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#ghost is the big bro

plexflexico · 1 year

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"Tell me a joke, Ghost." - A Call of Duty Fic

Characters: Ghost, Soap, Vargas, Fisher (OFC)

Themes: War. Loss. Severe injury. Amputation. Explosions. Hope. Leadership. Shitting on Americans a little (Sorry!). INCREDIBLY graphic descriptions of a rural legend that gets told over and over up here in the wilds of Canada.

Warnings: Everything you see in the Themes section above. So, so, so much angst. So much.

Length: 2.3k

Disclaimer: I do not play COD. What I have done, however, is binge consume about a hundred hours of clips and cutscenes from all the various titles in which Ghost features. I make no promises for accuracy, I just had some shit to work through in my head and Simon "Ghost" Riley was just the Blorbo for the job.

This work is intended for adults only. If you're not old enough to secure a line of credit on your own you should probably git. Go on! I said GIT!

**********

“Tell me a joke, Ghost.”

That was the second last thing he heard her say as she lay on the floor of a warehouse, bleeding out and half-crushed by the wreckage of a bombing run.

Her voice was beginning to slur, the panic leaking out and unreality setting in.

“Don’t feel much like laughing right now, Fisher.”

“Sometimes it’s not about you, LT.”

***

“...’friendly fire’ incident resulting in the death of two Canadian service members and multiple injuries among the Commonwealth Forces deployed. Major General John S. McCreary has promised a full investigation as the White House extends their deepest condolences to the families of all those killed or injured…”

***

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

Those words echoed in Simon’s head as he sat with Soap in the helo on the way back to base. The radio, tuned to the international news, carried breathless descriptions of the total fucking clusterfuck they just hauled themselves out of.

Some dumb fucking cowboy with more balls than brains thought he was going to go home a hero and instead he’s on his way to the brig. If there’s any justice he’ll never see the outside of one again and neither will anyone else who was on that bird or in their COC.

Except there isn’t really any justice. Just actions and consequences and they only line up hard for people like Simon. Like Soap.

Like her.

***

“...when pickings are slim they’ll scavenge and enough of those lazy fuck weekend warriors only grab the rack and leave the rest to rot and attract predators that keep the rest of the deer away.”

Her voice was bitter and laced with vitriol, but only for a moment. Like a switch her scowl bloomed into a mischievous grin as she downed her fourth shot of the night and chased it with some of the on-tap swill that passed for beer.

“So they scavenge these carcasses along hunting trails, and the easiest way to get inside a big ol’ buck is right up the poop chute—”

Soap chokes on his drink, doubling over as Alejandro smacks him soundly on the back.

“—so they just chew their way in, hollow ‘em out, and leave nothing but a shell behind.”

“Fuckin’ christ,” rumbled Ghost. “That’s the name they gave you?”

“Better than the one they tried first. ‘Medusa’. By the time I was done with the guy who suggested it, ‘Fisher’ kinda stuck.”

***

“We’re down again in 5, LT,” Johnny’s voice cuts through his reverie, bringing him back into focus.

“If we grab a truck we can be at the infirmary in five—”

“No,” Ghost spits out. “We need to go debrief. We’ve got intel they’re gonna need. We need to get it to them as fast as possible so they can get ahead of the Americans on this.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a fuckin’ heart attack Johnny. How pissed is she gonna be if we fuck around where we can’t do any good?” Simon’s eyes behind the mask are tired, red-rimmed from lack of sleep and stress, burning bright in all the black.

Soap said nothing, turning his face away from Ghost’s stare and gazing out over the nighttime cityscape that flowed by under the fuselage.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

Simon aches to his bones. He and Johnny were separated as soon as they touched down, taken to offices and questioned, the same questions over and over.

His soldier's recall is perfect and no detail is too small to be left out. Hours and hours of it, but he sat and took it and hoped that Soap was able to do the same.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

Soap bursts into the hallway to find Ghost waiting for him, sprawled in a chair and flicking his thumb along the screen of his phone.

“Thought I’d never get out of there,” the sergeant grumbled. “Six fucking hours and the shittiest fucking tea they could find—”

“She’s still in surgery.”

Ghost’s voice is quiet. Flat.

“How— Is she gonna be okay?”

“Don’t know. Not a medic.”

“What now?”

“We smell like we’ve been rolling in dead bodies and pigshit. Hit the showers. Meet me in the mess in 30,” he growled as he lifted himself off the chair and stalked down the hallway, heading for the exit and not waiting for a reply.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

His skin burned pleasantly under the needle spray, the boiling heat of it helping him believe he might be finally getting clean after days of being stuck without any facilities in a city under siege. He should have been used to those conditions, but this mission left him feeling unclean in a way he couldn’t articulate.

“Tell me a joke, Ghost.”

Fuck. She loves to laugh. Always laughing about anything— nothing— whatever. Always ready to make him laugh.

***

“Hey Fisher, got a joke for ya. Knock Knock—”

“Come back with a warrant, LT.”

***

She liked to argue, too. Never afraid to say what was on her mind and never afraid to challenge anyone when what was right was on the line but also knowing how to bust balls just enough to get someone to listen to her.

***

“Hey, Fisher! What country’s capital is the fastest growing?”

“I dunno, LT. Which one?”

“Ireland. Every day it’s Dublin.”

***

He scrubbed shampoo into his hair and rinsed off, rolling his shoulders to loosen them as he shut off the taps and grabbed a towel.

***

“You gonna take that shot, Fisher, or are you waiting for an engraved invitation?”

“If you’re gonna ride my ass that hard, Soap, you’ll need to put a ring on my finger.”

…and she made the shot before anyone could say another word. Clean and precise, taken the moment the target stepped a foot to the left, leaving every single sheet of paper on the desk pristine and unsullied, making it that much easier to enact the next step of the plan.

“Nice shot,” comes Ghost’s deep rumble in their ears.

“Goddamn right, LT. That was art,” she crowed, her adrenaline high.

Each of them could picture her, grinning like a maniac, eyes bright and flint-hard. They’d seen it enough now to know that she lived for that split second when physics, skill, and luck all solidify into the perfect moment. The perfect shot. The flawless entry. The snatch so smooth it starts rumors about ghosts.

She wasn’t a perfectionist as much as she was driven to get it right. Driven to get it right to make it easier for the next step, the next team, the next generation coming up the ranks…

***

Johnny’s hunched over a plate, pushing food around, ignoring the racket of a hundred different languages and half as many accents of each that always filled the mess to bursting when the Five Eyes were playing nicely enough to try to reach a common goal.

The twang of American English is conspicuously absent tonight.

Simon grabbed a plate and made his way along, scooping up enough to satisfy his caloric and nutritional needs, not much caring what it was since it was all bound to taste the same, anyway.

He slid into a seat across from Soap, his back to the room, lifting his balaclava just enough to shovel dinner into his mouth.

Not a word passed between them until Ghost muttered, “Stop playing with it, Johnny. S’not yer pecker.”

“No time for jokes, LT. Not now,” the sergeant sighs heavily.

“Not a joke. Eat.”

The younger man was about to argue when he caught the look he was getting, so he forked up some ‘steak pie’ and started to chew.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

It was hours later when Ghost’s phone pinged quietly on the table in the small office that he’d managed to commandeer for the two of them. The rest of the JTF Ghost Team were scattered, and only Alejandro was near enough that he could drop what he was working on and make his way to the Five Eyes installation.

They’d had word that she was out of surgery at least three hours ago, transferred to Trauma ICU for monitoring. Since then he and Johnny had been methodically going through every scrap of telemetry and positioning, every order, every syllable of captured radio chatter, and every last bit of data they had— trying to find anything they hadn’t already come across in the debrief.

The message wasn’t, as they had expected, Alejandro signalling his arrival.

MEDBAY C65E:

‘She’s awake. Asking to see you.’

GHOST:

‘How is she?’

MEDBAY C65E:

‘Awake. You should get here as soon as you can.’

Ghost didn’t bother to reply, heading for the door as he half-shouted over his shoulder, “She’s awake, Soap. We gotta go. Now.”

***

In stark contrast to the unending activity outside its walls, the Trauma ICU was a place of quiet, darkend calm. Lights were low. Machines beeped and whirred quietly, alarms confined to lights on status boards and the low hum of pagers buzzing on hips.

The ‘panopticon’ layout meant that each patient was visible to the central desk at all times, each bed angled towards the glass windows that separated them from the main space.

“Lieutenant? Sergeant? Please follow me, I’ll take you to her,” came a kind, strong voice from the desk.

Ghost felt his heart lurch, his stomach sour and roiling as he followed the pretty nurse with the copper hair to the window behind which Fisher lay, tubes and leads coming and going from everywhere.

How the fuck is she so small? She’s never been small. Almost six feet. Shoulders like a bull and an ass like a dump truck. Legs that could mule kick an enemy’s head to a pulp. Arms that could haul a comrade out of danger like she was picking up a lamb…

Fuckin’ hell. Fuckin’ hell.

No. No! This isn’t right. This isn’t—

I can’t do this.

I can’t—

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

***

“Hey LT,” she croaked, her voice sounding dragged over broken glass.

“Hey, Fisher.”

“You look like shit, Soap,” she managed to get out before she had to lay back again.

“His fault,” he griped, pointing at Ghost. “This fucker made me eat the crap they serve in the mess. I think that fuckin’ pie was made outta decommed tires.”

She smiled, nodding, not letting the tears that pooled in her eyes slip down her cheeks.

Ghost couldn’t look away from her face.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

“Give us a couple minutes, Johnny,” he said quietly.

“Sure, LT. I’ll go bug those gorgeous nurses. If you hear screaming, don't come save me.”

As soon as the door shut Ghost picked up a chair from the corner and took a seat by her bed, keeping his eyes on her face.

“I need a sitrep, Sergeant. You good for that?”

It made him ache inside to see Fisher struggle to keep her composure, and then win the battle with the storm no doubt raging inside her.

“Yeah, LT. I’m good for it,” she said, sounding stronger as she squared her shoulders and prepared to do what she had been trained to do. “What’d they tell you?”

“Nothin’. Just that you were awake and asking for us.”

“Turns out my mom was right. I can’t keep my fuckin’ legs together. Left one in that fuckin’ shithole and they took the other one here.”

“You in pain?”

“Nah,” she scoffed. “They gave me the good stuff and a spinal block. Can’t feel shit past my tits and I’ll be pissing in a bag for the next couple weeks. I’ll stay in the stratosphere until they get that fucking thing outta me.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Ghost’s heart breaking open in his chest because you can’t save all of them, or some of them, or any of them. War is going to chew them all up and spit them out broken, whether the world can see the cracks or not.

“Sometimes it’s not about you…”

“Hey, Fisher—”

“What’s up, LT?”

“Did you know I’m terrified of elevators?”

“Wh-what? When did—”

“Got so bad I started taking steps to avoid ‘em.”

The woman on the bed fixed him with a look that could have crumbled concrete, “I dunno, LT. Can you really trust stairs? After all, they’re always up to something.”

***

“...and then everyone was running and I swear to fuck there were a thousand lights going off everywhere around her bed. I was ready for the worst when I saw the LT come out of her room wipin’ his eye like he’d had his heart broke—”

Alejandro, who had been half-running to keep up with Soap as he rocketed down the hallway of the Med Centre, reached out and grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

“Is she okay? What happened?”

“The lass is fine. Seems LT told her a fucking joke and the she got him back with a quip so good that he couldn’t stop laughing— then she couldn’t stop laughing. Busted open half the stitches in her side. They had to give her another two units of blood before they got it under control.”

Vargas started to laugh, “You’re all crazy, you know that?”

“You’re one of us now, laddie. Better get used to it.” He clapped Alejandro on the shoulder warmly, “She’s gonna be okay, you know? She won’t be in the field again, but she’s not out.”

“That’s good,” he whispered, almost to himself.

“Damn right, that’s good. She’s with us until the end and we’re not ready to give up yet. Not by a long fuckin’ shot.”

END

**********

...and if you're wondering what the hell animal I'm referring to when I say "Fisher" it's one of these.

#simon 'ghost' riley #john 'soap' mactavish #call of duty fic #ghost + soap bein' bros #ghost is the big bro #soap is also the big bro #fisher is also also big bro

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soapssock · 17 days

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Gaz: It's easy. If you have 69 apples, and I give you 92, how much do you have?

Soap: big fuckin' hauns, that's fur shuir.

Gaz: lord, saveth me and taketh me hence from this evil spirit

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moooonah · 2 years

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im not being funny but humphrey from ghosts has the most raw fucking story and it seems almost unintentional. like he's literally comic relief with not much screentime but if you think about it too closely doesn't it evoke like. extreme existential horror??

like man was lonely for basically his entire life and then got accidentally decapitated after sacrificing himself for a woman who resented him so she could have a better life, even though he also didn't get the life he wanted. it wasn't even a heroic death lol. then he spent hundreds of years separated from his body alone in death too because nobody ever remembers him... like im fully aware its not meant to be this serious but jesus christ, humphrey's story isn't even a tragedy, it's straight up hell lol

#bbc ghosts #humphrey bone #bbc ghosts humphrey #i know it's also that larry rickard plays robin too and that's why humphrey isn't a big character but jesus #it all just contributes to the hell that is this man's story #like bro he doesn't even know if sophie managed to get that new life #how did the others not immediately decide to be a little nicer to the man who lived a lonely life and a lonely death #i hope he gets to move on cuz damn. give this man peace

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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 4 months

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Teeth Headcanons for Modern Warfare Characters

kinda a short one this time. So close to the end of these only Price is left! (might write for Ale and Rudy?? but I mean for the pre-written stuff.) and oh boy its my favorite MacTavish! I had fun making this one. His teeth can hardly ever been seen in the campaign so I had lots of creative freedom. now, onto my teeth headcanons for...

Soap

In contrast to Ghost, Soap brags about having perfect teeth. Without ever getting braces his teeth are straight, fit in his mouth, and he didn’t even need wisdom teeth surgery. He brushes his teeth the majority of nights, but never in the morning, doesn’t floss, and yet he’s never gotten a cavity once! And his gums feel fine!

Except, if he ever actually bothered to *visit* a dentist they would break every one of those notions to SHREDS! His overbite is REAL and will lead to tooth decay if he doesn’t catch on. He has 2 active cavities that just haven’t reached his nerve yet, if he ever actually *tried* to floss his mouth would look like a MURDER SCENE. And while his lower wisdom teeth did erupt without issue, his upper ones are just HANGING up there, partially erupted and *waiting* to become infected because he cannot clean them. It is by sheer LUCK he has not had a dental emergency yet, someone, please drag this man to a dentist NOW.

If you look at his jaw you can see that his lower jaw is relatively large hence why I think his lower wisdom teeth would be fine, but I’m also taking the liberty of giving him an overbite because a) I want to goddammit, and b) look at fig 2… just… if I can’t look at that and say possible overbite I don’t know what photo I could say that too.

Okay so, I looked up Soap’s actor after writing this, and I don’t think the actor has an overbite so maybe my wishes are dashed but these are also headcanons sooo….. I’ve been as accurate as I can be up till this point let me have this dbfhdjh. Hadir's teeth are different from his actors too! Neil Ellice’s teeth are BEAUTIFUL jezus, pearl whites frfr Soap’s teeth are NOT that shiny.

Fig 1 & 2

Fig 3

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ghostdrinkssoup · 2 years

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will and hannibal canonically say the weirdest fucking shit to each other and are mutually obsessed as if any of the gibberish they say is Peak Romance but really it’s just something to do with organs and god and fish and how one of them is a boat (symbolically)

#s1 hannigram is so funny #will just says something concerning and hannibal looks at him with big ‘ol heart eyes as he slowly frames him for murder #he’s so Endeared but will is so creepy </333 #no longer falling for poor meow meow will propaganda even s1 will #I’m literally rewatching it now AND THE THINGS HE SAYSSSS BRO #it’s part of his charm #hannibal #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannigram #ghost speaks

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sosbela · 6 months

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Ghost Head-Canon

i have a huge head canon that Ghost might hate sleeping in an entirely dark room LOL.

idk in my head bro has a night-lamp that he turns on every night before going to sleep and if he’s out on missions, he might struggle to fall asleep w/o it.

besides everything, bro stills a 32y/o baby

#oh lemme turn my lamp on #so i dont feel like im in a coffin 🥰#bro is a big baby dont judge him #call of duty #cod mw3 #mw3 #mwiii #ghost #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare iii #simon ghost riley #headcanon

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egonspenglerishot · 7 months

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A friend of mine from discord drew this of my oc Cardinal Sei, her part of the art trade we did. I wish I could tag her but I don’t think she has tumblr (and she’s currently sleeping)

But I’m going to write a small ficlet of this art that may spiral.

“Gone before you know”

Sei watched Copia as he stood in the red hallway, in the door. Countless pictures had been taken. Immortalizing him. These images would only serve as a painful reminder to Sei when her time for papacy came.

She had gone over the Re-Imperatour schedule. 130 shows. This made her stomach constrict, she knew that meant only 20 shows left until he was either retired or…a shiver ran down her spine as she looked over at Imperator. Surely she wouldn’t kill Copia- no. He was her son.

Seis hands settled on her stomach, adrenaline flowing through her veins. She knew she couldn’t do anything. Even if Copia was merely retired, Sei knew that eventually he would be put to rest with his brothers, forcefully or not.

As seis focus settled on the Copia again, Imperator looked at Sei. She was an Emeritus that was for sure. But..something seemed off. Strange even. Where had she come from. Imperator didn’t have time to contemplate this. As the lights were flicked back to normal Sei made her way to Copia, congratulating him.

“You did very well in that photo shoot. Satanas if I was stood in that light for that long I’d be blind”

Copia chuckled and waved his sister off playfully. Sei and Copia had always been close. Even when Sei was a new and fresh bishop he still was drawn to her, in a brotherly sense.

“Si. I am almost blind sorella, I’m an old man now”

Sei giggled and smiled gently. Copia was her big brother. And he accepted that. He didn’t deny it as the other Emeritus brothers had. Or as Nihil had. He accepted her.

Later that night Sei was sound asleep in bed, face fresh of any paints. However, her dreams became plagued with images of the same red corridor, with Copia stood in the doorway. The red light reflecting gently off her face, the feel of millions of eyes on her. Copias mouth is moving but no sound is coming out.

“It is your fault. It is your fault, that I am to be replaced. You want my papal title”

Sei tried speaking, tried yelling protesting anything. But nothing worked. Tears swam down her cheeks smudging her makeup as it went. She was jolted awake and greeted by a very concerned Copia.

“Oh sorella..what plagues you, a ghouleh came to get me when he heard your sobs..what is wrong”

Sei just shook her head and clung to him. Most of his papal paint was duller or completely wiped away. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back.

“Oh sorella. Did you have a nightmare again..you know you can tell your Fratello anything. I’m here for you”

Seis sobbing had been reduced to sniffles. She hiccuped and yawned the motion of Copia rubbing her back soothing. The dream was silly. Copia would never blame her. If he blamed anyone it would be their asshole of a father. Nihil.

#the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #ghost band #Cardinal OC #Ghost band oc #big bro Copia

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blueberryismilk18 · 8 months

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HEADCANON REQUESTS

Hi hi I’m Blue, and I’ll write headcanons for any of the fandoms that are in the hashtags, maybe more just ask. ———————————————————————————————————- Stuff I WONT write:

nsfw, sorry I don’t feel comfortable doing that

pedoph1l1a (gross mfs get off my page NOW)

zooph1l1a (^^^)

child/domestic/partner abuse, just abuse in gen

nothing extremely violent or gorey

incest

I WILL write:

Fluff ofc

angst

polyamory (you incest MFS GET OFF MY PAGE)

Character that are minors will be platonic only (I’m not age-ing up characters you weirdos)

if you have any questions about what I will write for ask away