#there WILL be more of bug cod characters.

[wrylu]

FUCK!!! it's finally done. after a whole day

COD CHARACTERS, but they're B U G S

cw insects!! if you get hibbie jibbies from buggo art or just bugs in general, u can scroll💗

and for those who wanna see the art, it looks better if you click on it and zoom in on it or something :)

the worms in my brain bothered me last night to draw cod characters but they're bugs and this morning i started IMMEDIATELY

at the cost of my fingers, wrists, and hands 🕊

the amount of tags on this one.

[roachy-draws]

hiii where are youu:((

Hii @cricricorner :((

I'm so sorry for just disappearing as long as I did! Schools started again for me, which means I'm back to working, and I used the 2 week long school holiday to have some me time and get back into the things I enjoy (Gravity falls, playing COD, baking, drawing non cod things and sleep ins lol). My motivation for drawing has also just plummeted to the floor and I'm trying to get that back and into my life fully again!

Sorry again for disappearing, my drawing posts may come in big waves or very here and there rn :(💕

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

You're mine, all mine Y/N.

Y/N x COD characters

What happens when someone tries to flirt with you and they don't have a clue that you're not alone?.

For this one I wanted to use Makarov, Soap and König.

Warning: images are not mine, credits to whoever they belong to! Spelling and grammatical errors everywhere, mentions of violence, murder but nothing specific, not a very good text but I hope someone likes it.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Makarov.

You're at the mall just walking while your boyfriend is buying a new pair of chemises as if he needed more, you stopped out of a jewelry store, there's a beautiful set of necklace, earrings and ring, incrustations of ruby and emeralds, it's pure luxury, of course you can ask Vladimir to buy it for you and for sure he will buy it because you deserve the best of the best, but, no, it's too much, too expensive in your opinion, one of the workers had seen you contemplating the jewelry and not only that, he's too focused on your beauty and that perfect body shape, oh god, he's devouring you with his eyes. You're ready to keep walking when he approaches you.

- Good morning, I see that you liked this ruby and emerald jewelry set, would you like to try it?

- Oh no, i bet it is too expensive, there's no need...

- I insist, you have a very long neck, come on darling, such a beauty like you needs beautiful accessories...

He actually doesn't even care if you buy or not he only wants to know you better, flirt, poor little guy, he doesn't have a clue of who your man is.

At the end he convinced you. You send a quick text to Vladimir to let him know where you are, while this guy asks you about your name, your work and other stuff, he thinks you're single, you already tried to mention your relationship status but he talks a lot.

Finally the necklace rests around your neck and looks beautiful over your chest, you're beautiful, you want it, of course you want it, you need to have it. But still, no, you still believe it is a lot of money for something like that.

- What do you think? Do you like it?

He runs his hands over your shoulders, you try to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of them.

- Of course I like it, but as I said before... (You sighed) I bet it costs a fortune.

- I'm not gonna lie, it is, but maybe I can give you a good discount, huh.

You look at him clearly in confusion, why would he do that?

- Why would you do that?

- Because you're very beautiful and because I have to sell it. So it's a way to help each other, don't you think?... Of course I will just ask you a little favor.

He presses your shoulder while he observes you with a malicious look.

- Excuse me?

You put the necklace carefully on the box where it was, this is not going in a friendly way, maybe it's time to mention Makarov.

- A dinner, that's all I ask in exchange.

- Oh I have a boyfr...

- Love?

Both turn back and Makarov is standing on the door. You walk to him and kiss his lips.

- Did you find something?

He asked, You try to avoid the uncomfortable moment with the poor seller and quickly you tell Makarov about the necklace and how expensive it is.

- It's beautiful... But the price doesn't convince me...

Makarov is observing the set cautiously while you explain, for a moment it looks like it's only you and him In the store, until the other guy speaks.

- Oh well, if you think it's too much I have some other cheaper if the money is the problem.

He looks pissed but not as Makarov, your man observes this guy as if it was a bug, ready to put his expensive pair of shoes over his throat to suffocate him.

You think he will punch this stupid guy, so without thinking you mention that he was talking about the discount.

- Babe, this... Young boy was telling me about a discount...

- Ahhh, really? In exchange of what?

Makarov looks at the young man in front of him, he's not happy, he intimidates just with that look.

- Sorry sir, I didn't know you were with (y/n)...

Fuck, you messed up, but you keep quiet. Vladimir looks like he wants to kill this man, how he dares to even call you by your name, where's the respect?.

- I see, well, the money is not a problem, I'll buy it...

- But, honey...

- Shh, you deserve it my love. Even better, I'll buy all you have in this store. Right now.

There are no words, Makarov looks pleased to buy you every object of the store, for a second you think he won't lose his mind killing this man or something. The bags and boxes are in the car, you don't think clearly, you're in shock. He opens the door for you and then he pretends he forgot something in the store so he asks you to wait.

Twenty minutes later he's back, once you're at home he's watching the news when you listen what happened at the mall.

«In other news, the mall will be closed this weekend, Police will be investigating the murdered and fire at the jewelry store, The owner can't explain what could happen, the cameras were sabotaged, the corpse found belongs to the seller on shift...»

- Vlad, what did you do?

- Love, You can't be serious. Do you really think I would let that guy alive? No one who doesn't respect you or me can live long enough.

Soap.

Johnny and you visit the local bar every time he's back in town, you're not the kind of person who enjoys places like this, but for love everybody needs to make little sacrifices.

Johnny leaves you while he quickly goes to get more beer, you're observing the group of men who are singing and playing the old piano of the bar, you can't deny it, it's a funny night, until...

- Hey, can I sit?

A man who you have never seen before is smiling at you, he doesn't wait for your answer and sits.

- Sorry, you can't sit here, I'm waiting for someone...

- Oh I bet he doesn't care, if he leaves you here alone... Anyway, Tell me, what's your name? Can I invite you a drink?

- No thanks, my bo...

- I don't see no one at the sight, come on, tell me your name or give me your number...

You have enough of this shit so you simply stand up, you're leaving the table when this man takes your forearm.

- Hey. Come on, give me something sweet, Dove.

You're ready to respond and curse him when Johnny appears behind you.

- Hey! That's my seat and she/he is mine too. So, fuck off.

- Man, don't be so rude, I think we can share, look at her/him, such a dessert. I wouldn't care about some relays.

This guy is stupid as hell and also very drunk, he doesn't have a clue of who he is provoking, In less than a second you're behind Soap while he breaks the beer bottle on the man's head, a bar fight, the Cherry on the cake.

Lucky for you, the bar owner is a good friend of your parents so at least you will not be kicked out of the place.

After a few punches Soap dragged that guy out of the bar, everybody is in silence, when he comes back he feels eyes on him.

He smiles and yells «Sorry for the inconveniences, but I can't handle well when someone touches my Y/n!»

And as if nothing happened everyone continues the party, the music plays again, the laughs and conversation filled the place again.

Once both are sitting and with beer on your hands again you simply look at Soap, he's a little blushed, he smiles at you and asks why are you giving him that look.

- Am I your (Y/N)?

- Shut up, you know you are, I hate that not many people understand or respect that tho!

You laugh loudly and give him a little kiss on his lips.

König.

König tries his best to not be insecure or jealous when you and him are out doing couple stuff together, he feels like he's too old for you, but you always insist age is just a number, he can't avoid the thoughts of people of your age flirting with you, taking you away from him, poor man, he really tries but some days he simply can't deal with that. And today is one of those days.

Both are at the supermarket, doing your weekly shopping. He went to look for his personal stuff, shampoo, conditioner, body soap, shaving cream, while you decide between two cereal boxes. He loves when you debate with yourself about the products you will take but sometimes you take too long, so he leaves and goes for other things while you finish.

You're observing all the boxes of cereal, you're sure you still have chocolate cereal at home, so the decision is between a healthy option or another sugar bomb.

You're debating In silence when a young man interrupts you.

- Hey, excuse me, can you help me? I don't know where to find the dish soap. I'm Tommy by the way.

- Oh, it's in the aisle 5.

That's all you say and you go back to your internal debate, when once again your thoughts are interrupted by this guy.

- Are you new in town? I think I've never seen you here before.

- No, I live here with my...

- NO WAY! I would remember that beautiful face.

You sighed, clearly annoyed but this man is not getting it. You don't continue the conversation, you simply put both boxes in your cart and continue walking. As a fly, Tommy follows close enough, asking stupid questions, your dry answers apparently don't affect him.

You find an offer about a big box full of heart shaped containers for meals but you can see it well because the box is placed on top.

You're getting angry, this boy keeps talking and asking and doesn't let you think properly. You're always too kind, you can't be rude, it's not in your nature so you try to read what the box of containers have.

Suddenly, a big shadow appears at the corner of the aisle, König is walking to you without paying much attention to what you're doing, he's reading the instructions of a new shaving cream he found.

- DADDY! Where have you been? I need some help here.

You're doing those puppy eyes he loves, so he approaches quickly, meanwhile Tommy is observing how tall your... Wait? You call him daddy, is he your father or is your boyfriend? These days it is hard to guess it.

König takes the box of containers so you can read better about what it has, while you read König finally notices Tommy's presence. With a dark look and clearly jealous he simply asks...

- Can we help you?

Tommy doesn't respond but you talk for him.

- Ah, Daddy this is... Mmm sorry I forgot your name, Bobby?

- Tommy.

- Ah, sorry, well, Tommy asked me if I knew where the dish soap was.

- So what? Can't he find it by himself?

- Yeah..., no, I mean... Well, I have to go... (He looks on your direction avoiding the jealous look König is giving him) but if your father doesn't mind can I have your number?.

He's brave... But an idiot too, looks so weak and tiny his body could easily break, that's what König thought after he heard that question. But wait... Did he say 'Father'?.

You and König look at each other and then you laugh, while König blushes and gets angrier at the same time. The young man does not understand why you laugh.

- Sorry, am I losing something?

- He is not my father, he's my...

- I'm her husband, now fuck off, rotzig. (snotty-faced)

The young boy quickly leaves without protest, meanwhile you look at König with your pretty puppy eyes full of joy and bright.

- Why are you making that face, Mein Schatz?

- Are you my husband now?

He smirks and then kisses your forehead.

- Ja! I'm your husband now, mein Leben.

- I wanna see the ring on my finger then! You're such a jealous man König, I love that.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod - Teaching you their language

Requested: No

Warnings: ✨Spice✨, slight Angst, Reader doesn’t speak the character’s language

König

König is a patient teacher and also quite a bit excitable when it comes to the topic of his language. He’d love nothing more than to speak to someone else in his mother tongue, as it is less nerve wracking for him than trying to carefully pronounce things in English. He’s really good at answering any questions you have, and is gentle when he corrects your pronunciations or words you’ve mixed up. That being said, because he’s so excited, he sometimes forgets that you can’t speak the language as well as him, so he’ll go on long rants or explanations in Austrian-German without realizing it until he waits for an answer from you and you just stare at him blankly.

Krueger

Krueger is much less patient than König and he’s also less excited. It’s been a long time since he’s spoken to anyone in his language, and he’s constantly insecure about how his accent has been changed over the years, and he’s constantly doubting if he’s even speaking the language right, even if it’s his own mother tongue. But once you two really start to make some progress he’s much more relaxed, and even finds it a bit soothing to be able to speak like this with someone again. He’s not the most patient teacher with you but he’s not the worst either. Some days are worse than others but that’s mostly due to his own stresses and for reasons already listed above.

Alejandro

Alejandro is SO glad you asked. You can’t tell exactly what’s on his mind but what you can tell is that it’s something devious, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by. He takes great joy in focusing on anatomy first and foremost, taking a marker to you, writing down pure filth on your skin, words like “*Propiedad de Alejandro” and “*Tócame” and “*Mía/Mío”, sucking and nipping at whatever correlates to the words that you manage to pronounce at least semi correctly. Of course he’ll teach you things beyond that but he’s just really excited to use this to his advantage. He may or may not have had this exact scenario as a fantasy for a while now.

Roach

Roach is happy to teach you BSL! Sure he can speak at times but it takes a lot of effort and it makes him uncomfortable, and it takes forever for anyone to figure out what he wants through vague gestures and charades. Not to say that moments like those can’t be funny but you get sick of them rather quickly when it happens so much. He’ll probably start by teaching you the alphabet hand signs and some simple words finger spelling, along with his name. (Which you later find out is not him signing Gary, but Roach.) He’ll even teach you some of his personal signs, like the ones he made for his teammates and that they’ve all vaguely come to recognize as them. You learn that yours in particular is actually the sign for Bug, what once was his secret nickname for you but that he’s kind of happy you now know, if only to see your smile whenever he uses it.

Gromsko

Gromsko, much like Alejandro, used this opportunity to his advantage. Except in a bit of a different way. He’ll be edging you throughout your “lessons”, cooing in your ear as you struggle to even read what he’s written down for you to practice, your legs trembling as he fingers you. If you get it right? He goes faster, hitting just the right spots. If you get it wrong, he stops completely, taking enjoyment in how you sob with dismay, pressing kisses to your shoulders as he whispers to you. “Shhh, *Kochanie. It’s okay. Try again.” He’ll tell you, a smile on his face that looked almost deceivingly innocent.

*Propiedad de Alejandro = Property of Alejandro

*Tócame = Touch me

*Mía/Mío = Mine

*Kochanie = Sweetheart

[joe-leviari]

Simon Ghost Riley is annoyed.

" So you ended up working together, you ended up helping one another, you ended up not liking each other. " || Ghost listens in to you having sex ||

for adults only; NSFW; sexual themes; stalker!Ghost; smut; other COD characters briefly mentioned; backstory for main character; afab!reader x konig; no use of y/n; English is not my first language, feel free to privately message me to correct any mistakes.

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, they need you. 

You being the highly-trained-deadly-skilled-gun-for-hire of a now nearly collapsed criminal enterprise, and the only one left alive with the intel that they need. 

But that’s alright, because, as it turns out, you need them. 

Them being the task force 141, the very same that has been sistematically dismantling the above mentioned criminal empire and hunting down the above mentioned highly-trained-deadly-skilled-gun-for-hire. Little-fucking-nuisance, according to Simon. 

So you ended up working together, you ended up helping one another, you ended up not liking each other. 

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, judging by the way Gaz has been telling you stories from his childhood, the way Price has been calling you silly nicknames through the crackling comms, and the way Soap has taken the habit to fully lean into you every time you show him something stupid on your phone, the only one who doesn’t really like you is Ghost himself. 

Not liking you is fine; that’s something he can deal with for the simple fact that he does not really have to deal with it. Disliking you is a mere subjective perception that he acknowledges in passing, almost distractingly, when he lays his eyes on you. The real problem is that he does not fucking trust you. Now that’s something he has to deal with; that’s HIS duty, that’s HIS team. 

Sure, you are constantly monitored, they are not stupid: you have lived most of your life like a criminal, surrounded by criminals. You have the resources, the knowledge, and fairly good reasons to fuck them over. That’s why you are never left alone and never trusted to carry any weapons unless strictly necessary. Your location is always traced, your heartbeat is polygraph-tested every time you have to be questioned.  The thing is, you were very well made aware of all this when you signed on the dotted line the day that Laswell came to see you in the prison’s infirmary. 

A few days later, there you were, with a bruised face and an even more bruised ego, getting yourself nice and comfy in the room down the hall. 

So it was for the sake of HIS team that Simon had to break into the room down the hall to carefully bug it. With a bit of patience, he will find something compromising that will force Laswell - who seemed to take a shine on you for whatever bloody reason - to send you back to prison. Or anywhere else, really, as long as you were out of sight. And with that, out of mind. 

Much to Ghost's annoyance, you moan differently than he expected. Simon assumed, definitely assumed, and NEVER fantasized that you would moan like a fucking pornstar. 

No, this… This is something entirely different. And now that it thinks about it, it is more like you. You have a wicked sweetness about you, the kind that makes men want to either break you or protect you. 

You have the cheekiness that gets you in trouble—the same one that gets you out of it. Ghost adjusts the ear buds in his ears and draws his eyebrows together. 

The man on you (behind you? Under you? Most definitely inside you) is babbling, grunting, and moaning, visceral and guttural. And you... You sound breathy and airy and wet and light. In a delicate voice, you are giving him directions, but you have to repeat yourself a few times before he snaps out of his daze and complies. And when he finally does, oh, you are all praise. 

How the fuck did he menage to get into your pants? And why, on God’s green earth, would you let him?

Ghost has witnessed you flirt before: sometimes you were just doing your job, other times you were having fun dancing with recruits in bars, flashing them a little smile with a pretty blush on your face. You were quick to throw them a bait and even quicker to retrieve it. “Don’t push your luck, soldier” you would say with an easy grin. Cheeky little thing. 

Simon would scoff at your antics and at the men and women who would fall for your little act. That’s why he is so surprised now, because with you, everything seems to be either an act or a transaction. I’ll give you what you need if you offer me something better first.

That’s what he thought you were doing with Konig when he caught you complimenting his skills and commenting on his strength. Just being smart, just trying to have one more ally. 

But the way you were panting, mewling, and pleading told him a different story. You could not be trusted. And now HIS team is in danger because you couldn’t keep your legs shut. Are your legs actually wide open? Are they on his shoulders? No, Ghost is not thinking about your legs. Instead, he is thinking that he wouldn’t need you to give him pointers on how to adjust the rhythm or how to angle himself to hit your sweet spot. With one hand on your mouth, he’d know exactly what to do to you. You wouldn’t need to say please and thank you; you wouldn’t need to be so polite. 

Simon is startled when you let out a sudden giggle, immediately followed by a whimper. You are confusing, half crying and half elated, half begging to stop and half begging to continue. It’s intimate—you sound so defenseless, so vulnerable. You are definitely not to be trusted. 

Much to Ghost’s annoyance, a little escapade with a fellow soldier is not enough to get you to fuck off somewhere else—somewhere far, far away from him. If that were to be enough, the base would be empty by now. He just has to be a little more patient and wait until he hears you say something compromising to the mercenary (or any other bastard that you’ll let into your bed, for that matter, a slut like you). Eventually you'll let something slip that will put the safety of the team at risk and thwart your credibility in the process.

Ghost is just going to have to endure more of this bullshit, and THAT is what annoys him the most. Not the fact that while listening to you, he is reminded of that one time when you dislocated your shoulder. He lets his focus drift to your moaning, desperately trying to conjure the memory of the way you turned your big, watery eyes on him, looking like a wounded animal. He can see it now; he can hear it now—the barely audible plea that escaped your lips, “Please, please don’t hurt me,"  as he was grabbing your arm and trying to fix you. It is only a pang in the pit of his stomach that snaps him out of it; he should not find the idea of you getting hurt so damn erotic. 

You little fucking nuisance.

[shadow4-1]

bro this MIGHT come off as the cringiest thing ever known to mankind but im probably the biggest game geek god has ever laid hands on so;

part time game developer!reader (or something like that anyways) was bored one day and decided to start to yk develop a game - in this au the cod games ovbi dont exist - but she makes a little demo of cod.. and when one day on base soap or some1 catches reader writing ideas and such (obviously not the actual missions they go on - that’s confidential) something in a note book he tells the others (more like gaz) and they get curious and bug reader until she tells them that she made a game demo including the 141…

and idk maybe she gives them the file so they can play it and they kinda like rate the things they say in the cutscenes or smth idk have fun with it

but yeah thats the idea thats been swarming through my mind for the past couple of days since i’ve found your account (WHICH I BTW LOVE i love how you portray all of the characters and shit)

byebye

Oh my gosh not cringe! This is such a cute idea!!! (Also thank you for the really cute gif! I love puppies :3)

I'm such a huge fan of weird meta stuff in my fanfictions. Like, the characters know but they don't know they're in a videogame? Haha, ngl I've had some thought about this too! Lemme add to your imagine real quick:

You spent all of your early adolescence learning how to code and make lil' games on your shitty old laptop. Now, with the more advanced tech the 141 had provided you, you take to making even more cool things during your (limited) free time.

The first game you felt confident enough to show off was a rough prototype of a fighting game. It only had two characters loosely based off of both Ghost and Soap. You showed it to Gaz as more of an offhanded joke, but he was excited. He too knew some things about game development and decided to help you out on the project.

It still wasn't a polished game, per se, but it was playable. Soap caught wind of your game and begged to try it out. With Gaz's help, you set up the firmware using an emulator and the jailbroken game console in the rec room. You felt so shy showing off something you did for fun.

And it was a huge hit!

Even with only two characters recruits and officer's alike spent hours playtesting and figuring out how to make combos. The room erupted into cheers when Soap figured out the first finishing move!

"Oi, Bonnie! I think you migh've made something really special here!"

[sevs-corner]

I kinda wanna have a Super power/superhuman AU with the Tf 141 crew just for funsies or the COD universe characters really then put ‘em in the main campaign plot

Like Roach (yes I am hc-ing him with the current guys) has the powers to become an actual Roach.

Man is unkill-able in the field—

Shot in the chest?

Doesn’t matter, he’s up in a matter of seconds again.

Knife to the neck?

He’s using that knife to stab whoever stabbed him.

AC-130 from above?

You can beat your ass he’s surviving the blast and launching a RPG right back at ‘em.

The only time he's incapacitated is when someone aims bugs spray at him or simply a shower with some soap.

(Is he stinky? No, he takes water bathes and uses dry shampoo- but there are definitely some days where they have to force him to shower and it just makes him faint for a couple of hours.)

Soap has gotta have something related to speed! I mean, that is how he originally got his moniker right? So quick and clean to clear out a place, then he's a quickly out in a second.

So think of the times when he's been the player's FPS--

I think he would have something along the lines of 'accelerated movement and perception.' Meaning, he can manually activate those time slowing moments when you bomb open a room (back in the original MW series)

Which is how I'd like to think that's how he got his name in this AU!

Of course, he has to train how long he can maintain this state both mentally and physically as both aspects of body gets severely affected with drawbacks as his body doesn't catch up or sync with his abilities.

At the beginning, he could hold it for 5 seconds, from when he enters the room to accurately shooting out all of the enemies weak points and clearing out a room.

Its more like, he gets affected by his powers more intrinsically compared to it being effective extrinsically on his environment.

But of course, he uses this to mess with people all the time-- especially with his other sargents in the force, or in training with the other soldiers under him.

It helps people keep them on their toes and think quite ahead of them in a way that it has to be instinctual.

"Just be like LT," he says, "he can predict my movements without even blinkin' a wee lash at me."

He whines as he proceeds to sneak onto Ghost who just ignores him as he falls through his form.

Yes, Ghost definitely has 'phasing' related abilities that makes him a good match with Soap because he has to manually activate the abilities. It's not like its unconsciously activated all the time, where he just phases through everything (imagine trying to sleep and then you're suddenly 6ft under lmao- he wouldn't mind that though) or does it get activate throughout his entire body. That's a level he hasn't quite reached yet but doesn't desire it either.)

It only activated at will and at a certain are for a certain amount of time, just like Soap.

So, in practice when trading blows, its always a game of "what if?" with them.

A will-he-won't-he dilemma that just makes the dynamic much more fun!

Also, further down the line, I don't think evolving these powers are good either; for example, Ghost could use his phasing powers and inflict it on a bullet and then shoot said bullet- time it in a way that, before it hits its target, it can pass through walls and kill said person.

Yeah, that seems too OP and broken.

Gaz! I would like to think that he has camouflaging abilities, not like- straight up invisibility, you can still see him but he's very well-hidden in his environment.

From the campaigns I've watched so far with him being one of the playable characters again as the player, he seems like an adaptable to any situation type of guy.

So, I think this fits him best!

He definitely excels during stealth missions where he gets the fun off of sneaking in as one of the enemies but also thrives in the chaos of a battle per se, where he can easily disrupt enemy lines and trust by acting as one of them and creating a "betrayal" of sorts.

A mind game which he easily plays every single time.

At this point, he's used to it-- especially when he's dealing with Soap and LT, who are the duo to beat when it comes to their sparring sessions.

Camouflage all he likes, he still has to gain the upper hand by reading them before he gets read like an open book.

Captain Price, the man, the myth, the legend himself has gotta have something unique. Although the usual Captain America powers lines up to him and his character but I thought of something more interesting- in tribute to his intelligence and strategic planning as the head of the task force.

Something along the lines of 'mental projection,' and I know it sounds general so let's break it down~!

What I was imagining with this power is that he's able to be like a real life hologram, where he can project the things he's thinking of in the real world, but all of it is still imaginary.

For example, he can replicate a gun and use it to shoot somebody, but it won't kill and that person who got shot will notice immediately.

Although, a unique thing to Price's ability (once it further gets trained and developed) it can be activated at multiple targets at once.

So, even though he shot a fake gun, Price can manipulate into their "reality" that they did get shot by the "gun" he had in his hand.

Yes, this takes great effort in his part because he has to make it convincing enough and anything half-assed would look shoddy and unbelievable.

So, he keeps this power hidden, only using it at opportune times with little to no explanations-- like a secret weapon, an ace hidden up his sleeve, waiting to be used only when it becomes a last resort to.

More than anyone, he tops the mind games everyone plays with each other to get the most out of their ability as much as possible.

(Even the task force members don't know the extent of Price's powers- hence the great importance of keeping it lowkey and behind close doors for Price.)

Alex (another unofficial member in my hc) is definitely something related to being a sharpshooter-- just like one of the last mission in the first MW!

Its somewhat kind of like energy manipulation, where the further that he is-- the stronger the impact of his bullets are, per se (if he infuses it with his powers.)

He can also control the size of it- choosing whether to be like a bullet, a lazer, or a blast.

Yes, he does often get kidnapped by Roach to take down the AC-130s.

One of the downsides is that, he can't just shoot out straight off energy-- it HAS to infuses something. He can't alter its state but more often like granting it a special ability for a limited time to enhance it, but at the same time- is dependent on how long he infuses it for.

No, he does not have a stash of infused bullets- it wears off over time.

Imagine him sparring against Soap, and in the time he's dodging and swearing through Soap's endless barrel of hits-- he's charging up his knee pad; that when the opportune time comes, he's stuffed it with so much energy that it makes Soap flying off.

So, it kind of makes it more of a time-dependent ability than a distance-dependent one (but he likes to confuse and confound people like the captain.)

As for the other characters in the series, I'm gonna do a quick list with little explanations and divulge 'em more in a later post (its still raw, i need a lil more cooking time ajsdhkjsdf) Ending note, most of the powers have equal conditions of activation, drawbacks, and counterbalances in hopes that it doesn't make it overpowering and actually seem to be more like an ability that can be overcame if strategized against properly. (Fun side note: I'm an OW player so I've seen my fair share of disasters when it comes to this, so of course I know how bad it can get lmao). I also want it to be a point that, when I come to writing this out in the plot of the campaign/story mode of the games, its still in tune with it but a little more wacky and kind of more challenging to overcome.

[fallenneziah]

Hey, I'm Fallen, welcome to... Chaos. Figured I would make a navigation post for this blog so I, and you, can get around easily. I'm active in the Call of Duty, Transformers, and Marvel/X-Men fandoms (poolverine). I am multi-fandom so you may see something random in between there as well!

I started this blog off of ships and I will be trying to get it revolving around ships a lot more again, because I personally like them more than the current dynamic.

My AO3 is NotSoPassivelyAggressive.

Bluesky is here

Requests are open! I will write for Reader of any gender and (most) sexual orientations. I will write ship fics as well.

Come bug me with absolutely anything, I write for most characters from the Modern Warfare trilogies. Most Transformers characters (except humans).

If you're a minor please don't interact with me in any way as it does make me a bit uncomfortable to see you skulking around. Blank blogs that follow me will be blocked. (No name, no photos, no age etc)

Down below the cut there will be a list of all the current fics, drabbles, and AO3 links on this blog so you can skip right to reading!

COD:

How they are in bed pt1 (all)

Alpha!Ghost x Omega!Reader pt 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Christmas specials. König, Ghost, Soap, Price,

AO3 fics:

GhostSoap powerplay

PriceGhost aphrodisiac smut. (Trans Ghost)

GhostRoach smut.

Puppy Soap in a rut with his fwb Ghost. (Trans Ghost)

Making it official - OptiRach.

Work arrangements - MegaSound.

Talk dirty to me - WaveWave.

Wants and needs -CrossDrift.

Cowl on, Hood off -Poolverine.

You with me? -Poolverine.

There are 18 fics currently in my AO3 and the majority of them are Transformers. So this is an example of ships you'll find there. Enjoy!

Challenges:

A mile high In hopes. (Aviation pilot Simon)

No name challenge. (Not smut)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

Trans Simon Riley, 1, 2, 3 (Male reader)

Man whore Riley test out.

Johnny likes to share. (Johnny/Simon x reader)

Zombie Ghost breeding.

Serial Killer/stalker blurb.

Friends with benefits

Ghost x Virgin Reader

Virgin Ghost x Reader

Sharing is caring - (Ghost/Price x Reader) (Sharing Price's wife)

Zombie Ghost x Reader

Ghost x New hotshot recruit.- (Ghost is determined to make you cum)

Warm welcome - (Ghost comes home to an unsuspecting Reader)

Keep still - (Can't stay still, stuck in a closet with Ghost)

Desperate Ghost drabble

Poly 141 drabble - Poly 141 full fic (pt1?) (all 141)

No gag reflex drabble.

NSFW alphabet -Simon Riley.

Throat of a man. (Throat kink ig?)

Beauty standards. (Not smut)

Omega!Ghost x Alpha!Reader drabble.

Making out in the rain (not smut)

Christmas lights and stuffing.

Trans Simon Christmas special.

Cuddles after top surgery. (trans reader)

Captain John Price:

Price's voice lines drabble

Honorifics in bed.

Back roads. (Christmas car smut)

John "Soap" Mactavish:

Sexually repressed Catholic Johnny.

Sharing is caring (John & Simon)

His Christmas present.

Alejandro/Rodolfo:

Morning messiness (Waking up between them)

Philip Graves:

Graves x short reader

Konig:

Conquering Goliath - (your first time)

Christmas dinner distraction.

Transformers:

Dating them hccns

Getting each other's attention - (Ships)

Reader being a passenger princess - (all)

Optimus Prime:

Optimus with a small reader-size kink

Flicker pt1

Flicker pt2

Good boy - (Ratchet x Optimus)

An unexpected spark. (Pregnancy fic)

Soundwave:

Soundwave x a vehicon

[lingering-42-long]

141 + extra When everyone is sick

I am sick. And because I am sick, I thought about doing some thing dealing with some of the COD characters with not just you, or them, or your children sick, but Everybody sick. Let’s be honest one person just doesn’t get sick and then the other people are fine in the household most people if one person gets sick, the whole household runs with that same disgusting germ. If you are a squeamish 2, the usual illness that includes potential, throw up, fevers, coughs, mucus, and whatever else comes out of the crusty eyes of everybody who is sick, then this story might not be for you. Enjoy~

Also, if you want to leave a question, or ask for a theme for a head cannon, or a short story, please feel free to use the ask box!  It’s always open!

COD x Female Character

Warnings: sicknes and other related things, fluff

Captain John Prince

• It started when the girls came back home from school.

• At first they just had sneezes which you didn’t think much about but then the next day their sneezes have turned into coughs and sore throats.

• There was no fever, so you still sent them to school with a packet of Halls for each of them and some kid friendly medicine.

• It was around 2 o’clock and you were almost ready to pick them up from school. When you receive a phone call from the teacher letting you know that your two children have a fever.

• A day later you had caught whatever bug they had caught

• And now your young toddler, son is also down with whatever.

• John is much more susceptible to colds and can handle them. He was doing his best to make sure that everybody was taken care of.

• It honestly broke his heart, saying that his whole family was practically crumpling underneath this little illness.

• He made sure to stay on top of the medication and would do his best to help you with the kids when they weren’t feeling good.

• To make sure that he didn’t get sick, he decided to sleep in the guest bedroom.

• Makes the best chicken noodle soup this side of England!

• Reads to his children while keeping a safe distance from them.

• If you’re burning up and not feeling well, immediately gets a bath going for you.

• He wants to be close to you and the children again and he misses hugging them and you.

• One of the only people that does not get sick.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• You two had eaten some thing that did not settle well in either of your stomachs.

• While, Simon was capable of looking like he wasn’t in pain, you were a different story.

• You were throwing up almost every hour and your stomach hurts so bad.

• Did I forget to mention you’re pregnant with his first child?

• Simon does everything he can for both of you.

• He make sure that you both take the medication on time and he’s very precise with keeping you guys on track of drinking water and taking charcoal pills to eliminate any toxin in your body.

• He’s asking you if you are OK.

• Even though this wasn’t his fault, he still feels like it is.

• You remind him that there is nothing, he could’ve done since neither of you knew that the food was tainted with something.

• He rubs your belly at night, trying to ease the pain that you are feeling, and that your child are experiencing.

• At night, you hear him throwing up. You see him crouched on the side of the toilet, puking out whatever liquids were in his stomach.

• By the time he’s done, he all butt collapses on to the floor, exhausted.

• You help him up and he get him to brush his teeth then you to go back to bed with one trash can mirror each of your bedside.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• Johnny and you had come down with some thing.

• It was a cold, rainy day in Scotland while he and you were hiking.

• You hadn’t expect it to rain so soon.

• It has been a beautiful day out on the highlands when suddenly you got drenched.

• You were now wet and cold and you had at least half a kilometer away from your car.

• Johnny made sure to get you warmed up with a nice hot shower and to make you guys both some soup.

• You could tell by his face he wasn’t feeling good either.

• Another good news was that you made sure to have the freezer stocked with soup bases, and stock as well as soups for cold days and emergencies.

• You to sit on the couch, cuddled together in your blankets, trying to stay warm and drink your soup.

• You take some Advil before heading off to bed.

• The next morning you feel worse than you did.

• You could hear Johnny moaning as he was puking up his contents from dinner.

• His puking caused you to have a chain reaction and you started to feel the bile rising up.

• Next thing you know you’re racing towards the bathroom to throw up as well.

• But it’s too late for you as you suddenly release most of your contacts on the bedroom floor, staining your carpet in the process.

• Johnny sees this and does what he can to finish up with his issue before coming over to help you at least make it into the bathroom before a second wave hits you.

• Your whole body is burning up.

• You decide to start a hot bath for both of you.

• You’re shaking for how cold you feel.

• Johnny does his best to keep you both warm.

• He lays a ton of kisses on your for head as he whispers that it’s going to be OK.

• He is very clingy and wants to be holding you and touching you at all times.

• Some thing about sharing body heat to keep you both warm.

• Just an excuse to hold you.

• He also promises to do a better thorough check on the weather the next time.

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• Gaz was the one that got sick first.

• You’re not exactly sure how he got it. He just came home with a cough and a scratchy throat saying it was nothing.

• The next morning, he woke up with a lot of pain in his throat, and it was making it difficult for him to breathe properly.

• Worried you take him to the doctors and you find out that he has strep throat.

• The doctor gives you the medication you need to help treat him and suggest that you stay away from him as best as you can.

• This hurts both of you since you both want to be close to one another especially in the time of need.

• Gaz makes a phone call to price letting him know that he won’t be in at base due to strep throat.

• Captain Price wishes him well and sends him a speedy recovery.

• Gaz hates taking medicine. He’s not a big fan of bitter stuff.

• But he will do anything if you get to play nurse for him.

• Slightly clingy, but not nearly as clingy as soap.

• Whines a little about not feeling well.

• He doesn’t complain much because he knows you’re doing your best and he doesn’t want you to feel like you’re not doing your best.

• He falls asleep faster if you’re in the room sitting in a chair next to him.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• The commander is very similar to John. He rarely gets sick, but he hates seeing you get sick and more importantly he hates seeing his children get sick.

• His youngest daughter started not feeling very good a couple of days ago.

• His little baby girl was sent to the hospital to make sure everything was OK.

• She had just picked up the bug that had been passing around the area.

• Do you love watching your husband take care of his baby girl.

• He acts as if her life depends upon him solely to take care of her.

• The other two kids are advised to stay away from their youngest siblings room until she’s feeling better.

• They write her all cards, telling her to get well soon.

• Your two eldest children help you make fresh broth, so that their sibling could have some nourishment.

• Alejandro also knows that he is potentially at risk for catching whatever she has. So in order to keep the disease from spreading, he also sleeps in the guestroom.

• He does miss not being with his family.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• Your son has always been a weak child from the beginning.

• Since the moment of birth, Rudy and you had to go to the doctors office quite more frequently than what most babies had to go into because your son suffers with autoimmune disease.

• When he was first born, you almost lost him, because he was so weak and born as a preemie.

• Thankfully, he has gotten a lot healthier, but it still considered a very small baby even for his size.

• It was one of those days where he was not feeling very good. While a normal cough or sneeze doesn’t harm a person can absolutely destroy your son.

• Rudy and you are in the ICU making sure that your son is in good hands and being watched over.

• Rudy is nervous but he chose not to show it for you.

• He loves his son dearly and wants the best for him he wishes that he could take his sons pain away.

• His son had to get some IV drips into him.

• Both you and your husband will stay in the hospital for sometime.

König

• Nothing beats a good day, playing out in the snow in Austria, however; that day will be very short-lived as the whole family gets whammied with an illness.

• The only one that isn’t sick is your baby boy who is staying with his grandmother for the time being as the rest if you get healed up.

• König is not a very healthy person. He doesn’t necessarily have an auto immune issue, but he does catch colds a lot faster, and he sustains them a lot longer than most people.

• Unfortunately, this means that all the work is put on you.

• He really wants to help with the responsibilities, but he can’t even move out of bed without the world spinning, and he hast to collapse back onto the sheets or risk blacking out.

• His girls fare better and you’re doing OK with just a sore throat and a slight fever and mixed with a headache.

• Since you are all sick, you decide to just all cuddle up together in bed.

• König is passed out fast asleep, and the two little girls are squirming around, trying to get comfortable.

• You’re doing your best that you can and you’ve already gotten the medicine from the doctors for the girls and your husband and yourself.

• One morning you wake up to somebody brushing your hair and you look up to see König with some hot coffee ready for you.

• He was feeling a little bit better this morning and wanted to do something nice for you.

• He feels really bad for not helping you with the girls even if you tell them it’s fine.

Alex Keller

• You’ve got pneumonia.

• Alex is like a Labrador retriever.

• He will get you anything that you need or want.

• He woke up in the middle of the night

• He then heard you crying, which helps him get up faster.

• You are in pain and the rattling in your lungs is the evidence of that pain.

• Alex does everything that the doctor prescribes you.

• You have to wear a nebulizer for a few minutes every handful of hours.

• He brings you clothes in his arms as you two are watching a TV show while your nebulizer is wrapped around your face, making a Low hum as it is pumping you with the steam.

• The way you’re laying on his leg is making him uncomfortable, but he’s not gonna say anything to you.

• Right now he’s focused on making sure that you are OK.

Philip Graves

• Philip has never been one really to get sick.

• He Springs back from a lot of things really quickly. It would literally take a bomb to put him under and even then he would still find away.

• He’s not feeling good but he’s got work that Hass to get done and no amount of stopping him is going to keep them from doing his work.

• That is until you get up into his face and pretty much force him back down on the couch when he tries to leave with a 102°f (39°c)fever.

• He grumbles about some thing for Work stating that he can’t miss on his job.

• So you make him go to a doctor and you find out that he has Covid.

• He gets a doctors note and calls in sick from work.

• Yeah, you’re petty.

• You make sure to get the bedroom set up nicely for him and also make sure to have water by his bedside so he’s not dehydrated.

• He grumbles more about how he can handle himself.

• You threaten to call his mom.

• He shuts up.

• He now begrudgingly has to deal with you, tending to his care

• The worst part is he actually enjoys it, and will find any excuse for you to be near him.

• He will ask five or six other times to bring him more tissues, or to fluff up the pillows or tuck in the sheets a little bit more.

• He tries to kiss you after every task, but of course you dodged them telling him he did not want to get Covid.

• He just gets grouchy again.

• Once he’s better, he plans on taking you out to dinner for all your hard work and making him feel better .

[writeforfandoms]

The Hanging Tree

Find my CoD masterlist

You've known Johnny for years, and for a long time you thought all the codes and prep you two went through was just to assuage his paranoia. Until he sends you a code and you have to get out fast.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!reader

Warnings: Graphic violence, mild panic attack, minor character death, blood, gunshots, threats of violence, threats of death, spy shit, angst, whump, feral Soap. 

Word count: 5.1k

In all the years you'd known Johnny, you had gotten to know how he worked quite well. He was occasionally prone to over exaggerating, and sometimes was dramatic. But he had never been flippant about your safety. Never. 

Which was why, when you got a text from him that said simply "hanging tree", you stopped breathing.

And then you bolted for your room. 

For all his planning and paranoia, Johnny had never actually used any of your safety codes until now. 

You stuffed some clothes and necessities in a bag, grabbing the bundle of cash you kept hidden. For Johnny to have used this sign was… bad. Bad enough that you knew you couldn't use any of your credit cards or anything. 

Briefly, you cursed yourself for not taking him up on his offer of packing you a bug-out bag. 

But you were still out the door in under twenty minutes, locking up behind you and starting to walk. 

You and Johnny had gone over the route before, multiple times. A few times on foot, more often only verbally, until you could recite the way unaided. 

You treated your memory now, reciting the directions to keep yourself calm as you left your home behind. For all you knew, you would never see it again. 

A deep breath helped to calm you, a bit, and you took the first turn. 

It wasn't late, fortunately, so you passed people as you walked. You smiled and nodded to those you knew, but didn't linger. It was best to move quick, but not so fast as to attract attention. You could practically hear Johnny reminding you of that. 

You paid for a ticket in cash to your first stop, three towns over. From there, you'd go west a ways, then back north a bit. It was a roundabout route, but necessary. 

Just in case anyone was trying to follow you. 

The sun had set by the time you got onto the second bus, your breath fogging up the window ever so slightly as you leaned your temple against the cool glass. You almost felt like crying, or asking him if he was sure, or anything. 

But his instructions had been very clear. 

"If you ever get this signal from me, you leave. Immediately. Don't linger. You remember the route?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Of course I remember, Johnny. Do we need to go over it again?"

He'd laughed quietly, pressing an almost apologetic kiss to your forehead. "Nah, sorry, hen. I know you know. I just–"

"Fuss. You just fuss." But your smile was unmistakably fond as you gazed at him. 

"Dinnae fuss," he grumbled. "Anyway. You get that signal, don't contact me. Right? This is important."

"Get out as fast as possible, follow the route, watch my six, don't contact you," you reiterated, almost flippant. Almost. "I know, Johnny. Is there… is there a reason you're doing this now?"

"No," he assured you. "No, just makin' sure, I promise you." 

You had smiled then and let him distract you with kisses. 

You breathed out hard, blinking back tears. No. You didn't have time for that. Safety first, then crying. Maybe. 

The transition to the third bus was a long one - the busses didn't run as frequently this late. So you got to sit in the terminal and wait, backpack on your lap, playing on your phone (on airplane mode) to keep yourself busy. 

Fortunately, from the looks you chanced around, you didn't recognize anyone. It didn't look like you'd been followed. That was something of a relief. 

Finally, you boarded the last bus. Setting your backpack down on the floor in front of you, you stared down at your phone. The urge to text Johnny, to call him, to ask if he was alright and demand to know what was going on, was… it was hard. Your next inhale was a little shaky and you swallowed hard. 

And stuffed your phone back in your pocket. 

Johnny had been very clear, and the instructions were for your safety as well as his. 

You couldn't contact him. You just had to get to safety and wait. 

The last bus stopped, and you got off. It was the middle of the night now. The sky was clear and cold, stars twinkling down at you, the moon bright. You started walking, shivering a little, keeping a close eye on everything around you. 

But nobody else got off the bus, and nobody followed you. 

From here, it was a long walk to the cabin. Johnny insisted on that, said that a secluded place would be safer. In case he needed to patch himself up without nosey neighbors calling him in, or he needed to lay low. 

The end result was that you were walking for a lot longer than you really wanted to. The chill wore off after a while, at least. 

Nearly-numb fingers fumbled the cabin key out of your backpack, and you unlocked the door, flipping the lights on. The cabin was cozy, not large but well furnished, and always stocked with non-perishables. The door shut behind you with a soft click, and you locked it. 

There was only one bedroom, and you claimed it as yours. Since Johnny had sent you all the way out here, he could take the couch if he got in while you were sleeping. You left your backpack next to the bed, stripped down enough to be comfortable, and collapsed. 

The room was bright when you woke, and you groaned. For a moment you thought about pulling the pillow over your head and going back to sleep, but no. You needed to get up. 

Groaning again, you dressed in clean clothes from your backpack and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. No sign of Johnny yet. No anybody at all, actually. 

Sighing, you went through your options for breakfast, and settled on a protein bar. Not exciting, but it would do. At least he had tea here. 

The day passed achingly slowly. Johnny had left plenty of books and board games in the cabin, even a TV and DVD player. But nothing held your attention for long, not with the low-level anxiety as your constant companion. You barely even felt hungry, picking through the available food with a choosiness entirely unlike you. 

Not even a hot shower helped to quell the anxiety. Every minute without an update felt like an eternity stuck in purgatory. 

The second day dragged just as slowly as the first. You left the TV on all day, playing movies without paying attention to them, just for the background noise. Just to have something outside your own head. 

Because the possibilities running non-stop through your mind were terrifying, now. 

You forced yourself to eat and keep hydrated. You cleaned. (You'd helped choose the cleaning products, you remembered a playful argument with Johnny over rags of all things, remembered whapping him in the chest with your chosen towel, remembered shrieking laughter as he chased you outside and tackled you down into the grass–) 

One book caught your eye. One you'd thought you had lost years ago. Johnny had sworn up and down that he had no idea where it was. 

Fucking liar. Your laugh cracked into a sob, and you pressed a hand to your mouth, suddenly terrified of making too much noise. But the tears didn't stop for a long time. 

The third day felt a little… listless. Surely Johnny should have come by now, or sent one of his friends? Surely it wouldn't be so bad to turn your phone back on and check for any messages? 

A knock on the door a couple hours before sunset startled you so badly you knocked over your water. You swore softly, gaze darting to the door. 

Someone called your name from the other side of the door. Not Johnny. Someone with an English accent, smoother than you would have guessed of one of his teammates. 

"Soap sent me," he called through the door. "I'm going to take you to him." 

You dropped a towel silently on the spilled water, aching to open the door. But you didn't know any of his teammates, not really, and you couldn't confirm one way or the other. You needed something more. 

"Ah, he said he'd get you ice cream?" The man sounded confused now, but still pleasant. 

And you relaxed. That was the all clear. You practically bounded to the front door, yanking it open. 

"Finally," you breathed, looking him over. Dark, nondescript clothes, dark hair, dark eyes. "Is he here?"

"Close," he answered, a little evasively. "I'm taking you to him." 

"Let me just grab my–"

"Leave it." 

You jerked a little, startled at his tone. He smiled apologetically. 

"You'll be back here soon. Might as well leave it. We need to go now." 

You hesitated. Something didn't feel right. But you'd been anxious for days - maybe that was still throwing you off? Or the lack of good sleep? He'd given you the all clear, it should be fine… 

"Okay," you agreed softly, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on. The cabin door closed behind you and you started towards the car parked in front. Black sedan, tinted windows. "How far are we going?"

"Oh, not far at all." Something jabbed into your neck and you shrieked, trying to tear away. But he anticipated that, one arm winding tight around you as the needle left your skin. "You'll sleep right through it." 

The world started to tip under you, at once too bright and blurring together. Your limbs felt thick and clumsy, uncoordinated. 

The last thing you felt was leather under your cheek. 

Throbbing in your temples woke you, insistent and annoying. You groaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them carefully. The sudden flood of light made you close them tight again with a whimper, pain radiating all the way to the base of your skull. 

Trying to lift your arm to block the glare didn't work, and you panicked then, a little. You couldn't move either hand, or your legs. When you tried, something rough rubbed against your skin, quickly rubbing you raw. Your breathing sped up in your panic and you carefully opened your eyes, head tilted down to try to minimize the light. 

You didn't recognize anything. You were tied to a chair, the rope tight enough to prevent you from moving much, but you could at least still feel all your fingers and toes. Quick looks around showed nothing but a bare wooden room with a spotlight set up directly across from you. The light was so bright it hurt your eyes, and you gave up trying to see anything directly around it. 

You had no idea where you were. You were tied up snugly enough that you couldn't escape. And you were alone. 

This time, there was nothing you could do to stop the panicked tears. Despite knowing it wouldn't help, you couldn't stop yourself from jerking at the ropes, trying desperately to find some weakness. 

The click of a door opening may as well have been as loud as a gunshot. You stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped everything. Footsteps approached you, smooth and even. 

"Ah, you're finally awake. Just in time." 

It was the man from the cabin, the one who'd given you the all clear. You sucked in a gasping breath, trying to form words. 

"Best not. You're only here as incentive. I only need you alive, not unharmed." 

You swallowed hard at that, at how casually he threatened you. Your mouth closed without a word. 

"Good. Now, you just sit there and look alive." He chuckled a little at his own joke, stepping past you to fiddle with something just underneath the light. You couldn't see what it was - between the headache still incapacitating you and the man's bulk, you were useless. 

You nearly started crying again but swallowed it back with enormous effort. You needed to be quiet. You needed to not give this man a reason to hurt you further. Johnny would figure this out, you had no doubt that he'd find you. 

You needed to be alive for him to find. 

The man moved behind the light again, and you winced at the brightness. 

"Mr. MacTavish." His voice was lower now, drawling, insulting. "You have been making yourself quite a pest these last weeks, haven't you? You know more than you should. But you're not the only one." 

Your eyes had finally adjusted enough to the light to see the little red light underneath. He was recording this. He was making a video to send to Johnny. You swallowed again, gripping the chair tight to hide your trembling. 

"By now I'm sure you've noticed something is missing. Well, here she is. Still alive, as you can see. At least for now." 

The click of the revolver was loud in the otherwise-silent room, and you squeezed your eyes shut. He was going to kill you. He was going to kill you and send the video to Johnny. Johnny would never survive that, he'd never get over it, this would destroy him– 

"She is still alive by my grace, Mr. MacTavish." Something cool brushed the skin of your temple, making you flinch hard. But the gun didn't retreat, just shifted down to just under your ear at the hinge of your jaw. "Now, I propose a trade. If you cease your actions immediately, I will let her live. If, however, you continue on your current course…" The gun left your skin but a moment later there was a loud bang. You screamed, ducking your head down, unable to help yourself. Your ears rang with the shot, unbelievably loud in the enclosed space. 

"Well, I think you get the picture. Decide quickly, Mr. MacTavish." 

The man took a step away from you and you looked straight at the camera, eyes wide, heedless of the tears streaking down your cheeks. 

"Johnny, don't–" 

The pistol whipped across your temple. For a moment, you didn't feel anything. Then pain blindsided you, warm wetness flowing from your temple freely to mix with your tears. You choked on a gasp. 

"Tick tock." The man sounded completely unbothered, steps just as smooth as ever. He must have turned off the video, because you heard rustling sounds, and a moment later he spoke again. "That was quite foolish of you. Let's hope, for your sake, that you remain quiet now. Or my patience may wear out." He walked across the room without turning off the light or unbinding you. 

The click-shink of the door closing and locking sounded terribly final to you. 

–

Soap felt like he was losing his mind. He'd sent the code to you three and a half days ago. It had taken a while for him to get to his selected agent to exfil you, making sure he knew the protocols you two had in place. 

But the soldier had reported back that you were gone. The cabin had clearly been inhabited, your backpack was still in the bedroom. 

But you were gone. 

Soap knew you, knew you wouldn't take off without your things and without reason. Especially not since he'd been drilling the importance of your safety into you for years. 

Something had happened. Someone had gotten to you first. Based on the lack of blood or visible signs of struggle, someone had gotten to you and given you the code. 

This had been an inside job. Someone had known all of his contingencies and gotten to you. That narrowed the pool considerably. 

But still not enough. 

"Soap."

There had to be more he could do. He needed to be searching for you, he needed to make sure you were safe, he needed to–

"Johnny!" 

He blinked when Ghost grabbed his shoulders, physically forcing him to stop. Soap took a deep breath, feeling like it was the first he'd taken in hours.

"Calm down. You're no good if you're panicking." 

Soap snarled, pulling away from Ghost. "I need ta get ta her! She cannae get hurt, no' fer me." 

"We will find her," Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest, immovable. "And when we do, you need to be sharp." 

"Ah am!" 

"You've gone full Scot." 

Soap swore, and then swore again because Ghost was right. Not that he had a chance to admit it. 

His phone pinged. For a moment, neither man moved. Then Soap pulled it out, eyes going wide. 

There was a video message from you. 

He hit play immediately, going cold as he watched. Your scream sent his heart all the way down to his feet. His hands were shaking. 

He knew exactly who had you. Who, but not how or where. 

His phone was plucked out of his unresisting hands and Ghost was saying… something. Soap couldn't hear past the roaring in his ears. 

You were supposed to be safe. You were supposed to be away from all the shit in his life, safe from the darkness and the filth. 

And now this one man held your life in his hands. 

"--p. Soap. C'mon." Ghost pushed him a little, and as the rage and panic receded enough for him to feel more or less cognizant, Soap realized he was being herded to Price's office. 

"Soap, Ghost." Price looked between the two, eyes narrowed. 

"Captain." Ghost held out the phone without another word. Soap didn't watch, couldn't watch from where he stood, feet too heavy to move on his own. 

But the sound of your scream… that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

"Fuckin' hell." Price leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When was this sent?"

"Just a few minutes ago." 

Price nodded, setting the phone down very gently. "I'll see if we can get any location data from the message." 

"And the rest of it, sir?" Ghost didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. But the tension in the room was undeniable. 

Price breathed out slowly. "He's targeting Soap," he murmured with an apologetic glance at the Scot. "Means he doesn't know the rest of the 141. Everything was addressed just to Soap. For now, we'll back off to recon only." 

"Copy that." Ghost did finally glance at Soap. "And her?"

Price was silent for several moments. "We have to assume she's alive." 

Something in his chest loosened with his captain's confidence. Price assumed she was alive, so Soap would too. Just because she'd been bloodied didn't mean she was dead. 

But it did mean that the arsewipe who thought he could hurt you would pay dearly for every drop of blood he spilled. 

It took far longer than Soap was comfortable with for Intel to find you. (Any time was too long, any time spent with that rat bastard was unacceptable, the sound of your scream echoing in his head on repeat, your blood-stained skin etched behind his eyes.) 

But they did find you. Price organized the raid. The best and worst thing? He hadn't taken you far. A couple hours from the cabin. Not far at all, in the grand scheme of things. 

Price led, with Ghost finding a good sniper spot around the back. Gaz and Soap followed Price in. The goal was to do this as quick and quiet as possible. 

The building had once been a home, but had been renovated and added on to before being abandoned. There had been no up to date plans of the interior that Intel could get their hands on. 

All they had to go off of was the video. That damned video. 

Two sentries outside. Price dispatched one, Gaz the other. Soap hung back, watching through the one uncovered window. 

No movement inside that he could see. 

The snake cam showed one more guard inside, back to the front door, focus on something further in. 

"Gaz." Price kept his voice low, almost too low to hear, but Gaz knew. He nodded, testing the door. It swung open slowly with the faintest of creaks. 

"Don't even with me, George," the guard started without turning. "Your break–" 

Price slit his throat, silencing him. The body slumped to the ground. 

Gaz went first, creeping slowly further into the house. A woman sat in a room further in, typing away on a laptop and speaking quietly into a phone. 

"...the Cayman account. Yes I'm sure. I don't pay you for your opinion, just get the money moved. Now." She hung up with a short sigh and then stood. "Ray? I need the car, Mr. Hammond will be late to his next appointment." 

Gaz moved silently behind the woman, clamping one hand over her mouth and his other arm firm around her middle. Soap pounced after her, quickly restraining her arms. Gaz dragged her outside at Price's nod. 

Price and Soap continued on, moving silently through the building. The rest of the building was clear. 

Except for one last door, in the middle of the house. Soap pressed himself to the wall on one side, Price on the other, both listening hard. 

"You see, I'll be leaving momentarily." Hammond spoke calmly, as if this was nothing more than a meeting. "I can leave you here to the tender mercy of two of my men, or I can shoot you now." 

Your muffled whimper sent Soap's blood boiling, rage tightening his muscles. 

"Don't look at me like that, it won't help you." Hammond was quiet for a few moments longer. "Well. I suppose I'll let you live for now." Footsteps approached the door, and it pulled open into the room. 

Soap lunged, tackling Hammond around the middle into the room. The first punch hit Hammond right in the eye. Soap didn’t even feel the impact against his knuckles. He didn't realize he was cursing, either. He just punched Hammond, again and again. 

Until a hand caught his, hauling him back. Soap turned, lips curled back in a snarl. 

"Easy, Soap," Price barked. "That's an order." He shoved the sergeant more or less gently in your direction. 

Price must have cut you loose, because your hands were over your mouth, wrists rubbed raw and oozing. Blood still stained your skin from the injury Hammond had given you. 

You were also the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Darlin'." Soap lurched forward, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands hovering an inch away from your face. Shame washed through him, hot and bitter. You were here because of him, you'd been hurt because of him. How could you ever forgive him, ever want to see him again? 

Except you hiccuped a tiny sob and your hands covered his, pressing them to your cheeks. You leaned into his touch, heavy and desperate as you started crying again. "Johnny," you whimpered, hands convulsing around his. 

That was all the convincing he needed. Soap pulled you in slow and careful until you could hide against his shoulder, one hand carefully shielding your wounded temple, the other rubbing across your back. 

"Yer alrigh', darlin'," he crooned. "I got ye. My sweet bonnie, my darlin' lass, I got ye." 

–

You had no idea how long you sat and cried against Johnny's shoulder. Long enough that you ran out of tears. Long enough that your breathing evened out. 

But you still flinched when someone else cleared their throat nearby. 

"Jus' my Captain," Johnny murmured to you, his hand never ceasing its soothing rubbing along your back. 

"We need to go." The Captain's voice was low and rough. You risked a careful peek over Johnny's shoulder and the Captain gave you a tiny smile, standing guard at the door. 

"Can ye walk?" 

You blinked a few times and then nodded carefully. "Slowly," you agreed. 

"Alrigh'." Johnny stood and helped you to your feet, holding you steady. Hammond was gone, something that you noted absently and were eternally grateful for. 

"Gaz and Ghost are in one car," the Captain told you both (mostly Johnny). "We'll take the other."

"Rog." Johnny kept one arm around you, helping to support you out. You tried not to look at the blood splatters on the floor and ground. 

Rather to your surprise, the Captain opened the door to the backseat for you, and Johnny helped you in before quickly scooting in next to you. 

"We'll head back to base," the Captain said as he started the car. Ahead of you, you could see the other car leading the way. "We'll need to take your statement." It wasn't until his eyes met yours in the rear view mirror that you realized he was speaking to you. 

"Okay," you agreed quietly, though the thought of having to relive the last few days sent your pulse racing. 

The drive was silent. Johnny refused to let go of you entirely, holding your hand and rubbing your knee, both relatively uninjured areas. 

You shuddered to think how you'd feel tomorrow. 

You had no idea how long the ride was. Long enough that you were nodding off against Johnny's shoulder, only to wake going over a bump. 

"Easy," Johnny murmured in your ear. "We're almost there. Then we'll get you patched up." 

You nodded, squeezing his hand. You just wanted to go home and sleep for a week and forget any of this had ever happened. 

The transition from the car to medical was… a lot. There were a lot of people and a lot of talking over your head. But Johnny refused to let go of you the entire time, staying glued to your side. 

But you still could never remember how exactly you got to medical, sitting on a cot while someone cleaned blood off your face, Johnny sitting pressed up against your side. 

"We should do this now, before you forget anything." Price lowered himself into a chair in front of you, out of the way of the nurse cleaning you up. You realized with a little start that your wrists had already been bandaged, and when you tried to lift a hand to check your forehead Johnny caught you. 

"Best not, darlin'," he murmured, low and concerned. "It's taken care of." 

You pulled in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you nodded. Your hand fell limp unto your lap. "Okay." 

Price nodded, setting down something on his knee and motioning for you to proceed. 

You started slowly, stumbling a little. How you got the text and packed up a backpack. How you followed protocol, doing everything exactly as Johnny had planned. 

How you got to the cabin and waited. And waited some more. 

"He knew my name." You felt a little bit floaty by now. The nurse had gone, too, leaving you with the two men. "He called my name through the door." 

Johnny looked worried, squeezing your hand gently. "Did he know the all clear?" 

"He did. Not at first, he said… said you'd sent him to pick me up. But when I refused to open the door, he gave the all clear." You blinked slowly and licked your lips. 

The men exchanged another significant look. You just reached trembling fingers for the cup of water. 

Price rescued you, handing it over and holding it until you had a firm grip. "Then what?"

You sipped the water and shrugged. "Well, I opened the door. He knew the all clear. He told me to leave my things, because we needed to go." You paused, tipping your head a little. "I think he drugged me. It gets fuzzy, but I think I remember something hurting my neck, and maybe being set down in the car?" 

"Okay," Price murmured. "We're almost done. When did you wake up?"

Your hands started shaking. "A few minutes before that video." 

"You don't need to tell us about that," Johnny was quick to assure you, shooting Price a look as if to keep him from objecting. "What happened in between waking up and the video?"

"Not a lot. He didn't say much, just said…" You swallowed hard, hand clutching tight to Johnny's. "Said he needed me alive, but not necessarily unharmed, so I should behave." 

Johnny rubbed your knee soothingly. "That should be enough, aye, Captain?"

"Just one more question." Price leaned forward a little. "After the video ended… what did he say?"

You looked away, swallowing roughly. You didn't think you could physically cry anymore, but you wanted to. "That what I did was foolish, and I should remain quiet or he'd kill me." Your next inhale was shaky. "He wasn't planning to let me leave alive no matter what Johnny did, was he?" 

"No. He wasn't." Price turned off the recorder and patted your knee. "Get some rest. You too, Soap." And then he was gone, striding away. 

You leaned more heavily into Johnny, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. "Are we done?" You couldn't raise your voice above a murmur. 

"Yeah, we're done. You did so well, darlin'. So well." Johnny pressed feather-light kisses to your temple and cheek. "Drink the rest of that water, aye? You're dehydrated." 

You drank, and then laid back in the cot when Johnny helped. His hand leaving yours caused you to struggle into sitting again, a pained noise leaving you. 

"Easy, darlin', easy," Johnny assured you. "Just moving this cot so I can get some sleep too." He dragged the cot right next to yours and then laid down, once again holding your hand. There was open pain in his gaze as he looked you over again. "I am so sorry."

"Don't. Don't apologize for him. It's not your fault." You held tight to his hand, frowning and ignoring the pull of the butterfly bandages at your temple. 

"But–"

"No. They chose to do awful things, not you. Don't take the blame for them." You dared to scoot a little closer to him. "Please, Johnny. Don't let this destroy either of us." 

His eyes widened and a moment later he was curled around you, trembling minutely. His breathing was fast and shaky, unsteady. But you held firm through it all, lifting one hand to rub at the soft, prickly short hairs on the side of his head until he calmed. 

"You're a bloody marvel," he finally whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. "And you need to sleep."

"Stay?" You pressed your hand to the back of his head, gently holding him. 

"As long as you'll have me," he vowed, quiet and sincere. "Maybe even a bit after that." 

"You'll be waiting a long time," you murmured. Your eyes were closed and you couldn't pry them back open. Thoughts were hard to keep track of. 

"Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin'." 

You meant to reply, you really did. But between thinking of a response and trying to actually say it… you fell asleep. 

But you wouldn't have it any other way. 

[whateveriwant]

Heads or Tails

Summary: Ghost has undergone a lot of changes recently, many of which you find concerning. So you concoct a plan to try to bring the old Ghost back, the first and most crucial step: getting rid of that new mask.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: ~4.0k

Warnings: language, slight physical aggression, some uncool boundary crossing, my attempt to sound Bri'ish

A/N: Hello! So this is a new endeavor for me! I've never written for Ghost or CoD/MW before, but I've recently become obsessed with interested in the characters, and so wanted to give it a go. I was rushing a little to get this out, but I really hope you enjoy! :)

"Bet it's a fetish or somethin'."

Your neck nearly snaps as you swivel to the left, your eyes bugging at the Scot's words.

"Probably humiliation kink… Maybe breath play," Soap ponders aloud, eyes trained across the room pensively.

"Nah, mate. I reckon it's a bad trim, or some bad ink," Gaz adds from your right, making you pivot in your seat. "What'd you think? Tribal or teardrops?" He gestures to his own face, attention also drawn straight ahead.

As the two go back and forth positing ideas, your own eyes are finally steered to the figure in question. This conversation, like seemingly all the ones as of late, is centered around one topic and one topic only.

That damn mask.

While Ghost's signature masks are nothing new to the members of the 141, this one in particular has had you all scratching your heads for weeks. Much like his other balaclavas, this one is dark with a contrasting white skull, only this mask has one minor addition that none of the others have ever included: A big, bouncy puffball right on the top of his head.

When you first saw it, you honestly thought it was a joke; you were on a mission in the tundra, after all. But as you started to laugh, the sharp, deathly glare the Lieutenant gave you had you immediately snapping your mouth shut, averting your eyes out of respect.

Where he got that mask, you hadn't a clue, but you figured it would be just a one time thing anyway. However, that assumption turned out to be entirely wrong as Ghost continued to wear it again and again, no matter the mission conditions. Not only that, but he's also been exclusively wearing it around the base too; that is, whenever you do see him around the base. 

It's been weeks now and you haven't spotted him without that ridiculous mask once. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he wears it 24/7. But that can't actually be the case unless he likes waterboarding himself with every shower, which if he does, then good for him, you guess.

Though you have a lot of questions you'd like to ask the Lieutenant, the one eating at you the most is why. Why the switch up? Why the obsession with this specific mask? Why all these little changes you've noticed about him over the past several weeks?

Because that's the thing. Beyond the pom pom, there's something about Ghost that's been… different. Better, even, in some regards, but there's also been a massive decline in others. 

Out in the field, he's shown significant improvement. His aim has been sharper, his knife skills cleaner, hell, even his walk has been more sure-footed. While Lieutenant Riley has always been the cream of the military crop, for the last several weeks, he's been on another level.

Off the field, however, is a different story entirely. Instead of the man you thought you knew, it's like you hardly recognize Ghost anymore. He's been much more curt, closed off, and dare you say, a downright cunt to you all, and that doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of all the other discrepancies you've noticed with his character. 

Like why has he been avoiding the team much more than he ever used to, or why does he immediately shut down any attempts at getting close with him? He's never been an incredibly open or approachable man per se, but it's like he's gone full blown antisocial recluse now.

The sudden switch in his behavior just didn't make sense to you, so you tried casually bringing it up to Price one day, hoping maybe he had an explanation that would help piece things together. In response, however, your Captain simply shrugged his shoulders, dubbing the mask Ghost's "good luck charm" that must've just gone to his head. 

While you didn't necessarily have a better answer yourself, Price's conclusion wasn't good enough for you to accept as the truth. Maybe a lucky rabbit's foot or good luck coin or whatever could explain away Ghost's overnight tactical improvements, but it didn't answer the why of everything else. 

Why has Ghost changed so much?

As you reflect, the sound of Gaz and Soap's continued discussion slowly brings you back to the present, making you blink out of your stupor.

"...been acting all off. Like he's… paranoid or something," you hear Gaz say regarding Ghost. "Like, the other day for instance, when we got dropped off back at base, I swear, as soon as his boots hit the ground, he was booking it like he was about to get shot." 

Well, that's certainly a relief. Not that Ghost is acting strange, but that at least you're not the only one to notice.

"I thought maybe he was just sensitive to the floodlights – those things were ruddy blinding that night – but when I tried to catch up and ask him, you'd think I was chasing him from how fast he ran," Gaz adds.

Though that's a bit unexpected on Ghost's part, you suppose it's not all that uncharacteristic anymore. He's been increasingly aloof nowadays, and while you're not totally sold on Gaz's paranoia claims, you definitely see the cause for concern.

"Y'know, I think you're on to somethin'," Soap agrees with Gaz's conclusions. "Just the other night, 'round two in the mornin', I caught him rummagin' around the kitchens like he was afraid to get caught."

"Hold on," Gaz interjects, craning his head to face the other Sergeant. "What were you doing in the kitchens at two a.m.?"

"Mind yer business, that's what," Soap huffs, waving his hand dismissively. "But anyway, even then he was still hidin' beneath that bloody mask. I cannae even remember that last time I saw him without it," he says, almost dejectedly.

You can't remember the last time you did either, though you're not as beat up about it as Soap is. The man seems to have a certain fascination with staring at his Lieutenant's bare face that you can't say you totally relate to. 

As Soap continues thinking to himself of when last he saw Ghost without his mask, he suddenly snorts, smiling as he tells you, "Y'know, I once tried to break in his room and steal that thing while he slept, but the lad has some unpickable locks on his door, I tell ya," he chuckles.

"Oi, you mental or something?" Gaz's voice pitches up. "Trying to steal his mask? You'd be lucky if he didn't string you up by your bollocks just for thinking it."

Soap scoffs, peeking over from the corner of his eye. "Oh, come on. Like you've never?"

"I'd like to keep my boys securely attached, thank you." Gaz shifts his weight at the uneasy thought, grimacing slightly.

That has Soap turning fully in his seat, making to confront Gaz head on. "So you're tellin' me you like the new mask? That you don't want to see the fucker gone?"

Gaz shakes his head, mirroring Soap as he similarly turns to face him. "I didn't say that. I'm just as tired of looking at it as you are."

At that, Soap throws his hands up, letting out an exasperated breath. "So let's do somethin' about it!" he exclaims, calling back to his attempted theft.

"Like what?" Gaz huffs. "You want me to ask nicely? 'Ghost, would you please lose the mask? There's only room for one ugly hat around here, and Price has already filled that niche. So sorry.'"

As the two Sergeants continue to bicker over the top of your head, you keep your eyes on Ghost who's still in the room. Thankfully, he appears to be completely oblivious to the animated discussion happening around you. You don't think he'd enjoy hearing how his teammates want to throw his mask in an on-fire garbage bin.

Gradually, your attention starts to drift away from the conversation at hand until you're right back at your earlier conundrum: trying to figure out Ghost's deal. 

Why has he been acting so different as of late? What could have brought on such a drastic change in his behavior? As you think, Soap and Gaz's words lightly filter through your mind, and suddenly, the answer becomes blatantly obvious. 

What's the common denominator in all of this? What seems to be the root cause of all this discourse? It all comes down to one thing and one thing alone.

That fucking puffball mask of his.

Ever since he got that new mask, there's been a never ending stream of changes with Ghost, most of which you'd argue are for the worse. You know it's silly to cast blame on such a normally inconsequential scrap of fabric, but at this moment, there's nothing else that makes sense in your mind.

Maybe the change is because his brain is being squeezed too tight or maybe he's been having a constant bout of heat stroke these last few weeks. Whatever the reason, you can see how wearing that mask has negatively affected him, and you're eager to see that rectified.

"I've got it!" you pipe up for the first time, interrupting the Sergeants who are still verbally going at it. You look between them both before once more bringing your gaze back to Ghost. "I know what to do," you say confidently.

Though the old Ghost you knew has been M.I.A. recently, you don't think he's truly gone, not permanently anyway. He's just been squirreled away for the time being, trapped in a cage of woven black thread. You just hope that, with a little luck and a lot of planning, soon…

You'll be able to set him free again.

~~~~~

You peek impatiently around the corner, seeing Gaz standing at the end of the hall. When he notices you, he shakes his head, turning back to keep watch like directed. 

Annoyed, you check your phone again. Soap said they were on their way five minutes ago. You know it's a maze of passageways between here and there, but still, they should've shown up by now. 

At its core, your plan is simple, but so many pieces have to come together for you to pull it off successfully. One screw up and it all comes toppling down, and you doubt you'll ever get a chance at a redo.

Another 30 seconds pass before you're checking on Gaz again, the man keeping a silent sentinel against the wall. The trap's been set, all you have to do is sit back and wait. But you're not sure how much longer you can handle until you go mad.

Just as you're about to text Soap for confirmation again, Gaz perks up, turning and nodding over at you. Before he can be spotted by anyone else, he slips into the room at his back, quickly closing the door shut.

Finally! It's time. Operation Unmask is a go.

You stoop to pick up one of the items at your feet, counting down from 20 as you hear a pair of heavy boots slowly approach your position. When you finally reach zero, you suck in your breath. It's now or never, baby.

Right before the figure can descend on your hiding spot, you pop out around the corner, colliding directly with the man you'd expected to find. Ghost grunts in surprise at the blunt contact, that damn pom pom on his head bouncing as he stumbles slightly.

"Oh, sorry!" you call out innocently. "Didn't see you there." It's not exactly a lie. You struggle to peer around the tower of boxes in your arms, stacked high enough that you can hardly see a thing ahead.

Ghost grunts again as he takes in the scene you've laid out, thankfully seeming to accept it at face value. "Careful," is all he says, moving to continue in the direction he was headed.

"Oh, uh, actually—?" you stop him before he can escape. "Sorry, but… Do you think you could…?" You shift the boxes deliberately in your hold, hinting at the favor you mean to ask. "If you don't mind. They're really heavy."

This plan all hinges on whether or not Ghost will take the bait. Though he's been less than charitable recently, in the past, he used to be quite helpful to you in particular. That's why you're the one who had to ask for his help. You knew that anyone else, he'd decline immediately.

But you can tell Ghost is hesitant to agree to assist you now, not only because of his recent change in character, but because he was currently preoccupied.

"Price is waitin' for m—" he starts to give the excuse Soap had fabricated to lure him out of his room.

"Please," you cut him short, pretending your situation is dire. "It'll be quick. I just need to get these to my office." That's where you pulled them from initially, filling them with whatever junk you could find to weigh them down. Soap and Gaz weren't thrilled to have to lug them all the way over here, but you had to make them heavy to be convincing, you'd told them.

As if on cue, out of the corner of your eye, you see Soap finally make his appearance at the end of the hall. He turns the corner Ghost had come from earlier, having successfully tailed the Lieutenant all the way from his room undetected. Gaz's timing is also stellar as not a second later, he carefully opens and exits the door Soap passes by.

Luckily, Ghost doesn't seem to notice the two Sergeants quietly lurking behind him – a blessing since, sometimes, you swear he has a pair of eyes in the back of his head. 

He considers you for a moment, staring at the stack in your hands, glancing at the others still by your feet. Though you can sense he's warring with himself, another light 'please' from your lips has him caving with a sigh.

As Ghost bends to grab one of the box towers, that's when Soap really makes his move. The Scot creeps forward until he's within arm's length of Ghost, hand outstretching as he reaches towards the Lieutenant's head. Just before he can close his fingers around the mask – intending to snatch and run, the fastest of you three – Ghost does something that surprises you all.

Without even looking, Ghost suddenly jerks away from Soap's grasp, ducking at an almost unnatural speed and angle. At first, it's like he doesn't even realize what's happened himself, but then he turns and sees Soap standing there, hand caught right in the cookie jar.

"What the fuck d'you think you're doing, MacTavish?" Ghost asks roughly.

Soap blinks dumbly, shocked by Ghost’s quick reaction. "S-Sir," he stutters, his brain trying to catch up with his mouth. "Just… thought… I… saw a piece of lint," he makes up the fib on the spot, then boldly reaches towards the mask again.

Once more, Ghost evades his reach, leaning far back like he's in The Matrix. He growls and slaps Soap's arm down. "You wanna keep that hand, Sergeant?" he rumbles.

In response, all Soap can do is nod his head, baffled into a state of silence. 

"Then fuck off," Ghost warns him not to try again. He then nods towards the pile at your feet. "Or better yet, make yourself useful and pick up a box." 

Still in a trance, Soap immediately complies with the Lieutenant's order. The two grab a respective stack, Ghost directing Soap to walk ahead as he no longer trusts him where he can't see him.

Fuck! This is not at all what you envisioned. This train is rapidly going off the tracks, heading straight over a cliff.

But thankfully, you have a potential backup in place, and Gaz quickly makes his way over as he sees things running amok.

"Ghost?" he captures the attention of the growingly irritated man, who stops and turns at the sound of his voice. "Uh… your shoe's untied," Gaz mumbles once he's under the intimidating gaze of Ghost, and your eyes fall shut at the lame excuse.

Christ, this is all going to shit. There's no way you're going to pull this off.

Somehow, though, Ghost chooses to check Gaz's statement, and he cranes his head down to inspect his boots. "No," is all he says, seeing his laces clearly intact. But before he can stand back up, head still down turned, Gaz takes his opportunity before it can slip away.

Gaz tries to grab for the bloated puffball wobbling in his face, but just like before, Ghost seems to have a sixth sense for it. Again, he bends out of the way, spectacularly agile, and shoots a glare at the Sergeant's gall.

"You out of your fuckin' mind? What's gotten into you lot?" Ghost accuses the three of you, turning to look at you all, becoming increasingly suspicious of what you're doing.

Shit fuck ass balls. You need to act fast. He's starting to catch on. 

Panicked, you do the first thing that pops into your head, dropping the boxes to the floor with a thunderous thump. Ghost's head snaps in your direction, eyes wide in confusion, and they only widen more as you purposefully knock the boxes out of his hands too.

"Whoops!" you exclaim and swiftly crouch down, starting to pick up all the bits and bobs that spilled out.

Gaz realizes your intent and quickly follows suit, stooping down to help you clean up the mess. It's a few seconds before Soap catches on as well, and then all three of you are on your hands and knees, crawling around like a pack of vermin.

"The fuck's the matter with you bunch?" Ghost exhales, unable to make sense of the unfolding chaos. Nevertheless, though, he begrudgingly lowers himself down, electing to assist despite his growing skepticism.

As you go about cleaning up the mess you made, you try to covertly catch the eyes of your accomplices. Without words, you ask them which one is going to make a move, who'll grab for the mask next, but both seem a little reluctant at trying their hand again.

Ugh, whatever. You'll just do it yourself then. Really, how hard can it be?

Slyly, you creep around until you have a good vantage on Ghost, his back partially turned to you. You edge closer and closer until you're nearly bumping into him, pretending to still pick up the items scattered around. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, you raise your hand up, reaching towards the back of Ghost's mask. Just as your fingers graze the fabric, pulling it up a mere centimeter, Ghost jolts, springing to his feet with a start.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he yells.

"What's wrong with you?!" you fire back, your frustrations boiling over. You pop up to mimic his stance, throwing all stealth to the wayside as you figure the jig is up anyway. "We're just trying to help you."

"Help me?" he sneers. "Like hell. You're out to fuckin' get me."

There he goes again with the paranoia Gaz proposed. Though maybe, in this instance, he's not entirely wrong.

"You think we haven't noticed the differences with you? How much you've changed recently?" you continue. "We can see what that thing's doing to you. You'd be better off without it."

Ghost shakes his head in wild perplexity. "The hell are you on about?"

"The mask, L.T.," Soap rises to his feet. "Take it off," he implores.

"Who the fuck d'you think you are giving me orders, Sergeant?"

"It's just a mask, sir, and we've all seen you without one before," Gaz joins the showdown. "What have you got to lose?"

Ghost looks between each of you angrily, pointing an accusatory finger at you all in turn. "You're all way out of line! Get the hell back," he urges as you three start to close in.

"Why d'ya always hide from us now? I thought we were friends, L.T." Soap reaches forward, his hand immediately swatted away.

"Ghost, really, the thing's a bloody eyesore. Just get rid of it." Gaz tries his luck, only to be met with the same result.

Again and again, you all try dislodging the mask, descending on Ghost like a pack of rabid animals. With each swipe and stretch, he expertly dodges your attacks, bending and batting you away like pests.

"Quit fuckin'—!"

"Just let me—!"

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!"

The scene is total, unbridled chaos – voices raised, arms entangled, rubbish littered all over the ground. You three push forward on Ghost until he's backed into the wall, trapped with no way out. He fights and fights, the pom pom jostling around perilously, until finally, bitterly, he's overcome.

Soap gets his fingers hooked under an edge of the mask, and he yanks, pulling it all the way off. For the first time in weeks, Ghost's face is revealed to you all, and you'd be ecstatic if not for one detail that has you freezing.

Is that a…?

No, it can't be. You must be imagining things.

Actually, that looks kind of real. Holy shit, that's definitely real!

Oh my God! Is that a—?

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT?!"

You, Gaz, and Soap all jump back in horror at the sight before you: a plump, little, white rat nestled atop Ghost's head. The rodent seems just as shocked to see you as you are it, and it lets out a small squeak as you lock with its beady eyes, tiny fingers clinging to Ghost's hair.

"Aaaahhh!" Soap unleashes a girlish shriek, dropping the mask as he rears back.

"What the fuck, Ghost? No really, what the fuck?!" Gaz asks dumbfounded, hand coming up to cover his mouth.

Before anyone has a chance to fully process what they're seeing, the rat tugs on Ghost's hair, moving him to scoop up his mask from the floor. He's guided to shove the fabric back on his head, perhaps a little more roughly than intended, because you hear a pathetic squeak ring out as he does.

He points his index finger at you in a threatening manner, the holes over his eyes slightly askew. "Not a word," he grumbles, spinning on his heel. "Not one fuckin' word!" 

And just like that, he takes off down the hall, a fat, pink tail sticking out from under the back of his mask. It takes a moment before you even realize your mouth is still wide open, and you close your jaw with an audible thud. 

Vaguely, you hear Soap muttering behind you, near tears as he cowers against the wall. "Steamin' Jesus, I think I touched it! Did— Did it bite me? Am I bleedin'? I think I'm bleedin'!" he blubbers hysterically.

"Nah, you're alright, mate! You're alright!" Gaz tries to comfort him, unsuccessful as he’s also rattled.

As the two huddle together in the corner, you're left staring after Ghost's rapidly fleeing figure, trying to pick up the pieces of your newly fractured reality. 

That… was… 

Honestly, you're not sure what the hell that was.

A rat? That rides on Ghost's head? Controlling his every move and muscle? You guess that explains a few things about his behavior recently, but mostly, it just leaves you with more questions than answers.

Where the hell did he get that thing? How the fuck does it work? Why did he even think to test it out in the first place?

Actually, on second thought, no, you don't want to know. You've seen enough for one day, or really, one lifetime. 

At the start of this, you thought you had such a great plan to unveil – one that would simply reveal the "true" Ghost again. You didn't realize that in the process of trying to set him free, you would release a whole other beast, literally. And while at your core you still believe your intentions to help were good, you realize now that, perhaps…

Some things are better off hidden.

__________

A/N: Squeak squeaker squeaky squeak! [Translation: Happy April Fools!]

It figures that my first venture in this fandom is a crack fic. I expected nothing less lmao. But anyway, I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

[aetherghouls]

I am relistening to the entirety of The Magnus Archives and it's the first time I've done full relisten since I got infected with Modern Warfare and now I am plagued with a thought of codmw x tma

I'm trying to figure out what Fears would fit each one of them

Of course, considering that they are military, the most obvious answer would be the Hunt; considering that all important police officers in TMA are servants of the Hunt. Besides that also Slaughter, maybe, considering that many statements are about soldiers, however the Hunt makes much more sense, looking at what exactly TF141 specialises in. But I do also think the Hunt would be both too easy and would ignore the complexities of the characters as a whole. So, here's a rough idea of what Entities I think would match each of them the most:

(and a quick TW as I will be discussing many common fears and it's a bit too much to list them all)

— Ghost would either be the End or the Buried – the latter in case we talk about '09 Ghost or take the comic book as '22 Ghost's background too. I don't think there's much to add about him here, he is, after all, considered to be the embodiment of Death in cod.

— Gaz would be the Vast or the Hunt – first one is, I admit with shame, inspired by the heli scene in MW2, but some of the missions we play as Gaz just match it too, though it is kind of a stretch. I was thinking about the Lonely, but he doesn't strike me as the type to be targeted by it in the long run, even more to be its servant. Vast makes much more sense here.

— Soap would be the Desolation – the Lightless Flame is quite obvious in his case, being demolitions expert and all, the way he looks at explosions. It is such a simple choice I didn't even hesitate here. UNLESS we talk about Captain MacTavish, then it's Hunt through and through, no questions asked, he is the hunter.

— Price is kind of tricky in my opinion – he matches the Hunt the most out of them all I think, though all of the team does. Maybe aspects of the Slaughter, the things from statements related to military (which, also drives it into the territory of the End in this case). If we talk about '09 Modern Warfare Captain Price, it is the Lonely, mixed with Slaughter and Hunt and maybe the End, but Lonely is the biggest part of it, looking at how he's the only one that survived through the games.

— Talking about the '09 Modern Warfare, Roach! Couldn't miss him, of course. Lonely, probably, he does strike me as the type that would relish in being alone and so being its servant makes sense, somehow. Though if we play with it more, take his call sign into consideration, the Corruption, but not the way Jane Prentiss was the Flesh Hive, just bugs and the skin crawling parts, no rot or decay. It would tie together with how he could have gotten his call sign.

— Laswell would be the Eye – another easy one, considering that she's mostly there as a kind of an informant, gathering intel and all. Not much more to say.

— Nikolai would also be the Vast – it's tied to him being a pilot more than anything else, spending so much time alone in the vastness of the sky. No notes here.

— Makarov is the Slaughter – just like before, easy one, but I do think that, unlike with Price, it includes all of the aspects of the Fear. Pure, unpredictable violence, cold blooded murder. The Hunt, too, maybe, only if we were to think of him as a hunter who kills for the sake of it, not for the hunt itself but for the end goal (so it's a slight sprinkle of the Hunt, as it is about the process itself, not the end). Honestly, thinking about it like that, I think he could lean into the Flesh more than Hunt? Something to think about for the future.

— Shepherd would be the Web — with how he plots and lies, with everything he did "for the country", the Web is another obvious choice here, it makes perfect sense. He is the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, getting others to do his dirty work, it's perfect.

I have some other thoughts (Graves and Shadows being the Hunt/Slaughter maybe), but this is all I have for now I think. It could easily be mixed more with other AUs (looking at bluegiragi's Monster AU, which itself could give much more nuance to the Fears that could fit the characters based on what creatures and monsters the characters are in that AU. Example: Simon in that AU would be serving the Dark and the End)

No one is probably reading this either way and I don't think there's much overlap in the fandoms, but I do think this is a fun idea of mixing both universes and there's much more to be said about it all, if anyone ever wants to hear me yap more :D

It is heavily unedited and just written in the moment, it may not make much sense and I may revisit this to correct some stuff (like how I keep mixing Flesh and Slaughter into one thing 🧍)

[ghouldtime]

i usually don’t message anyone or anything but i just wanted to say i love your characterizations of konig, ghost, and soap very much. the love and appreciation you have for these characters really come through in your writing.

the cod fandom is full of talented writers but the majority of them write smut. it gets tiring scrolling through the tag and just seeing porn when i actually just wanna see… ppl who enjoy the characters outside of sex appeal, yk? so your blog, truly and genuinely, is a breath of fresh air.

that’s not even mentioning the ppl who write them as abusive or use them to fulfill certain fantasies. i mean i don’t kink shame ofc, but idk sometimes ppl write them in extremely degrading ways that do a disservice to their character and it bugs me a little. plus all the “innocent bimbo reader” rhetoric, idk it gets tiring.

anyway, sorry for the yap session, but i did mean everything i said genuinely !!

💚💚💚💚 Salutations anon! You really don't know how much I appreciate hearing this. Seriously, messages like this give me motivation to keep writing and to stay active on here. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU from the very depths of my heart. You've all been so so incredibly kind, sweet, and encouraging 😭 I don't know what I've done to deserve this but it's appreciated and you all are absolutely awesome. This has made my YEAR, thank you for taking time out of your day to send my silly self a message 💚💚💚💚💚

I'm so so happy my characterizations have hit the mark for some people and that I'm (hopefully) doing them some justice! I'm always worried about that because characterization matters heavily to me and I want to respect their characters and how much they mean to me and other people through it EVEN IF THE WRITERS OF THE LAST MODERN WARFARE DON'T KNOW WHAT A PROPER STORY LINE IS AND KILLED SOAP WHICH I'M NOT FORGETTING, IM NOT FORGIVING, AND IM CERTAIN NOT LIVE LAUGH LOVING WITH IT. I'm refusing to accept he's dead, no matter what they say

I love the boys all so much. They all have such interesting things about them and have a lot more dynamic to them than people think and I just want to represent them right, especially lesser appreciated characters (haven't actually really written for them yet but Keegan, Logan, Hesh, Sandman, Roach, Nikto, Krueger - legit I love them, anyone feel free to send asks or scenarios you'd like I WILL write them. Legit, y'all, you can send me asks about certain characters even if there isn't much on them. I WILL do my research and I WILL write to the best of my ability)

Oh there's many talented writers in the COD Fandom, there really are. I can't say I really know any personally seeing as I never really interact with other blogs but I've seen some reallly really nice fics with so much thought put in them. But equally, there's a lot of just... smut. Not even well written smut, I'm sorry, but a lot of it is just really, really poorly written. I'm all for do what you want, write whatever makes you happy. Freedom of speech! If it makes you happy, cool! But I'm also going to cringe cause a lot of it is... yeah, yikes

Not trying to be the smut police and say every detail must be accounted for and everyone should follow it in a certain way but plz basic anatomy 101, basic prep 101, no guy gal or enby pal will appreciate it if you just shove it in to anywhere dry and I've seen a loooot of that and other things that just hurt?????

I get it, people learn by reading/writing, but this is literally just a single search away. And common sense. There's also a lot of practices being unsafely represented (like fifty shades of gray level) and uh it's not on purpose, it's not meant to be dubious, but it just is written as that. PLEEEEASE please please do some research, the internet is right there

But I felt the same way. Like bless whatever y'all want to write, no shame and NO shade to writing smut. I'll probably eventually do it myself again in the future (undecided on that but it'd likely be a side blog if I do and would never be a main focus, I prefer story over smut action. Once again, no shade and no shame to those who don't, to each their own!). Never ever going to full on NSFW mode or only writing that, I'm always always always going to prioritize writing the characters first and trying to get more stories out there about them :D

But I got tired of opening it and all I see is just... smut, smut, more smut, extremely dubious content x 50. And maybe a sprinkle of normal things or fluff here and there. I just don't look in the tags honestly anymore, because so many people just don't properly tag it or give 0 warning at all, not even under a read more, just BAM, unavoidable unless you flat out don't look at the tags at all

There's more to the characters than just being attractive 😭and I love exploring those aspects of them and trying to figure out why they are the way they are

Also I'm ALWAYS going to have an issue with people who fetishize horrible things. When you're actively fantasizing and writing about someone abusing someone else, like flat out abuse, and being incredibly toxic and terrible to someone - just, please talk to a therapist. That's not social commentary, that's not a proper portrayal of real, HORRIBLE things that affect many people and have very real repercussions - that's perpetuating the negative narrative around a lot of struggles and setting it back by instead turning it into something that's treated as attractive. I really fully can elaborate on this and have a whole rant - but it's not cute and it's NEVER cool to fetishize actual, awful awful things that happen to people. Dead dove doesn't excuse you from judgement - especially when it's not even acknowledged. You're just saying you know what you write is probably morally reprehensible. Hey, I'm going to reprehend and won't respect you at all when you write awful things just cause and get off on it. Think people forget that. Dead dove is a descriptor and doesn't excuse you or make you instantly free from judgement or mean you're not doing something problematic/disgusting. It's just saying you know it is, that's about it.

I don't get why people do that when it's clear they have no idea what they're talking about. I've seen that a lot with the bully! Things. Like... wow, clearly some of you WEREN'T bullied and you're writing about it and it shows because if you were, hey, you know how fucking awful that shit is and how it leaves life long effects. Not saying this applies to all but there's a lot I see like that where it's just ".... wow, okay, so you don't have any idea what you're talking about, cool."

AND YEAH the mischaracterization really does do a great disservice where it's clear they're just after the characters for their physique. They just warp them so bad it's like "Are we talking about the same character?" . In AUs you get to explore that and can shape them to your wants, that's your choice! Highly recommend AU's, it allows so much freedom.

But when it's like.... regular? And it's just no where close and they're doing a 180 in how they actually are (like having Ghost flirt with strangers and be big scary daddy dom im sorry he's not at allllll) I don't get it and it's clear you really aren't writing about or for the character - at that point, plz, make your own characters. Just make your own OCs, it's great! And you can make them HOWEVER you want instead of just ignoring a character's characterization to make them fit what you want. And guess what? It's your character so you can TRULY do what you want and have them the way that you want instead of bending characters to fit a box that they weren't made for

I'm not saying you HAVE to write a character the same as me or in a specific way, but when it's a character with an established personality/backstory, the least you can do is follow that outside of AU's if you're writing for them. That's... the whole point of writing that character - I don't get why you'd write for them specifically if you're literally going to ignore everything about them

SPEAKING OF THE INNOCENT BIMBO THING, I'm also really not a fan. Once again, if that makes you happy to write or read, cool! I just am NOOOOT a fan. Why does the reader always have to be so small and so delicate and so pure/innocent? Why does the reader have to be just so UWU coded? Why are they always like "oh you're so little and small :( and just don't know any better" . It's either that or they're John fucking Wick with little in between. Pleeeease it hurts my soul

Its why I try to genuinely write a neutral geared reader with reactions that will likely fit a lot of people! I'm always taken out of a story's immersiveness when it mentions something like like your hair length or how uwu small you are in comparison. Give me just... average sensible reader. Give me reader who has realistic human reactions. Give me reader who isn't perfect, give me a reader who isn't magically special or different. Give me a reader who is just doing their best, who is THEMSELVES, with no intent otherwise. I love those fanfics so so much instead of trying to feel like I have to be something I'm not to get myself in the mindset to read some pieces NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR YAPPING. IM ALWAYS WANTING TO TALK IM ALWAYS AROUND 💚💚💚💚THANK YOU FOR THE MESSAGE IT MAKES MY HEART WARM AND MAKES ME SO SO HAPPY

[cod-sins]

Can I have Ghost, König and Thomas Hewitt (if you write two fandoms in one) with male reader who is a metal head? Long hair, corpse paint, is fascinated with gore stuff and such.

.ೃ࿐ Format: HCs.

.ೃ࿐ Reader: Male. Heavy Metal!Reader.

.ೃ࿐ Ratings: SFW. Gore/Blood mention.

.ೃ࿐ Word Count: 1.3K

[A/N: FIRST MALE READER REQUEST LET'S GOO! Thank you anon for giving me an excuse to watch TCM again. I also did some similar HCs with König (no mention of gender) you can check those out as well. Also, it was so hard for me to find a picture of a black male with corpse paint *sigh*.]

𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻

Wowie y'all make an interesting duo.

Between his skull mask/balaclava and your corpse paint and dark clothing, you two make a very visually appealing couple. Ghost jokes about how it's always Halloween at y'alls house.

He likes your long hair. Military guys aren't allowed to have long hair so seeing you with long hair is somewhat refreshing to him.

There is something that awakens inside of Ghost when he sees you walking around shirtless with your hair down.

Ghost is another COD character who wouldn't be surprised by your music.

His father used to take him to Bone Licker concerts (sounds pretty heavy metal to me) when he was younger but he stopped going after the prostitute incident. With him being in the military it only drove him further away but if you could convince him to go to concerts with you he would.

He would make sure to mark the date so he wouldn't forget or let his work intervene. With even more convincing he would allow to you paint a skull on his face, he wouldn't wear it out though he'd switch back to his balaclava.

If there was a chance he couldn't make it to a concert or just didn't wanna go, he'd make it up to you by buying you VIP tickets.

Gets really defensive when other guys hit on you. Puts himself between you and the guy. “Yeah his style is nice and all now bug off.”

At first, Ghost would try and shield you from whatever injuries he has. If he came home still a little bruised and bloody from his last mission he wouldn't want you to see, probably heading straight to the bathroom to freshen up until you tell him you aren't squeamish and you're fine with it. Then he would come straight to the bedroom while you clean up his bloody bandaged shoulder.

Thought you were an odd fella the first time he laid eyes on you. It was most likely Soap who set you guys up.

He acknowledges your interest in gore, however, he'd prefer if you kept it to yourself. When he's deployed he's constantly surrounded by it--by death and blood. So when he gets home it's the last thing he wants to see.

Since the majority of Ghost's clothing is dark colors he would mix up y'alls clothing and wouldn't notice.

“Hey, Simon?” “Yeah?” “Is that my shirt?“ He peers down realizing it is in fact your shirt.”Ah, yeah sorry love I guess I grabbed the wrong thing.” He begins to take it off until you tell him it's okay and that he actually looks really good in it.

KÖ𝙉𝙄𝙂

The moment König laid eyes on you he was blown away.

He doesn't see people with your style so he thought you were very unique. He asks you why dress that way and why your makeup looks so crazy. He doesn't mean to come off as rude or anything he's just not used to it and he likes to hear you talk about your interests.

König would shyly ask if you could make his face look like yours. He would let you sit on his lap and watch as you meticulously drew on his face with black liner, on top of the white paint. He'd have a dumb smile on his face after you finish.

Just like Ghost, König would also go to concerts with you. If you were on the shorter side he would pick you up and put you on his shoulders so you could get a better view. The dude is like a rock so when people get a little too aggressive with their thrashing he has you stand behind him so you don't get hit.

Likes when you put your hair up and let strands of hair fall down, thinks it's really hot. König would stare non-stop until you called him.

Wouldn't say anything about your gore interest but he would indulge you in ways he killed/kills people. [cough cough König finishers cough]

He told you about how one time he sniped a man and his brain splattered out on a wall behind him. Or once he snapped a dude's neck so hard you could see the bone about to come out.

König watches closely as your eyes get big and you squirm in your seat as he goes on and on about his war stories.

He glares at anyone who would dare say anything negative about you. That includes his coworkers and supervisors.

König could not tell you the name of the bands you listen to because of the font. He says it looks all scrambled and he couldn't tell which letter is which.

When you told him you thought he was a little intimidating the first time you he giggled and told you, he felt the same way too. People think y'all are like that one scary goth couple in school.

𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑯𝑬𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑻

The first time Thomas saw you he instantly fell in love.

He couldn't stop staring at you, he thought you were sent by the devil himself as a gift.

He is so interested in you especially since you guys look the same. You have long hair, he has long hair. You wear intricate corpse paint that covers your face, he delicately sews people's faces together to cover his.

Thomas wouldn't allow Hoyt [derogatory] to make fun of you. He takes a lot of shit from him but he draws the line at his boyfriend being made fun of.

Thomas prefers your hair over his. His isn't really taken care of. It's all greasy and messy so if you took the time to brush and style it, he'd probably cry.

No one is that nice to him besides his mom. So it'd be up to you to spoil him.

I imagine the type of music you listen to isn't common in Texas, especially on rural Texas radio so he would be very interested in it.

He would have you play it while he's dealing with his victims because he finds the screaming to be very annoying and sometimes headache inducing.

Tommy always keeps an out for you to make sure you don't pass out from the heat. He'd literally be standing there, watching you with your paint running down your face with a concerned look on his face as you tell him you're fine.

He would let you watch him disassemble bodies. Since you're interested in that stuff Thomas thinks it's the perfect bonding experience.

Thomas would also put your ass to work, I'm sorry to say. He believes everyone should pull their weight including his partner.

While his method of butchering is sloppy, he would still show you how to properly gut a person and how to get the most meat off the bones.

He's happy that you have an interest in gore and he would most definitely make a mask for you. If you were to wear it around he would be so unbelievably happy.

You're wearing his art AND you like it?? A match made in heaven.

If you were too grossed out by the whole canniblism thing Thomas would try and find you other food. There aren't a lot of animals in the area but he would try and catch deer, rabbits, or coyotes.

Thomas might have you lure in other victims, and you may have to change your look-up to be more “approachable” so he would lend you some of his clothes. They'd be too big but he and his mom know how to tailor.

He would only do this if you felt comfortable with it, he would never want to put you in harm's way.

I think Thomas would do a lot to make sure you're okay. He doesn't get that luxury and he is afraid of you leaving him for someone else.

You would have to reassure him that you wouldn't leave him because he's pretty insecure about himself and being around Hoyt and Monty does not help.

[gunnrblze]

Mischaracterizations are prevalent in fandoms. I'm curious, which ones of the CoD:Ghosts franchise bug you the most, and make you want to pull out your hair once you see them in fics/other materials?

This question created several additional thoughts, so I’m putting all my yapping below the cut lmfao.

Tbh it doesn’t bother me a whole lot except when it’s a large part of said character, or one of their only canon descriptions/facts/etc. I think it’s great for ppl to create what they want, esp when a lot of the ghosts have little/no info so we quite literally have to make shit up and fill in the likely blanks, but if you’re straying so far from who a character is…😟

Like, Keegan is described and shown throughout the game as being a very quiet man…so it does make me side eye when people portray him as this talkative guy, or someone with a really big personality lol cause that’s just not the vibe. That’s why I rb’d that thing, because I was thinking about how he’s the most popular ghost by far, and I think a lot of those fans aren’t necessarily into the rest of the ghosts game (and they don’t have to be, just an observation). I think that’s why so much of the content made about him outside of the actual ghosts fandom seems out of left field, bc people just kinda take a hot character and do whatever with him (which again, is fine, free will in fandom is good and necessary). I also think that’s why so many people get him confused as being part of other CoD games, because they aren’t aware of where his character even comes from in the first place.

Now this may be a bit of an unpopular opinion bc I know a lot of ppl hate some of the smut aspect that’s written about these characters, because they include themes that are/seem ooc, but I’m gonna be honest…that part doesn’t bother me so much because at the end of the day, people just want to put their fantasies and ideas onto hot masked man…and I get it lmao. Not to say im necessarily gonna read it, esp stuff with hard kink type shit, but it’s more so bothersome when people mischaracterize them because they don’t pay attention to the actual canon character in other fics/materials.

That’s why I kinda separate smut fic from everything else a bit, because a lot of smut I’ve noticed, especially with Keegan specifically, is written ooc, because making it canon/character correct isn’t the point, the sexy time shit is. Now I still prefer reading smut that seems largely in character lol, but I do have to defend the larger idea here that it’s not a crime to write an ooc smut fic because half the time…the smut is the main focus, not the canon/implied personality of the character.

I completely understand the shock of seeing certain smut in the first place (talking about the more fucked up shit here…), especially when it’s then placed on a character you know and love, but it honestly doesn’t bother me that much-and maybe it’s because I’ve been on the internet for too long💀- but that’s kinda the point of fandom I think…doing whatever pleases you, having an outlet. That’s the type of smut I think is very obviously written with the idea in mind, and not necessarily ‘would the character do/behave like this?’. Because yea, these ghost boys would most likely not do all these fucked up things, but I think people still deserve the freedom to write it, and they’re going to anyways lmfao (IF you’re tagging disturbing content correctly, you owe people that much!)

I’ve been having those thoughts for a while now so I had to yap them out of my head lol, but to answer the actual question, aside from Keegan, I hateeee seeing the Walker fam mischaracterized. I think because (it seems) they have more info available on them compared to the other ghosts, so when I see people just giving their personalities a 180 I’m like…Hesh would NOT act like that😩. Especially with Elias because he’s my husband obviously…so people missing larger parts of his character or stuff that’s implied about him makes my eye twitch a little lol.

Also, I don’t typically see a whole lot of ooc stuff for the ghosts in the first place tbh (minus Keegan, bc he has reached the CoD masses of course). Because we’re a smaller fandom, and I think people tend to stay in character more in smaller fandoms (at least from what I’ve seen) because there’s so little content available on characters, and it’s like we’re all clinging to what we DO know about them lmfao.

Thanks for attending my ted talk 💋

[laitbanane]

Moon bullets straight to your heart. (Moon Knight x COD au / GHOSTSOAP)

Continuation of a head canon I wrote a week ago, the brainrot is unstoppable, I'm afraid.

TW: gaslighting, angst, mention of poor mental health, use of simon and ghost.

Simon had a hard time balancing his new lives. Being a lieutenant in the Task Force 141 and becoming an Egyptian's god avatar were surprisingly not compatible. When Khonshu wanted something from him, big or small, he had to immediately end whatever he was doing and it started to put his colleagues' lives in jeopardy. Especially Soap.

Ghost was starting to see through the diety, Khonshu had let it slip that's first choice was Johnny, which made the masked soldier's blood boil with anger and protectiveness. Was it all a tactic to make him behave ? Surely Khonshu could see through him, hell even read his mind and see his feelings towards his sergeant. To use such a vulnerability was really in character for such a childish vengeance-fulled god.

So he cornered the bird one day. Well, he happened to be alone in the rec room at an ungodly hour of the night so he started yelling insults to provoke his persecutor.

"Listen you old geezer, You seem to think that you can control me by threatening to hurt Johnny. There's one thing you don't know mate, I've been controlling you for my own benefits for a while."

A gust of wind made Khonshu's presence known to the lieutenant and Ghost turned on his heels to face the subject of his anger.

" You think you control a god, bug."

" You think you have it all under control Khonshu, that you have me tucked under your rotten wing."

The cupboard started to shake along with the vibrations caused by the deep laughter Khonshu allowed his hollow throat to give.

" I advise you to how more respect to a god, Simon Riley."

It was Ghost's turn to laugh, a laugh that could rival the god's. A laugh filled with sarcasm and disgust, one that expressed his current feeling with the precision he had when he handled a sniper rifle.

"What will you do if I misbehave ? Take back your powers ? Fine, go ahead. I'll be the same damn killing machine without your constant nagging in my fucking ears you bastard."

A staring contest ensued, no one daring to speak. Only frowning faces and eyes meeting hollow cavities.

"I have no feelings, romantic or whatever the hell you may think towards John MacTavish. He's just a subordinate, an annoyin' and clingy one. You need to find better leverage if you ever want me to listen like a good robot. I am not your past puppets. "

A gasp, then the sound of a cup exploding on the tiles near the entrance made Simon's head wipe toward the now opened door of the rec room. Soap, Johnny was standing mouth open in shock, his hands still in the shape of the cup he was holding mere seconds ago.

"Johnny-"

"Simon what the fuck is happening here, who the fucking hell are you talkin' to?"

Ghost marched quickly towards Soap but the sergeant made two steps back for every one Ghost made.

"Soap, please, I can explain."

"Explain what ? That you fucking fooled me into thinking we were close ? That you missed your psych eval again ? When did you start talking to things that aren't even real Si' ?"

Right, he can't see Khonshu. He just heard him said a bunch of bullshit about how he didn't care about him and how he was annoying. Fucking hell.

"Do not talk- I don't want to hear any of whatever you might say to convince me you're not going bonkers. I'm telling Price in the morning. You're fucked up mate."

With that, Soap left hurriedly. Simon sighed, hands on his chest. An anxiety attack, fucking perfect.

He would get discharged and Khonshu could have him as his slave. Speaking of, the god was above Simon's now kneeling figure, smiling.

He was getting what he wanted. A broken shell of a man, a perfect little ghost.