Ghost - Tumblr Posts
Little birdy on my shoulder
Finally!! My rifle has arrived and I can take some photos with it
roach ----> @felixighter
more photos! price ---> @kaomisu
Q: redraw the picture if your character appeared in two (or more) parts of COD
His wife
John "Soap" MacTavish x Black Fem! Reader Summary: The job is done. Now it's time for 1-4-1 to return back to the base with a win on their burly shoulders, at least for everyone but Soap. Getting an urgent call from Laswell on his way back stops that win for him.
TW: slight mentions of trauma responses and home invasion.
"Watcher to Bravo 7-1, how copy?" Laswell's voice filtered through Soap's earpiece stopping his rambling to Gaz and Ghost. The two sighed in relief when he began talking to Laswell.
"Bravo 7-1 to Watcher, we're still in the heli, 20 minutes out but we're near. What's up?" The scot got a look from a new recruit hearing the way he spoke to someone so high up. Should he really be speaking to Laswell so casually?
"You guys did a good job, congrats. Soap, when you get back I need you in the Conference room soon as you reach, it's urgent. Understood? Watcher out." Only the whirring of the helicopter blades could be heard once Laswell's voice cut out.
The worry that was nowhere to be found then sprung into his chest and took over like the plague. All of a sudden? Why now? This isn't the first time something like this has happened, the team getting called urgently soon as they finished a mission, but it was only him who was requested and while he wasn't scared, it worried him just a bit.
The ride suddenly felt longer than it should've. Ghost and the others on the team felt the antsiness leak off Soap in waves which made them(Ghost), a little anxious. As stoic as the masked man is, he's grown very close with his team working with them for so long. He can't help but internally replicate the emotion of his partner in crime, even if it's just for a few seconds. He's found himself doing that with not just Soap, but others as well sometimes and has to remind himself to cut it out.
As the rails hit the landing pad and the doors opened, Soap was out and heading for the conference room. The worry grew when he thought of what or rather who could be involved. That frightened him speeding up his pace to the room while he ignored the looks his team gave him as well as his injuries. Price and the rest followed behind slowly, needing to give the full report to Laswell but they were curious as to what was so urgent.
Time stopped as Soap pushed through the door to the room. There, Laswell stood on the far end of the round table, and by the close end sat his wife and his son of 9 months. His heart sped up when the time seem to go back to normal and he met eyes with his beloved's teary, red ones.
'She was crying. Why? Who made her cry? Why is she trembling?' Soap's mind was running a mile a minute. He didn't realize he was even moving till his wife was in his arms with hers wrapped around him like a vice. His son Bailey was now being held by Laswell who sat near so the two parents could hug.
Soap relished in the taming breath of his wife. She was calming down with her head buried into his neck and her arms around his torso. She wasn't that shorter than him, head reaching up to the tip of his chin. Her hair, in waist-length braids, shoved into a silk bonnet, the hoodie(his hoodie) she wore hung off her shoulder revealing a very visible bruise on her shoulder. She was a mess.
"What happened love?" A kiss was pressed to her temple as he half whispered his question into her ear so as to not startle her. He felt her grip on him tighten before she loosened her arms from him and stepped back, not making eye contact. A breath left her shaky lips before she lifted her head up and spoke.
"I went for a walk this morning with Bailey. I needed some air, my mind wasn't in the right place. What happened at my momma's house on Thanksgiving kept replaying and I needed to get out. So I went on a walk with him, it was just around the yard and then to the Bakery right down the road from us. When I got back, the door was wide open. You know how I am with locking the doors, John. I-"
He watched as her breathing picked up when explaining. He knew what was happening. Her need to over-explain so he believes her, so she knows he understands properly. All the trauma responses he's seen repeatedly from her because of her past relationship. Soon she's gonna start begging him to believe her so he knew he had to put a stop to her rambling quickly.
"Hey hey hey, breathe love. What did I tell you about doing that? I believe you, baby. I know you're telling the truth, calm down." Soap tugged her closer cupping the chub of her cheeks into his large palms feeling her immediately lean into them. His wife was a gentle soul. Sassy and stubborn at times but gentle, fragile even. She knew how to take care of herself, her independence getting the better of her at times. In the beginning, it caused a bit of trouble when they were only dating, she wasn't relying on him even after being together for a year or so but they got that situated after a while.
She looked at Soap with wet lashes, staring back at her protector and lifeline, her husband. She knew he was right, she needed to calm down and breathe. Soap isn't like the man she was with before. He never put his hands on her or even lift a finger in threat of doing so. Never raised his voice, and always made her talk it out instead of walking away. Soap was attentive, loving, and gentle, everything she's never experienced before with anyone. She knew whatever she spits out of her mouth he believed and would die by it.
Once calm, she finished explaining. Nothing looked to be touched or even moved but there was a letter on the table, it was addressed to her and Soap. The only identification of the sender was the letter M. Soap's fist clenched at his sides once he let go of his beloved. His eyes met with Laswell's and she got up and handed his son to him.
Laswell watched as Soap's shoulders untense when he held his son. His first-born child, his bundle of joy, their creation. He really does look like him. He looked back at her as she started talking about what actions they can take for the safety of the two. Soap was promised his family's protection by Shepard, and while the bald traitor is currently off the radar, Laswell intends to keep that promise. She explained the new area they would be moved to with more security and protection, and it brought some sort of relief to her mind.
The door soon opened and in walked Captain Price and his two tag-alongs, Gaz and Ghost. None of them knew of the situation but all their eyes zoomed in on the baby cooing at their Scottish teammate. The woman only Ghost seems to recognize moves just a bit closer to Soap, eyes wet with lingering worry and surprise. Ghost walks over to the two and nods down at his partner's wife who's giving him a small smile. He then looks at Soap, grinning under the mask.
"The lass really does look like you, ey." Ghost saw the grin creeping onto Soap's stubbly face. Pride and joy swelled into the Scot's eyes when he looked down at his cooing son. A chuckle sounded out and he turned to Price and Gaz.
"Lads, this is my wife and this is my son, Bailey." Looking around, his lover saw the surprise in their eyes as he introduced them. She felt how the air turned from tense to breathable and joyous, all because of the smile that beamed off her husband's face. His smile. It always brought comfort to not only her but the people around him.
She was safe now. Leaning on him, she breathed out quietly. Things are gonna be ok. She was Mrs. MacTavish after all.
Foxtail
Character creation is much fun! This style of clothing was inspired by Ghost of Tsushima, which I would highly recommend to any gamer. I found this pose on pinterest and wanted to try it out for myself... I think it turned out pretty cool! Wish I could read the name better to give this person credit, as I couldn’t find the source... But if you happen to know, then please send the name my way!
I just really wanted to draw him ♡
Some mermaid watercolor, wen the duck was learning to paint I guess… can I even post this?
Ghost-mermaid or something =)
Task Force 141 wishes Happy Holidays!
Studying for a latin exam is realising that Papa Nihil from Ghost is called Papa ”Nothing“ or Papa ”Meaningless“. A very late realisation, I know.
Okay sooooo, obviously I‘ve googled ”Emeritus“ now - love how it means ”retired“ or ”obsolete“.
And don‘t get me started on the meaning of ”Copia“ (”abundance“).
A short, silly comic of how Ghost sent Jumpscare to the afterlife (+sketches of younger and current Jumpscare)
Yeah, so I saw the new CoD MW3 ending, and I'll just say
I'll drag canon into the backyard and shoot it like Shepherd shot Ghost in 2009.
Good thing I am writing a fanfiction that sees canon as guidline and not law :)
💀𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒.💀
𝓒𝔀: 𝓕𝓵𝓾𝓯𝓯 𝔀/ 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓲𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓽, 𝓕𝓮𝓶! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻, 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓨/𝓷, 𝓮𝔁𝓱𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱
𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1,384
𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮: 5 𝓶𝓲𝓷 24 𝓼𝓮𝓬
💀𝐵𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒.💀
Ghost was sitting quietly in the makeshift barracks, his thoughts a whirlwind of adrenaline and exhaustion from their recent mission. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the faces of his fellow teammates—Soap, Gaz, and Price—all of whom were showing signs of fatigue after the intense operation.
His eyes eventually landed on Y/n, who was sitting quietly on a cot not too far from him. She looked just as exhausted as the rest of them. Still, there was something different about her expression - a hint of vulnerability beneath the stern mask she wore.
Ghost couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for her. Y/n was a tough soldier, every bit as skilled as any of his male teammates. But despite her strength and independence, he knew that the mission had taken a toll on her just as it had on all of them.
He watched as Y/n sat on the edge of her makeshift bed; her shoulders slumped slightly as she stared off into space. Ghost couldn't help but admire her strength and resilience, but he also couldn't ignore the weary look in her eyes.
As the minutes ticked by, Ghost's gaze remained fixed on Y/n, watching as she seemed to retreat further into her thoughts. It was clear that the stress of the mission had left her drained, and she was struggling to process everything that had happened.
Despite the fact that they were both wearing face masks, Ghost could tell that Y/n was close to her breaking point. He could see it in the tight set of her shoulders, in the way her eyes had a distant, unfocused look.
Ghost could feel the pull of a strange, protective instinct within him. He had never been one to show much emotion, but something about Y/n's vulnerability at that moment tugged at his heartstrings.
Without saying a word, he stood up from his seat and walked slowly over to where Y/n was sitting. She looked up as he approached, surprise flickering across her weary face.
"You okay?" Ghost asked gruffly, his normally stoic expression softened with a hint of concern. He dropped down to sit on the edge of her cot, his eyes never leaving her face.
Y/n gave him a small, tired smile. "Yeah," she said, her voice raspy with exhaustion. "Just...just tired, I guess."
Ghost studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp and perceptive. He could tell that there was more to it than just exhaustion, but he didn't press. Instead, he just nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.
"We all are," he said quietly, his voice gruff but gentle. "That mission was a hell of a ride."
Y/n nodded in silent agreement, her weary eyes meeting his. They sat there in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the base around them faded to background noise as they both took comfort in each other's presence.
"You did good out there," Ghost said suddenly, his voice almost a whisper. "You were in the thick of it, and you held your own."
"Never thought I would get a compliment from you Ghost," Y/n replied tiredly.
Ghost let out a soft huff of a laugh. "Don't get used to it," he muttered, his eyes still trained on her face. "But you deserve credit where credit is due."
Y/n chuckled softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You, giving out compliments? Something must be seriously wrong," she teased, her voice laced with exhaustion and humor.
Ghost rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Don't push your luck," he warned, but there was no real heat behind his words.
They fell into silence again, but it was less tense now. There was a sort of comfort in the quiet. After several moments, Y/n spoke up, her voice soft. "Hey, Ghost?"
Ghost turned his head to look at her, his gaze focused. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice gruff but attentive.
Y/n took a shuddering breath, her eyes fixed on his. "Can I ask you something?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ghost raised an eyebrow slightly but nodded, his expression curious. "Sure," he said. "What is it?"
Y/n fidgeted for a moment, her fingers picking at a loose thread on the cot. "It's just..." she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me, alright?"
Ghost felt a twinge of concern at the vulnerability in her voice, but he nodded again, silently signaling for her to continue.
Y/n sucked in a deep breath, her body tense with nerves. "Do you...do you think I'm weak because I'm a woman?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Ghost's eyes widened in surprise at the question, his expression hardening. He stared at her for a long moment, incredulous. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he asked gruffly, shaking his head in disbelief.
Y/n looked away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I don't know," she mumbled. "It's just...I feel like I always have something to prove, you know? Like I have to work twice as hard to be taken seriously because I'm a woman."
Ghost's expression softened slightly at her words. He understood the feeling all too well, having experienced it himself as a soldier. "You're not weak," he said firmly. "Being a woman doesn't make you weak. You're a damn good soldier, Y/n, you know that, right?"
Y/n nodded, her eyes still fixed on the ground. "Yeah," she muttered. "But sometimes I feel like it doesn't matter how good I am. It's like people look at me and just see my gender, not my skills."
Ghost was quiet for a moment, mulling over her words. "You want my honest opinion?" he asked, his voice gruff but gentle.
"Obviously"
Ghost took a deep breath, his gaze meeting hers. "The people who only see your gender, the ones who don't see how skilled you are...they're blind," he stated bluntly. "You're a damn good soldier, Y/n, gender be damned. You've proved that time and time again. And anyone who can't see that...well, they're idiots."
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise at his harsh yet honest words. "That...that means a lot coming from you, Ghost," she murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
Ghost nodded, his expression softening even further. "You've earned my respect, Y/n," he said gruffly. "You've earned it a hundred times over. You don't need to prove anything to me or anyone else."
As the conversation ended, a comfortable silence settled over the room. Ghost and Y/n sat side by side on the cot, the exhaustion from the mission still heavy in the air, but the tension between them had dissipated.
Ghost spoke up after a few moments, his voice low and gentle. "You should get some rest," he said, his eyes flickering to her tired form.
Y/n huffed a soft, tired laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed, sagging further back against the cot. "But I doubt I'll be able to sleep just yet."
Ghost nodded, his gaze studying her for a moment. "I know the feeling," he said quietly. "But you need to try. You won't do yourself any favors by running on empty."
Ghost gave a small shrug. "I'm used to it," he said matter-of-factly. "I've gone days on end without sleep before. But you, you need your rest. You're human, after all."
Y/n rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her weary face. "Gee, thanks for reminding me," she drawled, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Ghost chuckled softly, the sound a rare display of his amusement. "Anytime," he said dryly. "Now, try and get some rest, yeah?"
Y/n sighed, her exhaustion finally overpowering her resistance. "Yeah, I guess I should give it a shot," she admitted reluctantly. "But wake me up if anything happens, okay?"
Ghost didn't respond immediately, his gaze drifting over her tired features. Finally, he nodded slightly. "I will," he said quietly, his voice gruff but sincere.
2019 Scardy Ghost game graphics. Backgrounds, Icons, Character sheet.
I made a Ghost icon of Ghost in my style, but she’s drawn a little bit more stylistic than my usual. I’m making more this whole month of all the palisman of the owl house, if anyone has any recommendations on what to draw next please share.