#Freya 'Mini' MacTavish
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Yankee 7 and his Lastochka - by @wombywoo
My original character, Freya ' Mini ' MacTavish and Nikolai from Call of Duty.
Thank you again for the lovely art! I am amazed again and again by your excellent skill and Oh.. words can't express how much I love it 🥺🥺
#reader interpretation#call of duty#call of duty nikolai#cod nikolai#mini mactavish#Freya 'Mini' MacTavish#original character#commission art#call of duty fanart#wombywoo
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girl gang 😎 left this in my drafts and completely forgot to post it lol oops
from left to right: olga 'zhar' samoilova (@nrdmssgs), christine 'riot' vega (@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot), ryan 'orca' murdoch, mylène 'petra' scholten de ridder (@siilvan), and freya 'mini' mactavish (@sofasoap)!!!!
#ryan 'orca' murdoch#christine riot vega#mylene 'petra'#mylène 'petra' scholten de ridder#freya 'mini' mactavish#olga 'zhar' samoilova#oc: orca#cod oc#cod oc art#call of duty oc#mw2 oc#modern warfare 2 oc#i love to draw other people's ocs
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Thank you for tagging me !!
Freya "Mini" MacTavish
No pressure tag:
@gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot @nrdmssgs @siilvan @savlina @roosterr
Link: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/137904
Picrew Game
Thanks for the tags from my dears!: @welldonekhushi @islandtarochips @cloudofbutterflies92 @pricescigar @mctvsh @littlemissclandestine and @justasmolbard 💕
—
From left to right:
Aly and Captain Price (CoD Modern Warfare)
Aleks and Russell Adler (CoD Cold War)
—
Now I tag: @sleepyconfusedpotato @revnah1406 @kaitaiga @applbottmjeens @caelums-fate @mutantthedark @adlersoldspice @onehornedbeast @sofasoap @efingart and whoever would like to join! 💕
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On the floor: Freya 'Mini' MacTavish ( @sofasoap ), Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, Mylène 'Petra' Scholten de Ridder ( @eenochian )
Standing and sitting: Christine 'Riot' Vega, Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova ( @nrdmssgs ), Nikolai, Gabriella 'Gabi' Cruz, Kate Laswell, Heather Price, John Price, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Diego Rojas
Today marks a year since I posted the first chapter of my fanfic, Fortes Soli Fortiores Una
In this year, not only I re-discovered my love for writing, storytelling, character creation and creative streak, but I also found good people that I am honoured to call friends
There's a lot of you I would like to thank individually, but I am afraid I'd choke up before I finish. You all know who you are.
To the people that started reading, and are still here, waiting patiently for me to post, THANK YOU
To the people that started reading, left it, and maybe came back, THANK YOU
To the people that hit Like or Kudos, to the people that reblog, to the people that comment, THANK YOU
To the ones that read but say nothing, out of shyness or whatever, THANK YOU
To the ones that read it and decided it wasn't for them, THANK YOU
To the ones that don't read the fic but like the shitty renders I make around my stupid little AU, THANK YOU
And thank you, my dear, poor Riot, because if it wasn't for you, this wouldn't be possible.
#spread love#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#cod oc#cod original character#call of duty original character#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfiction#christine riot vega#simon ghost riley#kyle gaz garrick#johnny soap mactavish#captain price cod#dr. heather price#gabriella gabi cruz#mylène “petra” scholten de ridder#olga zhar samoilova#freya mini mactavish#diego rojas#kate laswell#cod nikolai#cod riot#cod ghost#cod price#cod gaz#cod soap#task force 141
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Desideria – I
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Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder
Summary: Second meetings and first chances.
Genre: General, light angst, light fluff, fem!oc
Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, references to canon-typical violence, not much going on this time tbh
Word Count: 3k
Note: I got halfway through the next chapter of Bloodsport and rewarded myself with more self indulgent oc stuff... Bit of a shorter chapter than I wanted, but oh well (●'◡'●)
As always, very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot for their endless encouragement and support <3
"Lively group we've got here." Mylène comments, her narrowed gaze slowly dragging over the other people in the room.
Gathered were the remnants of the one-four-one. All but the pair of bright-eyed, effervescent siblings currently lying in hospital beds. Everything feels darker, somehow, like the sun had been eclipsed at its peak. The thought weighs heavily on those who remain, the silence at first only being broken by the sounds of fabric shuffling as people shifted their weight and the occasional quiet grunt or cough.
"You're lookin' lively yourself, Lt." Kyle is the second one to speak up, his eyes meeting hers from his spot leaned against the wall.
The hospital was charitable enough – or, more likely, Laswell had pulled some strings to 'convince' the staff – to leave a private meeting room empty for the group to gather.
"Okay, we're not going to get anywhere if we don't address the elephant in the room." Laswell interrupts the awkward banter with a low exhale. She's stood at the front of the room with her arms crossed tight over her chest, the tension in her muscles readily apparent to the other woman. "We're not in a good position right now. We're two down, out of leads, and out of intel on Makarov's next moves."
"Very hopeful start, Laswell. You should try being a motivational speaker." Kyle snorts, silently surrendering when her hard stare directs itself at him.
"Kyle." Price's unimpressed and, frankly, exhausted voice lightly scolds the sergeant. Kyle was the most bubbly one in the room, especially given how his only competition was Laswell, Price, Simon, and Mylène – all of whom look to be on the verge of snapping for different, yet related, reasons.
"Do we have anything at all to work with, Kate?" The captain shifts his attention back to the liaison; one of their only allies at the moment.
She takes her time before answering. Her ocean blue eyes are trained on the large, wooden, oval-shaped table in the center of the space, still in pristine condition due to none of them even daring to touch it. "Minimal resources." She starts, pausing to wet her lips. "As you all know by now, we're splitting up to utilize what little we have."
"John, Kyle, you're linking up with Farah's forces to try and gain some intel from within Urzikstan's borders. Ghost, you and Riot are heading to Mexico to follow up on a lead from Colonel Vargas." Laswell continues, taking another pause to meet the remaining lieutenant's mismatched eyes. "You've got a special assignment, Petra."
"So I've heard." Mylène huffs, her tone dry as her arms lift to cross over her chest.
"One of the few leads we have at the moment is on a smuggler – chemical weapons." Laswell states.
"Connected to the agents Konni Group's been drooling over since General Barkov was taken care of?" Mylène's eyebrows knit together, trying to recall any names of known smugglers. A few come to mind, none of which were reliable or still functional, but she mentally files them away nonetheless.
"Exactly that." Laswell nods, sliding a flash drive across the table, right into the other woman's waiting hand. "We don't have a name, just locations of the trades we've been able to confirm. The contact I got this from has already agreed to help with every step of the investigation."
Mylène turns over the USB stick in her hand, eyeing it curiously. "The contact, is it Colonel Volkov again?" She asks, turning to Laswell once more as she safely tucks the flash drive away.
"How'd you guess?"
"Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug." She echoed his prior words, the ones he spoke to the two women back in Arklov Base. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
The older woman lets out something of a chuckle and cracks a smile for the first time since she arrived. "Nikolai agreed to provide transport, at least for linking you up with Yuri. He'll be picking you up in about three hours."
"Three hours— why do none of you give me more time to prepare?" Mylène shoots a pointed look towards Laswell and Simon specifically and turns to walk out, but stops dead in her tracks before she can even take a single step towards the door.
"Someone should be staying with Johnny and Freya. They're still targets, even here." She says, sending the group a wary glance.
Riot was hovering over the siblings' bedsides at the moment, hence why she was missing the meeting, but she'll be leaving with Simon before the end of the day. They'll be left alone. Someone needs to stay with the two, just in case.
"We've already got that covered."
Mylène quirks a brow at Laswell's assured statement, until she hears the door behind her open and close with a soft click.
A tall, broad figure is standing in front of it, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a black hoodie with the hood lowered, showing off a head of messy dark brown curls. A set of forest green eyes stare back at her, the rich color standing out against the dark circles under his eyes and the long, jagged scar running down the left side of his face. It starts just above his eyebrow and disappears into the black surgical mask he's wearing, giving some air of mystery despite her knowing exactly what exists underneath.
Emiel Scholten de Ridder. Nightfall.
To others, he may be an imposing character, but to Mylène, he's just her little brother. Well, little in age.
"Finally staying in one place for more than a few days?" She draws him into a tight hug with a gleeful smile on her lips.
"Seems like it." He chuckles into her hair, returning the hug for a few seconds. "She decided to pull me off my last assignment and station me here to keep an eye on things."
"I wanted the best on the job." Laswell clarifies, earning a confident nod from the younger woman. "Nightfall will stay in the hospital as long as Soap and Mini are here. They'll be safe." She adds and meets Mylène's gaze once more.
"If there are no more questions, then I'll let you get prepared."
"None at all, Watcher."
⋆⋆⋆
The heavy blades of the helicopter are a welcomed sight, whipping up a light breeze that blows the loose strands of hair framing Petra's back as the vehicle descends.
She wastes no time in approaching it and sliding the side door back, stepping up into the cabin. The door shuts behind her with another heavy thud, leaving her standing in a UH-60 Black Hawk so familiar that she might as well call it her second home.
"Good to see you in one piece, Mila!" Nikolai calls out over his shoulder. Petra turns to flash him a smile, carefully setting her backpack against a wall before coming up to the cockpit.
"Thought Makarov took me out of commission, too?" She hums, calmly settling in the co-pilot's seat next to his.
"You? Of course not." He laughs, hearty and full of life. It was refreshing after spending so much time in the hospital. "I am just happy to see you doing well, my friend." He adds once the laughter dies down, the helicopter taking off just as quickly as it had landed.
Petra shifts in her seat in anticipation for the longer flight. "I'm assuming we're not meeting Colonel Volkov at Arklov Base again?" She asks with a soft laugh of her own.
"Unless you are willing to brave sarin gas, then, no." Nikolai comments. "He's in Zaporizhzhia."
"Zaporizhzhia?"
"Melitopol, to be exact." He clarifies, intentionally slowing his speech and harshly pronouncing each syllable with a cheeky grin.
"Fucks sake, I know what it is." She huffs, ignoring his amused snort as she shakes her head. "What's he doing in southern Ukraine?"
"Waiting for us, probably." He shrugs with the sarcastic response. "Did Laswell send you in with any information on this op?"
"Yeah, actually, thanks for the reminder." Petra jumps up from her seat and shuffles over to her bag, unzipping it and pulling a tablet out. She plops down in her seat again after a moment, scrolling through the pages of intel that she transferred from the flash drive that Laswell gave her before she left.
Like she said before, it was mostly locations of confirmed trades between the yet-unnamed smuggler and Konni Group. There was an attempt at pinpointing his home base, but the locations were too scattered all over the map to centralize them. Unsurprisingly, a decent amount of the trades happened in Eastern Europe – they already knew it was Konni Group's playground, though, so it gave her nothing about the smuggler himself.
"Maybe he knows something that we don't." Petra mumbles, half to herself and half to the pilot. "The next deal could be happening in Ukraine." She adds.
"Suppose we won't know until we talk with him." Nikolai comments, earning an affirmative hum from her. A second passes before he speaks again. "When was the last time you slept?"
She blinks, her gaze flitting up from the screen and landing on him. "What?"
"Sleep? The thing most people do at night?" He explains, completely ignoring the way she rolls her eyes as soon as he starts. "When you close your eyes and dream of handsome pilots who always come through to help you in your times of need?"
"Having romantic dreams about yourself again, Nik?" She quirks a brow at him. "And, I'm fine. I slept—"
She cuts herself off, her lashes fluttering as she blinks a few more times. Her eyes drop to the tablet sitting on her thighs, unfocused on the screen as it slowly darkens before shutting itself off.
"...Some time recently." She mutters after a few seconds.
"We'll be up here for a while, you will have plenty of time to agonize over those files after we land. Get some rest while you still can, Mila." His voice softens, the previous humor in it dissipating and making room for a genuine concern that she only heard in certain moments.
Still, she argues. There was just too much for her to do. "But, I—"
"My bird, my rules. Get some rest." Nikolai replies without missing a beat. He doesn't even look at her while giving the command, nonchalantly glancing over a few gauges and dials like it was natural for him. Well, it was probably as natural as breathing at this point.
With a sigh comparable to that of a child getting sent to bed, she concedes. "Fine, just wake me up before we land." Petra shifts and gets into a more comfortable position, the tablet forgotten on the panel as she semi-awkwardly curls up and eventually finds a way to drift off into a light sleep.
⋆⋆⋆
The telltale sound of the helicopter descending is what wakes her up, eventually. Petra rubs the sleep out of her eyes before it touches down and hurries to grab the tablet, maneuvering back to her backpack and shoving it inside.
"Melitopol, safe and sound." Nikolai announces, stepping out of the cockpit after shutting everything down.
"Didn't doubt you for even a second." She slips her backpack on with a slow exhale and follows the pilot out onto the tarmac.
The sun was starting to crest over the horizon, spilling a healthy balance of oranges, reds, yellows, and pink hues all over the sky above. The location they had landed at was some sort of base – not necessarily military, judging by the lack of a uniform… well, uniform, amongst the few people gracing the small airfield. Mercenaries, she assumes.
"So, where are we meeting him?" She asks, carefully examining her surroundings.
"Right here, if that works for you."
Petra turns when she hears the familiar voice, gravelly and rich, and sees the man himself approaching them.
"Colonel Volkov, always good to see a friendly face." She greets him, stepping forward to meet him and holding out her hand.
"Please, there is no need for formalities." He chuckles, shaking her hand far more gently than she was used to. "Just call me Yuri."
"Yuri. That works for me." A bright smile flashes across her face as his name leaves her lips.
It's right then and there that something in the back of the colonel's mind changes, begging him to only have his name spoken that way from now on. Spoken by her. He tries to ignore that feeling, especially as the other Russian in the group catches his attention.
"Yuri, my brother." Nikolai shares his own cheerful greeting with the man, one that’s eagerly reciprocated as the two hug briefly.
"It's been too long, my friend." Yuri comments, patting his shoulder one last time as the two part.
"You two have known each other for a long time?" Petra quirks a brow at the pair as Yuri starts to lead them to a car nearby. He fishes a set of keys out of his pocket – he’s in civvies, she realizes. Dark jeans and a navy blue windbreaker, with the collar of a simple black shirt peeking out from underneath – and tosses them to Nikolai.
"Something like that." Nikolai slides into the driver’s seat after catching the keys. The other two circle around to the passengers’ side, where Petra reaches out to open the door for herself. Yuri beats her to it, though, and he holds the door open while she slips into the backseat. He sits in the front, leaving her to lean forward and poke her head between the two men.
"So, where are we heading from here?" She chirps, realizing but refusing to admit just how much that short nap on the helicopter helped her. For the first time in weeks, she feels like she has some energy.
"South, past the border." Yuri replies, his low voice rumbling right next to her ear.
Wait, what? "The border? We're heading into Crimea?"
"I am assuming Laswell gave you the information I delivered to her." He continues, turning his head just enough to meet her confused gaze. "The smuggler working with Konni Group isn't the one we are going after, since he hardly shows his face for these trades, but the man who facilitates most of the deals should be here for an upcoming one."
She hums. "When is it?"
The car pulls onto a road after leaving the base, quiet and mostly vacant of any other vehicles as the light of the sun slowly begins to fade from the sky. Moving in the dark. It's smart. Petra had already sat back in her seat before reaching into her bag, lazily dropped next to her. She fishes her tablet out, deciding to give the information a thorough scan, unlike her cursory glance in the helicopter.
"Two days from now. Not sure what time." Yuri mutters. "I have my own contact coming into town tomorrow to assist. FSB."
"FSB? Are you sure they can be trusted with this?" She huffs, raising her brows again as she looks at the side of his face.
He makes a small sound, akin to a curt chuckle. "Trust me, he is reliable. He's bringing information on our broker and claims to hate him just as much as we do."
"Do we even have a name for our target? Laswell couldn't give me one." She blinks, racking her brain again for any known smugglers.
He shrugs, the quiet rustling of fabric his only answer for a brief moment. "We will tomorrow."
Petra accepts his response with a nod and a muted sigh. The drive to the border would be at least another few hours, and she was sure that crossing it would end up being some elaborate scheme to avoid detection by the border patrol. In any case, she buries her nose in file after file while Nikolai chats the other Russian's ear off.
At one point during the drive, already over an hour in, the pilot was spinning some recent tale about his nebo that she halfway tunes in for. Her eyes flit up after he says something about her "kicking his ass" and, after a low snort that she denies when he points it out, her gaze drifts to the rear-view mirror. Curiosity, the instinct to check the road behind them without making a scene, some random desire to look at herself – she isn't sure what motivates her to do it, but when she meets a pair of steel blue irides in the reflection, she freezes.
Yuri, in his silence only broken by muttered "oh's," "ah's," and quiet hums whenever Nikolai badgered him enough for a response, was eyeing her in the mirror.
And, here she was, meeting his gaze and staring back just the same. They already had a moment like this once before: at Arklov Base, before the missiles hit and disrupted the meeting Laswell had stolen her away from her team for. There was some kind of energy, a spark, even, that seemed to keep drawing their attentions back to each other, even with a woman discussing a potential world war brewing or a man actively attempting to steal the show right next to them.
She would deny the faint shiver creeping down her spine, just as he would deny the subtle electricity beneath his skin forcing him to flex his hands. They break eye contact at the same time, with his moving to the road ahead as hers drops down to her screen once more.
There is one thing Petra can tell already, as she quietly raps her fingers against her thigh and attempts to distract her mind. This mission is going to be more trouble than it's worth.
Vrag moyego vraga - moi drug. (Враг моего врага - мой друг.) - The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Mila - Slavic diminutive of Mylène
Nebo (Небо) - Sky
#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#mw2#cod mwii#cod mw3#mw3#cod mwiii#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod original character#cod oc#cod ocs#cod yuri#yuri volkov#yuri volkov x oc#petrayuri#mylène “petra” scholten de ridder#freya “mini” mactavish#emiel “nightfall” scholten de ridder#sylph.writes
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Ok, I made a thing.
This is Zhar, the baby is Anya. Anya is the daughter of Nikolai and Freya 'Mini' Mactavish. Mini belongs to @sofasoap
This is not some kind of creepy 'twilight' thing, I swear. This is my girl finding her big platonic love in an AU where she doesn't end up with Nikolai.
And a little story to this picture.
“That flight attendant checked you out. Once again!” Freyas brain begged her to shut up. However, MacTavishes blood kept boiling, encouraging her to go on and try to distract the notorious Chimeras Lieutenant.
In fact Mini was scared. She was afraid of Olga back in the days of her service with Price and that fear only grew when Olga left 141 and Lt Zhar was born. Poorly hiding his pride, Nikolai told her, how that woman didn’t shed a single tear the morning, she woke up with a half-burnt body. Hiring her was obviously the move that boosted his already huge ego. But Mini didn’t trust people, who seemed to have no soft corners.
And Zhar was all teeth and claws.
Mini didn’t like her husband’s initial idea to send Olga bodyguarding her. It felt easier for her to walk down the street alongside Krueger – he at least would express any emotion besides cold concentration. But Mini couldn’t argue, when Nik pointed out, that Olga draws not that much attention than a huge loud guy, threatening everyone around just with his posture. Besides, Zhar had this natural feeling of a crowd: she read surrounding movements and moods as if she read other peoples minds. And this was critical for where Mini went.
The good news were, that everything went so smoothly – Freya could as well spend all this time alone. No threats, no nothing. The bad news was the MacTavish blood, that begged Mini to stir her bodyguard up. She craved a human interaction that went at least a bit beyond “wait here”, “please let me do the talking”, “if you need me – I am right behind your door”. She wanted bubbly flustered girly gossips for god’s sake!
Sadly, she had to deal with Olga, who refused to play any social games.
“Hes no threat, Mini, don’t worry.”
“No! I mean, he checked you out! Like a hot thing you are.”
Zhars fingers froze for a moment hovering over her laptop keyboard. Freya smiled in anticipation, but her bodyguard just nodded to herself and went back to typing, as if she just needed a minute to find the most suitable wording for her email.
“Oh, c’mon, really? You wont even glance at him?”
“Blonde hair, blue eyes, persistent misuse of a cheap cologne, ‘Oliver’ badge and a widest smile on this plane.” Olga finally looked away from her screen. “Mini, love, if you are trying to test me – yes, I do memorize people surrounding you.”
“No-o-o-o.” Mini almost mewled. “This wasn’t any test, I just wanted to gossip, or to have a little laugh, or just to chat. You know, like the real people usually do?”
Zhar sighed and closed her laptop.
“Ok, show me her.”
“Again? Olya, we watched Anyas photos just before the flight. You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my daughter this hard. We can talk about any other thing!” Mini had to dig her fingers into her own forearm to force herself to continue speaking without blushing from fear and embarrassment.
Zhar insisted on watching Anyas photos yet again. As Freya was showing her the same pictures, they looked at just an hour ago, she noticed how her bodyguards face softened.
“You should think about having a baby too. It's fun, you know-“ Minis mind wasn’t following her own tongue fast enough. By the time, she cut herself out – it was too late.
“You’re MacTavish, and MacTavish knows no fear,” rang her mother’s voice in her head as she slowly turned to face Olga.
Mini tried to joke herself out of this uncomfortable situation, tell something about ‘obviously meeting the right man or woman, going on a pair of dates, and getting to the baby question only after that, but Zhar ended her suffering.
“Mini, there won’t be anyone for me.”
“Wha-?”
“There is nobody for me.” Olga repeated. “I break several laws all around the world on a daily basis, I have not been with anyone from the start of my service in the TF, my back looks like a well-done steak, my head costs a shit ton of money on an underworld market. At this point, there is nobody out there.”
“That’s…” Mini didn`t want to point the obvious out, so she bit her tongue and didn’t say ‘sad’.
“That is a choice. And I’m ok with that. I let go of all that stuff, you know?” Zhar smiled awkwardly. “Will they, won’t they… and then they finally are. And they tell each other ‘you are the love of my life, you’re the most important person on earth, your happiness is from now on my only mission, your smile is my reason to go on’. And the church bells ring and someone’s auntie is crying ugly on the last row… I just let it all go. And my life didn’t become miserable. If anything – it became easier to breathe.”
Freya suddenly felt guilty. She knew, that by the time their plane will touch the ground – Nik would already be in the airport. Waiting for the love of his life. And Zhar would report to him, salute to Mini. Then she will turn away and go to a big cold Chimeras base. For some reason Mini couldn’t picture Olga coming to her home. As much as she respected Zhars decision to fence herself off any close relationship – Freya felt bad for not being able to truly share the family love with her.
“Hey, can I have your phone for a minute? Always wanted to try this airdrop* feature, do you mind?” Mini lied – she used this feature a hundred times already. She just wanted to give Olga at least something. So, she sent her a photo of Anya in her bunny onesie. And the one with Anya on Nikolais helicopter seat. And the one with Anya trying a peach for the fist time. It wasn’t much, but these were the photos, Zhar kept asking to show her again and again.
After that flight they parted for quite a long time. Olga had a ton of work, and Mini had a work, a little angel, a husband, trying to spoil that little angel rotten, and a brother, risking his dumb ass constantly.
Every time Freya visited the Chimera base – she knocked on Olga’s door in the hope of an answer. And after a few months it finally happened.
“Come in. Unless it’s Krueger. Fuck off Krueger!” Zhar sounded as if she was in a good mood, although Mini still had to urgently cover little Anyas ears.
Freyas stepped in Zhars office and greeted her.
“Yeah, hi, love. Grab a seat, I need to finish this letter and then I`m all your-“ Olga fell silent, when she saw the baby in Minis arms.
“Ehm, hi… We thought, it would be nice to visit our favorite Chimera Lieutenant.” Freya stepped in the dimly lit office. Anya was staring around with a wide-open mouth.
Zhar didn’t move, she seemed to didn’t even breathe. She looked at Anya with wide eyes full of uncertainty or confusion.
“So, this is where your auntie Olya works.” Freya started telling her daughter, pointing on Olgas desk. “Auntie Olya is very busy, she helps daddy with so many things, so we will just look and be very quiet, like little mice, ok?”
“Can I-“ Zhar started talking, but Nikolais voice from the hall cut her out.
“Lastochka?* Can I have you for a minute?”
Mini was ready to turn to exit when Olga snapped out “Can I please hold her?”. She sounded unfamiliar, her voice was low, tearful, as if Zhar was fighting a lump coming up her throat.
“Of course! Anya loves new faces, here…” Freya handed the baby to Olga and turned around to follow Nikolais voice.
“Don’t worry, I will pick her up in a few min-“
“You are the love of my life…” Mini stopped in her tracks as these words reached her ears. Zhars voice was full of tears. Freya looked back in shock and saw Zhar, the notorious Chimeras Lieutenant with shiny wet cheeks.
She held Anya as if she was made of a glass and as if she was her only hope at the same time. The next words she spoke, were quiet, almost inaudible. But Mini already knew these words.
“You’re the most important person on earth, your happiness is from now on my only mission, your smile is my reason to go on.”
Airdrop – a technology, letting apple phone users to send each other multimedia files.
Lastochka – a swallow. Nikolais nickname for Mini.
youtube
#cod mw2#cod oc#cod original character#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty original character#call of duty modern warfare 2#freya mini mactavish
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That sums up my emotion when I saw these renders
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHHHHHHH 😭
For @sofasoap and her wonderful OC, Freya "Mini" MacTavish. Surprisingly, it took way less time to put together than I thought. I do enjoy making action/adventure scenes, but I just don't do them as much. Why? Because of those damn vests! They look great, but when you move the body, it distorts the pouches, so that's why the character doesn't have any. I really wanted to turn this into a fake movie poster. It kinda has that energy, huh? And I played around with some motion blur, that's why there are two posted. The blur loses a lot of the tiny details: the bullet holes (that took forever to get right) and shells raining down. Enjoy!
#nikolai cod#nikolai#cod nikolai#nikolai call of duty#john soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#mini mactavish#freya “mini” mactavish#call of duty original character#call of duty#mw2022#mw2023#cod fanart#cod soap#houseoftroi oc#houseoftroi gift#3drender#3dartist#daz3d#dazstudio#soap cod#dazstudioiray
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just a funny situation)
(Christine 'Riot' Vega belongs to @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot ; Freya 'Mini' MacTavish belongs to @sofasoap ; Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova belongs @nrdmssgs ; Sofia is mine)
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Both Lt. Simon 'Ghost' Riley and Sgt. Christine 'Riot' Vega adore little Anya, daughter of Nikolai and Mini in one of @sofasoap 's AUs.
Waiting for realization to set in heeeheheheheh
#simon ghost riley x christine riot vega#christine riot vega#christine vega#simon ghost riley#freya mini mactavish#mini mactavish#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#cod oc#cod original character#call of duty original character#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfiction
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Desideria – Prologue

Next
Pairing: Yuri Volkov/Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder
Summary: Strange circumstances and common enemies brings an unlikely pair together.
Genre: General, angst, light fluff, fem!oc
Warnings: Semi-proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, allusions to trauma and guilt, post-MWIII, Soap’s alive rahhhhhh!!!, Yuri's literally mentioned once in this chapter I swear he'll be in the next one lol
Word Count: 2.4k
Note: I've wanted to write this story for a year now, but I've been too scared to do it. It's pure self indulgence that I think only a tiny handful of people will even read but, nonetheless, I'm posting it. Also, I'm stating this outright: OG Yuri had the superior look. That's the face I always imagine on him, even in the reboot lmao
Very special thanks to my beloveds @sofasoap, @nrdmssgs, and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot, who gave me the encouragement and support I needed to finally start this series <3

The fluorescent lights overhead provide no comfort to the woman pacing in the corridor, the incessant buzzing the only sound accompanying the soft clacking of the heels of her boots against the tile floor. She wrings her hands, sore from hours of repeating the same motions in an attempt to provide herself some relief from the thoughts plaguing her.
Running through the same scenario. The same five minutes, over and over again.
"Still here?" The familiar deep timbre of her teammate's voice startles her out of her thoughts, drawing her gaze to the man standing further down the hall.
"Of course." Mylène replies, the fatigue evident in her soft-spoken tone. She stands still as he approaches, stopping a few feet away.
"You been here all night?" Simon asks, stuffing one of his hands in his hoodie pocket and scratching at his cheek through the dark surgical mask obscuring the lower half of his face.
She hums, her gaze flitting to her feet as she absentmindedly toes at a speck of dirt on the otherwise pristine floor. "Yeah, got in at around nine. I was bouncing between rooms for a few hours, but I didn't want to risk waking them up, so I've been in the hall since..." She lifts her hand to glance at the watch on her wrist. "One, maybe one-thirty."
"Fucks sake, it's ten o' clock." He huffs in disbelief. "Assuming you haven't ate or drank anything but coffee. C'mon, let's go down to the cafeteria." He says, motioning with his head for her to follow him.
"I don't want to leave them, what if they need—"
"They’re in medically-induced comas, Leni. They're not waking up in the thirty minutes we'll be gone." He states, matter-of-fact.
Those five minutes flash through her mind again. And again. And again. Had she done enough? Was she quick enough? If she prioritized reaching her teammates in distress instead of securing a safe route for herself and her squad, would things have gone differently?
How much of a difference can thirty seconds make?
"Did I do enough?" Mylène mutters, her voice wavering.
She wasn't one easily shaken – she can remember every single moment she's ever been paralyzed with fear, ever been racked and weighed down with doubt and worry, ever hesitated and had to pay the price for it. She could count those moments on one hand. This was easily one of the worst.
"You saved their lives." Simon comments, the shift in his stance showing his discomfort at even acknowledging they needed to be saved. "Y'had Johnny and Mini's mum crying in your arms thanking you for saving her kids. Don't think you have any reason to doubt yourself."
A heavy breath escapes her, dissipating into the air between them.
"Take this to hell with you, captain." The warning faintly plays through the petra's radio, echoing through her teammates radios as they make their way through the tunnels. She was constantly fighting the urge to break out into a dead sprint, the sounds of gunfire only adding to the anxiety buzzing underneath her skin.
"Never bury your enemies alive."
She could tell they were getting close, the commotion reaching her ears unfiltered. With Ghost and Gaz hurrying alongside her, she knew they could clear a path through the Konni soldiers guarding the area without issue, but it was the battle raging beyond them that had the trio moving faster with each step.
After rounding a corner, everything suddenly came into view. Price, lying on the ground half-concussed, with Mini lying flat on her back some paces away. Soap was on a knee, clutching the arm of the man they were sent here to hunt down in the first place.
The man who seemed to haunt her every move, forcing her to make space for him in the back of her mind. The one responsible for her being dragged back into the field after she thought she was done, the one behind so much of the destruction she was always running to clean up. The one with a gun pointed at Soap's temple, his finger comfortably resting on the trigger.
'There's no time to hesitate.' Petra lifts her sidearm, her rifle's magazine having run empty with no time to reload on the way, and aims towards him.
It was like everything slowed, her heart erratically beating against her ribcage as the blood continues to rush to her ears. Her sightline narrows, focused only on Makarov as she lines up the shot. What felt like half a minute was, in reality, a mere breath before she pulls the trigger in a reckless move that she would have scolded anyone else for attempting.
The single bullet that she fires whizzes past her allies, missing the intended target – his skull – and burying itself in the hand wrapped around his pistol.
The world caught back up to speed as Makarov suddenly withdraws with a low cry, a mixture of shock and pain. Soap falls back on the ground alongside the pistol that previously hovered just above his skin, the commander gripping his hand tight as he instinctively backs away from the group.
The pair lock eyes in the second it takes for his reinforcements to arrive, dark bistre meeting mismatched watercolors in a fleeting glance before it was broken by a new wave of gunfire as Ghost, Gaz, and a semi-recovered Price fire on the soldiers.
Makarov slips away on a train coming through, leaving the group to pick up the pieces of the mission-gone-wrong after dispatching the rest of the enemies.
"Captain, we need to do this together!" Gaz was kneeling in front of the dirty bomb, trying to hurry Price, still sluggish, over to help him disarm it.
Petra’s attention flits between the pair of siblings on the ground, her body running on pure muscle memory as she drops down next to Soap. "I'm gonna need your help here, Ghost!" She slings her bag onto the ground next to her, barely sparing the masked man a look as she directs him to go to the younger MacTavish.
"I don't have any supplies—" He tries to protest, kneeling down next to the barely-conscious Mini.
"And I don't have two bodies to take care of them both," She rebuts, already in the process of tearing off Soap's gear so she could start to patch up his several wounds. "Just apply pressure on the worst of it and try to keep her awake."
Soap's eyes crack open, seas of blue staring up at her. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but a ragged breath is all that falls from his parted lips when he tries to force the words out.
"It's okay, Johnny," She shushes him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder when he tries to shift. "Save your strength, I've got it handled from here." She adds. Petra wasn't certain if she was trying to comfort soap or herself.
The reassurance settles him enough that she can work, the small bag of supplies that she could afford to bring along proving to be barely enough to buy him more time. Nonetheless, she pulls back after staunching the bleeding and sends a look towards Price and Gaz.
"I've done all I can do." She states, pursing her lips as she shifts her focus to her other teammate-in-need.
"I'll send for medics. Ghost, Gaz, get him back up to street level. I'll stay here with the girls." Price nods towards the pair, who leap into action before he even finishes giving the command.
Petra kneels down next to the younger woman, her heart clenching at her pained expression. She considers Mini a sister as much as she considers Soap a brother – Soap could take a bullet better than his sister could, though, and Mini had managed to get herself shot even more than he did.
"I'm here, sweetheart." She murmurs, her usually-steady hands shaking as she carefully strips off Mini's gear.
"Johnny..." She gasps, the tears gathered at her waterline streaking down her cheeks after she squeezed her hazy eyes shut. "Is he..." She trails off with a ragged whimper.
"He'll be okay, let's just worry about you for right now." Petra speaks in a low tone, one she usually reserves for the younger patients she comes across, or for those unfortunate enough to spend their last moments in her arms. "We're gonna get you out of here, too. Just stay awake for me, all right?"
Mini gives a small nod, her bottom lip drawn tight between her teeth as the older woman tries to stabilize her. Price silently stands over the pair like a sentinel, nearly forgetting his own wounds for the sake of staying alert enough to keep them safe.
Mylène's hands clench into tight fists at her sides. Even after scrubbing them until her skin turned an angry red and ached, she could feel their blood staining her hands. Sticky, viscous, a deep scarlet standing out against pale flesh. Her stomach churns at the thought of it, bile rising in her throat as she recalls the way the captain wiped her hands clean on the helicopter when she was sitting frozen and staring at them.
Begrudgingly, she follows Simon to the quiet cafeteria. Her mind is anywhere but the present, even as he gently nudges her to sit at one of the empty tables and mutters something about fetching her something to eat.
It was as if everything happened too slowly and too quickly at the same time. Konni starting their barrage of attacks against Urzikstan and their allies, Makarov breaking out of prison, the constant sprint to try and get ahead of him, casualty after casualty lining the streets and threatening to pin her to the bloodstained asphalt alongside them. The task force had few people they could trust and even fewer who could support them; after Price's hasty execution of General Shepherd, albeit well deserved and long overdue, they had burned several of their bridges, too.
She rests her elbows on the table, her head dropping to rest in her palms. A throbbing pain ebbs and flows behind her eyes, blossoming from her temples and wrapping all the way around her skull.
Three weeks since they failed to kill Makarov in london. Three weeks since Johnny and Freya were placed in the intensive care unit. Three weeks since she's managed to get more than a few hours of restless sleep at night.
When would it be enough?
"The old man said he talked to Laswell recently." Simon comments as he sets a small tray down in front of her.
"Give any details on what they talked about?" Mylène hums, quietly thanking him after lifting her head up again. Her stomach growls, reminding her of how long it's been since she consumed anything but crappy black coffee.
He sits across from her with his own cup cradled between his calloused hands, his filled with the aforementioned crappy coffee while hers is filled with water – he gives her a very pointed look when she cocks a brow at it, a silent warning that they both knew he couldn't hope to enforce. Still, she concedes with a tight-lipped smile.
"Given how we're two down at the moment," He mutters after lowering his mask to take a long drink, a deep sigh escaping him. "He and Laswell are thinkin' of splitting us up, trying to cover more fronts."
"I'd think they'd be turning to the few allies we've still got." She comments through a mouthful of sandwich. "They may be somewhat restricted in their movements, but we've got Farah's forces and the Vaqueros on our side. Could probably call in some favors with Chimera, too." She comments, pointing her sandwich at Simon as she blinks at him.
"Don't point that at me." He bluntly states in mock offense, his eyes creased at the edges and giving away the shit-eating grin he was wearing under his mask. "But, that's what they were plannin' anyway. splitting us up to put us with allies."
"Who are they considering?" She asks, lowering her food.
"It's tentative, but I think Price said something about putting me and Riot with the Vaqueros, sending Gaz and himself to work with Farah and Alex, and letting Laswell handle your assignment." He says slowly, with a nonchalant shrug.
Mylène's forehead creases as her brows knit together. "Why the ambiguity with me specifically?"
"My guess? She's wanting to put you on something special." He sits back in his seat. "Like how she stole you for meeting that contact in Verdansk." He adds.
"That'd mean working with Nikolai again." She mirrors him, tapping her short nails against the tabletop. "Can't imagine what she'd be sending me after other than Makarov’s chemical weapons operations, but I don't see how Nik could help with those outside of transport."
"What about that contact? Didn't you say he gave you some... files or whatever, related to Barkov's research?" Simon vaguely waves with his hand, only half-remembering the story she told the team after Laswell dragged her to Arklov Base.
"Colonel Volkov, right..." Mylène clears her throat and reaches for her water. "He might provide useful, but just the information he provided at Arklov posed a major threat to himself. What are the chances of him taking that risk again?" She ponders out loud, chuckling softly.
Simon huffs. "Think anyone with their sanity intact would be willing to take the risk after what Makarov's done with that research."
"You've got me there." She chirps, circling the rim of her cup with her index finger. "I'll give her a call, see if i can't find out more details myself." She murmurs with an affirmative nod.
"No need, Price said she's coming to meet with you in about an hour or so."
"Godverdomme— you should have started with that, Simon!" She grumbles, pushing back from the table and nearly knocking her chair over in her haste.
At least a special assignment would give her something to distract herself with. She just needed to make herself useful – Johnny and Freya were doing their jobs by hanging in there, now it was time for Mylène to do her part.

#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#mw2#cod mwii#cod mw3#mw3#cod mwiii#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod original character#cod oc#cod ocs#cod yuri#yuri volkov#yuri volkov x oc#petrayuri#mylène “petra” scholten de ridder#freya “mini” mactavish#sylph.writes
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Find yourself a group of people willing to build a full timeline for your OCs and you'll never walk alone.
Lt. Mylene Scholten de Ridder, Petra, Bravo 5 - @eenochian Sgt. Christine Vega, Riot, Bravo 5-1, Wolf-7 - @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot Corporal Freya Iona MacTavish, Mini, Bravo 5-2 - @sofasoap
#nrdmssgs#nrdspeaks#mylène “petra” scholten de ridder#olga zhar samoilova#christine riot vega#freya mini mactavish#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#cod oc#cod original character#call of duty original character#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfiction
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"Full speed ahead!" "JOHNNY YOU WEIGH LIKE A TON!!!" "Great training session for you isn't it? you said you wanted build up some muscles..." "You need to lose some fat first!!!!" -- Daily life of the MacTavish sibling. by wonderful @nrdmssgs
Thank you so much for the beautiful art 🥹🥹🥹 I absolutely love it!!! please check out @nrdmssgs's page, her commission is open!!!!
#AHHHHHHH#i love it so much#thank you so much!!!#john soap mactavish#freya 'mini' mactavish#call of duty#call of duty original character#call of duty oc#mini mactavish#mini mactavish universe
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Was it hard/complicated to come up with more or less universal archetype of character, that would be paired with different CoD men? Did you 'set the rules of the game' from the very start (eg ' in every route, Mini will have same preferences in civilian attires')? Or did it evolve with every iteration of every story?
I am sorry took me so long to get to this ask Hello my lovely Moot *big big hug*
To be honest with you? all I had right from the beginning of Mini was only two things. ( and thanks to @saltofmercury again for giving birth to her :P ) 1) Soap's (slightly annoying) younger sister. 2) Civillian that works in healthwork field. I never really thought beyond anything of those two point at the beginning. but as my interest in other character expands.. the background story slights to alter, bending the rules slightly in each universe makes it more interesting and easier to let the story evolve. one universe she is civilian, another she would be in military. I change it accordingly to the men she is paired with, making the situation bit more realistic. eg: first meeting with the Los Vaqeuros men, while I would love to do a "oopsie a civvie runs into the cartel war' scenario, it just gets bit too cheesy in my mind ( it is possible but i will so ruin it ) and I don't want to write it as a damsel in distress scenario, so them starting off as "work colleagues" seems more natural ( well. Rudy fell in love at the first meeting with Mini/reader but... they didn't jump straight into it...) and as for the 141 men, it was easier to write Mini as Civilian, as her connection to the men through Soap ( brother's workmates. )
but one thing that is consistant is Mini's relationship with Soap. I just love writing the sibling dynamics and bond between these two. the overprotective brother, Mini's admiration towards Soap being the big brother that can do everything.
Thank you for your ask!
#thank you for your ask#love you lots#lovely moots#ask#asked and answered#call of duty#Freya 'Mini' MacTavish#Soafsoap rambles
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This is a fantastic commission by my dear beloved @temeyes of my equally beloved Lastochka Squad!
From left to right
Lt. Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova, former 141 and now Chimera's second in command ( @nrdmssgs ) . She's startled and thinking what is she doing with these people lmao
Sgt. Christine 'Riot' Vega, about to murder a bug like the fucking rabid gremlin she is (she loves her knives teehee)
Corporal Freya 'Mini' MacTavish ( @sofasoap ). Giving one of her highly researched sexual pieces of advice no doubt.
Lt. Mylène 'Petra' Scholten de Ridder ( @siilvan ). Who is both scared if the bug about to be murdered and Mini's 'advice'.




We are a fucking menace 🤭
Thank you so much, tim, i love you 🫂

#lastochka squad#lastochkas#temeyes#olga zhar samoilova#mylene petra scholten de ridder#freya mini mactavish#christine riot vega#freaking gremlins#i love you all#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#cod oc#cod original character#call of duty original character#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfiction
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For @sofasoap
Anya is Nikolai and Mini's daughter in one of her AU's, and also in the AU where The Dropouts by @nrdmssgs is set.
#cod nikolai#mw3 nikolai#call of duty nikolai#nikolai cod#nikolai call of duty#freya mini mactavish#mini mactavish#call of duty#cod mw2#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#cod fanfiction
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Thanks for the tag!!! @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot
Freya “Mini” MacTavish x Emiel Scholten de Ridder (belongs to @siilvan )
height difference (ah. 30cm difference) / mutual pining / first kiss / wedding ( eventually..)/ in-jokes / lgbtq+ / Family disapproval/ would die for each other / would kill for each other / fake relationship / arranged wedding / cuddlers / Pda Friendly / and they were roommates / holding hands / secret relationship / opposing worldviews / getting a pet / have kids (Wolf and Kismet!)/ want kids / grow old together / relationship failures ( ah uhhhhh.. yesss ? And the chaos after.. and then..) / rests head on shoulder / share a bed / relationship doubts / they have a song / first date / sharing a blanket / mutual interests / study buddies / bathing together / crash into hello ( I guess so in a way? No time to do in depth intro and they are on the run..) / accidental nudity / laundry / same hobbies / cooking for each other (Mini is a shit cook.. well decent. Emiel cooks like a pro) / big fancy gala / sibling rivalry / forehead touches / hair stroking / sitting on each other’s laps / sexual tension / can’t be together / battle couple / Friends to Lovers / Enemies to Lovers / Lovers to Enemies(sort of? After the break up..)/ keeping secrets / love after loss / exes / declaration of love / flirting / love triangle / destructive romance / envy / “I Don’t Want to Ruin Our Friendship” / shared values / slow burn / does not end well / happily ever after ( yesss) / love letters
KRUEGERNAK SHIP INFO 🦅🐍
I saw a couple of people I recognize on the #CallofDuty OC tag do this and thought it'd be fun! (Also I totally most definitely took inspo with the art from @sleepyconfusedpotato 's entry because the format was cute and simple; so I'm giving credit where credit is due, I stand on the shoulders of giants)
Rules: Bold the themes that apply to your ship, and italicize the theme if it’s one-sided, within your story.
height difference (8 inches BOOO) / mutual pining / first kiss (It was in a Humvee) / wedding / in-jokes / lgbtq+ / Family Disapproves (Naga won't like Krueger, Krueger's parents are dead (L) but would probably like Nak) / would die for each other / would kill for each other / fake relationship / arranged wedding / cuddlers / Pda Friendly (Krueger) / and they were roommates / holding hands / secret relationship / opposing worldviews / getting a pet / have kids / want kids (Krueger) / grow old together / relationship failures / rests head on shoulder / share a bed / relationship doubts / they have a song / first date / sharing a blanket / mutual interests / study buddies / bathing together / crash into hello / accidental nudity / laundry / same hobbies / cooking for each other (Krueger can't cook) / big fancy gala / sibling rivalry / forehead touches (in private) / hair stroking / sitting on each other’s laps (KRUEGER SITS ON HER LAP LIKE A PRINCESS) / sexual tension / can’t be together / battle couple / Friends to Lovers / Enemies to Lovers / Lovers to Enemies / keeping secrets / love after loss / exes / declaration of love / flirting / love triangle / destructive romance / envy (Nak) / “I Don’t Want to Ruin Our Friendship” / shared values / slow burn / does not end well / happily ever after (No promises) / love letters
Their Song(s)
(👆 Translate this one I love the lyrics)
Tagging: @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot , @caelums-fate , @nrdmssgs , @breadtheend , @iciclehorrifica and whoever wants to join! (Feel free to mention me I like reading Abt ppls ships :3)
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