I'm Not Simon Riley I'm Ghost: Chapter 17
I'm not Simon Riley I'm Ghost: Chapter 17
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Ghost POV
__
Everything was a mess, it had always been a mess. But it made sense before, Ghost knew what he was doing and why. This? Everything that Soap was? None of that made sense, it was just an unbearable mess. From the moment he got off that truck and gave him a cocky smirk everything that Ghost worked so hard for flipped upside down.
He couldn't deny that he felt something towards Soap, something he never felt towards a human before. Before they were just a means to an end, a step to getting to the next day and to his next meal. He tried treating Soap the same way he treated others, keep him on the other side of the wall with the other humans that Ghost had determined needed to stay alive in order for him to keep progressing.
Why wasn't he over there anymore?
Ghost had always been good at categorizing the humans around him, the ones he needed to keep alive, the ones that possibly could be consumed later, and the ones that were fair game. Soap was one that needed to be kept alive, without a doubt. But Ghost was having a hard time determining why him being alive became more and more of a priority. Price was at the top, him and Laswell. They pulled the strings, backed him up, sent him to places where he could hunt freely. Soap did none of that and yet --
Why are you so important?
After the mage put that spell on him, after the idiot got himself captured by running off to play hero, Ghost couldn't deny it anymore. Soap was special. But why? Humans were food, had always been food. They were the reason his kind fought so hard to keep the mortal plane as their domain, fought to hard to prevent them from progressing enough where they couldn't freely hunt them anymore. The opportunity to kill them became few and fewer, Ghost having to hide himself in their flesh to walk amongst them and keep hunting.
He defied logic to be here.
Why did it feel like Soap was waiting here? He wasn't, he never was. He could've gone his entire mortal life without needing to meet Ghost. Why would a sheep seek out the wolf? He was playing with his food, that's what this was. A new game to play --
No. This is not a game. This is real. Johnny is real.
Not just a human, he couldn't think that anymore. The worry he had over the man being unconscious, the relief he felt when he woke up. And the feeling he had when Soap's fingers were in his hair? Ghost never felt that before, this wasn't an emotion he had ever felt in his long life.
But Simon Riley? Deep in the memories he claimed as his own, such feelings were there. A skipped heartbeat, fidgeting hands -- Ghost was infatuated with a human. A human. Prey. It was wrong in every sense and yet... Ghost was never one to do what his peers did. As strange as this was it wasn't off brand.
"You worried over him for days and now he's awake you're avoiding him?"
Ghost didn't look at Runt as he walked into his office so boldly like no other, watching his elder brother carefully. Here, Price thought he knew Ghost the best. For the longest time he was the one who understood Ghost in a way no one else could. But there was no one who truly knew Ghost as well as Runt.
None bothered him when he was in his office. The door was closed and if anyone knocked he would tell them to fuck off and they would. Runt wasn't just anyone and Ghost didn't scare him, and Ghost couldn't only blame himself for Runt's lack of sensible fear.
Ghost turned his chair away when Runt tried to get in his field of vision, the younger brother scoffing.
"Self reflection fucking with you that much? Don't like what you're seeing?"
Ghost huffed, "I've seen plenty to know that I'm royally fucked."
Runt was quiet, too quiet, and when Ghost turned to make sure he was still there he found the beast grinning, teeth on display and pure, mischievous delight in his eyes. Ghost groaned and looked away again, he said exactly what Runt wanted to hear.
"Oh- Oh-"
"Shut up."
"No no- We're not moving on just yet."
Runt jumped Ghost's desk and grabbed his chair, swinging him around until they're face to face. Ghost pushed hard against Runt's chest, throwing him to the floor so he could stand. Runt quickly scrambled to his feet, still grinning madly.
"You like him!"
"No I fucking don't."
"Oh yes you do! You could've killed him ages ago when he started getting too close, or when he saw what you really were. But ya didn't!"
Ghost snarls and Runt starts laughing. He wasn't afraid, Ghost wasn't going to hurt him. But Ghost wasn't hurting him by grabbing him by the shoulders and repeatedly telling him to 'shut up'. It just added to Runt's joy and his laughter only grew quiet when there was the sounds of someone moving outside Ghost's, some ways down the hall. Both of them grew quiet as they could hear a nervous heartbeat and then a knock on Ghost's door.
"Lieutenant Riley? May I come in?"
Jamison.
Ghost shoves away Runt and straightens himself out, and Runt deciding to steal his chair while he's doing so. Ghost glares at him before he walks around the desk.
"Come in."
The woman stepped in, visually calm but her heart said otherwise. Ghost looked at her quizzically, "What is it?"
"The Captain wants to speak with you and-," her gaze goes to Runt who was watching her with black eyes, shamelessly eying her like he was thinking about having a bite. Jamison cleared her throat and looked back into Ghost's eyes, "You and your brother, in his office."
"Couldn't call me for that?"
"No, sir."
Ghost thinks for a second before nodding, "We'll be there. Dismissed, soldier."
Jamison nods before eagerly leaving. Ghost wondered if Runt made her uncomfortable, he sure wasn't trying to be friendly. Ghost had noticed his brother rather enjoyed giving the humans on base a fright. It wasn't like he was used to be able to intimidate someone.
"That man likes to think he has a leash on you."
Ghost snorts, "Oh, he knows he doesn't. Just likes to put on the show for everyone else."
Runt laughs and Ghost turns to him. In a instant he was behind the desk grabbing him, "Get your boots off my desk!"
Runt yelps when Ghost yanks him off the desk by his leg, dragging him out of the chair in the process. He landed on the floor with a heavy thud, blinking up at the ceiling before he looked to Ghost. Ghost drops his leg and moves around the desk.
"This place has changed you. A lot."
"Adapt or die, brother."
Runt gets off the floor, eying Ghost almost like he was looking at him in a different perspective.
"… guess I’ll follow your lead then."
Ghost can’t help the fondness he feels for Runt.
"Then follow away."
_
"What is that?"
Price had been waiting for them, and he had a crate with him. Ghost looked at the crate with caution and curiosity, looking to Price who just motioned to the crate. Runt was the one to step forward to investigate. When he pulled out what looked like smoothie pouches Ghost turned to Price with narrowed eyes.
"Your rations for the unforeseeable future."
Ghost grunted, Price staring hard at him. Runt chose to investigate the pouches, standing with one in hand. He twisted the top off, popping the seal and giving it a cautious sniff. When his face twisted with mild disgust Ghost groaned. Runt held the pouch away, processing the smell. And it was indeed a strong smell, something Ghost could only describe as a blended mixture of animal byproduct.
Ghost glared at Price, "It smells horrible."
"You eat animals! I know so, Farah-"
"Farah told you? Why not fucking ask me about what we eat?"
Price makes a face, forming the sentence visibly before he spoke, "I needed an answer quick to get this arranged and you weren't exactly available at the moment."
Ghost wordlessly motions to Runt who was still visibly offended by the food pouch, Price rolling his eyes with a scoff. Runt wasn’t paying attention enough to be offended, focused on the pouch. Finally he gets brave and takes a sip, the face he makes as a result not convincing Ghost to try one any time soon.
”This- John look at me- This is like you giving me an unseasoned, freezer burned hamburger patty when I’ve been eating T-bone steak.”
“You’ll have to deal with it not meeting your standards. If I find one soldier missing, hear about any people disappearing in town-“
Ghost met Price’s gaze, “We’ll behave. Eat our kibble like good boys.”
"Ghost this is literally dog food. He's feeding us dog food. I just got here a week ago and I'm eating dog food."
Ghost turns to Runt to silence him but Price stops him.
"There is an exception. You may partake to a... snack while in the field. Out of sight."
Runt glares, "Have to work for our food?"
"You have the rations, and sometimes you can have a treat."
Ghost could tell Runt wasn't happy. He was attempting a neutral expression, being careful to not grip the pouch too tight and make a mess. Price was rather stone faced, calm, in control. Runt wasn't the strongest back home, but a human still didn't compare and Price angering Runt could end poorly. Not that Ghost would allow it. This was a cushioned life and Price was in control. Maybe that's why he was unbothered by Runt's displeasure, he trusted Ghost to keep him in line.
'Trust'... does he trust me?
Ghost turned his head when he heard someone coming down the hall in heavy boots. Many have been passing by Price's office but these heavy footsteps were familiar and the smell of a particular cologne confirmed that ghost recognized who was approaching. He looked back to Price with a grunt.
"Nik's 'bout to interrupt any peace you've had today."
Price blinks, confused, until he hears a knock on the door.
"John? I need a word."
Price looks to Ghost, honestly shocked, "How-?"
"Good hearing... and smell."
"Right... noted."
Ghost was amused as Price chased him and Runt out to have a talk with Nikolai, he had no doubt the man was going to at least ask Farah what all she knew about the mortifer. Ghost picked up the crate of rations, giving one last glare to Price before he headed out the door, greeting Nikolai as he passed with Runt in tow. The man gave them a nod, heartbeat calm and expression relaxed. The man never was on edge around Ghost, always acted like he was in control and exactly where he wanted to be.
Runt noticed Nik's overwhelming calmness, having been used to the few days of nearly everyone around him being on edge. He doesn't say anything, about it, still holding the pouch he had opened with distain.
"So, him saying I get treats for work means I can head out with you?"
Ghost shrugs, "Maybe. If you can keep up."
Runt scoffs and Ghost chuckles, "I'm faster than you and you know that."
"Maybe back home. But here? In that body? We have yet to see."
A clear challenge and Runt clearly was eager to accept it. Ghost wondered how Price would feel if Runt and him let loose, tested the limits to their stolen, mutated human bodies. He saw nothing off with it, it would be good to finally push his limitations. With what happened back in Strasbourg, he felt the need to be in tip top shape. He refused to let some mere vampire catch him off guard.
Ghost stopped and gave (shoved) the crate into Runt's arms before he continued on.
"Go take that to my room."
Runt glared at the command, "Am I getting my own room or are we sharing a bed?"
Ghost went to reply but the wicked grin that quickly that took over Runt's face made him hesitate a second too long to be able to speak.
"Or you could just go bunk with Soap and I can have your room," Runt purred, sounding quite pleased with himself.
Ghost said nothing, just quickly kicked the back of Runt's knee before he continued on, ignoring Runt's yelp as he stumbled.
"Rude!"
Ghost walked on, ignoring the feeling in his chest as he did. He only stopped when he noticed a familiar scent. Soap. Without thinking he followed the smell, his feet leading him outside. He saw Soap walking with Farah, leaving. Ghost felt relief that he was up and about, and some guilt for not having returned to see him since that brief interaction in medical. He waited for hours until he woke up and left so soon after he did.
I should've stayed... not ran like a coward.
These emotions were new, unfamiliar. As he watched Soap and Farah from a distance his heart danced with uncertainty and his head drowned with too many thoughts. How was he supposed to figure things out in this foreign territory? The years he spent disguised as a human and yet everything that was considered human was still so strange and unrecognizable to him. Nothing made sense anymore and there was one man to blame.
More Posts from R005ter and Others
Duke, you precious man 😌
Duke can see a few moments into the future but will deliver it in the most needlessly cryptic way
Jason and Bruce are arguing. Just before Jason storms off, Duke says, "If you walk out that door, you will experience unforeseeable pain and have no one but yourself to blame"
And Jason's all, "Stay out of this, Narrows"
Then he trips over his shoelace and Duke's like, "Told you so"
Do you have any good irondad fics that aren't just fieldtrip to stark tower (I do love them but there is a 99.9 percent chance I will have already read it)
Oh boy do I have any good irondad fics without the field trip trope?? OF COURSE I DO !!!! the field trip trope lowkey isnt that large amount of the irondad fics, and its even less of a big amount of the WELL WRITTEN irondad fics. only a few field trip fics are good. but anwyay. here are my 6 recs (keep in mind some of these might be hella angsty, bc im a BIG ANGST READER): Expirement!Peter Parker & coparenting with May
Shameless Inspired Fic & Bad May Parker
Skip Wescott & Foster Kid! Peter
Emancipated Peter Parker & Chaos
MJ/Peter & Identity Shenanigans
Heroin Addict! Peter & found family
let me know how many of these you've already read <3
Ouch. This hurts a bit 🥲👍
"Why'd the soldier run into the demo site before it went down?"
Soap sighed, throwing a long suffering glance to his Lieutenant. He shifted his grip on his rifle. He could pretend he didn't hear the man but... either morbid curiosity or masochism won out. He wasn't sure which. "Why?"
"To C-4 himself."
"Awful."
"More?"
"As if you'd stop if I said 'no'." Years of practice kept a smile off his face. In all the time Soap had known Ghost, the man's sense of humor had remained steadfastly terrible.
Their unit advanced. Ghost and Soap were in the lead, spread far enough to need comms to talk, but close enough to signal one another if need be. Their men fanned out behind them.
"You hear 'bout the microwave incident on base?" Ghost's voice had taken on an ethereal quality.
Glancing over again, Soap spared a moment to admire the other man's silhouette against the muted orange glow filtering through the trees. He deftly stepped over branches and around trees. Rifle at the ready. Always ready.
Soap had missed this. Missed him. Missed them.
Soap hadn't blown up a microwave for fun in much too long. He hadn't had time, too desperate to fix things. Things were fixed. He'd need to change that when they got back. "Go on."
"Lost two kernels in a popcorn explosion."
"Tragic. Your jokes are painful, Lt."
"I'm just warming up."
Good. "That's a worrying statement."
"'Fraid of a good time, Johnny?"
"Afraid your jokes'll be the death of me."
"You could only hope so."
Trees and branches created illusory enemies as the trudged through the wood, but their trained eyes and steel nerves kept their small platoon from panicking. Sure-footed, they kept searching.
Soap offered one of his own. "What do you call an officer who spends too much time at the head?"
"What?"
"A loo-tenant."
"Not bad." A pause, Soap had just begun to soak in the praise when Ghost continued. "Not good either."
"Fucker. Yours're no better."
"I'm much better."
You are. "Keep telling yourself that."
"Why's there no winning a war with zombies?"
"Ghost." Soap's warning fired off nearly unbidden. He didn't like where this joke was headed. Behind him he heard one of his men misstep, a twig snapping. Perhaps the cause of his warning had been mistaken.
"Cause it's dead even."
"No. Too topical, Ghost. Don't like that one."
Minute crackling from the smoldering world around them filled the uncomfortable silence that followed his outburst.
"Lighten up, Johnny." Easy for him to say.
"I'll try, Sir."
"Heard the Navy is the most religious military branch. 'Parently they love a good warship."
***
Why did they have to use comms? Why did they have to keep that thing around?
The Sergeant was a freak, but at least he was still human. Still alive.
"Hnnnnnnggggrrrrrrraaaaahh." The fucking monster that had once been their Lieutenant moaned, scratchy and split. It traveled through the smoke unnaturally, fraying the nerves of the men it led.
"Go on."
"Rrrrrah arrrrrrrrnnnnnn."
"Tragic. Your jokes are painful, Lt."
It still moved like a man, from a distance you'd never know.
But the sounds. Why did they keep it? It was one of them.
"Eyuhm. Mruuuuaaammm."
"That's a worrying statement."
Why the hell did the fucking thing moan into comms? Why did the Sergeant respond like it was talking? Why did they all have to pretend they weren't being led to their deaths by a fucking Zombie and a mutant who'd lost his mind?
"No. Too topical, Ghost. Don't like that one."
MacTavish's snap quieted the monster for a moment. Holy shit he could breath again.
"Ahhmff. Ohnneeee."
"I'll try, Sir."
The beast began to moan again, it floated back to them, broken bloodied nails against his nerves. It crackled through their comms. It was destroying him. "I can't fucking take this anymore!"
Both freaks rounded on him. He leveled his gun at the former Lieutenant.
"Corporal Evans, what the fuck?" Sergeant MacTavish snarled. Green eyes mutely glowing.
"That fucking thing keeps moaning. He's dead, he's one of them! Why are we pretending he isn't?"
The Sergeant was moving before Evans could even blink. Evans fired off a shot but it went wide, nowhere near his target, as the Sergeant laid hands on him.
Green smoke emanated from the mutant, eyes glowing fiercely as he threw Evans into a tree and held him there. Pain in his collar bone and a loud crack told him it had been broken.
The Sergeant barked something at him, but his ears were ringing too loudly and his mind was clouded. He must've hit his head against the tree.
***
"Heard a shot, boys. Report."
"Evans lost his damn mind and took a shot at Ghost." Soap spat. He was ready to rip the Corporal limb from limb, the traitor would deserve it.
"He hit?"
A hand landed on his shoulder. A bloodied skeleton print glove, missing the ring finger and revealing grayed flesh and blood caked under the nail.
Toxic green met milky white. Ghost's eyes still conveyed such intense emotions. He was worried about the shot and yelling giving away their position. He was feigning indifference to being targeted. He was angry about Soap losing his head.
"Ohnee. Rauhghh." Ghost's voice echoed within Soaps mind as well. 'Johnny. Cool it.'
"Ghost's fine. Shot missed."
"Hhhnnnnaowww."
Soap rolled his eyes and dutifully translated for the others. "Apparently I just broke Evans's collar bone."
Price grunted before ordering. "Right. Bring him back in one piece, he'll be dealt with later."
Two of the others had stepped up. Zip-cuffs and duct tape in hand. There'd be no more outbursts from Evans, then.
"He probably got heated because you're not translating for us, Soap. I'm missin' his comedy gold." Gaz piped up.
Ghosts exposed mouth was one of the benefits to his condition, he refused to use a different mask since the incident. His slack, broken jaw didn't stop him from smiling.
"Hnnh hnnhh huaaaaaarrrrrnnnnnghuhh."
Soap closed his eyes and centered himself. Things had been so touch and go for so long. Theyd kept Ghost caged because they didn't know they could still trust him. No one could hear him. When The Director had offered to change that, in exchange for Soap participating in a few experiments, he'd jumped on it. Hearing the man in his own mind now, he could never regret it. Even if the damn respirator on his face could never be removed.
" 'Picasso used to drive a tank. Was known for art-illery.' Sure you want me to keep translating?"
"Terrible, Sir."
"Fucking hell, Simon, that was bad."
A few of the men around them laughed or chuckled. None would look either officer in the eye though.
"I was trying to save you all." Soap said before taking his position back up and letting his men handle Evans.
They resumed their advance through the smoldering wood.
“Gatorbutt” imagine incorporating this old slang with his current one 🤣
I swear there was a post somewhere saying the same thing. Something along the lines of combining “golly” and “fucking.”
This is extra funny when you remember the narration boxes are Dick's voice message to Bruce. He actually said this to Bruce after Jason became Robin.
Something about this line always hits me.
"Being Robin gives me Magic."
Idk how to explain it but the general gist of a street kid who has seen the worst of humanity,finding magic in fighting crime.
ROACHHHHHH MY BELOVED 🪳🧎♀️
One off page of Roach. He’s a girlypop hunter to Ghost’s edgy
Also a very chaotic arc hunter
dindjarindiaries reminded us all that this is the 4th anniversary of the second season premiere of The Mandolorian ... an inspiration to me!
Betrayed and left for dead, Din Djarin works to recover on an isolated moon at the edge of wild space. But all is not as it seems in his new world—nor with the compelling and enigmatic healer who befriends him and Grogu. Living on Battai brings multiple challenges … and unforeseen pleasures.
His own doubts and desires are proving to be Din Djarin's greatest adversaries yet.
Meanwhile, on planets scattered through the Outer Rim, ancient prophesy, ambition, and conspiracy are at work in the shadows.
When new mysteries and old enemies threaten the moon of Battai, the Mandalorian's previous existence reclaims him. Din Djarin must take to the stars and reforge alliances to track down his would-be assassin—and protect the beings he loves more than life, even more than the Creed.
😍😍😍
people don't talk enough about how fucking funny it is that bruce can sub in his kids as batman when he's too busy. like can you imagine it from the league's perspective? imagine you have this really mysterious, geniusly scary guy that you know next to nothing about, never cracks a smile and yet always comes out on top, and one day he shows up to a league meeting and there's just something... off. about him.
you can't pin it down because he's literally acting exactly the same as usual and there's no reason to think there's anything wrong, but maybe he shifted in his seat one to many times, or he looked just a tad bit too bored during green lantern's case review, but something's just... odd. so you quietly ask superman after the meeting if anything's up with the bat bcs you know those two are closer and also clark can hear heartbeats so if something's wrong surely he'll pick it up? and without hesitation he leans over to you and mumbles 'yeah batman was busy, that's his 17 yr old son. he's a crime lord and kills people sometimes though so we're not allowed to let him into the weapons department.' and then walks away like it's normal.
like the whiplash the league must go through every time they realise that no, this is not their fearless dark and brooding leader, this is in fact one of his dipshit kids being forced to sub in bcs the real batman broke an ankle, is incredible.
wonder woman: so that's my proposed plan, what are your thoughts batman?
batman: hn. i think that- *voice raising two octaves* oh shit hold on my phones buzzing
the league:
batman, answering the phone and immediately dropping the Bat Posture™: what do you mean- aw come on little wing that's not fair! but- no, NO DON'T YOU DARE TELL ALFRED I'LL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU- IM SORRY OK I'LL BUY YOU MORE- *catches sight of the league watching him, baffled* *stiffens* ok listen i promise to replace them but i gotta go, please show me mercy iloveyoubye *hangs up*
the league:
batman:
batman: *coughs awkwardly*
superman: *sighs*
batman, to superman: ...red hood found out i ate his chocolate pretzels-
superman, shaking his head: just... just stop.
the flash: so this isn't batman either, is it?
wonder woman: if this one's also a criminal im losing my mind.
superman, tiredly: no no, this one isn't a criminal. this one's actually a cop.
batman: *sinks down in his seat* b's gonna kill me
green lantern, mystified: where does he keep GETTING you all from!?
'batman' dick, who made a pact with jason to Always Fuck With Bruce Whenever The Opportunity Arises: batman is a whore.
they think they've finally sussed out all 2 of batman's kids and then one day during a meeting 'batman' ends up on a 30 minute rant about different hacking methods this tech villain could be using that results in him half way through a sentence breaking off to say '-oh uncle clark could you pass me that pen- thanks, anyway so-' and then five minutes after that when the league have all been exchanging incredulous looks he finally freezes and is like. SHIT.
wonder woman: you're different from the other two, aren't you?
batman: maybe i am maybe i'm not, you can't prove it.
wonder woman:
green lantern: so like, are you new or have you just managed to avoid sub duty up until now?
superman, coughing: actually, this is this ones ninth occasion of replacing batman. you've just never realised before.
the league:
batman: yeah actually the other two are kinda mad i lasted longer than them...
the flash: how the fuck does he keep getting kids with the exact same build as him!??!?
'batman' tim, spent 20 minutes padding the suit out so he would look the part, still mad that bruce keeps palming WE work off on him: oh he forces us to take steroids for it.
the league, concerned:
superman, pinching the bridge of his nose: now come on red robin-
batman, fully tearing up and looking distraught: PLEASE uncle clark, it HURTS, you can't keep COVERING FOR HIM!
superman, frantically to the league: this one lies.
bonus
the league, squinting at batman:
the league: ...
superman: *head in his hands, too disappointed to do anything*
the league: *silently exchanging looks, wondering if anybody's brave enough to say anything*
duke as batman, fully aware this is fucking stupid but jason and tim fell on the floor laughing when dick came up with the idea and frankly, he wanted to see if anybody would have to guts to call him out: so, are we all ready to start the meeting?
Duke in the back of the Batmobile covered in paint: Do you think different paints have different tastes?
Dick, in passenger seat as oldest rules staring absentmindedly out the window: They do.
Bruce, side eye in the cowl hits different: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?
Edit: now with a fanfic
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