di-abolical

Latest Posts by di-abolical

fuck it, arcane edit to hadestown (don’t judge too hard, I edit on my phone)

when logan and wade fall (from heaven to save us) onto the kia, he knows it's a kia

how many cars has he fucked in that he knows what that feels like?

is that why he's a....used car....salesman?

after all, if you only take it for a test drive, you don't take it home

he's the worst salesman

....

"the problem might be that you're reaching a little too high. aim for the middle and you'll never miss"

he went for the WORST logan

the very worst used car. the honda odyssey of logans.

he broke that car in, so he took it home.

....

if logan is the odyssey, the kia where we discussed 2.5 kids and a picket fence is social expectations, Disney's expectations for a love story and family movie. aka compulsive heterosexuality

the kia is no longer viable

some poolverine fics i've enjoyed recently <3 please make sure to read the tags!

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier

Blood, Dirt, Love (Stop) by por_queeee

electrochemistry by Edgebug

Newton's Third Law by capitalismwasamistake

Body Count by cyclogenesis (addictedkitten)

hold me like a grudge by NotesAppWitch [series]

do you have any poolverine fanfic rec's?!'

I do indeed!

Every Single Other Universe

only fools rush in (can't help falling)

where soul meets body

tell your baby that i'm your baby

go tell your girlfriend (that i'm your boyfriend)

the bucket list

Save Me

Oh God, i think im fallin'

electrochemistry

Poolverine and Prejudice

You gave us kid Joseph with his uncle Simon. Your fic was adorable <3

Sketches for a fic I wrote. Domestic SoapGhost and Uncle Ghost with Joseph. 👀

okay lets be honest for a second.

if sarah had survived, would she and ellie be friends like joel said?

imo, yes. sarah and ellie were a lot alike style wise. look at sarahs room, compared to ellies room. theyd be such good friends.

thank you naughty dog for killing her off :(

(tbh she wouldnt have suvived long. she seems like the type of person who mentally wouldnt handle the outbreak)

Awwww. You made Ahsoka so adorable <3

They're so sibling coded, Rex is definitely that one mom friend to have snacks on him

There is something more tragic. Promising yourself you can stay up until 1 AM reading fanfics only for Ao3 to be down.

There is literally nothing more tragic than promising yourself that you’ll go to bed only to stay up until 1 in the morning on Ao3.

Go check out my fic btw

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cordilla_Ann/works

Secret option is I started crying when I saw the gays and never truly stopped.

He catches him on instinct too. Like, he just reaches out like it’s second nature.

I love how Ambrosius catches Ballister in this scene!!

Crying rn. I need this to be better. It has to be better

John “thinks he’s unlovable and people merely tolerate him” Soap Mactavish; is unconvinced when Gaz tells him that he is Ghost’s favorite on their team. Vehemently denies it. He’d love for it to be true, but knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Gotta love that sweet, sweet low self-esteem that makes that sweet angst

___

A Bit Too Much

Angst below the cut

___

Growing up Soap was described as “a bit too much”. By his parents, siblings, the kids at school— He just accepted that’s what he was. “A bit too much”. As he grew, he tried different things to deal with this. Not engaging with people was his first approach. Then when people started saying “too quiet” he changed things up.

“A bit too much”, “Too quiet”, “Tries too hard”, “Thinks he’s too good for us”, “Bipolar freak”—

So he gave up. He put up a front full of confidence. This became the persona everyone knew. This was Soap, that’s how he was. Brave, facing the world with a grin and a smug comment. But even though Soap lived the persona so long, he was constantly reminded that, well, he was too much. Too friendly, too arrogant. He talked back, stuck his neck out. And when he got those looks from everyone… Well, it took everything he had to not let his mask crack.

When he joined 141 and met Ghost, he smiled and continued the act. The confidence, the know-it-all attitude. That glare from Ghost almost made him break. But he kept going. He proved himself to be a valuable member of 141. He earned his mark. When Ghost started to tone down the aggression, Soap simply told himself the man was trying to be nice considering they were going to be working together for the unforeseeable future. He had to be nice so they could work together smoothly.

The jokes were odd but considering how dark some were Soap took them as Ghost trying to remind him of Ghost’s reputation. Then the shoulder pats after a job well done— Those were always done in front of others. Ghost couldn’t show people his distaste for Soap.

One evening they were on a mission in a temperate forest. It’s been quite a bit since then so Soap couldn’t really remember why they were there. But they had to camp out there overnight. A fire burning between them, laying on their backs, looking through the trees staring at the stars. The others were passed out, and it was between either Soap or Ghost to keep watch.

“Get some rest, sergeant.”

“Me? You tell me that with those bags under your eyes?”

The chuckle that came from Ghost wasn’t like the dry, forced laughter that he had heard before. It was warm, genuine. Soap couldn’t remember the last time he heard someone laugh like that in response to something he said/done.

He’s tired, probably thinks a knock knock joke would be hilarious.

Soap insisted he would take watch and Ghost looked at him with unreadable eyes before agreeing. Probably didn’t want to bother arguing with him considering how stubborn and insufferable Soap could be. Soap knows how he is, he remembers his mother telling him that several times before he finally joined the military.

Since then, Soap would think about how Ghost looked that night. Though he was in gear, same skull mask and balaclava, faded black grease around the eyes. He looked so- so—

Soap had a bad habit of becoming obsessive when he finds a person that he likes. Someone who he genuinely loves to be around. Past girlfriends and boyfriends and friends in general called him “clingy” and some said he would stalk them. He never tried to make them uncomfortable, but when he finds that person who brightened his day just by him seeing them… He tried to be around them as much as possible. But he would be constantly reminded of how weirded out people were by that.

But Ghost didn’t give him the same signs that he was crossing the line like those in the past. Wasn’t told to back away, stop talking for moment, just leave him alone for fuck’s sake. Soap tried to give Ghost his space, watched what he said, and leave him alone as often as possible. He wasn’t sure why this man was so patient with him. His own parents never gave him this kind of tolerance. Soap wondered if Ghost, despite his reputation, was a lot nicer then what people made him out to be.

So after deeming that Ghost was too nice to tell him to fuck off, Soap decided to avoid him. The first couple of days, if Soap saw Ghost in the hall or in the room he entered, he had to remind himself to leave him alone. The man needed a break. After a week and a half he got used to the lack of companionship (though he knows Ghost was loving the change). After three weeks Soap found company elsewhere.

He would pick random recruits to annoy for a day then leave them alone. Sometimes he annoyed Price because the captain had some actually funny facial expressions and if Soap said something off putting, Price would let him know without any words. But he tried to leave Price alone as much as possible. He didn’t want to wear him out like he did Ghost.

So Gaz became his next target. After the first day of inserting himself into Gaz’s dad-to-day, he would talk about whatever with him. He could say things to Gaz that he couldn’t with recruits or with Price (his judging facial expressions were amusing but did have a impact after a bit). Gaz would engage back, which was a nice change to the hesitant replies from the recruits or the short replies from Price (who was usually working on something when Soap “graced” him with his presence).

He found Gaz in Price’s office filing things away for the man while he was away. He decided to join him, pulling a chair from the corner of the room and sitting next to Gaz. After a minute they started talking about random things. Then Gaz asked him a question.

“Soap, I have to know… did you and Ghost get into a fight or something?”

Soap was doodling on his arm with a marker when Gaz asked this. He looked up with a confused expression, “No?”

“Really? Everyone thought something happened between you two since you’re not hanging out anymore.”

“I left before something did happen,” Soap replied as he returned to doodling.

It was Gaz’s turn to be confused, “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Garrick. Man was bound to snap givin’ how much I bothered him!”

“Didn’t really look like you were bothering him. He’s been upset since you started avoiding him.”

Soap stops again, the felt tip of the marker presses into his skin. He’s been doing such a good job of avoiding Ghost and giving him his space that he hadn’t noticed how the man reacted to all of this.

“Upset? Sure it’s not been relief?”

He forced a laugh at the end of that statement but Gaz wasn’t laughing back.

“Soap, man is one wrong tone away from ripping someone’s head off. That’s why everyone thinks you two got into a fight. But you just left without any reason?”

Soap stares at Gaz, “What?”

“Soap… He’s been pissed at the world since his best friend just abandoned him!”

Best friend?

Those words shook Soap to his core. All his previous “best friends” were some poor sods who were a bit too friendly with him and Soap latched onto them, mistaking their tolerance for acceptance. He would notice after being dropped by someone he saw as his best friend that people would refer to them as his victim, not his friend. He never heard anyone referred to as his friend in general, let alone best friend.

“I’m-I’m not- He’s not my best friend. He could barely tolerate me…”

Gaz chose then to laugh, “You’re pulling my leg!”

When Gaz finally stopped laughing and noticed the incredibly confused look on Soap’s face. His smile drops and a grim look takes over.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Soap shakes his head wordlessly.

“Seriously? You’re like his favorite person out of everyone anywhere. He likes you over Laswell!”

“No he doesn’t-“

“Man, yes he does! Where have you been where you think that you’re not Ghost’s favorite person?”

Soap stands abruptly, “Stop fucking with me, Gaz!”

Gaz flinches, “Soap-“

“Where have I been? Where have you been?! There is no way Ghost likes me- I’m just an annoying fly in his ear.”

Soap was nicknamed “Fly” as a kid by his dad, said he was as annoying and hard to get rid of as the actual insect. When he left for the military and eventually earned the callsign “Soap”, he never thought he would feel relief to be called a cleaning product before.

Soap storms off, leaving Gaz staring at him with concern written across his face. He all but ran out of the base, not caring how many people he almost ran into on his way out. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain or that he didn’t have a jacket on him, just a long sleeved shirt and some joggers on. He absentmindedly pushed his sleeve down on the arm he was doodling on as he walked. It was cold like hell froze over, which would have had to happen for Gaz, anyone, to think that Ghost liked him.

He came to a sewer pipe that they practiced crawling through with gear on to prepare for the field. But for now it was a place to hide. Soap crawled inside, finding it much roomier without twenty/thirty pounds of gear on. He curls up in a fetal position, every bit of his childhood, every moment that led up to him becoming who he was. To the mask that he wore every day. It all flooded over him.

His sisters complaining when he tried to play with them. His mother swatting him when he forgot to stop talking. His father forgetting to pick him up after school. His classmates talking about him behind his back. One of his teachers muttering “Something’s not right with him” as he walked away from her desk. His first boyfriend telling him that he was too clingy and that it was creeping him out. His first “best friend” telling him he was too weird and talked too much.

Once the dam broke he couldn’t stop the tears.

Out of all the cruel things that happened to him throughout the years, this was the cruelest of them all. That brief moment where he actually believed that Ghost liked him. That his laughs were genuine when Soap told a joke. That he actually paid attention when he told a story. That when Soap was excited about something he actually stopped to listen. But none of that was real.

Because Soap was a bit too much for anyone to handle.

Angst angst angst (GhostSoap)

The touchdown back onto base after the death of Hassan was a breath of absolute fresh air to Soap’s aching chest. He was in pain, but was insanely happy that he’d survived the shit show that was the task to detonate that missile, fight armoured guards with nothing but glass and a box cutter, and directing Ghost to kill Hassan while Soap hung off a damn skyscraper. He was alive. And he was happy about it.

If he weren’t concussed from a hit in the head, hurt from a fall from elevators, being shot, being beaten and jumping through windows, he’d be practically bouncing off the plane. Instead, he followed Price out of the plane and took as deep a breath he could before the stabbing pain returned to his ribs. He would need to go to the infirmary, but eh, that could wait. What he really wanted was to talk to Ghost. He wanted to perhaps plan a time for them to chat after he was out of the infirmary.

He turned to Ghost with a big smile on his face, looking up to the blank eyes that were looking off into the distance.

“Hey Ghost~! Wasn’t that great?? We all did so well!”

Ghost didn’t respond. He looked down at Soap, who would’ve been a miserable sight. Cut, bruised, a gash on his forehead with blood down his face and neck that had dried, shot, burnt. Beaten in general. Foolishly, he kept talking.

“I can’t believe we succeeded on such an impossible mission, it sure is exhilarating!”

“The only reason you’re alive is because of me.”

“… What?”

“You heard me.” Ghost started advancing on Soap, who backed off, sensing anger. Every step that Soap took back, the taller man stepped forward.

“Your stupidness meant that you got shot, and you had to traverse a city alone to get to me. Why did that take you a fucking hour, Soap?? I was there within fifteen minutes! You nearly died!”

Soap shrunk in his skin. “Woah woah- where is this coming from…?”

Ghost paid no attention. “You seem to think you’re a human fucking pin cushion! You’ve been shot how many times in the past 48 hours?? Graves, Hassan, Shadows?? And all through that you don’t shut up! You’re only quiet when I want you to talk to me!”

“I followed yer orders…”

“I had to save your life twice!”

“… ‘m sorry… I thought we were friends… what about all the joking-“

“I work alone, Johnny. That way I don’t have to save people and I don’t have to be saved.”

The last sentence was spoken with such a blank tone that it almost scared Soap more than the shouting. Everyone was looking at them. Everyone was looking at Soap. Recruits too, hearing that he had to be saved multiple times, that he’d been hurt so many times over. He looked down, furrowing his eyebrows in an effort not to cry. His chest was tight, and all the pain he’d felt before was tripled. He always struggled with the feeling that he didn’t belong, but he thought Ghost actually liked him as a person. Now, he was ashamed, embarrassed, and burdened by a freight train’s weight worth of impostor syndrome.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shook it off and barged past Price; the owner of said hand. On his way to the infirmary, probably in Ghost’s field of vision but he hoped not, he began sobbing. His hands, bloodstained and cut, soaked up the tears and smeared oil and blood and grease all over his face. He was pathetic. He didn’t belong. He was stupid to think he made a friend, especially in someone who wore a fucking skull on his face.

(There will be more parts)

okay look hear me out. i watched frozen last night. soapghost frozen au

Why can’t he have one of each??!??

For research purposes…

I’m thinking about SoapGhost and them having a subconscious system to help soothe eachother after Las Almas & Chicago. Imagine, they’re on a mission, all is quiet, and everyone’s trying to sleep. Then, “Ghost?” - “Soap”.

Gaz has never had to ‘room’ with the two before this mission and he’s fairly sure he and Ghost are the only ones awake. Suddenly, Soap, from the dead of sleep, calls for Ghost -starting to squirm. Ghost see’s this and just lets out a quiet “Johnny”. Soap, immediately, quiets down and stills.

Another mission, the inverse happens but Ghost is a lot more violent in his squirming and Soap is also asleep. Gaz witnesses as Ghost calls out, concern in his voice, for -“Johnny?” Gaz prepares himself to wake up Soap because everyone knows not to wake up Ghost, unless you’re Soap, but is stopped by Soap, once again from the dead of sleep, calling back to Ghost. Once again, Ghost quietens down and stills.

This continues to happen, every mission, every night. Gaz realises why the two are always paired together, why they’re so close. It’s because the only time they sleep through the whole night without panicking, is when they’re together, touching. A physical reminder that the other is safe.

— Okay so I’m having thoughts™️ about these two and I wanted to know if you had any thoughts about any other potential ways they might act? (This is an outline, kinda, for something I might write)

OH........ OH I LOVE THAT.......... 🥺🥺🥺I LOVE THEM.....

I loved this fic the second I read it! Can’t wait to read the last chapter.

Idiot's Guide to Dating by Simon Riley

this is part five! read on ao3, or read on tumblr - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4. no archive warnings apply! this is pure, unadulterated fluff :]

A groan escaped Ghost as his alarm went off. He rolled onto his side, clumsy fingers reaching out until they brushed against the clock and turned it off. He’d not quite been brave enough to leave his room, yesterday, though it was late enough that he could pretend he was resting.

That was a lie.

His sleep had been quite disturbed, in fact, restless, consistently drifting into panicked thoughts about Johnny, and how the hell you were supposed to confess to somebody that you loved them.

Of course, he told himself, that the other must know, right? What else would his words from yesterday mean?

‘Like’ could mean platonic, though. Soap could think that this was just a friendly thing... Ghost wasn’t a very friendly guy. He could have just assumed-

Another groan escaped him, and he buried his head into his pillow. Fuck Soap. How dare he make the Ghost fluster like this? Simon had killed plenty of people, and he had seen a great many things, but here he was, panicking over his crush like a child. It was an entirely foreign feeling to him, and he couldn’t figure it out.

Deciding to no longer dwell on these thoughts, he pushed himself up and got changed. He’d go on a run, and that would clear his mind, and all would be fine.

It was easy to fall into a routine, and it soothed his fraying nerves. His brain could switch off for a moment, as he worked just on instinct. Getting dressed, then brushing his teeth, washing his face, putting his mask on, putting his shoes on, leaving the base – the list continued. It was all usual, to him, and it helped things get easier.

Another thing he was entirely grateful for was the fact that the run went easy. It wasn’t an overly cold morning, though it wasn’t too warm, and it wasn’t too muddy – everything was perfect. That made his skin crawl. It was... too nice. Given his plans to officially romance Soap, it felt wrong. Ghost couldn’t be lured into a false sense of security.

Okay, he had to admit, it sounded odd to find things being too nice wrong, but he could admit that he was a paranoid bastard, sometimes.

Once the run was over, he returned to his room to change clothes and freshen up, not wanting that sticky, post-run feeling to stick with him throughout the day. It was routine – fuck, he liked routine.

With that done, donning a hoodie, jeans, and, of course, his mask, he made his way to the kitchen in order to grab some breakfast. The first disruption in his plan was here, though that was mostly because he hadn’t really considered the rest of the day. Johnny was there, fussing with the microwave as Gaz and Price sat by and watched, offering the occasional tip, but not helping him.

That microwave had never been the same after Soap arrived on base. He was pretty certain it was now a short horror story Price told the rookies. He couldn’t blame him.

Apparently, his footsteps weren’t as quiet as they usually were, as, when he stepped in, Price glanced over his shoulder and offered a hum, “Morning, Simon,”

“Lt!” Before Ghost even got the opportunity to respond to their Captain, the Sergeant was turning around excitedly to face him. There was a grin on his lips that had his heart fluttering, and he hated it because it was so silly and childish, but... honestly, at the same time, he really liked the feeling.

In the back of his mind, he quietly blamed Soap for making him feel like that. It was unfair, honestly.

“Johnny-” Ghost began, not quite certain what he was going to say, but he was cut off before he could figure that out, regardless.

“Me and the Sergeant have... some paperwork to do, regarding our last mission,” Price spoke up, suddenly, giving Gaz a look.

“We do?”

Price nudged Gaz’s shoulder, and understanding dawned across his features.

“Oh! Yeah, we do. See you guys later,” Gaz flashed a grin at them, pushing himself to a stand and following Price out. When the duo walked past Ghost, their Captain nudged his side, and Ghost watched them leave, bewildered.

“Meddlin’ bastards,” Grumbled Soap, which only added to Ghost’s bewilderment, truly. He turned to look at the Scot, whose grin turned a little sheepish, turning back to the microwave to try and figure it out. “Eh... Good morning, Lt?”

“Decent,” Ghost responded, finding himself still feeling a little... outcast, in this situation. There was nobody else in the room, and nobody would be interrupting them, it seemed, so this was the best opportunity he had, to confess to him, but he still found himself lost.

Despite his list, he was fucking floundering, and he scoffed at himself. He was Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, god dammit, he physically dragged himself out of his grave, and here he was, flustering himself at the thought of asking Johnny out.

He just... had to do it. He could do it.

Ghost stepped closer, rounding the counter near him, and just as he went to speak, he registered something that threw him off-kilter, all over again.

“Are you... heating up pizza for breakfast?”

“Oh- uh... aye, ran out of cereal, and I’ve never really... cooked anything for breakfast, so...”

Ghost slow-blinked at him because this wasn’t the first time his Sergeant had thrown him off-guard like this, but it was definitely towards the top of the list.

“Sit down,”

“Uh- Why, Lt?”

“Sit down,”

“Copy that, sir,” Johnny grinned at him. It should be an infuriating expression. It, in fact, made his stomach erupt in butterflies again. Ugh.

Ghost shuffled to grab what he needed; two eggs, a bowl, a pan, a whisk, and some bread. Once done, he began cracking the eggs, so he could stir them.

Recognition crossed Soap’s features, and a shocked little gasp escaped him. “Are you... making me breakfast?”

“You’re not eating pizza this early,”

“Aww, Simon...” Johnny cooed, and yet again, it should piss him off, but it didn’t, in fact, it made his cheeks flush under the mask, and he let out a huff.

“Shut it, Sergeant,” Being told to shut up by Ghost should have him complying, if for nothing else, then out of a healthy respect for remaining alive. Soap’s actual response was a laugh, which was perhaps more of a cackle than anything else.

He hated how nice that laugh was.

As Ghost worked, the other did lapse into silence for a few minutes, which surprised him. A quiet Johnny was one he was not used to – even in the ride to Alejandro’s safehouse, after the shitshow that was Graves’ betrayal, the man managed to talk the whole way there. Incessantly.

The memory made him smile.

Ugh.

“Y’know, I could get used to this,” Johnny spoke up, suddenly.

“What?”

“I mean... this. You cooking for me. Looking all domestic in your hoodie and shit,” he laughed.

“Domestic?”

“Yeah... I mean... You look casual. Apart from the mask, but I’m coming around to it. Still makes you look strange, but... I’m coming around to it,”

“You like it?”

“I... guess I do, yeah,”

“You like me?” His words echoed the ones from yesterday, from their mission.

“I... do?”

Ghost turned around, pleased to notice that there was a light flush coating the Sergeant’s cheeks, accompanied by a distinctly confused expression. It was nice to be the one causing that expression, for once. He walked up to the counter, leaving it as a barrier between them, and leaned against it, his elbows used to prop it. He leaned into Johnny’s space, watching as the other man swallowed thickly, wide-eyed but smiling nonetheless, which reassured him that he was reading into this right.

“I like you too,”

“You... do?”

He was so proud of himself to have such a talkative man so tongue-tied. A smile quirked his lips and, judging by the fact that Soap’s eyes flitted down, that was clear, even with the mask on. Good.

“I do. Been gone on you for a while, Johnny. Didn’t know if I should tell you, but...”

“You’re not... takin’ the piss, aye?”

An amused chuckle escaped Ghost, pretty certain his newfound confidence only came from that thrilled glint in Johnny’s eye, “No, I’m not ‘takin’ the piss’,”

“C’mere,” Soap stood up, gesturing to his side. Feeling rather like he couldn’t deny him right now, Ghost obliged, rounding the counter and standing in front of him.

Carefully, almost like one would to a feral animal, Johnny reached his hands up, taking Ghost’s face in his hands. “Can I... kiss you?” His voice was so soft, so tender, in a way he was so unused to from the other, he was helpless to simply nod his agreement.

Rather than lift the mask, which he’d expected the other to do, he instead pushed onto his tiptoes and kissed him through the mask. It was nothing more than a peck, hesitant and careful, but the other relaxed when Ghost didn’t pull away.

The fact that Soap saw the mask as simply another facet of Ghost was... so sweet, honestly. It was such a kind gesture, but he didn’t need that, now. No, he needed to know what Johnny’s lips felt like against his, not through the mask.

His head tilted back out of his grip for just a moment as he reached up and lifted his mask up, noting how Johnny’s pupils blew wider as he did. This time, Ghost was the one to lean down, pressing his lips against his. Everything sort of melded into place, at that moment. His hands wrapped around Soap, finding his waist, gently squeezing at the firm skin he found there, and – well, shit, everything was perfect.

As much as he would like to say that he spent the next few minutes kissing Soap as he pleased, it instead was interrupted by the smell of burning.

The eggs.

A frustrated groan escaped him, suddenly parting from Soap only to round the counter once more and switch the stove off. There was probably no saving them – maybe breakfast would have to be fucking leftover pizza.

He turned around once more, watching as Johnny laughed at him, and only found it within him to roll his eyes, teasingly. He had a nice laugh, the asshole.

“Ah... Maybe I’m not the only one who shouldn’t be trusted to cook, eh, Simon?”

“You’re a distraction,” Simon accused, fondly, the smile clear in his words.

“A pretty handsome distraction,” he waggled his eyebrows in a way that should have been stupid looking, but he truly found it charming. Definitely an asshole, how dare he be so endearing?

“Watch yourself, Johnny,”

“Don’t think I need to, Simon, not when you’ve been watching me?”

“Like a hawk. Don’t you have work to do?” Really, Simon just... needed a few minutes to process everything that just happened.

Maybe he needed to scream into his pillow just a little. Things never went to plan, he needed to celebrate, you know?

“Got some training today. I’m... free this evening, though,” once more, the man segued from teasing to tentative and tender in moments. It was so fucking sweet.

“Meet me by my room, at 5 pm,”

“You gonna take me out?” The words were teasing. Ghost needed to rectify that.

“I am.”

“Oh... Aye- Uh.. Right! Okay. I’ll see you then, Simon,”

“See you then, Johnny,”

The shorter man scarpered around the counter once more, pressing one final kiss to his lips for good measure, before backing off. Before he left, he grabbed the cold pizza from the microwave, and brought it with him, to wherever he was going.

Cold pizza for breakfast... Jesus, Simon certainly knew how to pick them. As he turned around and began to clear up the mess he’d accidentally made, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad about that, though. Nah, he was pretty certain he couldn’t have fallen for the average person, so he’d just have to deal with those quirks. Well – maybe he’d just try to quell them. How a man could live off of cold pizza in his late twenties was... insanity, really.

Once the kitchen was cleared, Ghost pulled his mask down, and began to settle into his daily routine for work. A smug, prideful feeling stuck with him the whole time, making him want to preen, stick his chest out and fucking boast to anybody that came near him – he fucking wooed John MacTavish, and he did it well, dammit. Maybe he was better at romancing people than he’d thought, hey?

Now to plan their date. On short notice. What... sort of date would Johnny enjoy?

Maybe the plan had been a little short-sighted. That was fine. It worked out perfectly anyway.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

New part!!!!

Soap!Ghost MINI SERIES Pact Maker Pt.2

NSFW. Swearing. Anxiety. Self loathing. Self Neglect. Gun Fight. Ghost being, well Ghost. Emotional Support. Angst. Word Count; 4525

Soap in inconsolable for days. He barely ate let alone slept, and no one dared mentioning work or training to him. He was in Ghost’s room again, laid on his bed, reading one of Ghost’s favourite novels; a pile of gross, snot soaked tissues on one side of him, the box whence they came and bottle of water on the other.

“… Soap?”. He looked up at the soft knock tiredly, Konig in the doorway, his head tilted with the same kindness from the night Ghost left in his eyes, “… I know it might seem silly to ask, given I see you might almost be out of tissues again, but.. Are you alright?”. Soap looked at the mountain of tissues beside his hip and chuffed, cuffing his cheek again quickly as he closed the book carefully, then gathered the mess to be dealt with. Konig helped, bringing him Ghost’s waste bin from the bathroom for Soap to dump the tissues, kneeling beside the bed as Soap then simply sat there, fidgeting with his watch.

“… I feel so empty inside, Konig. Like my whole heart is just, gone. I don’t feel anything except pain, and loneliness.”.

“… I’m sorry, Soap… As much as I like to tease your Ghost, this-… Scenario. It is wrong… “ Konig sighed, tilting his head as he looked up at Soap on the bed, “It has already been almost a week, Kleiner Habicht… I know your soul aches, Soap, but he will be home to you soon.”

“… It does ache, Konig. Worse than being shot or cut up ever has… I’d suffer endlessly life times over rather than be without Simon like this ever again” Soap mumbled quietly, bringing his knees to his chest and hugged them weakly.

“The couriers are meant to come soon… I wished to know if you would come with me, see if anything will arrive for you”

“It hasn’t been a week- Nothing will be turn up yet, Konig… I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do…”

“He asked I protect you, you heard him yourself, no?”

“He meant on drops, Kon. Not from paper cuts and desk corners-“

“He also meant from yourself” Konig interrupted and Soap looked at him, the German’s eyes squinted softly behind his mask, evidence of a loving smile, “Would you think your love will enjoy to hear you have been neglecting your health since his departure?”

“… No.”

“You think he would approve of such behaviour?”

“… No.”

“You think he would let it continue?”

“… No.”

“Then come with me, Kleiner Habicht… Come see if there is gifts for you, if not? Then next week, or the week after. We will check every time- every day, even when they come. And we will start to eat together, yes?”

“I can eat fine on my own, Konig”

“You can, but you haven’t” He replied softly, tilting his head the other way, and his eyes lidded sadly on Soap’s profile, “… We can cook something together, ja? Ghost has confided in me how much he enjoys your cooking.”. Soap cuffed his nose again, sniffling as he looked at Konig a little surprised.

“… He does?”

“You are to wed, and this man has not told you such things?” Konig asked a little confused, moving to sit on the bed at Soap’s feet, the Scotsman shrugging weakly.

“He has… He always thanks me, tells me he appreciates it. Doesn’t let me do the dishes if I cook” He chuckled tearfully, quick to cuff his cheeks again as rogue tears slipped over, “… Didn’t think he talked to anyone about it though…”

“He has been quite vocal, many times, about how you always make MRE’s taste incredible. I would almost call it bragging, sometimes.” Konig smiled, a heartfelt chuckle warming his chest, and Soap’s cheeks reddened shyly as he sniffed quietly.

“… He’s usually pretty quiet when we’re on missions together, or with people he doesn’t know… I thought he was like that with everyone…”

“Oh he talks even when you are around.” Konig assured, offering Soap the tissue box to stop him from constantly using his shirt as a rag, and Soap took one sheepishly.

“What? When?”

“… Usually when we are done with our missions. You tend to fall asleep before him, lay against his shoulder- He does not mind. He often confides in Ale and I many things he admires about you… Your Ghost loves you so very much, Soap… I envy your bond, and hope I find one as proud of our love as Ghost is of yours.”. Soap’s lip wobbled as he smiled, crying into the scrunched up tissue in his hands as Konig sighed, shuffling closer and hugged Soap tightly, “He carried your ring for months, Soap… When I asked him why he would not simply ask for your hand, he smiled and told me, ‘every time Soap badgers me about ‘when am I just gonna’ hurry up and propose’, I waited another week just to torment the process. I was always going to. But I wanted to wait until he’d given up, when he would no longer see it coming. When the possibility had left his thoughts. So I could see him at his happiest.’”. Soap laughed painfully at that, clutching Konig’s shirt as he shook his head against the bigger man’s shoulder.

“That asshole… That’s such a fucking Simon thing to do…” Soap breathlessly chuckled into Konig’s shoulder pulling back to sit up and wipe his face again as Konig tilted his head gently.

“Ja.. He is an odd one, I will assure you of that. But I know he will come back to you, Soap. I have heard for many years now how that man regards you in his heart and mind, and this mission will not break him.” Konig affirmed gently, thumbing Soap’s cheeks dry as he sat there like a child, staring up at Konig, pout lipped and teary.

“… Thanks Kon…”

“You are most welcome, kleiner Habicht” Konig hummed warmly, standing from the bed and offered Soap his gloved hand gently, Soap silently taking hold and let himself be helped to his feet, tugging on his boots quickly as Konig waited by the door.

“… You weren’t made to promise to keep that stuff to yourself, were you?” Soap asked quietly as the pair made gentle progress to the mess hall, Konig giggling cheekily, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“If I was, your Ghost never made that clear.” Konig winked making Soap huff and shake his head, starting to feel a little more like himself. The other members of the 141 squad all looked at Soap wide-eyed in surprise as he entered the mess, excitement in their eyes that he was at least up and about.

“Soap-!” Ale shot to his feet like an excited child, Soap immediately hesitating and flinched as he stepped back into Konig, gasping as he looked up, and Konig’s eyes softened, nodding at him gently.

“It’s alright, kleiner Habicht… Would you like me to handle this?”. Soap nodded, clutching Konig’s forearm as he slid behind him, the other’s all falling quiet as Konig stepped in front of Soap, “If it is alright with the rest of you, just for now, Soap would still prefer less company. We’re just going to get something to eat, and will leave you to your business”. They all wilted slightly, but silently nodded in understanding as Ale sank back down into his seat.

“… ‘M sorry, Ale…” Soap mumbled quietly into Konig’s back, feeling guilty for not being ready, but Konig flexed his forearm softly in Soap’s grip making him look up.

“These people are your friends, and have worried about you so… You do not need to apologise. They know you will come to them when ready… It is okay…” Konig reassured softly like he were comforting a child, and Soap swallowed thickly as he nodded in silence, padding along behind Konig as he was lead into the kitchen. The pair cooked together in silence, a tender and thoughtful smile eventually curling Soap’s lips as he sliced away beside Konig, and the German certainly didn’t miss it. They made some basic wraps, Konig insisting they have something decent, but not to over indulge since Soap had barely eaten for nearly a week, and was trying to prevent shocking the Scotsman’s body too much. Soap hid on Konig’s far side as they left, and Konig gave the team an appreciative bow of his head as they passed and left the hall. They sat outside, nestled against the tire of one of the trucks in the sunshine, eating in silence as Soap simply stared at the horizon over the fence.

“… Thank you, for snapping me out of it, Konig..”

“You’ve no need to thank me, Soap. I had a feeling you would do it yourself in a few more days, but, when I had heard from the others they’d sparsely seen you eat, and would hear you pacing at all hours, I worried.” Konig admitted with a huff, lowering his mask fold now that he’d finished the last of his wrap and sighed, slouching lazily with a content hum in the baking warmth, “I know you would have done the same for me”. Soap swallowed his mouthful with a small smile, nodding meekly as he looked at the bigger frame beside him.

“Yeah.. I would have. This is hard on everyone- Ghost having to leave for so long, I mean.. I’m being selfish reacting like this- making everyone worry over me—“

“No-! No no!” Konig gasped, sitting up again suddenly as he looked at Soap beside him and shook his head, “No, Soap. You are hurting- hurting in a way none of us can understand, well, maybe Ale. But the rest of us-… To suddenly have your Ghost taken from you with no way to contact him quickly or accurately- It would hurt and scare me too.” Konig sighed as Soap listened intently, “You are not being selfish for needing time to process such a thing, Soap. I have no doubt your Ghost has probably already put some lesser men in the infirmary over his frustration with this…”. Soap smirked at that, remembering quite vividly the night he left and the gunman Ghost was ready to murder with his bare hands. “Our friends know you will stand with us again when you feel ready… They do not harbor anger or resentment for you Soap, they only worry, and wish they could help soothe your suffering.”. Soap’s throat tightened at this information and his smile wobbled against his lips.

“I got fucken lucky when it came to teammates, huh?”

“Lucky has nothing to do with it, kleiner Habicht… You’ve earned our hearts, so we bleed with you” Konig smiled gently as he squeezed Soap’s shoulder tightly, and Soap held his wrist in return just as firm.

“Thank you, Konig…”. The German tilted his head with a content chuckle, eyes quickly lifting as the security gate nearby was opened, and the courier van cruised inside.

“Ah! He is here…!” Konig grinned behind his mask as he stood and approached the courier with open arms and a warm welcome. Several priority folders were handed over as well as a stack of letters, the courier quick to bade farewell and leave the base. Soap had finished the last of his meal quickly collecting both their plates as Konig approached, sorting the letters into their receiving collections. Soap trotted across the small gap to meet him, looking hopeful, even if he didn’t mean to. Konig was nearing the end of the pile and it didn’t look promising, the bigger man’s eyes lidded as he check each one- but he quickly smiled.

“Konny??”

“Here, Little One… Two, from your Ghost”

“TWO?!” Soap screamed, both delight and confusion, almost dropping the plates as Konig handed the letters over. Soap snatched them excitedly, instantly recognising Ghost’s handwriting across the front, “Simon—Konig thank you, thank you, thank you!!”. Konig staggered backwards as Soap lunged into him, hugging him tightly, bouncing on his toes as he did so before turning on his heel and fled back inside. Konig was still wide eyed and stunned, chuckling sweetly as he watched Soap vanish through the doors and up the hall. Soap skidded into the mess to dump the plates, frightening everyone within, and no one got a chance to ask him where the fire was before he was gone again. Soap fled to Ghost’s room, practically diving onto the bed like a teenager, shuffling up to the pillows as he nestled down onto them, stuffing them to his chest. He opened the first letter hastily, trying not to rip it, but his desperate need to sound Ghost’s voice in his head was driving him mad.

Johnny…

First forty eight hours was nothing but travel, just bouncing from transport to transport. I don’t even think half these fuckers really know where I’m meant to be going.

Now that I’ve finally stopped, I can do this. Can put pen to paper and have it make sense, let my thoughts wander. It’s fuckin’ cold, Love- Given that’s comin’ from me, you know I’m not exaggerating.

Soap scoffed, as he thought about it; Ghost really wasn’t one to complain about the weather- about anything, really. But even in icy rain or whipping mountain air, Ghost would never comment let alone shiver like anyone else; especially Soap.

I’m thankful you let me take some shirts, it’s only been a couple of days, but opening my bag and it smells like you has grounded me harder than I thought possible. I miss you, madly, already. I’ll be doing everything I can to finish this as soon as I can and come home.

I know you told me not to get into any fights- but they don’t make it easy. Never thought I’d have to mantra ‘What Would Johnny Do?’ to avoid problems, much less fights. Guess you’re rubbing off on me finally.

Again Soap laughed softly at the thought, imagining his glowering, titan of a fiancé having to take a breath while muttering ‘what would Johnny do?’ quietly to himself, dead pan and void of emotion, bringing Soap more amusement than he thought it would.

Knew that would make you smile.

Soap hesitated when he read the line on its own, smiling weakly as he cuffed the thick tears that instantly pooled at the edges of his eyes.

Please don’t cry, Johnny. Not while I’m not there. Don’t cry while I’m gone, please. I know it will be hard, I know the others will look after you in my stead. I know I have nothing to worry about, that you’re a big boy, and you can look after yourself.

But I can’t help but worry about the man I love.

Just as I know you can’t help but worry about me. I won’t ask you not to. I won’t ask you not to think about the dumb shit I’ll have to go through without you. I’ll only ask that you try- try- not to neglect yourself over it, Love. Please. Don’t damage yourself worrying over me. I’ll be okay, and I’ll be home soon.

I love you, John.

-Si.

p.s. What you call a bear with no teeth?

                Gummy Bear.

Soap laughed. Loudly from his core, his face meeting the pillows as the uncontrollable laughter rang throughout Ghost’s room. Even worlds apart, Ghost was trying to distract Soap from the pain, just like he had after Grave’s betrayal. Soap sniffled as he thumbed the letter carefully, folding it back up and settled it back in the envelope, moving straight to the next one and opened it quickly, gasping when its contents simply fell out before him.

It was an Adder Stone necklace. Soap sat up quickly, stone in hand and scrambled off the bed, almost slipping over as he sped into Ghost’s bathroom, pulling his head through the leather cord and tightened it hastily. Soap exhaled shakily as he traced the dark stone above his collarbones, the cord snug against his skin, the perfect fit. He took a breath, deep and slow to steady himself as he squeezed the stone in hand, closing his eyes as he swallowed heavily.

“No more tears.. No more tears.. No more tears..” Soap whispered softly to himself as he held the necklace firm, opening his eyes on himself in the mirror and smiled a little stronger, clearly picturing Ghost stood behind his shoulder, giving him that small nod of confidence and pride whenever they were to step onto the field together. Soap quickly jogged back to the bed, double checking the envelope that held the necklace and he was glad he did, a small single note still wedged inside;

Only true Adder Stone I’ve ever seen. Knew it had to stay with only other most precious thing in my life.

Soap traced Ghost’s handwriting carefully, his heart aching in his chest as he kissed the note softly, holding it against his lips, wishing- praying- Ghost could feel him. Soap gathered up the envelopes, quickly retreating to his own room and shuffled through the boxes under his bed, smiling when he found one of the brand new, empty sketch books. With his usual spark of life back in his eyes, Soap got to work. He was sketching again- creating a new book for while Ghost was gone. He glued the note from the necklace to the first page, drawing the necklace itself beside it to every detail. He drew how he imagined Ghost would was sat writing the letter; hunched over a small desk with a tiny lamp, a homesick fondness in his lidded eyes, but under the correct light, you’d see the small smile behind his mask. Soap spent just over an hour starting his new book, smiling fondly at his handy work before closing it gently and excitedly dashed out of his room.

“Konig--!! Ale--!!” Soap called breathlessly as he came running into the gym, Konig backing out of his grappling practice with Rudy as Ale re-racked the bench press, sitting up hastily, “Rudy, you’re here too—Where’s Price? And Gaz??”

“His office, I think. I last saw Gaz heading for the weapons locker. Something about needing to clean his pistol” Rudy shrugged, but Konig quickly noticed the new accessory.

“An Adder Stone…!” Konig breathed, and Soap grinned.

“He found it, and turned it into a necklace for me” Soap blushed as Ale and the others admired it warmly.

“… It is good to see life back in you, hermano” Ale smiled gently as he squeezed Soap’s bicep affectionately, the Scotsman’s shoulders loosening as his head dipped slightly in guilt.

“I’m sorry I pushed you guys away. That I worried you…”

“Nah. You needed time to grieve, Soap. Being torn from the people you cherish most. I understand it- but that it doesn’t make it any easier.” Ale reassured lovingly, squeezing Soap’s neck softly, Soap nodding in his grip as Ale pulled him into a hug, patting Soap’s back hard.

“Now I gotta’ figure out what I’m gonna’ tell him”

“The truth- that you’ve been a sobbing mess who raided the supply room to hoard the fucking tissues!” Rudy teased, immediately bringing Soap out of his sinker and into a play fight, the two slapping at the other’s weak fists as they laughed, Soap finally getting Rudy in a headlock, noogieing him hard.

“It wasn’t hoarding—I’ve only used three boxes!!”

“Alright- Alright--! You’re gonna’ put a hole in my skull!” Rudy yielded, rubbing the top of his head with a groan as Soap released and straightened with him. The pair caught their breath a moment as Soap quickly glanced around to those present, smiling gratefully, his eyes softening on each individual.

“Thanks you guys… I’m better now.. Not okay- I won’t go that far, but… I’m better” Soap warmed, his smile still quaint and in truth a little saddened, but he was smiling brighter regardless. The others nodded, piling in, wrapping Soap up in a loving group hug making him chuckle like a child, trapped in the middle, letting out a broken and hysterically winded laugh when Konig actually squeezed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Lieutenant, you with us?”. Ghost blinked. Lifting his mindless gaze from the floor to the team of soldiers around him. He rubbed his chest, exhaling deeply, and the scorched breath instantly fogged as it was swept away on the wind. Ghost closed his eyes a moment, centring on the deep warmth at its core before opening his golden eyes again, his cocky smirk hidden behind his mask as he straightened his posture, pulling his shoulders back as he stood at his full height.

“Aye. Just got a good feeling boys, that’s all.”. The other soldiers spared him a glance as the squad leader gave him a weak smirk, tossing his head for Ghost to share his thoughts, but all he did was approach slightly as the Helo began to swing low.

“Alright- You all know the plan. Let’s clear this facility and get those hostages out clean. Understood?”. There was a rallying cry in response, Ghost silent at the back of the pack, checking his sniper rifle was secure before following the small team off the Helo. The soldiers spread and made ground for the target building, Ghost sprinted off wide field for clear shots on high ground. He made fast time for the nearby hill, skidding straight into prone position and he was set up in seconds.

“Ghost, how copy?”

“In position. Clear visual on targets.” Ghost eyed the two floors critically through his scope, steadying his breathing as he watched the armed men corral the civilians inside. “four armed, second floor. Two stationary with the civilians, one blocking the emergency exit, the last patrolling the windows.”

“Copy. Ground floor?”

“Five armed. Three civilians. Both main and rear door guarded, each hostage held at point.”

“Fuck..”

“Stay your men on the ground. Send three to the fire stairs. I’ll take out the hostile blocking the door- clean and sweep—“

“It’ll just send the guys underneath on a killing spree”

“If you’d shut the fuck up and let me finish” Ghost snarled over the radio, the line going silent, “Line men at both main and rear doors- I drop the doormen on top floor, then the two on first- your boys take out the final three on ground pincer manoeuvre”. There was silence again, and Ghost didn’t like his orders being considered, let alone potentially ignored.

“Rodger. Out.”. Ghost took a breath and nestled his rifle into his shoulder tightly, watching through his scope as the other soldiers quickly split and rounded the building, following Ghost’s orders. Ghost lined up the hostile on the top floor by the fire door, the soldiers ready for the shot, and Ghost took it. The shot rang out, the hostile’s head painting the wall beside him, the fire door was slammed open moments after- Ghost released the casing, reloading, dropping his aim. The two doormen beneath still stunned—second shot; one was down—He inhaled sharply, releasing the casing, reloading the barrel, shifting to the final target and he froze. One of the other hostiles had thrown him a hostage, using her as a shield. Ghost’s finger trembled on the trigger case, inhaling shakily as he watched the woman scream in terror in the man’s hold.

Ghost-

Soap!

Watch the window—

Ghost hissed his exhale. Eyes hardening as he leant into the butt of his rifle.

“I didn’t let you take him. I won’t let you take her.”. Ghost held his breath and steadied his barrel, then the woman did something incredible- but reckless. She threw her head back, collecting the hostile in the nose and he dropped her. Ghost took the clear shot, killing him instantly and the doors blew open, killing the last of the hostiles without resistance.

“… Ghost. How copy?”

“Copy, Corporal.”

“Some fucking wild shots, Lieutenant. What was with the delay on the third?”

“Target compromised my shot. Wasn’t going to shoot through a civilian to get him.”

“Fair judgement. Meet us inside. Out”

“Rodger.”. He stood with a grunt of effort, expelling the spent case and reloaded his clip, sighing as he made his way to the building. The room was awash in mixed reactions to Ghost’s arrival. Most of the civilians stared up at him in silent terror, his shadowed eyes watching them all intensely, but the woman who’d fought back approached him.

“You- You saved me?”

“No. You saved yourself. Hell of a fucking thing you did just now- gave me the clear shot I needed. How’s your head?” he smirked, tilting his head slightly and she awkwardly rubbed the back of her head.

“Sore.”

“Expected. Not bleeding?”

“No.”

“Good. Ice it when you can. You’ll be fine.”. He went to turn away and begin sweeping for information, but she grabbed his elbow gently making him stop and look at her sharply, “What is it?”

“… Thank you.”. She let go of him then, bowing politely and returned to the others as the soldiers began evacuating them to a safe location. Ghost squeezed his gun tightly, swallowing thickly as he heard the corporal approach behind him.

“That the civi?”

“Yeah.”

“She okay?”

“Fine. Hell of a woman. She’d do well in the military.”. The corporal side eyed Ghost a moment then, nodding curiously.

“Huh… Didn’t think you appreciated women much, given it’s a pretty popular topic at the moment about how much you like men”. Ghost’s eyes hardened dangerously, lowering his glare onto the man beside him.

“You bring up my boy without my consent again, and you dumb fuckers can find another dog to hunt your mark”.

“Whoa now, easy there- You didn’t exactly hide it—“

“Doesn’t give you piss-stains the right to discuss it” Ghost hissed, turning to face the smaller man, and tilted his head, “Or should I even the field, Mr. Kendrick-“. The raven haired Corporal hesitated then, eyes flickering in shock briefly before Ghost continued, “- Father of three. Wife in California. Mistress in Washington. Exclusive patron of a well-known, and dare I say expensive, strip club not even a half-hour drive from your front door.”. Kendrick paled as he stared up at Ghost, his golden irises alight in fury as he stared back.

“H-How did you find that information…”

“I’m fucking Ghost, of Elite Special Forces Squad 141. If I want to know who I’m working for; I will find out.” Ghost replied quietly, both a heavy threat and warning in his tone before he straightened and turned away moving for the stairs and began to sweep the building and fallen enemies for potential information. The team regrouped and moved out, all silent on the Helo as the Corporal avoided Ghost like the plague, relaying his instructions to the pilot before they lifted off. Ghost sat in his seat, eyes closed as he exhaled calmly, gripping his rifle and smiled behind his mask feeling his ring tighten against his skin.

This is beautiful, this is everything. If you don’t let them feel better I will cry my eyes out

Soap!Ghost MINI SERIES. Pact Maker Pt.1

Purely Self Indulgent. Had this idea, along with many others I'll eventually get to. Overview; Ghost has to go Solo, and Soap is not about it from the start- especially for how long, and what it could potentially ruin,

Count; 5880 NSFW. Angst. Fluff. Swearing. Physical Abuse (though unintentional). Self Doubt. Jealous Partners. Protective Friends. Make up cuddles.

Price’s office had never been filled with such tension. Such anger. Such genuine, and raw malcontent. He was sat at his desk, fingers laced, and rested on a closed file. Ghost sat opposite him, silent, unmoving. Soap, however, paced like a wild animal in a cage. His strides were long and heavy, boots thudding like iron on the wood. Ghost swallowed thickly, glancing to the man as he appeared in the corner of his vision, before Soap shifted on his heel and went back the way he came.

“You’ll wear tracks in my floor-“

“I don’t give a fuck about your floor!” Soap roared from the back of the room, making Ghost flinch. He’d never heard Soap yell like this- let alone because of him.

“MacTavish, I know you’re upset, son-“

“Upset?! Upset?!” Soap repeated, closing the gap with intent to harm and Ghost stood quickly, catching Soap around the middle and held him back, “I’m more than upset, Captain! How could you approve this! Better yet, how dare you!!”

“Johnny- Stop. Please” Ghost begged quietly, Soap barely sparing him a glance at he pointed at Price furiously, his engagement band glinting in the pale office light.

“You should have stood up-! Should have said no-! How could you let them take him! Take him from me!!”

“My hands were more than tied, MacTavish. The orders came from well over me- and Laswell—Even that new fucker in place of Shepard. They saw what Ghost can do… The security footage of his shot that saved your life that night in Chicago, and more…” Price sighed, Soap’s chest still heaving in fury as Ghost’s hands remained on Soap’s waist ready to stop him if he tried to charge forward.

“Did you even tell them? Three months, Price… Three. Months. I’ve already done the math- if everything goes to plan and stays on course, do you know when he’ll get back?”

“John-“

“Do you?!”

“… No. No John, I don’t. I received the order file, and I called you both- I shouldn’t have even called you, to be honest. This is meant to be a private and confidential mission brief. A need to know only operation. But you are Ghost’s fiancé now, and I knew this mission would cut it close, clearly a little too close…”. Soap barely softened at that, shaking his head a little as his right hand gripped at Ghost’s jacket tightly.

“That doesn’t excuse this, Price. None of it. If this all goes well, and he even makes it home? It’ll be on the fucking night of our wedding day.”

“I’m sorry, son. I do wish there was more I could do- to change this”

“Then tell them he’s not going! O-Or that he’ll only be there for part of the deployment! We’re not here to babysit grunts and show them how it’s done! There’s PT’s and field officers, and their own fucking missions for that kind of bullshit!!”

“Soap that’s enough- You’re going to work yourself up” Ghost pleaded softly, taking hold of Soap’s wrist, tugging it to his chest.

“Going to..? Well fuck, maybe we shouldn’t get married after all if you can’t even tell when I’m about to fucking sod a man”

“Soap, stop it. Please… I don’t want this any more than you do-“

“Then stand up for yourself for once!!” Soap bellowed in his face, his eyes darting between Ghost’s searching for even a hint of self-preservation or defiance, shaking his head softly when all he saw was defeat and heartache, “… I don’t believe it..”

“John-“ Ghost’s finger’s tightened on Soap’s waist, trying to hold him steady, but Soap punched him square in the mouth; hard. Ghost staggered back, gloved hand to the mouth of his masked face, Price shot to his feet to intervene but Ghost raised a hand, staying the captain in place, both he and Soap breathing hard.

“Don’t-… Don’t fucking touch me- Stay away from me-“

“John-“

“Touch me and I swear we’re done!!”. Ghost froze dead, staring at Soap wide eyed in shock and horror, fear paling him as his knees buckled slightly, “Don’t touch me, Simon. Just leave me alone. I can’t look at either of you”. Soap left Price’s office, slamming the door behind him, his footsteps quickly fading up the hall. Ghost was still frozen in place, staring at the door, and exhaled shakily.

They’d never fought. Never thrown hands at each other- aside from training. Never said a harsh word or let another dig too far. They’d never raised their voices at one another, understanding such a thing could trigger a panic attack or mental blackout.

This… Ghost had never seen Soap like this.

“That looked like a solid hit- are you alright?” Price asked, his voice quiet and remorseful. Ghost slid his mask up, cuffing his mouth on his forearm with a wince feeling his lip sting, noting the heavy streak of red and swallowed thickly.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”.

“We need to discuss the last of this mission brief, Ghost. I’m sorry.”

“… Not your fault, Captain.” Ghost replied quietly, the usual spark of strength and witty charm it usually held gone. He was heartbroken and scared, he felt empty and alone; and he was unable to hide it this time. Ghost fidgeted with his ring beneath his glove for the rest of the briefing, eyes fixed on the information he and Price went over. Not a word sinking in as Ghost’s chest ached endlessly and his mind raced with other thoughts- all of Soap.

“… Take the folder. Keep studying up on your own time. You leave tonight-“

“To-… What? Tonight?? Price- that’s too much”

“It’s the orders, Ghost. A Helo will be here for you at twenty-hundred sharp… I hope you and Soap can work this out before you need to leave, Ghost. I really do”. Ghost took the folder in a tight and angry grip, leaving without another word and thundered straight for his room. Soap had returned to his own room, pacing around the neat space, furious tears heavily pooled at the edges of his eyes, muttering bitter curses in Gaelic. He finally fell into a sit on the edge of his bed, fisting the sheets as his knee bounced, trying to quell the hurricane brewing within him. His eyes snapped around his room, looking for something- anything- to distract himself, his eyes finally settling on his open sketch book on his desk. On heavy legs he stood and crossed the room, sitting down with a broken exhale, and his trembling fingers struggled to pick up the book. He traced the half-finished sketch of Rudy and Ale- The pair mid cheers- a small fond memory Soap had after they’d gotten Ale back. He flipped back, looking at the different sceneries he’d drawn, the cities and people. He flicked the page again, and there was one of Ghost; His mask pushed up, a cigarette in his curious-smile curled lips, a wondrous glimmer in his eyes as they bore into the viewer of the sketch. Soap slammed the book shut on his desk and shoved it away, knocking over several of his organizers and sketch kits, and it all finally hit him. Soap’s lent on his desk, his face in his palms, and he finally cried. He tried to stifle his sobs into his hands, but nothing could contain the sounds of such agony.

Soap’s anguished cries effortlessly bled beneath his door, you didn’t have to be near to hear it. Soap doubled over, arms folded against his desk, burying himself into the crook of his elbow, trying to get a hold of himself- of his emotions- of his spiralling anxiety. There was a knock on his door, soft and cautious, and his door handle squeaked softly after.

“I told you to stay away from me--!” Soap cried angrily as he sat up to look towards to door, hesitating and froze in surprise when Konig was half way into his room. Konig looked mortified, his shadowed eyes mirroring Soap’s agony as worry glossed them brightly.

“Kleiner Habicht, what has happened?” Konig asked softly, his voice low and gentle, offering a small host of warmth to what he sensed as a long cold sadness. Soap stared at him in disbelief, his features soon twisting again into agony and he stood from his desk hurriedly, the chair tipping backward with the force before Soap fled into Konig’s hold. He slugged his arms around the bigger man’s ribs, and immediately began sobbing again. Konig gasped, clutching Soap tight and stood his ground, cradling the back of Soap’s head into his chest and sighed. Konig carefully pushed the door shut, beginning to sway gently as he held Soap steady.

There had to be a reason why Ghost wasn’t here. There had to be a sensible cause for Soap to be so distraught. He saw Soap still had his ring on as he all but ran into Konig’s arms, but the German was still unable to stifle the frustration that brewed inside him, that he was here holding Soap when he was so upset, and Ghost was not.

Ghost was stood in his bedroom, hand gripping the doorhandle tightly, but he was frozen with inaction. Of course he’d heard the slam and battering from Soap trashing his desk. Of course he heard him begin to cry. Of course he wanted to tear down the hall and rip Soap’s door off its fucking hinges and hold him so tight his spine snapped.

But Soap’s words terrified him. Touch me and I swear we’re done!!.

Would Soap really do that? He didn’t mean it, surely. Not after everything they’d been through. He was just hurting; scared, like Ghost is. Ghost had seen the look in Soap’s eyes when he’d proposed- that joy- that pure unbridled joy he’d only ever heard the girls in senior high drool over at lunch to their friends, or seen in movies. It was real. It was a real thing that existed, and he brought it out in Johnny, and Johnny in him.

Ghost blinked and his grip stiffened on the door handle, twisting it angrily and tore his door open. Soap flinched in Konig’s arms at the bang from far up the hall, gasping sharply when Ghost pushed the door open, slamming it into Konig’s back. The pair staggered further into Soap’s room as Ghost followed in, confusion in his eyes at the whole situation, prickling with rage.

“Konig. What are you doing in here?” Ghost’s voice was low, angry, protective. He spared a glance to Soap in his arms and bit down the immediate stab of fury that tried to spur his tongue.

“You.” Konig answered just as gravelled and bitter. He gently pushed Soap from his hold, holding him back at arm’s length as Konig faced Ghost, brow furrowing behind his mask, “Why must I be here, and not you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You would have heard your ones cries. Why did you ignore him?”

“I wasn’t ignoring him-“ Ghost countered taking a step forward, his frustration quickly rising in his voice.

“Then why did I have to come?”

“You didn’t, you could have minded your own fucking business-“

“Ghost!”. He froze at Soap’s voice, snapping out of his building bloodlust, looking down at Soap just behind Konig, and took his step back, “… Konig, Ghost and I had a fight.”. The German looked surprised at this information, incredibly so. Even he knew the pair were always sensitive to one another’s emotions, thus triggers, to avoid such things, ”… I yelled at him to leave me alone. Not to touch me. He wasn’t ignoring me, I actually have no doubt staying away just now would have been really difficult.”. He looked up at Ghost, and the hellish suffering in Ghost’s eyes silently affirmed as much.

“… You should not have listened to him, Ghost.” Konig frowned, like Ghost should have known better, “I’m angry at you. You should have come when you heard his first tears…”.

“I know… I know I should have.” Ghost admitted, his shoulder’s loosening, and Soap’s eyes softened as he watched Ghost yield to the bigger soldier, “But I was afraid, Konig. What caused our fight, is something that can’t be changed. It’s going to take me away from him, from all of you, for a very long time”. Konig’s brows shift into a deep worry, knotting them together as he watched Ghost swallow thickly, “… So I’ll need you to protect him for me, Konig, until I can come home and marry him. Do you understand?”. Konig sighed then, deep and heavy with bitter understanding.

“… Ja mein Bruder… Ich werde ihn mit meinem Leben beschützen”. Konig huffed then, pivoting to look down at Soap and ruffled his Mohawk gently, “You two are too bonded to fight, Soap. No more tears.”. He could barely smile as Konig turned away, giving Ghost a sympathetic bow of his head, leaving as he quietly closed the door behind him, the pair left to talk.

“… I’m sorry I hit you” Soap finally mumbled, fidgeting with the cuts on his fingers, and Ghost was quick to smother both his hands in a single grip of his own to stop him.

“Stop it… They were finally starting to heal… And, it’s okay, Love. I deserved it- besides, it was a clean and solid hit. All your training with Konig is paying off…”. Soap’s bottom lip wobbled and he had to look down, carefully moving both his hands to squeeze Ghost’s singular one tightly, and all Ghost could muster was a weak smile.

“… ‘m sorry”. Ghost pulled Soap into him tightly, cradling Soap into the crook of his neck, squeezing him like a vice. Another broken sob escaped Soap’s throat, his hands digging under Ghost’s jacket, gripping the shirt at his back tightly as he pushed as close into Ghost’s hold as he could. Ghost squeezed his eyes shut, fingertips digging into Soap’s body relentlessly, terrified to lose a single moment now that he could hold him without fear.

“They’re taking me tonight, Johnny”.

“What…?” Soap breathed, disbelief and pain filling his voice as he pulled back, trying to look up at Ghost, but the blond wouldn’t let him move, “Simon-“

“Don’t let go, Johnny… Please. A Helo is coming for me tonight, and then… I have to wait to hold you again…”. Soap’s hands trembled against Ghost’s back, slowly redoubling his grip as he closed his eyes against Ghost’s throat again.

“… Have you packed?”

“No… It’s been kinda hard to think about anything other than you, Love…”. Soap cried quietly into Ghost’s neck, trembling when he felt Ghost dip his head lower and rub his jaw against Soap’s, having to bite his bottom lip when he felt Ghost begin to tremble. If Ghost broke, there’d be no one to hold either of them up.

“… The sooner we pack your bag, the longer we can hold each other without worrying about it” Soap whimpered quietly, Ghost nodding briefly, but swallowed thickly.

“… I know. I know.”

“Can we please just get it done? I just-… I just want to hold you, Simon”. Ghost nodded briefly again, straightening with a broken exhale, his body trembling as he held Soap’s cheek in his palm, thumbing it gently.

“… I’m so sorry, John..”

“Don’t-… Don’t Simon. Please. Don’t make this harder than it already is and will be.” Soap whimpered, shaking his head in Ghost’s touch, and the blond shakily withdrew, squeezing Soap’s hand tightly as they turned to leave his room, moving to Ghost’s where they began to pack his duffle. Soap sat beside the bag on Ghost’s bed, taking the clothes handed to him, folding them neatly before setting them inside. They were both silent during the process, terrified that severing the void would cause one of or both of them to break completely. As Soap lay the last of Ghost’s kit within, he swallowed thickly, looking at its contents and pushed to stand on shaky legs.

“Where are you going?”

“Just- back to my room for a minute… I’ll be right back” Soap replied quietly, soothing the panic in Ghost’s voice with a weak, but tender smile. Ghost moved the bag to the floor at the foot of the bed, zipping it shut with a shiver, and unintentional hiccup of distress. He covered his mouth quickly, grunting in pain when he touched his split open lip and pulled his mask free. Ghost dropped the mask to his bed, padding to the mirror in the corner of his room and observed himself with a sigh; that was a hell of a split alright. Ghost’s mouth and chin was doused in his blood, the mask not doing much to absorb the crimson liquid, and Ghost sighed. He was in his bathroom when Soap returned, the Scotsman’s brow rising in gentle worry when he heard Ghost’s grunts of discomfort and running water. Soap put a small pair of books on Ghost’s bed before approaching, gasping in horror at the damage he’d actually done to Ghost, tears filling his eyes as Ghost looked at him and smiled.

“Told you it was a good one-“

“Simon..! I-I—I’m so sorry!!”

“Love- it’s alright… Nothin’ a couple butterfly stitches won’t fix…” Ghost tried to soothe, but Soap was a mess. He pushed Ghost to rest against the basin, his trembling hands opening his medkit and pulling on a pair of gloves, making Ghost’s eyes lid adoringly.

“bhuail mi e-… bhuail mi e--…” Soap whimpered quietly to himself over and over as he properly cleaned Ghost’s split lip. Ghost still wasn’t perfect at interpreting Gaelic, but he’d been practicing for moments like this. “…Bhuail mi e, tha mi nam uilebheist-“

“Na dean…”. Soap froze. His eyes widened in shock on Ghost’s heartbroken stare, the blond shaking his head a little in Soap’s hands, his bloodied lips etching up into a smile at the corners, “Chan eil mi ann an gaol le uilebheist…”. Soap’s brow met Ghost’s chest with a heavy thud and whimper, Ghost wrapping Soap up in his arms as he stroked the back of Soap’s head intimately, “You didn’t mean it, Love. And I can see and feel in every moment how sorry you are. You’re agonizing yourself over this. No monster would do such a thing”. Soap clutched Ghost’s sides tightly as he was held, whimpering against Ghost’s chest as more tears soaked into the bigger man’s clothes.

“I’m so sorry, Simon-“

“Sshh… That’s enough… It’s okay, Love. It’s okay.” Ghost whispered back, rubbing the base of Soap’s spine delicately through his shirt- discovering a while ago, this was an effective way to help calm Soap down- and Soap smacked Ghost’s wrist lightly, playfully, to make him stop.

“Quit. That’s cheating.”

“Do you feel better…?”

“No…”

“Liar.” Ghost smiled softly as Soap lifted his head from Ghost’s chest, delicately dabbing the pooled blood away again, and got to work setting the butterfly stitch clips in place carefully. Ghost’s eyes remained fixed on Soap’s solemn features, trying not to smile as Soap would quickly cuff his cheeks on his shoulder, putting the last clip in place.

“… It should heal up in couple weeks…”

“Normally it’s only a few days- Should be proud”

“Simon..”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Love. I’m sorry.” Ghost sighed, thumbing the last of Soap’s tears away as Soap peeled the gloves from his hand, tossing them in the little waste bin, “You went back to your room to get something, right?” Ghost then smiled as he changed topic, lifting Soap’s chin delicately with his index knuckle, tilting his head curiously as Soap nodded shyly, “Well…? Can I see?”. Soap nodded again, tidying the medkit, and put it away carefully, taking Ghost’s hand and tugged him back to the bed. Ghost heeled off his boots, placing them neatly beside his duffle bag and Soap hesitated at the edge, watching Ghost curiously, and he smiled weakly as Ghost shuffled to the far side, and laid down. Soap followed his lead, quick to kick off his own boots, and picked up the two sketch books, crawling onto the bed to lay in Ghost’s arms.

“… I went and got you these…”

“A couple of your sketch books?”

“Mhm… One’s already full.. The other one, only a few pages…”

“You want me to try and draw?” Ghost mused, his arm tucked snug under Soap’s neck, mindlessly toying with the quills atop his head.

“Only if you feel like it, and if you get time… I just.. Thought they might help keep you grounded while you’re gone” Soap replied quietly, suddenly feeling foolish as he cheeks reddened, “… Maybe I should just give you my filled out ones.. You won’t have time- I still don’t even know if you like sketching—“

“Baby..” Ghost hushed, his fingers running down Soap’s cheek to his jaw, smiling gently as he tilted Soap’s attention off the books to himself, “I’d love to take them, both of them… I like sketching- I’m just no good at it; I’m nothing like you”

“Yet..” Soap corrected softly, a wishful glint in his eyes as Ghost chuffed, kissing Soap’s forehead gently.

“Mm. Yet… Who knows… I might be better than you by the time I get back”

“That’d be nice.. We could sketch together then.. I’d like that..” Soap trailed off quietly at the thought, tucking his knee between Ghost’s as he nestled closer.

“Yeah?... Well, even if I still suck, would you mind if I still tried to sketch with you?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind at all..!” Soap gasped, seeming shocked by the proposal looking up at him from Ghost’s chest, “I-… Simon I’ve wanted to share more hobbies with you for years…”

“I know… I’m sorry I haven’t been very willing to step out of my comfort zone-“

“Don’t say that. Please, Si… You’ve taken bounds out of your comfort zone since we’ve met, and more since we started dating. Don’t think you’re still in a tiny box, Si… You’ve no idea the progress you’ve made”. Ghost’s own cheeks reddened softly, a coy smile on his lips as he brushed his fingers through Soap’s streak of quills, eyes visibly tracing every inch of his face.

“… I’m going to miss you, John”. The words ruined him. Both men weakened heavily as Soap tucked the books behind him, wriggling as close to Ghost as he could as the pair tangled together, “I’m gonna’ miss you so much”. Soap bit his cheek, his throat constricting and it took everything he had not to scream. He couldn’t keep crying, that wasn’t fair on Ghost. He bit the tears back, running his hands up Ghost’s back and cradled the base of his skull, softly running his nails against Ghost’s scalp.

“I’m gonna’ miss you too, Simon… So fucking much” Soap whispered painfully, flinching when he felt Ghost hiccup. He’d broken. Ghost had finally cracked after all these years. Soap had never seen him cry, not once. Even injured, instinctive tears of pain never came to Ghost, and for the longest time Soap was genuinely convinced Ghost was physically unable to cry. Soap’s eyes barely opened, his lips wobbling as he rolled them together into a thin line, pinching them between his teeth. It didn’t take long for Ghost’s tears to reach Soap’s skin, making Soap tremble as he redoubled his hold, as did Ghost. He didn’t sob or scream, but he could barely breathe, shaking as he fisted Soap’s shirt and smothered him in his grasp.

“You promise you’ll wait for me?”. Soap was grasping at threads to keep his walls standing, managing a nod and a muffled noise of affirmation, “I’m coming back. I promise you, Johnny. I promise I’ll be home in time”

“I know you will, Si… I believe you, with all my heart” Soap whimpered, choking off a small whine as Ghost adjusted himself slightly, pressing his face to Soap’s, the pair nuzzling and blindly mapping the other’s face with their own.

“Tha gaol agam ort, nas motha na bhios fios agad gu bràth…” Ghost breathed against Soap’s lips before kissing them hard and desperately, and Soap came undone. His tears bled over although his eyes were shut, kissing Ghost back with just as much desperation and passion until they had to break for air.

“You can’t keep doing that to me” Soap cried softly, tugging at the chest of Ghost’s jacket weakly in frustration as Ghost barely opened his eyes to look at Soap before him.

“What? Do what, Love?”

“Stop using my mother tongue against me- it’s not fair” Soap pouted and Ghost laughed weakly through his tears, putting his brow to Soap’s and kissed the bridge of his nose softly.

“Sorry… But I’m saying everything correctly though, right?”

“With the worst British accent mixed into it, yeah”

“You’re such a dick”

“Yeah, and I’m all yours” Soap taunted weakly, the pair trembling as they looked at one another, tears mixing together against their skin as Ghost smiled painfully.

“Good… Good, I dunno’ if I’d cope if I lost you…”

“You’ll never lose me, Simon. No matter what, okay?”. Ghost’s eyes lidded slightly at the words. There were some promises and vows you couldn’t make in this industry, no matter how brave or how much you loved someone; a human is still just a human.

“Nor you, I” Ghost replied weakly, suppressing his fear for Soap’s sake, giving his man that pledge to hold tight while he was gone. Soap smiled back, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his face back against Ghost’s, the blond closing his eyes tight and mimicked the affection, securing Soap in his arms, the pair finding a moment to rest. The tiniest piece of calm before the storm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghost jolted awake sharply at the heavy knocks to his door, his arm snapping off Soap’s back to grab the sheets behind him protectively, ready to throw himself over the smaller man to defend him. Soap flinched, gasping as he clutched at Ghost’s chest, and dared peak back over his shoulder to the door.

“Ghost. Warning call. Helo touches down in twenty.” Price called through the door gently, his voice still heavy with sadness and what Soap hoped was regret, the pair listening to Price’s footfall disappear up the hall.

“… Fuck” Ghost sighed quietly, releasing the covers and ran his hand up Soap’s back gently, continuing to cradle him close.

“Maybe sleeping wasn’t the best idea..”

“Why not?”

“… The last few hours I had with you are gone..”

“But you were in my arms none-the-less…” Ghost reasoned warmly, looking down at Soap in his hold, delicately stroking Soap’s cheek, heart aching in his chest as Soap smiled at him tenderly.

“Yeah… I suppose you’re right…”

“When am I wrong?”

“Oof… We’ve only got twenty minutes, Si.. We don’t have that kinda’ time”

“Brat.” Simon chuffed, as Soap’s cheeks warmed under Ghost’s continued affection, rubbing his cheeks against Ghost’s touch.

“… I know I’m giving you the books, but… Is there anything you want to take with you?”

“… You”

“Simon”

“I know… I’m sorry.” Ghost sighed, peppering soft kisses to Soap’s face as the Scotsman simply let himself soak in the affection, burning the feeling of Ghost’s lips against his skin to memory, “… Can I have a couple of your shirts?”

“Of course… You can take as many as you want, Si…” Soap nodded, looking up as Ghost shyly pulled back, the pair slowly getting out of bed and tugged their boots back on, Ghost unable to stop the tremors from picking up again. They shuffled through Soap’s drawers together, ghost knowing exactly which shirts he wanted, and Soap was happy to part with him if it meant helping Ghost through this. Soap watched as Ghost slid the sketch books and his shirts into the duffle, zipping it up again and looked at his trembling hands. Soap knelt carefully beside him, taking hold of Ghost’s closest hand and threaded their fingers together tightly, giving Ghost his bravest smile when the blond looked at him.

“You’ll stay, until the Helo is gone, won’t you?”. Soap’s smile cracked slightly as he nodded, squeezing Ghost’s hand tighter.

“Of course. Of course I will, Love.” He assured gently, both of them hesitating at the every familiar hum of the large aircraft beginning to resonate outside. The both stood on shaky legs as Soap handed him a clean balaclava, watching the blond slide it on carefully and slowly. They started the final process reluctantly, Ghost’s duffle in one hand, and Soap’s in the other as they left the room together, Soap turning Ghost’s bedroom light off with a hard tremble. The walk out to the landing zone seemed shorter than it ever had, the pair trying to take as long as possible, shortening their strides as Soap hugged Ghost’s arm tightly.

“Lieutenant, it’s an honour to meet you” one of the officers grinned as he approached, offering his hand to shake, but Ghost simply shoved his duffle into the man’s grip.

“Thanks..”. The man was stunned to say the least, awkwardly taking the bag and turned back to the Helo, taking it up the ramp and set it aside as Soap pulled Ghost close.

“It’ll be okay, Si.. You’ll see- it’ll fly—We’ll be together again soon” Soap tried to reassure him softly as he looked up at Ghost’s shadowed irises, but all Ghost did was tilt his head slightly in silence, lidded eyes staring down at Soap in pure adoration and love.

“… I love you, John Riley… Change nothing about our wedding day, I’ll be there. I promise.”. Soap wilted, biting his lip to try and stop himself from crying all over again as he nodded, pressing into Ghost’s chest tightly.

“And I’ll be waiting for you…” Soap whimpered against his collar, the pair holding each other tight as the refuel lead was disengadged from the Helo.

“Lieutenant. Wrap it up. We’re out bound five ago”

“Try and order me one more fucking time and I’ll put you, and your fucking men down faster than a rabid dog. Am I understood, solider?!”. The gunman hesitated sharply, paling under Ghost’s savage stare, but his touch and hold on Soap was still ever gentle.

“Y-Yessir. Apologies, Sir.”

“Get the fuck out of my sight, I’ll board when I’m ready.”. The soldier left in a hurry, scampering away, tail between his legs, and Soap couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“Maybe if you just yell at enough people they’ll send you home for being too problematic”

“I can only fucking hope, Love…” Ghost sighed, cradling Soap’s cheek as he thumbed it softly, “I’ll write you..”

“W-Write..? Why can’t we call—“

“They’ve restricted my comms… I’m granted airmail- that will be checked for information leaks or mission details… I can’t even have a burn phone”. Soap looked even more sick and heartbroken than before, he at least thought he’d get to hear Ghost’s voice every now and then, but now...

“Wait-“ Soap gently tugged from Ghost’s hands, patting his pockets down frantically until he found his phone, desperately flicking through the apps until he found the recorder and started it, “Tell me you love me again”

“What?”

“Simon…”. Soap’s voice was breaking, the timer silently counting away as Ghost realised what Soap was doing. Ghost smiled painfully behind his mask, pulling Soap close again as he cradled Soap’s phone in his hand and held the mic close.

“I love you, John Riley. I’ll finish this, and come home to make you mine forever. I promise…. I’ll be thinking of you, always… Never doubt for a moment that I don’t miss you with all that I am, John… Wait for me…”. Ghost stopped the recording and locked the screen as he put the phone back in Soap’s trembling hand, thumbing Soap’s tears away as he tugged Soap close as slid the mask up, kissing him slow and tenderly, savouring everything that was to be, his John Riley.

“Don’t start too many fights, I won’t be able to help bail you out…”

“I don’t start fights, I finish them” Ghost soothed as he dried the last of Soap’s tears, “… You’re so brave, Love. I’m proud of you.”

“As am I of you, Si…”

“I’ll always do what I can to make you proud, Johnny”. Ghost cupped Soaps cheek tightly, kissing him again, and Soap could tell it was for the final time. He clutched Ghost tightly, perching on his toes to hug him around the shoulders and Ghost’s arms wrapped around Soap’s middle in a vice like hold, “… Sleep in my room all you want, Love. You don’t have to ask.”. Soap chuffed weakly as he nodded, slowly settling back down on his heels as Ghost slid his mask back down. Ghost reluctantly slid Soap’s hands from his shoulders, holding them tightly as he kissed at them through his mask one last time, and turned away towards the waiting Helo. Soap watched helplessly, stood there with his arms wrapped around himself as he watched Ghost trudge up the ramp and sit on the seat against the wall. The pit crew wasted no time now that Ghost was finally on board, lifting off the ground with a shudder as they ramp began to close. Ghost’s eyes were shut tight, not daring look back at Soap, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from simply jumping off if he’d knew he’d survive the landing. For a moment there was nothing except the usual drawl of the Helo’s engines and turbines, but the other soldiers muttering in confusion by the jump door made his eyes open, looking in their direction.

“… Damn. Lil guy can move.”. Ghost squinted curiously, rising to his feet and sundered to the door, the others moving out of his way in terror, Ghost’s eyes widening at what they were talking about. Soap had sprinted over half way across the base in seconds. Soap knew the Helo’s turn path, and was making a mad dash to the edge of the base and the top of the security fence to see Ghost one last time. Ghost watched as Soap leaped up onto the back of the ute, onto the roof and across the bonnet of several trucks to the shipping containers, shaking his head with a laugh as Soap stumbled slightly with a landing but managed to keep his footing. The helo turned, Ghost now in a wide clear view for Soap as he held the rail by the jump door, Soap glancing and dug deeper into his strides. Soap leapt from a container to the edge of the security wall, catching it roughly at the chest and scrabbled to his feet, reaching up and over the edge of the fence railing towards Ghost as they swung past. Ghost reached back, both knowing there was no chance of a final touch, but it was there none the less. Ghost stared at the brunette as the distance between them quickly grew, watching Soap sink to his knees, closing his eyes and tried not to break again when he heard Soap’s anguished scream over the wind and engines.

Replace [ ] with Rudy

Alejandro : You can’t make everyone like you. You’re not [ ].

Valeria : What? Not everyone likes [ ].

Alejandro : Who doesn’t?

Valeria : Well——

Alejandro : Names, now. Give me their names.

if you search a tag on someone's blog on the mobile app it will show you only a selection of posts in an inscrutably random order but if you go to a mobile browser and type [blog url].tumblr.com/tagged/[tag] you will get all posts on that blog with that tag in reverse chronological order. if you add /chrono behind it you get them in regular chronological order. naturally this works in desktop browsers too but i know many people are mobile only these days and the app's built in tag search is shit so this knowledge is vital to your survival

Does anyone else ever think that Obi-Wan thought Ahsoka was killed during order 66?

The last time we know he saw her was before the Siege of Mandalore, when she went off to kill Maul. She was on a deadly planet with a Sith Lord, legions of Mandalorians, and a legion of clone troopers.

Year later, on Tatooine, during the Rebels series, Maul hunts down Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan would have seen this as Ahsoka failing to capture Maul, meaning that as far as he knows (in canon thus far) she was killed on Mandalore. Either defeated by Mando forces, killed by Maul, or shoot down by the clone troopers she had been raised alongside.

i know hearing people on this website love to pass around those posts with links to free sign language lessons but you know you need to actually put effort into learning about Deaf culture, too, right?

I like haunted houses in theory BUT I have no idea how to react when the actors speak to you. They ask me a question and I just… answer it…

The scariest part of a haunted house is the unscripted social interaction.

Arcane Textposts

feat. Jinx and her pretty pink eyes (part 5/?)

Does the second last one mean Thranduil or killing orcs?

LOTR Memes

LOTR + Relationship Memes

The Hobbit Memes

The Hobbit +#Relationship Memes

insp.

Solution: 7 weighted blankets

The chaos. The accurate cannon content.

Bilbo: Hello people, who don't live here.

Kili: hello.

Fili: hi there.

Bofur: what the fuck is poppin!

Dwalin: WE ARE OUT OF DORITOS

Balin: WHO HAS THE KEY

Nori: WE LOST THE KEY!

Thorin, dramatically staring in the distance: don't speak to me of loss.

Gloin, balancing some plates: WHERE THE FUCK ARE THESE SUPPOSED TO GO

Oin, throwing the plates at Gloin: I DON'T KNOW

Bombur: [confused blinking]

Dwalin: WHERE ARE THE FUCKING DORITOS

Dori: TRY LOOKING UP YOUR ASS

Bilbo, sipping his tea: hmhm.