#multiverse cod

[shotmrmiller]

A familiar face pays you a visit a few days after you wake up next to a living Simon Riley.

"Captain MacTavish. You are much younger now than when I last saw you."

His crystal blue eyes widen when he realizes what you've said.

"Captain? That's what I am in yer time?" he asks, his disbelief apparent. "Did I also have a wife?"

Before you can answer him, Simon Ghost storms into the room and locks eyes with MacTavish, whose spine has gone stiff, expecting a reprimand.

"Get out, Sergeant. You're not to be in here again, understood?" his tone is austere.

"Aye, sir." MacTavish mouths an apology your way, and swiftly walks out the door, leaving you alone with the man who wears the face of your husband.

"You," he pivots on his heels to look at you, his eyes dark, swirling with fury, "are to talk to no one here. As far as I'm concerned, you're an enemy. Why the Captain hasn't locked you up in a cage is beyond me."

As you feel that unmistakable feeling of your throat tightening, your eyes well up with tears, causing your vision to blur. Your Simon would never look at you like that— never speak to you like this.

Understanding that this isn't a discussion, you turn away, clenching your jaw to suppress the overwhelming urge to sob. There is a sharp ache in your chest, a poignant sting that relentlessly pierces your heart.

But a harsh grip on your chin jerks your attention back to Ghost so abruptly your neck pops, and growls, "Don't turn your back to me, bint. I'm not done talkin'."

Meeting his gaze, your eyes betray you as tears overflow, tracing a path of glistening sorrow down your face.

"Now I see why you haven't married in this life," you choke out. "You're a bitter, foul shell of a man with no sympathy."

Angrily wiping your cheeks and grabbing at his thick wrist, you lurch it away from you.

You grab at the dog tags that have been hidden under your shirt. "I have been nothing but miserable since I met you. I loved my husband with everything I had and so painfully wished I had been buried with him."

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and you remark, "You may share his body, but you are nothing like him."

"I don't know how anyone could ever grow to love you."

The room is quiet, except for your shaky breathing and occasional sniffle. Ghost remains stock-still in front of you, unblinking. He slowly rises to full height and silently walks out of the room.

You lift the dog tags to press a kiss onto them with a trembling hand, and your thumb runs over the engraved 'Simon "Ghost" Riley' on it.

What have you done?

it's gotta get worse before it gets better :( sorry!

@fruitymoonbeams-blog

part 1 part 3

[thefallenangel2008]

Ok but the fact that Stan managed to stay good despite all that shit that happened in his life is still something I admire about him. I mean, sure, he's an asshole, but he's a GOOD asshole. Personally if I got kicked out, that would be the start of my villain arc. And to think that by that time he hadn't even been through HALF the stuff that can mess a person up in the head. Obviously, the only thing that has kept him going was his family. But what if after he got kicked out or during his homeless days he just went "yk what?! Fuck everything! Fuck my family! Fuck these assholes!" He just went apeshit, because up until that point, what has his family whom he had a special place in his bitter heart for, done for him?

What I'm trying to say is: I really like the Evil Ford AUs, but what about an Evil Stan AU?

[writer-fennec]

I was thinking about Neil Ellice.

He is the actor of a hunter in the Loki series, Soap McTavish in the Cod remake but not Soap McTavish in the OG.

Now, skip towards the Loki ending and the way it is literally aboit developing the multiverse and letting it become branched (which I always interpreted as making fanfiction valid and that's a good reason to why i love the series) that can also fuse togheter.

So maybe one day the branches of 09 CoD and 22 CoD characters fuse tohheter along with all the other universes where the 4 main actors are characters and this automatically bad because Neil is also in the Loki series but at the TVA, implying that there are multiverses of multiverses (brain with me) and all the different versions interact (exept for the actors in our universe since they would know every dingle role they played)

[the-whispers-of-death]

grim reaper stone x guard!dog reader..........

It's very rare that people decide they want to disrespect him, but it happens. And before Grim Reaper!Stone could tell them off himself, Guard Dog!Reader interjected, telling them off for him.

Grim Reaper!Stone would be so confused because usually everyone is wary of him. Before you, no one defended him. They all thought he didn't need protection and he kind of didn't, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

Honestly, with the way he grew up, being protected by someone isn't something he knows. He always thought no one would protect him, no one wanted to protect him. He just thought protection and love was out of his reach, something he was only meant to see others get.

But you defend him constantly, throwing verbal assaults on those who decide to try and pick on him for being a mindless soldier, sometimes even fighting them. You're in his corner, willing to have his back, and that means a lot considering he's very paranoid.

Knowing that you want to protect him makes him want to melt.

[halfxspider]

"Can you be normal?... for once?"

[dxrknessembr8ced]

【Ｌｅｉ　－　Ｌｅｉ】

❏: Hsien-Ko

❏: Ex - Dark Hunter

❏: Afflicted To T-Virus

❏: Slightly Multi-Muse

❏: Resident Evil AU

❏: Roleplay | Story | Ask blog

❏: All Credit goes to Artists

{ 🖤 + Reblog? }

{ DISCLAIMER: All Art be used will mainly be used from AuraNova26 and all credit goes to them and a very lovely thank you for permission be granted by them! Thank you! }

[deadunderorbit]

Roar - Christmas Kids

[neoarchipelago]

I just read all of of Ghost's comics. All the backstory. And this man... Needs more than a hug. He doesn't exist here but somewhere in the multiverse, I'm cuddling this man and telling him he did so good, and I'm proud of him. That he's a good man and he didn't deserve any of it.

Just so y'all know I'm falling deeper in my obsession with this character. So.. yep.

[widowswineapologist]

yeah cod zombies x reader is really fun until you have to become an amateur cryptologist and listen to hours of radios/audio reels from your cryptic ass boyfriend talking about some shit you don't understand and you can't just go and ask him about it because he has no clue what you're talking about either

[shotmrmiller]

Multiverse part 3

You sat in a small room on a padded chair, with equipment set up around your arm, chest, and fingertips. A polygraph test. That's what you were being forced to take. And to your chagrin, Ghost is in the room with you and Captain Price.

"Try to relax, yeah?" Price commented. He must've noticed your restless leg.

"I'll do that, shall I? I've done nothing wrong, other than exist and I'm being interrogated. Because that's what this is— an interrogation." You finally turn your attention from Ghost to look at Price, who's sitting at the desk by your side. "Tell me, Captain. Did you get this same treatment when you came back after spending all that time locked up in the gulag?"

His dark eyebrows furrow in confusion. A sigh escapes your bitten lips. That's only in your...world, for lack of a better term. Dimension? Universe?

"I haven't been to the gulag here." Yeah, obviously.

With an impatient wave of the hand that doesn't have cables strapped to it, you mutter, "Let's get on with this circus act, then. Ask your questions."

Ghost steps forward, his arms unfolding as if he's about to speak to you, but Price swiftly intervenes, halting him with a raised hand.

"Alright then. Baseline questions first. Name." Ghost gives away nothing when you say your last name is Riley.

It goes like this for a few, then he switches to the control questions, until finally moving on to the relevant ones.

"How did you get here?" I don't know.

"Do you know why you're here?" No.

He pulls up a photograph. "Recognize him?" Captain MacTavish.

Another photo. "Him?" I don't know.

"What do you mean by that?" If that's Roach, I've never seen his face unmasked.

"You're sure you don't know him?" Unless that man's name is Gary Sanderson, no. I do not know him.

Price acknowledges your response with a nod, then shifts his gaze towards Ghost, whose head slightly tilts forward. Returning his attention to you, he retrieves a final photograph. "What about him?"

As you look at the picture, your eyes begin to well with tears, lip trembling violently. A new fracture reverberated through your tender heart, intensifying the ache in your chest. Yes.

"Who is he?" Price softly asks.

"That's my Simon," your voice broke on the last syllable. It was hard to not use a possessive adjective when the face of your husband was in that picture.

Blinking the tears away, you clear your throat. "Anything else, Captain?"

Price purses his lips under his hefty facial hair and responds, "Just a few more questions."

Once finished, you sat unabashedly staring at Ghost in the tiny room. "I wear Roach's tags alongside yours, in honor. He was with you until the very end, and for that, I couldn't be more grateful."

Ghost is completely silent, but you continue talking anyway. "I've been married to you since a bit after you came home on leave that one time. You know the one."

His eyes are emotionless, blank, as he stares at you. But you know him like the back of your hand. You've got his full attention.

"I accompanied you to your brother's wedding. He married a woman, Beth. She was good for him. They had a baby, your nephew, named Joseph. The love you had for him was one of a kind. I had told you later that evening that I dreamed of the day you'd look at our children like that."

With a shuddery breath, you tell him how none of those matters. Because your husband is dead, and you're stuck here. With his counterpart that hates you.

With a hushed click, the door closes shut behind him as he leaves, yet its resounding noise fills the compact room you're in.

You begin to fidget with the sizeable ring that hangs on a thin necklace beneath your shirt— the metal is warm under your touch as if it had never gone cold in the first place.

As if Simon had never taken it off his finger to go find Makarov.

ah theyre short but hurt. much pain.

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[shotmrmiller]

09 wife jealous of how obsessed Johnny is with his girl, takes it out on 22 Ghosts and he fucks the attitude out of herrrrr and throws in one I love you that holds her off for the next hundred years

o.

my.

god.

yesysyeesyeyseyes

ok ok. can this just be multiverse ch 4? im feeling inspired. ch4 everyone i like this.

You are so happy for your friend, truly. But goddamn, if it doesn't sting seeing Johnny just embrace her, accept her love for what it is when Simon has been fighting you tooth and nail over your feelings.

It comes to head when everyone's in the lounge and Johnny looks at his wife with so much adoration in his eyes, and he plants a kiss on the corner of his wife's mouth.

You're lurching out of your chair so fast it tips over behind you— almost jogging back to your shared quarters with Ghost.

A couple of minutes later, there's a knock on the door.

Damn. It must be Soap's wife.

You're opening the door with an apology already on your lips when you realize it is definitely not her.

"Why are you knocking?" you sneer. "It doesn't matter, what're you doing here?"

Simon just stares at you, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying something you might regret.

"Let me in, pet."

Oh, so he can speak in a neutral tone.

With an aggravated sigh, you step aside and turn around, giving him your back. You won't cry again. Or at least try your best to not cry again.

The door softly clicks shut and you begin to feel like he's just pushed you into a corner.

"Look at me," he mutters.

He's definitely cornered you.

You don't turn around as you answer him. "Why, Simon? So you can continue to look at me like I'm worth nothing? Like I'm—" Your words turn to ash on your tongue because Simon's suddenly standing behind you, encircling his arms around your waist.

That starts the waterworks.

You spin to face him, returning his embrace. "Why do you hate me? I didn't choose to be here. I've never wanted to be a burden to you." Simon tightens his hold on you, pressing his cheek on the top of your head.

"I've never hated you."

"Well, that's news to me, isn't it?" you shakily snarked. You couldn't help it; your heart had taken enough of a beating.

He tips your head up with his hand under your chin, and you take in a sharp breath. He took his mask off.

Simon's as handsome as you remember. His lips are a soft, rosy pink. The bisected left eyebrow, the silverly long, thin scar on his upper lip, the crooked nose, even the bloody stubble— all of it the same.

And his cheeks are flush, with life.

"I don't hate you, love. How could I when you're my wife?" he breathed.

His wife. He called you his wife. His wife.

Simon gently lowers his head, and you rise to your toes, and when your lips meet, there's a switch in you that's flipped. The kiss turns hungry almost instantly, and you're moaning embarrassingly into his mouth, but you don't care. You don't fucking care.

He tastes the same, he even sounds the same when you suck on his tongue lightly. He's gruffer here, but he's still yours. And now you're going to take what's yours.

You start to fumble at his clothes, because why won't they just come off fast enough? Simon chuckles into the kiss and with his help, you're both swiftly naked.

His body is radiating heat, scalding under your touch. When you wrap your hand around his heavy cock, the groan you swallow is so lewd that it has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

Breaking away, you roam your eyes over his bare body before pushing him back with a hand on his chest. He lays back on his mattress, and you waste no time in straddling his hips and lining him up with your slit.

Simon's hands up to grab your waist, and chokes out, "Wait, you don't need me to—" and he doesn't get to finish because you've got the tip of his head in you already.

"Another time, tomorrow, yesterday, whenever you want just not right now. I need to feel you inside of me." That's the only warning he gets before you slowly start to sink down onto him, slick cunt spreading open for him beautifully— moaning loudly when his head kisses the entrance of your womb.

Oh, you've missed this. Yeah, you've missed Simon too but this... he slots himself where only he could ever fit— like it was made for him. And you have no doubt in your mind that you were, in fact, made for him.

You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him, keeping it slow because you want to savor every second, memorize how he looks like in bliss. Your pace stays the same, a gentle up-down when you feel his grip tighten around your waist. Simon's biting his bottom lip, his molten eyes are locked onto where you take him in, and he's starting to tremble.

He's about to come.

You quickly rearrange yourself to be on your feet and start to fuck yourself onto his twitching cock. Now he's groaning loudly, sonorous noise from deep within his chest, and you angle your hips forward slightly— taking him even deeper.

Your body is slick with sweat, hair matted on your forehead from the exercise, and Simon starts to thrust himself up into you as you come down— now fucking you in turn.

His fingers are painfully digging into your soft flesh, when he looks up into your eyes, mumbling, "Kiss me, oh god, f-fuck, kiss me please."

How could you say no to that?

You rearrange your feet at his sides and lean down to slant your lips over his, but he gets impatient, pulling you down strongly— teeth clacking against his, but the slight pain is overridden when his thrusts start to turn choppy, brutal. It's so familiar that you pull away, your words spill from your lips unbidden.

"I love you."

He grunts as he comes inside of you, coating your slick walls with his essence, and you kiss him again, languidly this time.

Simon's head falls back onto his pillow, and he rubs your waist as he tries to catch his breath. You try to rest your head on his chest when he stops you with a hand to your sternum.

"You didn't finish," he asserts.

Of all the things... "No, Simon, I'm more than satisfied with..." you quietly moan when he begins to lower his hand until he's at your mons and uses his own cum to make the pad of his thumb slippery— rubbing tight, precise circles on your neglected clit.

He plays you like an instrument, and your walls are fluttering around his softening cock in minutes.

When your thighs begin to shake around him, he pulls you down with a hand to the back of your head and whispers against your lips what you've been waiting to hear all this time.

You climax to his words.

"I love you too."

--

Johnny gapes at Simon the next day, because his demeanor is vastly different to the usual surly.

"Ye slept with her, didn't ye?"

A tsk. "None of your business, Johnny."

"Ye did! About damn time, if ye ask me."

Simon doesn't rebuke that. You were another's' but now you're his. Only his.

And he's never letting you go.

[shotmrmiller]

I just know that Captain MacTavish's wife would be the one fighting Johnny off of her.

A tap to the nose like, 'bad dog'.

How excited would he be to see her, though? He'd be itching to get to know her, especially intimately.

She'd be very confused because, the same and yet not? Where's the sexy scar? I've got one on my chin, bonnie. What's this heavy accent? m'not sure I ken wha' yer talkin' about. You're my husband? Sure am, I'm John MacTavish. But you're much younger? Nothin' wrong with tha'.

She probably feels like a cougar.

Definitely lets him hold her when she breaks down because 22 Ghost called him Soap.

22 Ghost then brings out his 09 wife and asks if they know each other.

The way they immediately give each other an embrace, sniffling and speaking with warbly voices is his answer.

Johnny is puffing his chest out, preening, because now he's got a wife too. And then he looks at Kyle and Price with an arched thick brow, and gleaming blue eyes.

[shotmrmiller]

09 wife knowing ghost cares about her to some extent, but still can’t wrap her head around him saying I love you, has convinced herself it was all in the heat of the moment.

Start’s giving him some space because she remembers how her Simon got all distant and nervous after he said it to her the first time, he just needed to process it all and 22 he thinks he fucked up/laid it on too thick.

but if 09 and 22 are different in anyway it’s that 22 says something only when he’s 200% sure, and he’s gonna keep saying it after he figures out what’s wrong with his WIFE

You were almost a professional at disappearing, and he vaguely wondered if he taught you that.

But there is no escaping a ghost that haunts you.

He finally corners you and wastes no time in asking the hard question.

"Why are you avoidin' me?"

You didn't even believe your own excuse— stammering out broken words, making no eye contact, lip biting, fidgeting. His cynic old heart warms with the knowledge that you're terrible at lying. Living a life filled with falsehoods and deception is draining.

"Try again."

He pursed his lips to fight back an amused grin when you started to grumble about how he could always tell when you were lying, that maybe that's why he was in the 141.

"I just...there's an unspoken rule of anything said in the heat of the moment during sex is to not be taken seriously, y'know?"

Simon does in fact not know.

"No. I don't. I'm many things, but a liar is no' one of 'em." He moves in closer and gently tilts your head up to look at him. "Whether I have ya writhing with pleasure underneath me, or you've just woken up— face puffy with sleep— if I say something, I mean it."

You sputter at the unflattering picture he painted of you, but he silences you with a soft pinch to your cheek.

"Enough. The next time y'have somethin' on your mind, speak t'me abou' it the same way ya wouldn't stop babbling abou' your past marriage with me."

Simon pulls you in from your wrists to wrap his arms around you and rests his head on top of yours. "I love you," he professes.

Your voice is warbly when it reaches his ears. "Say it again."

He sighs. "I love you, wife."

this was so saccharine my teeth are gonna fucking fall off.

[shotmrmiller]

what if 09 ghost's wife appeared into 22 ghost's home, who's already married?

what then?

The moment you were handed his dog tags, you blinked, and you were here. In a cozy home, with evidence of children lying around, with a pot of simmering food on the stove. With skeleton gloves resting on the counter.

And then there's a woman letting out a blood-curdling scream.

And then there's Simon, your Simon, aiming a handgun straight to your forehead, muzzle harshly pressing into your skin.

"Who are you? How did you get inside?" he snarls. He's rabid, vein bulging from his forehead in fury.

The thunderous rhythm of your heart pounding in your ears drowns out his barrage of questions.

You don't flinch as he looks down to the tags in your hand, don't wince when he yanks them away from you.

When he reads the name, he'll demand to know where you got them, and you'll tell him that you're his wife. This is all that's left of him for you to keep.

Now you do flinch when he asserts, "I've already got a wife. Now get the fuck out."

He releases you and walks backward to where his wife is and tucks her under his arm, safe, protected.

Your breath rattles as it escapes your chapped lips, and with one quivering hand you ask him for your husband's dog tags back.

"Please," you whimper, "Let me have them and I'll go."

Simon doesn't move an inch, his gaze hard, staring at you like you're his enemy, but his sweet wife is the one who takes pity on you. She takes them and slowly extends her hand out, chain dangling from her fist.

"I'm sorry."

[shotmrmiller]

🍳 here, bless u the anon who talked abt glitch but what if simon09 shows up in simon22's dream and basically beat him senseless like "you have my wife. I can't be there for her anymore. All i ask is for *you* to treat her with respect that she deserves. Please." And simon22 woke up in a cold sweat like wtf was that weird dream

"She's the only one that stood by me when it all went to shit. When the only family I had was killed. She waited patiently for me to finish my business and come back to her.

And I did. Every time, I did. Until I didn't.

I had to witness her mourn and suffer over my death, only to appear here, next to you.

Her worst nightmare.

A man with my face, and none of my feelings.

Get. It. Together."

09 Ghost pulls out the .44 Magnum he was murdered with and shoots 22 Ghost in the same place he had been shot.

Jolting awake, he raises his hands to his chest, patting for a bullet wound. His forehead is damp with sweat, and his hands shake. A soft-spoken voice calls out to him from across the room, snapping him out of his disquietude.

"Si? Is it another nightmare? Come." She'll get up and get under the covers on his bed, throwing one leg over his, and sleepily mumbles, "Let's go back to sleep, hm? I'm here."

He can't help but ask, "And what're you gonna do about my nightmare?"

"I'll keep the dreams away."

You're out within seconds.

You reacted to him almost viscerally, and it made him question if you thought that he was your husband.

Simon lies his head back down, and the soft breathing by his ear, the gentle weight of your body on top of his lulls him back to sleep— no dreams this time, just a peaceful rest.

[shotmrmiller]

22 ghost seeing the sheet cloth ghost tattoo up close and personal for the first time >>

e

You rouse from your slumber when something continuously grazes your hip.

"G'mornin', Simon."

"Mornin." His voice is thick with sleep, and it sends a shiver up your spine.

His thumb is rubbing over one spot in particular, and then it clicks. "You like it?"

Simon kisses the tattoo of his namesake on your soft skin. "I do."

"Oh, you, well not you, were so upset when you saw it the first time."

A chuckle resonates in his chest. "Yes, because it's me, and I'm dangerous. I've made far too many enemies in my line of work—"

"And you'd never forgive yourself if I got taken hostage because of my relationship with you," you finish for him. "You said the same thing before too."

His breath fans over the exposed skin of your stomach, and then he kisses it again, only to follow it up with his tongue.

"Jes- Simon!"

He licks the ink again, then begins to trail his tongue down to your cunt.

Whatever you want to say melts from your mind, just like you begin to melt with his mouth.

Simon ate pussy for literal breakfast.