#all modern warfare ii weapons

[trandtalk]

Modern Warfare 2 Update: What to Expect So Far

Modern Warfare 2 Update: What to Expect So Far

We talked quickly about the changes coming to Call of Duty in the previous article. In this article, we will go deep into what they are adding in this Modern Warfare 2 update. Most, if not all, of these updates are for Modern Warfare 2’s multiplayer. Credit social media Modern Warfare 2 Emergent gameplay Emergent gameplay refers to the various innovations and updates that Infinity Ward is…

[insipid-drivel]

Warhorses: Which horses are actually good candidates, anyway?

This post is in honor of @warrioreowynofrohan, who asked the question in the comments under my guide, "Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap". Their question, "Given what you said about too much weight breaking a horse’s spine, how did that work with knights in plate armour?" is one I'm going to try to answer here, since the answer can be very nuanced depending on where and when you're talking about.

Also, while I was a stable hand for years as well as a rider, I never had the opportunity to directly learn more ancient styles of tacking, horse training, and combat, so I don't have any direct experience to draw from with regard to horses used for military purposes. I'm still gonna do my best here with what I know, and research what I don't.

As I've covered in the past, large horses (draft horses) make less-than-ideal warhorses, and so do carriage horses like the elegant and dramatic Friesians.

Let's begin by addressing this from the perspective of creative writing. For you writers and content creators out there, an essential part to the continuity of any historically-themed work you do involving horses will be depicting breeds of horses that didn't exist before a certain time in history. I'm going to approach this question from the stance of, "Medieval-type era warhorses". Horses were used in warfare as late was World War II, but actual horses you ride into battle with knights and archers and bannermen? We actually have to drop the subject of specific modern breeds altogether aside from using them for comparisons.

When discussing warhorses, various cultures have approached them differently. Some cultures will value a specific type of horse above all others, such as the Mongolian Steppe Horse or the American Mustang. Other cultures, which may be from biomes and territories where multiple types of horses are needed for different forms of warfare and tactics, value whichever horses can get their jobs done without their riders getting killed.

Carrying vs. Pulling:

Horses have been used in warfare since as far back as 4000 BC, but their first applications were more as chariot horses. Humans have been riding and working with horses since before we even had stirrups to more easily ride them with! As archaeologists and anthropologists make more discoveries, the more we learn that we humans have been working closely with horses since before we had specialized tools to ride them with. The very first warhorses pulled chariots or carts, which is much easier for a horse's anatomy to handle compared to carrying a heavy weight like an armored rider on their backs, which puts stress directly on their spines where they have very little supporting muscle for supporting a lot of heavy downward weight.

Warhorse Size Categories:

Really, any breed of horse can apply to a niche in warfare if it's needed enough. Even very small, delicate horses have had their place in the history of human combat! Before I continue, it's important to know that there's a unique unit of measuring a horse's height. Rather than measuring a horse's height in centimeters or inches, they're measured in units called "hands". A single "hand" = ~4 inches/10.16cm, and a horse's height is measured based upon the distance between the bottom of their hoof to the tallest part of their shoulders, just at the base of the back of their necks. We don't actually include neck length/head height in a horse's measurements with traditional measuring.

Another rule of thumb: The average horse cannot safely carry anything heavier than about 30% of their total body weight. This is a serious factor to take into mind when deciding on a type of or breed of horse for a mounted warrior of any kind: You need to factor in the OC's starting body weight, and then add on the weight of armor, weapons, and any armor the horse itself may wear along with the weight of its tack.

Light-Weight Horses:

A few examples of lightweight horse breeds whose ancestors have historically been used in combat are Arabians, Barber Horses, and the magnificent Akhal-Teke. Lightweight and delicately-boned horses like those are best applied for military maneuvers that require precision, speed, and endurance, and the rider themselves should specialize in some form of combat or reconnaissance that doesn't require them to wear heavy metal or laminated armors. Archers are good candidates for riding smaller horses, or lightly-armored swordsmen like an Ottoman Janissary.

Central-Asian and North African horses also benefit from having a higher tolerance for hot climates. They can absolutely suffer from heatstroke and cardiac arrest from being forced to run and work in extreme temperatures and should always be provided with the same protective measures in a heatwave as any other horse, but they have a little bit of an edge over horses descended from freezing and temperate climates.

Medium-Weight Horses:

Medium-weight horses started showing up in the archaeological record around about the Iron Age, where chariot warfare was becoming an increasingly utilized form of mobile combat, and people needed bigger, stronger horses capable of pulling heavier loads - such as a chariot with two passengers rather than just one. As cultures began to develop heavier-duty armors made of metals and laminated materials, it also became important to breed horses that were tall and stocky (muscular and with relatively short spines compared to their height), and therefore more capable of carrying riders in increasingly heavy armor. Medium-weight horses were also essential at the dawn of the gunpowder age when the cannon came into use in siege warfare for pulling the heavy, iron cannons into position.

Medium-weight horses are really where we see the beginnings of knights and other warrior classes on horseback come into the forefront of warfare. When you have a horse that's big and strong enough to carry heavier armor and heavier weapons along with a rider wielding them, you have a much deadlier force at your disposal. Strikes from a sword or spear from the back of a galloping horse basically results in a sword capable of cutting through enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.

Important Note: Traditionally, cavalrymen wield blunt swords when attacking from a charging horse's back. When a horse is charging at full speed, the sharpness of a blade becomes less important than the blade's ability to stay in one piece when it impacts hard armor and bone. A blunted edge basically turns a cavalryman's sword into a thin club that's better at holding up against smashing through multiple layers of armor and bone compared to a thinner, more delicate sharpened edge that can shatter from a high-speed impact.

Heavy-Weight Horses:

The direct ancestors of modern draft horses, such as the Shire Horse, only began to appear around about the beginning of the European Medieval Era, and were far and away not even close to the enormous sizes of the draft horses we have today. Any horse counts as a "Heavy-weight" classed horse if its weight exceeds 1500lbs/680kgs.

Heavy-weight horses were really more bred for pulling enormous weights rather than carrying knights. While yeah, there is some evidence that suggests that heavy-weight horses were used by heavily-armored knights, historians argue a lot about whether it was a rule or an exception (such as with Henry VIII, who continued to ride well after he had begun to weigh more than 350lbs/158kgs, and even went to war in France in his final years on horseback). Generally speaking, medium-weight horses tend to be the right balance of agile and strong for carrying someone that's going to actively be fighting. Heavy-weight horses were bred to be a lot more tolerant to the chaos and frightening stimulation of the sounds of battle, but medium-weighted horses generally tended to be more suited to moving efficiently through dense packs of soldiers and weaving around other horses.

Ponies:

While actually being the smallest class of warhorse, ponies were essential when it came to carrying cargo and working as pack-horses. In certain forms of terrain, such as mountains, large horses pulling big carts full of supplies or soldiers could often be extremely impractical. In situations where an army needed to move on foot and form a narrow line in order to travel, ponies were able to traverse much narrower and rougher terrain while carrying smaller loads to their destination, when heavier horses would struggle more under their own weight and dexterity.

Europe-Specific Terminologies:

If you're a writer reading this and writing a piece set in the European Medieval age, there are specific terms used for the different classes I listed of warhorses above that I'm gonna list:

Destriers: The Destrier was a universal term for the iconic knight-carrying, jousting horse. They were also sometimes referred to as "Great Horses" due to their reputations in combat settings. Destriers could have just about any appearance, but were rarely taller than 15.2 hands, or 62inches/157cm. They were capable of carrying heavily-armored knights (although knights in full plate mail rarely rode into battle and stayed on the horse the entire time - they tended to specialize at grouping up and killing a lot of footsoldiers swarming them at once and preventing breaks in defenses from being overwhelmed by an oncoming army; in the case of Edward the Black Prince, we have substantial evidence in the form of his surviving brigandine that a mounted soldier or knight was more likely to wear chainmail and brigandine with a tabard on their body with their arms, feet, and heads the most heavily armored in plate when they intended to fight on horseback, making them a little lighter and more maneuverable, but I may be waaay off base there because I'm thinking of more of Italian soldiers who used full plate and how they applied it in battle more than any other example) and wearing armor themselves.

Interestingly, the sex of a destrier was often chosen strategically. Stallions (horses that haven't been neutered) are more aggressive, and could both act as combatants on their own if their knight was dismounted or killed, but could give away an army's location if they were attempting to move stealthily. Stallions whinny and shriek a lot when they're horny or arguing with each other, which is most of the time.

Mares were often chosen by Muslim armies for being much less vocal, and therefore much more capable of stealth. Geldings (neutered males) were the preferred mounts of the Teutonic Knights, a Catholic military group, since they couldn't be stolen and used to breed more horses for the enemy army.

Coursers:

Coursers were the most common Medieval European warhorse. It's important to remember that in Medieval Europe, most armies were almost entirely comprised of common men - serfs subject to the will of their landlords, not far removed from slaves in many ways - who couldn't afford the highly-prized and expensive Destriers. Coursers were usually a bit lighter than Destriers, but were still strong enough to carry someone wearing armor. Coursers were also a little more utilitarian, because they were also sometimes used in hunting as well as warfare, so they had a valuable use outside of warfare that the owner could benefit from.

Rouncey:

A rouncey was an all-purpose horse that could be used for leisure and travel-riding as well as be trained for war. They were a lot more likely to be found on the farm of a serf or independent farmer of some kind, as they could fill a lot of different roles depending on what they were needed for. Their sizes weren't really important as much as their ability to get the job done.

It's also critical to remember that, when talking about warhorses, we're usually talking about eras long past. In general, thanks to resource availability and incredible advances in medicine, modern humans are significantly taller, and therefore heavier, than people from the European Medieval era and prior. While fatness was valued in many cultures for its suggestion of wealth, most working-class and serf-class people worked intensely physically-demanding daily lives just to maintain their own homes. They were a few inches shorter on average than we are today, had greater fluctuations in body fat distribution depending on how harsh or bountiful the harvest season had been and the season in which a war was taking place (the average person's weight would swing by 30lbs or more on average every year prior to the industrial era), and cavalry were usually chosen based upon skill in the saddle as well as physical size when considering the application of medium or heavy armor being placed on the horse's back and body.

[mistydeyes]

𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽!

click me for asks + requests :)

2k celebration! submit an au/prompt from the list now until halloween :)

requests: open! i am in uni tho so it takes me about 1-2 weeks to answer!

pairings status: closed atm!

rules for requests - i love when you send things 💌

note - message me or comment on any one of my works if you want to be added to a tag list :)

I usually post on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays

izzie's fic recommendations - updated daily!

some things about me :)

the basics: 21, she/her, from the us :)

i'm a second year pharmacy student! also minoring in justice, law, and society

along with writing, i also intern at a perfume company and work at as a pharmacy intern

so naturally my pharmacist series is my absolute favorite to write and research!

𝓶𝔀𝓲𝓲 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 - the full masterlist

don't know where to start? here's a few readers' favorites :) ❤️ - izzie’s favorites

💌 if you want to peek at all of my writings

S E R I E S

"your prescription is ready for pick-up" - 141 x pharmacist!reader

all of my works and our pharmacist reader

a panacea❤️ - 141 meets the cure to all their ailments

sick day visit - you prided yourself on never getting sick but the day has finally come. as you’re resting in your quarters, a certain group pays you a visit :)

fake hypochondriac ghost x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - ghost goes to extreme lengths to see his favorite pharmacist

pain-killer fueled thoughts price x reader (sequel to “a panacea”) - price landed himself in the medic tent and his pain killers are making him tell the pharmacist his feelings.

keep your weapons hot and bodies hotter (18+) - stripper!141 x fem!reader (codename: Phoenix)❤️

hunk-o-mania 141 edition - feast your eyes on Delilah's Den's newest male dancers

playboy bunny phoenix edition - an unforeseen guest complicates the mission, now you have to get ready to act as the distraction on stage

the joys of civilian life - 141 x civilian!fem!reader

opposite occupations - while on leave, the boys each meet a civilian that makes their time deployed and defending their country worth it

family moments - 141 x fem!reader

little moments and little voices - precious moments you spend in your home with your husband and children :)

oh, darling, don’t you ever grow up - your husband leaves this world too early and now you have to pick up the pieces with your children

secrets and pointed fingers (requested!)❤️ - simon "ghost" riley

behind locked doors - when the 141 thinks you're the mole, they make sure to extract the information in whatever way possible

empty apologies and avoiding glances - when you return back to base, everything is far from normal

half empty glasses and unchanging perspectives - you try to run away from the trauma at the pub but with a glass in hand, simon finds you

O N E - S H O T S

odd hobbies - 141 x reader everyone has their own hobbies, yours are just unique to 141’s perspective

butterfly effect - 141 x fem!reader they say "a butterfly flaps its wings in the amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of europe." what once was a silly quote now has implications as one action leads to your death.

opposite of a meet cute❤️ - 141 x civilian!reader most people have a cute story as to how they met their significant other but yours is a little more eccentric

V I S U A L S + R A N D O M

random things in pockets and bags❤️ SERIES - what does the 141 carry on them when they’re on leave?

pt i- kyle “gaz” garrick

pt ii - simon "ghost" riley

pt iii - johnny "soap" mactavish

pt iv - john price

E X P L A I N S my series of explaining the various timeline's of the games and characters

simon "ghost" riley's backstory

which modern warfare game should i play first?

some writings from the inbox

medication mixup - the medic unknowingly prescribing you a penicillin has disastrous results due to your allergy

141’s dossier - see what the dossiers laswell gets at the end of mw 2019 looks like! + template

ghost’s doppelgänger - how does the 141 and los vaqueros react to you joining the team? their reactions are even better when you share an uncanny resemblance with ghost

running mascara - 141 x fem!reader harsh words are said and you try your best to run away from the cause. however, everyone needs to face the issue eventually and now the 141 is left to pick up the pieces. initially part of my 1k celebration but i added a sequel as it was highly requested! PART I and PART II

mw2 x reader - my ongoing series of pairing y'all up and writing a short lil blurb about how you met and your relationship

izzie’s 1K celebration! - closed now :) but feel free to look and see some of the prompts + how i answered them

𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

[steampunkforever]

The pistol has little use in wartime. There. I said it. Pistols in wartime are for making the officers feel like the prettiest boys at the party. In truth, wartime engagement distances are way too far for pistols to matter, and weapons technology has developed compact rifle caliber packages that are far superior at close quarters warfare compared to the handling and limitations of a pistol.

Civilian, spycraft, and police use are more sensible pistol doctrines than wartime use. A pistol to protect yourself from a mugger, home invader, or carjacker (Atlanta still has those or so I’ve heard) makes perfect sense considering the tight spaces in which these conflicts occur and the need to limit overpenetration in civilian areas. Battlefield ranges, on the other hand, require rifle rounds to reach out and put holes in armor, something pistols cannot do.

Pistols are also more covert than even the smaller pistol caliber carbines. Undercover operatives armed with a pistol either for defensive or offensive purposes can keep one low profile and tucked away, sometimes even just comfortably stored in their pocket. The quieter report of a pistol means that even with a suppressor installed, the overall package stays small and discreet, something that doesn’t really matter when the rules of war prevent soldiers from dressing as civilians.

The pistol is for quick, short-range, dynamic engagements. Police work is full of these. The limited weight and portability of a pistol means that one can be comfortably strapped to a gun belt for a day of patrolling, and with most civilian gun battles lasting less than ten seconds, the limited magazine round count doesn’t matter for day to day operations. The militarization of the police is trying to change this, of course, but it comes down to the fact that an MTA cop simply doesn’t want to be carrying a 10 to 15 pound hunk of metal slung across his chest all day when he could just keep a 5 pound lump comfortably on his belt.

Practicality wins out here, and a pistol is going to make much more sense for someone living in a friendly city with less imminent danger than someone dropped in a world battlefield having to go up against battle rifles.

All this to say that actually, Shadow the hedgehogs use of pistols is probably more justified by tactical doctrine than the guy on the cover of Modern Warfare II.

[l0velylecter]

can i request headcannons for könig + 141 x reader! who is not in the military? maybe something like they are into arts, wants to live in cottage, have big family? i feel like it would be the opposite of the boys lol

— the men of 141 & könig + a civilian s/o !  characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, captain john price, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, könig  fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons, some mild characterisation for the reader as i’ll put them into civlian professions / give them hobbies and interests  rating : t for teen and up audiences , sfw!

01| If there was one word to describe Soap was that he's supportive. There was the initial worry that he wouldn't enjoy your lifestyle, that you'd be too different from one another. Yet, it doesn't matter to Johnny, even if he doesn't quite understand it. He's the type to enjoy anything his partner likes as long as it makes them happy. So it doesn't matter how busy he gets, he'd always be on the front row of your music recitals, urging the crowd to give standing ovations. And when you take him to museums to see paintings of Rembrandt or Vermeer, he tries his best to listen to every word you say, focused on how your eyes light up with passion. You also enjoy reading to him, running your hand against his scalp as he drifts off to sleep. 

02|  He had doubts about having a life outside the military, most days, Price felt more like a weapon than a man, a loaded gun ready to be recoiled and fired. After years of grueling fights and endless violence, it's hard to picture himself living a quiet and peaceful life. Yet, coming home to you gave him just that. You were both busy, so you would spend months and sometimes even a year apart. Yet the moment he comes home, he'd be all over you — following you around as you roamed your walk-in closet, undressing by the vanity table as he watched in quiet admiration. Once, when you were dozing off against his shoulder, you confessed to dreaming of having a big family. Of children's laughter ringing down the halls and sending them off to school every day. You didn't expect Price to cling to those words. " Someday," He mused, " Someday, love." He was wishful despite everything. And hope suits him. (Husband material, you once complimented, and he got too attached to the word.) 

03| To Gaz, it doesn't matter what you'd be doing as long as you were together. All he wanted was to spend time with you, especially when moments were rare. And so he tries to keep up with your shopping, with all the bags dangling off his arms, taking you out might as well be an endurance test. Although, it does make him happy to see you show off your new bag, clothes, and shoes: nodding along as you explain the design. He'd be cleaning his gun, and you'd be on the other side painting your nails, the scene almost comical. He leaves the bathroom door open so he can still talk to you every morning. Afterward, he'd take the time to drive you to work, hand on your thigh lovingly as he soaks in the joy of doing ordinary, mundane tasks.  04| Dressed head to toe in black, all the farm animals crowded Ghost curiously, and while Simon looked terribly out of place against the lush, green stretch of pasture, the sight was enough to make you laugh. And you were sure he also enjoyed living in the countryside, even with you scolding him every hour about leaving his weapons around the cottage. (You nearly cut a basket of apples with his combat knives, dropping them when you realized where they've been.) If he's not helping you collect eggs from the chicken coop ( returning with a head full of feathers ), he's dozing off by the persimmon tree, the only time you've seen him this close to relaxing. Away from all the commotion and in isolation from any unwanted company, your life was a haven he finally lets himself indulge in, a sanctuary that reminds him to look after himself after every time he fights.  05| At times, König confesses to you that your entire relationship feels like a fevered dream, a silly fantasy he's conjured up in his head because he still cannot believe he's dating you. You assured him that you weren't that big of a celebrity, and he corrected you by pointing out your face on the billboard outside your apartment. He's flattered by all the gifts you spoil him with daily, somewhat flustered as you present to him a tactical watch that probably costs more than a car. Your lifestyles should have been impossible to co-exist side by side, especially when König does not want and cannot afford all of the attention you get on the daily. But apparently, being 6'10 in a balaclava means he doesn't mind being your bodyguard. Most of the time, it was enough to give you the privacy you both wanted, and it still awes him every time he sees you on the television, even on duty, halfway across the world; chuckling to himself when his teammates would point out how beautiful you were — if only they knew.

a/n : hi anon ! thank you for requesting, to be honest, i’ve been dying for someone to request this because i do love me some civilian x cod men content. i didn’t want to add too much specific details as i want to make it as open as possible for everyone to interpret ( i read somewhere that when reader! fics are too specific it ruins the fun because it seems very oc so i’m being very careful to be inclusive <3 ) i hope you enjoy it ! thank you again for the fun idea, hope it lives up to your expectations 💖  additional hc :  → könig probably steals simon’s look and also goes out in a balaclava, simon’s heated and low-key offended ( don’t worry Si, you’re still the og trendsetter )

[mutantthedark]

Call Of Duty Modern Warfare II Sigma's Story

Prologue: Another new recruit for support

The helicopter lowers it's altitude as it arrives at the location where one person was contected. The rotor blades beating the winds in a rapid rhythm.

The door of the helicopter opens with a loud "whooosh" as a young woman jumps out safety on her feet on the ground. She puts her hand on her head and looks at the building in front of her where she was contacted. Nodding to herself, she begins to walk in her gears over her shoulders.

...

Kate Laswell and General Shepherd are alone in the office, the windows are sealed shut black while General argues about Iran and the missiles.

"Oh, deniability my ass- Iran's are all over this. I wanna know how many they have and where they intend to use 'em." Shepherd's frustrated voice echoes around the office as Laswell is pacing around, then she stops.

"If Hassan is moving missiles he has a smuggling partner." Laswell glares at General as she puts her hand on the chair.

"Well then, I would advise you who that is." He said while tilting his head. 

"Give my team two hours with those missiles, sir." Laswell walks to the laptop. "I will know everybody who's ever breathed on." She was about to type something, but Shepherd interrupts her.

"Negative, I want 'em destroyed."

Laswell sighs and approaches him- "General, there's value Intel there."

The footsteps echoes in the hallway while walking to the meeting room, she was about to knock but hears voices. She bends her head a little to the side to listen.

"This is an intelligence failure, Laswell... it's not gonna be a tactic one. There will be 500 enemy soldiers an that site by sunrise." He taps his finger on the table. "We need a win fast."

Well, what a wonderful conversation between them. Everybody wants to win, but all the crap is going apart.

Laswell blinks and walks to the monitor and looks at it. General bends down to the microphone and taps the button to contact Ghost.

"Gold Eagle actual to Ghost- Move your team and call for fire, I want those weapons destroyed."

"Roger that, Actual."

Laswell's eyes are trailing to the screen with slightly mouth opened, trying to think of something, then it hit her.

"Amsterdam." She calls it and it made her to walk to the laptop.

"What the hell's Amsterdam got to do with this?" General raises his eyebrow.

Laswell zooms the map on the screen and looks at it. "It's a smuggling hub." Turning her head to General. "Ports and canals are insecure. Iran has friends there... We do too... and I sent another one who's going to help us."

General blinks and straightens himself. "Who?"

Laswell points at the door as young woman walks inside quietly and shuts the door behind her. "Me, General."

General looks at the girl and it's her... Her bright blue eyes are looking at them, her black hair is shinning. Her hands are resting on her hips.

"Halia "Sigma" Connors. She's from United States Air Force Academy. It should be good opportunity to bring her here to meet her" Laswell said as General is still staring at her.

"Pleasure to meet you, General." Sigma's voice is calm, yet a little rough while nodding her head.

"Likewise..." He said nodding his head. "You better not to screw this up or you'll be squished like a bug, you hear me?" General walks to her small figure while glaring at her. 

Sigma crosses her arms and looks at him, "For that sharp tongue of yours, you're the reason why God created a middle finger."

The General grunted at her clapback gesture and steps away a bit, Looking at Laswell as her arms are crossed, giving him a signal if he's going to accept it or not... A F.N.G. they say? He must to trust her now with combat skills.

For United States Air Force Airmen or women, they don't only fly planes or help for support. The ground field is more important too. General sees Sigma well trained, sharp features. She may have a soft and calm look on her face, but you shouldn't mess with her.

General sighs through his nostrils and looks at Sigma. "We'll take her."

WHOOOO!!! AND IT'S STARTING!! Hope you liked this short chapter! I didn't drew a cover because I was lazy TwT

[dailycallofduty]

HOW TO PLAY: MWIII CAMPAIGN

Aside from revealing the number of Campaign Missions, the following information is considered spoiler-free.

The Call of Duty®: Modern Warfare® III Campaign is a direct continuation of the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II narrative, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. The ultranationalist Vladimir Makarov is back on the scene, extending his grasp across the world.

From COD HQ, head to the Modern Warfare III section and select the Campaign tile. Even though the game has already launched, we don’t want to spoil anything about it. Follow the prompts when starting the Campaign to choose your difficulty setting and then get right to it. The game will tell you everything you need to know to get started. Prepare for a wild ride.

Open Combat Missions:

Modern Warfare III introduces Open Combat Missions (OCMs), which occur throughout the Campaign alongside more traditional single-player missions. OCMs redefine player agency, offering an unparalleled degree of freedom and greatly expanding the playable area.

Open Combat Missions require the best of the best. In each mission, you will deploy as a designated member of Task Force 141: Farah, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, or Price.

In your first playthrough of an OCM, your Operator is assigned a starting Loadout according to the mission’s narrative, including the Spotter Scope to better scan the environment for enemy threats, tagging enemies, locating equipment, and discovering information about points of interest. One of your first tasks is to seek out better gear, of which there is an abundance, found throughout the area of operations.

Gear Up

Expect to find all sorts of useful items in OCMs, including new weapons, Equipment, Field Upgrades, and even Armaments (that Multiplayer Operators know as “Killstreaks”) that will boost your offensive and defensive capabilities. Of particular importance, however, are the Parachute, Ascender, and Armor Plate Carrier upgrades.

➢ Parachute: The Parachute is a game changer, allowing you to safely jump from great heights and soar over long distances. Follow the button prompt when jumping from a high point to activate the Parachute. When you’re close to landing, your Operator will automatically cut the rope and return to a standing position, or you can cut the cord manually to force a landing.

➢ Ascender: Going up! The Ascender helps you reach the highest points on the map. With this item, you can zip up ropes that lead to places in key positions throughout the environment, or ziplines to move across long horizontal distances. Use your elevated or newly-acquired position to escape a problematic situation, snipe from a distance, or, if you’ve got the Parachute, reposition far from your current location.

➢ Plate Carrier Upgrade Vest: Initially, your Operator can only equip one Armor Plate at a time, a reasonable-enough defense in minor battles but lacking when the action gets hectic. Find a Plate Carrier Upgrade Vest to increase the number of Armor Plates you can equip at a time. When you first find the Vest, your carrying capacity will increase to two Armor Plates, and then three after finding another one. Now you’re ready for anything.

Getting Around: Your Tac Map and Minimap

➢ Tac Map

The Tac Map is of essential importance, providing an overview of the objective and its location. A legend indicates the position of important items, and a tracker shows your most important gear and the weapons and items you’ve discovered in the level.

When first deploying into an OCM, the majority of the Tac Map will be covered in a fog of war. As you explore the environment, the fog will be lifted, revealing greater environmental detail.

➢ Minimap

Use the minimap to pinpoint items in your immediate surroundings without needing to pull up your Tac Map. Discovered weapons, Supply Boxes, Field Upgrades, and other Armaments will be displayed here along with the objective location and other points of interest.

➢ Enemy Alert Levels: The minimap is also your cue to the enemy’s current alert level. When you’ve been seen, the borders will turn yellow, indicating that they are aware of something in the vicinity without knowing your exact location. If found — or if you initiate the attack — the borders will turn red to show that they know where you are. At this time, an enemy may even throw the alarm to call in reinforcements.

The enemies themselves also follow this color-coded system. Red dots on the minimap indicate enemies rushing to engage in combat, while yellow dots represent enemies on the lookout.

With fast movement and clever repositioning, it’s possible to get out of the alert state. Red will revert to yellow when they’ve lost you but are still on guard for your whereabouts, and then will return to a less aggressive state  if you continue to remain out of sight. At this point, you can resume your stealth operations, or just get into a better position before going guns blazing again.

Play It Again

OCMs reward exploration and repeated playthroughs with weapons and items found throughout the level. When you replay an OCM, you get to customize your starting Loadout based on the weapons and items you’ve found in previous playthroughs.

Start the mission with your Parachute and Ascender already in hand, plus any extra Armor Plate carrying capacity earned through Vests. Use your enhanced starting gear to push into higher difficulty levels and/or try out new tactics.

Top 5 Tips for Open Combat Missions

1. There’s always another way. Grab a vehicle and race past the sentries straight to the objective; dive into the water and reposition out of sight; use your Parachute to soar over enemy encampments. OCMs offer endless possibilities in how you approach the task at hand. If something’s not working, revisit your tactics and take a new approach.

2. The right gear for the job. While at first, you’ll need to make do with the gear you’re provided, with enough exploration and scavenging, you’ll soon a wider variety of equipment that can best suit your style of play. If you’re going stealth, Throwing Knives and a Recon Drone are better choices than Frag Grenades and unsuppressed weapons and vice versa.

3. Know your enemy. Even if you’re not going the stealth route, it pays to stay out of sight and scout nearby enemy positions. Look for red vehicles on the minimap indicating enemy patrols, and scan the horizon for snipers and other threats you might miss when rushing straight in. Regardless of your approach, that intel will help you make better decisions in the heat of the moment.

4. Build up your arsenal. OCMs encourage replayability through the accumulation of weapons and items found in the level. Use your arsenal to build out the perfect Loadout on subsequent playthroughs and get right to the task at hand without first needing to scavenge for the proper supplies.

5. Ramp up the challenge. Use your expanded arsenal on subsequent playthroughs to push into higher difficulty levels. Tackling an OCM on Veteran is much more manageable when deploying with your preferred Loadout.

[weatherman667]

Types of Tanks

Most people think Light, Medium, and Heavy, but these are entirely dependant upon context. Since WWII, most tank design has gone towards Universal Tanks, either on purpose, or by accident. And throughout the short history of tanks, there has always been an effort to make thicker armour and more powerful weapons. A literal arms race.

Infantry Tank

The British literally invented tanks, and the first tank they created without foresight into what tanks could become was the Infantry Tank. The Infantry tank is designed to support infantry. This means it only needs to go as quickly as a soldier does at a march. This was back when the infantry literally walked everywhere. We are so used to vehicles nowadays that it's hard to comprehend, but if you wanted your infantry to cross Europe, they literally had to walk there. Because of the fact it does not need to move all that quickly, all of it's power can be used for armour and weaponry. This allows them to be produced for cheap, and if anyone thinks that cost is not an issue in warfare, you literally know nothing about warfare. Britain actually focused heavily on infantry tanks because of the battlefield effectiveness, and because they could achieve this battlefield effectiveness on the cheap. A few Infantry Tanks dramatically improve the capabilities of the infantry, and the majority of your land forces are infantry.

Cruiser Tank

Once you have a gap in the enemy forces, you need to exploit it, and with tanks, that was the Cruiser Tank. The British put less emphasis on this or the simple reason that it was more finicky. If you wanted armour, firepower, AND speed, you had to pay a lot of money, and it is a lot more mechanically complicated. The other reason is that horses are a thing. In the modern day, a lot of the lighter tanks would be called armoured cars. In the standard video game rating, they would be light tanks.

Because people forget who created tanks in the first place.

Breakthrough Tank

One of the main categories that would get classified as Heavy Tank. The point of a Breakthrough Tank is to heavy enough to break through enemy lines. This goes back to the original Infantry Tank Mark I form WWI to the King Tiger.

Standoff Tank

A tank powerful enough to get shot by everything the enemy has, and still fight. The problem with this is that it's impossible. On one hand, there have always been infantry anti-tank weapons, and on the other.

Air. Pursuit, Fighters, Strike Fighters, Bombs, Attack Helicopters, Drones. The Germans had plans for tanks of ridiculous proportions, even one fitted with battleship guns called a Landkreuzer.

Of course, if it's sci-fi, and the tank is big enough to equip a forceshield from a smaller ship, then things might be different.

Battleship Tank

Another failed experiment. These are tanks with multiple turrets. Like regular battleships, it turns out having one big cannon is better than multiple ones. Interbellum forces also drastically overestimated how many machineguns are actually useful. One coaxial. Maybe one for the driver. Maybe a pintle mount for Ack-Ack.

Are they cool? Oh, God yes. Not that useful, however. But incredibly cool.

Tank Destroyer

When most people think German tank tactics, they think the Blitzkrieg. Which was the most effective use of tanks in Human history, along with the first use of combined arms and mechanized brigade groups. But, contrary to popular belief, none of the cool cats took part. It was mostly Panzers II's and III's. Panzer II's had a pair of single-shot 20mm cannons.

But, later on, the II's were worthless, and the III's simply could not keep up.

The answer was to use the III's hull, remove the turret, and add a howitzer. The original plan was to use it as a self-propelled gun to accompany a panzer unit. But, the StuG III was designed too well. It's lower profile made it a perfect tank killer.

You see, tanks aren't actually designed to fight other tanks. They do often have to, but tanks are designed to break through Infantry ranks.

Because you have more of them.

When the British got the Sherman, they started adding the 17 pounder (75mm), gun... to 1 out of 4 or 5. Each troop would have one, that would often sit in overwatch as the other tanks advanced.

But the StuG had such a low profile, which made it absolutely deadly when on the defensive. Like Germany was in the second half of the war.

Modern British tank tactics don't even have them fire on the move, (and this dramatically affects accuracy), meaning that tank destroyers could in theory be used. Which is why everyone gets so butt hurt when I call the S-tank a Tank Destroyer.

Assault Gun

Big gun strapped onto a tank hull, with an armoured casement put overtop.

What's the difference between an Assault Gun and a Tank Destroyer?

Entirely practical. In fact, the original tank destroyers, (Jagdpanzers), were created as an Assault Gun. Assault Guns can have much shorter barrels, which allows them to have bigger explosives.

Here's two variants of the Tiger I (PzKpfw VI), the Jagdtiger, and Sturmtiger.

The Jagdtiger has the longer barrel and is a Tank Destroyer, while the Sturmtiger used a rocket mortar, (modified from depth charges), and is an Assault Gun. These are two extreme of the same design, with many having a lot more overlap.

The StuG III was designed as an Assault Gun, but worked so well as a Tank Destroyer that it caused Germany to make tank destroyer variants of every subsequent tank, (during the war).

Reconnaissance (Recce)

or Recon for the Yankee Doodles

Less space for big guns, more space for scanners. Because post WWII we actually had scanners that were an improvement over the Mark I eyeball, and a lens or two for magnification. They will often have room for a small group of infantry to dismount, for the simple reason that infantry are smaller, and easier to hide. It could be done without a tank, (including dirt bikes), but force reconnaissance is a thing, and they better fit in with tank platoon.

Air Mobile

Nowadays, if someone designs a Light Tank, there's a good chance it's designed to be carried by one of their standard utility aircraft. Air mobile or airborne units will benefit from any vehicle you can get them. To be entirely honest, this has never really worked, and it's difficult to get something that can actually stop bullets. For the gun, they can replace it with soft-launched missiles or a bolt cannon, and still be viable.

Engineering

Team Fortress that engineers are there to build robots. While robots are becoming more and more common, there is a huge difference between Engineer (civilian), and Combat Engineers. Combat Engineers are there to create and remove obstacles.

This doesn't sound that bad, until you realize that the obstacles are probably close to enemy lines, and they will probable object to their removing.

With machineguns.

The standard way of turning a tank into an armoured engineering vehicle is to replace the cannon with a mortar. Even a giant mortar takes up a lot less room than a standard tank cannon, and you use that for explosives. Extra points for hotrodding the engine and/or adding a dozer blade.

Armoured Recovery Vehicles

Most people think that destroying a tank means making the thing explode, leaving nothing but burnt pixels in it's wake.

In truth, the best way to stop a tank is to damage it's tracks, damage the turret ring, or liquify the crew. It turns out the squishy Humans inside the tank are easier to kill than the tank itself.

So, now that you have a dead tank on the battlefield, you need to get it off the battlefield to some place less explodey to get it repaired.

While other vehicles could definitely be used, there are a few advantages to using a tank.

Armour (obviously), as the battlefield is usually not all that safe.

Tanks are often the biggest / heaviest things on the battlefield, making the tank hull + engine one of the only things that can actually move them.

It allows that tank unit to share logistics. Every type of vehicle you had add to tank company requires it's own logistics. If you can have utility, truck, and then one type of tank chassis, you are saving yourself a LOT of trouble.

Universal Carrier

Battlefields often have terrible infrastructure for vehicles. Shockingly. Sometimes having something on track with a bit of armour is the best way to move things.

Armoured Personel Carrier / Infantry Fighting Vehicle

These are two very different vehicles in practice, but very similar in description.

APC's are to carry your infantry to the battlefield. Without infantry, tanks are extremely vulnerable to enemy infantry.

IFV's are to carry your infantry to the battlefield, and then fight with them. In fact, the iconic Bradley has a 25mm autocannon. The "Light Tank" from Command and Conquer.

Main Battle Tank / Universal Tank

By most modern definitions, the only tank, and the insane furor that literally excludes the literal first tanks.

The Universal Tank maximizes the holy trinity of tank design: Armour, Firepower, and Mobility. And, as with everything else, trying to maximize everything is difficult and expensive. Germany in WWII could probably have built at least a half-dozen StuGs for every Tiger. The only reason why the Universal Tank is considered the exclusive proprietor of the word Tank is because we literally don't have to fight any real wars. In a real war, war industry, and when talking about tanks, how many tanks you can build, is crucially important. This is why in the Ukraine/Russia conflict, they are dusting off WWII and post-bellum tanks to throw into the fray.

And using the holy trinity of tank design ignores other issues, not just your ability to build them, but your ability to maintain them.

German tanks in the later war were infamous for breaking down.

Misc.

There is a wide variety of other, more specialist armoured vehicles. From artillery, to amphibious tanks, to fascine layers, to command tanks, to flamerthrowers, to mine layers/sweepers, etc.

[thoughtsandbones]

Doth thy demons dwelleth in the darkness too, my belov'd Reaper?

🚨WARNINGS: Mention of mental health illness mention, profanity, scars, fluff, anxiety, medical inaccuracies, blood, gore and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

I do not consent to any AI or anyone taking my work!

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

Word count: 6043K

Song inspo: Summer High - AP Dhillon, Don't Fear the Reaper - Blue Oyster Club, Sinner - The Last Dinner Party, The Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Legend soundtrack.

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

MASTERLIST

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15 I, PART 15 II and PART 16

Part 17

The tiny specs of dust floated amongst the surrounding atmosphere, highlighted in the beams of sunlight that penetrated your room. A few settled down on the frame still clutched in your hand, the gold frame sparkled from the light as you tilted it, staring deeper into the image of Simon. That mole on his jugular kept drawing you in, beneath the skin, the vein you thought for the past 13 years had been burnt to ash was actually flowing steadily. The deep crimson blood slithers from his brain back to his heart after all.

Could it honestly be that Ghost is Simon Riley... or Simon is Ghost... One in the same. You thought to yourself, you get up lay down on your bed, the framed photo at the tip of your round nose.

Time stood still for what felt like hours.

It would make total sense, he knew your old name. You recall the day you first met, when he said that name. The inscription of the former shell you shed. That person who you haven't been able to come to terms with. Unable to reclaim the innocence of not knowing the cruelty of mankind. The lust for war over land, oil, weapons or whatever it is people fight for nowadays...Unwilling to let go that guard you have down.

That mole drew you in again, displayed on the only available photo you have of him.

Did everyone else know...? Surely. Perhaps not... A supposed dead man displayed by a skull face was filled with irony. You couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Simon's smug face startling new and old people with this faux relic of his former self.

Checking your watch, you realise you spent perhaps too long wondering about the past. No time like the present to find out the answers to the questions that flushed through your synapses.

Gathering your selected files and papers, placing the gold frame on top, you put the lid back on the box and slide it back to its former spot. Placing the chosen contents in a spare tote bag, swinging it over your shoulder.

Glancing around your room you look at the knick knacks laying in their places. Collecting dust and time. The gemstones you once fiddled with when looking out the window laid dormant.

Heading back down, you meet Clarissa back in her car. Once back in the passenger seat, you feel a lightness overcome you.

If Ghost really is Simon Riley, then it means he had his own reasons to hide. After what brief knowledge you of have of his supposed death, a part of you understood. Yet there was a slight annoyance growing inside of you.

Clarissa noticed you pursing your lips and frowning as you lulled your head side to side with the smooth motion of the car. After contemplating whether or not to tell you about her encounter with Gaz, the cute sleauthe, to fill the quietness.

But she was reminded of your sudden snore coming from your mouth that you were a surgeon who dealt with an extremely serious injury, and then be ridiculed by the moronic Dr Jones.

As Clarissa drove up to the gate of base she called in a favour from a new friend, Kyle Garrick, to help with getting permission to drive up to the rear of building 2 so you could get back with ease to your quarters.

Clarissa was guided back to the emergency back entrance of Building 2, you woke suddenly with the familiar sound of a large tank thundering by. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and blinked several times, trying to focus them to know your exact location.

"Go get some sleep" Clarissa said as she gazed at you as your rubbed your temple.

"Been a long day" You scoff slightly and then yawn again.

"I'm gonna talk to your Captain about Jones and get something done" Clarissa said

You had heard what she said and nodded, unable to move your jaw to let the words escape.

Exiting the car you to wave Clarissa goodbye and then make your way back up to your room. As your reach your dear you look down the corridor and see the rough outline of Ghost's door...

Taking a deep breath you open your door, the tote bag carrying the gold frame and your documents swung as you strolled into your room. Closing the door behind you, placing the tote bag on one of the hooks and then stripping off your scrubs and crawl back into bed. Gathering the strewn duvet cover from when your were first paged nearly 2 hours ago.

As you cocooned yourself your mind went back to Ghost - or Simon Riley. How 3 hours ago he was shrouded in mystery. But now... You have an idea of who he really could be...

I hope it is you Simon you plead quietly within the emptiness of your room. Your aching bones and flesh beg into sink into the mattress, sleep came quickly this evening as the heaviness of your strung out body shut down.

...

Simon took another deep inhale, his tongue became even more drier as it touched the roof of his dry mouth. Trying to moisten his mouth with saliva, he swallowed the little that came out down. He looked up and realised he had fallen asleep in the shower. The white light of the bathroom pierced his still tired eyes. Simon adjusted his body and sat up straighter, his back bracing the cold white tiles.

With his left hand he touched the now dry bandage and sighed with relief. As he got up, the wound pulsated with pain across his abdomen. Finally, he was feeling the full physical effects of the mission. Simon examined his pale naked body in the mid sized mirror.

Bruises began to appear, especially on his stomach and right shoulder. He could make out the thick red imprint of his gun strap. Brushing his fingers across his shoulder, he felt grains of sand roll against his skin. Simon resorted into having to wash himself with a damp towel and small splashes of water. All in order to avoid the bandage and the wound you stitched together from getting wet.

After feeling far more fresher, Simon wore his comfiest black joggers and socks that had a little German shepherds embroidered on the cuff. Slowly he put on a black vest and then a grey zip up hoodie, but leaving it unzipped. He laid down on his bed and took in the calm silence.

The ringing in his ears came back suddenly; tinnitus. An ever so common issue for soldiers, especially given close contact with flash grenades. Simon tried to forget the images of a bloodied Soap out of his mind, but they, along with the many demons, echoed within his mind.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rapid knock on the door, Simon knew all too well that it was Price. Gently getting up he reached for a clean skull balaclava and put it on and sliding on his trainers.

Ghost opened the door and saw Price, also showered and refreshed, not with his signature boonie.

"Alrigh' Price?" he mumbled, as he leaned against his doorframe.

"Not bad, Soap is awake" Price said, giving a slight grin, which grew as he noticed Ghost's eyes widen.

"How is he?" Ghost says grabbing his keys and moving out of his room, zipping his hoodie as Price moved out the way.

"Alive and well. You can see him, Gaz is there right now" Price said as he watched Ghost lock his door and then turned to face him.

"Let's go"

"Have a good rest?" Price asked

"Somewhat" Ghost gruffed "Can Johnny walk?" He asked

Price chuckled and gave Ghost a light pat on his shoulder

"More than that, he's dishin' out gossip to anyone who would listen" Price huffed

"Really?" Ghost said confused. Hours ago Soap was near the edge of death, and now he is gossipping.

"You have to see it for yourself" Price said

Both Price and Ghost made their way to the ICU where Soap was recovering. And recovering well Ghost assumed as he heard the sergeants laugh fill his body with ease; finally safe and alive.

Ghost approached the edge of the bed, Soap and Gaz finished their conversation before turning their attention to him. Gaz gave him a brief nod.

"Lt! You finally came!" Soap exclaimed his arms reached out, both which had ECG cables coming out him. Ghost saw the biggest grin he had ever seen coming from Soap's bruised and grazed face.

"Johnny.." Ghost mumbled

"Can yer believe that I am alive?!" Soap said, spitting out a laugh, lightly clapping his hands together "For sure thought I was dead" Soap laughed again finally resting his arms from excessive movement on his stomach.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at Soap and crossed his arms. He was acting like he had just had a small tumble and not got shot in the back.

"How's the legs?" Ghost mumbled moving closer over to Soap.

Soap gripped the blue hospital blanket, pulling it up slightly and revealing his wiggling toes. Ghost felt another wave of relief ripple through him.

"Alright Soap, put your stinkers away" Gaz said poking at Soap's feet with his charts that he was looking through earlier.

"Pfft, wanna gimme a sponge bath Gaz?" Soap grinned at Gaz who looked back him disgustingly at the thought.

"Come off it Johnny" Ghost said shaking his head at Soap.

"I was only jokin' Lt!" Soap chuckled

Ghost took in Soap's face and the shared moment of relief and serenity with Price and Gaz. The team was safe, wounded and shocked in places but back in familiar territory.

Gaz sat back down and continued to chat about who would give Soap a sponge bath, asking Price how much or what would it take... Price huffed and said something along the lines of not even if my right leg was blown off.

The conversations between the three faded as Ghost grabbed a chair and sat down, observing his comrades.

"Hey Lt, you hear about Doc?" Soap said, turning his attention to him

"Eh?" Ghost grunted looking up at Johnny with narrowed eyes

"Well, I was laying here, recovering, just woke up from the coma" He starts

'Wasn't a coma mate" Gaz said, Soap ignored him

"I hear a conversation slowly drift into my ears as I lay here recoverin'" Soap continued

"Ah he's telling the long version" Gaz interrupted and quickly went silent as Soap shot him an evil look.

"That Jones fella apparently paged Doc 999 - ICU.. Bless her soul, she must've thought I was dyin' again" Soap said sympathetically towards Ghost, whose eyes were still narrowed at him.

"Runs down here, and Doc notices my intubattery is out"

"Intubation tube" Gaz corrected stifling a laugh with his hand.

"Spit out the short version Johnny, I ain't got all day listenin' to fairy tales" He said sighing

"Pfft thought yer'd be nicer to be me since I am recoverin'" Soap spitted, point to his back.

"Basically, Jones paged Hari on the basis of doing an unauthorised surgery and said to show him her qualifications" Gaz summarised

"Oi, I was tellin' a story here!" Soap shouted, and flung a piece of apple at Gaz from his tray.

"Cut it out Soap" Price said and Soap promptly had a guilty look on his face.

"Wait, what?" Ghost said, straightening up in the chair

"Jones think she committed medical fraud" Price said

"But she saved 'im" Ghost said, throwing his hand out to Johnny

"Aye she did, oh forgot to mention the part Jones said she went psychotic at Foxham"

"Soap.." Price said sternly

"I didn't say anthin'" Soap exclaimed

"You say a lot shit Johnny" Ghost said "What you mean psychotic?" He added

"She apparently had a mental-" Soap started

"Alright, that's enough" Price stepped in "It's all been sorted" he added

"Is she leavin'?" Ghost asked, worry began to tremble through him.

What if you left before he could tell you who he was?

"No, she's staying." Price said

"Good" Ghost said aloud, then realised he said that aloud.

"Takin' a likin' to her ey Lt?" Soap said, giving him a mischievous grin.

Ghost looked away from Soap, he could feel his cheeks and neck getting hot.

"Not the only one" Gaz said, leaning back in his chair looking at Ghost and Soap with a grin. Both looked at eachother.

"I said she was pretty, I'm not in love with her" Soap shouted back at Gaz

As Gaz continued to tease Soap, Ghost got up and put the chair back

"You going?" Price asked

"Yeah" Ghost said moving closer to Price "Might see Doc, see if she's alrigh'?" He added

"She's knocked out at the moment, give her a till tomorrow" Price said and Ghost nodded.

"You goin-" Price started

"Give me 5 days." Ghost said looking straight at Price, who nodded and smiled, he gave him a light pat on the shoulder and let him go.

During the walk back to his room, Ghost made a promise to himself, to you.. 5 days, Ghost checked his watched, it was the 8th of October, 5 days would make it October 13th... He soon realised what day that was; the day The Captain died.

...

Finally after a good sleep, you were feeling slightly better. Yet the inner itch of anxiety trickled down your nerves anytime you heard the words Jones said to you...

"Heard you went psychotic whilst on shift."

Everytime that sentenced pierced your grey matter, your body shuddered, an attempt to rid the thought.

The hot droplets of water scattered across your naked body, taking your bamboo loofah, scrubbing your apple soap, creating a nice lather. You watch the bubbles accumulate as you scrub clean the sweat, the gunk trapped in crevices and bringing new life to the skin.

The fresh apple scent uplifted you, in combination with the hot shower, you felt like you could melt away...

But the oncoming thoughts of the revelation made the previous day flooded your thoughts.

Why would he take so damn long? You thought as you scrubbed over your knee and then down your calf.

But in your mind, you reasoned with yourself.. If you had been betrayed and then supposedly burnt alive you would keep that a secret. Anonymity was literally his name. Ghost

There... But not there really.

Getting out the shower, the cold morning breeze drifted into the bathroom, hitting your fresh skin.

After getting ready you made your way to the mess hall. As you locked the door, you gazed down the corridor to Ghost's room. Checking your watch it was 9:36 am, he would most likely be doing paperwork or something...

Heading down to the mess hall, it was there in the near empty hall you saw Ghost sitting alone on a lunch bench, a cup in front of him. As you both locked eyes, your mouth instantly curved into the biggest grin as you stared at the man hiding beneath the mask.

Your mischievous big grin made Ghost wary of you suddenly as he saw you walk in the mess hall, grabbing breakfast.

Something is up he thought to himself

Watching as you grabbed some breakfast, he kept his eyes on you until you sat right in front of him.

"Morning Lieutenant" You said, trying to not say Simon... Another grin appears.

"Mornin' Doc" He said, puzzled still by your big grin.

He watched as you slowly tilted your head to the side, strands your long brown hair falling too, as if you were analysing his inner workings. Trying to figure him out

"Is it your turn now doin' the starin'?" Ghost huffed, folding his arms

"Hmm perhaps" You replied

Ghost grumbled and looked down at his near empty tea in his mug.

"How's your injury?" You added as he remained silent, now it was his turn to stare at you.

"Fine. Better" He said.

"Good" You said, sucking in some air. You could feel some tension rising between you.

"Heard about Jones" He said, breaking the silence

You look at him, shocked at the bluntness.

"How did you-" You started

"Soap" Ghost said

"Soap?" You questioned "He's awake?!" You exclaimed

"Yeah, he's all good, you did a great job" He said, his eyes softened as he met your curious brown eyes.

"Good..." You say, taking a sip of coffee "What did he say about Jones?"

"Something happened at your old hospital" Ghost said, studying your face for any reaction.

"Yes..." You whispered, dreading the conversation that will follow.

Ghost took a deep breathe in.

"Tomorrow, we need to resume trainin'. Assume you've been doin' some since we've been away" He said changing the subject.

Shocked that he wasn't going to question you, you smiled briefly at him.

"Yeah, definitely, and yes, been training with the martial arts team on base too" You replied

"We shall see how well you can spar tomorrow" Ghost said.

He picked up his mug and said his goodbyes. He knew not to pressure you into giving him information he desperately wanted to know.

Within your own darkness, you seem to be hidin' your own demons too Ghost thought as he walked out.

...

It had only been a 3 days since Ghost, aka Simon Riley, had his deep wound stitched up, and yet he was persistent on picking back up the training, especially hand to hand combat training.

It was no surprise, the Simon you remember was proficient in unarmed combat. Now added with his Ghost persona, daunting others in his stride.

Each time you greeted each other in front of the training room he booked out, you'd ask him how he was.

"Alrigh'" He gruffed

That was his usual response. You didn't want to annoy him any further so you bit your tongue.

Finally, on the fourth day of training, you pinched a nerve with Ghost when you kept repeatedly asking if he was okay and if his wound be able to handle a beating or two.

"So far, I've overthrown you... 7 out of 8 times past three days" He snapped at you, blue eyes narrowed at you.

"Pretty sure it's 6" You replied bluntly as you recall the time you were jumping repeatedly to try and pull him over.

"7" Ghost retorted crossing his arms and stepping closer to you

"You are twice the mass of any normal combatant" You say rolling your eyes edging over to the mat.

"Well if you could knock me over, then it'd be easier knocking normal people" Ghost said following you onto the mat, and got into his ready position as you did the same.

He watched as your face changed, the fire suddenly lit behind the eyes as you narrowed your eyebrows. Waiting for your move, because he knew you would lunge first with a kick. And you did, he used his right arm to swat it away as if the oncoming kick was a fly. He took in satisfaction from your frustration at his easy block.

"Too predictable" Ghost muttered as he circled you slowly.

Taking a deep inhale you let out a deep sigh

"I don't have the upper body strength to take you down" You hurled back at him

"Just try it" He calmly said

Pulling your arms closer to your chest and face, jolting forward and giving a right punch. Ghost dodges.

Ghost decides to up the game and throws a punch, you duck and attempt to trip him with your legs again. He sighs and raises his leg in an attempt to kick you but you block with your right arm and side of the body, with your left arm you grab his thigh but Ghost quickly uses his upper arm to push you back - you stumble with the amount of force he put with such ease.

"Good attempt" He groaned as he stretched his neck and arms. where the muscles laid too defined under his scarred pale skin.

Meanwhile you were panting for air like anything. Walking off the mats you grab your flask and take a quick swig from it. The water replenishes the dryness of your mouth.

"Ready for another round?" Ghost asks, and you swear you heard a glimmer of laughter

Turning around placing the flask down in its own spot, wiping away droplets of water from the edge of your mouth, walking back up to the mats and face Ghost, getting back in your stance.

Lunging first again, you manage to hit Ghost and block one of his oncoming punches. Using his thigh as a stool, you jump up and twist round to his back and wrap your legs around his shoulders hooking your feet against his lower back, trying to use your core to tip him over, but you just ended spinning yourself to his front, feeling you slip, Ghost instinctively grabbed hold of your waist, keeping you from falling and snapping your neck.

"Ain't ya gonna listen to me and not use your legs?" He said gruffly

A small groan come out from your mouth.

His calloused fingers of his right hand grazed the brown skin beyond the edge of the joggers you wore. His grip around your hips tightened as he felt you relaxing your upper body, yet the grip with your legs over his shoulders remained.

He heard you panting slightly as you hung below him. Your tank top rose, unveiling more of the warm smooth brown skin. Like magnets, his eyes took in the vulnerability of your position as you hung casually.

You're gonna pounce he thought, planting himself and engaging his core, his wound although padded and nearly healed (Ghost thought) throbbed dully.

Yet you lay still. Ghost peered down at you again, his eyes laid on your breasts, between them he quickly looked at your chin and then the edge of your round nose. For a moment, he let himself glance at your breasts and then trailed up from your ribs to the protruding skin, a bronze glow as a beam of light bathed that region... Within his chest a ripple formed that gave him ease. His eyes wandered back up to the legs wrapped around his shoulders.

Taking your vulnerability to his advantage; Ghost grabs you right arm with his left and pulls you up and then over him. He heard you yell in disbelief as you were flung over him.

His right hand was no longer securely on your waist but now grasping your right inner thigh, making you lose grip over his shoulder.

Falling on your back you groaned with growing agitation as he threw you down.

"Was that necessary?" You groaned

"I ain't a damn tree" He snapped back, surveying you as you sat crossed legged down on the mat. The black tank top was perfectly fitted, showing your toned arms as you leant back. Ghost looked away and turned his back slightly

"Built like one" You muttered to yourself quietly and get back up up, rubbing your sore back and shoulder.

"Look, come here" Ghost said, rubbing his the skin underneath his mask, then motioned with his hand.

You came closer, and he took hold of your right arm gently.

"Form a fist" He said still holding your arm as you tightened the muscles lying beneath the skin.

"Good" Ghost said, and you looked up at into eyes blue eyes. Simon's blue eyes. As your eyes meet you feel a sharp zing bolt across you, quickly glancing back down to your fist, the feeling spread down to where he held your arm.

"Now, hit me with your upper arm-" He began and proceeded to move that part closer to your body "close like this" he added, and look down at you, meeting your eyes once again.

"'Kay" You sighed, engaging your core.

"Use your arms this time" Ghost repeated and gave a nod for you to go ahead.

You aim for Ghost's chest, he dodges, you attempt again to hit him with your left hand and you hit his chiseled torso.

"Good" he said "Block and defen' now" he added, and he lunged forward suddenly, delivering quick and sharp punches.

You block two, and then grab his right arm, and attempt to hurl him over, but due to his large size he remained where stood.

Thrusting your backside into him to try and get a bit of momentum, but he stood still.

Ghost felt slightly awkward as you kept getting close to his front, he felt your back, especially your bum, hitting his cock. He took a step back and turned his waist to the side, yet you followed his move in attempt to try and bring him down. With his left hand, he wrapped around your waist and lifted you up over his head.

"Not again!" You yelled as Ghost you mid air. He chuckled slightly as he brought you down but you swung your left leg around the back of his waist to try and swivel yourself out of his hold.

"Stop!" He yelled as he lost his balance and you let go of his waist with your leg, but still held onto his right arm. The sudden change in weight and momentum made Ghost fall right on top of you. Your face slammed into the mat, and lips making contact with the grit on the mat, saliva sputtered out as you groaned with annoyance and tiredness.

Ghost lifted himself off of you, he noticed your bare shoulders, as your tank top had a strap in the middle, exposing the tattoo he saw briefly one time on your left shoulder.

As you panted on the mat, Ghost stood on one knee over you and examined the different four flowers coming out of what looked like a skull. He gazed at the black monochromatic skull; an odd reflection of the skull he wore over his own.

He moved back and up, watching as your back muscles flexing as you pushed yourself up from the mat.

"Last round?" You say, wiping your hands together to get rid of the grit from the mats.

"Until you knock me over then it'll be the last roun'" He said, standing in the centre of the mat. Stretching his arms over his head and gazing back at you.

You meet his blue eyes again. Part of you so badly wanted to run up, jump and take his mask off and be huzzah! But that would be a total invasion of personal space and you figured he'd just toss you back to the ground as soon as you made any move.

Best bet is to keep on the defensive mode... Wait for him to strike

After about a minute of circling one another, Ghost struck first, punches that struck you on the side, yet you began to dodge them, delivering punches in return.

"Finally" Ghost said aloud, as he looked at your delivery of punches, few which he blocked and few a he took. He looked deep into your brown eyes, full of focus and determination.

Throwing more punches, blocking and then attacking.

"Good" Ghost said again and he swung out his right leg, doing a high kick and you block it and try to toss him over. It didn't work. Instead you let go his leg, and he swiveled trying to kick you again, you blocked and then remembered a move... A sudden rush of adrenaline charged through your blood.

With his back turned, it was then with your right leg that as you quickly crouched, hooking it around Ghost's left leg causing him to stumble, allowing you the edge to push his back with your left hand.

As Ghost fell forward he felt your hand grip his right ankle flipping him over like a pancake onto his back. Before he could fight back, you lunged on top of him, pinning his left arm with your right leg and your right hand near his throat. Your left knee was placed just on his hip, just the right amount of pressure to prevent him from getting up.

It was one of his signature moves. The surprise attack he would often use from behind.

How could you.. But then he remembered... Simon...

Him

You learnt it from him.

You kept him pinned down in the same position, forcing your entire weight on the points you held him down by. Boring your eyes into his. You could see the remaining black painting creased as he squinted his eyes at you.

"Gonna get off me?" He growled, hoping that would intimidate you.

Yet you persisted. Keeping the same stern look you stared at him. Tightening the grip you had on his right arm.

Annoyance began to grow in Ghost. But then he figured if you knew, then this was the consequences of his own making.

Your fingers were splayed against his throat covered by his skull balaclava. There was a terrible temptation to how badly you wanted to slide your fingers underneath, revealing the mole on his skin that covered his jugular.

What colour was it?

Smooth and circular or rough like potato. What shape is the mole?

As you thought of the mole, your grip began to tighten slightly on Ghost's throat.

Ghost felt his anxiety building inside as she tightened her grip on his throat.

How could I be so fuckin' stupid Ghost thought to himself, he pushed himself up but you were exerting all your strength into keeping him where he is.

"Do you know?" he croaked

"I know a lot of things, to which are you referring to?" You retorted

"Hmm" Ghost groaned, he shifted again under you, yet you remained.

"The day we first met.." You started, thinking carefully of the way you were wording your thoughts. Ghost eyes widened, becoming more attentive.

"Go on.." He said

"You said my old name, how did you know?" You asked, eyes narrowing at Ghost, hoping to catch him

"Looked through a file" Ghost lied quickly. Unable to bring himself to tell the truth.

You smirked, eyes narrowing further.

"Nah, pretty sure the Captain redacted my name"

Ghost drew all of his strength, he managed to get his right leg up and with his knee shifted his weight so that you stumbled off of him as he turned over.

"What you gettin' at?" He said getting up off the mat, lending out his right hand to help you up. You take it, and Ghost helps pull you up.

You know.. Ghost thought to himself as he watched you study his face

"I think I know who you are.." You whispered

Ghost felt a cold tinge begin within him, he crossed his arms over his chest, partly to stop his shaking hands being in view.

"Who am I?" He asked, stepping a bit closer to you

You take a deep breath.

"Simon Riley"

At the moment, Ghost's entire body went cold. What felt like an electric shock bolted in his body.

He was lost for words.

"What makes you think that?" He asked

"You have a mole on your neck, and Simon also had a mole" You stated, wanting to be done with the mind games and for him to take his mask off.

"Had?" Simon asked "Must mean he's dead"

"Supposedly dead" You said slyly.

"How'd you know this Simon had a mole?" Ghost asked, fully relishing in the moment of teasing you. He could sense the gears working overtime in your brain.

"I have a photo" You snapped "And I'll show it to you" You said, walking off the mats.

You were tired of the running around the questions. Answers were needed. As you looked behind you, Ghost began to follow your footsteps as you lead the way.

...

Ghost followed you into your room and closed the door behind you.

You pulled out the gold from that had the photo of the five soldiers, staring at it one last time before handing it over to Ghost.

Looking down at the image in the frame, Ghost recognised the Captain, you and a younger version of himself.

There he was. Simon Riley, before the betrayal, before the chaos and when he had a family. When he had a life outside the military.

Ghost looked up at you, your face still had the same stern look, he could tell that you wished it was the same Simon under this mask, the same Simon that was in the framed photo.

Standing in front of Ghost, he was leant back against the wall. The foreboding skull face whose eyes still protruded glared at you. Every now and then those blue eyes blink, replenishing the moisture of his lense covered in black paint ridden skin.

"I thought you were bacon"

"Bacon?" Ghost said in surprise

You tilt your head up, and watch as Ghost - no Simon - cock his head to the side, taking in an inhale as he shifts his weight about.

"Fried to a crisp" You muttered

"That ain't bacon love" He retaliated

You mouth curved when he said love... A cold pleasant feeling rippled through you.

"Is it you?" You ask, voice-breaking slightly, you could feel your eyes beginning ot sting as tears formed.

Ghost sighed, he placed the golden frame upright onto the set of drawers near him. He reached with his slightly trembling fingers, grasping the edge of his mask and took it off.

Your heart skipped a bit, mouth opening wide as the person finally revealed was alive.

"Simon" You murmured, stepping closer to him. It wasn't the same Simon in the photo. His blonde hair was not so blonde, dirtier blond-brown, and was messy and long on the sides. His jaw was covered in stubble, and as you stepped closer your could see scars scattered over his face; one over his nose that ran near his left eye, another across his cheek. His eyes looked tired, but the black paint didn't help.

Taking in every detail, you scan his face. Your mouth curved as you savoured this precious moment. Unable to stop the tears and the tightness in your chest as you got close to him. Simon.

Simon watched as the tears that fell from your eyes finally trickled down your cheek, dropping down to the floor that held them both in this moment of silence. He reached out for your hand and pulled you closer to him.

He took in your sorrow, guilt riddled him like an aching virus. He brought his hands up, his fingers tracing the bronze skin that glowed in the candlelight, trailing his forefinger and thumb against your skin, taking in the softness. Simon sighed and bowed his head slightly, he looked up and saw more tears coming from your eyes, wiping them away with his thumb. The rough palms grasped the nape of your neck, lulling your head back as he weaved his fingers through your brown hair. Simon gazed back, and closed his eyes placing his forehead against yours, his cold sharp nose tip pressing into your round nose.

"Ru" He whispered finally, his eyes still closed, yet he felt your wet lashes flicker against his.

"Simon" You croaked, and sighed deeply into him, Simon felt you relax and pulled in close to him, wrapping his warm strong arms tighter around you. Taking in the comfort as you melted into him.

Each inhale brought in a mix of cinnamon, musk, cigarettes and sweat. A perfect elixir that soothed your melancholy.

"Didn't mean to take so long" Simon gruffed

"I knew something was up" You said, sniffling as you pulled away, wiping the tears away with your wrist. Looking up at Simon, who still held you close to him.

"I just needed time" Simon said, his forehead touched yours has he took another inhale, a weight finally lifted off him.

Reaching around his waist, you wrap your arms tight.

"You took your time, then I took the shot" You said chuckling slightly into him. His grip on you tightened and you could feel him laugh a little too.

As Simon held you in his embrace, thankful that you were not mad, he finally felt his inner demons quell within the darkness that had put a hold on him for far too long.

[lilundeadarchangel]

Okay I need to tell you a sick ass experience I had yesterday because I'm still so excited every time I think about it. It's CoD related:D and I have the best fucking friends in the world.

My birthday was the 22th of February, but my mom organized this little party with my friends so that we could celebrate it together.

Anyway, I have this group of friends I cosplay CoD characters with, and since they live a little far away from where I live, I was sure they couldn't be there, except for one. I was sad, but I was happy about that one friend that cosplays Ghost, so we thought about doing a cool entrance with him in cosplay being my sort of bodyguard, doing something cool y'know?

Well, I arrive there, and then he texts me that he had problems on the way and would arrive late. I immediately knew the entrance idea was ruined, so I just walked down the stairs, and when I entered the room the party was the other guests were there, and I was obviously happy.

But here is when the thing happens: I hear the Modern Warfare II's theme starting to play, and I was shocked and confused af because that was the music me and my friend would do the entrance with, but I knew he wouldn't be there. I was wrong. Because when I turn around I see my friend walking towards me in full Ghost mode and put on this sort of kidnapping/arrest show(the coolest fucking thing) putting me down in my knees as another one put a blindfold on my eyes. There were smoke and lights and as I heard the music I just continued to smile even though I was confused and didn't know what the fuck was happening.

Then the blindfold was off and I see them: the friends I thought wouldn't be there that night, all in front of me, some in cosplay(OG Ghost, 22 Ghost, König and Makarov by my side), some not, looking down at me. I literally couldn't belive it and I started crying(pov I didn't stop for the whole night) and immediately hugged them as tight as possible. Later I found out that my mum and them have been organizing this surprise for me for the past two months and I didn't know anything. Anything.

It was literally the best moment of my life. I've never been happier than when I saw them and one of them pulled me up and they all hugged me as I cried. Also they gifted me a rifle for my cosplay with a big ass pink ribbon on it. Fucking perfect.

My friend that cosplays OG Ghost gave me the weapon and said"This is yours. König can't go around without his rifle, you know that right?" And I had the biggest smile I've ever had in my life and I've never felt more loved.

I love my friends so much.

[viktorviolettaenterprises]

Finnish Army WW2 Light Tanks

One Of My Patron Request and Also Part Of Great Projects about Weapons and Heavy Machinery That Used During Winter War (1939-1940) & Continuation War (1941-1944) About The Finland Wars Against Soviet During during early and later Stages Of World War 2. For Your Informations Finnish Army During WW2 Heavy Machinery During Winter Wars Are Rely On Captured Soviets Tanks, Obsolete WW1 Products  Or Licensed Products From Allied Countries Disclaimer:Due Heavy Censorship Regarding Swastika Usage in Western Society, The Details of The Tanks Are Replaced With Roundel Instead of Finnish Hakaristi. However It Just A Minor Details that May Missed.

DOWNLOAD Support Me In Patreon for Exclusive Business Agreement Or Support Me In Paypal For One-Time Support

BT-5 Light Tank The BT tanks (Russian: Быстроходный танк/БТ, romanized: Bystrokhodnyy tank, lit. "fast moving tank" or "high-speed tank") were a series of Soviet light tanks produced in large numbers between 1932 and 1941. They were lightly armoured, but reasonably well-armed for their time, and had the best mobility of all contemporary tanks. The BT tanks were known by the nickname Betka from the acronym, or its diminutive Betushka. The successor of the BT tanks was the famous T-34 medium tank, introduced in 1940, which would replace all of the Soviet fast tanks, infantry tanks, and medium tanks in service. 

This Particular Variant is BT-5: Armed larger cylindrical turret, 45 mm 20-K gun, coaxial DT machine gun. Earlier tanks used simpler fully cylindrical bolted turrets with rear bustle welded on. 

BT-42 Light Tank During the WWII, the Finnish Army utilized captured Soviet tanks as their significant armament. Among these was the BT-42 assault gun which the Finnish Army created by pairing the hull from a captured Russian BT-7 Model 1937 light tank with a British 114mm howitzer and a redesigned BT-7's large boxy turret. 18 units were produced from 1943 to 1944 and they were deployed to the Svir River region to attack the Russian bastion. In June 1944 during the Battle of Vyborg, BT-42s saw fierce combat against advancing Russian forces.

Renault FT-17 Light Tank 

The Renault FT (frequently referred to in post-World War I literature as the FT-17, FT17, or similar) was a French light tank that was among the most revolutionary and influential tank designs in history. The FT was the first production tank to have its armament within a fully rotating turret. The Renault FT's configuration (crew compartment at the front, engine compartment at the back, and main armament in a revolving turret) became and remains the standard tank layout. Consequently, some armoured warfare historians have called the Renault FT the world's first modern tank.  Over 3,000 Renault FT tanks were manufactured by French industry, most of them in 1918. After World War I, FT tanks were exported in large numbers. Copies and derivative designs were manufactured in the United States (M1917 light tank), in Italy (Fiat 3000) and in the Soviet Union (T-18 tank). The Renault FT saw combat during the interwar conflicts around the world, but was considered obsolete at the outbreak of World War II. 

This Model Armed with Puteaux SA 1918  37 mm gun While The Other , Equipped With 8mm Hotchkiss Mle 1914 Machine gun for Anti-Personnel Purpose (Not Showed in Review)

KhT-130 

KhT-130 is Flamethrower variant of model 1933 which is Variant Of Soviet T-26 Tank, The Most Successful and Most Modular Pre-WW2 Light Tanks  using a larger 45 mm gun turret (a gun was replaced with a flamethrower for Anti-Personnel Purpose).

Landsverk L-62 Anti II 

Landsverk L-62, also known as Landsverk Anti II or a combination of both, Landsverk L-62 Anti II, was a Swedish self-propelled anti-aircraft gun construction that was specifically designed for Finland by Landsverk between 1941 and 1942. 

The vehicle was an improved Landsverk L-62 Anti I where the turret and chassis had been improved for better protection. The chassis was based on the Landsverk L-60 tank but was lengthened with one extra roadwheel per side. The turret was circular and open for a better view against planes. The gun was a 40 mm Bofors L/60 anti-air gun which was already in service with the Finnish military as the 40 ItK/38.

Vickers Mark E 

The Vickers 6-ton tank or Vickers Mark E, also known as the "Six-tonner" was a British light tank designed as a private project at Vickers. It was not adopted by the British Army, but was picked up by many foreign armed forces. It was licensed by the Soviet Union as the T-26. It was also the direct predecessor of the Polish 7TP tank. 

Hotchkiss H39 Light Tank (German:PzKpfw 38H-735) 

The Hotchkiss H39 (a variant of the Hotchkiss H35) was captured and used by Germany as the PzKpfw 38H-735.

The Hotchkiss H35, or Char léger modèle 1935 H, was a French light tank developed prior to World War II. Despite having been designed from 1933 as a rather slow, but well-armored, light infantry support tank, the type was initially rejected by the French Infantry because it proved difficult to steer while driving cross-country, and was instead adopted in 1936 by the French Cavalry. In 1938, an improved version was produced with a stronger engine, the Char léger modèle 1935 H modifié 39, that from 1940 was also fitted with a longer, more powerful 37 mm gun. It was intended to make this improved variant the standard light tank, and was to be produced in a number of at least four thousand in order to equip new armored divisions of both the Cavalry and the Infantry. However, due to the defeat of France in June 1940, total production of both subtypes remained limited to about 1200 vehicles. For the remainder of the war, Germany and its allies would use captured Hotchkiss tanks in several modifications. 

Hotchkiss H39 Light Tank (German:Panzerkampfwagen 38H 735(f)) 

Variants of A Captured Hotchkiss H39 Tank by German, Outfitted with Nebelwerfer 42, A 30mm German Rockets.

Soviet T-50 

The T-50 was a light infantry tank built by the Soviet Union at the beginning of World War II. The design for this vehicle had some advanced features, but was complicated and expensive, and only a short production run of 69 tanks was completed. 

Soviet T-26 

The T-26 tank was a Soviet light infantry tank used during many conflicts of the 1930s as well as during World War II. It was a development of the British Vickers 6-Ton tank and is widely considered one of the most successful tank designs of the 1930s. It was produced in greater numbers than any other tank of the period, with more than 11,000 produced. During the 1930s, the USSR developed approximately 53 variants of the T-26, including other combat vehicles based on its chassis. Twenty-three of these were mass-produced. The T-26 was used extensively in the armies of Spain, China and Turkey. In addition, captured T-26 light tanks were used by the Finnish, German, Romanian and Hungarian armies. Though nearly obsolete by the beginning of World War II, the T-26 was the most important tank of the Spanish Civil War and played a significant role during the Battle of Lake Khasan in 1938 as well as in the Winter War in 1939-40. The T-26 was the most numerous tank in the Red Army's armored force during the German invasion of the Soviet Union in June 1941. The Soviet T-26 light tanks last saw use in August 1945, in Manchuria. The T-26 was reliable and simple to maintain, and its design was continually modernized between 1931 and 1941, with a total of 11,218 vehicles built. However, no new models of the T-26 were developed after 1940. 

Soviet T-26E 

Variant Of Soviet T-26 tank with additional armour plating (appliqué armour). Some modern sources mention this tank as T-26E (E stands for ekranirovanny or "screened"). The Factory No. 174 developed the design of 30–40 mm appliqué armour for all types of single-turreted T-26s during the Winter War. On 30 December 1939, factory tests proved that the T-26 with appliqué armour successfully resisted fire from a 45 mm anti-tank gun at a range from 400 to 500 m. Side and front armoured plates were mounted with the use of blunt bolts and electric welding. Toward the middle of February 1940, the RKKA received 27 screened T-26 mod. 1939 tanks and 27 KhT-133 flame-throwing tanks; an additional 15 T-26 mod. 1939 tanks were armoured by workshops of the 8th Army in Suoyarvi in the beginning of March 1940. All in all, 69 T-26s with appliqué armour were used during the Winter War and 20 more were delivered to tank units after the end of the war. Combat use proved that Finnish light anti-tank guns could not penetrate the armour of these tanks.

[amongthebooks]

streetlights in the dark blue (i’d no choice but to love you)

FANDOM: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (Reboot)

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley / John 'Soap' MacTavish (SoapGhost)

WORD COUNT: 3.3k (Also on AO3)

TAGS/CW: angst with a happy ending, car accident, (unconventional) marriage proposal, hurt/comfort, established relationship, hurt Simon "Ghost" Riley, protective John "Soap" MacTavish

SNIPPET:

Ghost could feel how he had gotten flung on impact. Enough that, looking past his outstretched arm, he could see a small velvet box that had sprung open. The shine of a small metallic object catching his eye as he realized what exactly was sitting out unprotected in the roadway. The ring. or After months of careful planning, Ghost had finally worked up the courage to propose to Soap. Deciding to pop the question while off on a nighttime walk, he made sure that everything was perfect. Though life seemed to have a different plan when Ghost was suddenly struck by a car. -Inspired by Hozier’s Abstract (Psychopomp)-

psy·cho·pomp

/ˈsīkōˌpämp/

noun

the spiritual guide of a living person's soul.

----------

Tonight was the night. 

Countless hours of planning, of sneaking off base, of meetings with his Captain, and a few too many nights spent overthinking - he was finally going to do it.

Ghost was going to propose.

He and Soap had been together for a year, though they had been by each other’s side for more. The way they fit together, both on and off the field, just felt so right, in a way that nothing else ever did. 

If Ghost was being honest with himself, he was ready to take this next step within the first month of their relationship. It still took his breath away whenever he thought about it. How, despite everything he was, everything that had happened to him, Soap still looked at him like he hung the stars.

Ghost was surprised when they made things official. It had taken him a while to understand that Soap wanted him for him, and not just for the masked persona that Ghost was. 

He wasn’t a great man. He wasn’t even a good one. 

For years, he assumed that he was unlovable, that he was always meant to be a weapon and nothing more. But then Soap entered his life, and he was so grateful. 

Johnny, who was always so patient. Johnny, who never forced him to explain his past. Johnny, who never showed him anything but love and affection. 

It made everything worth it. Though he had been through years of torment and endless amounts of shit, years of debating if he should even bother sticking around, he was glad that he did.

For it brought them together. 

If someone had told Ghost all those years ago that the fiery scot he met on the tarmac would be the man he’d fall for? That he’d be the man he wished to spend the rest of his life with? The specter would have let out his first real laugh in years. 

The change had taken months, having gone through the entire mess that was tracking down Hassan and running rogue through the streets of Las Almas for him to understand the foreign feelings that he felt for the man. He could joke as much as he wanted about the field manual and his cold heart, but he was genuinely so glad that Johnny came into his life. 

It was no secret that his years before Soap were spent detached from the world. The persona he brought back from Mexico acted as his shield after Roba. A way to protect himself from ever getting hurt again, committing to being the strong and emotionless soldier that everyone expected from him. 

When he looked back on it now, it was with a feeling of dejection. Too much of his time had been spent as a shell of a man, as someone who was constantly reliving his trauma. He’s since made his peace with his past. As much as he could, anyway.

He would always remember the majority of his life as a time of great sadness - his childhood, losing his family, the cartel, all of it. Yet he didn’t grieve it anymore. Instead, it was all treated as old facts, events that had long since come and gone. There was nothing he could do about the past, but he could actively try to improve his future. Lord knows he deserved it after the shit he had been through. 

And he knew his life was better with Soap in it. 

His plan was full proof. See, the two had developed a nightly routine to go on a short walk with each other. Save for when they were actively on a mission, they never failed to get together for one last moment before heading to sleep. Finding that it helped to quell their minds after a challenging day, or times when their old memories decided to rear their ugly heads. 

It especially helped with Ghost’s insomnia. The outside air, the sound of the world around him, Soap’s soft voice speaking next to him - it all helped him settle in for the night. 

Most importantly, though, was that it could act as the perfect opportunity to ask Soap to marry him. 

So that’s where they found themselves. Ghost leading Soap through the streets of Manchester on their nightly stroll, trading the on-base scenery for a more lively setting while on leave. Soap thought nothing of the fact that Ghost seemed more insistent to head out that night. Pushing up their normal time by an hour or two and hurriedly helping the man get his boots and coat on. If anything, he assumed Ghost was having a particularly rough night, and he was more than willing to accommodate. 

Ghost didn’t know exactly when he’d get down on one knee during the walk, planning the actual act always left too many butterflies in his stomach. But he figured he’d know the moment when it came. He’d do it when the time felt right.

And so they walked together. Hands entertained in one of Ghost’s coat pockets, as a velvet box weighted down the other. 

Ghost felt Soap nudge him as they came upon a small park, pointing to where it sat on the nearby hill. He had a soft grin on his face as they paused to watch a group of kids playing football, hearing the shouts and giggles that accompanied their match. 

Soap soon broke into a short story, explaining how the children reminded him of himself when he was younger, how he was one hell of a player before he whisked himself away for the military. 

It was nice to watch the children play, peaceful, in its own way. 

Domestic, even. 

Ghost pulled Soap close, the smaller man stumbling as his hands found purchase on the other’s hips, swaying them together. Soap grinned as he more firmly wrapped Simon in his arms. “Thank you for coming with me.”

The other man looked around in confusion, “To the park?” His head was tilted to the side, eyebrow raised, “You already forget that I’m the reason for the walk, Johnny? I’d hardly say that’s a cause for thanks.”

Soap let out a chuckle as he bumped into Ghost’s side. “No, I meant on leave with me. Price wanted me to take a break after that shit show of a mission they sent me on. But I would’ve been fine alone, you know? You didn’t have to follow me, let alone offer up your apartment.”

Ghost leaned down until their foreheads connected, feeling the cold wet of their noses where they touched. His face was bare tonight, testing out the freedom of not wearing a mask when he was just Simon - especially when the dark of night hid his features well enough. He was glad for the decision now, content in feeling the way Soap’s skin felt on his own. 

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, Johnny. Wherever you go, i’ll always follow. I may be your superior in the field, but out here? My soul is yours to have, to command, to guide.” Each statement accompanied by a small kiss - to Soap’s nose, his cheeks, his lips. 

Ghost was smiling now. It was cheesy, he knew, spouting sentiments he scarcely spoke out loud. But he allowed himself to indulge, if only for the night. Knowing the importance for the occasion that only he was privy to. 

Maybe now would be the perfect time to take the ring out?

He watched as Soap tilted his head, feeling lips brush against his own. Moments away from closing the distance again. 

“You sappy basta- oof" Soap’s words were abruptly cut off, and Ghost was quick to pull back enough to scan the man for why he had stopped. He followed the Scot’s line of sight to see a…football, suspiciously rolling away from where the two were standing. Accompanied by a blotch of mud on the ankle of Soap’s jeans.

“Sorry!” A small voice suddenly called out, the vowels elongated in their apology. 

The men threw each other a glance before looking towards the park on the hill, identifying the source of the voice to have come from a group of kids that stood together. As soon as they noticed the adult’s eyes on them, they were quick to point at the supposed culprit. 

The kid took a step forward, presumably to go and fetch the ball, only to immediately pause as Ghost raised his hand up.

“Stay there, i’ll get it,” his voice carried, some of his ‘Lieutenant authority’ bleeding through. Having seen the ball continue to roll until it had reached the center of the street, he knew it wasn’t safe for a child to go fetch it. 

He liked to think Soap was rubbing off on him - the man’s blatant compassion and selflessness for those he didn’t even know. Things that came natural to Soap, things that were simply in his nature, required manual thought for Ghost. But he was trying, actively attempting to work on himself in recent months. And though Ghost knew there was certainly a long way ahead, he could start by doing small things, like this. 

His surprise could wait a few more moments, anyway.

He gave Soap’s hand a squeeze before walking away, watching the Scot turn to head over to the small group of children. Ever the sociable one, Ghost lamented with a shake of his head. Soap was known to take any opportunity to use his “cool uncle” privileges on the youth, and he played the part well. 

Ghost looked both ways as he stepped into the roadway, crossing multiple lanes before slowing to a light jog as he made it to his target. 

He let out a sharp whistle as the kids - and Soap - turned to look at him expectantly. With a raise of his arm, he sent the ball flying back towards them all. It made him laugh when he heard the small hollers of approval, watching as Soap blew him a kiss.

God, Ghost so gone on that man. He looked breathtaking, even in such a mundane situation. The scarf and long coat that he was dressed in made him look so cozy. And the mohawk that had grown out considerably in the last few weeks? 

It never failed to get Ghost’s heart racing.

He looked like he belonged here, Ghost’s brain supplied. Whether that meant in the city life or by his side, who was he to decide?  How he ended up in the same orbit as Soap was beyond him. The earth was such a wide expansive place, and despite it all… 

He turned on his heals to walk back, please with himself that he had done his good deed for the da- 

All of the air left Ghost’s lungs as what seemed like a brick wall absolutely slammed into him, feeling weightless for a moment before harshly impacting on the ground.

His world twisted on its end, disorienting him as he tried to make sense of it all. One moment, Ghost was looking at his Johnny. The next, he was on his back, head spinning and eyes seeing nothing but a large expanse of dark blue. 

Time seemed to slow as he looked up, the sky’s color so rich and deep that he almost thought his sight was gone, though remedied by the fact there were a few streetlights to accompany his view. 

The view was pretty, he decided. As pain flooded through his body and confusion washed over his mind, all he could focus on was how the stars reminded him of Soap’s eyes.

And how he wished to look at them forever. 

His heart raced as he remembered what he would be doing soon, of what he would be asking the other man. He always knew Soap was the one for him, from the moment they met, Ghost felt like he had no choice but to love him. He just hoped Soap would say yes.

Wait. Where was Soap? He wasn’t…Ghost couldn’t see him, so where was the man? 

His ears were ringing, his vision turning fuzzy as he found it increasingly difficult to use any of his senses properly. Chest growing heavier with every breath he took as he laid in the…street? Why was he in the road? And why did it feel like he had just been ran over by a ca-

Shit. It’s because he was, wasn’t he? 

And even worse?

He must have gotten flung on impact, so much so that looking past his outstretched arm, he could see a small velvet box that had been opened. The shine of a small metallic object catching his eye as he realized what exactly was sitting out unprotected in the roadway.

The ring.

He needed to get it - it didn’t matter if everything hurt. This was the most important night of Ghost’s life, he would not allow himself to mess it all up. 

He needed to fix this. 

----------

Soap saw it happen. How one moment he was blowing a childish kiss to Simon, and the next his love was thrown down the road like a rag doll. He should have seen the vehicle coming, noticing it only a moment too late. 

But that’s all it took. 

The faces of the kids around him had morphed from joy to absolute horror, everyone hearing the screech of the car accompanied by a terrible thud.

Soap shook himself out of his shock, immediately throwing his phone at the nearest child with a command of ‘call 999’ before he was barreling down the hill. He surprised himself with his own speed, but how could he not run like his life depended on it? 

Somebody was just hit by a car. 

No. Someone had just hit Simon with their car, not even bothering to stop before speeding back off. All he could see was how Simon was struggling to get up. Like his body was in immense pain but his mind was trying to push through it, moving around on the pavement. How he was panicking.

Soap dodged oncoming traffic to get to him, drivers just arriving on scene being less than careful, ignorant to what had just happened seconds before. He couldn’t even care about his own life in that moment, all of his worry focusing on getting Ghost out of harms way.

“Simon!” Soap yelled as he finally reached to him, his eyes frantically scanning the other’s body. When he didn’t see any injuries that suggested he couldn’t be moved, he scooped his arms under Ghost’s knees and back and quickly hoisted him up.

Any other wounds could be fixed later, once they were out of the road.

The moment Soap finally held Simon in his arms, the man’s movements seemed to slow, no longer squirming around like when he was on the ground. His initial fear and panic in his eyes seemingly subsiding. 

The Scot cradling Ghost’s head as he sprinted across the lanes of traffic, his mouth spewing a constant “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” though he wasn’t sure who’s benefit it was for. 

When they made it back to the sidewalk, Soap was quick to gently place the man down on the ground. Chest heaving as he finally could take a good look at Simon. A few tears escaped his eyes, but he refrained from crying, trying to hold himself together until he could stabilize Simon, until he could ensure he was okay.

He worked to get the man’s jacket off so he could have a better view of any wounds - noticing that the clothing had gotten ripped up during the impact. Soap prayed that Ghost's many layers had protected him, though he could see blood on his hairline already. 

The entire time, he hadn’t stopped trying to comfort Ghost. His hand smoothing the stray hairs from his face as he whispered, “Shh, you’re okay, it’s going to be okay. Help is on their way, Si, just hold on.”

Every few moments, Soap couldn’t help but notice how Simon’s eyes would widen in a panic again as they glanced back over to the road, like he was remembering something that he had momentarily forgotten.

After the third time, he followed his gaze to see what the man kept glaring at, squinting when he saw something small shining under the streetlights. A small box and a…ring?

A ring.

“Oh, Simon,” He choked out, “That better not be what I think it is.”

Ghost moved his head back so he could focus on Soap’s face. Humming an affirmative that morphed into a groan as he felt his eyelids start to droop. This time, Soap wasn’t immune to letting his tears fall freely, sniffling as he clutched the man closer.

“I’ll- i'll give you an answer, Si, just hold on for me. C’mon, stay here with me.”

As they heard sirens ring out in the distance, getting louder with every passing moment, the two of them could do nothing but cling to each other, looking at the abandoned ring as it shined in the lowlight.

----------

“What are you thinking about?”

Ghost’s concentration broke as he tore his eyes away from the window. He had been watching the dark rain clouds circle in the sky before shifting to look over to where Soap was perched on his bed, sketchbook sprawled out in his lap.

“Oh you know,” Ghost mumbled, breaking eye contact as he glancing down to where he was playing with the ring on his finger. 

He had gotten his happy ending. 

Despite everything that had happened to him, despite a close call mere moments from when he had planned to get down on one knee, he had made it. Life kept going, and they had done it. Getting married against all odds. Although, there was one piece of that memory that Ghost often reflected on.

“Again?” Soap filled in the blank.

Ghost was thinking about the same thing he had for the last few months. At this point, it felt as if a part of him would always be stuck in that moment - remembering the time vividly and often.

He nodded in Soap's direction, "I feel like I’m back there again, like this is too good to be true… I thought I lost you.” Ghost wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to articulate how scared he had been in the moment that he thought would be his last. Terrified that he wouldn’t get to propose to Soap or live out the rest of their life together. 

He knew Soap saw it too - the other man already had discussed his side of events, how he had seen Simon in that moment. How he really saw him. The apparent raw, frightened expression on his face warping to reflect the love that he felt for Soap as he was held. How clear it was that Ghost was trying to hold on, absolutely terrified to leave the man he loved behind.

“I thought I lost you,” Soap rebutted, and Ghost could sense that they were getting caught in a circular conversation again. 

But everything was alright, they were safe. Simon held on enough for the ambulance to arrive, and he had been treated in the hospital before any damage was truly irreversible. 

Soap had saved him that night.

“You know it’d take more than that to keep me from you.” The older man sighed. “You hold my soul, remember? I wouldn’t go somewhere you’re not bringing me to. Until you guide me down to hell yourself, I think I’ll stay right here.” His chest warmed at the sound of Soap chuckling from across the room. 

“I love you, Si,” Soap said, opening the blankets on Ghost’s bed to offer the other man his spot.

“You know I love you too, Johnny,” came Simon’s natural response as he stepped over to where Soap was already curled up. 

Ghost intertwined their hands as he fell into bed, the glint of their rings shining as he brought Soap’s hand to his lips. Kissing the metal vow before the lights were turned off and the two drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

----------

Darling, there's a part of me

I'm afraid will always be

Trapped within an abstract from a moment of my life

[girlactionfigure]

Hero of the Forest

Their goal was survival

Tuvia Bielski was a Jewish resistance fighter who saved 1200 Jews by creating a haven for refugees deep in the Polish forest.

Born in 1906, Tuvia was one of twelve children in the only Jewish family in Stankiewicze, Poland, then part of the Russian Empire (modern-day Belarus.) His native language was Yiddish, and he also spoke Polish and German. His natural facility with languages led to Tuvia serving as a child interpreter for the German army during their occupation of Stankevich during World War I. In 1927 Tuvia was recruited into the Polish Army and became a corporal before completing his military service.

After leaving the army, Tuvia returned to his hometown, now part of the Soviet Union. He married and operated a mill and general store, living a relatively quiet life until 1941, when Germany invaded the Soviet Union. The Germans created a ghetto in the nearby town of Nowogrodek, and forced local Jews out of their homes and into the squalid ghetto. In the chaos, Tuvia and his younger brothers Zus and Asael managed to escape into the forest and vowed they would never be captured by the Germans. Meanwhile, in the Nowogrodek ghetto German officers were massacring Jews for sport, including Tuvia’s parents and two brothers. 

Deep in the Polish forest, Tuvia created a training base for resistance fighters which also became a safe haven for Jews fleeing from the Germans. Other Jews who’d managed to avoid or escape the ghetto joined the Bielskis in their secret forest hideout. The band of militants became known as the Bielski otriad (brigade). By the summer 1943 there were seven hundred Jews in the Naliboki forest hideout, a mix of resistance fighters and terrified refugees. 

At first the Bielski otriad conducted sabotage actions against the Germans such as burning crops so the soldiers couldn’t eat, and executing German collaborators. But as time went on, the Bielski group’s only goal became survival, for themselves and as many other Jews as they could save. Tuvia turned the humble forest haven into an organized community. All the Jews who found refuge there contributed resources and expertise in different areas. Under Tuvia’s strong leadership, the secret forest hideout grew into something resembling a tiny village, with a hospital, school, manufacturing facility, butcher shop, tailor, and even a house band featuring prominent Jewish musicians. Tuvia reached out to other partisan groups to trade food, weapons and other supplies. 

In the beginning, the forest group consisted mostly of young men, those brave enough to escape the ghetto and strong enough to engage in guerrilla warfare. By 1944, most of the Jews finding refuge in the forest were women, children, and the sick and aged. The Bielski group was perhaps the most impactful Jewish resistance effort during World War II, saving the lives of over 1200 Jews.

After the war Tuvia moved to Israel and ultimately immigrated to New York, where he operated a trucking business with two brothers who’d survived the war. He died and was buried in New York in 1987, but the next year his remains were exhumed and buried in Jerusalem, where he was given a state funeral with full military honors. 

Twenty years later, in 1988, Daniel Craig portrayed Tuvia in the film Defiance, a critical and commercial hit about the Bielski group.

For creating a community of fighters and survivors deep in the forest and saving 1200 lives, we honor Tuvia Bielski as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[imachaoticghost]

Mafia! Modern Warfare II AU

Mafia! 141 head canons

Summary: Headcanons for my on going Mafia AU with reader (code name Karma as always). I’m in a brain rot for mafia AU so expect a lot of uploads on it

Masterlist

Word count : No Idea

Pairings : Implied Ghoap, fake!Gaz x fem!reader, Platonic! Price x reader, Implied Laswell x fem!reader

TW: Life dealing, canon typical violence, may be OOC, canon divergence, AU, MAFIA, alcohol, use of reader,

Divider made by me

Mafia!Price, who owns one of the biggest criminal organizations of the country

Mafia! Ghost and Mafia! Gaz, who are Mafia!Price’s seconds in command

Mafia!Soap, whose loyalty lies more with Ghost than with Price

Mafia!Gaz, who’s one of Price’s most loyal ‘dogs’ (but also the one on a shorter leash)

Mafia!Ghost, whose hit man abilities are only matched by the Las Almas mob chief

Mafia! Price, that makes his business in the club he owns

Mafia! Ghost that’s a bouncer at the club

Mafia! Gaz and Soap that are bartenders at the club

Mafia! Ghost who’s suspicious of the new barmaid

Mafia! Ghost that despises the way Mafia! Reader flirts with Gaz

Mafia! Gaz that deeply trusts Reader

Mafia! Soap that thinks reader is just a civilian

Mafia! Price having almost no paid workers because everyone that works with him is repaying a debt (except Reader, his mafia, and a few others)

Mafia! Reader that’s about the only exterior paid worker

Mafia! Price and Ghost that deal slaves without their friends knowing

Mafia! 141 that adores Reader’s cocktails

Mafia! 141 that wonders how Reader has so much intel on the Police

Mafia! Soap who knows that Reader serves Cops and wonders how she gets them to talk

Mafia! Laswell who’s 141’s informant

Mafia! Kate that’s Price’s manager in the club and ‘secretary’

Mafia! Kate that has a gun on her at all times and makes sure her boys do too

Mafia! Kate that makes sure Reader can defend herself if it comes to it and that she has a weapon close to her if needed

[sharksnshakes]

Updated Masterlist

Started; 8/4/22

Last Updated; 5/19/24

Total Works; 25

Here’s my current masterlist in all of its glory. Reader is gn unless stated otherwise. If there’s an idea you think I’d like, feel free to send it my way via asks! Happy reading >:) 

(Key: * = content warnings, listed in more detail in links)

!!more under the cut!!

Attack On Titan

Zeke Yeager - Flirting HCs

Winning over reader might take a while, but Zeke’s no quitter. 

Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Alejandro Vargas - Just A Scratch*

You pull your stitches when getting a late night glass of water. Alejandro's up, too, and insists on giving you a hand.

John “Soap” MacTavish - Open Arms

Soap might be the tiniest bit jealous of the throw pillows you nap with. You might just have to do something about that. 

Multi - Where They Kiss You

Because sometimes a kiss on the lips isn't enough.

Dead By Daylight

Ghostface Tormenting A New Survivor! HCs*

As the newest survivor to come through the fog, it’s only a matter of time until the Ghostface puts you through hell. 

Killers’ Favorite Color On Survivor! Reader HCs

Even bloodthirsty killers have their favorites. Favorite victims, favorite weapons, favorite... colors?

Killer’s Love Languages - Danny Johnson, Evan Macmillan*

Hard to believe that the killers have love languages. But, y’know, weirder things have happened.

Killers’ Big Spoon vs. Little Spoon! HCs

Everyone has a soft spot. Even killers in the fog... right?

Survivor! Reader Being Used As A Shield! HCs - Pyramid Head*

Pyramid Head isn’t in Silent Hill anymore, but it won’t stop him from exacting justice where he sees fit.

Survivor! Reader Attempting To Flirt With The Killers HCs

When running and hiding from the killers becomes too much work, it’s time to change strategies.

The Doctor Tormenting A New Survivor! HCs*

You’re new to the Entity’s realm and need someone to show you the ropes. It’s a good thing the Doctor is in... 

Wesker Tormenting A New Survivor! HCs*

It’s too bad that nobody taught you not to make a fool of Albert Wesker. Looks like he’ll be teaching you himself. 

Gotham

Jervis Tetch - Please*

Jervis Tetch has a habit of wanting what he can’t have. 

Jervis Tetch - Foggy Mirrors

You can never have too much of a good thing. 

Random Traits Gotham Villains Find Attractive! HCs

Love’s hard to come by in Gotham City, but that doesn’t mean people stop looking--even villains. 

Marvel

Stephen Strange/Sinister Strange - Wrong One

F! reader has feelings for Stephen and visits the Sanctum Sanctorum, only to discover he’s not the person she thought... 

Stephen Strange - Bad Dream?

Reader wakes up from a nightmare when taking a midday nap. Good think a certain sorcerer (and a certain cloak) are around to ground them. 

Resident Evil

Albert Wesker - Dinner?

Wesker keeps calling you into his office to run point. It’s definitely not anything deeper than that, right?

Karl Heisenberg - Reader Asking For Affection! HCs

So what if the most dangerous Lord in the village could use a nap every once in a while? (request)

Leon Kennedy - I Knew You Would

Leon Kennedy, your coworker and friend, does not want to just be friends. Too bad he hasn't told you that. (valentine's day adjacent)

Leon Kennedy - New Perspective

After losing a bet with friend and fellow DSO agent Leon Kennedy, he takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. Unforeseen consequences include windburn, watery eyes, and maybe developing a crush on him. Maybe.

The Dark Knight Trilogy

Bane (Nolanverse), Jonathan Crane (Nolanverse) - Confrontation*

Reader is sick of Bane’s threats and Crane’s jurisdiction. In a moment of bravery (or stupidity!), reader tells the villains exactly what they think. (done separately).

Jonathan Crane (Nolanverse) - Everything You’ve Got*

Jonathan Crane is infatuated with reader, who’s forgotten about him entirely. That just won’t do. 

Jonathan Crane (Nolanverse) - For Better Or For Worse

Why is your boyfriend, Jonathan Crane, wearing the Scarecrow’s mask? 

[all-for-the-simps]

"Sword in a Gunfight"

: Prologue :

CoD x Original Character Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II 

Context: I know nothing about the military or how it works, I've never played CoD and all the characters are probably ooc 'cause I don' know what I'm doing but please, enjoy just as I have written it :))

A/N: This prologue chapter is a little boring, it's mostly just an introduction but. I had a lot of fun with this and I've got a big old plan and I can't wait to show you people. Anyway, please respect my dni rules and i appreciate your reblogs :) (I'll add pics and cool stuff like that to this soon, my wifi is dying right now-)

🚫female-aligned people DNI🚫

-----

“‘Los Vaqueros’? What kind of a name is that?”

“Frost…” Price sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Mexican Special Forces and they named themselves ‘The Cowboys’? They could’ve picked any other name but had to go with one that makes them sound like a gang of immature teenagers trying their hardest to be rebellious.” Frost said, earning a groan from the rest of the unit.

“You finished?” Ghost asked, giving Frost a tired glare.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m done.” Frost nodded. Soap chuckled and Gaz just face-palmed. As you can probably tell, this sort of thing happens quite a lot.

“I suggest you don’t repeat any of that when you meet them, you might get beat up,” Soap said, leaning an arm on Frost’s shoulder. Frost raised an eyebrow but nodded, agreeing. Price leaned his hands on the table they were all standing around and sighed before glancing at Frost to make sure he wasn’t going to open his mouth again.

“... As I was saying…” Price said, giving Frost another glance. “We have been hired to help protect a man named Mateo Perez. Lives on the outskirts of Las Almas, that’s why we’re working with Los Vaqueros.” Price explained as his men listened.

“Unlike El Sin Nombre, Perez is a community donor-type. Giving a portion of his money to the people. No gang connections, no drugs, no weapons, nothing. From our intel, he’s just a rich guy who loves his hometown.” Gaz added, crossing his arms as he spoke.

“Then why would he need protection from 141 and Los Vaqueros when he probably has his own unit of bodyguards?” Frost asked, tilting his head to the side. “It doesn’t seem like a matter of national security.”

“He’s got a point.” Soap muttered. “Is there another reason we’re taking this gig?”

“We don’t know. He wants to discuss the details personally and that’s all we were told.” Price shrugged.

“Soap,” Frost whispered to the man beside him.

“Yeah?” Soap replied, leaning closer.

“A tenner says this is an ambush,” Frost said.

Soap took a second to consider, “Yeah, alright, you’re on.” 

“Hell yeah,” Frost said before the both of them turned back to the conversation the others were having.

“We meet with Los Vaqueros when we touch down in Las Almas. From there, they’ll take us to Perez.” Ghost said.

“Wheels up at 0600.” Price said, tapping the table. “Dismissed.” As everyone walked away, going to get ready to leave, Soap walked alongside Frost.

“It’ll be good to see Alejandro and Rudy again.” Soap said. Frost nodded and kicked a rock across the ground.

“Alejandro? Rudy?” Frost repeated, looking at Soap.

“The colonel and the sergeant major of Los Vaqueros.” Soap shrugged. “Good guys, the pair of them.”

“And how do you guys know them?” Frost asked as he fiddled with the dog tags around his neck.

“We had a mission with them a while back. Stopped a couple of missiles and a terrorist, found out who El Sin Nombre was, we were betrayed by Graves and the Shadow Company, General Shepard had something to do with it too, but I think Price and Laswell are going to handle that-” Soap rambled on, only to the cut off by a very confused Frost.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait… First of all, what the fuck? And second of all… What the fuck?” Frost furrowed his brows and shook his head, trying to process everything Soap had said.

“Has no one ever told you this?” Soap asked.

“No??” Frost said. “Who the fuck is Sin Nombre?”

“El Sin Nombre. Head of a drug cartel who was helping a terrorist. Apparently, her name is Valeria and she knew Alejandro. Bit of a shock to all of us, really.” Soap explained.

“... Alright. I know about the Shadow Company and Graves thing but I didn’t realise Shepard was involved in that.” Frost said.

“None of us really understand it.” Soap shrugged. “Graves took control of Los Vaqueros’ base and held them all captive. Rudy got out of there and helped us, but Alejandro was detained.”

“I’m guessing this Graves guy is dead.” 

“Very.” Soap nodded before they both went their separate ways to get ready to leave.

“I’ve always hated flying,” Gaz grumbled as he sat stiffly between Frost and Ghost.

“You didn’t always. You can fly helicopters.” Ghost said.

“Still,” Gaz grunted. Soap, who was sitting opposite them all cracked a mischievous smile.

“Does this have anything to do with that one time you fell out of that-” Soap was cut off.

“Yes!” Gaz said, shuddering at the memory. Frost frowned and patted Gaz’s back.

“It’s going to be fine, man.” Frost smiled.

Ghost shifted uncomfortably, “Wish they made the seats more comfortable.”

“Yeah, both sides of my arse are asleep.” Soap added and Frost gave him a look. “What?” Frost just raised his eyebrows and looked at his boots.

“Tell me, Frost…” Ghost started, looking over at him.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you never wear any gear?” Ghost asked. “Bit of a stupid move if you ask me.”

“You don’t even have a proper shirt. You let your shirt open a bit.” Soap said.

“And?” Frost asked, defensively.

“You’ve got your chest out, practically begging to be a target.” Soap said.

“No protection at all, they’re right you know,” Gaz added.

“Whoa, guys. You don’t have to gang up on me, we haven’t even landed.” Frost said, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Is it because you want to show off your tattoos?” Soap asked, almost mockingly.

“Yes, but it’s not just that,” Frost said, glaring at Soap who just smiled.

“What could it possibly be? You’re going to be the first casualty at this rate.” Ghost said.

“If you shut up, maybe I’ll get around to telling you.” Frost crossed his arms in annoyance.

“Alright, keep your hair on!” Gaz exclaimed, rolling his eyes as the others sighed.

After a pause of silence, Frost nodded, “Thank you… It’s because the fighting style I have requires manoeuvrability and having gear on just restricts movement.”

“The gear also makes sure you don’t get shot.” Ghost mumbled.

“Have you seen his reflexes, Ghost?” Soap asked, baffled. “He split a bullet in half with a sword!”

“No way.” Gaz shook his head. “Impossible, man.”

“He did! I was there!” Soap yelled.

“Jesus, keep your fucking voice down, mate!” Ghost said.

Frost shook his head, “You know, you guys are so-”

“Landing!” The pilot’s voice echoed from the front of the plane, interrupting Frost’s thought. As the plane lurched and started to descend, Gaz gripped Frost’s and Ghost’s knees on either side of him. Ghost and Frost looked at each other before sighing and just letting him.

Once the plane had landed and everyone had gotten up and stretched, the hatch opened and they were greeted by the bright light of the Las Almas afternoon sun. 

“Jesus, it’s hot out here.” Soap grumbled, trying to adjust his gear as they walked. Ghost simply grunted in discomfort, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wriggling a finger under the neck part of his mask to make himself more comfortable.

“Yeah, it really sucks to have heavy gear on now, huh?” Frost laughed.

“You can shut your fucking gob, man,” Soap said, pointing a finger at Frost's face.

“Will you two behave please?” Price said, walking past them all. “It’s like babysitting… Only worse.” Ghost nodded in agreement and joined him.

“Where did he come from? I didn’t see him on the plane.” Frost said, pointing after his captain.

“I think he was sitting in the cockpit,” Gaz said, stretching his back a little before following Ghost and Price.

“Alejandro!” Soap yelled out, Frost jump out of his skin at the sudden volume. Frost watched as Soap jogged towards two men who he assumed were Alejandro and possibly that other Rudy guy.

“Good to see you again, hermano,” Alejandro said as he grabbed Soap’s hand in greeting, a wide smile on his face.

“For fuck’s sake, Soap, you scared the shit outta me,” Frost said, slapping Soap over the head.

“Ow! Fuckin’-” Soap said, turning around but then just sighing.

“Who’s this?” Alejandro asked, looking Frost up and down curiously. 

“I don’t remember him from the last time you were here,” Rudy added, smiling slightly.

“Alejandro, Rudy, this Fr-” Soap started but got immediately cut off.

“I’m a grown-ass man, I don’t need you to introduce me,” Frost said and Soap rolled his eyes. Frost looked back at the two men and smiled slightly.

“Frost.” He said, putting out his hand. Rudy took it first and shook it graciously with a friendly smile. Alejandro took it next and gave it a firm shake, but he didn’t take his hand away for a hot second. Frost slowly let go and Alejandro followed before giving Frost a wide grin.

“Welcome to Las Almas, Frost.”

-----

AHHHHHHH IT'S HEREEEEEE