Pandemonium AU

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.

Task Force 141 x Genz Gn Reader

Stupid idea I'm gonna call the series: Madness from Another Dimension (MAD)

TW: Mention of death

It was an accident. Honest to god a full-on accident. One minute you are walking the next fall from the sky. You hit the ground kinda hard and look around. A few people stared at you nearly as shocked as you. You were instantly grabbed and dragged into a building.

You looked around and immediately began to smile uncontrollably. Price was standing right in front of you and so was Soap. Your heart begins to accelerate with joy.

“Who the fuck are you?” They ask aggressively. “How did you get here?” You stare at them, and a nagging question hits you like a truck you had to know.

“Shepard is he Bold or has a mustache?” You yell frantically. He stared at you dumbfoundedly.

“Answer—”

“ANSWER ME! BOLD OR MUSTACHE??”

“Bold.”

“Is Gaz’s black?”

“How do you know him!” Price points his gun at you.

“IS HE?”

“Yes!”

“OH THANK GOD!” You shout collapsing onto your knees and laying on the ground your anxiety settling. “He’s bold this is fantastic!” You cheer.

“What happened if he had a mustache and Gaz wasn’t black?” Soap asked seeing your excitement in a weird light.

“I would have cried!” You state look at him.

“Why would a mustache make you cry?” Soap asked squatting down next to you so confused.

Your mouth falls open— you had so many things to say. Where do you begin? How do you begin? You didn’t want to die! You haven’t seen Ghost in person yet! You had to hear his sexy voice in person!

“Let’s start from the beginning.” You wave your hand around. Price folds his arm waiting.

“I was walking home and fell out of the sky and here I am.”

“Love that’s bullshit.”

“Mofo I locked eyes with a motherfucker, he saw me fall and go out there, he can confirm it!” You yell.

“Two, I think I’m from another dimension.” The two stared at you and then turned to each other.

“Your fucking crazy,” Price snaps grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to a room and shoving you inside. “You are under confinement by the military.”

“Well….” A few hours pass you and where terribly bored Soap took your phone without you even noticing. Your mind races around, how did you even get here?

The door opens and four people step inside. You felt yourself smirking and tried to swallow that smile. You look down, all of them are here. How fun.

“Hello, John Price, Johnny MacTavish, Kyle Garrick, and lastly the famous Ghost— Simon Riley—”

“How do you know our fucking names?” Ghost barks, you feel a shiver run down your spine, and smile uncontrollably again.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Nothing—” you hunch over cackling, you really need to get your nervous laughter under control.

“Tell is!” Price snaps his irritation visible.

“It’s just… your video game characters for me. from my world.”

“You are insane—”

“Kyle you joined the British army in 2014, Ghost joined after 9/11, Soap you met Price in 2014. Am I wrong?” You ask them getting serious, and they look at each other.

“Alright say you are from another world and we are video game characters to you, why does it matter if General Shepard has a mustache or not?” Soap folds his arms still hung up on your lash out.

“Simply I needed to know what timeline I was in.”

“Alright you are crazy,” Price growls storming up to you.

“The game you are part of is called Call of Duty, it’s a point-and-shoot game made for boys and men. It is all about war and the military. There was the original timeline and the reboot, I had to know which one.” Soap touched Price's shoulders and pulled him back. He was probably the best to ask questions.

“Alright, which timeline are we in?” Soap looks down on you, with cold eyes that turn you on.

“The reboot.”

“You preferred the reboot—”

“You all died in the original timeline.” Your words shut them up. They had this look of shock. They turn to each other, maybe you are crazy you seem crazy. They had nothing to say.

“What does this have to do with his mustache—”

“It’s how I associate things in my mind.” Soap slowly nods, a weird association but he got it. He also has particular associations, this was yours.

“One I ask if Gaz was black because in the other timeline he was white?”

“I WAS WHITE?” Gaz yells shock written all over his face. He looked shocked and bewildered. His mouth hung open and he looked pale.

“YOU WERE WHITE AND THAT TURN ME FOR THE LOOP!” You yell back feeling the hype again. “You were also a background character, not really important.”

“You were killed right in front of a helpless Soap.”

“I—”

“Ghost you were shot from point-blank range and your body burned, you were betrayed. I miss you, Roach.” Ghost reached his hand out— he needed clarification.

“Soap dies in your hands Price and you were severely injured. and implied died from it”

“Wait wait wait!” Soap interrupts “Let’s go back to Gaz, I watched him die?”

“Yes.” Soap turns to Gaz who looks back there is shock in their eyes. They seem to share a little moment together.

“You said I was betrayed, who?” Ghost asks next.

“You should sit down,” you comment. This Ghost was less trusting or maybe the same as the old Ghost but it’s best if he sits.

“I’m fine,”

“Ok.” You stand up and look him in the eyes, “You were with a comrade who’s not in this reboot called Roach. He was shot in the chest and you were shot in the head.” You explain calmly.

“By who?” Ghost demands again.

“General Shepard.” The room grew dead quiet. Ghost uncrossed his arms in shock.

“Also in that timeline, I think World War 3 happens.” You casually state.

“You think?” Soap snap.

“I never played the original one, but I remember my brother’s behavior after, he was mourning.”

“What happened to the general after he killed me?” Ghost quietly asked.

“Soap stabbed in in the left eye killing him.” Ghost nods his head, at least his killer died.

“You said Soap dies in my arms, how.”

“Severe blood loss acting getting majorly injured for the 3rd time.”

“Man, that’s…”

“Lame?” You finish Soap’s words he nods and looks a little disappointed.

“Price continues on the mission but at the end, he is implied to be dead. He died smoking a cigar.” Soap and Gaz chuckle and turn to Price.

“Who killed me?” Price asks.

“Russian terrorist.”

“Alright… this timeline who dies.” Soap folds his arms ready to hear the most gut-wrenching stuff.

“None of you died.” Soap let out a long sigh and turned to the others with a smile. Gaz nods his head in a sigh of relief. “But that shouldn’t make you too happy don’t get careless.”

“How do we believe you?” Price finally spoke up. You look around, At the start of the game, all of them have known each other for a long.

“I know you found American missiles with a terrorist group.” The air turns hostile, how do you know this?.”

“Your next stop is Amsterdam… say hi to Alejandro for me.” You smile and sit back down leaning back with a smile.

“If you know the future, tell us!”

“Go to Amsterdam I don’t remember the cartel but the next place after Amsterdam is Mexico. I’m telling the truth if you don’t believe me go. I can't give you all the information I don’t remember but I can tell you the major plot points. Come back when you're done.”

They turn back to you before leaving. As the door closes you collapse onto the bed and begin to giggle, you’re living the high life. Hot military men all around you. Ghost even talked to you that’s all that matters. They will be back, of course, they come back. They need to know more and you can enlighten them.

---------

1.2K

Immortal Shenanigans

Chapter 1: Pots and Bullets

Pt. 2, Pt.3

Warning: mild violence.

You stare into the darkness and frown. You had finally remembered the location of your first-ever temple, your pride and joy. At last! But all of your Gold, Statues, and mercury river was gone! What was left were thousands of years old footprints of the thieves who robbed you.

You sigh and walk around with your flashlight in hand. You fell in through a trap door and forgot how to get out. It’s been over 5,000 years and your memories of this time long faded into the back of your mind. You walk around before stopping your eyes widen as joy sets in.

Your pots!

They survived. They were rudimentary and shabbily made, but for the time it was the best. You looked at them and gently picked on up, it was used for wine when mortals bestowed God-hood onto you. It was so long ago, to be worshiped, what bliss.

“AAAAHHH!” You turn around to see the trap door closing and a new figure with you.

“What the fucking hell was that?” The man with a Mohawk grumbles. “Hello! Anyone here me?” He shouts before walking around. He’s like a mad toddler throwing a tantrum. You giggle and he twirls around gun in hand.

“Aaah!” He screams. “What are you doing down here?”

“This is my temple.” You casually reply. It was your temple, the temple of Hauhet. Many believe you were Hauhet, the goddess of eternity.

“Your temple?” He asked his accent strong and annoyed.

“My temple,” you repeat. He stared at you with a look that called you dumb in every language possible.

“What are you a grave robber?”

“Excuse me, child! I am an Antique collector! I fell down here just like you!” You snap annoyed this young man was back talking you.

“I’m pretty sure I’m older than you,” he states looking you up and down. You give him a stink eye, of course, he thinks he’s older, you haven’t aged past the age of 20. You had long lost your actual age or the date of your birthday. You roughly believe you are 5,000 years old maybe a tad younger, you couldn’t remember.

“I look very young for my age!”

“Yeah, sure.” He turns away and begins to talk to someone, The smart man had a radio or phone on him, either way, you would have eventually gotten out of there, maybe taken you a century but you’d get out.

“Ghost do you copy?”

“Affirmative, it appears I fell down a trap and there’s a random lady done here with me.” His strong accent, Scottish from the sounds of things was talking to a fool called Ghost.

You sit down on your throne as old memories of your culture seep back into your mind. The strong smell of the river, of lotus. The heavy sweet taste of honey. You remember the scent that used to adorn your skin the Kyphi only used for a god. Whenever you smell saffron it hits you like a truck.

You could no longer remember the memories but your heart never forgot the sensation of those times long passed. You open your eyes to see the man staring at you.

“You look comfy.”

“It’s my throne.”

“How long have you been down here for?”

“A day at most, at least an hour? Time moves by fast for me.” You wiggle your fingers at him, he nods.

“You fell down the trap?”

“Yup, I was digging around and fell through,” You explain shrugging and looking down at him. He was mildly handsome.

“There is an escape somewhere here…”

“How do you know that?”

“This is my temple!” You state for the again. The man rolls his eyes.

“And where would this exist be?”

“I don’t remember, this place is about 5,000 years old, I’ve forgotten.” The man sighs and walks around.

“This place is shit for a temple.”

“It used to be filled with so much gold it lined every wall.” He turns to me shocked.

“And what happened?”

“Thieves.”

Soap looked at the girl, she was no older than a teenager. Her clothes look like she shopped at a thrift store, specifically the old lady section. She sat on that throne like she owned it, her crazy ramble might be due to dehydration. She could also be a spy for the opponent.

“What’s your name?”

“Which one?” You cock your head to the side and gaze down at him.

“Your real name.”

“I have many “real names” be more specific.”

“Which name are you using right now?”

“We’ll I have several.” The man glared and walked off. He groans, he is dealing with an absolute weirdo.

The trap door was activated and light shone into this hidden temple. You stand up and walk under the light. The sun felt great on your dark skin.

“Soap you down there?” A gruff-sounding man pokes his over the hole.

“Affirmative.” A rope was dropped down. And soap walks behind you. “After you.” You grimace but climb the rope using just your arms. Your legs dangle like dead weight.

Another man helps you up, and behind you, Soap (another dumb name in your opinion) climbs up to the surface. You look over to see a man with a skull mask on.

“What took you so long?”

“I was looking for the damn trigger.”

“I literally told you where it was.”

“Are you two married?” You asked rearing your arm against your knees and stared at this with a devious smile. They turn to you with a glare.

“No!” A smug smile spreads across your lips, they are funny. You stand up and put on your backpack that you stowed under the sand.

“Well you two love bird have fun, I need to return to my—“

“You're coming with us.”

“Eh?”

The next thing you know you’re strapped down to a chair surrounded by 4 big guys. You would have laughed if it wasn’t for the gun pointed at your head— actually, you didn’t care. This situation seems so porn esc.

You look up trying to stop yourself from laughing. You fail and you begin to cackle like a hyena. Tears roll down your face. “Oh meh gawd this is funny!” You say between a gasp of air.

“What’s your name?” The man with incredible facial hair asked you, a cigar in hand. Your laughter stopped and you gave into the man’s face.

“I have many, be more specific.” You tease. You know how this looks, you had many names, you’ve lied so much you long forgot names you give people who might remember you.

“The main one you used.”

“I have like 5 in rotation.”

“What are they!” He bellows, You gaze at him coldly, barely fazed.

“Mary, Nina, Mia, YN, and Pot stealer.” Soap unfolded his arm, did his ears deceive him?

“Pot stealer?” Ghost mutters.

“Now I have to ask, why’d you steal pots?”

“I like pots!” You tell Soap. He stared into my face before covering his and laughing his ass off.

“You can not be serious!”

“Look old people are ruthless when it comes to antique collecting, they always like to throw the term thief. It’s not my fault I’m rich!” You complain. Soap drops to his knees laughing so hard he couldn’t even stand.

“How many— how many pots do you have at home?” Soap asked through gasps.

“Like a thousand or two thousand, I’m not a math guy.” You wiggle your fingers. The binding on your hands is tight. It was constricting the flow of blood.

“YN? She went missing a week ago?” The cigar man mumbles.

“A week? Pogs! Huh, time really does pass by fast.” You smile nodding my head. It was an accomplishment, this is the shortest time you’ve been stuck somewhere no one could find me.

“How are you still alive?”

“…I don’t know.” You truly have never figured out how you became immortal. Just one day you stop aging and never age past that point. You have seen husbands, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren die, yet you were frozen in time.

“How don’t you know?”

“I’m immortal.” Everyone stared at you with eyes that said it all. You are stupid and a little bit crazy in the head.

“Yeah right.”

“So you really think you're immortal?” The mustache man asked.

“Shoot me in the head and you’ll see,” I state back.

“The news reports you’re a photographer, yet why would a photographer have many names?” Ghost asked walking around you.

“For shits and giggles.”

“I think she’s a spy.”

“I was—“

“So you are a spy!”

“Bro, literally what you just did was like calling a thirty-year-old who used to work at a Starbucks in their teens barista, it’s insulting. I haven’t been a spy since the 70s!” You shout.

“That’s like,” you begin to count on your fingers, “that’s like 50 years ago!”

“Did you have to count?” Soap asked.

“I’m not a math person!”

“Either way your sketchy.”

“That is true!”

“Or delusional.”

“That is also very true!”

“She might be working with the enemy.” The only black man said.

“That is less true but go off.”

“For someone who claims to be thousands of years old you sure do know a lot of pop culture words.”

“I feel really connected with this generation. Their want to die is such a valid emotion. Also, I might be old but I’m also 20, so I know shit.”

“She’s crazy.”

“What do you want me to sound like the Bible? Dost thou well to be angry for the gourd?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thou hast had pity on the gourd!”

They all stare at you confused. Soap opened his mouth and closed it, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m asking you do you expect me to sound medieval?”

“Yes.”

“Art thou a muttonhead?” You state with a bored expression.

“Did you call me dumb?”

“Yay.” You nod your head. If they wanted vintage language you’ll give them Shakespeare flashback.

“If thy willa eald then thine becuman eald.” You state speaking English was a massive gulf ball in your cheeks. It was a mix of the older version of English. It didn’t matter which age it came from if it’s vaguely understandable that’s good enough.

(If you want old then you’ll get old.)

“What?”

“Sceotan me dead, and thy wilt seon.”

(Shoot me died, and you will see.)

“Speak modern English!”

“Imma lives rent-free in your head because I hit different, I’m a whole ass vibe check! And that’s on periodt.” You quickly state. “Y’all being so extra about this it ain’t it, chief. I’m not sus I’m not capping. But this entire situation is sending me!”

“What— what?”

“I don’t know I’m just saying stuff.”

“That’s enough,” the cigar man snaps his patients at its wit’s end.

“Oh poor fool, are you getting tired of me?” You tilt your head before smiling.

“Are you working with the Russian?”

“I’m not snitching on my buddies,” You had no clue what he was asking but you decided to play along. Life has long lost its sparkle. You chose many names and many identities just to amuse yourself. When you fall through the creaks of the lies seeing the world crumble around you is entertaining.

Bang!

You slump over. The world turns dark. You blink and you are alive. You kept your head down. Blood oozed from your head. And the loud complaints of the men make you smile.

“Oi,” you loudly call out causing a few to jump. They turn to you eyes wide in horror. They turn to each other, “Can ya untie me, I really need to get that bullet out my head.” You tilt your head casually to the side.

“I’m waiting.”

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1.8K words

First stupid idea idk if anyone will see this lol

If you want more please tell me!

Would anyone be interested in a COD fic where they meet a weird immortal?

Stupid idea

Would anyone be interested in a fic where Konig falls in love with a science experiment who's the mother of monsters?

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