#THE END!!!

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 10 - The END! (almost)

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Epilogue

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // CW: Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers

---

Watching Johnny launch himself at Makarov is like staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. The blue of Johnny's eyes through the helmet visor burn with rage, and though the emotion isn't meant for Ghost, he can't help the way his body instinctively tries to dodge the attack.

It doesn't matter. He's too slow. The impact sends them all sprawling across the rooftop, and Johnny scrambles on top of Makarov to smack something out of his hand.

It's not until the small, bright green thing skitters across the roof and cracks against the brick wall of the roof access, bright green seeping out to pool around it, that it finally clicks.

Johnny tackled Makarov to save Ghost.

Makarov screams in frustration... and then grunts in pain as Johnny's fist connects with his face. At the same moment, a bullet punches Ghost's plating into his ribs, and he finally takes his eyes off Johnny long enough to aim his weapon.

The remaining soldier seems to have some back up now — probably people waiting in the wings in case Johnny proved too much for the small team. Johnny is wailing on Makarov, punch after punch accompanied by a growling scream gone tinny from the helmet speakers, but Ghost's heart jumps into his throat as he realizes Johnny is also still in the firing line. Ghost's return fire is keeping their adversaries cautious, and they won't dare take too many shots because of Makarov being in the way. 

But there are already at least two dents in Johnny's helmet. Who knows how many more bullets have hit his armor, leaving vicious bruises at a minimum and possibly causing internal bleeding from the impacts. As high tech as the armor is, Johnny can't survive a full-out onslaught of gunfire.

Another bullet hits Ghost's plating, this time right over his newly-healed bullet would. Ghost growls, dodges behind cover, and sets his sights on the remaining soldiers.

"Johnny! Get to cover!"

The rage dims, and a bit of lucidity seeps back into Johnny's eyes. He doesn't respond, but he rolls both himself and Makarov until they're behind the brick wall of the stairwell entry. Makarov is struggling in earnest now, and Ghost's heart rate ratchets up a few more desperate thumps per minute. He leans out of cover just as one of Makarov's team does and shoots the soldier right between the eyes. He ducks back under the spray of shattering brick where his face used to be. He switches to the broad channel to hear Laswell using her stern voice in the comms.

"Ghost. Soap. This is Watcher-1. Report in now. That's an order. Over."

"Watcher-1, this is Ghost. Makarov is on the roof with me and Johnny. We're under fire. Requestin' immediate backup."

Another soldier pops out from behind an AC unit as Ghost leans around the corner, and Ghost fires. The man drops.

Two down... Three? Or maybe four to go.

"You're on the roof with Soap?" Laswell asks, something incredulous and yet resigned in her tone.

"Affirmative." Ghost glances over, his heart slowing a bit when he sees Johnny has regained his position over Makarov, though he's only getting in a punch every now and then as Makarov fights back. Ghost can't make out much of Makarov's features from all the blood, though. "Better get here fast if you want Makarov alive. Johnny's beatin' his face in."

"And you're not stopping him?" 

"Under fire, remember? Can't get to him."

Which is technically true. If Ghost ran across the open area between them, he'd likely end up with at least one extra hole in his body. The reality, though, is that he wouldn't even if he could. Not unless Makarov somehow got the upper hand and Johnny needed back up.

"Ghost, this is Price. We're on our way in the helo. Sitrep."

Sure enough, the sound of helo blades cuts through the gunfire. Ghost reloads and dips out of cover — only to dodge back at another spray of brick. 

"At least four hostiles are spread across the rooftop. Ductwork and mechanical units givin' 'em lots of cover."

"Roger," Price says, "Safest angle for us to come at you?"

"South. Johnny and I are fully covered from that direction and that's where most of Makarov's people are."

Ghost glances over at Johnny—

—who has a pistol pressed against Makarov's forehead. A pistol that looks a lot like the one that Ghost finds is missing from his thigh holster. Must've snagged it when he knocked them all down.

Ghost switches over to their private channel. "Sitrep, Sergeant."

"Got him," Johnny pants through the comms, his voice too panicked for Ghost's liking. "I got him right where we want him. He moves a millimeter, though, I'm gonna blow his head off."

"Sounds good, Johnny. Take some deep breaths for me, eh? Breathe in..."

The guns around them have gone quiet in direct proportion to the beat of the helo blades, but Ghost focuses on the short, panicky breaths in his ear. Johnny swallows and his breathing changes to one of a measured inhale interrupted by small gasps.

"Now breathe out. Slowly."

The sound changes again to something like a hiss of air through teeth. It's not perfect, but at least Johnny is with it enough to listen to Ghost. He guides him through a couple more breaths even as the helo pops up on the south side to rain gunfire down on the remaining hostiles. An RPG whistles through the air. The helo dodges and aims at the location the grenade came from, destroying the ducts and sending metal and brick flying. 

The broken whisper in Ghost's ear brings all his focus back to Johnny in an instant.

"I can't... Ghost... I can't let him live."

"He talkin' to you?"

"Aye. It's... he..." A harsh growl erupts from Johnny's throat and ebbs into a half whine. Ghost is ready to launch himself across the divide, bullets be damned, when Johnny continues, "I cannae live my life knowing he's out there somewhere. Tha' he might get out again. Tha' you or I or any of the people I care about might be in danger because he's still walking the Earth."

A villa in a rainforest rises up in Ghost's mind, blood spraying from the bullet placed between the eyes of the man who had terrorized him for months followed by fire that consumed everything in its wake. He meets Johnny's eyes across the yawning gap of bullet-riddled roof between them.

"Looks like he's movin' to me," Ghost says in a matter-of-fact tone. "Better put him down."

Johnny's eyes flare as he stares at Ghost before turning his gaze to Makarov. There's a moment of silence except for the helo blades cutting through the air, though Ghost can see Makarov's blood-stained lips moving—

A single gunshot shatters the relative silence.

Makarov's body jerks and then stills as blood begins to pool around his head. Johnny scrambles to his feet, still hovering over the body with his gun pointed at Makarov.

Three more shots ring out, but Makarov doesn't move for those. Ghost hums.

"Good work, Sergeant. Another terrorist down. Switch to the main channel, and we'll wrap this up, alright?"

He watches just long enough to see Johnny's hand move toward his comms and switches over himself in time to hear Price swearing up a storm.

"—amn it, Ghost. If you don't give me a sitrep in two seconds, I'm gonna come down there and kill you myself."

"Ghost 'ere. We're solid." Ghost looks over to meet Johnny's gaze. "Target KIA."

There's a silence on the other end until Laswell's voice comes online.

"Repeat that, Bravo 7-1."

Ghost doesn't look away from Johnny as he says, "Target down. Tried to escape. Was the only way to keep him from gettin' away again."

Laswell doesn't respond. She's probably pissed off, but so is Ghost. She's the one who asked Johnny to put himself in danger by being here at all.

Though it's true that Makarov probably wouldn't have shown himself if Johnny hadn't come.

"Ghost, Soap, you're clear," Price says. "Vaqueros are on the way up to bag and tag. We'll RV by the warehouse."

Ghost is moving before Price finishes, dashing across the space to Johnny, who is now staring down at the mangled, bloody face of his tormentor who he very nearly beat to death. Slowly, Ghost reaches out and presses a hand to Johnny's chest.

"You with me, Johnny?"

"Always."

It sounds like an automatic reply, but when Johnny lifts his head, eyes overflowing with tears, there's no distance or haze clouding his gaze. Ghost reaches up to mute his comms. Johnny does the same before reaching under his chin to unlatch his helmet and pull it off. It falls from his hands, the clatter loud without the helo or gunfire to mute the noise. 

"It's over," Johnny gasps, his voice little more than an incredulous whisper. "He's gone."

"You did good, Johnny."

"Why're ye here? Ye werenae supposed to be on overwatch."

Ghost shrugs. "The Vaquero assigned to overwatch was eager to be part of the action on the ground. I was doin' him a favor." A broken laugh bursts from Johnny's heaving chest, and Ghost slides his gloved hand up to cup Johnny's tear-stained cheek. "Told you I wouldn't let owt happen to you. Not now. Not ever again."

Johnny's face goes soft, and Ghost can't resist any longer. He lifts his mask, leans in, and kisses Johnny the way he's been aching to since that day in the hospital... and all those days before when he thought Johnny was gone from his world.

The distant sound of the stairwell door opening pulls them apart, but only by a few inches. They confirm that their company is, in fact, the Vaqueros before turning back to each other. Johnny is grinning at him, his expression bordering on giddy.

"So all I've gotta do to get ye to kiss me is kill a terrorist in cold blood? Good to know."

"No terrorist murder necessary. Just keep bein' 'ere, Johnny. Just stay with me. 'S'all I need."

"Oh, but..."

Johnny trails off, his brows furrowing so deeply Ghost is compelled to smooth a thumb over the puckered skin. "But what?"

"Ye just never seemed to want" — Johnny looks around them and lowers his voice — "more, ye ken?"

"You mean when I was recoverin' from gettin' shot and you from years of torture?"

Johnny blinks, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally stutters out a soft, "Well, when ye put it tha' way, I suppose ye've got a point... but ye should know..."

Johnny grunts when they have to move away from Makarov's body so the Vaqueros can bag it. His gaze is fixed on Makarov's bloody face until the bag zips up over it.

When he doesn't continue his train of thought, Ghost puts a hand on his waist and squeezes to get his attention. Johnny flinches and hisses through his teeth.

"Shit, you broken?"

"Nae. Just bruised to hell and back. I stopped counting after ten hits to the armor."

Ghost blows out a long breath, his spiking heart rate calming with the confirmation Johnny isn't bleeding out, though he still needs medical attention stat. 

"Christ. You're a head case, Johnny."

"Aye, but I'm yer head case," he says, flashing that sudden, broad grin that Ghost hasn't seen in more than three years. "And yer mine," he adds as he curls discreet fingers through Ghost's thigh strap.

Ghost doesn't argue as he directs Johnny to the stairs. They'll have time later to discuss the finer points of their mutual insanity.

They have time. And Ghost will never take a single second of it for granted again.

---

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Epilogue

[pines4thetwin]

RE; https://www.tumblr.com/pines4thetwin/766541554302222336/dipstan-dipford-implied-with-a-hint-of-stancest?source=share

Saw this post and for some reason it spiked the thought in me of both Dipper AND Mabel doing this (I think because I saw a post with a similar premise but with Mabel? You might've written it I dunno...)

And so it kinda spiked like. What if Mabel and Dipper try and hide that they're doing that from each other, until one (or both) of them get so bottled up with their thoughts they just randomly blurt it out, and both of them have a moment of "oh em gee, you too???"

Idk where else that could go but it was a silly thought and I wanted to share with someone, so. Idk hope you like this!! Even if you don't it was nice to get it out of my head :)

Ahhhh your brain!!!

Idk why i didnt think of this!?!?

I did in fact make a similar post about mabel with her writing fanfiction about stancest, getting a crush on them and peeping on em. (idk if thats the one youre refering to)

But i love this idea, dipper and mabel both sneaking tryna catch a glimpse of the grunks together, running into each other *spiderman pointing meme* but not realizing why the other is sneaking around.

Mabels writing poly fanfic of her and the grunks and Dips got his journal where he's writing all his filthy lil thoughts, not quite outright fanfic.

I dont know what would cause it but i can totally see mabel being like "omg i love them so much. Need those old men to sandwhich me. I need to be between them right now." Maybe she's writing her fanfic and just starts fujoing out loud and dips like "huh?" But it doesnt quite click yet. He assumes she's talking about some fictional men from whatever fandom is her current hyperfixation cause why whould he assume she's talking about the grunks.

I can see mabel as being slightly more laid back when shes not fangirling to herself while writing her fics. She's capable of being normal around the stans. But dippers is actually going insane, bro is zoning out staring at either of the grunks, definitely almost slips more then once and blurts out his feelings to them. He's just struggling for real.

He'd be the one to burst and end up revealing his feelings with mabel being "oh em gee, me too!!!" He's going on a full rant talking about its not fair and theyre old and gross or at least stan is. And mabel definitely protests at that because how dare he... stan is wonderful and amazing but dipper keeps ranting, not paying attention.

"He shouldnt be hot. I shouldnt think theyre hot. Whats wrong with me. Its not fair. Why'd i have to go and fall in love with both of them" And mabel would politely wait for him to finish his rant but he just keeps going and going and mabel slowly starts to get fed up so she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him till he shuts up.

"Dip-dop." She'd say slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "Me too."

Dipper would tilt his head, eyes studying her in confusion as if trying to figure her out. "You... too?"

And shed give him a look because he's definitely smart enough to put it together instead of standing there staring at her like she has two heads. He'd get it after a moment.

"Ohhhhh! You toooooo!..... You too?!?" And then they'd talk about it. Mabel ranting about how great stan is and how hot both the grunks are and how she wants to be sandwiched between them. She'd definitely be more open about it. Dipper is hesitant at first. Its clear that he's more comfortable talking about his feelings for ford then he is with his feelings for stan.

Mabel would share her poly fics with him and offer to write some with dipper as their third and at first dipper just wants him x ford fics but eventually he caves and asks her to write him all types of poly stuff for him and the grunks. (And even some of him x stan)

He even shows her his filth journal so she can incorporate some of his fantasies (dont imagine them drawing ship fanart together sharing a hiding spot. Adding to the pile like they're penpals passing notes back and forth)

(And if you like pinecest too)

Mabel eventually starting to write pinesot4 fics and being hesitant to share them with dipper at first cause yeah she has always had a teeny crush on her nerdy twin but he's never indicated reciprocating those feelings and yeah they both have crushes on/are in love with the grunkles but this is different. This is them.

But then he goes all red and hesitantly kisses her. And now theyre sneaking around just as much as the stans are. She convinces him to dress up Mystery Mystery for her (like he did in that one ep) and they sometimes take turns roleplaying as the stans for each other. (Imagine one dressed up, role playing stan and the other as ford at the same time. Mabel would make all the jokes about double twincest. Twincest² if you will.)

Theyre still lil peepers but now they talk to each other about the things they catch glimpses of. Stan and ford kissing, cuddling on the couch, the secret little convos they have. They defintely do the silent eye contact twin telepatgy thing when they happen to catch the stans groping eachother on the sly.

Sometimes they just lay up at night, cuddled together (dipper is forsure little spooning lol) and talking about their feelings. Them talking about how they love seeing their grunkles together just as much as they love the idea of being between them or of all of them being together. Just talking about how amazing it would be if the four of them could share their love and falling asleep with their hands intertwined, wishing for something just outta reach.

Okay imma stop this here. Sryyyy for yapping i just love them soo much!!!

Ending with a customary: "Sorry if this isnt what you asked for, its all i got."

[cr1nge-culture]

may 31: free day

@youngroyals-events

(inspired by this fanart by @itsbrych)

"I'm glad your hair is long again," Simon brushes a lock of Wille's hair behind his ear.

"It keeps falling into my face," Wille shakes his head. "It's annoying."

"It's cute."

He runs a hand through his bangs and scrunches his nose, "You think so?"

Simon giggles and cups Wille's face with both hands, tilting it from left to right, "Yeah. Definitely."

"I was thinking I'd have to cut it soon—"

"Don't."

Wille snorts, "No?"

"No."

"Okay. I won't."

"Good."

Wille tucks his face into Simon's shoulder as Simon runs his fingers through his hair. Wille smiles, humming happily, "Good."

[itscappyj]

Reflections of a Shadow - Final chapter

There’s no time to contemplate who is charging at her. Only that she needs to do something immediately or she is going to die. Beatrice rushes forward and Ava’s instincts kick in. She changes back into a rhino.

Straight away, one of her front legs collapses underneath her weight and an immense pain shoots through her entire body. But it has the desired effect. Beatrice’s hands grab uselessly at thick skin, a body too large for her to grasp onto.

Beatrice backs up a little, teeth bared as her eyes sweep over Ava’s body looking for a weakness. The harsh light reflects off her darkened eyes, so devoid of the person Ava knows that she can barely stand looking at them.

cont on ao3

[mahgck]

you have to outlive donald trump

[chiisana-lion]

[twinliches]

shoutout to the guy who after unsuccessfully hitting on my sister and being politely declined asked her "is it okay if i ask your brother instead" and when she said yes gave me a long and searching look before sighing and going "no. i am not drunk enough to go for a dude. but you look like an angel" happy bisexual pride to this man and this man only. hope you figure it out soon king

[cordspaghetti]

really factual recounting with no embellishments whatsoever

[starlightvld]

Bait & Switch, pt. 11 - The Epilogue

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Epilogue (End!)

Based on "I wasn't in that tunnel."

Call of Duty, soapghost // Hurt/Comfort, MWIII spoilers - Coming soon to AO3 as well!

---

It's been two months since Makarov. Two months of questioning bordering on interrogation, intensive therapy, mountains of paperwork, and near-crippling setbacks. The British military has placed Soap on medical leave while the doctors decide if he's solid enough to serve again, and he's also been required to remain on base as they assess the threat of Makarov's remaining network. His status among the living has been classified, of course, which means he can't contact his family, but at least it's not a hardship to stay close to his friends and the man he loves. And despite the fact that he's tried to kill Ghost on three separate occasions after waking from vivid nightmares, despite the fact that he still occasionally hears whispers telling him to blow up the base and everyone in it, Price, Gaz, and especially Ghost refuse to leave his side.

Soap tries to believe he's worth it.

At least he knows for sure now that he is Soap.

A couple of weeks after returning to Credenhill, Laswell's lab rats came back with results from the journal that, while still incomplete, were divergent enough to confirm a non-matching sample to John MacTavish's DNA. He didn't realize it was weighing on him so heavily until the burden was lifted. Further confirmation came in the form of a raid on Makarov's Siberian base — records of facial reconstruction surgeries on multiple subjects, including Soap's stand in, proved it wasn't the serum alone that changed people's appearance.

But Soap doesn't care about any of that right now.

Because he's currently sitting in a car in front of his parents' house, palms sweating as he stares at the bright red front door. His da always repainted it a different bright color in the spring to brighten up the rainy season. A thousand childhood memories flit through his mind, and he has to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

He doesn't technically have approval to reveal himself to his family, but as Ghost said when Soap first brought it up: who's gonna rat him out? Laswell? Not likely. And Soap's family has suffered long enough.

He has suffered long enough.

And when Price cut through the red tape to approve several weeks of leave to "take care of business" with a wink and smile, Soap couldn't get to Scotland fast enough.

"Ready?" Ghost murmurs, hand coming to rest on Soap's thigh.

His body is attempting to shake his bones out of his skin, but the warm, comforting weight steadies him. He grits his teeth, slips on one of Ghost's plain black balaclavas, and nods. 

They step out of the car, and the familiar sound of pea gravel crunching under his boots throws him back to his childhood, his chest twinging at the sepia-toned memories of slipping bike tires and skinned knees. Soap keeps his gaze locked on Ghost's back, too afraid of getting lost in the memories to let his attention wander. They're both wearing civilian clothes, though Ghost is wearing a SAS cap as an identifier along with a black medical mask covering the lower half of his face.

The door opens before Ghost can knock. Soap's chest caves in at the sight of his father filling the doorway. He takes after his da the most — broad, dark-haired and blue-eyed — and Soap scans over every new line and every extra gray hair since he'd last seen him.

He looks older. Worn.

"Mr. MacTavish, you might not remember me, but I'm Lieutenant Simon Riley. I have some news for you. May we come in?"

"Aye. I remember ye. But I cannae understand what yer doin' here. There's no one left for ye tae take away from me now, is there?"

The bitterness in his father's tone is a pill that threatens to choke Soap. He doesn't realize he's stepped forward until Ghost's arm comes up to wrap around his shoulders.

"No one to take away, no. But I did bring someone back."

At the pointed emphasis, his father blinks, and for the first time, he glances at Soap. His eyes widen as blue meets blue.

"It would be best if we come inside, Mr. MacTavish," Ghost says in a gentle tone.

"Aye," his da whispers as he opens the door wide.

They file inside, and Soap can't take it anymore. As soon as the door clicks shut, he rips off the mask.

"'Allo, Da. Surprise?"

He doesn't have a chance to say anything more as his da barrels into him, nearly knocking him over. Tears stream down his face and soak into Soap's shirt, and Soap realizes he's crying too as his Da whispers "my lad, my lad, my wee laddie is home" over and over in his ear.

---

Ghost warned Soap from the beginning not to try to be his old self. And as one of the few people with experience in coming back from the dead, he trusts the advice.

It doesn't make it any easier to follow it, though.

It takes the whole first visit before anyone in the MacTavish household can speak or look at him without bursting into tears. His two sisters Meg and Claire and his brother Paul arrive as soon as possible with spouses and kids in tow. He goes from one embrace to another and then back until even his touch-starved body can't take much more.

The devastated glances at his many scars are even more difficult to handle.

Ghost is a life-saver, gently-but-adamantly telling them all that Soap needs to rest but they'll be back in the morning. His mam wants him to stay at the house, of course, but he just... can't. She seems to understand, even if he can feel her disappointment following him out the door.

"You're doing good, Johnny," Ghost praises in a soft tone as they drive back to their rented place. "It's not easy to set boundaries. But they'll learn. And you'll heal. Eventually, things will equalize."

"Thank ye," he says, sounding tired even to himself.

The words aren't enough — will never be enough compared to everything Ghost has done for him over the past few months. But he'll be damned if he doesn't at least make sure Ghost knows he's grateful.

The soft look he gets in return and the gentle mouth and hands that worship him later that night reassure him that Ghost does, in fact, know.

---

The July wind is downright balmy for the Highlands, only coaxing a hint of red into the apples of Ghost's bare cheeks as they walk hand-in-hand down the path toward their rented cabin. They're about a mile from the nearest village — close enough to walk but far enough to feel cozy and isolated on the cabin property. 

Soap looks over and smiles at his lover. The smile widens to a grin at the way Ghost smiles back, his cheeks taking on an extra flush.

They've been in Scotland for two weeks, and visiting his family has gotten easier with each passing day. They look at his scars less and at him more. And he's acclimatizing to all the touching and affection they need to give to make sure he's really there and alive.

His da hasn't taken kindly to their insistence that they can't talk about what happened. Soap can only promise him that it was the fault of the enemy and not the Task Force.

His mam hasn't taken kindly to the fact that he won't confirm if he and Ghost are an "item" as she calls it, but neither he nor Ghost are ready for that level of MacTavish exuberance. For now, their story is that Ghost has been assigned to watch over Soap due to his trauma recovery.

Which is going... Well... it's going.

They're taking a walk in the first place because Soap stormed out of a video call with his mandated therapist. Ghost followed him with their jackets and his gentle, undemanding presence. After a couple of miles, Soap's anger, mostly at himself, burned out, and he let Ghost slip a hand into his and pull him close.

How could he not smile at that?

"Been thinkin'," Ghost says in that calm, almost monotone voice of his.

It always sets Soap at ease, so it takes him a moment to prompt, "Aye? Does it hurt?"

"Cheeky fucker. Listen up."

"I'm listening."

"Was talkin' to your da—"

"Tha's dangerous."

"You gonna let me talk?"

Soap presses his lips together to hold back a laugh—God, it feels so good to want to laugh again—and nods. "Sorry. Just feeling a bit off kilter."

Ghost squeezes his hand. Soap squeezes back.

"He said he's got a bit of land a few miles north he's been meaning to sell. I've been earnin' money for years with nowt to spend it on. I thought if you wanted, we could buy it and maybe build a place of our own."

Soap jolted to a stop. Their linked hands strained for a moment before Ghost walked back to him.

"The MacTavish farm?" Soap asks in a breathless tone.

"Mmmhmm," Ghost confirms. "Your da says the old house is gone, but the foundation is still sound."

Soap remembers long days on the farm with his granda, almost thirty years ago now, with the nostalgic fondness of childhood. He would play with the animals and "help" his granda around the farm as a wean.

The idea of living there now...

"Are ye sure? It's a bit secluded."

"Even better," Ghost says with a small smile.

"When would we have time to build a whole house, though? S'not like we'll get leave like this again any time soon."

Ghost puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close. Soap comes willingly, always grateful for the warm and solid presence of the man he loves. Their lips meet in a gentle kiss, the glide slow and lazy, as if they have all the time in the world. As if—

Soap pulls back suddenly and searches Ghost's bare face. His expression is just as relaxed as the kiss, that small smile still gracing the corners of his lips. 

"Ye want tae leave the military?"

"About to hit my years of service for a full retirement. And..." Ghost's smile drops away as he lifts their clasped hands to press a kiss against Soap's knuckles. His voice is soft and serious as he admits, "I don't wanna risk losin' you again. Don't think I'd survive it, Johnny."

Soap swallows and lets himself sink into the admission. The whole of his career, all he's ever wanted is to use his skills and knowledge to make the world a safer place. Instead, he lost three years of his life and inflicted immeasurable harm while in the hands of the enemy. Even if the psychologists and the brass clear him to go back to work, he's not sure he'll ever trust himself in the field again. With the precision required for their jobs, that's practically a death sentence.

Besides, his family would be glad to have him home for good. And he knows they'll come to love Ghost, too. His mam is halfway there already with all of Ghost's subdued politeness.

The more he thinks about it, the more the idea of getting out — of getting a fresh start — appeals to him, though he supposes that's not really a surprise in the end. After all, the most important thing he ever found in the military would be coming with him to Scotland.

"I wanna be wherever ye are, Simon Riley."

Ghost's smile returns. Their next kiss explodes with joy, and Soap leans into it, letting himself be swept away by the swipe of Ghost's tongue and the hard press of his lips. When they finally pull back, Soap is ready to run back to the cabin, eager to take Ghost apart and be taken apart in return. Ghost holds him back, though, his gaze once more serious.

"I want you to be sure about this. No regrets."

"I think it's a grand idea," Soap says before kissing him again. "Where ye lead, I'll follow, aye Lt?"

Ghost hums as he finally lets go of Soap's shoulders and gently tugs at their clasped hands. "How about we walk together, side by side?"

A slow smile spreads across Soap's face as visions of a quiet life dance in his head — a life without fear of capture or torture and without the risk of losing each other at any moment.

"Aye," he murmurs. "I can do tha'."

He kisses Ghost one last time before letting him pull them back toward the cabin.

There's still a lot of work to do before they can take that final step forward, but until then, he'll cherish the idea of a house all their own where they can live out their days in peace. After years of hell, it's good to know a bit of heaven awaits him. And maybe when they finally have a house of their own, Soap will indulge in those matching rings he's been dreaming about. 

Because it wouldn't be heaven without Ghost by his side.

---

FIN

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

the curse of summer is buying and eating an inadvisable amount of fruit in single sittings.

[moodsandtenses]

There's something hilarious about how so much subsequent media has positioned Vampires and Werewolves as, like, binary opposite entities, and then you read Dracula (1897) and realize that wolves are that guy's preferred solution to every problem. You'd say something to Dracula about "ah yes, werewolves, vampires' great eternal enemies," and he'd just be like "you mean my subcontractors?"

[guiiay]

jinx and isha visit a walmart

[hansoeii]

only you.

[monstermonger]

Holly berries!

[ideologyofone]

I’m sorry but I will truly never get over Ekko who lost his mentor and all his friends at a young age, then spent the rest of his childhood building a beautiful and strong community that helped get shimmer addicts off the streets and give them a new life that thrived off of trust, respect, and loyalty while slowly watching the girl he loves lose herself to her psyche and become an unhinged suicidal terrorist who he is unable to save despite repeated attempts at it. And THEN gets booted into an alternate reality where he learns he could have had EVERYTHING, the beautiful and thriving community, the education, his family, and the girl he loves and he heartbreakingly leaves it all behind because he knows he doesn’t belong there and he has to go back to save his people which he DOES multiple times at great risk despite knowing what overextending his z-drive could do only to end up completely alone in the end. The most selfless character in the entire series. That’s my boy savior.