[shadowedghost]

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masterlist

requests open !!!!

call me whatever you like i couldn’t care less x

i write for ghost + all of 141 if requested

i do not write smut or anything generally nsfw

don’t be weird

also a fan of tlou + dbh but i’ll keep this blog mainly cod lol

[shadowedghost]

okay so barry sloane had an eyebrow piercing in the early 2000s… do we think canonically young captain price had one too 👀

[eobard-thawne]

GHOST BY JIANGBAOAOWU

[shadowedghost]

still thinking about how in the mw3 reboot, after soap is killed, if you don’t defuse the bomb ghost continues to just sit with soaps body until it blows.

he doesn’t even attempt to stop the bomb all he does is try to get soap up by patting him.

THIS IS SICK AND TWISTED.

[shadowedghost]

ghost's mask

ghost's mask was an object of much speculation. the team had often joked about its origins, creating dark tales about which terrorist the skull had belonged to, imagining ghost acquiring it in the most brutal of circumstances.

however, it was no more than a halloween decoration.

after finding the skull, he bought a handful. he spent hours meticulously crafting each one, perfecting the look of each piece of thick, hard plastic; he turned it into something far more menacing. he painted them various shades of bone and ivory, sanding the edges down to make them smooth. the final touch - painting the two crisp white lines down either side of the mask.

under a dim light he spent hours, painstakingly carving little holes around the edge of each mask. he was careful.. deliberate, making sure to drill slowly to avoid the plastic splitting down the middle. yet, every so often, it would crack and he would release a string of curses, realising he would have to hunt out another mask to replace the one that broke.

he searched for thick, leathered cord to stitch the thick skull securely to his balaclava. with careful judgement he made sure the mask's features aligned perfectly with his own. more than once misjudging the placement, threading it too high or too low.

threading the leather through the resistant holes was difficult. he tried to pull the cord taut, his fingers would slip and the large upholstery needle would slice into his hand leaving behind shallow cuts. swearing up a storm, he gave in, abandoning the idea of an abundance of perfectly spaced stitches. he created just enough for the mask to stay securely in place.

it amused him; the looks of horror patterned on the faces of the men he encountered. their attempts of making no eye contact, how their heart rate would increase as he looked in their direction. he made them anxious. the mask made them anxious.

sometimes it felt bitter. it reminded him of the panic he himself used to feel, as his brother would wear the very same mask. dangling over the frame of his bed, looming over simons fearful gaze.

but he wasn't scared anymore.

instead he missed it.

a/n: this felt fitting in honour of it being halloween today lol

[shadowedghost]

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

all sfw

- drabbles -

coloring ghosts tattoos

lingering stares

teenage ghost

ghosts mask

-

will add more works as i update !!

[shadowedghost]

i will NEVER shut up about his arms.

[rileyslibrary]

You burst into the office and slam the door behind you. Ghost jumps from his seat and looks up from the paperwork he’s been filling out. His eyes widen as you sprint towards him.

“What the f-”

“Just play along,” you interject, dragging a chair and plopping down. You grab two sheets of paper from the pile next to him and snatch the first pen within reach.

He keeps staring at you dumbfounded before managing to utter something.

“Can you at least-”

“Nope,” you cut him off while focusing on the papers and nibbling on the pen. “No, can’t do. You need to trust me on this one.”

“Define what ‘this one’ is.” He demands.

“Shhhh,” you hush him, waving your hand dismissively and glancing over your shoulder at the door. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s com-”

The door swings open, and footsteps approach. They settle beside you, and a hand slams on the desk. Ghost looks at the hand, then upward.

“Captain,” he says. “What brings you in-”

“For the love of everything you hold dear, Simon, you better not be involved in any of this,” Price warns. He slams his hand on the desk again and looks at you. “Why were you running away from me?” He asks.

You stare at him with furrowed eyebrows before removing the pen from your mouth.

“I wasn’t running away from you, sir,” you reply, pointing the pen at Ghost. “I was late for my meeting with the lieutenant.”

Price turns towards Ghost, seeking for an appropriate answer. The lieutenant sits up straight on his chair, clasps his hands together and motions with his head towards you.

“Very punctual, this one.” He says.

“Cut the crap, Simon,” Price orders and turns to you. “What were you doing inside Bravo Unit’s barracks last night?”

“Bravo Unit has barracks?” You ask Ghost. He shoots you a side-eye and raises one eyebrow.

“Stop playing dump and answer the question,” Price warns and points at Ghost. “And don’t look at him—he’s not covering for you this time.”

“How about you start from the beginning, boss,” Ghost interjects. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into Bravo Unit’s barracks last night and stole every inch of toilet paper they had,” Price says, looking at you, then turning to Ghost. “And not just toilet paper, mind you! Kitchen rolls and tissues are gone as well.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Ghost murmurs, shaking his head. “Such an inconvenience.”

“Inconvenience, Simon?” Price whispers, leaning on the desk. “The entirety of Bravo Unit had to wipe their ass with parchment paper this morning.”

Ghost brings his hand to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He lowers his head and takes deep, laboured breaths. Price is already fuming, so you decide to intervene.

“I was never inside Bravo Unit’s barracks, sir,” You state. “I just happened to walk through it once.”

“Oh, I see, I see—you walked through it once,” Price repeats, nodding. He removes something from his pocket and slams it on the desk.

“The instigator left this behind,” he states, looking back and forth between the two of you.

You and Ghost look at the garment on the desk—it’s a skull balaclava that once belonged to the lieutenant. He gave it to you last Winter since your ears and nose tend to get cold during patrol.

“Now,” Price states, “would you care to brief me on who this belongs to?”

“Hm,” you murmur, setting the pen and papers on the desk. You pick up the mask and start examining it. You look at Ghost, who stares at the mask with his eyeballs threatening to pop out of his face. He shoots you a deathly stare, and you redirect your attention to Price.

“That looks like it must be the lieutenant’s,” you reply, lifting the balaclava next to Ghost’s masked face. “With the skull and all—it’s a perfect match, actually.”

You both turn to Ghost, whose expression has transformed from utter disbelief to an inexplicable calmness.

“Indeed, that looks exactly like the one I lost,” Ghost confirms, taking the mask from you.

“Is it now?” Price asks in a high-pitched voice, tilting his head to the side. “Do me a favour and smell it for me, Riley.”

Ghost does exactly as he’s told. He brings the mask close to his nose, sniffs it, and nods. “Yup,” he confirms. “Smells exactly like me, too.”

Price sighs, takes a bottle from the pocket of his cargo pants and slams it on the desk. “So you want me to believe you use ‘Magnolia Blossom with Moroccan oil’ as a shampoo?” he asks.

“I’ve got dry hair.” Ghost shrugs.

“You should try coconut oil instead,” you suggest to Ghost, “it’s cheaper.”

Price kicks the chair next to you, and you both turn to look at him. He presses his lips together, and a red flush creeps on his neck, threatening to reach his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him.

“Why did you go through peoples’ stuff without their permission, sir?”

“Oh, I wasn’t going through anyone’s stuff,” Price explains. “You just were dumb enough to ditch the balaclava right behind the barracks. The detection dog picked up on the smell and led us to your stuff—it was a perfect match, just like you said.”

“You had sniffer dogs involved in this?” Ghost asks.

“I had to.” Price replies. “Pair the parchment paper with a day full of training, and Bravo Unit developed the worst rash they had since wearing diapers.”

A chuckle escapes Ghost, and he tries to silence it with his hand. He takes quick gasps of air, and you try to retain your laughter, too.

“Please tell me you’re not laughing!” Price shouts.

“No, boss,” Ghost says and wipes his tears, “It’s just so-”

“-sad,” you say and wipe your eyes as well. “It’s so sad.”

Price looks at you, then at the lieutenant. Now defeated, he sighs and throws his head back, shutting his eyes.

“I’m done with both of you.” He says, lifting his arms and dropping them to his sides. “I expect all toilet papers to be returned today. And as for you, you are responsible for cleaning Bravo’s toilets for the entire month.”

“For the whole month?!” You shout and wince at the idea.

“Be glad I didn’t make you wipe their asses as well.” He shouts as he walks to the door and slams it behind him.

Ghost recovers from the laugh and directs his attention to you. He tries to be serious but his teary eyes betray him.

“That was a hazardous operation you did back there,” he says.

“I didn’t do anything.” You reply, still vouching for your innocence. “But whoever did it taught Bravo Unit not to mess with our thermostats again.”

Ghost shakes his head. “I just happened to walk through the barracks once,” he says, repeating your earlier statement. “What were you thinking? Who walks through barracks?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, shrugging. “Ghosts would be my guess.”

[flosgaudium]

Ghost Sketch

Uni's been hell but I got procreate and decided to draw the man Muscle memory btw

[mellounir]

just needed to map out his scars for science reasons, I promise...

[khioneee]

simon is one of the girls (sort of)

boyfriend!simon was always invited to girls’ night—not out of obligation, but because everyone genuinely wanted him there. he fit into the group effortlessly, his quiet, protective presence becoming a staple at every gathering. whether it was lounging around in pajamas with face masks on or heading out for a wild night at the club, boyfriend!simon was part of the plan.

if it was girls’ night, boyfriend!simon was there. need someone to open a bottle of wine? he had it uncorked in seconds. carrying heavy bags for a night in? already done. if the group was heading to the club, simon was always the first to volunteer to drive everyone home safely at the end of the night.

boyfriend!simon never overstepped, but he wasn’t a silent bystander, either. when conversations got lively, he’d chime in with the perfect sarcastic remark or sly observation, earning a mix of giggles and mock glares. and when a topic turned to relationship drama, he always gave it to you and your friends straight.

“dump the bloke,” he’d say bluntly, not even looking up from his drink. “if i hear his name one more time, i’m blocking his number myself.”

your friends always groaned, but soon enough, they started messaging him directly for advice.

out on the town, boyfriend!simon was the designated protector. no one had to ask—he was always at the edge of the group, watching for anything suspicious. he made sure no one lingered too close, and if someone tried to chat up one of your friends unwantedly, simon’s presence alone was enough to send them packing. if they didn’t get the hint, simon would step forward, voice low and deadly calm: “you’ve got somewhere else to be, mate.” that always did the trick.

despite his intimidating size, boyfriend!simon never felt out of place during your quiet nights in. he sat comfortably among blankets and pillows, scrolling on his phone as face masks dried and reality tv droned in the background. your friends teased him mercilessly about it, but he didn’t mind.

“you’re basically one of us now, si,” one of them joked once.

he gave a small shrug, not looking up. “just don’t expect me to paint my bloody nails, yeah?”

with boyfriend!simon around, you and your friends could relax fully, knowing he’d take care of everything—from heavy bags to creeps at the bar. he wasn’t just there for you—he was there for everyone you cared about, making sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

one night, after everyone had left and it was just the two of you, you leaned into him, curious. “why are you so sweet to my friends?”

boyfriend!simon didn’t miss a beat, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he answered softly, “because they mean a lot to you—and you mean everything to me.”

an. i desperately need a man like him.

[shadowedghost]

imagine a teenage ghost who refuses to pay ANY attention in school.

he's almost always late every day, but never bothers to turn up to detention. he'll come to school in his blazer and tie (a ridiculously short one) and then when his maths teacher asks him where his stuff is,

he replies, "dunno. i think i lost my school bag"

you'll peer over at him throughout various points in the lesson, to see strange hyper-realistic characters scribbled all over his worksheet. he'll be twiddling his pen in his hands as he stares out the window at two year 7s having a water fight, before resting his head in his arms and ultimately falling asleep.

despite all this, he's still somehow in set 2.

[shadowedghost]

the silent stares from opposing corners of the room were deafening. the way he watched you sit, casting fleeting glances around the room at price and gaz. the way your left hand would absentmindedly pick at your right thumbnail.

you adjusted your position in your seat acutely aware of the weight of his lingering gaze on you. as your eyes wandered over to meet his, he quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on price’s presentation.

moments later, his sunken, pitiful eyes found yours again. as he blinked, his warm, brown irises briefly vanished into the abyss of smudged eyeblack he coated his face in.

you wondered what his face looked like without it. what emotions lay hidden underneath this façade.

despite your initial uncertainty, his presence had become a sense of comfort - a quiet reassurance he was always there. knowing he was always watching you, analysing you, protecting you.

you felt a strange thrill knowing each stolen glance between you held a deeper connection that neither of you could quite articulate.

[shadowedghost]

coloring his tattoos

an unfamiliar sensation laced his forearm - almost like a cold, sharp needle piercing through his skin.

he jolted backwards, his gaze snapping to the figure perched beside him.

"wha-" he instinctively drew his arm back, blinking rapidly before staring at you.

"oi hold still." you grasped at his retreating arm, your fingers wrapped around his wrist. the bright pink marker cap rested between your teeth, muffling your desperate pleas for him to remain stationary. the marker itself was balanced between your middle finger and thumb.

he froze, captivated by the look of intense concentration etched across your face, your tongue peeked out ever so slightly, brows furrowed as you carefully traced each line and curve on his skin.

"what are you doing?" he asked flatly.

your movement haltered before gazing up at him.

"making these look cooler..." before resuming your careful shading of the various army paraphernalia marked into his skin.

he surveyed the vibrant array of markers scattered around the both of you before returning back to his previous slump in the chair. with a stifled chuckle, he smiled at the critical level of concentration you put into filling every peach coloured spot on his arm with a vibrant shade of pink.

yet, amidst the tranquillity, a small panic gripped him. the thought of you feeling so calm and trusting in him - enough to decorate his skin - was an foreign sensation. however being overtaken with a fierce instinct to protect and defend, igniting a warmth he never expected to feel.

[shadowedghost]

his arms. his tattoos. i’m foaming at the mouth.

[shadowedghost]

his. eyes. bro.

[shadowedghost]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley - Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II