#troy marshall x you

[yanderestarangel]

Howdy Lorenzo! I was wondering if you could do some headcanons about Felix, Troy and Adler, I just played the campaign and I'm just : 🥵🥵

HEADCANONS BO6 – FELIX NEUMANN, TROY MARSHALL, ADLER RUSSELL

♡⁠┊TW: face sitting, eat out, rough sex, penetration, blowjobs, afab reader, praise kink unstable relationship, degradation, fingering, 69, spoilers, porn plot, etc.

♡⁠ 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏 ♡⁠

This man really has two sides, firstly he will obviously try to be a gentleman and treat you like royalty or as if he is afraid to touch you and break you in some way. The first few times you two have sex are really focused on Felix making you cum first, often he'll just eat you out or make you sit on his face while he uses his fingers to play with your clit, showering you with compliments and often a few words coming out in German because he's too excited to formulate a sentence in English.

He'll make you cum so hard you won't even be able to stand up from all the shaking – Neumann is the kind of man who will go to great lengths to make you squirt and leave you relaxed enough to stop thinking about your problems, especially if the two of you are on a mission together.

He likes to tell you how beautiful and radiant you are with every move you make in bed, his hands will grip your waist while his blue eyes stare at your breasts that swing with every deep thrust of his cock into your cunt. "Fuck... Those are the most beautiful tits I've ever seen, schatz..." the older blond would praise you while making you tremble with his touch, the combination of his cock penetrating you with his fingers on your clit was enough to make you cum before him, and then he would be able to cum without the weight of the conscience of "using" you.

However, he has a very dominant side and when he is stressed and loses control, he cannot maintain his pacifist and oakish appearance, making you even surprised by the change of personality he can have.

The German will fuck you and maneuver you like a rag doll around the room, changing positions every time you are going to cum just to take his cock out and hold your face, staring into your eyes. "Haven't you heard yet, you little whore? You're only going to cum when I tell you to."

He will bite you, mark you, cum on your face and will act like everything but the gentleman he is when he is in his normal state. He would growl, his hips snapping forward, fucking you harder and harder. His cock would be throbbing inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each stroke. He then leaned forward, his teeth sinking into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

"Holy Fuck... I'm gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum... Gonna breed you like the little whore you are..." He then pulled out, his cock throbbing in his hand as he stroked, aiming for your pussy. He then came, his hot cum shooting out of his cock and landing on your pussy, coating your folds and clit with his thick seed.

"Mmm... That's it... Take my cum inside you... Let it fill you up..." He would purr, his fingers continuing to push his cum deeper into your pussy, making sure you were well filled with his seed.

However, after the moment of excitement and lust has passed, he will make sure you are okay and apologize if he was too rough, cleaning you up and kissing every mark he made – hugging you softly while wiping his cum off you with a wet tissue. "Rest, süsser... When you wake up I'll cook your favorite dish ok?"

♡⁠ 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

Troy is initially much more distant and casual, putting up a barrier between the two of you because of his trauma with Jane and the lack of trust he has begun to feel toward others. He may be less vocal and simply enjoy your moans; small compliments may come from him occasionally, but nothing too affectionate if the two of you are nothing more than casual partners.

One of the most frequent things he'd say at first, and the closest he’d come to real affection, would be, "Fuck, babe, you're squeezing my dick so hard..." Marshall will only start showing you extra affection once you prove yourself trustworthy and demonstrate that you care about his feelings.

He enjoys doing 69 with you, but you’ll only reach that level of intimacy after earning it; before, he’d insisted that oral sex was too intimate for just 'friends with benefits.'

Troy’s mustache tickles a little, creating a unique friction against you, but he’ll make sure you get used to it and not think about it too much – especially since the combination of his tongue on your clit and you choking on his dick is enough to make your mind go blank. He'll still be dominant, but not like before. He’ll make you take your time, not rushing you or forcing his cock down your throat, and he’ll start to open up more to compliments.

"You're doing great, baby... You're fucking beautiful. Just take your time, okay?" Marshall would say calmly as he slid two fingers inside you, his tongue working in tandem to bring you to orgasm. This marked an evolution from the first meaningless encounters you had; it was no longer just a transition but a real feeling of making each other feel good.

He'll make you ride his cock after the second time he sees you cum on his fingers. You'll be sensitive enough for him to feel your walls squeezing him tightly, as if milking him was the only thing you knew how to do.

The previously degrading nicknames are now replaced by a mix of soft compliments. "That's it, little whore... You look so beautiful with my cock in that gorgeous pussy of yours. Do you hear that sound?" the taller man groans, holding your neck gently while thrusting faster, making your legs tremble. His other hand grips your waist, keeping you from falling, even though you barely feel your toes touching the wooden floor anymore.

"Hear that? You're dripping—uh, fuck, hot as fuck." He growls softly, giving your ass a slap before pulling his cock out of your wet heat and giving gentle taps on the outside of your pussy, prolonging your orgasm even more. He kisses you softly on the cheek, smiling smugly into your neck, though there’s a hint of affection there. "So desperate to cum, sweetheart? Use your words, and maybe I'll let you."

After finishing inside you, he cleans you up and offers one of his shirts to cover yourself. It’s rare, but sometimes he likes to share his bed with you. "Lie here; don’t worry, I'll be here when you wake up."

♡⁠ 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

This old mf disappeared and came back into your arms as if nothing had happened, but he's so homesick and stressed that your reunion will be him burying himself as deep as he can inside you.

After some arguing and him trying to apologize, he decides the best way to make it up to you is by fucking the frustration out of both of you. He drags you to an empty spot in the tower, far enough that Woods won’t have his afternoon nap interrupted by your moans. You try to resist, still upset about his sudden disappearance, but honestly, he loves it when you get feisty, when you try to push him away. It only makes him want you more.

"Shut up and take it, angel face." Russell growls in your ear as he sits you on his lap, pulling down your pants and spreading your thighs wide. He slips two fingers into your mouth for you to suck, then pulls them out and slides them into your pussy without warning. You feel filled by his thick digits—a bold move that makes you whimper—but he finally manages to make you stay quiet. "Oh fuck... You want me to stay right here, between these pretty legs, fucking this sweet pussy until you're a sobbing, shaking mess... Don't you?"

He makes you stand up just to have the pleasure of pressing you roughly against the wall, forcing you to stick your ass up for him. He spanks your sensitive flesh, watching you tremble and wet his fingers even more, like a bitch in heat. He bites your neck, leaving hickeys on your skin. "You missed this as much as I did... I know you did. Fuck, you're such a whore, aren't you? I don’t know how I had the courage to let you loose without my eyes on you all this time."

"One more, baby. Give me one more orgasm before I fuck this tight little cunt with my cock." His fingers never stopping their relentless assault on your pussy. He could feel you getting close again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your juices dripping down his hand; When you finally came, he’d give you another slap, and before your knees could go weak, the older man quickly removed his pants, exposing his cock leaking pre-cum.

He easily lifts you, placing you in a full nelson position, with your back pressed against his chest and your legs wrapped around his waist. The head of his cock teases your entrance, and with one quick thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely. "I found my paradise in the infernal heat of your beautiful pussy..."

He wouldn't stop until he made you squirt and be soft from cumming so much, he knew he had messed up with you but he couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing you trembling and not even being able to formulate a complete sentence because his cock was kissing your cervix with each thrust.

Adler would groan hoarsely, kissing your face as his hips snapped forward, fucking you harder and harder. He could feel his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, increasing the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You don't look so tough now, huh? Are you sure you don't want to forgive me?" He fucked you even harder, making you feel that warm sensation in your stomach as he finally made you cum all over his cock—and cum inside your cunt, too. He kept his cock buried inside you until it softened and came out on its own, making you drip his cum onto the floor. The older man would sit you down on the couch and lower himself onto your thighs, looking at your spent pussy. "We're not done yet. I'll only stop fucking you when you forget how much I hurt you, no matter how long that takes."

And well... it would be long hours.

[animefreak1145]

Rest(Adler x Bell!Reader)

Summary: You’re here only because of what you heard about Russ. Out from the shadows of another life Adler carefully constructed for you(with a few edits with your own hand) back into the fold. You immediately tracking him down to Bulgaria in those months(because of course he doesn’t want you involved, that arrogant bastard of a man), doing your best to help him out this pit of a trap that he’s pinned in. That someone else pinned on him.

They’re dead once you figure it out.

(Or where you discover that you and Case don’t work well together. You despise mirrors being thrust onto you.)

| Only hints to imply how Bell is alive and being a secret throughout the story. Nothing clear cut. Fill the lines yourselves. |

Created with @makeyourpeacenow. Cross posted on AO3

Words: 24k

Tags/Warnings: Post-The Final Countdown Mission | Solovetsky Ending, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Angst, Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, Codependency, Bell and Adler are obsessed with each other, Everyone is concerned about the psychos, Mostly Marshall, Manipulation, Mind Games, Bell does it this time, Adler too of course, Reader-Insert, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mild Smut, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Older Man/Younger Woman, Character Study, Case Deserves Love, Bell too, Justice for Case and Bell, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault but not true, Mind Regression, Hallucinations, Cognitive Dissonance

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You tried to go solo at first, picking up the crumbs of the bread trail Russell had left you. 

Finding Rook was no easy feat, but it’s not a discovery you find worth celebrating, not as the circumstances stood. Commotion from down the cliff-hugging road had driven you into the bunker, derelict as the rest of the house. Unaware of who had arrived, friendly or otherwise, had left you with little choice but to corner yourself there. 

Your only reassurance was the old soviet-tech surveillance that you nearly managed to reconfigure, the familiarity of it nearly foreign as you worked to fix it, mentally cursing whatever idiot had wired the home in such a convoluted way. 

Audio… online. 

It was gritty, the audio cracking through the old speakers in a volume that nearly had you jump—of course the headphones you plugged in weren’t picked up by the system. 

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard it. Woods. 

Right. Friendly, then. Other voices, too, but you didn’t care much for that. It’s enough for you to holster your firearm and to work up the nerve to crawl out of the bunker you’d isolated yourself in.  

You didn’t cower at the gun that trained on you, opting for an unimpressed quirk of your eyebrow. The young man wasted no time in dragging you before Woods. Later, you’ll discover his name is Marshall, Troy Marshall. 

The shock on Woods’ face when he saw you was paralleled by your own. 

Your equal shock at seeing Woods, all movement and loud and free, being stuck in a chair and more reserved must’ve snapped him out of it.

“What the actual fuck?! Bell?! Is that you?!”

You winced, your hands that were raised moving slightly so you could put a finger to your ear. “You’re still loud. Knocking any extra mannequins on the floor with that tank of yours?” 

Woods stared before letting out a guffaw, hand slapping to his head.

“It is you, you little shit. What happened to not a word?”

Your lips quirked, teasing as Marshall and Case looked at each other in confusion.

“I feel I can get a break. The whole dead thing breaks off smalltime deals, I think.”

“But you’re not.” Woods straightened in his chair, and you spot just how quickly his mind was working while you assessed one another. “Adler has a shit ton of explaining to do.” Woods glanced towards Marshall and Case whose guns remained trained on you, quick to inject levity into the situation. “What are you doing? This isn’t a fuckin’ cowboy-duel. Put your guns away, trigger fingers!”

Marshall hesitated, allowing himself to tear his eyes from you, glancing at Woods while Case lowered his firearm, postponing holstering until he could properly grasp the situation.

“Are we supposed to know who this is, old man? This isn’t Sevati.” Marshall looked at you, brows pinching as he tried to figure you out. You could spot where his heart is without him even having to say his next words. “Did Adler send you here too? For Pantheon?”

Your brows relaxed at the verbal confirmation, friendly. Definitely friendly.

“You can say that,” you nodded, shrugging your shoulders casually.

Marshall’s brows only pinched more as Case merely tilted his head at you, quiet. “It either is or isn’t. Who are you?”

Oh no. You’re having fun.

You smiled sardonically, hands moving to your hips as Woods sighed.

“Depends who calls.” You could spot the young man’s growing irritation while the other only continued to assess you, not taking his eyes off of you. You met the quiet man’s eyes, something pulling you to. It felt familiar. “You can call me by my name.” You offered your name before looking to the side out the window, the Black Sea unusually quiet. “My friends call me Bell.”

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It pissed you off that you couldn’t be involved in grabbing team members. Woods had torn into you when you complained, accused you of not being companionable enough to those that had yet to earn your trust. You’d only huffed then, and muttered something about how Woods had really stepped into the mentor role. He used to hate rookies, called them fuckin’ idiots due to their inexperience. 

You’d been stuck with Woods who was trying, and struggling, to pick up the pieces of what happened in the last decade. You were good at skimping on the details, stubborn as always. 

Although, you also supposed you only had Woods to truly talk to about any of this, decade and now. You’d only given him tidbits. More than what you would say to the others, but less than what he wanted.

There was a look in Woods eyes that he’s not satisfied with your answers but it seems he’s still nosy for another useless question. You could feel his stare burning your head from the other side of the room from where you worked, computers open, routes mapped out for where they’ll go in to get Adler.

“Can you spit it out already, Woods?”

“Thanks,” Woods sarcastically spat before you heard him lower his beer bottle on the table by his cot. “How long you’ve been fucking the bastard?”

You startled, ears turning hot even as you turned your chair to look at him in a mix of askance and disgust. You hadn’t forgotten how coarse he could be, but it didn’t soften the blow each time he reminded you. 

“Woods!”

“What?! I’m just asking!” Woods raised his hands as if to surrender, but he clearly liked getting a rise out of you. Just like old times, always through Adler. “I thought the fucker would be icy for his whole life, but all he needed was someone like you to match his psycho.”

You turned your body back to the computer, throwing him the finger as you grumbled while he only laughed.

“You’re so nosy,” you remarked, your tone tainted with a sliver of disbelief. “You’ve turned into a gossip in your old age, old man.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

You went back to reviewing the map after a roll of your eyes. Near silence, save for the sound of glass against wood each time Woods took a drink and rested the bottle on the table. You were starting to feel your brow twitch in annoyance, you could hardly work when you knew he was there, undoubtedly staring at you for your attention. 

“I didn’t realize you were so prissy when it comes to Adler.”

“Oh my God,” you groaned under your hands, rubbing your temples. “Your ‘kids’ need to hurry up and bring these people in before they find your dead body on that chair.”

“You got something against disabled vets?” It was so sudden, so out of the blue, that you pulled a face at the absurdity of his words.

You turned, ever so slowly in your chair, gobsmacked. Eyes wide.

“What?”

“Prejudiced.”

Your exasperation was growing as you shook your head at him. Woods who had the special ability on how to pull your leg.

 “I’d be prejudiced if I—if I didn’t kill you for your constant poking and prodding like I would for anyone else… !”

Woods looked up in mock thought.

“I don’t know. Still sounds prejudiced to me.”

“I’m going to ignore you now,” you finally said, undignified, and turned back to your work.

“You can try,” he warned with jest. Maybe it was the alcohol, or that fact that was just you and him in the safehouse, but he seemed lighter than he had been before. Looser. “But you got a decade’s worth to catch up on me fucking with ya. It’s a lot to work with.”

You clicked a little louder on the keyboard, your fingers a little more forceful than necessary.

That Marshall and Case needed to hurry up. 

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Case found that the woman, ‘Bell,’ was… interesting. Mysterious.

Her answers were short each time he asked a question, tight-lipped in an annoying yet smooth way. Her eyes were either cooly assessing or seeming to have found him funny somehow, while other times she appeared bewildered by him. He wasn’t sure why.

He first noticed her analysis of him immediately when they met her. He dismissed it at first; he was used to people trying to figure him out, being scrutinized under a microscope. Yet somehow… it was disconcerting—messing with his head. From how she’d tilted her head at him when he denied treatment for the blow to his head—courtesy of Sevati’s part of the deal—to now when he’d asked what she thought of Adler.

“...you’re odd,” Bell stated by the computers to the wall near Felix’s own desk. The remark had been rather abrupt, Case could only blink.

“That’s rude,” Felix said, typing away behind his green shades. “At least that’s what others say when I also point out the obvious.”

“You think I’m odd?” He didn’t know why; he thought he was fairly normal. (Better.) “What makes you say that?”

Bell only pressed her lips together, frowning at him.

“I hear from Woods you’re pretty calm,” she started tamely, and Case agreed with the sentiment. He was calm. “Quiet. A good shot. Nearly invincible at times. Although, I don’t call your head being cracked by a butt of the pistol, invincible. You’ve been with Marshall for years.”

“Yes, and?” Case poked. He didn’t see the point in her statements, if there was any.

“And nothing. That’s it. You don’t talk about much else, even to your longtime friend.” Bell pointed at him, motioning all around his body from down to up. “Odd.”

Case decided to leave her and move on to talk to Felix. Her eyes never seeming to leave him even after he left the room to find Marshall and talk. Marshall never looked at him like there was something to be seen, something hidden to be unearthed. Just there.

Just Case.

It was only later on in the day, that Case found himself with the same observation Bell had of him, towards her. “What are you doing?”

Bell was crouching near Woods’ chest, seeming to stare intently at a certain item Case couldn’t see from the angle he’d stood at—just at the entrance of the room with the evidence board. He was torn between averting his gaze to avoid staring at her behind untowardly and scrutinizing her snooping.

Bell turned around and gave Case a dry look. “Well aren’t you nosy,” she remarked, supplying another one of those non-answers that she’d perfected.

Case’s brows pinched, incredulous of the hypocritical nature of it. “Are you self-aware?”

“I don’t know. Are you? You trail back to every conversation there is in this house.” 

“… not every one.” That wasn’t the point. “You shouldn’t look through people’s stuff.”

“Uh huh. I’m just… making sure of something.” Case noted the slight upturn of Bell’s lip, an imperceptible smile at the little picture with Woods and the recently deceased operative, Alex Mason. The moment was over before Case could properly comprehend it, and Bell stood, crossing her arms at Case. “You look through people’s stuff too.”

“Your accusations are baseless.”

“Uh huh...” If possible, the woman even looked more unimpressed with him than before. Something in him bristled. He held it back. Like always. “You normally look through Marshall’s drawings and people’s files in their own rooms or do they happen to just fall in front of you?”

Case eyes slightly narrowed, tilting his head. 

“Are you watching me?”

Bell shrugged.

“Someone has to. Especially somebody who claims he isn’t nosy. And odd. I’ll give you this, you don’t have good tracking skills like I do when it comes to information.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” He kept the air nonchalant, blasé with his raised eyebrows and dubious look. 

“That’s what I’m calling it. I’ll let you get back to your little chase, Case.” Bell snickered before leaving the room.

Case remained standing, looking down at himself in quiet thought.

Am I really that nosy?

It happened again, right after they arrived and achieved in getting Adler back to the Rook.

Case was in the room where he was certain Adler had been residing, whilst the man was downstairs with Bell, organizing for Iraq—if their mild arguing could be called that. (Case lost interest when it seemed they were going in circles over Bell’s role in all this. Rare for him, losing interest. But something in Case… pricked at how Bell watched him. Like he was ready to turn, and she was prepared to pounce and bite his neck once he does). Bell not touching the room since they’ve been here, it made Case wonder once more at their relationship; Woods had painted it like they were Bonnie and Clyde. He already fiddled with the voice recording earlier, now he was trying to see what kind of medicine a man like the infamous Russell Adler took and what exactly he was hiding to need to cover the label. And to take it with whiskey as a shot.

“Good luck finding anything here.”

Case jumped, his eyes darting from the medicine on the bedside table to Bell leaning at a doorway.

She looked around as if she hadn’t said anything, eyes trailing over the room in mild concentration.

“He keeps his room clean. Any possible information you can gather from what you can see is because he’s letting you look, everything else is hidden; I haven’t had time to check the boards or the walls.”

“...I’m not trying to get information about Adler.”

Bell finally faced Case, eyes cool as she tilted her head, a nonplussed “Oh?” being released from her lips, carefully expressionless. 

Dangerous, Case supplied in his mind. He could see the threat of teeth, a bite worse than her bark.

“I was just taking a look,” he admitted, unashamed. His curiosity was only surface level, anyway. Bored. If they told him to stop, he would. “I wasn’t planning to dig around more than what’s already out to be seen.”

Bell raised a brow.

“You’re�� polite. Still nosy. Though, not as nosy as me; I dig until I’m satisfied.”

Case didn’t quite understand Bell’s play, he only knew there was one. “You know everything about Adler, then? Is he trustworthy?” Maybe she’d answer now.

“You tell me. And not what Marshall repeats to you. You’ve seen him in action now. What do you actually think of America’s Monster, Russell Adler? Not Woods. Not Marshall. Not Sev. Not even Felix. You, Case.”

“Is this… a test of some sort?”

“Yes. You’re failing so far,” Bell said simply.

Case tried to think of what he gathered since he first saw the man to what he’d observed around the safehouse.

“… he’s capable. Knowledgeable. Seems to have good camaraderie with Woods, so he cares for those he knows. Appreciates loyalty. Secretive as you’ve said. I… have so far not seen what others say about him. For that moniker.”

“It’s gonna scare you off if you see it?”

Case’s brows furrowed.

“Why would it? He does everything for a reason surely. Not baseless.”

Bell blinked and the cool look in her eyes disappeared before she seemed to look at him in a new light. He couldn’t tell whether or not he’d displeased her yet.

“Careful, Case. You shouldn’t follow him baselessly.” 

“Don’t you?” Case quipped.

Bell smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. Displeasure, then.

“I know what goes on in his head, you don’t. You have no reason to blindly follow someone like him. You need to be careful who you take orders from, or you’ll find your own moniker slapped on your face.”

“What would that be?”

“Case the Doormat, that’s what.” Bell snapped. Case wasn’t sure where this was coming from. He was having a hard time reading her; was she upset at him for willingly following her lover? Frustrated? Jealous? Something else? “You need to stick with your own morals and ways and not whoever you’re around. Pick someone to shadow and at least commit to it.”

“I follow whoever gives the order at the time.”

Bell’s brows furrowed, and Case could see she was analyzing him again. Turning over what whatever information she saw with each word he intoned. Every twitch of muscles and shuffle of his feet.

Dangerous, a voice said in his head.

“The Perfect Soldier type. Not used to someone like you. Follow all and loyal to none. What would Marshall say?”

“Marshall is my friend, I’ll do what he wants.”

“Right. But say you’re not near Marshall. He’s not in the team. You’re his friend so you know how Marshall sees things. How he works. Friends usually have the same moral code or views. So,” Bell finally stepped away from the doorway and took a step towards Case. “If you were ordered to do something the exact opposite of what Marshall would do, would you do it?”

She was trying hard to make sense of him, to find a loophole in how he functioned. He wasn’t intimidated by it, it was clear to him, after all. “I thought you appreciated me having my own opinion. Why should I copy Marshall’s? Which is it?”

Bell huffed out her nose, stepping back with a shake of her head.

“You’re fucking frustrating for a pawn,” she said bluntly, and somehow it felt incomplete—like she was vying with more to say but somehow thought better of it. “I don’t know whether it’s pathetic or pitiful.” Then, softer, quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch it: “You remind me of myself somehow.”

Case blinked. That was new. He thought she didn’t like him.

“Really?”

Bell gave him a look, meeting his eyes.

“Somehow,” she repeated and she left the room again in deep thought.

Case later on, slumbered on the couch with the TV—and wondered if he passed the test. He wondered why he felt as if she was right about them being similar.

He wondered if she hated being someone’s shadow and what she saw when she stared at him, able to so formlessly follow anybody.

He wondered why it bothered her so much—it didn’t bother him.

But… was that also the problem?

Case wondered if, inversely, the other problem was how easy it was to see her as nothing but Adler’s shadow, it was certainly a sentiment Marshall held—not that Case strictly had or agreed with all of Marshall’s sentiments—and Case felt it were apt enough, for a surface level descriptor. 

She’d called him a doormat, and he ought to have been offended—but he wasn’t. It just was. Then she’d claimed he reminded her of herself—and Case found himself considering that. 

If she was Adler’s shadow, who was he? Everyone’s shadow? Shadow for all. He wonders if that would be his moniker.

Case—Shadow for All, maybe. 

… America’s Shadow? He snorted at the imagery it inspired. Maybe not.

Everything reached a head when they found the facility on American soil in search of information on the Cradle. (The Cradle.) 

Bell was already irritated—miffed at how she felt she was slowing Adler down from tracking Gusev, with him back in the safehouse going over his resources, making phone calls and exhausting his connections in the area, working to track the Russian there as he waited for her with a sort of patience only reserved for her. (Their relationship was more, Case observed. Where Bell goes, goes Adler nearby—always in the corner or the next room, never further. Orbiting. Where Adler goes, Bell did her best to stay put, but like a magnet she gets pulled into the man’s space. Not lovebirds. Just… planets circling one another. Constants. Case couldn’t imagine what it is like—to be seen like those two see each other. They saved the world together before, Adler said. “Adler saved me,” Bell said at another time when the shaded man was nearby. Case spotted how interesting the man’s smile looked. Secretive. Yet filled with weight. There was something more. Case has yet to figure it out. Marshall couldn’t figure it out either. He found it odd. Marshall thought Bell was more dangerous than Adler. Dangerous, Case repeated. Co-dependant psychos, Marshall might have muttered after a few beers). 

Case never pictured the man being able to sit and wait.

The ladder broke, the rusted metal crumbling under his weight, and Case was stuck with Bell just as Bell was stuck with Case. Masks broken. Something in Case panicked. He reined it in just to answer Marshall’s concerned call.

“Masks are broken,” he informed dutifully, forcefully calm—blasé. Bell looked incredulous at his tone, and the lack of urgency therein. “We’re compromised.”

“Well, you’re still alive, that’s something.”

Case spotted Bell still before her eyes narrowed into something fierce at Marshall’s words. Case didn’t like it, it reminded him too much of (his brother) something better left forgotten. When Marshall’s orders continued, Bell looked as if she were seconds from snapping Case’s neck for Marshall’s gall, merely because his neck was the closest thing she could wring with her hands.

Gall? Gall at what?

What was wrong with following orders?

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“But we’re fine,” Case unhelpfully supplied. Again.

“What the shit?” You hissed, the abrasive gas started to make your throat itch uncomfortably. “You just admitted to Marshall that we’re compromised. We can’t go further. Throw a rope, Marshall!”

“Hey! You guys are alive down there! I don’t have rope right now. Sev and I will meet with you later! Just stay there if you’re so concerned, Bell,” Marshall stated over comms, his voice grating in your ear.

You saw red, you couldn’t accept this—not from him. 

“What the… what the fuck?! Marshall! Sev! No fuckin’ rope? What kind of amateurs…” You broke out into Russian, cursing, and dug through your pack to find a rope with a hook. You had your doubts about it, but it was all you had to work with. “Come on, Case. We’ll find our way up to them like this.”

“I don’t think that’ll work.” He stared at it dubiously and you huffed. You knew that. “You heard Marshall—we’ll meet up with them.”

Your jaw tightened as you eyed Case, who seemed perfectly okay with following Marshall’s easy going tune, when you knew the gas was burning his throat just like yours, your vision already getting somewhat hazy like you knows his was.

“We’re going up to them like this. End of discussion. You didn’t seriously think we’ll both waddle around here with gas in the air until we meet up with them. Are you a fool?”

“What does it matter? Marshall said we’re alive. We would be able to do it.”

You couldn’t tell if it was the gas that made you feel violent towards Case, or if you truly wanted to strangle him.

At your continued silent fuming of what you want to do, the both of you with no weapons, Case decided to speak. Again. 

Unhelpfully.

"Marshall said—" 

"I don't care.” You knew what Marshall said, and any reminder of his dismissal was enough to send you nearly over the edge.

Case narrowed his eyes as you tried to throw the rope with the hook above, only to curse and miss as it splashed down to the water.

“Suddenly acting better than thou towards me when I know you would listen to Adler.”

You darted your head toward him so fast that you think your vision might have blurred even more. His eyes were looking really punchable right now.

“Adler—“ You tapped Case’s chest with the hook twice, dampening his chest with each jab. “Isn’t here. And even he’s not this much of a rushing fool when biological weapons are involved! Your ‘friend’ should be tested! Is he even your friend?!”

Comms squeaked in both of their ears.

“Guys! Shut the fuck up and stop wasting time. Don’t drag Case down with you, Bell. You’re either in this mission or you aren’t.”

A bit late to back out now, you thought bitterly.

“Dragging...?! You little—“

“It’s my call, Bell. Do I really have to call Adler to have you listen to me?”

You felt the rage in you burn at that threat. It rose in your chest to your throat at the knowledge you wouldn’t want him to do that, to bother Adler over something so trivial. The knowledge that such a juvenile threat works. The knowledge just how easily they’re using you just like they’re using Case.

You discovered you don’t care much for Marshall.

You remained silent in your resentful concession, so Case answered for the both of you.

“We’ll find our way.”

“Good. See if you guys can find the power down where you are. It’s hard to see up here.”

You and Case didn’t answer, but you did curse again when you saw a screen flicker on the further you stumbled into the room, your head starting to spin—rice paddies in your periphery and you weren’t sure if the bell you heard was more than the memory you hope it was.

Case flinched at a mannequin, a suppressed yet audible gasp left his lips.

“We’re going to kill each other,” you deadpanned, your voice absent of the dread you felt. A familiar numbness came upon you, to protect your mind just like a decade ago. “это пиздец. у меня все было хорошо...”

“Did… you see that...?” Great. Case, Case actually sounded scared.

You laughed bitterly. Seeing a shadow of someone wearing a woven bamboo farmer’s hat run across the room, the silhouette of an Ak-47 in their arms and the phantom weight of an M16 in yours. 

“God. We’re so fucked.”

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The halls were quiet in the lab, Marshall used his flashlight to glance in every possible direction as Sev moved behind him. His uneasiness at how quiet the comms have been the last few minutes reaching a head.

“We haven't heard from Case in a while.” Marshall knew his friend was quiet, but Case knew when to give updates—when to fill in on new information. Case was a professional like that, and Marshall admired him for it. 

The lack of updates made him feel as if he might’ve made the wrong call, somehow. 

Sev’s next words, mildly concerned, only confirmed it.

"Bell hasn't insulted you in two minutes, Marshall.” Marshall bit his lip, careful where he stepped as he breathed deep through the gas mask.

It was no secret the two of them didn’t get along. She found Marshall trying to establish authority over Adler amusing—or that’s how Marshall saw it. It didn’t help that she added in a quip of her own, that she’d only follow one man unconditionally to the depths of hell, and it isn’t him.

Marshall didn’t think Adler was going to deny Bell’s clear loyalty, but he also didn’t expect just how easily the man accepted it. As if she just stated the sky was blue. The grass is green. The sun is yellow.

Bell will follow Adler to hell.

Marshall’s understanding of relationships was that you make sure your girl is protected, even from her own words. A little shush and a shake of the head, maybe an endeared smile or taking it as a joke.

Adler hadn’t reacted at all.

Just took another drag of his cigarette, staring Marshall down blankly, as if he thought that every word from Marshall’s mouth was just simply, and entirely, wasted breath. And it may as well have been, considering how little change Marshall’s assertion had brought about. A tilt of Adler’s head in Bell’s direction—acknowledgment to what she said—kept up that sharp smile on her face, softening at the edges at his motion. She beamed at the man. 

Marshall’s heard the stories of Adler. All the man’s monikers. There isn’t much anybody at the CIA who hasn’t. 

Someone as cocky and arrogant as Bell following anybody anywhere, let alone Adler? A linguistic and decoder genius that made someone like Felix impressed? Willingly following a wildfire? Marshall wasn’t used to someone like that.

Loyal yes. To Jane. To Old Man Woods. He thought he was loyal to the CIA but it’s just a lie. Blindly loyal?

Marshall liked having his eyes wide fucking open, thank you.

And Bell has made it clear just what cliff she’s willing to fall off of, back first.

Still, he could begrudgingly admit that the woman has her moments where even he thinks she’s funny. In an irritating kind of way.

Marshall cleared his throat as he checked the hall to their left, flashing at decorative chairs and an elevator that didn’t work. For now. They needed that power on.

“You don’t think she’s upset I used Adler right?” He knew well enough that they didn’t have to get along, exactly, to still be able to function well in a team, but it certainly didn’t hurt if they weren’t at each other’s throats. 

He didn’t have to see Sev to know she just rolled her eyes at him. “Using the ‘daddy card’ on a woman never goes well.”

“Uh,” he didn’t stumble, but it was a near thing. “What kind of father-daughter relationship are you seeing?”

Sev whipped her own flashlight at him, almost blinding his eyes—but he could see her deadpan.

“Haven’t had much bed experience in that, have you?”

“What...?!” 

Sev laughed and Marshall was thankful no one could tell he was blushing. “Get off my back, Sev!”

“Troy Marshall, the good ol’ Christian boy. Scared of a little salacious conversation.” 

“Oh, fuck off, Sev!”

Sev laughed again. The moment made Marshall’s shoulders loosen a little in tension. Still, he feels the weight of leadership.

Had he made the right call?

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“What the fuck, what the fuck— whattheFUCK!” You were running, M16 in hand blood rushing and your eyes(Needles, needles, needles, the red room, the red light, there’s a bell ringing—“We’ve got a a job to do”) as VC were chasing you. No end to them. They keep popping up. You’re sweating. The air is humid and hot but all you see are computers and desks and the lab. The lab, the lab, the lab. Tears were going down your cheeks as you ran and shot. Run and shoot. Jump the pits, drag your leadened feet through shallow streams, dodge the snipers in the trees.  “Russ…!” You yell brokenly, to nothing to no one. There’s no one here to hear. “Help…!” Your voice cracks, dehydrated and exhausted

Your vision is swimming. It’s being blocked. (Didn’t someone tell you to wait by the lobby?) Lobby? No. Trees? Leaves? Foliage. 

“You hid in the shadows and took out the VC one by one.”

Right. Yes. Stealth. 

You picked up a bow. Where did the M16 go? You dropped it. By the other key card.

Key card? Right. Key card. You need the key card. You need the key card to go up.

Up?

No…isn’t it through?

“Go through the door, Bell.”

You fall back to the floor as the Red Door lands a foot away from you, almost crushing you. The Red Door kills. The Red Door has secrets. 

Secrets. A weapon. What weapon? It’s new. It’ll kill millions.

“Where is Perseus planning to activate the codes, Bell?”

Perseus. The nukes. Yes. You must stop the nukes.

You get up and go to open the door but it’s locked. You let out a cracked laugh, hand to your face. Only for something cold and hard to smack you. You blink.

You’re in front of a computer dashboard for keycards. There’s the red one in your hand. The second one. You picked it up.

Picked it up? No. You killed VC for them. No. Perseus soldiers. No…Adler?

You killed Adler?

No, no, no, no, no.

“We gotta job to do, Bell.”

Yes.

You put the keycard in. You see one is still missing of the four. Where’s your partner?

(Who?)

You…don’t know. Actually, your team died. You were the only survivor. The only survivor of the crash.

It’s so bright. You can’t see. You stumble.

You land on the grass, you’re searching blindly for a weapon. VC are rushing at you! Shooting at you! You use the logs as cover, wood splintering off as bullets narrowly miss you.

You shoot but you keep hearing a ring.

(A bell?)

Why is it ringing?! The gun is broken. Throw it.

A VC throws a dart at you, but it’s not a dart. It’s a needle. You try to move but you’re stock still,  on the ground, you can’t move—you’re being held down.

You both feel and hear as the needles squelches into your eye.

You scream.

You scream yourself hoarse. Your throat is breaking. Someone is dragging you.

No. Choking. You’re being choked. 

You can’t breathe! Russ, please! You can’t breathe! Please stop! You don’t know where Perseus is! Stop!

“Bell?! Bell calm down! Sev—shit! Case, Bell?! Stop! It’s us! It’s us!”

There’s no us. Where’s Russ?! Where’s Adler?! You need Adler! You feel something coming out your mouth, it tastes like bile.

“She’s aspirating! Sev! Hold Case down for a sec.” You feel yourself get rolled over and you’re breathing, no. Choking. Is Russ your friend? If so, where is he? Where’s Russ? “Bell. I’ll call Adler after this. Just stay with me! How did you two even make it up here?” 

“Marshall, we have to knock her out.” Someone says, a woman. Park? But she’s British. You spit at the leftover vomit, adrenaline rush coming back full force. Park or Lazar? Lazar or Park? Who? Who? Who? Save who? “We can’t carry them both like this.”

“Shit…sorry, hold on Bell.” 

Hold? The grapple. Grapple who? You have to choose! There’s RPG’s! You struggled, trying to find the rope. Where is it? Where is it? 

“Marshall, you’re too soft!” 

A soldier got you in the head because all you see is black.

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A phone rings.

“Yeah?” a voice throaty from smoke use rasped out, smoke exhaled out in that very moment. Casual.

“Adler,” Marshall greeted grimly. The pause the older man made on the other line caused Marshall to bow his head and squeeze the phone, tense. 

Sev glanced over her shoulder, pausing from her checking on Bell and Case as she drove. 

“Yeah,” Adler said, tone shifting in a word. Something simmered under the surface. Bubbled.

Rip the bandaid, Marshall. Just like mom used to do. Just like what you do for Terry.

Marshall let out a resigned sigh, he knew it wouldn’t go over well. 

“It’s about your girl.” 

“... ETA?”

“It’ll be another few hours before we arrive. Seven.”

“Have Sev make it five.” Marshall glances at Sev, her acknowledging that she heard with a dip of her head. “And Marshall?”

Marshall lined his shoulders up, prepared for whatever the man was about to say. “The explanation better be good.”

And just like that, the man hung up.

Could someone make such a casual sentence sound like a threat?

Marshall discovered Adler could. On a more light hearted day, he needed to figure out how to do that.

Right now, he had to help his team.

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“What the fuck, Adler…?! I was just asking! She’s a part of my team whether she or you like it or not! Why Vietnam?! Case snapped, but not like this!”

Adler saw Troy Marshall had heart, he knew it would be the kid’s demise one day if he didn't change. The weight of it dragging him down. Too much compassion didn’t get you far in their world, and he respected those who knew their limits, those who knew they couldn’t go any further, the path they’d begun too treacherous.

But the kid had an uncomfortable amount of balls holding him back, too.

Adler smoked outside the front of the house, despite the rest of Marshall’s ‘team’ being an hour out. He wasn’t the kind of person to get restless, but he knew he couldn’t wait inside the safehouse, Woods’ heavy glances on him.

He walked up when they put the car in park, his mind going over every scenario again (Sims, this is scenario 17–), wondering exactly how shit hit the fan, what could have possibly happened. 

She was unconscious in the passenger seat, and Adler listened carefully to Sev’s explanation; she’d been like this for hours—subdued and knocked due to how uncooperative she had been. The few times they noticed Bell was awake, she hadn’t reacted to what was going on, or their voices, silent with her head bowed deeply to hide her face.

Adler only pressed his lips in answer to her words, gently taking a hold of Bell. Laid her down on the nearest suitable surface—a couch between the weapons bench and main entrance. He leaned on the armrest near her head after grabbing the nearest ashtray and placing it on the side table so he won’t leave her side, his hand combing through her hair as she rested. The contact seemed to soothe, somewhat. The only reaction were her brows forming lines between them, a weak noise escaping her lips.

Adler’s eyes narrowed beneath his shades before glancing at the others, and he feigned preparing a smoke as he put one between his lips.

Woods wheeled down by the other end of the couch, an obvious frown at the sight of Bell. Her skin was clammy, hair sticking to her forehead, her form boneless—unrelaxed yet pliant.

Felix came from the side hall of the basement and small bathroom, a hot towel held in a gloved hand, and cautiously maintained distance as he handed it off to Adler. He’d immediately understood that Bell had been impacted in an unforeseen way. It was apparent the moment Adler had helped her from the car, carrying her into the safehouse. 

(Look at that, he’d mused. Bell had made a friend of the germaphobe.) 

Adler nodded in thanks, pressing it to her head as Felix shifted over by the weapons bench, fiddling with the computer there, feigning work but facing the others, silently concerned. Sev leant atop the weapons bench too, lingering after she helped Marshall haul a worse-for-wear Case in the chair near the fireplace; the warmth would do him good.

Adler’s eyes finally faced Marshall, whose form was stood directly across from Bell, Woods and himself. It felt judicial, in a way—plaintiff, defendant and witness. Marshall, with a guilty air about himself, stood with a tense look on his face, staring down at Bell before the young man cleared his expression to face Adler. 

Marshall took one look at Adler and knew he was on borrowed time; he noted that it wouldn’t be wise to delay this any further and begun firing off what had happened. Their successful lab entry, followed closely by the mishap with the broken ladder for Case and Bell—their gas masks broken, exposing them to the compound-leak in the air.

“They were contaminated?” Felix asked in alarm, Adler was positive that the had German squeaked from how high his pitch rose. Felix’s eyes moved to and fro, darting from Bell to Case who was leaning his elbows on his knees, hunched over. “You brought them here?”

“And then?” Adler cut off the German’s building hysteria as he started muttering in dialect, something of the sächsisch variety, quickly going over the chemistry of most biological agents —especially those related to the Cradle as defined in the document from Hussein’s palace. He no longer idled at the workbench, clicking away. He needed more details. 

“And then…nothing,” Marshall supplied before straightening his shoulders, and despite it all, Adler was having a tough time seeing the man—it was just a kid hiding in a soldier’s skin. “The gas released in the lab didn’t display any nasty or violent side effects on them. Not like how we inferred back in Hussein’s sick playhouse with the lab tank he had in his basement. So I called it—for them to continue the mission.”

Woods expression broke a little, leaking disappointment mixed with shock.

“Kid…” Woods shook his head. 

Adler’s eyes went to Bell, his hand holding the towel to her head before moving it to wipe her cheeks. Similar to a decade ago, a half wit plan based on a whim atop the cliffs, arctic air cutting his cheeks similar to hers.

“What do you need me to do, Russ?”

Marshall took his silence for him to continue. Well, for Case to attempt to pick up the rest of the report, given that he was with Bell. Adler faced and assessed Case, who was heavy laden and despite his exhaustion—sequenced the events to the best of his abilities. How Bell immediately seemed to react to the gas, spotting things that weren’t there, and while Case had his own issues — he was sparse on providing details, he kept it hidden and focused on Bell, relegating his own reaction as insignificant. Adler picked up that Case was unnerved—only due to how Case’s boot was tapping every so often, a muted pattering against the hardwood flooring. The dismissal of his own wellbeing—his health—reminded Adler of Bell somehow, before Cuba. How she’d worked tirelessly in pursuit of her own people. 

And then Case mentioned it. Vietnam. 

Damn it all, Adler fumed, throwing away the used cigarette in the ashtray on the floor, lighting another with a flick of his lighter. 

Bell kept muttering about Vietnam, and an alarmed Case told her to stay by the lobby—just until he could retrieve the needed keycards for elevator access, where they’d meet Marshall and Sev on an upper floor. But he didn’t see her when he got them. Only knowing she also went to get keycards when he arrived with the last one from the right side of the lobby.

“Vietnam…” Marshall uttered, nodding at Case in thanks as he took over. “When me and Sev found Case and Bell seeming—seizing—over Case’s yelling, Bell kept screaming. But it was just…” Marshall paused, brows furrowing deeply, mind deep in thought as he started to pace with a hand to his head.

“Just what?” Adler asked, impatient. Calming when he felt Bell’s hand try to reach in his periphery. Adler let her take his hand and bring it closer to her face, and shifted slightly against the armrest of the couch to accommodate the movement.

Marshall stopped, turning towards him.

“She was… it sounded like she was calling for you, Adler. And—and not to you, but for you— pleading for you to stop…” he paused momentarily. “To stop whatever you were doing. And Perseus.” Adler felt her hand tense around his, her nails pressing crescent indents into the back of his palm in stress. “Why would she mention Perseus? I thought that guy was handled back in ‘84.”

Adler felt Woods glance. 

Adler took a long drag, embers lightning his face before he exhaled.

“Didn’t Bell explain anything to you guys on her background?”

Marshall scoffed, incredulity breaking through concerned perplexity. 

“Tch, no. She’s been tightlipped since we caught her slither out that bunker she cracked opened. Most she ever talked is how she got more involved in the field after ‘84. She didn’t specify what part of the underground exactly, just that she did.”

He could work with this.

And Woods would cover, too.

Adler glanced at Woods, a small frown around his cigarette.

“Didn’t tell them how you knew Bell, Woods? Despite how she helped save the free world with us? Thought you liked her.”

Woods shrugged, a sarcastic quirk of his lips.

“What can I say, I like to take all the glory.” 

Adler managed a quick smirk, seeing how Woods will play along, before shifting and taking another drag. All eyes on him as he gathered his thoughts, the timeline, fact and fiction.

Time for a story. 

“A story? I don’t know…Will this really work, Adler?”

He made it work for a decade. He just needs…some extra exposition for new audience members. He’ll make it work.

He thumbed the back of Bell’s hand before beginning.

“Bell extended her services to us a decade ago. Information came out that the man we all thought was Perseus had nuke codes that will kill millions. Bell was an ex-KGB operative that heard about it through mutual friends.”

Woods nodded. It was easy to build off of truth, not hers, but rather the countless other soviet defectors they’d recruited throughout the Cold War. “Just like another KGB operative that was sick of the Soviet’s shit. Belikov helped us out there too.”

Adler took an another drag, exhaling as he made a small glance towards Case under his side shades. This was where he had to be careful. He wasn’t sure what exactly Case remembered or how much he withheld.

“She helped with that fiasco. During that time, I took her under my wing you can say. After that, she went to semi retirement. She just wanted to help us with Perseus. We let her go on her way. She accomplished what she was meant to.” Adler could feel the pistol in his gloved hands, speech over and done with. Before he paused. A camera. Thoughts of books. Of a story. He remembered how he cursed in his head before he rationalized the opportunity. For an ear on the other side. “It didn’t stay that way. After the debacle of sleeper agents in ‘84, she took a more active role again instead of working on decryptions and linguistics. She reached out to me. After that, it’s history.”

Marshall turned over the information in his head while Sev quietly mused to Felix that no wonder he got along with Bell; they were both homebodies with the their tech at one point. Felix rolled his eyes before he tore his gaze from the computer to look at Adler.

“Curious, though. Case mentioned that Bell kept going on about Vietnam.” Felix quickly glanced over at Bell. “Impossible it was for that war. Too young.”

“Ehhhh,” Sev interrupted, hand to her cheek. “Might be. Never doubt a woman’s skincare routine. She was ex-KGB wasn’t she? Perhaps they sent her there when they already took over in Vietnam for a mission before she defected.”

“No,” Marshall said, raising a hand with pointer finger up, shaking his head slowly before gaining speed just as his hand moved up and down. “No, Case made it seem way more serious than a backwards one time mission in Vietnam. Something about your explanation is fishy.”

Adler rose a brow, free hand grabbing his cigarette.

“Fishy, huh? What’s fishy is how you’re leading this team to the ground, kiddo. You’re not exactly impressing me with your false macho bullshit.”

Marshall stilled. Everyone’s eyes now on the two of them—Adler’s inscrutable expression and Marshall appearing as if he were seconds away from snapping.

“What the fuck, Adler…?! I was just asking! She’s a part of my team whether she or you like it or not! Why Vietnam?! Case snapped, but not like this!”

To his knowledge, Adler thought. Case was more secretive than he let on.

“Just asking. Right. And your team?” Adler didn’t spit the word out, buts it’s a near thing with how icy he says it. Adler scoffed. “You’re lucky the world is facing a threat because I would take Bell and myself away from this. Or start calling the shots myself.”

Marshall’s eyes flashed, taking a step forward. Adler’s eyes narrowed at the kid getting near Bell’s body on the couch with so much emotion. This was already a fucking mess and the last thing he needed was for it to turn violent. 

“What—“

“Marshall!” Woods snapped. Marshall tried to take a deep breath before turning towards Woods—who only shook his head. “Lay off of him, would ya? Bell’s his protege and you fucked up. Bell will tell the rest of her story if she wants to tell you.”

Marshall’s hands clenched at his sides, while everyone else watched. Sev and Case looked in a more subdued fashion, whereas Felix made no attempt to hide his wide stare. 

“You won’t get answers to anything with the way you’re acting. You earn answers. And with the stunt you pulled?” Adler added, taking a major inhale, his third cigarette throughout this ordeal. Hold gentle around Bell’s hand despite the tension. “Consider yourself on the blacklist of needing to know.” 

Marshall opened his mouth before glancing at Bell. He relaxed, clicking his mouth shut. 

“Fine. But just…you can help her right? Your girl?”

“Of course. Now go, Marshall.” Adler moved and scooped her up, bridal style as she turned her face into his chest, blinking languidly as he made for the stairs. She might’ve mumbled something against him, despondent. He paused on a step, aware of their audience that had yet to disperse. “Don’t come in my room unless you want a bullet lodged in your head. Woods?”

“Ay, ay. You heard the chain smoker, everyone. Now stop hanging around like it’s a play and get to work!”

Adler entered his room and laid Bell atop his bed. He brushed her hair slightly with his thumb off of her face. 

He sighed.

“This is a shit show. But I got you, Bell. I got you.”

“…R…uss…?”

Adler’s hand dipped to your parted mouth, you tried hard to open your eyes.

“Easy.” Adler shushed, a light kiss to her forehead. “It’s me. I have you.”

“…’Na…m” Adler watches your lip trembling, a tear going down your cheek. “VC…Hue City…”

“That’s a long time ago. We’re not there anymore. That war is over.”

Bell let out a choked sound. Adler couldn’t tell if it were a sob of despair or relief. Perhaps both. 

“So…real…” 

“Yeah?” Adler grabbed her hand, placing it over his scarred cheek while he hung his shades from his collar. “As real as this feels?”

Bells eyes fluttered open and Adler finally took a look at them. Blown wide yet hazy. Not here. Adler did his best to not get affected by it. She didn’t need that.

Bell thumbed the scar on his chin. 

“Per…seus. He’s real.”

“He’s dead. He can’t get us,” Adler intoned, a quick kiss to her palm. “Nothing can get us. I’m here.”

This time, Bell did let out a cry. Pulling her hand away so she could hide her eyes and turn her back to him.

“You. You can get me. Needles. It…hurt.”

Adler pressed his lips together, aborted further attempts to grab Bell again but remained seated on the bed. She seemed to seek his presence before, on the couch. 

“Do you want me to leave?”

Bell shot up, much faster than Adler would have been comfortable with, but before he could nag her she yelled a loud, “no!”

Bell blinked out her fear, instead looking down and not meeting his eyes, clenching her hands around the sheets.

“No… stay… please?”

Adler didn’t need much convincing. He hasn’t seen you like this in a long time. 

“Scoot over a bit. And lay back down for me. You need to rest.” Bell did so, almost falling over with how much room you’re willing to give him. Sacrificing your comfort for his. Adler sighs at it. Back to square one again with their relationship. So hard to make it seem even between them and she’s back to this. Adler laid down but motioned his hand at her to come closer. “Come closer. You’ll fall.”

Bell looked hesitant. Eyes going back and forth from his hands to his jacket pockets to his shades. As if searching for something.

He sighed again before slowly sitting up, taking his jacket off and emptying out the pockets she kept glancing at; he threw everything useless onto the floor.

“I don’t have anything. Come, Bell. I won’t hurt you.”

Bell bit her lip, jittery eyes meeting his even ones.

“Needles?”

“No.”

“MK-Ultra.”

“No,” he repeated evenly again. He didn’t need it for her. He wasn’t lying. 

Bell placed a hand to her left shoulder, hesitating.

“Bullet?”

“…okay. Only for you, Adler. Just don’t miss the shot.”

Adler’s eyes tightened, closing before opening them again to meet hers.

“No. Never again. I need you to rest, Bell.”

“…okay. Whatever you say, Adler.”

Something twists in his stomach but she clambered closer to him, much closer than he thought she would. Head tucked into his neck and arm thrown over him, he could feel your tears on his skin. Adler can only slowly and gently lay a hand on your waist to not scare you off. 

He’ll let you rest. But later, he needs to know what happened.

For now though, Adler felt Bell’s deep inhale—as if wishing to memorize his scent and felt her breath on his neck. For now. 

“Sleep for me, Bell.” 

He felt her eyelashes flutter against his skin, eyes closing in answer.

For now, his girl needed rest.

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You’re off-kilter. 

Not only because you can’t go down to the bunker anymore(red room, red room, Red Door—“Normal forms of interrogation weren’t working.”), or be anywhere near all the televisions—from the living room to the security feed (you flinch as napalm struck, a near deafening roar in your ears, diving for cover from the flames—only for Woods to coax you out from under his cot, your limbs trembling as you realized it was just the thunder that struck outside, before distracting you with a story with him and Mason and Mason’s son—David. Your fear and blood pumping slowing at the look Woods has in his eyes. Sad yet proud at a boy who’ll soon be a man. Your dignity was saved that the others were in the training grounds or the kitchen.), but because you can’t even go on the mission with Russell (Adler? Your old friend. Not old friend. Liar. Adler always lies. “You have to stay, Bell. I’ll handle Gusev. Trust me.” Adler always lies. You were pathetic how you wished for you to go, or him to stay, weak for even asking just once. Back to severe co-dependency. As if Adler’s plan of forcing you to be independent and make your own plans never happened. Back to not only wanting to be near him but needing him near you. Needy for praise. Adler finally having you to let go of the lapels of his jacket with his breath to your ear, “You can do anything, Bell. You can handle this for me, красивая. Stay and help me watch the kids from killing each other while I’m gone. You will, won’t you?” Of course. You can do that for Adler. ▚ Anything for Adler. ▟ You’re living for him alone. ▚) and at least help the others in the casino with the heist live on the ground. 

You feel useless. 

You can still help in the technology side of things, but what good is that when half of the tech in the safehouse is underground? Underground where your dread compounds, heart racing to the point it hurts. Ears ringing, your shallowed breathing doing nothing to help your panic.

Each time you blink, something skitters on the screen, reminders of a war you shouldn’t remember—of imposed pain that was never yours.

So yes. You may be moping. 

It doesn’t help you are still upset at Marshall for Case’s treatment back in the mission. But it does help to distract you from your miserable trauma you’re trying to shake away, because the man upsets you again about Case’s role in this mission.

You heard the plan from your spot near Woods cot, the both of you going over necessary supplies and exfil. Your head whipped back at them as Case just stood(Always just standing there. Willingly being led like a lamb to slaughter. You would do anything for, Adler. You did. You killed a man because you knew Adler would prefer his death over capture.) and seemed satisfied at the plan in place. Perfectly willing to be a tool.

“Wait—Case is going to be part of the bait of this mission?” You ask incredulous, hands tight around the binder Woods gave you to look over. The older man was staring at the side of your head, but you ignored it as you stood. “Even after what happened? It wasn’t just me that went through that gas.”

They all turned their heads from the evidence board towards you, Sev shifting on the desk she was sitting on. 

“True. But Case’s bender that accompanied your horrible acid trip has calmed.”

Marshall nodded at Sev’s words, putting the folder in his hands to his side for a moment as he slightly shook Case’s shoulder with a smile, his touch light—companionable. It nearly made you frown.

“Case would’ve told us if we couldn’t depend on him, anyways. I’ve known Case for years and he’s one strong motherfucker. Ain’t that right, Case?”

Case chose silence as his answer. You noticed he hadn’t stopped looking at you with a slight frown since you spoke up, a subtle downturn of his lips.

(Why were you defending him? He didn’t care. You wanted to punch him for it.)

He was scared. He’s a person. 

“Now all the subject needs is a name.”

He’s a person . 

Felix cleared his throat to gather attention, leaning on the desk behind his favorite computer screen, looking as apprehensive as you felt towards all of this. 

“I do share your concerns, Bell. Made it apparent to Marshall here.” Felix tipped his head towards the man for show; Marshall looked away in turn, letting go of Case’s shoulder at Felix’s stare before the German turned towards you, a bleak turn of the lips. “But, I digress. The short half-life of the gas indicates it’s in neither of your system’s anymore, although I am having trouble sleeping at night despite that—“ Felix couldn’t help but add.

“Get to the point, Felix,” Sev cut off, exasperated. 

“Right.” Felix looked miffed at the interruption before he gave you an understanding expression. “Case has demonstrated he is capable for a mission such as this, and has insisted on it the moment Marshall mentioned it. There are no obvious side effects displayed—unlike what we have observed in you, Bell.”

“Thanks,” you cracked sarcastically, too tired and self-deprecating to snap that you weren’t useless. But for the life of you, you couldn’t help but meet Case’s eyes with your searching ones. “That true, Case? Able to take a few punches for the team? I see that Marshall isn’t volunteering for that—willing to play some cards instead.”

“You know the kid isn’t like that, Bell,” Woods defended, because of course he did. You saw what Woods saw—a mirror of the veteran’s younger days. But it was different;  Woods wouldn’t treat Mason like how Marshall treated Case. How everyone treated Case. How Case treated Case. “Case has insisted that what happened was no big deal. Hell, the guy’s invincible like that. Almost like me.” Woods tried to joke, to make you crack a smile. You didn’t.

Only stared at Case.

How long would he be quiet?

(You were quiet about seeing Vietnam on screens a decade ago. A secret. You didn’t want to disappoint Adler. Seen as soft. Something to throw away.)

What are you trying to do, Case? You wonder, spotting how Case’s jaw twitched in discomfort at your assessing gaze. What are you trying to prove? To who?

Marshall took a step towards you, hand to his chest in defense and obviously on the defensive.

“What makes you think I’m just throwing Case to the wolves, Bell? Just cause at what happened in that last mission doesn’t mean I don’t care about my team mates.” Your hand twitched at your side. You could picture it. Socking the young man in the jaw. Maybe that would spur Case out of this pitiful pit he’s put himself. Marshall took a breath, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before facing you, eyes open and full of regret. You couldn’t help but glance at it. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about what happened down there, Bell. That was the wrong call. But this—this plan is the right call. We need to help Adler find Gusev and the casino is the key, whatever is in B24 is the key.”

Your lips thinned before scoffing and looking away, waving a hand at him in dismissal. Despite the obvious manipulation once more—you’ll give him some leeway due to his own obvious betrayal of one he saw as a friend.(See how it feels? A part of you thought with petty yet cruel satisfaction.)

“Yeah, yeah fine. Do what you guys want.”

You turned back to work with Woods, trying not to silently stew and focus on what Woods was saying and ignoring his stares. When the others moved to leave the room, you did stop Case from moving by the evidence board; grabbing his wrist firmly, opening your mouth to speak quietly.

“Case, what are you—“

But he beat you to the punch as he connected your gazes, causing you to falter at Case’s incredulous irritation.

“Why do you keep fighting?”  

“I—“ you blinked rapidly. “What?”

“Why do you keep fighting?” Case repeated, his tone growing more bewildered each time he spoke. You wondered for a second if he thought you were purposely trying to challenge Marshall’s authority—as if you you found amusement in destabilizing the dynamic of the team. “What’s the point in what you’re doing? It’s easier to just accept it.”

“Breaking a subjects will and erasing their mind is a difficult and painful process.”

Your eyes slit, tightening the hold around Case’s wrist.

“What?”

Case shook his head, he almost looked like he was pleading with you.

“Just stop. Just accept. Is that so hard?”

You bit the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t reach for his throat to tear it out—it’d be much more merciful than this pitiful display.

(It’s been so long since you wondered—your fate if you just talked. Confessed. Where did loyalty get you? To Adler, you answer, sure. But where did that leave you? To Adler, you answer, pathetically, longingly.)

It slapped you in the face, what pissed you off so much about Case. It disarmed you, making your hold loosen around his wrist and letting him escape with a final yet tense incredulous look towards you over his shoulder.

The way you easily fold for Adler, despite your natural loyalty and cognitive dissonance acting up on how exactly he got that loyalty from what occurred a decade ago—compared to Case who folded for all, found it easier to just accept than fight, unlike you.

Your loyalty was fictitious, then earned through years—falsehoods and reality mixing. You followed only the one, whether it was pre MK-Ultra or after—you would do everything and anything for the one you call yours.

Case—just took the easiest route in life and followed whomever. He couldn’t see himself fighting for one side—even if that side was himself. He did whatever was asked of him, no matter the consequence. The willing doormat welcoming all types of scrapes and scuffs off of shoes.

Dangerous, you thought. It made you sick. 

Your stomach only turned further at the thought of how long, or rather how quickly, it would take Adler to realize the same thing about Case.

You didn’t know from what.

You needed a distraction before your mind connected to what exactly Adler would do with a perfect soldier like Case—wandering after you finished with Woods for something to do. Only to find Felix in his customary spot, his favorite computer set up. You moved to join him, your presence usually welcome behind the computers, like always before the man raised a gloved hand at you, so sudden it nearly startled you. 

You wondered if he had a job for you, if you were needed elsewhere. 

“Please keep your distance,” the German said tersely. Blunt. “I rather like dreaming of unicorns and rainbows and not general horrors of my life.”

Ouch. You raised your hands in mock surrender, lips twisted up.

“I get it. Sorry.”

“…oh. Here.” He picked up a floppy disk and threw it in your general direction, you managed to catch it haphazardly. “Take a look at that please. It’s the encryption system the casino uses for their facility and I have exhausted enough time on that with no improvement.” Felix took a breath and he actually looked pained as he met your stare. “I’m stuck. I, Felix Neumann, finally admit I am stuck and need your help. Don’t rub it in my face.”

Your mouth parted at him, throwing his pride away so easily when they were in a childish and ego inducing competition before.

“…you want me to?”

“That gas really did a number on you.” Felix said in answer before giving you a shooing motion towards the computer by Sev. “Go. And don’t come near me till you finish that.”

You decided to take a quick look at Sev’s computer, raising your brow dubiously and throwing him a rising smirk.

“Easy as pie. Didn’t the Stasi train you for—“

“Oh. Good. You’re alive and back. Please leave before finishing that sentence and I decide to not be courteous to you.”

You crack a small smile, just an iota.

“…thanks.”

Felix made a noise, but outside of it—nothing. You decided to put your big boots on and help. 

Enough with the moping and Case; time to actually help.

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Case really wanted a towel.

Blood stuck on his face and neck, firm and baked on by the sweltering heat of Iraq. It stuck no matter how much he tried to wipe it with gloved hands—the gloves weren’t much better off. He paused from trying to wipe, eyes observing the way the copper stained deep in his gloves. How it wanted to get deeper. Past the cloth. Past his skin—entering the flesh and in turn the muscles and making him squeeze. His fingers furled unconsciously. 

“You can dispose of him now.”

(“…̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷ ̷d̷̷o̷̷c̷̷t̷̷o̷̷r̷, ̷g̷̷e̷̷t̷ ̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷ ̷d̷̷o̷̷c̷̷t̷̷o̷̷r̷!” Very good, Case, the voice in his head—female—said. But it wasn’t in his head. Not then. She was right there—she said to kill him—his—his—)

His vision turned, pain shooting through his temples, quick and short. Not enough for an obvious wince, but for him to squeeze the hand in front of him into a tight fist.

“How we doing, Case?” He turned to face Adler who was sitting in front of him on the back of the army supply truck they were in. Rolling along back to the outskirts of the camp that Captain Sims was in(“Both of you can get out of my sight! We’re done, Adler! I don’t want you to set one motherfuckin’ toe on my grounds after that stunt!”) but separate from the commander. Case didn’t think they might be friends anymore; he didn’t understand why. Gusev needed to be disposed(̷D̷̷i̷̷d̷ ̷h̷̷i̷̷s̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷o̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷̷r̷?). Adler, as always, seemed unaffected at what transpired—a smoke around his mouth with blood visibly on the base of neck, stains all over the front of his uniform. His shades half-heartedly cleaned from stubborn wiping, accompanied by Adler’s mild muttering annoyance, the most emotion Case has heard, save for the older man’s disappointed tone toward his old friend, hearing him mutter about needing cleaning wipes. “Hold on. Here,” Adler reached into the back pocket of his pants, a hand towel already soiled(that’s how his face was mostly clean, must’ve been when Case was still staring at the dismembered lower half of Gusev’s body, whereas Sims was focused more on the man.) and tossed it at him. 

Case caught it, giving him a quiet thanks and nod of appreciation—despite the towel already being used. He’s thankful he just has it. It’s the same man’s blood they’re wiping off, after all. No need to turn his nose up at that.

Adler took a deep inhale, embers quickly eating up the cigarette before he tapped off the edge to the side.

“Thanks for that back there.” Case glanced at the man, Adler’s tone still light but appreciative. Holding weight. “I know it caused a mess on ya. Tried to take the brunt of Gusev’s guts before Sims attempted something else.” Adler cracked a light smirk. “Didn’t want him to have something else to complain about. Having a man’s blood literally on his hands, whether true or not, would’ve pushed Sims over the edge.”

Case believed it would. 

When Adler gave the order to kill(̷D̷̷i̷̷s̷̷p̷̷o̷̷s̷̷e̷) Gusev, Case wasn’t watching anyone else. His vision blurring, his ears seeming to deafen his surroundings and only focus on Gusev’s erratic breathing and final plea—only for Sims to grab Case back. Unluckily for the man that reminded Case of Marshall, the momentum of grabbing Case’s shoulder instead of Gusev and his inattention to Adler’s subtle movement of destabilizing Gusev’s feet—it caused a short, curdling yell within the propeller. The metal squeaking in protest much worse than when Adler threw a rock in it—blood spraying upon Case’s front. Adler managed to shield Sims and Case from the majority of it, the sound of the skull thumping around and metal cutting through bones and flesh echoing in Case’e ears. Case watching as the man’s top half was gone, only everything from the waist down was untouched—outside the guts and skin trying to stay attached to said dead scientists waist. All while Sims went off on Adler. 

The man’s only defense is that he—Gusev, that is—slipped.

Sims used Case as his witness, pointing at him as Sims was in Adler’s face about to wallop his old friend. The only indication the man gave at his friend’s anger was the mild frown on his lips.

Except, Case didn’t do what Sims wanted. Agreeing that Gusev slipped. Sims snapped his head from Adler to him faster than blade cutting through bone(Not funny. ̷J̷̷u̷̷s̷̷t̷ a̷  ̷l̷̷i̷̷t̷̷t̷̷l̷̷e̷.), face practically all snarl. Adler raising a brow in reaction behind the man’s back at Case’s defense.

Sims cursed at him almost nearly as much as he did Adler once he let a few seething breaths in(“Another copy of you, Adler. Fantastic. Both of you trying to bullshit me…?!”) before he couldn’t stand the sight of them—or the body—anymore. Despite Adler’s weighted words towards Sims it became personal, it actually making the Captain pause before he walked away, a shake of his head and a disbelieving huff through his nose. (“Everything and everyone is personal to you with how much you’ve done the same dance. Well. I’m not willing to do the shitty Macarena with you anymore!”) 

Case looked out from the open back of the truck, watching the scenery of fire and tanks in the distance—explosions and gunshots and stealth bombers dull in his ears. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” Case dismissed as he wiped his face particularly roughly. Without a mirror, he wasn’t sure how much blood was still caked on—but he could feel it. “Gusev was a danger to millions. I understand.” Adler hummed, Case glancing at the man to see a brow quirked above his shades at the words. Surprised? Why? “…have you done gruesome kills before? Or was this a special case for Bell?”

Adler’s cigarette was in his lips for a quick puff as he answered, the smoke being breathed out with every word.

“Vietnam had no shortage of those. And it was easier to just throw him in there since we kept waving the threat in his face,” Adler did a half shrug, as if it was normal to throw people into propellers out of convenience. A walk in the park for a man like him. America’s Monster. (“It’s gonna scare you off if you see it?” No. He isn’t scared. He’s sure now where a man like Russell Adler lies. ““̷S̷̷e̷̷e̷? ̷H̷̷e̷’̷s̷ ̷a̷ ̷m̷̷o̷̷n̷̷s̷̷t̷̷e̷̷r̷, ̷l̷̷i̷̷k̷̷e̷ ̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷ ̷r̷̷e̷̷s̷̷t̷ ̷o̷̷f̷ ̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷̷m̷.”)”Bell had a part to play in that, true. But I would’ve wanted the man dead anyways. He made a deadly weapon that will kill millions. What happened to Bell in that mission however, sealed his fate—Sims or no Sims. Bell would’ve done the same for me. Maybe worse.”

Case frowned in thought, looking down. He knew Bell was loyal to Adler—greatly. He didn’t doubt Adler’s words; her loyalty was sound, based on what he’d overheard when Sev asked her, after the casino mission, prodding for more details. Felix in the living room, as well, while he and Marshall were in next room over. (“Nosy,” he heard her mutter as she passed by him, knowing innately how much he strained his ears, getting as close as he could without appearing obvious. Marshall trying to make light of her word and tone, said animatedly “What? I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Bell wasn’t amused, her brow rising at Marshall before moving on. At least the cold shoulder was mutual between them both; Case didn’t like her eyes on him anymore.) How she expounded that Adler saved her from the CIA, not wishing for someone like her to work with them despite other KGB operatives under their paycheck. Might’ve had to do with her connections to Perseus—and how she’d discovered those plans, Case guessed. That the man was the only reason she was alive, and why she’ll reciprocate everyday for him for that. 

“She doesn’t like me much,” Case confessed before he could rein in the words. Before he could get bewildered at the action and stop, he kept going with far much more emotion than he planned. His verbal deconstruction of her behavior spilling from his lips, now that there was somebody to tell—Marshall was his friend, sure, but Case always was the listener between the two of them. He didn’t mind. “She finds me odd, despite also saying we are similar somehow.”

Adler’s brow quirked, a smirk pulling his lips.

“Oh? That’s strange. After the stunt you pulled in getting me out the black site, you would’ve earned her respect there; Bell can be hard to please until you prove herself. Although,” Adler nodded his head absently while taking a drag, “she doesn’t like Marshall at all. Can’t say I blame her; she holds on to grudges tighter than a knuckle duster in a bar fight. Spiteful woman,” Adler chuckled softly to himself as he exhaled the smoke. He shifted on the seat of the wooden bench, the truck driving over bumps and sand hills that could be felt between them both before Adler faced Case again, shades hiding his eyes—yet Case couldn’t help but feel as if their gazes were meeting. “Never thanked you for watching out for her down there. Or trying to with the circumstances. Pretty calm despite having to inhale gas as part of a mission.”

Case’s skin pricked. 

“It was a necessary mission. Marshall needed us,” Case evenly answered, acutely aware of the subterfuge that accompanied Adler’s reputation, Marshall had fumed about it—made a show of establishing authority over it. “And I did my best with Bell but… the circumstances of her disappearing when I came back were unforeseen. I am sorry for not doing better.”

“…mm hmm.” At the absent hum, Case felt a spark of offense. “Speaking of Marshall, how’re you going to break it to him about Gusev? You’ve been friends with him for years, right? Based on what I’ve seen, his stomach might turn at that.”

This felt familiar.

“If it was ordered to do something the exact opposite of what Marshall would do, would you do it?”

Ah. That was why.

Adler was doing what Bell had. But unlike him feeling seen by Bell, with Adler it was different. It was as if… it’s an unmasking.

“I don’t see why Marshall would be involved at all in changing the events that happened.”

“And what event is that?” Adler asked, leaning slightly forward to tap away the ash of his cigarette.

“Gusev slipped.”

It was silent as Adler searched his gaze, for what, Case couldn’t say. When Adler appeared to have found what he was looking for, both his brows rose up—the most surprised he’s seen on the stoic man. 

“That he did, Case. That he did.” His brows settled, a victorious ghost of a smile around his cigarette as he leaned back in his seat. “You’re one hell of an interesting soldier.”

(“I think you’re going to make one hell of an operative, Case One.” At whose dispense? After whose sacrifice? ̷H̷̷i̷̷s̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷o̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷̷r̷ ̷w̷̷a̷̷s̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷s̷̷u̷̷p̷̷p̷̷o̷̷s̷̷e̷̷d̷ ̷t̷̷o̷ ̷d̷̷i̷̷e̷. “We were the first and last trial volunteer.” No he  ̷wa̷̷s̷̷n̷’̷t̷!)

He had to say it. He had to.

He couldn’t hide this anymore!

Case opened his mouth like he did with Woods, about to spill everything—just as how Gusev’s guts were actively being spilled on the runway—to confess. Bell had already seen him and Adler is looking through, he has to say it!

What happened a decade ago—

We can’t talk about it, the female voice in his head interrupted harshly, his vision turning orange and yellow at the edges and another sharp pang shooting through his temples in warning. Remember? 

(“Remember your training, Case One. You can never speak of the Cradle program. Or the Pantheon division. Never. Doing so could have unpredictable consequences.”)

“Here. Have a smoke, Case.” Case blinked away his blurry vision to find Adler offering a cigarette from his expensive brand, he either hadn’t noticed Case’s mental struggle or made a point in not mentioning it. 

Case took it and put it in his mouth dutifully, not bothering to say he didn’t smoke to Adler who was already lighting it for him. Taking an inhale through a cough. Not the worst substance his lungs have been subjected to, still unpleasant. 

“The expensive brands are stronger.” Adler said in answer to Case’s difficulty, but his tone suggested that he wasn’t ignorant to Case’s inexperience. More… knowing. “Enjoy it, Case. We have quite a ways to go.”

Case frowned at the cigarette in his hand, eyes narrowed at the ashes already gathering at the end. 

This was one of the strangest orders he’s ever received.

Because Adler didn’t offer it, did he? 

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“You’re quite adept at this. Using a virus and handing the floppy disk carrying it to Sevati, not only to take out their radar but for their computer and security system to do what we please. Leaving no stone unturned, as they say.”

“I do love it when you give me random compliments, Felix,” you responded with a smirk, typing away on the laptop and maintaining your balance on the moving helicopter as they flew over the Vorkuta camp, awaiting on the others as they facilitated the ground assault. “Although I can do without the surprise in your tone. Lessens the impact of your words. You should work on that.”

You could barely hear Felix’s mutter through the comms as he manoeuvred the helicopter around in the cockpit, but you were able to catch “Arroganz ist die Schwester der Einsamkeit.”

Perhaps too soon with an inner wince, still in mental recovery due to the gas (not so much hallucinations outside of the auditory ones your mind foolishly created when in the safehouse, or when using the training course. Still, no T.V. The nightmares haven’t stopped.) but Felix meant no harm, innocently blunt, and you can roll with the punches easily enough with humor as your defense. 

“Awwww, what happened to you saying us traitors of socialist regimes should stick together?” you replied back in German. “Here I thought we had a connection, Товарищ.”

“Putting words in my mouth and twisting it, I see,” Felix replied with distaste as he circled back around towards Vorkuta, spotting that they were still in the clear from any more possible reinforcements. “Fabrication, typische KGB.”

You snickered as you typed and watched the security footage, monitoring closely that Adler and the team below were on the right track. Clearly hearing the man was just putting up a front to keep up their false rivalry, the back and forth of using words such as ‘adept,’ ‘acceptable,’ ‘adequate’ or ‘satisfactory’ when it comes to judging the others’ more than mediocre skills. God forbid you actually tell the man you’re impressed at his abilities without even having to go out in the field; It’d ruin this whole dynamic you’re going for!

…perhaps you were a little shit, like Woods always says. 

Adler only implies “bratty” to you. (Don’t focus on what happened the night prior after Russ told you the news of Gusev’s death. Your cheeks pricked anyways. Adler doesn’t always  lie. Not much anymore.) 

You couldn’t help it with Felix however. You liked the man. Didn’t mean you trusted, too soon for that (you only trust one man implicitly and wholly, always. Ironic due to the circumstances around it, you realize, but you’ve had a decade to accept it. You’d give Woods second on your very small list, however.) but you genuinely enjoyed the man’s presence.

And a fellow intellectual! Those were becoming rarer and rarer nowadays. 

You couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between him and Sev the other night after the casino mission(Case did as well but he just stood there saying nothing and not adding onto the conversation, soon leaving after Felix told him “Not now, Case.”) as you were entering back into the house, only to pause. Passing by a self-righteous Sev and the bowed head of Case(Look at him, a mere shadow on the wall—wishing to not be seen by me. Too fucking bad. ▛ Ï̵̙͖̓ ̸̝̬̏š̷̠̭è̷̞̖̔e̵̢͝ ̷͔̈́y̸̱̰̿̅õ̵̟̕u̵͙͎̅̈́.▞), you grabbing a book you left on the table near the bay windows. You got near Felix, who was still warming himself by the barrel fire, and leaned your back against the banister. 

Once he protested about your presence and not wishing to “puff our peacock feathers” right now, only for you to say that you weren’t as you turned a page—he calmed, brows relaxing as he turned back to looking at the fire in thought. The only sounds between you two being of the crack of the fire or a turning of your page. It didn’t take long before Felix decided to speak first about your choice of reading. Making a snide comment about Nietzsche with you replying with a brow raised if he had something against the Ubermensche philosophy, before you winced. The meaning of what it was meant for, and Felix’s concerns about himself, not connecting until you said the sentence. Too soon; you opened your mouth for an apology—only for him to snort at you. Yes. Snort. Felix. Instead bringing it back to you if you disagreed being called Sharikov from Bulgakov’s Heart of a Dog. It made you smile. 

It didn’t take long for the both of you to go back and forth, all the authors that had commentary about their home country’s view of communist and socialist ideals. The conversation shifting somehow to Adler and his plan of contacting someone from CENTCOM.

“How likely do you think that this contact will assist?”

At this point, you joined Felix already closer to the fire with your book in the waistband of your pants, the lighting too poor to continue on reading, anyway. Staring at how the flames moved with a pensive yet confident expression.

“Adler is always two steps ahead. Despite his…well, what others call recklessness—he plans very well.” 

“You respect that about him,” Felix pointed out, making you hum distractedly, your smile turning a little softer (“Are you enjoying this? You’re risking the entire operation unnecessarily.” “It’s not unnecessary, it’s calculated.”). “…very intriguing. A love story between a CIA agent and ex-KGB. Was that possibly another reason the CIA wanted you dead and for Adler to do it?”

You snorted, hands rubbing to get more heat. 

“We’re not like Sev you know. Shame about what happened with her though...” You frowned, momentarily thinking of what you would do if Adler died. You moved on quickly to not dwell on it. It’s a thought you’ve had often, you already knew how you would react. “And if you’re hinting if I was trying to seduce him… no. I wasn’t. I just felt that him and I… we clicked. It’s odd. Not many can feel a connection like this—knowing the other innately and how they think. It’s like…we knew each other for years.” You’re getting too close. You had to be careful. Your lips formed a sharp smirk as you met Felix’s eyes over the fire. “Too bad for the CIA however; Adler didn’t want to play their game.”

“Two steps ahead,” Felix reiterated. 

You nodded. “Two steps ahead. I aim for the same. Maybe even three.” You couldn’t help but add, cocky, “that may be my Soviet side trying to prove my superiority, however.”

The man didn’t roll his eyes but it was a near thing.

“Arroganz.”

Your grin sharpened.

“Спасибо.”

When the two of you went in, Felix added a quiet yet heavy “thank you.” You threw him a mischievous look over your shoulder, brow raised. “Whatever for? Us traitors need to stick together.”

Your eyes carefully watched the security footage, the ground team now having infiltrated the sub-levels of the former gulag. Until they split. Case—by himself; your eyes narrowed before removing a transmitter, disguised as a landline phone, from your jacket to listen in.

You weren’t joking with Felix. You liked maintaining a three-step lead.

And after what you saw when Marshall, Adler, and Case came back from Kuwait—straight after the plan being made for Vorkuta (Case stopped you after you… “spoke” with Adler by the cliffs, catching you when Adler has already gone up to their room. Looking desperate, which made you pause from your disgusted sneer on your face. Except, he didn’t say anything. Opening his lips as if he would talk, but nothing coming out. Only stating with a pained voice, “There’s a reason I’m like this. I can’t say but…you…” his hand was trembling around your bicep as you watched the man, your pity only growing. Along with suspicion. You watched his fingers furl, before unfurling again. Shaking. Your gaze trailed up his arm to study his expression, lingering at the slight crook of his nose, half healed cuts and light bruising from Kuwait. He was either struggling to find the correct words, or struggling to talk entirely—it was hard to tell. “You…you see, don’t you?” he managed to get out before his eyes shuttered and he stepped back with a quick shake of his head, apologizing before quickly leaving. Something happened in Kuwait. You could tell when Adler made his report and talked to you on the cliff. You saw Case the other day. You thought you did. You’ll make sure you do.) you swallowed your fear and went down to the bunker. (Don’t go in the red room. A b̷̜̏e̵͙̙͋ḻ̶̨̎͠l̸̼̒echoes in your head.) Tinkering with the technology down there along with stealing from Felix’s stash. Perhaps it was an invasion of privacy (It didn’t matter a decade ago. It doesn’t matter now.) but you’ll do everything and anything to keep Russell safe.

Even if it means bugging comms and the whole house.

You activated the transmitter, although knowing you already couldn’t hear them due to being underground—layers of dirt and concrete tended to be effective in blocking transmissions—this would ensure that you could check the audio later on. 

You don’t trust Case on his own.

It didn’t take long; they soon collected Harrow, hauled her back onto the chopper and spoke over her head—talking around her about making her talk. 

Adler took the seat next to you, shoulder to shoulder as you kept working on your laptop. His warmth and presence grounding you despite your mind running through every possible scenario(“Let’s run through scenario 1A.” “Christ, what’s happening with her?” “Bell, we’ve got a job to do.” Your new job is to live.). Including as to why Harrow had a smug smirk on her face looking at Case, who had her next to him on the chopper, keeping her in place closer to the cockpit with Marshall on her other side.

Only for her eyes to wander towards you, brows furrowing deeply. The stare wasn’t bothering you, but it seemed it was bothering Adler; he leaned forward on his knees and moved closer to you, taking up your space—as if to shield you. You didn’t mind, her stare beginning to discomfit you yourself.

“What’s got you staring at her so hard, Jane? Why don’t you instead focus on the information you can tell us on the way to our hideout? Make this easier for us. Mostly for you.”

Harrow’s eyes flickered towards the man, you recognizing the hate in her gaze that rose before it quickly subdued. Her focus flickered back onto you, turning something over in her head before there it was. A flicker of recognition.

Great, you thought sarcastically.

Harrow’s smile was like a knife, cutting.

“I never thought I would see the day of a corpse walking around. Aren’t you supposed to be rotting in the ocean somewhere?”

“Too bad for you lot,” Sev cut in, standing and holding onto a bar to leverage her balance against the moving helicopter, eyes grimly satisfied on behalf of you(you did like the woman. Friendly. Cunning. Focused on vengeance. Although hasty. A danger.), but the subject matter made an awful feeling churn within the recesses of your stomach, the heavy laptop on your lap grounding you as your mind raced. “Adler here decided to say ‘fuck you’ to your ridiculous orders of killing someone who helped you.”

“A lot of those nowadays,” Marshall added, side eying Harrow with that angry yet betrayed look in his face. Still hurt. Still sees his friend when it’s just an enemy(A lot like you. Is that what you looked like? Solovetsky —you said Solovetsky—). You turned your eyes back to your laptop, biting your inner lip—pausing when you felt Adler’s hand over your knee, a comforting squeeze before standing up and joining Sev on the bar. The touch not lost on Harrow whose intense stare seemed to burn towards your knee, her brows pinching deeply with a frown to match. “The CIA seems to like throwing and using people away. I won’t be surprised if it was Pantheon’s influence too.”

Harrow released a disbelieving chuckle that you couldn’t hear over the whip of the rotor cutting through wind; you could only tell by the shake of her shoulders—the odd smirk pulling the corners of her lips, shaking her head.

“So naive, Troy. You can’t blame the Pantheon for everything. Always having to believe the best in everything, even in the previous CIA. But you,” she faced back towards you, pivoting as much as she could, and despite you trying to ignore the manic woman, you lifted up your eyes over your laptop to meet hers. Her smirk was lopsided as she stated your name—yours, not whatever the CIA had made up for you, not Bell. A sour taste in your mouth. “Or… as we liked to call you—Bell. What an interesting name. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

R̵̨̠̣̣̥̍̉į̷̳͖̰̀͆̿̽ṇ̴̻̦̏̄̔g̵̯̑̈͗̅̕

                                                R̷̪͒̅i̶̮̲̎͗ņ̶̼͝g̸̱͍͆

                      R̴͎̳̽̌͂̕͠͝ḯ̵̢̱̖̹̮̱̩̑͂̀͑͘͝n̵͉̗̈́̔g̵̣̣̊

                                                           R̸̢̢̛̪͕̦̜̥̝̯̘̙̗̖̣͔̝̞̘̬̍́̂̀͋̅̚͘͝í̷̧̡͔̮͓͎̲̪̖̤͙̥̘͙͇̣̯͙̣̮͎̥̏̊̓̊̽̂̆͑͜ņ̷̛̭̗̱̠̖͖̝̼͓̣̲̲͕͓̠̤͖̣̱̘̯͔̈́͗̏̀̓̑̒͆̄̄̈́̋̀̋̈́̓͂͗̚̕͝ͅğ̴̨̧̧̛̙͉͓͈̬̦̩̯̯̪̦̰̥̻͓̹͍̥̳̫̤̿͌̑̉͆͂̎̂ͅͅ

“Enough,” Adler commanded, taut and appeared as if he would knock Harrow out any moment now with the stock of his assault rifle. You focused on that picture instead of the sounds in your head, your fingers trembling over the keyboard. He stood over Harrow, brows deeply pinched—the only indication of his cool anger. “Stop with the games, Jane. Talk. Or even Marshall won’t stop me from getting what we need from you.”

Marshall gave Adler a look before facing Harrow grimly. The woman, instead, was staring up at Adler, with her brows up at his threat. Her eyes shifted back towards your knee, and her disbelieving expression turned into a curl of the lips—another connection made with her eyes turning viciously amused yet disgusted.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Jane. Why don’t you start explaining—“

Harrow started laughing, throwing her head back. It was so sudden it made Marshall jump, the others staring at her in confusion but it only made you tighten your hand to a fist—slowly closing your laptop and stowing it away, cautious as you watched the woman snicker.

“Oh—this is—“ Harrow inhaled a breath, trying to calm herself down but failing as she released another short yet harsh laugh. “I can’t believe—This is a day of firsts. Really, Adler?” She asked, brow raised in cruel mischief. “You and her…? What an actual fucking shitshow because of course a man like you would,” she spat, all rage and bite in that one word before facing back towards you with a gaze filled with sadistic spite. “But of course, you always had a jó̵̦̰̤̈̑͑́̍̍̔̌̒́̀͘͜͝b̸̞̹̼̟͔̰̠͖̫̥̼̓̇̈́̋̀̀̑̎ͅ—“

A metal thwack met a skull, Harrow’s head falling towards her chest, her body held upright in her seat by the seatbelt alone.

“Woah, man! What was that for?!”

“Jane has a mouth on her,” Adler answered easily, fixing his gun and moving back to sit by you. You releasing a breath you did not realize you were even holding (She almost said it. The phrase. “We got a job to do.”) as Adler put his hand back on your knee, all casual and languid. Not like he just smacked the shit out of someone. You try to ignore how touched you’re feeling at how quick and protective he is now. (Adler from a decade ago wasn’t. Not much. Not like this. Russell is yours. Is he? You haven’t spoken at length about your suspicions of Case. Or what Adler may be planning from his own observations he’s had with you about Case. Stop it. You’re not like Case.) “She’ll keep talking and making up stories to get you wound up.”

“Wonder where she got that from,” you managed to quip. A distraction.

Sev raised a brow at the light shrug Adler did in response to your words.

“Well, well. How many protégés do you have laying around, Adler? Who also want to kill you.”

You’re loose tongued, you think. You’ll blame it on the gas as to why you answered the way you did. Plus the threat of sudden disclosure, your blotchy past nearly staining the fragile team-balance.

“Two for both, isn’t it?” you asked Adler genuinely, rotating your head towards him and all. Adler threw you a dry look beneath his shades. You tried not to shrink. You failed. Damn gas. Damn his icy blue eyes you can get lost in just like the touch on your knee. (Just like on the cliffs near the boulders when Adler said “I handled, Gusev. Just like I said, Bell. He’s shredded into tiny little mad scientist pieces. The gas won’t get you, лапушкаka. I got you,” he said to your ear, all low, breathy and husky to your needy and torn mind. His scent all around you, with your back to his chest—of course you grabbed him roughly and kissed him when he speaks so sweetly of another’s death.) “Too much?” You let out a short hysterical laugh, hand to your head, shifting in your seat to hide what’s rising low in your belly. “Not the same across the board when it comes to being in your bed, though.”

Felix made a choked sound even you could hear from the comms, the most he’s spoken since Harrow got in the chopper. You suddenly feel like you’re twenty eight again, cheeks heating as Sev let out a whistle, Marshall looking uncomfortably towards the floor. 

Adler didn’t have much of a reaction, only staring at the side of your head. His stare only making your cheeks prickle more. He can see. (The kiss turned wanting, your hands wandering to the base of his neck with beautiful wheat tresses and the other to his lower region. He made a delectable sound from the back of his throat that lit a fire in you. You wanted him here and now. All your fears of Adler from a decade ago gone when Russell turned the both of you, more hidden behind the boulders of the cliff under the moonlit sky. Shushing your whines softly or with a kiss and a burning touch from your abdomen to the waistband of your pants, quickly feeling out how needy you are already with his hands that make and unmake you. Have made and unmade. You don’t care, you want him now—not just his hands. Russell stopping you with a raspy chuckle, his large hand over your own on the tent of his pants. “Not now, Bell. Let me take care of you. Besides,” the both of you were laying against the rocks and pebbles, digging into your back but you didn’t care, desperate. Stilling only when Russell’s words breathed against the shell of your ear. “You’ll sing a little too loud if I fuck you. The kids may hear.” A kiss to your ear. The insertion of another key to unlock, make you break open with a gasp as he picked up the pace. “Is that what you want, Bell? Нет. Ты просто хочешь, чтобы я увидел тебя в сперме, покрывающей тебя и мои пальцы, хм?” He easily switched, knowing your weakness when he spoke your mother tongue, his mouth roving from your ear to neck, free hand from roving to pinching to starting to tug your pants farther down. You’re thankful you didn’t wear jeans, you’re so close. “Только для меня. Я тоже могу тебя съесть, а ты можешь дергать меня за волосы, как всегда, милая.”) 

Adler sees. Because he lets out a chuckle with a light smirk that makes you shudder. Just like how he looked with your juices dripping down his chin.

“No point in professionalism now. Too many types of fucking going around since this whole business started.” 

Oh no. You do feel twenty eight again. The only good thing coming out of that gas and regression. You really want to jump his bones right now. His need to take care of you be damned. Wait… bones? You’ve turned from hysterical to very hysterical. You’re more poetic in your head than that. Oh no. He can tell what you’re thinking because you keep staring at him and assessing. In front of everyone. You see him tilt his head at you, falsely curious with his lips a touch up, hand rising from your knee to the top of your thigh in one fluid motion.

Your head’s turns so quickly you see stars, opening up the laptop once more and faking work to get him to stop. So you can stop.

You really need to get your head together. Right after he gets his hand off of you.

▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▛ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▟ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚

Marshall knew he shouldn’t listen. Just like he knew in a deep part of him, that the Jane he thought he knew never existed. But he didn’t want to give up on her, not yet.

He always admired her tenacity, her ambition—how much she climbed to be where she was today. How she opened up to him about her journey of climbing up the steep cliffs to be right below the Director of the CIA. Just like how she admired his art, his drawings—his skills. Something settled in his stomach, whether it was nerves or warmth or a mix of both he didn’t know, when he saw she had it framed in her office. The drawing he gave her in private, her eyes alight and glittering up at him as she smiled softly up at him. He thought he did a smile back. Maybe a little awkward. A little hopeful.

The hope was gone. She’d been strapped to a chair, legs and wrists tied where he and Adler were interrogating her in the storage room of the house, windows tightly closed and dark. No way for her to know where they were.

And despite how he’d tried to be soft with her, reason with her—trying to find something, she dodged the question. Rolling her eyes at him even attempting to ask her about her evil master plan. Backhand compliments that used to be true and real but instead she twisted it—how studious he was, how annoyingly persistent, how his gentlemanly behavior was getting him nowhere fast. He thought he would be able to get through to her as a friend. He couldn’t. So he stepped back with a hand rubbing his face and motioned for Adler to take over—her mentor. The one who helped her refine her skills, sharpen her attributes (there’s a bitter taste in Marshall’s mouth, a part betraying him that Adler’s wildfire spilled onto his friend— and now she’s burning) and grow in the CIA.

Except it backfired. Marshall saw the way her eyes changed, the subtle shift of her lips curling. The sarcastic amusement in her eyes were gone, more dark. Twisted. Before she settled back into the sarcastic quirk of her lips, but her eyes didn’t change as Adler tried to get it out of her. That she’s helping no one. That will she really be responsible for thousands of deaths. Jane gave the same answers she gave Marshall. Shorter. Curt. Before she seemingly couldn’t take it anymore, the final straw when Adler implored her to take responsibility. 

“Responsibility?” She strained, shaking her head at Adler whose face was leaned down towards hers, his hand around her restraint on her wrist. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. Is that what you’re doing with your precious project, Bell? Taking responsibility?” She rolled her head to try to face Marshall who was just a few feet away with crossed arms, his brows furrowing as he met her eyes around Adler’s form. “Why are you working with Adler of all people, Troy? You know what people have said about him. A man who kept a terrorist asset alive? Against the CIA’s wishes? Do you really trust him?”

Marshall frowned, thinking back on Adler’s explanation as well as Woods and Bell’s own.

Perhaps not so much ex-KGB, after all, as actively KGB like they’d said—claimed. Maybe even part of the Perseus ring, a low level person in his circle. 

“I don’t care what Bell was before.” He maintained eye contact with conviction. “She saved the world. That’s enough. Hell, we got a guy that was actively in the Stasi while betraying them at the same damn time.”

Jane clicked her tongue disappointingly at him. 

“You don’t know the whole story, do you? You wouldn’t be so chummy if you did.”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed before shooting Adler a look. He recalled how meek the woman had been the days following the gas incident. How, in her quasi-consciousness, she’d called out for Adler to stop—something.

“What’s she talking about?”

“You’re falling for her words on purpose,” Adler stated with a shake of his head, lifting up and away from Jane with pressed lips. The man had been doing that a lot to him lately. Ever since his mistake with Bell. Disapproving shakes of his head or disappointed sighs. “She’s trying to get you riled up and distracted and it’s working. Jane. Stop fucking around, where’s the weapon?”

“Come on, Marshall,” Jane cajoles, moving her hands as much as she could to motion a finger to her head. “Think. Something isn’t right with Bell. She’ll never be right in the head.” Jane turned to Adler with a sneer. “Adler I’m sure likes it that way. Don’t you?”

He’s trying to not doubt. They don’t need this. Jane is playing them. 

It’s pissing him off it might be working.

“Jane, just—“ Marshall flapped a hand around as if to motion for her to stop but he instead let it drop with a heavy tired sigh. Adler stepped back with a stoic expression towards Jane as Marshall stepped forward with a gentle yet firm hold on her shoulder while the other was atop her hand. “Just stop. Stop, okay? Woods wouldn’t lie to me. I trust him. Please, Jane. Just tell us the plan. I don’t want things to get ugly. It never has to get ugly between you and me.”

Jane’s eyes met his—and all Marshall saw was a stranger who pitied him. Her next few lines cemented where she stood—where she chose to make her stand. A hill she was willing to die on. Marshall’s head spun wretchedly, his mind unable to discern why. 

“You should know by now, Troy. Don’t trust anyone. Remember?” Jane moved her head back, top of her head against the back of the chair with a victorious smile on her lips. “Besides. It’s too late. Whether things ‘get ugly’ between you and me or not—they’re coming for you. And the plan will continue.”

Marshall’s eyes squinted behind his glasses, his mind going to the worst case scenario as Adler cursed softly behind him.

“How would they know?”

“Move, Marshall.” Adler pushed Marshall’s hand away from atop Jane’s own, pushing her sleeves up and feeling around with his digits before Adler’s expression turned hard. “Tracker. Thought of everything, huh?”

“You taught me to,” Jane quipped neutrally. No hint of bitterness or gloating—pure discretion.  

Adler turned his head towards Marshall, hand still firm around Jane’s arm with a grip tighter than strictly necessary. It made Marshall want to say something, to suggest they afford her gentleness, as if there was a sliver of chance she might come around. But—

He didn’t. Dread, or perhaps regret, began to compound—his mood taking a turn for the worse; were they doing the right thing?

“Change of plans, Marshall. We’re going to do this my way.”

Fuck. That’s all Marshall could think as he stared down at his once friend. His once something. What could’ve been. Fuck, Jane. What have you done?

▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▛ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚ ▟ ▞ ▚ ▞ ▚

The moment you heard the words, all perfectly constructed and subtle—too hard for others to tell on Adler’s meaning but you knew, you knew—a crack of betrayal occurred that no one else could hear.

“I’ve got something tucked away that can help.”

He lied, you thought, grip on the desk you were leaning on tight as Marshall gave his permission (Adler always lies.) and began to walk out the room. You were trying to not scream at Adler, whose gaze finally turned in your direction, a frown tugging his lips. He had no right to feel upset on my behalf, he l̷̺͌i̸̛͇é̶͇̹̇d̶̰͝! 

After he took a slow deliberate step towards you, seeing how you tensed—close to bolting away—he sighed through his nose and nodded at you instead, his head motioning out the room; Woods rolled to be by the man’s side, his own gaze knowing what Adler meant and a frown of his own pulling down to hide in his beard.

“Grab Felix to help you set up the house. Even when I have everything set up, we need to keep constant hands to make sure that Pantheon can’t get through.” Your eyes thinned, mind working overtime trying to find Adler’s meaning as he kept his gaze on you—being open and respecting your distance. (A lie? Adler was always good at baring his neck at you to show trust even a decade ago. Must be. He’s playing again. He s̵̹̄͝a̸̧͍͙̣̒͛͆͌͜͠i̶̝̟̖̝͈͂̃̈́̒d̷͇̠̠̮̖͊̆͑͝ he didn’t have it.) Sev followed after Marshall as he left the room, but of course Case was staring, his brows mildly furrowed so Adler couldn’t quite speak freely like you thought he wished. “Harrow is gonna get all that I had in the back burner. I’ve kept it for situations like this.”

It’s not for you—

—you heard him say in your head, jaw clenching as you stared at Adler in silence before your gaze turned towards where they held Harrow, in the storage room. Only to loosen your grip and relax your jaw as you thought back to your openly vulnerable position with Adler when you first arrived from the lab. Adler never said he didn’t have it, only ever responded to your questions of whether he would use it on you again. 

It was never meant for you.

(Right. This is Russ. He’s Russ. Adler’s mostly gone.) 

You nodded in understanding, watching how Adler’s shoulders interestingly relaxed a pinch before you focused on Woods—asked if he had a secret cache of deadly explosives stowed anywhere. The rugged man grinned up at you, noting how you didn’t appear like a rabbit about to bolt, and rolled his wheelchair to show you, his laugh remaining as obnoxious as ever despite the circumstances. You ignored how Case’s curious gaze seemed glued to your back as you went to work. Exactly what he witnessed and assumed was far from your most pressing issue.

By the time everyone else converged in the Evidence Board Room, you and Felix were still outside the front of the house setting up; sandbags and various weapons were arranged within easy reach for your crew. It was during this that you couldn’t but keep glancing at the lack of gloves on Felix, frowning as you loaded an AMES-85.

“… sorry.”

Felix paused his ministrations of setting up the RC-XD’s, eyes wide and blinking openly at you.

“This is a first. I never thought I would hear any word that may even hint at an apology from you. I doubted it was even in your vocabulary.” Seeing at how you stayed silent, only pressing your lips and avoiding his gaze before moving on to the next gun to load up, Felix rose a brow. “What’s brought this on, meine Freundin?”

“You weren’t supposed to go on that mission. In the casino,” you elaborated when you saw Felix’s confused look in your peripherals. “It was supposed to be me. You shouldn’t have needed to break your code. I… have my own set of rules I follow.”

“Involving Adler I imagine?” Your lips quirked at how the German man clocked you. Uncaring at how openly you are when it comes to your feelings about the man, despite the irritation still simmering. Your mind calmed after Adler’s words after all. You believe him. He wouldn’t lie, not about this. Not when he brutally killed a man for you so you didn’t go through that gas again. (“Or…as we liked to call you—Ḅ̷̧̞̳̳̈̇͘ȅ̶͓̗̈l̵̥̀̌l̵̠͕̖̠̟̋́̅̚.” A bell rings in the echoes of your bruised mind, distant. Not as clear. Fading.) Felix assessed you before turning back to what he was doing, checking over all the different grenades and extra armor plates as he walked past you—the air crisp from the forest yet carrying that ocean hint from the cliffs. (You shouldn’t like standing over those cliffs so much. But you do. You should’ve died that day. The reminder that this is where you began your life anew—reincarnation. “The shot won’t be fatal. Not if you get help quick enough. They’ll have soldiers patrolling around that we may have missed. You got to do this right, Bell. You understand?”) “What’s done is done. My burden is not something you should carry, it was my choice after all. And with this assault coming to our doors, I can’t exactly lounge behind my desk while all of you do the work now, can I?”

“Ah, I see how it is.” You check the scope of an AEK-973 and aim it towards the hilltops to check the quality, smirking. A soviet gun you were distantly familiar with; it felt more at home in your hands than any American iron did. “You don’t want to feel burdened by having me—of all people—protect you and one-up you in the field. Perish the thought, Felix.” At Felix’s delicate huff, you lowered the scope and looked at him a bit more serious. “Did Sev make you change your mind?”

Felix held C4 in his hand, and double checked the detonation wires with critical eyes as he answered.

“Not necessarily. She merely… had me open my eyes on rearranging my priorities.”

“I see… and this is the result of said ‘rearranging’?” 

You caught the C4 charge he threw at you, raising your brows when you noticed he added an extra charge to make it more explosive.

“Klappe zu, Affe tot,” Felix said an answer with the common tight lipped smile he does. “They’ll have a hard time getting us with this in hand.”

You raise your brows, a sharp smirk as you threw the C4 charges up in the air a few inches, catching it in clear approval.

“без усилий не вытащишь и рыбку из пруда.” You handed them back to him with a teasing pat to his shoulder. “Not bad. If I didn’t know you any better with how you stick your nose up, I would think you would be trying to seduce me, товарищ.”

Felix rolled his eyes and moved away from your touch as you both walked around the house, headed for the backyard to prepare the resistance effort there.

“To listen to your constant jabberings even more? Your presence is barely tolerable as it is with how distracting your large head is trying to fit through a door.”

You snorted a laugh.

“I upgraded to ‘tolerable’ have I? And here I thought I would be the arrogante Frau forever. Don’t fall for me too hard like the Berlin Wall, Felix. You’ll get hurt.”

You heard Felix mutter something or another again in German, now clearly wiping away at his shoulder where you touched as if to show.

It wasn’t long after that you had everything in order, you having to swallow back the nerves building in your throat as you went back in towards the Evidence Board room or how Marshall coined it—the ops room. Adler was leaning against the wall by the CCTV’s they had set up in there, smoking before he took notice of the both of you approaching. 

He let Felix pass but he managed to obscure your view, preventing you from staring at Harrow and Marshall, her eyes glazed over as he held her hand and spoke comfortingly in her ear. 

The scene was concealed by Adler’s chest, clad in his Henley shirt, his hand lifting carefully to your cheek. Allowing you time to move. You stayed.

(You’ll always stay.) 

You didn’t flinch, but your eyes did shutter at the touch, his thumb grazing below your eye. You rolled your head forward to lean against his chest, Adler easily maneuvering to accommodate the action, placing an arm on your waist and holding his cigarette with his other hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing it?” You murmured into his shirt, blinking your eyes sluggishly. The others were too focused on Harrow to pay attention to whatever the two of you may be saying. You didn’t know why you felt tired all of a sudden. As if seeing the image of Harrow, even in those few seconds before Adler blocked your vision—your body remembered just how hard it was.

Ṱ̶̃o̶̖̒͂ ̵̧̧͋o̴̖̭̕ṕ̵̘̲e̴̠̜̋n̵̗̹̾ ̷͇̍̔ṯ̵̂̏h̸̤̊̂e̵͉̰̔ d̸̨͍̘̯̟̱͈̗̫̳̓̈́͠ơ̶̮o̶̢̪̣̣̫͍͖͕̹̥̊̓͆̀̎̉́̚̕͠r̸̛̲̫͉̹̓͑.

Stop it, you told yourself, as if that would hinder your reopened wounds from spilling out, slapping a bandaid on a nasty gash. I’m not doing that anymore. It’s Harrow. It’s Harrow!

“No. It couldn’t be me,” Adler softly answered in your ear, unknowingly stopping a bell that started to chime its cryptic song. “It has to be someone she’s close to. Trusts; I don’t think Jane has trusted me for a long time.”

Adler spoke with a hint of resignation, his resolute nonchalance troubled, as troubled as the typically stoic man could be. You couldn’t see his face to confirm your suspicions, only humming in acknowledgement as he inhaled a deep drag from his cigarette. He moved you slightly back, and you lifted your head to see him motioning his cigarette towards you. The embers burnt, freshly red, glowed with new life as he exhaled from the side of his mouth, blown so that you wouldn’t have a plume of smoke in your face—stinging your eyes. The proffered cigarette prompted you to think; Adler was fully aware of how clean you are from nicotine (him being the sole reason). He however sated the part of you that stared longingly at the smoke coming out of his lips with a cool exhale into your open mouth, prompted or otherwise—he certainly wasn’t in the habit of actually offering. 

“Your favorite de-stressor?” Moving your hand up, you didn’t take the offered cigarette, but rather limply held his wrist, your touch light as you thumbed his pulse point. 

“Second,” he corrected quietly.

You rose a brow as you faced him, a suspicious ghost of a smile rising.

Adler’s answer was his own brow rising, a shadow of a teasing smirk to match. You rolled your eyes before rising to deliver a quick peck to the side of his mouth, deriving comfort from the mouthfeel of his scar, the smell of his skin. You took in his warmth by nuzzling into his chest again, fully focused on his presence. 

You will for Harrow’s increasingly apprehensive words (spilling from her lips, bleeding from her mouth) to fade off somewhere in the distance.

“I don’t need it. You know I have to take it from your own mouth for me to like it.” You preferred  the delivery of the smoke directly rather than actually using it the “normal” way.

“Taking it like that might be more harmful than the normal way,” Adler nagged, you don’t know why. He does it when you ask. Sometimes unprompted as well. It always leads to something or another. You’re not asking him for it right now however. Not appropriate. 

Adler sighed, placing his cigarette between his mouth, freeing his hand to settle on base of your neck, weaving through some of the hair there and scratching at your scalp. It made you unconsciously lean more of your weight against the man as you breathed out contentedly. “You shouldn’t be letting me do that so freely, Bell.” Your brows pulled together, pulling your head back slightly to see Adler’s visage was a hint taut, his lips more pressed than necessary around the cigarette. Before you can ask what was wrong with him, his hand roved from the back of your neck to the side of it—his thumb at the apple of your cheek as he gazed searchingly down at you, using his other hand to grab at the cigarette so he could freely talk. “… after this mess is cleaned up, we should go to Berlin.”

The perimeter alarm sounded just as you were about to question him, his sudden yet vulnerable sounding statement. Bodies sprung into action as Felix announced they were coming from the north; you stepped forward a few feet away from Harrow, your eyes on the way she seemed to be not here. Her eyes closed, murmurs and mutters escaping—hands furling and uncurling. You glanced at Case, who seemed to be watching her the same, a set grim line for a mouth. And his eyes…

Vengeful? You frown at what you saw, only for orders to be barked for Woods to be the one to finish extracting information from Harrow while the rest of them held the perimeter—or at least attempted to defend it. Woods? Alone?

“Wait!” You spoke up, now between the door of the ops room and Adler’s table that he enjoyed using for his smokes. Marshall paused giving orders to offer you his attention; the others did the same. “I’ll stay with Woods. Just as an extra measure if they manage to get through.”

“Bell, are you sure?” Woods was looking at you in clear concern, gaze flitting from Harrow to you. Strange to be involved on this side of things, for once, but you were careful not to look too discountenanced; you’ve had a decade to get ahold of yourself. 

You nodded, hand tightening on your side as you grabbed an XM4 and a Grekhova from the table, giving Adler a nod along with Woods—determined.

“I’m sure. We can’t risk anyone trying to stop us from getting the information we need. Besides,” you threw Woods a smirk that didn’t reach your eyes, but you hoped it still sent the message, “I can’t leave you with just your tank, Woods; nothing wrong with a little extra firepower. You can try to kick my ass on the Nintendo once this is over.”

Woods snorted as he returned your nod, his eyes rolling up in exasperation. Marshall mirrored the gesture of affirmation with haste. 

“Got it, Bell. You and Woods handle Jane, then, while we focus on defending the house from all sides. Close the ops room, Bell—“ 

You looked up with wide eyes as Adler strode easily across the room towards you, your gaze rising as he neared closer. Using a loose—although firm—hand on your upper back, he pulls you in to plant a quick yet searing kiss. You felt your face heat up, acutely aware of the audience in your peripherals, as you fisted around his form-fitting shirt. He leaned back, and there was a split-moment that he paused—engaging you with a soft look—before he gave you a steady nod, returning to load magazines with quick fingers. You wonder if the gas had fucked you up more than you thought, for him to offer his affection so publicly. The action used to soothe your still frayed mind. Sev whistled, loud and impressed, as Felix stared before averting his gaze. 

Marshall appeared as if he was stuttering without saying anything; he blinked himself out of his mild stupor before he continued. “O—kay, listen up!” 

You stepped back, away from the table, into the ops room and slid the metal door closed. You didn’t hear the rest as you closed the door, turning your back to it with your firearm lax in your hands, observing as Woods picked up where Marshall had left off.

It was… strange. Watching Harrow as Woods tried to guide her through, despite her obvious fear, as if she were a little girl. You didn’t catch much—with Adler distracting you—but from what you could tell from observing Harrow’s fast mutterings (You looked like that. You never asked Adler and he never explained. About the murmurs and the visions you saw, of how you must’ve been trembling in place just like Harrow was. Did you switch from English to Russian consecutively? To German when you saw the sticky notes? They gave you an adrenaline shot too. Harrow is lucky.) something had happened to her parents. Someone had killed them.

When she said the name, it threw you and Woods for a loop.

“Her parents must’ve been working with terrorists,” you lowly interject when Woods called Adler’s name, appalled - disbelieving. Your gaze cool as you flicked towards Harrow’s form on the chair (You tried the p̴̢͒̚ͅẖ̸̇r̶͊͜ã̶̞̿s̶̡̮̾e̷̢͋̕, this is what you get.) to assess. “Adler doesn’t touch innocents.” You know that. You know it intimately. 

You must’ve talked louder than you thought because before Woods could agree, Harrow voiced her denial, her voice thick and desperate, you thought.

“No! You—you don’t know anything!” It’s as if she forgot to breathe between words; the hatred, force and desperation in her tone turned her voice hoarse—and bitter. “Adler killed my parents. You must know it. What he is, what he’s doing to you despite his shitty charms. He used you—and is still using you! Adler is disgusting—a wretch.”

You gritted your teeth, tightening the hold on your gun while Woods defended you.

“Stop it, Harrow! Bell isn’t brainwashed anymore! That’s not what we should focus on. How are you so sure it was Adler? You were a kid.”

“N-No…” a slight dither, “it was! I know it was!”

“How can you be so sure?”

Harrow was hesitating, you could tell by just how deeply disturbed she appeared at the possibility—the chance that the Pantheon used her desperation against her. The desperation of  a child that, for years, had tried to find a reason for her parents’ death; a child that needed for there to be some kind of sense behind it, a meaning.

The ever-growing pool of hateful pity rose in you, your expression turning colder when the woman started panicking. So lost. So fearful. Confused. At war with herself and her supposed convictions—denial that she got played in the first place like a fucking third hand used up doll with hope to make things right or being the self righteous bitch that thinks she’s in control.

What’s gotten her into such a tizzy? You watched as Woods’ own pitiful expression towards Harrow, a touch of concern as her eyes shuttered in time with her feet moving on the floor, as if she wanted to flee; he muttered about her rising heart rate as he felt around the pulse point in her wrist. Your fingers were clenching and unclenching around the fore-grip of your XM4, strong contempt at her - what she’d done; framing Adler for the intelligence fuck-up that was Panama. And yet Woods still had this concern, concern for who he thought Harrow was, only for it to be lie. Despite how the man put up a front, you knew his inside was soft. He had to be. 

She’s acting like they gave her multiple doses. I wasn’t this pathetic . Giving all this information so easily.

You couldn’t stand the sight anymore; you turned your focus, instead, to ensure the door of the ops room remained secure. You moved things from Woods’ desk a few feet away against the wall—out of the way—and turned his desk over, careful in your effort to not disturb the… interrogation exercise, forming a makeshift blockade. A bit of cover if the ops room were to be compromised.

Woods had his full attention on Harrow, too busy focusing on a seizing Harrow, coaxing her to say the last bit of information needed—where they’re deploying the Cradle, to bother nagging at you about messing up his stuff. You double checked his own weapons, too, and ensured that they were loaded and serviceable before placing them within reach of him, going as far as propping the shotgun carefully between the outside of his thigh and the sides of the wheelchair to hold it. 

She passed out? Woods’ sharp curse when you handed the weapon off prompted your gaze to lock on her, and you saw how Harrow’s head was completely forward and slack. Woods gave Marshall updates as he tried to shake the woman awake, firmly insistent that they weren’t done yet—as if she could hear, somehow—and that she needed to push through it. Your lips curled, sneering. She expects to lead the CIA when she’s so feeble in mental strength? This ambition of hers is just a pipe dream; she’s nothing more than just a mere ant. (Unlike you. You were better than that, you were going to be P— -̷̛͎̏̕) 

You would’ve grabbed the woman’s hair by the scalp and slapped her if Woods hadn’t handled it; she finally spilled just as separation wore off, her true self coming through—the version of herself that’s just a smug bitch who thinks she knows it all. Too late for her—Woods had managed to get the information that you needed.

Your ears pricked at an explosion near the ops door, the metal groaning from the impact. Getting behind the desk you turned over, you turned the pin of your XM4 to fire and held it ready, soberly anticipatory.

“Woods!”

“Shit!” Woods begun to roll his wheelchair back, and away from Harrow, to support you. Pantheon’s attempts to breach the room were audible, and it was clear that they were making headway, each attempt less fruitless than the last. A split second of shuffling has your eyes widening with realization—they were going to place a breaching charge.

The gun was held steady in your arms, your scope aimed towards the ops room’s point of entry as you crouched behind for protection—at the ready. “Yeah, I got it! I need to make a quick call to Livingstone!”

The silence was eerie, your heart hammered and you didn’t dare tear your gaze from the door. You forced yourself to breathe evenly and hoped that Woods would get the message out in time. 

“Woods,” you said in warning, hearing the heavy footfalls right outside the door as soldiers cleared back, preparing for the detonation. 

“Gettin’ there,” he barked. 

Just as you heard the distinct transmitted tone from the transponder, Woods just managing to get the message out, the Pantheon blew open the iron door; soldiers filed in—the lead equipped with a riot shield. 

You focused on the man with the shield and Woods used his shotgun, his sights set on the others filing in from behind the lead soldier’s sides, forming a human barricade between you—and the exit. 

There was only one way out.  

You shot the man’s feet, Rules of Engagement damned, and downed him just as you needed to reload. No time. You took out the Grekhova as more soldiers came in, cursing at the seemingly constant waves of them, and scrambled back—away from the desk—due to the speed of their flanking. 

Woods faltered in his support, cursing as he had to throw his shotgun away and reaching for his pistol, M1911, as you came by his side to support him. Seeing how soldiers were getting closer and closer. Hand to hand it was. 

You took a sharp inhale, lunging forward and closing the gap with the soldier in front of you before they could react. Your hand shot out, gripping their wrist and turning it down. The soldier snarled and tried to twist away, but he was so slow. 

You struck his wrist with your free hand, aiming for the grip on his firearm to loosen, succeeding. You grabbed it and gave a swift kick to his ankle, his balance faltering. That’s all you needed—you shoved the barrel of his XM4 under his chin at an angle, pulling the trigger as the fully automatic firearm sprayed into his skull. There was little time to think about the sensation of warm blood splattering down the side of your head. Shot in the head with his own gun. You scoffed, he shouldn’t have lost it so easily, then. Shouldn’t have let you get so close; a firearm’s only good when there was a bit of distance. 

Before it could fall, you grabbed the corpse by the shoulder straps of it’s armored vest, struggling to keep the dead weight upright as you shielded yourself. 

Bullets continued to come your way, your eyes hard as you tried to cover Woods, too, as he kept shooting with his pistol. You free your dominant hand, using the back of your palm to quickly wipe the slickness of sweat and tacky blood from your cheek before reaching for the corpse’s thigh holster—a GS45 fastened there.

Freeing it from the holster, you messily cover your right, conscious of the magazine capacity, as Woods handled your left. The longer you held the corpse, the more your arm started to burn with the effort—easily over eighty kilos of dead weight. 

It was unsustainable; a sharp surge of irritation when the pistol stopped firing, punctuated with a dull click.

“Ебаное дно!” You clicked your tongue, unwilling to give up until they had you six feet under. The soldiers advanced significantly—well within arms reach of you.

Too close.

You threw the dead body towards them, utilizing the temporarily distraction to grab a homing knife from your thigh strap. Immense pressure erupted from your shoulder, the feeling of powerful force indicated a shot was made—whether the bullet grazed you or worse was hard to tell, it hurt all the same.

Gritting your teeth, you grunted but kept your aim true as you threw the homing knife.

Bullseye. 

The blade impacted the one you shoved the body toward. Meeting an eye with a slick sound, their body joined their fallen comrades. The motion had aggravated the new injury on your shoulder, and although you anticipated the move, you hadn’t enough time to recover before the other soldier lunged at you. 

The breath was knocked out of you. You fell to the floor, hard, your teeth clacking together as the back of your head hit the ground. Blood in your mouth—you must’ve bitten your cheek— and an uncomfortable feeling jolted your bones, Woods not fairing any better; they’d torn him down, too. 

You snarled, grabbing a knife from the back of your boot to slash at the man’s ankle, your shoulder screaming as you forced the movement. He caught your wrist and twisted it, your fingers splaying reflexively at the pain, yelping. Your eyes followed the blade as it fell to the floor with a brief clatter, irritation spiking when the soldier kicks it from your reach. 

You harshly spit the blood gathered in your mouth to the side, turning your head forward with a huff. The overhead lights were a little harsher as your head spun; the reminder of the last time you were half-dead under blinding lights sat only a few feet away from you. The bitch was doubtless grappling with her returning faculties. Probably already had—she hadn’t required a heavy dose at all. Weak. 

Shame. Should’ve fucking shot her the moment she spilled. 

The barrel of a gun met your face, conviction still running through your veins despite your need to catch your breath, sweat and blood on your skin as you tried to twist out of it. You abandoned the struggle when you realized it’s in vain. Even if you were to break free of the soldier’s grasp, there were half a dozen more in the room. You were injured. 

And fuck, you seethed when you saw they released Harrow—now seemingly fully conscious. She stood from the chair, rubbing her wrists primly. You fought the urge to roll your eyes; she hadn’t even been bound that tight, certainly not to the point of pain. 

“I want both of them alive.” Harrow passed her disappointed glance from Woods to you, the Pantheon soldiers stood you up forcibly, propped you upright with a rough grip around your uninjured upper arm, likely unconcerned that you’d try anything with your other arm, blood staining through the fabric there. You didn’t dare assess the damage, you’d rather not know. Yet. 

Her eyes seemed to change into one of interest as she skimmed over the many soldiers you took down. Her voice was strange, seemingly pleased with herself. “Very interesting. You’re a special one, aren’t you?” 

You spat at the ground, Harrow’s falsely kind tone made your hackles raise, and another soldier grabbed your injured side, reconsidering their hold on you. That you might fight even with just the one soldier holding you back. Their grips grew tight on each side. 

“You’re a pathetic one.” One of the soldiers delivered a smack to your face, your eyes seeing black and stars in your vision, your legs faltering before regaining your balance. You chuckled through blood stained teeth as you rolled your neck to the side, facing Harrow directly. “You talked so easy for us… hah… embarrassing.”

The words didn’t seem to land as you wanted, Harrow—unlike how meek separation had made her—had the courage, the nerve, to attempt to grasp your face. You snapped your teeth at her hand in warning—Harrow’s brows only rising more in clinical interest rather than the annoyance you saw a smidge of. You received another blow to the side of your face, blood spraying onto the floor below you as Woods called your name in concern.

“Bell! You fuckers!” Woods tried to move his arms to no avail, the soldiers foot and hand not moving from his tattooed arms. Woods let out a growl of frustration. “Focus on me, Harrow!”

“Curious,” Harrow continued as if she couldn’t hear the man. “Didn’t know MK-Ultra was this effective. You’re the only live one we have. Adler kept you quite a secret. A dirty one too,” she added in a tone of disgust.

You panted as you tried to get yourself together. “Got a point on all this, сука? Just kill me and get over yourself.” 

Harrow blinked in surprise, mocking with a hand to her chest.

“Kill you? The only live MK-Ultra subject we have? Why would I? It’s clearly effective. You fell in love with the man who tortured you.” Harrow let out a sick and cruel laugh, your stomach starting to drop at the implications when Harrow successfully grabbed your cheeks and squeezed. The pain that prickled from the broken skin on your cheek paled in comparison to your aches elsewhere. Aches everywhere.

Your vision swam, not just from the punches, but from the silhouette of Harrow in front of you to Adler—a decade too young—standing over you in a gurney—g̶̨̦̒l̶̨̘̈͝i̴̥͚̚t̶͕͕͗c̷̢̈́h̷͉͆͠i̵͕̋n̸̨͒̕g̷̰͐ in and out of your vision. You gasped. “I don’t need to fuck you to keep you in line though. Not my type. And despite what you may think of me, I draw the line at sexual assault. But using MK-Ultra on you and maybe what I gave to Case, you’ll be my best asset.” 

“We either control the asset, or eliminate the asset.”

No…

“Leave her alone, Harrow!” Woods yelled through grit teeth, still on the floor. Harrow turned towards the man with sick pleasure and you could see the knife in her hand. “Your head must be twisted if you really think Adler killed your parents and would even touch Bell like that!” 

“Wa-wait, no. Just kill me!” You pleaded, struggling harder in the hold on you to no avail. Your shoulder was hindering you and the ache in your jaw spiked when you moved it wrong. Harrow mocked Woods, scornful gloating before she swung deftly, delivering a knife to his abdomen, your adrenaline rushing and coming two fold. Fight or flight. N̷̺̉͊̈́ö̵͈͙̻t̴̤̻̟̒ ̵͉͙̍a̴̫̬͉͑̈g̵̺͝a̵̻̐i̸̗͚̗̊n̷̨̪̤̒̓̏.

“No! Woods!” You tried to claw, you even tried to bite. But two men in this state was even hard on you. “You little сука! Aмериканская дворняга!”

“Oh?” Harrow stood up, blood slicked knife in hand. You swallowed, roughly; the blood in your throat abrasive. “That’s funny. Aren’t you the dog? You will be. This is the best vengeance. Adler killed my parents. Now I can use his Russian love as I please. My ultimate soldier. Oh sorry. Cолдат would be more appropriate.” 

No. No. No.

You’ll forget. Everything. You won’t know anybody! Again!

Your mind won’t survive this a second time.

Your chest is tight, you feel like you can’t breathe and the room is spinning. You can’t breathe.

You can’t breathe.

(̴͉̪͐̕“̸̟̩̓͂W̵͔̲̱̼̎̓e̵̦̝͋̀̈́́͝ ̶̨̮̪͛g̷͈̺͙̗̓̊̐o̶̭̪̟̒̎̅t̴̡̗̼̫̽̅̆̈́t̶̬̠͍̝̹͛̈́̇ā̴͎̤ ̸̡̜͎͔̭̄͑͝j̷͈̜̆ͅo̵̡̥̣̿́͛̆̔ḃ̸͖ ̴͙͔̭̂t̶͈͇͈̓̎ǫ̵͇̻̯̼͑͆̓͊ ̷̥̅̿d̸̥̹̝̗͂̕o̶̙̲̱͂̄̊́͑.̴̨̨̻̤͎͆̎̔”̶̦̼͕̋̐͗̒)̷͕̮͉̝̂̈́̈̔

No, you don’t! You haven’t for years! 

…right?

Right? 

The bell that was distant is now closer, over your head as it chimed to match the ringing in your ears.

“Bell!” You hear Woods call despite his grievous injury. “Keep fighting them, Bell!”

Time slips through splayed fingers, an immense pressure building somewhere in your head, pain erupting each time you come back to. You gasp.

They brought you outside, the thought suddenly registering as you feel the wind on your face, ice cold air prickling your open wounds. A Pantheon chopper in front of you. 

Your vision growing dark on the edges. You can’t. You can’t get on the chopper.

You’ll die before you do. Your vision swims, your head falling forward and looking at the ground. Chest heaving out of rhythm, gasping for air as if the soldiers hit you another time. 

The ground was shifting. From craggy rocks to puddles. From simple grass to the thick foliage that was home to mosquitos. You spot an MCI on the ground. A lone appendage on the other side. Fires on the trees like mini suns in their brightness and height.

Vietnam.

Your throat was closing tight. Needles.

“Needles?”

“No.”

“Well, look at that,” Harrow taunted, deceptively disinterested. She spoke of you as an asset, an instrument she merely needed to tune before deploying. “Classic panic attack. Don’t need to break you much, then. Hopefully you’ll still be able to take the Cradle better than Case.”

The grip on your arms loosen as your vision swims, you trying to catch your breath with deep gulps of air. You close your eyes. The sound of the chopper rotors whipping hurt your ears. 

The chopper. The only survivor. You picked up the M16—No. Adler. Adler the only survivor. The scar—

“MK-Ultra.”

“No.”

You’re more thrown to the back of the chopper than carefully laid down. The harsh metal jarring you as you tried getting your bearings, elbows digging painfully on the metal. The tread plate flooring scraping on your skin.

Hot metal atop of you. Danger close. Solovetsky.

Someone kneels on your side, grabs a wrist with gloved hands as you lay there with slow even breaths. 

Solovetsky.

Your mind supplies of a rugged voice to your ear atop of cliffs. 

“Follow what I say closely, kid.”

A plan. To live. To be.

“Bullet?”

“No. Never again.”

Adler just barely half an hour ago, looking vulnerable in his softness as he gazed down at you.

“…after this mess is cleaned up, we should go to Berlin.”

A promise.

Your eyes sharpen, a quick inhale as you use your free hand to seize the knife from the soldier’s thigh, slicing his neck before he could comprehend it. Blood spurting on you like the red blooded demon you are. A spray of red mist staining your skin, some falling down to your eyes.

Harrow and the other soldier spin as the helicopter starts to take off.

“What—“

You pounce, snarling just as the soldier takes a step towards you, moving to grab you only to fail as you use your foot—manipulating his momentum—trip him up, throwing him off of the helicopter. Your body hurts. Every part of you aches, but you don’t care. You can’t care, not with the surge of energy you feel. The euphoric high when you make them bleed.

“You fucker!” 

Your vision spins as you feel your nose break with a crack. You rose a hand to block another hit. Feet steady and secure. You give her a swift kick to the chest as she tried to punch you again, her arm swinging towards your abdomen before you terminated the attempt. She lets out a choked gasp as she falls, winded, vicious eyes staring up at you.

Her on the floor from your kick. You standing above, eyes cool with a white knuckled grip on the knife. 

Your figure of red. The Russian you are. 

You climb atop Harrow before she can even move, knife swift towards her chest. Only to be stopped by her own hands atop of yours, two inches away.

You grunt, eyes feral and hungry for more blood. Both of you have your hair matted and sweaty, stuck to skin, frustrated noises coming from you both as you fight to kill and she fights to live.

Live.

“N-no!” Harrow manages to slip through her mouth, knife growing closer. You shift your grip, hand more firmly atop the handle and you using your body weight to push. Push. Just push it in. “No…!”

You growl, teeth out and animal like noises coming out of you. Uncaring if your bloody spittle falls on the bitch’s chest as you grow closer and closer and closer.

Live!

Your knife meets chest, you see it entering slowly just as Harrow does with a yelp. 

“Never…again…!” You spit, pushing it more. 

Harrow’s head meets yours as a shock, nausea suddenly meeting the aching already settled there. The blood loss, your injuries, even the motion of the helicopter taking to the air—it makes it harder for your balance to resettle. Your head spins as you pull back, your back now on the floor as she seizes the upper hand, straddling your waist as her hands wrap around your throat. Your hold on the knife still to her chest, but you struggle without your weight behind it. Without air. You’re choking.

Harrow laughs in your face, all wild and insane—your former grim ferocity fading.

“Ha! Kill… me?! I’ll make sure… Adler sees your head on a spike… you commie bitch…!”

The helicopter is in the air, yet a new passenger arrives. Giving a swift kick down to Harrow’s back, therefore meeting the knife to her chest in a swift movement. It sinks in with the force, past skin, fat and muscle.

Her eyes are wide just yours is, your eyes shifting to beside you to see the stoic and sweaty Case. Harrow had her death rattle atop you her words a mere whisper only you could hear as she looked up at Case. Disgusting, you sneer. She got her fluids on you. Mucus, blood, sweat.

“I… made… you……”

Her last breath fanning your cheeks before you rolled the dead weight off of you. Case makes for the chopper pilot with a swift knock out and quickly gains control.

Your eyes move towards Harrow’s body, staring at her dull eyes with a ruthless look of your own. You put a foot to her shoulder with a sneer.

Never again.

You push her off with your foot. 

Down to the open water and you don’t care for what semantics this could mean.

You instead close your eyes, just like you did in Solovetsky. And feel the sun on your face as Case moves the helicopter. The sound starting to calm you.

“Live. You gotta live for me, Bell.”

“Ha…I did it, Russ. You’re welcome.” You say with a pained smile. And you say it again when you land by the cliffs, Adler rushing towards you with wide eyes—glasses atop his hair as he assessed you on the helicopter. A good thing, too; you’re not sure you have the strength to alight on your own.

His hands seeming to not know where to go, but he doesn’t hesitate. His touch ghosts up your sides, blindly assessing you with a nearly-spooked form of gentleness. He finally took a look at your bloody face, littered with cuts and nasty bruises, still with that distant ghost of a smile. Adler released a breath and brought you gently to his chest, whispering that he has you in your ear as he nuzzled softly into your hair. You could only release a chuckle, one that was more a breath of air than a huff of amusement, as you closed your eyes. You inhaled the familiar comforting scent of nicotine and leather. “I did it, Russ… You’re welcome,” you said again, more quietly than the first time, quickly fading to rest.

Russell shushed you, planting a quick peck to your bloodied temple before continuing to hold you. His hands surely covered in scarlet similar to how you’re drenched in it, spreading it to his own form.

“Yes. Good job,” Russell breathed, moving his forehead to tap against yours, blue eyes on your abused and tired face. “Rest, Bell. Do that for me.”

“O…kay…” You managed before all you saw was black. 

(An image of a bell in your mind’s eye, not moving for a ring.)

▚

▞

▚

A/N: makeyourpeacenow: There's something here to be said about Harrow, the CIA bitch, determined to end Bell, former Soviet, in early 1991 (before the Soviet Union dissolves in December)

Also Adler's two protégés fighting 🫠

Animefreak1145: Case needed a proper crash out and someone to try to defend the poor man. Even though his only defense is a woman who hates looking at mirrors who can't even defend himself from breaking. Don't let Bell get started on Harrow.(too many uncomfortable mirrors here for Bell to face) Also Soft!Adler here(interested at looking at a new potential tool/asset/operative like Case who reminds him of Bell, typical Adler) mixed with psycho. I like Marshall, just not his treatment of Case. Also ex-socialist/commie besties Felix and Bell forever and ever. Nerds for the win~ 💗 🤓Hope ya'll enjoyed this work we did together. There's other stuff I want to comment but I don't remember. Just poor Bell going through bad drug trip... 😔 And Russell making a massacre out of Gusev and willing to have bloody drenched hands along with Bell 🥰 Psycho couple for the win!

Edit: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTY5VWtvK/

Accurate. 😐

Tag List: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @gojocat247 @mayaibnlaahad @dallmaistir @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zachfoxx121 @pyxis-stellae @makeyourpeacenow @obsessedgremlin @butterfly-stitches @djloveyou3000

You have to tell me if you want me to tag you for each update or else I won't know. Or if you wish to be removed.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 4833

A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.

You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared. 

About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt. 

You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands. 

You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car. 

‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.

Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being. 

Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car. 

“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you. 

“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.

‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’

“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.

“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.

‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”

The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”

The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked. 

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”

“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off. 

“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot. 

“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away. 

***

After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks. 

‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’

The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink. 

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament. 

You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in. 

You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny. 

“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”

Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in. 

“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.

It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’

“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave. 

You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car. 

“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.

“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”

“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied. 

“Look, man—” you started. 

“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”

“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised. 

Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”

“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”

The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”

“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it. 

“Oh-kay,” you muttered. 

“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”

“A bit touchy?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed. 

“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked. 

“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”

“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”

“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head. 

“Well, do you know anything about the case?” 

“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”

“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.

“Okay, then what?”

***

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along. 

“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.

“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

“What’s Monday?” you asked. 

“I’ve got an interview with law school.”

“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled. 

Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

“No, and she's not ever going to know.”

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge. 

“And who's that?”

“You're one of us,” Dean said. 

Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.

“You have a responsibility to—”

Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.

“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.

“Guys!” 

“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing. 

The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”

“No idea,” Dean answered. 

Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights. 

“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.

“Who's driving your car?” you asked him. 

He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them. 

“Oh.”

The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible. 

“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.

‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’

“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”

“What?” came his aggravated response. 

You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.

“I’m super,” his brother responded.

You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door. 

“Your car okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”

Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process. 

Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”

***

Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room. 

Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together. 

“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall. 

‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.

His brother turned around. 

“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”

Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are strange.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom. 

You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean. 

“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.

He smiled sadly at it. 

After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”

“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”

“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.

“I’m sure you are,” you smiled. 

“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his. 

“Meh, not much to tell.”

“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted. 

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”

“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again. 

“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.

“You sound like Dean.”

“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—” 

You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest. 

He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?” 

You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said.

“A burger would be great,” you told him. 

“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said. 

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”

“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him. 

You shook your head. “Dick.”

Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out. 

“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.

“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”

“Shit.”

Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.

“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.

Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.

***

You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive. 

After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops. 

Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear. 

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”

“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped. 

“Don’t objectify me.”

“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”

“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”

“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation. 

You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.” 

Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”

“No,” Sam answered. 

You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward. 

“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him. 

“It’s not me.”

You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off. 

“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up. 

The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”

‘That’s it.’

“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully. 

“Sam!” 

Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her. 

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”

You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala��s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you. 

You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots. 

“Sam!”

“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled. 

Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest. 

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car. 

‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought. 

The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window. 

“I think,” Sam responded weakly. 

“Can you move?” you asked.

“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother. 

Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”

You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car. 

You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs. 

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor. 

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau. 

Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.

Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.” 

You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly. 

“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid. 

“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”

“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head. 

“No, no, I shouldn’t—” 

“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”

A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college. 

***

The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. 

“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat. 

“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”

“True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.

“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map. 

“About 600 miles,” he answered.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in. 

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”

The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.

“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.

“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist. 

Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex. 

You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat. 

Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded. 

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”

Sam patted the car door twice before turning away. 

“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.” 

You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay. 

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.” 

Dean then began to drive off. 

The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped. 

“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail. 

He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.

The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment. 

Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom. 

You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex. 

It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed. 

You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say. 

Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.

You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly. 

‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’

[pigeonwbraces]

Itssss backkkk hopefully for good this time

Figured I'd bring the ask back while I work on the comic :b tho I am gonna be taking it slow I don't wanna burn myself out again.

Summery: The Mansion Kids is a Creepypasta x Black Phone au that focuses on Gwen Amy and Susie a year after the Black Phone events as they're suddenly thrust into the chaotic world of Midrelm and their new lives as Proxies to Slenderman, otherwise known as the Watcher!

The story is split between the children of the Slendermansion and their lives as well as the residents of Midrelm.

The Mansion kids:

Gwen,Amy,Susie,Sally,Nina,Ben,Lazari,Lulu,Judge Angel,Bloody Painter,Sen, Mini EJ,Surrender,Ally, Sam,Aldeline and Xirus.

Black Phone Folks:

Gwen,Susie,Amy,Finney,Terrance, Robin,Griffin,Vance, Bruce,Billy,Donna.

Adult Proxies:

Masky,Hoodie,Toby,Jeff,Jane,Clockwork,Ani,EJ,Kate, Killing Kate, LJ, Jill, Zero.Nurse Ann,Sadie,Ghost.

Non slender Proxies:

Mark the Psycho, Dr.Smiley, Liu, Cherry Pau , Vailly, Timelapse , Anais , Dahlia, Huntsman , Lifeless Lucy , Lily Kennett , Scarecrow Girl, Mongrel,Alex Marshall, The Fallen, Freddy Santos, Randy, Keith,Troy, Claudia, Malcom, Yoni,Emra.

Proxie Havers lol:

Slenderman/All his siblings, Zalgo/all his siblings, Kasei, Sully , Puppeteer, Korbyn.

Personal ocs:

Angel/Angie,Liliana,Ava'lynn,Valentina,Ine ,Pigeon and Tamara.

(More to be added cuz it's inevitable I make more ocs-)

Credit for Others ocs that I specifically asked for this au and or that responded to my Need charactes post:

Aldeline: By aldeline_bibeirosu (Insta)

Sully: @cementarybf

Kasei/Lucy: @0o-moonwitch-o0

Lily Kennett: @naughtykittydv-1992

Ghost: @dangerbizz

Liam/X virus: @mamaporcupine

Dahlia: @axolotlbottle

Anais: @paxarsenal

Huntsman/Igor: @b1oodypainter

Mongrel: @nemophilist-wake

Alex Marshall/The Fallen: @cursedlectra

Freddy Santos: @malue-505

FYI: More characters both creepypasta and just general horror can be added or specifically requested, this au is mostly about exploring characters and their dynamics with each other so ey more the merrier! Also there's like an endless amount of creepypastas and Idk all of them so again if u wanna see anyone just ask I'll be glad to look into it and see what I can do.

And last but not least you can also directly ask ME anything if you just want insight onto my thought process or opinions that sort of stuff Idc.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Fic Masterlist

Hello there.

Thanks for stopping by! This is my masterlist of Star Wars fics. I'll update it as I publish new works. Please note that most of my fics contain mature content and are intended for readers over 18. Enjoy, and feel free to drop a comment any time; I love connecting with fellow readers and writers. May the Force be with you!

Updated Jan. 22, 2025

Fic requests are currently closed. Outstanding requests are actively being filled. 🩵

Join my tag list here

Follower Celebration requests are closed.

Halloween party 2024 masterlist

My art tag (dystopicjumpsuit draws)

My design tag (dystopicjumpsuit designs)

Looking for my cocktail masterlist? It's here

Writing advice tag (on writing)

🍋 indicates mature content 🍋

My AO3

Longfics

Stars Beyond Number. (AO3 link, complete)

Soldiers. Heroes. Deserters. Traitors. They've been called many things. As the Galactic Empire rises from the ashes of the Republic, a small group of clone troopers and their allies will find a new identity: Rebels.

Echo, Rex, and Gregor are on a mission to save as many of their brothers as they can. The task is daunting, and their friends are few. But from these small and desperate beginnings will come a spark of resistance that will set the galaxy ablaze.

Cerra Kilian GAR Personnel Datafile

Cerra Kilian Portrait and Character Info

Martyrs and Kings. (AO3 link, complete) Star Wars meets light academia. A post-stasis Kix longfic. Clone medic Kix is a man displaced in time. Captured by Separatists and put into cryostasis when he learned the truth about the clones' inhibitor chips, he awakens fifty years after the end of the Clone Wars. The Republic is gone. The galaxy has changed. And now, the last clone trooper searches for answers with the help of a New Republic historian.

🍋 "Martyrs and Kings AND ZOMBIES!!!" 🍋 - a spooky, sexy one-shot sequel.

Jedi

Cal Kestis

Request: "Cuddles of consolation after a bad day" (GN)

Dark Side

Savage Opress

Part 1: Between the Shadow and the Soul

Part 2: No Other Way

Part 3: Without Knowing How

Part 4: So Close (December 14)

501st Legion

Torrent Company x Reader

Headcanons: Watching a Scary Movie Holovid with Torrent Company

Rex x Reader

🍋 "No Sleep Till Coruscant" 🍋

Request: "Soft looks while cuddling" (GN)

Jesse x Reader

Jesse First Kiss Ficlet (GN)

🍋 "In Which Jesse Gets What He Deserves" (AKA the cuddlefuck fic) 🍋  

🍋"She's Such a Scream"🍋  

Hardcase x Reader

"A Question of Seman-dicks" (GN)

"Hey, Sunshine 💙" (GN)

Dogma x Reader

Quote prompt ficlet (GN)

Tup x Reader

Tup fanart!

🍋 "Do It Again" 🍋

🍋 "Tup à Trois"🍋

The Bad Batch

Hunter x Reader

First kiss ficlet (GN)

🍋 "I Wish All Readers a Very Hunter Life Day"🍋

"Like Home" (GN)

"You Were Warned" (GN; art & drabble)

Crosshair x Reader

"I Know." (GN)

Request: "I'm Right Here." (GN, followup to "I Know.")

"The Plant Prowler of Pabu" (GN)

🍋"Too Early"🍋

Tech x Reader

Request: "Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling/Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do" (GN)

Request: "Putting your ear against their heart" (GN)

Wrecker x Reader

Request: "Trying to crawl under their shirt" (GN)

212th Attack Battalion

Commander Cody x Reader

"Someday" (GN)

🍋"The Night Before Someday"🍋 (GN)

Boil x Reader

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 1)" (GN)

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 2)"

"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 3)"

🍋"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 4)🍋

Art: "Boil deserves to feel pretty" (mildly 🍋. Let's say 🍊)

🍋"Double, Double Boil and Trouble (Part 5)"🍋

Waxer x Reader

"The Sixth Language (part 1)"

"The Sixth Language (part 2)"

"The Sixth Language (part 3)"

🍋 "The Sixth Language (part 4)" 🍋

"The Sixth Language (epilogue)"

104th Battalion - Wolfpack

Wolffe x Reader

"Sweet as Summer Rain"

🍋"Just a Little Bit More"🍋

Coruscant Guard

Commander Fox x Reader

🍋"In the Matter of Marshal Commander Fox vs. the Stocking Kink, the Court Finds the Defendant Filthy."🍋

Hound x Reader

“Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 1: Summer" T version | 🍋 M version 🍋

🍋"Watch and Learn, City Boy, Part 2: Autumn"🍋

Other Clones

Alpha-17 x Reader

🍋"Who's the Alpha Now?" 🍋 (GN)

🍋"Who's the Alpha Now? Part 2"🍋

Neyo x Reader

🍋 "Everybody Hates Neyo." 🍋

🍋 "Everybody Hates Neyo Round 2: Matchmaking Boogaloo" 🍋 (reader got converted to OC)

Neyo first kiss ficlet (GN)

Bacara x Reader

🍋"Nobody Loves Bacara"🍋

Mayday x Reader

Accidental first kiss ficlet (GN)

"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 1" (collaboration with @nika6q)

"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 2" 

🍋"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 3" 🍋

🍋"A Match for Mayday, Chapter 4" 🍋

🍋"Life Day Comes but Once Each Year… but Mayday Doesn't"🍋

O'Niner x Reader

🍋 "Nine Lives for Sergeant O'Niner" 🍋 (cowritten with @anxiouspineapple99) 

Sev (RC-1207) x Reader

"Are You Sure About This?" (GN)

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 1

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 2

🍋 “Turn It Up When You’re Gone.” 🍋 Part 3

Mandalorians

Jango Fett x Reader

"Promises and Pastry"  

Fenn Rau x Reader

🍋 Fenn Rau Thots 🍋

"The Protector of Chopper Base" (GN)

Request: Falling Asleep in Each Other's Arms (GN)

Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries

Fennec Shand x Reader

🍋"Spotlight"🍋

Please don't put my work through AI programs or repost elsewhere. Also, if you’d like custom dividers, feel free to send a request via DM or Ask; I love designing these! But please don’t use mine without permission.

[scaredyspooks]

I’ve finished the first chapter of the Felix x reader fic! It picks up more after this chapter.

05:30. The robotic beep of an alarm across the room, eyes already half open before it goes off and a tired form stretches to life. Feet on laminate flooring, a shiver at the cold wood, and trudging footsteps carrying you to your dresser. The clock is silenced, the sound of a live radio feed taking its place, spilling out the early morning news as you move to the window, tugging the blinds open and squinting at the pouring light. Still wriggling the life into your fingers and toes on the way to your bathroom, you stifle a yawn feeling unusually groggy this morning.

By 05:45 you’re kitted out for your morning jog, a smug smile lifting your lips as you relish in the quiet streets, loving being awake before most of the other people in your neighbourhood, a certain pride at being active and ready for the day. The chill of the fresh air filling your lungs helps push any residual sleepiness from your mind, and kick start your appetite for breakfast.

Having eaten, showered and dressed for work you’re settled at your desk by 09:00, sifting through files of data and trying to force your eyes to adjust to the scrolling code on your screen. Page after page of information and as you scan through them, you jot down notes in shorthand of all the connections between them, your notebook quickly filling up, the margins taken up by reminders of other things to check, people to reach out to and eventually you have a full web of data to present to your boss. As per usual, you work through lunch, too distracted by your work to notice time passing. When 18:00 came, your phone trilled to life just as you were tidying everything away, with slight apprehension, you lift the receiver to your ear.

“Hey, it’s Troy Marshall, remember from that Expo a few years back?” His voice is warm and friendly, but there’s a tension below the surface that tells you something’s wrong.

“Yeah, of course I remember, you okay? How’s your mum and Terry?” You could already tell this wasn’t a social call, but you didn’t want to jump straight into whatever was bothering him.

“They’re good, they’re good…” Oh god, he’s getting ready to spill something. Your finger twirls the cable anxiously, foot tapping away at the linoleum floor of your office, “So, you remember the expo… You know how you owe me that favour? You need to get to the airstrip for o-three-hundred tomorrow morning. Pack light, I’ve wired you some files to read up on while you fly over. You got all that?” His instructions are rushed, like time isn’t on his side.

“Uhh… Airstrip, three AM, pack light. Right?” You’d noted it down as he spoke, panic rising in your throat as you say your goodbyes and place the receiver back down once you hear the beep at the other end, rushing to catch up with your boss before he leaves for the evening.

The moment he sees you, he beams with pride, gushing about how his trusty intel officer was going to help Frank Woods, a personal friend and the man he thanked for not having everyone around him speaking Russian. You give an awkward laugh and he explains how it’s all been covered on his end - your absence would be recorded as an injury and he’ll make sure your job is secure for whenever you come back. The whirlwind speed at which your comfortable life had been thrown into disarray within a mere ten minutes has your head spinning, but either way you have work to do.

By the time you get home, the sun has gone down and rain is hammering at your windows like a clock ticking down until you needed to be at the strip. You stuff the basics into your duffle bag, a couple of outfits, a towel, pyjamas, toiletries, notebook, pens, and you place the files you’d printed at the very top for easy access.

The cab dropped you off at about 02:15, giving you time to sprint up the runway and be herded onto a helicopter, the guard in the passenger seat with you pulling you up as the propellers start to oscillate. You buckle in, pulling on a headset for communication with the pilot and that’s when you find out where you’re headed. Bulgaria. Just after the lifting of the iron curtain, specifically an abandoned KGB safe house, according to the files Troy sent you.

Said files seem to be dossiers on the location, along with each member of your team. Troy Marshall, who you already knew from an expo event that saw each of your promising career programs, among others, coming together to blow air up each other’s arses. He’d gotten you out of some bother with higher ups after you got tipsy and told them all about your opinion of them parading their overworked protégés around, using them and you to stroke their own egos. Since then, you owed him a favour, and this was how he was caching it in. William Calderon, Troy’s teammate who’d joined him in going rogue. Frank Woods, whose reputation precedes him, and a smile lifts your features when you see he’s taken Troy under his wing. That leaves Sevati Dumas, a freelance assassin who struck out from the Guild in Avalon, previously helping Adler investigate Pantheon, and finally Felix Neumann. Ex Stasi, completed compulsory military service in Germany and then went into training with East Germany’s secret police. You knew of them, Germany’s answer to the KGB, seeding distrust among their people and collecting informants among the general populace through fear and coercion. He’d been one of their enforcers, you dread to think the things he’d done at their orders. But apparently he’d seen the light, fleeing to West Germany in a bid to escape their brutality and wash his hands of violence. Direct violence, at least, as he’d moved onto providing his technical expertise to criminal organisations instead.

I guess we all have to get our hands dirty sometimes, you think, and this time it’s your turn. Once you’d scanned through every document, you let yourself drift off into sleep, hoping the remainder of the nine hour journey would pass you by in your slumber.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Mar 24 - 30, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

AMERICAS MOST ELIGIBLE

Bianca Sandoval x MC Fanart 🎨by @lilyoffandoms

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Birth ✒️| Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC - @petalouda85

Blades MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

I Trusted You 🎨| Aerin Valleros x F!human!MC - @erixadraws

Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC Fanart 🎨 by @lilyoffandoms for @petalouda85

BLOODBOUND

Be An Amazing Mother ✒️| Adrian Raines x MC - @stanathanxoox

Gaius Augustine Fanart 🎨by @gaiuskamilah

Kamilah Sayeed Fanart 🎨 by @gaiuskamilah

CRIMES OF PASSION

Gridlocked ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

Hidden Romance ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @storyofmychoices

Home ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

Lofi Beats To Supress Your Anxiety To ✒️| m!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

So Was it Honestly the Best? ✒️🏳️‍🌈| m!Trystan Thorne x MC - @choices-ceri

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Incident in the Ghostland (Chapter 8) ✒️Ⓜ️| Cassius Harlow x Gabe Adalhard - @dreamscapingsblog

IT LIVES ANTHOLOGY

Andy Kang Fanart 🎨 by @artbyalz

Noah Marshall Fanart 🎨by @payroo

Noah Marshall x MC Fanart 🎨🏳️‍🌈by @payroo

NIGHTBOUND

Peacock Princess ✒️| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Complete Open Heart F/AotW List

THE PRINCESS SWAP

Main Characters Fanart 🎨by @lilyoffandoms

RED CARPET DIARIES

Thomas Hunt x F!OC Fanart 🎨by @/artbyainna (IG) (C: @storyofmychoices)

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

The DeFacto Queen (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC, Drake Walker x MC - @angelasscribbles Chapter 5: Come Together

Capitulo 3: Adios New York ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 4: Bienvenidos a Cordonia ✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Capitulo 5: Noche Especial✒️| Liam Rys x F!MC - @belencha77

Once Upon a Time, Book 1. Ch. 1 (Part 7) ✒️| Liam Rys, Drake Walker, etc. - @fadingreveries

WAKE THE DEAD

Close Call ✒️| Troy Hassan x F!MC - @dutifullynuttywitch

CROSSOVER FICS

Bloodbound/Open Heart

Immortal Desires / Open Heart

The Meeting ✒️| Original Characters - @ezekielbhandarivalleros

Immortal Desires/Murder at Homecoming

Murder at Homecoming: Harlow Part 4 ✒️| Cassius Harlow x MaH F!MC - @korgbelmont

Murder at Homecoming: Harlow Part 5 ✒️| Cassius Harlow x MaH F!MC - @korgbelmont

Murder at Homecoming: Harlow Part 6 - Finale ✒️| Cassius Harlow x MaH F!MC - @korgbelmont

[mizuribbons]

for people who don't use reddit i would like to inform you that r/projectsekai has turned into a community for my colorful stage feat mimi harrison for april fool's day

all the character and group names have changed, too. they're under the cut

virtual singer -> digital diva

hatsune miku -> mimi harrison, as in the author of the book "beat the budget"

kagamine rin -> riley kennedy, as in... i don't know who's most well known. many different people showed up...

kagamine len -> leon kennedy, as in the resident evil character i shit you not

megurine luka -> lucy mcdonald, as in... again, multiple results. i don't know.

meiko -> megan hughs, as in the sister of phillip hughes (the cricketer) but misspelled

kaito -> kayden foster, as in... well, google says it's a teenager charged with homicide but i don't know if that's what they meant...

leo/need -> wish upon a starlight

ichika hoshino -> isabella hill, as in the actress (apparently)

saki tenma -> stella taylor, as in the actress (again, apparently...)

honami mochizuki -> hailey marshall, as in a misspelling of the character hayley marshall from the vampire diaries

shiho hinomori -> sophia hunt, as in the soprano (apparently???)

more more jump -> jumping in blind

minori hanasato -> mia hayes, as in the author... or the sims 4 character. take your pick.

haruka kiritani -> hannah klein, as in the screenwriter

airi momoi -> ava miller, as in the actress

shizuku hinomori -> skyler hunt, as in the tiktoker

vivid bad squad -> shake the streets

kohane azusawa -> kira austin, as in a misspelling of the australian netball player kiera austin maybe?

an shiraishi -> anna shaw, as in... a leader of the women's suffrage movement in the united states?? 😭

akito shinonome -> alex sanders, as in the fucking PRIEST???? 💀 well alright then

toya aoyagi -> thomas abbot, as in . an irish scholar and educator? this is getting weird as fuck but sure. sure.

wonderlands x showtime -> the wonderland stage spectacular

tsukasa tenma -> troy taylor, as in- JESUS CHRIST THAT'S A LOT OF PEOPLE NAMED TROY TAYLOR. so it's either the record producer and singer l-songwriter, american coach and american football player, australian footballer, or cricketer. why the fuck are there so many people named troy taylor???!:???: 😭 i guess it fits that a lot of people had the "troy taylor stan" flair too

emu otori -> emily osborne, as in the film producer... or a misspelling of emily osborn, the marvel character.

nene kusanagi -> naomi keller, as in... i don't know. google won't tell me.

rui kamishiro -> rowan kline, as in.. again, google won't tell me, but it looks like he's a footballer or something?

nightcord at 25:00 -> on the down low-d

kanade yoisaki -> kenzie yates, as in.... google won't tell me again.

mafuyu asahina -> madelyn abrams, as in... GOOGLE PLEASE GIVE ME ANSWERS BEFORE I CRY

ena shinonome -> ellie sanders, as in the author

mizuki akiyama -> morgan ascroft, as in... apparently no one. damn.

random side things are "natalie" for the mmj story, who i'm guessing is nanamin? and sally stewarts (sakurako, i assume) who i assume is supposed to be the actress sally stewart

[deanwasalwaysbi]

23 Republican Senators & 124 Congressmen signed an amicus brief to the Supreme Court asking for a 50 state ban on mifepristone, a drug safer than tylenol that is standard treatment for abortion & miscarriages, "due to safety concerns". The brief DARES to argue that banning the life saving drug would save women from 'reproductive control'. (x) These 147 people would rather have women die of sepsis than let women control their own bodies. If your representatives are on this list, call them and tell their office you will be voting against them in the next election because they asked SCOTUS to throw the US medical drug system into chaos at the cost of American lives.

United States Senate

Lead Senator: Cindy Hyde-Smith (MS) John Barrasso (WY) Mike Braun (IN) Katie Britt (AL) Ted Budd (NC) Bill Cassidy (LA) Kevin Cramer (ND) Mike Crapo (ID) Ted Cruz (TX) Steve Daines (MT) Josh Hawley (MO) John Hoeven (ND) James Lankford (OK) Mike Lee (UT) Cynthia Lummis (WY) Roger Marshall (KS) Markwayne Mullin (OK) James Risch (ID) Marco Rubio (FL) Rich Scott (FL) John Thune (SD) Tommy Tuberville (AL) Roger Wicker (MS)

United States House of Representatives

Lead Representative: August Pfluger (TX–11) Robert Aderholt (AL–04) Mark Alford (MO–04) Rick Allen (GA–12) Jodey Arrington (TX–19) Brian Babin (TX–36) Troy Balderson (OH–12) Jim Banks (IN–03) Aaron Bean (FL–04) Cliff Bentz (OR–02) Jack Bergman (MI–01) Andy Biggs (AZ–05) Gus Bilirakis (FL–12) Dan Bishop (NC–08) Lauren Boebert (CO–03) Mike Bost (IL–12) Josh Brecheen (OK–02) Ken Buck (CO–04) Tim Burchett (TN–02) Michael Burgess, M.D. (TX–26) Eric Burlison (MO–07) Kat Cammack (FL–03) Mike Carey (OH–15) Jerry Carl (AL–01) Earl L. “Buddy” Carter (GA–01) John Carter (TX–31) Ben Cline (VA–06) Michael Cloud (TX–27) Andrew Clyde (GA–09) Mike Collins (GA–10) Elijah Crane (AZ–02) Eric A. “Rick” Crawford (AR–01) John Curtis (UT–03) Warren Davidson (OH–08) Monica De La Cruz (TX–15) Jeff Duncan (SC–03) Jake Ellzey (TX–06) Ron Estes (KS–04) Mike Ezell (MS–04) Pat Fallon (TX–04) Randy Feenstra (IA–04) Brad Finstad (MN–01) Michelle Fischbach (MN–07) Scott Fitzgerald (WI–05) Mike Flood (NE–01) Virginia Foxx (NC–05) Scott Franklin (FL–18) Russell Fry (SC–07) Russ Fulcher (ID–01) Tony Gonzales (TX–23) Bob Good (VA–05) Paul Gosar (AZ–09) Garret Graves (LA–06) Mark Green (TN–07) Marjorie Taylor Greene (GA–14) H. Morgan Griffith (VA–09) Glenn Grothman (WI–06) Michael Guest (MS–03) Harriet Hageman (WY) Andy Harris, M.D. (MD–01) Diana Harshbarger (TN–01) Kevin Hern (OK–01) Clay Higgins (LA–03) Ashley Hinson (IA–02) Erin Houchin (IN–02) Richard Hudson (NC–09) Bill Huizenga (MI–04) Bill Johnson (OH–06) Mike Johnson (LA–04) Jim Jordan (OH–04) Mike Kelly (PA–16) Trent Kelly (MS–01) Doug LaMalfa (CA–01) Doug Lamborn (CO–05) Nicholas Langworthy (NY–23) Jake LaTurner (KS–02) Debbie Lesko (AZ–08) Barry Loudermilk (GA–11) Blaine Luetkemeyer (MO–03) Tracey Mann (KS–01) Lisa McClain (MI–09) Dr. Rich McCormick (GA–06) Patrick McHenry (NC–10) Carol Miller (WV–01) Mary Miller (IL–15) Max Miller (OH–07) Cory Mills (FL–07) John Moolenar (MI–02) Alex X. Mooney (WV–02) Barry Moore (AL–02) Blake Moore (UT–01) Gregory F. Murphy, M.D. (NC–03) Troy Nehls (TX–22) Ralph Norman (SC–05) Andy Ogles (TN–05) Gary Palmer (AL–06) Bill Posey (FL–08) Guy Reschenthaler (PA–14) Mike Rogers (AL–03) John Rose (TN–06) Matthew Rosendale, Sr. (MT–02) David Rouzer (NC–07) Steve Scalise (LA–01) Keith Self (TX–03) Pete Sessions (TX–17) Adrian Smith (NE–03) Christopher H. Smith (NJ–04) Lloyd Smucker (PA–11) Pete Stauber (MN–08) Elise Stefanik (NY–21) Dale Strong (AL–05) Claudia Tenney (NY–24) Glenn Thompson (PA–15) William Timmons, IV (SC–04) Beth Van Duyne (TX–24) Tim Walberg (MI–05) Michael Waltz (FL–05) Randy Weber, Sr. (TX–14) Daniel Webster (FL–11) Brad R. Wenstrup, D.P.M. (OH–02) Bruce Westerman (AR–04) Roger Williams (TX–25) Joe Wilson (SC–02) Rudy Yakym (IN–02)

If your representatives are on this list, call them and tell their office you will be voting against them in the next election because they asked SCOTUS to throw the US medical drug system into chaos at the cost of American lives.

Help to patients who have to cross state lines to get medical care by donating to your local abortion fund here. (x)

[catstarrecordings]

CATSTAR RECORDINGS RADIO SHOW 226

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01.Mike Newman - Stop Feeling Down (Original Mix) [Panthera] 02.Mirko & Meex - If You Girl Only Knew (Extended Mix) [HouseU] 03.Sebb Junior - 4 My Luv (Wave Point Extended [La Vie D'Artiste] 04.Alan Dixon - Love Chemicals Feat. Ekkah [Future Disco Dance Club] 05.Effin & Blindin - Lost in time [Mena Music] 06.Kryder, JAI RYU - Minutes To Midnight (Extended Mix) [Armada] 07.David Guetta - Big Fuck feat Ayra Starr & Lil Durk (Murchikk & D!scoman Smile Face Rmx) [CTSTR] 08.Croatia Squad - Speaker Cone Blow [Enormous Tunes] 09.Ninetoes & Alvin Kyer - Heartbeat On Time (Original Mix) [Head To Toe] 10.Raffaele Ciavolino, FederFunk - Your Life [Onako] 11.Rick Marshall & Sarah Kennedy - Happiness (Original Mix) [ArtFunk] 12.Rick Marshall - Spend The Night [Funky Revival] 13.Madds - Words [Sirup Music] 14.GhostMasters - The Same Scene (Extended Mix) [Guareber Recordings] 15.Wayne Soul Avengerz & Odyssey Inc. feat. Joa - Runnin Away (Extended Mix) [Trois Garcon] 16.The Kollective, Discoplex - Mr. Brown (Extended Mix) [Phoenix Music] 17.Block & Crown, Paul Parsons - Give a Little (Original Mix) [PLAYEDiT] 18.Kid Massive - Over You (Extended Mix) [House Heads] 19.Dj.A-Bor - Babydancer [CTSTR] 20.Jackers Revenge, Lissat - Bam Bam [Supercircus] 21.Sean Finn & No Hopes - What a Bam (Milk Bar Extended Remix) [Tribal Kitchen] 22.Diego Serrao - Hate You (Dj.A-Bor Retro Mix) [CTSTR] 23.Tiesto & Tears For Fears x NIIKO X SWAE & GUDFELLA - Rule The World (Everybody) (Extended Mix) [Capitol] 24.Block & Crown, Paul Parsons - Tricky Love [PLAYEDiT] 25.ventuno - Dolcenera [Spinnin'] 26.Marco Ferry, Thomas Menegazzi - Escape [Casa Rossa] 27.CHIPZ - The Monster [WyldCard] 28.Jenn Getz & Alfie - Vibration [Toolroom] 29.Marc Romboy, Timo Maas - Die Zeit [Systematic]

CATSTAR RECORDINGS RADIO SHOW 226 Mixed & Compilation by:Dj A-Bor TELEGRAM CATSTAR REC ЧЕРВОНОГРАД UA https://t.me/catstar

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[redfurrycat]

🎬List of Movies🎬

So, @scottishaccentsareawesome, I thought it would take me at least two days to make a list, because I wanted to list them chronologically, but I had WAY. TOO. MANY. MOVIES. ALREADY?????!!!!!!!! I had to stop! :O

So there you go. Below the cut. I am so so SO sorry... xD

Star Wars: Episode IV – Star Wars (1977, George Lucas)

Grease (1978, Randal Kleiser)

Star Wars: Episode V – The Empire Strikes Back (1980, Irvin Kershner)

Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi (1983, Richard Marquand)

The Goonies (1985, Richard Donner)

Top Gun (1986, Tony Scott)

Dirty Dancing (1987, Emile Ardolino)

Rain Man (1988, Barry Levinson)

Pretty Woman (1990, Garry Marshall)

Hook (1991, Steven Spielberg)

Double, Double, Toil and Trouble (1993, Stuart Margolin)

Jurassic Park (1993, Steven Spielberg)

Stargate (1994, Roland Emmerich)

Batman Forever (1995, Joel Schumacher)

Crimson Tide (1995, Tony Scott)

Jumanji (1995, Joe Johnston)

Sense and Sensibility (1995, Ang Lee)

Mission: Impossible (1996, Brian De Palma)

William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (1996, Baz Luhrmann)

George of the Jungle (1997, Sam Weisman)

Home Alone 3 (1997, Raja Gosnell)

The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997, Steven Spielberg)

Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace (1999, George Lucas)

The Mummy (1999, Stephen Sommers)

Meet the Parents (2000, Jay Roach)

X-Men (2000, Bryan Singer)

Mission: Impossible 2 (2000, John Woo)

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone (2001, Chris Columbus)

Jurassic Park III (2001, Joe Johnston)

Kate & Leopold (2001, James Mangold)

Ocean’s Eleven (2001, Steven Soderbergh)

The Princess Diaries (2001, Garry Marshall)

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001, Peter Jackson)

The Mummy Returns (2001, Stephen Sommers)

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002, Chris Columbus)

Ice Age (2002, Chris Wedge)

Maid in Manhattan (2002, Wayne Wang)

Spider-Man (2002, Sam Raimi)

Star Wars: Episode II – Attack of the Clones (2002, George Lucas)

Sweet Home Alabama (2002, Andy Tennant)

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002, Peter Jackson)

The Tuxedo (2002, Kevin Donovan)

Treasure Planet (2002, John Musker/Ron Clements)

X2 (2002, Bryan Singer)

Johnny English (2003, Peter Howitt)

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003, Gore Verbinski)

The Haunted Mansion (2003, Rob Minkoff)

The Last Samurai (2003, Edward Zwick)

The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003, Peter Jackson)

National Treasure (2004, Jon Turteltaub)

Ella Enchanted (2004, Tommy O’Haver)

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004, Alfonso Cuarón)

Meet the Fockers (2004, Jay Roach)

Ocean's Twelve (2004, Steven Soderbergh)

Spider-Man 2 (2004, Sam Raimi)

The Day After Tomorrow (2004, Roland Emmerich)

The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement (2004, Garry Marshall)

Troy (2004, Wolfgang Petersen)

Van Helsing (2004, Stephen Sommers)

Batman Begins (2005, Christopher Nolan)

Guess Who (2005, Kevin Rodney Sullivan)

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005, Mike Newell)

Just Like Heaven (2005, Mark Waters)

Pride & Prejudice (2005, Joe Wright)

Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith (2005, George Lucas)

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005, Andrew Adamson)

V for Vendetta (2005, James McTeigue)

Da Vinci Code (2006, Ron Howard)

Ice Age: The Meltdown (2006, Carlos Saldanha)

John Tucker Must Die (2006, Betty Thomas)

Mission: Impossible III (2006, J.J. Abrams)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006, Gore Verbinski)

X-Men: The Last Stand (2006, Brett Ratner)

Enchanted (2007, Kevin Lima)

National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007, Jon Turteltaub)

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007, David Yates)

Ocean's Thirteen (2007, Steven Soderbergh)

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007, Gore Verbinski)

Spider-Man 3 (2007, Sam Raimi)

Transformers (2007, Michael Bay)

27 Dresses (2008, Anne Fletcher)

Australia (2008, Baz Luhrmann)

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008, Andrew Adamson)

The Dark Knight (2008, Christopher Nolan)

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (2008, Rob Cohen)

What Happens in Vegas (2008, Tom Vaughan)

Angels & Demons (2009, Ron Howard)

Avatar (2009, James Cameron)

Bride Wars (2009, Gary Winick)

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (2009, David Yates)

Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs (2009, Carlos Saldanha)

The Proposal (2009, Anne Fletcher)

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009, Michael Bay)

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009, Gavin Hood)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 (2010, David Yates)

Inception (2010, Christopher Nolan)

Killers (2010, Robert Luketic)

Knight and Day (2010, James Mangold)

Letters to Juliet (2010, Gary Winick)

Life as We Know It (2010, Greg Berlanti)

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010, Michael Apted)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (2011, David Yates)

Johnny English Reborn (2011, Oliver Parker)

Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol (2011, Brad Bird)

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011, Rob Marshall)

Real Steel (2011, Shawn Levy)

Thor (2011, Kenneth Branagh)

X: First Class (2011, Matthew Vaughn)

Ice Age: Continental Drift (2012, Steve Martino/Mike Thurmeier)

The Dark Knight Rises (2012, Christopher Nolan)

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012, Peter Jackson)

Pacific Rim (2013, Guillermo del Toro)

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013, Peter Jackson)

Thor: The Dark World (2013, Alan Taylor)

When Calls the Heart (2013, Michael Landon Jr.)

The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies (2014, Peter Jackson)

Transcendence (2014, Wally Pfister)

X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014, Bryan Singer)

Jurassic World (2015, Colin Trevorrow)

Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015, Christopher McQuarrie)

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015, Guy Ritchie)

Ice Age: Collision Course (2016, Mike Thurmeier)

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016, David Yates)

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, Bryan Singer)

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales (2017, Joachim Rønning/ Espen Sandberg)

Thor: Ragnarok (2017, Taika Waititi)

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (2018, David Yates)

Johnny English Strikes Again (2018, David Kerr)

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018, J. A. Bayona)

Ocean's Eight (2018, Gary Ross)

Code 8 (2019, Jeff Chan)

X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019, Simon Kinberg)

Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore (2022, David Yates)

Jurassic World Dominion (2022, Colin Trevorrow)

Top Gun: Maverick (2022, Joseph Kosinski)

[meganwhalenturner]

Please never vote for any of these people again

Sorry, St Bluebell isn’t here today.  Besides how much I hate Hobby Lobby, the one potentially rage inducing issue I bring up on this site is voting.  After I have encouraged all of you to register and cast your votes, these people voted to nullify the election results in states where their candidate didn’t win.  They did so *after* the assault on the Capitol Building, after they had seen the consequences of their attempt to undermine the peaceful transfer of power in this country.

Every year our government becomes more powerful, gains more power over the daily lives of its citizens.  Its knows where you live, it knows who you talk to on the phone, it knows what library books you checked out, it knows what you had for breakfast.  The most important issue facing us today is whether we, the people, will ensure that we have a government we can trust before we lose all control of it.  Every single one of these people should be primaried by their own party and never allowed to hold any public office again.

Senate

Tommy Tuberville, Ala.

Rick Scott, Fla.

Roger Marshall, Kan.

John Kennedy, La.

Cindy Hyde-Smith, Miss.

Josh Hawley, Mo.

Ted Cruz, Texas

Cynthia Lummis, Wyo.

House

Robert B. Aderholt, Ala.

Mo Brooks, Ala.

Jerry Carl, Ala.

Barry Moore, Ala.

Gary Palmer, Ala.

Mike Rogers, Ala.

Andy Biggs, Ariz.

Paul Gosar, Ariz.

Debbie Lesko, Ariz.

David Schweikert, Ariz.

Rick Crawford, Ark.

Ken Calvert, Calif.

Mike Garcia, Calif.

Darrell Issa, Calif.

Doug LaMalfa, Calif.

Kevin McCarthy, Calif.

Devin Nunes, Calif.

Jay Obernolte, Calif.

Lauren Boebert, Colo.

Doug Lamborn, Colo.

Kat Cammack, Fla.

Mario Diaz-Balart, Fla.

Byron Donalds, Fla.

Neal Dunn, Fla.

Scott Franklin, Fla.

Matt Gaetz, Fla.

Carlos Gimenez, Fla.

Brian Mast, Fla.

Bill Posey, Fla.

John Rutherford, Fla.

Greg Steube, Fla.

Daniel Webster, Fla.

Rick Allen, Ga.

Earl L. "Buddy" Carter, Ga.

Andrew Clyde, Ga.

Marjorie Taylor Greene, Ga.

Jody Hice, Ga.

Barry Loudermilk, Ga.

Russ Fulcher, Idaho

Mike Bost, Ill.

Mary Miller, Ill.

Jim Baird, Ind.

Jim Banks, Ind.

Greg Pence, Ind.

Jackie Walorski, Ind.

Ron Estes, Kan.

Jacob LaTurner, Kan.

Tracey Mann, Kan.

Harold Rogers, Ky.

Garret Graves, La.

Clay Higgins, La.

Mike Johnson, La.

Steve Scalise, La.

Andy Harris, Md.

Jack Bergman, Mich.

Lisa McClain, Mich.

Tim Walberg, Mich.

Michelle Fischbach, Minn.

Jim Hagedorn, Minn.

Michael Guest, Miss.

Trent Kelly, Miss.

Steven Palazzo, Miss.

Sam Graves, Mo.

Vicky Hartzler, Mo.

Billy Long, Mo.

Blaine Luetkemeyer, Mo.

Jason Smith, Mo.

Matt Rosendale, Mont.

Dan Bishop, N.C.

Ted Budd, N.C.

Madison Cawthorn, N.C.

Virginia Foxx, N.C.

Richard Hudson, N.C.

Gregory F. Murphy, N.C.

David Rouzer, N.C.

Jeff Van Drew, N.J.

Yvette Herrell, N.M.

Chris Jacobs, N.Y.

Nicole Malliotakis, N.Y.

Elise M. Stefanik, N.Y.

Lee Zeldin, N.Y.

Adrian Smith, Neb.

Steve Chabot, Ohio

Warren Davidson, Ohio

Bob Gibbs, Ohio

Bill Johnson, Ohio

Jim Jordan, Ohio

Stephanie Bice, Okla.

Tom Cole, Okla.

Kevin Hern, Okla.

Frank Lucas, Okla.

Markwayne Mullin, Okla.

Cliff Bentz, Ore.

John Joyce, Pa.

Fred Keller, Pa.

Mike Kelly, Pa.

Daniel Meuser, Pa.

Scott Perry, Pa.

Guy Reschenthaler, Pa.

Lloyd Smucker, Pa.

Glenn Thompson, Pa.

Jeff Duncan, S.C.

Ralph Norman, S.C.

Tom Rice, S.C.

William Timmons, S.C.

Joe Wilson, S.C.

Tim Burchett, Tenn.

Scott DesJarlais, Tenn.

Chuck Fleischmann, Tenn.

Mark E. Green, Tenn.

Diana Harshbarger, Tenn.

David Kustoff, Tenn.

John Rose, Tenn.

Jodey Arrington, Texas

Brian Babin, Texas

Michael C. Burgess, Texas

John R. Carter, Texas

Michael Cloud, Texas

Pat Fallon, Texas

Louie Gohmert, Texas

Lance Gooden, Texas

Ronny Jackson, Texas

Troy Nehls, Texas

August Pfluger, Texas

Pete Sessions, Texas

Beth Van Duyne, Texas

Randy Weber, Texas

Roger Williams, Texas

Ron Wright, Texas

Burgess Owens, Utah

Chris Stewart, Utah

Ben Cline, Va.

Bob Good, Va.

Morgan Griffith, Va.

Robert J. Wittman, Va.

Carol Miller, W.Va.

Alexander X. Mooney, W.Va.

Scott Fitzgerald, Wis.

Tom Tiffany, Wis.

[mediocre-writerr]

now or never [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x reader

requested: hey!! I love your imagines! I was wondering if you could do a Quinn Fabray x reader where the reader is a basketball player and Quinn is cheering her on at the biggest game. Then after she wins, they go back home and celebrate. Thanks!!

*not my gif*

Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez. Nathan Scott and Haley James.

A pair of couples where one plays basketball and the other is the supportive partner. All of these couples went down in history.

But history may want to add one more name to that list: Y/N Y/L/N and Quinn Fabray.

“Are you nervous?” your girlfriend asked as she wore her Cheerios uniform that fit her perfectly. You were throwing your jersey top over your head, the girls locker room buzzing with noise and anticipation.

You let out a deep breath, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She looked up at you with a soft smile on her face and you smiled back, placing a chaste kiss to her lips, “A little yeah. I mean it’s the state championship game. McKinley High hasn’t been here since 1989, neither girls or boys. I’m the captain I feel like all of this is riding on me.”

She went on her tippy toes to kiss you, yet again. Trying her best to calm your nerves, “You’re gonna do great. You wanna know why?” you just hummed in response, “Because you are the best and the hottest basketball player I know.” she booped your nose and you scrunched it up, which caused a giggle to emit from her mouth.

“Why thank you.” you replied with a smile, kissing her forehead.

You wrapped your arms around her tighter, pulling her closer for a hug. She nestled her head into your chest, the two of you swaying back and forth for a little bit. Before you pressed a kiss to the top of her head, hooking your chin on the top of her head.

The two of you were in your own little bubble before Coach Beiste blew her whistle, “Y/L/N, let’s go! We have a game to play!”

You sighed softly, loosening your grip on your girlfriend, “You’re gonna be amazing.” she whispered, kissing you softly, “I love you.”

Placing another chaste kiss to her lips, “And I love you. I’ll see you out there.”

You rushed over towards the rest of the team and the announcer called out your names. All of your charged onto the court, your home gym bustling with excitement. You and the rest of the starters got onto the court, taking practice shots. Each one of them landing with ease.

The whistled blew indicating the start of the game. You got into your position at point guard while the centers were in the middle of the court ready to jump for the ball.

Your eyes caught onto your beautiful blonde girlfriend who was just staring at you with a proud smile. You kissed the tips of your fingers before pretending to shoot a basketball straight towards her. It was something the two of you picked up as a good luck charm before each quarter of the game.

The ball was thrown into the air and your center hit the ball towards you. You grabbed the ball dribbling it down the court, passing it to your power forward who was open by the net. She shot it up making an easy lay up giving your team the first points of the game.

“And Marshall with the layup with an amazing assist from starting point guard Y/L/N!” the announcer exclaimed as you were running down the court.

The first quarter was a blood bath for the other team. Great defense, but everything slowly started to fell apart by the second quarter. Mistaken fouls, bad defense, no shots were going in for any of us.

You were dribbling down court and once you found one of your teammates open you passed it to them. As you ran your route to get closer to the basket, the other team tipped it out of bounds. But desperate to save the ball you dove with your hand out to try and hit it towards the in-bounds.

But it didn’t matter anyway because the whistle blew and the half was over.

“And that concludes the first half of our state championship game everyone. With the Carmel High School leading over McKinley High 47-26.” all of you stumbled off the court and back into the locker rooms.

You headed straight towards your locker, getting the Ace bandage tape that you use on all of your finger jams. You wrapped it around your middle and ring finger, letting out a disappointed sigh when Coach Beiste came in. The morale in the room slowly drifting away, it felt like our varsity football team’s locker room. Minus all of the toxic masculinity.

“Alright girls listen up! You need to get the pressure off of yourselves! No one in this room is gonna make any plays or shots if you keep getting down on yourselves. You need to get the morale up! We don’t have much time, but I believe in all of you! You just need to believe in yourselves.” she preached and all of you let out a sigh before nodding, “Y/L/N, you have the floor.”

You threw your tape back into your locker before facing the rest of the girls, “Coach is right. We’re not gonna win this if we don’t get off of ourselves. Win or lose, at least we can say we played the very best that we possibly can. But until the final horn blows, we fight until the very end. As Troy Bolton once said, it’s now or never!”

Everyone cheered and you could feel the morale boost back up. All of the girls seemed to be more loose than before. And you could see your girlfriend standing by the entrance of the locker room.

“Now hydrate up! Do what you need to do and lets go back out there and fight!” you yelled and everyone dispersed from the circle.

You snuck over to the entrance of the locker room and you wrapped your arms back around her. Kissing her forehead softly.

“You okay?” she asked softly and you nodded, “That was a nice speech, I think the girls needed to hear that. But did that calm your own nerves?”

“I don’t know. It’s nice to see everyone all loose again, but I just keep thinking that I’m going to blow it.” you admitted and she smiled at you sadly.

She cupped both of your cheeks and pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. When the two of you pulled apart, she smiled at you with a proud smile on her face, “Win or lose, you’re still gonna be the champion of my heart. You can do this, I believe in you.”

You chuckled softly, “That was cheesy.”

“I know, but you loved it.”

You saw the time and noticed halftime was about to end. You pressed one last kiss to Quinn’s lips before pulling away, “I love you.” you mumbled.

“I love you.” she whispered back, kissing your cheek.

You and your team ran back onto the court. And you saw Quinn sneak back onto the court where the Cheerios were. The crowd was buzzing yet again as the bleachers were full of people from both sides. In the middle rows you could see the glee club sitting there cheering you on. Even Kurt and Rachel came to support.

You got back into positions waiting for the tip off. You kissed the tips of your fingers once again before shooting it towards Quinn. She smiled softly, catching your flying kiss and placing it on her heart. She mouthed the words: ‘I love you’ and an instant smile broke out onto your face, mouthing the words back.

The whistle blew and everything took off. Your teammate passed you the ball and you found yourself open in three point range. So you shot the ball letting it fly and went in with ease.

“There ya go Y/N!” Coach Beiste yelled from the sidelines, your teammate giving you a high five.

The whole energy was different. Everyone seemed to believe in themselves more than before. And before you know it, you were down to the final quarter with two points down and three points to win the game. But you were double-teamed, there’s no way that you’d be able to get a shot off.

“What are we gonna do Coach?” you asked, “I can’t get a shot off.”

“All we can do is try to find an opening. Keep fighting girls we got this!”

All of your broke the huddle and your teammate on the sideline passed you the ball. The rest of your teammates passed the ball around until the clock started to wind down. There was an opening to make a shot for two but you needed three. If you get fouled though, this could work. Let’s just hope and pray.

You took the shot, the ball falling into the net with ease. And you felt your whole body get pushed onto the floor, you could feel the court marks burning onto your skin already. You laid on the ground for a while praying for the foul whistle to blow. For a moment you didn’t think it was coming, until it finally did.

“And there’s Y/N Y/L/N with the and one!! If she makes this free throw right here, McKinley High could finally win a state championship since 1989!” the announcer exclaimed.

Your teammates reached out there hands, lifting you up. They patted your back softly as all of them got into formation. Your hands shaking slightly at how nervous you were getting. You looked into the stands to see your parents jumping up and down in anticipation, the glee kids biting their nails and refusing to watch, and all of the other families that you could possibly disappoint right now.

Until your eyes finally landed on Quinn. She smiled at you softly, gesturing for you to take a breath. You followed her breathing, but it still wasn’t enough to calm your nerves. She laid her pom poms down onto the floor, kissing the tip of your fingers. And shooting her kiss towards you, as you broke into a smile. The kiss easing your tension, you caught it placing it on your heart. She gave you a subtle nod and you returned it before getting back onto the court.

You dribbled the ball a couple times at the free throw line. The crowd deathly silent, this could make or break the game. You let out a sigh before shooting the ball up in the air, watching in anticipation.

And it landed with a satisfying swish.

The girls ran out towards you, yelling in your ear. You jumped up and down. Our side of the gym going absolutely insane. Our six foot, six inch center raised you up on her shoulders. Coach Beiste handed you the state championship trophy and you raised it above your head. The cheering growing even louder at your action.

Your eyes caught onto Quinn’s who had a proud smile on her face, “Hey can you put me down?” you whispered to your center and she nodded.

You landed onto the court floor, rushing towards your girlfriend. A lot of people giving your high fives and saying ‘good job’ on the way there. After swimming through the crowd for how long you finally made it to her. You wrapped your arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her around.

When you finally put her back down, you crashed your lips onto hers. You placed your hand on the back of her head, pulling her closer than you thought imaginable.

“I’m so proud of you.” she mumbled as the need to breathe became more evident.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

When the crowd finally disappeared, you found yourself back in the locker room, showering up and getting dressed. You found your parents, the glee kids, and Quinn standing outside the locker room waiting for you. All of you giving them a celebratory hug.

You and Quinn intertwined your fingers together, walking towards the front door, “Meet you guys at my house!” you yelled towards the rest of your friends.

You opened Quinn’s door for her, letting her sink into your passenger seat, “Are you sure you don’t want to go out and celebrate with the rest of your team?”

“I’m sure. I’d rather spend it with you and our friends than some big party.” you admitted and she smiled at you softly, pressing one kiss to her lips.

When you reached to the house you heard the loud music bouncing into the front yard. You smiled at the sight of your best friends dancing around in your living room. And you could smell the burgers your dad was grilling in the back.

“There she is, the champion of the hour!” Sam yelled as you entered the house.

You rolled your eyes before giving all of them a hug again. All of you laughing and smiling throughout most of the night. Rachel and Blaine set up the karaoke machine that Rachel got you for Christmas.

Everyone taking turns singing and laughing at how cheesy this was. You squeezed Quinn’s hand gesturing for her to follow you. You led her to your backyard where the pool was, placing your feet onto the edge. Letting the cool water lap over your feet. She followed your suit, resting her head on her shoulder.

Her hair was no longer in a high pony. Her blonde locks finally falling off her shoulders. You intertwined her fingers with yours, resting your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you.” you said to her.

“For what?” she asked.

“Always being there for me. Being my number one supporter. I couldn’t have done this if it wasn’t for you.” you confessed and she smiled.

“I’m always gonna be here.” she whispered back and you smiled proudly at her, kissing her softly.

Until you felt yourself being pushed into the pool. You could still feel Quinn’s hand intertwined with yours, so you know it wasn’t her. You resurfaced in the water and saw Finn and Puck standing there, giving each other a high five. But little did they know Mike and Sam were right behind them.

Everyone broke out into a pool fight, throwing each other in and messing around in the pool. Quinn wrapped her arms around you and you placed a kiss to the top of her head, watching the scene unfold in front of you.

[disneydude94]

Animorphia - Fan Cast

I thought by I could make some fan cast if I can hear any voice actors or actress for my fan story. That's all I could think of any fan casts. Let me know when you ask me.

Kevin Schon - Timon

Ernie Sabella - Pumbaa

Haley Tju - Marcy Wu/Darcy Wu

Maliah Bargas-Good - Young Marcy

Ryan Potter - Eddie Wu

Tara Strong - Young Eddie

Tress MacNeille - Princess Tatiana

Brenda Song - Anne Boonchuy

Kai Zen - Young Anne

Justin Felbinger - Sprig Plantar

Amanda Leighton - Polly Plantar

Bill Farmer - Hopadiah Plantar

Anna Akana - Sasha Waybright

Madeleine McGraw - Young Sasha

Zendaya - Bailey Padilla

Delaney Rose Stein - Young Bailey

Matthew Bradock - Simba

Neve Campbell - Nala

Khary Peyton - Rafiki

Jeff Bennett - Zazu

Julie Kavner - Timon's Mother

J.K. Simmons - Uncle Max

On Braly - Mrs. Boonchuy

Brian Sounalath - Mr. Boonchuy

Keith David - King Andrias

Troy Baker - Captain Grime

Michelle Dockery - Lady Olivia

Zehra Fazal - General Yunnan

Katie Michelle Crown - Ivy Sundew

Jill Bartlett - Maddie Flour

James Patrick Stuart - One-Eyed Wally

Stephen Root - Mayor Toadstool

Laila Berzins - Sadie Croaker

Brian Maillard - Leopold Loggle

Marlow Barkley - Rosemary Flour

Mia Allan - Lavender Flour

Ella Allan - Ginger Flour

Mona Marshall - Sylvia Sundew

Sean Giambrone - Ethan Day

Cassie Glow - Molly Jo

Brad Garrett - Robert Otto

Melissa Villaseñor - Ally

Dana Davis - Jess

Anika Noni Rose - Dr. Jan

RuPaul Charles - Mr. X

Kate Micucci as Terri

Cree Summers - Dr. Frakes

Taglist: @ilovetvtoons @1cartooncoven @kevintoons915 @marcanne-lover @crazydisneynerd123 @multifandoms13

[oldfadcdhq]

anonymous asked: mw?

if you want a most wanted from a few or a specific fandom ask, here are just a generalized one. it’s a long list so i put it under read more.. also bolded might be characters i really want.

lex luthor, barry allen, eobard thawne, oliver queen, wally west, cisco ramon, julian dorn, harrison wells, eddie thawn, joe west, tommy merlyn, john diggle, roy harper, curtis holt, adrian chase, emiko queen, ricardo diaz, william clayton, beth chapel, lois lane, selina kyle, nora west-allen, lucy quinzel, donna troy, dinah lance, courtney whitmore, connor hawke, pat dugan, alex danvers, jennifer pierce, anissa pierce, iris west, mia smoak, rick tyler, starman, mike dugan, henry king jr, cameron mahkent, mon-el, winn schott, jimmy olsen, maxwell lord, kara danvers, j'onn j'onzz, khalil payne, jefferson pierce, aly, freddie, aubrey, lonnie, jane, mal, evie, audrey, doug, gil, harry hook, zevon, jay, gaston jr, gaston the third, jafar, hans, kristoff, prince eric, prince phillip, ron stoppable, mickey mouse, maui, john darling, michael darling, jack skelenton, mulan, elsa, anna, tiana, oogie boogie, prince florian, jack-jack parr, dash parr, the bloody baron, hugo weasley, peter pettigrew, lucius malfoy, horace slughorn, mad eye moody, barty crouch jr, barty crouch senior, george weasley, percy weasley, amycus carrow, albus dumbledore, aberforth dumbledore, credence barebone, antonin dolohov, augustus rookwood, avery, carban yaxley, gregory goylve, vincent crabbe, cormac mclaggen, tina goldstein, hermione granger, dorcas meadowes, mary mcdonald, marlene mckinnon, roxanne weasley, luna lovegood, leta lestrange, queenie goldstein, hulk, wolverine, loki, black panther, clint barton, groot, cable, nick fury, magneto, luke cage, iceman, carol danvers,  valkyrie, wanda maximoff, pepper potts, morgan stark, mary jane watson, kitty pride, jubilee, jessica jones, jean gray, peggy carter, lady sif, gamora professor x, stefan salvatore, klaus mikaelson, enzo, elijah mikaelson, jeremy gilbert, john gilbert, alaric saltzman, tyler lockwood, matt donovan, kol mikaelson, marcel gerard, jackson kenner, vincent griffith,  josie saltzman, lizzie saltzman, alyssa chang, jade, hayley marshall, davina claire, freya mikaelson, esther mikaelson, vicki donovan, caroline forbes, elena gilbert, bonnie bennett, josh rosza, declan, roman, tristan de martel, milton greasley, ryan clarke, jed, kaleb, rafael waithe, grover underwood, luke castellan, tyson,  piper mclean, zoe nightshade,  hazel levensque, reyna ramirez arellano, ethan nakamura, poseidon, hades, zeus, hephaestus, ares, will solace, frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, octavian,  renesmee cullen, bella swan, alice cullen, leah, sulpicia, jane, victoria, carlisle cullen, archie cullen, emmett cullen, earnest cullen, royal hale, caius, aro, alec, demetri, felix, afton, garrett, benjamin, mr. gold, peter pan, cora, snow white, regina mills, lucy mills, henry mills, baelfire, robin hood, david nolen, jefferson, august booth, vuctir frankenstein, archie hopper, graham humbert, isabelle lightwood, clary fairchild, jocelyn fairchild, celine herondale, maia roberts jace hernodale, simon lewis, valentine morgenstern, jordan kyle, lucian graymark, raphael santiago, lorenzo rey, meliorn, jonathan morgenstern, bow, sea hawk, yoda, mando, leia organa, padme amidala, finn, poe dameron, ben solo, anakin solo, jacen solo, luke skywalker, rose tico, qi’re obi-wan kenobi, chewbacca, rey’s mother, rey’s father, han solo, darth maul, boba fett, count dooku, qui-gon jinn, jango fett, lando calrissian, sky, bloom, stella, flora, musa, techna, aisha, brandon, timmy, riven, helia, nabu, roy, prince thoren, & nex.  

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - Oct 29 - Nov 4, 2023

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA 🎃 = Halloween

BLADES OF LIGHT & SHADOW

BLOODBOUND

Kamilah Sayeed Fanart 🎨by @myautumnrose

Lily Spencer Fanart 🎨 by @sazanes

CRIMES OF PASSION

Crimes Drabble ✒️ 🏳️‍🌈| Trystan Thorne x MC - @lilyoffandoms

Marguerite's Halloween Bacchanalia, Part 1 | Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @moominofthevalley ✒️🎃

Marguerite's Halloween Bacchanalia, Part 2 | Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @moominofthevalley ✒️🎃

FIRST COMES LOVE

Blake Marshall x MC Fanart 🎨by @mydemonsdrivealimo for @totojo2

IMMORTAL DESIRES

When the Dark Comes, Leave a Light ✒️🏳️‍🌈| m! cas x m!gabe - @aria-ashryver

NIGHTBOUND

Duty & Pleasure ✒️| Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Birthday ✒️🎨 | Drake Walker x MC art by @rosefuckinggeniusfic by @petiteboheme

Trick or Treat ✒️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @kristinamae093

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 19: As Long As There's You At My Side

WAKE THE DEAD

Survival of the Fittest 🎨| Brynn, f!mc / Brynn, m!mc @fairymatchmaker

Troy Hassan x Saeed🎨🏳️‍🌈by @/artbyainna (C: @lilyoffandoms)

*** Please note: Since we were on vacation last week, these fics/creations will be reblogged on CFWC between now and Friday, November 10th.