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trashy-tries-writing · 1 year

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Part 1: In which the first encounter of Ravine leaves unpleasant or pleasant memories for some of our CoD characters with John Price / Gaz Kyle Garrick / Simon Ghost Riley

Part 2: John Soap MacTavish / König

Part 3: with Phillip Graves / Alejandro Vargas & Rodolfo Rudy Parra

(Totally didn’t cloud his head because I can’t draw his customized helmet)

Warning: I know nothing about the military and stuff😭

If I wrote smt that the characters wouldn’t say, please correct me because I don’t know any slang from their nationalities either or point out any mistakes I have made. LET ME KNOW please! So I can fix them. 😰 I’m not a great writer, especially because I live under a rock so don’t expect too much. Feel free to bash me in the comments if I use a bad/forbidden word from your country, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose🙏💦

Let me know if Ravine passes as a xMale!Reader or a xMale!OC :’))

John Price

Price wanted to leave this hellish place as soon as possible

It was uncomfortably hot that he believed his flesh was oozing down his bones. No one knew what caused this overwhelming heat and the man wasn’t exactly ecstatic to find it out either with the scent of burned flesh hitting him hard on the nose.

Gradually the corpses of the enemy trope increased the deeper he went down the concealed facility. Price grimaces under his breath at the torched faces, skin tissues were burned off which showed the flesh underneath that was still bubbling and sizzling. The blackened chunks of flesh sitting on the ground continued to smolder while what leftover blood turns to steam as it spills from the wound.

Following his gut feeling, Price ends up in a corridor splattered with the blood of the victims he was supposed to spill. Including the objective of this mission, although the label wasn’t plastered on an unmoving, lifeless weapon that Price thought it would when Shepard sent him down in this hellhole.

“Bloody hell- Laswell, I… found the objective.”

The name was plastered on the door of the open cell with a human inside, sitting in front of a pile of corpses that looked like civilians. It- They- were motionless beside the immense heat reeking from its body which left more questions than answers for the bearded man.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Gaz believes Ravine to be a heartless machine.

He watched the masked man run past falling soldiers without wavering in his steps. No reaction as his teammates die before his eyes or struggle until their last breaths. Sees him leave the training room after finishing beating up everyone until exhaustion as they lay on the ground groaning.

Ravine doesn’t care about anything or anyone, and possibly not even himself. He takes orders after orders, sometimes requesting to solo it, as if a team would only drag him through the mud.

Gaz hears the whispers of hatred towards Ravine, how heartless and cold he is. How rude he is with how he answers with one word only. How unnerving it is to be in the room while he just stands there silently, not knowing where he is actually staring at through his helmet he never takes off.

Ravine doesn’t care about anything.

Gaz believed that Ravine was a heartless machine.

He saw Ravine running to the nearest corpse of their fallen brothers and sisters after the mission was done. The tall male scoops them up like broken glass, aloof at getting soiled or that there are special units to collect their bodies coming later. Ravine makes sure to leave no one behind and pile them together next to each other with their possessions as carefully as one could be, before paying his respects.

Gaz heard the heartless Ravine requesting to solo the missions when he deemed it to be too dangerous for the others as the higher ups know Ravine to be capable enough to do it on his own due to being different from any other existing soldiers, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Gaz noticed the soldier rushing back towards the training room with first aids, water, snacks and towels. He peeked inside to discover a relaxed atmosphere with the recruits chatting to each other tiredly, some drinking from their cup and gnawing on the energybar like hungry bears. They were sitting in a line and at the end was the cold Ravine giving them medical care.

The hateful whispers have turned into harmless jabs, whether it be about a new recruit being in trouble for something small as breaking a plate and pushing that soldier towards Ravine as if he was going to play alongside them.

His limited vocabulary was slowly picked up by them. Instead of saying “Yes”, some have started to respond with Ravine’s “Aye”s towards each other. Each time they couldn’t help grin when they see Ravine slouch even more than he already is from their jest.

“Fuck I’m hungry.” He hadn’t intended to say it so loudly, not that anyone was around to hear Gaz anyways. It was late and cold, he couldn’t wait to duck out and make something to eat and throw himself in bed.

But not even an hour later something warm touches his cheek from behind him and he jolts back in surprise from the warmth. He sees Ravine stepping back just as much, before hiding his body behind the corner, his upper part still sticking out with an arm stretched towards him with a bag.

“...Is that for me?”

“Aye.”

He slowly reaches towards the bag, a familiar smell reaching his nose. Gaz couldn’t help but smile when he opened the package with his favorite food and a thermos inside, his stomach growling loudly in urgency to take a bite.

Turning around to thank the man, his words are lost in his throat when the faceless soldier is nowhere to be seen.

Gaz believes that Ravine is a warm person who loves and cares in his own way.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Ghost had been sent off to capture someone from a hideout. It was supposed to be easy but missions always go astray. What else he didn’t account for was the soldier sent by his superior to wipe them all out on the opposite side of the building. This wouldn’t have been a problem if the soldiers knew of each other’s existences.

One of them needed the target alive, the other came for a massacre.

When they crossed paths, shots were fired and when all bullets were gone, knives were raised. While It didn’t matter who died first, it would not end well with either loss. Weren’t it for the chain of commands voice ringing through both of their coms, the machete would have gone through his arm.

Ravine as Ghost came to know, backed away from him and kept that distance throughout the whole operation. Now that he got the go to kill everyone, the lieutenant saw how efficient the other was. No hesitation, no stumbling, no waiting- Ghost let the silent man do what he wanted, out of curiosity what he could do.

The lieutenant started trusting the newcomer more when Ravine jumped behind him without flinching and threw his chained machete at the enemy targeting his back. With a pull the weapon was back into his hands and his head whipped around,Ghost could mentally hear the snap.

His helmet moved in sharp, short turns at the lieutenant until he realized he was eyeing him for injuries beside the ones he himself inflicted on him a few minutes ago.

“All good Ravine. Let’s move.”

Back at their headquarters, Ghost would find little trinkets in front of the room he was currently occupying with a note stuck on it “I am very sorry for almost murdering you.” He knew immediately who this was from, especially since his ‘murderer’ in question has avoided him like the pest.

At first he thought nothing of it besides not liking him very much which happens anywhere in the workspace. But it got out of hand when Ghost came into the kitchen to get some tea and Ravine straight out jumped out the window.

It was the second floor.

Price had sighed into his palm so loudly, his soul could be seen leaving him. “I corner him and I want you to talk to him. He’s letting the guilt eat him up and I can’t let that happen.”

The captain literally shooed the tall man like a cat into his office with Ghost and held him by the collar of his turtleneck to keep him from leaving. For once Ravine stood at his full height and the lieutenant had to tilt his head up.

“Bloody hell…”

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