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churipu · 4 months

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HAIIII IPIN !!!!!!! can i request gojo, geto, and nanami (separate) having a gf that's really optimistic? just someone who sees the good in everything and anything, and positive at all times! thank SOOOO much !!!!

JJK MEN + OPTIMISTIC GIRLFRIEND

featuring. gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento x fem! reader

warning. people being mean to u >:(

note. HAIIII ANONN!!! i love this request bcs sometimes i read books, mangas, watch movies, you name 'em and see a certain character having the most positive mindset and i just go must protecc >:( anyways, thank you anon for requesting just after i opened the request box, istg i love all your ideas so much it makes me feel full <;33

GOJO SATORU. absolutely hates the way you try to see the good in people — specifically people who have hurt your feelings in the past. he just wonders what goes on in your mind to just forgive and forget everyone who has wronged you.

you did. but not him.

"baby, that guy called you names when you were in high school!" gojo whines, laying down on the bed, draping an arm over your torso, "why are you still willing to meet him?"

"satoru, he said he was sorry!" you smiled at him, tracing his features softly — the male grumbled but leaned into your touch, "and plus it's not nice to hold grudges, it's been what? how many years?"

a loud whine escapes his throat as he pulled you close, "it doesn't matter how many years it has been, he still hurt your feelings. and nobody does that to my baby," he said, miffed.

you couldn't help but to chuckle, "well, you are coming along, so i have nothing to worry about."

the male grins, "damn right i am coming, he better sleep with one eye open starting from now," gojo threatens.

gojo just cannot wrap his head around your concept of "forgive-and-forget" because you never hold grudges, you forget everything and still talk to people who've wronged you, and you still have the heart to accept them.

as much as people say "forgive and forget", they end up at least holding the tiniest bit of grudge — or even a bigger grudge, right? but you? you don't. you actually forgive and forget.

well — thankfully, not him. he takes his job to protect you seriously, from any kind of harm, including monsters (people who were mean to you) both in the past, present, and possibly the future.

"baby, can you stop hanging out with that one girl? the one who always wears the purple colored eye-shadow?" he asks you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"hm? why?"

"i don't like the vibe she gives out. it's giving...well...cruella de vil." he murmurs into your neck, nuzzling his nose in content as you went on with your skincare routine.

"satoru," you mumbled, "you can't just judge her by her vibes."

he groans, "but baby, i swear i could just feel it! she's evil," he whispers in your ear.

"satoru."

"okay, fine. just tell me if she does anything to you, i'll give her a piece of my mind (hollow purple)." he mutters out, pouting and upset as you brushed his speculations off.

GETO SUGURU. he loves it and hates it at the same time. geto loves how positive you are against the world — and what more does he need, really? it's you and him against the world at this point, although he feels like he doesn't contribute much to your positive energy (that's what he thinks).

geto thinks of himself as a pretty negative person. and you know. the both of you had a lot of deep talks about everything, including what you both had in mind. and honestly, geto wasn't surprised if he hears you talking about how your life was going smoothly; and his was just a contradiction to what you have.

it's life, people come and go. but geto seemed skeptical of that term, why couldn't people come and stay? he finds it hard to believe that you could be the one leaving him at anytime of the day, and the thought just terrifies the male.

the death of amanai put a hole in his mind that couldn't be closed off, and it fucking scarred him. but you were there for him, you didn't sugar coat words or tell him white lies — you tell him everything, straight to his face, and your choices of words made him feel loved. what else could he ask for?

"'m sorry," he mutters into your shoulder, and his voice comes out a bit muffled.

you brushed his nape gently, "it's alright sugu, you know you don't have to apologize for being sad, right?" you tell him, pressing a kiss onto the side of his head, "it's okay to be a little sad."

sometimes he asks himself if he really deserved you or not. but at the end of the day; you always convince him that he deserved it.

geto hates your optimism sometimes because he watches people trample over you and you brush them off with a smile, it makes him feel angry. he asks himself why you were doing this to yourself? believe me when he tried asking you to try talking back, or putting up a fight.

"angel, you know it makes me kind of sad that you'd let people talk to you that way," he said to you, grazing his finger over your cheek gently.

you shot him a gentle smile, "'ts okay sugu, what good do i get from arguing back to them, really?"

he just pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, saying nothing. god, he just wanted to protect you from the world — why does everyone have to be so fucking mean to you?

"will you be mad if i tell them off for you?" he asks

"depends on your methods, tell me about it."

"threatening them. if it doesn't work, violence." he mutters out briefly.

"sugu, no."

NANAMI KENTO. he doesn't mind it, he finds you endearing, really. a cat getting hurt? he'll accompany you to the vet with it. or a child crying because of a fall? he'll watch you help them without any single thoughts behind.

he just loves how selfless you are. nanami once read a quote, "when given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind." and every time he sees a selfless act from you — he just kinds of chanted it in his mind, and tell you what, nanami is such a proud boyfriend.

nanami loves how you see the good in everything, a person spilled their food on you? you tell them mistakes happen. a person bumping into you and then blaming you for it? you tell them you're sorry and thought that maybe they just had a really bad day.

but sometimes he couldn't help but to worry over you — someone so positive, bubbly, and optimistic around people who (probably) have disgusting minds. when he's not around to keep an eye on you, he just worries that someone might took advantage of your kindness and throw it out the window.

and he wouldn't be there to stop it from happening.

"ken, i'm going to go out for a hang out. it's fine, i've got my friends with me!" god, the jitters that he gets whenever you mention your friends — he was never really fond of the friends you have now, especially since they were trying hard to earn his attention. he knows they were just using you.

the texts they sent to him behind your back, the shit-talking about you, and everything else. god, he wanted to tell you about it; but he just didn't have the heart to, because he knows it will break your heart.

although nanami told them off quite rudely, defending you — it baffled him to how they still try to hang out with you with no shame after. and he tried telling you about how he doesn't like them, but you tell him it was fine.

"may i come along then?" just the thought of leaving you alone with those people pisses him off to the core, if he can't stop you from being friends with them — he will be with you.

when you agreed, he made it his job to expose them as nicely as he could. and he succeeded, oh the ecstasy he felt when you finally told them you didn't feel like hanging out with them anymore.

(and he ended up showing you the texts).

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daycourtofficial · 5 months

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Hello. If you dont mind i have a request for azriel where maybe reader has just given birth and has lately been feeling very insecure about her body and azriel comforts her...with lots of fluff

A New Warmth

Sorry about how long this took anon, but I hope the wait was worth it!

You watch the baby nestled in the crook of your arms, mirroring her deep breaths to keep yourself calm. She was so soft, so sweet, and whenever she reached for you, it made your heart melt. She was everything you and Azriel had hoped for - healthy, chubby, and sweet as can be. She even had the cutest little wings that twitched in her sleep.

The problem with having an Illyrian baby is you develop an Illyrian’s appetite while pregnant with them, along with the other stretching and tearing your body has gone through to accommodate her.

She was two weeks old at this point, and you knew you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Your body created this - a perfect mirror of you and your mate. But you couldn’t help the negative thoughts fluttering through your mind as your hand rested on your stomach, knowing the fresh stretch marks that lay underneath. You gained a good deal of weight during the pregnancy, your labor only removing about a dozen of those pounds.

As if sensing your spiraling thoughts, your mate walks in the door of your shared bedroom, his eyes alight with love and adoration at seeing his two girls.

“My loves,” he greets the both of you, setting the mugs of tea he had brought down, lifting the blanket to lat next to you. His presence under the blanket providing a new layer of warmth- not just physical, but the warmth of the three of you being together.

You lean your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm behind you, slowly to not disturb the baby in your arms. “Will I ever get my body back?” You mumble into his shoulder. His fingers start caressing your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into it.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think you will.” You want to snap your head up, tell him that’s no way to console someone who had just pushed out his baby out of a tiny opening in their body when he uses his hand to hold your head in place.

“We will never be the same. We cannot go back.” He looks down at the baby in your arms, “maybe one day you’ll have more autonomy again - you won’t have a baby latched to your breast every other hour.”

His hand snakes down to rest on top of the hand you’re using to cradle the baby. “But she’ll always be a part of you.” The baby starts stirring, moving her tiny hands, and he reaches out a finger, which she quickly wraps her delicate fingers around. You both watch the scarred flesh in the pristine grasp of your innocent babe, no idea of an outside world that could cause harm. All she knows is the sanctuary of your home.

You look at Azriel with tears in your eyes, feeling incredibly silly over being upset at stretch marks. But as if he can read your mind, he tells you, “you have constantly given me what I thought I’d never have. You loved me, you gave me a true home, you gave me a mate, and now?” He laughs, flexing his finger in her grasp. “You’ve expanded our family. You gorgeous thing, you.”

He kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “Your love knows no bounds, and I am eternally grateful for you.”

You start crying, post partem hormones taking control of you. “It’s so shallow,” you laugh as a tear falls, “I just was so upset over how weird my body feels. The pregnancy glow is gone so now I just feel heavy and weird in my own skin.”

He uses the hand not gripped by your baby to grab your chin and tilt it towards him. “I couldn’t look at my hands for a long time, after they had done it.”

Azriel always has a way of leaving you speechless, telling you another facet of himself he never had before.

“I could barely look at them before I met you. But you called them beautiful, this part of me I hated so much.” He looks into your eyes, the bond between you two humming in joy and adoration. “It’s okay if you don’t like how you look right now, I will find you beautiful enough for the both of us.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff

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jilixthinker · 5 months

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Lee Know with aphrodisiacs. THATS ALL I'M ASKING FOR. LEE KNOW + APHRODISIACS.

anon 💖 this has been sitting in my requests for the longest time! 🤧 but such an honest concept, i have been thinking about this a lot.

=͟͟͞♡ lee know × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ chocolate aphrodisiacs (hard thought)

Minho who is usually the brattiest of brats, always teasing and answering back before giving you what you asked him, until the day you try feeding him special christmas chocolate pralines and he just melts in your embrace while you are watching home alone on your sofa.

You are splayed on the couch, Minho squirming on top of you, straddling your laps and softly nibbling at your earlobe, quiet moans directly on your skin while you caress his plush tighs.

"Uhm... b-baby... I am so hot -ah- why does it f-feel so hot?"

You turn your head to kiss his jaw. His face is flushed and red, and his skin feels very warm against your lips.

"Oh kitty... you knew the chocolate was going to work. but you said you could resist, don't you? Mh... did you change your mind already?"

Minho moves from your ear to start licking at your neck. His tongue is soft and wet and he sucks tiny kisses near your collarbones.

"Uh- mh. Wan' to..."

He stutters while moving a bit above you, his body is feverish, semi-hard cock already forming a tent, the underline of it looking delicious. You move your hand to play with the head over the fabric of his pants, feeling the way it twitches under your touch.

"Want to what, princess? Tell me, I might give it to you since you are so nice and good today."

Minho sighs and looks at you from his spot, nuzzled on the crook of your neck. His lips are still stained with the remains of the chocolate his ate before, collected in the corner of his lips.

You grab his chin with your fingers and you slowly start to lick all over his parted mouth, the sweet taste of the chocolate invading your taste buds together with a little bit of his saliva.

Minho moans directly in your mouth, your hand still teasing the tip of his clothed cock.

"W-wan' to suck, please, please, let me... ah-"

You bite his lower lip and you slide your tongue against it, shoving your hand into his pants and palming him before grabbing his heavy balls and squish them softly.

"Kitty wants to suck but he's so lost than cannot tell me what? Aw, baby..."

You coo condescendingly and you keep rolling one warm ball on your hand, the weight so nice on your fingers.

"W-whatever.. please, I need it - ah."

You crush your lips against his, finally grabbing his cock fully and starting to jerk him off, the squelching sounds so dirty in the room.

"Kitty, you're so wet.. mh- so wet like a girl. My dirty baby."

You circle your wrist against his head, precum gushing out of his slit while minho lets out the most loving sighs on your lips. You start to rub on the sensitive spot under his tip and his tongue lolls out of his mouths.

"I'm gonna decide for you, pretty. Suck on my tongue while I get my filthy princess off, mh?"

Minho nods frantically and takes your wet muscle in between his swollen lips, starting to suck on it messily, spit soaking both of your chins.

When he comes, he lets out the most desperate moan, all shivering and trembling while spurting all of his release inside his underwear.

"Good kitty, so cute and obedient for me."

You kiss his temple and Minho crashes on your body. The smell of chocolate is still in the air.

Oh, you definitively have to do this more often.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #lee know smut #lee know imagines #lee know hard thoughts #lee know x reader #lee know x you #nari:ask

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siriusleee · 9 months

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Like Blood on Iron | Part 6

Historical Executioner AU Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

A/N: I am actually sorry to the anon who asked me weeks ago if this Jonathan is Jonathan Price and I said no. I lied. I couldn't show my hand to fast.

If you liked this chapter or story please consider donating to my ko-fi. I am super broke and writing is like my second job.

You can also request a custom, just for you fic there. I will not be adding any additional tags to my tag list. Please turn on notifications for my blog or follow on Ko-Fi. find the other chapters here on my masterlist

You don't bring up running away with Simon again. You think about it, each night sitting in his cabin, the nights you spend beside him, fingers memorizing the hills and valleys of his body. It eats at you - the complete knowledge that if you were to leave alone, you would leave him behind. You're not sure what would be worse: a life without him or a life with him always on the fringes.

You almost bring it up again, just once. Lily had cooked too many sticky buns, something you'd found out Simon was completely susceptible to. There was a sneaking suspicion that she was doing it on purpose - you knew that she was smart enough to put it together: the cloak you'd returned, and all the nights you spent away. Watching him suck the syrup from his fingers, the question tumbled out of you - one you'd been thinking of for weeks.

"You can get married can't you? The last executioner was."

Simon froze, finger still poised in his mouth. His gaze kept you pinned to your seat as he thought about his answer.

"We cannot marry once we've been sentenced. However, if we were married previously, we stay married."

You had wanted to push the question further.

Would you marry me?

But you didn't ask it, instead keeping it close to yourself.

There was no good answer, and you knew whatever it was he said would break you anyway. So you keep the fantasies to yourself: of the two of you running away, of Simon being the one to wait for you at the end of the aisle. Even if it meant Mother and Father never speaking to you again, you would give it up for him. But you know what he would say, so you keep it to yourself.

You know you need to tell him when Jonathan is coming home, so you do. Curled up into the small of Simon's back, you whisper the words, mouth nearly pressed against his spine. It's a subtle shift, the way Simon tenses at the words, but you feel it nonetheless.

"He'll be back in the port tomorrow."

Simon swallows heavy in the silence.

"I hope he arrives in one piece."

He doesn't roll over to face you while the two of you speak, and you don't want him to. You couldn't take the look on his face, you know it.

"I'm sure he will. He's not new to sailing."

"I suppose you'll be staying home tomorrow night - to spend some time with him."

His voice clenches at your heart; absentmindedly you trace patterns on his back, fingers stuttering on the scars that litter him. Your favorite - one that's shaped vaguely like Orion, you trace, feeling the way Simon shutters at the feeling. It takes nearly a full minute for you to speak around the knot in your throat.

"I will have to stay late at home, yes. But I can come here after."

Simon shakes his head, the bed shaking beneath the two of you with the movement.

"He is your fiance; you should spend some time with him."

You can't think of anything you want to do less, but you know he's right, and you know he won't let you do otherwise. So you slip your hands around him, pulling him so that your chest is pressed tightly against his back, and let his breathing lull you to sleep.

He wakes you up earlier than usual to go home the next day.

When you step through the front door of your home, it's still dark outside. The faint sounds of the house sleeping greet you along with the smell of a long extinguished fire. Upstairs it's chilly, your feet freezing almost immediately against the wooden floor. Your first stop is to peek in at Maggie and Lily, each curled up against each other.

Your second is to clean up, to prepare for the day.

By the time everyone is awake, you've done your best to get some sort of breakfast ready. Or at least prepared enough that Maggie and Lily can take over.

"You look horrible," Maggie says, pulling the toast from the fire. Her eyes are dark moons against her skin, her hair still tangled.

"Thank you Maggie, I really appreciate it." Your sarcasm falls flat - she must notice, must know why because she doesn't have a retort for the first time.

"Are you excited?" She asks, pulling an apron around her waist to keep her skirt clean. You pretend to pick the dirt that isn't there from beneath your fingers so that you don't have to meet her pinpoint gaze.

You decide, after fiddling with your thumb for long enough, that there is no reason to lie to her.

"Not in the least bit."

Lily keeps her eyes downcast at the dough she forms roughly - dough for dinner tonight. You know the serving girl will be here later to help with it. Nothing can be spared for Jonathan's arrival. Jonathan who you will march towards in a month. Jonathan who had to know about Uncle Henry, and who couldn't do anything from halfway across the world.

"It could be worse you know, he-"

"Shut up Maggie."

Your words cut through the kitchen; around you the ambient temperature drops. Lily's hands still in her task, but she still doesn't look up at the two of you. Maggie turns to face you with a stiffness that could only be inherited from Mother.

"What did you say to me?" There's fire burning in her eyes, but today you don't care.

"I said shut up," your voice quavers, "you get to marry the man you want. You got a choice in your own life. You want to be a wife and mother. I want differently. I want to travel the world with the man I love, and I can't. So please, just fucking drop it Maggie."

Your eyes plead with her - don't rub in today. Just leave it be.

You don't know if it's the look you give her, or if she finally developed the ability to feel sympathy, but she drops it.

When breakfast is ready, you skip it. Your feet pull you heavily up the stairs and to your bed. Even with the sleep you got the night before, warmed by Simon and held tightly to his side, you crawl into bed, flinching at the cold that attacks you.

You force yourself to sleep.

For the first time in a long time, you have a bad dream.

It is Simon waiting for you at the altar, usually worn out black attire swapped for something new and clean. The flower lined path between the two of you is long, and it seems as if no matter how many steps you take, you can't get any closer. Eventually you start to grow frustrated.

A movement on your right startles you, and you realize your arm is linked with your Father's. He should be walking you towards Simon, but instead he's steadfast. He doesn't look at you; his sight is death upon Simon. When you try to pull your arm away from him, he keeps you glued to your side.

At the altar, Simon's face starts to warp and shift into something more dangerous. He grows almost skeletal, skin paling.

Behind him, the glint of a sword.

You recognize the hit, the cross so delicately affixed on the end. It's his own sword, the one assigned to him when he became the executioner. You try to shout for him, but your Father keeps his iron grip on you - you're too far away for Simon to hear your yell.

When the iron meets blood you wake up.

Your mouth is coated in copper and iron; you've bitten your tongue in your sleep. Between the slots in the shutter, you can tell the sun has shifted drastically. The smell of a roast drifts up to you; at the end of the bed a heavy gown, light blue and new to you, is laid across the foot of the bed. It's an obvious message from Mother on what to wear for the night.

Your legs are lead; trying to stand makes you dizzy and the blood in your mouth makes you want to vomit. The wavy mirror across the room winks at you, projecting back the ragged version of yourself. You frown at it, fingers rubbing your eyes to try to get the haggard look off of your face. But it's futile.

The dress is like water between your fingers; you can only imagine how much it must have cost Mother and Father - how much wasted money trying to impress someone who already agreed to marry you.

The dress is light against your skin - laces pulled tight in the front to keep the neckline from slipping down to low.

You hate blue.

Your favorite color had been red - the red that only showed on the horizon when the sun was setting late in the summer. The red of the berries you and Lily could find in the early fall. But once, you'd arrived at Simon's when he wasn't expecting you; when he answered the door he had a dirty tunic you'd never seen before: forest green and loose around him.

The sight of him in something other than black had changed your entire perspective on the idea of colors.

You know that your face still looks terrible when you arrive downstairs, but everyone has the good graces not to say anything. Instead, they skirt around you - a ghost they’re tired of seeing. Father walks past, boots so freshly shined that you’re sure if you bend down and look, you could see your reflection in them. His waistcoat is looser than you remember it being; you can’t remember the last time he ate a complete dinner.

Maggie’s at the door with Edward; his hand lingers at the small of her back. The sight of them makes you want to hurl - it’s not fair. It’s not -

“Hello.”

Soft air tickles the shell of your ear, causing you to jump and stumble into the wall. A warm, rough hand wraps around your elbow, pulling you away from crashing.

The corner of Jonathan’s eyes crinkle up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up as he looks down at you. The smell of the sea waves off of him: coarse salt and sunshine, blue waves rolling beneath the smooth deck.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, straightening you back up. He must feel how your muscles tense beneath his hand because he drops you, your skin tight where he touched you.

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” it’s the truth, and you don’t need to force yourself to sound pleasant because of it.

“I arrived early, but your little sister said you were sick and asleep,” he holds his hands behind his back as he speaks, spine ramrod straight and the stance reminds you so much of Simon that your stomach aches.

“I was sick earlier, but I feel fine now.”

“You don’t look fine.”

His golden brown mustache twitches when you shoot him a look of venom before you can stop yourself.

"Don't you think that's a rather rude statement to say to a lady you've barely spoken to."

"It would be rude," Jonathan starts, cutting off to nod and Maggie and Edward as they skirt past the two of you to duck into the dining room, "if I lied to you."

"Is that so? I suppose that's some sort of moral code you live by."

Your tone is piercing, but Jonathan doesn't seem to mind. You don't break your stare away from his eyes, surrounded by weatherbeaten wrinkles. The product of months spent burning in the intense sea sun. He steps half a step closer to you, mouth opened to retort, but is cut off by Father.

"Everyone come!"

The sound of chairs scraping on the floor fills the house, but you don't move. Jonathan stays in place beside you, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the dining room. The silence stretches out across the two of you until Father yells at the two of you again. Jonathan gestures for you to go first, he follows so close behind you that you can feel him just at the hem of your dress.

You can tell by the furtive looks that everyone sends you throughout dinner that they're waiting on you to explode and run away again. Everyone but Jonathan, who chats happily with Edward and teases Lily, her small smile shining in the otherwise oppressive room. But the time crawls, and by the time Maggie and Edward stand to excuse themselves from the barren plates in front of them, you're exhausted.

You want to excuse yourself back to bed, and you think you might when Father leans back in his own chair, hands clasped tightly in his lap, and speaks to Jonathan.

"Jonathan I believe my daughter could use some fresh air; her complexion is terrible. Do you mind accompanying her?"

"No Father," you try to deflect, pushing yourself away from the table, "I'm sure Jonathan wants to get home. He must be exhausted."

Across the table, Jonathan studies you with a look you can't fathom. You try to beg him with your eyes to say no to decline the offer, but he doesn't.

"Nonsense," Father says, hand digging into his pocket for his tobacco, "you have a wedding in three weeks and the two of you barely know each other. Go."

His words leave a ringing in your ears; you find yourself moving like a wind up doll, following Jonathan to the door. You flinch away from him when he tries to settle your cloak across your shoulders, but he pulls away, and you take the strings from him.

The darkness is oppressive outside; fog rolls in heavy and pregnant from the sea. The last few villagers skirt around, attempting to avoid the rain that threatens to fall from above. Jonathan sets a leisurely pace, steering the two of you away from the town center. The silence stretches between the two of you, the only sound is the two of your feet against the hard packed dirt.

He steers you towards the pier, his ship bobbing in the distance. The lanterns scurry around the deck, but you can't make out the faces of the men carrying them.

"Where is it you want to sail first?" Jonathan's voice cuts through the wind rolling off of the waves. He keeps a distance between the two of you.

"What?"

"Where do you want to sail first? You are in charge of our path?"

You can't help the mirthless laugh that escapes you, hands clenched so tightly together beneath your cloak that you're losing sensation in your fingertips.

"I am in charge of no path Jonathan. Let's not make a pretense of this entire thing."

He shuffles his feet, boots carving the soft loam beneath the two of you.

"Is that how you feel?"

"It's not how I feel, Jonathan. It's the truth. We can labor under whatever pretense we want, but it's the truth."

You watch his hand come towards you from the corner of your eye, but it barely skirts the curve of your shoulder.

"Is there - is there someone else?"

You can feel his warmth through all the layers of your clothing; it's dangerous you know, to tell him the truth. To betray the secret happiness you and Simon have, but you're so tired of pretending to be someone else. Of pretending that there is nothing between you and Simon. So for once, you let the truth fall from you.

"Yes. There is."

You expect his hand to turn heavy, to dig into the sensitive skin of your shoulder and dash you across the ground. But if anything his hold growls more gently as he steps towards you, chest nearly touching your arm.

"Why don't you refuse - tell your Father you won't marry me. And marry him instead?"

"You're naive," you shrug his hand off, "if you think I have a choice. My Father settled on you, and that is what I have to do. I have no rights except the right to my home, which has to be provided to me by a man."

"And so you are stuck."

His mouth turns down as he speaks, fingers dipping into the neckline of his shirt. He pulls out a flash of a medal, and you recognize it from the one that dangles above you from Simon's neck.

"Let me guess," you cut him off, "you're going to tell me how much you relate to me. How the King and his military took all the choices you had once."

"How did you know?" He asks, letting the cross fall to dangle on his chest.

"You aren't the first person to ever tell me that."

"Was he wrong?"

You think of Simon telling you the same thing, think of the way he's been regulated to his position because of a mistake supposedly made on the battlefield. Of the way the both of you are trapped here under someone else's bootheel.

"He was right, in a way."

You pull yourself away from the image of the ocean, Jonathan following you faithfully. Your feet find the hidden path you and Simon used to walk when he was still Ghost to you.

"I don't suppose," you ask, rounding the farthest house and turning back towards home, "that you are so kind and noble that knowing I belong to someone else, you will tell my Father that you don't wish to marry me anymore."

Jonathan chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

"You don't think that you could grow to love me?"

You measure your words out with the beat of your steps.

"Perhaps in another life, Jonathan."

He doesn't answer your question. The last of the shutters close around the two of you as he walks you home, cloaks swishing over the dirt and cobblestones. Fat, heavy rain drops start to fall, you pull the hood of your cloak up to protect your hair. When the rain starts to fall harder, Jonathan follows suit.

At your front gate, you go to push past him and leave him at the latch, but Jonathan reaches out to stop you. His eyes shine at you from the darkness of his hood as he holds you still, one arm on each elbow.

"For what it's all worth: I am sorry."

You think, as he leans down, that he's going to kiss you, and the thought makes your stomach drop. But instead he presses a single, chaste kiss to your cheek before pulling away. Your skin tingles from where his beard touched your sensitive skin.

The rain starts to fall in a heavy sheet as he brushes past you, back towards where his ship is docked. You're stuck, fingernails digging into the wood of the front gate, and you think you might throw up from the feeling of the world rushing beneath your feet.

It's not until you lift your head, trying to unstick your feet from where you're frozen to the ground, that you catch sight of the looming figure down the street.

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythot, @hearts4sky, @crystallizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0t3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild, @crowsjourney, @c0pernicus, @wistfullyhypomanic, @arbesa-mind, @ray-rook, @daisyfrubies, @september-22-1996

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #my fics #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mwii #like blood on iron

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uunromanticized · 6 months

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Hi I read your Luka hcs and they make me so happy 😀 Is it okay if I can request heDcannons for Luka being in a relationship with Adriens twin sister? She knows about her brother being chat noir and always worries about him and her and Adrian just always hang out (when they are able) on liberty with everyone? Thank you sorry if this was confusing English is a little hard for me !!

hello anon!! i am so so happy to hear that 🥹 everyone makes me so happy when they tell me they like what i write!!! it’s no issue at all, your english is very good i think!! i tried my best, hopefully you enjoy!

luka in a relationship with adriens twin sister

𝒊’𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

while you’re adriens sister, you’re also more than that to luka. you’ve always been more than that to luka.

- you’re very anxiety-prone because you’re on edge due to what your brother did undercover. especially during akuma attacks.

- you’ve shown up on the news before due to being reckless in protection for your twin (people are fed up. like you are the equivalent of alya getting all up in the face of danger for the ladyblog but for your brother)

- whenever luka first meets you he recognizes you for that exact reason. he thinks you’re cool

- adrien randomly drags you away from luka sometimes because you’re his one (1) confidant about his miraculous

- this causes a bit of strain in the early stages of your relationship, but luckily after he finds out adriens identity later he’s understanding about it

- he teaches you breathing exercises to deal with your anxiety when adriens chat noir

- this man has to keep you from your previously mentioned protection escapades. like he gets it but no you cannot go outside the villain is literally throwing cars everywhere.

- you’re just as cheery as your twin, but a little more outgoing and luka immediately noticed that.

- he asked you out after you almost got akumatized (he was stressed)

- speaking of, he was the one who comforted you whenever you just burst into tears over almost getting akumatized. like he had no clue what was going on and you couldn’t say you didn’t want to fight your brother for obvious reasons but he comforted you as best as he could

- him and adrien get along so he goes to him sometimes whenever he needs input on something regarding you

- you drag luka into making plans to try to get a (unknown to them) double date with adrien and marinette

- you have definitely bet on when marinette and adrien would get together because nobody can deny that they will & it’s just a matter of when

- when you win the bet he takes you out for dinner (he definitely would have anyways)

- adrien will sometimes try to sneak luka in as a surprise for you during some of your things like piano lessons (luka has to be Way hidden but you’re just happy he’s there and that makes them both happy)

- you’ve tried to teach luka fencing before and that failed like. miserably. but to be fair luka tried to teach you guitar once and you were bad at that

- he prefers that you’re either out of the house or at his house because he knows the environment at yours

- he loves watching you hang out with everyone & also watching the interactions between you and adrien, he appreciates just watching you show your own ways of platonic and familial love

- invites you over for dinner most nights. sometimes invites adrien too

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dr3amscap3 · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐒 ┊𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐒.

┊Vil Schoenheit x Reader ┊Angst to Fluff ┊In which (Name) and Vil have an argument leading them to not speak for a week. In turn Vil has a nightmare of (Name) dying. ┊Requested by : Anon ┊CW : Angst, Alcohol, Arguments, Death, Nightmares, Injury, & Fluff ┊Note: this fic is inspired by champagne problems by Taylor Swift ┊Word Count: 1313

In all honesty, the fights have never gotten that bad. It should’ve never gotten that bad.

You didn’t know which was worse, perhaps it was the insults he bombarded your way, perhaps it was the champagne glass that he threw in a moment of rage that now lay shattered on the floor, or perhaps it was the silence that held so much grief and guilt in the air.

“(Name).... I... I didn’t mean-- “ Vil had a look in his eyes so distinct, yet so foreign to you, he had a look of grief, a look of guilt, and a look of sorrow. Vil’s hand shakily went up to his mouth to stifle a sob as he saw the terror in your eyes. He watched as you moved to walk out.

He watched, yet he didn’t act.

He should’ve acted, he knows he should’ve, but he can’t anymore, for you were already out the door.

His pocket feels a little heavier now.

One week. Seven days. One hundred sixty-eight hours. That’s how long it’s been since he’s talked to you. Yet still he continues to catch glimpses of you in the bustling crowds of the student body, he continues to see you sitting around campus with a hint of hurt hidden in your eyes.

He continues to stare longingly at you from afar, missing your love for him, regretting how he let your love slip far beyond where he could reach.

And perhaps it was when you moved to walk away from his view... perhaps it was the moment he realized he was never ready to lose you, yet still, he had to watch you go off to a place where he cannot be, of to a place where his heart is not welcome.

In his sorrow, he decides to return to his dorm and pour himself a glass of Dom Pérignon, deciding to drink his problems away. But he supposes he should stop drinking, for this is what had gotten into his mess. He tries to recall what you called this problem of his.

“Ah... right, they called it champagne problems...” Vil lets out a wet bitter chuckle as tears stain his face, he knows he should stop, yet he downs another glass.

Tonight, with a guilt-ridden heart woven from the strings of a broken tapestry that only your hands can mend, he sucks down his pride and gives you a call. Yet to his dismay, it is not your voice that he loves so dearly that answers, instead the voice that answers is foreign, yet it holds an apologetic tone.

“Hello I am a nurse from the Isle of Sages hospital, are you perhaps a relative of (Name) (Last Name)?” The voice, now identified to belong to a nurse, asks.

Vil isn’t a relative of yours, yet he lies through his teeth, desperate to know why a nurse answered his call and not his beloved.

The next words the nurse utters causes Vil to lose his grip on his phone. He can’t hear anything but the ringing of static and white noise. Vil cannot tell if the sounds hurt his ears, he cannot begin to fathom what he feels, he cannot begin to process such sorrow, such pain.

Instead, Vil is speechless, for a man who has given the students of his dorm so many lectures and scoldings he is finally rendered speechless.

He doesn’t even notice as the tears cascade down his face, he doesn’t notice as the tears fall bellow, soaking the carpet on which he stands, he doesn’t notice a sob break free from his lips, he doesn’t notice the way he clutches his chest in despair, he doesn’t notice the way he mutters soft apologies to you, hoping you hear, yet knowing you can’t.

Then he wakes up, his heart pounding profusely, everything felt as if it was closing in on him, everything was hitting him all at once, the guilt, the fear, and the sorrow.

He let out a soft sob as he recalled the nightmare. “A nightmare... it was simply a nightmare...” Vil reassured himself, yet his mind wandered to scenarios in which maybe this wasn’t simply a nightmare, maybe it was a vision or a memory.

So he grabbed a small item and he ran. He ran barefoot to the Ramshackle Dorm, knocking on your door frantically. “(Name), (Name), let me in please...” Vil’s knocks became desperate, yet finally, to his relief, you opened the door, albeit you were still a tad groggy, having just woken up moments ago. Yet Vil didn’t care about appearances, he didn’t care about the fact that you were both still in a fight, he didn’t care. He simply engulfed you in a hug and sobbed, he muttered apologies into your hair.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” Vil continued to sob, his entire being shaking with each gasp of air. “Forgive me (Name), please forgive me.” Vil begged, desperate for your forgiveness, desperate for your love.

“Calm down, my love. It’s alright.” You whispered gently, combing your fingers through his hair, it has always been your way to reassure and calm him.

“You... you died and I... you...” His voice contains hints of fear, sorrow, and guilt. Vil continues to whisper apologies and cling to you.

“Let me stay here... please... I don’t think I can sleep alone tonight...” Vil pleads softly, looking at you with eyes that held so much guilt and apologies that words cannot even begin to describe.

It takes a cruel person to turn away someone who is as vulnerable as Vil is at the moment, and fortunately, you are not a cruel person, you gently usher him inside and pull him into another tight hug.

As you both go up to your room he whispers one last apology to you before you pull him on the bed and take him into your arms gently. Vil was never the type to be held, always fearing for his appearances, yet tonight was different, he needed this, he needed you.

Neither of you could fall asleep, so you both talked, admitted your faults, and uttered apologies, it wasn’t until the break of dawn when Vil finally confessed what he wanted to say that night.

“Marry me.” Vil blurted out boldly. “I was unsure if I wanted to propose that you left, I was unsure if we were both ready, but one week without you had proven that yes I do need you, and yes it was idiotic of me to almost lose you.” Vil admitted, gently holding the ring out.

“I know we will continue to have our fights and our disagreements, I know we won’t always see eye to eye, but I promise I will never let you sit alone and hurt. I promise I will never let another crestfallen look grace your face again, not even for a moment. I promise that if you trust me with your heart once more I will treat it as if it were glass and I would never drop it, not again."

“This life was once a madhouse before you went and changed it for the better, the moment we first met was the moment I knew that it would be your hand that I would always hold when we will be dancing. The moment we met was the moment I knew that you would be the one to mend my shredded tapestry of a heart.”

“So please...” Vil goes down on one knee, “Marry me."

At the nod of your head, a happy sob escapes from Vil’s lips.

“I think I would be fucked in the head if I didn’t say yes.” You say with a smile as Vil chuckles at your words.

You both will always have disagreements from time to time, and sometimes there won’t be a fine answer to those disagreements, yet you both will always try to find a compromise for every problem, even if the problem was something as silly as a champagne problem.

This has been in my drafts for far too long. Decided to finally finish it!!

Tags : @gingeywolfey @luxaryllis @raix-lv @ruru-kiss @blankescapades @deimospheres @gh0stbastard @kiriesdreamworld @hmmmmmm-give-me-your-gender

strikethrough = Cannot tag

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studiodaydream · 1 month

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genuinely, genuinely, in the most neutral way possible: zionism in no way claims that jews control the world. idk where you got that from. all zionism is is the belief that jews should be able to live in their ancestral homeland freely. it's not white supremacy, because not all jews are white. please stop spreading hate ❤️

There is no hate for Jews here, only for White Supremacist ideologylies like Zionism.

I have proof that Israel mutilates, and guns down African Jews, who are not the so called "Evil Muslims" that Zionist love to kill and murder for their land and resources.

Most of this is about Ethiopian Jews but the treatment of Refugees from African Countries is even more so appalling.

You cannot tell me to do my research and all I've found is Racism, Islamophobia, Genocide, Mutilation and Murder.

Talks about a Chosen Race, and Superior Bloodlines and not see the White Supremacy that has plagued America and Europe for hundreds of years.

You can not tell me to do my research about Zionism and tell me I don't know anything only to see that your so called "Jewish Nationalist Independence" came from an Antisemitic British man

So no im not spreading hate, I'm spreading facts about the White Supremacist ideology of Zionism. That believes that it shouldn't be criticized because it's Jewish White Nationalism and it's different from regular White Nationalism and if you compare the two and criticize Israel you're antisemitic and you hate Jews.

Judaism is a non violent religion. Jewish Culture is non violent. What is Violent is Zionism and its settler colonialist aggression towards its neighbors, relentlessly bombing them out of "self defense" well the world is watching what youre so called "self defense" looks like.

It looks like dead babies left in hospitals that have been bombed

youtube

Isreal's "self defense" looks like a father asking for help with his child, as his dead child's REMAINS are stuffed in bags and yet he begs for help

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Joudie Kalla - جودي القلا 🧿 (@palestineonaplate)

instagram

Israel's self defense looks like White Phosphorus being dropped on innocent civilians

https://youtu.be/geqdxdNEToU?si=js5ZGZC4eajY7uO2

These links show that Israel is not only a White Supremacist Nation like its parents The US and UK but also that Zionism is a White Supremacist Ideology.

I am not spreading hate Anon, I am spreading facts. To deny these facts is to spread hate. To deny that Israel is not a criminal empire and is simply "defending its right to exist" is to spread hate.

Antisemitism is on the rise and it's not because of people like me Anon is it because of Israel and Zionist Settler Colonialist Aggression towards the Palestinians and towards its Arab Neighbors. Israel denies the Nakba and that it stole land at all claiming that "no one lived here before we came" a "empty land with no people". Well there were people and those people had neighbors who saw what Zionist did to their defenseless neighbor with the backing of terrorist countries like the US and the UK. Terrorist Nations that destabilized and murdered millions in 3 separate nations in their "War on Terror".

White Supremacy has no ally on this blog, including Zionism.

If you want to unfollow me go ahead. I will not be swayed by Zionist Propaganda that this is all in "defense" of Jewish Nationhood, and how the only way to "defend" Jewish Nationhood is to invade other countries and murder other people who look different from them because they are the "Chosen People".

We've heard it all before, when the Europeans said they were bringing "civilization" to Africa and the Americas by enslaving our people and stealing our land and resources. When America had its "Manifest Destiny" which led to the genocide of countless Native Americans and the stealing of their land and resources. To Nazi Germany and the "Superior Ayan Race" which killed millions and invaded other nations killing millions of more.

You might be familiar with that last one, the Holocaust. Where millions of Jews were brutally and systematically murdered. But not only Jews but Black Europeans, Romanian Immigrants and LGBTQ Europeans.

But it seems like Israel has forgotten history because it does not treat African Jews equally to its European Jews and is actively Hostile to Refugees from African countries. While committing Genocide against the Palestinians as I type this out.

So if you're reading this I implore you to donate if you can or spread awareness of what's happening in Gaza

https://buildpalestine.com/2021/05/15/trusted-organizations-to-donate-to-palestine/

And your daily clicks

https://arab.org/click-to-help/

Do not allow Zionist to call you antisemitic for calling them out on their lies.

Palestine will be Free, From the River to the Sea

#from the river to the sea #palestine will be free #free palestine #free free palestine #free gaza #jews for palestine #palestinian genocide #support palestine #never again #means never again for everyone

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robynrocksforbrains · 9 months

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What do you think about the whole Mike was only so protective of Will in S2 because El was gone thing? Do you think he’s going to ignore Will again in S5 and be super focused on El? I’ve seen recent discourse about this and it’s making me sad.

Anon, full disclosure I haven't seen this discourse recently. But I'm gonna take your word for it and tell you what I think. This is gonna be kinda long because I am incapable of being normal.

I think anyone who thinks that this is the case has a very very poor understanding of Mike. And also a poor understanding of literally the entirety of s2 and s4.

Mike cares about Will, and he cares about El. It's possible for him to care about both of them at the same time. The only reason he has a hard time balancing his relationship with both of them is because he's denying the true nature of his feelings for both of them. With El, he's trying to convince himself that his platonic feelings are romantic. With Will, he's trying to convince himself that his romantic feelings are platonic. It is my belief that he is fully aware of his romantic feelings for Will, and his lack thereof for El. But being aware of something and accepting something are two different things. However, by the end of s4 I think it's clear he's headed in the direction of acceptance.

So, about s2:

Mike is protective of Will because he's protective of Will. Simple as that. His fierce protectiveness of Will is established in s1.

We see it when Hopper is first questioning the boys about the last time they saw Will. Mike is insistent that he wants to be there. He doesn't just wanna help by answering questions, he wants to be out there actively searching.

We see it when he defends Will against the comments Nancy and Ted make about him at the dinner table. "All because Mike's friend got lost in the woods" "oh so this is Will's fault?" // "See what happens?" "What happens when what?"

We see it when he is the one to plan to go out to where Will's bike was found and search the woods.

We see it when he confronts Troy after the assembly and pushes him down

Mike being protective of Will in s2 is just a continuation of an already established trait. We just didn't see it in the same way in s1 because Will wasn't there. In s1 it was almost like Mike was being protective of an idea, but in s2 he's being protective of a real and tangible thing. He's not just protecting the belief and hope that Will is still out there, he's protecting WILL.

And that isn't because El is gone, his protectiveness of Will persisted throughout s1. El was there and he was still protective of Will. So El's absence cannot be a cause of his protectiveness of Will. However, the intensity of it was likely influenced by the events of the previous year, which would include watching El "die". But his behavior regarding Will definitely has more to do with what happened to Will than with what happened to El.

I think that if El was present in s2, he still would've been just as protective of Will. Because that's just who he is.

Now, about s5:

He's not going to ignore Will in favor of El. Anyone who thinks that definitely just blatantly ignored his entire s4 arc.

I mean, Mike and Will's s4 arcs were almost entirely dedicated to fixing the damage that s3 did to their relationship. Mike apologizes to Will for how he acted since he got to Lenora, but there's also a sense that he's apologizing for more than that. He says "this last year". He's not mentioning anything specific, but we know what happened. Will knows what happened. And although it still should be, and likely will be, explicitly addressed, this is a start.

I kinda think that the "cool" "cool" scene is when Mike starts to prove to the audience that he's worth Will's love. Because if s3 didn't happen, I don't think there would be doubts. If s2 Mike was also s3 Mike, I don't think anyone would be saying "Will deserves better". But s3 did happen. I love Mike, but he did mess up. He did treat Will like shit. And that should be acknowledged by the characters and by the plot. So when Mike apologizes for his behavior, and subtly addresses s3, and then Will decides that it's worth it to bring his painting - which is a declaration of love - it's a confirmation that this was a turning point for Mike. This isn't a fluke. Mike wants to be better, and he's trying to be better, and that's going to continue for the rest of the season, and it will carry into s5. This conversation, which marks a real change for Mike, includes the line "I have no idea what's gonna happen next. But whatever it is, I think it'll be easier if we're together. A team. Friends. Best friends." And then Will makes the decision to bring what is a plot device for byler's development specifically. Like it's pretty clear what behavior the plot is rewarding.

"I think maybe I was worrying too much about El... And I don't know maybe I feel like I lost you or something" is worth mentioning here because not only is this Mike explicitly stating that his s3 behavior was a deviation from the norm for him, but also the plot rewards this confession. It rewards Mike's vulnerability (although tentative) in this moment. Mike's vulnerability is returned tenfold in the van scene. And since we know Mike's vulnerability was rewarded, it only makes sense for the same to be true for Will's. The painting is the catalyst, Will's vulnerability (although veiled) has to be rewarded by the plot.

And then again, in their last scene together, Mike reaffirms that they're a team. Yeah, you can say that when he says "we will" he's referring to everyone involved. But he says this while firmly grasping Will's shoulder. He wants Will to know he's here, and he's not going anywhere. Yes, it's about everyone, but underneath that there's a sort of desperation for Will to believe him. He's determined to live up to what he said in Dear Billy. He wants them to be a team. So when he says "we" he means everyone involved, but there's an unspoken "you and me".

AND THEN AGAIN, in the final shot, they're together. But more than that, Mike makes a CHOICE to stay by Will's side. He's there because he wants to be with Will. Nothing is stopping him from walking to stand by El's side. But he doesn't do that. He stays with Will because he told Will they were a team and he meant it. I could go on and on about what this means from a storytelling perspective. About how there is obvious thought put into using this to tell the audience what to expect. But from a character perspective, thinking of Mike as a real human with his own thoughts and motivations, it's clear what he's thinking in this moment. They're facing something terrifying, and he knows exactly where he wants to be while he faces it, and that's by Will's side. This scene is undoubtedly foreshadowing for s5, and it's very reasonable to conclude that it means his priority will be Will.

TL;DR Mike was protective of Will in s2 because that's just what is natural for him. And his priority in s5 is going to be Will, because that's what s4 very deliberately set up.

#this is a very summarized version of my thoughts on this specific topic #i meant it when i said i am incapable of being normal #i really could go on and on and on #but i wont #byler #byler endgame #mike wheeler #will byers

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doberbutts · 7 months

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hey can i ask you a question about this post of yours? (tumblr.com/doberbutts/731905953004437504)

in your response to the weird anon, you linked this al jazeera article/video (aljazeera.com/news/2023/10/19/what-hit-ahli-hospital-in-gaza) and said that it's "saying it probably wasn't intentional and it probably was a missile that originated in Gaza." however, i watched the video recently and it seems to me that what it says at the end was that the claim that it was a gazan misfire was false. am i just misinterpreting it?

(to be clear, im only talking about the first paragraph of your answer to the anon in that one post, not about any of the posts or any of the people harassing you)

It's like. Right there in the article. Al Jazeera does not think it was a misfire and believes it did originate in Gaza but was shot down by Israel's Iron Dome, which I also fielded as a possibility. Israel says it was a misfire of a missle coming from Gaza. The CNN article I read that morning discussed both possibilities. In either case, yes, it was probably not an intentional hit and was probably a missle that originated in Gaza, because that is the commonality between both sides.

When you are dealing with a huge potential for propaganda, the best course of action is to find what remains consistant no matter who tells it. Those two things- that the hospital was simply guilty of being in the way and not an intentional target, and that the missle seems to have originated from somewhere in Gaza- remain consistant even in pro-Palestinian news. The other thing that remains consistant is that Israel told the hospital to evacuate- but the 'why' changes based on who says it and that is harder to prove.

This is like. How to Not Fall For Propaganda 101. You cannot take snippets and social media posts and headlines and just run with them. You have to actually investigate what is being said and who it benefits by saying it.

The other piece is- how to tell truth from blatant lies. In the example of the hospital, a lot of my weird anon pushback has been relying on the idea that the hospital was instantly levelled- in fact they said that more than once as proof that it had to be Israel. However... the structures received fairly minimal damage, as the bulk of the damage was to the parking lot and cars within, and there was no instant levelling of any building. We have photographic evidence produced from many sources that show exactly that. So... if that source is relying on a lie such as "the hospital was instantly levelled" when it is very proveable that the buildings are still standing, what other things are they lying about or exaggerating?

In another example, the claim that Hamas beheaded babies originated from a handful of specific Israeli soldiers, who are already known to be an untrustworthy source. When challenged to produce evidence of this claim, both Israel and the US walked back the claim. Always ask for evidence, and if the reaction is anything besides actually providing evidence... then the claim was probably bunk to begin with. In this case the reaction was initially "trust me bro" and then "how dare you ask me to do this because [excuse]" and then "okay yeah it's not true".

Lastly, use logic. Let's say Israel did bomb the hospital. Well they missed any actual buildings and we know they have good enough aim to hit whatever building they're aiming for because they *have* hit hospitals and other civilian buildings on purpose in the past. It left a 3ft crater in the parking lot and burned up a bunch of cars. Well either that one was a dud or it was their own misfire because we also know the concussive force of their munitions should produce more damage. Ironically, that's one of Israel's arguments that they didn't do it, that if it was one of theirs the death total would be higher and the hospital would have been obliterated. Again, based on what we know of civilian buildings they've hit on purpose, we know that's not an inaccurate statement.

At the same time, what good would it have done anyone in Palestine to deliberately hit their own hospital? And, again, if they were actually aiming for the hospital... they missed because they hit the parking lot. If anyone wanted to actually hit the hospital, one of the buildings would have been the better target. And yet, all of the buildings remain standing with relatively minor damage because the thing blew up well away from any standing structure. I do find it interesting that no matter what Israel's story is- which has changed multiple times because again, known untrustworthy source, none of them that I've heard have said that it was a deliberate attack on the hospital from Palestine either. Likely because they know that there is no logical reason for Palestine to attack a Palestinian hospital, and bullshit would be called immediately if they tried.

Lastly, the reason I'm looking for commonaiity and not just picking a single source to listen to is because journalists have reported getting shot at and blown up and their media signalling ignored, and if journalists are getting targetted and killed, that means less journalists are going to show up to try and figure it out because they also don't want to die, which means there is a significantly higher likelihood for propaganda and incredibly biased reporting to spread like wildfire.

Most of this type of thing relies on a grain of truth and then spins an almost plausible lie that finishes with an appeal to emotion. I think it would benefit everyone to research propaganda and how it works and how to identify it and how to combat it from taking root in your sourcing. I also think it would benefit everyone to learn how to research and challenge sources in the first place. I remember doing this in school where any strong opinion paper had to also have an accompanying paper arguing *against* it, written by the same person, so you could better learn how to identify where you may have fallen for propaganda that you happened to agree with and thus didn't research further.

Finally,

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starsomens · 8 months

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hi ✨ i know that usually you’re the one that gets the prompts and writes on them but can i just give my two cents on the recent events regarding noah’s behavior on tour because there’s literally no one i can discuss this with, so naturally i need to share and i feel like this here is a safe and fun space to do that.

i know how everyone has this image of what noah’s like in a relationship or in bed or whatever and that’s okay, we can all imagine and that’s what i’m here do to today, but you CANNOT tell me this man is not fucked, foul and twisted because

1. breathing into the mic AUDIBLY right after the “the way you fuck, the way you taste” lyric is nothing close to innocent and i am pretty sure he knows what he’s doing

2. spitting in the air after “so i can look you in the eye when i spit in your face” NUMEROUS times. i’m just gonna say that he knows. spitting is spicy and he knows.

3. that devilish grin he gave right before the growl in dethrone in Austin. uhm. yeah, sadistic, sick and twisted.

also this man feeds off of dark shit. he has said it himself a couple of times. when it comes down to anime, he loves watching the really dark stuff. we know he works on the aesthetics of the band a lot and the primary colors are black, red and grey. the visuals are dark. carrying an axe around a dark hallway? wearing a ski mask for fun? and all black outfits all the time? man loves horror movies as well. im positive he’d be down to chase you down an alley wearing a mask and carrying a knife, ghostface style.

also keeping his composure and having a really cool aura and being quiet while also sounding firm and diplomatic. SCREAMS dom. but like a pleasure dom cause we know he’s the clitmaster3000.

oh yeah, i’m not even gonna mention the fact that he lowered his voice when he said “good. GOOD JOB” when he asked the crowd to make a line for the mosh pit. mans got a praise and degradation kink and no one can tell me otherwise. he loves control and he loves exercising it in all ways possible.

okay, thanks. sorry if that was too much but i can’t stop thinking about it and it makes SO MUCH sense in my head and i need to know if somebody else is gonna agree with me. bye 🦦

I am gonna make you 🦦anon

MAAM OR SIR I AGREE THANK YOU FOR YOUR 2 CENTS YOUR DONATION IS APPRECIATED

But honestly this is what I’m saying HE KNOWS! MAN KNOWS WHAT HES DOING! Because I’ve had some people here say that they know about the fan fic, so he BEEN KNOW what makes us tic! I mean look at the video of him leaning over the crowd (not knowing exactly what he was doing) BUT HE KNOWS THE EFFECT! H knows what we’re into and what makes us go wild! IM TELLING YOU. But I’m telling you it’s kinda scary how DOMINANT he can be but also like super super super calm and collected about it. He gets his fill of power from it but super controlled about it as well and THAT makes it a bit scary but also 🌝

Clitmaster 3000 IM DEAD I LOVE IT! Also you and I must be the same person because I was about to write a small thought on him being a pleasure Dom! HE SCREAMS IT! And I have said before he keeps the mask on during sex 🤠 GIRL WE SHARING THE SAME BRAIN CELL RN CUZ I CAN SEE ALL OF THIS. Hopefully my writing can improve so I can write something that rlly expressed this out if the opportunity comes up.

#🦦 anon #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #star’s anons✨

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kidstemplatte · 5 months

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I know you must be so busy rn, but could we get some headcannons/ little fic about Terzo with his kids on Christmas

dad! terzo during the holidays headcanons🎁🎄

tysm for your request, anon! i hope this is close to what you wanted! please enjoy<3

◇ i like to imagine the clergy decorates for the holiday season, i’m not sure what exactly they’d celebrate since i’m no expert regarding theistic satanism (i need my art school anon to help me with this one 🤍) but i think they would do some of the christmas-esque stuff just for the fun of it

◇ i imagine their decor is a nice fun mix of spooky and sweet, or more of a witchy vibe.

◇ i headcanon that they’re in sweden, which means there’s snow outside!!! terzo doesn’t like the cold, since he’s from italy haha but his kids loooooove playing in the snow so he sticks it out for them!

◇ he gets all wrapped up in like 1000 layers because he’s a big old baby, definitely not dramatic at all.

◇ but also he makes his kids do the same, he’s very protective and wants to make sure his kids don’t freeze!

◇ honestly i think terzo’s the kind of dad who would make up an urban legend to scare his kids into wearing proper winter gear…💀 they’re SPRINTING to get inside after he tells them about the monster who eats little children who don’t wear their gloves…

◇ do not take terzo ice skating because his ass will fall down over and over and over again. but on second thought, it makes the kids laugh, so maybe do take him.

◇ terzo cannot wrap presents. he is so bad at it. he has to ask the ghouls or one of his brothers to do it. but this also means he really appreciates the artistry of gift-wrapping.

◇when he gets a gift of any kind he always wriggles his fingers and goes “for me?” like you’ve just bestowed a treasure upon him.

◇ he will absolutely melt if his kids give him a gift of any kind, a homemade card or even just a cool rock one of them found. he will keep it forEVER.

◇ if there’s an elf on the shelf or some kind of satanic equivalent, terzo is leaving it in the funniest fucking places. then he sits around waiting for his kids’ reactions because he loves hearing them laugh.

◇ but it’s not just for the kids- it’s for his own amusement as well. you can bet that elf is going on nihil’s grave.

◇ every christmas eve eve (december 23rd muahaha) terzo watches nightmare before christmas with his kids.

◇ terzo’s favorite christmas movie is home alone, but he has to give the kids a disclaimer before they watch because they’re little troublemakers and they WILL get ideas from all the traps and shenanigans.

◇ i don’t know about anyone else, but i always had a hard time as a kid falling asleep on christmas eve because i was so excited. i imagine terzo’s kids are the same way haha, so he reads them stories until they fall asleep.

◇ terzo doesn’t care much about his kids believing in santa until they tell him they don't. because to terzo, that’s a challenge.

◇ initially, he wants to dress up as santa himself, but he knows the kids are smart enough to find out it’s him. so he has to outsource his work. (he makes omega dress up as santa and put the gifts terzo made him wrap under the tree. omega gets a raise.)

◇ the kids are getting whatever they ask for btw. it’s typically nothing too unreasonable because they’re raised well haha.

◇ if the kids want to leave food out for santa, terzo’s using it as an excuse to order a fancy ass hundred dollar meal and eat it at 3 am. santa’s getting steak made with wagyu beef and a nice glass of wine.

◇ i hc that terzo can cook but he can’t bake for shit, (i have a fic i’ve been wanting to finish for so long about that) so primo makes the kids gingerbread cookies (he has an extensive cookie cutter collection) and they’re all decorated super fun lol.

◇ also in my mind the clergy is a huge piece of property with a forest behind it, and in this forest there are deer! so before the sun sets on the night of christmas eve terzo takes the kids to leave food for the deer as fuel for their upcoming flight :,)

└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

that’s it yall!!! happy holidays and tysm for your request anon!!! i rlly hope u liked it!! i have more stories coming soon i can’t wait to share!!

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus iii #terzo #papa emeritus #papa terzo #papa emeritus x reader #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #dad! terzo

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respectthepetty · 2 months

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Hii, i have been occupied and wanted to come back to watch BLS, my last one was naughty babe. So what's are your current obsession!?

Anon, you have missed a lot in the last six months! BL Land has had several shows in that time, and, of course, I've consumed most of them. My capability to become obsessed with a show is unparalleled, and as I mentioned in my last obsession list, I can be obsessed about several things simultaneously. Since you've been out for a minute, let me recap some of the shows I sent a Valentine's Day card too.

Note: These are NOT recommendations.

Shows I liked for color reasons but wasn't obsessed:

Twins

Pit Babe

Middleman's Love

My Dear Gangsta Oppa

Bake Me Please (* I AM obsessed with the lead actor, Guide)

Shows I liked for the colors AND the plot but wasn't always obsessed with:

The Sign

Perfect Propose

I Cannot Reach You

7 Days Before Valentine

I Became a Lead in a BL Drama

Shows I should've been obsessed with if I was normal:

Cooking Crush

Love for Love's Sake

Cherry Magic (Thailand)

So now that we recapped some of the shows I was mildly normal about, it's time for me to reveal the shows I'm currently so obsessed with that I cut off some of their hair while they slept and now I'm attaching it to a cloth doll in hopes of binding us together.

For. Ev. Ah.

Dead Friend Forever (forever, forever, ever, forever, ever?)

Obsession Level - Buying us matching BFF necklaces with vials of our blood attached to them after my therapist tells me my relationship with it is unhealthy, and I need to take a step back from it.

It just ended, and it isn't a BL, but I have no words. If I tried to explain why I'm so obsessed with this show, people would be really worried about my sanity. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to stop thinking about it. I hate all the characters. I love all the characters. I want them all dead. I want to raise them from the dead and make them do it all again. I want to heal them. I want to make them worse. I want to be in that house with them.

Unknown

Obsession Level - Holding pictures of it close to my heart while I lay in bed even though it is laying right next to me in the same bed because I need it to fully grasp just how crazy about it I am and have been.

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about "brothers." And if you looked at my previous obsessed list, you know those three items are a clear path to Obsession City for me (Looking at you, Kiseki: Dear to Me).

Anti Reset

Obsession Level - Baking all its favorite sweet treats and sitting them on its porch early in the morning then running away even though I know the security camera is filming me each time (which is why I wear cute outfits when I do it).

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about a robot. It doesn't hit all the points on my obsession scale, but it's part of Vidol/VBL's universe, so it has my attention and a little bit of my heart.

Lady Boy Friends

OB. SESSED! Level - Knowing it's expired and toxic, but I can't stop eating it because if ending up in the hospital is the price I have to pay and possible death, then I guess that's the sacrifice I gotta make.

It's a remake of a 2015 series, it dropped with no promo, and only one episode has aired, yet this show is hellbent on being a whole ass problem, so of course my trashy ass loves it. There is transphobia, homophobia, sexual harassment, colorism, elitism, and every other -ism that it could pile in because the entire show is begging to be everyone's trigger warning. There is a love story in there somewhere, but I don't give two shits about it when the skinny femmes and the fat femmes are fighting, and the one pictured above is about to enter her villain origin story. The subtitler is doing the Lord's work, and I feel truly blessed with this hot ass mess.

But please remember, one person's trash taste is not another person's treasure, so THESE ARE NOT RECOMMENDATIONS!

#my current obsessions #dead friend forever and ever and ever ever #unknown #anti reset #lady boy friends #NOT RECOMMENDATIONS #I'm trash and I know it

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 1 year

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I’m trying to come back to Christianity after deconstructing and your blog has been a great help to me, but I still struggle with the phrase “Jesus died for our sins.” I feel like it places undue responsibility on people who had nothing to do with his death. How is it possible that he died for my sins when I didn’t even exist 2,000 years ago?? Or am I taking the phrase too literally?

Hey there, I feel you! I know of so many people who, especially as young children, were made to feel a lot of guilt over the idea that "Jesus died for your sins." And that's a problem, especially seeing as Jesus came to liberate us from our guilt, and to invite us into full and mutual relationship with him.

While the dominant Christianities that exist in our culture/s right now don't like to acknowledge it, there have always been many different ways of understanding what happened on the cross and how salvation "works." So if this phrasing does harm rather than good for you, there are many other ways to understand salvation!

One that resonates most with me is a view of salvation that doesn't focus solely upon what happened on the cross, but instead takes the entire Incarnation into account. In her book Inspired (which is such a fabulous read, especially for folks working to reconnect with Christianity & scripture), Rachel Held Evans sums this idea up well:

Jesus didn’t just “come to die.” Jesus came to live—to teach, to heal, to tell stories, to protest, to turn over tables, to touch people who weren’t supposed to be touched and eat with people who weren’t supposed to be eaten with, to break bread, to pour wine, to wash feet, to face temptation, to tick off the authorities, to fulfill Scripture, to forgive, to announce the start of a brand-new kingdom, to show us what that kingdom is like, to show us what God is like, to love his enemies to the point of death at their hands, and to beat death by rising from the grave. Jesus did not simply die to save us from our sins; Jesus lived to save us from our sins. His life and teachings show us the way to liberation. But you can’t fit all that on a bumper sticker.

For God so loved the world, They took on human flesh. Jesus's whole life was lived in love for us, for you — all the joys and connections that contained, not just the pain and death.

___

Another thing that I always stress, and that you point out in your ask, is that we have to be careful when we discuss who's responsible for Jesus's death. Otherwise we end up with people blaming Jewish people, or scared little kids, or even God for his death.

Ultimately, it was human beings in a very specific context, and imbued with systemic power, who enabled and carried out his execution: Roman soldiers acting on behalf of the Roman Empire. Jesus died because corrupt human powers cannot stand for the Good News of liberation and abundant life for all peoples. He died in ultimate solidarity with all who are similarly oppressed or executed across history.

___

It's reeeally long so sorry in advance, but if you're interested in an exploration of theologies of the cross, I've got a YouTube video on the topic! If you don't have the time or inclination to watch it all, the parts I most recommend for you are:

(13:01 - 21:54) Delores Williams & Historical Consequence — paying attention to real-world impact; don't use cross to justify suffering

(1:21:41 - 1:27:00) Theologies that look at Jesus' whole life, not just death, starting with Jesus as Moral Influence/Exemplar

1:42:54 - 2:00:00) The Cross as Solidarity — Christ becomes one with all who suffer unjust / systemic violence — on the cross, God knows godforsakeness — good news for oppressors as well as oppressed

If you check out the PowerPoint linked in the video notes, you'll also find links and resources in that :)

Finally, you might want to wander through my #crucifixion tag or #sin tag for more related to your question.

Wishing you well on your journey, anon! May the Spirit of Love guide you into healing and wholeness <3

#new to christianity #<not really but this is good info for folks who are new / reconnecting #theologies of the cross #salvation #jesus died for you #crucifixion #incarnation

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rubysunnday · 2 years

Text

deathless death

requested by @magpiencrow: take me to church with benny boy <3this would absolutely kill me lottie

requested by anon: I love your writing!!! Can I request a benedict Bridgerton x reader where she has an accident of some sorts, like Kate falling off the horse??! I wonder how Benedict would act instead of Anthony. <33333

requested by anon: in desperate need more for your benedict bridgerton x reader fics please!

a/n: no, i'm not writing a part two

summary: no matter how beautiful a day is, horrible things can still happen and people can still die

"Mr Bridgerton."

"Miss Wallace, what a pleasant surprise."

"Oh, please, Mr Bridgerton, you knew exactly where I was going to be," Y/N said, smiling at him. "I ride this route almost every day."

"Do you? I had not noticed."

Y/N smiled and chuckled. Benedict slowed his horse down, riding alongside her.

Hyde Park had always been a pleasant spot to ride. Wide open fields, beautiful lakes - it was perfect. Of course, Benedict knew Y/N rode this route almost every day - he'd been watching her for weeks whilst he took his own walks.

It'd only been today that he'd decided to saddle up his horse and join her. Benedict had wanted to get to know Y/N better for a long while - having eyed her since she'd arrived at the start of the season. They'd begun to bond over painting and art in general - Benedict had felt a connection with her ever since they'd stood in front of a Beerstraaten and talked in detail about the castle pictured.

"Do you ride often, Mr Bridgerton?" Y/N asked, turning her head to face Benedict.

"Not as often as I used to," Benedict admitted. "Painting takes up most of my time, nowadays. Yourself?"

"I try to get out as much as I can. It helps me relax and frees my thoughts." She paused, not sure if she could say what she wanted to.

"This is a safe space, Miss Wallace," Benedict reassured her. "I will not tell anyone."

"The pressures of society and finding a match," Y/N said quietly, "can become very overwhelming. Everyone's eyes are on you, waiting to see who you will marry and whether your future will be successful."

"I cannot imagine how exhausting that must be," Benedict replied, his gaze soft.

Y/N shrugged gently. "It comes with being a lady. Now, you simply must tell me more about your paintings."

Benedict went riding with Y/N almost every day after that. Their conversation had opened a door between them and they grew closer. Y/N often searched Benedict out at balls, wanting to spend her night with a friend rather than a stranger.

But spending time outdoors with him was what she enjoyed most.

Sundays were the best day for riding. No one else was ever around - often sleeping off whatever party or ball had happened the night before. Y/N had started off her ride alone - she'd seen how much Benedict had drunk the night before and wasn't expecting him to be awake let alone dressed.

"Miss Wallace!"

Y/N stopped her horse and turned. She smiled widely as Benedict cantered up to her, slowing his horse down to a walk as he got closer.

"Mr Bridgerton! I was not expecting you!"

"Well, here I am!" Benedict said, returning her smile. "Unlike my brothers, I can hold my drink."

"Oh, of course," Y/N said, nodding. "I never doubted you."

Benedict chuckled. "Shall we?"

The two urged their horses on into a gentle walk. A comfortable silence fell over them as they rode through the park, the early morning call of the birds keeping them company.

The sun was just beginning to rise and it was clearly going to be another beautiful day.

"Lady Whistledown has been writing about us a lot recently," Y/N began, fiddling with her reins.

"I read. Eloise won't stop teasing me about it," Benedict muttered.

"I apologise if I am an inconvince to you, Mr Bridgerton."

"No, no, I did not mean -" Benedict cut himself off, mid ramble. He looked at Y/N, noticing her smile as she tried to stifle her laughter. "Oh, you are cruel."

"I am sorry," Y/N said, laughing. "I find it hilarious that your sister is teasing you. Besides, ever since she started writing about us, I have had more suitors."

Benedict accidentally jabbed the heel of his boot into the side of his horse, startling the poor creature. "Pardon?"

"Oh, Mr Dorset came round yesterday morning with some flowers, Mr Carter followed after him with a box of chocolates and a book - I danced four times last night! I have not danced as much since I debuted."

Benedict clenched his jaw, jealously growing inside him. "Oh, I see."

Y/N glanced at him. "Is that jealously I detect, Mr Bridgerton?"

"No, not at all, Miss Wallace." Y/N raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps a little bit."

"I see," Y/N giggled, "well, we all know what the resolution to that is."

Benedict raised his own eyebrows, watching her intently. Y/N moved ahead slightly, her horse neighing excitedly as they reached the open field, smelling the river that ran alongside it.

"For my sake, what is the resolution to my problem?" Benedict asked, stopping his horse.

"Oh, Mr Bridgerton, surely you do not need me to explain it to you?" Y/N asked, her tone teasing. She giggled again. "Well, perhaps if you beat me, I shall explain."

Y/N threw her head back as she laughed, urging her horse into a canter. Benedict smiled, chucking to himself as she rode off.

A deer burst out from the woods, racing across the field in front of Y/N and her horse.

Benedict could see it happen before it actually did.

Y/N's horse squealed and bolted, darting to the right, toward the river. Y/N tried to calm him, to slow him down. But then her horse tripped on a stone on the river bank and reared backwards, neighing loudly.

Y/N lost her grip on the horse, displaced by the sudden movement. She fell backwards from the horse, falling to the floor. Benedict could've sworn he heard her head hit the rock. The rest of her body made no effort to stop its impact with the floor.

Benedict was frozen for a moment. He stared at Y/N's body, willingfor her to get up and move.

"Y/N!" Benedict shouted, urging his horse on, desperate to reach her side.

He jumped off his horse before it'd properly stopped, running to Y/N's side and falling down next to her. His hands hovered over her for a moment, unsure if he should touch her or not.

Benedict moved his hand, putting it under Y/N's head, trying to lift it off the rock it'd collided with. He pulled it away, his heart dropping at how much blood was on his hands.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that this amount of blood was never a good thing.

"Stay with me, please," Benedict whispered, his shaking hands brushing back her hair. "Please, God."

Somehow, Benedict managed to get Y/N into his arms, being careful to support her head against his shoulder, and onto his horse. He rode as fast as he dared, back to the one place he knew was safe.

Benedict abandoned his horse at the gated to Bridgerton House, taking Y/N in his arms. He carried her up to the front door, ignoring the wide eyed looks the footman gave him as he walked up to them, blood staining his white shirt and his hands. He'd given Y/N his jacket and had used his cravat to try and staunch the bleeding and was in nothing but his waistcoat.

He walked into the house, the maids bustling around as they always did in the mornings.

"Someone fetch the doctor!" Benedict yelled as they all stopped and stared. "Quickly!"

Mrs Wilson was the first one to react. She ushered the maids into action, demanding they fetched blankets, towels and waked Anthony. She guided Benedict up the stairs, a gentle hand on his back.

"What happened?" She asked, ushering him down the corridor.

"She fell off her horse and hit her head on a rock," Benedict explained, his voice shaking. "There was so much blood, I tried to stop it."

"You did what you could," Mrs Wilson reassured, opening the guest bedroom door. "Rose, put this towel on the pillows. Mr Bridgerton, lay her down gently and help me take her jacket off."

Mrs Wilson had worked with the family long enough to know when they would do as they're told and when they wouldn't. Benedict was clearly besotted with the woman and wasn't going to be leaving her side.

"What happened?" Anthony asked, bursting into the room, looking at Y/N, lying on the bed. "Jesus - has the doctor been called for?"

"He has," Mrs Wilson said, taking Y/N's jacket and putting it on a nearby chair. "Along with the surgeon." She walked up to Anthony. "Lord Bridgerton, he's in shock. Someone should really take him down to the kitchen and give him some tea and wash the blood off his hands."

"I'll do it," Anthony said firmly. He glanced over at Benedict. "He looks like he might pass out. Let me know when the doctor arrives, Mrs Wilson."

Anthony walked over to Benedict and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Benedict flinched slightly, swaying to the side.

"Brother, come on. We must make room for the surgeon, I know you do not want to leave her but we must."

Benedict nodded, a distant expression on his face. He took one step forward and lost his balance, falling into Anthony's side.

"Benedict?" Anthony asked, holding him up. "Brother? Come on. Colin, stop loitering and come help."

Colin walked into the room, giving Y/N a passing glance. He took Benedict's other arm and helped Anthony practically carry him out the room.

Benedict didn't remember how he got from Y/N's deathbed to Anthony's office. One minute he was staring at her pale face and the next he was having a glass of whiskey forced into his hand.

Colin sat on the arm of the chair, pressed up against Benedict. Anthony was stood in front of him, watching Benedict with concern.

"She will be alright, brother," Anthony said softly, tapping his boot with his own.

Benedict stared down at the liquid in his glass. "If I could I'd give her my life." He looked up at his brother. "I'd switch places with her in a heartbeat.".

The room was dark despite the bright sunshine trying to shine through the curtains. Benedict was sat by Y/N's bedside, his sketchbook open on his lap. He'd drawn nothing in the week since her accident. Every time he picked up his pencil or charcoal, he put it down five minutes later.

Y/N had remained in Bridgerton House since the accident - the doctor's unwilling to let her be moved to her parent's house four miles down the road. Benedict had hardly left her side.

He could almost pretend she was simply asleep. The gentle rise and fall of her chest reassured him that she was still alive. He just wanted her to open her eyes and smile at him again. But they stayed closed, her hands resting on her stomach.

Benedict sighed quietly and closed his sketchbook, placing it on the edge of the bed. He stood up from his chair and walked up to the head of the bed, perching on the edge, next to Y/N.

"I would give you my life if I could," he whispered, stroking her hair softly, combing his fingers through it. "Dear God, I would do it over and over again if it meant you were awake right now."

Y/N didn't reply. Benedict had gotten used to simply speaking to himself.

The door to the room opened quietly, a beam of light shining into the room.

"How is she?" Violet asked, gently closing the door behind her.

Benedict sighed softly. "The swelling's gone down, which is a good thing. But we still won't know until she wakes up."

Violet nodded, walking further into the room. She stood next to Benedict, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't your fault."

"I just wish I could... I could switch places," Benedict whispered, reaching up and gripping his mother's hand. He closed his eyes, feeling them burn. "Give her my life."

Violet squeezed his hand tightly, pressing a kiss to her son's head. "I know. I know."

Benedict looked down at Y/N again, silently willing her to wake up - to smile. She just lay there, deathly still, her eyes still closed.

"Just let me give you my life," he whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Please."

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton #the bridgertons #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine

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