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CAPTAIN JOHN MACTAVISH call of duty: modern warfare 2 campaign remastered

Phillip Graves // CODMWII

(CoD x Helldivers 2 xover)

What if I embraced Death Captain Graves on Malevelon Creek while waiting for extraction, amid the napalm strikes and orbital lasers??

I dare you to draw Graves, saying “What!? There’s no book club!?”

🤷

alex keller is not a golden retriever that man is a jack russel terrier

like. look at them. thats the same guy

Promise - Laufey (GHOSTROACH/ROACHGHOST)

🍂🪦

maybe you aren't evolved enough to appreciate female characters who are terrible people but I am. Let women be annoying, self obsessed, entitled, and as much of an asshole as their male counterparts.

No amount of daily "I want sexy female villains to step on me uwu" posts will combat the actual reality of people across all fandoms and all media coming together to violently hate on female villains for doing the exact same thing male villains are praised for. Maybe even a fraction of it.

You all don't want female villains, you want palatable watered down sexy girlbosses. Anything more intense, anything more "un-feminine" and darker and more complex will have you going pee pee poo poo "I HATE HER SHE IS UGLY AND MEAN 🥺🥺🥺😠😠😠😠🤮🤮🤮" while hyping up The Most™ boring bland generic flavourless male incel character of all time because you just "happen" to resonate with him strongly. Lmao.

🏎️🏁 It's F1 Season! 🏁🏎️

(Sgt Kyle Gaz Garrick + Sir Lewis Hamilton)

Bahrain GP is on the horizon! Have a combination of my two current brain rots 😭 I think it's been a running joke among the CoD community that Gaz (played by Elliot Knight the king himself) looks like Lewis Hamilton!

Drawing these two has been so fun! Here's to an exciting F1 season! 🏎️🏁

"Your boyfriend is evil!" "Your boyfriend is cruel and horrifying!" Well, he's a joy to me. Maybe it's a you problem.

Kurtan: “What have we done wrong in the last week?”

Kerry: “…well we did burn Sluggs’ nipples on the radiator”

Kurtan: “..but that was for science”

Kerry: “Yeah, that was for science”

- This Country, series 2 episode 4

actor au🪦…🤭

Writing for the Call of Duty fandom is a nuanced prospect.

You're writing for the humanity within the battered war machine.

It's reverse Pinocchio.

Soldiers were once real boys and girls.

They became the marrionettes of some greater power.

It takes the right circumstances to see the adult human they still are, somewhere in there.

If you're up for it could we get some angsty alex keller x reader, and i mean agnsty, like heart ripping sole demolishing thanks babes hope your havein' a good day 🫶

'Questions'

F!Reader x Alex Keller

WC: 3523 words.

CW: Angst, emotional cheating

Summary: After your boyfriend's last mission in Urzikstan, you felt a shift happen in your loving relationship and you finally discovered why.

Song recommendations: 1 & 2

They say that humans experience heartbreak only once in their lifetime. Not break-ups, not silly arguments that could get resolved with a single phone call..

A heartbreak of great magnitude. The evidence of a great love, the desperate need to repair and put the pieces back together, one by one, even if they no longer fit.

Only the person you love most can wound so deep, cut to the very core and turn your world upside down. What was once whole, shattered in just a moment. What was once home, felt like a slaughter house. What was once your lifeboat, a stranger. You let that negative emotion swallow you and pour acid into your soul.

It was a shard in your guts when you found the photograph. It was clutched tightly in your hand, feeling like a dagger plunged deep into your chest, each glance at its existence fueling the flames of anguish that raged within. It almost felt like it was your fault, to do something so simple as put his uniform in the laundry basket after his anticipated return home. Such an innocent gesture of habit and care, turned into your worst nightmare.

All frisson of love, even if your thoughts turned his way for only a moment, disappeared just like that. The same love that he promised that he'd run into fire for turned into ashes.

It was just that, a photograph. No other concrete proof but the persistent whispers of your intuition. That and the noticeable shift in his demeanour, a subtle yet palpable distance that lingered between him and you even if he tried desperately to conceal it from you. Alex, the man who could not keep his hands away from your body, touched you with traces of hesitance, lost in thought.

At first, you blamed it on the horrors of his job. Perhaps this mission was more of a nightmare than a quick procedure and he needed time to share the burden that weighted so heavily upon his soul. That time never came. Instead, alone in the icy silence of your bedroom, it was you, collapsed onto the frigid floor, about to enter a different kind of battlefield.

It felt impossible, really. How can you exist without loving him? It was like watching two magnets, pushing and pulling until they finally clicked into place. It was as easy as breathing.

Falling in love with Alex Keller was easy. No passing time could ever stop you from yearning to see those azure eyes that resembled the midwinter sky, his mind clear and a smile warmer than the gentle sun. Alex, your Alex.

It was an ordinary Tuesday evening when you first met. From across the crowded room of a busy coffee shop, your eyes met. You were drawn in by his radiant smile, the way his eyes sparkled with joy, the effortless confidence with which he moved. It was like a lightning strike, a sudden realization that shook you to your core. You didn’t know him, not yet, but you knew you wanted to.

It then became a tradition. Every year on your anniversary, you would go back to the same little coffee shop where your hearts finally found peace. It wasn’t fancy, but it was your place, your little secret corner of the world.

Falling for Alex wasn't just about love, it was a journey of self-discovery, a revelation of the boundless capacity of the heart to love fiercely and unconditionally. His kindness in contrast to the man in uniform, radiated from within, illuminating even the darkest corners of your insecurities with its gentle glow. In his presence, laughter flowed freely like a melody, and each moment spent together felt like a precious gift to be cherished forever, even if at times you felt like you didn't deserve it.

How could it end up this way? Maybe your love wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it was yours. It was a battle, a constant fight against distance, danger, and your own fears. While he was away in a foreign land facing death in the face, you were also fighting bravely, tirelessly, because you knew this love was worth every struggle.

You paused for a moment and thought, if the man you met at the coffee shop came across you kneeling on the floor with tears of despair falling on the photograph of another woman, he would've kicked his ass.

Because the man you met, the man you fell in love with, exemplified unwavering allegiance to his country, his soldiers, his cause. He was loyal, relentless, willing to sacrifice all for the greater good and that only infused his character as a lover. He pledged his fidelity with the same fervor and dedication, respected you and gave you a place of solace and security.

It was not just the act of betrayal itself that inflicted the hurt within you, but the profound sense of disbelief and disillusionment that accompanied it. The realization that the person you believed to be your confidant, your partner, your everything, had willingly deceived you across the globe, it was a soul-crushing blow.

And so you picked up the photograph once more and stared for what felt like an eternity. How can you hate someone you've never met? The longer you studied her features, the more a tumult of emotions surged within you, fueled by a betrayal you could not rationalize.

Despite your efforts to quell the rising tide of hatred, it consumed you like a wildfire, leaving only ashes in its wake. With her flowing locks of midnight black hair cascading like braided silk on her shoulder and her intense eyes, deep pools of warmth and strength. You hated her.

Every breath felt like a struggle, as if the weight of his betrayal pressed down upon your chest, suffocating you with its magnitude.

'Thank you, for everything.

Come back to me.

Yours, F.K.'

With trembling fingers, you traced the edges of the words inscribed there. Each one felt like concrete drying in your chest.

All you could think of was that even with a gun to your head, you'd never betray him. You'd never look at another man the way he was staring at her in that photo. As though her gaze held all the world's greatest treasures.

Their eyes, like windows to their souls, conveyed a profound connection forged through the depths of their shared experiences. Something you could never give him even if you were willing to give up your soul to do so.

The woman's eyes shimmered with affection, reflecting the warmth of her heart as she gazed at your boyfriend with unwavering devotion and Alex, in return, mirroring the same adoration in her presence.

Who was she? The answer was simple. A woman who could understand every part of him. A woman that he wouldn't have the need to hide his demons from. A woman who met both the good and bad in him, the parts that he so desperately tried to hide from you once he walked through the door after every mission.

Was she his emotional anchor? Did they fight side by side? Did she mend his wounds? A beak of light in the horrors of war? While you were barely surviving the late night thoughts, crying in your pillow for his safe return, was she holding him tightly?

Tears cascaded down your cheeks like the waves of the sea storm you were lost in. Drowning in a sea of unanswered questions and unspoken truths that only one person could answer and suddenly, the darkness of the room pressed in around you even more. Enveloping you in a shroud of hopelessness as you struggled to find solace in the emptiness that surrounded you.

''Y/N?'' His voice, once a source of comfort and solace, now pierced through you like a dagger, igniting a visceral reaction of revulsion and disgust.

As he stepped into the room, the vibrant energy that usually accompanied him seemed to falter when he spotted you, huddled on the floor, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

With gentle steps, he approached you, his voice soft and tender as he kneeled beside your frame, reaching out to brush a stray tear from your cheek.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Alex asked, his words a soothing balm against the raw edges of your pain.

There was a vulnerability in his voice, a rawness that mirrored the ache in your own heart as he waited with bated breath for your response, ready to offer you the comfort and support you so desperately needed. Only if he knew that this would be the last time.

''Please, talk to me baby-'' He murmured, his words a desperate plea for understanding.

As you continued to sob, your anguish palpable in the air between you, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him, a gnawing ache that twisted in the pit of his stomach.

In the midst of your tears, anger coursed through your veins like a raging inferno. How can the touch that you once craved suddenly feel like a slap in the face? How dare he try to soothe you now, after being soothed in the arms of another woman whilst you were lying sleepless with concern, your thoughts solely drifting to the dangers he was facing in a land far from home, away from you.

With a trembling voice, you finally found the courage to confront the man before you, each word laced with anguish and disbelief. "Was it worth it?" You whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of your sorrow.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as Alex stood bewildered, his brow furrowed in confusion clearly naïve to the storm approaching with force.

"What- Did I do something?" He questioned, his voice tinged with a note of uncertainty, as if he was tiptoeing through a minefield of emotions, unsure of where to step next.

''Was she worth it?'' Your heart pounded with a ferocity that matched the intensity of your rage, each beat echoing the searing pain that gnawed at you from within as you seethed the question once more, your words cutting through the air like a sharpened blade.

With each passing moment, the weight of your question hung heavy in the air, a silent plea for him to acknowledge the pain he has caused, to take responsibility for the wreckage of your relationship.

Alex's expression was a portrait of shock and confusion. His mind was visibly racing, trying to make sense of the sudden accusations hurled his way, each word landing like a blow to his chest.

"What are you talking about?!" He stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief, as he searched your face for any sign of clarity.

As he struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation, his gaze fell upon the photograph cradled in your lap and realization dawned like a thunderclap in the silence. His heart sank as he recognized the faces on it, turning gray from the wetness of your tears, a damning testament to his own betrayal staring back at him with accusing eyes.

''Her, Alex! I'm talking about her!'' With a forceful shove, you sent him stumbling backwards, your eyes flashing with righteous indignation as you stood up, your body tensing with pent-up fury.

In the heat of the moment, you hurled the photo at him and watched it land on his lap, his betrayal laid bare for all to see. For a moment, there was silence, a heavy, suffocating silence that filled the room like a leaden weight.

Shock washed over him like an icy wave, numbing his senses as he grappled with the realization. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat of guilt and remorse that threatened to consume him whole.

As he stared at the photograph, every detail etched into his memory like a scar, he felt the weight of his actions bearing down upon him like a crushing wave. The truth stared back at him, unflinching and unforgiving, a stark reminder of the pain he has caused.

In that moment, your intuition was confirmed with a clarity that cut through the uncertainty like a beacon in the night. You knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that your suspicions were not unfounded, that the truth you had sensed lurking beneath the surface had finally come to light.

With a trembling breath, he pushed himself up from the floor, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each step carried the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Standing before you now, he searched for the right words, his throat constricted with emotion.

''Y/N, please-'' Your boyfriend stammered, his voice thick with desperation. Every syllable felt like a weight upon his chest, each sentence a struggle to bridge the chasm that had opened up between you.

Hopelessness clawed at his chest as he searched for something, anything, that might've convinced you to listen to him.

''Please, let me explain-'' He pleaded, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

''Did you cheat on me with her, Alex?'' You demanded, your words laced with accusation. It was a question you never thought you'd have to ask, a nightmare you never imagined you'd have to face.

Tears glistened in his eyes, betraying the turmoil that churned within him as he struggled to find the strength to answer. His throat felt tight, constricted by the weight of his guilt and yet he knew that he owed you the truth, no matter how painful it might was.

"I didn't cheat-" Alex insisted, his voice coming out in choked sobs, the pain apparent in each word and eyes pleading for understanding. "I swear it on everything, I would never betray you like that."

"I love you-" He implored, taking tentative steps towards you with his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. His eyes were fire in water, if you can imagine such a thing, fixed on you, pleading for a chance to explain himself.

With each stride, he felt the weight of his mistakes pressing down upon him, but he knew he had to press on, give another fight. The most important one. "I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, you have to believe me."

As he spoke, you watched him closely, eyes tracing the contours of his face, searching for any sign of deception. Though his features betrayed a vulnerability that tugged at your heartstrings, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was more to the story than he was letting on.

The soft glow of the moon spilling through the window, casted a gentle radiance upon the man you so wholeheartedly loved as he stood bathed in the moonlight, the intricate designs of his tattoos coming alive, their lines and curves dancing across his skin. The way his physique was sculpted with the grace of a sculptor's hand and mesmerizing blue eyes, each glance like diving into the depths of the ocean.

You drank in the sight of him, savoring the familiar lines and curves that you had come to know so well, knowing deep within that it would be the last time.

In a moment of clarity, the tears as swiftly as they came, began to dwindle, leaving behind a trail of glistening tracks upon your skin. A sense of numbness washed over you, a veil of detachment that shrouded you in a cocoon of solitude. It was as if the floodgates of your emotions had been sealed shut, leaving you adrift in a sea of emptiness.

''What's her name, Alex?'' Your voice sliced through the tension like a knife, each syllable ringing with a fierce determination.

With a sense of last resort, he gently extended his hand, fingers trembling slightly as they inched closer to your body. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, a silent plea for connection in the midst of your turmoil. But as his hand brushed against you, your body recoiled, tensing beneath his touch.

The man's heart sank as he watched his lifeboat pull away, his gaze brimming with a mixture of sadness and defiance.

''Farah.'' The whisper of her name could almost be described as inaudible, if it wasn't for the dead silence of the night. It was a name that you'd heard before, once or twice in his stories but that time, there was something different about the way he said it, a longing, a hint of nostalgia that cut through you like a knife.

''Farah-'' You repeated the name, the sound barely more than a breath as it escaped your lips, echoing softly against the walls and as you watched him, you couldn't help but wonder if your love ever since he came back from Urzikstan, was nothing more than an illusion, a fragile façade masking the truth of his longing for someone else.

With trembling hands, you reached up to touch your cheeks, feeling the remnants of moisture mingling with the cool air. The sensation was surreal, almost as if you were watching yourself from a distance, disconnected from the pain that still lingered within.

''I never cheated on you, baby, please-'' Despite your reluctance, Alex refused to give up, his determination unwavering in the face of your pain. He pleaded, his words falling like a prayer from his lips, each syllable laced with the fervent hope that you'd believe him.

''But you fell in love with her.'' This time, you weren't asking a question but his eyes were enough to give you the answer. They darted away from your gaze, unable to meet yours for fear of revealing the depth of your heartache and the truth that lied within.

"I can see it in your eyes, Alex." You continued, your voice steady despite the tremor in your heart. "You may not have physically cheated on me, but your heart belongs to someone else."

In the somber ambiance of your shared space, your tone trembled with a mixture of sadness and resolved as you confronted your boyfriend, your words heavy with the consciousness of the situation. It was his heart that didn't remain faithful.

''I just don't understand- When did I stop being enough for you?'' Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest, shattered into a million irreparable pieces, and you couldn't bear the weight of your pain any longer.

With each passing moment, your despair deepened, a gnawing ache in the pit of your stomach that refused to be silenced. You needed answers, needed to understand why he would betray your trust in such a cruel and callous way.

"Please-" You begged, voice barely above a whisper yet echoing with the weight of agony. "I need to know why."

''It wasn't you, Y/N. It wasn't your fault. None of this was your fault.'' With a defeated resignation etched upon his features, he finally met your gaze, his eyes brimming with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance.

''I know. It's her. Ever since you came back from that fucking mission, it's always been her.'' With a heavy heart and tear-streaked cheeks, you took a deep, steadying breath as you wiped away the remnants of your sorrow.

Your movements were deliberate, hands steady as you slipped into your shoes and reached for your jacket, the fabric cool against your fingertips.

Each movement was a silent affirmation of your resolve, a testament to your strength in the face of heartbreak. You knew that you could not stay in that place of pain any longer, that you must find the courage to walk away from the crumbled castle you spent years living in.

Begging didn't quite capture the raw intensity of his plea, it was a primal cry from the depths of his soul, a plea that reverberated through the room like a haunting lament. His voice was choked with emotion, each word a struggle to find its way past the lump in his throat.

"Please!" Alex pleaded, his voice hoarse and his eyes searching for a moment of hope. "Don't leave me. I can't go on without you." Every word was a struggle, as if each utterance required a monumental effort to push through the pain.

As you turned towards the door, you could sense the heaviness of your boyfriend's anguish, his silent sobs echoing in the quiet room.

It was something your past self needed, the one who was happy in bliss, the one who was imagining a future of growing old together, to turn around and steal a last glance but as you did, you instantly regretted it.

With your heart aching at the sight before you, you saw him crumpled on the floor, his shoulders shaking with grief. His hands were pressed against his face, as if trying to shield himself from the pain of his own emotions.

"I'm sorry-" You whispered, with a finality that could not be ignored. "I'm sorry my love wasn't good enough."

And with one last lingering glance, you turned away, your footsteps faltering as you crossed the room and stepped out into the world beyond, leaving behind the shattered fragments of your love and the echoes of his broken pleas ringing in your ears.

Phillip Graves in "Shadow Siege" | Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

having ocs is like she's my daughter. she's my power fantasy. i'm giving her everything i hate about my personality. she's a war criminal. she's never done anything wrong in her life ever. i love her. i hate her. i'm making her life miserable. who did this to her. she's unlikeable but everyone should like her. she's baby. she does cocaine in the bathroom

Simon "Ghost" Riley is not a rapist.

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not "punish" you so badly you have a miscarriage.

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not tie you up, call you a whore, and tell you to "take it or else"

Simon "Ghost" Riley would not insult your body so bad he gives you an ED.

Sebastian Kreuger would not Kidnap and abuse you.

Phillip Graves would not verbally attack you.

Phillip Graves is not racist or homophobic??

Nikto would not hit you for seeing his face on accident.

König would not throw you against a wall and call you a whore for coming near him, the dude has social anxiety..

idc what anyone says, if you enjoy any of these please get off the internet and figure out a different way to cope, this isn't even proshipper level, this is just wrong.

How are you going to headcanon a victim of SA as a rapist? How are you going to headcanon a victim of a lifetime of abuse as an abuser?

Headcanoning a southern american man as racist and homophobic just feels so icky!

Seriously guys please if you have issues, there are other ways!!!

I'm tired of blocking so many lovely accounts because of the amount of dub-con/noncon/straight up Sexual Assault that's in their reblogs or in the accounts they support and advertise.

There is a difference between tough and straight up fucking insane??? Maybe read the characters backstories and actually take their past into consideration because you guys kinda look dumb for making these characters so OOC. Please get help and keep your gross fics to yourself.

What about Graves with a breeding kink or if reader is pregnant? I know you don't rlly write for him a lot, but I love when you do.

Idk if you'll feel like answering this, but ily and ur fics regardless 🫶

Graves w/ a Breeding Kink

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Possessive Graves, Housewifery, Pet Names,Profanity,  Fem! Reader.

He lusts for the American dream; the very foundations upon which he continues his existence. To have – to create – a family. And he can think of nobody better to achieve that dream with than you.

He’s on top of you, arms either side of your head, gasping, panting, bent over you and exerting every inch of himself as if you were crafted of some divine substance with tools far beyond human comprehension.

He’s been at it for hours now. You see it in the way his hair sticks together, slicked with sweat as it drips down his face, hear it in the thick, wet sound of his cock slipping back into you with every thrust of his hips, feel it in the growing ache in your abdomen as he fills you again, letting out a strangled, short-breathed moan as your body squeezes around him. He doesn’t let up, though.

He pushes through, gripping you by your hips and pulling you closer onto him. You gasp, back arching as he hits a spot deeper within you. An area he’d been abusing all night, 

“B’such a good little mommy for me,” he whispers into your hair, just above your ear. He presses a lopsided kiss there, lip wet from the many times he’s drawn it into his mouth with his teeth.

“Y’want that, Sweetness?” he pants, looking into your eyes with his half-lidded pair. “Want me to–” – he grunts – “want me t’make you mine from the inside out?”

You can’t get the words out fast enough; garbled and twisted, they come out tangled and in knots, as if tripping over each other to reach a unified ‘yes’. With the little energy you have left, you nod with all the enthusiasm your half-gone mind can conjure. Graves smiles, giving a brief, airy laugh. “Knew I’d made the right choice pickin’ you. Knew you’d make a good housewife for me someday,”

You clench. Graves gasps. He brings warm lips to yours as if to press his love there, as if you are to now impart upon him that which he has longed for for years unnumbered; a family.

He angles deeper, presses his throbbing, pulsating instrument into the most inconspicuous part of you that has you arching your back and letting out an almost-scream. Your knees press into the sides of Graves’ waist, tightening around him just as your cunt did. He yells, uses every ounce of his strength to not collapse on top of you, the tip of his nose against yours. Something in him tightens, snaps, and he floods you for the umpteenth time, pressing himself deeper, making sure his seed takes.

Not that you can see for your eyes being screwed shut, but Graves gazes upon you as you bask in the afterglow of his labour, feeling a smile creeping up onto his cheeks as he takes in your every feature. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s seen them, in one form or another, he never stops being fascinated – enamoured – by them. By you.

When you come down, come to, you give Phillip a smile he knows all too well – one that preludes your telling him you’re ready for bed. He all but pounces on you as you turn onto your side, taking you by the wrists and pressing them into the pillow beneath you. A dark glimmer passes through his eye, and he gives you a hazy, slithering smirk, followed by his southern drawl.

“Oh no, Princess,” he says, taking your chin between his fingers.

“We’re not done ‘til I say we’re done.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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100% real 🤣

Ghost's favorite vision of Fix is her in his bed, desperate and breathless as she's split on his cock, hair a mess and chest heaving with stolen air. Her lips are swollen, eyes glassy and almost shiny with tears of burgeoning overstimulation. Her nipples pebbled, love bites trailing from her waist to her neck, hands fisting the pillows around her head. Her thighs are still trembling from her orgasm, brow scrunched with pleasure as she struggling to form words.

Something about it does unspeakable things to Ghost's brain, the sight of this strong, fierce woman under his hands, dwarfed by his larger frame, sated in his bed and completely utterly his. It makes him insane with want, wanting nothing more than to tear orgasm after orgasm from her and listen to her whimper and moan his name with punched out little gasps and pleas as he fucks her into the mattress.

Electricity zips down his spine, itches under his skin and settles in the place where he's buried in her fluttering cunt. Her hands is so much smaller than his as he tangles his fingers with hers, gut coiling with an pleasure so full, so consuming it bleeds his veins dry. The deep, rumbling growl that vibrates his chest sounds almost deafening as Fix arches beautifully under him, groaning and shivering as he rolls a soft breast under his calloused palm.

There's this overwhelming snarl, thunderous inside Ghost's thoughts that just roars 'Mine, mine, mine, all fucking mine-' that would scare anyone else with how utterly possessed, how dangerously obsessed it is. Not Fix. If anything it isn't enough. Even if she spent the rest of her days here, in this exact moment, it wouldn't be enough.

Yet she knows when she draws Ghost in close, kisses him and lets him lick sloppy and desperate into her panting mouth, she can undo him with a single word.

"Simon."