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laughroditee · 14 hours

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Your Ghost | Part 2

Part 1 is here CW: this story takes place after Soap's death and contains supernatural elements, tarot, mentions of death and blood Summary: Evangeline reluctantly goes to talk to Simon about Johnny at Johnny's urging.

The ghost of John MacTavish looked down at me with a serious expression. “I did. I need yer help, Evangeline. Yer the only one who can do it.”

“No,” I said.

He blinked. “‘No?’”

“No,” I repeated, my eyes a little too wide.

“Ye haven’t even heard what I want from ye.” John looked annoyed, his brows drawing down in a frown that lined his face. It made him look maybe just a little bit intimidating. Having issues with displeasing someone, who me?

“Don’t want to. Can’t.” I shook my head for extra emphasis as if I needed it. “Mm-mm.”

“Are ye always so childish?”

Oof, right in the feelings. “You want me to talk to someone, don’t you?” I accused, my finger jabbing the air at him.

“How—?”

“Knight of Swords. Air. Communication,” I explained as if this were common knowledge and a perfectly logical conclusion to reach. “You just have that very chatty air about you, and I dunno, man, I’m not about that life. I have social anxiety. I don’t play well with strangers because I’m too busy having a heart attack around them. It’s just not a strength that I have.”

John looked momentarily apologetic before despair swallowed the expression. This gave me pause. Fuck me and my Catholic guilt. “Fine! Okay, alright, I’ll hear you out, but I can’t promise you anything.” I sat down on the edge of the bed, just trying to quell the anxious jitters making my fingers shake, The Knight of Swords card dancing slightly in my grasp. I placed it back with the other two in the reading and looked up at my ghostly kinsman.

John’s examining gaze was concerned as he stood across from me. “Ye alright, lass?”

Reminding myself to take a deep breath, I simply nodded.

A single confirmation nod from John was all he gave before launching into his story. “I was a soldier in life. SAS. British special forces. We were on a mission a few months ago, chasin’ a Russian terrorist in the London tunnels. Makarov.” His eyes blazed as the memories washed through him, spitting his enemy’s name as if it were poison. “We had ‘im too. But the fucker was slippery. My captain and I got shot while we were diffusin’ a bomb.” John’s hand went to his shoulder as if to soothe the phantom wound. “Makarov was about to finish ‘im off – my captain, I mean – but I managed to get up and clap the bastard, only… I ended up gettin’ shot in the head. Killed instantly. Then Makarov buggered off.”

I listened intently to John’s story, my heart squeezing in my chest for him. “I’m so sorry, John. I… don’t know what else to say. You were really brave.”

He smirked. “A lot of good it did me. Still, Captain Price is alive, and I dunnae regret that.” His eyes seemed focused on something far away, and I waited for him to continue.

When he didn’t, I had to prompt him. “John? What is it that you want from me?”

His eyes refocused on me, his mouth set in a grim line. “I need yer help, Evangeline…. My boyfriend was there that day. One of my teammates. He’s not doin’ well.”

Shit. I blew out a long breath as if I was trying to exorcise my demons. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated uselessly. “John, I’m… probably the last person you want to go and talk to your boyfriend about your death or literally anything else. I suck at this kind of thing. I never know what to say to grieving people, even if I’ve known them forever. Words just aren’t enough.”

“Please,” he said, kneeling by the bed, his ghostly hand passing through mine as it lay on my lap, chilling me. “You’re all I have, lass.”

Despite the urgency in his voice, I was hesitant for reasons that should have been obvious. I stared down at the three cards on the bed once again, reinterpreting the reading as The Knight of Swords representing John, the Death card — for the first time in one of my readings — representing his literal death, and the Three of Swords representing his boyfriend’s subsequent heartbreak. There are always multiple ways to interpret the cards in every situation; you just have to move through it and see what fits—a little like grief.

I looked back at him with an expression of resignation on my face. “You’re lucky I like you.”

His face lit up. “So you’ll do it?”

I sighed, coming to terms with the decision I was about to make. “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Sorry I called ye childish,” he said apologetically.

“Mm.”

“Yer beau’iful,” he tried again.

I gave him a grin. “Aww, how kind of you to say.”

“Yes, I am kind. Now you compliment me.”

“Why should I when you just did it yourself?”

He chuckled before his expression sobered. “Thank you, Evangeline. I cannae repay the favor you’re doin’ me.”

I looked back at him, noting how similar our eyes were. “You can owe me in the next life, how’s that?”

“Sounds like a fair deal. So, are ye gonna clean up this mess?”

“Sorry, you’ll have to clean yourself up.”

“Funny.”

I leaned down and started to gather my fallen tarot cards, picking out carpet lint and hairs occasionally as I stacked the deck.

”Y’know…,” he began, “ye make me wish I could’ve met you while I was livin’. Think we coulda been friends?”

Deck neatly in hand, I looked up at him, a warm, bittersweet feeling blossoming inside my chest. “Yeah, I think we could’ve been. Could still be.”

He laughed. “Well, bein’ friends with me is a blessing in itself.”

“I’m sure it is.”

We headed out by taxi to John’s old flat to see his boyfriend, Simon. Simon Riley. I turned the name over in my mind as we drove, wondering what kind of man he was. It was odd traveling in a car with a complete stranger, knowing that you have a ghost with you. I kept looking at the driver in the rearview mirror, paranoid that he’d be able to see John, but aside from my own awkwardness, the trip concluded uneventfully.

I stared at the door that I was supposed to be knocking on and felt immediately threatened, that familiar fight-or-flight feeling making my extremities tingle. “Shit. John, I can’t…”

“Easy. I’ll be right here; I won’t leave ye. But we have to get in and get to Simon, alright? The eejit’s blootered.”

I stared at him in confusion. “He’s what?”

John rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Drinkin’, hen. He’s right sloshed. Now get knockin’.”

Stepping toward the door, I looked at John and said, “I feel like your Scottish level just increased.” I wrapped my knuckles on the door before I lost my nerve and stepped back.

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think yer just too American to understand—“

The door flew open, revealing the personification of my Death card: an enormous man wearing a skull balaclava, no shirt, about one billion muscles, and an appropriately sized scowl. His displeasure was evident despite the mask covering his features. It radiated off of him in waves like heat, like the smell of alcohol that invaded my nostrils as it drifted out from him. Piercing dark eyes stared down at me briefly before squinting, and then he slammed the door in my face. I could hear his heavy footfalls retreating further into the flat. I looked at John, at a complete loss, and maybe with a bit of anxiety. Just a wee bit.

He sighed. “Knock again, Evangeline. He’ll answer.”

“Why do you not look convinced?”

“Because I’m not.”

“I appreciate your honesty. Is he gonna kill me?” I asked, somehow finding the nerve to knock again through my blooming dissociation. It was a genuine fear. What do I actually know about these guys? Not much. John hadn’t told me anything about Simon besides that they were both in the military. He most certainly didn’t tell me about how absofuckinglutely intimidating his man was; he looked like he could just break me in half with those dark brooding eyeballs of his, no hands necessary. My heart lurched, palpitating in my chest wildly like a canary in a proverbial coal mine.

“He won’t kill ye,” John assured me and my anxiety.

Ten beats passed. Nothing.

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus,” John said in frustration and then disappeared through the wall of the flat. I could hear him swearing and yelling, all in vain. He emerged, raking a hand through his mohawk in irritation. When his eyes finally locked with mine, a silent plea filled them.

I didn’t like that look on John’s face; the pain and concern etched there was almost a tangible thing, and it hurt. It made me feel edgy and a bit unstable, as if the ground beneath me wasn’t as sturdy as I believed before coming out here. I stepped up and knocked again, louder, more insistent. For him.

This time, I could hear the lumbering stomps of Simon’s gait as he approached the door to the flat, and I braced myself for whatever might come. My hair sucked forward from the sudden vacuum the door caused, and I nearly expected the door to be ripped from its hinges, such was the velocity at which the door opened. I hadn’t stepped back, but Jesus, I wished that I had.

“The fuck do you want?” Simon’s voice was a low growl, his thick British accent raking across me like a physical attack.

There was that small animal voice in the back of my head as I looked up at the angry behemoth at the door, which said, with zero doubt, “You are going to die.” He braced a forearm on the doorframe, leaning in closer. My eyes widened fractionally with every millimeter that decreased between us. Shit.

“Um… A-are you Simon? Simon Riley?”

He blinked at me with unfocused eyes. He’d been drinking heavily as he reeked of alcohol, which was wonderful for me because we all know that drunk people are totally predictable. “Who’s askin’?”

My eyes flicked to John, who stood beside the door, nodding encouragingly. “M-my name is Evangeline. I’m here about John—"

“Johnny,” John — or Johnny — corrected me.

“Johnny?” I glanced at my ghostly companion, who nodded.

Simon narrowed his eyes. “The fuck you on about?”

“Look, I know this will sound crazy, but he sent me here with a message.” This was a bit of a stretch since, now that I thought about it, Johnny didn’t actually give me a message for Simon.

“So, what, you’re a bloody fortune teller?” Simon asked, his gravelly voice seething with bitter outrage.

Shit shit shit shit shit. “No, that’s not—“ I started, taking a defensive step backward, but he barreled on.

“What the fuck do you want here?”

“Johnny wanted me to—“

I had little time to react before he picked me up by my jacket lapels and slammed me against his door, the air quickly evicted from my lungs. The back of my head stung as I looked in horror at him.

“Johnny doesn’t want anything. He’s fucking dead.”

I froze under his gaze, which was both hateful and wounded, the cold rush of adrenaline coursing through my bloodstream.

Johnny interjected in a panic, “The first thing I ever said to him was, ‘I’ll save you a seat, sir.’ Tell him!”

I could feel my throat starting to close up. I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe.

“Shit.” Johnny rushed forward, moving through Simon, trying to get him to loosen his grip, but it was useless. Next, he passed through me, my body feeling the chill of his presence, a strange, otherworldly shiver as suddenly, my mouth moved.

“LT, let ‘er go.” The voice was mine, but the inflection and the speaker was Johnny.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #soap cod #simon riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soap x ghost #tarot #female oc #female original character #spirit medium

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imflyinoveryou · 3 months

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living with em just has me in this irrational , constant oscillation of idealization and genuine resentment and it’s not fair to them nor myself.. i can’t wait to put space between us ! and i can’t wait to have clarity that brings far more love into my relationships with them.

#and everytime i start to feel like they stole my life from me i gotta remember that like; while unfair; they kinda needed me more than i #i needed to (have a life) as dumb as that sounds #cause now they’re still the same broken people and i actually have all the chances in the world that they never did #and that is so fucking heartbreaking cause they deserve the world you know #so i can’t hate them for not knowing how to be parents. they never stood a chance #idk it feels like all of my sacrifices were in vain bc they’re still struggling but at the same time #they’re sincerely healing in real time. it’s cool to see.#it’s all on their own accord though i have had no part to play in that #and it took me all this time to realize it?#im so angry that they molded me into such an obedient and quiet kid who was too scared to do anything for myself #and they never actually needed me but they convinced me and themselves that they did #and I’ve missed out on so much life. granted I am so young and no one is truly responsible but myself for falling for that bullshit #im just grieving. and there’s a lot to grieve man.#anyways I’m gonna go shopping muahahaha

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demonbarberofbeepbeep · 2 months

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morning toddheads

#look he did have fun #he liked it #*walter white voice* he liked it. he was good at it #you know what i do think he loved her a little bit too #final scene is so sad #everything faaaaalllllsss apaaaart #i guess when i say i don't think sweenett is love #i do think they love each other in their ways #but the lie about lucy is so enormous #so central #to have lucy still alive and badly needing help #and have nellie continuously hide that from a man who is GRIEVING HIS WIFE #and trying to avenge her #it bothers me a lot #so i think the betrayal at her lying to him is multifold #it's not just you LIED to me #it's YOU lied to me #i thought you were on my side #all our confidences and tender moments had this lie beneath it #who are you #even #idk. i'm writing my fanfic and im in my feelings #their relatinoship is so complicated #what is love anyway #WHAT IS IS LOVE #baby don't throw me in the oven #in the oven #anymore #text post meme #sweenett

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orcelito · 9 months

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FANTASTIC NEWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i finished & posted the ITNL 14 re-edits, WHICH MEANS!!!!!!!!!!!!! i'm officially done with my re-edits project!!!!!!!!!! :D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ive been thinking a lot today about my plans for ITNL 15, AND i have tomorrow off, so if all goes well i'll be able to start writing again. TOMORROW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and if the chapter grips me like i expect it will then... hehehehehe

could be an update in as little as a few days, depending. i'll keep u guys updated

#speculation nation #itnl shit #im SO fucking ecstatic man ive been looking forward to this for a month and a half #that took SO much longer than i was expecting it to. but i guess editing 75k words while working full time is kind of a lot #it has been a journey. and it is now complete.#and now i can move on to the NEW THINGS!!!!!!!!! INCLUDING a chapter id been looking forward to for So Long #it's for the best that i went thru the whole fic again. itnl 14 was so hard to write bc i was just Not that mentally there with it #and also uh. The Everything.#i think 15 will be easier. MUCH easier. and im really looking forward to having proper writing motivation again.#AND......... IF ALL GOES WELL.............. i'll hopefully be able to ride that motivation train through the next few chapters #Which Means we could be seeing wolfwood in as little as a few weeks!!! maybe!!!!!!!!#i hope so !!!!!!!!!!! i wanna write him SO fucking bad #and like itnl IS a vw fic. it IS. i SWEAR. it's just mostly been grieving and pining from vash so far lksdjflsdjkfsdlkf #but it will have actual vw. eventually.#im like practically vibrating now but i need to go to sleep. so i can have the brain strength to write tomorrow hehehe #i took a melatonin to hopefully knock myself out soon. i GOTTA get some good rest tonight. for the Writing Brain.#and if i daydream about the start of next chapter.... hehehehe #more power to me then :]

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sheilaerinniperonista · 6 months

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it was a small passing comment in the story but when its mentioned Sheila saw her dog get beaten to death when she was a kid and it made her feel like humankind was just like that (+ her sister's murder afterwards cementing that worldview)... augh.

#fugo.txt #like. idk i feel like im repeating myself but i cant stress this shit enough man. she was just a little girl #she was like 10 #damn.#and like by that point she had already very much gone thru a lot of death. her parents were gone and the only family she had was her sister #and the only friend she had was her dog.#and then they both died. and she saw them die. right after the other. and then she was completely alone #idk looking at it thru that lense its not surprising at all that she decided to do all that. she was grieving and she didn't have anyone-#-to guide her in that. and the only logical progression she could fathom is that whoever killed her sister should suffer the same.#and deep down she knows she's doing this for herself because she doesn't KNOW what else to do. and she feels guilty. what would clara even-#think of her? and even if she's all oh illuso is dead and he suffered. so she can rest easy. you can SEE she never got any closure at all.#thats why she froze up when fighting against kocaqi. his sister also died right in front of him. but he did what she couldnt do #he gave her peace of mind. he gave her a dignified death. she died happy. clara didnt. and sheila can NEVER give that to her #all she can do is posthumously give her peace by murdering her murderer. but would Clara want that?#ugh man. its 2:30 am i should be sleeping i have a class to retake at 11:50 #but. man..#please take the time to think of her tjis december

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scattered-winter · 11 months

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horrifying self recognition through the other aside this has been an actually not terrible start to The Family Gathering tbh

#my cousin who i havent really seen in a while came up to me and asked abt my pronouns because i came out to the fam a while ago #and he didnt really remember what id said (which. fair. its a big family w lots of things to remember)#and so he asked what my pronouns were and i told him and he promised that if he ever messed up i needed to make him #do like 5 or 10 pushups lmao #and ngl. its the sweetest thing anyone in this family has ever said to me abt that #everyone else has kinda just. moved on. and either forgotten that im not a girl or purposefully ignoring it.#and idk maybe i should stand up for myself a little more but ive been practically a doormat all my life #and idk. its hard using my voice and establishing boundaries when ive let ppl bulldoze over me for almost 20 years.#sigh. anyway.#im gonna be thinking about that all day tbh it was genuinely so sweet #and i am also being consumed by The Loneliness again <3 #just. i want someone to just talk to about all this??? someone who isnt in my family because they all have stakes in it too?????#we're all grieving. i aint special.#i just want to talk to someone about it in person so they can hold my hand while i cry myself to sleep because ngl #thats what it looks like we're doing tonight #im just. tired of feeling alone in this enormous family where it seems like im the only odd man out #and also ykw the Not Having Any Irl Friends loneliness too. thats also pretty significant.#not saying my internet friends arent great i love yall so so so much but it has just been .#a really really long time since ive had a good cry n hug session w someone.#sigh. im tired i need to go to bed #winter speaks #personal

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rat-tomago · 1 year

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*gritting my teeth so hard they shatter* Im Not Crying. You Are.

#marcel.aud #music #i miss my mom i wanna go home but only see her #i also miss my grandma a lot likr a lot a lot and. i feel weirdly selfish 4 feeling tht way #like im not allowed 2 grieve this muc #but liek man. i have felt completely hopeless since january whenshe died #literally nothing has felt real since then #i just feel like im stalling 4 time until i die #Spotify

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axeltornadoes · 9 months

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I impulsively cleaned up my room, uncovered some old stuff, and got hit with melancholic nostalgia real hard... :[

I hope everyone I've ever had the pleasure if meeting is doing alright out there, genuinely. Even if we don't cross paths again, I hope the best for you!!

#I miss a lot of people man #but overthinking + social anxiety + rejection dysphoria has a vice grip on me #so I will just... write this silly little tumblr post instead #its still scary doing so #bc im sitting here like #omg what if someone I existed with before sees this and thinks I'm rude for not even trying to reach out #but man #i have to remind myself that this is the internet #i can post whatever i feel like posting in MY space yknow #plus uh. still grieving over losing lots of people I held close this year #i am in no shape to try and step out to rekindle things just yet #one day I will #its just not anytime soon haha #anywho #sunny chirps #vent #i guess this counts as a vent??? maybe?? tagged it as such anyways

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instantarmageddon · 11 months

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You know as a kid with Behavioral Issues™️ who's dad would grab them and shake them and threaten to beat them in public for doing Normal Kid Things I don't really remember the specific things he would yell at me, but I do remember looking to other adults for help and watching them pretend not to see me.

#VIVIDLY remember the face adults would make when they Averted Their Eyes #if they acknowledged the situation it was to commend my dad for 'keeping me in line'#for the record i only ever actually got hit a handful of times #but he would grab me and pinch me in ways that would hurt but not leave marks #like i would throw a fit over something stupid because i was 9 and it would turn into this fiasco where im sobbing snot running down my face #with a grown man standing over me threatening to spank me in the dairy aisle #while tim the milk man pretends he cant hear me begging to just be left alone #bc being quiet wasnt enough! he would get in my face and yell at me to smile so everyone knew i was okay!#that i wasnt being abused and i was fine!! smile right now before they get the wrong idea!!!!!#and like my mom didnt give a shit #shes totally checked out. she to this day swears days like this never happened and im exaggerating for attention #but i fucking remember man! i felt so fucking SMALL #i was like this lunatic is gonna fucking kill me and no one will care #bc like only a couple of times was enough to know that he was more than capable of hurting me! when he said im gonna beat you black and blue #i believed him!!#i used to think that i was the worst most evil child to ever exist. i thought i was the literal antichrist for a bit #and looking back i was just a small child who was grieving and needed someone to talk to #dont even get me started on the fucked up shit he used to say to me. like ive repeated it to people #and they just straight up dont believe it bc its so vile #and a lot of times there were witnesses!!#no one in our society gives two shits about children and thats why so many adults are so fucked up #anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk #i saw something fucked up today that i couldn't do anything about and now im having some sort of breakdown about it

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star-ocean-peahen · 1 year

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so that guy just never really cared about any of us. huh. he should not be teaching fucking children then.

#fuck you man #mimimimi ''ruth chose to grieve Right unlike naomi who chose to grieve Wrong''#mimimimimi ''pregnancy isn't painful and no i will not listen to anyone in this room who disagrees with me i will just continue #to dig myself deeper into this hole because i can't ever leave a discussion with kids without feeling like im right and theyre wrong''#bitch. your fucking attitude is why i skipped meals.#no wait hold on i wanna tell the story-#tw religious abuse #tw religion #tw abuse #i guess??#seems extra but my therapist said i experienced abuse and a lot of the worst shit came from him so #lassie vents #vent

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survivoirs · 2 years

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Actually the fact that W.eather W.izard didn’t pass out after creating a fucking tidal wave big enough to destroy the entire city is both terrifying and impressive.

#im really glad Barry stopped this tho #not just because of the obvious reasons but because even Mark would have felt terrible afterwards. he's blinded by his revenge #like just get this man some mood stabilizers #and he chills out a lot #but damn the things he can do with his powers when he's angry / grieving #GOD HES SUCH A COOL VILLAIN WHY DOES HE NOT GET MORE EPISODES IM GONNA RIOT AGAIN #anyways people should write with him he's interesting

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orcelito · 11 months

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even glancing at stuff in trimax volume 10 sent my gut wrenching & i had to flip away from it fucking Quick but the volumes after that sent me fucking wild

i think im gonna reread all the stuff post-volume 10 again. probably necessarily considering i read all of it on like no sleep after an inadvisable all nighter & trigun binge which Included me reading volume 10 and fucking bawling my eyes out 5 times

yea. i missed some things. also i just rly fucking love this part of the story so Yea

also just. look at him. Look at him. this is one of my favorite fuckign panels. i need to experience this agan. i need it sooo fucking badly

im gonna reread it. soon.

#speculation nation #trigun spoilers/#itnl shit #it's also like. itnl vash is late trimax vash sent back in time. THIS is the vash i need to be paying most attention to for characterizatio #though he's already picked up more experiences. he's a little different from back then. a lil mellowed out yet a little Not #the pressure of everything has certainly changed him. and so did 4.5 years of solitude.#not like it had a massive change on him. but it was still time he spent thinking and thinking and thinking #time spent grieving and planning and dreaming. so much fucking time.#so yeah he Is a little different than he is in late trimax. and he will Continue to change.#bc that's how it goes when you experience things.#man... late trimax vash feels so... aching. to me. he's just fucking Aching. his every smile looks so sad.#and of course. of Course. this is immediately after Everything. and he's just trying to push himself on. focus on his purpose #if given time to think and grieve... what would things be like? what would it be like if he had to process all of this Alone?#that's what itnl is. a vash that was beginning to change but Because Of Circumstances he went back into his shell #struggles to depend on anyone bc it feels like there's no one he Can depend on for this. not truly.#he's leaning on Luida now for logistics and help with his plans. but Emotional help? he doesnt fucking have that #gonna have to relearn leaning on people. Yeah . yeah...#im having a lot of Vash Thoughts tonight. help

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wyllsravengard · 3 months

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there's a lot of discussion and speculation about the fact john doesn't speak of arthur in rdr1. logistically it's not hard to understand that rdr1 just came out years before rdr2 and thats why but . But.

but when you think of rdr1 with the additional context two, there is something quite... in line with john trying to forget arthur. wanting to. or burying him. not just in metaphor or in soil but in his memories and in some way failing to do it but in another succeeding

you think of john and his commitment to his son and wife and you think of his willingness to do anything for them. moral or not. righteous or not. and you think of the fact that john didn't know at the time the sort of man arthur believed him to be, but he perhaps modeled himself in the image of his older brother. near incidental. he has so little in common with arthur really. john's broody and lacking remorse and at twenty-six he's inconsiderate entirely in a way arthur never was.

but time is a thief and one day, he turns 38. he's older than arthur when he dies. and john doesn't remember well what he looks like, and all he can feel when he thinks of arthur is grief. grief that never ends. thats the thing about all of it, you'll realize - is that john knows arthur best in the retroactive.

the sort of complicated, odd man arthur was revealed to him in the creases of pages and keepsakes. in the carving of his guns that john finds after arthur is gone. in the ring of the woman arthur loved long ago. in the confessionals to his son isaac and the regret in the letters he wrote to their psuedo father. you realize john knows more of arthurs stagnant ghost that can't guide john into manhood the way he so desperately needs. and it's all he has to go by to make a man of himself.

john never finds out what kind of man arthur believed him to be and he has to infer the real good man arthur was. in grief there is love. john loved arthur enough to want to be like him. and in burying the living, breathing man arthur was he's forced to cling to his spirit. has to piece together the kindness of his older brother through memories and diary entries and secondhand stories. and that's how he models himself in rdr1 to me. where arthur is moral john becomes dutiful and where arthur is kind, john is helpful. he becomes the shadow of arthurs best qualities. he can never be arthur. no one could ever be arthur, even if arthur had given them the page by page instructions of how to do so. this is all he has. all he knows. all he can do.

john misses his brother. so he tries to embody him. but he can't really in the same way he can't grieve him. so he makes a home for arthurs ghost to return to in himself. john never mentions arthur because it dregs up painful what-ifs, but they share so many mannerisms and bastardized qualities. john has fashioned himself based on those loose memories.

one day, a stranger meets john and says. "why would you remember me, friend? you've forgotten far more important people than me" and john will remember all the ghosts he's ever loved briefly. there will be a blurry face and a forgiving voice and it will sound like a memory and it will linger in johns ribcage like a moth. and john won't remember. he won't. he can't. he buried his brother without ever doing it.

john says a lot of things. feels a lot of things. he shoots his gun to the stranger who calls his memory into question and the thing jams and the bastard roams free. john will taste blood in his mouth. he'll feel a cough in his lungs and well, he won't remember his brother still. buried men must stay buried.

of course. of course john never mentions arthur. he can't remember him, even though he's inherited so much of his manner. to speak it of him would be admitting to his existence. its admitting: i miss you. im sorry. it was my fault.

of course john never mentions arthur. he's made all this effort in forgetting him that even when his body and his gesture and his character betray the fact he's forgotten - his mind will soothe the pain and blur out his face.

and instead of remembering in life even once, he'll die the same way arthur did. alone. protective. contented. redeemed. john loves arthur like most brothers do - with muscle memory.

even if john cuts the necrosis of arthurs memory off of him, his body will twitch at the phantom feeling of his existence. john remembers even when he can't. arthur his only brother. the most important man he's ever forgotten.

#z.gen #arthur morgan #john marston #rdr1 #rdr2 #rdr1 spoilers #rdr2 spoilers #im feeling soooooo miserable about them you wouldnt believe

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ohthewh0rror · 8 months

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NOVEMBER.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ prompt — A sneak peak into a random day with your boyfriend.

Pairing: Tom R. x Reader / Matteo R. X Reader / Theo Nott x Reader / Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

TOM R.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself one final look over. Finding nothing out of place, you stood there and just stared at your reflection for a minute. Today was always difficult for you, a day you both dreaded and looked forward to. Today was the second Saturday of the month, the day you reserved for visiting your little sister's grave. It’s a tradition you’ve held since she passed away 3 years ago.

For a long time you didn’t tell Tom about what you did, not wanting anyone else there while you grieved, but you finally came clean last week. Tom was someone you were very serious about and it was time he knew, you didn’t invite him, and you doubt he remembered, so you didn’t have any expectations of him going with you.

Still, it hurt a little that he wasn’t there. You knew his job took up a lot of his time, but you were hoping he’d make an excuse to leave for the day and be there for you. Swallowing your disappointment, you apparated to your family cemetery, just outside the gates. As the world came into focus you saw that you weren’t alone. There stood Tom, flowers in hand, waiting outside the gates for you. You walked up to him, tears already threatening to cloud your vision.

“You remembered…” your voice trailed off, biting the inside of your cheek to try and keep your composure. Tom gave you a slight smile, holding his hand out for you to take, “of course I remembered, it’s important to you, so now it’s important to me too.”

Taking his hand, you walked in with him, beginning to tell him about her.

DRACO M.

“Give me my shirt back,” Draco's voice sounded defeated as you held the shirt hostage behind your back. I knew this game wouldn’t last long, Draco was much taller, and though you hated to admit it, faster than you as well. Despite being at a disadvantage you couldn’t help but want to tease him.

Was it really so bad to want your shirtless boyfriend to chase after you? You didn’t think so.

“Y/N…” there was a warning in the way he said your name. A warning that you were in for it if you didn’t return his shirt. But, instead of scaring you, his voice sent a thrill up your spine. Your heart raced as you bit your lip, anticipating what was in store for you. You shook your head no, and took a slow step back.

Draco stared at you for a beat before rushing towards you. A high-pitched squeal left you as you turned, bolting towards the door. You’d only made it two feet out the door of his dorm when Draco’s arms wrapped around your waist, flinging you over his shoulder. “N-no! Put me down!” You exclaimed through hysterical laughter, fist hitting his back.

“You had your chance to do the right thing,” Draco told you, walking back into his dorm, the door slamming shut and locking behind the two of you.

MATTHEO R.

Mattheo wasn’t sure what to say to you that wouldn’t further piss you off. He knew you didn’t like when he let his jealousy cause issues, especially on nights that were supposed to be for going out and having a good time. But, when he returned with your drinks and saw a nameless wizard flirting with you, all he felt was the flames of red-hot anger sizzling away any rational thoughts he had.

Mattheo kept his cool as walked up to the two of you. He could tell the wizard was annoyed by his interruption, but the man didn’t say anything to him. Mattheo set your drink down in front of you before placing a chaste kiss on your lips. Mattheo could see you about to say something as soon as he pulled away, but before you got the chance to try and ease Mattheo’s anger, he had picked his own drink up, throwing it in the man’s face.

Tightening his grip on the heavy glass mug, while the man was temporarily blinded by alcohol, Mattheo swung and hit the man in the face. The man cried, falling back onto his ass, grabbing his face. Immediately, Mattheo was on top of the man, mug gone, settling on hitting him with his fist. Mattheo heard you yelling for him to stop, before he felt a spell hit his shoulder, knocking him off the man.

Now, after being kicked out and forced to calm down, Mattheo busied himself kicking rocks as you two walked to an apparation point. “Why did you have to do that, Mattheo?!” You sounded pissed, but at least you were talking to him now. “Because he had the audacity to flirt with my wife!” Mattheo exclaimed, trying to defend himself. You stopped, a look of disbelief on your face, “mattheo…really? We aren’t even married.”

“Yet.” Mattheo mumbled, not being able to bring himself to look at you, instead busing himself with pebbles again. You scoffed, walking off, leaving behind.

“Y/N! Wait!”

THEO N.

Theo was a big baby when he was sick. He didn’t get sick often, but you truly hated when it did happen. He was clingy and whiny, wanting all your attention. Which is how you ended up in bed with a sick Theo.

There was no doubt you were going to be sick tomorrow, Theo’s long limbs entangled with yours under the sheets. His head, clammy and hot to the touch resting on your chest, as you played with his soft brown hair. You felt bad as you heard his chest rattling with every breath. “Do you need anything?” You asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Theo looked at you, chin resting on your chest, “can I have a kiss?”.

It took everything in you not to laugh in his face. That’s really what he wanted? No potion, no water, no soup, but instead a kiss? This man was something else. “Baby, I don’t want to get sick myself,” you told him. Though, you both knew that you were already doomed. Theo laid his head back down on your chest, but his head craned backwards, his lips puckered.

Tapping his puckered lips, teasing you, he waited for you to plant a kiss on him. You let out a laugh in disbelief, but gave in, giving him peck. Content, he cuddled back into you, falling asleep.

He’s lucky you love him.

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fairuzfan · 3 months

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As an american myself I can understand why people are so scared that arab-americans are refusing to vote for biden since im terrified of what trump will do to our country. I very much feel forced to choose between two very evil people where i have to choose who will probably do less overall damage. But yelling at arab-americans isnt the right move. Im terrified at what decisions ill have to make with voting, but its not like all arab-americans who refuse to vote for biden are trump supporters and in fact many of them were going to vote for biden before october 7. I dont know what we should do about voting, but yelling at grieving arab-americans who cant bring themselves to vote for biden when biden helped kill their family is just wrong. I get the fear, i really do because i feel it too, but that doesnt make it right.

Like as a disabled person I'm pretty nervous about trump presidency ngl. I need meds that allow me to function on a day to day basis. But I cannot in good conscious vote for the man that killed my family's loved ones. Not to give too much info but a family member's best friend was Heba Abu Nada... when they learned of her death they cried for three days straight and asked me not to say any news about Palestine for a week back in October. Even when I told them that Heba's poem became viral, they just nodded at me and said "a lot of talented people in Gaza died" before going quiet, staring out in the distance. That's something that will stay with me for the rest of my life and I can't bare to think of voting for the man that caused that amount of sorrow to anyone. So imagine every single Palestinian family — they all have their own stories and their own grief. So telling them "that means absolutely nothing" and being told to suck it up isn't going to make anyone want to trust you that you have people's best interests in heart. I don't know. It just is so so obvious how little people care about other people and to me that's the most.... shocking thing.

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lixxpix · 2 months

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our lost love - h.hj

genre: angst, break-up

tw: lots and lots and lots of angst, kinda sad ending:<

synopsis: "this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances. "i'm sorry."

author's note: this was so sad but i got randomly inspired out of nowhere lol>< reblogs and likes r appreciated!

you could feel hyunjin slipping away from you, through the cracks of your fingers. and you tried, you really did. grasping and trying to hold on desperately to his hands as he slipped out of your grasp. out of your world. he would never acknowledge it, of course. he would never want to hurt you. he loved you, but wasn't in love with you. but you, ever the observer, could see the way his eyes gazed upon you with fondness but had lost their sparkle reserved for only you in the past. you could sense him closing up, dropping a quick peck on your forehead when he came home with a 'hi baby.' but it was never like the affectionate, loving kiss he always gave you in the past, taking his time to talk about his day and cuddle with you, never the deep conversations you two would have until 2am in the morning. you used to envision a future with him, a quiet family with one or two kids and a happy life, but deep down you knew that dream would probably never come to fruition. and it hurt. so, so, bad. countless hours spent sniffling into the pillow as you grieved for the inevitable loss of your love, your muse for the past 3 years. but for now, you would cling onto the last moments as if they were your lifeline, and wait until that fateful day when your nightmare would morph with reality.

hwang hyunjin knew he was falling out of love. he loved you, as a companion. the kind of person he would want to grow old with, the kind that would stick by his side through the years. but his spark, his passion for you had died down, from a once burning fire to a flickering flame in the candlelight, a familiar and comforting warmth yet not warm enough to heat the room. he tried so hard to fall in love with you again. memorised your every detail, tried to take you out on dates. but each time, he never felt that passion reignite. he would always love you as a friend, a companion and partner. you brought a certain warmth into his life. but hyunjin was a fiery person. if you were water, he was fire. he couldn't live without passion, without the burning heat that threatened to consume him. hyunjin felt so, so guilty, each time he came back late to see you asleep on the couch after waiting for him, each time you gazed at him with so much love and adoration that he knew he couldn't give back. hyunjin knew he had fallen out of love, yet couldn't bring himself to break your heart and break the perfect life he had been living with you for the past three years. so he would wait until the day when he knew the time was right and inevitably have to leave, leaving in his wake behind two broken hearts.

"this is the end, isn't it?" you asked, the both of you tangled up in bed with your fingers interlocked. a bittersweet smile rested on your lips, yet your eyes were brimming with tears and unspoken grievances.

"im sorry." hyunjin could only muster those two words, his heart breaking when he finally saw you close your eyes with a sigh, a lone tear trickling down your face.

"i know, just... hold me one last time." you breathed, fingers grazing his cheek and your eyes searched the eyes of the man you had once loved. no, you still loved him.

a part of you always would, no matter who you were with in the future. one day, you would look back on all of this with a smile and thank him for the memories, the moments that made you who you were. one day, your heart would expand to fit for another that you loved, the love for hyunjin remaining in a small corner of your mind. you would leave a piece of the old you in his heart, and he would leave a piece of him in you, but as time would pass and so would you grow into a new person, the old you simply just a stepping stone into the new chapter of your life. the memories made with hyunjin would always be moments to look back upon fondly, smiling wistfully for the happiness you experienced with him. you would always love hwang hyunjin, you supposed. a person never forgets the people they had loved. if someone were to ask you if you had regretted those three years, you would reply without hesitation a definite 'no'.

"thank you for letting me love and live."

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #angst #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #drabble #skz imagines #hwang hyunjin #skz angst

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