on the verge of a usual mistake @luminousbeings-crudematter - Tumblr Blog

MASTERLIST

~ Lumi, late 20s, she/her ~

~ ALL works are 18+ only, minors DNI ~ Ao3 ~

~ Currently writing for Call of Duty MW2 ~

#simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #soap fanfiction #mw2 fanfic #mw2 smut #ghost x reader #ghostsoap #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #lumi writes

olivetreeyale

“Foul play”

Ghost would totally use that mohawk to his advantage and u can’t convince me otherwise 🤭

lavenderpanic

all of my writing is actually just thinly-veiled fantasy about being seen at your worst and still being loved

553580

something something knight gaz cornering a stablehand after a victory celebration, forcing them to their knees, and instructing them to suck the hilt of his sword while mockingly asking if they're disappointed it isn't the real thing

men-wearing-masks

soapsuddzy

Felt sad last night, so I drew this as comfort to cope :,) !!

I’m seeing wuthering heights fanfic on my FYP now like has tumblr forgotten my interests?????

Stop the motherfucking presses!!

If this is an April Fools joke it’s cruel!!

Babe! How the hell are you?

It’s been 87 years and three husbands since we have last spoken!

The actual mini heart attack I had when I laid my eyes upon this in my notes hahaha

All jokes aside though, I have missed you dearly and I hope you’ve been well 🫶

#no but I missed YOU #it’s good to be back!!!#and I’m even WRITNG #i apologise in advance for who i am about to become #xintothewoodswegox

luminousbeings-crudematter

Ghoap meet-cute in a SAW trap???

luminousbeings-crudematter

No I’m serious, hear me out:

Ghost wakes up to the sound of choking, and it takes a solid moment before he realises that it's not his own. It’s a wet, desperate, pathetic sound, something you’d expect from a dying animal.

It’s the man across from him, Ghost realises, head forced back, something clamped tight around his throat. There’s a clear tube, running from the other man’s mouth to a container on the floor. It’s already filling.

Ghost doesn’t move right away. He just watches. Measures. Counts the seconds between the man’s spasms.

Useful, some cold, ugly, long-forgotten part of him notes.

Eventually the man’s eyes snap to his — bright lazulite, terrified, full of tears but furious too. Too alive, Ghost thinks, given their current situation.

“Help.” It comes out shredded around the obstruction, and the man gags around his own words.

Ghost tilts his head. “Depends.”

Somewhere, a tape clicks on. A quiet, almost intimate voice that sounds pleased with itself. I want to play a game, the voice says. It explains, slowly, lovingly, that the device is calibrated to fluid intake. That the container will continue to fill. Drowning is inevitable.

Unless, of course, one of them can stop it. Permanently.

Ghost looks down at himself then, properly looks down. His hands aren’t free. Restraints, yes, but more than that. Something’s built into them. A device. Metal biting into bone at the wrists, a mechanism that hums when he flexes. Ah, he thinks. It’s a choice disguised as a tool.

His gaze drifts back up.

The other man is shaking now, seemingly trying to focus on trying to breathe. Tears leak sideways into the creases of his eyes and then into his hairline. Still fighting, though, Ghost thinks wryly.

“Name,” Ghost says, like they’re in a briefing room instead of a slaughterhouse.

It takes effort, but the man forces it out. “John—” He chokes, then gags hard enough to cut himself off. “...Soap,” he corrects hoarsely, like it matters.

Ghost snorts. “Simon.”

The container hits halfway, and two pairs of eyes lock onto it.

Then the ticking changes pitch. John–no, Soap sees it too. Bright blue eyes flick from the rising level to Ghost, then to Ghost’s hands. Understanding lands all at once, brutal and complete, and more tears leak out the sides of his eyes.

“Don’t,” he tries, voice breaking around the tube. He clearly means it to sound like an order (the way he used to, in a different life) but it comes out sounding like a plea.

Ghost doesn’t answer. He’s already testing the mechanism. There’s a release, but it’s not clean. It was never meant to be. Pressure builds when he presses down, something inside the brace shifting, aligning, priming…it will work. He knows it will.

But if it works then…well. That’s the game, isn’t it?

Soap watches Ghost like a man watching his own executioner decide whether or not to swing the blade. But there’s something else there, Ghost realises. Defiance. Sharp and stubborn and alive. Inconvenient.

“You said help,” Ghost mutters.

The container is almost full now. Time runs thin. The choice is simple though, seeing as there’s no room left for them.

Ghost leans forward slightly, voice low enough it almost feels like a secret. “Here’s your help.”

And then he pulls. There’s a horrible sound, mechanical, wet, final, and the device reacts instantly. The flow stops.

Soap collapses forward against the restraints, air tearing back into his lungs in ragged, painful gasps. The tube has slackened now, the container overflowing only slightly before going completely still.

There’s silence in the room.

Soap’s vision swims, but he forces it up, forces himself to look.

Ghost hasn’t moved back, can’t now.

The cost of what he’s done is obvious in the way he’s held, in the tension locked into his frame, in the thing he gave up to make the mechanism trigger. Irreversible, deliberate, chosen.

Soap swallows, throat raw. “Why?”

Ghost’s voice is thinner now, but steady. “…couldn’t stand the noise. It’s a lie, and they both know it.

The tape clicks again, as if pleased.

Somewhere in the machinery, something resets.

#ghost x soap #cod mw2 #timezone reblog

spiltspit

first animation attempt

#my man fr #simon ghost riley

luminousbeings-crudematter

Ghoap meet-cute in a SAW trap???

luminousbeings-crudematter

No I’m serious, hear me out:

Ghost wakes up to the sound of choking, and it takes a solid moment before he realises that it's not his own. It’s a wet, desperate, pathetic sound, something you’d expect from a dying animal.

It’s the man across from him, Ghost realises, head forced back, something clamped tight around his throat. There’s a clear tube, running from the other man’s mouth to a container on the floor. It’s already filling.

Ghost doesn’t move right away. He just watches. Measures. Counts the seconds between the man’s spasms.

Useful, some cold, ugly, long-forgotten part of him notes.

Eventually the man’s eyes snap to his — bright lazulite, terrified, full of tears but furious too. Too alive, Ghost thinks, given their current situation.

“Help.” It comes out shredded around the obstruction, and the man gags around his own words.

Ghost tilts his head. “Depends.”

Somewhere, a tape clicks on. A quiet, almost intimate voice that sounds pleased with itself. I want to play a game, the voice says. It explains, slowly, lovingly, that the device is calibrated to fluid intake. That the container will continue to fill. Drowning is inevitable.

Unless, of course, one of them can stop it. Permanently.

Ghost looks down at himself then, properly looks down. His hands aren’t free. Restraints, yes, but more than that. Something’s built into them. A device. Metal biting into bone at the wrists, a mechanism that hums when he flexes. Ah, he thinks. It’s a choice disguised as a tool.

His gaze drifts back up.

The other man is shaking now, seemingly trying to focus on trying to breathe. Tears leak sideways into the creases of his eyes and then into his hairline. Still fighting, though, Ghost thinks wryly.

“Name,” Ghost says, like they’re in a briefing room instead of a slaughterhouse.

It takes effort, but the man forces it out. “John—” He chokes, then gags hard enough to cut himself off. “...Soap,” he corrects hoarsely, like it matters.

Ghost snorts. “Simon.”

The container hits halfway, and two pairs of eyes lock onto it.

Then the ticking changes pitch. John–no, Soap sees it too. Bright blue eyes flick from the rising level to Ghost, then to Ghost’s hands. Understanding lands all at once, brutal and complete, and more tears leak out the sides of his eyes.

“Don’t,” he tries, voice breaking around the tube. He clearly means it to sound like an order (the way he used to, in a different life) but it comes out sounding like a plea.

Ghost doesn’t answer. He’s already testing the mechanism. There’s a release, but it’s not clean. It was never meant to be. Pressure builds when he presses down, something inside the brace shifting, aligning, priming…it will work. He knows it will.

But if it works then…well. That’s the game, isn’t it?

Soap watches Ghost like a man watching his own executioner decide whether or not to swing the blade. But there’s something else there, Ghost realises. Defiance. Sharp and stubborn and alive. Inconvenient.

“You said help,” Ghost mutters.

The container is almost full now. Time runs thin. The choice is simple though, seeing as there’s no room left for them.

Ghost leans forward slightly, voice low enough it almost feels like a secret. “Here’s your help.”

And then he pulls. There’s a horrible sound, mechanical, wet, final, and the device reacts instantly. The flow stops.

Soap collapses forward against the restraints, air tearing back into his lungs in ragged, painful gasps. The tube has slackened now, the container overflowing only slightly before going completely still.

There’s silence in the room.

Soap’s vision swims, but he forces it up, forces himself to look.

Ghost hasn’t moved back, can’t now.

The cost of what he’s done is obvious in the way he’s held, in the tension locked into his frame, in the thing he gave up to make the mechanism trigger. Irreversible, deliberate, chosen.

Soap swallows, throat raw. “Why?”

Ghost’s voice is thinner now, but steady. “…couldn’t stand the noise. It’s a lie, and they both know it.

The tape clicks again, as if pleased.

Somewhere in the machinery, something resets.

#ghost x soap #cod mw2

dante-mightdie

Is this a safe space to say that I enjoy thinking about john price popping pills so he can get it up for his missus?

or are we all gonna judge and make fun of a girl just trying to put herself out there?

Ghoap meet-cute in a SAW trap???

#the new contrapoints video has given me thoughts #mw2 #soap x ghost

soapcloth

Ghost has this up, no dog, and he absolutely means it.

luminousbeings-crudematter

and what if I wrote rom coms for the military propoganda video game fandom? what then? 🥺

luminousbeings-crudematter

…and Gaz, obviously

and what if I wrote rom coms for the military propoganda video game fandom? what then? 🥺

ok folks, what we doing when they drop the MW4 trailer?

#like what’s the game plan

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