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ghouljams · 8 months

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I need more ghost ghost

Like their dynamic and how it evolves. Do they eventually reach an understand does ghost ever move on and let go😭 does he get jealous if she has friends over

Please I'm feral for the spooky idea even crumbs would satisfy me

Any day now, he'll get bored.

You keep telling yourself that, but it hasn't happened yet. Your ghost just seems to be settling in to his roll as household haunting. If anything you're getting too used to him. You're used to the cold watched feeling when you lay in bed at night. You're used to the handprints in fogged glass after your shower. You're used to putting things down and having them disappear. Hell you're even used to the rasping whispers that sometimes fill the air when you're not listening.

You're really not that interesting. If you were a ghost you would've moved on by now. You certainly wouldn't be haunting some barely liveable house or bothering the only person stupid enough to try restoring it.

You set a mug of tea on your ghost's little corner altar and drag a chair to sit down in front of it. He likes black tea, English breakfast or Earl Grey, splash of milk and a dash of sugar. You know the order well enough by now, all the ingredients he'd previously tipped over to make a mess of your kitchen. "I'm thinking of tackling the bathroom today, got the tile in so-" you reach down to tug a square of green tile out of the bag at your feet, "-I gotta start ripping up the old stuff." The tea on Ghost's altar bubbles in annoyance. "Don't get fussy you helped pick the new tile, remember?"

A single bubble pops on the tea's surface. A dismissive yes. Good enough for you.

"Be a lot easier if you didn't go scaring off the contractors," you grumble. The air is still for a long moment as you sip your morning tea. You feel a little silly staring at a mug of tea and waiting for it to talk to you. One bubble for yes, two for no, not a perfect system but working well enough so far.

You reach to tap the rim of the mug, see if the metaphorical mic is still on, and notice its been drained. Then all the hair on the back of your neck stands on end, the air around you dropping degrees by the breath.

"Can't trust them," his voice, so low and rumbling, fills the space beside your ear. Your stomach drops, and you have to stop yourself from reaching back to brush the sensation away. Fuck he's gotten chatty recently.

"You just don't like them," you keep your eyes on his altar, "you just gotta get to know them, I mean, you didn't like me when I first moved in!"

"Still," there's a long breath, a rasping wheeze that sounds painful, sometimes you wonder if it has to do with how your ghost died, "don't."

You gasp, standing from your chair and feeling whatever ghostly hold was talking to you dissipate. "See if I make you any more tea," you tell him. You will, obviously, but you try to make the threat sound sincere. He doesn't need to know that you don't mean it. After all what's a dead man going to do to you?

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost!au #ghost!ghost #sarcasm doesnt really translate well through the death intercom #u ever fall in love with a ghost?#any of you ever seen a ghost? i have

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c3berus · 4 months

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it wasn’t real. he never really cared for you. god, did it hurt to hear but it was the truth. your ‘boyfriend’ had been using you for months, you didn’t want to believe it. but one look into his ice dulled eyes and you knew he was serious. he had told you what his purpose was in your life, his ultimate goal. he was assigned to bait you in, catch you on a hook and reel you out. and that he did..

“your eyes..they can be so cruel” you croaked out, words sounding like they cut your tounge on the way out your mouth. you shook your head in silent denial. “so this was your plan the entire time ‘ey? infiltrate from the inside? a classic.”

“Its just business, thought you’d understand” he shrugged carelessly. you scoffed, betrayal settling deep within you.

you nodded, a bitter smile overtaking your face, a pained one. you hated to admit it but, you loved him. you are in love with him, but one of you weren’t going to walk away tonight, you knew it.

your thoughts were finalized with the sound of his gun being set on you. your eyes met his once again surprisingly, he had collected a few tears. “‘M sorry, i really, really am b-“

“i gave you everything i had..” you interrupted him, anger starting to seep through you. in one quick breath, you had your gun planted dead between his eyes. easy kill. “should’ve known it was to good to be tru- no, i shouldve acted on my suspicions sooner” confusion and shock painted johnny’s face. your pained smile became one of ease.

“what?..” he whispered.

“I figured your plan a good few months back, had some necks stepped on, some information spilled and soon i knew exactly who you were, well- work for” you spoke nodding your head to his not-very-well-hidden tags. he fixed his holding on his gun, finger resting on the trigger.

“you knew, and you still did nothing to prevent this? w-why..” ‘soap’ asked.

“because this was inevitable, either way, we’d be here” you laughed, gesturing around you two. Johnny grew tense.

“you’ve been lying to me for months” he barked at you. you wanted to croak out the loudest laugh you could manage. you have been lying? god, he’s pathetic.

“no…you dont get to feel betrayed, wasnt that your plan anyway? your pathetic, really” you muttered to him. seemingly growing sick of his own anger, he tightened his hold of his gun.

“you have to die, i have to kill you” he glared, tears brimming his waterline. you exhaled shakily, thinking about what you wanted to say next.

“do as you wish, but i know the truth about you johnny. the truth that you wont ever go and report to your forcemates” you spoke, putting your gun down and leaving yourself vulnerable.

“you know nothing, shut up”

but you do..

“but i do, i know that you couldve killed me way before all of this. i know that no matter how much you deny it, you are and will forever be in love with me. there some things you just cant deny even to yourself johnny.” he slowly started to shake his head no, trying to block your words out for his heart.

“shut up” he muttered.

“i know that once you finish the job youll go back to them— shut. up. — and youll pretend that your heart isnt heavy, that you — stop talking. —felt nothing, that this was just another day in the workplace” you laughed bitterly ignoring his words. “and i know, that your feelings were real at a point, because if i know anything about you johnny, its that you’re a lot of things, but an emotionless man?..you’re not that.”

“SHUT UP, STOP TALKING, IM GOING TO KILL YOU” he wailed, panicking, taking multiple steps towards you until his gun rested right in between your eyebrows.

“there it is.. you’re realizing that im right arent you, that at least one of us can be truthful? right?” you were gambling with a life you’d already been set to lose. time to take the final dice roll. “say it, say you never loved me..that everything you’ve ever told me was scripted”

silence..

“say it”

“i-“

BANG!

a gun sounded off, but it wasn’t johnny’s at all..blood shot out your mouth, coating johnny’s face. before he could fully comprehend what happened, a voice cut through his ringing ears.

“target kia” ghost spoke into his comms approaching him as your body fell. “lets go, the jobs done, good work keeping him distracted” ghost finished patting his shoulder before walking off.

as ghost rounded the corner, into another room johnny supposed, two tears fell. one not belonging to the same person. blinking away the tears that threatened to break him, soap hurriedly ripped your dog tags off. he quickly pulled them onto him self, before taking one last look at you, heart shattering.

a tear, a tear had treailed down your face. upon further inspection, he looked down at your discarded gun, it had been emptied. he realized two things, that you were never going to kill him at all, and that you were in fact right.

johnny’s heart was heavy. johnny felt everything. and today wasn’t a regular day in the workplace, he had lost the love of his life. and he would never forgive himself for it. finally managing to drag him self out of the room, away from you, he felt as if the whole world had gone silent. from that day on, johnny swore to keep living, not because of you, but for you..

because the truth was..

johnny wasn’t an emotionless man, but man who wanted another so desperately that he swore to himself that they would meet in another lifetime.

THEEEEEE END, did we like the angst? anyone want and alternative ending? - s.

#cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #ghost mw2 #big boy #i love you #141 headcanons #ghost cod #john price #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap call of duty #top male reader #angst #sad ending #tw death

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shortnotsweet · 6 months

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In a Week by Hozier ft. Karen Cowley

“The raven is death, obviously. When I die, I want a good tombstone—something right spooky. LT’s got something against the underground, though you’d think that would be just his kind of place. That’s alright. He needs to, he can cremate me. It’s not exactly Catholic, and Mam would turn in her grave, but God is a unicorn and no one is pure anymore, so. What’s all that got to do with me?”

Johnny “Soap” McTavish has a journal. Had. It is his no longer.

Simon “Ghost” Riley had dreams—awful ones, the kind that sank claws into his lungs, dragged him into sleep, and then sent him careening out of it. He still has dreams, but they’re different, now. Better. Johnny’s pages have folded themselves under his eyes and gotten into his head, brighter and more infectious than anything else has ever been. It’s more than the past, that rotting carcass behind him, and more than now. Now is nothing. Now is ash. It’s like, it’s like—blinding, is what it is. He’s a blind man.

It is biblical now. Ghost has read it backward and forward and sideways and inside out. When he runs out of things to read, he reads them again, and when that is not enough, he reads between the lines.

#ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #soap x ghost #ghoap #call of duty #cod mw3 #my art #ghost is obsessed with soaps journal bc it breaks his heart at first like really tears it apart but soon focuses on what soap has written #about him. words of admiration and envy and love and fondness. real fondness. jokes made for him thoughts about him musings etc.#and johnnys snippets about his family and how he wants to settle down eventually #then all simon can think about is what life they could’ve lived together after the ‘war’#nevermind that there will always be war be death be blood and love is there and it matters but it changes nothing #for simon there will always be johnny #who even knows if thats what soap wanted if he loved him back if ghost even remembers him as he was instead of what he wishes he could have #become to ghost if things had gone as they should. who knows. the dead dont sing dont speak. all thats left is what they wrote #the cigarettes refer to soaps smoking habit and how ghost disapproves like a nagging wife. the ash smudges and burns in the paper allude to #ghost deciding to have soap cremated as a spouse decides post mortem due to his own aversion to being underground bc he doesn’t want soap #to be nothing but a decomposing body. he couldn’t bear that. he couldn’t bury him alive or dead so burning it is

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miilkybnn · 1 year

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just some ghostroach domesticity :^}

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #ghost x roach #ghostroach #milky art #my art #they're in love your honor #cod fanart #roach can definitely beat ghost #its true because i say so #homie has escaped one too many near death experience and u think hes not gonna have a trick up his sleeve when sparring???#anyways #domestic fluff #bug and boo

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asykriel · 2 months

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Quick doodle of my ASOIAF oc, Maegor II and the Cannibal, from the upcoming chapter of my fic. 🐺❄️

You can read Love is the Death of Duty, centered around him and Aemond, on AO3 and Wattpad

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random0lover · 1 year

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Siren!reader x deaf!141 member

(Mini idea in tags)

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rhaenyraslaena · 8 months

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Duty is the Death of Love Chapter X

Dreams of Summer

Available Here: ao3

“It is not your fault that these men choose to be vile nor do you have the power to put them into their places.”

There exists very little certainty in Eulalia for her ability to soothe over the depths of the guilt that are burrowed deep within Baldwin –merely a teen with the entirety of a kingdom on his shoulders and the threat of a fatal illness that shadows each and every step.

“Two years. Two years and then you are able to take full power.” Her whispers are of gentle reassurance pressing against his skin, her fingers ever lightly pulling through the pale gold of his hair and with particular fondness for the curls that tease the tops of his shoulders.

“It will be much better when we are wed next year.” A mutter of admittance just beneath his breath and his glimmering azure bright eyes fluttering closed with the comfort of the stroking of his hair – a moment none too complicated, with only the two of them widen the gardens . . . But a moment of paradise. “I can wait for the age of my majority. . . But our marriage cannot arrive soon enough.”

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #koh fanfiction #baldwin iv #baldwin iv of jerusalem #baldwin iv x oc #king baldwin iv x oc #king baldwin iv #penned by khadija #fic: duty is the death of love #so i looked at the feedback we got and so we get scenes of sixteen year old baldwin and eulalia !!#congratulations this also tore my heart out to write !!#also because this is the first ever chapter of a fanfic where i reached double digit. chapters i put in more eulalia x baldwin #i just wanna shove them in your face just love them right now #eventually more plot soon? i hope

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tidetower · 23 days

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Something so tragic about Daeron hating Addam, even if the love still remained.

#valyrianscrolls #fire and blood #asoiaf #addam velaryon #daeron targaryen #addam of hull #daeron the daring #addam x daeron #addaeron #the dance of the dragons #text #it's because daeron still loved addam despite the hatred that had grown in his heart that he tried to protect him (via tessarion)#he didn’t want addam to die #but he would still feel betrayed when addam abandoned him to fight for the blacks/house velaryon #and daeron would probably have abandonment issues already from his family #but the one person who he thought would never leave him did #that's bound to create some resentment #though obviously addam is just trying to be closer to his own family even if it means he has to abandon daeron to do so 🥲#and he tried to protect dareon too even if they are separated by the war #I would say addam never truly turned his back on dareon until tumbleton #the horror stories coming out of there probably made him realize that daeron was no longer the boy he remembered 💔#also addam is literally described as 'duty-bound'#and duty is the death of love SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

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boxofthings · 1 year

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begging y'all to tag it with "PAST ghostroach" also my boy Roach does not deserve this slander

inspired by this post because I felt it on a visceral level and had to make my own version

#the three horseman of the ghostroach fandom: (untagged past ghostroach)(ghostsoap tag)(tagged past character death)#please im begging yall its only because roach barely has any fics as is #ghostroachsoap if ur not a coward #bug boy deserves some love #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #ghostroach #ghost x roach #call of duty modern warfare #cod #mw2 #crack #ngl tho sometimes its worse when roach aint even dead #and for some reason he and ghost had a spat and broke up #box of posts

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toadbreath · 4 months

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dear john;

simon keeps a journal to grieve johnny's death and we all have to suffer for it..

✒ w.c: 3,5k

✒ pairing: ghost x soap // simon riley x john mactavish

✒ rating: m

✒ archive of our own: link here

✒ genre: angst

✒ warnings: mcd!! soap is dead in this fic. suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, implied self harm, emotional distress

✒ author's note: this is only the first chapter, the rest is on ao3, i might add more to it but i'm not sure yet. all ur comments and tags mean the world to me omg

JANUARY 19th, 2024

They call it longing because it takes forever. It is a yearning without an answer and a desire without a satiation. But that is not the whole truth. Longing is only the beginning of it. Longing is a seed in your belly that sprouts the roots of love, but even as the plant begins to grow, you don't know if it's going to bloom a red rose or a poisonous weed. When you're a kid, you think you will know the difference when the time comes, and you will choose the rose, but the older I get, the more I realize that it's not up to me. There is no rhyme or reason to who blooms a flower and who is pruned instead.

I never thought I'd find myself standing among the dead waiting for the flower to bloom. I always assumed I'd be the one with my hand on the sheers, trimming back the branches that would never bear fruit. But I am a soldier, not a gardener.

It’s been three months since your funeral, Johnny. I know you're not listening, and even if you were, there's no way for me to send these to you, but the psychologist said it would help, and I'm running out of ideas.

I'm not used to having something to lose. You changed everything, you changed me. You were a brother, a comrade, a friend, a leader. But you were never just any of those things, and now I don't know how to find my balance again.

I didn't know how much of my weight you were holding up until the ground fell out from beneath my feet. And now, every morning, I wake up, and I forget. Just for a moment, I forget, and the world is right, and the sun is shining, and then I remember. And the loss is the same as it was the day you left, only, now, the wound is festering. I'm rotting, and nothing I do is enough.

There is no honor, no pride in your loss. I cannot make a martyr out of the memory of you. Your death was senseless and meaningless, and I cannot find peace in the knowledge that it was in the name of a noble cause.

There was no nobility in the way he killed you. He didn't kill you because you were a soldier or a terrorist or a man. He killed you because you were in the way. The only comfort I have is that you went out the way you would have wanted, fighting, saving lives, being a hero. But the way you died doesn't erase the way you lived, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot separate the two.

The first time I met you, I saw the same thing in you that I see in myself. You were a killer, and I didn't want to like you, but you made me laugh. It's hard to hold onto your ideals of goodness and righteousness when you've had your hands around the neck of a man begging for his life. But you reminded me what it was like to have a heart, to be human. You made it okay to be the things I was.

There's not a lot of things in this world that scare me. I've stared down the barrel of guns. I've been beaten, tortured, starved, shot, stabbed, burned, and I've survived. I've faced down monsters in men's skin, and I've killed them all, and yet, I don't think I've ever been as afraid as I am right now. I'm scared of who I'll become without you. I'm scared that the last few years will have been wasted, and I'll turn into the kind of man that I would kill. I don't know who I am without you. I don't know how to be alone.

You told me once, after our first mission, that there was no room for regrets on the battlefield, and that there was no point in dwelling on things that could not be changed. At the time, I thought you were being flippant, but I think, now, you were trying to prepare me.

You knew, didn't you? That one of us was going to end up buried.

I wish we could go back, to those first days when the war was new and so were we. Back to the nights of playing cards and talking shit and watching cheesy American movies. We were young and invincible, and we knew everything. It feels like a lifetime ago. I was a different man then, and so were you.

Now, I look at myself, and I don't recognize the person staring back. I'm harder, colder, angrier, and there is a blackness inside me that I'm afraid will swallow me whole.

You were a light in the dark, a candle burning in a window that I could find my way home by. I was lost without you, and you found me. You saved me, and I will never be able to repay you for the debt I owe.

There was always a part of me that wanted more, a part that longed to burn up in the fire of you, to be consumed and destroyed. The only time I have ever felt alive was when you were in my arms. You were the only thing that made sense, the only thing that was good and pure and true, and now you are gone. And I'm left standing in the darkness, waiting for the storm to pass.

I hope that wherever you are, you are finally at peace. I hope that, somehow, you can hear me, and that, maybe, you understand.

I'm not sorry for loving you, Johnny, but I am sorry for saying it too late.

Yours, Simon Riley

read the rest of the chapters on the ao3 link up top~

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fun-loving-peach · 3 months

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Welcome to my Humble Abode!

✦ Peach | 19 | she/her | Hispanic | Nanami’s sweet little peach princess <3

✦ suggestive themes, MDNI 18+, I write from any fandom. Current obsession Choso with a mommy kink

✦ request’s are always opened, I’ll write them when I can though <3, my ask is always opened for questions or simply conversations, I love talking to you guys.

MasterList’s Here ✦

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eulalized · 11 months

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the blades of the helicopter bellow steadily, echoing. the deck of the aircraft fails to make you shift uncomfortably in your seat—you try to keep yourself still, lest you unsettle ghost. the pilots announce that the drop zone is twenty klicks away, telling your team to sit tight. you know this mission will be different, you say that about every mission, but this time it really is different. how would everything take place? you’d know the answer usually, your predictions always with certainty in them: you’d make it out alive, just as you always do. but this time’s different, this underlying feeling that makes you doubtful to trust in your abilities now enthralls you.

even ghost has his predictions, with all his expertise and skills, but with solidarity that you may not survive… you become more and more unsure.

ghost looks up at you, his eyes just peeking up from his slouched position across you. you can’t see his face through the mask, but you can tell his eyes have a softness to them. “hey,” he says, breaking you out of the string of skyrocketing thoughts. you almost don’t catch it as the wings of the ‘whirlybird’, as soap would call it, just barely drowns out all other sounds.

you blink at him, waiting—you wonder if he can tell if your eyes seem to glisten with a tint of unease (yet you know he always can tell). for heaven’s sake, this is ghost. the ghost who won’t play merry hell about any mission, so that much tells you that you ought to have faith in yourself and in the team.

“i got your back… you got mine, yeah?”

the weight of his words carry a heavy weight, it buries itself into your mind, resting there peacefully. you let it stay. trust me, you think is what he says. you delay your response no further, answering with a light nod and a smile so imperceptible that only ghost notices.

you acknowledge with a voice as soft as his, “yeah.” even if just as soldiers, it feels good to know you can count on ghost. the earlier feeling dissipates, it replaces itself with a more unfamiliar emotion: a reticently silent, gentle warmth you can’t quite describe. but the way you look at ghost now and he you leads you to believe that perhaps it is him, you want it to be him.

#lzd.drabbles #ghost my little scrunkly i love him #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #gn!reader #call of duty #modern warfare #cod #death tw #just in case

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soft-lilith · 10 days

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Spilling my woes into your whisky

Word count 2.7k | Angst and Fluff

Soooo @writersdrug encouraged me to post my brain farts and I will do so from now on. If any of you have complains, got to her. /s

I hope you like it.

AO3 Mirror

The golden liquid in your glass looked so tempting even with the knowledge that you hated its taste. Small drops of water ran down the pretty looking glass, forming a small puddle underneath. Faint music entered your ears, but you couldn't hear a thing.

Your arms rested on the bar like heavy bags of meat. Between them were three beautiful rings.

One of them was way too expensive and was the reason you literally kicked his ass. Who spends 12 grand on a stupid engagement ring? He did. Idiot. Big, loving, caring idiot. You hate him so much, hate him for leaving you alone in this hell called life.

A tear fell on the gold ring with a beautiful design inspired by nature. Inside was a simple inscription.

Eternally yours.

Liar.

He is such a liar. How dare he ever give you hope of a life of bliss, a life by his side, a life away from this suffocating pain?

With trembling hands, you raised the glass to your chapped lips and gulped it down in one fell swoop.

Disgusting. You would never understand why he liked the taste of this shit so much.

As the woody note spread through your mouth, an image entered your brain.

It was one of those nights, the nights after an extremely hard mission. No words were spoken. Moonshine was the only source of light with the lit end of your cigarette.

Your head rested on his hard chest, listening to his heartbeat, while his nose rested in your hair. It was a ritual that was incorporated shortly after you first landed between his sheets.

It was all fun and games back then. But even on your first night, you couldn't shake the feeling that could best be described as weird. A mixture of fear and hope, lust and love.

On nights like that, the two of you became each other's world, and everything outside the door of your dorm was nonexistent. Leaving behind the cruel world you just fought in. He poured himself his favorite whiskey and you lit a cigarette. Both habits you tried your best to get rid of. But in moments like this, it was a treat, a reward for increasing your kill count. Something that was necessary, but the worst part of your job.

At the end of the day, you are human, and taking another's life leaves you with scars. Some of them are hidden and some of them show through a cigarette or a glass of whisky.

The bartender didn't need a word from you to know you needed another. Another drink to get closer to numbing your pain. You were used to pain. In fact, pain had been your longest friend. It was there when you grew up and the days you started basic training. The day you joined the team and the day you tasted him for the first time.

How it could find you anything but repulsive is beyond you. But he did. He kissed every scar life gave you, kissed the still-healing wounds of your past.

Your tears began to mingle with the snot running from your nose. It must look so hideous, a woman who doesn't move an inch, her eyes looking somewhere that wasn't in this bar, dressed in all black, her husband's uniform jacket draped over her shoulders.

"Stop stealin' me clothes, bonnie!", he complained to you. With innocence in your eyes, you look at him, in his shirt and nothing but his shirt.

"It's not my fault I look so much better in them."

He crossed his big arms over his chest as he looked down at you. Smiling, you rolled onto your back and locked eyes with him, placing your hand on your exposed thigh.

"If you want them back, you have to take them off first," you cooed and his eyes narrowed.

"Ye're a ratchet woman."

Before you could pout, he picked you up with ease and threw you over his broad shoulders. Your laughter echoed down the hallway leading to your shared bedroom.

"No, wait, I-!"

A slap on your butt cut short your pleading and his grip on your waist tightened.

"Ye'll see what ye get for playin' games, bonnie."

And you did. You walked funny for three days.

You put the empty glass back on the bar. The alcohol burned in your throat, but the pain wasn't strong enough to conceal your pain.

"My condolences."

You almost jumped at the male voice that ripped you out of your trance. How hard did you dissociate to not even notice that someone had sat down next to you?

"Thank you."

Nothing more, but enough. Hastily you wiped away some of the endless tears. With the nearby napkins the bartender had placed down with a sympathetic smile the moment the first tear left your eyes, you blew your nose and removed some of the ruined makeup under your eyes.

The man got a shot in front of him, which was quickly emptied and set down for a refill.

You felt your pulse in your head as you tried to pull yourself together. Should you try to talk to him? After all, the two of you were nothing more than strangers sitting in a bar in the middle of the day, getting drunk.

"What... What makes you drink at 14?"

A deep chuckle escaped his lips. As if you had asked the most unnecessary question. From his point of view, you probably did. You blinked a few times before playing nervously with your refilled whisky glass.

"It's 19."

Your head turned towards the man. His dark blond hair looked unkempt, and there were dark circles under his piercing blue eyes. There was no way you had sat in that bar for 5 hours bathing in grief.

"He's right, darling," the bartender explained, giving you a gentle look. "Would you like me to call you a cab?"

Slowly your eyes returned to the rings in front of you, as if they could speak for you.

You have been looking at wedding bands for a while. None of them seem to be 100% up to scratch, and with an increasingly annoyed fiancé by your side, you were even more unsure. But how could he not get anxious when this was the 4th store you went to look for rings?

"Come on, bonnie, just pick yin that ye like."

You looked at him with a slight pout.

"I don't vibe with any of them... maybe we should look somewhere else?"

He looked at you with his smile that still made your knees weak. Gently, he placed his hand on your cheek and you automatically nuzzled into it.

"If that's whit ye want, we can look somewhere else."

There it was again, his endless understanding when it comes to everything that concerns you. You will never fully comprehend how he was able to put up with your bullshit. And while he showed that he would rather have it done, he never once lashed out at you. Never.

"I just want them to be as beautiful as the ring you gave me," you explained as you moved closer to him, resting your forehead on his chest.

"I ken, bonnie, but if ye want something like that, ye'd need tae rob a bank wi' me."

A laugh escaped your lips and you pulled him into a hug. He kissed the top of your head before resting his chin on it.

"So which bank are we going to hit, Clyde?"

His laughter made you feel warm and fuzzy, and his hand moved up your back to your head, kissing you longingly.

"I love ye," he whispered against your lips.

"No need. I have nowhere else to go," you simply said, emptying another glass.

And you spoke the truth. There was no way you could go back to your house, back to the base, back to all the places that made you think of him.

Silence fell over the man and the bartender, who continued their work. And it stayed that way for a while. Endless tears soaked the bar as you just sat there staring at those stupid rings.

All the broken promises were catching up to you. The promises of sitting on the porch, gray hair and grandchildren playing in the front yard. The promises of traveling the world, making new memories. The promises of always being by your side.

But here you sat, broken, alone, and with the fire that once burned within you extinguished.

"My mother died of cancer."

It took you a moment to register what the man was saying. You turned your head to look at him. There was no sparkle in his blue eyes, and you could see that his inner turmoil was more than a simple storm. Your caretaker overcame his grief and raised your hand to place it over his.

For the first time since he sat down, he looked at you. There it was, a glimpse of what you would call familiarity. His eyes were different than his, but they had seen the same horrors.

"It's not quite the same as losing the love of your life, but I think I'm close to understanding how you feel," he continued, after downing another shot of clear alcohol. How he could drink without making a face was beyond you.

You let out a broken chuckle and your eyes went back to the rings you had picked up from the bar.

"Thank you for opening up, even though I'm just a stranger."

"You're not a stranger."

Confused, you tilted your head. The gears in your head couldn't turn fast enough to put together if you'd ever met this man before.

"We both fight on the same battlefield. We both buried our friends. We both made other people bury their friends."

Your mouth opened slightly before it formed a small smile. Tears streamed down your face again. He was right. While the two of you were talking to each other for the first time, he was not a stranger. He was a comrade, a team member who fought on the same front line. The same battle scars tainted your mind and body.

He couldn't hold your gaze any longer, looking almost shy as he turned his eyes back to his shot glass. Your hand still rested on his as another comfortable silence fell over the two of you.

So many unspoken things were fighting their way to the front of the war that was going on inside your head. You hated yourself so much for every fight you ever had with him. Especially because they all seemed so petty looking back on them now.

"Stop telling me what to do, Soap! I may be your girlfriend, but I'm not your property!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, bonnie, I'm just worried aboot ye!"

A bitter laugh came over your lips as you glared at him.

"Sure, tell you that yourself. Maybe one day I will believe it myself."

You were expecting a slap, and if you were honest, you really deserved one for saying all those things to him. How could you ever have faith that anyone would ever be in love with you? Look at you, a disgrace to your family, hiding the fact that you were a murderer behind the cloak of your uniform, a little whore who fucked all those men in the hope that they could see you, the crying girl inside of you, still waiting for her prince to fight his way through the darkness surrounding her.

But it wasn't a slap in the face, in fact, there was never a raising of his hand. No, he just grabbed your arm and pulled you into a forced embrace. At first you struggled, but eventually you gave in, embracing his warmth as you cried your eyes out.

"Stop thinkin' that ye're no worth my worry, bonnie. It hurts tae see ye like this."

Endless apologies and tears left your body as you continued to cry in his strong arms.

You flinched as the man's phone went off. Gently, you removed your hand so he could answer the call.

"Yes? Yes, I'm at the bar. No, I'm fine. I can text you the address. Later."

He typed something into the device before sliding it back into his pocket. It was only now that you noticed his accent, which your foggy brain had a hard time pinpointing.

"Sorry for the startle."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

"Please, I'm sorry for being so jumpy."

There was something close to a smile on the man's lips. After putting on your rings on your left hand and his on your right, you reached into your jacket pocket. A crumpled pack of cigarettes was placed on the bar. You pulled the ashtray toward you before lighting the cancer stick with a lighter.

"Old habits die hard," he said almost with a teasing undertone, and you sucked your teeth.

"Old habits die hard," you repeated before taking a long drag on your cigarette.

It had something comforting about it, sitting in that chair, at the bar, ignoring the glaring horror waiting outside that front door. And as you sat next to the stranger, you felt yourself starting to calm down, at least a little.

"Are you thinking about revenge, if that's an option?"

Good question. But you already knew the answer.

"Will killing the freak who took his life bring him back into my arms?"

You could see your counter question sinking in as he was about to speak when the front door of the bar opened and a group of young soldiers stumbled into the bar. Great, just what you needed. Some of them were holding a girl close, displaying her like some kind of trophy.

It seemed that you weren't the only one who was more than disdainful at the arrival of the group of people. But once again, your new acquaintance was too slow or too wrapped up in his own thoughts to react faster than one of the men who ordered a round of drinks. The boy stood a little too close to you and his smell made your nose wrinkle.

His eyes lingered, checking you out, before he began to speak.

"He's not worth it."

Your eyes widened and your trembling hand clenched into a fist. But he didn't stop. All those words slowly turned to white noise as you froze. You wanted to stand up and beat the shit out of this asshole who thought it was appropriate to go up to a grieving widow and hit on her. You couldn't, though, which made you hurt even more.

The alcohol kicked in as a dizzy spell washed over you.

Not only that, but endless memories were being dumped on you. The feeling of his 5 o'clock shadow under your fingers, the feeling of his rough hands on your thighs, the feeling of being whole for the first time in your life as you lay in his arms.

A loud sob escaped your lips.

I loved you so. I loved you so and yet

Traitor that you are get a bullet through your heart

Join me right in here, and take a look at my insides

I loved you so. I loved you so and yet

Strangely, the white noise had stopped and you heard someone calling your name. Still not quite back in the present, you turned your head toward the voice calling for you. Slowly, your eyes moved up to meet those of your teammate.

Ghost's brown eyes looked slightly red and unusually emotional. Or as emotional as someone like him could be. You had trouble processing how he found you in this bar in the middle of nowhere.

"Come on, darling, let me take you home. The others are worried."

The words caught in your throat as you tried to answer him. All that happened was another tear falling onto your jacket. Ghost held out his hand to support you. As your stitches were pulled, you put your half-finished cigarette into the glass ashtray. It took you a moment to see the blood on his hand. Ah, that's why the white noise stopped, you thought as you carefully stepped down from the barstool. Ghost put his arm around your shoulders to help you out of the bar.

And as you stumbled along, you turned to the man at the bar who had a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at you. Your lips said, "Thank you," but your vocal cords didn't obey. The new acquaintance gave you only a nod before turning back to his drink.

#lili writes #cod #x reader #call of duty #cod fanfic #cod soap #reader x soap #tw grief #tw angst #tw death of a loved one #tw described blood

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thedeadthree · 1 year

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🐍: AEGON II TARGARYEN and UNA ULLER -> x: HAND IN UNLOVABLE HAND / 🔮: DAEMON TARGARYEN and IOVANNA DAYNE -> x: LOVE IS THE DEATH OF DUTY

🌊: AURANE WATERS and VALAENYA TARGARYEN -> x: AURAENYA / 🥀: SAURON and ALMÁRËA ALFIRIN -> x: BLOODLINES WILL BURN

the darlings @leviiackrman, @dihardys, and @arklay tagged me to make the loves and their beloveds or clowns with these cutest holiday meikers! [ m/f | m/m | f/f ] ty ty! <3

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @kingsroad, @jendoe, @denerims, @chuckhansen, @queennymeria, @risingsh0t, @jackiesarch, @florbelles, @aartyom, @belorage, @yennas, @adelaidedrubman, @confidentandgood, @malefiicarum, @anoras, @marivenah, @shellibisshe, @roofgeese, @aceghosts, @multiverse-of-themind, @stormveils, @unholymilf, @celticwoman, @rocketsummer, @shadowglens and you!

#only if you want to! 🥀🍄#oc: una nathaira uller #x: hand in unlovable hand #oc: iovanna dayne #x: love is the death of duty #oc: valaenya targaryen #x: auraenya #oc: almárëa alfirin #x: bloodlines will burn #TIS THE SEASON WHICH MEANS ITS THIS DEAR PICREW 🤍🤍#modern aus of the fantasy beloveds my dearest <3 #also i am watching a*ndor rn so if u see a clown from that i am nothing if not predictable xjxjxjjx #when im telling u all that when one of these days ill have something done for alma that is like the final scene with rh*aenyra in h*td GAHH #a scene where h*lbrand and her are at the forge and she has her memories back? and she is reminded of what their enemies’ve stolen from them #they are not aware their daughter is still alive (not until literally the end of l*tr sozjxj)#so as far as their aware she is…… no longer with them u know? so like dear rhae rhae she turns from the fires of the forge and the look she #has is VENGEEFUL and it’s so good ✨😌 its not him they should be afraid of its her babey! bloodlines will burn etc etc <3 #(inspired by that line where a*dar was like a lover or a child which to him her memories were erased so it was both for a bit ✨😖)#kind of love aeg and una a normal amount their ship name and that they’re both wearing matching outfits <3 ✨😌#they’re not denying the romantic relationship allegations slzjjxjx not one bit <3 #WHEEZE d*aemon 🤝 aur*ane <- being smug buffons with their beloveds #enya matches the energy and then takes it up a notch bc she’s an aries rising and would rather go to the wall then lose ksjzjxj #enya and iovanna either having none of it or being more smug than them as a challenge!#like great great grandmother like great great granddaughter! like scion like descendant! those are my ladies!#and iovanna being the one who’s having none of it aozjxjj his charms though charming she’s sees through him.. they’re in love etc etc #leg.ocs #leg.tagged #t: picrews #ty ty for the tag! a fav to do this time of year it was lovely to have the opportunity to again 🥀✨🥺

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puckwritesstuff · 2 years

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What if... Sigyn was the only one who died during the attack of the dark elves?

Honestly, Loki's heartbroken every time a Sigyn dies, but I can't think of a timeline where Sigyn is killed that Heimdall doesn't make it Odin's personal problem to figure out how to get her back. Don't mess with a dad's daughter.

Thank you for the ask!

---

“Witch!” Malekith snarled. “Where is the Aether?”

The Kursed had Frigga by the neck, and she sneered at the dark elf.

“I’ll never tell,” she said.

Malekith considered this for a moment.

“I believe you,” he said.

The Kursed ran his sword through Frigga, and the illusion dissipated. Malekith snarled.

“Tear this palace apart!” he ordered. “Search every room. We will find the Aether if it takes—”

Malekith went for the door, which was blocked by Thor, Fandral, and Lady Sif.

“You were saying?” Fandral said.

Thor and the others led the captured Malekith and Kursed solder down to the dungeons. Thor was expecting it to be a bit chaotic, after all of the prisoners had been let out. He hadn’t expected what he would find at his brother’s cell.

Loki was collapsed against the front barrier, his breathing shallow, his stare vacant. He was staring at a body, its blood still dripping down the steps leading up to the cell, a broken bow at her feet. The tips of her golden hair were stained red, and her dark eyes hadn’t been closed.

“Sigyn…” Thor breathed. “No…”

Fandral rushed over and let down the barrier. Loki nearly fell over before Fandral caught him. Loki looked up at his friend, his throat too dry to say anything. Fandral nodded, understanding the unspoken words.

Loki pulled away and brought Sigyn’s lifeless body into his arms, closing her eyes and kissing her forehead. Then he started to sob, but no tears came. He’d run out of them long ago. Fandral put a hand on Loki’s back, not knowing what to say.

Malekith smirked at the sight and Lady Sif clocked him, shoving him towards his cell.

Thor knelt down.

“Loki, I…” He shook his head. “What happened?”

“What does it matter now?” Loki bit back. “She’s gone. She’s gone, and I couldn’t stop it, and who’s fault is that?”

Thor didn’t respond.

“Your highnesses?”

Thor stood as Heimdall approached. He had clearly been crying, but was composed enough to keep his voice even. He looked at Sigyn’s body and breathed deeply.

“If I may have my daughter.”

Loki reluctantly let go for the only person he would have if asked. Heimdall took Sigyn’s body in his arms and left the dungeons.

“Where is he going?” Fandral asked.

The three followed Heimdall all the way to the throne room. Odin was there with Frigga and Jane. Odin surveyed the damage to the room as Heimdall laid his daughter’s dead body at the foot of the throne. Frigga gasped at the sight and Jane went pale, rushing to Thor. Loki resisted the urge to go over to Sigyn, waiting, instead, for his father’s reaction.

“Heimdall…” Odin said. “My condolences.”

“This could have been prevented,” Heimdall said.

“This is a great tragedy, certainly,” Odin said. “But to what are you—”

“You have been reading the signs as well as I have,” Heimdall said. “Infinity stones resurfacing. The Chitauri organizing in far greater numbers and more cohesive structures than they ever have before. Worlds attacked and decimated, their populations halved in a day.”

“You think these are signs of Ragnarök,” Frigga said.

“I think they are signs of a threat far greater than Ragnarök,” Heimdall said. “Loki knows of whom I speak.”

Heimdall turned to Loki, who nodded. Odin stood up straight.

“What is he doing out of his cell?” he asked.

“Father—”

“I let him out, your majesty,” Fandral said, interrupting Thor. “I thought he should have a chance to say goodbye to Sigyn.”

Frigga swept over to Loki, pulling him into a warm embrace, the first real one he’d had since he fell from the Bifrost. He melted, burying his face in her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry I said you weren’t—”

“Shh, shh,” Frigga said. “I know. And so did she.”

She lifted his chin and smiled at him.

“What is Heimdall saying?” she asked.

“He is called Thanos,” Loki said. “He’s from Titan. He found me, when I fell.”

Loki stepped away from Frigga to address Odin.

“In exchange for the Tesseract, he promised the Chitauri army would help me conquer Earth,” Loki said. “He gave me the staff to… observe. Make certain that I followed his plan.”

“His plan?” Thor said. “You were the one that desired a throne.”

Loki looked at Thor.

“I told you,” Loki said. “I never wanted a throne. But what better way to catch the attention of the All-Father than threaten his empire?”

Thor blinked. “Loki, you could have died.”

“Death would have been preferable to my treatment as a ‘guest’ of Thanos,” Loki said.

Odin gripped Gungnir with a white knuckled fist— not to strike, but to keep himself upright as his body wanted to collapse.

“What would you have me do?” he asked Heimdall.

“Without Sigyn, there will be no victory,” Heimdall said. “Not for you. Not for your sons. Not for those that would oppose Thanos.”

“And you’re certain these are not simply the words of a father in grief?” Odin asked.

“You know what it is to lose a daughter,” Heimdall said. “Twice now.”

Odin had the same confused look as the rest of the room, but he realized what Heimdall was saying before anyone.

“Rindr…” he breathed.

“I would not ask this were it not in your power,” Heimdall said.

“It is not,” Odin said.

He looked over at Jane.

“But it might be within hers,” Odin said. “Dr. Foster, approach.”

Jane looked up at Thor, who nodded and nudged her along. She stepped forward towards the throne.

“You are familiar, I presume, with the basic principles of the physics of energy?” Odin said.

“Energy can neither be created or destroyed, just converted into another form,” Jane said. “And all energy will eventually be converted into heat, which can’t be converted back.”

Odin nodded. “Would you be surprised to learn that life is a kind of energy? One that this body lacks.”

Frigga turned to Fandral.

“Quickly, fetch Iðunn,” she whispered.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said before running out.

“Malekith used the Aether to drain life from his enemies,” Odin said. “I would imagine that if you are a physicist of the caliber that my son claims, you would be able to convert some of that stolen energy back, and place it in this vessel.”

Jane blinked. “What, bring her back to life?”

She looked back at Thor quickly before facing the king again.

“Life might be energy, but I don’t know that I can—”

Thor put a hand on her shoulder.

“She can do it,” he said.

“Thor, I appreciate your confidence, but bringing the dead back to life?” Jane said.

“She’s never done magic before,” Loki said, stepping forward. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Jane hesitated.

“I want her back more than anyone in this room,” Loki said. “Please, trust me.”

Jane and Loki approached the body, kneeling next to it. Loki brushed Sigyn’s hair out of her eyes and placed his hand behind her head.

“Put your hands on her,” Loki said.

Jane put a hand on Sigyn’s shoulder, and the other by the wound in her gut.

“Breath in and hold it,” Loki said. “Focus on what you want to do.”

Jane held the breath. She could feel the Aether swirling in her chest, like an ever-shifting knot. She tried as best she could to clear her head and imagine Sigyn alive and well.

“Don’t speak, just nod,” he said. “Do you feel that?”

She nodded.

“As you exhale, imagine that energy flowing down your arms and into her body,” Loki said.

She nodded again. She breathed out and could feel the Aether traveling through her and out of her hands. Red mist swirled around Sigyn, lifting her from the steps and into the air. Loki grabbed Jane and pulled her back.

The mist focused on Sigyn’s wound, sealing it. Then it poured into her chest, just above her heart. The mist vanished in a flash of red light and Sigyn fell. Loki caught her before she hit the ground.

Sigyn gasped when she fell in Loki’s arms.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where… What happened?”

Loki just smiled, almost laughing, and set her on her feet so he could kiss her. She kissed back, smiling against his lips.

#prompt #fanfiction #loki #sigyn #thor #fandral #sif #malekith #heimdall #odin #frigga #logyn #loki x sigyn #Love Duty and Glorious Purpose fic #LDPG Death of Light AU

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