Regenmaedchen
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"'Bout time we got another reptile in here," Gaz says brightly. "Maybe now Cap'll finally invest in some proper heaters."
Soap chuckles, smoke leaking from his nostrils when he grins. "Ah'm plenty warm," he teases, drawing Gaz under his wing, the snake wriggling happily, his round pupils shining as his cheeks flush pink. He rests his chin on Soap's shoulder with a tiny hiss, content to curl around him and soak up the heat of Soap's fire.
"Ghost is out on a mission," Price tells him. "You'll only get to meet him when it's basically wheels-up, unfortunately. He's, ah, a bit of a prickly sort, but impress him and you won't have any problems."
Bookmarked by Regenmaedchen
18 Jan 2026
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Ghost_inWaiting: I want to die. I can't do it myself - I've tried, and I pull through every time. I need someone who can do this for me. Someone who makes sure I don't make it. I'm willing to sign anything, put it all into writing, and give explicit consent in advance. I want this. Please, let me die.
SoapEater: Are you willing to suffer?
Ghost_inWaiting: Whatever you want. As long as it ends. Are you willing to kill me?
SoapEater: And more.
Ghost_inWaiting: It's a date.[THREAD HAS BEEN CLOSED BY A MODERATOR]
Series
- Part 1 of Martyr
Bookmarked by Regenmaedchen
23 Dec 2025
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ABSOLUTELY*KRAKEN*MYM'FINGHOG by fockenWIMDY, Monsterlice, toomanybats for Soapedghost
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
22 Dec 2025
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Of course there's always the muscle and the beautiful eyes and the every other tiny thing that has kept Ghost strung along in the last year and a half since Soap first walked up and demanded to be allowed to try for the 141. That's a part of it, Ghost knows. The drive, the determination to be the best without even taking into account his natural advantages when shifted into…whatever it is he becomes. Soap has always been cagey about that. But Ghost has always been attracted to competence, and this insolent, insubordinate little shit is also probably the single most competent soldier Ghost has ever had the good luck to work with.
And then there's the fact Soap is a hybrid. A damned powerful one at that.
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The predator in him can't deny the inherent thrill of having prey so close; the satisfaction of remaining undetected is a high he'll never get sick of. Though he's strictly human, Ghost is stealthier by far than any other Soap has met. It's probably why he's so pathetically infatuated with the man. He mentally shakes himself, returning to the mission at hand as he and Ghost both watch the men beneath them until they enter a door and are out of sight.
Then they move.
Bookmarked by Regenmaedchen
23 Dec 2025
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“Hey sexy,” Enjin greets.
Gris pulls a shirt from the dryer, shakes it once and lays it in the basket tucked under his arm.
“No.”
Enjin pouts as he leans against the doorway, his shoulders spanning most of the frame.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“And I don’t need to know,” Gris says patiently, smiling as Enjin further smooshes his lips in a pout. “It’s the first Friday of the month, and you want me to race Sheila. No.”
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Bookmarked by Regenmaedchen
13 Dec 2025
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"Ghost," Soap says, sharper this time, a little edge of order in his voice. Ghost's shoulders tense, roll up. He winces and straightens again, staring up at Soap. The eye contact is settling, a little - seeing Ghost's eyes focus on him is reassuring, tells Soap that Ghost is with him at least. He forces a smile. "What's goin' on in that pretty little head, huh?"
He means it to tease, hopes it'll make Ghost roll his eyes, scoff and shove at him, as he always has when Soap turns flirty and intimate. Ghost's boundaries are well-known and well-respected - he likes the social play of it all, comfortable in platonic submission that lets Gaz and Soap and Price needle at him, seek reassurance that he's their steadfast and constant foundation, but pulls a hard and fast stop when it progresses too far. Soap expects to hit that wall, to get a little snark and be dismissed as a worrying mother hen.
But Ghost just stares up at him, unblinking, his eyes unbearably warm, cheeks flushed along the edges of his mask.
Soap frowns, reaches out to put the back of his hand on Ghost's forehead. Ghost's lashes flutter weakly.
"Think I'm droppin'," Ghost mutters, leaning into the touch.
Bookmarked by Regenmaedchen
08 Dec 2025