Ghost's love is... Morbid. Melancholic in the way that he explains it and expresses it. It's extreme and revolting.
Disgusting.
No sane person would look at the object of their desire, love and affection and think half the things he does. Try and do half the things he does.
It's the way he wants to tear and be torn apart, inch by inch of his skin, have his muscles ripped apart, his bones broken and shattered. It's how he wants his organs to stop working the moment his love dies.
He wants to decompose and be eaten by the earth, he was almost once, and it brought him a sick sense of peace. To know that after all the pain he went through. There would be peace and he would just go back to the earth.
It's probably because of his fucked up psych and all the torture his mind as been through since the day he was born. Simon is a cursed name, he's known this for a while. That's why he destroyed it and buried it. Hoping, wishing, that it would have the piece it desired.
It didn't. He got restless under the skin of Ghost and little horrid pieces started revealing themselves slowly. Like ants coursing through his veins, it burned like poison. Made him itch. It scratched his insides painfully. Made him want to tear his viscera out. Gore displayed over his fingers.
But when he looks at the person he loves. Johnny. His person.
His Johnny.
It's like a part of his brain is both satiated and starving for more.
He cannot help but want to die for him.
Kill for him.
But also, live another day to see his smile, his laugh. Watch the sun melt into the beauty of his blue eyes, reflecting back the beauty of the sky like crystal water.
Like a cat bringing his owner a gift of appreciation-
Wishes to decapitate the ones who did Johnny wrong and bring their heads on a silver platter. Hoping for praise and satisfaction.
But he controls himself, because Johnny can take care of himself. Because Johnny, strong and resilient Johnny is not a man of pitiful revenge. Not when it's about himself.
And he gives him what he seeks anyway. In the way of gentle hands and soft touches, encouraging words. Time. Touch. Talking.
Still, most days, every day he wants to taste his blood on his tongue. Drink it like the sweet tasting wine he knows it would be.
But most of all-
Wants to be killed by his love's hands when his time finally comes.
When he commits a mistake he cannot undo. When he has overstepped his stay. He wants Johnny to put his hands on Simon and to break him. Slit his throat. Quick and gentle. Lay him down gently to the dirty. Flowers heavy on his chest.
Because love for Simon is devotion.
The moment he saw John. He swore to devote his life to him.
However, John's love is caring.
Taking care, his own form of devotion. Construct Simon back to be whole, not trying to make him perfect, never. Paint his cracks gold, always trying his best, plaster on his wounds, chipping his skin, bleeding over him. White glue, duct tape.
He has never felt so understood (He's not looked at like a freak. His concerning sentences aren't brushed off as odd or concerning but listened. Observed. Johnny understands that his words, words that would leave anyone queasy, green with sickness, are the only way Simon was taught to love. Learned to love.)
It 's peaceful.
It's the way of Johnny loving him and that's enough to quell the morbid thirst in Simon's heart.
A little 'study'(?) on how I think Ghost loves...
Some notes I wrote after:
My favorite type of Simon is the one who's love is just revolting. Out ,of what's called, the ordinary and extreme.
It's the love of a man who does not let others in, not because he's scared of being seen. But because he knows if they knew how much he loves them they would run away. Disappear. Question his fucked up mind. Lock him away. Treat him like the freak that he is.
That's why he loves Johnny.
Because the man is not scared of him and he himself admits he's not normal. Too clingy, too obsessive. Explosive. Weird. Too much.
tell me abt,,, Three dumbasses and their obselete braincell,,, and Roach pavloved Ghost real and true I was there. And Soap figures it out and falls more in love,,,,,
Of course! So!
4) Three dumbasses and their obselete braincell is the google doc that I have dubbed to be the "Ghostsoaproach silly/out of pocket/weird ideas" So I'll just write whatever GRS silly idea that comes to mind in that doc if I'm on the puter
One of the fics written there has already been posted (which I completly forgor until I read it again XD). Which is this one -> :D
And you can have...the whole snipet of one of the things I have written there that...Honestly I'll never make it it's own post (I get embarassed when I write silly orz)
More under the break
“Man, I want some peanuts.”
Soap stops. Looking up from where he was scribbling on his journal, he watches Roach make his ol' drama of appearing miserable. Laying half of the top of his body on the table. Soap hums and looks down at the bag of miscellaneous…nuts he was currently eating.
“I thinks this has some peanuts,” he says while rummaging through the bag, lowering himself to look better, “I can give you som–”
“NO!”
Knee slamming against the bottom of the table, Soap startles at the sudden yell, curse dying on his tongue as he whips his head around to stare at his Lieutenant in pure undultered concern. Eyes wide as saucers. It would be funny to think about how fast his back had straightened at the tone to sit at attention, but at the moment his heart was about to be spit out so the humor was lost.
He seems to be the only one concerned, though as Roach just looks up confused (straighter than he was at least, so maybe Johnny wasn't the only bastard getting his shit spooked).
Ghost doesn’t seem to be aware (or he doesn’t care) (he certainly doesn't care) that he almost killed on of his sergeant's shitless. Not when his eyes are staring straight at Roach, digging holes into the man with the look of pure bafflement in - what's visible - of his expression.
“Roach!”
“What?” Soap hears Roach squeak
“You’re allergic to peanuts, you fucking idiot!”
Pause.
Roach blinks, once, twice...three times and Soap can see the cogs turning, then he blinks again and again. His eyes widen comically.
“Oh yeah!” he snaps his fingers, “I forgot.”
Soap would wince at the sound of Ghost hand hitting his own face if it wasn’t for his own indignation and pure disbelief at the bampot sitting in front of him.
“You forgot?!" He yells. "I could’ve killed you!”
Roach shrugs, sprawling on his chair once more.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You…” the man standing behind Soap seems to pause, then continues slowly “you… can die from that.”
This time Soap does look at Ghost when he speaks, watching how he presses both of his palms together (Soap thinks he’s not that far from praying away the stupidity out of Roach).
“I mean… So can I from a bullet.” Is what Roach decides to use as... a solid counter argument.
Soap’s head turns slowly to look at Roach, the last thing he hears from Ghost are his footsteps retreating– leaving. Smart
Roach looks down at the bag of nuts, like he was thinking of putting his hand there, he still has the audacidy to look at Soap with a confused expression when the scot makes an indignat sound high on his throat. And ask:
“What?”
"..."
As Soap gets up to leave he thinks, ‘Yeah… No. No amount of praying could cure that.’
He makes sure to take the bag with him on his way out
“What?!??”
1)And now to~Roach pavloved Ghost real and true I was there. And Soap figures it out and falls more in love! Which is a fic I started working on and completly forgot to continue because ~college~
Have a lil snipet :3
The thing that he always keeps tabs on are people’s moods. It comes in handy especially in the military. A slight change of tone could be the start of a war.
Right after moods. Comes, quirks.
And his lieutenant is one quirky little bastard– not that he’ll ever admit it, of course, because besides quirky he also has a stick up his ass– anyway, as standoffish as the man tends to appear he’s way more expressive than people think (not even Ghost himself seems to notice that himself).
Ghost, the man, the legend, has many little quirks. From obvious things like his constant need for the mask. To always stand at the back of the room in the shadows in meetings. Or to clean his weapons in a specific order– gear, long ranged guns, handguns and only at the end his knives (which are also cleaned by their own order and put away in some form of system). Or even when it comes to his eating habits and how he progresses with them.
They’re varied quirks, there are… a lot of them. And they’re, well, quirky. But they all have reasons behind them
So that’s why this specific one intrigues Soap to no end.
The fic is pretty short, as of right now at least (and it probably won't stray from like 1k words) But it's pretty much Soap learning that Ghost has this specific action - quirk - and it's him just trying to figure out what it is and why he does it :3
I know, not very interesting but I like to write about how other people's behaviors can impact others orz. It's fun (also my way to study a character)
So there you go Ren! Hope you liked it and hope they were interesting! Sorry you got the goofy ones ashgjfhgfgfajsf
Today I present to you a drabble (?) that I have put into a series and smartly dubbed ‘Three dumbasses and their obselete braincell’ Hope you enjoy :3
Based on my Hc of another reason why Roach is called Roach
It’s been hours by now. Hours and Soap was going insane.
How can a one-seventy-somethin-centimeters-tall motherfucker dissapear out of thin air?!
He stomps his way into the leisure room, again.
He’s going to rip his mohawk with his hands.
Ghost, who hasn’t left his spot all the three times, yes three times he has entered that fucking room in the last hour alone – Oh, how he’s going to murder Roach when he finds him– looks up at him from his book, he’s halfway through it, Soap notices. Just one more sign of how long he has been running around the compound in circles like a cat with zoomies.
They say nothing. Ghost raises an eyebrow, Soap bites the inside of his cheek.
“Ready to be hospitalized in an asylum?”
If looks could kill Ghost would be dust on the floor. But no, instead the fucker smiles at him, eyes crickling gently at the corners and GOD Soap wishes he could fall on his lap and kiss those stupid– hot– pretty lips, but no he has a task to complete.
“Awa’ n bile your head”
Ghost hums, ignoring him completely.
Soap does as much as throw himself to the cushion besides the man in retaliation.
“What got your panties in a twist, Johnny?”
“Fuck you”
He feels the man giving him a side eye. He glares back.
“Ma, panties are very straight thank you very fucking much.”
Ghost hums again, bookmarks his page and closes the book.
A pause.
A deep breath.
“I CANNAE FIND THAT FUCKING LAVVY-HEIDED WANKSTAIN ANYWHERE!” He throws his arms up to further cement his point, deflating like a balloon after.
Ghost hums again, “here I thought Price’d gotten tired of your jittery ass–” Soap kicks him in the shin, hard, “ –and put you zooming around the place like a cat on purpose.”
Soap punches him in the bicep, hard again.
“Who’re you looking for?”
He sighs in defeat.
“Roach”
He says it in a way that makes Ghost’s eyebrows lift, amused at his clear stance of sulking like a baby. ‘Lot of contempt there, mate’
“Gary?” Ghost frowns down at him, “why’re you looking for him.”
Soap throws his hand in the air in a ‘I-don’t-fucking-know’ gesture, shrugging his shoulders for good measure “I dinnae ken, Price wants to munch his ear of or somethin’ ”
Ghost hums again.
“Okay.”
And then he’s getting up.
This time it’s Soap turn to frown, “Where ‘re ye going?”
Ghost looks at him from over his shoulder.
“To get Roach.”
His frown deepens, now adding a pinch of confusion.
He gets up as Ghost starts walking away, getting into step easily.
“You know where he is?”
"Affirmative." Ghost answers, gait never flattering, tunnel visioning down a corridor Soap passed fifteen different times (yes he counted) , (yes he also looked inside every single room AND closet). He pauses for a moment, after his brain finally catches with what Ghost has said, indignation crashing into him.
“And you didn’t tell me?!”
Ghost looks at him unimpressed.
“Did you ask.”
His mouth smartly shuts itself – ‘No he did not, in fact, ask’ – he continues his walk besides his Lieutenant, hands in pockets (But not sulking!).
They turn a corner and Ghost opens the first door – the kitchen.
The kitchen??
“I already looked in here, L.T,” and as he does another sweep with his eyes. Yep still empty.
Ghost is standing still beside him, head turning slightly as he analyzes the room – the way he always does on missions. He stops.
Soap is about to open his mouth to ask what the hell is he doing when he startles as Ghost moves his arm suddenly. Throwing with dead accuracy his book against the upper cabinets. Specifically the one closest to the right wall.
“What the fuck??”
His head spins to look at his Lieutenant in bewilderment. Did he finally blow a fuse? Lost the thread? Maybe he’s the one that needs a place in asylum?!
There’s a creak in the otherwise silent room.
And Soap swears, as the cabinet doors open and a pair of familiar brunette hair pops off, that a vein of his might, finally, pop.
What the fuck?
“What-”
“What. The. Fuck.”
Roach blinks at him.
“You better get the fuck out of there or ‘am lauching yer ass into the stratosphere. In 10– ”
Soap has never seen no one move so quickly and so clumsy at the same time, how Roach didn’t face plant is beyond him and as he gets closer he cannot keep all his rage contained.
So he grabs him by the ear and hauls his ass out of the kitchen, ignoring his complaints.
“You own me a fucking bottle of scotch. Good one too.”
Ghost watches the two idiots leave the premises, walking further inside he grabs his book and boils some tea.
He left at a good part after all.
I live for Banter~
( @sam-nochncs ) forgot to tag u sorry
ok op- i’m going to try to be as eloquent as i can-
Soap and Ghost about being the Moon and the Sun
The sun, you see is this thing that by nature we are scared off, It’s harsh, it burns It can kills us any moment! (just like ghost) Every fic I read, Ghost is always described as this... unaprochable thing, you get too close, you’re immediatly dead. Poeple are scared to touch him, like he might burn them alive, consume what they are and leave nothing but ashes behind.
He’s sharp edges and harsh words (a lot of sun things are pointy, you draw the sun rays like spikes. And harsh? that’s the sun in a nutshell, you cannot look at it for long without consequences). But then... the sun isn’t just bad terrible things, it’s also warmth, it warms you on cold days, and let me tell you I might be a little unhinged about this men. But tell me. Look at Ghost’s eyes and tell me they don’t radiate warmth. They are this beautiful browns that have life! (a little exausted yes, but there is determination behind them) They burn like fire and are so expressive!!
And then you have Soap, the one people always say is the sun because of his smile and just- the pure joy that radiates from that man. AND TRUE yes, all of that is true, but i look at Soap and I also see this gentleness that surrounds him, he thinks of others first and the mission next. He’s aproachable (you know we did land on the moon and not the sun for a reason, you can stay there, you can touch it! it’s not these unaproachable thing). He’s also cold, but not in the way that is unforgiving, but more like how you pour cold water to soothe a burn. He has this soothing presence and personality, you just want to know more! And he’s all this and more, he’s also a force to recon with. Powerfull and Explosive (demolition especialist) but in a controled way (something the sun...isn’t, that explodes we’re all dead) the same way the moon controls the tides of the sea!
And also talking about colors, Jonnhy’s eyes are this very pretty blue the same way of the Sea and I just can’t stop comparing him with this (also moon is round and softer around the edges, and that too me sounds a lot like Soap) We also could talk about how the moons light is influenced by what surrounds him and, call me insane, but i dunno while Soap can be the light of the room he also seem like the type that flows well with other people’s vibes.
And like if we get in a more shippy side of things? Soap and Ghost being a representation of an Eclipse when they finally get together?
Like it’s this scene where everyone is expecting waiting, but when it happens you can’t look at it directly, it’s too much for the naked eye. But you are so so curious to see what it is. And in the end it’s something so beautiful so breathtaking.
And it’s also how one rotates the other, but separatly they are still these powerful entities. It’s how they need each other when they meet and can’t really separate (it’s how soap rotates rotates getting closer because he just wantes more more)
It’s- It’s- AH
I’m going fucking insane
Finally got a decent enough drawing to talk a little more about Many!
First I would like to introduce Many's world. Their jewel and their reason to live.
Their little potato - Mimi! (One day I'll make a comic with how the task came to know Mimi but all you have to know is that: The task did not know of her existence, only the captain) she's technically a little older then just a baby but I wanted to show... This side of Many.
So let's talk about Many!
As you can see, they're a parent of a very entusiastic 4 year old (Mimi is hard of hearing and has terrible eye sight since very young (Many calls her, their 'little bat'). Besides other health problems. Many goes far and beyond to make sure she has everything she needs and desires.)
Many had her before joining the task force and that period of time is erased from their file... for privacy reasons.
Child things aside-
There are four (more or less set to stone) rules about Many
1. Don't ask about what's under the mask (unless you want to get on their bad side, then congratulations, you already made half your way there, if not try to redeem your error (good luck)) and per consequence. Don't touch the mask;
2. Don't ask them to emote more (You think they should laugh more? Keep that to yourself unless you want a very hurtful/snappy/rude response);
3. Don't talk about their appearance or what you think they might look like (same thing as point 1, but this one is just Speedrun for them to hate you/avoid you like the plague (if it was a mistake… good luck trying to remedy it));
4. Never make a big deal about them forgetting something (unless it's very urgent or life threatening) (this is the hardest rule to come around and understand because instead of lashing out they just… stop and turn off. Shut down.)
This may make them sound a little like an asshole. But they live by the rule of "I wouldn't ask anyone something like that because it's weird and uncomfortable, so why would anyone ask me that??" (Don't do to others what you wouldn't like to be done to you)
As, I think I said in some other post, Many doesn't have a very tragic backstory.
They grew up with their mother and two siblings (one older, another younger) in a modest appartment. Their father was out working but was always extremly suportive and caring. Loving parents loving family.
Some problems making friends but... pretty alright-
Teenagehood was rough, complicated and ugly and that's where most of their problems started. Because of an incident that happen when they were small (which resulted in 'brain damage' but not like 'worrying' (that's what the doctors said- they were... so wrong)) Their control of their emotions was... almost non existent. Very emotional and empathetic. Very explosive and angry. Messy.
Teenage years didn't make that better... only worse.
Developed severe Athazagoraphobia (fear of forgetting someone or something, as well as a fear of being forgotten) which got worse after they got a concussion and got mild amnesia of the event.
They almost tore and entire room apart, from their panic.
And that's where the panic attacks and anxiety also started full swing.
The fear was born because of their Prosopagnosia (also known as face blindness, in which he is unable to recognize faces) caused by the incident and that... only got worse with age.
Their Prosopagnosia is so... bad to the point where they cannot remember their own face at all (only eye color and hair color) and the Athazagoraphobia was so severe that the two mixed and they developed a form of face dysmorphia (which as you can imagine... only made everything worse)
That's... almost all the story behind the mask
They could not control what other people say and do so... they took the control out of people for there to be any stray comments.
Also It makes it easier for them to describe their face (just a blank white mask) that's why you can only see their eyes and that's why they leave their hair mostly uncovered (things they can remember).
Now if you read the four rules... you can understand why they exist. It's self persevation mixed with self sabotage.
And it's because of that emotional sensitivity that they joined the military (no one wanted them to do it. Their mother begged them not to. But the feeling of being constatly lost and at the brink of exploding all at the same time? was too much and they just felt they needed to be put in line... By people who didn't care about their feelings).
As you can imagine- and seeing how I've drawn them so far- you can see that it suceded somehow. Though is a very negative side. Bottling everything up to the point of apathy and desinterest.
Thankfully it didn't kill them completly... And you can see that.
One mission was enough to make them see that... they didn't need to hide everything and so they didn't. They observe and they look out for others. They care so so much. It's painful. It's so painful but it's the last thing that makes them feel human so they lean into it.
Even though they don't share their name, it's not an actual secret. It's written on their dog tags- First and Last- people just take Many's, quite honestly, scary exterior and don't really get close. Many isn't really a secret, they just live by the rule of, ask if you want information, and if they trust you, they'll share.
They keep it a 'secret' mostly because they cherish the name imensly. It's really important for them.
Also they like the whole being a little anonymus (relief when no one knows who you are, also it helps them train their memory).
They keep a journal to note down things (a human mind can remember so much) and keep a photo of everyone they know there so they can also remember their faces.And although they have... everything more under control then they ever had since young
(And you could feel their relief when they meet the team and see a lot of them use things like masks or glasses or have painted hair or have prominent scars. Things easy to remember.)
And although they have... everything more under control then they ever had since young. There's still moments:
They still have nasty panic attacks. But especially when they forget things (small or big). Or when someone asks them to describe someone they saw/know, and don't take a 'I don't remember as an answer'. (Because it's out of their control-)
They do not look at mirrors or whatever. Avoid them like the plague.
And they still have... self destructive tendencies... (I'll talk more about it on another post but- yeah)
BOY THAT GOT LONG MY BAD-
Yesterday I posted banter. Today I post sad. Yepie!
I’m mixing a little of the stuff that happened in the ‘09 game here cus god i love to suffer. They didn’t die in that mission (and of course it wasn’t sheperd) and this is what happens after Ghost finally wakes up, *does a little bow*
Enjoy
The door slides with a bang.
Brown eyes look up at him startled, probably because of the bang, maybe because of the blood going down his arms from where he tore away the drip, perhaps because he looks like a corpse himself. His eyes are foggy with medication, tired. Alive. He 's alive. Alive. alive alivealive–
Captain Price had gotten up with his brusque entrance, he doesn’t care about what he has to say, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want to hear him and whatever stupid shit he has to say. Right now he doesn’t care about anything, because Simon is alive and awake. He’s so relieved, he’s so– so…
So… angry.
He’s alive but so is the fury eating Gary away from the inside out.
He stalks closer to the bed, legs cooperative, shakes contained for now–
[His heart’s racing] Simon watches with wide eyes as Gary comes closer to the bed, the relief that floods his insides at seeing him alive almost makes him dizzy. [His heart races]. If he wasn't already laying down he thinks he might’ve passed out there and then. But–
There’s also something churning in his stomach. Heavy. He can’t put a word to it. It makes him feel sick. The expression on Gary’s face makes him feel sick. There’s apprehension in his veins as he finally reaches the bed [His heart doesn’t stop].
He doesn’t know why.
“What were you thinking?” Roach spits out, venom dripping out of his tongue, heavy and acidic, with no restrain. Price’s eyes widen from the corner of his vision. Surprised that he was able to speak after the two week long silence. After a week of a catatonic silence. After not moving, not eating, thinking. He speaks steady, contained, heart hammering down on his bruised ribs.
Simon looks at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
He looks up at Gary.
‘What was he thinking?’ of the mission, of course.
He wonders if Roach might’ve suffered a concussion of shorts. He was there. He knew what he did and why he did it. They had a task to complete and he completed it. They signed for this. What if he almost died? He also almost died! But that’s what they're there for. To complete the task or die trying their damn best. He knows that. Roach know that.
He tells Roach as much
“I was thinking of the mission, and how it had to be completed.”
He sees Roach’s jaw tighten, there’s fury, actually fury burning in his expression. To the point where Ghost sees him shake with it.
He doesn’t understand…
“You almost died.” Gary says through gritted teeth and his voice cracks at the last word.
Why is his voice cracking
“It’s the job Roach! I had to take you to safety, you needed help! What does it matter if I die, anyway!? The mission–”
One moment he’s looking at Roach
The next his face is staring at the window to his right, cheek stinging painfully.
The sound reverberates between the four silent walls like a clap of thunder. It makes his ears hurt.
He hears Price do some aborted choked sound before–
“WHAT ABOUT ME!?”
Simon looks slowly back at him, he’s not ready to see tears, the same way he wasn’t ready for the outburst or the slap, for Gary screaming, for his voice to crack–
“DID YOU THINK ABOUT ME– HOW I WOULD– IF YOU?! DO YOU TH– THINK SIMON?! DO YOU THINK ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF?! HOW COULD– HOW WOULD I–”
There’s a weird type of ringing to his ears, not the type you get after a bomb goes out or how when the blood flows through the brain painfully quickly, not this feels like…
He thinks he might go insane because–
It feels like a breath of fresh air.
Realization.
As Gary dissolves himself into tears, hyperventilating his breaths and screaming his voice raw. Simon realizes something.
As Gary breakdowns in front of him he realizes he feels– feels
And he feels horrible.
He feels loved.
He cares. He loves– He loves him. Him– Simon Riley.
Ghost almost left him because he couldn’t see that. No. He saw it and he ignored it because no one can love Simon Riley. He…He doesn’t exist anymore he’s not worth tears no one ever cried for him no one ever mourned him no one ever cared he’s not worth being cared for he has nothing to give back– He saw Gary and he ignored him, brushed him away, put him to the side, pushed him under the rug because– he thought–
He watches as Gary presses his hands against the side of his face, like a child. He did that.
His hands twist in the blankets because he feels lost.
He did this but he doesn’t know how to fix it.
Guilt burns his throat.
It burns fiercely until he reaches out, hand grasping a stained jumper.
He pulls him gently towards himself. Tugs him to come closer, please. Gary shakes his head. He tugs him again. He falls into his arms like he belongs there. He sprawls on top of him, legs hanging over the bed and sits on the mattress like he belongs there.
Simon wraps his arms around him, cradles his head to his shoulder, pulls him closer by the waist and hugs him. He hasn’t hugged someone in so long.
But he fits like he belongs there.
“Please, don’t cry.” His voice cracks and it’s awful. It’s awful the stinging in his eyes and the guilt on his stomach, “don’t cry.” Please.
His mind sticks to a loop of saying it over and over and over, over again until Gary hugs him back, until his arms sneak around him and squeeze. Hold him tighter and closer. Sobs louder, shaking worse. But…
He’s there, Simon realizes, he’s there and he could’ve almost lost him. Could’ve almost left alone. alone.
The tears roll down easily, they burn, they hurt.
He’s so sorry
“‘m sorry,” he says to Gary’s hair and then he repeats it again, again, again and again. And he’ll repeat them until he can’t anymore–
He almost lost him.
And since I’m not THAT mean have a little bonus of what comes after all...this mess xoxo
Roach is sitting on the mattress. Legs swinging back and forth as he watches the window. The hospital lights don’t really help with his appearance. Accentuating every bandage and crease showing just how exhausted he looks.
He should go back to his room and rest.
Ghost watches him from where he’s propped up on his pillows. As he traces the curve of Roach’s jaw with his eyes his mind plays That day on repeat. They haven’t really talked about it. Roach hasn’t been able to talk after it anyway and his hands shake too much to sign anything correctly. Price says he had a nervous breakdown somewhere between that day and today. He traces a finger gently over Roach’s knuckles.
He watches his shoulders and how they slump with exhaustion but how his neck is filled with tension. He grabs the hand and squeezes.
Per hospital rules, masks aren’t allowed, no balaclava and especially not one with a skull mask sewn to it. He was allowed to wear at least a surgical one. Gary seemingly discarded it.
When Roach looks at him he can see all his face, it’s set into a neutral one, tired and worn. His eyes are a little blank before he blinks. Ghost squeezes the hand again.
Gary hums and Simon looks at him. Looks at both of his eyes, down the slope of his nose and over the many bandages that litter his face.
He sits up more, ungluing himself from the pillows that are shaped after him, to sit by himself. Gary frowns a little at the movement. Simon doesn’t really regard his expression much, opting to stare down at the hand he still has clasped in his.
He uncurls the fingers with his other, swiping them gently and pressing his thumb on the center of the palm. He smiles as the arm relaxes.
His whole hand circles the wrist keeping it secure.
“Gary.”
He lifts his head as he says it, catching how Gary stares at their point of contact with heavy lidded eyes. He looks almost asleep.
Roach looks up.
And there’s a pause as Simon looks at his eyes again, his mind is made up but he was expecting his heart to race and speed up. It doesn’t. Instead beating comfortably in his chest.
He smiles.
“I love you.”
Roach blinks. Then his eyes widen and Simon feels a little fuzzy at the feeling of his pulse accelerating on the tips of his fingers.
Roach– Gary knows what he means, that’s why his face falls almost immediately after the surprise.
His hand tries to sign before he sees it’s shaking too much for that.
Gary takes a deep breath and Simon sees him mouthing his name, before his voices comes out shakly:
“I don’t– I can’t–”
“I know”
He smiles because Gary looks at him. Idiot.
“I don’t care.”
There’s a pause and Simon is ready for rejection. His smile doesn’t waver however, maybe it’s the drugs because he feels like he’s floating. The feeling of speaking out what he’s feeling and putting it out there, finally after so long... couldn’t really break with a ‘no’. He’s fine with rejection; he just wanted Gary to know.
Tears slip past Roach’s eyes, that makes him panic.
He cups the side of his face and swipes the tears with his thumb, using his bent index finger to swipe more of them when they come out in reverence. "What 's wrong?”
Gary shakes his head, and anxiety floods Simon, but then he huffs a soft laugh.
“Haven’t heard that in a while.”
His voice is sticky with emotion. That won’t do Simon thinks so he pulls his mask down and cups both sides of his face pressing a kiss to his forehead.
Roach slips down and presses closer to his chest, he presses his chin on top of his head and leans back.
He’s starting to comb his fingers through his hair when he feels a finger gliding through his collarbone.
‘Love you too.’
Puts my hands in my hips: MAN THAT’S A LOT OF WORDS [writes more]
they...make me feel...so much I could (and have) cry for them. They just mean so much to me eueueueeueu.
This is me trying to explain -- as I put in my notes: “This about what made Ghost finally let Roach in. How it happened. And when he finally realized his feelings.” -- their relationship is kinda hard to put into words cus I see it as somthing more complex than friend and lover so here! They’re partners.
