#no beta we die like 09 soap

[wittymanatee]

Baby your love shot me in the Head (Literally) [Ghoap] Part 1 of ?

Setting- Task force are doctors and nurses, all of them are close and some are pinning,

Ghost- Dermatologist/Surgeon

Soap-Pediatrician

Gaz-Neurologist

Price And Laswell-Head Chief's

Alejandro-Gastroenterologist

Rudy-Endocrinologist

The rest, they work there but I haven't decided what-

TW-Maybe Main Character Death, Blood, Gun wound, Panic attack

(First writing this long) Don't know how people be writing such amazing story's, so i want to say i envy all you writers out there. <3

"He might not make it from what we were told" Gaz said solemnly by the doors.

~~~~~~~~~♤~~~~~~~~

The ambulance was getting closer, Ghost and Gaz were already waiting by the sliding doors for the patient, who was a male, late 20s, was shot in the head out at a stoplight, but the man still had a pulse when paramedics came.

"A shot to the head surely should have killed on the spot, but the idiots still breathing." Ghost said mutely, voice straight. Ghost would have felt a little bad if the guy died on the table, but people die every day, so he wasn't going to have his hopes up.

Right when both of the men by the sliding doors heard the ambulance, and got into stance, Price, their Chief came running over with a hand towel.

"Price?" Gaz said, both him and Ghost watching Price catch his breath before straightening up and looking at the both of them with a scared face, brows pinched, face pale.

"This patient that's coming in has to go straight to surgery and by no means does his face get revealed, do I make myself clear." Price said strictly. Ghost and Gaz looked at each other in confusion.

"But if the wound is on his face, how are we going to-" Ghost began but was cut off by the ambulance getting there.

Price started to run out and yelled behind him, "I got that covered, just try your best!" Price ran out right when the back of the ambulance back doors open, hopping in. A second later, medics were wheeling the patient out, a towel on his face but a hole where the wound was. Price helped pushed the man into the building where Gaz and Ghost where waiting.

Once in the teams, Price, Gaz, and Ghost brought the man into OR room 141. A nurse there had the place set up for them to begin as quickly as possible. The man was hooked up with tubes, wires and stickers. Another nurses and doctors came to assist.

(Im sorry but i don't know how to describe a surgery well enough so time skip 4 hours later)

Ghost was tired but he wasn't giving up, the man on the table flat lined 2 times already but they were able to get him back each time, but they knew that if he flat lined one more time, there was a chance he wouldn't come back that time. Ghost finally was able to locate the last bullet piece and oh so slowly started to pull it out.

Everyone in the OR held their breath as they watch Ghost oh so slowly pull the last piece of the bullet out the man's head. Everyone was about to let out a breath of relief before the man's heart stop, making the flat line noise. Ghost got to work but pumping his chest again, while Gaz started to close the head wound.

Pushed down once wait a second, push down again repeat, pushed down once wait a second, push down again repeat, pushed down once wait a second, push down again repeat, Ghost repeated in his head waiting for the flat line to beep. He didn't know how long he was at it before Price layed a hand on Ghost shoulder stopping him.

'Ghost, enough...time it" Price said looking down, eyes covered by his bucket hat.

Ghost sighed, feeling pity for the man, before checking his watch. "6:32 Pm". Gaz walked up to Ghost and patted him on the shoulder, both of them tired.

"We did everything we could, the wound was just to fatal." Gaz said.

"By the way-"Ghost began while everyone started to file out the OR, "who was he? we got to call someone or run a test to see what family he's got?" Ghost said turning to looked at Price but finding Price facing the patient on the bed.

Ghost and Gaz looked at each other in worry wondering if Price knew the man, but before they would say anything, Price's hand slowly went up to the towel and slowly removed it...

Revealing-

"...Johnny?"

!!This was inspired by a scene from a doctor show but i dont remember the name! If anyone knows, PLZ tell me the name of the show to give some credit!!

[ineffable-me4004]

Humans were never meant to exist (Yap session)

Some of the most tragic homes I've seen were merely a shelter, something to fend against the elements, and nothing more. It leads me to wonder which is the real tragedy? Is it being forced to abandon what we could've been, our morals, or whatever It may be to simply survive? Is it a tragedy when it is no longer an option to live but a choice to not die? Is that the real tragedy? The loss of desire? The lack of want? The right to live being taxed? In which all that remains is need? Though there isn't a loss or lack of desire, is there? It is surely there but neglected out of necessity; all that remains is unfulfilled longing. The tragedy, which is our system that ensures we no longer need to be animals, we no longer need to survive and hunt and defend, that we can be civilized, continues to fail? And oftentimes on purpose. What is wrong? What is wrong with this system? What is wrong with those who made it? Is that not a question we often find ourselves asking? What is wrong?

What is wrong with the brain? The body? The systems and the histories and the children and the economy and environment! What is wrong with it all! With me! With them! Is that not why we create science and philosophy and religion? to figure out what is wrong with it all? And do we not categorize to determine what is right? Maybe not; I am not a scientist, nor am I a philosopher, and I'm certainly not religious. I think. It's surface leveled of me to simply say it is about the wrong with our world. I know better, I know that it is also about our curiosity, our seemingly never-ending hunger for understanding. But bear with me. Isn't it something we often find ourselves asking? What is sin? What is immoral? What is the issue, the problem, what is wrong? And we have a variety of answers to choose from. We've had a millennium to decide for ourselves, to pose the question. I sometimes wonder if we are what's wrong? Is the common denominator simply us? Humans? Are we always trying to discover what is wrong because we know intuitively that we are simply wrong as a species? Humans were never meant to exist. We Were a 1 in a million chance. Is that perhaps the problem? Is it simply that nothing we do or think or feel will ever be right because our mere existence was wrong, and flawed and parasitic to begin with? Are humans just inherently wrong? But wait--my mother told me that by saying we were "never meant to exist" would imply there is an order, that there is some code, something that predetermines existence. Life, What is meant to be, and what is right. That statement would imply something fateful. If we were never "meant" to exist, then why do we? If there is some divine set of rules and codes determining the privilege and curse of existence, why did it mess up? Am I wrong? Perhaps I'll never be right if this is the case.

[furiosophie]

“Ghost?” Soap asks as he pulls open the door, knife still in hand, baby still wailing. “What are ye doin’ here?”

“What am I doing here?” Ghost throws back at him, brows creased and eyes downright murderous, the kind of look that back at base would mean Soap is about to run laps until he pukes. “You just disappeared for a bloody week, Johnny! Didn’t even tell Price where you were going, aren’t answering your fuckin’ phone, what the hell do you think I’m doing here?”

“Right,” Soap says because yes right, he has a vague memory of Ghost texting him, but he also doesn't really have a clue where his phone is right now and he definitely wasn’t aware it’s been a week until he just mentioned it. For a moment Ghost looks like he’s going to take him by the shoulders and shake, and then his eyes land on Joey, and he frowns harder as if he only just noticed that Soap is holding a screaming child.

“You knock someone up, Johnny?” he asks and it sounds oddly offended but mostly like he’s taking the piss, so Soap is about to tell him to fuck off when there’s a loud crash from the bathroom, followed immediately by a high shriek. He whips around, trips over one of Cass’ tiny toddler-sized shoes, and nearly impales himself on the damn knife if it wasn’t for Ghost grabbing him by the arm to hold him steady.

“Give me the baby,” Ghost says like he says give me that gun when they’re hunched over in the dirt, bullets flying past their heads, so Soap does.

to you i can admit (that i'm too soft for all of it)

[read on ao3]

ship: john "soap" mactavish/simon "ghost" riley

words: 19 220, completed

tags: mw iii fix-it, set between danger close and trojan horse, kid fic, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, getting together, ghost fell first, soap fell harder, ghost is just some guy (tm), jk this still has 09 ghost backstory, fellas is it gay if the superior officer you've been lowkey flirting with for four years drops everything to help u raise ur sisters kids, this is both a hallmark movie and me processing grief so godspeed, canon- typical violence, mentions of past childhood abuse, not beta read we die like- qunshot

[s4dgayanime]

okay listen I commented on someone’s post about Simon and John meeting in their civies and then ghost and soap meeting as soap transfers into 141 and gay activities ensue etc etc

HOWEVER I cannot for the life of me find OP’s response to my comment (ik they responded) and I am not with all my faculties atm to I am just dropping the link in this post for anyone and everyone but especially that one person (I hope you see this). But fr pls read it is incredible and I can’t wait for the next update.

Ellipsis by Osymed on ao3

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/46229254"><strong>Ellipsis</strong></a> (59273 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osymed"><strong>Osymed</strong></a><br />Chapters: 14/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Call%20of%20Duty%20(Video%20Games)">Call of Duty (Video Games)</a><br />Rating: Explicit<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply<br />Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley<br />Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John Price (Call of Duty), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)<br />Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Author Has Only Watched Other People Play Call of Duty, Military Inaccuracies, Simon "Ghost" Riley is Bad At Feelings, Protective Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish Has an Accent, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Ghost loves being a spooky bitch, Featuring Soap's little pout, No beta we die like 09 ghost, author doesn't know how to tag, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Canon-Typical Violence, At this point author has watched playthroughs so many times it's as if they played the game, Baking<br />Summary: <p>Simon thinks a bar in Glasgow is the best place to experiment not wearing his mask. Simon is wrong.</p><p>Or</p><p>Simon walks into a bar, slips on Soap.</p>

[mockerycrow]

🍊?

🍊 = Do you have a trusted beta reader or are you more of the ‘Not Beta Read We Die Like Men’ type?

i have no beta readers :-( but it’s okay, #not beta read we die like 09 gaz, soap, and ghost

[furiosophie]

Ghost lets himself be pulled up slightly, his hand just as steady on Soap's thigh. "That what you need, Johnny?" he asks, licking his lips behind the balaclava. Soap’s eyes drop to his mouth, flick back up. "You wanna draw blood? Be in control?" "Lt–" Soap starts, lips parted on a rough exhale. A plea or a warning, Ghost can't tell. He's too focused on the way Soap's pupils dilate, and the way the edge of the knife digs into the fabric at his throat. When Graves rears his head not ten days after Las Almas Ghost starts questioning Soap's loyalty, and with it whatever's left of his own sanity.

not from the absence [read on ao3]

ship: john "soap" mactavish/simon "ghost" riley

words: 41,011, completed

tags: canon-typical violence, post-cod mw2 (2022), the boys deal poorly with the las almas fallout, angst with a happy ending, slow burn, literal sleeping together, hurt/comfort, but the kind where you cut each other open with a knife, mutual pining, unresolved sexual tension, emotional constipations more fucked up cousin, mostly bc ghost buried his feelings deeper than his own corpse, post-traumatic stress disorder, unhealthy coping mechanisms, whats wrong with me is also wrong with you typa vibe, minor character death, (none of the 141), ghost POV, 09 ghost backstory, epistolary elements, not beta read we die like roach

COVER/CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5