It's Just... Hesh And Logan Being Brought Up In Religion And Hesh Relying Heavily On It While Logan Is

its my b-day!! the best present for an artist is a repost ;)

obligatory doodle

How am I supposed to focus on fighting a war when this guy has titties out and all in my face

Hes my little princess tho so all is forgiven

what’s in a name?

alluded to it in my last adlerbell rot post but i have such a complex over adler naming bell and i find it difficult to put into words. so here’s a very lengthy attempt:

most of the symbolism behind bell’s name is obvious and doesn’t need much stating: it’s indicative of adler’s ownership of bell, literally naming them like a pet, his property. obvious also that a bell was used in their conditioning; as well as a reference to the study of classical conditioning itself by pavlov, who similarly used a bell to condition behavioural responses in the test subject: a dog (hence the myriad dog imagery/symbolism in adlerbell fics… it’s like crack to me)

but the obvious aside it always hits me deepest as part of the “it wasn’t personal” narrative. it’s insanely personal- it’s intimate. i think i put adlerbell on a little bit of a pedestal to view everything about them through a vaguely romanticised lens, but to me it really is- in the most horrifically tragic and sickening way- romantic.

like, you’re bell, right? you trust this man, bell. he is your friend. you witnessed some of the worst atrocities of mankind and survived hell with him and he is your friend. he calls your name through the smoke and gunfire, as a bullet zips past your ear you hear it amidst the splitting of shrapnel, the tearing of screams silenced for but a moment. each time he extends his arm to pick you up, he calls you, bell. every time he directs you to a point of interest, he beckons you, bell. when he nudges you out of your cot in camp haskins, it’s your name he laughs, bell. when he praises you, and smiles at you in that wry, almost boyish way, and tells you how good of a job you’ve done, how we couldn’t have done it without you, how they should be thanking you- it’s your name, bookended, every time, a fondness notched into the welding that stamps you both together inseparably. bell. every single association you have to your name is whenever he pulls you close, helps you, praises you, saves you. your name alone a positive association- to the respect and affection he has for you. bell.

and it’s to the point. adler says their name at any given moment he can. he says it so often it’s infuriating. like deadass take a shot every time. it’s practically a trope in any fic featuring the two, that he utters their name every other line of dialogue. it’s the first thing he says to them at the start of the game- walking into the safehouse at west berlin- not a word, but their name. sure, obviously isn’t the first time he’s spoken to bell, knowing what came before- but it’s presumably bell’s first time walking around freely since mk ultra. that coupled with the trigger phrase must make for a very pliant response- when he says their name, it’s the same man, as far as bell knows, who fought with them back to back in vietnam. something thicker even than blood.

and i reckon adler likes it. mk ultra was a joint effort but bell’s past is based on his choosing, his memories. by no means did he have to pick their name, but he did. he chose to name the thing he’s helped create. it’s almost sick that the ‘closeness’ bell feels towards adler is really only partially synthetic- over a span of months adler really was there, every day, talking for hours and conditioning them over and over and over again. of course he’d name them. something something don’t name an animal you don’t want to get attached to. but it’s his animal. it’s his dog. they’re his bell.

and there’s something just so sickening and so adler that he could have named them anything else in the world- maybe something inconspicuous and plain, like john or jane; something sweet, something that reminds him of someone else, a song he likes, a nickname, an insult, or even something downright cruel. but i don’t think anything could be more cruel and tragically appropriate than calling them by the name of the instrument you used to condition them. to call them by the tool you used to enslave their mind. the very thing that reset their entire being to zero. a bell. not just their name- but the sound, ever ringing, in the back of their mind. the thing that echoes in the empty inside them, to remind them why it’s empty in the first place, its sole purpose to keep them chained in their loyalty to adler. bell.

like i said, i do really think adler likes it. for whatever reason. ownership, spite, just a way to rub salt in the wound any chance he gets, a small victory only he gets to revel in, right in their face. but bell is his. bell belongs to him. when he says their name, it’s the one he chose. time and patience came alongside that bell that rang perpetual in that lab. he’s said that name as many times as he rang it. maybe a part of adler’s as attached to that instrument as much as he is the person he named after it. i’m sure adler hears it chiming in the recesses of his own mind more than he’d care to admit. he’d been around to hear it as long as bell has, hadn’t he? maybe part of him has grown conditioned in his attachment to that instrument too.

but there must be a semblance of pride when he says it. really, to be able to beckon your dog by the name you chose for it. i wonder if a swell of maddened joy tugs at his blackened heart whenever he sees bell’s head perk up at the sound of their name, the one he chose, as implicit and unthinking, automatic, as though it truly were their own. since birth.

and like it couldn’t be enough that he took everything from them. and most importantly that he took them away from perseus- that he stole perseus’ most precious comrade right out from under him, and turned them to an unflinching loyal pup for himself. this isn’t about you, this isn’t about me, this is about millions of other fucking people. is it? when you croon and tut their name between every sentence, are you sure you don’t just like the satisfaction of saying it, knowing how deeply it disarms them? knowing how they are wholly yours, to their very core? to the name they introduce themselves as? to the one they flinch and come running whenever you say it?

ugh. it’s just- a name is so integral to one’s identity. it shapes their life. their personhood. and he didn’t just erase theirs, but he gave them a new one and made sure they’d like it. a conditioned response of pleasure whenever he’d say it. isn’t that intimate?

he took everything. every single shred of who they were. that not even their name is their own. that even their name, their name, belongs entirely to him.

this didn’t make sense, i wrote this mostly for myself, congrats if u read this far. i just wanted to have every single thought and feeling i had about it jotted in one place and file it away ajshsjksjsjsjs

We know from Sims that everyone in the safehouse gets their paychecks through Adler. But does this include Bell? After all, Bell isn't really a team member, he just thinks he is. Was Bell collecting a real paycheck or were Park and Adler paying him in Monopoly money?

Did Park and Adler go up to their supervisors and be like "Yeah we need a bunch of money so we can pay a fake wage to our brainwashed Soviet operative so he doesn't suspect anything wrong" and the CIA just had to accept this? In the CIA's archives somewhere is there a budget allocation for the cost of paying Bell a pretend Salary? Did they collect all the money back after killing Bell?

If they gave Bell real money how freely was Bell able to spend it or did Adler say something like "I'm going to hold your paycheck for you Bell" and Bell just had to accept it because Adler is his friend and his boss and would never do him wrong? Was Bell paid the same amount as everyone else or was he given a pittance? Did Bell ever suspect anything was off? There are so many questions left unanswered here

Ok. I said gaz is cunty. He helps the 141 with sending hate messages.

(This post btw!)

BUT. So is ghost. Oh my god he’s so sassy bro,

Soap:“Was worried his face would melt off like all those other bastards”

Ghost:“Would be an improvement.”

—

Ghost: “English, mactavish.”

—

(The sass, and to his captain too 😭😭)

But like I said, he’s a dry texter; in person, that’s where he shines. (Or over the phone/ coms )

it does NOT matter who your are. You WILL be sassed if that’s what ghosts deemed you deserve, and unlike gaz, who will just ignore you in person (cold shoulder) with ghost? ghost, oh god he’s just so blunt.

And so he dose the talking for the 141 when they’re in beef with someone.

Price, godbless him. Is a man of action, he’ll give you a brief warning, and that’s it. And his insult game isn’t that good, I think although he’s smart. He’s not particularly Witty, for example when gaz says.

“appears you can do maths sir”

“Getting cheeky are we?” (No comeback.)

Gaz, like I said, silence. Cold shoulder, dirty looks that will put teenage girls to SHAME. But he won’t go past that, infact. He won’t talk to you at all. Will just flat out ignore you. And stare, untill you get uncomfortable and leave. And he will not accept apologies untill he personally is ready to (holds grudges like a BITCH) so he doesn’t shit talk to people he doesn’t like

And soap like I said will solve problems with his fists and cursing we see this with makarov when he nearly killed him in the flash back. (MW3)And when ghost pissed him off he replied with “away an’ bile yer heid”- cursing and blinding (MW2) do I think he’d get flustered while shit talking and just curse and attack If thier close enough. (Also he’s very easy to humbled)

Soap: “the fuck you think your doing?”

Graves;I’m up to doing my fucking job kid, maybe you should do the same (CLOCKED HIM)

So ghost tales charge in shit talking. Or just talking to hostilities in person (gaz dose over text) and he’s very good it at LMAO

HELLO??? OP, WHAT WERE YOU ON WHEN WRITING THIS??? I LOVE IT

park, paired with bell! reader. this is based off an anonymous ask i received this month who just wanted a short drabble of this. this is meant to be with a female reader but i feel like i left it neutral enough anyone can read it. adler with reader is there too if you squint.

you hated adler for what he did to you.

he wore you down, molded you from inner thigh to neck; ankle to wrist; knuckle to knee. your life before him might’ve as well been nonexistent, just constant blurs and the struggle to recall your own mother’s face. he stole years, months, and days from you.

hang your head, knees to your chest as you nearly gave out on the world's seemingly shittiest couch or gurney in berlin, every touch and sound a million miles away. your body's newfound love for benzos left you weak and shivering, even with the heater on. followed by painful stomach aches and hallucinations of adler's hand on your cheek or nape of your neck. cigarette smoke from park became a pleasant sensation, keeping her keen eye on you and pressing soft fingers to your pulse every few minutes before she would continue examining whatever was in the boringly beige manila folder. you'd wish someone would ask how you're feeling, just so you could beg for them for something. you were unsure of what you wanted exactly; maybe to o.d. the next time they shoved a needle full of god knows what into your blossoming bruised arm? more of park's hands on you? more of adler's?

"stop that." you weren't aware you were harshly digging and scratching at your arm until she had said something, which felt like more like an echoing command from god rather than a caretaker's "gentle" ask.

of course, you didn't stop because what was park even talking about? in your head, you weren't doing anything, arms crossed and hands still, knees pointing towards her in that flimsy blue gown. she'd have to hold your hand until you fell back under, not cruel enough to restrain someone who was clearly high off ketamine and whatever else mk-ultra supplied the team with to keep you in control. her hands were soft and to you, she smelled like what hybrid violas looked like.

you couldn't pinpoint it but it was grounding enough that through half-lidded eyes, you'd just trace the curves of her face. you felt the same way about park that you did adler but you were gentler in mercy towards her, wanting something more and unidentifiable from her—maybe even as much as you wanted her hands on you again, same as the day as she had to preform cpr on you, ribcage crunching under the hands you mistook for loving and careful.

Duga ending Bell with Stockholm syndrome? Of course!

Imagine time

Woods: *eating an onion*

Mason: that's fucking cannibalism....

Logan and Hesh’s largest flex is that they survived orbital bombardment not once but TWICE

Would love for Logan or Hesh to crash out and say some shit like “LOKI/ODIN couldn’t kill me, what makes you think you could?!”

Yes.

reblog if it's okay for your mutuals to message you and create an actual friendship, not just interactions