v4voracity

[v4voracity]

Slater's Guide to Military Terminology and Information

A guide for fanfiction readers and writers in the Call of Duty fandom (from a former competitive COD player herself). AKA a guide of how I write military speak and literally every vaguely military thing I've researched and learned that can be used in a story lol

Note: THIS IS NOT MEANT TO PROMOTE THE MILITARY, VIOLENCE, OR FIREARMS USAGE!!! THIS IS PURELY AN INFORMATIONAL POST FOR CALL OF DUTY ENTHUSIASTS, NEW FANS, AND FANART CREATORS!! USE THIS POST RESPONSIBLY!!

Location Terminology

LZ: Landing Zone, used for aircraft

AO: Area of Operation, where an exercise will take place

Target Area: Area with specific target, such as a person or object

Alpha/Beta/Charlie etc. (Site): Separate locations within the AO delineated by separate names

Movement Callouts

Advancing: Moving Forward

Pushing: Moving forward, often used in writing as quickly moving forward specifically towards an enemy

Strafing: 1. (COD game) moving sideways while continuously facing the same direction [oftentimes while shooting at an enemy] 2. (Real life) Shooting at an enemy from a low-flying aircraft

Retreating/Falling back: Moving away from an enemy, oftentimes because you do not have the ability to fight them any longer

Holding: Staying put in a single place

Cover to Cover: Moving from a position that is concealed from enemy fire to another position concealed by enemy fire

Breaking Away: Splitting off from a group

Pursuing: Following an objective or target

Pinned Down: Unable to move due to an enemy's maneuvers or fire

*EXTRA* Anaconda Maneuver: A reference to a large-scale military maneuver performed in 1861 by the American Union Army in the Civil War, which is simply "We'll take 'em from the front AND the back at the same time!!".....which is really fitting cause its called the Anaconda maneuver lol

Enemy Callouts

"Movement!" - There is someone moving in front of me

"# Tangos" or "# Combatants" or "# Enemies" or "# X-Rays" etc. - There are # number of enemies

"Taking enemy fire!" - I am being shot at by the enemy

"Contact!" - I see the enemy, they see me, we are firing at each other

"Taking heavy fire!" - I am being shot at by the enemy and it's a desperate situation; can also mean that the enemies have armor-piercing weapons

"Visual on enemy/objective/target/hostage" etc - I see the enemy /objective/target/hostage etc

"Taking small-arms fire!" - (Specifically for aircraft) Our aircraft is being shot at by regular sized guns from ground troops

"I have eyes on..." - I can see...

"# Military Aged Males" - Terminology used to describe men who are roughly 18-40 years old. They're usually plain-clothed, but because they fall into the correct age range to be drafted into the military/have military training, they are specifically flagged in case they pose a threat

“# Unknowns” - Used to describe unidentified possible combatants in a place of interest. They do not always mean that that person is a soldier. Sometimes, they can be civilians.

Common Radio Speak

Note: Preceding any radio communication, radio callsigns are often used to identify one's self. Radio callsigns are mad complicated, so I won't explain them specifically, but for more info on their usage, check the "Dialogue Examples" section at the end of this post!

"Please Advise" - Please tell me what I should do in this situation

"Send Traffic" - Tell me what you want to tell me.

"Go for [Callsign]" - I'm here, listening to you

"Repeat your last" - Repeat what you last said

"[Callsign] to Actual" - 'Actual' refers to the commanding officer

"How copy?" - What/how are you doing?

"Negative" - No

"Affirmative" or "Affirm" - Yes

"Copy" - Copy that

"Planting charges" or "Planting mine" or "Planting anchors" - I am planting explosive charges/mine/anchors

"Advancing/pushing to second deck" - I am moving to the second floor

"Jackpot" - We took the object or person we were looking for into custody

"Possible jackpot" - I have possibly found the person or object we came for

"Engaging" - I am going to start fighting the enemy

"3, 2, 1 - Enter! Enter!" or "3, 2, 1 - Breach!" - used when forcefully entering a building or doorway

"All Units" or "All Stations" - Precedes a message that is relevant to all personal on a mission

"Requesting [something]" (ex. backup, air support, recon overhead etc) - I request backup

"Be advised" - Be aware of something

"Check Fire" - Watch where you're firing; this can also mean you've accidentally shot a teammate or civilian

"Standby" - Hold on

“Secure the area” - Make sure there are no enemies in the area/kill all the enemies in the area

“Occupy the area” - forcefully stay in one place, defending it from enemies

Common Miscellaneous Acronyms and Nicknames

PID - Positive Identification

MTC - Mission Time Clock, refers to how much time a team has to complete a mission

RTB - "Returning to Base"

CO - Commanding Officer

NCO - Noncommissioned Officer

FOB - Forward Operating Base

MIA - Missing in Action

KIA - Killed in Action

AWOL - Absent Without Official Leave

EOD - Explosive Ordinance Disposal

IED - Improvised Explosive Device

SERE (Training) - Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape

DMZ - Demilitarized Zone

VIP - Very Important Person, a person one is escorting through a certain area or otherwise protecting

SpecOps - Special Operations

MedEvac - Medical Evacuation

Op - Operation

Infil - Infiltration

Exfil - Exfiltration

Payload - 1. supplies, objects, or weapons that are being delivered somewhere 2. A bomb that is being dropped

Radio and Military Related Slang/Jokes

GOFO - "Grasp Of the Fucking Obvious"

Chest Candy - Ribbons/awards that a soldier earns

Whiskey Foxtrot - Stands for military letters W and F, meaning "What the fuck?"

"Out here" - used on the radio to signal that you've finished talking, usually preceded by a radio callsign

Charlie Foxtrot - Stands for military letters C and F, meaning "clusterfuck"

FUBAR - Fucked beyond all repair

"Got your six" or "Bringing up your six" or "Watch your six" - "I've got your back" or "I'm bringing up the rear" or "watch your back"

Plebe - a new recruit, someone without any experience

Oscar Mike - Stands for the military letters O and M, which is used to mean "We Are On the Move"

Mike-Mike - Stands for millimeter, which is often used to describe the size of grenades (i.e. 40 Mike Mike)

Barrack's Bunny - someone who has sex with many people throughout the barracks

Sandbox/sandpit - slang for a desert area

Chair Force - refers the USA Air Force

Civvies - Means "Civilians" or "Civilian clothing"

Mandatory Fun - company organized events/dinner

"Drop 'em" - drop from a aircraft or kill someone

GRUNT - Stands for "general, replaceable, untrained", refers to low ranking infantrymen

Jarhead - refers exclusively to marines

Flyboy - derogatory term for Air Force members

"Rog'" - Roger that

"Squirters" - people who run out of the back door of a building that is being attacked

"Danger close" - an attack being send from an aircraft that is dangerously close to friendly soldiers

"Watch your shots" - another way of saying "Check your fire"

“Fuckin’ A” - means “Fucking Affirmative”

“Repo Quickly” - (not 100% sure but I think it means) Reposition Quickly

“Rush” / “Bum-Rush” - Move towards someone extremely forcefully and quickly (kind of “rushing” towards them, typically without finesse)

Munitions

Munitions: ammunition, weapons, and equipment used in the field

Tactical Equipment: Equipment used in the field to gain an advantage, but that are not necessarily lethal. Examples include flash grenades, gas grenades, heartbeat sensors, and trip mines.

Lethal Equipment: Equipment used in the field aside from firearms with lethal intent. Examples include, grenades, Semtex (sticky grenades), poisonous gas, Molotovs cocktails, trip mines etc.

Ammunition: Bullets, rounds, shells that are loaded into a firearm. For grenade launchers, the grenades may be called ammunition.

Other Interesting Military Devices

Spotter scopes: binoculars that can have both a regular and thermal setting. They are used to survey an area for enemies. They also show you how far you are standing from the targets (usually in meters).

Anchors: Used to rappel down the sides of cliffs

Field ladders: Used to scale buildings

Sledge hammers: Used to break down doors and plant anchors

Thermite charges: a substance that burns at over 2000 degrees celsius and is used to burn through walls, doors, and locks

Door and wall charges: explosive charges used to explode walls and doors

Electro Magnetic Pulses: disables or interrupts electronic devices and communications

LIDAR: Light detection and ranging. A device that uses lasers to model tunnels underneath the ground. However, it can reflect off of certain circumstances, including snow

Thermal scopes: scopes that detect heat. Fun fact! They have an infinite range, meaning they can detect heat from any distance. However, they cannot see through walls or thick concrete.

Bullet Proof Vests

Note: Many people describe them incorrectly and it physically hurts my heart, so let's break it down.

Types of Wearable Protection

Kevlar Vests: A vest that is made out of Kevlar fabric, which offers protection against handguns and other relatively common arms. THEY ARE NOT FASTENED USING BUCKLES!!!! I see people in fan fiction constantly say "he secured the buckles on his vest" ALL. THE. TIME. Standard issue vests have buckles TO ADJUST THE SIZE, NOT TO PUT IT ON!! THEY ARE SECURED USING VELCRO AROUND THE WAIST! Legit, might be my number 1 pet peeve lol

Flak Jackets: A fabric vest made to withstand explosive casings and shrapnel. THEY DO NOT PROTECT AGAINST BULLETS!

Plate Carriers: A type of vest without protective padding. On their own, they do not provide any protection. However, armor plates must be zipped into the pockets onto the front and back of the vest. These plates are usually made out of steel. They can withstand heavier fire. The plates can be replaced when they break.

Firearms (Long Section Lol)

Basic Terms in Firearm Usage

"Effective Fire Range" - the greatest distance a bullet can be shot from and accurately damage a target. This is important when considering which firearms a character should use in a certain environment. Is their EFR long? Short?

Rechambering (and Rechambering Speed): When reloading, the previous cartridge must be expelled. In bolt action weapons, the bolt must be pulled back. More rounds or another mag will be inserted. Then, either the bolt will be pushed back in, or the charging handle will be pumped, which pushes a new round into the chamber. On a revolver, this comes in the form of the "hammer." On pistols, this is the "slide."

Fire Rate: the frequency a bullet can be shot from the gun

ADS: stands for "Aim Down Sight", which means aiming down the barrel, using iron sights or another type of sight

Hip-fire: Firing a weapon without aiming down sight

Different Fire Types

Fully Automatic vs Semi-Automatic vs Bolt-Action: 1. Fully automatic guns (in simple terms) fire continuously at a high rate until the trigger is released or until the magazine is empty; automatic rifles are usually magazine fed; they expel the bullet cartridges by themselves 2. Semi-Automatic guns fire one bullet each time the trigger is pulled; they expel the bullet carriages by themselves 3. Bolt-Action rifles fire once every time the trigger is pulled; the cartridge must be manually expelled by the user by pulling back the bolt on the side of the gun

Pump-action: Shotguns that use a sliding handguard to rechamber the bullet. Oftentimes, I just call the handguard the "slide"

Select-Fire Rifles: A gun that can be fired on both a "full-auto" and "semi-auto" setting; remember, full-auto = high fire rate while semi-auto is a little slower; the fire rate is switched by flipping a lever on firearm; Assault Rifles, Small Machine Guns, and Light Machine guns are usually select-fire

Types of Firearms

Sidearm: A less powerful gun or other weapon that you carry alongside your main firearm; (Real life) sidearm usually just means pistol; (COD game) sidearms can include pistols, knives, shotguns, and other melee weapons, like batons and tonfas

Shotgun: A type of gun that fires shotgun shells, which are a type of ammunition that contains pellets that spread upon firing. They have a typical range of 35-50m of effectiveness. They are extremely destructive at close range, and can even sever limbs if fired close enough. Their range is limited, however.

Lever Action Rifles: Rifles that are magazine fed, lever action, and with multiple fire rates. Small Machine Guns and Assault Rifles fall into this category. They have a high rate of fire and have a typical range of effectiveness of 150-300m. They fire the same type of bullets as pistols.

Bolt Action Rifles: Rifles that require the user to manually eject the cartridge via pulling back the bolt on (typically) the right side of the gun). They have a slower rate of fire. Sniper rifles and Marksman rifles fall into this category (depending on the model). They have an effective range of about 500-800m. They are very precise, and can often immobilize a target with a single shot.

*EXTRA* Armor Piercing Sniper Rifles (ex. .50 Cal Rifle): Rifles that use armor piercing rounds, which can pierce both vehicle armor and body armor. A single shot will immobilize any target. They can be both bolt action or lever action, with an effective armor piercing range of 200-600m and can be shot up to 2,000m away. These rifles are often large and heavy, with a length of over 4ft long and with over 25 pounds of weight.

Types of Ammunition

Shotgun shells

9mm Parabellum (for handguns and some rifles)

7.62 (for lever action rifles)

5.56 (for lever action rifles)

.50 Cal (for Sniper Rifles only)

There are way more, but I won't list them here

Simple Types of Modifications to Use in Your Story

Sights: A device affixed to the barrel of a gun to allow it to be aimed more accurately. Types of sights include red dot sights, holographic sights, scopes, and thermal optics. Without a sight mod, a gun comes equipped with Iron Sights.

Barrels: In general, the longer the barrel of a gun, the more accurate it becomes. Barrels can be swapped according to the range needed for a certain mission. Two types of barrels are rifled and unrifled, which affect how the bullets travel out of the gun.

Bi-pod: A stand that is affixed to the bottom of a gun (oftentimes a sniper rifle) to allow the user to set it on the ground with the barrel raised.

Types You Should Avoid (WARNING!!)

Sawed-off barrels: Often associated with the Wild West. Yeah, you can't just do that. They will not be used in proper military settings either.

Semi-automatic to Full-auto modifications: Civilians (USA) cannot own full-auto weapons that were manufactured after 1986. You can own rifles made before 1986, but it requires a special license and also costs $20-30k. Modifying a rifle to have a full-auto setting is ILLEGAL.

.50 Cal Modifications: In a non-military setting, you will NOT find armor piercing guns. It is illegal.

Certain Ammo: Dragon's Breath shells, explosive rounds, and Bolo shells are also illegal, and should not be found in civilian OR military settings.

Silencers: If I remember correctly, silencers are illegal for civilians to use in most places.

Facts about Fire Fights

Over 90% of the rounds expended during a fire fight are used for COVER FIRE! Meaning that they aren't necessarily fired for the purpose of hitting the enemy, but rather, allowing the user to move to a different position.

Most people will not just "spray and pray" lever-action rifles. Even with weapons that have a high fire rate, most soldiers will precisely pull the trigger.

Gun kick increases with fire rate, which decreases precision.

As range increases, effectiveness decreases.

Sniper Rifles are used a long distance, often from a prone position.

You wouldn't think it's like this, but the longer the barrel of it is, it's usually easier to shoot (barring marksman and sniper rifles).

Call of Duty Video Game Slang

Camping - sitting in one place without moving, killing enemies as they come to you

Pushing - running into enemy territory

Killstreak - rewards given to the player for killing several enemies in a row without dying

Killcam - the recording of a player's death before they respawn

KD - Kill Death Ratio

"I'm going negative" or "I am negative" - I have a KD below 1, which means I've died more times than I've gotten kills

"I'm going positive" or "I am positive" - I am a KD over 1, which means I've gotten more kills than the amount of time I've died

"I'm carrying" - I have a significantly higher kildcount than everyone else on my team

"I'm throwing" - I'm doing worse than anyone else on my team

"Shotgunner" - a player using a shotgun

"Knife guy" - a person who is only wielding a knife

"He's one shot" - if he gets hit another time, he'll die

"I downed him" or "I knocked him" - he's down and needs to be revived

"I broke him" - he's out of armor plates

Dialogue Examples

"Bravo 0-7 to Watcher 1, taking heavy fire from the East. Requesting air support!"

"Copy, 0-7. Air support inbound on your location"

"Rog.'"

"Bravo 0-7 to Baseplate Actual."

"Baseplate Actual to Bravo 0-7, send traffic."

"Negative on target ID. Holding on first deck. Please advise."

"Copy. Return to entryway. Regroup with Alpha team."

"Copy."

"All units, be advised, there are civilians in the target area. I repeat, there are civilians in the target area. Check your fire."

"Copy."

"Bravo 0-7 to Overlord Actual, I have visual on Target Area. I repeat, I have visual on target area. Three military aged males in the east corner, no visible weapons. Two unknowns in the center of the plaza. Please advise."

"Contact!"

"Copy, all units, weapons free. Fire at will."

"Bravo 0-7, advancing to rooftop. Deploying field ladder."

"Copy."

[v4voracity]

writing the next part of TOO CLOSE and I'm realizing that like very few missions have the full team together and I didn't notice that while playing...

like its majority ghost, soap, shadow company and los vaqueros then its gaz, price, and farah/laswell and I'm kind of sad we don't see more whole team interactions??? OH WELL THATS WHAT WRITINGS FOR and also why i should've replayed the game again before writing the first part lol

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #thoughts #writing

[v4voracity]

I think about the difference between the old cod games and the remakes a lot... this is just an image i found on the web with a quick search but like theres no way they actually looked like that and i was just like "yeah peak gaming" LIKE I SWEAR THE SECOND IMAGE IS WHAT I THOUGHT IT LOOKED LIKE WHEN I PLAYED THE ORIGINAL... I DONT REMEMBER IT BEING SO BAD??? LIKE WHAT???

like price my BOY... the glowup... my man had HUMBLE beginnings

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #john price #captain price #thoughts

[v4voracity]

HALF A HEART MASTERLIST

A master-list of all my posts relating to "HALF A HEART", also known as a COD characters x Poltergeist!reader.

link back to main masterlist

Title inspired by the song "HALF A HEART" - by Ellise.

"You knew that I've got half a heart; The rest of it's sittin' in the graveyard Buried by the lovers who were really undertakers Left me with nothin' but scars And maybe if you gave me part of yours, I'd feel a little better, I could love you for a lifetime But we'd be back at the start— Either way it's half a heart"

Part 1

[v4voracity]

HALF A HEART - COD characters x Poltergeist!reader

POLTERGEIST COD AU

⥇❥"Reader" is a literal ghost, AFAB reader and referred primarily as to as "you", sometimes explicitly referred to as a woman, implied to be British and implied to have died in the 1500s/16th century, though the location isn’t relevant for much other than attempted historical accuracy with her death/why she’s in England. Reader is also not said to be of any skin tone or ethnicity, just that she was *likely* born in England. Reader is from a time when afab people weren't commonly educated and canonically has slight trouble reading and learning after her death since she can't access books or learning materials and had to self-teach herself to read and write after death where she couldn't ask for help, this will probably change though after she meets 141. Said information is slightly relevant to the plot, though I can make an alternate version if people want an amab/gender neutral reader :)

also roach is canonically part of this and has little antenna attachments to his helmet because i said so

  ⥇❥Word Count: 4096, excluding warnings and text above the cut.

⥇❥CONTENT WARNING FOR:

↪ Technically age gap? Reader was born and died long before any cod character ↪ possibly historically inaccurate as i was unfortunately not alive in the 1500s nor most of the following time periods ↪ possibly incorrect depictions of a ‘poltergeist’, as reader is an amalgamation of different types of ghosts/folklore (i mainly just didn't want to use the term ‘ghost’ because it’d be confusing with Ghost the character) ↪ possibly OOC characters ↪ american author writing europeans ↪reader is (basically) rasputin with their death ↪ slight mentions of religion or religious themes (mainly about the afterlife, existence of heaven/hell, and brief mentions of witch trials which were mostly religiously motivated.) ↪graphic description of how reader died (witch trials, so think salem witch trials kind of graphic)

let me know if i missed anything or should edit the content warnings!

Link to main masterlist - Link to HALF A HEART sub-list

You have been warned, scroll at your own risk.

Let’s get things straight. You are, for all intents and purposes, dead.

Deader than a doornail, in-fact, you’ve been dead for almost.. 500 years now? Well, you're rounding slightly but nobody cares for the exact amount of time.

Now, that is a long time to be dead for… Well, a long time to be dead but still conscious; a spirit, ghost, apparition, whatever you wanted to call it. If it weren’t for the fact you were more-so apparition than person, you’d almost say it’s like being alive and immortal for longer than god (or genetics, you weren’t picky) ever intended. 

And being ‘alive’ for so long is very boring; especially now that the deep-seeded anger in your heart has faded, those who wronged you long gone and their kin far too distant from them for you to ever wish ill-will towards them. Especially now that the fear you felt, the horrific terror you felt being escorted to your improper grave and the existential dread that hung heavy when you revived, only to realize you hadn’t survived nor been healed for a second chance. No, you were dead; rejected by both heaven and hell, not even worthy for eternal damnation. The only upside to this was that you were still capable of interacting with the living world; more than you could say for the very, very, VERY small number of ghouls you had met in your time of unliving. Apparently you were a bit unusual, you being far more capable and capable of manipulating the living world than the 'run-of-the-mill' ghost.

That being said, your current behavior, which was following around some hunky military men like a lovesick maiden, was totally excusable…

…It wasn’t creepy, no, you weren’t being improper. You were totally just... curious. It couldn’t have been the fact that you died unwed— a pure virgin, hardly having even engaged in romantic acts, as you were devout in your chaste nature. I mean, surely your absolute devotion which led to you never even kissing a man or woman, holding hands or lying with someone earned you a little justification to do… whatever you were doing right now.

Okay, maybe it was a bit creepy. But dying a without so much as ever having ONE cute little date with heated cheeks, bashful giggles, and butterflies in your stomach as your hands brushed each others— FOLLOWED by being forced to go entirely unperceived much less feeling any sort of physical contact or verbal interaction for A COUPLE CENTURIES makes this somewhat understandable.

It’s not like you were really DOING anything, (because, again, that was a wee-bit hard in your current state) you’ve just kind of been following this guy around?

(You followed him around because you overheard people refer to him as ‘Ghost’ and as an actual ghost you found that a little funny)

Then that led to you following his team around. You had, somewhat, messed with the men— not much, mainly flickering lights, closing doors, and moving objects slightly.

There had been slight complaints, but not much indicating they knew they were facing a lonely, dead girl who died unfairly supernatural danger in the form of a poltergeist with abnormally strong powers. Just assumptions that ‘the wiring was faulty’, or that ‘someone must’ve left a window open’, sometimes they just assume someone knocked something over (despite nobody being near said knocked object). Oh, and your favorite was that ‘some stupid recruits moving shit’— speaking of which— the guys you followed were all pretty high-ranking from your understanding and occasionally trained recruits. That was cool in its own right, but it was especially great for you because you could lob stuff at them and get some poor recruit in trouble. It was fun.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t fun enough to keep you entertained. Now, given when you were born and raised it wasn’t a surprise that you weren’t particularly that literate. Your brain (long gone and returned to the ground) wasn’t even physical or attached to you anymore, so it wasn’t a surprise that learning things was often hard for you(something you hated in death, as learning things would help pass the time if it weren't frustrating and near impossible both because you couldn’t access physical hobbies or items like books AND because your brain—or lack thereof— simply didn’t take to information like it used to), but you knew enough of written English to make out most newspapers and documents. Despite that, you had very little clue of the strange ciphers and terms used by the men, even though you had remained mainly around the military base they were staying in for a few months. 

…That was until recently, when you decided you were curious enough to try and actually learn about what they’re doing. You were currently following this guy— Captain Price, you think— because from what you knew (as a woman who died in the middle ages, uneducated, illiterate, dying fairly young by today's standards anyways and having lived without ever partaking in any wars or battles and not ever bothering to ask about any) he was the highest rank of the team, followed by that ‘Ghost’ guy you originally followed (he’s called a lieutenant, a word you hated writing or reading because it was so damn hard to spell or even look at), then this ‘Soap’ fella (A sergeant, another word you weren’t a fan of) and then this ‘Gaz’ bloke (Who was apparently also a sergeant, but he was the second? So he was lower? Why did they need two? And why was one rank worse than the other? You didn’t know and frankly found it stupid.) There were also these other people; Shadow Company or something, you didn’t really get it because the guy who they most frequently talked to from that company was white as a sheet, but whatever.

Anyways, recently you found out that while wandering wasn’t an issue for you (you weren’t ever bound to a particular area, probably because your body, or whatever remained of it, was far from where you died, and you couldn’t really remember where you were when you died so you weren’t particularly attached) it was very hard for you to follow after the ‘vehicles’ they used. Sometimes they used these wheeled inventions called ‘cars’ (which were kinda like the horses, carts, and carriages of your time but not shitty). They also had these things— called ‘helicopters’ or something similar with a different name (again, you didn't know why they made things so complicated but whatever) that were able to take them anywhere by air. Pretty cool if it weren’t for the fact it made following them anywhere exceptionally difficult. So you had to go about a different method if you wanted to actually follow them anywhere.

Possession. 

Not necessarily like the kind you’d seen in a ghost-related movie you watched over an unwitting couple’s shoulder. It was more so just somewhat attaching yourself to someone, letting part of yourself (probably your soul, if you actually had one) attach to theirs, letting them become a tether into the physical plane. The realm of the living. If you pushed it far you could absolutely do like they do in the movies, but you found that kind of scary since you didn’t know how much of your soul was required for that or if you could be exorcized like in the movies. You really only tethered yourself to someone when you first transitioned into… whatever you were now.

 A wraith, at the time, aggressive and vengeful against the man who accused you, the town that raised you then gazed at you hungrily— blaming you for their sins. Calling you a temptress for the beauty you acquired with your maturation, something you were once proud about turned into something you abhorred.

At one point you even felt festering hatred towards the family that raised you. A mother who birthed you only to denounce birthing you, claiming a devil implanted you as a demon of the night that’d ruin their village and took the milk meant for sons, your elder brothers. A father, one who doted on you before as his precious only daughter and youngest, turning his head; unable to watch as you were tied to the pyre and lit ablaze— a man who was cowardly and evasive. The siblings of yours that you grew with— were close with, were cared for by, were raised by! 

All for them to pretend they had nothing to do with you. Or to join the crowd’s jeering turned cheers as you sobbed, salty tears unable to extinguish the fast-growing embers. Not one of them dared to correct the executioner’s methods. Witches, despite stigma, were usually hung or otherwise given quick deaths prior to the burning; but you… 

Oh, poor, poor you. Things weren’t quite done correctly. You were still alive when they tied you to the post, surrounding you with flammables and letting the flames lick up your body. Catatonic, unable to beg for mercy, for them to kill you properly. Though, even if you were able to speak, you probably wouldn’t beg. You were desperate to survive. When they butchered you like the farm animals you’d skinned many times before with your dear-old-dad. Failed to cut the correct places and left you bleeding, conscious but paralyzed in pain and fear as they dragged your body to a make-shift wooden post in the town center. Never let you burn fully, the triumph leaving their voices when they still saw you, struggling— eyes still moving, hyperventilating as your arms thrashed trying to break the burnt ropes, paralysis spell broken by desperation— still living, still struggling, still surviving.

They didn’t have the courage to finish burning you either.

It'd be a poor choice if you were a witch, since burning was supposed to be done to stop them from cursing people…

Actually, now that you’re thinking about it, maybe you were a witch? Maybe you had somehow sold your soul, and with no soul to give you could enter the afterlife? Maybe that’s why you felt a path of fury when you died? You felt wronged and cursed people for nearly half the first century you found yourself un-living.

Regardless, the cowards backed away from you with wide eyes, and eventually you felt the ropes break, your body barely reacting to what you wanted it to do, stumbling around aimlessly despite your efforts.

All you could do was scramble out the village, betrayed and never wanting to return.

Eventually, you fell to a crawl, dragging yourself through the grass, fingernails caked with a mix of dirt and blood, as if your near-corpse was trying to create a shallow grave every time you scraped them across the ground…

Somehow, you ended up falling into a river. You don’t know if you fell  during your crawls or if someone put you in there, just that it was excruciatingly cold and your lungs, shrunken and shriveled by the heat of your incomplete incineration couldn’t get any air. You tried pulling yourself out but you were too far gone. Even then, ‘til the point your eyes closed you never gave up. Maybe you were so against dying your soul remained, even when your body went.

Honestly, you weren’t ever really sure which of those injuries eventually lead to your drawn-out and overdue death, but you didn’t care. What you did care about, upon re-awakening, was revenge, hearing the blood-curdling screams of those who wronged you, those who feigned ignorance, those who lied, and those who threw you out when false accusations came. You were swift in it, tethering yourself to everyone in town, attaching small pieces of yourself meant for one purpose: tracking.

No matter where they went they were damned, your violent-haze, the cravings for others to bear a fraction of your misfortune. You were like a tsunami, quick to approach with little warning, only the quick recession of water to warn those who’d be affected. (Not that your victims knew what a train was, but it was like the equivalent of seeing a train barreling toward you and being unable to move, only able to process what's about to happen.) And you were even swifter to strike, small misfortunes not enough to quell that furious fire inside you— brighter than those that scalded you. All ended in what you thought were well-deserved deaths.

But, that wasn’t what you’d be using them for. Not today, and hopefully never again.

You decided you’d turn up the heat a bit and have these men notice that they were, in fact, haunted and not just clumsy or forgetful. You had an easier time manipulating things when no-one was around, or when someone was alone. Easy prey for the ghoulish you, even if most of these guys could probably have easily broken you in half when you were still alive. It sounded dumb to give yourself away, since they might try to send you back to the rest you used to crave upon first re-animating, but it was necessary to tether yourself.

So… here you were! Fucking around and moving things, only to be met with just minor annoyance by this guy. ‘Price’, for some unknown reason, just seemed minorly peeved by your interactions, not convinced they were supernatural.

You moved his chair and desk(which was pretty hard with how heavy it was) and this guy just groaned about how his superiors treated his office however they wanted when they needed something.

You sent his papers flying, stacks of paperwork sorted neatly into piles of done and yet-to-be looked at, all flying. You flung the pen he used too, sending a blotch of ink onto the floor with the papers, permanently soaking them. Minor annoyance, didn’t even say anything. Just… grumbled. 

Hell, you toppled over a WHOLE bookshelf, loud thud echoing as it fell to the ground and all its contents scattered. And this guy? Grumbling about how the flooring was uneven!

If you had a physical body, you’d be beating your head against a wall right now. Seriously, it was frustrating!

You guessed you had done something correctly though, as he seemed annoyed enough to leave his office and go for a walk. Throughout said walk you continued throwing items and flying through his body, which usually caused people immense discomfort, sometimes to the point of causing panic attacks or full-on freak-outs. All that? Yeah, met with a “Bit chilly today.” or a “Someone outta close th’ windows.”

You were offended, to say the least.

Now, you were in a common room with several other people, including those guys, Gaz and Soap, who now talked to the Price fella. It was harder to interact with things, especially with so many people in broad daylight, in light in general. But you surprised yourself when your frustrations and slight anger led to the lightbulbs in the room flickering several times before simultaneously combusting into sparks and broken glass, all electronics—mainly the radios strapped to almost every soldier in the room—  with speakers blaring loud static as you flung the nearest object, a bench that you didn't initially notice was bolted to the fucking ground out from it and towards Price, and the other two who surrounded him. 

‘Oops..?’

Okay, maybe you weren’t entirely devoid of anger and wrathful vengeance, but you’d like to think your self-control was a lot better than when you first died. You did have around… well, about 400 other years to learn some self-restraint and become slightly less blood-thirsty?

ANYWAYS; Lucky for you they all managed to dodge that heavy and fast approaching bench! good thing they were all trained soldiers who were always on guard Oh, and even better everyone in the room now looked at the uprooted bench with wide eyes and terrified expressions! So… mission accomplished?

Well, sort of?

“The hell?!” Everyone in the room backed towards whatever wall was nearest to them, behind unmoved furniture, or otherwise tactically covered positions as quick as they could, many (including the poor sod you’d been following and the rest of his team) having their guns ready and aimed at the entrances or near the uprooted bench.

…Yeah, you didn’t really wanna deal with this.

So you floated off, through the walls pretending your problems didn’t exist, as you usually did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You came across something pretty interesting, that Ghost guy was doing some strange hand gestures to this other masked fella (why was everyone here covered almost head to in something?). For a moment you thought they were trying to summon something before remembering that the military used hand signals and stuff. 

Anyways, you now had a new guy to follow! He looked pretty cool and he had these little things hanging off his helmet that remind you of a bug. Something… was slightly off with this guy though. You could’ve SWORN he was occasionally glancing over at you, or your general area. Ghost, who you couldn’t really tell much expression-wise due to him also wearing a mask, seemed to lift an eyebrow. Or furrow them. You didn’t know, you just saw his forehead area shift a bit under the mask. 

“You 'lright?” He turned and glanced over at you, where his bug-like friend kept glancing. Bug-fella looked over at you for a few more moments before shaking his head and gesturing at Ghost again. Ghost seemingly returns to his resting facial position and glances back towards your general direction, not quite as spot on as his friend was. “Y' just keep looking over there, ‘was wondering why.” 

Ghost loses interest quickly, turning away from where his friend was staring, resuming his silent communication with the still-unnamed lad, hand gestures becoming far too fast for you to even comprehend what they were doing even if you did understand what the gestures meant. After a short while of just floating around and watching them, Ghost gives the shorter man a light bump to the shoulder with his fist (seemingly friendly?) and turns to leave. “See y’ round.” 

It’s just you and Bug-boy now. The room empty, and his eyes (not that you can see them, he’s wearing a helmet and goggles that are practically solid with how heavy the glass is tinted) are aimed directly at you. You float over, hovering a good foot or two off the floor because the ground and gravity were for cowards, and stop a few inches away from him. He reaches a hand up towards you, only for it to quickly phase through your arm, then your torso, then back into the air. He’s startled by the feeling, you can tell, shivering as goosebumps raise on his arm and his hair stands on end, you can tell because of his sleeves being bunched up at his elbows. 

“Sorry.” you say, not even sure if he’d hear you. Maybe this was some weird coincidence and he couldn’t actually see you. Though, to your utter surprise and slight delight he kind of waves it off, making gestures (full body ones this time, not the hand-signals you couldn’t quite understand) that you could interpret as meaning ‘not to worry about it’. Your eyes widened, before breaking into a big grin. “Wait, wait, wait, you can see me? You heard me— can hear me?!” He nods, looking at you, observing, then gesturing with his hands again.

You.. feel a little bad that you don’t understand whatever military signs this must be, tilting your head and frowning. “I… I don’t understand. Sorry, I don’t know much about the military signals or whatever you were using. The code signs and words you guys use weren’t around when I lived. Or died.” He seems a little confused, then brings out a rectangle from his pocket— a phone, new invention and quite useful. It lights up as he puts in the code and opens something, pressing at the glass. 

After a moment he turns it towards you. It… takes you a little to adjust to the brightness (and to read the small letters, given your eyesight and low-literacy). “Give me a second, it takes me a minute to read.” In your peripheral he nods, though you don't move your gaze away from the screen.

“That’s fine, not many people know sign language. It’s not a military signal, just a way I communicate since I’m mute.” You read his words aloud, relatively slowly and he nods after you’ve read it; confirming you’ve read it correctly. 

You glance back up at him. “Mute… So you… can’t speak? Right?” Another nod, then he turns the phone back to himself, rapidly pressing the screen and turning it back again. You read again, “What are you? How are you floating, and why’d my hand go through? Why were you watching us?” You hum, floating away from him slightly, sinking slightly to a sitting position, though still remaining affixed in the air and not sitting on an actual chair.

“Well, I’m dead. I guess you could call me a spirit, spectral, a ghost…” you chuckle a bit at the last one. “Well, maybe not that last one, it seems your friend already occupies it.”  You lean forward again, nearly doing a backflip in the air before stopping in a lying position, holding your head in your hands. “I guess me being dead physically but alive… consciously, or spiritually I guess..? Resulted in me being incorporeal, thus not really touchable by people or gravity.” He nods at your words before motioning for you to continue when you pause.

You avert your eyes. “Well, watching people is all I usually can do. Incorporeal and all. I’m not sure how you can see me when I’m not manifested or tethered to you, but it’s nice…” Smiling sheepishly, you can only hope this guy— the only person you’ve actually talked to in a long, long, time— isn’t grimacing under his mask. You hesitate before reaching out towards him, running a finger down his throat in thought, forgetting it'd just phase through. “Maybe it's because you can't speak? It's not a sense but it's like maybe because you don't have one thing your other senses are better? But back to your prior questions. Being dead is… boring. All I can really do is fuck with people and watch stuff. You and your friend, Ghost, and his other… teammates are just what have caught my interest recently.”

He nods and trots over to a nearby bench, you grimace thinking about the mischief you caused slightly earlier by throwing a bench at the captain. Let’s hope your bug-friend doesn’t overhear that and stop talking to you. “What’s your name?” He types, and turns the phone to you, a single word there. “Roach? Like… the bug?” your mouth quirks into a crooked smile and you giggle, flicking the antenna like attachments to his helmet. “Fitting, you got the antennas and everything!” 

Floating down onto the seat, you try your best to sit on it, your bum and thighs slightly phasing through the seat but it's fine. ‘Roach’ begins typing on his phone again, having it set on his thigh so you can watch while he types. It was also probably just in case someone came in or saw him and so he wouldn’t look crazy turning his phone around to nothing (from other people’s perspectives).

“People can’t usually see you?”

You sigh and lean back, accidentally reclining into the wall and to the other side before realizing he probably won’t be able to hear you if you speak. “Oops, I forgot I’d phase through. Uh, yeah they usually can’t unless I’m actively haunting them and choosing to. It takes a lot of energy to do that though, so…” He nods and hovers his fingers over the phone, thinking for a moment.

“What's your name?”

You hum, thinking for a moment. You... haven't had to introduce yourself to anyone in centuries.

"This... well, it's a little embarrassing, but I can't remember."

"Why don't I call you 'Poltergeist' for now then, since Ghost is taken?" You smile at him, your cheeks feel like they've heated up slightly, but not from the lingering burn you got after your death, no, it was the burn of happiness. Giddy from this guy giving you a name, almost like you were a stray. You shouldn't be this happy, clinging to him and internally deeming him your new best friend, but you were.

Your undeath began a new chapter today, now living as 'Poltergeist' (at least until you remembered your name) with your new ghost-inclined friend Roach.

#cod x reader #ghost reader #light angst #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #captain price #reader insert #fem reader #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #roach cod #ghost cod #soap cod #task force 141 #task force x reader #x reader #cod mw x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare

[v4voracity]

do any of yall find it hard to get to a good stopping point when writing things?

because my god i just wanna keep going or i've got a good stopping point but im not satisfied with what i was able to fit in before it and just wanna keep going like ragrhagaha the brain worms wanna write but im so shleepy

#thoughts #writing #suffering

[v4voracity]

girl please change your icon 😭😭 ppl are gonna think you're a bot

Oops, I swore I changed it earlier, thanks for reminding me though :)

it should be changed now haha!

not a bot for anyone wonder btw 😎😎😎

[v4voracity]

TOO CLOSE MASTERLIST

A master-list of all my posts relating to "Too Close", also known as a Self-Aware! AU COD characters x reader. heavily inspired by @puff0o0/@wishesforyou and @simp4konig (p.s if you're tagged here and don't wanna be let me know! i wanna respect all creators and their wishes especially if they inspired my lazy self to write something)

Link back to main masterlist

Title inspired by the song "Too Close" - by Sir Chloe.

"I want to want you, baby, But you're making it so hard I try to bite the bullet And just take you as you are; You get too close, Take the one I love the most And I think it's time for you to go"

Part 1

#self aware au #cod x reader #self aware au cod #cod mw2 #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick

[v4voracity]

INTRODUCTION AND MASTERLIST

intro and masterlist below, cut to not take up your feeds :)

INTRODUCTION

Hi, I'm V4Voracity, but you can call me Vee! I'm 18, turning 19 soon! I'm really new to tumblr(like, never really used it before a week ago new), and joined because I saw a fandom I like was most active here! I usually read and sometimes write very self-indulgent fics that I'll share! I use she/they pronouns, and I try to respect pronouns as best as I can, and will usually default to people as they/them if I don't know theirs. Will probably be mostly COD fanfics B)

It's been a few years since I've actually written anything, so I'm probably a little rusty! If you are a minor please don't interact or be cautious about what you consume content warnings are there for a reason, as I like to read darkfics and that may sometimes leak into my own writing. I'm open to criticism and any suggestions!!! Feel free to chat me up !!! I don't currently write smut or sexual NSFW, mainly because I'm not super interested in doing so nor experienced in writing it. My MDNI is mainly because I like to consume and write slightly darker content (though, COD is a series about dudes in the military who kill for a living so... kinda expected?)

MASTERLIST

All series are named after a song, which will be mentioned in the sub-list containing all parts incase your interested. mainly based off what I listen to while writing or what inspired it! I also try to credit if the fic idea was inspired by someone else's work.

Series

TOO CLOSE - (SelfAware! COD characters x reader) HALF A HEART - (COD characters x Poltergeist!reader) WET - (COD characters x Shifter! Reader) VENUS FLY TRAP - (Hybrid! AU COD characters x reader) the crossed out ones above aren't done being written or I haven't got a chance to write them yet but I plan to because they're giving me creative brain worm.

Oneshots

none currently

Misc

none currently

#masterlist #intro post #blog intro #introduction #mdni #master list #masterpost #cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

[v4voracity]

TOO CLOSE - SELF AWARE COD CHARACTERS X READER

⥇❥"Reader" is described as "feminine leaning" or "feminine sounding"; however, they/them and it/its pronouns are used and no bodily adjectives are used in this part because reader is only described as "that person" or "the voice". Let me know if I should make an alternate post(s) slightly adjusted for masculine or androgynous description, and if I missed any content warning tags. I plan on making a masculine version for this one due to someone's request, currently deciding if I should just slightly re-write to change descriptions or fully-rewrite it :)

  ⥇❥Word Count: 3940, excluding warnings and text above the cut.

⥇❥CONTENT WARNING FOR:

↪ body horror(?) ↪ usual “Darkfic” stuff,  ↪ yandere tendencies ↪ Angst™ ↪ possible OOC characters ↪ american author writing (mostly) british people

I totally plan on continuing this drabble with another part so some of the warnings aren't quite apparent yet teehee <3

Link to main masterlist - Link to TOO CLOSE sub-list

You have been warned, scroll at your own risk.

There was always that nagging feeling that Ghost was being watched, paranoia which he had long since grown accustomed to. But, there were always times he felt it… heighten, where this…  this strange sense of dejá vu seemed to take root in his mind. Sometimes, he felt like his movements weren't his own despite it being his will that moved those joints.

It occurred often after he joined the military, and occasionally, when in the quiet of his thoughts, he could hear something. At first, he thought it was a teammate coming through his comms, yet “the voice” wasn't familiar. 

He remembered when he first heard it. 

A quiet voice saying something he didn’t quite catch. He sighed, heavy and annoyed at himself, focusing a bit more on the radio firmly strapped to his chest as he pressed a button with a familiar practiced ease. Despite the fact he laid prone on the ground, hidden amongst foliage he had no trouble reaching it and speaking up. It was… slightly embarrassing that he lost focus and needed to repeat instructions, but he’d rather face slight embarrassment over fumbling an important mission because he didn’t want to ask for them to repeat what was said. Not that Simon “Ghost” Riley was afraid of dying. As a soldier he honestly felt more fearful that he’d fuck up a mission and get yelled at by a superior. That he’d hurt people he was trying to protect. That he’d prove that nagging voice in the back of his head right, the annoying doubtful little shit always lingering despite his confidence that had grown with experience. 

Regardless, he didn’t care to debate with himself about yet another experience that would keep him up at night, wallowing in his bed thinking about everything he could’ve done differently. “Say again?” He asked, cautious to remain quiet and hidden, yet gravely tone firm and clear enough for the other side of his line to hear. Yet no one on the other side of the line said anything previously, voicing their confusion when he asked them to repeat something never said.

Yet no other soul was around the precarious position he perched himself, his scope aimed at distant enemies. He even briefly glanced around, surveying his surroundings for possible danger, anyone, anything. Then “the voice” came through again, energetic and excited— far too unprofessional for how serious that mission was. ‘A recruit,’ he would’ve thought if not for the fact nobody else acknowledged it.

However, once the mission ended, that strange feeling faded, and “the voice” didn't appear again… 

…Until a few months later, on another mission.

The uncomfortable feeling of being watched, the almost foreign feeling of his own body, and “the voice” returned. His skin crawled.

 As if something had forcefully crept beneath it, lifting the skin and making itself comfortable in his body. Claiming it for itself as it burrowed deep into the muscular fiber, into his organs, and flowed in his veins in place of blood. It felt… parasitic and invasive. It disturbed him greatly how the feeling came and went suddenly without cause. Leaving him as it wished and then showing up without warning, without his permission. How it happened to him regardless of how steeled his nerves were. Of how experienced he became.

And, as he would soon find, no matter how intensely he looked around, nobody else was present. Yet “the voice”, which he had to strain to even remotely understand, seemed to respond as if they could see him based on the few words he could catch. 

“HOLY SHIT! He looks so cool, dude! Look at his fuckin’ rifle, his gear! This was so worth the wait. He’s got a new mask too! I’m so glad they brought him back, ugh, literally my favorite poster boy of the whole franchise.”

And if Ghost focused a little bit more, he'd notice it didn't quite sound right, as if it wasn't speaking aloud. “The voice” didn't echo around the room when he was inside, didn't echo through the air when he was outside, nor did it have the crackle of the radio. It was simply muffled, like if someone talked from a room over.

“...Uh, yeah, it was totally worth the fifty-freakin-bucks. Rent can wait, my war criminal pookies can’t! …Yes I know they’re probably not actual war criminals. Yeah, I KNOW they’re… man, you’re no fun. Let me simp in peace.”

Ghost knew he hadn't exactly been the… most sound of mind, but he truly began to worry he might have been hallucinating. “The voice” had been following him for an increasingly long amount of time at this point, and he mostly tuned it out. He recently found himself in a new group though, which led to a disturbing realization that he wasn’t fully insane. His worries about that were swiped away when Soap (his new sergeant who was a little too talkative for his own good, in Ghost’s opinion) ever-so-casually asked about “the voice” he overheard during the mission, which he couldn't quite recognize. Everyone in the helicopter was surprised on the ride back, anxiously discussing that faint voice they'd all heard— had been hearing on and off during missions. It gave Ghost a whole new fear.

It was no secret that a majority of the people in base and on missions with them were men, so that distinctly feminine voice being hard to pinpoint caused a new worry among the team. The potential breach of their communication network. The topic came up as an innocent question from Soap about who “the voice” was before everyone realized they all heard that voice, contradictory in how it sounded so near yet so far, so clear yet it hurt their heads to try and process what was said, clouding their minds in a haze if they tried focusing on it for too long.

It was a clear cause for concern. 

Their task force, Task Force 141, a highly-qualified team, who frequently had taken on missions even some of the most seasoned veterans would find difficult.

Their task force, carefully hand-picked from all corners and crevices of the globe, skills compared, packed like a puzzle to cover all fronts. Their identities and information taken apart and put back together, their secrets in the open to the prying eyes of Captain Price as he was given the authority to form a team. Personalities scrutinized against one another to ensure the utmost efficiency and dynamic interactions between teammates.

Their taskforce, the best of the best, highly efficient, a well oiled machine crafted with the utmost caution for the most risky, dirty, and sometimes immoral missions that most wouldn't be able to stomach. All for the betterment of the world and for the protection of their homes and countries.

And yet they couldn't find a single trail, not a single damn clue, about this… voice. "That voice" that came and went almost exclusively on missions, too. There were very, very few cases where it breached outside of missions. Truthfully, Ghost didn't know what he found worse. That the team heard it outside of missions where they didn't have radio communication, simply just out and about, or that it had breached past the sanctity of the missions, crossing into the supposed safe zone of their respective bases, homes, and private lives. Passing the line that they usually hide behind for comfort after rough missions, the place they went to lick their wounds, to reload their guns, and to confide in each other. And this thing, brash and bold came through, kicking that metaphorical line in the sand and bouncing past their defenses without repercussions.

It started in instances where they could ignore it. 

Where it could've been just their mind playing tricks or someone who sounded similar.

At first it was Soap, running around the track and hearing it faintly. He could've mistaken it for the music blaring through his ears if it wasn't for the fact he knew the lyrics by heart, and the singer sounded nothing like "that voice".

“Whoa, Soap cutscene. We’re being fed today. Get your bowls 'n spoons.”

He could’ve sworn he even heard a ‘clank’ of glass or something. It was worse when he realized his earbuds didn't block out “the voice” anymore than usual. It was always somewhat muffled and incoherent unless he focused, even in the quiet. Yet the earbuds in his ears didn't alter it at all. He took a longer shower than usual that day, trying to let the cold water shock him enough to forget what he heard while thoughts ran wild in his head… It ended with him being slightly late to an important team meeting and getting assigned some training as punishment. He chose to keep why he was late a secret, not wanting to startle anyone about “the voice” or sound crazy.

Then it was Gaz. Friendly, slightly more inexperienced than the rest, Gaz. Gaz was on temporary time off, having accidentally pulled a muscle in his arm. He was simply walking through the streets of a nearby town where he had rented a flat. He rarely actually used the thing, since he spent most of his time at base and it was more convenient to use the barracks. Nevertheless, he still found himself in the quaint little town, going for groceries to stock his apartment's fridge. He was weaving through the streets when he heard that odd and unrestrained laugh, snorting and uncaring if it's an embarrassing laugh. 

“Gaz… my pookie-wookie, my cutie-patootie, my absolute ray of sunshine… WHOMST THE FUCK IS DRESSING YOU LIKE THAT?!”

He probably looked like a madman with how frantically he looked around, suddenly stiffened and still as some people complained behind him from how abruptly he stopped, causing them to bump into him. Yet nothing conclusive, he couldn’t even figure out the direction it came from, much less find out who it came from. He didn’t bother talking about it, only loosely mentioning it later when it came up in a discussion.

After that it was Price and Laswell. The two of them standing in a surprisingly mundane office in the base, not expecting much when that bold-fucking-voice echoed through both of their ears. Something about being a homewrecker? They… didn’t know. 

“Laswell!!! Man I wish they had her appear more often, she’s so cool… I’d totally marry her if she didn’t have a wife… What do you mean you’d become a homewrecker in seconds? Have some fuckin’ respect for the woman. Besides I thought you liked Price? He’s… single? I think?”

But it forced both of them to lose their casual mood from before, because they both heard it and neither of them knew what to think about the fact that they were hearing it outside of missions now. That… that was very bad.

The last straw was when Ghost was handing spare masks to the team when there's a faint comment about it. He can't quite hear it, can't quite wrap his mind around what's being said. No one ever seems to make out the words; at least not fully. As if there's a barricade between them and “the voice”. A veil yet to be ripped away to reveal the person underneath. A blockade made to infuriate them and taunt their attempts.

“How many do you think he has?”

A small silence follows the initial voice, as if waiting for a response, then followed with a giggle. A response unheard to his ears, to anyone’s ears. The others tense, hearing "the voice", but no one comments on it at the moment. They had a mission to get to. But they all knew they needed to do something when they got back.

“They probably do smell. They’re out there hiding in grass, getting bloody and sweaty, sometimes deployed for a month, so they definitely stink.”

And yet nothing came of that either. The only thing that changed is that they were all aware of this voice that seemed to follow them. That only their taskforce ever seemed to hear or acknowledge it. That "the voice" came from everywhere and nowhere all at once, sounding as if it was being broadcasted directly to their brains. No trace of this thing only they could perceive, and they started coming to conclusions that were less than rational; because rational thought hadn’t gotten them anywhere thus far. Gaz suggested it might’ve been a ghost, to which Price corrected that it must be a demon rather than a ghost, Soap suggested it was some weird matrix shit, then Laswell tried to convince everyone it was some weird shared delusion. They couldn’t settle on any theories. Ghost didn’t need an explanation. Or at least, he tried convincing himself that, tried telling himself he just needed this thing gone.

These abrupt drop-ins by “the voice” went on for a long while. Something they regrettably got used to. Something they let fester and become a part of them, even if they didn't know it. “That voice” ingrained into their brains, the elated giggles, the annoyed groans, the triumphant cheers, the frequent queries, answers to questions they never heard, stupid comments, everything in-between... 

Ghost didn't notice at first. Time went on, the Task Force's missions increasing after they bombed General Ghorbrani during an arms deal Ghost intercepted. Things were escalating into a silent war the general populace wouldn’t notice, and likely never know about, kept quiet and under wraps to keep the waters calm. The voice lingering on every damn mission, somehow with all of them at once even if they were in different corners of the globe. 

Then he had a wave of realization wash over him.

It was an easy mission compared to the previous few. An easy in-and-out. Just him and Soap, watching a building from afar. Biding their time. He felt anxious, a long gone twitch in his fingers resurfacing as he felt his fingers become clammy beneath his gloves. 

He had to stay calm, stay cool. He was ‘Ghost’ right now, a walking dead-man without weakness. He was strong. This mission was easy. 

This was no time to be antsy. Patience, he reminded himself. It was just him coming down from the high of adrenaline of the previous missions, all fast paced and requiring frequent combat. That's what he tried to tell himself, when that bloody Scotsman casually began chattering over the radio.

Jokes, bad ones, yet jokes he shared an enthusiasm for with Soap nonetheless. Ghost could tell there was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke though, equally antsy. He may have been somewhat distant but he was perceptive. Picked up on behaviors in others. Read them and their emotions. It was necessary in his job, and he was sure Soap probably picked up on his nervousness as well, as he was smart, even if he sometimes seemed a little air-headed and brash at times.

"No laughs from 'that person' today?" Soap feigned offense. Then they both realized. They were anxious from the lack of that person. “The voice”. They obviously didn't know who it was or their name, but everyone on the force knew who was being referred to when someone said 'that person' or “the voice”.

 It felt laughable that they were startled by some incorporeal voice not being there. If anything, they should be grateful they were spared its presence. Yet they weren’t. Ghost laid in his bed that night, sleepless, a common occurrence for him. But tonight instead of the nightmares that played when he closed his eyes, he just… contemplated. Brooding.

It was a few nights later when he came to terms with it. He knew some things were wrong with him, hell, most soldiers had something wrong with them if they worked as long as he did. But, he found himself.. weirdly fine with it. It seemed some of his teammates felt the same way as he did, and others did not. Soap made jokes out of it, unafraid around other Task Force members to refer to “the voice”, sometimes speaking directly at it, most of the time not getting much in terms of responses. There was only really one time he could make out something from “the voice” in response to one of Soap’s direct words towards it.

“That line… didn't play last time I played this one.”

It was probably one of the only things he could make the full sentence out of, and it seems everyone else on the team heard it fairly clearly as well. “...‘That line?’” Price repeated, quizzical. Referring to it like a game. 

“Must… Must be an easter egg.” A nervous laugh followed. 

The next time he found himself on a mission with that strange feeling, as if he weren’t himself, as if something else willed his way… There was almost complete silence. Unusual, a first for that sinking feeling to be there without any noise. He noticed after the missions were over that only when he had that uncomfortable feeling was "the voice" responsive. 

“Not talkative today?” He asked, not really to anything in particular and not expecting any sort of response. He could almost intuitively tell whatever “the voice” was, was there. He was again alone for this mission and that probably was what gave him the confidence to actually speak to it. He wasn’t worried about anyone hearing him and sounding crazy. And the response? Well, it was hard to hear, almost inaudible to him, but he heard a small gasp, and a shaky breath afterwards. 

…That was probably the first time the weird feeling left his body mid-mission. As if it was the one unsettled when every time it appeared, he and his teammates felt out of control, a passenger in their own body, hazed and moving as if puppets. Hearing a voice that lacked a body, floating around and seemingly coming from nowhere. It had no echo, no substance or matter, as if the sound didn't vibrate through the air.

And it was a while before he, or anyone, heard that lovely— 

…“The voice” again. He was careful not to directly reference it. Them.

Ghost thought about it some more, and found himself talking to Gaz one night at the pub, Soap hammered, currently in the bathroom while Price tried to help him to get stable enough to get to the rented car so the four of them could return to base. “Maybe Soap wasn’t too far off with the Matrix idea.” Gaz idly swirled his cup, almost devoid of liquid and only really clinking the ice in it around. He wasn’t really talking to Ghost in particular, more-so rambling to the air and himself due to him being tipsy.

Ghost leaned back in the booth, his mask barely lifted enough to allow him to drink a bourbon he’d been nursing half the night. Didn’t want a hangover the next day, he’d already be in a bad mood since he had recruits to train and they were often stupid and infuriating. “Yeah? How so?” 

Gaz, who seemed to not really mean anything when he initially spoke, sat up straighter, more zoned in on the conversation upon seeing his Lieutenant had taken an interest in what he was saying. “I was thinking about some of the things I’ve heard, that the others have heard, and just… the reactions in general. And that feeling… I don’t know if you get it but—”

“Like you’re possessed.” He interjected, knowing what he meant. Gaz’s eyes widened slightly. While they all knew about “the voice”, it seems none of them knew that weird feeling was shared. The feeling of being possessed, watched, almost like they were prey, not highly experienced military men capable of defending themselves and others. He nodded and drank the rest of his bourbon, setting it down on the table and looking back to Gaz, tucking his mask back down over his face.

“It’s just like… Like they’re playing a game. Controlling us. The reactions… It's like when you complete an objective or something. And it’d explain the feeling, like we’re controlled. Plus with how they reacted to Soap that one time, I could see it.”

“See it? The hell you seein’?” He didn't want to believe his life was a game. But Gaz made some good points. Ghost… No, Simon didn't play many games. He’d played a few party games with his team during off-time, Price convincing them that Mario-Kart was in fact a good team-bonding activity and absolutely necessary. But his off time wasn’t usually spent playing games, it just wasn’t something he could relax enough to do, never able to get calm enough to focus solely on said game.

“Imagine you’re playing a game—”

“Hard to imagine.” He barks, slightly sorry at the tone, though he wouldn’t correct himself.

Gaz sighs and continues. “Okay, imagine that it's team bonding night, and we’re playing Mario Party. Imagine everyone having a good time, laughing, chatting, playing the game, when Mario turns directly to the screen and acknowledges you. Like, unprompted, never happened before when you’ve played the game hundreds of times before? You’d probably be a little freaked out if you knew it wasn't the type of game to do something like that.”

Price interrupts, Soap slung over his shoulder and motions for them to head out to the car after he pays for the tab. Once everyone is in the car, Gaz continues.

“It’s just, the shit they said made me think about it. ‘That line’, ‘last time I played this one’, hell, them directly talking about us talking to them as an ‘easter egg’ makes it seem pretty clear to me.” Price glanced over, raising a brow at Gaz, who was sitting in the front passenger as He drove. Ghost was unfortunately stuck with a very clingy Soap in the back seat. “It’s clear whatever they were referencing is similar to a game, one they’ve played before. “

“You talking about ‘that person’? ‘The voice’?” Price sighs, slightly exasperated at the topic. He wasn’t quite convinced about "the voice" being real. He was still slightly in denial, but his slight intoxication must’ve allowed him to continue listening to the topic, not shutting down Gaz’s line of thought quite yet.

“You see what I mean though? If you were playing a game and the character you were playing just randomly acknowledges you out of nowhere, suddenly fucking sentient, you’d probably be scared shitless, especially if they’re a normal civilian.” Price hums, and Ghost blinks slowly, taking the information in and moving away from partaking in the conversation. The reaction was pretty akin to the one from when he was alone and spoke to “the voice”.

“Who’d wanna play a game involving the shite we do? We’re a bunch of soldiers doing unsavory work, I doubt that’s entertaining.” Price shakes his head, gripping the wheel a little tighter, his knuckles slightly turning white before he relaxes his hand with a sigh.

“Maybe not to us since it’s real-life. But think about it like this, a ton of people watch horror movies or slasher films. It’s not that they enjoy watching people die or get scared, but it’s like… an adrenaline thing. And you know when ‘that person’ appears most? On missions.”

This time, nobody responded. Gaz didn’t bother continuing either, already having made his point clear. An uncomfortable air settled in the car, not even forgotten the next day, even Soap somehow was capable of remembering the conversation despite the fact his head was reeling and his stomach turning in the backseat of the car.

This time they had settled on a theory.

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