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illicitlimerence-writes · 2 years

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crazy | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 2.7k words request: yes/no by an anon: "could you write something where y/n is charles’ media aid? like the person that walks around with them? and he’s madly in love with her." warnings: kinga angsty? language, i wrote part of his on my phone so i'm sorry for any mistakes. also, not proofread, i wrote this in the spur of the moment after sharl's magnificent win. a/n: not me posting at 3am again.

my masterlist

as the laps and time were ticking down, your foot started tapping incessantly against the floor. even though he had a significant advantage over the runner-up, anything could happen.

a deep, long sigh left your lungs as you watched charles cross the line for the last lap of the race. you'd been a little nervous when he was asking to go for the fastest lap, but xavi reassured him he was safe, and charles decided to keep going.

you had your phone and recorder in hand, ready to leave the garage the second charles crossed the finish line.

"first grand slam in a long time," xavi told you, a satisfied smile on his face. your eyes widened, a big grin spreading on your face at the realization. what a weekend. "go," he pointed with his head, you noticed the rest of the team running toward the pit fence to cheer charles on as he only had one more corner to go before crossing the line, claiming his second win of the year.

you did, squeezing past everyone, being pressed against the wall. but it was worth it. seeing charles cross the line, the cheer of the crowd and the adrenaline that was palpable in the atmosphere around the track was a feeling that you couldn't explain, that you wouldn't trade for the world.

after that, you ran to where the podium celebration would take place, both because you wanted to congratulate him, and because it was your job to be with him for the press obligations after.

it was thrilling, as well, to keep your relationship a secret from everyone. it was such a natural transition from coworkers to lovers, that not much had changed since the beginning of your relationship. you being his media officer certainly did make it easier for you two to spend time together, you had the advantage that people were already so used to seeing you walking side by side, to you being one of the first people to be there for him after a race, but no one knew about the hidden reason why.

seeing charles jump out of the car, raising his fist in celebration, was something you didn't think you could ever get tired of. you smiled and cheered and clapped with the rest of the team around you, grinning so hard that your cheeks were starting to hurt. charles finally made his way toward you, letting himself receive pats on the back from everyone as his blushed cheeks and shy eyes looked around him.

he’d gotten used to having you by his side immediately after the race. he longed for the feeling of having you enveloped in his arms. it didn’t take too long for that to happen, he spotted you and quickly, but still wary of not being too obvious, he pulled you close to him, the barrier separating you both from the waist down.

“you freaking did it again, champ!” you yelled, not being sure if he was able to hear you, but you couldn’t keep it in much longer. “you just got a grand slam!” you patted his helmet, watching his eyes crinkling as he smiled harder.

your interaction didn’t last as long as you wanted it to, he had to be interviewed in just a few minutes, and he still had to recompose himself and drink some water to recover from the intense almost two hours. you watched him walk away, but he turned around, giving you a wink. you chuckled, ever since you started dating, you’d tease him endlessly about his poor attempts at winking, and after that, he started practicing more and more, but even now after almost three years, he was still struggling, which made him all more adorable.

the other two podium finishers went up, you clapped for them as well, but all your excitement, and support, went to the monegasque driver. you allowed yourself to let loose a little, screaming the italian anthem at the top of your lungs alongside your coworkers, your celebration grew once he was handed the trophy. he looked directly at you, winking one more time. you could already see all the posts on social media about his little action, gushing about how adorable he looked, how he could not be stopped.

once the music died down, you put yourself in work mode, slipping past the barriers, you made your way around the paddock quickly to lead charles to the media pen. as you waited for him, you grabbed your phone and checked the order in which he was to go and talk to the interviewers. you looked up, seeing charles already walking your way.

you gave him another hug, a shorter one this time.

“charles leclerc, what a race,” you smiled, seeing his red cheeks up close was a privilege you felt thankful for having.

“merci, mon amour,” he replied, and you wanted nothing but to grab his face in your hands and kiss him until you were both breathless.

“how does it feel to extend your championship lead?” you asked, grabbing his forearm and leading him to the right direction, walking past people that were in your way.

“ah, i don’t want to jinx anything, but… you know. i have a good feeling,” he admitted, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“it’s not jinxing, it’s manifesting,” you laughed, turning your head to see charles rolling his eyes jokingly as he drank from his water bottle.

“okay, we’re manifesting a world championship,” he kept going, you nodded at him.

“that’s what i like to hear,” you could hear the rumble of the people in and around the media pen.

“you know… when i saw you from up there in the podium, i really wanted nothing more than to have you by my side.” his words take you by surprise. of course you’d talked about going public, but you were both equally as devoted to each other without the need to have millions of prying eyes analyzing every single moment of your relationship. plus, that also meant that you had to come clean to the team as well, and that was something you were putting off for as long as you could.

“hmm… maybe next time you win you can ask to have your hardworking public relationships officer up there with you,” you spoke as you were nearing the entrance to the pen, you took your phone and started scanning through the interviewers, spotting where charles was supposed to go to first.

“maybe i will,” his words caught you by surprise, but you couldn’t reply because as soon as he got near his first interview spot, he got caught in the routine of retelling his race and how he was feeling at that moment.

you loved your job, you truly did, but you just could not concentrate after what charles had just said. you trusted that he wasn’t telling anything he shouldn’t because otherwise both of you would be in trouble. but your mind was elsewhere. maybe you were just overthinking.

“yeah, it was very fun to be up there again, the car was feeling amazing all weekend, and the team, really did a good job. everyone in the team deserves a chance to be up in the podium, so we will have to keep working hard to make sure the team gets the recognition they deserve,” that part you did hear. and it made your breath hitch. you were 100% sure that he really was serious about having you up there with him.

once he wrapped up the interview, you walked him to the next one, and you gasped, again, when you felt his fingers brushing against the back of your hand.

“charles,” you warned him, but he gave you a sheepish smile before he was, once again, caught up with another interview.

“yes, like i told my beautiful media officer here, i do not want to jinx anything, but she says we’re manifesting, so, maybe i will have to look more into that and see if we can manifest a championship this year,” those words were what made your face warm-up, you shook your head slightly, smiling at charles and the interviewer, who was now paying more attention to you.

“are you crazy?” you whispered as you waited for the driver who was currently speaking to your next interviewer to wrap up.

“for you,” he answered shortly after, this time brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“will you please stop? i don’t want to get fired,” you whispered again, fearing that someone might hear you.

“you won’t. if anything, now they have another reason not to fire you. i’ll leave if you leave,”

“you don’t mean that,” you said.

“but i do. and it’s true. if you’re out, i’m out.”

“but i don’t want you intervening in my work, i don’t-”

“it won’t. i promise.”

the first round of interviews was over, and as you walked to the room where the press conference would take place, you spoke.

“do you want to go public?” you asked, he turned to look at you.

“do you?”

“i don’t know. it’s just… i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this vocal about or work relationship, now i’m not too sure how the public will react,”

“i want nothing more than to kiss you at the end of every race, i feel fortunate enough to be able to be with you almost every day, and i do not take that for granted. i don’t want to hide something that makes me so happy, something that makes me get out of bed each morning and work my ass off so i can be the best version of myself. for you.”

you didn’t expect his sudden speech, you listened, not a word leaving your lips.

“i will not pressure you into doing something you don’t want or are not ready for. i just don’t want to hide my love for you. you and i deserve better than that,” he finished, his fingers grazing yours for one second before he was ushered into his chair, the other two podium finishers already sitting there, waiting for him so they could start.

there were a couple of things that you felt like you could do all day, everyday, and never get tired of it. one of them was hearing charles speak. there was something in his voice that told you that everything he said was true, and that he meant it. as you heard him recap his race in just a few short sentences, you allowed yourself to think about what he told you before he sat down on that chair in the middle of the other two drivers.

the walk back to the motorhome was an interrupted one, everyone wanted a picture with charles, and he didn’t deny it to anyone. he didn’t have anything urgent to do, so he took the time to thank the fans for their support. you and charles didn’t get to talk much for the rest of the walk, you really didn’t want this fantastic day to end on a sad note.

you parted ways in the motorhome, you had to hand out the recorder to the media supervisor, and charles had to clean himself up a little, take a quick shower in the bathroom. minutes later, after filling in your supervisor about what had been said, and listening to suggestions about charles’ media posts, you stepped out of the small office. you had a weird feeling as you walked past charles’ private room, you needed to speak to him. you needed to make up your mind. you needed to do what was best for your relationship.

you glanced around you, seeing that the coast was clear, you snuck into his driver’s room, closing the door and locking it, you leaned your forehead against the door, taking a deep breath. at least now you had time to think whilst charles was gone.

“mon ange?” his voice startled you. you turned around with slightly wide eyes.

“i- i didn’t think you’d be here,” you said, taking slow steps toward him. the top part of his race suit was gone, hanging from his hips.

“oh,” was all he said.

“i haven’t kissed you,” you realized, thinking out loud, charles nodded.

“i know,”

“i want to kiss you,” you said.

“do it,”

“i-i want to kiss you. you just got a grand slam and won your second race so far, i’m so fucking proud of you that i want to tell everyone i know that i was right, that i knew you have what it takes to become a world champion. i want to scream at the top of my lungs how happy i am every time you cross that finish line, no matter the result, i want to be the first person to congratulate you, or comfort you, or just stand next to you if that is what you need. i want to do that,” you blurted out, the sentences leaving your lips quickly, the words coming out without you thinking twice.

“you-we don’t have to-”

“but i want to, i do. i really do. i want to show you off and tell everyone who dreams about having a chance with you to fuck off because you’re mine, and you have been for a long time now. fuck, i love you so much that it drives me insane,”

“you’re crazy,” he smiled, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up and twirling you around. you placed your hands on his neck, fingers slipping through his hair. you both laughed.

“i’m crazy for you,” you admitted, calling back to what he had previously said. “i love you,”

“i love you too.”

finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your lips met in a wild embrace. you poured all the pent-up emotions into it, matching his fierce kiss with as much intensity. you groaned as you felt his hands drop to your waist, squeezing possessively.

it’s a tradition that after every race, you post something in support of your drivers. later that night, as you lie on your bed, that you had to sleep alone in, since charles slept in his own hotel room, you scroll through the pictures that the team photographer sent out. you select a few typing a couple sentences where you explained how happy and proud you were of your team.

then, you started preparing a different post.

one minute before the clock hit midnight, you got a text.

‘no backing out now.’

‘we’ve been together for almost three years, charles. i’m not going anywhere.’

you waited until the time changed, tapping the blue post text at the top of your screen.

the same picture made its way into the timeline of both your followers and also charles’, with a different caption. a picture of you two hugging after the race, the barrier separating your lower halves, but you were as close as you could.

‘for the past three years i’ve gotten to witness the real and genuine talent you possess. i’m lucky enough to call you an inspiration, a friend, and a lover. i know this is just getting started, and i can’t wait to be with you every step of the way. love you, champ.’

you smiled to yourself, clicking on charles’ profile to read what he had written.

‘there is nothing like a hug from your number one supporter after a fun race. thank you for all you do for me, you save my life in more ways than one, each day. the future looks is bright for us. crazy for you, today and forever. my angel.’

you felt tears in your eyes as you took a deep breath in as you scanned his words. it took you one second to slip your feet into your slippers and rush to your door, grabbing your key, you opened the door.

you barely took one step out the room when you heard the elevator ding, the doors opening to reveal charles, rushing out of there. a smile made its way onto his face as he ran to you, leading you back into your room, you were ready for a sleepless night with your champion.

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sebrrari · 2 years

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hiiiiii !!!!!!!! Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass it to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

AMES TYSM 🥹!!!!!! and also i only have 5 fics up on ao3 now so none of my wretched children will be left out uwu

analytics; or, how mark webber learned to stop worrying and rail his teammate (mark webber/trans!sebastian vettel, e, 6.6k)

baby’s first f1 fic! first fic written in 10 years??? i orphaned my embarrassing glee rpf right after this started getting hits because it was like someone came to my house and accidentally opened the door to the spare room where i keep all my trash and empty starbucks cups and the one darren criss shirt i own and was like oh you LIVE like this? anyways full of self-indulgent d*ddy kink and mark being a hard but considerate top and also the beginning of my martian brainworms. ty to those of you who have continued to drag me further into the bottom seb rights trenches

here to take my medicine (trans!sebastian vettel, mark webber/seb mentioned, e, 1.6k)

prequel to analytics! i think i wrote this in one night, i love the thought that seb was kind of a paddock slüt and has a little black book somewhere of the drivers that got it and the ones that couldn't even find his dick so i wrote about it but i peppered in the fact that indeed mark webber is about to be the real king that can handle

the flood is rising up on your knees (mark webber/trans!sebastian vettel, e, 3.2k)

i really wanted to have moments of clarity in there for both of them where they're starting to come to terms with the fact that "oh shit actually like. holy fuck. i fucked up this is something i would miss if i didn't have it" but i don't think i nailed it, tbh! i didn't lean in enough because i have an idea of what i want their future relationship to look like in this series so i was being gun shy about laying it all out in this one. but there are still some Moments(tm). i listened to "apocalypse" by cigarettes after sex on repeat writing this and hopefully the vibe of wistful infatuation and discovery of each other is carried through in there somewhere!

i've loved everything about you that hurts (daniel ricciardo/max verstappen, daniel/max/charles leclerc, e, 4.5k)

mmmmmmmmm i love martian but maxiel is like. something that can be so personal. i was thinking about all the sharl/max battles we're getting this season and how charles has excellent racecraft against max because they've raced against each other since they could drive, basically. "the intimacy the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it" was a huge building block for this - but also how i think about max and i think about all the ways he is straightforward when he speaks but in all the ways he's elusive when he doesn't speak, and how there's no way he doesn't get exhausted from having to be stronger than he was yesterday all the time. i also had someone ask me why i wrote about him if i don't like him and i think like... i don't strongly dislike him, i dislike the systems surrounding him that enabled certain things to continue or worsen in his favor. and how love makes him better but he's just learning that after a lifetime of thinking it would cut him off from his destiny. i am not projecting onto this max i am being so normal about it.

the reason comes on the common tongue (lewis hamilton/sebastian vettel, e, 1.3k)

god bratty bottom seb and confident, cool, a little freaky top lewis ... yeah : sigh : i love sewis because i love how hungry they can be for each other in the softest of moments, and the depraved and tender ways they can show it. i want to shake them like a snow globe and write more about it.

#ask #tysm for asking!!!!!! these are so long winded!!!!#f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #i really completely shut off my mcr meltdown to answer this because i needed to take a MOMENT #anyWAYS #my fic #thank u ames for our lives

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bwoahtastic · 4 years

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Charles Leclerc and the Mystery of Pierre's oversized coat

(- a short fic, by Quagswagging)

(Based on this pic and @sendoffire telling me to write it jsjs)

~~~~~

"What the hell are you wearing!" Charles gasped out from behind his red mask as Pierre walked over to him. Pierre frowned, awkwardly tugging on one of the straps of his own paper mask.

"It's a mask, Charles? You are wearing one too." Pierre answered slowly. Charles shook his head.

"I mean your coat!" He said, pointing at the oversized trench coat Pierre was wearing. Pierre huffed, seeming a bit hurt.

"It's just a coat, don't be mean." He grumbled, but the small part of Pierre's cheeks Charles could see turned slightly pink.

"It's not your coat!" Charles said, "You would have shown me if you bought a new coat!" Pierre sighed at how triumphant Charles sounded.

"Let's not discuss this here." He groaned, moving towards the Alpha Tauri garage. Charles jogged after him.

"It's not Dany's." Charles deduced, "Because it's just fashionable enough that it wouldn't fit his aesthetic." He explained. Dany, who joined them briefly, raised an eyebrow.

"Rude." He grumbled.

"But true." Pierre sighed.

"It's not Max's either." Charles continued. "There is no G-Star or Red Bull logo on it so obviously he wouldn't even consider wearing it." He said as Max walked passed them, the Dutchman swiftly flipping him off.

"Yeah it's not Max's." Pierre grumbled, already seeming tired of Charles's antics.

"It's also not Seb's, again since it's too fashionable, and not Lewis's since he would never give anyone his clothes." Charles continued thoughtfully.

"Let it go, Sharl." Pierre warned, but Charles pretended not to listen.

"Lando is too small, George is too... well I'm not sure he even owns a coat, and Nicky is too plain to wear a statement coat like that, no offence Nicky." Charles continued. Nicky, who walked past, frowned.

"I would say none taken but I'm not sure." The Canadian mumbled, already walking away again.

"It's not colourful enough to be Daniel, and I'm not sure what Esteban wears besides team colours. Checo is too small and round, Lando would not look good in beige-" Charles continued to ramble, Pierre pretending not to hear him.

"Hey guys." Alex said, popping up next to them. The Thai nodded at Charles but his attention seemed to be on Pierre, who was looking anywhere but Charles's face. Charles frowned, before suddenly grinning widely.

"Hey Alex." He purred. "What do you think of Pierre's coat?" Alex bit his bottom lip, glancing at te Frenchman.

"It suits him." Alex murmured. Charles look back and forth between the two. And back and forth again.

"Oh come on guys!!" He huffed impatiently. "Alex's name is not embroidered on there but it is that obvious." He added for good measure. Pierre groaned, peeking up at Alex.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have taken your coat." He mumbled. Alex nervously fiddled with his mask, but his eyes were kind.

"I like the way it looks on you." He said gently, making Pierre blush even more.

"Yeah yeah very cute." Charles tutted impatiently. "Now excuse us, Alex, Pierre has a lot he has to explain to his best friend" he grumbled, ignoring Pierre's sheepish look. Alex sighed.

"Of course." He chuckled, before reaching out to gently touch Pierre's hand. "I'll see you later anyways." He added with a wink, before wishing them both a good day. Charles gave Pierre a stern look.

"Start at the beginning..."

#fic drabble #pierre/alex #it was pierre/este at first #but i prefer this jsjsjs #it was WHOLESOME

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formulatrash · 4 years

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Bouncing off that brilliant F1/Sharl question. . .what is the state of Formula E at the moment and who is the Bond Girl of that grid??

So Formula E is in a strangely ok place, compared to F1. The reasons for which are twofold:

Formula E is halfway through the season, so teams and the championship have received some sponsorship money and race fees

Formula E has always been a hot mess where races were cancelled at the drop of a hat and financial stability was a far-off dream compared to ‘somehow making it to the next round in some kind of way, hopefully still with shoes on’

so in many ways, Formula E has simply returned to the way it careened through the first three seasons, one second away from the entire thing failing at any point.

Financial arrangements like the Saudi races and gaining higher-profile manufacturers, sponsors, etc have made Formula E more financially stable and it actually turned a profit last year, which means it’s in a much better place an F1 at the start of all this. Additionally, it’s totally used to being a hot disaster so has very lean operations - both within the organisation and the teams - to constantly brace for the idea there might be no money coming in for awhile.

The teams are in a more stable place because so many of them are or are backed by big manufacturers and keeping a small programme’s lights on during a shutdown is much easier.

For the journalists... there are not many of us. As far as I know, I’m the only whole-season freelancer and obviously for me this is: very bad. Sad times. Bankruptcy crooks its seductive finger once again. But that also goes for some of the PRs - because FE is one of those multi-jobbing race series, a lot of us don’t have full-time jobs there so there’s an above-average number of freelancers in a tricky spot now, from mechanics to photographers and some of the companies contracted to provide eg: broadcast filming and security will be having their own difficulties.

F1 itself is in financial trouble, where FE’s relatively able to weather it because it’s so lean and the risk is distributed onto people working in it. Somewhat. Also just because FE is very agile compared to Formula One and has designed itself presuming it has no money to execute things.

FE also has the advantage of being very agile - once the crisis ends, Formula E can get moving very fast to wherever it can race whereas F1 is in much more of a knot with things and has a much larger logistical demand to put on a race. So FE’s scruffy, wobbly nervous breakdown style beginnings have actually made it very resilient to crisis because it’s designed to constantly be in one.

Being able to move fast and with the automotive industry’s future priorities will give FE a big evolutionary advantage when things start again. I don’t think anyone in FE is out for F1′s scalp - there’s no advtange to us of any series failing, at all. That’s the kind of crisis that would hurt Formula E as well - but there’ll be a brief moment where FE can flex its logistical muscles and pounce faster.

Assuming it survives. Which I really hope it does.

I had to have a long think about who the Bond girl is. It almost feels cliched to say JEV but it probably is. Pretty, high-performing, very driven by attention and deeply wounded by any perceived double-crossing of him but also a little bit tending to, you know. Be a little loose with the rules himself maybe. None of the others are coquettish enough or would be bothered to make themselves look good in a cocktail dress.

#fe asks

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beyondtheglasswall · 4 years

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~~~

I’m not sure when I started walking. I just know I am.

Where am I going? Somewhere. I know where I’m going, but I don’t.

What am I doing? I know what I’m doing, but I don’t.

I just keep walking. I keep walking.

Around me, I can see machinery. All kinds of machinery. I’m not sure what it all is for a moment.

The Soreil. I recognize these hallways. This is the Soreil.

... What am I doing on the Soreil? My mind doesn’t sit on that thought for long. I’m still walking.

Before I realize it, I’m somewhere else. A city of technology--Felion. Then I’m somewhere else again. A city of ancient principles and culture--Tenryosara. I walk through the Sharl villages. I walk through the living areas for the people. I just keep walking, walking, walking--my conscious mind stops taking in my surroundings as I go.

I’m not sure when it happened, but I stop walking. I start processing where I’m standing again. Maybe it’d have been better if I didn’t, because as soon as I do, I know I don’t want to be here.

I’m standing on a metal walkway. Below me is a sea--the Flask Sea. It looks like water, but it isn’t. I know it isn’t. I can fully recall what it is.

I know I shouldn’t. I know how horrifying the sight is, but I end up looking into the water anyways. There are things in the water. Sacks, floating in the water. Suspended by a cable so they won’t float to the surface. The sacks look about the size of a person, and that’s because they are. My gaze goes beyond the sack, and I can see what’s inside one. A person--I don’t know them. I never did.

I knew they won’t drown in this sea; rather, they can’t. It wasn’t designed for that. This ‘water’ is a solvent. A solvent for the human soul. The longer a person’s in it, the more their soul slowly deteriorates. And from it...

Something breaks past the water’s surface. I see it clearly--a Sharl. A newborn Sharl. Born from a human submerged in this solvent. I see it flutter off, like an infant wandering around for the first time. How many had this produced by now? How many more would they produce until they died?

All of that, underneath the water. If any of them awoke during it, for even a minute, what would they feel? Like they were drowning? Like someone was holding them under, until they couldn’t breathe? They’d feel like they were dying, but wouldn’t be allowed to.

... I feel sick. I don’t want to be here. I turn, and begin walking again.

“Where are you going?”

I stop. That voice... A part of me tells myself to not turn around. I turn around.

I see a head of brown hair, with piercing eyes of the same color. In his usual attire, he stands tall, looking like a hero confronting a great evil. His deep, searing glare burns at me.

“Can’t stand looking at your own work?” I remember hearing that hatred from him. I almost can’t look at him. “Do you think you can walk away just because you have a guilty conscience?”

‘It’s not like that.’ I say, but my tone doesn’t match my words.

“It is.” He starts walking towards me, fists clenched. “They didn’t get a choice--you think you should?”

I involuntarily take a step back. ‘Delta, please.’ Listen to me. What happened at Felion, I didn’t know. It was out of my control. And when I realized, I did what I could to save them. We saved so many people--

“And what about the people you didn’t?”

My blood freezes. Out of the corner of my eye, I feel like there are more sacks in the water than before.

‘I can’t save everyone. It’s not fair for me to expect myself to--’

He comes to a stop, his foot stomping against the metal walkway. I hear the sound echo across the space around us. A few of the sacks bob idly, like balloons that had just been hit by a breeze.

“Don’t make excuses!” He’s shouting now. It feels louder than it is. My chest starts hurting. “You had me open the gate! I don’t care why or how, you did it! And as for that ‘we’ stuff...”

I’m not sure when I realized I had it. I don’t think it was there to begin with. Something’s in my pocket now. I reach into it, pulling out something.

“That ‘terminal’ there. You used that to control me. There was no ‘we’ in any of this.”

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing then, but none of that matters now.’

“Like hell it doesn’t! You had to have known before we did! And you still kept going! Why?!”

‘It’s not that simple! We needed to do that! We needed to use Interdimend, or else--’

“Stop with the ‘we’! YOU didn’t need to do anything!!”

‘I DID!! If I hadn’t, everyone on the Soreil would have died! Cass, Nay, Kanon--they’d all have died! Everyone!’

“Stop pretending you did any of it for them!! You know exactly who you did it for!”

‘That isn’t--’

“You sacrificed hundreds of thousands of people! Innocent people! Men, women, children--and for what? For some girl who didn’t even know you?!”

‘We’d known each other for two years, you can’t just--’

“YOU knew HER! And you got it in your head you could help her, so you jumped in! It didn’t matter what risk there was--you just did it! And people paid the price, so that you could be the big hero--!!”

STOP CALLING ME THAT!!

Delta stumbles backwards, looking like he’d just been shocked. I didn’t realize I’d actually shouted. I realize the sea below is rippling, just from my voice alone. But Delta stands his ground. His teeth are gritted.

“You know it, don’t you. You can’t stand being called that. Because you know you aren’t one.” He starts walking towards me again. I didn’t see when he pulled them out, but now he’s holding the energy tonfas Sarly made. “You know exactly what you are.”

‘Delta. Please, stop. I don’t want to do this.’

Earthes isn’t here. I can’t beat Delta in a fight. That should be the reason I’m backing away, but--

“You’re the same as them!”

He’s running at me now. The tonfas converge together, forming a blade. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me for everything.

‘I’m--’

Before I realize it, my hand’s instinctively raised. The terminal in my hands is on. And Delta freezes.

A puppet’s marionette strings are being pulled. It tugs against them, struggling to get loose and turn against the master holding them.

“I’ll never... give... up...!!”

You said that last time. I remember.

The puppet keeps pulling. The strings can only give so much. The master can only let so much go before the puppet reaches him.

“Agh... gah...!!”

Please.

“Gagh...!!!”

Just give up already.

“Ggh... AAAAGH!!!!”

I hear the strings snap.

Something hits the floor. It’s Delta, but it isn’t. It looks like him, but it isn’t anymore.

It’s just a body. A puppet that cut its own strings.

I stand there, looking down at it. I only just realize I’m shaking. I feel sick. I shouldn’t be able to stand, but my body isn’t letting me fall to my knees.

It’s wrong. I’m nothing like them. Nothing like her.

“But you are. Aren’t you?”

I don’t need to turn to recognize that voice coming from behind me. My body turns anyways. My eyes perceive her anyways.”

“Taking over someone’s body for your own reasons?” My eyes can’t reconcile the image. Her appearance seems to shift, going between someone who looks like Nelo and someone who looks like Prim. But I know it’s Arytha. “That sounds pretty much like what I did.”

‘It wasn’t! You came to this world to hurt people! I came to help them!’

“No, you came to help ‘Ion’, just like how I came to save my sister. And we both ended up hurting people, didn’t we?”

I say something, but words don’t come out.

“Oh ,just give it a rest already. It isn’t just me who deserves punishment after all.”

I keep trying to talk, but there’s no sound. Suddenly, I realize there are ‘things’ flying all around me--

Sharl.

“A few years in the Flask Sea sounds fair, huh?”

I’m being grabbed from all sides. I struggle, trying to break free. I can feel myself being lifted off the ground. I’m panicking. I call out for help, but no one comes to help me. Arytha says something else, but I can’t hear it. I can’t even make out what’s around me at this point. I’m just being carried away.

And then, I’m dropped. My body lands in ‘water’, and I go under.

Panic fills every part of my body. This is it. This is how I’m going to die.

I struggle, my instincts taking over. I flail my arms, trying to get above water, but I can’t. I feel like I’m being pulled under. Something starts wrapping around my legs. My lungs are burning. My arms keep flailing until something grabs them too. Something starts wrapping around me. I can’t keep holding my breath.

I’m not sure why, but I my eyes start processing what’s around me.

These other people in the sacks. I see Cass. Sarly. Shirotaka. Nay. Kanon.

I see everyone I knew on the Soreil.

... I see Rin. I see everyone else I failed to save.

Something covers my face. And as it does...

I lose my breath.

... ... ...

But I don’t drown. I just sit in the dark.

I feel like I’m dying. But I can’t die.

I just sit in this hell.

... Help.

Someone, please help me.

Someone, please!!

Please, help m--

---------

It was probably the longest gasp of breath he’d ever taken. He sat there, coughing for a few minutes in the silence around him. His mind wasn’t processing what was going on around him. He just needed air. There wasn’t anything in him except some spit, but he hacked liked he’d just been pulled out from the water.

“Dream... dream, dream... dream...”

He said it, as though he were trying to convince himself. His breathing began to settle, but not by much.

He sat there for a few seconds, only listening to the ambient noise around him. He was by himself.

Maybe it was because he was by himself that he felt something begin to run down his face. Something wet. Coming from his eyes.

Once he’d realized it, he couldn’t stop it.

Takuya could only try and fail to hold it back as he began to cry to himself.

He wasn’t going to be falling back asleep anytime soon.

#;thoughts of the observer [drabble]#tw drowning #tw suffocation #tw death #tw death mention #[this was either going to be a drabble or a headcanon]#[this ended up spawning from my brain]#[whoops how did this get so damn long-]#[this has some Stuff in it so be mindful before you read]#[don't want to genuinely trigger anyone ;w;]

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