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#R6 Siege
goonblastt · 6 months
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Being high 🤝 playing video games
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dr-vauclair-art · 7 months
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6 Fanarts - #2 Emil "Fenrir" Svensson
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ryunumber · 4 months
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Monika “IQ” Weiss from Rainbow Six Siege?
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Monika "IQ" Weiss has a Ryu Number of 3.
(clarification below)
I'm aware of the Like a Dragon née Yakuza collaboration skins.
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These are pretty clearly the operators effectively cosplaying as the characters and not the actual characters. Not that this would be the first time Kiryu or Majima's prominently wielded firearms.
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(Sayama's a cop, so, you know, comes with the territory.)
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chadillacboseman · 13 days
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Squad up!
@quiddling just finished this incredible commission of Notch and 404 (@glitchviper) in their squad uniforms (Ghosteyes and Wolfguard). If you can't tell, Notch is probably saying something annoying.
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luciifernn · 9 months
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spetsnaz
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starliights-shining · 6 months
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"A Drink and Maybe dinner?"
Hello, This is a Kapkan fic I wrote for a person very dear in my life(@montyuh.) I thought maybe you guys would like to read it too! So here it is. I do believe I might start up request for Siege at some point, but for now here is this! Enjoy :)
Pairing: Mazim "Kapkan" Basuda x GN! Reader
Warnings: None,
Translations:(i do apologize if its butchered) Олененок - Baby Deer сестра - Sister
Loud music and shitty cheap alcohol never mix well in your opinion. You spent your entire youth watching it happen, women and men fighting over a lingering glance from someone or from someone dancing on the other. So you tend to avoid it, but for some reason after years of avoiding it your team always brings you back to it, and tonight was no different. You sat at the bar, the blue lighting casting a heavy hue onto you and the rest of the attendees sitting. Your eyes were lost in the four large cubes of ice that were slowly melting. You thought about why you said yes to drinks from Mira, you could actually be relaxing right now, head buried in pillows and your body wrapped in a warm blanket as your bones finally stopped moving. Setting in for the week and allowing the weight to fully be dropped. You were shot at yes, but not hit or in worse shape, So you couldn’t be complaining. You were supposed to be ‘celebrating’ for no serious injuries after this last mission. 
The clanking of another glass being sat in front of you broke your thoughts. Your eyes quickly glancing up to the bartender in front of you. Her close lipped smile seemed unfriendly or jealous almost. 
“I didn’t order this.” 
You spoke up, pushing it back towards her before her hand stopped it. Her eyes almost rolling into the back of her hand as she spoke, a sigh leaving her lips first. 
“It’s from that tall military man over there.” 
She paused for a minute, smirking as you looked over in the direction of the man. 
“I mean if you don’t want it, i’ll take it.” 
You quickly shot her a glance before wrapping your hand around the glass and pulling it towards you. 
“That won’t be necessary.” 
You lifted it with a chuckle, taking a sip and looking over at him. You almost did not recognise him, if it wasn’t for the familiar looking group of men he was with. You just simply couldn’t miss the bald head of Sledge, and large frames of Fuze and Tachanka. You smiled to yourself, eyes slowly moving back up towards the tv that hung above the bar, you back finally meeting the backrest of your barstool. You thought about your options. Go talk to him? Sit here and wait for him to talk to you? Was this an invitation to sit with him? Was he interested in you romantically? No, Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda isn’t romantically interested in anyone. Not you, the bartender, or the loud female operator he seems to keep around. He’s just being friendly, trying to get you to loosen up a bit around a larger group of coworkers. You talked yourself down from that, he likes you romantically, tower. A thought process you are quite used to using for any and everything that came your way. 
It had been a minute, you finished the drink that he bought you and you still sat in the same spot. Your hand twirled the glass on its bottom edge in circles, the ice clanking on the sides of the glass. You noticed the stool next you turning in and in came a lady. Placing both her hands on the bartop flat before the tender appeared asking for her order. 
“I’ll have whatever she’s having!” 
A small finger pointing to you and the glass you had, Your eyes flickered to her and then back to the bartender, before the lady spoke again. 
“And another for her, On that tall military man's tab please.” 
The tender left and you smiled, the lady next to you laced her fingers together before speaking again. 
“You’re (Y/N), the new defender?” 
She asked, You nodded, smiling at her. You finally looked over at her. She doesn’t look like a defender, or anyone in a rainbow at that, but you know her from your first debriefing, she’s like Redhammer’s medic, also that loud lady that Kapkan keeps around for some odd reason. 
“Yeah that’s me, Guess you can't quite get away from the new title.”
She laughed, nodding slightly in the process.
“Yeah, kinda but you’ve made quite the impression with Kapkan so you think it might be a good thing.” 
“Have I now?” 
Your interest was piqued. An impression with Kapkan, a good one at that. 
“Yeah, this last mission he basically said you saved his ass. Or maybe he's lying and just trying to get you to notice him.” 
You watched as she picked up her glass and took a sip from it. Her face contorted right after. 
“Ewww, how the hell do y'all drink this.” 
You laughed, taking a sip from your glass.You guess Kapkan’s taste in alcohol isn't for everyone. Your eyes wandered to where he was sitting, and he wasn't there. An empty space on the wall next to Sledge. Your eyes cut back over to your company. A smile plastered on her face as she looked kinda past you. 
“Well look who it is.” 
You turned in your stool, it swiveled around for you to see the topic of your conversation, Kapkan. A grin plastered on his face. He stood between you and your new friend. A large hand coming up to rest on the conjunction between her neck and shoulder. 
“What did I say about getting in my business, сестра?” 
He said, shaking her back and forth in her seat. Your eyes flickering from him to her and back to him as they interacted. His use of ‘сестра’ caught your interest, you know your basics on a few languages and this just so happened to be one of the things you knew. He just called the lady in front of you sister. You almost signed out loud realizing that she was in fact not in the way of your attempts, future attempts, to get with him. Now the only question was are they really brother and sister. She looks nothing like him, and he looks nothing like her. You just smiled when you realized they were now looking at you. 
“Did you even introduce yourself?” 
His tone was friendly and almost banterish. She rolled her eyes before speaking. 
“I didn’t but I’m Star, and you know this is Kapkan.” 
You smiled at her. 
“You know my Callsign, but you can call me (Y/N) for right now.”
“For right now!” 
He let out a chuckle, his free hand coming up to point at your glass in your hand.
“How'd you like the drink, Олененок?” 
You smiled, holding up your glass as you spoke. 
“It's different, not what I normally go for.” 
You noticed the funny look on Star's face. Her eyes looking up at him and then going to linger on you for a bit more. 
“You bought her a drink? AND just,” 
He cut her off, and reached for the glass she wasn’t drinking from. 
“You put this on my tab and you're not going to drink it, what a waste, сестра.” 
He practically gulped down the drink in one go, but you guess since it was his money it's a waste in his eyes. Star took this time to speak to you, leaning in and blocking her lips from his view. 
“He doesn’t buy drinks for anyone.” 
She paused, looking back at him before continuing. 
“I think he likes you.” 
You just smiled, shaking your head in disbelief as you let out a low laugh. Kapkan had taken the last gulp of the drink, placing the glass on the bar top before pulling the woman up from her seat. 
“Don’t you have business elsewhere, сестра? Go find your puppy.” 
She sighed, slapping her hand on his thick arm. He grinned and let out that bass rumbling laugh. She mumbled something about not calling him that before walking away. You were left alone with the man. He called the bartender, the smaller lady happy and bubbly with him unlike how she was with you. He ordered something and glanced over at your cup, it was half gone but he’s putting his own cutoff on you. His drink came, it was quite between you two for a minute. You decided to speak. Opening your mouth and saying something at the same time as him. His pale orbs looking down at you before his hand ushered for you to speak first. He had manners. 
“I heard you’ve been speaking highly of me.” 
You thought about it, it sounded cocky saying out loud. Almost like you knew he would do it and you didn’t like it. You are not arrogant and that's the last thing you’d wanna be known for. 
“That sounds bad, I didn’t mean it like that at all.” 
He smirked at you, light orbs still taking in your normal form in front of him. 
“Of course, without you, we wouldn’t be celebrating no casualties, Олененок.” 
“Yes, but it was simply my gadget doing its work.” 
“How is your gadget, did you and Tina work on it?” 
“Yes actually!” 
You practically lit up after he asked, he noticed the difference between your new one and old one. You then went on to explain the mechanics of it, telling him about how you improved it with Tina’s help. He also spoke about Tina helping him with improving and testing his own gadget. Your conversation went on for far longer than you thought it had. His small input was enough and his response here and there kept it going. He didn’t seem to have a problem with you talking a bit more than normal and he sure didn’t mind your presence. 
You didn’t catch the time until it was already hitting closing time, the bartender coming to close his tab and then the rest of the operators saying they were splitting to another bar or going home. You both stood up, leaving the building and into the cool air. You stood there waiting for your cab to come. He insisted he’d stay until your cab arrived even though you made it clear he didn’t have too. The silence between you too was comforting, a calm after a storm, which in this case was the bar and a lot of talking. It wasn’t until the headlights of the cab appearing down the road prompted him to speak. 
“We should drink together more often. Preferably not for a celebration, just the two of us.” 
You looked over at him, hands in his jean pockets as he looked down at you, a smirk present on his face. You smiled nodding.
“Yes, maybe even dinner? Just the two of us of course.” 
You smiled, letting out a little laugh afterwards. He let out his chuckle as well. 
“Of course, Олененок.” 
You cab pulled up next to you and he opened the door for you, watching as you slid into the back and looked up at him. 
“You can call me Maxim, Олененок” 
He said, leaning down into the back while speaking, a hand resting on the roof of the cab and the door. 
“Okay,”
You paused, watching his eyes. He started to close the door but you stopped him. 
“What does that mean, The name you keep calling me?” 
He smirked, laughing a bit before speaking. 
“You’ll find out one day, Олененок” 
He spoke and closed the cab door. 
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rul-am-i · 11 months
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Dokkaebi!! (The Elite Skin)
---My Fan Art
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cultofthewyrm · 11 months
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by BlurSquidArt
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onehornedbeast · 1 year
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Feel free to state why in the tags if you want to
Personally for myself I would join Redhammer cause KABOOM GANG
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dizzydove · 3 months
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Stargazing. (There isn't enough Mav/Ace art)
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
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Holiday SAS Headcanons
You guys seem to enjoy these, and I'm enjoying writing them! These are gifts that I think the members of SAS would get their SO and how they would treat their SO in cold weather (warming them up, what food they'd make them, e.t.c.)
Mute - Mute would surprise you with a thoughtful gift...days before Christmas. He wouldn't admit it was because he was impatient and excited to see what you thought of it. He would also be the last one to want to help decorate. He enjoys the holidays, but doesn't really have the ambition to spend time hanging lights and whatnot. He might help you put ornaments on the tree if you give him the puppy dog look that melts his heart every time. If you begged him, he would be inclined to go to your best friend's ugly Christmas sweater party. As long as he puts a smile on your face, he's down for anything at the end of the day.
When it's cold out, Mute will love spending time curled up watching TV with you. As a bit of a history buff, he would enjoy seeing some of the local sights while covered in snow. Surprisingly he is oddly really good at making snowpeople, and you don't judge him for the five he built in the yard after a big snow storm. He even puts little scarves and hats on them.
Smoke - He is always going to make sure you are spoiled. He's the kind of guy to give you love coupons for Christmas and actually follow through with the items on said coupons, particularly the ones that are hands on. He would love to see you and his daughter getting along on Christmas morning, and the look on both of your faces when he surprises you both with your very thoughtful gifts. He also has a cookie recipe that honestly yields the best cookies you've ever tasted, and would love nothing more than for you to decorate them with him.
He really likes going to do things as a family with the two of you. It doesn't matter if it's ice skating, sledding, or just walking downtown and sipping hot cocoa. Of course he would be down for some really cozy cuddling on the couch. His favorite pass time would be silently laying on the couch with your head on his chest while you admire the tree you decorated all together. He wouldn't even complain in the morning when he woke up and his back hurt because you both fell asleep on the couch.
Sledge - Sledge is going to lose his mind trying to figure out what to get you. He would be stressing last minute because his mother will have him second guessing every gift he bought you, despite deep down him knowing that he got you something you will probably like. He prefers Christmas morning to be just the two of you, but will be happy to visit respective families after your personal festivities are done. He's also the type to propose on Christmas morning. You could literally buy him anything and he would be thrilled.
Sledge really likes shoveling, for no good reason other than it's good exercise, and he loves his shovel. He refuses to buy a snowblower even when you tell him he should. He made his own shovel, it looks oddly familiar...Caber 2.0? He will also insist on snowball fighting with you outside after every snow storm, and then he will make it a full time job to warm you up when you lose and your body is nearly frozen and drowned under snowballs that he pelted you with.
Thatcher - He knows how to spoil his SO to the moon and back. Whatever you like, there will be lots of it under the tree. He will also remember one jewelry store you said you liked four years ago and he will continue buying you a new piece of jewelry from that store for every occasion, even if you don't care for the store anymore. You just don' t have the heart to tell him to stop when you see how happy he is to give you the gift. He actually, surprisingly, has a thing for Christmas crafts. He will enjoy working on them together and using them to decorate rather than going to the store to buy decorations.
Thatcher won't admit it, but he loves peppermint hot cocoa and you smirk when you see empty cups in the trash can from his little secret. He will make sure your car is always cleaned off and that there's always a fire in the fireplace on exceptionally cold evenings. While not particularly fond of tech, he secretly appreciates the smart home thermostat so that he doesn't have to get off the couch and stop cuddling with you in order to turn up the heat. Really big fan of classic Christmas movies.
Who should I do next? Christmas is right around the corner and I may not have time to do more beforehand, so maybe we can look at New Year's, or who cares, Christmas headcanons are fine with me any time of year honestly.
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jollybone · 2 years
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I'm a Kapkan main and this happens to me all the time. 😔 RIP all my EDDs that got destroyed by a Kiba Barrier 
click for better quality
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n3ssier · 1 year
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HELLO im bacc >;)))
So I keep lookin at your introduction post and fsr I CANT DECIDE WHAT TO PICK- I just wanted to ask like, can ya write a headcanon, but it has both Crypto from Apex and Ppl from r6? Im so super grateful that you didnt mind the emount of characters I requested last time 😭😭 i hope its bot a burden if I request again cause i kinda simp for all of the. 💀
You can just tell me if u dont wanna do this, or just scratch sum characters if its too many :)))))
Can you pleease write a ff (or headcanons, ehatevs ya wnat) where female reader LOVES hugs and is a generally super chill yet chirpy friend and as soon as she gets recruited, she becomes all friendly and tries to befriedn them and after like 1st day of meeting, she alredy sees them as her bestfriend and hugs them from behind as a goodmorning the next day-
Chars: Crypto, Echo, Vigil, Kapkan, Glaz, Jäger (Ik its all the same characters but I cant help my simping, also as i said you can not include whoever you want)
Ik its confusing and as I said before, you aint gotta write this at all💀🤚
ALSO- MOOTS? Saw that you needed friends so we can be bfs >:DD
SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG :( ive had a lot going on and ive also got a job now so i have been short on time but finally got round to writing again!! i hope ya dont mind me doing some hcs and also only doing 4 out of 6 sexy men, bc i worry that if i do fanfics with them all then this will be a v long post bc ill get lowkey carried away😞 (also bc im feeling lazy rn, out here getting up 4am sleeping 12pm😭best lifestyle)
crypto
∙you two first meet on your second day on the job, and he is taken aback by how talkative you are (not in a bad way tho dwdw :)
∙the other legends don’t rlly talk to him outside of the gunfights/workplace so he just doesn’t talk to them either, which is why he was so surprised when you came up to him and tried to befriend him as soon as you’d met him
∙the pride he feels when you start asking about his gadgets goes unmatched, he tries to explain them as easily as possible but gets carried away quickly, leaving you a confused mess and him an embarrassed one as he realises how distracted he got
∙the next morning he’s making breakfast in the break room when he feels you hug him from behind, and he honestly is so tempted to put his hands on yours and stay there but he wants to play it off cool ofc so he just greets you and continues preparing his food
∙this is the EXACT moment he fell for ya
glaz
∙he never expected you to be so talkative or cheery when you joined, but he was happy nonetheless
∙will intently listen to you while smiling and give you facts if he knows any on whatever you’re talking about
∙you guys end up talking for like 3 hours just about anything, he’s kinda curious about you, and ends up asking you a bit about your life in general 
∙would make a lot of effort to help and teach you things, seen as you’re new to r6
∙when you come up to him and hug him as a good morning he chuckles before turning around to hug you back quickly and loosely
∙he could get used to this tho
kapkan
∙ngl he is annoyed at first when you talk to him for the first time, he finds the chat pointless, but after an hour or so he lets his guard down
∙he never realised that chatting with people was so fun until this day, or maybe it was just something about you specifically that gave him the good time, who knows !?
∙he honestly thinks ur pretty cute talking about all the random topics that peak your interest, asking him about 1000 questions aswell
∙when he feels your arms around him the next morning he freaks out
∙tries to push you off, as much as he enjoys it sadly he is too flustered and also not used to physical contact
∙he slowly stops pushing you away the more you come up to him and the more you are hanging round with him
jäger
∙when he first meets you he thinks you’re cool asf, especially when you strike a conversation with him
∙similar to crypto, he feels so much pride when you ask about his gadgets, its like a huge ego boost
∙you guys are sooooo chatty, talking about anything and everything, but make the cutest duo
∙you listen to his rambling and he will listen intently to you back
∙there is NEVER a dull moment between you two😭
∙the other gsg9 members are just happy that he has got someone to listen to him so that they don’t have to LMAO
∙when he feels you hug him from behind the next morning he is a little bit confused but happily hugs you back in return, he definitely thinks about it for the rest of the day tho
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vanade · 2 years
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listen I don’t play siege but I saw that new Lion skin earlier today and goddamn this man is SO GOOD LOOKING I had to go paint him real quick
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chadillacboseman · 22 days
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Sniper's Nest II
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Pairing: Timur "Glaz" Glazkov x Enemy Combatant/Sniper F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of combat/violence, angst, enemies to lovers eventually, but no real pairing in this chapter. Explicit language. Summary: Glaz finally gets the upper hand on the sniper who's had him pinned down. Reader is GN at the moment, no descriptions of build, gender, or race (though reader is mentioned to have a 'pallor' about them from bloodloss.
Word Count: 2.5k
PART ONE
--
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The shot hurtled through the hole in the brick and connected with your shoulder. You cried out and dropped to the floor, letting your rifle drop alongside you with a clatter.
"Son of a bitch-" the bullet had gone right through you; blood was blooming onto your fatigues as you scrambled for your med-kit and jammed a length of gauze into the hole with a hiss.
You sat up and edged your way backward, dragging your rifle along with you until you were hidden behind a cabinet.
The bastard had finally wised up. His muzzle flare had come from one floor below and far back into the room.
Fuck.
It just had to be your trigger arm.
You gritted your teeth as you shoved the gauze further into the bullet hole until the blood flow stopped. You needed to get out of there and fast before the other sniper figured out how badly he had injured you.
You reached for your discarded binoculars and peered around the filing cabinet carefully. You activated the night vision and scanned the room one floor below where the soldier had been before.
He was gone.
You let your head loll back against the cold metal and sighed before tossing your binoculars back into your bag. You'd have to wait through the day and into the next nightfall before moving out.
--
Timur peered through his scope and watched for any sign of movement across the street.
Nothing.
He had retreated to the kitchen area of his new post and bunkered down to try and sleep- he hadn't rested in what felt like days, waiting for the other sniper to make a move. The sun was beginning to paint the faded wallpaper in the apartment in a bloody orange glow and he knew dawn was rapidly approaching.
Timur clutched his mangled hand to his chest and winced as he examined the bloodied bandages. He couldn't even be sure he had hit the other sniper- he had taken a wild potshot on a gamble after seeing the scope flare.
His eyes were so heavy.
"Only for a minute-" he mumbled to himself. He set the timer on his watch and closed his eyes, "Only...a minute."
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You changed out the bloodied gauze in your wound and swallowed a half tab of hydrocodone from your trauma pack. The wound ached, spreading a dull pain down your arm and into your chest.
It was now or never.
Your radio had been dead air since day two, and you were betting the other sniper's was as well. You paused to count the windows across the street once more and jotted the floor and number onto the back of your hand.
--
Across the street, Timur twitched in his sleep as the alarm on his watch beeped faintly, jammed under the rucksack in his lap.
For so long, he had been without sleep, that when it finally overtook him, it was deep and uninterrupted.
You sprinted across the street through the darkness, recounting the windows again and again.
If he saw you...
Outside the door to the apartment, you slunk, catlike, and tried the handle. It was unlocked. It seemed too easy- surely he wouldn't have let his guard down this thoroughly.
You turned the handle as quietly as you could and pressed the door open into the pitch black apartment. Your arm throbbed, the dull ache surging down into your fingers that were slowly becoming pins and needles as the hours ticked by.
You flipped your night-vision goggles down over your eyes and with a high-pitched whine they came to life, illuminating the room in green light. To your disbelief, the other sniper was fast asleep, his injured hand pulled close to his chest and his rifle at least three feet away.
You were his enemy, but you weren't a monster- killing him now would be like shooting a man dangling from a parachute. You unsheathed your knife and crept slowly toward him, silent as a predator on the hunt.
If you woke him up and he was quick on his feet, you'd be at a disadvantage- your dominant arm was beginning to feel like a leaden weight, and every movement was agony.
You hovered over him for a moment, still in awe of his ability to sleep so soundly. Cautiously, you tapped his thigh with your boot and he grunted, his face twitching. He muttered something in Russian and you rolled your eyes.
"Wake up," you said it loudly enough that he jolted awake and rolled away from you, scrambling for his sidearm. You were faster, more well-rested, and kicked it from his hand before he had a chance to train the sights on you.
He swore in Russian and reached for his knife, shuffling quickly to put some distance between the two of you. A bright glow stick flared to life in his hands and he tossed it to the floor to illuminate the space.
"Why did you wake me?" he spoke with a heavy Russian accent; his eyes wandered to your bloodied arm and you thought you saw the ghost of a satisfied smirk flit across his features.
"Should I have cut your throat while you slept?"
"Thought that was what your people did," he spat.
"I'm not a savage."
"The Masks aren't known for their mercy," the other soldier began to circle and you did the same, each of you poised to leap if the other made a move.
"Then be glad that rumor isn't true of me," your arm was now entirely numb from the elbow down, and it felt cold and limp as it dangled at your side.
Timur was smart, he knew you weren't in fighting condition- your arm hung like a leaden weight, and your face had a pallor that suggested significant blood loss.
Perhaps this was more like two men dangling from parachutes, knives brandished.
"You're in no shape to fight" Timur gestured at your wounded arm.
Your gaze narrowed, trying to read his expression through his dark eyes, all that peeked out from above his balaclava. The grease paint around them had been smudged in some places and completely wiped off in others.
He had a kind face.
"I'll make you a deal, Russkie," you lowered your blade and he followed suit hesitantly, "we go our separate ways right now. I don't shoot if you don't."
"Will you stab me instead?" Timur asked and you laughed bitterly, nodding to your bloodied fatigues.
"Wouldn't be very effective if I did."
You backed away slowly and he watched you with caution, eyes darting furtively between you and the door.
"Wait-" he cleared his throat awkwardly and you paused, cocking your head to hear what he had to say, "do you have any water?"
"What?"
"...water," he repeated rather stupidly, "mine is gone."
You contemplated for a moment. Your canteen was still half full, but your first aid kit was depleted.
"I do. What's left in your trauma pack?"
Timur turned to fish through his rucksack and pulled a hard metal case from inside. He hadn't even dressed his own wound properly.
But he was so fucking thirsty.
"Couple of rolls of gauze, antibiotics -"
"Antibiotics!" You cut him off a little too eagerly, but you didn't care. Shame wasn't going to kill you, but gangrene would.
Cautiously, he slid the case toward you across the wooden floor, and in exchange, you rolled the canteen in his direction. You knelt and rifled through the contents until you landed on the bottle labeled 'moxifloxacin, 400mg'.
You swallowed a tablet dry and rocked back on your heels as you watched him guzzle the water as if he'd been without for some time.
"What's your name?" He asked when he'd exhausted the water supply.
You told him and he repeated it back, once, twice, and then a third time, his thick accent sometimes stumbling over he consonants.
When he was satisfied with his own pronunciation, he offered you his own, "Timur. But they call me 'Glaz' at Rainbow."
The two of you sat in silence for a moment before you spoke again.
"Quite the move you pulled on me, moving units," you nodded to the gaping hole in the exterior wall, "I would have never guessed."
Timur chuckled and gestured to his shredded hand, "How did you do the curtain trick?"
"Some shitty old war movie I watched as a kid, never thought I'd get it to work. Guessing you saw my scope flare?"
He nodded and fell back into a seated position, letting his back rest against the dilapidated fridge, "You're a good shot. You could have had me plenty of times."
"I was having fun," you admitted, suddenly feeling a wave of white hot shame as it zippered down your torso.
"I could tell," Timur didn't sound judgemental, "had you been as reckless as I was, I might have done the same."
There was a pregnant pause as you contemplated whether to depart and return to your own post.
"Has your radio been dead air?" You weren't sure he'd answer truthfully- after all, you'd effectively just revealed that yours had been.
"Since day two."
"Maybe they think we're dead," you offered, and he shrugged.
"Maybe."
"We'll survive a lot longer if we pool our resources," you gestured through the hole in the exterior wall to your post across the street, "I've got more supplies."
"What you're suggesting would have me strung up at Rainbow," Glaz cocked an eyebrow, "and I don't think the White Masks would approve."
"I don't think they're coming for us, friend," you tapped your watch, "by my count, my people moved out over 32 hours ago."
"Quick to call me friend," Timur mused. His eyes were soft as he said it.
"As far as I'm concerned, we're two comrades in a foxhole right now, but it's your loss."
You rose to your feet and retrieved the antibiotics, from the floor, offering him one final glance. He watched you, his still-soft eyes following your every move as you made for the door.
"Have any vodka over there?" Timur asked before you hit the threshold, only half-joking. He could use a swig, or twenty, to ease the pain and take the edge off.
You paused in the doorway and offered him a Cheshire grin.
"No, but the previous tenants did."
--
The streets below were, indeed, deserted, as Timur prowled beside you, eyes flitting from window to window as if expecting an ambush.
"I was the only one posted, so you can relax," you offered.
He said nothing in return.
An uneasy alliance, tiptoeing on the high wire of a promise of cheap vodka in some long-abandoned liquor cabinet. Truly, even the old war movies couldn't dream up something like this.
Your post was in better shape than his had been; the lathe and plaster was mostly intact, but there was a gaping hole in the floor that you could view the apartment below from while in the kitchen.
It was how you'd tricked him with the moving curtain. You showed him the rope rigged up and he chuckled, amused at the simplicity that had almost cost him his life.
The liquor cabinet was in the dining room, a faded old wooden hutch covered in a thick layer of dust. Timur rummaged through it, clinking bottles aside until a small 'aha!' escaped him and he retrieved a bottle bearing an image of the Kremlin and Cyrillic text.
"Good stuff?" You asked and he scoffed.
"No, it's dogshit, but it tastes like home."
"Fair enough," you gestured at the cabinet, "Any tequila in there?"
He rummaged for a moment until he produced a bottle of Patrón; the cork was rotted and the bottle was covered in dust, but it was probably the most expensive thing in there.
Timur passed you the bottle and you uncorked it, cringing at the sharp smell that greeted your nostrils.
"Cheers, comrade," you imitated his Russian accent and he chuckled as he matched your swig with a grimace.
"There it is. Tastes like turnips filtered through misery," Timur set the bottle aside and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
"How'd you end up stateside?" You asked before taking another swig.
"Rainbow," he answered simply, "recruited me from the Spetsnaz."
"Spetsnaz? Impressive."
"Not really," he sounded... remorseful? "I joined up after the Beslan Siege. Nothing motivates you like 200 dead kids."
The Beslan School Massacre. You knew of it- enough to know that it had been absolutely botched by the Russian government. It struck you that the people involved probably had similar morals to your own employers. The thought made your stomach churn.
"Your arm-" Timur gestured to your bloodied shoulder, interrupting your train of thought, "How bad is it?"
You shrugged your flak jacket off and revealed the wound. He made a face that was something between disgust and concern.
"It needs to be cleaned properly. Stitched."
You gestured rather awkwardly with your non-dominant hand and he rose to his feet. He rummaged first through his own trauma kit, then yours, until he had collected what he needed.
"Sit," he pointed to the dilapidated armchair on the far side of the room and you acquiesced, slumping into it and sending a small cloud of dust skyward.
Timur pulled his balaclava down under his chin to work and you took in his features in earnest for the first time. He had a sharp, angled nose that sat over stubble that had grown out over the days he'd been holed up in the apartment. His brows were full, set low over his eyes that shone against the dark grease paint smudged around them.
A sharp prick in your skin snatched you away from your analysis as the hooked suture needle pushed into the flesh around the bullet hole.
"Can't believe I hit you," Timur mused.
"I can't believe how heavily you sleep."
He shot you a look and you smirked until the next pass of the needle made you grimace.
You softened your approach.
"How long had it been? Since you slept?"
"Four days."
"I'm sorry," you offered. You weren't sure what else to say.
"Why didn't you kill me back at the apartment? Why wake me?" Timur's voice was level, but there was something hidden behind it, threatening to jump out if he spoke further.
"Why kill a sleeping man? You couldn't defend yourself."
He glanced up into your eyes and you were taken aback by how blue his were. When he spoke, genuine emotion was woven into his voice.
"Thank you."
Timur finished stitching your wound and hit it with a wash of iodine before placing a bandage over the sutures. His knots were irregular, but held firmly when you flexed the muscle.
"Sorry, they're not perfect," he gestured to the now bandaged site, "I only know how to sew."
You chuckled at the thought of him, clothed in his fatigues, hunched over a sewing machine with a rifle at his side.
Exhaustion began to seep in around the corners of your brain as you slumped back into the chair. Your eyelids felt as if they were weighted with lead, and even the gentle throb of your arm couldn't keep you from closing them.
"Sleep," Timur patted your knee gently as he sat back to observe you, "We will figure this out when the sun rises."
So you did.
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Red Hammer Portraits
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