#M'eudail

[steam-powered-chaos]

Chapter 12 (Frozen Storm)

Orion sighed, turning his back to M’eudail, slipping his sword into its holster, attaching it to his belt, pulling out a flintlock pistol and a dagger, pausing to stroke his thumb gently against the red gem in the handle, before pushing them both into his belt and turning back to M’eudail, his eyes shadowed from the rising of the blue moon. He pulled his coat onto his shoulders, tensing when M'eudail touched his arm with a soft expression in his eyes, filled with pity and pain. "Orion... I'm sorry." Orion looked at him, kneeling down and cupping his face in his hands gently, fingers drifting over the smooth, cold scales of the mer's cheeks, before hugging him, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry about M'eudail... Come on, we're going to save your husband." The captain scooped M'eudail up, shivering as the mer's cold tentacles flailed and gripped around his waist for support, carrying him out onto the deck where the cool night air hit them both. The crew milled around, teeming with anticipation at the thought of a good bit of violence, and Orion looked up when his shoulder was tapped, eyes softening at the sight of his first mate. "Captain, I'll take care of the crew whilst you're gone... take care, please." He nodded, calling out his goodbyes to the crew, fully aware he may not make it out alive, before his eyes met familiar black ones. "Sunny Bashra." He shook her hand firmly, and the two shared unspoken words, before the captain lowered M'eudail into the water as the three set off, the mer drifting silently through the water, the human walking in the side-streets and alleys, and Orion, high above, walking across the roof, as they moved to the procession.

Helio was at the head, beside a stranger Orion didn't recognise, from the hood covering his face, and some of the crew, the ones that still supported the corrupted captain, carrying Skygg in a water tank, who lay curled up at the bottom, silent except for the occasional, mournful and tragic wail to the sky, and Orion noticed the way in which M'eudail tensed at the sound, looking ready to spring at the man harming his lover. The three continued to follow silently, as the oil lamps were turned on, as the festival began, and the captain hesitated. Could he really go back here? To the place which had only held suffering for him, to the place where his life had ended? But then again, he thought to himself, this was also the place where he became who he really was... A pirate, through and through. He shook his thoughts away, realising he had almost lost the trail in his pondering, skipping across a few roofs to catch up again. Confused crowds parted in the streets to let the group through, gawking curiously at Skygg as he hid his face behind his tail, and the stranger and Helio made their way to the main stage, right in the town square. The stranger said something to Helio that none of the group could quite catch, although it quickly became clear when Helio shoed the mayor off the stage, staring blankly into the shocked crowds, swaying on his feet slightly. Orion's eyes flicked towards M'eudail, where he had dove into a barrel to watch, shaking with anger, and then to Sunny, who had concealed herself in an alleyway, slowly drawing her sword. The stranger tapped the microphone, chuckling. "Is this thing on? Very good.. Now, everyone, you see this man before you! Once a proud, loyal pirate, turned corrupted by this merman's song! This alone, shows the danger magic has upon our society." The crowd muttered to each other, though Orion noticed with dismay some nods in agreement. He went to step forward, but paused himself, not wanting to ruin the plan now that they had come so far.

"However, my people, I know the cure to this man's ailment! The blood of this mer will cure him, and blood I shall give him, with this knife!" The stranger drew the blade, the ruby in the hull glinting in the moonlight, as a shadow passed over the rising moon. As he laughed, there were... cheers from the crowd, but not only that, but booing too, some having noticed the clouds slowly covering the moon, taking it as a warning from the goddess they were supposed to be celebrating. The stranger drew his pistol, shooting those who voiced their displeasure the loudest, pocketing it once again, as the cheers rose from the increasing fear. He grinned, and Helio silently reached into the tank, lifting Skygg by the tail and holding him up as he struggled to breath without the water's comfort around him. Then Orion gave the signal, lunging down from the roof and yelling a battle cry. M'eudail grabbed the nearest men, throwing them into the surrounding ocean, while Sunny kicked and slashed at anyone who tried to hold her down, and the captain made his way to the stage. He drew his gun silently, pointing it at the stranger, then at Helio, before he stopped. Helio's eyes, despite being tinted with a greenish sheen, still had that sad, desperate look to them, looking so familiar to the man who Orion used to- no- continued to love, and he began to lower his gun, sharing a silent look with the terrified merman at the front. "Kill him." He froze at the sound of the order from the stranger, and didn't have time to move before Helio jumped on him, holding him down and pressing his thumb deep into the still healing wound on his throat, as Orion struggled to push him off. He hit him with the back of the gun, and the two men stayed locked in the other's embrace, lips barely inches apart, before Orion let out a sob, his resistance faltering from the pain in his neck. Helio grinned, lifting the knife, and the captain realised that it was his anniversary gift, kept despite the pain the two had caused each other. As the corrupted captain stared down at his former husband, ready to drive the killing blow, he stopped, a tear slipping down his cheek and onto Orion's, mingling their tears together.

He shook his head, dropping the knife, before he was shoved aside by the stranger, kicking him in the chest and going to stab Orion in the heart, and Orion realised his hood had fallen. Thomas Stormturner stared at Orion with disgust, malice, and pure joy, and the two brothers could only stare at each other for a moment, one fearful, the other prepared to kill. Orion finally got an answer to his question, the answer he never got from his mother. His brother hated him, and now he was going to kill him. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping in pain as his brother forced them open again, hissing lowly. "Eyes open, dearest brother," He spat, "I want to see the full fear on your face when I kill you, and I want to see the light drain from those pretty eyes of yours.." He was torn away from Orion, as Helio grabbed Thomas, holding him down by the shoulders as he struggled and kicked. Skygg was laying on the stage, trying to crawl back into the tank. His throat has been cut slightly, in the confusion, and Orion noticed the blade driving into Helio's heart. He barely noticed the ragged scream of grief escaping his throat, as he could only watch in horror as Helio slumped, being pushed onto his back as his heart was cut out, ruby red and still pumping, lifted high by Thomas while he fled with Helio's heart in his hand, and Orion continued, to scream, not having noticed the blood slowly gushing from his leg where he had been slashed.

Orion Stormturner fell unconscious, leaving the battered, confused, but relieved to see that Skygg was now safe, three to carry him back to his ship in a hurry, leaving Helio's empty body behind to be collected after.

Thomas retreated onto his own ship, holding the burning hot heart in his hands, feeling how it continued to pump without its body, before he pushed it into a jar, chuckling, as he sailed away. He was victorious, and had gained a power far stronger than anything a mer's death could have given him.

After all, the heart of a god was not something to be trifled with.

[thewolfisawake]

They lay comfortably in bed together, and with Bal in his arms there was no other place Mhoirbheinn would rather be. The silence of the night enveloped them as they began to doze off. That was, until Mhoirbheinn spoke up.

“I’m certain I could find you another advisor. Surely he’s not that good. There must exist someone in the world better than him, and more pleasant too. It would be my pleasure to find and present them to you.”

Yes, he was still on about that.

Truly it felt as though peace could only be in the presence of his lover. It all quelled to a din as Balmoral could idly take in the other. The prospect of rest hadn't even felt dreaded. He nearly was lulled towards slumber when Mhoirbheinn spoke.

And instantly he felt sleep drain from him. Balmoral groaned as he shifted so he could better speak to him, "Och aye, but that would require finding a'body that willnae run t' their da from ye. And fir em t' not be a scunner t' ye. And ye convincing em t' come t' the Unseelie."

That alone was a tall order. But knowing his love, he'd at least try if it was a chance. Dragging a hand over his face and hair, Balmoral went on to say, "Ah have no patience t' teach someone aboot the Unseelie and their workings. And the time it'd take fir em t' understand how t' navigate with their own style. If we had someone with intimate knowledge of how a'body plays their games and how t' operate effectively and tirelessly, maybe. But need ah remind you, m'eudail, that most people with that knowledge...we slaughtered. And those with that kind of zeal, we eliminated. So no, we cannae find another adviser."

[saint-sebastian-coded]

uisge!!!

[sweatforged]

it  always  hit  differently  when  jesse  ...called  him  that.  faint  blush  on  scruffed  cheeks,  his  eyes  did  a  little  turn  of  avoidance  real  quick  before  they  found  the  other's  again.  little  grumble,  but  also  a  nod.  "fiiiine.  maybe  i  will.  no  promises,  though."  because  when  the  thinking  mood  struck,  silas  was  not  ...  well,  the  type  to  just  stop.  he  may  not  be  the  brightest  bulb  in  camp,  but  his  brain  liked  to  fumble  around  regardless.  that'd  somewhat  always  been  his  ...thing.  too  much  in  his  head,  too  few  words  coming  out  of  his  mouth.  though  jesse  never  complained,  so  ..  it  was  what  it  was.

it  was  so  peaceful  up  here  -  like  nothing  &  nobody  else  existed,  which,  in  a  camp  buzzing  with  life  most  of  the  day  ...  was  quite  relaxing.  part  of  him  really  liked  the  idea  that  he  didn't  have  to  worry  about  either  of  them  getting  dragged  away,  even  if  only  for  a  few  days.  he  did  not  think  it  was  smart  to  get  too  into  it  up  in  the  air,  but  he  trusted  jesse.  yeah,  he  did,  though  that  little  promise  breathed  against  his  ear  send  a  wave  of  shivers  down  his  spine.  "aight.  we  still  got  quite  a  bit  t'go."  slowly....  very  slowly...  did  he  pull  away,  though  his  hand  never  left  the  son  of  nyx's.

glancing  around  for  some  sort  of  coordination  attempt,  silas  nodded  to  himself  ever  so  quietly  &  continued  in  the  direction  he  thought  proper.  "promise  to  keep  what  you're  gonna  see  a  secret?"  he  rumbled  after  a  little  while,  wings  slowing  a  little  -  when  he  did,  too  -  to  look  back  at  the  other.  he  didn't  expect  jesse  to  go  around  telling  everybody,  but  at  the  same  time  it  was  ..  a  little  embarrassing  &  he  really  didn't  want  anybody  else  to  know.  not  yet  anyway.

silas was... certainly assertive that night, which is good, jesse wanted him that way, ready to take what he wanted. ready to ask for it, giving himself freely. and so he rewarded him, arms around him, mouths meeting. letting him pull at his lip before he tasted him once more, pulling at his growing hair. "then you should listen to me more readily and stop overthinking, m'eudail."

he nudged at him, noses brushing together, forehead against forehead before he pointed at the sky around them. high enough to hide from view, "go on, we can continue this later." lips brushing his cheek, moving up to his ear, "and don't worry about being seen. it's night time, we're only going to be seen if i wish to."

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Ghost: Johnny texted me “M'eudail, I am intoxicated” and then five minutes later, Gaz sent me a photo of him passed out on the floor, phone in hand, zoomed in on one of my pictures.

Ghost: I love him.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Oh em gee that post you made with the bunny reader where our tail was twitching was so cute! What if our tail was twitching because we are nervous around them? Maybe we broke something and were too scared to tell them?

Ghost noticed how your tail was twitching around him and at first he figured it was in excitement and happiness again, but then he started slowly realizing that you seemed anxious. You were flighty today, so worked up on making sure to stay on Ghost and Soap's good side.

Soap ended up being the one who asked you what was wrong, his voice warm and sweet as always when he spoke with you. One of his hands were gently playing with your bunny ears, the action soothing you enough to tell him.

You hadn't meant to break the vase in your guys' shared barracks this morning, you had just accidentally tripped while putting on your pants and you knocked over the table the vase was on, shattering the vase into pieces. You were so distraught at the thought of them being mad at you that you were so close to sobbing right then and there.

"Shh, love," Ghost said, taking you into his strong arms. "We're not mad, promise. A bit disappointed in ourselves that you thought we would be mad, but we're not mad. We're just glad you're not hurt."

Soap nodded in agreement, leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. "Yeah, m'eudail, we're not mad. Don't be afraid to tell us something because even if we do get mad, it's just best to communicate everything. We'll never not work it out together."

They then took you back to your shared barracks, sandwiching you in between them on the bed as they cuddled you to soothe you some more.

[jammiesjars]

omggg I love your story, can I request some more soap smut?? Where reader is a brat to soap

Anon, YOU GET ME BRO. YOU GET ME. (Original Post)

Warnings: Spanking, Dacryphilia if you squint, fingering, punishment, Dom!Soap, Sub!Reader, This man is a MENACE, lowkey a drabble so very short!!

Johnny doesn’t seem to… appreciate your lack of appetite.

Johnny's return from battle is something to celebrate, especially when he rides in carrying the heads from a band of thieves that terrorized the village for decades.

So when he's got his pretty little wife, sat in his lap, at the dinner table simply refusing to eat, he can't say he's happy.

"Johnny, seriously. I'm not hungry." You'd mumble, pushing the plate away once again. You're being honest; you're not. But to Soap? His poor wife is going to wither away in his arms and he won't let that happen. "And I'll tell ye again, M'eudail. Yer goin' to eat whether I feed ye or you be a good girl and do it yerself." He croons, his head resting on your shoulder. He reaches an arm out that was previously wrapped around your waist and drags the plate back over. "So which one is it, Lovie?"

That earns a groan from you. "Love, n-" Your protest is cut off by a chunk of meat being shoved into your mouth. Soap cradles the back of your head, the other hand keeping you from spitting the food out.

"Chew."

Christ, that tone. It stirs something warm in you, yet leaves no room for arguement. Demanding and harsh. You shake your head, a part of you wanting to piss him off and see just how far he'll take your out-of-line behaviour. Soaps eyes narrow at that shake of your head; its so unlike you to have to be told twice.

"Pushin' me buttons all damn night, Lassie. You tryin' to be a brat?" Soap asks, tilting your head back which forces you to swallow. "I come back from a month at battle, to a misbehaving wifey, aye? Do I have to keep an eye on you since you want to act so out of line?" His gaze is harsh, and you know you've done it now. He grabs another piece of meat off the plate in front of him.

"Open, woman. Dont make me ask again." He presses the chunk of meat to your lips, to which you reluctantly open. Soap tuts at your obvious disdain. "Last fuckin' chance, Lassie. Chew and swallow, or i'll do it for ye and drag you upstairs to be delt with." His gaze is trained on you; like a stalking predator.

and yet, you defy him again with a simple shake of your head.

He stands up, making you yelp as he slings you over his shoulder. "Swallow what's in yer mouth before we get upstairs, ye brat." He'd scowl, carrying you shamelessly out of the feast with a puffed chest. You swallow.

Soap unceremoniously sets you down, before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He pats one of his muscular thighs, barely covered by his kilt and corded in thick muscle. "C'mere lass." He orders, which has you scrambling to sit on his lap.

He stops you just as you sit down, tutting. 'Nae, lass. bend over my lap."

Suddenly, your attitudes gone. "Johnny, wait-"

"No, no, Lass. Ye wanna give me attitude? Atleast keep it up. Over my lap, now." He pats his thigh again. On shaky legs, you move yourself to bend over his lap. Soap hikes your skirts up over your hips, alongside yanking down the undergarments that thinly covered the rest of you. His hand glides over the supple skin of your ass.

"Ye know what's coming next, don't ye?" He clicks his tongue, his palm coming down and connecting with the flesh of your ass with a loud smack. Your body jolts forward and you dig your nails into his thigh for some feeble stability. He strikes again, hard enough for a slight sting to remain that he does nothing to soothe. "Apologise now and I might go easy on ye." He taunts, smacking you again.

"Mm- I'm sorry-" You're cut off by your own yelp when he strikes again, tears in your lower lash line. "I'm sorry Johnny!" You sniffle, pouting.

That pulls a mean scoff from Soap. "Pouting now, aren't ye? Tryna make me feel bad by callin' me Johnny in that sweet voice, huh?" He smacks again; harder. You whimper, a tear sliding down your cheek.

Soap groans at your sniffle, his hand resting against your ass, rubbing soothing circles.

"...Christ, Lass. Don't cry." Soap grunts, roughly pulling you up to straddle his lap. Calloused hands cup your cheeks as he wipes your tears. "Fuckin' gorgeous when ye cry, love." Soap coos, keeping your skirts hiked up around your hips as he does the same to his kilt. "Ye want me cock, birdie? Ye want to feel good?"

You pitifully nod, tears still trickling. "Please."

"Should've thought about tha' before you started actin' like a brat, then." Soap gives a nasty grin, parting his thighs for enough of a gap to press thick fingers up against your weeping cunt; gliding in with ease.

A pitiful moan passes your lips, ellicting a chuckle from Soap.

“Such a dirty lil slag, ain’t ye?” He coos meanly, leaving you to cling to his broad shoulders for any form of stability.

Despite his degrading words that make you pout and ass still stinging from his rough treatment, your cunt squelches with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

“To- Too much-“ you mindlessly babble, body trembling under his brutal ministrations.

“Ah ah ah, my pretty birdie wanted ta’ feel good, didn’t she?” He coos, scottish brogue heavy with lust. “Knew she was gonna get punished and kept testin’ me.”

“Please-“ you choke out, mind going hazy as your release is approaching quickly.

Then suddenly, nothing. Soap has pulled his fingers from you, chuckling so cruelly at the pitiful sob that passes your lips.

“Went easy on yer spankin’. Now you’ll take what I give ye until I know ye won’t be misbehaving anymore.”

[matchadobo]

KIDD; how does eustass kidd apologize after a petty fight

summary: read it in the title folks

warning/s: gn!reader, nsfw but not too in depth, fluff, hurt/comfort-ish

* it's just about him always leaving the toilet seat up and he wouldn't listen when you tell him not to, when he would coop up in his workshop and get snappy at you, when he'd be too busy to have some fun with you, or when his stuff is always disorganized and you nag him for it but he'd turn a deaf ear

* most of the times, if not all the time, he'd be keen on finding where you are

* looking all over the ship as he barges in on every door he sees until he finds you

* and when he does, he'd restrain himself from smiling when he sees your furrowed brows, puckered up lips, and flaring nostrils cuz he finds you so cute

* he'd expect that you would ignore him and you did, so he'd make sure to bug the shit out of you until you talk to him

* poking your cheeks, asking you incessantly about what you're doing, engulfing you in his arms from behind and leaning down against your ear

* "you still gonna ignore me? how long do you plan on doing that?"

* "man, here i was planning to take ya to that sushi place you were whining about."

* "ain't you cute when you're angry."

* just when you've had enough, you stood up, and ought to face him to give him a piece of your mind

* he'd lean down and kiss you, snaking his hands down your neck, to your shoulders, down to your arms and pulled your waist closer to his as he rubbed on the curve of your hips

* he'd be satisfied to let you go when he hears you whine

* "sorry." he'll say it right after he pulls away, and then place a kiss on your forehead. "still mad?" he'd say tucking a hair behind your ear

* once you're all hot and bothered, he'd pull you closer by your arm and place a hand at the back of your head as he embraced you

* "come on, doll. talk to me. it ain't like you to shut the fuck up once i'm talking, is it?"

* you however, can't muster out words from the warfare within your mind and heart. he'd always do this, one kiss and your anger's all gone. and the fact that he's learning to say sorry even when he's at fault for the littlest things tugged at your heart more than it rationalized your mind

* so you'd end up tearing up from the frustration and start drumming at his chest to emphasize your annoyance

* "j-just don't be an asshole next time."

* "ain't that my charm, m'eudail (darling)?"

* he'd kiss you one last time, this time with more hands since you already forgave him

* he'd slide his hands inside of your shirt and press the small of your back further to his body

* and then guiding your hands to roam around the span of his sinewy arms

* "we gonna go to that sushi place or have fun in here?" he smiled in between the kiss, watching you pant under him

* "let's just say, i need another apology from you before going there."

* he'd be generous enough to give head, being more sensual than rough like he used to

* he'd stroke your thighs more while eating you out

* he'd maneuever you to your side, earnestly looking at your eyes with each thrust

* fingers intertwined as he placed kisses on your forearms

* aaaaand you two end up not going bc you both took a long time shacking tf up, he really did makes it up to you though. always

i'm backkk but this is kinda short i'm sorrryyyssgsyshy just recovered from sickness and a pile of work whew

[inktailsaystuff]

Domestic Farm Fluff GhostSoap

TW: Use of Ghost and Soap’s real names, tooth rotting fluff, and my coping

-----------------------------

“L.T you awake?” His husband’s words filled his ears, the heavy Scottish accent lingering in the air.

“M’ not your lieutenant anymore Johnny.” Ghost mumbled sitting up in the bed, the weighted blanket felt nice as Ghost wrapped himself tighter in it. 

“Ah, yer righ’ but yer still mine.” Soap grinned, pressing a kiss to Ghost’s jaw. “Now come on we gots to work on our farm M'eudail.”

“Five more minutes luv.” Ghost’s heavy English accent thickened as he tried to keep his eyes open. However his husband had other ideas. “Oi-” Ghost grumbled as Soap flopped on top of him, the shorter man pressing kisses all over his face to wake him up. “Johnny stop.” Ghost growled as he tried to sleep.

“No can do Mo chridhe.” Soap chuckled. “Come on! We gots to go feed the hen’s and milk dem cows.”

“...Can you do that?” Ghost asked opening one eye to look at Soap.

“Simon, yer so lazy.” Soap grumbled trying to push his husband off the bed. “Come on yer lazy Gowk. Is yer turn to deal with roosters.” Soap grinned as he successfully managed to push Ghost off the bed, his husband landing on the wooden floor with a soft thud.

“Oh come on Johnny. Didn’ have to push me off the bed. Coulda just woke me up normally.” Ghost grumbled as he got up, his joints popping as he stretched. “You eaten already?” 

“Firs' already tried, yer didnt wan to wake up. Second yer trustin me to cook?” Soap grinned teasingly as he passed Ghost, one of his embroidered cloth face masks that just covered the bottom half of his face.

“...Never.” Ghost hummed as he looped the straps of his mask around his ears. “C’mon Johnny, I’ll go make breakfast.” Ghost decended the wooden stairacse down to the lower level of their farmhouse, the dark wooden walls comforting and warm, he loved this home, and not just because his husband also lived in it.

“Whatcha gonna make Simon?” Soap smiled as he followed after his husband watching as the larger man started to grab different ingredients. 

“Pancakes Johnny.” Ghost hummed as he poured the pancake mix onto a pan. “Sleep well?”

“Like a wee baby.” Soap chuckled as he rested his head in his hands, watching his husband cook. “Yer got a nice arse Simon.” Soap teased.

“Shut up Johnny.” Ghost looked over at Soap, “Or I’ll leave you without pancakes.” 

“Wait! M’ sorry Simon.” Soap made puppy eyes at him, pleadingly clinging to him. “Jus’ dont take away m’ pancakes.” 

“You know I can’t say no to you luv.” Ghost chuckled, lifting his mask to kiss Soap’s forehead.

“Ah know. An am gonna exploi’ it till death.” Soap grinned wrapping his arms around Ghost’s waist and clinging to the taller man as he watched Ghost flip pancakes. “Yer know a love yer right M'eudail?” Soap whispered as he pressed kisses to Ghost’s neck.

“I know Johnny. I know.” Ghost chuckled, wrapping an arm around Soap. 

“Good. I think yer should remember that Simon.” Soap smiled softly as he rested his head on Ghost's shoulder. The two happily staying in their kitchen as Ghost finished up the pancakes. 

Translations~ M'eudail- dear/darling Mo chridhe- my heart Gowk- Fool

[steam-powered-chaos]

Chapter 10 (Frozen Storm)

[Tw: blood, abuse mention]

Orion and M'eudail sat together, a fish in M'eudail's clawed, webbed hands, and a bowl of soup in Orion's. The two men sat in comfortable silence, a magical flame burning between them and lighting up the quarters, whilst not catching fire to any of the wood and Orion's gaze drifted to his bedside cabinet, the key still in the lock. The mer's gaze shifted to follow where he was looking, reaching out with a tentacle to open it whilst the captain was distracted. Orion gently pulled the tentacle away with a soft sigh, unlocking it himself and pulling out a simple, gold band. “My wedding band.” He passed it to the mer, who held it gently, turning it over in his fingers and examining the sun marking that was etched into it, drifting one webbed finger over it carefully, before passing it back to the Captain. The two men sat together in a comfortable silence, hands almost interlocking but not quite. The door to his quarters was rapped upon gently, and Orion lifted his head, smiling at the sight of his first mate Sirius, even if he couldn't see it, but then fell at the worried look on his face, standing. "Captain, the uh.. first mate of the Sunfall is here to speak with you, she says it's urgent..." The captain buried his head in his hands with an exasperated sigh, patting Nana and putting his coat on, putting the wedding band back into the cabinet and closing it. M'eudail nodded to him, waving as he left and drying his hand so he could stroke the cat gently while he was gone. Rain was pattering across the deck, Orion nestling his head into his coat a little more on instinct, Sunny standing by the front mast, waiting for him. Worry was etched onto her face, and there was a prickle along the back of his spine. Something was deeply, terribly wrong. She nodded to him. "And what can I do for you, Bashra. " Though his eyes were narrowed with suspicion, his voice held warmth, kindness, care for the girl even if her loyalty was to Helio. Sirius shuffled to stand beside him, holding onto Orion's shoulder both to steady himself, and know where he was, his sightless eyes unfocused and staring at the sea.

"It's the Captain, our Captain. Something's... wrong with him, real wrong. He's been covered in this green stuff since last night, he threatened to attack one of the crew and-" Orion cut her off gently. "Slow down. So you say he's been covered in this green... stuff? Do you know what it is?" He questioned, and Sunnty shook her head softly, still looking worried, as Orion sighed, taking her hand gently. "And you think it's making him act erratically, yes?" She nodded quickly. Orion sighed heavily, nodding as well and exiting the ship, Sunny Bashra in tow as the two walked to the Sunfall in silence, Sunny's silence sourced from worry, and Orion's silence sourced from both fear and concern. The walk seemed to take hours, each footstep feeling like a minute as the ship came into view, the golden flag flapping madly in the early storm winds atop the highest mast. "Thank you for coming with me..." Sunny began, adjusting her sleeves slightly. The captain glanced at her from the corner of his eye, the tiniest smile pricking at his lips quickly, before he returned his gaze to the path ahead, watching as they passed rows of shopfronts already decorated for the festival, a painful reminder for Orion. "Wasn't an issue. You were good to come to me." Finally, they came to the ship, Orion hesitating for a moment, trying not to show his fear. He was afraid, of course he was, for himself and for Helio. Despite whatever he tried to do, how he tried to scorch those lingering feelings, through sex, through whatever projects he tried to keep himself busy was, those feelings were impossible to shake away from his mind, he still cared for him, loved him even.

But he would never admit that.

He took the step onto the deck of the ship, feeling the wind wobble it under his feet, and he steadied himself on the edge, grabbing onto it. "Orion! You came back, he was right!" Helio jumped down from the ship's wheel, and landing heavily in front of him. He went to grab him into a tight hug, leaning to kiss him, which Orion very quickly backed out of, folding his arms. As Sunny had said, Helio's mouth and the front of his waist coat was stained with something dark green, his eyes wide and manic, filled with both fear and... something else, something darker. He paused, before laughing, slapping his shoulder roughly. Orion did not return the smile, but the worry in his eyes stayed. Sunny was right. Helio was a hotheaded man yes, with a nasty temper to rival Orion's, but he would never act like this, never. "Mind informing me what's going on, Frostheart?" He tried to keep the concern out of his voice, keeping a stern, almost disgusted tone. Helio's smile fell immediately, his eyes narrowing. Fury replaced the joy in his eyes, and he took a single step towards Orion, before his eyes flicked to Sunny silently. There was a silent threat there, briefly. "I just wanted you to see how much stronger I am, and I'll be even stronger with you by my side again..." He went to circle an arm around Orion's waist, but was quickly shoved away as Orion scoffed. "And how? By smearing paint on yourself?" He mocked, regaining his composure quickly. Helio gave him a fiery glare, before snatching his arm, yanking him down into his quarters, muttering to himself wildly, "You'll see... oh you will.." He trailed off with a dark little chuckle, unlocking the door and flinging it up.

Dark green stained the wall and floor, leading to a large tank where Skygg lay, weak. His neck was exposed, the wound hastily wrapped in cloth, and his eyes travelled up to stare at Orion. And the captain knew exactly who this was, and his suspicions were confirmed, horrifyingly. He fell to his knees, trying to go to the merman, but Helio stepped in front quickly, blocking him as Orion gave him a furious glare, snarling at him and baring his teeth at his former love. "You monster." He spat, "How could you do this? He's innocent! He's going to die, what if he had a family?" The taller man gave him a pleading look, begging Helio to understand, to stop this madness and free Skygg, but Helio only gave him a measured, satisfied look in return, though it faded as he saw the fear, the pain in his eyes. But he couldn't go back, not now, not now he was too far gone. He shook his head silently, and Orion stood, looking ready to draw his sword. "Please, don't..." Skygg pleaded, and Orion put his sword away, glancing back at him with a knowing look. The mer nodded in understanding, and Orion stepped away, shaking his head at Helio in disgust. He shoved past his former husband, glancing at Sunny with a sad, apologetic look, leaving the ship. He only paused upon hearing her pained yelp, before breaking into a run. He stayed solemnly silent as he came back to M'eudail, and his face told him everything.

The mer and the captain cried together, holding each other close, as Orion prepared to fulfil his promise to him, no matter what it took.

Blood trickled into Sunny's eye as she watched Helio slam back into his quarters, fingering the new slice that went through her eyebrow and cheek, whispering a silent prayer that he had missed her eye by inches. The crew surrounded her, and she stood, before silently walking to the hull of the ship, watching the waters below, thinking of a plan to stop the man she loved as a father.

[thewolfisawake]

"The guards here are either weaklings or sniveling bugs who lack spines. How exactly are they supposed to protect your life, Bal, if even a single glare from me is enough to set their pathetic legs trembling?" Not the usual pillow talk that one might imagine, Mhoirbheinn's finger winding around a strand of the other's hair, but it was an issue that had bothered him for some time. The gentleness of the action was at odds with the sharp annoyance in his tone, and the man frowned. "They may be good for meat shields, but that seems to be as far as their usefulness goes."

"Eh? Ah didnae ken ah was so delicate t' need heavy safekeeping," Balmoral teased as he sprawled along the bed. He resisted a hum of contentment from him playing in his hair, "Ah'm no worried about protection. It's not what ah think of them fir. Meat shields, sure, but the way ah see, they're like the props t' sell this king business. That and well, the running of the palace is a lot of jobs. Even if ah dinnae need but a bit fir food, a bit t' bathe, and a bit to lay my head. Appearances, ah think you might call it."

He shifted to face Mhoirbheinn, his eyes unabashedly drinking in his lover's pure resplendent form, "But ah think it's a tad unfair t' that lot t' have it be against you fir a standard. Ah dinnae ken if you're aware, m'eudail, you're quite the beast t' face. Even hardened soldiers quiver running into you. Ah'm surprised they didnae give up the ghost when you approach. But if it concerns you that much, how no you give 'em a little shaping up? A sparring sesh fir them to take you on? Maybe a' at once could be some excitement this place needs."

[captain-mj]

Honestly a tradegy that the fandom has so many "possessive ghost/ ghost kidnaps soap" but none of soap being the kidnapper I think it would be fun! Very much feel soap would be more of a "taking you for your own good" sorta guy

(Are there any fics like this and if yes PLS link)

I have zero clue if there are any BUT I can make one

Ghost never, ever drank with people if he could avoid it. After the military wouldn't let him back in after Roba, he spent so much of his life trying to drink it away.

Soap was no different. The only difference was that he happened to be his bartender.

After a while, Soap managed to break down some of his walls. Soap just... got him. He was so nice and there was something about him that put Ghost naturally at ease.

And it's the biggest reason why waking up restrained and without his mask felt so much like a betrayal.

Soap looked at him, serene. So gentle.

Ghost tried to jerk himself forward to strangle him but it only bent his back harder. It hurt.

"It's okay, Simon. Not going to hurt you."

"Fucking bastard. Did Roba put you up to this? He pay you?" Ghost spat out, suddenly very very scared. He couldn't handle it. He'd kill himself first. What they were doing in Manchester?

His family.

Oh god, Tommy and Joseph and Beth and his Mom.

"Who's Roba?" Soap tilted his head, fluffy mohawk getting in his eyes. "Nothing like that, m'eudail. How often do you leave the house?"

Ghost glared. "I don't know."

"6. Every night except Tuesday night, you come to the bar. You have your food delivered. You work out in your home. Your mom visits you on Wednesdays which is why you don't come to the bar on Tuesdays. It's so you won't be hungover when she comes, right?"

Ghost stared at him. "You've been stalking me."

Soap smiled. "For months. Watched your every move. You don't take good care of yourself."

Ghost started to take deep breaths, realizing how well he was played. "I... I..."

"It's okay. I promise. I would never hurt you, Simon." He ran his hands through Ghost's hair, gently touching each bleached strand. "Do you dye your hair so you don't look like your father?"

Ghost physically couldn't cry. Instead, he shook until he thought his bones would shatter.

Soap winced. "I'm going to undo some of the ties so you can get in a more comfortable position. You're not going to try to escape, ya understand? You're in a cabin in the middle of the Scottish wilderness."

Ghost let him slowly rearrange him, feeling helpless. Being out of the military and also still being injured meant it was hard to really keep his skills up. He had barely started to bulk back up.

The bed underneath him felt... nice though. Far more comfortable than anything Ghost had ever had.

"I spent a lot of money on this cabin. Had some rich family members die." Soap grinned and Ghost knew for a fact Soap killed them. "So, you're going to be safe here. No more worries. No more fears."

Ghost shuddered and rolled on to his stomach, hiding his face.

"I don't mind your scars. No need to hide those from me."

Ghost choked down something harsh mixed with bile.

"You're not getting your mask back. Don't make me tie you to the bed. I want to see your face."

Ghost slowly adjusted, taking deep even breaths. He was going to die here. The one person he thought was his friend betrayed him.

"There you go, m'eudail." He continued to stroke Ghost's hair until he eventually fell back to sleep, weighed down and likely still drugged.

When he woke back up, his arms were tied behind his back and he was leaning against the headboard. There was a small tray in front of him with some food.

Soap smiled at him. "I'm going to have to feed you. Can't trust you not to try to kill me." He got a spoonful of the soup he had made and offered to Ghost.

Ghost glared at him. "No."

"Simon. Be a good boy for me." Johnny purred, using the same voice he made in the dead of night when he encouraged a very drunk Ghost to drink some water.

Slowly, he opened his mouth, shamefully letting Soap feed him.

It was delicious. Tasted better than the cheap stuff he had been getting. Anything he couldn't microwave was usually out. He just... couldn't bring himself to cook. Soap picked up on his disappointment when it was gone.

"I'll make you more, okay?" Ghost nodded and Soap touched his face, making him squirm. "I can't wait for when I trust you enough to untie you. I promise, I'll take such good care of you."

Ghost looked at him and nodded. Maybe if he played along, it would be easier...

Later that night, Soap got a gun out. He undid Ghost's binds and motioned for him to go to the shower. Ghost followed him, watching the gun warily. Soap clearly had training, knowing exactly how to avoid getting close enough for Ghost to yank it from his hands. He also kept the gun aimed at his legs so it wouldn't kill Ghost if he shot.

Ghost cleaned himself up, enjoying the smell of the soap. It was... pine? He wasn't sure. Once he was done, he pulled the towel into the shower, refusing to let Soap see him.

Soap had gotten him a t-shirt and some sweatpants. They had a skull design on it that he liked a lot. As awful as it was, Soap clearly knew exactly what Ghost liked.

Ghost obediently let Soap tie his hands back together before Soap put him to bed. He sank into the luxury of the blankets and sheets.

Soap got in bed next to him and Ghost was already stepping outside of his body. It wasn't that bad if he dissociated early.

But Soap did not start to undress him. Didn't tug his pants down or get handsy. He didn't even touch him.

Nights were easily the best. Ghost had plenty of time to himself and Soap never touched him at night. He also put rain sounds on at night. It helped him sleep.

The withdrawals hit fast. His steady diet of alcohol and the painkillers he was prescribed for his.... entire body honestly. Soap was so sweet the entire time, knowing exactly how to help even though he refused to give him the drugs or the alcohol to make it stop.

Ghost felt lips against his forehead as Soap checked his fever. "Don't touch me like that."

"Just checking your temperature, Simon. You're so warm. I'm worried." He gave him more acetaminophen and gently pet his hair. "You're going to be okay."

Ghost grimaced as he moved. His vision turned fuzzy as the fever got worse. "Don't let the skeletons get me."

"the skeletons?"

"Yeah. They haunt my dreams. Roba made them."

"Who is Roba?"

Ghost swallowed. "He raped me. A lot. He kept me locked up."

Soap winced. "I'd never. Ever. I promise. I just want to love you, Simon." He put a wet rag over his forehead, trying to cool him down.

"I know. You wouldn't do that to me." Ghost smiled serenely, even as the world spun. Soap stayed next to him, protecting him from the night terrors and fever induced hallucination until he managed to get through it all.

He kept waiting for the other shoe to fall. Ultimatums or forcing himself upon him.

Soap never did. He had such soft hands that fed him and tied him looser and looser until one day he didn't bother.

"If you kill me, I'll be happy knowing I got to spoil you as long as I could."

Ghost didn't even try. The only difference was he (usually) fed himself. He had gotten spoiled and they both knew it.

Soap was gentle when he tried to ask Ghost if he wanted more. It was soft. Just a slight brush of his hands on Ghost's thigh before he grabbed Ghost's hand and held it. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Ghost wanted to say yes. Stupidly. But if he broke, he knew Soap would take whatever he wanted. Despite how good Soap was, he was still anxious. Unreasonably so.

It was absolutely reasonable. Soap was a kidnapper.

Soap nodded when Ghost turned him down and it didn't get brought back up. They watched movies on the couch and Ghost waited by the door whenever Soap had to leave and occasionally they went outside. It was winter and very cold so they didn't do it very often.

Ghost was spoiled and that's why when Soap slipped his shirt off to shower, he touched him. Tracing the tattoos on his back. Enjoying the feeling of him warm beneath.

"Your fingers are freezing." Soap commented, leaning into him. "Having fun?"

Ghost lightly leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "Yes. I am."

[under-cotton-and-calicos]

Fungi and Fae

NB Fae x AFAB Reader

AN: I wrote this last year while I was in the mood for fall. I'm a bit late for Valentine's but here's some fluff (and smut later in part two)!

Word count: 1.6k

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊Part Two (to be updated)𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You are looking devilishly beautiful today, m'eudail." 

"I appreciate it." You mutter, eyes scanning your surroundings for brown caps or yellow growths. After years of gathering, you have grown quite adept at it. 

“Won’t you spare me even one glance?”

The autumnal rain serves as a wonderful humectant for mushrooms- they come bursting forth from the ground and wood in vivid browns, yellows and striking black, well, the edible ones at least. A few of the local birds migrate for the season, leaving the woods serenely quiet. In their place, papery field maple seeds dance through the air like a set of wings carrying invisible bodies. Shades of red and orange permeate the woods, and even though you have looked out at the sea of colour countless times, the intensity of their hue and atmosphere always takes your breath away at the beginning of the season. It is your favourite time of the year, and it would always be much more enjoyable if it weren’t for your buzzing companion.

“I attended the most wonderful ball the other day, yet it was sorely lacking in good company. Would that you were there-”

“Your kind would have made me dance to death. Literally.” You quip, hiking your skirt up and stepping over a dead log. Conversation, if you could even call the slinging of words between the two of you, comes as naturally as breathing to you in the presence of Aetyn. Your grandmother had warned you about their kind since you were but a babe, cautioning you against their trickery. You were glad that she had trained you on how to handle them as it came into good use whenever you came out to forage.

Never accept gifts. Don’t stare at them for extended periods of time. If you encounter one, be gracious but maintain a boundary. You leave offerings of cream and pasties out for them, and wear a bell in the ribbon tying your hair.

After years of being around Aetyn, however, you have come to doubt the veracity of several claims. In the beginning they had attempted to ensnare you in all sorts of ways, fairy rings, gifts in the form of decadent chocolates and precious gems, wordplay. It all flowed over you like water. You presume that they gave up after the first two autumns.

Early on, you had accidentally gazed at them. It was hard not to- they have fine features so different from those of humans. It was as if fae were sculpted from marble, perfect and polished. Their smooth skin, hooked and noble nose as well as their androgynous beauty caught your gaze like a fish to bait. Nothing happened to you though, they just stared at you quizzically and asked if they had something on their face. Nonetheless, you still remain slightly guarded around Aetyn.

“Aetyn, would you ever consider chasing after a more naive, vulnerable maiden?” He’s quiet for a few seconds. You can almost hear the little cogs turning in his head.

“...but they don’t have your sharp tongue, or your bewitching-”

With a gasp, you clamber over to a massive queen bolete, brushing leaves and dirt from its cap before plucking it, its stem breaking from the earth with a satisfying crunch. You place it into your basket among a handful of porcinis, morels and chanterelles. Before you can stand and continue, you notice Aetyn laying belly-down on the grass with their head in their hands, long pink hair ostentatiously trailing down their shoulder.

“You have a look in your eyes when you find a good one. You smile so wide-” they have a sparkle in their eyes, you think you see their legs kicking in the air

“You’re so pretty.”

For some reason, the compliment feels oddly genuine, different from the other pet names that he piles onto you. Sensing the heat rising up your neck you look away, fussing with the mushrooms in your basket and wandering off to the clearing ahead. You’ve gotten used to Aetyn’s careless flirtation- they had used it as a tactic to trick you so you never take it to heart. Something about the look in their eyes strikes a chord within you this time, though. A jumble of strange, foreign emotions stir in your chest, so preoccupied are you with your thoughts that you make a near fatal mistake.

“Be careful!” 

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your midriff and tugs you backward. You’re leaned forward, torso tipped precariously over a circle of mushrooms. Gingerly, Aetyn gathers you into their arms, pulling you upright and a few steps away from the fairy ring.

“It wouldn’t do for you to fall into the snare of another fae now would it?” In the circle of their embrace, you are acutely aware of their body against yours even through your shirt and your coat. Your eyes are drawn to their lashes- pink just like their hair, so fair that you had never noticed just how long they were, fanning across their rosy cheeks. Aetyn’s gaze trails down the features of your face and lands on your mouth, hands sliding down your shoulders to your wrists. The feeling of his skin on yours is surprisingly humanlike, soft and comforting, but what ever made you think it would be otherwise? The urge to say something…or to do something-

A light ring and plink snaps you out of your reverie. Tearing your eyes away from them, you twist around to see your ribbon and bell on the ground. Aetyn steps away from you, the usual ease and gracefulness gone from their lithe body. They bend over, picking the delicate ribbon up. Your fringe has come loose, the two neat braids threaded to the back of your head by your grandmother undone.

“May I?” Aetyn pushes back the hair that obscures your vision. You nod, taking a seat on a cushion of brown leaves.

Their fingers carting through your hair are tender, deft as they expertly do up the braids and secure them once more. It feels…good. The warmth of their fingers, which you have watched pointing and gesturing many a time, seeps into your scalp. For once, the two of you are silent and you realise that you are wholly unaccustomed to the quiet whenever Aetyn is around. You’ve just grown used to their chatter like the tweeting of a little bird hovering over your shoulder. 

“It is done.” 

You are unable to see it, so you run a hand over the back of your head and feel the braids just as they were when you left home. They really are surprisingly good at it. Your tongue slips loose, from the intimacy in that moment or the fluttering in your chest, you do not know.

“Thank y-” You slap a hand over your mouth, unable to stop the panic from bubbling and frothing over. You look at Aetyn warily but regret it in the exact same moment, because you can see your distrust reflected in their eyes. The wide grin plastered onto their face falls and they look away from you. Whatever little shreds of trust that they’d hoped to have built up with you had blown away in the wind, they must think. 

It’s the first time that you’ve seen them look hurt and the sight claws at your heart. A few moments of unbearable quiet pass before you dust off your skirt and pick up your basket.

“I-I think that’s all I need for today.”

As the both of you walk through the lush woods, your mind is racing. With just one move, you’ve upended any semblance of kinship you shared with Aetyn. What were you going to do? Do you even want to do anything about it?

Just as you near the bend leading to your home, you come to the panicked conclusion that it would be awful to end the day this way. Aetyn has had every opportunity to capture you with trickery today, yet spurned it each time. Considering the seasons of your…relationship, you feel like you have shunned them. Summoning courage, you take a deep breath before spinning around so abruptly that Aetyn jumps.

“Today…was nice.” you bumble, acutely aware of how awkwardly your mouth forms the syllables. Your free hand twists the fabric of your shirt hopelessly.

“It was nothing. I am honoured to have your company.” They respond politely with a smile, eyes downcast. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish for a few seconds before

“Th…Th-thank you!” As soon as the two words leave your mouth, you squeeze your eyes shut.

This is it. I’m sorry for being such a foolish girl, grandmama.

What feels like an eternity passes and yet, you haven’t somehow been turned into a beetle, or been bound to servitude to a diabolical fae for the rest of your meagre mortal life, or anything really. It was quite anticlimactic. 

Instead, you feel a rush of warmth in the air and the bristle of tree branches bustling against their neighbours and the sweet call of a bird somewhere. And you hear laughter- Aetyn’s laughter, bright and rich which makes your chest brim with weight and ache. 

Your eyes still closed, a hand tugs gently against the nape of your neck and a pair of feather-soft lips plant a kiss on your brow.

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He cradles your face in his hands. You feel compelled to lean into them but you remain rooted in place.

“Thank you.”

You place your basket on the kitchen counter, moving to don your apron and get started on dinner when your grandmother shambles into the room with her cane in hand.

“That’s a pretty flower in your hair,” she squints through the glasses perched on her nose, “wherever did you find it at this time of year?”

A hand flies to the back of your head, fingers tangling with little stems and soft, small flowers tucked into your braids. Your heart beats like the wings of a hummingbird.

“Oh my.”

Your grandmother peers at you with mirth.

“You have the look of someone in love, dear.”

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Thinking hard about Soap casually calling Ghost "m'eudail" (my darling, my dear) and the lieutenant is totally unaware of the meaning behind the word so Ghost just accepts it as another weird quirk of his sergeant.

But one day Soap gets him a book with Scottish slang, not knowing that the word is explained there.

And when Ghost learns the meaning:

1) He has the revelation of his life.

2) He starts to call Soap m'eudail too- much to his amusement.

[call-of-duty-incorrect-quotes]

Overheard at Lieutenant Riley’s office.

Soap: Single-digit bedtime tonight, m'eudail?

[8-rae-rae-8]

May I please request,,,, a itty ghost hurt/comfort (heavy on comfort) w cg soap? The demons got to me today and I can’t stop thinking about baby si just being inconsolable until soap comes and picks him up and gently rocks him-

-💖

YES U MAY

1.4k words

It was a bad day. A bad emotion day, as the 141 fondly called it. There were small disagreements that turned to full on arguments simply because Ghost metaphorically woke up on the wrong side of the bed. As far as the rest of them could see, he just needed to de-stress, they couldn’t see the darker eye bags underneath the eyeblack and mask. He needed what he refused to ask for; gentle love, care and rest. But mostly less stress. Johnny was right there, waiting for him to slip so he could catch him with open arms.

All day was spent mostly walking on eggshells until Simon crashed. 

Crashed. Not slipped. 

The man crashed in bed. Curled up into as tight of a ball as he could manage, and he slept. The nightmares clawed his brain till he tossed and turned loud enough to alert others. It was Soap who rushed in the second he was aware of the worrying sounds of the beds movement and the shuffling from behind the closed door. 

Upon entering, it was clear just how distressed Ghost was in his sleep. His mask damp at the neck and forehead with sweat. Small whimpers fell from his lips, grumbles low in his chest added to the trembling of his shoulders. His eyeblack smudging away after each movement of his head that pulled his mask with it. A pillow was held tightly to his chest. 

In an instant, as if he sensed Johnny’s presence, Simon jolted off of the pillows. Tears welled in his eyes, his eyes jumping from spots around the room until he saw Soap near the door. The sobs then fully came out, reaching out and grasping at air. 

“Buu-uh-bba!!” He cried, the tears mixing with sweat and eyeblack that eventually soaked the eye of his mask. Simon grabbed at the air near Soap, cries only growing louder.

Johnny looked frazzled at the sudden cry and change in position, then again, he knew just how bad Simon’s dreams could mess with him. He could only imagine the hell that was happening in his head. He stepped forward and quickly scooped Simon into his arms. Even as tall and heavy as Ghost was, Soap couldn’t ever say no. He even went to the lengths to buff himself up enough to hold the little one and still be comfortable. 

“Bubba’s here, Bubba’s got ye.” Soap softly settled Simon in his arms, all gentle love. Kisses were placed on Simon’s masked face as Johnny rocked him slowly. 

Inconsolable for minutes at a time, Johnny barely managed to get his mask off and a pacifier in his mouth before he rushed to grab the rest of Simon’s regressing gear. A diaper was a must. Especially after a nap with nightmares. Holding Simon was certainly a task while the little one cried and cried.

Laying him down was even more of a nightmare. 

Simon practically screeched as he was laid down, nonsense babbles of jumbled words came from him the second he was placed down. Lots of ‘up��s, and ‘bubba’s. 

The little one didn’t quite see that he needed to be padded up in times like this. But Johnny worked fast, even with Simon kicking his weak, tired, legs. He was padded up in just a few minutes then Simon was back in his arms. Just a hoodie on to cover him, his hoodies being on the baggy side helped with that. Soap rocked with Simon in his arms, slow and stable movement.

“I know.. Bubba’s got ye now. It’s all okay..” Soap placed soft kisses along Simon’s face, wiping away the tears though it smudged the eyeblack. 

Simon’s cheek mushed against Soap’s palm the moment he was close enough to get that contact. His cries became a bit more muted as the contact persisted. Johnny’s hand stroked away each tear that fell down his cheek.

“Yeah.. Bubba’s here.” Johnny whispered softly. “You’re so brave, M'eudail.. So brave facin’ those nightmares all on yer own, hm?” He praised as he kissed his nose.

A weak giggle was given to the kiss, teary and glassy eyes peering up at Johnny. The darkness in the corners of his eyes began to fade, brushing away all those monsters from his perception.

“Yeah! Bubba’s so proud of ye, ‘m so so proud.” The carer grinned down at Simon. “My wee lad.” He cooed.

Simon tearily looked up at him, tears steadily dripped down his cheeks till a stop. He babbled quietly up at Soap, putting his fingers in his mouth to chew on. The tears stained his cheeks with smudged eyeblack. He blinked up at him.

“Ah,” Johnny tsked as he chuckled, “No chewin’ on yer fingers, Si.” He removed the little one’s hand from his mouth, leaning over to the side table of the bed to grab Simon one of his pacifiers from the drawer. Seeing Simon calm down so quick just from being rocked by him warmed his heart.

The pacifier was gently popped into his mouth, and Johnny slowly began to sit down with him on the side of the bed. It only took a second for Simon to start fussing at that. The pacifier bobbed in his mouth as he began to wiggle in his lap. 

“Ye just wanna be rocked, is tha’ it, cutie?” Johnny fondly shook his head. He grunted as he stood up with Simon, rocking him slowly once again. 

It worked quickly, Ghost quieted down and rested his head down on Soap’s chest. Just over his heart like always, listening to the steady beat like it was a lullaby. 

“Yeah… ye just wanna rock with me, hm?” He kissed his head gently. He could clean Simon’s face later, he just needed the boy to be comfortable before he added any tasks to their day. 

“Bubba…” Simon babbled behind his pacifier, blinking up at him. One of his hands rested gently on Soap’s chest as he played with the fabric by rolling it between his fingers.

“What’s up, lad?” Johnny softly bounced him to get him in a more comfortable position for the both of them. He smiled down at Simon, giving a gentle hum of encouragement. 

Simon didn’t quite respond, huffing a little and nuzzling up to him instead. He grabbed a fistful of Johnny’s shirt to hold tightly. 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, Mo ghraidh.” Soap kissed his head. He never stopped rocking him, swaying happily with Simon in his arms as he occasionally took a few steps to keep up with movement. 

“Bubba p’omise..?” Simon murmured, hardly intelligible behind the pacifier.

“Bubba promises.” Johnny assured him. A sweet grin spread across his face as he watched Simon melt against him at that. “I’ve got ye, love, rest those eyes.” He rubbed his back in slow motions.

He couldn’t quite say no to that. Simon closed his eyes, despite fighting it the whole time. He kept his head firmly pressed against Johnny’s chest, listening for both the rumble of his voice and his heartbeat.

When his eyes shut, there wasn’t anything scary waiting to grasp him from the safety of his carer’s arms. Instead, he found warmth and safety in the void of nothingness. No hands dared to pull him under the water, nothing shouted to him, nothing clawed at him. It was all safe instead. Soap’s soft murmuring of sweet words and assurances kept him afloat, he even got a few kisses.

Sleep was far away. That wasn’t the intention. He removed the stressful excess stimuli that kept his head running a mile a minute and simply trusted that Johnny would keep him safe. To watch out for him. And he always did, always had his six.

“I love you, Si.” He heard Soap whisper to him while gently pressing their foreheads together. 

Simon felt his gentle breaths against his face, relaxing further at the close proximity. Rather than forcing the words out, he babbled happy, but sleepy, nonsense in response. Of course with a goofy little smile as well, he couldn’t help it.

“There’s a smile..” Johnny purred, pulling back a little before planting a kiss to his nose. 

The little one babbled quietly before he simply hummed. He comfortably settled, deep breaths filling his lungs again. 

As always, Soap caught him when he fell. Picked him up when he broke. Ran to him when he was distressed and fixed him right up. Made the world right again.

This will probably be uploaded to ao3 later today !!