#cod songs

[ghostsbimbo]

call of duty songs

hello!! i've decided to start a little series on my profile where i go through songs i enjoy that make me think of call of duty characters.

first song that's up is masterpiece by motionless in white. here is the normal version, and then the motion picture version. this will be under a read more considering how long this can get.

this song in my opinion is from Ghost's point of view, heavily. cw: talks of rape, ghost comic/backstory spoilers.

All the stupid lies and the stupid games Left a vacancy in this picture frame A prisoner by my own hands 'Cause if I can't have me, then no one can I need to heal what I inflict But I'll burn that bridge when I get to it As I play roulette with a broken gun I confess these sins with a sharp and spiteful tongue

So, the song starts off heavy - emotion wise. If this were written by Simon, I feel as though he'd be definitely talking about the guilt he deals with with everything he had done while being a soldier, including almost being an accomplice to rape with one of his old buddies. It results in him building up walls so new people can't get in. He removes himself from society completely, faking his death and everything else he has done. He uses this to confess all his sins/terrible things he had done.

So how do I apologize And put the tears back in your eyes When every canvas that I paint Is a masterpiece made of my mistakes?

The Chorus; please note, I will only go over this once due to it repeating. I feel like this part would be directed towards his mother in a sense. We agree he's a major mama's boy [ in a loving way. not a derogatory way. ] Considering she knows of what he has done to women since he had alluded to it, he would want to apologize to her for everything he has done that's considered terrible. He feels like he has to.

Outlined in guilt, my portrait stares In a gallery where the walls lie bare As I modernize my antique ways True colors can't escape the brush of fate

For this it would be a metaphorical portrait, of course. His portrait would definitely be in an empty gallery, his family being dead and all. He would always be shifting, changing, just so he fits in and doesn't draw attention to himself, despite being a big beefcake of a man who wears a lot of skeleton themed things which definitely make him stick out like a sore thumb. He knows he can't escape the cruel hand of fate though. Everyone does. His true colors will show at some point, he'll break the Ghost persona. It's only fate that he does.

Illustrate all my pain And set it all ablaze Burn And set it all ablaze

Simon would be talking about all his trauma. taking the trauma of living with an abusive addict of a father in his childhood, the trauma suffered at the hands of Roba, and the trauma of losing his whole family and just throwing it into the fire. Just letting it go and ignoring it - for lack of better words - as the persona of Ghost that he had molded over the years.

So how do I apologize And put the tears back in your eyes When every canvas that I paint Is a masterpiece of my mistakes? And in the light of my demise I see my failures in your eyes Every canvas that I paint Is a masterpiece made of my mistakes

This would be him about the 141 - Mostly Price with the line "I see my failures in your eyes." - I feel like he'd feel like they are judging him for his fuck ups when he does manage to have them. They're the closest thing he can get to approval & family, so they mean a lot to him, more than he lets himself show at least due to the walls he had built to protect himself.

and that's it! if you want more please comment, reblog, like, or send an ask! I really hope this also all makes sense. I did the best I could with this.

[rusticfurnace]

// GHOSTSOAP x sailor song! (🔊 ON ) // suggestive imagery ⚠⚠⚠ individual panels:

[hey-there-hunter]

Show me where the delicate stops

[deunmiu-dessie]

boyfriend!ghost who's just a little bit older. boyfriend!ghost who wears a black leather jacket. boyfriend!ghost who has a bad reputation. boyfriend!ghost who uses you to warm his bed. readers!mama who doesn't trust him. readers! mama who says, "he's only here for one thing," but, so are you. ˙ᵕ˙

"s'too big, si--!! wait!"

simon grips your chin and turns your head to face him, pressing a kiss to your pouty lips, thick cock spearing through your slick, gummy walls, his pierced tip nudging your spongey nerves. “you were jus' begging me earlier, hm? does it feel good sweetheart?”

your dripping cunt clings to him, a creamy ring of cum starting to form on his cock. you whine, lips parting and thighs shaking. your voice fails you, his cock bullying your cervix and punching the words from your throat, only a shamefully loud moan escapes your trembling lips.

simon snickers and covers your mouth with his hand. "don' want y'r mum to hear, do we?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

connected with this post!

[yooo-lets-go]

My brother I’m begging, can we some Ghost being down bad for Soap? I’m on my hands and knees

You keep me under your spell

[al4thea]

With hands stained deep in crimson’s thread, I cradle those I love in red.

[yi3248]

happy birthday simon ghost riley

all the joy and love for you, simon

[uhohdad]

Loser!König has a huge thing for panties ♡

He’s always fantasizing about what pair you’re wearing, ignoring your ramblings while he tries to guess the color and cut hiding beneath your clothes. Too busy undressing you in his thoughts and modeling you in different pairs to find it in him to listen to you. Occasionally he can see the outline of them through your pants - he can’t take his eyes away, drooling over the idea of your ass peeking out the bottoms of your pretty panties.

The first time König worked up the courage to steal a pair from your dirty laundry, he could hardly make it back to his bedroom without painting the inside of his underwear from the friction of his jeans alone. Holding them up and fantasizing about what they would look like filled out with your enticing curves. Balling up the fabric and pressing his nose into your panties with a deep, intoxicating inhale of your scent. It takes all of two pumps of his cock before he’s spilling his finish over his hands, the image of you straddling his face clear in his mind.

He picked out a pair just for you - his favorite, a baby pink with a lace trim, a dainty bow on the front. He knows it’s risky, but he threw them in with a load of your laundry anyway, hoping you’d not think twice of it.

Weeks later, he catches a glimpse of you reaching forward, the hem of your shirt rising and the lace trim on the panties he got you peeking out from your waistband. The sight breaks him, his breaths hitched and every muscle in his body locked and twitching as he stains his underwear with his pent-up finish. ♡

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[lostchildonaisle3]

okay back to my roots

ghoap angst

[lyeofhell]

Short n’ Sweet 🌤️ fem!reader x John Price

╰┈ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ thinking about torturing (teasing) John with some Sabrina Carpenter, MDNI/18+ only, breeding kink lol

mmmmm I’m thinkin about your handsome handyman returning home from deployment in late summer, immediately throwing himself into every home project and ticking off all the boxes on your honey-do list. and while you spend the day cleaning inside, blasting music and dancing about your house - John busies himself with an oil change to your car.

thinkin about twirling your hips as you fold laundry, the carpeted floor buzzing beneath your feet from the thumping bass and you are getting into it, flipping your hair as you unapologetically and very loudly sing about espresso.

thinkin about how you’re too distracted by the music to hear the slam of a car hood, or the familiar steps of heavy boots, or the opening of your front door.

thinkin about John leaning against the doorway, thick arms crossed with a satisfied and eye-crinkling grin as he admires your oblivious form. and it’s not till you hit em with a couple body rolls on the beat that you turn around, damn near jumping out of your skin and whipping him with a kitchen towel when his presence scares you half to death.

John just laughs, reaches out to you in apology and when he finds purchase on your plush hips he mutters something low against your temple like, “don’t stop on my account.”

and part of you wants to push him away but it’s so hard, it’s so hard when he’s like this - his sunkissed, burly chest on full display, sheened with dampened curls while his sweat-drenched shirt is likely discarded somewhere on your front lawn. you run your hands up his pecs to grip the back of his neck and god he smells, he smells like oil and sweat and hard work and John and it’s stupid how intoxicating it is. and he just grips you harder, pulls you close till you feel his belt buckle against your abdomen and you're finding it harder to ignore how low his jeans are hanging on his hips.

thinkin about how he starts to kiss you, dipping his head down to start off soft and slow but he grows hungrier by the second, and that’s when one of his hands comes up to grip the back of your neck, maneuvering your head so you can take his tongue as far as he wants. but before he can get you lying on the sofa, you perk up at the sound of Bed Chem, giggling as you try to get out of his firm hold. you beg and you plead, telling him “I love this song!” and “dance with me!” - and he just shakes his head and smiles, loosening his grip to give his pretty girl a twirl.

thinkin about dancing around him, grinding on his side and poking his nose at

“Who’s the cute guy with the wide, blue eyes and the big bad mm? Like”

until he's pulling your back to his chest, pressing and grinding his crotch against your ass and sweetly kissing your fingers. you make a move to grab his hands, placing your own on top and running them over your chest and down your body when you sing

“How you talk so sweet when you’re doin bad things, that’s Bed Chem”

and when his head dips back down to mouth at your neck you almost let him get what he wants, until you hear that familiar acoustic strumming, and knowing John? oh, you’re already giggling to yourself as you work your way out of his grip again.

thinkin about torturing the absolute hell out of him. twisting in his embrace to innocently interlock your fingers and sway from side to side, occasionally leaning up on your tippy toes to kiss his nose. despite your constant singing he doesn't seem to be paying all that much attention to the lyrics, until...

"One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby"

a look of neutral shock stills his face and you cannot help but laugh. in his startled state you take advantage of him, letting go of his hands to skip around the room and dance like you've had one too many. at some point he starts grinning from ear to ear, watching you like a hawk and slowly stalking your way as you arch your back and shake your ass, or drop to your knees and crawl on the ground...and it's not till you look him dead in the eye and dramatically sing

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, mark your territory, tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one"

that he jumps over the couch to snatch you up; you scream in delight, jumping to your feet and running around the coffee table to avoid his hands and your voice shakes with laughter as you try to get the rest out

"Adore me, hold me and explore me, I'm so fuckin' horny, tell m—"

"Had enough of this," John growls through his amusement and bounds through the living room, boots echoing right behind you until his fingers grip your waist roughly and you squeal, happily squirming and giggling in his sweaty grip.

John is panting as he chuckles, and like an animal he takes you down to the floor with a growl - maneuvering you under him and he’s just got you caged there, his thick, healthy form the only thing in your line of sight. beneath the weight of his body you writhe, and as he grabs both of your roaming wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, his other hand slinks downwards, down down past your tits and your waist and smooths over the sweet, soft pudge of your tummy. his lips press to the corner of your open mouth and he keeps going further, rough fingertips slithering underneath your waistband and that’s when his voice is low - that familiar gravel giving rise to goosebumps on your skin while his breath warms your lips.

“Oh I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

[slippyteas]

༉*.ﾟ𝙏𝙊𝙅𝙄 𝙁𝙐𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙂𝙐𝙍𝙊

♫ “𝘪’𝘮 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘤, ‘𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯”

[babymorte]

sup nerds

[rusticfurnace]

Moon, tell me if I could Send up my heart to you? So, when I die, which I must do

with music :3

[jesncin]

Nobody Else But You~

Yes I'm still redrawing Hellblazer: Dead In America as A Goofy Movie I'm so glad you asked. Johnstantine and Noah Ikumelo are in hell and Going Through It. Refs under the cut.

I wanted to draw this emotional beat but decided to be cheeky and mix it up with that time John went to hell in Dead In America issue 8:

I liked the color scheme and thought it was so funny that there's a calm river moment here too for me to ape off of.

[lemonwrap]

Ghost who plays Soap’s favorite music for him while he’s in his coma, but then one day he plays a song that Soap absolutely loathes and later that week Soap finally wakes up. Ghost swears the song did it

[yooo-lets-go]

I had everything within my reach