Wherewhale
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Everyone has their own demon inside.
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- Part 1 of Samper Fi
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Summary
After being shot Johnny wakes from a coma to catastrophe.
The world has fallen in on itself and undead roam the streets. The only clue to his salvation lies in a scribbled note across his sketchbook.
Birmingham.
And so Johnny sets out, across this strange new world, with nothing but hope. Hope, and a desperate longing to find the Ghost that haunts his faded memories.
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文章参考马尔克斯短篇小说《雪地里你的血迹》
一个愚蠢的错误使得肥皂和幽灵被迫滞留在奥地利的一片森林中。Bookmarked by Wherewhale
09 Jul 2026
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At twenty-one, John MacTavish is one of Arsenal's young superstars. At twenty-nine, Simon Riley is Manchester United's beloved homegrown hero. Aside from playing top-flight football for two of the biggest clubs in the Premier League, they shouldn't have anything in common. They certainly shouldn't be fucking. And they absolutely, most definitely, should not be falling in love.
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Noah and the Anglerfish by HigherMagic for Niceven (Nicevensilace)
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
13 Jan 2025
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“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” Soap breathes. “How often does he do this?”
Gaz turns, then, and meets his eye. “Us, and Price… We’re the only ones who’d live to talk about it,” he says. “It’s a last resort.” He reaches out, then, and puts his hand on Soap’s arm. “Being his handler means being the one to call the shots, Soap. We’re the only bloody things he cares about. Everything else is fodder. If you ever have to make this call, you better be damn sure you don’t care about survivors, because there won’t be any.”
Price had been so eager to give the order. Imagine holding the nuke in your hands, knowing that you’ll be the only thing to survive its detonation. Imagine being Noah, but with the power to call the Flood whenever he wished.
Soap shivers, something not altogether kind or good curling around his brainstem at the notion.
Whether Gaz clocks it or not, he can’t say, but he eventually murmurs, “You’ll need a psych eval after this. We all get one after Ghost smokes out. Even him.”
Soap frowns. “Why?”
Gaz shrugs. “You’ll have to ask him. Personally, I think we all like it a bit too much.”
Soap blushes, and doesn’t have the words for why.
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“He liked you, you know.”
“Yeah,” Ghost replies, “couldn’t unstick him from my side, most days.”
“No,” Price reiterates, voice stern as he does so. “I mean he liked you. He was…” Price bobs his head side to side, sort of like he’s contemplating whether or not to say the word out loud. “He told me one day. Came into my office. Thought I’d have some issue with him being on the Task Force because of it.”
Oh.
OR
Near the third anniversary of Soap's death, Ghost is barely coping. But when Price brings him a picture of Soap from three years prior, it resurfaces memories from a night with Johnny that Ghost doesn't ever want to forget-- can't forget.