#r6 doc (mentioned)

[unbindingkerberos]

Lost Kitten

Warning(s): Violence

Author's Notes: Probably the first fic that I've put much effort. The fic is named after a song after METRIC and it makes a brief appearance in the fic. Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 2971

Tags: @poisonedtruth @unpetitoiseau @chadillacboseman @children-of-epiales @infinitewhore @shegetsburned @linoleum-ice

Smoke wafts in the air as the scene in front unfolds. Debris scattered the ground and the black marks on the walls that made them. Men and women alike wailed in pain as they were struck with wounds; some minor and some dealing fatal blows. Gustave and a handful of other medics surround the scene treating the wounded while the other operators help. 

This wasn't what Marius was expecting when he returned from a mission. He had completely forgotten about his teammates and rushed to the scene, hoping Henry was alright. But his fear, the coiling sensation in his stomach, increases when he can't see him anywhere. He hears himself calling his name but is met with silence. Marius searches aimlessly, his voice close to a scream. 

Marius should have stayed-- helped with the others fending them off. But who could have started this? Deimos. It was Deimos. It was obviously him. He had been getting more bolder with his attacks.

Something shiny catches his eye.

It shimmered in the soot of a broken wall that splattered like dried blood. He steps closer and crouches down. He picks up and shakes the soot off of the object. Marius felt his heart stop and his eyes went wide. His hand shakes as he moves the item closer: the familiar head of Henry's Leeches. He feels his world crashing down; spiraling uncontrollably. 

He hears a pair of footsteps behind him. Marius turns to see Jordan and Emil-- who recently joined. "Jordan?" He brings himself to his feet and approaches them. His feet never felt so heavy and each step he took was painfully tantalizing. "Jordan.." He lets Leech's head clatter to the floor. "Jordan." Tears sting Marius's eyes as he puts both of his hands on Jordan's shoulders. "Jordan, where's Henry?"

Emil looks to Jordan with a puzzled expression. "He knows the mole--" "Marius." Jordan gives Marius a weak smile, breath hitching once in a while with an uneven pacing. 

"Marius, there's something I have to tell you."

--

"What?!" Jordan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Emil narrows his eyes, leaning closer. "How else would Deimos expect your attacks and penetrate your defenses?" Jordan pinches the bridge of his nose. The situation was getting worse by every passing second.

"You're telling me there's a mole within RAINBOW?" 

Emil nods, making him groan in frustration. There's over a dozen operators and personnel inside the facility. Whoever had done this made sure to cover up their tracks, adding to his pile of problems.

Jordan knew all of the people in the facility-- some even close friends with him. It feels so wrong to engage in a witch hunt but this was the fate of the lives of the people they're talking about here.

He clasps his hands together, trembling slightly.

"You've got anyone in mind?"

--

Emil sees him sometimes. The man with the motorcycle helmet. 

The man would often watch from afar, observing Emil work with Deimos spectating beside him. Other times he'd come close and personal, striking a conversation with him about the formula he's been working on. Although he didn't know Deimos well, Emil very well knows that his employer doesn't allow most of his mercenaries the privilege to show Emil's experiments. Whoever this was, they were important.

Later on, he'd find the mystery man's company to be somewhat tolerable.

"Tell it not to touch that…"

Emil eyes the man's drone, close to remove a vial from the rack. He had forgotten the first time the man let his drones roam in his laboratory. Emil had found them to be quite a nuisance: breaking lab equipment and scaring off his assistants. "Let it have its fun." The man replies, sultry and playful voice muffled by the helmet. Emil huffs. "And let it break another vial?" The man shrugs, watching the drone lay flat on its back after successfully extracting the vial. It chitters erratically and struggles to flip over. Emil notices this and pauses his work, flipping it the other side. "They cost a lot, you know?" With a careful tug, the empty vial is free of the drone's grasp. It walks away with a defeated chitter. "Right, but our employer can supply another batch."

"You abuse his generosity." Emil groans as the mouse begins  to claw itself to death, cracking the containment glass. "And you abuse his patience. You know full well he demands a perfected serum." Emil glares at the masked man, nostrils flaring up. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?" Sensing his rising anger, the man chuckles.

"Already have and now I'm here to kill time, something wrong with that wolf boy?"

Emil rolls his eyes. He hated that nickname. "Yes, you're interrupting my progress-- you and you're--" Emil trails off seeing the drone sliding a drawer open before burrowing its entire weight inside, shredding papers in the process--"pet…." 

"Aww, don't be like that Fenrir." He pinches Emil's cheeks eliciting an annoyed growl from the Norwegian. The audacity that the man has to treat him like some sort of child. "I know you enjoy their company." While he doesn't like to admit, Emil those somewhat find amusement with the drones. He'd compare them to puppies-- if they were weirdly shaped and have a surveillance camera for a head. 

Something vibrates in the man's pocket and he curses. He steps away and brings the phone to his ear. 

"Yes… I already did." Emil glances at the other, listening quietly. "I've seen that the NIGHTHAVEN equipment would reach the designated coordinates… No doubt, they'll send us to ambush them…" The man scoffs. "Trust the process, I'll make a distraction for Cohen and her lapdogs then I'll give you the intel. No changes." He hangs up. 

"Who's Cohen?"

"I didn't take you as an eavesdropper, Fenrir." The man slings a backpack on his arms, the straps fitting nicely. "But I suggest you don't ask anymore questions." The man flashes a look. "For your sake." His hand was floating on the door handle when Emil called for him. He tosses something and the man intercepts, chuckling upon viewing the object. "Nearly forgot about you…" The drone chitters angrily before crawling into a pocket. 

"Wait.."

"What now?"

Emil steps forward. "What are you and Deimos really up to?" There has been some growing suspicion that everything wasn't as it seems. Everything doesn't add up and the questions he's asked about his employment is ignored or belittled. This time the man steps forward, too close that sends Emil retreating into a corner. All the playfulness from earlier vanished and was replaced into something else.

For the first time, the man lifts his visor up revealing cold brown eyes-- devoid of emotion and he feels like staring into the eyes of a predator. "Do your job and I do mine. Ask the wrong questions and you'll regret it."

The man leaves and Emil is left with more questions.

What has he gotten himself into?

--

"Mr. Trace.." Henry looks up to see him surrounded by armed guards. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Jordan sits in front of him. The people in the cafeteria fall silent and watch. Henry feels his blood throbbing violently and his finger itches for a trigger. Something clangs to the table only for it to be one of his Leeches. He musters up a forced smile. "M16, what did you do this time?" A figure steps forward and Henry's smile nearly drops. 

Emil Svensson stands behind Jordan, eyes focused on him. Henry bites his lower lip and flashes a look at the Leech who seemed to understand the situation. He taps his feet to the floor, feeling the many crawling legs of his Leeches depart to the floor. 

Fuck.

"It's him." Emil says and Jordan nods to the guards. Henry groans when his head hits the table, arms positioned to his back and wrists cuffed. For good measure, one of the guards takes off his watch, a scowl present on his face.

"Jordan, what's going on?" Elias enters the scene, glancing at Henry then back to Jordan. "Don't worry, we'll explain everything to you later.." Henry struggles and catches a glimpse of the German's horrified expression. "Take him to interrogation." Jordan orders and Henry groans in pain when the guards force him up. He hears the growing argument between Elias and Jordan as they leave.

"I had a feeling it was you." Henry stares at Emil. "The moment they said that a member of Deimos's organization defected to RAINBOW, I knew it had to be you…" Emil's face hardens and he gives Henry a fierce look. "Deimos is a dangerous man who won't stop killing millions to get what he wants." He points a damning finger. "And you helped him.."

"Their deaths were necessary.."

"Necessary for what?!" They've stopped now and the guards' grip on him tightened. "What kind of future do you see with the deaths of millions of lives?" Henry smiles. "A peaceful one-- who'd want to start a war knowing the cost of lives that made it possible?" Emil's fist clenched but made no move to strike. "You're insane."

"And so is this.."

A group of Leeches latch on to the guards, crushing their bones with ease. They squirm and groan in pain as they struggle to free them of their flesh. Emil moves to draw his gun, but is stopped when one of his Leeches launches itself to his face, knocking him out. Onlookers screamed and ran away from the scene but Henry ignored them as T7 freed him from his cuffs while Z20 took his watch from a guard's pocket and tossed it to him.

"Great teamwork everyone." Henry looks over to the exit. He makes a run for it with the Leeches trailing behind. He hears voices behind him followed by zipping bullets. One manages to hit his shoulder but he doesn't stop running. Another grazes his side and still he doesn't stop. His Leeches scatter to the walls and ceilings. "A12 stop.." He's managed to get outside now, the sun heating him up and wind tugging at the loose flesh from his open wound. The Leech in question stops itself from joining the others and chirps curiously. He picks it up and whispers something to it before letting it scurry away.

"Adler!" He looks up to see Jordan with a couple of operators, guns pointing at him. "Adler, stop what you're doing." The man orders the others to lower their weapons. Despite the unease and protests, they comply. "Adler… Please don't make us do this. Think about him-- about Marius." Henry clenches his jaw tightly. He gulps. 

"Don't--" he lifts his arm up-- "talk to me about Marius…"

Jordan's eyes widen and he looks up to the ceiling then to the walls. "Everyone, fall back! RUN!"

His shoulder felt so heavy, feeling the blood trickle of the fresh wound. Henry smiles widely and his finger presses a button on the watch. The Leeches began rapidly beeping and panic fuels the operators, encouraging them to run faster.

"Boom."

And Henry sends Hell to RAINBOW's doorstep. Using the chaos to his advantage and gathering his remaining strength, Henry gets on his bike and drives off amidst the smoke.

He'll understand. Marius loves me and he'll understand. His arms tremble at the thought. He'll understand… He has too. Henry closes his eyes, feeling the heat of the sun and dripping sweat. I'm doing this for the fate of this world. Of course he'll understand… Right?

He opens his eyes. There's no turning back now and he's reached the point of no return.

--

Marius slumps against the door and slides down. He engages in a tight embrace with Henry's motorcycle jacket. Henry's room was cleaned out for inspection. They've taken most of his things and Marius could only retrieve a few. He buries his face into the leather, breathing in his scent. He left in a hurry. He forgot to take his jacket with him. Everything felt like a bad dream and Marius hoped that he'd wake up soon. But everytime he opens his eyes, Marius is painfully reminded that this was reality. That everything happened.

Did he use him for information? Did Henry actually love him? Marius wouldn't dare to delve deeper into those questions, knowing it would hurt him more. He'd try to counter it back with that memory of Henry saving him from that explosion and all those genuine moments they shared with each other. But it wasn't enough to drown out those thoughts. Instead it amplified them and Marius wished they would just disappear. He feels his phone vibrate but he ignores it. The first thing that will be on its screen would be a photo of Henry; smiling widely as they sat on the beach, watching the sunset. 

He just wishes everything would go back to the way it is. 

Something crashes inside the vents. Marius's head is quick to spring up, staring intensely at the source. The grating comes off and a familiar shape falls to the floor. 

"You.."

Marius recognises the Leech, A12-- the drone crawling towards him. Everyone said that Henry used his entire stock for his escape but it appears they were wrong. Marius offers his palm and A12 hops to the surface. "What are you doing here?"

It chitters in morse code, Marius listening carefully. The German tears up upon the last word.

With this drone, I'll always be with you.

[NOW PLAYING "Lost Kitten - METRIC"]

He chokes on his tears as he brings the Leech closer to his chest. The moment was short lived when a knock sent Marius tensing up, wiping away his tears.

"Marius--" it's Elias--"are you okay in there?" Marius looks over to the Leech now staring at him. Logic dictates for him to bring the drone over to Elena and the others to extract footage from the camera. But he can't. He won't.

"Ja, I am…"

("Don't say yes, if you can't say no~")

"Alright, then.. Take care, I'll give you more time.." Unseen footsteps trail off, growing fainter and fainter.

Ever since he had heard the news, the other operators came to his comfort. Elias being one of them. He admires his fellow German's personality and is grateful for it. But it isn't enough to get him back into high spirits. 

("Victim of the system, say it isn't so~)

And he's back to being alone. He returns his focus to A12 still in his palm, snuggling its entire weight against his hollow chest. ("Squatted on the doorstep, swollen on the blow~") His smile returns even for a quick moment. ("Leaving without you can't say no~") 

Komm zu mir zurück, Liebling.

("Halfway starts with happiness for me~")

--

("Halfway house, lost kitten in the streets~")

The sun begins to set as Henry continues to drive. His vision starts to get hazy no doubt from the blood loss. He doesn't know how long he's been driving and he jokes that this is some sort of purgatory and that he's already dead. The looming complex from the distance comes to his view. ("Hit me where it hurts, I'm coming home to lose~")

Nearing the base Henry is stopped by guards. He identifies himself and the guards allow him passage. Henry parks his motorcycle near some vehicles and steps off. The moment his feet reach the ground ("Kitten on the catwalk, high-heeled shoes~") he loses his vision and his whole world goes black. 

--

The moment he regains his consciousness, Henry feels like shit. His wound was all patched up but everything else hurt. His head throbbed ("No more hard-headed Saturdays~") and his eyes strained from the harsh lighting. Deimos pays him a visit and Henry can tell even with the mask that the man was irritated and amused by Henry's current predicament. They exchanged some "friendly" banter and poorly disguised threats before they went straight to the point.

"It was Svensson wasn't it?"

"Who else would it be?"

Deimos sighs, fingers twitching. "He was always weak-minded-- failing to see the bigger picture." ("They got it, they want it, they give it away~") Deimos lets out a low dry laugh. "Oh well, the plan will carry on, with or without Svensson." Henry must have made a face because he feels a sudden grip on his chin. "What's the matter Babel?" Henry gasps as Deimos pushes his chin up to meet his gaze. "Made some friends there? Having--" the grip on his tightens, the texture of Deimos's gloves digging into his skin-- "second thoughts?" 

Henry glares daggers at Deimos, heart pounding in his chest. He would never let this man make him fear him. ("Tell me one thing that you would never do~") "Then I would have never come here in the first place." Henry bites back, restraining himself. Deimos hums. Despite not being satisfied with the answer, Deimos lets him go. 

"Report to me first thing tomorrow morning." Once Deimos was gone, Henry let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. 

He puts on some clothes that were laid out for him. I didn't know you're thoughtful, Henry sneers. He finds himself sitting alone in infirmary, finding no energy to leave. With his thoughts running loose, Henry's mind wanders but all he could see was him ("I was looking for a hooker when I found you~").

That reminds him.

He checks his digital watch and checks A12's live feed ("You've got my eyes, you've got my eyes~"). The screen crackles to life showcasing a sleeping Marius and Henry smirks. You've finally slept early. His finger reaches for Marius but he draws it back ("You'll never be mine, ahhh~"). He turns the screen off, the black mirrored surface reflecting Henry's blank slate of a face ("But you've got my eyes~").

Goodnight.

[PAUSE SONG]

[venomous-ragno]

Writing advice...

... About military things by a soldier :)

You wanna write a story with a militaristic setting, like CoD or R6S? You wanna create an oc with a military background, but you don't know where to start?

Well, lucky for you or not I know what that feels like and I've also got the combat / real life experience to help ya out!

Feel free to hop in my askbox or dm's and ask questions. I'll gladly elaborate and do my best to answer in full and plenty:)

Disclaimer: My experiences and knowledge are mostly based on the German military, the Bundeswehr. They may differ from those of other countries.

Happy writing y'all :)

Pt. 4 / ?: Habits a soldier most likely has (due to the military)

1. Never wearing parts of their uniform in combination with civilian clothing. Not only is it forbidden by military law, it also just feels wrong. Superiors go feral when they see it.

2. Sleeping absolutely everywhere and anywhere, likely huddled up with comrades. 48h work days exist. You can't be picky about where or when you sleep - your body needs it and you need your body. A comrade of mine used to have a blanket she'd carry around at all times. It wasn't particularly thick or fluffy, but it made sleeping cramped in some dirty back room propped against a wall just a bit more comfortable. Yes, we all cuddled.

3. Staying awake no matter how exhausted you are.

4. Being a neat freak. Our uniform and overall appearance must always be flawless and in line with current standards. Gear must be cleaned and polished after every use. Not only that, but needing things to be in one exact place and knowing by heart where everything is. God have mercy on those that mess up our patterns.

5. Nicotine or caffeine addiction. 9.9/10 soldiers are addicted to either one, most likely both though. Chugging a 0,5l monster energy at 5am is normal.

6. Ignoring non lethal wounds and ailments until it's no longer possible or a superior forces you to go see the doc. Pretty self explanatory. You just get used to being all in even when your whole body aches and you've had a combined 30mins of sleep that night - heck, it's what we're trained to do. Tough to admit to yourself that you need a break though.

7. Using the NATO alphabet to spell words, no matter the context. You'd make a call somwher, they ask you to spell your name and you do just that - most often gaining confused reactions by civilians. Similar to this: Using military phrases like stand by and good to go no matter the environment you're in. (Not to mention the phonetic alphabet)

8. Being a fast eater. Sometimes you got about 5 minutes to wolf down an entire meal.

9. Learning to observe before chiming in. If you even chime in at all.

10. Taking hats off when going inside any kind of building.

[chadillacboseman]

Hey I was wondering if it was possible if u could do a doc x reader where the reader is constantly getting injured ,hitting head etc and if not that’s fine, love your writing❤️❤️

"You have to be more careful, mon amour," Gustave shook his head as he dabbed at the wound on your forehead with a damp cloth.

The newest contusion was the result of knocking your forehead squarely against a shelf in the kitchen while retrieving something from the cupboards below.

"Believe me, I'm trying my best," you winced as he passed the cloth over the swelling and he tutted gently.

"Shall I wrap you in bubble wrap?" he grinned and you rolled your eyes.

"Been this way all my life," you mused quietly, "Even as a kid."

Gustave paused to rummage in his first aid kit and produced a bandage, which he placed over the small gash. He ran his thumb over it lightly before placing a kiss gently alongside it.

"I wouldn't change you," he whispered as he pulled your head to his chest.

"Promise?" you chuckled and he tightened his grip.

"I promise," He pulled away and smiled widely, his dark eyes softening as he looked into yours, "Plus, it's good practice, always having to bandage you up. Keeps me sharp."

You shook your head and ran a thumb along his stubbled jawline,

"Anything I can do to help."

[steadydescentintomadness]

Collection: The Scalpel and the Skull    Fandom: Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six (Video Games) Rating: Teen and Up     Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply     Characters: Taina “Caveira” Pereira, Gustave “Doc” Kateb, Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon, Olivier “Lion” Flament  Word Count: 8.8k

Gustave flung open the door to medical bay with one brutal elbow, easily ignoring the dull pangs it caused; the savage headache and split lip more than dwarfed that pain. He gave the door a shove, and by the time it slammed home, he was plopping down into the wheeled stool of his desk. White noise hummed in his ears—monstrous gnats taunting him. He plucked two white latex gloves out of the opened box sitting up by on his desk. Readying them, he stared at his hands. Smears and speckles of crimson dressed the skin there. Spreading between the digits. Under his nails. Sinking into the lines and whorls of his fingerprints. Was it his? Was it Olivier’s? There was no way to differentiate the two—they were the exact same.

We’re not the exact same, Gustave thought. I’m nothing like him.

And yet their blood muddled together into one united mess of red upon his hands.

Gustave slipped one skin-tight glove on to conceal that fact. The latex snapped into place around his wrist, fingers wriggling in deeper until the glove sat right. He pulled the second glove on as well, and then just like that, he was out of a task. 

Now what?

One meagre stack of paperwork covered the top of his desk. Other documents were scattered there too—medical profiles, Mira’s notes for a fresh review of Finka’s adrenal surge, a blood analysis form. Amongst either miscellaneous things like an old cup of coffee, pens, an amethyst geode hosting a tree of metal and wires, clipboards, a water bottle he meant to refill but never got around to. The endeavour to bury himself in work and strangle out all emotions was trumped by a sudden and primal desire to scream. To knock everything aside. To throw it on the ground and have a tantrum like a petulant child, and he hated himself for it.

Jerking open one of the top drawers of his desk, he slipped an arm inside and rummaged around blindly. Fingertips scraped over various unidentifiable objects until they found a small box. He selected the item. Withdrawing it, Gustave gave it a quick survey to confirm.

The cherry red and pearl white box proudly proclaimed Marlboro in black writing.

Thank Christ.

It was a terrible vice he had meant to rid of for good. And if someone were to ask, he’d claim he had, but there were moments, and sometimes the pandemonium in those moments were too much for him to take; so he took it out on something else.

Gustave flicked open the red lid with one thumb, and he quickly selected a cigarette from the pack. Securing the box shut again, he tossed it back into the open drawer and rifled through it for a lighter.

Knock, knock.

He blinked twice, shattering a bitter reverie holding him captive. 

‘Someone is knocking at the door,’ his mind tried to tell his body. Yet he just sat there—cigarette in one hand, lighter in the other. Feeling fire and acid burn against his tongue like a wraith. Tantalizing. Calling for him.

While it's no secret that Doc and Lion have never really gotten along, the origin of their deep-rooted dislike of each other has always been lesser known—even to Cav. One day tempers boil over, and both tensions and truths rise to the surface.

[lacklustergalaxies]

Whumptober 2019 Day 1: Shaky Hands

[Masterpost]

This is day one of @whumptober2019. I (Swirl) will be trying to write this event, and hopefully I can do all days. Also, since this is a multifandom blog, each day might be a diff fandom :))

The prompt was shaky hands, so here’s Doc dealing with the stress of working on someone he cares for. (460 words)

WARNINGS: Needles, unintentional abuse by a doctor, mentions of violence, mission gone wrong.

“Rook!”

Doc was the first one on the bloody man laying on the ground. Just one look at the bloody and tattered wounds made his heart sink. People don’t just… recover from explosions.

“Doc,” he whimpered. “Help…”

“Shhh, je suis ici. Reste.”

Rook looked up with those blue eyes and stared into Doc’s eyes. “It hurts.”

“Je sais, je sais.” Doc started scanning the bodies.

When he first started, he had to learn about his ABCs. No, not the a for apple, but a for airway. Where they alive? Breathing? How was their circulation? …Deadly bleeding… There was a thick river of blood coming from under the heavy armour they were wearing. The first thing he did was use his stim to help coagulate the blood that was starting to stain his fresh pair of white gloves.

Blood on white, a red scarf lost among the piles of snow… a child by themselves, bloody, beaten, bruised.

“Ahh,” Rook’s moan shook Doc out of his daydream.

“Stay still. Don’t move, Rook,” Doc murmured. But something was off.

He looked up at Mute, who had taken a seat next to Doc. The other operator wasn’t staring at Rook though, he was looking right at Doc. Slowly, Doc inhaled and looked back down at the wound he was looking at. No… it wasn’t Rook who was moving – the younger operator was barely conscious – it was his hand that was shaking, and by extension, the needle. It kept dipping, pressing against the flesh so quickly, and so inconsistently, that even Doc had to wince.

An explosion drew Mute away, hopefully to establish a perimeter while Doc tried again to refocus.

“Doc… S…S’il te… plait…” There was no anesthetic on a mission that had already gone on for far too long. He was out, and Rook was going to having to suffer from it. With deep breaths, he looked back down on the cut he was trying to stitch, and took a deep breath. No doubt, Rook could feel every waver from the needle inside him and gave a little whimper every time Doc quivered from the scent of blood and sweat.

“No more… ah-” the sharp gasps and whimpers weren’t helping Doc, who, more and more, was having trouble reminding himself that this wasn’t one of the many lost causes he had come to see on the field.

An insertion, a waver, a pull, a twitch. The whimpers didn’t stop, but Doc couldn’t either. A push, a shake, a hiss of pain, a quivering needle. The moans faded into the background – into the screams of dying men, and Doc could do nothing but hope to god that Rook wouldn’t remember this when he was fully conscious again.

“I’m…” it was getting bad. Each whimper made his heart clench, and each tear that fell shook his hands more. “I’m so sorry, Rook. Desolé.”

[rainbowsixxreader]

The zombie outbreak had surprised everybody, especially when it was no longer contained, it began to affect people in every country, Gustave did his best to study it and try to find a cure, but to no avail.

“Dr. Kateb?” You poked your head into the room, you were a medic in the field, helping the doctor with his research. “I got what you asked for, I can already notice something in the blood.” You walked into the room and gently placed the jar onto his desk, Gustave looked at it and raised his eyebrow, white flecks painted the infected blood.

“Are you okay though?” He asked, his eyes tearing away from the blood and meeting yours, you were covered in blood, to whom it belonged to he didn’t know and he didn’t ask the lengths you went to obtain the specimens for him.

“As fine as always, haven’t inhaled anything, no bites or scratches either. I think I’m okay.” You shrugged. “I have to go though, we lost another field medic today, and more agents.” You explained grimly, your eyes landed on the floor. You didn’t want to admit the only two medical staff left were you and Gustave, if he knew he’d enter the field too, but he was Team Rainbow’s only hope in developing a cure to this disease. He nodded and turned his attention back to the jar.

“Dominic!” You yelled, you watched the man scramble to get out of the room filled with the living dead, your eyes left him to look at Kapkan who was bleeding out in your lap, everybody was wounded the team overwhelmed in your safe house. You sat Maxim up against a wall as you went to assist Dominic in fighting over the hoards of monsters attacking him.

Though all was lost when one scratched the German man, the door had been closed and you were left alone with Maxim and Dominic, the loud pounding on the thin door to be ignored. Your eyes scanned his sweater the large tear marks on his arm.

“Scheiße..” He cursed, holding his arm. You collapsed beside Maxim, staring up at Dominic. “You can’t fix this, can you Mediziner?” He asked and you shook your head in response, he looked defeated but understood. “It’s been good working with you.” He offered a small smile before lifting his pistol to his head and pulling the trigger, you flinched and looked away as his body crumpled to the ground.

You turned your attention to Maxim, but it was too late, the Russian trapper had succumbed to the bullet wounds littering his side. You pulled off your bloodied gloves and ran your fingers through your hair, you were the last operator standing, you tried so hard, the pounding on the door got louder and you looked up as the wood splintered, you raised your gun to shoot.

The door smashed open to reveal the large GIGN shield, Gilles moved into the room, stepping over bodies and making his way over to you. “Are you okay?” He asked, as he helped you up, you leaned against the large French man and nodded, Gilles’ eyes left you and landed on the two dead operators, he sighed and helped you out of the room.

“Gustave?” You opened the door to reveal the empty office, you stepped in, shutting the door behind you. You moved towards his desk where a neatly folded note lay, your name in cursive was on the note, you sat on his chair and opened it.

“Dear (y/n), I was summoned for a mission and I am unable to continue the antidote. I have left all of my notes behind in a folder in the bottle drawer of my desk. Please work on the antidote while I am gone. Best Wishes, Kateb.”

You read the note over and over again and furrowed your eyebrows, you were a medic not a doctor, you didn’t know where to even start, you opened the drawer and pulled out the folder. It contained all of the research notes Gustave had, including the information he gathered from you in the field, you read it over and over until you had an idea of what the doctor was working on.

“(Y/n)! Doc has been injured we need your help!” Julien called you, you held open the door as Gilles and Elias rolled him in, the two men set him down on the examination table, you put on your surgical mask and ushered the three men out of the room and turned your attention to Gustave.

“I was bit, there isn’t much we can do.” Gustave showed you his leg, a large bloodied bitemark was embedded in his leg. You frowned behind your mask and moved towards one of the counters in the room. You produced a purple liquid in a vial, and sighed, hesitant to turn around and face the doctor.

“I don’t know if this’ll work or if it’ll kill you. I found a way to duplicate the virus and found what attacks it, the thing is.” You turned around and faced him. “The thing is it also attacks your heart.” You explained to the doctor as you filled a syringe with the purple liquid.

“Just try it, it’s better to try it on somebody who’s been bit anyways.” He held out his arm for you to pierce his skin. You pushed the needle into his vein and let the purple liquid disappear from the syringe and into him, you pulled the needle out once it was empty and wiped off his skin.

For the next few days you watched over the doctor, but things weren’t looking good. The antidote worked but the side effects were tremendous. You placed a cold cloth against his head as his fever spiked again, this was all your fault, if only you were a better healer. Gustave’s hand reached for yours and clutched it tightly, and you were saddened as you gave him a small squeeze.

The doctor passed away that night in your arms, heart failure. The war outside of your base raged on, you lost many good soldiers, many good men and women devoted to fighting to keep the innocent safe. And you still couldn’t find the perfect antidote.

[itsohh]

Infection Hour 0

A/N: This isn’t taken place in extraction nor chimera. If I had to place it in the timeline it would be in R6S timeline after chimera (but before Nighthaven). This is a reader x doc but he is only mentioned. Friendship with Olivier. While I think this just ended up being gender netural (I think I never used any pronouns) I will state in the odd case that I did that this is f!reader. I never posted anything R6 related but regardless I hope ya’ll enjoy it. 

Summary: While out on a mission you get infected by a virus and Olivier has to deal with making the hard decision of leaving you behind.

Word count: 1695

Warnings: Canon typical violence

AO3

Split from the rest of your squad, tension hung in the air as you carefully walked with Olivier. While you weren't a medical professional you knew the gist of the situation you were in. The gear you wore protected you from the rabies-like virus that had infected the town. Rainbow had been called in to help with the situation. "No response on coms." Olivier's voice cut through the silence and the sound of a male voice caught your attention.

"Get back!" The pair of you turned toward the man on the ground, his arm had dried blood over it, matching the blood stains from his mouth onto his once blue shirt.

"Sir, we are here to help. We mean no harm." He coughed and hacked at your words. A side eye to Olivier, his safety was off.

"Get back! Like hell am I going to be one of those things. Everyone in here is dead walking." He waved his hand and your eyes caught sight of the detonator.

"Sir please put it down. We are here to help." You took a step forward, a wrong move. Olivier's arm wrapped around your waist at the sound of the explosion. He pulled the pair off you to the ground, the blast going off at the same time. Olivier's voice was cut off from your ears as ringing echoed in your head. The only thing in your vision was the black piece of metal- lodged millimeters from your face, the mask protecting your face. In a panicked movement, you yanked the mask off. The acrylic was all cracked and ruined from the piece of shrapnel. With heavy breaths, you calmed down before you rummaged around on your body for a replacement mask. Unfortunately, you didn't have another full face mask but a medical one. It wouldn't protect you the same but it was better than nothing.

After placing on the mask, your previous one lay forgotten Olivier offered you a hand up which you took. "Guess they don't call you Lucky for nothing hmm?" The joke cause a small smile to form on your face as Olivier tried to defuse the situation.

"Yeah, shit." Your shook off the almost death.

"Are you alright? We need to take it carefully, you're at higher risk without proper equipment."

"Yeah let's get going and try to regroup with the rest of the squad. Go for extraction."  

The pair of you continued to walk through the old building, bodies littered the grounds, blood staining the floors and walls. You nodded to Olivier as he opened the door for you. In an instant,  a woman clambered over you. Her voice stopped you from pulling the trigger, "please you have to help me." She clawed at you desperately, her head looking over her shoulder. Her hands found purchase on your mask pulling on it. When she turned to face you she started coughing, blood spraying onto your face and mouth.

In an instant she was shoved to the ground, Olivier's wide eyes had her at gunpoint as she continued to cough. Yet her focus was on the infected behind her. Glassy eyes of those fully infected behind her- foam at the mouth. The virus had a range of possible symptoms, not everyone ended up violent and deranged but all ended up dead. Olivier didn't hesitate as he took them out. The woman moved onto her hands and knees and she continued to cough up blood- gasping for air. She collapsed down onto the ground, blood pouring from her lips as she twitched until she stopped moving. With a tissue from your pocket, you wiped the blood from your face, mask stripped on the ground. Olivier paused when he turned to you. He didn't close the gap. Slowly you got to your feet. Next to you was a private medical room, one which you walked into and locked the door behind.

"Three hours." Olivier's voice came over the coms. It was how long it took for the results of the infection to show. It was a fast-moving virus with no cure or vaccination. There was a small window on the door and you nodded to him. The pair of you stared at each other for a minute before you sat down on the ground, you shuffled so your back was against the door. "There's still the possibility that you didn't get infected." He offered you hope through the coms.

"She coughed in my mouth Olivier. I may be lucky but I don't think I'm that lucky."

Silence. It filled the air after your comment. The seconds ticked into minutes and your nerves started to get the better of you.

"Talk to me, Olivier. About anything. Please." Your voice wavered and you didn't doubt he could hear the fear in your voice.

"I'm sorry. If it counts. I should have been faster to-"

"I change my mind. Not about anything, don't apologise, please. If there was the chance that she was an uninfected survivor panicking for help it was worth the risk. Tell me about something- how's the son?"

Olivier paused as he proceeded your words. "Safe, I doubt I'll see him for a while. No need to put them at risk in the odd case I get infected. He's smart, a good kid."

His voice choked. "Mmm I don't have a kid but my sister did. A girl, about twelve."

"I didn't know you have a sister."

"Had, she died in childbirth. Complications, it wasn't preventable."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Ah it's been a long time, she was older than me. We didn't always get along and all that but… she was family."

"Who looks after your niece?"

"I sometimes see her when I'm in the country and I have time off but she lives with her father. My brother in law, my parents died a while back. He's a little rough around the edges but he loves her to bits. I-" you choked on your words as tears started to form on your face. The thought of not seeing her again. "She struggles in school. I'm helping pay for medical help for her. She just needs a bit of patience and care yah know?"

"What's her name?"

"Hope. My brother-in-law named her. I-I miss her.  My sister and I…We always used to argue but I-I still loved her. She's buried back in my country. I know my body will have to be burnt if ever recovered but could you visit her? Introduce her Gustave for me? God, it's almost surreal, I guess I figured that when I died it would be quick like getting shot."

"I'll take Gustave to see her."

"Gods Gustave is going to have a fit. Whatever he says or does I'm sorry."

"We still don-"

"Olivier, please. You're the biggest realist out of all of us."

"Perhaps Gustave is rubbing off on me."

"No matter what you can't let him do anything stupid or reckless. Please don't let his emotions get the best of him, I don't want him getting hurt. I'm sorry I'm asking a lot of you."

"I assure you it's nothing. You're a good friend to me, Lucky. It's the least I can do. I'll stay with you until we know for certain and then as long as I can afterwards."

"On one hand I don't want you to be at more risk but on the other- I don't want to be alone so I'm just going to settle with a thank you." There was a weary expression on your face, not that he could see it.

"I guess this is going to put an end to the running bet." You rubbed the drying tears from your face at his words.

"Running bet?"

"All of us in GIGN have had a bet on how long it would take for the pair of you to get married- engaged." A laugh stifled from your mouth.

"Oh? And what were the bets?"

"Emmanuelle bet the lowest amount of time at two years. Then Gillies said three and then Julian said five years."

"Five years? Why so long?"

"He figured that Gustave wouldn't do it- not because he didn't care but he thought that Gustave would be too focused on his work or just too nervous. So he figured it would take five years for you to get fed up and ask." Olivier's explanation brought a smile to your face.

"What about you Olivier?"

"I didn't bet. I'm the one that's holding onto the pool."

"Damn really? I totally could have inside traded this." There wasn't an immediate reply and you shut your eyes.

"When Gustave calms down. Tell him I love him yeah? Please tell him that I don't want him to be swallowed into his work."

"I can do that for you."

"Thanks, Olivier."

The red timer on your watch went. The moment of truth. You pulled one of the tests from your leg picked and bunched up your arm. With a quick stab, you jammed it into your arm. Then you waited. Ten minutes passed and you looked down at the result. Silence. You gathered yourself to your feet and then pulled down the rest of the locks for the door. Olivier got to his feet and stared at you through the window.

"Olivier it's time for you to leave." Your voice was just loud enough to get through the communication. You flipped the result and pressed it against the glass window, showing him the positive result. "Please go, you spent long enough with me." Your eyes trained down to the pistol on your belt. "When it comes to it I can take care of myself. There's no reason for you to go down with me." Your eyes met his through the window. "Thank you, Olivier, I've enjoyed being your friend."

Your name left his lips and he paused before continuing. "I'm sorry it ended like this, thank you for being a great operator and friend. I've enjoyed being your friend." A smile was given to him from you through the glass and you gave him a casual two-fingered salute before he turned. "Goodbye Lucky."

"Goodbye Lion."

[demilitarised-zone]

Tagged by @r6sshippingdelivery. Grazie:)

Name:

Giulia, Tee or Teetierchen, whatever's most comfy for ya

Nationality:

British - Italian

PC or console:

PC

Time played:

Well over 1500 hours

Highest rank:

Unranked to date, but judging by the matchmaking I'm somewhere in plat

Defense or attack:

Defense, always. I'm more of a supportive, defensive player, hence why I'm most comfortable anchoring

Mains:

Doc (80% pickrate on him), Mute, Kaid and Kapkan in defense & Finka, Fuze, Glaz and Zofia in attack. (Special mentions to Lion, Nomad and Hibana, cause I'm playing those quite often too)

Favourite female voice:

Uff... None, really. They're all super good, tho I liked Hibana's old voice more than the new one and Mira's new one is so bad😭

Favourite male voice:

Glaz, perhaps? Just bc I love him so much, cause otherwhise I don't have a fave. (Tho the Russian's voices are all, ahem, good)

Favourite gun:

Probably the MP5 cause it's the one I'm most familiar with in game and irl

Favourite gamemode:

Bomb, cause it's the most balanced, but also T-Hunt, and let's not forget hide and seek in a custom match!

Season I started in:

Operation Black Ice^^

Favourite ship:

I don't really have a favourite, but Dokkeabi/Mute is kinda cute!

Least favourite ship:

Nothin.

Do you write about R6S? If so, for who and what?

I write everything for everyone. There's little taboo's I have, none that people would request anyway. As of now the onyl requests I turned away are those that got sent in despite all spots being full.

Do you (want to) cosplay?

No, never been a huge fan of it.

Do you use VC in game?

Yes! I'm rather outgoing, and despite the toxicity towards female gamers the posirice encounters outdo the few bad ones:)

Do you cope with stressful situations well?

I wouldn't be working the job I do if I couldn't, so yes.

Do you rather play solo or with friends?

Friends, ofc! Siege solo is so boring, plus all the toxicity as a solo player... Aka being kickvoted and teamkilled for no reason. Nope, always in a squad.

Do you do anything special with others in the fandom?

I did a writing trade once (I'd love to do one again), I draw people's OC's and custom made operator icons for said OC's. I've also / am also rp'ing with other peeps and their OC's. (Not to say hit me up if you want any of those, but like... Hit me up)

Do you have a R6S OC? If so give a short bio!

My characters are way too thought out to summarise them so shortly, I feel like. But to give a lil info still:

OC no. 1: Vittoria "Ragno" de Angelo | British sniper | Defender

OC no. 2: Arsenio "Ossos" Caravelho | Portugese GOE | Attacker

I tag @qquell , @zedhead , @something-in-red , @rexcaliburr , @rainbowsixsiegeimagines and everyone who wants to do it, I tag you!:)

[unbindingkerberos]

🙉🙊💖💗🚆for Amarice and Henry

Henry "Babel" Adler | R6 & COD

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

R6 Henry is an incredibly lonely person. He'd realise this when Marius first spoke to him. He realised that that was the first "real" conversation he had. He'll try to outright deny this if someone brings it up.

For COD Henry, he doesn't like to show people he's vulnerable. Throughout his life, terrible tragedies occurred to him that made him feel so fragile and mentally unstable (unlike his R6 counterpart who is more composed), and he doesn't want people seeing cracks of it.

What both have in common however is that they really REALLY don't want others to learn of the unresolved trauma regarding Cassandra's sacrifice/ death. They don't want to deal with it considering they try to forget about the whole thing.

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

For both, its their ideals about how if you want to make the world a better place/ if you want to get something done: don't be afraid to get yours hands bloodied.

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

R6 Henry leans on the subtle side. He takes note of a lot of details regarding Marius's personality, quirks, habits and likes. He'd sometimes gift Marius simple things like a new wrench, recommend him to missions, talk about everything in their thoughts and giving Marius some massages if the German's tired.

As of now COD Henry doesn't have a love interest (though I'm torn in between König and Ghost, need help lol). However let's say theorethically he has one. And boy this man is the definition of a showy lover. If this man buys expensive dog toys for his Leeches you bet your ass he'll buy anything you set your eye on. He notices how much you keep mentioning how you want to go to Paris, he'll buy tickets first thing and has already rented out a yacht in Nice. He notices you eyeing that Gucci suit in the mall? Whips out his wallet. However if his lover gets overwhelmed or wants simple things, Henry will reluctantly accept but he'll struggle.

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

R6 Henry loves seeing Marius smile all the time. He doesn't know why but he is rendered speechless at the sight.

For COD Henry its the thrill in the moment. He gets really excited when he's on missions and he's in near death situations. It makes him ecstatic and on some occassions he purposefully makes a mistake and lets the enemy think they got him when in reality he's getting what he wants (and kills them in the end).

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

This is Henry we're talking about here. Of course he'll sacrifice people to save the others.

Amarice "Patriot" Locke | R6

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

Amarice doesn't particularly enjoy letting others see through her tough and stern exterior and see what she really is: a tired person. She claims that her profession requires her not to when in reality she doesn't like talking about her inner demons (I mean she sneaks away or deflects when Doc tries convincing her to try out therapy).

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

She absolutely despises how the youth are so reckless and idealistic. And seeing how some operators in RAINBOW are young, Amarice won't hesitate to tell them that they'll be throwing their futures away for nothing.

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

Back when she and Marcus were not divorced, Amarice loves initiating PDA. She'd hug-tackle, sling an arm around Marcus's neck or shower him with kisses.

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

Strangely its the little things. The smell of rain, the warmth of fresh sunlight, the falling leaves. She doesn't know why and how, but she finds it endearing.

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

Nathaniel once brought the problem up and boy-- it was livid. (Nathaniel: Mother no you can't just-- theorethically what if you can get to the panel?

Amarice: I'll call in a buddy of mine--

Nathaniel: But mom, its just you..

Amarice: Lets say he's theorethically with me.)

Eventually she settles on bombing the train and Nathaniel gives up.

[unis-trash-stash]

Rainbow Six Thingy!

I was tagged by @retrodisaster. Thank you!!!

Name: Uni

Nationality: American

PC or Console: Xbox

Time Played: I really don’t know lmaoooo

Highest Rank: I don’t play ranked

Defense or Attack: Both, but I liked playing Attack more

Mains: For attack, Sledge and Thatcher. For defense, Mozzie and Kaid

Favorite Female Voice: Mira no doubt

Favorite Male Voice: Smoke

Favorite CTU: I gotta say the SAS

Favorite Gun: The L85A2

Favorite Gamemood: Secure Area

Season Started In: Shifting Tides (I’m new)

Favorite Ship(s): Sledge/Maestro and Thatcher/Kaid

Least Favorite Ships: DOC/LION AND PULSE/HIBANA NO NO NO NO NO

Do you write about R6S? If so, who and what: I haven’t written Siege fanfiction just yet. But I have a few works I plan on working on eventually. One is, particularly exciting...

Do you (want to) do cosplay? If so, who: I never mentioned this, but I am actually working on a Mira cosplay right now!

Do you draw R6S? If so, what: I just draw the operators I like lmao

Do you use VC in game: Very rarely, but I have before

Do you cope with stressful situations well: Not at all lmao

Do you rather play solo or with friends: Friends. I’m always playing with @rozzy-the-riveter

Do you do anything special with others in the fandom: I just draw and write. I have made some friends here, though

Do you have a R6S OC: Is that even a question? That’s like 90% of the Siege content I make, since I have multiple

Tag some of your fellow R6S Pals: I’m tagging @rozzy-the-riveter, @spookylizpg, @sadcowboy6969, and @gamerphobiic

[chadillacboseman]

Mozzie anon here...I really appreciate it! When your requests are open, could I get Mozzie rescuing reader from the whitemasks?

I KNOW MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED BUT COME ON-

I FEEL LOVE FOR MOZZIE IN THIS HOUSE TONIGHT.

--

READER IS GENDER-NEUTRAL!

TW: mentions of torture and death, violence typical of R6. Otherwise SFW.

It had been three days- or, at least, you were fairly certain three had passed. So little light filtered into your cell from the outside, that you couldn't be absolutely sure.

You watched the metal door in anticipation.

Twice a day, like clockwork, they opened a small slot and shoved a meal through on a plastic tray along with a bottle of water. Too small of an opening to make a move of any kind, and they never let their hand come into your cell.

The White Masks were smart, you had to give them that much.

The sliver of light on the far wall was slowly fading from bright orange to a deep, charred hue, and you knew the sun was setting wherever you were.

You sighed and kicked a chunk of broken cement across the floor; there was no way out of this- the White Masks would either torture you or kill you, and no one from Rainbow had any idea where you were.

Hell, even you didn't know where you were.

Your mind wandered to Max, "Mozzie" as the other ops called him- you wondered how he was feeling. You knew how reckless he got when he was hotheaded, and he was surely feeling very distraught right about now.

A loud metal clang jerked you out of your musings as a plastic tray was shoved, unceremoniously, through the slot in the door.

Dinner time.

You sauntered over to the tray and wrinkled your nose at the sight- it appeared to be a crude stroganoff, likely leftover from days prior, accompanied by plain bread, the texture of which was akin to cardboard.

You picked at the plate halfheartedly, trying to pry your mind from the writhing sense of dread slowly building in your gut. Three days was a long fucking time to keep a prisoner. Your luck had to be just about out.

Your cell grew dark as the sky outside the small square window turned black and your eyes got heavy. You fell to your stiff cot and rested your back against the cold stone wall.

You closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you as you tried not to think about what the morning would bring.

--

You awoke to the sound of a drone buzzing along the hallway outside your cell, mechanical blades whirring quietly, the sound reverberating through the metal of your door.

Drones. You imagined this compound was so secure that they had little need for regular footpatrols. That didn't bode well for you.

You glanced up at the wall and noted the burned orange light that painted it- you guessed it had to be at least 6am.

You mused for a moment about where exactly you might be- you knew by the faintness of the sounds from the yard below that you had to be several stories up. The White Masks were notorious for claiming abandoned or decommissioned sites, and this was likely one of them.

Footsteps outside the door interrupted your thoughts, loud and methodical- the footsteps of an executioner.

You swallowed, hard, when they paused outside your door.

A series of loud thuds and clanks signaled the unlocking of the door before it swung open and thudded hard against the concrete wall in your cell.

You glanced up and a blank white mask stared back at you, beady, dark eyes like two black gems set against the ivory surface.

"On your feet, prisoner."

You hesitated, weighing your options.

You could run.

Before you had the chance to consider it, the guard's large hand clasped down on your shoulder and hauled you to your feet. When they had brought you here, there had been a hood over your eyes- now you were able to see that there were dozens of other cells, some occupied, some emtpy, running the length of the hall.

The guard pinned your arms behind your back and cuffed them before shoving you, unceremoniously, forward toward a large, metal door at the end of the hall.

You had seen plenty of doors like that before.

You knew what would be behind it- a car battery, knives, a chair with leather restraints.

Anything and everything a torturer could need.

You knew what the bodies looked like when you recovered them. Torn to shreds, beaten, bloody, barely recognizable as human beings.

You let out a shaking breath as the guard pushed you onward.

Jesus, I'm so fucking sorry, Max

You repeated the thought over and over in your head. You knew what this would do to him- how it would tear him apart to find your broken body dumped in some pit like garbage.

The familiar whirring of the patrol done broke the silence, approaching fast from behind.

Too fast-

The machine struck the guard in the head at maximum velocity, sending him stumbling forward with a grunt.

"What the hell-"

The drone buzzed, menacingly, like an angry hornet, diving at the guard over and over, metal blades slicing into his skin as he held up an arm to defend his face.

"Hey, ya fuckin' drongo, havin' a little trouble with your drone?"

Mozzie.

You spun on your heel as the Aussie rounded the corner, assault rifle brandished. There was a loud crash as the wall in front of you exploded in a cloud of dust and Gridlock barreled through the opening with a roar.

The facility lost power and red emergency lights began to dance erratically as the alarms screamed to life. The guard at your feet made a motion to stand and Gridlock struck him with the butt of her rifle.

"Come on, we haven't got all day!" Mozzie yanked a jackknife from his pocket and cut the flexcuffs that encircled your wrists.

"Max-" you felt tears well up in your eyes as you looked into his polarized glasses.

"Don't get soft on me yet- we gotta get outta this fuckin' place."

The next moments were a blur as Mozzie and Gridlock flanked you and the three of you traversed the compound.

"We've got maybe three minutes before this place is swarming with Masks!" Gridlock called, "Jager is on the roof with the helo."

Gridlock ran point, up the stairs, as Mozzie stayed behind you. The three of you hightailed it up one, then two, then three flights of stairs. The alarms continued to blare, and you could hear the faint sounds of footsteps on the flights below.

"One more level!" Gridlock called.

The sounds of the footsteps were growing closer, and you could make out the shouting of the White Mask soldiers, growing louder and louder with each passing step.

You heard a loud grunt as Gridlock kicked the roof access door open and bright sunlight burst in, practically blinding you.

"Get to the helo, NOW!" she shoved you through the door and toward the black helicopter.

You leapt into the open door and Jager shot you a thumbs up from the cockpit. Mozzie and Gridlock jumped in behind you as at least two dozen White Masks pushed through the door, guns blazing.

"Go, go NOW!" Mozzie was shouting at Jager as he sent a burst of fire from his rifle and struck one of the soldiers.

The helicopter lurched off the roof and barreled away as shots rang off of the metal, growing more and more distant with each passing second.

"It's good to have you back!" Jager called from the pilot's seat.

"It's good to be back."

--

Back at the compound, you were sent to the infirmary, despite your fervent protests. Doc demanded you stay at least overnight to replenish your fluids and have your wounds looked at.

The other beds were empty, and you contemplated making a break for it when Max walked through the door. It always surprised you when he was devoid of his usual helmet and sunglasses.

The Aussie strode over and took a seat beside your bed; you avoided his eyes as guilt began to burn in your chest.

"Max..." you swallowed, hard, and finally brought your eyes to his, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Max cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, "The hell are you sorry for? I should have had your back."

Tears pricked in your eyes and the Aussie reached over to grab your hand. He ran his rough thumb over the cuts and bruises gently, his expression pained.

"How bad did they hurt ya?" Max sounded as if he was about to break down, his voice gravelly and low, so uncharacteristic for him.

"Not bad," you lied, poorly, and tried to tamp the memories down.

"I'd have killed every last one of 'em," Max murmured as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, "Me 'n Gridlock, we'd have fuckin' glassed that place."

"I know," you choked out the words- it felt like you had glass in your throat, "Thank you for coming for me."

Max smiled and moved his hand to your cheek, his fingers gently passing over the bruise that had blossomed on your chin.

"Anytime, love."

[kiruuuuu]

Doc/Lion oneshot in which a secret comes out which Lion would much rather have kept from the rest of Rainbow. (Rating T, angst + happy ending, ~2.4k words) - written for @big-r6s-fan!! Thank you very much again for commissioning me 💗 I enjoyed myself writing this :)

.

Lion was 15 when lying became a necessity.

Before, it had been a fancy, a brief display of power: he could deceive people if he wanted, but it was no more than a trump card he was never forced to play. When he went out with his friends, his parents hardly showed enough interest or worry, making a lie redundant, and his peers didn’t really care either about his religious upbringing or other interests. He felt being the younger sibling keenly, and Sophie oftentimes reminded him of all the things she wasn’t allowed to do at his age, unaware of how much he actually took advantage of this freedom.

Many things happened at 15 which interfered with this dynamic, deeply disturbed his relationship not only with his family but also his friends. He stole his dad’s car for a joyride and ended up getting caught. The parent of an ex-friend he long ditched for being a teacher’s pet saw him drinking together with older kids. He snuck into the school’s chapel and pissed in the holy water. He started smoking, lost his virginity, and shoplifted. His parents didn’t find out about all of it, but they did find out about enough, gathered clues from half-hearted responses and all the details he omitted, saw it in his face. He had to get better at lying, if only to trick their system of regular texts and calls, checking homework, rigid curfew.

Not only that, he learnt to keep secrets to prevent ridicule. Just like most of his friends, he claimed to be an atheist since they were the loudest group and often harassed others for believing – in truth, he doubted yet hadn’t faltered. Church involvement repelled him as did the strict moral code, but he never fully gave up the idea of a higher power. He kept quiet about liking some of the catchy songs on the radio, about his crush on the prettiest girl in his class, about enjoying some of his classes, about his reading habits. He didn’t want to be uncool, so he went along with his peers, easily agreeing and keeping most of the things he truly held dear close to his heart instead of on his sleeve.

It resulted in fewer problems. His parents thought him converted, his friends thought him amiable and he started to enjoy telling lies.

One of his friends was already 18, owned a car and lived alone – in Lion’s eyes, he was the pinnacle of maturity, something to strive towards. It didn’t matter his vehicle was on the verge of falling apart and that his flat stunk of stale weed and had no wallpaper and that he worked in a supermarket; he could stay up whenever he wanted, had his own money, and could go wherever he pleased. Not only that, he also never took no for an answer. No matter how hare-brained the plan, he was on board, no matter how unachievable the dream, he gave support and encouragement. The little word which Lion had heard one too many times from his parents lately was missing from his vocabulary.

At some point, his friend told him to take his clothes off. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. This, too, Lion never disclosed to anyone.

Just like the fact that he liked it.

.

Years took their toll on him. One of the very few things he kept from his adolescence is his taste in music which he doesn’t readily share with others from his church. He doesn’t speak about his faith with his colleagues. The extent of his escapades has never reached his parents’ ears. Not once has he told any of his girlfriends about the men with whom he fooled around. At times, it eats at him, every little secret, every little lie another bite out of his conscience, and though he’s trying his best to follow the commandments, it’s a habit he simply can’t kick. It spares him so many intrusive, difficult questions that it’s just not worth giving up.

There’s one man in particular who seems keen on testing his limits, however. There’s no reaction from him when Lion attempts to change the topic, every excuse merely makes him dig deeper, every wall that’s thrown up causes him to redouble his efforts of scaling it – once he’s identified an issue, he refuses to let go until he’s received a satisfactory response and his bluntness frankly intimidates Lion. He has trouble dealing with it, walked off a couple of times instead of opening up but with time realised that judgement never followed. That his concessions were never met with disdain. That his bareness was reciprocated in kind.

It’s hard to accept that the one person who carefully dismantles the web of lies, half-truths and excuses he weaves as protection used to be his enemy.

But by now, he’s starving for affirmation and takes what he can gets without seeming desperate, and when Doc refuses to back down even when confronted with some of Lion’s unsavoury past, he eventually gives in. Hands himself over. Allows Doc to rummage through the myriad of memories he usually keeps under wraps, and watches helplessly as the other man treats it more like a historical museum than contemporary art – he reassures Lion that while all of it contributed to his personality, he’s greater than the sum of its parts. He sees something in Lion no one else does, and so he fiercely, jealously guards the emotions shared between them from the rest of the world. This is his. He will not risk ridicule. He will not let it wither in sunlight where it flourishes in darkness.

Which is why he’s overcome with dizzying nausea when Dokkaebi walks in on them.

They were cautious, both of them averse to endangering this fragile understanding between them, and though they began living in each other’s skin outside of work, they avoided each other in Hereford. Not obvious enough to draw suspicion but rigorous enough to resist temptation. This day, it just so happened that Lion had lab results to drop off at the end of his shift, and Doc was still around, and so they exchanged a few words. Maybe stood a little too close. Doc said something soothing, Lion reacted with a rare smile, and warm fingers found his own, lips neared his.

A quick peck. No more. But Dokkaebi bursts in just then and clearly realises what’s going on and though Lion scrambles to revert back to the persona which can lie like it breathes, he’s gotten used to not needing it in Doc’s presence and is therefore too slow.

Awkwardness settles in his bones, guides Dokkaebi’s stilted words and stiff movements, laces Doc’s curt response, causes Lion’s face to burn and him to take an unnecessary step backwards. It squeezes his heart until it desperately pumps against the iron grip, blackening the outside of his vision, and with a formal excuse, he leaves. He nearly misses the doorknob on the way out due to shaking fingers.

She knows.

And if she knows, so will everyone else the next day. His and Doc’s feud spread like wildfire the moment he joined Rainbow and there’s no doubt this tasty bite of news will do the same. They will all know.

His phone starts buzzing before he’s even home. Composure is a virtue and he thanks the Lord for gracing him with it or else he might’ve swerved his car into a ditch. Teeth chattering, he stops by the side of the road and turns the device off – he doesn’t need this unconditional compassion right now, even if he’s unsure what else he needs. All he knows is that he’d break down if the calm voice on the other end asked him whether he’s alright.

Intrusive thoughts haunt him almost like a badly edited narration over a bleak independent film. You don’t deserve him, and he’s fairly sure he’s hungry, so he puts a slice of bread into the toaster. Doesn’t it contradict your faith? He hasn’t even taken off his shoes, so he unlaces them by the couch, leaves them lying in the way. Believe me, you two aren’t gonna last. Coffee sounds good right about now, even if all he has is instant. Fucking coward, hasn’t even come out and probably blackmails Doc. Kettle, water, cup, spoon, powder. The metal in his hands feels too smooth. Wasn’t his kitchen a little bigger? He could’ve sworn it wasn’t dark out when he arrived. He’s still an arrogant twat. Great, his toast is cold now.

The voices of the people he’s forced to interact with every day are merciless.

It’s like he’s run a marathon and, despite being wholly drained, the residual adrenaline fires up his mind in uncomfortable bursts. Sitting down for longer than ten minutes is impossible and he finds himself going through his qualifications at one point. He’s good at his job. He’s sure he can find another one elsewhere.

Now and then, faces flash before him. The priest he told to go fuck himself when he tried to talk to young Lion about responsibilities. His parents after being informed about his fatherhood. Claire when she realised he was serious about the abortion. His own son upon seeing him the first time. And, lastly, Doc. The day his colleagues’ blood added to the crusty mess already on Lion’s hands.

He won’t be able to bear more. He’ll break if the rest of Rainbow adds to this embarrassingly long list of shocked, appalled, disgusted expressions, especially since it’d be over something so dear to him. So crucial to his survival. He can’t stand them shunning him for having found his heart’s desire.

Already resigned to a night of no sleep, he jolts upright at the sound of his doorbell. Sits there, motionless, paralysed in indecision. He should let him in. He doesn’t want to.

It still rings now and then five minutes later, every noise running marrow-deep. He trusts Doc fully, but he doesn’t trust himself.

For once, his mind comes up with a reasonable objection: isn’t he a little old to be self-sabotaging like this?

Doc doesn’t mention the wait once he’s crossed the threshold. He won’t get it, not with how supportive his family has been, not with how popular he is, not with how little he encountered rejection in his life. And yet simply seeing him helps.

“I don’t want to lose you”, Lion breathes into his hair and the reassurances convince him that his lover genuinely doesn’t understand – he whispers the words which usually soothe Lion, promises him to stay by his side and remains unaware of the real problem. It matters not that he’s loyal when no one will talk to them. It’s irrelevant how supportive he is when open hostility will make coordinated teamwork unachievable. The tension will carry over until it either permeates their entire relationship, leaves them irritated and frustrated with each other, or until Lion is reassigned. Or potentially leaves of his own accord.

Both would be the end of them.

In exposing their feelings, they have killed them. And though Doc’s fingers will eventually grow tired of brushing away wet streaks, there will always be more tears.

.

Needle pricks in his back. He feels them wherever he goes, head held high and seemingly impervious – but the gazes riddle him, erode his self-control and he’s sure that eventually, there’ll be more holes than substance. Wandering through the base is nightmarish, an omnipresent sense of dread unshakeable. None of the people around him dare to speak anywhere but in their minds, and so he’s powerless to defend himself. They all know.

Every smile is malicious, every bout of laughter directed at him. Today, the universe has assembled to judge over the mockery that is his life and finds it lacking.

Doc’s words are etched into the back of his brain, not as encouragement but as a reminder of how naive his lover is. Doc desperately holds onto this fundamental trust towards humanity, ignorant of his privilege, ignorant of how revered he is, how the seas part for him, how no one dares to speak ill of him. He blindly assumes his experiences are universal. It’s easy for him to confuse his own brightness reflected back at him with another source of light.

Lion isn’t so lucky.

Whenever anyone approaches him, he expects the worst, flinches pre-emptively and stumbles his way through conversations which should’ve gone a lot smoother. They shoot him more and more odd looks the further the day progresses, and it’s not just the albatross around his neck they see. A glance in the mirror confirms he looks like death.

Montagne is a good friend and Lion values his opinion, yet conversing with him is like nails dragging over a chalkboard. He inquires about Lion’s well-being and lies like this one hardly count anymore. The brief talk has him sit down or else he might’ve started swaying, and the deafening roar of his thoughts almost makes him miss Montagne’s parting statement: “I’m happy for you and Gustave. I wish you two all the best.”

He -

He can’t mean it, can he?

A day later, in passing, Buck says with a smile: “You’ve snagged a good one. Don’t let him get away, eh?”

And Ash, at the end of the week: “I’m very glad it’s working out with you and Doc.”

Lion has never received this many friendly words. Most of the team captains send him on errands which carry him past Doc’s office. Hibana assigns him and Doc together for an exercise without a second thought. Twitch begins buying one coffee more each morning.

The burden lifts. The queasy feeling dissipates. His future brightens. It’s an incredible experience, and the more he adapts, the warmer the others receive him. It’s a mutual thing, glowing and strengthening his confidence, and eventually he even admits Doc was right from the beginning.

“They don’t treat me any worse”, he adds when sharing his observations with a wholly relieved Doc, loose and content and not at all shy with his displays of affection.

“Of course not”, comes the gentle reply. “Everyone deserves happiness, Olivier. It’s time you start believing it.”

Lion has to concede that here, by Doc’s side, looking forward to a good night’s sleep and a challenging job with supportive co-workers, it’s a lot easier to trust in these words.

[simonxriley]

Hey hope you're well! :) 3, 6, 11, 15 for the Fandom ask :D

Doing fair tbh, just wish life would stop throwing curve balls at me for one second. Hope you’re doing well!! :) 

3: What is the best fandom you’ve ever been involved in?

I’m gonna say R6S. There’s so many talented writers and artists in this fandom and it’s fun to read other people’s headcanons on the operators, even if I don’t vibe with it. But of course, some people in the fandom do annoy the crap out of me and it kinda sucks when all your mutuals follow them 😅🤷‍♀️

6: List your OTP from each fandom you’ve been involved in.

I’m gonna do the same thing that i did with the other ask and just do R6S and CoD. It’s easier. 

R6S:

Tachanka x Skylar 

Kapkan x Glaz + Poly Spetsnaz (including Skylar)

Bandit x Jager

Ash x Mira

Ash x Thermite

Fuze x Thermite

Doc x Lion

Ela x Valkyrie 

Tachanka x Kapkan

CoD: 

Ghost x Liz

Price x Liz

Soap x Price

Ghost x Roach 

Keegan x Logan

Merrick x Liz - I may not fully ship them anymore, but they’re still close to my heart. 

11: Who is your current OTP?

Tachanka x Skylar, but you probably already knew that lol. I just love them, I love their relationship and how they jokingly bicker between one another. But I just love their love. They care about each other so much and they would do anything to protect each other. 

Honorable mentions: Ghost x Liz, Kapkan x Glaz, Fuze x Skylar and Poly Spetsnaz. 

15: Is there an obscure ship which you love?

The only ship coming to mind is Mozzie x Blitz. I just think they would be cute together and joking around with each other. 

[lacklusterswirl]

R6S Fanfic Masterpost By op/ship

I will add more as I write more :)

AO3 Only:

Happy Valentine’s Day: (G, ~1.4k words)  IQ doesn't care too much about Valentine's day, but through a series of unfortunate (or just fortunate) events, she gets her best one yet.

Putting Down your Armour: (M, ~18.6k words)  Rook has always seen himself as a straightforward, stable guy. Emphasis on stable. Then he meets someone who is always on the run. An xReader fic, but instead of using “y/n” I used River? It makes more sense in the story i think.

Unsteady: (G, ~2.1k words) Based off of the song Unsteady by X Ambassadors. A quick oneshot based on what I think happened between Bandit and his brother. It goes between present time and flashbacks of their time together.

Year 0 Operations: (M, ~23.3 words)  Rainbow's first year operating. This is how I imagine everyone getting selected, fighting and stuff. Plus, it's practice for me for writing action scenes, though there will be some non-action stuff between.

Yokai Can’t Help Here: (E, ~17.8k words) Echo has always been more focused on creating, maintaining, and improving his robots. It's the reason why he started his career, and what he's now known for. A single track mind, if you will. Now he has another option. He just doesn't know how to handle it.

Kapkan/Glaz:

How the Might Fall: (M, ~760 words) Is Kapkan falling for someone? He doesn’t think so... but Glaz does.

Jäger/Bandit:

Leave a Light on: (M, ~1.5k words) Pre-Rainbow, Bandit has just met Jäger again. Some old feelings resurface, but who knows how Bandit has changed?  (Warnings: Implied Suicide, Mentions drug use/addiction, mutual pinning, self deprecation/hatred)

Buck:

Buck’s Torture: (M, ~1.8k words) A mission went wrong, and now Buck’s left behind for the White Masks to treat as they wish... Warnings: This is literally just a torture scene.

Clash:

Clash’s Anger: (T, ~240 words) Clash is an angry Brit, and there’s not much else to that anger... right? Warnings: mentions death, hostage situation.

Doc:

Not Every End... is Happy: (T, ~914 words) Doc was just trying to help, but Lion doesn’t see it like that. So they do what they do best: Argue. Warnings: Swearing, death, arguing, mention of nightmares, maybe PTSD (?), no happy ending, and no fluff, death of a child.

Broken Heart’s Club: (G, ~270 words) Doc and Bandit bond over some loneliness. Warnings: Loneliness?

Finka:

Who Knew: (T, ~1.6k words) Tachanka is dead and Finka needs to get over it with the rest of the Spetsnaz. Warnings:  Major character death, Grief, angst, anger, self-sacrifice, suicide.

Jackal:

Jackal’s Numbness: (M, ~560 words) Jackal is feeling something that he can’t identify. Warnings: Unclear attempted suicide, possible depression, feeling lost.

Jäger:

Jäger’s Thoughts: (M, ~970 words) Jaeger has come back after Outbreak, and is struggling to readjust. Warnings: Self-harm, mentions of nightmares, attempted suicide, self-hate, projecting harmful thoughts, hurt with a slightly comforting end, though implies future harm.

Lion:

We all hurt: (T, ~700 words) Lion gets into a fight with Thatcher, and has time to reflect. Because he hurts just as much as everyone else, even if they don’t see it.  Warnings: sad feelings, mentioned car crash.

Maverick:

Hatches: (G, ~240 words) Maverick has just learned how to break hatches! Now if only they weren’t so finicky :P. Warnings: None. It’s just humour. Unless you don’t like the HC that the multiplayer mode in R6S is just a simulation where they train against each other.

Maverick’s BDay: (G, ~240 words) Maverick is feeling lost, and goes outside to calm down and ask some questions. Warnings: Sad, confused feelings, no real plot. Just self wondering stuff.

Montagne:

Montagne’s Protection: (M, ~2.9k Words) Montagne has woken up in a cell, and needs to survive. But then something happens and his priorities change. Warnings: Character Death, Hostage, Waterboarding, gun violence, knife violence, self-sacrifice. 

Rook:

Rook in Paris: (T, ~900 words) Rook went back to Paris to meet up with Mute for vacation, but his own memories are bothering him. Warnings: Mentions of Death and injuries, hurt with only a little comfort at the end.

Om nom: (G, ~770 words) Rook is self-conscious, and Twitch is there to help comfort him. 

Thatcher:

Soft Sides: (G, ~1.1k words) Thatcher is just feeling lost, and he needs someone to talk to.

The End: (T, ~300 words) Thatcher has had a long life in service, and the end can come at any time. Warnings: implied death, major character death (maybe), missions, gunfights, injuries

Thatcher and ??:  (T, ~1.8k words) Kind of like a continuation/prelude to The End, but in this one, he re-evaluates his life. Warnings: (Mentions/implied for all at least) death (of friends/family), dementia, injury, fighting, gun fights, canon typical violence, and mass violence (bartlett u)

Vigil:

Unwanted Help: (G, ~900 words) Vigil is worried about Dokk, but doesn’t know what to do to help. 

Ying:

Ying’s PTSD: (T, ~670 words) Ying is having trouble with flashbacks of a car crash. Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, car crash, attempted (assisted?) suicide, no happy end.

[glazkov-smile]

15 for £15: Short Rainbow Six Writing Commissions

A particularly rough week has left me pretty broke for the rest of the month and in need of a way to pay for food & travel expenses, so I’m temporarily re-opening my fic commissions! To make sure I can fit this around my full-time job + to try and get money quickly, I’m offering set slots of 1500 words for £15 specifically for Rainbow Six. Indulge in your dreamiest rarepair, surprise a friend with a gift, or simply support a writer in need. :)

Examples:

my ao3

my fics on here

selected past commissions

What I will write:

SFW and NSFW, any rating

most kink, violence, gore, drug use, the weird and the wonderful

any M/M or F/F pairing including rarepairs, multi, solo, etc

any specific headcanons or details you really want mentioned

What I won’t write:

het

scat, emetophilia, pedophilia

x/reader, OCs, etc

If you’re not interested, or if like me you’ve simply not got the funds right now, please consider supporting me by reblogging my commission post or telling your friends about me (alternatively, if you’re an angel from heaven am also accepting regular donations). For more details please click the read more.

Details, Terms & Conditions:

You are paying for a minimum word count. You will not be charged extra if that count is exceeded, though tips are always appreciated. Please do not pay for a 1500 word commission and ask for a fic that will obviously take several thousand more words than that to fulfil.

I reserve the right to decline any commission I see fit without explanation prior to payment.

All payments up front through paypal, no exceptions. Once we have agreed on the details, I will provide you my paypal address. Once the payment has been confirmed, I start writing. For transparency I will provide you a link to the google doc in which I’ll be writing your commission, and you are free to check up as I’m going, or wait until I’m finished. If there are any edits or changes required, I’ll do that then post the finished piece on AO3 for posterity (I can gift it to your own AO3 account, simply mention you in the notes, or keep it anonymous). 

I am busy and very stressed irl at the moment, as well as a naturally slow writer. I will do my best to finish these commissions in a timely fashion but that may not always be possible depending on the complexity of the request and my recovery; however, if you need it finished by a certain deadline let me know.

To simplify things I will do three commissions at a time at the most; if the slots are full, you can be put on a waiting list where you tell me what you’d like and reserve the next open slot (you don’t pay until that slot is open and I can formally accept your commission).

Slots:

hawk, doclion

grunkle, cavclash

kiru, montybandit

Waiting List:

haeyi

mirae

big-r6s-fan

If you are interested, contact me here on tumblr - the IM function is more reliable than asks, so I’d advise using that. We can discuss your request and go from there. All inquiries are welcome, you are not obliged to commit to anything.

[rainbowsixxreader]

hc; how would montagne react to his s/o calling him daddy?

I snickered when I read this.

-He’s very surprised, he’s used to being called Dad by the team, but daddy was different. He’ll just stare at you for a few moments in utter silence. If he notices you get embarrassed he’ll reassure you its okay.

-Surprisingly not as into it as you’d think, but he’s fine with being called daddy or dad as a joke, so he’ll let you do it. His cheeks always tint pink when you call him daddy though, always without fail.

-The first time you call him daddy in front of the team, he’ll throw his head into his hands and mutter lots of things in french. “Oh non pourquoi moi? Darling s'il vous plait.” Will definitely be said, Rook and Doc chuckling while hearing the big man mutter. Twitch will give you a wink and pat the man on the back. 

-It always takes him off guard to hear it, but he’ll eventually get used to it, unless you use it in bed then he’ll be back to square one,  but he’ll try everything once, so who knows maybe he’ll grow to like it.