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yandere-sins · 1 year

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Happy Valentine’s, my Love

a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;

Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.

When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too.

But you were wrong.

You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.

Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.

So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…

He forgot.

Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care.

There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could.

Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.

He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return.

You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.

Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you.

"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."

Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger.

"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him.

"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."

Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?"

Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him.

"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."

Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."

You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."

Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…

Hesitated.

A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you.

Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself.

"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile.

"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward."

Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.

"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."

Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"

Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile.

Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?

"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder.

"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."

Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.

"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface.

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"

His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"

"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."

"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words.

Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."

"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."

He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.

"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."

Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in.

"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake.

You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this.

Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you.

And you believed him.

"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.

"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Hey Eve how are you doing I hope you're having a good day. Could you possibly if you want to make a fic like after the disownment fic and there's an interview with Sirius, Remus or (or the lions) on how they felt and there reactions and stuff only if you want to ofc I hope you are having a good day

This isn't a social media fic, but it does include include this prompt and was combined with an ask for Sirius having a hard time in the wake of a breakdown because he was doing so well before. Please pay attention to the TWs and let me know if I missed any. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW child abuse (past), angst, past trauma, mentions of going to therapy, and feeling overwhelmed

The studio cameras hadn’t seemed scary in a long, long time. Sirius stared at the white floor, toying with his ring and trying not to run screaming from the building; this is for them, he reminded himself. For everyone like me who never had someone speak up for them. The metal folding chair was cold under him.

“Sirius?” There was no hint of teasing in Marlene’s voice. “Are you ready?”

He had already saved himself and Regulus. Now it was time for the rest of them. “Oui.”

“Rolling in three, two, one…”

“My name is Sirius Black,” he said, channeling all the strength and control he could manage into his voice as he straightened up. “I’m 27 years old, the center and captain for the Gryffindor Lions hockey team, and a Stanley Cup champion.” He took a breath. “And I grew up in an abusive home. Last week, my biological parents officially disowned me for refusing to go back into the closet and under their control. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no media present. There was a lot of paperwork.

“But I’m not here to talk about that.” He swallowed, and felt some of his confidence return. Behind the camera, Marlene gave him an encouraging look with a shine in her eyes. “I’m here to talk to everyone else in my situation and let you know that you’re not alone. You can get out of there, and you can be the freest version of yourself. For the next month, 1/12 of all proceeds from Lions tickets will go to charities supporting abuse survivors and those currently living in abusive situations. My story is not the only one. We can make a difference.”

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

Sirius laid on his back on the lobby couch, letting “Radio Gaga” thump in his ears and drown out the tremors in his body. He had never said it publicly before—as far as the rest of the hockey world knew, his family was only rumored to be strict. He had been hesitant to do the video at first despite the tsunami of questions flooding their social media, and it wasn’t until Marlene suggested the charity aspect that he agreed.

Sirius didn’t like press. He liked it even less when it was poking around in his past, and when he had to support it.

The song ended and he paused the music, listening to his own breathing and steady pulse. You’re okay. You’re done. You made it through. He didn’t feel okay.

“—proud of him,” someone was saying inside the studio. Remus. “It was a complicated and painful thing to work through, but he never wavered from what he wanted and what was best for him.”

Six of his other teammates would speak, supporting the charity with a quick mention of their own feelings in case any assholes on the internet got bright ideas about speaking for them and their feelings on Sirius’ disownment. It was insane what people thought they found by digging through interviews.

“Hey, baby.” Sirius opened his eyes; above him, Remus was leaning over the armrest of the couch with a tired smile. He kissed Sirius’ forehead, then his nose, then his lips. “Ready to go home?”

“Don’t we have to stay until the end?”

“Marlene said she had everything she needed from us.”

Sirius blew out a slow breath and stood, wrapping his arms around Remus on instinct. “This feels like it’s going to go badly.”

“I don’t think it will,” Remus said quietly, rubbing up and down his spine. “I think it’s going to help a lot of people, and I hope it means we stop getting nosy comments now that you’ve answered the big questions and made it clear that’s the end.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They walked to the car in relative silence, hand-in-hand; Remus took the keys without a word, and relief washed over Sirius in a cool breeze. He didn’t feel grounded enough to drive safely. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he ever would. The whole world was hazy outside the passenger window, blurring the city he loved so much into smudges of colors—Remus was a presence next to him, but what Sirius wanted more than anything was some hot chocolate and a long, long nap.

“I don’t feel good,” he said, hardly above a whisper.

Remus glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he drove. “Do I need to pull over?”

“No, I just…” He sighed. “I thought I would feel better after getting this off my chest and helping people. I feel bad.”

“Can you eat?” He nodded. “I’ll make some soup when we get home if you want to lay down for a bit.”

Sirius’ eyes burned. “Sounds good.”

“Hey, baby, it’s okay,” Remus soothed, reaching one hand down to close around the one Sirius kept on his thigh as Sirius sniffled and shook with the effort of keeping in his tears. “It’s okay. You can call Marlene and ask her not to publish the video. That’s in your rights, you don’t have to—”

“No,” Sirius choked out, wiping his tears away with the back of his wrist. “It has to happen. People have to know that they can help. I—I just—I don’t know how to feel and so everything is happening at once.”

Nobody had taught Sirius how to handle Feelings-with-a-capital-f until Dumo; suddenly, he felt like all that hard work was being undone in one fell swoop. He kept ahold of Remus’ hand and let the tears slide down his cheeks as he breathed through it, keeping both feet firmly planted in some semblance of control. Remus parked the car and turned to him without unbuckling his seatbelt. “Do you want to go inside, or should we drive for a bit?”

“I really want to go to bed.”

“How can I help?” Remus laced their fingers together again and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “You really don’t seem alright, love.”

“I’m not, and I don’t know how to fix it.” The words were broken glass in his throat. “I was doing so good. I don’t know how to go back.”

“Oh, baby,” Remus murmured, taking his seatbelt off to kiss Sirius’ temple. “Let’s go inside, yeah? You’ll be more comfortable there.”

Sirius nodded mutely, still pressing his lips together to stifle any sounds that tried to come out. It always seemed like when he started to cry, he couldn’t stop—whether that was a function of never crying for the majority of his life, he didn’t know, but it always felt horrible. No mistakes, his mother had told him. The video felt like a mistake. Still, he knew he couldn’t ask them to take it down. There were people that needed help, and he couldn’t let his childhood hide in the shadows anymore.

Remus turned as if to hug him when the door closed behind them, but Sirius slipped past and headed straight for the stairs. Sweatpants, hoodie, soup, blanket, talk. Talk, talk, talk until you can’t stop. Then sleep. He heard Remus moving around in the kitchen as he stripped down and dug his softest sweatpants out of the drawer, followed by Remus’ most worn-down and oversized Wisconsin hoodie that he always wore when he didn’t feel well. Sirius buried his nose in the neckline and inhaled deeply; the familiar scent soothed the rush of blood in his ears.

He didn’t bother with socks and made a beeline for the couch, wrapping himself in the afghan blanket one of Hope’s friends had crocheted for their wedding. Hope had kept it in the Lupin house so she wouldn’t forget to bring it with her, and it smelled like them, too. It smelled like safety and a happy house and healthy childhoods.

Another tear slipped out when Remus set down some water and the soup—Campbell’s chicken noodle, can’t go wrong—and Sirius curled up against the armrest to make room. “I need to talk to you,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

The cushions dipped as Remus sat next to him and crossed his legs. “About what?”

“Everything.” His voice broke. “The way I grew up, everything about it. I—Re, I never lied to you, I promise. I just didn’t talk about it because I didn’t want to scare you, but I have to be honest with you.”

“…alright.”

Sirius took a shaky breath; his mouth was dry, and salty at the edges. “My parents—my parents hit me when I wasn’t good enough, and nothing was ever good enough unless I could do it again, and again, and again—”

“Sirius—”

“—and I thought everyone on my team didn’t get dinner if they didn’t get a goal and—”

“Stop—”

“—and Regulus and I, it was like we couldn’t breathe in that house with them scripting every move—”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand covered his mouth and Sirius closed his eyes as a sob ripped free, but didn’t fight it. “Sirius, stop, please.”

“I have to tell you,” he said hoarsely, trembling from head to toe. “I have to be honest with you.”

“I love you, and I’m glad you can talk to me, but I’m not the person you have to tell.” Remus’ voice was thick with tears. “Being honest with me doesn’t mean telling me every detail, please, please don’t do that.”

“I couldn’t make mistakes,” he blubbered, leaning into Remus. “What kind of fucking freak tells a child they can’t make mistakes?”

Remus shushed him softly, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as he went boneless into Remus’ chest. He could feel the hitching breaths under his face and regret reared up, but he felt so empty. There was so much more he could tell Remus and nothing he could say. “I love you,” Remus began, sniffling slightly. “I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I love you, I’m going to tell you that I am not the person you need to tell all this to right now. You should talk to someone who knows how to help, like Heather.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered.

“No, I understand.” A kiss pressed against the top of his head. “And I’m not upset at you. Both our emotions are running really high. I just—this isn’t blaming you or to make you feel bad, but it hurts to hear all the horrible things that happened to you. I already wish I could have stopped it before it happened, but hearing you say it is a lot worse than thinking about it and I wasn’t ready to hear everything.”

“That’s not everything.”

“I know.” Remus’ voice cracked. “I know, and that’s the worst part. This video was a bad idea, I should call—”

“No, no, don’t do that.” Sirius caught his wrist as he reached for the phone. “The video isn’t the problem. It will help people. It’s just hard for me to talk about it without getting overwhelmed.”

Remus hesitated, but left the phone alone and hugged Sirius close again. “I’m here.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not gonna leave.” His chest rose and fell. “But—but if you need to tell me things, not just today, please give me fair warning first.”

“I will,” Sirius promised. They sat quietly for a moment before he sat up and pulled the soup bowl into his lap, letting the steam roll over his face. “Mon dieu, I was doing so good before this. It’s been the best two years and now…”

“Now it’s going to be better,” Remus filled in when he trailed off. A slender hand tucked his hair behind his ear. “It’s going to be better, Sirius. For you, and for lots of other people that you’re helping. But this is the hard part.”

“This is the really, really hard part,” he agreed, taking a sip of broth. It was the perfect temperature. “Thank you.”

“It’s just soup.”

“No, for everything. Everything you’ve done for me.” he rested his head on Remus’ shoulder, then left a lingering kiss on his cheek. “I love you more than I can say.”

A wry smile tilted the side of Remus’ mouth up. “In English or French?”

“Both,” Sirius half-laughed. “Both, I promise. I’m going to finish this, and then can we take a nap?”

“That sounds perfect. Make sure to drink your water, too.”

It would not be an easy evening, or an easy night, or an easy anything when the video came out. But he would work through it, and he would remember what he had learned from his family and his friends to move past the roadblocks his childhood always created. He would call Regulus, they would cry together, and they would be okay. He would be okay.

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #marlene mckinnon #vaincre #sweater weather #my fic #fanfic #interview #lumosinlove #disownment #child abuse #overwhelmed #hurt/ comfort #angst

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akabane-yum · 3 years

Text

OTP Asks - All Of Them (9-16) <- Part One

For @toorumochi assass :P

For the Angst

9. Have they made each other cry?

Short answer: Yes

Long answer:

Karma knew that Gakushuu would be a difficult person to live with and that he was sensitive despite his hard exterior, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get annoyed too sometimes.

That night they were arguing about who knows what, saying things they didn’t mean, when the insults became half truths and eventually full truths that became insults. Karma said something along the lines of “Oh, and it’s not my fault your dad didn’t raise you right but it your fault that you’re becoming exactly like him, don’t ask me why I’ll need therapy more than twice a week after this.”

If it hadn’t already clicked to Gakushuu that they were fighting fighting before then, now he got the message. He ran out of the room without another word and Karma had to pace to cool down. Karma decided to sleep on the couch that night and only realized Shuu went off crying the next morning, when the air was cold and rigid and Shuu had tear stains under his eyes. Karma didn’t say anything though, he didn’t really know how to fix it. They ended up spending that whole day apart and eventually had a long talk.

———————

Gakushuu made Karma cry when he told him they’d probably end up breaking up. Karma was joking about meeting Shuu’s mom and Shuu just laughed saying he didn’t think they’d make it that far. That messed with Karma’s perception of permanence and what he thought they were. He thought they were gonna get married some day and that they were going to live together and... what? He tried to ask Gakushuu why he thought they wouldn’t make it and Shuu seemed unbothered. He said something about how they were incompatible in many ways and how they were both handfuls and how life would get harder and how Karma probably wouldn’t be able to handle all the weird changes in Gakushuu’s life because of how the businesses was booming. They said goodnight after that and Karma found himself outside at 3am taking a walk. He didn’t realize he was crying till he came home and Shuu asked him why he was crying. His first instinct was to say he was doing drugs but that would get them nowhere. Instead he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and they went to bed. He could think about permanence another day. And he did, they talked about both that and their insecurities going forward to try to salvage their relationship. (I can imagine that this is a few years into their relationship.)

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

In another post !

11. What causes them to fight?

The lighthearted answer would be: anything and everything. They fight over how many pillows they need but always laugh about it in the end.

Another answer would be: the fact that at the beginning of their relationship they were insecure about themselves. You know you really shouldn’t get into a relationship until you love yourself enough, at least in most cases. But for them I’m guessing that the mutual attraction was enough for them to get together, which isn’t always bad b u t for them they had a lot to unpack. It’s surprising and maybe even kinda toxic that they stayed together after the first part of their relationship but now they’re happy. I can imagine that they’re happier as adults at least, and that they still do fight over small things like the TV volume but those fights don’t even count as fights. It’s just a little conversation to keep them going yknow?

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

Kinda? Gakushuu is a businessman and probably took a course called “creating capitalism” so we can assume he’s pro capitalism, and on the other hand Karma joined the bureaucracy in Japan (and Japan is, if I’m not mistaken, a socialist country) so he’s probably at least pro socialism.

I just want to comment on how this is cool because Gakushuu being pro capitalism is a solo player as the CEO with the most shares of his corporation. Whereas Karma who we assume is pro socialism works as a bureaucrat for the government. Which is cool because capitalism is more about individuals climbing the corporate ladder and whatnot whereas socialism is more of a government intervention thing where the government has control and places limitations. (There’s way more to it but I tried to badly summarize.) So they’re both doing very well in their respective economies. That being said, we could go into the capitalist tendencies in Japan but we won’t! AHEM THE MAIN QUESTION WAS ABOUT POLITICS BUT I WARPED IT SORRY THEYRE PROBABLY BOTH MORE LIBERAL BUT I WONT GO INTO THAT.

Anyways to finish off explaining the “kinda” I answered with, I said kinda because I don’t think they feel strongly enough about their own (preferred) economies to argue about it. Though maybe Karma will complain about some of the disparity in wealth he sees between Gakushuu and others but honestly I don’t see them caring much, since they have the luxury of living in their own bubble of karushuu happy fun. I hope this blurb made sense.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person

Gakushuu would never give up his ambitions to be with Karma. Sounds sad but after letting go of some of those insecurities that were there at first, he’s found his self worth and won’t give up all his hard work for anyone. Is that selfish? Personally I don’t think so, because it would be selfish for someone to ask him to let go of his dreams for them. Karma would never do that anyway, so. By give up his ambitions for Karma I mean like if Karma were to ask Gakushuu to drop his work or him, he’d be dropping Karma.

Karma would never settle down entirely because Gakushuu asked him to. This is similar to the first one but I don’t think he wants to calm down and live in another tropical country and retire young just because they have enough money you know? Not like Gakushuu would ever ask him to slow down but if he did then Karma would still probably work a few jobs because of how boring life would be without something to do. This is basically like Gakushuu’s but I feel like Karma’s is less intense and he wouldn’t break up with Gakushuu right away because of this.

Take that as you will ^^

14. What would be a dealbreaker

This is the same as the last one I think. Telling the other to slow down and pick between their passions (for work lmao) or them. Since it’s the same ish for both of them I don’t think there would be that much of an issue though. Maybe if Karma killed Shuu’s cat then that would be a dealbreaker, who knows.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

Karma dislikes how Gakushuu is a workaholic and Gakushuu hates how Karma is taller than him :P also how quick he is at making impulsive decisions. HmMm maybe also how Karma snores- that’s not even a trait i- anywayyyyssss

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other.

Oh boy. I’ve thought about this for not karushuu things too so here’s my take on this:

Karma would consider Gakushuu as an addition to the toxic people in his life. First his parents, then some of his teachers, and now his first boyfriend. He’d remember the happy moments they had together but quickly try to replace them with the sadder memories. He’d try his best to paint Gakushuu is the worst lighting, he’d villainize (not a word but shh) him so he could go on thinking he didn’t do anything wrong and it was Gakuhsuu’s toxicness that tore them apart.

Gakushuu wouldn’t think of Karma. Not after a bit of time, not because Karma never came to mind again after the breakup, but because any thoughts of Karma would be illegal. Honestly I can see him thinking that his time with Karma was an era of weakness. He can’t go back to that weak state, not even in his memories, so he doesn’t. (Well maybe in the middle of the night some days he does but he’d never admit to that.) I hope my grammar here was bearable lmao.

I’m sorry I’m tired lmao I can’t proofread but yk :))) next part up soon!

#asano gakushuu #assassination classroom #karushuu #karma akabane #karma x gakushuu #shoe #akabane karma #otp #ask otp #angst #breakup #headcanon #otp headcanons #asks #yoit #anyways

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aliciameade · 3 years

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Hey you're super knowledgeable about Broadway stuff, so I have an ask if you don't mind :) Mean Girls on BW is closing. Lot of theatre news sites are saying this is "due to the pandemic shutdown". I'm just a little confused as to how the shutdown could close a hit show that would probably still sell lots of tickets when things reopen. Are shows still having to pay rent on the theatres or something?

Hello!

I’ve done nothing but discuss this five days a week every week since March 2020 because my entire job is working with Broadway shows getting ready to / trying to plan to return to performances. I was going to have this be a top-level view but I think it’s necessary to understand just how the gears of Broadway work to answer this question. So I encourage you to read.

Shows cost money to run each week (when Broadway is running). For argument’s sake, let’s estimate Mean Girls’ weekly cost is about $750,000.

To be profitable, they have to bring in MORE THAN $750,000 per week in ticket sales long enough to make up the millions of dollars it cost to create the show, called “capitalization.” So, if they made $1,000,000 per week in ticket sales and it cost $750,000 to operate, they were paying off their capitalization, basically debt back to the producers who gave money to make the show happen, at a rate of $250,000 per week. I don’t know what their capitalization was, but it was probably at least $15 million. It would take FIVE YEARS to pay that back.

Mean Girls paid their capitalization back, called “recouping,” in about three years, which is pretty good! For what it’s worth, roughly 80% of shows NEVER recoup and are considered financial failures. They were able to pay it back more quickly because their ticket sales were so strong, north of $1,000,000/week for a long time, say, basically 2.5 of the 3 years it ran on Broadway.

In the last six months or so before the shutdown in March 2020, the shows sales had been slipping. Tickets were discounted heavily to almost every performance and it wasn’t finding renewed life. This means ticket revenue went down, down, down until, as of March 9, 2020, it made $775,000 of the possible $1,100,000 they could make if they sold every seat at full price. You said it sold “lots” of tickets, but they were only selling about 65% of what they could (in March 2020).

That doesn’t seem like a big difference, but if the running cost is $750,000 (it is perhaps higher), that means the profit is only $25,000 per week.

Once a show starts to barely break even, and eventually lose money just by performing, producers decide it’s time to close the show because it’s no longer profitable, and the entire reason producers want to make money on Broadway shows is so they can reinvest it into more new Broadway shows.

Then, to compound things, NO Broadway show has what is called an “advance,” which are future ticket sales, basically a piggy bank of money they know they’ll have to be able to spend on more performances. This is a huge challenge for even the most successful shows who recouped decades ago (think: The Phantom of the Opera, The Lion King, and Wicked). Every show has a huge financial burden to overcome to reopen because they immediately have NOTHING in savings to pay the cast, crew, theater, etc. So, producers will have to invest new money, and then it has to be repaid, etc. Shows like Phantom and Wicked will survive because of who the producers are and the guaranteed selling power, as the shows were heavily sold year-round for a decade (or three, in Phantom’s case). Shows like Frozen and Mean Girls, which were already on the decline before the pandemic, just don’t have the momentum to restart from zero.

Not to mention, the nature of Broadway theater is to pack 1,100 people into a tiny room with zero room to breathe, charge $300 per seat in order to pay the people who make the show a living wage, and BARELY turn a profit. The reality in our COVID world is that it is not financially smart to try to run a Broadway show with things like social distancing, because you cannot afford to put on a show that costs $750,000 per week when you can only sell 400 seats for $120,000 per week (if you can even get 400 people to pay $300 for a ticket after the economic stress of the past year). They’d be losing $630,000 per week indefinitely. That’s financial lunacy for ANYONE to do that, without majorly deep pockets and a guaranteed path out of debt.

So, if that was tl;dr: it wasn’t making enough money and is too big a hill to climb when things reopen. It’s very likely other shows will also not return, and as sad as that is, I promise you there are that many more NEW shows waiting for their turn. There are only 41 Broadway theaters, so some must close to allow new ones in (if Groundhog Day hadn’t closed, Mean Girls wouldn’t have been able to happen!). All closures are bittersweet because we love these shows, and we hate to see people lose their jobs, etc., but it is, to quote Disney’s The Lion King on Broadway, the circle of life.

I hope this helps!

p.s. Yes, I believe shows are having to pay rent, and with forced shutdowns by the city, they were, I believe, able to collect insurance payments to help with this but it varies based on their insurance policies, etc etc etc.

#broadway #mean girls #Anonymous

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stellar-lune · 3 years

Text

*KOTLC incorrect quotes*

Anyways, a long list of incorrect KOTLC quotes, feel free to use these for anything if ya want!

Glimmer: Arson? Oh, you mean "crime brûlée".

Fitz: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Fitz: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

Keefe, holding up his class notes: And then this doodle of a burrito because when I first read Aristotle, I thought it was pronounced like “Chipotle”.

Marella, in shock: Wait a minute, is it “Chip-o-tottle”?

Sophie: I wasn't hurt that badly. Elwin said all my bleeding was internal, that's where the blood's supposed to be!

Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent.

Marella: I choose to waive that right!

Marella: *screaming*

Brant (whoops sorry bout this one): Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don’t answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Sophie: I would never say that my best friend is a bitch and I don’t like her. That’s not true… Biana is a bitch and I like her very much!

Lex, Bex, Rex: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Keefe on Tuesday: *glues a dime to the sidewalk* Heh heh heh.

Keefe on Wednesday: *walking down the street* Ooh hey! A dime!

Forkman, to the squad: And remember, if I get harsh with you it is only because you’re doing it all wrong.

Keefe, tearing up the room: Where are they?

Keefe, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children?

Keefe: Somebody moved my E.L. Fudges, and now I am going to run away again.

Tam: Your existence is confusing.

Keefe: How so?

Tam: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Sophie: I have one foot in the grave but in a kind of fun flirty way, the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

Linh: I've never encountered a problem that can't be solved by an spontaneous musical number.

Dex: Dracula had it right, sleep all day, live alone in a castle, and explode into bats to get out of all social situations.

Sophie: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Sophie, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Dex, to Stina: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

Sophie: My life isn't as glamourous as my wanted poster makes it look.

Dex: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one, Wonderboy.

Marella: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Fitz: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

*out grocery shopping*

Linh: *takes a free sample twice*

Linh: Robbery and fraud. I am a Rebel (TM) .

Sophie: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices.

Sophie: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Sophie: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Tam: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...

Dex: So, according to my university, it is, quote, “my responsibility if there is an internet outage to contact the faculty and the department.”

Dex: Now, if you’re a critical thinker like me, you might be wondering one thing.

Dex: HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO EMAIL THE DEPARTMENT?!?!?!

Tam: Hey, what’s the name of the other guy who lives with Tiergan?

Linh: His cats' names are Walter and Rose.

Tam: That's not what I asked.

Linh: That is all the information I have.

Keefe: Ro, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Ro: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

(alternatively, Alden)

Linh: Ayo, what the FUCK is this?!?

Tam, sitting down, surrounded by corpses: I won Mafia, that’s what.

Marella: I'd roast you, but my mom says you can't burn trash.

Marella: *slow-mo walks out of the room*

Biana: I'm gonna get my piolet's license. I've already got a driver's license and a cosmetology license, that's two of the big five licenses.

Fitz: The big five licenses?

Biana: Driver's license, cosmetology license, pilot's license, fishing license, and… license to kill! I can't wait to get that one.

Dex: You are irrationally angry 365 days a year.

Fitz: Well, that’s just your personal opinion, I don’t have anger issues. Biana, do you think I have anger issues?

Biana: Well, I wouldn’t really call it an issue. An issue is something you can fix.

Keefe: So how’s the food Sophie made?

Fitz: It's great! Compliments to her.

Keefe: *goes to the kitchen*

Keefe: You're adorable.

Sophie: *blushes*

Biana: And now for a gay update with Linh and Marella.

Marella: Getting gayer.

Biana: Thank you, Marella.

Sophie: Hey, do you know the password to Keefe’s computer?

Biana: I love you, Sophie.

Sophie: Aww, that’s so swe—

Biana: No, you misunderstood, the password is "iloveyouSophie".

Sophie: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Fitz: Hey, Biana, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?

Biana: Yeah.

Fitz: And you, Tam?

Tam: Umm... yes?

Fitz: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!

Biana: Did he just-

Sophie: Do you cook?

Biana: I made a cake once.

Fitz: Yeah, it was good.

Biana: Really?

Fitz: Don’t make me lie twice, Biana.

Dex: Nice rock.

Keefe: Thanks, Tam gave it to me.

Tam: I threw it at you!

Keefe: Isn’t he the sweetest?

Juline: I just had a long talk with the triplets about hitting and now they are yelling “it’s my turn to perpetuate the cycle of violence” before hitting each other.

Sophie: I made you all playlists!

Sophie: Tam, yours has only heavy metal and punk, and is dark like your soul.

Sophie: Keefe, yours has sad songs and blues to pair with your crippling depression.

Sophie: And Biana has the ABBA Gold album.

Fitz: A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.

Biana: An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.

Dex: A realist sees a freight train.

Tam: The train driver sees three idiots standing on train tracks.

Mr. Forkle: For self defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Biana, Keefe, & Sophie: Okay.

Mr. Forkle: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.

Biana: Bold of you to assume I have money.

Keefe: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.

Sophie: Bold of you to assume I can die.

Sophie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Keefe: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Dex: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Marella: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Biana: What’s it like being tall?

Marella: Is it nice?

Sophie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Fitz: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Stina: You have friends and I envy that.

Marella: You're welcome to share my friends.

Stina: *looks at Dex and Sophie*

Stina: I don't want those.

Della: Tommorrow's garbage day.

Fitz: I can't believe you made a whole day dedicated to Alvar.

Linh: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.

Tam: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.

Linh: Th-that's not how that works-

Marella: Do you want to know your gay name?

Linh: My... my gay name?

Marella: Yeah, it's your first name-

Linh: Haha. Very funny Marella-

Marella: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Linh: Oh- oh my god.

Glimmer: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

The Black Swan: Those are wanted posters!

Biana: Are you mad?

Tam: No.

Biana: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Keefe: Astrology is fun because i can pretend that all of my behaviors are just a result of being a Gemini and not symptoms of mental illness.

Biana: Being a Gemini is a mental illness. That’s not hate it’s just a fact.

Biana: *on the phone* Hey Fitz, do you know my blood type?

Fitz: Of course, it's A+.

Biana: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

Fitz, to Sophie: Are you ready to commit?

Sophie: Like, a crime or a relationship?

Literally Anyone: Hey, aren’t you Sophie Foster?

Sophie: You a Councillor?

Literally Anyone: No.

Sophie: Then yes, I am.

Sophie: I typed "bitch" into my GPS and guess what? I'm in your driveway.

Stina:

Sophie: Vroom vroom, come out already.

Stina: I’m gay—

Sophie: Not what I meant, but cool.

Keefe: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset?

Sophie: No, I said "Keefe, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Mr. Forkle: I’m not so sure you’re stakeout material.

Sophie: I’m a chronic insomniac, I was born for this.

Juline: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Marella: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Marella: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Biana: Maybe the true treasure was friendship all along. But I hope not, because I can’t spend friendship on new clothes

Dex: Do you want to play 20 Questions?

Fitz: Sure!

Fitz: Whats your favorite color?

Dex, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

#kotlc shitpost #kotlc incorrect quotes #kotlc memes #kotlc sophie #kotlc dex #kotlc fitz #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #kotlc biana #kotlc tam #kotlc glimmer #kotlc black swan #kotlc neverseen

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pandoratheprocrasticreator · 3 years

Text

I listened to the TAZ Grad finale!

Fellas is it gay to become imbued with the essence of the sea after influence from your water genasi teammate, pester said teammate afterwards to name a boat after you, and sail away with them into the sunset to run a cruise line scam and become morally righteous pirates?

Ive been looking at people’s reactions on the finale and yeah I loved the chaos magic parts! The whole issue with the mishandling of D&D mechanics was never really a problem with me, although I know some people feel more strongly about that than I do.

Personally, I’ve always listened to TAZ for the story and not the actual D&D so I never really took issue with any of the DM-ing mistakes Travis did. Parts of the actual story had problems (the centaurs, Ranier, other points where Travis tried to be inclusive but implemented it where it wasn’t relevant) but overall I think the enjoyable parts far outweighed the bad.

And the McElroys in general are funny as hell so even though Grad wasn’t as profound as Balance or as sad as Amnesty I still enjoyed it a lot! I would probably put Grad above Amnesty but below Balance, but of course Balance holds a special place in my heart.

A problem people had with the finale that I didn’t notice while listening was that of all their talk of “destroying capitalism,” the trio settled down to comply with capitalist society at the end. And while I do agree that the “this system is bad but let’s slowly make change from within” message has been done to death, I don’t think that the ending was necessarily performative and disingenuous on the McElroy’s part.

The first point is that even though the trio decided to participate in Nua’s society in stereotypically “exploitative” careers, (particularly in Fitzroy and Firbolg/Gary’s case) they did so explicitly to keep people from being exploited by the system. Not to mention their paths fit their character arcs pretty well.

Fitzroy’s “who will protect the weak from the strong” speech doesn’t indicate a sleazy lawyer willing to exploit the law to make a quick buck. One person described him as one of those pro-bono lawyers and I agree with that comparison. Fitzroy is a morally good person at his core, and he initially thought the hero society would help him do good, and after becoming disillusioned with hero society, he decided to carve out his own system to allow him to do good, both by being a lawyer and by being a pirate that only attacks rich assholes. (I really like that he clarified he would only attack rich assholes my chaotic good lawyer boi <3)

Firbolg’s whole character arc of being conscientious of resources to help the community instead of hoarding things to himself, in my opinion, culminates neatly with his decision of becoming a financial advisor. He has learned that both the “share all your resources without regard for the future” ideals of the Firlbolg and the “hoard all your resources for your own benefit” ideal of Nua’s society are both flawed extremes, and has dedicated his career to helping communities find a balance between the two.

Argo’s cruise seems more of a small business to me than a capitalistic venture, but I have never taken an econ class in my life so I digress. His character arc was about finding something to live for other than the past and I think it’s a good conclusion to his arc that he commemorates his mother and friends with the cruise line but still seeks out his own future outside of that by becoming a pirate. His original plan was to go with the establishment and work with one of the most powerful heroes in the world until he gets revenge, so it’s nice to see him grow to find his own self sustaining outside of the establishment.

The second point is that TAZ Grad was never about destroying capitalism. That was a joke that Travis laid the foundation to, but it was the players who made that joke and rolled with it. Tumblr user @fitzroythecreator wrote a really good analysis of how the main theme of Grad was self reliance which I agree with. While that is one of the main themes, I will be focusing on the theme of capitalism that a lot of people tend to focus on.

The characters’ goal was to destroy the HOG, which was an allegory for how organizations function under capitalism, but never a direct parallel with capitalism as an ideology or functional system itself.

When they first joked about “ending capitalism” by blowing up the HOG I was concerned because that’s not how anything works. The HOG was just one cog (heh) in the capitalist machine that was Nua’s society, and while destroying it would cause significant damage and change, it wouldn’t immediately shift everyone’s worldviews to discard their capitalist society as a whole. If the boys carried out the mission and all of a sudden the whole world was fixed, it would be even more disingenuous to present a utopian solution to a pressing, real world problem that simply cannot be solved this way.

I’m glad that they didn’t end capitalism. Social issues like this can never realistically be resolved by three spunky heroes on an adventure. You would need action from an entire population. Often violent action. There were already issues with too many NPCs in the spotlight so describing and entire population’s uprising would have exacerbated the problems even more. As four white men, the McElroys neither had the answers for how to end capitalism, nor would their medium of a D&D podcast have allowed them to present them effectively.

From my perspective, the way they would have actually ended capitalism was to go to war like Chaos and Order wanted. In this case, the entire social order and way of life for Nua would have been overturned. The main characters, Fitzroy most vocally, reject this option because of the human toll (or elves, or dwarves...whatever the term for that is for D&D races). Instead, they disturb the system to expose its flaws and let society recognize said flaws in the background. (Again, they couldn’t focus too much on it as it would take away from focus on the main characters.) Then, they choose to find their own place in the system and fix it from within.

I’m not surprised that the McElroys would pick the “change the flawed system from within” route over the “use continuous and possibly violent action to force rapid social change” route in the end. While the second stance could work if written correctly, there’s a lot more room for the message conveyed to be catastrophically bad if the writing doesn’t work. I’m personally glad that the McElroys, who don’t have a solution, presented the tamer first take instead of trying to give a solution with the second take and failing spectacularly.

TAZ: Grad was social commentary on the problems of late stage capitalistic society, but it never tries to present a clear answer on how to end this society. Rather, it recognizes that this is a problem that can’t be solved by one small group of people. It presents several possible solutions to navigate this society to bring yourself happiness within this soul crushing system while slowly changing the attitude of the society. After all, if everyone quietly changed societal attitudes for the better, then perhaps one day the population will be united enough to bring about the drastic social change that we all hope for.

#taz: graduation #taz grad #fitzroy maplecourt #argo keene #taz firbolg #SHUT UP JESSICA #this is the kind of analysis i do with media when im bored #except none of my friends that i share my bad takes with know about taz grad so #its your problem now

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sasa-gay-yo · 3 years

Text

Just Us (Chapter Seven: Calculating)

← Chapter Six

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“So… um, it’s the Spring Equinox and all. We usually do something. You know, you, me, some friends; like we always do. Are you… are you going to come this year?” I turned to Jonas who was leaning on a box of flour. How could he so easily forget moments like that? He confessed to me and then the next day seemed to completely forget. Months later when it seemed he had an in, he didn’t even go for it. Talk about being uncompetitive.

“Will there be as much drinking as there was last year?” It was monotone and I glanced over to the corner spot. Garrison. Last year, the girl Jonas was interested in and I had to drag back him and his three friends from outside Wall Sina and they slept on the floor of the bakery while I offered her my couch. During the process of wrestling them inside, Jonas had somehow stripped naked and his friends were trying to follow suit. I try to keep that memory suppressed.

“Probably yeah. You know the spring wine is the best… but you’re still kinda sic-” I nodded and help up my hand to stop his excuses.

“You’ll probably have to drag me home this year. I’m in.” He smiled, but it was bittersweet, knowing I wasn’t going to hang out with everyone and socialize. I’d probably just sit under a tree and drink my sorrows away.

“Eva, you-” The sounds of horses outside broke him from his sentence. Some people went out and others just turned back to their food. The Scouts were slowly dwindling in number as they were waiting for the new recruits to come in from training. No one was enthused that they were coming in and out and those who would go and watch them come back were sadists. I turned my back and went to busy myself with some invisible work at the back table.

“You know, if he did something to you to-” I grasped the table. He says this almost every time they march outside of my café.

“If who did something, Jonas?” He felt the venom in my tone and decided not to push forward. I coughed for what felt like the hundredth time and it broke the tension.

“So, uh, next week. I’ll come to get you when we leave. Should be after five. We’ll all get dinner and take it out.” He took the money off the counter and went out of the store, probably to go glare at the Scouts who were walking by.

If he didn’t come this Saturday that marks three months. It also marks the point where I get the message and I’ll forget about him all together. I had forgiven him the first month. He didn’t know how to deal with emotions so he needed some time and maybe needed to kill some titans. The second month came, and an extended break for weather conditions, but yet he didn’t come anywhere near Trost. I even went through one cold and caught another one just waiting for his ass. I wanted him to reject me already so I wasn’t getting let down on the daily.

Here comes my surprise when Saturday one rolls around, I’m still coughing and sneezing, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Even the old ladies stopped coming. I guess they were more wiser on when to give up.

Damn. That was something I never thought I’d hear myself say. Giving up hope. Even he said that he’s afraid I’d give up hope because of him. Well, here we seem to be.

I shouldn’t let a shorty who doesn’t know how to process emotion take away my hope.

The bells rang above the door and two nightshift Garrison members walked in. My least favorite people, always coming 30 minutes before closing asking me to serve them fresh coffee to keep them awake. They never failed to make my mood worse and this oncoming headache wasn’t going to go away with their shouts. Last month, I had to kick out a few of them because they were talking so nastily about the Scouts. I couldn't bear it and neither could my head. I still had hope in the Scouts as a whole, especially hearing they were getting new recruits, and one person wasn’t going to ruin that. Hopefully, the fresh meat would propel them like it did last year. Hm, maybe fresh meat was not a good way to describe the cadets.

The bell above the door rang again and I looked up to be face to face with the Wings of Freedom. At least one Scout was using their day off, a tall one at that. A contrast to shorty. She had rectangular glasses strapped to her face and auburn hair in a ponytail. She came in smiling crazily too. A big contrast.

“Are you Eva with the peppermint tea?” I had to do a double take and even blinked a few times before answering her. I sneezed again before answering.

“Um, yes. I think that would be me. Who’s asking?” She sharply reached out her hand and I shook it. Ouch, she had a hard grip.

“I’m Hange Zoë, a squad leader for the Scouts Regiment. I’m here to escort you to the Scout HQ. Do you have the peppermint tea?” I blinked again, not moving. She wanted to take me where? The last place I wanted to go, that’s where.

“Am… Am I in trouble?” She laughed out loud, not caring if anyone looked at her. Yeah, she really wasn’t at all like the Scouts I meet on a daily basis.

“No, no. Not at all. In fact, I almost have no idea why I’m taking you there. Well, a little bit more of an idea than you have. Personally,” she leaned in and whispered behind her hand, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you since I saw you at the festival, but shorty wouldn’t crack.” It wasn’t a whisper and I’m sure if anyone was at the first few tables, they would have heard it.

“A-and if I don’t come with you?” She shrugged and crossed her arms.

“I’ll drug you and drag you myself.” I stepped back from the counter and she roared with laughter, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Do I look like someone who would do that? Well, maybe... but If you don’t come, I’ll have to deal with an even more upset Captain and I don’t want to do that!” Captain? He ordered her here?

“Did the Captain send you to get me?” She pushed her glasses up and leaned one arm on the counter.

“I guess I should’ve led with that. Levi said, ‘Eva with the peppermint tea,’” she imitated his voice and facial expression, “I had to go to three coffee shops in Trost to find an Eva. Two streets down is a Freud and about a half mile behind you in a cute old couple. I didn’t think the Captain would want them that badly. So when I walked in and remembered seeing Captain talk to you at the festival, I knew I hit the jackpot.” She snapped at the end making a point to her adventure to find me. The Garrison members were now staring at her, too. They probably knew about her better than I did.

“Why does he want me to come to HQ?” She shrugged again, but this time without a death threat after.

“I don’t know, but shorty is very adamant about it. I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream, but that made him even madder. Anyways, I was hoping you’d come and bring the tea and a...” she looked down at ink on her hand, “ a tea set. Captain Levi broke his on the first day of the year. How unlucky is that?” He was adamant that I come? That’s stupid. How adamant can he be when he’s had three months to do it. He probably just wanted to make it easy for someone to drag me away from him when he rejected me. Either way, I was intrigued.

The Garrison members groaned when I shoved them out the door to lock up a few minutes early.

I shouldn’t have gone really, but I had no excuse. Maybe I just wanted him to reject me like I said and then have a sad ride back to the café. However, Hange coming in and saying all those things made me much more concerned about his mental wellbeing than what he was going to say to crush me. And if he was making me come all the way there, was he going to give me bad news? I don’t think he’d be that mean, but I have never faced the real Captain Levi before.

Hange had given me another cape, and some tissues for my nose, saying that it would be easy to have me come in unnoticed because the new cadets had just showed up. She just hoped I didn’t get caught sneaking around by Erwin and thrown into combat training. This woman was saying stuff that was making me scared the whole ride there. I was on a horse too, so that made my anxiety worse.

The Scout HQ was a huge ass castle and I didn’t think it would look at all like this. The barracks in the capital were just a big square building with some pillars. This place was gigantic. Hange made it a point to name every section of the castle so I somehow knew right away where I was going. I was going to the Officer’s Wings.

“It’s a shame though. We’re leaving this place soon for a new one the government issued. It’s not as nice, but it’s smaller because they don’t think we need such a big place… Well, it’s true, but… they didn’t have to say it like that, you know! I’ll have to move my whole lab!”

The hallways were also tall on the inside. It was an actual abandoned castle. I wondered who had lived in here before the government got ahold of it. She even stopped by to show me the throne room that they had converted into the mess hall. It’s like I was on a field trip, but at the end of it was the school leader’s office. Why was I being summoned by him? Was he not good enough to come to the civilian’s café anymore? Annoying prick.

“Here is Captain Levi’s quarters. We just transferred him back today, but he’s still a bit sore from not moving around much. I hope that once he gets his peppermint tea that he’s moaning about, he won’t be so rude to everyone anymore.” I balanced the tea set and bag of tea in my hands as she opened the door for me.

“Transferred?” She waved her hand like it was nothing as shut the door on me. It was like she threw me into the wolves. She didn’t even want to be. I didn’t know she was just going to leave me like that because my nerves just skyrocketed.

His office was like he described. Half the size of the capital, but still with big windows in the back. This time, they were turned to the way of the sun. There was a single, full bookshelf against the wall on the left with another chair in front. This time the chair didn’t seem as uncomfortable as the ones in the capital. He wasn’t sitting at his desk where I thought he’d be. As soon as I saw the crack in the door and dim light peaking through, I knew he was in his bedroom. Why?

We just transferred him back today. Well where had he been?

I decided to sneak up to the little cut out in the wall which held a singular hot plate. If I could make tea, I could prolong the time I didn’t have to talk to him. Why did I even come here in the first place? It’s not like I like this guy anymore or would bend over at his will. Just a rejection, yeah, that’s what I came for.

Taking a single, short step, I tested the floors, hoping they didn’t squeak. Once I was in the clear, I slowly started to tiptoe towards the opening. If I went fast near his door, he wouldn’t even see it.

Achoo!

I held the tea set, but it rattled mercilessly in the box. Oh fu-

“Hange?!” Oh, yeah, he was definitely in the bedroom. Now, I’d just stand here with my eyes closed and hope I didn’t look too bad when he opened the door.

Who am I kidding, I literally hopped on a horse to get here on a whim. I’m bending so far over for this man it’s ridiculous.

“Hange, I told you it was the sixth café down off of the turn we make on the main drag. It’s hard to,” there was a wheeze, “h-hard to miss.” I stood there for a while, but he didn’t come out or open the door. In fact, there was no movement coming from his room at all.

“Hello?!” It was harsh and was followed by another sharp intake of air. It dawned on me then. Transferred. Was he injured?!

“Um, hello?” I finally answered and looked again to see if he would open the door now. Still no movement and now no answer. Maybe Hange messed up and he didn’t want me he-

“Did you bring the tea?” I was not expecting that. His voice was instantly softer than before and after months of not hearing it, it made me melt.

“Oh, um, uh, yes, yes I did. And the set, and the set.” I coughed into my arm, masking my cold. If he knew I was sick, he might send me back just because of germs.

“C-come in. M-My room. I already have hot water...” Come in? To his room? His bedroom? Where he’s laying? He hasn’t even come into my bedroom before.

“Um, are you sure you want me in there?” There was a loud groan, probably so I could hear his annoyance too.

“Just get in here, brat.” There was something about him calling me that that made me annoyed and walk slowly into his room. Was it the urge to bicker again?

I opened the door and peaked in, instantly locking eyes with him. I screamed at my heart because just like the first day, it started beating fast again. Shut up. He’s going to reject you then you’re going to go back home and put the tarts in the oven to prebake.

He looked pitiful. There were bandages wrapped all the way around his torso and he was shirtless, but it didn’t look like it. His head had one bandage around it too, but that one seemed pretty useless. More of a headband if anything. It had also been a while since he’s bathed, marked by the incomplete stubble scattered around his mouth and chin. He just laid there, blanket up to his waistband, staring at me. What had happened and for how long was he like this?

My anger and inhibition to come inside subsided and I set the tea set down on the floor. There was no chair for me to sit on, so I just stood. We stared at each other for what seemed like eternity, my heart still beating out of my chest. He was the first one to break the silence.

“C-Can you make me tea?” It almost came out like a whine coupled with his lack of breath. I crouched down and took the tea set out, looking at the makeshift water kettle he had on his nightside table. This bedroom was so small; there was no room for a desk. His bed was up against the wall only leaving a few feet towards the door and enough room for a dresser and walking space at his feet. No windows.

“You can,” he caught his breath and was silence for a few moments before continuing, “You can sit here, Eva.” He tapped the space next to him on his bed. I was hesitant at first, but the way he said Eva made me almost forget all his wrong doings. How badly did I want to see him again that I was acting like this? So weak for a single man. I sat down on the bed, back to him, trying to ignore his heated stare.

It was the same feeling the night I kissed him. I made him tea, he stared at me from behind, but I couldn’t get close to him this time. That was going to be the difference. I wouldn’t let myself have such a weak will like last time. Go in, make the tea, get out.

“What did you do?” Goddamnit Eva. You weren’t supposed to make conversation like this.

“A newer cadet ran into me while I was trying to finish off an abnormal titan. The titan got a hold of me and squeezed pretty hard before I cut it’s fingers off. The cadet gave me the concussion, and the titan fractured most of my ribs. This was the beginning of February.” Of course he gave me a date. If I went back to that time, I said I was going to let it slide, too. I had given him January off and if he got hurt in February that means even if he wanted to come to the café, maybe he couldn’t… No, Eva, if he wanted to he’d send Hange earlier.

I told him I was busy for a whole month, thinking it was a fever dream.

“Oh,” I went back to work, taking out the set he left when he stormed out of the café and the new peppermint tea he has yet to drink. No one but him comes in to drink mint tea. Usually it’s just green or black, so the stock I buy is just for him. Imagine me staring at the tea leaves sitting under the counter for hours next to the tea set box willing him to walk into the café. If he wasn’t going to come back, maybe I should just give it to him so he doesn’t force me here again.

“I’m almost healed completely. There’s just one rib that’s bothering me enough to not be able to go back in the field.” It was interesting to hear him talk so much, even when injured. Our roles had reversed. Maybe he felt pressured to talk more than usual. I hope guilt was pushing him.

“That’s good.” I just sat there, watching the tea leaves swirl in the water, and hoping I’d had enough strength to turn back away from him when I gave him his cup.

“What have you been d-doing?”

“The usual.” I picked at my skirt, noticing it was the one I’d worn the last time I’d seen him. When only owning about five, there were heavy odds that would happen. Sadly, this meant the odds were stacked against me. I only won a few bits of luck back when I was, in fact, able to turn back around when I gave him his tea. I didn’t even look in his eyes either.

“Can you help me into the bathroom?” He set the empty tea cup down next to me, making it so I didn’t have to turn around to put it on his nightstand. If I helped him, I’d have to look at him though. This was apart of some plan.

“I could get Hang-” He grabbed my wrist with a bit of force and used his strength to turn me. I also fell on top of him with how hard he whipped me around. This was the first time he had put his hands on me like that.

“Why can’t you even look at me?!” I was breathing hard, but still looking at the blankets on the bed. His hand was bandaged too. We’d traded places in that aspect. I wasn’t going to tell him, but the balm he gave me helped. HE didn’t deserve that information when he was acting like this.

I stood up, taking my knees off the bed, and pulled the blanket off of him. I made sure to fold this so he had nothing to yell at me about again. He got himself parallel to me and needed help to sit up. The was probably going to be the most painful part. You were helping someone who was in pain, there was nothing else to it. I was being a nurse to him since no one else was around to do so.

Reaching for his back, I carefully helped lift him up to a seated position. The amount of curse words that came out of his mouth made my heart squeeze at the pain I was putting him through. It was just pity; you were sad for the man who was hurt. That’s it. I shifted my position to sitting next to him and silently gasped when he put his arm around me and grabbed my opposite shoulder. Minus the time I had kissed him, this was the closest we’d ever been. My mind couldn’t help but take a delight in that.

When we stood, there were a lot less curse words, but they were still there. My gaze was directed at the floor as we walked out and directly to the right into the small bathroom. They really paid no expense to give the Scouts nothing. This was an officer’s quarters too, which meant that he had one of the best lodgings. I bet it was bunk beds and communal showers outside of this wing.

I let go of him and got behind him near the door. I had no idea what he was going to do here, but I knew I’d leave as soon as he started. Would I leave completely now that I’d given him tea? It seemed rude to someone who was in his state. What if he falls or hurts himself again? This wing was so far removed from the others. My weak will triumphs again.

“Can you take off the bandages? There’s scissors on the sink.” How much was he going to torture me before I leave? He’s hurt, just do it, Eva.

I picked up the scissors and walked over to his back, trying to be gentle so I didn’t cut the skin off of him. I put one hand on his upper back and worked from the bottom-up, cutting away at the thick, white bandages holding his ribs in place.

The speed of our breathing matched when I touched his bare skin. Was he breathing hard because of the decreased pressure? I raised one eyebrow, maybe taking that as a selfish clue, and took away the last bandage. They fell on the floor and allowed me to take in his shirtless back. There were bruises that were healing and a few minor cuts, but most importantly it seemed to be all lean, muscle. He wouldn’t care or notice if I was staring, so I took it as payback. Sweet, muscular, gorgeous pay back. If he turned he would have seen my blush.

Yeah, good luck Eva, the feelings aren’t gone.

“I’m going to shower. You can, um, there’s books? I think Hange left something to eat a few hours ago, too. Eat that...if you want.” That was his way of telling me he didn’t want me to leave.

“Okay,” I finished shortly and turned back around, closing the bathroom door. When the water went on, I took a long breath and sunk down against the door. I put a hand to my face and lightly slapped it to wake me up. My face had to be at least five shades redder after that encounter. Was he going to make me put bandages back on him? Would I get to see his front on full display? I slapped my face again and frowned at myself. He wasn’t the only shirtless man you’ve seen, quit acting like this.

I stood up and looked around at his office. There were papers scattered all over his desk, nothing seemed to be in it’s right place, and I could see a layer of dust collecting on the shelves to the right of his desk. It’s not because me cleaning would make him happy, but it’s because I had taken an interest in looking around his office. It would be a disservice to the place if I didn’t look at it in the way he intended.

Starting with the desk, I just pushed papers together and stacked them in neat piles on his desk. It was easy to find a spot because there was absolutely nothing on his desk besides a name plaque, a cup to hold pens, and a stamp that seemed to be his official marking for papers. His office was as bare as the one in the capital. I found a cloth by the burner and used that to wipe down the shelves that were equally as empty. A rusted knife, a small stack of Wings of Freedom cloth emblems, and a cracked, white teacup. I wonder what these things meant to him if he put them over here on display.

I wiped off his desk too and opened the curtains that blocked the sunlight from the windows. His office viewed the training ground as I saw cadets practicing hand-to-hand combat in full uniform. When I finished dusting everything, I sat down in his chair, taking in the full view of his office. If I had a room like this, I’d fill it with something and not leave it so empty. I bet it even echoed.

“Echo… echo,” I confirmed my suspicion. When we talked about remodeling the Scouts HQ, his office had never come into the conversation when it severely needed to.

The water shut off and my gaze snapped to the door of the bathroom. He takes quick showers for someone who was slightly incapacitated. I wonder how long they took him when he was back to normal. Showers should be savored, not rushed; that was my opinion.

The door opened and I just turned the random book of his desk open to pretend I was reading. It was something about the history of Scout maneuvers but I couldn’t understand a thing. He had to know I was lying to him.

“You cleaned?” I glanced quickly up at him and looked back down at the book. Oh gods. He was smiling. Not a smirk or a smile after he insulted me; a heartwarming, genuine smile. Another one worth ten points at least. I wanted to look back up at him. If he smiled like that again, this whole emotionless façade of mine was going to break easily.

He walked over to the small foot rest that was in front of his desk and sat down slowly to face me. I just kept staring at the pictures in the book finally discovering that the Os were Scouts and the Xs were titans.

“Interesting book?” I turned the page and nodded, lying to him. This page didn’t have a picture so I’d have to pretend to be interested in the words.

“Can you even understand what that’s saying?” I’d been caught. I acted like I had finished the page before closing the book and setting it aside. This time, I felt like I was at an appropriate distance to look at him. That was a mistake because he was still smiling at me and I felt my insides melt. He was doing it on purpose. The defensive strategy that I made while he was shower disappeared too.

“No,” I answered truthfully and took in his form. He had put the bandages on himself, thank gods, and was sitting completely straight so as to not hurt his ribs. His face was smooth again, but his hair had grown almost past the tip of his nose. Even like this, he looked so handsome. I leaned back in the chair and started twiddling my thumbs, looking down at them.

“You cut your hair?” He was observant. I coughed before answering.

“I do at the beginning of every year.”

“Are you sick?” His voice was filled with concern and not the tone of ‘If you say yes, I’ll kick you out’.

“A cold.”

“So you haven’t been taking care of yourself.” There was no tea to sip in place of answering his statement. Those words brought back a bit of anger though. The effects of his smile didn’t last long.

“If you cared, why didn’t you come back then?” He sighed and rested one leg over the other like he always does.

“I was sca-”

“Don’t say you were scared. You’ve used that excuse before. Find something original.” It was a lot easier to yell at him when I wasn’t looking at him.

“I didn’t know how to respond.” I clenched my fists. I knew that when I kissed him, but it still made me mad. He was a grown man.

“Usually when someone kisses you, you have two options. Respond back or tell them you don’t want that. You don’t run away from them.” He groaned which made my anger even worse. He didn’t know how to respond to anything I was saying and that made him frustrated too.

“C-Can you come sit next to me?” I looked up at him for the first time, my eyes hardening with emotion.

“No, I won’t.” I didn’t dare get close to him again.

“Eva,” he pleaded and I shook my head again.

“I’m not playing this game anymore, Levi. I’m not going to play pretend with you and ignore the reality of things.” He stood up again slowly.

“Look at this. At me. This is reality. I almost died out on the field because I was thinking about you and not the titans! I called you here to show you that because I don’t think you know how bad things can get.” I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms.

“Are you saying I’m a distraction?” He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration again. No, sir, I was the one who could be frustrated.

“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I almost died because of one small slip up. Who knows what could happen on the next expedition? You don’t know what it’s like to be outside of the walls or to see people die to the left and right of you! I’m always next.” I glared at him.

“Maybe if we didn’t spend so much time in our pretend little world, you could’ve told me so I understand. Maybe you’d know about my life in the Underground and how you’re completely wrong about me not knowing how bad things can get. You’re the one who did this to yourself!” I hit his desk with my fist and stood up to match him. I wasn’t going to back down. His face went blank again, back into the calculating Captain Levi, not the one who seemed to blurt out things when the emotion came too much for him to know how to deal with it.

“I don’t… ”

“You’re afraid of yourself. If you let yourself really do what you want, it’ll break the little pretend world you’ve made. The one where you’re emotionless and in control of every part of yourself and the people below you. You can’t push away reality and keep playing pretend with me.” He gripped his fist.

“I’m not playing pretend.”

“Then who are you when you’re sitting on my couch?”

“Levi.”

“Levi or Captain Levi?” He shook his head like it didn’t matter the difference.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“They’re two different people. Right now, you’re being Captain Levi. You’re calculating down to your next syllable and not letting yourself say what you want. When you’re Levi, you talk freely and smile and laugh. That’s why we never talk about your life or the Scouts, because you feel you can never talk freely around me about those things. You don’t need to protect me.” He looked down at the floor again, calculating what to say next. It was so frustrating that he couldn’t just speak like he was previously. He always had to be in control.

“Scouts die everyday. There’s no guarantee that I’ll come back. And when I’m back, there’s no guarantee that I can come and see you. I have paperwork and training and duties I have to humanity first. I will always be Captain Levi before I am Levi… since you see a difference in the two.” That changed the pace I was going at. I was going to continue to yell at him, but those last works…

“I’m not going to hold myself back because I’m afraid of what could happen. I recognize there are things I can and can’t control and I live with it. No one can live like that. You would never be a Scout if you lived like that. You would never be a Captain if you hesitated on every move or order you made. Right now, you’re eating yourself up inside because you want to control everything and can’t admit it to yourself that you can’t!” I squeezed my eyes shut, not caring if my words hurt him in any way. It was the truth.

“What will you do when I die?” My eyes shot open and locked with his. That emotion was there again. The sliver of something I could never put my finger on. The soft tone of his voice matched it. When?

“I believe in you enough to know that day will never come.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer and it made him lean forward, grasping the edge of the desk hard enough to make his fingers white. He was only a few inches away from me, but my anger clouded over the want to lean in and taste him again. Did he taste like tea?

“I’ll ask you one more time. What will you do when I die?” I shook my head at him, denying his death, and this time he hit the desk with his injured fist, “Why do you have so much blind faith in people? In me?”

“I was given a second chance at life because an old man had faith in a little Underground girl with burned hands. I believe everyone should be given the same. You haven’t done anything for me to lose faith in you. I don’t go out to see you off on expeditions because I know I’ll see you when you get back.” He seemed to almost collapse down in one big breath, his head between his straight arms, hands still gripping the edge of the desk.

The air in his office was tense. No one had probably ever talked to him like I had just did and my words probably matched the internal dialogue he’s had with himself. He knows that I’m right and that he’ll break down on the inside if he keeps trying to strive for total control.

I stood there looking at the back of his head, waiting for him to speak up. His hands kept clenching and unclenching the edge of the desk like he was thinking everything over again. The fact that he couldn’t control the his emotions in this situation, no matter how hard he tried, was probably beating him to death on the inside. Was he sad because once he rejected me, he’d lose the pretend world where he can relax and there isn’t a need to strive for control? Was he angry at me for speaking to him like that?

“I think I have feelings for you. I’m just apprehensive.” My eyes widened and I looked down at him, still crouched over at the other end of the desk. That wasn’t the emotion I thought he was experiencing. My heart was beating so hard he could probably hear it too. He just… I didn’t expect this to be the outcome of the night.

“What will you do when I die? Just answer the question.” This was his apprehension. He’s had to move on constantly from people who’ve died, outside the wall or under it. He’s strong, but he didn’t know how strong I could be. I’ve watched people die too. I’ve had to say goodbye countless times. I had to make sure he knew I could deal with pain and hurt as well, and not just my own.

“I’ll give you a nice funeral, wait a year, then move on to Commander Erwin.” The tension broke and he let out a huff of air in laughter before standing up. His eyes were back to normal, but this time a lot softer than when he was walking down the street. It wasn’t indifference, it was just from being relaxed.

“I can’t abandon my duty as a Captain. If I have work to do, that comes first.”

“Understandable.”

“It might be months on end where you won’t be able to see me.”

“I guess I’ll just have to get a mistress.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. The orange light from the sun setting behind us made it so I couldn’t stop staring at him now.

“I’m being serious here, Eva.” I sat back down in his chair, crisscrossed, still struck with his face.

“So am I, Levi.”

“I require monogamy.” I think that was him trying to make a joke so I indulged.

“I guess I can live with that. The bakery keeps me busy enough. If I have orders to fill out, that comes first.” I mimicked him and a small smirk crept up onto his face. That’s how I knew he was completely back.

“Understandable, but slightly saddening you put baked goods above me.” There was a knock at the door. He rolled his eyes and went over to answer it. I made sure I was out of sight of the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing disturbing my sleep, cadet? Can’t you see my state? I should make you clean the stables for waking me up.” I could hear the nervousness in the cadet’s voice when he answered.

“I-I-I’m so… sorry, Captain! I didn’t know you were sleeping! Squad leader Zoë told me to bring you this!” There seemed to be an exchange of plates and the cadet was still shaking as Levi turned back into the room/

“Dismissed. Don’t come knocking this late again.” He kicked the door closed in front of the cadet saluting him and walked to the desk with two plates of food.

“I see now where the mean rumors come from. He was just delivering food.” He set the place down in front of me, ignoring my comment.

“Not Erwin.” He pulled the ottoman over so he could eat at his desk too. I smiled spooning some curry.

“Why not? I’m trying to climb the ranks.” He shook his head again.

“If you think I’m too calculated, then you’d hate him. That book you were pretending to read, he’s probably gone through that six or seven times. He stays up till dawn thinking about where a single person should ride in our formation to maximize titan spotting. He’ll have no time for you.” I pulled a face and he lightly laughed. Actually laughed.

“I guess I’m just stuck with you, Captain.”

Chapter Eight →

Chapter Masterlist

xx Now, we’ll start getting into actually AOT plot. Did you all watch the new ep today? Only got to see a part of our King’s face :(

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #aot levi #aot #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi heichou #levi headcanons #original character

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loopy777 · 3 years

Note

RE: WIPs game: Actress Mai. what is she acting in? besides her ongoing starring role as Repressed Perfect Child?

Ah, "Actress Mai." This is a headcanon I keep chipping away at in the hopes that I'll eventually have something I want to publish. I have a whole host of little ideas and scene concepts, but only one actual WIP.

It started with the idea that Zuko and Ursa are theater snobs. Sure, Ursa apparently attended Ember Island Player performances, which Zuko disdained, but my thought is that she took what she could get in terms of live theater with her family even if she agreed with his criticisms. However, I like to headcanon that Mai loves the Ember Island Players, hates classical theater, and generally is the type of person who thinks that Michael Bay movies are great and more people should just turn off their brains and allow themselves to be entertained.

Why?

Well, because character conflict is what makes stories interesting. Zuko gritting his teeth through Mai's praise of how the EIPs finally made "Love Amongst the Dragons" interesting? Gold! Ursa and Mai getting into heated drunken arguments about theater styles? Gold! Mai convincing Kiyi of the good points of the controversial 'Love Amongst the Dragons II: Love Harder' (which is canon to at least two of my Maiko fics) while Zuko and Ursa grit their teeth? Solid gold!

This fun little conflict turned into something more, though. If Ursa and Mai are dark mirrors of each other in terms of theater tastes, then it felt like Mai needed a little acting history to parallel Ursa's own. But Ursa could be a publicly known actress because she was a peasant; such a profession was okay for her. Mai is a noble, though, and an acting job would be seen as beneath her, especially as a woman, as Polite Fire Society knows (or thinks it knows) that 'actress' is really just a polite term for prostitute. This is a takeoff from some real-life history stuff that I first learned of through Sherlock Holmes stories. Apparently, Irene Adler being an 'opera singer' was a thing British readers would recognize as being of a sordid nature.

So I decided that Mai did some secret, illicit acting anonymously during her childhood and teenage years. She stumbled across an opportunity, gave it a try, and found it fulfilling despite the social stigma. She liked being able to project emotions of all kinds in public, while at the same time shielded by masks or makeup or costumes or whatever. She liked being other people, people who find love with their heroes or die tragically to teach everyone a point or villainously ruin everything around them as a force of vengeful nature. It was the only opportunity for expression that she had, as well as a quiet form of rebellion. So for years she snuck out of the capital, down to Harbor City, and acted in all kinds of plays for a troupe that accepted not paying her as a fair trade for keeping her anonymous.

Naturally, moving to Omashu put a crimp on that, and so it ended.

So the idea is that Ursa eventually learns this about Mai after years of their butting heads over theater opinions, sees the parallels and perpendiculars in their lives, and grudgingly comes to respect Mai's completely wrong opinions about theater as at least being informed. And Mai, who is good at acting and does know the classics and would be wasted in the Ember Island Players, helps Ursa out with some plays she writes (still anonymous, although Zuko and Ursa know) even though Mai privately thinks the dialogue is too stilted and the stories kind of cliched.

But I have had trouble beating all of this into a proper story. I want to do flashbacks to Mai on stage, I want to show her conflict with Ursa, I want to reveal how Ty Lee found out and used that to get Mai to accept running away to the circus, I want Zuko's reaction to finding that his wife can recite soliloquies from all the major classics, I want Kiyi becoming an Ember Island Players groupie, etc. It's just missing a plot to hang it all on.

So here's a snippet of one of my attempts to construct something:

Noren grimaced. "Honestly, I was impressed we got enough people to fill out all the parts, never mind understudies. This play-"

"-is important," Ursa finished for him.

He hesitated just a moment before nodding. "And it's important for the same reasons that it was tough to get actors. I'm sure once Zuko sees it and can give it his official approval-"

"But he can't see anything without a Rinzen." Ursa thought about her son out there in the audience, anonymous amidst the 'peasants' of Hira'a. Zuko didn't mind mixing with his people, despite being their Lord, but the only reason he was here, tonight, was because Ursa herself had written the play, and he was a good son who would always support his mother.

Zuko had even brought his friends, including the Avatar. Aang was a delightful young man, and always very nice to Ursa, but she couldn't help but feel trepidation at his presence. After all, Avatar Roku, Ursa's grandfather and Aang's previous life, was a major character in this play, and while the story was based on real events, it was Ursa's hand that had shaped his dialogue and actions. She was putting her thoughts and philosophies, her very heart, out on the stage for public assessment, and this was tricky material. Would it do right by history?

Plus the lead actress was sick, and going by her complaints and the smell of the privy, perhaps dying.

Ursa had to tell herself that her audience, her friends and family and neighbors, wouldn't enjoy this play becoming a disaster. None of them were that bad. This wasn't the Capital. And she wasn't a princess. Not anymore.

So why had she taken it on herself to write this play, to positively dramatize a story of an ancestor who a few years ago was considered a heretic and traitor, to will into being a performance right here in the Fire Nation of a play that featured a heroic Air Nomad character whose actress was currently trapped in the privy?

Because her nation had hurt the world, and she wouldn't leave it to her son alone to do all the work of helping to fix that. That's why.

"Maybe," she ventured, "I could play the part."

Noren frowned. "You? But you're playing the Lady of Glass, and the characters share several scenes."

But Ursa was already analyzing the copy of the script that existed in her mind. "Rinzen has a lot more lines than the glass spirit, and I'm the only one who knows them. And playing a spirit is a lot easier than playing an Air Nomad. A spirit is just a voice, a costume, and some special effects. An Air Nomad character is a performance, and we're fresh out of actresses."

Noren's head tilted from side to side. "We could ask Kiyi. She knows the play by heart. She's a bit young for the part, yes, but-"

"No," Ursa cut him off. "She'd say yes if we asked her, but she hates being on stage. I'm not going to do that to her. I'd rather call off the play and see if our Rinzen is feeling better tomorrow."

Noren blanched at the very thought and made a gesture of good luck. "Well, maybe we can find a new Lady of Glass. And adjust the Rinzen costume. So are you thinking we'll just go on stage and ask the crowd who wants to join the cast, or maybe-"

And then there was a shift behind Noren, the red curtain over the office's doorway being pulled aside to reveal a living shadow. It seemed to Ursa that a chill had entered the room.

Lady Mai, Intended to Fire Lord Zuko, had arrived.

Ursa stiffened as Mai stepped into the office and let the curtain fall back into place. Time and familiarity had not made it any easier to be in a room with her son's lover. She had no real doubts about Mai, no resentment over the early difficulties Zuko that had apparently been overcome, but it was hard to reconcile Azula's shy and dour childhood companion with what existed now. Mai walked around covered with knives, watching everything; she never spoke unless there was an explicit need, but her gaze was always focused and her eyes missed nothing.

And it was in Mai's kind of silent, watchful abyss that Judgement grew. Ursa did not have a good feeling about how Mai likely judged her. How could a child of the Fire Nation's capital, someone who had become strong alongside Azula, a world-class warrior whose last stand for the life of her lover was already the subject of at least one popular poem, have any empathy for Ursa's life or the mistakes she had made?

Mai looked at her with dull eyes. "Is everything okay? The crowd is getting restless, and Zuko was worried. I told him I'd check on things so that he wouldn't miss the beginning of the play."

Ursa hesitated against that flat, low voice, and Noren stepped in to answer, "Our lead actress is sick. Ursa and I were just discussing options. There- uh, there aren't a lot of them."

Mai might as well have been told that dinner was planned to include green sprouts, but they were all out and so the yellow ones would be substituted. "Which part?"

Ursa swallowed. "The Air Nomad girl, Rinzen."

Mai quirked an eyebrow. "The heroine." She was still and silent for a long moment, and then sighed. "Zuko's really been looking forward to this. I guess I can help out. All right, I'll be your Rinzen."

Ursa wasn't quite sure she had heard that right. "You- you want to take the part? But-" Her voice faltered, as all the possible objections swirled through her mind. Mai was, to put it simply, completely lacking in charisma and non-threatening presence. She spoke without emotion. She moved so efficiently that no one in the back of the audience would even notice her. And she was so disinterested in everything that she'd probably nod off in the middle of the performance.

Noren offered a troubled smile. "Thank you for the offer, but acting is harder than it looks. It's not just about going on stage and reciting lines. An actress needs-"

"It's Nomad part, right?" Mai shrugged. "So we want a high, bright voice. Circular gestures. A bounce in all the movements. Here, like this." She stretched out her arms, shook her head, and then-

-and then-

-and then Mai was no longer there. The woman in red and black looked like her, but there was a wide mischievous smile on her face, and her eyes were big and bright. She stepped towards Ursa- no, they weren't mere steps. She kicked her heels high with each one, and the way she shifted her weight flirted with almost being a dance. She held her arms up at her side as she moved, and then when she reached Ursa, swung them dramatically to bring her hands together into a sign of respect.

She bowed, and in a voice that positively rang and filled the room, said, "Are you not the Firebender Avatar, Roku? What a fortunate wind blows to lay my path upon your own!" She rose again, and trotted in a circle around Ursa. "I say, you are taller than I expected, and must be quite heavy. Are you sure you're keeping up with your Airbending, young Avatar?" She raised a hand and held it out to the side.

Noren recovered before Ursa did, realizing what was going on, and quickly found a rag and placed in the waiting hand.

Mai's eyes never left Ursa the whole time, and as soon as the rag was in her grip, she moved again, taking a stance that had clearly been modeled on Avatar Aang's own style, and held the rag out in front of her, dangling it from her fingers and bouncing it in the air.

Mai gave a laugh that was echoed through the little room. "Your beard flutters in my breeze! Come, young Avatar, let's have a spar!"

There was a beat, and Ursa was tempted to deliver Roku's next line in response, but then all at once the younger woman slumped, letting the grandness leak out of her limbs. When she straightened, Mai was back, standing like a blade made of shadow, her face blank and her eyes dull.

Ursa blinked. What had she just witnessed? So many questions swirled in her mind, and she decided to ask the most important of them: "You know all the lines?"

#avatar mai #mai #ursa #avatar ursa

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fantasyfan · 3 years

Text

Misunderstanding: Solangelo Oneshot

My oneshot entry for @jason-the-saving-grace27′s oneshot contest on instagram. **Notes: I did not write the song near the end, it’s ‘Unity’ by Alan Walker. (The line means a new stanza thing, and the capitals mean a new line in the song.) This is only posted here because I can’t put it on instagram for some reason.

“No, you need to- Oh for Gods’ sake just let me do it,” Will sighed. Teaching Nico archery was an absolute nightmare.

They’d been training for a few weeks, and Nico had made significant progress. Harder techniques, aim, power, all of those were no problem for the son of Hades. He just kept forgetting the basic things, like his stance and posture.

Which meant, like now, Will had to remind him again. Or, when he lost patience, do it for him.

Gently taking Nico’s arms, Will positioned him correctly and kneed his slouched back.

“Straight back, Nico!”

“How can you expect any part of me to be straight when I’m around you?” Nico smirked flirtatiously, but did as he was told.

“Thanks, Nico. I love you too.” Will rolled his eyes, but was inwardly laughing. If you got to know him and he trusted you enough, Nico was actually pretty funny.

Though he wished Nico would be more social, Will enjoyed having this version of the son of Hades all to himself as well.

“If you love me, then why do I have to do this every day?” Nico complained, his arms throbbing from holding the bow for so long. His fingers hurt too, from pulling back and holding the bowstring for so long. For several consecutive days, Will had made him come out and have private archery lessons with him, which Nico only did because he loved his boyfriend.

In addition to his sore arms and hurt fingers, the son of Hades was getting tan. His olive turned snow-white skin was now inching its way towards being tan.

Will thought this darker complexion looked good on him, but Nico heavily disagreed. Which is why he now spent as much time as he could basking in the moonlight to try and become pale again.

Will didn’t have the heart to tell him that that wasn’t how it worked and allowed it as long as Nico slept enough. But of course, Nico wouldn’t do that unless prompted.

Which led Will to go looking for him that night.

Stumbling out of his cabin, Will rubbed his eyes to adjust to the light of the moon. He was only wearing pyjama bottoms, having jolted awake after realizing he hadn’t checked on Nico yet.

Most of the time, he’d by lying on the shore of the beach, basking in the moonlight.

Will had just reached the mess hall when he saw, or rather, heard, Nico. He was speaking softly, in a tone that was usually reserved for Will himself.

“Thank you. I love you, even if you aren’t here with me. Goodnight.” Nico sat still for another minute before standing up and brushing the sand off his trousers.

He jogged off the beach and got the sand out of his boots before shadow travelling away to his cabin.

Nico seemed happy, but the same couldn’t be said for Will. He was still comprehending the fact that Nico had said he loved someone. That wasn’t himself.

“Even if you aren’t here with me,” Will murmured, subconsciously tapping the wall of the mess hall. “The beach...Percy. Percy Jackson.” It made sense, at least in Will’s head, and now that it was the idea was in there, it wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

Will barely slept at all that night, while Nico slept the best he had in ages.

After all, he had just had a conversation with his sister. Or pretended to, anyway. He’d thought about what she would say to him if she found out he got the best boyfriend he could have ever hoped for.

Nico went to sleep happy and relaxed, thinking of his sister and Will, while the blonde himself went to sleep distressed and angry.

“Hey, where’s Will?” The next morning, Will was missing, nowhere to be found. Nico poked his head into the Apollo cabin, frowning when his boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

“I dunno. Haven’t seen him since yesterday, I thought he’d be with you,” Austin shrugged.

Nico nodded and headed back out, confused. This was weird, Will usually would’ve been around to find Nico for their archery session by now. He hadn’t seen the shaggy blonde hair at breakfast or lunch either.

Maybe Will just needed some time away, Nico told himself. Everything would be back to normal tomorrow then, if that was the case.

When things weren’t back to normal the next day, or the day after, Nico got nervous. There had to be a reason Will was avoiding him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it.

What if it was really bad, like he wanted to break up with Nico?

And so, despite not being the most patient, the son of Hades sat himself down and waited for a week.

After that, Nico snapped. Practically going insane with worry, he skipped breakfast to go look for Will.

The beach was a large open area, and close to the mess hall, so there was no way that Will was there.

He could’ve been around camp somewhere, but Will could also still be seen by Nico if he’d decided to leave breakfast early, or skip it all together like now.

That left the forest, which Nico knew was one of his boyfriend’s favourite places in the whole camp. Minus the monsters that lurked in there, of course.

So, he set off into the forest, praying that Will wasn’t too deep in.

Will sat in a semicircle of yellow flower bushes, plucking chords on his guitar. He’d been working on a song ever since he’d caught Nico supposedly cheating and talking to Percy.

“In the dark of night, The stars light up the sky, We see them flying free, That's just like you and me.” Will tapped his pencil on the paper, trying to think of the next lyrics.

He’d had the melody previously wcomposed, and usually, the lyrics for easy. But now that his mind was filled with darker thoughts, they weren’t coming as easily.

“Everyone is lonely sometimes..” he mumbled, writing it down. Scowling, Will bit his lip. That was a little dark, so he tried to think of a happier line.

Unfortunately, the first thing that came to mind was Percy, and his beautiful sea-green eyes. What Nico said came back to him, and he scowled. But it did give him a good line.

“Everyone is lonely sometimes, But I would walk a thousand miles to see your eyes.” Will scrawled it down in his notebook and started over from the beginning, to make sure it sounded right.

“In the dark of night, The stars light up the sky, We see them flying free, That's just like you and me. | Everyone is lonely sometimes, But I would walk a thousand miles to see your eyes.”

“Would you?” Will jumped up at the voice and saw Nico standing in front of him, hands in pockets. “Because right now, it seems like you would walk a thousand miles to avoid my eyes.”

“Well, you would walk a thousand miles to see Percy’s eyes!” Will inwardly grimaced, he hadn’t meant to get angry at Nico. A week of pent-up rage didn’t help keep him from snapping though.

“Percy?” Nico blinked in confusion, looking at Will like he’d gone mad.

“Yes, Percy! I saw you talking to him last week, by the lake!” Carefully putting his guitar on the ground, Will crossed his arms and glared at the shorter boy.

“The lake?” There was a moment of silence, during which Nico’s face morphed from confusion to laughter. “Will, you idiot! That’s what you were avoiding me for?”

Without waiting for an answer, Nico closed the short distance between the two grabbing Will’s shirt and pulling him down to kiss him.

Will had to admit he missed this, especially when Nico let go and wrapped his arms around him, the shaggy black hair tickling his chin.

“I was talking to my sister, sunshine. I was imagining what she would say if I could still summon her.” Nico smiled into his chest, one so wide that Will could feel it.

“But why the beach?” He asked, trying to seem skeptical even when he was hugging Nico back.

“I was 10. The lake was the last time I remember seeing her happy, when you guys played capture the flag and Percy and Thalia blew up at each other. That’s the only reason I remember it so well, and that’s why I went there.”

It made sense, since Nico didn’t play capture the flag and wouldn’t know where they actually played.

Will was beyond glad, but “Ah,”” was all he said.

“It was a misunderstanding, you idiot.” Will only smiled, and Nico looked up, laughing at his goofy grin. “Well, how about that song you were singing?”

The two of them sat down, and now that everything was solved between them, it was like a dam had been broken and the lyrics that had been held back flowed through.

“In the dark of night, The stars light up the sky, We see them flying free, That's just like you and me. | Everyone is lonely sometimes, But I would walk a thousand miles to see your eyes. You are not alone, we are family, Hold me, let’s escape this reality…”

#Nico di Angelo #nico di angelo x will solace #Will Solace #will solace x nico di angelo #solangelo #solangelo oneshot #pjo oneshot #hoo oneshot #toa oneshot #pjo #hoo #toa #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #Trails of Apollo #gay

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years

Text

Contamination

Here is my Chapter 10 rewrite. I hope I did it justice.

Synopsis: When Charlie makes a chilling discovery about Senator Farrugia’s illness, lives are put at risk...

Chapter 16 of the “With and Without” series

Previous Series: “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 4.7k

Rating: T (language)

That morning, the sun was bright. The world was good, and Charlie was happy.

Ethan woke her with a kiss and an offer of coffee, but she refused and bought a steaming cup from the coffee shop a block from the hospital. Before her shift began, she cozied up in Kyra’s hospital room, and together, they laughed like they didn’t fear it would be the last time.

“So, what did you get up to last night?” Kyra asked, eyeing Charlie’s latte with envy, “And if you tell me you watched Netflix from your bed, you need a better life.”

“I actually didn’t go home last night,” Charlie admitted cheekily, and to her delight, Kyra reacted with scandalized enthusiasm.

“You’re kidding?” Kyra leaned closer, eager for every little detail, “You have to tell me everything.”

Charlie would have – even who it was with – but she didn’t get the opportunity. Her gossip stood no chance against Bryce’s authority.

“It’s time,” he announced, knocking on the door belatedly with a solemn stare. He was smiling, but it was more resolved than happy. He was ready for surgery, not goodbye.

Charlie promised herself not to cry, so she hid her flash of concern in the act of straightening her white coat. Her eyes were sad as she took Kyra in, but she refused to say a word. Kyra was ready, and Charlie didn’t feel right adding any crack in her armor. She loved her friend enough to take a deep breath, smile, and hug her good luck.

“Give me all the sordid details tonight,” Kyra demanded.

“Every single one,” Charlie affirmed, “Even the parts you don’t want to know.”

This made Kyra laugh, and that was enough for Charlie to feel compelled to keep her promise.

As Charlie walked out of the hospital room, she came to Bryce’s side, and in all seriousness, she said, “Take care of her, Lahela.”

“If I mess up, the only person that will hate me more than you would be me,” Bryce gave a single, concerned glance in Kyra’s direction. It was the only one he allowed himself for the day, and once it was over, he assumed his bravado by adding, “Besides, look at me. I don’t even know how to make a mistake.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, but she felt safer with Kyra in his care. She wished them both a bit of final good luck and a goodbye, and then she walked out.

And as she walked away, despite everything, she felt light – like everything would be okay, like this story had a happy ending.

It was the last time she would feel that way for a long time.

Charlie started her shift with rounds and scheduled her patients so that she could squeeze in time to check on Kyra’s surgery from the observation room. She wasn’t even thinking of Senator Farrugia when Danny approached her.

There wasn’t much to think about. After Charlie discovered his lead poisoning, her most difficult patient was finally off the agenda. Instead of bothering the diagnostics team with questions or observations, he stayed in his hospital room, making calls, taking interviews, and answering emails. He was so busy trying to monopolize the publicity that his difficulty manifested in his refusal to follow his treatment plan if it didn’t suit his schedule for the day. Listening to him work made Charlie’s stomach churn. Every day he stayed in Edenbrook was another day that he exposed a new, corrupt facet to his personality. More than once, Charlie and Ethan stood outside his door, wondering if stealing him from Mass Kenmore was worth it.

“Charlie?” Danny approached her, a test result in his hand, “I have the results from Senator Farrugia’s paint samples. You marked them as urgent.”

Charlie briefly abandoned her charts to accept the results, but when she read them, her face twisted with confusion.

“Are you sure these are the right results?” Charlie asked distractedly, reading the paper over and over again as if it would change the contents.

“I double-checked,” Danny affirmed, wearing a matching look of bewilderment, “They’re right… I don’t know how, but those paint samples tested negative.”

That wasn’t the answer Charlie wanted, but she trusted Danny too much to doubt him.

If it wasn’t the paint, what could be poisoning Senator Farrugia?

Charlie thanked Danny. With a heavy sigh, she collected her charts and walked to the diagnostic’s office for further research.

So much for her break…

Charlie didn’t know where to start, so when she logged on to the computer, she ran a general search for the senator. She flagged anything about trips or notable habits, looking for any clue of contamination. Most of this information had already been studied during their preliminary search, but at that time, they weren’t looking for lead. Even under the new lens, she was able to throw out most of the news stories.

The further she went, the less clear it became.

Senator Farrugia lived in a new, high-end condo in D.C. The area had no reported lead problem, and the building was too new for lead paint or lead pipes. She had already called up all of his regular haunts in the capital, and none had any helpful information. His life in Massachusetts was limited to his office, his home, and the farmer’s market he frequented for publicity. None were insightful.

She searched the internet until Farrugia’s name had the title Mayor preceding it.

Charlie stumbled on a story from a decade earlier, when 3 died from lead pipes poisoning the water supply. She made a note to test his pipes in his home, and she clicked on the article for more information.

That was when she saw the photo of 13-year-old Jonathan Perry. The young boy was smiling for his school picture, all braces and excitement. He was the youngest victim of the lead poisoning, and there was something eerily similar about his pale skin and thin features. And the name…

Perry.

Like Travis.

On a hunch, Charlie googled Jonathan Perry. There wasn’t much to find – his old social media page, which was full of messages of condolences after his death, a news story about his middle school soccer team’s victory at state, and an obituary. She clicked on the sparse obituary. In lieu of flowers, the family requested donations for the local children’s hospital. They also used the same school photo as the newspaper article used.

Charlie skimmed the article, making an effort to remain doubtful.

But she knew.

She knew before she even read the last sentence.

“Jonathan Perry is survived by his parents – Deborah and Samuel Perry – and an older brother, Travis.”

Charlie’s blood ran cold, and she read the sentence again.

The second the thought – the horrible, terrible suspicion – crept in, Charlie jumped up and rushed to the senator’s room.

Charlie spent years reliving these moments. All in all, it was ten minutes at most, but they were replayed so many times that each second was accounted for. Charlie found every “what if” until they each tortured her.

What if she hadn’t rushed in? What if she had waited? What if she called Ethan and asked him what to do?

What if she just let Senator Farrugia die?

Would her friends still be alive?

Would she still be haunted?

But on that day, at that moment, she had none of those thoughts.

She just needed to get to Travis before something terrible happened.

Outside of Senator Farrugia’s hospital room, she found Bobby Gunderson, the security guard, talking with Raf about his upcoming move to Brazil. They were happy. They wouldn’t be once she spoke to them.

“Have you seen the senator’s assistant? Travis?” Charlie interrupted their conversation frantically. She looked between them both for a reply, though Bobby was really the only one who knew Travis. He had been assigned to Senator Farrugia off and on for the last week, and his dislike for the senator was matched by his disinterest in Travis. He never laughed at Bobby’s jokes, and Bobby took that as a sign of flawed character.

Bobby, understandably, was the one to answer Charlie. He looked startled by her, and she began to wonder if her anxiety was visible.

How could it not be?

She was on her way to confront an attempted murderer. She wasn’t prepared for this. She was terrified of being too late but also facing him at all.

“He’s inside with the senator,” Bobby replied, hoping that he would get an explanation in return. She didn’t immediately offer one.

“The weasel-looking guy? He was acting weird,” Raf chimed in, equally concerned by Charlie’s strange demeanor. He knew her well enough to know that he had never seen her like this.

He’s inside.

Charlie’s heart rate accelerated. The blissful morning turned sour, and every passing second felt more serious, the consequences direr. The stakes were higher now. Charlie felt young and inexperienced as she tried to do all the right things.

Nothing prepared her for this. She suspected a man of poisoning her patient. This was a man she had known for weeks, one that she had commiserated with over long nights working on Farrugia’s case. He seemed friendly and helpful. Now, he was dangerous. And he was on the other side of the door, potentially close to another murder attempt.

The moment she heard that Travis was inside, she started walking to the door. Panic clouded her vision until all she saw was Travis and the senator and that door. Turning to Bobby, she said, “Bobby, we need to call the police for a suspected poisoning and attempted murder of a public official.”

Bobby’s face dropped, and wordlessly, he joined her as they barreled for Senator Farrugia’s door. He radioed the call in immediately.

As Charlie twisted the handle, she didn’t notice Raf walk in with them. For a long time, she wondered if she would have stopped him if she would have noticed, but she likely wouldn’t have. And even if she had told him to stay away, he wouldn’t have listened.

The hospital room was calm and quiet, save for Ed Farrugia’s typing on his keyboard. Danny was at the end of the bed, perusing Ed’s chart and making notes in the top corner. Travis was closer to the senator, standing right next to Ed’s bed as he fished through a backpack Charlie had never seen before.

Once the door opened, Charlie’s anxious energy flooded the room, and all three looked to the group in surprise. Everyone was looking at them, but Travis’s eyes stayed on Charlie.

“Dr. Greene?” Danny asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“What’s going on?” Farrugia echoed, pausing his typing.

Charlie didn’t look to either of them because she never dropped Travis’s stare. She watched realization dawn on him, and his brown eyes filled with understanding. He almost seemed to revel in it, like he wanted to stop hiding. Like a curtain falling to reveal the light, cruelty was exposed, and it made Charlie shiver.

At that moment, she had no doubts about Travis.

She knew he was guilty, and she knew he was dangerous.

“Mr. Perry, we would like to speak to you. If you come with us, we can resolve this quickly,” Bobby’s voice was authoritative now. It was a little intimidating, even. Travis didn’t flinch.

“Dr. Greene, are you sure?” he was still looking at Charlie.

She felt disgusted by his attention. He made the question seem intimate, like they were in on some big secret. Never had her name sounded so vile.

“Officer Gunderson asked you to step away from the senator, Travis,” Charlie was firm and her gaze resolved. Travis’s face hardened.

“Why?” Ed asked incredulously. He didn’t like being kept in the dark, and he certainly didn’t like the tension in the room. He had a virtual interview in fifteen minutes, and he didn’t need the distraction.

Travis knew that he had been discovered, so with unreserved harshness, he turned to his long-time boss and answered, “Probably because I’ve been poisoning you.”

As angry as he looked, Travis seemed relieved with his admission. Ed gasped and instinctively jolted away from his aide as he mumbled a weak, “W… what?”

Bobby moved towards Travis just as Ed decided to get away from him. While the senator scrambled out of his bed and hurried towards the door, Bobby held out his hand, expecting to apprehend the young man as he said, “Alright, come with me…”

Travis didn’t even look at Bobby. All he saw was Farrugia running for the door.

In a wild panic, Travis reached inside of his bag to retrieve a black canister, and he brandished it as a weapon, pointing it to each and every person in the room as he demanded, “STOP!”

Everyone obeyed.

They had never seen a canister like that, but the way Travis held it commanded fear and trepidation. It appeared sinister, even from across the room.

Travis looked at them all but mainly Ed as he screamed, “Stand back! I mean it!”

Farrugia, who had almost escaped before Travis’s threat, took one cautious step in the direction of his aide. He didn’t come too close because he wanted the option to run. With his hands up in a pleading gesture, Farrugia urged Travis, “Travis… think about what you’re doing. Please…”

“Think about what I’m doing?” Travis repeated with disbelief, “What do you think I’ve been doing for all these years? From the moment we met, I’ve only been thinking of this.”

Travis waved the canister in Ed’s direction, eyes growing hard as his finger curled around the trigger.

“Travis!” Charlie interrupted, startling him just enough that his grip on the trigger lessened.

She couldn’t hear her thoughts for her heartbeat. She hardly remembered how to speak, let alone what to say. Her eyes kept drifting back to the canister, which was still dangerously aimed in her direction. She felt it watch her, like it was preparing for something horrid.

She felt everyone watch her.

And as Travis granted her his attention, the pressure prickled at her skin.

“This won’t bring your brother back,” Charlie said gently.

“You think I don’t know that?” Travis scoffed, “I will never get my brother back. I’ve lived with that since I was fifteen, and that knowledge destroyed my family. It destroyed my parents, and it destroyed me.”

His finger was back on the trigger, his hand shaking with the concentration needed to keep from pulling it. One slip and they would all find out what made Travis so confident in his weapon.

“Travis, let’s talk about this,” Charlie begged, refusing to look at the canister and instead looking for some sliver of humanity left in her opponent. If she could just find the right words, she could end this.

She could save everyone in this room.

She truly believed she could. Charlie believed in the world. She believed that tragedy and pain had an end. She believed that happy endings could be found if you worked hard enough.

She believed she would walk out of that room traumatized but otherwise unscathed.

She was wrong.

“No,” Travis refused, almost laughing at her, “There’s nothing to talk about. If I leave this room, I’m going to jail, which will be the end of it. And Dr. Greene, you don’t know the details of this story, but I’ll tell you how it ends. Ed Farrugia doesn’t survive.”

Travis surveyed the hospital room. He eyed Farrugia, who was just waiting to be out of his line of sight so he could run. Then, he looked to the four bystanders who had wandered into his plan.

“It’s unfortunate that four others will have to die as well,” Travis mused.

“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Charlie was shaking. Something was breaking inside of her. Maybe it was hope that they could leave this room, or perhaps it was faith in all that was good in the world. She begged for his humanity, but it felt too distant. “Please, you don’t want to hurt us. You don’t even know us. Travis, we have nothing to do with this. And you know you’ll regret it. Please.”

Travis offered a sympathetic shake of the head, “Charlie, you didn’t have to do this. You could have let him die. You know who he is. You know what he does. You know that his policies kill people. Don’t you see that you’re complicit? Not just in what I’m doing but in what he does!” Travis frowned in disgust, “You could have stayed quiet!”

“I couldn’t do that,” Charlie managed, fear gripping her so tight that even small words were shaky and uncontrolled.

She had lost control of herself. She had lost him, too.

Travis shrugged, “I hope your conscience is enough for you, then.”

Everyone knew they were in a final hour, that whatever was coming was so close that it breathed down their neck.

That was why Bobby stepped forward.

“Dr. Greene is right,” Bobby asserted, “Come with me before anyone gets hurt.”

And this was what Charlie lived a thousand times over – until she recounted the sound of Bobby’s step on the linoleum towards Travis and the inhale of Rafael to her side as he held his breath. It was never any less painful to experience the moment before it all unraveled. At best, it was numb. Today though, it was blisteringly agonizing.

Bobby reached for Travis, but his grip wasn’t strong enough. Travis pulled free, and without a thought or a word, he pulled the trigger on the canister. An aerosol gas released in a puff in Bobby’s face. There was a horrible, aching strangling sound as Bobby fell to his knees. He coughed violently, choking on the gas and his own breath. He gargled and thrashed in pain until he was on his back.

Charlie moved towards Bobby, but Danny made it there first. Instinctively, he pressed his fingers to Danny’s artery in his neck. An oily sheen covered Bobby and spread to Danny’s hands.

“Charlie, he’s going into cardiac arrest!” Danny yelled, already beginning the chest compressions.

They didn’t have time, and they didn’t have the equipment. Charlie belatedly realized that she was screaming into the hall for equipment, but she never finished the sentence. She was running to Bobby when she came face to face with Travis, who wielded the canister in her direction. She froze, the words dying on her lips.

“At least I’m not the only one with blood on my hands,” Travis sneered, and he began to pull the trigger.

In the split second before the gas was released, Charlie couldn’t move. There wasn’t time to run, not that she really thought to. Her vision was clouded with tears, but she could see the barrel pointed at her. And for it was worth, she accepted her fate.

She didn’t want to die, but she knew she would.

And for her last thought, she wished she had told Ethan that she loved him.

It wasn’t her last thought, though.

“Ahh!” Charlie cried as she was shoved to the side. She fell to the floor in an uncoordinated heap, and she looked up just in time to see Raf tackle Travis to the ground. They landed with a heavy thud, and Raf scrambled for the canister.

What followed was blind panic.

Gas filled the room as they fought for the canister. It spilled out of their grasp, and spinning in the middle of the room, it coated everyone but Charlie with a layer of oil. Charlie coughed as it infiltrated her lungs, burning and stabbing as it went.

Danny frantically tried to resuscitate Bobby as Raf fought to subdue Travis. Charlie, coughing through the mist, caught Farrugia sprint out of the room and heard Travis scream in response. The scream was guttural and garbled, and it was the worst noise she had ever heard.

Clambering to sit up, Charlie looked around the chaos and tried to find the place to help, but she couldn’t. She was startled still, watching as everything fell apart.

“What was that?” Raf demanded, slamming Travis against the wall.

“I don’t know!” Travis pulled free, only to vomit into the trashcan. Raf raged until he was consumed with a cough.

Danny’s efforts to save Bobby grew weak as both Bobby’s situation grew worse and Danny’s strength gave out. Danny pulled his hands away, examining them, and he breathlessly expressed his horror, “My… my hands are covered… I’m-I’m covered.”

Charlie shielded her eyes from the sight, tears streaming down her face as she hid from the terror and distress of her dear friend.

Her gaze landed on the door, and she knew what she had to do. Crawling on the linoleum, Charlie’s back was to the plight, but she felt it every second. It consumed her. It cemented her and demanded everything until she could give nothing. She couldn’t feel it now. She engrossed herself with her mission and shoved her trauma and her pain and her fear and her guilt out of her mind.

Charlie reached the door just as Ethan could be seen in the window. He walked towards the room with the innocence of a man who didn’t yet know that the world was ending.

Charlie wanted to run to him. She wanted him to save her.

But instead, she slammed the door closed.

Ethan’s confusion settled into surprise and concern, and with each step, he felt it mount. By the time he reached the door, he was terrified. He watched Charlie’s face – stained red from tears and eyes bloodshot. She shook, and he saw her ragged breath as she struggled against a burning cough.

And he pulled on the door handle, but she was holding it shut.

His Charlie.

His Charlie is not okay.

He pulled on the door harder, demanding to be let inside. He had no reasonable thought, only a visceral instinct to protect her and save her from whatever horrors were inside.

“What is going on?” Ethan pulled even harder, but she focused all of her strength in holding that damn door shut, “Let me in, Charlie!”

“Shut down the wing,” Charlie ignored the pain in his eyes. She ignored the way he stared. She ignored that he loved her, and she pretended she didn’t love him to spare herself.

If she opened the gates now, she didn’t know what would come out, and she didn’t know if she could do what needed to be done.

“Charlotte!” he jiggled the handle desperately, banging his hand on the wooden door like it might give way if he tried hard enough.

“Travis has tried to kill the senator with an unknown gas. We have no idea what it is, but Farrugia escaped,” Charlie felt empty as she tried to stay calm. Calm meant ignoring everything, yet she cried. She hesitated, and she almost cracked. She almost fell into the pit and lost herself in the sorrow as she said, “Bobby went into cardiac arrest after getting a blast of it to his face. Danny and Raf have been sprayed with it, and I breathed it in.”

Ethan stopped jiggling the handle, his hand slack.

He didn’t want to understand.

He wanted to break the fucking door down.

“We can’t risk it getting out of this room,” Charlie hadn’t lessened her grip on the door handle. She wasn’t sure if she could. She was bonded to her station. It was all she could do to maintain control.

It was all she could do to try and save someone.

Because the someone didn’t get to be her, or Bobby, or Danny, or Raf.

But it could be Ethan. It could be anyone on this hall.

She had blood on her hands, but it stained less if she could help someone else.

Ethan’s world slipped through his fingers, but he watched her instead. Everything – nor rather nothing… it was gone.

And he ached. He burned. He suffered.

He couldn’t remember kissing her in bed this morning and slipping her out of his apartment before his dad woke. He couldn’t remember making dinner with her or wandering Boston with Charlie on his arm and Jenner on a leash.

He only saw her now. Crying. Sick. And pushing him away.

“You’re right,” Ethan whispered breathlessly and helplessly.

He was broken, and she couldn’t look.

A sob was building in her chest – a body-wracking, heartbreaking, life-changing sob. She swallowed it and fought the air to keep breathing.

In the room, Danny and Travis were vomiting. Raf comforted Danny and glared at Travis. Bobby, perfectly still, was alone now.

Charlie found an air vent, and in it, she found her next distraction. With her back still turned to Ethan, she pointed to the vent and said, “Raf, I need your help to seal that!”

She opened every cupboard until she found plastic and tape, and Raf found a pair of scissors for her to cut it to size. Raf offered her a boost, and he lifted her up to tape it off. Once he let her down, she came face to face with him, and to her surprise, she wanted to scream at him.

She couldn’t believe how fucking irresponsible he had been! What the fuck did he think he was doing endangering himself like that? Why did he have to save her? Why?

But Danny was wheezing, and Charlie didn’t yell at Raf.

Charlie fell to Danny’s side as he leaned back against the hospital bed. His face was ashen white, and every breath was labored and pained. He tried to speak, but the effort was too hard. He only managed to say, “I… I don’t feel…” He paused, and his head fell back.

“It’s okay, Danny,” she whispered and took his pulse. It was weak and slow.

A lump formed in Charlie’s throat, and she squeezed Danny’s hand as she repeated, “It’s okay, Danny.” He weekly squeezed her back.

Charlie had to look away. When she eyed Bobby, she was on the edge of collapse. She felt everything and nothing, and one felt dangerously close to consuming her. Yet, hesitantly, she crawled in his direction.

Before she even touched him, she knew she wouldn’t find a pulse.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t heartbroken when it wasn’t there.

Raf followed her, and after a diligent attempt to find Bobby’s pulse, he grimaced.

They sat in silence, too many words to say to even begin speaking. The finality and grief were palpable.

They hadn’t saved Bobby, and they never would.

Charlie covered her mouth with her hand, holding her breath until the world might make sense again. It never did, and she exhaled in defeat.

Her limbs felt heavy, like a thousand atrocities now sat on them.

She was convinced that the world would never seem the same.

And she wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She couldn’t yet. Maybe not ever.

“Did you get much on you?” Raf asked finally, his eyes still on Bobby.

“Not much,” Charlie answered. She didn’t ask about Raf because she knew he was covered. He was relieved she didn’t mention it.

Charlie looked back to the window, where Ethan was on the phone. Behind him, she could see patients and employees evacuate, and she tentatively met his gaze. Face twisted with sorrow, Charlie nodded solemnly in Bobby’s direction.

Ethan understood, and it knocked the wind of out him.

Bobby was a good man. A colleague and a friend.

And he had been exposed to the same thing Charlie had.

His rookie. His Charlie. No.

Ethan pulled the phone away from his ear, and approaching the glass, he announced that the CDC was on their way.

“You’ll be okay, Charlie,” he promised, and trying not to panic, he affirmed, “All three of you. You’ll be alright.”

He said it because it had to be true.

It had to be.

He couldn’t lose Charlie, not like this. She couldn’t leave him when he’d just found her. This kind of thing doesn’t happen. And it doesn’t happen to her. It doesn’t!

And it won’t. And it won’t hurt her!

Anyone else but her.

He didn’t care if it was the senator. He was sad if it was a colleague. He was pained if it was a friend.

But it wasn’t her.

He didn’t know how to breathe. He didn’t know how to talk. He knew how to work, and he knew he needed to save her. That had to be enough.

His darling, wonderful Charlie.

He told her that she would be alright because it had to be true.

But Charlie didn’t believe him.

note: I probably should have spent more time working on this chapter, but it came out in one emotional sitting so I decided to share it.

tag list:

@honeyandsunfl0wers @jens-diamondchoices @desmaranj @octobereighth @flyawayboo @fanficnewbie @togetherwearerapture @perriewinklenerdie @noboundariesplease @paulfwesley @x-kyne-x @caroldxnvxrs @paisleylovergirl

@chasingrobbie @soft-for-drake @choicesyouplayandmore @crazy-loca-blog @playchoicesheaux @senseofduties @queencarb @save-the-sky @openheart12 @omg-its-vixen @odetomars @rookieoh @drakewalker04 @mysecretlifeofdaydreams @delaytheinevitable

@hopefulmoonobject @malvolari-take-my-soul @nomadics-stuff @the-pale-goddess @schnitzelbutterfingers @trappedinfandoms @heauxplesslydevoted @lilyvalentine @mvalentine @elwetritsche75 @jessirosebud @lion-ess24 @calibuckley @canknot @wonderwithrobin @jooous @eramsey28 @binny1985 @canigetanawwjunk @padfoot15 @ermidc @beastlyinstrument @shanzay44 @dulceghernandez @starrystarrytrouble @lucy-268 @kaavyaethanramsey

@nerdydinosaursweets @blossomanarchy @openheartthot @thegreentwin @akshara16 @aestheticartsx @maurine07 @mysticaurathings @stateofgracious @rookie-ramsey @endless-courtesan @parkerattano

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices #choices stories you play #open heart 2 #angst

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politicaltheatre · 3 years

Text

Depraved Indifference

"I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody, and I wouldn't lose any voters, OK? It's, like, incredible."

- Donald Trump, at a campaign stop at Dordt College, Sioux Center, Iowa, January 23, 2016

This quote didn’t find its way into the second impeachment trial of the now-former President, but it should have. In a better world it would have, but in that better world a man such Donald Trump would not ever have been elected to any office, let alone one as powerful as president. And yet, somehow he was.

Donald Trump is no longer president, something his defenders, standing before the Senate and sitting among the trial’s jury, have taken great pains to try to focus our attention on.

Note how they talk about the importance of “moving on” and getting over it, thereby distancing us and, far more importantly, themselves from what was done.

Note how they try to frame the charge against Trump - “inciting violence against the government of the United States” - as merely “partisan” and “political”, something devoid of any legal justification or standing, as if the crimes were not witnessed by billions around the world in real time.

Note how, when faced with having to face the morally depraved actions they either encouraged or enabled in Trump and those who followed him, and having to defend their own complicity in the indefensible result, they turn to not even a little bit thinly veiled threats against those daring to accuse. Any retribution, they do declare, any continuation of violence against Trump’s declared enemies, that will be on you.

This has all the subtlety and predictability of a trial in the Jim Crow South, and, given the number of Confederate flags waving inside the Capitol on January 6th, that really isn’t too strong a comparison.

Trump, as anyone anywhere in the world even casually paying attention should know, is entirely guilty of inciting that riot. He spent years cultivating doubt in the electoral system, months casting doubt on the 2020 mail-in voting results, and, finally, weeks spreading blatant lies about voting fraud, ones that he continues to tell to this day.

He did all of this while encouraging and enabling exactly the kind of violence done on his behalf that we all saw on the 6th and, as the House impeachment managers have helpfully shown at length, in the days, weeks, months, and years leading up to it.

“Stand back and stand by”, right? The Proud Boys stuck that on t-shirts.

If the videos the House managers have played have failed to persuade, we tell ourselves, perhaps the evidence of Trump’s Defense and Justice departments undermining the Capitol police and National Guard’s response will. How about a timeline of Trump’s fiddling while the Capitol burned and his own Vice President quite literally ran for his life? No? Really?

You don’t need a lot of time to prepare a case when the defendant has been caught, figuratively, thousands of times in the middle of Fifth Avenue with a smoking gun. Trump’s thumbs offered up hundreds of smoking guns to choose from. Videos of his post-election rallies do, too. The ones he posted that day, hours after the breach, calling the men and women hunting “traitors” of both parties and battering Capitol police with American flags “patriots”, well, that’s a prosecutor’s dream. Or should be.

So, yes, he is guilty. Very, very, very guilty.

Ah, but so are at least three of his jury members: Josh Hawley, James Lankford, and Ted Cruz. They all gave credence to Trump’s lies, they all gave weight to those lies by demanding that the Senate investigate them once more and yet again before confirming the election, and that day they all cynically and repeatedly called for the rejection of President-elect Joe Biden’s victory. Well, Hawley and Cruz did; Lankford was trying to when he was evacuated.

They were no less guilty of trying to profit from the misplaced and misguided rage of those storming the Senate chamber than Trump, and, if the rioters’ own social media accounts are to be believed, Hawley and Cruz at the very least were no less accountable for them being there. Lankford, it seems, needs to up his social media game.

Those three senators, of course, are not on trial. They are merely jurors charged with deciding the guilt or innocence of Donald Trump for doing what they did themselves. They will be joined in their guaranteed “No” votes by at least 41 other Republican senators who, like them, once again voted to claim that, despite over 200 years of clear legal precedent, this impeachment trial is “unconstitutional”.

It’s no shock that the House managers’ detailed legal history lesson fell on deaf ears, nor is it that those three and other Trump Republicans were caught “reading” during the presentation of evidence. Rand Paul, whose own ridiculous claims about the election and trial have been followed by threats of retaliation, was caught doodling like teen stuck in detention.

This, not anything said by Trump’s crack legal team, is the argument for the defense: they know what Trump did, they know it was wrong, they know what they’re doing, and they know that’s wrong, too. And they do not care. They do not care.

These aren’t stupid people, they’re just dishonest. More specifically, they’re corrupt. What they believe, what they take as a matter of faith, is that they’ll face no real consequences for anything they’re doing or anything they’ve done.

And who’s to tell them they’re wrong? What’s the worse Hawley or Cruz will face? Censure? You can’t shame the shameless. They’ll wear their censures the same way Trump would, as a badge of courage on which they can raise campaign money and, they hope, draw out votes from Trump’s millions of rabidly loyal supporters.

For Hawley, Cruz, and others already campaigning for 2024, that’s all that matters. For them, this is just an opportunity, a means to an end, as they pursue their highly profitable careers in politics. It’s just business. For them, Trump, and every other one in Congress, on TV, and on social media who chose to ignore what people might do if they lied to them and wound them up, and for all of those choosing to ignore the consequences of it now, that’s all this is: just business.

And that’s the problem.

Politics shouldn’t be a business. We know that without even having to be told. When we talk about it, we do so in terms of “service” and “doing one’s duty”, words and phrases that romanticize the selfless nature we want to see in our politics and our politicians. We don’t just do that because that’s how we’ve always heard it spoken of, we do that because we know that the ones who embody that ideal are rare. There’s just too much evidence to deny it.

Go back far as you want, there have been men and women seeking power for the purpose of defending themselves and their friends from accountability. Back in the day, they sought appointments through connections or simply joined the clergy. These days, they run for office.

The political party in this country that currently stands against accountability is the Republican Party. Sure, the Democratic Party has its own sizable share of complicity for allowing the country’s drift into right-wing aggressive selfishness, but, lucky for us, it hasn’t been able to rid itself of its accountable members the way the Republican Party has. Of course, that’s only natural, given the importance of accountability to the political Left.

The last two Republican presidents were elected in no small part because they had a background in business. Yes, they each ran their businesses into the ground, but they ran them.

George W. Bush came into office as a “corporate” president, one who would, we were assured, delegate to those more experienced and skilled in areas where he was…lacking. We waved away his inadequacies and were somehow shocked when he failed in exactly every one of those areas. Still, he and his friends made money hand over fist, so the corporate presidency was good for business, big business, in particular, which got a big bailout.

Donald Trump should have inspired even less confidence, but confidence man that he is, he played enough suckers to get him in the White House. As much pain, suffering, and death as he has caused in four excruciatingly long years, he and his cronies have made out like gangbusters, too. The government they were hired to manage, not so much.

From the start, he and his cabinet secretaries lived by the old rule, “it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to get permission”. Not that they asked for forgiveness. That’s for losers. They broke laws, fleeced taxpayers, and resigned knowing that whatever penalty they might face would pale compared to the profits they took with them.

This is the mentality that drives corporate decision making around the world. For them, the adage is a bit more like, “better to settle a lawsuit than risk profits”. They, too, avoid apologies whenever possible. That keeps the damages paid to to victims and their families lower.

Currently, there are companies selling cars, drugs, baby food, and other products that they know are defective and a threat to the people using them. They know this. They know there’s a high risk that people will die, and they do it anyway. Instead of recognizing the threat and stopping, they do cost-benefit analyses to determine the number of deaths from their products they can afford.

This, it’s worth stating, is not capitalism. We may tell ourselves that it is, but that’s just us looking for an easy answer, a scapegoat for our own failures. In fact, this pattern was just as common under communism, too; just ask anybody who used to live near Chernobyl. Mistakes are hidden, a given number of deaths are accepted, and the perception of success and prestige is maintained.

This is corruption, and deaths and suffering caused by a lack of accountability are what corruption does. A death is a symptom, a great, big red flag, something to tell you that something is very, very, very wrong, but how many of those red flags do we see and ignore before we finally stop to ask what it is we’ve been seeing?

How many smaller red flags, such as poverty, racism, anti-semitism, police brutality, injustice, and sexual abuse, do we pass because we’ve just become so used to seeing them? Do we tell ourselves that there is nothing we can do? Do we even ask if there is anything we can do? Or do we, as so many senators are now preparing to do, instead embrace corruption as a virtue.

This is the real threat, a system that accepts this and holds no one accountable, and a culture that pushes back against demands for accountability, embracing the very worst of who we are and what we can do to others just to prove that we can. The result is a flood of childish acting out and a loss of trust in products and services that we must be able to trust because they are supposed to keep us safe.

Is this as great a threat to our society as the January 6th attack on the Capitol? This is that attack. The product failures that led to the attack were political. We have watched as our political and government institutions have failed. We have watched as those entrusted to deliver a product that works and keeps us safe have, again and again, deliberately or not, betrayed that trust. As with any other product sold, each breach of trust carries over into the next, accumulating and compounding, eroding not just our ability to trust those products but all products like them.

Think of the doubts Americans have about the safety of vaccines? Sure, we can chalk that down to internet conspiracy theories and echo chambers if we like, but would they have gained the traction they have in a world in which we weren’t inundated with ads featuring paid-non-attorney-spokespersons asking us if we or a loved one took this drug or that and had experienced one or more life threatening side effects? How many of us heard about the Covid-19 vaccines and asked, How long before we see the ads for that?

For decades, we have allowed ourselves to become a nation of beta-testers, taking on the cost and burden of quality control that the companies releasing and profiting from these products, and these class action lawsuits have become big business as a result. Every new pharmaceutical product that hits the shelves, part of us is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Time and the success of these vaccines should put an end to that, at least for this pandemic, but that we have to do so should tell us about the work we have to do to repair our society, or to build one that can exist without absolving us from being accountable to each other.

Until then, we have other kinds of corruption to face, including one that may be more destructive than anything we’re seeing in the Senate this week.

The Reddit-GameStop insurrection might have been fun to watch from the sidelines, a bit of schadenfreude for those of us on the outside of Wall Street, looking in, but the truth is the hedge fund villains still made their money, and the systemic fault lines this episode exposed should have us all scared and paying attention.

Our economy is overly concentrated in Wall Street’s product and therefore overly dependent on its success and stability. A loss of faith in its product has been underway for years. That’s how you get to day traders trying to take on hedge funds the way they did. This wasn’t David vs Goliath, this was guerrilla warfare over who gets to make the quick and easy profits.

The upside of that is that some of the “little guys” seem to win something; the downside of that is that it does nothing to fix the problems we have with Wall Street. Rather, it only makes them worse, by highlighting how easy it is to manipulate stocks and commodities and how few get to do it and get away with it.

What happens, then, when no one has any faith left in Wall Street? What happens when everyone believes it is nothing more than a casino designed to take money rather than make it?

Well, we’re almost there. We have a massive, growing online gambling industry, and with it an online gambling problem. Sports leagues, some with their own recent histories of cheaters (and worse) getting away with it, have turned their own fans onto gambling as part of the sport. How many of these people, blowing their money on bad beats, think of it as no different than investing on Wall Street stocks?

A better question: What happens to all of those stock prices when everyone, including the crooks on Wall Street, lose faith in that system, take their profits, and leave? An even better question: What happens if they do that all at once?

The answer is: Lost jobs, pensions, food and housing security, and hope.

In other words, 2020 on steroids. That’s what you get with corruption, an environment in which politicians like Donald Trump, companies willing to harm consumers, and right wing domestic terrorists thrive. As long as they aren’t held accountable, they will.

“Bad for the country”, indeed.

- Daniel Ward

#impeachment #corruption #politics #depraved indifference #aggressive selfishness #Donald Trump #josh hawley #ted cruz #james lankford #mitch mcconnell #lindsey graham #republicans #democrats #january 6th #insurrection #long reads #long read

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pochiperpe90 · 4 years

Text

Luca Marinelli: "Without growing you get lost"

When director Pietro Marcello asked him to play Martin Eden in his film in competition at Venice, Luca Marinelli was moved. "Many things have changed in recent years, maybe me as well"

From written words to moving images: «When you make a film based on a book, the book, at a certain point, tends to overlap. You no longer know what the novel is and what the screenplay is. Today I remember the end of Jack London's Martin Eden: that poignant conclusion, with him in the cabin reading that poem and deciding about his life».

Luca Marinelli, star of Pietro Marcello's Martin Eden, in competition at the next Venice International Film Festival and in theatre from September 4th with 01 Distribution, brings together memories and emotions, and gives them a precise order: everything starts from there, from the novel by the American writer.

"What was the soul of the book, which in my opinion is above any kind of discourse, political, social and idealistic; that soul, I said, was respected. Because it’s embodied in the character of Martin Eden. And then when you translate a book into a film it happens that some things take another form: it's normal in an adaptation." In the case of this film, says Marinelli, it all started from Marcello's point of view, from his vision: "Which perhaps is not like what someone else can have or like mine, because it’s a vision that belongs to the director: it’s the vision of the artist Pietro Marcello. The first scripts were certainly different, they were longer, denser, full of references to the book. The very first, if I'm not mistaken, was nearly 300 pages long. And this is because we were dealing with a masterpiece, and we didn't want to leave out anything».

Could this film be different?

“No, this film is how it was supposed to be. But with a book like this you can do anything: a 12-hours play, a film, a short film. Martin Eden is one of the best books ever written. Cinema imposes different times and measures from written narration; the balance that Pietro and Maurizio Braucci, co-screenwriter, found and the work they did were excellent, in my opinion".

Let's start with when they proposed you the role of Martin Eden.

“I remember my tears as I was watching “Bella e perduta”; I remember my emotion, and I also remember that immediately after I finished watching it I told myself that it would be nice to work with this director. It was 2015. Three years later they call me, and they tell me that Pietro Marcello wanted to meet me. Imagine my happiness. Knowing, then, that this film would be born from Jack London's book moved me even more».

What convinced you to accept?

«Martin Eden is a human being of great sensitivity, great curiosity and great empathy; he has an enormous desire to discover, to see, to touch with his hand. However, he suffers countless disappointments. He climbs a mountain only to learn, once he reaches the top, that a sad camp resides there, and that the best thing was never to get there, to the goal, but perhaps the very start. The journey".

And was it difficult to make this journey?

“It's a question that I have asked myself too, and the answer I have given myself is both yes and no. No, because being next to Pietro, Maurizio, colleagues and all the people who collaborated on the film, I found the right push and the right support to get into the character. But the difficulties, of course, are always there. What I really wanted to understand was Martin Eden. I abandoned myself to the first sensation I had while reading the book and the screenplay».

What was that feeling?

"A gigantic emotion. This character speaks directly to each of us because everyone shares something with him. Each of us wants to do, to exist. To reach a goal. Only then we come up against obstacles that make us lose hope - in part or in whole».

But when did the spark go off?

“I've always been passionate about writers like London or Stevenson. Adventurers, capable of creating worlds, of giving life to characters with their eyes open to the society around them. Entering a life like that, a life where the sea is so present, a life made of traveling, of seeing, made of pure passion, intrigued me a lot. And then there was Naples".

Compared to Jack London's book, Pietro Marcello's film is a rewrite set in the Neapolitan capital.

“I had never lived all this time in Naples; and I had never known it so much. I have not yet been able to fully understand it; not completely. Naples is a place apart. I have come to love it. Naples is a whole people. Something fantastic. It’s a place with a huge identity. A very strong identity. Think of the language: it’s not a dialect, it’s a language. And then you meet people who make you realize how beautiful it is to be Neapolitan: how welcoming it is, how fascinating it is, how deep it is. Naples, for me, was a great discovery».

Is sensitivity a condemnation?

"I don’t know. On one hand, yes, it can make you suffer more. But I wouldn't see it as a sentence. Sensitivity allows you to see the world; it leads you to respect what is around you».

But it also brings loneliness with it.

«Martin Eden distances himself from everything and from himself: he can no longer be in contact with anything or anyone, he is disappointed».

In this film, the clash between the class of intellectuals and the so-called people also finds space.

"I think that the true intellectual, like Pasolini was, manages to put himself on the same level as the society, to look at it in the eye, to speak to the common man without being opinionated, just showing what is there: what is happening".

At one point, you find yourself sharing the scene with Carlo Cecchi, who plays Russ Brissenden.

«I was very excited because I found my teacher. And it was great to be with him there, on the set, more than six years after we had last acted together."

You said you got excited

“Because in the film he plays Martin Eden's mentor, and Carlo was a mentor to me too. It was a real gift”.

How many things have changed over the years?

"Many."

And you? Have you changed as an actor?

“I don't know, I swear. But maybe I was better before (laughs)».

What do you mean?

"I started with the theater, where there is no safety net, there is no" stop, let's do it again!" and there is no possibility to stop, start over, rethink. I miss that courage».

Is theater a torment or an obsession?

"It’s never a torment or an obsession. Sometimes at night, however, I dream of going on stage and not remembering anything anymore».

Perhaps it’s today's cinema that tends to be not very brave.

«In my opinion it’s experiencing a new period. And it’s not a coincidence that Marcello's Martin Eden arrives right now, in this moment. Surely we could give a voice to many more people. Even that, if you like, is a question of courage».

Martin Eden also speaks of talent and perseverance. What is more important, in your opinion?

“They go hand in hand. Talent is the first thing you see. It’s the primordial spark. But you can't just rely on that. You have to be curious, eat life, live it to the fullest, intensely and consciously. But to live it, one must also commit oneself: and one must be prepared».

You need to read.

«For me a book is always a victory. Because you have been elsewhere and have lived a story that is different from yours."

What kind of reader are you?

“I wouldn't call myself an avid reader: but the more I grow, the older I get, the older I get and the more I read. Because I am more and more aware of how beautiful it is».

Reading isn’t just a hobby.

"Thoreau says: "As if you could kill time without injuring eternity". It’s important not to waste time; but it’s important to do it without causing anguish or fear. You have to be there, stay there, live in the moment. But without exaggerating».

When you were younger - when you were a child - what were you like?

“I've always been surrounded by curious people. Even my friends, the ones I had as a child and the ones I still have now, are curious. We liked to move, to go around, to be together; we lived the street. We also enjoyed listening to music, reading comics and books, and watching movies."

And curiosity soon turned into fascination.

“Acting has always fascinated me. And only at a certain point did I manage to find the right courage to try. And I don't know why: I really don't know. In the Academy this phrase was always repeated: “play seriously”. And maybe was this that interested me; or not".

We talked about teachers. Who were they to you?

«People like Carlo Cecchi or Anna Marchesini. They were moments, very important meetings».

How did you come in contact with Marchesini?

"We studied with her for three months at the Academy, and it was wonderful because for the first time I wrote something of my own. Each of us, each of the students, had to write something about himself, starting from his identity card - this was the initial task. And it was, believe me, very difficult».

What impressed you about her?

"The energy, the dedication, the beauty. I remember the moments with her, the wonderful phrases she said. What has always fascinated me to see was the passion she put into it».

Other teachers?

"My grandfather. I always liked the job he did: he was a carpenter. In the academy they told us many times: "you have to be a craftsmen". And I was always thinking of him».

What, in the end, do you have left of Martin Eden?

«The sense of collectivity. Passion. The importance of looking around. To always look at others and at themselves. The adventure of life, and the wonder it represents. What deeply tears Martin Eden apart is betraying himself and being disappointed in his own dreams. We can fight against this only if we are faithful to ourselves, to our beliefs, to our places of origin. And then, you know, all the rest remains: remains all that world».

VANITY FAIR

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #Interview #old interview #Martin Eden #Vanity Fair #English #english translation

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willsimpforazula · 3 years

Text

Sokkla Month Day 27/28: Angst/Fluff

A/N: Song is Oath Sign by LiSA, English translation from Amalee's cover.

PS: Fate has some killer OPs.

PPS: I blame my laziness on being too engrossed in Seiba fanfics.

Anywho...bone apple tea or somthing liek dats

------

繰り返す世界何度手を伸ばしたら

儚い涙は黒い心溶かすの?

芽生え出した思いが胸に響いたなら

君の隣でずっと変わらず護るだろう

Once again I reach my hand into a world, repeating on end

Though it's dark, could my tears carve a path and lead me right into your heart?

Like a rose it blooms and grows inside my chest you're name's all it knows

Is this fate, 'cuz every day I pray that by your side I can stay

The first time they met, it was in an abandoned town in some forgotten corner of the Earth Kingdom. From then on, they sought to find out everything and anything they could on each other.

Every piece of information, every scrap of rumours and sightings was held tightly to their chest, blooming and growing as each of them kept tabs on the other as best they could. When asked, they casually dismissed it as 'research on the enemy', though both of them knew they weren't fooling anyone. After all, research most certainly did not include figuring out each other's likes and dislikes, as if one were to be inviting the other over for some afternoon tea.

-------

堕ちた希望を拾って明日に繋いでゆけば

絡まった歪な願いだってほどける

I'll gather these fallen flowers, the hope discarded and broken

And join them where they can meet, my wish is to set them free

"Are you sure about this?"

"More than I've ever been."

"What if your sister…"

"If she wanted to, she would have done it a long time ago."

"Regardless, I don't like it one bit. Not after what she did to-to-"

"You were just itching for an excuse to bloodbend me no matter what I said or did, even after helping you track down your mother's killer. But yes, please lecture me on what your brother can and cannot do."

"That was different."

"I fail to see the differences."

"......"

"Everyone deserves a second chance. Killing her doesn't solve anything. Or taking her bending away. Your brother is the only one who can get through to her. Not me, not the therapists. I just want her to be whole again, free from Ozai's influences."

"If she ever so much as hurts a hair on him, she is dead, consequences be damned and you won't stop me. Understand?"

"Be my guest."

-----

光をかざして躊躇いを消した

あげたかったのは未来で

泣いてる夜抱いたまま嘆きを叫んで

踏み入れた足を遠くの理想がそっと癒してゆく

確かな絆を強く握り進もうどこまでも

穢れきった奇跡を背に

Holding up the light within and with no hesitation,

To give you a future is all I wanted

Hold me tight through the dark endless nights, as I scream till the morning' s light

All my broken down ideals, I know they will heal

With every step they'll form the future

I'll hold tightly to this special bond we share, I'll follow you anywhere

Carrying onwards bearing this miracle

"Why are you here?"

"I-well, I-"

"Answer me, brother of Katara. Why do you come day after day? Is it because you wish to rub my defeat in my face? Or are you here to make me feel comfortable with my executioner? Answer me."

"It's neither of these."

"Lies."

"I'm not lying, princess."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"This. Pretending to be my friend, offering empty words. I don't need any of these."

"That's where you're wrong. Your brother-"

"Is weak and an imbecile for letting me live."

"Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you."

"If the roles were reversed you would have been executed on the spot, after a long torture session that would make death seem like a release."

"I doubt that."

"What would you know of my methods?"

"Because I know deep down inside there is still that spark inside of you. You are only the way that you are because frankly your parents were shit."

"You know nothing!"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Pulling out a dossier, he slid it across to her.

"What is this?"

"Know thy enemy, know thyself and you will win a hundred battles. Call it a hunch, call it a brother's intuition. Besides, if you really wanted me dead I would have been killed, I don't know, about twenty times over before we got to this point?"

"Fuck off Sokka, I don't want to see your face for the rest of the month."

"Keep telling yourself that missy." he smirked, even as a fireball whizzed dangerously close to his head.

"My my, someone's rusty."

"Fuck you you no good piece of shit savage!" she snarled, even as he moved out of earshot. Sometimes, she thought, it was better to not meet one's idol after all.

------

創られた想い触れればなによりも

温かくて現実が霞み始める

狂い出した世界に問いかけ続けても

答えなんて出ないってもう君は知っていたの?

泣いて滲んだ願いは決して揺るぎはしなくて

ただそっと痛みを終わりなく与える

Once again I hope I can regain the warmth that's ahead, and I pray these fake feelings will blur

As the world starts to fade away

Even if I lose my grip and set this question free from my lips,

I won't be surprised to know no answer will come from the light

This wish that was born from our tears, I know it'll never waver

I won't forget the pain even as we forge on ahead

"Crown Princess Azula, you are hereby relieved of all titles save your status as a princess and are forbidden from entering Caldera without prior permission from the Fire Lord himself. You are to be placed under house arrest on Ma'inka for the rest of your days. All communication will be vetted and censored and any attempt at inciting rebellion will result in your bending being stripped away as your only warning. The next attempt will result in public capital punishment. Do you understand?"

"I hear and obey."

"One question."

"Go ahead."

"Why spare me? Why let me live with my bending, knowing that it will be more trouble than it's worth?"

"It seems you have an advocate high in the system that petitioned on your behalf. Any more questions?"

"None."

"You have twenty four hours to prepare, starting now. I suggest you make full use of this time."

Why did you do it? Sokka you stupid fucking idiot, I'm a fucking liablity here. I really hope you don't regret it, she thought to herself.

---

Dear Suki,

I know what you're thinking. Believe me, sometimes I wonder if it's easier to just let her die or languish in some asylum for the rest of her days. But, well, I don't think I'll ever sleep easy at night knowing that perhaps I could have done something to save her.

I know with every sentence I write, I'm essentially digging my own grave. And frankly, I don't blame you. After all she did throw you into the Fire Nation's Supermax. I won't pretend her hands are clean, that she didn't know what she was doing but still, I think everyone deserves a second chance.

I'm sorry.

Sorry for leading you on all this while.

Sorry for making you think we had a future together.

Sorry for making you wait so long before I came to save you.

Most of all, sorry for giving what is rightfully yours to someone who probably doesn't deserve it.

I know that you'd most likely hop on the next boat and drag my corpse back to Caldera so you can beat the shit out of me one more time but please, whatever happens, your happiness isn't with me.

PS: Katara was just as livid when I told her about it. Also, I hear Zuko is single and ready to mingle (probably not the latter; spirits know he has the social skills of a turtleduck, which is to say none).

---------

哀しみを知って喜びを知った弱さは君を変えて

立ち止まった時剥がれすべてを壊した

Only knowing of sadness

Never thought I could feel this

But now I know what is pure happiness

Time stops still, taking your breath away

So rip from weakness and escape

Standing on the bridge, the glowing lights of Caldera grew ever fainter until it was a distant white speck on the horizon, before it finally sank beneath the horizon. Under the light of the stars and moon, the vessel was illuminated by the moonlight and the bioluminescent blue algae crashing against the bow of the ship. It seemed ironic that a vessel that carried her off two years with the promise of greatness and glory would now be carrying her off to obscurity and exile.

"Here, wear this. Wouldn't want you getting a cold now?"

"Why?" she whispered, a stray tear falling from her eyes as she felt a coat placed on her shoulders.

"Why what?"

"Why do all of this? For me? For someone who doesn't deserve this?"

"Because no one stood up for you when they should have."

"You shouldn't have. You deserve your happy ever after with Suki, not a lifetime of pain and regret with me."

"Maybe. Maybe it's all for nothing and I deserve a lifetime of pain and regret for being an idiot. But if I'm being honest, the times I sparred with you were the times I felt most alive. Like as if I finally found what I've been seeking for all this while."

"This is a massive gamble you're taking, betting it all like this."

"What can I say? It almost worked on the Day of the Black Sun. It worked out on the day of Sozin's Comet."

"What makes you think you can save me from myself? More to the point, why do you think I want to be saved to begin with? Until you can give me a satisfactory answer, don't come and look for me." she replied.

Just as she was about to disappear into the ship, she heard him mutter "Because you deserve to be happy too."

------

届くはずのない言葉を託して見えた瞳は

何を感じて遠ざけるの? 心隠すように

今ここにいる意味教えてくれたなら

強くいられる変わらずいつも

I keep screaming out to you though I may never reach you,

But still I can picture the light in your eyes

Tell me what makes you so afraid that you'd hide your heart away

If only you'd turn to to me and say the words that would give my life meaning

Then I would and will forever be strong enough

Ducking into her room, Azula cried into her pillow, as she asked if this was one of fate's twisted ironies dealing her a hand that seemed too good to be true. Monsters don't need saving, they need to be put down. You don't deserve him.

Shut up!

You know it's true.

What's stopping him from betraying you? Or has your adolescent heart fallen for him that you would excuse any of his actions?

Shut up!

I could go on. Do you want me to?

No, stop please!

Azula!

Suddenly, she felt a pair of hands embracing her in a tight hug, making her gasp. It was warm, familiar and comforting. At once, the voices in her mind stilled, as the other person called out her name tenderly, like a parent with a lost child. Instinctively she knew it was Sokka, yet she kept her eyes screwed shut lest it all turn out to be a figment of her imagination.

After all, she had once hallucinated her mother talking to her on the day of Sozin's Comet when she was obviously nowhere near her room, much less Caldera or the Palace.

In a small still voice, she asked "Is-is it really you Sokka?", to which she felt a gentle pressure of his lips on her forehead and a response "Can hallucinations do this?"

"I don't know anymore. Please, don't lie to me."

"Open your eyes."

"No, what if it's all just my hallucinations?"

Another kiss.

"Still not convinced?"

"No."

Scooping up her hands in his, he pressed it against his chest and cheeks before asking her "Are you convinced now?"

In response, she buried her face in his shoulder, this time sobbing loudly as emotion overtook her senses. Meanwhile, Sokka just held her wordlessly, stroking her hair and back. When she finally stilled, he placed her on the bed and tucked her in. Before he left, she asked "Do you mean it?"

"?"

"What you said on the bridge, that I deserve to be happy too, even after all I've done?"

"Yes."

---------

光をかざして躊躇いを消した

あげたかったのは未来で

泣いてる夜抱いたまま嘆きを叫んで

踏み入れた足を遠くの理想がそっと癒してゆく

確かな絆を強く握り進もうどこまでも

迷いなんて目を開いて

振り払って手を伸ばそう

穢れきった奇跡を背に

Holding up the light within and with no hesitation,

To give you a future is all I wanted

Hold me tight through the dark endless nights, as I scream till the morning' s light

All my broken down ideals, I know they will heal

With every step they'll form the future

I'll hold tightly to this special bond we share, I'll follow you anywhere

No hesitating I'll open my eyes, though my heart's breaking

I'll reach out my hand and carry onwards

Bearing this miracle

15 years later….

"No no no Sokka you can't do this! You promised!" Azula screamed as she held his battered body in her hands.

"I-I'm sorry, firefly. I guess I was in over my head a little, huh?" he coughed, blood and spit staining the floor and her dress.

"I-we-don't have much time. There's someone else you need to protect."

"You're my only anchor to sanity Sokka! You can't."

Grabbing the nearest sheet of paper, Sokka wrote down a short message, before tearing off his necklace and dipping in it his blood, before pressing it into the paper like a seal.

"T-that should be enough, I think."

"Sokka please stop saying things like these! Our kid needs a father! She needs you! I need you!"

"Then I'm a terrible father if I can't protect those whom I love. Please, go now."

"Sokka!"

"Remember what I said on the bridge that night we left Caldera?"

"Yes, but don't you deserve happiness too?"

"Being with you these past fifteen years made me happy enough, so please, for the sake of yours and hers, go now while you still have the time."

"You're just one swordsman and a non-bender, how-"

"I have my ways. Seriously please, grab this and go! Every second we argue here is one second less you have to escape!"

"Alright, fine! But I better see you in Caldera, or else! I'll be damned if I let Risa grow up without a father."

"I'll try."

"No 'try', you will. Promise me Sokka."

"As you wish, firefly."

----

Present day

"Mommy, where are we going?"

"We're going to see daddy, Riri."

"Going to see daddy?"

"Yes, that's right." she replied as she stepped into the small shrine.

Turning her head and looking around, Risa could only see plaques with names and faces, but not a single person. Tugging on her mother's sleeve, she asked "Where's daddy? Why are we here?"

Scooping her up into her arms, she pointed at a plaque that bore his name and face, as well as a jet black sword encased in stone. "That-" she pointed, "is daddy."

At once, things clicked her mind and she asked the obvious "Is-is daddy gone?"

"No, no he isn't. Because he's in you and me. As long as someone remembers him, he will never be gone."

"Really?"

"Really."

Pulling out a handful of joss sticks, she asked Risa "Could you light this for me?" Nodding, she conjured a small green flame on her fingertips and lit the incense. Handing over three of the six sticks in her hands, both mother and daughter bowed twice, before placing it in the urn. Finally, Azula unwrapped a packet of seal jerky and placed it as an offering on the altar, before bowing again and taking her daughter by the hand to leave the place.

As they did, she could feel a burden being lifted from her shoulders as they crossed the threshold and just for a moment, she thought she could smell the ocean breeze and smoke, twin scents that reminded her so much of the boy, no, man who threw it all aside for her.

"I promise Sokka, I'll make sure Risa here grows up happy and healthy." she whispered to herself.

#sokkla #sokkla month #day27/28 #angst/fluff

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the-soupiest-artist · 3 years

Text

Legend of Zelda: Lost and Found

Chapter 2: Choosing to Follow the Call

This series of fics contains spoilers for SOH! You have been warned!

Also thank you to all who have been supporting me through this endeavor!! This wonderful story wouldn’t have happened without the beautiful minds of @s-kinnaly and @ridersoftheapocalypse

~~~~~~~~

A quiet hum filled the courtyard of the palace, as the citizens of the grand capital started to fill the courtyard, and as the people gathered the quiet hum, turned into quiet singing. What was at first a small gathering turned into a choir of Healer and Hylian voices. All singing, waiting to see their chosen leader.

The singing never ceased even in the grand hall of the palace. The walls lined with the elders of each district, each one singing, waiting for the leader and her family to enter. As the side curtains to the main hall parted, the singing seemed to crescendo as the three daughters of Orlaithe entered. All dressed in white and gold but each had their own accented color.

The eldest daughter present, Lilija. Dressed with accents of a cool purple. Her jewelry and flower details shimmering with an almost iridescent shimmer and complimented her brown curls. The youngest, Camelia, accented in a mixture of bright fuchsia and soft pink, her reddish hair dotted with her patron flower, Camelia. Finally, the Leader entered. The middle child and 3rd child of Orlaithe. Amaryllis, Her black ringlets under control and pulled up into her gold crown. Her dark indigo waste scarves flowing down to the floor, much like the statue of Din.

The elders bowed, their singing didn’t falter, the stone-faced leader outstretching her arms towards the crowded hall. The oldest of the elders, Sister Zillah, stepping forward. The other elders following, they all met in the back of the hall, Sister Zillah ahead of them, and in her aged freckled hands sat Akane’s Token. The necklace was gold, as was the color of the healers and of the divine goddesses who breathed them into existence. A beautiful green gem, set in the center of the gold metal of Akane’s Token, glinted in the light streaming through the curtains of the hall. Amaryllis stepped down from the marble platform she was standing on, meeting Zillah in the center of the hall. The Sister smiled and before her frail hands dropped the token into The Leader’s hands, she leaned in a whispered, “es deveenes weorkin behere fores netortum tore cheorsere hera.”

The goddesses would be fools not to choose her

As the gentle touch of cold metal fell into Amaryllis’s palms, the leader nodded. Her eyes still cold and serious, as Amaryllis turned around and went back to the platform, the line of elders parted, yet they did not hug the walls as closely as before, instead, they lined the aisle.

The double doors to the great hall opened, three young girls, entered. Each represented the golden goddesses, all of them dressed with their patron colors. As they walked down the aisle, each girl tossed a handful of colorful petals on the aisle. The girl representing Din, throwing petals of red. Nayru, petals of deep blue, and the girl adoring the green of Farore sprinkled her green leaves and flower petals. The young girls bowed towards the leaders as they came to the end of the great hall, the group giggling quietly to themselves and lining up against the wall. One of the elders, Oryn, shaking his head with a smile as he continued singing with his brethren, knowing the girl dressed in blue was his daughter and probably started the giggling.

Entering last, was the chosen girl. The one whose entrance everyone anticipated. Stepping into the dim hall, Mara. Dressed beautifully in the garments Camelia designed and crafted for her.

Her palms sweaty, and nervous. The outside much more graceful than the inside, Mara felt like she was going to puke. She wanted to run by GODS RUNNING AWAY SOUNDED SO MUCH MORE FUN THAN THIS

ANYTHING BUT THIS

But it was her duty….what would her mother say?? She was doing this for her, and her family. As she continued to walk down the aisle Mara couldn’t help but miss her parents.

The warm smile of her mother and the strong hugs and words of affirmation she used to give. Her father’s kind but determined voice telling her that she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. She missed them….she wished they were here, encouraging her..telling her that everything would be just fine.

She thought all these things to herself, then stopping at the platform her aunts looking down at her with so much pride and hope. Mara knelt as Leader Amaryllis started whispering the sacred prayer, Akane’s token held high above her head as the words of blessing in their native tongue were whispered on her lips.

Amaryllis finally unhooking the clasp and attaching it around Mara’s neck her aunt tilted her chin up by her fingers with a proud smile. “I’m so very proud of you,” Amaryllis whispered.

Amaryllis was never one for feelings of any kind. So when Mara heard those words and saw her smile, she knew her Aunt was telling the absolute truth. Mara did well.

In fact, she did very well!!

That approving gaze and smile was all she needed to make her believe, for that moment, that she was ready for this weight that seemed to settle on her as soon as the little necklace hung around her neck.

As Mara rose from her kneeling, Amaryllis composed herself as if that split moment of actual emotion was never there presenting her nice before the eyes of their goddesses and people. “GREAT COUNCIL OF OUR PEACEFUL NATION!” Leader Amarylis’s commanding voice boomed, “I PRESENT TO YOU OUR CHOSEN LEADER! MAY THE GODDESSES LIGHT HER PATH WITH COURAGE, WISDOM, AND POWER!”

Amaryllis raised her arms to her court as Mara stood before the council with her head lifted high, although her eyes flickered with anxiety.

“AND WHEN HER TIME COMES MAY THE GODDESSES CHOOSE HER TO CARRY OUR PEOPLE INTO A BRIGHTER FUTURE!” The council cheered in response, “WE ACCEPT HER SHOULD THE GODDESSES CHOOSE HER!! LONG MAY SHE REIGN!” ~~~ The party and celebration went on without a hitch! Camelia got very drunk and ended up staying the night at some unknowing suitor’s home, which was not surprising to any of the family.

Amaryllis went to bed as soon as making the required appearance was met. She wasn’t a fan of parties, or rather any fun for that matter.

Lilija made sure everything went according to plan after Amarylis went to bed, she even straightened out the beginnings of a drunken fight between a Hylian and a Healer. Lilija of course escorted the Healer to the infirmary while she healed the Hylian instantaneously with her magic. Although it seemed all the authority had excused themselves to other matters the celebrating did not stop, even the guard was off duty and spent their time drinking laughing, and singing harvesting songs with tankards in hand. The same songs their ancestors, and even the people still sang today while harvesting their herbs from the hanging farmland built into the side of the mountainous valley the Healer Capital was birthed in.

As Mara laid in her bed the echoes of joyful singing rang in her head as she drifted off to sleep with a smile. Although she was forced to socialize without Link by her side, she still had a good time. Which she spent in the courtyard of the palace, watching the dancers and various magical shows of the many other talented citizens of the city.

Her head full of good dreams and the Healer CIty went to sleep for the night, all windows dark and the mood shining at its full beauty, there was an unsettling air that started to settle, even Din’s fiery light flickered and went out as the winds of change kicked up and swept through the palace or more specifically in the room of their newly Chosen. The call

There it was again…

Like a beautiful call to war, or an eery temptation the sound echoed and interrupted the slumber Mara had just started to drift into. She pushed the noise away, turning over in her blankets trying to fall back asleep. Again the voice called out to her, a bit louder. Mara groaned and snuggled her head beneath her pillow, hoping that would stop the intrusion into her pleasant dream.

But the determination of this call penetrated all logic and shattered the state of unconsciousness that Mara really wanted to fall into. With a frustrated sigh, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking sleepily around the room. “I can hear you,” Mara mumbled. “I don’t want any trouble I just want to sleep.”

Looking around the room, seeing as it was still empty, and yet the curtains that swayed with the eerie wind, the wind beckoning her to leave her room and into the hall.

“Whoever you are…”

Giving in to the voice’s alluring demand she slid off her bed, her white nightgown joining the curtains in their trembling dance. Mara peered into the hallway, it was empty, dark, and quiet. A little too quiet for Mara’s liking.

The call tempted her father into the hall, she followed the call that seemed to resonate and shake her soul pulled her body outside of the palace. Not in the courtyard, but in one of the side entrances. It was like a secret meeting as if whoever was calling her wanted to lure Mara in private. Like an assassin, or thief in the night. Mara’s breath hitched out of a new fear from her anxiety’s newly formed thoughts. Even still she followed. “What do you want? Is this a trap?” As if whatever this call was could sense her unease, a trail of Healer Flowers, her people’s symbol, appeared and lead her exactly in the direction in which the alluring call in Mara’s heart wanted to go. Mara’s eyes grew wide as her mind tried to make sense of what it was seeing, and what magic was being displayed. “Honorable Goddesses…” she exclaimed quietly, “Hylia is this your doing?” She touched the token that hung around her neck, there was no answer, she followed farther into the unknown. The voice guided her farther up the mountain and to The Great Thorn wall. The wall that secluded their city from whatever the outside world held. There the path that was once lit faded behind Mara and trapped her in a ring of Healer Flowers. Mara does a quick turn to determine the fact that she was indeed in the center of these flowers.

The voice echoed its trill

Mara waited silently for something else to happen. The notes the voice sang echoed again, begging her to sing. Without thinking for one second she sang the melody the calling had been repeating to her. The call harmonized with her as Mara sang with it. As she sang the golden flowers, Mara noticed, they were releasing their pollen, at first in a gentle sprinkle, and then in a thicker sheet as Mara felt herself fill with magic. Is this supposed to happen after The Choosing??

Are the Goddesses asking her to lead NOW??!!

OF ALL TIMES NOW?? Before her mind could swell with more anxiety Mara was given several obscure visions. She seemed to run on another force as she was frightened but the song still carried out through her lungs without any interruption. War

A land scorched, hurt, and trampled by battle, she could feel the very earth in the vision weep in sorrow and pain.

A towering king with fiery hair and yellow eyes and his queen, wise and sure. She looked an awful lot like some of the paintings her people displayed in their palace. Several Other figures she didn’t recognize but all of them stood in front of the king and queen.

The Three Goddesses. Din Nayru

And Farrore, split in half with a single swipe of a blade.

Famine

And…

And Spring, with petals of pink, new life, and a promise for a bountiful harvest. That image stayed strong in Mara’s head as she sang, the power that seemed to course through her veins grew in its potency and Mara had no way to channel it, it was too much. She was a weak Healer as it was and this divine power, if she couldn’t get it out of her system fast, it could tear her apart from the inside out. As she belted a final note, all of that power was released. Mara forcing her hands down and a forceful golden flash scattered across the space. The divine power leaving her and Mara felt normal once more. The Healer Flowers disappeared as if they were never there, to begin with. Mara stood there, panting. She...she wasn’t dead, she even pinched herself to prove it. Mara lifted her head from staring at the ground, her jaw-dropping and her blue eyes glowing with excitement as she saw what laid before her. The Great Thorn Wall had been compromised.

As there, caused by Mara’s blast of power, stood a small gash in the wall. It was enough for a horse and rider to pass through. Whatever mysterious call she followed and whatever divine power it gave her in that moment, it gave her and Link their guaranteed safe passage to the kingdoms beyond the Healer Capital. If there even were Kingdoms anymore in the land beyond.

#spoilers for soh #the soupiest fiction #soup makes fics #soh #the legend of zelda: lost and found #legend of zelda fanfiction #LOZ #legend of zelda #legend of zelda fandom #lost and found

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sage-nebula · 3 years

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Neo: The World Ends With You - Thoughts So Far

I’m on Day 6 of Week 1 and I want to compile my thoughts so far — not in a formal post, but at least all in one place, especially since I feel that jotting down what I think / feel as I go through will help me write my review when I’m done. Spoilers under the cut, obviously — and while it should go without saying, do NOT comment on this post with spoilers from later in the game, so help me. Even if I pose a question that gets answered later on — hell, especially if I do — don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I will find out in my own time.

With that said . . .

So obviously, I’m really enjoying it so far. You can tell that the writers / devs haven’t lost their touch despite it being thirteen years since the first game was made. You can also tell that a lot of love went into this; this isn’t something they churned out just to make money (if they thought this was a moneymaker we wouldn’t have had to wait 13 freaking years for the sequel), but rather something they really, really wanted to make. Not a total passion project, because those aren’t allowed in the world of capitalism, but there is still a lot of love there.

That said, more specific thoughts:

THE MUSIC. It doesn’t really come as a surprise given that TWEWY’s soundtrack was phenomenal, but god, they brought it right back for this game. The remixes (“Someday”, “Three Minutes Clapping”, “Transformation”, “The One Star” etc) are all excellent, but the new tracks are phenomenal too. Tbh I’m not sure how any of the Players get any fighting done when the music makes you want to just bust a move right there in the scramble. It’s so good.

Most of the characters are great too. Of the Wicked Twisters, I think Fret is my favorite; he is pure of heart, dumb of ass, and I love that for him. I do like Rindo too, of course, and his habit of overthinking everything (since Fret has zero brain cells, Rindo has to make up for it), but him being standoffish / socially anxious and snarky makes him feel a bit like a toned down Neku, so he doesn’t catch my interest quite as much. And while I do like Nagi, the way she speaks in like . . . medieval-esque language is a bit off-putting. In particular it’s weird that Rindo didn’t tell her to knock it off with the “Lord Rindo” stuff since using such an honorific would be considered awkward / embarrassing in Japanese. I guess he’s just too socially anxious / awkward to tell her to stop, but it’s still a bit distracting. Other than that, I’m really not a fan of Kubo (one of the Reapers) or . . . Susukichi, I think his name is? The leader of the Ruinbringers. I find them both to be pretty annoying, haha. But I love Shoka, as well as Kanon, and Motoi is a good bean, too. As for the Deep River Society . . . those nerds have issues lmao. Especially their leader. Although I can’t fault him for breaking down sobbing when he realizes that he now stands a very good chance of getting erased, which reminds me . . .

HOW ARE WE ON DAY SIX AND THE WICKED TWISTERS STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT BEING ERASED IS?? We have kind of an inverse situation where where Neku knew right away that he would get erased if he failed the missions / didn’t win the Game, but didn’t find out until later that he was dead. Here, the Wicked Twisters learn that they’re dead fairly quickly (and Fret has some realistic denial going on about it at first, though he gets over it pretty quickly), but they’re still completely in the dark about the fact that their souls will get wiped from existence if they lose despite erasure being mentioned at least a handful of times. Like I guess it was never spelled out for them, but especially as someone who played the first game about a million times, it’s a bit maddening to see them be like, “Why is he crying like his life is on the line? lol whatevs no big deal la di da!” Since the Wicked Twisters aren’t aware of the stakes, a new player wouldn’t be either, and so it rather tones down the urgency that was felt in the original game where everyone was very much aware that they were fighting for their right to exist.

Since I brought up Motoi, I want to say that I just played past the part where he reveals that he was An0ther, who is apparently Rindo’s favorite blogger / poet. I feel like this is meant to be similar to how Hanekoma was CAT, Neku’s favorite artist, but it doesn’t carry the same impact because a.) as far as we know An0ther didn’t have anything to do with how Rindo died; b.) we haven’t seen Rindo bring An0ther or his poetry up that much, much less have anything An0ther said be his entire life’s mantra; c.) we haven’t gotten to know Motoi that well either. Like we met him once before this revelation. That said I’m not sure it was supposed to have the same impact as the Hanekoma = CAT reveal, but if it was then it did fall short. (Also I saw it coming the second Motoi quoted An0ther lmao.)

Speaking of Hanekoma, WHERE IS MY MANS??? I know he has to show up at some point because if I’m not mistaken we saw him in the trailers. And if I am mistaken then he still has to show up at some point because he played a central role in the “A New Day” epilogue chapter of Final Remix, what with Coco being unable to control him and him knowing what was going on, plus he was testing Neku for something in “Another Day” and that has to be whatever is going on in this game. I’m sure he’ll come in for some big reveal later, but like, we have a new street artist in this game (MKN) with no mention of CAT as of yet, and I’m just like . . . where is he. Where is my mans. What is he doing. Bring him to me.

That said, we already got to see my #2 mans (Kariya♥) so I am happy about that at least.

Back to my mans for a hot second: I actually erased my demo save data and started fresh to remind myself of everything when I got the game, and idk if it was in the demo or not, but regardless—at the end of the demo portion there’s this shot of the sky and then this nameless voice is like, “It’s finally starting. I hope you wake up soon. I don’t want you to miss all the action.” My current guess is that the speaker was Hanekoma, speaking to Joshua. Joshua being “asleep” would explain why the Game is as screwed up as it is right now, what with it having been going on for a year and people able to choose to play again and again and again while the rest of the Players—who tbh should also be counted as winners if they survive the week!—are trapped in limbo.

Because that’s the thing: I know that it was partially a lie to cover for the fact that Joshua’s game with Megumi was set to last three weeks, but at the end of the third week Megumi told Neku that a new rule was being put in place that wouldn’t allow repeats of the Game anymore. But even setting that aside, in the original Shibuya UG rules, anyone who survived the Game could get a wish at the end, whether that was to be brought back to life or made into a Reaper. This is why at the end of Week 1, the three winners were Neku, Shiki, and Beat. However, here the Ruinbringers are able to keep everyone trapped and they have been trapped for at least a year, given what Motoi said. It’s completely different rules and I’m sure that this has something to do with the fact that the majority of the Reapers we’ve seen so far are from Shinjuku (at least going by the spoilery trailer, and iirc it was confirmed in “A New Day” that Coco was from Shinjuku actually, but it’s been a while so I could be wrong about that).

Speaking of, has anyone noticed that the possibly-Shinjuku Reapers don’t have wings? No?

ALSO speaking of Coco, at least tangentially: Coco was the one who revived Minamimoto at the end of “A New Day”. However, he’s definitely not how I would have expected. Like despite Coco using the Taboo Noise sigil to bring him back, he’s clearly not in his Taboo form. He’s using psychs as a Player would, rather than a Reaper. And while it’s clear he’s up to some form of nonsense, it’s unclear exactly what form of nonsense he’s up to. I know that he’s here for fanservice and that him looking like Nagi’s bias from Elegant Strategy is a tongue-in-cheek nod to that, but I have too much faith in this series to think that’s all this is. I’m wondering if being revived for a second time fixed whatever screws were loose in his head before? Or if he was revived as a human Player by like, Joshua or something? (Although why Joshua would do that I have no idea. Maybe Hanekoma instead?) Hmmm . . .

Small aside, but we all know that Nagi has put herself into hundreds of thousands of yen in debt for Tomonami merch lolol RIP Nagi. (I’m also interpreting that she’s not actually older than Rindo or Fret, but she just skipped a bunch of grades. Like I feel like this might have been lost in translation a bit, and that she’s a senpai to them because she’s in uni but she’s not actually older than them. I could be wrong but that’s how I’m interpreting it right now. She just doesn’t look or act older than them.)

Oh another minor annoyance, but whether it’s due to the partial 3D environment or something else, I’m SO ANNOYED that some of the streets aren’t connecting as they should now. Like, how going in the direction of Molco spits you out at Spain Hill or 104 or whatever? I don’t remember exactly what area it was, but it wasn’t Molco!! I’m sure if I hadn’t played the original a million times like a loser this wouldn’t be such a big deal to me, but I have and it is lmao. Also, they’ve had the Shibuya Underpass / Cat Street blocked off this whole time and I’m like :( let me go to Cat Street :( let me see my mans

I’m relieved that Ken Doi is still making delicious food and I look forward to his ramen curry fusion. I was really upset about RamenDon being gone at first but as long as Ken Doi is still around I am happy.

My dinner just arrived so this is all I have to say for now, but I will update more as I play more. I love this game and I’m so happy to be back in Shibuya, even if the characters pronounce it wrong sometimes (saying “ShiBOOya” like pls . . . you are supposed to be Japanese . . . get it right . . .)

#neo: the world ends with you #no but seriously I will block anyone who sends spoilers lol it will be ON SIGHT

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