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unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year

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𝑂𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝐹𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑; Part 1

Summary: Having to work with Mexican Special Forces to take down a terrorist group so that they wouldn't bomb a place and make them chicken nuggets, you had to return to where once you lost the two dearest friends you had.... People that could have been more, if your life worked out differently.

A/N: Reader's codename "Night" is entirely made up by me.... And excuse my bad attempt at accents.

A/N: Though I'm mew to this... REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR COD: MW2

¹: Do I sound like I'm a newcomer to you, Colonel?

²: All those informations couldn't have been uploaded to my brain in my mother's womb, no?

Pairings: Alejandro Vargas x Fem!Reader x Rodolfo Parra( romantic), Task Force 141( platonic) , hints on GhostSoap

"Ouch, Soap! Come on, be a bit gentle man!"

"If ya stopped fo' a second, I wouldn' have to be harsh." You groaned under Soap's teasing eyes and Ghost's irritated yet still soft staring while the plane you three had to take was bringing you to Mexico, somewhere you never thought you would have missed at all. The mission you three took before this was kind of a disaster. The raid in Al-Mazrah and trying to get a hold of Hassan was a hardwork, between the many snipers protecting the building even though there was no one and learning that Hassan already fled out, made all three of you, to put it simply, mad.

Like mad,mad.

Sure, Soap tried to mask it with his god-awful jokes while Ghost just stared at the ground with his usual and deadly, unreadable Ghost-stare, as you called it... You were only able to sit straight thanks to Soap for his help with bandaging your wound on your side and give him a bright smile- one that the team would make fun of since the brightness of it was the polar opposite of your nickname.

All bright and shining smile, on the Night's face...

Hissing through the slight pain that went through your spine in little electroshocks, you got up and sat down next to Simon, slightly leaning back with your legs kicking the air aimlessly. You didn't have to talk, and neither of you liked it when one spoke only to crush a comforting silence, you just laid your hand on his thigh with a reassuring smile. You knew the tendency he had, blaming himself for one single failure when he won against many people.

But the battles he was apparently fighting inside was far harsher and tougher to him.

Ghost really lived up to his name, he was like a ghost. No face, no backstory... And if you weren't the one of the few that was lucky to gain his trust, you wouldn't know his real name or that slight show of half of his face whenever he would smoke around you.

Why do you never let us call you Simon, you once asked him while you were eating your sandwich while he was smoking next to you outside. A peaceful night it had been, apart from Price nagging you to eat healthy when the lungs of that man was like a coal. The man you think I am, Simon, is long dead. Here, I'm only Ghost, he gruffly replied to your question after finishing and pulled his hood up while his feet kicked the pebbles, not looking up at your innocent-eating visage that stopped mid-action and a sad pout settled in. You didn't say much after that, sensing that it was something very sensitive for him...

And though, he still didn't fully trust you with his story... It was okay as long as he was comfortable around you.

"Get your shit together, bestie! We're landing soon enough!"

"I'm not your bestie, Night- what the hell does that even-"

"Oh, shit! Look at this, Soap! We're in Mexico already!" Soap grinned at your enthusiasm while Ghost groaned, a smile staying hidden beneath his balaclava. The Scottish man let out an amused how you seemed happy and excited even after a tough mission and a rough wound, looking down at the green scenery like a kid having her first vacation, but looked out the window anyways, kinda getting where it was coming from.

But the next words that left your mouth made even Ghost look up at you curiously.

"Damn, It's been a long time since I've been back here! Feels like nostalgy..."

"Wait, you... you're from here?"

"Uhh, kinda? After my parents died, my uncle who used to live close to here, Las Almas, took me in and raised me until I was 14 or something..." your voice got relatively silent in the end and a sad frown rested on your face, a sight that neither of the men had ever seen.

It was obvious that the rest of that story, your story, was gonna get darker from here. It was always like that for everyone in the military, no one really had a good, white-fenced family life...

One way or another, all of the troubled ones got sweeped in the military work.

"What happened then? How did you end up in the USA?" Soap asked the only question that was ringing in both of their heads, thinking-and hoping- that what they thought wasn't the case.

And knowing this, and seeing it on their hopefull gazes, you turned to look out the window one last time before the plane landed, and a harder look settled in. "He died in front of my eyes, Laswell was there for an operation and tried to stop the one who killed him... Apparently she failed, and as a repentance I believe, she took me in."

"So you haven't been here ever since than?" Soap asked curiously when you sat down to buckle up while the plane started to lower down. Your brows knitted, mind racing to find a memory if you had been there but when nothing came, you shook your head as no. "Nope, that's the first time... Oh, the amount of irritating Spanish jokes I'm going to make to irritate those guys, hehehe..."

Ghost only sighed at your evil cackle, rolling his eyes when Soap's eye beamed at the idea. And you smiled even wider when his eyes met yours with the same amount of mischief but soon dropped when he eyed you sadly. "I woulda wanted to join, but I don' know Spanish, lass..."

You grunted angrily, shuffling on your seat that was more like a cat kneading a soft blanket which made him chuckle and ruffle your hair. "Don't worry, Soap! Spanish isn't that hard that I'm sure you will learn a few words when we leave here-AND STOP MESSING MY HAIR! JUST BECAUSE I'M IN MILITARY DOESN'T MEAN I DON'T CARE MY LUXUR....."

Ghost would never admit, rather die, but he only tolerated yours because you were the only one who was brave enough to bitch out the General while being completely unfazed and playing a game on your phone.

Alejandro, to say it simply, didn't expect to see a woman in the team that was coming to Mexico. Laswell didn't say anything and just said cheekily I'm sending you someone just like you, Colonel...

But seeing an angry woman, who was dwarfed in the middle of two huge men and represented more of a chihuahua, was definetly a good change.

And up until the plane landed, and even when the doors opened, you didn't stop complaining and yelling at Soap-who was busy not to cackle at every angry face gesture you did- while Ghost was walking ahead, fed up by you two's stupidity.

And it was amusing to watch you hit bulky man who was able to throw you over his shoulder.

"Sergeant Mactavish, Colonel Night!" A booming voice made you both stop playing with each other and look ahead to see the serious-looking man greeting you with a handshake, both of you nodding in gratitude at his respect to you not using your real name. It was no use, after all, with giving your name away so carelessly.

One of the rate things you and Ghost agreed on.

Alejandro shook Ghost's hand as well, the colossal Titan-like man nudging you to move with the tip of his gun harshly after Soap being a little bitch, as he called it.

While the said-man was busy with fucking up with Ghost.

"Actually, I believe he prefers to be-" you bit down your lip hard at what Soap was about to say, a snort still leaving you when Ghost yelled at him to stop since he knew you both were about to ridicule him for letting you two tease him.

What was the bad that would come with telling every single person you met that the killer-machine of a colossal Ghost liked to be called babygirl, after one of your babygirlfying sessions?

The three men already started to speak to themselves about Hassan and Shepherd, and though you knew it was selfish... You just wished you came here for a vacation and not a mission, the sound of the General's name being enough to make you even more mad then before.

And remembering the last convo you had with your adoptive mother, Laswell, only fueled that anger.

"Mom, I'm telling you that there is something wrong with the way the General acts!"

"What could possibly be wrong with him, Y/N! He is the General-"

"That's the point! He only asks about where the missiles are, and I bet my 1000 dollars that it's because he wants to have a power in his hands and not to save humans!"

That man is bad news, and if I can get more info maybe before he kills me, I can-

You knew that Laswell was heavily loyal to him, and she never questioned him or his morals but though she never saw it, you saw how an evil smile would come to him at the mere mention of killing or sacrificing men, soldiers who had families, hopes, dreams...

And you knew, that he knew what you had been doing from his back by collecting evidence and that he was already planning to kill you.

"Hey, lass... You good?" Soap called to you when he realized that you no longer walked with them and you shook your head immediately, jogging up to them before getting in the car after Soap.

"Yeah, no worries. I'm sorry for dozing, just thinking of how I'll get my hands on someone after we're done and have a fun night out- Oh, hey!" You grunted noncholantly, while Alejandro raised a brow at you curiously and Ghost pushed you into the car forcefully but you still had a beaming smile to the man sitting in the driver seat, offering a hand while the said-man was watching you three curiously, accepting the kindness nonetheless.

"Hey, not a good first impression on our teammates, Ghost!"

"Do I look like I give a damn? Get in!"

"Okay, Jesus fine. Stop being an ass..." you grunted in pain while plopping down on the seat, being squished by the two bulky men who opened their legs a bit wider than usual to fit in and though you normally wouldn't give a damn...

Right now you couldn't breathe.

And it definetly wasn't because of the most gorgeous two men you ever saw-

"Look, guys, as much as I love you, move your legs away from my tiny self 'kay? I know I don't have balls between my legs but be a gentleman and shoo your legs away!"

Rodolfo widened his eyes at what you said, watching the two men grunt and apologize while doing so and looked over to his boyfriend to see if he was the only one being shocked when he caught Alejandro's sigh, him muttering she's like that before cleaning his throat to introduce him.

"This is my second in command Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra." Alejandro introduced his boyfriend with a proud smile, the man at the recieving end smiling bashfully at him before giving a nod over to your trio, which you also did the same and squeezed your eyes questioningly at him.

After hearing his name, you turned your questioning eyes to the man, suddenly feeling like you knew them. The shape of his nose, the way he smiled and touched his face when he first met you...

"Is something wrong, Colonel?" Rodolfo questioned hesitantly, the doubting face you did setting his nerves up to the roof while Alejandro looked back and stared at you back, protective eyes raking through your face until you gave a huge smile and shook your head, hands waving dismissively.

He couldn't be your best friend from years ago... that would be shit kinda insane, right?

"No, no... You just remind me of someone, I don't know who though. Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable." You leaned back on the seat with an unreadable gaze, lips thight and a kind of approving face yet smiled at him.

"That's not a problem, thank you." he nodded at you kindly, and turned back to the road ahead.

While both him and Alejandro thought why their hearts beated erratically at the sight of you smiling.

"They're not angry, Soap..."

"But they are yelling! They must be angry-" you sighed at his persistence as if he was the one who once lived here, and if the look on Alejandro's face said anything, it would be the same as yours.

"Look, It's a Mexican thing! Their blood runs hotter and wilder than the rest of the human population which makes their vocal cords stronger. Trust me, no one is actually angry here." You explained bored, your head on Soap's shoulder while you played with his hands idly, him turning his palm up for you to have better access. Alejandro slightly turned to look back at you, somehow with jealous and irritated eyes- thinking that it was because you two were being intimate while on mission, when you two weren't together at all, unknown to them-while Rodolfo's eyes found your face in the rear mirror with a confused look.

At both your knowledge, and the closeness you had with the Scottish man.

"For a newcomer, you know our people a lot-" Soap's eyes shone when you lifted your head with a teasing smile and side eyed him, the moment you had been waiting for was finally here and it was your time to shine...

Damn, I wish my phone was on my hand...

" ¿Le parezco un recién llegado, coronel?"¹ you smirked cheekily at their astonished face, almost laughing out loud when Rodolfo lost the control of the vehicle which resulted with Ghost yelling loudly while the poor man apologized before his eyes found yours. "You speak Spanish?!"

" Toda esta información no pudo cargarse en mi cerebro en el vientre de mi madre, ¿no?" ² Rodolfo chuckled, trully seeing what Laswell meant when she said that one of the members would be much like Alejandro, a genuine smile creeping on his lips while Alejandro let out a loud laugh and smile.

Smiles that died down quickly when they realized that their eyes lingered on you longer and longer.

He and Rodolfo, ever since he lost the third piece of themselves, never smiled that much. Life was never easy to them ever since, between protecting Las Almas and its people, taking care of each other and healing their wounds that would never trully heal, they never had the chance to be themselves and have fun.

Not when they lost the girl they both fell hard for, their third piece Y/N Y/L/N...

The only person they saw them fighting shoulder to shoulder with...

Even swore on their blood...

Only for it to be broken with you, someone they tought that would never abondon them, disappearing without a trace.

Both Alejandro and Rodolfo's hand touched their chest, where they had their rings was hidden beneath, to have some comfort and feel you even if you weren't here anymore. Alejandro and Rodolfo, when they bought the promise rings, also brought one for the person who took their hearts with herself and probably died, thinking that you would have loved the idea. And occasionally, they would exchange it between each other when the other needed to feel it.

To feel you.

This time it was around Rodolfo's neck and he momentarily squeezed it, battling the tears to go away. This, the want to cry and the feeling of something clawing inside his chest, never happened in the almost 20 years that he had been dealing with his loss...

And he didn't like the reminder of what should have been.

Meanwhile, you and Soap was busy with gossiping between each other while giggling at the chaos that happened a few minutes ago so intensely that you didn't realize the looks Ghost was giving you. "You wanna bet if they're engaged?"

"Nah, lass, I'm one hundred per cent sure that they're married."

"Can you two not shut up and talk about the mission once?" Ghost butted in on your gossip harshly when you both looked at him offended.

"No?" You both whisper yelled at Ghost and he grunted, turning to look out the window while you patted Soap's arm with a bright idea. "How about I ask?"

"Are ya crazy? We just met these people, where do ya get the courage-"

"Live, laugh, don't give a fuck, Soap! That easy, and I'm betting my 100 bucks." You all-knowingly said, already seeing the wide smile and beam on Soap's face.

"100? Damn I'm in!" You gave a childish smile and scooted closer to the two men sitting in front, at this point you could have just squeezed yourself in between the empty space in the middle because of the intense pull you had. Alejandro stressed you a bit though, even when you are the mostly unfazed one. So, you turned to Rodolfo while the man gave you a curious yet amused side look.

"Do you have a question?" You smiled at his soft voice, already feeling a little bit more eased, and looked at him with the softest eyes Soap and Ghost had ever seen on you.

"Yes, actually... I was wondering, when you said you both grew here... How long has it been?"

"Close to 35, I guess..." he gave a thoughtful hum, voice lost in nostalgia when his hand slithered up his vest again which caught your attention but soon was broken when he met your eyes from the rear mirror. "Why do you ask?"

"Ah, I just grew up somewhere close to here. I was curious whether we met or not since here is a small place. Especially after your face reminding me of... someone from my past."

You frowned sadly, a blank stare setting on your features. One that Rodolfo decided that didn't suit your bubbly self. "I'm sorry, for causing pain to you. But if I met you, we would have remembered... Right Alejandro?"

The man only gave a grunt, and watched you talk sweetly with his boyfriend with a heavy heart. He wasn't jealous, and that was what shocked him. Normally, as someone who had trust issues who was in a relationship, he expected to be jealous of you and how close you were getting with both him and Rudy. When many women and men tried their chances with either of them, or both of them, they both declined them harshly. They would never taint the memory of you, your touch on their faces and bodies...

Only Alejandro was the one to break that by getting with Valeria, a name they despised after years. A name that Alejandro would never forgive himself for giving himself over when he wanted it to be with Y/N and Rudy.

And it was because of his stupidity that he almost lost the last person he had.

And though he felt like he tainted your memory again, with how he was being with the woman in the car... He felt like curling up and crying like he did many times when he remembered.

But he also couldn't deny the way you fitted... so well with them.

You smiled to him, unaware of his inner turmoil, mindful of putting some distance between yourself and Rudy- taking the frown on Alejandro's face as jealousy, before dropping the bomb. "Then, I'm just gonna ask it away: Are you two engaged?"

Both of their faces fell in shock, both of them yelling over the other to prove that they weren't indeed together. They had been so careful until now, with never showing anyone their biggest weakness and especially the trio that just came-

Really, how did you know this before anyone?

"Where did you get the idea from, colonel?"

"Ah there we go with her deductions..." sighed Ghost irritatedly while Soap was busy crying internally at the amount he lost to you.

Even when Price clearly warned him to never challenge you.

You smiled giddily and cracked your knuckles and neck with excpectation before diving in to your Sherlock Holmes obsession, which was learning the ways of the Art of Deduction. "There is a whiter place on both of your left hands, meaning that you used to wear a ring and by the size of it, I'm assuming it to be either wedding rings or engagement rings. But you two are still looking at each other as if you want to eat the other so it's definetly not wedding and... The bedroom eyes here is intense, man."

"We-We don't do that, Colonel-" Rudy stuttered in embarrassment, the sight would have made you coo teasingly but since they were in a relationship- which was a disappointment on your end, kinda- you smiled and shook your head.

"Yes, you do. That's okay, really. I deal with the two men behind me doing it x10 worse..." your voice died down before Ghost would have hit your back when the car stopped near two corpses, bloody and covered with some insults and threats on the cover. Alejandro turned to look, since he didn't see what it was with his whole body turned to you to look at your face more closely and a sad look found his eyes at the young people laying in those covers. The sight disturbed you, and even if you couldn't admit it...

The frown of Alejandro hurted you more.

"You might want to sit back, Night. This sight-"

"I've seen worse, Colonel, trust me... But what's written on them? What are those?" Your voice hardened, the cold tone Soap and Ghost had seen you use when torturing someone came, and they watched just as sadly.

Not as obviously as you, since they mostly knew how to conceal their emotions.

And since they didn't have a personal grudge like you.

"Narcomantas..."

"Cartel clothes..." translated Rodolfo for the two behind you, his eyes trained on you and how you scrunched your nose at the scene before you sadly, the empathy you had for them even after being gone from here for such a long time, his heart softened at the sight and his hand twitched to touch your forehead to erase that frown when the thoughts shook him to his core and he cleared his throat, letting Alejandro continue with a hard, determined look while turning to look at the road.

"Messages from El Sin Nombre. Warnings marking territory. Our streets are laced with death... El Sin Nombre, The Nameless, is the leader of the Las Almas Cartel. No one can find him, but he is everywhere... But Los Vaqueros like challenges." He explained throughly what had been plaguing this town while you plopped down next to Ghost, completely loosing your mood at what had been going on in the place you grew up.

How much these people suffered.

"With your mask, you will fit in well here Ghost..." you knew Rodolfo meant it in a good way, no vicious comments, especially after that scene you left behind, but you also knew how this mask was a sensitive topic for Ghost. So, both you and Soap snapped your heads up and made gestures for him to stop since neither of you wanted Simon to explode and Alejandro, catching on its sensitive side, shushed Rodolfo who gave a sheepish smile to both of you.

And seeing the tension rise again, you gave a kind smile to him before nudging Soap who looked at you curiously. You smirked teasingly, head pointing to Alejandro and Rodolfo with a shit-eating grin. "Take notes on that, will ya?"

"Oh God, woman... You're the worst."

"Damn right, I am. You gotta ask how they did it before we leave and I want my 100."

He groaned and looked out the window when they took a turn to reach where Hassan was hiding while both Mexicans looked at you with smiles.

Both sides unaware of the chaos that would happen in the next hours...

Who would have known that mission would reveal secrets you had been keeping to yourself?

But at what cost?

And who would have known that Rudy and Alejandro would have what they once lost?

#rodolfo x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x you #alejandro x reader x rudy #alejandro x reader #alejandro cod #alejandro mw2 #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #cod imagine #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro vargas x rodolfo parra #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare

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vcnillazelda · 1 year

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Hey, how a about Gaz x f!reader where reader is a rival of 141 and ends up kidnapping them. Reader joined the army a couple of months before Gaz so they know her well enough, so when she sees Gaz for the first time she’s like “who is this pretty thing” and flirts with him and stuff she even takes his hat before she leaves (she fr wears it everywhere) and he doesn’t get it back until she gets taken in for questioning or something. Tysm, have a good day :))

pretty boy

kyle “gaz” garrick x fem! reader

summary: the team slips up and ends up in a less than favourable situation, yet gaz gets quite the experience.

tags: kidnapping, enemies to lovers, dubcon affection, flirty! reader, gaz flirts back ngl, valeria is here too <3, mild spoilers, angst with a happy ending, eventual fluff, smoking, sharing cigarettes, paranoia, survivors guilt, not canon compliant

a/n: i low-key went above and beyond for this ngl- i just love him so much look at his pretty face 😭

✞———————❖———————✞

gaz wakes up, blinking a few times. he’s confused, his head is pounding, and most importantly he doesn’t recognise his surroundings. “what the…?” he whispers, memories slowly trickling back in to him. the team, something went wrong- their intel was wrong about el sin nombre. the enemy had the upper hand. “you’re awake.” a voice chimes. it’s awfully familiar, yet he can’t pin it. the door opens fully, and a woman steps in. valeria garza… el sin nombre. how did he end up with the boss out of everyone in the cartel. “fuck you.” gaz snarls, yet the woman just laughs. “feisty. i like that, it’s more satisfying to snuff them.” she mumbles, pistol vaguely brushing under his chin, tilting his head back. “here’s how this is going to go. you’ll tell me all the information you can offer about your little… operation- and in return, i’ll let you live.” she purrs, gaz tilts his head away. “over my dead body.” he grumbles, adrenaline spiking as her safety clicks off. “don’t test me.” valeria’s voice goes stern and icy.

“boss. alejandro wants to talk to you.” another voice says from the door, and she pulls away. “is that so? he finally come to his senses?” she asks, and you step in. “it appears so. i can take care of this one for you.” you state, and valeria chuckles. “i’d expect nothing less from you, novata.” valeria leans in, whispering something to you before leaving the room. you wait until the door is shut before turning to him, a soft smile on your lips. (rookie)

“aren’t you pretty.” you smile, slinking around his chair so he couldn’t see you. “who are you?” he demands, trying not to tense up as your fingers slide over his shoulders teasingly. “that’s not important… i wanna know about you.” your hand moves, index finger gently tapping his cheek. gaz tilts his head away. “you’re not getting anything from me.” he mutters, his wrists aching due to the binds around them. “that’s a shame. i was gonna do something nice, a quid pro quo….” you trail off, snatching his hat and placing it onto your own head as you move around him, taking a seat upon his lap. gaz sucks in a soft breath, averting your gaze, yet your slender fingers grasp his jaw, bringing him back. “look at me, pretty boy… tell me, how long have you been under the task force?” you ask, index and middle fingers gently stroking his skin. gaz feels weak.

“a few months, at least.” he mutters, cracking under your suffocating pressure. “is that so..?” you ask, voice a soft mumble as you take in his features. “yeah.” he responds, deciding on soaking in your visage as well, he wanted to remember so he could take you down- yet you’re so pretty, he can’t help but want you on his side. “why are you with el sin nombre?” he blurts out, and you chuckle. “my, you’re straightforward aren’t you?” you ask back, and he hums. “a little… i just wanna know the pretty girl on my lap a bit better.” he smiles, trying to use your own tactics against you whilst also genuinely trying to flirt with you. “i might tell you, if you tell me your name.” you reply, getting up. “gaz. my names gaz.”

you laugh again, and this time he feels a little confused. “what?” he asks, and you stifle your giggles. “do you think i was born yesterday? your real name, cutie.” you smile, hand resting upon the table before him. “kyle. what’s your name?” he knows it’s stupid to ask, and you simply smile sweetly, moving on. “my boss, el sin nombre- isn’t she cool? she wants some intel. normally i’d get it myself but you and your friends fell right into my honeytrap. it would be a shame to waste this time with just flirting.” you mumble, and kyle hums. “what if i want to flirt with you?” he asks, and you giggle. “you wouldn’t be the first.” you wink. “shame. i’d like having you on my side.” gaz gives a smile, and you hum. “is that so?” you ask, voice soft. “i don’t think we’d be that good of a match. i’m in a cartel.” he jumps at the opportunity. “we’d protect you. you don’t have to be here.” you laugh at his words. “baby, no one gets rid of el sin nombre. this little thing is just empty flirting.” you dismiss his attempts at a negotiation. he doesn’t know why, but gaz feels slightly hurt that you turned him down.

“i see.” he mumbles, and you give him a dramatic pout. “don’t be too sad, we can still talk.” you state, it’s meant to be patronising, yet gaz takes it straight to his heart. “i’d hope so. it would be a shame to lose a pretty face so soon.” you smile at his words. “you’re adorable. it’s such a shame i can’t keep you for myself.” you mutter, grasping his face with gentle palms. gaz smiles at you, and you pull away, looking at the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, and you look back at him. “hm… gouging options…” you mumble, thumbs softly stroking his cheekbones. “and what would those options be?” he mutters. you smile again and gaz feels like he’s winning the olympics.

“come with me. i want to show you something…” you mumble, unsheathing your blade and cutting him free. “a risky move.” he mumbles, and you hum. “you wouldn’t hurt a pretty thing like me, i can see it in your eyes.” you pat his chest as he gets up. “how would you know?” he asks, and you giggle, grabbing his hand. “i just do.” you tug him along, opening the door. “be quiet. i wouldn’t want to hurt you.” you whisper, leading him through the hallways. gaz feels lost, simply following you blindly, for all he knew he could be walking to his death- yet he was doing it with a very pretty girl by his side.

as soon as the two of you step outside, the cold night air nips his face and he wishes he had his hat back to protect his ears from the freezing temperature- yet he doesn’t want to be rude, even if you kidnapped him and supposedly his friends… he would have to ask if you had his colleagues. “look.” you mumble, nudging his side as you sit upon a broken wall overlooking the road leading up to the base. “what am i looking at?” he asks, leaning upon the wall. you grasp his chin, tilting his head up from the road so he could see the view. “this is one of el sin nombre’s hideouts. it’s beautiful out here.” you mumble, showing gaz the quarry the hideout was hidden by. “it is beautiful.” he agrees, furrowing his brows. “why are you showing me this?”

“i’m tapped into your friends’ comms. they’re scanning through this area soon. i want you to have a look at where you’re going.” you point to the quarry, the gushing water distant. “i’m the only one here?” he asks, and you nod. “i promise, you’re the only one.” you tell him. “why are you helping me?” gaz asks, and you smile, it’s more sad now. “you’re too pretty for this place, kyle. go do what i couldn’t do.” you gesture to the open area around you. “what couldn’t you do?” you chuckle at his question. “i was in training at the task force you’re in, 141… i was in the same situation as you. i…” you trail off, taking a soft breath. “i’m kind of stuck here- but it’s okay. valeria’s nice enough to me.” you mumble, looking at some fireflies in the distance. gaz absorbs the information, blinking. “that’s why you’re helping me…” he mutters, and you nod. “come with me.” he states, drawing your gaze to his face.

“i can’t.” you deadpan, and he grasps your arm gently. “you can! we’re here, together. you said it yourself, my team is coming here soon-“ you cut gaz off by resting your palm against his chest. “gaz, listen. i cant. el sin nombre will kill me the second she finds out i did this for you. there’s no doubt in my mind she’ll figure it out, she’s smart like that…” you tell him, and gaz sighs. “so come with me, we can leave now.” he can’t believe he’s begging you, an enemy, to come with him- how would he explain that? “kyle…” you mumble, sighing softly as you got down from the wall. “i’d love to, really… but i cant.” you tell him. “please go.” you request, and gaz grasps your arms before you can leave. “not until i convince you to come with me. you don’t have to be here, you don’t have to be scared- i can help you.” he tells you, and you see the desperation to help you in his eyes. “no one can help me.” you tell him, leaning in.

your lips ghost over his, and he kisses you with the gentleness of someone holding a thin shard of glass. it’s short and fleeting yet so sweet. you seize the opportunity, pushing him with all your might so he tumbled over the wall. gaz yells at the suddenness, sliding and rolling down the hill, hitting his hip on a rock. he stumbles to his feet at the bottom, looking up. you give him a sad smile before dipping back into the warehouse. gaz let’s out a soft sigh, turning and running to the quarry where he would wait to be rescued.

weeks pass by, and gaz finally convinced alejandro to raid the warehouse, desperate to find you… hes kissed you once, but he didn’t even get your name. gaz feels like kicking himself, pacing as price rolls his eyes. “you’ll mark the carpet at this rate, son.” he states, and gaz lets out a soft hum; not responding any more than that. “sit down. relax. the boys will find your mystery girl.” the older man pats the chair beside him, and gaz sighs. “i can’t believe i didnt get her name…” he grumbles, and price chuckles. “heat of the moment, son. plenty of men do it.” he teases, backing off with fake surrender as gaz gives him a glare. “okay, okay. just sit down, you’re making me anxious.” price tells him, and he sighs. “fine…”

hours tick by, but eventually rudy pops his head into the break room. “gaz? there’s a girl in questioning. she wants to speak to you.” he states, and gaz immediately hops up, running to the rooms. he sees you through the two way mirror and immediately opens the door. alejandro looks over, giving him a nod. “i’ll take over, alejandro. thanks.” he mutters, taking the handcuff’s key from the older man and watching the other leave before closing the door. his gaze meets yours, and you give a small smile. “what happened?” he asks, immediately unlocking the cuffs around your wrists. “oh, sweet boy… no one can cross el sin nombre and go unpunished.” you smile, it’s sad and weak. “have you received medical aid?” he asks, cupping your face the way you did weeks ago. “no, not yet. your boss doesn’t trust me.” you reply, and gaz furrows his brows. “alejandro?” he asks, and you nod. “seems right…” he mutters, turning to leave. “hey..?” you grasp his wrist and he turns back. “im going to get you some medical aid.” he explains, and you chuckle softly. “it’s not that bad, trust me.” you assure him, pulling him back slowly. “alright…”

you watch him sit on the seat across from you. “you still have my hat?” he asks, and you smile, nodding a little. “yeah. haven’t taken it off since i met you.” you tell him. you seem less flirty in this environment, probably because of the environment- you most likely didn’t feel safe and gaz understood that. “what did they ask you?” he asks, and you shrug. “about el sin nombre’s plans. i told them all that i know, and i don’t know much.” you reply, and gaz nods. “are you joining us again?” gaz watches you laugh softly. “i doubt it, cutie.” you smile, it’s less pained. “why not?” he furrows his brows. “i worked with valeria garza. there’s no way your friends would trust me now.” you tell him, “i’m the one that arranged your kidnapping, too.” you add on, and gaz nods a little. “you’re also the one who let me go unharmed.”

“yeah..” you mumble, and gaz takes your hand in his. “stay with me. i’ll keep you safe.” he whispers. you give his hand a tight squeeze, as if it’s the affection you’ve been craving your whole life. “i wish i could… el sin nombre is probably arranging my assassination right now as we speak- she probably thinks i’m giving a lot more information than i have.” you sigh, thumb running over his knuckles as you stare at the table, lost. “why’d you put your life at risk just for me?” he asks, it’s a question that’s been nagging him since he got rescued. “you’re cute, not to mention smart and obviously skilled to get into 141. you’d be an awful waste of you died so early into your career. besides, i told you why on the wall.” you shrug, smiling rather innocently. “you like me..?” he asks, and you chuckle. “that’s what you gathered from that entire sentence?” you smile. “maybe.” he smiles back.

the conversation carries on. you’re much more comfortable, your flirty nature coming back as you grow to trust gaz with your safety. gaz’s cheeks hurt from smiling at you so much. it feels like an odd first date… yet you probably don’t see it that way. “i’ll ask price to let you back in… your file must be here somewhere, especially if you were marked as m.i.a.” gaz declares, you downcast your gaze. “you don’t have to.” you mutter, and gaz sighs. “i want to. think of it as me repaying you for saving me.” he responds, and you hum. “okay… but i don’t think it’s gonna work…” you reply. gaz nods, getting up, taking his hat back with a soft smile. “i’ll see what i can do for you.” he goes to walk away, yet you tug him back for the second time. standing, you pull him in and kiss his cheek. “thank you, kyle.” you mutter, sitting back down. “for what?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “for believing in me. it takes guts to accept an enemy.” you smile, and gaz sighs. “you’re no enemy. just a victim of circumstance.” he mutters, letting your palm slip from his as he leaves.

price looks skeptical. alejandro looks disgusted. rudy looks a little concerned. everyone looks extremely against him. “just trust me! she’s not as bad as them! she was one of us!” he argues despite no one saying anything. alejandro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “and if she’s playing you? what if she spills all our intel to el sin nombre and betrays us?” the man argues back, and gaz steels his gaze. “you saw the condition she’s in. el sin nombre is no ally of hers anymore. she’s in the same boat as us now, whether you like it or not!” he steps forward, his index finger poking alejandro’s chest as if to challenge him. “you better watch your tone with me, pendejo-“ he snaps, tone low and dangerous until price steps in. “y/n was a good soldier. i trust her… we just need to give her time to see if she’s still the same soldier we knew.”

alejandro looks from gaz to price, then back at gaz. “you’re agreeing with him?” he asks, still unsure as he looks to price again. “i am. y/n’s not as dangerous as you think.” he pats the other man’s shoulder. “trust me on this, alejandro.” he mutters, and gaz tries not to hold his breath. “fine. but, any suspicious activity and i’m putting her under the ground.” he grumbles, storming out. rudy looks at gaz once more before following alejandro. “does this mean y/n’s back on the team?” johnny asks, and price nods. “i guess so.”

gaz finds you outside, smoking a cigarette. rudy’s in the window beside you, keeping an eye on you as he smokes too. “i didn’t know you smoked.” gaz states openly, rudy nods a little as you hum. “he’s the one who gave it to me.” you mutter, gesturing to rudy who takes a silent drag. “i’m supposed to have quit… now seems like a good time to have a cig though… want some?” you ask, offering gaz your cigarette. he hums, accepting it as rudy snuffs his cigarette bud, flicking it into the drain. “i’ll leave you two be.” he mumbles, leaving the window open as he walks off- probably to find alejandro. “so… you’re back on the team.” gaz tells you, handing your cigarette back. “is that so?” you ask, not sounding too interested. “you don’t sound thrilled. what’s up?” he asks, and you sigh. “i wont last long… i feel it. she’s out there.” you mumble. “she won’t get you. i’m here with you.” gaz assures you. his fingers gently nudge your palm, and you glance down, looking up at him. he gives you a soft smile, and you slowly tangle your fingers into his.

your training started up again, price was warm and kind, being quite gentle with you. you’re progressing well, already back up to scratch with the team. alejandro doesn’t entirely trust you, yet rudy does as the two of you smoke together, chatting idly about home. you’re on a mission, using yourself as bait to catch valeria, and gaz is with you the whole time, assuring you that you’re okay every 10 minutes. valeria is now cuffed hours later, and alejandro is leading her to the appropriate forces. she’s shouting about how she won’t be locked up for long, and will be let out in about 24 hours. her gaze meets yours over rudy’s shoulder and your breath hitches. “and you- ¡traidora! you’ll get what’s coming to you!” she threatens. you tense up, swallowing thickly as you boldly grab gaz’s hand. valeria gets into the calm with quite a fuss, and alejandro closes the door with a sigh. “glad that’s over with.” he mutters, walking back to the squad. (traitor!)

gaz tugs your hand softly, leading you away from the scene as everyone starts wrapping up. “don’t worry about her, love. she wont get you for as long as i live.” he mutters, leading you to the car. you don’t respond, squeezing his hand tightly for comfort as the two of you get into the backseat. “relax. she’s gonna be in custody. i hope she’ll be away forever, but knowing how corrupt the system is she’ll probably be out sooner than that…” he mumbles, glancing at you. “sorry- i didn’t mean it like that…” he adds on, pulling you into a hug. you hug back, sighing. “i’m not as scared anymore- but i’m still paranoid.” you mumble, and gaz nods. “anyone would be.” he reassures you, rubbing your back as he rests his head against yours. “hey, how about we take a night off tonight? just us?” gaz suggests and you pull away a little. “okay…”

you’re half asleep against gaz, what was supposed to be a movie night between the two of you in his room was now a movie in the background as he coddles you to his chest. you’ve had a stressful day, so he understands wanting to just wind down and relax. one thing has been bothering gaz throughout the night… the two of you were incredibly close, too close to be friends- you both kissed often. he remembers after your first mission back with the task force the two of you drank before making out until your lips were sore and swollen. the two of you even shared a bed, and were always at each other’s side, yet neither of you used a label. gaz would like a label… he’d like you to be his. gently, he shakes you, causing you to stir again. “wha..? what’s wrong?” you ask, hands pressing to his chest. “sorry… i just…. i’ve been thinking.”

“oh god-“ you joke, cuddling back into him. “what are we, y/n? are we like… a thing?” gaz asks, and you hum. “i dunno… i haven’t really thought about it.” you reply, gaz feels rejection building. “would… you like to be a thing?” he asks cautiously. you smile, kissing his neck softly. “if you’d have me, gaz.” you mumble. gaz beams, pulling away a little to kiss your lips as if he were a man starved. “i’d love to have you as mine.” he mutters, voice soft. “then i’m yours.” you reply, hand gently stroking his cheek as he kisses you again. “get some rest, love. you need it.” he tells you, kissing your forehead. you hum, cuddling close to his chest again as gaz closes his eyes. he never thought he’d say it, but he’s glad he got kidnapped.

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #mw x reader #modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #modern warfare x you #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #mw2 gaz #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 call of duty

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foxcort · 8 months

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comforter (feyre ver). feyre/tamlin, feyre/cassian au, fluff | ao3

a drabble(ish) series of my favorite feyre ships based off these prompts by @dont-call-my-name-alejandro 💚 / floral banners by saradika.

feyre + tamlin; A waking up because of B getting out of bed to do something. A gets out of bed, finds B, and drags them back to bed.

So distantly it was like being wrapped in a fog, Feyre felt the bed shift, the sheets rustle and the sound of light footsteps retreat from the room with attempted quietness. "Tamlin?" she croaked, some barely risen part of her acknowledging he was gone before she patted the empty space beside her.

With a groan, she rolled from the bed, a flurry of messy hair and barely clad skin, before grabbing her discarded robe from the floor and slipping it on. Feyre sifted her fingers through her hair as she followed the path Tamlin was most likely to take, the cold marble underneath her feet gradually waking her with each step, until she ended up at the threshold of the council room. A fairly new addition to the manor, it was one Lucien had insisted be built to house council for both inner and outer court meetings.

At the moment, only Lucien and Tamlin occupied it, the pair of them standing at the head of a very long, ornately carved table washed in the early morning light spilling from the three large windows framing the eastern wall. Tamlin was dressed similarly to her, which was to say half-dressed at best, in a pair of hastily thrown on pants and a matching dark green, silk robe. A delight to her vision, the robe was left loosely tied and mostly open to expose the muscled, golden skin underneath, accentuated even more by the position of his arms crossed over his chest.

And perhaps she hadn't realized just how much Tamlin's visage was affecting her, for Lucien abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence and took a step back to give the high lord a sharp look of indignation. "I understand I've just pulled you away from your wife, but some decency and decorum would be lovely, Tam."

Tamlin, still half-asleep, gave his emissary a confused look, until whatever Lucien had felt belatedly hit him and his gaze shot to hers like some invisible thread had pulled it. Feyre resisted the urge to kiss him right then and there as he sent her a soft, knowing smile. "Morning, love." His voice was husky, unused and did absolutely terrible things to her self-control.

"No. No, no, no, no." Lucien shoved himself between them even as she stalked closer, her eyes never leaving Tamlin’s. “Just because you—" he pointed an accusing finger in her direction, "—are already prepared for this High Lord meeting, does not mean you can come in here and distract Tamlin when I've finally gotten a chance to prepare him." He folded his arms over his chest, looking every bit a courtier in his formal attire. "Don't forget you are the precise reason I haven't been able to find any time to council him yet, Feyre."

Feyre frowned, her gaze shifting between them, before she declared, "He's hardly dressed for a High Lord meeting."

Tamlin gave a low laugh, his fingers working to tie his robe closed and making her wish she'd chosen a different retort. "Lucien's right. As High Lord of Spring, I'm ill-prepared for this meeting."

"So when the time comes, let the High Lady of Spring take the lead," she challenged, turning her attention to him with a smile that was too predatory to be innocent. "You can sit pretty next to me."

Tamlin's returning smile grew wide, though it seemed he was fighting to control it. He turned to his emissary, a sheepish tinge to his smile now. "I could use the extra rest before they all start arriving."

"Please." Lucien rolled his eyes. "Cauldron knows the two of you don't actually use a bed for its intended purpose."

"A bed can have many purposes, Lucien." Feyre moved closer, looping her hands around Tamlin's neck, who was only too eager to lift her into his arms, one arm slung across the back of her thighs and the other supporting her lower back. "Just because you only use yours for sleeping, doesn't mean the rest of us don't have more creative ideas for it." Lucien gave her an unamused look, but she caught the grin curving Tamlin's mouth as he began to walk them out of the room.

"I'd better see you back in here in an hour, my lady."

Feyre had only a second to shout a replied "Fine!" down the hall, before Tamlin's mouth met hers and everything else was forgotten.

feyre + cassian; A keeping B from getting out of bed by holding them closer, maybe a few kisses here and there. / slightly nsfw!!

"You're terrible."

"Mmhm." Cassian's rumbling response, so close to her ear when he had her trapped in his arms and squeezed against his chest, sent a shiver down Feyre's spine. Cauldron boil him, but he knew exactly how to make her body react. Even when he was half-asleep, and almost as well as she knew how to coax a response from him.

Somehow she managed to remember the reason a sense of urgency had woken her from her sleep, snagging onto it even as the warmth of his arms threatened to envelop her whole. “Emerie’s going to kill me if I show up late again.” She'd promised her friend a morning sparring session with the rest of their training group. Unfortunately, Cassian was Cauldron-bent on making her late to everything nowadays and a tiny, restless part of her couldn't blame him. After all their time skirting around the pull that drew them to each other, after finally admitting what they felt . . . neither could convince the other leaving their bed was worth it.

Feyre froze as he dropped a kiss upon her bare shoulder. “No, she won’t." He sounded like he was smiling. “I told her you'd be training with me today.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks, her heart thundering in her chest. “Cassian.”

"Yes, Feyre?" She could feel the teasing smile against her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. Her thoughts were muffled, lost in a collision of a train wreck, the reasonable part of herself drowning in a slew of indecent thoughts just as his fingers curled over her hip. "Should I stop?" He paused his descent and she squeezed his forearm, nails drawing half-moon patterns across his skin. "Would you prefer training with the Valkyries today?"

Frustration flared and Feyre realized he didn't sound so sleepy anymore. No, the bastard was fully awake, tapping those fingers against her hip and refusing to move closer to where she wanted them. "Cassian," she repeated, a growl more than anything.

She felt more than heard his chuckle against her ear, before his fingers dipped lower and she was lost to her pleasure.

#feylin #feyre x tamlin #tamlin x feyre #feyssian #feyre x cassian #cassian x feyre #feyre archeron #tamlin #cassian #acotar fic #it just feels RIGHT when i finally get a chance to write and post feylin like all the planets have aligned and everything is happy #feyre/jurian would be on here if I knew how to write him but I need to complete my reread before I attempt that #also this one is titled feyre ver because im (slowly) working on a nesta ver #🌷#🪻

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unveilkingston · 1 month

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MUSES MASTERLIST & NAVI

liam kingston ↣ 27 ↣ cupid ↣ cody christian ↣ switch verse-bottom intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

edward kingston ↣ 28 ↣ merfolk ↣ jonah hauer-king ↣ dominate verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

david kingston ↣ 29 ↣ incubi ↣ zach tinker ↣ switch verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

rylan kingston ↣ 31 ↣ hellhound ↣ joshua orpin ↣ submissive verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

ethan kingston ↣ 35 ↣ cupid ↣ glen powell ↣ submissive verse-bottom intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

elias kingston ↣ 35 ↣ cupid ↣ glen powell ↣ switch verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

easton kingston ↣ 35 ↣ cupid ↣ glen powell ↣ dominate verse-top intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

benjamin kingston ↣ 37 ↣ werebear ↣ richard madden ↣ dominate verse-top intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

mason kingston ↣ 38 ↣ banshee ↣ james lafferty ↣ switch verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

thiago kingston ↣ 38 ↣ familiar ↣ alejandro speitzer ↣ switch verse intro / visage / starters / threads / bodyclaim / musings

#( pinned post. )#( navi. )#( mobile. )

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buriedself · 6 months

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MULTIMUSE FOR WEALTHTV , WRITTEN BY KAY

001. VICENTE ALEJANDRO CORTEZ — intro / threads / visage / musings 002. HARPER HYUNJUNG KANG — intro / threads / visage / musings 003. JAMES ABEKE MUYIWA — intro / threads / visage / musings 000. RESOURCES — strifesource showbiz baby template / olliviacooke sandra oh gifs / wegif ayo edebiri gifs / lorigifs pedro pascal gifs / khadijha pedro pascal gifs

#DNI.

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stillsweetandwild · 7 months

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Frida Kahlo (Mexicaine, 1907-1954) - Autoportrait à la robe de velours, 1926 // Huile sur toile, 78.7 cm x 58.4 cm //Collection privée

Autoportrait à la robe de velours est seulement le deuxième tableau de Frida Kahlo. Peint juste après son accident de bus (qui lui laissera des séquelles terribles), elle le confiera dans un premier temps à Diego Rivera, un célèbre peintre mexicain, qui sera plus tard son amant puis mari.

En voyant le tableau, Diego Rivera réalisa tout de suite que la jeune fille avait un don, sinon un talent certain pour la peinture. C’est lui qui la poussera à se lancer dans ce domaine et qui l’encouragera une grande partie de sa vie.

Frida s’est peinte ici elle-même, car c’est un autoportrait. Elle s’est représentée avec un grand décolleté, plutôt osé pour une fille de 19 ans à son époque. Même si elle accentue déjà beaucoup ses sourcils, elle paraît très féminine, plus que dans les autres autoportraits qui suivront les années suivantes. La main, dans la partie inférieure du tableau, semble inviter le spectateur à la rejoindre.

Avant son accident, Frida et Alejandro Gomez Arias étaient amants. Mais quand elle se retrouve partiellement et temporairement paralysée, il se détourne d’elle. Ce tableau avait pour but premier de le faire revenir, en lui montrant combien elle tenait à lui et en lui disant qu’elle l’aimait encore.

L’arrière-plan très foncé fait ressortir sa peau et surtout son visage. D'après le journal intime de Frida, le bleu signifiait l’amour et la distance. Le rouge avait pour elle un rapport avec le sang. Les couleurs en elles-mêmes indiqueraient que la distance avec son amour la fait souffrir.

http://www.3e-art.fr/.../autoportrait-la-robe-de-velours...

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radiicals · 1 year

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ALEJANDRO SANTOS' TAG DUMP !!

( you know it’s not the same as it was ;; alejandro visage )

( on the outside always looking in ;; alejandro musingisms )

( she's so high above me ;; alejandro convo )

( kiss me thru the phone ;; alejandro texts )

( family is important ;; alejandro fam )

( you only love her if you let her go ;; alejandro desires )

( let’s do it toinight ;; alejandro social )

#tag dump

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limpressionnistedemolenbeek · 1 year

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Tome 2 du roman de “L’impressionniste de Molenbeek”.

Disponible ici :

https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B0BQCPVVZY?binding=paperback&ref=dbs_dp_rwt_sb_pc_tukn

Alejandro pense à Houria et lit le message qu’elle vient de lui envoyer. Debout, il regarde par sa baie vitrée et voit le bureau du big-boss, le Général-major Ceulemans, le directeur général du renseignement militaire belge, encore allumé. Le soldat réajuste sa veste et sa coupe de cheveux, puis se dirige vers le bureau du General. L’écurie est en activité et des analystes veillent encore à cette heure tardive. Le major déboule devant le bureau et frappe à la vitre. Les stores sont abaissés et la lumière allumée. Après trois secondes, il toque une deuxième fois.

— Entrez, dit la grosse voix du Général-major Ceulemans.

Le soldat passe à nouveau sa main dans ses cheveux ainsi que sur son visage et pénètre dans un calme parfaitement simulé. Le Général-major se plie et dit « Salam Aalaikoum ». Ensuite, il ramasse le tapis de prière marocain et le range dans un tiroir pendant que le soldat observe la déco à base de coupes et photos. Il remarque la tendance hygiéniste du Général, qui s’assied sur un siège en cuir et dit au major debout :

— Couchez soldat, vous arrive-t-il mon enfant de prier pour effacer vos multiples péchés légaux ? Alejandro Jiménez Pinto, un vrai putto. Dans notre confrérie, on subit la solitude, alors un p’tit appui divin n’a jamais fait de mal. De fil en aiguille, j’ai découvert les cultures de nos théâtres d’opé et comme vous savez la culture et la religion, c’est identique ! Après mon divorce, j’ai opté pour l’Islam Sainte Marie Jérusalem. Ça m’permet d’être aimé par dieu, le vendredi à la mosquée Sunnite ou Chiite, le samedi, un coup d’œil à la Syna et le dimanche, j’bois l’café à l’église Protestante, Orthodoxe ou Catho. Pour un serviteur du renseignement, j’cultive mes sources ! Jiménez, que puis-je faire pour vous ? Et faudra faire quelque chose pour votre pif un jour.

— Général, avec tout le respect que j’vous dois et l’protocole, je vais pas y aller par 4 chemins. Pourquoi on ne bosse pas en Priorité sur les trois Mafias du Canna-Biz qui fournissent les ennemis du Plan Canal. On cherche à nous faire perdre notre temps ou quelqu’un veut nuire volontairement à une partie de notre population, demande le major avec les mains qui le chatouillent.

La blessure au couteau a laissé des marques.

— Éternellement habité par le feu de la justice ! J’vois en vous, le jeune homme que j’étais dans le noble temps de la Belgique de papa où les choses étaient binaires parce qu’on savait qui étaient les mauvais ! Le capitalisme criminel cartonne et ces mecs sont plus forts que nos États. Avec 4% du PIB mondial et des narco banques plus puissantes que la banque européenne, c’est pas un fait divers avec un chien écrasé à Molenbeek ! Une banque comme HSSBC a recyclé les milliards des cartels drogues avec une fraude fiscale bien supérieure à 180 milliards. Avec ces 20.000 sociétés offshores, 100.000 clients dans le monde, notre Belgique est impliquée avec une fraude de 6 milliards de $ sur 4500 comptes bancaires au nom de 3000 bons citoyens belges.

— Général, on doit attaquer le problème au cœur, avec une bonne balle.

— Les causeries sur l’efficacité de la lutte anti-blanchiment sont ridiculement exagérées quand les banques et les bourses passent leur temps à blanchir les terroristes, vendeurs d’armes ou de drogues et autres personnes dans le viseur d’Interpol, précise le Général avec un cigare en main et un briquet.

— Je m’occuperai de cet État blanchisseur ! J’ai déjà été en Suisse.

— J’reconnais en vous le fanatique patriote mais vous oubliez le Luxembourg et le narco-état Hollandais. J’ai même cru comprendre que vous êtes encore fidèle à la vieille doctrine, vous gardez les russes dans le viseur, c’est honorable ! Mais notre criminalité en col blanc gangrène le système. Examinez l’Espagne, sa crise économique fut provoquée par le blanchiment de l’argent de la cocaïne d’Amérique du sud et du chocolat marocain qui surévaluait son économie. Régulièrement, des enquêtes sur les mafias visent des ministres ou parlementaires européens impliqués dans l’immobilier, le secteur des déchets, le nettoyage et la construction et dans certains pays, les citoyens n’osent plus utiliser des ponts instables construits par les mafias.

— Général, pourquoi le parlement fédéral n’a pas légalisé le Cannabis comme tous les pays civilisés ?

— La réponse est dans la question comme disait Goethaels ! C’est seulement idéologique et non rationnel ! Légaliser le cannabis et vous brisez une corde de l’arc des identitaires/nationalistes ou séparatistes du Nord dont le Plan Canal est le rêve à partir d’une hasardeuse combinaison ! D’un côté, on a eu l’accession au pouvoir de ces partis et de l’autre, les explosions à Bruxelles. L’occasion était trop belle, ils n’ont pas raté le coche pour enclencher leur plan et provoquer la montée d’un climat identitaire, séparatiste et sécuritaire.

— Général, pourquoi vous m’dites tout ça ? demande le soldat assis.

— Avant, le mur de Berlin indiquait la direction des missiles mais de nos jours, tout est flou et la politique politicienne a pris le dessus. Nous vivons une époque comme les années 30 avec le retour des identitaires/nationalistes/séparatistes et flamingants du Nord, ces enfoirés en costard n’ont ni la même vision ni le même respect de l’État et de la Nation. Ces partis et leurs partisans manipulent l’État pour arriver à leurs fins. Major, la grande muette est infiltrée par des philosophies schismatiques et comme j’prends ma pension dans un mois, j’ai laissé couler. Dans le chaos des attaques sur notre sol, ces enfoirés d’universitaires voulaient m’embrouiller, dit le big-boss du renseignement militaire belge au milieu des fumées de cigare.

— L’chômage pour ces maîtres en plagiat ! Général, avec tout l’protocole, pourquoi les divisions Extrême Droite et Hybridation & Criminalité Organisée/Mafias sont vidées des analystes ? dit Alejandro en consultant son carnet.

— Soldat, vous êtes un intellectuel du flingage, c’est si rare de nos jours. Depuis la chute de Berlin, le monde est chaotique et avec lui d’autres murs se sont écroulés et on a commencé à découvrir une relation d’hybridation et de mariage entre des équipes criminelles et d’autres spécialisées en violence politique. Vous savez, les faux révolutionnaires en Colombie se financent par la cocaïne, c’est des mafias ou des opposants politiques ? Le trafic est un moyen ou une finalité ? Vous devez avoir une opinion, je sais que vous avez bourlingué dans le monde abandonné. Vous aimez explorer les soubassements des théâtres des opé avec l’âme du géologue militaire, d’après votre dossier ! L’occident ne représente que 15 % de la population mondiale et pour gagner une putain de guerre ou un match de foot, il faut connaitre le savoir-faire et la culture de l’opposant, parce que l’adversaire réagit pas toujours comme vous. Donc il mérite le respect et l’analyse de son jeu. Nos arrivistes de ministres en écharpe Hermès connaissent pas la culture des quartiers populaires et ils occupent le terrain en utilisant le mot terrorisme ! Voyez-vous, le terrorisme est un mot fourretout pour cacher son jeu mais pour moi, on devrait utiliser le mot guerre irrégulière. De nos jours, on ne peut pas combattre la Mafia comme si on faisait la guerre au Kaiser en 1914. On ne connait pas assez nos adversaires, pourtant ils se cachent dans nos rues et on continue à négliger l’aspect politique des Mafias parce qu’elles manipulent nos lois et deviennent une force politique, vu qu’elles ont des élus dans tous les parlements, comme les porteurs d’un islam politique. Les deux cherchent à imposer leurs lois, Major, connaissez-vous notre fameuse fragilité psychologique ?

— Affirmatif Général, j’ai suivi vos cours à l’école militaire avec le roi.

— Depuis 45, nous vivons une période de paix dans un univers pouponné avec les droits, le Godiva, les Audi et le wifi dans des trams à l’heure. Notre société vit dans l’abondance et nous enflons dans la déprime subsidiée par la mutuelle en négligeant les forces obscures des Cartels et Mafieux !

— Plus on vit dans des sociétés sécuritaires, plus on a peur de perdre ce qu’on possède, c’est mécanique, dit le major en ajustant sa veste noire.

— Nous sommes devenus terrorisables parce que nous avons perdu l’habitude de la violence dans nos villes, alors qu’autrefois l’Europe terrorisait les 4 continents à coups de canons, fusils, machettes ou whisky ! Hier l’adversaire ne nous connaissait pas, aujourd’hui, il vit chez nous et se balade à la Grand-Place ou dans nos Parlements. Analysez les techniques de propagandes des extrémistes religieux, des mafieux et des nationalistes avec les styles hollywoodiens des clips et like sur Facebook ! Nos médias du spectacle, dans leur abrutissement général diffusent même les messages ennemis sur You Tube et Facebook au nom de nos valeurs parait-t-il.

— Quand on a tout, on a rien ! dit le major, assis avec un cigare en main.

— Quand j’lis la propagande des terroristes, j’m’rends compte qu’ils nous connaissent trop, on dirait que le rédacteur-chef habite à Bruxelles. Pour moi, c’est pas des terroristes, c’est des révolutionnaires ! Observez les manœuvres des Chinois, Japonais, Africains du sud, Indiens, Coréens du sud, ils visent la revanche historique contre l’occident par le développement économique, la puissance et le travail pour enrichir la nation. Honda, Samsung, Huawei, Ali baba, voilà nos ennemis ! J’peux vous posez une question, Jiménez ? Pourquoi les modérés ne meurent pas pour la cause, est-ce un manque d’idéologie ?

— Les idéologisés sont motivés et se hissent au-dessus d’eux-mêmes pour toucher la cible, c’est une question de tempérament, répond le major avec le cigare allumé en main.

— Profeciaat, vous donnez la chair de poule et vous êtes toujours prêt à mourir pour votre pays ? dit le big-boss dans un nuage de fumée.

— Général, j’suis animé dès que j’sens le danger, réplique le soldat en craquant ses doigts.

— Vous oubliez le lien entre la supériorité technologique, l’infériorité stratégique et le handicap spirituel ? dit le Général avec un 2 ème verre de tequila.

— La spiritualité n’est pas dans mon rayon, j’m’occupe seulement d’expédier les âmes en enfer, répond le major au milieu de la fumée de cigare.

— À Bruxelles, j’vois des bataillons de citoyens attifés en photocopies qui mangent et pensent la même merde de chez Hanouna. Tout le monde boit son café pourri chez Starbucks, s’habille Raza et Nike avec un iPhone au MC do. Le wifi dans le cerveau engendre une démobilisation tragique ! Vous pensez que nous sommes en situation de guerre ?

— Négatif Général ! On n’est même pas dans la guerre froide, si on était en guerre, on aurait une censure de guerre. Malheureusement, dans notre société, on vend la peur à la TV ! L’univers a toujours été conflictuel et chaque famille, pays ou puissance protège ses intérêts, c’est la continuation tranquille d’un long fleuve où la tragédie est démocratique.

Dans le bureau d’un guerrier poète des champs de bataille, la musique classique qui sort des enceintes est inattendue.

— Major, nous sommes des obsédés de la sécurité et des habitués de douillettes sensibleries sucrées. Nous zappons la réalité à coups d’antidépresseurs et on attend que le robot ou l’immigré fasse le sale boulot. Nous sommes manipulés comme des aveugles ! Personne sait ce qui se passe dans notre pays et pourquoi 20 jeunes seraient un Danger National, Jiménez ?

— On nous a vendu une fausse guerre, Général, c’est évident ! La rumeur vient d’un civil sans ressource.

— Jiménez, vous jouez au premier de classe mais que j’sache, les terroristes n’ont jamais possédé de sous-marins pour passer la drogue ou les armes. Nos véritables ennemis intérieurs sont les politiques apatriotes, les fanatiques religieux, les djihadistes et les mafias, dit le Général avec du souci dans la voix.

— Vous êtes lucide chef, aucun enfoiré n’échappe à votre fine analyse ! dit le major pour calmer l’ambiance.

— Voir tant d’énergie gaspillée dans le fameux Plan Canal me ronge! J’vais finir par m’choper un cancer de la prostate avec ce déni généralisé. Nous sommes aveuglés par l’actualité et le citoyen est gavé d’infos en pièces détachées. J’vous conseille la lecture mon enfant, pour comprendre pourquoi l’occident avec ses valeurs bienveillantes perd la guerre contre les puissantes mafias et les politiques séparatistes ! Au fond, Alejandro, vous êtes encore un bon occidental, vous vous auscultez dans le miroir sans complaisance parce que vous connaissez le prix de la liberté.

Le major lâche son cigare dans le cendrier et recharge son arme.

— La météo a tourné, le vent du nord colonise le sud ! Parlez-moi de votre plan secret, Putto ?

— J’suis encore dans l’ébauche, Général, j’ai pas votre sens de la riposte !

— M’la jouez pas en mode prude, j’veux votre éval de la situation de manière objective ! demande le Général en soufflant de la fumée sur le soldat.

— Ma source, un civil, un analyste de Molenbeek, un allumé à la marijuana m’a bourré le mou pour légaliser l’cannabis, il compte convaincre des candidats pour proposer à nos honorables citoyens ce projet politique aux élections régionales, dit le major.

— Il compte s’y prendre comment votre allumé de cette historique commune ? Il est fiable ? Vous savez dans cette commune, le service a perdu le nord comme les nazis.

— Ce généreux molenbeekois table sur la clairvoyance des citoyens avec des arguments rationnels. Selon lui dans les communes du centre, l’électorat est mûr pour la légalisation, il compte travailler les familles des détenus tombés pour vente cannabis. D’un point de vue statistique, ça peut cheminer et son approche peut séduire nos intelligents concitoyens.

Le Général tape sur la table avec sa grosse main et dit :

— Comme disait le grand Machiavel, celui qui bâtit sur le peuple, bâtit sur la boue ! Oubliez ce plan rudimentaire Putto, c’est pas assez ambitieux ! Montez-moi une opé parallèle et clandestine pour arriver aux mêmes objectifs et ne laissez aucun paramètre aux mains de la clairvoyance de nos citoyens, ils pensent mais ne savent rien de rien, même avec un diplôme post-universitaire dit le Général en portant le coup final.

— Que dois-je faire précisément ? demande le soldat, surpris.

— Continuez à sévir charitablement sur le Plan Canal pour endormir le n°2 du renseignement. Comme tout n°2, il rêve de devenir n°1 mais surtout méfiez-vous de lui, c’est un bureaucrate qui vogue en fonction des vents dominants. Ce gratte-papier ne possède pas l’ancrage patriotique, je le soupçonne d’être allié aux politiques flamingants. Alejandro, j’ai espéré avant ma pension voir apparaitre un patriote analphabète en politique avec le sens des responsabilités et qui n’a pas peur de ramasser. Jamais mes prières n’auraient pu être mieux exaucées, Allah est grand. D’après votre dossier, vous portiez ce surnom, vous pouvez me l’rappeler encore.

— L’asphalteur, répond le soldat, la voix basse, dans sa veste militaire noire, entouré de fumée de son cigare.

— Soyez pas timide, un homme sans mauvaise réputation est un banal, soyez fier et vous connaissez les guerres irrégulières ou asymétriques.

— Affirmatif Général.

— Je vous suggère de gérer notre problème avec les mafias selon vos méthodes d’asphaltage ! D’une manière clandestine, déstabilisez la plus faible des trois mafias et poussez les deux survivantes à s’éliminer entre elles. Semez la zizanie et surprenez-les par des actions imprévisibles pour réquisitionner le fameux stock pour votre projet de légalisation cannabis, si jamais vos candidats arrivent à vendre l’offre politique.

— Général, vous m’surestimez, c’est pas gros pour un agent sans section ?

— Quand on est une grosse structure, on se pense imbattable, or une grosse structure s’adapte lentement. Seul, comme l’éclair tombez-leur dessus comme un faucon du Yémen, le temps qu’ils déchiffrent, vous changerez de registre pour avoir un coup d’avance comme aux échecs ! Sachez les surprendre et réquisitionnez les stocks et l’argent, c’est le nerf d’la guerre ! Repérez des dealers et libérez le cash. L’intendance, c’est grave disait Napoléon. Et pour revenir à votre molenbeekois, manœuvrez-moi cet analyste avec délicatesse pour tirer le substrat de sa connaissance de Molenbeek et du croissant pauvre, c’est une zone dans l’ombre des radars et pressez-le comme un citron s’il le faut, la fin justifie les moyens ! Et renforcez son offensive électorale.

— J’ai besoin de mecs robustes pour ce genre de mission sur notre sol.

— Négatif, j’ai confiance en personne du service. Jiménez, interprétez à votre sauce, l’opération Maskirovka, c’est une mission niveau 4 et réglez les détails avec le colonel Tchekhov.

— J’suis honoré, Général mais j’peux pas bosser avec les Russes, rétorque le major, debout dans sa veste noire militaire, prêt au combat.

— Se salir les mains et faire équipe avec des inamicaux peut être nécessaire pour entrer dans l’Histoire et n’oubliez jamais, il y a les bons et les mauvais russes. Donc avec vos nouveaux amis, harcelez au lieu d’affronter et soyez créatif dans le chaos.

— Autre chose, Général ?

— D’après un petit oiseau anonyme, une tendance à l’armement semble se dessiner en Flandre. Tous les soirs, je rêve de voir sur mon poste TV, après le pédagogue Zecca, la légalisation cannabis et l’arrestation du personnel politique antipatriote qu’ils soient séparatistes, extrémistes religieux ou mafieux, dans la bouche sucrée de la sublime speakerine Rachida avec ses longs cheveux noirs soyeux au JT de RTL-TVI. Vous serez tout seul pour réaliser mon rêve, donc ne le transformez pas en cauchemar !

— Pourquoi m’avez-vous choisi, Général, pour cette mission de merde ?

— Parce que vous le valez bien ! Je vous ai vu sur les bandes vidéo-surveillance au centre-ville, c’était comme si vous aimiez ce que vous faites ! J’ai senti en vous cet enthousiasme si rarissime.

— Général, J’ai le projet de me marier inchallah !

— Parfait Jiménez, une famille ça permet de rester debout contre vents et marées, alors mettez-vous au travail !

Le major sort, se dirige vers le parking et fonce vers l'appartement de Houria dans le quartier de la gare de Schaerbeek. Il accélère en repensant aux paroles du Général. Le raisonnement logique du major reprend les choses en mains, il recompose et tisse la toile.

Chaque fois que j’ai une question, on me répond par le social et je n’peux admettre cette réponse simpliste. C’est la mafia le problème et j’ai toujours su que quelque chose clochait.

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