#rileys tunes

[ossydrawsthingz335]

an original song i made, "Magical Mechanisms"

reblogs are HEAVILY appreciated! thank you! :3

[gomzdrawfr]

✨Slay in Style🌈

1/4 Pride Art

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[888888-88]

Thank yall for so much support !!!!

I appreciate all the Ghost (Samuel ghost) fans were actually out there more than I ever expected 🥹❤️‍🔥

Currently cooking something special and it’s coming sooon 💁🏻‍♀️✨ (bits of teaser🎨 )

[bressynonym]

new handler

🚬🐂

[forestshadow-wolf]

Prince!Soap, with an affinity for slipping away undetected, who trains with the king's army on his father's orders.

Knight!Ghost, who was assigned to train him, assumes he was just a pretentious prick. Learns that soap actually just acts like... a guy. He's not afraid to roll up his sleeves and get dirty, he likes the hard work, even. He learns that soap leans into the royal asshole character on purpose, for the public to see, doesn't learn why, but then again he doesn't need to.

He watches soap stress about politics and treaties, things he can't help with, things he doesn't know a damn about. He also sees in real time the way the 'handsome prince MacTavish' mask falls into place over stressed, restless, twitchy Johnny. He sees the mask nearly slip into Soap before he pulls it back up during an assassination attempt upon either him or his father during a ceremony. He watches Johnny steal the mask of 'Prince MacTavish' to placate the crowd.

And when the doors close behind them and the mask falls and all that's left behind it tense, twitchy Johnny... was left behind. Because now he's slipped away again, and nobody can find him, and everyone is on high alert, looking for him. And he's nowhere to be found. Again.

It takes Ghost an hour and 47 minutes to find him, soap counted. When Ghost finds him he's wandering some back alleys in the old part of town, wearing his least flashy garments, and a dull cloak with the hood pulled up.

[wildechildwrites]

Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent. 

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral. 

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive. 

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door. 

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you. 

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway. 

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch. 

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag. 

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him. 

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag. 

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again. 

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team. 

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat. 

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you. 

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples." 

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you. 

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight. 

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you. 

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping. 

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.” 

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest. 

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything. 

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.” 

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

[watchingthecredits]

interlude: somewhere in the ether

hwang biori / your side, the beths / toe bone, teen jesus and the jean teasers

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Selectively mute Roach gets handed the aux cord.

Roach, who learned all his music from his Deaf and HoH friends who listen to it for the bass: *puts on the most vile, hardcore, punk-emo song about killing someone for pleasure*

Roach, signing: ‘SONG THIS’ ‘I LOVE’

Roach: *kicks his feet and bobs his head as a kid might, smiling slightly to the beat*

The rest of the 141: “what the fuck…”

[ossydrawsthingz335]

heres a cover/remix of ghost fight from undertale :>

i love making these sm hehe

also thanks to "codemasta123" for the original fl studio project file o3o

[robiinurheart33]

Part 2

This time, it happens in Alaska. (TW for depictions of gore!!)

They’re hurt and injured, escaped just by the skin of their teeth. They’ve been hastily given the coordinates by Laswell, and barged into the quiet atmosphere of the bunker. The air tasted stale and unmoving; every surface covered with a thick sheet of dust. Soap could see the particles in the air, sunset shining through the windows, creating a strangely nostalgic picture that tickled the base of his skull.

Soap looks back at Ghost, who’s in the process of slamming all the locks on the door. He then looks back down at the wound spilling over the cracks of his fingers tightly pressed against his side, and watches as he takes a deep breath and more blood starts to spill over in morbid curiosity. He hears the blood dripping rhythmically on the wooden floor. Soap isn’t quite sure if it’s due to the stim sticking out of his thigh, but he can’t feel anything at the moment, which probably isn’t good.

I’m disturbing the peace. He thinks deliriously.

“—Soap!”

“Mmh?”

His eyes meet auburn ones, wide and full of barely concealed panic. Oh, there it is. He suddenly feels incredibly dizzy, world splitting into two pieces.

“I’m-” Soap gagged, crumbling to his knees. He’s glad there isn’t anything in his stomach right now, because it would’ve been really embarrassing to throw up in front of his supervisor. He feels hands all over his body, tac vest dropping heavily to the ground. Soap hears a loud thump onto the floor, a hand pulling his shirt up. Sorry for disturbing your peace. He apologises to the house, eyes rolling up as he hears one last shout of his name.

Soap wakes up to the sound of screaming. Which he realises with oncoming horror that it’s coming from him. Blinding hot pain sinks its claws into its sides, soap letting out a strangled gasp. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.

“Hh- nggh-” Soap tries to shape the words in his mouth, but all his brain can focus on is the blazing pain at his side. He gives up, wheezing as he looks down to see Ghost pouring antiseptic across his wound. Ah. That’ll do it then. He tries to keep his mouth shut for ego purposes, somehow finding the time to try not to burden Ghost as much as he knows he is. He fails, obviously, grinding his teeth together as groans rip their way through his throat. Panic seizes up his hands, his eyes blown open as he feels wetness drip, drip, drip.

Ghost moves with ever loving speed, holding Soap down as he steadies a hand with a needle and thread. He can’t help but thrash his body away from Ghost, chest heaving. He’s saying something but Soap can’t hear anything else at the moment through the ringing in his ears. The white light burns through his retinas, forcing him to close his eyes. Hurts, hurts, hurts. It hurts. He lets out another strangled gasp, needing to consistently get oxygen in his system or he would pass out again from the pain. Soap throws his forearm into his mouth, biting down on it while his other hand claws on the floor beneath him, stilling his body for Ghost to patch him up.

Soap kept almost slipping under, Ghost tapping his face a couple times to keep him conscious as he feels the needle pierce the skin of his abdomen over and over again. As a kid, whenever Johnny’s skin got cut on his finger, he used to flex it to watch the cut open and close, feeling the strange sensation of nerves doing their job. Now, the sensation increased tenfold as Ghost pulled on the string, closing him back up again. He could feel the lines of sweat travelling down his neck, tracing the length of his spine. His hands slipped as he rubbed them over his face, labouring wheezes slowing down as Ghost placed the gauze and wrap around him.

When Ghost pulled his hands away however, Johnny’s hand shot out and grabbed his in a clammy hold.

“Stay.” He whispers, voice cracking.

Ghost looked at him for a moment, sunken eyes meeting pained ones.

“… You got it, Johnny.”

He sighs in relief, hand slipping from his wrist. He allowed himself to fully relax, as if the throbbing in his head and the wet feel of his wound went away. He could rest. He can rest. Please, can he rest?

“Rest, Johnny.” He slips under.

6

[on-a-lucky-tide]

"I'm the bad guy, I'm a savage, I'm obsessive, I'm dramatic, I'm a loner, I'm an addict, I'm so goddamn problematic,

I'm the bad guy, I'm a loser, I'm a psycho, believe the rumours, I got bad thoughts, I got bad vibes, I don't act right, it's nice to meet you."

[nonbinary-gaydonweaver]

beef tv (w/ HIVEMIND)

[kiurit]

josh o'connor dropping out of a karim aïnouz movie is like michelle williams dropping out of a karim aïnouz movie if you guys think about it…

[amplifyme]

Doing a rewatch of Midnight Mass 'cause it's that time of year. This series had so, so many epic monologues, but this remains one of my favorites. Mike Flanagan will own my heart forever simply on the power of this one scene, that hit me like a sledgehammer because it was like he reached into my head, snatched up my thoughts about organized religion, and put them on the screen for everyone to see.

[colferpics]

simplyamberriley Amber Riley and Chris Colfer in the "FOX Legends" NAME THAT TUNE episode airing Wednesday, February 1st! ❤️‍🔥 [posted Jan 30, 2023]