(https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSc1U81J0LzGHhBGPBMpoiB4B2iqRXlbHBO1SVwNRlxfAUsK_A/viewform?usp=sf_link for requests :3) (Guys I’m finally taking requests again rahh)

You were Lilija Vladimironva Makarova, a girl who’d just celebrated her 18th Birthday. You were the only daughter of the infamous terrorist Vladimir Makarov. You had been raised like a proper Russian woman, a patronymic middle name stating you were the daughter of Vladimir, small acts of politeness, respecting the ‘Babushka’, that and you didn’t feel like getting yelled at by an old lady for not giving up your seat. You father followed a very traditional way of life when it came to his children; he focused on you being a ‘proper’ Russian Lady, and your brother Lev being one of his soldiers. He’d focused on making you devout catholic, knowing your loyalty to your motherland, and valuing him as your father. Those were the three key focuses of a good Russian. There was a celebration following your eighteenth, and Price and his men were sent undercover to go and take you hostage for questioning and ransom. They’d kept eyes on you the entire night, they’d noted down all your features, even a loose comment about Soap on how weird it was for a girl with a father like her to be catholic, but they decided that it was finally time to strike. You’d gone off to get some fresh air, wanting some time to yourself, when you heard footsteps behind you, assuming it was your father, you didn’t turn around. The person behind spoke up, speaking perfect Russian ”you’re Lilija, right? Mind if we talk alone ma’am?” he walked up to you, you could tell that something about him didn’t look Russian, but you said nothing