#but (and i’m gonna be a broken record by saying what i’ve seen others saying) it felt rushed
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idk i have thoughts about the finale but atm im not sure how to word them beyond hmm? (my tags are full of spoilers so don’t read them if you haven’t seen the finale yet)
#i need to think a bit more#and this is gonna sound weird coming from me but i wouldn’t have minded more angst?#i love angst when it’s written with a narrative purpose#like i was deranged after the end of s1#it’s why i thought s2 would end with them separated but in love and have to fight back to each other#that angst would pull people into s3 with as much fervor as the angst after s1 pulled people into s2#and i would have had SO much fun exploring that angst in fics#as it stands now? idk#i have another canon divergence fic in mind#(well it’s the last chapter in im starving darling but whatever)#but that angst. i just. hhhhhhhh.#like i said. complicated feelings.#and maybe i wouldn’t have minded seeing Ed and Stede have that conversation about opening the inn#it felt unfinished from Stede’s end#we spent all of ep7 watching him love being The Pirate#and then we don’t even get a conversation bw him and Ed where they talk about retiring to be innkeepers?#where Ed asks Stede to choose him over fame?#look don’t get me wrong i had such a blast with this season and loved every minute of it#but (and i’m gonna be a broken record by saying what i’ve seen others saying) it felt rushed#our flag means death#ofmd s2 spoilers#tagging those bc of my tag rambles
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maybe, i'm afraid.
azul ashengrotto x (female) reader
cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure
note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."
i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.
“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”
“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”
Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”
An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”
“Just reminiscing.”
“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”
“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”
Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.
“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.
“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”
“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”
“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”
“What do you mean, Jade?”
Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”
Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”
Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”
Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”
“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”
“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”
“There ya go.”
“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”
“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”
“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”
“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”
You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”
Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”
Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”
Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”
Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”
“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”
“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”
“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”
“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.
“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”
“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.”
“Really? But he’s always so strong!”
Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”
“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”
“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”
“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”
“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.”
Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”
“Liquid courage works wonders—”
“—or gives way to woe.”
“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”
Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”
“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.
“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”
“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”
“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”
“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”
There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly—all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”
Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”
Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”
“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”
“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”
“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”
Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”
“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.
“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”
Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.
“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.
“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”
“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”
“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”
Jamil sighs. “All of you…”
“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.
This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”
The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.
“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.
“W-What? Jade, that’s—”
“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”
With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.
“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”
You and Kalim share a high-five.
“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.
With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.
“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”
“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”
Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”
“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”
“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”
“Is it really so sensitive?”
“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”
“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”
Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”
“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Are you seriously asking that?”
“It’s just something to consider.”
A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.
“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”
Jade frowns in disagreement.
“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”
“Are you certain?”
“Very.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”
Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”
Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”
“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.”
“You—”
“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.
Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—
“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”
Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”
You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”
With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”
You roll your eyes, unconvinced.
Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”
Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.
“(Name), I—”
“Azul—”
“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”
“No, no, you spoke before me.”
“Ah. Well…”
If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.
He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”
“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”
“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”
“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”
Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”
“Is that advice free?”
“Is it?”
“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”
Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”
“Not at all. It adds character.”
“A horrid sort of character.”
You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”
“What an ambiguous compliment.”
“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”
“We’ll see.”
“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”
For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.
I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.
ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.
It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.
Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.
This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.
“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.
“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.
Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.
“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”
Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.
There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.
Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.
We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…
Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.
Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.
Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?
Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.
You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?
As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.
“Wha… What?”
He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.
You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.
“Hello to you as well.”
“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”
“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.
This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.
How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.
So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…
“I missed you, you know.”
“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”
You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.
“Not as much as you think.”
“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”
“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”
He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”
“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”
“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”
You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”
Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”
“What do you mean by—”
Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.
“Are two not better than one?”
With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.
“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…
You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”
“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.
Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”
You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.
“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”
You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”
“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”
You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”
“And this present would entail…?”
You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”
“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”
“How much are you willing to pay?”
School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.
Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”
“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.
You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…
“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”
“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”
“A gift for the summer.”
“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”
They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!
Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.
Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.
Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.
“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.
“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”
Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.
“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”
“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.
“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”
“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”
“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”
“A tempting offer.”
“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.
“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.
“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”
“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”
“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”
“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”
“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”
Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”
Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.
“Maybe I do.”
“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”
He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.
“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”
“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”
“It did, didn’t it?”
“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”
“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.
You sense the loss before you see it.
Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.
“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.
Please let summer pass quickly.
iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.
Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.
“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”
“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”
“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”
He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”
“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”
“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”
“Mm, I dunno about that one.”
Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.
This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.
“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”
“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”
Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”
Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”
“He ain’t wrong.”
“I’m not prepared.”
“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”
“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”
“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”
“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”
“Like a coward.”
“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”
“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”
Azul stands there, nonplussed.
Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”
“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”
He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.
Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.
“Happy birthday, Azul!”
He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.
Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”
Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.
“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.
He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”
“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”
Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”
Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”
As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”
“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.
Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”
Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.
“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”
“You’re not going to meet her?”
“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”
On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.
“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”
“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.
“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.
“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”
“Indeed.”
“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”
“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”
“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”
“You catch up with (Name) yet?”
“No? Am I meant to?”
“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”
Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.
“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”
“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.
“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”
“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”
Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”
Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?
Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”
Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”
“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.
He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.
“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”
“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”
“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”
Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”
“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”
“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”
“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”
He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”
“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”
“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”
“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”
“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”
Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”
“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”
“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”
“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”
“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”
“It doesn’t have to be complex.”
“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.
Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.
Time! He’s running out of time!
“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.
He’s running out of time.
Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.
You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.
Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.
The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.
At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—
There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.
“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”
You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?
“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
“Even if the world was ending?”
“Uh… What?”
“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”
“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”
Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”
“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”
He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”
“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”
He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!
“Alone.”
“Really? No friends or family by your side?”
“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”
There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.
“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”
“Quite the insightful judgment.”
“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”
“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”
“No strings attached?”
“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.
“No fair!”
Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.
“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”
He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?
You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.
Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.
“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”
For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.
“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”
“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”
“Hah! You wish!”
I do. I really do.
The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.
When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?
Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.
With love always,
(Name).
“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.
In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)
He rolls his eyes at that last bit.
The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.
His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.
My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…
All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.
Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…
Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.
Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…
The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.
Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!
Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.
The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.
My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.
My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.
He’s crying. He can’t help it.
Azul sits there and he sobs.
He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.
Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.
An angel. That’s what you are.
An angelfish.
And he’s Azul. Your Azul.
iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.
The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.
He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.
“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.
“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”
“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”
“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”
“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”
“What a scam.”
Jade simply smiles. Ironic.
Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”
“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”
“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”
“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”
“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”
“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.
“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Is that enough?”
“Is what enough?”
“Her friendship.”
“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.
He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.
“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”
Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.
But maybe that was also meant to be.
— — —
Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”
You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.
Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.
When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.
Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.
By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”
He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.
While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”
“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.
You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”
“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”
“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.
You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”
“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.
“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.
“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”
He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”
“One day.”
The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.
Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?
“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”
“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”
“Course you can.”
Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.
“Are your parents around?”
“Mhm!”
“Seriously? They came?”
“Course they did.”
“Did they take transformation potions?”
Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”
“Ah, got it.”
Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”
“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”
“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”
“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”
Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”
“What? Why?”
“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”
You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?
To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.
He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.
“Azul?”
He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.
You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”
“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”
“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”
“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”
“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”
“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”
“I’m pleased you think so.”
This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.
“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”
“Did you? All of them?”
“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”
An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.
“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”
“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”
“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”
Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.
“You can cry. I won’t judge.”
“I’m not going to.”
“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”
He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.
Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.
“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”
Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.
“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”
You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.
“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”
There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.
Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.
“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.
A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”
“That I’d like you?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because…”
“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”
“Every one of them?”
“Each and every one.”
He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.
Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.
He loves me.
You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.
“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.
You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.
“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.
“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.
“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.
You love him just as intensely.
He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.
“Can I call you mine?”
You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”
“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”
“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”
Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.
You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”
He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”
You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.
You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.
I’m so happy I met you.
When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.
“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”
“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”
“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”
“And are you still afraid?”
Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”
“Am I in it?”
He laughs. “More than that.”
“Oh?”
“You are my world.”
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A wish for a happy life (romantic)
The Readers gender I’ve tried to leave ambiguous
This is being made when there’s only 4 episodes out (and I haven’t yet seen them all) so there may be inaccuracies to stuff later revealed but who cares!
I got inspiration to write this after seeing @ice-cream-writes-stuff bucchigiri fic that you can find here. Please check it out
There need to be more fanfics for this show pleaseeeeee 🙏🏻
To say you were a handful as a child was an understatement
From the moment you could remember anything your knuckles were always bruised and bloodied
Bruises littering your arms like medals of a successfully won fight
Tousled hair and busted lips
Glowering and prideful eyes daring someone to be next
Fighting was almost as natural as breathing to you back then
Speaking with your fists to get across the message of not being messed with as playground bullies ran off
Violence was all you knew as a way to get attention
Crying and begging for the orphanage attendants or preschool teachers to listen was for naught
They brushed it off
Crying was white noise
But the yelling and sounds of an arm being broken on school property was heard loud and clear
On all accounts you should’ve ended up as a delinquent
For hells sake you even started a gang at some point
On all accounts you were Someone on the “wrong” path in life fated to be some lowlife scum
It was expected of you by just about every grown up
Even looking at yourself in the mirror, busted and broken you knew how you’d likely end up
You didn’t want that but what choice did you have?
You wanted to be loved, to be seen, to have a happy life
But fate didn’t seem to have that cut out for you
…at first
But despite it all
You changed
And it all started with a woman own a small Chinese restaurant and her son
Despite your track record
The scornful look on your lips and gritted teeth as the other children lined up to be picked as you sat off to the side
That kind woman and her son saw you
The kid off to the side
The unwanted
The “trouble child”
And despite the fact they should’ve picked one of the more well behaved kids they chose you
Arajin often talks about the look on your face that day
The pure disbelief
Shock
Confusion
And most of all the tears
The expression of finally being seen for the first time in your life without having to quite literally pummeling it into someone
Your expression remained that when they brought you home
A room already made for you and left for you to eventually decorate how you want
That night laying in your new bed you vowed you’d change
You’d put your life on track
Not only for yourself but for your new family
Arajin (platonic)
Arajin can removed with a whole heart the first time he met you
It was before bringing you into the family
He was training with Matakara at the time as some older kids from some gang showed up
They were probably gonna rough them up
Arajin was ready to fight when suddenly someone beat them to the punch
“Oi! You fucking meatheads I told you to leave civ’s alone!” You stood there, a scowl on your face as the others cowered. Your eyes turned to him and Matakara, sympathy flashing through the hardened eyes of steel and diamond. The unspoken words of “I’m sorry” in them.
After that he saw you around town
Never going up to you but watching in curiosity
Maybe once upon a time he’d see you like any other punk
But that day changed something
There was compassion in your eyes
Even compassion in the way you seemed to fight for others without admitting it
He could see at heart you were a good person
Someone who fought for others because no one fought for them
He didn’t know why you did what you did until he and mom ended up at that orphanage
And in the back he saw you there
To the side with a resented sadness
Knowing you would never be picked
Never be loved
Never have a good life
His eyes connected with yours and he swears he sees them widen in that moment
You were seen
You were chosen
You could have a good life now
That night he remembers your silent sobs of joy in the next room over
The next morning he design comment on your reddened eyes and neither does mom
Both just focus on how you eat with a smile
Still a little jittery as if wondering if this was real
He pats your shoulder to remind you it is
In the months following he can’t help but smile when noticing your room grow with things of your interest
The way you seem to find clothes that properly fit you
The way in which you talk with him while cooking with mom
You grow with him
Hang out with Matakara who welcomes you with open arms
When he becomes interested in base you save up your buy him one for his birthday and when it comes yours he does the same bit with a drum set
In every way possible Arajin sees you change for the better
Perhaps your temper never went away but you know how to handle it now
Use it for good
Use it without lashing out wildly
He sees that you help mom out, call her mom too
You call him Ara, call him your brother
In every way possible you look out for him as best you can
When he looses his old physique and dream you take the place of protector instead
No matter the situation you step up for him even if his idiotic actions lead to his ass being beaten
You love him like he’s actually your brother
And he loves you the same
When moving back to the graffiti covered hometown you both were born in he can’t help but see your nervous
It’s easy to tell for him since he sees past your stoic facade
Your hands fidget
Eyes glancing from place to place
Breath getting heavy
When your shared teacher talks about the class he sees your hands fidget once more
For so long you’ve protected him
And in the moment your both in front of the class he protect you
He introduces you by his nickname for you
Your stoic face breaking a little with gratitude before he immediately sits down beside a cute girl in the back of the class
You aren’t surprised, damn horny teenage boys
The sentiment of what he did thought resonates with you though
Much more than you’d ever admit to your stupid little sleez of brother
That girl he’s looking at with goo goo eyes is trouble (also vaguely familiar)
But you’d be damned if he’d get his asskicked if you weren’t there to save him
…….later on when he ends up in a temple almost completely naked and ends up shooting both himself and you with two old ass guns you almost give him the ass kicking of the century
But fortunately for him you don’t
But unfortunately for the both of you two beings appear instead
“Ara, when we get home I’m kicking you in the ass for shooting me in the stomach”
“Just don’t kill me before I lose my virginity”
“God your a degenerate”
Senya and Astḗr (platonic)
The two Majin appear from a burst of smoke swirling smoke of red’s and purples
Two magical beings demanding to know what both your and your brothers wish was
The Majin your brother was granted is much more intimidating in nature than yours who leisurely relaxes on a cloud
Their much more and lithe androgynous appearance paired with an elegant and sly smile
Whilst Senya pokes at Arajin for being a wimp, Astḗr stares at you with interest in their golden eyes
A curious expression on their face as they examine your glare of both fear and defence
A lavender tinged hand reaches out
Your frozen in fear
And then-
“Kyaaa!! You’re such an adorable human!” The Majin wraps their arms around you, choking you in a massive hug as the other lightly laughs at their behaviour. “Ah! Mind my manners! I’m Aster, now what’s your wish?”
“Huh?…w…what?”
“What’s your wish?”
“My wish?…” you think it over for a moment before a memory plays in your head as you one night watched a shooting star “I wish happy life”
The Majin grins at that, “as you wish”
And then Arajin wishes to lose his virginity which makes you and the two Majin stare at him in both shock and disbelief
Before you them rightfully punch Arajin in the head for both shooting you and wasting a wish for literally anything in the world
Meanwhile both Majin laugh their metaphorical asses off
The Majin are only seen by you and Arajin despite Ara trying to get others to see the two
Despite the fact that you had a mental breakdown when first meeting Senya and Astḗr you become quickly used to their presence
Senya is the more battle hungry of the two, enthusiastically asking you of your past experiences once hearing you had your fair share
Despite his initial impression he seems to be quite a fun guy
He even has an almost puppy like expression at times when you explain new human things as Aster listens with a look of amazement
Speaking of Aster your Majin is seemingly the youngest
Apparently their first time even experiencing the human world
Senya has granted wishes a couple times within the span of few centuries but Aster is doing it for the first time
It leaves Senya looking on like a big brother as Aster engages with you with enthusiasm
You soon realize though that your wish for a happy life was soon much more complicated than you initially wishes
“Aster why am I seeing shojo anime sparkles?!?”
The Majin giggles “well you said you wanted a happy life right! Well I watched some of those shows your mom was watching and some fairytales and well…they seem to be living a really happy life! Plus you used to live here right? Whats more happy and romantic than reuniting with your old friends!”
As much as you like Aster your gonna strangle them
Mahoro (romantic)
The girl your brother is listing after and sits beside seems worryingly familiar to you
Even she seems to notice this as she looks your way as Ara is too love stricken to notice she’s looking behind him
It’s so odd
She rings a bell in your head yet you can’t place a finger on it
Until it’s after school and you end up at a small stationary shop selling cute stuff
Even back in your delinquent days you had a soft spot for cute stuff
It was a secret you hid in the depths of your soul for your reputation
Except to two people in particular
One of which who you gifted a small my melody keychain to match your kuromi one
In that small store you pick out the cutest stuff of your dreams without any hesitation you used to have
By the time you leave your bag is filled to the brim
It’s there you bump into that pretty girl
She looks at you with big pink eyes
And it’s there passing her you notice her my melody phone charm
It’s there you realize it’s “Mai-chan” as you used to affectionately call her
The only person you felt comfortable in talking about your love for cute things
Back in the day she used to have the biggest crush on you
She’d follow you around and cling to you like a stray puppy and glaring at anyone in a 3 feet radius
She even had the gull to argue with her big bro about being to close to you
In retrospect maybe a little obsessive but at the time she was one of the few you felt…soft with plus it was probably just puppy love
Around everyone you had to be ready for a fight
You were the ruthless leader of a gang after all
You couldn’t have to to just simply sit down and enjoy something like Sanrio
Someone but yourself to put bandaids and wrap your bruised knuckles
But with her you let your guard down
She was someone you could simply be you with
And because of that, because you were her shield and someone who would genuinely listen to her
You could simply be you and she could be herself without people just perceiving her for her looks
When you were adopted though you cut contact for everyone’s sake
Because how would she feel if she saw you were a completely different person
In some sense you were ashamed
In another you thought it was best for anyone to know
When you leave the shop she stares at the kuromi merchandise you bought
Distantly you hear her nickname for you but you pretend to ignore it
When Ara asks about his prospects with his “sweet Mahoro-chan~” you can’t help but sigh
She’s doing that old habit of luring guys in for her brother to beat up since you won’t do it anymore
You tried to warn Ara but you assume you’ll have to step in personally when the time comes
“Oni-chan! I think I saw them again! And they’re hanging out with some boy! You know what that means!”
Matakara (romantic)
The moment you stood up for him and Arajin as kids he looked up to you
Despite the fact you were the leader of those kids you clearly had morals
Even watching your fights against other kids he noticed you were honourable
And that’s something that stuck with him
Sure, it didn’t take much for you to bloody your knuckles but you didn’t play dirty
You fought fair
Sure maybe you were rough around the edges but he saw in you like Arajin a kindness
One that was on display that day and even more so when you were taken in
He didn’t know you for very long until you and your family moved but when he did it was something he’d never forget
You were more kind at heart than he imagined
When he an Arajin would train you’d alway cheer them on and have celebratory snacks ready
When he pushed himself to the limit of got hurt you’d patch him up
Washing his scrapes and putting cute little bandaids on them
He was heartbroken when you left and as were you
So it’s a surprise when he suddenly sees Arajin again
And by extension that means your back too
When you both run into each other again your much more happy than Arajin
In fact his men can hardly believe it when he’s suddenly tackled hugged by you
Never can he but he then spins you around in pure joy
All the while his men Zabu and Komao watch in awe
Before you turn your attention to them
And pause
And then turn back to Matakara with an expression which could only be described as “pissed and wanting an explanation”
So turns out he joined a gang
And turns out you don’t like that much since you then suplex him onto the ground
Of all the things he learned from you it should’ve been not to get affiliated with gangs
It’s literally what you told him and Ara everyday
But nope, this block headed puppy dog did the one thing you told him not to do
Zabu and Komao almost attack you if not for Matakara laughing it off
Even if your upset with his decision he’s at least happy that your still the same you
Temperamental but compassionate
Sturdy yet gentle
Stoic and emotional all at the same time
He asks if sometime you’d like to have lunch or train at the dojo his relatives own and you agree
But only if it’s non gang related and he smiles
Zabu and Komao can practically see hearts buzzing around him and the gentle look in his eyes as you leave
They can’t really blame him for it either
“Other than joining a gang (which I’m still upset about) what have you been doing?” You ask sitting down beside him with your bento box and his. Mom made one specially for him
“Well I’ve been training. Arajin may have given up but I haven’t, it seems like you still train too” he says with the same kind smile as usual
You feel yourself get a bit flustered at that “how else am I supposed to keep that idiot brother of mine safe. I swear he walks into danger sometimes” at that Matakara laughs in agreement.
Marito (romantic)
Back when you started your gang there was only ever one person that ever came close to your strength and that was Marito
When you had defeated him it was as if he became a parasite that latched onto you (you say this lovingly and out of annoyance)
He had stuck with you like glue and became your right hand man
Quite literally helping you claw your way to the top of the metaphorical food chain
Marito and his sister were the only two people at the time that saw you for who you were
Saw where you’d slink back off to at night
Saw how utterly hopeless and alone you felt
You were strong yes, that’s what drew him to you in the first place
It was (as he says) “love at first fight”
But beyond that he began to see the person who did his sisters hair
Gave other tips In how to throw a proper punch
Allowed their mask to break In his presence and crumble
It made him grow to love you more
Respect you more
And most importantly grow to care for you despite your inability to properly see it
Despite what you thought so many people respected and looked up to you
Him included
For fucks sake his own sister got jealous when he once had to carry you or when your attention was on him too much
You didn’t see this though, perhaps couldn’t with the constant feeling of invisibility and insecurity instilled into you at birth
It’s because of this that one day you seemingly disappeared and left a note saying you gave up your position as leader to him
It hurt
It hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit
everyone felt your absence, him and Mahoro especially
But despite that Marito never gave up on trying to find you
He would get it through your thick head one way or another that he cared for you
That he loved you damn it
And if there was one thing people would agree on about Marito is was that he never gave up on something
Especially for someone he loves
So when years pass he’s still looking for you when something catches his attention
His sister mentions that she thought she saw you
It seems you were back
And with a guy? Who was also once again wrapped around her finger
He wasn’t surprised at that but moreso you were with someone
So maybe after that he got a little bit heated more than usual when interrupting Mahoro’s “date” with him to beat the shit out of him
And maybe he does get a little obsessed with his punch
And then you show up with that beautiful stoic and cold look on your face as you give him your famous combo moves
And he falls in love with you all over again
I mean how can he not?
Especially when he punch back and you simply spit the blood out to the pavement
And how can he not be jealous when you go help Arajin before realize through a now pissy Mahoro (upset he got to be within 4 feet of you) that’s your brother
From the look on his face of lovesick and determined you can’t help but feel a bit nervous in class with Arajin as Mahoro practically looks behind you and you hear some footsteps quickly approaching your classroom
“Looks like big boss is back in town! I wonder how long I’ll need to fight them to get it in their thick head how much I love them” he says kicking his feet as newer members look in confusion. The older one though know
“Oni-chan you better not hog them from me!” A huffy Mahoro grumbles
You really wish you could’ve wished for something else
Your having the feeling Arajin wishes the same
It seems they were right about having wishes always turn out in the worst of ways
Senya and Astḗr don’t seem to be doing it maliciously but rather out of obliviousness
But maybe it was both your faults for not asking for a straight forward wish from two entities that haven’t interacted with humans for centuries (or for in Astḗr’s case ever)
#platonic#romantic#bucchigiri!?! x reader#bucchigiri?!#bucchigiri x reader#Marito#marito x reader#mahoro x reader#mahoro jin#Mahoro Jin x reader#marito jin x reader#arajin tomoshibi x reader#matakara asamine#Matakara x reader
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The quiet of the infirmary was welcomed, but Leo also didn’t miss it when it was broken by Mikey bursting into the doorway with his hands holding an item above his head. “Leo! Mama and April brought strawberries AND watermelon!” Mikey announced, the huge melon balanced in his rocking hands.
“Two watermelons!”
“TWO watermelons!”
Mikey could barely contain his excitement, repeating April’s comment that filtered in from the other room and causing Leo to laugh. “She’s gonna see if Raph can fit a whole one in his mouth! You gotta come watch!”
“What? No way! There’s no way!” Leo sputtered even as Carol winced before rolling her eyes with a sigh. Leo was about to scramble off the bed, but stopped and turned back when he remembered he was supposed to watch after Donnie. Crouching close to his brother, Leo rested a hand on his shoulder and lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Hey Dee, you wanna come get some strawberries?”
With all the noise being made it was safe to say Donnie was already awake, but he appreciated Leo being quieter to talk to him. Normally he loved strawberries, but right then it just felt like too much. So with a scratchy cough he just twitched his head to decline and buried down in the blanket.
Leo seemed a little concerned at the reaction, and moved his hand to rest gently against Donnie’s forehead again. “Okay. We’ll just save some for you for later,” Leo promised, nudging his own head against Donnie for a moment before squirming off the bed. “Can you keep an eye on him, Mom?”
“Of course, honey. Go have fun and enjoy the snacks,” Carol assured, not wanting to keep Leo from being the teenager he was. She wasn’t really in the mood to watch Raph shove an entire watermelon in his mouth anyway. Leo just flashed a bright smile before he gingerly hobbled out the door.
—--------
“Coming to you live from Subway Hamato, this is April O’Neil about to witness the beginning of a new record. ONE entire watermelon, carefully cut from its disgusting rhine prison, is about to be devoured in no more than two bites by none other than Raphael Hamato.”
April’s phone was swooshed dramatically between the lair’s kitchen scene, to herself, then to the red orb of one of the watermelon’s she and Carol brought, before swooshing back up to Raph, who just gave a big smile and wave.
“Blue! Where are your crutches?” Splinter’s voice came from off camera as Leo hobbled gingerly over to them from the infirmary.
A brief flash of fear from a teenager getting caught crossed Leo’s face before he brushed it off lightly. “It’s fiiine pops. It’s just bruised,” he waved, flopping onto the stool next to Raph.
“Don’t you downplay it Blue. It’s something worse, isn’t it?” Splinter scolded, pointing the blunt ended melon knife he had at his son without fully realizing it was in his hand.
That caused Leo to roll his eyes, avoiding the concerned look from Raph. “What? Psshhh, nooo. I was just sitting on it wro-.”
“Considering the way you were walking, it’s probably one of your ligameeeennnttts- um… am I cutting these right? I think this is the first time I’ve seen a strawberry,” Casey’s interrupting commentary about Leo’s injury was steered to a different topic when Leo gave the lad a pointed stare.
“You’ve never seen strawberries??” Mikey blurted, mouth dropping. “Oh mi gosh, you have to try one, now!”
With the conversation being torn away, Raph just made sure Leo saw his concern before he turned back to April’s camera and brought his smile back. Splinter just continued to narrow his eyes at Leo though, so Leo finally broke down and hunched across the counter to whisper rapidly. “Okay, it’s a slight ATFL tear. But I’ve already taken anti inflammatories, I’m still wearing the brace, and I’ll portal back instead of walking and get ice on it after. Alright?”
Splinter kept his eyes narrowed for a moment longer than necessary so Leo would squirm slightly, but then just passed a slice of the second watermelon over to him before patting his head gently.
Giving Leo a quick wink, April shifted her phone back into view to return to her mock reporting. “Spectating with us are Raphael's younger brothers, Leonardo and Michaelangelo, his esteemed father Splinter, and the newest addition to the family, Casey Jr.”
The introductions earned a dashing smile and mask tail flip from Leo, and a toothy grin and double hand wave from Mikey. Splinter just gave his trademark grin and wink, while Casey just looked confused. Something that only increased when April stayed on him for her next question. “What are your thoughts Casey Jr? Will history be made, or will we be cleaning watermelon from the floors?”
“Uhhhhhh…,” Casey’s blank answer was reflected on his face openly, gaze moving from April, to Raph, then the peeled watermelon orb.
“An astute answer, my boy! Who can say? Such a feat has never been attempted before, being deemed too unfair for the annual Lair Games. Raphael, are you confident in your performance?” April adapted to Casey’s non answer easily, swooshing the camera back to Raph.
“Raph is gonna eat this melon in one bite. Like a BOSS! I can fit my fist in my mouth, and this thing isn’t even as big as my fist!” Raph responded, pumping his arm and holding his closed fist next to the melon for comparison.
“There you have it folks! A man of confidence ready to take on his foe. If you’re ready, we’ll begin in three, two, one!” April cheered, figuring she shouldn’t delay them any longer since Leo and Mikey were already shoving their slices of watermelon halfway into their own mouths, and Raph already had the melon orb in his hands.
By the count of one Raph shoved the melon into his mouth and chomped down, the fruit being crushed and squished out from his cheeks even as juice poured down his chin. Leo and Mikey were belting out their laughter within seconds, only getting louder when Raph smiled proudly and cupped his hands under his chin to catch the falling fruit pieces. Mikey’s laughing ended up mixed with pained chirps though as his bruised ribs protested the rough treatment, and he slid off his stool and circled around his chest.
“Yu khey M’kee?” Raph asked around his mouthful, causing Leo to give a loud honk before he fell off his own stool, and April had to put her phone down so her own roaring didn’t shake it while it was still recording.
“HA - AAHHOW! SHUT UP!” Mikey howled, wheezing and slapping the floor while his other hand pressed against his side. And after a quick glance at Splinter to make sure the teens were actually okay, being met with loud laughter from Splinter, Casey gave a soft huff of amusement before he allowed himself to add his own voice to the raucous merriment.
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Previous
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some silliness for you guys >U<
(leo's mask being pushed up for eating was directly inspired by this headcanon from thesofgengar )
#my art#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#Raph#Leo#Mikey#better genes continued#writing#fanfic#rottmnt fic#watermelon#long post
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Haechan As A Boyfriend
Constant compliments
He is always giving you a compliment. I mean, his nicknames for a are compliments in themselves. But it's not just your appearance he compliments. You breath and he's giving heart eyes like "Wow, I've never seen anyone breath like that. You're amazing, beautiful". And he is always so genuine. He somehow says it in a way where you Have to believe him.
Mild pda that turns into spicy pda
I'm sure we've all seen videos of home touchy he is with his members, so it's only right to assume that'll be amplified for his s/o. It always starts the same, a simple hand on your waist that leads to his head nuzzled between your neck and shoulder, that leads to kisses being pressed up your neck and to your jaw. Keep in mind 9/10 this happens in front of the members. I hope you don't get embarrassed easy.
Loves getting to know more about you
Asks random questions at two in the morning when neither of you can sleep. "So what's your favorite flower" "what's your dream vacation" "tell me your top five favorite disney princesses" Gets upset if Rapunzel and Jasmine aren't in the lineup. Surprisingly, the stuff you sleepily mumble at 2am is remembered and put to use at your next date. "Remember last week when you said this was your favorite food? Here"
Lives to make you laugh
He's a jokester. Gets joy from seeing you smile because of him. Not gonna lie, the only time he'd ever really get jealous is if someone made you laugh harder than him. Every opportunity he has to make you laugh, he takes it. Has absolutely no shame, nor embarrassment when it comes to what he'll do to make you laugh. Even the tiniest snort does it for him.
"You're the only one for me, gorgeous"
He's not the best at realizing when you're feeling jealous or insecure, but when he does finally pick up on the cues, he's actually really good at. He's the type to shut the situation down by just walking away from whatever is making you feel that way. "Talk to me, pretty. What's wrong?" "There's no one I'd rather tell my corny jokes than you." And when he says that, what else is there to do other than believe him.
Relaxing together
Loves going out on dates with you. But loves relaxing in sweatpants with you even more. The man has a busy schedule, so staying in bed all day and only getting up to shower and eat, and occasionally play a video game while you watch, sounds like a perfect day to you. Will one hundred percent sit you beside him and try to narrate everything that's going on while you share one large blanket.
Somehow always knows what you want to order
I said earlier he knows all your favorite foods, so when you go somewhere and he looks at the menu he automatically knows what you'll get. Orders for an army when he sees there are multiple dishes that you like. "Haechan we can't eat all this" "That's what leftovers are for" Plays a game with himself to see if he can guess what you'll order before you can. You start to pick on the game when he smirking at you from across the table after you tell the waiter your order.
Makes playlists with you in mind
I do not want to be a broken record, but he's obsessed with you. As he should be. You're on his mind twenty-four seven. Hears a song while he’s out and he's immediately reminded you. From love songs to club song he's thinking of you. He's a bit shy when it comes sharing these playlists with you. His favorite thing is naming the playlists. "Because y/n fell down the stairs earlier" "songs that remind me of y/ns bad cooking" and your favorite "when i miss y/n"
#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#nct scenarios#nct fluff#nct dream x reader#nct dream scenarios#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan fluff#as a boyfriend <3#neoturtles#nct 127 scenarios#nct reactions#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff
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Soul Mates: Part Two
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.9k
Summary: A man is accused of rape and kidnapping in another state, so he moved across the country to get away from those allegations. Now, the same thing is happening but this time, it might very well be true.
Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated
x
On the way back to the station, you informed your team there of the news that there is a partner. Spencer immediately goes to work on trying to decode the messages on Will's computer. He's using two different colored markers to determine who said what, but to everyone else, it looks like gibberish.
"Spencer, tell me you found something on his partner," you ask when you walk back into the station.
"It's all so cryptic. They wrote a cluster of others right after the first victim, Kim Groves, was killed."
"We need to figure out how they met. There's gotta be something in all this about their courtship," Derek says.
"It all seemed so hopeless, but I finally learned to rise above it," Spencer reads. "It sounds like William confessed he was feeling incomplete."
"He was. He didn't start killing until he met his soulmate."
"Faith should never be broken." That's another line from the journals. "The longer they got away with it, the stronger their relationship got. Sounds like these two aren't just obsessed with rape and murder. They're addicted to one another."
Jeff and Hotch return back from the crime scene you were at. You were eager to get things moving along which is why you got here before they did.
"We could have saved her," Jeff sighs.
"There were no signs of his having a partner until now."
"I guess that's why he's so cocky."
"Well, his arrogance is typical of a dominant personality. He's found a submissive who's willing to kill for him. We found bite marks on Missy. Will didn't do it, the partner did, and he's white."
"They never did that before," Derek says.
"Well, with William out of the picture, he's changed his behavior. Maybe the partner went back to something that's comfortable, something he's done before. I've got Garcia checking dental records against other cases."
Rossi and Derek walk back to the interrogation room, and you quickly follow them to observe their talk with Will.
"The D. A. was ready to charge him when Missy was still alive. How the hell are we supposed to keep him now?"
"I'm surprised you're writing all this stuff to a fella," Rossi says when they walk inside the room. "It sounds like you have a real special thing going on."
"I mean, I'm thinking if the two of you had just got it on, maybe these women would still be alive," Derek shrugs. "So, where'd you meet him? Chat room? Porn sites? Gay bar? Whoever this guy is, he's looking out for you and cleaning up for you. Missy Dewald is dead."
"Has he called yet? Lee Jarvis, the D.A., I mean. I saw his name on the warrant. He's got the best conviction rate in Florida. Do you know why?"
"I wanna know why your pen pal killed her when he could have let her rot," Rossi glares.
"Jarvis doesn't like to lose. He's not gonna ruin his record over this."
Will refuses to talk about his potential partner thinking the D.A. is going to get him out of this one. However, your team is going to do everything they can to lock this bitch up.
"Wow, this friend of yours wants to please you badly, doesn't he? He's protecting you, doing whatever he's gotta do to make sure that you're innocent. He killed Missy so you could be together again. It's only been a few hours, but he misses you."
"And you've gotten what exactly from all this?" Will asks in a bored tone.
"Proof that someone out there is just as sick as you."
Penelope works her magic and gets results from the bite marks left on Missy. The dental records don't match Will but they do match a reported rape in Manatee County earlier this year. The teeth marks belong to the same person, but they've never been arrested so she can't cross-reference. Connie Mayers is the victim of that rape, so if you're going to have any hope in figuring out who this is, then you have to talk to her.
Emily and Hotch went over to her job as soon as they got that information, but she wasn't too happy about it. No one else knew about what happened to her, but your coworkers did their best to keep it discreet. She works at a flower shop, so Emily bought some flowers as she asks her questions.
Connie's attacker knew what he wanted like he was confident in what he was doing. Connie thought he was a control freak. He wore a mask but she could tell he was shite, proving what you saw using Missy's energy. The partner choked her which took a long time for the bruises to go away. It's not as bad as the bite marks which are just scars now.
"Connie described an anger-excitation rapist just like William," Emily says when she and Hotch return. "We're looking at two dominant personalities."
"It makes sense. They have a similar discourse. They're equally well-written," Spencer says. "It's rare in criminal partnerships. If their personalities are the same, their lives probably mirror one another's as well."
"Harris goes to church, he's on the board of the PTA, he coaches his daughter's soccer team, and he rarely drinks."
"He sounds like a saint," Jordan says.
"With a dark side," Hotch adds. "That's what he connected to in his partner. Prentiss and I will go talk to the family and see if they know who it might be."
Emily and Hotch leave but you stay behind to help Spencer.
"Two alpha males won't be easy to break," Derek says. "The partner is definitely following the investigation."
"Let's do the talking for them," Rossi suggests, holding up a newspaper.
"I think a chatroom might be better. It sounds like they do most of their talking on the computer, but I like where your head's at," you say. "Plus, it's quicker."
"Why would he read it? He knows William won't be writing," Jeff says.
"These men are addicted to each other. Right now, he needs a fix, and the words they've shared are all he has to cling to. His partner wrote 'Faith should never be broken'. A betrayal could devastate him."
"All we have to say is that William's cooperating and then hopes he takes the bait."
Derek and Rossi give you and Spencer some time to come up with something you hope will catch the partner's attention. It's not easy, but you have the journal entries they've already sent to each other. All you have to do is work with the words and language they've already used.
"What have we got so far?" Derek asks after an hour of working.
"We were surprised that you injected yourself into the investigation. You risked a lot in order to help William," you read what you have. "Killing Missy tells us how close you really are. It must be devastating to learn that William is here with us."
Spencer doesn't like what you've come up with in fear the partner will retaliate.
"He's not gonna like that. It sounds like William's cooperating."
"That's exactly what we want him to believe so he'll doubt their alliance."
Derek and Rossi use this information on Will, and you follow them so you can pay close attention to Will. You can talk to Derek and Rossi through the comms just in case you notice something off about Will. After they tell him what they've done, Will just smirks in thought.
"What's that smirk for?
"Sharon is posting bail. I'm thinking about where to go for dinner. Maybe we'll go to Salvatore's."
"Rossi, play it off as if the partner is the alpha male. It might set him off," you say.
"You know, maybe we got it wrong. Maybe they're not both alpha males. The partner made the first move. He's the one with the balls."
"Yeah, and it was pretty risky, too. Think about it. What if you did turn in here? Or at least your partner thought you turned in here, hmm? Then he'd have no choice but to turn himself in. Your lives would be ruined," Derek adds. "That's the reason it works. You both have everything to lose."
"He's only cleaning up because he can't afford to get caught either. Am I right?" William doesn't answer. "How is gonna react to the entry we wrote? He knows we're reading your little love letters, so we decided to send one ourselves and let him know you're in here helping us out."
"He's probably feeling pretty betrayed right about now. If he is, what do you think he's doing about it?"
"William, you wrote, 'Thanks for the perfect place to play'. What were you talking about?"
"Golfing."
"Right. What was it like?"
"Perfect," he smirks.
Will is so confident he isn't going to get caught that he's radiating energy that you can feel from outside the room. The energy is allowing you to see images of Will and his partner with a girl they've kidnapped. The girl is one of the girls who was reported missing and found dead. One of the girls was dead before you even arrived in Florida.
"Rossi, I see him and his partner with one of the three girls who were found dead. Keep him talking. The more he thinks he's getting away with it, the more I can use his energy to see more."
Derek sets out pictures of the three dead women since he heard everything you've said to Rossi. All of the women are happy and smiling as if nothing bad could ever happen to them.
"You probably don't recognize them like this, do you, William? Happy and smiling. All these gifts. All these girls."
"This is someone's child. You know, Missy Dewald was supposed to meet her parents for dinner. She was eighteen years old, an only child, and you just took her away."
"I feel sorry for those parents. I really do," Will says without emotion.
"Do you hear yourself? Not an ounce of sincerity. You just proved you were incapable of empathy just like your partner. William, you never would have done any of this without him, but you just weren't complete, right?"
Spencer walks into the room and hands you some papers. The pages are about the love between William and his partner.
"Rossi, we have something."
Rossi leaves the room while Derek stays inside, and you hand him the papers Spencer gave you.
"It's been so long, my heart aches. I need to see that face again soon," Rossi reads the papers when he walks back inside. "I mean, it's pretty obvious there's an emotional connection between you two, huh? You can't deny that, but this doesn't really sound like two buddies to me. Sounds more like two men in love with each other."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
This strikes a nerve in Will, and this is what you need to get more information from him.
"You're right. I have absolutely no idea what it's like to be in love with another man."
"You know, everyone who goes into law enforcement has this air of moral superiority. For you, it seeps out of every single pore. Black cop in the FBI. You got a big chip on your shoulder with a lot to prove."
"Now who's the one who has no idea what he's talking about?"
"Derek, don't let him rile you up. This is just what he wants," you warn your friend.
"We're not so different, you and I. We choose the games we play because they make us feel powerful. So, what do you have, special agent Morgan? Prove beyond a reasonable doubt that I have broken the law, but don't you sit there with that smug look on your face and judge me, boy."
This pisses Derek off.
"First of all, I am not your boy, and this look on my face is a look of contempt because you disgust me. You and I are nothing alike. When we do find this friend of yours, there isn't a jury out there who won't find you guilty."
Derek leaves the room, allowing Rossi to be alone with him.
x
Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fan fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fan fiction#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds series rewrite#series rewrite#cm season 4#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fan fic#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader
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What would life be like between Richie and Reader after they survive the attack (richie and reader were ghostface) and kill the Carpenters.
hehe this is a part two of this one!!!
“Aaaaand we’re back from that ad read on maybe the most important episode of You Slash Me!” you say, in one of the clearest tones you’d been able to manage in a while. You look at the seat next to you, which Richie should be sitting in; instead he’s currently standing behind it, rolling his shoulder that still seizes up on him sometimes. You’d taken an entire month off from your podcast- hinting at something crazy to come. The listeners ate it up, especially after you posted a picture from a hospital bed in Woodsboro itself, Richie in the background of the selfie. They were all pretty savvy as far as a fanbase went and quickly put the pieces together when the news of a new Woodsboro massacre hit the trending top ten on twitter. Honestly, you would have been doing this earlier, had you not accidentally let Tara Carpenter get a hit in that broke your jaw. You shoot him a warning look as you lean back into the microphone.
“I know you all have questions, trust me, I’ve seen the community tab on Youtube,” you joke, “But I think I need my other half to help me answer all of them. My guest for this episode is Richie Kirsch, the other survivor of the latest in the Woodsboro murders and the reason I live to tell the tale!”
He quickly sucks his head towards his own mic set up, scrambling to sit in frame on cue.
“Thanks, beautiful, but I can’t take all the credit,” Richie aims a weak smile at you, knowing the little camera is set up with the ring light. He plays the part of fellow survivor well, knowing if there wasn’t a camera he’d be dragging you into his lap and beaming like the cat who caught the canary about all of this shit.
“Your film knowledge saved us more than once.”
Filming and recording takes over three hours, fully answering every one of the good faith intended questions that the listeners sent in while making sure it all added up to your alibi. Well, the truth, as far as the police know. Sam and Tara were crazy, a girl with bloodlust in her genes because of her psycho father and an intense influence over her honors student turned killer little sister. Richie was wheeled out of that house with a half slashed throat and a torso that looked like swiss cheese, and you were in a similar state with a broken jaw and a knife to the leg. You and Richie spent over a week in a hospital bed dealing with bedpans and poking and prodding from doctors and detectives alike while you discreetly flirted and gloated. The interruptions didn’t stop the two of you from conspiring even more. Hell, you even started writing the script for this episode while you couldn’t sleep one night in the hospital.
“You gonna come to bed soon?” Richie asks from the doorway, two glasses of red wine in his hand. You nod, jaw in pain from all of the talking you did today as you spin your chair away from your monitor. The podcast will suffer from your battle scars, but it was a small price to pay for an even bigger audience. You hear they’re already working trying to green light a movie based on your harrowing tale. Richie had told you he got an email addressed to the both of you a few days ago, but he refuses to answer until after this episode goes live.
Richie crosses the threshold into the room to hand you one of the glasses, a very fond smile in place of a thank you for him. He places a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing against your lips.
“Sore?”
You nod against his hand.
“Too sore to do a little…” he trails off as he looks up at the lights sheepishly as his tongue pushes out one of his cheeks, and you actually let out an audible laugh at that while you swat away his hand.
“Rich,” you whisper, and he relents, crouching down so he can lean his elbows on your thighs and get close to you while he sips his own wine.
“I know, I know,” he says, half into the wine, “I’m awful, but can you blame me?”
When he gulps his wine the slash on his throat twitches, still ugly and red despite it feeling like you’ve massaged endless amounts of scar cream onto his neck. You sip your wine as well, the sweet table wine Richie picked out because your favorite Malbec still too dry and painful for you to drink easily. Your nose scrunches as you swallow, and you give him an annoyed look.
“Stop looking so glum. We did it,” He sighs, his free arm finding its way around your waist to hug you.
You did do it, fantastically, you think. You bring your free arm around him as well and smile into your wine glass. Once the episode finishes rendering, it goes out to the masses. You’ll be faced with executives, paparazzi, probably a podcast tour, maybe a book deal… all with Richie by your side. And maybe he can make the movie, your movie.
Everything is about to change.
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Welcome back, my lovelies~! We’ve got another story on our hands, and I’m glad to share it with you all. Joining us today is a certain android deity: Ortho! Say hi, Ortho!
[Greetings, everyone! Fauna Taleweaver was so kind to invite me to share a few stories with you all.]
“Eh? Hey, are you really a god? You’re more…metal-y than any of the ones I’ve seen so far.”
[Oh? Why, yes, I am a god. According to my historical records, there have been several deities in the ancient times that wore grant metal armor to war and even in peace. What’s so unusual about the fact that I am made of metal? Even Deuce Spade wears his armor with pride.]
I guess every deity is unique in their own way.
“Hrm…so what’s this story you’re gonna tell us, huh?”
[It’s one of my favorite memories with my big brother and younger sibling.]
Huh?! Wait, Ortho…what do you mean ‘younger sibling’? I thought Idia was your only brother?
[Well, you see Fauna Taleweaver, that was the case…for a long while anyway. But centuries ago, that changed. In fact, I’ve gotten big brother’s permission to share his side of the story!]
“Really? That recluse???”
[Believe it or not, my big brother was the one who put everything into motion, and…he even made me see my duties in a new light and change the way I rehabilitate broken souls! You see…]
WARNING: Implied character death but nothing descriptive; tagged just in case. I wasn't sure what else to tag it under, but please let me know if I need to add another tag and I will do so as soon as I can! Story under a readmore for length, but mostly focusing on the wholesome character growth!
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“Greetings, number 5294831! Your colors are looking brighter by approximately fifteen percent–an improvement compared to last week’s scans. Oh? Number 1574, you’re looking rather dim according to my current data. My brother upgraded my systems and functions just this morning, so let’s see what options are available to assist you.”
Idia watched in silence as Ortho worked, observing the younger deity floating about Limbo as he checked on his wards. Everything seemed to be going according to design–not that he doubted his skills of course. And yet, he couldn’t help but gaze at the vast cavern, a soft frown on his face. ‘There are far more souls here than normal,’ he thought.
Everywhere he looked there were souls, each one in a deplorable condition. Most had arrived in varying shades of gray, some barely clinging to a hint of the once vibrant colors they were meant to have. Some he could see even from afar the cracks in their core, looking like fragile glass ready to shatter at the slightest touch. Others…they were so far faded that he almost missed one that floated by in front of his face.
Lost…fragile…broken…these were the souls that Ortho focused on the most, working around the clock to restore the bright hues they once held. It seemed a Herculean task, for every soul he saved, two arrived in danger of fading away forever. Even though this part of the job wasn’t in his lane, Idia could see how distressed his little brother was to see these souls vanish, too weak to survive…
What in Seven’s name was even going on in the mortal realm that so many souls come to them practically taped and glued together?
Sighing, Idia uttered, “What a drag…being a mortal should be easy mode compared to the nightmare god mode we deities have, even when they’re not fighting lame wars. At least it should be way easier than getting an uber deluxe limited edition Hizu Matsune figure…”
[:...Hi…zu…?:]
“Eep!?” he squeaked, staring at the tiny humanoid shape hiding in the nook near the entrance. “D-Don’t do that!”
The tiny body quickly retreated, huddling into a nook in the stone wall with a whimper. It was then that he realized it was a mortal soul–or rather, a child’s mortal soul. What were they even doing here?! There’s only ever been adult or elderly souls here in Limbo…maybe there has been an uptick in teenagers and young adult souls, but…children??? That shouldn’t happen…
[:...s…orr…y…don…hurt me,:] the little soul whispered quietly, their transparent ‘body’ flickering like a flashlight’s failing battery. [:P…lease…:]
Realizing that they were scared of him, he hesitantly knelt down and–in as calm a voice as he could muster–he spoke softly and said, “I-It’s okay…I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t have to be scared…” Oh Sevens, he wasn’t good with children–well, people in general anyway, but still! Taking a breath, he asked, “How uh…how did you get here? Shouldn’t you be over in the fields of Purga…tory…”
As soon as the words left his mouth it finally sank in the condition of the soul itself: dark cracks creating a spider web effect across its surface, black-violet ooze staining the inner core, and the color…the original color of the soul had all but completely faded from existence. It was impossible to tell what color it originally was, just like the other broken souls.
[:I…don’t…remember,:] the soul said, its voice distorted as they covered their head in their hands. [:It’s dark…and scary…mama…papa…where are you? You…you promised…you would come get me before…:]
“Before…what?” Idia asked, voice quiet.
[:...the monsters…:]
He felt a chill go down his spine at this, though he couldn’t quite place why as he asked, “What monsters?”
[:Monster…the monsters…! They’re coming! The monsters are coming!! AAAAAA-!!!:]
The soul–though it had no lungs–unleashed a haunting wail so shrill that Idia’s blood ran cold and his ears began ringing, forcing him to cover them. Before he could even think of calling for help, a blur of black and blue appeared next to him and a gentle lullaby began to play from the speakers built into his frame. Idia could hear Ortho’s muffled voice as he said, “Please settle down, number 429754. Your core is in critical condition and cannot take much more stress. Please don’t worry–there are no monsters here. You’re safe now.”
Whether it was the music or his words, the ghostly wails died down to quiet whimpers, the corporeal form curled into a tight ball before fading away and leaving behind a faintly glowing glass orb. As Ortho picked up the core and held it close, Idia saw the black-violet ooze spread further and recognized the all too familiar material.
Blot…
“...how did this happen?” Idia asked.
Ortho seemed to hesitate, looking unsure of what to say before looking down. “I found this one in the remains of a small town,” he finally said. “It was overrun by a pack of Soulless Ones. Deuce Spade and Rook Hunt managed to stop them from escaping to the next mortal settlement, but…there were only five survivors out of a roster of three hundred mortals.”
Soulless Ones…mortals whose souls were corrupted by blot, leaving behind a hollow shell of their mortal bodies to become twisted and mangled amalgamations of corruption. These abominations become little more than zombies, seeking out uncorrupted mortals in search of their own lost soul until nothing is left. He’d heard from Azul how the other deities were struggling to contain the spread, but…he never imagined it could ever get this bad.
“How did you manage to save this soul?” he asked. “I thought mortals attacked by those things had an instant-KO?”
“According to my scans of the mortal shell, they possessed DNA from a deity relative–inconclusive if parent or a distant. By my calculations, this was the only thing that kept their soul safe long enough for me to slow the spread of blot. Now, however…their core is unstable.” Though his eyes closed in a smile, Idia could see that it didn’t quite reach the same way it normally would. “Once I take them to the Stardust River for their first cleansing, we may begin tailoring a proper recovery plan to mend the cracks and heal their light.”
“Eh? You haven’t taken them to the river yet?”
“No. My simulation program indicates that a full submersion in its current state would cause unnecessary stress on the soul, accelerating the spread of blot. I’ve been applying drops from the vial that Lilia Vanrouge gifted me to help with mending some of the cracks. Once the soul is sufficiently calm, I will take them to the Stardust River.”
He felt a pang of guilt that refused to leave him be, taking his focus away even from his gaming match later that night. As the God of Death, Idia rarely interfered with the lives of mortals, let alone interacted with them. Yet seeing his younger brother struggle to understand how to soothe such a young soul traumatized by creatures that were never meant to exist…
Then, he remembered the sadness in Ortho’s eyes, the sheer worry in his voice as he gently tended to the fragile soul. With a deep breath, he released it in a nervous sigh and uttered, “Why am I doing this to myself…?” before pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
—----------
“Good morning, number 429754! How are you to…huh? Big brother? What are you doing here?”
Turning to face the small android, Idia crunched down on the snack he’d been munching on and said, “Watching Hizu Matsune music videos before we watch the series Shimmer Heart Sugar Stars. There’s a new season that just released today, and we already finished the first two seasons last night.”
“Huh?” Ortho uttered in confusion, shaking his head in disbelief. “But…you’re never here in Limbo unless I am, and you’ve rarely shown any interest in interacting with mortal souls for very long.”
Idia shrugged and said, “After what happened yesterday, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. So…I figured I’d try something different.”
Looking in the direction that he pointed, he gasped in amazement and said, “You managed to get them back into their corporeal form! How did you-??”
“Well…you said you couldn’t start the recovery plan until they were calm enough to take a dip in the river, right? After everything they’ve been through…I reached out to Lilia for a few cheat codes.”
“Cheat codes?”
“Yeah. Compared to us, he’s boss level in terms of kids and childcare, so he’d know a few strategies to calm one down, right? He said to find something that interests them, so…” With a wide, toothy grin, he gestured to the screen displaying bright and colorful characters singing and dancing together as he said, “After remembering how they reacted when I mentioned Hizu Matsune, I came up with the ultimate gaming strategy! Using top notch music videos and anime shows with the perfect amount of cheerful and sappy cuteness, it’s the perfect plan to calm them and catch up on my backlog, sending them on the path to a visit in the Stardust River! Pretty clever if I do say so myself. Sound good, Shims?”
“Huh? Shims??”
The soul looked up at him, a flash of pink-red light flaring within as they smiled and nodded. [:Can we…watch more, please?:] they asked, pointing to the screen.
“Sure, Shims.” Tapping away at his keyboard, the screen changed to an opening theme song with a peppy beat, the soul swaying and bouncing happily to the music. “We should be done with this season within a few hours if we don’t take breaks.”
Ortho, despite having a mask covering his mouth, looked gobsmacked as he stared at the two. A moment later he shook his head, activating his scanners and examining them closely. “Oh! Readings indicate that the soul’s color’s are showing a twenty percent increase! They’re still faint, but by comparison to the five percent it was yesterday it is still an improvement.” Looking up at Idia, he said, “At this rate…we should be able to take number 429754 to the Stardust River in less than a month! You’re a genius, big brother!”
[:Shims…:]
“Huh?”
[:Shims…my name is Shims,:] the soul said, pointing at the screen again. [:Shimmer…makes me happy. Call me Shims…please?:]
“Oh…of course, Shims!” Giggling, Ortho said, “Perhaps we can find more fun things to help with your recovery plan. And perhaps I can incorporate this method to ensure the recovery of the other souls! May I join?”
“Sure,” Idia said as he and Shims moved over so he could have a seat. “Should we start from the opening again?”
“Yes!”/[:Yes!:]
—--------
Every day afterwards Idia made time to enter Limbo with Ortho with a new series in hand, finding that Shims enjoyed listening to him ramble for hours on end about his favorite shows and games and manga. With each storyline he told and the characters that brought the story to life, he could see the enchantment on their transparent face grow and the color blossoming brighter. There were times he was forced to ease back when the core reacted to the blot, which had slowed its spread yet still remained present. Ortho kept reassuring him that they were making good progress and that the stardust drops were helping, but he couldn’t help but feel anxious each time he saw the pain on their face.
Finally–after what seemed like an eternity–Ortho deemed them ready for the journey. Only…
“It’s okay, Shims. We need to make our way to the Stardust River if we are to begin your recovery program.”
[:No! Don’t want to leave!:]
“But don’t you want to feel better?”
[:Noooo…the monsters are out there! Please don’t leave me!:]
Ortho sighed as he moved back, hovering near the crevice that Shims had hidden themselves in. “What am I going to do with you?” he wondered aloud. “This has never happened before. What protocol should I follow…?”
Idia watched as Ortho pondered over what to do, frowning in concern. Sure, Shims had gotten better at speaking and had come out of their shell more, but now it seemed like they had reverted to their terrified self again. By now the blot had spread farther than it had in the beginning, consuming more than half of their core and ooze starting to seep out. What were they going to do? Even if their soul was part deity, it could only preserve their core for so long before it was consumed…
“Big brother, what are we going to do?” Ortho asked, snapping him out of his thoughts as he noticed how bothered his younger brother was at this situation. “We can’t leave them here for much longer, and we’re running out of time.”
“I…don’t know,” he uttered, looking back at his phone at the messages he’d gotten. “Lilia mentioned that some kids could be stubborn, but he never said what to do in this case. I don’t have a cheat code for this and they don’t want to watch or play anything…”
“...you were able to connect with them, big brother.”
“Eh?”
“You were the one who managed to help heal Shims’ soul core so we could even make it to this point.” Gesturing to the hiding soul, Ortho said, “They might listen to you if you speak to them.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling a surge of anxiety in his chest. It was one thing to chat with them about different characters and storylines, but to try and talk to them about normie stuff?! That was hard enough the first time around! How was he supposed to do this?! He didn’t have time to prepare a strategy or-
[:...big brother…:]
He froze, staring at the soul as they stared up at him. “What…did you call me?” he mumbled.
[:Big brother…:] Shims repeated, looking ready to cry despite not having the capability to do so. [:I don’t want to go…I don’t…want to be alone again…:]
“...you…won’t be alone, Shims.” Crouching down so he was sitting back on his heels, Idia watched them for a moment before he said, “I know you’re scared, but…there’s a whole world of fun things and friends to find back in the mortal realm. Don’t you want to go and see it all again? Discover something new?”
[:But…the monsters…:] Shims’ colors began to dim again, curling into an even tighter ball than he’d seen before. [:The monsters are still out there…what if they find me again?:]
He didn’t know how to respond. ‘I always thought mortals had a permanent easy mode compared to the nightmare levels,’ he thought to himself. Looking up at the souls floating around them, something finally clicked in his mind. “...they might be there, Shims. But…if you keep hiding away, worrying about what kind of crazy scary mobs are out there…you’ll miss out on the chance to build the life you want to live.”
[:Huh…?:]
“I understand now…it doesn’t matter whether you think someone is playing on safe or easy mode–your idea of an easy playthrough may be someone else’s nightmare difficulty. And that’s okay.” Thinking back on the games he introduced to them, he said, “The point of every game is that–no matter how many times you get knocked down–you get up and try again no matter how many times it takes to reach the final boss. The journey would be long and difficult, but you’ll always find companions to help you through each level until you can beat the game and move on to the next campaign. Life may be tough, but–” glancing up at Ortho–who gave him a smile–he said, “with the right NPCs by your side, even the scariest monsters can be defeated.”
Was it his imagination, or had some of the other fragile souls drifted closer…?
[:...I…I’m scared,:] Shims said softly. [:What if…what if I can’t get back up?:]
“Then…Ortho will be there to pick you up.” Holding his hand out to them, he said, “And then when we meet again, we can play games and trade stories–just like we have been doing.” With a genuine smile, he said, “No matter how much of a normie you become, I want to hear how your campaign goes…okay?”
Shims looked from his hand to his face, slowly reaching out to rest their hand into his palm and allowing him to pull them out of their hiding place. Then, in a quiet voice, they asked, [:Will you…come with me, big brother?:]
A warm feeling spread in his chest, and he nodded as he said, “Sure…if you’re okay with having two brothers now.”
The smile on their face grew so wide he couldn’t help but grin back, Ortho happily moving over to hold their free hand in his. “Let’s go,” Ortho said. “The Stardust River awaits!”
////
[...and after the blot was cleansed from their core, we were able to restore their light to the point they could safely be reborn. Due to the nature of their heritage though, not all of their memories were cleared to allow a clean slate.]
Oh no! Were…were they okay?
[Of course, Fauna Taleweaver! In fact, they were able to live very well in several life cycles before choosing to stay with us as a new minor deity. By my calculations, they should find their calling within the next few centuries–I can’t wait!]
“Fynaaah…Faun, are you tryin’ to make me cry with all these stories?!”
Awww, you really are just a softie on the inside, huh, Grim~?
“I’m not soft! S-Stop laughing at your future god!!”
Heehee…anyway, thanks for sharing that story with us, Ortho. Oh, and thank Idia for us too!
[Absolutely! If any of your followers have any further questions about souls or the Underworld, I am happy to oblige!]
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland deity au#twst deity au#idia shroud#ortho shroud#twisted wonderland grim#twst grim#tw // death
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Jimin went to music shows. Yoongi and Hobi went there to support him. Jungkook said he wanted to go to support Jimin right? And Jimin replied that it was too late because he had already filmed the last music show. I wonder, if Jungkook really wanted to see Jimin at music show, why he didn't ask Jimin the schedule like Yoongi and Hobi did? Yoongi and Hobi knew Jimin's schedule. Jungkook "wanted" to support Jimin but, in fact, he didn't ask his schedule! He didn't go. He didn't know when Jimin was filming. And Jungkook should be Jimin's boyfriend? What excuse do you have to justify this
The feisty cats are coming out, huh?
Anon, I do not have any excuses for you because I am not Jikook’s keeper.
I wish that I was their homey though. I wanna kick it with them on their off days. I know we would have an awesome time.
Now what I can do is speculate on this for entertainment purposes. Although I really don’t think anything I say is going to make you feel better.
Anyways, let’s do this.
Prepare yourself for a lazy out of order so-called timeline.
What do we have to work with? Let’s see.
We know JK said he hadn’t been doing much and was enjoying resting sometime after BTS’ group activities ended. He then told us on his 2.27.2023 Weverse Live that he had to leave for work soon. So we know at the very least that he started to weave some work into his life again around this time.
We saw JK visit JM at dance practice in his Bangtan Bomb prior to Face Promotions. Where Jimin, knowing his bae well, told him “Now’s not the time to rest at home”. So we know this visit was during JK’s off time. Sometime prior to 2.27.2023, maybe. But some time after he filmed with CK cause he's wearing their clothes already.
The Weverse live you’re bringing up is from Thank You Live 3.28.2023
Let’s see what else do we have. Oh, PJM #1 Fanboy Live was on 3.27.2023
Wlive with Shows JK is watching
And now we have confirmation that JK has been and is working on his album.
So here is what I’m speculating.
Maybe, JK’s work started to ramp up in preparing for his album and their schedules haven’t been lining up. But man is still out here supporting his bae in Weverse Live as much as he can. Although that doesn’t seem to matter to you. (Or to all the other peeps trying to erase that WLive. I sound like a broken record)
Jungkook "wanted" to support Jimin but, in fact, he didn't ask his schedule! He didn't go. He didn't know when Jimin was filming. And Jungkook should be Jimin's boyfriend? What excuse do you have to justify this -Anon
Now now Anon, there is that pesky word fact again.
I wouldn’t go as far to say JK didn’t ask about Jimin’s schedule. Both you and I have no idea if that is true.
Maybe JK knew of JM’s general schedule but forgot the last performance was that day. Maybe that didn’t come up in conversation the day before. Maybe JK just forgot? Oops. Maybe he just made a mistake in that moment. Maybe he was being playful with JM? And maybe that’s why Jimin was laughing at what JK said.
Look, you’re gonna get tired of hearing this. But I’m always going to talk about my experience because we’re talking about a long-term relationship. I’m in my mid-30s. I’ve been with my husband for 16 years (Married almost 4). We forget things the other person said pretty regularly even things related to work. Do I think my husband isn’t supporting me if he momentarily forgets something? No, unless I’m feeling sensitive that day and I snap back. It happens.
But Jimin didn’t look upset to me. And we have definitely seen a petty Jimin before and he was not present during that Wlive.
Before I wrap this up, I’d like to take this a little further with the speculations because I’m feeling a little spicy and you came feisty with it.
Maybe, with MS coming up, JM and JK thought it would be best for JK to not visit JM at a music show where lots of other people that aren’t a part of BigHit would be? That just maybe, JK actually meant what he said and wanted to go visit but couldn’t because of a reason like this?
I've read in quite a few places that Jikook is considered an "open secret" in SK. Perceived as a couple by those who see them, but no confirmation.
Maybe with MS coming up, they are doing their best to control that perception by not appearing in public together. A previous Anon said something like "Nobody is forcing them to kiss in public..... jimin could go to visit jk like other members"
Can they? Are you sure?
I don't know, I don't know. But Jikook sure knows. They know the weight and level of seriousness that is the political climate in their own country.
I personally want them to be as safe as possible. I love them.
Oh, and I will not dig up receipts on the "open secret" thing. I am interested in Korean culture and language so I seek this info out on my own. If you are interested and care to, I recommend you seek it out as well.
I need to go be responsible and put my notes from JK's last Wlive to good use and do some laundry. 🧺
Baiii.
Clingy Kookie incoming...
Credit to Lights gifs
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CyA (Onewe) | Good luck kiss
fluff | 0.6k
He keeps fiddling with his fingers, trying his hardest not to mess with his outfit or his hair. You know it’s a big day for Giuk, and you wish you could do more than just be by his side. Sliding your hand between his, you give him a reassuring smile and peck his cheek when he returns it. It’s new and nerve-wracking, you have no idea what you’d do if you were in his situation, which is all the more reason you worry for him so much.
“You’re gonna do great,” you say, and you feel like a broken record but you just don’t know how to reassure him. He doesn’t seem to care, fortunately.
“Thank you,” he sighs, and this time he lowers his voice and talks to you some more. You can only guess your boyfriend can’t handle the nerves anymore. “Do you really think I can do it?”
“Of course you can!” you tell him quickly, squeezing your hand between both of yours, “You’ve done this plenty of times before, you’ll be amazing.”
“I’ve never done it alone though, the hyungs were always with me,” he worries, his eyes scanning over the small room you’re waiting in. It feels huge without the other boys around, and it's so quiet.
“I know,” you sympathize, “But you’re their pride, aren't you? And you’re not gonna be there all alone. It’ll be fun - maybe you’ll make some new friends too.”
He nods, letting his head hang low for a second before turning back to you with a small smile. Now it’s his hands that are squeezing yours and he leans his head on your shoulder.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispers, “I know I said you didn’t need to but I’m really glad you did.”
“I had a feeling you would be,” you chuckle, “And you don’t need to thank me. Of course I want to support you. Even if I can’t do much.”
He shakes his head, fingers playing with yours idly on his knee. You let him drum his fingers over your palm, compare his hand to yours only to sneakily intertwine your fingers before moving again. He must be doing his best not to pace around the room, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this anxious.
“You being here is enough,” he reassures, “And talking to me, even if I don’t have much to say right now.”
“Please, I’ve been repeating the same things for like an hour,” you scoff, making him chuckle.
“It’s cute,” he smiles, “And I know you mean it.”
Silence settles over you again, interrupted only by the sounds out in the hallway. Until finally, there’s a knock and it’s time for your boyfriend to go. Giuk stands up immediately, forgetting to let go of your hands and so you’re pulled up with him. He gives you a sheepish look.
“Go now, you got this, baby,” you repeat again and pull him in for a quick hug. He doesn’t want to let go, lingering with his arms around your waist. It’s cute, but he needs to go.
You squeeze his shoulder and run your hand to his jaw, making him lean closer to you until your lips gently brush together. You don’t have time for more than one lingering kiss, but it brings the spark back into his eyes anyway.
“I believe in you. You’ll do well,” you murmur, “Don’t be too nervous, it’ll be alright.”
He nods, pecking your lips one more time before he’s off to do the show. There’s still the nervous feeling in his stomach and uncertainty clouding his mind, but knowing he has you with him, and that you’ll be waiting for him brings a pep to his step.
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Hey - sorry if this is weirdly personal (on my end, that is!) but I’m a nonbinary trans masc individual. I’m an adult, I work and pay rent and get exhausted with property management companies when they won’t fix my broken heating system. I came out to my mother when I was 12-13 - although since I wasn’t online and didn’t have many friends who were either I didn’t know about the term nonbinary - and told her I ‘didn’t feel like I was a girl.’
I’m wanting to come out. Getting mis gendered everyday sucks, not being seen sucks and so much is outside my realm of control that this one little thing, to tell people ‘Actually I’m not a woman at all, here’s my pronouns and name thanks’ is the dream. It’s something I can conceivably do! Except I feel old. I feel old and on top of that I feel like I would lose a lot of my connections both personally and professionally. My unofficial job is doing video game and animation voice acting. The only people to whom I’m out irl are my cousin and one of the animators I work with. They’re lovely but they’re only two people. Lately my problems with gender have increased exponentially and the only gender therapist in my COUNTY said ‘Yes young women tend to distance themselves from their womanhood when they’ve been mistreated by men’ (I’m paraphrasing but I also don’t wanna be triggering, if you understand). And she wouldn’t help me. I don’t know what to do or if I should do anything at all! Technically I know there’s no wrong age to come out, but it feels like the more years I stay in the closet the harder it’s gonna be when I do - and I really want to, it’s chewing me up. I’m scared, I suppose, especially since I don’t “look” nonbinary/trans masc (according to my image issues and quite a few younger people I’ve met in the community who say I’ve got it easy since nobody knows I’m trans). I don’t know, I’m already rambling on enough. Do you have any advice, anything at all? I’ll take it. If not, totally get it, it’s a long winded message.
Either way, have a lovely evening and enjoy yourself. Cheers!
damn dude... i get a lot of messages like this and they really speak to me, because i was once a closeted transmasc nonbinary person from a very small rural area (the town i was born in/the towns i lived in afterward were all around 1,000 people in terms of population) itching and trying so hard to come out but not knowing where to start or what to do
i wanted to say that i'm very sorry that it's so hard for you to come out, especially considering that your job involves your voice. that must be so difficult. i was trying to get into voice acting before i transitioned and people were trying so hard to get me to record lines before i started T and it was causing so much dysphoria. i understand how hard that must be
this might sound really weird, but hear me out. if you aren't sure if you can socially transition, if you're not comfortable coming out to a group of friends or family or whatever yet, come out to yourself. whenever you're alone, do gender affirming things. do things in your spare time that allow you to be who you are. come out to any online friends that you have and be yourself with them, too, and be aggressive about using the correct name, identity and pronouns. i know coming out online isn't the same, but it helps when you are very adamant with it.
become comfortable with being your real self first. then you can show the people in your life who you really are. it'll be easier if you're confident when you come out. coming out as nonbinary is never easy, but if you have a good footing in who you are, and are referring to yourself by the correct name, pronouns, and presenting how you like, it'll be easy to imprint that on to others with confidence
i'd say try to find ANY queer peers in your area that you can. ANY within your age range, try to see if you can find a gay/straight, pride, or lgbt alliance, or see if there is a transgender resource center, or other transgender center. colleges will usually have some type of queer pride group and queer resources. if you are of the appropriate age, you can try to see if there are trans and drag events at local gay bars and work your way up from there. you may even have to reach out to neighboring bigger cities or even other states. i ended up moving across the country before i could have access to hormones and whatnot, to a much bigger city with a larger population.
my heart goes out to you, i hope you're able to find a way to transition that's comfortable and safe for you, that allows you to do what you need to do to achieve your happiness. if you need to take a break from your current line of work, i support that, but i also support not wanting to. you do need to do what's right for you in the end, whatever that means. i hope you can be a happier version of you, and let the world know who you are safely, and at a pace that works for you and your situation. take care, stay safe, hope to hear from you again!
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whiskey chapter uhhhhh 36
His first mission with the IMC goes horribly. He can’t say he’s all that surprised, given his track record so far in life. It’s still unknown to him and everyone else how he made it through basic training. But he did, and here he is--should he feel some sort of excitement, here? His first injury out on the field. Taube’s first screw-up of many, he supposes.
His dominant arm is cradled against his chest and he can feel blood oozing onto the fabric of his gear from the bullet wound. He can also feel the sharp, grinding pain of broken bone-ends grinding against each other.
The feeling of eyes digging into him keeps him decidedly glaring into the floor. He refuses to meet anyone’s eyes, not even the medic’s as he’s tinkered with. Another IMC grunt stands guard at the door. While it feels like their gaze is more empathic and concerned, he resolutely ignores them as well. He doesn’t need to be pitied. If anything, he needs to be taught a lesson.
“Is he gonna be okay?” the guard at the door asks. Of course they’d be “concerned” about his well-being. If he were to be out of the field for too long, it would be another body out of work that could be instead helping the IMC with its work.
And, really, that’s all he’s good for at this point.
“He’s fine,” the doctor says bluntly, digging a piece of shrapnel out of Taube’s bicep and making him wince. “He’ll recover. This is far from the more serious injuries I’ve dealt with, and it’s also one of the dumber ones.”
He feels his face heat under the passive assault. He can tangibly feel his brows furrowing together further as he glares harder at the floor.
“It was a mistake,” the guard counters. “Everyone makes mistakes, doc.”
“Not everyone gets injured by their shitty mistakes, soldier.” Out of the corner of his eye, Taube sees the medic look directly at the guard and dare him to speak further.
“I mean, I’m sure I have at the very least.” He swears he hears a hint of teasing in the words. “Heaven knows you’ve had to stitch me back together from stupider things.”
“Which is precisely why it needs to be wrung out of a person.” He feels a harsh jolt on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah.” His eyes fall to the side. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t lie to my face. I’m not an idiot.” The medic’s voice is harsh again. “With the way you’re acting, I’ll be expecting another visit very soon.” He pushes the little stool he’s stooped over back and away from Taube, rising to his feet. “Both of you. Get out. Don’t come back.”
Meekly, he takes the medic’s words to heart. He rises silently, arm now wrapped in gauze and medical tape and stuck at a crooked angle, approaching the door. He desperately hopes the guard won’t speak to him on his way back to his bunk.
“Don’t take anything that guy said too seriously,” the guard says as soon as the door is shut behind them. Taube bites down a groan and keeps walking. Unfortunately, the guard is able to keep up with him. “Everyone here is a hardass. They take it competitively, it feels like.”
Taube doesn’t respond, focusing on his footsteps as they make their way through the halls.
“You’re new, right?” The guard continues to chitter. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. ‘Course, that doesn’t really say much in terms of things. This place would hire damn near anyone if it meant they’d do what they asked.”
Surprise jolts through him. Why is this guy so openly speaking against the corporation that not-so-subtly made people that did so disappear without notice? “You’re stupid for saying that,” he mutters over his shoulder.
“This whole place is stupid,” the guard chuckles. “The higher-ups get a little too pissy when someone doesn’t kiss their boots the right way.” The guard bumps Taube’s shoulders with his own. “Plus, it’s only frowned upon if you get caught doing it.”
“It’s still stupid.”
“And why is that?”
“I mean, this place took us in, gave us jobs and shelter and all that. Why trash it?”
“‘Why trash it?’” the other echoes, seemingly stunned. “Have you heard of the shit this corporation does to get what it wants? War crimes upon war crimes, stacked on top of even more war crimes. The only reason people don’t speak out about it is because another war crime will be committed to keep them silent.”
“You really feel that way?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”
“So, why stay?”
“Taube, you think they’ll let me go if I defect? You think they’re just gonna let someone rumored to talk about the shitty side of things with his cohorts get away out into the world to keep jabbering?”
A pause. “No, not really.”
“That’s why I’m still here.” He hears the other man heave a sigh that sounds entirely too weary for someone his age. The guard is suddenly right next to him, crowding into his space respectively, but still close. “Always thought about it, though. Getting the hell out of here would be paradise.”
“Even as a whistleblower?”
“Even as a whistleblower. Not gonna waste my freedom knowing there’s awful things going on that I could do something about. They wouldn't be able to keep me shut down, even if the public begged me to shut up.”
Finally, he meets the man’s eyes. “That’s very noble. Stupid as hell, but noble.”
“It’s not about being noble,” the guard waves a hand dismissively. “It’s about doing the right thing.”
“Of course.” They pause outside Taube’s bunk, awkwardly hanging before the door. “Well, this is my stop.” Before he turns away, he adds, “Thank you for the company. You didn’t have to. But it was nice.”
“Nobody has to do anything if they really don’t want to. Just might end up dead with certain things.” The guard winks at him, then holds out a hand. “MacAllan. James MacAllan.”
Awkwardly, Taube reaches out with his left hand. “Robert Taube.”
“Nice to meet you. You’ll stay low about my ranting, will you? Just made a good friend, wouldn’t want him to get lonely without me being there because the officials caught wind.” A smile splits his face, honest and genuine.
“What ranting?” Taube smirks back at him. “All I heard was us talking about the glory of this place.”
MacAllan snorts and claps a hand on Taube’s good shoulder.”Good man.”
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A voice memo recorded on Sunday, July 31, 2022, at 22:43 Eastern time:
I'm driving back from the Rage Against the Machine concert. Run the Jewels opened. The PNC arena, July 31, 2022. And honestly… it was like no experience I've ever had in my life. An entire arena of 20,000 people—which, by the way, I think we raised $280,000 for charity based on our tickets tonight?—but 20,000 people all just….just expressing their primal feelings and untying a, a knot that has been tightening their. Whole. Lives.
But a knot that’s been made tenser by the pandemic and income inequality and racism and Trump and crypto and climate change and Joe Rogan and just…everything. This…anxious gravity that pulls you down and makes it impossible to go through the day without feeling broken or incomplete. It was a community of 20,000 people who let the band lead us to untie that know and just scream and let it out. And…just a purge of all this pent up emotion. And the person in front of me was smoking weed. The person next to me was smoking weed. The person on the other side of me waited until Rage came on to smoke weed. No one cared.
Most of the people there looked like they were based off of 1 of 6 versions of a generic 35-52 year-old video game starter character. I saw at least 11 versions of my multiverse self and the only reason I didn't stop and make everyone take a picture was because I wore a mask all night.
The mosh pit was stocked with your typical early 20s shovemuscle, but also with Gen X men with huge white beards, clearly upset that they didn't die in crowdbattle the last time Rage toured, and now they're treating the mosh pit like it's their only ticket to Valhalla. Just the, just the biggest, like, sysadmins and car wash techs and cybersecurity consultants, dudes who just got into the trance and became Whirling Dervishes of Gen X trauma and healpunched their childhood with anger. It was just the most beautiful thing. And the mosh pit was even chill, if that’s possible? They all knew when to fight and punch and push and when to just circle like it's Shark Week. I've never seen anything like it and I never will again.
Look, we all have jobs, or school or a family or just loneliness to return to tomorrow. And we know that this primal scream against inequality and oppression and fascism, racism and sexism and Christian fascism, terrorism and anti immigration and just…and just all that hate. We know that shouting our lungs out along with this band we've loved for 25 years. We're not going to solve that tonight. And we're probably not going to solve it tomorrow. We're not going to take this energy we have and turn it into a political revolution.
We're probably just gonna go back to our lives tomorrow, but maybe some part of us has changed so that when an opportunity to act and make a difference arises, we will instead of thinking it's too much effort or worrying about what other people will say. And I think that was the spark. It's not like the spark of revolution. It's not, you know, what's his baguette, Gavroche i think? From Les Mis. It’s not that spark.
Instead, it's the spark of revolution that says, I'm not alone in the way I feel.
And I think the show tonight inspired a lot of people to that. And I think other people just felt ok for the span of an hour and a half of a Rage Against the Machine concert.
They just felt…free. They just felt free from every single ratchet strap that ties them down in the system they have to live in. They know the straps weren't cut tonight—the ratchets are still there. But for 90 unyielding minutes that band…loosened. It….you could move around a bit. And breathe. And watching 20,000 people experience that same feeling in the same moment? Look, I'll earn that money back, but I'm never gonna have that chance again. I'm so glad I was there.
#ratm#rage against the machine#i took so much video and i hate that about me#also yes guy fieri was in the crowd and they showed him on the big screen
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TASK 04: PLAYLIST.
listen to the full playlist here.
NO SAVE POINT - RUN THE JEWELS. wiser men than us been crushed to fine dust. when the fortune cookie tell me i'm fucked, i just shrug. a note like a broken electrical pulse hum. for the done, for the scum of the circuitry on the run. haven't seen thе sun with the naked eyе much. so the neon is my god and it shine on the numb. hop off of the bike, gun cocked, okay, ready. work ain't been too steady, i'm headed for something heavy. if you got the credits, i'll pull the crime of the century.
HUMAN - ANAVAE. i want to skin you alive. i want to wear your flesh like a costume. i want to skin you alive. i want to be, i want to be human.
FIGHT LIKE A GIRL - ZOLITA. i will sleep when i'm dead. a revolution's waking up in my head. you wanna listen what a real girl said. it's a woman's world. boy i'll stop you right there. keep tryna shake me but i really don't care. you wanna listen what a real girl said? it's a woman's world. ain't nobody tell me what to do what to do no. you know i've been breaking all the rules, all the rules oh. man i really feel like a woman though. man i really feel like a woman. i got a lot to say. no time to play, ay, i'm coming for ya. i'll be standing tall. while i watch you fall, ay, you know. i'm coming for ya. if you didn't know i fight like a girl, fight like a girl.
WHAT'S UP DANGER - BLACKWAY FT BLACK CAVIAR. 'cause i like high chances that i might lose. i like it all on the edge just like you, ayy. i like tall buildings so i can leap off of 'em. i go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is. i'm insane but on my toes. i could keep the world balanced on my nose. i had a slumber party wit' all my foes. now i wear them like a badge of honor on my clothes. if i'm crazy, i'm on my own. if i'm waitin', it's on my throne. if i sound lazy, just ignore my tone. 'cause i'm always gonna answer when you call my phone. / don-don't be a stranger. what's up, danger?
LIPPY - XOXOMYAH. you can’t censor this. i’m not cautious. and i don’t fuck around. with them bitches, they switching. wishing, they were someone different. they heard that i visit. but i live it. i’ve always been a misfit. always getting into shit. but i’m finna make it. i get into trouble, i know it. follows me everywhere i go.
MOSH PIT - COOK THUGLESS. off-white, punch drunk, dumb lit. i'mma turn this party to a mosh pit. off course, jump shit, dumb lit. i'mma turn this party to a mosh pit.
NIGHTMARE - SCARLET CITY FT. ANXXIETY. i, i keep a record of the wreckage of my life. i gotta recognize the weapon in my mind. they talk shit, but i love it every time. and i realize. i've tasted blood and it is sweet. i've had the rug pulled beneath my feet. i've trusted lies and trusted men. broke down and put myself back together again. stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters. collected the pieces and picked out a daggеr. i've pinched my skin in between my two fingеrs. and wished i could cut some parts off with some scissors. "come on, little lady, give us a smile". no, i ain't got nothin' to smile about. i got no one to smile for, i've waited a while for a moment to say i don't owe you a goddamn thing.
IDEAS - AU/RA. bite your tongue. don't you know how wild these thoughts will run? / don't put ideas in my head. because the deeper they get, the more i like it.
22s - KOKO FT. NINA CHUBA & DILLISTONE. huntin' a good vibe at the baddest times. i'd kick the bucket just to see the other side. screw your rules, i roll the dice a hundred times. make a deal to give me snake eyes. i'm happy with a room-temp vodka. never ever really needed ice. i'm there for the rush, don't stop me. i want dopamine, no price tags. i'm best under pressure. a walkin' dilemma. my answer, "whatever," don't care 'bout the question. i do this forever and ever. / sorry it's too much for you, catchin' all my twenty-twos. i'm dynamite, i fuck up your glass house. ain't no matter what i do, keep on catchin' twenty-twos. i'm one hundred percent what you don't want.
POWER - J.POLLOCK FT. SVRCINA. when you think i’m losing it i might be. does it look like i don’t know what i’m doing? just maybe i stumbled upon the magic. found me in all the tragic. when you think i’m losing it. crawling out of my head. getting back in my body. gonna do what i want and i won’t say sorry. gonna take up space. gonna claim what i make. cause this is where i find my power.
DESPICABLE - GRANDSON. one day you will understand why i pushed you away as i ran. and you will find a better man than i am. trust, i'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor. despicable, i'm just a bottom feeder. i'm despicable, i ain't never been a keeper. i'm despicable, love her then i leave her. and if i were you, i wouldn't love me neither. said if i were you, i wouldn't love me neither.
BULLETPROOF - LA ROUX. burning bridges shore to shore. i break away from something more. / been there, done that, messed around. i'm having fun, don't put me down. been there, done that, messed around. i'm having fun, don't put me down. / this time, baby, i'll be bulletproof.
TAKE YOU DOWN - SHYLOOM FT. FJORA. do you feel my fire growing fast? it'll be the last thing. it'll be the last. there is something in the dark. there is something here. big sharpened teeth. there is something going on. make you wish you never looked at me.
MY WAY - PVRIS. if there's a war, i'm gonna conquer it. don't give a fuck about a consequence. if i'm on the edge, i'm going over it. spin around, russian roulette. razor-sharp teeth, i bite bullets. i don't hesitate, just take, take, take the risk. / my sweat, my blood, my pain. my, my, my way. my fear, my fire, my flame.
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Daniel Kusner visits Thanks-Giving Square at noon while listening to St. Vincent’s “ New York ,” admiring how perfectly the song blends with the bells above the Ring of Truth.
St. Vincent would rather be in Dallas
Annie Clark — a.k.a. singer-guitarist St. Vincent — has lived in L.A. and New York City for most of her adult life.
But she still loves to wax nostalgic about growing up as a music nerd in Lake Highlands, going to rock shows in Deep Ellum and haunting records stores all around Dallas.
“I spent all my allowance at CD World on Greenville, that’s for sure,” she says with a laugh. “I’m in Los Angeles right now, but I wish I were in Dallas is the truth of it.”
Clark’s been coast-hopping lately while “doing press for this bad boy,” as she calls All Born Screaming, her seventh solo album since she debuted in 2007.
The album is out Friday.
One listen and you’ll hear why she yearns for the comfort of her extended Dallas family.
All Born Screaming is the sound of an artist teetering on the edge of chaos as she thinks about life, death and a dozen shades of terror in between.
In Clark’s typically witty fashion, she’s dubbed it “post-plague pop.”
It’s her darkest album yet, but also one of her best, defined as always by her uniquely St. Vincent blend of styles.
She’s an old-school torch singer with an avant-garde heart and a music historian’s brain, inspired by everyone from Billie Holiday to Jimi Hendrix to Nirvana (whose drummer, Dave Grohl, guest-stars on “Broken Man” and “Flea”).
"All Born Screaming" is St. Vincent's darkest album yet, but it also ranks as one of her best, defined by a unique blend of styles.(Nasty Little Man)
Clearly, she didn’t spend all that time at CD World just sifting through the Backstreet Boys bin.
When Clark was 13, the jazz duo Tuck & Patti, who happen to be her uncle and aunt, sat her down and asked her to listen to John Coltrane’s masterpiece A Love Supreme.
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“I started crying,” she told me in ‘07. “Hearing something like that, at that age, was mind-blowing.”
Today, her jazz-minded songs are probably too off-kilter for most Taylor Swift fans.
But against all odds, Clark racked up her first No. 1 pop hit as a songwriter last fall when Swift’s “Cruel Summer” spent a month atop the Billboard charts, four years after Swift first released it.
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Clark co-wrote the tune with Swift and their mutual producer Jack Antonoff.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Clark, 41, says. “It’s a testament to how dedicated Taylor’s fans are. They took a song from a few records back that wasn’t even a single at the time and said ‘No, we love this song. This is the hit.’ And they marched it up the charts by just sheer enthusiasm.”
My conversation with Clark has been edited for clarity:
All your albums have been different, both musically and lyrically. What were you aiming for on All Born Screaming?
I wanted to make something that felt as raw and human as possible. It’s a record that goes from “Life is impossible … ” and then the second half is “but we get to live it and it’s really short, so buckle up and let’s go. We don’t have any time to waste.”
This is the first album you’ve produced totally alone. What were the pros and cons of that?
The pros are that it’s really an exact rendering of the sounds in my head. This is my singular vision. The cons are that it takes a lot longer. It’s a more painful process because it requires a long look in the mirror, which is not always the most comfortable thing to do. There’s nobody else in the room who’s gonna pat you on the head and say, “Great job, let’s move on.” It requires a reckoning with yourself.
There are lots of great retro-sounding synthesizers on the album, played by you and others. What drew you to these old synths?
Analog synthesizers have such a soul to them. You’re moving electricity through unique circuitry, and I know that doesn’t sound necessarily like the sexiest, most human thing, but you’re like a god of lightning. These analog synths are inherently chaotic. It’s like, “I’m gonna take these beasts and find the parts that are the most alive, and manipulate some of that chaos into music.” When you get something that’s really exciting, it’s more of a victory.
Several tunes have an industrial rock feel and recall Nine Inch Nails. I noticed the word “nail” in the lyrics of multiple songs. Have I found your Easter eggs? Or am I reading too much into that?
No! Read however you want to read it. I love Nine Inch Nails. You can put The Downward Spiral next to anything out there today and it will hold up as relevant and exciting. That’s the kind of record I’m ultimately trying to make, stuff you’ll wanna listen to in 30 years and go, “Oh yeah … this is good. It has a level of excellence and craft and refinement and obsessive attention to detail.”
“Violent Times” has a memorable phrase that, in a sense, sums up the whole album for me: “The ashes of Pompeii lovers, discovered in an embrace for all eternity.” When did you first see that image from Pompeii?
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I was in New Zealand and had a day off and that exhibit was going around, so I walked over to the exhibit and was just struck by that image.
“OK, doom is imminent. You can flee, or you can just hold one another one last time.”
And I just thought it was so deeply romantic.
So much of modern existence, and certainly existence on the internet, is designed to commodify our brain space and pit neighbor against neighbor, and it’s just, well, frankly, it’s a drag.
Love is all we have, and I don’t mean that in a “Kumbaya” corny way. I mean, life will bring you to your knees, no matter who you are. And the only thing we really have is the people we love.
A lot of songs on the new album — and throughout your career — have a scary, almost cinematic quality to them. Did you grow up loving horror films or scary books?
No. Not at all. I detest horror and violence and gore. I can’t watch it. But as far as going to musically dark places, I think that’s the miraculous thing about music. To misquote Brian Eno, “Art is the car you can crash over and over again and then walk away safely.” [Music] is the place I get to go to explore my internal violence and my everything — ego, desire, all of it. I’m a child of the ‘90s, in the sense that the anthems of my heroes were “I’m a creep/I’m a loser.” They were exploring the baseness and basement of their psyches, and that’s always resonated with me.
“Big Time Nothing” sounds like a companion piece to 2020′s The Nowhere Inn, your mockumentary-thriller about fame and how it affects an artist’s sanity.
[Songwriting for me] is always like, “OK, tune into the depression and anxiety frequencies in your head, write down those thoughts, and what do they tell you?” I’ve had to learn how to manage and quiet [those frequencies] as I’ve grown. All the songs on this album are very lived experiences, dealing with life and death and love. In records past, I certainly was dealing with the idea of persona and deconstructing persona. And you know, that makes a lot of sense in that I’m queer. I’ve been aware that gender was a performance since I was a child. So of course, playing with characters is … it’s all just, you know, ripe for exploration. On this record, however, I’m just not dealing with character or transformation in the same way. I’ve heard people say, “OK, so Broken Man is your take on toxic masculinity.” I’m like, “No. That’s just how I feel.” Sometimes, it’s not external cultural commentary. It’s, like, life.
Congratulations on your first number one single for co-writing Taylor Swift’s “Cruel Summer.” Hypothetically, how would you handle performing for 60,000 people in football stadiums every night like Swift does?
My brain immediately went to “Oh. I’d really need to spend a lot of money on production.” But that’s the very pragmatic part of me. Um, that would be amazing. I don’t see that necessarily happening and I feel really OK with that. I like to say I have the “free appetizer level” of fame, you know, where occasionally you [meet a restaurant worker] who’s a big fan and you get that shrimp cocktail. But I don’t have an unmanageable level of fame. I can walk down the street anywhere and be fine and not need security. I can just exist in the world in a relatively normal way. The way I got to my level of success was a sort of slow and steady climb up the mountain, without big peaks and valleys.
When we spoke at the start of your career, you said that joining the Polyphonic Spree after struggling to launch your career was “literally redemption in a robe.” What did you learn in your two years with the Spree in the mid-2000s?
I loved it. I had the time of my life. Some of my fondest memories of touring were those early, early days of just not knowing what in the world I was doing, getting up on stage every night and putting on this wild manic show with these exuberant songs. I [learned how to be] a Texas freak, right? And I say “freak” with all the love and admiration in the world. If you’re a Texas freak, you had to earn it. You had to walk through fire. There’s some real grit to the Texas freaks. Like, those are my people, you know?
A few years ago, the news site Central Track posted a bunch of yearbook photos of you from Lake Highlands High School, where you were super active in performing groups. Did you already know back then you wanted a career onstage?
I was very obsessed with theater. I’d go see a lot of local productions at Kitchen Dog Theater and I was a stage manager over at Kitchen Dog. I loved it, but I was really scared to get up onstage with my high school band, or be in a play. But I also knew I had to do it. Even though that performative tension was very, very nerve-wracking, I was compelled to do it. Dallas public education really just lit a fire and a love for theater, you know?
You’ve acted in Portlandia and other places, and you co-wrote The Nowhere Inn. Would you like to do more acting and filmmaking?
I would drop everything if a director I really adored, like Pedro Almodovar, said, “I’m dying to have you in my next film.” I would happily act or be a performer in someone else’s work, depending on the project, because you go in, you do your work and you walk away. A director of a film, like, that’s three years of your life on one thing. I just don’t have the bandwidth to direct a film. But what I do as a musician, for this record, let’s just say, is akin to writing, starring in and directing your own film. Directing? I already do that in music. Directing a film would take me away from things I’m actually good at.
You started playing guitar at 12, before the internet became huge. Do you think the internet and YouTube opened the doors for more diversity among guitarists? Are there more female lead guitarists today than when you began?
There totally are. I see so many young women playing guitar and it’s not treated as some sort of novelty. It’s like, “Yeah, duh! Of course I play guitar.” It’s so cool to see the shift. I mean, I had Riot Grrrl. But for the most part, there weren’t that many female guitar players in the mass culture.
I’m a measured optimist. I don’t believe that everything is getting worse. Certain things in life are definitely worse than they were a hundred years ago, and a lot of things are a whole lot better. We wouldn’t be having this conversation 80 years ago about me having a career as an artist like this. Women didn’t get to do things like this. So I think it’s only getting better in terms of more women playing, more women just feeling empowered and saying, “I’m gonna pick up whatever [instrument] I want to and play.” There’s way less stigma and eyebrow-raising than there was when I started, you know? That’s great. I think that is genuine progress.
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Not trying to undermine your experience at all but Amber Heard never said that. Audio was edited and illegally leaked and mis subtitled. She was talking about how she was in fear for her life earlier and how she thought he was going to kill her earlier in the tape. She never said no one would believe you because you're a man she said "man" as an interjection. Like man, it sucks. Not like you, a man you suck. I can come off anon and talk if you'd prefer but his sick team of lawyers twisted the story for years and even got kicked from the case for doing this.
To be honest I don’t know why people are still so pressed about this situation? Like everyone was team amber when she released her op ed but then we got more evidence from the other side and were like oh ok this is more complicated but now there are people still out here saying that amber had no part in the abuse and I’m just like broski as an abuse survivor I promise you she hurt him. Like I know what that looks like, I’ve lived it.
Obviously I’m never gonna be like you were or weren’t abused but the tape paired with her actions was just major oh you’re covering up your abuse and hoping that pulling the battered woman card will help
Sometimes when I explain that to people they’re like omg you’re just a Johnny depp stan and I’m over here having seen the second pirates of the Caribbean movie one singular time. Not even the first one. The second one. I don’t care for Johnny depp nor his acting. He’s not in Star Trek or Stargate therefore he is of little consequence to me.
It was definitely a complicated thing for me especially given my trauma around substance abuse. I’m not on either side, I just happen to be more against amber because of what she said, her lackluster evidence (the two identical photos, her appearance on the tonight show where she supposedly had a broken nose and two black eyes but clearly didn’t), and how she acted.
We will never truly know who was in the right in that situation as we were not there. To be honest with you maybe they’re both abusers and they were going around in circles. Who knows! Not me.
As for deceptive editing, I’m fairly certain that’s illegal. Didn’t they sit through the entire recording each time? I’m fairly certain I remember someone asking why they couldn’t just cut down the tapes. Maybe in just naive but it would be awfully bold to do something illegal in court.
That’s via wkipedia by the way I accidentally cut off the url
I don’t know why people care so much. The only reason I’m thrown off by the people still loudly supporting amber heard in the present day is the fact that every single interaction I’ve had with those people has involved being told my trauma isn’t real because women can’t be abusers. Like at face value I don’t care who you support in a conflict between two millionaires that happened two years ago, I only care about the underlying sentiment. It’s sort of like the difference between “this one singular person of color did bad things” and “this person of color did bad things and that gives me the right to send death threats to all of them” (yes I was sent death threats and told to kill myself when I talked about being sexually abused by a girl)
Sometimes the idea itself isn’t bad but the connotations are. There are a lot of connotations to saying I support amber heard in 2023 and I’m not here for them.
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