#cod modern warfare iii 2023

[temeyes]

biker ghost? biker ghost.

[welldonekhushi]

The fate of the Soaps.

Finally back with drawing after overcoming a tricky exam! It's so weird that I get the most inspiration when it's the month of exams..

Anyways! I'm back with an.. angsty art, ahem. Featuring Sergeant Johnny "Soap" MacTavish and Captain John "Soap" MacTavish, with illustrations of how they possibly died in the events of Modern Warfare.. I'm sorry, I too was sad when I was drawing it.. (╥_╥)

I remember an artist who also drew the same concept with different characters, so I would like to credit them mostly for the inspiration!

But, I had fun doing this art! Now, I'm just gonna run away.. (ﾟ⁠οﾟ⁠人⁠)⁠)

Here's the full art along with the lineart version, without dividing! I hope you like it! <3

[blingblong55]

Healing -Vladimir Makarov

A/N: this is not me telling you how reader looks^

Based on a request:

i love love LOVE the great war. i’m foaming at the mouth for a part 2 BUT can you maybe do something with vlad and his love taking a bath while he reads her poetry or something along the lines. again love your work you truly are amazing 🌷

---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, poetry read, pregnant!reader ----

It's been a long day, Vladimir and you haven't seen each other since you left bed. And now, as you walk inside your home, he greets you with a warm meal. "Ah, the girl I have been waiting for." He walks to you, wrapping you in his hold. "What's all this about?" you ask curiously. His hand on your belly, "I think my sweet wife deserves a treat, after all, you did some hard work today." He teases. "Shopping is a sport," you kiss his cheek and he guides you to the warm kitchen. For months since he found out he would become a father, he gave you a credit card, 'spend it on you and our little one.' he said and every day, he sends you out with at least two of his men to buy at least ten things.

He wanted this all to be a thank you, for turning his life around and giving him a new purpose and as you both eat a meal he so carefully cooked with love, he finds himself admiring you. You look up, insecure for some reason until he smiles. "Did you know you are the kind of woman men write poems about?" He continues eating and you feel yourself blushing and a rush of happiness. One thing about your husband is that he knows what to say and how to make you feel, especially, now that you carry your first child.

You look at him, "What have you so….happy today?" He shrugs, "I have many reasons to be happy. I have you, my lovely wife, today all went well, we have a son arriving in a few months and did I mention I have a lovely, beautiful, small and incredibly amazing wife?" You smile and look away. "I mean it, love. I seriously thank you for being part of my life so please just accept all my love because trust me, pretty girl, no one else can get this."

After that much-needed meal, he offers a bath. And as he warms the water for you both, he watches mesmerised as you undress in front of him. Your beautiful body is all for his gaze to admire. For some reason, Vladimir couldn't help but feel a gush of emotions, all good ones of course. The way the room lit up, showcasing all your beautiful features and there was him, watching a goddess undress. It was like a schoolboy, the feeling he had, blushing and looking away from how excited you made him. To others, it's nothing to see your beloved undress anymore but to him, this was a privilege.

They always portray men like him as heartless men with no soul behind their evil loving gaze but if you look closely, there it is, the warm fire that still shines through. "Get in the tub, my love," his voice was always so soft with you. It was comedic how it changed when he spoke to those who aren't you. He was always so cold to others but when he turned to you, gave you one glance or one word, his voice was pure and soft. His hand holding yours as you get in. Hold it until you sit down in the tub. The second he let go, as he walked to the counter of the bathroom, his hand flexed. He was anxious in many ways and for good reason since you had changed the man he was before.

In his hands was the old book of poems he collected of his favourite poets or wrote himself. The book was old, but the words inside were worth more than anything in the world. As he sat down, he could feel the warmth of your back to his chest. You laid against him, finding comfort in his embrace and in some romantic way, this was professing love with unspoken words. His free hand playing with your hair as he holds the book of poems. "Let's see my love, what poem shall I read you today?"

You point towards one. "First Love by John Clare," the title wrote. "Very well, my love." he kisses your head and begins. "I ne’er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked, what could I ail? My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away, The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start— They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice? Is love’s bed always snow? She seemed to hear my silent voice, Not love's appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling-place And can return no more."

His voice throughout the poem so steady, and clean and expresses the same emotion the poem itself meant to convey. He places the book on the small shelf by the tub, his arms wrapping you in a loving embrace. "Did you like it?" Vladimir's head resting on your shoulder as his hands caress your belly. "Mhm…I loved this one." your voice was soft as you began to relax with him. "Good, my love," he whispers before kissing your shoulder, one of his hands so delicately lifting your hair as the other writes on your back.

"I- L-O-V-E- Y-O-U" his fingertips spell out. You try and figure out what the message was but before you begin to think, you feel his soft and warm lips kiss the back of your neck. To him, this was the most beautiful thing lovers could do that also meant intimacy. Sitting in a tub, looking out a window that brings light to the bathroom, reading poetry and then doing something like this, kissing your neck with nothing but love, rubbing the same belly that carries his child. And then you got it, "I love you too, Vlad," you lean back, your head turning and your lips meeting his.

It was as if no other worry could bother either of you. Being here, that is what counts and in the darkest corner of his heart, he feels all those old wounds and worries heal. This is real, this moment in time, that is what feels so unreal to those who can't have this privilege but to both of you, this is real, it's love to its simplicity.

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @liyanahelena @selarus @kielsegur @mseccentricks @johfaam0 @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frazie99 @viomast @vampsquerade @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

[bravo-seven]

"I'm up to doin' my fuckin' job, kid. You should try it sometime."

MW3 gifs 5/?

[shadeops21]

With MWIII's Campaign around the corner, it'll be inevitable that people will want to post about the story and plot.

Please, do everyone a favour and do one of two things:

DO NOT POST ABOUT IT. DON'T. Before you hit "Post now", please sit back and think: "Would Capt Price/Soap/Ghost/Gaz/[blorbo] approve of this action?" And then hit "close".

If you cannot contain the urge, please for the love of everything that is respectable, include SPOILER TAGS and other spoiler mitigation tools such as "read more" dividers, spoiler tags, etc.

Don't be Makarov.

This has been a public service announcement.

[peachesnbees]

FIRST & LAST CINEMATIC CUTSCENE APPEARANCES OF JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH from COD: MWII (2022) & COD: MWIII (2023)

BONUS (technically his last appearance):

[sstormyskyess]

Night Terrors

author's note: this is shorter than i'd like but i'm still happy about how it turned out 👍 enjoy!

cw: hurt/comfort, nightmares, canon-typical violence

word count: 1500+

John “Soap” MacTavish / GN!Reader "Brass"

The sky was pitch black while you and Soap waded through the wet mud of the marshy surroundings. “How much longer until we get there?” You groan. Your feet were pruned in your boots, the wetness seeping in through the fabric parts. The target building still wasn’t in sight yet.

“Ten minutes. Less if you stop whining and get your arse in gear.” Ghost’s voice crackles through your receiver and you huff, rolling your eyes. Soap chuckles and glances back at you, shrugging his shoulders. “L.T.’s got a point, Brass. You’d be fair puckled too, though, Ghost. We’re a’ Jock Tamson’s bairns.” You groan. “I don’t know what that means, Soap. Neither of us do.” Ghost hums in agreement.

“You’re just uncultured! You should read up on it in your spare time.” Soap shakes his head. “Just keep walking, MacTavish.” Ghost says, deadpanned. You could almost see the look on his face in your head, making you chuckle. “Aye, L.T.—let’s go Brass!” Soap declares, marching on his merry way.

Getting to the target’s location felt like a breeze from there. Almost too easy. Soap shook that strange feeling off, though; he had a job to do. He stared up at the towering building in front of you both. It was around 40 floors if he had to estimate. He turns to you and nods. “You ready to go?” He approached the busted automatic glass doors and pried them open with your help.

It was surprisingly easy to clear each floor. No major threats, only a few lone shooters and a turret or two. Ghost had gone quiet on the other end of the line, though; that was really the only thing he was concerned about. You were also silent beside him. It was rare for him to get anxiety on a standard mission, but for some reason, his heart was racing.

You make it to the top floor—still silent—and still haven't managed to identify the target. But they had to be here, so if the intel was solid, they were on the roof. Soap stands below the ladder up to the roof, the full moon shining down and covering them in a muddled white light. He looks over at you and motions for you to take first position.

He follows as you climb your way up and scans for threats. You take his hand to help him up and immediately start to walk further onto the rooftop. You didn’t make it very far before a gunshot pierced your ears and he was flat on his back, a bullet through his shoulder. “Fuck—!” Your head shoots up to see the assailant and growl. “You son of a bitch!” You hiss, rushing towards them: the target you were on the hunt for.

“Brass, wait!” Soap shouts, scrambling to his feet and following you. He readies his weapon, but you were already grappling with them. Their gun had been tossed to the floor and you were on top of them, a hand at their throat. Everything happened so fast, and he’s stuck, frozen as he watches the both of you fight. It was like he couldn’t get his feet to move or his finger to the trigger, no matter how hard he tried.

All of a sudden, you lost the upper hand and you’re in a chokehold, struggling against their grasp. You grunt and your feet kick out, trying to knock your attacker off balance and ultimately failing. You were getting hauled to the side of the roof before Soap knew it.

The target was saying something, but the blood in his ears was rushing, and he couldn’t hear a word of it. All he could see was your limbs start to stop their squirming and your eyes drooping. Your hands loosen around their arm and eventually fall to your sides.

Somehow, even through his blinding panic, he heard your voice force out a choked whimper of his name, “Soap, h-help…” But he still couldn’t move. He tried to force himself into action and he was still glued to the floor, staring. He watches you get thrown to the ground, halfway to passed out, and the target puts their foot on your side, shoving it into your ribs.

You claw at the floor, trying to drag your way over to Soap, but it was too late. You were getting rolled off, and then you disappeared behind the lip of the edge, out of sight. “Fuckin’ hell—Brass!” Soap couldn’t do anything but watch as you fell over the edge of the skyscraper’s roof railings. A forty level drop.

The sickening crunch of your bones on the forest floor below is clear as day, the sound sending a rolling wave of nausea through his body. He shivers, eyes wide, and the blinding moonlight takes over his vision.

You groan quietly when you feel the bed shifting to your right. You turn over, fully ready to tell him to settle down because you were trying to sleep, but you frowned when you saw Soap in the state he was in. A deep sigh passed your lips while you watched Soap toss and turn. There was a sheen of sweat coating his skin and it sounded like he was muttering something to himself in his sleep. Nightmare.

No one in this line of work could honestly say they’d never had a nightmare about the experiences they’ve faced, and if they did, you wouldn’t believe them for a second. This job put people through the most hellish situations and scenarios that the human mind could possibly conjure; it was only natural for one’s mind to continue processing those events even into the late hours of the night.

You lift yourself up and over Soap’s chest, plopping yourself down on top of him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You sigh again, listening to the rapid heartbeats under your ear. You knew it was a little dangerous to try and shake him awake, so you settle for this. Maybe being a human compression blanket would help just a bit.

When your weight had no effect, you resign yourself to the fact that you’d have to wake Soap up to stop the painful dream plaguing his mind. You don’t move from your spot on his chest, but you start to jostle him a bit. “Soap, wake up, bud.” You make sure your voice isn’t loud enough to be startling but just enough to breach the barrier between Soap’s unconsciousness and the world of the living. “It’s okay, John. Wake up for me.”

It takes a few tries, but eventually Soap’s eyes snap open and his body instinctively tries to jolt up before being stopped in place by you lying on top of him. “Whuh... huh? What…?” His breathing is heavy when he starts to fully wake up. He lifts himself up on his elbow and stares down at you. Soap feels his eyes start to water when your eyes meet and he quickly wraps his arms around you, holding your head tightly to his chest. 

You hum softly and bring your hand up to pet the back of his head. Your heart breaks a bit when you feel Soap trying to hold back sobs. "I'm right here. You're safe." You mumble into his shirt, running your blunted nails along his scalp and through his mussed up hair. You let him have a moment to get control of his breathing before you pulled away and tried to sit up.

"Just let me hold you for a minute,” Soap pulls you back down to his chest and holds you tight against his body. “Please.” His words devolve into a whimper at the end. You nod against his chest, feeling Soap’s thick fingers stroking the back of your head, trying to calm himself down. You were determined to keep yourself awake until Soap was able to get back to sleep as well, keeping your eyes open even though you body was pulling him back to unconsciousness. Soap caressing you definitely wasn’t helping. But, it felt nice to hold and be held by someone.

Being on duo missions with Soap frequently ended up like this: holding each other at night just to finally get to sleep. There were many times that you would try and play it off with some random excuse. Something like ‘It’s cold out here, and you’re the warmest thing I’ve got around,’ or ‘There’s not enough room in here to sleep on the floor, just get in here,’ had been twisted and morphed to fit whatever situation you found yourselves in. As time went on, though, it was near impossible to try stopping yourself from just admitting you were just touch starved and needed someone to help you out with that.

You stay like that for a while until Soap’s breathing finally evens out enough for him to speak without his voice breaking. "I'm sorry I woke you up.” His words are muffled by the top of your head, where his face is buried. He brings one of his arms up to wipe his eyes before settling it back by his side, letting his other arm handle holding you. You hid your smile in his chest and let out a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it, Suds.”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[applbottmjeens]

Getting his Annie back (slowly and surely)

[mutantthedark]

Since I had fun with OC x Canon ask game, have a sketch of Soap and Sigma.

I couldn't stop listening to "Fourth Of July" by Surjan Stevens because that song is so soothing (o´Д`)

(SOAP SURVIVED COUNTDOWN MISSION BISHES)

[whateverfiction]

About to start wars, let’s embrace the chaos.

Choose a mask.

[temeyes]

feeling way too deeply for him again

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Me if Price dies :

Me if Gaz dies :

Me if Ghost dies :

Me if Soap dies :

Me if Farah dies :

Me if Alex dies :

Me if Laswell dies :

Me if Nikolai dies :

[welldonekhushi]

I know. The third Modern Warfare would likely be our ultimate downfall, even mine. But don't worry, I have something to cheer you up! 141 but as chibis! ✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

These chibi designs of the 141 were actually for my keychains for the upcoming Comic Con! But, since we realised the stall was expensive to put up, we had to scrap the idea. Though I still have these adorable designs with me and decided to post them here, finally!

I hope you like it and, let's wait for the early access campaign! (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

[summermoonshine]

Wow... Just Wow... You'd think in the post The Last of Us Part II world game developers would think twice before killing off a main character people were yearning to play again. I thought Activision knew better and since they didn't do anything of the sort in MWII, the boys are safe. Gosh, I was so excited, I just wanted to have a good time and see what's new with my buddies from 1-4-1. Fuck this, I'm exhausted

Dear Anon, I've got so much to say to the point I felt the need to distance myself from the fandom immediately after completing the campaign. I am emotionally devastated, and as crazy as it sounds, it was vital to me that AV gave Soap another chance after mw3. Sure, it's a war videogame and deaths are therefore inevitable, but killing the same character twice with the sole hope of making us hate Makarov so as to have more hype for the next COD (which, personally, I doubt will follow this arc since I define it now concluded although there are still unresolved issues) it was a stupid move to make, because by doing so we are hating AV, not Makarov himself.

Furthermore, what is most infuriating is that if the COD family has started to be so lively, creative and enthusiastic again in ways that it wasn't even 20 years ago, it is above all thanks to Saop.

Each of the protagonists in MWII was perfect, earning a special place in our hearts, but it is clear that Soap and the relationship established with Ghost were the catalyst of definitive affection that connected us so deeply to the reboot, leading us to buy even a new game that, more than a campaign, more than a DLC, is a scam:

rushed dialogues, too many characters piled on top of each other, typical warzone game dynamics with such a short duration that each level becomes chaotic etc etc etc... 2, maximum 3 hours later, we find ourselves with a Soap killed, slaughtered and left to die with total dullness and without any emotional focus DURING our game without even receiving a cutscene dedicated to him. And, as if that wasn't enough, by killing him, Ghost was also indirectly killed: for once, perhaps for the first real time, that man - always represented as cold - had found a family and something, someone to hold on to: taking it away from him , they demolished two people with a single shot.

Atrocious.

Treating one of the characters who has practically supported the entire current COD fortune on his shoulders in this way is, for me, a great injustice, as well as a stupid move.

Again, I don't hate Makarov; I hate AV.

Also, I apologize for the outburst, but after 20 years of supporting the COD saga, I never expected them to play so dirty with reboots.

I'll make a separate post when I find the courage, but for now thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about it openly.

[bravo-seven]

another fun exchange :)

Soap: "Big fucking boat."

Ghost: "Money can't buy happiness Johnny..."

Laswell: "I wouldn't mind being sad on that boat."

see also:

Laswell: "No time for a boat ride, Sergeant."

Soap: "Not a bad place to go fishing some day :3"

Ghost: "Get off the boat, Johnny -.-"

Soap: "Just sayin'... :("

[redpool]

IF WHAT I JUST SAW ABOUT MW3 IS REAL, YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKED.