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[ironteeth-fury]

God 😵‍💫 the addition of "boy" to the end of things makes me weak

"awnser me, boy"

"look at me when I'm talking to ya boy"

"show me boy"

Like please? Please let me suck your dick? Let me make you feel good? Fuck me?

Ugh please 😵‍💫

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ugh. forget everything i’ve ever said. unless you thought it was smart or funny in which case remember it forever

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So im usually on the soap gifts knives to ghost train but

Ghost gives knife to soap

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love when fictional men are so devoted to their partner it makes them dangerous and insane. very slutty behavior keep it up king

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em dash is so fucking sexy. puts her in a paragraph 8 times.

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"I'm normal about the concept of ownership" <- guy who wants to be collared and leashed and caged and held and pinned and kept and loved and told mine mine mine and not let go ever forever until the end of time

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Good part of the rescue Alejandro and his men mission is just looking at Ghost’s back and ass(with the right camera position) and i can’t complain (neither can Soap)

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The most powerful man in the army

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Ghoap Pain sharing soulmate Au part 4

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

CW for slightly more in depth descriptions of secondhand torture

---

John staggers gracelessly into the next checkpoint at a jog, disheveled, sweating, and panting grit-teethed through the pain as he practically falls into one of the startled soldiers manning the checkpoint, grabbing his shoulders to stay upright. 

“Need to talk to an officer,” he grits out. “My soulmate’s getting fucking tortured.” 

“You what?” blurts the man he’s holding onto, eyes flicking from Soap’s sweating face to the green patch on his vest, to his lack of pack. “Did you abandon your ruck? That’s a disqualification.”

“Yes,” Soap barks in his face. “I fucking know. But my soulmate just got themselves fucking captured mid-mission, and now are being tortured, and I *need to talk to an officer!*”

“You’re fucking bonkers, mate,” the man under his hands snaps, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “No shame if you can’t hack it – unless you try to tell a fucking tale like this one.”

“I need,” Soap repeats slowly, like he’s addressing a small, misbehaving child, grip tightening enough that the man can’t get away, will have bruises through his gear. “To talk to an officer. An SAS officer. Now.”

“You can’t just –” the man protests, and Soap *does not have the time or patience for this.*

“Lad,” he snaps, the *yank* of pain in his hand (a fingernail?) adding a snarl to his words. “You can call me into an officer and then hand me your radio, or I can *take it from you.”*

The man’s spine stiffens, clearly ready to make him prove that, but his partner steps up to Soap’s side, radio in hand. 

“Sir,” he’s saying. “Corporal MacTavish is reporting an Echo of extreme severity that he believes is indicating his soulmate has been captured on a mission and is being tortured. He’s requesting to speak to an officer. Handing off now.”

Soap drops the uncooperative man in the dirt with a shove and takes the radio with shaking hands.

“Sir,” he grits out as another fingernail goes. Damn, that’s really fucking unpleasant.

“Corporal,” a voice crackles from the other side of the radio. “Who is your soulmate? I’ll check their mission status.”

“I don’t fucking know sir,” Soap admits, and glares dagger at the first man when he scoffs. There is a moment of silence from the radio and Soap holds onto the urge to scream. Are they even going to listen? He’d never tried to explain out loud what he just *knows*, all the little pieces he’s put together over the years that make him *sure* that he’s on the right track, that his soulmate is waiting for him on the other side of the SAS selection he just voluntarily abandoned because they’d gone and gotten themselves in trouble before he could find them. “I know how that sounds sir, but I *know* they’re a soldier sir, and I’m pretty fucking sure they’re SAS. They’re in trouble, sir, please.”

The silence stretches for another second, two – Soap grunts, pained, as he loses another fucking fingernail. 

“Talk me through this, soldier.” comes the voice on the other side of the line, finally, and Soap tries his fucking best.

“They got in some kind of major fight about six hours ago,” he starts with, pacing around the little flat space the checkpoint was in, unable to stand still even though everything *screamed* at him to stop, to rest, to pass the fuck out, especially as he started trying to recount the injuries. “Got themselves fucking shot, I think. In the thigh. Lacerations up the arms, bruises fucking everywhere. I think they fell, too, somewhere decently high. Fell unconscious for a while, hoped they’d been fucking evaced, but they woke up restrained about three hours ago. Metal cuffs, maybe, or wire? Wrists and ankles. Getting beat to shit at semi-regular intervals since, but they’re not targeting the existing wounds. Lost three fucking fingernails on the left in the last few minutes. Losing fingernails fucking SUCKS, sir.”

“...that it does.” The voice on the other end says. “What makes you think they’re one of ours?”

God, how does Soap try to condense years of impressions and then his own experiences into something that makes sense? Something convincing?

“I already knew how to take the pain of the rifle recoil when I hit bootcamp, because they’d done it a couple years before,” he says. “There isn’t much else like it, not the way we do it, hours and days in a row for months, not just once in a while like a hobbyist.” 

He gets an interested hum through the radio, and a “Alright MacTavish, but –” 

Soap accidentally interrupts with a yowl of pain, surprised, when his soulmate loses two fingernails at once in the right hand, instead of another on his left like he’d been braced for.

“Son of a BITCH,” he yells, switching hands holding the radio and clenching his fist like that would dull the pain that he can’t see and can’t fix. “Switched hands, those fucking bastards. We’ve got two more perfectly good nails on the left, you shitheads, I’m using this fucking hand.”

On the other side of the radio, Captain Yuen, who’s overseeing this section of Selection and had not been expecting this call, makes eye contact with his Lieutenant and lifts an interested brow. 

If the Corporal is faking this to make excuses for giving up, then he’s dedicated to his act. 

If he isn’t… 

Soap bites out a few more curses until the immediate agony fades out into the general lake of fire his whole body has become, then tries to go back to a cohesive report: the way it felt to get bootcamp second hand, the sudden intensity of it. Tries to pinpoint the things that were specific to the military, or at least plausibly so. 

He doesn’t say anything about the pains that had come before. 

That was no one’s business but his and his soulmate’s. 

He’s interrupted again, not by another fingernail, but by– “-- needle, sir,” he says, tense, feeling the pierce and the sting. Oh, there is very little chance that’s a good thing. “Right arm, at the elbow. Big ass fucking needle, feels like.”

“Are they still restrained, Corporal?”

Soap blinks, assessing, trying to pick a particular pain out of the fucking background cosmic microwave radiation of the universe. “Yes, sir,” he reports. “No change there.”

No change there, but – heat. It’s starting at the injection site and moving quickly, spreading, building, mounting –

“Fuck,” he gasps, as his knees go out from under him, only saved from faceplanting by the second soldier catching his arm. “Fuck, sir, they injected something, it – it fucking *burns*, it –”

The fire hits his chest, and he *screams.*

It’s a little bit of a blur from there.

The soldier takes the radio from him, and wrestles the strap of the rifle off him. There are words, orders. They haul him up and into the jeep, strap him in, and the second soldier, the one who’s not a *cunt* leaps into the driver seat. 

He forces the radio back into Soap’s hand before he rattles off down across trackless terrain. 

It takes an interminable set of minutes before Soap manages to claw his way back into enough sense to hear the officer on the other end repeatedly calling his name, stern but level, demanding his attention.

“Here, sir,” he gasps out.

“Good,” the man says. “Finish your report. Why do you think your soulmate is SAS?” 

“Have a squadmate,” Soap manages through grit teeth. “Got RTU after a summer Selection.”

He pants his way through the next surge of fire through his veins, biting down on his arm until he feels his skin give beneath his sleeve, to muffle his sounds and keep from screaming in the officer’s ear again.

“Almost made it through Jungle. Told me some things. Timing matched up,” he gasps. “Shitty fucking summer, hurt for months. Year before I enlisted.” 

The officer asks a question but Soap’s ears are ringing and he can’t hear it until possibly the third repeat.

“Sorry, sir,” he groans. “One other major injury. Echo’s in my file. August. Year ago. Shot. No matching injury report from the regular Army f-for that month.”

Those with soulmates could request that the medical personnel check their Echos against injuries received and reported by others with soulmates. 

The UKSF are exempt from automatic inclusion in those reports, due to the additionally classified nature of what they did. 

So are those who just voluntarily opt out, and Soap fucking *knows* that, okay, he does.

All he has is circumstantial evidence that could fit other explanations. But he knows he’s right, and he knows his soulmate was in trouble. 

He can’t go to him, so the only thing he has left is to convince the man on the other end of this com that he isn’t delusional. 

He keeps trying, all through the foggy drive to the base camp, and then the trip to the nearest base hospital – where they finally sedate him, when the fire turns into claws inside his veins, raking and shredding him from the inside out until all he can do is scream.

[ironteeth-fury]

House cats have no issues, just look at em

all I'm saying is if I was a house cat I wouldn't be having these issues

[ironteeth-fury]

MIA (page 13)

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Poor Simon isn’t doing too good.

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if he wasn’t meant to make me realize i’m gay, then why did they make him beautiful? explain that liberals.

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wake up babe new ao3 tag just dropped. author is currently playing call of duty!

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Romance Dialogue Starters

Tender / Confessional Moments

"Come here. Just for a minute."

"You don’t have to be strong all the time."

"Stay. Please, just stay."

"You make me feel safe. That’s terrifying."

"I missed you so much it hurt."

"When I’m with you, I forget to be afraid."

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"You’re not a burden. You never were."

"I wish I’d met you sooner."

"You’re my favorite ‘what if.’"

Protective/Overprotective Behavior

"Where were you? I’ve been calling for hours."

"You could’ve died, you idiot."

"Don’t ever scare me like that again."

"Next time, I’m going with you. No arguments."

"You’re hurt. Let me see."

"I’m not letting you do this alone."

"Overreacting? You bled through your shirt!"

"You think I care what they say? I care about you."

"If anything happens to you, I’ll burn the whole damn world down."

Conflicted Longing

"If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop."

"We can’t do this." – "Then don’t look at me like that."

"You’re the last person I should want."

"Tell me to go, and I will."

"I want to hate you. But I don’t."

"This changes everything."

"Just tonight. Just this once."

"You’re always in my head. I hate it."

"You deserve better. But I’m selfish."

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i wanna watch him unbuckle his belt and turn it into my collar n leash sooooo baddd

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Spicy Dialogue Starters Pack

Slow Burn That’s About to Explode

"If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something we’ll both regret."

"Say that again. Slower."

"You really like testing my patience, don’t you?"

"Back up. Closer. I want to see if you’ll actually do it."

"Do you realize how loud you were moaning my name last night?"

"You should probably stop touching me like that... unless you plan on finishing what you started."

"We’re not doing this here." – "Why not? Scared you’ll like it?"

"I dare you. No, seriously—I dare you."

"One bed. One night. You sure you can behave?"

"You think I won’t?" – "I know you will. That’s the problem."

Enemies to Lovers, but We’re Both Hot and Unhinged

"If I kiss you, it’s not because I like you. It’s because you won’t shut up."

"Do it. Touch me like you hate me."

"You’re infuriating." – "And you’re turned on."

"Careful. You’re starting to sound jealous."

"Admit it. You like it when we fight."

"You want me. You just don’t want to want me."

"If you’re going to stare, you might as well do something about it."

"Say it. Say you want me." – "Why? You’ll just use it against me."

"Keep talking like that and I’ll kiss you right here."

"Don’t tempt me." – "What if I want to?"

Post-Tension Intimacy (A.K.A. We Finally Snapped)

"You're shaking." – "So are you."

"This doesn’t mean anything." – "Then why are you holding me like that?"

"I’ve wanted this since the moment I met you."

"You're not getting any sleep tonight, just so you know."

"You're mine now. Say it."

"God, you feel so good." – "Yeah? Then shut up and keep going."

"You can hate me in the morning. Just… let me have this tonight."

"Is this what you wanted?" – "No. I wanted more."

"Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."

"I’m going to ruin you. And you’re going to thank me for it."

Teasing Touch, Dangerous Proximity

"You’re blushing." – "Shut up."

"That shirt’s doing you no favors. Take it off."

"If you wanted me to kiss you, you could’ve just said so."

"I like the way you say my name. Say it again."

"You’re standing really close." – "Yeah? You gonna move?"

"I can feel your heartbeat. Is that for me?"

"Your hands are shaking... here, let me help you."

"Careful. Someone might think you actually want me."

"You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you?"

"We’re not supposed to do this." – "Since when has that ever stopped us?"

Voice Low, Words Barely Whispers

"Keep your voice down. Or don’t. Let them hear."

"Every time you talk, all I can think about is your mouth on mine."

"Say the word, and I’ll have you against that wall in five seconds."

"What do you think happens if I kiss you right now?"

"You smell like trouble." – "You taste like it."

"Look me in the eyes when you lie like that."

"One more step and I won’t be able to hold back."

"If you keep teasing me like that, I’m going to ruin you."

"Tell me to stop." – silence – "Didn’t think so."

"We’re alone now. You still pretending this is just tension?"

Hot-Headed, Argument-Laced, About to Snap

"Why do you always have to push my buttons?" – "Because I love watching you lose control."

"You think you’re in control here? That’s cute."

"You're not walking away from me. Not this time."

"God, you're impossible." – "You didn’t seem to mind last night."

"Say it louder. Maybe if you scream my name again, I’ll believe you."

"Keep pretending you don’t want me. I’ll keep proving you wrong."

"You're dangerous." – "Only if you ask nicely."

"Is this still an argument or are we just flirting with knives now?"

"Admit it. You love it when I get like this."

"Don’t act like you don’t want this too."