#like i said this isnt the end
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reds-skull · 6 months ago
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BLOOD||HUNGER
[PREV PART] [AO3]
This is it! The last chapter before the epilogue!
It's also the end of a sort of riddle I've been leaving between chapters... I wonder if anyone even noticed, haha
I decided against splitting this chapter, so it's extra long!
Its name is "Famous Fate"
Page 59 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 16:
My brothers, who endured the agony of exile, Who suffered many winters in the cold cage, Were once knights, only to fall, They too, were called Beast. The young maiden, who left your companion, A pure heart, was her only sin, To not pray for a daemon’s death, only for her to live, She too, was called Beast. A man, fallen in battle, Abandoned by all but Death, but by worms of the earth, He too, was called Beast. The hunter, the knight tells, Who chases monsters, who alleges to be righteous, He calls himself, a hero. He is no better man than us, the knight says, One who declares himself justice, one who proclaims to be above the word of God, Is one we, as oath-bound knights, Must send to be judged, by the only true measurer, By the only arbiter still by our side, by Death itself.
“I know I won’t be able to understand, probably never will, but… I have to ask, Simon. Why didn’t you reach out? You knew how to contact me. I could’ve helped.”
“I didn’t think there was enough of me left to save, Captain.”
“...What changed then?”
He looks away for a moment, to blue eyes that never knew fear from him. To arms that refused to hurt him. To a man that showed him more kindness than he ever deserved.
“I met Johnny.”
Ghost watches Soap sort through the supplies the 141 brought with them, wondering what kind of new contraptions the Sergeant’s vivid mind is imagining up right now. He’s grown sickly fond of them, just like everything else Johnny does.
Compromised, a voice growls in the back of his head. You’re only worsening a future pain, only making the inevitable betrayal more torturous.
No pain would make this any less worth it, another voice answers. It doesn’t matter if their destiny only holds blood and ruin, Simon would stay with Johnny as long as he’s wanted. And even then, maybe just a little more.
He senses the presence of another person a moment before Gaz speaks up, “Ghost.”
“...Gaz.” he answers, curious.
The Lieutenant shifts in his place, shoulders taut and squared, “since we’re going to work together, for this mission at least, I figured I should… apologize.”
Apologize?
Gaz continues, his eyes finally landing somewhere on his mask, “Soap explained to me, you never tried to hurt him, after that time we caught you two. I shouldn’t have jumped into conclusions.”
Ghost tilts his head, “I’d doubt your capabilities if you didn’t.” he looks back at Johnny, huffing when the Sergeant grumbles in Scots, “I’m glad he has someone like you on his side.”
Gaz’s mouth hangs open in surprise. He shakes it off to say, “It’s- of course.” Ghost can tell he’s hesitating at his next sentence, “I still have a hard time comprehending you were Simon Riley all along… You’re a bloody legend in the SAS.”
“I suppose they had an easier time making my death seem heroic than trying to actually save me.” Ghost mutters lowly. Gaz just nods slowly, eyes dropping to the ground.
And that’s a kicker, isn’t it? That apparently, the SAS made him a myth, someone for the rookies to look up to, a glamorized shell of a man that no one, including himself, will ever live up to. The same men that left him to die, now say his name with fondness and admiration.
Funny, how those same men now fear him enough to send the 141 on him. Ghost wants to grin with the twisted satisfaction it gives him.
“What’s your name, Lieutenant?” Ghost eventually asks.
“Huh? Uh, Kyle Garrick.” Gaz raises a brow.
Soap gathers up the last of his creations, face turning to his to nod, “Garrick. I know we started on the wrong foot-”
“Understatement of the century.” Gaz offhandedly remarks.
“-But you can trust me with Soap’s six. And I hope we can trust each other on ours, as well.”
Garrick blinks, expression growing serious. He then nods, offering a hand to shake, “enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that?”
Ghost hums, taking the hand and squeezing. He can feel, even from their short interactions, how Johnny and Gaz were cut from the same honest cloth.
He takes off his mask, “affirmative. Let’s move.”
Price’s eyes mellow, the hand on his bicep squeezing gently, “that lad is something else, isn’t he?”
Simon’s scars stretch with a small smile, “I thought he was an idiot, at first. Saving me, giving me another chance again and again. No matter what, he refused to kill me.” he breathes out slowly, the numbness of his limbs ebbing at last, “whoever discharged him was a goddamn moron.”
The Captain sighs, “I tried convincing Shepherd to let him off the hook, but the bastard was mental. He had Makarov in the palm of his hand, wanted to show off how he locked up the worst criminal of the decade, only for MacTavish to choke him out on exfil.”
It was Shepherd, then? Of course it’s that bloody wanker. Ghost can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his chest, “and here’s Johnny, fucking everything up for the higher ups yet again.”
God, what did he do to deserve meeting this man…
Konservy warehouse is a large building, surrounded by silos and containers. At least they’ll have some cover, besides the shadows of the night. Ghost can tell the offloading garage is blessedly open, even from the road their vehicle has parked in, meaning infiltration will be easier than they originally thought.
A thunder makes them all look up to the sky. A heavy storm is brewing, threatening to cover the stars and moon. Good. The darkness is their ally.
They jump out of the truck, gathering around the trunk, doing final checks to their gears. His hands move automatically, in the same way all of them were trained in the SAS. Some part of him is unsettled, the one that labelled himself a lost cause, a monster, a sinner with no salvation.
But as he looks up, at the masked faces surrounding him, Simon can’t call the position he’s in anything but atonement. 
He’ll carve forgiveness from the Hunter’s flesh, write amends with their blood. Untie the last knot on his self-made noose.
The poison in Simon’s body makes itself known at all times now – an uncomfortable buzzing tightening around his knuckles, weaving through sinews and leaving little pinpricks of pain. He looks towards Johnny, his blue eyes a silver grey in the moonlight.
Price wordlessly nods to him, a silent check. Simon schools his features and nods back.
They begin making their way to the garage door, the tall grass their only cover. The Captain motions to the left, where two guards stand under a weak light. Garrick pulls out his EBR, and not two seconds later, both soldiers fall dead with silenced shots. Their group continues pushing forward.
Soap stops walking in front of him, struggling with something. He stops besides him, watching for a moment as he tries to get something out of his pack.
He leans in to whisper, “what are you trying to get, Johnny?”
The Sergeant freezes, “I made some proximity mines with the C4 Price brought, but they’re stuck down there-”
Simon reaches into the pack, gently moving Soap’s hand aside. Their fingers wrap around the bomb at the same time, “you ought to organize it better, what would you do if you were alone?” he admonished.
Johnny’s eyes widen a little, before they crescent in a hidden smile, “but I’m not alone, am I? Ah got ye.”
Soap pulls away, quietly catching up to Gaz and Price. Simon, for his part, stays motionless for far too long, his brain looping Johnny’s words again and again.
It strikes him then, a sudden stab to his heart, that Soap trusts him. With his weapons, with his wounds, with his six.
Johnny trusts him. Simon fights down a smile, happiness overflowing him. He trusts him.
The others send him a confused stare, when Simon doesn’t move. He finally unsticks his legs and sneaks in, eyes instantly drawn to Johnny strapping his unhinged bombs under each vehicle, his “gifts” for any hostile trying to get reinforcements in the future.
Simon can’t force down the smile that his lips form then, when the Sergeant turns around and gives him a thumbs up, almost child like and so at odds with the amount of potential destruction he just planted in the garage.
The others return from clearing the area, Price readjusting his bucket hat over the mask (which looks as daft as it sounds, but Simon can’t help but feel fond of that stupid hat), giving Simon one last look, “how are you feeling, son?”
“Solid.” he flexes his hands, testing the numbness. It’s not enough to inhibit his performance, not yet at least.
Price places a hand on his shoulder, patting it, “good, keep it that way. Our mission may officially be to eliminate the Hunter, but finding an antidote is no less important.” Price’s face darkens, “don’t take unnecessary risks, Simon. I… I don’t want to lose you again.”
Simon swallows thickly, unused to this amount of people caring for his fate. It was far easier to accept a bloody end when no one was there to mourn him, “...I’ll do my best, Captain.”
Price’s moustache lifts with a smile, “good lad. I’ll see you when it’s all over.” he gives him one last pat before drawing away, “let’s move out, Gaz! We need to clear the way for our boys.”
Gaz gives Soap a fist bump and comes by the Captain’s side, “we’ll radio in when you have a way through.”
“Solid copy.” Soap responds, finished with the mine setting, “give ‘em hell, mate.”
Garrick grins, “as always.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to fight?”
Simon scoffs, “I don’t ‘ave a choice, Captain.”
“I am giving you a choice right now. If you think you can’t fight… We can take the Hunter down without you.” Price says, expression severe.
He thinks about it. It is not only a matter of what he wants. When working with a team, he must take into consideration that his inability to fight will endanger the others.
“The poison gives me enough warnings to know a few minutes ahead when I’ll be incapacitated. If I fall while we fight, I’ll be able to secure myself beforehand.” he rolls his wrists, muscling through the pain of regaining feeling, “you’ll need every help you can get. Don’t do my mistake, do not underestimate the Hunter.”
“We won’t, I just need to know-”
“I’ll be fine, Price. Been fighting my whole life with much less.”
“...I know, son. That’s why I would prefer you didn’t.” Price’s brows pull down in sorrow, “but I trust your judgement.”
“...Can’t ask for more than that, John.”
Johnny is silent beside him, eyes glued to the exit he’s overwatching. They’ve been waiting for Price and Gaz’s go-ahead for several slow minutes now, each trickling more sluggishly than the other. The pinpricks on Simon’s hands are growing – he doesn’t have much time.
“Ye think they need backup?” Soap eventually breaks the silence.
“If they’re compromised, we won’t be able to save them now, Sergeant.” as much as he hates the idea of leaving Price and Gaz to fend for themselves, they all knew the risks of splitting up. “For now, assume they’re still solid.”
“Aye, LT- shite, uh-” Johnny fumbles through the words, turning around to give Simon an apologetic look.
He huffs in slight amusement, at how much Soap seems to care if a word hurts him or not.
“It’s alright, Johnny.” he stops the Sergeant from continuing to backtrack.
Johnny’s teeth click shut, and he frowns, sheepishly asking, “...ye sure? It seemed to really bother ye, before…”
‘I wasn’t willing to lay my life for you, before’ he wants to say.
‘I didn’t have your trust, before’
‘I didn’t have trust in myself to lead you, before’
“You’ve earned it, Johnny.” he settles on. It seems to be the right choice, when Soap’s eyes almost close with how wide his grin must be. Simon hates the mask covering his face, for hiding that smile from him.
Their comms choose this moment to start crackling, and Price’s tinny voice comes through, “CCTV room is under our control, haven’t located the Hunter just yet.”
Simon radios back, “have you been spotted?”
“We may not be the Ghost, but we’re still professionals, mate.” Gaz joins in.
“Have ye professionals spotted any potential spot fer the Hunter to hide in?” Soap asks, his eyes still squinting with a smile.
“Still looking, this place is massive.” Price grumbles, “start making your way to the machinery room at the center, take out anyone on the way. I’m seeing a lot of equipment there, but no soldiers…”
“Copy.” Simon clicks his comms off, motioning with his head for Soap to take point.
The halls of the warehouse are eerily empty, little mementos of past life barely clinging to the barren concrete walls. Not for the first time, Simon wonders why the Hunter chose this city, out of all of them.
Soap’s careful steps thump behind him, a calming presence at his back. Simon is not used to trusting, but trusting Johnny feels… natural.
Not for the first time, Simon thanks whatever brought him to Soap. Fate, destiny, a God he doesn’t truly believe in, it doesn’t matter.
He shakes off those thoughts. If it was important for him to be at his best before he met Soap, now it matters a thousand times over, because he’s not alone anymore.
Their fates are interlinked now. And Simon refuses to be the reason they all fall.
He won’t fail his team a second time.
“After all of this is said and done… What will you do?”
Simon grunts as he sits up, finally able to move his torso. He stalls his answer for a moment, the truth so simple it scares him. “...I don’t know.”
He may have been lost many times in his life, tossed between his father’s cruel hands and the cartel’s, but he always had a goal.
‘Get out’
Now, though? The only thing he wants to run away from is the shell of a monster he was before meeting Johnny. A weapon, to be picked up and discarded as needed. 
Price must’ve seen a conflict twisting his expression, because he starts talking again, “I’d have you back in our ranks in a heartbeat, you know. But I don’t think that’s what you need.”
Simon frowns at the ground, hands massaging his aching legs, “and what do you think I need?”
“Someone to ground you. Make sure you don’t forget yourself again.”
“Someone like Johnny, then.”
“Another hostile on your 3, Simon.”
“Copy.”
Simon steps around another stack of crates, every move calculated and muted. The unsuspecting soldier walks right past him, arms relaxed on his weapon.
He waits for him to reach the end of the hallway, and the moment the soldier starts turning, Simon claps a hand over his mouth and slices his neck in a well practiced motion. He catches the body and shoves it into a nearby storage room. “Anyone else, Garrick?”
“You’re clear for now.” Gaz responds. He continues guiding Simon through the mess of halls that lead to the main room of the warehouse, alerting him to enemies. Soap has separated from him about ten minutes ago, taking the other rooms and making sure no one will be alive to raise any alarms.
Even if Price is keeping an eye on Johnny, Simon would’ve much preferred if he was in his sights. But he trusts the Captain.
“Any sign of the Hunter showing on CCTV?” Soap radios in, voice steady and calm.
Price sighs, “negative-”
“Wait-” Gaz cuts him off, “next to the main conveyor belt, right in the middle of the main room, is that…”
Simon holds his breath in anticipation as the line goes silent, Price and Gaz likely attempting to verify the ID.
“Skull mask, that’s them. Soap, Simon, PID on the Hunter!” Price nearly shouts.
Gaz’s voice is far more tense than before when he adds, “it seems like they know something’s wrong, prepare for combat!”
Shit, “Johnny, where are you right now?” they can’t be separated if they’ve been discovered.
“On my way to ye- fuck!” grunts and muted punches fill the comms, the sounds of struggle a sinking feeling in Simon’s chest.
Simon starts running. “Price, where is he?!” these bloody hallways all look the fucking same! He retraces his steps to the point he and Johnny split ways.
“Turn left, he’s straight ahead from there!”
He almost slams into the wall with how fast he turns, but the pain is barely registered when he spots Johnny.
Johnny, whose chest is heaving, three dead soldiers at his feet. His bright blue eyes meet his, “Simon?”
He’s capable. You can trust that he won’t die on you.
He blinks a few times before asking, “what’s your status, Sergeant?”
Soap wipes a bloody knife on his pants, “solid. Let’s move.”
“Your cover is blown. Soldiers are making their way to you!” Gaz tells them, “they’re going to the trucks to the front exit, might be trying to get reinforcements!”
He doesn’t need to see Soap’s mouth to know the way it curves into a dangerous grin, “they won’t get far.”
Simon slings his rifle around, toggling the safety off, “time to go loud, Johnny.”
Soap does the same, “with pleasure.”
The sounds of shots line up with his heartbeat. In a fast-paced melody of war, Simon and Johnny continue pushing hostiles back, headshot after headshot.
Heavy drops of rain shake the roof, thunder booming so close to them, Simon feels it in his heart.
Somewhere amidst the battle, several far away explosions rattle the warehouse, the soldiers in front of them taken by surprise. Simon thinks he can hear Johnny chuckling darkly under his breath.
Red paints the walls, brushstrokes of blood and fallen soldiers of the Hunter. It gives Simon newfound strength to push through the growing pain in his limbs, a blinding rush of adrenaline that lies to him sweetly, convincing him he could resist the poison in his heart.
One second, he’s shooting down enemy after enemy.
The next, he falls.
His gun clatters to the ground, legs convulsing uncontrollably. Simon uses the last of his powers to drag himself around the corner, to cover.
“Simon?! Fuck-” Johnny appears a moment later, attempting to scan him for injuries between shots, “poison?”
Simon groans, “affirm. Sorry, Johnny.” shame bubbles in him. He should be right beside Soap, helping him fight, and the poison decides to take it away from him.
He should be stronger than this.
“None of that, mo chridhe.” Johnny says softly, taking down another hostile, “I’ll clear this wave, and we’ll get ye to a better spot.”
How could he be so gentle while killing people? Simon lays back down with a smile, loosening his muscles and letting the poison have its way.
Soap gets the last of them and returns to his side, looping arms under his shoulders and heaving him up, “steamin’ Jesus, ye weigh as much as a baby elephant.” he complains under his breath.
Simon chuckles, hissing as the jostling shoots pain up his limbs, “you’re just short, Sergeant.”
“Away an’ bile yer heid, bastard…”
Soap drags him to one of the side rooms, a storage unit that seems like it hasn’t seen the light of day for decades. About this time, Simon wishes he had his mask on, if only to filter all the bloody dust in this room.
Johnny fusses over him for a few seconds, until Simon stops him, “I’ll be fine, Soap. Once I regain movement, I’ll come to you.”
Soap stops, hands frozen on his shoulders. He frowns like he wants to argue, but he rises to his feet all the same. “I kept yer comms open, so if ye hear anyone gettin’ close-”
“I’ll radio in. Don’t worry.” Simon smiles, “go.”
Johnny opens the door, hesitating. Simon is about to order him again when Soap unexpectedly turns around, takes three loud steps towards him, and rips his mask off.
“What are you doing, Johnny-”
Warm, shaky hands cup his face, tilt it up. Johnny bends down, and softly kisses his forehead.
In the space between them, he whispers, “I’ll come back for ye, Simon. I promise.”
He puts the mask back on, and leaves.
Simon’s heart burns, his cheeks surely bright pink. He doesn’t know if it’s from the poison, or from…
No, the tight grip around his heart is definitely from the poison. An agonizing ache wraps around his chest, heavier than 6 feet of dirt. Simon’s lungs shudder for a breath.
He can distantly hear the others talk on comms, but the blood rushing through his ears prevents him from deciphering what they’re saying. Simon understands then, that this might be the end. With the poison gripping his lungs, and the lingering warmth of Johnny’s lips, Simon closes his eyes.
His last thought is of regret, that Johnny won’t be able to keep his promise.
“-The Hunter, they’re going after-”
Simon groans, unimaginable pain thumping at his head. Couldn’t death have at least taken that away from him?
The rain beats in incessant song in his head.
“-Wait for backup, MacTavish-!”
MacTavish… Johnny….. Simon remembers the kiss, his promise, and smiles. 
“-Can’t-”
“-SOAP-!!!”
Garrick sounds frantic. What are they shouting about?
Gunshots make his brows crease. Fighting someone… Where is he?
The warehouse. Price, Garrick. The Hunter.
“Johnny…” Simon rasps. A loud static is buzzing on comms. He pays it no mind.
He needs to get up. His limbs don’t shake anymore, but his lungs hurt like he breathed in sandpaper. Simon whimpers, pushing himself forward.
His rifle is laying right next to him. Trembling fingers wrap around the weapon, and with gritted teeth, Simon manages to take it with him as he gets up. He stumbles through the door, blearily noticing the trail of bodies leading deeper into the warehouse.
Simon follows the paths of blood.
He doesn’t know how long it took him to walk all the way to the central room of the warehouse, time slipping between the cracks in his mind. It’s so hard to breathe, dark spots take permanent residence in the edges of Simon’s vision.
The lights went out before he woke up, plunging the building into shades of red, the emergency lights making the blood appear black.
Only one light remains, a spotlight encompassing two figures. A crimson skull makes Simon’s steps falter.
The Hunter.
Their gun pointed directly at Johnny’s head.
It takes everything Simon has left in him to lift his gun. His lips move around a prayer, a plea to whoever is out there listening.
His fingers shake around the trigger.
He takes one last heaving breath, his eyes wide with fear.
The Hunter’s head moves from Johnny to him.
Simon shoots.
His bullet hits the Hunter’s arm, the rifle in their hands getting knocked away and sliding under a conveyor belt.
Johnny turns around, blue eyes shining in the light.
Simon smiles.
“...Simon…?” Johnny asks.
He falls unconscious not a moment later.
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Several minutes earlier
Soap closes the door on the storage room. He takes a second to roughly scrub down his face. What the fuck did he just do?! Did he bloody lose it?!!
“Soap, what’s your status?” Price asks over the radio.
“Solid. Poison got Simon, left him in a storage room.”
The Captain sighs, “we will keep an eye on the door, son. He’ll be safe.” Soap exhales shakily. “More hostiles your way, keep pushing Soap.”
“Copy.”
No time to consider his fuckin’ action. He needs to focus.
He hears the rumbling steps of soldiers echoing through the empty halls, and pulls out a flash grenade. Now that he’s alone, he can start using some of his more… lethal equipment.
Soap huddles behind a filing cabinet, throwing the flash over his shoulder. Even though he covers his eyes, his vision is still painted bright red for a moment. He pops out of cover, noting the disoriented soldiers clutching at their eyes and ears, and methodically dusts them.
From here on out, it is total chaos.
Drill charges, Semtex, frags, every explosive in Soap’s arsenal gets thrown at seemingly endless waves of soldiers. He moves on instincts, hands shooting at targets his mind didn’t even register yet.
It is only when he gets to the main machinery room, that he comes back to himself.
Sentry turrets have been set up at the entrance, waiting for him.
Soap rolls away not a moment too soon, the floor he just stood on turning to shattered bits of concrete in seconds. 
“Captain, they have sentries!” Gaz yells, “Soap is pinned!”
Soap scans the room he’s in, noting the snaking cables wrapping around the sentries legs. Following them, he spots a large electrical enclosure. If he could create a shock, the sentries will stop working…
A thunder rattles the windows around them, soldiers spreading out in search of him. “On your 9, Soap!” Price informs him, and he shoots two soldiers getting too close to his position.
The rain… if he can get it to drop on the enclosure…
Soap scans the roof for any weak points. There!
“Captain, Gaz, are there any hostiles around me?” he growls into his mic.
Gaz answers, “Negative, what are you-”
“Ah’m gonna drop the power to take the sentries down, might take out the CCTV.”
One beat passes before Price replies, “understood. We will come back you up if it goes.”
“Solid copy, Captain.” Soap lines up a shot at a precariously placed piece of the roofing. With only the iron sights on his rifle, it takes precious moments to aim and finally press the trigger. The hairs on Soap’s nape raise as he hears soldiers close in on him.
Time slows as he watches the water spill down, flooding the electrical enclosure.
“He’s here! Get him!” A soldier shouts to his left.
The warehouse instantly falls dark. The electric hum stops, making Soap’s surroundings eerily silent.
He ducks away, sneaking around crates and containers, moving position to the soldiers’ flank, and just as the red emergency lights turn on, he strikes.
5 shots, and they’re down.
“The CCTVs are out, we’re making our way to you. Do not engage the Hunter alone, Soap.” Price orders through comms.
Soap lifts his hand to press the button to answer, but a new group of soldiers appears, shots wild as they spray the area he’s in. He jumps back, searching for his attackers, tracking the glint of the gunmetal. He shoots them, bodies falling, and for a moment he believes he’s in the clear.
Pinpricks at the back of his neck make him turn.
Soap’s eyes widen as he comes face to face with the Hunter.
They stare at each other for a second, before the Hunter simply walks away.
Back towards the way he came from, towards… Simon!
“Soap?! Soap, give me sitrep, now!” Price yells, snapping him out of shock.
“Price, the Hunter, they’re going after Simon!” Soap doesn’t have time to figure out how the Hunter knows that, no time to figure out how he knows that.
“Wait for backup, MacTavish! That’s an order!”
“I can’t let Simon die, Captain!”
At those words, the Hunter snaps their gaze to him, and with near inhuman speed, lift their gun and shoot.
Pain shoots through his right shoulder, making him drop his gun. Soap bites down a scream of agony, the burning of the gunshot spreading down his arm.
“SOAP-!!!”
The butt-end of a gun comes at his head, Soap falling to the ground on his back to avoid it.
A single light turns on above them, the sharp shadows casted on the grotesque red skull mask hiding the Hunter’s eyes.
The commander circles him, Soap crawling towards his gun. If he could only-
The Hunter kicks it away, the firearm clattering when it hits one of the metal support structures keeping the warehouse’s roof up. The reverberating sound bounces on the barren walls.
“I’ll never let ye kill Simon.” Soap snarls, desperation clawing at his chest. He frantically searches for an exit, a way to stall the Hunter, before they line the barrel of their rifle with his head.
He’s going to die here, Soap realizes.
He won’t be able to fulfill his promise to Simon.
A shot from behind him makes him jump, the bullet hitting the Hunter’s hand, making their gun fly off and land under a conveyor belt.
Soap turns around, heart beating out of his chest.
Simon stands behind him, his form shaking, face even paler than usual, standing out against the red lights.
“...Simon…?” 
Simon crumples, body falling heavily to the ground.
“-NO-!” Soap rushes to him, when a blade unsheathing makes him freeze.
The Hunter is flexing their injured hand, a knife held tightly in the other. Soap growls.
So this is how it’s going to be, huh?
Soap searches Simon for a moment, unsheathing his knife. The blade is long and cruel, one he’s seen take so many lives in the short time they’ve known each other. It’s only fair it will take one more.
Soap gets his feet under him, grunting at the pain from his wound.
They start circling each other, waiting for the other to strike first. The Hunter’s head moves for a second away from him, to look at Simon.
That’s when Soap rushes in, knife in his left hand, slicing at the Hunter’s other arm. He jumps away before the commander can retaliate, and they start trading blows.
Soap manages a cut at their wrist, bright red blood mixing with their uniform. The Hunter slashes at his injured shoulder, making Soap yell.
He disengages for a moment to catch his breath, watching the Hunter do the same. He feels doomed for a moment, when he realizes he’s fighting a soldier that bested even the Ghost.
How could he win?!
Another blow to his torso that Soap barely evades. He tries to go for the Hunter’s neck, only for them to block it, shoving Soap away with frightening force.
Think, MacTavish! You’ve always been shorter, weaker, younger than both your squad mates and your opponents!
Take those disadvantages, and make them work!
Soap inhales sharply, dodging another lethal attack. The Hunter is far stronger than him, if they managed to get a stab in…
A sharp grin stretches on his lips. Soap twirls around the Hunter, their knife predictably following with immense speed.
He lets it sink into his left shoulder, and he pushes towards it, snarling as it sinks in further.
The Hunter attempts to take it out, but it sank far too deep. Soap locks eyes with the red skull.
In a wide arc, Soap swings his knife, and slices the Hunter’s neck.
Blood sprays on his face, as the commander clutches at him, a pathetic attempt to keep themselves standing.
Soap freezes when he hears the Hunter talk.
Their voice is startlingly old, decrepit, as they whisper, “You are nothing but a Blind Man… a Beast… following… a Beast… you will not be more than that… you will die… monsters…..”
The Hunter’s grip slips from his biceps, and they fall to the ground, dead.
Soap stares at the blood spreading on the floor, as an unsettling sense that this has happened before washes over him.
He shakes it off when his eyes drift away towards Simon’s still form.
Soap falls to his knees, frantically searching the Hunter’s body, “Fuck, c’mon, c’mon…”
His fingers brush over a set of vials and syringes at their hip, and he yanks them off, trembling fingers slipping while he tried to get the liquid in the syringe.
Once he manages to fill one, Soap throws away the rest, crawling to Simon and tilting his head to access his neck. The poison has blackened his veins, the injection site the epicenter. Soap stabs it and pushes the liquid from the needle into Simon.
He sits back, arms pulsing pain from both of his wounds, the Hunter’s knife still in his shoulder.
“Simon… Mo leannan, please.” his eyes start to water, uncoordinated hands pawing at Simon’s chest, “please, wake up…”
He places a bloody hand over Simon’s cheek, tears now streaming down his face, “I kept my promise… I told you I’ll come back, right?” his voice cracks, “now ye just have to come back to me… Please…”
Soap feels his adrenaline waning, leaving him tired, so fucking tired. He rests his head on Simon’s chest, sobbing at the stillness of it.
“I…” Soap closes his eyes, “I wanted to tell ye…” his exhales shudder out of him, “I love ye…”
Ba-dump
Soap stills. Did he imagine…?
Ba-dump
Ba-dump
Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-Ba-dump-
“Fuck…” Simon groans. Soap’s head shoots up, and his brown eyes soften, “Johnny?”
Soap barks a laugh, blinking away tears.
Simon’s eyes trail down, to the knife in his shoulder, “fucking ‘ell, Soap, how did you manage that?!”
“The Hunter…” 
“Is he…” Simon stares behind him, at the growing puddle of blood, “fuck, Johnny, you took him out by yourself?”
“You and me, Simon.”
Simon smiles up at him, dark eyes breathtakingly deep. He sighs a moment later, slowly getting up to walk to the body of the commander. Soap follows.
Simon takes hold of the red skull mask, staring intently at it before taking it off.
Beneath it, was a face Soap feels he’s seen before, yet in the weeks following, he could not remember. The only feature burned into his memory were the four scars slashed across the Hunter’s face.
The claws of an animal.
Simon examines the mask. It looks similar to Ghost’s, but the red skull is sculpted to look furious, a permanent frown on it.
Simon offers it to Soap, who gives him a confused look.
“You’ve earned it.”
Soap stares at Simon, before taking the mask. 
The two of them swivel their heads back when a pair of footsteps sound through the hallway behind them. Simon slides a knife down his sleeve, ready to fight, when the source is revealed to be Price and Gaz.
“Soap, bloody hell mate, we told you to-” Gaz’s brows slowly rise as he registers Simon, and then the mask in Soap’s hand.
Price approaches them, “the antidote…?”
“Administered.” Soap says, “it’s over.”
The warehouse falls silent as they process the words.
The Hunter is dead.
It is done.
Page 63 of the “Blooede Starvatfōre-dēde”, parable 17:
And the Beast attacked, cruel claws reaching the hunter, His eyes blinded, by blood and rage, And the Beast says to the Blind Man, you will fight as equals. The Blind Man, the Fallen Knight, Takes a sword, and strikes the hunter down, And as his blood became one with the dirt, the hunter tells, You are not but a Blind Man, not but a beast following a beast, You will not be more, you will die Monsters. And the hunter falls silent, forevermore belonging to death.
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atoriv-art · 1 month ago
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older designs for my specialest guy
#you actually could pay me to watch boruto the payment is reviving any of madara-obito-itachi in a cheap fan service moment. itd work on me 👍#neji hyuga#hyuga neji#art#fanart#naruto#2024#i think konoha would love to project the will of fire shit onto neji after what he did. ya know. trying to give your life 'for the village'#in that way hed probs have a lot of respect from others but respect has never been enough when your life still isnt yours 😛#the pessimism would likely take a bit to return to him but it Would return hes just like. less interpersonally volatile#the realization you had two whole very public meltdowns and no one that matters cared will do that to you#anywayfor the happy ending one. i think while neji is always going to be a little bit bitchy hes bound to soften up a lot when he's not#under constant stress and has to micromanage his every thought#i like to think that if he were allowed to hed grow into a very outwardly warm person. sunflower :)#and my general opinions of neji and boruto are:#1. yes it is a blessing to not be made to be straight married#2. however consider: what if i wanted to see neji be a dad. i dont care for romantic njten but i do not hate it. it would be acceptable#when i think abt this guy in boruto hes chronically single but still.talking about what CANON could be. it would be acceptable#3. yes hiashi shouldve gotten his ass killed in the war but i would be lying if i said the awful family reunions#are not fun as a concept#are they fun on purpose? no#but the rule is: A situation can suck if it sucks on purpose#and 4. i know about the time travel episode i have mixed feelings on it.#anyway no hate if you like boruto i like being hyperbolic for fun but its just anime. the kids seem cute#but if any other hyuga-brained person ever wants to get unimaginably angry you should also watch the hiashi birthday episode of boruto#thats my special recommendation from me to you
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lukasdoodles · 2 months ago
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So! Here are the sketches for the mcsm stickers i wanna make! I might do more characters in the future (Starting with the 1st place winners of This Poll!) I'm also contemplating making these into keychains, we'll see! I just wanna gauge how many of yall would be interested in these, so here's another poll lol
Thanks again to everyone's support while i've worked on these! I'll continue with the art regardless, bc they're cute, but again thanks yall! If you have any more comments or ideas feel free to let me know :3
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tubbytarchia · 11 months ago
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Omg drawing requests?? Can I please see your Pearl doing anything I love your Pearl so much the serotonin she gives me. No pressure to draw it tho!
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Was I cut by these teeth, or by your barbed wire?
TL: Is this good? Is this satisfactory?? I really struggled with the colors (again) :( also alt under cut
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reineydraws · 3 months ago
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had to draw this to understand the way i feel about him now that the manga's ended. 🥲 on that note: if you like hawks and his ending, maybe don't read my tags lol. it's not bashing (imo) but they're not v nice. 😅
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bg + unobstructed pose under the cut!
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his expression's a lil different 'cuz i only changed the merged layer, all the lighting effects already flattened onto it. 💀 alas.
#hawks#mha hawks#bnha hawks#takami keigo#keigo takami#bnha#bnha fanart#mha#mha fanart#spoilers#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#it's not very positive lol i don't really like the way his character ended 🥲#i think his hero worship for endeavor blinded him from seeing or doing anything that could make a difference#i was so let down when he didm't have any sort of critique or moral dilemma after the touya reveal#and just immediately supported endeavor--it made me think he wss incapable of being critical of his idol.#only further underscored with the way he remembers his endeavor plushie while he defends the rabking system.#like. he thinks about his childhood toy of his hero while he defends the system that ultimately caused that ''hero'' to ruin his family.#so blinded by that pedestal that he unironically thinks about the BIGGEST example of why the ranking system does NOT work#WHILE he defends said system.#he was introduced as this morally complicated guy and instead of his childhood worship of a flawed guy making him more interesting#by having him really THINK about what it means that his hero inadvertently created a super villain#he was instead flattened into an endeavor fan boy. and even tho he was introduced as a guy w a complicated bg of#villainous father + harshly trained by the HPSC from a young age he still doesn't do very much with the system of which he's gained charge.#if he thought of the plushie as a memory of what it meant to have a symbol of hope in his hands it's like...#hawks... abolishing the ranking system wont stop merch and news articles and good PR from happening...#anyways yeah. he was one of my faves for a really long time but the way he ends... i dont like that guy.#that being said him becoming president of the HPSC isnt smth i hate even tho idve given him a vacay and his sought-after free time.#and i like that he brings a katana around now. i tried to make the projection make it look like his epilogue self has wings.#oh and i hated the tiny epilogue panel that made it look like endeavor replaced his entire set of kids. :) just. absolutely loathed it. :))
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worflesbian · 2 years ago
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this woman tugging the children out of the way/putting herself in front of them as the klingons walk past.. they're just going somewhere do u think they're gonna attack your kids unprovoked? it's such an interesting detail establishing how klingons are perceived by federation civilians but also worf's served on this ship almost a whole season do you shield your kids from him too? did you used to?
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delicatepointofview · 5 months ago
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gonna have to deal with people missing the point of louis singing 1d songs in festivals... don't get me started on the other covers
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veth-brenattos-mental-state · 7 months ago
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I know this sounds cruel, but Fcg was a great choice for a PC death. I dont say that because I'm not sad. They were a favorite of mine! It's just that he was at a good place in his story for it. If Imogen or Fearne, who have really important plot/personal connections that still need to be explored died, it would feel like we lost too much of the story. While Chetney nearly dying felt more somber than tragic because he'd already lived such a full life. Fcg was at a good middle ground where it feels like we could have had more while still being a satisfying end for them. His story feels both complete and incomplete, and that's what makes it such a great tragedy.
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ryssbelle · 8 months ago
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Poppy for N2 au, it took me so long to make her design cuz I didn't really know what I wanted to do only because I feel like her design is pretty perfect.
But then I just thought about fun outfits to give her or outfits that I would find comfortable if I was wearing them and it all came together.
Poppy here is pretty much the same as here movie counterpart, as nothing really changes on her end of things other than having more insight on Branch through his brothers, and through Lief. Shes also a bit more understanding a bit earlier on because of it but it doesnt do much to change her own character arc I would say.
Bonus
Part of Poppys design was based off a design I had made for previous rulers of Troll Village/Tree
Namely Queen Protea who I designed as Poppys grandmother
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Named after the Protea flower which part of her design is based off :D
In the context of this Au Protea was the one who conceptualized the tunnels while her son, King Peppy, was the one to follow through after her death
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mssallsunday · 23 days ago
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mouthwashing features a mc who rapes and impregnates a woman and then crashes a spaceship full of innocent people to cover that fact up when the news gets out to the ppl she confides in and the captain tells her her assaulter wouldn't do that because he "knows him" and the mc pretends like it never happened as he is haunted by the images of his lies and deceit and cowardice and the image of his unborn child and the sound of a child's cries and the captain who failed to act cannot move himself or feed himself or speak for himself or defend himself when the mc attacks him and berates him and blames him for every lie he's ever told as the captain loses every scrap of autonomy he has left. but yeah it's about fucking. capitalism and yaoi. whatever i guess
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ilynpilled · 4 months ago
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re “most popular lannister in fandom” discussion lol i love cersei obv but im not particularly shocked at her not being as immensely popular as her brothers in book circles. not even just because of misogyny but the type of character that she is and her “likability”. nonetheless, there is a lot to say and discuss about her and her complexity anyway and id love to see that more over “girlboss delulu queen x100”. idrgaf about what others think but the only thing that kinda bugs me is when i see multiple ppl complain about tyrion specifically lacking the intrigue and discussion that sorrounds jaime sometimes (which is a gripe i entirely understand and resonate with, especially bc we can guess the types of things it could be rooted in; and there is a lot of material to discuss with him ofc) and then never discussing him or really mentioning him themselves either, especially centering him. like ye i write like 800 pages on jaime or whatever and not as much about the other two bc i find him the most compelling personally for whatever reason but lol thats just me. be the change u want to see, especially if u find him the most interesting personally
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frobby · 7 months ago
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this came to me in a vision
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empyreansentinel · 18 days ago
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since ive started my most recent playthrough of the series im just. constantly reminded of how shitty of a hand the bandits got dealt. starting with dahl dumping thousands of convicts into pandoras penal colonies, as well as establishing civilian settlements like fyrestone. this went on for generations, maybe. long enough for zed to be born and go grey. atlas shows up, chases off dahl and the planet is put under new, neglectful management. this opens the prisons, and the "unworthy" convicts clash with the "worthy" dahl settlers for resources. violence breaking out is inevitable because violence is the only thing the bandits have. BL1 VHs come in, killing their way through every camp and mine and settlement they can get into, for no other reason than Bandit Bad and theyre in the way of our money. lets go into their homes and kill them because they would have probably tried to kill us if we hadnt. the first people they meet are settlers, of course theyre going to feel this way. the only pushback they get is atlas trying to "protect" barons territory because they want the vault key from his men. and it doesn't stop them from throwing him to the wolves once his value as bait outweighed his value as an asset. atlas sends them after flynt with the false promise of a key fragment, something the VHs have killed for before, so why would this be any different? the vault key is reformed. destroyer pops out of the vault, cracks open the planet, and then hyperion hits pandora. i dont need to explain hyperion. everyone, if nothing else, has played BL2. more prisons, more exploitation, this time on a scale several times that of dahl or atlas. but the bandits still dont get the benefit of a doubt, even though they are facing the same dangers that sanctuary does. and worse, seeing as how they dont have a flying city with a bubble around it. once the BL2 VHs touch down, theyre mincemeat. all of a sudden, theyre fighting a war on all fronts. so they lose their leadership. captain, flanksteak, mortar, nisha in 2. nine-toes, sledge, krom, baron in 1. and they also lose a good half of of their population to boot. so...what can they do that wont get them steamrolled by pandoras benevolent saviors? they unite. BL3 rolls around and every bandit clan on pandora has been assimilated into the COV because that is the only level of security they have left. except it still isnt safe because now theyre quite literally being eaten and mutated by the ones who are supposed to be protecting them. and then theyre still being mowed down regardless, because the calypsos dont provide any real kind of safety, they just have a veil of community. which is then lost when the twins die and the world almost gets destroyed by the great vault. and now the crimson raiders are...leaving, maybe? which might be for the best. maybe what this planet needs it just to be left the hell alone.
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carnation-damnation · 24 days ago
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Shadow the Hedgehog is a canonically suicidal teenager full of self-hate and survivor's guilt and I'm not supposed to love and cherish him like my son? alright
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xlillyle · 8 months ago
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"We can delay the mission for another two minutes."
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noagskryf · 1 month ago
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and the universe said I love you
and the universe said you have played the game well
and the universe said everything you need is within you
and the universe said you are stronger than you know
and the universe said you are the daylight
and the universe said you are the night
and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you
and the universe said the light you seek is within you
and the universe said you are not alone
and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing
and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code
and the universe said I love you because you are love.
Minecraft credits
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