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#angst my beloved
chimkin-samich · 9 months
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Naturally, after that, Tari didnt really pry nor press further. After all, they were still getting to know eachother and boundaries were still unclear.
2/2
Previous part <-
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ghostbsuter · 6 months
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I'm on the writing grind, you can see that I just finished rewatching the Teen Titans (2003).
Edit: Here is some art I did for Titan!Phantom
.・゜-: ✧ :-
(The end is near.)
Gripping the communicator, the bright yellow case with a cartoonish 'T' on top glared back at him.
(The portal was growing.)
He presses the button, the communicator switches on and he calls out.
"Phantom to Titans, do you hear me? Phantom to Titans."
The crackling sound came as a sign of connection, It didn't take any heavy weight off, however.
"Robin here, Phantom? Everything alright?" The soothing voice of Teen Titans leader answers him, and he suppresses a sigh.
"Robin," he bites his lip, the portal only growing.
The ghost zone is eating Amity and all just because fucking Vlad couldn't, for one ancient time, sit still.
"I—" a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he apologises with a wince. "You're gonna be really angry at me when you... find out."
Concern leaks through the voice as Robin speaks. "Phantom? What's going on?"
Thr screen on the communicator switches on and Robins brow knitted expression stares back at him.
It quickly changes, alarmed. "Phantom." The vigilante says. "Is Amity Park okay? Do you need backup?"
Always on the right track, dear leader. Danny shakes his head fondly.
"It's too late for backup," he admits quietly.
"Phan—"
"Just tell new members of me, okay?"
Danny doesn't let the other finish, giving a bitter smile before throwing the communicator on the ground, breaking it.
The familiar yet threatening green of the ghost zone welcomes him.
"Titans! Emergency call, Phantom got a situation!"
The bright red lights is enough for the rest of the team to flood to the common room.
"Rob?" Cyborg asks. "What's the situation?"
"We don't know!" The bird answers, stressed. He's pulling the audio and video recording of the call up to the monitor, replaying it for the team.
They don't figure it out until they are at Amity, landing with the jet and jumping from their seats.
Raven and Starfire fly ahead, and they all reach the border of Amity.
Or what of Amity remains.
Because–
The entire city is gone—!!
Complete annihilation.
(When robin finds out who did this, he will have words with them.)
"Robin," Raven waves them all over to her side. She's crouching, hand in a sphere of black, her magic. "Amity wasn't destroyed. It was relocated."
Her expression is grim. "Someone abducted a whole city."
All he does is nod, looking at the team before him.
"Someone call Herald, Titans, we got work to do. Our mission is to find Amity Park, Phantom, and save both." With sombre nods, they prepared for take off.
"Titans! Go!"
And they separate.
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zethsnex · 1 month
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Imagine trusting completely in someone to help you escape the place where they’re torturing 24/7 and that person ends up locked in the same cell as you.
You’d be distraught too, wouldn’t you? :)
And a bonus one cause I made some ppl cry in Citrus server(?/hj
Dw guys, they hug it out.
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murdersansy · 8 months
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Work as left me little time to draw so that's all I give right now.(I didn't finish it...)
Angst my specialty.
Have a nice day.
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patchworkorphan · 5 months
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The Hero and the Infant: part one
Is this title my cheeky little nod at EPIC the musical? Absolutely, enjoyyyyy!
*~*~*~*~*
The heroes came running when the world was on fire. They always came running. Hero was at the bar, where they always were, watching the news. A neat whiskey clutched between bandaged fingers.
The door slammed open. Hero didn’t have to turn to know it was Superhero’s sidekick. “Hero –”
“Not interested.”
“But Villain –”
“I know. Don’t care,” Hero replied. Daryl, the bartender, shot Hero a look and Hero pretended to not see it.
Sidekick sat on the stool next to Hero and ordered another: “whiskey; neat.”
“Mmm, I love being bribed,” Hero smiled, winking at Daryl.
“Villain’s destroying the city.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“And you’re here, drinking.”
“Perceptive,” Hero purred, taking the whiskey glass from Daryl and pouring the honey liquid of it into their glass. “They’re a minor,” Hero whispered to Daryl conspiratorially.
“I’m not.”
“Well, then. You’re on the clock. Can’t fight crime if you’re impaired.”
“And yet somehow you manage.”
“Somehow, I’m always called in on my day off. Blame your boss for disrupting my plans. Not the other way around, sunshine.”
Hero took a sip of their drink. In their peripheral vision they saw Sidekick turn their body to face Hero. Mmm, getting serious. Hero loved serious Sidekick. It’s like a puppy trying to be mean.
“You know Villain best –”
“Bullshit. Your Superhero knows them longest.”
“Villain likes you best,” Sidekick amended, and Hero nodded.
“So? Are we match making heroes and villains now? Is that Superhero’s excuse, hmm? Will that same explanation slide if I come up against a new villain?” Hero put on a high-pitched voice as they said: “oh I’m sorry superhero. This new villain’s rising sign is Virgo. I’m a Scorpio, we’re gonna clash.”
“This is different, and you know it.”
“How is this different? Because your beloved Superhero says so? Are you just a little dog with no mind of your own? Does Superhero whistle and you come?”
“I’m not here to trade insults, Hero. God knows that could well be your superpower,” Hero took the words as a compliment as the kid continued: “I’m here to ask you to help me stop people’s lives being ruined. Normal people’s lives. Fuck Superhero. Fuck villain. Fuck the whole fucking system. I’m here to ask you, to help me. Please.”
Hero looked at Daryl and Daryl looked at them. Hero rolled their eyes and tipped their head back, the whiskey running hot down their aching throat. Then they stood. Empty glass on the bar. Hero shrugged their trench coat on and patted Sidekick’s shoulder fondly.
“Pay Daryl for me will ya? And a big tip, for the inconvenience. See you tomorrow, Daryl,” Hero waved over their shoulder. Whistling as they walked out the door of their local pub.
“Thanks Daryl,” Sidekick said, paying the man and leaving a generous tip.
“Thank me all you want kid. Hero’ll just be back in here after the fight. It’s good to see them getting out, even if it is under these circumstances. Y’know ever since –”
“I know, Daryl. Thanks.”
“Later kid.”
Sidekick followed Hero out the door, where Hero was waiting a lit cigarette hanging from their lips.
“So,” Hero asked, flicking their zippo lighter shut with a satisfying click, shooting Sidekick their signature lazy smirk. “What’s Villain up to today?”
*~*~*~*~*
Continued here
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mrpuripurin · 1 year
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that one scene in 🪙ch 1
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greyjade00117 · 6 months
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You all remember Scar's faction choosing? Yeah, it's been stuck in my head and my coursework and deadline ridden brain can't stop thinking of angst so, here we go.
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So I can't stop thinking how p!Scar keeps saying that he let his crew sink, and also said he let his family sink during the Faction day. That's basically saying that he considered his crew as his family right???? Right?????
And he say he 'let them sink'. Like he didn't stop it. Or couldn't stop it. My brain wants to say that he is feeling guilty for being the only survivor while his crew, his family, died with the ship. And he couldn't bare the thought of making another family, only to loose them too because he couldn't stop it.
And sure, he is a great conma.... I mean, salesman, but that also means he is good with lies, so who's to say he isn't lieing about his feelings???
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dadbodbensisko-moved · 3 months
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fics where spock watches kirk fall in love with all sorts of species and genders and concludes that "no one ever wants me, it is logical to assume jim would be any different. there must be something in me that others see. i am no good. it is illogical to conclude otherwise" are my roman empire
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the-mother-of-lions · 9 months
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To Beatrice Eddie—
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kikichibee · 1 year
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friends to enemies to lo- *gunshots*
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kai0sunflower · 3 months
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Someone let Kai have the braincell and they chose violence, now it is everyone's problem
TW: Character Death, Slight Panic, Self Hatred(?) Icarus gasped as the sword pierced their body, they jerked forwards as it was yanked out of them. Centross stepped back and turned it over in his hands. "You know I didn't want to do that, Icarus. But you made me."
They fell to their knees and clutched their stomach desperately trying to stop the bleeding. "Wh.. Why?…" They coughed up blood violently.
"Don't act like you don't know. You've said it yourself, you're a failure. All you manage to do is make mistakes. I mean, you'd think you'd stumble upon the right choice at least once in your life but gods you managed to beat those odds, haven't you?" He used the tip of the blade to lift their chin so they would look at him. He smiled at them.
A sob tore itself from Icarus' throat, they couldn't speak. Their throat felt so tight it was like someone was suffocating them. They stared into his eyes, purple tendrils of corruption snaked all over his face.
"I could make it quicker. But you don't deserve that, do you?" Centross tilted his head. Icarus shook theirs. They knew they didn't. They knew they deserved a slow, painful death. He was right after all. They're just a failure. "It's okay, Icarus. You're finally helping everyone."
"..I-…" Icarus forced the word out, it was pathetic really. Pitiful even. They could barely even get their last words out.
"I'm sorry, truly. I didn't want you to hate me too, friend" Centross pushed the tip of the sword against their throat.
"I don't… hate you. You're…" Icarus swayed, their eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "still my best friend..."
Something in Centross snapped. He pulled the sword away and stepped back. "What-" He looked around, "What did I…" He looked at Icarus as they fell to the side. He dropped his sword and rushed to them but didn't dare touch them. "Ic- Icarus! Icarus, shit- shit, shit I didn't- what did I do?! I'm sorry," He carefully shook them but they didn't respond. He felt for a pulse. "Icarus?.."
Nothing.
"David?.." A quiet voice came from behind him. He turned around and saw the soul of Icarus. "It's okay," They smiled. They looked happy. Genuinely happy. "This is for the best, isn't it?"
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captianprices40thson · 8 months
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They'll be chaos on the rails when the railway strikes.
Ghost x M!reader x Soap.
Word count: 6.3k
Warnings: ANGST!!, blood, descriptions of bones breaking, icky gross torture (only a small bit) memory loss, Ghost won't stop cracking jokes, canon-typical violence.
Based on the prompt by @happylighttraveler. You can find it here: Request!
Reader uses He/him pronouns, Y/N is used to refer to the reader, second person POV.
(Oh my god!! I had so much fun writing this!! Please, request more stuff for me!)
Right! Lets get into it!!
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“What are you talking about?” “I said you’re staying here!” You and Soap were arguing about the newest mission assigned to the task force, clearly having opposing views. You knew that you weren’t the most experienced with the terrorist, but neither was Soap. In fact, none of you really had a clue what you were doing when faced with the threat that was Vladmir Makarov, apart from Price but, well…he was Price. Ever since you were injured on your last mission and had to spend a week recovering, Ghost and Soap had been extra protective of you despite your protests.
“I have just as much of a right to go as you or anyone else does.” You argued, but Soap had made it clear he wasn’t listening. He shut his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in order to stop himself from exploding. He wanted to yell, to sit you down and tell you that you were a liability to the mission, that you couldn’t handle it…but he couldn't. He loved you too much to even burden you with those thoughts, but someone else didn’t have a problem with it.
“Soap’s right. You’re staying here.” Ghost spoke up from the corner of the room that he had been hiding in. He stood in the shadows a lot, something you had gotten used to in your time knowing him. His arms crossed over his chest and his eyes showed no emotion, as they always did. It had been hard learning to read Ghost, hell, you still couldn’t properly distinguish from mild anger and mild disgust.
“Riley-” Your protest was cut off by him holding up his hand, instinctually shutting your mouth at his motion. You knew better than to argue with your superior, it still angered you though. Your face scrunched up in disapproval, but you kept your yap shut tight in case you said anything you regretted.
“Y/N, It’s too risky for you to go. Your leg hasn’t fully healed yet and we have no idea how it’ll react to the environment. Price has already taken you off of the assignment. You’re staying here and leading us through behind the monitor. Is that clear?” Ghost stated, walking over to where you and Soap were standing, his steps were small compared to his usual stride, but that was probably because the room was so small. The two men were standing in a line in front of you, like a triangle was formed and you were the point. 
Neither Ghost nor Soap wanted to do this to you, they knew how much you enjoyed the missions you went on with them, but they loved you too much to wager your safety in an unfamiliar environment. Ghost wasn’t afraid to use his position to threaten you and Soap didn’t mind backing Ghost up on that. The Scotsman was a bit more hesitant to be mean to you than the Brit, but it didn’t matter. You were staying here and that was final.
After fighting yourself internally, you clenched your fists and looked down, giving a small nod. You knew that they were just trying to protect you, but you still hated it. You weren’t a child in need of protection, you were an adult that could handle yourself, but you couldn't risk being court marshalled…again.
“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” Ghost added on, brushing his shoulder up against Soap’s in order to tell him it was time to go in a non verbal matter. Soap nodded and took one better look at you, before following Ghost out of the room, leaving you there alone. There were a million thoughts rushing through your head, none that you could quite pinpoint. There was sadness, anger, betrayal, understanding…and fear. Fear that without you, your team wouldn’t make it back. Or maybe, they’d do everything without you and you’d be left alone without them.
You couldn’t quite understand what you were feeling…but you were hurt.
So when a week or so later, when the team had left and arrived at their destination, you couldn't help but groan and lay your head on the table as you heard their chatter over the radio.
“Y/N, do you have us going?” Price’s voice cackled in over the radio and you looked up at the monitors. You had the amazing view of Ghost’s chest cam that was half-obscured by the snow falling everywhere. You gathered yourself and responded, looking over at the radio you had on your desk. It was a clever thing, you didn’t need to press a button to communicate, it just picked up any noise from your end and put it through to their walkie talkies without you having to even move.
“I’ve got you, Captain.” You responded, trying to make your voice sound less tired and annoyed than you were. You could see Soap walk in front of Ghost’s camera and give a little wave, knowing you were there and trying to cheer you up. You couldn’t help but grin, seeing his stupid smile that he wore proudly. But now was no time for smiles, because you knew they had a very important mission at hand. Finding and taking down Vladmir Makarov. It was a capture or kill mission, so everyone was a little nervous. You could see Gaz do a little jig and adjust his hat as he walked alongside Price, kicking the thick snow on the ground in order to move. For a moment, you were grateful you weren’t there and wouldn’t have to deal with the hassle that is thick snow.
But that moment passed and you realised you wished to be with them. You were alone in the base, the silence was painful. You were always used to hearing a scream from Soap that somehow always had something to do with Scotland, or Gaz and Price acting like a father and son. Ghost was always quiet, but you always knew that he was there. You were the guys, a team, a squad!…and now it was just one of you.
Watching as the team made their way into the base, you made sure to check over the detailed map of the area, letting them know when to turn and when to check for guards and other enemies. It was halfway into the mission where you felt a sense of unease in your stomach, like something was off.
“Y/N, are you still with us?” You heard Soap’s voice over the radio and brought yourself back to reality. You still couldn’t shake off that feeling that something was wrong…very wrong.
“I’m here. Is everything alright over there?” You asked, your voice unsure and trembling. You could only hope that everything was okay on their end and that it was all in your head, but even with Gaz’s reassurance that they were all fine on their end, something was wrong…very wrong.
“We’re breaching his office now, this ends here.” Price announced to you and the rest of the task force, his thick British accent making him sound more confident in himself than he actually was at the moment.  You spun around in your chair, looking over the room you were in as clearly, they did not need you anymore. You looked up at the security camera in the corner, thinking to yourself. That’s probably what was wrong, they had been meaning to change the batteries in the cameras, even from there you could see the light flickering and trying it’s best to continue working. In a way, kind of like yourself.
“Y/N, we’ve got a problem.” Price’s voice called out and you turned around to see the monitor on your screen. They were all standing in an office type area, the one that had been marked to be Makarov’s office. Confusion took over you as you realised why Price had a problem.
“Where’s Makarov?” You asked, raising the question that everyone else had been thinking. You watched Ghost move around the room, along with everyone else. Price and Gaz had left the room in order to go search the halls, which was probably a stupid idea to split off from the soldier who was carrying the only man who knew the instructions around the place, but they did it anyway.
“Y/N, can you look back through your feed? Can you see if we missed something?” Soap asked, his Scottish accent making his words a bit hard to understand to the average person, but handing around the man so often, you had learned how to understand his jibber-jabber. You moved the mouse over to the side of your video, trying to see if that was something you could do. Still, the feeling of unease was there and bigger than ever. It felt like someone was right behind him ready to kill him, that’s how bad it was.
“I honestly don’t know how to do that. I-I’d have to end the recording on the tape, so I wouldn’t be able to see you guys. I don’t think I can help you guys here. Could you go get P-” Your speech was cut off by a slam against your head, sending you to the floor and off your chair. You hit the floor with a thud, yelling out of instinct. Your vision was blurry, but you still managed to look up and make out the figure looming over you.
Makarov.
You tried to get up or even just move away, but a boot slammed down to your chest prevented you from moving. You heard the cracks of several ribs breaking, blood collecting in your throat as the pain coursed through your body. You yelled out in pain, but were quickly stopped by him placing a rag of sorts against your mouth. Your tear-filled eyes cleared and you could see his face just a couple inches away from yours, his heterochromic eyes staring into yours. You could see several more soldiers surrounding you two and you realised you were completely and utterly screwed.
“Jesus…these are the people that Price is working with. You were so easy to sneak up on, honestly.” Makarov commented, moving his foot that wasn’t on your chest to your right wrist, pressing down on it hard so that you would be in too much pain to even try and make a move with your left. Your heart stopped as you realised that this man was an actual terrorist and you were in actual trouble. You shivered as he bent down, grabbing your chin and inspecting you like you were a brand new toy that he was to play with.
“I can work with this.” He smiled, before moving his hand to the back of your head. He moved his boots off of your chest and wrist and you breathed a sigh of relief, before he raised your head and slammed it into the floor. You let out a cry of pain that was only mildly muffled by the rag as you felt your nose break, before Makarov took a step backwards and slammed his foot down on your neck, causing your voice to be temporarily restricted and your breathing to become a difficult task..
You could hear Soap and Ghost’s yells over the radio as they heard you being attacked, which filled you with a bit of hope…before Makarov hissed something in Russian that you couldn’t quite make out and the man closest to the two of you took the radio and slammed it on the floor, stomping his foot on it for good measure. You watched the pieces scatter, some of it landing close to you and cutting your skin. You would cry…but you could feel Makarov’s grip on your head get tighter and the thought of him slamming your head into the cold concrete floor again wouldn’t end well for you.
You could only watch as the blood from your injuries created a pool under you, some of it coming from your chest, others from the cuts on your arm or the blood pooling from your head injury. You could feel your breathing get shallower and your eyes close as the realm of unconsciousness took you into its surprisingly warm arms. You could swear that you were dying, that this was it…this was how you died.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Soap and Ghost were freaking out as their only connection to you was cut off unexpectedly and they were pretty sure you were dead. They looked over to one another, Soap with tears in his eyes, Ghost with his own being wider than anyone had ever seen them before.
“Price! Gaz! D-Did you-” Soap called out to the duo, before the two rushed back into the room, both with frantic looks on their faces. The rest of the team had seen this look on Price before…it was the look of pure fear and panic.
“We heard. It was Makarov. He’s not here. He’s there and I’m pretty sure he…he just killed Y/N. We have to go now.” Price ordered, looking over at the group of frightened men in front of him. He had to shut off his emotions in that moment in order to remain strong and lead the team, but his team couldn’t do the same. He could see the pure fear in their faces that they hadn’t seen in their darkest moments. Ghost carefully placed his hand on Soap’s shoulder, trying to be the stronger one out of the two. He gave a nod to Price, who nodded back and turned so he could lead the group out of there.
It was harder to leave without your help, meaning they ran into a few more enemies and a few more bullets no longer lay in their magazines. Soap’s head was rushing with thoughts, tears streaming down his face blurring his vision. He had Ghost’s hand on his shoulder to guide him as they ran through the thick snow. Even when they loaded into the emergency helicopter, he had Ghost to help him in and hold his shoulder tight..
Getting back to base was scary and they all tried to prepare themselves for the worst. They didn’t know what they were going to find when they got back. Soap was utterly terrified that you were dead and when they entered the room they’d find Makarov standing over your dead body, but then again it was a long while till they’d be back and he doubted Makarov would stay just to see their reactions…but his brain couldn’t be convinced that whatever would happen would be otherwise.
Meanwhile, Ghost couldn’t help but blame himself. It was his idea for you to stay behind in the first place. He was the one that convinced Price and the rest of the team that you were in no condition to fight…and they had all agreed. He was to blame. He was the one that let Makarov find and murder you…this was his fault.
“We’ll be back in a couple hours, I’ve notified Laswell and told her to get the closest possible people to rush over to our base and figure out the situation. I’m sorry for leading you guys into a dead end.” Price told the base, shutting the door that separated the pilot from the rest of the crew. He strutted to the back of the helicopter, where everyone was sitting. Ghost and Soap next to each other, Gaz sitting with his head down opposite them. Price sat down next to Gaz and put his hand on his shoulder as a father would.
“It’s not your fault, Price. You couldn’t have known, none of us would’ve. We were told he was there, everyone thought he was.” Ghost responded, keeping it together a bit better than Soap was. Inside, he was screaming. He was screaming because you might be dead. He heard the slams, the screams, the unmistakable sound of bones breaking…if you didn’t die from that then you’d die from not getting medical attention.
“I know but…we’ll figure out what happened when we get back.” Price ended the conversation, not wanting to focus on the fact that he had been misled and had put not only you, but his team in danger. He felt like a failure of a captain, unable to even keep his team alive and safe for a minute.
When they arrived back at base, they basically rushed in. The other team that was close by and able, The Rat’s Nest, was already at the scene. Their leader, Captain Darryl ‘Aragon’ Wilson, was there and ready to walk Price and the rest of the team through the scene.
“We ran in here, the windows were broken and the doors had their locks taken off. But…we couldn’t find either of the men Laswell had described. We only found…” Darryl trailed off as they entered the room you were previously working in, letting it speak for itself. 
There was blood on the floor, so much blood. The chair you were sitting on was laying on the floor in the corner, clearly having taken a hit or two. They could see the smashed radio on the floor, some of the blood that was presumably yours had surrounded the outsides of it, making Soap cringe out of disgust and distaste. There was a short blood trail that looked like somebody had been dragged in the liquid all the way to the door, before it stopped. Ghost looked over in the corner to see the security camera, its light no longer blinking.
“Have we checked the camera?” He asked, his thick British accent hiding the desperation trying to claw out of it. He was terrified, they all were. Darryl looked over into the corner, shaking his head. He crossed his arms, looking down at Ghost from where he was standing.
“We just assumed it was dead and wouldn’t have anything useful. Do you reckon it’s worth checking?” He asked, crossing his arms, his face showing interest and curiosity. Soap nodded, turning over to the two Captains who were blocking a concerned Gaz from the Scot’s vision.
“It's worth a shot.” Soap confirmed what the nod meant, hoping his thick scottish accent covered his shaky voice, but he knew it didn't. Ghost looked over to Soap, knowing he was scared. Who wouldn’t be? This was the man they loved who had been possibly murdered by the man they hated and feared most in the world.
When the usb was placed into the projector, fast forwarded to a couple hours earlier and pressed play, the team hitched their breath as they watched the scene. They watched you spin around in your chair, begin talking to Soap and Ghost before being slammed in the head by a very aggressive Makarov that had snuck in through the door on the side of the room.
The recording cut off with you on the ground, bleeding and still. And when they played it over and over for some sense of closure that you were alright…it was the same every time. You, on the floor, not moving, not even breathing. Soap could feel the tears in his eyes as he and everyone else in the squad realised what had happened.
Makarov had murdered you
And there was nothing they could do about it other than hunt the bastard down and murder him in the name of you.
1868 days, not that they were counting or anything.
Who were they kidding…they were counting. Every single day without you was agony for every single one of them, but it was especially hard on Ghost and Soap. Price and Gaz had noticed how much they missed you, it impacted their performance and Soap had to even be sent home after punching a recruit that mentioned you. Ghost took leave to stay with Soap, not wanting the man he loved to be alone to grieve the man they lost. Every single time a new mission was announced and assigned to them, they begged it to be going after Makarov. Hell, the whole team wanted it to be going after Makarov, you were important to all of them.
“What’s this?” Ghost asked, looking down at the file that Price had placed down in their briefing room. Price had a smile on his face, meaning only one thing. The captain took a moment before explaining the mission.
“One of Makarov’s allies, Konrad Geilen, was tracked down to an abandoned trading base in the south of Germany, just west of Schwarzwald. We believe that he’s got some pretty good ideas on where Makarov is hiding out. Therefore, if we find Konrad…”
“We find Makarov.” Soap finished Price’s sentence for him. Price gave him a smile and a finger gun, indicating that he was correct. The amount of relief that flowed through the other three members of the task force was bigger than any wave on earth. They had waited too long to get revenge for you, and now was their opportunity to do what they had been waiting for.
“When do we head out?” Gaz asked, ready to get this show on the road.
“What time is it now?” Price responded and the rest of the Task Force grinned like teenage girls that had just been looked at by their crush. Even Ghost, although you couldn’t see it from behind the mask.
“I have a mission for you.” 
Two days earlier, Makarov had walked into your room and explained what he wanted you to do. See, in the three years that you had been taken hostage by the man…everything had changed. The days he spent torturing you for information turned into weeks, then months. Then after you broke into a shell of a man you once were, Makarov used it to his advantage and took the opportunity to create you into the perfect soldier, something the 141 would never see coming.
“I’ve just put out a fake, a diversion by the name of Konrad Gielien. He’s an old friend of mine named Henning Mesyats that owes me a favour or two. He’s been set out as…bait for Price and his men to take. And that’s where you come in.” Makarov explained, walking over to you and sitting next to you on his designated chair. You took in his words, nodding and taking the information in. Stuff was a bit hard for you to remember, mainly because of all the memories wiped from your mind but there was probably another reason that you believed in.
“Your job is to find Price and the 141 and whilst they’re distracted by moy khoroshiy drug Henning, you murder each and every one of them. Don’t stop until their bodies are mangled and unrecognisable…got it?” Makarov continued, looking at you when he was done explaining to make sure you understood. When you gave him a nod back, he smiled and patted your shoulder, getting up and walking to the door.
“Tomorrow…you leave tomorrow morning to make sure you get there before them.” He instructed, knowing you wouldn’t sleep in, that’s not how he made you. That’s not how he designed you, sleeping in or doing anything remotely human was…unheard of from you. He hated to admit it, but at times even Makarov himself found it a bit weird. He understood that he had done this to you, deprived you of yourself, your personality, even your name and had turned you into some kind of…dog for him to own, yet it still bothered him a bit.
“Alright, Gaz and I’ll go round the back. Soap and Ghost, take the front. We’ll meet up on the rooftop after clearing the building and finding Konrad or if we are unable to locate him. Remember, this is a capture mission.” Price instructed as they left the helicopter, watching it retreat back to its home of the air after they had given the signal to the pilot.
“Remind me of what he looks like again? Don’t want to capture a random soldier and confuse him for a friend of Makarov’s.” Soap asked, before being elbowed in the stomach by Ghost who couldn’t be bothered to even look at him. He clutched his chest, giving the Brit a ‘what was that?’ look. Ghost didn’t look back at him, keeping eye contact with Price.
“Soap…he’s the only guy there. This building is abandoned, he’s using it as a hideout. If there is someone else there, you’ll know it isn't him…also I told you what he looked like.” Price reminded him, an exasperated expression on his face. Ghost smiled under the mask and Soap now knew why he was so brutally elbowed.
“Don’t forget why we’re here…this is for Y/N.” Gaz reminded them all and they all serioused up. Gaz was right…this mission was about getting revenge for the man that not only were they all teammates with, but the man Gaz knew like a brother, Price had a bond with like a son and the man Ghost and Soap loved. The whole squad nodded and began making their way through the rough terrain and over to the outsides of the abandoned building. Soap and Ghost watched Price and Gaz make their way to the other side of the building. They gave each other a look and walked inside, guns at the ready.
“See anyone, Lt?” Soap asked as they made their way through, checking through the different rooms and occasionally having to lift up their guns whenever they saw movement or a shadow, but it was either their own shadow or a rat that had gotten accustomed to living there.
“No, just a bunch of really outdated guns and a stupid amount of blankets. Speaking of, why did the soldier bring a blanket into an active battle zone?” Ghost asked and Soap sighed as he realised Ghost was making another dad joke. His refusal to reply just meant Ghost finished it on his own.
“Because he needed cover.” Ghost joked and Soap backed out into the hallway where they were standing. He gave his lieutenant a disapproving look, watching as his eyes crinkled from the smile behind his mask.
“Seriously, Ghost. If I was your superior, I’d have court marshalled you by now.” Soap groaned as they walked forward. Just as Ghost was about to make another remark that would probably make Soap want to shoot him, they both heard the sounds of boots hitting the floor. Someone was running…and they both knew it wasn’t Price or Gaz.
The two ran out to the main area and out of the hall, into the main storage area and the duo could see how big it actually was. The roof must have been as tall as fifteen Ghost’s stacked on top of eachother, which is a really funny image if you think about it long enough. They both followed the footsteps to a figure running on a walkway that they could get to by accessing some stairs. Ghost nodded to Soap, who nodded back and practically bolted up those stairs, desperate to get to the person.
As Soap ran, Ghost took the other stairs in order to corner the man they saw sprinting. He pushed himself up and made his way around the corner, so now that they were all on the railings up above. Their eyes followed the figure, both rushing after him. They chased after him and fired a few bullets that he seemed to dodge effortlessly, before watching him run around the corner. Soap ran forward and around the corner to get to the man. Ghost waited outside the corner, gun at the ready incase the man managed to get by Soap.
He waited there for a moment, before hearing a yelp from Soap, his eyes widened as he figured out what that meant. It didn’t sound like he was in pain, more like he was shocked at something. Ghost shook his head and moved around the corner, being met with a sight that took a few moments to process.
Soap was on the floor, a gun pointed at his face being held by the man they were chasing. The man had placed a boot on Soap’s right hand and another on his left leg, the Scott’s gun laying on the floor a few feet away. Ghost’s eyes trailed up to the man pointing a gun at the man he loved, lifting up his own weapon in order to put a bullet through his shoulder and take him down without murdering him…but he stopped once he recognised who it was…
“Y/N?” He whispered, lowering the gun in realisation. Your head turned to him, still keeping your gun pointed at Soap’s head, your finger resting on the trigger. You studied Ghost’s mask, trying to figure out what he was going on about. Of course, you didn’t recognise who Y/N was…that wasn’t you anymore.
“You take one step further and your friend with the shitty haircut gets it.” You spat, pushing your gun further to Soap’s temple. They were both in shock, the man they had loved and had believed to be dead for five years…was right in front of them, brainwashed to not remember who he was or what he was…he was like some kind of winter soldier…with a weird russian accent.
“Y/N, stop. W-What…what happened to you?” Ghost whispered, placing his hands in the air. The shock was getting to him, the idea that you were ALIVE all this time and didn’t recognise neither him nor Soap…that hurt him deeper than anything anyone in his childhood could have done. When he saw you rest your finger against the trigger, he called out once more.
“Stop! My hands are in the air! I-I…What the fuck happened, Y/N?” Ghost exclaimed, his heart tearing in half and his British accent coming out stronger than he had intended. He couldn't even form a proper sentence without letting everyone that could hear him know he was going through something…something huge.
Meanwhile Soap was going through a crisis of his own, having the man he loved and had mourned for over FIVE YEARS pointing a gun right at his head and not even showing the slightest bit of hesitation at pulling the trigger. It was like he was a completely new person
And he probably was.
“You are going to listen to me, Ghost. You are going to close the door and place any and all guns or weapons you have on the floor…if you want to do it the easy way. The hard way is…much more uncivilised.” You told Ghost, your eyes staying on his. He felt a pang in his heart when you called him Ghost, because he was never Ghost to you. To you, he was Riley and on the odd occasion, Simon. But never Ghost.
Ghost looked down at Soap, both their eyes as wide as the others. Soap didn’t nod or shake his head at what he thought Ghost should do, it was up to the Brit to work it out. 
After a moment of contemplation, he slowly kneeled and placed all his weapons on the floor, maintaining eye contact with you the whole time. Your eyes never left his, meaning that your peripheral vision was smaller…and you didn’t see the signal Ghost had motioned to Soap.
Kicks to the balls hurt, everyone knew that, and despite you being a brainwashed robot, Soap wasn’t going to do that to you. Instead, with his leg that you had left free, he chose to lift up and kick you in the knee, causing you to recoil back a bit, lifting your foot off of his hand, meaning he could grab the gun Ghost had pushed towards him.
So, it was you backed into a corner by the two men, both of whom holding guns and calling you by a name that triggered something in your brain. It felt familiar to you…yet so foreign at the same time. What was happening?
You didn’t have time for feelings right now, you told yourself, getting right back to the task at hand and pulling out your gun strapped to your thigh. You wasted no time in pulling it back and pressing the trigger, just narrowly missing Ghost’s shoulder. No…this wasn’t you. You never missed, never in your five years of shooting had you missed. What were they doing to you?
“That was a warning shot.” You hissed, trying to intimidate the two men from the position you were in. They both looked like they were going through the five stages of grief at the moment, it wasn’t hard to make them scared. The one with the skull, Ghost as you had been told to call him, was harder to read, his face hidden by the mask on his face.
“Y/N…What happened to you? How are you alive? W-Why are you fighting us?” The shorter one with the mohawk, Soap as he had been classified, stepped forward, gun pointing to your face. You moved your hand to go shoot him, but the bullet hitting the wall right behind your gun told you to stop.
“Who the fuck is Y/N?” You hissed, ready to tear off their limbs if they didn’t give you an answer, although you were going to do that anyways once you had them in a position similar to yours. They kept referring to you by that name…the one that inflicted such a strong emotion in you.
“Y…You’re Y/N. Don't you remember that…remember us?” Soap asked, walking closer. You could see the tears in his eyes, the look of pure despair on his face. He looked like everything he loved had been ripped out of his arms and been forced to watch die infront of him ten times over, and as far as the Scot knew, it had.
“No. I have no relation to either of you men, the only reason I would ever remember you two is seeing your faces on my wall of soldiers I’ve murdered.” You spat back, getting defensive. You couldn’t figure out why, but something in you told you that Soap was onto something.
You looked over towards Ghost, trying to scan him for any weak points, but his gun was still trained on your own and you decided it was best to not go for him at the moment. You quickly focused on both of them, trying to find your objective and directive.
That's when you were hit with something, nothing physical…but something about the situation and positions you were in had triggered something in you.
“Is that clear?” A voice spoke, it was blurry and distorted, but you knew deep down that you knew it. You moved your head, where were you? Everything was blurry, but there were two people in front of you. Their faces, whilst familiar, were blurred out, most everything was.
You looked down and clenched your fist, but it wasn’t you the one moving. You knew it was you…but this was a different version of you. You watched yourself nod, and the figures shuffled a bit.
“Good…now come on, Johnny. Price called us into the meeting room five minutes ago. I don't want to anger that man by making him wait any longer. Y/N…don’t get yourself into any trouble.” The taller figure spoke once more, that name reaching deep into your soul and finding something in you. Y/N…that was your name. You were Y/N. Those men in front of you…Soap and Ghost. N-No…Johnny and Riley. Your Johnny and your Riley…your boyfriends.
“Y/N?” The Scotsman's voice brought you back to reality, but you had changed. It had all rushed back to you, everything about you, what and who you had been, who you had loved…everything was back now. They both took small steps towards you, watching as you lowered your gun and looked up to the both of them with tears in your eyes. 
“Y/N…Are you…?” Soap asked, walking towards you. He noticed that you were no longer hostile, and instead were going through seven stages of grief yourself. That's how much distress you were in, there were now seven stages of grief just for you.
“I-I’m here…I’m alive and I’m back. I-I…oh god…what the fuck have I done?” You whispered, breaking down right then and there. The torture, the murder, everything you had been through the last five years; it was all coming back to you.
“Hey, hey we’re here and we’ve got you, alright?” The scotsman assured you, placing a gloved hand on your face and holding you close to him. Tears started to stream down his own face as he held you close. It wasn’t a moment later before you felt the weight of a 6’4 brit holding both of you close to him.
It was a nice moment, and you all wanted it to last forever, but that isn’t how life worked, because not long after the hug began, it ended just as quickly by Price contacting both the boys via radio.
“Ghost, Soap, we’ve got Konrad out the front. Where are you both?” His thick-accented voice came in through the radio, and not even words could describe how nice it was to hear it again. You looked up at the men you loved, tears still streaming down your face. Soap smiled and kissed your forehead, for both him and Ghost seeing as the taller male was unable to.
“We’re taking you home…alright?” Soap whispered and you nodded, holding him tight. Ghost smiled under the mask and held his radio in order to report back to Price.
“We’re solid, just in a room near the top, we’ll head over to you ASAP…and we’ve got a surprise for you both.”
(Soooooo how we feeling!??!?!) Honestly, such a great time writing this, and if you want to request something yourself, here's your place to see what I do! (anyone who got the fact that Daryll was a reference to DNDADS, I love you.) Take care, everyone!
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zethsnex · 30 days
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:)
Next>>
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suremango · 1 month
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Fuck it
ungills your gillion
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berrythefish · 1 year
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Happy Valentine’s Day!!❤❤
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whiskyarts · 9 months
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I'm sure your friends will show up this time.
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