#they all get to know peace in life and not death
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The Ex and Why's
Summary: No one knows much about Simon’s life aside from what was listed on his files. The family that had died a tragic death, the trauma that came with his actions, and the rank that made him what he was today. No one had realized that behind the balaclava wearing man from Manchester was a man that once had a heart and signed divorced papers he had constantly regretted signing all those years ago..
Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Ex Wife!Reader. John Price. Kate Laswell. Johnny "Soap" MacTavish. Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Word Count: 9,787
Chapter Warnings: Angst with Happy Ending. Miscommunication. Mention of Minor Character Deaths. Mention of Divorce. Life threatening Injuries. Mention of Simon's tragic past and trauma. Not edited (sorry!)
AN: I can now sleep in peace. If you enjoyed it why not visit my mini celebration and post your own requests I can write just like this.
Masterlist || Request are Open || 500 Followers Celebration
When you had learned about this new job, one thing you had so gotten used to doing was letting Simon know about it. But not this time, something about letting him back into your life wasn’t something you should do anymore. You were no longer married to him by your own choice and no one else’s. So you know it was time to wear your big girl pants now and stopped letting him know about it.
You no longer had any reason to give your ex-husband any updates about your life. A more selfish reason was how you just wanted to start a new life, away from him and away from anything that was related to him.
“Ms. Riley?”
You turned smiling at the man that would now be your new boss. You learned his name to be John Price, a Captain.
Being married to a man like Simon Riley once upon a time, you know some thing or two about what goes on inside of a military base. Even when he hasn’t talked much about it with you during your relationship or if he even gone as far as mention your existence to the people he had once worked with. You chalked it up to overprotectiveness and fear that they would get to you, and some night thing that he was simply embarrassed about you. Maybe it’s another reason why you had opted out of telling him about this new job of yours.
“Captain Price, it’s good to finally meet you.” You firmly shook the man’s hand. A good first impression was the best thing for you to do if it meant making sure you work for the man for the foreseeable future.
“Likewise, Laswell as spoke great things about you and I’m hoping to be able to experience it firsthand.”
You nodded with a smile. Working for Kate’s wife for nearly a few years beforehand, you had appreciated the suggestion for this new role as a secretary for the Captain ever since your divorce. She had understood you needed this change in pace in your life and this was much of a welcome change.
“I do hope it’s all good things.” You quipped right back earning a deep resonating chuckle from the older man.
“Well I think now that introductions as over and done with, let me show you to my office. I do hope you’re up for dealing with a handful of documents for me on your first day.”
“More than happy to.” You beamed following the man, his larger hand holding onto the small of your back as you began your journey into the heart of the base.
All throughout the walk, he was giving your directions to where most things were. You were warned how some men could be rowdy at time and he was more than happy to help in the off chance that any of his men would give you problems.
All you could do was smile, not wanting him to know that you were more than well equipped to punch or kick anyone that would get too handsy with you. One of the perks of having an ex-husband working for the military.
He continued on with how things go around in the base. Schedules for meal time and the curfew in the event that you would be staying in the base overnight. He had also showed you to where your new room would be located in.
“You would be a few rooms away from my own as well as the Lieutenant and Sergeants that I trust most. In the event that I’m unavailable, they will be more than willing to lend you a hand if you need it.”
You nodded before you finally arrived in his office. Opening the door for you, you were greeted with a spacious office. Even in the chaos of the military base, the man’s office was pristine, a few knick knacks and photos that littered his walls, as well as a bookshelf that housed an array of military strategies books. But the most alarming thing about his office was the other table that housed stack upon stacks of folders, papers practically spilling out from each and every single one of them.
“I may or may not have underestimated the help I truly need in this situation.” The Captain said sheepishly as you began opening the folders and gasped that most of them weren’t even ordered correctly even with the page numbers printed on them.
“I think I can manage this.” You blinked hoping you didn’t bite more than you could chew in this moment.
For the next few hours, your time was spent removing staplers upon staplers from the papers for each and every single one of the folders while you were inquiring to John the calls you would be fielding for him from now on and how he would want you to deal with it.
You had learned so much about the man in the few hours being in the same room as him. He was a man that wanted to ensure the safety of the world, even if it meant bloodying his hands up a little just to make sure of it. It showed with some of the missions reports that you may or may not have accidentally read too much into. You’ve also learned how much he hated talking to upper ranking officials if not needed, he was a man that hated authority yet he was working in the field that he was in right now from the way his comments about letting calls from upper ranks go to voice mail if possible.
“Will there be anything or anyone that I should be worried about for now?” You inquired making sure that you did not stir anyone in the wrong way if possible.
“I’m sure Laswell has told you enough to understand our work. Some men are more scarred than sane and if possible, I want you to make sure that you do not give anyone the wrong impression if possible.”
You know what he was implying and with your own experience you know far too well that getting yourself involved with another man in uniform would lead into.
“I’ve done my fair share, Captain. I don’t think that would be much of a problem with me.” You reassured him.
“Laswell told me you were divorced.” He began, huh, who would have thought the man would be the gossiping type.
“It’s been a few years,” You shrugged attention solely on rearranging the files at hand. “It took months before my ex-husband signed the papers, I wanted to think it was because he was deployed but I knew otherwise.” You muttered.
When you had made the decision to finally break things off with Simon, it was like pulling teeth with the man and his near avoidance about the discussion or where you would be sending the divorce papers. You had enough of it, leaving the home you once shared instead with everything you owned and left nothing more of you than the divorce papers alongside the wedding ring and engagement ring he had given you all those years ago.
“He was military too?”
“Something like that.” You nodded not wanting to think too much about the man. Even after everything, you still worried about you giving the man too much information in the event that he works for the opposing side if the chance may have it.
“Well his lost is my gain.” He snorts turning his attention back to the freshly arranged folders courtesy of you that were now ready for his signature. “No offense.”
“None taken, Captain.”
Eventually the man had excused himself for a meeting and had instructed you that no one would be allowed inside aside from him. He had also reminded you about lunch which you could head on out first or you could join him once his meeting was done. You’ve decided it would be best to join him for lunch for now, just to get a feeling of anyone that you would get into contact with on your first day.
With a quick goodbye, you were left on your own and you all but groaned at the folders still stacked up and yet to be touched. It truly made you wonder how the man could be so good in his job yet be so horrible with his paperwork. You will never understand.
Your eyes fixated for a moment on one of the pictures on the wall. It was your boss with three individuals. A blue eyed man with a horrible cut Mohawk but the biggest beaming smile on his face, his arm wrapped around a much younger man with darker skin but a bright eyes that twinkled with happiness for whatever was going on when the photo was taken. But amongst the camaraderie and enjoyment was a man in a skull balaclava mask that had such an empty but somehow familiar eyes, the man stuck out like a sore thumb even with the Captain’s hand resting on the taller man’s shoulder and beaming smile and a cigar between his lips. It was an odd mix of people but it was like family—it made you miss Simon for a moment before your attention got right back to the paperworks.
You can’t think of him now. Not anymore.
After the events of Las Almas, Simon Riley had truly fought the urge to call you, to tell you how much you mean the world to him and how he was now more than willing to give you the compromise you had always longed from him. But a part of him, the bigger and much darker part of him had refused, slamming his own phone onto the wall in the sheer anger of everything that had occurred in the moment. You had made your choice because of his own action and he would be cruel to take that away from you.
“Heard Cap had a new Secretary, old man’s gonna finally keep his paperworks in check now.” Soap had ruining Simon’s sulking in the cafeteria.
It’s been a grueling few days. With new recruits he was forced to deal with in the morning and nightmares that you no longer could vanish for him at night. His life was nothing more than misery personified and he has no one else to blame but himself.
“Can’t say I’m surprise. Laswell probably set it up for him.” Simon muttered being more than within earshot when he heard both Laswell and Price arguing about the man’s need for necessary help with files. It was Laswell’s decision above anything else, it’s just a matter of time if the secretary would actually last with how everything goes around here in the base.
“Still, hope we’ll have a new bonnie around. Getting sick and tired of seeing Bampots all around.”
Simon didn’t even had the energy to question the man’s slangs, his attention solely back on his cup of tea and lunch—how horrible it was compared to your cup and cooking, but he never truly appreciated it until it was gone. His tea was too bitter even with the sugar and cream he added and the food that didn’t have the special kick compared to your own cooking. Even years after the divorce he was still so miserable without you in his life.
“Steamin Jesus.”
Simon could practically hear Soap melt from where he sat in front of him, his eyes directed at whoever was behind Simon. His curiosity got the better of him and his head turned and he was welcomed with the last person he would have ever believed to be walking besides one John Price.
“Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.” Soap pointed out breaking Simon from his trance.
“English, MacTavish.”
“You look a lil’ pale, Lt. Like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
Simon could have at this point. As you walked besides Price towards the table he sat in. He noticed how unaware you were even at the sight of him only for him to realize that you had never seen him with his mask on, or in anything that has to do with his line of work—until now.
“Right, I think it’s time to introduce this lovely lass.” Price cleared his throat but he should have known by now that both Simon and Soap’s attention were already on them both. “This is Y/N Riley, my new secretary.”
Simon’s brows rose at that little tidbit. You still had his last name. He understood to a degree why you did so—your family that you had long cut off from your life after what they had done to you, but after everything that had happened between the two of you he wouldn’t have expect you to choose the lesser of two evils—being his last name.
“Riley? She a sister or wife to you, Lt?” Soap’s quick remark earned him a glare from Simon before his attention was back to you, how your brows furrowed before your eyes finally widen in realization.
“Purely coincidence.” Simon muttered.
“This is Sgt. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish and Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.” Price introduced almost realizing at this point the similarity of the last name you both shared in this moment.
“Nice to meet you two.” You smiled, quickly to compose yourself and shaking both men’s hand.
Even with the glove Simon wore, he could still feel the all too familiar electric shock of your touch against his own. He looked at you how easy your eyes dilated at his touch. It scared him still how you had so much of an effect on him even after the years apart from each other.
As you and Price excused yourselves to get lunch, it left Simon wondering if this was the world finally punishing him for everything he has done in his cruel life. Give him the very thing he had wanted the most only to pull it away at every instance.
“Bloody fucking hell.”
It’s been two weeks since you’ve began your new job as Captain John Price’s secretary. Two weeks since you had tried and succeeded in making sure you had avoided the man known in the base as Ghost—or to you, simply known as Simon Riley, your ex-husband. Every single instance that you were both placed in the same room (mostly in Price’s office), you both acted like you didn’t know each other, it was hard knowing just how close the man was after so long of a separation from each other.
But as much of an avoidance you’ve made for the Lieutenant, the same could not be said for the two Sergeants that had been dead set in making themselves both your companion while in the base but as well as your guard dogs from the ballsy few that would dare ask you out on a date. You appreciated the effort as much as it was not needed knowing it earned a dangerous glare from your ex in the process.
���Looks like you’re right at home.”
You jerked your head up from the files you were arranging at the voice of an all too familiar woman. A smile rested on your face at the sight of one Kate Laswell, your former boss’ wife.
“Kate.” You smiled an exhausted sigh escaping your lips at the sight of the woman. Both her and her wife had been the pair that knew what you had been through since your divorce and she was one of the two people that saw behind the façade you had decided to show the world.
“How are you holding up?” She inquired.
“Doing better.” You assured her. “Just a slight problem but nothing I can’t deal with now.”
“Oh no. Is your ex-husband bothering you again? I told you to just say the name and I’ll find some dirt on him in a heartbeat.”
You chuckled, knowing how that would be close to impossible with the man’s stand and rank in the Taskforce.
“Simon Riley.” You said instead and watched the way her eyes widen upon realization.
“Why did I not put two and two together?” She snorted realizing the small misjudgment on her part. “Does John know?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how, but in the weeks of working at the base, you had been successful enough not to let the small detail spill. It was for both of your sakes and you feared that if you told the man, you would be fired and not him, not that you would want him to choose between the two of you.
“It would be a shame if John couldn’t keep you working for him because of your past with Ghost. I’m actually able to see his files being sent to me on time for once and he’s less stress in this past week for once.”
You blushed, knowing that that was a compliment, something that was rarely spoken by one Kate Laswell in the years of working for her wife.
“I genuinely don’t want to go either.” You spoke honestly. “Even with the situation.”
“Will you keep the information to yourself for now?” She inquired. “What does Ghost think of this?”
“I haven’t talk to him since I’ve gotten here.” You spoke honestly. “And I think it would be better if don’t talk to him about it either.”
“Talk to who about?”
Both of you had jerked your head towards the owner of the voice and it was Price with your husband, Soap, and Gaz in tow. You looked panicked at Kate hoping she could help you out this predicament with the man in the very room with them.
“My wife’s been asking how she’s been holding up since the divorce and if she’s gotten around to talking to her ex.” Kate brushed off and you wanted to face palm yourself, not the answer you were hoping for her to give.
“Wait you were married?” Gaz piped in with surprise.
“Was.” You corrected, eyes glancing towards Simon for a moment before turning your attention right back to the younger man. “But it’s nothing to worry about, you know how Kate’s wife is.” You tried your best to reassure everyone.
“Well that bloke lost something good that’s for sure.” Soap quipped right back with a flirty wink. You’ve learned this was the default with the man. “Right Lt?”
Both you and Kate found yourself looking at the man and it somehow clicked to him that you both were now more than aware of the currently predicament that fell before you and without another word left the office, slamming the door behind him.
To this very day, Simon still can’t understand why he had signed those papers. Why didn’t he just talk with you and made a compromise. Instead he became an asshole that avoided any forms of communications with you until he was left with no other choice but divorce papers waiting for him at home and every single trace of you no longer in the home you two once shared.
In the deepest depths of his bedside drawer was the divorce papers that officially separated him from you, the two ring boxes that housed his wedding ring and the engagement ring he had bought for you. Around his neck, alongside his Dog tag was your wedding ring—the same wedding ring you had left on top of the coffee table of your home, with the divorce papers right under it.
It was his fears that finally came to life and he truly didn’t know why his body automatically signed without even reaching out to you first. To this day, in the years that has passed he still wonder what his life and relationship could be if he fought for your marriage.
Would he still be married to you right now? Would the two of you finally have the family you had always wanted? Maybe by now your first kid would have been three, he had always dreamed of having a daughter. A darling little girl that was a spitting image of you, a daughter he would protect with his life over and over again.
That could have been his life, but he was far too stupid for his own good. He was too much of a bastard that ruins everything good that comes into his life. He pays the price every single night he comes home to his apartment—empty and lacked the warmth that only you could ever give to someone like him.
He made his bed and he was sleeping in tears because of it.
“There he is, good you’ve got your arse here, LT.”
Another one of the mistakes he seems to be making in his life was joining the rest of the team in the pub and realizing that you have come to join them this time around.
Bloody fucking hell you were as beautiful as the first day he had ever laid eyes on you. There was the twinkle in your eyes he had once thought he had diminished as you continued on with whatever conversation you were having with Gaz with Price listening on. You had on your favorite red crepe dress that slightly showed some cleavage but not enough to be indecent, with your favorite locket that he had brought for you while you were still dating, and the first ever expensive Cartier watch you had brought for yourself (which Simon would have more than willingly bought for you if you allowed it) while saving up your checks.
Fate was nothing but a cruel sick man for giving this sight of you in front of him and never allowing him the taste he always craved. A gift that wasn’t his to accept—anymore.
“You know how traffic is, Johnny.” He muttered finding himself sitting beside the man and in the process finding himself sitting right in front of you in the process.
“Bullshit,” Soap snorted. “Stopped by a bonnie we didn’t know about?”
Simon glanced towards you, the momentary hurt that passed through your eyes before you continued on with your conversation with Gaz, now hearing you were both talking about your Uni days and how you found yourself involved with working for Laswell’s wife all those years ago.
“Don’t have the time nor the energy for another headache in my life.” He spoke realizing that it was the wrong thing to say with you in front of him. He could have said it if you were not here, but not in your presence, it diminishes every single thing he had ever had with you.
It wasn’t what he meant but he couldn’t truly take it back.
“I can second that.” You spoke finally meeting his eyes this time. An unrecognizable look in your eyes as you stared right at him. “And this is coming from someone that’s already made a mistake of ever getting married to a man in the military.”
This has opened the floodgate for everyone in the table to question you about your apparent divorce. He had no one else to blame for this than himself. He listened in now as you continued on answering questions about your relationship with him and the eventual divorce, but made sure it was vague enough not to have fingers pointed at him.
“So, you loved the man more than life itself and all that, why divorce?” Soap had asked the million dollar question.
“It’s gets tiresome to love someone that doesn’t want to help himself.” You spoke honestly. “Year of trying to understand him, only to push shoved away over and over again, it hurts and it gets tiresome. I just had to go before the love turns to hate.”
In the years since the divorce, there was never closure between the two of you. The forms of communications that you both had were mostly about him being deployed again or of you and your plans of moving around or changing careers. Never did either of you had the much needed closure that you both deserved—until now, not directed at him.
“If any of you ever attempt getting involved with a guy or girl make sure you’re serious about the relationship a hundred percent, not fifty, not seventy-five, not even fucking ninety. Because that small fraction you’re not giving them might be the very reason why everything falls apart.”
Simon finds himself blinking at the words that now escaped your lips. The downright resentment that still lingered in your tongue even after everything that had occurred between the two of you. He shouldn’t have signed those fucking divorce papers.
Marriage Counseling, they should have had marriage counselling like you had begged from him all those years ago.
He stood, excusing himself to order the next round of drinks. He doesn’t have it in him anymore to listen to your words cutting him to the very core.
One of the biggest mistake about accepting Price’s offer of going out with the rest of the team for a quick drink was forgetting your non-existing alcohol tolerance. As the drink was now swimming through your blood stream, your lips become looser and there were few moments were you had almost spilled the fact that your ex-husband just happens to be sitting in front of you in the table you shared with the rest of 141.
“You sure you’ll be alright to head home on your own?” Your boss has inquired the moment it was announced the pub was closing up for the early morning.
You nodded with a smile, but the warmth that you were certain painted your skin and the dazed eyes, you were all too sure that it would be a big mistake for you to do. Go knows how dangerous it would be for a drunk like you to head home all on your own.
“I’ll take her home.” Simon announced and before you could protest, John had nodded agreeing that it would be the best thing to do and you couldn’t protest or show even a smidge of irritation as you were given a death glare by your ex-husband.
“Thank you for letting me join you guys.” You spoke towards your boss, the giggly duo of Soap and Gaz. “I’ll text once I get home.” You promised them following Simon out of the pub.
You took a deep breath as the cool morning air sobered you up for a moment as you waited for the man with his car. Frowning when you realized the man didn’t have his car with him but rather his death machine known as his motorcycle.
“Here.” He muttered practically shoving an all too familiar helmet towards you.
Like quick work, you had put on the helmet, ensuring to adjust the strap before the man does. You were still unprepared to be in close proximity with the man but here you were.
Watching him pull down the foot peg, he turned to you waiting for you to ride him—ride his motorcycle. With a deep breath you rode behind him, the skirt riding up your legs and he was quick to pull it down for your own decency before revving the engine on.
“Hold on tight.” He ordered and your body was on autopilot as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he sped off.
You know it was the alcohol but you find yourself smelling him, the all too familiar smell of his musk and cologne—the same cologne you had given him when he told you were promoted to Lieutenant. Your head rested on his back, cheek squished against the expansion of his back, feeling the way his back tense at your touch as it had the same effect for you feeling his warmth all over again.
“Where?” He questioned you as the bike halted at the stoplight.
You slurred your words, but you did your best to tell him directions to where your apartment was. Your sober self would have slapped you at the back of the head for letting Simon know about your whereabouts, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to know anymore.
For a moment as the winds blew against your cheeks, you were brought back to the memories of your time together. How you feared his driving and his bike more than anything else in the world but every single time he made sure you were at your safest with him, always did even in this moment.
You remembered the dates you would both have at night when he was at his most sleepless. By the park, your arms wrapped around him as his head rested on your shoulders. How you had carried so much of his nightmare even when you truly knew nothing but what he would let you know which wasn’t much and would only be in the instance that you would have accidentally heard during his nightmares.
You remembered how tired you were as much as you loved him, how much he had meant the world to you in that very moment but slowly but surely it wasn’t the same anymore. You felt the resentment before the anger for everything he wasn’t willing to give you. You gave him everything thing but he could barely give you anything in return.
“We’re here.” Simon announced, pulling away from him you turned and he was right. You were back in your apartment and you didn’t realize how fast time has flown since as you were deep in your thoughts.
Hopping down the bike with the man helping you, you turned to him and your mouth moved before you could stop yourself.
“Want to head inside—for coffee at least as a thank you?”
“I think coffee and a conversation would be the best thing for the both of us to do at this point in time, Love.”
You felt your pulse quicken as everything single thing you had talked about in the pub was coming back to bite you in the ass. Simon has his ulterior motive after all for wanting to escort you back home.
All you did was nod, heading to the door with the man following closely behind. You felt your hands shaking but you had succeeded in keying the door open. Opening the door for him, you walked further inside, opening the lights and toeing off the flats you had on.
You placed your wallet and keys on the coffee table and found yourself sitting on the couch waiting for the man to follow you.
You heard Simon close the door, the sound of the lock being turned and the sound of his leather jacket had you worried for what was to come.
“I fucking take you seriously with the bloody helmet still on your head.” He pointed out as he stood right in front of you, unclasping the helmet from your head and for the first time in a long time, you saw him up close and the way the darkness of his eye bags was the most prominent about him—it had gotten so much worse than when you were still married. Was it because of you?
“Sorry.” You mumbled as you watched him place the helmet on top of the coffee table alongside most of your things.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
You pointed towards you left and the man had made himself at him. The sound of cupboard being opened and the all too familiar muttering of horrible instant coffee you always wanted was heard. You wanted to let out a giggle but the sudden fear of the reality of your decision brought back something you never thought you would ever relive.
You sigh elbows digging onto your thighs, as your slumped your face into your hands. Why did you offer to have him here? Why did you accept the offer of him taking you back home? Why did you accept Kate’s offer of working for John? Why did you decide to divorce Simon?
In your own mini-panic attack, the smell of vanilla latte had you pulling away from your hands and you saw the cup of coffee already in the table and Simon was already sitting in front of you, without the surgical mask and without the figurative mask he was wearing at the base.
“Why are you doing this to me?” He questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of all the places you could work why the base?”
“It’s not like I knew you were working for Price.” You snort. “It was Kate that suggested I work there—a new environment for me after everything that happened.”
Kate had called it her own version of exposure therapy. You truly appreciated her help even after knowing your ex-husband was working there in the same vicinity as you.
“You could have left?”
You snort. Aside from everything that came with the military, the money was too good to leave—but that was not something you would want to discuss with Simon knowing his intent to still provide for you even with the ink on the divorce papers were still drying.
“Why would I? You and I have nothing between us.” You spoke, knife sharp as his own words of calling you a headache to him.
“What you said to the team is that the real reason why you filed for divorce?”
All you could do was nod.
“You could have talk to me that you weren’t happy anymore we could have made it work.”
“No you won’t, Si.” You shook your head, arms crossed against your chest, you feared the words that would be thrown between the two of you now especially at your state. “I would have made it work.”
“What do you want me to do then? What could I have done then? You say one thing but mean something else?”
“Because every single time I wanted you to open up to me, you closed yourself up even more!” You spat right at him now. “Do you know how hard it was for me to bare myself to you about the shit in my life and in my family only to be reciprocated with how your family was fucked up but not an explanation for it?”
“That’s none of your business.” His voice grows dark, it was a sensitive topic.
“Then why were we even married if it wasn’t my business?” Your voice growing louder now, exasperated by this conversation. “What was the use of our vows if you would keep the smallest things a secret from me?”
“It’s not fucking small!” He screamed right back at you and you instinctively flinched at his voice then. Why was he being so cruel to you now?
“When I married you, I accepted you for who you are, I accepted that you can’t truly tell me what your missions were about or about whatever details about your deployment were. But even just something, anything that would make me believe that I was something more than a whore you could fuck and a maid that would take care of the house and cook you fucking food would have been appreciated.”
“You were my wife, wasn’t that enough?”
“No it was not, Simon.” You spat. “You never made me feel like I was truly your wife when you shut yourself down after coming home to me. You weren’t the same man that I had accidentally spilled coffee on when we first met.”
“If you knew me for the things I’ve been through you wouldn’t look at me the same way.”
“And how would you know that?” You questioned him. “How could you think for me when you don’t even know what I would think of you after everything we’ve been through?”
“You want to know the truth?”
“Yes. Maybe that way I can finally move on from anything that has to do with you.”
You know that was the wrong thing to say as the man cracked his neck and began to talk. About his life, about the abuse he had to endure at the hands of his father. He began to talk about the new beginning of his life when his father died and everyone tried their best to recover. He told you of his mother that he loved more than anything else at that point, of his brother, of his sister-in-law, and of his young nephew Joseph.
He told you about how he was finally at peace with the trauma of his life back then before things gotten to hell and back. He told you of the man named Roba, he told you of the abuse he had to once again go through at the hands of Roba’s men, physically, mentally, and sexually. He told you why he hated confined spaced after being buried alive in a coffin with a man named Vernon, a rotten corpse that he had to use the jaw of to escape death.
He told you of the death of his family, of Marcus Washington killing his family. Killing his mother, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephew that didn’t deserve being involved in anything the mission was about. He told you how he had to burn the bodies of what was left of his family and his identity in the process. You learned then why he was called Ghost and what it had meant for him and his past that continued to haunt him.
You were left stunned, unable to form words about everything that has happened to your husband. But it was the fact that now everything about him made sense. All the little things about his personality of why he was the man that sat in front of you today. It all made sense and it scared you that he was right. How you truly didn’t know what to say or what to feel now that you’ve learned of his past that he tried so hard to hide from you.
“Happy?”
“Don’t be cruel, Simon.” You whispered now, the tears were slowly forming from your eyes now, you wanted to cry for him, to mourn the family that he had lost and for adding yourself into the pain he was now enduring.
“Cruel?” He laughed, no humor in his words, malice was more evident. “What’s cruel is you still using my last name and airing out our dirty laundry to the men I work with instead of talking to me first.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, stung by his words. He was right but you weren’t going to admit it right now. A small ounce of pride still clawing its way out of you. “And you know why I still used your last name.”
It was your family. You wanted to erase was little traces of your family remained. Even in the divorce, you always had it in mind to remain a Riley. It was better than having to be the ghost of your former self all over again.
He stood now, knowing it was all he needed to know. He walked away but somehow a lingering thought had you opening your lips all over again.
“Why didn’t you fight for me, Si? Why did you sign the papers back then if you truly didn’t want to break up?”
“Because no matter how much I loved and needed you in my life, I will always choose your happiness before my own.” He answered, opening the door and leaving.
The sound of his bike echoing as you were left to mourn the closure of your relationship with the man that had meant the world to you. With all the regret finally coming full force you were left knowing that you had broken the man more than he already was and there was no turning back from it anymore.
It’s been well over a year now since you have been hired as Captain John Price’s secretary. Things were slowly but surely getting better for you and your career. Since the day you had talked with Simon, you wouldn’t say things between the two of you were getting better but you were civil with each other. You’ve interacted with him a few times, especially when it came to paper works but nothing more was said between the two of you.
Even with Price’s rule of not getting yourself involved with anyone in the team, it was becoming a mission for both Gaz and Soap to set you up with people on the base. Doctors or medics were somehow their number one target for you, but every single time, you find yourself relenting to just one date but never pushing for something more.
After knowing the truth about your ex, you didn’t have the heart to be so cruel to him more than you already were working in the base as him. Your free time away from base were spent with hobbies you had while still being married to Simon, baking and journaling, it was relief to be able to do it now with a new light was shed to the events of your marriage failing. You’ve also come to accept the offer of Kate’s wife’s therapist. It was a big help to be able to talk to someone else about everything you’ve been through.
You’ve learned to accept that you had your own mistake in the failure of your marriage just as much as Simon did. But your therapist has also come to mention that you needed to begin your own journey of healing from the what ifs of it, and live in the aftermath as painful as it was for you now.
“That dangerous?” You found yourself fearing for the worse at the conversation you were having with your boss as he explained to you the vague details of the upcoming mission him and the rest of the Task Force had for today.
With the chaos of prepping and planning, your boss was constantly on his feet and you were following him every step away for most of it to field calls and handle most of the paperworks to be sent out to sign and shipped to the higher ups. But to know a glimpse of what was happening and how your ex-husband would be involved in all of this worried you more than you would like to admit.
“It is what it is, if it meant a safer and better world, we would do it over and over again.” He explained.
“Just be careful, I still want to keep my job and I can’t if you’re dead, Boss.” You teased.
“Laswell can still be able to deal with you if I’m gone.” He retorted right back earning a quick laugh from you.
One thing that you had gotten so used to was his humor and how you had showcased your own as time went by working for the man. You appreciated him for being one of the two best bosses you had ever had in your career.
“Shouldn’t you be preparing for the mission?” You quipped right back.
“I should.” He chuckled standing right up in his full height. “Can you go check on the boys for me while I do?”
You could have refused, but a small part of you wanted to check up on Simon. Standing up, you had made your round, first stopping by Soap’s room to check up on him and notify him about the mission. Soap being the man that he was already suggesting you another man in the base beforehand.
“How about Micah? Pretty bloke that just joined the Medic team.” He began shoving the rest of his things into his duffle bag.
“Johnny, for the last time, I’m not into those pretty type you think I’m into.” You tried to indulge him in the conversation for now knowing it would ease him from the mission.
“What is your type so me and Gaz could actually find someone for you?” He pouted.
“Tall, blonde, dark and broody and with a heavy Manchester-accent.” You indulged him with description of the only man you actually loved.
“Why the fuck are you describing Ghost?” He snorts. “You got a thing for him? I thought you swore off anyone from the military?”
“Never said it was Ghost, Johnny.” You quipped right back. You hugged him and have him wrap his arms around you right back. “Be careful for me will you, I can’t live my life here in the base knowing you or Gaz aren’t here trying to set me up with anyone and everyone in the base including the married ones.”
“Hey we didn’t know Wilson was married.” He protested as he pulled away to look at you in offense.
“At this point I’ve already had dinner with half of the base, let’s keep it to a minimum when you get back. I might show you my ex so you can have an idea of what my type is.”
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on top of the head before leaving to head to the meeting room.
You next stop was Gaz which wasn’t much of a journey with how close his room was to Soap’s. Knocking inside, you were immediately welcomed into the arms of Gaz. Unlike Soap that had been fixated with setting you up with someone in the base, Gaz was more focused on the next get together you could go to after the mission.
“I think me and Soap could convince Price to have a weekend in his vacation house in Cornwall.”
You nodded knowing it wouldn’t take much to convince Price if it meant helping the rest of the team with de-stressing and ensuring everyone has recovered mentally from the mission. But it also meant that you would be in charge of cooking knowing you and Price were the only ones that knew how to cook and you wanted your boss to actually have time to recover himself in the process.
“As long as you help me with grocery and prepping then you got a deal.” You winked pulling away from him with a smile already excited to bake them your famous apple pie they constantly beg you to make for them since the first time making it for them.
“Deal.” He grinned kissing you on the cheeks and just like Soap, finding himself heading out with his bag already at hand.
It now meant you had one last person you needed to stop by before the mission prep. You took your time somehow rehearsing what you could probably say to the man for his upcoming mission. You had your worry and you knew this was a dangerous mission.
Knocking on his door, you heard the gruff response from the other side of the door.
“Simon?” You called and immediately heard the door being unlocked.
You were faced with him wearing his skull balaclava mask. This was the side of him that you never gotten used to see but it was a part of him that you could never truly erase from him.
“What’s wrong?” He asked you allowing you to walk inside.
“Price told me to notify you about heading out for the mission.” You explained. “And I just—I just wanted to ask you to be careful on the mission.”
“Always.” He nodded.
A moment of silence has passed between the two of you before you were reminded of your therapist’s words. There was nothing wrong if you extended an olive branch to the man after everything was out in the open.
“After the mission, I would love to have you join us in Price’s cabin in Cornwall for a quick vacation too.” You added. “I know you’re busy with whatever you need to do to distress after a mission, but I would think it would be good to you if you joined. I can opts this one out if you’re more comfortable with that.”
“I’d go.” He nodded. “But I want you to join along and I want you to make me that lovely cheesecake you always make for me after I come home from deployment.”
You smiled knowing that it was always the same, a way to a man’s heart is always through his stomach.
“Anything else you want?” You asked wanting to give in to his all too simple request.
“And I want us to at least be friends, you’re part of the team now and they care for you and it wouldn’t do anyone good for us to act like we can’t stand each other.”
You nodded, heart aching a little at what he wanted. Friends. That was all he wanted and you would gladly compromise this time for him if that was what makes him truly happy.
“Friends.” You smiled, taking a hesitant step towards him for a hug but stopped mid movement as he pulled you right into his arms. The all too familiar warmth that consumed him.
“I wished things would have been different between the two of us.” He whispered kissing the top of your head. “I’d give you the world when I couldn’t give you myself fully.”
You closed your eyes wrapping your arms around his broad back.
“I wished I was strong enough for the two of us.” You whispered the tears slowly forming your eyes. “I wished I stayed a little longer for the two of us.”
“I never stopped loving you, Love. We might not be married anymore but you will be the only woman I will ever love truly with all my life and with all my soul.”
“You too, Si.” You whispered looking up at him allowing the tears to flow freely from your eyes now. “After everything that had happened between us, I will always love you.”
It was the middle of the night when you heard the familiar ringtone of your old phone. The same phone that only Simon knew the number to. You blinked away the sleep as you pulled the phone right out of the bedside table.
An unfamiliar number took you by surprise and for a moment you wanted to not answer it thinking it might be a telemarketer—but something had pushed you to press the answer button and hear whoever was on the other line.
“Hello?” You whispered clearing your throat.
“Mrs. Riley?” The familiar voice of John had you tensing. You found yourself sitting up from the bed as he began to introduce himself and why he had called.
“What happened to Simon?” You questioned checking your bedside clock to see what time it was.
It was just past midnight, three weeks since they had left for their mission and this was the first time you had gotten any contact to any one of them.
“As of right now, we are not sure if he would make it through the night. If you want we could have you someone fetch you to see him.”
You felt your world still at the news. Just when things were finally moving into the right direction between you and Simon.
“I’ll be there as soon as possible.” You assured hanging up and changing into some sweatshirt and sweatpants.
The travel to the now familiar base was a daze to you as you drove. You weren’t much of a religious person, but your lips did not stop moving as you prayed. You prayed that your husband would be alright, you bargained that you would make things right with him if it meant he would stay.
“Don’t leave me, Simon.” You whispered over and over again until you arrived to the base.
You had ignored most of the surprise that the soldier on duty had shown at your sudden appearance—the fact that you were in just your ratty clothes was also something you chose to ignore as you made a beeline to where the infirmary was.
Huddled in front of the door was your boss, John, Soap, and Gaz. Each and every single one of them injured in their own way—mostly superficial from the bandages that plastered all over their beaten faces.
“John.” You called having three heads turning to you in question. “How is he?” You questioned as the tears begin to fall from your eyes at the reality of the situation coming to crush you. “How is my husband?”
The realization washed over all of them, of the secret you and Simon had hidden from everyone. The weight was too much as you were wrapped in the arms of the family you had found yourself becoming a part of.
“Will he be alright?” You pleaded, holding onto John’s vest. “Please tell me he will be alright.” You begged falling to your knees in front of him.
“The doctors are doing their best, Love.” John reassured kneeling in front of you, wrapping you into his arms as you continued to sob. “But Simon took most of the impact from the explosion.”
The reality scared you so much. You tried you best to remember the last interaction you had with Simon, the hug, the promise of a new beginning, and everything else in between. It all came crashing down to this very point.
There was a very big chance that you will finally lose Simon and it scared you so much more than anything in this world. You couldn’t lose him, not like this, not when there was so much left between the two of you to make up for.
“He can’t leave me, John.” You whimpered. “He promised me he wouldn’t leave me like this.” You screamed at the top of your lungs.
You were made aware of the vows you had made to each other when you got married at the court house. Of how he had promised to the best of his abilities that he wouldn’t die in the line of duty before he could have the chance to retire. He promised you a family, he promised you the world, and he promised you your happiness. He was your family, he was your world, and he was your happiness that you realize only when it was too late.
For the next few weeks, the world around you had become blur. You were now much of a permanent fixture of the Taskforce’s base. Morning and the afternoon was spent still working for Price, especially with the piling number of paperworks the mission had caused and your nights were spent in the infirmary, watching over Simon that has yet to awake from his slumber.
When the doctors had given you the green light that you can see him—it took you hours before you did. Even after John, Soap, and Gaz had finished with their own visit, it took so much of what little strength you had to finally see him in his state.
Broken bones, laceration, head trauma, blood loss and amongst the other injuries that the doctors has informed you should have killed him but he was still alive even in his current state. He still had fight in him, he was still fighting to keep alive.
“I’ve come to realize that post-mission Price was a whole different breed of a grump, more than he usually is.” You began talking to your still unconscious ex.
The doctor had told you about him being able to hear your voice and you took the opportunity to talk his ear off with him unable to give his usual sarcastic comments or grunts as response. There were days you told him about your day at work, days where you told him about what you had been doing since you left your home and tried and failed to move on from him, and there were days where you apologized to him, regretting the divorce and everything else that been the reason for the demise of your marriage.
“I think since the divorce I’ve realized a lot of shit about us.” You sighed leaning against the uncomfortable plastic chair. “If you wake up, I’ll try to do my best to convince you to take me back.” You mused arms crossed against your chest. “I know you don’t have as much of a happy memory after what happened to your family, but when you wake up, I want to make sure we make as much happy memories as we could together, I want you to tell me about what your Ma was like, what kind of brother Tommy was like, and how adorable Joseph was, I want all of that and more with you.”
You wiped away the tears that have yet to fall, you didn’t want to cry. You thought that you didn’t have any more tears to shed. The gravity of almost losing Simon was the wakeup call you needed and now it was nothing more than a waiting game until he wakes up.
“I fucking can’t be your friend, Si.” You admit. “I can’t be happy with just being your friend. I want you to be my husband again, Si. After almost losing you I know I can’t live knowing we haven’t fixed our relationship. I’ll do anything and everything to make it up to you, all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you.”
“Anything?”
You almost jumped from where you sat at the sight of the man whose eyes were now focused on you.
“Simon?”
“Am I just high or did you say what you did?”
“What?”
“That you would make up for everything?” He muttered groggily.
“I did.” You nodded blinking in disbelief that he was here, awake. Alive.
“Then marry me. Let me make it right this time, Love. I promise I’ll make it work, I’ll do my best to make you happy the way that you deserve.”
“Yes.” You answered almost immediately, finding yourself giggling about how ridiculous his second proposal was with his current state—but you didn’t want it any other way.
He requested for you to take his dog tag around his neck off and only then did you notice that your wedding ring enclosed around his necklace. Even with the years that passed, he still had it with him. The very same ring you two had brought together before you had headed to the courthouse for your marriage.
“Can I add another stipulation?” He held onto your free hand.
“Anything.” You smiled rubbing your hand against the callousness of his hand. “Anything to make it work, Si.”
“No more blind dates from the Sergeants.”
“They could never hold a candle to you, Simon.” You giggled leaning in for a kiss, the weight that rested on your shoulders slowly easing away.
You were home, you were back in the arms of Simon after all was said and done.
#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley fanfic#fem reader#simon riley mw2#simon riley x female reader#cod fic#mw2 fic#mw2 x you#mw2 x reader#ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon riley angst#simon riley fanfiction#call of duty
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PAC Your FS’s Vibe
So hello again the ghost is reappearing sorry to my babies, work is heavy and wearing me out I work at FedEx y’all. Package handling heavy ass boxes everyday for the week! I’ve been worn out, but that don’t mean ion love you guys and I feel like shit for not being more consistent. So I’m back with a quick PAC reading so you can get a quick little vibe of your FS just something to tickle your fancy. If you’d like more material and details even readings every month join my patreon which shall be featured on the bottom of this reading! REMEMBER! This is a GENERAL reading so take everything lightly and let the rest flow to another thank you. Let’s begin shall we.
VIBE 1:
VIBE 2:
VIBE 3:
VIBE 4:
VIBE 1:
You Got The DEATH card. So your FS regardlesss of gender is intense! They’re Scorpionic! They may be a Scorpio or have Scorpio in their natal chart. They’ve been through a lot of transitions and changes, some of them could’ve been surrounded by a lot of death actual people dying around them, so I’m hearing they may not get close to people they feel everyone they love dies type shit. This person is hella strong and mysterious, they have a lot of admires I’m hearing the word smolder so maybe they do that with their eyes. Something about their eyes stand out 👀 They know how to make people swoon. They will have you always giggling and rolling their eyes, you’ll always be trying to figure them out. Everyday is new and exciting with them you just feel so eager to learn about them, they’re enticing I’m hearing. They look good and they give me vampire vibes some lestat, and others Louis from interview with a vampire show on AMC and not money or anything just their swagger and vibe. Some even looks. They’re very serious to they take no shit and they’re not the ones to mess with! They’ve been through some shit I’m feeling. Also looks good in hoodies or wears a lot of them. A boogie with the hoodie vibes too for some reason. By
💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
Vibe 2:
HOLY FUCC You Guy Got The SUN ☀️! Your FS is very Sunny, upbeat, positive and full of energy! They like to see the brighter side to everything! Half glass full type of energy! The sun is very masculine energy so they can be masculine irregardless of gender. They are so happy and they just want everyone around them to be happy too, very innocent vibes too I’m getting youthful so they can be younger than you are or just makes you feel young too, I also get they look younger than they are. They have come full circle in their lives, I feel they have struggled, begged and pleaded in their life and now they’re finally doing things their way and they couldn’t be happier with it. They’re very self aware I feel! They know about their good shit and bullshit and if they’re not working on it or haven’t it’s cos they’re at peace with it and who they are and I feel they are so motivational and supportive to those around them! The cheerleader of their group. They want to see everyone win! I think they are Leo dominant or have Leo in their chart. Loud and proud very prideful so that can be an issue! They treat themselves like royalty, they may live in a warm place, they may like to lay out in the sun. They may have blonde hair some of them, longer too esp if it’s a feminine. This person is just awesome their vibe is so lit I love them already they just want to smile and have a good time! They have gotten lucky so many times in their life I feel they’re very a happy go lucky kinda person, they’re a joy to be around! Warm, loving, accepting, embracing I’m hearing they’re like a hug!
☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️
Vibe 3: You Got The Star ⭐️! So I’m seeing your FS has got very healing energy and vibes going on, they’re very inspirational and people go to them for advice and hope. This person always tries to help others and uplift them. Motivational speaker right here! I’m feelin like for some not all! Your FS is a celebrity, they could have star power if anything, locally known. Your FS is the type to wish upon a shooting star! They’re incredibly sweet and loving the type to adopt animals and kids even! They believe in the betterment of the world and the planet, man in the mirror by Michael Jackson is what I’m hearing they are basically too good for this fucking world! They are such an angel on this earth people feel lucky just to be in their presence! They are humanitarians! They philosophical too, brown hair for some, they can be an Aquarius or have Aquarius in their chart. They keep their heart open to faith. Not religious well some are but they do hold strong faith everything works out for the best.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Vibe 4: Aww You Got The Knight of Cups. Your FS is so sweet, they’re loving, passionate and creative asfcc! They’re an artist, they can be a water sign. Cancer & Pisces most likely! They are so beautiful too I feel they look really cute! They have can have tattoos. They hella romantic they want love! This person has style too hella swag 😆. They are the type to write love letters and songs for you, to create a beautiful picnic and surprise you for a date. They are the pursuer. Big dreams! They follow their heart, sometimes they don’t connect their mind and they need too, they’re hella emotional but it’s balanced and controlled. They are the type to woo you, sweep you off your feet! They will court you! This person has a big heart. Your white knight! They are the type to go save their homie at 6am in the morning and they’re still in sleep mode. They don’t care they are down and I feel since it’s cups they just flow too, they aren’t really against pushing against the current, they can probably play guitar some of them. They’re an Angel and they love hard!
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋
Well
That’s all you guys I hope you liked it and it resonated I promise imma try to be better also if you’d like to join my patreon we have unlimited openings lol the link is here!
THANK YOU GUYS LOVE YA!!
#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarot community#psychic#tarot cards#pick a pile#pac reading#pick a card#free tarot reading#fs pick a pile#tarot readings#tarot witch#thementalshawty#fs pac#fs reading
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Saw some ppl talking about Reverse Robins and i had thoughts
Talking abt u guys @eldritchdreamss @brucewaynehater101
Why kill Tim when you could kill baby Jason? What I want is for all of them to keep their own backstories and personalities (Developed in line with the story of course) So ofc i had to write a 1,000 word brainrot abt it.
(Also i'll only be going over the main 4 batbros for now i will add more later but these guys are the ones im most passionate about so here we go)
Damian
Let Damian come in, desperate to be of use and be worthy of his father, only for a softer, less jaded bruce (since jason hasnt died yet) to help him open up his heart and let him act as a kid. With no competition for so long, I imagine he and Bruce get along very well while he works with him. Yeah, they need to work on the no killing deal and Damian's... i guess impulse control? But i think it would be easier with very intensely focused reparenting; no distractions of other kids you know? No favoring or anything.
I see Damian growing up as a stoic, jaded adult. He's had a rough life. Maybe he sticks with the vigilante business. but I really love headcanons where he gets out of it, and focuses on something calmer, like his art. (I do appreciate and love the veterinarian Damian AUs, but im going for FULL calmness, you know? And doctor/vet work is Not calm lol)
So yeah, maybe he grows a real passion for heroism, maybe he doesn't? Maybe he goes on to be an artist and that's just what he does. Bro is ready to settle down as a scarred, veteran trophy husband and i adore him for that.
(Sorry lol i just love Damian and i love the idea of him growing out of both of his parent's legacies. Let him live his own life!!! He fights so so hard for at least 15 years. ALL 15 years of his life. He deserves to have some peace.)
Tim
Tim i think would need a much different story to join the Batfam. He still starts out as a stalker who follows batman and. . . . . . . Redimar (meaning Redemption iykyk (I just spend 17min researching names rip)) at night, takes photos, etc... Since Damian doesn't die, maybe he finds Tim? and like, tim is like 11 and Damian is 17 or 18. He's started going out as Redimar less and less, not that B really minds? In fact hes probably happy for his son so...
But then Damian finds Tim, and now he has to keep going out because he can't let this kid get himself killed like this. He would hold himself accountable since hes the only reason Tim keeps going out so much- also i imagine Tim follows Redimar more than Batman.
Cue a classic Tim Joining The Batfam plotline. They get to know each other better, get a grasp on Tim's situation, Damian finally introduces Tim to Bruce... (Probably something like Dami: "Father, this is my new brother. Timothy, say hello to Father," Tim: "Hello, Father," Dami: "Perfect." Bruce: "*falls off the batchair*)
Anyway, so, Tim ends up kinda just merging with the Waynes. They start training him, its all good and nice, and Tim makes his own little hero team unlike Damian, which is actually pretty interesting here; its Tim who made the first young hero team. Damian only ever had Jon (Superboy 1 in this!!) and he finds Young Just Us and becomes a great leader and its all fine and dandy.
Tim and Damian get along well. Damian is the sage older brother whos kinda distant, but only because he has such high emotional walls (but secretly a softy). He is very much like Bruce- nope, nevermind, hes definitely worse than Bruce in this AU, since Bruce is depicted as being much more agreeable before Jason's death, you know? So yeah, Damian is the emotionally constipated bitch in the fam and we love him for that. But hey!! Tim does manage to get through his walls! And Bruce does sometimes too!! (Tho i imagine Bruce and Damian's relationship to be very.. idk let me try to expalain. Dami: "Father." Bruce: "Son :)" Dami: "Tt." Bruce: *nods* "Hrn." Dami: "Hmph." Bruce: "Hm.") DO U PICK UP WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN--- lmfao. They hardly need words.
Tim ends up growing up very very capable. Once his parents die, he gets a little jaded, but hes still Tim. He and Damian become kind of an... ice prince duo? If you get what I mean. But Tim is the one whos actually the ice prince, Damian is secretly a HUGE softie. He is Delicate and Tim protects him lmfao.
Jason
Jason comes along like he does in canon. Has the same backstory. Tries to steal the Batmobile's wheels. Tim is sleeping over at Damian's flat for the night, so its just Bruce. They bond. Shit happens. Jason joins the fam.
I don't imagine them not getting along, but they don't immediately hit it off either. Jason is wary of all of them for a time, but he ends up warming up to Damian pretty fast after realizing what a softie he is. He pokes fun at Damian and Damian just freaking takes it lmao. Hes an adult he cannot be disturbed. Bro has seen too much and he finds Jason adorable. (Dami: "You were never this cute, Timothy." <- he is lying. Tim: *offended* "What the fu- flip!?" Jason: "Lmao Tim just say fuck." Dami: *deadpan stare* Tim: "JASON NO DONT SAY THE FUCK WORD-") ahem.
anywho and then Jason dies rip skill issue ratio.
The whole batfam is heartbroken. Genuinely shattered. Jason was a light in their lives. Not that they were WITHOUT any light, but Jason was the epitome of a sunshine child.
It's been too long since Damian has killed someone. Bro's god oodles and oodles of trauma. He can't bring himself to kill the Joker.
but Tim can.
It's a whole dramatic thing; Damian feels awful that he made his- now only- little brother kill. Bruce is hella upset but feels responsible for not seeing how badly both of his kids were handling the death of their brother. Tim goes a little off the deep end.
Things turn out.... okay. sort of. but not really. Tim changes his hero name to Red Cardinal. He feels pretty lost. Maybe he stumbles into Ra's al Ghul or smthn idk maybe smthn happens there perhaps. Maybe Damian has to put on Redimar again and rescue him? But its less of a rescue and more of a "Stop joining the dark side Tim jesus christ-" (and it does work).
They go home. Tim gets a boyfriend or two. Damian falls into his art. Bruce is throwing himself into work. They're all kind of a mess, but they keep moving.
and then
Dick
(lmao that sounded wrong)
ahem; and then the circus comes to town. The batfam- well, Tim, Damian, and Bruce- all decide to get together to do something fun. Take the opportunities given, yk? So they go to the circus together.
Wham bam rip the falling Flying Graysons.
They see Dick, breaking apart, and they know they have to do something. Bruce is the first to move. Then Tim. Damian is the last.
It's pretty quick getting Dick home, since Bruce is already a foster parent cuz of Tim yk. So Dick doesn't have to suffer in Juvie at all really. But that doesn't change the fact that he is ANGRY.
Dick is SO angry. he wants to kill the person who murdered his parents. He knows what he saw.
The fam of course do their best to investigate. Mostly Tim, who feels unworthy of being around an innocent little kid after his whole.... villain era, i suppose lol. (ofc Dick thinks Tim doesnt like him lol misunderstanding arc GO)
The whole "Dick accepts that justice is better than murder kinda maybe FOR NOW" storyline happens, and Dick becomes the conniving, bright, little Robin we all know and love. (Thinking of the Young Justice Cartoon Robin (but not the characters- just Dick's character) aaaand
Womp womp GUESS WHOS BACK
Jason's Back
but i'll leave that for later.
#my writing#personal#batfam#reverse robins#batman#damian wayne#jason todd#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batbros#batkids#batfam fanfic
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader.
GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo.
WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information.
WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats.
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.”
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss.
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of.
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?”
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out.
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting.
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack.
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream).
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?”
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.”
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you.
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation.
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all.
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut. “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame.
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in.
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together.
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?”
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended.
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old.
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air.
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you.
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums.
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE.
© hannie-dul-set, 2024.
#tomorrow x together x reader#txt x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together scenarios#txt x you#tomorror x together x you#soobin x reader#yeonjun x reader#beomgyu x reader#txt fanfic#choi soobin x you#choi beomgyu x you#choi yeonjun x you
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Moon peppers (4)
(1) (2) (3)
Palestine: what can you do
were!Abby x witch!reader
Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.
Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.
Notes: how do I keep hating the witch after she saved my life asking for a friend
Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @pjmispunk @herdelreydear @lmaoo-spiderman @littletinyladybugs (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)
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Your morning is.. odd. You expected yourself to forget how to control so much magic, but instead it feels better than the last ten years you spent being weak. You really couldn't live like this: it made you feel vulnerable and helpless, and now that your power is back, you feel like yourself again.
In a way it terrifies you. Because you were a completely different person ten years ago, and now you don't want your old habits back. You don't like seeing your tattoos and runes, especially the ones on your forearms, but you try your best to make peace with it. Your tattoos have almost nothing to do with your power - they're just channels for your magic, a spellbook engraved in your skin. They were faint before yesterday, fading away as your powers grew weaker, but they were still there, and they will not disappear until you die. You have to accept it, and maybe, if you don't make stupid decisions this time, you'll change your heart about them.
You meditate before breakfast to manage your flow of magic exactly like Caitlyn showed you, even though you expect the wolf to wake up at any moment and trash your still room. But the wolf is asleep - you can feel it through the bond, which is annoying: you don't like having your space disturbed like this. You're sure the wolf won't like it too. You concentrate on the bond between you to see how well the healing is happening and it makes you groan - fat chance it will be finished by the evening, with this pace it will take a whole damn week. The thought of spending more than a day with the wolf makes you depressed.
Abby wakes up. This fact alone shakes her to her core: she is not dead. She is supposed to be dead, what the fuck? More than that, she feels almost okay - she is not supposed to feel mostly okay, she fucking died! She knows this, because no way in hell she hallucinated having her throat ripped out.
Then Abby opens her eyes, tries to move - and goes into survival mode. She is in a still room and she is restrained. All her paws are chained and she can't move. This is worse than death. Oh god, this is so much worse.
Abby tugs on her chains with all her power, but they down even bulge. Abby growls and coils and tries again, but she only hits the wall with her back. Abby starts to panic: she can't stay here - the fucking witch bound her! She is in debt to the witch! She needs to leave before you come and order her to do something horrible.
Abby tries again, but this time the door to the still room opens and Abby sees the creepy glowing eyes of yours. Abby starts to move around even more violently - she doesn't want you anywhere near her. You're one of the rare monsters of this world and she needs to either get away from you or to kill you, but she is not staying here. The moment she is free she will rip you to shreds.
At least you look scared when you enter the room and you keep the biggest distance possible from her. Abby growls and snarls, clasping her jaws around the air, eager to kill you.
“It's not what it looks like.” You blurt, your arm in the air as if you want to tell her you came in peace.
Abby growls louder.
“Listen, I'll free you if you calm the fuck down and turn into human form so we can talk.”
Abby is so angry she doesn't even consider the possibility of calming down or pretending to calm down.
“Or I can force you to turn into a human.” You say in a shaky voice, as if you're yourself scared of this possibility.
This actually makes Abby stop. She doesn't want you near her, so she needs to pick the least of two evils. Abby growls and starts to change, her fur disappears and her bones rearrange. The chains tighten around her human wrists and now she is sitting on your floor, glaring at you, her shirt ripped on her sides and her pants dirty.
“Thank you. I will explain everything and then I'll free you, okay?” Abby just growls at you again.
You swallow hard: the wolf is even scarier as a human. The woman is big and strong and her claws are out still, her arms are bulging with muscles, and the way she looks at you doesn't help you calm your nerves. Her shirt is red from blood and it only makes her look scarier. You clear your throat and start speaking.
“Yesterday I found you dead, and the woods wanted me to save you. So I did. Right now you're still in the process of healing and if you go too far away from me, the energy will stop coming and you will die. This is why I brought you here. I also knew you would want to kill me or you'd run away, so I chained you. Now, please make peace with the fact that you're stuck with me for a while and then I will release you. Good? Good.”
Abby growls, humbled. She doesn't want to make peace with it, but you do sound logical. And you're still scared of her, which is a good sign: maybe you won't have the guts to hurt her.
“Am I blood bound to you?” Abby growls and you look offended and angry, which confuses Abby. And also amuses.
“Fuck you.” You spit. “Not all witches are like this, you ungrateful beast. The only bound you have is the energy one that heals you. After that you're free to leave and please don't ever see me again. Jerk.”
You flick your fingers for the chains to disappear and stomp out of the still room. You knew this werewolf was an asshole, but holy fuck!
The wolf stomps after you.
“It would not have happened if you didn't take all the moon peppers!” The woman argues and follows you to the kitchen. You turn around and stare at this ungrateful, entitled shit of a wolf.
“First of all, as if a bunch of moon peppers would have saved you from getting your throat ripped out!” You snap back and get into her face, angry and stubborn. “Second of all, maybe if you didn't fucking attack me and talked to me instead I would have shared some of them!” You flip your arms around in frustration.
“Because witches are famous for being helpful and kind.” The wolf snarls at you and you can't believe the audacity of her.
But she is also right. She did have all the reasons to attack you and not trust you. You calm down a bit and take a step back.
“It's still idiotic to attack a witch. I might've not been so nice.”
“You were shitting your pants in fear.” The wolf deadpans.
“As if I wouldn’t find a way to get my revenge without a direct attack. You're exceptionally stupid.” You huff and the wolf growls. “You took my friend's den, covered it in blood and attacked me. Do you comprehend what I could have done if I wanted to? You know why witches use blood binding? Because it makes us stronger.” You hiss sadistically into the blonde's face.
For a second there's fear in the wolf's eyes, and some part of you feel satisfied. The other part, though, feels disgusted with you. You take a breath.
“I'm sorry. You just really pissed me off being so stubborn about your own safety.” You sigh and rub your face.
The silence falls and you go to the kitchen to cook some breakfast for yourself and for this stupid wolf: after all, you will be stuck together and if someone will be nasty and poison the shared time, it won't be you.
Abby blinks. She feels lost. She expected you to be some kind of creep or a sadist, even if you were afraid of her; and she knew you could've bound her - that's exactly what she thought happened. But she didn't expect you to actually be nice. Well, relatively nice: you chained her for her own good, then threatened her and now you just apologised to her, and Abby feels like a fool if she continues being mean to you. She really doesn't have any ground to mistreat you except some rumours and her awful, but limited experience. She only met one witch before.
Well. She can play nice too.
“I'm Abby.” Abby says grumpily, still not ready to believe you: you just threatened to bind her, for god's sake!
You hum and tell her your name as well while you cut vegetables with aggressive vigour. Abby assumes you're imagining cutting her into pieces.
It's awkward. It is really, really awkward. You're obviously still frustrated and Abby doesn't burn with desire to talk to you either. Plus she is in your home and she definitely doesn't know where to put herself. She settles for a stool near you. Abby stares at your back and your arms silently, and then she is hit with the realisation.
“You didn't have tattoos before.”
You smirk sadly.
“Yeah, well. Before that I didn't have to revive a whole werewolf.”
“Why did you do it?”
“Ask the forest. They made a deal with me.”
How calculating, Abby thinks. Also: how the fuck do you deal with a forest?
“So you still do deals.”
“It's different.” You say sharply. “I don't blood bind.”
“I get it.” Abby huffs and backs off: a witch who doesn't like blood binding, might be a goddamn oxymoron. “So for how long am I stuck with you?”
“Three days, probably. Maybe more, depending how fast you'll heal.”
“I heal fast.”
“Don't compare your usual healing with coming back from the dead. Who knows how much of your brain died. That's why you can't be far away from me. You go away, you break the bond, your brain dies. Got it?”
Abby hums. She has never heard of anyone being able to revive someone. She thinks you know some old forbidden magic if you can bring people back, and it just doesn't match with what she sees: a scaredy cat who lives in the woods and has to spend hours fishing to get three fish. Your home is cosy and warm, with a lot of natural light and Abby doesn't understand how you could have saved her life: you’re soft and weak and live in a house suited for some kind old lady, not a witch who could bring people from the dead. How much fucking power a witch would need to even do that?
“How far is too far?”
“If I stay here and you go beyond my shields, you're dead.”
Abby sighs, annoyed. She doesn't want to stay next to you for three days. She is somewhat grateful for being alive, but it's weird. It's very weird to be in one space with you.
You place two plates and sit opposite of Abby. Abby looks at her plate and wants to hesitate, to think, but she is so fucking hungry she starts eating right away.
It's not…bad. Edible. (God she will have to eat like this for three more days?)
You watch the wolf- Abby's face and can't help your smile. Unfortunately you're very familiar with the fact you can't cook - Cait and Vi tried it once and since then you don't host dinners anymore; sometimes Cait sends you back with food - but you didn't expect the wolf to be so sensitive to your food. You eat it just fine after all.
“It's bad.” You laugh.
“It is.” Abby agrees. “Did you do it on purpose?”
“What? No. My taste senses are just fucked up by a lot of potions.”
You see how Abby tenses and you sigh: it's strange to have your everyday life being seen as some kind of horror story. There's a lot of rumours about witches that are mostly true, but you don't think of Abby as a mindless, uncivilised beast even though she is a were, so there should be room to believe that some witches are not that bad.
(You think of your past and feel ashamed: it's not like you were “not that bad” all your life).
“Don't tell me you've never drunk a potion.” You try to appeal to Abby's own experience, but you know she might have a bad one. “From coughing? Pain killers? Never?”
“Are you saying witches brew them?” Abby smirks like you're ridiculous.
“Well, yes. We sell them for money, that's how everyone gets them.”
Abby is silent as she chews your food that you think is quite edible, actually - but she drinks her flower milk with every spoon and you take a wild guess she can't stomach it.
“Okay, listen. Are you a good cook?”
“Yes, actually. Everyone with enhanced senses makes a good cook.” Abby says with pride and you see her blue eyes sparkle. She also has freckles. Which is kinda cute.
“Then you can cook whatever you want and not suffer.” You offer.
Abby frowns at you like she expects some kind of trickery. You sigh again and raise your hands in defeat. You tried.
“Do you have any meat?”
“...No.”
“And I can't hunt.” Abby explains to you like you're stupid. You roll your eyes.
“There's fish in the freezer. It should be fine.”
That's how Abby spends her afternoon: cooking fish. She has to ask you for other ingredients and you send her to your still room, which makes her shiver. It's creepy - just like you are with your eyes and tattoos and potion drinking or whatever - and Abby thinks of people trapped in these still rooms and being experimented on. She is happy she doesn't see any kind of animal parts on your shelves. You're out of the house for the most part: when Abby looks out of the window, she sees you sitting on the ground, absolutely still. Weirdo.
“At least this weirdo is harmless compared to her kin.” Abby says to herself while she cuts the fish.
You also saved her life and didn't ask for anything in return - not counting leaving you alone after - and Abby really struggles to keep thinking of you as a monster. You don't seem half-bad. And she should make friends here, now that she doesn't have a pack. The thought of being friends with a witch actually makes Abby laugh out loud.
After lunch, which is spent mostly in silence except for your praise on Abby's cooking, you tell her you'll be in the still room and that she can find something to be busy with. You point at books and yarn. Abby rolls her eyes.
She has absolutely nothing to do. Her instincts are going crazy as well: your home looks like it needs an alpha. You're not an omega, and you don't need Abby's help, but she feels like she'll go insane if she doesn't fix something. She fights her urges, but after an hour she gives up and sharpens your knives. It makes her feel easier and she can read in peace now.
You come back in a few hours and sit on the opposite end of your sofa, exhausted. Abby doesn't look at you.
“Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to the village for my check ups. You'll have to come with me.”
Abby frowns. She doesn't want to show her face in the village - what if some of her former packmates are still around and will notice her?
“Can your deals wait?” You sigh loudly, annoyed: can this wolf be nice for one fucking minute or is Abby trying to establish some kind of hierarchy in your house?
“I am a healer.” You deadpan, tired of dealing with Abby’s shit. “People need me.”
“It's not safe for me to show up like this.” Abby scrunches her nose.
“I guess it’s connected to the fact that you were dead yesterday.” You say and Abby can only nod. “I can hide you, if you want. There's a spell that will not let people recognise you if they mean harm.”
Abby coils back. She doesn't want any fucking spells to be put on her! But in a second she clears her head and thinks about it: she clearly doesn’t have a choice if she wants to survive. And you offer her help, so maybe it’s not too bad.
“How can I know you're not fucking with me?” You blink and Abby tries not to look you in the eyes: you look like an owl. And not in a cute way.
“Can't you smell if I lie? I know weres can smell emotions. Also, the bond we have can make you feel awful if I try to harm you.”
Abby hums, thinking it over.
“Okay. But if you try any funny business, you're dead.”
“You'll be dead too, idiot.” You roll your eyes at Abby and she rolls hers in return.
The wolf is kinda annoying. You can understand her distrust, but her threats are getting ridiculous.
The last step of this strange and mostly unpleasant day is getting ready for bed. You look at your small sofa and try to think how Abby will fit, but the other option is the floor, which you assume she won't appreciate. You give her the choice anyway, Abby looks between the sofa and the floor like it's a hard choice, like she thinks the floor is a valid option. Then she agrees to sleep on the sofa. (I'll turn back if I'm uncomfortable, she tells you.) You bring her a pillow and a few blankets: the nights are getting cold and you usually use your magic to keep the hut warm, but you can slip up when you sleep, and wake up to a freezing house.
“Why don't you use wood like normal people?”
“It's too much work. I can find a tree that fell, but you need to chop it, bring it here, chop more, store the logs. Nah. Magic is easier.”
Abby huffs.
“So you rely on your magic all the time.”
“And you rely on your senses and strength.” You deadpan.
Abby doesn't say anything in return, having no valid arguments. You sigh and make a circle with your hand, turning all lights off, and then you show Abby where the candle is in case she needs some light for her reading. Abby nods and you wish each other good night.
You both can’t fall asleep for a long time, too bothered by each other: you don’t like having Abby in your home after she has been so nasty to you for the reason of “the witch”, and Abby doesn’t like being in your home for the reason of, well, “the witch”. She is alive, and she should be happy, but your presence is a constant threat and she can’t let herself fall asleep. You can’t fall asleep because you feel Abby, her life energy like a giant bright light in your living room and it’s hard to ignore it. You try to meditate but it seems to make you even more energised.
You fall asleep when it’s so dark you can’t see anything beyond your windows. Abby falls asleep five minutes later.
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From the games: Ghetsis having N's Dragon in USUM. This man's Hydreigon could solo N's whole team, packing moves that were super-effective for each member. At best, N's life is constantly under threat by the Triad to keep the Dragon in line, but we all know Ghetsis isn't above murder. It's definitely possible he could have killed N and took the dragon as a trophy.
In the side series: aside from the implied people-boiling in Masters, almost getting executed by Dusknoir's pack of Sableye in PMD Explorers, all while your partner, who had looked up to Dusknoir and put a lot of faith in him, is pleading for Dusknoir to explain himself. You would have been literally shredded to death by Sableye's Fury Swipes. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
In the anime: Coco's parents getting run off the road by Zed and him leaving them to die in a fiery explosion, with getting away with it for almost a decade. He also thought he killed an infant. Honestly, the AU movies had been pretty heavy already between that one kid whose Luxray froze to death protecting him and the old woman whose Snubbull burned alive, but that just takes the cake.
Also, how Lysandre manipulated Alain into working towards "peace", only to reveal his vision of peace meant many people would die, and thanking Alain for helping him pull it off. Imagine being 15-16, and told you're culpable for genocide, despite being completely in the dark on what was actually intended. (Plus, it's clear that Alain had a lot of trust in Lysandre prior to all this.) No wonder the kid has a major breakdown after.
In the manga, several moments. There's Lysandre and Malva falling onto sharp rocks, ending up in a bloody pile, and for a while, I had assumed he had died from that until the full chapter release (a few years later) revealed he just took extensive damage to his spine. The entire XY chapter, honestly tho. Like, the way they play Flare for every ounce of paranoia the games missed out on. The kids never feel safe, and can't really trust anybody outside their little group. And even that gets tested later due to Essentia's holographic disguises.
Then there's Matt siccing his Sharpedo on Sapphire and Flannery, who are already drowning, apparently having gotten bored waiting on them to asphyxiate and deciding to make it a bloodbath instead. And Maxie burning Norman's corpse in front of Ruby, Norman's son. The RS arc is just about as bad as the XY arc in terms of trauma.
#pokemon xy&z#pokeani#anipoke#pokemon movies#pokemon secrets of the jungle#pokemon adventures#pokemon special#team aqua#team magma#pokemon ruby and sapphire#pokemon xy#pokemon x and y#pokemon black and white#ghetsis#pokemon ultra sm#pmd explorers#trainer alain#lysandre
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Scouring a Q&A archive for realmslore, as I am wont to do, and seeing people being semi-officially (officially?) directed to Lords of Darkness when they ask about Realms-specific undead lore even in the 5e era is amusing, and also validating (I love that book. I love how creating tomb guardians/mummies works in the Realms: it's so fucked up. I love the Bhaalist mummy and his relationship problems. I want my Bhaalist to get mummified.)
But anyway the concept that that lore holds in 5e Toril is darkly hilarious to me for reasons, because you'd be applying this to BG3:
Greater and Lesser vampires: Toril does in fact have rare daylight walking vampires! They're created when a succubus kills you by kissing you (ie draining your life force and consuming your soul during make out sessions/sex) and then your corpse rises again as a soulless undead horror that can walk in sunlight. Other than the daywalking a greater vampire is exactly like a normal vampire.
And I'm just... You can get your soul eaten by a fiend in game: can you imagine Astarion's reaction if - after being dumb enough to get fucked to death by Haarlep I know they don't kill you in-game, humour me - you came back as a vampire able to walk in the sun right off the bat? Either he's going to be insanely envious (why do you get everything he wants through an act of terminal stupidity), or he's going to be extremely put out that he isn't special. "There are no vampires like me" Are you sure babe? Bet?
Also as far as Toril is concerned with undeath in its own setting: undeath is evil, as are all of it's sources and all acts of inflicting it upon somebody (except for Baelnorn), but the undead are people and a bit more complicated. Not necessarily terribly nice people, who are monsters and sometimes have to do horrible things due to their nature, but they have control of their actions do damage control and decide not to be total bastards. (Most are total bastards). There are folk stories and legends of protective ancestors and helpful undead, and some undead hunters are wont to let "sleeping undead lie" if they're not bothering anyone. Interestingly I also saw something today that some undead hunting is actually done by undead, who don't appreciate other, less pragmatic and/or morally inclined undead being more evil and destructive than they need to be ("‘nuisance’ undead") and risking encouraging hatred/fear of the undead and angry mobs amongst the living: do you mind, some of us are trying to unlive in relative peace here. How is a Lich supposed to study with clerics breaking down their door, you animals??
Different source again, but D&D's token "good" vampire is a Torilian native (and by "good" I mean Chaotic Neutral and messy, and currently being warped and tormented by the Dark Powers of Ravenloft who enjoy a good chew toy). Toril does have another "good" vampire in official material, but he's been cursed to be Lawful Good and would explicitly go back to being a monster if you lifted that curse, so methinks he doth not count.
#babbling#/astarion#Jander and Jonathon are both elves oddly#Why are all the potentially non-evil vampires on Toril elves
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Elain focused on her breathing, trying to steady them. 1, 2, 3. She had had the dream again. The dream that was not a dream, but an unfortunate reality she had to relive every time she fell asleep.
Her father, who had died in front of their very eyes. Her father who had been depressed and disabled for much of his life, but came back to fight for them in the end. Who had been so heartlessly murdered by the King of Hybern.
She took a shaky breath as the tears began to fall down her face. She missed her father so badly, but she could not speak to this with her sisters, who had resented him greatly. And she understood, she really did, but...it would be nice to speak to someone who truly loved him for once.
Alas, there was no one to speak to but a cold grave. Getting up, Elain brushed her hair, sweeping it into an elegant bun. She hesitated, looking at the coat in the closet before deciding she didn't have the strength to fight her need for comfort. She threw on the coat, savoring the lingering scents on it.
Nobody else appeared to be awake. Good. She wished to take this journey alone without being followed or questioned. She wasn't stupid; she knew Nuala and Cerridwen had been set on her to keep track of her movements. Well, there was little she could do to counter that. At least she could befriend them and try to get them on her side so she could gain benefits.
The entire Inner Circle would probably faint with shock if they saw that Elain had taken such a long journey on her own two feet. It's not proper for a lady to walk this far! She's too delicate to walk this much! Pahhh. They always seemed to forget that they would all be dead were it not for her killing the King of Hybern. It wasn't something she much liked to talk about because of her aversion to violence, but some days she wished to scream it so that they'd think she's actually worth something.
Hell, Cassian would be dead too were it not for her. He had lost so much blood due to the shredded wings that he had been inches away from death. Elain had used her healing powers on him, and Cassian, half-delirious with blood loss, had not realized what she'd done. Not even Elain knew how she'd done it, considering when Feyre had been bleeding and dying months later, she had been unable to summon the powers again, no matter what she did.
The only good thing about that was that Nesta had managed to save them and the Inner Circle didn't know about her raw magic, otherwise they would find a way to use her too. No, better they think her a useless silly little thing.
As she walked towards the headstone, to her surprise, she already found somebody there, kneeling beside him. For a wild moment, Elain thought that it might be Nesta. She knew she had somewhat made her peace with him recently, so it wasn't entirely out of the realm. She began to run towards her father's resting spot, crying out, "Nesta!" The person beside the grave turned around. Elain's words died in her throat.
"You're-you're not Nesta." Way to be fucking obvious, Elain. But she could hardly think with him near her. When she wasn't dreaming of her father's death and stabbing the King of Hybern, she was dreaming of him.
Well, shit. She was wearing the cloak Lucien had given her that day by the Cauldron. How embarrassing. Her face went beet red as Lucien's eyes focused on her, taking note of her bare legs and the cloak around her shoulders. Her body began to pulse everywhere from her chest to between her legs, and she knew Lucien could hear it. She clenched her hands in her dress, resisting the urge to grab him at that very moment and kiss him senseless. That would be highly inappropriate; they were at her father's grave, for god's sake.
"Elain," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear it, leaping to his feet and bowing to her. "Apologies, lady. I shall leave you to grieve in peace."
Elain grabbed his wrist as he was about to leave. How could she have forgotten? He'd known her father. He'd gone to the continent and brought him back based on her vision. "Please," she breathed. "Stay."
Lucien looked at her hand then back into her eyes. "Ok," he said slowly. He lowered himself down to the grave again, Elain going with him. They sat there in comfortable silence for some time before Elain whispered, "You knew him. My father."
"Yes, I knew Tristan. He was a good man, at least in the time I knew him," he replied. "Feyre never seemed too fond of him, though."
Elain sighed. "Feyre and Nesta never forgave him for leaving us to fend for ourselves during poverty."
"Well, I can't blame them." Elain opened her mouth to protest, but he went on. "But he'd lost his wife and could hardly walk. I don't blame him for hurting either. He tried his best, in the end, to do right by you girls."
Elain nodded. "Poor Papa. Feyre and Nesta were always snapping at him for making his little wood carvings instead of finding a way out of poverty. Perhaps if they'd been a little gentler with him, he might have..." a sigh. "Anyway, he's gone now."
Lucien squeezed her hand. "No one dies as long as their reputation lasts." Elain snorted lightly. "Are you some sort of philosopher or something?" Lucien raised his brows teasingly. "Maybe I am."
Elain couldn't resist smiling back. "What was he like? Papa. With you."
Lucien smiled reminiscently. "He was a very single-minded person. He might have only been human, yet he could command a room with his voice. Very charming, very forthright. And he couldn't shut up about you girls." He laughed. "I remember when I finally told him that we're mates, he grilled me for hours. About my birth, my occupations, my habits. Internally I was terrified of disappointing him, but at the end he just handed me a drink and said, 'You don't look quite like the man I imagined my Elain will marry, but you certainly act like the man I want her to marry.' Then he told me stories about all your childhoods for the rest of the night."
Elain beamed. That sounded a lot more like her father before their family had been lost to poverty. It made her happy that her father was able to be more like himself with someone before he'd left. "Thank you for telling me this," she murmured. "It's nice to talk to someone who knew him as I did."
Lucien inclined his head. "Happy to be of service, my lady."
Elain leaned her head against his shoulder and did not move for a long time.
Inspired by the post I saw a while ago saying Lucien visits Papa Archeron's grave!
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Quickfire hot take but, even though I totally grasp each of us having favorite regens of the doctor and the master, both individually and together, as symbols of their ever-evolving positions along their personal and relationship journey.... I will never ever understand fan (or canon...) portrayals that draw such a sharp line of favoritism from the characters themselves.
Missy said "they're all the Doctor to me" when recalling a memory to Clara, and to me that encapsulates the enduring nature of their intense bond. To me that is THE line. Regeneration is a form of death and rebirth, but certain core traits are immutable, particularly to two people who are narrative foils, who have known each other for centuries (or possibly millennia) and keep being thrown together by fate again and again and again.
Bottom line is, every Doctor is the same person, and so is every Master. Acting as though one of them only cares for select versions of the other is just so strange to me. They aren't us. To them, it's just like loving (or hating, or both) someone through the eras of their life. Their same life, broken down into stages od evolution and devolution. It's the same person.
I can point to the exact episode (a lol very polarizing episode in Series 10) where I think this "they're not the same person from face to face" trend got exponentially more pronounced, but anyone who knows me knows what that episode is. I truly believe it's a disservice to every version of every Doctor and Master involved.
And I really don't think that Spydoc, which came soon thereafter, is just the playing-out of the consequences of a MASSIVE miscommunication between soul mates. It IS that, but not JUST. I think all of the writing about Thoschei that followed the exacerbating episode was trying to force this inaccurate distortion, this illusion of separateness, which is part of what made the events in Power of the Doctor so painful to Thoschei fans. The Doctor walked away from the Master (literally and figuratively, ironically inviting his inevitable despair--and her own demise) partly out of understandable hurt and rage and caution, but also out of a cold, repulsed misunderstanding: "Missy was willing to change and you regressed, you're a different person than she was, and you have angered me to the point of indifference; I am able to turn off caring about you because you are unrecognizable from her, the version of you that I could control save."
Maybe Whittaker's response is intended by Chibnall: we're supposed to recognize that she's wrong but HAS to be in order to survive another betrayal by the Master, which is what makes it all so tragic.
But I think fan reception has taken the whole thing ( "each Doctor and each Master is an entirely discrete self-contained being") too far, and it bothers me, so much, I think, because it's a trope that enforces the idea that love is transactional and contingent (in such a way that also perhaps unwittingly targets the socially, culturally, and economically marginalized). If you're the "good, small, manageable version" of yourself, then you're easier to love, and it's worth the investment. Otherwise, "you gambled and you lost," and you deserve to die lying in the filth of your own poor decisions. I get why that's an appealing, vindicting plot device, from the POV of an audience member who has felt hurt or even abused IRL. I understand it, I've BEEN the Doctor many times. It just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe that's just me. I could be at peace with that, as a Whovian :P.
But, in-universe, it's based on a premise that's factually erroneous! Dhawan's Master IS Missy IS Delgado IS Simm IS Jacobi IS Ainley IS Roberts IS Beevers etc etc etc. Just as Whittaker's Doctor is a RESPONSE to Capaldi's, but ALSO still IS Capaldi's. And Tennant's. And Baker's (x2). And Eccleston's. And Gatwa's. And Pertwee's. Etc etc. Dhawan's Master was the Prime Minister of the UK and also made chairs that eat people and also cried remembering the names of people she killed. It's the SAME PERSON.
Lol, not quickfire at all. It's an old bone to pick, I know. I just can't stop finding the whole trope...very itchy.
(ok to reblog...dunno if anyone would, LOL, but feel free to reblog and to comment).
I'm gonna tag some ppl I know I've chatted about this with before to see if there are new insights. And feel completely free to disagree with me on any count. @natalunasans @mostincrediblechange @drummingncise @modernwizard @nickcagestrufflehog @rearranging-deck-chairs @koschei-no-more @likeacharacterinamusical
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Oh you're sad that your favorite character is dead???? Well none of my faves are dead bc I have been living in denial (reading fanfic) since 2011. Y'all stay safe tho
#ash is living in japan with eiji#thorin fili and kili see erebor prosper and dis watches her family grow instead of shrink#tony stark watches morgan and peter grow up#natasha romanoff is healing with her sister#primrose everdeen grows old#rue grows old#maes hughes adds more children to dote after in his family and sobs at every milestone they reach#flapjack and waffle are besties and pester hunter into selfcare#they all get to know peace in life and not death#''you're delulu'' yeah i've been reading fic since i was 11 and imagining fics for as long as i can remember idk what to tell you#fanfic#fix it fic#ash lynx#eiji okumura#banana fish#thorin oakenshield#kili#fili#tony stark#natasha romanoff#primrose everdeen#rue hunger games#maes hughes#flapjack toh
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im not being funny but humphrey from ghosts has the most raw fucking story and it seems almost unintentional. like he's literally comic relief with not much screentime but if you think about it too closely doesn't it evoke like. extreme existential horror??
like man was lonely for basically his entire life and then got accidentally decapitated after sacrificing himself for a woman who resented him so she could have a better life, even though he also didn't get the life he wanted. it wasn't even a heroic death lol. then he spent hundreds of years separated from his body alone in death too because nobody ever remembers him... like im fully aware its not meant to be this serious but jesus christ, humphrey's story isn't even a tragedy, it's straight up hell lol
#bbc ghosts#humphrey bone#bbc ghosts humphrey#i know it's also that larry rickard plays robin too and that's why humphrey isn't a big character but jesus#it all just contributes to the hell that is this man's story#like bro he doesn't even know if sophie managed to get that new life#how did the others not immediately decide to be a little nicer to the man who lived a lonely life and a lonely death#i hope he gets to move on cuz damn. give this man peace
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they honestly couldve done so much with junpei beheaded/dismembered and im disappointed that it ended up just being mira. so much of his character and his relationship with akane is characterized by his lack of bodily autonomy, and him being openly beheaded during the nonary games would be the ultimate example of this. its perhaps the most brutal death in the game, and it never really gets explained or developed beyond the one puzzle that we get with it. junpei has been shown repeatedly to be subject to akane's plans or follow her blindly and i just think that would have been a really interesting angle to approach his beheading from. junpei has willingly signed up for nonary games in two different timelines just because he knew he would see her. he was infected with a deadly virus trying to find her. he grew desensitized to death as he took underground jobs to try and find her. his safety always comes second when shes in the picture, and his beheading wouldve been a prime opportunity to 1. exploit his willingness to let himself die/be injured for her and 2. make akane confront the fact that her confidence that junpei will always follow after her is not necessarily a positive thing.
#zero escape#additionally wasnt mira supposed to be asleep?? like i know she didnt get the forget juice but didnt she still get knocked out?#but also!! none of her other kills were like that! none of them were dismembered and she didnt touch junpeis chest#so even that reasoning doesnt make sense#kinda feels like a copout to keep the shock of junpei being disrespected in such a way - to have his very body turned into a puzzle#a puzzle that akane is forced to solve!!! without knowing that what shes looking for is his head - him!#theres so much potential there and they just didnt do anything#im not even saying that akane should have somehow been responsible for that death - only that not having her really grapple with it is such#a missed opportunity#i still fucking LOVE the imagery of it though. i really think its the epitome of the representations of his lack of autonomy#he loses all of vlr. quark. 45 years of his life. because akane decides this is best for him. he dies repeatedly trying to find her.#because she believes that she knows what will keep him safe#and turning junpeis body into a puzzle posthumously is a fantastic example of his lack of control over his body#its like hes literally become a doll. hes jumpydoll - not junpei. hes subject to these games even after he has died.#he gets no peace. no respect in his death. not when hes in these games. not when hes in the shadow of akanes whims and games.#i still love the imagery. i think it was one of my favorite parts of ztd and is honestly now a core tenet of my Junpei Understanding#but i was disappointed in the lack of narrative weight that specific death had. for him to be one of the first dead? for it to be in such a#brutal manner? like come ON. the character analysis for junpei and akane and their relationship is RIGHT THERE. all you had to do was put i#in the game#but nope.#they just handwave it as something mira did.#and dont bring up the details ever again because. plot point solved?#anyway. ive been thinking about junpei imagery and bodily autonomy a lot. obviously.#zero escape spoilers#mak no peeking#marydontlookatthis
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Father!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥
#caluuart#genshin impact#genshin#art#arlecchino#god she's just so. cool. pretty. ethereal. badass.#also I LOVE HER STORY QUEST SO MUCH!! I think it's definitely one of the best story quests in the game tbh.#wait uh arlecchino story quest spoilers below:#for one; the quest really gives even more depth to arlecchino's character. like yeah the whole thing is well. messed up.#it's an orphanage that raises orphans to be child soldiers after all. But it's also like. It's more.... humane? nicer? for the fatui anyway#which does bring me to the next thing. you know how arlecchino's like “if you're gonna leave the HotH you need to fight for it with ur life#I genuinely think that she's gonna just. straight up kill them. although it's not unlikely at all it turns out that (most of the time?) she#-just gives them a one trip to memory loss and set them free. which i do know it's kinda like death in genshin's lore but still.#I just find that pretty interesting.#also the cutscene where clervie says goodbye n stuff. It makes me cry EVERY TIME. ARGHHHH TRAGIC CHILDHOOD DOOMED YURI MY BELOVED :(((#clervie makes me so sad man. the fact that she just. accepts death. she really just let peruere kill her huh. crucabena when I fucking get#the hopelessness getting to her at that point. all attempts of freedom failed until that day..... GOD. and clervie finally getting closure-#-in the story quest as a spirit... I just..... man.........#on a lighter note :)#I got obsessed with a bloodborne OST LMAO. the uhh the lugwig boss theme. esp the sec phase one. it's SO GOOD. I first heard abt it in a-#-vid analyzing the ost musically. At the time i was like. woah. cool. what a cool sounding track. fast foward to like. a day before 4.6#I'm watching a genshin theory video and I heard the music in the bg. I recognized it but I couldn't remember where I heard it from#UNTIL I REMEMBERED. and looked it up. And I have not known peace since. good music.#anw I've been rambling too much so yeah. gn my dear fellows!!
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So either Wilt turned into a giant phillips head screwdriver offscreen, they’re trying to imply that Beacon wasn’t the first time Adam stabbed Blake, or the writers forgot their character’s canonical injuries. Again
#rwde#a good portion of my current essay is dedicated to talking abt the abuse the show tried to push so currently rewatching/researching#granted ive never experienced anything like this so im merely speculating w the info ive gathered thus far#but#i find it so hard to believe that adam prior to the separation was abusive bc blake doesnt show any signs of it while at beacon#if adam was violent enough to stab her before then shouldnt she be terrified for her life even while safe inside beacons walls?#shouldnt she be jumping at every sound or constantly having a death grip on gambol shroud like she does in v4?#the contrast between the two is genuinely startling#blake after the trailer is reclusive and aloof but shes got zero problems getting in peoples faces when needed#shes full of life and confidence which is a total contrast to her post beacon where shes paranoid and confused#and not once does she ever talk abt adams treatment of her. every issue she talks abt in 4 is abt her participating in the wfs violence#i cant tell if the writers didnt know how to write an abuse recovery arc or if they forgot#actually its probs along the lines of they cant write multiple things at once#thats why every time they talk blake is all 'peace not war' and adams like 'this is my yandere phase'#their dialogue doesnt match its hilarious and infuriating
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okay I thought about the similarities between jfm and jc's unrequited crushes who prefer their 'servant's' company to their own and it looped around from being tragic to being really funny again. jc pined after wq so clumsily and unsuccessfully with the stupid fucking comb she didn't care about because SHE AND HER FAMILY WERE POLITICAL TARGETS AT THE TIME and HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW HER AT ALL and she 100% always preferred the company of wwx, who was genuinely fun to be around, as intelligent and selfless as she was, understood and respected the delicate political position she was in, treated her like an individual, knew what was important to her, helped her family, and sacrificed everything for her safety. wq literally would rather have lived a doomed life in a starving refugee camp with wwx and her family than accept a marriage proposal from jc, jc wq shippers how does it feel to be fucking clowns
#you can say that decision was just for her family. but you could tell how much she loved wwx too and how little she cared about jc#he sucks to be around and whoever is in his life just needs to be someone who's inexplicably into that and it is NOT wq#she has her own shit she can't be babying him and soothing his self-esteem issues!!! the cultivation world had her family in a death camp#like WHAT would be the appeal here???? 'he cares about his family like she does' actually he publicly denounced his brother who is her#really good friend so...????? no?????? do they think she thinks he's hot??? isn't that a little superficial???#his sarcasm and prickliness don't gel with her sincerity and guardedness. she wouldn't like his joking roughhousing and she's more mature#than all that anyway....also I can't think of a single time he even looked wen ning's way pre-ss and wn is THE most important person to her#and its actually disgustingly ooc to see how jc wq shippers just act like he doesn't exist. bc what they can't pretend he'd get along with#wn effectively? but that's wen ning!!!! how is she married to someone who doesn't care about him or even hates him!#WHERE'S THAT POST LIKE#jc: lady wen may I rub thine feet? feed you grapes?#wq: uhhhh#wwx: hey wq!#wq: wei wuxian! *they do a 15 step handshake*#jc: okay guys I'll just be uhh. over here#wwx and wq: laughing together#UGH she was so great. travesty of the century that she died like that for the emotional development of a male character!!!#I really do like wq tho I don't really know what to say about her. she was a solemn character who knew her ending far before anyone else di#and didn't fight it for her own sake only for her family's#I just hope she was able to be at peace in the end. it seems so cruel that she was ripped away from the only person she truly wanted#to be with forever#ALSO her entire thing is repaying debts!!! which he categorically FAILED to do!!! she wouldn't respect that or find it admirable/attractive#he probably looked like a fucking impotent self-centered coward. which he WAS! SHE SAVED HIS LIFE!!!!#cql txp
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The need is so bad that I can’t go one moment of mind wandering without thinking of that One Lesbian Weed Scene from The Last of Us pt II. Iykyk…. (suffering)
#that moment…….. the…. intimacy and knowingness and teasing and love and touch and comfortability and confrontation#and it was one of the ONLY times they got to truly be free for a moment…..#(also dina crawled on top of her like ‘heh. i could give you bite marks 😼’ AND???? NSBSKXHS ???)#(the way ellie had something serious to say but just rebooted immediately aaagh she was all ‘uh- 😳.. errrh 😟 heheh uhh- WELL’)#AND MEANWHILE….. JOEL……….#their one moment of true peace and privacy for a moment. and that’s a moment ellie will be guilty for for the rest of her life….#because she missed the opportunity to prevent Joel’s DEATH!!!!#SOOOOOOOOBS#IMAGINE THE PRESSURE THAT SHE PUT ON HERSELF WHEN SHE WENT TO GO SAVE HIS BROTHER!!!! LIKE!! SHE CANT LET THEM DOWN AGAIN!!!!!!!!!#THE WAY HE WOULD BE KILLED BY THE SAME PEOPLE AND HE’S JOEL’S BROTHER TOO!! LIKE. NOT ONLY THE REMINISCENCE OF JOEL#BUT SHE KNOWS THAT EVERYONE AND JOEL WOULD BE SO DISAPPOINTED IF SHE FAILS!!!!#in her mind I imagine anyway.#god. god#elliedina#the last of us#tlou pt 2#tlou part ii#tlou 2 spoilers#Ellie#Dina#gummii.txt#not many people will get this one BUT I HAD TO PUT IT OUT THEREEE it’s taken over my brain
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