So Tempted To Right A Long As Oneshot Where 141 Meet A John Wick Reader

So tempted to right a long as oneshot where 141 meet a John wick reader

Kinda tempted to do CoD monster au

Livestock AU

Where Cod characters are hybrids living on a farm -------------------

Price and Alejandro were raised together, as guardian livestock animals they were raised together. Alejandro is a Llama hybrid and is trained to attack dog-like creatures he guards over the sheep. When Gaz the young border collie Hybrid was introduced he had to work with a very aggressive Llama that didn’t like his dog shape.

Ghost is a Kangal, like Price but much bigger. Ghost comes from a puppy mill and has to fight to get food. Very quiet dog unless intimidating the coyotes and wolves. Ghost learns quickly and tends to be the most independent but always comes back to check in with his fellow livestock dogs.

Soap is a Great Pyrenees who generally do anything required of him, mostly looking after the ducks, ducks, and goose. Very playful and young still learning the ropes but very good at his job does sleep during the day since he needs to be active at night. If he sees an unattended egg left over night will eat it.

Lastly is Gaz a border collie and very good at his job if he finds anyone miss behaving (most Soap sometimes Roach) he will bite them near the next to correct that behavior.

Laswell and Roach are both Barn cat hybrids. Laswell usually does all the recon missions and gets the boys to then check things out if she finds something suspicious. Roach is a rescue dumpster cat who survives being poisoned a few times. Very rambunctious and follows the guardian dogs around. Ghost is very fond of the silent cat, you will find Roach sneaking bites of Ghost dog food.

Lastly only recently added is an Alpaca. Rudy is situated with the Goats and as their alarm system acts like a less aggressive Alejandro. Alejandro and Rudy do see each other as packmates as well as their individual herd.

Nik is an old police dog who retired as a family dog, and will help out once in awhile when the urge to work hits him.

The livestock guardians’ main rival is a pack of wolves led by Graves. His shadow is a large pack of wolves that tries the farm every once in a while.

Another group is a group of Coyotes led by Valeria. She has gotten a few Birds from Soap which really upsets him.

The farm is currently being invaded by rats Led by Makarov and Laswell is trying her damnest to hunt him down, he and his Konni group are aggravating the farmer.

The farmer decided to get a few more barn cats.

Reader is a small kitten from another farm with too many cats they and their two friends, Farah a brownish cat hybrid, and Alex a big sandy color cat are added. Turns out Alex is the son of Laswell one of her litters.

Reader is treated like an eyesore by the older guardians until they are old enough to train, learn, and join the workforce. Reader mostly wonders around seeing each group and how they work, and finding their spot to rest in. Makarov once scared them and got scolded by Price. -------

It stupid idea idk was inspired a little by @tacticalanklebiter3000 and @frogchiro and the Hybrid side of Cod community

JOHN WICK READER????? yes. please. i'm begging

I will do that after my two exams next week!!!!

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Baba Yaga Task force 141 X John Wick! reader

Tw: animal abuse, references to pregnancy, mention of miscarriages, blood, gore, violence, death Gender neutral uses Mx for Mr/ Mrs it’s ge

Task Force 141 X gn Reader

Working with a Legend

Pt. 1

TW: Violence and Death

You stare out the truck window your a random sniper rifle in your hands. You had no particular type of sniper gun you specialized in. You're a jack of all trades master of none, for being a master of one is a fool's job. You picked up your gun and looked it over. It was one of the latest models. New scope and everything. You smirk and set it down.

They’re always someone looking at you. One of them was always looking at you. They could not stop watching you waiting to see your skills up close. Soap, that one watched you like a hawk as another sniper he was giddy, on the other hand, Ghost simply existed behind you.

He kept you in his gaze everywhere you go he followed. It was cute, like a puppy he was an obedient thing. You kinda of wanted to see how far he’ll go.

The truck came to a stop and you all filed out. You take a deep breath and wait for Ghost. He demanded you to be on his team so he could keep an eye on you. It’s been a few months, and this was the second mission. The first one you and Gaz sat taking out the individuals and snipers.

You turn to Ghost and nod, you're not here to win their trust, you're paid to be here. You didn’t need to like them and they didn’t need to like you. As long as they keep paying you and the price is proportional to the mission you’ll stick around. You’re a person who only does things not for honor, or the right thing, but for the money.

Money rules the world and you like to dominate things.

Your mission collect a Nazi terrorist group leader alive. A former customer, but you never sign deals where you can’t kill them. Soap walked in front while Ghost brought up the rear. The walk was silent as you three creep up on the compound these Nazis live in. You turn to Ghost.

“What’s your plan?” You asked. You’re not being paid enough to create a plan or to care if a plan is good or not. You’re paid to be a simple grunt there is no need to be anything more.

“Soap take the lead we’ll back you up.” Ghost instructs, “You stay back and cover us.” You nod.

Now you remember why you left the military. All these procedures were time-consuming and very boring. You could have simply killed the man without this hassle, but they want this fool alive. How annoying, how tedious. You stare at the racist and look away what a sad little man following another sad little man.

You sat back, back turned to the interrogation. You’re not paid to enough to care, if under investigation— you saw nothing. You put on your headphones— you hear nothing. It’s not your business. You look down at the gun, it is nice but a little pompous. they were clearly trying to win her over.

You smirk and look out of the building seeing the dead body littering the ground. Kate’s playing a deadly game. She didn’t want to lose you, but she also didn’t want you to slip from their fingers again. The door opens and you see the task force walking out of the room. The man was nowhere in sight, probably dead.

You stand and follow after the group Ghost of course behind you staring holes in the back of your head. You look over your cold eyes catching his. His gaze was a little hard to read, it was certainly an untrusting gaze.

“I don’t even know why you're even here.” Ghost finally spoke up in the quiet truck. Everyone turns to you waiting for a response.

“Tell that to Kate, It’s America’s money.” You turn to him with a slight smirk.

“Did his words bug you?” Soap asked looking at you up and down.

“Hardly, he’s not my employer. Even if he was I wouldn’t care.” You hum with a yawn. “I won’t lie this is a waste of my time and talent.” You push her hair back and look at them.

“Of course, you would think that.” Gaz sneers.

“Sweetheart, money talks and I like money.” You say honestly.

“So you’re a mercenary for money?”

“You can say that.” You won’t lie you technically are a mercenary but you also had private militia contact. You are part of a group. But they don’t need to know that.

A few days passed and Ghost spent of course his days staring at you. Watching you, hunting you. You learn to ignore it, it did get under your skin but he could not let him know it did.

Laswell walked in.

“Laswell, how have you been?” She turns to you with a scowl. No one liked you— it didn’t matter.

“You have a mission by the US Government.” She states.

“What is it?” Price stands up walking over to see the case files.

“It’s only for L.” A sly smirk crosses your face and you take the file.

It was a hit on a Middle eastern Terrorist leader. You look over the details and memorize everything. “Done,” You hand back the file and begin to walk away considering your plan.

“Wait.” You look over.

“They’re part of this team, this is our mission.” Ghost spoke up. He didn’t want you out of his grip.

“fives a crowd.” Ghost shot you a glare.

“I agree.” Price spoke up.

“Fine, I’ll take Gaz and Soap.” Price and Ghost frown but they cannot argue with her.

“All right.”

“Let me back my things.” You stand up and walk out.

“Keep an eye on them.”

You three left the next day on a cargo plane. It is a few hours and you’ll stop by a base pick up the gun and stalk your prey. The two men stared at you most of the time. You told them very little of the mission. The cargo plane lands and the tree walks over to the next plane.

As they walk you catch them up to date on the mission. The person’s name, their role in the terrorist group, the impact of them, and how you plan on finding them. “Do you got that?” They nod and look at each other it was a thorough plan.

Weeks pass as the three of them gather information on the target silently. They took out footmen and slowly hunted the man down. You three tracked the person down to a few buildings, he traveled too.

“What’s that?”

“Poison.”

“Why do you have that?” Soap asks.

“Watch.” You walked up to a little girl and spoke to her in her native tongue. The little girl took the vile.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m making this easier on us, they want this to look like an accident.” You state as both men follow after you. “Go to that alleyway and shoot it up.”

“What?”

“We’re going to simulate a small skirmish and he dies from a stray bullet. I’ll signal you to begin shooting he’ll walk onto his balcony and I’ll get him”

“What’s the poison for?”

“It’ll force him to go upstairs.” Soap’s eyes lit up and he nodded both men finally understood. They nod and walk into the alleyway making sure no one else is there.

You take your spot and wait. You see him walking up into his room, “Now,” You say in the comms. They lit up the alleyway. As you thought the man stumbles out. You took the shot. before pulling out a second gun just like the ones used by Gaz and Soap.

You shot the balcony up and to the alleyway. “Let’s go!” You shout and they run after you.

“Is this how most of your mission goes?” Gaz asks a little out of breath.

“No, but since I got two helpers I used it.” You state as you guys head back to your makeshift home base.

“I see why Laswell doesn’t want you out of her grips.” Soap states as you three pack up.

“What can I say, I am highly wanted.”

Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 2: Bullets and Pots

pt.1 pt.2, pt. 3

You stare at them. And they stared at you. You grow and twist your arms until the rope becomes loose. You really had to remove the bullet from your head. You violently dislocated your shoulder and pulled your left hand free.

You throw your head forward dislodging the bullet in your head. You reach into the hole pull out the bullet and drop it onto the ground. You rotate your neck before freeing your other arm.

“You know it’s impolite to shoot someone from that distance.” You hum as the hole in your head begins to close. “Next time shoot me up close, so the bullet doesn’t get stuck.”

You reach down untie your feet, stand up, and walk toward the group. “What with those expressions? It seems like you're seeing a zombie—“

Bang!

Another bullet hits you point blank in the face. You fall backward as they lay more bullets into your body. They quietly stare at each other before leaving, your eyes open and you stand up in the empty… where were you?

It didn’t matter you picked up your bag and left. As you leave the large room you hear a low voice talking. We’re they still here? Might as well scare the shit out of them.

“Hey,” you round the corner as a bullet hits you in the heart. You stare down at the hole in your chest. “That’s not very nice.” You look up shaking your head.

“How the fuck are you still alive?”

“I’m immortal.”

“We killed you.”

“You tried.”

They stared at you with horror in their eye. You were still alive. I looked down at their map, they were planning something.

“Mmh, colonizing shit, you make your ancestors proud.” You look up at the British military men. They give you a cold look.

Ghost raises his gun, “Don’t waste your bullets on me.” You say not looking at him. “We both know it won’t work.” He slowly lowers his gun and looks down at you.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m Egyptian…. I’m from Egypt. This is my home territory.” You’d rate the obvious.

“How old are you?” Soap folds his arm curious about the answer.

“About 5,000 years old.” You casually stare looking down at your ruined clothes. “I was born a little after Egypt was unified. So about 5,000 years old.” You looked him in the face.

“How are you still alive?”

“I don’t know.”

“How don’t you know?”

“We didn’t have science back then!” I shout at Soap.

“I’m older than your Goddamn country, show me some respect!”

“You act like a bratty child.” Ghost hums looking at you with annoyance.

“I am still 20, there’s a dichotomy, between my age and my mental age. I’ve been through a lot and processed it like a 20-year-old.” You explain. The mustache man nods somewhat understanding.

“You do act your age.”

“What you guys doing?” You stand on your tippy toes trying to catch a glimpse of what they're doing. They move to block your view.

“This is private information.”

“Geez ok,” you put your hands up, “it’s not like I’m gonna retain that information. It’s not important to me.”

“Why do you wanna know then?”

“Because I’m nosy,” you shrug. In this decade you decided to be the most immature person ever, to truly act your mental age. A little dumb and completely insufferable.

“Anyways I need to head back… I’m thinking the lady I’m staying with is looking for me.” You begin to walk off, humming a tune so old it was ingrained in your very soul.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“Back to my Airbnb,” you turn around spreading your arms to the mustache man. “Don’t worry I won’t mention you, all four of you aren’t worthy to be remembered.” You give them a bow and Waltz out.

You have rented the Airbnb for a month. you open the door and set your bag down. If the police are looking for you, you're going to have to call in and clear up the misinformation. You take a shower and change to less damaged bloody clothes.

“Hey is this the police?… this is yn… I wasn’t missing just went on a spiritual journey without my phone… sorry for the inconvenience… of course, I’ll tell someone next time.” You hung up, bored and slightly numb.

You should call in that temple site, and get your pots in a museum; not the British Museum, but a local one. You found the right phone number of an old colleague.

“Hey is mister Renfield there? Yes, this is Sofia, Mary’s daughter. Me and my mother stumble across a hidden temple.” News travels fast and you soon we’re back in your temple this time willingly and unstuck.

“Sofia,” you look up.

“Look at these pots, they are your specialty,” Benjamin said. He was an archeologist from America helping with the dig.

“These are in great condition,” you hum, of course, they are. Nobody touched them but you. “These artifacts might tell us more about this temple.”

“This site gonna be a new tourist attraction.” You smile but deep inside you hate the idea of random people ruining your sacred temple.

You walk the street at night. You didn’t need sleep, you didn’t need food, you didn’t need water. But you like those things, they make you feel more mortal more human. You found it ironic you wanted to be human again when for many years you’ve seen yourself as a god amongst men.

“These pots look expensive.” You froze and looked to your right.

“We can sell this to the British Museum.”

Hell no!

You begin to walk down the alleyway, those pots— must have come from your site. Those were your pots, nobody else but yours. You found three men packing them into boxes.

“What do you think you're doing with my pots?” You coldly asked in Arabic. They turn to you like deer in headlights. One pulls out a gun and threatens to shoot. You stare at them coldly arms folded.

“Back off bitch!”

“Why?” You walk closer and they frown. They turn to each other and begin to speak another language.

You could understand them. They were talking about your looks. They could sell you. Or harvest your organs. You frown if they discover your immortality they keep you as a slave.

“Human trafficking?” They froze and turned to you horrified. You knew the second language too. You pull out your tactical whip and hit the one with the gun. You took the gun and turned it on them.

“Take me to your hideout.” You demand. You will take all the artifacts they have stolen back. They slowly took you to an abandoned warehouse at the end of the city. They tried to take the gun back but your whip took good care of their attempts.

It hurt like hell and it culled their attempts to fight you. You knocked out both men, with one hard punch and tied them up with the rope you carried in your bag. You enter the abandoned warehouse. It was mostly empty, besides the shit tone of guns, but you didn’t care for that.

“Damn, what is this? An incels’ wet dream?” You mutter staring at the boxes of guns.

You walk around taking in all the stuff. Most of it was military, not your problem. You found your artifacts all in a single box with little care put into it. You deer in frustration. You pull out your phone to call in the stolen items and the military-grade gun.

“Hello, police?”

“Price over here.” Your voice does as you slowly lookout to find those four military men. You end the call and stand up.

“Hey.”

Bang!

“Hey, these pots are old!” You yell back trying to protect the box.

“What are you doing here,” mustache man roars in anger.

“Stolen museum pots!”

“How can we trust you?” They all had their guns pointed at you. You roll your eyes.

“I’m an archeologist first, a historian second, and a bitch lastly. I don’t give a shit about your damn mission only these pots!” They turn to each other. Was she for real? They look at you. Yes, she is.

“Alright you're here for pots, how did you get here.”

“Two looters try to steal my temple pot.”

“How did you take out two men?”

“Tactical whip,” you hold up your metallic whip. Soap sighed and the mustache man simply covered his eyes.

“Does it work?”

“Very well.”

“I’m going to call the police—“

“No, we’re going to call the military.” Mustache man interrupted you. You sigh and stretch your arms.

“Alright, when they get here just tell them that box is historically important.” You pick up your stuff and begin to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“You guys got this handle, and I still need to report another problem.” You wave your hand.

“Let’s not meet up again.” You state as you leave the warehouse.

You called in the temple pot theft and your colleagues explained the frustrating situation. Looters are the first enemy of knowledge and history.

Bang!

You fall forward and your world turns black.