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#COD reaper
children-of-epiales · 8 months
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Careful
Word Count: 711
        Jody turns his head away from the gauze, his eyes narrowed at the brunette in warning. 
“ If you don’t let me do this-I will make sure you’re ordered to take time off.” Rouen promises, returning the nasty expression. “ That shit doesn’t work with me.”
“ What. Shit.” The enraged man grits his teeth; with his hair being so disheveled and the mixture of dirt and blood that covers him, it’s no wonder why Reaper’s the only one who offered to deal with him. 
Instead of answering him, the brunette places the gauze back in its packaging and turns on her heel; she’s ready whenever Jody reaches out for her, yanking her arm so he won’t be able to prevent her from leaving. “ Hey!” He barks when she makes a break for the door, “ Rouen please-”
“ Please what?” The Canadian spat at him in the same threatening tone he spoke in before. 
“ Please fucking help me, alright?! Please it…it hurts.” Jody gestures to his head, the fingers on his right hand just as bloodied from being stomped and grinded on. “ It hurts so bad.” 
Rouen tilts her head forward. Her friend returns to the seat and she opens a new pack of gauze, this time not waiting to press it on his head wound. “ What were you thinking…” She wipes some of the running blood, then tosses the stained material and opens another, this time neatly taping it down on the wound. “ These people-they’ll kill someone if enough of ‘em agree on it, you know what. You, J, nor I have made the best impression, so we need to be careful.”
She washes his injured hand and works on bandaging that, wrapping each finger before the palm of the hand. “ Go on-” Rouen’s eyes flicker up at Jody, “-what she’d say? What did you say? How’d the fight happen?” 
Jody goes silent upon hearing the question. The French Canadian glances to his friend’s left, then to her right and his gaze remains on whatever is across the room. “ Roze made a comment, and I got upset.” He decides to answer. “ I’ll give credit where credit’s due-I know no ranger is someone to screw with, but she’s such an asshole, Rouge. Fuck-the other day when she shoved J because he was gonna grab her rifle by mistake? I don’t do shit like that.” 
“ It’s not easy to be around her,” Rouen agrees. “ But, do you remember what Evan said?”
Jody narrows his eyes at her. “ We’re not here to make friends, we’re here to do our jobs.” He repeats mockingly. “ But I can’t do my job if I’m too busy having to worry about watching my own back, can I?” His brows raise when Rouen rolls her eyes at him. “ Go on-tell me I’m wrong and Stiletto totally didn’t try to slice you up two weeks ago. Tell me, Rouge, go on-you know you wanna.” 
The brunette shushes him and places her fingers over his mouth. Jody immediately licks them, earning him a slap on the slap on the shoulder. “ Idiot!” Rouen scolds him before collecting her supplies. “ Listen, I know it’s tough-we all do-but you just gotta try and adjust okay? You find yourself near someone you think will get on your nerves-”
“ I gotta distance myself.” The brunet looks Rouen in the eyes while recalling the line. “ I get, I get it, I get it.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, roughs it up as much as possible, somehow always managing to forget that he gets it cut before going back out into the field. “ Thanks for patching me up, Rouge.” Jody mumbles, letting out a heavy sigh after. “ We should…”
“ Go before they say something, right.” Rouen nods, though it takes her a minute to process what they’re actually doing. She, too, does not want to return among the soldiers that she has to force herself not to return a glare at, not to open her mouth when they converse about her when she’s in the room, to always double check that her gun is with her before she goes to sleep at night. 
She eventually leaves, and it doesn’t take Jody long to follow her out. The only thing worse than having to go undercover is doing it alone.
Tagging: @voidika @shegetsburned @jinfromyarikawa @scentedcandleibex
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ave661 · 4 months
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley - "Gilded Reaper" skin
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lefttoesucker · 2 months
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The grim reaper outfit is making me feral every time I see it so here's a quick sketch of it :)
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I'm also actually pretty pleased with the eyes for once
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yawnderu · 1 month
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Can I get a pic of your dick from above and pulling your underwear away can I get a pic of it from the front leaking and can. I get a gif from the side of it bouncing and twitching could I get a close up of the veins can you smack it on the camera lens at HD? can i
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reds-skull · 9 months
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(continuation of this)
Okay maybe I lied Soap won't be fine by the time Ghost is done with him
[edit: text bubbles are bigger for better visibility]
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journen · 1 year
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The Gilded Reaper Ghost skin is so extra™️. Imagine standing next to him dressed like that… lol.
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reaper-chan666 · 3 months
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More random Snake Hybrid! Reader headcanons:
CW: Slight mentions of blood, gore, injuries, and snake behaviors, also, soft Gaz and Ghost hours.
Snake just got off the helicopter, caked in mud, dirt, dust, and whatever grass they had on your last mission, not to mention the blood and guts from the enemies you killed. You looked terrifying, like you had rolled in all of it for a week.
Price gave everyone a chance to do generic debriefs on the way back, with the promise of more in depth ones later, after everyone was clean and ok.
Snake was wearing a muzzle, their pupils still blown wide, and acting aggressive, their snake instincts taking over, especially after Gaz had been shot. They were plastered to his side the whole ride back, hissing at anyone who got too close.
Back ar the base, Ghost gently grabbed them by the back of their neck, immobilizing their head, and picking up the rest of their body right after, taking them to the showers, or in Snake's case, the tub. The 141 men learned really quickly, that their snake Hybrid HATED the feeling of showers, it was too much for their skin, so they got a tub installed and one of them would always stay close by when Snake needed to bathe, just to make sure everything was OK.
Snake was wriggling as best they could, trying to get out of Ghosts arms, but the tank of a man held strong, and got them into the bathing room. With slight struggle, Ghost got Snake's gear off, and got them mostly undressed, leaving them in a tank top and their shorts they always wore under their uniform pants. He held Snake close and softly murmured to them, getting them to calm down enough that Ghost could bathe them without either person getting hurt.
After the bath, Ghost was able to determine if Snake was injured, thankfully this time was minor scratches from the environment they were in, and got them dressed in comfortable clothes, before leading the still muzzled hybrid to the med Bay.
They entered the med bay, and Snake made a beeline to Gaz's side, making sure he was taken care of well. Once they determined that Gaz and Ghost were both good, Snake's pupils returned to normal, and their body finally relaxed. Gaz removes the muzzle and apologies flooded from the hybrid's mouth, which they were quickly hushed by Gaz and Ghost.
They spent the next week with Gaz during the day, and at night in Ghost's room, which made the task of keeping them calm a lot easier.
Ghost and Gaz would hold Snake and reassure them that everything's fine, and that Gaz would be back at training in no time.
End.
A/N: should I give Snake a nickname? Or callsign? Or do yall like them being referenced as Snake, and making your own?
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onebigwhale · 1 year
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when ghostsoap meet reaper76
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yumethefrostypanda · 1 year
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Reaper Ghost
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onmywaytoslay · 4 months
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Daniel during her time within the Shadow Company ! She was quite popular 🥴 and had quite a reputation !
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xoalin4-xota-linda · 1 month
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NIKTO X READER
A very short story of Nikto as Death/Grim Reaper and the reader as Life
Or how I imagine it.
Forgive me for spelling mistakes or uncharacteristic characters. I am going off how I see them— but do please do tell me if I got the assumption of Death or Life wrong🙏
Death, that is who he was. To bring an end to those whose time have come— a depressing job he has really. Tho he is long used to it now. Seeing the life fade from a creatures eyes— the gruesome ways that he extinguishes one’s life.
He didn’t care much for it anymore, it was as simple as waking up now. Only he wishes he could get the same peace that he delivers to the creatures he kills.
Now, his life wasn’t completely bland or just killing and killing and.. you get it. There was one person who just happens to light his day up, literally.
Life, a pretty woman she was, kind woman. And so, so annoying. Blinding him with her light— he wishes to extinguish it, tho even that seems to be too far for him to do.
He hates her, he really does. Her happy voice, he just wants to be alone in a quiet place— but no, she just happens to come along and make him wish he could tear his own eyes out. He wishes he could slice his ears off, or her head, if only it would stop him from hearing her voice. And plucking out his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her light.
He hates her, she is so pretty, unlike him. Her smile isn’t crooked, her teeth aren’t yellowish, her face isn’t ruined beyond.. he resents her.
He made it his personal mission to kill everything she gives life too. Whether it be a batch of beautiful flowers she spent weeks on making thrive, the next day they would be nothing but rotten on the ground.
A village she tended to, they lived happily with her watching over them. They got good vegetation, the animals were fat and healthy, the children ran and played. A plague killed half the village and the animals were no longer healthy, the grass was no longer green, the vegetation no longer grew.
A petty thing really, what he does, simply because he hates her. He hates her so much he can’t stop thinking of ways to try and make her stop smiling— to see her cry, to see her in pain, to see her— that’s it, to see her. He hates her so much that he follows her everywhere she goes. That he scoffs and speaks profanities to her it only to make her uncomfortable— if only to try and dim that light that he hates so much.
Yet, no matter what he tries, no matter how rude he is, how he kills everything she gives life too— she still smiles warming at him. She still says hello or good morning to him in that chirpy voice of hers. She still offers his flowers each time she sees him— even tho he kills them every time.
He hates her, because she is opposite of him, opposite of what he wishes he could have. A pretty face, not marred so much by scars that it hurts even him to look at. Hands that have helped more than killed. A life that isn’t bland, blank and boring.
He hates her because she hurts his heart every time he looks at her because no matter what, he will never be able to experience the happiness she gives others.
He hates her because she is everything he wants.
he hates her because she is what he can never have.
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children-of-epiales · 9 months
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Template by @moontruffles
Ship: Your Blood is On My Hands
Stiletto's pic came from here
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ave661 · 1 year
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starsofang · 2 days
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soul collector ghost x reader || pt.2
more thoughts on reaper ghost!
just as ghost's job entailed, he took you to the so called paradise that one achieves after death, but he found himself doing it begrudgingly. ghost was absolutely not one that formed attachments to souls, much less so quickly. his job was to deliver the lost souls to what humans liked to call heaven, or in some cases, hell, and it had been that way for centuries.
so why was he hesitant to send you off to the very place you'd rest in peace, and with that little cat of yours you had requested him to take with you?
it was a dangerous game that his mind was playing. soul collectors didn't have feelings, nor did they have the ability to grow fond over souls they encountered on their jobs. yet when ghost took you to that oasis, leaving you behind to spend your days in content, he found himself mulling over you as the days went on.
visiting couldn't hurt, right? so that's what he did. and boy, it was a mistake.
he was falling for you. you, a dead woman with an entire life that got stolen from her, where you were residing peacefully with the company of your beloved cat. the supposed heaven was much like regular life for humans, except without the danger, the angst, the pain, the love.
what would the gods think of little old him, a reaper with a skull for a face, all bone and no skin, falling for a soul that belonged to them? it had never been heard of, and for him to feel the way he did, he thought perhaps he was broken. he'd spent centuries in this line of work. hell, he didn't even know if he, too, was a living person before he was what he is now. maybe time had eroded away his cold, dead heart, and he just wasn't fit for any of this anymore.
how could he not fall in love with you, when you danced around in your newfound home, cat bundled in your arms as you sang a song he didn't know the tune of?
how could he not love you, when you always greeted him with a blinding smile that could melt away the coldness in his heart, and a voice as sweet as candy giving him a "hey, ghost!" every time he came?
just like now, while you sat with your cat in your lap and your eyes staring in awe of the heavenly skies with him standing rigid beside you, he knew there wasn't a single thing in his mind that could ever convince him that he didn't have the heart to fall for you.
ghost knew he was royally fucked, both with himself and with the gods. he wasn't meant for this life of falling in love, and his creation was made solely against that. yet somehow, you managed to crawl your way into his body and soul, nesting there permanently with no plans of evicting.
you were like a virus that was slowly rewiring the workings of his mind, burrowing yourself so deep, it'd be near impossible to recode you out.
"are you enjoying it here?" he asked you then. while your eyes remained focused on the golden rays that filled the sky, his were locked on to you. he took in the slight shimmer in your eyes, one he had never seen before in someone dead. he noted the quirk of your lips, the way they curled at the edges and exposed perfectly aligned teeth.
"oh, absolutely," you told him back with that damned smile of yours. "but I enjoy it a lot better when you visit."
ghost had never felt his chest flutter before, but he swore, it was as if a cage of butterflies had been released, filling him up with the foreign feeling of giddiness.
"that so?" he hummed, continuing to plaster on the void of emotions he had grown to do over his time as a reaper. "suppose I'll have to visit more often."
and when you turned to finally look at him, it would've taken the breath out of his lungs if they functioned.
"I'd like that," you agreed, and just from that confirmation alone, ghost decided he was willing to risk everything he had, everything he had ever been created for, just to see that smile everyday of his eternal life. gods be damned.
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wrylu · 26 days
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mask smooches
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okay i'm back on my AU Reaper! Ghost shit again. hear me out.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4
Roba buries Ghost alive, but Ghost refuses to die.  He's running out of breath, he's tired and thirsty, he can feel Death approaching (it’s essence tastes like the dried blood under his broken fingernails and the bitterness of fresh mud on his tongue) and yet.  He refuses to die.  
Death can have Simon Riley when it has earned Simon Riley.  And It never quite gets there, because Simon is filled with fury, and torment and a need for vengeance that runs so deep in his veins that he de-thrones Death, becomes Death himself.  
Yamraj, Mors, Ankou, Thanatos, Grim Reaper - he's called many names over the countless lifetimes he lives, and as time passes, he forgets who he used to be.  He forgets Simon Riley. 
And yet, time continues its relentless passing while he stays frozen, doomed to aid the journey into whatever comes after, doomed to play passive witness to war and famine and drought but also to prosperity and times of peace and accord.  Death never stops, after all, and It comes for everyone.  
Simon has one job - unarguably and absolutely the most important job in the universe.  And yet, he finds himself...discontented.  With every name on the list he reaps, with every cheek or hand he kisses, with every soul he is forced to console, he becomes increasingly desensitised, further losing his grip on who and what he used to be. 
Until a curveball is thrown his way, changing everything forever.
Because he sees you.  And he can’t look away.
You won’t die in that accident, he knows that.  It comes very close (your name flickers on and off Simon's list) but you won’t die. Neither will the drunken driver who rams into you, and Simon finds himself filled with an emotion he hasn't felt for a while. He feels fury.
And yet he's forced to set it all aside, finding it hard to breathe as you’re pulled out of the car. He stands over the paramedics’ shoulders as they work on you.  He kneels by your face and touches it, but you don’t feel it.  He pushes blood-matted hair away from your eyes, but the strands don’t move.  
He doesn’t know why a human who hadn’t even made it to his list captures his attention like this.  He is infinite and omniscient and at the apex of every conceivable food chain.  And yet, Death keeps a silent vigil by your hospital bed, waiting, watching, waiting.
And about sixty hours after the accident, your eyes open and you stare straight at him.           
And somehow, against every rule of the universe, you see him.  And this time, you're the one who can’t look away.
(Part 2)
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