DisgruntledDania
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The maiming of the kill comes naturally, as easy as taking a breath with Ghost congratulating him on a job well done. The scraps of praise, the hints of veiled approval in Ghost’s voice has the knife of Soap’s longing twisting deeper each time. Soap has to catch himself from immediately seeking out Ghost’s eye the moment a body he slices slumps to the ground. From extending a hand out to touch, like a dog waiting for its master to give a pat on the head. But in the quiet of the night, Soap is uncontrollably restless.
Soap wants him. Desperately.
Bookmarked by DisgruntledDania
04 Jan 2025
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“I’m okay,” Ghost had murmured, a skeletal gloved hand coming out to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping away the blood, the sinew, the remainder of the carnage that Soap had caused in his desperation to get to Simon.
And despite the fact that Simon nearly died, the man had leaned forward, pulling John beneath his chin, the skull mask digging against his temple. But John didn’t care, the pain reminded him that this was real. That Simon was alive, that he was breathing.
And the man said nothing when John lifted a hand, when he pulled at the edge of the balaclava, slipping beneath the fabric, hand splayed flat against the column of Simon's throat, crying out when he felt his pulse, strong and steady beneath his fingertips.
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Bookmarked by DisgruntledDania
09 Sep 2025
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But Ghost didn’t seem to mind, quietly filling the kettle before setting it to boil, those dark eyes watching as John paced the kitchen, one arm flailing about in the air, the other locked tight around his half-melted pint of rocky road.
He told Ghost he was stressed. That the entire MacTavish clan was coming into town, which meant awkward hugs, judgmental stares, and nosy questions from people he hadn’t seen in years. John could handle all of that, he really could.
But what he couldn’t handle was the questions. Why he hadn’t settled down yet, why he didn’t have a nice Scottish girl on his arm.
Why he wasn’t married with a child on the way, because Ethel and James weren’t getting younger, and John was already too old. For fuck’s sake.
“Maybe I don’t want to bring home a wee lass,” John had snapped, voice cracking as he dug his spoon in harder than necessary, a brown, congealed clump of freezer-burned rocky road flying onto the floor. “Maybe I don’t even like women, has anyone considered that?”
And there, in less than twenty words, John had completely outed himself.
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- English
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- 44,818
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- 5/5
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Bookmarked by DisgruntledDania
08 Oct 2025
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A famous tale, told far and wide, shock and awe, gently as he drowsed. Of the Gods and sacrifice, like they often are. True or not, it wasn't something John concerned himself with once he grew older. He may be from the island, but he spent most of his childhood in Athens. For all the stories of virgin sacrifices, he's not heard or seen anyone being taken. The smell of death here suggests he was wrong, or he's not the first Thomas promised clemency to.
His life was to be forfeit regardless. Here, he stands a chance. Slay the beast, return with proof—it's head, but any part will do—and his crimes are forgiven.
In which John follows his path, both hunted and hunter of the beast that stalks these halls. That's all Simon is. Isn't he?
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- English
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- 87,355
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Bookmarked by DisgruntledDania
08 Oct 2025
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Stars, Guide Me to Him by Howdy_Ghost_Writer
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
29 Oct 2023
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Inspired by Lord of the Rings.
Ghost is a reclusive elvish warrior, spending his days fighting the dark shadows of Middle Earth in an attempt to absolve himself of his past. Soap is a Ranger attempting to outrun his destiny.
This is a completed work. Includes epilogue.
Edited 1/22/24 for corrections.
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- English
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- 85,129
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- 22/22
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Bookmarked by DisgruntledDania
17 Oct 2024