#i cannot stand ruthlessness and do not even get me started on everything to do with scylla

[everydayarsonist]

crashing out over how Epic completely destroys of odysseus’ character arc.

i like the songs, but- this? this is not my problematic blorbo.

[lewisinho]

✨lewis hamilton’s most underrated mercedes drives ✨🏎️

as promised, part 2 with some mercedes drives (by all means not an exhaustive list, but at the very least i hope, a worthy one); lewis’ mclazza drives collection for those interested: here

fav lil’ guy finally free from the clutches of ron dennis and mclaren, handed some rocketships, reunited with blond guy named nico and entering his domination era; live laugh love achieving zen era comes much later; this is lewis hamilton who is ready to fight god and anyone who stands in his way; there’s a ruthlessness to him and his driving, which he will use and he will use it well, he’s talented and good, you watch lewis in a car that can perform and it’s just such a pleasure to witness what he is capable of doing; he is a racer, first and foremost, and he is obsessed with winning, i mean obsessed, the way he celebrates every single win like it’s his very first; he loves and bleeds this sport, even if it can be incredibly cruel to him (and still is, to this day). and btw still the king of the fucking circus, don’t you forget it. chasing your own destiny and creating a myth out of your legacy, you know when david bowie said i always had a repulsive need to be something more than human… yeah lewis who’s afraid of not doing enough, of not being enough, he cannot remain human, he must be something more, he needs to be the best and he wants it more, and you know for a man who has ‘divine love’ tattooed on his hand, what does a narrative mean? for someone who believes that what he does is an art form and who describes racing as a spiritual experience, one must presume there is some form of divinity he believes he can obtain,,,anyway 🙃, allons-y: 

hungary 2014 🇭🇺 aka the usual hamilton hungarian cook sesh’ (he’s a bit insane around this track ngl)

arguably his most underrated non-win drive; pitlane start to p3 and features radio gold such as ✨i’m not slowing down for nico ✨💅 iconique if you ask me; the racing gods decided to plague him with brake issues and a hot seat burning his ass on top of his car already catching on fire during quali (give this guy a break lmao); everything was against him, and he still got a podium. also his overtakes during this race...and specifically THAT overtake on jev *chefs kiss*. i also endorse his criminal behaviour and his last-lap shenanigans with nico as well. 10/10 no notes.

silverstone 2015 🇬🇧 aka cloud watching pays off

lewis at silverstone. yeah. but add a bit of spice in the form of english weather™️. instincts of a man from stevenage and one prescient decision to pit for inters at just the right time before the heavens opened and you get a win by 11 seconds ahead of the next guy and a whole field of cars scrambling in the wet. luck or genius? they asked. 'i can see the clouds over stowe'. he saw the clouds and nico approaching, pulled the trigger on lap 43 and won the race, so you tell me. also features some celebratory donuts (he was so happy after the race, silverstone means a lot to him and you can really tell) and bono soaking wet on the podium 😁

brazil 2016 🇧🇷 aka the interlagos saga continues

whatever max verstappen was doing to nico rosberg in this race is one thing (objectively hilarious), but lewis hamilton, you see he won that race; babes after the race said he was watching the screens around the track while driving in the brazilian downpour, unbothered, incredibly moisturised, happy, very much in his lane, focused and flourishing; and as mentioned in lewis’ underrated mclaren drives post, lewis at interlagos is special, the lore, the myth of it all runs deep, and this is the first time he’s won! in the pouring rain, while trailing in a championship he will eventually lose, he’s finally achieved a dream he’s had: winning in brazil; the red flag period also features baby sharl nervously glancing at lewis in the haas garage (who’d have thought they’d trauma bond over a dsq in austin 7 years later…)

abu dhabi 2016 🇦🇪aka anarchy

yes, i included this race because i stand with my cancelled wife; they were calling for his ass to be fired after the race, paddy lowe was screaming in his ear to speed the hell up, blasphemy, heresy, how dare he disobey his team, how dare he want to win the championship! anyway, like yeah ofc it wasn’t entirely respectful, but it’s racing at the end of the day; a driver will prioritise himself, and lil’ war criminal lewis, i adore you very much (he had horner defending him lmfao while torger was sending him to red bull); the shitstorm in the media afterwards, goodness gracious tho; no wonder lewis and toto needed a sit-down in toto’s kitchen lol; but it’s such a beautifully well-managed race; of course he could go faster, of course he knew exactly what he was doing slowing down and speeding up in just the right places…all in one desperate but masterful attempt at winning the championship; in the end, it wasn’t in his hands, but it is still a great race to watch purely for the mind fuckery and mercedes being absolutely pissed. also, it’s very much an end of an era.

monza 2018 🇮🇹 aka one man and his machine against a nation of ~60 million people

maybe 'underrated' is the wrong word to use for this one in all honesty, people give his ‘18 post-summer break run its due honours, because this is lewis destroying the hopes and dreams of the tifosi, sebastian vettel and the ferrari establishment with maurizio arrivabene at the helm race by race, lap by lap; it’s lewis at arguably, his strongest yet, he danced in that w09, those magnificent quali laps, those races that he dominated from start to finish...but monza, oh monza, maybe there’s something so poetic about that race and starting the run of domination in ferrari land; it’s got lewis vs kimi!!! nostalgia merchants will absolutely adore this one because it’s just like those ‘07 races, also brilliant strategy from merc and lewis and his incredible, jaw-dropping race pace driving like a man possessed 

hungary 2019 🇭🇺 aka the infamous one that inspired spain '21

when lewis arrives at the hungaroring, you know the man is about to cook something worthy of a michelin star. add a two-stop strategy masterclass from one james vowles and you get an absolute classic of a race and if you know what happened just a week earlier (the trials and tribulations of hockenheim), it also feels like redemption; two cars fighting for the win, lewis banging in quali lap after quali lap as he hunts down max; clinical, faultless, and brilliant and it’s such a satisfying race to rewatch (bonus: there’s also jv on the podium and lewis looking incredibly proud)

spain 2020 🇪🇸 aka the pure brilliance of lewis and the w11

jallison’s monster, w11. when she first appeared in fp1 on a friday morning in southeastern austria, best believe the first notes of the imperial march already sounded prophetically around the styrian alps. an icon, a legend, she was the moment and we miss her dearly. pair her with one lewis hamilton, a man on a mission both on track and off it, and you will produce sexiness. purple helmet + black w11 legendary combo, the sheer cunt serving, the audacity, THE presence; i could mention any race from 2020 (notably, tuscany and portugal bc they fly under the radar as well in terms of lewis' performances) but i will add spain to this list, mostly because of what lewis said post-race about what he experienced during the race and why it epitomises the brillance of him as a driver: "i was just in a daze out there", "i was in a different zone then, didn't know it was the last lap" ; you don't reach perfection, but you chase it (as he also mentioned in the press-co), but there's something quite sublime in seeing him deliver such a performance, when he himself is left well, stunned; this is the race that could be lewis hamilton's 90 minute masterclass on tyre management.

hope you enjoyed these vroom vroom recs; might still yet do a merc 2.5 post cause there are a few other drives that also deserve a mention 💜🏎️

[lestappenforever]

okay so I wanna voice my opinion bc I feel your blog as the only safe space where I can do that.

regarding Newey leaving the team: I absolutely agree on not seeing him returning to McLaren. I don't think this team at the moment can provide to Newey both sufficient salary and leeway. McLaren are coming back from a slump and I think Newey would be interested in working with those who have come out of that more or less reliably or have long established themselves as a top team. He does not have time to rebuild the team which fell. McLaren needs time, though they are making great progress.

going to Aston Martin: maybe, especially from 2026 as they are switching to Honda engines and Newey already has experience and connections with this company and their supplies from his time in Red Bull. also in the team there is Alonso, which could interest Newey, but most likely this is the last contract for Fernando, and therefore there won't be long years of joint work. further to work with the team in which one of the pilots absolutely cannot realize the potential of the car (side-eye to Stroll) is a waste of time. and with all the rumors of selling Astons – Newey needs someone who can stand their ground confidently.

I don't think Newey is interested in Mercedes in any way, because they've currently lost a driver that he would like to work with, and also got the car concept horribly wrong. all the ground effect era doesn't go well for them. and atm I don't see it changing.

if I remember it right (correct me if I'm wrong) Newey has twice in his career expressed interest in working with scuderia and perhaps now he finally has the opportunity to do so. he was seriously stopped by the fact of moving to Italy, so we'll see how it turns out.

I am not a tifosi, god knows I hate this traditional team, but I respect the work they are doing and the probability of Newey leaving to go to Ferrari is the greatest right now. two drivers with the potential to compete for the title and both can adapt their style to the car. one of them has 7 titles, the other has the potential to compete for the title PLUS importantly has a natural preference for oversteer.

Hamilton and Leclerc are gonna be the best duo to extract everything out of the car and push it to the limit. we'll see how the teammate dynamic will go, but they're both respectful enough to each other. even if once they'll crash, they will talk, solve the problem and move on.

but to be honest I wouldn't worry about Red Bull fans. at least until the end of the current technical regulations. the 2025 car is being developed during 2024 so maybe Ferrari will gain strength and by 2025 Max will have some competition, but there can't be a failure for sure. and lastly: with the new technical regulations Newey usually does not immediately get exactly into the concept and build a "self-driving" car. it usually takes him time so it depends not only on Newey's work but also on how the other teams fucked up or on the contrary amazingly get into the concept.

I've read info that a lot of things on the technical side have also been under Pierre Vache's direction in recent years. so that's when Ferrari pulls him (and then Hannah Schmitz) off as well, I'd start to panic.

I seriously rationally see Ferrari getting stronger, Mercedes falling lower and lower (and it won't be any better in 2025, they fucked up) and maybe at some point these two teams will form a league of top teams, Aston, Macs and Mercs as mid-fielders and then the further outsiders.

however over the next decade (?) I think Williams can make a serious comeback. James Vowles is actually quite ruthless, don't let his insinuating and calm tone fool you. this is the man who swapped places between Valtteri and Lewis in a Mercedes even without the need. he cares about the drivers but first of all he cares about the team. so don't be surprised if Logan will end up without the seat next year.

James Vowles is a strategist and has already started to change the team and also the approach to the car. imo it is a known fact that the car of the top team is built so that it is good everywhere: straights, fast-corners, low speed corners... they might not be the best. but they're good everywhere. balance is the key to success. outsiders, on the other hand, make sure that the car has pronounced strengths. therefore, the car can only score points on a track that suits its configuration. the strong point of Williams was the straights. this year it is not as pronounced as in previous seasons, but it is a sacrifice for future development. keeping an eye on this team because their approach is the most promising in the long run of all the outsider teams.

and one last thing I wanted to say for everyone reading this post and especially for those new to Formula 1 fandom: don't let vroom vroom world events affect you emotionally. otherwise every new weekend will be an emotional swing. don't cry about Newey leaving, don't get mad at James for his decision on Logan in Australia. there is no point. you have no influence on these events and negative emotions are not the nicest thing to feel. so just observe. this will keep you sane.

thank you very much for reading this long ask, I really want to know your opinion on my takes. please, tell me if you disagree, I'm very open to see arguments, why am I wrong. thank you once again 💚

First of all, I'm so happy that you see my blog as a safe space to share your thoughts! That makes me so happy.

Anon, I don't have anything at all to add to this, not to mention that I do not have anything I can say I disagree with. So if you don't mind, I'm just going to leave this here in all its glory. Just know that I am in love with your mind. 💚

[warrioreowynofrohan]

1, 13 and 25 for the choose violence asks please!

the character everyone gets wrong

Let's see, I already did Maedhros, and and I did posts about most of the other Fëanoreans as well (but seriously, everyone does get Celegorm wrong, he's politically ambitious and dangerous, not dumb and feral).

I think much of fandom gets the Valar wrong. The thing that I always come back to about the Valar is that everything they do is about love for the Eruhini and wanting them to be happy and safe and well. They err (because the Eruhini are meant for more than just being happy and safe), but it's all coming from that place of love and care. They ask the Elves to come to Aman so that they're not exposed to the dangers of Middle-earth. (I think they don't stay in Middle-earth in part because they remember Almaren and the destruction of the lamps, which ruined continents.) They let the elves do basically what they want - they've got virtually no rules besides "don't threaten to kill people" and "don't kill people", both of which come up in response to situations they really never anticipated. The rescue of Maedhros by Thorondor and the foundation of Nargothrond and Gondolin shows that they are clearly willing to help the Noldor, even after the Kinslaying and the Doom.

The difficulty is, in part the nature of their power. The Valar are at the same time tremendously powerful, to the point where they cannot have a direct war with the forces of evil without it levelling continents, and much less powerful than we expect them to be. They can't stop the Kinslaying by snapping their fingers and pulling all the elves' weapons out of their hands; that's not an ability they have, and getting involved would mean personally killing large numbers of elves, something they are clearly unwilling to do. They're far from omniscient; they don't always know what's happening outside Valinor. So people get confused and aggravated by them, because they simultaneously have the powers of gods and lack the powers of comic book superheroes.

13. worst blorboficiation

Finrod!! I get so tired of seeing him portrayed as a ditz, as a flake, as naïve, as sleeps-with-everything. Finrod is probably both the most intelligent and the most intellectually curious character in The Silmarillion (come on, the longest scene we get with him an an extended philosophical debate!), as well as being the wisest and most thoughtful. He's the linchpin of diplomacy for all Beleriand and things fall apart without him. He's not naïve; he walks to his death knowing that's what he's doing (he's already foreseen that his oath to Barahir will destroy him and that Nargothrond will not survive).

I think where it comes from is the fact that he's kind, and there's a sort of assumption running through society that kindness and intelligence/awareness are opposed to each other; that someone who is ruthless must also be intelligent, and that someone who is kind must also be dumb. (I partly blame House and Sherlock.) Neither are true.

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

"Yes but the Silmarils are the Fëanoreans' property!" When did tumblr of all places start believing in the absolute sanctity of property rights? No need to go all stand-your-ground/libertarian about it.

I don't care. I really don't. I think that Beren and Lúthien achieving the impossible feat of getting one out of Angband, at overwhelming personal cost and in the teeth of Fëanorean opposition, does give them a right to it, and I think the Fëanoreans cease to have any right to make any demands whatsoever of the people they attempted to rape and murder, or of those people's son. The Silmaril itself accepts Beren's claim, in despite of the Silmarils being hallowed against "mortal flesh", even as it later rejects the Fëanoreans'. Beren and Luthien suffer greatly in order to obtain the Silmaril, they are meant to have it, and the fact that it is part of their family line enables the salvation of Middle-earth. That's enough for me.

[daidonzo]

Chapter 21 - This world is only going to break your heart

You were staring at Chishiya from across the room.

He had said, very naturally, helping you close a collar that could blow your head off at any moment around your neck, that during this game you should pretend not to know each other.

"Excuse me?" You were still fuming because of that almost-kiss that had left you standing there, opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish, with your eyes shut.

"It's a hearts game." He stated.

"You told me…"

"I am not using you, but they will. You are not a liability, but us caring for each other is."

You had accepted after a while, because it did make sense. You just didn't like that it had to be like that.

So there you were, in the central guardroom of a prison (apparently penitentiary center was just a fancy name for jail), surrounded by two types of people: one, those who looked scared and were trying to make themselves seem smaller so that nobody would focus on them… And two, those who looked just plain bored and uninterested.

There was actually a third type: Chishiya. Observing everything and everyone, having placed himself in a position where he was able to watch any player that would come in, arms crossed, wearing the hood of his white jacket and hiding his face in the shadows.

You guessed you didn't fit into any of those categories either, because you were nervously fidgeting, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, drumming your fingers against the wall.

"Difficulty, Jack of Hearts." You looked around you. The palms of your hands started to sweat.

"He is not going to let you die." You whispered softly, so that nobody else could hear you. Even if they would, they wouldn't have understood, since you had used your native language.

But you had doubts, of course you did. Because knowing Chishiya as well as you did (would you say you knew him well? Or just more than others?), you knew he was ruthless, selfish and stone-hearted. He wasn't like that with you, though. Or was it all just a role he was playing?

He had betrayed Arisu and Usagi, after all.

You shook your head to get rid of those thoughts. They were not true. It was just the anxiety of having to play this foolish game.

The voice continued, and the only screen present in the room lit up. "Game: Prison Cell. Rules: guess the suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you cannot see your own suit." You lifted your hand towards your own collar, and tried to move it. No, it wouldn't shift. "The time per limit round is one hour. Five minutes before the time is up, enter one of the prison cells and guess what your own suit is." A corridor illuminated. It was, just as the woman's robotic voice had said, full of holding cells.

"If you do not guess your suit correctly, the game is over for you. When time runs out, your collar will explode, and you will die. In addition, your suit will change at every round."

"But we just need to have someone tell us what it is, right? That'll be easy!" Exclaimed a guy wearing a striped t-shirt and overalls, standing next to Chishiya. He seemed too nice to be here. And to have survived this long.

"Prison Cell is a test of how much can you trust others." The voice kept going. "In addition, the Jack of Hearts has secretly joined the game as one of the participants." Of course they had.

You looked at the young man who had spoken. You felt sorry for him, especially after seeing the look on his face now.

You found that you were not too worried. Chishiya would tell you your suit. You would tell him his. Both of you would survive this. Unless one of you lied. But… None of you would, right?

This was what the game was all about.

"Clear condition: Every hour, this will be repeated. The game is cleared when the Jack of Hearts, who is hiding among you, is killed. Prohibited activities: use of reflective objects or surfaces. You may also not use violence or weapons to kill others."

Basically, you couldn't just go crazy, like Aguni did on The Beach and start shooting everybody. You had to trick the Jack of Hearts into trusting you, and lie to them about their suit.

"There is no time limit."

This game could last forever, then.

"There is plenty of food. While participating in this game, the days remaining on your visas will not be reduced. The game starts now." A countdown of one hour showed up on the screen. "You may pass the time anywhere you like until it is time to enter a prison cell."

You looked around. No one had yet moved, but groups were starting to form.

You couldn't trust anyone. Anyone except the blonde man who had decided to pretend like you didn't know each other at all. You looked at him, but he wasn't looking on your direction.

"I have an idea! Why don't we make a team and tell each other? Then nobody can lie." A very pretty girl with space buns and a blue dress had spoken, a smile on her face. People rushed to join her. But what the others didn't notice is that she was clearly establishing herself as the leader of said group. And, if she decided to lie to someone and get rid of them, they would all follow. Or maybe you were reading too much into this.

You grunted, pressing the bridge of your nose between your index and thumb. You could feel a pounding headache coming up.

"Hey!" The pretty girl, who had introduced herself as Urumi, was coming towards you. "Do you want to join our team? It's okay if you don't want to. Oh, maybe you don't speak…"

"I do." You said simply, smiling as wide as you could given the circumstances, hoping to fool the others. You realized you sounded scared, and switched to a more cheerful tone. "Both, I speak your language and would like to join! Thank you so much!"

Surprisingly, Chishiya and the guy in overalls joined the team as well.

You started to tell each other your suits.

You breathed deeply when your turn came, lifting your hair so that the others could see the back of your neck.

"Spades!" Urumi giggled. The others did as well. But you didn't fully relax until you heard Chishiya's voice.

"Spades."

They were not lying, then.

But still, when it was time to enter the prison cell and declare your suit, you didn't feel calm.

What if they had lied? What if Chishiya had lied, as well, just to not be discovered by the others? He wouldn't have done that. He loved you. He had said so himself.

Was everything that had happened between you two just a lie? A preparation for this moment?

"Spades." You whimpered, barely audible.

The door made an opening sound. So they hadn't lied to you. He hadn't lied to you.

You were still alive.

And so was everybody else.

Nobody had died.

You saw the guy with the overalls smile at Chishiya, his excitement at being alive being met with a blank, unemotional stare. You sighed. Would it kill him to show a little bit of kindness and compassion towards others? The poor guy just wanted a friend, someone to trust.

So you got close to them, and smiled, as bright as you possibly could.

"Hi! I'm so glad everything worked out so well! What's your name?"

The blonde man looked at you, probably wondering what the hell you were doing, but you ignored him.

"I'm so glad, as well! My name's Ippei, what's yours?" You told him. "Oh, so nice!"

"Thank you! And what about you?" You turned to Chishiya, looking at him directly in the eyes. You had to pretend like you didn't know each other, that didn't mean you couldn't meet in game, did it?

And just as it had happened in a theme park after a game of diamonds in which he had saved your life, a long, long time ago, the man stared back. Only this time, he couldn't avoid the half-smile present on his lips.

"Name's Chishiya."

[ammy246]

Analyzing “Sacrifice” aka Raven Branwen’s Song

“Close your eyes, now time for dreams. Death is never what it seems. Did the things you thought you should. All the things they said were good.”

Raven was there when Summer died, and knows the truth nobody else (aside from Salem) has knowledge of. Summer did what she thought was the way to save everyone, but it did not work as she planned.

“All your faith in ancient ways leaves you trapped inside a maze. Take the lives of those you need. Sow the death then reap the seed. Reap the seed!”

This is referencing to both Ozpin and Salem. Raven views Ozpin’s mission to save Remnant as a suicide mission since every huntsmen/huntsmen is essentially being sent to their death. Salem will kill anyone who stands in her way, and shows no mercy to anyone.

“Born an angel, heaven sent. Falls from grave are never elegant.”

Summer had the power of the God of Light (Silver Eyes) and could essentially be viewed as an angel on Remnant. However, as potentially foreshadowed in Volume8, Salem turned Summer into a Grimm monster after her defeat. ‘When she met mom, She realized she could do something new’ -Ruby. Whether Raven witnessed this or assumed Summer’s fate is unclear.

“Stars will drop out of the sky. The moon will sadly watch the roses die.”

This has two meanings 1) The God of Darkness shattered the moon and Salem ‘died’ from meteors. The roses could resemble the previous humans of Remnant who perished. 2) The moon resembles Raven, the roses Summer, and this states how whatever happened to Summer traumatized her.

“In vain. Lost, no gain. But, you’re not taking me!”

The mission failed. Salem lived, and Summer perished. However, Raven clearly did not die that day, and most likely used her semblance to flee before meeting her own end.

“You can’t have my life. I’m not your sacrifice. You can try, but I’m free, and you won’t conquer me. I won’t crawl, most of all, I won’t fall for you!”

Raven ultimately decided to give up on fighting Salem for good, and decided to focus on fighting for the survival of herself and her tribe above everyone and everything else. She refused to be another casualty of Ozpin’s suicide mission, even if it meant having to abandon her own family.

“Show them gods and deities, blind and keep the people on their knees.”

The Branwen Tribe is ruthless, and will hurt as many people as necessary to ensure their own survival. Raven views this as defying the gods, since Ozpin and Salem are essentially their creations raging war on each other.

 “Pierce the sky, escape your fate. The more you try, the more you breed hate.”

Raven believes she is doing this for the greater good. However, her family now despises her, and views her as the enemy.

“And lies. Truth will rise. Revealed by mirrored eyes.”

Raven hid the truth for years, but ultimately Ruby discovered Raven and Summer’s mission while in the Ever After. This will most likely lead to Ruby/Yang/Qrow confronting her later down the line to get answers.

“What if all the plans you made were not worth the price you paid? Even with the lives you stole, still no closer to your goal.”

This is Raven reflecting on everything she has done to survive. Especially after Yang confronted her, she is now starting to doubt whether everything she had done in the end was worth it. She may be alive, but she is not happy, because all those that she cared about either are dead or they hate her.

“You can’t have my life. I’m not your sacrifice. You can try, but I’m free. I won’t crawl, most of all, I won’t fall for you.”

Despite all the doubt she has had in recent time, Raven still has not given up. She will survive where Summer failed to, and stay out of Ozpin’s war. Whether she succeeds in this endeavor in the long-run remains to be seen. She is the Spring Maiden, which puts a target on her back she cannot erase, after all.

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

It was the first rumble of thunder you heard, standing alone in your kitchen, that started eating away at your stomach. It planted a seed, which grew like vines wrapping around your heart. And whatever the feeling was suddenly flooding your entire body like water, you could only describe it as a sudden white pain. 

Oh, Lucky! Here you go again with the gorgeous imagery for something so viscerally sad.

You didn't realize tears had started to stream down your face. As if your body had a mind of its own and proclaimed, the most recent danger had passed, so enough was enough - time to deal with what you've been putting off, it's a good of time as any.

This chapter is going to break my heart isn't it?

If thinking she was still here, still a phone call away, it wouldn't make it real. That you wouldn't have to let Sadie down. That Ridley still could be your armor then.

Oh, Liz! You're not going to let Sadie down. Would Ridley have left her with you if you had the slightest chance of doing so?! 😭😭😭😭

Damn Those Dog Tags he had left behind - they signified the man you loved might also become a memory too. Just like your sister, in everything she had left behind.

You yanked them from your neck with a harsh cry, flinging them hard. They flew across the room, metal shining against another flash of lightning, hitting the wall with a clatter. The metallic sound echoes the hollowness in your heart, and you bowed your head between your legs, hands hugging your legs tight.

😭😭😭😭 What a parallel to Mav throwing Goose's Dog Tags in TG 1986. But Liz! He's not dead! (He cannot be cause if he is then Luckygirl there will be hell to pay)

And yet, still, the angel of death was ruthless.

It had taken Ridley from you. It tried to take Sadie. Jake and Bradley could be next.

What more could it possibly want to take from you?

This is slaying me, Lucky. Literally slaying me. If there is one thing I know from experience, it is that bad things never come in one little burst surrounded by good. Bad things come in a deluge, an avalanche, and you sometimes have to claw yourself out of the snow and cold and pray you'll survive. It hurts my heart to see Liz go through it. She's fictional gosh darn it! She shouldn't have to. But I guess she wouldn’t be relatable if she didn't.

She had been on her way to you, flashlight in hand and scared of the storm, when she heard you scream. It had made her quicken her pace, only to stop when her flashlight caught something shinny in its beam flying across the hallway, hitting the wall in a dull metallic sound.

She widened her eyes. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The one one she had been expecting, yet never came.

She knew what she had to do.

Oh, SADIE! WHY ARE YOU SO SMART AND WISE BEYOND YOUR YEARS, LITTLE BUG? It's time for you to stop being so strong, little one. Let your Aunt shoulder some of that big heart and wise mind, okay?

She knew what they were the second she found them, picking them up and cradling the metal pieces close to her chest. She didn't want to admit she regretted her last words to him, even if he needed to hear them. She regretted them herself, knowing she should have taken her own advice. 

Oh, Sadie! You'll see him again, okay? YOU HAVE TO.

That it was okay to be vulnerable, even now, in front of her. 

Oh my god. I cannot, Lucky. 😭😭😭😭

Ridley used music to help you get through the bad parts. When she would cover your ears to hide shouts in an empty home like everything was okay. She'd tell you music soothes the soul, but as you did to Sadie, you soon discovered it was for the moments where your parents thought swear words were better to express the thoughts and feelings ordinary words couldn't.

No wonder you know how to take care of everyone so well, Liz. You had Ridley showing you how when you were far too young to experience what you have.

Ridley's last words, contained in an ordinary shoebox, as if that's all her life amounted to because an idiotic man with an ego complex proclaimed to love her when he didn't. One man who couldn't care less than the ego he carried around his back gave you one of the greatest loves of your life.

that's all her life amounted to because an idiotic man with an ego complex proclaimed to love her when he didn't. Wait, this is all Liz believes is left of Ridley? Doesn't she see how much of Ridley is in her? In Sadie? One man who couldn't care less than the ego he carried around FUCKING TYLER. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH I WISH HIS BALLS HAD SUDDENLY GONE MISSING. Because as much as I love Sadie, she's fantastic because of Liz and Ridley. Not because of his genetic donation.

(My darling Lizzie) - To him.

They read...

And...

(My Sadie Bug) - To your Uncle

"You'd absolutely hate him," you laughed, playing with the rubber casing around one of them, Jake's name always in sight. "He's.. He's so stubborn. Arrogant. Cocky. You would go so far as to say he is a downright asshole who doesn't deserve me."

NOOO LETTERS FOR JAKE?! Tell me why this was when I actually started crying please? This broke my heart for real. Ridley knows Liz so well. And we see it both in her final letter and right here.

I can't comment reblog Ridley's last letter to Liz because I would be copying and pasting every single bit of it. Ridley is such a warm hearted, hoenst, loving soul. It slays me that the whole reason why this story happened is because she's gone. How did you make me fall in love with a character I've never actually met except through Liz's perception of her?

Climbing back into your bed, you faced the camera, undoing the small strings on your robe, letting the sides fall just enough to reveal the inside curves of your breasts and the top half of your stomach. And there, right in the middle, Jake's dog tags hanging between.

She's telling Ridley about Jake and Lucky?! My heart can't take this.

It felt awkward, forbidden even, to lean back so exposed, so open. With the old-fashioned lens sitting on your dresser, the dial clicking down as you positioned yourself on your mattress, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

A boudoir photo for Jake?! I love it. God I hope he's safe, Lucky. More so than Liz is. Because she and Sadie both deserve to be happy.

They're on the mend. Liz grieved and god I don't think I'm ever going to recover from how good this chapter is. Lucky, you've blown me away. I'm smiling and laughing and crying all at once. Please let Jake and Bradley be okay? Please?

"Hey, Bug! I'm sending Uncle Jake a letter. Got any polaroids you want to send?!"

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget

📜So... remember when I said things were getting better with the sad parts? I lied... Oh boy, did I ever lie... 😬

Fair warning: this one is grief-heavy... but it's been a long time coming for Liz.

(I also want to say, next to Sapling, this is the other song I hope you listen to. These last two parts have been at the centre of why this story means so much to me. I hope you do 💛)

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child character, Emotional & Protective Sadie (She needs her own warning), Liz finally caves, conversations about grief, Sadie caves too, and strikes again, Crying, Angst, Thunderstorms, Smutty themes (with a Camera 👀), and Just in Case letters.

#6.6k words

Part 18 | Masterlist | Part 20

They say grief comes in five stages.

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Ridley always talked to you about it. All the vicarious trauma sessions she had to attend as a nurse. 'It's just something you have to deal with when you are a nurse. Or even in life," she'd say.

The thing about these stages is that everyone assumed they were something you would experience in order, each stage just as intense as the last. Or that you would feel all of them. It was just a matter of time.

You always thought it was a bald-faced lie.

You didn't know what was worse, the fact you spent the better half of an almost year shoving that grief down into the deepest parts of your soul or that it only took one week after Jake left and a freaking thunderstorm, to finally make you surrender.

It was the first rumble of thunder you heard, standing alone in your kitchen, that started eating away at your stomach. It planted a seed, which grew like vines wrapping around your heart. And whatever the feeling was suddenly flooding your entire body like water, you could only describe it as a sudden white pain.

You tried to bury it again, grabbing another plate leftover from dinner and letting water run over it as you shuttered out another breath. But the next rumble of thunder was accompanied by pelting rain on your windows, and you let the plate slip from your fingers under the water, only to grip the edges of your sink hard.

The white pain you felt only a few seconds earlier had intensified. A sharp inhale, and your chest tightened.

Not now. Why now.

You didn't realize tears had started to stream down your face. As if your body had a mind of its own and proclaimed the most recent danger had passed, so enough was enough - time to deal with what you've been putting off; it's as good of a time as any.

The flash of lightning should have been your warning for what was to follow. Because the second the bolt of lightning disappeared outside your window, the power flickered, and the entire house plunged into darkness.

It was the permission your body needed for your knees to give out. For you to crumple to the floor hard. You wanted to cry at the impact, yet only an aching sob escaped your lips; you curling your fingers into the groves along the tile of your kitchen floor, pulling yourself closer and closer to the handle of your fridge. You grabbed it, using what strength you had to pull yourself up to sit against the cool metal.

You had sung as a blue healer for feelings of deep blue when Sadie was in the hospital, Jake assuring you there was no deadline, no time frame of when you could finally accept she was gone. But the problem was, you didn't want to accept she was. Because wishing, thinking she was still there, was holding on to some semblance of her memory.

If thinking she was still here, still a phone call away, it wouldn't make it real. That you wouldn't have to let Sadie down. That Ridley still could be your armour, then.

You wanted her here. You wanted her to talk to you, to hug you and let you know things would be alright. That Jake and Bradley, would come home, despite everything they had to do in order to keep the world safe.

But she wasn't here. And then Jake apologized. Not with flowers but with something corporeal. Something real. And they had remained on your neck since he had placed them there.

They were a saving grace for the first few days, for you could grab them whenever things got too hard to handle. Yet, now, as you went for them hanging around your neck, buried under your shirt, the chain and tags were a suppressing weight, even a vice, tightening around your neck.

Damn Those Dog Tags he had left behind - they signified that the man you loved might also become a memory too. Just like your sister in everything she had left behind.

You yanked them from your neck with a harsh cry, flinging them hard. They flew across the room, metal shining against another flash of lightning, hitting the wall with a clatter. The metallic sound echoes the hollowness in your heart, and you bowed your head between your legs, hands hugging your legs tight.

Anger.

It had only shown itself once before. Yet, yelling at George and being crass towards Jake, you knew it wouldn't solve anything, except for the fact something deep inside was waiting for the chance it could pounce on the next best thing. It wasn't what you were truly angry at.

Because you had spent the better part of now and between then repressing what you didn't want to face. Ridley's absence was something you couldn't focus on; Sadie needed the strength to believe everything would be okay.

Ridley had done the same for you. When you had left, when you had run away from home. The days and months you spent shoving every dark thought or memory of her... you should have been called them for what it was.

You were angry at yourself. And Depression and Denial went hand in hand.

And yet, still, the angel of death was ruthless.

It had taken Ridley from you. It tried to take Sadie. Jake and Bradley could be next.

What more could it possibly want to take from you?

Sadie poked her head out from behind the wall to the hallway, finding you huddled up against the fridge in the kitchen, your head in your hands. She watched from her hiding place how your body shook with each sob, how you tried to make your body smaller than it was.

She had been on her way to you, flashlight in hand and scared of the storm when she heard you scream. It had made her quicken her pace, only to stop when her flashlight caught something shiny in its beam flying across the hallway, hitting the wall in a dull metallic sound.

She widened her eyes. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The one she had been expecting, yet never came.

She knew what she had to do.

Turning on her heel, she made her way into your bedroom, immediately going for your closet. She tore the door open, a flash of lightning illuminating the room from the window behind her. She shuttered, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

Everything was screaming at her that something was staring at her from your bedroom window, the trees casting dark shadows onto your wall as they swayed in the wind and rain.

She closed her eyes, allowing a fresh wave of tears to fall down her cheeks.

She knew she had to preserve. Dropping her flashlight to the ground as she kneeled, Sadie flung your sweaters and cardigans over her shoulder before finally finding the box she wanted, shoved into the bottom corner. She picked it up, not bothering to close your closet door shut as she placed the flashlight on top and rushed out into the hallway. She stopped momentarily to find the object you had thrown across the room.

She knew what they were the second she found them, picking them up and cradling the metal pieces close to her chest. She didn't want to admit she regretted her last words to him, even if he needed to hear them. She regretted them herself, knowing she should have taken her own advice.

She approached you quietly, you not lifting your head once. She kneeled in front of you, placing the box behind her so you wouldn't see it immediately. Biting her lip, she wiped at either side of her face before placing her hand upon your knee.

"You caved."

Your eyes shot up, Sadie's face littered with silent tears. She had been crying, too. And outstretched in her hand, Jake's dog tags in the palm of her small hand, ball chain wrapped around her tiny fingers.

You swallowed, finally croaking out, "I should have when I brought you home."

She let them drop by the chain, grabbing it with both hands to place them back around your neck, biting her lip harder in concentration. There was only one place these belonged.

"We made a promise, Aunt Liz. We just forgot to see it through."

You sobbed at her words, hugging yourself tight when she leaned back, your nails biting into your skin through your shirt.

You were the furthest thing from perfect, the words so perfectly said first by Jake standing on your front porch. Yet, you wondered if you were letting her down by allowing yourself to voice the words you'd never wanted her to hear.

"I miss her, Bug," you cried out, wiping your cheek. "I miss her so much."

Every instance of trying to gather your resolve not to break in front of Sadie fails you. Not the pain of your fingernails gripping your forearm or shielding your face with the sides of your hair, knowing it was a miserable, shameful last attempt to hide yourself from her.

Each gasping breath you pull from your chest is accompanied by a sob and another wave of fresh tears. Yet, Sadie tucks those strains of hair behind your ears and wipes your face with her tiny thumbs, titling your head up so she can surge forward and burying herself in your neck, hoping her hug showed how much she loved you. How much she appreciated you letting her know you weren't okay and that you were no longer afraid of hiding it.

That it was okay to be vulnerable, even now, in front of her.

When Sadie finally let you go, leaning back to sit down between your legs, she stretched her hand behind her to grab something. The red tape was a giveaway, and you pressed Jake's tags to your forehead in protest for the things you didn't want to discover in the shoebox.

You knew exactly what was in there. You couldn't stand looking at pictures of her, talking about her, or looking at the things that reminded you of her. Books were meant to be read cover to cover, but you couldn't finish fucking Pride and Prejudice for the life of you, stuck forever reading the last page twice.

And as if Ridley naming you after her favourite character in her favourite book would somehow empower you. Elizabeth Bennett got through all that life had to offer - so would you. You didn't even realize, at some point after you started seeing Jake, you had stopped listening to music, too.

Ridley used music to help you get through the bad parts. When she would cover your ears to hide shouts in an empty home like everything was okay. She'd tell you music soothes the soul, but as you did to Sadie, you soon discovered it was for the moments where your parents thought swear words were better to express the thoughts and feelings ordinary words couldn't.

In the aftermath, she'd tell you late at night, huddled in your bed, to look out the window and fixate on the brightest star. To wish upon it and ask for a time when music wasn't needed to fill what silence should. But each time she asked you to, she'd say people also wish upon that star too, and it was doing what it could, but so many other people needed its help along with you.

The two of you needed to help it where you could.

Bad parts had to be a part of your story, too.

Then she was gone.

It's why you hid the box in your closet for so long, shoved up on the top shelf, never to see the light of day.

You were there for some of it when Ridley came up with the idea. She was a brilliant mom but also the type to prepare for anything and everything. The night Sadie turned five, she found the damn thing and spent hours stretching that stupid red tape across the beaten material, hoping it would be enough to withstand time.

You just never knew what she had added to it over time.

Sadie was asking, forcing you to confront what you couldn't do yourself. Because in that shoebox, labelled across the top...

Everything I never want you to forget

"We need to open it, Aunt Liz," she said softly with a sniffle, looking down at the box between her hands.

You didn't want to.

Sliding her knees out from under her, Sadie sat on the floor, still holding onto the shoebox. She turned her back to face you, wiggling herself in between your open legs to sit up against your front, pinning you against the fridge. She placed the box in her lap, tilting her head back against your shoulder to peer at your face.

"I'm not getting up until we go through this box."

"Sadie.."

"Mum would want me to do this with you."

Which roughly translated to, because you won't do it otherwise. Not unless I make you.

Ridley's last words, contained in an ordinary shoebox, as if that's all her life amounted to because an idiotic man with an ego complex proclaimed to love her when he didn't. One man who couldn't care less than the ego he carried around his back gave you one of the greatest loves of your life.

And the only regret.

Bargaining.

Then again, Sadie ever would have come to live with you. The Daggers might not have been your friends. Jake would have never been invited to a Saturday night. You would never have fallen in love with him.

Those were the what-ifs you had to contend with. Maybe you silently did believe in regrets after all.

Sadie grabbed your wrist, wrapping your arm around her stomach so you'd hold her. She grabbed your other, placing your hand down upon the top of the box. You let your fingers rest on the lid, drawing out a shakey breath.

Once Sadie was sure you weren't going to lift your hand off the box, she let it go, moving to grab the other side of it. She took a deep breath, squeezing your wrist once before tucking her fingers under the lid to open it. You'd be lying if you didn't say you held her a little closer as you caught the lid, as its contents came into view.

You didn't know where to look first; you hand in no rush to move from where you had left it on the floor. There were a lot of polaroids, knick-knacks from adventures, and jean jacket patches you had never seen before. There was even a Bowie CD, and despite your weariness, you can't find the will to stop the corners of your mouth from curling upwards.

Sadie, however, picked up the first item she set her eyes on.

"What's this from?" She asked, holding up a key. You placed your hand behind hers, using your thumb to stroke the metal base.

"Ah," you sniffed. "That was the key to our first apartment. Remember how we told you your mom and I ran away from home?"

Sadie nodded, still looking down at the piece of metal. "You guys weren't safe."

"No," you replied, shaking your head. "We weren't. Your mom had been saving up money, and I was trying to save up for school. And we had some money saved from your grandmother. It was a tiny place, but that was the first time we finally felt like we could breathe. She went to nursing school soon after that."

You failed to mention you put your dreams on hold so your sister could have hers, especially after what she did to get the two of you out of there. You would do it all over again if you could.

Sadie carefully placed the key back into the box, unphased by the crack of thunder over the house, deciding to grab at the handful of Polaroids next, scattering them in her lap.

While she started looking through the pictures, you fixed your eyes on the white envelopes shoved tight in the back of the box, their colour the only thing standing out with the next flash of lightning. You knew they were letters, with different things written across the front. You reached for them, hands fumbling with the thickness as you took in the names and titles written across each one.

Two caught your attention, making you whimper as the realization of their significance came twofold.

They read...

(My darling Lizzie) - To him.

And...

(My Sadie Bug) - To your Uncle

You slid them under your leg, knowing that there might be a day when Jake would sit down in private, with or without you or Sadie, to read the words and introduction your sister wrote him if he so chose.

If he made it back, the thought forbidden in your head.

There was also another pair - one for you and one for Sadie.

Hers had been first when you picked them up, and she reached out with her hand, dropping the photo she had been holding in her lap when she noticed the writing. Her small fingers trailed over the words "My Bug" written across the front. You pressed a kiss to the back of her head, letting her take it from you.

"If you want to read it alone or with me, that's up to you."

Sadie didn't do anything else but nod, pulling the thick piece of paper close to her chest and dropping her chin to hug it tight.

The power had long since returned after the storm had passed, but neither you nor Sadie could pick yourselves up off the kitchen floor. Not until the last photo, item, object, or memory Ridley had left in that shoe box had been touched. Not until Sadie asked all her questions about what each meant or where some of the photographs had been taken... till you explained memories associated with them.

Even then, when Sadie returned the last Polaroid and placed the lid back on top, she remained curled up in your arms, head against your chest, with her fingers caught in the ball chain of Jake's dog tags around your neck.

You had finally opened the box. Went through its contents. And yet...

"I don't know what we should do now," you told her, rubbing at your face, your head throbbing.

Sadie shifted slightly in your hold, hands holding one of Jake's tags.

"Maybe we could watch a movie?" she suggested quietly. The next words out of your mouth surprised you slightly.

"Maybe Pride and Prejudice... if that is okay?"

---

You had no idea where the sudden urge to go on this trip came from. But waking up with Sadie in your arms on the couch the morning after the two of you went through Ridley's box, you couldn't fight it.

Nat was more than ready the second you called her up, asking if she wanted to accompany you and Sadie on a road trip for the long weekend. She originally thought it was a girl's weekend, which you wouldn't have minded had it not been for your destination.

"I'll pack my bag," she said, no questions asked.

Sadie and Nat were still asleep when you left the hotel room, leaving a note on your bed you'd be back soon. It was still dark out, the sun just barely on the cusp of threatening to show itself when you climbed into your car and drove off.

Sadie had made you promise the both of you would visit Ridley. It was the whole purpose of your trip. Bring flowers, say hi, and so Sadie and you could tell her how much you both loved her. You were going too - there was no question.

But you needed to do this for yourself first.

You pulled off the main road onto the familiar dirt one, driving down the path until you reached the makeshift parking lot, all stone and roughed-up dirt. You were completely alone, save for two cars parked on either end.

You still had ways to go to reach your destination.

Before climbing out of your car, you reached into the back seat and pulled out Ridley's Jean Jacket. You put it on, bundling the lapels tight together across your chest in some blind attempt to shield yourself from the morning chill before you start your hike.

She preferred it this way, anyway.

You spent a good twenty minutes walking over muddy patches and rocky terrain, battling rogue tree roots in the lack of sunlight. There was another route you could have taken, perhaps the easier one, but you had trekked this trail with Ridley so many times before. It was only fair you kept up the tradition.

But then the trees began to thin out, the sound of chirping birds grew louder, and you could smell just a hint of wildflowers with each intake of breath.

You emerged from the woods, looking up from the ground to take in the sight before you. The meadow had remained untouched since you were here last. The grass was overgrown, each dew-kissed blade a product of the low-hanging mist just above the ground. There were flowers in full bloom, and even this early in the morning, with the morning sky painting shades of purple twilight, you could still make out dragonflies passing by.

And there, right in the middle of it all, the perfectly sculpted piece of grey marble. The only human-made thing that seemed to grace this meadow.

As you stepped forward, the grass caressed your legs and dampened your jeans. The closer you got, the more the engraving stood out, the letters making your heartache.

In loving Memory

Trailing your fingers across the headstone, you wiped away the dust that had gathered there since you buried her here last year. The dew from the early morning fog stained your fingers brown as you did so, but you couldn't care less. She was alone out here, peacefully at rest in this meadow.

You could handle a little dirt on your fingers.

You cleared away the dried leaves and twigs, smoothing the grass down before settling yourself onto the damp earth, your back meeting the hard stone. You listened to the birds, the crickets and the wind, taking in the utter silence before you finally spoke out loud.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, Rids."

You tilted your head back until it came to rest against the stone, closing your eyes. "I miss you. So much. Every day, every moment, every breath. Because it feels like everything I do reminds me I'm living without you."

Now that you were here, the words were coming easy. Easier than any conversation you have ever had in your life.

"I can't even admit I cannot remember the last thing we spoke about over the phone," You sniffed. "I've gone almost a whole year trying to forget you had died, and I cannot remember the last fucking thing I said to you."

With your eyes still closed, you felt the first breath of warmth touch your cheek, and a soft orange appeared behind your eyelids.

"I guess I should start with the most important thing." You said, finally opening your eyes. "The bug is... Better than me."

It was so true. Sadie had done so much better than you could have ever hoped when you brought her home.

"Everyone says she is so wise for her age," you huffed out a sad laugh. "But we would see it differently, wouldn't we? After everything we endured, after everything she has had to endure... she didn't have a choice but to grow up and handle the things being thrown at her."

You brought your knees up to your chest, hugging them tight.

"Oh, I met someone," you laughed sadly, knowing she'd want to know, just like she always did when you called. "He's an aviator. He walked right up to me at the bar and tried to get me into his bed."

Despite your sadness, you managed a small smile at the memory.

"I Bowied him," you chuckled. "The good old wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, you told me to do. I always thought it was a cheesy thing to do when you came up with it, but it's never once failed me. We always loved listening to Suffragette City."

You picked a strain of grass out of the ground, wrapping it between your fingers as you continued.

"The squad told me so much about him before I met him. He was the one responsible for all of Penny's bartenders quitting. I mean, his call sign is Hangman, for god's sake. And Bradley hounded me, thinking I would fall for his trap."

But you did.

You wondered how the two of them were managing wherever they were.

"Then Sadie saw him. Oh god. He helped her with her math homework, and she invited him over, and he brought flowers as an apology. Yellow fucking tulips."

You could almost hear her shout Score for Jake in the back of your mind.

"I gave him a clean slate. Because you always taught me everyone deserves a chance. Because Sadie reminded me of that. And then things just fell into place."

Reaching beneath your shirt, you grasped for the chain, pulling out the dog tags to look at them as you spoke.

"You'd absolutely hate him," you laughed, playing with the rubber casing around one of them, Jake's name always in sight. "He's.. He's so stubborn. Arrogant. Cocky. You would go so far as to say he is a downright asshole who doesn't deserve me."

Jake was all of those things. But he was more, too.

"But he makes me smile, Rids. And Sadie. Oh god, she adores him to no end. I wouldn't have taken a chance on him hadn't it been for her. Our little matchmaker, as if she didn't think I caught on to what she was doing. I think the feeling is mutual, though. He puts her first in so many ways."

You weren't going to utter that asshole's name over her grave by explaining Jake's heroics. This was her peace, and he didn't need to taint it any more than he already had.

"He's a... a Mr. Darcy," you struggled to say, knowing that's exactly what she would have called him.

Reaching into the chest pocket of her jean jacket, you pulled out the envelope with your name on it, bringing it down to hold it in your lap. Both of your hands frame the words written across the front.

Just in case

Your fingers shook as you flipped it over and broke the seal, breath leaving your lips in short bursts. Something possessed you, making you reach in and tug on the pieces of paper folded up inside. Unlike her box, there were no polaroids inside, just the pages with her fancy cursive writing neatly penned to the page.

Once you hesitantly unfolded the pages and read those first words, you couldn't find the will to stop.

Lizzie, you absolute fucking wreck.

How long did it take you to get the courage to read this goddamn letter?

Stop looking so miserable. I swear if I'm looking down on you and you're doing that thing with your face where you're about to cry but won't let yourself, I'll haunt you forever.

That's a lie. I probably already am if I could. If you see sunlight blinding you in the face, say hi. That's probably me.

I know, with 100 percent certainty, it's been a while since I've been gone. How long? I have no idea, but you better not be old and grey, sitting on my grave, finally abandoning your belief about regrets - mostly because this letter wouldn't make one lick of sense.

Besides your inability to grieve properly, I know how hard it's been for you to work up the courage to read this letter. I'm proud of you for taking that leap. You don't need to hear this because there is nothing for you to apologize for, but I forgive you. I know, deep down, the reason you didn't.

It's the thought and facing the reality that you won't see me again, right? Not in this life, maybe not ever, I don't know. And these are supposed to be my 'last words' to you. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. I might have talked a big game about facing your feelings and trying to be calm when trouble comes around, but let's face it: I've been a mother twice over. I think I'm better at hiding the fact that I'm scared, too.

I wish I would have told you that more. I wish I would have let my walls down enough so that you could have helped me too.

But you need to know that as I'm sitting here at my desk, writing this thing, I'm safe in the knowledge that our bug is with the best person I could have ever hoped for as her guardian. And no words could describe just how much that means to me.

Teach her all the good stuff. Not how to mix a cocktail, I swear to god, we don't need Sadie Sass 2.0 in College or University - I doubt you want to live that experience, and I surely didn't. But how you verbally smack every cocky-ass male that tries to take his shot with her, and how you care for everyone, stand up for everyone. Though chances are, we all probably got that particular talent from her, not the other way around. Who knows... You might be reading this, having had one of those cocksure pilots breaking through your brick wall.

... did one of them manage to break through? You better be sitting on my grave telling me all the details. I don't care if I'm dead (I'm morbid... and practical about death, dealt with it).

And even if you haven't, that's okay too. One day, you'll discover someone better than the heroes you read in books, the ones who seem perfect, without a single flaw. They'll be better because this person will have flaws - Love despite, remember?

Also, whoever they are, kick their ass for me a few times for good measure.

I know that right now, you're feeling lost and wondering how you'll ever get through this, how you've managed to get through all this so far.

But you did. You have so far. And you still will.

You have to accept that things do eventually end, despite not wanting them to. And we have to go on without them. A memory is no longer beautiful just because it suddenly has an end.

You need to accept that sometimes you need to cave and break down to break through. You need to heal.

And to understand grief is the price we pay for those we love. I know you're hurting and refusing to acknowledge that you may never hear my voice again or know what I'd have to say or what advice I'd have to give.

The truth is, you do.

You can still hear my words in your head. You always knew what I was going to say before I said it; I doubt death would change any of that. And you still get to see my face. Nobody can take that from you, especially in all the photographs I've left behind.

Please tell me you went through the box. Or Sadie at least made you go through it. Not just grab all the letters. That wasn't the point of me making it.

I want you to remember those memories so you know I am there when you are sad or miss me. And for Sadie, when she feels like she can't remember what I looked like or what was.

Promise me you will add to it. Take photographs with my Polaroid camera and make scrapbooks and memory boxes. Create memories with Sadie so she can look back and say, "I know she would be proud of me too."

And I am. So much so.

You also need to understand you're not alone.

You have a found family in those stupid pilots you call friends (They're not stupid; they're just a group of idiots). They can help you. Please let them. Please let them in, whether it's helping Sadie with her homework or spending time together. Let them remind you it's okay to live for yourself, too.

Yes, take care of our Bug; that trumps everything else. And never forget how much I love you. Always.

But, remember, even above all that, everyone deserves a chance.

Even you.

My darling, beautiful sister.

The sob that broke free as you read her final words was gut-wrenching. It was also cathartic, laced with relief and heartbreak.

In your time reading her letter, you failed to notice the meadow come to life around you. The shift had been gradual. With each word you had read, the sun had peaked just that much more over the horizon, changing the sky from a darkened purple hue to a much lighter one, with light orange-red undertones in a mist that just rested above the grass.

You had seen none of it.

Because your knees had been a poor excuse for support, you dropped your forehead down to them and curled inward on yourself. You toppled to your side amongst the short grass, the strands barely fitting in your grasp as your tears fell down your face and into the dirt.

By opening that letter and reading what was meant to be her last words to you, you eventually came to the realization there was no way you could have ever protected yourself from all the painful experiences you've been through.

Maybe this feeling was supposed to be forgiving yourself for the blame you've sheltered for so long. To you, it was something different.

Maybe, just maybe, this was something very close to being acceptance.

---

You felt guilty thinking on the drive home. You had felt better than the last time you drove home from Sacramento. The feeling had lasted, even for days after you dropped Nat back home and tried to go on with your life, trying not to worry about what Jake and Bradley were doing.

Or if you'd ever seen them again. You counted down each day as a blessing and a curse. You knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you decided to befriend the entire squad or when you agreed to date Jake.

It still hurt each time they were called up.

But the grief wasn't as much of a burden now as it was a silent companion. You knew it would always be there when you saw her face in the pictures she left or when Sadie would smile. Or when something new would remind you of her.

You had accepted living with it, dealing with it. And knowing it would eventually come back for something else multiple times later on in your life.

It's probably why this morning you felt slightly different. The sense of relief had not waivered, but you couldn't deny something had shifted. Maybe it was the fact you left the window open last night to listen to a far-off storm, the smell of petrichor filling your room as you woke up in the early hours of the morning.

Or maybe it was the way you stretched amongst your covers, relishing in the coolness of your sheets and the softness of your pillow. Or how you sat up, pausing for a second to watch the specks of dust float through the early morning sunbeams slipping through your curtains. You lifted your hand, inspecting how your fingers cut through the warm rays and cast shadows onto your floor.

You smiled in contentment.

Making your way to your bathroom, the hot water was welcoming as you stepped into your shower. You spent a few minutes there, waking up under the pressure on your skin, before stepping out and drying off, reaching for your silk robe from off the back of the door.

But walking back to your room, you caught your reflection in your mirror from the doorway, suddenly entranced. You found yourself gravitating towards it, slowly stepping forward until you stood right in front of it.

Smoothing down the slides of the fabric of your robe, you played with the lacey hem. Till you reached up to tuck a few wet strands of hair behind your ear, and found your fingers hooking underneath the chain around your neck, sliding down until Jake's tags slid out from their hiding place.

You bit your lip, rocking back and forth while contemplating, when Sadie's Polaroid camera stood out in the background of your reflection. She had placed it in your bag for the trip home, and you had yet to return it to her after you unpacked, leaving it atop your dresser.

You turned slowly, eyeing the camera for a few seconds before walking over to your dresser. You picked it up, holding it in your hands for a few seconds before looking over to your bed and then back to your dresser.

Why you suddenly felt possessed to do this, you had no idea.

Inspecting the dial on the top, you weren't in control as you watched your hand reach out to turn it clockwise, one click at a time. You were surprisingly calm as you placed it back down on your dresser, parallel to your bed, and pressed the button on the other side, starting a quiet, ticking countdown from the tiny camera.

Climbing back into your bed, you faced the camera, undoing the small strings on your robe, letting the sides fall just enough to reveal the inside curves of your breasts and the top half of your stomach. And there, right in the middle, Jake's dog tags hanging between.

It felt awkward, forbidden even, to lean back so exposed, so open. With the old-fashioned lens sitting on your dresser, the dial clicking down as you positioned yourself on your mattress, tilting your head back and closing your eyes.

It was Sadie's Camera, for god's sake.

You heard the shutter go off, the mechanical whirling of the piece of photo paper running through the tiny printer, and fluttering as it landed on your bedroom floor.

You opened your eyes, jolting up like you had been splashed with cold water, shocked you had even done such a thing.

Yet, you still slid out from the covers, eyeing the photo from where it landed, slowly walking over. You carefully picked it up, watching as the image faded into view.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You pressed the printout to your chest, staring up at your open door, wondering if Sadie had woken up yet. With the printout in hand, you practically ran into your office, shutting the door behind you and throwing yourself into your chair. Reaching for your bottom drawer, you pulled out a thick envelope and lined pieces of paper, scrambling for one of the pens on your desk.

You hadn't written a letter since the last time Jake had been on a deployment. Back then, you had struggled to find the words to say to him. You didn't have a problem this time. As soon as black ink hit the page, you couldn't stop writing down every thought and feeling as fast as you could.

When you were finally finished, you threw yourself back into the chair, sighing once before looking down at the pieces of paper. You grabbed them, folding the pieces in half and shoving them into the envelope, sliding the single polaroid behind them. You hadn't sealed it yet, but you did close it, writing along the back, hoping Jake would appreciate and understand the message.

Sadie's bedroom door opening and closing could be heard through the wall, and a smile stretched across your face as an idea popped into your head.

"Hey, Bug! I'm sending Uncle Jake a letter. Got any polaroids you want to send?!"

Tag List:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

-Wickett ;)

Part 20 - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Coming Soon

[ahdriking]

I've been thinking a lot about Porsche post season 1, and it's honestly taken me a really long time to come to terms with what I think the future holds for him (and a potential season 2, my version of it anyway), but I think i've finally figured out that niggling feeling at the back of my mind telling me that this is the calm before the storm.

This isn't Porsche's happy ending. How could it be? The show went to great lengths to demonstrate to us and remind us time and time again that Porsche hates loan sharks and predators, and that's exactly what he's become. And it is what he's become. The show may never give it to us in explicit detail, but we're made aware that the role of the second family is very different to the first family. Their role is the dark, bloody, messy bullshit that the first family can't afford to sully their hands with. It's the racketeering, extortion, drugs, torture, gang wars, murder and violence that is typical of the real mafia world. Porsche, an orphan who spent his entire life under the yoke of loan sharks, is now responsible for operating a bloody and violent criminal empire. And that's supposed to be his happily ever after?

In reality, I don't think Porsche would ever have accepted the role and the ring if Kinn hadn't been the one offering them to him, and even then I don't think Porsche would have accepted the role unless he knew that if he didn't, he would lose Kinn. Because, as much as Kinn loves Porsche, as much as he wants him and would never hurt him willingly again, as much as he would never choose to leave him, Kinn was raised an heir. Kinn was shaped and molded to take up the mantle of his fathers legacy. Kinn bears the full weight of the responsibility for his family on his shoulders, and he has for the majority of his life, a life that has never completely been his own. Kinn cannot walk away from it, he would never be able to live with himself, he wouldn't be himself, and I think Porsche knows that. Kinn may be soft and loving and affectionate in private, but in public, Kinn is cold, calculated and ambitious-- but there can't be one without the other. Both are what makes Kinn who he is.

So Porsche accepts the ring and the role as head of the minor family because he knows that if he doesn't, he's forcing Kinn to choose between his family and Porsche, between his dark side and his lighter side, and I think Porsche, rightfully, is terrified that he doesn't know what Kinn would ultimately choose.

So the choice ends up being Porsche's, and he chooses Kinn. We know this, because he explicitly rejects the idea of belonging to the second family, emphasizing that it's Kinn's side he's on, demonstrating that his position is entirely contingent on Kinn. He makes the sacrifice of becoming everything he once hated, just so Kinn doesn't have to make an impossible choice.

But how long can that last?

How long will Porsche be able to cheat and lie and extort and murder before it starts to really get to him? How long is he going to be able to act like the tough, unaffected mafia boss when he hates everything he now stands for? How long will it be before he starts to resent Kinn for it? How long before he loses himself?

THAT'S what I think would make for a fascinating season 2: Porsche's descent into darkness, his abandoning of himself, for the sake of the man he loves. Porsche trying to reconcile the things he has to do and the man he has to become, all for the sake of Kinn. And Kinn watching Porsche's joy and brightness and goodness slowly flicker, fade and die, knowing that it's for him. Because of him.

I think there's only one way that it all ends: Kinn has to make a choice. Kinn has to choose. Either he becomes the man his father meant for him to be, following in his footsteps and adopting the mantle of ruthless criminal leader, or he rejects his father, and by proxy his family, and chooses Porsche. The longer Kinn waits to make his decision, the more of Porsche he will lose.

[katyspersonal]

Happy (incoming) New Year!

It might look like a rush, but in my timezone, New Year only will arrive in as much as several hours. Like I noticed before, in my culture New Year is THE 'winter holiday to celebrate everything good and give warm wishes', not Christmas x)

Not going to lie though, this year has been a literal Hell for me from almost the very start. It is even sort of... hard to recall just how MUCH I've lost this year. Hopes, plans, peace, dreams, any sort of stability in the future, money, losing connections to being more trouble than I was worth, losing people to cold ruthless clutches of death - family members included, friends vanishing without a notion, health depleting... Past some point I started to feel personally cursed, even with the background of the tragedy of society- humanity, in general. I was cynically wondering - 'And what crucial thing will I lose this month?' as time went by. It felt like a sadistic game by a fate itself, to stripe me from literally everything that makes me a human being that I am, so when my inevitable death comes - it can't even count as a person dying... Only an empty husk resembling former self, that no longer can hope or believe. I cursed the whole world and decided I'll be the last one standing when 2023 arrives, even when everything and everyone around me is gone.

But now?

I realize that it is only some hours away from 2023, and yet, I miraculously didn't lose everything. I still live in this house, I still have my mom and my job. And most importantly... I still have my true friends, and just people dear for me.

All pain I went through this year was worth it, if that meant getting to say - 'I have people that saw me through everything and still stayed with me'. The previous New Year celebration I concluded - 'If you are not friends with someone anymore, it doesn't meant you never were', and now the same moral plays differently. Because, truly, in this awful and chaotic world, you can lose anything, anyone, anytime - only keeping warm memories of it. But in the end, the past can only give you so much. However, memories of TRUE, genuine friends are different. The people you chose to keep around and trust to and allow to influence you end up shaping you. Even after they are gone from your life, what you were shaped into by their presence lingers with you even after, helping you to face new challenges, helping you to be a better friend for new friends, after all! This sort of happiness is unique, even if that life takes away from you too.

So, honestly, guys; if you find TRUE friends that love you unconditionally and stay with you through your worst moments and want to UNDERSTAND you despite your differences and are ready to pay the consequences of their love for you and not target to change or fix you... Fucking HOLD onto them. This sort of true friends you cannot attract with 'good behavior', cannot buy with money, cannot earn with drawing things for them and with always giving your support to them, cannot 'deserve' by being a 'good' person, cannot even win by changing yourself entirely to cater to their tastes. With all your struggle and what you THINK can win you loyalty and true love, genuine friends are always and ultimately the gift of fate - for weak or strong, for good or bad. You do not question why you was gifted it, but you must cherish it. And never, ever, EVER trade them for any of the arbitrary and temporary values this world has to offer. Because nourishing and transforming your soul by the bonds that are WORTH it is what will get you all further.

And as this year ends, I do not have regrets, because I have the bonds that are WORTH it, and on every step I've made a right choice regarding what people to value. I've gained experience, and I do not feel alone - instead I feel like I can truly choose friends wisely now, and am free to explore and develop my true self. Pain is how you grow, and pain is worth it when you have people that are willing to see you overcome it.

(Well... and also this year I created drawings I loved, saw the red moon for the first time and helped people a lot on several occasions - things I will value too.)

Happy new year, and I hope that you guys likewise can say that this year you are stronger than the last one, and that you've made choices you are proud of. Friends or just acquaintances, thank you for making this terrible year worth it in the end: @val-of-the-north @saintmicolash @ako-sirin @heraldofcrow @fantomette22 @scrawnytreedemon @kyrdjava @bimbomcgee @bombur-sexy-bitch @tangerinethecat and... also Arrol that Tumblr doesn't let me tag, Kris and Masha that do not have Tumblr and @cuddlefish-fish and now deactivated @fishbowlcarnage - who just disappeared one day, but are very good memories that were crucial for my fandom experience, and I pray that they are fine and are in better place after leaving the internets, not worse one.

[twstedtales]

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑, 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋.

❝hold your ground; stand up for yourself with grit and grace.❞ - Unknown.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | when he heard you broke from your timid and soft-spoken self just so you could defend him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al asim, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia × female reader.

𝐭𝐰 | none!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | of course, <3 anon chan 😘 nice to meet you and have a good day too 😆 by the way, freaking gosh, this becomes soooo long 2,241 words if you wanna know bdjejwjeeh 😭😂💦 HELP-

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | reposting and queued this in time for my classes because i am determined to put it in tags lfmaooo and I also added few more because I noticed some of Leona’s part was missing and typographical errors are fixed shsbjd

Riddle was always grateful that you were a lot tamer than your chaotic friends that give him constant headaches. He also appreciates your quiet and soft nature because it helps him calm down a lot during his near outbursts when he was about to behead some of his rebellious dorm mates.

So, one random day, Riddle overheard you talking to some students; he presumed they were your classmates? He trusts you a lot, and was about to leave because he didn't want to disrespect your conversation when he heard his name, including the loud series of continuous insults directed to him, repeatedly calling him a ruthless tyrant and such, that had made his elegant brows raise to his hairline. 

A lady such as yourself shouldn't be hearing such crass words from those uneducated fools. His eyes twitched in seething anger, a vein bulging in his forehead and he was about to step in to teach them a lesson they won't forget when Riddle had heard your voice snapping.

It took him by surprise when he heard your usual soft and timid tone raise an octave, your loud yells reverberated greatly across the empty halls. Riddle felt some sort of pleasant shock; he couldn't imagine you, who was usually soft-spoken, to defend him like that. Though that aside, immediate pride and affection swells inside him. 

Riddle always believes that as a gentleman, he should be the one to protect you from fools, or defend you against malicious people like that. But he supposed the position getting reversed once in a while feels...good as well. Now, if you'll excuse him, he still needs to, ah, re-educate those imbeciles, a lesson they won't ever forget.

Leona doesn't care that you're timid most of the time, in fact, it even brought a slight relief to him because firstly, he won't have you loudly reprimanding and nagging him if he doesn't attend classes like Ruggie does, disturbing his naps. And secondly, he secretly finds you a great wonder, knowing that most women in Afterglow Savana were all "warriors" and they intimidate him. 

Though for your own sake, Leona would drop casual hints about arming yourself in an argument here and there for you to catch. He favoured your soft-spoken persona, yes, but that doesn’t mean he would go around letting you be in danger just because of it.

And just when he thought that you were tamed and a well-behaved little lamb, Leona was slightly bewildered to hear your loud shouts that knocked him out of his sleep. He almost thought that you were in danger and would instantly leap in to tear off the person who dared to attack you limb by limb if not for the obvious anger lacing your voice.

Hou? Leona listens curiously in patient silence as you apparently "defend" his reputation. It would be a lie to say that he didn't care what others say about him, but at this point, he had completely given up on how others perceived him, all their opinions be damned. But he had to admit, you saying that he was more than just being an "indolent bastard" makes his heart do a quick lithe leap. Just a little bit.

However, of course, he can't let you hog in all the fun to yourself. If those fools were brave enough to lash out and dish out their problems about him to you, they must be prepared to face the consequences of his payback. Though perhaps he must thank them as well? For encouraging and pushing his timid herbivore to stand up and hold her ground to what she believes to be most important? Heh.

Azul thought that your soft and timid self is quite a refreshing sight; you're like a breath of fresh air for him. Being surrounded by the chaotic twins all the time drains his energy, no matter how efficient they seem to be for business. So, having you around calms him down, and your soft voice was like enticing him to sleep and relax.

That's why when he heard a loud scream outside of the VIP room, Azul had seriously doubted his ears, blinking his eyes in mild shock and refusing to believe that person who had just raised their voice was you. You, his precious angelfish who spoke so softly and tenderly to him all the time, just shouted? 

Azul snapped out of his trance when he had heard your voice again, this time, it was even louder, and he could clearly hear just what makes you this furious. He quietly left the sanctuary of his office just as the argument kept on getting clearer. He had heard his name, how the students called him a "scammer", "manipulator", "evil schemer", "stupid octopus" and such. 

Under normal circumstances, Azul wouldn't feel any remorse when he had tricked them into a contract for servitude as a small payment for what they boastfully spout about him. He was ready to make them pay a hundred folds...if not for you defending him wholeheartedly. You were readily refuting every falseーor were they really false?ーclaims about him; a bit more menacing, a little more proud, and very much seething in anger. 

Adoration bloomed inside him as he almost felt tears start to prickle in the corner of his eyes. He never had someone who would defend him, who would boast how "hardworking" he was, or be angry...just for him. Azul had to steel his knees from buckling over, blinking back his tears and parading his usual, haughty smile. As much as he wants to rejoice and melt for your brave words, he first needs to get you out of there. He can't have his precious angelfish deal with those pests all by yourself, no?

Kalim was understanding, empathetic enough to know not to push you beyond the limits you could give. He was content to see you interacting and hanging out with him, no matter how quiet and timid you may be! Fret not, it doesn't matter one bit if he's the only one speaking and getting the conversation going, as long as he knew you were there and listening to him, that's all that matters to him.

Though seriously speaking, does anyone even have the heart to say malicious things about this sunshine? Though let's admit it, not all people would see Kalim's open generosity in a positive light and some people would even find it rather irritating (ーlike Jamilー). So, things like "bad-mouthing" him does happen, maybe not as much in NRC but he does hear them back in Scalding Sands.

Due to his position of being the heir to a big clan, Kalim was very much exposed to the harsh criticism and perhaps hatred and envy of others, though he does his very best to ignore them, and understand where they are coming from because he knows that not all are as privileged as him. So hearing people say bad things about him in the NRC is nothing new as well. 

What was something new though...is you raising your voice that made him jump, his heart almost made a quick leap out of his throat. Especially when you declared that he was the kindest, the most understanding and the best person you ever met in your life. Kalim didn't even hear the insults because he was more focused on drilling the image of you, looking so gallant like a honourable warrior defending him. 

Before it escalates into something serious though, Kalim would jump in the conversation and sway the topic into a more light-hearted one. You would notice his smile looked a lot brighter than normal, and that his cheerfulness is so contagious that you forgot the person who badmouthed him as Kalim dragged you to somewhere he could spoil you rotten.

Vil doesn't usually mind your timid self; he finds himself surprisingly adoring it at times. Especially after those stressful and chaotic days that all he needs is to have a peaceful respite that he had found in you. Though there were times that he would...ah, help you to become more open and confident when talking to people. Unlike Leona who would just drop hints, Vil was determined to teach you how to arm yourself with words, if not magic or any other weapon. 

Hence why Vil was very much accustomed to harsh criticism and dare say, downright hate. He was an actor and a model after all. He had long prepared himself to accept those healthy criticisms, and block off all the malicious comments thrown at him. So, hearing his own schoolmates lash out their hate against him is nothing to waste his time about. After all, they weren't even brave enough to say that to his own face. 

Even so, what took him in a pleasant astonishment is when he heard your voice, loud and clear and confident, rebutting their foolish claims about him. He didn't even pay enough attention when those potatoes blatantly compared him to Neigeーwhich was, by the way, will be dealt with laterーbecause all he could hear was your voice.

Vil huffed in amusement; you had incorporated everything he had taught you today and he could say that he was pleased with your development. As much as he wanted to see how far you could go and how good it was that you were defending him, Vil cannot allow you to linger longer around those fools who don't know basic etiquette more than necessary. 

Brimming with confidence as he was, Vil swept between smoothly, the long and loose sleeves of his dorm uniform flaunting behind me like a perfect picturesque as he hide you behind his back. He looked down coldly at those potatoes, ignoring your surprise yelp. Now, Vil can't let the improper things they say pass without a proper punishment, no?

Like everyone does, Idia doesn't care if you're timid or soft spoken either. To be honest, it was even encouraged by him. He could get around everything between you two without speaking, especially since he wasn't used to being around people a lot. After all, your quiet voice when you're talking to him doesn't feel like any otherーit was more relaxing, more soothing…

That's why when he heard you shouting so loudly and angrily one day, Idia fell on his chair in shock. He was surveying the surroundings from the CCTVs around the school for possible routes he could take when he went out to buy snacks for the weekend when he caught sight of you in the hallway with some unfamiliar students. It doesn't look like a one-sided argument, but you were definitely more pissed off than the others.

The longer he listens, the more Idia wants to wither awayーfrom embarrassment, or from self-resentment or from pure adoration, he cannot pinpoint exactly what! You...you were defending him! Him! You were seethingly refuting every claim he heard directed to him. Every single negative thing they pointed out that he himself knew of all people possessed, said it was nothing but baseless untruths. 

How could you say that he was not useless when all he could do now was to watch you from afar as you fight for his reputation? How could you still believe he was not a coward after all those things that people said about him and his failures? How could you still love him after all the things you were hearing right now? 

Idia clenched his fists that his nails dug in his palms. He...wants to be like you as well. He wanted to be the man you could depend on, the one who could defend you like those in his otome games he played. If one day...if only he could build up the courage to be...anyway, for now, Idia mysteriously alerted some of the professors that someone was bullying you. He couldn't be there personally, with how he is right now, but he would make sure to protect you in the way that he himself could surely do this time...

The one who insults and badmouth The Malleus Draconia himself was probably tired of living, having a death wish or something. Almost everyone was scared of facing him, but alas, there surely exists those who are...brave enoughーor was it simply foolishness?ーto insult him in the presence of his own beloved. 

Malleus probably didn't hear your "heroic acts" personally, but due to Sebek's garrulous mouthーand he can't simply keep this a secret to his Waka-sama!ーhe was informed how you defend him in front of many people. 

He would ask every detail, how it started and how it escalated to how it ended. Sebek wouldn't leave a single detail, though he supposed he could make you a little more "gallant and chivalrous" to his Young Master because you were the first one to stand up for him, and you are his lover, not his guard!

After hearing the full details from the extremely proud Sebekーand how he had already taught the impudent students a lesson for insulting himーMalleus had found himself teleporting next to you, that made you jump because it was so sudden. And he would hug you so suddenly and wordlessly. When you ask him why, he would just reply that he feels like you had done something so incredible for him that he wants to repay and spoil you in any way you desire.

Malleus does mind the insults, but he was more focused on you and how you stand up and hold your ground despite your soft-spoken self. He wished he could've seen you break out from your shell once again, but he won't force you to it. After all, there's plenty of time to rectify that and he would wait patiently on the day you showed all your sides to him.

[han-shinsuke]

t h e b r e a k f a s t t a b l e

[🔞] k e n t o n a n a m i [‼️]

s m u t • s m u t • s m u t

ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ɴsғᴡ

If only you were at home, listening to sleeping at last and maybe with a cup of hot cocoa in hand, you would really appreciate the heavy pour of rain outside. However, you weren’t. Therefore, you must try to not show uneasiness while he’s around— while it was only you and him inside their manor.

“The generator isn’t working,” he informs you after inspecting the machine in the cellar. Kento turns off the penlight then sat on the chair beside you.

As reported by, the thunderstorm will last for two hours. A hundred and twenty minutes of being alone with your principal sponsor, Kento Nanami. “We will be fine. We have enough candles to get us through this darkness.”

Are you sure of it? Can you keep your calm around him? Especially when he’s that close? You can even smell his natural peachy scent.

“Do you not like me?” your face almost slipped from your palm. Why would he think that?!

“No.” you reply, absentmindedly licking your bottom lip. “You sponsor my studies and allowance and you bought me an apartment. How can I not like you, sir?”

Just to clear things, he is not your sugar daddy. You were not obliged to give something in return, though, you’d be glad if he wants to. Besides, you are not the only one he sponsors. There are twenty in total including you.

“Then why are you so distant?” he leans his back on the backrest, searching immediate answer from your intriguing reaction.

Yes, you were not aware but he finds your manners interesting.

You let out a low and defeated laugh.

“It’s because I like you romantically, sir.” you avow.

“Oh.” his response, “you’re only eighteen.”

“Can I not like you just because I’m young?” you sigh, looking away. Watching the rainwater rolls down the glass wall. “I lost my virginity last month, sir. I heard from your exes that you didn’t fuck virgins.”

What were you thinking, really? Spurting private matters like it’s some kind of gossips.

You heard him coughed. You laugh, “whom do you surrendered your innocence to?” he asks.

“Megumi Fushiguro, sir.”

Why do you have to be so polite? It’s driving him mad. His chair creaks. You eye him in question. He transfers the vase to the most secured spot.

“Quit the talking, baby, let’s fuck.”

Your heart races when he sits you on the tabletop, parting your legs. He creates an opening between your thighs. Everything about this man is thick so the width fuels your desires. He’s standing between your legs, sliding his palms up and down your sides.

You remove his shirt. Tracing his beefy muscles using your fingertips. You gasp when you reached his hard packs. You went lower, inserting a hand pass over his waistband. Kento let out a throaty moan when you palm his bulge inside his pants.

You were doing right, just right to make him close his eyes and gasp for air. You run your tongue in between his chest, hand still busy putting pressure on his other head. Damn. You can feel your own heat juicing.

“Do you want more, sir?” you ask, still licking him, moving far to the left, you poke his nipplexx using your tongue then eventually, started sucking it.

“Fuck, baby~ have you done this before with Megumi?” his breath is shaking though he can still speaks clearly.

From palming his head, your hand proceeds stroking his length, stretching its skin down from the tip. Nanami growls like a beast, you did pretty well with your hand so he grabs your nape and tilts your face up.

“I didn’t, sir. But Megumi had a mouthful feast on his study table. He devoured me like a feral man.”

You retract your hand from his pants. He moans in disappointment. He loves how you work your hand underneath his bottoms.

He didn’t talk after that. Nanami helps you with your clothes, stripping you out from your restrictions. You serve yourself... naked and flushed on his breakfast nook. You were no different from those sluts he fucked before. You crave for him so you do the service.

Nanami disrobes the remaining pieces of his clothes before pulling you on your ankles. He leans down to your face, kissing your chin first. That first kiss gives you butterflies compared to how Megumi taught you the basics of kissing. He may be your first of everything but nothing can compete with this man that makes you feel 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 by just kissing your chin.

Your both hands were pinned on each sides of your head. He examines you from head to toe. Your heat throbs, his tip is poking your abdomen. He’s long and thick. Will it fit? Of course, you're this ready for him. You anchor your legs behind him, pulling him down.

“Put it inside, sir, I’m ready.” you beg with your fluttering eyes. He teases your lips with his, brushing slightly. You whine. Pleading again.

He knows you were so desperate for him so he ended the thirst with a very rough kiss. Sucking both lips like its some kind of delights made for him. He surely enjoys kissing you torridly that it makes you thrash for air when he didn’t let go of your mouth.

That made him laugh. When your breathing return to normal, Nanami claims your lips again, this time, he’s moving slow, so slow that you didn’t notice his mouth has already left yours gaping open. He’s now down on your neck, sucking while a hand is palming your folds. You grope his right ass, earning a grunt from him.

His mouth keeps traveling down, it reached your bare chest. He takes in a bud inside his hot mouth. Sucking it, biting it. You moan. You just keep moaning and at the same time grinding your leaking pearl against his erection.

He pops out your first nipplexx, he does the same to the other. Flicking his tongue against it. Sucking it as well unti it turns red.

He goes down again, another spot—the most vulnerable one is waiting for him. He adjusts himself, groping your titsx hard while pinching its both buds.

“Aahh sir~” what? Did you just moan like a slut? You make him smirk and feel proud of himself. He gropes you again, even harder this time. He hears more of your 𝒂𝒂𝒉𝒉𝒔 and 𝒐𝒐𝒉𝒉𝒔. You satisfy him by just moaning his name and how good he makes you feel. He squeezes your sides, moving down to your thighs. He hit you there. He didn’t stop until he sees stars in your eyes. One star rolls down. Nanami licks his lips, planting soft kisses on your face.

“Ooohhh gosh, sir~” your body jolts when he tugs your clitx before latching his tongue between your folds.

Damn. Nanami eats better.

You grab onto his hair, gripping there. He dives deeper into your cunt, tongue lolling in and out of your still tight core.

“Hmm~ you taste like a real lady hmm~” fine, reaper! You can take her soul now.

Nanami’s 𝒉𝒎𝒎𝒔 sounds so sexy and you push more of your drenched cunt toward his face. He seems to appreciate your little movement so he eats deeper and thumb you harder.

“Sir—sir! Aahh~” surprise! You spill in his mouth and he’s grateful for your milk so he slurps everything and gives your clenching cunt a good run using his tongue.

You were panting when he pushes your legs to your chest, locking those tight with his forearms. He joins you on the tabletop, folding you in half. His hands grips tightly on the edge and pressing his knees firmly on the table with you in between.

Suddenly, you remember what Megumi had told you before that if a guy fold a lady to half, he’s been meaning to breed her.

Now. Now. Now.

You start to panic. He notices it. You receive his unusual smirk. You put your hands on his shoulders, shaking your head.

“S—sir— don’t fuck a baby into me, please.”

Instead of a reply or an assurance that he would not, Nanami claims your lips again, masking the slow and eerie penetration of his cockx into you.

He earns a loud gasp from you when he installed completely his length inside you. It stretches you really wide that a lone sob escapes your lips.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he taunts you, caressing your face. “I’m inside you. Full and deep. You will be fine, trust me.”

Your lips quivers when he start pulling out. You can feel how thick he is and how farther his tip reached inside.

He can feel your shaking so he kisses you again, focusing on your neck.

“H—hold—please sir aahnnn~” your whine is pure and appealing. He cannot wait any longer. It’s just that this is not his way. He loves ramming a pussyxx harder and deeper. He loves being in control.

“Be still, baby. I will move hard now.”

Again, what’s the use of shaking your head no? He slams right there. Just right there when he crashes his mouth on yours to drown your cries.

He’s tight. Hard. And strong that with every thrust and every pull and with every ruthless push, the table that supports the weight of the two people atop it, creaks louder.

He shakes your world and uses your womanhood the way it supposed to be fucked. He didn’t stop. He can’t be stopped. Not this time, not at this moment that he loves how you clench around him and how your cunt responds so sweetly.

“Here comes my seeds, baby~ take it all my pretty baby~” he pounds you so hard at the time his semenx spills inside you, combining with your juice. He pumps you even harder, grunting. While you, all you did is moan his name and that he should not cum inside you but he still did.

He fucks his jizz inside you, watching it leaks from your throbbing cunt.

You end up staring at nothing.

You still feel it dripping from your hole.

Nanami takes you in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. Still in dazed, the both of you dip in the warm water in the tub. You on his lap, legs spread.

“Wha–what are you doing?” you breathe when Nanami slides his hand between your thighs, dipping his fingers between your folds.

He kisses your nape from behind, moving to the side before ending on your shoulder that he licks and bites.

“What else my pretty baby? Finger fucking you hmm~”

Just when he starts rubbing hard circles on your clitx, the rain pours heavily, drowning your moans once again.

You have proven the rumors surrounding his name. Kento Nanami fuck better in the dark.

[adoringhaikyuu]

fighting with the boys 

characters: hinata, kageyama, tanaka, tsukishima, yamaguchi

summary: how the boys would react during + after a fight with you

notes: you can request more characters if you’d like! this is my first hq writing :) tagging some blogs that inspired me to start: @kageyuji​ @seita​ @katsushimaa​ @sugawaraxo​ @shoyokuns​ @keishinslove​ @pokk1pok​ @oreosmama​ 

hinata

i literally cannot even imagine why you would get into a fight with this pure boi

but he would 100% take the blame

it would most likely be a misunderstanding or you two are joking around and he takes it too far and he’s laughing until he notices that you’re unusually quiet

so he opens his eyes and looks at you, wide-eyed, analyzing you, getting more and more concerned

“what––what’s wrong?”

and you’d just give him the silent treatment and he’d only get more worried

“y/n?...”

and he just steps closer to you and tries to catch your eye but you look down, averting your gaze every time he almost catches you

and you can’t help but drag this out a little bit because it’s a little amusing (you’ll make it up to him afterwards)

but with the way he’s literally running around you as if he’s on the court, trying to get a good look at you and figure out what’s going on, you can’t stop yourself from laughing

and he realizes you’re just teasing him and just gasps before tackling you in a hug

he tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder and your neck, burying his cheeks into your soft skin. his arms were holding you tight, pressing you into him as he swayed you side to side. “don’t do that to me, y/n. you really had me scared!” 

you laugh, your hands coming up to play with his hair the way he likes and he sighs. “i’m sorry baby you just looked really cute all worried like that. i couldn’t help but tease you.”

at that, he pulls away slightly to look at you, his eyes wide and innocent, and oh so cute. you see his eyes flicker from yours to your lips quickly. “okay then you’re forgiven.” 

you smile and he reciprocates it, his eyes focused on your lips, almost like he’s in a trance. “can i have a kiss now? really wanna kiss you.”

and how can you say no to that?

kageyama

this absolute buffoon would most definitely say something he didn’t mean to you in the spur of the moment

he’s been overworking himself of course, focusing on volleyball a little too much and he doesn’t even realize how frustrated he is

but you’re talking to him and the more and more and you speak, the more concentrated he is on his moves, he’s literally playing things out in his head, not even listening to you

just as he figures something out, you get his attention again, only annoying him further

he snaps and says something rude and you stand there in disbelief for a moment before storming off

you know he didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting

and this boy would freeze up and just watch you go

because he has no idea what to do

and part of him feels really bad but he knows that he just pissed you off so you probably want nothing to do with him

but after a while he goes after you

it didn’t take long for kageyama to find you. he knew you better than you knew yourself, after all. you were sitting under your favorite tree outside the gym, picking at the grass mindlessly. you noticed when he came and stood in front of you, but you didn’t dare to look up.

he sighed after a moment and sat down next you. he waits for a moment before handing you your favorite drink. his eyes were practically piercing your face as he analyzed you, trying to gage your response. you looked up at his hand after a few seconds, biting your lip before deciding to take the drink. it was your favorite after all. 

he physically deflates for a second in relief once you take the drink from him but then sits up properly again, taking a sip from his milk as he gathers the courage to say something. he places the carton down next to him and scoots a little closer to you. “i––i’m sorry y/n. i––it was rude of me to act like that. i didn’t realize how frustrated i was and i just...i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

you pause for a moment, swallowing before setting your drink aside and looking up at him hesitantly. his blue eyes are watching you like a hawk but you can tell that he’s genuinely sorry, not only because of his apology but because of the way he’s looking at you, like he’s afraid to do something wrong again.

you give him a small smile and reach for his hand which he eagerly gives to you, gaze still stuck on you. “you’re right, you shouldn’t have. but i forgive you tobio. but we need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay? i don’t like seeing you so stressed.”

he just nods after every word, anxious to make things right, to not disappoint you. “of course. anything.”

you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him softly and you can tell as your lips connect and move in synchronization that you’re both so grateful for each other and glad that you’ve settled this fight.

tanaka

so tanaka absolutely adores you

like he’d do anything for you

but sometimes he just didn’t do his best at his games, 

he felt like everything was going wrong and he couldn’t help but let the frustrations get to him

so instead of being his cuddly and affectionate self with you like he normally is after games, he’s agitated and visibly frustrated

you can practically see the tension around his body

this leads to him shouting unintentionally and the two of you getting into a very unnecessary fight

there’s a lot of random childish things being yelled between the two of you, your voices loud and overlapping until you both just pause and the silence is overwhelmingly loud

he’s basically panting, looking at you with a fierce look in his eyes 

and soon you scoff in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the situation and turn around to try and leave, deciding you both need to cool off 

and that’s when he snaps out of it

you really think he’s going to let you get away? absolutely not

he needs to make up for it immediately

you gasped as tanaka grabbed your arm and yanked you back to face him. before you could protest, he pulled you into his embrace, making you huff. yeah, he felt warm (and a little sweaty) but you were still upset. 

your face was smushed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, his limbs tightening like a vice. his cheek was pressed against your head, almost as if he were stuck to you. 

“baby i’m so sorry!” ever so dramatic, he starts yelling as if he’s proclaiming his love to you. “i was just so frustrated but i never meant to take it out on you babygirl, i didn’t mean it! please forgive me!” 

slowly, your arms go up and hold him back and you could feel and hear him release a breath of relief. “alright, you idiot. i forgive you.” 

“thank you darling.” he mumbles against you, still not letting you go, even holding you tighter. “can we go cuddle now?” 

tsukki

tsukishima can be very ruthless and very blunt

even with you, unfortunately

and while sometimes you love that about him, especially when he tells people off (it’s kinda hot, okay.)

sometimes you really hate it 

he’d say something really out of pocket

but the thing is, he doesn’t even realize, he just thinks he’s being honest

(which doesn’t help his case, but––)

you’d just pause and look at him, letting out a small whisper of his name

and he’s not even looking at you, so he doesn’t realize you’re upset

he just shrugs, a smirk on his face

“what? it’s true.” 

and when you don’t reply with a snarky comeback (like he loves), he looks up at you and his brows furrow when he notices your eyes watering

you just close your mouth and sit there, eyes focused on the floor in front of you as you cross your arms, too hurt to even move

and he pauses as well, in shock because it was absolutely not his intention to make you feel bad

but he soon clears his throat and apologizes

“i––i’m sorry y/n.” he’d step closer to you and when you don’t move away, he closes the distance, looking down at you in concern. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i was just––joking around.” 

you’d still be looking down, swallowing harshly when he places a gentle large hand on your cheek, wiping your tears and lifting your head up softly. “look at me please?” 

you look up and bite your lip nervously, feeling exposed. he debates with himself for a bit and you can physically see him contemplating in his head. about what? you have no idea. but then it all clicks when he leans down and plants a lingering kiss on your forehead. you know he’s not an affectionate person easily, especially when there’s tension between the two of you so it brings a small smile to your face. 

you look into his eyes and you can see the concern and the love for you in them. “i truly am sorry.”

you smile up at him before pulling him in for a hug. he wraps his arms around you immediately and all the tension leaves his body. “it’s okay tsukki.” 

he holds you tight and leaves a kiss on your forehead again. “love you pretty girl.”

yamaguchi

so let’s say this were to happen while he was trying to learn how to perfect the jump float serve

he would be spending so much time focusing on perfecting his technique, that he lost track of time

which unfortunately meant that he forgot that he promised to have a movie night with you while your parents were out of town for the weekend

now when tadashi trains, he takes it very seriously, not stopping until his limbs hurt and until he’s too tired to move

which means that he also did not check his phone

so when he finally finished after hours of practice and checked his phone, seeing all the messages from you, his heart sank

his eyes widened and his breath hitched 

he could feel the tears rising up, blurring his vision

he felt terrible

he knew he absolutely had to make it up to you

he stopped by the store and picked up all of your favorite snacks and then by your favorite takeout place and made his way over to your place

now you knew he most likely didn’t mean to skip your date, he would never do that to you, he was too sweet

but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he didn’t show up after hours of you waiting for him

so when you saw his frantic messages of him apologizing and explaining everything, you weren’t too surprised, but still a little sad

when he rang the doorbell about forty-five minutes later, you let him in and stepped aside, your eyes not looking up at him

he pouted but thanked you and stepped inside 

it was then that you noticed the things in his hands

“princess i’m so sorry.” his voice was trembling and when you looked up, you could see the redness in his eyes, the flush in his cheeks. he was really worked up over this. “i lost track of time and i––i hadn’t checked my phone because i was practicing i didn’t mean to ditch you––”

you stepped closer to him and took the things out of his hands, placing them on the counter before putting your hands on his cheeks and looking into his eyes. his eyes were wide as he looked at you, an undeniably guilty look in them. 

“it’s okay tadashi. i knew you didn’t mean to.” you gave him a kiss to stop his rambling and he sighed, almost as if he felt he didn’t deserve it, but you deepened it, pulling him closer. you pulled away and looked up at him pointedly. “i forgive you, okay?” you look over to the bags he brought. “plus how can i not when you spoil me like this?”

his cheeks get even more pink as he laughs nervously. “it’s only what you deserve.”

[apinchofm]

Co-Parenting

or the reason Baldwin sued for full custody.

"Miyako," Miriam said, placing her in her lap, "We just want to help. If you tell us, then we could help.'

The seven year old had been uncharacteristically upset when dropped off at Baldwin's. She would be a little upset, missing her mother. But it had been three days and a call from a teacher, asking if everything was okay.

"Mummy's friend was mean to me." Miyako admitted, "I don't like him."

Baldwin frowned. Eva's friends and suitors were usually overly nice to Miyako, considering they were tryign to impress her mother and remembered who her father was.

They were two people, married or divorced, you didn't mess with.

"Did you tell mama?" Baldwin asked.

"She said he didn't like children very much, but he would be nice, but he did his grumpy face and called me silly but in a mean way." Miyako pointed.

Baldwin's eyes narrowed, "What his name? Just so I can make sure he's nice."

"It's a wierd name. Like a gerbil." The child then gasped," Can I have a gerbil?"

"Gerbert?" Miriam asked, confused. She nodded and Miriam's eyes widened as Baldwin's narrowed further.

"Yes," Miyako confirmed.

"Are you fucking-" Baldwin seethed and marched to his office. Miriam and Miyako watched him do this.

"That's in the swear jar." Miriam sighed, "Okay, start on your drawing. I'll go check on papa. And use my headphones, there may be yelling."

Miriam went to Baldwin's office, where he was pulling file and file from one of his shelves, whilst ranting to himself. Mirima shut the office

"Baldwin."

"She could have anyone. But no, the one fucker-!"

"Baldwin-"

"And then he's rude to our child. And she lets him-!"

"Baldwin!" Miriam yells, catching his attention. He stops and takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry." He said.

"I think the weirder thing is the age gap." Miriam tried to joke.

"Everyone knows the rumours, about what he did to Juliette. Eva knows, her mother was spreading them." Baldwin ranted, "What the fuck is she doing, having the one man, going with the one family mine and especially I cannot stand!"

"Okay, but you cannot give in to this." Miriam reasoned.

"It's being done to provoke me. I don't care who she dates, even if is that snivelling catholic cunt," Baldwin said, "But he hurt my child's feelings."

"This way they both win - you'll look like the ruthless arse who takes his daughter away and he gets to embarrass you." Miriam pointed out.

Baldwin looks up at her, "Perhaps I will be. For Miyako's sake." He turned to his wall safe, one of many and took out a file. Mirima recognised the family isigna on the leather cover.

"Philippe? You can't." Involving Philippe was the nuclear option.

When Baldwin and Eva divorced, they did so in the most amicable way possible - shared custody, Miyako schooled in England as her mother travelled too much.

Philippe wasn't happy. He had thought Baldwin had been too soft. Miyako was a de Clermont. He and Baldwin had a plan, the most ruthless option. It gained the de Clermonts full custody and revealed damaging information about Eva's own family.

Let's just say, they weren't exactly resisting the political changes of 1930s Germany.

But Baldwin refused. He had done too much fighting during the last days of his marriage, he didn't want Miyako used in it.

"Think about Miyako. You don't want her to resent her mother." Miriam said, "Or you. Negoiate."

.....

"Miriam."

Eva was surprised to see Matthew's friend at Baldwin's house, answering the door.

"Eva. Hi." She opened the door to let her in, "Baldwin is in his office."

"So he called in reinforcements. Is Matthew here too?" Eva asked with interest, "Hugh?"

"Just me and Hamish." Miriam replied, "But I'm here because it's my day off," She walked down the corridor into the living room. Eva knew the way to Baldwin's office by heart, and was surprised to see Hamish, the family lawyer there.

"What is this?" Eva demanded.

" you and Gerbert."

"You and Miriam." Eva replied, "Tell me, are you doing it to fuck with Matthew?"

"No." Baldwin replied shortly, "Why?"

"She's with my child," Eva said, "I deserved to know."

"And yet, you strike up a relationship with Gerbert d'Aurilliac." Baldwin retorted.

"Gerbert cares for me." Eva protested "And yes, he's difficult with children..."

"Juliette?" Baldwin asked, "How does she feel about this?"

"A resentful brat married to another resentful brat," Eva observed and Baldwin nodded in agreement with the assessment of Domenico at least.

Hamish opened his briefcase and placed it on the desk, pulling out two contracts for them to sign, "We want this as painless as possible." Hamish said.

"What's this?"

"Our original divorce agreement, that my father drew up. But I amended it." Baldwin said.

Eva's face fell. She knew anything drawn up by Philippe de Clermont contained damaging information.

"Well, there was a part of me that very much wanted to watch you squirm." Baldwin said, "A large part of me. But Miriam reminded me that I don't want our daughter to despise you as much as we despise each other."

"What are the terms?" Eva asked, slightly less braver than she had been up to this point.

"Sole custody. Miyako lives here full time." Baldwin demanded, "You can have 3/4 of school holidays, but she does Christmas at Sept-Tours, New Years in Berlin with you. We will always notify each other of the usual health appointments, emergencies, etc."

"Because of Gerbert?" Eva asked.

"Miyako needs stability." Baldwin insisted, "Can you honestly say with you job and with Gerbert we can provide that?"

"We always listen to Mimi." Eva agreed, "I suppose we got so caught up in winning."

"We forget what's important." Baldwin finished.

"She calls this home." Eva admitted, swallowing, "It's funny, isn't it?"

"She loves you just as much. You're the one that fought for her." Baldwin pointed out, "Adopting isn't easy, even when rich. Remember when we fought in front of the social worker?"

Eva smiled slightly and she picked out a pen from her handbag.

"I do miss your ruthless streak." Eva observed as she signed, "You get this glint in your eye when you know you've won. It was was arousing."

......

The three emerged from the office, a decision made.

"Hello mama," Miyako greeted when she saw her. She was in Miriam's arms, "Do I have to go now?"

"No, schatzi. You are staying here. In London. All the time with papa," Eva said.

"Really?" Miyako asked, looking at her dad who gave her a small smile.

"I was thinking, for Easter, we'll go and see your Oma in Berlin." Eva asked, "Is that okay?"

Miyako nodded, "Can we get those big chocolate eggs like last year?"

"But of course." She kissed her, "Be good for papa and Miriam. And you be sure to call me at weekends and tell me how well you are doing at school. Promise?"

"Promise." They pinky swore and Eva gave wrapped her in her arms, hugging her as if realsing for the first time in a while that this was her child, her baby.

"I like your perfume, mama," Miyako mumbled into her shoulder.

"Papa will buy you three bottles," Eva said, with a wink. Baldwin rolled his eyes.

"I'll ship her clothes from my house in Rome here," Eva said.

"That's good."

Eva glanced at Miriam and nodded politely. But it wasn't without slight warning.

"That was a lot more peaceful than the first time." Hamish remarked, "I don't think I will ever get the smell of burning oil paint out my head. Or suit."

Miriam wrapped her arms around Baldwin's waist and kissed him on the cheek, "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you. If you excuse me, I'm going to destroy that new investment firm, the one named after Bellic." Baldwin said gruffly. Miriam sighed but smiled. He did hate surrender. Destroying someone's livelihood would help him get over it.

"That's owned by Gerbert's eldest son?" Hamish pointed out. Baldwin looked at him, "I will shut up."

[shirophantomvox]

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Nie brothers time travel but something goes wrong and they end up in each other bodies. So now they have to defeat WRH, find a way to curb JGY worst tendencies, and hide (and undo) the switch before any cultivator decides they are possesed by evil spirits

“I can’t do this,” Nie Huaisang announced heavily. “I can’t. Nope. Cannot. No way.”

“You apparently found a way to time travel into the past,” his brother pointed out. He was taking this entire thing very calmly – or, rather, like he’d heard a really great joke. It wasn’t that Nie Huaisang had forgotten that his brother had a sense of humor hidden under the rage, especially in the earlier years before Jin Guangyao got at him, but he may have downplayed his memories of how annoying it was to be the target of it. “Your abilities are clearly well beyond what you’ve been leading me to believe.”

“I’m sneaky,” Nie Huaisang explained. “I can scheme and plot and play politics, sometimes, if I have to. But I cannot be a general!”

I cannot be you, he meant. He might currently be inhabiting his long-dead brother’s body – an unfortunate side effect of messing up the time travel array, he suspected, but then again experimental things were often imperfect – while his brother’s spirit had been cast out into his own former self, but he wasn’t his brother.

He could never be.

(But Nie Mingjue was alive, alive and well with bright eyes and that stupid smirk that didn’t fit right on Nie Huaisang’s smaller face except in the ways it sort of did, and that was all Nie Huaisang had ever wanted in his life, other than Jin Guangyao to pay in blood and shame for depriving him of it.)

“Why not?” his brother asked. He leaned back and stretched lazily. Nie Mingjue never did a lazy thing in his whole life, so it was deliberate. He was enjoying this. “We have a battle strategy, already decided; most of the rest of it is on-the-ground tactics, which can be done just as well from behind the lines as at the front of them. There’s a reason that no one ever settled on the best place for a war-leader to be – it comes down to temperament.”

Nie Huaisang threw his hands into the air. “I know that! I was sect leader for nearly two decades, da-ge; I assure you, I’ve heard all the sect’s philosophical musings by now. But I don’t have your temperament – there’s no way someone won’t figure out what’s happened, that we’ve switched, and that’ll be a disaster.”

“Two decades,” Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully, focusing on the entirely wrong part of the conversation.

“A decade and a half to avenge your untimely murder,” that got a flinch out of his brother and his focus back, just as Nie Huaisang had wanted, “and another five to find a way to come back and avert it entirely.”

Nie Huaisang had always been resourceful. Resourceful, and ruthless – sometimes to a degree that scared even him.

When he was younger, it was okay. After all, the only thing he used it for was sneaking treats and spoiling himself, and it didn’t really matter if he was ruthless about stuff like that. And then his brother died – was murdered – and suddenly he knew what it was like to be his brother: a young man suddenly shoved into the role of sect leader, and having to balance everything he now had to be against the overwhelming blistering hatred he bore for and the crippling weight of the vengeance he had sworn against a man who had taken away someone he loved forever for something as pointless and ephemeral as political advantage.

(He had to take a deep breath at the mere thought of it, the family rage spiking under his skin. It was a bit of a surprise, actually, to find that his brother didn’t have more of it - he’d always assumed that his rage was lesser, weaker, the way his golden core was, but no. It turned out their rage was just the same.)

“So what you’re saying,” his brother said, and he was smirking again, oh no, “is that you’re focused, efficient, and unyielding in pursuit of your goals, given the right motivation. That sounds like general material to me.”

“Not if the goal is to make sure no one knows what’s happened,” Nie Huaisang hissed. Had own face always looked so incredibly punchable? “Da-ge, it doesn’t matter what type of general I might be. What matters is that it’s not the same type of general you are – you’re always at the front line, leading the charge. I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can,” his brother said. “By the time you’re in the middle of a charge, you’re not really thinking tactics anymore. It’s all just fighting, and I know you know all the moves, no matter how much you bitch and moan about having to practice them.”

Nie Huaisang glared, crossing his arms over his chest – his brother’s arms, his brother’s chest, and this was still just too weird. He hadn’t even had time to properly weep and cry and hug his brother the way he’d expected to in the event the time travel array worked; they’d had to jump straight into explanations and strategizing because there was a pretty big battle happening in less than twenty-four hours and they needed to fix this first.

His brother rolled his eyes at him, and for the first time Nie Huaisang realized that his brother was going to have no problem at all pretending to be him – the acting problem here went only one way. “Just let Baxia handle the aggression part, okay? The rest is muscle memory, and I, at least, have done enough to build that in.”

“Letting the saber spirit in like that is dangerous, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang reminded him, eyes narrowed. His brother was also assuming that Baxia would agree to be wielded by anyone other than her beloved master, which was a stretch – she barely even agreed to be sharpened by someone else, resisting violently whenever someone tried. 

Jin Guangyao had died still bearing the scars from his attempt. 

“Well, apparently I get murdered before it becomes an issue, so why worry?” his brother cackled, and Nie Huaisang glared harder. It had no impact whatsoever: Nie Mingjue stood up and stretched again. “You know what, Huaisang, if you’re feeling the need to sit around and pity yourself, you’ve got at least a few incense sticks’ worth of time to do it in before actually doing something becomes necessary – I, on the other hand, am going to do something productive with my time.”

“Like what?”

His brother grinned at him with teeth. “Saber training. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Nie Huaisang picked up a teacup and hurtled it at his beloved big brother’s head. Naturally, Nie Mingjue dodged, effortlessly, and left laughing.

“At least pretend like you’re going to behave!” Nie Huaisang bellowed after him, but his brother just waved at him, and – ugh. This was vengeance for a lifetime of laziness, wasn’t it? Coming to bite him in the ass.

After a few minutes, Nie Huaisang picked up another teacup – they always had dozens of them in the Nie sect, cheaply made in bulk and specifically designed to shatter easily because of the family tendency to throw stuff around and not calm down until something was broken, and better a cheap teacup than an expensive door or table, better something designed not to hurt anyone who happened to get in the way or didn’t know how to duck faster enough – and threw it against the door again.

It shattered beautifully. NIe Huaisang had only rarely been able to get it to do that, and never so effortlessly – the advantage of his brother’s strength.

Strength, and height. Nie Huaisang was tall now.

Okay, self-pity could wait until later. Nie Huaisang was going to go patrol the camp for a little bit and enjoy looking down at all the people.

It was going to be great.

It was, too. Even talking with people wasn’t as difficult as he thought it was going to be. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised at that; he had been sect leader for years, so he was accustomed to answering questions and making on-the-fly rearrangements and responding to things with leading questions that made the other person come up with the solution on their own, not to mention saying encouraging things that made people feel better about things. 

He’d had to do a lot of that, being the Head-shaker, and even more afterwards, when he’d shed his disguise like a cicada shedding its skin.

It was easier now than it had ever been before, of course. The Nie sect was still strong, under his brother’s leadership; his disciples didn’t have that discouraged look lurking in the back of their eyes, the shame of being led by the disgraceful Head-shaker. It was easy to brighten someone’s day with a nod in their direction, disciples blooming like roses at the sight of their stern sect leader looking approving, and the questions he received were far more intellectually stimulating than the usual – less about making sure he knew what he was supposed to do and more actual puzzles, things that had really tripped people up.

Nie Huaisang tried at first to keep his answers short, tried to pretend to be more stoic and stand-offish the way the famous Chifeng-zun ought to be, except when he did everyone just smiled at him the way they always had when he’d been the Head-shaker – a little indulgent, a little pitying, a little “well he’s trying his best” – and after a while Nie Huaisang started remembering things he’d long ago forgotten.

Things like how his brother was actually kind of a mess sometimes, emotionally speaking – he was the sort of person who got weepy over dramatic literature – and how he’d never quite gotten the hang of people, how he valued his friends like gold and held grudges way too long and promoted people just because they seemed decent; how he sometimes spent his entire money pouch and more on buying Nie Huaisang stupid trinkets because it seemed to make him happy, even borrowing money from their escort, which would always be doubled over laughing at how their fearsome sect leader couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Like how Nie Huaisang’s sect was his family, aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters, whether born in or adopted or just part of the sect. The good type of family – not always the closest, not always your friends, not always even people you really liked, but still all predisposed to take your side in a fight if it came down to it.

These were the people who supported him and stood behind him – even when he was the Head-shaker.

He’d almost forgotten.

And so, despite himself, Nie Huaisang softened a bit. He stopped trying to respond to everything with a grunt or a huff, started asking about people’s families, making suggestions, telling them they’d done a good job.

“Glad you’re out of your mood,” Nie Yongbiao, who’d been quietly trailing him, finally commented, and Nie Huaisang blinked owlishly at him. “What kicked it off this time? You usually only get that closed-mouth after having to host guests.”

And that was true, wasn’t it? It had been such a long time, and after so much trauma, that Nie Huaisang had forgotten how his brother used to shut down whenever there was a discussion conference or an important meeting – how it took him longer and longer to get better on the other side as the qi deviation drew nearer, his meridians filling with Jin Guangyao’s spiritual poison. By the end, he had barely ever been open and free, barely seemed to remember how to drop his guard and relax, to act like a regular person with a sense of humor again, be the person Nie Huaisang knew his brother to be. 

But that was then, and this was now - war had been good for Nie Mingjue, in a strange way. Here in the camps there was a lessened expectation of etiquette, a great appreciation of strength, and his brother was more free to be himself, straightforward and blunt as the off side of a saber.

(Nie Mingjue had tried so hard to be a good brother to Jin Guangyao, Nie Huaisang abruptly remembered, but he’d shut down after every visit, worse than ever before. His heart had known the truth, even if he had allowed himself to be convinced by Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang to keep giving Jin Guangyao second chance after second chance. He should never have listened to them.)

“Argument with Huaisang,” he said, a safe answer, and Nie Yongbiao nodded wisely.

“Can you say what it was about?” he asked, rather unexpectedly – Nie Yongbiao wasn’t exactly talkative, and no one ever pried about their family affairs. Catching Nie Huaisang’s surprised look, he shrugged. “He’s obviously very upset.”

“He is?”

“He’s at the training field,” Nie Yongbiao stressed, and Nie Huaisang had to choke down a hysterical laugh. Of course Nie Yongbiao would think that something must have gone horribly wrong to get “Nie Huaisang” to go willingly to train.

Nor was Nie Yongbiao the only one, for that matter: when Nie Huaisang arrived at the training field they’d set up in the middle of the camp, he saw an entire crowd of Nie sect disciples milling around at the edge of the field, bearing a suspicious resemblance to a flock of over-anxious quail.

He reached up to his face, pretending to want to pinch the bridge of his nose but actually to smother a smile, and luckily he had regained control of his features by the time he reached the edge of the small sea of disciples because they immediately all turned to him with relieved expressions, their cries of “Sect Leader! Sect Leader!” ringing in his ears like the coos of his pet birds.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, and immediately received the full story: Nie Huaisang had come to the field looking upset – one person insisted there had been tears in his eyes – and had set himself up against a practice dummy, and he hadn’t stopped whacking at it ever since.

Clearly, the world was ending.

“We had an argument earlier,” Nie Huaisang admitted, and managed, barely, not to laugh at how they all looked at him with disapproving eyes. “I’ll talk with him.”

Approving nods all around, although they didn’t disperse.

“Sect Leader,” one of the older generation said, very hesitantly. “If it’s about – the clan matter – if there’s anything we can do to help –”

Nie Huaisang shook his head, feeling touched. When it really had been him, his brother had kept the specifics of it secret – the tombs, the inevitability, the deterioration he was so avidly trying to put off – until it was too late, and he’d had to learn about it the hard way; it was nice, though, that they apparently all worried so much on his behalf about it.

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “But it’s a different issue.”

Namely, the issue was that the person doing the training wasn’t Nie Huaisang at all, he thought, but when the crowd finally started breaking apart, people going back to their assigned tasks, and he finally managed to make his way to where his brother was, he was surprised to see that his brother really did appear to be upset.

He wasn’t practicing any of his normal training routines, but rather wielding Aituan in the same way a novice woodcutter would wield an axe: repetitive strikes, made wildly and with too much strength, as if hitting the practice dummy was the only thing that could vent his feelings.

“Uh, ‘Huaisang’?” Nie Huaisang asked, worrying his lip as he came closer. “Are you –”

His brother dropped Aituan to the ground – which, hey! Watch it, that was his saber! – and turned, and Nie Huaisang had only a moment to see his glassy eyes before his brother threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tight.

Nie Huaisang automatically responded, wrapping his arms back around and holding Nie Mingjue close – it was nice, he thought, to finally have the reach he’d always felt he should have, big and tall and enveloping in its warm the way his brother had been for him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his voice low enough not to carry. “Did something happen…?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, but his lips were pressed together to keep them from trembling. Nie Huaisang’s body had always been free with his emotions, much to his annoyance; he’d learned to cultivate it into a disguise, but he hadn’t really liked it. Tears had never been a relief for him the way they’d been for his brother. “No, it’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” Nie Huaisang said firmly, and carted him off back to his tent. Being as worried as he was, he did his best not to be too smug about finally being the one who was strong enough to pick his brother up, rather than the other way around – not that he needed to, what with his brother following docilely along with him – but there was, perhaps, a little bit of smugness. “Okay, we’re back, silencing talismans are back up because we apparently have the nosiest disciples. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing, really…”

“Da-ge.”

“I left you alone,” his brother blurted out, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “For twenty years. Whatever I did, however I got murdered – some moment of carelessness – it doesn’t matter. I failed you.”

Oh, no. No, no, no– 

“No,” he said out loud. “No, da-ge, you were tricked – it wasn’t – it wasn’t your fault.”

“I always said I would hold up the sky for you,” Nie Mingjue said bitterly. “And instead I left you with the same inheritance that I received. I never wanted that for you, Huaisang. Never.”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said helplessly. “Da-ge, you don’t understand. You were trying. You wanted – you were doing everything you could. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t fail me. I was the one who failed you. I’ve always failed you –”

“Never!”

“I’m lazy, I’m selfish, I’m good-for-nothing, a head-shaker –”

“So what?” his brother said, glaring up at him. His eyes were red, but with tears, not qi deviation. “Even if it’s true, which it isn’t, because no head-shaker could have avenged me, could have found a way to come back, could have become the Nie sect leader and kept it for two decades, even if it’s true – so what? As long as you’re safe, I don’t care. As long as you have a way to defend yourself, and you so obviously must have, then nothing else matters. Nothing has ever mattered but your happiness.”

“And yours,” Nie Huaisang shot back. “You have the right to a life too, da-ge! You – you should have had my support. You should have been able to share your burdens, I should have helped you instead of anchored you down –”

“Huaisang –”

Nie Huaisang pulled him in tight again. “It’ll be different, this time,” he promised, his voice rough. “I’m older than you ever go the chance to be, da-ge. This time, I can help you with the things you’re not good at – I can do the politics, the people. We can bear the weight of the sect together.”

He felt a whisper in the back of his mind that was strange and yet familiar, approving. Baxia, he realized. Baxia, approving of him; Baxia, who would let him wield her,   and he sensed her confidence that no one would get past her iron guard, together protecting his brother in both body and soul.

“All right,” his brother said. “Together. You and me – and the others.”

“Others?”

“After so many years, you must know who’s trustworthy,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. Already back to being practical, even if he was wiping his eyes. “If we tell those people, they can help us keep up the impression that I’m you and you’re me for as long as we need it.”

Nie Huaisang was nodding along, because that made sense, only then his brother said the last part and it was like a sunrise had opened up in his head, the way terrible and wonderful ideas always did.

“Da-ge,” he said, tasting the words in his mouth. “Da-ge, how do you like my body?”

His brother blinked up at him. “It’s fine, I guess? You’re actually in pretty decent shape, better than I thought, and your cultivation is – well, you could do a bit more with that, honestly, but it’s not uncomfortable or anything. Why?”

Nie Huaisang smiled. He’d always been remarkably resistant to their family’s cultivation curse, and not only, as he’d pretended to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji all those years ago, because he didn’t practice - it was his temper, or lack thereof, that softened the saber spirit’s effects on him. 

Even if his body’s cultivation increased, he was far enough behind the curve, with his mediocre talent, that it would take decades for him to reach the level that it would be dangerous to him, while his brother’s prodigious talent, coupled with his inheritance of the family temper, made him even more likely to succumb – it was that prediction which had worried him so much that he had sought out treatment even before it had become a serious problem, the same worries that had driven him into Jin Guangyao’s trap.

What do you think? he asked the brand-new whisper in his mind. Aituan would probably bitch and moan about having to actually do things, but he’d secretly enjoy getting a bit more evil-killing in; the question was Baxia. What would she think?

A purr of agreement.

“I was just thinking,” Nie Huaisang said. “Chronologically speaking, I’m older than you are. I ran the sect for years – it might be hard to let go of that habit. How about we just…stay as we are, for now?”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Baxia –”

“I’ll use her in public, and Aituan in private,” Nie Huaisang interrupted. He’d known that would be his brother’s first concern. “And you’ll do the opposite. And when we’re settled enough, we’ll come up with some excuse to switch.”

His brother hesitated. “But…you don’t like doing things. Responsibility. That sort of thing.”

“I got over it,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “Trust me, I have a whole system – I’ll implement it once the Sunshot Campaign is done; you’ll be amazed at how much easier it makes things, and then all the things that are left over are the stuff I actually enjoy. And this way, you could…I…”

He swallowed, and put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. He didn’t want to manipulate his brother into something like this – he didn’t want to manipulate his brother at all. His brother deserved the truth and honesty he had always freely given the world, and so Nie Huaisang could only offer up the unvarnished truth.

“I want to do this for you, da-ge,” he said. “I want you to have the life you should have had. I want you to have hobbies again, to make friends, real friends that will put you first. I want you to have fun with them without thinking of how people might think about it…please, da-ge. I came back here to keep you alive, but I want more than that. I want to see you live.”

“Okay,” his brother said, and he was choking back tears again. “We’ll – we’ll discuss it later, but I’ll think about it. Okay.”

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said. “Now catch me up on the tactics we’re planning on using in tomorrow’s battle, and I’ll let you know everything I know about what happens in the future…oh, and one more thing.”

“Oh?”

Nie Huaisang’s hand dropped to the table, parallel to Baxia; he could hear her purr in his mind whistling like the rumble of thunder. He smiled.

“Can you tell me where Meng Yao is?”

[ruby-whistler]

You've probably talked about this kinda thing before (I'm willing to hunt down the post if so), but I'm pretty new to your blog and I'm curious; what makes you like c!Dream so much? Other than, like, his potential - or the skill that went into writing him - I mean specifically as a character, what causes you to sympathize with him as opposed to others like Wilbur or Quackity?

If it's personal you obviously don't have to answer! I've just read tons of posts like that from c!Tommy apologists and I realized I'd never read one from the other side of things (so to speak) and I think you present your ideas and stuff rly well :p

Alright, I’ve made a couple of replies like this, but this one is going in the masterpost to later link it to people - thank you for your interest, and I hope you don’t mind this one being a bit detailed.

Initially, on more of an emotional level, the answer to that question would be Dr3. It was how I got into Dream apologism, it justified my compassion for the character, and made me feel more comfortable where the rest of the fandom was overwhelmingly negative.

The c!Dream that people portray seems unsympathetic, and pretty fitting on the surface - a relentless manipulative villain with an insatiate thirst for power who threw away his friends in order to gain control over others for the sake of being on top.

Until you actually look into canon, and do some analysis, and realize that's,,, rather far from the truth.

See, the thing about c!Dream is, that he's a person much like anyone else in the story. He's not a "villain" or some morally black character only because of his actions. It's all about context, which doesn't excuse actions, but it might explain them and make an impact on the way we view the character himself.

In this fandom, people usually look at him, and then throw both accurate characterization and any of that context out the window.

Because power, and hurting people, and chaos isn't his goal or his motive. It's a means to an end. Everything is a means to the end to this character, including himself, which I find fascinating.

Is it wrong to do? Yes. Will it get him closer to his goals? Yes? Then he's going to do it, no matter who gets hurt in the process. No matter if he gets hurt in the process.

And this ruthlessness is not inspired by cruelty, this efficiency isn't out of enjoyment. It's out of genuine attachment and perhaps even desperation, but that's difficult to get into.

He's had such a downward spiral into doing continuously worse things - and for what? For control? For power? No, he never cared about that in the first place, why would he start now?

Do you know what he did care about?

His friends. The server. The people he feels responsible for.

c!Dream's goals have never been selfish at all, no matter how much people try to paint it that way. His ends were always for others - considering how likely the theory that he got himself locked up on purpose is, that enforces the sentiment even more.

If he didn't care about the server, why would he fight against L'Manberg and then list his reasons for it always as reasons "we" had? He pretty much never used "I" when talking about it, I know because I counted it.

If he didn't care about the people, why would he stand against Schlatt - despite understandably still despising L'Manberg - and actively support them in getting their country back when he could've just left them alone? Schlatt wasn't hurting him. Wilbur taking a tiny piece of land wasn't threatening him.

Manberg was threatening the server's peace, which is why he fought against it. L'Manberg threatened (and ruined) the server's relative peace and unity, which is why he fought against it.

It was never him fighting to control the server, it was him fighting for the server and the people in it, even if he ended up hurting them in the process, and that's pretty clear from analysing his motives before the second season.

And yeah, his thinking is flawed, I noticed - but cc!Dream has confirmed his goal in the end is for everyone to get along and, well, stop hurting each other, as well as him having an "ends justify the means" mentality.

And I guess that silent realization of - hell, he cares - was what drew me to have such a strong attachment towards the character.

So thinking about him forcing himself to do all this terrible stuff - about him being stuck powerless inside a cell, hurt over and over again - about just how desperate he must've been, alternatively, how ready to sacrifice himself he must've been back at the Finale.

If you recontextualize the story from c!Dream's perspective, it all falls into this picture of someone who wanted to protect people more than anything, and who cared more than anyone, and ended up losing everything, not entirely by his own fault, but because of the cycle of violence he was actively trying to stop.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Dream is incredibly selfless both in his overarching goals, and in his smaller more immediate ones. He will, more often than not, put himself in a disadvantageous situation if it means his friends or allies aren’t caught in the crossfire or harmed.

His relationship with his friends - Punz, George and Sapnap specifically - is incredibly tragic. He wanted to protect Punz, he showed genuine concern about him, he was willing to have one less person on his side just so that people wouldn't target him.

He wanted to protect George, but he hurt him in the process, because he was too caught up in being in the right, and Sapnap was distraught thanks to Tommy telling him that Dream doesn't care about him, and Quackity who despised Dream was there to fan the flames, so they fell apart rather easily.

He wanted to protect the cat, and he failed.

He wanted to protect Techno, stand up to Quackity, and he failed.

If you think about it, he failed to protect everyone miserably.

Alright before I break down sobbing incoherently - as you can probably see, my sympathy towards c!Dream doesn't come from him being a good person to any degree, more from just incredible amounts of sadness.

You see, c!Dream is a very reserved character, and he puts up the "cruel scary villain" front on purpose, and he doesn't talk about his emotions on purpose. However what we see of him is pretty much enough to classify him as a rather tragic character.

Most of his actions, with enough context, shift the way I think about the character in a more positive direction only because if I like the way a character is written, it's going to bleed into my feelings for the character himself. Ruthless villains are my jam. A character being fun to analyse and too complex to complicate further is pretty much the only thing I need to become attached.

Did I mention the prison arc yet? I cannot see a character suffering and not be sympathetic, I don't think that's a thing with me. Healing arc potential, isn't it?

A lot of people also relate to the character on a deeply personal level! Trauma responses such as cutting people off and emotionally isolating yourself, trying to regain control of your environment or to get back the past, some people even relate to,, what's being done to him during the prison arc. There's definitely some amount of projection going on, but I'd say I only do it to a degree where when I'm depressed I'll start relentlessly posting about a healing arc.

It's just hard to see a villain with good intentions hurt and alone, even if he's done terrible things, and not feel some amount of empathy. Most people don't care to see him that way, but my blog's mostly a place for those who do.

Anyways, here are some essays to check out perhaps if you've read this far that elaborate on some of the points further-

[ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ] [ x ]

- and here's an explanation like this from a fellow Dream apologist. Might be useful to get multiple perspectives on the subject. Feel free to also send asks if you have any questions! That's what I'm here for.