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[ghcstao3]

haha wow guys…. can’t believe you’re making me write a part two of this…… haha ok if you insist….

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the sting of soap’s disappointment following the most recent assassination attempt is shortly resolved when only a week later, as he reads in the candlelight, he feels the cool press of a blade gentle against his throat.

he’s smiling before he can stop himself. there could only be one person silent enough to manage such a trick.

“back so soon?” he asks the shadow. he closes his book, careful to keep still. the blade wasn’t meant to hurt unless he moved.

a low hum. “thought i might catch you off guard the second time.”

“sorry to disappoint.” soap feels the pressure disappear, and slumps back in his seat. he lolls his head back to peer up at the assassin, who looms over him, staring with that same dark, piercing gaze.

“don’t worry,” the assassin consoles. “you could never disappoint, your majesty.”

soap laughs. “isn’t it too early to be making assumptions like that? we’ve hardly met.”

a gloved hand, still partially curves around the hilt of a blade, draws a line across soap’s jaw. a gentle caress, met by the bitter kiss of cold steel as his assassin shifts his hold.

“that’s all i need,” the assassin teases. “you’re an easy read.”

soap scoffs, letting his head fall back forward. the assassin makes his steps audible as he backs away.

“well, at least give me a name before you disappear again,” he pleads. “so i know whose title might leave my lips when you inevitably succeed.”

a pensive silence, consideration that soap should not be allowing such a man.

“ghost,” he finally offers.

“ghost,” soap echoes, almost wistfully. he isn’t surprised, when he turns in his chair and sees that ghost is gone yet again.

soap sighs, though his disappointment this time is brief. a second visit is no coincidence—something tells him ghost would most certainly return.

and the prince already finds himself anticipating that very moment.

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It really is a shame that Ghost so rarely takes his mask off outside, because he’s made to be seen in the sun, Soap thinks. Privately, quietly.

It’s not his fault Simon has cheekbones like he was sculpted by a loving god. A nose with a broken bump that catches the light just so. Eyelashes that fan over his cheeks as he squints a little from the brightness.

That one’s a particular shame, because his eyes can look red midday, and amber right at dusk; but when he squints he gets this little furrow in his brow. That’s compensation enough for hiding those eyes, since Soap isn’t normally deprived of them.

Sun makes him look healthier, puts some color in his pale cheeks. Soap would bet money that he’d freckle given the time. He’s comforted some by the soft moles speckled on his face, but that’s another kind of torment.

Anytime he sees a hint of them—or really, one particular mark right at the corner of Ghost’s jaw—he wants to reach out and graze them. Feel the blood in his skin, under his own two palms.

Soap resigns himself to looking, and occasionally sketching. It makes him itch for color. He wants to capture it Ghost, in his golden, healthy, human glory.

Maybe it’s better though, to stay in grayscale. ‘Makes the real sight that much more precious.

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soapghost circus au

ghost’s an extreme motorcycle stunt performer - globe of death, riding on his back wheel along tightropes, that sort of thing

soap’s a fire breather/dancer. he’s a roaming performer; he just finds empty spaces or bored people and starts twirling

he pretends not to notice the way he always wanders towards a certain tent every night to watch a certain masked daredevil defy gravity. he thinks he's slick and that ghost won't notice him in the crowd, completely forgetting that he's carrying something that happens to be on fire

ghost couldn't miss him if he tried

one day off, soap's trialing fire whips; he loves the loud crack and the way the flame licks through the air and maybe he's a little too impatient to practice with non flaming whips first, even though he's never used one before

he's covered in soot and fine welts where the tip of the whip keeps flicking back up at him, cutting through his shirt and stinging his skin but he doesn't let that stop him. it starts to stick to him, damp with sweat and blood and he's quick to strip it off; throwing it to the side to keep practicing

when soap finally gets a few good cracks in a row and breaks to celebrate, he almost jumps out of his skin when he sees the masked rider leaning against a trailer watching him

of all the times he's wanted ghost to talk to him, this is not one of them

he wanted to impress him, dance for him with his flaming batons and be mesmerised by his fluidity and skill

not catch him filthy and struggling with something as basic as a whip

he's ready for ghost to ream him out for not having control over the whip - he's known throughout the circuit for expecting utter perfection in his routines - but when ghost finally does speak, it's only to ask if he's done for the day

soap falters for a moment. he wanted to get some consistency with the whip before he stopped, but he's starting to feel the hours of practice; muscles aching and skin blistered with minor burns

he says he is and ghost pushes off the trailer, nodding his head to make soap follow. he brings him back to his trailer and tells him to clean up then takes out his personal med kit to treat the grazes on soap's skin

soap's shocked; for all that he loves to watch ghost perform, they've never really talked before

part of why he joined the circus was so he wouldn't be a burden on anyone, the oldest in a family with too many mouths to feed and not even time to nurture, and here he is taking up ghost's valuable practice time be he wasn't good enough to handle his own discipline. he tries to brush him off, downplaying the burns and tries to leave before half them can be treated but ghost just glares and orders him to sit back down

ghost does expect perfection from himself but it isn’t out of any malice or ego; it's bc he knows if he isn't perfect, he could very easily die. he’s picked a dangerous profession and he gives it the respect it deserves. there isn't any shame in being a novice or failing at something; he thinks there's a lot of beauty in having the courage to get back up again and again

so every day he watches soap practice and bullies him into his trailer to put him back together bc he knows he won't do it by himself

and every night soap wanders over to ghost's section of the fair grounds, in awe of his skill and wishing he could be worthy of the care he gives him

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Kitty soap rubbing himself on everyones legs leaving fur behind on their pants?

another menace joined the chat

affectionate lil kitty

Also kitty!Soap almost never leaves Ghost so expect to see his fur on Ghost 24/7

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rough week

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i can’t find that reverse trope list but no one being convinced that ghost and soap are dating

the fact is just… beyond them. they flirt all the time, they’re always in close proximity, honestly they’ve possibly even kissed in public despite rules in fraternization—yet no one believes they’re dating. not even price or gaz.

apparently they seem “incompatible”—whatever that’s supposed to mean.

soap jokes that the ghost must be incapable as such a thing as romantic relationships. ghost jokes that they must be too straight.

but whatever. if it helps them to stay out of trouble in the long run, then what the hell. even if it’ll take a lot of convincing that they’ve been dating by the time a wedding inevitably rolls around.

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shake that booty

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prince soap is no stranger to assassination attempts. while they’re not frequent occurrences, they happen often enough that they’ve since lost their… effect.

he’s had guards fend off his attackers, has defended himself against assassins. but he finds his most efficient method of keeping his life is distraction—acting so nonchalant, anticipating every move, talking about whatever comes to mind. he manages to both charm and confuse assassins until their capture, and he honestly finds it quite entertaining.

the newest attempt had been by a man named ghost—mysterious as ever, terrifying as ever, soap hadn’t even heard him slip into his room like he does most. but he feels a presence, and that’s what has him speaking to silence:

“it’s rude to sneak up on someone, you know.”

a shift in the air, but no response. not even a breath. soap turns from his desk, mildly startled by the imposing figure cloaked in black.

“come to kill me, have you? like all the others.”

the assassin tilts his head almost curiously, before a deep, rough voice is suddenly invading the quiet. “not the first time, then?” he quips.

soap shakes his head, the edges of a grin creeping up on his face. they usually never engage in conversation. “hardly. though i have to say i’m impressed by your stealth.”

the assassin mockingly bows his head. he says nothing, and soap huffs, having been so excited by the prospect of talking with one of the people sent to kill him.

he pushes to his feet, only taking a single step toward the figure, testing. “well? are you going to kill me or what?”

dark eyes regard soap for a long, silent, tense moment. soap finds himself wishing to see beyond the assassin’s mask.

a low hum of consideration, a minute shake of the head. “not just yet,” he decides.

soap scoffs, glancing away to hide the roll of his eyes, to emphasize his exasperation—but once he turns back, somehow the assassin has already vanished.

disappointing, soap thinks.

but little did he know, that his and ghost’s song and dance were only just beginning.

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black panther shifter riley who, after clawing himself out of his grave and massacring an entire facility's worth of cartel members, goes feral and remains in his shifted form for months, maybe even years, haunting the jungle that surrounds the place he'd been kept and tortured in. for a while he's operating on nothing but base, animalistic instinct, with only a sliver of humanity that keeps him from forgetting who he really is—though that hardly keeps him from killing anything and everyone that dares cross him. he can't have another roba happen.

then somehow, eventually, riley is identified—possibly. and an incomplete 141 is tasked with his capture when it’s discovered riley had killed allies unassociated with the cartel, unable to tell friend from foe. it’s difficult—riley isn’t one to go down without a fight—but they manage. he’s taken into custody, albeit with an insistent refusal to shift back into a form anyone could communicate with.

it’s captain mactavish that eventually coaxes riley back into a form that’d nearly been forgotten. jaded by his own years, he’d understood something that no one else had—there’s a difference between an animal’s unrestrained wildness, and a man who has always been wild in his own way, but who’d just been hurt.

riley is just a man who’d undergone and survived terrible things that many others could not. could never.

a surprise to even himself, mactavish gets attached quickly. there’s something undeniably fascinating about riley.

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ghost, who is actually completely technologically literate, going out of his way to embarrass a teenaged joseph by wearing his reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he looks at his phone screen, loudly asking how to do things as simple as taking a picture

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I haven’t posted here in a WHILE so here you go!! Ghoap trash again because I love them <3

[ghcstao3]

you know the art you made of Soap "accidentally" giving Ghost a kiss before going on a mission? (before they started dating) what do you think happened when Soap came back from the mission? :3c

follow up to this post

They start dating of course! <3

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They are the view 🥺🥺

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soap who is seemingly only capable of cooking the most diabolical-looking meals possible vs ghost who is incapable of making anything other than the absolute basics

(safe to say they both start taking cooking classes once they retire, or they might just starve otherwise)

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joseph likes their neighbour john.

he’s funny, has a cool accent, doesn’t snitch when he catches joseph sneaking out (so long as joseph tells him where he’s going, in case anything were to happen). sometimes he even has his nieces and nephews come around, and joseph likes hanging out with them.

but, what’s most important about their neighbour john, is that he seems to be one of few people that can actually make joseph’s uncle simon laugh.

joseph’s uncle, much like his father, is quiet, introverted. he’ll laugh and smile with immediate family, crack jokes and tell stories and give some damn good advice—but outside of their home, uncle simon always reverts to a calm, polite demeanour, because that’s just how he’s always been around other people.

except for with john. or johnny, as uncle simon calls the neighbour. it makes joseph gag just thinking about how fondly his uncle says it.

but it’s become very obvious, with every time that uncle simon pays them a visit, that if there isn’t something already going on between him and john—joseph would make certain that that would change.

so he gets to work—purposefully kicking his football into john’s backyard and begging his uncle to go retrieve it, causing minor havoc with simon’s car just so john would have to fix it (john’s a mechanic, so joseph knows how to not permanently damage his uncle’s car), claiming there were containers and items that needed to be returned to john. joseph is hellbent on getting them to talk more.

it’s almost miraculous, when john finally invites uncle simon to dinner one of the times simon is on babysitting duty—which was bullshit, joseph is sixteen. but he wastes no time shoving his uncle out the door because finally, finally all his efforts paid off.

and now it’s time to start planning the wedding, obviously.

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possibly niche AU time with something inspired by the game strange horticulture!!!

so. horticulturist!soap who has been running a small shop on the outskirts of a small, dreary town named undermere for years, since having inherited it from his grandmother—though, he’s really been there all his life, having taken great interest in the plants that his grandmother had kept. he’ll sometimes venture out in search of new fungi, herbs, flowers, because he has an insatiable need to learn, but ultimately he feels most comfortable in the small shop.

obviously, because he gathers new plants that he’s never seen before, soap must rely on research in order to properly identify everything and be certain of their uses and precautions to take. he couldn’t really say when it started, but a quiet, mysterious librarian who goes by the name ghost has always helped him with this. will even point him in the direction of certain growths, or very occasionally provide samples he might’ve collected on his journey to undermere, the rare times he actually visits and helps soap in person. and any information soap requests, ghost will do his best to track it down.

it’s a routine soap enjoys. and while ghost’s visits are few and far between, he cherishes every letter, every page, every book and every sample he receives in the post. soap thinks that maybe one day, he might even confess his feelings to ghost.

then somehow, some way, they’re both dragged into the world of the occult, getting mixed up in murder investigations, rituals, and the summoning of a powerful, immortal creature known as the servant. now, forced together more than ever before, ghost and soap have to rely on one another’s knowledge, they can trust no one but each other, in order to navigate these supernatural events and make sure everyone comes out alive at the other end of everything.

banishing a creature from hell would certainly be no easy task. especially not with the death and devastation it brings wherever it goes.

especially not when it begins to seem like ghost is hiding something from soap.

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fan art of the ghostsoap au from @valiants ! Its do aesthetic and romantic 💘 i fvcking love it! :,D