#and actually i am the most confident man alive

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Jack Rebaldi's bombastrap really hits different.

[b4kuch1n]

what this fic's gotten to so far is a collection of extremely specific experiences

[lydiimae]

Guardian Angel

Pairing:

MDI 18+

Warnings: Opium powder use, mentions of drinking, high Benedict, Benedict being an insecure cutie pie, fluffy fluff hehe

WordCount: 2.2k

A.N: Hello my loves! I'm sorry for my lack of posting, I've been sick and I've finally started work. I am still trying to find a schedule where I can post and have time for other things. For now, have some lovely Benny fluff while we all wait for part two of Season 3 to come out. I love you! <3 P.S. Thank you for 200 followers OMG I love you all so much.

Marrying Benedict Bridgerton was the easiest decision you have ever had to make. The two of you grew up alongside each other, the rumors of a proposal coming when you debuted, and the actual proposal occurring only two months into the season. It was an easy choice, a choice you were happy you made. He made you feel alive. He filled a part of your soul you did not know was missing before you met him. Even in the hardest times of your marriage.

Benedict, like many other men, has insecurities. He keeps them hidden well behind an air of confidence, but you know better. He never was jealous of Anthony, but rather scared that he would always be looked at as the lesser son. The spare. He just did not understand what you saw in him. He saw himself as a man without purpose, a man who could not provide the life you wanted. He believed you when you said that was not true, but there was always a little voice in the back of his mind that made him doubt himself.

You knew this well. He was less talented at hiding his feelings when he was a child and had shared many of them in your many late nights on the hills of Aubrey Hall. Though now, these insecurities only rear their ugly heads when Benedict has had a few too many to drink. Or, as is the case tonight, too much of the strange tea Colin buys him.

You get out of the carriage with your maid and footman, John, after he had come to get you claiming that Benedict had had far too much tea. A result of drunken carelessness by his younger brother. You rush up the front steps and into your townhouse, taking off your cloak before bouncing up the stairs toward his studio. You sigh as you walk in to find your bohemian husband on the floor of the studio with a canvas in front of him, smearing paint on it with his fingers without a care in the world. It would be an adorable sight if you were not worried out of your mind.

You walk to him and sit down next to him, watching as his glassy eyes sweep over the floor before meeting your own. "Ah! My love!" He exclaims, his demeanor immediately brightening as he drapes his paint-stained arms around your middle, his cheek resting against your shoulder. You hum, not bothering with the wet paint that stains the dark blue fabric of your gown as you wrap your arms around him. "I have been seeing visions, darling." He mumbles into your skin as you run your fingers through his curls.

"Have you now?" You murmur as you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips turn up into a loopy smile. The most adorable sight you have seen in a while. "Mm. Colorful visions. I had to paint them as quick as I could, had to feel the smoothness of my oils on the canvas." He says, pulling back to look at you. You grin when his eyes focus on yours, one of his paint-covered hands coming to rest on your cheeks leaving a beautiful mess of blues and purples in its wake.

He studies your face for a moment longer before crawling, quite clumsily, over to a clear canvas. "Benedict?" You call softly, moving to sit next to him as you watch a beautiful image come to life on the canvas. It wasn't anything, but at the same time, there was something so divine about how he is painting.

After about an hour he stops, looking up at you with that darling crooked smile. "Look, Y/n. It is you. How I see you." He whispers, resting his head on your shoulder. You smile and look down at the mess of colors for a moment, believing that this canvas full of swirls might truly be how your husband looks at you in this state. "It is stunning, my love." You murmur, pressing a kiss to his brow before returning your attention to the painting. "Shall I explain it to you?" He slurs, his attention solely on you.

You hum and nod, returning your attention back to him. He smiles giddily, laying back and pulling you on top of him. "It is as if... I tried to capture a dream." He slurs, pressing his lips to your nose. "A whisper of our love, tangled in colors and chaos. This mess of lines and splashes, it is you and me, dancing through the storms and the sunbeams. It is...it is us." He stumbles, weaving paint-streaked fingers through your hair. Even in his most inebriated moments, he never ceases to take your breath away.

With a wavering smile and glassy eyes, he gestures to the canvas, his voice thick with emotion, "You see, my love, it is as if you are my guardian angel. This painting...it is not just colors. It is you. You are in every swirl, every splash...." He grins, watching your eyes shimmer with tears. "You are the light in the chaos, guiding me, saving me from myself. Each stroke is like your touch, soft but powerful, keeping me safe, lifting me higher. It is a tribute to you, my protector, my guiding star. My love, my guardian angel." He mumbles, and you break.

Tears begin rolling down your cheeks and you bury your face into his neck, making him laugh, his hands smearing paint up and down the back of your gown as he tries to comfort you. "You need not be saved from yourself, Benedict." You whisper after a moment, pulling back and wiping your eyes. "My God, if only you could see yourself as beautifully as I see you." You whisper, pulling him up into a sitting position. "Y/n... I have only ever needed saving from myself." He slurs, though even through his inebriation you can sense the deep sadness that lingers somewhere deep within his soul.

"You are the most remarkable man I have ever known, and I am utterly captivated by every part of you—your brilliance, your kindness, your passion. To me, you are perfect, even in your moments of doubt and struggle." You whisper, cupping his cheeks. "You are my world, and I am here to stand by you through every storm." You vow, brushing away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks with your thumbs.

"My Y/n." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours as he sniffles. "My Benedict." You return, sitting on his lap as his arms encircle your waist. You shift his head into the crook of your neck and allow him to cry for a moment, rocking him side to side as he does. He rarely ever shows this kind of emotion. In a way it is comforting, to know that the man you married still feels just as intensely as he did when you were first wed. You press a kiss to his head and he nuzzles your neck.

You sit with him on the floor of his studio for about an hour, and when he finally calms down you help him to the master bedroom. He falls back on the bed without even a sound of protest, moving his arms so you can help him undress. You grin and bend down, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you unbutton his shirt. Once it is off, you move onto his trousers. Then, when he is completely bare, you tuck his already sleeping form into bed.

You walk into the closet, laying his paint-stained clothes out on the chair for the maids to collect in the morning before changing into a nightgown yourself. Once you are ready for bed, you crawl in next to your husband, combing your fingers through his hair and watching as he smiles in his sleep. You wish that he will remember every word of what you said in the morning, but the logical part of you knows that he will not. Even so, you shall keep saying the things you did tonight until he believes them. You close your eyes, falling into a slumber right next to him, your fingers still curled into his hair.

He wakes far before you do at the crack of dawn, a usual occurrence when he has overindulged. He groans, rubbing a hand over his aching forehead. He cannot remember getting into bed or the events that transpired before he did, though he remembers bits and pieces. The image of the deep blue gown you came home wearing, the way your hair fell around your shoulders when he ran his hands through it, the sparkle of tears in your eyes...

He sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, his eyes immediately drifting over to your sleeping figure. He grins at the image before him. You look like an angel, sleeping on your stomach with your hair sprawled against your back and your lips parted ever so slightly. His grin only widens when you let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your eyebrows furrowing. He hums as he bends down, kissing down the notches of your spine.

You wake at the tingly feeling it sends through your body, grinning at the warmth that blooms in your chest. "Good morning." He murmurs from above you, brushing your hair out of your face just as you open your eyes. "Good morning." You whisper back, your hand coming up to rest over his. He looks heavenly, the morning light from the windows behind him making him look like a God. "You are positively beautiful in the morning, Ben." You hum as you stretch out, and he laughs. "No more beautiful than you, my heart." He returns, taking you into his arms and pulling you up to a sitting position.

You smile as he sits you in his lap, your arms settling loosely around his neck. "Do you remember anything about last night?" You murmur and he shakes his head, stroking your hair. "Just bits and pieces, I suppose." He hums, yawning as you press a kiss to his forehead. "You made a beautiful painting and then made me cry with your explanation." You smile and he laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "I am happy to know that my poetic tendencies do not fade when I am intoxicated." He grins and you giggle. "If anything they only grow stronger." You return, closing your eyes as the two of you lean on each other.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you decide to bring up the second part of last night. "You also expressed some insecurities, Ben. Like you always do." You whisper as you open your eyes. His eyes meet yours and he sighs, pulling back to rest his chin upon your head. "You need not worry about me, my love" He murmurs and you shake your head, pulling back and cupping your cheeks. "I do need to worry about you, Benedict. You are my husband. The man I am so hopelessly enamored with, the man I adore even when he is mumbling gibberish on the floor of his studio." You whisper.

He averts his gaze to your lap, playing with your fingers. "I said something foolish when I was intoxicated, Y/n. It is truly not worrisome. I do it often." He mumbles. "You said you needed saving from yourself, that is incredibly worrisome." You whisper and he sighs, looking up at you. "What if I am not enough?" He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. "Whatever do you mean?" You breathe and he shrugs. "Just that. What if I am not enough, for you? What if you wake up one day and realize that I am a man with no purpose who creates silly paintings in his studio all day?" He asks.

"Benedict. You mustn't say that." You whisper, getting teary. When he begins to speak, you shake your head bringing him closer. "When I look at you, I see a man of incredible talent, passion, and depth. Your paintings are not silly; they are a reflection of your soul, a testament to your creativity and the beauty you see in the world. Each brushstroke is a piece of your heart, and I am in awe of the masterpieces you create. Every single one." You whisper, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He gives you a wobbly smile as he tries not to cry.

"But beyond your art, it is you—your kindness, your compassion, your strength, and your gentle spirit—that I cherish most. You give my life meaning and fill my days with joy and love. Your presence is a gift, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we share. I adore you more than any star in the sky. My love, you mustn't doubt that my love for you will never ebb." You continue and he smiles through tears as you pepper his face with kisses. You stay like that for a while, his forehead resting against your shoulder as you let him cry.

"It seems I married a woman who is just as poetic as I." He whispers after a long while, making you burst out in laughter. He pulls back with a crooked grin, peppering your face with kisses now. "My love, my light...." He whispers.

"How I adore you, my guardian angel." He murmurs.

[matchadobo]

KIDD; wedding headcanons

warning/s: partial nsfw but no occurrence of the actual thing, super fluff i died and alived

i'll fix the formatting lateeeerr >:) red ones are individual bullets while white ones are subheadings of the previous red one (hope that makes sense)

* when you bring the question to him he'll be like:

* "me? you wanna marry me?" he'd point to himself.

* "yes, silly! who else?!"

* "i-i mean," he'll instantly become red and start fumbling over his words. "i-i was supposed to pop the damn question out..."

* you best bet it'll be a full blown steampunk wedding! he'd want it to be in the victoria but it's also fine with him if you'd want a beach or garden wedding so long as the theme stays. this i what i think he'll be wearing, the aesthetic of the event, and what your gown'll be.

* during preparations, he'd mostly leave it up to you so long as you follow his color palette: red and blacks. but when it comes to foods, he'd be keen on having an attendance while you taste test and choose out stuff.

his and your fits

* before your wedding day, he'd be soooo anxious. i have this thought that when you two are individually out on your bachelor/ette parties, he'd be calling you by the end of it just cuz he can't sleep.

* "it's pretty late, kidd. did your party just finished?"

* "yeah, every one's knocked out of their damn minds. and apparently, i can't fuckin' sleep."

* "hmm, nervous?"

* "like the fuck i am." he'd try to deny it but eventually give in. "i wanna see you before i sleep."

* "but you know the superstition-"

* "fuck that shi-"

* "no! i don't want any bad luck!"

* "luck? baby, we defy all odds, don't we?"

* he'd insist but you'll also insist. so he just settled on an overnight call where you two slept in.

* during the wedding day, you two'll be tired as fuck because the only sleep you guys got was 2-3 hours because of talking and comforting each other until 5 😭. while getting ready, kidd will be more impatient and irritated than usual. but it's just due to the combination of weariness and anxiety. mostly anxiety. he never felt this anxious when it comes to you, he'd always be confident about how you two felt about each other. but right now, all he thinks if he's sure or not. if you're sure with him. eustass kidd never doubts, but he feels so deeply for you he'd never want to hurt you and that brings him to a wall. the people involve with him that day had a hard time working with him because his attitude is extraaa mean 😔

* but when he sees you at the end of the aisle as you donned a dress that looked way too good on you it was insane to him, all his worries left his body through a tear that cascaded down his eye.

* "you crying?" killer nudged kidd, noticing the taller to reach over his breast pocket to fish out the hanky.

* "shut up, you ain't the one doing the marryin'."

* i imagine his vows to reflect the kind of person he is, passionate and brute about it. he'll be soooo poetic it'd surprise you.

* "where do i even start fuck-" you'd giggle along with the audience. "i do lotsa damn declarations but this is makin' me shy, jeez."

* "name," he'd sheepishly look at you. "you are my dream and i honestly curse the seas that i'd only found you nos and not at the time i needed you the most. and now i, for the life of me, can't imagine how i'd live without you."

* "i, eustass kid, will put hands on anyone who mess with my wife, if those fuckers think they're so big, well so am i, aye?! if she cries i'll cry with her, and trust me when i say i will kill any bastard who dares do her wrong, because that's my wife, they better not look at her cuz she's taken, she's mine. got it?"

* "you've learned to love me, an insufferable asshole, in ways i never thought possible. you've seen the worst and the best, the weak and the strong, the ugly and somehow the pretty in me. you make me a better man."

* "you conquered all my fears, seized my pride, and built my strength. you are the reason i became the way i am today. you crawled your way in 'ere and took control over my heart, you little monster."

* "from the start, i haven't exactly been kind to you. i mean, i've been rude, and disrespectful; but you grew on me, you were patient and measured up to my irritated ass... so much that I don't know what happened, you really snuck up on me... so may you forgive me my past dumb mistakes. because even if I am stupid and mean, and I may not show my love properly, I love you and will do anything to give you what you fuckin' deserve. you know that."

* "name is a great woman, one who stands and always fights for what she wants, and I want the honor of being your husband. we'll conquer anything, yeah?"

* "okay i'm very fucking embrassed now so i'll just come out and say it... I need to marry you, not because I love you, not because I like you, but because I have to to... yeah, I said it, I don't like you or love you, i need you in my fucking life."

* man he'd end up crying while saying them. but his voice wouldn't waver, it's eustass kidd come ooooon

* he'd be dramatic and give you the bridal kiss where you kind of hang mid air and he supports your back.

* reception would be firrrreee it'd be an absolute rave! you'd have your wedding dress be modified where you can discard the tulle or some shit to make the dress shorter.

* your guests and dearest friends each made a speech about your craziness with each other

* "kidd was so damn insane for this girl. one time, he asked me if he should get her an otter or dung beetle as a christmas present. bro doesn't even celebrate christmas until she came along!"

* "kidd stood out as one of name's partners, he was the first jackass she fell for that was actually a keeper."

* "i'm telling you, kidd became so self-conscious when he met name! he started worrying if his lipstick was the right shade or if his eyeliner looked neat!"

* "what confuses me was whenever they talked to me about each other, the word 'i hate' always comes first and them being whipped follows after. it was annoying."

* drinking games come after, trivias about the couple and between you two after. and as expected, it was competitive because neither of you wanted to lose and give way 🤣. kidd as a man, will never go easy and let you win tho. he respects you like that.

* but what prompted me to make this hc is the wedding garter tradition 🫦. this will be his favorite part. he'd be very extra tho,

* he'll take off his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves when you two are in front for the act.

* he'd maintain reaaaally strong eye contact and will be feeling himself while you burn red and start fanning yourself from laughing or actually feeling flustered under his gaze.

* he'd get under your dress, have a long whiff of that 🐱 and his breath'll tickle you bc he nasty like that, lick your thigh a little, give the flesh on your hips a squeeze, and drag the garter off with his teeth very very languidly

* he'll be very pouty when it's time to give it to the bestman tho

* then the actual rave comesss! blasting music and lights at the victoria, it didn't seem like a wedding reception. but you and kidd were in the center of it all, dancing with each other the same way you two met in a bar.

* "wanna get out of here?" he whispered with his hands on your hips, bending down to your ear due to the deafening beats.

* "hmm, ain't this familiar?" you giggled.

* "aye. this is the part where you come with me and we kiss at the back."

* "eh? that's different from what i remember. your mean ass was angry at me for stepping on your shoe." you poked at his nose while he laughed subtly.

* "shh shh, we both know how bad that ended. bar got fucked up real good." you two broke out in laughter, reminiscing at old times.

* kidd would inevitably drag you to his quarters, man's hungrryyyyy

* he'd be so desperate to take off your clothes, with how beautiful you look today and how he was deprived of you for a couple of nights

* you'd leave the deck making out, walkign sideways, backwards, u name it

* "it'd be pretty weird if the bride and groom's gone on their reception, right?" you broke out of the kiss.

* "and we don't give a shit about it, don't we?" he'd grin, tugging at your lips

* aaaand stuff thst happens in the honeymoon happened 😏

been in the works foR WAY TOO LONG

[naamahdarling]

Up front, I tagged this with pet death but nobody has died.

Bad situation under cut. I'm so lost.

Sid and Smooch are not eating properly. Raleigh is doing okay but his cancer may not be curable. The monthly expenses right now are running incredibly high, at least a third of what I bring in in benefits. Independent of our concerns for the cats, allowing this situation to continue is irresponsible on our part because it is negatively affecting our quality of life as well.

We may have to let one or more of them go. Just to afford trying to keep the others going. Which may not even work.

This situation is in no way the result of irresponsibility on our part. It was extremely unlikely that all three of them would become this ill at the same time, and the only way to truly prevent this would have been to rehome one or more of them when we blended families. (Like, that is the only point at which we could be accused of having done the wrong thing. You'd still have to be an asshole to actually say that, though. Love isn't math.)

Responsible vet care and pure good fortune (thank you all, THANK YOU) to be able to afford it is, in fact, why Sid and Smooch and Raleigh are still alive. There have been multiple points at which I have almost chosen to let Smooch go, for example. Raleigh and Sid have both had major health scares before, and we could still choose palliative care for Raleigh.

This is very nearly the worst situation I can imagine being in, because the choice is so hard to make. And because I know the most obvious one is the one I hate the most. Dried Pickle Man is so tired.

It is incredibly rare for this to be the case, I am generally confident and decisive with my pets' healthcare decisions, but this time I am completely at a loss for what to do.

I really don't know. I don't know what to do, guys. The best answer I have is still so bad.

[mschievousx]

now and then | b.b.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc

summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.

series masterlist

x. ten: live that way

it was the first time in a while that the sunlight touched her face and it did not hurt. she stirred awake, the light seemed to be poking her from sleep. raine tossed, pulling the sheets deeper to her.

"i was afraid you will not be here when i wake up."

his morning voice greeted her as he placed a hand on her head and played with her hair. ah yes, last night really did happen. she buried herself on his chest, taking in his natural smell.

she looked up at him, her lips grazing his collarbone as she spoke with a smile, "anthony and violet are going to kill us."

benedict chuckled lowly at her jest, "they will not."

she returned back to his chest, closing her eyes once again. he planted his face on top of her head, seemingly taking in her smell as well. this was it. these were the arms she has longed for—the comfort she has been seeking.

"i am too tired." her muffled voice resounded.

he planted a kiss on her for solace, "it is alright. i will be here."

raine pursed her lips, deciding if she should say anything about her grave situation later and ruin the moment or not. but as we have always known, she was a frank one. it would not be her if she wasn't.

"this may be the last time we will be together."

"then i will wait for you."

he replied with ease, professing confidence amidst the direness of everything around them.

raine was sure though—that the intensity of the situation has not sunk in on benedict yet. she was with him, alive and well right now. how easy it was to be lost in the blissfulness of the moment.

she slowly sat up, leaning for a kiss on his forehead as she removed herself from the sheets, "let us go. they will grow wary of our absence."

raine clothed herself as the man kept his eyes on her. she turned to him, instructing that he follow down after a couple of minutes to avoid suspicion from the family. she turned the knob, exiting the room silently.

as she looked up to walk, she was met with a viscount already staring curiously at her.

"what? it's my room. ho—how was the ball?" she said in a pitched voice, quite defensively, causing anthony to narrow his eyes at her.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

she ate quite the breakfast, treating it as if it was her last meal. at the very least, she was happy she ate with the bridgertons—the only family she has left.

after a meal for breakfast, she excused herself at once, quickly going to anthony's office with raphael in tow. they have been going back to back for strategies on what to do for more than two hours already, now settling in silence to let themselves take a breath. the colonel called for her out of the blue, the latter waiting for him to continue.

"lord high chancellor scott will be there."

she looked with confusion at that. raine was familiar of the man, yes, but she has not seen him ever.

"i do not know what he is like."

"raine, i have not told you one thing." he began, words laced with shame, "they took general's body."

in truth, she knew already. raphael would have done anything to bring her father to her even if a lifeless body. he would actually give his life to his superior since the general saved him before in the streets of homelessness too.

"i have figured, given that you returned alone without his remains. you would not have left if you could."

she tightly smiled at him, the most form of comfort they could achieve in this moment.

"it was him. he was there when they attacked our quarters, ordering his men." he revealed, regret in his voice on how he was not able to do anything to save the general in that time.

raine put her pen down, closing her eyes for a second before turning to him, "why are you telling me this just now?"

"i was debating myself whether i should." he replied with doubt. he knew how the girl can get mad easily sometimes, especially that concerning her family.

she stared out of nowhere, trying to think of something. an idea popped in her head as she spoke with a realisation, "we will use that to our advantage then."

"no, that's..." raphael seemed go have caught on what she was thinking. he showed his clear disagreement with her plan, "you will be charged for high treason."

"by questioning his person?" she scoffed at the idea of a soft high chancellor.

"by questioning his person, you are accusing him." the colonel retorted, his arms on his waist, thinking of other solutions as well.

"it is not an accusation if it is true."

"it is an accusation if we cannot prove it."

raine knew he was right. they could do nothing about it if they cannot prove it, "we can build the story around us, put the rest of the soldiers outside of it all."

he sat beside her on the couch, facing her calmly as if giving up, "they all knew what we were doing, raine. there was nothing like only the general and i. the whole troop knew the issue we found and the measures we were taking. they are all highly ranked men and were the most trusted by your father."

"i do not care." she said with a slam, staring him down with firm, "forty-six soldiers, raphael. forty-six."

despite her best efforts, a tear fell from her already luminous eyes. the thought that these men who should have been celebrated by their services are coming close to dishonor angers and pities her at the same time.

"i will not let you all die."

he placed a hand over hers, "we are soldiers. we have been prepared for this."

"not without dignity."

raine declared with might. she will make sure to turn the tables, and if it will not, she will fucking flip it over.

he could do nothing but nod slowly, accepting her point. he took a glimpse at his watch, ruffling the girl's hair as he stood up.

"it's noon."

she nodded, following the man outside the study, "gather them."

currently in the hallway, waiting for carriages after carriages to arrive, the second daughter caught sight of her and took her hand.

"raine, come. just for a while."

she followed the young woman up to her bedroom where penelope stands, waiting in anxiety. eloise gestured to the redhead as she offered.

"penelope can help you turn the people's favor to you."

getting a hint of what she was trying to say, raine tightly smiled at them, "lady whistledown?"

penelope stopped her tiny movements of unease as she turned to the silva, both of them asking her in chorus, "how did you know?"

"no," she ignored the question. she was a daughter of a general, of course she would know. she stepped towards the girl, addressing their idea to help, "i appreciate you both trying to help, but no. they knew of my father's activities and he was a general."

raine took the featherington's hands and held them softly, "my best bet is they know you are lady whistledown and is just letting you be for now since you have not attacked them directly."

"but you cannot go there like this." eloise voiced in distress and worry.

she did not realise that other people were being affected by her situation this much. the young silva thought she has managed to keep them off and away—enough that they would not need to worry. evidently, that was not the case.

"come here." and so, she placed each of her arms on the girls' shoulders, bringing them in on a tight hug. it may have been her imagination, but eloise let out a small sob as she wrapped her arms on her.

they exited the room after, descending it with begrudging steps. the carriages have arrived and are only waiting for them. the bridgertons gathered near the door to bid her farewell. she turned, addressing them for possibly the last time.

"i ask of you all, do not go anywhere near the palace."

the matriarch could not help herself but grab the girl, enveloping her in one of the warmest hugs the young one has ever received. violet kissed the top of her head, a gesture that says all will be well.

raine knew it was not going to be.

and so, she continued on her way, exiting the bridgertons' home to see the carriages lined up, all filled with soldiers. they waited for her to get in just as benedict came forward. he held her hand tightly, prompting her chin up as he caught her lips in his.

she tasted like heartache and war.

━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━

the twelve carriages that contained the forty-six soldiers and loraine silva arrived at the front of the palace in a processional manner. a significant number of citizens have gathered. at the sight of the hottest topic of the town—the country, even—some were yelling in support to them and some against.

the viscountess, the colonel, and the major sat on the first carriage, the men exiting first. she followed, not sparing any look to the people. they could not affored to cheer nor smile. this was the deciding moment of their future.

raphael and raine entered the palace alone, the soldiers all lined up in a row outside, facing the people. they were greeted coldly and strictly by both royal guards and other military that she was sure must have interacted with her father at least once. they were guided into different rooms. she was given nothing but the wary and observing gazes of the unknown soldiers guarding her.

the colonel has been away for more than an hour now. she understood that they were interrogating him first, squeezing all the details before they would deal with her nuisance. not later than her own planning of her statements in her head, the door opened to reveal the man, head leveled properly. but, she could tell. that it was only his rank that made him still have the dignity to raise his head. however, the inner raphael? she could see him conceding and casting the head downwards.

she was prompted to stand up, them crossing each other as she left the room and walked towards where raphael came from. the doors opened to reveal the queen, brimsley behind, and the lord high chancellor with two other parliamentary members and two decorated generals, it seems.

raine sat across them all as lord scott did not waste time to begin his questions, "did you know of your father's treacherous plans against the crown?"

just by the first question, she already knew she wanted to shoot him. he was enjoying this, evidently on his tone.

"i did not."

he scoffed sarcastically at that, turning to the other members present as if gaining their attention, "i find it hard to believe, considering how close you both were, especially after the death of your mother and brother—god rest their souls."

it was a foul. mentioning them both amidst all of this was a great foul. she narrowed her eyes at him, firmly and armed as her voice sounded with confidence, increasing in volume.

"i did not know because there were no treacherous plans in the first place."

the members of the parliament leaned back slowly with their chins raised in an insulted manner. the two generals present turned to them with a curious look. ah, these generals are not involved in this.

lord scott noticed their interest piqued and hurried to push the matter to the young lady, "major general silva was reported of having questionable communications within the military force. we were monitoring him for months."

he continued to reveal the story he has crafted so well against them, "in the most recent event, he was caught exchanging fire with the british military, resisting in the quarters that must have served as their unofficial office for such activities."

she sat up straight with a piercing look at him, offense clear intended on her tone, "and who can attest to this?"

"girl, you question the credibility of the sources of the highest governments of the crown?!" he bellowed, sitting at the edge of his seat as the other members gestured for him to calm down.

"yes, in fact, i do."

"loraine, address the assertions."

the queen spoke for the first time. ah, she was not involved either. raine could tell she was trying to help, trying to get her out of this.

"your majesty," the girl began, turning to the queen with respect in contrast to the lord high chancellor, "my father was not a traitor and neither am i or raphael."

"where is the quarters where armand was unfortunately killed?" she asked outright.

the young silva could see right through the queen's plans. her majesty has conceded the matters of the girl's father. there was no saving his legacy—he was not saved already. it was a lost cause.

charlotte focused on his offspring, saving her from this is the only thing she could do for the family. and fortunately, the girl looked like she did not know anything.

raine had no words to answer at all. all the planning they did, all the stories she prepared—they went to the drain in just one question.

the queen waved her hand, the footman understanding her language. he opened the door and there enters raphael. he sat on the other chair beside the girl as charlotte continued.

"colonel montague has admitted to all suspicions." at the mention, raine turned to the man instantly, looking at him in surprise. the queen continued, "your lack of knowledge in the basic information of their activities suggests that you were indeed oblivious to the acts of treachery to the crown."

the girl glared at the queen, completely opposing her idea of helping. she declared clearly, word per word in firmness, "there was no betrayal from our end."

she clutched the couch, anger rising at their refusal to listen and acknowledge her side. other than being known for her unceasing confessions to the second bridgerton son, raine is also infamous for her hatred and passive-agressiveness.

"the colonel has copies of multiple reports that were altered to provide misinformation and cause mayhem in the military communication." her voice maintained the strength of her argument, "they were investigating it for months, even during my debut. we can call people as witness—"

raine held her tongue in time. she does not wish to put people on the government's eyes anymore. she swiftly dismissed the previous idea, continuing her previous point.

"the night they were ambushed on the way to the ball... tell them, raphael."

she turned to the other man who stayed silent the whole time, beckoning him to talk about what he witnessed in all actuality. however, the latter refused to utter a single word. she furiously turned back to the high officials.

"he saw the british insignia—the very people my father promised to protect the crown with." the young one spat the words with absolute hate, pointing her finger to the high chancellor, "and in fact, when they attacked my father in the quarters, you were there lord scott, were you not?!"

"you dare declare such accusation when you do not even know its location!" lord scott raised his voice, growling in her disrespect, "we are not here to address the matters of your father. he was a traitor. you are here to be questioned about your involvement in the said treason!"

raphael moved, raising his head to the officials with a determined voice, "i have conceded to everything. i have divulged all you wanted to know. the girl is entirely unaware of our activities!"

"oh, stop making her look like a child!" the high chancellor sneered at him, looking at loraine with sarcasm, "the lady has been raised by a general. everyone knows of your physical skills and marksmanship, taught by your very own father since you were young."

he stood up with authority, slamming his words with distaste. he stepped forwards as he pointed down a finger to stress his point. the young silva's eyes darkened at that, her mind going blank as he continue.

"there is no need to stray far from the truth."

he was too loud for her, his words biting her. she recognised this tension, this atmosphere. this is the battle. this is the war.

"you grew up mostly with him, taught everything by him, discussed plans with him, strategised with him," he paused, as if gathering his breath before he spat with malice.

"and committed high treason with him!"

raine stood up at once, unclasping her gun from her thigh in the process as she shot the man on his chest twice, his blood getting on her dress and features. the queen jumped and recoiled at the sound, brimsley nearing her instantly. the rest of the members jumped away and the generals reached for their guns.

loraine silva has shot the lord high chancellor.

one of the generals opted to reach for the actively dying lord scott, his hands on his chest as his mouth froze and jaw locked in neural shock.

the girl turned to the general and pointed her gun at him, "help him and see what follows."

he slowly backed with the queen gesturing for him to stay down as well. her majesty understood the young lady. she was not a threat to anyone else at the room as long as they were not a threat to her.

she walked to near the chancellor that leaned back helplessly with blood on the foamed chair, "you were right about everything but one."

she did not dropped her gun, still aiming it to his head now with clear dark intent. her voice was neither loud nor small, neither hard nor soft. it was the kind that would cause you to squirm.

"we did not betray the crown. we did not betray its people."

her voice did not declare war. it proclaimed the ending.

"and if we did," she leaned down to him as if whispering, "none of you will ever know."

raine stood straight up, sneering at the chancellor below her, "we would not have been as stupid as you."

she pulled the trigger thrice more—with no mercy or pity, with no regards of the people around her. seeing him finally stop breathing, she dropped her arm down, still gripping the gun hard.

"it would have done you good to know that i have his patience as well."

by the remnants of her rage, the future became clear—it's going to fall apart.

"your majesty," raine turned to the queen. the two generals behind her went for their guns seeing the girl's back on them. charlotte raised her hand immediately, halting the actions of both men as the silva continued, "the reports and all related documents are in the care of viscount bridgerton."

she dipped her head down in a bow for a few respectful seconds before standing back upright, feet together, leaning in a martial manner.

"i apologise for the mess, aunt lottie."

raine walked away, raphael following closely. he wanted to say something so badly, but was fearful of disturbing the already unstable state of the girl.

they exited the palace with no other encounters, likely because of her majesty's intercession. reaching outside the fence, the people tripling in number than earlier. they all yelled unintelligibly at the sight of them. her father's soldiers turned about face at their arrival. it was obvious that they heard the gunshots—her father's silver flintlock pepperbox has a hell of a sound.

gilbert returned raphael's gun, the latter cocking it immediately up in the air before firing. the crowd silenced in chorus as the girl inhaled deeply.

"each and every one of you has seen my father. major general silva had always been for the people."

while her father carried the rank of a major general, he was not disconnected with the people. yes, he was still distant for security purposes, but for a man his rank, he willingly shook hands with the people that deserved it.

and, armand often told her that he gets to shake more hands of the commoners and the general public than the officials.

"he was not a traitor. they have blamed their own treachery to my father, killed my father, and killed his loyal men—men that were all defending the crown and its people. this is what has become of our society. i do not care if you are busy with the social season and of other pleasures. this should be your duty as a person behind the crown."

she walked at the center, nearing them all so that they would hear her words better—words that they shall engrave in their hearts and minds, etched in their very soul.

"i stand before you all, not only as his daughter, but as someone who will never sit whilst injustice is apparent."

the viscountess silva's voice deepened with conviction. her eyes were flaring with truth and patriotism. she caught everyone's gaze and held it until it hurt.

"one who will not cover her ears against the screams of the dead."

"one who will not close her eyes in the midst of people abusing their power."

"one who will never sleep soundly whilst there are bodies of the wronged under each of our beds. "

all of her will went to her voice as she declared her final words to the public.

"this is the age of awakening. do not go gentle into that good night!"

raine continued to speak in the words coded by her father, the late major general, the superior of all. the forty-six soldiers answering with equal strength.

"min koimitheís ísycha ekeíni tin kalí nýchta!"

"orgí, orgí enántia sto svísimo tou fotós!"

they placed their right fists on top of their heart as the young lady and raphael found the royal guards and other military personnel. there was no escaping their situation now. what they did ensured only one path, and that was their head to the execution block.

the queen has ordered to not execute them on the spot. she reasoned that it would mean making them martyrs on the eyes of the people and they want to avoid that—although in truth, she pushed for them to have a private execution because that is what the two wanted.

viscountess loraine silva and colonel raphael montague turned about face to the rest of the soldiers. the latter saluted in uniform to the colonel, him returning it. they were saluting their ranks for the last time. she saluted the men this time, and by her surprise, the soldiers then turned to the young lady and saluted to her.

they were not supposed to salute back to her. she has no official rank.

raphael nudged her, prompting the girl to dismiss the salute as did the soldiers. a warm smile settled on her lips before both of them turned to the guards.

this is it. there is no going back.

and just as raine entered the vehicle to transport them to the cells, she completely missed the familiar head standing out from the crowd like a sore thumb despite her telling him not to attend.

once again, he could do nothing but hold his head down and shut his eyes at the end of the day. his palms formed a fist, biting his lips intensely as tears graced the floor under him.

every storm runs out of rain.

taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka

[etherealphosphor]

Wilting Rose Petals

⟡ Contains: Dottore x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Angst, Dottore has Hanahaki Disease, Mentions of coughing up blood, Mentions of painkillers, Good ending

BIG TW: Dottore is su!c!dal, please refrain from reading this if the content triggers you.

Being the Second of the Fatui Harbingers, Dottore had naturally been a cold and reserved man for most of his working life. Even before joining the Harbingers, he was more or less the same, only interested in his research. To him, conversation was a bore, and small talk was practically torture. Getting his business done while interacting with the least amount of people possible was an ideal day at work for him. In the past, the only people he really talked to were his segments.

However, oddly enough, his entire demeanor shifted when you—his part-time assistant—was around. He would go out of his way to talk to you, completely ignoring his responsibilities for however long he could manage to keep you. Dottore’s affection for you was painfully obvious to everyone who worked in the headquarters, as his mood greatly increased when you walked through the door.

His attitude altered so much when he was in your presence, to the point that if one needed to ask Dottore for a favor, they would wait until after you swung by his office. That was quite a wide-spread tactic in the Fatui Headquarters, and for good reason. Dottore would genuinely consider doing a favor for someone due to the cheery mood you put him in, as long as it was easy enough. However, if they interrupted his time with you, they'd be met with only unreasonableness and an incredibly short fuse.

To Dottore, you were the one thing he treasured in life. In recent years, his research lost its appeal and became awfully boring to him. Day after day, year after year, it was all the same. And for what? Why did any of it matter? What was he even living for anymore? Thoughts like those were normal for him. However, you kept him sane. You were like a helping hand in his time of need. You were the one thing that kept him alive each day.

Dottore’s heart and body yearned for you in ways he couldn’t describe. You were the singular light in his dark and lonely life. Even so, he didn’t want to tell you how he felt, for fear of losing you. Archons, what would he do if you never wanted to talk to him again? If he lost his beacon of hope, he wouldn’t know how to live on. So, instead of pursuing you, Dottore decided it was best to leave you as a fantasy that helped him keep his head above water.

As Dottore was daydreaming of you to distract himself from his mind, one of his segments—Theta—walked into his office.

"Hey Boss, is [Name] going to be here today? I know how much you enjoy their company. You get so gloomy when they aren’t around." Theta said in a playful tone as he leaned on the desk, smirking at Dottore.

Dottore felt a pang of sadness at being reminded of your absence. "[Name] is busy today and likely won’t be present."

"Oh, that’s a shame. You’re all smiles when [Name] walks through the door." Theta laughed.

"I am simply happy to be handing off some tasks to someone else. That’s all." Dottore lied, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Aw, come on. Don’t lie to me! I know you like them." Theta teased.

"I do not." Dottore replied, wearing that same grin that told Theta everything he needed to know.

"So, what is it about them, huh? What is it that’s got the Second Harbinger himself all lovesick?"

Dottore sighed. "..everything."

Theta’s eyes lit up. "Woah, you actually have human emotion? I was starting to doubt it. Man, I gotta tell the others!"

Before Dottore could call him back, Theta had run off to gossip with the other segments. He had always been the same. After Theta left, that happy expression on Dottore’s face faded quickly. He was good at covering up how he felt around other people, putting on a show of confidence for everyone around him. However, his personality completely shifted when he was left alone with only his thoughts to accompany him.

Putting his head in his hands, Dottore tried to calm his mind. Archons, he missed you. It had only been a day since he last saw you, and yet it was still agony to him. He was addicted to every aspect of you; you were his person. His only source of true joy.

How was he supposed to focus on his work if any hope of you coming to visit him was extinguished? If only—against all odds—you'd just walk into his office and give him the energy he needed to keep going.

And, as if his prayers were answered by Celestia itself, you appeared at the door, which was left ajar when Theta had run off.

"Good morning, Dottore!" You greeted him. "I’m sorry for not coming in sooner; as you know, I was busy."

Dottore’s heart fluttered in response. Oh, how happy he was to see you. "No, don’t apologize to me. You’re perfectly fine; everyone is busy on occasion. I assumed you were going to spend the whole day with Pulcinella."

"Well, I expected to originally, but I managed to complete all the tasks assigned to me in quick time. After all, I despise doing work for Pulcinella; I just wanted it to be over." You said.

"Oh? Really? What’s the problem with working for him?" Dottore asked, curious.

"He’s just so set in his ways. If I don’t do what he wants me to do in the exact way he does it, he’ll make me redo the entire thing. Even if it’ll all come out to the same solution! I very much prefer being your assistant, Dottore."

Dottore blushed at the compliment, but since his face was hidden behind his mask, you never noticed. "You do? What’s so much better about the tasks I assign?"

"Well, it’s more about the fact that I actually like you. You don’t criticize my every action, and you’re nice to me." You grinned at him.

"I like you too, [Name]." Dottore replied, before quickly clarifying, "You’re a lovely assistant. Maybe you should ask to work for me full-time."

"Unfortunately, Pulcinella would lose it. He already complains about me spending too much time running errands for you, as opposed to helping out the other harbingers."

"Why should you care what he thinks? If he asks for your assistance and then complains about the way you complete said task, then you are perhaps not the kind of person he is looking for. He should let that go and find someone else instead of berating you."

You considered that for a moment. "You’re right, Dottore. Maybe I should–"

Suddenly, you were cut off by a yell from outside. "[NAME], YOU FORGOT TO FILE THESE PAPERS IN OPPOSITE-ALPHABETICAL ORDER! I ASKED YOU TO FILE THEM FROM Z TO A, NOT A TO Z!"

"Better get back to work, then. We can talk about this later." You sighed before sprinting out of the room. "Coming! I apologize for my error, Pulcinella!"

The moment you left, Dottore was overcome with a strong urge to slam his head into his desk. He felt like a fool; it was so clear that he was begging for you to spend every day with him. He just hoped you hadn’t picked up on his subtle flirting throughout the conversation. After all, he wasn’t exactly good at keeping a straight face when you complimented him—something that could definitely give away how he felt.

'I like you too, [Name].' What was I even thinking when I said that!? Of course, they don’t feel the same things I feel about them. They just enjoy working for me; that’s all they meant by that. But, Archons, it felt good to hear them say that they liked me.

As he inwardly cursed himself, his thoughts began to wander to even more self-deprecating ones. How could someone like you ever harbor the same care that he did for you? What did he even do to deserve your attention? Someday, would you consider him more than just someone you worked for? Was he even worth it? Would you hate him if he confessed?

Now Dottore was stuck between two equally unpleasant options. Either continue his dull and monotonous work or let his brain fill the silence by telling him how unworthy he was. Neither choice was something he particularly wanted, but he knew that his research must be completed for the day.

And so, day after day, he spent most of his time in his office, doing research just to fit the requirements of what was expected of him. Archons, he was so tired of it all. Nothing mattered to him anymore—except for you, maybe.

Each time you walked into his office, his day got significantly better. Unbeknownst to you, Dottore set aside all his work just to talk to you. You had simply assumed he was just so on top of everything that he could spare the time. Dottore had occasionally considered asking you out to a nearby cafe—just as work friends—but he was too worried that you’d take the invite the wrong way.

And so, he held his tongue. Of course, his heart begged for him to just make a move on you, but his brain prevented him from doing so. He knew that if his last reason to live was to be scared away, he’d surely fail to go on. Months went by like this; Dottore desperately longing for your affection.

One day, as Dottore sat at his desk, he suddenly felt the urge to clear his throat—almost like something was blocking his airway. Coughing a couple times, Dottore felt the strange object become dislodged and fall gently into the hand he was using to cover his mouth. Looking down, Dottore spotted a small petal; the shade was barely even pink; one could argue that it was closer to white than anything else.

Met with this odd occurrence, Dottore couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with him. After all, one doesn’t just start coughing up flowers for no reason. But after taking a minute to think, Dottore couldn’t recall the last time he was around a flower. After all, flowers in Snezhnaya die unless kept inside, and Dottore had none in his office.

Despite his suspicions, Dottore decided to chalk it up to a peculiar circumstance with no further investigation required. However, when he coughed up another petal, he knew that this situation was much more serious. Dottore was very knowledgeable about all of Teyvat’s various illnesses, so it didn’t take much more pondering for him to connect the dots.

Coughing up petals.. no… no. It can’t be. I can’t possibly have contracted Hanahaki Disease. There’s absolutely no way.

Dottore immediately began pulling books on various types of illnesses off of the shelves in his office, flipping through them, hoping to find something—anything—on the specific ailment.

After about a minute, he found exactly the page he was looking for in one of the books. Quickly, he read through the section on possible cures. There was no chance he was going to tell you of the affection he secretly held for you. And even less likely, have you reciprocate his feelings? Impossible. Simply impossible.

Confessing… confessing… That won’t do—not at all. Even if I did decide to—which I heavily doubt—the likelihood of [Name] sharing my affection.. I don’t want to think about it. It’s impossible. Dottore thought, skimming through the text.

As Dottore continued to read, he came to a realization. His options were either to somehow woo you into loving him or to hold his tongue and die in the process.

When he realized these were his two options, Dottore wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. Any normal person wouldn’t wait for the disease to end them and would instead confess to their person, no? However, Dottore wasn’t the average man. He was tired of work—or, to be more precise, he was tired of living. When he really thought about it, what he wanted most was for it all to end. To eternally sleep in silence and in peace. No more responsibilities, and no more pain. This disease was his way out.

And so, he decided to accept his fate. He would leave the world behind due to his disease, and he wouldn’t look back. Not for anyone; not even you.

More time passed, and each day, Dottore coughed up flower petals more frequently. He observed that the color of the petals was gradually getting darker each time they appeared. However, he wasn’t that concerned. After all, he would finally have a chance to escape the constant cycle of his meaningless life. He was tired of holding on by a thread and a hopeless fantasy; all he really wanted now was to rest.

Even if Dottore wasn’t worried about himself, you certainly were. Even with Pulcinella constantly requesting your help, you still interacted with Dottore on occasion. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly much, but it was still enough to get a good sense of where Dottore was in terms of health. You had noticed his posture had gotten worse, and so had his general demeanor. Before, he used to straighten up when you walked into his office and would greet you with a smile. However, nowadays, he always seemed exhausted and burnt out.

What especially worried you was the strange coughing you occasionally heard from him, which sounded as if he was quite ill. You wished to get to the bottom of what was going on with him, but you didn’t want to inquire about things that weren’t your business.

You knew that if Dottore was suffering from an ailment, he would simply take the measures needed to cure himself. So why exactly did he still seem so sick? Was the treatment not working? Or was it just not taking effect yet? The only other possibility you could think of was that his sickness could not be easily treated. You weren’t sure what it could be, so you tried to calm your mind by assuring yourself that you were likely overthinking. Dottore would get over it in a couple weeks, right?

However, little did you know, that cough of his could very well be the end of him.

One day, as Dottore was strolling through the headquarters’ hallways, he stopped by a window to look out at the falling snow. He never really noticed the beauty of it until now—not until there was a chance he’d never get to see it again. Due to his focus being elsewhere, he didn’t notice Delta—another one of his segments—behind him until he spoke up.

"Something is wrong with you, Boss." Delta said evenly; it wasn’t a question.

Not bothering to turn around, Dottore replied calmly, "Nothing is wrong with me. Why would you think that, Delta?"

"Do you really think you can assure me just by denying my suspicions? First of all, you’ve been coughing for months; something is clearly up with your health, both physical and mental. Secondly, I saw the pages you marked in that book you left on your desk. Hanahaki, was it? Am I correct in thinking that this matter has something to do with [Name]? You’re quite fond of them, after all."

"You shouldn’t be getting involved in other people’s problems, Delta. You should know better than that." Dottore spoke in a cold tone.

"No, you should know better! You’ve always been like this—awfully stubborn. You’re mistreating yourself, Boss! I can’t just stand by and watch it happen. I’m getting involved in your problems because you won’t help yourself!" Delta raised his voice.

"When have you ever had control over my actions? You’re merely my segment; I am the one with power over you, not the other way around. I’d advise you to get your nose out of my business. It is my choice and mine alone whether or not I get help." Dottore walked away from Delta without another word.

Along with Dottore’s fading footsteps, Delta could hear him coughing as he left. He was so frustrated; why couldn’t Dottore just accept his aid? Why did he have to be so stubborn as to refuse to confess to you, even if it meant the death of him? Dottore of all people should have known that there was no alternative cure for Hanahaki Disease. So what in the world were his motives?

Delta was thoroughly confused by the man’s behavior. However, Dottore had his eyes on one goal and one goal alone: ending his miserable life. Absolutely nothing could get in his way. Archons, how he wished for an opportunity like this. All he had to do was wait until his body finally gave out, and then all would be still.

As more weeks passed, Dottore’s Hanahaki Disease steadily got worse. His throat had begun to feel sore, and it was quite painful to speak. However, through the pain, his hope was restored. His disease had gotten to the later stages; his life was coming to an end at last.

One evening, as Dottore was working on his soulless research, Delta came in to check on his condition.

"Boss? Is everything going okay?"

Dottore beckoned for him to come closer, not saying a word. The only noise that could be heard was his slight coughing as some rouge-colored petals fell from his mouth. Once Delta was close enough, Dottore wrote the names of some painkillers on a slip of paper and handed it to him.

Taking the paper, Delta stared down at the man before him. "What do you want me to do with this? Do you need me to get you these pills from your lab?"

Dottore simply nodded.

"Boss, painkillers won’t make your Hanahaki Disease go away. You can’t just keep ignoring it! You are hurting for a reason; your body needs help. The other segments and I are all worried for you; even [Name] is uneasy. You know, they miss you a lot, Dottore. We all do."

At the mention of your name, Dottore covered his ears, refusing to listen any further. He was determined to calm the beating in his heart that was triggered by Delta mentioning your concern for him. He couldn’t let his feelings for you interfere with his plans.

Eventually, Delta gave up trying to reason with him and went off to retrieve the medicine. After all, he wasn’t going to make Dottore suffer more than the man always was. However, there and then, Delta decided that he needed to tell you what was going on. He had wanted to inform you for a while, but felt guilty about breaking Dottore’s trust. But now, in his heart, he knew it was more important to save him.

Once Delta had acquired the medicine, he came back to find Dottore coughing up more petals than normal. He set down a couple pill bottles on Dottore’s desk, as well as a glass of water for him to swallow them with.

Archons, he just gets worse and worse every day. Delta thought, before bidding him farewell and closing the door to his office.

Just before Dottore was about to take his medication, he had another bout of coughing. The glass of water fell to the floor and shattered as Dottore doubled over in pain. This time, it felt absolutely excruciating, and the magenta-colored petals that fell to his desk were stained with his blood.

Dottore felt that crimson liquid spill from his mouth and drip onto the desk. He knew at this point that he was really, truly dying. However, even so, he felt oddly at peace. His years of labor would finally come to an end. His life would come to an end.

He had to pinch himself just to get the pills down, as the pain of swallowing was making his eyes sting. His own blood was enough for him to take the medication with, as the glass of water was no longer an option. All he had to do was endure half an hour of this torture before his throat would go numb.

Just as Dottore was heading to his private chambers to relax a bit as he waited for the pain to cease, he overheard Delta speaking to someone.

Delta was frantically trying to tell you something. "[Name], I have some extremely important information that you need to know about. It’s concerning Dottore and why he hasn’t been his usual self. He has—"

Just as Delta was about to reveal his secret, Dottore grabbed his neck, pulling him away from you.

Through the pain, Dottore managed to say, "That information isn’t for you to share as you please, Delta."

Feeling a hand on his neck, Delta went silent. Dottore wasn’t choking him, but this action was enough to stop him from telling you about the man’s disease.

Dottore dragged Delta away, leaving you alone to ponder what in the world was so important that Dottore had to threaten Delta just so he wouldn’t say it? Meanwhile, Dottore spoke quietly to Delta in an empty hallway.

"Delta. I don’t want to have to do this, as you’re the segment I trust the most. Zeta is too mysterious, Epsilon is too naive, Theta doesn’t take anything seriously, and Psi is never here. That is why I am reluctant to make a decision about your future; you are making things hard for me." Dottore spoke, enduring the pain speaking caused to his throat that had yet to fade.

"What are you talking about, Boss? What decision?" Delta nervously asked him.

"If this continues, I may have to send you away to a different nation, somewhere far away, where you cannot tamper with my plans."

"Oh really? You want to send me away? And what plans? What plans have you ever had!? Do you really intend to pass away just because you don’t want to tell [Name] that you love them!?" Delta yelled at Dottore.

"This is exactly what I mean. You get too involved with other people’s worries." Dottore spoke coldly.

"I’m loyal to you! That’s what this is, Boss! Loyalty! I want to save your life above all else, don’t you see!?"

Dottore sighed. "Yes, I see that, Delta. However, my orders are for you to stand back."

Now, Delta was extremely frustrated with him. "I care about you! I can’t just watch you perish! Boss, it’s almost as if you want to die!"

"MAYBE I DO!" Dottore snapped. "EVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT, DELTA!? HAS ANYONE EVER CONSIDERED THAT!?"

Time seemed to stop.

"I—Boss? What?"

Regretting his words, Dottore quickly walked away from him, heading to his private chambers. "Forget it, Delta. It doesn’t matter."

"No—wait—this is serious. Boss? Boss, are you—" Delta tried to go after Dottore, but the man had already locked himself in his room.

"Please, leave me alone." Dottore said from behind the locked door.

Dottore fell onto his bed, exhausted. Archons, it hurt for him to speak. And yelling on top of that? He was surprised that it only hurt a medium amount, and didn't feel like his throat was being ripped open. He could feel blood dripping onto his bedsheets; he’d have to clean it up later. Now all he could do was ignore Delta’s desperate pleas for him to come out as he waited for the painkillers to kick in.

Meanwhile, you were absolutely shocked. Curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you had eavesdropped on their argument. All this new information had hit you like a truck. You had no clue that Dottore felt the way he did.

Dottore is dying from.. Hanahaki Disease? What is that? He wants to die? He.. loves me..? Archons, I’m so confused.. You thought, before running off to the library stationed in the Fatui Headquarters.

You were certain to find something on diseases in there, as it contained shelf after shelf of informational books on every topic under the sun.

As you rushed through the doors, the librarian slowly looked up at you. "Need something, honey? You look like you’re in a hurry."

"Yes, I do need help." You said, out of breath. "D-do you have anything on Hanahaki Disease?"

"Aw, someone’s lovesick, huh? What a shame; all you can do is hope they like you back." The woman said lazily, typing something up on her computer. "Well, we do have a couple books containing some information on that illness. Follow me, honey."

"I–the book is for.. a friend." You clarified.

"Mhm, that’s what they all say. Just make sure you return the book before you die; it’s such a hassle to go looking for them." The librarian replied as she led you over to a shelf.

"I’m not dying, ma’am."

"Sure you’re not, honey. Denial is all you have left, I suppose."

The woman began to pull a couple heavy books off the shelf, handing them to you. You nearly fell over due to the weight in your arms.

"Ma’am, I think I’ll be okay with these for now. Thank you." You said, nearly about to tip over.

"Good for you; have fun. Or don’t. I don’t really care. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything." The librarian walked away, leaving you to do your research.

You skimmed through the first one of the thick books, looking for a section on Hanahaki Disease. Once you found it, you thoroughly read through the entire text.

Unrequited love.. You could feel your heart beating quicker. Of course, you held very tender emotions towards Dottore, but you were too afraid to say anything before. Now was not the time to be getting butterflies over him—he was in serious danger.

You now knew you were the key to saving him. However, you were lost on what to do. Dottore had himself locked in his room and wouldn’t even listen to his most trustworthy segment, Delta. If you pushed him, Dottore would only hide away further. And then you’d truly never get the chance to save him.

You’d need to lure him out somehow, wouldn’t you? But how would you accomplish that? You were still pondering that as you walked out of the library, awkwardly carrying one of the giant books. As you headed towards your room to give yourself time to ponder, you overheard Delta pleading with Dottore.

"Boss, we can talk about this, okay? It doesn’t have to be this way. If you just let me help, things can get better. Please don’t give up like this."

Still hiding behind that locked door, Dottore responded, "I don’t need your help, Delta. Just leave. I want to sleep."

"No, Boss. I’m not leaving. You need help; you just don’t know how to accept it. I’m staying out here until you’re ready."

Your heart lurched painfully at that. What in the world would you do? You weren’t sure exactly how far along the disease had gotten, but he was still talking in clear sentences, which was a good sign that he wasn’t on his death bed yet. Still, when you thought back, his cough had started quite a long time ago, so he was likely in the latest stages. At best, he had maybe a week left. You didn’t want to assume he’d hold on for much longer, so you knew that you needed to act fast. You’d try to save him in the morning if he came out of his room.

Meanwhile, Dottore was just trying to fall asleep. Archons, his body was so exhausted. Delta hadn’t stopped begging him to come out and likely wouldn’t for a while. Dottore’s eyelids began to feel heavy, and he could sense himself drifting off. He wasn’t even quite sure if he’d see the next day; he really hoped he wouldn’t. Then his pathetic and miserable life would finally come to an end.

However, to Dottore’s great disappointment, he did wake up the next day. His body felt weak and oddly warm, and he longed to go outside in the snow to cool off. When he opened his door, he found that Delta had spent the night curled up outside of it.

Dottore carefully stepped over his sleeping body and began heading towards a door to the outside. That particular exit to the Fatui Headquarters wasn’t well known and therefore didn’t warrant being guarded. It was almost too good to be true, as the last thing Dottore wanted was for his plans to be discovered by anyone else. He didn’t want anyone’s help.

Once Dottore reached the exit, he stumbled outside, slowly making his way out into the snow. He wasn’t wearing the proper layers, just a collared shirt and pants, but he still felt too warm. The falling snowflakes melted on his skin, cooling him down just a bit. It still wasn’t enough for him.

When he was about ten yards into the snow, he began to have another coughing fit. He was in pure agony this time, as he had forgotten to take his pain medication that morning. He fell to his knees as blood poured from his mouth, leaving a stark contrast in the snow. Along with his blood, tears flowed down his face. Archons, the pain was unbearable. Pure red petals were scattered all around him, a sign that his disease had gotten to its worst stage.

Dottore didn’t even have the energy to stay balanced, and he fell to his side. Blood still dripped from his mouth as he lay in the snow and let the cold embrace his feverish body. All he could think of was that he could finally rest—forever this time. Just before his eyes began to shut, he caught sight of a figure running towards him, yelling his name.

Oh. It’s [Name]. At least they’ll be the last thing I see before I die.

When you reached him, you dropped to your knees beside him and removed the mask from his face.

"Oh no.. no.. please be okay.. please be alive.." You said frantically.

Dottore looked up at you as you did so, those crimson eyes of his matching the blood that was still dripping from his mouth. Those eyes that were wet with tears that had yet to fall. Likewise, you could feel your own tears dripping down your face.

"Dottore.. please don’t leave me. I love you; I always have. Just hang on for me, okay?" You spoke softly to him, gently stroking his cheek as you wiped away his tears.

Because of your heartfelt words, Dottore’s wretched curse was broken. However, at that point, Dottore was too weak to care that his attempt had failed. All that he cared about was the fact that you shared his feelings. His aching heart had seemingly been revived. You held Dottore closer, embracing him as you cried into his shoulder.

"Please, Dottore. Don’t try anything like this ever again. I’m going to get you the help you need; please just keep holding on."

Dottore had felt as though his existence was worthless, but now he was comforted knowing that it meant something to you. You loved him. That alone gave it purpose. Archons, it felt like a dream. His one reason to keep going had saved his life yet again.

Slowly, Dottore began to speak, "[Name].. I—I love you too.."

You smiled at him, tears still streaming down your face. Gently, you pressed your lips to his, your kiss as soft as a feather. It was at that moment that Dottore truly realized that he would no longer have to struggle alone. You’d be there for him every step of the way to recovery.

His life was finally worth something again.

[getvalentined]

I am so sick of people asserting that Cloud's father is some super special important person like it's some explanation for the fact that he was able to save the world. Superior bloodline stuff never sits well with me in the first place, but in this case it's just so antithetical to the actual thesis of FF7 and does such a huge disservice to multiple characters that it makes me white hot angry.

The most popular contender is President Shinra, because Cloud being a Shinra bastard would (somehow) explain why he's allowed into the company at such a young age (even though enlistment age appears to be 14 and Cloud left Nibelheim to enlist at 14) and how he wound up on so many important missions—because it can't possibly be that he's actually competent, he's so pretty, how could he possibly be competent? It's not as if we see him being staggeringly competent from jump in every title where he's featured, including those that start prior to him being forcibly mako enhanced by Hojo. Clearly this is nepotism.

After all, we know that President Shinra is always so supportive of his bastards! That's why Lazard hid his identity and worked his way up the ranks to become director of SOLDIER at the youngest possible age and then set about trying to orchestrate a hostile takeover of the company by allowing all three of his best operatives to defect in the middle of a war, a process that was only thrown off because one of them passed off every single mission where he would have had an opportunity to go AWOL.

This was clearly the result of nepotism. There's just so much nepotism going on there. Obviously.

The newest contender is Glenn Lodbrok, the lead character from the First SOLDIER section of Ever Crisis, because he's blond-haired and blue-eyed and presumably one of the first people in Project 0 to survive some level of the mako enhancement process. I guess this is supposed to mean that him being Cloud's father would be a perfect explanation for Cloud actually being capable of literally anything, since the only way for him to become the hero that was chosen by the planet to keep it alive would be if it's part of some bloodline destiny.

There are a whole host of issues with Glenn as an option here, not the least of which is the canonical lore about Cloud's father, namely that he was some nobody traveler who kinda passed through and got Claudia pregnant and then left; he may have died up in the mountains, but apparently all that was ever found was his pack, so there's no way to be sure. Further, Claudia was very young at this point—according to her original concept art declaring her to be 33 at the time of her death, she gave birth to Cloud at 16-17 years old.

Glenn is one of two possible age ranges: if he was active in the early stages of Project 0, being a character in the First SOLDIER battle royale game, then he was around 21 in 1985, meaning a 21 year old knocked up Claudia Strife when she was 15 and then walked out on her. If he's 21 during the events of Ever Crisis, which seems likely based on his character design, that would make him 14 at the oldest when Claudia got pregnant.

Okay, I know this kind of thing happens IRL, but I feel pretty confident in the statement that there is absolutely no way that that's the direction SE is taking this timeline and characterization. I'm not even sorry. That's not happening. Either he's giving "predator," or he's Deadbeat Dad: High School Freshman Edition.

But that's honestly not even the worst of it, the math not matching up is entirely irrelevant when the implications of this assertion are applied to the actual thesis of this series as a whole, to the characters we already know, to the actual lore. Claiming that Cloud is only special because of the sperm donation of a man who abandoned him literally removes any concept of his competence as a character, declaring that he's just the newest iteration in a line of "worthy" men. He can't be worth anything unless his father is worth something. He can't be good at anything unless his father is good at something.

Beyond that, it casts Claudia aside entirely, asserting that the fact that she raised Cloud doesn't matter—she may have brought him up entirely on her own, but that doesn't actually matter. She didn't instill values and morals and guidelines into him that would allow him to grow up into a man who could save the world, she was just an incubator, a nursemaid, a nanny, a cook. She was just a servant who kept him alive long enough for his father's bloodline to awaken within him and make him into the hero he was always meant to be.

Insisting that Cloud's value as a character hinges in any way on his father, a person who had no place in his life whatsoever and whom he doesn't even remember, takes away his agency and declares Claudia to be irrelevant. It says that a sperm donation matters more than an upbringing. It says that the place he started is the only thing that defines where Cloud will end up.

This is literally, 100 percent, the opposite of the thesis of this series. The entire concept of these games, of these storylines, is that the way you were made doesn't have to dictate what you can be, who you are, where you're going. Your genetics do not define you, and assumptions to the contrary are literally what make people into monsters. What matters is the people you love, the people who love you, and the person you are now as a result of those people.

And the fact of the matter is that regardless of timelines, regardless of characterizations, regardless of theories, Cloud Shinra and Cloud Lodbrok didn't save the world.

Cloud Strife did.

Claudia Strife's son did.

And I think people could stand to give both of them a hell of a lot more credit.

[sketches4mysw33theart]

Secret Fantasy

Title:  Secret Fantasy  Synopsis: Your brother, Willy Wonka, sends you on a mission to discover as much as you can about Mr Felix Fickelgruber and his shop. However, when you meet the man himself, you discover much more than you bargained for.   Word Count: 1.8k  Warnings: None 

Yes, I am still alive, but is the fandom? 🫠 

Finally made a part two!

“Okay, Y/N,” your brother’s words echoed in your psyche. “Once you’re in Fickelgruber’s shop, play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop, yes? He’ll notice you soon enough, then you can ask him about his chocolates, his upcoming plans, all of it. Anything you see, anything he says, try and remember. Chocolates, flavours, shapes, packaging, all of it! It’s risky, I know, but you can do it, I know you can. Okay?” 

But, bathed in the soft, green light of the infamous chocolate shop, surrounded by plush velvets and lush silks, it was easy to lose your grip on sanity. You stood, stunned, in the centre of this corner of paradise like a boat lost out at sea, bobbing listlessly against waves it has no strength to fight.  

Overwhelmed by endless coloured boxes and paper-wrapped concoctions, you weren’t sure where to look. So, your attention bounced over each shelf and colour and texture as quickly as pinballs spinning in the dazed universe of their machine. You were used to chocolate, naturally, and you had confidence that nothing could compare to the tiny miracles that your brother could produce. However, seeing a real shop, so many types of confectionaries deliberately put together and dressed up to entice passers-by to dip into their pockets – it was an entirely new realm for you.  

Of course, it did not take too long for you to get noticed. Dressed up in the new finery your brother had dipped into his quickly growing stash of chocolate-selling money to kindly purchase for you, which itched your wrists at the cuffs and made a satisfying swish noise whenever you turned, it was admittedly hard not to notice you. You looked as though you had strolled into new money and built a throne of sovereigns from the petty cash. 

“May I help you?” You were reading, with your mouth open in awe, the flavours in Fickelgruber's Fancies (one of his most expensive boxes of chocolates) when the refined voice sang over your shoulder, and you turned to it as though scolded.  

You were caught in the headlights of a face you had only heard mythological tales about, the face of one of your brother’s arch nemeses. The face of, you shamefully thought as soon you laid eyes on him, an extremely handsome man. Frozen under his liquefying stare, you floundered, your boat taking on water as you stuttered, trying to find your footing in this strange, golden world.  

Somehow, you thought focusing on the handsome man responsible for your drowning (and much more besides) would carry you safely back to steady ground. He was wiry, tall, and immaculately presented, from the perfectly waxed shape of his hair to the shined-clean sparkle of his shoe tips. His accent was as plummy as the colour of his matching tie and handkerchief, but he had a nice, if a little strained, smile on his face. Rather more than nice, you thought.  

As you stared at him, watching the corners of his lips rise in a coy, roguish smile, sense boomeranged back into your brain in the guise of your brother. Play like a wealthy customer, like you’re there to buy his entire shop. 

“Er, yes, actually, I think you can, Mr Fickelgruber.” Finally, your voice came back to you, and with it the confidence and bald-faced mania your brother had instilled in you long ago; the tools needed to get your job done. What you didn’t notice, however, was your instant use of his name and the gratified expression that illuminated his face as soon as you addressed him by it.  

“These fancies,” you pointed somewhat redundantly to the lush green box, hoping it would disguise the quiver in your voice as you recovered, “there are no cherry flavours. That simply won’t do.” 

To your surprise, he smiled again. “Oh, you’re absolutely right. It is a travesty, isn’t it? I was saying the same thing to my wretched assistant only yesterday. May I suggest you try these instead?”    

He reached easily over your head, pulling from a higher shelf a sleek black box emblazoned with an egotistical gold F and stylishly held together with a single black ribbon stretched across the right-hand side. You were rather too distracted to focus on what he reached for, however, as you were overwhelmed with a strong wave of wild ferns (freedom, open countryside stretching out ahead under the harsh shards of moonlight), a rich, earthy scent emanating from his suit and the body it covered the same way his shop exuded opulence and his wry smile radiated superiority.  

Then, he was holding the box almost to your nose, as though he suspected you of neglecting your glasses; this only confirmed that you were not as confident as your attitude would project. Slow responsiveness, trembling hands, quivering mouth. His impression of you must have been that of a helpless infant. 

“These,” he began speaking when you gently lifted the box from his hand to inspect the contents listed on the side, “are my pride and joy. Fickelgruber’s Fudges.” His chest puffed as he shared with you the name of the delights currently cupped in your hands, but finally, your attention was diverted from your new companion. He was still talking, filling up the electric space between you with fleeting words about the concoction and how, although it wasn’t strictly chocolate, it was ‘the best taste sensation you could achieve on God’s green Earth’, but you could barely hear him as you scanned the ingredients and thought of your brother’s face.  

Your brother, you knew, was a dab hand at all kinds of confectionary, but he was never satisfied with his fudge recipe. Although you were supportive, neither, secretly, were you. There was always something missing. Not enough sugar, too much, the flavours don’t gel well, unappetising to look at - always something. It took one glance at the near-empty shelf above you to know that this was not the case with the man in front of you.  

His flavours were certainly unique, although as you read them, they seemed so simple. No yeti sweat, for example. There was cherry, as expected, but also salted caramel, mint, raspberry, maple, and a mysteriously named Fickelgruber’s Fantasy, an unnamed flavour with a top-secret recipe.  

Of course, you asked immediately, “What’s the flavour?” but he just laughed loudly, throwing his head back so you could see the bobbing of his Adam’s apple along his taut neck. Despite the face of your brother still hovering at the forefront of your mind, at the sound of Mr Fickelgruber’s unbridled laugh, your lips twitched into a giggling smile. 

“Well, if I told you that,” he said once he had recovered, a grin spread across his handsome face and hands clasped behind his back as he leaned closer to you, “I’d have to kill you.”  

He brought his hands between you to grasp the box you were still holding, slipping off the ribbon with ease and lifting off the lid. “I believe I can spare a few of these to tantalise your tastebuds, however. Here,” he held up a perfect cube of mouth-watering fudge, covered with a delicate strip of chocolate and dotted with what looked like either marshmallow or biscuit. “Try my fantasies for yourself.”  

He quirked up an eyebrow as he held the fudge out to you between his forefinger and thumb, only an extension of his one-sided smirk. You looked up from the piece of confectionary to his face for a mere second before opening your mouth and allowing him to place it onto your awaiting tongue.  

It was like a slice of heaven, melting in your mouth as soft and supple as the rich cocoa butter your brother had traded a silk scarf for in India and allowed you to dip your finger in as he made his chocolate after days of denying you the privilege. Fickelgruber’s Fudge had that same kind of forbidden luxury in its flavour, rich and decadent. That addition of biscuit – it was definitely biscuit, you recognised as soon as it touched your taste buds – only emphasized the beauty of the bite, giving the chewy texture a gritty crunch.   

If Fickelgruber was smiling with pride before, he was beaming with it now, watching your eyes light up as the taste of his well-kept recipe coated your throat. “Good, no? And there’s your beloved cherry, of course.” 

As soon as you’d swallowed the secret Fantasy, he was holding up a square of fudge dotted with sweet cherries. Without question, you opened your mouth once more, accidentally catching the very tips of his fingers between your lips as your mouth closed eagerly around the sweet. You were too overwhelmed to apologise as he withdrew them without a care, too overwhelmed even to speak. The cherry was, dare you say it, even more delicious than his prided secret recipe, as sweet and real as cherry pie.  

You swallowed the sweet blissfully and looked down at the open box still in your hand as though it were a treasure chest. Your Pandora’s box. You weren’t sure if you wanted to eat them all at once or simply leave the box on a table, lid off and sweets displayed, for visitors to coo over as they pass, but never to touch. Funnily enough, as he spoke once more, it came to your attention that you were having a vaguely similar tug-of-war about the man who had been feeding them to you. Keep him to yourself, or hand his secrets over to your brother? Hmm... 

“You know,” there was what you could only describe as a smouldering look in his eyes as he stared at you with his undivided attention, “I have plenty more fantasies that you could try if you’re looking for a certain flavour.” He gestured around him with his hands, but your stare never left his. “My whole shop is at your feet.” After a brief pause, he added, “As am I.”  

Only for a moment did you hesitate, looking over your shoulder past the thick green curtains and gold rails, out into the plain beige and white of the Galleries Gourmet, the people gazing through the spotless windows in wonder as they hurried past, and even further out into the street, where your brother was using your distraction of his rival to share his chocolate with the world as he waited for you to emerge safely. 

Feeling like a traitor to your brother, a fraud, a betrayer of the very blood that was pounding in your veins, you turned your back to the outside world and followed the dark, swaying shadow of the handsome man who turned to look at you, eyes twinkling, eyebrow raised, smile fixed, only the once before leading you deeper into the crowds of the shop floor.  

Oh, you were in trouble.  

Check out part two!

[mister-sandwich]

Another episode of Chuckle Sandwich, another text post to create. SO. I watched episode 40, and they end up doing a Fuck, Marry, Kill: Ghost, Werewolf, Vampire. NOW, while this is hypothetical and could mean absolutely nothing I am choosing to share the answers, their reasoning (if applicable), and any other thoughts I personally have about it in case Tumblr wants to write some fun monster AUs (AHEM HALLOWEEN AHEM). Or, if Tumblr wants to use their answers as insight into how they'd be in relationships. I'm hoping to help feed that delusion with my own observations. Since this is FUCK, marry, kill there is some mild nsfw so be warned.

(also I'm still pretty new to this but- I'm trying to make these posts look prettier as I go. ALSO. this is 2 years old so maybe some opinions have changed idk!)

✧.* Schlatt ✧.*

∙ Marry Vampire, Kill Ghost, Fuck Werewolf ∙ Believe it or not this is exactly what I chose in my head before they read out their answers (This is because I LOVE vampires, am a monster fucker/like BIG MEN, and think fucking a ghost would simply be like fucking the air so take that as you will for how it applies to Schlatt) ∙ He chose to marry the vampire purely because he doesn't want to be seen with the vampire and the burning in sunlight helps that LMFAO ∙ Kills the ghost because of least remorse because it's already dead (admittedly I thought the same) ∙ Then he fucks the werewolf because he likes big hairy men. (he's actually so zesty in this episode I can't.) ∙ Honestly his answers are so non-serious I'm going to look like a fool for analyzing them but whatever I'm doing it anyway this is how I destress ∙ I think if I were to take any genuine thoughts away it would be that marrying the vampire speaks to his more introverted, night owl self that he describes throughout a few of these episodes (also I believe he's into emo/alt chicks OR MEN I GUESS SINCE THIS EPISODE HAS GOT ME THINKIN THAT.) ∙ I'm not gonna comment on the werewolf. He's a monster fucker OR furry. ∙ ACTUALLY WAIT I AM. I think this slightly validates my "he likes angry or over confident people" arguement cause werewolves are stereotyped to be aggressive AS SHIT. I genuinely think this man wants someone who will challenge him. ∙ The ghost thing kinda fuels my parasocial belief that he's actually pretty considerate, like viewing the other two as alive and not wanting to kill them is sweet (AHEM- TED.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ted ࿐ྂ

∙ SPEAK OF THE DEVIL. ∙ Marry Vampire, Fuck Ghost, Kill Werewolf ∙ Chooses to marry the vampire because he views it like Twilight and he wants to be carried around by his super speedy vampire gf ∙ Also says the sparkly skin is a bonus (again if Twilight vampire) ∙ Fucks the ghost because "worst-case scenario it's some ectoplasm, slime situation, could be some good lubrication" but then the actual worst-case scenario, he clarifies, is he's just jerking off ∙ And he kills the werewolf because he "has a lot of silver bullets lying around" ∙ Again. Dumb, stupid answers. Well, more serious than Schlatt's at least. ANYWAY HERE WE GO. ∙ Vampire marriage confirms my own delusions that this man is a WIFE GUY. If his partner is good at ANYTHING he is happy to just sit there like ":)" ∙ He's just being low-risk on the sex imo, I mean he says it himself. It's either slightly goopier normal sex or jackin it, so I just believe this man is kinda vanilla (sorry all the freaky Ted fans, I could be wrong, maybe it actually just means Ted is straight while Schlatt likes BIG HAIRY MEN.) ∙ Killing the werewolf I think just feeds into the little hero fantasies he's talked about having like how he'd survive and even thrive in a zombie apocalypse or save everyone in a car crash. A werewolf is the most "beastly" option so I think he just thinks he'd look badass killing it

︶꒦꒷ Charlie ꒷꒦︶

∙ "Well, it really depends on their personality." ∙ Anyway, after the other two told him to shut up and pick he ended up settling on: Marry Ghost, Fuck Vampire, Kill Werewolf. ∙ Charlie chooses to marry the ghost because "it seems fun, go on fun ghost dates :D" ∙ Really thinks it's cool that they can go through walls ∙ Anyway his answer is too genuine, loving, and whimsical for the other two crusty men at the table so he doesn't explain his reasoning for fucking the vampire and killing the werewolf ∙ I guess it's up to me to make assumptions: ∙ Well to start, I think marrying the ghost is very cute and on brand for Charlie, the personality thing at the beginning was probably just a joke because I mean it IS fuck, marry, kill after all... But I think there was some truth to it ∙ You may or may not be able to physically touch a ghost and it just seems like that isn't important to him, just a person who died and who is probably pretty interesting is enough for him, it's very sweet ∙ Again I think he's fucking the vampire because I mean- at the end of the day who wouldn't. It's just like a sexier person who maybe sucks your blood. C'mon. Also, he just isn't a werewolf fucker type. ∙ Admittedly, originally he was going to marry the werewolf for it's ability to go out into the sun but then he was reminded that every month that thing is HULKING OUT so he switched ∙ So like, I assume he was just focused on the negative aspects of the werewolf and that's why he said kill

ANYWAY-- I hope you enjoyed this, most of you seem to be as freaky obsessed with these clowns as I am so I thought it'd be good to write. Use it for Halloween I double-dog dare you.

[niyabiblioteca]

nsfw ablpabet: choi yeonjun

A: AFTERCARE

- i feel like yeonjun is the type to go from the most sexy and degrading (if you’re into that) dominant ever to the softest man alive for aftercare. he wouldn’t even take long to get into it because he feels like a minute wasted will make you feel unwanted or used and that’s the last thing he wants. will finish and immediately jump up to clean you up and then cuddle and praise you incessantly afterwards.

B: BODY PART

- yeonjun is definitely a thigh or waist kind of guy to me. i feel like he likes groping your thighs or belly when he gets the chance while fucking the cognitive thought out of you. even when you’re not having sex he can’t keep himself from touching them. he really could die with his head between your thighs and would honestly fuck his hard length between them if given the chance. but of course would get you off right after.

C: CUM

- yeonjun, no matter where his dick actually is during sexy time, will almost always find a way to finish all over your face. he doesn’t even care if it gets in your mouth or not. just seeing your gorgeous face covered in his thick release as you smile adorably back at him is enough to make his knees week. the sight of you looking so happy, blessed even, to receive it even while catching your breath is a sight he could never get tired of. hell, he might bust again just from seeing it.

D: DIRTY SECRET

- yeonjun kinda sorta definitely wants to fuck you in front of an audience. is it a power thing? is it his need to always show out and perform? even he doesn’t know. he just knows that he has thought about spreading you out on the coffee table in the living room and fucking your brains out before the eyes of all his members far too many times than he would ever admit. and it would be even better if his members got as turned on watching as he is imagining it. but alas, unless you bring it up yourself, we will take that to the grave.

E: EXPERIENCE

- yes, i am aware that this may be cliche or whatever, but i definitely think that yeonjun is experienced. i think he’s very well versed in all the ways to make a woman tick in all the right ways and has honed his skills to where he goes into every sexual encounter with unwavering confidence. he’s not shy about it either, i feel. but he’s also not the type to be cocky about it or act as if its a job. he enjoys the experiences just as much as the women seem to and is always happy to properly please.

F: FAVORITE POSITION

- anything that involves intense eye contact. more recently, doggy in front of a mirror. there’s many reasons for this train of thought. number one, those deep seductive fox eyes of his could probably make anyone melt in his hands. you know it, i know it, and in this case, so does he. he loves to see the way your pupils dilate and gloss over every time he pushes into you and especially loves to see your eyes roll back when he brushes against that sensitive spot inside of you. seeing you struggle to hold eye contact is also a huge ego boost as well.

G: GOOFY

- while i don’t think he’s too serious, i don’t think he would be a full blown clown during it. i mean, hes not childish, he understands that it’s sex and sometimes funny things can happen. he has no problem dropping the act to lightly giggle at something that happened, as long as you’re laughing with him too. he doesn’t want to make you embarrassed or uncomfortable because he doesn’t take it that seriously and feels that you shouldn’t either.

H: HAIR

-i think that yeonjun doesn’t really care about how you handle your hair down there. i think he’s definitely big on minding his own business (like a LOT of these people should) and never tries to tell someone what to do with their bodies, even if he is sleeping with them. as for himself, i don’t think he feels that going completely bald is necessary but he does keep it trimmed for maximum comfort on both ends.

I: INTIMACY

-how romantic yeonjun is really depends on the atmosphere and it is so easy for him to adjust. if your intention is to just chase a mind-numbing orgasm that you know he can provide over and over, he’s able to cater to that need and will call you whatever name you please during it. but let’s say you’re feeling down or need some affection, he will definitely become a soft love maker instantly. he wants to make it crystal clear that he loves you and worships your body to make sure that the message gets across.

J: JACK OFF

-i think that yeonjun is the type to rush when it comes to masturbating. while he would usually take his sweet time when ravaging your body like he does so well, he wouldn’t take the same care with himself. he needs to be able to nut and walk out the door, and i feel he has become great at that. i don’t think he needs an ambience or even porn to watch, although he will occasionally. he gives most of his energy when he is intimate with another person.

K: KINK

- yeonjun is totally down for overstimulation (giving and receiving). one one end, he loves to make you shake and quiver after making you cum more times than you even thought you could. nothing gets his blood flowing like seeing your tears build up from the overwhelming sensation (dacryphilia sneak too). but on the other end, if you make him cum with your mouth for instance, but you don’t pull off right away? oh he could combust right then and there. he would probably go so far as to overstimulate himself.

L: LOCATION

-now i personally think that for maximum comfort on both sides, a bedroom is ideal to do anything sexual. but, as i said for him being a bit of an exhibitionist, he wouldn’t be opposed to anywhere public, but not exactly out for everyone to see. so car, fitting room, bathroom, kitchen, and other places people could just walk up and come to.

M: MOTIVATION

- i feel like it isn’t exactly easy to get yeonjun riled up, but he’s not a stone either. sometimes it really depends on the day. some days just you wearing a short skirt will get him as hard as a rock, and other days it might just get an ass grab and a kiss. he doesn’t come off as a brat tamer to me, so i don’t think you acting out will do much either. he’s just a regular guy with regular turn ons.

N: NO

-now because i see yeonjun as a very open-minded person in terms of sex, i don’t think he would have any hard limits. but i will say i don’t think that he would want to be hurt in any way and i feel like he also wouldn’t be too much into pet names (for him). he prefers his name.

O: ORAL

-now i think we as moas can all agree, those lips are poppin. they’re always so soft and plump and moisturized, so he HAS to be good at using em!(my logic is weird but i gotta segue this somehow) i think he knows all the tricks of the trade when it comes to eating pussy. he knows all the techniques of licking and sucking and rubbing and flicking and the whole shabang. he loves going down on you before and after you guys actually fuck. as for receiving, he seems to be the type who doesn’t mind it getting sloppy or messy. in fact, it turns him on even more, and your gags also give him a lil ego boost.

P: PACE

- i personally think that yeonjun enjoys going hard and fast because he wants to get you drooling and cumming as quickly and as much as possible in record time. doesn’t mean he can’t switch it up and go slow or sensual, though. he just feels more comfortable pistoning into you at unforgiving speeds in order to get you making a mess around him.

Q: QUICKIES

-i feel like he would only choose quickies for two reasons: one, because he’s busy as hell and is often booked up but doesn’t want to leave you without any relief at all, and two, because he gets randomly horny in places where you guys can’t exactly take your time, so he decides to be a fuckin jackrabbit about the situation. outside of those two reasons, i don’t see him preferring quickies.

R: RISK

- i hate to keep coming back to the exhibitionist thing, but i just love it so much. unless he realizes that you’re into it too, he will remain 50/50 on doing sexual things in risky places. but if you are into it and let him know, he would probably choose to do risky shit in semi-public places on purpose. he likes to make it into a game: can you be quiet long enough to get us both off and get out of here before anyone notices, or will you ultimately get us banned from wherever the hell we are. and trust me, he’s fine either way.

S: STAMINA

- now one thing about us extroverts, we do not get tired easily. you may find us awake in the wee hours of the morning most of the time. so given that information, i think that he would probably perform without faultering for quite a long time. if he can do so while performing on stage, he can make that translate to the bedroom. as long you’re up for it, he can go all night.

T: TOYS

- i think whether or not yeonjun has toys heavily depends on if he’s in a relationship or not. if not, i doubt he would have one, if any at all. and if he did it would be something simple and mundane like a fleshlight or something. but if he is in a relationship, he would have a drawer designated for toys used between the two of you. i don’t think he would be into bondage so nothing of that nature but definitely some basic vibrators and things like that. i think the most extreme would be a cock ring or nipple clamps or something (the restricting one).

U: UNFAIR

- i think yeonjun can be a little shit when he wants to be. he would do some grimey shit just to get you squirming in your seat occasionally . but then again, just look at him. look at that fucking face. more often than not, he’s not even trying to tease you, it’s just your body working on it’s own. not that he’s complaining of course, it’s all the more fun for him in his book.

V: VOLUME

- yeonjun is a relatively loud person in and out of the bedroom. he knows when to shut up and when he can really let loose. if he’s trying to stay quiet then he would really just breathe heavily and maybe whisper some curses here and there. but if he’s allowed to be as loud as he wants, whew he’s swearing, praising you, degrading you, grunting, and sometimes just little whimpers because he knows how much those turn you on.

W: WILD CARD

-my personal headcannon for yeonjun is that i think he likes to record. not record the actual act of you and him fucking, but just the audio for him to use when he’s away from you and needs some material. your moans and his groans mixed with the heavy breathing and skin slapping and bed creaking all make for a hell of a jerk off session. once he gets permission from you, he would quickly get to work on an illustrious spank bank.

X: X-RAY

- now i’m not gonna be one of those who immediately say they’re fave has a fucking colossal dick because i don’t think he does. not saying it’s small either, but i’m just saying it’s probably average at most. he’s never been insecure about that though, mostly because he prides himself on his “motion of the ocean” and truly hates that whole ideal that big dick equals amazing sex. he is living proof that that is bullshit.

Y: YEARNING

- his sex drive is regular to him but absolutely insane to anyone else. he wakes up, wants to fuck. eats breakfast, wants to fuck. sits in an uber while listening to music, wants to fuck badly. with the way his sex drive is, you’d think he doesn’t get much action at all.

Z: ZZZ

- again, us extroverts don’t get tired easily. he uses that to his advantage when it comes to aftercare. he can do so much for you after the deed that by the time he’s done, you both are sleeping while cuddling together, which he honestly prefers.

————————————————————————

how dare i leave for 2 damn months and come back without a proper fic. anyway, not too much on me please, im a new moa as of a week ago sooo yeah

[pippin-pippout]

I just watched MelonTeee's video on Ace and Worth and man the internal debate I have with myself on whether I agree with the choice or not...

Her video explains the fandom's love for the character so well, as well as why the tragedy hit so hard. For me personally I have not been that affected by a character death in a LONG time.

And I understand it from a certain narrative perspective – mainly how Ace's past continues to feature in the story a decade later, and Whitebeard's line that someone would carry Ace's flame, because that clearly describing Luffy. He goes after the mera mera no mi and finishes what Ace started in Wano.

But there are two major narrative reasons given for Ace's death that I disagree with. And are largely why I think it shouldn't have happened, and also why the death has hit me so hard.

This is going to get long, but I would really love to hear everyone's thoughts on it if you choose to read!

To give Luffy the push he needed to be stronger: I am pretty confident this is Oda's stated reason (in addition to Oda wanting to prove he could kill characters which I guess he said at one point and which is bleh given the level of injury a character sustains seems to have nothing to do with whether they die or not lol it's just what the author wants to happen). Anyway. That push already happened on Sabaody when Luffy lost everyone to Duma. He was HELPLESS. More helpless than he was through most of marineford. And when Rayleigh convinces Luffy to do the 2 years training, Rayleigh only brings up their epic defeat on Sabaody. He does not bring up marineford or Ace's death as a reason Luffy needs to get stronger. Because Luffy did not need that reason. The only argument I can think of is that maybe once he landed on Amazon Lily, and he realized the strawhats were likely alive, the terror he felt on Sabaody abated slightly. And therefore maybe he needed a reminder of what "loss" truly is to re-motivate him. However, I don't think that is really fitting with his character or the story.

Ace's dream was fulfilled: Oda has talked about the reason he doesn't kill villains is because not having your dream fulfilled is a worse fate than death. I think part of the tragedy of Ace's death was that his dream wasn't fulfilled. Even for those who accept his last words - that he had only one regret which was not seeing Luffy accomplish his dream - the amount of time he got to live with that dream was literally the last moments of his life. But I don't think just because you die with no regrets, does not mean your dream is fulfilled. Especially when Ace never truly internalized what his dream was. His final choice to turn around showed HOW MUCH he still was that lonely, scared little kid he was at 10 despite his warm smile and his growing family. The most heartbreaking part of the flashback was not Sabo's death. It was watching Ace asking the question "do I deserve to exist?" and giving all his devotion to those who said yes. It was him making the exact same decision he would make 10 years later, to refuse to run, because he felt like if he ran he would lose everything and Luffy was standing behind him. Ace's final words do more than state he has no regrets. He also gives the answer to the question he'd asked Garp, and that Garp had said only his actions could decide. Ace died thanking Luffy and his family for loving him despite the "worthless" or "good for nothing" person he was. Ace was moved to tears to hear his family emphatically saying "YES. You do deserve to live! We want you to live!" But Ace never actually believed it. His last words were a reflection of gratitude for the love he was given that he didn't feel he deserved. And thus his final answer to the question "Do I deserve to exist?" was no.

That he was too "good" This is kind of the most upsetting one I've heard (thankfully not a lot) and also the one easiest to dismiss. Ace, being the actual son of the pirate king, being super powerful, growing in strength and reputation faster than Luffy (debatable), put him narratively in competition with Luffy. What I mean by that is it positions him as too much the golden character, the mary sue, the typical protagonist, when One Piece is about Luffy's story, not Ace's. I disagree with the premise of seeing Ace's character that way. But also even he was "that" character, it's pretty clear Ace's dream would have taken him to becoming Whitebeard's heir - whose dream it was to build a family - while Luffy is Gol D Roger's heir. So Ace's journey would have supported the main story of One Piece and also be narratively satisfying.

---

What Was Ace's Dream?

The dreams Ace stated out loud were more reflections of his actual, deeper dream. "I want to be the king of the pirates" - because he wanted to prove his existence and his worth to the world. Which switched to "I want to make whitebeard the king of the pirates" - because Whitebeard loved him despite his blood, and so even if that wasn't what Whitebeard wanted, it was how Ace understood he could repay Whitebeard.

Both of those stated dreams get back to this question he'd been asking his whole life - that of worth. Worth and Love, which, for Ace's character, are inseparable.

For Ace's dream to truly be fulfilled, it's not enough for him to accept he was loved – which he did on the scaffolds, crying from happiness – he had to believe he was worth that love. He had to love himself.

Ace died with that dream tragically unfulfilled.

---

The Purpose of One Piece

Of course the decision to kill Ace makes the story more realistic and of course it is heartbreaking, tragic, moving, and obviously inspires deeper discussion.

However, what rankled me from when I first learned about his death, which was way before I was even introduced to the character in Alabasta, was that he is the only character of the younger generation (outside of flashbacks) to die.

Honestly when I first heard Ace was one of the only characters to die, I was just worried it would make him seem weaker or stupider than every other character, which is a personal pet peeve of mine. Luckily for most fans, it didn't do that.

Instead, what wound up upsetting me was how it seemed to contradict the purpose of the story that is One Piece (at least what I think the purpose is). In doing so, it opposes the meaning that many fans find in this absurd, ridiculous, inspiring, heartfelt, heroic tale about a boy made of rubber.

One Piece is an escapist story about a boy named Luffy who inspires every good guy he meets to pursue and achieve their dream. It's also about Luffy beating up every bad guy who punishments are that they cannot fulfill their morally reprehensible dreams.

Because of Ace's premature death, he is the only good guy character in the main timeline who does not get to pursue his dream. And what's extra tragic is that he is also one of the most deserving of seeing his dream fulfilled.

[amoransia]

Chapter 72 spoilers and also insane screaming from me. You have been warned.

Oh LORD we're REALLY in it NOW! Hold me -- literally anybody, hold me!! I don't know if I will survive this arc! (or this manga at all, for that matter!)

Hell yeah, bro, fist bump!

What is in the water over there in the Ekuoto world? Like, genuinely? What are they drinking for them to come out like this? These homosexuals will be the death of me (lovingly).

Interesting how even Barbara and Leah get nicknamed "powerhouses" by Daniel. He uses 主戦力 in the raws which could mean "main military power" but also "main valuable assets"... once again seeing them not by their character but by their value? To be honest, I guess it doesn't mean much when he calls them this once, but I thought it was worth pointing out.

Anyway.

DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF?

Actual insanity lines this chapter. "Of course I'm cute." Hello? I guess being a witch deletes the very concept of shame off your brain? I kind of gaped like an idiot at this one.

30 something year old man to the teenage influencer: I'm cute, duh.

GET A GRIP

Oh boy. "I'll handle Vergilius." This is going to turn into the most doomed yaoi scene in the incoming chapters. And Charlotte is probably getting involved in one way or another. I don't know. I wish her luck, though.

"I wouldn't mind dying for you" oh yeah baybe I am about to do something drastic.

Man What The Fuck

Vergilius heard Dante's suicidal ideation and said, NOT ON MY WATCH!!!

It seems to me that the only thing keeping Dante alive is Vergilius. Because if he has no plans after finally killing him, what else is there for him? Just dying trying to repent for his mistakes? Finally let go? So I guess Vergilius recognizes this and decides he can't die. Because if he dies, then the man he (presumably) loves dies, too.

I saw someone mention this on Twitter: Dante can't live in a world where Vergilius doesn't exist (so he gives up on life when Vergilius is gone) while Vergilius won't accept a world where he and Dante can't live together (and therefore wants to change the world).

Weaow......

I think there's also something to say about Vergilius' childish appearance reflecting some sort of... inner workings of his? Does that make sense? I feel like the constant mention of it is trying to point to something. Like here:

Chapter 20 and 72 respectively.

But I'm not eloquent enough to put this into words. So I'll throw the idea out there instead!

Onto Imuri!

Lol the english translation didn't keep the heart Imuri added in her thoughts. Basically it's the same words but with a heart like "Oh, I've been here with Mr. Priest before ♡" Normally I wouldn't care, but I think this adds to her... character? Maybe? Well, whatever. Not particularly important, but The More You Know!

Imuri encounters Mystery Child!

I will begin by saying that I don't think it's Priest? Imuri herself doesn't think so either, so it's most likely someone else. They're muttering the name Rodrigo, which is curiously the name Belphegor uses when going to Earth in order to investigate marriage. Hm!!!! Inch resting indeed...

Oh, God! These expressions were genuinely heartrending. She really was looking for that sliver of hope -- that her hunch was wrong. That she and Imuri could stay friends. I am heartbroken for Leah. :( (and Barbara, for that matter).

They even try to find a middle ground, too! Barbara tries to find a common goal! They really don't want to exorcize her right now! But Imuri also raises valid points: why wake him to just put him to work again?

But then she says, soo confident in herself: what Priest needs right now is me. I guess she has actual proof of that? But by God it is so egoistical. (A word that describes Imuri quite well...)

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MY GIRL! MY GIRL! NEVERMIND WHAT I JUST WROTE, YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY FORGIVEN! (Fallen Priest voice)

She looks 1000x better with her fangs and her demon eyes, damn.

I'm not sure what she wins by revealing herself. She's still powerless, as far as I know. I guess she thinks she can run away with Priest using her come-to-life drawings?

Also FINALLY CONFIRMATION THAT SHE'S RELATED TO SATAN AND LILITH... THANK YOU, GOD. (Odd person to thank. Anyway,) I am well aware this doesn't mean she's like, their daughter or anything (merely related to them), but I really hope she is. It would be hilarious. Please grant me this wish, it would be so funny. (GIVE ME SATAN FATHER-IN-LAW SHENANIGANS!!!!!!!!!)

My friend mentioned that she might be revealing her connections to them in order to scare Leah and Barbara out of trying to exorcize her. After all, they don't know that she's magicless yet, right? So that might make them hesitate.

But in a way, this feels like Imuri is saying "don't you know who my parents are?! Don't mess with me!" LOL. Does this count as some sort of nepotism???

"He'll forgive me with a simple apology!"

Actually insane thinking. Priest-kun will LOSE it when he finds out everything was a lie (and this is probably where BL Satan comes in to tempt him into Wrath).

But yeah this is selfish thinking, typical of her.

I think it's really funny that in the raws "simple apology" is just a "ごめんね", which is kinda like "sorry!"

Girl, you are not getting forgiven with that. It's just not happening. You are not teehee'ing your way out of this one.

Finally..... I am kinda sad it seems we're nearing the end arcs of Ekuoto?(?) I've been following since the very first chapter released in Japanese, so I'll miss it dearly.... Cope: maybe this is the first part, á la Dante's Inferno. Purgatory next! (Zero chance of this happening)

Anyway, good chapter. It hurt me so good. Good chapter. (going insane)

[coolbanana44]

Picture Perfect Ch. 1 - C.L

AN: Hi guys this is chapter one of a series I am starting. I've always wanted to do this and I wanted it to be perfect so thats why it took awhile. Expect another chapter at the end of the week as I am starting to write it as we speak. If you enjoyed the first chapter please like it and even reach out as it is very motivating for me to see that you guys enjoy my writing! Love you guys!

Summary: This is a story of Y/N, Ferrari's new photographer. As the season goes on it seems like she is more than that to a certain driver.

I was never known for being an overly extroverted and social person. I was the type of person who never was seen and I was okay with that. I liked being in the background, observing people and trying to read them. That’s why I loved being a photographer. My face covered by the camera and taking pictures of everything around me. It started out when I got a polaroid one Christmas. I remember running around taking pictures of my family and seeing the photos develop and come alive. I liked looking at their expressions, some smiling and some annoyed with a little girl stuffing a camera in their face. I realized a picture can capture a small look into people's emotions, what they are thinking in the moment and from then on I was hooked.  

And now I am here, in Bahrain. When I applied for the job as a photographer for Ferrari I never thought I would actually get it. It was a dare from my friend Lindsey. She knew how much I loved Formula One and always dreamed of taking pictures of the cars and drivers. But she also knew I was scared of taking a leap of faith. So she said if I applied and got the job she would ask the barista she has a crush on out on a date.

 Stepping into the paddock I was overwhelmed. So many people, people I have only seen on TV before. I was somewhat excited as this was my dream, but nervous of screwing this up. As I was about to move I heard a voice from behind me. 

“Y/N?” I turned around to see a middle-aged man. Decked out in Ferrari gear and a camera adorned around his neck. 

“Hi I’m Amelio, I was told to give you a tour around and show you the ropes.” I just smiled and nodded my head. 

As we were walking around he started talking about the job and the expectations. I tried paying attention, but when you see Toto Wolf on a scooter your mind starts to focus on that. We soon made it to the Ferrari motorhome and as we were about to step inside, Amelio looked at his phone.

“Uhh I have to go, I promise I will be right back, it won’t take me more than five minutes!” And before I could say anything he walked away. 

Great, now I am all alone. I started fiddling with the camera, adjusting the settings and taking a couple of practice pictures of the building in front of me to make sure everything looks right. 

“Excuse me?” I jumped at the voice beside me. I turn to see the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Jawline chiseled by the greek gods, mesmerizing sea green eyes, tanned flawless skin. I haven’t been living under a rock so I know that this man is Charles Leclerc and before my brain can process that information, he reaches out and touches my shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked at me all concerned. 

“Oh no don’t worry about it.” I said calmly (which surprised me). He takes his hand off my shoulder and holds out his hand for me to shake, I smile and gladly accept. 

“I’m Charles.” He laughed, probably seeing how in awe I am in.

“Y/N.” I snap out of it. He drops his hand and for some reason I find myself craving more of his touch. 

“Are you the new photographer? I haven’t seen you before and I would sure remember a pretty face like yours.” The blush on my cheeks must be evident because he smirks at my reaction. 

“Yea I am. Amelio was about to give me a tour around the motorhome but he had to go somewhere.” I have never had someone compliment me before, so I am amazed with my confidence in being able to hold eye contact or even speak.

“I can give you a tour if you like?” He gives me a charming smile. I am hesitant to say sure because I don’t know if my heart can take being next to this man for another minute. But at the same time Charles' presence is intoxicating so I let out a breath and say sure. 

He leads me through the motorhome telling me which rooms are for what, introducing me to some of the engineers and mechanics. He even started asking me questions like where are you from? What made me want to become a photographer? Just random things. At first I kept my answers short but he was comfortable to be around and I let my guard down. At times like now Charles' hand would occasionally brush past my waist as we were so close and I would get distracted by his warm touch, and I would start fantasizing what his hands would feel like around me…. 

“Y/N? You okay?” That instantly snapped me back to reality.

“Uhhhh.. Yea… sorry I kinda spaced out a bit.” I looked down trying to hide the heat rising to my cheeks. He chuckles at my shyness. 

“Do you think you will be okay by yourself? I have to meet with the engineers and then I have to focus on the race.” I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He was easy to talk to (and easy on the eyes), he was comforting. If he saw me starting to get overwhelmed he would redirect our conversation and I was grateful for that. I simply just gave him a nod. 

“Thank you for the tour. I enjoyed it.” I turn to fully look at him. That's when I realized how close we were. Only a couple of inches apart due to the confined space. So close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. He seemed to realize our position too as he grew red. His blushing caused me to have a pit in my stomach, a good kind. 

“Hey um.. After the race a couple of the drivers were talking about going to the club for the start of the season. You are more than welcome to come.” Normally I would say no. I was never the kind of girl to go out and get sweaty and drunk with strangers, but Charles was the one asking me and I wanted to spend more time with him. 

“Sure.” He looked taken back by my response, probably expecting me to say no. 

“Great! It's the rock bar club and we are going to be there at nine. I can drive you if you like.” I couldn’t help but have my eyes go wide. 

“No… no it's okay.” I said a little too quickly. It’s not like I don’t want him to drive me, I just let my mind spiral. Like what if someone got a photo of us in the car? I don’t want people to start to notice me and then have to deal with the aftermath. But the look on his face when I turned his offer down was making me rethink my decision. 

“Oh..okay. Well I’ll see you later then. It was nice meeting you Y/N.” The look of disappointment turned into a warm smile. And then he was off and I was stuck there thinking about what I have gotten myself into.  

[kymerawrites]

Maffia boss! x Simon Riley

I’m way to creative, needed a small break from sir Simon Riley as I have ALOTT of ideas

I was the daughter of one of the most rich and powerful people in underworld. Too bad I was a daughter and not the son yet my mother couldn’t conceive any children after me my dad was doomed with a woman taking over his business, and I was fucking great at it.

Because of me, his empire expended way beyond Cartagena, Colombia. I got our secret formula in the USA, England, Seychelles South France, Brazil, China, Australia, and many more countries. We also had a lot of allies in politics because of me and the CIA I was booming in this business, and the people I partnered with were all crushing on me, I was the baddest bitch alive right now and everyone knew that. I was on top of the game and I liked to stay that way until I started playing a dangerous game with SAS, agent and member of the task force 141 Simon Riley.

My head was all over money. I only talked in money. I only loved money, and I only wanted money. I was a material girl I love anything that was expensive you could see it on me. I was really expensive looking woman and it made me felt super powerful. But now that I am on top of the game there are always the jealous motherfuckers that want to take you down.

“Do we have any information about this woman price?” All the task force and even general Shepard was in the meeting.

“ this is one of the most dangerous woman on our list right now Shym Medusa. She has one of the biggest maffia leaders in Colombia and has a very secretive formula of drugs that no one can find out and it makes people go to war. We need to take her down as soon as possible because she’s also overruling us.”

 Simon looked at the information “there’s no picture of her..”

Soap also agreed “how do we find a woman if we cannot even see the woman?”

Price sighed “ we also found el sin Nombre who was faceless in their business. This will be easy.”

 Simon looked again at the information on the screen. He was kind of impressed a woman doing after that on her own, and have been one of the strongest leaders in the world right now he wanted to find out who she was, and of course take her down.

He didn’t realize that it might be so easy to take her down, but it was way harder to actually take her down. They infiltrated her in Columbia in a club where they went out as regular guests one of the bars she saw her sitting with a whole team of people that were seen as her ‘family’ were a few of the most skillful, murderers, snipers fighters, and even some agents. She had a strong army with the task force one for one even be powerful enough to take them down?

 I was sitting on my regular table. We had a bunch of cash on the table almost too much to even count. This was my club when I implement my money and my hour into something I own it just like one of the many clubs, banks, and other things that I have taken over until I saw someone with a school mask and a bacalava sitting on across in the club. he was muscular and mysterious something pulled me towards him. He looked deep in the eye. Those eyes spoke something that I couldn’t catch.

I excuse myself from the table and walk towards the bar where I ordered a martini. I lit up a sigaret and looked at the man again, he stared me in the eye

“i’ve never seen you in my club before who are you? are you here to make a deal maybe because I’m talking cash right now.”

 Simon was in shock. This woman was magnificent, beautiful, and she had an aura that said I am that woman. She look confident like she’s bragging about it.

“I’m here for you miss medusa, but I don’t know what my goals are yet, I just wanted to see such a stunning woman like you.” 

“You’re playing a dangerous game doing business with me sir, it’s for the players who really want to play.”

Ghost nodded “I’m aware sugar.”

She looked him in the eye, tilting her head to side something about the way… the way he said Sugar made her impressed something not everyone could do, everyone who approached her, wasn’t that good for her, but somehow she was from this mysterious skeleton mask man.

I sipped my martini “what is your proposal? Do you have any allies or affiliates I need to know about to consider doing business with you?” 

Simon instantly fell questions. How would he play this off? She was maybe one of the most stunning person he’s ever seen, he gave her the thrills no one else could in a woman, he dated a few but they were all so mediocre, he saw something in her that stood out.

“ if you join me tonight there’s no going back, from now you’re my partner and you cannot leave so I suggest you think really good about the choice you’re going to make next.”

this was a big sacrifice, but it was needed for his team. The only word he said “I’m down to do business.”

“Very well..what is your name?”

“Call me ghost.”

LMK IF YOU WANT A PART 2 bc I know I can write this GREAT

[ruinaimagines]

what do you think it would take for Heathcliff to warm up to somebody? because right now I feel like he'd scare a lot of people off with how brash and violent he is, but it'd be interesting if someone managed to befriend him.

I love him. And yes, I am alive! I am still crawling on. somehow.

Heathcliff Warming up to Someone Headcanons:

It is true that his outwardly brash nature is what a lot of people are initially met with, especially if they happen to be of some authoritative stance, but that’s mainly because of his own preconceived judgements. He’s a rather reasonable and good man otherwise.. Just a bit quick to jump to opinions.

If he doesn’t feel as though you are demanding respect from anyone then you have quite a decent chance of getting along. Talk to him as though he’s an actual person and you’ll find he’s pretty cooperative unless what you’re telling him to do is something he deems as outrageous.

Even though I lovingly call him an idiot, he’s quite the opposite. Heathcliff is a very apt man. We’ve seen this during Canto II with how he diverts the attention of the casino guards. He’s just a bit impulsive in some cases in the same sense that Don is. If he sees something he considers to be wrong, insulting, or similar he is quick to action if no one else is. He’s very good with short-term solutions but doesn’t immediately consider the implications for the long term. That’s Faust’s job. He’s clever and witty.

His recklessness also stems from the fact that death isn’t actually a problem for him (poor Dante), so not much is stopping him from speaking his mind. Unless the situation is really dire he has no desire to shut his mouth. Will still mutter under his breath.

He would immediately get along a lot better with you if you share any kind of similar passions in disrupting the system, calling people out, and overall being very blunt on the blatant ignorance and audacity some people have. While not to say the other sinners don’t agree, they just typically don’t really comment on it either. To have someone else that he can rant with and be brutally honest with? Ohhh that is just going to fuel the flames.

Would find you funny as hell if you insult the smug, sleazy workers of the city you happen to run into. Even better if it’s directly in their faces. Will back you up even if you don’t know each other much at this point because it’s entertaining. 

I believe that you have a pretty solid chance of getting along even if you don’t immediately call out someone to their face so long as he overhears you complaining about it later. Not all people have the confidence he does, and sometimes it’s easier for you to let it be in the moment as long as it’s not too treacherous or there’s quips here and there.

The most crucial part in befriending him is first and foremost about establishing a sense of likemindedness. If he doesn’t see you as an agreeable person, then chances are he won’t think well of you either. You don’t have to be as loud about it as he is but even stating something along the lines of ‘That is wrong and it needs to be acknowledged and not smoothed over’ after the fact works for him.

I think that it would be a lot more difficult for him to see eye to eye with someone who so compliantly follows along with orders and seems indifferent to the cruelty and justice around them. There needs to be some kind- any kind of proof that you have humanity and aren’t willing to stay complicit with continuing what is seen as morally wrong by him.

He’s a very passionate guy which can be a little difficult to navigate because he can very easily get lost to more aggressive feuds or grudges, in these situations he’s a bit unreachable in that he is very unlikely to hear others out. When it calms down though his opinion may alter slightly especially the longer he knows a person. Still sticks very close to his own truth nonetheless.

With this it becomes easier to talk to him because there’s no longer that  preconceived notion he holds over you, whatever it may be. You might find him even gravitating more near you or valuing your opinions a little higher than the others. When Faust is droning on he tends to tune her out, but whatever you’re saying he’s more encouraged to listen in on. There isn’t much of a difference in the moment, but you’ll notice that he’s completely forgotten what Faust has advised whereas he brings up a note that you mentioned instead.

Don’t expect the bickering to go anywhere. Friend or not, there will still be snide remarks here and there, though if you’re on good terms with him they’re meant in a more playful snarky way as opposed to a genuine complaint. Best be quick witted yourself.

You’re one of the few who can get away with insulting him without paying the typical price of being smacked over the head unconscious with his bat! Something that has happened an unnecessary amount of times with the other sinners much to the displeasure of Dante. Don’t expect to be completely devoid of being pushed around though. I imagine him to be the type of person to slam his hands around your shoulder with such force that it will completely knock the wind out of you for a joke.

Heathcliff is sort of hard to reach emotionally, even if you two get along very well. It can be kind of difficult to delve deeper into his own problems no matter how good on terms you are with him. He’s approachable in the way that his inferiority complex makes it extremely unlikely for him to ever mention his own shortcomings or communicate his distress in a way other than anger. Heathcliff does not want to have someone pity him, and above all he doesn’t want to be seen as weak.

It’s very hard to navigate, there’s hardly a right answer of how to go about it because it’s something that’s so emotionally fuelled that your best case scenario is just trying to listen and be more casual about it if something ever did get brought up. It’s a sore spot, don’t be surprised or feel bad if he snaps at you because he feels like you’re trying to be his therapist, it’s a spur of the moment thing and he’d feel bad afterwards. He just wants to be seen as a person.

Try to pry very little, what small trace amounts you get from him of his own personal experiences is something you’ll just have to take. Heathcliff might seem to be in particularly pissy and broody moods from time to time, whether from a bad interaction or something deeper, you can ask him what happens but if he says to drop it then it's recommended you do.

I feel like he isn’t ready to unpack everything, he finds it unneeded and a hindrance to get all sappy and focus on how he feels. That said I don’t know if there ever would be a proper time… aside from his canto.

You become his complaining buddy. He will trash talk either the others or some unpleasant person you’ve met while at work. It’s honestly fascinating some of the most obscure and abhorrent insults he can construct, beat only by Ryoshu of course. Her’s is just vulgar.

He is so biased it’s not even subtle. Heathcliff might seem a bit unapproachable at first but you’ll quickly come to realize that if you offer a sort of loyalty then he will return it. Might make fun of you for getting into a tricky situation, but he will do everything he can to pull you out of it and I think that’s what makes him such a good companion.