#don't fuck with Gaz

[gomzdrawfr]

||Jackals Operator|| : 【M A C E】

status: unknown

last seen location: Sergeant Kyle Garrick's apartment

Interview content: "Hm, I'm not sure who you're talking about, haven't seen that guy in months officer, think you got the wrong guy :)"

bonus, because I liked making Mace huge af, then realize i have to erase it for Gaz :(

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[randoms-doom]

genuinely my most favourite doodles of gaz

[fixfoxnox]

This is why I'm not the biggest fan of the Price is the dad of the 141 headcanons, because what people fail to understand is that the person on the leash is actually Price

[thegnomelord]

Ya'll wanna know my kink? Of course you do :D I blame @rodolfoparras for getting me into this brainrot. MDNI

I love to see a man's pretty little hole gape.

Not to the point of total ruin or prolapsing, but so it's loose enough for you to just sliiide right in without a snag until you're balls deep and he swears he can feel it in his throat; loose enough for you to fuck into him in long smooth strokes that has him shaking and whimpering into the sheets; so loose yet it still tries to suck you in deeper, uselessly trying to clench to keep you inside every time you pull back to thrust into him again.

I like the type of gape that his hole stays open when you pull out, the type of gape that no matter how much the poor man whines and tries to clench he can't keep your cum from slowly trickling out down his taint and balls. But the silly thing doesn't need to worry his pretty little head, it's not his fault his hole is so sloppy and loose. You're there to trail your fingers along the small rivulet of cum, gathering it on the pads of your fingers so you can stuff it back into his hole. And he's so content now that he's not empty, his puffy rim fluttering around your knuckles as you spread his already stretched hole with your fingers until you can see your cum pooled in his soft body.

I also love getting to that point.

I'd love to lay him down on the bed and oil him up, make sure he's so relaxed and pliant he's almost asleep by the time you even near his intimate parts. All he could do is turn his head to catch your gaze, skin flushing with goosebumps as you fondle and massage his ass, your thumbs circling his virgin tight hole before going down, caressing his balls and lazily stroking his cock just as it's starting to twitch with interest. And I'd keep my hands moving slowly, up and down, up and down, until he's sighing and panting against the pillow, thighs trembling with how he tries to keep them open for you, cock hard and his rim twitching whenever you press your thumb against it without trying to penetrate.

Only then would I lean in to lick around his hole, your teeth gently nibbling and sucking on his rim. A full body shiver trails up his spine and the prettiest sounds leave his breathless lips when you breach him with your tongue. And he's so tight it takes you ages of slowly eating him out to stretch him out enough for him to be able to take one of your fingers. It's heaven for you but hell for him, the movement of your tongue against his fluttering slow and lazy sensation keeping him teetering on the edge of that pleasure without it being enough.

And stretching him open slowly is the fun part, taking all the time in the world to get him used to the sensation of your finger wiggling inside him, stretching him open bit by bit so your tongue can lap at his sensitive walls as he moans and groans into the pillow, desperately trying to rut his ass into your face and his cock into the sheets. But he can cum as much as he wants, doesn't mean I'll stop until I can fit three fingers inside and his hole is begging for a fourth.

And damn the sight of his hole when you finally pull your fingers out is priceless; the small gape of his hole, the way his puffy rim continues to flutter and try to clench around nothing is as adorable as the small wiggle of his hips that he does and the soft spoken pleas to just "put it in" that has you finally giving him some relief.

And I don't know what I love more, watching inch after inch of your hard cock disappear into him until your pelvis is flush with his ass, or the long and drawn out moan that leaves his lips when you drape your body over his, catching his lips in a lazy kiss as you set a loving pace that leaves him breathless.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

I know you mean good but fat girls can also break easily. I also don’t mean to sound rude or offend you but it’s rare for fat girls to be 6 foot, I know you might be fat and 6 foot but it’s pretty rare. I think most people stick to petite girls in cod stories because it would be scary and horrifying if they gave reader their sweater and all the sudden reader fits or barely fits in it and it only works as a crop top on them. And please try to remember just because their fat doesn’t mean they aren’t clean fat girls bathe too and do their eyebrows too they aren’t slobs. Fat girls can break when they get laid and yes I believe they also will jiggle around in the process so please try to be mindful when bringing up cod guys with a fat girl

Girl what

I'm 5"2 so idk what you're talking about lmao

Also, I have never once written fat/chubby girls in a bad light, like???

OMG WHAT THEY BATHE?!?!?!?

Ya don't say.

I'm literally a fat girl myself 💀

I've seen this before, so it's probably someone sending it to creators who write for chubby readers to get their point (???) across or something.

People can write whatever they want, okay.

Most writers write with themselves in mind, so the reader will reflect that in subtle ways. I know that the petite girl thing is become sort of a meme on here but like there are girls who look like that lol

And like, this is fiction. I don't know why you're trying to justify only writing for skinny people by saying it might be unrealistic in some ways????

If I say the reader is fat and like Johnny's hoodie is oversize, THEN IT'S FUCKING OVERSIZE OKAY

And if I want John to pick up the chubby reader and carry her across the goddamn world, HE FUCKING WILL

When did fanfiction become about realism???

Y'all write about hybrid AUs, Omega stuff, Monster AUs (no hate, I love all the unique ideas!!) but we can't write about fat girls??

Yeah no. Not in this fucking house.

And the thing about breaking easily....

Girl, we literally have built-in airbags. Whether that's tig ol bitties, thunderthighs, the tummy of love or the ass of the century.

Like we are cushioned all the way through????

If you throw me and my (skinny) sister against a wall, who do you think is gonna come out with fewer injuries?

Yeah.

Again, NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

I know this is probably a troll, but I'm so sick of people like this. Anyway,

FAT GIRLS FOREVER 🩷✨️

[moronic-validity]

I have been up for two hours and all I can think about is texting best friend Gaz like dude, fuckin tired. Can't sleep. Weighted blanket missing. SOS.

(just some thoughts bc I'm tired and not used to being awake before 10. 18+ due to a singular comment, but this is self serving fluff)

And Gaz replies, because he always does when it's you.

Be there soon.

You don't even check your phone when it dings, you know he's already on the way.

You try your hardest to try to get yourself back to sleep, but all the blankets and pillows in your house simply don't have the weight to help you relax enough to sleep.

He parks his car next to yours and lets himself in with the spare key you made him (in case of emergencies), and he kicks off his shoes at the door before making his way back to your bedroom.

You were covered in pillows, blankets, and every vaguely soft item you could find.

He snorted. You flipped him off.

He pushed all the pillows and various other items off of you (why the hell did you have a pair of slippers mixed in with all the pillows) and got comfortable, laying his chest across yours.

You sighed happily, finally comfortable enough to fall asleep. He was heavy, warm, and everything about him radiated safety.

"Need me to tell you a bedtime story too?" His chuckle reverberates against your chest and you nod, making him laugh again.

"Alright so, have I told you about the time I fell out of a helicopter?" You can distantly hear his voice as you drift to sleep, a welcome rest after 18 hours of stress.

You wake up at some point later in the day, Gaz's arm wraped around your waist, holding you close. It's comfortable, familiar.

You nudge him.

"Ky... Lemme up, need t' pee." He grumbles, stubbornly pulling you closer against him.

"Kyle, I'll piss on both of us, lemme up." Your threat means little to him. He's been covered in worse and it would just leave you with a mess to clean up.

You sigh.

"Kyle. I can feel your stiffy against my back, lemme up." His eyes snap open and he lets go of you, holding up his hands in surrender while trying to explain the concept of morning wood.

You wave him off, walking to the bathroom.

Single easiest way to make him wake up.

[avianii]

oh? what's this?? fanart for my other fandoms???? the infidelity!!!

anyways @calkale I'm also just now realizing this is 75% stuff you indoctrinated me into liking so congrats, it worked :)

[wrylu]

FUCK!!! it's finally done. after a whole day

COD CHARACTERS, but they're B U G S

cw insects!! if you get hibbie jibbies from buggo art or just bugs in general, u can scroll💗

and for those who wanna see the art, it looks better if you click on it and zoom in on it or something :)

the worms in my brain bothered me last night to draw cod characters but they're bugs and this morning i started IMMEDIATELY

at the cost of my fingers, wrists, and hands 🕊

the amount of tags on this one.

[wishfuldivine]

Ya'll will have to excuse this blog because it's strictly Bottom Gaz and Bottom Checo!

If you don't like it, the door is open! I will always lean towards that! And I'm saying this because a certain Anon decided to talk shit about my blog, complaining and whining on why I support my stance on Gaz and Checo.

Simple: Because I can and I want to. Block button is there for a reason. Your opinion based on my likes and dislikes will never change my belief and enjoyment.

Ever heard of "you're entitled to whatever it is you like"? I guess not. Anyway, Bottom Gaz and Bottom Checo FTW!

[cerise-on-top]

This is a vent piece. My psychosis got far worse again today, and my anxiety has been peaking each day for the past two weeks now. Pretty sure no one's going to read this, but I don't care. I wrote this with Price in mind, but this could be about anyone.

TW: graphic metaphors of violence, reader is psychotic and going through an episode, I think

What a beautiful day it was. The sun, at its zenith, brought a pleasant temperature with it. Any creature, capable of feeling both pleasure and warmth, would yearn for a nap underneath its rays. The sky, such a radiant blue, glorious in its pulchritude, made for the ideal day to go outside. Wherever one were to look, a human and its companions were close by, smiling at each other, cracking jokes. Some were enjoying lovely meals, others were indulging in sports. But many agreed, such a day had to be lived. Stormy clouds would come soon enough as they were, bringing an end to this reign of cheer. However, such thoughts couldn’t have been further away from the masses.

So, why were you stuck at home, bearing the curse of a headache no one had ever understood? This echo of a pain, it had only ever brought you suffering. Gripping your hair in your hands, you fought a war with yourself to not bash your head against the wall. The urge, ever so strong, was taking a hold of you, but you dared not let it win, for the consequences were dire enough to scare you into dominance over your mental illness. It was an unbearable pain, unlike anything you could ever have experienced normally. And yet, you’ve been living like this for the past few years now. It brought you to your knees as your breathing was uneven. Sharp breaths, deep breaths, were you even breathing at all? Even the voice in your head was concerned, trying to soothe you. Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Why couldn’t you have been normal?

Promises of aid in your darkest times came to mind, but the fear of burdening your loved ones broke each and every one of them. You wanted to swing your head violently around, making sure to break your skull, the splinters in your brain drowning out the pain that currently was. You couldn’t make it through this alone, but you had to. You were scared, alone, but you were a warrior, fighting for survival. If anyone ever knew how much agony you were in, they’d point and laugh at you. Your breathing sped up as you lowered your head to the floor. The cold wood did nothing to alleviate the torture you went through. You wanted to bite away at your own skin, gnawing at your bones so the physical pain would overshadow the mental one. You clutched your head, horrid images of flesh and bone crossing your mind. What did you do? And why did you deserve this? Picking at your skin, cutting away the flesh to reveal what’s inside, tearing open your body. You didn’t want this.

But somehow, a hand was placed on your back. As warm as the sun, as meaningful as the first nice day after a storm. You didn’t dare to look up. You’ve messed up. Someone saw you in your vulnerable state, here to take no mercy on you, who suffered through the layers of hell in this ordinary world. The hand burned through your skin, ridiculing you, but you craved it.

“Love, what’s wrong? Please look at me.”

You were shaking, your stomach churning as you tasted iron in your mouth. You were not long for this world, but you had to endure.

“It hurts so bad. I’m sorry.”

The hand on your back started to move, frantically so as it attempted to soothe you. The warmth spread, but your pain has been noted by someone else. You couldn’t move. But still, as humiliating as being perceived was, you focused on the hand.

“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

The voice in your head made it all up. It was so loud, almost drowning out any other sound. You needed him to speak. He needed to continue, he needed to distract you.

“I’m sorry.”

Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to another source of warmth. His heart was beating, he was breathing, he was a beacon of comfort.

A body you loved, so close to you. His scent was almost overwhelming, but it was proof he was alive. You were alive, you believed, taking it in.

“Please, continue talking. I don’t care about what.”

And so, he betrayed your one request, staying silent. Perhaps it was your fault, perhaps it showed a weakness within him that only you could bring forth. And yet, his mere presence brought to light a strength you forgot about within yourself. As you no longer held onto your head as though it was torn at the seams, you instead sought him out. Finding solace within a gentle embrace, you took a deep breath as you buried your face in his shoulder. He was a soldier, one much better fitted for the cruelty this world brought about. He only knew how to kill, his only home was within the damned souls he sent to hell. But within his gentle grasp, you focused solely on him. Begging for comfort, like a child starved of its parent’s attention.

The knife of unreality twisted in your guts, slitting your throat, leaving you unable to speak. You were dependent on him in that moment. It was him, who needed to stitch you back together, make sure you could regard yourself as anything but a human failure. If you could even consider yourself a human in the first place.

But he was oh so meticulous in taking each bloody piece, infusing it with new life before merging it into an empty hull of a body. And as he’d build his own poisoned paradise, he inhaled the fumes and saw a glimpse of a future he still desired. What you had always seen as his certain demise, he saw a dream more pleasant than the heavens themself. Exhaling into your seemingly lifeless body, he shared his very essence with you. Even when you unwillingly knock on death’s door, he would still protect you from the grief of losing yourself, tearing you away from the pain of the unknown.

The sun, at its zenith, had nothing to say to you. It gave you an environment to live in, but no reason to stay in it. Only this one man, broken from war, found it within himself to show you the joy of being. His pieces had been scattered, but he still shared what little was left of him with you, building a secure fort around your being.

And from within the view of a safe home, you could even gaze at the stars, relishing in the cold. You had a different kind of warmth to return to.

[cordeliawhohung]

People are so fucking outrageous you take some time for yourself that you told us you were taking and now they're up in your asks demanding stuff tell them to pay you for it, sincerely someone who doesn't mind waiting for whatever you post

on god i literally spent the last few days driving hours on end and just got back yesterday, today is my first full day back home. and i've been traveling out of town for the outreach clinic i have to work at the next few weeks, and even then i've still been writing allskdjf

lmfao i don't want to shit on that anon too much, and i'm def not trying to be rude or anything, but i'm also going to hijack your ask real quick to address stuff since i do have quite a few new followers.

while some users might not mind questions regarding when someone is updating/if they have anything planned for an ongoing series, and things like that, i specifically have it in my rules to please not do that, which is why i got a little short with them even though they arguably weren't being rude or malicious (unlike a few anons in the past have when asking things like that). this one is especially annoying because it's been literally eight days since i last updated for that, and i have other series i've been working on! like even though i'm not posting for it, i've still written a couple thousand words for pet!au, and i just finished a chapter for in limbo i'll have up for early access here in a bit, and then on tumblr probably tomorrow or wednesday.

but mostly, the reason why i specifically request that people don't ask if i have plans/when i'm updating/if i'm updating something is because i literally have an irl life. i've been pretty open recently about how i've been traveling and the work i've been doing, it's not a secret or anything lmao. it just feels... tone deaf, you know? like you come into my inbox not talking about the work, or what you like about it, or otherwise engaging with it, but just to ask if i'm giving you more, like i didn't just do that a week ago. hell, even if it's been months or years that's still rude imo because if you like something enough, then you'd probably be doing more than just asking for more, ya know? at least that's how it comes across to me. and like i said before, some people really don't care, which is why i made sure to specify it in my rules, because i do care. it ruins my mood to write and create because then it feels like a chore and people are waiting on me just to consume it and then beg for more rather than tell me what they actually enjoyed about the work lmao.

anyway, no hard feelings against that anon at all, i'm sure they didn't mean anything by it, so please don't show them any hate or anything. but just use this as a reminder to read the rules of the blogs you interact with please. or at least don't be surprised when you do something that irks them and then they're annoyed at you because of it lmao.

sorry about the rant in the tags

[cthulhusstepmom]

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

ITS BEEN STARING US IN THE FACE THIS ENTIRE TIME COMRADES WE'RE FOOLS

GHOST IS THE MOTHERFUCKING HEADLESS HORSEMAN

imagine with me a monster au

Price: gargoyle. stony skin, nigh impenetrable but pieces can snap off. he lost a horn that way. during the day he's restricted mostly to the indoors or he'll turn into a statue. he has wings he most definitely has wings. he smokes because he likes the tickle of it and he despises getting wet cause it makes his joints ache and his skin swell. he eats a balanced diet, mostly birds and the occasional green thing(he prefers moss) and he needs to swallow rocks to help him digest.

Gaz: naga. I like the idea of him being a sassy little rattlesnake. he does have venom but he can control it so it's not like he's gnawing on a steak with enough punch to knock out a platoon. he does swallow prey whole, it's really fucking disconcerting, and he eats like once a week. not completely cold blooded but much below room temperature and he gets really slow. he gets crabby in the winter because nagas naturally hibernate. nagas will only bite as a last line of defense because their fangs are actually pretty fragile in comparison to most real snakes.

Soap: amalgamation(think Frankenstein's monster). he's technically undead but it's kind of confusing because he is a completely separate person than any of his parts (legislation on this is a bitch and it flip flops every election cycle). amalgamations are usually not purposely made, they can happen just about anywhere, usually in morgues, funeral homes, or graveyards(lots of them crawl out of mass graves). no one has ever seen an amalgamation naturally come together, despite hundreds of years of trying (the magic works with Toy Story rules) but they can also be purposely made(very fucking illegal and unethical). a lot of times amalgamations are pretty off-putting, most undead are, but Soap is just like the best parts of everybody crammed into one package. and he's trans cause I said so and it's thematic.

Ghost: people jokingly call him a horseman of the apocalypse but oh if only they knew. no one is quite sure what Ghost is, bets are mostly on amalgamation because of just the sheer number of scars he has when people catch a glimpse; it can look like he's literally sewn together(natural amalgamations have smooth seams, made amalgamations are usually sewn or stapled). those who know are aware that Simon Riley went missing as a human man and returned as Something Else. he was beheaded before they buried him, in a world of monsters Manuel Roba isn't going to take risks, kicked his head into the coffin with him before nailing it down and shoving it back into the earth. but now his head is gone, destroyed, ripped to bloody pulpy, bits, instead of his traitorous commanding officer, Ghost used his own jaw in his desperation to escape the grave as a newly wakened undead. everyone wants to see what's under the mask, see behind the black pits of the skull, but the ringing hollow truth is that there's nothing there. and there can't be, not anymore. he doesn't eat, but he will absorb the energy of those around him and it can affect his mood if there are strong emotions. over the years he's learned to control it, to only take a little from everyone but he can siphon all the energy out of a person (if they don't have much his power literally starts burning fat to convert it and consume it, it withers you from the inside out).

I will be writing this stay tuned

[sky-is-the-limit]

I did not just stumble a rare Gaz edit on tiktok and most of the fucking comments were requesting an edit about someone else. One even commented that they want his 'dad'. Can't this man have anything?!

Gaz nation, we'll never win.

[themurderofcrowscollective]

The 141 and you!

(Second attempt at putting the reader in this sort of situation) So you're a new sergeant, being dropped into the 141 because you have something good to offer to the team. Instantly you're a bit intimidated by the death glare Ghost is giving you but you're met with Soap who's excited to see a new face and Gaz who is more welcoming. Price is Price, getting the formalities out of the way as fast as he can since they're... kinda boring as shit. As for Konig, you don't dare look at him in the eyes cause that's a fucking tree, not a man and Horangi is just watching you from the corner as you speak with Soap and Gaz. Alejandro and Rodolfo seem to already be happy to see you, having heard some good things about you. This is nice, although you're still a bit intimidated by the two towering giants of the squad.

Around the first few weeks of being part of the 141, you've mostly stuck with Soap and Gaz whenever you had the chance if not on missions or training recruits. They're always happy to see you and hear your stories, sitting at lunch together and chilling out on breaks so you at least aren't simply minding your own business and overthinking yourself to death about what everyone thinks of you. Aside from those two, you don't dare cross paths with Ghost, Konig and Horangi unless you're working with them. With Ghost, you and him are compatible on missions while you and Soap are an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. With Konig, you love working out with him and trying to take him on in a spar and with Horangi, the two of you seem to both like drawing so when you get the chance, you show him your drawings. With Price, he's indeed the squad's dad. It was 5 months being in the 141 when you finally (albeit accidentally) called him dad and Gaz owed Soap 100 dollars that day. All Price had to say was 'ah shit I've gained another child' while shaking his head and chuckling. Forget about it when it comes to Alejandro and Rodolfo, you three aren't allowed near any tequila if you're all in the same room. However you three do have a flair for cooking so you like to share recipes with them and teasing Ale when he's flirting with Rudy. (I don't care, Ale and Rudy are married)

And then... you and Ghost. Your bond with him started growing when you started having night terrors while Soap and Gaz were off on missions, unable to spend time with them if these happened. You couldn't bring yourself to talk to Ale, Rudy, Konig, Horangi or Price and while you sit there in quiet panic, you decide to sneak into the kitchen and find something to drink. Settling with some warm milk as it reminded you of your mom, you made sure to clean up before leaving once you were done with the drink. However once you started going back to your room, you turn the corner and bump into Ghost. Instead of reprimanding you or telling you to get to your room, he doesn't say anything and offers his hand to you. Puzzled you decide to accept it, having no idea what's going to happen as he leads you to his room instead and tells you to sit on his bed. You do and he sits next to you, reaching his arm over your shoulders and letting your head fall on his shoulder before asking if you want to talk about it. You felt the urge to ask him if he was sure about it but you decide to spill it anyway. As you talk about it and slowly come to tears, Ghost rubs your back as he reassures you and in his own way, comforts you by letting you sleep in his bed with him. Turns out he's a cuddler just like you so once you both got comfortable, you slowly put your head on his chest and wrap your arm around him as he holds you in his arms. The next morning though you didn't expect to find Konig and Horangi in the room, also sleeping on the bed. Ghost gives the best cuddles and he's made it clear to his friends that they're always welcome, so while you were asleep, Konig and Horangi joined in. It really isn't something you expected, waking up surrounded by hot men- YOU MEAN INTIMIDATING MEN. (Part 2 is out!)

[teecupangel]

Hi, I don't know if you know call of duty : modern warfare 1 and 2 but this been brainrotting me cos just imagine Desmond ending up enlisted in the millitary by some weird chance (like an undercovered mission after surviving from the Temple) and gets promoted really quick and somehow got to be got selected to be in task force 141 (they're SAS) and Desmond is like how the fuck I got selected? And everyone is like newbies doesn't take down very muscular soldiers four times their size easily and can walk silently on their feet. I also see him like some hot twink in the millitary because of Ezio charisma from his bleeds or maybe in an intimidating mysterious character because of the scar. I hope I didn't annoy you with this and btw I love your assassin's creed Ao3 works and would reread Yew Branches series and The White Aster of Masyaf 🥰❤

Hi nonny!

(Thank you! I'm so happy that the Yew Branches series and the White Aster of Masyaf so good that you would reread them and I would never be annoyed. I love getting asks of any kind and asks that makes me write plot are so fun to do ^w^)

So... My father and I play the campaign modes of all the COD games I can get my hands on for cheap XD (I have a soft spot for Advanced Warfare because the controls reminds me of Titantall 2 which is my favorite fps... next to Metro Last Light)

Unfortunately, this means that I haven’t played the reboot MW yet as I’m still waiting for them to go really cheap. :(

The OG MW Trilogy is my favorite COD campaign story though and I’ve seen some scenes so I have a vague idea of the plot of the reboot.

Anyway, let’s talk about how we can make this COD:MW x AC crossover work!

Of course, it will be set in Modern Day but that includes having all those advanced securities and other techs. Not to mention that military-grade tech is usually years ahead of the tech available to the public so it would be very risky for Desmond to falsify his records even if this was a joint Assassin-Erudito mission. Not just because of the army itself but also because Abstergo has got to have an ally or a plant there somewhere.

There is also that little thing with Abstergo posting his photos everywhere and going “have you seen this man?” but we’ll get back to that later.

I did briefly consider the idea of making this about Desmond joining the US army instead of becoming a bartender (maybe even going by the name 'Johnson' hmmmm?) but that wouldn't work since all those medical checkups would have flagged him immediately.

However…

A lot of military personnel having missions on foreign soil usually have a translator with them. Not only that, these translators are usually locals and, depending on the urgency and priority of the mission, background checks of translators could be spotty at times.

Enter Desmond using the fake id of one Eddie Richtofen (who is voiced by Nolan North in COD).

Now, in this setup, the mission has to be somewhere his Bleeds could help. This means a mission that needs a translator fluent in Italian, Arabic, or French. He’ll join as a translator for a ‘run in the mill’ job being conducted by the US Army, specifically by the US Army Rangers, 1st Battalion, 75th Regiment, Hunter 2-1 with Sergeant Foley and Private Ramirez.

They’re a special task force but this was meant to be one of the easy ones. Just a search and retrieve operation. Unfortunately, intel is too barebone so they have Desmond act as their translator when they need to talk to locals. Desmond was just there to confirm if there have been local Templar activities in the area and tagged along to make it easier to do recon.

Shit goes straight to the fan almost immediately because Desmond realizes all the locals they’re talking to are red. He and Ramirez have a kind of budding friendship going on because Desmond feels a kindred spirit for the quiet Ramirez who keeps getting ordered to do shit so he talks to Ramirez about it. Not about the Eagle Vision itself but about how something is just off with these locals. Something’s not right and all Desmond has is his guts.

Ramirez believes him because Desmond hasn’t lied to them and he gets Foley and the rest to be cautious.

That saves them when they get ambushed and the locals turn out to be an extremist group.

Things turned into a fucking shitstorm when the target they were sent to retrieve turns out to be a POE that is now hooked into this metal chamber and is emitting off the chart energy reading.

They have to retreat without retrieving the target because the extremists got reinforcement and Ramirez and Desmond get caught in a blast that sends them flying. Just as five men are about to shoot them, all five men dropped to the ground.

Desmond tries to get up but stops because he’s pretty sure he just broke a rib (or three) and sees three men quickly getting to their position. One of them knelt just ahead of them, semiautomatic aimed in front of them while the other two knelt next to Desmond and Ramirez.

The man next to Desmond wearing a tactical vest over a short sleeved black shirt informed calmly into the small radio strapped to his vest, “Bravo 7-1 to Bravo 0-6. We found two of the Americans.”

“Good work, Soap. Bring them in.”

“Roger that.”

And that’s when Desmond blacks out.

.

.

When Desmond wakes up, he’s now on a military base and he and Ramirez get debriefed about what just happened.

Long story short, Task Force 141 received more information about the POE (codename ‘Soma’) and they believe it’s being transported to Makarov who is their main target.

They still have no idea what ‘Soma’ is meant to do but those energy readings they had retrieved from Ramirez had given them an idea that it could be used to power something.

Or, worse, be used to cause a country-ending explosion.

Whatever Soma is meant to do, they must find it and intercept it before it could get to Makarov.

Of course, because there were American casualties, this has now become a joint mission between the US Army and SAS.

Taskforce 141 will be leading the operations and Ramirez gets drafted to join them as part of the whole ‘joint mission’ thing. Desmond gets roped in because they saw how he managed to take out many of the extremists with freaking knife throws and how everyone had a hard time seeing him as he stealth his way to taking out the extremists.

Of course, Desmond’s whole situation as part of the mission is iffy even when they received orders to take him in from the higher ups but someone Captain Price trusts vouches for him.

Captain MacMillan who may or may not be an Assassin who knows Bill Miles or may just be an ally of the Assassins. All Desmond knows is that MacMillan vouched for him with a “He’s my friend’s estranged son. Good man, terrible father. Kid went world-hopping to get away from his bastard of a father when he was sixteen.”

Not only that, this whole joint mission was scrambled together in a hurry and it was not helped by the fact that they need to find and retrieve Soma before it reaches Makarov so the Assassins were able to cobble together Desmond’s cover story and they had helped from the higher-ups in the US to make it all legit.

So Desmond Miles is now a military kid with a retired father who have all his missions classified. He’s now using his real name because the Assassins weren’t exactly that smart and they were on a time crunch too.

His world-hopping turned to him joining a secret task force (which may or may not have been implied to be the CIA) and the whole ‘terrorist thing’ was a way to get him some ‘street-cred’ so he could go undercover and infiltrate a secret terrorist group.

“Wait, if you were undercover since 2012, why are you now pretending to be a translator?” Soap asked with a slight frown.

“Mission was done.” Desmond shrugged, “Got a new mission. My handlers told me this translator job would be a good way to ease me back into the field.”

“And now you’re part of a joint task force under stressful time pressure. Wow, mate. Your luck sucks.”

“Yeah… it’s like the world hates me.”

.

.

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Unorganized Notes:

Soap, Ramirez, and Desmond are usually called the three stooges and they get roped into doing tasks together a lot during missions.

Desmond’s Haytham Bleed once slips and he starts speaking in his posh British accent when he gets into an argument with a member of Shadow Company, after that Gaz starts teasing him and calling him ‘milord’ much to his chagrin.

141 starts making bets on what is Desmond’s actual nationality. Haytham’s Bleed has Gaz firmly believe that Desmond is from old money (like all boys boarding school trust fund baby type) and is a British pretending to be an American. Soap thinks he’s European, probably Italian or French. Ghost didn’t want to join in but Soap is persistent so fuck it. He picks Middle Eastern because he once heard Desmond speak Arabic and Ghost just knows that accent is Syrian. (“How do you know his accent is Syrian?” “I just know.” “That’s not an answer, LT.”)

They meet up with Alejandro and Rudy later on because they believe Soma is traveling to Mexico and all of 141 loses it when they learn Desmond speaks Spanish (thanks to Ezio traveling to Spain for a bit)

Because of Desmond’s secretive past, his ability to turn anything into a weapon (even a freaking spoon), being a polygot, being very quick on his feet but staying quiet even when he’s holding a grenade launcher of all things, everyone is pretty sure he’s CIA.

Desmond’s unofficial nickname is ‘Spooks’ because they believe he’s CIA and he has a habit of making people jump whenever he’s suddenly next to them and they didn’t even hear him.

I don’t like how they made Shepherd into a typical corrupt military commander in the reboot so we’re sticking with OG Shepherd’s personality in this idea…………… this does mean that he has a more drastic plan for the future though

Speaking of Shepherd, Shepherd is an Assassin in this one. To be more precise, he’s the Bellec type of Assassin.

Captain Price has an idea of what the Assassins and Templars are but he’s not fully in the know. However, he does know Berg because he once had a mission with him back when Berg was part of the Finnish Special Forces (and Berg’s name was part of the shortlist for 141 members, he was removed when Price learned of his Abstergo affiliations)

Speaking of: Kate Laswell has been secretly looking into Abstergo but she’s been hitting brick walls and she’s sure it’s because someone in Abstergo is on to her. Since she’s CIA, she doesn’t mind getting her hands dirty and she’s been secretly colluding with Erudito to gain more intel on Abstergo. She doesn’t know about the Assassins yet but she’s sure that this little favor of helping Desmond be a CIA operative (with possible deniability of course) means that Desmond is part of Erudito and that Soma is connected to Abstergo.

Both Kate and Shepherd prepared different backstories for Desmond and both of them didn’t know about the other’s plans until Desmond was already noted to be a military kid turned CIA operative with missions filled with so many black lines it would have been easier to just leave full black papers on his files instead. That was… an awkward conversation to have.

Desmond is on his own because it's too risky to stay in contact with Shaun and Rebecca. However, Shaun and Rebecca leave messages that Desmond could only find if he uses his Eagle Vision in the army bases they're sure Desmond would stop by (thanks to Kate's intel). One of them leads to a box that has Desmond's hidden blade.

Captain Price may or may not have Eagle Vision. Desmond isn't sure yet.