#c) things being worse for like [i like doing this performance i don't like that parents are in the audience / involved]

[unproduciblesmackdown]

love my own like theatrical relationship to shakespeare which is a) being so slow to realize like "oh, i've loved theatre? everyone doesn't just feel this way & go 'of course acting onstage would fucking kick ass' & adore rehearsals and hanging around backstage and in greenrooms and changing and performing & etc?' never really occurred to me" and b) my response to most encounters w/shakespeare being "wha" when it comes to anything granular yet the relevance still in the spirit of things lol

namely one prominent example being i was an on campus college student where said campus has a shakespearean theater literally three blocks away, and we had like a freshmen orientation weekly class there doing shit with actors and checking out the theater, not to mention like punchcards to see four shows free (to write up about afterwards but yeah sure whatever) and this wherein also you always got student discount tickets And there were pwyw performances....kicked ass. i went there for shows so many times. i have never fucking known what tf is going on in any of the like dozen shows i saw there when a) audio processing can be tricky enough for real life modern vernacular parsing and b) sure am not used to ye old very stylized language nor any other qualities of shakespearean material so lots of times when i finally started to kind of acclimate to the language it would be like "oh wait that was the conclusion? ok. hoorayyyyy" like also c) You Have A Great Time Seeing Shakespeare Productions Anyways like again i loved going anytime. it's Theatrical and if people are just putting their damn backs into delivering and performing the material it's An Experience even if you're really not following lmfao. and i suppose one can read the text / familiarize oneself beforehand

also like my first and really one of my only like regular theatre performing experiences was my literature class in fourth grade doing a few scenes from julius caesar. i was so hype for getting cassius like one of the most prominent roles? a guy? an antagonist if you're caesar or dante??? oh Fuck yes. b/c of technical difficulties we got to perform it twice in a row when we did a field trip to some other school to perform our respective [scenes from various shakespeare plays] altogether. even back then i was way into it and cared about stuff like "we have like no Effects to make it that dramatic when we kill caesar. or like, non silent. bit awkward" and "also i like, don't know how to act and am just winging it. and of course, i'm also like 9" like in theory i do like to know How to do something vs trying to make it up myself. somewhat lol. a balance, who can argue w/that

beyond that there's also lots of things i just didn't quite realize "counted" lmfao like, when you're a theatre gay with a parent req'ing you go to church every week but you have a good time being in the choir....i was sure on those tenor harmonies & singing loud. and going relatively often to various live theatrical events, having an engaging enough time there, but also would've assumed anyone would be into it And that that's not really the same as actually being in them, of course. but that most of my firsthand experience was just sticking w/ballet for like a decade, and kind of live theatrical performance adjacency there. don't say shit, for years was effectively just like, an ensemble for the occasional performances, but even then it's like hoorayyy i Love rehearsing and being onstage and backstage and dealing w/costumes and coordination behind the scenes and shit. and eventually being like, a distinct individual character in shows, so despite again nobody saying shit you're still somewhat interpreting and doing whatever character work while also enjoying the bennies of [it's dance, so also it's choreographed]....even more clear like oh i love backstage and rehearsing and behind the scenes and onstage and putting together stage character makeup, and i don't mind tackling technical difficulties, and etc etc. didn't even necessarily have the reference like, idk, wouldn't / doesn't everyone feel similarly. classic ye old memory of like being idfk 7 or some shit simply getting to walk with classmates behind a backdrop to the opposite wing of a stage, and loving that lmao. combines a love for [backstage] and [secret passages] type deal lol, big fan of these elements

also in 7th grade doing a theatre/drama class for a few months and we couldn't really get like all this in depth extensive stuff b/c you know, intro course for like 8 weeks for rando middle schoolers, but idk it was just illustrative lmao like after julius caesar, us slapping together some kind of script and my getting to be this fun little theatrical(tm) antagonist guy again? feedback was "what was supposed to be happening" but could've stood to have learned that the enthusiasm and affinity i felt for acting onstage was perhaps indicative of enthusiasm and affinity for acting onstage rather than just, idk, the exact kind of baseline experience any & everyone would have lol. not that i would've necessarily had the chance to really do anything with that knowledge, but even now, ofc i don't particularly anticipate getting to use it, but it's great having that knowledge like ohhh i see. the entire time i've been huge into doing theatre with all these kind of adjacent & gently overlapping brushes with it. gotcha

[itsprashimusic]

Monaco and Monza

Summary - Charles, his favourite person (and their puppy) before, during and after the most important race wins of his life.

Pairings - Charles Leclerc x fem!Reader

Warnings - no use of y/n, google translate French and Italian, r can make decent conversation in French and Italian, possible inaccurate timelines, it is hinted that R is not from France or Monaco, honorable louis tomlinson appearance bc I am a former louie girlie, R has blue light glasses, cuss words. Happy reading🩵

W/C - 3.9k

A/N - i write all my female Rs with a desi in mind. Written in 2nd pov. I wrote R with a mindset and likes similar to mine, you are free to skip this fic if you don't like it.

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Before Monaco

An hour had passed on the three hour flight from Imola to Nice. Charles was asleep and Leo was curled up in your lap. Sitting in an oversized top and sweatpants, you were quite comfortable while doing some work. You work for a company that allows you to work remotely, which is a huge blessing considering your longtime boyfriend travels the world every other week.

The tiny pup yawned big as he woke up from his nap. You scratched him under the chin. Leo moved around in your lap, found another comfortable spot and went right back to sleep just as Charles also moved to find another comfortable position to nap in. You smiled to yourself and continued working.

Soon the plane landed in a private airport in the French city of Nice. Your bags were handled by the hired help, and Charles insisted on carrying your laptop bag for you. This left you walking along his side with Leo in your arms, still sound asleep. The boat ride to Monaco didn't take long and the drive to your shared apartment went by in a blur.

It felt nice being home during race week. You left Leo in his bed and joined Charles in the living room. Coming up from behind you hugged him while softly asking, "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?" (what is on your mind?). Even after all these years you still cringed at your accent.

"The race" he replied.

You sighed as you remembered the dnfs, mechanical failures and team errors that Charles had to endure. Year after year, the pain just kept getting worse as you watched from the grandstands and eventually the garage.

"You should focus on the positives. The team has been performing well and this season has been different than the last 3, there is hope." you weren't sure if what you said was the right thing. You kissed him on the cheek and moved around the couch to come and sit next to him.

"It is not easy when every other time I have had hope, it has been ripped away and torn into tiny pieces," Charles said while looking defeated. You felt sad seeing him like this. You just held your arms out and let him fall into your embrace. With the couch being big enough for two people to sleep on it, soon you and Charles fell asleep, still in the hug.

During Monaco

Photographers snapped photos of you and Rebecca, Leo's leash entwined with your hand. The two of you were spotted outside the Ferrari hospitality an hour before qualifying. Charles was busy with his engineer and strategist and asked you to give him some alone time. So, you thought a small walk around the paddock with your puppy and good friend would be beneficial.

Eventually the crowd of fans surrounding you and Rebecca who wanted to see Leo was getting quite large, so you politely said goodbye to the fans, picked up the pup and made your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. You got a text from your boyfriend.

Can you come to my drivers room?

You entered the room and put Leo down, allowing him to calm down and drink some water from his very own water bottle and attached bowl. "Darling, do you need something?" you asked Charles as he looked tense.

You moved closer to him. Charles caught you by surprise when he pulled you even closer and hugged you extremely tight. "Je ne me sens pas bien," (i don't feel good) he whispered. "C'est bon. Tout ira bien. It's ok, you'll be ok." you quietly kept repeating to him until Leo began demanding attention with his big brown eyes and soft whines.

Charles wiped the few tears that escaped and picked him up with a new smile adorning his face. For a moment, it was just the three of you, your perfect little family. There was a knock at the door, followed by a Ferrari team member informing Charles that he was required in 5 minutes. Charles placed a wet kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you for supporting me the way you do. I love you so much, mon cœur," (my heart) he said, his lips still on your forehead. The pair walked out of the room and split ways. You had the hired help watch Leo for the duration of qualifying in a private room.

You sat with Charles' family just as the Sky Sports camera panned on you. You smiled when you saw yourself on the monitor and gave a small wave while sitting next to Charlotte.

Even though you knew that Charles would easily clear Q1, you could not help the anxiety that made its way throughout your body. He crossed the line and made it to Q2. With the next session, your anxiety worsened. But within 15 minutes your nerves eased.

Q3. This was it. As the minutes slowly turned from 12 to 2, you were feeling sick. Charles' sleek Ferrari flew over the finish line and your hands flew to your mouth. Pole Position. At his home race. At your home race. The cameras focused on you to get your and his family's reaction.

At parc ferme, Charles ran over to his team who hyped him up even more. He signed the wheel and posed for the photos, the smile never leaving his face. Even after finishing up his media duties and making his way back to his family and you in the motorhome, his smile remained ever present. You swore he never hugged you tighter than that.

Race day. The day that actually mattered.

You entered the paddock a few steps behind Charles, Leo once again in your hold. You didn't get a lot of time with Charles, considering he was the man of the hour after securing pole. The two of you shared a moment together before he had to head out for the national anthem.

"Comment te sens-tu, chérie?" (how are you feeling, darling?) you asked him while he changed into his race suit. He looked up and the look on his face gave you your answer. You smiled and he continued wearing his suit. There were butterflies in his stomach. That meant he felt nervous, hopeful, anxious and confident all at once.

Charles was out on the track, and you once again joined his family in the motorhome. At that point though, it would be more appropriate to call them your family. You and Charles have been together for a long time. The pair of you had seen each other at their lowest and highest. When Charles lost his father and when for nearly a year you could not get a job. When news of Anthoine's death reached Charles, he was on holiday with you and your family in another country. Your family gave him the comfort he needed. When you got news that your parents contracted covid, there was nothing you could do sitting in your apartment in Monaco. Pascale was like a second mother to you.

The race began. You found a place to sit and watch the race. Charles was in the lead. A huge crash. A totaled redbull and a red flag. You felt the butterflies creeping up from your stomach to your throat. The race resumed and continued. Piastri was close to Charles, but not enough to threaten his position. It felt like time slowed down during the final lap. You had an earbud plugged in one ear and could hear Crofty's iconic last lap commentary.

The number 16 Ferrari flew past the checkered flag and fireworks flew out from the sides of the track. Charles' family members were already hugging each other and some of the team members who were there. But you didn't move. Tears were flowing down your face and a smile was etched on your face. The first person you moved to hug was Charlotte, the older woman was like an elder sister to you.

The camera's stream kept cutting from Charles out on the track to you and his family in the motorhome. Everyone quickly left the garage and made their way to parc ferme. You saw Charles pull up and stop in front of the 1st place stand. You watched from the back as he ran to his team, Arthur and Lorenzo pushed their way to the front. After getting weighed, the team moved to allow you to come to the front where Charles walked towards you.

Normally, you and Charles would keep the pda on the lesser side when cameras were around, but not this time. The forever smiling face, messy-haired and slightly teary-eyed boyfriend of yours pulled you directly into a powerful kiss. His left arm was around your back while his right hand was half on your face and half on your neck. You could hear and feel all the cameras going off around you.

Charles broke the kiss but kept your foreheads connected. You held both of his hands. "Tu l'as fait," (you did it) you repeated in all the languages you knew while nodding your head. You could see the tears welling up in his eyes again. He quickly blinked them away, "L'ho fatto," (i did it) he said in Italian quickly kissed you once again before hugging you.

You stood below the podium and watched as he received the trophy he had been waiting his entire life for. You were still crying. The tears would not stop, and they only got worse when Charles made eye contact with you after he was presented with the medal. He mouthed the words I love you. So much. Thank you. You could only hold your hand to your heart in response.

After Monaco

Even after a full day, you could still smell the fragrance of champagne wafting off of Charles.

You and Charles had celebrated his win on Sunday night in a club. He was practically glued to your side the entire night. No matter who he was talking to, either he did it while having an arm around you or holding your hand. By the end of the night, you were left with a very clingy and very drunk boyfriend. With Joris's help, you got Charles into the car. He drove the both of you home.

Back at the apartment, Charles seemed to have sobered up a bit after you made him eat some food.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Charles was lying down on the bed and was lovingly staring at you.

"All the time," you answered while changing for the night.

You finished changing and joined Charles in bed. Leo who was previously perched near Charles' feet climbed onto you and snuggled up on your chest.

Charles got your attention by saying your name, "I want you to understand what I mean when I say this. I love you. I appreciate you so much, even I cannot comprehend it. You have supported me throughout my years in Formula 1 and Formula 2. You have stood by me all these years, even when you had to sacrifice your job and sleep schedule for me. Je veux que vous compreniez la profondeur de ce que je dis." (i want you to understand the depth of what i am saying).

His eyes kept moving around but eventually rested on your face. He looked into your eyes when he finally spat out what he truly wanted to say.

"Mon cœur, mon âme, ma vie, je veux passer le reste de ma vie avec toi. Veux-tu m'épouser?" (My heart, my soul, my life, i want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?)

I took you a second to process what Charles said. You looked down and saw him holding a simple gold band with three small diamonds set in it. His free arm was laid across your stomach under Leo, who woke up when he sensed his mom feeling strong emotions.

Tears filled your eyes, your heart began beating faster and you were sweating a bit. Leo moved to the bed and was now licking the tears that fell from your eyes. You felt like you couldn't speak, but you very much knew what your answer was.

Before Monza

The summer break was perfect. You used your paid leave and were fully able to enjoy your time with the entire family. The photos of Leo that Charles posted to his instagram were adored by the fans. Your insta account remained private, but you still posted the dog nonetheless.

Neither of you announced the engagement just yet, wanting to keep it to yourselves for a while. Fans got curious when they saw a new ring around that special finger after Charles' win in Monaco, but since it was quite simple and small, they thought nothing much of it. You were known for wearing many different rings on the same finger, so people thought it was just another ring you fancied.

Unfortunately, after your long break, you were required to come back to the office for a few days for important meetings with the higher-ups of your company. That meant you missed the race in Zandvoort and Charles podium. But you made it up to him by joining him in Monza, his adopted home race.

Walking in the streets of Monza with a loved Ferrari driver was always quite the experience. Leo loved the attention from all the fans, he was a born extrovert. You and Charles had lunch at one of your favourite restaurants. The both of you sat in a relatively private section of the restaurant.

"I missed you at Zandvoort," Charles said before eating a morsel of his favourite pasta. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I tried to leave as early as I could, but by the time the meeting finished it made no sense to come," you said wishing you could have been there for him. Ever since Monaco, the team had been struggling. It brought back painful flashbacks of 2022 and 2023.

Things were not the best between you and Charles during the week you were out for work. The timings never seemed to match, when he had the energy to talk you were too burnt out, and doing all of this while also planning a wedding was not easy. It put a small strain on your relationship which seemed like it was reaching its breaking point during this weekend.

During Monza

You spent the rest of the week working. In between the free practice sessions, you were spotted with a pair of blue-light glasses on and bent over your laptop and a notebook. Leo was either sleeping in his carrier by your feet or was with Arthur or Lorenzo.

You barely saw Charles the entire weekend. He was either busy with his engineer and strategist or was filming content. It only made the strain in your relationship even worse and left Rebecca having to hear your side of it for most of the weekend considering both the boys were quite busy.

It was only before qualifying that you managed to get a moment with Charles at all.

"Charles, I know this is an important race for you, but we need to talk," you sternly said leaving no room for arguments. Charles was about to protest but you simply pulled him by the arm to his drivers room.

"Pourquoi tu ne me parles pas?" (why are you not talking to me?) you folded your arms while facing him. "You have been avoiding me ever since Thursday!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were too tired and 'fagged out' to want to talk," he replied sarcastically and with air quotes. "Je ne comprends pas pourquoi tu dois te comporter comme ça!" (I don't get why you have to behave like that!) Charles started walking around angrily and went off rattling away in French at such a fast pace you could not understand what he was saying.

"Just stop!" you yelled. "Just tell me why you are angry at me," you said, softer this time, almost in defeat.

"I don't like it when you are so busy with your work that you do not have time for us," Charles whispered after a long pause.

"And how do you think I feel when you are so busy with your work? I am required to go to the office at least every six months. You travel around the world every other week. You have less free time than I do, but have you heard me complain? So, instead of getting angry that I had to leave for one week to discuss plans for the company's future with the CEO, you should be happy that it was only one week out of the 52 in a year."

By the time you finished speaking, Charles had his hands over his face and was standing quite far from you. He whispered something inaudibly. With a confused look on your face, you moved closer to your fiancé. Upon feeling your body heat in the cold room, he removed his hands from his face and repeated his words.

I'm sorry.

The both of you wrapped yourselves in an embrace and for 5 minutes were only apologising and promising to do better in the future. You left the room after giving him a kiss. You headed down to the garage wanting to watch quali with Arthur who was watching Leo while you worked.

The timer began the countdown into Q1. Normally you would've been feeling quite nervous, but you were distracted by the charming british singer sitting next to you. Being a young girl during the height of One Direction was something else entirely. Your childhood dreams of meeting your favourite singer from the famous boyband had now come true.

Soon it was time for Q3 and you got a photo with Louis who by the time Q3 began, just like the rest of the world, fell in love with Leo and his photos. Charles put in great laps, but ended up only p4 alongside Russel.

Charles finished with his media duties and met up with you inside the motorhome. You were on a work call when he walked into the room. Leo was in the corner of the room scarfing down his food as if he hadn't eaten in years, his ears flopping all over the place.

You cut the call frustrated, removing your glasses from your face and placing them on your head. "Est-ce que tu vas bien?" (are you good?) he asked while holding you from the side and kissing your temple. You nodded and just packed up your things while Charles gathered his things as well.

The grandstands were filled with a sea of red and occasional yellow. Your outfit consisted of only red, yellow and black. Charles had left for the paddock earlier, so you made plans to have breakfast with Rebecca and leave for the paddock together.

You walked around before the race with Leo on the leash in front of you, Rebecca by your side. "So, how is wedding planning going?" she asked, her beautiful scottish accent making you smile. "We are still looking at venues. All we know is that it's going to be sometime in August of next year."

The drivers would soon be called for the national anthem. So, you went back to the Ferrari garage looking for your soon-to-be husband. You found him sitting next to Arthur, water bottle in hand. Leo instantly ran towards him and began climbing up his dad.

"Just do your best. Give it your all. Je t'aime tellement." (i love you so much) you sent Charles off with a hug. Leo was fast asleep in his carrier, so you joined Arthur down in the garage. You put on the large red headphones and waved at the camera when you saw yourself on the broadcast.

Halfway through the race, it hit you that Charles could possibly win. It was a stretch considering he was attempting a one-stopper. But as lap after lap went by the possibility of that dream coming true seemed more and more likely. His tires were probably gonna look like chewed-up bubblegum by the end of the race, but if he managed them just right...

He did it. He fucking did it. The roar of the Tifosi was stronger than ever. Unlike his last win, this time you were not seated. You were jumping up and down, cheering as loud as you could, matching the energy of the Ferrari team members around you. Some of them hugged you.

While Charles was finishing his cool-down lap, the mechanics and other team members rushed out to greet Charles in parc ferme. You stayed close to Arthur, knowing that you could possibly get pushed in the wrong direction. With a hand around your back, he guided you to the front where you could see the beautiful red car pull up.

Charles came running toward the team, moving quickly to try and hug everyone possible. As he moved from Arthur to hug you, from the corner of your eyes you could see more cameras making their way towards you. FLASH! And that was how one of the iconic photos of Monza 2024 was born. Charles' arms wrapped around you and he had his visor up, his eyes filled with so much emotion. You were smiling widely in the photo and had your hands on either side of his helmet. But the part that made the photo iconic was that your left hand was facing the camera, and in that, you had tucked away all of your fingers except the one with your engagement ring.

Winning the Italian Grand Prix as a Ferrari driver is always special, so you watched the podium celebration from inside the motorhome, wanting him to enjoy the moment with the team and the Tifosi to the fullest.

After Monza

For the next two days, the streets of Monza were filled with Ferrari flags being either hung from somewhere or people waving them around. It seemed like every other Italian was asking for an autograph from Charles or a photo with him. But it wasn't just Charles and Ferrari who were the talk of town. So were you.

That photo of you and Charles just after the race had gone viral. At first, people were freaking out, wondering if the two of you were really engaged or if it was a joke. Only when Charles reposted the photo to his story did fans really start freaking out.

Congratulations were pouring out of everyone's mouth who had seen the photo or heard of the news. You didn't mean for the news to overshadow Charles' incredible win on 38-lap old tires. But it didn't. As a matter of fact, the win and engagement news gelled well together, neither taking away from the other.

The night before the team would be heading to Maranello you and Charles laid in the hotel bed, Leo fast asleep on his own bed. "I'm sorry for not asking if you'd be fine with me announcing our engagement," you said in a soft voice while drawing shapes on his torso. Charles, who had you wrapped around his side, kissed your forehead and said, "Je suis content que tu l'aies fait," (I am glad you did it).

The next morning Charles posted a photo of a formal dinner the two of you had with not just his but also your family where the engagement was announced. Of course, Leo was in the center of the photo.

A/n - honestly idk what i even wrote. i am tired af and just needed to get this out of my system. Hope you enjoyed reading🩵

[transmutationisms]

I have always been wary of the psychiatric industry, but its only very recently that i started to read anti-psychiatric works. Your blog is the first time i saw that the "chemical imbalances causing mental illness" is a myth, and honestly its something im having a hard time wrapping my head around.

Is it that mood regulation struggles, labelled as a mental illnesses, has more to do with outside factors instead of the person "just being that way"? Is it therefore unlikely for someone to have struggles with mood regulation if they cant identify any external causes that would cause them to be, for example, extremely agoraphobic or to have anger management issues? Im asking this for myself mainly, cause i always had intense agoraphobia no matter how i often go outside my home (in fact it was worse when i was a teen and i was outside the house in even more back then). I cant think of any reason for me to be like this than chemical imbalances in my brain.

the specific 'chemical imbalance' myth i was talking about in this post is the idea that depression is caused by low serotonin, and that therefore SSRIs—serotonin re-uptake inhibitors, ie drugs that cause a higher level of serotonin in the brain—ought to cure or at least ameliorate depression. this conjecture is belied by the fact that SSRIs don't, at a population level, reliably perform better than placebo.

although a neurobiological cause of 'mental illness' has long been the holy grail of psychiatry, the serotonin imbalance myth is far from the only hypothesis that psychiatrists and neuroscientists have proposed. so, a critique of the serotonin myth is not synonymous with, or generalisable to, a critique of every neurobiological mechanism purported to explain psychiatric diagnoses. you may be interested to know, though, that genomics and neuroscience have not identified a biological cause of any psychiatric diagnosis (p. 851).

all human experiences are biologically instantiated, including in the brain and wider nervous system. we are embodied beings. however, it is a leap to assume that such instantiation is automatically equivalent to a causal explanation or disease etiology. in other words, to deny that psychiatric diagnoses are known to be biologically caused does not mean we deny that thoughts and thought patterns express in the physical matter of neuroanatomy. this is a major philosophical sticking point to keep in mind whenever you're looking at something like, eg, a study that purports to show 'brain differences' in those assigned a certain psychiatric diagnosis. another thing to consider is whether these papers are plagued with methodological issues or financial conflicts of interest.

i can't possibly tell you why you exhibit agoraphobia. however, when i talk about social, economic, and environmental factors that may contribute to the patterns of behaviour labelled as 'mental illness', i'm talking about much more than the individual choice to leave your house. since phobias are 'anxiety disorders', i might start by probing into questions like: is the world you live in safe? do you perceive it as safe? do you or your community face existential threats that may confront you more obviously when you go outside? are you nervous around other people, and if so, might that be connected to fears (well-founded or not) about interpersonal violence and harm? do you think any of these anxieties may be connected to the hostility and inaccessible design of the social environment and economic conditions?

human behaviour and thought varies. some of those variations may be totally benign; others may be helpful or harmful to the person living with them. it would be weird if every single one of the 8 billion people on earth experienced precisely the same amount of anxiety about any situation, no? all of this is to say: yeah, it's entirely possible you have been, for one reason or another (genetic, neuroanatomical, social, &c) predisposed to experience high, even debilitating levels of anxiety when leaving your home. most human characteristics develop from a tangle of social, environmental, material causes—ie, from a combination of 'nature' and 'nurture'. what doesn't follow, though, is the claim that there is therefore a discrete, 'diseased' element of your brain or brain functioning that can simply be cured or eliminated through psychiatric intervention.

it is a critical point of anti-psychiatry to challenge psychiatric and neuroscientific claims to neurobiological determinism where psychiatric diagnoses are concerned. this is for many reasons, including: a) that these claims have not been demonstrated to actually be true [see above]; b) that they rob pathologised people of agency and self-determination [see: you're too sick to know you're sick, and the doctor will fix you now]; c) that they are often pushed by pharmaceutical companies with financial interests, or grant-funded researchers with... financial interests; d) that they are politically seductive in various eugenic, hereditarian discourses that seek to eliminate the biologically 'unfit' element from society.

[moghedien]

obviously there are a bunch of issues with the MCU and I'm not gonna sit here and try to convince everyone that MCU movies are cinema or whatever so don't get what I'm gonna say twisted. I do find their kinda mainstay in cultural media and the dominance they had to be interesting, especially now in an era where the MCU is undeniably falling off and struggling. just as like a cultural analysis I find that interesting and everyone has their opinions of why it happened.

my opinion/theory on why the MCU just crashed is because they sort of forgot what it means to be telling a comic book story, especially a marvel comic book story. Because I've read thousands of issues of various marvel series at this point, across tons of different eras and events, and the thing that makes them last (which is also a thing that drives me personally crazy and I hate so much) is that the status quo doesn't really change. Or when it does, it lasts for a few arcs or years at most and then gets reverted back to the norm eventually. Like the fact that everything is pointless and nothing is a risk is something I loathe, but it is admittedly what keeps them going. If someone just got into comics, they can pick up a modern issue and expect to find Spider-man or Captain America or whoever. They may be introduced to new characters, but the big ones will show up eventually.

And after the last Avengers movie, like half of the mainstay cast are just gone. Which as someone who likes good stories, I think is a good opportunity (which is arguably being wasted but idk I haven't watched any MCU thing in years) to actually shake things up and develop characters that mainstream people are less familiar with and give them a chance to shine and tell interesting stories. But that's not why people like marvel comics.

People like marvel comics because if they want to read about Iron Man, they can pick up any random issue about Iron Man and it will most likely be the Iron Man they know. People like the status quo, and Marvel has never been high literature and has always basically been pulp storytelling, and it gave people status quo and familiarity. And I think Marvel Studios figured this out waaayyy too late.

Because if Marvel actually understood what people like about the comics, they would have embraced recasting major roles from the start. They wouldn't have tied characters' identities so strongly to their actors and would have made it clear that characters can and will continue on with different faces. There is no reason why Tony Stark needs to be RDJ or Steve Rogers needs to be Chris Evans. They would have had plans to not write these characters out of existance the second actors wanted to exit or died or were fired or any of the various reason why actors are no longer involved with the MCU. Hell they had precedent. They didn't have a problem replacing Terrence Howard with Don Cheadle, who are very different looking people who give very different performances, but we know why they felt ok with that recasting but won't recast any of their boys named Chris...

Anyway it seems like they realized that general audiences don't actually like change if its permanent and are learning the wrong lessons with the Doom casting nonsense and the fact that they seem to keep changing what the new story is to fit what they think audiences want.

I'm fine with the MCU dying off and its probably better for media that it does, but again I'm just kinda interested in the fumble from like an objective standpoint because it seemed like they just locked themselves into eventual failure in such a stupid way. Like they could have told the same safe representative Avengers storylines for decades and wouldn't have a meltdown every time an actor in a major role needed to be removed from production if they just accepted that people would be recast as needed. It would be worse for actors and it would be worse for movies in general probably, but it would have kept the MCU churning out pulp like the comics do to this day. But now people are realizing its not just pulp but pulp they don't want and its gonna kill the MCU eventually.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the river (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

the end of a trilogy series

previous chapter / next chapter

masterlist

6.1k words

warnings: angst, fluff, self-destructive behavior, finnick's bias now so you can see how they both view the other as the more broken one, mental health issues, allusions to suicide, allusions to trafficking and trauma surrounding it, the opposite of a slowburn it's giving their soulmates, mentions of death/torture/violence/brainwashing, unedited, no use of y/n

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Seeing your face again could have sent Finnick into another frenzy, he'd been scared he'd forget it even though he thought about it every second of every day. But he couldn't do that, he needed to listen, hear your voice again. You had that smile plastered on your face that everyone could easily believe in, and had for years, except him. There was a mournful, numb look that would settle in the back of your eyes whenever you put on a performance, one that usually leads to dissociation. On top of that, you looked tired, the way you looked when after you'd won your Games and hadn't been able to escape the nightmares. 

Your voice was like music in his ears when you greeted Ceasar back, a tune that could soothe his soul if he wasn't so worried about you. It pained him to notice that in the midst of everything, of holding you captive, of the rebellion, they'd still managed to play dress up with you. Goosebumps covering your skin, the outfit barely covered any of you, you'd always run cold, and the Capitol seemed to know this. “So you're saying you knew nothing about the rebel plan?"

You shook your head emphatically, “No, I told you all how sure I was that I was never coming out of that arena. It was just as much of a shock to me." His clever, clever girl, trying so hard to play it safe.

“At the end you were screaming about forgetting something, what was that?" Caesar asked.

The tracker. The stupid tracker. "Finnick…" You trailed off, looking into the camera for a second like you were trying to reach out to him, “We had a special way of communicating with each other that comes with being together that long, I needed to find him, I still don't remember why.”

"So did he know about the rebel plan?”

Your foot was tapping slightly and Finnick prayed, for your sake, that no one else knew how anxious that indicated you were. “If he did, he didn't tell me." You looked at the camera again, addressing the citizens of the Capitol, "And I want everyone to know that if he did know anything, he would only do it if he thought it meant we could be together. He would never want this, the rebellion, the terror, both of us love all of you and Panem so much. His intentions would've been of love, not harm.” 

Finnick was so proud that your years of charisma for the Capitol was pulling through now. He felt like he was going to cry, the way you were defending him in the off chance that everything went wayward and he also ended up in Capitol clutches somehow. Maybe, if Snow really thought you knew nothing, he'd consider you more than just bait, maybe there'd be quite a few of these interviews left to boost morale for Capitol citizens. To see one of their favorite victors spewing out propaganda, it would also keep you alive longer, so out of all things that's what Finnick would place his hopes on. 

“Peeta called for a ceasefire, would you agree with this, that things should just be called off?” You glanced off camera, anxiously scratching at your arms.

"Yes, a ceasefire needs to be called.” Your smile reeked of discomfort and fear, and he was even more grateful that it was something only he knew how to sense from you. “The destruction being caused, the death, will get so much worse if this continues. No one wants that, this can all be sorted out. President Snow is merciful, but only if a ceasefire is called for.” It was sickening, the lies you were being forced to tout. Snow was anything but merciful, he'd probably throw the victors into the arena again, or just line them all up to be shot, or make death causing ‘accidents’ occur as soon as possible. Then you were crying and Finnick longed to hold you, to tell you it would be okay, to give any words of comfort he could. "I'm sorry, so much has happened recently.”

"Well us in the Capitol are glad to still have you with us." Finnick hated that they had you, that Caesar could still force you to perform for all of Panem and act like you're fine.

"I'm glad to be here with all of you too!” You mutter through tears and your signature, fake smile.

"Before we go, is there anything you want to say if the rebels are watching out there, if Finnick, your husband is watching out there?”

“He's not a rebel." You say quickly, with as much urgency as you can. Your eyes shut for a second and you're muttering to yourself, “He's my husband, he's not a rebel, not a rebel."

"Right, he's not a rebel.” Caesar says with what's supposed to be a comforting smile.

Your eyes open and you nod, wiping away stray tears, “And I'm just reminding everyone how badly we need a ceasefire, to stop all of this. To stop the suffering and all that could come.” Your smiling again, so forced it looks like it hurts and you're rubbing your necks until it's red, "Ceasefire, ceasefire, ceasefire is important.” It's like you're chasing a thought you're being forced to remember.

“Yes, a ceasefire is important." Caesar nods, "Well a big thank you to the Capitol Princess for her message here today.” Your smile drops as you nod at the camera before it cuts and Finnick has been once again abandoned with his thoughts. 

What are they doing to you to convince you to say things you would never believe? How sweet you are for insisting upon his innocence anyway you can, he misses you more than home, the ocean, the feeling of fresh air in his lungs, the sun shining down on his face, he would happily live without it all if you could just be here, with him. You'd looked so exhausted and he misses being able to hold you, keep you warm so you could rest and feel safe when you did. He longs to see your genuine smile, the way your eyes would soften and the way your nose crinkled when you laughed.

A fantasy he can drive himself into before the anger can fall back into place, how he needs to hijack something so he can rescue you. He'd rage to President Coin herself if he could force her to do it, but they barely even let him out of the hospital wing. He's sobbing again, calloused hands trying to clear his face of the tears. Maybe they think he hasn't seen it, so they aren't worried about his reaction, they probably assume he's sleeping or focused on tying his knots, but it's just the eye of the hurricane. He can only stain the plain, scratchy sheets with his tears for so long before the hysteria will return. But for now he can mourn. He can hate himself, wish the rope was long enough to let him leave, and wish you could've both just chosen to be together in death. It would've been better then torture he's going through now. How there's not a second he can't focus on you, what he misses, what he dreads could be happening to you, the dreams of your future.

Dreams where you could be at home, surrounded by friends and family having the traditional District 4 wedding, sea shanty's and all. Where there was no fear that Snow would manipulate the games to force your children to be spectacles so you'd had children, as many as you wanted. Who you'd take to the beach, teach them about the animals, teach them to swim, and be the family he knows deep down you'd both have wished for. There'd been a glimpse where that was possible and then there'd been the impending doom that it wasn't. That instead it would be the wish he had when they told him you were dead.

Death. You. The idea that death could creep up with its slender hands and drag you away into the cavernous pit, that would leave him forever alone. He'd gratefully dig the claws of death into himself to bring you back or lay with you in the lowest parts of the cliffs forever. Death. You. Him. Freedom. Chains broken, no more threats, no more needs, just the end with you. 

Instead he needed to face the brazen winds to return you to his arms. You'd looked so cold and he missed being able to warm you, for you to cool him down. He had to get you back and the frenzy was back. Finnick was back on his feet, tearing himself from the bed, not giving a care to the things around him, if they fell to the floor it was something else out of his way. This commotion did alert the medics close by and Finnick was instantly trying to run by them.

“We have to save her, I need to save her!” He urged, but they were used to his antics. They'd long ago retrieved the manpower required to overpower him when he got like this. That didn't mean he still wouldn't fight, he still had the strength it took to shove most of them off, react violently when they got their hands on him, and struggle when eventually a larger group had their arms on him, ready to sedate once again. Maybe that was a good thing though, it allowed him to fully focus all of his thoughts on you and everything you two had. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

He was early, but he didn't care, well he kind of did when he paced by the cobblestones not far from your house wondering when he should knock. Wicker picnic basket being moved between each of his hands, careful not to hit the bouquet of flowers he was holding, as he anxiously counted down. Finnick knew he said noon, but did that mean five minutes before would be the right time to show up? 10 minutes? Exactly at noon? He wasn't used to feeling this anxious, he'd adopted a suave personality for Panem to gobble up that had become nearly effortless, but now he wanted desperately for you to ignore that and just be perfect.

The gift he had for you weighed heavy in the pocket of his shorts. He wanted to give it to you, he hoped you'd like it because he really wanted to see that smile that he'd daydreamed about again. He checked his watch, 13 minutes, and the worry was still there. Would you be scared off if you looked outside to see him waiting so early or would you find it sweet? What if you were inside anxiously waiting for him because you doubted it was real, because you wanted it to be genuine, and he reasoned from what he did know it was probably the correct assumption. You were too full of self-doubt, of an unspoken want to be seen, to be realized, and he wanted nothing more than to really comprehend each intricate detail that made you, you. 

‘Fuck it,’ He told himself when he made his way up the cracked cement, the grass and weeds peeking through. All the way up the two steps on your crickety porch, light blue paint peeling away to reveal the rotting chunks of wood. Slowly he tapped his knuckles on the wooden door, hoping the knocks didn't seem aggressive, but were enough to gain attention. Since when had he worried about the way his knocks were perceived? Only to gain a chance to perceive you.

The door creaked open and there you were, glowing in another beautiful sundress. “Hi!” Your smile was enough to wash away most of his anxieties even if your own voice seemed riddled with them, he despised the fact you felt anything less than sure of yourself, then sure of his interest in you. 

“Good morning, angel." Morning? Afternoon? Did he care which one was more accurate, did you? Finnick pulled on his dazzling smile, feeling like he was swept up by you.

He pulled the bouquet up, "Um, I got these for you.” You stared at them for what felt like an eternity and made him blush, scared he'd misread something,"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just-”

"They’re for me?” Features so soft it made his heart want to melt already, even the smile was so sweet and fond.

“Yeah, they're for you. These ones just reminded me of you." He wasn't about to say he'd spent hours at Mags this morning trying to pick the perfect flowers from her garden that he thought you would not only adore, but that gave off your very essence.

“They're perfect." You said in a soft amazement,"Really perfect.” Your fingers brush through them before you're ever so gently taking them from him,"Thank you.” 

Flowers were definitely a win, something that could rely on for you to adore. “Of course, sweet girl." You smiled as you smelled the flowers and he concluded that you didn't get many gifts, even one's as easy as that. He'd plant garden after garden to keep you smiling like that. You shut the door and it clicked behind you as you stepped towards him, porch creaking.

“Really, thank you, Finnick." To his surprise you hugged him and how cold you were was almost as shocking, you had such a warm, inviting aura that it was hard to imagine the icincess of your skin. Yet he melted into it, he'd always been so warm that it was nice to have something to contradict that, like when he went for his early morning swim. You smelled the peaches and the ocean, it was delightful and an aroma he'd always want to remember. He longed for your touch to return the moment you pulled away and suddenly he was just hot again. He must have stood there staring and longing for a while because your melodic voice stopped this, “So, are we planning on standing here all day?”

“No, no sorry!" He shook his head, breaking into a nervous chuckle as he tilted his head to the side. You laughed as you began walking down the rickety steps and he followed. “How was dinner?" Maybe he was jealous, he shouldn't be, there was really no good reason to be, but he was.

You looked at Finnick for a moment, confused, like it hadn't quite processed in your brain. “Oh, yes! It went well!"

“What'd his sisters have for you?" The fond look you gave him for remembering a small moment in a conversation made his heart swell and he swore he'd remember everything about you. 

“We like to try and find the prettiest things in the sand, seashells, sea glass, things like that and we all have little collections from each other. They're sweet."

“You're sweet."

“How would you know that, you don't know me." You said, fingers playing the flowers and trying to keep watch on the ground. The cobblestone was uneven, broken, crumbling apart and very just a tripping hazard.

“As you keep reminding me, it doesn't change the fact that you're sweet. ” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. His free hand slides into his pocket, “Saw something else that reminded me of you." He pulls out a necklace, something a vendor had made of shining seashell fragments and the occasional pearl, but something about it just seemed so much like you.

“Finnick." Your steps halted and he did the same,"I don't need you to buy me things.” 

"I know, I want to buy you things.” The necklace dangled from his fingers, glistening in the rays of sun.

"But I don't have anything for you, so it's not-”

"You don't have to get me anything, I'm just spending time with you and I want to do it. Not because I feel obligated too, but because I like you.” Finnick reassured, this didn't have to be transactional, he just wanted to show you he paid attention, he cared. 

You closed your eyes and sighed before nodding, “Okay."

“Unless you don't like it, in which case you should tell me now for future reference.” 

“No, no, that's not what I mean, I mean I do, I just-"

“Need to get better at accepting gifts?" He finished, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed, “I'm good at accepting gifts!" There was a beat of silence where the two of you both stared at each other, him with his brow still arched quizzically, before the two of you burst into laughter. “Sorry, that's not true."

“I can tell!" When the laughter had somewhat subsided, he took another step towards you, lifting the necklace slightly, “Here, let me help you." He was thankful for another chance to let his fingers ‘accidentally’ brush against the skin of your neck and be cooled by it.

His nimble fingers secured the clasp, "This seems to keep happening to us.” You said, trying not to bristle when his warm hands did in fact make slight contact with yours.

"Maybe I'm just a mastermind.” His voice was so close to your ear as he gave himself an extra second of touch before forcing himself to step back.

"Or maybe you're full of yourself." You turned back around to face him before the two of you continued on the walk.

Finnick shrugged, “Two things can be true."

“Maybe not those two." He felt like a lost puppy dog who'd trail behind you, at your beck and call, every single time you spoke. It was terrifying, bone chilling, to think he'd become infatuated from afar and now it was like he'd been bewitched. As if your aura had its own siren song attached to allure his own in and he'd gladly crash his ship on the rocky shores for you. Yet the fear was combated with the fact that you, the core of you, was closer to the shine of the lighthouse, guiding him to safety. A thin line between destruction and refuge.

Banter has easily continued until he'd finally led you to the beach locked behind the gates of Victors Village, its view was truly breathtaking. He laid out the blanket on the warm sand, picnic basket on top, and you'd already been rid of your sandals. You stood, arms out as the breeze blew through your arms, inhaling the salty air and Finnick would've sworn you were some type of ethereal blessing gifted to the Earth from the ocean itself. Slowly he lifted the lid on the wicker basket, “Here." He said, holding up a peach.

You opened your eyes to look over and he could see the instant surprise on them as you sat down, “Finnick!" You didn't take it from him, just put your hands around it to draw it closer as you smelled it like you weren't sure it was real. “Oh my god!" You exclaimed when you caught a glimpse of the bag of peaches within the basket. 

“Thought it might convince you to not barter the necklace." He chuckled as if he hadn't been certain he'd buy the whole array of peaches to see you smile and hear your laugh, to see the spark in your eyes. 

You paused to touch the necklace, suddenly serious, “I wouldn't do that." Your eyes were so gorgeous, so addictive, so kind. The type of eyes he wanted to gaze into until everything else had faded away. Every piece of art, every sunset, every sunrise, every star’s beauty lessened in comparison. “Finnick Odair, you can't be real." That shining smile had returned and he couldn't help but follow in your footsteps to give one back. “Seriously, you have to tell me what's wrong with you before I become too attached."

Finally you took the peach from his hand to bite into it, “Afraid I can't tell you yet, angel, scared you'd run away on me.” His tone was light enough to be a joke, but deep down he knew he'd never be able to tell you about the things that he felt the most self-loathing for, how self-destructive he could be would be something he'd try to keep you away from.

"Well you've already got me; hook, line, and sinker.” When you smiled and spoke, your nose would scrunch up in what he imagined was the most adorable thing possible. You stopped taking bites and quietly sat on the bed, observing him.

"No need to stare, I'm staying right here.” 

"Oh my god, I could kiss you.” He wasn't even sure if you'd processed the words as you stared at him longer before your brain finally seemed to register what you'd said. The look of shock had barely begun to pass your face when he decided he'd just kiss you instead. Perhaps it was all too fast, a day for him to be tasting the peach on your lips, for his fingers to be on your cold face besides the slight warmth on your cheeks. Whirlwind romances were either tragedy's or a fairytale, so time would have to tell, but maybe it should've been a sign. The ending could be uncertain as it liked, but he was sure your souls were yoked in the first ocean tides to bless the world.

His nostrils filled with the scent of peaches and the salt air you had meshed with how you tasted like the peaches, once again, and vanilla. So calming, like he was being softly rocked in the waters, nothing less than perfect. When he finally pulled away from you all he wanted to do was be enveloped by the taste once again. You looked so flustered and taken aback, it was so precious to him. “I beat you to it, this time." Cocky smirk even if he was slightly breathless.

You nodded at him slowly with your eyes wide, like all thoughts had been taken from your head. Finnick would've said something else if it weren't for the refreshing chill of your hands grabbing his face to pull him in for another kiss. He'd never get sick of peaches when they reminded him so much of you, if he was ever to be away he'd spend his time learning endlessly about them just to feel near. Although it couldn't compare with the way your lips molded to his so easily. Then there were your hands in his hair, something he usually couldn't stand, but when it was your gentle hands he couldn't find it anything but endearing. Eventually you'd pulled away as well, chest heaving, yet it was like you couldn't say a thing. Faces and bodies mere inches from each other as you stared at each other, listening to each other breathe.

Suddenly you were quickly removing yourself from him, running forward in the sand. “Where are you going?" Finnick called after you, somewhat terrified he'd scared you off. But you turned back to him smiling like you hadn't a care in the world.

“Swimming!" You shed yourself of the sundress to be just left in the swimsuit you wore underneath, “Are you coming?" Now it was Finnick's to scramble up, chasing you towards the water.

You must have spent hours swimming, like there was no other world except the now. He'd swim under the water, scaring you when he'd pull at your ankle and you'd fight back by trying to dunk him under the moment he bobbed to the top. This was usually unsuccessful as he'd simply drag you down with him, except when he wanted you to feel like you had succeeded. He'd randomly lift you from the waters and you'd screech for him to put you down and once or twice he'd used it as an excuse to kiss you again. After hours of similar actions the sound of the waves hitting the shore was the only thing that could be heard as you both waded to stay afloat. 

Finnick stared out at the horizon, “I want to take you sailing when I get back."

“When you get back from what?" You asked, looking at him. Suddenly he was flooded with guilt, here he was dragging you along when he couldn't even be fully yours or honest about it. But he wanted to be with you so bad and for now that was all he had to cling onto.

It didn't mean he could look at you when he tried to explain it, so he looked down into the waters, “I'm supposed to leave for the Capitol tomorrow, just Victor related things.” He mumbled, shrugging off the mention.

"Oh, okay.” You didn't sound actually upset, "When will you be back?”

"A week at the most.” He peeked up at you through his eyelashes surprised to see you didn't look upset either, at most a little dejected that you wouldn't see him for so long.

"Well, we better have a killer party then to end all of this off, make sure you don't forget me.” You teased, raising your eyebrows.

"I could never forget about you… but you're not upset?"

You shot him a quizzical look, “Why would I be upset, we all have responsibilities, even if they come with different territory.” You shrugged and nearly fell backwards when he pressed his lips to yours again, steadying your back when you began to fall backwards. You had to be an angel who'd been sent to keep him sane and grace him, but a darker side of him urged him to realize he didn't deserve someone as understanding as you.

“You're so perfect." His arms held you and he looked at you with nothing less than amazement.

“I'm definitely not."

‘You’re perfect for me, we're perfect together,’ Finnick thought as he looked at you, water droplets running down your skin, breathing hard from all the excursions, eyes sparked with their usual twinkle and so many hidden thoughts he wanted to dive into. He accepted the conclusion that the only reason he would be feeling all this so fast would be because you were destined to be, all the stars had aligned for this moment, and the oceans had moved mountains to ensure this lifetime was no different. If you were Eurydice he had been your Orpheus, the Dante to your Beatrice, you would have been the Penelope to his Odysseus, regardless of any fate he knew there was never a life where you'd not been irrevocably bound together. 

             𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were going to be rescued, saved from the Capitol's grasps, and what had brought elation at first was quickly ruined when he learned that he couldn't help rescue you. He wasn't quite yet considered mentally stable enough for it, even if slowly he'd been able to mask it all better. Instead he had to stay in District 13 and do nothing but beg the universe to return you to him. Hadn't there been enough tragedy in your short lives? Hadn't there been enough tragedy in every other ending, in every other life? They should've let him brave death to bring you back, it would've settled him more then the torture of not knowing. Especially since he'd caught every airing you'd had from the Capitol which made him grateful that Katniss had wagered for your immunity. Snow had you begging for ceasefire, showing off outfits to parade, as if there wasn't a textile shortage, and it broke him when you seemed to be getting less sure of questions regarding him, regarding you. Then had been when Peeta announced the planned attack on District 13 and seeing you scream when he was violently attacked for the warning. A scream that would have forced Finnick to be sedated if it weren't for the more impending doom of the bombs. 

Katniss was filming a distraction propo about Peeta, how he'd saved her, loved her from the beginning. It was intimate, but apparently not enough for Plutarch who was calling Finnick over. Or maybe he's thought of something when Katniss mentions Snow's own admission of the Capitol's fragility.

“The Capitol is fragile, Snow is fragile, if we can manage to make a major blow to that, it could take their focus off of the prisoners. Force them to focus on damage control instead." Plutarch explains.

“And you want me to say something that could do that?” Finnick looks down at his rope, you'd never been able to master the butterfly knot, and he can imagine himself going over it again to try and teach you.

“If you have anything worth sharing." Of course everyone knows he does, among the elite, the powerful, the other victors it's just an open secret. “It could help us save her."

"But you don't have to open that up, there's no guarantee it'll do anything.” Haymitch argues, he's been forced into sobriety and has maintained his aggression. 

“I have something, more than one." Finnick finally says once he's completed his knot and Plutarch can't hide how pleased he is with this outcome. Finnick swears he can hear the blood draining from his face and the nausea rising in his stomach as each second passes, but he persists to stand in front of the cameras.

"You don't have to do this.” Haymitch reiterates.

"Yes I do, if it'll help her.” There's no other option, if the only thing that stopped you from being safely brought to District 13 was the lack of a good distraction, he'd find a way to get a longer rope. He undid the knot before balling it tightly in his hand, “I'm ready." Finnick says to the camera crew and he thinks of you. He turns off any physical sign of emotions he may have because he knows if he doesn't it would lead to another damaging spiral.

The cameras click on and he's given the all clear to begin, “President Snow used to… sell me… my body, that is. I wasn't the only one.” Far from it, and Finnick wanted revenge for all of them, for him, for you, for Cashmere, for everyone Snow had forced into his scheme. "If a Victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.” What had happened to Johanna, what he'd been terrified would happen to you when you'd first been together. “I wasn't the only one." He repeats and this time it really is for you, for how much he had to watch it break you. The nightmares, how long it took for you to accept any form of physical contact, how even years after it still affected your own intimacy with each other. They stole it all, your girlhood, most of your spark, whatever they could they ravaged from you like vultures on a corpse. Wasn't the prize of winning supposed to be life? “But I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." Finnick would never have mentioned this to you, but he'd begged Snow to give him more rather than give you any. The President had said you were too popular for none, but had given you less than what you could've had in exchange for even more of Finnick's time, his so-called uses. “To make themselves feel better my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry, but I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets.”

That's why he was such a threat to Snow, he knew too much, he needed to be silenced, but he hadn't and now he could tell all of Panem each one. “And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others.” And prominent name after name spewed off of his tongue. It felt like he was dropping chains off of his body to reveal them to the nation. Each one more heinous than the next, “And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." More names, victims of Snow's climb to power, the elite he trampled so he could trample the weak. Suddenly he's on fire, Finnick can't stop thinking about all the pain it caused you, about how it ruined his own childhood and life, how Johanna lost everyone she loved, how Cashmere worked so hard to protect her brother only for them both to be dead and he's so very detailed. Ensuring that it can't be swept under the rug and it's so harrowing that no one cuts the camera even when he's stopped speaking. There's too much shock, too much intensity, "Cut.” Finnick eventually intervenes.

Finally the stupor is over and people rush to air the footage, Plutarch is making endless comments that Finnick can't comprehend when he's so lost in his own head. Auto-pilot took control for most of the day, he tied knots until his fingers bled. You would've scolded him and bandaged them up, insisting it's why you didn't care for them even if you loved pouting for him to help you just so he could be so close by. Then he's got his arms wrapped around his knees, the day has been too slow, what if you were dead and he'd have no idea until they arrived and he would be at peak hope.

“Did you love her right away, Finnick?" Katniss' voice finally pulls him away from the endless myriad of thoughts.

“Not for the years when I knew of her and then I don't know what changed. She was just so herself in every way and I knew I wanted to just speak with her at least, but once I had a taste of it, yes. Like I'd been knocked over by a wave with it. For a while she didn't understand, but I didn't either, I just knew that there was no else for me." He feels like he's tearing up again when Haymitch rushes into the room.

“They're back. We’re wanted in the hospital. That's all I know." But Finnick feels like he can't move, he realizes he's scared of what you'll be like now. The Capitol had taken the you with her free-spirit and love of being in the moment and made her hate that she was able to breathe oxygen, which he'd so diligently worked to prove you were worthy of. Now they'd had you again, a version that was already hurt, untrusting, and self-destructive, and he couldn't imagine what they could have done to you now. Katniss is softly grabbing his hand to guide him upwards and he feels robotic. She guides him through the winding, gray hallways to the hospital wing. It's not until he can hear your screams that his brain clicks back into action. He has a responsibility to you, one of care, of love, of support in your weakest moments.

He's screaming your name as he runs from Katniss, searching for you desperately. Then he spots you on a hospital bed, pushing off the doctors trying to take care of you. Finnick needs to just be there with his soft words, let you know they're trying to help, so you'll stop. But that's not what happens when you hear his voice or see him. “Angel!" Your panicked screams become more shrill when you see him and in his confusion he steps closer, “It's just me." His voice is more broken then he wanted it to sound, more dejected.

“Get him away from me!" You're frenzied, scrambling to get out of the hospital bed or as far away in it as you can. The doctors are trying to reassure you as you scratch, and kick, and hit, and scream, begging for them to keep you safe from him. He feels the doctors trying to lead him away, hears Johanna laughing harshly in the background noise, but he's frozen. Your head is banging on the metal back of the bed which rattles. “Please, please.” You're sobbing and they're staying to sedate you, "He wants me dead, you don't get it, he's gonna kill me.” 

And Finnick is once again determined to get hands on a much longer rope. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you so, so much for reading I am so sorry this took me so long! I hope you enjoyed it and as always feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated. my ask box is always open and currently so are requests which I'm working through! love you all and thank you again 💋

taglist: @coriolanussnowswife @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @thatonegayloser616 @libertyybellls @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @ravensinthedaylight @innercreationflower @uhnanix @aesthetic0cherryblossom @yourdailymemedelivery @ang3lflor @maxinehufflepuffprincess @prettybiching @miserablebl00d @wowzabowza69 @nomorespahgetti @problematicpastries @abaker74 @nj01 @whens-naptime @sarcasticbooknerd12 @cakes-hq @honethatty12 @s1lngwns @alliex-o

[seventhcallisto]

LOVE ON SKIN

c.seungcheol. idol!boyfriend!cheol. Idol!f!reader. Mdni. soft smut. unprotected. Part of I-dol

Although the two of you have been inseparable for years, an accident that leaves you bed-bound for almost a month wounds up weighing on cheols consciousness when you two begin talking about it. Which leads to a night of confessions and soft touches.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You can't keep your hands to yourself. He can't, either. You've been on him as soon as you could be on stage - actually, he's been on you. Walking you across the stage and lending a helping hand if you seem to struggle with your balance.

You hate it. You should hate being helped and feeling like a weak girl. But it's cheol. You love cheol too much to feel upset about how his soft hands caress your elbow and guiding your hip in the right direction. Even when it could possibly get you two in trouble. He's going out of his way to help you in all the proper places, as politely as he can. Despite when you tell him you can do it yourself, stubbornly, he's still by your side.

Being the second eldest in the group takes it tolls on your health, but it seem cheol can stomach it all, can have all of it weigh on his back without flinching. You admire him for it, you always have. You love the leader, you love him so much it hurts to see the painful way he look in your eyes when you hiss in discomfort.

You tried to pretend the way your hip shifts on the bed doesn't hurt. That the performance didn't take its toll on you. You said you were fine, that you could do it. And maybe, yeah, you're equally as stubborn as cheol, but it's because you miss it. Miss performing. Miss the stage. Miss the fans. Miss your group. Miss your boyfriend.

"Baby, let me help" seungcheol softly reaches for your ankle, bending down on his knee to pull your shoes off. You thank him with quiet words, still attempting to lift your leg yourself to help. Cheol clicks his tongue, on the verge of chastising you for moving. He decides against it with a sigh.

"Do you remember when we were trainees, how we'd have to share our food?" You quietly talk, and like always, cheol hums to tell you he's listening, even as he focuses on untying your stubborn shoes.

"We went hungry most of the time cause of the diets" you continue, quietly. "I should of- I dunno, snuck some food. Maybe my bones wouldn't be as breakable as they were- as they are now." you chuckle as if its an inside joke. To kill the tension. Your hands fiddling in your lap. Cheol pauses for a second, head tilting up.

His lips curve into frown, his hands softly encasing your ankles, he rubs soothingly, helping your aching body. "Don't blame yourself." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow in worry. "I-. It's just-" he cuts you off. "It wouldn't have happened at all if someone had double checked the safety."

he takes a harsh breath in, tossing your shoes to the side, his palms run over his jeans on his knees. "It looked worse than it was, but.." cheol glances to your hip, theres pain and guilt in his eyes as he stares. "It doesn't matter, atleast you're okay now." He adverts his eyes, pushing himself to stand up.

"Cheol?" Your hand on his wrist has him pausing, a short glance over his shoulder. He stills in your sight, eyes tired from working all day. Tired from the pain he sees you in. You knaw on your bottom lip.

"I'm sorry it was you who found me" your lip trembles, finally able to voice what you really wanted to. To get him to not feel guilty for your own doing. "I'm the one who stepped on the platform, and i- I'm the one who should have been careful" your voice cracks. You always took practice way too seriously, always checking the aquitment and helping where you were needed.

Like some type of guinea pig, you hung out on platforms and tall stages, as if you'd never get hurt. So when you told cheol you'll be testing things out for fun, he advised you not too. Like he had always done. But he really couldn't control you. No one could. When you stepped up and signaled for the crew to start lifting the stage, just as you were halfway- the tiniest thing- completely snapped, sending you flying forward into the stage beneath you. Almost two stories high.

You were fragile, sadly, from the amount of overworking you've done for years and the dieting you kept up with. So there wasn't much to cushion your fall except skin and bones. The first person you saw when you faded back into consciousness was no other than seungcheol. Stage lights around him like a halo when he called your name in a panic, fear lingering every part of his body, of his soul.

You could see it seep from his bones and consume him, just as he way pulled away to give you some space. No other figures face made sense, no matter how hard you tried. You could only see cheol.

"What?" Seungcheol wheezes out, his heavy eyebrows setting into an upset churn on his handsome face. "Y/n. Don't say that. Please don't say that." He bends down to take the seat next to you, careful of dipping the bed down too much.

"Don't say that ever. If i- if I wasn't there. It could have been worse" he trembles in your gasp, pulling your hand into his palm. "I told the crew to take the scale slow, I know- I knew you loved the heights and rising on the stage, you told me that before, remember?" You nod, soundless under his gaze.

"If I hadn't told them to take it slow, you'd be worse.. you could be dead." he shakes his head. "I don't want you to feel like you have to owe me, I just wanted to tell you. I love you, i don't want to see you like that. like this. ever again. I don't want to think about loosing you." Cheols head falls on your interlocked hands as he attempts to regain his breath. You lean your head onto his shoulder over his grey hoode, just to feel closer to him.

You haven't had time together at all, with awkward glances and silence ringing throughout every interaction. It was starting to feel like you did die from the grief drowning under cheols fingertips and trembling breathing whenever he would hold you. Too delicate. As if you were already a ghost.

His hands holding your own are firm, yet still trembling with unease. His whole body shakes with it. Only ever in your presence have you seen cheol shake like this. "Will you hold me? Please?" Quietly, You whisper. And he heads your call. His strong arms wrapping to interlock around your ribs, his hands flush against your clothed back when he pushes your head into his neck.

His palms smooth over you. Telling himself you're there, that you're alive and in his arms, telling you he's there. His head falls over your own, his chin bumping against your head when he gulps. You wrap yourself around him, cling more like. Getting as close to him as you can from the angle. "I love you, cheol" You remind him with a sorrowful mumble. "I'm not going anywhere."

Cheol pulls his head down to plant a heartfelt kiss on your lips, slow and consuming as he leans heavily into it. His lips are plump from moisturizer, his palms are heavy against your cheeks when he pulls you closer. Swallowing your quiet gasps with his own breathy sighs. Your hand skims over his sweatpants, reaching for the drawstring.

You're too eager to have cheol in you. You haven't touched in weeks. You could hardly care for foreplay, you miss being close to him.

He pushes your hand aside to strip his hoodie and shirt off in one go, leaning over your body so you're pressed into the mattress under him. "How're you feeling baby?" it's the cue to explain to him what you want exactly. When you both are too tired to tease each other. You wiggle when he presses his hot mouth against your neck, trailing kisses down your skin.

"Just want you cheol, need you inside me, no prep, no foreplay" you demand with prying hands, clawing your way under your own shirt to paw it off. He helps you along, gentle compared to your own hands. And when it's finally off, he stops and stares. Ears pink but that sorrowful look on his face again.

You're littered in bruises, deep and purple and contrasting against your skin, no matter what shade you are, there is no hiding how the bruises affect your body. Staining your skin in splotches, from around your waist, to your arms, along your shoulder, and your elbows, everywhere. The ones on your arms are clearing up, but the deeper ones on your lower body are evidence of a terrible trauma to your blood vessels.

The cogs move in cheols head, he kisses what he can, the bruises on your shoulder, on your hips, on your elbows. The worse of them all being on your ribs, his lips leave a delicate trail to not irritate your skin with pressure, his eyes pulled closed as he soaks your warmth in. His heavy hands caress over your neglected breasts, paying the nubs attention with a swipe of his thumb.

You sigh against his every touch, missing the way he feels against you. His lower abdomen above your own, with just a swoop of your leg, your pulling the rest of him down onto you.

Seungcheol stops his quick decent with his arms caging against your head. His eyebrows furrow, coming face to face with you now. "Inside please" you remind him again, a desperate tone to your voice. The beautiful and absolutely breathtaking man blinks down at you, eyes growing shy with a smile.

His hand trails down, pulling your hips to straddle his, adjusting comfortably when he pulls the rest of your clothes off. He slips out of his just as eagerly, only gone for a second before he's hoisting you up the bed quickly and gently.

His tip prods your entrance after a couple of swipes through your folds, slicking himself up with your own juices and his precum. He groans quietly, mouth falling slack from the feeling.

You always forget he's big, always forget you need atleast some type of prep beforehand. Your eyes stutter shut and thighs squeeze around his hips when he attempts to push the head of his cock in. "Baby- y/n- s'not gonna fit baby" he hisses, prodding himself through the tight band of your cunt.

You groan at the stretch. He stills abruptly, your eyes widen open, watching cheols concerned face beckon you to speak. "Don't stop! Please, keep going cheolie" you whimper, grabbing for his shoulder to bring him back over you again.

He bites into your shoulder to keep from just humping himself into you, he pushes as much as he can, as slowly as he can. Listening for your uncomfortable cues. You're so hot and warm and cheol hasn't touched himself in weeks, too caught up in stress.

Cheols fingers pinch your clit between the digits, circling them with your bud in the middle. You moan quietly, the feeling almost forgotten. "loosen up baby" he coos into your ear, sighing against your skin as he fits another inch in. "There you go, Just like that, just needs a little tlc huh?" he chuckles against your skin, groaning softly when he rocks his hips forward to slip into you some more.

Your slick pools around his length from his words, guiding him in easier. He sinks in with slow grinds, his hips stuttering every once in a while. You whimper at the sting, it leaves tingles down your spine. "Missed you so much cheol" you whimper with a moan "needed you so bad" he hums against your skin. Lingered kisses against your throat when he pulls your thigh to meet his own hip, trying to pull you onto him further.

"I know baby, needed you just as much, promise" he bottoms out with one last grind of his hips forward. You sputter, jaw falling away. He knocks the breath out of you in the best way. "Oh fuck" he swallows his grunts with his mouth against your sweaty skin.

With only a few seconds of adjusting, you're clenching around him wildly. His hips grind against yours smoothly with small jolts. Everytime he bumps your clit, you moan. It encourages him on, gentle compared to how he usually is when you two have sex.

The sweetness of passionate sex in the late night in your hotel room has your mind foggy, as if you're dreaming, the only light to cast any type of glow is the one on the bedside table, it blurs and bumps with every thrust from seungcheol, his breathing grounding you to the moment with him. His hips working the magic, the only guy who could make you unravel within a couple of minutes.

The sweetest torture is his pace, it's enough to have you peaking, lifting your own hips to meet his as you feel yourself grind closer to that aching high you haven't had in forever. Cheols hands push you back down by your thighs, his head lifting up from your shoulder to watch the way you suck him in. His breath fans against your chest.

Quiet groans of approval fall off his tongue, and suddenly he's pistoning at the new angle he moved his hips. You quiver, hips trying to lift from the bed. "There cheol! Right there- 'm gonna cum" you let go with a whimper, thighs shaking in seungcheols grasp, your eyes clenching closed.

The dark haired guy curses under his breath, hips griding to push you further and further, to reach his high with you as soon as he can. He bottoms out completely before spilling along your walls and womb, digging his head back into your neck along with shuddered gasps.

His thrusts are sloppy, finishing himself off with a few extra ruts of his hips, his base growing a string of mixtures that leaves him sticky, he stills when you begin to press your palm to his hip. Overstimulated with his movements. He presses soft kisses to your temple, breathing in the scent of your sweaty skin.

Seungcheols skin is dewy with a shine in the dim light, his hair is only the slightest bit damp. His stamina is amazing, libido just as much. But you know it took everything in cheol to cum with you no matter how overstimulated he's left you from hours in the night. You always come first, in every way possible to him. He's told you before.

His lashes softly caress your delicate neck, his body sinking half on you and half on the bed in the afterglow. You pepper his shoulder with soft pecks, hand rubbing along his bicep as you take heavy breaths into your lungs.

He shuffles to pull out, kissing your belly before he does so. He slips out without much tension, palming your knee comfortably as he goes.

He picks himself up to grab you both a towel from the bathroom around the corner, you watch him slip his sweats back on. He's gentle, different this time, like he knows he can't break you, but he knows you still hurt easily.

You mumble a thank you when he pulls himself over you, shuffling you into his large shirt. He kisses you softly. "You're my favorite person in the world" you mumble sleepily, hand threading through his hair. He hums against your skin, draping you over his side.

"Yeah?" He chuckles, smile pulling wide on his cheeks. "And you're mine."

[wauzmons]

We have been Betrayed, Backstabbed, Bamboozled: The Future of Elysian Eclipse

So, if you are active on our Discord, you know that EE is made in the Unity Engine and the CEO just decided to massively fuck over all the devs who are using it...

Callum Upton made a great video explaining the situation:

But it gets even worse!

Unity since defended themselves, saying that these fees are only affecting 10% of their customers, because of the $200k and $1m thresholds, so Indie devs don't have to worry about that.

…which isn't true:

Unity Plus

They aren't only introducing these fees but also changed the regular pricing plans! They just removed "Unity Plus" which is the lowest tier and costs about $50/month per dev with taxes. This is what most indies use. The next higher tier costs QUADROUPLE that amount and is also required to remove the universally loathed "made with Unity" splash screen. Oh! And if you have the personal tier, you won't be able to use Unity offline anymore! It now needs to do a license check every 3 days to function!

Unity's Ad Service

The fees will hit devs that do free-to-play mobile stuff especially hard, since they still have to pay the fees even when the players don't buy anything, meaning they could end up owing Unity more than they make in income. But what's this? If you use Unity's advertising service for your game, you will get a discount on the fees! The majority of mobile games run on Unity, meaning they are trying to monopolize the mobile ad market with this!

Publishers

Elysian Eclipse has caught the interest of a really big studio and publisher, who is considering to handle the marketing and publishing for the game. They are obviously planning to make the game come out big with sales, going beyond Unity's thresholds. But since the game is made in Unity, they probably now have to reconsider that carefully, since that would cause a massive amount of fees with Unity's new pricing model. So any game using Unity is now an instant turn-off for publishers, also massively hurting indie devs who don't reach that income threshold yet.

What will happen now?

So, Unity can't be trusted anymore and should be seen as a major threat to us and the gaming industry. Even if they walk back on some of these decisions, what has been said, has been said. They showed that they don't care about destroying thousands of games, as long as it nets them profit, so who knows what they are going to do next?

I will pause the development of Elysian Eclipse and release the Patreon demo, including all the prototypes like Aquatic Stage for free today. I canceled my subscription and it will run out next year, so Unity isn't getting a single cent from my games anymore.

Unreal Eclipse?

In the meantime I'll focus on improving my C++ skills, so I can work more effectively in Unreal Engine 5. Unreal is the current industry leader, offering much better solutions for graphics and performance for 3D games. It is also partially open source and completely free until you reach $1 million in revenue.

It is unlikely that I will be able to just translate the game from C# to C++ and port it over, since it is using a lot of engine-specific features. This basically means, we will start from scratch... I can't tell yet how much work this will be or in what ways the game will change.

But one thing, you can always be certain of: I will NEVER BETRAY MY DREAM. I will finish this project, no matter who or what stands in my way. I hope you will continue to support me on this journey.

That being said,

FUCK JOHN RICCITIELLO!!

Fucking cunt.

[collapsedglasshouses]

PLEASE SHUT UP || Nick Ruffilo x fem!Reader [Part Two]

READ PART ONE HERE.

PICTURE FOUND ON PINTEREST

SUMMARY: This is based on a request by @yumikitten (you can read the request in part one if you want to c: )

WARNINGS: SMUT [oral sex, female receiving; fingering], MDNI, angst, fluff, nick being an asshole, enemies to lovers, ...

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @thatchickwiththecamera @cookiesupplier @jilliemiw86

A/N: Hey! I hope you're all doing well! Here's Part 2! I think I don't have much to say today. So enjoy and consider reblogging, if you liked it. (also its not really proof read im sorry) Thank youuu!

The past few days had been more than tough. Nick and Y/n were avoiding each other so much that they didn't even acknowledge one another anymore. The other guys in the group were beyond frustrated. Every sound check became a gloomy affair, with everyone in a bad mood. The frustration reached a point where the boys couldn't take it anymore, and they started making snarky comments to Nick and her.

Currently, they all sat together on the living room couch during their days off from the tour, which only made things worse since they were still living together. While the rest of the group chatted, Y/n and Nick remained silent. Normally, Y/n would have retreated to her room, but Noah insisted she should stay in the living room. He had had a sincere conversation with her about how the situation couldn't continue like this and that Nick and her needed to resolve whatever was going on between them.

The problem was Y/n had no clue what was going on in Nick's mind. She couldn't stop replaying the moment he kissed her and how she didn't immediately put a stop to it. Her thoughts were a mess, making it impossible for her to focus on anything. Despite managing not to make another mistake during their performances, everything else was chaotic, especially Nick's confusing behavior.

As Y/n took a sip from her water bottle, her attention involuntarily returned to Nick. He was looking at her, but as soon as she noticed, he averted his gaze. Y/n felt like she was about to burst. She endured the tension for another twenty minutes before sighing and deciding to call it a night.

She paid no attention to the look Noah shot her. She had reached her limit and just wanted some time alone.

“Good night, guys.” She mumbled to the boys and didn’t even wait for their responses, before she stood up and dragged herself up the stairs and straight into the bathroom. She quickly began her evening routine. She brushed her teeth and washed her face before looking in the mirror. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days, which was in fact true. There wasn’t a night, where she hadn’t been lying in bed, thinking about the chaotic situation she was currently in.

She sighed before looking at the laundry rack, in hopes to find a shirt she could sleep in but when she didn’t see one of her own, she just mindlessly grabbed one of the shirts hanging there and decided to wear it, like she always did. Right as she was finished changing, she turned to the door and jump in fear.

Nick was standing in the door frame, looking at her with an intense gaze.

“What the hell are you doing?” She exclaimed in surprised and hugged herself, wondering how long he had been standing there.

“Just… wanted to brush my teeth.” He mumbled. Y/n realized how this had been the first couple of words the two had exchanged since their fight. For a second, she looked at him, standing in front of the sink. He looked just as exhausted than her; strands of his messy bun falling onto his shoulders.

Y/n took a deep breath before walking to the door, but right before she left, she began to hesitate. She again looked at her former friend, her mind racing as fast as it gets.

Nick noticed her gaze while brushing his teeth, so he looked at her through the mirror. Even though every look he shot at her was kind of painful now, he tried to hold her gaze. His eyebrows shot up, wondering why she hadn’t already left, while Y/n was struggling with herself.

“Can-…” She began. “Can we talk?”

She knew she wasn't the one who should have taken the initiative, but she had Noah's voice in her head the whole time, telling her it couldn't go on like this. She knew that too. She didn't want to go on like this either.

Nick took the toothbrush out of his mouth, a brief uncertainty crossing his face. There was a momentary hesitation in his expression, as if he weighted his options before answering. His eyes flickered for a moment, before he slowly began to nod. After that he washed out his mouth. “Not here though…”

Now Y/n nodded, almost crumbling under the tension that danced between the two.

They quietly walked into Y/n’s room, trying not to catch the attention of anyone downstairs and quickly found themselves sitting on her bed. After that silence came over them again.

The room felt suffocating, the unresolved tension between the two creating a invisible barrier between the them. As they sat on the edge of the bed, the silence became more and more unbearable, each passing seconds underlining the weight of the words that seemingly wouldn’t come out.

Y/n’s gaze lingered on Nick, her eyes mirroring a mixture of frustration and longing. She couldn’t shake off the memories of that unexpected kiss and it echoed in her mind like a constant reminder of the cruel nothingness between them.

Nick shifted uncomfortably, his eyes avoiding hers. The guilt of his impulsive actions weighed heavily on him, and he felt the need to explain what was going on, but he seemingly couldn’t bring a word out.

“You know… I’m not good with words.” Nick mumbled quietly.

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t have noticed without you saying that.” Y/n answered him just as quietly.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to find the right words.

“We can’t keep going on like this.” Y/n admitted, her voice almost breaking while speaking out her thoughts. “We used to be so close and now it feels like we’re literal enemies living under the same roof.”

Nick sighed; his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know," he responded, the weariness evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know how to fix this."

Y/n nodded, taking in the first nice words Nick has said to her in the last months. "Neither do I," she admitted, her eyes meeting his. "But we can't keep going on like this. It's affecting everyone, not just us."

For a moment, they locked eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. The weight of the unsaid words hung in the air, but there was a mutual recognition that something needed to change.

Silence set over them again. Y/n felt like she was going to have a heart attack. Before she could even think, the words came out of her. “I can’t stop thinking about the kiss. It keeps haunting me.”

Nick's eyes softened as he listened, realizing the impact of his actions. "I didn't mean to complicate things," he admitted. "I just... I don't know what came over me."

Ignoring his statement, Y/n finally got the question out she wanted to ask him so desperately. “What did I do to you to make you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, Y/n.” – “Then why do you keep acting so mean towards me?”

Nick sighed, again, not knowing what to say to her. Her presence made him slowly go crazy.

Y/n swallowed hard, turning to him. “I’m willing to move past this, if you finally tell me what I did wrong, Nick.”

“You did nothing wrong.” He mumbled, trying to avoid her gaze but seemingly unable to look away. God, he loved looking at her, but it was his own fault that he wasn’t able to do so anymore. Just because he was childish enough to think everything would magically go back to normal. “I don’t know why I’m being an asshole to you.”

“See, this is where you’re lying.” – “What do you mean?” – “You know exactly why you’re doing this.”

Nick sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

“I-…” Nick started but hesitated. When he saw Y/n shout him a reassuring gaze, he started again. “I just don’t want to ruin our friendship entirely.”

“I think you already did that, Nick.” She coldly answered him, while her insides were turning upside down. She wanted to hate him for everything he did, but every time she tried, something kept pulling her back to the vision of them being as close as they used to. Even closer.

Nick reached for Y/n’s hand and took it into his own. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I’m really sorry what I did to you.”

“Why, Nick? Just tell me why?” She asked him, desperation laced over her gaze.

“You know what? Sometimes it is hard to look at you.” Nick blurted out, not exactly sure if she would get what he was trying to say.

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked confused, hurt written all over the face.

Nick sighed in frustration. “You know, this is exactly what I mean. I’m not good with words and I’m a fucking idiot. How am I supposed to tell you how much I love you when I’m not even able to confront these feelings myself?”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “You what?”

Nick felt his heart sank in his chest. He realized his mistake the second it slipped out. He started to panic. His mind was racing. How the fuck should he go on from that.

“What did you just say?” Y/n whispered to him, her heart almost jumping out of her chest. Everything was tingling. She didn’t even know how badly she needed to hear Nick’s words. How badly she wanted him to tell her he didn’t hate her. But hearing those words slip out of his mouth, almost let her fall to her knees.

Nick’s mouth was slightly opened, when Y/n scooted closer to him. He felt like he was going to explode. Never in his entire life he had allowed himself to be this vulnerable to anyone. Not even Noah.

Y/n was so close to him, he could almost feel her breath on his face.

“Say it again, Nick.” She pleaded with him, her knees touching his.

“I love you, Y/n… And I tried to distance myself and didn’t notice how cruel I became until it was too late.” He whispered and noticed how his eyes flickered to her lips for a second.

Y/n was going to burst into a million little pieces. Nick loved her.

Without even thinking, she sat on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck, while his hands held her firmly by her hips.

“Say it again.” She begged again, while leaning closer to him.

“I fucking love you, Y/n.” He breathed against her lips and with that Y/n leaned in and without another word, their lips met in a tender kiss. Y/n couldn’t help but sigh. It felt like every ounce of doubt left her body when she felt his lips press against hers again. She craved him. She wanted him to be good to her so bad.

When Y/n slightly grinded on his lap, his grip on her hips became tighter and she swore she heard a soft tone escape his lips. Even though they both felt like they were going to suffocate any minute, neither of them dared to pull away.

Nick’s hands squeezed her waist softly while he licked her bottom lip, asking for entrance that she granted. Their tongues danced in a slow and passionate way. He bit her lip, causing her to moan softly. Y/n’s hands roamed into his hair, tugging on it gently.

When they finally pulled away, it wasn’t for long. For a short second they stared into each other’s eyes, both filled with lust and desperation.

Almost immediately Nick sank his head and kissed down her neck, causing Y/n to breathe heavily. Everything tingled. She couldn’t form a straight thought. All she could think about was Nick and how he told her he loved her.

She felt him smile against her skin as he sucked the flesh on her neck until he left a mark. He needed to make sure to never let go of her again.

“Did you notice you grabbed my shirt from the rack?” He whispered against her skin, making her shift a bit to look down on herself. She shook her head, to flustered to form words.

“I like it on you.” He whispered and peppered small kisses on her cheeks. “But I think I’ll like it even better on the floor.”

Nick didn’t need to tell Y/n twice and with a swift motion she pulled the shirt over her head. Nick almost moaned at the sight of her naked body. He couldn’t believe she was sitting on him, only wearing her panties. He was rock hard. This was literal dream material to him.

“You are so so beautiful.” He whispered while caressing her breasts. Y/n took a shaky breath when his lips travelled from her neck to her collarbone and eventually to her breasts; slightly biting on her nipples. Y/n felt like this was a dream. It couldn’t be real. Not even a day ago, they couldn’t even look at each other and now she wanted nothing else but to feel him.

Her hands landed on his long hair again. God, did she love his hair.

“Gosh, Nick.” She moaned out, causing Nick to cover her mouth with one of his hands.

“We don’t want the others to hear us, do we?” He mumbled, looking her directly into her eyes. She slowly nodded. “Good. Be good for me, alright?”

She nodded again, feeling heat shoot to her core.

With a swift motion, he laid her on her bed, not letting go of her. His kisses started to travel down her stomach. When he arrived at her hip bone, he looked up at her again. “Is that okay?”

Y/n nodded.

“Use your words, Y/n. I need to be sure this is okay.”

“Gosh, Nick. Yes. Please.” She whined, wiggling with anticipation under his grip.

Nick laughed sweetly, before pulling down her underwear. Then the kisses began again. She felt like her skin was burning as Nick kissed along her hip bone before slowly moving down to her thighs. He was now fully kneeing in front of the bed, getting a perfect view of her wet folds.

He peppered soft kisses along her thighs and here and there she felt him sucking on her skin, making sure to leave marks that he could admire later. Y/n felt how she slowly grew impatient, whining and wiggling in his grip, but Nick didn’t let that happen. He was going to take his time with her.

His hands travelled to her hips, holding her steady against the mattress as his tongue licked its way to her core. He only let go of her with one hand, to let his fingers feather over her folds for a second. Right as Y/n was about to protest again, he attached his mouth to her clit.

Y/n quickly covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the piercing moan that threatened to escape her throat. It felt so good, she was sure she wasn’t going to last long but she was so concentrated on not alert her other friends downstairs that she didn’t dare to speak up.

When she felt surer, she wouldn’t just full-on scream, she whined out. “Nick… Fuck. It feels so fucking good.” Y/n didn’t even realize how bad she had needed Nick to touch her. It felt like he was made to be between her legs.

Nick moaned against her core because of her statement. The vibrations of his voice made her thighs tremble.

Right when Y/n felt like it couldn’t get any better, he slowly inserted his fingers into her. She gripped the bedsheets so hard, she feared she would rip them.

She wasn’t even able to tell him how close she was when the waves of her orgasm already started to wash over her. She bit her lip so hard while shaking uncontrollable under his touch, trying to contain her moans.

She felt how his hand drew small circles on her hips, while he slowly pulled his fingers out of her. She looked at him, still not able to control her breathing, just in time to see how he licked his fingers clean of her arousal.

She leaned up on her elbows and shortly after, Nick and her lips met in a sweet kiss. She could taste herself on him and felt like she was going to crumble again. She couldn’t really process the events evolving in front of her, but she knew she wanted to stay like this forever.

This was when she noticed Nick’s hard cock against her naked thigh. While still kissing him, one of her hands started to travel down his body but before she could even reach his hardened member, he grabbed her wrist softly.

“I wanna help you, Nick.” She nearly whined out, desperate to get even closer to him, but Nick shook his head. “No, Y/n. This, right here, is all about you.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead. “I have to make up for the bullshit I fabricated over the last couple of months.”

Y/n looked into his blue eyes that she had been admiring since the second she had laid eyes on him. She felt how her heart warmed at the sight of him. He was looking at her like he used to, but now she could grasp what the emotions were behind his eyes. He admired her with such a deep love in his eyes, she felt like she was going to collapse.

This was when she noticed something.

“Nick?” – “Yeah?” – “I didn’t say it back.” – “You didn’t have to.”

With that he kissed her again, all their emotions flowing between them. She caressed his cheek for a second, before he pulled away again. His pupils were dilated again. “Now… Let me show you just how sorry I am.”

Y/n knew she wasn’t going to sleep much that night…

[theninthdoor]

Hi! I know you did this a while back but I wonder if the rankings have changed? : Based on tarot which kpop group would you say is the closest? Out of aespa, Le sserafim, itzy, Ive, nwjns, gidle, stay c

aespa || the hanged man rx: I feel like they go through waves of being really close vs giving each other some space. It's all pretty natural, and depends on their schedules, interests at the moment, what they're going through in their personal lives, etc.

LE SSERAFIM || ace of pentacles, king of wands rx: They are actually pretty close, I believe - at least right now. With the KoW rx coming out as the clarifier, I think this might have something to do with their recent experiences + challenges as a group. Previously they might've been a little more distant and out-of-sync, and because that started to affect their group's performance so strongly and visibly, the members must've now decided to make an effort to become closer to one another.

Itzy || six of cups rx: This is very similar to aespa's situation! - they go through waves.

IVE || the devil rx: This honestly reads as them choosing not to be too close right now in order to keep the peace. There are a couple of unresolved issues with them that only seem to get worse when they spend too much time together, or allow themselves to become too vulnerable with/around one another. The girls themselves, I think, need to do some personal growth, and only then can they function better as a group (personally, specially).

(G)I-dle || nine of pentacles: To me this feels very much like "old friends who tell each other everything, but can go weeks or months without talking", you know? It's a low maintance type of partnership/friendship, but still close and strong.

NewJeans || ace of swords, the magician rx: Not all members are close (personally), but still, the group as a whole is very much in sync and they all understand each other perfectly. It's funny because I actually feel like they have chosen to keep some distance between themselves outside of schedules? Like, it reads as a "never mix business with pleasure" type of thing; "keep your professional lives and personal lives separate".

StayC || knight of wands rx: I think some members have built pretty strong friendships here, and the whole group is close to a certain degree. However, I don't really see them considering themselves "close friends", for some reason.

(Disclaimer: All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only. Based on current energies.)

[sanderssidesthehouse]

Remus is my favorite side and I am collecting people's opinions about him. For the bingo?

-Birch

Hiya, Birch! Consider my opinion collected!

Circle size represents how much I resonate with or feel confidently about an answer.

Going to address the not liking him as a person (vs adoring him as a character) before I go any further. Just like, if I knew a person who acted like him irl (which would probably be a neglected 13 y/o) I wouldn't really like them. Wouldn't necessarily hold it against them, but understanding someone and/or wanting to help someone is not the same as liking them. Sides aren't exactly comparable to people, though.

I think about Remus so frequently. My absolute favorite we've seen of him was WTIT. It definitely gave us more to work with, particularly with how much he hates being ignored. Bc like, yeah he's a side and he needs to be able to do his function, but his function and subsequently himself have been repressed which has warped everything and tbh I'd act like that too.

I NEED him and Roman to work together bc wtf. I need them both to be mad bc like we're going to have to address at some point why there are two sides that manage Creativity? Um? But skipping past that bc we are where we are, they should be able to work together. Also going to link a post I made about creativitwins bc it's too long to quote here which has more of my thoughts about Remus's job as part of Creativity.

Remus is literally an alarm. He shows up when things are bad... And makes them worse, but!!!!! He's a clue to get to the root problem. Also, as someone who suffers from disturbing and upsetting intrusive thoughts, I'd love to see dealing with Remus through creation, bc honestly him having a hold of Creativity is perfect. One way to get through intrusive thoughts is the mindful meditation technique, another is by ejecting them via art/writing. I think that would be fun.

Some people think Remus is annoying. And? As is his right? No, but seriously, he's been neglected up until we see him appear, suppressed except for where his influence slips out, honestly, he could be MORE annoying if he wanted. Get their asses.

One characterization I see people give him is that he doesn't care, but if nothing else, there is one thing he absolutely has to care about: c!Thomas. I mentioned this in my unreliable narrator post in relation to Janus, but it stands for all of them: “Sides of Thomas will always seek to perform their duties to help Thomas.” I don't believe the sides can purposely seek to hurt c!Thomas. They're not people, they're part of a person.

Speaking of that post, I'm just going to copy paste my Remus paragraph bc I can:

And last we have Remus. This guy. Beautiful boy. All about being brutally honest except he’s just not lying. Except for when he is. I swear he just says stuff recreationally and like, me too, but at least I admit it. He’s got that Brennan Lee Mulligan 'I will die on any hill’ vibe methinks. The problem is that he says the actual profound truths in the same tone he does the shitposts so no one takes it seriously. And I swear to you this is on purpose, I can’t prove it, but tell me honestly you don’t think that’s something he’d do. Rat bastard.

Idk if I've said everything I wanted to. I've probably said enough for this post, though. As always, feel free to tag on or ask questions or whatever else!

[jessidogg]

I'm sorry to say this, but your plead to leave Justin alone just perpetuates white male privilege.

1. He criticized Britney Spears, his ex, for her drinking problems when she was a) being forced to perform to be able to see her children, b) forced to get an IUD, c) being financially abused and defamated by her father and ex, and d) recovering from the mental and emotional trauma of being exploited as a child star. This is one of the main reasons he's being so heavily criticized now. It was not only hypocritical, he ended up doing something worse because Britney never drank and drove

2. OF COURSE the cops say he was perfectly polite. He's a rich white man. He had no reason to fear for his life, the cops probably weren't aggressive towards him at all. He also knew he'd be easily bailed out

3. It is EXTREMELY out of touch to attempt to brush what he did under the rug. My uncle was killed by a drunk driver and it left my aunt and cousins devastated and in a really bad way after his death. Drunk drivers have ruined lives for purely selfish reasons. Just because he voiced your favorite animated troll doesn't diminish that

4. He's a grown ass man. He doesn't need you coming to his aid. People are allowed to be mad at him for his reckless and careless behavior. All your PSA does is try to guilt people to stop criticizing him. That's shitty

Hello! I have read all three of your asks and I totally understand where you're coming from! I'm so sorry that your uncle was killed, that is really depressing and sad and I'm praying for your family still💕

One, I'd like to say that no, JT does not need me to come to his aid. I'm VOLUNTEERING to bc I like him. I don't need his permission to tell people to forgive him, that's stupid. It's totally alright to stand up for people, just bc he is an adult does not mean that I cannot stand up for someone.

Two, you are so right! Driving while drunk is a stupid thing to do, and like I said, I am very frustrated he did such a thing. Justin has done tons of things he regrets from his drinking problems, and I wish he would just stop. But addictions are hard to stop (I totally understand that bc I have been thru multiple myself) but I wish he would just try a bit harder.

But I am not brushing what he did "under the rug". I'm sure that I won't persuade you, and that's fine, but I was only saying that we shouldn't take advantage of this to hate him even more.

I am sick of people going "haha, he's a loser" as if just because he is a celebrity that gives him more reason not to sin. I am saying that him driving drunk is just as bad as anyone else driving drunk, and that being drunk in general is terrible but that also shouldn't be the reason we hate him.

Justin Timberlake would never hurt someone on purpose. We all know that. The fact that he could have hurt someone is terrifying, but it's reality and I realize that. The point is, he made a mistake, and mistake does not mean an "oopsie" in this case, it means a "he knew what he was doing and it was a terrible idea".

In my other post I did not phrase it very well, and I'm sorry about that. What I meant was, Justin did something wrong. I am a strong Christian, and I believe that every sin is just as bad as any other. The difference is, some can cause way worse consequences. Driving while drunk is way more dangerous than maybe lying to your parents. But my God tells me that one is not worse than the other.

Even for those not being a Christian, I think everyone should know that there should not be worse sins, and "okay" ones. Everyone deserves a chance. You should forgive everyone 70 times 7. Then do it all over again.

If a liar told a nasty lie about you and didn't apologize and kept going, but a murderer turned himself in and repented and stopped, would you still say the murderer is the worst person?

The fact that Justin won't try harder annoys me. But we should never put even more hate on him just because he's well-known. He is a human. He is just as bad at stuff as other people are.

Also, Justin Timberlake is a nice guy. The fact that he knew he was going to get released wasn't why he was nice, and being white and rich should have NOTHING to do with what the police say (I find it extremely weird for u to use that description). Justin has been known for being a sweet kind guy and he loves his fans, friends, and family. He has been seen in the middle of a concert stopping everything to make sure a fan who seemed in need of help was alright by ordering security over and asking if they're good. He does tons of stuff around his town just to help out. DudePerfect, one of the most popular trick shot YouTubers, are strong Christians and said that one of their favorite memories was playing golf with Justin Timberlake. There would be no reason for them to lie about that.

Justin should not have criticized Britney Spears about that. That is very confusing why he would, and maybe he was just trying to get her not to go the direction he did a few times, but idk, it is just really stupid. But again, humans in general are stupid. I bet u can name a bazillion times u criticized someone about doing something that you have done or ended up doing yourself.

NOT HIDING IT UNDER THE RUG OR SAYING IT'S RIGHT BECAUSE IT'S NOT, JUST SAYING THAT WE ALL DO THAT KIND OF STUFF

Gosh, I know I'm probably no getting my point across, here lemme try to say this in an easier way. Erm... Justin Timberlake is human. Humans sin. Okay. Sinning is not good at all. We all do it, however, intentionally, from lying to murdering. Big or small consequences can come from any of them. DWI is terrible. I hate when I hear about anyone doing that. You have a right to be angry, I am angry at Justin. But I hate how the already Justin haters are taking advantage of every thing he does and making him seem worse than he is. You can hate him, whatever, but you can't stand beside him everywhere he goes, paper and pen, and mark down his every sin, calling him "even worse than before" with every count. Being drunk is bad!!! Driving while drunk is bad!!! But we should feel sorry for him that he doesn't seem to be able to find an outlet in something else. And we shouldn't hold up his every action, dangerous or not, against him. If we all counted everyone's sins, we would all add up to the same amount of terrible that Justin Timberlake is. We are all dumb humans. We shouldn't hold up everything against each other. We don't know the whole story of anything. All we know is that he was driving drunk. He was probably stressed, trying to have a good time, other stuff. This doesn't make it right. But it should cause us to be more cautious about the situation. Most of the people who bully have things going on at home that is causing them to let out their anger on others. Not saying that's right, but we shouldn't call them "bad people" and basically say "he did this so we're more better than them." That may not be how you think of it, but it's what you're saying.

I really hope I am not making people feel guilty, that is the last thing I want. I just want people to understand my view. If I made anyone feel guilty or it seemed that way, I apologize, that's not how I meant it at all. I just didn't agree with stuff, and I wanted to say what I thought, just how you just sent me what you thought.

Hope I said this right. I may not have because I am bad at explaining things through type. I'm sorry if I offended anyone, I love you all and mean nothing rude. 💕💕❤❤💕💕❤❤💕💕

-Jessi

[blackstarmylove]

Reaction to Rating (HC)

Fandom: Blackstar Theater Starless

Pairing: No pairing. Featuring teams K, P, W, Mokuren, Qu and Unei

Warning: None

Requested by: @acpzyrw

Prompt:

4/5 Stars: The food was fantastic in both taste and presentation. The staff were very charming and had me head over heels! The performance seized my heart, I just could not look away! Overall a perfect experience except for when I fainted after seeing (*ahem*) good-looking abs, to keep it simple, and needed to be escorted home by my friends.

Actually, would fainting from seeing nice abs be a good or bad thing lol? Alright editing time. The one star off is from... (what can be a down side to all this....?) Aha! One star off for Unei not being a performer! .... Mmm, nah there has to be something worse.... One star off for the gatcha being mean! That’s slightly better reason, I’d say. What would be a reason you’d take a star off (if you have one 😂)

A/N: Hehe, fainting from seeing abs would be a good thing, except for the people who have to deal with the fainted fan. I would take one star off for the gatcha for sure. Another reason would be if Kei was not in Starless that day (though I would go on K performance day, so it's not really a valid reason lol). 😂 Also, I started to write for all the teams but ended up sounding repetitive, so I didn't finish the rest of Team C and B. 🙈

———————————————

Kei

Would instantly be interested in why you took off one star.

He would be the happiest to read the compliment about the performance.

If you took off one star for the gatcha, Kei would chuckle. Unfortunately, he cannot do anything about it except hope you get the card or item of the cast member you like.

If you took off one star because Unei was not a cast member, he would simply sigh and shake his head. Someone has not attended the April Fools performances. One performance per year for someone not part of the cast member should be enough.

Sotetsu

You fainted from seeing abs? Sotetsu has a good laugh. He hopes his abs were mainly responsible for you fainting.

Regardless of why you took off one star, Sotetsu laughs.

Overall, he finds your rating very entertaining.

He hopes he is around next time you visit Starless because Sotetsu would love to flash his abs just to see you faint.

Ginsei

Ginsei pays close attention to your rating and is happy you enjoyed everything Starless offers. But why did you take off one star?

For Unei and the gatcha? He doesn't think that's fair.

Unei is not a cast member but was hired as an office management intern. In a way, gatcha means gambling, so 'the meanness' should be expected.

Gui

He has no reaction to the rating but is happy you liked the restaurant.

However, he does not understand why you removed one star. In his book, Gatcha and Unei are not valid reasons, so even if you explain it to him, Gui will not understand.

Yoshino

You compliment everything except the singer. What about the singer? Did you like their performance?

If Yoshino is the singer, he will take it personally and be upset. He will immediately take it as he didn't sing well.

Also, Unei is not an actor, singer, or performer in Starless, so why are you expecting him to be on stage? He can understand the gatcha, but doesn't that depend on your luck? Starless can't do anything if you don't have luck.

Yakou

Blushes when he reads you fainted from seeing abs. Were his abs also responsible for making you faint? Regardless, he hopes you are okay now.

He finds your reason to take off one star kinda funny but feels the need to apologize to you for Unei not being a performer, even though the decision is technically not in his hands.

Yakou hopes you will reconsider your rating and give Starless five stars. They work hard, so taking off one star for a silly reason is not okay.

Kokuyou

Immediately wonders why you took off one star, so he doesn't bother to look at the compliments and jumps straight to the criticism.

Seriously? Gatcha and Unei are your reasons?

Kokuyou feels like throwing his phone out the window. Couldn't you have come up with a better reason to give four stars? He doesn't bother reading the entire rating solely because of your reason for removing one star.

Akira

Awww, come on! Unei? That's why you gave a four star rating?

The amount of work they put in and the efforts the kitchen team makes to cook, and you are stuck on something out of their control? That's like going to an expensive restaurant and taking one star off in the ratings because the restaurant is expensive.

Akira is frustrated with you and your rating.

Sin

Sin reads your entire review and shrugs off your reason for removing one star. All to their own.

Your rating will not change anything, as it is just one person's opinion.

At least you like the performance, food, and service - the things Starless is known for.

Takami

Wonders if you are that sensitive or just too pure? What other reason would you have to faint from seeing abs?

Takami shakes his head when he reads your reason for four stars is Unei. He chuckles. Please leave Unei in the office as he is needed there.

The cast members have enough on their plates, so they don't need to manage paperwork, design flyers, organize events and venues, and do all the accounting.

Taiga

Aw, man. Gatcha and Unei? If you don't think your luck is good, don't go for anything gatch-related - take it from him, a gamer. As for Unei, the dude is part of the management team, not a team, so of course, he isn't going to be on stage.

Taiga grunts in annoyance at your rating. Next time, he will be sure not to read any reviews.

But he did laugh at 'fainting after seeing abs.' Did you just write that to make everyone laugh, or did it actually happen?

Rindou

4/5 is a good rating, and Rindou is content with that. He understands not everyone can be pleased and perfection is difficult to attain.

But he has a good chuckle at the 'fainting after seeing abs' part. It was a good thing you didn't get a nosebleed.

Rindou knows the gatcha can be brutal, whether in-game or item purchase.

If he meets you and learns you are the one who left the review, he will apologize to you for the gatcha being brutal. He will even ask what he can do to make it up to you.

Maica

Your reason better be valid for taking off the one star.

Gatcha and Unei? Those are your reasons? Maica feels the need to throw his phone against the wall.

That is the first and last time he reads any reviews.

What is the point of giving so many praises when you are planning to take one star away? Anyone who does that is like a judge in a reality show - they will shower the contestant with praise and then tell them they're not good enough and try again next year.

Nekome

People are so hard to please, but Nekome reads the review carefully. He ignores most of the praises but stops to chuckle after reading you fainted from seeing abs.

Nekome wants to know why you took off the single star. Whatever your reason, he ultimately doesn't care but is still curious.

Gatcha? Unei? He doesn't have any thoughts about Unei not being a performer, but he has heard enough complaints from Taiga about gatchas being ruthless.

Nekome understands but thinks if you are unwilling to take the risk, don't spin the gatcha.

Sinju

He is satisfied with 4 out of 5 stars and eagerly reads your review to learn your thoughts about Starless.

When he sees your comment about abs, Sinju blushes but feels guilty for being part of why you fainted. Should they wear less revealing clothes?

Sinju is one of the few cast members who agrees that Unei should get a chance on the stage. Then again, they need Unei to take care of everything behind the scenes. On second thought, maybe overloading Unei isn't such a good idea.

Menou

He doesn't care about anything except your comment on acting. Wait, you said performance, but what about the acting? Performance is generally dancing. You didn't like the acting?

Menou is disappointed and feels he needs to work harder as an actor to overpower the dancers.

Then again, that would require him to forgo his sleep. Nevermind.

He will take the 4/5 rating without further complaints.

---

Bonus

Mokuren

What in the world? 4/5 for Unei and gatcha? Those are not valid reasons!

If Mokuren meets you in person, they would be tempted to ask you to give a 'more valid' reason to take away one star.

You were just trying to find an excuse to not give 5 stars, weren't you?

They know there are people like that out there, and in Mokuren's book, you are one of those people now.

Qu

Qu happily reads your review but doesn't know whether to laugh or feel concerned about you fainting because of abs.

Regardless, he is thankful as maintaining a physique is hard work.

He understands you want to see Unei on stage, but he already has a lot of work to do. Are you sure you want to put Unei through countless hours of rehearsals while he handles all the other operations in Starless?

Unei

Did you take an entire star away for him? Unei is touched and in tears. He didn't think he had fans!

Unei is determined to meet his fans and waits for you to return to Starless.

When he meets you, he thanks you profusely for supporting him and apologizes for being unable to be on stage. But Unei promises he will take any opportunity he gets to perform on stage.

———————————————

➣ BlackStar Theater Starless Masterlists [1][2][3][4]

➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open  ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

[deva-arts]

Hey! so!

This is a spooky post, okay? it's really edgy so please be warned if you don't like dark themes! <3

Not sure if this is an unnecessary warning or not but better safe than sorry :'D I've got a lot of fluffy drawings queued after this ehehe I just wanted to do something angsty

A-4. Hm.

C-1.  You said something, Atius?

A-4. There is a recurring trend here; it heals faster and more efficiently when under pressure. These were all times when we cut costs on anesthesia.

C-1. Interesting... More effectively you say?

A-4. Yes. Remarkably so, I'd say the injur-... affected areas have a much higher rate of functionality than they held previously. Just look at the cardiopulmonary results from a year ago to now- I'd even go as far as to say that it's possible to have more successful splices on this specimen in the future.

C-1. What is stopping us from doing this from now on?

A-4. Ah.. I would advise against it. There’s the question of excessive stress-

C-1. A non-issue, our goal is progress.

A-4. As well as the scarring-

C-1. We never truly cared about cosmetics, now did we?

A-4. This might also worsen its mental state-

C-1. Mental state? Ha! It's a good thing we start cutting some costs then. We let it get too comfortable at the cost of precious time. Its tolerance has made things terribly expensive for daily practice. I say let it scream, they stop eventually. Do consider providing our staff with adequate noise protection though.

A-4. ...Understood, Cain.

C-1. Atius?

A-4. Yes sir?

C-1. You say that physical duress makes it... Better? Stronger?

A-4. At the cost of physical and m-mental integrity, yes. It makes for an unnaturally fast healing process.

C-1. It’s a wonder why we even bothered waiting between procedures!

A-4. ...

C-1. You say this is observable in other parts of its body as well?

A-4. ...Sir...

C-1. Answer me, Atius. You know what you signed.

A-4. Yes sir. 

A-4. ...

A-4. As you can see on the following diagrams, the specimen has been performing optimally in concordance with our standards. Fall simulations led to a higher observable bone density. Strength output has improved post-muscle failure. Flexibility has grown after hyperextension. This goes without mentioning fight simulations, which have ameliorated reaction time, effectiveness, and overall damage output. The only issue is altitude tolerance; pressure trials have been unsuccessful as of late.

C-1. How durable... It's the sort of reform I expect from immortals.

A-4. ...

A-4. I must ask you to reconsider though, Cain— the forced heal leaves a harsher effect on his-

C-1. Looks like we did something right after all.

A-4. ...

C-1. ...Mm. So these are all of our projections?

A-4. ...Yes.

C-1. I see. Vision isn't on par with our metrics. Fix this.

A-4. Cain, there isn't any more we can do to increase this field. We've used all sorts of methods to achieve this.

C-1. Then break his eyes next.

-

And thus, here is the biggest antagonist to Vincent's story- Cain. He's might be even worse than Titan. You'll hate him! I hope.

Cain is a human-passing, vampiric variant who feeds off of the pain and suffering of others. He became a monocular double amputee by his own son in hopes that he would never be able to harm someone else. A torturer by heart, he joins careers that give him the opportunity to consume the most to anesthetize himself and offset his own discomfort. He gets his fix by being the head of hundreds of processing units, including Project Venus, where he assured the CFO that he would deliver the results they were robbed of by Roxanne.

Thus, he is free to do anything with the rough draft, so long as they get results, improvement, and new data on this modified species.

By any means necessary....

[scottappreciation]

Thank You for a Wonderful Scottuary3!

STATS AND BINGOS

Scottuary3 received a total of 36 fics as well as 4 additional works, for a total of 40 works celebrating Scott! Special shout-out to @princeescaluswords for bingo, as well as @scribeoffate and @domesticated-feral for 9 works each!

Final fic round-up and additional works below the cut!

BONUS ROUND

Through the month of April, you may submit Readers' Bingos! Simply drop a comment on five fics in any sequential direction and then post your card with links to each of the fics. You may submit as many cards as you like! If you run out of fics to make a complete bingo, feel free to comment on one again :)

Additionally, as four squares remained unfilled, you may still submit a new fic for only those four squares, also through the end of April.

Happy ficcing!

FINAL ROUND-UP

Row A

Maybe I Should Be No One: when the going gets tough (and you don't know if you'll make it to next week) by @domesticated-feral

Maybe I Should Be No One: Bitter Conduct, by @princeescaluswords

Scott + STEM: Scott McCall's Guide to Become a Vet by @letthestorieslive

Threefold Death: third time's a charm by @scribeoffate

Row B

Werewolf Reveal: Trapped by @domesticated-feral

Werewolf Reveal: the subject by @lulujane

Werewolf Reveal: the price of admission by @scribeoffate

Werewolf Reveal: Sweet by @dahliia04

Somatoformic: things got bad, and got worse (it's better now), by @letthestorieslive

Somatoformic: The Fisher King by @@princeescaluswords

The Bite: the bite is... by @daughterofluthien

The Bite: Seems I'm Not Alone (in Being Alone) by @letthestorieslive

Mercy: somebody that i used to know by @scribeoffate

Beacon Hills' (Disaster) Clubs: allure by @scribeoffate (E)

Row C

Berserker Remnants: the predatory instinct by @momentofmemory

Berserker Remnants: Blood's Run Stale by TralphaPuppy

Peter Trauma: There's A Bad Moon On The Rise, by @letthestorieslive

Peter Trauma: the predatory instinct by @momentofmemory

Free Space: A Reminder (of You) by @domesticated-feral

Free Space: Phone Call by @domesticated-feral

Free Space: Never Morning Wore to Evening by @princeescaluswords

Free Space: Ways to Say I Love You by kitmeadow

Free Space: instruction by @scribeoffate

Row D

Outsider POV: My Best Friend, Scott and I, by @domesticated-feral

Outsider POV: when next week comes (and you have no idea where to go from here) , by @scribeoffate

Outsider POV: virginia, your little friends are wrong, by @moistvonlipwig

Hunted: The Mating Run by @scribeoffate

UC Davis: Graduation, by @domesticated-feral

Wolfsbane: A Performance Evaluation of Hercules's Twelfth Labor by @princeescaluswords

Scott + Fear: there will come soft rains by @spikeface

Scott + Fear: you've still got me by @scribeoffate

Row E

I Just Need Something Permanent: Permanence by @scribeoffate

Episode Tag: wash it away, sleep it away, by @domesticated-feral

Scott + Clothes: Denim Jacket by @domesticated-feral

Scott + Clothes: pretty as a picture by @scribeoffate (E)

Asthma: take my breath away by @scribeoffate

Asthma: everything i wanted by @momentofmemory

I Do Things That Should Be Impossible: Standard Operating Procedure by @princeescaluswords

ADDITIONAL WORKS

Threefold Death by @sammi-phoenix

The Bite by @sammi-phoenix

Scott + STEM by @sammi-phoenix

Shadow Wolf by @slice-of-magenta

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile (V.2) Chapter Twenty

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: M for Mature. We've begun the 18+ content

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child. 

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

You and Balam were hanging near the back of the auditorium during the Music Festival, enjoying their performances from the other first-years. Shichiro's height allowed him to easily look over the crowd, and so could you, considering you were sitting on the demon's shoulders. No one seemed to blink an eye at the sight, but that was likely due to the performances. 

Each one struck a chord in you. But especially Class A and their play 'Rise of the Spirit Prince,' teaching the opposite of nearly every fable from Earth. 

Be greedy for power, for knowledge. Bare your fangs at those who would dare look down on you. 

The words echoed in your heart even after the ballad ended and Class C started their powerful duel/duet. The play reminded you of the question Sullivan and Shichiro had both posed to you. 

What is your ambition? Reach for it. Grab it, no matter whether or not you think you deserve it. 

You… wanted everything. You wanted what you had now, and more. You wanted to not worry about the future and instead enjoy the love, the life, you had now. 

Class B's play struck another chord in away with their tragedy titles 'A Bloodstained Marriage' with the star-crossed lovers of a princess and dragon. A demonic twist to the fairy tales you had grown up with. 

"Will you choose me above all else?" 

"Always."

And god, the ending lines of: "I don't regret anything in our life together. You are my whole world." left you misty eyed as you stoked Shichiro's hair. You had a feeling he was thinking similar thoughts as he rubbed circles with his thumbs on your lower legs that were slung over his shoulders. 

When it was finally time for the Misfits, the whole auditorium became abuzz with energy. You clung on to Shichiro a little tighter in excitement. After all, Iruma had wanted the whole thing a surprise, so he had refused to tell you any details about the play. 

And gods, Lilith's Red Carpet was amazing. You forgot you were watching your favorite students perform and was swept away by the magic of the play. Music became your heartbeat, the song your thoughts as the teenagers that were near and dear to your heart morphed into their characters.

Lilith, searching for the perfect love, and refusing to settle for anything less. She didn't care about being selfish, or being unreasonable. She reveled in the love and passion that others showed her, proud of her desires. 

You were shocked once it was over, ripped from the story and back into reality as everyone clapped and cheered, and soon you were joining them as you clapped as hard as you could, your heels braced against Shichiro's chest as he did the same. 

Your kiddos had definitely won. With Soi's triumphant ending and return, how could they not? 

 Even if you were slightly biased, you refused to think they could lose. Not after that brilliant performance. 

The judges seemed to agree once the clamor died down. Six from Judge Kyupa. Six from Judge Meimei.

And a one frome Judge Three, Amduscias Poro. The one who had been the strictest so far. 

You hadn't expected a perfect score - no matter how much you believed they deserved it - but a one?!

"WHAT?!" You snarled, your pride turning into rage in an instant. Shichiro gripped your legs tight, preventing you from jumping down. You fought against his thick arms, too fueled by rage to think rationally. "Damn it! Let me go! Let me give him a fucking piece of my mind!"

"You're causing a scene, dearest," He mumbled quietly, aware of the looks you were oblivious to.

"I don't care, Shichiro!" You shot back with a growl. "He's being unfair! There is no way in hell they deserve a one!"

"Shhh," he chided gently, and you were on the verge of swearing when you realized Poro was talking. The giant demon tapped the sign boasting a one, and it shifted into a music note.

Which looked like a six.

Meaning your kids had won.

You were sure your throat was going to be raw as you cheered, Shichiro now holding on to make sure you didn't fall as you clapped as hard as you could in between wooping and screaming. 

Anything to make sure your kids knew how proud you were of them. 

--+--

A few hours later, you found yourself with both Kalego and Balam, watching over the students as they celebrated.

The after-party of the festival was much like the harvest festival, with music and talk filling most of the hall, both food and drinks overflowing. Except this time you had no fear of Raim and Momonoki or any Rumors that could spread. If anything you spurred a few on being plastered to Shichiro's side, occasionally sneaking a drink from his cup or carefully threading a piece of food through the vents of his mask for him to try. 

Kalego, for the most part, just rolled his eyes whenever he saw you being affectionate, but didn't say anything. 

"Devi, he's coming this way," Kalego suddenly muttered, disappearing as you looked up, trying to spot Opera's red hair. After all, they were the only person Kalego seemed to fear beside your father, and Sullivan had been busy with Poro.

Except you didn't see Opera, but the towering judge stalking towards your direction- with your adoptive father at his side. You hadn't formally met Poro yet, though you had heard brief anecdotes from Kalego and Balam as well as from the Misfit class. 

You thought they had exaggerated his height but now that you were able to see the demon up close… he was tall. Taller than Sullivan, taller than Balam, whom you instinctively pressed closer to.

"So this is the mother of that child?" Poro spoke with a melodic voice despite his narrowed eyes as he reached you and Shichiro, not even bothering with a greeting. 

"My lovely daughter, yes," Sullivan confirmed, beaming with pride as he introduced you. "She is my pride and joy next to my wonderful grandson." 

Poro glanced between you and Sullivan, doubt evident on his face. "You don't exactly resemble each other. But you swear she's not Delkira's?"

Your heart skipped a beat before Sullivan laughed. "Thankfully! Could you imagine if she and Iruma looked like me? And for the last time, they are not Delkira's heirs."

Poro laughed slightly at that, making you relaxed. "Her melody matches yours and Iruma's at least, though unique," Poro acknowledged, still talking about you and not to you. Which was rather annoying. You were about to insist that they talk to you and not about you when Poro’s next words made you freeze. "And…tied to his." Poro's attention shifted towards Balam, his eyes narrowing once more. "Wait, are you the boy's father?"

"What? No, no," Shichiro quickly answered, face turning red. Though, there was a hint of a smile behind his mask as he rubbed his neck. "I mean, well, not strictly. I do care for him as if he was, and I do want children someday, but we're still courting and--"

"Shichiro," You whispered as both elder demons had conspicuous smiles on their faces as he continued to dig himself in a hole. Your hand twined with his, pulling his attention to you. Despite the situation, his words thrilled you. He cared for Iruma in such a way? And he did want to have children? With you? 

Shichiro looked down at you, his face bright with a blush but looking awkwardly happy at the same time.                                 

"I think you're going to get more grandchildren in the near future," Poro faux-whispered, bringing you out of your thoughts with a deep blush. "It seems perhaps your curse has lifted." 

"I am rather hoping," Sullivan chuckled, though there was something in his expression. Something that seemed a bit… haunted when you looked towards him.

Curse? What curse? 

He seemed to notice your worry and smiled reassuringly at you. It didn't calm your curiosity, but you understood he didn't want you to worry about it.

Instead you turned to Poro. “By the way, about your little stunt with the one earlier….” 

The towering demon raised an eyebrow as Shichiro sighed deeply. To your relief and excitement, Sullivan nodded his head in agreement, a smile forming beneath his white mustache. 

--+--

Ten hours after drinking the energizing tea, and as Shichiro predicted, Iruma was dead asleep.

You had to bite back a smile to see him curled against Clara and Asmodeus, all three teenagers completely passed out in what you could only describe as a cuddle pile. Thankfully, the party was virtually over with, so no one really noticed. 

There was a click of a camera shutter, and you looked over your shoulder to see Shichiro taking a picture with his phone. A quiet beep a second later confirmed he had sent it to you without you even needing to ask. 

"I should get him home and into bed," You sighed as you turned back to the three. Although he was still quite tiny for his age, he wasn't skin and bones anymore, making you dread the walk back home. Back on Earth, you could pick him up like a bag of rice and carry with just a little difficulty. You highly doubted that was the case anymore after months of being able to eat as much as he had wanted.

Maybe you should call Opera or Sullivan to see if they could help you. 

Before you could reach for your phone, Shichiro stepped forward and carefully picked Iruma from the cuddle pile.

And oh, that needed a picture. One you quickly took while Shichiro was still adjusting his hold on the boy. Maybe it was the late hour; or the few drops of Netherworld alcohol you mixed with your juice, or your earlier conversation still ringing in your mind - but you felt like your heart was about to burst at the sight.

"Shall we? The other teachers will take care of Valac and Asmodeus." He reassured, holding Iruma with one arm to offer you the other. You silently nodded your head as you accepted his arm, unable to speak because of the lump in your throat.

It felt like a fairy tale as you walked home hand-in-hand with Shichiro. The moons were bright, lighting the way and casting shadows that moved beyond the trees. But you felt completely safe with Shichiro by your side, knowing nothing could even dream of hurting you or Iruma with him near.

Or maybe this was a taste of days to come. Of your happily ever after that was quickly taking shape. A sense of happiness and joy you had never dared to dream of. 

This was your dream. Your ambition. A loving father, Opera (while no familial title fit, they were absolutely part of your family), a darling son...

And now, a partner. A mate. A sire for future children.

"Do you want me to carry you too?" Shichiro asked honestly as you leaned against him with a sigh.

"No," You answered, smiling up at him. "I'm... just really happy right now."

His grip tightened slightly, dark eyes crinkling in a smile. "Me too."

--+--

Getting Iruma back to his room and tucking him into the oversized bed was easy. If you took a little longer than usual to fuss about the blankets and brushing your fingers through his slicked back hair, Shichiro didn't seem to mind.

"You did great today," You whispered before pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You do great everyday. I am so proud of you." Iruma shifted in his sleep with a smile on his face before you followed Shichiro out into the hall.

"I know you didn't give birth to Iruma," Shichiro started, "but... you're a very good mother to him. And a good mentor to many of the students."

"You too," You deflected, flushing at the praise as you bumped your shoulder into him. "I think you're a pretty amazing teacher. Not just to your protégés Asmodeus and Sabnock - or even me and Iruma - but to all the students."

He pulled you into a hug, his chest pressed to your back. "My sweet vixen. I... have one last thing for you."

"Oh?" You mused, heart thumping as your mind whirled with possibilities, both innocent and not so much. "You've given me so much already, Shichiro."

One arm let go of your waist, and there was a rustle of a pocket before he presented a wrapped box. Small, about the size of the book. 

"Love stories were never much interest to me, until recently," he all but purred into your ear. "You are my dream, my Lilith."

If your heart wasn't beating wildly in your chest before, it was now. You accepted the box, well aware of Shichiro's anxious hold on your waist as you carefully undid the wrapping.

Courting a Princess.

"Shichiro..." You gasped as you took in the beautiful - adorable - art of the book, no question who the protagonists were supposed to be. A demon with wild white hair, clawed feet, and green feathered wings.

And a very human looking woman across from him. 

--+--

The princess of the Sullivan family was as beautiful as she was rare. Many demons gave her offerings of gold, gems, and magical treasures beyond value. Yet she denied them all, returning their offerings to them upon their return in a month. For she did not seek wealth or power as most demons would.

She sought knowledge. She was a lover of literature and the wisdom of ages past.

One demon in particular admired her for her thirst for knowledge and boundless curiosity, as well as her beauty. But he figured he had no hope of courting the princess. He was high ranking, but scarred horrifically from the days of his youth - and had already pledged to serve Babyls.

To his surprise, the princess herself approached him one day - going as far as covering her horns and hiding fangs in deference. "Please, sir, they say you have knowledge of realms unknown to most. Would you please teach me?"

He could deny her nothing, and took every opportunity to teach her everything he knew. Hours spent talking with her felt like brief moments, and he found himself falling even more in love.

So although he feared he would end up just another rejected suitor, he approached her one day; bowing with his wingbase bared and offered her a book. A rare book - worthless to many demons - but he hoped that perhaps she would accept it.

Her laugh echoed through the room, making him look up. She revealed an equally priceless book as she knelt before him. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Please, be my Intended."

--+--

It was late in the evening of the following day of the music festival, with everyone retired to their rooms for the night. Kitten was happily curled up in your lap as you read Shichiro's gift to you (for probably the hundredth time - though each time you swore you loved it more) when suddenly his head perked up; his little nose twitching in the air. Before you could react, the kitten jumped from your lap and dashed out the room and down the hall.

You quickly followed him, surprised by his behavior. Yes, he usually developed 'the zoomies' in the evenings, but nothing like this. The way he was darting down the carpeted hallway - body low to the ground - made you think he was stalking something.

Something that was apparently in Iruma’s bedroom. Kitten was able to slip silent through the partially-opened door before you could catch him. You had just barely reached the door when you heard a scream from inside.

No. Two screams - only one which you recognized. Startled, you slammed the door open before freezing. A dark - as in an unnatural black as a shadow - person(?) was in bed with Iruma, sitting unusually close to the boy.

You barely noticed Kitten clutching to the shadow-person with his claws and teeth. Not when a feral snarl spread across your lips before you launched yourself at the person. You used every tactic Opera taught you as you tore at them, your maternal instincts in a rage at this bastard who dared to be in your son's bed. Iruma was a child, and whomever - whatever - this thing was, it was not one of his many friends.

Yet it felt like punching an overly soft pillow, or even a cloud. You could feel your fists make contact but yet there was no substance to crack your knuckles against.

"Mom! Mom, stop!" Iruma's voice broke through your rage as your boy wrapped his arms around your body, trying to restrain you.

"What the fuck?!" You snarled, at whom you weren't sure. The creature you had pinned beneath you, or your son trying to defend the bastard. "Who the fuck are you? What is he doing in your bed? What the hell is going on!"

"Ma'am, I'd be happy to answer your questions if you get your cat off me." The being spoke, acting more bothered by Kitten's continued attempts at gnawing his hand than your own assault.

"Give me one good reason why I should," You shot back, hand still gripping his… top? It looked like a coat label but felt like unearthly fog between your fingers. Like any moment it would slip away through your fingers.

"Ali's my friend - my partner," Iruma answered. "It's okay, I promise."

"Fucking devibullshit!" You snapped at without thinking, part of you hurt that he would lie to you. Or maybe that this asshole had convinced him of such a thing. "You would've introduced him if that was the case!"

"Well, to be fair, until now no one but Iruma could really see me," Ali tried to defend, earning your harsh glare. Instead of being intimidated, he tilted his head towards Kitten. "Please, the cat?"

You hesitated, your mind trying to advise you to give the one-eyed creature a chance to explain, while your heart continued to demand that you rip him to shreds.

Except - you hadn't really been ripping him to shreds, or even ruffling his suit. Against your better judgment, you gripped the kitten by the scruff and pulled him off Ali, causing the kitten to whine as if you stole him away from his favorite toy. You shifted into a sitting position while holding Kitten in your lap. "Now. Either you tell me what's going on, or I will release Kitten again."

--+--

About an hour later, your mind was still trying to comprehend what was going on.

Apparently, Iruma's magic Gluttonous Ring was haunted by Ali - or rather - Alikred. Who had been helping Iruma from the literal shadows since before you even arrived in the Netherworld; he only seemed to grow in strength and sentience as Iruma himself grew stronger.

Some part of you felt distrustful of the being (spirit? demon? Something else?), but you weren't sure if it was intuition or just paranoia and suspicion of a magical being that was closely linked to Iruma, which was causing your mother-hen instinct to balk.

One thing was sure; Kitten was determined to attack Ali. During the whole conversation, he squirmed and yowled more than he ever had before, confusing you until you recalled Shichiro stating something about his kind eating lost spirits in the wild.

Ali seemed very cautious of Kitten in return, his one eye drifting to the ball of fluff in your arms with suspicion evident. So no matter what, you did have a weapon against him should your fears become reality.

"Do you understand now, mom?" Iruma spoke softly once he finished his story, his big blue eyes pleading like a puppy's. "Ali is harmless."

"Ow," Ali muttered quietly with a pout despite not having much in the way of facial features. You weren't sure how that worked. "Iruma my boy, do you really need to call me harmless?"

You glared at Ali. Iruma was your boy. And if Ali wanted to continue to be Iruma's 'partner', he'd better be harmless.

You turned back to Iruma, your expression softening. It was hard to remember how strong and independent the young teen was despite his soft appearance. He was so used to facing the world by himself; not asking for help.

Which was probably why he never mentioned this before.

But - he did know danger and avoided it like the plague, so… you could trust him on this….

Right?

"I'm always going to worry about you," You said after a moment, reaching forward to cup his face tenderly. "That's just a part of who I am. But I will trust you about this, because I know you're so strong and responsible. But I want you to know, to feel, that you can talk to me about anything. Please, don't feel like you have to carry these burdens by yourself."

Iruma's own worried expression softened, tears forming in his eyes as he nodded. "Of course, mom. And I will, I promise."

----

"Are spirits that possess objects anything to worry about?"

Kalego held up Kitten by the scruff. Who - for the hundredth time that week - had wandered off and went to attack Ali. Or as everyone else saw it - play with Iruma. "Did you not hear what I said? You need to control your cat."

"Are you not a teacher?" You replied back without explanation as you crossed your arms. To be fair, you had tried to keep Kitten from stalking Ali - but it seemed that instinct to hunt spirits was stronger than anything else you tempted him with.

You had planned to speak with Balam about it, but seeing as Kalego was right here, and he was quite intelligent as well plus didn't get off on tangents as Balam was known to do. (Though you loved him for it, watching him grow excited made you so happy.)

"Are you not a librarian surrounded by one of the largest collections of books in the Netherworld?" Kalego shot back, unamused. "Besides, it's common knowledge that spirits who possess objects are rarely a danger for a demon beyond aleph…" He trailed off after a moment, realization lighting his dark eyes. "Except - you're rankless, aren't you?"

"Which does not mean I'm powerless," You quickly defended, realizing the possible unintended consequence of your inquiry. "But… you're right. I can do my own studying."

Besides, he had answered your main concern; sort of. You didn't care about Ali's danger to you, you just cared if he was a danger to Iruma. And yes, while Iruma wasn't exactly a demon, he was strong…

Thanks to his ring; which was possessed. Oof, this would require more research. It probably wasn't a question you were going to get a simple answer for either.

You recalled creating a section for magical artifacts, and tried to remember any books on possessed items of power.

"And this?" Kalego interrupted your train of thoughts as he held the kitten out for you to take.

"... He's a work in progress," You admitted as you struggled with Kitten as he fought against your hold until you gripped his scruff firmly like a mother cat would. Even then, you knew he would take off as soon as you set him down. You hated the idea of locking him up in a room, but honestly couldn't think of any other options at this point.

"If you can't control him, then he shouldn't be allowed at Babyls," Kalego rebuked as he crossed his arms, his typical disapproving scowl gracing his face. "What kind of example are you setting by allowing him to run wild in the halls?"

You huffed, sufficiently chaisened as you held Kitten closer. "I told you, I'm working on it. So, unless you have any pointers or tips, you can go let me continue my work in relative peace."

A smile spread across Kalego's face. Not a pleasant kind smile that you would never expect from him anyways, but the sinister smile that the Misfits often spoke about. The one that promised pain and misery. "Actually…"

In a blink, an electric-like crackle filled the air as Cerberion appeared. Both you and Kitten flinched, feeling the magic and fierce nature of the beast bear down on you. "He's not that different from a familiar. Rankless or not, I'm sure you can control the fuzzball with my… guidance."

----

Cats and dogs were two very different things on earth, so you had assumed feline and canine creatures of the Netherworld were just as different. After all, there were a lot of parallels between Earth and the Netherworld that you and Shichiro enjoyed having long discussions about. And while there was an undeniable vast difference between the two, there was a growing list of similarities as well.

But while Shichiro knew creatures inside and out - along with some of their social behaviors - Kalego was the expert when it came to asserting dominance and creating a bond.

Though for Kitten, Kalego asserted that the best way for a bond to be forged was for him to understand the fact that you were safe. As long as he stayed near you, Cerberion left him alone.

Simple, in theory. Except it meant that in practice Cerberion would randomly appear out of thin air with a thunderous growl whenever Kitten tried to test his boundaries, spooking not only Kitten, but yourself and whomever else happened to be in the library at the time.

Thankfully, for you and the rest of Babyls’ population that was tired of one heart attack after another, Kitten was a fast learner. The next step was teaching Kitten how to accept guidance - which was tricker.

Usually, familiars reacted to their summoner's mana more than physical or verbal commands. But considering your 'unique' situation, that was nigh impossible.

You eventually reached out not just to those you felt most comfortable with (Kalego, Shichiro, Opera, and Sullivan) but to the other Babyls staff. Furcas was especially interested in the challenge, tearing through the library in an uncharacteristic whirlwind, leaving you scrambling to put it back in order.

But with her help, you were able to create a sigil that both looked and acted somewhat like a summoning seal. Soon you had it traced upon the back of your hand, using it to focus your mana as well as communicate your intents to Kitten.

"Now the little fluff won't be disrupting my classes," Kalego stated with a very vague hint of approval in his voice as he watched Kitten fetch the small stuffed toy. You were still amazed that a feline was behaving more or less like a well trained dog. "I also suggest you stop telling students he isn't a familiar."

"But he isn't," You defended as you took the toy mouse from Kitten, scritching between his ears as well as sending mana to the sigil as a form of praise.

"That may be. But it's drawing attention and raising questions that I doubt you want."

His words made you pause. Kalego had dropped hints that he knew something was up, but he didn't care to dig deeper into the truth. It still sent a shiver of fear whenever he implied he knew about your origins. "I don't like lying," You answered slowly.

Kalego huffed and crossed his arms. "Lying and allowing people to believe what they assume to be true are two seperate things. Especially when it could possibly put you in danger. Being unranked is unusual enough - alongside being unable to perform magic without the use of sigils. But having a creature following you around that is not a familiar will have others start to take notice."

You still couldn't figure out how - or why - demons didn't quite have the concept of pets. Just like the lack of the term friendship.

"As part of Babyls staff, you are considered one of ours," He continued. "But too many flags will still raise suspicion."

"... I suppose you're right," You sighed.

"Of course I am," He snorted, sounding offended yet a glance showed a small smirk on his face. "You may be surrounded by books, but it's obvious you still need education on the finer aspects of our culture."

You paused again, shooting him a suspicious look. How much did he actually know? Did he know the truth, or was he just referring to the backstory of you and Iruma coming from a different region of the Netherworld?

He caught your gaze - and the expression behind it - and raised a brow, challenging you. Part of you wanted to take the bait. To just bluntly ask how much did he know. Yet you knew you shouldn't in case he didn't know anything and he was either baiting you to spill the truth, or it was all a misunderstanding on your part.

So instead, you forced a smile as you teased. "Aw, Kalego, I knew you really do like me, deep down."

There was a brief look of surprise on his face before he scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I only do this because you are a part of Babyls staff as well as the fact you are Shichiro"s Intended."

"Mmm, no. This is more than that. We're friends now, aren't we?"

"There's that ridiculous term your son and his classmates are spreading through the campus…"

"It's not ridiculous. It's very important for people of all ages to have friends. You're just going to have to deal with the fact that I see you as one of my friends. And there is nothing you can do about it."

He grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Devi. I will never understand why Shichiro decided to choose you."

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma--+--

Balam enjoyed spending time with Iruma; especially after Poro's insinuation of being the boy's father. It wasn't true, of course.

But… he could be fatherly towards the boy and pretend at times. It was rather easy to fall into the thoughts of ‘what-ifs’ and wonder if Iruma would be agreeable to such a thing. Especially considering Iruma seemed to love their time together. Even when Balam carefully clutched the boy's feet with his own, allowing Iruma to stretch out his back while they talked. Truthfully, it was something he remembered his father doing when he was smaller, and was happy to do the same with Iruma. Granted, his father had done it partially to help him strengthen his then-new wings, which Iruma didn't quite possess. 

But the human seemed content to just hang upside down for fun, his grin as bright as his blue eyes as he listened to the demon’s stories. 

Today, Shichiro felt bold enough to share the story of how he received his scar - - glossing over the worst part of the memory -- and confiding with him the fact that you reminded him a lot of that mother bird in a way. How protective you were of your 'chicks', ready to take on whoever or whatever threatened them without regard for your safety.

That mother bird changed his life, both in the obvious way as well as give him a new passion and respect for life. And then you had appeared and had changed his life once more, giving him another ambitious goal. 

To pursue romance, to daydream of having both a mate and maybe even a family of his own.

The last part he didn't share, though it was certainly on his mind.  Shichiro wondered what the boy would think of the situation. Demons didn't always get along with their half-siblings when those types of situations occurred. But humans were so much more accepting. 

Would Iruma's compassion extend to your possible future children? Would he look upon them as siblings? Or more distantly like younger cousins? Or would he see them as rivals for your love and affection as some demon children were prone to do when new children were born into the family...

(He tried to keep his thoughts from straying to those of you carrying his children, or how wonderful of a mother you would be - which was rather difficult. But Iruma deserved his undivided attention, so he would give it to him)

"When is your birthday?" Balam asked Iruma after a while, gently lowering the boy to his chest after his face started to turn pink from being upside down too long. Shichiro thoughtlessly ran his hand through Iruma's wild blue hair as he thought. Did humans even celebrate their birth - their life - like demons did? After all, their world wasn't as dangerous as the Netherworld. More human babes probably survived to adulthood than their demonic counterparts, so perhaps they didn't revere and cherish life as they did.

It was also one topic he had yet to discuss with you. There were far more fascinating topics to talk about usually. Or, lately, far more interesting activities to occupy both his attention and mouth when he had a moment of your time

Iruma smiled brightly again. "My birthday was October fourth! I turned fifteen!"

Balam beamed, caught up in the prospect of learning something new than to realize how Iruma worded his statement. "What do humans do to celebrate birthdays?"

"Well, most have parties where all their friends and family bring presents," He started, his smile faltering slightly. "But, well, before it was just mom and I, since neither of us really had friends or any other family." Just as quickly as it faded, Iruma's smile returned fondly as he recalled the birthdays he had shared with you. There had only been a few, but they meant so much to him.

He couldn't remember any time his biological parents even acknowledged the day, after all.

"Mom would make as much food as we could eat, including sweets while we played games all day. Or one time, we went to town to see a movie and even bought popcorn at the theater, and then went and got ice cream afterwards. Then, at the end of the day, we'd give each other our gifts. Just one was the agreement, but mom always found a way around it and would spoil me for the entire week. This year things got kind of crazy with coming to the Netherworld, so I guess we both kind of forgot."

The last sentence made Shichiro pause as he recalled the date. Oh.

It was October twenty-fifth.

Had you truly forgotten Iruma's birthday?

[copiousloverofcopia]

Hey hey Ghesties!!!! For all you Copia lovers, the next installment of Something Blue is LIVE!

Things just got REAL. Thank you so much for reading! If you like my work, please REBLOG!

It helps my work reach new people!

Something Blue

Sister of Sin Astrid is anything but excited for Cardinal Copia to return home from tour. As his assistant, she leads a life of monotony and boredom from which she longs for more. When the Cardinal returns, anointed as Papa Emeritus IV, she is faced with an unwanted and unavoidable situation predicated on her family’s position within the church. Will Astrid rise to what has been asked of her or will she destroy everything and leave it all behind?

Chapter 4: Something Wrong

Also available HERE on AO3. Haven’t started yet? Start from the beginning HERE!

Read below the cut!!

Though it had been weeks since the announcement of Copia's ascension, and Astrid as his Prime Mover, both of them had become hyper aware of the passing days. Drawing closer to the time when the leaves would begin to fall, and the Autumn Equinox would be upon them. The date, set forth by the Ministry, for Astrid’s Prime Mover ritual. Copia was honestly surprised they had given them that long. With no other heirs to the papacy, and his eventual need to go on tour once again, he was shocked they had so much as five minutes before him and Astrid were made to wed.

He was still very much unclear on how they were going to navigate everything. Copia, wondering what all they’d be forced to do. What dance or parlor tricks would need to be fulfilled in order to satisfy the Ministry’s expectations. Then another meeting with Sister Imperator was set for the next morning—one Astrid was not invited to. Copia was hoping it was his chance to clear some things up. 

"Copia please sit down." Sister insisted. Immediately her tone, serious and deep. Copia did as he was asked, immediately on the defensive even having only just walked in the door.

"Sister." He began, before Imperator put up her hand to stifle him. 

"C, it's just us, you can call me mom."

“I—ah… I don't think so. I don’t think I am there yet.” he responded, the situation was awkward enough without her making things worse between them.

“Very well. I am sure you are wondering why I brought you here today…alone.” she began. His ears perked up and his full attention was now on whatever words she would speak next.

“I am—even more so why you called this meeting in secret with no other clergy, or Astrid to be—”

“It concerns Astrid.” she explained, again cutting him off. Copia swallowed back. Whatever this was, it was not going to be good.

“C are you aware of how the Prime Mover ritual is performed?” she asked him as she went to sit down at her desk. Scooting herself closer and closer until she was seated against the edge. 

“I assumed that I would be versed in it, you know when the time came. I imagine it is something like a wedding ceremony or handfasting?” Copia guessed, confused more now that it seemed like there was something he hadn’t caught on to?

“It is…for the most part.”

“What do you mean?” he asked her, noticing the way her words began trailing off. HIs suspicions confirmed—something was still being left unsaid.

“There is a consummation portion of the ritual.” 

There it is, he thought to himself. They expected for the two of them to have intercourse. An act meant to prove their bond to Lucifer during the ritual. It made sense, and had the situation been different, Copia would have been all too happy to make love to Astrid. The two of them, a blissful tangle of limbs upon the altar—in front of the whole of the chapel.

But it wasn’t a different situation. Though it killed him inside, Astrid no more wanted to be there than a fly wants to be tangled in a spider’s web. She felt trapped and Copia knew it. Although things had softened between them, it was not the same as her being in love. He was however, without a doubt—in love.

Head over heels in fact and had been for the longest time. The way they were forced to spend more and more time together as of late, had only solidified his feelings for her. He wished beyond measure that she’d somehow feel the same. That she would long for him in the night when they returned to their separate quarters. Both of them, yearning to become one in Lucifer’s name—but he knew she didn’t. 

“I see.” was all he could reply. Copia stood up from his chair, taking a moment to straight out his vest before taking his leave. His heart, heavy with the thought of telling Astrid what he’d learned. 

“C, I tell you this in private…so you can tell her in private. I don’t want her making another scene.” Sister Imperator explained. Copia wasn’t sure why she had bothered. Her intentions were obvious from the beginning, the Ministry didn’t want Astrid to act as if she was being forced—even though she most certainly was. Astrid had already been all but completely secluded from the other siblings and, as far as anyone was allowed to know, she was living the dream. Only the Ministry and the two of them, knowing the truth—this arrangement was a nightmare for her. Far from the things she’d dreamed of.

“I will handle it.” he assured her as he left the office. Pain clutching his heart in his chest. The heartbroken Papa guys telling him what this might force Astrid to do. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He found her easily enough in the cloister. Looking more like herself today, hair thrown up in a loose bun, sans the veil, and body adorned in a black wrap dress. Sitting alone on a bench at the far end of the southern flank. A sketchbook and pencil in hand, and a look of concentration on her face. 

“It is looking really good so far cara, you really do have quite the talent.” Copia said as he came to sit beside her. She was ferociously sketching. Her tongue, sticking out a bit at the corner of her mouth as she stared intently on the page. Creating the figure of a woman that was laid across what appeared to be a beach. Woman's face, drawn with an intense look of desire. Copia wondered if Astrid would draw her creation a lover—someone to attribute such a look. His mind unable to help thinking about what other desires of Astrid’s she may choose to put to paper. 

“Thank you Papa.” she responded with a small smile. Smudging the lines of her work to create depth and shadow. “Everything alright? I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning.” 

“Ah si, everything is alright.” he told her, though Astrid could tell he was lying. The more time she spent with him the more she could see his tells–Copia was hiding something. 

“Copia, what is it?” she asked, closing up her sketchbook and turning to face him. He was nervous and the anxiety building inside him was clear in his demeanor. Copia struggled finding the words. After everything that had happened between them, he knew this news would set things back. Now that he had captured her attention, he knew he had no choice but to confess. 

“I was with Sister Imperator for a meeting this morning.” Copia began, a grimace painting his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I miss it? Was I supposed to be there? I don’t remember hearing anything about it.” Astrid responded, trying to remember. She had been so distracted with her own thoughts and feelings; it wouldn’t have taken much for her to have missed something. 

“Oh no…no. I was to come alone.”

“Oh…”

“Cara…at the Prime Mover ritual—we are to consummate our union.” Copia told her, his voice cracking all through the words. Astrid exhaled; she knew this was hard for him. It would have been devastating for her had she not been expecting it the whole time. The quiet of her response, telling Copia everything he needed to know. 

“I figured that.” 

“I don't know what to say. I know this isn't something you want.” he continued, hoping—praying that she’d correct him.

“I honestly don’t know what I want.” she said, her eyes falling to her lap. Now that was a surprise. Copia placed his hand on her shoulder and Astrid looked up at him. A hint of tears in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I thought I wanted to travel. To see the world—to do something else with my life. Now I just feel confused.” she admitted. 

She was confused. At first this arrangement with Copia felt like a death sentence. Her freedom stripped away so that she might be not much more than Papal breeding cattle. The night on the balcony, however, had changed things. Only to change even more so that night in his suite. 

She had begun to see him in a different light. It was more than just finding herself laughing at his jokes during meetings and having genuine interest in what he had to say. She found herself caring for him. So much so that she dared not to utter aloud what kinds of thoughts she entertained when she was alone at night.

“I will give you some space.” Copia said, rising up from the bench, “See you tonight at Mass?” 

“Sure.” Astrid replied, watching as he walked away, leaving her alone in the cloister. She wondered if he knew. If he could see that she had developed feelings for him. Or, more importantly, that she had made up her mind. 

This thing was new and scary—and she couldn't be sure of it. Astrid knew If she didn’t leave that night, she would be trapped. Her choices stripped away, and her fate sealed. There was no other way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Copia knew the moment he left her in the cloister something felt different. Hints hidden in plain sight, slowly beginning to make themselves known. He realized he had felt it before—seen it in Astrid looked at him, the way their hands met on instinct during the meeting. Even more so when he had her alone in his suite. 

His hopes brewing beneath the surface that maybe…just maybe she had felt something for him too. There was also the hint of something else. Like the after bitter taste of poison, concealed in a drink. The thought of it made Copia’s heart break. 

Something told him that tonight she would leave. He stood up straight and puffed out his chest as he walked back to the office. Passing the siblings with a carefully hung smile on his face. Determined that he would have one last try before she left—-never to be seen again. 

Astrid sat inconspicuously in her spot on the front aisle of pews. Her leg, bouncing as the rest of the congregation filed in behind her. Her hymnal, sticky with the grip of her clammy hands. She tried her best to avoid looking at it. The carefully tucked away duffle bag that was wedged beneath the statue of Beelzebub and the tabernacle that was surely full of sacramental wine.  

As Primo’s sermon continued the urge grew stronger. A cold sweat hit her, tracing the line of her spine as she tried to regain her composure. She had made the mistake not once but twice of raising her gaze to Copia. Sitting along with the other Papa’s in the sanctuary. His smile tearing away at her resolve as she forced one back at him. 

It pained her to hurt him like this. She imagined that no one would miss her much besides him. Her so-called friends hadn’t given her much credence since her Prime Movership was announced. Most of them, insanely jealous of her coveted position. Maybe he’d find happiness with one of them when she was gone. 

It’s for the best, she thought, I will be out of here before anyone is the wiser. Thank you dad for the help…though I could really use your advice right now. Astrid began to tear up. Finding her thoughts returning to the present moment as the sermon that had reached its completion.   

“And we sin in his name. Nema!” Primo called out, his hands raised up at his sides. The crowd, returning his call. She would leave and start a new someplace else. Bringing with her only a few changes of clothes, some cash, and thankfully her key to a safe deposit box her father had left for her before he passed. Astrid assured that she had something to live off of until she could get back on her feet. 

She waited patiently for the room to clear, the Papas leaving first with the exception of Primo who would pick up after mass, the rest of the congregation leaving their pews and heading out the doors. Astrid watched Copia leave, seemingly deep in conversation with Terzo. Finally, a single tear escaped her eye as she wondered if it would be the last time she saw him. 

When she thought she would not be noticed, she laid flat along the pew. Hiding herself from view as everyone left. It wasn’t long before Primo had finished tidying up the chapel. Collecting the spent incense and blowing out the candles before also taking his leave. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When she heard the doors close behind him, Astrid rose up. Quickly making her way to her secret stash, pulling the duffle bag out, and dropping on a knee before the large Grucifix in the center of the sanctuary. A small prayer made to Lucifer before she’d head out through the back door of the sacristy. Lucifer, most unholy and brightest of stars, please give me the strength to do what it is I need to do. Guide me to the life I need to be happy and free. I beg of you to show me mercy, your loyal and devout sister…Nema, she prayed, performing the sign of the cross of St. Peter before getting up off her knee.    

She walked to the sacristy, opening the door and passing the collection of texts and well used candles that lined the shelves. The faint hint of frankincense in the air. Astrid, careful to not disturb anything that would leave a trace of her behind. She took in a deep breath and reached for the door—this was it. 

“Is that all you are bringing with you sorella?” Copia asked, watching as Astrid slowly let her hand slide from the knob of the back door. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he could hear the heavy sigh as it left her chest.  

“Papa, I don’t think I should stay.” she spoke, her back still to Copia. Both of them standing alone in the small sacristy. 

“Come on cara, talk to me. Where are you going, please just look at me.” Copia begged. 

“I just—”

“Goddamn it Astrid, will you just look at me?!” Copia yelled through gritted teeth, the tears welling up within his eyes. Astrid finally turned to face him. Her face filled with pain and eyes widening as she saw the look on Copia’s face. His own sorrow was unable to be contained. 

“OK.” she agreed as she swallowed back her emotions. Trying desperately to pull herself together. To stop him from seeing her fall apart. 

“I—I never asked for this either, you know? A life that's not my own.” he cried. 

“I know…” 

“If I am to be honest Astrid, I’m not sure you could call what I had before a ‘life’.” Copia continued, pouring his heart out before her, “Don’t you think I know that you don't love me. That you’d rather be anywhere but here—fuck.” he asked her as his voice trembled. Struggling to get out the words. “I can see in your eyes how it pains you to stay here. To listen to my endless droning on about my rats or about my obsessions with things, of which you hold no value…but I love you anyway. I love you enough to let you go. I…I can’t bear to think of you having to suffer beside me. 

“Copia I—” 

“Don’t…Don’t placate me sorella. I know where I stand. After all, what grace have I to expect someone like you to feel anything…for someone like me.” He hissed as he turned to face away. His heart ripped from his chest and laid bare before her—bloodied and bruised. Astrid felt it too. The ache, settling in her chest having seen Copia so distraught. 

She could hear him, trying his best to stop his tears. Sniffling and clearing his throat, as he left the sacristy and headed back into the chapel. Prepared to walk away and leave Astrid on her own. Then suddenly she lost her control. An unexplainable urge, but stronger than anything she had ever known.

“Copia! Wait!” she called as she ran down the nave. Copia stopped dead in his tracks and turned around to see Astrid charging towards him. She scooped his face up in her palms and pressed her lips tightly against his. Her eyes, closing to the feel of them. 

Copia’s eyes widened, before closing he pressed his lips against her. Tongue brought into her mouth to find her awaiting him. He wrapped his arms around her, his starved mouth tasting her, relishing her. Hands entangled in her midnight-colored hair. Copia and Astrid, both forgetting everything around them but the way their lips melted together for the first time.