#synthe4u writing

[synthe4u]

The stress was beginning to seep in. Your eyebags becoming more visible by the day. No one could tell you were more tired than the past week.

You were more quiet and less aggressive in your talking. You seem to have lost your spirit in a way, but of course, the man in the mask figured it out.

Ghost eyed you on the other side of the room. You were bobbing your head, nearly falling asleep before being shaken awake by the slight fall of your body.

You were being distracted by the lights and paid no mind to Ghost's wandering eyes.

It wasn't until around 2100 (9:00pm) when he knocked at your door. You weren't asleep yet. Your light was still on.

Opening the door you asked, "Is something wrong?"

You hadn't changed out of uniform and still seemed out of it.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why are you awake?"

You snapped back at him. You weren't in the mood. You've been tolerable all day, no arguments or fights, but it's clear he came to ruin that.

He stared at you in silence. The mask made him more intimidating which caused you to fess up.

You ran your hands through you hair, frowning in disgust at the knots in your hair.

"Just some family problems is all."

"Losing sleep over your family?"

You sighed, "What do you need?"

"Need you to sleep so we could complete this mission."

"I'm not broken, I can still do the mission."

Silence permeated the hall, other than the occasional fizzle from that one light the base swears isn't broken or haunted.

"Can I come in?"

The door widened a foot further, allowing the masked man inside. You didn't understand why you would let him in. You don't let anyone in your room, at least, not for silly matters like this.

He followed you further into your room after shutting the door, and settled on the side of your bed. You didn't have time to question it before you fell.

Collapsing on the spot, Ghost caught you before the ground could do actual damage to your body.

I guess the sleep had caught up to you, just as Ghost had caught you.

Sleep truly is not for the weak. Stay healthy, guys.

.............................................................................................................

masterlist

[whispereons]

Masterlist!

I'm Whispereons and I mainly write yandere Genshin Impact fics. The SAGAU is my long time obsession if it wasn't obvious.

For ease of convenience I will have this masterlist pinned with my works, taglist, and tags used on my blog.

Currently I don't have any rules to abide by. I enjoyed all the comments, reblogs, asks and submissions I received thus far!

Just a warning for anyone new, I advise you to make sure your blog has some form of personalization. Like a profile pic, a sentence saying hello in your bio or even just a single post saying you're human will do. It's to prevent you from getting the report and block combo when I do my spam/porn bot purges.

SAGAU works

Oracle!Reader - with my current editor @serpent-benediction (hopefully) fixing up the older chapters.

Followers Special: 1K

Inazuma:

City - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Sea - Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Liyue:

City - Part 9, Part 10, Wilderness - Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18 City V2 - Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24

(Don't judge my old works too harshly, I really was new at writing!)

Self-aware Genshin Impact Series (incomplete): Warmth, Screen, Team Player, Over This Shit

Oneshots - Another Drink, It's tough to be a God

Normal Yandere Genshin Impact:

Venti/Barbatoes x EOS!Reader: Planned, Protection or Possession?, Control

Tags to use to navigate my posts!

#whisp's amateur work - all of my writing

#sagau oracle au - everything related to my oracle!reader (was implemented late so the first tag is more reliable)

#a whispered response - me answering asks/submissions

#whisp's collection - my personal collection of my fav authors, artists, and anything else. My mindless reblogs aren't tagged with anything to avoid cluttering the tag system.

#peering into the whisp - if I get personal asks, this is the tag I would use

If you regularly sends asks with some way to identify you then I usually give you a tag too.

My taglist for my Oracle!Reader:

If you are in italics, that means I couldn't tag you! That could be due to you being shadow banned or having your settings set to hide you from being searched. I will keep this master list updated with each new user, I truly don't mind tagging you all. It's honestly a nice feeling.

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum

[mudisgranapat]

III. Where the sun doesn't reach

Word count: 3,2 k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley X F!Reader Content: zombie apocalypse, children, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Taglist: @poohkie90 @gaida-511 @synthe4u @beebeechaos Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Note: Sorry it took so long to update, I'll try to be more consistent. This one was hard to write because there is a lot of information i needed to put out there and i wanted to make sure it made sense. if it doesn't, please let me know so i can explain better on the next chapter. Enjoy :)

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There was something alien about seeing life growing in a rotting world. Her soft baby skin was a contrast to everyone around her, who wore their skins dirty, scarred, and calloused. He hadn’t truly noticed the baby at first. He had seen her, because soldiers like him were trained to see everything: a child, around a year old, with dark hair and dark eyes. 

As the Humvee hit a bumpy road, he noticed how her curly brown hair was secured in place by two pink elastic bands, the locks on the pigtails moving side to side. She held a pink stuffed dolphin with her chubby hands and swung her feet, making the pink socks go back and forth. She wore a pink jumper that seemed a number too big and was covered in drawings of pink unicorns and rainbow clouds. In Simon’s opinion, it was an obscene amount of pink. He didn’t know if he was more astounded by the combination or by the fact that it had been put together in the middle of an apocalypse. 

Her eyes were hazel, and they bore into Simon’s skull with innocence he thought he would never see again. Especially in a vehicle like that, made for war and destruction. They sat on the back of it, on the seats that faced each other, like he used to do when going on missions, and ‘odd’ didn’t even begin to describe seeing Cami there. Cami. It felt weird to know her name when all the other boys didn’t. Like it was their secret to share. As if she could read his mind, Cami giggled, somehow not fazed by his mask. He was used to people cowering in front of him, children hiding behind their mothers and peeking at him from behind their legs. The opposite seemed to apply to the baby in front of him, as she grinned showing her scarce teeth. 

“Stop staring at my baby.” He rolls his eyes, redirecting his stare to her with a new layer of hardness. The woman looked like she was in her early twenties, but she spoke with the authority of someone who had lived a dozen lives. Her nose and cheeks were covered in scarce freckles from the sun exposure, and her hair was tied in a ponytail, with loose strands now matted to her face in dried blood. Unlike Cami, she hadn’t escaped the crash unscathed. There was a large gash on her forehead from when she probably hit her face on the steering wheel, now covered in gaze from the medkit. Her lip was split and her nose bleeding. During the crash, the instrument panel from the car had collapsed, causing a gnarly knee injury. “Stop staring at me”. He didn’t. She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, don’t mind Ghost. He does that sometimes.” Johnny said in a joking tone, but lightly kicked Simon’s foot, secretly telling him to quit it. “I think it’s about time we do some proper introductions around here, don’t you think?” She gives him a small smile of approval, moving Cami in her arms. “My name is John McTavish, but you can call me Johnny or Soap, since the old man behind the wheel is also John. We usually call him by his last name, Price. Or Captain, but I feel like that won’t be exactly your vibe” 

“I’m not old, Johnny.” Price says behind the wheel with a sigh. 

“Sure, Grandpa.” Soap retorts, and Price lets another defeated sigh, focusing back on the road. Y/N laughs, and Cami laughs too, even though she has no idea what she is laughing at. 

“I’m Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz. We still use our callsigns from when we served together.” He explains, poking his tongue out at Cami and making her laugh even more. This time, she even claps, letting her pink dolphin fall to the floor. She immediately frowns. Not even the car crash had been able to separate her from the toy, her little hands crushing it as she cried in the backseat, and now her face was starting to contort like the crying was going to start again. 

Simon reaches out to it at the same time Y/N does, but grabs it first due to his longer arms. “Ghost.” He introduces himself shortly, looking her in the eye. Neither of them breaks eye contact until Cami stretches her hands out towards the toy. 

“Dodo!” she screams, shaking a demanding hand in front of Simon. He’s taken aback by the sound of her voice, not expecting her to be able to talk. He hands her the dolphin and she gives him a big smile. He smiles behind the mask in return, a secret infatuation that he buries under the skull. He notices her gaze on him now, studying his reaction, and he has the urge to say ‘Stop staring at me’.

“Kamila is just learning how to talk”. At the mention of her name, she turns her head to Y/N, and shows her the stuffed animal with excitement. Kami wasn’t the only one to hang onto her personal belongings; Y/N had managed to grab a backpack she had taken with her from the house. “She is a bit shy, but once she gets used to you she can be quite the talker, although most of it is in her own language.” 

“It’s a beautiful name. Suits her well.” Soap says, smiling at them. 

“It’s Arabic, spelled with a K. Means ‘perfect’.” She kisses Kami on her nose. “What about ‘Soap’? What does it mean?”

“Let’s just say I’m pretty good at what I do. Clean with it.” He says with a smug grin on his face. “What about you? Any nicknames?”

“Well, there was a crackhead near my house that used to call me ‘strawberry’, because I liked to wear red lipstick. Until one day I got hit by a bicycle in front of him so he changed it to ‘smoothie’, since ‘I got mushed’.” She says using air quotes. 

Soap and Gaz burst out in laughter and Simon snorts, holding in his laugh out of ego. Price is too focused on the radio with Laswell to listen, probably debriefing her about what happened and the new addition to the group. “Peaceful neighborhood, I see”. Gaz tries to recompose, while the Scot is still doubled over, slapping his own knee. “Whereabouts did you live?”

“At that time, Liverpool, but I moved around a lot. My mother was a Journalist.” Her voice sounded distant at the last part. For most people, it was hard to talk about the past. They had lives that were worth living and never thought that they would have to watch it slip through their fingers. In that sense, being a soldier made things easier. They were always ready to pack their lives into one bag, and most of them had made peace with the thought that they might not come home whenever they stepped foot on the tarmac. Others, like Simon, didn’t have a home to come back to and found solace in the nomad nature of the profession. She coughs in an attempt to clear her voice and continues. “I followed in her footsteps, so that’s how I ended up here. I was investigating a corruption scandal in the Government.” 

“Always chasing a story. Is that how you got in trouble with the Resistance?” Gaz was good at getting information out of people. Like Price, he had a trusting face and a calming voice that quickly tore down people’s walls. 

Although Y/N had been previously reluctant to share information about her past, she knew that she didn’t have a choice now. They had saved her life and jumped into the crossfire to rescue her and Kami. She owed them answers. Taking a deep breath and rearranging Kamila in her arms, she starts talking. “When the first people got infected, I got curious. The story I had been writing had come to a halt after my main source stopped cooperating with the investigation, so I had been looking for a break. The virus seemed unrelated at first, but interesting enough to write a story about. So I started digging and came across some familiar names. The people I had been investigating for corruption had been dislocating funds from the Government for an unsanctioned project on biological weapons.”

The Humvee was quiet, except for the sound of the engine and Y/N’s voice. She looked at Kami again, now fast asleep in her arms. There was a softness in her eyes that Simon yearned for in his darkest thoughts. He dreamed of caring eyes that pulled him out of his nightmares, only to wake up alone, drenched in sweat. During nights like that, he would pour a glass of moonshine and sit on the old kitchen chair in the base. Time would pass as he stared at the glass, each second increasing the burning in his lungs. He ached to scream, to punch, to tackle the thoughts that tormented him and sink a knife in its gut. But he couldn’t, so he would just sit and stare at the alcohol-filled glass, imagining the liquid burning down his throat and numbing the ache in his chest. He would then get up and empty the glass on the sink, because the only thing he could hate more than himself was his father. He relished watching the moonshine go down the drain, a small victory in his demise, a promise that he would never become the man who buries his sorrow with glasses of booze. 

“I found a guy willing to talk to me. His name was Eric Rhodes, a brilliant scientist. He had been working on the project but got fired for asking the wrong questions. He thought that the virus he had been working on before he got sacked was the same one that was turning people into… Well, zombies. I guess that’s the technical term for it. At first, I thought it was just some conspiracy theory, you know? The guy gets angry because he got fired and needs to find someone to blame. But then he showed me solid leads, names, and notes he had been able to keep, detailing what he was doing in the lab.” 

“Did you believe in him?” Price asks from the front, now engaged in the story. Laswell had the same theory, that the apocalypse was a result of a biological weapon gone wrong, but hadn’t been able to prove it. Not that it would change a thing: they were already doomed, and whoever was to blame was probably dead by now.

“I didn’t, in the beginning. But after he showed me the documents… Yeah, I did. He stopped talking to me after that. I figured he got scared that I was going to rat him out. The virus was spiraling out of control by then, so I decided to reach out to him while the phones still worked.” She pauses, looking at Kami again as if to check that she is still safe in her arms. “His younger brother, Killian, picked up the phone. Told me they had sent someone to kill Eric, burn his house down with all the evidence. He said Eric had told him about me and asked for us to meet. He wanted to know more about the reason his brother was killed.”

“Killian Rhodes. That’s the guy who started the Resistance.” Simon points out in a low voice. He knows his tone is suggestive, that she is way deeper into this than they had previously thought. The silence is palpable in the atmosphere by that point. 

“Yes. He did. It wasn’t all bad in the beginning.” Simon scoffs and leans back on his seat. Her voice is more pleading now, trying to resonate with them. “Killian wanted to avenge his brother. I told him about the virus, and how Eric thought it was a biological weapon built by the Government. It was never meant to turn into this, I know it’s not what he wanted.” 

“You’re defending him? He tried to kill you. He sent people out to kill you and your kid!” Soap shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Killian died protecting me and our daughter!” Her eyes were glossy, but she refused to cry. She was determined not to show any weakness. “Don’t you dare try and blame this on him.” Her tone was angry and bitter. It wakes up Kami, and she tries to put her back to sleep, but to no avail. 

“Mommy sad?”

“No, mommy is fine, love. Go back to sleep.” But she doesn’t, alarmed now, looking at her mom with worried eyes. Gaz, Soap, and Simon also look at her, surprised by the revelation that Killian Rhodes is Kamila’s father. But she doesn’t give them time to digest the new information. “We made it to the first quarantine zone together, when things started to get bad. Killian had always been good at convincing people, talking about how the government was dirty and that they were better off on their own. With the rations and the way the soldiers were treating people, it didn’t take long before an insurgence was formed. We took them over and that’s when we started the Resistance.”

We. Simon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He wanted to laugh and say ‘I told you so’ to Johnny, but the disbelief on the Seargent’s face was satisfying enough for him. If they thought they were helping an innocent girl, they were wrong. They were harboring the founder of the most prominent and deadly rebellion created in the apocalypse. Not that they were sophisticated criminals before, but they had caused enough trouble to get their reputation: either you were with them, or against them. And now they seemed to be more keen on that policy than ever. 

Price stops the car, looking at the backseats through the rearview mirror. “You have a lot of explaining to do.” Simon recognized that tone, and it meant that whoever it was directed to was in deep shit. 

She huffs. “I never asked for you to take me in. In fact, if I remember correctly, I was dragged here.” She gives Simon a pointed look, that aggravates him even more. 

“Then leave.” Simon stares her down. “But you won’t, will you? You know you don’t stand a chance against them on your own, so start talking.” His voice is low and threatening. He doesn’t look at Kami when he speaks. He knows his voice would falter. 

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, looking at the ceiling, trying to find shelter from the prying eyes that stare at her. “People started coming in from other quarantine zones, escaping totalitarian groups and ill-intended people. Other communities began to rise, but they weren’t as strong as we were. They wanted to weaken the Resistance so they spread word that Killian’s brother, Eric, was the one that created the virus. It drove him crazy. His brother had died trying to find the truth and now people were blaming him, trying to use his brother to taint his name. We were forced to step down and give up everything we had built. There was too much invested in the Resistance, too many people with too much to lose. Leadership changed, and we had to sit back and watch as what we stood for was deprived of its meaning. We just wanted to help people. We thought we could stop what would come next but we were wrong.”

“You killed people before that.” John said in a stern voice. 

“That was different. We didn’t start battles, we were forced into them. You can’t blame us for fighting back. There is no revolution without war.” She shifts Kamila in her arms again. “For fuck’s sake, you were in the army. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you haven’t done worse.” She says the last sentence looking directly at Simon. This time, he looks away. He knows he has done worse, much worse. For some reason, the fact that she would assume that of him hurts. 

“You did more than fight back. We’ve heard about what the Resistance has done.” Simon wants to hurt her back, remind her that no one gets to be innocent their whole life. 

“That was after Killian and I were forced to step down. We didn’t know what was going on. We thought that the foundation that we had built would be strong enough to last after we were gone, but things changed completely”

“Look, lass. We want to believe you. We really do. But you have to be honest with us.” Sometimes Simon wants to grab Johnny by the shoulders and shake him, so he would stop being so trusting, so willing. But it is also the reason why they became friends in the first place. Soap never judged him, as broken as he was. Whether he was Simon or Ghost, Soap would crack jokes and share a pint, and for that he was grateful.

“When we were forced to leave the leadership, Lawrence took over. He was ruthless and thought that the Resistance should be more than a safe harbor for people. Those are the stories you have heard, of civilians killing each other for no reason. We didn’t know how bad it was for the people outside, how Lawrence had been looking for groups and attacking them, forcing them to join the Resistance or killing them. He had no purpose, no direction, he just wanted power and he kept us blind to it all.”

“I’ve heard of Lawrence. He was killed.” Price’s voice still carries a somber tone. 

“I left right after that. He had been talking about how they were finally going to rise to their full potential, about how the Resistance was going to control what was left of the world. He was delusional, talking about how they were going to have enough firepower to kill whoever stood in their way. Killian and I knew we needed to leave by then, that the principles we had stood for were long gone and now the Resistance was just a power-thirsty militia. We only understood how serious things were when the military group arrived. They killed Lawrence and took control of what was left. Killian sacrificed his life so I could run away with Kami.”

“But why are they after you and Kami?” Price pressed further. “Why would a military group want to kill two civilians?”

“Because I’m the only one who knows their identity and their plans. I ran away with documents that could compromise them, photos and names of who operates the Resistance now.” She gestures towards the backpack that she had salvaged from the crash. 

“Why would they take over the Resistance but want to hide their identity? That makes no sense” Simon inquires, still skeptical of the story.

“Because they like to operate in the dark. That’s why they call themselves The Shadow Company.”

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me writing that plot twist: 🤭😝🤓

[synthe4u]

masterlist

A wave of nausea hit you, sending you reeling back from your papers. You grasped your stomach, willing the pain to go away. There was a deadline set for this work and of course you being you had to wait last minute to finish.

You glimpsed at the time, 1:03am, the paper was due at 6:00am and you were hoping to get some sleep before then.

A knock sounded before the door opened, "Hey love, you okay?"

It was your husband, John. You had forgotten he came back from a mission two days ago. You've just been too busy with work.

"I'm alright."

"You sure?"

He raised an eyebrow at you. Maybe it was the way you were hunched over or the papers scrawled all over the office desk. Or the time...Time.

You had to finish this paper now. For both your mental and physical well-being, but none of it was making any sense.

The words started to jumble on the pages.

You didn't know when, but John came back with a plated sandwich.

"It's not much, but you haven't any yet."

You mumbled a thanks before going back to writing. Your lover watched over you, waiting for you to pick up and eat the sandwich he made.

"Gonna eat, love?"

"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, too focused on thinking of what to write. So focused that you didn't realize when John started tapping his arm in impatience.

It was only when he stood right behind you with his hand on your wrist, pulling your arm away from what needed to be done.

"You need some sleep."

"But I have to finish this!"

He grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the desk and chair. You wouldn't fight him. You didn't have the strength to do so because you were too tired.

He laid both of you down, wrapping an arm around you.

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight," you laid awake with your eyes wide open. Your thoughts were too big for your head and it felt like you needed rest, but you couldn't.

"I didn't eat the sandwich you made me."

"Huh?" He was confused by your statement.

You repeated yourself, "I didn't eat the sandwich you made me."

You could imagine him closing his eyes again while he spoke, "You can eat it in the morning."

A moment passed before he sighed and pulled you closer into his arms. The married couple snuggled together for both warmth, love, and comfort. They understood one another and that was all that mattered between them.

Sometimes moments of comfort like this makes one want to dream.

[synthe4u]

You were still in uniform by 2300 (11 PM), too tired to change. You were going to have to wash laundry in the morning, but you couldn't bear to do anything at the moment.

Being hungry, you decided to go grab a snack. Running into one or two people along the way. Both of them wandering the halls like you were.

When you got to the room, you started searching the cupboards, looking for any types of snacks.

'Crackers!'

You pulled the box of crackers off the shelf, bringing it on to the counter. It seemed to be tea crackers, but crackers nonetheless.

You decided to grab one and try it. If it was good, you'd take it, but if it down right awful, you're gonna busy yourself with committing arson. No one could ever mess up simple crackers, though they were tea crackers. You might also need to pay for the crackers, if the owner found out, so maybe not burn the crackers.

Both the crunch of the crackers and footsteps sounded at the same time. You didn't know someone was watching you eat their crackers while you fixed yourself some tea.

"It's not Oreos."

You jumped and turned to look at the culprit, "What?"

"You don't dip crackers in tea."

"Ghost? Wait- it tastes perfectly fine dipped in tea!"

He scratched his arm for a moment before returning an answer, "Could you be any less loud?'

"Oh, sorry, Ghost. I got scared that I saw a ghost."

He sighed, "Make sure you close the box and put it back," he turned around to face the hallway once more, "please."

"Yes sir," you did a mock salute as you watched him fade in the distance.

Wait...That's weird. Didn't he already die to Shepherd?

You rubbed you eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming, but by time you opened them the masked man was already gone.

Great, you'll have to either see your psychologist or exorcist after this one. They're gonna have a field trip with this one. You might even have a field trip to the big white building.

(Not proofread or edited yet)

uhh so...I made a Part two and Part three

masterlist

[synthe4u]

Part two to this | Part three here

masterlist

Requested by @hani-amerta

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Now you've been seeing him wherever you go. His bloodied mask haunting your dreams.

You had to take an early retirement because of your 'hallucinations'. But even still, no matter what, he follows you.

He would sometimes be behind your shopping cart when you go to grab something. Only turning back to the cart when you're ready to put the item in.

Sometimes you can see his face on other people. You once scared a man after staring at him too long. The stranger had come up to ask if you were okay, but you could only do nothing as you muttered Ghost's name. It really freaked the man out.

Your psychologist said it was a normal reaction after the loss of a comrade, but they've put you on medication. You don't bother to check what kind of medication because you decided it would be best to be crazy and see him instead of being lonely and cold.

He was your friend and hope. He helped you stay in lane and not quit after the third mission you had together. You've been through thick and thin. So it doesn't matter if he's just a hallucination or an actual ghost. You only care that he's with you.

You told your psychologist once, which they proceeded to give you heavier medication. You still didn't take them. After that, you've started to lie.

Lying to both your psychologist and others, but most importantly, you've started lying to yourself.

You started staying indoors more. Making two cups of tea instead of one. Setting two plates out, but only cleaning one. Ghost usually cleans his own dishes.

When your old captain came to visit, it was only then that you realized the stack of moldy plates are a problem. The cups left sitting on the table, taking up to much space is a problem.

"The medicine given to you is supposed to help."

The captain was silent for a moment before continuing, "Have you been taking them?"

You didn't answer him, nor did you divert your eyes away from the couch. Ghost was right there. How could your captain not see him?

Maybe you really were going crazy. Maybe you should start to take your medicine.

But you didn't want to be alone.

Your captain left, once again reminding you to take your medicine.

You didn't feel like swallowing pills any time soon so you decided to just make some tea. Tea was his favorite. Now it was yours.

You couldn't leave him alone. He needed you. You needed Ghost. You wouldn't take your medicine, but you wouldn't go crazy. Though, you were already crazy and couldn't go crazy any more.

Closing your eyes to take a rest, you awoke to find yourself in a hospital.

(Also not edited or proofread)

[synthe4u]

masterlist

A knock sounded through the room.

"Yes?"

"Everything alright in there, love?"

You had been doing your makeup. It was your anniversary after all. It also celebrated him coming back in one piece, other than the slightly burnt and uneven beard he sported. He still wouldn't tell you how it happened.

"Yeah!"

He said something you couldn't quite hear before he opened the door. Walking over to you, he put his arms around your waist.

He kissed your head before murmuring, "Hey love."

You were still doing your makeup and forgot to reply to him. Maybe it was when you took too long to reply that he really took a closer look at what you were doing.

"Really? Mascara? You don't need that."

You remembered how he hadn't known what mascara was at the beginning of your relationship. He always said he called it, "Oil for eyelashes," which he blamed on Laswell. You talked with Laswell about it before and she said she told him that on April Fools. It was a funny moment when you told him when it was called Mascara.

"I do, it's our anniversary!"

"No, you don't," he looked down at his watch, "Love, the dinner is for 8."

"And? It's 7."

"It takes an hour to get there."

"We have time. Just use your secret agency sources and your UFO."

You always joked about his job and if they included UFOs. You didn't exactly know much of what he did, but the UFOs are a funny joke.

He frowned and you noticed. You put the mascara down since you were done.

"Don't frown, you'll get wrinkles faster."

You followed the frown lines that were on his face before they smoothed out into a smile.

He looked at you with such loving eyes that you considered for a moment you didn't need any makeup to feel love from this man.

Though, you still wanted to put on lipstick.

"I'll be ready, right after this."

Right after you put on the final touch, you moved to kiss him which he gladly returned. It was only right after when he looked in the mirror that he realized you rubbed your lipstick off on him.

You giggled at the sight, "Sorry, I guess there was too much lipstick."

(Author's note: Oof, I keep thinking about proper english so I keep thinking of the way official books write which may have messed me up.)

[synthe4u]

You don't remember when you agreed to share a house with your friend, but you sure as hell don't regret it.

Sure, he may be noisy sometimes, but he's a good friend. He also pays his half of the bills on time.

You're usually the cook and he cleans the dishes. He says it's because he's the Soap you need, but you suppose the joke flew over your head.

Speaking of flying, he once threw one of his friends into the window. You're glad you're not renting a place anymore, but now he had to pay for the damage.

You don't remember his friend's name, but you know he is also a coworker of your roommate.

Your roommate, Johnny, is also very active. Whenever he's not doing something else, he's exercising in the small gym you two have in the house.

It might just be why he decided to buy the house, because of the gym.

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[synthe4u]

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"Hey, love, how you doing?"

He moves behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you. You stopped what you were doing and focused on him.

You look back at him for a moment to see his slight eyebags.

He starts to sway you with him left and right, burying his face into your neck. His breath fanned your neck.

"Tired?"

He murmurs something that you didn't understand, but you can only guess that it was a yes. You knew he was tired, he almost always was when he came back from a mission. You used to tell him to get sleep before he comes back home, but he just doesn't listen. Rest is important, but he thinks you are which you sometimes don't understand.

You release a sigh before trying to move towards your bedroom, "Let's go to bed."

Kyle doesn't say anything, but he follows right behind you with his arms still holding you. There was a bit of struggle trying to get to the bedroom because of the position you two were in. Why does this sound sexual-

In the end, he was the little spoon. Not that he would admit to his friends.

(A/N: I told myself i would edit and look for grammar issues before posting but i'm too lazy for that. one day..)

[synthe4u]

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What is love if not him? What is life without him? He is your sole lover and husband. You couldn't abandon him, not here.

Even when he was calling out to you to leave, to run and take cover. You didn't move. You kept pressure on his wound.

He wouldn't die. He couldn't die. You would change your religion for this man. You had ran away and eloped with him against your family's will. You weren't leaving him now.

Not when he was bleeding out in your arms. He was dying. You both knew that.

Your tears flowed as quick as his blood poured. No, he wouldn't die alone, and he wasn't going to be the only one to die.

In life and death.

The end for Ghost. The start for a pair of ghosts.

[synthe4u]

Part three to this | Part two here

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@hani-amerta congratulations!!! you can now choose if there will be a bad or good ending or I can try to continue this as long as you want.

-

You open your eyes only to find yourself looking up at the ceiling.

The beeping sound next to your must've woken you, but what was it?

You tried to move your head, but it felt heavier than usual. In fact, your whole body felt heavy.

You were now facing the direction of what was making the noise, but you couldn't spot what it was.

The sound of footsteps approached your room. The door opened and then there was silence. You couldn't hear anything or see anything anymore.

Why couldn't you open your eyes again?

When you woke up again, there were people talking in the room and your body felt inexplicably lighter than before. Though, your mind felt a bit blurry.

"Cap, they're awake."

"Kyle, go get the nurse."

"On it."

You could hear footsteps leaving and arriving before a man's face appeared in front of you. It was your captain, but he was with other people. Who were they?

"Hey, how're you doing."

You only figured out that your throat was particularly parched when you tried to answer him.

He saw your reaction and reached to hand you the water filled cup that was placed next to where you were laying.

Your captain began speaking again while you were drinking.

"You're currently in the hospital, you took a bullet."

You had already guessed that you were in a hospital, but you just didn't know which one. You also didn't remember taking a hit from a bullet.

You tried to reach to put the cup back where you saw the captain pick it up from, but he grabbed it from your outstretched hands.

You muttered a thanks.

A man opened the door. It was Kyle, a once good friend, who had entered with the nurse.

The nurse came over to your bed and asked how you were feeling. You said your throat was sore. The nurse then wrote something down on your sheet before asking how bad your throat hurt.

"Bad enough where I can still talk, but would prefer not to."

She nodded before excusing herself, presumably getting medicine. You didn't really know.

You were getting ready to close your eyes again to ignore the pain before your captain started speaking again.

"Ghost is in the ER."

You wanted to sit up so fast, but you couldn't. You stared wide-eyed at him, barely muttering out a "what?"

Your heart rate started going up, "He's alive?"

Your captain was looking down so you couldn't see his expression well, "Yeah, he doesn't have that big of a chance though."

The team became silent. They didn't want to tell you in case you would panic, but they knew they had to tell you. Plus, they knew you would appreciate it more if they told you before anything happened to him.

You don't respond. You laid there, thinking about who you've been seeing this entire time. Were you just dreaming you were hallucinating? Is this a dream? Were you in a coma? Was anything you saw real? Is this real?

Panic engulfed you and the next thing you knew the world became black.

(Author note: The writing may be a bit different, but I wanted to get this out today and I also made myself an outline of what to do, which I hate, but I still followed part of the outline. Outlines make me feel constrained to do a certain thing. I also accidentally wrote this between multiple days whereas my previous writings I wrote in one sitting. Sorry this isn't long, but I had to get this out my drafts.)

[synthe4u]

Your back hurt. Maybe it was from the way you hunched over when working on papers, or when you cushioned the cookie jar's fall.

Either ways, your back ached.

You could see it in your husband's body language that he could see something was wrong with you.

"Hey love," he had walked over to you with a cup of tea while you were still lost in thought.

"Oh, thank you," you thanked him absentmindedly. He stared you down for a moment, "You hurt?"

You waved him off, telling him no. It was nothing he should worry about, the pain was probably natural aches anyways.

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[synthe4u]

He didn't talk much, but you could tell from the way he held himself. You met him when Price was introducing everyone on base.

"That one is called Ghost," Price points over to the masked man. Ghost lifts his head to stare back at you, seemingly acknowledging the other two presences in the room.

At first, you didn't know who he was except him being your lieutenant.

"Ghost? How'd you get that name," you questioned him. Silence accompanied Ghost's response and Price had already started leading you elsewhere.

"Better not to know," was the response you got from Price when you asked him instead.

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[synthe4u]

Hey, this is just a little masterlist, I suppose. Usually I tag my writing with my username to make it easier to find the writings I do, since I reblog most the time, but I'm just gonna link my writings here as well.

I mostly write for comfort or if someone asks.

I could change the names for the links since they don't entirely match up with the writing, so you could just ask and I'll do.

(give me time to write something specific for Gaz)

CoD related:

Captain Price:

Stressed Reader

Makeup

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Back From A Mission

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

First Meeting with Ghost

Reader's Back Hurts

What is love if not him?

Bartholomew | Not A Saint

Tired Reader

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Roommates with Soap! Reader

Un-Shipped:

Hallucinating Reader:

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Prison Mission

"Dreams": (None of these are directly connected to one another)

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen

Not related with any fandom:

Woman With A Cigarette

Hurt Wrist

Nonsensical reblog

[synthe4u]

"Hey, Bartholomew."

"Stop calling me that, I'm not a saint."

"Never said you were."

The atmosphere felt tense. You knew Ghost was in a bad mood, but you wanted to know why. He was a somewhat friend of sorts to you.

"So..what's the stick that went in your ass."

You had forgotten how to say the statement entirely. It sounded more of a sexual innuendo than a joke, but then again it technically was a sexual innuendo before a joke. Maybe that's why he looked over at you with a weird face.

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(author's note: the potential i had to keep writing. "I'm not a saint," i could have written so much angst and love with that line, but I failed. I have fallen and can never return back to what i could've been :droopy face:

[synthe4u]

You were shot, bleeding out in a random cell.

Not knowing what would come after or after next, you shut the gate of the cell. Swinging it closed and praying that one of yours would come to find you.

Sadly, no one did.

You couldn't fend for yourself. Not when you have a mortal injury and your gun had jammed. Your hands were too shaky to even try and fix it. You thought this would a simple go and happy mission, but it wasn't. You had packed light without an umbrella when it would be pouring bullets.

The only lucky thing is that you're not dead. Maybe another lucky thing is that there weren't any enemies following you. Maybe another thing is that the skies have turned dark, yet there's still light.

Light from a fire.

The building is on fire. You were in the building still.

Oh, you had to get out, but how?

You had a deathly wound and was unarmed.

I mean, you had a knife, but what good would that be if your enemy had a gun and they spotted you before you spotted them? You would be splayed out on the ground by time you threw the knife.

You just had to wish someone would find you.

And someone did find you, someone you knew.

"Hola, hermano." [Hello, brother.]

"Hola," they came to your side having seen the blood, "Where's the rest of your team?"

"Dunno," you hissed when he touched the hole in your chest.

"Got trouble breathing?"

"Nah."

He asked if you could walk and you said you could try. You both knew you had to get out of here soon if you wanted to have another chance at living.