#soapghost angst

[peepawpricexhat]

Catch me out here drawing Ghoap angst to try and test different brushes :) Still stuck in brainwashed Soap headrot.

[capt-mactavish]

Requiem

Ghost is tasked with tracking down a clandestine mercenary group known as "Nocturne", led by an enigmatic figure known only as "The Revenant." After months of dead-end leads, Ghost and his team finally uncover their base of operations. But what he finds there shakes him to his core, and he is forced to confront a devastating truth.

Tw: death, violence

Night had settled by the time Ghost and his small team breached the compound. Inside was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that set off alarm bells, like a calm before a storm. He and his team moved cautiously, stalking through the dim corridors, clearing rooms with practiced ease, senses on high alert. 

The intel was thin— shoddy at best— like chasing shadows through smoke: an encrypted radio transmission they were lucky to intercept. But Laswell has assured him it was their best lead yet on Nocturne, a shadowy mercenary group that had been gaining traction over the past year, and always managed to stay one step ahead of Ghost and his team. 

But it was their leader, the elusive figure known only as The Revenant, that gnawed at Ghost’s nerves. Every operation Nocturne executed had a precision that felt surgical, methodical, coldly efficient, and yet— there was something darker lurking just beneath the brutality; a disturbing familiarity that made Ghost’s skin crawl with every report.

High value targets had gone dark, military operations had been derailed. The attacks felt personal, as if whoever was behind them knew the playbook all too well. Every ambush, every assault, every kill, every tactical maneuver— these weren’t just ordinary mercenaries— they were trained soldiers who knew how to dismantle an operation piece by piece, just as Ghost had been trained to do. 

Ghost led his team deeper into the compound, sweeping through it quietly and efficiently. 

But the deeper they went, the more it felt like a trap. 

“Clear,” Ghost muttered, eyes sweeping over the room he had just breached. 

It looked to be some kind of command center. The walls were lined with maps, and the table at the center was strewn with tactical plans, field notes and intelligence reports. Ghost sifted through them, taking note of their contents, his eyes narrowing as he recognized something; the handwriting, sketches, familiar abbreviations. 

His chest tightened as a memory flashed before his eyes of years ago, standing in the briefing room with Soap who was drawing out a mission plan with his usual rough humor. A smirk on his lips and a light in his eyes. 

It was a messy scrawl he’d seen countless times: Soap’s chicken-scratch notes hastily scribbled on the edges of tactical maps or in the margins of mission reports or on personal notes meant for Ghost’s eyes only. The same crude roughness, sharp and uneven. It was Soap’s handwriting, there was no mistaking it. 

He shook his head. It had to be a coincidence, or he’s finally losing it, seeing things that aren’t there. But as his eyes moved from the plans on the table to the maps on the walls, more details stuck out to him, more evidence of Soap’s presence. He stepped closer, mesmerized, his heart thumping in his chest.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and there was a soft commotion behind him, and he turned to see Nocturne operatives had all of his men on their knees, weapons trained at the back of their heads. 

A figure appeared in the doorway, half obscured by shadow. The silhouette was tall and broad-shouldered, familiar in a way that made Ghost’s stomach twist up in a knot. They stepped forward, slow and deliberate, face hidden behind a sleek, black mask. But the voice that came from behind it was unmistakable.

“Ghost… been a long time.”

Ghost’s chest constricted, dread flooding through every fiber of his being. His eyes burned and his throat tightened. “Soap?” He managed to croak out.

The figure chuckled darkly, sending shivers down Ghost’s spine. “Don’t you know? Soap is dead. You and Price made sure of that. All that’s left now is The Revenant.”

No. It can’t be.

The figure reached up slowly and took off the mask. Ghost’s breath caught in his throat. His mind reeled.

Soap was gone.

Ghost had buried that grief long ago, come to terms with the loss, though the pain lingered, like a dull ache from a wound that never fully healed right. But now, here he was, standing in front of him, twisted, broken and filled with venomous hatred.

“What happened to you?” Ghost’s voice was thick with emotion, almost hoarse. “What is all this?”

Soap, no, The Revenant took a step forward, his eyes, once light and jovial, burned with malice. “You have some nerve asking that, after what you did. You, and Price, the whole bloody system. You left me for dead. You think I don’t know the truth?”

Soap’s words were like a dagger to the gut. This wasn’t right. Soap had to know they didn’t abandon him. He’d been MIA— presumed dead, yes, but never abandoned. Never forgotten.

“Don’t lie to me!” Soap roared, slamming his fist down on the table, making Ghost jump. His voice trembled with unbridled rage. “I was betrayed. Left to rot. And when I climbed out of that hellhole, I had already been replaced. You and Price moved on, and I was left behind. Expendable. Forgotten.”

“W-We didn’t know, we looked for you—”

Ghost frantically recalled back to the mission Soap hadn’t come back from. The firefight, the chaos, everything had come down around them. They’d searched, done everything they could to find him, but there had been so sign of him. Like he had just vanished. They assumed the worst. Price had to practically drag Ghost to exfil. 

“Dead? Aye, that would’ve been convenient, wouldn’t it?” Soap’s voice dripped with bitterness. “But I survived, Simon, and I’ll make you all pay for what you did to me.” 

“Price didn’t know, I-I didn’t know,” Ghost pleaded. “We thought you were—”

The air between them was thick with years of trust shattered, with betrayal and regret. Ghost’s heart ached, the reality of what had become of his closest friend hitting him like a freight train.

“Soap, please—” Ghost begged, but was cut off as Soap held a hand up.

“That’s not my name," he hissed coldly. "I’m The Revenant, and I’m not your friend. I’m your enemy,” 

Before Ghost could say anything else, The Revenant signaled to his men, then stepped back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he had come. 

He felt like the ground beneath him was slipping away, and he finally felt the weight of it all, the crushing realization that the man he once knew was gone, replaced by something far more dangerous, something twisted and corrupt. And it was all his fault. 

Time seemed to slow down. He was vaguely aware someone was taking his weapons and securing his hands behind his back, and he looked on with dawning horror as his team was executed one by one in front of him.

[iciclehorrifica]

A little WIP so far of our boys and some ramblings from me because it's late at night and a fictional man hits too close to home! -- note, a little bit of angst is included :,)

I was thinking about it a lot, and I believe I like drawing/thinking a lot about Ghost and Soap so much because of my idea of how their dynamic works.

To preface, I see the insight of Ghost's past that was featured in the 09' comics applying to the reboot MW universe. Ghost's... experiences... with his father, the betrayals he's faced, and especially the things that happened in Roba's facility. It undoubtedly gave him tremendous trauma surrounding trust and intimacy and heavily affects the way he interacts with and shows his love to Soap.

It's made it to where a lot of what's come to be "standard" things in a relationship like intimacy, the sweet loving words he's been deprived of for so long coming from Soap, and being so vulnerable with someone is honestly just... confusing at best and terrifying at worst.

And I imagine for him it's so fucking frustrating to feel these things because... It's things that come from someone you care about so much. It's someone showing you all the best parts of them and how much they cherish you.

And god, it's frustrating when in the face of all this care and love, all you feel is uncertainty, hesitation, and fear that someone could love and place so much trust in you like this. And when you see it's making your partner feel bad or like it's their fault, it shatters you.

Without a doubt in my mind this has caused rifts between the two of them, with Soap feeling a little stung at times that his way of showing affection - touch - isn't always the most well-received by Ghost, which isn't his fault by any means. BUT this is why communication about when is the right time to have these close moments is so important to them.

I wanted to draw a scenario I think would be rather frequent between them, which is them cuddling and Ghost savoring the closeness, but there's still a shred of distance - a small wall he subconsciously wants to maintain his comfort. And I imagine he does this by adjusting Soap ever so slightly; his hands guiding his to where they should rest.

[thesleepy1]

I'll Wait For The Picket White Fence

A/N: Tiktok might be done with Ghost and Soap but I’m not. Not yet. 

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Summary: Johnny has a habit of asking the strangest questions before bed. They range anywhere from “What do you think birds think about when they fly over a zoo?” to “Have you ever thought about having kids?” One of those two questions makes Ghost lay awake at night. 

Word count: 527

Warnings: past trauma, pass abuse, past child abuse, angst, 

“Simon? Are you still awake?” Soap turned to his side to face the dark shape that made out his boyfriend. It was always hard to tell whether or not Ghost was asleep with the mask over his head. The older man could be so still at times that Soap was afraid he died in his sleep without him knowing. 

“Hmm,” Ghost grunted in confirmation, turning to face Soap and pulling him closer. “What do you want?” 

“Have you ever thought about having kids?”

“Well there’s a loaded question.” Ghost had slowly awoken but that inquiry had completely cleared his head of what little sleep he got. “What brought this up?” 

“I just wondered,” Soap said with the barest hint of insecurity in his tone. “We’ve been together for a while and I never asked before.” 

Ghost sighed, taking a pause to consider Soap’s question. Soap was used to these sorts of silences. He merely laid his head on Ghost’s chest and waited for an answer. Ghost’s breaths came evenly, a gentle rise and fall under Soap’s head. After a while, the younger man was lulled into a daze.

“Our jobs aside, I don’t think I’d want to bring up a kid with my kind of past,” Ghost replied honestly, arm coming up to wrap around Soap. “I didn’t exactly have a good time growing up. My father was a shit one and my brother wasn’t all that much better. I don't want to do that to a son or daughter. Having me as a father won’t do them any good.” 

Soap hugged Ghost so tight his next breath came in short. “I think you’d make a wonderful father. You already have the humor of one.”

Ghost laughed, returning the hold that Soap had on him. “You? Ever thought about having a little Johnny running around?”  

“Mhm,” Soap hummed sincerely. “I didn’t have any siblings growing up. I think I’d want two kids, twins maybe. A boy and a girl who can grow up together.” 

“Take care of each other.” 

“Yeah. They’ll look out for each other. Know that neither will ever be alone.” 

“Do you want a white picket fence and football games in the yard?” 

“I would want a garden for the spring and room in the house for a dog or two.” 

“One of those old little terriers or something big and mean?” 

“Both,” Soap’s grin formed before he even realized, a chuckle falling off his lips. “The kids will call them Ghosty and Soapy.” 

“Ghosty better be the big, mean one.”

“Nah, he’ll be the type of terrier that goes for the ankles.” 

“Atta boy.” Ghost smiled behind his mask. He moved Soap so he was impossibly closer. In the dark, they were one shapeless mass. There was no start to one person, no end to the other. They were simply a lump of blankets and sheets. “Maybe in the future, we’ll have all of those things. I’m sorry it can’t be now.”

Soap reached for Ghost in the dark and brought his head to him. He kissed the other man through his mask. “I’ll wait for as long as you need me to.” 

[pxnkedniall]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 14/16 Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley, Rodolfo Parra/Alejandro Vargas, Simon "Ghost" Riley/Gary "Roach" Sanderson Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John Price (Call of Duty), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo Parra, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Kate Laswell, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, König (Call of Duty) Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Game: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022), soap is a shit head, ghost is a shit head too, Emotional Constipation, Emotionally Repressed, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Roller Coaster, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author Has Played Call of Duty, attempting to make ghost more flirty instead of closed off and cold, soapghost, Updating tags as I go, dad price is concerned for his boys, influenced by tiktok and tumblr, Protective John Price (Call of Duty), John Price Acting as Task Force 141's Parental Figure (Call of Duty), Parental John Price (Call of Duty), Simon "Ghost" Riley Has PTSD, Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley, ghost is soft for soap, ghost gives soap a sweatshirt, Hurt John "Soap" MacTavish, Emotional Hurt, Angst and Feels, Mentioned Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Dead Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Mentioned König, Simon "Ghost" Riley Likes John "Soap" MacTavish's Hair, John "Soap" MacTavish Loves Simon "Ghost" Riley, Simon "Ghost" Riley Loves John "Soap" MacTavish, John "Soap" MacTavish / Simon "Ghost" Riley Angst, John "Soap" MacTavish Has PTSD, Needy Simon "Ghost" Riley, Idiots in Love, idiots to lovers, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religious Guilt, Psychological Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Childhood Trauma, Feelings Realization, Denial of Feelings, Emotions, Long-Term Relationship(s), Eventual Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Developing Relationship, Complicated Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Dog Tags, Bad Flirting, Headcanon, British Military, they are in love your honnor, Canon Related Series: Part 1 of It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) Summary:

Being a part of Captain Price's Special Task Force 141 was no easy work. Often away from loved ones for extended amounts of times, dropped in the middle of nowhere, with intelligence that could crumble life and society as we know it today or could launch another world war with only your closest battle buddies being there to support you; sometimes it was someone you had only known for six months being on your six and trusting they were going to get you out alive. Being killed or captured was always a threat and work was never easy. Missions often went sideways, and you sometimes only had the supplies in your bag with the clothes on your back. Blood often stained the hands of the members of the 141, they flirted with the grim reaper often, and any distractions could risk your life on the field.

So why couldn't the tall Manchester rainstorm get the short Scotland sunshine out of his head?

Something in the Orange - Zach Bryan These characters are from Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022) developed by Infinity Ward and published by Activision

[peepawpricexhat]

"...Johnny?"

And now they kiss 😗😘🥰 because I say so.

What better way to play with lighting than a brainwashed?Soap and Ghost being the massive man he is.

(Also it's not much of a background, but I'm actually really proud of how I drew it. 🥹 The wood grain and the bottles? Who am i??)