#09 simon ghost riley

[callofdudes]

09 Soap, a viking out to kill an enslaving overlord threatening his people and prove himself to earn the status of chief from his father.

09 Ghost who's been sold off as a thrall in the underbelly of the dangerous Zaragoza dunes to a despicable man named Roba and is doing anything to get his freedom back.

They end up crossing paths in Ghost's will to escape and Soap's determination to find the overlord threatening his people. Together they work together with the overarching goal of getting what they each want, Ghost to run from his master and find freedom, and Soap to avenge and save his people.

But... They might end up finding something else along the way. (They might kiss, mwaahaha)

[electricchaser]

09 Ghost has a designated chair in Soap's office.

Soap doesn't clue into it at first. In the beginning, it was just an extra chair stuck in the corner of his office. It was old and worn, and he had a newer one in the other corner, but it was only for him to use when he needed a break while working, or for company, so he didn't care to replace it. Then Ghost started hanging around after hours, or even just during the workday, tending to his own responsibilities while Soap worked, but every time he'd sit in that exact chair. It confused Soap for a minute, and at first he'd try to make small talk, not wanting Ghost to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, but eventually he catches on that Ghost isn't interested in conversation, or any interaction. He just doesn't want to be alone. Just wants to have a little company without the pressure of actually having to engage in social activities.

So Soap doesn't say anything when some of Ghost's belongings, officeware and paperwork start accumulating in a small bin under the chair overtime.

He doesn't say anything when he walks up to his office one afternoon to do some paperwork, only to find it unlocked and a bell set on top to alert anyone inside, and merely sits down at his desk to work on his reports when he sees Ghost curled up and out cold in the chair.

He doesn't bring it up when he continues to find Ghost curled up in his chair, sleeping or otherwise, even when Soap isn't in his office. Eventually he gets used to Ghost just being an accessory to his office, like a picture frame or a little basket of pens, always there, even when he wasn't.

He does say something when another recruit is in his office and they go to sit in that chair and he's struck with this overwhelming feeling of just... wrong and politely but firmly directs them to the other chair because 'that's not their chair'.

The first time Soap walked into his office after Shepperd's betrayal, and he sets eyes on that empty chair, he feels like a cold bucket of water was dumped over him, because seeing that chair empty has a whole different meaning now. It didn't mean Ghost was just off training or busy with other things. It didn't mean Ghost was just tied up somewhere else busy working. No, now that empty chair was a sign of pain. A symbol, of how Soap had been betrayed, a constant reminder of how the person that chair belonged to was no longer around to use it.

It takes a solid three weeks of Soap gathering his things and working somewhere else on base before he can finally stand the thought of sitting in his otherwise empty office to do his paperwork. The first time he does, he has to take multiple breaks to sob and pull at his hair and curse the world, and curse himself because damn it he should've known better than to get used to something that could get taken away from him so easily.

A few months later, Soaps snaps at an ignorant rookie who sees the old worn out chair and suggests getting rid of it, replacing it with something in better shape, and he only has half a heart to feel bad after the fact.

That chair never leaves Soap's office, even after he dies, because Price knew. He knew and he doesn't have the heart to clear out Soap's office. Not yet. Not for a long time. It isn't until Price leaves active duty and someone else takes over that that office gets cleared out, and even then, that chair and most of the belongings in that office leave with Price, set up and stored safely in a room in his house, because he'll be damned if he lets the only things left of his teammates just get thrown away, like they never mattered. Because they mattered to each other, more than anything or anyone else.

[nekucreates]

You feel like you're in a nightmare, and there's a vengeful spirit before you. You can't run. He'll always find you.

(An AU of mine where 09 Simon Riley is a very angry spirit <3)

[amikoroyaiart]

I will never get tired of drawing them kissing

[yooo-lets-go]

Not made to last

[aidenlydia]

My beloved autism creature... MacTavish always keeps him from exploding, they don't call him a demolitions expert for nothing

[tsuchigomu]

Seriously. I love 2009 simon riley so much. I love his droopy blue eyes, his cursing, his voice, his youthfulness, his baclava and sunglasses. everything about him screams biker boyfriend. He deserves so much more attention… HIS BLUE EYES ARE SO……. not to mention he looks adorably high. Maybe i’m just a sicko for droopy eyes. HE LOOKS SO TIRED! They remind me of a puppy and i’m not sure if i’m going crazy or what. HE’S JUST SO ADORABLE DAWG I CANT…beefy ghost is cute too, but 09 ghost js gives me the tall handsome, well-built biker boy. Why did they have to do him like that bro…. (Pics not mine)

[baohanhanesel]

I bring you 09 Ghoap

[meowmeowriley]

Current TF 141 wakes up in the OG universe, in their OG bodies.

For Price, not much is different, though he feels older, his facial hair is wrong, and his voice is less destroyed by years of smoking. At least the facial hair is fixable. Grumpy about his now aching more than ever back, he makes his way to his office and starts looking into his own file as well as those of his teammates.

For Soap, though he'd never admit it, he feels like he got an upgrade. A scar over his left eye and a squarer jaw, coupled with his apparent promotion, as those around him have been falling him Captain since he left his room, have him practically preening. Opening his mouth reveals a voice not quite as low, and more accented, which he can (has to) live with.

Ghost is pissed. Not only is he now downgraded to his old balaclava, rip 20+ custom skull plate masks, he thinks, but he's also lost several centimeters of altitude. As he makes his way towards Captain Price's office it become increasingly clear that in this universe, him stalking through the base like an angry wet cat is common, as no one bats an eye and several men toss him a decently cheery "hey Lt!" as he goes. Being forced to look up to see Soap, who apparently outranks him now, fills him with the urge to put his fist through something. Perhaps a computer monitor.

Gaz is having an awful time. Not only did he wake up in a body that most definitely isn't his, but the men at the gate tried to arrest him because apparently in this universe, and isn't that a fucking wild thought, the operator known as Gaz is dead. He had to sneak in after losing the guards, at least he was still a highly skilled soldier. He snuck up to the window of Price's office, and could hear 3 unfamiliar voices from within. After eavesdropping for a moment he surmised that it was his team, in the exact same predicament as himself. He wasn't alone. Thank fuck. Climbing through the window was the quickest option, but had him tossed back against a wall by some little guy in a skull mas- Ghost?

"Who the fuck are you?" Small Ghost spits up at him.

"I'm Gaz." He replies, admittedly miserably.

Ghost relents, but hesitantly. "Why are you white?"

"Why are you short?" Gaz shoots back without thinking.

A much larger Soap than Gaz is used to lunges forward to restrain Ghost, stopping him from presumably fileting Gaz for his cheek.

[dtfpeta]

‘09 ghost has been on my mind lately. I just see him as such a domestic man and doting lover! Very chivalrous and a “That’s my wife!” mentality fs.

Wouldn’t forgive himself if you were to open your own passenger door after a date, and prior to that he was practically leaping over the hood of the car to open the door before you got out. Tsking at you as he takes your hand and walks you to the entrance of y’all’s favorite chain restaurant because you best believe he’s splurging with an appetizer and dessert. “Anythin’ for my girl” he’d smile.

And on the very rare occasion that he has the day off but you’re the one stuck at work, your stress almost instantly vanishes when an assault of lemon scented cleaner and bleach fills your senses. Ghost definitely enjoys wearing the pants in the relationship but damn does he take the role of malewife seriously. The house would be cleaned from head to toe, a stick of incense burning (because he appreciates their stress reducing aroma), and burgers resting in the microwave. Because if he's one thing but a lovestruck man it's the king of the grill.

And when he's on deployment during the cold, dead of night- the thoughts he procures of you barely hold a flame to the actual warmth you could provide him. The cheesily posed polaroid of you he begged to take burns a hole in his pocket and his hands claw to retrieve it. A pining sigh being breathed from him as his palm comes to rub at his brow. Finally, he begins to warm up now that his thoughts are plagued of you and how he can spoil you when he gets back home.

[mactavishenjoyer]

09' Ghost, into his radio: "ROACH! ROACH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?? RESPOND!"

09' soap:"how the hell is he going to respond when he can't fucking talk!"

09' Ghost :"he'll make someone else do it"

09' soap: "that's the stupidest thing I have heard all day."

A random man over their radios :"EAST HALLWAY! PLEASE I HAVE A WIFE AND KI-"*gunshot*

09' Ghost, with heart eyes:"see, I told you!"

09' Soap:

[callofdudes]

Did they just post artwork? Yes. Am I in love with every viking/cod au that crosses my path? Yes. Do I like shifters? Fucking absolutely.

And @aidenlydia has fed me all of those at once. So obviously I'm writing something for it because it's beautiful! Here is their original post.

Winter fall.

09 SoapGhost

Snow in the Highlands was always to be expected. Even in the deep treks as the white specks of freezing cold weather clung to his beard. Icy blue eyes only added to the background, wind whipping around them up in the mountains.

John stopped in the slow, noticing part of the thick pine tree line had been caved in. Branches snapped and trees arching from a weight.

Deep foot prints quickly being filled by the pummelling snow leading into the dark abyss of the forest.

Along his collar, Ghost stirred. Fluffing his feathers along John's neck, making him shiver a little.

"You wanna go have a look?"

The rather large crow's wings puffed out from the fuzzy fur cloak John wore, making a rather disgruntled noise.

John chuckles. "Be quick then, we're both hungry."

His little feet bounced, pushing off of John's shoulder and flapping his large black wings against the harsh winds. Snow landing across his feathers and beak.

John watched as Ghost took the wind, soaring up over the tree line and dashing through the pine wood.

The trees bowed and swayed, bending as Ghost monitored the snowy forest floor. Seeing broken branches and trees bent all the way down the side of the embankment.

Sharp eyes surveying every inch until he spotted their goal. The large elk that had wandered it's way into their trap and woken their stomachs gnawing on some grass.

Ghost cawed, alerting John before diving toward the large beast.

Hearing his cry, John grabbed his axe, rushing through the flurry of snow. Past pine branches and into the thick darkness.

Following the deep trails of the elk until coming across the opening where Ghost was picking a fight with it.

Feet planted on the elks muzzle as it tried to shake him off and cant him away. Ghost squawked, flapping his wings into its face, disorienting it.

Before the elk could figure out what was happening, John slammed his axe in an upper cut, the blade lodging between the thick fur and skin, tearing at the ribs, making the animal cry.

Blood covered the pearl white snow, soaking into the flurry as it fought and then fell to its demise.

Ghost squawked, flapping his wings rapidly and landing on John's head and fluffing his feathers, stretching out one wing to finely clean the feathers.

John secured the elk to a rope and pulled it up over his shoulder. "You all good up there??" John reached up and Simon hopped along the top of his head, crooning his beak to peck at John's firm hand.

"Good lad. Let's get this back to a fire. I'm starving."

Simon flapped his wings, hopping down into the fur of John's cloak, snuggling up and puffing out his feathers a little.

They trekked back through the snow with their meal, heading back to the cave opening where they'd been set up to hunt game for the last week.

Their leather bed rolls laid across from each other, the rocks pulled up around thee scorched wood of last night's fire.

John set the elk onto a rock, grabbing out his dagger. "Get the fire going yeah?" Ghost nuzzled his beak against John's neck and flapped down into the snow.

Tight leather shoes crunching to the snow. Ghost wrapped his arms around his body, the cloth scarf that wrapped around his neck, one end falling to end at his breast, the other wrapped over his nose. Hiding his pale complexion amongst the flurry of snow.

His eyes still resembling the sharp, cunning gaze of the crow. Nimble hands wrapped in leather picking up wood from under their small camp out and replacing the old logs.

He looked up at John, his large muscles flexing as he split open the elk. Stripping the intestines and skinning the top from the meat of the animal.

He grabbed their chipped rocks from by John's bedside, striking them over the fresh wood and watching them catch light.

"How long will that last us?" He finally asks before blowing on the starting sparks of the fire.

"A week or two if we eat wisely." John replied, throwing the skin into a pile next to the rest of their leather, which they would use to package and conserve the meat in the cold climate.

"How long do you suspect we'll be out here?"

"Long enough. Why? Wanting a vacation already?" John chuckles softly.

Simon scoffs, folding one knee up to his chin, poking the fire with their stick. "No, just wondering."

A gentle silence followed. The howl of the wind passing by their small alcove but never entering. And the occasional noise of John chopping up the fat of the animal.

It wasn't a long process, they'd done it before.

When John was ready he pulled off part of the pure thigh meat. The slick slabs from each side laying in the snow.

For now he'd leave it. So he took the pieces up and sat near Ghost on the small rock carve out, his leather sleeping pad cushioning his arse barely.

He got the metal hook and slipped one of the slabs of meat onto it. The flames in the pit sparkling, popping and reaching up to the meat. Blood dripped into the fire, making it sizzle and crackle.

Ghost watched it. Still poking his stick around in the fire aimlessly. John noticed, even Simon's small amount of feather coverage around his forearms, shoulders and ears were barely enough against the wind that passed.

He unclipped his heavy cloak, pulling the emblem away from his neck, catching Ghost's attention.

It was a silent exchange when he laid the cloak over Ghost's shoulders. Watching him slightly slump as the fabric engulfed his body into the warmth that John's own body had.

Ghost pulled it close, sinking into it while he watched the fire.

John's large muscular shoulders bare to the cold weather turned slightly red around his neck muscle, dusted with barely noticable freckles.

Ghost looked over at him, shifting a little closer. John hummed softly, feeling Simon's smaller body closer to him, "We'll head back to the village soon for proper rest."

Simon hummed, staring into the fire. "We can get some alcohol too.."

John chuckles softly. "And alcohol, bloody yes we're getting alcohol."

Simon looks up at him, leaning slowly against his side. "You're a dumb drunk."

"Mm, well I can say the same about you."

John tucked the cloak in tighter, pulling Ghost right against him, surprising the smaller man.

He huffed softly, looking away at the ground, but it was warm. John's large hand wrapped around him, holding him protectively. There was always something so nice about it.

His eyelids fluttered slightly, drooping and allowing himself to lean in further to the side of the steady man.

A branch snapped, making him sit back up straight again.

John's attention also moved to the opening of the cave, placing a firm hand on Ghost's thigh. "Easy, just the wind." He assured.

Ghost slowly relaxed, looking back over at the snow covered land once more to double check.

John's arm remained protectively around him, holding his thigh, letting Simon curl up closely to him.

John poked the fire with the stick, splashing more embers up onto the meat. The time slowly ticked away as it cooked.

The small amount of feather coverage on Simon's forearms bristled. One arm poking out from the cloak, crooning his neck to nip at the mashed feathers and preen them back into place with his teeth.

John thought it was adorable. Sitting with him in that peaceful moment. Getting some time to just relax. Knowing they'd be out here for hunting season quite a while. But they made a good team, that's for sure.

I was gonna do more but got a road trip and I love these two. This was what I could splurge onto the page. I want more 😭😭

[pippynsworld]

Local cryptid and reporter Sanderson on the scene

[alkern]

[amikoroyaiart]

'Promise me'

[yooo-lets-go]

Blade Runner 2049 ghostsoap anyone?