Guys imagine, Roach died, before the creation of 141, but Soap is able to see his ghost. He was originally following Ghost around, really annoyed that he was using his death as an excuse to not get close to anyone, but when he found out Soap could see him and talk to him he started following him around instead.
And they get really close, like two peas in a pod, except they have to be discreet about it because no one else can see or hear Roach, and they'd think Soap was crazy if they saw him talking to no one.
They use that for shenanigans too: Roach will go follow someone else and report back to Soap, Gaz is genuinely starting to believe Soap has superpowers or something. It's really useful on missions as well, and Soap managed to successfully rescue team members thanks to Roach being able to move through walls and everything.
(Roach is not the only ghost Soap is able to see btw, just the only one he's talking to.)
And then Roach is witnessing his past lover trying really hard to not fall in love with Soap, and Soap trying really hard to not do anything about the love he already feels, and he has to try and convince Soap that he is dead. During that conversation he finds out that something else that keeps Soap from doing something is that he feels very confused about everything because he also has feeling for Roach.
So now Roach has to try and convince him that even if he was still alive he wouldn't have a problem with that. He's known for a while that he was polyamorous, but he hadn't really dared talking to Ghost about that because he thinks he's jealous and possessive.
And Soap is like "oh yeah, you want me to go say to Ghost 'don't worry about your dead lover that I'm not supposed to know, he's actually polyamorous and also in love with me, I know because his ghost told me!' ??? I'm sure he's gonna take that well!"
But Roach is nothing if not resourceful and he manages to put Soap in situations where he's forced to interact with Ghost, and eventually they kiss and their relationship is beginning to be something. They're not really sure what.
And Roach is sad, because he has to watch the two men he loves being in love without him, yes, but at least they're both happy, and it makes him feel a bit better. And then during a mission Ghost almost dies.
Because he was alone and Soap and Gaz were together, Roach was following Ghost this time, ready to fly to Soap in an instant if there was any problems. But there was and he didn't have time, so he instinctively grabbed the gun being pointed towards Ghost's head and moved it as the person was shooting, saving Ghost's life, giving him enough time to shoot the enemy himself.
But even as the threat is eliminated, Ghost is still looking up from where he's on the ground, staring right through him, looking shocked. No, not right through him, he realises when he moves to the side and Ghost's eyes follow him. He also realises that he grabbed the gun. He's never grabbed anything before, in all his years of being a ghost.
Then suddenly Ghost's eyes move wildly around, and he figures he disappeared from his view. He can still go through the walls, but he's kept the ability to grab stuff when he wants. It gives him a ton of new possibilities, to fuck with people and, of course, to touch Soap.
"I wish you were actually alive," Soap whispers to him, holding his hands against his face as he's falling asleep.
"What the fuck," comes Ghost's voice the next morning, waking both of them up - wait, since when could Roach sleep?
Soap doesn't understand immediately, because he's always been able to see Roach. But Ghost is standing in the door, looking straight at dead past lover.
Turns out Soap is a necromancer and he had no idea, though the whole 'I can see dead people' should probably have told him sooner that he wasn't normal... The more he wishes Roach is alive, the more he actually is. And they all end up happy and together. And Gaz is very happy to have won the bet that Soap indeed has superpowers.
The day Roach says, in a wondering voice, "I... I think I'm hungry" is the day they understand that something is really happening and he's actually coming back to life.
(Also, Soap has no control at all on his abilities, he has no idea what does what and why, he knows nothing. No one knows.)
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Inspired by this godly post which unlocked a part of my brain I didn't know existed, and solidly gave me complete and utterly brainrot until I wrote something
A thousand thanks to Lily for her wonderful help :))
"Does Kelly not mind you spending all your time with me?" Daniel asks, because she's Daniel and once she's thought something she can't keep her fucking mouth shut, even if she knows it's trouble.
Max looks up, pausing his set of weights, and blinks at her. Daniel feels her cheeks warm. One day, that mouth of yours will run you straight into trouble, young lady, her mum used to tell her, voice firm. Good girls know when to keep quiet. Daniel used to just laugh at the warning. Her laugh is loud and the opposite of quiet, but she used to know that everyone always loved her laugh.
"No," Max says after a beat and then continues lifting. Daniel hates the way her gaze tracks over him, lingering on the movement of his muscles, the ease with which he lifts the weight. Tawny hair brushed out of his eyes, cheeks dusted warm from the exertion. "Of course not."
"Why of course not?" Daniel asks. She wants to sew her mouth shut. This time, Max didn't look over as he answers.
"Kelly's very secure, she's not like other girls. And besides, she knows you."
It's strange. When Daniel was seven and Michelle eleven, they'd gone rock pool fishing. Michelle had been crouched over a shallow pool of water, her finger delicately brushing the tentacles of the anemone. Daniel had been scaling the rocks, wanting steeper, taller, more.
She'd found the shark first, nestled high at between the rocks, and for a beat she hadn't known what she was looking at. Just details, but nothing collective. Rotting smell. Shrivelled holes where eyes should be. Scales of silver lightning. Rubbery fish picked clean. The flash of bone, pearl white.
Then she realised what she was staring at, and screamed. Her father held her while her mother scolded her. I told you not to go climbing! It's too dangerous, Daniel. Why can't you just be good like your sister and stay by the shallow pools?
And then, later, ice cream. Her dad, beside her, explaining the horror away.
It's just nature, Dani. The waves wash them up, and they get stuck there. They can't get back to the sea, and then the sun dries them out.
They drown on air, Michelle helpfully pointed out, her feet kicking happily as she licked her 99. Daniel just just nodded, ice cream untouched. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sunken holes, the rotting flesh.
She hasn't thought about that moment for years, but suddenly it washes back over her. She feels simultaneously both. The child, staring at the carcass, frozen in shock. The shark, burning up in the sun, chocking on air.
"What does that mean?" She asks, and somehow her voice is normal, is fine. She's fine. She's not a girl or a shark. She's stupid and a fool and a gawky, ugly idiot, but she's fine.
Max manages to shrug, even with the 50kg weights. "You know. Just that Kelly knows you. She knows what you're like. And she knows me too, of course."
Daniel swallows. She nods. She hates everything about herself.
"That's sexist," she forces herself to say lightly because if the silence stretches anymore, Max might notice and set his weights down and look at her, and Daniel can't bear that. She doesn't want his eyes on her, taking in every blemish and imperfection. The boyish, ratty clothes she works out in and her curls gone frizzy with sweat and her inked skin, so different to Max and Kelly's pale, perfect complexions.
"What's sexist?"
"Saying she's not like other girls," Daniel tells him, setting down the weights she been doing. Instead, she goes to grab the skipping rope, just for something to do.
Max laughs. Daniel's glad she's turned away. Her cheeks are burning again.
"It's the truth. You, of course, Daniel, are not like other girls either." He says it lightly and ends with a chuckle, as if it's all just a joke. Daniel drags a sweaty hand over her cheeks. Burning, burning, burning.
Apparently, in Max's mind, she and Kelly are the same; both not like other girls. Kelly, with her faultless makeup and wonderful daughter and classy dresses and perfect feminity. One end of the scale. Daniel, the other. Barely even considered "a girl." Always one of the boys, only woman in f1 for a reason.
"Thanks," Daniel says. She wants to make it sound humorous, like she's in on the joke too. Instead, it's too cold; muttered as if she actually gave two shits about the conversation anyway. She has an F1 season to prepare for, she's too busy to care about stupid shit like this.
There's a beat of silence as Daniel stretches out the rope, feeling the plastic flex and give. Then, Max exhaling, the gentle bump of his weights against the floor, the workout bench shifting as his centre of gravity changes. Daniel keeps her back to him, ignoring it all.
"I did not mean it as insult," Max finally says, stubborn. Daniel forces a laugh, turning to give him a smile, all teeth.
"Of course not Maxy. I get that." Voice light and blithe. One of the boys.
She thinks he'll drop it, but instead, his frown only grows. Pinched brows, thin lips, cheeks growing blotchy. Blue eyes regard her, intense and unyielding. She burns from the inside out.
"I've upset you," he says, in that blunt, genuine way only he can do. Daniel barks out another laugh.
"Don't be stupid. You're not important enough to ever be able to get under my skin." She gives him another smile with only teeth. She feels insane. Her mother tells her good girls stay quiet.
"I'm sorry," he tries again, growing frustrated now, "I did not mean -"
"I told you, you didn't upset me," she drops the skipping rope without actually using it. "Anyway, I'm bored. Wanna get lunch now? Or are you still trying to pump those muscle with more testosterone?"
Max gives her one last, searching look before standing. They're almost the same height. She wants to shrink to nothing.
"That is not how testosterone works, Daniel," he says with the air of an overworked teacher. He looks at her with a smile, uncertain but genuine. She laughs, allowing him to move the conversation on.
She walks out of the gym first but holds the door for him. He grins, relieved. His fingers skim hers as he takes it and she lets go. A chill runs through her. Cold like scales, cold like ice cream untouched.
Follow up here!
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Congrants on the 100 followers 4402!!! You deserve much more for your amazing writing<3
For the event, can i request 28. princess carry with ikey? If im not wrong, he already said he likes being carried like a princess!!
So maybe after a day out w him he starts complaining about how his feet hurt from wearing heels for such a long time and reader just starts carrying him like the princess he is
thank you for the compliment, i appreciate it!
kyaaaa… does anyone else’s heart lurch and jump and do a sick dance move when they think about being swept off their feet and carried like a princess or is it just me… i’m doing research, like, totally…!
tags: established relationship, fluff, gender neutral reader
#100 followers for 4402 - 28. princess carry
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You hold Ike’s hand within your own as the ocean waves lap along the shore. It’s a peaceful beach, with sloping sands and sprouted grass right where you stand, dividing the sand and the stable dirt under your feet. “I discovered it a while ago. It’s hard to find, so people don’t usually visit here, even though it’s so calm. It’s for just the two of us.”
“It is. I love it,” Ike says. He looks contented, but his eyes drift to his shoes. “It’s just that, when you said we were going to the beach, I thought you meant the side with the boardwalk.”
“Oh. Right.” You forgot. Ike usually wears boots with a high heel. Stilettos and sand are sworn enemies.
“Um, don’t worry! I’ll figure something out.”
“But how? You’ll sink.”
“Yeah… You have a point, I guess.” He sours. “My feet kind of hurt from all the walking, too.”
“They do?”
“It’s fine. I’ll manage.”
“But I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“It’s not the first time, and definitely won’t be the last. I’m used to it. It’s not that bad after so long, but still, the sand is going to be a problem – aah!”
Ike’s thought gets cut off as you squat, swing your arm under his legs, and gather him all up in a bundle. In his surprise, he grabbed the first thing his hands landed on – your shoulder – and your hands support him as you hold him gingerly.
He sputters, so small in your arms. “R-Reader! What are you – did you seriously just –“
“You said it yourself, the sand’s a problem, right?”
You readjust. Ike clings to your neck as he bounces once in your grasp, and shoves his head along your shoulder and out of sight. “How can you even carry me?”
You step forward to where the beach starts with a playful grin. “I’m much stronger than I look.”
Your shoes meet the doughy sand at a lower level than the grass. A short breath frosts down the scruff of your neck while you jump down and Ike buries himself closer to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his ears glow red between the gold earrings.
“Look at me, princess?”
Ike shoots up at the pet name, and sure enough, the rest of his face glows in the same blush all the way down to his neck. He doesn’t even want to fight how that name runs straight through his veins and into his heart. He’s too set in your arms to resist.
He melts like a sigh as you hold him higher. Ike tastes like ocean against your lips.
The sticky, salty air glues his mouth to yours for a blink longer than intended. “Let me treat you like royalty,” you murmur.
Ike nods, transfixed.
For Ike, you are eternal. Your face is every reflection off the bubbling sea and every sparkle shed by the sun. To be held like this is enough. The kiss is enough. You are enough. The minutes pass but the world is stuck in a selfish pause, and he replays all your love on loop.
For you, he is loyal and love, and you know he is too precious to last another moment like this. The second goes by. You let it go.
So you hoot and holler, the quiet broken, and he squeaks in response as you run along the shore. “Incoming, please make way for Your Royal Highness, the lovely Princess Ike!”
Your princess cracks into songbird chirps and a red-faced smile. “What are you doing, there’s no one around!”
“Sorry, can’t hear you, too busy spreading the good word of my beloved princess.” You stop to stare at the ocean. The seafoam rises and falls flat against itself, and rustles out the music of the waves as the whitewater dies out on the wet sand. “YO, OCEAN, YOU’RE NOTHING COMPARED TO MY IKEY!”
You spin around, and his earrings swing with the motion. Ike squeals. The sea breeze picks up a spray of water that flicks against your faces, but his laughter is high-pitched and uncontrollable, and persists even when the saltwater gets in his mouth.
Bubbly like the ocean backdrop, but he’s far more breathtaking than the beach could ever be. Especially at this angle, where his eyes can barely stay open because he’s smiling so wide, and the tousled ends of his hair matches the bottle-blue waves behind him, and he is so close that his giggles breathe life back at you. Your hands are flush along his back where they belong. The sandy grasp treasures the tide.
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Good luck with your challenge, I stopped commenting because I never got a reply back which sucksss 😭🥱
in all honesty, writers don't owe you a reply.
and i get where you're coming from; it is nice to get a reply to a comment you left! but expecting one back feels a bit entitled, doesn't it? you already got a fic FOR FREE. you leave a comment to thank them for this gift. and then you expect them to thank you in return?
i don't mean to sound ungrateful because i can promise you, it's not like us writers are getting swamped with comments LOL. i have many writer friends and no matter for how many years we've all been actively writing, a single comment will still make our day. no matter how small that comment is! just a simple "hey, i loved reading this" or "it's 4am and i'm reading this instead of sleeping" or a silly keysmash shows us that someone out there really enjoyed what we wrote.
idk but hearing you say you stopped commenting simply because you never get a reply back left a really bitter taste in my mouth. maybe the person behind the fic is out of spoons, maybe they simply forgot to reply, maybe they're keeping your comment in their inbox and stare at it lovingly because it gives them fuel for the entire week. the reasons for it are endless. not getting a reply to your comment doesn't mean the writer is ungrateful. it's just a really shitty thing of you to say.
i'm gonna keep commenting on my fav fics because it makes me happy that i get to show my gratitude. it's a little kindness that doesn't hurt anyone and honestly the energy you spent on sending this ask could have been used to do the very same, but oh well.
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