#and he was like oh i'm not asking you to be an opera singer don't worry! and i said. oh haha well i used to be. but it was... different

[unionizedwizard]

every day i listen to some obscure 70's rock ripped straight from a super rare vinyl by a 68 years old guy with a youtube channel who's from greece or germany or serbia and Every Single Time, it's got a Very Obviously Baroque Pattern going on during one of the 12 minutes long songs, at which point my ears perk up like a dog who just heard the word "walk" or perhaps "treat"

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // prologue

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 0.8k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi! welcome to the prologue for requiem!! just a taste to set things up :) sorry !!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

'Are you coming to the zoo after class?' The note Coryo slid in front of you asks. You look up at him and nod, before taking your pen and scribbling underneath his penwork on the same page, sliding it back as your teacher went on and on about things you had already studied and knew by heart.

'Walk together?'

Now it's his turn to nod, meeting your gaze with a smile.

You hadn't had the chance to meet your tribute yet, but Coryo's idea to go and greet his tribute was very smart. You admired it- he was brave to do that, but something deep in the back of your chest made you uneasy about it. Regardless, you and several of your classmates would make the trip after school to go greet them, bring them food, and get to know them as much as you could. You part ways with him once you arrive, planning to walk home together later.

"Valkyrie?" You call out, scanning the tributes trapped in the cage to try and pinpoint her. You see her when her head turns at the name and you smile, waving her over. "My name is Y/N. I'll be your mentor."

She doesn't say anything as she stops in front of you, giving you a death glare that could give you chills. She looked strong. It was good, she'll do well in the games. "It's nice to meet you," you continue. "My job is to help you however I can. So anything you need or want, I'm your girl. Just say the word."

Her cold stare doesn't falter, but you try not to let your discomfort show. You need her to trust you, that was Coryo's best advice, so you would do all you could to take it. "Are you hungry? You must be. I brought you some food." You don't wait for a response that you know isn't coming, digging in your bag already.

"It's my favorite, but I do hope you like it." You hum, pulling out a container with some crackers and honey, and a lemon to cut up and put in your water bottles. "Care to sit?" You offer, already sitting down yourself, kneeling in front of the bars. You smile when she obliges, matching your posture across from you.

"I'm a singer, and honey is really good for the throat." You explain, hoping that she'll begin to trust you if she knows you a little better. "It's a nice bonus that it tastes good, too. I'm not supposed to have sugar, but I think honey is the next best thing." You open the container, trying not to expose the shakiness in your hands as you grab the small bowl of honey and a knife to spread it, but this fails drastically when you accidentally drop it and it falls past the bars just out of your reach.

"Oh, gosh- I'm just so clumsy, would you mind passing that to me?" You ask, trying to reach for it anyway. You grin when she reaches out for it, picking it up by the handle. "Thank you..." You tell her, leaning closer to grab it from her hand. Something in her eyes shifts so fast you have no chance to really pick up on it before she grabs your hair with her other hand and pulls you back into the bars.

You scream, adrenaline pumping through your veins in an instant as you try and pull yourself away but it's too late and your screams are silenced by the blade of the knife against your throat.

Your eyes go wide as she lets you go, hands coming up to your neck out of instinct and when you pull one away it's warm and covered in red. Blood. Your own blood. You're choking, trying to breathe but the air feels sticky as you fall back. "Y/N! Y/N? Hey, look at me. Look at me!" Your best friend cries out, suddenly in front of you with his arms at your sides, lowering you carefully to the ground.

You stare up at him, hands still clasped over your neck which he matches with his own, doing his best to try and stop the bleeding. "Help! Somebody, help!" He shouts, turning and hoping help is coming as your heartbeat drums behind your ears.

Several gunshots ring out, echoing in the back of your head as you stare up at the sky and Coryo drops down on top of you, likely trying to dodge the bullets. You don't know where they were going- and you don't care.

You try and speak but no sound is coming out, just the sickening gurgle of your own blood replacing the smoothness of your voice. You know it's really not good when your vision starts to blur, the last thing you see being Coryo's panicked expression as he looks over you, desperately yelling at you to stay awake and for someone to please, please help.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[purplecoffee13]

‘Paranoid’* - Thin Lines Pt 5

“All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy…” - Paranoid by Black Sabbath

Summary: “You go on a date with someone new, but Harry doesn’t approve.”

Wc: 4K (more or less)

Tropes: rockstar!harry x opera singer!mc

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, harry being a dick, angst, fighting

A/N: hey, here is the new update for thin lines! Although you may think it from the way this part ends, it is NOT the end! We still have one part to go…🤭

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

You observed yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to try and stabilize the nerves you had been feeling all day. You were wearing a short black dress, paired with some Mary Jane's that you had walked on just enough for them not to kill your feet after five minutes anymore.

Jake had taken you to a beautiful fancy restaurant, and he had looked dashing in his suit. You were so incredibly nervous that before you even had the chance to order drinks you had excused yourself and fled to the bathroom.

This was your first official, proper date ever, and you had no idea how to act. Locking eyes with yourself one last time, you took a deep breath and mentally told yourself to get your fucking shit together before heading out there again.

By the time you came back, Jake had already ordered drinks for the two of you. An ice bucket containing a bottle of white wine stood next to the table, and you whispered a 'thank you' as he poured you some while you sat down across from him.

"Thanks." You said softly.

"No problem. The menu's are on their way." He responded, putting the wine bottle back in the bucket and taking a deep breath as he turned his full attention to you.

"So,"

"So..." You repeated your date, a soft chuckle falling from both of your lips. You were glad to not be the only one for whom this was quite intimidating.

"Start with the basic questions?" Jake proposed, an awkward golden retriever like smile on his face. You nodded in agreement, and waited as Jake thought of a question.

"Got any siblings?"

"Two step-brothers." You replied. Jake's brow quirks up. "But I hardly ever see them."

"Oh, does that not bother you?" He asked, genuine concern coating his words. You shrug.

"God no, if anything I'm thankful for it." You joked, but Jake didn't seem to find it funny.

"You wouldn't like a big family, then?"

Wow, wow, wow.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and unsure of what to say. How had this conversation steered towards planning a family so soon?

"I— I don't know. I've never had a very big family, it was always just me and my parents. When they divorced, and my mom re-married, it was a lot. I mean, going from being an only child to two step-brothers... it's a lot of noise. But I only lived with them for two years before moving to LA, so I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, a bit weirded out about how invested Jake seemed to be in this. Harry would've found your joke funny; he doesn't take everything so seriously.

Wait, you shouldn't be thinking about Harry! You were on a date with Jake to forget about Harry, for God's sake. You needed to focus on your date.

And so you did, all throughout dinner you fixate your eyes on the man in front of you and tried to list all the reason why you could go on a second date with him. But unintentionally, you also compared him to Harry in every possible aspect.

Jake was sweet, but there was a lack of initiative. You found yourself disappointed at his replies, knowing Harry would've matched your wit, or understood what you were trying to say. By the time the main dish was being taken away, you were a bit tired. It felt like you have to put in a lot of effort into an attempt at a connection with this guy, especially when you knew how easy it was to have such a connection right off the bat.

You thought you must've been hallucinating when you saw a shadow that looked an awful lot like Harry pass by the window, and it made you realize how much he had been floating in your head. You weren't being fair to Jake, so you decided to round off this date as soon as possible.

"Want dessert?"

"No I'm okay, thank you." You smiled at him.

"Okay, then I'll get the check." He announced.

"We can split, if you want to." You offered, but Jake was quick to shake his head.

"Absolutely not, my treat." He assured you. Cheeks flushed, you nodded, and turned your head to look at the hallway where the restrooms are.

"D'you mind if I go to the restroom then, before we go? I see there's a bit of a line, so I could also go later if you prefer." You pointed to the hallway where about five women were waiting to enter the toilet, but Jake shrugged.

"Go, it's fine, I'll bring the car around. It's parked a bit further away so if I get it now you won't have to walk all the way there in those heels of yours." He suggested, to which you nodded. Grabbing your purse and jacket, you made your way over to the line of women. Surprisingly enough, you only had to wait a minute before it was your turn to go to the bathroom, and in two minutes you were on your way to the front door of the restaurant again.

That was until you were snatched away by someone's hand.

There was not even a possibility to shriek, as your mouth was covered in the first second that you were grabbed and pulled into a coat room. It was only when you got turned around, and spotted Harry's face in the vague light, that you weren't scared for your life anymore. You pulled his hand off your mouth, attempting to push him away from you.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?!" You shout-whispered, heart still pounding. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, but your anxiety from the sudden capture was slowly fading.

"I think that is a better fit question for me to ask you." He growled, pushing you against the wall between the racks full of coat hangers. You looked around you, hearing the mingling people in the restaurant, and realized that there was probably someone working here only a few feet away. "What the fuck are you doing having dinner with some random fucking guy?"

"I'm on a date!" You answered, frustrated with the fact that he was being so uptight about this.

"Yeah, and why the fuck would you do that?!" He hissed, knitted brows displaying the irritation that simultaneously showed in his tight grip on your waist. His hot breath fanning against your ear caused a totally different tension to arise in your stomach.

"Because I'm single, Harry!"

That shut him up. His face softened, and it was hard not to allow your heart to break into pieces as you witnessed that realization dawn on him. You didn't say anything as his eyes averted from you, digesting your words for a couple of seconds. And while the sound of glasses and utensils clinking against each other felt like a meteoric sting in your ears, there didn't seem to be a more deafening silence than this one.

What you didn't expect him to do was lean forward and kiss you, nor did you expect to go along with it so easily. However, at this point you shouldn't have been surprised; Harry turned your body and mind into jelly. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it was bad, but it excited the hell out of you.

The sole thought of Harry being so jealous that he found the restaurant where you were having a date, and pulled you into the coat room to kiss you, had surged an army of butterflies to fly around in your stomach. Something, which you were aware, was absolutely not a proper and healthy reaction to a situation like this. But somehow... Harry made it hot.

And while you didn't like to admit it, you knew that the reason for that was because a part of you hoped that he would do this. You had secretly prayed in the back of your mind that he would come and get you once he realized you were something he could lose. And the fact that he was here now, kissing you and taking his hands all over your body made your cunt ache.

As if he was reading your mind—which you were quite sure at this point he was seriously capable of to some extent—he pulled up your dress and signaled for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He unbuttoned his pants, and you obeyed his wishes immediately, not wanting to waste any time. The fact that he was so incredibly hard only made you more enthusiastic. It was so wrong to have sex with Harry in the coat room while your date was outside waiting for you. Everything involving Harry was wrong... and that's what made it feel so fucking good.

"So wet for me, as always." He whispered into your ear as he entered you in one go. Your mouth hung open and a gasp left your lips, but you managed to keep quiet. The loudest sound was that of his dick thrusting into your wet pussy, with the two of you managing to stay at a surprisingly low volume.

You grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and closed your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure of him driving into you. The sound of footsteps and a coat hanger moving on a rack a few meters away had you squeezing Harry's shoulder. Instead of slowing down like a normal person would do, he took it as the perfect moment to pick up the speed and attach one of his fingers to your clit.

If it wasn't for the quickness of your hand that slapped over your own mouth, you would've moaned so loud that the entire restaurant probably would've heard. There was no time to glare at him, seeing as the pleasure of this devious act was getting all of your attention at the moment. Harry just smirked at you, leaning forward so his lips were next to your ear.

"If it were up to me, I'd have you take that pretty little hand off your mouth and let the entire restaurant hear how good I'm fucking you." He uttered, and you bit your lip to stifle any more moans that were threatening to escape your mouth at any moment.

"Let everyone hear how fucking desperate you are for me, and only me. Because you're mine." The question fell from his lips so confidently, that you didn't think to answer. Harry, displeased with your lack of words, accompanied his words with a hard thrust that had the tiniest whine fall from you lips. Like the devil he was, Harry continued the deep thrusts, edging you guys closer to getting caught. "Aren't you?"

Not daring to open your mouth fueled by the fear of being too loud and getting caught, you showed that you agreed with him by nodding profusely. You squeezed y(our eyes shut, a tear rolling down your cheek as you tried not to pass out from Harry's dick impaling your soaking wet pussy.

"You can say you're single all you want, but this sweet cunt belongs to me. Never had anything like me, and you never will. Can try as much as you want, but you'll always circle back to me." Harry grunted lowly, nails digging further into your skin. His thrusts became more aggressive, bringing you far closer to the edge in a record time.

"You're mine, like it or not."

You must have been sick in the head for that sentence to be the last straw. Because before you knew it, you were entirely falling apart around him. Harry had to put his lips on yours to muffle the sounds that kept coming out of your mouth as you cried and came around his cock. Your hands clamped onto his frame, trying to hold on in the way your legs couldn't.

The consistent clenching of your core around his cock had Harry follow soon after. He refrained himself from making too much noise by burying his head into your neck and softly biting on your skin as he filled you up with his seed. He stayed still inside of you, holding your legs up as you both took a few seconds to come down from your orgasm.

After slowly pulling his cock out of you, Harry put on your underwear quickly. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Keep it inside of you." He ordered, causing you to frown at him.

"Harry, I'm on a d—" you tried to protest, but Harry quickly slapped his hand around your mouth again.

"I don't want to fucking hear it. It wasn't a question. Now, shut up, and do as I say."

Your widened eyes betrayed your underestimation of Harry. Of course, you wanted him to be jealous, but there was a part of you that still thought that he was only playing into the jealousy in a solely sexual sense. Nevertheless, you were too stunned to argue, so you nodded.

Adjusting your dress, you wiped your eyes to rid of the tear stains that had probably appeared in the last minutes. It was hard to stand, your head still misty from the spontaneous coat room sex.

"Go reject him." He demanded as he watched you put on your coat. You stopped in your tracks, your mouth falling open and your head shaking.

"I'm not going to reject him just because—"

"I don't think I posed that as a question either, love." His stern voice intercepted you once again. Your entire brain stopped and had to re-wire at the mention of that nickname, and you were sure it was the only reason you agreed.

With a heavy heart and a fluttering stomach you walked out of the restaurant, nearing Jake's car which was right in front of the door. It felt wrong to smile at him after what you had just done, and it dawned on you; you had become a horrible person. That self-made conclusion stirred you up so bad that you felt you could throw up, and it made you refuse to step into that car. Jake didn't deserve that.

He stepped out of the car, wanting to escort you to the passenger seat, but you stopped him. The grip on his arm made him turn back around, confusion written all over his face.

"I... Thank you so much for the lovely dinner, I really appreciate it. But—"

"But you're rejecting me." He filled in the blanks for you, leaving you speechless for a short second. You nodded slowly, and were grateful to see an empathic smile appearing on Jake's face. "Already? I haven't even given you a ride home yet."

You both chuckled at his joke, and as it died down, you tried to find his eyes. "I really did have a fun tonight, so thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess?" He stifled a laugh. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm okay, really. I live very close anyway."

Jake nodded, and you said your goodbyes to him. You felt like a dickhead, and the fact that he had taken it so well had only made your guilt worse. It was horrible to watch him drive away, and Harry's approving voice from behind you didn't make you feel better either.

"Good girl, knew you'd listen."

You turned around, a look of pure thunder on your face as your eyes met Harry's. You stepped closer to him, pace picking up with every step.

"Get out of my face." You sneered, walking past him and down the street back towards your apartment. You heard Harry's footsteps start to follow you, and while that granted you a bit of satisfaction, it didn't fade the anger towards him or yourself in the slightest bit.

"Sweetheart—"

"Fuck you." You spat out, annoyed with the amount of impact of his nicknames for you had on you and your body.

"What the fuck happened? You were fine ten minutes ago." Harry called out, still walking a meter behind you. His words made you stop in your tracks, turning around to face him.

"What happened is that I realized what a horrible fucking person I've become, Harry! I just had sex with another guy while I was on a date with someone, that is so not okay!" You snapped. You took a deep breath, awaiting Harry's reaction, but he only stared at you. You couldn't quite make up anything specific from the manner in which he was observing you, but it for sure made you squirm.

“I’m not just some other guy.” He argued, distaste in the tone of his voice. He didn’t like the way it sounded so disposable.

“That doesn’t matter! It’s still a shitty thing to do… and I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair.

Silence took over the conversation. It was hard to look at Harry, you almost didn't dare to. There was a big part of you that never wanted this fling with him to end, but after tonight, you realized it was the only way to build up something new. You had gotten into this thing to distract yourself from the guy you were in love with, but now that you had finally seen the light and were far into the process of moving on, it seemed like it didn't serve much of a purpose anymore.

Besides, ever since that last hook-up, you weren't sure for how long it could stay casual before you'd start to develop feelings for this man. And that was something that absolutely couldn't happen.

“Harry, I am looking for something serious. You can’t give that to me, because you don’t want to, so I need to end this.” You explained, trying to search his gaze but he was making it impossible for you to look him in the eyes as he was furiously shaking his head.

“Why are you acting like you’re ending a relationship? We’re not in one.”

“Says the person who pushed me into a coat room because he was jealous.” You crossed your arms, seeing right through his bullshit and the dumb wall he’s putting up.

"Well… I don't like seeing you with other people." Was the only thing that fell from Harry's lips. His furrowed brows revealing the confusion that lingered in the delivery of the words as well. He wasn't sure of how to express what he was feeling, but the vagueness of the words he did communicate wasn't improving this situation at all.

“That’s very boyfriend material of you.” You tried to joke, a small smile forming on your lips. Harry’s mouth quirked up as well despite the frown on his face.

“I am not boyfriend material.” He chuckled.

"I know, it’s why I’m not even considering asking you to be something like that. I know you wouldn’t want to. " You smiled, and Harry nodded. His eyes were clearer now and it wasn’t as hard for him to look you in the eyes anymore.

“Alright.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Like there was nothing left to do about it. That this was it, in the blink of an eye, and that it was all concluded with a simple shrug of the shoulders.

It made your heart sting, but upon feeling it you knew that you had made the right decision. If you hadn’t ended it now, that sting would’ve developed into full grown heart ache, and Harry was the wrong person to develop that for.

“Alright.” You repeated, looking for some sort of doubt in his eyes, but there seemed to be none. So you let it rest. Turning your attention to the street, you flagged down a cab.

“I’m going home, I’ll see you around?”

“I can take you home, you know, you don’t have to take a cab.” Harry offered, but you were quick to shake your head.

“No, that would be too boyfriend-like of you.” You grinned, and Harry sighed at your attempt at a joke. You opened the door of the cab.

“Fine. See you around.” He put his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the front of the cab. He tapped on the window where your taxi driver was sitting and handed him some money, too much for a single short cab ride. He told the taxi driver to keep it, as long as he’d bring you home safe. The driver, a kind man from what you’d gathered so far, thanked Harry and assured him that he would do his job.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the backseat, meeting yours one last time, and threw a wink at you. You felt inclined to roll your eyes, but you didn’t, the moment feeling a bit too sentimental to bash Harry for winking at you. It was the last time you were seeing him, being what you two were, and it made you kind of melancholic. Nevertheless, you reminded yourself it was for the better. Besides, you were sure you’d see him around…

Taglist: @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @sassamanda77

[the-blossica-fan]

your actor au is a joy to read through whenever you post in the tag. may i ask which characters would surprisingly be related to each other? (ie cousins, siblings, married, hell even in-laws, etc.)

I accidentally lost all three hours of progress I had for this and had to rewrite it.

Also, I'm so happy you're enjoying the AU!

These are all I can remember at the moment and from current global patches.

It's really long though 😓

Isolde, Theophil and Trista are some of the weirdest siblings in the set. They're all so quiet (except for Theophil) but they're actual sweethearts (except Trista).

They mess around with each other, usual siblings banter and annoying each other by taking things without permission. It's always nice to see them bantering around in the set, especially when they act like annoying siblings to each other.

Isolde: Theopiiiilll, you're painting it wrong!

Theophil: Those are just guide lines, Isolde. I can paint out of them because they're not going to be seen after.

Isolde: ...It looks messy

Theophil: Isolde!

Trista taking a sip of her apple juice: So this must be art...

They're all so close to each other so they're not toxic or malevolent to one another. Mess with one and you get the Dittarsdorf on your door.

Trista is actually the most evil of the three because she's the youngest. She has threatened to tell Klara about Isolde's crush on her if Isolde doesn't give her what she wants.

Isolde and Trista were cast for their respective characters. Isolde's experience as a performer and Opera Singer guaranteed her the role, while Trista was left to play herself and young Isolde. Theophil wasn't supposed to be a character until they realized they needed someone to appear in later scenes, he was actually hired to paint and help with the scenery.

Greta and Adler Hoffman are not close siblings, but you know that they're sister and brother by a glance. They both lived their own lives separately, nearly 40 years old so they're not so close to one another, but you can tell they still care for each other. When young they took acting classes, who would have thought it would get them here.

Though this is the only time they have worked together. Greta has always been into field work and connections while Adler has never been that into interactions so he works inside his house.

Schneider and Miriam are actually funny siblings. Schneider was cast for chapter 1 and 2, and since their mother is sick, Miriam had to drive her to the audition (Schneider doesn't have a license).

Turns out looking like you sleep 3 hours a day and having such an anxious personality got her a role. Quite funny actually. Miriam took acting classes but then dropped, too anxious. Schneider persisted through the years.

Miriam is actually glad to act with her sister, she's the introverted one while Schneider is the extroverted one.

Though, Schneider likes to mess around with Miriam a lot, she's slightly evil but truly cares about her anxiety driven sister.

They have another older sister but she's into medicine, they don't have that many sisters, they found it funny when they were told they had 11 sisters in the story. Thankfully only the two of them were ever mentioned.

Horropedia and Twins Sleep, can you see my vision?

They mess around a lot with Horropedia, sometimes they spook him by acting creepy, other times they take his stuff. They're in that age where they follow him around and copy him, he's so annoyed.

Horropedia: I'm currently busy with homework, could you get out of my room?

Louis and Louisa: *giggling* nuh-uh!

Horropedia: I'm going to call mom.

He truly cares for them but oh Lord they truly have to leave him alone, he's so tired of dealing with their mischief.

They were cast separately, weeks apart thankfully. He wouldn't have been able to take it if they were cast the same day.

Bessmert and Vertin, mother and daughter. I'm not sure if this is canon or is about to become canon, I just see them together.

Vertin has always been into acting, and Bessmert is a writer, they compliment each other a lot. Bessmert was hired to help with the script and since she has a daughter studying acting, they wanted to see what she could do.

Amazing actress, they knew she had to be their main character.

Bessmert's acting experience is quite nothing so she had to learn in order to participate in 1.6, she did amazing, her acting style is similar to her daughter.

No one should tell Vertin about Yenisei's fleeting crush on her mother.

Regulus: So you have a mother!

Vertin: ...

Bessmert: ?

Mr. Karson is Sotheby's father. In the story, he plays as her butler, but in real life, he's her father. Sotheby has no siblings, she's a little spoiled as well but she was taught well by Karson.

Filming the scene where Karson died was actually pretty sad for Sotheby. It made her realize she would one day lose him and she was afraid, they had to give her some free time in between scenes so she could recover.

It's never easy for a child to realize they would one day lose their parents, but Sotheby took it pretty well. She manages to recover and Karson stays by her side the whole time.

They have such a good relationship. Though Mr. Karson doesn't approve of Regulus' influence.

Tooth Fairy and Z are MARRIED. It's a long story, it deserves its own ask but I'll try to make it short.

Tooth Fairy and Z have known each other since highschool, not a great relationship there, but it started to flourish around College. They've been married for a year and a half now.

Though they were never meant to be acting, Constantine offered them a role. Turns out they're natural in the acting department, though they would never act outside of Reverse 1999. Tooth Fairy (yes she adores that nickname now) is a graduate in medicine while Madam Z (She prefers to be called Z even before R1999) is a graduate in accounting and economics.

Pavia and Mondlicht are cousins! They haven't seen each other in a while though, Pavia was raised in Italy while Mondlicht was born in Germany years after. They see each other on birthdays or something of the sort.

Imagine their surprise when they saw each other in the same set for the same movie with similar characters.

Was it planned? Probably.

Blonney and Jessica have known each other since highschool and have been dating for 3 years. Jessica is two years older than Blonney (22) but she was held two years, it was thanks to Blonney that she graduated.

They're currently in College, though taking different careers. One is taking Filmmaking (Blonney) and the other is taking acting (Jessica)

Blonney plans to become a filmmaker with a side career in acting while Jessica plans to only be an actress. It works though, they can play as each other's couple in all movies they're in.

Kakania (Goes by her name, Klara) doesn't have siblings, she's actually an only child. Her parents are family all took medicine, accounting, economics and such, she's the only one who chose to be an actress.

The people who play as her family were cast to play that part, though she gets along with them really well since she still has to spend some time to get used to each other and act like family.

She took acting as a side study while taking medicine, she had to drop medicine eventually since she couldn't find enjoyment in it.

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

I Cannot Breath (So I Must Sing): Prologue

Alastor X Fem Opera Singer Reader

Series Masterlist

(Fair warning before we start, I'm used to writing for fandoms of like 12 to 30 people, so grace my darlings is all I ask)

The rapping on the door woke Alastor out of his daze. An involuntary huff leaving his lips before he beckoned the disrupter into his office. The whole of the radio station knew he was not to be disturbed if the door was closed. Meaning the fool on the other side was either from the outside or stupid.  

“What’s the word Al?”  

Both, Mickey was both stupid and not an employee. He was an unfortunate drinking buddy of his. Alastor would have preferred that he not see Mickey at all, but they were both regulars at the same club, and Alastor was loath to lose his favorite hunting ground.  

“I don't know my good man” The smile on Alastor's face was tight, his movements stiff from being sedentary too long as he stood up, gesturing for the carrot top to sit. ” You’re the one knocking on my office door.”  

 "I know you’re busy, what with the radio show and the radio drama and all that so I’ll keep this brief”  

‘So, God is merciful after all’ he thought . 

“But I think I gotta real good opportunity for you”  

That was another reason Mickey was still around, despite his annoying tendencies and lack of decorum he was a nice guy. Every time Alastor got half a mind to just kill Mickey and pull the nagging thorn of an acquaintance out of his side, he’d hear wind of the great deeds Mickey did for those around him. A tire change in the middle of the night here, escorting a lady home there, getting some poor downtrodden fellow a job. Mickey would give you the shirt off his back and the shoes off his feet. Given he remembered how to untie the laces.  

A true saint of a man, just a little simple.  

Alastor couldn’t fault him for that.  

“An opportunity?” Mickey was always looking out for those he deemed friends, another one of his kind yet annoying traits.  

“Yeah, you know I have that gig down at the theater? I do handyman work for em sometimes. Well for their new production they got this broad all the way from France over here to open it.” Mickey’s right hand gesticulated as he spoke, while he leaned his left arm against Alastor’s desk. 

“Oh I’m aware, the news has been all a flutter over here at the station. Supposedly she’s quite a big deal in Europe.” A flutter was a bit of an understatement, it was all he practically heard about. He was getting damn near sick of hearing about it. He could appreciate a love for the finer arts, but this was getting ridiculous.  

“Yeah so I was working there the other day and I got to fixing the door on her dressing room. It was leaning and ya couldn’t shut it all the way. See they can’t have any windows open back there so the humidity in the summertime does a number on door frame, not to mention the..” 

“Mickey.” The smooth tin in Alastor’s voice was not reflective of his feelings. This was getting rather tedious rather quickly.  

“Right , right , right so anyway we ended up talking while I was there, and she took a liking to me. So I asked her iffin she’d be up for doing an interview and she said sure! So I figured I’d come down and see if you or one of your colleagues would wanna talk to her on air? Since she’s such a big deal and all. Maybe get some new listeners ya know?”  

“Well well, I must say this is a very good opportunity. What have I done to earn such a gracious offer dear friend.” Oh this was too good. Not only had he been given a ratings hit on a golden platter, he would also get the opportunity to rub it in the faces of all those smug self-righteous bastards who’d been blabbering his ears off the past few weeks.  

Mickey had certainly earned himself a drink, next time they were out together. 

“Ahh it’s nothing! You’re my oldest drinking buddy it’s the least I could do for ya. So should I be expecting you or someone else?”  

“I’ll be taking this one on old friend, you went to so much trouble to get it for me after all” Alastor was not liked by most of his colleagues. While he was certain passing the opportunity on would have put him in their good graces, he didn’t much care if they liked him. Considering the shows he was in were the most popular by far, they'd be better off kissing his ass, not the other way around.  

“Eh like I said don't' t mention it, You free tomorrow? “ 

“As a bird” Alastor had a few things he needed to finish tomorrow, but they could either be done tonight or the day after. He’d make time for this. 

“Okay meet me at the theater at 2 “ 

“I’ll see you there”  

[smoooothoperator]

Save Your Tears

03: Stuck With U

Driver! Mick Schumacher x opera singer! OC (Ophelia Becker)

Strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight, long plane flight, personal drama, opera references

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: turbulences

a/n: New part!! This is special because it's important for both characters. To Ophelia, that finds someone that is intersted on her job, and to Mick, that finds someone that is intersted on his job and not on his name or his fame. Oh, and I make a cameo on the header of this chapter, the picturs on the left side is from last week, I actually performed "Romeo et Juliette" the opera :) (I'm the first one on the stairs starting on the right)

Btw, do you want me to make a playlist? If that's so, what type of music do you want me to add?

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Masterlist

previous part | next part

There was something in him that made her calm. Maybe it was his golden retriever vibes, his blue eyes and smile. Or how his raspy voice sounded when he talked to her. 

She can't understand.

But the moment they first connected their gazes, she felt her own brain shivering. She could feel how her body shook like if a electric shock.

The moment she followed him inside the plane and watched how he stopped in the business seats, she smiled. And when she saw his backpack she just laughed. 

What type of cliche is this?

His smile was something that made her heart be calm. She wanted to be next to him for a while.

"Oh, you two know each other?" the flight attendant asked, looking at them smiling at each other.

"Yeah… we met a while ago" Mick answered for her.

"Oh, love stories in airports are the best" she smiled. "You two look so lovely, have a nice flight"

Ophelia blushed, looking how Mick didn't even deny anything. But wasn't he in love with that girl?

"Well…" she smiled weakly, sitting and looking at her lap.

"Well…" Mick smiled, imitating her. "We are going to be nearly thirteen hours together, so… why don't we get to know each other a little more?"

Ophelia took a deep breath and looked at him, watching how he smiled. His smile hides something, anxiety and fear.

Getting to know someone… How does it even work? Even since she was a little girl, no one wanted to be near her. They always called her the music nerd, the one that couldn't go to the park to play with her classmates because she had to stay at home to practice and study piano, the one that had to skip classes because her mother had to travel to another country to make a concert, the one that had good grades on music class. 

Whenever she tried to make a friend, they always ignored her. 

"We don't like that type of music"

"Nah, that's so classic, so old fashioned"

"What are you, a granny?"

When she started music school, people already knew who she was. Her teachers knew who her mother was. What happens when your mother is famous?

"Hey, can you find me some tickets?"

"Oh, Ophelia. Can you ask your mother if she needs someone to work with her?"

"Ophelia, how is your mom doing? As great as always, eh?"

"Ophelia Becker, you should be doing better, you are the daughter of one of the greatests"

"I was expecting better, knowing who is your mother"

"You would be a disappointment for your mother if you keep doing if this way"

Exactly. They expect nothing but greatness, or a way to be close to her mother.

She always thought that she was better alone, only having the people she needed to work with near: her manager, her pianist and her mother.

But now… she lost one of them. And the most important of them.

Why would she need friends? Maybe contacts that can find her some work and colleagues that would want to work with her or recommend her to other people.

That's how this world works. You can't be friends with anyone because they will always want your work. 

So when someone out of her world asks her to know something about her… how should she react? What should she talk about? She barely knows him… she should say everything?

"W-well… you already know I'm an opera singer" she mumbled, feeling how the palms of her hands were getting sweaty.

"Yeah" Mick nodded. "It's exciting? Like… I don't know. Singing in front of many people… does it make you nervous?"

"Oh, you have no idea" she chuckled. "When I started I didn't have problems with that. It was so natural sitting in the chair in front of the piano"

"You play piano too?" he asked, surprised.

"Y-yeah" she nodded. "But… yeah. Once you get older you see the world with different eyes. You notice how people judge, how… how they see you or talk about you"

"And that made you nervous" he nodded. "Yeah, I know how that feels"

"Really?" she asked, surprised too. 

"Yeah… my work is all about that" he smiled weakly. "You have to be the best out there, perform perfectly and don't make mistakes. Some years ago… well, it wasn't my best season. I had a lot of crashes and it cost a lot of money. I made my team lost a lot of money"

"You had crashes?" she gasped. 

"Yeah, like… two or three" he smiled weakly. "But I was fine. The thing is that my boss wasn't happy because of that and he didn't want me for the next season"

"Oh… I'm sorry" she smiled weakly. 

"Perks of having a father that is a legend of the sport…" he smiled weakly, sadly. 

Ophelia looked at him surprised. He has an important father too? Maybe he understands… No, maybe not. Maybe it's something completely different.

"My mom is important too" she mumbled. Is… was.

"Yeah? That's amazing" he smiled. 

"Mhm" she sighed, nodding slowly.

Amazing? Yeah, sometimes. Unless they use you to get to her.

"So… Romeo and Juliet?" Mick asked, crossing his arms. "And you are Juliet? How is it?"

"Nice" she nodded. "It's actually my debut in opera"

"What? No way!" he gasped. "Where can I watch it? YouTube? It's already posted?"

What is this? Someone interested in her work? Someone interested in her?

"Eh… my manager recorded it" she smiled weakly. "I can ask her if she can send it to me"

"Wait, really? I can watch it?" 

"Of course" she nodded.

She felt weird. Usually she's the only one that watches her own concerts, maybe with her mom so she can tell her what she can improve or what went well. Or even with her manager and pianist, to correct things or to cut them and post them on their social media. 

A stranger, out of the people that goes to see her concerts and only throws praises at her just to get close to her, never asked about watching something like that. Why would they?

"An opera is not like a musical" she mumbled, grabbing her backpack and opening her laptop, searching the file with a recording of the opera. 

"Yeah, I know" he nodded, smiling. 

Ophelia nodded, taking a deep breath. She grabbed her earphones and gave him one of them. Is this how are they going to spend the next three hours? Watching her concert?

"It's in french?" he asked surprised after hearing the first words the choir sang. "You know french?"

"A little, yeah" she nodded. "I sing in different languages"

"Oh that's so cool" he chuckled, paying attention to the screen again. "Oh, that's you!"

She looked at him, blushing. He looks like a kid watching a movie. 

He looks at the screen the way she looked at her mom singing.

"There's no way! You can sing that high? Oh God" he gasped, making her Ile grow a little bit more. "But your speaking voice is so… low? How can you do that?"

"Practice and practice" she smiled.

Mick nodded, smiling, understanding that. To get better he has to practice too. 

He watched the whole opera, clapping silently at her, letting some tears fall in emotional moments, gasping when he saw how she acted as Juliet Capulet.

"You really have a lot of energy" Ophelia joked, making him frown. 

"Is not the first time I heard that" he smiled. "The golden retriever vibes, right?"

"Exactly!" she laughed.

She laughed. For the first time that night, she laughed.

"No, but… it's amazing" he smiled looking at the screen, how the final act of the opera was playing. "You are so good in this, Ophelia"

"Thank you" she smiled, touched by his words.

A little more silence, sharing the earphones while looking how the end of the opera was coming.

Mick watched how the ending was more and more heart whelming, how the acting of Ophelia and the man that acts as Romeo was heartbreaking. He could hear how their voices full of emotions were at the edge of crying. 

Ophelia looked at him, at Mick. She could see how his eyes were getting red, how he started biting his lip trying to not cry. She felt grateful for it, watching how he appreciated something like this and showed it like that.

"Wow" he sighed, sniffling softly and taking off the earphone, then looking at her. "Just… wow"

She chuckled softly, taking off her earphone and blushed. He was amazed, watching her with adoration in his eyes.

"Next time you have a concert just invite me" he asked. "This is… Wow"

She smiled softly, looking at how his blue eyes were wet. It touched her, how he reacted to her singing.

"Just a question" he smiled. "The kisses weren't real? Because, my God! Those seemed pretty real!"

"No, no" she laughed softly. "It's a theater kiss. I kissed under his lips and him above mine. We used our hands to make it look real"

"Oh…" he nodded, impressed, looking at her lips.

Silence again. He scrolled through his phone and she replied to emails. Even if the sears were big, since they were in business, they stayed close. His knee was touching hers and she was leaning on his arm, their shoulders touching.

"Oh, you want to watch one of my races?" he asked, looking at her. 

"What? Yeah!" she smiled. "Of course. But not one where you crash"

"Oh please, I'm not that silly" he chuckled. 

He smiled, looking how she gave him her laptop and he just searched for a race, one he can show and feel proud of himself.

"Here, Canada 2025" he said, placing the laptop back on the table.

Ophelia never watched a race like this. But watching all the action, the cars going fast and watching all the overtakes… it was exciting.

"You drive for Mercedes?" she asked after watching the logo of the brand on his black suit. 

"Yeah" he smiled proudly. "After having that terrible year after losing my seat, the boss of Mercedes talked with me and I became the reserve driver. But now an official driver"

"That's amazing, Mick" she smiled softly. "You deserve it"

He smiled, feeling his chest getting warm, and continued watching the race. 

He remembers how it was. He ended in the points position, but yet so far to touch the podium. He still remembers getting out of the car and watching all his team run towards the fences where the first three drivers parked their cars, cheering for George, sitter of the second place podium. 

But watching her look at the race, how she smiled, following with her eyes the cars and looking to the left searching for him, it touched him so much. 

"Hey, ending in the top ten is good… right?" she asked. "You've got…"

"Six points" he smiled weakly. "In that race I've got six points"

"That's good!" she exclaimed, smiling softly.

They watched the race, until they felt the plane shaking. 

"No, no…" Ophelia mumbled, closing her eyes tightly and holding his hand.

"Hey, Ophelia" he frowned. 

"I can't. I can't die! God, this was such a bad idea. I hate this!"

The levels of joy she reached with him, watching how his smile and adoration towards her made her heart feel warm, was now being changed into fear. 

Fear of falling. Fear of dying. Fear of now seeing her mother one last time. Fear of not being successful as her mother was. Fear of not portraying her last name how she's expected to do. Fear of failing everyone.

"Ophelia!"

Her eyes snapped open, letting her see those blue eyes looking directly at her. He was cupping both of her cheeks to make her look at him.

How can his eyes be so blue? Are those freckles on his cheeks and nose? He has moles… how many?

"Take a deep breath, okay?" he whispered, nodding slowly. "Nothing will happen, yeah? It was just a little turbulence, the plane is alright"

"Okay" she whispered, hearing her own voice being little.

"Do you want to watch a movie to get distracted?" Mick asked, taking his warm palms away from her cheeks and making her sigh.

"Yeah, please" she mumbled. "Which one do you propose?"

"Hm… Cars?" he chuckled. "My dad voiced a character there?"

"Really?"

He could feel she was still shocked, how her voice was so little and how slow she talked. He only nodded, searching the movie on her laptop and placing the earphone on her ear.

When the turbulence started, her hand was holding him so tight that he actually got worried for her. He saw how her eyes were closed tightly and how she prayed in her lower voice, panicking and begging for dear life.

So he stayed close to her. When the movie started, he placed his arm on the armrest between their seats, holding her hand tight and rubbing his thumb on her skin.

There's something on her that makes him want to be close.

"Is that your dad?" she asked when he saw him smile.

"Eh… yeah" he smiled, happy to hear his dad's voice. "Yeah, it's him"

"Michael Schumacher?" Ophelia whispered. 

"Yeah" he nodded, somehow feeling his heart beating fast hearing her say his last name. 

"Mhm" she nodded, getting closer to him and hugging her legs close to her chest.

When the movie ended, both of them were tired, feeling how his eyes were getting swollen because of the need for sleep. 

"I'll go wash my teeth" Ophelia yawned, grabbing her little toilet bag and getting up.

"Y-yeah, I'll go too " he said, doing the same as her.

Both of them walked towards the bathroom of the plane, finding the door locked with someone already inside of it.

Both of them stood there, face to face and close to each other because of the lack of space on the corridor.

"Are you feeling better?" Mick whispered, looking down at her.

They were so close that he could smell her scent, a mix of her perfume and her shampoo: fruits with vanilla.

"Yeah" she whispered, looking up at him.

They were so close that she could smell his scent, even see how his beard was showing a little on his jaw and chin, making her smile. He smells like aftershave and a manly perfume: citric and clean.

Her eyes went to his lips, and somehow she couldn't look away from them. 

He saw her looking at his lips, and he had to fight himself to not lick them and kiss her. They are so close, he only has to lean a little on her and he could just… He reached for her hand, making his fingers touch her rings while he fought against his own desires.

"Eh… the bathroom is free" 

Ophelia gasped softly, taking a step away and looking at the man that got out of the bathroom, blushing and clearing her throat.

"Eh… I'll be quick" she mumbled looking at Mick.

Before he could say something, the door of the bathroom was already locked, making him sigh and mess his hair with his fingers.

"Oh, wow…" he sighed, biting his lips with a small smile.

Ophelia looked at her reflection in the mirror, brushing her teeth and frowning.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered. "God… Stupid, stupid!"

But… she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @lorarri @musingsbyshreya @vellicora

[gr4yk]

Fan-fiction Requests [ OPEN! ]

Hello! I'm Gray, a writer and comic artist with a couple published works. Right now, I'm opening fan-fiction requests! Read the rules below the cut, drop your request in my inbox and I might write it and post it on AO3. Hate it? Welp, no money lost there. Love it? Great! Consider tipping me through Ko-fi! That's all!

An ever-changing list of the media I'm willing to write fics for can be found here.

I'm most likely to write for whatever's in bold. If you don't see a fandom in there but still want to see me write a fic for it, feel free to inbox me asking if I've seen it before sending a request in! Same goes for ships. I've too many things on there to list my ship preferences, so feel free to inquire about those too.

What I WON'T write:

Outright smut. Trust me, I won't do it right. SLIGHT foreplay and fade-to-blacks work fine though.

Pedophilia and Adult/Minor ships, incest, non-con, dub-con and other such bullshit.

Fics for media I'm unfamiliar with.

Anything I'm uncomfortable with.

Mulit-chap fics. ( Unless I feel like it )

What I WILL write:

Shipfics, even for ships I'm not into.

Platonic, familial, antagonistic, queerplatonic relationships and whatever else.

Fics where a character develops in one way or the other.

Fics where a character devolves.

Fix-its. ( Especially for BBC Merlin. )

First and third-person fics ( but third person is preferred ).

Here's a sample of my writing in the form of a quick mini-fic.

She was an Opera Singer. Shoddy but blessed with the luck of a thousand clovers. He was an architect. Top of the line. Designed the very site of their demise. I met them both on the same day. They didn’t seem to know one another and yet the glint in her eyes was so in-tune with his that I first pegged them for lovers.  I’m here to assure you they were certainly not. She had a husband that wasn’t him, and he had a wife that wasn’t her. It just so happened that they were in a similar predicament. Coincidentally. Otherwise there’s no way they would’ve come to me.  I took care of it at a fair price: a couple of dollars and two lifelong friendships. Lifelong for them, that is. My life's still ongoing.  It was throughout the span of that friendship with me that something not particularly favourable had blossomed betwixt them. A ponderable passion. It was nothing sensual or emotional, but maybe spiritual– it was like they were both part of something the rest of the world wasn’t in on.  You know– one day she came up to me and she said something to the effect of... “I wish we’d both just disappear together”  But also without one another.  Her eyes told me the latter bit.  I didn’t expect them to go out like that, though. Definitely not. I didn’t even know she could sew! Oh and with that joint will, too, no less! How ironic.  Somehow, they look happier this way.  But, what do I know, right?  I’m nothing but a humble apothecary, really, nothing more.  That’s all I can tell you — because it’s all I know. So won’t you go on with that marvel of a will now? It’s getting late. 

I'd recommend only tipping after you see the fic just to make sure you didn't send money out for something you don't like. This is also because I reserve the right not to fulfill every single request. So the only way to be sure it'll come through is to wait 'till the fic is up!

[reotacchii]

Hi! I’d love to request headcanon prompts for Gepard x Opera singer girlfriend >:3

Love Like You

✦ ⌜ 001. pairing ⌟ ✦ ⌜ 002. synopsis ⌟ ✦ ⌜ 003. note ⌟

⌗ 001 ⸝⸝・gepard x opera singer f!reader ᵎᵎ

⌗ 002 ⸝⸝・fluff headcanons : united by harmony, voices twisting through song and love ᵎᵎ

⌗ 003 ⸝⸝・quite a decades till I finally back to writing, so i'm truly apologize for the wait :3 ; I totally grind so hard in this game- ᵎᵎ }

Look at you go, I just adore you

I wish that I knew .. What makes you think I'm so special

❤︎ Gepard truly unable to believe to be together with the best Opera singer across the Belobog.

❤︎ Despite that, he'll also treat you similar like the other which is to protect you, but with more gentler approach.

❤︎ Making sure to check upon you every second like, "makes sure to not straining your voices to much" "drink some water before the practice" "don't pressure yourself too much"

❤︎ Whenever you need things, he'll always be there to serve your needs. Emotional support? Hugs and kisses would do! Quality time? He'll take you out on a cafe or watching the theatre together! He makes sure to always accompany you till the end <3

❤︎ Having an opera singer s/o would means, Gepard prefer to see you in person rather than through texting.

❤︎ Definitely an excuse just so he could hear your voice everyday.

❤︎ The time you both sung together, he always seemed like a blushing mess once he get to hear you singing.

❤︎ He also began to took a private singing lesson with Serval only to impresses you.

❤︎ Oh Lord, even Serval noticing his odd behaviour from suddenly asking her to taught him - but she didn't mind. In fact, she's more than glad to know he's also into music.

❤︎ Everytime you're about to perform, he always make sure to come and watch it. And since this is your performance, you invite him on the best seat as possible but he insisted to sit on the backstage.

❤︎ Whenever someone asked "who is she?", he'll replied proudly, "she's my girlfriend! Her voice can captivated a lot of people heart and she's indeed amazing, right?!". Then proceed to rants about you for the next hours like a little kid <3

❤︎ Listening to your voice is a mood lifters, his soul able to feel the warmth of your harmonious singing. Most likely to ask you to sung him to sleep.

❤︎ "Your voice is truly charming, y/n, I must be a lucky man on the universe to be sung by an Angel" (he learnt the Sampo rizz fr fr).

[pandagirl45]

Steve: Mr. Hammer *tips his cap*

Bucky: *arms crossed*

Justin: oh good the cops, and new Yorks finest

Hammer looked both tall and surprisingly burly cops. It wasn't so much it was champion showman for muscles but it was bodies you see in strongman competitions. Especially the dark haired one. The blond cheerful smile, didn't derail from the power in his own body.

"You've come to my complaints?"

A grunt from the silent one, the blonde nodded, "We have, you said your neighbor was being a disturbance?"

Him. Hammer hated that he moved next to Stark. Even though he grew into himself. That once meek nerd of a boy grew up. He would have to give where credit is due.

It didn't stop the invasive sounds of opera singers, scratchy singers, or even the most unsophisticated noises. It didn't stop when he saw the man up close and personal.

"Yes, my neighbor stark has been playing his music obnoxiously loud."

This time, the blonde officer looked to the house. The raven haired one, let call him dangerous did the sharpest grin, "Ah, he called us too. No one else complained about him."

The two looked at each other, the blonde, let call him safe, went to starks tiny home. Hammer watched from where he and dangerous stood. Stark eyes wide, then a happy grin. Safe own smile warm, shoulders relaxing. Stark eyes on him now then back to safe. The shorter male, very short compared to safe, 5'8 to the 6 something mass of wall, said something.

Fingers snapping, dangerous stepped up close, "he didn't have his music up."

What?

Dangerous grinned again caging hammer into his own house, "you don't like it here, then move. I'm sure you have enough money."

"You great oaf," even with his own 6'0 (5'10") he didn't match whatever aura this man bleed out, "Ge... get off my door frame!"

"Mm, mhm," dangerous gave now a sweet grin to stark, who looked uncomfortable but took to staring hammer in the eyes. Safe though. Safe didn't look Safe. What on earth did they speak about, "Mr. Stark, sorry to ruin ya day doll. Routine ya know."

Stark nodded, "Sorry hammer, I'll keep it down. You could have asked me."

He could. Yet, he could only focus on the dread. These two cops stood there, listening, smiles sharp. Eyes crinkled with delight. Standing behind the short male. If Hammer was drunk or high, he would have thought of them as specters.

Specters, hellish guard dogs.

Stark smiled at them both, both cops entire demeanor shifted, both sweetly wishing stark a good day.

Even though they walked him back. Together. An escort. Hammer stared at the two cops, before safe and dangerous looked at him after their cargo was inside. Both stood there, hands on the hips. Only safe was about to pull whatever he held out, for dangerous to stop him.

Hammer eyes burned from the swear. Goosebumps racing all over his body. The fear raising his neck on end. He was watched as he watched safe and dangerous leave. In an unmarked squad car, playing a tune.

Similar to what Stark plays.

[piracytheorist]

More thoughts on the adaptation choices!

There's an interesting change from manga to anime in chapter/episode 3, when the Forgers visit the opera.

In the manga, it's a female singer, and as I talked about in this post, she's singing the aria Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen from W. A. Mozart's Die Zauberflöte.

In the anime, it's a male singer, and he's singing the poem Estuans Interius from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana.

There is one technical difference; Die Zauberflöte is an actual opera (= with a story and actors and roles and such), so it makes sense when they say they went to an opera. Carmina Burana is a cantata (= no specific story, no actors or roles and all that, just collected poems brought to music), you wouldn't say you'd go to the opera then listen to that work. Unless a) they just say opera to mean anything related to classical music or b) Estuans Interius is actually an aria from an opera in that universe. I don't know why they'd go to listen to an opera written in Latin, but I digress.

Now again, it was a choice to change the musical piece that was performed in this scene. I don't know whether they couldn't have a performance of Der Hölle Rache due to copyright issues (and it's one of the hardest arias in the entire Western opera repertoire; it's not like they can just hire a soprano to sing it just for a small scene, so they'd have to use an existing performance). Mozart may have been dead for 231 slutty slutty years but copyrights are a tough nut to deal with.

That said, there's also interest in seeing the meaning of the two musical pieces. Der Hölle Rache is about the Queen of the Night asking her daughter, Pamina, to go and kill her own father, Sarastro; if she doesn't, she will disown her for life. Here's a translation of the libretto:

The vengeance of hell boils in my heart, Death and despair flame about me! If Sarastro does not through you feel The pain of death, Then you will be my daughter nevermore. Disowned may you be forever, Abandoned may you be forever, Destroyed be forever All the bonds of nature, If not through you Sarastro becomes pale! (as death) Hear, Gods of Revenge, Hear a mother's oath!

That's... a little rough, when attempting to make a connection between that and what the Forgers are currently trying to build. Though I doubt Endo meant for any such subtext; it's a little too subtle and has a lot of layers for me to consider it a connection the reader was supposed to make. I think it was simply an aesthetic choice because she does look pretty badass.

You don't hear the words in the manga. It took me looking carefully at the notes and the costume, going like "Could it be...?" and finding the sheet music for that aria to realize Endo was depicting the Queen of the Night there. So he could comfortably depict a character who wants her own daughter to kill her father, otherwise she'll abandon and disown her, without the readers making any connection between that and the actual story.

But in the anime, you do hear the words. The words "Then you will be my daughter nevermore" come right after the notes shown in the first manga panel. Imagine knowing German (or knowing what this aria is about), watching this show of three randos trying to build a family, and then getting hit with that. Yeah, you'd very likely make an unfortunate connection.

So they chose a different work, one that piques my interest as a musician, both itself and its composer.

Carl Orff is one of the most well known musicians... but if you asked me, I know him better as a music educator rather than a composer. I'm like "Yeah the guy whose education theories I learned at university! Oh he also wrote Carmina Burana." Many of those theories we use up to this day. His name was one of the most used in our education classes, along with names like Montessori and Piaget. So considering how the story includes two people who are trying to learn how to be good parents, it's very interesting that they had a reference to one of the most influential music educators. I don't know. Maybe I'm seeing too much into it. I still find it interesting.

As for the work, Carmina Burana is well known among classical musicians for being... provocative. A lot of the songs are about carnal pleasures, and Estuans Interius is no exception. You can find translations of the poems used here, if you're interested. Here is a translation of what is sung in that scene specifically:

Chains cannot hold me, Keys cannot imprison me, I look for people like me and join the wretches. The heaviness of my heart seems a burden to me; it is pleasant to joke and sweeter than honeycomb;

Now that is something easier to connect to the Forgers, innit? The context of the entire poem gives a specific meaning to the lyrics, but it's the part that we hear that matters in the context of the story, and I pretty much love how that part speaks of resistance, of being deemed a "wretch" for not following the norm, of joining a community of said "wretches", and of how that can free someone of the burden of pretending in order to conform.

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 13

I am slowly making my way through these.

STORY

Guys, not going to lie. This backtracking is boring as fuck. But at least Claude keeps taking Ls.

I also can't fathom why you wouldn't just send some of your army. Like why all of them? Claude is an idiot for this.

But we all knew he was after his oh so potent counter argument vs Sylvain lamo.

Yeah, it's the same TWSITD stuff Edelgard backtracked for. How dull.

Haha, Shez can say she thinks it's the Knights of Serios and Claude's like "they're not that low." So then why are you so desperate to murder all of them?

They're nicer to Shez than the Black Eagles were though, where he practically got treated like a guilty enemy and threatened and interrogated. Still think AG is by far the best route for Shez, but I'm not biased at all lamo.

MAP/SIDE BATTLES

I don't think Linhardt wants to be here lol.

I liked Holst better when he was a meme mystery character. What they did with him is so dreadfully dull.

It's pretty rich to hear them judge people for attacking villages when they just did the exact same thing.

Cool to see Lysithea's past be relevant again.

This is the exact same thing as SB. I swear Claude always just gets railroaded into someone else's plot.

At least Claude realizes this happened because of the war instead of dodo bird Edelgard who thinks TWSITD doesn't want the Empire to unify everyone (which, they do so . . .)

SHEZ & HOLST A

Holst goofed up. Shez lecture him. They split up and head back.

Holst falls asleep waiting for Shez to get back.

Nothing interesting happens.

MARIANNE & LEONIE B

Leonie failed to catch something and runs into Marianne heading into the stables.

Guys, Leonie also eats the weeds.

They talk about a flower they both like that Leonie also picked just because she liked it. Marianne gets poetic about it.

Leonie gives it to Marianne, who wants to share it with everyone.

Leonie doesn't take Marianne literally when she claims the birds told her something.

LEONIE & HILDA B

Leonie tried perfume and Hilda's happy. It's one Hilda made herself.

If I hear "Eau de Leonie" one more time, I'll have heard it twice more than I want too.

Leonie rejects it. It's not for her. Hilda's not offended. Hilda just wanted Leonie to have something special.

Leonie compromises and says she'll just wear it on special occasions.

Hilda wants them to wear different scents that smell better when mixed together. They both talk about how weird that sounds, but Leonie's still game to try because she's a trooper.

HILDA & MARIANNE A

Really weird to see a support talk about how religious Marianne is in GW. Where she doesn't blink twice at the idea that Rhea is all that's wrong in the world and must die.

Marianne asks why Hilda's always so nice and brings up the first support. Which mentions Judith so ... awkward. My bad playing skills strike lamo.

Hilda thinks having Marianne around makes her life easier andis just "the best." Marihilda fans eating good.

Marianne always emotionally supports Hilda without even knowing it and makes Hilda feel warm inside.

It's a pretty sweet support all things told.

FINAL BATTLE

Okaaay, so this starts with them wanting to go see an opera. That's . . . . not how I thought this would start. Well, they're fighting the bandits. And their fans are playing soldier to fight bandits.

Is this . . . really what the main battle is about this chapter? Golden Wildfire really doesn't have anything to do, does it?

I spent hours fighting side battles and preparing units to basically have Dorothea's and Manuela's paralogue joke story end up the main battle. Wow.

They were really like, oh shit, GW has one less chapter. Oh, I know, let's have them fight bandits to protect opera singers and their delulu fans. Like, why.

Well, at the end it has some semblance of relevance by having TWSITD show up. But yeah . . .

No one got any answers (Shez and Lysithea, specifically)

Now Arval and Shez are in that weird space dimension.

Edelgard is requesting reinforcements at the school. Rhea might be there.

xxx

[eriksangel666]

Madeline and the Phantom of the Opera: An Original Story by @eriksangel666

In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, there lived 12 little girls in 2 straight lines.

They left the house at half past 9 in rain or shine. The smallest one was Madeline.

The little girls all loved to sing. In music class, their voices would ring.

Miss Clavel wanted to reward their talent with something sweet. Then one morning, she read the paper and said: "I know just the treat!"

Just before bed, she told them, "Girls, get plenty of rest. Tomorrow we're going to the opera, and I want you looking your best."

"The opera, the opera!" cried the girls with cheer. They slept and dreamt of the wonderful music they'd hear.

The next evening, in dresses pressed and neat, they set off for the opera and walked down the street.

The opera closed since it's chandelier was not quite right, but now it was fixed and ready for re-opening night.

In two straight lines, the girls sat down with glee. But there was one problem: little Madeline could not see.

She strained to peer over a lady's bouffant hair when she looked up, saw an empty box and thought "I can see from there!"

Since tonight was special, she did not want to frighten Miss Clavel. So she tiptoed very quitely and snuck out quite well.

Upon arrival, she saw the door had no locks, and easily entered the opera box.

Madeline loved her view of the stage, but her presence filled a mysterious man with rage.

"Mademoiselle," said a voice, "this box is mine."

"I won't stay long," she said, "the opera ends at 9."

"If you don't leave, there's no telling what I'll do!"

To the grump invisible man, Madeline just said "Pooh pooh! You are invisible, how could you have a place? If you want your seat that much, show me your face!"

At once he showed himself. He was no ordinary host. Madeline realized she had met the Opera Ghost!

"Oh Monsieur!" she gasped, her face turning white. The ghost cackled at her expression because he thought it was fright.

But after a few seconds, he was no longer glad. He realized Madeline was actually sad.

The ghost asked "What are you staring at?"

"You remind me of my friend," she said "A bad, bad hat."

He frowned. "What's that?"

"My friend Pepito always acted like he was mad. But really, he was lonely and quite sad."

She asked, "Monsieur, are you lonely too?" The ghost was shocked- she actually knew!"

"Yes," the Ghost whispered to Madeline. "I have been lonely for quite some time."

"But the music makes me feel less alone. And for that, I'm glad the opera is my home."

Madeline smiled. "I would never want the music to end." She took the ghost's hand. "May I join you tonight as a friend?"

The ghost blinked and became quite shy. He did not want Madeline to see him cry.

He said, "I would love nothing more mademoiselle." He sat her in his lap and they listened to the singers excel.

Madeline asked questions about the people who could sing, and the Ghost taught her music facts that were most interesting!

They mostly talked, which made the Ghost quite glad. Maybe having one friend wasn't all that bad.

At the end, Madeline gasped, "I must get back to Miss Clavel!"

The ghost smiled "I'll bring you back, she won't be able to tell."

Other guests would have been in a daze, but Madeline loved being guided through the Opera like a maze.

The Ghost kissed her hand. "Ma petite chou, I'll bid you goodnight." And with a flicker, he vanished completely out of sight.

The beauty of the music made all the girls weep. Miss Clavel said, "Allons-y, you little girls need sleep."

Late at night, Madeline wondered if she made up the ghost in her head. But she rolled over and found a letter that fell out while changing for bed.

She opened the note and it filled her with glee. For at the bottom in cursive were the letters "O.G."

It said, "Next time you want to hear music that's sweet, join me in my box and I'll bring you a seat."

Madeline now has a friend who lives under the Opera House floor

And that's all there is. There isn't anymore.

[isawken]

so the thing is

the thing is i think about my sorry 20 year old ass taking dozens of mgs of stolen barbiturates in my one bedroom apartment luxuriously paid for by an excess of student loans playing spyro the dragon on my 11 year old playstation 2 slim living the young artist's dream just me and a cat and and memory loss skipping class to make mediocre art too high to self harm in the old fashioned "burn or cut myself" way so i didn't think the other stuff i was doing was all that bad and trying really hard to be a mediocre waitress at a mediocre faux-high-brow restaurant and finally after a month being honest with my therapist and her recommending, not telling, me to self admit to Forest View Psychiatric Hospital and i actually did because i didn't know what else to do and i got in there and they took my shoelaces and i cried for about 36 hours straight because what the fuck did i just do, until they finally gave up on the trazadone that just straight up was not working and gave me seroquel and i finally slept for a while and then just sat in the bedroom i shared with an 18 year old anorexic (who would soon ask to get transferred to the minor ward and they'd let her for reasons i'm still not clear on other than the assumption of empathy on the part of her assigned psychiatrist which is frankly hard for me to believe) because they didn't actually care if you went to the group therapies as long as you were somewhere visible for their regular 15 minute check ins but after the 3rd day of now-intermittent crying and 6 new medications and mediocre forced sleep i asked if i could take a nap in one of the quiet rooms and they let me and it was one of the best naps i ever had in my life and when i woke up i was in a great mood and my whole perspective had somehow shifted and suddenly this was a good thing i was okay with being here (i still have no idea how this happened) and i went to group therapy and i tolerated the others in therapy telling me the solution to my immense self hate was to trust that god loves me and i went to the art room and drew in coloring books with the others and chatted and a 19 year old taught me about the chemical compounds in mucinex that get you high and i got a new roommate who was also my age also bisexual and she was an opera singer and she knew danish and we chatted up a stereotypically intimidating-looking biker man who had a voice as beautiful as my roommate's and he told us as he was waiting for the single-shower room about the benefits of MDMA for trauma and how the best thing you can do when you're rolling is "the airplane" and a 48 year old pill popper mother of 4 taught me how to jam a plastic spoon into the shower button in your room so you don't have to keep pressing the button for water and a guy named zander told me a bunch of pun jokes and we started sitting together at lunch and one day it was chicken wings, like actually decent chicken wings, so he ate a bunch and then left the bones piled on his plate as he left to get another round and the woman sitting across from us leaned over, eyes honed on my face, and very gently asked if it would be okay if we could cover up the bones on our plates because it reminded her of her captivity by two men and subsequent torture, specifically when they shoved a broken handle through her foot and

and

and my reaction was, of course, to say yes yes, of course, it's no trouble at all, zander won't mind either, and he came back as we were talking, and i simply told him let's cover up our bones as i unfolded a napkin and draped it over his plate, and he nodded in immediate understanding, and i switched conversation topics to something light like oh where are you from what did you do before this what drugs did you take and it was an otherwise fine lunch as we all commiserated over our substance abuses and

and

and ever since then, even during subsequent life-changing mental breakdowns, it's never been as bad as that first one, because i think of her (i can't remember her name i wish i did she deserves me to remember her name) and i am grateful that i can look at a pile of chicken bones and be okay

as far as psych ward experiences go mine was pretty much as positive as one could get and i'm so lucky and i'm so grateful but

it wasn't until way after my experience that i learned that other psych wards gave their patients fun grippy socks.

i never got grippy socks. and even worse than that.

i never got my fucking shoelaces back.

[orange-cheetah]

The Thief and the Phantom's First Meeting

Undead Girl Murder Farce: Volume 2, Chapter 0

[Disclaimer: Translated from Chinese text. Some lines taken from the subtitles of the anime.]

"Good morning, Erik."

Upon waking up, he hears a friendly voice calling him.

The man groans, getting up awkwardly. Both of his hands are tied behind him.

He is in an unfamiliar, strange room. The walls and ceiling are bare stone, though a lavish dining table laden with desserts or fruit trays sits in the middle of the room. He can hear faint sounds of water.

On the chair before him sits a young man with his legs crossed.

"Your face without the mask is unexpectedly quite handsome, you know."

The man realizes that the mask he likes using has been taken away, to be put on the table. Hurriedly lowering his head, he tries to cover his face with his white hair. The young man smiles and says: "Don't be so shy."

The young man is about twenty-five or -six years of age. Beautiful golden hair and a fierce[1] gaze leave a deep impression; a tuxedo hugs his slender body, draped in a black cloak. The buttons on his jacket are probably real emeralds. His expression, dress and attitude overflow with considerable confidence; instead of a king, he gives one the sense that his style is more of a prince's. And a capricious, playboy prince at that. The man instinctively feels that this person is of the sort completely opposite to himself.

"Right, how do you feel, Erik? Because you've been unconscious for about half the day. Want to drink anything?"

"How do you know my real name?"

"Investigating in advance is the basics of the work. Oh, I know lots of things. You're from Persia. You were born with your white hair and disfigured face. Your singing voice is an unparalleled tenor. You live 23 floors beneath the Paris Opera. You've evaded capture for the past 20 years, elusive as though a specter; the nickname you were given was 'the Phantom of the Opera.' Am I right, our shy gentleman."

While listing out all sorts of information unceasingly, the young man plays with a large ruby with one gloved hand.

Right, he's beginning to recallーーit was a splendid night like any other. As it was the closing night of Don Carlos[2], the opera house had been very lively; the man was watching the opera from Box 5 of the second floor. But something strange had happened while Act 3 was in progress: this phantom thief had descended from the skies, stealing the ruby worn by the female vocalist. As it was the singer he adores, he had gone after the thief. After pursuing him to the top level of seats he had been hit by a counterattack from the enemy, and thenーーwhen he woke up he was already here.

"What is this place?"

"L'Aiguille Creuse[3]," the young man replies with a phrase he's never heard before. "Though I'm still working on it. It's a tad uncomfortable to stay in for the moment."

"Why did you kidnap me?"

"I stole you." Immediately corrected. "Along with this ruby. Things should be organized and collected to one place. I can't bear to see this passionate jewel never be more than some stage prop, and it's no fun to have a true phantom living in obscurity beneath an opera house. They should both belong to me; it feels more coordinated this way."

"Enough chatter. What are you after?"

The young man shrugs. "There's a job I'd like to do in London, but my subordinates have all ran off, so I'm a little short-staffed at the moment."

So he wants to find someone to help with this job? What an unorthodox way of recruitment. The man carefully asks: "What are you planning on stealing?"

"'The Penultimate Night.'"

"...Phileas Fogg's?"

"That's right."

"Are you mad?" No wonder all his subordinates ran. "I have heard of the jewel of the Fogg mansion, but it's impossible to obtain. That mansion's security is impregnable. And in London, there's Sherlock Holmes."

"Here, there's Arsène Lupin."

The young man touches the ruby to his chest.

If heard only from the sidelines, it would feel nothing more than a very arrogant statement. But behind the tone, one can feel an inexplicable majesty that is different from the common bluffing or exaggerated fantasies of fools. As though certain of the future.

The man senses the abnormality.

What His Royal Highness exudes is not confidence.

It's conviction.

Breaking through the mansion security that others would quail before, prevailing over the famous detective coined 'the best in the world'; these are all established matters in his mind and are to be expected. The plan is already perfect and flawless, all hypotheticals accounted for, leaving no rate of failure to speak of ー where would one even spare the time to be arrogant. It may well be madness talking, yetーー

Meeting Lupin's gaze once more. Golden eyes as though the sun.

"Any chance of winning?"

"I wouldn't have invited you here if there weren't."

Stepping into the Phantom's heart as though heat waves of summer. The life spent hiding under the opera house until now, the self-isolation imprisoned by the ugly right face; all of this is easily melted by the sun. Guided by that light, a foolish feeling surges up. As though wanting to cause a scene on the stage of a farce, a young and energetic impulse.

After a while, he stands up. At the same moment, the ropes that had been tying his hands together fall to the ground.

"You have other special skills besides singing?" Lupin says. "When did you undo them?"

"Around the time you said 'unexpectedly quite handsome'. I've always been good at handling ropes."

"I admire you even more now. So, what are you going to do? Go home?"

"I was stolen, wasn't I? I'll follow my owner's orders."

Strictly speaking, it's his loss this time. Even if he's unwilling to, he could only agree to a contract.

The Phantom approaches the table to pick up his mask, putting it on the right side of his face, experiencing the sense of coordination that had been mentioned in their conversation just now.

Bowing respectfully to his owner, he recites a line from an opera: "La Juive[4], Act 2. 'But come! Be it heaven or earth, the self-same fate and destiny awaits the two of us.'" [5]

"Though you've done well to quote these lines." Lupin surveys the surroundings of the hideout with an expression as though suppressing laughter. "I'm afraid, Erik, we are at sea."

Footnotes:

强悍 (qiáng hàn): strong, powerful

Based on conflicts in the life of Carlos, Prince of Asturias (1545–1568). Though he was betrothed to Elisabeth of Valois, part of the peace treaty ending the Italian War of 1551–59 between the Houses of Habsburg and Valois demanded that she be married instead to his father Philip II of Spain. It was commissioned and produced by the Théâtre Impérial de l'Opéra (Paris Opera) and given its premiere at the Salle Le Peletier on 11 March 1867. (wikipedia)

The Hollow Needle.

The Jewess. Tells of an impossible love between a Christian man and a Jewish woman. (wikipedia)

Act 2, Scene IV. Presumably taken from two separate sections, and I couldn't find any mention of 'heaven or earth'. You can read it here (pp. 19)

LEOPOLD. I know! But come! Let thine heart be mine, Let love enchain us, and Jew or Christian, Thy lot is mine. Let heaven's wrath o'erwhelm me. Thy love wants mine, The rest is nothing, I regret not.

RACHEL AND LEOPOLD. Let thine heart be mine, Let love enchain us and, Jew or Gentile, Thy love is mine. For us the self-same fate and destiny

[firephoenix2305]

Oh my, is it WIP Wednesday already??

So, I recently shared this post of the tattoos (or tattoo, really, because I feel like the snake doesn't count) I designed for my singers!AU Crowley (In which the latter is a world-famous cover artist and Aziraphale is a lesser known but incredibly talented opera singer).

And my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until I wrote the scene associated to said tattoo, so I did. And I'm now sharing a snippet with you guys! Enjoy the fluff / pining ! >>>

[Context: Crowley's Mayfair flat, living room, nighttime. Angel and demon sharing a wine bottle in the living room, sat on the couch]

-Is that a tattoo on your shoulder? - Aziraphale finally asked, his grip becoming imperceptibly tighter on the half-empty wine glass. -Hmm - Crowley hummed against the glass between his lips, quickly swallowing the wine he’d sipped to give the other a more comprehensible answer - Yeah, I’ve had it for ages.Got it done the same week as this fellow - he caressed the black snake coiled on his jaw with a knuckle - Hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it - he smirked that irresistible little smirk of his, and Aziraphale’s stomach flipped. -It looks very good on you - he said in complete honesty, accompanying the compliment with a small smile before he could stop himself, praying to whoever would listen not to let his face turn scarlet in the process - Planets, I gather? - Aziraphale added, remembering the circular shapes he’d seen before. -Almost - the other said, flashing him a shit-eating grin before hauling himself off the couch and extending a hand down to him - Show you properly? -  The gentleness in Crowley’s voice set Aziraphale’s heart off like an industrial bulldozer; and the silent invitation in those beautiful, glistening amber eyes did nothing to help. The soft lamp light illuminated the man entirely where he stood, delicately painting his features; from the swaying curves of his hips to the angular lines of his jaw; and the opera singer, being at this point prone to self-harm, stared for a second longer than would be prudent. He took in the way his coppery hair shone like a flame, his fingers itching to gently fix the few strands messily draped over his forehead. He noted the perfect, soft shape of his cupid’s bow, his own lips tingling with the mere thought of a brush; and couldn't help a small, shaky, almost imperceptible breath at the obnoxiously tempting flesh of his serpentine neck.   -You certainly must - Aziraphale replied, using all of his half-drunken strength to act normal, taking the singer’s offered hand as he did so. 

(By "showing him properly" he doesn't mean what you think he means. And don't look at me like that, we both know what it was you thought he meant)

Still not telling you what the tattoo is btw :)