#Gaz and Ghosts friendship >>>

[neccrowphagus]

Drunken, Sleepy, and Affectionate

Either way, Simon had his mask lifted just over the nose and he was enjoying his drink thoroughly in their booth. Gaz and Price had both gone back to the bar to order more drinks, a beer for Soap and, as a joke, Gaz wanted to get Ghost a fruity drink that would probably send his old man's heart into cardiac arrest. Soap looks over to see Simon smiling softly into his drink and humming a song, looking tired but pleased.

Ever so slowly a smile crept up Soaps face, “You good, Si?”

Ghost blinked slowly and looked over at him with the slightest tilt of his head and nodded, “Mhm.”

The nod must have been too much momentum for the man in his drunken state because he followed that movement foremast’s until his forehead was smooshed on Soap’s forearm. Soap could feel more than head that Ghost was muttering something that vaguely sounded like his name.

“Might be time for us to take you back home huh?” Soap said, letting go of his drink to pay Ghost on the top of the head. It was something only the other three members of the 141 were allowed to do, but Soap’s hand was the most tolerated.

Ghost shook his head softly, and then made a noise of discontentment and Soap laughed a little at his wiggling. When Ghost got really drunk he didn’t talk at all, once Ghost said that he doesn’t like talking much sometimes — used to use BSL a lot in his days of being a sergeant. He felt comfortable enough to not force words out, and by now Soap could distinguish the noises by heart.

“Stay a little longer then?” A nod.

Then Ghost leans in closer and wraps his arms around Soap’s and rests his cheek on the bone of Soap’s shoulder like it was the comfiest thing he could do. The slight fat of his cheeks squished against the bone and Soap smiled at the radiating warmth from Ghost. His face was flushed pink from the drinks, and Soap takes his free hand to tug down the mask.

It’s the opposite of what he wants to do but he was still waiting for the day Ghost takes off his mask just for the two of them. Hopefully it’ll come soon.

For now he knows Ghost would like to be covered in public, and Soap does what the Ghost wishes despite his own.

There’s a thankful little murmur that comes from Ghost, making Soap smile softly before the breathing of his L.T. evens out completely into a calm sleeping state.

When Price and Gaz come back they hand out the drinks and Price notices Ghost’s closed eyes and snake like hold on the sergeant and gives a little smile. Gaz is quick to take a picture.

“As long as you send me that I won’t snitch ta him.” Soap says, and Price nods the same.

[ceilidho]

Ghost is the kind of man where most people just assume he’s a recluse and doesn’t want to be bothered during his free time, so both Soap and Price are shocked when Gaz is like “? He’s been over to my place several times. He’s a great guest.”

[imaginesheaven]

Lonely Water (GN!Reader x TF141)

Lonely Water

GN!Reader x TF 141 (platonic)

Summary: You crash into the ocean with a helicopter during a mission. Waiting for your hopefully on time rescue you relive some of your favorite memories of your team. Kind of inspired by the song “Hold Back The River” by James Bay.

Callsign: Phoenix

Length: Around 2.3k words

Warnings: Swearing as always, angst, mentions of injuries, drowning

“Mayday! Eagle 3 is coming down in the middle of the ocean. The pilot is dead and I have no fucking clue how to fly this thing! … Oh, fucking hell…”

There is nothing but darkness around you. The mysterious but dark night sky with thousand shining stars above you and the deadly ocean lurking beneath you. The water is just waiting for you to lose the last of your endurance so you can sink into its cold embrace.

“I’m stronger than you think”, you hiss at the tiny waves of dark ocean water, but you are actually not sure how much longer you will survive. The cold of the sea comes creeping in what feels for hours now. It made itself a home in your bones so deeply freezing that your lips have turned already blue. The feeling in your arms and legs starts to fade just like your will of survival.

The helicopter sunk within minutes after the horrific crash into the water. There was literally nothing left to cling onto. You wouldn’t be Jack clinging for dear life onto a wooden door, while your true love stays safely above the freezing water.

The thought of the Titanic brings a weak smile onto your lips. At least you still got your humor with you to keep you company.

Darkness fills your mind with the sinking dread that your team probably wouldn’t be fast enough to rescue from this death trap. Your form floats on the water like a dead man hoping to delay the bitter end for just another few minutes.

The exhaustion slowly takes over as your eyes flutter shut desperate for a moment of rest. Cold water comes rushing over your face since the ocean was waiting for its chance to drown you in its embrace. The water is merciless. Adrenaline rushes through your vein bringing back your will to fight. You swim with weak strokes back to the surface. How much longer can you keep up against the sea?

“Oi! Not so fast, Phoenix!”, a familiar voice behind you yells out. The dirt beneath your shoes crunches as you jog through a patch of trees. Wait, a minute. The water surrounding you has vanished? This can’t be real, right? It hast to be a memory.

“Too bad you are so slow, Soap. You could easily catch up with me if you would work out a bit more”, you reply to the familiar voice behind you. Soap stares at you speechless for a second before he speeds up to catch you. Laughing you send him a wink and even put more speed on to outrun him more than easily.

Soap grunts with exhaustion ready to bring you down with him. He jumps forward his arms stretched out. This man is an open book for you for years now. Still grinning you make a step to the side completely out of his reach. Soap falls to the ground without you.

Absolutely pumped you start your little victory dance knowing exactly that in the distance Price, Gaz and Ghost are watching the two of you with binoculars. “That was quite a fall Soap took there”, the Captain comments the downfall of the poor Scott, “Pay up, Gaz.” The young soldier lets out a groan but always pays his bet debts.

“Phoenix could outrun us all, Gaz, never think otherwise”, no matter how often Ghost sees you running he is always mesmerized by your endurance.

“How can you be so damn fast?”, Soap can’t believe he lost once again. You give him a half shrug with your shoulder, “I imagine Death chasing me and what do we say to Death?”

“Not today”, you whisper smiling. The thought of your teammates brings you pure joy despite the fact you are probably going to drown. The only family you ever had and ever needed. For a second you close your eyes hoping to see more memories.

“So, your callsign is Phoenix. What’s the story behind it?”, Gaz asks you with a bright smile on his lips. Sometimes he reminds you of a little boy in a candy store. You can’t believe how much happiness his happiness can bring you.

“Well…”, you start your not so exciting story, but Soap interrupts you immediately: “Phoenix survived a car crash with a big explosion and came back out of its ashes like a Phoenix. Tada! The callsign was born!”

The silence in the room is deafening before you burst out with laughter, “What the hell, Soap?! No, that’s not what happened!” Everyone except Gaz gets a good laugh from this story. He looks so terribly confused and kind of intimidated at the same time.

“Poor Gaz is probably traumatized for the rest of his life. I like to burn things and someone else already had the fucking callsign Pyro so I had to improvise”, you explain him the situation with a few words. The young soldier rolls his eyes. Still a tiny smile on his lips can be seen.

“Have you any idea how hard it was to get Phoenix and Soap as both demolition freaks on the team? Explosions. Fires. Laswell was not happy at all”, Price recalls his quite one-sided conversation with her. The only thing she said was “NO!” over and over again. Well, she also said “FUCKING HELL FOR SURE NOT!” once. But Captain Price gets what he wants in the end.

A tiny tear rolls down your face, but you can’t feel anything anymore. The cold crept into every single fiber of your body.  In the end it doesn’t matter anyway. You are still surrounded by water so what matters a single tear escaping? It’s the only one. Way too tired you can’t share more than that tiny tear with the ocean.

“Are you fucking serious? You could have died!”, you hiss angrily at Ghost as you patch the bullet wound in his side up. The tough soldier keeps quiet letting you work. “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall without a single thought behind those eyes. Except for sacrificing himself for someone else”, you keep going with your monologue. No one dares to speak like that to him. Except you. It’s always you.

Ghost can’t see how your hands are shaking. How the fear takes over your already worry-ridden mind. How you blame yourself for not being fast enough in the end. You could have prevented this from happening.

But Simon knows you better than you yourself sometimes, “Not for anyone. Only for you, Phoenix. I’m sorry, but please stop worrying. Stop blaming yourself. In the end it was my decision. That’s what we do for each other. Keeping each other safe, right?”

Not answering you put away the first med kit finally done with patching him up. Ghost isn’t the one with the soft side, but with you it is so easy to feel safe for once. You stand up hoping to run from this conversation. His hand stops you dead in your tracks as he grabs your wrist, “Right?”

A slight smile appears on your lips still not turning around to face him, “Of course… but you are still a brick wall.” Simon can’t help himself but smile too behind his mask.

What have you done? If Simon would be here with you, he would hold this whole conversation against you. It’s the same reason that has brought you into the middle of the ocean. You wanted to keep them safe. Your team. Your family.

The helicopter was loaded with explosive meant to kill. Bombs. Soap’s favorite. There was no time to defuse them. You had not a single second to think about it. Just enough time to act on impulse. What a great idea to bring the helicopter down over the ocean far away to hurt someone else. But what about you?

“No, you are not stronger than me, Gaz”, Soap puts down the money for his bet. There is never a dull moment with those clowns. A tiny smile appears on your lips as you nurse your lonely drink in your hand.

“What’s so funny?”, Price notices your rather happy facial expression. “Nothing, just happy to be alive”, you reply simply. The Captain doesn’t need an explanation what you mean exactly. He just knows. You don’t need to elaborate how they give you a feeling of being home. How they are like the family you never had before in your life. They are everything you need to be happy.

But now it is time to let go.

Tired you keep your eyes closed as the cold water pulls you down into its embrace. You are not scared anymore to give up this time. Only gratefulness and happiness are present in your heart and mind. The joy you experienced is more than enough for a whole lifetime.

For the last time you open your eyes to see the darkness around you. It was the only friend you had the last few hours. The tiny waves trying to lull you into a memories-filled sleep. The cold making it easier to let go. You have been tired for so long already. Tiny air bubbles escape and leave you behind.

The darkness lurks beneath you, but above the water surface shines a strange light. Is that the beacon of hope you were looking for the whole time? There are voices too, but you can’t understand what they are yelling. You are sinking further and further. Far away from the light.

Above the lonely water your team is looking for you desperately.

The thought sends a surge of energy through your body. As hard as you can you wave your arms and legs completely uncoordinated. Still the movement brings you closer to the surface. You can’t give up now. Not so close to them.

Your whole body is numb and hurts at the same time terribly. The ocean gives its best to keep you to itself. The cold clouds your mind. Are you paddling into the right direction? Are you going further down?

Then your arm breaks through the surface. But that’s all you had left in you.

Something grabs your hand so tight you almost screamed out loud because of the pain. Your head is still underwater. There is another tightness in your lungs screaming for just a tiny bit of fresh air.

Slowly you get dragged out of the darkness. Leaving the ocean behind. You take a gasping breath. The world outside the water is so overwhelming. The lights blind you for a moment. The loud noises roar in your ears. Pure chaos. For a moment you miss the calming darkness of the ocean.

A slight smile would appear on your lips as you see the faces of your teammates, but that’s too much for now. Gaz and Soap have their hands tightly on your arms, while Price and Ghost try to heave you into the helicopter by your tactical vest. All your gear got extremely heavy soaked with ocean water to the brim. You wish you could help them out, but you reached your limit of energy a long time ago. They lower you to the ground finally freed of the water.

“We got Phoenix. Go, Nik”, Price gives his order to Nicolai. Your favorite Russian pilot. Ghost and Soap try to get rid of your tactical vest together. Gaz stands ready with a blanket to warm you up. They keep talking to you, but you can’t quite follow their words. Your mind still frozen in place.

“Hey, hey. You broken?”, John puts his hand on your ice-cold cheek to get your attention. This time you can manage a weak smile, “Define broken, Captain.” He lets out a deep sigh full of worry but more than happy to hear your voice once again.

“Don’t ever do this again, muppet. You were out there the whole night. We- … We literally thought you were gone. Want to sit up?”, Price grabs your shoulder softly too scared to hurt you after what you went through. Ghost on the other side helps you too to sit up.

The sun starts to rise on the horizon bringing another day to this earth. Another day you are able to see. Another day to be alive.

“You damn lucky bastard. The endurance from your jogging probably saved your ass out there”, Simon can’t believe he gets another chance to see you again. It breaks his heart to see you beaten up and weak like this, but you are alive.

“What do we say to Death?”, Soap asks you grinning like always. “Not today”, you reply enjoying the little inside joke the two of you have.

Price puts his leg behind your back so you can relax yourself against him. Ghost rests his hand on your shoulder letting himself feel grateful to have you back. Soap sits next to you. Shoulder against shoulder. Just like out in the battlefield. Gaz holds one of your hands in his to get them back to normal temperature.

Your little family.

Lonely Water

Let us hold each other

[timetravellingshinigami]

Black Widow oc/reader joins Task Force 141.

This is the kind of scenario I keep day dreaming about.

[void-of-unparalleled-chaos]

The People Who Haunt Us (DpxDc Prompt)

Due to the Anti Ecto Acts, Danny decides it would be safer to leave the United States and live abroad.

One late evening walking down the streets of London, he sees some blonde dude get thrown out of a bar. Normally he would keep walking, but this guy is surrounded by ghosts. That's not too unusual in itself. It's relatively common for him to see one or two ghosts trailing after a living. What gives him pause is the sheer amount of ghosts haunting this drunk, sad-looking trenchcoat man.

[24-05txt]

Soap comes to and he's already walking. This on its own isn't entirely surprising because it's not the first time this has happened. There's just never enough time in the day. He finishes one thing, and then it's right onto the next; steadily marching from one task to another. When most of his life is spent walking, he learns to tune it out. Mental space better wasted on something else.

Present again in his own mind, he takes time for a perfunctory sit-rep. The skies are mostly clear, sparse clouds, and the forest around him is lush with foreign vegetation. He's traveling light, just basic gear and his firearm, a—

... hold on, he doesn't have a firearm. Scratch that, he doesn't have arms.

Soap stumbles, suddenly dizzy, and promptly trips over himself in a heap of new limbs, leaving his field of vision blocked by a wall of blue-grey that he has the horrifying realization is attached to him.

"What the fuck?" He starts, trying and failing to move his fingers or toes. "What the fuck?!"

He's echoed by Gaz somewhere behind and above him, a slightly higher-pitched "What the fuck?" And then, "Captain?!"

"Gaz?" Soap (lacking fingers or toes) wiggles a set of limbs, expecting arms and instead finds that he's stiltedly unfolding a set of wings he'd tangled himself in. He has wings. "Steaming fucking christ."

"Is that a fucking pegasus?" Asks Price, sounding far too calm for the situation at hand. It's quickly remedied when he adds, "Is that a unico—Fuck! What the fuck!" And, honestly, if the Captain is panicking then it's a very bad day indeed.

What seems like hours of shouting, swearing, and flailing pass in a slightly less than hysterical blur for all three of them before they're able to calm enough to take stock of the situation (beyond the well established fact that they all appear to be horses of some variation.)

"Why's Gaz the unicorn?" Soap asks, trying his damndest to distract himself from the very real stress of having two more legs and a total of four new limbs he's not used to. "That's Scotland's national animal, the fuck is a pegasus good for? It should have been me."

"Soap, Jesus Christ, Fuck off." Gaz doesn't look over at him, focused solely on his hooves, trying to stay upright without swaying. His fur (is it fur or hair on a horse? Soap never cared much for horses) is a deep violet, darkest along his spine, but his chest, belly, and legs below the knees are solid white. (Are those the knees? Or are those the ankles? Fuck, if he'd known this was in his future he'd've had a horse phase.) He is also, to Soap's irritation, a unicorn; the horn is the same color as his fur, and he has a little beard that matches his mane and tail, both tight and coily like his human hair.

"Don't think so hard about it," he advises, swallowing his own nausea from making the same mistake. Hypocrite, he is. Actually, he remembers hearing somewhere that horses can't vomit, and wonders dizzily if that applies to pegasi as well. "The movin', I mean. Y'ken what to do if you let your body do it."

"Muscle memory?" Gaz asks, incredulous and still a little hysterical. "How can I have fucking muscle memory when the body is brand new?"

Soap shrugs, then becomes hyper-aware of the fact that horses cannot shrug, despite the fact he just did, and is thrust head-long into another fit of nausea.

"Think am gonna boak."

"No, you're not," says Price, with all the authority of his station. (If your Captain says you're not going to throw up, then by God you better keep a lid on it.) "He's right, though. It's best not to think too hard about how to move, just move and keep your head screwed on while you do it." Despite the surety of his tone, Soap can hear him huffing out every breath through his nose, almost snorting.

"Sir," he and Gaz acknowledge at the same time, and Soap even goes so far as to straighten his posture—solidly not thinking about what muscle groups he has to engage to do it. Just straighten up (and fly right—oh god.)

Soap doesn't know where to rest his gaze. Down, and he sees his hooves (upsetting), up and he sees Gaz and his Captain (also upsetting), too far up and he's just looking through the trees at a picturesque sky (not upsetting, but less than helpful).

"I'm gonna," he starts, then quickly falters, still lokking at the sky and unsure of what, exactly, he's gonna do. (Not vomit, that's for sure.) "Gonna... walk. Around. I'm gonna walk a perimeter." He sounds a little more steady as he realizes that's exactly the thing he needs right now—he needs to be alone for a moment, needs a minute to actually get his shit straight without being distracted by his teammates doing the same.

"Sergeant..." Price's warning tone is slightly strained, and though Soap is watching wind blow through the leaves, he doesn't hear any movement from the Captain's direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Captain, I won't be goin' far. Just need some air Gaz hasn't breathed first."

"Hey." The protest is weak, made more for a sense of routine than any real offense.

Soap obediently waits until he has the reluctant go-ahead from his Captain before he ducks off the beaten path and into the surrounding woodland.

It's easier to look around here, without the risk of catching a glance of some major discrepancy that'll make his stomach turn. He goes far enough that he can only catch glimpses of Gaz's purple coat through the trees before he turns and starts his perimeter.

It's slow-going. He’s trying to get used to looking down and seeing hooves instead of feet, and most his success comes from cataloging them like they belong to someone else, and not him. He notices they're cloven, like a cow's, and a blue so dark it's almost black. Further up, toward what he's decided to call his knees, his fur lightens to a mottled cerulean. Beyond that he's unsure—those observations had to be made in furtive glances because if he looked too long, he'd notice himself walking, and if he noticed himself walking he'd be sent stumbling and cursing into the underbrush.

He's able to notice other things about himself with detached curiosity; he doesn't have a horse's tail, and instead has large, wide tailfeathers, like a bird. When at rest, his wings settle snuggly against his sides, but if he properly relaxes them they droop toward the ground (this was another event that sent him stumbling into the underbrush. Moving naturally was one thing, but trying to single out a single set of limbs he hadn't been born with made him forget about his legs for a moment. The front set. Forelegs?)

Completing half his circuit finds him back on the dirt path, this time behind the Captain and Gaz, speaking in low tones as they put their heads together. Price's coat is a sort of green he doesn't quite know the name of, like the grass turf of a golf course after a bit of rain so there's some mud around the edges of everything. Like Gaz, his legs up to the knees are white, although he also has a diamond-shaped splotch over his shoulderblades. Lucky bastard seemed to be a normal horse, save for the fact his stupid mutton chops made it over somehow.

"If he can't have the hat, suppose it only makes sense he gets to keep his dick-tickler," Soap mutters as he crosses again from dirt path to dense foliage. It's only after a few seconds of no response that he realizes he was waiting for one at all.

Ghost.

Soap spins around, but the lieutenant isn't behind him (no other horses aside from himself, the Captain, and Gaz for that matter). He walks back out onto the path, but sees no sign of anyone or anything that could be Ghost, although Price turns around to give him a concerned look. (He's half convinced that he may be exaggerating the level of expressiveness his Captain has right now, but he's already committed to not thinking too hard about how his hindbrain interprets their situation.)

"Where's Ghost?" He already knows the answer, but Price's sudden look of alarm just confirms it.

They don't know.

[glorybean]

IMO, the Ghoap fandom is sleeping on the Highland Games. Here is Soap, proudly Scottish and vocal about it, and I've never seen a fic or art about him attending or participating in a Highland Games competition. The Highland Games are the second oldest international athletic games competition and predate the modern Olympic Games. Many of the events are tests of physical strength.

The caber toss:

(video from my home county!)

Hammer toss:

Sheaf toss:

Ardblair Stones/McGlashan Stones (not traditionally part of the Highland Games, incorporated in the 1980s) based on the tradition of Clach cuid fir, ie: Manhood Stones

Other athletic events include stone put, weight for height, and tug of war

You look me in the eye and tell me that Ghost wouldn't have a field day with these events, either to show off for Johnny or as a genuine challenge. I think Soap would be good at the Sheaf Toss/Weight for Height (precision and strength).

Other events include music (piping and drumming), dance and herding dog trials. Non-competitive elements include cultural food and regional specialties, craftsman demonstrations, and of course shopping.

Disclaimer: I have no Scottish heritage, please correct me where I am wrong!

[personwhowrites]

Traffic

Cw: Fluff just pure fluff between the group

Task Force 141 x platonic gn!Reader maybe some Simon Ghost Riley x gn!Reader, John Soap Mactavish x gn!Reader.

Wc:2.4k

You sat in the car, the smell of smoke, blood and mud stained the inside of the car. Price was driving the car, Gaz sat in the passenger seat, while you were squeezed between Ghost and Soap, the wet mud their skin not making it any better. You wanted to sit by the window but Ghost first got in the car, then you but Soap complained that he wanted the window seat, and with your heart of gold you agreed and let Soap take the window seat, unaware of the wet mud on his arms and Ghost’s.

“How much longer?” You ask, looking at the road ahead. “I don't like sitting in the middle..no offense guys.”

“We would have been at the safe house by now.. If someone didn’t blow up the damn car.” Gaz speaks up before looking at Price who frowned at his comment. “How the fuck did you blow the car? Is that like Soap thing to do?”

“I couldn’t see.” Price replies and lets out an annoyed groan.”I see traffic”

“Traffic?” Soap says peering over Price's shoulder pushing you into Ghost's last personal space he had. “Oh wow yeah..”

“Johnny if you don’t sit down and stop pushing them to me I will make you sit down properly.” Ghost mumbles before looking at you with more annoyance. “And you, don’t let Soap push you around.”

“Easy for you to say, you aren’t in the middle..” You reply as Price stops the car in a small traffic jam. “God why is this place so packed now? When we came this way in the morning it wasn’t like this.”

“I don’t even wanna question it..” Gaz says and looks over at you before cracking a smile. “You're getting sandwiched very well huh?”

“If you didn’t call shotgun before me..you would be in my place.” you reply and flip him off as Price turns his head over to you. “It’s already hard being hurt…now I gotta deal with being squeezed.”

“Just relax, we will be at the safe house soon.” Price replies and looks at you. “It’s strange seeing you being squeezed like this.”

“Only thing we need is Soap acting like a three-year-old.” Ghost remarks and looks at Soap who's grinning now. “..Don’t you dare..”

“Oh I shall dare..” Soap replies before taking a deep breath. “Price, I'm hungry, whe do we get to the safe house? I'm bored Price, Price..”

“Why did you even give him any ideas, Ghost..” Gaz groans and turns to face the road. “This line will take forever to move.”

“Just give it some time..” Price says trying to ignore Soap blabbering. “Someone shut Soap up before I do.”

Soap stops talking and looks out the window, to see a couple of kids looking at him. Price sighs and rubs his eyes with one hand, before rubbing his face. Gaz takes his phone out and looks at some text messages. Meanwhile Ghost just.. stares out the road, looking at the color and license of other cars. There was an awkward silence before Gaz phone played loud sound, everyone turned to him wanting an explanation on what on earth was that sound.

“What? Can’t a man listen to a video in peace?” Gaz comments and looks back at his phone before cracking a smile. “Stupid chicken..”

“God, you're gonna become like Price with that type of humor Gaz.” You comment looking over his shoulder. “How is a chicken running after another chicken funny?”

“You just won't understand, your humor is worse than Ghosts..” Gaz mumbles and looks at you now. “You laughed over a slice falling over last week..”

“How is that not funny?!” You exclaim and look at him with some annoyance. “You people don’t understand humor.”

“You laughed over some bread?” Soap questions your humor. “Who in the bloody hell laughs at some bread falling over?.”

“People with humor!” You reply and turn to Soap. “You laugh at Ghost awful jokes..”

“Okay why are you and Gaz dragging my name into this.” Ghost comments turning his head to you. “Do I humor you all or something? Do I need to be harsher? Is that what you both need to stop involving my name.”

“Hey at least you don’t have to put your phone close to your face to read big ass letters.” You say looking at Price who stares at you confused. “What?”

“What do you mean by that..” Price says now turning half his body to you. “You're attacking everyone huh?”

“Aw, come on, I'm not just commenting on the obvious.” You state and give him a warm smile. “You act like one of those dads that would be proud after cutting their grass perfectly.”

“I can see this actually..” Gaz comments looking at Price and smiles. “Bet you put your hands on your hips and sigh deeply taking in the sight of the perfectly cut grass.”

“He wears a different hat, like he has multiple hats for different needs.” Soap adds looking at Price with a smile. “Yep I definitely see it..”

“You three leave the captain alone.”Ghost says, looking at Price and then out the window. “It’s obvious he would never take that bloody hat off for anything.”

“Hold on, did Ghost just…comment on Price?” You say with an amused smile. “Never thought he would do such a thing.”

"There's a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Ghost replies and gives you a slight side eye. “You remind me of dog.”

“Huh?” You blurt and look at Ghost slightly annoyed. “What do you mean by that Ghost.”

“I see it.. Maybe like a chihuahua or pomeranian..” Price says looking at your face. “Or golden retriever.”

“It depends on their mood sometimes.” Soap adds grabbing your face. “But i see mix of chihuahua and pomeranian.”

“Are you guys seriously comparing me to angry dogs?” You mumble looking as Soap as his palms rest on your cheeks. “Why do such a thing?”

“Why compare our humor?” Price questions you and Soap lets go of your face. “Why question the hat I wear and Gaz's humor?”

You stay silent and look at him with a dead serious look and sigh knowing he is right. You were bored that’s all, the traffic hasn’t moved an inch and the blazing afternoon sun hit the windows of the car. Price looked back at the traffic and let out an annoyed sigh. He definitely wasn’t pleased with this nor were the others. Gaz turns his attention back to his phone, which makes you take yours out. Ghost glances over, he sees the password and looks away. Soap glances over as you open a game on your phone.

“What are you playing?” Soap asks now more in your personal space.”I never knew you liked games.”

“Uh, just some random game I found while watching youtube. The ad got me to download it since it seemed good.” You reply and focus your attention on the game. “It’s called Cry Of Divine.. or COD. I'm playing the mobile version but there is a computer and console game.”

“What’s it about? Is it popular?” Soap asks while taking out his phone. “Where can I get it?”

“Your play store?” You say confused and see Gaz downloading it too. “It’s multiplayer, and there are tons of different modes and events for limited items.” You pause and look at your phone. “It’s really fun and you play with many high ranked players.. You can work with people or work alone, it doesn't really matter.”

“What's your username?” Gaz asks wanting to play with you while Soap downloads the game. “I'll add you so we can pass time..”

You give Gaz your username, Soap soon joins in the fun. Price advanced the car slightly, the traffic was still heavy and he was bored. Ghost looked at you and Soap played the game, it was just a shooting game, but it seemed fun. Ghost leaned back on his seat and took his phone out, feeling foolish he elbowed you. You turned to Ghost as he offered his phone for you to add yourself. You didn’t question it and added him. Soon he joined the party and Price looked over.

“Are you all playing?” Price asks, raising a brow. “First time I see grown adults play together in a packed car to pass time.”

“How the bloody fuck did they shoot me though a wall with a damn sniper riffle!” Gaz blurts out shaking his head. “This is so bitch ass.”

“Got them! Up to your left Ghost, you can knife them with the mellevee in your second slot.” You say moving your fingers quickly on your screen. “Soap sniper behind you.”

“Got them” They both reply to your call outs as Price smiles a bit.

“So it’s a game about our jobs technically?” Price asks looking over at Gaz phone. “But you respawn huh?”

“Yep, you should join us captain, then there you can also be our captain.” Soap comments looking up from his phone. “It’s actually really fun.”

Price hesitates for a couple minutes before agreeing, soon all of you are playing the game. ‘Cry of Divine Mobile’. The traffic soon moved and you played for Price yourself, which honestly surprised you. Ghost was getting slightly angry on how he kept dying and his shooting wasn’t perfect as in actual life. Soap on the other hand learned how to get the hang of things and even showed you some tricks he created himself. Ghost looked up from his phone to you, his gaze softened. Price looked at Ghost, through the mirror and questioned his gaze towards you. The car slowly began to move, it seemed like the traffic jam was becoming undone slowly. You looked up from your phone, then glanced over at the cars in front of you. Price gives you a smile though the rear mirror and you smile back. Soap yawned and rubbed his yes, he was ether bored or tired.

“Can one of you wake me up when we get to the safe house?” Soap asked with a yawn and lean against the door. “I would appreciate that.”

“We will..” You reply with your own yawn, before sitting back properly in the middle seat. “Think I might join Soap in his nap.”

“You go ahead, I will make sure to wake you two up.” Price replies and glances over at Gaz who’s also fell asleep. “I will make sure you three wake up..”

You nodded and closed your eyes, you slightly lean to Soap, his head rested on the window. You slowly began to nod your head, showing you needed to sleep. Ghost glance over and shifted in his seat, he didn’t want you to lean on him. Soap shifted in his seat and yawned. You joined his yawn and lean against him. Soap didn’t mind it and put his arm around your neck, giving you some support. Ghost looked over and narrowed his gaze, before Price cleared his throat.

“They do need support and probably somewhere comfortable to sleep..” Price says and looks at the busy road. “They need space, and a warm space..”

Ghost knew what Price was talking about, he turned you and yanked you to his lap. You woke up quickly to the yank and stared at Ghost with great concern. Price chuckled as your heart raced, Ghost stared at you with some annoyance.

“Go to sleep, ill wake you up.” Ghost mumbles in his cold tone. “Just go to sleep.”

You nod awkwardly and rest your head on his chest, you hear his heart beating fast. You looked at Ghost, who was looking out the window. An arm wrapped around you for support, slowly you closed your eyes and felt that both of his hands wrapped around you like a casual hug. One you would properly never feel again. Price now sighs in some relief and looks at Ghost giving a nod of approval to rest up. Ghost leans his own head on the back of the seat and closes his eyes, his arms still tightly around you. Soap soon leans over to Ghost arms, and somehow manages to lay down and put his head on your lap. Gaz meanwhile is happily sleeping and leaning on the chair, the seatbelt keeping him safe. Price drives though the traffic jam making sure you all rest up.

Traffic is something no one expected that it would lead you all to become closer than needed. Traffic is something that made you realize maybe there was something more than friendship with Ghost..maybe even something more with Soap. Traffic, something that made you…happy to see each time when you were with them all.

[c0smonox]

some COD ponies, perchance

[asleepyyeti]

unnervingly domestic

simon's away, but he's worried about his dog (and, maybe, his flatmate). he sends one of his boyfriends over to check on them.

(these are super out of order--this is set before simon can really admit that he's friends with/attached to the reader)

platonic!kyle 'gaz' garrick/reader

[masterlist]

Both you and Luna are dozing on the sofa when the doorbell rings. It had taken a few days to get her to stop moping since Simon had left, but the two of you had gone for a long walk that afternoon, and after a lot of treats, she had finally allowed herself to chill out. Which is why you’re so upset when she jumps off of you, running and yapping at the doorbell. You know it’s not Simon, and you hate that she’s going to be disappointed.

You hook a finger in her collar before you open the door, and when you do, you’re glad you did.

“Ah, Kyle, right?”

“That’s me.”

“Sorry, Simon’s not here right now–Luna, please calm down–”

“It’s alright, love, I'll survive.”

You let her go, and she immediately rushes around Kyle’s legs–careful not to jump up on her hind legs, even when he squats down to pet her. “Good girl, Looney Tune, no jumping, that’s a good girl.” 

“Yeah, Simon said he was on a job, so. It’s just us here right now.”

“I know, love, ‘s why I’m here, actually. Came to check up on you.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s really nice of you. Come on in, then–we were just having a doze on the sofa. You want a cuppa?”

“I’ll never turn one down, what’s on offer?”

“Well, Simon has some weird ones, I don’t touch ‘em when he’s not here, but if you wanted one, I’m sure it’d be fine… let’s see…”

“‘m not too into his fancy stuff, if I'm honest. If you’ve got PG Tips, that’s more than good enough.”

“He won’t let me keep it in the house,” you grumble, “I bought some to make iced tea in the summer and he chucked it out!” Kyle laughs at that, fond, like it’s not the first time he’d heard such a story. “Apparently we’re a Yorkshire Tea household. That okay?”

“Of course! Should’ve guessed he’d take control of your cupboards.”

You flick the kettle on, set up your own hot drink, and push the biscuit barrel towards Kyle. “Got some custard creams, if you want one.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you lean on the counter for a while, silent but for the sound of kettle boiling and Luna huffing occasionally from the sofa.

“So. Not that I’m not grateful, but… what exactly does ‘checking up’ on me entail?”

“You know, I’m not too sure myself.” Kyle takes a bite of his biscuit, chewing thoughtfully. “I guess… well, what does Simon usually do?”

You mull over it for a bit, picturing the evenings the two of you have spent together. “I think we just exist around each other. I’ll cook dinner, and he’ll sit at the table reading like, travel magazines, or whatever it is he reads. Or I’ll be knitting on the sofa while he plays FIFA with you guys, which is genuinely a highlight of my life, please never stop playing FIFA together–”

“Oh, we won’t,” Kyle laughs, “he’s so bad though! It’s crazy that he’s never gotten any better.”

“I know! I'll have to stop what I'm doing to watch the telly sometimes, thinking… what in gods name are you doing? And he gets so mad, but he’s so... restrained about it!”

“Him and John are hopeless. Okay, well, I could probably get Johnny to give me a game of FIFA. Might not be quite as entertaining, though.”

“It’d be nice to see how the game is supposed to be played.”

Kyle laughs at that. “What else does Si get up to?”

You shrug. “Talks to you guys. Eats dinner—did you wanna stay for dinner? Luna’s already had a w-a-l-k, but I try and get her on another after I eat. He normally takes her out when he’s here, only like 15 minutes, just so she’s a little sleepy at night.”

“I’ll never say no to a home-cooked meal or some extra time with my favourite little lady,” Kyle assures you. “But first—let’s show you how the game is meant to be played.”

[reds-skull]

Revenant Side Stories

Story III: Gaz

[Konchar] [Graves] [AO3]

I worked on both this and that Ghost painting I posted earlier in the time I was away from this blog, and I apparently had enough motivation to finish both today haha

If you remember the conversation Gaz and Soap had on the helo in chapter 14 of Not Alive, Nor Dead (the one where they were talking about the worst time they've used their powers), then the events in this story might be familiar...

I enjoyed writing this so much, I absolutely love Gaz (and more specifically rev AU's version of him <3)

Alright enough yapping time for pain

Kyle should be used to the feeling of free-falling. To the air rushing past his ears, to the sting in his eyes as the ground approaches him rapidly. The pull that catches him not a moment too soon, invisible ribbons wrapping him in their safe embrace.

It was perhaps a little naive of him to think gravity will never betray him again.

The whistling wind is what wakes him first, that familiar tune Gaz made his own in the past year. Familiar, but out of place - wasn’t he just running after the HVT…?

Kyle opens his eyes.

The sky warps around him, skyscrapers higher than the heavens towering over him like giants, silhouettes in the night. His body twists uncontrollably, and his view shifts to the ground, people nothing but ants, growing larger and larger-

The sinking feeling in his gut screams one thing, and one thing only.

You’re going to die again.

Several hours earlier

“Sergeant Garrick!” someone calls from behind him. Gaz turns, expecting to have to search for the source in the pre-mission rush of soldiers. He instead instantly zeroed in on a frankly giant man. To his credit, he wasn’t expecting a soldier clad in all black tactical gear, and a stark white skull mask.

Well, only one guy in the SAS that fits this description, “Lieutenant Ghost, sir.” Gaz’s head tilts up to look at the eyes behind the mask.

He’s heard a lot about the legendary revenant, and while most are probably the works of the rumor mill working overtime, just the presence of Ghost emanates a sort of unrivalled power that raises the hairs at Kyle’s nape.

It’s unlikely any of them will see the Lieutenant in action today; he’s here to fill in for Captain Price in overwatch, but he can’t help but have a sort of morbid curiosity, a craving to know if the revenant lives up to the myth.

Ghost motions with his head for him to follow, and begins walking towards the tents that have been set up as their temporary base of operations, “Captain told me you can fly.” he begins.

Gaz smiles nervously, “uh, not exactly. I got gravity manipulation.” they enter the tent, the flurry of activity as disorienting as it is outside, with squad leaders confirming last-minute details about the mission. “Can use it on others as well, but I have to be in direct skin contact.”

“Won’t need it in this op either way,” Ghost rumbles, a somewhat bitter note in his words. A few men do a double take at the two of them, and Gaz suppresses an eye roll.

Being a revenant turned out… different than he thought it would be. Sure, he knew they had superpowers and the ability to converse with extradimensional beings, but he wasn’t ready for the staring.

He knows he’s not human anymore, that he lost a fundamental part of himself the moment he left that helo crash alive, but he doesn’t need to be reminded at any turn.

Perhaps Ghost is onto something with the mask. At least he can roll his eyes all he wants.

Ghost addresses the soldiers in the tent, everyone snapping into attention, “Sergeant Garrick will lead the infil team. Target is at the suite of the Amandi Hotel, possibly guarded and armed.” the Lieutenant scrutinizes them, “I’ll be on overwatch on the comms tower north of the hotel. Helo circles the sky in case we need to extract from the roof.”

He crosses his arms, the perfect image of authority, “any questions?”

“No, sir!” the soldiers in the tent echo.

“Good. Garrick’s team is up in 5.” Ghost’s attention turns to him, “you’ll treat the Sergeant like any other soldier - his powers are irrelevant here.”

Gaz’s eyes widen as the rest of his squad gives Ghost the affirmative. The Lieutenant leaves the tent, ordering the others, and he shakes away from his stupor. A surprisingly warm feeling spreads through his chest.

No time to wonder about Ghost’s intentions, they have a man to catch.

It takes only ten minutes for the mission to go completely off rails.

Ghost wasn’t lying when he said his powers are irrelevant here. With the narrow hallways of the hotel, and lack of loose, heavy objects around ready to be thrown, Gaz is as good as any of his human squad mates.

He grits his teeth, popping out of cover to shoot yet another henchman down. The HVT must be bloody loaded to afford this much manpower.

“Be advised Bravo 6-1, enemy reinforcements approaching your position. I don’t have a clear shot on them.” Ghost’s low voice sounds from his comms.

Gaz returns to cover when a bullet grazes his cheek, and he answers between a hiss of pain, “copy, attempting to advance to the suite now.”

“Stevenson, Ellis, take the left hallway, the rest with me!” Kyle orders the corporals. He’s betting on the fact the henchmen will be too preoccupied with their assault to notice the two soldiers flanking them.

Gaz and his team goes on the offensive, unnerved by the bullets ricocheting around them. A few fast heartbeats later, the hostiles go down with gasps of surprise. He allows himself a moment of celebration, before pushing onwards.

This is another thing he had to learn in his new second life. Turns out, the brass promotes revenants faster than other soldiers, and soon after his Reaping he was promoted to Sergeant. He will probably never forget the nasty looks he got from his old mates after that, people he thought were his friends. Sometimes Kyle wanted to scream that he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t ask to be the only one left alive.

Usually following that thought is a reminder that he very much did. He asked to live. 

Gaz knew what he was wishing for.

Stevenson and Ellis join them, and he makes sure to order most of the squad to watch their six, Ghost’s warning still fresh in his mind.

“Lieutenant, got sights on the HVT?” Gaz radios in.

The comms crackle before he gets an answer, “negative, he went to the back two minutes ago, likely holing up in the bathroom.” he can hear the faint sound of wind through his mic, “stay sharp, this might be a trap.”

“Understood, sir.” 

Gaz holds a fist up to signal the squad to stop, and attempts to listen for any movements inside the suite. Price’s mind reading abilities would’ve been nice to have around right about now…

He lets out a shaky breath. Going in blind never gets less nerve wracking, “Smith, Farage, keep watch on the hallways, Ellis, Stevenson and Wright, prepare for breach in three…”

The soldiers move to their positions, and the moment his count reaches zero, Gaz kicks the door down and begins clearing the room. Every dark corner becomes a potential hiding spot for hostiles, every flickering shadow catches his attention.

The main area of the suite is an open floor plan room, floor-to-ceiling windows making up the whole front part. The city lights twinkle through the clear glass, unaware of the danger that dwells above them.

“Main room clear, moving to the bathroom.” Gaz relays to Ghost and the rest. He lowers his rifle and reaches for the handle. The door creaks ominously when he shoves it open, revealing a dark and completely empty space. He clears it in a few seconds, all the while his confusion grows.

“Ghost” he clicks his comms on, “the HVT isn’t here.”

The Lieutenant is silent for a brief moment, “He didn’t leave the suite, Garrick. Keep searching the other rooms.” Gaz opens his mouth to give the affirmative, when he hears Wright and Stevenson give the clear for the two bedrooms. A twisting feeling in his gut grows.

“Sir, I think we’re missing something-”

Loud bangs echo from the main bedroom, Gaz instantly exiting the bathroom to watch Stevenson go down, “fuck!”

Hostiles stream out of the room in an endless swarm, the rest of his squad taking cover around the suite. “Garrick! What the fuck is going on there?!”

“Stevenson missed a bloody secret room, sir!” Gaz grunts, shooting two men down. From the corner of his eye, he sees Wright push forward, so he joins him.

A shattering sound alerts him to Ghost’s shots, “do you have eyes on the target?!” the Lieutenant’s voice echoes through comms. Another shot rings out, and a body drops to his right.

“Negative!” he answers. Smith and Farage are fighting further out, enemies forcing them back to the hallway, Stevenson motionless on the ground. Wright snarls beside him, his left arm bleeding from a graze. Ellis…

“Sergeant! Behind you!” Ghost shouts. Gaz whips around, to watch the HVT drag himself to the broken windows.

Himself, and the unconscious body of Ellis. Gaz charges forward before the HVT locks eyes with him, a manic sort of fury burning within them.

The bastard smiles at him, blood staining his bright white teeth. He heaves Ellis, dragging him right to the edge.

“You take one more step, and I drop your friend.” the target drawls. 

Kyle stops, raising his arms in surrender, mind rapidly trying to pinpoint the location of each hostile and soldier left in the room. If he could be sure his squad will be able to apprehend the HVT by themselves, he could be free to follow Ellis, and catch him before they both hit the ground.

“Alright.” Gaz swallows thickly, keeping his voice as calm as he can, “we’ll give you what you want, just let him go.”

The target’s smile widens, “tell your soldiers to drop their weapons” he shakes Ellis, Gaz’s heart jumping to his throat. He nods, slowly lowering a hand to his radio.

“All stations, hold fire, we’ve got a hostage.”

The commotion behind him stops abruptly, his soldiers murmuring in confusion but listening to him all the same. Gaz scans the HVT for weapons - a pistol at his right hip, a knife strapped to the other. As long as he doesn’t use those on Ellis, he still has a chance to save him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.” Ghost warns, “I don’t have a clear shot, don’t doom the entire squad to save one man.”

His jaw tightens in response. He’s not going to allow any more of them to die today.

“Good” the target’s voice drips with satisfaction, “at least one of you soldier boys has more than half a brain. Now… I have other matters to attend to, so if you will leave the premises peacefully, that would be helpful.”

“Not without him.” Gaz motions to Ellis.

The HVT tsks, “do I look stupid? I know you’ll shoot my men down the moment I let him go.” his head tilts mockingly, “no, he’s coming with me.”

“Garrick…” Ghost growls. “Ellis’ chances are low. Get the HVT secure and get out.” This is taking too long.

“I prefer to have… insurance.” the target continues.

Gaz’s lips pull back in disgust, “for a cornered man, you’re asking for a lot, mate.”

“Am I cornered, though?”

The telltale click of a trigger shoots adrenaline down Kyle’s limbs, and he moves out of the bullet’s way a second before it reaches him. He grunts as he grasps at the attacker’s rifle over his shoulder, twisting it around his torso to disarm the man.

Lieutenant Ghost’s voice booms through comms, “Bravo, get your guns up! More hostiles are entering your floor!!!”

Gaz barely avoids a fist coming from his left, ducking and dodging a knee to his guts. Gunshots echo behind him, grunts and growls and screams of pain almost deafening.

Two hostiles manage to get a hold of him, and over their massive shoulders Kyle watches in horror as the target pulls Ellis up over the window’s edge, and lets go.

“Corporal Ellis is falling, I repeat, the Corporal is falling!” Ghost yells. Gaz’s heart hammers away at his chest, his breaths becoming shorter and heavier.

Through the cacophony of combat, anger and agony, one voice stands out from the rest.

The HVT’s mirthful laugh, high and grating as he watches Ellis fall down, down, down-

Gaz screams, grabbing the arms around him, and reverting gravity on all three of them. He lowers his head, avoiding the ceiling. His attackers, however, are taken by surprise, and hit their head against the concrete with a sickening thunk.

The laughter ceases, but he pays it no mind. If Gaz jumps off now, he could strengthen the effect of gravity on himself, and fall faster, reach Ellis before the ground does-

A sniper shot splices the air beside him, the bullet hitting the floor, Ghost’s voice loud when he calls out, “Gaz-!”, Kyle turning around to find the stock of a rifle approaching his face, his foot slips, and-

His vision goes dark.

He’s going to die. The wind beats at his body, howling and shrieking and stealing the air from his lungs. He’s going to die. The city lights smear and create blinding trails at his periphery.

He’s going to die.

Kyle locks onto a dark shape, several feet below him, and the fog of panic clears for long enough for him to remember why he’s falling.

Ellis. He fell before him. He’s going to die.

But Gaz won’t. His powers rush forth, otherworldly ribbons wrapping around his fingertips at his command. Instead of hanging from the sky, he orders them down.

They’re about 100 feet from the harsh asphalt roads when he starts descending at an inhuman speed, eyes watering and muscles trembling from the lack of oxygen, but it doesn’t matter, not until he touches Ellis, not until he pulls him back from certain death.

50 feet. 40. 30. 20. 10-

Kyle barely manages to brush a finger on Ellis’ tacvest before he pulls back, his face mere inches from the ground. His eyes are closed, his mouth gaping as he takes in air for the first time in minutes.

He heard the crunch. He knows his ribbons didn’t wrap around Ellis. Yet, there’s a little naive voice in his mind, holding onto hope that the Corporal has been saved.

The screams of the ground team tell him otherwise.

Kyle releases his powers, his body dropping. Voices echo around him, words unintelligible through the rushing blood in his ears.

Ellis is dead. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. You failed again, he screams at himself in the recesses of his mind.

Kyle chokes on a sob, only then registering the tears flowing down his cheeks. He curls further into himself. Selfishly, he doesn’t want the others to see his pathetic crying. Not only did he fail, he’s also weak.

Someone touches his shoulder, and he freezes. His eyes are glued to the dark grey of the road below him, its rough texture digging into his trembling palms. The voices stray closer, words still incomprehensible but concern clear, and yet he refuses to lift his head.

He doesn’t want to see Ellis. He knows what gravity does to a person, how it tugs at their limbs until they break, how bones stab at soft flesh, how muscles are ripped apart like a rag doll’s stitches. He knows, saw five different bodies, all twisted beyond recognition, by the very power he controls. The memory makes bile rise to his mouth, acrid taste spreading on his tongue. The sight of mangled soldiers, the smell of burning fuel, the whistle of an RPG.

If only he was strong enough to truly control it.

The hands tug at him more forcibly now, attempting to roll him over, but Kyle resists. His mouth tries to form words, but only whines and muted sobs stream from his clenched teeth.

‘Leave me alone’, he wants to whisper. ‘I already know I failed’.

A deeper voice rumbles above him, and the hands stop and leave. Kyle hears the rustling of fabric before the voice begins calling his name.

“-arrick. Sergeant. We need to know if you’re broken.”

He shakes his head, shoulders shuddering along his sobs.

“You’re not injured? Good.” the voice answers calmly, as if they’re not sitting beside a dead body, blood pooling, bones sticking out of place-

“Stay with me, soldier. Focus on me.” the voice orders, and Kyle knows, somewhere in his fractured mind, that he needs to listen.

He risks lifting his gaze a little towards the voice, a knee clad in dark pants coming into view, “you’re safe, Gaz. Take all the time you need to collect yourself. The others won’t bother you now.”

He nods minutely, wanting to show his gratitude to the voice, but refusing to lift his head any higher.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Kyle tries to keep his focus on the person in front of him, but his brain continues to pull at his thoughts, get them to drift to Ellis, his cooling body dead not 3 feet from them-

“You know why blind people don’t like going skydiving?”

Kyle blinks down at his hands. What…?

“‘Cause it scares the shit outta their dogs.”

…That’s the dumbest joke he’s ever heard. What’s dumber, that it’s actually making him huff in amusement.

“That deserves at least a little laugh.” the voice sulks, the deadpan quality of it making their words funnier to Kyle.

He clears his throat before saying, “all that deserves is a groan of disappointment, Lieutenant.”

His head lifts to look at Ghost’s dark eyes behind his skull mask, “you wound my poor feeble heart, Garrick.”

A wobbly smile spreads on his lips, before he slowly looks away from the Lieutenant at the scene around them.

They must’ve already moved the body, leaving dark red blood seeping into the cracks in the road as the only sign anything went wrong. Some combat medics have stayed behind, but from the look on their face Kyle can tell they’re too afraid of Ghost to get any closer.

He casts a questioning look at the Lieutenant, who sighs, “they shouldn’t toss you around while you’re in shock.”

Kyle frowns, “they didn’t ‘toss me around’, but… thanks.”

Ghost simply hums.

It takes him a few more seconds to gather the courage to ask, “the mission… did it fail?”

Did I make us fail?

Ghost regards him with narrowed eyes, “HVT has been secured and is in transport awaiting questioning.”

He lets out a small sigh of relief, nodding.

The Lieutenant stares at him, “you did everything you could, Gaz.” he opens his mouth to disagree, but Ghost lifts a hand, “no. Ellis was dead the moment he was captured. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t have risked the mission, the team, myself to try and save him against the odds.”

Kyle sputters, “but- I didn’t save him.”

“But you tried.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s dead!”

Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously, “it may not matter to Ellis, but to the rest of your squad? His teammates? They know you tried, and they will remember in the future that Sergeant Garrick will endanger his own life for his subordinates.”

Kyle’s eyes widen, Ghost’s voice gaining a somber tone, “you haven’t had a lot of experience in leading.” he half-states, half-asks, so Kyle shakes his head.

“The trust your men have in you is fragile, and invaluable. Today, you’ve gained something many others can’t. You have respect, the kind that is hard-earned in battle.” His eyes look away, lost in memories Kyle will probably never be privy to, “that’s why it matters.”

He thinks back to the way everyone approaches Ghost, fear and awe in their eyes, “are you talking from experience?”

Ghost’s eyes refocus on him, “my soldiers respect me because I’m powerful. They respect me out of terror, not trust.”

“Respect is respect, no?”

“None of them would risk their lives to save mine, if it came to it.” Ghost rises to his feet, “respect born of fear is weak compared to respect born from admiration.”

A gloved hand, adorned with skeletal markings, is offered to him. Kyle takes it, allowing Ghost to pull him up to his own shaky legs.

Gaz takes a good look at the grotesque mask, at the appearance that signals danger and unmatched strength. 

And at the hand in his, grip powerful enough that he doesn’t have any doubt it will catch him if he falls.

“I trust you, Lieutenant.”

Ghost freezes, before he begins walking towards the parked vehicles, “your mistake, Sergeant.”

Gaz follows, believing wholeheartedly in his words.

“I’m planning on building a task force.” Price begins the moment Gaz settles into the office chair in front of him, “a revenant-only task force.”

“And you’re inviting me?” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Don’t sound so surprised, Kyle, we both know your powers are extremely rare.”

Still, to be chosen by the Captain Price out of everyone…

“You’re giving me too much credit, son.” Price’s moustache twitches up with a hidden smirk, “I’ll take it as a yes?”

Gaz nods resolutely, “yes, sir!”

“That’s what I want to hear. Any questions?”

The words “no, sir” are ready on his tongue, but he retracts them to instead ask, “are there any other members yet?”

Price scans him for a moment, before he pulls out a folder, “you remember Ghost, I presume?”

He can see how Price clocks in the excitement in his mind, “of course.”

A warm smile crinkles Price’s blue eyes. He rises, offering Gaz a hand to shake. Gaz takes it.

“Welcome to Taskforce 141, Kyle.”

[lambsouvlaki]

curse my crossover loving brain, I want to see the 141 boys in mass effect.

[sangelune]

"maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to eye-fuck that woman!" aniela huffs at both johnny & simon as she storms off down the hallway and into the shared bedroom. / jealous ani???? :3

   it's  johnny's  stare  that  simon  catches,  and  he  returns  it,  confused.  a  light  shrug,  a  shake  of  his  head.  he  doesn't  exactly  understand.  he  had  stared  at  another  woman  -  but  she'd  started  it  by  oogling  him.  he  definitely  hadn't  considered  it  eye  fucking,  that's  for  sure.

   “och,  riley,  ye  damn  well  done  it  now,  dinnae  ye?”  johnny  reaches  out  to  punch  simon's  arm,  causing  a  glare  to  be  shot  his  way.  “nae  -  ye  dinnae  go  blamin'  me  with  the  feckin'  stink  eye.  ye  go  an'  figure  oot  dinner.  ah'll  explain  yer  weird  shite  tae  her.”

   “'ardly  weird.” 

   “fer  those  who  dinnae  ken  yer  a  wee  bit  off  kilter  -  aye,  it  is.” 

   “off  kilter?”

   “aye  -  now  go.” 

   johnny  wanders  off  before  simon  can  interject,  and  he  makes  his  way  to  the  shared  bedroom,  pushing  open  the  door  and  peeking  inside  with  an  apologetic  smile. 

   “bonnie.”  he  starts,  “ye  ken  yer  bein'  a  wee  bit  too  harsh  on  him,  aye?”  johnny  moves  to  sit  on  the  bed,  waiting  for  her  to  sit  next  to  him.  his  tone  is  gentle,  understanding,  and  carries  the  underlying  i  am  going  to  explain  this  statement. 

   “ye  ain't  seen  the  way  he  looks  at  some  folk?”  johnny  chuckles.  “that's  a  wee  bit  normal.  it  ain't  him  showin'  interest;  it's  him  tryna  intimidate  them  into  leavin'  him  be.  might  work  better  with  his  mask  over  his  face,  shite  used  to  put  a  wee  chill  down  even  my  spine.”  a  moment  where  he  cringes,  before  shaking  his  head. 

   “he's  nae  had  any  proper  mental  assessment,  bu'  ye  best  believe  he  doesn't  work  or  think  the  same  as  ye  or  i.  yer  gonna  have  to  trust  me  when  i  tell  ye  he's  not  walkin'  away  from  ye.  or  me.  noo  -  that  woman  on  the  other  hand  -  she  was  eye  fuckin'  him.  an'  trust  me,  hen.  i  wasnae  aboot  tae  keep  sittin'  and  takin'  it,  had  he  not  made  the  move  tae  leave.  he  knew.”  a  snort  passes  johnny.  “ah  make  scenes  -  neither  a  ye  woulda  been  happy  if  that'd  have  happened.  maybe  ye  mighta  enjoyed  it  a  wee  bit  -  but  i  bet  ye'd  have  been  right  embarrassed  at  the  end.”  a  shrug. 

   “jus'…  go  easy  on  the  big  fucker,  aye?  prob'ly  hurt  him  quite  a  bit  that  yer  thinkin'  he'd  go  choosin'  someone  over  ye.”  he  reaches  out  to  pat  her  shoulder  before  standing  up.  “ain't  sayin'  ye  cannae  get  a  real  nice  night  from  him  from  this.  tell  him  you'll  forgive  it  if  he  spends  the  whole  night  on  ye.”  a  smirk  spreads  across  his  face.  “put  both  him  and  yerself  at  rest.  been  wantin'  tae  go  see  gaz  fer  a  night  anyway.  been  a  while  since  i  had  a  boys  night.”

[simonbrain]

you rarely call price by his first name. it's usually just a very cheery cap! or a stoic price when you need to remind him of the objective, but whenever you do call him john—you tried jonathan once as a joke, and the piercing stare he gave you made that the first and last time—it's warm, earnest. you almost seem shy uttering it, judging by the softness of your voice, but he calms your nerves with a fond look and an affectionate squeeze on the back of your neck.

getting the privilege of calling soap by his first name, let alone johnny, was an accomplishment in itself. you noticed how ghost was the only one who called him johnny, and so you took that as a sign to never refer to him as anything other than his ridiculous callsign and occasionally an incredulous bloody hell, mactavish, whenever he says something outrageous.

until you did slip up one night, but soap didn't seem to mind too much. he quite liked how his first name sounded in your voice, and when he offered you to call him johnny instead, which you mumbled under your breath to test it out, his surprised expression morphed into a genuine smile, one so pretty a rush of energy zipped through you. now, he won't let you call him anything except johnny—pretty much threatens you.

gaz was the first one on the team who allowed you to call him by his first name. hearing you mumble a tired morning, kyle or a warning but unserious kylie... when he's being a little shit makes his day a little brighter. you'd think the two of you were good mates with many years of friendship under your belts with the way you mock and poke at each other—especially when he lets you get away with calling him the most ridiculous pet names, like pookie, of all things.

while you seem to maintain good relations with your team, close ones even, there's just one person who stumps you. one big, enigmatic bastard who gives you creepy looks and speaks in nothing but cryptic language.

it honestly feels like your lieutenant dislikes you; no wonder you're still stuck with calling him by his callsign.

(poor ghost has been waiting for weeks for those plush lips of yours to utter his name. not ghost, not lieutenant or sir, but simon.

it's getting painful how oblivious you are to his attempts at giving you the green light to use his first name; the hard stare he gives you after hearing yet another formal greeting fall from your lips only seems to make you straighten up even more, and the annoyance radiating off of him every time you call him ghost scares you further away from him.

you're so formal with him, and he doesn't know what else to do—he just wants to be called a cute stupid nickname, too.)

[ohmygraves]

after one of your leave, you came back to work with a ring around your finger.

you didn't mention it to anyone, and people simply noticed it when talking to you or handing you things. they congratulated you, talking about the ring. you nervously brushed it off, trying to explain it.

ghost didn't know about it either, and when he overheard someone talking about it, he dropped his mug of tea on the floor, the pieces scattering around the place.

this was such a shock to someone who had planned to propose to you.

well, propose might be a bit too far, considering you two are not even dating. he wanted to say it, but things were a little too hectic and he didn't have the guts to ask you out and moreover you're not sure if you'd like him... even if you two have been friends in the taskforce for years.

then again, in his mind, you two are practically an old married couple.

he was clearly upset by this, ignoring you and trying to push you away. he was undoubtedly hurt. did you elope with someone? why didn't you tell him? invite him to the party? did your "friendship" with him mean nothing at all?

ghost was snappy, in a terrible mood overall. he snaps at johnny, yells at gaz, and even glares at price. he was constantly on edge and it's starting to piss you off. so you confront him.

"what the hell's up with you?"

he didn't feel like humoring you, sitting down all irritated over his meal instead.

"you've been avoiding me all week, snapping at people... did i do something wrong?"

so he went off at you.

"wanna know what's wrong? you. coming back to base with a bloody ring. let me guess, you eloped with someone? is that it?" he hissed, "and here i thought i'd propose, that's out of the fuckin' window now."

you sat there, taking his words in. "... it's a fidget ring?"

you showed your hand to him, using your fingers to spin the little parts of your ring. he didn't realize how you've been fidgeting with it, or how you explained to people over and over that you're not married or engaged.

all of the sudden ghost felt like his blood ran cold, not only because he just acted so stupid jealous over a trinket, he basically admitted that he wanted to marry you.

"... wait, you wanted to propose to me?"

[thatoneautisticshark]

Everyone sleeps on Gaz, he fits with everyone if you want him in a ship!

Ghost Gaz? He is still understanding and bright enough to combat Ghosts grumpiness, and he's still smart and sticks with it.

Gazprice? You got a captain sergeant dynamic, get Gaz being able to give cheek, and sweet price with the sergeant he stole.

Gaz soap? I mean seriously? Those two are the epitome of drunk make outs with your mates. Friendships, and chaos.

Give Gaz love!!