#cod grim reaper au

[femoso-seben]

Pandemonium AU

Cod mw2 characters if they were Grim Reapers!

SOAP was the first to pass faced with the new(ish) modern war Death God. Soap tried to haunt 141 to 1) make sure they get Makarov and 2) scare them but that's not how Death works.

As a last-minute ditch to stay, he asked about the Grim Reaper, turns out this young Death God had no Grim Reapers and is runner-dogged.

SOAP then said he could be a Grim Reaper and he also (accidentally) sold all of 141’s soul to the Death God.

SOAP then dreamed Grim Reaper of Destruction (seems, bombs, building collapse, landmines, etc) as the Grim Reaper shroud is hung on him his memory of his human life is suppressed.

——————

GAZ dies in a collapsed building and meets Grim Reaper and immediately recognizes him. He tries to talk to him but the Grim Reaper ignores him.

GAZ stared at the Death God in annoyance as he was told his fate to become one of its Grim Reaper.

“Why?”

“Oh, your friend sold your soul to me.”

And boom!

2nd Grim Reaper!

GAZ then becomes the Grim Reaper of Equality (less literal and more symbolic) he keeps records of the newly fallen

——————

PRICE dies from wounds taking out Makarov and is greeted by the Modern War Death God in person sitting across from him smoking a cigar (and coughing a lung out because it can't smoke to save its life!)

“Are you the Grim Reaper?”

“No, I’m your Master.”

PRICE tries to argue with the Death God to let him rest in peace.

“Nope, your buddy sold your soul to me, your mine.”

“Who?”

“Um… John MacTavish.”

PRICE folds fast after hearing that name and agrees to become the Grim Reaper of Strife (his anger in life fuels how the Death God named him) and retains some of his memories (mostly the ones attached to anger)

——————

GHOST was a victim of Makarov’s plan and was escorted by Reaper Gaz to the Death God.

GHOST 100% believes he's going to hell and was 100% preparing himself for the hellishness of hell

GHOST didn't know what to say when the Death God said he was joining its ranks.

“Why?”

“Your soul was sold to me.”

“I didn't sell my soul—”

“Your friend did.”

GHOST reluctantly agrees and the Death God names him the Grim Reaper of Compassion (Ghost is canonically a kind person… ANYWAYS he leads Children and the innocents that died in war to the other side)

GHOST kept all his memories

——————

VALERIA dies in her struggle to keep her cartel territories and faces the Dearh God boldly. She knew she was going to go to hell and tried to stall.

Death found her entertaining and knew the war on drugs would continue on and needed a reaper in that field. Death makes an offer.

VALERIA agrees and one last fuck you to Alejandro and Rodalpho throws their name in.

VALERIA becomes the Grim Reaper of Narcotics. (she follows all the infighting of cartels, Mafia, and organized crime and will cross paths this the Death God of Drugs and their Grim Reapers often)

Keeps most of her human memories (all after she decided to join the Cartel world)

——————

ALEJANDRO like the saying did die at his own hands…. Kinda. Since VALERIA is so good at her job Death God wanted him

Death didn't give him a choice and just dropped the shroud on him changing him.

ALEJANDRO becomes the Grim Reaper of Honor.

ROLDAPHO died with Alejandro a few minutes before. He accepts his face and becomes the Grim Reaper of Mercy.

ALEJANDRO and ROLDAPHO only kept memories of each other working a lot with each other giving each person some self-honor

——————

GRAVES was killed by 141 in a coupe to take him out (revenge) and the Death God already had its eyes on him.

GRAVES was easily swayed by the Death God’s cry for help since war is never-ending and it's swamped with never-ending work!

GRAVES becomes the Grim Reaper of Soldiers (his favorites are the Marines and he always congratulations fallen soldiers with a pat)

GRAVES Kept all his memories

——————

KÖNIG died blessing out protecting Civilians and he Deatj God on a pure impulse dropped a Shroud on him turning him into a Grim Reaper of Civilians

HORANGI was accidentally chosen when he pulled the shroud on top of himself and Desth God simply shrugged and named him the Grim Reaper of Accidents (for how he became a reaper, how he became a soldier, and for any other fooled tricked into joining war)

Both don't keep their memories.

——————

FARAH and ALEX died together and together they joined the Reaper team force.

FARAH became the Grim Reaper of Freedom

ALEX became the Grim Reaper of Independence

Both remember their human life

——————

When the God of Death of Modern War called a Grim Reaper meeting there was a lot of pointing and full-on confusion. It was pretty funny as both Gaz and Soap remembered who they were the moment they saw Graves.

[cod-fishing]

New chapter of my grim reaper! Ghostsoap fic is up ~ featuring the sort of angst I never usually write, but also some nice sweet moments between the two 😘 happy holidays babes

Snippet:

He tries to forget it, at first, or at the very least accept what he had been told and think no more of it. Okay, not a ghost. Fine. That doesn’t make him horribly, terribly curious, not at all. And that whole thing about not knowing his own fucking name, or not having one, that’s what he said, right? God, it makes John’s brain race in the gray spaces, those inbetweens when he has time to think about anything other than the plans for the next mission or whatever warm thing is down his sites. Helmet pressed against the window of the helo, thinking about his ghost. The moments before sleep, sprawled out on top of his sheets at the end of a mission, turning over the details that may offer some hint to his identity. In the shower, lathering over newly blooming bruises, his ghost’s eyes burning in his brain.

Like he said, the name fits. He certainly feels haunted.

[the-whispers-of-death]

reader being some big bitch in the marines (colonel, general or whatever the eqvivalent is) and taking Grim Reaper Stone under his wing but not like for insidious military purposes but because reader saw Stone and was like "ah yes... that's son right there" so Stone gets the full experience of a loving father/grandfather from reader (reader ends up helping Stone quit the military at some point because he doesn't want Stone to "waste" himself there)

In the AU where Stone is still lent to the 141 but he was in a squad called The Tigers, he does have a father figure in the U.S. Navy (a Fleet Marine Corpsman like Stone but he's a Master Chief Hospital Corpsman because he has been in the military for roughly 37 years). And he looked at Stone and went "My son now."

But I think Grim Reaper!Stone would appreciate a higher-ranking Reader taking him under their wing. He would initially be like "Why would you think I'm weak?"

He'd at first balk at you trying to help him quit the military, 'cause that's all he knows. All he knows how to be a weapon for the military, a mindless soldier they can shape into whatever they want. Why would he quit the only constant thing he knows?

But you'd teach him there's more to live for, things he had never imagined.

[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 

Then he got lonely. 

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 

— I didn’t ask for the tea. 

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 

— You’re flattering me, sir. 

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 

— If you say so. 

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself. 

— Why you work as a servant? 

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 

— I…have damage, sir. 

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 

— What is it? 

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 

— Doin’ a good job, love. 

— I hope so, sir. 

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 

— You don’t smell me, then? 

— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 

[evieelyzabethh]

Can I request modern au viktor dating headcanons (perhaps streamer au where viktor is dating streamer reader) 👉👈

streamerau!Viktor whose girlfriend starts out as a relatively small creator. Your streams don't get a lot of reach, but it's never bothered you much anyway. You did it more for the passion of gaming rather than making serious money off it. Your set up had been customized and built prior to the idea of even getting a twitch account, you already had countless hours logged into your Minecraft and Sims 4 worlds, as well as having a pretty lengthy collection of games all on your own

streamerau!Viktor who is the reason you even start. One day, he jokingly teased that with how many hours and how much money you had put into your hobby, you might as well try and make some money off it. He's very aware of what it takes to go viral, a pretty face, and you have the prettiest one he's ever seen. He is also quite confident in your skills to go viral. You have the personality, you have the skills, you have the knowledge. He's not even a gamer himself and he still enjoys watching you play and hearing all the interesting fun facts and history that you know about.

streamerau!Viktor who is such a visual opposite to his girlfriend. Part of the differences are played up for the camera, the comically pink and purple set up, the light-up headphones, even the type of content you create, spending less time in COD lobbies and more on cheap cozy games on Steam. He hardly ever steps into your recording office, fearing his tall, lanky, and dark demeanor may come off as some creepy ghost in the corner of your pastel-led room.

This isn't to say you only play those games, but that is simply what gets the views and is the least hostile space. When you do venture out of the typical cozy game aesthetic, it typically adventure puzzle games, like Tomb Raider or Uncharted, or maybe a story-based horror game like Mouthwashing or Until Dawn. In the very early days of your streaming adventure, you and Viktor would play vintage games from your collection, like Mario Kart or Mortal Kombat on your N64 or Sonic on your Sega Genesis. Once you start getting traction, he asks for them to be deleted. He's doesn't want his face all over the internet nor his reactions.

streamerau!Viktor who is quite aggressive when he plays games. He is the first to get loud, the first to blame the controller, the first to claim his screen was lagging and that's why he lost. He is a bit of a sore loser. He also just isn't a fan of games that don't require some sort of skill or technique. He hates luck-based games, or games that depend heavily on rng. Y'all played the first FNAF game ONCE and he lost it because Chica hung around the door so he couldn't open it to alleviate his battery usage and was incredibly pissed when he lost because of that.

streamerau!Viktor who is more into more card games (my personal headcanon is that he is a great Spades partner) but still tunes into every single one of your streams. He thinks it's funny to leave very obvious 'pro-tips' like "don't mine at night with nothing but a wood sword" or "maybe try killing the creepers" or "next time, you should do a back flip off the ledge". Though he doesn't play with you, he does get alluded to in passing, typically by Grim rather than his actual name. The nickname came from one of your Sims streams where you laughed about how much your boyfriend looked like the Grim Reaper and then everyone started calling him that until it eventually got shortened to just Grim. At some point, someone dug through the archives to try and find him. The old streams were long gone at this point, but Viktor had somehow snuck into the corner of a few videos.

Speaking of which, Shadow Man Viktor definitely became a meme on the internet after he was spotted, specifically to that one Berleezy audio (IT IS HOT AS HELL IN THIS FUNKY ASS, HOT ASS ROOM IM IN...IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER???). He doesn't find out about it until you tell him. Viktor is thoroughly not a social media guy; he often gets confused when you make internet references on the stream and asks about what they mean later. That or he quietly texts you "I'm employed, what does that mean?" He never moved over to shorter form content when Vine and TikTok got really popular, and he definitely brags about having a longer attention span because of it. He would be more annoyed with the whole ordeal if his face wasn't obscured, but you can't tell who he is by the low-quality stills. This being said, your followers anxiously await the heavily teased boyfriend reveal.

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.3

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; You’re shot and not healing, what could be worse? Everything

word count; 3.8k | chasin’ chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n: First post of 2024 what the hell writers!? 🙈

The walk to the excile point was a surprisingly smooth one, even if it felt like you were walking through hells trenches. The grim reaper himself strides beside you even though your footsteps aren’t matching his. They’re a bit… delayed, the thought that makes you want to trip. Fortunately, it’s nothing too drastic to actually make you stumble. God you hated Americans, so trigger happy with not a lick of skill behind those damn fingers. How they contributed to win some of the largest wars ever recorded was beyond you. Continuing to let your unreliable footing carry you on your marry way, You and Ghost both lead your sergeants, while they in response lead your privates to your designated location.

Soap doesn’t even blink at the weight he had lugged on his back even though it was sure to bite him in the ass when he dialed back to his normal size. The small force of everyone is on guard until the very last moment where your all loading helis. Even then the Scott noted how the Wraith and Phoenix’s shoulders did not seem to drop, even though you were being confined into a temporary security until you could return to base. You, Gaz, Ghost, Price and Himself —along with two lower rank hybrids— load into one of the two aircraft’s waiting for you while the other privates have no choice but to load on the second.

You sit next to Gaz and Soap soon takes a seat next to you gleefully accepting the opportunity, a bit confused when Price seemingly turned his eyebrow up at the arrangement. His head slightly tilted when he noticed you don’t meet the captains gaze but the bucket hat wearing man doesn’t comment on it and neither does he. The ride from that point is smooth until about an hour in your pilot experiences turbulence, and suddenly Your head is spinning, your gums are itching as if you were a toddler teething. Everything is heightened, you can hear the blades of the heilo even through the density of you headphones, your eyes are sensitive to the faintest bit of the moonlight peaking through the windshield, and your body spiked in temperature, burning hot like hell. Your attempt to take a breath was useless when the potent scent of blood hits your nostrils. So sweet yet it felt like the peach fuzz in your nostrils burned and you groaned abruptly.

“You alright Lt? You dinnae look too we-”

“Which one of you is bleeding” You interrupt the Mohawk’ed sergeant with a hiss, placing a hand over your nose and curling over your knees. Heads snap to you like a mouse in a trap and Price is up out of his seat before anyone push the weight on their knees to stand. The brunette kneels in front of you, you’re not looking at him but he can see your eyes are dilated theirs faint veins trailing under your eyes that look like they want to spur from beneath your skin. You irises are layered with a foggy film and you look so far away it could’ve broken the captains heart, but he had to be your superior before he could be your comforter and he was sure you could handle it.

“Hey, Hey! What’s goin’ on? Look at me! What’s happe-?” It happened to quick to process, in the bat of an eye the Scott would say. One moment you’re looking distant and far away in your seat and the other you have one of your privates Tank against the cold steel wall of the heilo with that certain look in your eyes. You see it a few times in his line of work.

Bloodlust,

Fangs sprout from the roots of your gums, deep dark red veins swarm under your eyes, your pupils have taken over the whites of your eyes, and you are not yourself to say the least. In quick action Gaz squawks —even though it’s more like a screech— it put you down to your knees while you hands clutch your head mouth open in a small ‘o’ with a silent scream ghosting from your lips. It throws you off for a minute, but it’s not a minute long enough. You adjust quickly and with the same speed you pinned down the raven haired private you do the same to the rich skinned Sargent, a hand wrapped around his throat effectively stopping is antagonizing screeching. You bare your fangs at him with a hiss and he nods with a groan on his lips.

“I get it Lt, n-no more screeching… you g-got it”

Before you could do anymore damage your soon the one groaning when that scent takes over your senses again. When you turn to the source in your somewhat unconscious mind your realize it wasn’t your original subject, the scent was much more… potent

“This what you want? Come ‘ere, take what you want” Ghost’s gruff voice rings over your ears as he stands tall, combat knife in his right hand his opposite palm sliced open blood dripping like water from the tap. You didn’t quite lunge at the blonde but you weren’t gentle either. It was different… you were rigid as your fangs pierced his jugular taking exactly what you wanted with a hand wrapped around the front shoulder covering of his bullet proof vest. Soon however, you’re groaning into the surface of his skin ready to pull away when your frame was restrained against the wraiths keeping you in place. Your senses are be ridden into overdrive, grunting in protest against the lieutenant struggling inevitably. Shadows slither up your body effectively keeping you still and you’re weaker than ever —it concerns the Brit to no end— effectively out like a light, dead weight pressing against the front of Ghost’s torso. that he takes willingly. The chopper is finally quiet, seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours. The captain and —conscious— lieutenant are the first to move, the skull masked soldier sits with your unconscious body in his lap. He swings your legs over his knees and holds your shoulders and in his arm supporting the weight.

Price examines your flesh, nothing alarming to the eye until he gets to the ending of your collarbone and beginning of your shoulder blade. It was barely noticeable to the eye with your all black gear a hole is punctured through your shirt —the fabric saturated with blood— just where your bulletproof vest stops.

“Gaz. Bullet wound, collarbone to shoulder area, ammo unknown, no exit.” The brunette calls out to the sergeant and he notes it immediately, going up to the pilots cavity to grab first aid coming back a practical second later. He hands his captain; gauze, scissors, forceps, tape, and medical wrap. Not nearly enough to give you a beginning of a processable recovery but, it’s something to keep you stable and sterilized. Price takes the shears cutting a big enough square in the fabric of your shirt for him to see with the shitty helo lighting. With enough gauze to clear out a cotton field the bleeding is finally stopped. What stands out the most however is your veins, different shades of black and gray spreading from the wounds up your neck and down your arm. Price curses gruffly, Ghost grunts in disdain, while Gaz catches a gasp in his throat and holds it there. Without another word and with a steady hand the dragon goes in with the tweezers fishing about for the stray bullet wearily when you twitch, ignoring how his lieutenant tightens his hold around you. Soon enough without hitting a nerve he pulls out a bullet its black resembling the color spreading abnormally through your veins.

“Never seen anything like it Cap” The brown eyed sergeant murmurs analyzing the bullet while the older brunette begins to patch you up good enough to where you aren’t bleeding out.

“Somethin�� illegal i'm pretty sure, Americans and Russians in wits with one another? Can’t be arsed to think about it” Their captain is cold, no humor in his voice to spare. Soap perks up at it having been waved away throughout the whole process of it all, ‘safety percussion’ the harpy tried to mutter to him softly even though it came off as passive and off putting the Scott got the message. With a knee bouncing in uncertainty the Scott tries his best to see through the gap of two fit frames that are practically shoulder to shoulder, begging to see anything —straining his eyes in the process— but in the end he wished he didn’t.

“Is she still breathing!? Check ‘er pulse how many beats per minute?”

“Mactavi-” The lieutenant begins with a hiss

“Those types of bullets mark hybrids for death, big ones, powerful ones, like us… like her. Wolves, dragons, sirens, cockatrice, harpies, hellhounds, cyclops, every big shot in the books. I don’t know how the ‘ell her heart hasn’t stopped”

“125 beats per minute Cap, her heart isn’t slowing it’s… going into overdrive” Gaz’s brows furrow at the words slipping from his lips as if it wasn’t his own recognition, as if he were learning it for the first time. Price curses moving towards the captain's cavity taking a hold of the mic that connected to his coms that ranged to base, speaking hardened than the brunette ever heard

“This is Bravo six, I want nurses on scene upon my arrival landing time ASAP. I have a member down… if I don’t see medical you won’t see a day of rest, private.” His voice fades out into the front of the helo with thundering steps that demand attention. Gaz kept a pointer and middle finger on your pulse point still counting the beasts as minutes pass, Soap felt short of helpfully useless, and when Ghost finally speaks up his voice is directed and sharp. Looking forward the two lower ranked hybrids one is checking over the other and they both look at him with attentive eyes

“What the hell happened in that building”

💌💌💌💌

“-nd she saved me” Your head is ringing and you can’t find it in you to peel your eyes open. The feeling of being heavily sedated yet pumped full of adrenaline at the same time, it felt so close to suffocation your body forces Itself into fight or flight. You're strapped to an average hospital bed with steel restraints, the cold metal on your hot skin not soothing you whatsoever. When your eyes peel open you eyes your vision is blurry you only make out blobbed figures until blinking a few times. A bright light is being shined in your face and you bare fangs at the person behind it.

“Stitch! Are you trying to lose a limb!? Back off!” The doctor barks at the dirty blonde nurse who flinches double, scrambling to get away from your bedside and out of her superiors way. Kyle is holding your hand at your right not caring if you’d scold him for being so worried all the time, Simon sits in a corner where he can see everything the medical team dies to you while also seeing who comes in and out of the door, John hovers reluctant with all medical staff —with that my team my concern mindset—, while Johnny stands beside Tank and Red near the door as they give the nurses their rundowns. You go to open your mouth only to be met with your vocal cords screaming at you in protest. The inability to speak makes you you groan that sounds more like a whine of a kicked puppy than anything

“I apologize, lieutenant. We believe it’s a side effect of the gunpowder in your bloodstream and we’re flushing you out as quickly as possibl-”

“Are there any updates to the status reports I requested?” You would have usually made fun of the dragons unusual impatience if you were in the comfort of his office; however you're in this cold, stale room that smells of too much bleach.

“Yes captain, the bullet is in fact meant to kill stronger hybrids. Once the hybrids are pierced with it there’s really no return for them, the gunpowder runs through the stream they become lucid quickly and all docile tendencies are forgotten. However, we suspect that that particular outburst from lieutenant y/l/n will be her only one because we’ve nailed down where it came from. We played around with time frames that lined up the best. You were shot and just before the ammo could burst with its gunpowder and spread the toxins through your stream you had fed blood to your lowerank to heal him.” The doctor cleared her throat before giving the room a much wanted update of your condition

“That doesn’t explain why she dropped ‘im like an old toy when Ghost’s blood was introduced.” Price spoke up too many gaps were missing for the brunette's taste as he ran a few fingertips through his short salt and pepper beard.

“I didn’t think such a… uncomfortable topic should be discussed as of right now” At the sound of reasoning Simon moves to stand messy bandaging over the he cuts having waved away the nurses who’d tried to attend to him —a little papercut shouldn’t not taken their attention off of you—. The room seemed significantly smaller when the lieutenant stood

“If opposing threats tread with those bullets we need to know everything about them. Nothing in this line of work is comfortable” His voice screamed demanding; demanding of attention, demanding of response, demanding of results. The middle aged woman visibly swallowed before speaking with a voice filled with discontent.

“With previous blood work of you three well, you all line back to lieutenant Y/l/n, or more precisely she lines back to you” Soaps ears perk up and so did his tail, fur rigid against the skin of it. He wants the brightest apple but he wasn’t the dullest pen either. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together but it sounded so off putting. You fed from them? He’d been around vampires before and you did show qualities of one, the fangs, the pitch black eyes when you fed, it was evidence and it was there… but you didn’t smell like one and seemed to have not even the slightest sensitivity to the sun. The mystery of it all killed him

If you weren’t a hybrid what the hell were you?

“Us, but it doesn’t make sense. She had me there could’ve bit into me” Gaz finishes for the medical agent brows furrowed once again the skin between them creased. The doctor nods while prying on a pair of blue latex gloves

“Doctors from both sides of base have been working on it for now, we believe it’s because you weren’t bleeding. It wasn’t potent enough for her to take interest in it. Our second guess? She was attracted to what or who she got done with last.” The room was silent, one heavy fog was replaced with another. No one speaks of what’s been revealed however you’re onto the next topic before you can dwell on it. The head doctor approaches you slowly, as if you were a skittish cat in the wild.

“I’m just gonna draw a little blood from you to run a few tests, make sure we didn’t miss anything.” You blink at her with sharp eyes and tense muscles when you see the size of the needle, not too much length enough to prick a vein the girth however made your hand twitch in Gaz’s palm. It even made the Scott want to tuck his tail with a wince.

“Hey. You’re alright, you’re fine, you hear me? You’re alright” Ghost had stepped up beside Price to your temporary bed, the heart monitor spikes and before you know it the needle is in your shoulder —meer meters away from the bullet wound that was mending itself at an inhuman speed—. You hiss jerking it away but the doctor is a good one and follows your quick motions successfully. Collecting enough blood in the clear syringe to send off to the labs. She quickly bandages your wound back confident, but not ignorant enough to linger around an upset hybrid.

“Test results should be back as soon as possible, in the meantime while lieutenant Y/l/n flushes the toxins out of her body the side effects of the bullet are still possible until further notice.”

“Which are?” The harpy huffs temper running unusually short, palm gripping your closed fist tighter —not enough to hurt but enough to notice a difference— a lick of tired at the woman’s shirt answers.

“Anything from spikes of heart rate, cold sweats, immense… hunger and most of all intense hallucinations. We think by the time her voice has returned most of the threat should be absent. All we can do is let it run its course, I’m sorry.” The brunette discards of her gloves and leaves the room idle. As much as you try to stay away your eyes droop low and are soon closed tight

💌💌💌💌

Soap sits next to your bedside, warm cup of coffee in hand, his eyes straining to look at the small tv mounted on the wall even though he wasn’t actively watching it. He had finally got Ghost to stretch his legs and go take a shower after three days of nothing but cold sweats and spikes of heart rate from you he decided his —other— lieutenant's heart needed a break. After much pestering, convincing, promising to stick by your side, and a little threat that summed up he wouldn’t think you would like to hear about him rotting next to your bedside the wraith finally took a leave after 72 hours.

“Kyle,” The Scott thought he was just imagining things at first or that it came from the Tv but as he stares at you for a while he realizes it was simply not true. He stared at your face for a while until you’re mumbling again and it pangs his chest a little. He didn't know any of you that well —didn’t know anyone except Price and Gaz really— but he still cared nonetheless it was in his nature.

“Simon, dont.” You’re starting to sweat again and your heart monitor is starting to beep. The werewolf moves to stand ringing for a nurse when it seems to get worse, your body is jerking and you keep mumbling in distress.

💌💌💌💌

You're walking up the stairs of some abandoned building, it's eerily chilly and there's really no light except for the dim overhead light on each floor you pass by that continues to flicker. The stairs and walls are concrete to match the walls and floors, you have your rifle pressed against you sweeping each floor swiftly with precision it could almost feel... normal. You reach the fifth floor and there's a stagger in your step. All of your privates lay dead in pools of their own blood like stuck pigs, hybrids and normals alike lie dead. After a spare moment you continue on to finish your mission as you were ordered to, as you were required to. The next floors to come are still filled with dead privates none lie peacefully, all gone in agony, too soon, you could read the tombstones now.

Your boots march almost rhythmically up three more floors and as they go by you are more and more desensitized to the bodies that sprawled the floor. You make it to the final story of the building and there's a door staring back at you, almost challenging you to open it and you take the duel with not the slightest bit of shake in your hand. The door opened with a loud whine at the unusual action and your riffle drops from your arms at the sight behind it.

You see your captain first, bucket hat that you always made fun of inches away from his body. His right horn that sits atop of his head looks damaged beyond repair and his neck is sliced open from ear to ear. Your breath is trapped in your throat and your body doesn't allow you to move. Your mentor, the reason you are where you are, your sacred captain, lies sliced like a sacrificial lamb. Your eyes trail away from the brunette's cold body and you wish they didn't, there lies your sergeant. One of the two full broad wings adorned with brown feathers are gone, singed away. Your sweet brown eyed boy stares at you voidly. There's no crease of his eyes to let you know he's smiling, no brightness to alert you of life, and the look of adoration he always gave you in particular that was taken for granted forever absent. You cradle his bruised face in your palm and this time you can't stop your tears from running downstream on your face.

"Kyle," Your voice cracks at the slightest utter of his name. You don't think you can say anything else or it'll mean it's true, it'll mean your captain and your sergeant are dead. You reluctantly stand a silent promise to come back to them both and make your way further in the room. You can see the back of a balaclava staring back at you and it helps you breathe better. You approach him with his callsign spilling from your lips. He looked to be hacking intel, just like your mission called for. You approach him putting a palm on his shoulder just for his head to fall limp and you could almost laugh. This had to be some cruel, sick, twisted, joke that should end any second now. It doesn't.

"Si get up right now, get the fuck up! GET UP SIMON!" Your body is trembling as you roughly shake his body, there's no response that comes from it hazel eyes rolled deep into the back of his head and you don't know which hurts worse. Your stomach churns when you gently lift the mask off his face to see toxins spreading through his veins up his neck. The best soldier, the strongest man you’ve met, your one and only, was dead.

💌💌💌💌

Put blood, sweat, and tears into this chapter because you guys deserve it

if you voted on my poll from the last chapter then you could see I used all prompts in this chapter except for one which we’ll deep dive into another day🤗

some have asked for a taglist so comment to be added

I hope you guys are having a wonderful year so far I love you and thank you for everything! -G

[harveywritings92]

[Grim reaper au: R/n is having breakfast with Ghost and Soap.]

Soap: Are you going to finish those hashbrowns?

R/n: Probably no-.

(Soap starts taking the hashbrowns from her plate and eats them. R/n tries to stab him with her fork but Soap moves his hand just in time.)

Soap: Steamin’ Jesus!

R/n: I'm outta here.

Soap: Did you see that? I mean just because I wanted some of her hashbrowns.

Ghost:   I was there.

Soap: I've never seen such violence over such small potatoes.

Ghost: Oh, that was almost clever, Soap.

Soap: ...What was almost clever?

Ghost: The thing about the hashbrowns being small potatoes.

Soap: I don't get it...because hashbrowns are small potatoes.

Ghost: Never mind.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Sometimes I think about a version of Stone who followed his father's footsteps fully and by that I mean, he went into the Marine Corps instead of the U.S. Navy and became a sniper just like his father. Stone who more often than not gets called Bharat Junior because every version of Stone looks like a replica of his father (except that he has his mother's nose) but this one became a legendary sniper like his father.

Stone whose callsign isn't even "Stone" but rather it is his father's callsign, "Grim Reaper". Who surpassed his father's kill count at a young age and whose picture in his file is actually an old black-and-white picture of his father because this Stone doesn't even have his entire body covered in scars so there's barely any difference between him and his father.

Stone who gets stripped of any defining characteristics and traits and just becomes an actual living, breathing carbon copy of Bharat Mishra. The books he read aren't astrology, astronomy, or medical books but rather they are books on warfare, history, and guns. Stone who feels nothing when looking up at the stars and actually is the weapon his father trained him to be than the half-measure weapon Canon!Stone is.

[the-whispers-of-death]

for someone with "grim reaper" in the name, grim reaper!stone sure seems to be one of the more stable ones. featuring baker!stone and traumaless!stone too, ofc dhkjghdgds

getting the image of the kids trusting him wholeheartedly. something something he's just dad to them. he's someone safe. reliable. like a rock, if you'll pardon the pun

something something leaving grim reaper!stone alone with the kids overnight. or for a week. i loooove him and the kids so much augh;;;

He wasn't stable in the beginning, but he got there eventually.

The thing is that he realized that the paranoia is in fact him still being the weapon his father raised him to be and the rest of the Stone variants (the non-stable ones, anyways) don't realize that. Not even Canon!Stone understands that.

Grim Reaper!Stone wants to finally be his authentic self and that means working through all of the issues he got from his father's training.

Anyways, onto the fluff.

Grim Reaper!Stone: I hope neither of the kids try and get me to feed them ice cream or something instead of actual food for dinner. Because I'd fold as soon as they give me those puppy dog eyes.

Grim Reaper!Stone takes them to school on time and gives both of them forehead kisses before they go inside, intent on making sure everything goes smoothly while the three of them are alone for a week. He makes them their favorite foods, making it exactly the way each of them like it. He tucks them in at night, maybe even reads a book to them if they want him to.

[the-whispers-of-death]

SOBBING.... grim reaper stone just wants to be good;;; he just wants to be good and to act good and to be a good boy in general. i am. ill.

i have no thoughts other than *sobbing sounds* /pos

he's the only stone that matters for all i care. my babygirl and i will kill someone if he's hurt again. hes just a baby !!!! just a little guy !!!!! i am wrapping him in bubble wrap and giving him a little kissie and giving him headpats. god.

im utterly insane about him methinks.

Grim Reaper!Stone: Thank you. :)

I'm thinking about Grim Reaper!Stone playing (gently of course) with Mārīte and Sammy when they're younger and yeah, he doesn't really know how to interact with kids but he loves those two. So he just tries his best to make those two laugh and smile.

Grim Reaper!Stone thinking he shouldn't touch them because of how many people he's killed but God does his touch get gentle when he's around the kids or Heartthrob and Sylvester. His grip is only tight when he wants to savor feeling of holding them and even then, he refuses to grip them tight enough for it to hurt.

He learned how to make his touch gentle just for his family, because they deserve the soft part of him.

[the-whispers-of-death]

I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY EXCEPT THAT LINE IS GONNA MAKE ME SICK. OH MY GOD. /POSITIVE. VERY VERY POSITIVE

i dont even wanna send any potential angst his way. your honour, he's literally baby

Thinking about Heartthrob and Sylvester praising Grim Reaper!Stone.

It doesn't even have to be in a sexual context, they just want him to hear that he's a good boy for more than being a weapon for the military since that was the only time anyone had ever called him a good boy before he met Sylvester and Heartthrob.

Grim Reaper!Stone helping Heartthrob in the kitchen while making food? He gets praised for it.

Grim Reaper!Stone helping Sylvester get the groceries inside? He gets praised for it.

And he's so eager to please, so they just have to praise him. Because he deserves it so much.

[the-whispers-of-death]

the grim reaper au really is the perfect au /lh

i love how theyre all in a cuddle pyramid tho. ((guess you can call that an mlm too, by the way theyre all in a pyramid /j <- yes i am embarrassed for laughing at my own shitty joke))

sigh. i really do think i like this au more than even the ranch or mafia ones;;; its so simple and nice and augh;;; THEM !!!

Grim Reaper!Stone, to his boyfriends: I love you to Mars and back. (He chose Mars because it's farther away than the moon.)

Lots of kisses are being exchanged, because they can't not kiss their boyfriends. Since Heartthrob is all the way on the bottom, he tells Grim Reaper!Stone to give Sylvester an extra kiss since he can't kiss Sylvester himself.

And like the good boy he is, Grim Reaper!Stone does what is asked.

[the-whispers-of-death]

sammy is probably a little unsettled by grim reaper stone, but, im assuming that stone just lets him sorta be alone and kinda ignores him constantly, so, due to that sammy is saying he likes stone. maybe not enough to hug him, but they can coexist. on most days. he will still scream if grim reaper!stone decides to check up on him and just stare at him as he sleeps in the middle of the night

rip to sylvester tho. guess he's getting pulled into an inescapable cuddle pile. best of luck to him o7

I feel like Grim Reaper!Stone has the awareness to not check up on people in the middle of the night when they're asleep. And also, in this AU, Heartthrob wears earplugs so he and Grim Reaper!Stone can sleep together and Heartthrob (despite not being a cuddler ((he's a lying liar I guess))) always holds onto Stone so tight.

Stone can't even get up and check on people in the middle of the night even if he wanted to.

Sylvester deserves all of the cuddles and at least he doesn't have Grim Reaper!Stone on top of him. No, he gets to be on top of Grim Reaper!Stone, who is on top of Heartthrob. RIP to Heartthrob.

[the-whispers-of-death]

no thoughts just grim reaper stone and sylvester in that one au w heartthrob. sigh. them <3

theres something about teaching someone how to be a human person that really gets me. like. yeah.

I wonder what Sammy thinks of Grim Reaper!Stone. He's probably scared of him like he's scared of Canon!Stone.

Grim Reaper!Stone is purring into Heartthrob's ear as they cuddle and I think they want to rope Sylvester into the cuddle pile.

[the-whispers-of-death]

just got the vision of teen!sylvester evading the bullet stone fires at him, but he wasn't quick enough and still got grazed

something something matching scars theyve both gotten from their fathers

My jaw just dropped at the image of Teen!Sylvester having a matching facial scar with Stone that popped into my head.

That's all you get because you made me speechless, holy shit. /pos

[thewriterg]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.2

pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader

summary; easiest sail of your life or standing on the line of death

word count; 2.1k | chasin chaos masterlist

warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language

A/n; We made it passed finals,

04:00 came too quickly for your liking you felt like you hadn’t got an inch of rest even if the feeling was nowhere rare nor new to you as you crouched near one of the normals you had decided to recruit for the mission the rest scattered all around the roof of the main building one eye shut another wide looking through the scope of your sniper a silencer attached to the barrel finger scattering to squeeze the trigger as the body of a shade dropped dead it was ironic you thought when you went over the file and quickly made your distaste known to the knock off shadows it was a second too late you were off your usual statistics even if it was pitch perfect to the average eye it was off to you

“Gaz what’s your visual?” You hear Prices gruff voice over your coms waiting out to hear the next move while your normals wait on your word you can see the harpy hybrid further away perched on a satellite talons digging into the disk his strong weighted wings perched well over his shoulder only for the fact you were looking for him because you wouldn’t of known he was there if you didn’t

“It’s sunny out, we’re looking peachy.” The rich warm skinned man replied trucker hat fixed fitted around the perimeter of his head protecting his eyes from the blaring sun that was beginning to set and when the new set of shades came to take over shift from their comrades to see a good chunk of them fallen the game of silence would be over and you’d be able to make noise

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Ghost?”

“Heard. I’ll clear the rest of the way, I’ll keep things under wraps.” The wraith stood next to Soap back pressed against the side of a building gear all black and fitting covering all skin opposite of himself who had on a short sleeve, bulletproof vest, and cargo pants that dipped in the back from his well weighted tail his voice still carrying even through his hard skull mask and a hood that covered the back of his head along with his back side exactly what he would expect the grim reaper to the brunette thought pulling his bottom lip between his teeth

“Then clear the way. When there’s an opening, that’s your cue Soap.”

“Copy. I finally get to see ya strut ya stuff Lt.” The Scott grinned at his superior canines on full display practically gazing into skull even though the man didn’t requite the eye contact himself paying the sergeant little to no mind his own gaze focused elsewhere that being on his gloved hand the subtle sound of Velcro straps being undone a sound that the soldier didn’t quite focus onto

“Ain’t a runway Mactavish”

“No? Could’ve fooled m-” The small sound of fear mixed with ambition slipped from Johnnys lips blue eyes two times as wide and pupils shrinking twice in size when Simon snatched the thick fabric from his fingers nails slightly pointed representing claws even if they were shorter than your average hybrid with claws or talons the tips of his pale hand dark slowly getting lighter as it traveled up his arm shadows singing a similar sound to when you cracked open a two liter of soda and got the first cup even though the ‘fisssss’ and ‘shhhhh’s wasn’t the least of comforting to those on the opposing side when the brunette went to open his mouth the blonde denied the request before even looking it over

“Shut it.” He responds placing his hand deliberately over the worn reddish brown bricks smoking shadows gently traveling from the tips of his fingers before the brown eyes lieutenant applied more pressure veins straining against his flesh even though he felt no discomfort the amount of shadows doubling as they traveled up and around the building hissing gently as it went to soon cause chaos and destruction

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The site of shadows slipping through the floor of the enemy base was quite literally a smoke signal in itself as you see soldiers fall black wraps engulfing them the act of struggling to untangle themselves utterly useless it stunned you a little even though you weren’t yourself affected the sight of shadows out in the field was a sight in itself you fight a grin off your face settling for a smirk and make sure to mutter into your coms ‘show off’ before jumping down from the side of your building along with two soldiers abandoning your post the rest of six according to you headcount still cover ground from above but it’s not enough shades are crowding all around with guns that put hybrids down after one hit at least you knew now that they didn’t have any hybrids of their own forcing you to press your back against a wall after bullets fly past your temple one of your soldiers Red in the same position behind you and the other Tank crouching up against a wall across from you both you curse underneath your breath muttering into you mic

“Gaz, it’s flatline.”

“I know deity, what do you need?” The voice rings back not two seconds later and across the field Soap perks up the sign unfamiliar to him he’s interrupted before he can pounce on it

“Their coming faster than my privates can throw em, need a window to get my soldiers to the main building”

“Go now.” Ghost speaks up from beside the shadows on the wall are darker than before and their are even some slipping through the slits of his eye holes from his mask and when the lieutenant finally turn to face the sergeant his eyes are fully black and along with his eyes there’s shadows seeping from his covered lips this was more than the grim reaper this was death Soap didn’t know his expression carried shock until he went to grin almost unphased yet his voice told a different story

“Shit Lt… yer gonna be a tough act ta follow. But watch me alright?” The brunettes clothes begins to rip as he hunches over the sound of bones creaking and snapping as his canines make themselves known the act almost to swift for the blondes eyes to follow before he’s three times bigger in size ears shifted to sit almost atop of his temples, thinner coats of fur placed on the fronts of his arms traveling down to his hands yet not reaching his palms mohawk a bit longer and beard a bit thicker

“I’ll put on a good show”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Run they’ve got a wolf!” You move out of the shadows quickly watching shades scatter around as things clash and shake you take your window without a thought pushing until you’ve made into the building alarms blaring yet it’s fairly empty only few soldier remaining that you could see you give your sergeants a look signaling them over with a tilt of your chin and they obey

“For now, we’re one in sync.” They nod look of confusion shining beneath the look of loyalty as you hold your palm out placing it on the area of their foreheads until their faces is covered now mirroring yours the body of a bird sitting in between the area of your eyebrows and the beginning of the nasal bone the head resting in the middle of the forehead one wing stretching around the eye the tips of the wings burning red yet it’s inner body a bold orange and the other stretched over the opposite one tail kicking out to swing over the area of the cheek down to the chin a true sign of the phoenix

The three of you split Red takes out two shades with nothing but the wield of her fists the act of the neck bones cracking under her fingertips while Tank opts for his pistol no matter is its bashing the butt in someone’s skull or shooting a bullet between their eyes the shades don’t know what the hell hit them but it fucking hard as you walk down hallway your fingers drag alongside the wall and you stop gently at the sight of shadows crawling over the wall the timing is almost perfect as an unwanted crowd stand across from you before you can even open your mouth bullets spray your shoulder is grazed as the rest of them are suddenly stopped in mid air black smoke wrapped around them as you and the shadows interlink and hold hands

“You have, exhausted my patience.” You state lowly with a twirl of your fingers before sharply pinching the bullets into makeshift spears pushing them out with force the shades try to retreat but at the end they are still, lying dead on the cold cement floor a burnt red and orange bird mask covered face the last thing they see

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“Rats are jumping ship… keep a few alive we need the intel. Gaz, eyes on Soap?”

“He’s makin’ a scene in the center yard” The crow hybrid huffs out a chuckle a small grin resting on his face perched on a side of a building brown feathered wings spread across his back while the werewolf huffs a grin on his face before responding into his mic connected by the collar around his neck defending his honor to his lieutenant

“Not for nothin’. Destroyed the drive captain.”

“Good, get to the extraction point.” Price speaks up before dying out just as quickly while Gaz dives to the ground his wings strong going against the current of wind with a ‘swoosh’ and the canine baring hybrid didn’t stutter in steps making his way over to the harpy with a smirk before it dropped confusing the brunette as he inched towards the skull wearing lieutenant

“Haven’t heard from Deity Lt.” Gaz muttered eyebrows furrowed and Ghost’s shoulders are up and tense more than they were before and as he turns to switch on his coms Price beats him to it having overheard the harpy since he left his own line open

“Deity, what’s your status?” With not a slip of the tongue for you the captain repeated into the radio

“Deity how copy?” The complete silence on your end made them wary you weren’t an easy one to take down let alone to be took down at all so why the hell weren’t you answering your damn coms to your captains calls

“Deity” The wraith growled out now order direct and firm even if you were his downright equal you could hear the hulking echo slightly and before Gaz is taking off to cover ground from above they see the silhouette of your mask before they see you your feet a somewhat dragging behind you as you carry the weight of a three thousand pound missile over your back with a body hunched over your shoulder while you lug them both finally able to drop what you came here for, your mission you set the body on its feet staring sharply into its eyes Tank it was Soap recalled yet the position of the soldier standing up straighter with every passing moment until he was letting out a breath nodding his raven colored head of hair confused the Scott was he not just injured? Did he not just look like utter shit slung over your shoulder mere minutes ago? And was that blood smeared around his lips? The uncertainty of it all made him itch while Kyle was quick to come to your aid that you waved off before he could inch to close it confused him it was unusual to say the least I mean sure you’d roll your eyes to the point he’d tease they’d get stuck but outright refusing was rare he didn’t push it though chalked it as the adrenaline from the mission hadn’t gone yet

“Can you lug around three thousand pounds, half a mile” Your eyes were hooded yet sharp as you turn to question the mohawk wearing mutt gaze piercing through him that reminded him of a skull wearing lad and he stares at you for a second before cracking that grin nodding his head but you don’t spend an extra second before murmuring to your privates who go to regroup with the rest of their equals before you begin the walk trailing besides Ghost reaching to give him something that Soap can’t quite see before he realizes it’s a part of gloves when he’s shoves them over his fist the sight of you both with black hoods that sway behind your back the side view of the the Grim reaper and Phoenix was truly ethereal and by the look in Gaz’s eyes

He agrees

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

www.everyoneiscoocooforcoacopuffsbecauseofdeity.com//

I’ve been on break since Tuesday @ 2:30pm we’re gonna act like im not posting this on Saturday @ 9am 😊