#my memory works perf ...

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

I have decidet that it's a 'working memory' issue (or a generally issue with the brain no longer quiet working like it is supposed to ) ...

And if marvel has issues with that they can wrench it from my cold dead hands ...

I mean think about it.

The colapsing wormhole he fell through propabyl injured him badly and I doupt that he had the time to recover properly

What ever the other and thanos where up to propably didn't help and neither did the mindstone

And neither did the hulk ...

SO ... 'working memory' issues ...

Like he still can DO the things he used to be able to do ... but he forgetts that he could use them

-> forgets on lamentis that he could teleport, only remebers he can do telekinesis wenn a literall rocket is about to fall on them etc. ...

Like, brains are a bit sensitive and while someone might seem alright on a day to day basis they might be struggling with "invisible" issues

These comics kind a explain what I mean better then I can:

Some random person: So that's why Loki's magic is weak. Because everytime he dies he loses his magic...

Me: So here's a very long list of why an 1,065 year old cosmic sorcerer genius taught by Frigga since birth should have been able to easily beat Dr. Strange.

[whorediaries-09]

I’ve been thinking alotttt about rivals! Remy where him and r have been hooking up but the r starts gaining feelings for rem and distants herself but rem is just like “what the hell?” And then they like admit their feelings when rem corners her one day curious😩

i'm sorry this took so long, but i hope you like this!!

friends;

pairing- remus lupin x reader warning(s)- cigarettes, alludes to sex, hurt/comfort. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- academic rivals to lovers is so precious to me you don't understand.

little train

' girl, I'm not with it, I'm way too far gone i'm not ready, eyes heavy now,'

'i can't believe i've to work with your pathetic ass,' he rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. your eyes wandered over to the burn marks on them, probably from all the joints he smoked. you could hear his friends laughing behind his back. even peter, the quietest and the most tolerable of the lot, was laughing. you scowled, tilting your head to meet his eyes,

'i don't remember you saying that last night. you said i've a perfect ass. maybe you have a problem of short term memory loss?' in an instant, you saw his cheeks reddening and eyes widening comically when he registered your words. his hand slapped upon your mouth, trying to shut you up.

he received a flying paper ball on his head. he turned his head around to find sirius waving his index finger at him

'not in class, moony.' he said, as peter tried not to laugh. he was measuring the ingredients written on the blackboard.

'hello my lovely students!' slughorn's overly cheery voice rang throughout the classroom. the class sang him a dull good morning. it was winter after all, most of the students wanted nothing but to snuggle up in bed within the folds of their cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate. the only energetic person was sirius, and he sang,

'good morning sluggy!' slughorn knitted his eyebrows together at the nickname but didn't say anything.

'good morning, mr. black. i see you've preferred to follow the rules for once and sit on the desk assigned to you.' sirius shrugged his shoulders, batting his eyelashes.

'you and i, we're the best matchmakers, mr. slughorn. we're a team,' what he meant, the saints knew. perhaps that would be taking a step too far, because by the slight smirk on slughorn's face, he knew what sirius meant.

'mr. black, i prefer the student and professor dynamics between us better,' he replied, scratching his eyebrow with his fingernail. sirius groaned mockingly.

'okay class, settle down. we're making amortentia today.' raising your hand, you questioned,

'the love potion?'

'yes, exactly the love potion. of course no magic is as powerful to be able to imitate real love. however, it does create a powerful infatuation, with the person who gave it to the drinker. the scent varies based on what the person likes. it's a very complicated potion to make, but anyone who makes the perf-'

his speech was interrupted by a famished lily evans who was as red as her hair and a grinning james potter. her tie was loose, dangling off her collar and his hair was ruffled. lily's usually nicely ironed uniform was full of wrinkles.

'oh wow! head boy and head girl late to class!' slughorn scowled. by the look on his face, however, he was regretting his choice to let the ever infatuated james potter and the stubborn lily evans sit together.

'just sit down the both of you!' he scolded and they entered the classroom, lily's bag almost spilling parchment and ink bottles. slughorn coughed and continued,

'so as i was saying, who ever makes the perfect love potion gets-' he put his hand into his pocket, pulling out a little bottle full of a clear liquid. '-this. can anyone tell me what this is?'

'felix felicis.' sirius said. further words conversation wasn't recorded by your mind when remus bent down, whispering in your ear,

'do you think they hooked up?' you eyes widened as you looked at him. your eyes unconsciously travelled down to his chapped lips. the taste still remained on your tongue.

'do you like- actually think before speaking? james potter and lily evans hooking up! lily would rather die, he hates the guy.' remus shrugged his shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

'i mean, look at us, we hate each other but the other day you wouldn't let me stop eating you out-'

'oh please shut up! just get the fucking ingredients!' he smiled, as you try to hide your face with you hair, suddenly very intrigued by your book.

'okay madam,' he said, mock saluting.

*-

after a lot of banter and distractions you ended up with a potion which only looked seconds away from an explosion. there was certainly no 'mother of pearl' sheen or any rising steam in a characteristic spiral. even pearl dust couldn't save the disaster of a potion.

'oh god why did i have to work with you!' you gripped your hair with your fingers, almost pulling them off as you sat down on the chair, chewing on your lip.

'my grades will go down!' you snapped. he turned around, a wince on his face.

'so will mine. this shit is team work and if your grades go down, so will mine.' he stated. you rolled your eyes as he sat down beside you, his palm on your shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze.

'i shouldn't be comforting my academic rival but guess if you low, i go lower.' your ears perked up at the term. 'academic rival.' he didn't even consider you a friend. that's all you were to him, an academic rival, a benchmark to cross, a quick fuck when he was tired. you gulped slowly. suddenly, your throat felt very dry. you stared into his eyes, trying to decipher something, but trust god to give remus lupin the most dead eyes known to mankind.

'ohhh! we have a winner!' slughorn's voice pulled you from your thoughts. your head snapped to the source of commotion, expecting to find lily to be the winner- but it was sirius.

'mr. black, this felix felicis is yours,' he threw a charming grin to all the flushed young ladies and lads as his fingers wrapped around the little bottle. most of the girls and boys almost swooned at his antics, and some could be found a few seconds from fainting when he winked.

'get it padfoot!' james cheered. lily disapprovingly hit james' head with her book. james scowled.

'i want everybody to come and tell me what they smell in here. let's start with mr. black,' he smiled, staring at the eager faces of the young ladies and lads who surrounded him as if he was a trophy.

'i smell petrol, rain and my favorite tea. i can also smell..uh cherry flavored shampoo, and my cologne.' it was nothing very interesting. neither of them used cherry shampoo. and it wasn't just a flying rumor that sirius black rode a motorcycle.

'ah, good, good.' slughorn praised, patting his back. his eyes wandered about in the room before they stopped at your direction.

'okay yes, now you,' he said, instructing you to smell the potion. internally you called him an old cow. externally you smiled, a little more than actually required, and too fake to be a real smile. no comments were passed when you walked up to the front of the classroom, smelling the potion.

'ah- so i smell parchment, ink, coffee, vanilla....cigarettes and dark chocolate.' you stumbled upon your words when you found remus looking at you intently. you tried to ignore the burning gaze and how the blood rushed into your cheeks. slughorn coughed slightly,

'okay, now next student!' he clapped his hands together, trying to cut through the sudden tension in the room. you moved away from the smoking cauldron, walking towards your chair. sitting down, you pondered.

cigarettes? damn you, you hated cigarettes! you'd been reluctant to try one for the first time, but trust remus to roll you the perfect blunt and manipulate you to try it in the best way possible. you remembered coughing up the smoke onto his face.

dark chocolate? sure you enjoyed it here and there but it wasn't certainly something you loved. you wanted to rip out your hair.

the realization had been lingering upon your head from the last few weeks, but you didn't want to act upon it. a lot of people mistake lust for love. you were a teenager high on hormones, hooking up with remus lupin, your biggest academic rival- of course you were bound to mistake lust for life.

perhaps the heated kisses within the shadows of dark nights, the way his hands lingered upon your body, making you feel alive as he touched you down to your core, the heat crawling under your skin, dizzying your mind, the way he begged to touch you, to feel you meant more than just lust. perhaps it was closeted love. but it didn't mean good news. having a crush was fine, but falling for remus john lupin was bad news. it meant heartbreak, a new rumor for the nosy students of hogwarts.

so you did the best thing that came in your mind to maintain your feelings and keep your heart in control. it wouldn't be very effective, considering remus was your partner in potions for the year, but you'd try your best. no hooking up, just necessary conversations. all you had to do was ignore him. the less you saw him, the better.

*-

remus looked up to your face, his sweaty strands of hair sticking onto his forehead. his calloused hands gripped your waist as he thrust his hips upwards. you bent down, brushing his lips against yours. you held down his hands, pinning them above his head. he tried to crane his neck to kiss your lips, but you didn't allow him holding his hands tighter.

slowly, torturously slow you started rotating your hips. he arched his back, moaning your name, his fingers trying to grasp the fabric of the head board.

'god, you feel so fucking good,' he moaned. you smirked, your tongue swiping over your teeth.

'i know,'

suddenly, his face started to distort, and he started laughing at you. weird, that is not how you remembered that night. he was jerking you, before everything went hazy and your vision started blackening and you saw a tunnel of light. you tried to grasp onto the light, escaping the booming sound of his laughter.

it was a fucking dream. you rubbed your eyes, pushing your face into the pillow, silencing your scream, so as to not wake up the others. you hated how pathetic it made you feel. how did it happen?

within the spills of ink on parchment paper and a constant comparison, how could have your feelings changed like this. perhaps you thought of him too much. you were supposed to ignore him. in the typical sense you were, but your mind or heart wasn't ready to go.

you were standing on the edge of a fucking knife, wondering if remus lupin even considered you to be a friend. you hated yourself for falling for him. it wasn't supposed to be more than sex, a quick relief from the constant shambles of your lives, yet here you were, in the middle of the night thinking of the one you were supposed to hate.

slipping your feet into the cozy bunny slippers, you grabbed your thickest jumper. you couldn't sleep, so you might as well take a walk. james and lily were on duty, but you were sure they weren't being as responsible as they were supposed to be.

*-

it was cold. the snow that settled on the grounds was thick and milky white. the cold wind bit your skin, prickling it with goosebumps. you felt a lump in your throat thicken, and your eyes burn. you felt your heart drop. you blamed yourself for the situation you were in. it was your fault, utterly. you weren't supposed to fall for him.

even the stars couldn't calm you down with their serene rays. you dropped your head into your palms, letting the tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing silently.

'talking a walk alone at night now are we?' a voice quietly creeped up behind your back. you wiped your cheeks quickly, mentally preparing yourself to being caught by a prefect and getting your house points deducted. when you turned around, however, you were met with the amber eyes of the one you'd been thinking about. your tongue was tied in knots as you watched him drop james' invisibility cloak on the floor and walk towards you. you backed away, until your back hit the wall and there was nowhere to go.

'r-remus-' he raised an eyebrow, capturing you against the wall, his hand pressed against the wall. he leaned down, his finger crawling under your jaw and tilting your head to meet his burning amber like gaze.

'have you been crying?' he asked. you stared at him, tongue twisted in knots. but you knew it was no use lying to him. he could read you like a book.

'yes,' you nodded. he tilted an eyebrow.

'why?'

'why does it fucking matter remus? leave me alone- i'm not even your fucking friend.'

'then what are we? you've been ignoring me for the past few days, and now you're running away when i've finally got you alone.'

'nice try, lupin. you don't give a shit, so just let me go.'

'oh so you're going to decide whether i give a shit about you or not? what if i tell you i do?'

'you won't mean it.'

'i will. i've never lied to you,' he said. there was a bitter sadness in his eyes. you could see the darkness in his gaze, and even if he naturally had dead eyes, you could see a tiny ray of warmth in his gaze.

'please.' he said, letting you go. 'just tell me what's wrong. tell me what i've done. tell me how i can fix it. just...please don't ignore me.' he begged. slowly gulping, you pondered whether it was the correct moment to speak out your heart. perhaps it wasn't, but he could right through the lies. and while you had a lot of explanations hidden in your head, you could only whisper one line,

'i'm in love with you, remus,' he stared at you intently, letting your words hang before he could act upon them. you expected screaming, cussing...laughter. you didn't expect a soft gaze as he smiled at you. he slipped his finger under you jaw, tilting your head.

'i don't think you ignore the one's you're in love with,' you screwed your eyes shut, biting your lip. the blood warmly travelled to your cheeks,

'you don't feel the same, i was scared.'

'and how exactly do you know that?' you opened your eyes, to find him staring at you in utter glee.

'i've been yours before you touched me. all it took was spilled ink on my essay, sweetheart.'

********************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

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[msbigredmachine]

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

--------------

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[bupia]

Treasure hunt: Papa Emeritus IV x AFAB!Reader

Summary: It's Christmas, and Copia won't be returning home this evening. However, he thoughtfully left you a note. What surprises might it hold?

Words: 10.152

Warnings: The Italian nicknames used by Copia has no gender, however the reader is AFAB | Smut (Copia is slightly dom; teasing; dirty talk; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Swearing | Italian swearing

Available on AO3

Primo (ao3) | Secondo (ao3) | Terzo (ao3)

Author's note: This is the Last day of the series XXXMAS AT THE MINISTRY, a Collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat @ghulehunknown and @molly-ghuleh, read their works too. I wanted to let you know that I'll be taking a short break after the Holidays as I'm currently engrossed in a work project. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

"What do you mean you're not coming?" you questioned with disappointment and confusion, pacing back and forth in your room.

"Amore," Copia sighed from the other end of the line. "Per favore, mi dispiace."

"But everyone's already here," you pointed out, worry evident in your voice. "Copia, you said..."

"I know," he responded. "And it kills me that I'm stuck here for reasons even I can't understand. They don't even need me anymore."

"What have you been doing there?"

"Nothing. The clergy insists the Papa Emeritus stays and observes some proceeds for the upcoming New Year's Eve ritual until it's all done, so I watch and do nothing more," he expressed his frustration, and you could almost hear him running a hand through his hair. "I just want to see you; I miss you so much."

"I miss you too. A lot..."

"I miss you immensely, amore mio," Copia confessed with a melancholic tone. "I miss your kisses, your smile, your laughter, your touch, your body..." The last word lingered, emphasized as if he were savoring the memory. "I even miss your beautiful nose."

"My nose?" you chuckled, sitting down on the edge of your bed. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know! I just know that you are perf—" His words were abruptly cut off, and he fell silent. "Amore, I need to go now. I wish I could talk to you a little longer. I really missed your voice throughout the day."

"I missed yours too," you admitted, a tinge of longing in your tone. "What should I do now if you won't make it for dinner?"

"Amore mio," he said with a gentle tone. "There's just one thing that can be done now; you will enjoy the Christmas dinner you put so much effort into." he sighed, frustration evident.

"Ok..." you replied with a touch of sadness in your voice. "But promise me you'll be here tomorrow."

"I promise," he assured, "I'll make it up to you, amore mio. Ti amo così tanto."

"I love you too," you whispered

And then, he ended the call with a series of soft kissing sounds, a distant echo of the warmth you longed for. You sighed, holding the phone away from your ear, absorbing his kisses that felt both comforting and painfully distant. Copia hadn't been this occupied in a long time, and it was Christmas Eve of all days. Both of you had anticipated his return for the holidays, expecting him to be at home with you.

Frustration bubbled up within you as you glanced around the room. Helplessness settled in, and there was nothing you could do but yearn for Copia's presence. Rising from the bed, you adjusted your clothes, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully to the bedroom door.

With a gentle push, you opened the door, ensuring it closed quietly behind you. The echoes of your footsteps resonated as you retraced your path back to the dining room of the Papal Apartment. As you moved through the rooms, you couldn't help but appreciate the festive decor. At least he had taken the time to help you decorate.

"So?" Terzo inquired as you reentered the dining room, slipping his phone back into his blazer pocket.

"He won't make it," you revealed, a touch of melancholy lingering in your voice, veiled by a faint attempt at a smile.

"What do you mean he won't make it?" Secondo asked, topping off his wine. "What's going on?"

"He mentioned the clergy is keeping him there," you explained.

Terzo grumbled, "Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti. What now? Why can't they let him have a break?"

"I..." you sighed, moving toward the table. "I don't know."

"It's still Christmas," Primo chimed in. "I believe Copia would want us to celebrate together. We can still have our dinner."

Terzo rolled his eyes dramatically. "Well, it wouldn't be a proper holiday without the clergy complicating things, sì?"

Secondo, his annoyance palpable, grumbled, "This is ridiculous. What are we supposed to do without him? It's Christmas Eve!"

Primo, chimed in once again, with a gentle smile. "We can still make it special. Copia would want us to enjoy the evening together."

You nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"So, what's the plan now?" Terzo quipped, his tone laden with sarcasm as he eyed the table. "Shall we stage a satanic reenactment of the Last Supper without our fratello?"

Secondo grunted, clearly irritated. "Stai zitto, Terzo. But he is right, Christmas dinner without him? Doesn't feels right."

"I agree with Primo. I doubt he'd want us to do not enjoy the dinner while he's stuck there," you murmured, your sadness bubbling to the surface.

Terzo smirked, pouring himself another glass of wine, "Maybe we can send him a virtual plate. I'm sure the clergy wouldn't mind that."

"Terzo..." Primo sighed, rolling his eyes in Terzo's direction. "We can, at the very least, set aside some leftovers for him," he suggested. "A Christmas meal will be waiting for him when he finally returns."

You managed a weak smile. "I just wish he could be here."

Terzo sighed, looking at you. He made his way to your direction and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Guess those unholier-than-thou vecchi need him to bless their turkey with a side of devilish charm or something."

Your gaze shifted to Terzo, and a laugh escaped you. He responded with a warm smile, exchanging the hand on your shoulder for a gentle touch on your face.

"Thank you," you said, with gratitude.

Terzo nodded appreciatively and turned away, taking his place at the table. "Can't let this food go to waste, can we? Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame."

With that, the four of you took your seats at the table. Though the absence of Copia cast a shadow over the celebration, the presence of Primo, Secondo and Terzo, eased the melancholy. After all, they had all made their way to the Ministry for this special occasion, and you felt a sense of responsibility not to let the festive spirit dwindle.

Secondo, in particular, had regaled the gathering with stories of meticulously crafting a turkey recipe he discovered in some book. Meanwhile, Terzo, had taken charge of the wine selection, claiming he didn't trust his brothers to make the right choices. Primo, had taken it upon himself to prepare cranberry sauce for the occasion. He proudly revealed that he had been cultivating cranberries in his house throughout the year, patiently waiting for this moment.

The four of you began serving yourselves. However, each time you glanced to your side, the empty seat served as a poignant reminder of Copia's absence. The realization that he wouldn't be home, sharing in the Christmas dinner, weighed heavily on your heart. The inexplicable demands of the clergy, only made it challenging to fully embrace the joy of the occasion.

However, your melancholic thoughts were momentarily interrupted when Secondo extended his arm towards you, pointing to the cranberry sauce placed in front of you. You looked at his hand and took the bowl, passing it to Secondo with a warm smile on your lips.

Primo began, leaning back in his seat. "It's good to have the family reunited. We haven't seen each other that much," he remarked, lifting his glass of wine for a sip. "Especially now that we're not tied up at the Ministry."

"Vero," Secondo agreed, his gaze briefly drifting to the empty seat. "Miss those times, even if they were chaotic."

Terzo, with a smirk, added, "Chaos and all, it was our chaos."

"Sì," Primo nodded, his expression softening. "But, at least we can enjoy Christmas without worrying about being summoned for some arcane ritual or paperwork."

Terzo raised his glass. "To getting a break."

The glasses chimed together in a harmonious toast, and each of you savored a sip of your drinks. Setting the glasses down on the table, you all returned to your meals, continuing to enjoy the Christmas feast.

Primo, his eyes sparkling with mischief, broke the silence. “Remember the time when we were younger and we decided to give the Ministry a taste of our version of Christmas caroling?”

Terzo grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, the ‘Satanic Carolers’ ensemble. Our renditions of classic carols with a satanic twist."

"And who can forget Terzo's attempt at caroling?" Secondo added, sharing a knowing look with Terzo.

Terzo rolled his eyes. "My rendition of 'Jingle Bells' was avant-garde."

“Of course,” Secondo replied with a touch of irony. “Truly groundbreaking.”

“What? You don’t appreciate my avant-garde style?” Terzo asked, turning his face to look at Secondo, who couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Primo and you joined Secondo in laughter, and even Terzo, unable to resist the infectious moment, started to chuckle. With that, the four of you continued with the dinner, savoring the food and exchanging conversations filled with laughter.

Although Copia's absence lingered, the presence of his brothers somehow eased your melancholic thoughts, creating a sense of warmth. The only wish lingering in your mind was for Copia to be home tomorrow, sharing a Christmas lunch with the family.

As the hours slipped away, you all gradually set aside your plates, leaning back in your seats to savor a moment of contentment. Eventually, the four of you to rise and initiate the post-dinner cleanup. Plates and remnants of the feast were gathered, and you moved together to the kitchen.

Side by side, you worked on organizing the leftovers into the refrigerator and washing the dishes. The clatter of plates and the hum of conversation filled the kitchen. Once the tasks were completed, you four returned to the living room, reconvening around the dining table for more conversation and shared wine.

"I just want to thank you all for coming," you expressed with gratitude, a warm smile accompanying your words.

"You don't have to thank us," Primo replied warmly. "You're family now."

"It was great to have you planning this dinner for us," Terzo added.

"That's true, we appreciate it," Secondo acknowledged, taking a contemplative sip of his wine. "Should we get going now?"

Primo nodded ever so slightly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Sì, we should be on our way," he suggested.

"Certo," Secondo concurred. "And thank you for the dinner," he added.

As Secondo and Primo spoke, the four of you gracefully made your way toward the entrance of the Papal Apartment. As you reached the door, you took hold of the doorknob, turning it to open the door for them. The trio stepped out into the hallway, turning to face you.

"Thank you all for coming and staying; I'm sure Copia would have enjoyed it."

"Non preoccuparti," Secondo reassured. "We'll be back for lunch tomorrow, sì?"

"I hope so; there's still an abundance of food left."

"We'll be here," Primo said, gracefully taking your hand and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of it. "Buona notte."

"Good night, Papa," you replied.

"Buona notte," Secondo nodded with a subtle gesture of farewell.

"Good night," you said, a warm smile lighting up your face.

"Buona notte. Don't forget to store the wine correctly for tomorrow," Terzo reminded.

"Of course, I wouldn't forget."

"Bene, molto bene," Terzo nodded, beginning to walk away. However, he paused, turned back to you, and walked in your direction. "I almost forgot," he said, placing his hand in his pocket and extending a neatly folded piece of paper to you. "That's from Copia. Buona fortuna."

Turning away, Terzo rejoined his brothers who were a few steps ahead. Clutching the neatly folded paper in your hand, you closed the door with a measured touch, your brows knit in anticipation. Walking towards the bedroom, you unfolded the paper with a sense of intrigue.

Upon reaching the bedroom, you paused in your steps, entering with a focused gaze fixed on the paper in your hands—Copia's handwritten note. As your eyes traced the lines, you began to read.

As you read these words, Terzo has faithfully passed on this message to you. No need to worry, everything's fine. Remember the first time we bumped into each other at the Ministry? I was immersed in preparing the altar for the mass when you graced me with your presence. Well, head back there. A little surprise awaits you. Yours always, Copia

What was this? What could Copia possibly mean with this note? A treasure hunt crossed your mind, and a laugh escaped your lips at the whimsical idea. Regardless, there was no time to linger on speculation. Your focus sharpened as you realized you needed to reach a specific destination—the Chapel.

Exiting your bedroom with hurried steps, excitement bubbled within you at the prospect of what awaited in the chapel. Could it be Copia? Probably wasn't, as he wasn't at the Ministry, and he wouldn't have skipped the Christmas dinner if he were. As you reached the front door of the Papal Apartment, you swung it open with a sense of urgency. The door closed behind you, and with purposeful strides, you made your way towards the chapel.

As you stepped into the chapel, the familiar scent of incense enveloped you, evoking memories of that first meeting. You still remember it—carrying Terzo's robes, you had entered to find Copia near the altar. He was still a Cardinal back then, and you were merely another sibling of sin toiling diligently within the Ministry. On that day, your paths crossed for the first time. Copia, in his red Cardinal robes, had glanced up as you entered. And for a moment your eyes met, and a subtle understanding passed between you—an unspoken connection.

Looking around the chapel, you felt a moment of uncertainty, you pondered where to go. However, as your gaze shifted towards the altar, a nostalgic sight caught your eye—the old red biretta that Copia used to wear. A bright smile illuminated your face as recognition dawned. You quickly made your way toward the altar, guided by the familiar presence of his cardinal hat.

Reaching for the altar, you delicately cradled the biretta in your hands, feeling the texture of its well-worn fabric. Softness filled your eyes as you gazed at the cardinal hat, a symbol of Copia's past. Nostalgia washed over you as you thought about the times when Copia was the Cardinal. There was a certain amusement in witnessing him in those distinctive red robes. It wasn't that you weren't proud of his role as Papa Emeritus IV; it was just the appreciation for the unique charm he exuded in his earlier cardinal days.

While appreciating Copia's biretta in your hands, you almost overlooked another folded paper hidden beneath it. Gently placing the cardinal hat back on the altar, you retrieved the concealed note. Unfolding it, your eyes were met with yet another message from Copia.

You know, I carry the memory of that day with me in my heart. It's impossible to forget. When our eyes met, it was as if time itself surrendered, leaving just you and me in this unholy Ministry, breathing and existing in the moment. We didn't exchange words back then. You were busy with your tasks, and I had my own to tackle. Yet, I have a confession to make—I was dying to hear your voice. Can you recall where we finally had our first conversation? With love, Copia

Finishing the note, you couldn't contain the excitement that had taken hold of you. Biting your lower lip, you pondered whether to take the biretta with you as a tangible connection to Copia. However, a decision was made to leave it on the altar, preserving the memory of your shared moments within the chapel.

As you walked away from the altar, your steps guided you toward the front door of the chapel. Exiting, you embarked on your way back to the place where your initial conversations with Copia had unfolded—the cafeteria.

The first conversation with Copia might not have been a grand affair, but it held a charm of its own. On that day, a lighthearted encounter in the cafeteria set the stage for a connection that would deepen over time.

It was a morning like any other, as you queued up to grab your breakfast. Unbeknownst to you, Copia entered the line right after you, standing behind. The comical twist came when both of you reached for the last juice box simultaneously, your hands meeting in the process. With a shared chuckle, Copia secured the juice box and extended it to you in a gentle gesture. However, you playfully declined, insisting he had reached for it first. It was a simple exchange marked by a twist of routine, as the juice box wasn't your first morning choice. But at this morning, for some reason, it was.

Entering the deserted cafeteria, your gaze was drawn to a familiar spot. Heading towards the food line, you spotted Copia's Cardinal gloves neatly placed, accompanied by a lone juice box. Placing your hand on top of the gloves, you ran your fingers over the lather textured fabric, and to your surprise, a slight sound echoed. Curiosity piqued, you picked up one of the gloves, discovering a folded paper tucked inside. Retrieving the concealed note, you unfolded it, eager to unveil the next message Copia had left for you.

Your voice, it's like the sweetest melody I've ever known. And when you laugh, it's like a warm embrace for my heart. I want you to know how much I cherish that moment when you chose that juice box on that fateful day, and your generosity in leaving it for me didn't go unnoticed. So now, I'm saving one just for you. Our talk that day may not have been long, but little did we know, it would set the stage for more conversations between us. We became friends, and over time, I found myself falling in love with you. And then, summoning every ounce of courage, I finally told you about my feelings. Do you still recall that day? Do you remember where I bared my heart and told you I loved you? Don't forget the juice box, Copia

A chuckle escaped you as you finished reading the note, and you couldn't help but be amused by Copia's playful hints. Reaching for the juice box, you deftly removed the straw from the back, unwrapping it before inserting it into the box. Taking a sip, a smile played on your lips as memories flooded back. The taste of the juice box held a unique significance, as his kisses, sometimes tasted like the very juice you were sipping.

Yet, this wasn't the time for sentimental reflections. Pushing aside those emotions, you took a deep breath and made your way out of the cafeteria, heading towards the next destination—the hallways. But not just any hallway, a specific one, guided by the clues Copia had left for you.

As time passed, the bond between you and Copia deepened. Your moments together became more frequent, and you discovered comfort in each other's presence. Sneaking into his Cardinal's cabinet became a routine, a chance to share the day, whether in conversation or in peaceful silence. In those quiet moments, the ease between you two reassured you that there was nothing to worry about.

The day Copia confessed his love for you was entirely unexpected. The two of you were strolling down the hallway en route to the library, where Copia needed to organize some archives. You offered him a helping hand, even though you were fairly certain he didn't require any assistance. Surprisingly, he accepted your offer.

As you walked together, a comfortable silence settled between you. The rhythmic sound of your synchronized footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. Suddenly, out of nowhere, his voice broke the silence, uttering three words that initially took a moment to register. After a brief pause, your mind comprehended—Copia had just said, "I love you."

And just as Copia had fallen in love, so had you.

Approaching the spot in the hallway where Copia had confessed his love, you noticed a folder lying on the floor. Bending down to retrieve it, you discovered a paper tucked inside. Pulling out the note, you unfolded it, eager to read the words wrote by Copia, perhaps offering another clue in the unfolding mystery of this treasure hunt.

The confession just burst out of me, guided by an overwhelming desire to shout my love to the world. I thought I might regret it, but to my surprise, I didn't—never have. The day I confessed my love was also the day I kissed you. Though, regrettably, it didn't happen right then. Just as I spilled my feelings, some siblings showed up, and we hastily made our way to the library. The ensuing silence was the most agonizing I've ever endured in your presence. Saying "I love you" without hearing it back left me sweating beneath my cassock. Yet, when we finally left, you spoke those words at the very spot where we had our first kiss. Can you recall where that was? We're almost at the end of this little game, and your gift awaits there. I love you. I love you more than words can express. I wish I could whisper those three words to you every minute of my day, Copia

Taking a deep breath, you leaned against the cold marble wall in the hallway, feeling its chill against your back. That day, and the kiss you both shared, are etched in your memory. When he uttered those three words, your heart threatened to burst, and the inability to reciprocate immediately left you in a momentary desperation.

From that moment onward, not a day passed without both of you expressing your love for each other. Stepping away from the chilly wall, you eagerly headed towards the place where your love story began—the Cardinal's cabinet.

After leaving the library that day, both of you carried archives in your hands, enveloped in a shared silence. The synchronicity of your steps faltered, as his pace quickened, and you hurriedly followed him down the hallway to his cabinet. And as you both entered the cabinet, Copia remained silent, almost as if he were anticipating something.

As you closed the door behind you and confessed your love, Copia turned towards you, drawing his face closer, almost reaching the point of a kiss. Perplexingly, he paused, perhaps awaiting a cue. In your impatience, you closed the gap before he could, and both of you let the archives fall to the floor, embracing each other passionately.

Standing in front of his old cabinet's door, uncertainty lingered about whether it would swing open. You reached for the doorknob and found it unexpectedly open. Pushing it open, you stepped into the now vacant space, a testament to his transfer to Papa's office.

Looking around the room, nothing immediately caught your eye. Wandering around, you systematically checked every nook and cranny, rifling through drawers and inspecting empty shelves. The note remained elusive. It wasn't until you halted beside his table and glanced towards the door that you spotted the note, suspended by a piece of tape.

You placed the empty juice box on the top of his old desk, hurrying to the door with a smile. You took the note and unfolded it, eager to read the note left for you.

When those three words finally escaped your lips, an irresistible urge propelled me to kiss you immediately. Yet, a fleeting doubt crossed my mind—was it a reciprocation or a repetition? However, as you closed the gap and our lips met, I understood, and the taste of that kiss is etched in my memory. We shared numerous kisses within the Ministry, especially in this cabinet. One night, you lingered with me until the late hours. I wrapped up my work, and just like any other day, I planted a goodnight kiss on your lips. However, that kiss took an unexpected turn, leading us somewhere else. In that place, we became one. Your gift awaits there, Copia

Opening the door to his old cabinet, you swiftly exited, closing it behind you with determination. Without a second thought, you knew it was time for your last stop—his old chambers.

The night referenced in the note held the memory of the evening you and Copia shared a heated kiss—an unforgettable moment when neither of you wanted to part. The unspoken desire lingering in that kiss set the stage for what felt like an inevitable path towards spending your first night together. Copia, sensing the shared passion, asked if you wanted to accompany him to his chambers.

Without hesitation, you accepted. As you both entered his chambers, your lips were already engaged in a fervent kiss. The desire between you two was palpable, prompting a delicate dance of undressing without breaking the kiss. As you both managed to shed your clothes, each second of separation filled with a longing that only intensified the desire.

On that night, as the note exposed, you and Copia became one. And it proved to be one of the most memorable and intimate nights you had ever shared with someone.

Approaching the door to his chambers, a soft glow of candlelight seeped through the narrow gap underneath. Your hand reached for the doorknob, and as you opened the door, the room revealed itself bathed in the gentle illumination of flickering candles. The ambiance was serene, with nothing out of place except for the impeccably made bed.

Stepping inside, you closed the door behind you, enveloping the room in a sense of intimacy. A warm smile graced your lips as you took a moment to survey the familiar surroundings. It had been a while since you last set foot in this space—since Copia ascended to the role of Papa Emeritus and subsequently moved to the Papal Apartment, inviting you to join him.

Approaching his neatly made bed, you noticed the final folded paper resting on top. Picking it up, you unfolded it with anticipation, ready to read the last message that Copia had left for you.

You, the most sinful creation molded by the skilled hands of our Dark Lord, leave me utterly enchanted. Every nuance of your body, every inch, every fragment, fuels an ever-growing love within me. It's almost surreal to think that Satan himself could have blessed me with you, but I express gratitude to him daily. This place holds the memories of our first time and countless others. It's where you truly became mine, and I became yours. I brought you here with the simple desire to reclaim you as mine once again. I promised you a gift, didn't I? So, why don't you turn around?

Finishing the note, you raised your head and turned your body, only to find Copia on his knees right behind you. A sweet smile adorned his face as he extended his hand toward you. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and you bit your lower lip to contain the emotions welling up within you.

Extending your hand to meet his, Copia delicately held it, placing a tender kiss on the back and brushing his nose against it. As he lifted his head to meet your gaze, parting his lips.

"We've been together for so many years," he began, his words laced with sentiment. "Countless memories, myriad places, and an abundance of moments that have woven our lives together. You've been the constant flame that has illuminated my heart, making each moment brighter and more meaningful. Your love has become the sacred devotion that binds me to you," with another tender kiss on the back of your hand, he continued, "I brought you here today because I want to recommit myself to you, to reclaim you as mine. And no, amore mio, I'm not talking about the physical aspect. Would you honor me with the privilege of marrying me?" he asked, his gaze sincere and filled with love.

"W-What?" you stammered, your eyes widening in surprise. "What did you just say?"

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting nervously. "I asked you if you want to... Eeh..." As he started to stand up from his knees, uncertainty painted his expression. "I- I... Maybe it's too soon, sì?" he questioned, his voice laced with a hint of self-doubt.

A stunned silence enveloped you as you processed what had just transpired—Copia had just proposed. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly felt his hands gently touching your face, cupping it, and turning it towards him. Your eyes locked, and in that intimate gaze, you could discern a subtle tremor in his usually composed demeanor.

"Copia..." you whispered, your voice soft as you closed your eyes.

"S-Sì?" His response held a hint of anticipation and nervousness.

"It's not too soon," a smile graced your lips as you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. "You don't have to ask me twice; of course, I'll marry you."

"Vita mia..." he whispered, drawing his face closer to yours, hovering just inches away, teasing with the possibility of a kiss. "Are you attempting to assassinate your Papa at Christmas?"

You laughed, shaking your head gently. "Never," you replied. "You simply caught me off guard."

"Isn't that how marriage proposals should be?" he inquired, tilting his head, his thumbs tenderly caressing your cheeks.

"I guess?" you smiled, your gaze moving from his eyes to his inviting lips.

“I'm sure of it, amore,” he whispered, his lips brushing the corner of yours, "So, do your Papa get his Christmas kiss now, or should he expect for a mistletoe?"

You grinned, your eyes twinkling mischievously. “How about both?” Your lips hovered closer, the temptation growing with each passing moment. "Although I don't have a mistletoe with me right now..."

With a nearly imperceptible nod, Copia closed the lingering distance between you. His lips finally united with yours in a romantic, unhurried kiss, steeped in both longing and devotion. His hands cradled your face with tenderness, while your own settled at his waist, fingers grasping his shirt with a touch of possessiveness.

The kiss unfolded with a deliberate slowness, a dance of passion free from the urgency of teeth and tongues. It spoke volumes of a love so profound that words paled in comparison. As the connection deepened, you found yourself surrendering to the moment, lost in its enchantment.

The gentle caress of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine. His touch, gentle yet firm, prompted your arms to wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer as his own encircled your waist, holding you close. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating a comforting heat. The rhythmic thud of his heart against your chest resonated in harmony.

The sweetness of his mouth lingered, fueling a desire for more. Your arms left his neck, trailing down his back, pulling him in closer. His response was an intensified kiss, his tongue delicately exploring the contours of your mouth.

The connection deepened, an electric current coursing through your body. It felt as if an invisible force tethered you two, compelling a response. Your lips parted, allowing an intricate dance of tongues to unfold. As the intensity peaked, you summoned the strength to pull away, your fingers gradually tracing a path with your fingertips from his back to his chest.

"Copia..." the velvety tone of your voice wrapped around his name.

"Sì, amore mio?" He responded, gently.

"When did you arrive here?" You traced your fingers along the contours of his chest, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Not a long time ago," he replied, his hands moving from your waist to your hips, drawing you in closer.

Your fingers toyed with the fabric around his neck, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "So you planned all of this?"

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "Euhh... Sì..."

A mock expression of anger crossed your face as you accused, "So you knew you'd be at the Ministry, and you lied to me!"

"Oh, amore mio," he chuckled, leaning his face closer to yours once again. "I wasn't certain about the exact time I'd arrive. I needed to be sure I could make it work. But It was a good reason to lie, sì?"

"How long have you been planning this?" you inquired in a soft tone.

Copia turned to you, the smile still gracing his face. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time. Since I realized how you make my dark world brighter, and I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. I can't wait to spend the rest of my existence making you as happy as you make me."

"Copia, I'm already happy by your side," you murmured. "But, you know," you began, tracing circles on his chest with your fingertips, "you're not getting away with proposing without answering some important questions."

Copia grinned, his eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at you. "Ask away, vita mia."

"Firstly," you said, feigning a serious tone, "how did you manage to plan all this without me catching a single hint? I thought I knew all your secrets."

Copia chuckled, his thumb gently caressing your hand. "A Papa Emeritus always has a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Nice answer," a giggle escaped from your lips. "Secondly, was this grand proposal plan your own masterpiece, or did your brothers offer their expert opinions?"

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "As much as I'd love to credit Primo, Secondo and Terzo with impeccable romantic taste, this plan was all mine. I wanted it to be special, just for us. However, they helped me to gain some time."

"They did what?" You laughed. "Smooth, Papa. Very smooth. Now, the last and most crucial question—did you rehearse your proposal lines in front of a mirror?"

"Oh!" Copia's expression shifted to a mockingly serious tone. "Absolutely not!" He followed it with a playful chuckle. "Eh, maybe just a little?"

You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. "A little?"

"Well, every great performance deserves a bit of rehearsal, sì?" Copia grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Vieni qui, amore mio," he gently pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together, and took your lips in another kiss.

This time, the kiss was deeper and passionate. Copia's touch ignited a fire within you. His hands explored your body with a hunger. Fingers traced sensuous patterns along your sides, dipped down to your hips, and returned to the curve of your waist. Copia's arms enveloped you, pulling you close as if he couldn't get enough of the taste, the touch, the essence of you.

As a soft moan escaped your lips, Copia's tongue danced with yours in a passionate exploration. Your arms tightened around his neck, and you responded eagerly, deepening the connection. Copia sighed into the kiss, his head tilting to intensify the intimate dance. Your tongues met in a heated battle, and he groaned against your lips.

Once again, Copia's hands roamed your body, trailing along your spine and tracing the contours of your curves. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine. Your bodies molded together seamlessly, and every sensation became a blur of pleasure. Copia's lips moved with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

The kiss intensified, and a symphony of moans, sighs, and the occasional purr resonated between you. Copia's breath mingled with yours, creating an intoxicating match of lust. The kiss became a fusion of desire and longing, that left you breathless and craving more.

But with a reluctant sigh, you summoned the strength to pull away—gasping for air. Your lips lingering for a moment longer before parting. The air crackled with the energy of the heated kiss, and Copia's eyes, still darkened with desire, met yours.

"S-Should we head upstairs...?" you inquired, your breath catching.

Copia's eyes, clouded with desire, met yours as he caught his breath. "As much as I'd love to, amore mio," he murmured, "I've missed you so much, and if we go upstairs, I won't be able to contain myself in the middle of the way."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "Oh, so you're saying you'd lose control?"

Copia's grin widened, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. "Entirely. I'm just a Papa who's been missing his better half."

"So why don't you fuck me right here, on your own bed, like you've missed me so much?"

Copia's eyes deepened with desire, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he fixed his gaze on you. Mischief flickered in his mismatched eyes. "Are you absolutely certain about what you're asking?" he inquired, his voice taking on a husky tone.

"I'm well aware of what I'm asking for," you whispered, trailing your tongue from his lips to the tip of his nose.

"Cazzo, ti amo così tanto," he murmured with a voice heavy with desire.

Copia enveloped you in his arms, and you guided him towards his bed. Grasping the fabric around his neck, you pulled him with you until your calves met the mattress. Sensing it, you gradually descended, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Copia positioned himself on his knees in front of you, maintaining an unwavering gaze. Without diverting his eyes, he initiated the task of undressing you, deliberately unhurried in his movements.

As he finished undressing you, leaving you only in your underwear, he planted a tender peck on your lips. "Don't move," he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of lustful anticipation.

Copia rose, beginning to work on unbuttoning his shirt, but he halted abruptly as you drew your face closer to his crotch, lightly brushing your lips against his evident bulge. You turned your attention to him, mouthing the undoing of his pants, causing Copia to inhale sharply, biting his lower lip. His hand found its way to your head, gently caressing your scalp, and he knelt in front of you once again.

Copia's eyes glinted with a playful intensity as he whispered, his voice tinged with lust, "You're behaving like a very naughty mischief-maker. I don't think Santa will give you a present this year."

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you reached up, cupping his face in your hand and gently caressing his cheek. "And what about you, Papa?" you asked, your tone a sultry invitation. "Will you give me a present?"

Copia's gaze held yours, a hint of desire dancing in his eyes. "Oh, amore mio," he replied, his voice a seductive murmur, "I have a present for you that Santa could never deliver."

He drew closer, pressing his face against your neck, initiating a series of kisses and gentle licks. In that moment, a rush of anticipation surged within you as he drew near. His lips sought yours in a kiss that blended gentleness with passion. His tongue traced the curves of your mouth, hinting at the pleasure yet to unfold. Eagerly, your lips parted, inviting him in, and a tantalizing dance ensued as your tongues entwined, orchestrating a sensuous tango that erased the world around you.

Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, and you gracefully reclined on your back, maintaining the kiss without breaking its spell. Copia, crawled on top of you, his movements deliberate and confident.

His body seamlessly melding with yours in a flawless union. With each movement, the fabric of his clothes provided no resistance to the warmth of his skin. The linen material of his shirt glided between your bodies, generating a sensuous friction that intensified every touch and caress.

The weight of his body upon yours provided both comfort and arousa. Arching against him, you yearned for increased contact and friction. His hands delicately explored every curve and crevice of your body, leaving a lingering trail of electricity in their wake.

Breaking the kiss, he shifted his attention to nibble on your neck, the sensation of his stubble grazing against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine. His lips returned to yours, and as his hand descended, it cupped your ass, drawing you closer. The friction of his hardness against your mound became almost intoxicating. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as he deepened the connection.

The rhythm of his hips synchronized with the beat of your heart. His fingers skillfully navigated between you two, indulging in delicate touches on your thighs before ascending higher. His palm grazed your warmth through your underwear, eliciting a gasp that sent tickles of pleasure coursing through your body. Fingers tightly gripped his hair as you held him close, writhing beneath him, yearning for more of his intoxicating touch.

As if sensing your desires, Copia broke the kiss. "Amore mio, I want to feel you," his lips traced a tantalizing path along your jawline, nibbling your earlobe. "Do you want me to to make you cum, amore? Do you want me to make you scream my name?" His fingers deftly slid beneath the fabric of your underwear, gently stroking your clit, igniting a fire of sensation that left you breathless.

Eagerly nodding your head, your hips instinctively bucked, your core pulsating against his skilled fingers. Copia chuckled devilishly at your response. With your back arching, an unspoken invitation, he seized the opportunity, lifting you just enough to deftly slip off your underwear.

"You're so wet," he murmured. "I can feel how much you want me."

You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, and with a sense of urgency, you reached down to stroke him through his jeans. A deep groan escaped Copia's lips, the resonant sound vibrating through you, heightening the anticipation. Copia, attuned to your needs, returned his hand to your wetness, trailing his gloved fingers along your slit before skillfully sliding one finger inside of you. The sensation ignited a surge of pleasure, causing your inner walls to clench in response.

Moaning, you found it difficult to articulate words as Copia withdrew his finger from inside you, tracing a teasing path along your wet slit. The sensation left you aching for more. He slid one gloved finger inside you again, followed by another, filling you in a way that made your toes curl with pleasure. The initial slow and deliberate movements gave way to a faster, harder rhythm as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

"Oh, fuck!" you gasped, grabbing his hand as it ventured between your thighs. "yes-yes-yes-yes! Just-Ah! Copia! Calm down, or you'll make me cum fast!"

"Calm down?" he inquired, his gaze filled with desire. "I'm perfectly composed, amore. Just doing as instructed, fucking you like I've been missing you."

Your moans intensified, head tossed back, hips gyrating against his hand. Introducing a third finger, he expanded you further, evoking a cry from your lips. Copia skillfully curled his fingers, striking your sweet spot, unleashing waves of pleasure that caused your eyes to roll back and your lips to part. Gripping his shoulders, you dug your nails into him as he persistently worked his fingers in and out of you.

"CoO-Oh-pia!" your voice quivered, your legs beginning to tremble. "Co...Co...Copia-Ah! Ple-Plea...Please!"

He instinctively lowered his body, withdrawing his fingers from you. Swiftly, his face moved between your legs, engulfing your essence with an eager pull, consuming every inch with his mouth. From the base to the summit and back down, he licked you in a rhythmic repetition. He repeated this motion over and over, sucking your clit as he did so.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, squeezing your eyes shut. "For the love of Satan, Copia!"

Copia chuckled against your wetness, then closed his eyes and placed his hands on your thighs, keeping them open for him. He persisted in licking and sucking, his tongue darting in and out, exploring every inch of your wetness. Advancing to your clit, he flicked it with the tip of his tongue before drawing it into his mouth once more.

Drawing his head back from your core, you gasped, feeling the absence of sensations. As you opened your eyes, you were met with his smudged face, the paint around his lips almost turning gray. Casting a mischievous glance at you, Copia darted his tongue out, licking your slit while locking eyes with you. The intense gaze prompted you to bite your lower lip in response.

"You're quite the sight, Copia," you teased.

"Trying to provoke me, amore?" he asked with a husky voice, lowering his face to your wetness once again, his lips grazing against your folds. "Ever heard that it's not polite to make fun of someone while they're enjoying their meal? Consider this my Christmas dinner. Don't tempt me too much, or you might find yourself the messy one here soon."

Wearing a devilish grin, he licked his lips, relishing the taste of you. Unable to resist, a smile played on your lips as you felt the warmth of his mouth against your core. Copia's eyes focused on your face, studying your features. Suddenly, a low groan escaped his lips, and he delved back into devouring your wetness with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue danced around your clit, prompting you to writhe in ecstasy. The fervor of his licks sent electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your entire body.

"C-Copia... I swear, you're going to make me cum..." you whimpered.

"No, I won't," he declared, withdrawing his head from your core. "Because you're only allowed to cum on my cock and with my cock inside you, capito?"

You nodded, and Copia smirked. Unexpectedly, he thrust his tongue inside you, skillfully swirling it around your walls. A whimper escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. Your hips arched from the bed, and you ground your core against his face, sliding your clit up and down his nose. With one hand, you reached to grab his head, pressing it firmly against your core. Copia intensified his exploration of your wetness, rolling his eyes in pleasure, breathing warmly against your entrance. The sensation of his breath caused your legs to tremble.

You slid your hand to the top of his head, gently pulling it away as you shifted your hips back. Copia, undeterred, pulled you back towards him, gripping your thighs tightly. Leaving one hand on your thigh, he ventured with the other to your core, thrusting two gloved fingers inside you. A scream escaped your lips at the sensation of his fingers filling you, only to be followed by another cry as his thumb found your clit, skillfully rubbing it in circles, sending waves of pleasure that drove you wild.

"No! Oh, fuck!" you exclaimed, your breath coming fast. "Copia, please... you know I can't hold it if you do it like that."

Maintaining his fingers inside you, he gracefully positioned himself atop you, his face hovering above yours. His knees pressed against your legs, parting them for him. Your gaze met his, and he gently rested his forehead against yours. You tilted your face, capturing a tender kiss from his lips, all the while wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't play naughty, amore," he growled. "Behave, and you just might unwrap your present."

"P-Present...? Ah!" you gasped. "What present, Papa?"

"My cock, fucking you the way you like it," he whispered huskily.

He persisted, his fingers maintaining a steady rhythm as they moved in and out of you. Your orgasm was steadily building, and you could feel your juices flowing, coating his gloved fingers as they expertly maneuvered inside of you. A loud moan escaped your lips, prompting him to intensify the pace of his fingers, thrusting deeper and faster. The room echoed with the sound of his leather gloves sliding inside you, merging with the symphony of your breath.

This sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you knew you were close, but Copia abruptly halted, withdrawing his fingers. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, yearning for more, craving the continued touch.

"Please, don't stop," you begged, your voice quivering with desire.

Copia smirked, "You want more?"

"Yes..." you purred, "please."

Copia's smile deepened, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and mischief. "Not yet," he declared, his voice low. "I want to make it last."

His fingers traced a tantalizing path along your inner thighs, eliciting shivers of anticipation. Moving his hand between your legs, his fingers found your wetness once again. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your breath now coming in short gasps.

"Stop teasing me," you pleaded. "I need your cock."

Copia grinned devilishly, his hands reaching for your legs as he pulled back, getting on his knees in front of you. "Do you, amore?" He went for his pants, starting to undo them, letting his length swing free. "You want my cock?" he asked, using his gloved hand—still coated with your juices—to stroke his member lazily.

"Yes!" you gasped, your eyes fixed on the glistening tip of his member. "Please, I ache for your cock inside me."

Copia bit his lower lip while stroking his length, the wetness on his palm audibly spreading along his arousal. He began to breathe heavily and closed his eyes. Sensing the charged atmosphere, you slowly slid your hand between your legs, teasing your clit with circular motions.

Trying to stifle your moans, you pressed your lips together and whimpered, observing him pleasing himself in front of you. Continuing to tease your clit, you couldn't resist any longer, sliding two fingers inside yourself. Arching your back, you moaned loud as you began thrusting them in and out, succumbing to the pleasure building within you.

Copia's voice reached your ears, prompting you to open your eyes. "What are you doing?" he inquired.

Your eyes locked onto Copia's, who had a look of pure satisfaction on his face. Seeing your own enjoyment reflected in his expression. You increased the pace, moving your fingers faster and deeper, the sensations becoming too much to handle. You could feel your body tingling with pleasure, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before you would succumb to the intense sensations.

"Why are you playing with my dinner?" He adopted a more serious tone, grabbing your hand to stop you.

"C-Copia..." you took a deep breath. "I just need... I need you..."

Copia sighed, shaking his head, skillfully guiding his member between your folds as he pulled your fingers out of your entrance. You instinctively moved your hips, as if craving more, attempting to adjust your entrance to the tip of his length. However, Copia halted you, placing a firm hand on your stomach and gently lowering your hips.

"No..." Copia murmured, firmly holding his member and delivering a teasing slap against your wetness, the sound resonating through the room. "Comportati."

Copia sensually brought your fingers to his mouth, licking and mouthing them with a moan that echoed softly. As his mouth closed around your fingers, his tongue skillfully contoured them, creating an arousing suction. Meanwhile, he increased the pace of his self-stimulation, moving his hips in a rhythmic thrust against his own hand. The tip of his member collided with your heat, expertly rubbing against your clit.

He pulled your fingers out of his mouth with a distinct "pop" sound and gave them a final lick, locking eyes with you. "Turn for me, amore," he commanded, tapping your waist.

Obediently, you turned your body, laying down on your stomach, but swiftly, Copia gripped your waist, pulling your hips up to meet his. The sensation of his member pressed against you ignited a fervent response, and you began to move your hips, stealing a glance at him behind you. Unperturbed, Copia started removing his gloves, an act that hinted at his effort to restrain himself.

As he peeled off his gloves, his bare hands reached for your hips, sensually caressing them. "So desperate for me, amore," he whispered. "I love it when you're like that."

"Please, Copia," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want you. Fuck me."

His eyes darkened with desire as he observed your hips moving against him. Biting his lip, he struggled to maintain control but succumbed to the overwhelming temptation. His hands found their way to your back, skillfully massaging away the tension from your muscles. The touch was firm yet gentle, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you. His hand glided down the small of your back, cupping one of your ass cheeks in his palm.

"I want you too," his hands shifted to your hips, pulling them closer to him.

His hardness pressed more insistently against you as he drew himself closer. "Fuck me, Copia."

With a groan, Copia pressed his hardness against your entrance. You were so wet that he slid in easily, filling you completely with one thrust. A moan escaped your lips, your body arching back into him. Copia began to move slowly, savoring the sensation of being inside you. Your body felt like heaven, and he wanted to make the experience last as long as possible. His hands gripped your hips, holding you still as he moved within you.

Copia, his voice low and filled with a seductive rasp, whispered, "Feel the pleasure, my sinful muse, as our bodies intertwine," he smiled and began to move faster. "Like an offering to the darkness that binds us," he continued, slamming into you with each trust. "Every moan, every gasp, a hymn in the name our unholy communion on this unholy night."

You gasped at his words, gripping the sheets firmly as Copia picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. Each thrust sent a wave of pleasure through you, his length hitting your cervix repeatedly, delving deeper with every movement. He lowered his body on top of yours, reaching for your hands to hold them firmly. Pressing kisses on your cheek, he traced a path from there to your back, leaving a trail of sensation in his wake.

"Yes, Copia... Mmm... Copia," you purred, your eyes closing as you held his hand in a firm grip. "Oh, yes, just like that! You fuck me so good."

"You're so tight," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I can't help but fuck you harder."

Your bodies moved in unison, a dance of perfect harmony. His hips slammed against your ass cheeks, the rhythmic sound filling the room and intertwining with your shared breaths and moans. His hands left yours, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you firmly against him. The sensation of his hardness sliding in and out of you was incredible, and you were lost in pleasure, the loud moans that came out of your mouth became unable to control.

"Pap-Ahhh..." you moaned, your eyes fluttering in pleasure as you felt his steady rhythm, his member sliding in and out of your tightness with ease.

His thrusts quickened, the audible sound of flesh slapping against flesh growing louder. Copia released his arms from around you, straightening his body. Temporarily halting his thrusts, he moved his hands to his shirt, skillfully unbuttoning it. Turning your head to watch, you clenched your walls around him, the anticipation building as his body was slowly revealed. His hairy chest formed a trail of masculinity down to his happy trail, prompting you to bite your lower lip.

Fueled by lust, you seized control, slamming your hips against him and taking charge of the rhythm, fucking yourself on his length. Copia let out a guttural growl, tearing off his shirt and tossing it aside. His hands returned to your hips, and he watched you intently as you moved your hips against his.

"Sì, sì, sì," he moaned. "Sì-Ah! Amore mio, you're amazing, so perfect for me, so eager," his fingers digging into your skin. "So hot, so wet, so tight, so incredibly beautiful as you ride my cock."

His eyes brimmed with lust, the hunger evident in their depths. His hands on your hips guided your movements as he started to move his own hips against yours. Abruptly, he pulled back, eliciting a whimper of emptiness from you as your hips fell onto the bed. Rising from the bed, he swiftly pulled his pants down, leaving them discarded on the floor.

Copia returned to the bed, crawling on top of you. Lowering his face onto the top of your back, he pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder and cheek. "Are you ready to cum for me, amore?" he whispered, brushing his nose against your cheek.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a silent understanding passing between you as you nodded. Copia responded with a smirk, supporting his hands on the bed, lifting his body. Skillfully moving his hips, he adjusted his position behind you and effortlessly guided his member back inside you, delving even deeper.

The moment he entered you, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You felt his shaft stretching you to the limit, filling every inch of your body with his warmth. The sensation was overwhelming as he began to move inside you, each thrust sending waved of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Make me cum," you purred. "And fill me with your cum, Papa."

Continuing his rhythmic motions, he clutched the sheets for leverage. You pressed your hips against him, mirroring the increasing intensity of his pace. Your body responded eagerly to the sensations he crafted. His breathing grew heavier, each exhale carrying a sense of urgency, and his movements became more intense and erratic.

"I'm going to cum, amore," he announced. "I'm going to fill your tight, warm pussy."

You could feel his member pulsing inside you, and then, with a final thrust, he released himself within you. The sensation of his seed filling you up sent you over the edge. Your body trembled as the waves of your orgasm washed over you. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing against you as you both caught your breath, your bodies shuddering in the aftermath of pleasure.

Copia delicately withdrew from your body, a lingering trace of his essence left behind. Reclining beside you, his body turned towards yours, he extended a gentle hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb. A weary smile adorned your face, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

With closed eyes, you slowly shifted towards him, seeking proximity. Copia encircled his arms around you, pulling you closer. His forehead parted from yours, planting a tender kiss on it. As you bit your lip, your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze with a mix of emotions.

"I love you," he declared, his eyes brimming with adoration.

"I love you more," you playfully countered.

"That's impossible, amore mio," he chuckled. "After all, it was I who proposed to you tonight, so that means I love you more."

"Does it?" you began, adopting a teasing tone. "But Copia, if you proposed to me, where's the... ring?" you chuckled.

"Uh... Eh!" With a confidant grin, he turned his back to you reaching for his pants on the floor, delving into his pants' pocket. He pulled it out with his hand closed, turning his body back to your direction. With a theatrical flair, he opened his hand, revealing the ring nestled in his palm. "Ta-da!" he exclaimed, a glint of triumph in his eyes.

A soft chuckle escaped you as you leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss onto his lips. Copia reciprocated by reaching for your hand, bringing it closer to his face and pressing a tender kiss onto the back of your hand. His touch was gentle yet deliberate as he delicately slipped the ring onto your finger. As the ring found its place, a radiant smile adorned his lips, and his eyes sparkled with joy as he admired the newly adorned hand.

"Well, I guess that means we're stuck with each other now," you said, a warm smile playing on your lips.

"Forever, amore," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of joy and affection. Leaning in for another kiss, he paused just before closing the gap.

Yearning for him to close the gap, your hand goes to his face, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "What's wrong?"

His eyes sparkled with adoration as he caressed the back of your hand. He stared at you in silence for a moment, you can see his eyes tracing the features of your face “I'm really in love with you," a wide smile start to grew on is lips. "Merry Christmas, my soon-to-be forever partner."

And then, with that, Copia closed the gap between you two, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both sweet and slow. The taste lingered, carrying the feeling of the shared promise of forever.

Grammar

Amore (mio) - My love

Per favore, mi dispiace - Please, I'm sorry

Ti amo così tanto - I love you so much

Gruppo di vecchi, rabbiosi idioti - Group of old, grumpy idiots

Fratello - Brother

Stai zitto - Be quiet

Vecchi - Old

Mangiamo, sto morendo di fame - Let's eat, I'm starving

Vero - True

Sì - Yes

Certo - Certainly

Non preoccuparti - Don't worry

Buona notte - Good night

Bene, molto bene - Well, very well

Buona fortuna - Good luck

Vita mia - My life

Vieni qui, amore mio - Come here, my love

Capito? - Understood?

Comportati - Behave

[corollaservant]

False Alarm // Kenjaku x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: He never smoked. But then again, he lost himself along the way.

Warnings: noncon, smoking, signs of panic attack, degradation, violence, deception, humiliation... Kenny stuff.

A/N: don't hate me, Kenny is the perf man for dark concepts.

The last time you saw him was in 2007. He seemed sedated for some time, looking like he woke up and slept—if he ever slept—out of necessity, his lips on yours felt foreign and a burden would always accompany him. You hadn’t ever asked, what would you even say “Hey, is everything alright?’’ and what was he supposed to answer? ‘’Yes, everything’s fine’’. Not like it’d be the truth anyways. The last night you saw him was in 2007.

It was around 3 AM when he entered the bedroom, smoke filled the room as you looked at him. He never smoked, apart from some earlier mischief with his best friend as he sat next to you.

‘’Have you been smoking?’’ You quietly asked him as he sighed.

‘’Yes, had to give Shoko my lighter today and figured I might as well have one myself’’

He spoke so calmly, like everything was alright, like everything was like before.

The next day you woke up in an empty bed with a lighter to your nightstand. There was no letter or note as he exited your life and never came back.

-

It wasn’t like you didn’t know. He never intended to hide his actions, never once tried to stay undercover, intentions loud and clear and if you weren’t to find out from newspapers and various media outlets covering the crimes, a visit from his best friend would suffice. You hadn’t reacted much really, usually pain hit when you least expected it—not when Gojo would list you the heinous crimes but when you were in the snack aisle holding your groceries and saw his favorite crackers, silly things really. Ache was a funny thing.

10 years went by and your routine had not once diverted, home–work–home. Most of your friends stopped contacting you for a night out, seeing how you’d decline each and every time and you didn’t really blame them. They most likely wouldn’t understand. The door was unlocked when you entered the apartment floor and your heart sank. A domestic burglary was the last thing you wanted, shit, you didn’t even care about any belongings, his lighter was always with you and there were no prized possessions in the once shared apartment. But you were exhausted.

A figure stood facing the window next to the bed, wearing what seemed like a kimono over a robe that people 2500 years ago wore and sandals—enjoying a cigarette as you froze.

‘’W–what are you doing here?’’ You asked, stupid, yeah, who asks that? But fear stricken as you were and ready to dial the emergency number—your heart suddenly skipped a beat.

The figure had his hair, what was going on?

‘’Did you miss me?’’ A soft honeyed voice that made your skin crawl said as Suguru turned to look at you. Your eyes widened and you backtracked, colliding with the wall behind you as you dropped the bag you were holding and screamed. Loud.

‘’Who the fuck are you?’’ You yelled as you saw a line of stitches sloppily circle around what used to be your lover’s forehead. He had his hooded eyes and smile but you knew better. Whoever this freak was could never imitate the laced with care and love words that escaped Suguru’s mouth. Before he left. Before—

‘’What the hell did you do to him?’’ The more you talked, the more a sardonic smile crept up his mouth, deforming what used to be the prettiest smile in the world.

‘’I wouldn’t call if I were you’.’ He inhaled the last puff and tossed the cigarette mindlessly out the window, as he approached you.

Your hands were frozen, you wouldn’t have been able to dial anyone either way, when he spoke again.

‘’Funny thing, the memories, aren’t they? I had this feeling today you know..’’

‘’Where is he?’’ You cried, as he sighed.

‘’Please don’t interrupt me, he’s dead, what do you mean 'where is he'? As I was saying..’’

His words made your knees sting, as you fell to the floor, choking on a cry—it wasn’t like you hadn't made a decent effort to register his death, but the spitting image ahead of you felt like you were atoning for sins you never committed. It was too much, too painful, too sadistic.

‘’I had this, let's call it...instinct to smoke today and visit you. Matter of fact, my feet dragged me all the way here so I was curious to see what the..fuss was all about.’’ He spoke eyeing you up at 'fuss'. You didn’t understand a thing but wished for whatever this was to end as you closed your eyes. Please! You silently heard yourself say. Or maybe you didn't speak a word.

‘’Yeah, I kind of get it now...you look nice after all. Do you smoke?’’ He asked, bringing himself even closer, the apartment was small and he had you touching the wall, the shadow of his Kasaya casting a dark light in front of you.

‘’I- I don’t smoke,’’ ‘’P–please leave..’’ His eyes, these eyes that used to make love to you, hug you and gently wash your hair, bring you tea in the morning, wrap around your waist..

‘’Oh, that’s too bad.’’ He spoke as if he contemplated, smirking to himself once he noticed your bowed head.

‘’Mind looking up?’’ He came even closer, so close you could feel him on you—he didn’t really wait to bring his finger, a cold sensation against your chin and lift it to look at him.

‘’Be honest. Isn’t this my best work?’’ He moved the face left and right, showing you horrible—pretty angles of your old boyfriend. Your eyes quivered, tears fell down your cheeks, down your chin, down the floor. A bile formed at the back of your throat.

‘’Would you kiss me?’’ He asked rhetorically, it wasn’t like he cared about your opinion, it was more as if he was asking himself, experimenting with a predetermined outcome as you sniffed and felt a strong hand travel down your neck, pinning you to the wall. No! Stop asking questions! Leave!

‘’Well...it doesn’t matter really, cause you will now.’’ He said as his mouth touched yours. Soft lips. Same feeling. Memories. Your lips parted to cry and he squeezed the sides of your neck, blocking the air and sliding his tongue in your mouth.

This wasn’t Suguru and you weren’t supposed to be kissing him. This wasn’t his hair, his mouth, his eyes albeit your heart racing and a known sensation flooding your chest. His breath was hot as he growled and you squirmed, tears soaking him.

‘’S-stop..’’ You whined, thinking back to all the times you thought Suguru leaving you, abandoning you was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you. This couldn’t even be compared.

‘’P–please! I-I will not tell anyone, I—will do whatever you want—just—’’

‘’Then be silent cause you will be doing what I want regardless.’’ He smiled, the same sinister smile and you started breathing heavily, shit, this wasn’t good, this always signaled a panic attack. You had these more frequently than before. Ever since he left. You started sweating, feeling chills, particularly in your arms and like you'd die from asphyxiation, the more you failed to inhale properly. Don't think—breathe—don't think you can't breathe—don't—

Two strong arms cupped your face and turned it upwards.

‘’Shh..hey..hey..darling, I’m right here.’’ The idol of the man you used to love gently whispered as you looked in the dead eyes in front of you. The voice honeyed and soft as the words he purred soothed you and you closed your eyes.

‘’Come here.’’ He said and brought your body close to his, embracing your trembling limbs as you exhaled—you could at least breathe through your nose again, an unfamiliar cologne in your face.

‘’Good.’’ He said as he took a deep breath.

His arms felt good.

‘’Now let’s continue.’’

-

A finger was brought up against your entrance as the intruder’s body hovered above you. You were moved (thrown) to the bed, begging in silent whispers for him to leave, but to no avail. He was kissing you with his tongue—leaving a saliva string each time you opened your mouth to protest, beg, promise to do anything except this but he’d had enough, he loved a good Shakespearean act, but pretending to be him to calm you down just so he could fuck you had wasted a lot of his time. The play needed a climax.

He caressed your core through your panties, your dress was lifted up as he slid them to the side, trailing two fingers against the folds. You had been fighting for your body not to betray you, fighting for your eyes to not involuntarily close each time his disgusting mouth kissed you. Whenever you closed them, you thought of him, the mouth felt all too familiar and you couldn't help it. Fluids smudged the fabric and fell down his fingers as he smirked.

‘’Such a good girl, no need for me to help a lot here I see.’’ His wicked grin caused you to let out a scream, maybe if you cried for help someone would listen, someone could save—

A slap took the breath out of your lungs, vicious and hard as your cheek burned from the pain.

‘’Be quiet, pretty, I don’t have all day.’’ He said toying your cunt and pushing his fingers inside you as you tried your best not to moan.

‘’Please! ugh—Stop!’’ You wailed but there was no remorse (or halt) in his movements—squelching sounds from the contact almost covered up the noise you made.

‘’So..so filthy and wet, fuck, what would your boyfriend say seeing you soaking someone else’s hand, huh? Disgusting..’’ He spoke with disdain as you cried and tried to not feel the guilty pleasure that took over your core.

‘’I think we’re good now, don’t you?’’ He said as he got off you, your eyes trying to look around for exits while trying to have him within your peripherals.

You could escape, you could leave, right?

The moment your body dared to stand up while he was taking off his kimono, you were thrown back to bed, head crashing against the steel of the bed frame—the pain was accute and you winced, your eyesight left for a second.

Yet, he continued.

‘’Don’t be that dumb, please.’’ He sighed as his cock was brought out, stiff and long, sitting upright on his abdomen. A revolting sight but his body reminiscent of Suguru’s made your heart flutter.

The paranoia of the predicament messed you up, it felt like a torture, a dichotomy between love and hate, you wanted to spit on him, kick him and escape, hell, you wanted to slash his throat but each time your gaze was brought to his sinister stitches, the reminiscent features made you ache, sob and long for the all too familiar face.

‘’Get off m–me, please.’’ You begged and begged as he parted your legs and brushed his slit against your cunt, tapping it on the tiny nub when a moan escaped your lips—embarrassed, you brought your hands to your mouth.

‘’Stop!’’ You pleaded, the feeling there not aligning with the disgust in your mind but he continued.

‘’I love it when you beg, you look prettier.’’ He softly whispered as his cockhead thrusted swiftly in your cunt, hard enough to make your body hurt in more parts. You hadn't been fucked in a while, it wasn't worth it after him.

The sensation was overwhelming—his weight fell on you, cock stayed within your walls for a couple of seconds before he grabbed your hands to get them off your mouth. Your head was banging against the frame, as whichever sobs fell from your lips were pitifully covered by your hands.

‘’Now, you don’t wanna be silent, do ya? This is the best part!’’ His eyes gleamed as his cock slid in and out of you fast and he groaned.

‘’Fuck, I can see why he loved you so much, taking me as if we're meant to be...’’ He hummed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the stinging pain, not in your core anymore but your chest.

‘’I want to hear you, come on girl, moan for me..agh—I know you want it.’’ His ruts became harder and sloppier, as you let out a loud moan—teardrops spilled from your eyelids onto the sheets as he tilted his hips into you, it was too much.

‘’P-please! Please!’’ You begged, still hoping for an end and he continued, a finger found your swollen clit and rubbed around it in circular motions, you jerked but his pace never faltered, fuck, it wasn't right, your cunt squeezed him in, clenching tightly around him.

‘’Shit, little slut’s enjoying herself?’’ He hissed and you cried.

‘’S—Suguru.. s—stop, please agh- I - love you.’’ You called out your favorite name and he laughed. There was no other way to save yourself.

‘’Stop calling for your dead man stupid, he’s not coming back..’’ He sounded like he lectured you, thrusting upwards and groping your chest as you withered under him, what felt like an orgasm slowly threatening to exit your tormented body. Your head hurt and your throat felt sore as you now only used broken syllables for help.

‘’S-st— I–I-ugh–..’’ Your cunt spasmed.

‘’Come on this cock– shit, be a good slut for your boyfriend, sweetheart, can you do it for Suguru?’’ He groaned, feeling himself close—the sight of your hands trying to throw him off aroused him even more, such a cute little thing you were, he didn’t wonder now why he liked you so much.

‘’S-suguru!’’ was all you said as you came undone, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip till you tasted metal. He continued; his predatory eyes made him look disfigured, melted even, reminding you of ice cream dripping down a cone.

‘’So filthy doll, he'd– agh.. be so proud..’’ He grunted and you felt a palm grab your neck and choke you with a firm grip, so not to moan or cry anymore. He came—looking in your eyes filled with terror shooting his cum deep within your walls as he praised you further. The foreign sensation stirred your insides.

You felt nothing; except maybe his cock soften and palm removed from your throat, allowing air back in your lungs. He got up.

He grabbed a cigarette pack from a tailored pocket in his kimono and moved to the window while you were left in a puddle of bodily fluids, trembling and tasting what must've been blood down your face.

‘’W—why...why did you come?’’ You brokenly managed, as he turned around.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair, it wasn't—

‘’I felt like having a smoke.’’ Cool and collected. Like Suguru. His face despite the wickedness looked serene, eyes crinkled similarly to his. He offered a smile.

‘’Could I have my lighter now, please?’’

[waywardsalt]

im actually going to tear into totk’s dragon’s tears/ memories rn bc i remember feeling distinctly unsatisfied with them when i got all of them so im just going to write some general bullet points about them, about what i dislike or maybe what i do actually like about them, leaving out both master sword scenes and the mummydorf one because i’m here to talk about the stuff in the past not that

- off the bat (i play this game in english btw so all of this is based on the english text and translation i am aware some stuff is slightly different in other languages) im not really a fan of how the descriptions of all of the tears is just a literal description of what happens?? i think my issue with it is that some of the text is a little bit too in depth, as in it just tells you literally everything about the scene. this might be nitpick-y but i personally dont like it

- what’s up with zelda saying ‘but that must mean...!’ at the end of the scene. is it suggesting that she’s made the realization that rauru and sonia are the first king and queen of hyrule? because they literally tell her that like ten seconds before. i guess it’s suggesting she’s realizing she’s in the past but... idk the texts says ‘she’s left startled by a suspicion that she’s heard those names before’ yeah theyre the first king and queen of hyrule?? they tell her that. they tell her their names and that they are the first leaders of hyrule is she just now connecting the dots that she’s in the past? that’s what the next cutscene implies. but all of the surrounding dialogue and the description don’t suggest that that’s what she’s realizing i feel like this was kind of muddled in the translation

- why did sonia elbow rauru he was just standing weird he didnt say anything this isnt a nitpick im just confused. is it because he’s not being very empathetic towards what zelda’s going through? she elbows him and then she goes and talks to zelda why even elbow rauru. ordinarily you elbow someone like that if you mean for them to go do something why elbow someone if you’re going to do the thing you want anyways

- why doesnt zelda offer to help with the purah pad or anything like that. what happened to her sheikah tech fascination from botw. not even as someone actually familiar with the technology who could give mineru some points as to how it works

- what are sonia and zelda doing behind rauru when he shoots that insane fucking beam at the mulduga swarm they’re clearly doing something with their stones but like... are they amplifying rauru’s power somehow?? what do time powers have to do with the beam of light i dont- what were they doing please the text description only mentions him using his powers so are sonia and zelda just... supporting his powers? idk man

- dragon tear #5 is a whole can of worms with its worse-than-oot reenactment of that one scene from oot. why the focus on sonia and her tear btw. i mean yeah she dies to motivate rauru and zelda but like. why not aim for the new girl who probably doesn’t know how to use it as much and is probably more likely to be separate from the king who can shot insane lasers. im really not a fan of this scene for how strongly the game sides with rauru and zelda being passive and judgemental but ganondorf is literally the best part of it there’s a lot of character in just how he picks up his sword and stands up to leave

- putting memories 6 and 7 together just because of how there was just. no fucking care put into the idea of zelda learning to use her time powers. memory 6 zelda talks about wanting to use her time powers and sonia gives her tips on how she could use it and visualize the use of it and then in memory 7 she can just use it perfectly with great control and timing. why even bother talking about her nothing yet understanding how to use it when the very next scene she just uses it like it’s nothing. how much time has passed we get nothing to show us zelda trying to practice this power just. nope. she’s good she can use it perfectly. also more awkward dialogue sonia saying ‘what a picture zelda paints of him’ as she is. looking directly at zelda. change the line to like, ‘what a picture you paint of him’ she is literally looking right at zelda so why would she say it like that

- generally i feel like memory six should have been before 4 and 5 (4 being where she uses some power to... support??? rauru and it being before memory 5 so that there isnt this weird break in between the memories concerning ganondorf.) memory 6 does not have anything to do with memory 4 or 5 so just put it earlier so there isnt a weird shift in focus between the two big ganondorf scenes

- good god they introduce the idea of sonia and zelda being aware of ganondorf using a fake zelda but theres literally nothing about it having been a problem or them having experience or like. anything. they just TELL you that they know and suggest that it’s been like. a thing for a bit??? also obligatory ganondorf’s face model rigging is fucked comment he’s still the best part

- the pacing of these memories is just weird in general, memories 7 and 8 being separate but the same scene is strange when other memories are long as fuck but cover one event each, plus theres clearly barely any passage of time between memories 7 and 8 it almost feels like they were split up to fill space or just because otherwise it’d be... too long? man idk

- ‘queen sonia needs you!’ girl she is DEAD good fucking luck doing anything to help her

- ganondorf’s horse and its armor both look sick as fuck i really wish you got to see more of it outside the memory it appears in

- everything about the original sages honestly sucks. they aren’t characters they’re just walking macguffins. they have no names and are not relevant or mentioned or make any appearance until they are needed by the story. why does the zora sage talk about getting word about the attacked gerudo village in this scene when like. they’ve all met up and have clearly. been together for a bit. when she gives them the news it’s clearly the first they’ve heard of it... but... why would she wait until this moments to give this info unless for the benefit of the player watching the scene. why does the ZORA sage have this news and not... the gerudo sage?? what’s with the masks. they’re all made of zonaite or whatever sure theyre gifts from rauru but like. i hate that it kind of denotes them being subservient and lower than him and the zonai. honestly i really hate this scene in general mostly because of the uncomfortable showing of how rauru absolutely holds power over them and despite them being leaders as well they are expected to be wholly blindly loyal to him. rauru only gives them these stones when he needs their aid and they swear loyalty too him soon after but you also see that sonia and mineru have stones, too, so they’re clearly withholding these things despite it being kind of reasonable for him to give each race their own secret stone as further proof of their pact? there is so much shit to be said about the imperialistic themes or whatever in this fucking story and i really hate it

- i do kinda like how the next scene shows you that the one rock in the corner of that first hidden room in the forgotten temple is sonia’s grave

- zelda’s phrasing and description of how she and link found ganondorf is weird to me ‘he’s still alive’ ‘he lives on’ girl that was a mummy. he was not moving until you got there. he’s undead at best as far as you know. this is def a nitpick but eh. also the reliance on link is a... bit odd when zelda does not actually know that link is safe until she gets the master sword. its fine but still. also her shell-shocked expression after rauru talks about her being in the past for a reason is a bit... it doesn’t fit her emotion it’s kind of similar to the expression she had when sonia was killed

- the memory about the imprisoning war starts with practically the whole story up until now being repeated back to you by mineru with a decent amount of bias on mineru’s part and while it’s fine because of some of the extra stuff you learn but it does a lot more telling rather than showing when it comes to the actual imprisoning war and... idk the whole thing about their ‘fight’ kind of falls flat when you don’t actually see any fighting you just see that the sages have gotten their asses beat. i think it would have been a little interesting if in the god-awful repetitive sage-awakening scenes they had actually showed you the og sages fighting ganondorf instead of just. slow-mo freeze-frames for whatever. once again ganondorf if the best part of the scene

- the rest of the memories are fine idc

i get the feeling that the japanese-to-english translation was either all-around rough or somehow rushed, because some of the phrases in the game as well as some of the dialogue is really awkward and... could have been better. i don’t know how it works but it feels like a lot of it was very literal, direct translation and no one at noa thought that it ought to be tweaked just a little bit

these memories also do a fuck-ton of telling rather than showing and it really is like they don’t really trust you to connect the dots, and some of it does come off like they either didn’t want to make more memories or ran out of time or something. i felt like the memory of ganondorf just summoning his monsters and riding on his cool horse could have been a bit longer to actually show us the forces of hyrule fighting him and having a hard time with it

a lot of the character animations doesn’t have a whole lot of personality to them, ganondorf is the character who had the most distinct and interesting movements. rauru and sonia had their... singular movement (rauru putting a hand to his chin and sonia taking zelda’s hands) and zelda was kind of just... standing around and reacting to stuff, and neither mineru nor any of the other sages had any really interesting animations asides from mineru’s coughing fit in memory 16 (plus her reclining chair that was a nice touch). very few of their movements really express anything about the characters besides some really baseline values or traits.

the ordering of some memories is kind of odd, the excessive flashbacks in memory 17 are a bit much, the telling rather than showing, the sometimes awkward dialogue, a lot of the scenes are characters just... talking at each other, you don’t actually see very much of hyrule in the past or any characters beyond the main four, and it really did nothing to actually get me to care about these characters at all.

tldr i dont like totk’s dragon tears

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich- Asides- Ivan Sollertinsky

So, in addition to my weekly posting for Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich, I decided I want to do a series of related "asides" posts. These will be posted irregularly (as opposed to weekly) and cover aspects related to Shostakovich that don't fit neatly into one post focusing on one part of the chronological timeline. In this case, I want to talk about Ivan Ivanovich Sollertinsky, specifically his role in Shostakovich's life and music. Sources I'll be citing include Elizabeth Wilson's Shostakovich: A Life Remembered, Shostakovich's own letters to Sollertinsky and Isaak Glikman, Dmitri and Lyudmila Sollertinsky's Pages from the Life of Dmitri Shostakovich, Pamyati I.I. Sollertinskogo (Memories of I.I. Sollertinsky), and I.I. Sollertinsky: Zhizn' i naslediye (Life and Legacy), the latter two both by Lyudmila Mikheeva. Photo citations include the DSCH Publishers website and the DSCH Journal photo archive.

(Dmitri Shostakovich and Ivan Sollertinsky, Novosibirsk, 1942.)

Ivan Ivanovich Sollertinsky was born in Vitebsk, present-day Belarus, on December 3, 1902. He was a polymath, excelling in humanities fields, including linguistics, philosophy, musicology, history, and literature- particularly that of Cervantes. He specialized in Romano-Germanic philology, and spoke a wide range of languages; sources I've read vary from claiming he spoke anywhere from 25 to 30. (He specialized in Romance languages, but I can also confirm from sources that he studied Hungarian, Japanese, Greek, Sanskrit, and German. I've heard it said that he kept a diary in ancient Portuguese so nobody could read it, but I haven't seen this verified.) He had a ferocious wit, which he used to uplift friends and skewer enemies (there's a hilarious anecdote where he once saddled a critic opposed to Shostakovich with the nickname "Carbohydrates" for life), and worked as a professor, orator, and artistic director of the Leningrad Philharmonic. And yet, this impossibly bright star would burn out all too soon at the age of 41 due to a terminal heart condition, leaving his closest friend devastated- and inspired.

Dmitri Shostakovich first met Ivan Sollertinsky in 1921, when they were both students at the Petrograd Conservatory. While Shostakovich claimed he was at first too intimidated to talk to Sollertinsky the first time he saw him, when they met again in 1926, Shostakovich was waiting outside a classroom to take an exam on Marxism-Leninism. When Sollertinsky walked out of the classroom, Shostakovich "plucked up courage and asked him":

"Excuse me, was the exam very difficult?"

"No, not at all," [Sollertinsky] replied.

"What did they ask you?"

"Oh, the easiest things: the growth of materialism in Ancient Greece; Sophocles' poetry as an expression of materialist tendencies; English seventeenth-century philosophers and something else besides!"

Shostakovich then goes on to state he was "filled with horror at his reply."

(...Yes, these are real people we are talking about. According to Shostakovich, this actually happened. And I love it.)

Later, in 1927, they met at a gathering hosted by the conductor Nikolai Malko, where they hit it off immediately. Malko recalls that they "became fast friends, and one could not seem to do without the other." He further characterizes their friendship:

When Shostakovich and Sollertinsky were together, they were always fooling. Jokes ran riot and each tried to outdo the other in making witty remarks. It was a veritable competition. Each had a sharply developed sense of humour; both were bright and observant; they knew a great deal; and their tongues were itching to say something funny or sarcastic, no matter whom it might concern. They were each quite indiscriminate when it came to being humorous, and if they were too young to be bitter they could still come mercilessly close to being malicious.

(Shostakovich and Sollertinsky, 1920s.)

Sollertinsky and Shostakovich appeared to be perfect complements of each other- one brash, extroverted, and confident, and the other shy, withdrawn, and insecure, but each sharing a sarcastic sense of humour and love for the arts that would carry throughout their friendship. In Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky, we see him confide in him time and again, in everything from drama with women to fears in the midst of the worsening political atmosphere. When worrying about the reception of his ballet "The Limpid Stream," Shostakovich writes in a letter from October 31, 1935:

I strongly believe that in this case, you won't leave me in an extremely difficult moment of my life, and that the only person whose friendship I cherish, the apple of my eye, is you. So, write to me, for god's sake.

And, in a moment of frustration from August 2, 1930 Shostakovich writes:

"You have a rich personal life. And mine, generally, is shit."

(Famous composers, am I right? They're just like us.)

In addition to a friendship that would last until Sollertinsky's untimely death, he and Shostakovich would influence each other greatly in the artistic spheres as well. Sollertinsky dedicated himself primarily to musicology after meeting Shostakovich (his first review of an opera, Krenek's Johnny, appeared in 1928, after they had become friends), and in turn, Sollertinsky introduced Shostakovich to one of his greatest musical inspirations- the works of Gustav Mahler. Much is to be said about Mahler's influence on Shostakovich's music, to the point where it deserves its own post, but it goes without saying that without Sollertinsky, Shostakovich's entire body of work would have turned out much differently. Starting with the Fourth Symphony (1936), Shostakovich's symphonic works began to take on a heavily Mahlerian angle (in addition to many vocal works), becoming a permanent fixture in his distinct musical style.

(Colorized image of Shostakovich, his wife Nina Vasiliyevna, and Sollertinsky, 1932. One of my absolute favourite photographs.)

Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky, from the 20s to early 30s, are characterized by puns and literary references, snide remarks, nervous confessions, and vivid descriptions of the locations he traveled to during his early career. However, as the 1930s progressed and censorship in the arts became more restrictive, signs of worry begin to take shape in the letters. This would all culminate in January 1936, with the denunciation of Shostakovich's opera Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District in Pravda. I'll go further into detail about the opera and its denunciation in a later post, but for now, I want to focus on its impact on Shostakovich and Sollertinsky's friendship.

As one of the first world-famous composers whose career began in the then-relatively young Soviet Union, targeting Shostakovich proved to be a calculated move. Due to his prominence and the acclaim he had previously received, both in the USSR and abroad, the portrayal of Shostakovich as a "formalist" meant someone had to take the blame for his supposed "corruption" towards western-inspired music and the avant-garde. The blame fell upon Sollertinsky, who was lambasted in the papers as the "troubadour of formalism." To make matters worse, Sollertinsky had long showed a fascination with western European composers, such as the Second Viennese School, and had previously praised Lady Macbeth in a review as the "future of Soviet art." An article in Pravda from February 14, 1936, about less than a month after the denunciation, stated:

“Shostakovich should in his creation entirely free himself from the disastrous influence of the ideologists of the ‘Leftist Ugliness’ type of Sollertinsky and take the road of truthful Soviet art, to advance in a new direction, leading to the sunny kingdom of Soviet art.”

Critics who had initially praised Lady Macbeth had begun to retract their positive reviews in favour of negative ones, and a vote was cast on a resolution on whether or not to condemn the opera.  According to Isaak Glikman, their mutual friend, Shostakovich spoke with Sollertinsky, who was conflicted on what to do, beforehand. Although Sollertinsky didn’t want to condemn his friend, he supposedly told Glikman that Shostakovich had given him permission to “vote for any resolution whatsoever, in case of dire necessity.” When denouncing the opera (supposedly with Shostakovich's permission), Sollertinsky had commented that in order to develop a “true connection” to the Soviet public, Shostakovich would have to develop a “true heroic pathos, and that Shostakovich would ultimately succeed “in the genre of Soviet musical tragedy and the Soviet heroic symphony.” After Shostakovich’s second denunciation in Pravda of his ballet, “The Limpid Stream,” and the withdrawal of his Fourth Symphony- arguably the most Mahlerian of his middle period works- the Fifth Symphony, easily interpreted to follow these criteria, had indeed restored him to favour. Sollertinsky’s reputation, too, was saved.

(Aleksandr Gauk, Shostakovich, Sollertinsky, Nina Vasiliyevna, and an unidentified person, 1930s.)

In 1938, Sollertinsky contracted diphtheria. Ever tireless, he continued to dictate opera reviews and even learned Hungarian while hospitalized, although he became paralyzed in the limbs and jaw. Shostakovich wrote to him often with touching concern:

Dear friend, It's terribly sad that you are spending your much needed and precious vacation still sick. In any case, when you get better, you need to get plenty of rest.

By the time the letters from this period break off, it's because Shostakovich was able to visit Sollertinsky in the hospital, which he did whenever he was able.

While Sollertinsky was able to recover, their friendship would face yet another test in 1941, due to the German invasion of the Soviet Union during WWII. Sollertinsky evacuated with the Leningrad Philharmonic to Novosibirsk, while Shostakovich chose to stay in Leningrad. However, as the city fell under siege, due to the safety of his family, Shostakovich fled with Nina Vasiliyevna and their two children to Kubiyshev (now Samara) that October, having spent about a month in Leningrad during what would be one of the deadliest sieges of the 20th century. It was in Kubiyshev that Shostakovich would finish his famous Seventh Symphony (which, again, will receive its own post), before eventually moving permanently to Moscow (although he still taught for a time at the Leningrad Conservatory).

During this period of evacuation, Shostakovich's letters to Sollertinsky are heartbreaking. We not only see him pining for his friend, but worrying for his safety and that of his family, including his mother and sister, who were still in Leningrad at the time. Still, he reminisces of their time together before the war, with the hope that he and Sollertinsky would be back home soon. In a letter from 12th February, 1942:

Dear friend, I painfully miss you, and believe that soon, we will be home, and will visit each other and chat about this and that over a bottle of good Kakhetian no. 8 [a Georgian wine]. Take care of yourself and your health. Remember: You have children for which you are responsible, and friends, and among them is D. Shostakovich.

In 1943, Sollertinsky arrived in Moscow, where Shostakovich was living at the time, to give a speech on the anniversary of Tchaikovsky’s death. At long last, they finally were able to see each other, and anticipated that soon enough, their long period of separation, made bearable only by letters and phone calls, would come to an end: Sollertinsky, living in Novosibirsk, was planning to return to Moscow in February of 1944 to teach a course on music history at the conservatory. When he and Shostakovich said their goodbyes at the train station, neither of them knew it would be the last time they saw one another.

Sollertinsky's heart condition, coupled with his tendency to overwork, poor living conditions, heavy drinking, and added stress, often left him fatigued. On the night of February 10th, 1944, due to a sudden bout of exhaustion, he stayed the night with conductor Andrei Porfiriyevich Novikov, where he died unexpectedly in his sleep. His last public appearance had been the speeches he gave on February 5th and 6th of that year- the opening comments for the Novosibirsk premiere of Shostakovich’s 8th Symphony.  A remarkable amount of telegrams and letters from Shostakovich to Sollertinsky survive and have been published in Russian. Some seem hardly significant; others carry great historical importance. Sollertinsky took many of them with him from Leningrad during evacuation; those letters were considered among his most prized possession. His son, Dmitri Ivanovich Sollertinsky, was named after Shostakovich- breaking a long tradition in his family in which the first son was always named "Ivan."

As for Shostakovich, we have letters to multiple correspondents detailing just how distraught he was for months after receiving news via telegram of Sollertinsky’s death. To Sollertinsky’s widow, Olga Pantaleimonovna Sollertinskaya, he wrote:

“It will be unbelievably hard for me to live without him. [...] In the last few years I rarely saw him or spoke with him. But I was always cheered by the knowledge that Ivan Ivanovich, with his remarkable mind, clear vision, and inexhaustible energy, was alive somewhere. [...] Ivan lvanovich and I talked a great deal about everything. We talked about that inevitable thing waiting for us at the end of our lives- about death. Both of us feared and dreaded it. We loved life, but knew that sooner or later we would have to leave it. Ivan lvanovich has gone from us terribly young. Death has wrenched him from life. He is dead, I am still here. When we spoke of death we always remembered the people near and dear to us. We thought anxiously about our children, wives, and parents, and always solemnly promised each other that in the event of one of us dying, the other would use every possible means to help the bereaved family. ”

Shostakovich stuck to his word, making arrangements for Sollertinsky's surviving family to return to Leningrad after it had been liberated, going through the painstaking process of acquiring the necessary documentation and allowing them to stay at his home in Moscow in the meantime.

 In 1969, he would write to Glikman:

“On 10 February, I remembered Ivan Ivanovich. It is incredible to think that twenty-five years have passed since he died.” 

Furthermore, Shostakovich recalled:

Ivan Ivanovich loved different dates. So he planned to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of our acquaintance in the winter of 1941. This celebration did not take place, since the war had ruined us. When in our last meetings, we planned the 25th anniversary of our friendship for 1947. But in 1947, I will only remember that twenty-five years ago life sent me a wonderful friend, and that in 1944 death took him away from me.

And yet, there was still one more tribute left to make. Shostakovich had already dedicated a movement of a work to Sollertinsky- a setting of Pasternak's translation of Shakespeare Sonnet no. 66 in Six Romances on Verses by English Poets- but after Sollertinsky's death, he completed his Piano Trio no. 2 in August of 1944, a work that had taken months to finish. While he had started the work before Sollertinsky's death and mentions it in a letter to Glikman as early as December 1943, it would since bear a dedication to Sollertinsky's memory.

The second movement of the Trio is a dizzying, electrifying Allegro con Brio- and probably my favourite work of classical music, ever. Sollertinsky's sister, Ekaterina Ivanovna, was said to have considered it a "musical portrait" of her illustrious brother in life, with its fast-paced, jubilant air. The call-and-response between the strings and piano seem, to me, to reflect one of Shostakovich and Sollertinsky's early Leningrad dialogues- the image of two friends out of breath with laughter, each talking over each other as they deliver witty comebacks and jokes that only they understand. For the few minutes that this movement lasts, it is as if Shostakovich and Sollertinsky are revived, if not for just a moment, the unbreakable bond that defied decades of hardship now immortalized in the classical canon, forever carefree and happy in each other's company.

And then comes the pause.

It is this silence between the Allegro con Brio and Adagio that is the loudest, most powerful moment of this piece as eight solemn chords snap us into reality, like the sudden revelation of Sollertinsky's death- as Shostakovich said, "he is dead; I am still here." These eight chords form the base of a passacaglia, the piano cycling through them and nearly devoid of dynamics as the cello and violin sing a lugubrious dirge. The piano- Shostakovich's instrument- seems to mirror the stasis of grief, the inability to move on when paralyzed by loss.

The final movement of the Trio, the Allegretto, seems to speak to a wider form of grief. By 1943, the Soviet Union was receiving news of the Holocaust, and the Allegretto of Shostakovich's Trio no. 2 is among the first instances of Klezmer-inspired themes in Shostakovich's work (not counting the opera Rothschild's Violin, a work by his student Veniamin Fleischman that he finished after Fleischman's death in the war). The idea that the fourth movement is a commentary on the Holocaust is the most popular interpretation for Shostakovich's use of themes inspired by Jewish folk music, but other interpretations include a tribute to Fleischman (who was Jewish), or a nod to Sollertinsky's birthplace of Vitebsk, which had a substantial Jewish population until the Vitebsk Ghetto Massacre in 1941 by the Nazis. (While I haven't read anything confirming that Sollertinsky was ethnically Jewish, the painter Marc Chagall and pianist Maria Yudina, both carrying associations with Vitebsk, were.) Whether the grief expressed here was personal or referencing the larger global situation, the quotation of the fourth movement's ostinato followed by the final E major chords suggest a peaceful resolution after a long movement of aggressive tumult and grotesque rage.

Shostakovich would continue to grieve and remember Sollertinsky, but the ending of this piece- composed over the course of about nine months- perhaps implied closure and healing. In the following years, the war would end, Shostakovich would form new connections (such as a lasting friendship with the composer Mieczyslaw Weinberg), and, as he had done through tragedy before, would continue to write music. Sollertinsky was gone, but left a mark on Shostakovich's life and work, his memory carried in every musical joke and Mahlerian quotation that found its way onto the page.

(Shostakovich at Sollertinsky's grave, 1961, Novosibirsk.)

(By the way, check the tags. ;) )

[m1ckeyb3rry]

No because Karasu just has it all no one compares to him like Aoyama stressing for good reason LMAOO

Fr no in between….Mira once again serving the community with realistic dynamic representations….

LMAOOO EXACTLY that was my exact vision for Otoya!! I think it works esp well because we know he’s such a good with the flow dude…so he’d be like ok welp boxers are swag

FR im so excited for Karasu content because I’d imagine we’d get at least like two more chapters worth of Karasu panels soooo (please let him appear more in the main series too omg) another visual added to the manifestation circle

He’s so gorgeous in the epinagi series!!! I think it’s also because the artist has more time to like thoughtfully draw everything out so there’s not as many low quality npc type panels or moments LOL

LMAO good luck coming up with the au theme!! In Mira we trust part 15 but omg a title already…is this top secret….if not…..I’d love to hear it….

SHSHSH stop this has me kicking my feet we’re like y/n and tullia in the Miraverse but on tumblr LMAOOO but SAME sometimes crack is refreshing like I’ll never saw no to a goofy moment where no one’s dying but instead they’re just involved in crazy stupid shenanigans

HSJSHSJS you’re about to collect the entire bllk cast with that thinking /j it’s ok we steer you away and back to the tabietiaken side character agenda….but yeah something about ness just doesn’t do it for me LOL but FRR I remember following along with the chameleon/Charizard rebellious phase I ate up that drama

LMFAOOOOOO BRO BROCK I can’t that’s so funny….im ngl I always lowk made fun of Brock because he’d always go for all the nurse joys and office jennys and any adult female…maybe this was the first sign to your Otoya conversion HAHA ok but you are onto something….bro knows first aid and can cook well it fr is Otoya x Barou love child……kinda a player but I’d like to think he wouldn’t cheat and also husband material without all the yelling LMAOOO

Im ngl whenever I think of Brock I think of his croagunk coming to reign him in in the Sinnoh season and also his iconic line “I’ll use this frying pan as a drying pan” when they were running in the rain….so many good memories….

Ok responding to the other response here too so I don’t keep piling on asks

TULLIA >>>>> I’ll never get over her death in pi though…I was so invested I thought she’d end up happy with toge but no??? Anyways….but I see what you mean!! I think like a lot of the insert fics I’ve seen where the mc actually enters bllk it ends up just kinda following the plot of bllk but with the addition of the mc into the main character group and that setting makes it a bit hard to add canon divergent scenes that show character growth etc…..honestly the smau was perfect because we get to see the character interactions in the realm of “girls in bllk” while not having to worry about the logistical details of plot and whatnot LOL

LMAOO Otoya and Shidou a menace to everyone in bllk im crying Karasu getting constantly targeted and attacked was hilarious and it was honestly how I envisioned their characters to be like too sooooo (the head nod emojis crack me up in general they’re so goofy but SHIDOU using them just amplified the effect by like ten times)

I snorted at that part like bro really tweeted onto social media “please take me in as your child pls I need parents get married and hurry up”

THE GRAMMAR GUARDIAN + THE ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATION OF TBE WORDS BEING A POINT OF TEASING ISAGI WAS GOLD like I read that part and really thought “this is so big brained omg this is hilarious”

PLS DO!! These were so entertaining to read LOLLL

ALSO apparently there’s some live/talk show going on in the next day or so with some of the vas where they’re gonna release new info on s2….will keep you posted if I see anything…..

- Karasu anon

words cannot describe how perf karasu is 😔 truly i feel like i haven’t liked a character this much in AGESSSS (besides nagi) like bllk really reignited smth in me!! and YES for sure there’s def a time constraint thing but also idk if you compare otoya or barou in epinagi with karasu specifically it’s just like damn…not even trying to hide who the fav is 😭 although maybe i’m just biased because he’s MY fav

i have a few titles floating around so ofc it’s subject to change especially based on what i actually end up writing abt but atm my fav is “dragonfly dance” 🤔 haven’t picked an au yet but i’m getting a very sad feel based on what’s brewing in my mind ☝🏻 not angry sad the way hollyhock is but like regretful sad if that makes sense 😰 smth abt fighting an inevitable destiny but knowing deep down you can’t really change it…we will see though maybe it’ll end up being smth more lighthearted!!

i think brock would be so happy to have a girl be into him that the thought of cheating would NOT cross his mind he’s like peak malewife material 🤩 PLS the frying pan like is so good 😭 he’s so iconic tbh the first few seasons of pokémon looking back were SO funny on a level that i as a child could not comprehend

LMAOOO i fr pulled up w a spin move there her death in pi was so brutal honestly 😓 but yk me letting my readers be happy is a new development and a bllkverse exclusive normally i’m much meaner!! and i will say that in this version in my mind mc is actually in a different wing altogether during the first selection…she was on the same first selection team as other characters we know (maybe like hiori and aryu??) and she was def on team z but not THE team z ☝🏻 meanwhile tullia was in yet another wing (maybe with shidou) so definitely opportunities to branch away from the main plot!! but then mc and tullia do end up as 2 and 3 during second selection (replacing aryu and tokimitsu) because they’re professional players so they can score 100 goals much faster than the others which means we do circle back to being alongside the manga storyline 😔💔 i don’t even have an issue with following canon because idm messing with that — it’s more so that there isn’t necessarily a CONFLICT for the mc besides being a girl?? but she’s a way better player than most of the bllk guys so it’s not a huge issue which means she doesn’t really need to develop much as a character 😬 plus my vision for her in the NEL is literally that she stays benched for the most part because loki thinks she’ll inhibit charles’s growth too much….so honestly i’m afraid a fully fledged story might not be too entertaining (although it certainly would have its moments…karasu x mc partnership plus a deconstruction/subversion of the “i can fix him” trope with nagi plus the tullia and isagi drama going on in the background) 😵‍💫 BUT smaus are perfect!!

THE HEAD NOD EMOJIS ARE SOO FUNNY and shidou would be the one to use them unironically 😭 pls karasu getting bullied was so good LMAOAOAO when he was like “it’s just one thing after another with you today” to otoya i think that was his best line he was so done 😔💔

can’t even blame hiori for that one because his only other options for a mother and father duo in this au are tullia + isagi which would be too friendly for him, tullia + barou which is just scary (mostly because of barou), anri + ego which is even scarier because they’re BOTH crazy, and mc + nagi which would actually be a worse situation than the one he’s in…nagi is NOT cut out to be the father that stepped up 😭💔 in a world of nagiy/n shippers (aka tullia and chigiri) hiori stands alone as the sole tabiy/n shipper 😓 besides maybe otoya but tbh otoya just roots for whatever he finds the funniest at the moment

LMAOOO i think my fav parts of smaus is making random characters interact when they hardly ever do in canon…like grammar guardian isagi and womanizer otoya hardly have any scenes together in the manga but they are beefing HEAVILY over twitter!! NOT TO MENTION OTOYA AND SHIDOU GANGING UP TO BULLY KARASU AND RIN 😭 like those two genuinely do not even interact but yet they just came together so naturally in the smau and i think half of the humor is just those random unexpected relationships that end up occurring HAHAHA

ooh definitely do keep me posted!! i’m always ready for more s2 info…because it means we’re just that much closer to tabieitaken on screen + the returns of nagi and barou (and the other characters ig 😩 preparing myself for the influx of aiku and sae content that’s abt to FLOOD my dash i’m sure)

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Remus/Sirius Fluff Masterlist | Works With Less Than 5k Words [3/3]

find the masterlist directory here

last updated: 07/31/24 | links last checked: 07/31/24

*quandary by miastree [T, 4k]

There's also the small.. big… problem that Remus has, other than the furry one and the grades one and the worrying-about-the-future one and the money one, and that's his Sirius Problem. He's come to the conclusion that the fluttery feeling in his chest will never really go away.

*Quiet by merlywhirls [Not Rated, 2k]

Remus and Sirius enjoy a rare moment of peace in their dorm on Christmas the day after a full moon.

Self-Insert by Wereflamingo [T, 1k]

Remus and Sirius both write self-insert fics in the same fandom. One day Sirius asks to borrow Remus's OC for his new fic. What could he possibly be planning, and what is the mystery pairing he promised to introduce?

Shelter by ygrainette [M,3k]

The storm-clouds of the First War are gathering, and Sirius and Remus shelter each other.

Sirius Black and the Incident with the Babbling Bush by MonkeyZero [T, 2k]

While helping Remus with his chores, Sirius finds someone, or rather something to confide his feelings to. “But the point is, Remus is so gorgeous and sexy it drives me wild just being close to him. We’ll be doing something perfectly ordinary, like breaking into Filch’s office to embroider his awful overcoat with pink hearts, and I’ll just look over at Remus and think Oh Merlin I want to bang him.

Sirius Possibilities, aka The Logic of Sirius by Tpants [T, 3k]

Sirius buys a "cottage" for Remus and him. Obviously, there is a lot of work to do and Sirius has some high expectations.

Some New Memories by LadyAmina [M, 4k]

While Christmas shopping one Hogsmeade visit, Sirius decides that Remus needs to make some really good memories to balance out the bad ones.

Someone To Love by lumosinlove [T, 1k]

Sirius trips, Remus catches him, and maybe they won't have to spend Christmas alone this year.

*Sparks by ssstrychnine [T, 3k]

Remus is a librarian at a university library and Sirius is a student with a lot of fines.

*Stripping Solution by Ineffabilitea [E, 4k]

In which James pulls off a Christmas prank, Remus writes a note, Sirius reads it, and Peter indulges in schadenfreude. (Follows Snogging Nog)

Summer Skin by escribo [G, 1k]

First bike, first kiss, first making up.

*Tartan Tribulations by sqvalors [T, 1k]

In which Remus' clothes mysteriously disappear, McGonagall is surprisingly collected and Sirius is, as usual, insufferable.

Texts From Last Night by christabellamotte [M, 1k]

(Sirius): I woke up in your kitchen with my ID in my hand and my nails were painted electric blue. Dude…. never let me have firewhisky again. (James): The nail polish was Lily’s. You insisted it brought out the sparkle in your eyes. (Remus): For the record: it did not. (Sirius): It does too! (Or, a texting fic from your favourite very small gang based around some of TFLN's best offerings.)

the charm of your arms 101 by driedupwishes [T, 3k]

“Should’ve known,” Sirius continued, “that boring old goodie-goodie Remus would rear his head eventually. He always does…” Remus went still, tension suddenly back in his shoulders. Sirius lifted his head to grin at him, broad and pleased and completely unapologetic, because there was nothing more Remus hated than being cast as the kiss ass and Sirius Black fucking knew it. Remus didn’t even pause. He threw himself across the couch, slung his arm around Sirius’ neck, and hauled him up in one gangly limb tangled stumble. Sirius squawked, fingers curling in Remus’ jumper as he floundered to his feet, and for one fucking brilliant moment they were nose to nose, breaths mingling, Sirius’ eyes going warm and soft in the dying light of the fire and Remus forgot what it was he was trying to do. “Is this part of the lesson, teach,” Sirius whispered, waggling his eyebrows like the annoying git he was. Remus loved him all the same.

*The Day by DevBasaa [T, 2k]

Sometimes the worst day can turn out perfect in the end. Written for a "Promise Ring" challenge, set Marauders' Era, summer before 7th year.

*the doc was called Halloween babeyy by dduucckk [T, 1k]

a self indulgent halloween fic with pumpkin shenanigans, meet cutes, and texting. “They’re battle scars,” Remus repeated. “And you can’t call him just ‘pumpkin’ anymore, his official title is the PumpKing and he requires it to be used at all times.” Remus finished carving out the last scar, and picked up the sharpie to draw the outline of a crown near the top of the pumpkin. One he was satisfied, he picked up his knife and started cutting along the lines. “In that case,” James said, “Mine’s the PumPeasant and he looks like this because of a childhood disease.”

The Electric Fizzing Prick Pistols, or Whatever by whitmans_kiss [T, 3k]

Everyone is born with Words on their arm that connect them to their Soulmate. James finds his, Sirius had everything figured out back in First Year, Peter doesn’t talk to girls anyway, and Remus thinks he’d very much just like to put his earmuffs back on and disappear.

The Firewhiskey Interrogation by TheLonelyPoet [Not Rated, 3k]

It's James' birthday so his friends plan a night full of drinking and laughter in the Shrieking Shack as a present. But under the influence of firewhiskey some quite unexpected things happen…

The Game of Gay Canines by orphan_account [T, 1k]

Remus snaps and insists that he is not "boring" or a "chicken", thank you very much. Sirius dares him to a game of gay chicken to prove it.

The Great Golden Gormless Worm of Flobber by sheafrotherdon [M, 3k]

A lovesick Sirius is a desperate thing, and Remus Lupin insists on being oblivious.

The Incident by lindsaylaurie [T, 2k]

Remus rejects Sirius’ advances because he’s afraid of things changing between them.

The Night Before by jlpierre [M, 3k]

Sirius Black has lost his wand, and using limited memories of the night before, he has to retrace it before Remus loses his cool.

*The One Where They Got Married by Sonamae [T, 2k]

Walkies, Tea Time, and Showers, Oh my.

The Pitch by KinugoshiDofu [T, 1k]

Remus is not into Quidditch at all, but when you have a secret boyfriend that plays, there’s not much to do but watch and pray to Merlin you won’t have to see him crash. And when he does, there’s nothing left to do but kiss the booboos.

The Talk by WolfstarPups90 [M, 1k, Harry/Draco]

Sirius and Remus think it's time they give Harry "The Talk" when they find he's been sneaking out at night to see someone special.

The Wardrobe by KinugoshiDofu [M, 1k]

“I can’t believe that of all the places we could be hiding, we’re actually hiding in a closet,” Sirius huffed, “the irony.” Except Remus is pretty sure that it is not a closet, but in fact a wardrobe and there is nothing ironic about this situation - they will not be laughing joyfully about it later, later they will be dead.

The Witching Hour by muse_in_absentia [T, 3k]

Sometimes birthday wishes can come true.

things that should be unappealing by nightswatch [T, 3k]

In which kisses are shared even though Hogwarts is plagued by the yearly flu epidemic.

Thunder by showmeyourtardis [T, 1k]

Sleeping in Gryffindor Tower is not always easy. Especially when the sky insists on having a war with itself, and the heating charms are refusing to work. It's hard to sleep alone.

*Unified Theory by montparnasse [G, 3k]

New Year's, 1982. A house, a bed, a room at the top of the stairs. A lever, and a place to stand. (podfic available)

We Were by Charlie9646 [G, 1k]

Remus imagined tons of directions that his life might have gone in, but being a parent wasn’t one of them. But, with the Potters gone him and Sirius have to do just that. The life Harry should have had.

Welcome to the Family by Jencala [M, 2k, Harry/Draco]

Remus turned to face his husband. “Your godson is engaged to a Malfoy. He’s used to the finer things in life and I, for one, would like to make sure this dinner is not only pleasant, but that he knows we are not peasants.” Sirius barked a laugh. “So the truth is, you want to show off for the little bugger!”

Winter and Happier by orphan_account [T, 2k]

Spending a weekend house-sitting for James' parents, the two couples have some plans. But when Remus is given a slight set-back, Sirius is determined to make his boyfriend feel valid, and very loved.

*Worth the Itch by NachoDiablo [T, 2k]

Sirius is smitten with the adorable curly-haired boy who stops by their booth at the farmer's market every week.

*denotes personal favorites

[privateolives]

I saw people talk about their Zero Time Dilemma fixes around the tag so I thought I'd dump in my convo on the topic too (With shout-out to @oriko-magicas's galaxy brain read on Akane and Junpei)

Absolute wall of text below.

Me: I'm having trouble finding it, but there was a post talking about Akane and Junpei in Zero Time Dilemma that I really liked the interpretation of It's essentially talking about how Akane don't want anything but the perfect future with Junpei. She went through so much and spend so long aiming for fhe one needle hole solution to live that she can't settle for anything but her ideal fantasy ending anymore. Meanwhile Junpei still experiences time the way it normally goes and he was burned by 999. He knows things will never be the same cause THEY'RE not the same, but he's willing to work with that to stay with her And I think it's a super thematic read, especially when you consider their VLR attitudes

Friend: Yeah, you know, that actually makes a lot of sense to me

Me: https://www.tumblr.com/privateolives/730880206913552384?source=share

Okay I’m thinking of ztd again, and it’s how Akane only accepts a future with Junpei if it can be fairytale perfect. She wants so desperately to be that kid who died in the incinerator again, the one… There it is

Friend: That would certainly explain the way she frequently reacts to this new cynical, jaded Junpei

Me: I don't think that's her exact motivation for that ending but the sentiment is perf Yeah

Friend: It makes much more sense to me. Every time she shakes her head and says "what happened to you" it's because she's hopeful to see that same boy she used to know

Me: I think Junpei's attitude would make a lot more sense if the assholery was played up when Akane acts like he should still be the same like he was before 999. Or like the world could be how they saw it before then. It'd underline the dynamic better of "I need you to be the person I cried out to back then" and he's like "I love you but you literally made that impossible" … paired up with Carlos like "I am begging you to just talk" Carlos: you are both cute and valid but I NEED you to communicate

Friend: I think maybe part of it is that Junpei's jaded asshole net is thrown a bit wide. 'cause on one hand it is like he's upset at Akane for 999 and part of it is like he's upset that she acts like he should be the same after that, but then there's also all the shit that he went through since then and it feels like he blames her for that as well He's been through a lot in what has somehow just been one year and it feels like, perhaps fitting for someone who has also become an alcoholic, he's looking to put the blame for it all on someone

Me: Yeah Also I've been thinking, and I think there's an easy fix to the stupid "complex motives" crap. And a lot of Delta honestly

Friend: hell yeah let me hear it

Me: The whole frame he jeeps setting up with the snail. It's all about a series of small butterfly effects that cause an extremely specific outcome. That's what he wants to do too, same as the other zeroes, but he has one particular handicap: he can't shift or read timelines. He won't just know how to make the bricks fall to get the exact outcome he wants. But if he could gather enough shifters, he could read their hopping around through their minds. Because resonance would make the memories clearer. So he sets up the game that can only be completed by getting the exact result he wants and then introduces the piranha - Mira - to the equation to ensure it won't be a dead end stalemate Then in the end he can explain that yes, his motives are complex. Because the solution to save 8 billion without killing 6 billion is a hairline precise set of circumstances that he wouldn't be able to figure out what is naturally. So he had to make them create it. He had to make them all resonate to read them and make them all resonate to give them all awakened shifter powers for the future and to read at all. Furthermore I would play up his ego. The smugness of his own intelligence being double edged to believing he has to cause this himself because he's the only one who can. A staunch belief that he HAS to be what causes the bricks to fall as they should. And it'd make his point of "but I didn't do anything in this timeline. Everyone is prepped and noone is dead" more valid. Because he doesn't shift. He doesn't emotionally register all the timelines he massacred to get this one. He only know the actions that caused his personal outcome as a list of checked boxes checked off through their memories

Me: Furthermore, there could be another reason why he has to be the one triggering these events. I was super annoyed that it was like "Oh so now free the soul isn't enough. We need another terrorist group with a world ending leader. And what was the left thing about?" Well what if its not a separate terrorist group. What if the religious fanatic he's talking about is himself, transported forward in time. A younger version of himself is ending the world to create the ideal existence Dio was talking about. But the Delta who arrived in the original way back when doesn't shift. He has to live all those years. He meets interesting being like Sean that makes him realize that the differences between people makes for various choices that makes life beautiful. So now he has to find a way to out-checkmate himself to stop himself. How? Prep a group of people capable of doing what he can't to try and outsmart him. And set up a winning condition entirely set on being able to do that.

Friend: that's actually so brilliant because yeah I think definitely the weakest part of this outcome is that it doesn't really solve the problem that he set out to solve "You're all really motivated now!" oh so… what they wouldn't have tried to stop a terrorist attack if he hadn't made them all kill each other? the heck is that also, yeah I was going to ask you about that at some point. like, he doesn't mention Left at all in ZTD and I was confused if Sean was supposed to be related

Me: I don't think so. Because he was an old man when he met Sean in the hospital. But I think he was fascinated by Sean's approach to life And maybe made him consider that something could be beautiful outside of Left

Friend: this man just goin around creating marvels of science to preserve dead little boys

Me: I'm thinking part of it is also like Solving the conundrum of giving him whatever he wanted. He has his dreams of the future. He can give him that. But he's not in despair of having to die before that reality. So he gives ukm the option of death too By just giving him the option at all, he's ensured both will happen somewhere Thus the ideal outcome of how he can have both comes true Lastly, Mira's ending. I think they should have empathized more that she became a killer to understand experiencing emotions instead of just pretending them. She chases Eric because she thinks she wants to feel that rush again, but her connection with Sean could show her something different. That either through resonance she could experience emotions through others OR that you can still essentially be human even if you're only able to "simulate" having those emotions, like a robot (:Sean) does.

Me: Meanwhile Sean both wants better for and cannot forgive Mira for her crimes. But thanks to the choice with the bad and happy ends, he has an answer for how to both make Mira live with her crimes and ensure a future where it doesn't happen. By creating a split timeline where she goes back and stops her crimes from being committed. In this case, the original Mira would still know and have to live with what she did. But in the other timeline a young Mira never becomes the heart ripper and the crimes are undone. The sins are therefore both being punished and remembered for happening and erased to begin with at the same time.

Friend: you know what I like that one. that's a good way of interpreting it, especially with the way the transporter works also, doubly digging this idea. Mira being shown this robot child who either somehow experiences emotion or at the very least simulates it in such a way what it fools everyone (and also is capable of calling her out on her own emotional mistakes) should have so much more of an impact on her

Me: Yeah Like I genuinely think you could fix this game either a few tweaks

Friend: yeah absolutely also I'm not sure what the amnesia element really did for it? I guess it was to confuse the SHIFTers so they wouldn't know they had already SHIFTed but to what end?

Me: It might be to confuse the computer. Keep it from figuring out its not the real Sean too fast If it remembers being Sean it'd be easy to compare and contrast all the things that Sean definitely couldn't do or know and reach the conclusion If it doesn't remember being Sean, there's nothing to compare any contradictions to. It can only just assume that the reasons are things it can't remember Also, if the computer ONLY has Eric and Mira, it makes it more incentives to latch onto them and care about their situations, despite them both being monsters in their own right Oh Also The Carlos thing Rather than just "I couldn't have met you guys" you could do: 1) in order to fix this we need phi and Sigma here. That means we need a timeline where Akane and Junpei escape but don't stop Zero or the radical-6 outbreak. So he breaks in to bust them out. 2) they need the timeline where Delta gives them answers. Meaning they need a timeline where Zero "wins". So he can't interfere. 3) split worlds principle. By just introducing the choice to stop zero's plans or not, he's creates both options. This is the world where he doesn't stop Zero. But because he comes pre-packadged with the knowledge of what's gonna happen, he can still tail actions to secure the timeline that'll allow for them all to stop zero So there is a timeline where he stops Delta before DCOM, but because of the anthropic principle (there must be a perciever for the option to be percieved) Akane and Junpei never see it because they never had to go through the game. They only percieve the option where Carlos didn't stop Delta in time

Friend: that makes perfect sense to me gosh imagine that timeline, though. Akane and Junpei never go to DCOM so they never meet there poor Junpei is probably still chasing the ghost of this woman who …wait what was her reason for going to DCOM again?

Me: So her and Sigma could stol the outbreak Stop Of radical-6 ALSO also

Friend: yeah that's what I assume but I swear the game acts like she doesn't even know about Sigma or Phi or the outbreak

Me: (I've thought about how to fix this game a lot idk if you can tell) The thematic relevance of "but then I couldn't have met you guys" can actually be valid if you flip it around.

Friend: hahaha understandable how so?

Me: Because of Carlos, Akane can come to terms with the changes in Junpei and see the validity in the "broken" futures by showing there's things worth remembering even in the imperfect ones. Like the argument Junpei makes at the end of VLR, the relationships after the disasters still mean something to the survivors. And Carlos helps Junpei realize there's still fundamentally good people in the world and come to terms with Akane and what she did and who she is now. By inserting Carlos they're able to help mend their relationship. And if Carlos never met them because the DCOM experiment didn't go down like it did, their relationship wouldn't have been mended either They'd still just end up like how they did at the end of VLR. Essentially dead to each other "You're not who I thought you were, goodbye"

Friend: very true it certainly seems like by this game they were never really going to be able to talk it over on their own he was a necessary mediator

Me: Not to mention If Carlos never met THEM, he'd never realize the cause of the reverie syndrome to save Maria

Friend: True! Gosh she's kind of a whole anomaly herself

Me: Yes! I think it could be cool if the they worked her more into Carlos and his abilities tbh Let's think back to the 999 lore The idea of the Sender and Receiver If Maria was the "sender", she could have gone into reverie when she was stuck in the fire, trying to save herself and her family. She continues to be stuck in reverie because she keeps simulating how to a) save her family totally and b) save Carlos from all his other eventual dooms The problem with saving her family is that there is a huge world crisis going down soon that's gonna wipe out most of humanity anyway! So? Make sure Carlos goes to DCOM to save her and have her essentially be a satellite quantum simulator to feed Carlos his insights And through that also learn from Akane and Junpei (or just the experience itself) that either the timeline where their parents was also saved still exists but isn't percievable Or come to terms with their death by still having Carlos that survives both DCOM and the would-be apocalypse And thus be able to lay the endless simulations to rest and wake up (With the added cute twist that she already knows Akane and Junpei and their relationship with her brother when she wakes up. Thus why she's so invested in it in the epilogue)

Friend: that is a bizarre kind of adorable and sweet! she's his own quantum computer though I wonder if they'd be able to still use those abilities after she wakes up in that case

Me: I'm guessing it'd just go back to working like it did in 999. Carlos himself might be able to do it on his own from longtime exposure too, who knows.

[betweenthings2]

hello!!! warning you now that this is going to be the longest thing ever because i’m allergic to being concise but it’s finally time for me to actually send you an ask to gush and discuss your incredible writing. i’ve been interacting with your work on ao3 and tumblr for over a year now and i just lurk and heart everything because i refuse to use tumblr how it’s intended to be used🫣 but it’s time to show my face (even though this is anonymous oops) and say the quality of your writing is genuinely unparalleled to anything else i’ve ever read online and dare i say it comes close to/ overtakes some of the published books i’ve read and loved. you are such a talent it drives me crazy. you’ve quite literally spoiled fanfiction for me because i’ll read something for a different fandom and think “ugh it’s good but it’s not betweenthings2😔😔😔”

i saw you answer an ask a while ago asking what your goal for writing is and you said something along the lines of wanting to move people with your work. when i saw that it made me smile because you’ve achieved it ten times over and im worried you don’t realise it!!! so im going to tell you about my experience reading Roadkill for the first time (side note but in my opinion this is your best and therefore most underrated piece and i would love to talk about it further)

i remember being at a cafe that day by myself having a little drink and sweet treat and getting the email notification that you’d posted something to ao3 and nearly dying from anticipation for the rest of the day because i knew i wouldn’t do the fic justice to just quickly read it in a noisy cafe. it would be a waste of art. so in the evening i lied to my parents that i had plans with friends and wouldn’t be home for dinner and instead walked to the park near my house with a block of chocolate and sat on a park bench in the slightly-chilly-but-still-nice-out australian dusk. trust me i remember it so vividly because it’s like a core memory for me now. i’d been going through a really tough time mentally and felt super disconnected from everything and everyone. when i tell you i read all 35k words in one sitting and wept like a baby. i’m a very emotional girl dont get me wrong but the release that your writing made me feel was something so special that i’d never felt before. the whole piece is so devastating and confronting and just misery but it made me feel so seen and whole and human. if i could describe your writing in one word i think it would be human. everything is always raw and vulnerable and messy but so tender it just makes me insane. i sat in that park and cried for such a long time and even though the whole experience was so heavy and i could feel the grief you manufactured in my gut i left that park feeling lighter and grounded. i think that’s how anyone would feel after witnessing such greatness. (side note but i’ve actually banned myself from re-reading roadkill for the minute because it makes me lose my mind a bit too much but that’s just a further testament to you. can’t wait to get back to my scripture later on)

your other fics on ao3 and perfect as well and i read Second Letter From St Julian, All This Barley Getting By, I Forget A Lot Of Things But I’ll Never Forget You and Me And You vs Them religiously. they are my comfort fics through and through🩷 maybe the hyper fixation has gone too deep for me but when i’m trying to fall asleep i use the plots of your fics to expand on in my head and it’s just the perf combination to lull me to sleep.

now for imo the main event of this ask- i need to tell you the extreme and life threatening brainrot THIS specific line from Of Bouquets And Back Rubs has given me.

"Sorry," Matty apologizes.

George sighs, but doesn't stop. "I'm going to start talking to your therapist if you keep apologizing for things you don't need to apologize for," he says.

what the hell. you can’t just write that and expect my whole world to not revolve around it for the rest of my life. that line ping pongs around my head at all times. at work, in the shower, when i’m on a walk, when i’m laying in bed, it’s literally always on my mind. i don’t know why but i just thought you should know that’s it’s STUCK with me. like i’m truly affected. (if you ever wanted to expand on it you know you have at least one devoted fan of the idea)

hopefully this will be my first of many asks because it’s so nice to finally tell you how deeply in love i am with your words. to hold me accountable i’ll claim the matcha emoji 🍵 if that’s something you do!!!!

i just realised i didn’t tell you how your prompts make me melt but they do and i wouldn’t survive the commute to tafe without them. just little bites of pure literature you spoil us so much.

thanks for giving me something to lurk on and obsess over- it’s been an honour🩷 (also ps i wonder if you can figure out who this is based on the freaky amount of times i heart your posts. someone has to sit me down and explain that this isn’t instagram🤕)

Hi, newly christened Matcha Anon!! =)

I meant to answer this yesterday, but I just kept reading through it and being so incredibly touched and blown away by all of your kind words that I didn't entirely have a response, but I think I do now. I will also be long.

First of all, I am so touched (and a little surprised) that you find my writing to be on par with published novels, so thank you so much, that is such an amazing compliment!!! I can't believe I've spoiled you for fic. I'm getting back into the swing of things now that I'm home, so I'll have more fic for you soon.

I'm also so glad to hear that I've creating something moving. Sometimes I think I take things a little too seriously, particularly writing fic, but I'm thrilled to hear that you find my work moving. This will be stuck in my head forever:

"it would be a waste of art."

Roadkill was a lot to write because it gets so bleak and some of me is in there, but I'm so moved by your experience of reading it and honored that you would share it. That's my goal, generally--to create catharsis. And to see my fanfic called greatness? Oh my god. Oh my god. I have no words other than oh my god and thank you so, so much!!

I'm thrilled to see that Of Bouquets and Backrubs resonated with you, particularly that bit of dialogue. That whole fic was a little bit last minute, to be entirely honest and I was working so hard to make it fluffy, rather than angsty. I might expand on that fic in the future, but I also really like how it ended. Who knows what will happen. I don't.

I'm also so happy that you like the prompts! I think they're really fun to write and very low stakes for me. Apologies for not having a more regular schedule for posting anything, but there's no way I could keep that up for more than a week or two. I would explode.

Thank you so much for all the compliments and reading what I write!!! 💚💚💚

[tealeavesandthorns]

Thread Tracker |

Yes, it's gotten to that point!

Due to tumblr being a butthole and the notifs not working properly I've created a thread tracker so I can see everything easily.

The thread tracker can be found HERE

If there's anything missing, or you don't see yourself on there and I owe you (I've gone off incredibly recent memory, that I can remember because my brain has been mush the last week or so), please let me know, (a link to the thread would be perf), then I can add it.

I will add this to my pinned post asap.

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

Probably not the last school post but I really need to make a decision and true to overthinking fashion, I’m probably going to spend my entire weekend grappling with this decision.

I think I’m leaning toward taking a break. I need to know by Monday.

The rest of this is just processing.

The video I posted yesterday really resonated with me. Elyse said “the right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing”

I think, at times, I tend to really gaslight myself spiritually (the traumatized 90s church kids get it haha). We’re taught “God won’t give us anything we can’t handle.” But I’m also realizing (through school since it’s a Christian university and we do devotionals every week) that God also gives us discernment and wisdom.

Everything seemed to be lining up so perfectly for school. I was supposed to start in 2021, but the program shut down. It ended up that 2021 was one of my worst years of life (there was literally something traumatic that happened every month), I got transferred to a school with a really great curriculum set up, we ended up moving into a two bedroom so I could have separation from work, my job moved me closer to home which cut down on commute time, I got a pay raise which would help with the costs of school. It just so happened that all of this was happening around the time school started. So it felt “right”, it felt “God ordained.”

Looking back in this very moment, maybe it wasn’t for the purpose of school. Maybe it wasn’t for the purpose of anything in particular. Maybe it fell into place for wedding planning and the wedding, maybe it was an opportunity to work on my physical and mental health. Whatever it was, I focused on school and have been forcing myself to keep pushing because “this is where God wants me to be”

Elyse also said that sometimes you have to say no when the timing isn’t right not because of fear or imposter syndrome, but because of your limits at this time.

I think I struggle with this part the most, but I feel more affirmed looking at it this way. I’ve struggled with the “why” do I want to leave. I’m very hard on myself and I feel a lot of guilt and pressure from my parents. Their thoughts become my thoughts. Is it because I’m lazy? Because I want to do nothing after work? Because I’m afraid of the internship? Because I’d rather go out with friends? Am I incapable? But it’s none of that.

I know I am 100% capable of finishing grad school. I’ve proven through 4 classes now that I am capable. It can’t be laziness or else I’d never turn things in. Not only am I able to do the assignments, I’m getting all A’s. My lowest grade so far was a 96% and that’s because I skipped doing an assignment because I just had too many things going on to do it. Fear is not what is holding me back.

“An opportunity that seems perfect can swallow you whole and spit you back out and take a lot more from your life than it will give to you”

THIS. When I weight the pros and cons of each decision, there are way more cons of leaving. But when I put them on a weighted scale, the pros of leaving wins by a landslide. I think the reasons I’m leaving have more value than the reasons I’d be staying. My mental and physical health need to be a priority because that’s what gives me the strength to do life. I think that maybe I needed a hard push from life to understand that. Even my sleep schedule is crucial because sleep is what helps regulate our moods, maintain our physical health, process memories and retain learning, and probably so many other things. The fact that I am getting 4-5 hours of poor sleep a night Could be reason enough to pause. I really only say that because I’m still trying to adjust to this new work county and learning how to set forth boundaries on my time. Therefore I’m just not sleeping when I have to leave my house at 630 in the morning for a meeting an hour away, etc.

At this point, school seems to be taking more than its giving. Again, I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect. Perfection in this situation is continuing to get all A’s, graduate on track, be at every work meeting no matter how late I went to sleep, be there for every family function, be available any time a friend wants to spend time. That’s…not humanly possible. I think that no matter when I’m in school, there will always be something I have to sacrifice and unfortunately that tends to be friends and family. But with time, I think I can adjust work expectations and school expectations. I think if I work on my mental health, I will be more capable of balancing all of these things. If I am in better physical health (I’m talking about menstrual/hormonal issues, my weight, my sleep) I will be more capable of balancing everything.

Right now, I feel like school is taking everything from me. I’ve been having a lot of flashbacks again of my first marriage (I don’t understand why, other than I think when I’m stressed, it reminds me of the stress I felt back then) and taking it out on M. This isn’t okay. I’m also having a lot of emotions resurfacing from undergrad - that same feeling of loss of control, hopelessness, pressure. These things almost broke me. And my biggest fear is that if I don’t get a handle on my mental health, I may not be so lucky next time.

But then there’s that other side of this where I feel so dramatic. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. That I’m romanticizing this break. I have 11 more months to go. Why can’t I just do it? But I think my mental health is important enough for this break. I have to make changes in my life, for real this time. And I think I finally have tangible motivation and goals to help me succeed.

[perenlop]

✨❤️✂️🧠 for all of team starfall!!!

KJDL:GJFDL:GJDFL:GJDFLGFDG EVE OMG YAY

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

-skylar: tbh i just thought skylar was a really pretty name and wanted it for one of my characters at the time. i coulddd change it to something that has more meaning that aligns with their character but uhhhh their original name within the story kinda does that anyways i think dfklsdf. im attached at this point

-asha: *hangs my head low* i saw it in wings of fire and thought it was cute. ok but for real i decided it for asha after looking up the meaning, which is "life" which sounds broad but considering her story is about how she and certain antagonists are not sure if she deserves life at all? is fitting

-valerie: another name that i just thought was cute. you can see a theme here. but the word valerie is often associated w fairies and mermaids, at least when i checked it was, and valerie is both! so on a superficial level it works

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

skylar: they would tell you that taking down their first ultra beast with little experience was one, or unlocking their psychic powers- it made them feel on top of the world- but their real best memories was one evening after a particularly harsh day- they and asha had been targeted again and struggled to find a place to heal- everything slowed down. this was earlier in their travels, and both were panicked children who didn't Quite gel at first. skylar was even planning on running off if it meant they wouldn't get attacked. but that night, they were prepared to sleep off their injuries until asha went out and got them food, and came back with that and a warm blanket they'd taken. asha put the blanket around them, making sure they were comfortable, and pat their head until they were nearly asleep. though it was still restrained since asha didn't want to get too close and hurt skylar, it was one of the first moments of intimacy skylar could remember. that was when they realized they wanted to stay with asha despite their differences and situation.

asha: castor taking them out to see the stars at around age 8 after a really stressful day where she shut down, almost glitched out and couldn't talk to anyone because they were just afraid they'd break. she felt humiliated and self hating because this happened at school. castor, wanting to help her feel better, flew her up to the clouds and they searched the night sky for all of the other planets and stars out of their reach. the whole time, asha was wrapped in his wings, trying to show her that he wasn't afraid of her despite her condition being contact-based, as well as give her physical comfort. it's part of why the night sky is so important to her, it's one of her core memories.

valerie: marlow deciding that it'd be good for her to know her water type roots around age 10 and taking her on a small trip through the ocean's edge and rivers through serenade falls, including letting her play behind serenade's popular waterfall. since marlow would often have to work hard to support them, it was a beautiful day where the two of them could just bond and be normal siblings for a day, and it was also when valerie could just explore and find new things for a day.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

skylar: it's hard for them to place. most of their memories are gone, and only a few vague ones appear to them in the form of dreams. but they would consider those dreams nightmares. the worst one they can barely describe, is of their own body being stretched and strained while hearing a voice crying in either anger or sadness, until they came apart entirely.

asha: being separated from her family. it was the first time she was really, truly, all alone. and not only that, she was trapped in an unfamiliar world with no guidance or comfort, and they were being hunted by... someone. multiple people. things. everyone was out for her. it's not a memory she likes to reflect on.

valerie: trying to perform on her own for some time without marlow's help, believing so hard- even with her condition, she could perform moves fine, so she'd be okay, right? and for a while, she was. but she wore herself out hard. she ended up being bedridden while her aura stabilized, missing the winter solstice festival that year. the guilt on marlow's face haunts her to this day.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

skylar- oh the main thing i love about them is a. big spoiler JLKSDJFLSDJFDSF but otherwise!! i really enjoy thinking about their backstory and how it's affected them to the present. they're very similar to valerie in a lot of ways (to a point i might have to tweak them further actually) in that they've been restrained for so long that they just revel in the fact that they can just... do whatever they want. be free. not hold anything back. it takes them a bit to realize, what with the amnesia, but by the time valerie enters the picture, they're a chaotic force to be messed with!

asha- oh i will project onto her so hard. ok for real i am just a sucker for characters that are stoic, blunt, and lonesome to a fault but have a kind spot that shines through, and theyre like that because of a wall theyve put up that has to be lowered with time. asha starts off the story as a very jaded person who hates herself to the point that if she didnt fear death so much, she would have just let it consume her. but their story is about them learning to love themself as they are and take control of their life and let them seek out things that make them happy, and realize how she's impacted the lives of those around her. idk shes very special to me and i love her sm...

valerie- BY FAR it is her optimism combined w her insecurities. omg. first of all her joyful personality is so fun to write, and it's not a front or anything, she's not inconsiderate like princely is in BoP's beginning, she's just someone who loves the people in her life, loves the world around her, and wants to be a positive influence for everyone. the problem that comes with that though... is that she's a doormat. she doesn't often get what SHE wants because she's just giving and giving and giving. she doesn't think she doesn't deserve to take, necessarily, but the opportunity just isn't there a lot of the time. the few times she's reached out to try and get what she wants most- an adventure around the world- it's been squandered somehow. whether she gets denied an escort request or someone in her life puts the idea down because "you're too frail for that! it'd be better for you and everyone to sit still". i don't like, LOVE that ofc but it just makes her feel very real to me. i think she's admirable and its understandable to me how she changes throughout starfall... and in the end, still decides to be a positive influence, now being able to stand up for herself and getting the aide she needs.

[callsign-jinx]

Hello, my beloved Darling!!! You still never cease to amaze me with all your works, so allow me to obsess over them, because they are so good!!!!

Tasting the Ashes Nightmares fade, memories don't is so so so emotional!!! I love it!

"“It was going to be a surprise, but you had to ask.”" - why am I not surprised that Rooster cannot keep secrets from Ash? 😂 Even though he was the one to plan it, hahaha. I love how all the women have the pover over their partners to get the all to confess their secrets!

"Ash has been around Rooster long enough to know that when he stays quiet like that, he’s done something he shouldn’t have." - aww, Ash being able to read Bradley so easily is such a lovely touch. I know they spent enough time around one another for this to happen, but it still warms heart so much 💗

Again, needed self-restraint not to copy-paste the whole nightmare sequence. It is brilliant!!!! The mixture of the events and the present and Steve changing into Bradley in the dream is incredible and the twins being added into it all is just peak tension and pressure and drama and I love it!!! It is so, so, so well done!!! Incredible!!!

"“Are you here with me?” He asks, voice tight and eyes darting over your body, as if looking for any sign of harm." - and then this beautiful darling being all soft and protective and worried!!! I am melting!!! So beautiful transition from the dream to reality as well! 🥹💗

"“And the worst part is that I’m glad he died.”" - okay, Ash seriously needs a big, wholesome hug. From multiple people. It's a good thing that Mav specialises in having traumatised children and had plenty of time to practice with Jake. And that Penny is basically a badass sweatheart. And that the entirety of the Dagger family is up for group hugs as well. They can give poor darling Ash a great, well-deserved hug.

"“Want to stop talking about this and go back to sleep?”" - the attentive sweetness of Bradley Bradshaw is getting to me. I love him! 🥹💗

"He's not like that. He wants to help you, not destroy you." - oh my goodness, so much trauma these two have to get through together, I love it!!!! 💗

""Being glad of your abuser's death doesn't mean you're a bad person, Hen.”" - he called her Hen!!! My heart!!! So sweet!!! 💗

"Bradley sighs, letting his upper body fall into the mattress. “Sometimes it feels like this world takes more strength than it gave me.”" - aww, poor Bradley, he needs some hugs too

"“Oh, I can tell by the middle names you got for the babies.” You retort, lying down and covering yourself with the blankets.", "“Hey, they’re cool! I know a few people that will cry when they find out about them.”" - I am so interested!!!

"How can a man who has gone through so much be so gentle and caring? How can that poor tortured soul be taking care of three human beings when he’s the one that should be taken care of?" - these are such beautiful and heartbreaking questions 🥹💗

"“Thank you, Mama Hen.” The name makes you chuckle and shake your head. “Good night.”", "“Good night, Rooster.”" - awww, they are so sweet, I love them!!! 💗💗

This whole chapter is incredible and unique and beautiful and has so many emotions so masterfully blended together!!! Absolutely breathtakingly amazing my Darling!!! 💗💗💗

Loving the Moodboard for Gina!!! "Seduce and destroy" - 👀 I am so excited for all the drama that she brings!!!

And the Valentine's Cards?!?!?!? Perfect, impeccable, 1000000% accuratr and valid, amazing, hilarious, perfe-... Yeah, love them!!! 💗

"It's a Pacific Rim x Top Gun crossover. I have lots of things to write, lota of things to decide... it's an exciting whole new universe!" - O.M.G!!!!!!! THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA!!!!!! It never crossed my mind to put these two together, but it makes perfect sense!!!!! You are a GENIOUS!!!!!! AHHH!!! This is gonna be incredible!!!!! 💗💗💗

My Darling, you are awesome. You keep knocking me off my feet with your talent and genious ideas and unique and incredible storytelling. You are amazing. Love you and sending you so much love and hugs!!! 💗💗💗💗💗💗

(italics anon 💚)

P.S.: thank you so much for these absolute gems even though you are on hiatus. And do not feel pressured to write my Lovely, only do it if you feel up to it, and take all the time you need!!! 💗💗💗

"“It was going to be a surprise, but you had to ask.”" - why am I not surprised that Rooster cannot keep secrets from Ash? 😂 Even though he was the one to plan it, hahaha. I love how all the women have the pover over their partners to get the all to confess their secrets!

L I S T EN. I've seen it. When you're with the 'right' person (if that even exists) it comes to the point that you can just know when they're planning something, they're hiding something, or they're lying about something. I love showing that in my stories and I love that you notice it!

It's a good thing that Mav specialises in having traumatised children and had plenty of time to practice with Jake

I SHOULDN'T HAVE LAUGHED THE WAY I DID WHEN I READ THIS HAHAHAHAHAH

"It's a Pacific Rim x Top Gun crossover. I have lots of things to write, lota of things to decide... it's an exciting whole new universe!" - O.M.G!!!!!!! THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA!!!!!! It never crossed my mind to put these two together, but it makes perfect sense!!!!! You are a GENIOUS!!!!!! AHHH!!! This is gonna be incredible!!!!! 💗💗💗

I can't take the credit for that, I wish I was that smart, but I saw someone a while ago writing about it. I can't remember who it was, but a few days ago I saw the movies again and I remembered that someone wrote about it, and I thought... why not? And here we are!

Thank you for the amount of love I get from you, love. It makes it all so much better 💚💚💚💚

[softdose]

PC Specs for Call of Duty Gaming

Are you ready to play Call of Duty: Warzone without lag or interruptions? Choosing the best gaming PC specs is the first step. Warzone is a popular game that needs a powerful PC to run smoothly. But don’t worry! I’ll break it down into simple tips to help you build or buy the right gaming PC.

Why Do Specs Matter for Warzone?

Warzone is a big and detailed game. If your PC isn’t strong enough, you’ll face problems like low frame rates and slow loading times. With the right specs, you can: - Enjoy smoother gameplay. - See enemies clearly with high-quality graphics. - Avoid delays that might ruin your experience.

Photo by Onur Binay on Unsplash So, let’s look at the best specs for Warzone.

Processor (CPU)

The processor is the brain of your PC. A good CPU makes sure the game runs fast and doesn’t lag. For Warzone, here are the ideal processors: - Minimum: Intel Core i5 or AMD Ryzen 5 (6 cores) - Recommended: Intel Core i7 or AMD Ryzen 7 (8 cores) The more cores a CPU has, the better it handles heavy games like Warzone.

Graphics Card (GPU)

The GPU is what makes the game look amazing. It shows all the details, like trees, buildings, and shadows. For Warzone, choose a strong GPU: - Minimum: NVIDIA GTX 1650 or AMD RX 580 - Recommended: NVIDIA RTX 3060 or AMD RX 6700 XT A better GPU lets you play on higher settings without any stutters. You might like: Best Gaming PCs and Laptops for Among Us

Memory (RAM)

RAM helps your PC manage the game’s data while you play. For Warzone, having enough RAM is crucial. Here’s what you need: - Minimum: 8GB - Recommended: 16GB or higher More RAM means smoother multitasking and faster performance.

Storage

Warzone is a huge game, and it takes up a lot of space. You’ll also need fast storage to load the game quickly. Here’s what works best: - Minimum: 256GB SSD (Solid State Drive) - Recommended: 512GB SSD or more SSDs are faster than regular hard drives, so your game will load much quicker.

Monitor

Your monitor also matters for Warzone. A good monitor lets you see the game’s graphics clearly and react faster. Here’s what to look for: - Resolution: At least 1080p (Full HD) - Refresh Rate: 144Hz or higher - Response Time: 1ms or 2ms These features make sure you don’t miss any action during the game.

Power Supply Unit (PSU)

A good PSU powers all the parts of your gaming PC. If it’s too weak, your PC might crash while gaming. Here’s what you need: - Wattage: At least 500W for basic setups - Recommended: 650W or more for high-end builds Make sure your PSU is reliable and has good reviews. Also Read: Best Gaming Devices for Monopoly Gaming

Cooling System

Warzone can push your PC to its limits, making it hot. A proper cooling system prevents overheating. Options include: - Air Cooling: Budget-friendly and effective - Liquid Cooling: Best for high-performance PCs

Keyboard and Mouse

A responsive keyboard and mouse can make a big difference in Warzone. Look for: - Keyboard: Mechanical keys with fast response - Mouse: High DPI (Dots Per Inch) for quick movements

Internet Connection

Even with the best PC, a slow internet connection can ruin your game. Make sure to: - Use a wired Ethernet connection for stable speeds. - Choose an internet plan with at least 50 Mbps download speed. My Pc specs for Warzone ComponentRecommendationProcessor (CPU)AMD Ryzen 5 5600XGraphics Card (GPU)NVIDIA RTX 3060RAM16GB DDR4Storage1TB SSDPower Supply (PSU)650W Gold RatedCoolingLiquid CoolingMonitor144Hz, 1080p When I first started playing Warzone, my PC wasn’t up to the task. The game was slow, and the graphics looked blurry. I upgraded my GPU to an NVIDIA RTX 3060 and added 16GB of RAM. The difference was night and day. Now, I can enjoy the game without any issues. Upgrading my SSD also helped a lot. The game loads in seconds, and I never have to wait long to jump into a match. These changes made my gaming experience so much better. Also Read: How Does a Higher Clock Speed, Like 3.2 GHz, Improve Gaming Performance? In Short Before buying or building a gaming PC for Warzone, remember these tips: - Check the game’s system requirements. - Choose parts that match your budget and needs. - Invest in quality components to avoid problems later. With the right specs, you’ll have an amazing time playing Warzone. Happy gaming! Read the full article