#but the time for a two state solution has long passed

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

So hey, following Zionist logic, since humans are believed to originate in Africa, does that mean the Europeans were right to colonize it as their “birthright”? 🤓

Or no my bad if the oppressor isn’t a Christian European it’s not oppression and it doesn’t count as genocide when the victims are Arab.

Gotcha.

[empress-simps]

Can I get period comfort with the marauders? and or all of them is fine, and it can be romantic or platonic! I might be projecting because I just got mine the time I’m typing this. 😩

Feel free to ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable to write :-)

Hi darling, thank you for requesting, this is too cute ugh- I hope you don't mind but I made it Poly!Marauders! (I seriously need to have more fics of poly!Marauders) I also crave period comfort fics when it's that time of the month, so I hope this is what you had in mind, enjoy! (Note: I literally published this the second I finished writing it, expect possible typos and grammatical errors)

Lazy Days

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x Fem! Reader

CW: Language and Marlene being herself. (1.4k words)

“Godric’s balls, this shit bloody hurts.”

You groaned, it hasn’t even been a whole minute since you woke up; and you were already writhing in pain from your lower abdomen and the headache that was slowly getting stronger every second. Out of all the days you could’ve gotten your period, it just had to be where you made plans with your boyfriends to go to Hogsmeade.

You sometimes wondered what you did in your past life to deserve this monthly pain- Marlene tells you you’re just being overdramatic, but who is she to say that about you when she honestly thought she was going to pass out just because Dorcas talked to her? She had no right.

Lily looked over her shoulder and your direction as she was busy fixing her hair, trying to look presentable for the day as she scanned your form. “Your turn?” she asked, lightly frowning. You could only nod in reply as you watched her take out some heat pads, urging you to take it. You immediately snatched it out of her hands, muttering thanks to the red-haired girl and placing it in your tummy. “Are you still going to Hogsmeade with your lover boys?” she asked, applying a bit of lip gloss and mascara.

“Lils, can’t you see the state I’m in?” You complained, rolling in bed as two of your friends are already getting ready to go to their respective Hogsmeade dates. She shot you a pitying look, “I have a solution.” Marlene announces out loud, trying her best not to burst out laughing. “I know it won’t be any good as long as an idea is created in that head of yours, but let’s hear it.” You sat up, crossing your arms and staring at your friend, an eyebrow raised, urging her to go on.

She clutched her imaginary pearl necklaces and glared at you playfully. “How could you?! This solution will be effective for a couple of months, you know!” Now, that got you interested. Scooting to the foot of your bed, you leaned closer to what Marlene had to say, heck- even Lily stopped getting ready as she turned her full attention to Marlene. Was it a potion that can minimize period cramps? If so, you’re ready to spend hundreds of galleons just so you can get a hold of it.

“I say you get one of them to knock you up.” She cackled, barely avoiding the pillow you threw at her and Lily’s shocked gasp.

“You’re bonkers, Marlene!” You cried out, chucking another pillow in her laughing form which hit her in the head, making her stumble, but she continued to laugh hysterically.

Lily shakes her head, looking with a disapproving look at Marlene, like how a mother looks at her child when they misbehave. “We still must graduate, Marls. I’m sure Y/n is responsible enough and are taking… precautions.”

You blushed, looking away. “Damn right we are.” She grumbles, making Marlene laugh even harder.

“Darling? You in there?” Remus knocks gently, Lily opened the door to see Remus dressed in one of his grandpa sweaters, his messenger bag that he got from the three of you on his birthday was already with him, clearly ready to go.

“We’re still waiting on Padfoot and his hair care routine but other than that, we’re good to go- “Remus stopped when he stepped inside the room and saw you, disheveled and far from ready for your date. Your scarred boyfriend frowned, immediately placing the back of his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature. “Feeling under the weather, love?” before you could even answer, the little shit- Marlene, answered for you.

“She wants the three of you to knock her up so she wouldn’t have to deal with monthly periods.”

You can feel your boyfriend sputter beside you, no doubt blushing like a tomato as he managed to stutter, “W-what?” Merlin, you just want to dissolve than be here at this exact moment.

“Marlene, shut up before I hex you too much you couldn’t go on your date with Dorcas.” You warned, looking everywhere and anything to just not meet one of your boyfriend’s eyes. “I’m joking! Love you, Y/n! See ya later!” She rushed out of the room before you could even think of grabbing your wand, bumping into James and Sirius in the process.

“What was that about?” James asked no one in particular, his arm wrapped around Sirius’ waist as they entered the room. Lily sighed, “Just Marlene being Marlene.” She grabbed her bag, about to leave. “I’ll see you later, Y/n! No funny business.” Lily glares in warning at the boys, before shooting you a smile and closing the door shut.

“Now, why aren’t you dressed yet darling?” Sirius kissed your cheek in greeting, sitting beside you as James took a seat beside Remus. “Period cramps.” You grumbled, plopping on your bed again, sighing. “Sorry my loves, looks like you three have no choice but wish I was with you in Honeydukes.” You joked, seeing them exchange a glance with each other. “If you can’t go then we won’t go.” James concluded, already taking off his shoes as Sirius shimmied off his leather jacket and Doc Martens, racing with James, seeing who can cuddle with you fastest.

Remus sighs, sharing a look with you as he saw both his boyfriends almost squish you. “You blokes.” He proceeded to take off his converse and join the cuddle puddle, placing a hand on your lower abdomen, “heat pads?” He asks, looking at you.

“Yeah, Lily let me borrow hers.” You protested when Remus basically took it and threw it on Lily’s bed. “You’re mean, Remmy.” Whining, you try to get up and get it back when the boys gently push you down, not letting you escape their grasp.

“It was already pretty cold, darling. Besides, I’m here.” Remus places his warm hand on your abdomen, even massaging it lightly. You visibly relaxed under his touch. “See? Much better.” He grins. You chuckled, “Yeah, I forgot. You’re a walking furnace, love.”

“If we dropped an egg on Moony, would it sizzle? Or just slowly cook?” James asked curiously, making you throw your head back in laughter.

The room was filled with warmth, with Sirius and James’ presence as well as Remus’ literal warmth. You nestled deep into the cozy nest that the boys had seemed to create, as if protecting you from the outside world, their perfumes wafted into the air, making you relaxed and a tad bit sleepy.

 “You know,” Sirius started, his lips brushing gently against your temple, “I’ve heard that cuddling is a natural remedy for period cramps. Scientifically proven, I swear.”

James, who was sprawled out on the other side of the bed, nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. It’s in the Marauder’s Handbook, right next to the chapter on pranks and secret passageways.” Remus rolled his eyes playfully at their antics.

“Marauder’s handbook, huh? So, you’re telling me not only do you have a map but a magical handbook as well?” She teased, raising one eyebrow at Potter’s claims. “I have to see it.” James grins sheepishly, “Erm, well… Moony’s still writing it- “

“Don’t drag me into that, Prongs.”

“Such dorks… I guess I’ll just have to take your guys’ word for it, huh?” You grin, while James hums in agreement. Now, you wonder if you were a hero that saved a nation in your past life to even call the three dorks cuddling you your boyfriends.

“Who needs Honeydukes when I’ve got you guys?” You gestured to their faces, earning a chorus of mock protests. “Oi, I’m not a chocolate frog,” Sirius protested, but his eyes softened as he gazed at you. “But I’d gladly be your Honeydukes substitute.” He winks playfully.

“You sure do look like one though, Padfoot.” James teased as he wiggled his toes under the blanket.

“What was that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing, I’m just joking!” James automatically shielded his face as Sirius tried to hit his arm, whining.

Together, they cocooned you in affection, their laughter blending with yours. In the little corner of your dorm, you were surrounded by love, laughter, and the promise of more lazy days with just you and your boys.

“So,” James said, breaking the comfortable silence, “who’s up for a game of Exploding Snap?” You groaned, “What if the cards explode all over my bed? I don’t have the energy to clean up after you guys.”

Sirius grinned. “Then we’ll just have to cast a cleaning charm. Besides, it’s worth it to see Moony’s face when he loses.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know I’m an excellent card player.”

“Sure, Moony,” James teased. “Just like you’re an excellent cook.”

Remus snorted, “Like you’re any better than me, Prongs.”

[leahluvr]

comfy - leah williamson x reader

genre: fluff, petty argument

warnings: none

____________________________________________

being only a newer member of arsenals club, you and leah hadn’t taken the opportunity to get close with each other. though every attempt you made to interact with the older girl was often unsuccessful.

so, when the two of you got paired to be roomies in the hotel for a champions league match, your heart dropped.

the thought of sleeping in the same room as leah terrified you, though reassured by the assumption that you’d be sleeping in seperate, single beds.

as you and the rest of the crew stepped off the team bus and entered the hotel, there was excitement and exhaustion mixed in equal parts. the short transitions between the super and champion league matches were draining on the body and all anyone needed after a flight was a good rest. the anticipation of the tournaments kickoff was exhilarating, but a long day of travel had taken its toll.

it was a quiet walk from checking in, catching the elevator and bidding ‘goodnights’ to your other team mates. your hands trembled with anxiety, the silence around leah creating an almost panic-inducing feeling. you were worried you’d make a fool of yourself infront of the england captain.

when you arrived at your room, you both exchanged glances, realising that the room clearly was set up for a couple, not two teammates. the room had only a couch and a queen-sized bed.

leah was quick to offer a solution.

“you can take the bed, i’ll be fine on the couch,” she rushed, “it’s not big deal. you probably want to be comfortable.”

“leah, no i’ll take the couch, you need it.”

“absolutely not. your comfort comes first.”

you took surprise in her stern tone, not daring to talk back. you took her word, as much as you hated and took your respective place on the bed.

as time passed, an awkward silence hung in the air, you could tell leah was struggling to find comfort on the couch, shifting and fidgeting as she fiddled with her phone.

leah continued to shuffle in her spot making quiet grumbling noises, clearly frustrated by the discomfort of the sofa.

“i’m heading in the shower.” leah stated, walking towards the bathroom.

“oh, okay well i might go to bed now, goodnight,” you say timidly.

“night,” she gently smiles.

determined to prioritise her comfort, you made a decision. while leah showered, you moved from the bed down the couch where leah has been laying. your intention was to make sure she could sleep soundly before match day -1.

when leah returned to the room, she noticed you were no longer in the bed. you laid on the couch eyes closed, attempting to fall asleep. her brows furrowed with concern as she walked around, seeing your body curled up on the couch.

“what are you doing?” she asked, quite bluntly.

you shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty.

"i noticed you were having trouble on the couch, i didn’t want you to be uncomfortable," you confessed, "so, i thought i'd take the couch instead to make sure you can sleep well."

"you don’t have to do that," she said, her voice gentle as her expression softened.

"leah," you insisted, "you deserve the queen bed. it's the least i can do."

"nah sweet, can't let you sleep on that couch. you're my teammate, and i want you to be well-rested for training. don’t worry about me, look after your young body while you can."

“leah, let’s be real, i’m going to be benched for the whole game, meaning i won’t really be necessary during training tomorrow.” you say quietly, voice tinging with uncertainty, “you’re like the most important player on the team.”

“yn, you’re part of the team, your presence matters,” she reassures, “whether you’re on the pitch or not, you’re important, the girls love you.”

“how can anyone like me? i don’t really have anyone i can talk to.”

“you’re new darling, you’ll get to know everyone soon enough,” she shook her head, “and you have me. you can talk to me, yn.”

she looks you with genuine eyes and gives out a lending hand to help you up from the couch. you feel flustered the way her warm skin gently comes into contact with yours. the back and forth of each of you trying to outdo the other in selflessness had ended. rather exhaustion and the realisation that you both just wanted to be comfortable, overshadowed the argument.

“let’s just sleep in the queen together, no harm done.”

you get comfortable in bed but keep a safe distance away from leah, being careful not to make her feel uncomfortable.

a long night passes as morning arrives. when your eyes crack open you notice you feel quite hot. leah is glued to you her head buried in your chest, legs intertwined with yours. her sun kissed blonde hair is splays across your arm and the bed.

in shock you flinch away, moving away in precision, trying not to wake the older girl up. but due to the feeling of movement, leah makes a quiet mumbling sound hugging you closer and nestling her face deeper into your neck.

you didn’t know how you were going to get out of this one.

____________________________________________

an: this is so BORING AHAHAHHA

[phoward89]

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Series Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus

This chapter has quite a few flashbacks in it since Coryo's going to be reflecting on his relationship with the reader. It's also a really long chapter.

Chapter 5:

When you suddenly quit your job, your boss was shocked. They had no idea that you’re seeking employment elsewhere or are currently unhappy being a part of the Odair Luxury Cruises marketing family. They even pleaded with you to stay; offered to talk to their superior to see if you could be given a raise.

You turned them down.

They can't get you the same amount of money that Coriolanus can. Plus, you don't need to worry about an office romance ruining your ability to work.

You know that Odysseus assumes that you're listening to him; taking a few personal health days, even tho you're not. You wonder if he'll find out that you quit your job at his father's company or if VPs don't find out that kind of information.

“You almost done with that application, darling?” Coriolanus asked as the two of you sat in his home office. He's lounging on his leather office sofa, clad in a low rise pair of sweatpants and a tight tank, with a coffee cup dangling in his hand. His icy blue eyes are glued to you as you sit at his mahogany desk, filling out your official application for your new job.

You already had the job, but you needed to submit an application so that he could approve it and get your onboarding process started.

“Almost, Coriolanus.” You answered while scrolling thru dates to find your birthday.

“You called me Coryo all night and now we're back to this Coriolanus shit? Even after I gave you a job that I view as a very detrimental one?” He asked incredulously while sipping on his coffee. His brows were knit, in fact he was angry with the desk for blocking the view of your legs. You're wearing one of his shirts, which falls mid-thigh on you due to his height, and in his opinion it showed off your legs perfectly.

“Last night was a fluke. A one time thing for old time's sake.” You told your ex while finishing up the application and hitting send. “Besides, you've got Livia to fuck now.” You rolled the chair slightly away from the desk and stood up. “Oh, you can go approve the application now.”

“I'm not fucking Livia.” Coriolanus was quick to tell you while placing his coffee mug on the coffee table. “And I'm not moving her in with me, so stop trying to push me onto her as a way to avoid things between us.” He added, getting up from the sofa.

“There’s nothing between us, Coriolanus.” You tell him, crossing the room to the sofa.

“That's bullshit and you know it, darling.” Coriolanus spat, striding over and meeting you halfway between the leather sofa and his desk. Taking your upper arms in his large hands, he told you with such conviction, “We have so much between us. So many years and fondness between us that it's foolish of you to act like we're mere ships passing in the night when we're so much more than that.”

Patting him in the middle of the chest, you stated, “That charm of yours paired with your elegant words should give you a leg up on your opponents.” But with his silver tongue why was he at the bottom of the race? That irked you. So much so, that you told him, “I'll just have to go shift thru polls and surveys to see what the exact problem is; why you're so low ranking.”

Coriolanus' baby blues searched your eyes studiously, as if he was trying to find the solution to a riddle. Slightly shaking his head, causing his unkempt platinum curls to rustle around, he asked, moreso to himself then to you, “Why're you acting like this towards me? I thought that you love me?”

“Acting like what, Coriolanus? Like your assistant, your PR liaison, your campaign manager?” You sarcastically asked, only to sassily inform him of the simple fact that: “I’m getting a headstart on my job, Head Gamemaker Snow.” Looking over his shoulder instead of in his overwhelming beautiful baby blue eyes, you mustered up every ounce of dishonesty that you could dig out of your sweet soul and told the self preserving lie of, “Loved you, as in the past, Coriolanus. I've moved on and discovered that you're not the type of man to love or deserve it; that I just confused care and a long-term friendship as something more.”

Coriolanus tilted his head, brow raised, as he tightly smiled to mask his disappointment in your dishonesty. “My darling rose, I thought we’d never lie to each other.” His baritone was like a sharp drawn bow string, ready to snap.

The curly haired platinum blonde's call out on your lie shook you to your core. How the hell does he know you're lying? Is he that pompous, conceited, self-centered, and arrogant, or was he truly in tune with your thoughts and feelings?

Deciding that you needed to get away from the imposing golden angelic devil of a man before you cracked, you excused yourself with, “I'll let you get on with reviewing my application and beginning the hiring process. I need to get home and relax.”

“I’ll call both the salon and spa you're a regular at; let them know to expect you later today and to just send me the bill.” Coriolanus told you as you made your way to the door of his office.

Looking over your shoulder, you thanked him with, “Thank you, Coriolanus. I’ll pay you back when I can.”

“No need.” Coriolanus waved his hand dismissively. With a thin lipped smile, he gestured towards the door and told you, “Just go relax and get dolled up to be my right-hand girl.”

You nodded, a silent show of understanding, before opening the study door and walking out of the room; leaving the regal blonde all alone to process your application.

Coriolanus Snow was not a man that was easily impressed, but your resume impressed him. It truly did. He knew that you'd be the perfect fit for running his campaign, being his PR spokesperson, and his assistant. But seeing your academic and career achievements in black and white just proved he was right.

And his benefactor Strabo Plinth told Coriolanus to either keep you holed up in a nice, but remote part of the luxury district (District 1) in one of the Capitol owned and operated spa/lodges as his mistress; he could visit from time to time, or to just toss you to the curb. Mr. Plinth felt that you had no value to Coriolanus' politician ambitions, unlike Livia Cardew, since you couldn't offer him anything *cough* money and status *cough*.

But despite Strabo Plinth's advice, Coriolanus didn't do either. Instead, after shoving his way into your life again after missing out on a month of it, he made you the most powerful person in his Senate campaign. He didn't even bother looking at the list of potential political advisors and campaign managers that Strabo had sent him.

No.

He chose you because he trusts you; knows that you'll help him win because you understand how important winning the Senate seat is to him. You've known each other since the days you were huddled together in the basement, waiting for the bombs to pass, as small children. You grew up alongside him as his best friend, his first crush- and daresay his first love?

You know that Coriolanus’ dream ever since you were little was to become the President of Panem. So, he knows that you'll do everything possible in your power to help him achieve that goal. First step is helping him become Senator Snow.

Coriolanus can't help, but to have memories of the two of you dancing around his head. Memories that make his engagement to Livia Cardew taste like bitter ash in his mouth.

You & Coriolanus age 7:

The war was still raging on. It's in its second year and things are getting worse instead of better. Capitol City, Panem, was under siege. It's a war zone with crumbling buildings due to bombs, the stench of death due to a variety of reasons, sickness and disease, and hunger.

Widespread hunger due to the Capitol being cut off from any and all supply chains.

But, despite this, all the school age children were still being shuffled off to the Academy (where the elite went) or charter schools to learn. Even tho the country’s at war and the District Rebels are trying to starve out the Capitol the children must still be properly educated.

Capitolite children are the future of Panem; President Ravenstill believes that they must be highly educated. Or at least that's the advice that's he's given by the Head of the War Department, one Dr. Volumnia Gaul.

One morning you're heading to school with your best friend, Coryo, and his cousin, Tigress. They're both blondes, but Coryo's 7 like you while Tigris is 10 or maybe 11- you forgot. But all 3 of you attend the Academy. Your older brother, Rein, attends the Academy too. In fact he's walking with Tigris behind you and Coryo, keeping an eye out on you two.

Coryo's holding your hand as the two of you navigate the rubble on the sidewalks. Sometimes it's so bad that you're forced to walk in the middle of the street. But streets aren't busy with traffic and cars like before the war- no, now cars are sitting idle because there's no more fuel to power them due to shortages from the siege.

Everything seems like a normal morning, or at least as normal as one can be while in the middle of a warzone, when suddenly the loud sound of sirens went off.

An air raid warning.

Bomber hovercrafts have been spotted; they are headed straight towards the Capitol.

Quickly, everyone ran to the nearest bomb shelter, being basements in buildings throughout the city. Your little ragtag group was no different.

Coryo held your hand tightly while running towards the building a few other people were going into. Rein and Tigris are quick on your tail. Coryo's long legs made him speedy and if his hand wasn't holding yours with a death grip then you'd be left behind.

But he'll never do that to you. No, he'll never leave you. That little boy with the light golden curls loves you; you're his best friend and he's determined to keep you safe. Which is why he's running and dragging you along to the nearest basement bomb shelter to ride out the incoming air raid that'll start any minute now.

Looking up into the sky, you cry, “Coryo, look the bombs are coming!”, as the bomber hovercrafts are in sight.

“Run, Y/N, the shelter’s up ahead!” Coryo screams back at you while making a mad dash to the shelter.

“Go into the shelter, now!” Your brother, Rein, orders in a loud shout. He and Tigris are right behind you and Coryo.

Coryo pushes open a side door to a building and runs downstairs, never letting go of your hand. Rein quickly pushes Tigris forward, thru the door before entering himself. And while your bestfriend leads you into the basement, where other Capitolites are hunkered down, the ground begins to shake and loud booms echo into the air.

It's the bombs.

You, Coryo, Tigris, and Rein made it inside of the shelter just in time.

But the force of the bombing makes walking down the basement stairs hard. Coryo never lets go of your hand, no even when you reach the basement. In fact, he sits huddled with you against the wall.

“We’re safe, Y/N. I got us here; I'll always keep you safe too because you're my best friend.” The boy with the light blonde curls and crystal clear blue eyes tells you while holding onto you for dear life.

Tigris is sitting next to Coryo while Rein's next to you. But your brother's not paying you and mind. No, instead he's talking to some girl next to him. Maybe he knows her from school?

But Coryo's hugging you close, determined to keep you safe and make you feel less afraid despite the fact that he too is scared of the bombs; of the unknown this war's bringing about.

You & Coriolanus Age 13:

The war’s been over for 5 years now, but the Capitol's still a heap of rubble. Sadly, the Districts are in worse shape. That's saying a lot about how destructive the war has been.

But buildings crumbling down and crops burning up wasn't the only damage left by the war. Your family was left damaged by the death of your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, 5 years ago. He died in the woods right outside of 12, killed by rebels. Your dad died alongside his comrade, General Crassus Snow- Coriolanus’ father.

So, you both lost your father's; the main breadwinners of your families. While Coriolanus was orphaned and left with his Grandma’am and cousin, you had your mother and older brother. But, honestly, your families had similar dynamics.

If it wasn't for the neighbor, Pluribus Bell, then both the Snow and the Halvir families would've starved to death. The former nightclub owner was a part of the black market; would often help both Coryo's and your family with acquiring much needed items or a case of lima beans.

Currently, you're sitting with Coryo in his Grandma’am's rooftop garden on a late Saturday afternoon in May.

During the war Grandma'am Snow started growing cabbages to feed her family; she shared them with yours because your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, was serving under her son, General Crassus Snow, in District 12 where her son was the Commander. Even now, 5 years after the war, cabbages are still being grown and shared by the Snows. Something that you're grateful for even if you're tired of eating cabbage a thousand ways.

According to Coryo his Grandma'am always had the garden. Ever since he could remember, she's been growing roses on the rooftop. He even shared with her that his mom used to spend a lot of time in the garden with him, singing to him and tending to the Grandma’am's roses.

You envy your best friend for having small memories of his mother. You wish that you could remember your dad, but no matter how hard you try, you can't. Everything comes in little bits and pieces, just broken fragments.

Anyways…

Grandma'am Snow grows roses in every color imaginable. The flowers are truly beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

Coryo is as much of a botanist as Grandma'am. You told him as much after he explained everything he knew about pruning, planting, and caring for the delicate flowers.

“When I become President I'm going to create such beautiful rose gardens that the gardens of the Presidential Palace will be the envy of everyone in Panem let alone the Capitol.” The blonde boy, whose platinum curls fell around his head like a messy halo, smiles as he daydreams of the future.

“Are you going to tend the gardens? As President wouldn't you be too busy to prune roses?” You ask, curious to what Coryo's answer would be.

Your best friend always has the ‘perfect’ answer for everything. His words are always so charming; sounding so right.

“Well, then I'll just have to teach you how to care for the roses. As my First Lady you'll be able to tend to the gardens when I'm too busy to do so.”

He's been telling you for the last 4 years that he's going to make you his First Lady. You know it's impossible; that a best friend can't become First Lady. The First Lady's always married to the President. But after arguing over it a few times, you just ignore him when he talks about you being his First Lady; helping him in the Presidential Palace.

“So would I be your gardener or the First Lady, Coryo? Considering I’d be tending to every rose garden on the Presidential Palace grounds.”

Knocking his shoulder into yours, Coryo give you a lopsided grin. “We'll hire gardeners; you'll be my First Lady. Botany will be our hobby outside of politics.”

“If you say so.” You lightly laugh, shaking your head.

“I know so.” Your best friend firmly states. Rising and holding his hand out for you to take, so he can pull you up off the stone bench you're sitting on, Coryo says, “Come on, you can help me with Grandma'am’s roses.”

You and Coriolanus Age 18 (a month before the games):

It’s dark in Coryo's bedroom, the only light being from the moon. It softly shines thru the window, but it's not bright enough to illuminate the room. No, the room’s too big for that.

But you're used to the darkness of Coryo's room. You spent a few nights a week with him; been doing so ever since the two of you started messing around 3 years ago. At first you tried to sneak back downstairs to your own apartment, on the 8th floor, but the platinum blonde with the soft halo of curls and bright blue eyes would always stop you- he always insisted that you just stay with him.

After a few times of trying and failing to leave, you decided to just stop your feeble, useless attempts to leave. To just stay the night with Coryo, snuggled with him in bed.

You're literally laying on top of Coryo, since his bed’s a twin that barely fits him, and his arms are wrapped around you. You're resting your head on his chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his it with your index finger.

“When I win the Plinth Prize next month I'll make sure that you have every luxury you deserve, darling.” Coryo promised, ghosting his fingertips up and down your spine.

“No, Coryo.” You shook your head. His family needed the money, not you. “You need to use that money to pay for University and to fix up your penthouse; you can't use it on me.”

“I'm going to do those things, but I’m also going to take care of you too. I promised to do so when we were children and I've never broken my word.”

“You also promised to protect me. Make me your First Lady too.” You dryly remind him of long ago childish promises. Promises that you don't expect him to keep.

But secretly you hope he keeps the promises he made because within these last 3 years you've been messing around with Coryo you've started to develop deep feelings for him. Feelings you hope he reciprocates, but are to afraid to ask about.

“I'll always protect you, darling.” He assured you. “And you're going to be my First Lady. Just you wait and see.”

“There's only one way for me to become your First Lady…” You mutter under your breath.

“Trust me, everything's going to work out.” He sweetly says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Softly stroking your cheek with his knuckles, he declares with such vigor and confidence, “In a few short weeks I'll win the Plinth Prize, we'll be able to attend the best damn University in Panem and then we'll become President Snow and the First Lady Y/N.”

You and Coriolanus 18 almost 19 (Day Coryo returns to the Capitol from District 12)

You knew that Coryo had left PK Base D-12 because your brother, Rein, told you when he called the other day. He said that ‘Snow’s been accepted to some Elite Officer's program, so he's gone. Also, your friend Plinth died- hanged as a traitor.’ before asking you about how you're doing. You told Rein that you're fine. You didn't tell him how you're trying to find a job in order to pay the portion of the University tuition fee that's due before the semester starts.

Your older brother’s a peacekeeper, an officer in District 12, and has a girlfriend. You can't let.him know about the struggles you and your mother are going thru. Not when he's found someone; is considering starting a life with them too. You know full well that your brother will send his entire paycheck, even take out a Capitol United Bank loan to cover your University expenses if you tell him the truth. And you can't have that.

You wonder what base Coryo was transferred to for his Elite Officer's training. You also wonder what branch he'll be picking to serve in: Air Force or Navy. You know that you can't send him a letter until you get one first, but that doesn't stop you from beginning to write to him.

You and Coryo exchange countless letters. And he tells you that he misses the Capitol, his family, and most of all you in every single one. A part of you melts at his words, but another part of you can't help, but feel that maybe he's just saying what you want to hear. You're not stupid, you're almost positive that he must've used what little money he had to bribe his way into service in District 12 because that's where she is.

His songbird; his victor.

Lucy Gray Baird.

You knew when you saw Coryo stand up and lurch forward at the Reaping Ceremony in Heavensbee Hall once the beautiful girl with big soulful brown eyes, soft raven waves, and a rainbow dress full of frills, that your best friend and sometimes lover was a goner. That he was enchanted by her, that he was going to fall in love with her.

And that instantly broke your heart. You love him and it hurt knowing that your Coryo was no longer yours, but would end up belonging to somebody else.

Someone more beautiful than you.

And when you heard Lucy Gray Baird sing, well, you couldn't fault him for falling in love with her. No, not when you knew singing was something that soothed his soul; reminded him of his mother.

You never sang around him and he never asked you too. You took music as an elective, but he didn't, so he didn't know that you could carry a tune. He never asked; you never told.

And you'll be keeping that a secret until you die now. No need to ever let him know that you like music, can sing decently.

No, not when he's enchanted by a songbird. Not when he's falling for her after just seeing her sing on tv.

You can't help, but wonder if Coryo took his songbird to wherever he was transferred too for his Elite Officer's training. You know for a fact that officers are allowed to have women. They can live with a girlfriend, fiance, or wife. It's a reward for their values service to the Capitol.

Just the thought of Coryo living with Lucy Gray breaks your heart. If he's with her, he won't have any time to write you, will he?

No.

Probably not.

Your mother's out on a ‘date’ tonight, so you're home alone. You're sitting on the sofa, writing to Coryo when a loud knock sounds at your door. Curiously, you rise and go over to the door. And when you answer it, you find yourself standing right in front of Coryo.

He's in his dress uniform, just staring at you as if he blinks you'll disappear. Before you can even ask him how it's possible that he's standing in your doorway, he places his hands on either side of your face and hungrily kisses you. Taking your breath away.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back. The kiss is all teeth clashing and frantic lips smashing together. You're both desperate for the other.

When he pulls away, letting you two catch your breaths, he presses his forehead against yours- causing his grey uniform hat to tip up a bit- and reveals in a near whisper, “I've missed you so much, my darling rose.”

Your heart was beating wildly against your ribcage upon hearing his admission. It made you happy to hear that he misses you. That as soon as he saw you, he had to kiss you.

And all you could say back was, “I missed you too.”

Peering into the apartment behind you, he asked, “You alone?”

“Yes.” You nod.

“Then let's show each other how much we missed one another, shall we?” Coryo suggested, only to sling you over his shoulder and walk inside of your apartment.

After slamming the door shut with his boot, he ran to your room, causing you to giggle and playfully smack his ass. He just chuckled and gave your ass a sharp smack before tossing you on your bed and descending on you like a touch starved man.

Your kisses were heated and sloppy. Clothes were quickly shed and flung all over the room as the two of you kissed and touched each other feverishly on your sorry excuse for a bed.

And then the platinum blonde, whose curls were replaced with a close shaved buzzcut, left a trail of open mouth kisses from your jaw, down your neck, to the valley on your breast, all the way down your stomach before stopping at the apex of your thighs. His icy eyes were smoldering with lust as the pushed your thighs open. He kissed the inside of one and then the other before bringing his face down into your cunt. His nose nuzzled your clit as he licked stripe after stripe along your wet slit. A man thirsty with an unquenchable need for your pussy sweet nectar, Cory messily lapped up your cunt.

Your whines and mewls spurred him on, but he knew that he wouldn't last long (due to a lack of sex since, believe it or not, Lucy Gray was a bit of a tease when it came to fucking him) and he needed to feel your pussy clenching his cock, cumming around him before he loses himself and cums. So, before you can cum, he lifts his head up.

“I need to be inside your cunt, baby. I need to feel you cum around me.” He told you, spreading his precum around his large cock and giving it a few pumps before lining it up at your dripping wet hole.

“I need you inside me too, Coryo. It's been too long.” You tell him, holding onto his shoulders to brace yourself as he slides into you.

It's a big stretch with a slight burn, since you haven't been fucked all summer, but the slight pain passes and you feel nothing, but the pleasure of being full to the hilt as Coryo bottoms out.

“Fuck, babygirl, your cunt's so tight; feels so good around my cock.” Coryo groans, resting his head against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his 8 inches that's buried so deep inside of you that the outline of his cock is seen in your lower stomach.

“Please, Coryo. Move, fuck me.” You beg, your voice a high pitched whine, as you tilts your hips upwards towards his in an attempt to get him moving.

Coryo lifted his head up and leaned back on his haunches, only to pull his cock nearly all the way out only to quickly slam it back inside of your neglected, hungry, drooling pussy. He repeated his actions over and over again until you're a babbling, cockdrunk mess.

And him, well, he's pussydrunk and talking dirty. Oh God, he's saying the most absolute filthy things and it's going straight to your core. Making your eyelashes flutter and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I'm gonna fuck this cunt til you're begging mercy, til you pass out tonight from being over fucked.”

The sounds of skin slappy skin loudly and lewdly echoed throughout your bedroom.

“Fuck…I forgot how tight and perfect your pussy feels ‘round my cock.” Coryo groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as he pounds your pussy. “Your cunt's my cunt. I own this cunt, it's mine.” He told you with a possessive edge in his baritone. “Say it. Say your cunt’s mine. Mine!” He loudly orders, gritting his teeth as he feels you begin to clench around his cock.

Your head's spinning and your feeling the damn of pleasure beginning to burst as you babble out in a whine, “My cunt's yours, Coryo. All yours.”

His dogtags are jiggling against the hollow of your neck with every fast thrust your best friend makes. You're about to cum and don't even think as you grab the dogtags and yank on them, pulling Coryo flush against you. His mouth his mere inches against yours as you cry out, “I'm gonna cum, Coryo.”

“Cum right now, for me. Cum right now like my good girl, my good little slut.” Coryo demanded as he began to slam into your cunt even harder.

You don't know if it's his words or his fast movements, but suddenly your cumming and he's swallowing up your moans with eager, desperate kisses.

And when you're down riding out the wave of your orgasm, Coryo pulls his lips from his and tells you in a deep, lustful tone, “I’m gonna fuck you full of my babies. I'm gonna cum so hard in you; knock you up and baby trap you with me, darling.” A smirk crosses his face as he cum heavy balls smacked hard against your pussy. “You want that, huh? For me to knock ya up, tie your slutty ass to me forever.” His lips nibbled under your jawline as he declared, “You're gonna look so beautiful full and round of my child.”

“Yea.” You simply say. You honestly couldn't say anything else. Your brain’s been fucked to mush right now.

Coryo buries his neck into the crook of your neck as he slams hard and harder into you. His fingers are digging into your hips with a bruising; possessive force. And it only took a few more moments before his thrusts grew ragged and sloppy. One, two, three more thrusts and he was moaning your name like a prayer while shooting thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside of your cunt.

A cunt that he claimed was his.

He collapsed on top of you, panting wildly as he deeply inhaled your scent. Oh, how Coryo missed the way you smelled. It was always pleasant, like spring flowers.

And, honestly, you missed the way that he smelled. Even being thousands of miles away in 12 did nothing to dapper his scent of roses. You concluded that it must be his cologne.

Coryo felt the need to cockwarm you after being away from the warmth of your pussy for so long and you let him. He rested his head against your chest and you just scratch his scalp with your nails. You're both content.

“Y/N, baby.” Coryo said, as a way to gain your undivided attention.

“Yea, Coryo.” You reply, letting him know that you're listening.

“I was supposed to go to District 2 for an Elite Officer's training program, but instead I was sent here, to the Capitol, to have a meeting with Dr. Gaul. She said that my brilliant mind and talents would be a waste in the Peacekeepers, so she arranged for me to be honorably discharged by President Ravenstill. She also told me that Strabo Plinth's going to pay for my University tuition as a thank you for being best friend with Sejanus.” Was the lengthy explanation to his return that Coryo gave you.

An explanation that was a bit much to digest. But you digested it, nevertheless.

“That's good, Coryo. I'm happy for you.” You say, feeling both happy and sad at the same time. Oh, yes, you're happy that Coryo's getting the chance to follow his dreams, but sad because you're not sure that you can follow yours. That you'll be attending University soon with him.

“I'm meeting with Strabo tomorrow; I'll tell him to pay for your tuition too.”

WHAT?! HES WHAT!? WHAT THE HELL?!...

“Coryo, you don't have to do that. I'll figure something out.” You told him, letting him know that you didn't need him trying to get one of the richest men in the city to pity you.

“Of course I have to do it, darling. I promised to take care of you and to pay your tuition; I intend to keep that promise.”

“You also promised to make me your First Lady.” You mumble under your breath.

Playfulling nibbling your neck, the platinum blonde told you, “I heard that, baby.” Lifting his head, he locked his icy blues eyes onto yours and swore in a firm, unmoving tone, “And you'll be my First Lady. I promise, Y/N.”

You & Coriolanus Age 20:

Something happened during his time away in 12 that changed Coryo. He's always been a stoic, studious man, but now there was something different about him. Your best friend seemed colder now. As if he locked a piece of his soul up in a chest, just like Davey Jones has his heart locked up in a chest.

Dead Man's Chest.

Other than the night you spent when he first came home, Coryo never showed you affection anymore. Yes, he touched you and held you, etc, but there didn't seem to be much warmth in his actions. There wasn't any love in it. Or at least to you it didn't feel like there was any love and affection behind his touches.

But, he does walk you to your various classes at the University and drags you to lunch with the group of ‘it’ kids. The heirs to Panem's riches, the people that he needs to run elbows with to get ahead in life.

You know how to act around rich kids. You've been playing chameleon for so many years now around these snotty assholes that you know what to and what not to say. What silverware to use, how to daintily sip on your water glass, and how to cut your food into small pieces to take small, precise bites to make you look like a proper Capitolite young lady.

One afternoon Coryo wasn't waiting for you outside of your class, so you figured that he wasn't showing and decided to head towards the courtyard. Hey, if he's not here then you might as well just go sit in the early spring sun that's begun to melt the snow.

Coryo's the only reason you eat lunch in the mess hall. If you don't have to be around Festus Creed, Persephone Price, Livia Cardew, Clemensia Dovecote, and Hilarious Heavensbee, then you're not going to be around them. Well, you have nothing against Clemmie or Hilarious, it's the first three jackasses that you can't stand.

And the fact that Coryo's ‘beat friends’ with Festus now makes your skin crawl. Only God knows what those two are getting up to when they're hanging out. Probably getting shit faced at the club and fucking high priced hookers in excluse VIP rooms or something.

But it's not like you have a say so in the matter. You and Coryo are- well, you hook up and he keeps you hanging on to false hopes that he's going to make you his permanent girl; make the two of you public and exclusive.

You should really wash your hands of him and move on. Perhaps listen to your mother and take up one of the offers of marriage you've been approached with by some rich men. Your mother was very upset that you turned down General Prometheus Byzantine when he came by for dinner last night with a marriage brokerage proposal.

General Byzantine said that his friend, Mr. Strabo Plinth, had told him that you're a lovely and intelligent girl who's of age. That despite being raised in the Capitol, you were born in District 12 in PK Base D-12’s Hospital; that you're half-Capitolite and half-District, but would make him a lovely wife. Especially when he's needed on PK Base D-2 to inspect how the current Commander's doing their job. Plus, he also said how he wanted a young wife that would be able to keep up with his young son, who was nearly 5.

You turned him down in 2.5 seconds flat. General Byzantine swore up and down that I'd be sorry for turning him down. That Strabo would hear about your refusal; that one day he'd have you.

Your mother was so distraught that you threw away such a great opportunity all because you have some sentimental feeling for the Snow boy. Your mother hates Coryo, so you're not surprised she blames him for you turning down the general.

Honestly, maybe she's right. Maybe you won't let yourself fancy the idea of settling down with anyone because you're holding out for him. Waiting for him to keep a silly promise he made to you.

You're in an alcove, almost to the courtyard, whenever the sound of running paired with a shout of, “Y/N, wait!”, loudly echoes in the air. Stopping and turning around, you see Coryo rushing towards you. “I'm sorry I wasn't there to get you, darling. My professor went over his lecture time; I was stuck listening to him answer questions asked by the most idiotic pupils I've ever had the displeasure of sharing a class with.” The platinum blonde, who now wears his curls styled in a slick back hairdo, explained as he reached your side.

“That's okay.” You smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes. “I figured you got tied up and decided to just go sit in the courtyard.”

“I know, that's why I ran all the way here to find you.”

“What? You knew I'd be in the courtyard and not the mess hall?” You asked in disbelief.

“I know you like the back of my hand” He nonchalantly shrugs. Taking your hand in his, he suggests, “Why don't we go sit in the courtyard and while we're basking in the sun on this fine spring day you can tell me all about the dress my cousin's making you for the upcoming Spring Ball.”

“Okay.” You nod, only to hold Coryo's hand and let him lead you to the courtyard. All the while gushing about the dress.

The dress that Tigris helped you come up with is light pink with white roses embroidered all over it with a sweetheart neckline and an A-line skirt. Tigris says that she'll get you white shoes and a white clutch to pair with it.

Upon hearing you tell him the color/pattern of the dress, Coryo feels a sense of pride. He also feels an obsessive sense of possession over you as well.

Giving you a huge, Cheshire cat like grin , the platinum blonde tells you, “I can't wait to see you in it, my darling rose.” His icy eyes twinkle slightly as he adds in, “I'll be sure to wear white and provide us with white roses.”

“You don't have to give me roses, Coryo. Not every girl wears a corsage to balls and galas nowadays you know.”

“Yea, I know, but those girls aren't you. They're not mine, so I'll keep providing you with roses and you'll keep wearing them.”

You and Coryo Age 22:

“Are you excited for graduation, darling.?” Coryo asks as your walking down the Capitol streets, heading back to the Corso after eating dinner at a nearby, but expensive, restaurant. Coryo took you out to celebrate passing your exams. To celebrate that he's the top of the class and that you're his right hand girl in the second spot.

He had told you that Snow lands on top with the winter rose standing tall in the snow. The little joke was silly, but it was a metaphor for how he was always number one and how you were always right by his side as number 2.

“Yes.” You nod, smiling wide. “I'm so excited to get that diploma in my hand and just, I dunno, get started living my life.”

“I understand how you feel, Y/N.” Coryo told you, running his thumb over your knuckles as he holds your hand. “I can't wait to take my place as the Head Gamemaker.”

“Didn't you get offered the position because Dr. Gaul got eaten by her electric eels after falling into their tank?”

“Yes, but she was already implementing all of my ideas; I was working as an Assistant Gamemaker too.” He explained, causing you to just nod and let out a hmm. “Do you want to be an Assistant Gamemaker? I could get you a position and-” Coryo began, only for you to cut him off.

You never heard what he wanted to tell you since you cut him off with your own news of, “I applied for a marketing job at Odair's Luxury Cruises; I got the job so I'll be working there.”

Coryo's eyes narrowed slightly and turned colder than ice. “I see.” He curly said, his nose turned up a bit, as his thumb stopped tracing your knuckles.

Well, if you didn't want to be by his side professionally then so be it. You can work for some cruise line that specializes in island cruises off of 4.

But he'll still have you in his bed. He's not giving up fucking you. Hell no, Coryo's going to fuck you until the day you die.

Fine, you don't need his help with a job, but you'll always need his help to cum. And he knows for a fact that he's ruined you, that you struggle to cum on your own fingers because of how good he fucks you- with his fingers, tongue, and cock.

Something in a store window caught your eye. It was a ring. It was a diamond ring in the shape of a snowflake. You didn't tell Coryo about it, fearing that he'd think you're trying to make him settle down and commit to you.

Coryo saw you eying up the diamond ring in the store window. He found the fact that your eyes locked longingly onto the diamond ring shaped like a snowflake to be endearing. It also gave his already inflated ego a boost.

The next day the platinum blonde went to the store and bought the ring. He had the intention of giving it to you on graduation night, he honestly did, but then Strabo Plinth invited him and his family out to celebrate. And he couldn't say no to the man that made him his heir.

Coriolanus asked you to join them for dinner, but you declined. Said that you were expecting a call from your brother, since he couldn't get leave for your graduation. You told him to go and have a nice time; that you'd see him later.

Ma Plinth gave you a motherly hug full of warmth and told you that she'd be by the next day for tea. You smiled and jokingly told her that she better bring her famous biscochitos. Ma said that she would and told you to make some Earl Grey.

But your goodbyes with Strabo Plinth seemed more tight and rigid than usual. The curt congratulations and the curt thank you, goodbye you two exchanges irked him. And when Coriolanus brought it up to Strabo, well his benefactor just brushed it off by telling him that you must either be tired or that your manners aren't as polished as they seem.

Coryo never knew the real reason behind the curt and cold, but polite interaction between you and Mr. Plinth.

One day, when Coriolanus Snow's running for Senate at age 24 he'll find out and he won't be happy about it either.

Oh, and Coriolanus still has that ring. After not giving it to you after graduation he placed it in his desk drawer. He told himself that he just had to wait until the perfect moment to give it to you.

But the perfect moment never came. Time marched on and before he knew it, he's running for Senate, engaged to a woman he hates, and his being left by the woman he loves cares deeply for.

Coriolanus blinks his eyes, much like a cat does, and runs a hand over his face as soon as his last memory fades. “Fuck…” He lowly mutters out in a mix between a sigh and a groan while hitting the accept hire button option on his computer while viewing your application.

Leaning back in his chair, he runs his hands thru his hair before holding his head in shame. How could he fucking forget his promise to you. He never-

NEVER

EVER-

broke a promise to you, until now. How is he supposed to make you his Fist Lady when he's engaged to Livia and you're insisting that you don't love him anymore?

You're supposed to be by his side; be his First Lady. Livia Cardew, the cattybitch from hell, isn't First Lady material. She's not supposed to be in the Presidential Palace with him. Hell, she'll ruin the place and try to overrun it with her audacious ideas and style.

Coriolanus knows that he can't let her become his First Lady, not when he promised you that position. Hell, he promised to make you his First Lady ever since he was like 8 years old. And he kept promising you that ever since. 

Fuck, when he he stop promising that? Uh, as far as he knows the answer is never.

Goddamnit, no wonder you're so pissed at him about his engagement to Livia. But why didn't you just tell him that he's breaking his promise to make you his First Lady by being engaged to her? It's all the two of you ever dreamed about when growing up poor and destitute; desperately wanting to claw your way out of poverty. Why wouldn't you tell him that he's shattering your dreams of becoming his First Lady by getting into an arrangement with somebody else?

Damnit, he shouldn't have listened to Strabo when he told Coriolanus that a marriage alliance between him and Livia Cardew would provide him with endless money for his campaign; would provide him with a stake in one of the largest banks in the country. He should've listened to his gut and told old man Plinth no. Actually, he should've told Mr. Plinth to shut up and go to hell whenever he suggested that Coriolanus send you to some luxury Capitol run and operated spa lodge in a remote section of District 1 to be kept as his mistress.

Hell…

Now he needs to find a way out of his engagement to fulfill his promise to you. He just has to make you his First Lady. He never breaks his promises to you and never lies to you. You mean too much to him to do so.

Then, a brilliant idea pops into the platinum blonde's cunning mind. If the Cardew family's disgraced then he'll be able to call off the engagement without looking like the bad guy. And the only way to disgrace a banking family is to frame them for bank fraud.

Specifically embezzlement.

***** TAGLIST*****

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @dcylight-fciry @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, angst, yearning, reminiscent

word count: 3k

cherry here!...you guys, this is it! while i am sad to see it end, i am also so happy for those who tagged along and read this little mini series; i love you all. and so i ask: can i break your heart one last time?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 6

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“I can explain!” you gasp, eyes frantically glazing over to where Charles messily packs his suitcase. “Please, just let me—”

“Sure.”

You come to a sudden halt, blink, and a single tear falls. The Monegasque smiles gently, though a red tint paints his cheeks from trying to not explode due to his fury.

Nothing but a squeak escapes, struggling to find the right words. You felt pathetic; like the worst person to ever walk earth because you were the worst person to ever walk earth. He almost wants to laugh and you can tell by how his lips tug upward in the slightest, and that itself makes you want to hurl over sobbing. This was all a joke to him, of course it was.

The brunette takes long strides over to where you stand in the kitchen, weakly leaning against a wooden chair to help your legs to not give out. You had been so surprised you were even able to run up to the house, clumsily twisting the knob and looking for him. He crunches down a bit, looking down at you with dark eyes, and grabs your face with his right hand. You wince.

“Let me make things easier for you; did you know who I was when we first met at the beach?”

“N-no. I swear to God that I did not know a single thing about you—”

“Did you ever truly enjoy my company as a friend?”

You breath hitches at him even considering the possibility that you never did, but he takes it the wrong way as his jaw clenches. “Of course I did! Charles, you’re the best thing that has—”

“And did your boss ask for you to write this article or was that all your idea?” 

The light in his eyes have long dimmed, but your answer crushes the rest of his soul as you look down at his chest and then back at his stern glare. “It was all mine.”

It’s all a blur, and you’re sure you let out a yell when he disconnects from you and wipes his hand across the table, sending a singular plate flying before it roughly hits the floor and recklessly shatters. For a while, it’s complete silence; you can faintly hear the sound of crickets, the wind that sings, his ragged breath and your silent pleas. It’s both beautiful and ugly, all at the same time.

You’re sure to be careful and step around the porcelain dish, steadily making your way over to him. It kills you when he stumbles back as you inch closer; as if you were some type of toxin he knew best to stay away from. It took him a while, but he knew that now.

“The reason I came to the Amalfi Coast was to get away from work; the pressure, the—”

“You think you’re the only one?” he spits out sourly. “You’re not fucking special, we all have our own shit! Except some of us are decent human beings and don’t seek other people for our own benefit.” The twenty-six year old shakes his head. “Grow up.”

The room is spinning, and the walls are closing in on you, but you continue. “I never had the intention of hurting you and I swear I didn’t know who you were up until Nico. He mentioned enough for me to grow curious and that’s when I searched you up.” You release a shaky breath, chest tightening like a fist. “My parents never believed I could make a living out of journalism. No one did.”

Charles stands quietly, orbs tracing your breathless state. “I kept trying to be the best, but everyone was always five steps ahead of me, and I…” Returning your attention back up, you grimace, aware of what you’re about to confess. “And I thought having a Formula One driver as a friend might help get me there.” 

When he doesn’t answer, it allows you to drown in an ocean of shame, finding it hard to face his guarded stare. As a way to pass time, you lick your salty lips, runny nose making you cringe. 

“A-and then I got to know you.” Don’t do that, he warns coldly, but you push past it. The room is arctic almost, but you try to find strength and warmth in between the memories. “And for the first time in all my years of living, I felt at peace with someone who was my own reflection. You make it so easy; you’re kind, down to earth, funny in all senses, and you never fail to make my heart feel like it's going to fly out of my chest.” The rest of your words get stuck in your throat despite stupidly trying to say them out loud. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like it.

“At first I felt bad, but my hands were still able to move against my keypad; I was sure you would understand. But the more time we spent together and grew closer to one another, I knew that would never be the case. And my fingers felt stiff, they weren’t my own, but I had to do it—my job depended on it, Charles,” you whisper.

The Monegasque had never felt so conflicted in his life, not even when debating whether to resign with Ferrari. A part of him understood completely, and the other was torn. Okay, he murmurs, awkwardly pinching the tip of his nose and then releasing. “If you need this so badly, you could’ve been honest. I won’t be untruthful and say that I wouldn’t have been a bit thrown off, but not disappointed like I am now.” The blow punches a staggered breath out of you, fumbling back, dragging the chair along.

“That’s the thing though…you should have asked for permission,” he pressed, tone harsh, distant, venomous. “And yet you didn’t. You went behind my back, just like everybody else. I actually thought…” His voice cracks and he looks away, blinking rapidly as if pushing back his own tears. “God, I’ve been so stupid thinking you actually cared enough to get to know me.”

Somehow the ability to move re-enters your body, instantly drawing you closer but still giving him enough space. “I did—I do care. I care a lot. Because I’m like that—that is who I am! You’re it for me, Charles; I fucking care.” There. The words were right there once again, and yet you continue vowing anything but them. You’ve run out of breath, ran out of words, and you could only wish there was something there valuable enough for him to accept. 

The brunette seems to understand your revelation, even if you think he doesn’t. It makes his heart palpitate as if he just ran a marathon and he hates it. He hates that it had to be this way. In some other dimension, he confesses first. He admits defeat because that’s how worthy you were to him. Because he loved you. And you loved him. But that’s somewhere else; somewhere far away—something far too unattainable. 

“You’ve used everything against me, what more do you want?”

The waves must’ve heard your conversation because the once wild sound is now slow, gentle, soft. You almost wish they picked up for your own sake; to swallow the sound of your whimpers. “I told you about Lewis’ contract in confidence, but good for you—you’re the first one who will release the news, so, you got it. I’m sure everyone will congratulate you for that.”

“Drugs aren’t a joke, but did you really have to out me like that? It was my choice, sure, but did you even think about what will follow?” He scoffs. “You’ll get clicks, millions, but I’ll get looked down on by everyone around me. The media, my team, my fans.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind, God, why hadn’t it crossed your mind? You open your mouth and then snap it back shut. Charles runs a hand across his jaw. “But fuck, I don’t care about any of that—not as much as the pin.”

“Charles—”

“That was between you and me. My father was a clever man; a believer. I’m neither of those things, but I’ve tried my absolute best. And you’ve killed the last bit of it.” You suck in a breath; you can feel your eyes getting smaller, skin puffier. “Do you know how hard it is to have faith in yourself as a driver? It’s exhausting.” A beat. “But that golden horse was enough for me to keep going and now it’s tainted.”

There’s no more sounds flying past your lip, but the acid rain hasn’t slowed down, only intensified. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen, Charles…I am so sorry.” Closing the gap in between you two, you thread your brows together softly. “If I could take it all back, I would. I would have never gotten an interview out of you without your knowledge, y-y-you have to believe me,” you plead. He only nods, green eyes flickering down to your rosy lips, then shut tight. When he opens them, it hurts, because you don’t recognize them anymore.

“You took it from me…But I would’ve given it to you.”

-

The atmosphere is something astonishing; the colorful fireworks, the deafening cheers, the cameras, the podium celebration—it truly took your breath away. And  he deserved all of it. 

It’d be half-witted to think he would agree to this; he had every right to turn you down. Rightfully so, he could have. He should have, you think to yourself as you nervously click your pen. You didn’t keep in touch after that summer, so it made perfect sense for you to think that he would look rather different.

But as he makes his way over, chatting with his PR manager, he looks just the same. Yes, he’s older; a bit more tired looking than the last time you saw him, much leaner, and his smiling crinkles have expanded like a beautiful sight. But he was still Charles to you.

“Congratulations,” you quip when he reaches you with a knowing look. Stuttering, you point over at the screen that replays his terrific race. “Y-y-you were incredible. World Champion, eh?” Complete silence. Can we get a minute to ourselves? The older lady hesitantly agrees, strolling away. You click faster, heart rate picking up as you watch her go. 

The Monegasque licks his lips. “You showed up.”

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear fans screaming his name, the flashes shuttering brightly; you’re honestly impressed you were able to find a place to talk. “I said I would, no? I, um, also have this…” You extend your hand out towards him and his breath hitches, 

Nothing would ever shine as bright as gold. His trophy is utter counterfeit compared to the prancing horse that winks back at him. His green eyes blink slowly for a while, almost as if he doesn’t recognize it, but that quickly dies as he reaches for it. 

His simple touch grazes past you but it zaps you to the point where you jump up a bit, and he does too. The fireworks up in the open sky were doing a fantastic job at interpreting what you were feeling at that very moment. Charles clears his throat, orbs tracing his reward. His golden cup was great, but this?

“Thank you.” And it sounds so sincere that you almost release a cry. “I really appreciate you keeping your word. I know I didn’t keep mine.”

He hadn’t. But you understood. The wedding invitation had been sent to him and he never responded. He never showed up. You never figured out why you were so surprised, but you were. “You were busy. I get it.”

Tension lingers. “How’s work?”

Work was great; easier. You guess that's what happens when everyone finally applauds you. It took a lot of strength for you to publish the article, but you did it anyway. Do it, he mumbled that night as he walked out of your life for three years. Don’t let all of this be for nothing. 

Running your sweaty palm against your dress, you hum. “I’m chief executive now.” The Monegasque lets out an impressed whistle and for the first time since you landed in Abu Dhabi, you smile. “Eleanor retired a while ago and apparently loves me now.”

“How could she not?” You grow stiff. “How is Grayson? I’m sure the wedding was great, by the way.”

His eyes flicker down at your ring and you beam. His heart breaks just a bit when your eyes stare down in adoration. “He’s amazing—he’s right over there, actually.” Your husband is far enough away, but he could still see it all. The little boy giggles up at his father and you laugh. 

Charles smiles. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thank you. But tell me, champ; how do you feel? This shit doesn’t happen everyday, now does it?” 

“A lot of work and patience, but it all worked out at the end. Which I’m glad because I was close to blowing my brains out.” You playfully pout, red lips curling into a familiar look. 

“Still going to stick around?”

“A couple years or so…” His gaze shifts over at the rest of the grid who eye you two suspiciously. Even to them it was clear that there is history that will always remain. “I think I could do it.”

You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulder. “I know you can, Cha.” The newly World Champion freezes and then shakes his head, avoiding your vibrant eyes. “Question,” you mumble.

“Ears,” he retorts, voice painted with humor.

“Do you ever…” You’re too embarrassed to finish your sentence, too afraid to face the possible answer. The Monegasque chuckles, a single hand over his heart and it takes you back to your last day with him in Italy where the weather was perfect.

“No regrets.”

His confirmation shouldn’t have been enough to reduce your forever heartbreak, but it manages enough. Releasing a weak exhale, you curiously peek over to where he retreats a gem. Your gem. The shiny pearl radiates, nearly making you blind, but it's new look is something that tugs at your heartstrings.

“Where did you…how did you?”

He shrugs, slipping it onto your ring finger; but on the right hand as the left now had an owner you loved back. “A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend a while ago and I had it laying around and I just…” You blink with glossy eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” A wet laugh slips out, hugging him like a blanket. You chew on your bottom lip. “I’m so happy you kept it safe; thank you so much.” He blushes, large hands brushing his damp hair back. “You know, sometimes…sometimes I think about you.” His name is mentioned on the large screen, but he’s not concerned by any means. Green eyes are focused on you; they always have been. “It’s mainly in the shape of a nightmare, but hey…” He winces. You continue. “It’s not your fault though, I brought it upon myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “But don’t worry about it anymore; I forgive you.”

You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders. You don’t even care how sweaty he is, you don’t at all. You’ve kissed him twice in your life, but this had to be the best interaction you’ve had. You didn’t deserve it—you were well aware—but he had always been kind. Even to people like you. 

Hot tears slide against his red fireproofs and he doesn’t dare pull away. Your sweet scent was still the same, but more mature. Your body was just as he remembered, but he could feel the small belly forming; you’re someone's home. He swears he feels a kick and his heart stops. Alas, you pull away with a rosy nose and swollen eyes. You giggle, wiping your teardrops. 

“I think about you all the time, too.” He fiddles with his fingers. “But mine aren’t nightmares; they’re dreams.” A heave leaves you, pursing your lips. “They’re blurry, but they’re my favorite. In them, you didn’t step all over my heart. In them, you’re mine. And in them, I’m yours.” The pearl glistens harder. “And in them, I tell the truth that’s stuck with me from the moment you stepped foot on stage, rusty microphone in hand.” 

He must think you’re having a breakdown by the way you crazily stare at him, but you’re not. You practice the shape of his nose, his lips, his brows. You admire his freckles, his watercolor eyes. Since when did they have a pinch of gray?

Charles takes a step towards you, but gets caught by the gate that separates you both. It’s up to his hips and he curses for it even being there. But then again; it was a sign. You must realize that too when you sigh sadly, delicate hands tracing the cold metal. “I loved you then.” A beat. “And I love you now.”

A sob is all heard as your face disappears, pressed against your hands, hiding. They grow louder and everyone must assume he made the pretty journalist cry or maybe it was her pregnancy. Maybe it was both. Separating to look up at him, you smile melancholic. “Do I even have to tell you too?”

“You don’t have to,” he clarifies. “Because I know.”

The feeling was bittersweet; it was more than that, but you would survive. Everything will forever stay in the Amalfi Coast, and you will cherish it all. 

The Monegasque knocked out on the beach. The bar. Nico. The AirBnB. The love. The heartbreak.

Both ends were content. You would never truly get over that last summer, but you had others to care for now. He would never truly heal, but for now his job kept him busy. You were both at your prime. Just not together. 

Clicking your pen, you nudge your notebook with a weak smile. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…Can I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[yuri-is-online]

Love and Deepspace Timeline: Xavier

This is all speculation and should not be taken as fact, I have made a previous post about Zayne, but as stated there I do not have the necessary cards to make one for Rafayel and will direct you to this post by u/joonmin on the love and deepspace subreddit. This post is being made before I have managed to complete the Myths date (as soon as I hit level 55 it is over for you hos) and will be updated at some point once I have finished it, but I think I have enough information to explain Xav's overall timeline and hopefully clear up a few things for people missing his cards.

I have included a TL;DR at the end of the post for people who don't want to get lost in the weeds of theorizing.

Some information from that post about Zayne will be re-hashed here to help provide context about the game's setting. SPOILERS FOR ALL IN GAME CONTENT UP TO CHAPTER 8, VARIOUS MOMENTS, AND ANECDOTES, PROCEED WITH CARE.

Current Timeline

The current timeline where the main story of LAD takes place is set in the year 2048 in a place called Linkon City. We are told that the Deepspace Tunnel opened 14 years prior and that is when wanderers started invading earth. There is a lack of understanding about why this has happened, and it has sparked an interest in space exploration in the hopes of finding a solution.

The Hunters Association is sort of like an adventurers guild? It's supervised by the government, and is sort of split between Hunters like MC and researchers attempting to understand what makes the wanderers tick.

This includes researching protocores, currently the only thing the hunter's association knows for sure is that they contain a great deal of energy, and that they can cause disease in humans based off of which category the protocore falls into. This is confirmed the be what is wrong with MC, and appears to be a problem all versions of her share.

The events immediately following the opening of the Deepspace Tunnel are referred to as the Catastrophe due to the amount of destruction caused by the influx of wanderers. This is what birthed the N109 Zone. According to the in game Spacepedia, it is surrounded by various other "no-hunt" zones, which it further clarifies as being places with "a chaotic Protofield and frequent Wanderer appearances," i.e. really dangerous places for people to live let alone go to. Civilians are outright banned and hunters need special permission to enter because of just how dangerous these places are considered to be.

Unlike Zayne and Rafayel, Xavier does not have an alternate self yet. The versions of him in his myths card and all of his anecdotes are all the same person, just at various points in his long life. The technicality of this is addressed in one of the shareable posts: Immortality No Longer A Dream! The article goes into detail about how a new biotech company using protocores to regenerate the heart. You can share this article with each of the three boys, who have different types of reactions, but Xavier's is not one of surprise or skepticism, but of acceptance. The article itself talks about immortality as something everyone will one day be able to accomplish, but Xavier disagrees.

Xavier's first two anecdotes, A Special Vacation and Passing By, both establish how exactly he has been living his life on earth since his arrival. We learn that he has been doing his best to keep a low profile by moving between various jobs and tries to avoid making friends. As mentioned by @exactlycleverpirate in the replies of this post (who has made their own timeline you can check out here) "Xavier says he has been on Earth for 214 years, and that this will be his last. That means he arrived in 1834. We also see in one of his Tender Moments, that he rented a book from the library 30 years ago. So he has definitely been on Earth longer than the Deepspace tunnel has been around." Chapter 8 ends tells us that soon Earth and Philos will be in alignment for the first time in billions of years, which is likely why Xavier says this year will be his last, but I am unclear about what exactly that will cause.

We learn that there are other immortals from the same place as Xavier living in Linkon City, and that some of the see him as a traitor. We can assume that many of these immortals are involved with Onychinus due to Xavier's knowledge of and interest in their organization.

It's not clear how or when Xavier chose to start working as a Deepspace Hunter, but the other jobs he's taken all seem to be related to the military/evol combat. He is also very keen on fighting wanderers, so being a hunter is a good way for him to hide in plain sight. Which is what he has been trying to do.

His Precious Bonfire date suggests he has been a hunter longer than MC and has a reputation of not participating in team events. He has the highest level of access to the Hunters Association database and seems to have a good working relationship with Jenna, who seems content to let him do his own thing. She also attempted to assign MC as his partner, in part seemingly because she wants to protect MC's evol.

There is of course also the concept of Lumiere, a legendary hunter who appears during the catastrophe caused by the Deepspace Tunnel and wreaked any wanderer he came across. He has a light evol, a giant bounty on his head, and looks exactly like Xavier when we see his wanted poster in Chapter 8. While MC might have her doubts, since we the reader know Xavier is immortal, it's not much of a jump to say these two hunters are the same person.

Chapter 8 gives us more detailed look at the exact dynamics these immortals have with each other, but I think it makes sense to talk about Xavier's origins first so we know where he is coming from.

Philos Timeline

As I said on my other post, all of the Myths cards take place on the planet of Philos. In the present timeline, Philos is no longer a planet, just a lonely core floating in deepspace at the other end of the deepspace tunnel. In Xavier's third anecdote, When Shooting Stars Fall, we finally learn what Philos is: it's Earth. An Earth that has been reborn by substituting the planet's old core with an artificial one and with a different name.

Now this anecdote takes place in the year 214, which is explained to us as meaning 214 years has passed since Earth was destroyed and reborn as Philos. How does that make sense if we are currently on a very much alive earth with a very dead Philos on the other end of the Deepspace Tunnel? No clue, but I think that's going to be one of the main focuses of the story. Something had to happen to Earth to make it become Philos, and then something happened to Philos to make it uninhabitable. Given what we know, both are likely related to wanderers.

I also want to briefly mention that in Rafayel's myths card, it is mentioned that the sea is missing so the Lemurians have no home. Based off of MC's description of the weather and how "fragmented landmasses" are being held together, I wonder if the re-birth of Earth as Philos is what caused the seas to dry up? And if so what role did MC have in the creation of Philos if any?

This anecdote is from the pov of MC who is studying at a school she simply refers to as "The Academy." It is unclear if this is the same school as she and Xavier are attending in his Lightseeker cards, but based off the uniform he wears and the sword he carries I think this is likely meant to be a highschool of some sort, and the Astria Knyght Academy is a form of military school equivalent to a college.

Xavier's words about immortality being a privilege come into play here as we learn something about MC: she always seems to have heart problems, specifically she always seems to have Protocore Syndrome, the exact same disease she currently has. In this anecdote she explains it as being a birth defect that has only one cure, a special protocore. One that supposedly can cure any illness.

Protocore disease prevents the patient from living forever, something Xavier finds very hard to accept. He abandons MC for a month without telling her where he is going to try and find this Protocore that she needs to live, but comes back too late. By the time he finds her, the core can't save her and he holds her as she dies. She asks if he thinks they will meet in her next life and he promises to always wait for her.

We know current timeline MC has shards of an Aether core in her heart, and that her heart is currently stable. While the anecdote does not outright say that the cure to Protocore Syndrome is an Aether core, Xavier's knowledge of them and his emotions when MC brings them up to him makes me think it probably is. Currently we do not know how an Aether core can be obtained, other than (assuming that is what he brought MC) Xavier was injured getting one. The MC here says she is unable to live for more that a century, something that has changed in her next re-incarnation but we don't know why.

When MC re-incarnates she is brought under the tutelage of the Grandis Knight, the personal knight and retainer to the King of Philos. Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, and is also studying under swordplay under the Grandis Knight. She has no memories of Xaveir, who does not tell her about their shared past despite holding on to the gift she made for him: a star sword tassel. This doesn't seem to bother him as much as you might expect, he mostly just seems happy to have her alive again.

She is stupid jealous of that tassel because Xavier openly admits to being in love with the girl who gave it to him. But he also speaks about her and the MC in the same sentence if that makes any sense? He sees both versions of her as her, and just as he promised he intends to wait for her so they can be together.

Xavier is an interesting character (to me anyway) because he has a pretty clear arc to his attitude towards his relationship with MC as he ages. He starts off as being shy in the third anecdote, then he moves to being openly teasing and affectionate (outright asking to elope and saying things that make it sounds like they might have been betrothed) in his lightseeker cards, to how he is at the end of his myths date and currently with MC: restrained in his interactions with her but unable to completely keep himself away. Why he has become restrained, why he thinks he needs to distance himself from MC is unclear. What is clear is that he has no interest in taking the throne from his father, a man he actively hates and does not seem to see eye to eye with. While their relationship seems to have always been tense, the breaking point is during Xavier's Gladius Ceremony.

The Gladius Ceremony is a sort of coming of age ceremony where the heir proves their ability to ascend the throne by killing a wanderer with nothing but their lightblade. Something happened during that trial that Xavier does not want to talk about and MC mentions he has "changed" since then. Like he left part of himself behind????

As an interesting note this trial takes place in a forest, a sentient forest much like No-Hunt Zone 7 in chapter three.

Xavier says he cannot be the man his father wants. What his father wants is not clear, but I personally think it has something to do with what wanderers are as Xavier seems to have a degree of sympathy towards them if they show a degree of sentience. It also might have something to do with how Philos was made, as both MC and Xavier acknowledge that the planet is dying.

The MC mentions that Xavier leaves her a lot but always comes back within a specified time frame. He goes on expeditions into Deepspace, but never tells MC what he is looking for and we as a reader do not learn. He does, however, mention finding a newborn planet filled with flowers and offers to take MC there if she will give up on being a knight. She is confused, as her entire life's purpose has been to be his knight, and doesn't fully comprehend a world where Xavier isn't going to be king.

But the card story starts with MC being crowned Queen, with Xavier as her Grandis knight, so we know that's what will happen. So neither of them got what they wanted in the end.

The "Lightseeker" title of Xavier's card refers to a unit of knights that are commanded by the Crown Prince and answer only to the royal family. Their duty is to keep Philos safe from Wanderers, much like the modern day Hunter's Association. Both the MC and Xavier are training to become Lightseekers, and have a sort of rivalry for the spot. MC keeps beating Xavier when they spar but he seems to have the stronger Evol so they're quite equally matched. It's stupid cute how everyone but Jeremiah thinks they hate each other, speaking of which:

Jeremiah is a friend of MC's in the same class as her. He's also her wingman who keeps trying to help set her and Xavier up, something Xav doesn't seem fully aware of. He's stupid jealous of their friendship which Jeremiah seems to find really funny (he's the only one who knows how delulu they are for each other and seems to find a lot of enjoyment in teasing them.)

Jeremiah also ends up being a knight under MC's command after they graduate the academy. Xavier however... goes missing after a meeting with his father and does not reappear even after he dies. He is missing for a period of 200 years until MC finds him again in the same forest that his Galdius Ceremony took place in. He saves her from... something. An illusion? A cosmic vortex? Whatever it was Xavier has discovered something that affects the health of people's hearts. And he seems determined to not get close to MC or let MC get close to him because of it.

I think it might just be because she is about to die from her disease, which she doesn't seem aware she has but always does, and Xavier doesn't want to have to watch her die again. But I haven't finished the card yet so I don't know.

He also seems to be under the impression the whole world is going to end now, and not just Philos.

The last thing we need to take from all of this information about Philos is the existence of a group called the Backtrackers. Xavier was with them once, but he isn't anymore. MC was seemingly under their care and, according to his Passing By anecdote, traveled through the Deepspace Tunnel with them but was lost. I'll explain more about what I think about them now that we're ready to return to the present timeline, but just know that the Backtrackers are A) from the Philos timeline and B) likely immortal just like Xavier is.

Back to the Present

In Chapter 8 you are either introduced or re-introduced to Jeremiah, who now owns a flower shop called Philo, likely named after his home planet of Philos. He is a friend of Xavier's and they both share the same current goals, which includes protecting the MC. Jer's job in this chapter is to provide MC with a fake identity to use in the N109 zone, but he does provide us with some information to try and tie up some loose ends with Xavier's timeline.

While the Nonintervention principal he refers to probably does have something to do with MC, it also likely just refers the fact that since both Xavier and Jeremiah are from Philos and therefore the future they are trying not to interfere with the timeline too much. Something that whoever blew up MC's house does not care about anymore, implying that if that was indeed Onychinus then we can assume they likely are also immortals from Philos who want MC and her Aether core for something.

When MC finds Xavier again after his 200 year disappearing act he is leading a squad of Lightseekers from various units. I think these are probably the Backtrackers, and that there was a split in the group after the MC and the Aether core went missing during their journey into the Deepspace Tunnel. We know that at least Xavier has been here longer than the Deepspace Tunnel has been, but there is room for speculation around Jeremiah and the others. As Pirate again pointed out in the comments, whatever disaster during the travel the Backtrackers took into the Deepspace Tunnel likely caused them to arrive at a bunch of different points in time.

While this confirms that Xavier and Jeremiah are not from this timeline it raises a lot of questions about MC. Her memory is constantly spotty, and I had wondered if that had something to do with the Aether core... but now.

With the way Xavier tries to limit his interactions with her and says he's the last person who should be trying to get close to her I wonder if Xavier is worried MC is being erased from time? Or if she belongs to this timeline so while he loves her, while he wants to be the one she chooses, he subconsciously knows he's from a doomed timeline and therefore unable to stay with her. This also raises questions about the other two love interests; we know MC has forgotten things about Rafayel and I theorized she has forgotten something about Zayne. Is this because they also don't belong? Does MC not belong? Or is it something related to the trauma MC experienced from being experimented on?

TL;DR

This was all pretty complicated so I thought I would sum up the basic points because I felt a bit incoherent.

Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, a future version of Earth that was created by replacing Earth's core with a fake one.

This fake core allowed the citizens of Philos to live forever unless they had the rare heart condition know as Protocore Syndrome, something the MC always has no matter how many times she is reborn.

The cure to Protocore Syndrome is a rare Protocore that Xavier tries to get for her but gets back with too late. He watches her die and while he was already shown dislike seeing her injured, this seems to turn it into a genuine trauma of his. He is shown to be deeply distraught seeing her gravely injured or sick in multiple moments/dates and is determined to take care of her. In a rare decision by the writers, this does not appear to manifest itself as a desire to not see her engage in combat as he trusts her ability to take care of herself, just maybe not her willingness.

MC is reborn and begins military training with Xavier intending to become his knight, but Xavier refuses to take the throne of Philos for reasons he does not share with MC. He also begins disappearing for long periods of time on journeys into space. On one of these journeys he finds a young planet filled with flowers and attempts to convince MC to elope with him and abandon her dreams of being a knight. He seems uncertain if MC's desire to be with him is just because she has been told she is to be his knight or if it is because she genuinely loves him; Xavier knows which one he wants it to be though.

After talking with his father he disappears for 200 years and founds a group of knights investigating a forest with an unstable Protofeild where killed Wanderers simply don't stay dead. It is my theory that these are the Backtrackers mentioned by past MC, Jeremiah, and Xavier.

Xavier arrives in this current timeline in year 1834. Other immortals from Philos begin to arrive in the current timeline at different points and agree upon something they call the Nonintervention Principal, likely to keep from destroying the spacetime continuum too much. What they are refusing to intervene in is unclear.

The Backtrackers made a journey through the Deepspace Tunnel with future past MC and an Aether core, but something goes wrong and she disappears. Xavier has been waiting to see her again ever since he got here, and intends to wait forever.

There are more immortals than just Xavier and Jeremiah living in Current Timeline Linkon City, some of which are very likely allied with Onychinus and searching for the MC. Why is related to the Aether core in her heart, but might also have something to do with her Evol.

It is my personal belief that many of these citizens of Philos used to be in the Backtrackers, but even if they didn't they see Xavier as a traitor to his people and more importantly to them. Why is unclear, but I imagine it might be because of their goals for the MC and her Aether core. In a broader sense it might be because they intend to do something to current earth to save their home, and Xavier disagrees with that but the two things do not seem mutually exclusive.

Earth and Philos are about to be in very close alignment, and both Xavier and Jeremiah expect something bad to happen around that time.

Final Thoughts

I would be interested in knowing the direct Chinese translation of these particular lines from precious bonfire to see if there is any difference to them... but honestly this is one of the things that sold me on him. She dies and he follows the traces of her light until he finds her again, and he tries to keep her alive but he fails and so he follows her again.

I saw at least one post wondering of Xavier will betray MC and rip the Aether core out of her heart, and I want to clear that up here. I understand why people might think this if they haven't read any of his anecdotes but no, that's not going to happen unless it's the only way to save MC's life. Xavier very much wants to keep MC alive, his efforts to distance himself and withhold information from her are always done to serve that goal.

Rafayel is the one who has a pretty good reason to want to cut out MC's heart, not Xavier. And I do mean good reason I don't really hate him for it and am not trying to imply he's a bad character or a bad romance option for it.

One of Xavier's immortal friends is name Noah. There is always a chance that this is a coincidence, but there's a part of me that wonders if he shares the same name as Dr Noah because they are the same person. The anecdote he appears in involves Xavier getting him a new identity so I don't think they're likely to be related.

I actually really like MC , Xavier, and Jeremiah's friendship and sort of hope it gets some focus in some small way in the future. Jer and Xav had to have bonded over losing MC, not to mention Jeremiah spent 200 years fighting Wanderers with MC under her command. She talks about him as being her best friend!!! I want to see more of him!!! (if he doesn't have a partner and if I can't have Tara x Jenna I should be allowed Tara x Jeremiah)

I'm worried there might be a plot point that involves Xavier dying in the future and then maybe we get to meet a different timeline version of him and end up on the opposite side of the "can't tell this ghost wearing your face how I really feel" spectrum.

Speaking of which I like how Xav seems to respect MC's current life and doesn't expect her to be a carbon copy of her past selves. It's nice (stares at critically acclaimed mmorpg villain Emet Selch)

Anyway that's it. I'll update the post when I finish the Myths card, which I fully expect to make me cry like a baby. If anything confused you my askbox is open, just because I write for twst doesn't mean I am not open to talking about this if I made mistakes or if you feel like any of this was unclear.

[circyexistforcontent]

SAGAU ZHONGLI AND TIME DILATION (SLEEPING EDITION)

❀ synopsis: you have been sleeping for a long time now and Zhongli is starting to worry, what if you never wake up?

❀ trigger warnings: mentions of panic attacks, comas (at least to them it seems like one), loneliness, mentions of death, religious themes, obsessive behavior.

❀ pronouns: they/them

It's been a long time since Zhongli has been this worried. You have been sleeping for 2 days without waking up. He knew that gods are not required to sleep since their bodies function fine without it. But your current form is painfully human, and you have gone on for months, almost half a year without sleeping. When you went to sleep for the first time Zhongli was relieved, but it slowly turns to dread when you have been asleep for 2 days straight.

He quickly hires the best doctors using Childe's mora stash (Which Childe was more than willing to give since it's related to you). And all of them couldn't find the problem with you sleeping for so long. Your body was functioning fine even though you haven't eaten for days, you didn't seem to be rotting and your heart is still beating. It was like you were sleeping.

More weeks pass and you still haven't woken up. Your sleeping form is currently with Ningguang, sometimes he would visit you and kneel at the side of your bed praying for you to wake up. He's never felt this helpless in a long time, it felt like he was sinking and each time he tries to hold onto something it phases through his hands.

Zhongli tries to stay strong for you, he would try and continue to do his best at his occupation. But to you, he easily gets overpowered by your control, his usually composed self being thrown away and replaced by a god desperate to please their creator. And to see you fall into such a state drives him insane. And he couldn't even do anything about it.

Hu Tao can only watch as her coworker slowly falls into madness. But he could care less about that, what matters right now is that your life must be hanging by a thread, a precious thread that's about to snap into two. He would soon start to unintentionally pressure the doctors to find a solution, and even call a certain alchemist to travel from Monstadt to Liyue to help find the problem.

But just like the doctors, Albedo couldn't find the problem. So instead of doctors hovering over your body 24/7, it was soon converted to weekly check-ups, during those check-ups Zhongli would wait by your side patiently to see the results and if anything changed.

Zhongli started a journal 3 weeks after you slept, he remembered how you like to ask about his day. So he started writing down what happened while you were slumbering, hoping when one day you do wake up (he hopes you will wake up) he can give this to you and you can read what happened.

Most of the entries consist of him hoping you were there to experience the day, wondering what you were dreaming about when you were asleep, and wishing that you would wake up soon. It became more of a diary than a journal, he didn't notice that though.

On days when the loneliness was too much to bare he would hold your hand, which was surprisingly warm (his heart would bleed even more if it was cold), and start praying. Begging that you don't leave and to just hold on a little longer, he can't go back to when you haven't descended. He doesn't know what he's going to do to himself if it came to that.

When you do wake up he will be short of breath before a wave of euphoria washes over him. Your awake, you didn't leave him. All he wanted to do at that moment was kneel before you and say how much he misses you.

Don't expect him to leave after that incident, after knowing what is was like without you his overbearingness will be doubled. You would have to get checked by a doctor every week, and if you decide to explain the time dilation between you and Teyvat (given if you even know about the time dilation situation) then he will do his best in finding a solution. Because he's pretty sure if he has to live again through the experience, he's going to break.

[crazyinluvfix]

PROLOGUE

FATAL ATTRACTION - a stiles stilinski story

summary: Sera Salvatore moved to Beacon Hills for a break from the supernatural. But her life was once again turned upside down when she and her two best friends get thrown head first into a world of werewolves and mystery. But it’s hard for her to protect her friends when a single werewolf bite is what could kill her for good…

WARNINGS: mentions of blood

a/n: this is just the intro ! future parts will be longer, that’s where the story really begins ;)

series masterlist

1.8k words

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Beacon Hills was supposed to be a sanctuary from all things supernatural.

After what felt like over a century (because it was), Sera Salvatore needed a break.

Which was admittedly a little hypocritical considering she herself was a vampire, but she was desperate for an escape from all the drama and chaos that her family - namely her brothers - had brought to Mystic Falls. So she decided to start afresh, again.

After only one year of living back in her hometown, she picked up and went to the furthest most point in the continental United States, which just so happened to land her here. From Georgia, all the way to sunny California. It would be a nice change.

She was fortunate enough that she could pass as quite young whenever she settled in a new place. With the help of makeup, clothing, and a healthy amount of dishonesty she managed to blend into freshman year at Beacon Hills High without anyone even batting an eye.

It was now one year ago today that she had started her first day, which turned out to be a breeze.

~

January 3rd, 2010

“You’re humiliating,” I expressed my annoyance flatly as I stood by the door, waiting for my brother to let go of my jacket that he had been straightening before I left the house.

He patted my shoulder with a motherly smile as if he was sending his child off to kindergarten, then took a step back to play the role further.

“Have you got everything?” he asked as he nodded to my bag.

I let out a breathy chuckle. I didn’t hate him as much as I let on… mostly.

“I packed you a blood bag for lunch,” he continued, that smirk of his right at home on his smug face - never a dull moment.

My hand reached for my keys on the side table as I walked backward towards the door, shaking my head to stop my lips from forming a smile of their own. “How thoughtful,” I retorted sarcastically.

But just as I was about to step outside I stopped to say one last thing, “Thanks for helping me move in and all,” my tone was much more genuine than it typically was when speaking to him, but I really was grateful.

Moving across the country would’ve been infinitely harder without his company on the road, and without being able to play the little sister card and sit back while he does the heavy lifting. But… and I would never admit it… but even now, starting a new school was just as scary as it always has been and a part of me liked that I had my big brother there to see me off.

I quickly cut our sappy little chat short with another comment, “But, I expect you to be gone when I get home.” I arched an eyebrow and pointed a finger at him.

He was definitely the fun brother, but with fun comes impulsivity - a trait that must be genetic, and must have skipped my twin - and with impulsivity comes a long string of ‘animal attacks’. And that was exactly the drama in question that I wanted to escape, so I had brought along a surplus of blood bags to hold me until I found a more permanent solution.

He held his hands up in surrender, “I’ll be out within the hour.”

“Okay. I’ll see ya,” I said finally as I stepped outside, hiding from the brisk winter cold in the confines of my leather jacket.

My words were met with another smile and a nod from my brother before he spoke again. “Tell me how it went when you’re home.” The protective mother was back. But this time, it wasn’t just a joke, he was lucky we had no witnesses since he’d hate to ruin his tough-guy persona.

I almost laughed at him again, but I didn’t. As humans me and my brothers were incredibly close, but over time that faded. Me and our other brother never really settled that, but over the past year back in Mystic Falls me and the eldest fell back into old patterns.

“I will,” I gave in with a joking eye-roll. “Bye Damon,” I waved his way.

“Bye Seffie,” he returned, getting a kick out of my suddenly sour face.

Seffie. A nickname he saddled me with at the age of 4 and has stuck with me ever since. But my real name was a mouthful, so I chose to go by Sera - a fact Damon will insist on disregarding for the rest of our eternal lives.

As I walked away my once friendly hand gesture turned into a middle finger as I heard him laugh behind me and shut the door as I made my way to my new school.

~

The moment I stepped foot in the doors I noticed some heads turn, some overheard whispers from passers-by that fuelled my ego just that bit more as I walked up to reception and signed in.

First-period English went smoothly, then it was History which ironically was focused on the confederacy (not me and my siblings' proudest fight). And it was safe to say the teacher was thoroughly impressed with my knowledge on the subject, little did he know I quite literally lived it.

But after class was when my day took a turn.

“1076, 1076,” I repeated under my breath as I went to scour the halls for my new locker, but the break rush made my search all the more difficult with what felt like a million people charging around.

But finally, I seemed to be in luck as I read the numbers to my right; 1080, 1079, 1078, 1077, and…

Crash.

I took a deep breath and a frustrated sigh at the smug-faced, blond jock who had just practically booked it into my side, knocking all of my books out of my hands, and causing me to jump at the deafening sound of them hitting the tile floor. ‘Great,’ I thought satirically. The prick didn’t even bother to look back! Let alone be kind enough to help me pick them back up again.

But someone else did. In fact, two other boys seemed to have played witness and immediately came scrambling up to my side.

“Hey, uh-” the one with darker features and a crooked jawline, giving him a somewhat goofy smile stuttered, stopping after his friend who stood politely next to him not-so-subtly jabbed him in the side with his elbow, causing him to bring a hand to it and shoot his friend a glare.

“What he meant to say was, do you want a hand with that?” The slightly taller friend with the buzzed brown hair asked after his friend's failure to do so.

I could do nothing but laugh slightly at both of their clear excitement and reply with a smile, “I’d love one.”

Picking up books was a simple task that I most definitely could’ve done myself in probably half the time, but nothing compared to watching them both drop to the floor and bat at each other's hands in a frantic competition to ‘help the most.’ My smile grew wider and I brought a hand up to rest on my forehead. This was already a refreshing change since none of the boys back home would have ever done the same.

Soon, they both stood back up in front of me, proud looks on both of their faces as they put the books in my open locker for me.

“Thank you,” I chuckled in response.

“No problem,” the more hyper one added before quickly speaking again at a constant, lightning pace. “I’m Stiles, by the way,” he gestured to himself, “and this is my buddy, Scott,” his hand moved over to pat the other boy on the shoulder.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles and Scott,” I nodded back at them, still trying to bite back an amused grin, “I’m Sera.”

“You’re new here right?” Scott spoke again with an innocent look of pure curiosity.

I put my hands together behind my back and rocked on my heels slightly, “Mhm, started this morning,” a somewhat nervous chuckle left my lips, which the one called Stiles seemed to pick up on because he quickly interjected.

“I mean, we’d be happy to show you ‘round if you wanna hang with us,” he offered, a hopeful shrug on his shoulders and a pout on his lips.

“Wouldn’t we, Scott,” he then batted the back of his hand against his friend’s arm, glaring at him to respond.

Scott quickly blinked and nodded rapidly, “Oh, yeah, of course.”

I bit my lip in contemplation, they did seem awfully nice. “I’d love to, but I’ve gotta go to the office quickly, but maybe I’ll catch up with you guys later,” my counter seemed to be accepted without a second thought as I studied their expressions.

When I stepped backward I noticed how they didn’t leave just yet, so I said, “Bye boys, I’ll see you around,” with a small wiggle of my fingers as a wave.

“See you around, Sera,” Stiles repeated as he and Scott both mimicked my step back, his hand raising up to do a little salute before we turned our backs to each other.

I could not help the quiet giggle that escaped my mouth after I was out of their eyeline, but I also could not help but hear what they were saying to each other down the hall.

“Why the fuck did you salute?” Scott whispered, hitting Stiles back in retaliation for earlier.

“I- I don’t know, okay?” Stiles replied slightly panicked.

My smile grew. What idiots.

As for the conversation with the receptionist, it went smoothly with a little help from my immaculate ‘people skills’.

“I’m sorry but we insist on transcripts. And your immunisation records seem to be missing,” the lady said, peering over her glasses as she looked through my files.

My sigh was followed by me leaning forward, looking into her eyes as I watched her pupils dilate - she just had to make this more difficult.

“Please look again, I’m sure you’ll find everything you’re looking for.” A proud smirk laced my lips as she did exactly that, nodding and sending me on my way. Too easy.

During lunch, I did end up joining the boys at their table, taking a seat next to Stiles and definitely not missing the wide-eyed look he gave to Scott, along with his stuttered breath as I leaned over him to reach my pen that had rolled across the table.

The portrayal of vampires in Twilight had always annoyed me due to its incredible inaccuracy, but it was beyond amusing how easy it was for me to read their minds, even without special powers.

~

That day had ended with new numbers in everyone’s phones and Sera scoring a new ride to school and back every day in her new friend’s beaten-up old Jeep (which she thought had enough charm to distract from the deafening sound it made when running).

And from that moment forward, the three were inseparable.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

hope you enjoyed !

this was basically to just tell you what to expect from the rest of the series. might not post it all on here unless you want me to so check out my ao3 and wattpad ( @crazyinluvfix ) like and comment x

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[randomgods]

--downpour spoilers for anyone reading! i know you have a tag but just to be safe :3!! but you mentioned in your favs post that the only thing you'd change about saint's campaign was the ascension dialogue between moon and pebbles at the end and i think i do agree with you but i can't quite put my finger on what bothered me about it. i'd be curious to hear what fell flat for you and how you would change it if you had ideas? ps. ily and so good to rain rot concurrently with you

I have much to say about this!! Big spoilers for the ending of The Saint Campaign!!

Ok this may come off as a bit harsh but it’s only because I’m so passionate about these two and their story.

I think the reason why the dialogue in rubicon between Pebbles and Moon fell so flat is that it is so impersonal! I recognize that this is the moment that Pebbles and Moon both realize the solution to their entire purpose has been found, and thus it makes sense that they would be focused on it. But JEEZ! Are they not shocked to see each other in the same physical space for the first time? Are they not relieved that they’ve both been freed from the immense amount of physical and mental pain they’ve been in for millennia, eons even? Due to both of their states they haven’t even been able to contact each other in who knows how long. Where’s the EMOTION!

So much time and so much strife has passed through their lives that at this point in the story they’ve moved on from simply being computing machines. The iterators have full, human emotions. The tragedy of Rain World comes from how individual and human every iterator is. They are sentient beings trapped and tormented by their physical limits and their great task burdened to them by a society who abandoned them long ago. In this hardship they grew to know and love each other like real family. How could you not display that in the final moments of their existence? I find it so reductive of their characters to just make them soullessly monologue about the solution of ascension. It would mean so much more for their characters if they thought of each other first rather than focusing on the task their apathetic creators forced upon them. All their character development and agency is just gone in this scene.

There is also no distinction between Moon and Pebbles. We get none of their character. They’re just waxing poetic about the solution of ascension and the state of The Saint’s fate. It reads as if one monologue was written with no voice in mind and it was just broken up between the two.

I would have to think a while on how I would rewrite this part, maybe one day I will! Of course I would have them address that the solution to ascension has been found, but only after they actually emote over what’s happening to them. I would have them reconnect, celebrate, and grieve over all they’ve been through together.

Lol thats a lot, I am just so passionate about this story. The rest of Saint’s campaign really hit hard for me though. Especially finding Pebbles in the state he’s in.

[liminalpebble]

Stray: Part 9

Masterlist link

Stray: Part 9

“Brother! I knew you would show yourself once again and we would find you. You can't run forever, you conniving little snake!”, Thor bellowed across the tiny space as great gusts of wind billowed around him, sweeping into the apartment and leaving it in disarray.

Loki shot up from the couch, and held onto you protectively, his tall body guarding you. “Now hold on just a minute! You were the one who instigated this whole game, brother. In fairness, shouldn't we both face consequences? Or are you too golden and blessed in our parents' eyes to do any wrong?”

The wind subsided and Thor seemed to deflate slightly, then spoke more plainly, “Shut up, Loki!”

You giggled, you couldn't help it. The Norse god of thunder was standing in your living room, dominating the space one moment, then looking like a scolded overgrown toddler the next.

Loki glanced to you and smiled. Then beamed his grin to Thor “Oh dear brother...” he said in faux-shock, “you didn't tell them your role in all this, did you? How ignoble for a future king!”

Thor stepped closer and scoffed. “You dare to judge me? As if you have any morals of your own, you slimy little....” .

You interrupted, sliding between them and putting a hand on both of their breastplates, trying in vain to push them apart (a woefully useless attempt). However, the two princes were raised properly to respect a lady and, therefore, did take the cue to step back.

“If I might interject gentlemen...” you said calmly.

Thor flinched as if slapped, realizing his impoliteness, and took your hand to kiss it. “Oh dear lady! I apologized profusely for my entrance, and for putting your residence in disorder. I must have frightened you terribly.”

“Not really,” you said lightly, and Thor flinched, almost insulted by that. “But listen, I uh, I understand some of this. Loki's told me some things and...”

“Has this weasel been keeping you hostage, fair maiden, or deceiving you? I shall...”

You put your hands up. “No! No no no! Please...just listen. I'm sure there's some kind of solution here if you would only talk to each other and....”

Before you could finish your sentence, a brilliant multicolored beam rained down on all three of you from overhead in a kaleidoscopic blaze. Loki held you closer again and said, “Hang on, little mortal. Heimdall is calling us home.”

“What?!” you shouted over the blast of the portal fluttering around you. Before you knew it you tumbled through space and were hurled into a golden dome occupied by a single gilded guard with a sword. Unlike the two Asgardians, you immediately lost your balance and Loki had to catch you.

“I feel dizzy. I think I'm gonna puke,” you warned.

“It's alright, darling, give it a moment. It'll pass. It happens to everyone the first time.”

Thor rounded to his brother, pointing his hammer to his chest, and Loki's eyes went wide. “Why did you bring us back?”

“It wasn't me, you stupid oaf!” Loki hollered back, arms up in surrender.

Heimdall's deep commanding voice echoed around the dome. “It was the order of King Odin, your majesties.”

-----

Your heartbeat ramped up higher and higher as you made your way through the palace. By the time you'd finally made it to the vast throne room, flanked on all sides by guards, you felt as if your heart might beat right out of your chest.

“Lokiiii?” you hissed, in a concerned whisper.

“Yes, darling?” he replied, his long arm still cradling you.

“Should I be afraid?”

“Nooo. No. It'll all be just fine. I know this must be terribly alarming and baffling for you, but I assure you....”

“WHERE ARE THEY?” a voice thundered through the throne room. “Where the Hel are my arrogant, troublesome, unruly, infantile sons!”

A red-faced stately man, with a full white beard and gleaming armor rushed to stand before his throne and slammed the base of his golden staff upon the floor. It reverberated through the entire room and your every bone. You felt a primal kind of fear, and could barely breathe. Instinctively, you tried to hide your much shorter body behind the two towering brothers, but to no avail.

Odin's scathing blue eye, found you quickly and bored through you. The Allfather shouted, “Why is that HUMAN in my throne room, or in Asgard, for that matter? What are you ungrateful shits playing at now? Which one of you has done this?”

Just when you felt about to dart away or pass out in abject terror, a melodic feminine voice reached your ears, slicing like a subtle knife through the high tension. “I have, husband,” the regal woman said, pushing effortlessly past her husband, and gliding down the steps to where the three of you stood like confused students who had landed in the principal's office.

She waved a hand wordlessly, commanding her sons to step away from you. You felt a clutch of panic in your throat as Loki relinquished his grasp, leaving you exposed and small in a world of gods. The queen smiled sweetly to you, said your name slowly, deliberately, then said, “Welcome to Asgard, child. I am Frigga, the Allmother.”

Unsure of what to do or say, you curtsied to the best of your ability in jeans and said, “Your Majesty, I'm honored.”

She gave you a knowing smirk and a wink (so much like Loki's that it made you feel immediately more at ease and familiar). “I apologize profusely for the behavior of the men of this royal house.” She gave a warning glare to both her sons and her husband. “Shame on all of you!” To your surprise, all three of them readily deferred to Frigga's judgment of them, heads hung in embarrassment.

She held your hand with her bejeweled fingers. “I wanted to meet you, my dear, and it will be my pleasure to speak with you soon. For now, please allow my ladies in waiting to attend to you. For now I must attend to some family matters.”

“Yes...yes ma'am,” you said, with another little curtsy.

Loki rushed to your side and kissed your hand, saying quickly, “It'll all be just fine, darling. I promise. Just relax.”

Unsure what else to do, and completely disoriented by this entire chain of events, all you could do was nod as the ladies whisked you away.

----

As soon as the human girl was out of earshot, Odin continued, “You idiot children and your stupid...”

“Oh shut up, Odin, you old windbag,” Frigga said with annoyance, and he immediately obeyed. She turned to the princes, arms crossed. “My sons, I know you've both been up to some mischief among the Midgardians, is that correct?”

Thor stuttered out, “Loki was...”

“I said 'you both', Thor. I'm not a fool.”

Thor hung his head like a scolded Labrador.

“Yes, Mother,” Loki said, “I'm afraid we have. It was all meant in good fun. Just a silly bet between us and it seems to have gotten rather out of hand. I apologize and take responsibility.”

All three of them stared at Loki, wide-eyed with overwhelming shock. They expected many things from Loki, but never a direct and sincere apology.”

Thor said, “Norns, you mean it, don't you? What happened to you on Earth?”

Loki rolled his eyes at his brother, but blushed nonetheless.

Frigga nodded knowingly, “And have either of you harmed or killed any mortals in the course of this...prank?”

“No, mother,” they answered in unison, as if they were 8 years old again.

“Alright. And Loki, have you made amends for any chaos you might have caused on Midgard? Have you done at least some good works as penance?”

“I...I think so, Mother. I hope I've done enough. But you might ask the human her opinion on that matter.”

Frigga smiled and nodded with a twinkle in her eye. Like her son, she was impossible to fool; a powerful sorceress, raised by witches. “And so I shall.”

She stepped closer to Odin, whose face had now calmed down to something approaching flesh tone rather than an apple. Offering her hand gently to him, she said, “Husband, I think that is enough of this matter, isn't it. Might we simply call the whole affair settled? Are there not more important matters to attend to than this squabble?”

Odin sighed. “Indeed, my sagacious wife, your wisdom always seems to win the day. And in any case, I can deny you nothing. So be it.” He kissed her hand then began to leave before turning back to his boys with softened eyes. “My sons, I am glad to see you again. I...I was concerned for you both. Please, desist with this foolishness, for the sake of an old man who no longer finds it entertaining.”

They both smirked and said, “Yes, Father.”

----

“Well,” Thor said, looking to Frigga and Loki, “that could have gone worse,” and shrugged.

Loki sighed out, “Thor you are an insufferable imbecile,” but pronounced it with a fond smile.

He winked and smiled in return. “You're just jealous. Farewell, brother,” he declared sauntering away.

Once it was only Loki and his mother, he hugged her and said softly, “I've missed you. Thank you for placating him...again.”

She pinched his sharp cheek playfully. “You're lucky I love you so much, my sly little raven. Come with me, we're not finished talking yet. I want you to tell me about this girl.”

@averagetmblrusser @primrosesposts @fruityfucker @arunabrak @mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @chokeanddagger @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @little-wormwood @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @peachyjinx @mischiefmaker615 @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @madi0987 @buttercupcookies-blog @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @aesonmae @angelofasgard16 @salempoe

[plasticflwrs]

✿ ، With the rise of long-form video essays on YouTube, user GOTHIC GWYN changed the K-Pop fandom with her seventy-five-minute analysis, PLASTIC FLOWERS: BREAKING THE INDIE SCENE. Since it was posted in 2022, the video has reached over 5 million views and GOTHIC GWYN still posts semi-regularly. In this section of the video, the creator discusses the three original members of The Big Gloom—IRUM, SEOWON, and CHAESOL—and Plastic Flowers—DAL, JIHUN, and MINGHUI. This layout was inspired by the lovely myah aka @/venusvity !

( PART VI: I ALWAYS WANT YOU WHEN I'M FINALLY FREE ... YING SHUHANG ) ⬭ It is all but confirmed that Irum and Salem had dated prior to 2016. Shuhang had kept pictures of the pair on his public Instagram up until 2020 when the new fans of Plastic Flowers finally dived into finding the former members and everything about them. As of 2023, his account has been private but the pictures never truly get deleted. They surface about once a year when fans are reminded of The Big Gloom's existence and it annoys all of the members, past and present. It has gone far even that Superbloom is threatening legal action on behalf of Irum as well. Their alleged breakup coincides with the signing of Salem under Superbloom Media and when the band "broke up". Of all the members, he is the most private and has no public social media outside of the The Big Gloom's accounts on Instagram, Twitter, and Tiktok. Formerly Salem's second in command, fans from the beginning have noticed that Shuhang has never bounced back from their initial separation and has said a few times that he regrets not signing, especially with their recent success. However, he always wishes the best for the members and even covered Youth by Oliver with Chaesol back in April.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Irum ( 이룸 ).

Birth Name. Ying Shuhang ( 英书航 ).

Born. Feburary 22, 1998 in Maoming, China.

Position. Vocalist, Guitarist.

Years Active. 2014 — 2016; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Xiao Dejun.

( PART VII: I AM DESTROYING MYSELF SO OTHER PEOPLE CAN'T ... CHOI SEOWON ) ⬭ Choi Seowon was tired of being ignored. For the last two years, his ideas and demos had been passed up by the group, and by 2016, he was already planning on leaving the entire group. The situation with Superbloom just gave him the perfect opportunity to change things. While everyone blames the end of the original lineup on Irum, accounts by both Salem and Chaesol make this seem false. They have stated multiple times that Seowon was the first to voice his opinions against Superbloom Media and being signed. He knew that he would still be ignored in favor of the other members as the drummer and needed a way out of this. As they went back on the idea, he remained on the side against signing and eventually, got Irum on his side with an unknown agreement. Since 2018, he has served as the leader of The Big Gloom and is easily the most popular member for his reactions to Plastic Flowers on Twitch. Whenever something happens to the group, he is always just behind them with nasty comments about their looks and the direction of their music, mainly focused on Salem.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Seowon ( 서원 ).

Birth Name. Choi Seowon ( 최서원 ).

Born. April 9, 1998 in Ulsan, South Korea.

Position. Leader, Drummer.

Years Active. 2015 — 2017; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Choi San.

( PART VII: I STILL WAKE UP WITH THINGS TO TELL YOU ... CHOI CHAESOL ) ⬭ Chaesol and Salem were best friends for two years before the creation of Plastic Flowers. While Salem was the leader of their garage band, Chaesol was the glue that held them together. She was always able to calm disagreements between the other three and give solutions to make them all happy. Born as the eldest of three other siblings, this was almost second nature to the young girl. Chaesol was the reason that Salem met the other two and should be credited more for her impact on the group. In 2017, she was on the fence about Superbloom Media. She knew that it would be good exposure for the band but idol companies were not known for their leniency and she wanted to keep her autonomy over music and herself. Chaesol had seen her own classmates be chewed and spit out by companies like them. So, when Irum and Seowon denied the contract, she came along with them. Since November of 2018, she has served as the Main Vocalist, Guitarist, and Pianist of their new band Overstepping. She is also still close with Salem even after everything and was spotted at their first 'concert' in the VIP section alongside the member's parents and close friends.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Chaesol ( 채솔 ).

Birth Name. Choi Chaesol ( 최채솔 ).

Born. November 28, 1998 in Ulsan, South Korea.

Position. Main Vocalist, Guitarist, Pianist.

Years Active. 2015 — 2017; 2018 — present.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Kim Jiwoo.

( PART IX: YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE A TENDERNESS IN YOUR HEART FOR THEM. ... MYUNG JISOO ) ⬭ Before there was Oliver Song, Myung Jisoo was the apple of Shin Yeonghui's eye and had been personally scouted by the CEO at her dance recital. She would be one of the first trainees to join Superbloom after their rebrand and was supposed to debut in their first girl group Celatum in 2015. No one really knows what happened behind the scenes, but, she was removed from the lineup with another future Plastic Flowers member, Oh Deurim. Seeing her potential as an idol, she was added to the Plastic Flowers lineup despite having no background in any instruments, instead being a dancer.

She would be trained by her band mates Oliver and Salem as the new drummer for the band and looks back fondly at her time as a member of Plastic Flowers. Though things were very hard due to their low sales and learning to play the drums, she thanks them for making her interested in the behind-the-scenes of making music and wanting to be a lyricist. Her contract, sadly, would be ended due to Superbloom Media's lack of funds and Shin Yeonghui wanting to see her under a better company for her immense talents.

In 2017, she would be replaced by Kang Junyeong as the drummer of Plastic Flowers and Jisoo would go completely silent until 2019. In the years between her contract ending, she would join KQ Entertainment and act as a choreography and dance instructor, working closely with the members of ATEEZ from pre-debut until now. In 2019, she would return to the music scene as a soloist under her birth name, Jisoo. Her debut with Gotta Go would be very well received and she continues to make music today.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Dal ( 달 ).

Birth Name. Myung Jisoo ( 명지수 ).

Born. April 2, 1997 in Seoul, South Korea.

Position. Vocalist, Drummer.

Years Active. 2016; 2019 — Present.

Label. KQ Entertainment.

Face Claim. Kim Yoohyeon.

( PART X: I WAS WITH THEM AND YET I WAS ALONE. ... KANG SOONYOUNG ) ⬭ Kang Soonyoung never speaks about his time with Plastic Flowers and is often the most forgotten former member of the band. He would be a Superbloom Media trainee for just two weeks before being added into the lineup as one of the few trainees that already knew how to play the piano. Unlike the rest of the members, Soonyoung was never credited as a vocalist because he never had the real vocal training needed, he was scouted for his good looks over his talent. In a deleted Instagram post, Soonyoung would thank Plastic Flowers for being so accommodating to his lack of talents, but would blame Superbloom for not letting them stay together in the long run. He is easily the most vocal of their former artists about their bad business practices and uses of manipulative tactics to get trainees and band mates to hate each other.

In 2019, Soonyoung would make his comeback to the music scene as a trainee on the survival show Produce X 101 as a Starship Entertainment trainee. Alongside all of his label mates, he would make it to the shows finale, but failed to secure a spot in the final lineup and ranking #11 overall. It was later revealed that due to the eleventh member of X1 being chosen by the total number of votes, he would lose out on his spot to Lee Eunsang. He would return to Starship and later debut as a vocalist and visual of their newest boy group Cravity in 2020.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Jihun ( 지훈 ).

Birth Name. Kang Soonyoung ( 강순영 ).

Born. March 18, 2000 in Seoul, South Korea.

Position. Pianist, Visual.

Years Active. 2016; 2019 — Present.

Label. Starship Entertainment.

Face Claim. Kim Sunwoo.

( PART XI: WAS I RAISED WITHOUT LOVE OR WAS I BORN UNLOVABLE? ... LIN MINGHUI ) ⬭　Compared to the rest of the members, Lin Minghui never discusses anything from his childhood. The only stories that we truly have about him is from their trainee era and since their debut. From what we know, he was born in Hualien City to a single, teenage mother and was raised primarily by his maternal grandparents while his mother completed her schooling and attempted to live a normal life. By all means, Lin Shufen always tried her best with raising Minghui but, according to court documents found by sasaengs, she was forced to give full custody rights to her parents and could not be alone with her son due to her not paying rent on time, toxic relationships, and neglecting Minghui at her parent's house for days. The court case was started by his grandparents and they raised Minghui as their son since 2010.

Minghui cites both FT Island and SHINee as his inspirations and reasons for getting into K-pop. He learned piano at a young age at his grandparents recommendation. In 2015, Superbloom Media made a trip to scout idols from Taiwan and as a fan of their original artist, Kim Yuchan, he decided to take a chance. He thought that it would be fate if they accepted him and it was a sign to become an idol due to his lack in dance and most vocal abilities. With a bright personality and dedication to the idol industry, he was originally scouted to be an entertainer or actor. He moved to Seoul with his grandparents, who had been retired at that point, and lived with them rather the training dorm.

He continued training to be an actor but when Superbloom began scrambling for new members of Plastic Flowers, he was considered due to his knowledge of the piano which very few trainees had. They expedited his vocal training and kept him primarily in the background of Plastic Flowers to not cause anymore drama about who was chosen as Junyeong fought anti's almost everyday. He was supposed to compete on Superband with Gwyn in 2019, however, he was not chosen in the final round and was sent home to Superbloom to await Gwyn's return. Minghui is easily one of the most known members of the band due to his work on variety shows and helped them gain more fans as well.

In 2021, his departure from Plastic Flowers would be announced by Superbloom Media and due to musical conflicts with both the company and members of the band. However, in a statement in 2023, Minghui would say he left because of the members and their constant fighting.

✿ ، BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION.

Stage Name. Minghui ( 밍후이 ).

Birth Name. Lin Minghui ( 林明辉 ).

Born. March 3, 2000 in Hualien City, Taiwan.

Position. Pianist, Vocalist.

Years Active. 2017 — 2021.

Label. Unsigned.

Face Claim. Liu Yangyang.

[manofthepipis]

One thing that I’ve noticed is the amazing storytelling and character development Survey and Clicks are going through! They both have conflicting emotions, but seem to handle them very differently. It kind of reminds me of ‘Nice v.s Kind’ mentality. From my perspective, Survey is nice, but Clicks is kind.

For nice people, most of their characteristics are this:

- never wants to rock the boat

- Most concerned about not upsetting someone

- Afraid to speak up when they witness unkind behavior

- Censoring yourself for others feelings

- Enabling

Most of these in my opinion match Survey and their own mental battles pretty spot on! I should probably also mention early on that I don’t think Survey is evil, or acting out on any ill-will towards Spam, quite the opposite actually! Survey is probably walking on eggshells with every interaction they have with him. They haven’t had time to process through their own grief and PTSD from the last Neo rampage, so, that involuntary spills out when they don’t mean to. An example of this is when Swatch was talking to them about Neo, and their first thoughts were “Oh, Neo, great” clearly stating their apprehension towards the topic (and for a very good reason! Regardless of the mental state of the perpetrator, it’s hard to forgive and forget after a scenario like that). However, they also unfortunately, have that double whammy of the grief they felt by leaving Spamton alone, and was the only other Addison that actually heard the voice on the phone, therefore, they have an even more horrifying perspective of what Spamton went through. They somehow think that turning Spamton back into the white Addison will be the solution to all of their problems. Which, while one might think it cruel, given Surveys perspective, it makes a lot of sense. They can’t help but be scared of Spamton, they don’t want to be afraid, but they are so scared of that overwhelming feeling of NEO, and, it’s not like Survey has heard anything positive about Spamton’s new appearance. With the “burning hot plate sensation” to “I can’t say anything without being swamped by Ads” it makes sense that Survey would want to alleviate that burden. I really hope that one of the other Ads are able to catch on to Survey’s mental state, and help. Right now, my contester is Banner. Those two seem to be a little bit closer than the others, especially when it came to Spamton. Banner was also the one who noticed Survey’s apprehension and terror when Neo was in their house. This is getting to long LMAO so the summarize, ADDISONS!!! SPAMTON!! PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE ONE LIGHTING THEMSELVES ON FIRE TO KEEP YOU ALL WARM!!!!

To move on, Clicks on the other hand, is kind. For kind people, their personalities are like this:

- Willing to make waves

- Clear, direct communication, even when uncomfortable

- Being true to their own values or feelings

- Helping

- Acting from genuine feelings

Now Clicks isn’t a saint, he’s an asshole and a drama queen, even he himself admits this. However, he definitely gets the kindness award! As he passes this test with flying colors in my opinion! He doesn’t pull back his punches with Spamton, (like him just telling Spamton to shut the fuck up LMAO) and has the most clear communication with Spam! Spamton himself, recognizes that Clicks isn’t like Banner and Survey who are still trying to test the waters with him, rather, he treats Spamton like an equal. (Even if his sense of equal is just being an asshole). Clicks has also show to value his own feelings, especially with the latest chapter! The reason it took him this long was because before, his feelings were just a giant ball of ???. Once Clicks was able to understand and get through his emotions he was able to have a better understanding of Spamton and his character. (Clicks knows that Spamton hated being that white Addison, Survey is trying to make Spamton that white Addison). Throughout the story, Clicks has shown to have a remarkable sense of body language understanding as well as trying to respect Spamtons boundaries. An example of this is when Spamton thought he was being interrogated by the other ads, and when Clicks senses his discomfort, he tries to drop the topic. Even though he’s an asshole, he definitely wants to be there for all the addisons are a strong shoulder, as well as a protector. Clicks is notorious for making waves, (all with good reason!) If someone like Survey had to have the heart the heart with Spam like Clicks had, I feel like Survey would say something like, “Everyone is capable of change Spamton! And we all want to change for the better and help!” But Clicks is just like, “you are the most egotistical bastard I have ever met. Shut the absolute fuck up.” LMAO I love this guy. Clicks isn’t a nice guy, but he is a kind guy. And that goes a lot farther in my own opinion!

To conclude, Clicks is able to empathize, while Survey sympathizes. Both are so complex it’s so good rararjdndjskdkdnd !!!!!!!

i've gotta say reading this ask/analysis (asknalysis?) has got me smiling from ear to ear because of describing something so accurately i couldn't put it into words better than this

one, i'm extremely thankful for this, and tysm for your thoughts! They're always a pleasure to read especially as i see that so much of these addisons have actually got across :'D

i really really really like writing morally grey characters, and using the kind versus nice personalities is such a great way to describe their moral differences! Surv is definitely trickier, because as you said, they're not evil, they just got a lot going on. they are apprehensive, and definitely walking on eggshells because they have no idea to actually approach this situation other than wanting it over with. Their persistence to find out what happened to spamton in pt 1 was fulfilled (for better or for worse), and being "nice" is what he needed then, to be brought down from his rage and resentment towards them as a group, while kindness is what he needs now. So Survey's inadvertently putting themselves in a worse position, creating divide, just because their approach that worked before isn't working now. And it's not their fault while at the same time, yeah, being their fault. i rlly like this line "setting themselves on fire to keep the rest of you warm" it like 1. is perfect for this and 2. goes hardcore

Without spoiling too much I do believe you have it right :D though Banner isn't in a position as extreme as Survey here, the whole thing is certainly messing with him. He doesn't want to make the wrong decisions anymore about what to do with Spamton's situation, finding it odd and uncanny, rather than devastating like Survey. He wants to make things right, but doesn't have the tools right now to do so. He wants to help, probably more than anyone else, but unyielding optimism isn't going to work and he knows that :')

you're also right about what would have happened if Surv were in Clicks' position then. There wouldn't be much of a resolution other than Survey going back to what they've seen had worked before- talking Spamton (and the rising emotions) down. When said emotions and concerns, instead, needed to be acknowledged and translated to make any progress. With Clicks, processing how he's felt for so long and what Spam's feeling now, it helped them both in one conversation and connection. Spamton's a lot like the addisons than he cares to admit, as he's been one of them at some point, so being an equal is what he's wanted, but then when he never got it, it turned to wanting to be 'bigger' than them, and thus the spiral/decline. Clicks being kind, noticing visual cues of discomfort rather than being impatient with getting information out of Spamton asap when he finally starts talking, is going to make Spamton feel more like an equal and less a belittled outcast, or worse, a freakshow. And though addisons always have their own selfish motivations directing their actions, the outcome of Clicks' approach is pretty selfless in the end.

I'm also so so so glad to have readers that see the differences in empathy versus sympathy and nice versus kind! like, just the subtle differences between each approach, in where each side is commonly seen as synonymous, when in context, they can vary from each other in large ways!! It's enlightening even as a writer to see :D! tysm for sharing!

[stephobrien]

The ICJ ruled that it's plausible that Israel's assault on Gaza could amount to a genocide.

Being a signatory the Genocide Convention means America has an obligation to prevent genocide.

And yet, America's ambassador just vetoed yet another attempt to pass a resolution for a ceasefire in Gaza.

According to the above article, "She told reporters the Arab draft did not link the release of the hostages to a cease-fire, which would give Hamas a halt to fighting without requiring it to take any action. That would mean “that the fighting would have continued because without the hostage releases we know that the fighting is going to continue,” she said."

This excuse seems to ignore the fact that that Hamas has offered a deal that would involve both the release of the hostages AND an end to the fighting.

It's the Israeli prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, who is the most reluctant to stop the fighting. And he's been very clear about the fact that, despite Israel having given a nod to international law by participating in the ICJ hearing, he has no intention of actually abiding by the ruling.

“No one will stop us, not The Hague, not the axis of evil and not anyone else," Netanyahu said in televised remarks.

In a statement to media, he also said, "We’re continuing the war to the end. It will continue until Hamas is destroyed — until victory…until all the goals we set are met: destroying Hamas, releasing our hostages and removing the threat from Gaza."

(If you think this sounds reasonable, imagine if Hamas had killed 29,000 Israelis, restricted most of Israel's access to food, water, and medicine to the point where Israelis were starving, and damaged or destroyed over half of all the buildings in Israel, and then said they would continue until the Likud and IDF were completely destroyed, so they could never attack Palestinians again.)

Netanyahu has long opposed a two-state solution, even going so far as to prop up Hamas. He endangered innocent Israelis' lives so he could use Hamas as an excuse to avoid real negotiations, which could lead to Palestinian statehood and a chance for REAL peace that's based on justice and equality rather than oppression and control.

His policies and rhetoric have drawn criticism from his fellow Israelis, including thousands of protestors, and former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert, the latter of whom said:

“It isn’t fashionable to trust Palestinians, any Palestinians. This is the time when you’re meant to hate them. But this is bullshit. When I argue with people, sometimes I say, ‘What is the solution? What do you think can be done? Do you think that we can continue to control 4.5 million people without rights, with unlimited occupation, forever? Do you think that can work?’ Then they, of course, don’t have an answer.”

Netanyahu won't end the war, or abide by international law, willingly. We need to keep pressuring our governments to take TANGIBLE ACTION to make the Israeli government stop, whether that's sanctions, cessation of aid and military cooperation, or whatever your country is in a position to do.

Don't stop contacting your representatives, and urging them to put pressure on the Israeli government.

And for those who need to be reminded: please direct your anger toward the government officials who are in a position to do something about this, and toward the companies that are complicit in Israel's violence.

Do NOT direct it toward random Jewish people, businesses, or places of worship that have absolutely no influence on or complicity in the violence you're protesting.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, glimpse of angst, fluff, humor, strangers to friends/roommates to lovers, a bit of back and forth

word count: 4.2k

cherry here!...and it all comes crashing down.

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 5

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

For years, you spent time behind a screen, mindlessly running after Eleanor with a notepad, messy hair sticking out like a madwoman. It must’ve been quite the sight for your fellow colleagues. A constant cycle of proving yourself to others—to your own fucking parents—that what you were doing was going to be all worth it at the end. It was only right that you were utterly exhausted.

Now suddenly, there’s this boy. He has the prettiest watercolor eyes you’ve even had the pleasure of admiring, the cutest dimples, a charming nose, most feathery lashes, pinkest lips, and above all; a heart of gold. You’ve been thrown the toughest battles—the kind you would’ve fought alone if it weren’t for Amelia and Roman—but the universe has rewarded you.

In the span of a month, Charles has completely won you over. From his boyish grin to his dominating smirk. There was just something about him that fell into place with you; like a puzzle piece. The Monegasque never failed to make you feel giddy all over, butterflies soaring freely inside your stomach. 

Only now, there were a different type of eyes lurking back at you. Livid, you almost flinched at the thought of them turning red. Resentful, the kind you only thought you knew. Broken, like the glass plate laying at your feet. 

But the worst had to be the betrayal, written all over them. 

And you knew at that moment. This was the last and only summer.

-

“Wouldn’t it be scary if I just zip down because a shark bit my leg?” you ponder, gently threading through the tides. The green eyed boy tilts his head in amusement. If he hadn’t taken the time to understand your wild imagination, or dark humor, then he would’ve rolled his eyes and yawned. Instead, he slowly nudges your calf, lighthearted, droplets sliding down his face. 

“Not so much as scary, but rather impossible. Sharks don’t swim near the Amalfi Coast.” You nod, though there’s a skeptical aura that lingers as you fix your snorkel. The brunette sneaks a loving glance, taking in your rosy state, scrunched nose when you swallow a gallon of sea salt water. He laughs. “You should keep an eye out for jellyfish, eh. Now those are a problem.”

“Jellyfishes and I are friends. They would never intentionally hurt me. C’mon, let's go back.” 

The day had started early. Four fucking a.m. The Monegasque had hurled you out of bed, declaring that time was running out and he needed to spend all of it with you. The day prior, he had promised he would always text, call, and visit. It made your heart flutter and pounce all at the same time. 

Hence, snorkeling. It was a fun and quick activity, so naturally you agreed with a killer pout as you squinted at the bright sun, despite it being the crack of dawn. Signaling to a glimmery oyster, you excitedly nod when he makes his way over. Once you reach the surface again, you clap with delight. “Can you open it for me?”

He doesn’t answer, but rather focuses his attention on snapping it wide. You can feel your eyes shimmer at the sight, an electrifying pearly white. Almost greedily, you pinch it in between your fingers, bringing it up to parade. “That is absolutely stunning. Oh my God, do you think I could turn it into a ring?”

His lips curl. “I’d say so.”

After that, you both settle into a comfortable silence. The sun was blazing hot at this point, and still there was a breeze. Just when your face would start to dry up, you would dip back in and beam at the Monegasque. He grins, crinkles, hugging the corner of his eyes. He allows himself to swoon when you wink up at the rays of sunshine. “So, I was thinking…”

“Mhm,” you murmur, orbs trained on your newly prize possession. 

Nerves fill the brunette’s veins, sharp hands gently massaging his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. You furrow your brows, cocking your head to the side. Is everything alright? Charles sheepishly smiles. “Well, I, uh, was wondering…” He trails off when your lips wobble, hinting that you knew what this was all leading up to. “Would you like to go out on a date? With me,” he adds shyly. 

“You were kind enough to seek me a gem,” you hum. “I would love to, Charles.”

“Wonderful,” he sighs in relief. “I-I-I know we sort of skipped a couple steps a few days ago,” he stutters anxiously. Your cheeks burn up at the reminder of him in between your legs. “So— but—I’m definitely glad that we’re able to—ouch!” he yelps in pain, teeth gritting. You fill up with panic, frantically eyeing the clear water. 

“What? What?” you urge. “It’s a shark, isn’t it? I knew they would find a way!” The 26 year old barely had a chance to fill you in on what was really going on, but couldn’t really do much when you zoom out, popping the pearl into your mouth safely, floppy arms threading fast to the point that they became sore. 

“There’s no—oh my word.” He grimaces, a painful expression mapped out as he, too, follows you out as quickly as he can. As he limps over to you, you scream, shiny jewel falling straight onto the ground. 

“Charles, Charles, Charles.” Your stomach drops, fingers jittery, “There’s a jellyfish wrapped around your ankle…”

“You’re all caught up,” he grunts. “Get it off!”

You squeal when he lifts his leg up at you. “I can’t! Can’t you kick it off or something?”

He clenches his jaw, heavy pants filling the air. “And risk getting stung again? No, thank you. I drive for a living! I need this thing off.” He flings his leg and the transparent sea-creature disconnects, landing straight into the water. He stares back astonished and you simply laugh loudly and maniacally. You did it! “Yes, now pee on it.”

“Oh—hell no. What is this? A kink of yours?” Your nose scrunches up with clear disgust, as if you just caught a whiff of a baby’s diaper. Charles scowls. It’s supposed to help—do you think I want to do this? You gag, adamantly shaking your head. “No, no, I’ve read about this! We can add vinegar!” Briskly grabbing your essentials, you grip his wrist, already dragging him to his car. 

He tears up—though, denies it—almost kicks you, and groans like a baby, but survives his injury. “Better?” Barely. Washing your hands, you share a stern glare. “At home remedies. Godsend.” He sulks deeper into his seat, wet hair trapping his face. Once you dry your hands, you plop down next to him, pecking his lips. “Grump.”

A beady eye pops open before snapping back shut. “I’d like to see you get stung.” You gasp theatrically, playfully swatting his shoulder. He chuckles, hauling you atop of him. You almost giggle like a teen, but manage to tune it out. “How ‘bout our date?”

“How about you rest? Cha, we can go out tomorrow.”

His bright eyes dim. “But we only have a few days left…”

Your mood comes crashing down as well, downcast eyes flickering like fireflies. “Then I should get ready, no?” His lips turn upward. “Meet me by the door in fifteen.”

It’s a rush, digging through your suitcase, trying to find the perfect dress, the perfect flats. You lose a good chunk of hair as you comb through it, due to the salty water, but manage. You briskly fly through your makeup routine, slather your body with perfume and lotion, and dash back downstairs, finding him already standing there. 

Charles was at edge up until that moment. His tenseness slips away as soon as he sees you, looking as beautiful as ever. There’s a harsh tan going on, but even that makes you all the more breathtaking. He’s not too bad himself and you know it when you blush. From his linen navy blue shirt to his denim jeans, you swoon. 

“You smell like honey,” he stammers. “You look lovely.”

“Grazie.” A beat. “You got a few new ones.”

He’s generally a cool guy, but you always strike him with some type of new feeling. He burns up, softly grazing his nose where a few freckles pop up. “That always happens when I’m out in the sun for too long. Ready?” You purse your lips, skipping towards him. 

When you were eight, you had your first date. You suppose that really depends on how you see it. You mother had tried to become friends with a few ladies from the local book club and you always found yourself tagging along. Obligated, more so. His name was Joey and he had two missing teeth, so every time he spoke, a lisp would come through. It made you giggle cutely as you would lick your melted ice cream off your forearm. Eventually, your mother felt the right to storm out, pulling you away, and you never saw or heard of him again.

At eighteen, you had your last. You should've known from his name alone. James. He was tall, blond, a complete know-it-all, but he had noticed you. The crush slowly died the moment his eyes trailed to the next pretty girl, and the next, and the next.

Now, you’re mid-twenties and this feels like the right choice. He isn’t missing a row of teeth, he buys you ice cream and never once rushes you, he’s tall and proud, and has a set of chocolate curls. Most importantly, he has eyes for you and only you. It was as sweet as it could get. 

“Can I ask you something?” Charles raises a brow, humming along. Twirling your pasta against the metal fork, you prop your chin on your palm. “What were you doing that day at the beach? Where we first met.”

Crimson red slashes his already burnt face as he chokes on his wine. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your perspective over me.” He drums his long fingers. “I was taking a nap.”

“Oh, well, I know that, but you were basically a goner!” You teasingly whistled. “I’m a curious little monkey, so please, enlighten me.”

The Monegasque tsks, relaxing his wide shoulders. He circles the restaurant instantly before leaning in across the table. “That day I was feeling particularly stressed. I was dealing with a lot of things and I don’t remember much after that. Except when a friend gave me a so-called magic potion.” He takes a sip to fix his dry throat. “Oh it did wonders, I tell you.” Absolute wonders, he mouths. 

Your eyes widen. “Like…drugs?” you hiss, bewildered at the possibility. He cringes and nods, floppy hair bouncing. Your mouth forms a silent O, then nibble on your bottom lip, letting go. “I didn’t take you for a—”

“Me either.” You hear the sound of plates crashing down as you flinch and you both turn your attention to the apologetic waiter. The older couple look pissed, bitterly curse out the poor man, and blink as if they weren’t the vulgar ones. Charles rolls his eyes, then sighs. “I don’t think I could ever understand people like that.” 

“Ruthless?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth. It’s ugly. Makes them look so out of touch with reality, which I suppose is true.” Green eyes flicker to the waiter once again before getting up to help. Tonight is really only the first time he’s gone out without his supposed disguise, so it’s obviously made your stomach flip at the thought of someone recognizing him. 

Which they do.

“Charles Leclerc?” The accent is thick—and clearly Italian—as they step closer, phone already whipping out. The brunette turns, a lopsided smile drawn. “Holy shit! It’s really you! Can I please have a picture?” After a few minutes of chatter, the Monegasque excuses himself from the group, looking a bit suffocated. 

“Being tackled in public? That’s what stresses you out, right?” His breath gets caught in his throat, but doesn’t make a move to shut the claim down. He answers by turning his attention to his lap. You sigh. “What did you take and who gave it to you?”

“You probably don’t even know him—Daniel. He’s quite the man, knows lots of people, and thought it would help. It did. Coke. I-it was my first and only try, I promise.” 

You release a further breath. “You’re old enough to know your wrongs from rights. I trust you.” He eases up. “Doesn't mean you should rely on that.”

Charles looks up with a frown. “I feel like a fucking scumbag. I mean, does it make me a bad person to dread meeting fans sometimes? They’re always supporting me—it’s the least I could do.” 

“You’re only human, Cha. You have your good and bad days. They would understand.” He shrugs, smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do you remember what you told me that day you cooked that godforsaken meal?” 

He nips the air. “You said it was delicious!”

You snicker, glad to see his humor coming back. “I lied. No, but you told me I had to stop pleasing everyone around me. Focus on myself. You said that. And I advise you to do the same.”

He’s heard this countless times. With Charlotte, which he only tuned out angrily, blaming her for not understanding his duties. Carlos, narrating how he of all people should understand. Pierre, smacking his head before walking away, already annoyed that too many people had tried to help, how he got called out on repeat. But with you, he simply nodded, somewhat agreeing. Not completely, but enough. That itself was a lot when it came to him and his stubbornness. Something inside of him told him he would do whatever you asked him to. It was a scary—liberating—feeling. 

The last time he felt this was with…

A wave of realization slithers across his features. Charlotte. That last person he felt this familiar feeling was for Charlotte. And even then, their relationship felt foolish compared to anything he’s ever felt for you. There were sparks flying when you fluttered your doe eyes back at him, when you called him out on anything he does with a witty sense of humor…

He’s been fucked ever since the tiny ballerina kissed the hot-headed Stormtrooper.

“My words of wisdom are pretty clever,” he voices, smirking. “You’re right. I should focus more on myself.” Pause. “Thank you. For everything. For taking the time to get to know me. Not many bother these days.”

You want to cry at the gratitude written all over his handsome face, the sound of his disbelief, like a kid who genuinely thought they’d be picked last for a game of tag. 

“You're very important  to me, Charles.” You gently take his large hand into your smaller one. He stiffens. “You won’t ever forget that, right?”

“Not even if I try, no.” Then he presses a warm kiss onto your skin, and you feel him smile against it. “Anything you say or do would take me forever to overlook, to erase.” More pressure expands through your already firm chest, ragged breaths. “Something tells you’re a once in a lifetime type of person. How could I ever let that slip away?”

-

You excuse yourself in a flash, tears threatening to spill after his touch felt words. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more two-faced, he somehow squeezes your heart around his fist, and you deserve every ounce of shame, of guilt. 

After a round of paper towels that you dab as harsh as soft Kleenex, you force a bright smile in the mirror, shooting a quick thumbs up and storming back out to your date. 

The 26 year old was concerned about the hazy interaction, perturbed eyes blinking as you got up as if you had just seen the Devil himself, unbeknownst that you felt like one. He’s left anxiously waiting, tapping his shoes against the shiny tiles, leg bouncing up and down with anticipation. Cursing underneath his breath, he stands up and makes his way to the women's restroom. He receives a few baffled glances when he bolts down the hallway. 

“Jesus Christ,” you yelp, finding Charles right in front of you when you swing the door open. His green eyes narrow like knives, carefully analyzing your pink nose, red rimmed eyes. “You scared me—”

“What did they say to you?”

You frown. “What are you talking about?”

His hands make their way up to cradle your face, thumbs grazing your temples. You raise a neat brow. “Did anyone follow you? See you? Were they rude? My fans aren’t normally like this, I promise they’re sweet, but if they did anything to you, I swear to God—”

Instantly shaking your head, you let out a nervous giggle. “No one said anything, don’t worry. I just really had to pee. Promise.” 

This is what he was most afraid of when he first opened up to you, to go out in public. Charles was terrified at the image of your privacy being invaded, much like his. For hurtful words or actions to be aimed at you. And then you blink up at him with a sour expression because he knows you just cried, he obviously grew protective. Leaning down, he meekly kisses your forehead. “What’s wrong then? You hate me that much?” he jokes. 

You bite back a smile. “Something like that. How about we go somewhere dear to us?”

-

Added to the torment of what you were feeling, you didn’t think things could get any worse—and yet. 

Today. By today. Get it done. 

Aghast, your delicate fingers come up to your berry lips, pinching at them nervously before biting down on your thumb, re-reading Eleanor’s message. Friday. You originally had until Friday. It’s only Wednesday. Sure, only a forty-eight hour difference, but still. You wanted to hold onto the most valuable time possible if you could. You try convincing her to change her mind, but it was a worthless battle. You knew once she had her mind set on it, then that’s exactly what had to happen.

By today.

You’re sobbing, panting, your vision is blurry as you type on your phone, angry as you fiddle against the tiny screen. Who could you really be mad at? Eleanor? No. Charles? No. The universe? Tempting, but no. It was all you. If you hadn’t mentioned having a possible exclusive for the sake of saving your job, then you wouldn’t be tangled in this mess. 

You can’t go down that way, it’s ladies only!

I’m terribly sorry, but I have to check on my wife.

You recognize his urgent voice, deep and raw. His words aren’t true, but it fucks you up just the same. Hurrying to slip your phone back inside your purse, you quickly fix your appearance before opening the wide door, finding Charles mid-knock.

“Jesus Christ. You scared me.”

-

“Back where we started,” the green eyed boy chirps when he spots the tiny pub that sits atop of the hill. “It feels as if we were just here yesterday. This is fantastic.”

“I didn’t think you loved it that much,” you poke fun, bumping your hip against his. His watercolor eyes flicker to yours for a brief moment, then focusing back at the old shed. 

“Things can surely change in the span of a month.”

The implication was as clear as daylight, but it only flew past your head as you enthusiastically ran up, smiling back at him. Nico is still there, serving drinks with a cheshire grin, when he spots you. “I remember you! How have you been, cara mia? Is Italy treating you well enough?”

You buzz, tippy toeing as you sheepishly try to spot the main reason you came back. “Oh, definitely. I think I might stay. Do you, um, happen to have—”

“Got it right here,” he says, gloved hand wrapping around the familiar liquid. You blush, ordering a round—bottle—and making your way back to the Monegasque. As soon as the tray hits your table, he throws a dubious stare, thanking the older man. “Huge fan, Mr. Leclerc.” He extends his Ferrari merch with a timid grin. “Do you mind?”

Charles returns the warm smile. “Not at all.” He signs away sloppily, but professionally. Nico zooms cheerfully, eager to boast out to his co-workers. You giggle. Very nice, very nice. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Does my kind gesture get me a kiss?”

“We’ll see,” you mumble, looking away before he spots your pink cheeks. 

He sighs dramatically. “Do you really think it’s for the best if you drink this crap again? Do you remember the last time you had a sip?”

“I’ll go easy. This shit is good.” Throwing your head back, you gulp down the sweet alcoholic drink, eyes squeezing tightly before you huff. “Exactly. Try some.” The brunette does, but steady, a careful eye always lingering onto you. You don’t get drunk this time—rather tipsy. You tell yourself it's because you don’t want to wake up with a killer headache tomorrow, but you know that’s far from the truth. It’s simple. You just didn’t want to forget the last moments you had with him. 

His adoration would only last so long.

Clicking your phone open, you clumsily had it over to him. Record me. He huffs, but amusement colors his orbs. “Here we go again…” You snicker playfully, marching over to the lady at the piano. You’re back, she pronounces. 

“I am.” You laugh. “Do you happen to play guitar?”

She shakes her head sadly before lighting up. “But Nico does. Nico!” she screams as the man rushes over. “You play song for pretty girl standing right here?” Volentieri, he chirps, looking for his rusty instrument. After a bit of discussion, you twirl back, walking to the center stage. 

“I can still recall, our last summer. I still see it all.” Charles laughs, throwing his head back like a little kid as he reminds himself to keep your phone steady. “Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain. Our last summer, memories that remain.” 

The guitar is a lone act, but fills up the room as if there were a band. Occasionally, the keys of the broken piano fill the room as you smile gently. From the way you dance to the way you smile, Charles lives for every moment, taking in your happiness. 

You should have seen the foreshadowing. The song. The plates that crashed during dinner. The stare. It was all laying right out in front of you, and you stupidly chose to ignore it until it was too late. 

“Our last summer, walking hand in hand…” You trail off the moment his eyes turn dark, furrowing to the screen then back to you, as if trying to come up with a possible explanation. He stands up abruptly, chair squeaking so loud that everyone’s heads turn to look. “No,” you whisper in disbelief when he walks out, leaving you like an open love letter. 

“No, no, no, no, no.” Flying down the stairs, you trip a couple of times, concerned glances shared between Nico and the older lady. None of it matters as you run after Charles. 

Anger must give you wings because he’s long gone when you reach the open air. Dirt crunches underneath your heels as you desperately try to catch a sign that he’s around. When he’s not, you instantly call a cab, rudely directing him to your shared Airbnb. 

-

He loves you; he's sure of it the moment you tuck a strand of hair behind your jeweled ear, slightly hesitant as you try to refresh Nico’s mind over what song you wanted. He even practices a few strings before winking over at you. 

He knows it the moment you reach a certain note that makes your voice crack, smiling shyly, giggling through your singing. 

And you loved him all too late. 

Draft is perfect. Green light, publish it. We can talk about your promotion when you get back. Congratulations. Hard work really does pay off. 

He recognizes the name as soon as it blares across your screen, still recording you, spinning across the stage without a care in the world. He feels inanely invasive when he clicks on the email, but pushes the feeling away with the fact that this appeared to be good news, and was there really any harm to that?

Charles Leclerc: The Man Behind the Helmet.

He reads through, spotting your name swiftly. 

Sat down with him…

High on the beach—a desperate tactic to release some much needed stress during the off season…

Golden pin, prancing horse. Gifted from the late, Hervé Leclerc…

Fearful of what’s to come once Hamilton enters the picture later in 2025…

He’s skimming but it’s enough for him to wonder if he’s experiencing true headache right now. Your voice cuts off, turning pale as you blink back at him. Fury enters his veins as he storms out, not caring about what you must think. He hears you chasing after him, but manages to climb into the first cab he sees. 

What he hates the most is that he still feels like a complete idiot for leaving you behind. For marching out without a single word. 

For being so stupid. 

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[todaysdocument]

At the beginning of WWII, Naval Intelligence officers concluded that there were around 10,000 Japanese Americans who could pose a threat to the U.S.

Army General DeWitt used his authority to incarcerate 120,000. 

U.S. v Korematsu, Exhibit Q, April 30, 1943. 

Record Group 21: Records of District Courts of the United States

Series: Criminal Case Files

File Unit: United States v. Korematsu

Transcription: 

Edward J. Ennis

Director

Exhibit Q

Department of Justice

Alien Enemy Control Unit

Washington

April 30, 1943

[stamp] DEPARTMENT OF [illegible]

SEP 1[illegible] 1951

DIVISION OF [illegible]

ATTORNEY GENERAL [end stamp]

MEMORANDUM FOR THE SOLICITOR GENERAL

RE: Japanese Brief

Last week with our draft of the [underlined] Hirabayeshi [end underlined] brief I transmitted to Mr. Raum somematerial which I thought he would find helpful in obtaining a background view of the context of this case. In particular, I sent him a copy of Harpers Magazine for October 1942, which contains an article entitled [underlined] The Japanese in America, The Problem and the Solution, [end underline] which is said to be by "An Intelligence Officer". without attempting to summarize this article, it stated among other things that:

1. The number of Japanese aliens and citizens who would act as saboteurs and enemy agents was less than 3,500 throughout the entire United States.

2. Of the Japanese aliens, "the large majority are at least passively loyal to the United States".

3. "The Americanization of Nisei (American-born Japanese) is far advanced."

4. With the exception of a few identified persons who were prominent in pro-Japanese organization the only important group of dangerous Japanese were the Kibei (American-born Japanese predominantly educated in Japan).

5. "The identity of Kibei can be readily ascertained from United States Government records."

6. "Had this war not come along at this time, in another ten or fifteen years there would have been no Japanese problem, for the Issei would have passed on, and the Nisei taken their place naturally in American communities and national life."

This article concludes: "To sum up: The  'Japanese Problem' has been magnified out of its true proportion largely because of the physical characteristics of the Japanese people. It should not be handled on the basis of the [underlined: individual], regardless of citizenship and [underlined: not] on a racial basis." (Emphasis in original.)

I thought this article interesting even though it was substantially anonymous. I now attach much more significance to it because a memorandum prepared by Lt. Con. X. D. Ringle, who has until very recently been Assis-

[handwritten in bottom right corner] #8 [end handwritten]

[page 2]

tant District Intelligence Officer, 1th Naval District, in charge of naval intelligence in that district (which includes Los Angeles), and who was formerly Assistant District Intelligence Officer in Hawaii, has come to my attention. A comparison of this memorandum with the article leaves no doubt that the author of the Harpers article is Lt. Com. K. D. Ringle. There are many long passages in the first person relating to personal experiences which are identical in the two writings.

  In addition I am informed entirely unofficially by the persons in the Office of Naval Intelligence that Lt. Com. Ringle in fact was lent to War Relocation Authority to prepare a manual on the background of the Japanese who were being evacuated from an Intelligence or security viewpoint, for the use of the WRA personnel. After this memorandum was prepared permission was obtained to abstract it and publish it anonymously in Harpers. Thus the Harpers article, which clearly indicates that the method of evacuation was wrong and that it would have been sufficient to evacuate not more than 10,000 know Japanese and that it would now be sage to release all but not more than 10,000 presently identified Japanese, was written by a Naval Intelligence officer who was on duty from 1940 until very recently in the Los Angeles area, from which approximately one-third of the evacuation came.

  I have furthermore been most informally, but altogether reliably, advised that both the article and the WRA memorandum prepared by Lt. Com. Ringle represent the views, if not of the Navy, at least of those Naval Intelligence officers in charge of Japanese counter-intelligence work. It has been suggested to me quite clearly that it is the view of these officers that the whole evacuation scheme was carried out badly and that it would have been sufficient to evacuate the following three groups:

1. The Kibei.

2. The parents of Kibei.

3. A known group of aliens and citizens who were active members of pro-Japanese societies such as the Japanese Navy League, the Military Virtue Society, etc.

Since the naval officers believe that it was necessary to evacuate only about 10,000 people they could have identified by name, they did not feel that it was necessary to evacuate all of the Japanese. Presumably, they did not make this view known fourteen months ago for the reasons that Secretary Knox was at that time greatly exercised about the Japanese Fifth Column and that, since it was the Army's problem, it was safer to keep quiet than to brave the political storm then raging.

In retrospect it appears that this Department made a mistake fourteen months ago in not bringing the Office of Naval Intelligence into the

[page 3]

controversy. I suppose that the reason that it did not occur to any of us to do this was the extreme position then taken by the Secretary of the Navy.

   To have done so would have been wholly reasonable, since by the terms of the so-called delimitation agreement it was agreed that Naval Intelligence should specialize on the Japanese, while Army Intelligence occupied other fields. I have not seen the document, but I have repeatedly been told that Army, before the war, agreed in writing to permit the Navy to conduct its Japanese intelligence work for it. I think it follows, therefore, that to a very considerable extent the Army, in acting upon the opinion of Intelligence officers, is bound by the opinion of the Naval officers in Japanese matters. Thus, had we known that the Navy thought that 90% of the evacuation was unnecessary, we could strongly have urged upon Gen. DeWitt that he could not base a military judgment to the contrary upon Intelligence reports, as he now claims to do.

Lt. Com. Ringle's full memorandum is somewhat more complete than the version published in Harpers and I think you will be interested in reading it. In the past year I have looked at  great numbers of reports, memoranda, and articles on the Japanese, and it is my opinion that this is the most reasonable and objective discussion of the security problem presented by the presence of the Japanese minority. In view of the inherent reasonableness of this memorandum and in view of the fact that we now know that it represents the view of the Intelligence agency having the most direct responsibility for investigating the Japanese from the security viewpoint, I feel that we should be extremely careful in taking any position on the facts more hostile to the Japanese than the position of Lt. Com. Ringle. I attach the Department's only copy of this memorandum.

  Furthermore, in view of the fact that the Department of Justice is now representing the Army in the Supreme Court of the United States and is arguing that a partial, selective evacuation was impracticable, we must consider most carefully what our obligation to the Court is in view of the fact that the responsible Intelligence agency regarded a selective evacuation as not only sufficient but preferable. It is my opinion that certainly one of the most difficult questions in the whole case is raised by the fact that the Army did not evacuate people after any hearing or on any individual determination of dangerousness, but evacuated the entire racial group. The briefs filed by appellants in the Ninth Circuit particularly pressed the point that no individual consideration was given, and I regard it as certain that this point will be stressed even more, assuming that competent counsel represent appellants, in the Supreme Court. Thus, in one of the crucial points of the case the Government is forced to argue that individual, selective evacuation would have been impractical and insufficient when we have positive knowledge that the only Intelligence agency responsible for advising Gen. DeWitt gave him advice directly to the contrary.

[page 4[

In view of this fact, I think we should consider very carefully whether we do not have a duty to advise the Court of the existence of the Ringle memorandum and of the fact that this represents the view of the Office of Naval Intelligence. It occurs to me that any other course of conduct might approximate the suppression of evidence.

  As I have said, my information that the Ringle memorandum represents the view of the Office of Naval Intelligence has come to me informally. I feel, therefore, that we have an obligation to verify my informal information. I believer that we should address an inquiry to the Secretary of the Navy, making reference to the Ringle memorandum, and stating that we have been advised that this represents the Navy's view and asking the Secretary if in fact the views of ONI, at the time of the evacuation, coincided with Com. Ringle's.

 The Ringle memorandum originally came into my possession from WRA and we noticed the parallel between the memorandum and the article in this office. Attorneys for WRA furthermore are among the persons who have advised us that the Ringle memorandum represents the official Navy view. In view of the fact that any other information which I have obtained is highly confidential, I would prefer to refer in a letter to Secretary Knox only to WRA.

  I have prepared for your consideration a draft of a letter which you might wish to send to Mr. Knox.

Edward J. Ennis

Director, Alien Enemy Control Unit

Attachment

[redshift-13]

An excellently written article. A few snippets:

President Milei began his assault on the Argentine state immediately upon taking office last December. Right before Christmas, he signed a “megadecree,” or omnibus executive order, that deregulated significant parts of the economy. It reduced severance compensations and transferred workers from union-assigned health care to a voluntary system; lifted ceilings on rent, credit card interests, land tenure, and private health insurance plans; pushed the privatization of state-owned companies (“All government companies should close down,” Milei has explained); paved the way for unregulated international fishing, indiscriminate mining, and unsupervised tactical burning of forests. On December 29 he sent Congress a sweeping “ley ómnibus” with 664 articles. One of them would grant him emergency executive powers, allowing him to unilaterally rule on fiscal and pension matters for up to two years, without Congressional approval. In some three months Milei has also closed or weakened the ministries of education, labor, human rights, women, and the environment.

...

Disinvestment in social support leads to a perverse populist conclusion: social spending itself is the problem, not that the spending isn't high enough.

It's a common criticism, justified in my view, that conservative voters often vote against their own self-interest. (I don't mean to imply by contrast that voting for the Dems is a panacea by any means.) In Strangers in Their Own Land - Anger and Mourning on the American Right, Arlie Russell Hochschild examines specific individual cases of working and middle class voters who, despite living in a polluted environment with high cancer rates, nevertheless arrive at the conclusion that we have to abolish the Environmental Protection Agency.

Through a combination of cynical intuition and programmatic dishonesty to hide their actual motives, Republicans routinely propose cuts to, among other things, Social Security and Medicare, in the hope that voters will blame these programs for being insufficient, forget that the insufficiency has actual perpetrators, and will then be amenable to free market "solutions."

A similar or identical logic seems to be at work in Argentina, and with predictable results:

Voters also became increasingly ambivalent about the benefits of the welfare state as its effectiveness dwindled. For most of the second half of the twentieth century, Argentina’s literacy rate was close to 95 percent, supported by a massive public education system. Today, for every hundred students who enter public primary school, only forty-six graduate passing the Pruebas Aprender—a standardized test in mathematics and Spanish. Just half make it to the end of high school, and a paltry sixteen pass the version of the test designed for that stage. Public hospitals were once the gems of the Argentine welfare state. As the middle and upper-middle classes absconded to the private system, however, the quality of care declined. Today half of lower-income patients have not visited a doctor in a year; those who do face waits two or three times longer than those in the private health care system. “Most of those funding public goods have abandoned them a long time ago,” the sociologists Javier Auyero and Sofia Servián have argued. “Those who use them feel them broken and shattered.”

...

The libertarian "free market" inevitably requires a great deal of coercion and the abrogation of basic rights. So, it's not surprising that a kind of moral inversion appears, a political transubstantiation where actual sources of oppression are transformed into victims, and the efforts to alleviate immiseration are vilified.

Even as he rails against the political caste, Milei has been careful to support the military. His vice president, Victoria Villarruel, is the granddaughter, daughter, and niece of members of the armed forces. Her uncle, the intelligence officer Ernesto Villarruel, worked at the clandestine detention center El Vesubio during the military dictatorship. Villarruel herself has set up the Center for Legal Studies on Terrorism and its Victims, which called for the release of many military figures imprisoned for torture, assassinations, and kidnappings. It’s an intervention that effectively redefines human rights. Villarruel presents “urban crime, state negligence or corruption, and traffic accidents” as human rights violations on par with the military’s crimes, Verónica Torras, executive director of the human rights organization Memoria Abierta, told me. “At the same time…[the government] moves towards an increasing criminalization of social and economic rights.”

Much more at the link (unfortunately behind a paywall).