#09 mw2

[f4rtw4rr10r]

This is my first time posting art on Tumblr so I’m sorry if this tagging sucks but here’s some 09 Ghoap fanart!

[electricchaser]

09 Ghost has a designated chair in Soap's office.

Soap doesn't clue into it at first. In the beginning, it was just an extra chair stuck in the corner of his office. It was old and worn, and he had a newer one in the other corner, but it was only for him to use when he needed a break while working, or for company, so he didn't care to replace it. Then Ghost started hanging around after hours, or even just during the workday, tending to his own responsibilities while Soap worked, but every time he'd sit in that exact chair. It confused Soap for a minute, and at first he'd try to make small talk, not wanting Ghost to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, but eventually he catches on that Ghost isn't interested in conversation, or any interaction. He just doesn't want to be alone. Just wants to have a little company without the pressure of actually having to engage in social activities.

So Soap doesn't say anything when some of Ghost's belongings, officeware and paperwork start accumulating in a small bin under the chair overtime.

He doesn't say anything when he walks up to his office one afternoon to do some paperwork, only to find it unlocked and a bell set on top to alert anyone inside, and merely sits down at his desk to work on his reports when he sees Ghost curled up and out cold in the chair.

He doesn't bring it up when he continues to find Ghost curled up in his chair, sleeping or otherwise, even when Soap isn't in his office. Eventually he gets used to Ghost just being an accessory to his office, like a picture frame or a little basket of pens, always there, even when he wasn't.

He does say something when another recruit is in his office and they go to sit in that chair and he's struck with this overwhelming feeling of just... wrong and politely but firmly directs them to the other chair because 'that's not their chair'.

The first time Soap walked into his office after Shepperd's betrayal, and he sets eyes on that empty chair, he feels like a cold bucket of water was dumped over him, because seeing that chair empty has a whole different meaning now. It didn't mean Ghost was just off training or busy with other things. It didn't mean Ghost was just tied up somewhere else busy working. No, now that empty chair was a sign of pain. A symbol, of how Soap had been betrayed, a constant reminder of how the person that chair belonged to was no longer around to use it.

It takes a solid three weeks of Soap gathering his things and working somewhere else on base before he can finally stand the thought of sitting in his otherwise empty office to do his paperwork. The first time he does, he has to take multiple breaks to sob and pull at his hair and curse the world, and curse himself because damn it he should've known better than to get used to something that could get taken away from him so easily.

A few months later, Soaps snaps at an ignorant rookie who sees the old worn out chair and suggests getting rid of it, replacing it with something in better shape, and he only has half a heart to feel bad after the fact.

That chair never leaves Soap's office, even after he dies, because Price knew. He knew and he doesn't have the heart to clear out Soap's office. Not yet. Not for a long time. It isn't until Price leaves active duty and someone else takes over that that office gets cleared out, and even then, that chair and most of the belongings in that office leave with Price, set up and stored safely in a room in his house, because he'll be damned if he lets the only things left of his teammates just get thrown away, like they never mattered. Because they mattered to each other, more than anything or anyone else.

[callsigncougar]

Risky but You Love It

The Mess Hall is finally quiet. Most of Task Force 141 has retreated to their rooms or the bunks, leaving only the faint hum of leftover music and the clatter of chairs. You lean against the counter, sipping the last of your drink, trying to calm the buzz of laughter still ringing in your ears.

“Still here?” Roach’s voice cuts through the silence, and you glance up to see him leaning casually against the doorway, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“You didn’t leave either,” you tease, setting your glass down.

He shrugs, stepping closer, the space between you shrinking until the hum of the room feels like it only surrounds the two of you. “I like having an audience of one,” he murmurs, eyes glinting.

Your heart skips a beat. “Is that so?”

He tilts his head, lips curving into that dangerous half-smile. “Yeah. You… you’re different from the others. You’re… unpredictable.”

You laugh softly, brushing a finger over his shoulder. “Unpredictable, huh? That sounds suspiciously like a compliment.”

“Maybe it is,” he admits, voice low, just above a whisper. He leans in slightly, letting the tip of his nose brush against yours. The closeness makes your stomach flutter in a way nothing else ever does.

“Careful,” you whisper, teasing, “you’re dangerously close to trouble.”

He smirks, his hand brushing yours on the counter, lingering longer than necessary. “And you’d let me?”

“I might,” you reply, your voice barely audible, your pulse quickening. “Depends on what kind of trouble we’re talking about.”

Roach chuckles, and the sound sends shivers down your spine. “The fun kind,” he says, inching even closer, eyes locked on yours.

The room feels smaller somehow, the faint light from the Mess Hall casting shadows across his face. You can feel the electricity in the air, that same spark from the party amplified now that it’s just the two of you.

“Maybe… maybe we should test it,” you murmur, heart racing, a smile tugging at your lips.

He leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath. “I think that’s a risk worth taking,” he says, and for a fleeting, electric moment, the rest of the world—the missions, the chaos, the war—disappears.

It’s just you, him, and the dangerous thrill of being exactly where you’re not supposed to be—but desperately want to stay.

[sandersongary]

Thinking about ghostroach handholding from my first fic but making myself sad by thinking about roach reaching out to grab ghost's hand before the flames overtake them, not coherent enough to realize that ghost is dead next to him

[f4rtw4rr10r]

Old 09 Ghost art, still getting used to tagging on here so give me some grace..