#Brain doing that thing where it’s telling me my friends are drifting apart from me and are tolerating me at best
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//— ooc
Hmm
#Brain doing that thing where it’s telling me my friends are drifting apart from me and are tolerating me at best#we aren’t as close anymore or the energy has changed in group chats …#I am sus … but also what if it’s true ?#ugh I hate the holidays so#busy and my bad thoughts and depression just get worse with the lack of sun#ok but what if everyone is annoyed with me …#>.> ;#have I drifted apart … are they not as friendly with#me as before ??#I disappointed them somehow I think
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Adding to the Four Swords x Tales from the Gas Station AU thing..
Despite the fact I said I was abandoning it immediately, I've still been thinking about it while getting swamped at work. Maybe it's just the sucky minimum wage job aspect, but it's taken up refuge in a small corner of my brain now. It owes me money, rent is due.
+ I'm committing to the setting being an actual gas station, though the whole town probably features at least a little in the groups antics. Red's apartment in particular is where everyone defaults to when bored (or in need of shelter due to some weird town-wide spooky shit goin' on).
Red starts off ecstatic about the constant company, but gradually starts to treat it like, "oh, hey, welcome home I guess, [Green, Blue, Vio]'s here too." If it's Shadow he will shut the door immediately, though that doesn't stop Shadow from getting in anyway if he really wants to.
+ Green works multiple jobs all over town and is struggling through student debt, of which comes up in conversation quite a lot as a running joke. He doesn't have many shifts at the gas station, but when he does, some weird shenanigans are pretty much guaranteed to happen. Dude's cursed or something.
He's always pretty low energy due to being run ragged, but always has energy drinks on him that he offers the others whenever there's even a slight inconvenience. He, like Blue, doesn't immediately assume something is supernatural despite the weird ass town they live in, so he's always walking into danger. At least a quarter of his soul now belongs to Vio because of how often Vio has to influence it after Green almost dies (memory alternation doesn't usually taint the souls of those afflicted, but overexposure is one helluva drug).
Also made the executive decision that he's aroace in this AU. Not relevant to anything really, I just think it's neat. Had to self-project this onto one of the Colors eventually lmao.
+ As the main character, Blue interacts with everyone quite a bit for one reason or another, but I've decided that his best friend is Red, his favorite coworker is Green (rip Red, literally whoops), his potential love interest is Shadow, and Vio is a work-acquaintance who he keeps seeing at Red's place and hasn't connected the dots on why that is (they're more than just "good friends", Blue).
+ Shadow and Vio hate each other early on. It is on sight, and it's not even subtle. When asked about it, they give a different reason why every time, often contradicting each other. Both are missing limbs in their true forms as a result of their last scuffle where they went all out.
I haven’t yet decided what causes them to start getting along, but as of now, I don’t think they ever really become friends, more so they just tolerate each other more. Blue and Red probably have something to do with it.
+ Red and Shadow don't particularly like each other, but they aren't outright spiteful of each other. Red's soul belonging to Vio marks him as an enemy to Shadow, but Red being friends with Blue almost negates that fact. Almost. He likes to tease him.
At some point they set the cornfield on fire with a Molotav cocktail and bond over arson.
Until then though, their interactions mainly consist of Shadow poking fun at Red for one reason or another, and Red playing along for Blue’s sake (unless it’s jabs at his relationship with Vio, in which case Red will tell Shadow point blank he hopes Vio kills him ((that’s a lie))).
+ Blue’s memory of Red dying was erased, which, unknown to him, put a strain on their friendship. Shortly after, Shadow makes his appearance, and causes them to unintentionally drift further as Blue starts to spend less time with Red, and more with Shadow.
While this had the potential to become very angsty, it instead just turned into a very convoluted B-plot with Shadow striving to get Blue's memory back from Vio so Blue can fix his friendship with Red--not because he has a soft spot for these two or anything ((liar)), but because Red is spending more time with Vio as a result, and Shadow will do anything to ruin Vio's fun.
It still gets a little angsty once Blue's memory does come back, since, ya know, he unintentionally got his best friend killed. But it's okay, they talk it out. Blue also gets let into the loop on supernaturals at this point, so that opens up a whole lotta exploration potential.
+ I like to think the actual relationship status between Red and Vio is ambiguous, but whatever it is, it's strange. Like, are they just really close coworkers, or are they secretly making out in the camera's blind spot?? Blue thinks they're just good friends, while Shadow is convinced they're together. Green barely even knows who Vio is, so his opinion cannot be sourced at this time.
Either way, Vio stalks Red outside of work. Red is aware, and does not care.
+ Finally, a rapid-fire list of weird shit Blue has seen at the gas station so far:
Lawn-flamingo in the freezer. He got stuck in there when he went to check it out, and then couldn't even find it afterwards.
Headless bird chillin' in the reach-in refrigerator. It was still alive and well, even after being in there for who knows how long--up until they released it and it was immediately eaten by an even bigger bird. Nature is brutal.
Weird nebulous cloud thing that appeared from the cash register. Floated up to the ceiling after a while at which point Blue and Vio took turns hitting it with a broom.
The chip display that only shows up on Sundays. Only contains off-brand chips that don't seem to exist anywhere else. No idea what happens to them once they're bought.
Every now and again, the shitty store phone will get a call on line 4, which shouldn't even be possible. Picking it up usually results in a headache, but also the sound of very faint, reverbed k-pop playing at what appears to be the end of a wind tunnel. Green apparently had a conversation with someone on line 4 once, but didn't remember the contents of said conversation afterwards.
Red somehow catching his hand on fire while restocking the shelves, proceeding to stare at it, then at Blue, then back at his hand, then back at Blue, and in the most monotone sounding voice Blue has ever heard from him, announce "ow," before fleeing to the bathroom.
Corn stalk growing in the air vent. They've been ignoring it, but recently it's been starting to poke out into obvious view of the customers, so Blue is debating contacting the store owners. Sometimes, Blue catches Red staring at it when he's by the lighter display. Not sure if he should be worried about that just yet.
Shadow.
No one believes him on this, but once Blue saw Vio eat a spider completely unprompted. Of course, when he asked why tf Vio did that, Vio just shrugged and said he didn't know what Blue was talking about. Before proceeding to smirk, open his mouth, and let the spider crawl back out--fuckin' weirdo. Ew.
#thank god blue's the only normal person here lmao#very self indulgent au#i love horror comedy#blue x shadow#red x vio#au idea#four swords#blue link#green link#red link#vio link#shadow link#praxis rambles
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𝐈. 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
Pairings- Priest!Art Donaldson x Reader, Priest!Patrick Zwieg x Reader
Summary- Odessa and Antoinette get a creepy letter in the mail
Warnings- religious talk, swearing, inside thoughts, not well written…
Jazzie’s Notes!- I just wanna preface this with saying that I don’t really know how to write this style of writing. I have to learn to write well in first person, but then if I do that, I would have to switch person to person all the time. Let if know if this is good or not, don’t be afraid to give feedback. Also, this isn’t meant to offensive to a religious group, I am religious myself. Sorry for any spelling errors!!!
Word Count- 5,313
Antoinette’s life was far from perfect. She lived in a crappy apartment in a sketchy part of New York with barely any money to afford to live. But she tended to find the bright side of most things. She shared said apartment with her best friend, and she always dreamed of living in New York. Plus, her job was a cute diner with a surprisingly stylish apron. She felt like one of those girls in the rom-com movies. Life could be worse.
“Hi, what can I help you guys with today?” The chipper voice of the young lady said as she pulled the notepad out of her blue apron pocket. She looked expectedly around the group that sat at the diner booth.
“Uh, can we get two French toast meals with the strawberry and whipped cream on them, no bacon or eggs on one of them? And two chocolate chip pancake meals with no whipped cream, just the bananas and blueberries. Four milkshakes, one chocolate with no cherry no whipped cream, one strawberry with the cherry and whipped cream, one vanilla with just the whipped cream, and another chocolate with the cherry and the whipped cream.” Said a blonde woman in one go, before looking up to smile at the waiter.
What a…hearty breakfast. Is it even breakfast time?
The girl squinted, caught off guard by everything that was thrown at her so fast, and didn’t write anything down past the ‘no eggs no bacon’ part. “Um, okay, yeah. I totally have all of that. I’m just gonna repeat it back to make sure it’s correct.” The curly-haired waiter smiled, looking down at the small amount of words scribbled on the yellow paper. Before she could even start talking, the blonde girl spoke up again.
“Oh, no need.” She smiled sweetly, which was obviously fake and condescending by the way she then waved the girl off before continuing the conversation she was in with her friends. Antoinette's eyes darted from one person to the next, utter shock but not surprised at how they all just continued to ignore her presence. She offered a small smile, whispering a small “Okay.” Before walking off to tell Lonny what she remembered of the order.
Which also didn’t go in her favor.
“Why the hell didn’t you write it down?” The older man asked, his New York accent thick on his tongue as she looked down at the small piece of paper the girl handed him.
I totally didn’t even think of that.
“I tried, she was going too fast and wouldn’t let me stay any longer to get it correct.” The girl whined. “I can tell you what I remember from my brain.”
My brain, what am I, seven years old? I need to expand my vocabulary.
“I don’t need what you have in your brain, I need the order on paper! I’m running a restaurant here, curly fry, not a school!” The grump yelled, before moving around the kitchen to continue to cook. Antoinette just stood there, arms stiff at her sides as her eyes drifted towards the open box where the orders got dropped off to see the more than half-empty restaurant. Her brows furrowed inwards only a smidge as she looked back over at her boss.
“Lonny, they’re the only people here.” She stated. All she got in response was the slam of the man’s fist against the metal table out of frustration. Not caring, or rather not paying attention, Antoinette continued. “I mean, them and the homeless guy that sleeps in the booth at the very back. And the occasional person with a laptop to charge.” She shrugged.
Lonny then turned, glaring from afar at the girl who was at least a foot taller than him. Granted, he was a short man.
“You’re lucky I like you curlyfry.” The man grumbled. “Now write down what you can remember then get back to work.” He hissed, turning to the batter he had before him. Antoinette was almost tempted to ask, what work? but refrained from making the situation worse. “Okay.” Was all she said before starting to scribble what she caught of the order on the paper.
My handwriting is atrocious, I need to work on that. Ooh, that’s a big word. Maybe my vocabulary isn’t so terrible. Hey, they do say bad handwriting is a sign of intelligence.
“Also, can you go kick out that homeless guy?” Lonny started, talking to the girl over his shoulder.
“Why can’t you?” She immediately asked, not even thinking over the statement. The older man threw his head back, letting out a deep sigh. “Because I’m working. Ya know, the thing you don’t do.”
Antoinette softly gasped in offense, placing a hand over her heart. “I work. I’m getting this order to you right now.” She said, tripping g the paper from the bit pad and sliding it over to the order station. “Plus, Joey’s gonna be here any second for my shift to end. Although a little late. He can handle it though.”
“Yeah, but I asked you, and I want it done now.” The man spat, never once looking back at the girl as he continued to make the dough for his bread at the cooking station.
“Well, I can’t because I have to wait.” She said, starting to take off her apron. Lonny screamed in annoyance, turning to face his employee. “What did I tell you about that word?!” He screamed desperation and anger in his tone.
“That it’s only used by stinky European teenage boys.” Antoinette related like a mantra at this point. “So stop it!” He yelled as she then tried to walk out of the kitchen, actually having to pee. “And what did I tell you about telling me when you have to pee.”
“I just thought you should know!” Antoinette yelled back through the closing kitchen door. She sighed, starting to continue her way to the bathroom before briefly pausing when she realized the table from earlier was now looking at her in irritation and confusion.
Great, they probably heard me talking about having to pee.
She smiled at them, her dimples being the cherry on top of her adorable face. “Your food will be out shortly.” She said as she encapsulated one hand in the other, voice now calm in contrast to her previous yelling. She went to walk about before stopping once more. “Hopefully.” She said before continuing, taking her apron off in the process and laying it on a hook in the back where her bag and coat were.
She wakes in the dingey bathroom, pulling down her pants and squatting over the bowl. Finally, in some semblance of peace, she had the same thoughts she had every time she used the bathroom at the diner.
My calves have to be extremely strong after doing this for four years. Can they hear me? Gosh, I hope they can’t hear me. I think I’d kill myself. Well no, I wouldn’t because that’s a sin.
Finished, the file looked over next to her for the toilet paper, seeing the roll bare but the sake of two thin sheets stuck to the adhesive. “Aw, man. No paper.” She said to herself. She then tried forward, scouring her mind for a solution to such a predicament. Here she was, leaning forward with her rosary handing in her face, squatted over the toilet seat with urine dripping from her privates.
Today couldn’t be any worse.
Just then, the door shot open and slammed into the girl's head. Antoinette yelped at the harsh contact, not even paying attention to the scream let out by the man above her as she focused on her now throbbing head and tried not to fall into the toilet bowl. “Dammit, Antoinette, lock the door next time.” The man groaned. Antoinette held her head as if her hand would bring some sort of red to the area.
“Ok, Joey can you go grab me some toilet paper? We’re out.” She said, trying to focus on how embarrassing this whole ordeal was.
“Uh, yeah, give me a sec.” He said through the door before drifting away.
Antoinette sighed, her head flopping down as she was once again left in that weird position, now even more embarrassed that someone saw her and that she was hit in the head. And it was her coworker.
Lord. I’m sorry but I must die today.
Joey then came back with a new roll of tissue, handing it to the girl through a crack in the bathroom door, even though he could see the girl in the small bathroom mirror. A few seconds after a flush and the sink running, Antoinette emerged with an awkward smile on her face to see Joey standing in front of the bathroom door.
“Hi.” Was all she said, looking everywhere but his eyes.
“Hey.” The taller olive-skinned man said back. They stood in front of each other for a few moments in silence.
“You should go—“
“Sorry about—“
They stared at the same time, pausing before awkwardly laughing.
“I was gonna say sorry about your head. I kinda just barged in.” Joey continued, smiling down at the girl in front of him.
“It’s fine, I was sitting there very awkwardly. Squatting rather.” She stared, brushing it off. “I was saying that you should head on in there and…do whatever you were going to do.” She shrugged. She could feel her heatwave pick up just being in his presence. And the longer she looked at him in those sultry brown eyes, the feeling of a hot pool started to rumble in her lower stomach. She might’ve been a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid.
Well, not entirely.
She knew she found Joey attractive, but the feeling she got when she stood too close to him was not okay in her book. It triggered her fight or flight, but instead of running away or throwing fists at him, she wanted to jump into his arms.
Yeah, I can’t do this. It’s time to leave.
“Well, it was nice speaking to you Joey, have a nice day. Oh, and Lonny wants you to remove the homeless guy from the booth in the back.” She spat out in a hurry as she grabbed her bag from the hook, along with her coat, and walked back to the front. She passed the table on her way out, seeing that they were now eating. “Oh, you guys got your food. Great.” She said with a small customer service smile as she continued walking.
“Yeah, our order is actually wrong—.” The woman from before couldn’t get out much more before Antoinette was cutting her off.
“Sorry, I’m off the clock. Bye.” She cheesed on her last words and walked out of the door, a bell ringing above her head. She scurried to the alley on the side of the building, to see her bike still double-chained to a random pipe in the next building over. It was basically a little game at this point to come around the corner and see if her bike was still there. Sighing in relief, she rushed over to the baby blue bike with a wicker basket in the front. She unclasped her key from her wrist and unlocked the heavy-duty chains she bought with her last few dollars when she moved to New York. This elderly couple had given her the bike when they saw the girl walking in the rain, saying it was their daughter’s old bike. But since the girl was lost and confused in a very nice neighborhood, she had to buy some chains so she didn’t get jacked before she could get to enjoy its labor.
The girl opened the basket in the front of her bike to place her chains into when she paused at the sight of something wrapped in the large bin. The thing was moving underneath the black cloth and Antoinette was just frozen. She glanced around at the alley to see if anyone was watching her but spotted not a single soul. Sighing, the girl reached out and pulled back the back fabric, being sure to keep her head as far away as she could whilst also being able to see within the basket. Seeing that whatever it was didn’t violently react to her movements, she eased forward to see a tuft of sandy white hair.
What in tarnation is this?
Now confused, the girl leaned forward and pulled the cloth back more to see two small kittens in her backseat, one was this sanely blonde color, the darker part of its body being its nose area and its tail. The other kitten was a mix of colors, mainly orange and black with white spots here and there. Antoinette’s heart immediately melted at the sight of the two kittens.
“Awww!” The girl said, pouting at the creatures who lay in her basket. Well, one creature lay while the other moved around in the basket as best as it could. “Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” The girl gushed as she lifted the blanket with them two in it to place the chains at the bottom of the basket. Once placing them back down, she looked at the cats, who eventually acknowledged the woman above them with tiny meows, as if they were speaking to her speaking voice. Antoinette nearly cried as she continued to fawn over the cute little animals.
“Yeah, you two are coming home with me.” She said as she mounted her bike and washed her way out of the alley. “Des is just gonna love you two!” She said excitedly, closing the top of her basket and riding off into the New York City streets.
“Why the hell are there kittens in the kitchen?” The light skin girl said as she walked into the small flat and hung her keys and coat near the door before turning to her right to see two kittens in the kitchen licking at a bowl of milk on the corner. Antoinette smiled at the girl as the light from her laptop reflected off her large glasses.
“Hello, Odessa.” The girl said formally laying one hand on top of another as she sat straighter in her seat. The lighter girl furrowed her brows, eyeing her friend across from her in the small kitchen.
“What do you have to say?” The girl demanded out of her rather than asked, already tired from a long work day and knowing Antoinette had something up her sleeve.
She’s sneaky for a catholic…Well, aren’t they all? According to history.
“Well, to answer your previous question, these cats are here because some holy being left them in my basket on my bike.” She started. She could see Odessa was about to speak again but she interrupted before she could. “And before you say anything discouraging, I’d just like to say I did some extensive research. The multicolored one is a calico kitten, and did you know that approximately one calico in 3,000 is male? And guess what? He’s male!” The girl with glasses said, faking her shock again to add to the dramatic value in front of Odessa. The leather-clad girl just leaned against the kitchen archway with her arms folded, face stoic. Seeing that Antoinette was waiting for some sort of reaction before she continued, the woman slightly opened her mouth to let out a small gasp, glancing over at the kitten near her feet.
Antoinette smiled before continuing. “And that quiet and mysterious beauty is a ragdoll kitten. They have an above-average life span, fully grown at 4 years old, quiet by nature, as you can tell. And they are one of the largest cat breeds out there, which is also kind of confusing because you’re supposed to mix other breeds to get a ragdoll cat.” She said, trailing off at the end as she looked at her laptop in confusion, those two facts not making much sense in her mind. Shaking off the thought, the spec-wearing girl looked over at her cooler friend, who just stared at her. Antoinette put on her best smile.
Well, not her best. She was sort of anxious about the whole situation so the smile was kind of awkward, the girl showing all of her adult teeth while her eyes waited on an answer, her brows giving away her concern.
After a moment of silence, the two just looking at one another, Odessa cracked first.
“We can’t keep the cats.” That was all she said before all hell broke loose.
“But, I did so much research on them! I could probably work as a veterinarian with all the knowledge I know now.” The girl in pink whined.
Odessa just started, moving to put her hands in the pockets of her leather pants, the tattoos on her arms showing.
“It was basically a sign from God- well the universe that I’m meant to keep them. They just appeared in my basket, begging for my care.” She continued, changing her words when she saw the girl's brow spike at the mention of the guy up above. That still didn’t get a reaction out of the girl, Odessa just moved across the small kitchen and past the tiny table to the fridge. Antoinette followed her moments within her seat, desperation etched into her face.
“I mean, it won’t cost us much. I can use the bin we use for our socks as their litter box and just use sand from the cigarette pot downstairs.” I’m grasping at freaking straws here.
Odessa turned around once she had the beer in her hands and used the counter to pop the lid off. “And for now we can just give them milk, ya know since we always have some that go bad and we’re lactose intolerant anyway.” She continued, taking her glasses off her face to look at her friend.
Odessa cringed at her words, and leaned against the counter now, which was only about three feet away from the other girl. “That sounds like a terrible life for these poor kittens, Antoinette. And us.” She said before taking a swig of her beer. “We can’t afford them.”
“I mean, it's not like we’re poor. We can take care of them.”
“We have a box television in the year 2023…” Odessa started, “And it’s not even in our living room, it’s in the kitchen and it’s the size of a basketball.” She finished, pointing over to the small television on the corner of the table that softly played reruns of old television shows with the antenna that aimed at the small kitchen window. “We don’t even have fucking cable.”
“Language,” Antoinette muttered. “I mean, at least we get to watch Sex & The City and Living Single for free.” She smiled over at Odessa, who gave her a simple stare. “We can’t afford them, Bennie.” She said softly.
Antoinette then deflated, shoulders sagging as she leaned back in the old wooden chair. She had lost all hope as soon as the girl said that name, Odessa only calling her that when she was serious about something. Mainly because Odessa hated nicknames. “Okay, I’ll find them somewhere tomorrow.” She softly whined before putting her head in her hands. Odessa pursed her lips in sadness, patting the girl on the shoulder for comfort before making her way out of the kitchen. It only took her about three steps before she was in what most would call a living room, but Odessa liked to call it her room. Since it essentially was her room.
The far wall was made of brick, with a green couch in front of it that let out into her bed and a small back circle table in the middle, on top of an ugly carpet.
The girl sighed as she turned and dropped down onto the couch, letting her back hit the seat cushions. The old ceiling light hurt her eyes and made her already terrible hangover headache worse, so she threw her arms over her eye, placing her face in her elbow. Getting home late last night from one of her small concerts, she liked to call them, at the bar she worked at, she got a little too wasted. It was a recurring theme for her honestly.
Get up, go to work at the bar, wait till 10 to start performing, do that until about 2 am, get drunk afterward and either go home with whoever she decides to lay with that night or go to her humble abode. She didn’t perform every night, but when she did, that was usually the routine. And now she was suffering the consequences of getting drunk and staying up until 5 am when she had to work only hours later. At least she didn’t perform tonight, now she could stay in longer since it was only 6.
Her head becoming too much, the girl sat up from the couch to head to the bathroom to see if she could salvage some pain pills. But before she could, the sight of a pile of letters caught her eye. Reaching over, she grabbed the small pile to sort through.
Bill, bill, bill, creepy letter, postcards, bill, rent, perfume samples…What the hell?…
Odessa paused at the sight of the letter, the off-white paper wax-sealed with a red stamp. She squinted, looking at the seal to see if she knew the symbol from somewhere. Looking at it in just the wax form, she couldn’t quite make it out but she knew it looked familiar. Standing up, she kept her eyes on the letter as she walked back to the kitchen.
“Did you see this creepy ass letter in the mail?” She asked, standing the the archway and turning the letter to face Antoinette, who had her head propped on her chin as she sadly looked at places where she could drop the kittens off. Speaking of kittens, they now lay in the girls’ lap, curled into one another in almost a yin and yang symbol.
Antoinette looked up, squinting at the girl who was blurry since she didn’t have on her glasses. Odessa walked forward, placing the letter in front of her roommate.
Placing her spec on, Antoinette inspected the letter more, immediately recognizing the symbol. She furrowed her brows, glancing up at the even more confused Odessa. Gliding her long bare nails under the wax seal, she popped the envelope open and pulled out the letter. “Ohh, handwritten.” She said to herself as she looked at the unfolded paper.
She was silent as she read through the letter, causing Odessa to just stand before her and wait for the girl to speak. She watched Antoinette read the letter, her face going through a mix of emotions. First, her brows raised in surprise in the beginning as she hummed in contempt. Then her eyes widened as she continued before she got to the end of the letter and gasped.
“What is it?! You’re making my blood pressure rise.” Odessa said, watching the girl intensely.
“It’s from Saint Mary’s.” She started, not looking up to see Odessa cringe at the words. “They said a lot has changed in the last four years. Mother Agnes died, and they refurbished the church and built it. And they even have new staff, but the community is failing. They sent letters to all the kids that grew up in the foster home to see if they’d come to work there to improve their quality of life. Pay and free housing included.” She finished, looking up at the girl before her.
Neither of them could look each other in the eyes at the news, both of them still processing everything. Mainly the information about Mother Agnes dying. There was a sense of relief as if the girls had been haunted by everything that woman did to them. And in a sense, they were. They’ve endured too much pain at the hands of Mother Agnes. So much pain that they had to live with their whole lives, and leaving there didn’t help as much as they thought it would. They just now had a place to express such feelings out loud. Although they never did. Conditioning at its finest. Just thinking about their youth made Odessa want to break down and cry after so many years of pushing those memories away. And Antoinette…she could have a panic attack just being back at such a place.
After a moment of silence, Antoinette read over the letter again and again while Odessa just started in thought, someone finally spoke.
“We should do it.” She said softly, not looking up in fear of Odessa’s reaction.
“And why the hell would we do that?” The other girl asked harshly, offended that Antoinette even thought of such a possibility.
“Because it could help.” She answered softly. “We could use the money.”
“We have money. You and I both work.”
“You said it yourself, Des,” Antoinette said looking up, her hands slightly shaking as she played with the letter in her hands. The thought of going back wasn’t doing her psyche any good, but she felt as if this was a good opportunity. Maybe this could be good for us. “We don’t have the money.”
“I said that about your cats. Me and you are living just fine.” Odessa spat, her words harsh as she looked down at the darker-skinned girl. Antoinette subtly flinched at her tone, looking back down at the letter in her hands. Odessa saw her small movements and immediately felt bad, she wasn’t making the situation any better.
“It could be good for us.” Antoinette started again, not looking up this time. “We could go there and help out. Make it a better place than it was when we were there. Be nicer to the children so they…don’t end up like us.” She said. Her words hung in the air for a moment. “I mean, what other place is gonna offer us free housing and a job?”
“We go back just so we can be in debt to those people?” Odessa stated, ignoring what the girl previously said about helping the children. “So they can treat us like some charity case? Like they did when we were foster children?” She continued to ask, staring at the top of Antoinette’s head since she refused to lift her eyes from the wax she was ripping off the paper envelope. “I’m not going through that again, not for some people who didn’t give a damn about us then.”
“There’s new people.”
“Yeah, and who do you think taught them what they know?” She asked, folding her arms. There was a thick silence between them.
Antoinette nodded, never looking up. “You're right.” She closed her old laptop and adjusted the kittens into her arms. She then tucked her laptop under her arm and stood up. “I’m gonna go to bed now, good night.” She said softly, walking past Odessa and into the small room on the other side of the living room. Odessa sighed, placing her head into her head as she heard the girl's door softly close from her place in the kitchen.
Antoinette didn’t come out of her room after that, but Odessa could hear her shuffling around in the very small space. She now lay on her bed couch, looking over at the skinny door every time she heard the slightest moment from the room. She would wait to see if the girl would come out in the middle of the night like she always did to ask her random questions, say a random fact, or go to the kitchen to get some water and get caught up in the small television. But none of that ever came.
As soon as Odessa thought sleep was about to finally meet her halfway, she got caught in the words Antoinette said earlier. About helping the children.
Now, Odessa was far from a children's type of person. She was far from a people person, honestly, but she had to make a living somehow. So, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she was so affected by the girl's words as soon as they left her mouth. But deep down, she knew why. And so did Antoinette.
Even in the foster home, Odessa would always protect the younger kids from punishment. Taking all their lashing so she didn’t have to hear the cries of children being hurt. Antoinette is one of those kids when the others would blame things on her. And she would take their pain with no words since the age of fourteen. She never vocally expressed the pain she felt emotionally, mentally, and definitely not physically. That mentality infuriated Mother Agnes to the point she would single the girl out and beat the girl harder to see if she could make her break. But Odessa only let tears slip when she was alone.
Now Antoinette didn’t know the severity her words would have on Odessa’s mind, so she couldn’t blame the girl. But she knew that the girl was right. Odessa would do anything in her power to make sure no other kids ended up like her. She would do anything to not hear the cries of pain from children who busted and wanted to be accepted and loved.
And with that thought, she got up from the bed and walked over to Antoinette’s room. She opened the small door that led to the tiny room to see the girl’s back facing the door, looking out the window at the city as she lay in bed and petted the two cats.
“I changed my mind.” She said softly.
Antoinette glanced over her shoulder. “About the cats?” She started. “Nah, I think you’re right. I don’t think I can care for them properly.” She said sadly, turning to look back out of the window.
“No, not about the cats,” Odessa stated.
There was a pause between the two, Antoinette processing the girl's words. She then sat up in her bed and turned to face the girl at her door, five feet away from her. “What made you change your mind?” She asked softly.
“You were right. About everything.” She shrugged, biting her lip. She was anxious about the whole situation. Coming to such a conclusion about her feelings and the thought of going back to the town brought more bad memories than good. But also to how her best friend would react. But that was all washed away when she saw the girl smile.
“Can I bring the cats?” She asked, pointing to the sleeping kittens in her bed. Odessa giggled, looking at the pleading smile on her friend's face.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, they’ll have more space to grow. Its a better life than here.” She said shrugging.
Antoinette then gasped. “Oh! Now I can get one of those cute wax melt sets so I can’t write back to them.” She smiled excitedly. “Oh, this is gonna be so great!”
Odessa smiled at the girl's excitement. “Now get some sleep, we have some things to sort out before we head up.” That was all she said before she closed the door behind her and made her way back to bed. She let out one final sigh before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her away.
Antoinette smiled at the door as it closed before looking down at the animals at her side. “Ya see, prayers do get answered, guys.” She said, holding up her right hand that was wrapped in her rosary, showing it to the sleeping cats. “Oh, you guys can’t hear me. Or understand me. Or understand religion. I need to go to bed.” She hugged before plopping down onto her pillow with an anxious smile and closing her eyes.
Let me know if you guys like the story and if you’d liked to be added to the taglist!!!
#challengersmovie#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#mike faist#tashi duncan#tashi donaldson#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson x reader#josh o connor#josh o’connor x reader#josh o'connor#priest kink#fleabag#jazziejaxchallengers#jazziejaxwriting#jazziejaxllb
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Intoxicating Fear (VIII)
A visitor comes a-knocking
Dedicated to @xxgalgurlxx for their lovely comments and to everyone who comments before or enjoys this series! It got number one on the poll on my blog so really, thank you for reading <3 and Happy New Year!
Read part one here
Continued from this part here
*~*~*~*~*
Kit woke to a knock at his door. He ignored it, thinking it was just Ambrose come to fucking gloat about Kit being under his thumb or threatening to get Kit to murder all his friends.
You know, the normal stuff.
Kit only realised his mistake when Ambrose barged into his room, slightly ruffled as if he were worried.
“Kit? You in there?”
Hope bloomed like rot in Kit’s stomach at the sound of Superhero’s voice.
Superhero’s voice.
At Kit’s front door.
Kit glanced at Ambrose briefly before jumping out of bed and sprinting towards his bedroom door. Ambrose caught him around the waist, but Kit shoved him away and kept running. Kit cleared his bedroom door, adrenaline fuelling his every movement. The shortest path to the front door was through his couch, so Kit vaulted over it as he ran towards the door where Superhero stood on the other side waiting, his saviour.
If he could reach the door before Ambrose, he could be free.
Kit’s hand wrapped around the door handle before Ambrose’s chilling power flooded Kit, and he collapsed suddenly like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. Whatever Kit had done, he did it right. Kit’s body grew heavier than an anvil, but he kept his hand on the door handle to his apartment as he fell to the floor. The last thing Kit saw before his brain turned off was Superhero’s concerned eyes blinking down at Kit as he pushed the front door open and if he could’ve, Kit would have smiled.
Instead, the darkness swallowed him whole and Kit drifted into Ambrose’s forced abyss of sleep for the first time without fear.
*~*~*~*~*
When Kit woke up again, he was in his bed, head pounding with the thunderous headache that always came after Ambrose's power forced him to sleep. Kit opened his eyes but quickly shut them again, groaning at how bright the light was in the room.
“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit’s heart hammered in his chest at the sound of his voice. He was still here; Ambrose didn’t stop him. “Hey, Kit it’s me. You’re okay.”
“Is he awake?” Ambrose.
Kit jerked up but groaned again, his entire upper body aching with the effort. He didn’t even get two inches up before collapsing onto the bed again. Kit couldn’t even form the words to speak, to warn Superhero about Ambrose.
Someone settled down next to Kit, the bed dipping with the weight. Kit risked opening his eyes only to meet Ambrose’s dark eyes and too red lips smiling down at him. The face that haunted his dreams. Ambrose was holding a glass of water in his hand and reached a cold hand under Kit’s head and tipped it up until Kit’s lips met the edge of the glass.
“You are not going to tell Superhero anything,” Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit’s mind. Kit tried to pull away, to protest and warn Superhero that Omen was right there in front of him, but his body wouldn’t respond. Refused to even twitch away. “You will tell Superhero that you’re sick, that we’re childhood friends, and I am here to help you recover.”
Kit felt the compulsion weigh him down, and tears sprung to his eyes at the helplessness of his situation.
Superhero was here.
Is here!
Right here. In Kit’s house, in his room!
Now was the only time that Kit could tell him, warn him, escape from Omen.
His one and only chance was sitting by Kit’s bedside, but he couldn’t do anything except exactly what Ambrose wanted him to do.
Ambrose pulled the glass away from Kit’s lips and put the back of his hand on Kit’s forehead. “Say thank you,” Ambrose told Kit, his command echoing in Kit’s head.
Kit tried… he really tried to say nothing. To swallow the words that were crawling up his throat, but he came out anyways, raspy and raw.
“Thank you,” Kit said with a slight cough.
Ambrose frowned. “You still have a slight temperature, Kit. Maybe we should take the blankets off.”
Kit protested with a meek, “no,” but Ambrose took them off anyways.
“It’s for your own good, Kit. I know you’re cold but if we don’t get your temperature down, you’ll be in trouble.”
Kit was trembling alright, but it wasn’t from some made up sickness that Ambrose said he had. Kit was trying to fight Ambrose’s compulsion with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t do more than pull against it while Ambrose pushed him to obey.
“I’ll go get a wet cloth,” said Ambrose, standing from the bed and putting the glass on the table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Kit watched Ambrose leave and waited until the door closed to turn his attention to Superhero. Superhero smiled warmly at Kit.
“Superhero…” Kit said, his voice crackling.
“I’m here, Kit. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“Doesn’t—” Kit heaved, rolling his heavy body over in the bed. “Doesn’t ma— matter. Ambrose—”
“Doesn’t matter?” Superhero asked, moving closer to Kit and pushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “Of course it matters, Kit. I’m just sad that you didn’t tell me you were sick. I would have understood.”
“No,” Kit moaned, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor with a hard thud. “Ambrose—”
“I’m here,” Ambrose said from the doorway. Ambrose rushed in and handed the cloth to Superhero who placed it on Kit’s bedside locker. Ambrose went to Kit’s side, Superhero quickly joining them on the floor. “Kit, you can’t keep doing this.”
“What’s wrong?” Superhero asked, helping Ambrose get Kit back onto the bed.
“No,” Kit moaned. “No, no.”
“His fever has been coming and going the last two days. He starts speaking gibberish. Yesterday he said he was part fish,” Ambrose told Superhero with a laugh as he settled Kit in the middle of the bed. “There we go. Can you hand me the cloth?”
Superhero nodded, grabbing the cloth off the table and pressed it into Ambrose’s hand. Ambrose put it on Kit’s forehead, who groaned and protested and weakly grabbed Ambrose’s wrist trying to push him off.
Kit narrowed his eyes at Ambrose, chest heaving with the effort as he spat: “don’t— nngh… fucking touch me!”
Blue electricity sparked from Kit’s hand to Ambrose’s wrist. Ambrose quickly retracted his hand to his chest with a soft gasp. Superhero glanced at Kit then Ambrose with a half-smile.
“Does he keep doing that?” Superhero asked.
Ambrose narrowed his eyes at Kit slightly.
“No, that one’s new,” Ambrose said in a way that would seem perfectly innocent to an onlooker like Superhero, but Kit knew would mean a world of pain for him when Superhero left.
If Superhero left.
“Oh, don’t worry, dear Kit,” Ambrose cooed, voice hard and cold as it pierced Kit’s mind with a sudden pain. “Superhero will be leaving shortly and when he does, oh Kit, sweet Kit. I have been nice to you for far too long. I think you forget exactly what I can and will do to you.”
Kit glared at Ambrose through half lidded eyes, though he doubted it had the terrifying effect that Kit desired it to.
“No more using your powers, little Kit,” Ambrose ordered, the compulsion taking root almost instantly.
“I hate you,” Kit thought mutinously.
Ambrose smiled. “Oh, I know. Just be good for me now and I won’t punish you as hard as I intend to later.”
Kit reached for his power anyways and found a vacuous mass in his body that was locked down tight leaving Kit powerless and at Ambrose’s mercy again.
“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit blinked and glanced to his left to see Superhero’s sympathetic eyes. Kit had nearly forgotten he was here. Even if he was it didn’t matter. None of this mattered, not while Ambrose still has him under his thumb locked away from everything that made him… well, Kit.
Tears sprung to Kit’s eyes when he met Superhero’s, helpless and weak and impossible to hold back or control.
“Kit…” Superhero said softly, pressing a hand to Kit’s cheek and rubbing the first tear away as it fell. “It’s alright. I know everything must be confusing and wrong, but Ambrose and I we will stay by your side until you get better. Okay?”
Kit nodded weakly, more tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Good,” said Superhero. “Now get some rest. Ambrose and I will be just outside if you need us.”
Superhero stood and slapped Ambrose on the back reassuringly.
“Yeah, what Superhero said,” Ambrose echoed. “Try and get some sleep. Call us if you need anything.”
Kit wanted to protest: to scream and cry and rush out of bed and punch Ambrose in the face and tell Superhero the truth, but his eyelids were already pulling down over his eyes growing heavy and Kit was far too weak to resist it. Soon the darkness settled over Kit's eyes and his limbs grew heavy, and he couldn't do anything but be whisked away.
*~*~*~*~*
Continued here
The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whatwhumpcomments @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @princess-bubble-blossom @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations
#writblr#hero villain writing#hero villain snippet#hero villain story#hero#villain#writing#orphan writing#whump writing#orphan#intoxicating fear#intoxicating fear part VIII#IF#IF VIII#hero whumpee#villain whumper#scared hero x telepath villain#scared hero#telepathic villain#scary villain#terrifying villain#mind control#mind corruption#scared whumpee#evil whumper#manipulative whumper#intelligent whumper#intelligent villain#sadistic villain#sadistic whumper
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At Sea Without a Map Pt. 27
(you sweethearts)
Despite only knowing her for a handful of days, you've been around Calibani wrong to know that a frown looks deeply wrong on her face. And since it's unlikely the tiger said anything to upset her, chances are high that her current morose mood is your fault.
Being a responsible sort of person, you decide to correct your mistake immediately. You quickly go to Calibani and outright ask, "Did I say something wrong?"
She looks at you with those big, wet eyes, her diamond-shaped shrinking to pinpricks in a panic. "No, no of course not!" she replies a little too fast.
"But you look upset."
She backs away from your slightly, averting her eyes as her fins curl up and hide in her hair again. "It's just..." She bites her lip and shakes her head. "I don't want to make this your problem..."
"Make what my problem?"
Calibani mumbles quietly for a moment, her words too soft and indistinct to parse. You notice that her eyes keep drifting to her tail, her fins, the scales on her hands. "It's nothing," she lies. "It's not your problem."
But you persist. "Calibani, you're my friend. If something's bothering you - especially if it's something I said - I want you to tell me so I can help."
She shakes her head and puts on a big, bright, fake smile. "It's fine! I'm fine!" But she sees you aren't buying it. "I'm just..." Calibani trails off, her eyes refusing to meet your gaze as she searches for the right words. "I guess I'm just a bit sad because you're going to be leaving, that's all." She smiles again, smaller this time, and a little sad, but more genuine. "You're my friend. I've never had a friend like you, one that I've known for more than few minutes. Most people I've met come and go, and that's just how it's been. But I've been with you so long now..." It's just been a few days, you note to yourself, but you decide not to mention it. "I guess I'm just sad about you leaving."
She looks at you and plasters on a big smile again. "But like I said, that shouldn't be your problem! I'm fine and - and I'll be fine, really! I promised to help you get home, and that's what I'm going to do!"
You can sense that while all of that is true, it's not the whole reason why she's distressed - that she's still holding something back. But you've only known this fish woman, what, four days at most? It's not like you're in a position to pry much more than that.
Still, you hate to see her upset...
Boldly, you step forward, wrap your arms around Calibani, and pull her into a hug. Her body briefly tenses before relaxing into your embrace, while her tail rises and thumps the deck a few times in what might be excitement. "You're my friend," you tell her. "And you'll always be my friend, no matter where I am, or how far apart we are."
Even with her head over your shoulder, you can sense that Calibani is smiling, and decide to leave it at that.
~ ~ ~
Night falls, dawn rises, and the next day arrives. You set sail at daybreak and head off in the direction Captain Peter showed you. Over the course of a few hours you pass by some small and rather dull looking islands - tiny, rocky things that couldn't be much wider than a house at most, and none of which look too inviting for you to land. But, eventually, you find it.
Captain Peter's description was... not inaccurate, given what you imagine a tiger's reference pool for imagery must be. Still, the "wrinkly butt mountain," now that you see it, is more clearly supposed to be a building whose top is a dome cast in the image of a very stylized human brain. The island itself is a rocky, jagged chunk of land, far larger than the ones that preceded it, but has a nice, helpful little path up and a dock for you to set your boat. It seems Captain Neptune is actually prepared for visitors.
The doorway to the building is a strange, crooked fixture with sharp, jagged plates of metal tightly sealed together. Four speakers are clustered by it in an odd, asymmetrical arrangement, and a giant sphere that looks something like a mechanical eye sits nestled in a socket over the arch of the frame. As you and Calibani step up to it, the speakers buzz to life and shout in unison, "Hold it! Who are you and what do you want?"
It's time to introduce yourself, and to pick the right words, you consult your compass.
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ugh the second pacific rim makes me so sad because like. it's this insane amalgamation of what could've been, and im sure other people have said this before but whatever i just rewatched it and im in my feels rn so buckle up ig.
firstly - acghfshg they literally got rid of all of silly little things that made the first pacific rim *pacific rim*, except for the like two occasions when they didn't. like. soundtrack?? where did it go?? there was one (1) scene that had any sort of soundtrack usage the way the first movie did it, and it was a callback scene to the first movie. and the first pacrim was rife with ridiculous action-hero quips (think raleigh's bro saying "let's turn up the heat" in the middle of a fight) which pacrim 2 did try to do but it was so painfully a product of it's time bc dear god does it take itself way too seriously for any of the quips to land. not saying that john boyega didn't have his moments but like. they were the type of moments you'd find in any movie produced in that time.
secondly - charlie day and burn gorman put their whole actussies into that performance -- because goddamnit pacrim 2 was supposed to be an ode to hermann and newt's relationship -- only to get shafted at the last hour. like seriously their arc in pacrim 2 is so fucking heartbreaking, the two of them going from being so in tune with one another as they were at the end of pacrim 1 to drifting so far apart over ten years. and you can tell that they don't really want to believe that they don't really know each other anymore either, because like come *on* the sheer apprehensive hope on hermann's face when he first comes up to newt, and the way his face just *falls* when he asks "you won't help me?", and newt letting himself get dragged away and letting hermann go on even though he's clearly in a rush. and the way the both of them try to ignore how they've both changed over the past decade, because they have changed out of sync, and changed away from each other, and they both remind the other of what it used to be like, but it doesn't feel the same anymore because it isn't the same and just. ugh. that proverb about men and rivers. and like you can tell that what's left of newt is like. punching the prison walls of his brain, because of the sheer regret in his face when he has to hurt hermann, or the way he tries to avoid shit talking hermann when his boss clearly expects it of him. and obviously hermann having to see his friend disappear like that. going from hugging him outside the elevator because it was finally like the good old days again and they were on the same side and they would fight the bad guys and save the world again, to finding out that the person the world needed saving from was newt. and all that just to end the way it did. the both of them are entirely forgotten after hermann checks over the rocket plan and newt gets punched out.
and like obviously they were vying for a third movie because the set up for a newmann flavored reunion was literally right there, but like asfhjdg.
thirdly - mako's death??? that could've really been something, they could've used it to have like an actual lambert/jake moment, where they actually get to reconcile, but it might as well not have happened what with how the movie actually went about it.
bleh. im sure there's more to be said that im just forgetting about but whatever, it's way too late for me to care, and if any of the stuff ive said has been addressed in like interviews or smth, i wouldn't know about it as ive only seen the movies themselves and i don't particularly care to hunt down such footage.
anyways thanks for reading, if you've got this far you're a real one <3
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ITELL ME MORE ABOUT BRACKEN AND MASKED QUEER PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP PLEASE. OR DRAW IT . BEGGINF FRIEND I NEED TO SEE .NEED TO KNOW WHAT IS THEIR DYNAMIC TELL ME HOW THEY FEEL
(CAN I ASK WHOS FRONTING I NEED TO FROTH ABOUT THIS AND USE THE RIGHT REFERRAL )
Everythjgn... Beneath The Cut. Prepare Thyself.
Both are dead. Both are alive. Both can die, and both are immortal. (holdon I need to write this in story format or else nothing I Mean will come across.,) (tgis was written in one sitting while my brain was mush I Hope that explains. Things)
The corpse is beautiful. The body is warm in its lap, the thick material of the Mask's host's covering hardly disguising the shifting of flesh beneath. An intricate man-made second skin. It does not yet know what to do with the face peering up at it.
There is light, drifting through the ceiling. It catches on the edges of the Mask, stark and wonderful. It curls a hand around infinitely fragile flesh, heedless to the rustle of its own foliage as it dares to settle into this place, where it fits as perfectly as it always has. A human hand reaches up and cradles its jaw, its clumsy thumb gliding smoothly over the edge of its beak. It could open its jaws and do something terrible. It does not.
Time is impossibly long. It is also impossibly short. It has been a mere two weeks, and, already, the Mask is falling apart yet again. The sickly scent of rot is more than welcome by this point. It has known the other and has kept its corpses for long enough to desire such vile things, seeking the scent of rot whenever it is lost in the winding, empty halls. A home to return to.
Another stroke. The Mask accidentally pierces itself with the tip of its beak. Blood spills, thick and black. Beautiful. It cranes its head downward, gently shaking the curious, bleeding hand away. The hand settles, instead, in the soft foliage just beginning to grow around the width of its shoulders. A hitched sound, soft and gurgling. A sharp clatter of delight, the Mask trembling around the edges in its tired wonder, despite this being nothing new to it. The hard material of its beak clicks against the white surface of the Mask, lightly tapping against it. Affection, soft and warm. Foreign. The glow of its eyes reflects back at itself.
It is going to die. The Mask, too, is going to die. They are both going to die. Luck will not last forever; one day, the Mask will be found by another, and it will lose the other forever. One day, it itself will meet its own fate, by either blade or bullets. Hiding away as they both do now is the only respite. They can not hide forever.
Warmth. Warmth against the soft expanse of its bared throat. A hand—the Mask's hand—gentle. Gentle. It is a wonder that a rotting thing remembers tenderness.
-
It stares up at its monster. The body fires slow, delayed responses, nerves trembling before the enormous thing, instinctually still beneath stark white eyes. The fear devours the body, strange and dissonant. The Mask smiles, smiles, and smiles, partly because it is all it can do. Mostly because it is what it wants to do.
Its creature is gentle. It has to be. Otherwise, the Mask's host will crumble and fall apart beneath its claws. They two have done this a thousand times before. One is always dying in the arms of the other. Only one is lucky enough to live past death. It is so happy; it has its head in its oldest friend's lap. To die with it is a gift.
A hand, softened with decay, frail against the monster's throat. Its monster is warm. It is comforting.
A foreign thought. Five more minutes. But five minutes is hardly enough. It will never be enough.
The tips of the monster's claws hook carefully beneath the edges of the Mask, familiar with this routine. It's smiling. It's glad.
It is pulled from its host. It goes willingly. The host's hand sags away from its beasts throat.
Then, after drawling moments of lingering wakefulness spent impossibly warm within large, clawed hands; a dream.
It is a very lovely dream. In it, its monster holds it close, forever and ever. Until the end of time, until it is devoured by death. Until it, too, falls asleep, and dreams a very lovely dream.
(In it, it is holding the Mask, bathed in sunlight. The dream goes on and into an eternity that the eye can not see.)
#lethal company#lethal company masked#lethal company bracken#koukart#queer platonic relationship#yea so you know what i mean when i say qpp life partners#this may or may not slightly tie into my masked hc post#(the masks leaving themselves in warm places when the host is too rotted to continue using)#this was written Really quickly because i HAD to get this out of my brain#excuse any typos or weird sentences:#rrurgrrhrhr#kokadrafts
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ROTTMNT Moths Fly In Packs - Chapter Eight
A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OH MY GOD. I genuinely didn’t expect it to, chapter 8 was supposed to be way shorter but uh yk my brain didn’t like that apparatnly. So now it’s uh 10K words. I think it’s genuinely worth the wait and read tho so hey, alls well that ends well or something. I’m gonna try to be faster with updates now. I’m FAIRLY CERTAIN chapter nine will be much shorter or at least nothing crazy like 8 or 10k. But what I can guarantee is chapters 10-13 will most definitely be short and lead up to the grand arc finale of chapter 14. We’re getting pretty close to it and I’m literally vibrating from excitement but no spoilers. Anyway enjoy the chapter! :D
Credit to: @sweaterrat and @yosajaeofficial for being my beloved beta readers! This story wouldn’t be able to have the quality it does without them so please give them some love and check out their ROTTMNT stories too!
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chapter One
Disclaimer: Chapter involves depressive thoughts, mentions of bullying, depressed behavior, mentions of Kr*ng, PTSD behavior, violence, very lightly graphic description of injuries, blood, and curse words. If you’re sensitive to that stuff, scroll past and stay safe!
Outside the window, you can make out a bird’s nest sat in one of the trees. It’s been here for a week now, perfectly timed with when I got back to a consistent school life. But lately, the mother’s been staying at the nest more often. I’m guessing they’ve got babies on the way, she’s probably incubating her eggs right now. I think I’ve gotten attached to them, that small family of robins. The parents are so dedicated, aren’t they? The mother especially, never leaving the nest unless absolutely necessary.
On the contrary to my peaceful view, the classroom is noisy, hectic, and cluttered. No real science work for today so everyone’s just doing their own thing. Very loudly. Jaiden and Zane are chatting and laughing with each other next to me. I think things are better between us, I still don’t really know where Jaiden and I stand right now but at least Zane seems fine with me. Though I won’t lie, I’ve been feeling more and more like a third wheel around them.
“Dude! I’m telling you, we have to play this game together! We’d have so much fun!”
“I already said I would, Jaiden! Man, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh like this. Shame you’re letting such a pretty smile go to waste.”
“Yeah? Let’s hang out more often then and maybe I won’t do that.”
Like right now.
Lowkey, I’ve been feeling invisible around those two. Jaiden barely pays any attention to me, it’s as if Zane was their best friend instead of me! I mean, I know friends can drift apart, I definitely know. But still, I never imagined it would happen to us. I still don’t wanna believe that’s what’s happening. I wanna keep hope.
“And ironically, you’re being pretty quiet today, Salena. Did you two switch personalities or something?”
“You are weirdly quiet, actually. What’s up?”
Oh lookie, I’ve been acknowledged. “Nah, you guys don’t have to worry about me. Just lower on energy than usual.”
I went back to my routine of staring out the window like the main character in a music video. In the reflection, Zane was still watching me. With the way his eyes lingered, I had a feeling he’s not falling for my excuse.
Seems like Jaiden’s not too worried, though. “Oh, Zane! You wanna hear about this new skate park I found?” Just went right back at it with Zane. Who’s weirdly still staring at me.
“…Actually, I’m kinda hungry. Jaiden, you mind getting me a snack from the vending machine?”
“Huh? But I wouldn’t know what to get you. N-not that I don’t pay attention to what you like! But, you know… Salena has better taste in these things! She should go-”
“She always goes.”
“‘Cause she knows what she’s doing.”
“Jaiden.”
“Guys, it’s fine! It’s fine. I’ve got this.” I didn’t want them to fight again so I got up from my seat. “Be back soon.”
Jaiden gave me their most gleeful smile I’ve seen them make in a while. I think seeing them smile makes this gesture worthwhile. Even if it’s just for a little bit.
The walk to the vending machine shouldn’t have been long, it’s not super far away. But my legs dragged on forcing each step to be slower than the last. I feel guilty thinking like this but a part of me wants this dumb walk to go on forever. I can’t stand being near them and I don’t know why! It’s not like we’ve got bad blood, they’ve both been normal towards me since I came back. So why am I acting like this? I’m seriously starting to doubt Splinter’s theory of me not being the problem here…
I approached the machine, stopping as I heard a struggling voice in front of me.
“Argh! How’d she say these things worked again?”
His finger pressed against the glass, tracing the code for the snack he wanted. He tapped the buttons on the screen. Nothing happened. Scratching his head, he leaned forward to read the next instructions. Finally, he pulled out a dollar bill.
…Before proceeding to insert it in the wrong way. And taking it out. And inserting it back in. And repeating the process. I can feel my soul exiting my body from second-hand embarrassment.
I recognized the fluffy black hair. With a crooked smile, I pulled out my own wallet.
“You’re supposed to put it in this way.” I slid my bill into the slot, the granola bar he selected successfully being pushed down soon after. “Good to see you again.”
“Woah, cool!” He stared at the giant food box almost with a childlike wonder, pausing for a few minutes before turning to me. “And hey! Yeah, it’s really nice seeing you again, too.” His eyes remained locked for a while before he scrambled to hand me the bill he had. “Here! Let me pay you back-“
“No, no, no, don’t worry about it! Really! Consider it my apology for, um, last time.”
“Apology? I mean, you weren’t the one doing anything weird so I don’t think you’ve gotta apologize.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Casey Jones Jr. I was gonna introduce myself the first time we met but, you know.”
“Salena Moni! So, how’s everything holding up? You joined pretty late in the year so if you need any help reviewing stuff I’m more than happy to.”
“Oh, don’t worry! It’s actually going alright. Still technically my first time going to a real school, so it’s a little bit of a challenge but I already knew most of the material anyways. I didn’t have to catch up on much.”
“Wow, that is… remarkably impressive.” If only I handled transferring as well as this guy. “Wait, hold up, real school? Were you homeschooled?”
“You could… say that. My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew! Just turns out it was literally everything.”
“Cool! I guess we can check grades off the box, then! So, is everyone being nice? Made any friends?”
I bit my lip as I received my answer in the form of his face freezing mid-speech. “W-well uh…”
Oh, you poor thing…
I guess he could read my face since he immediately tried reassuring me, as if he wasn’t the victim in this scenario. “I-I mean it’s not awful! A couple people were nice to me, including you! Sure, some are a little… hostile. But it’ll get better eventually.”
“Y-yeah! It definitely… definitely will.”
And cue the classic awkward silence that stars in any first conversation. A little overdue for this one now that I’m thinking about it.
I’m so conflicted. I know damn well he’s not gonna have the high school dream he’s probably imagining right now. No one does. I may not have been at this school for long, but I’ve been here long enough to know how the people are. April told me it gets even worse every year as cliques start getting established and people grow past the initial politeness. I’m glad she did, she never kept anything about high school from me no matter how bad it was. Nothing was in my control but at least I knew it was coming.
And here I am playing the exact opposite role for Casey. I hate giving people false hope, I hate it with a passion! But I’m supposed to, I think. In a situation like this I’m supposed to hype him up. Ignorance is bliss! Wouldn’t it just ruin his spirits if I broke the glass?
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you! I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Y-yep! Hope things get better for you soon!”
“Me too.”
Ugh, the guilt is eating me up! I’m acting like I’ve never told a lie in my life but it’s not that. It’s his pure mindset that’s completely fucking with my morality!
I know to keep my mouth shut, I do. I don’t want him to hate me like everyone else does. I haven’t met someone who’s been so nice to me in this stupid ass school before, I don’t want to ruin this chance now that I finally got it. Plus, he might not even believe me…
I watched him turn to walk away.
Fuck it, social norms are for losers!
“W-wait! Casey?” He turned back around and I nearly shit myself from fear. “So, don’t be mad but I may have um… lied about something?”
“Uh, sorry?”
I took a deep breath, bracing myself. “Well, here’s the deal. Things aren’t really gonna get better, sorry. Or, actually! I don’t mean that extremely literally, I guess...”
Focus on your hands, it’ll be okay. “Just… People here are mean. Really, really mean. You’re homeschooled, you’re new, and you’re nice. It’s a recipe for disaster here whether it’s today or even a year after you’ve settled in!”
I can’t even read his expression and get an idea of his reaction. He’s got a scary good poker face, I’m curious which relative taught him that one.
“Casey, please don’t take this the wrong way. I-I’m not saying any of it is your fault! Or that you need to change or do anything. I’m only saying this so you don’t have any… unrealistic expectations so to speak.”
God, his silence is more terrifying than anticipated.
So much so I couldn’t help letting out a quiet breath of relief when he finally did speak. “You know, you’re the first person here who’s told me that.”
“…Is that bad?”
“Not at all. All my family, they never got the chance to go to school. Hell, I didn’t think I’d have the opportunity. But here I am! First time in a new building with weird people and absolutely no clue what to expect. I’m usually good with surprises but this one is just so… different. Different is scary, you know?”
I nodded. I most definitely did know.
“Anyway, you’re right that people are just mean here. I don’t even know why, I mean, I’ve met my fair share of dicks before but at least they had good reasons! We were under so much stress… But that’s not what I hate. It’s the fact that any time I tell an adult, they say the same thing over and over again!”
“Let me guess.” I cleared my throat and enhanced the performance with my intoxicated Mrs. Doubtfire voice. “Just ignore them and give it time and it’ll magically fix itself ‘cause boredom beats bullies or some shit, right?”
“Yeah, exactly!” His laugh is like holding your parent’s hand when you’re getting the flu shot, it’s magical! “They say that to everyone, don’t they? God, what’s up with that? I’m so not used to adults lying to me.”
“Dude, what? You’re kidding, your whole community’s gotta be amazing if you’ve never been lied to by an adult.”
“Eh, more or less… Anyway, um, thank you. For telling me the truth. And the granola bar. I seriously owe you for this.”
…I take it back, Splinter might’ve actually been onto something.
I mean, he’s a little strange, I won’t lie about that. This is the first time I’ve heard someone actually be grateful for me telling the truth. In the past it either got me isolated or in huge trouble, depending on who I was honest with. Maybe this is why I’m so used to lying. I hate it but I’ve had to do it so much. I’ve never met someone who finally lets me relax about it, not until Casey Jr it seems.
Maybe he deserves me being a little braver for a change.
“Well, here’s a way you can repay me. By us being friends!”
…
This was a lot more epic in my head without his speechless pause. Maybe I got the vibe wrong-
“REALLY!? OMIGOSH! That would be so cool! I’ve literally been thinking about asking you the same thing ‘cause I keep wanting to talk to you but never run into you but now we can talk whenever we want, IT’LL BE GREAT!!!” Spoke too soon, he is literally shaking me by the shoulders. It feels unnatural not being on the other side of this scenario.
“Casey, my stomach doesn’t approve of this-“
“Sorry, sorry!” He finally stopped and allowed me to remember the pleasant feeling of absolute stillness. “I just can’t believe you actually wanna be friends with me!”
Still, his surprising enthusiasm gave me a good laugh. “Dude, it’s alright! It’s kinda more surprising you wanna be friends with me.”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met in my entire life, anyone who’s friends with you is lucky to have you!”
Lucky to have me?
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, unexpected compliments go burn in a fire but also don’t leave, it actually feels really nice.
“Salena, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”
“N-no, I mean, all I did was buy you a snack and tell you people are jerks. I’m not too sure I should be receiving the title of the ‘kindest person you’ve ever met’ and stuff.”
“O-oh yeah, you have a point.” He got a little flustered at that, despite it really being my fault for not being able to take compliments. “I don’t know, I mean, I still think you’re really cool. I’m just so happy you wanna be friends with me!”
He looked like a child on Christmas morning as I tippy-tapped my number into his phone. Come to think of it, I know I’ve definitely reacted excitedly towards certain people - or turtles, I should say - but having someone do it to me? Feels kinda nice.
I looked up at the clock. “Shit. We should probably head back to class before we get in trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But hey,” his eyes closed as the corners delightfully wrinkled “it was great running into you again! Fate really wants us to be friends.”
He has a really nice smile.
“Funny how life works, ay?”
I skipped my way back to class, mind too deep in thought to realize how fast I went.
This guy, Casey Jones, he’s giving me certain vibes. I don’t mean the creepy, stalkerish, "I need to get the hell outta here” vibes. More like deja-vu. I can’t pin what exactly, but something about him feels so… foreign yet familiar. Homey, if you may. Like a nice, warm fire in mid-winter night. It’s really soothing.
And immediately I’m thrown into emotional whiplash as I went back inside the annoying ass classroom of teenage chaos. So much for soothing vibes. I plopped back in my desk as Zane slowly scanned me.
“You took a while. Did you get my snack?…”
…Fuck. “Sorry! I completely forgot!”
“How did you forget when it’s the literal reason you even left?” Jaiden doesn’t seem as chipper as before.
“I know, I’m so sorry. I got a bit distracted. Gimmie a sec, I’ll be right back-”
“No, wait! It’s fine, I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Really? Okay, suit yourself.” I shrugged, getting settled in again. He leaned closer to me, both confused and concerned.
“You seem happier right now. Did something good happen?”
“Oh, yeah, I guess! Just ran into a new friend.”
His face scrunched up, going back to chatting with Jaiden. I have no clue why he glared when I said that, I don’t think I said anything wrong or alarming. Honestly, bro has worse mood swings than I do. It's seriously annoying sometimes but whatever, they’ve gone back to their little bubble now so I shall go back to mine.
I pulled out my phone, greeted with Casey’s excited text already.
CJ: Hey! Not really doing anything in class so if you’re free too, text me back :D
Smiling, I let myself get engrossed in my phone, happily typing away. He’s a fun guy to talk to. His enthusiasm and bubbliness is a little surprising considering how borderline timid he seemed at first. Goes to show, never judge a book by its cover! I felt my mood lifting, less gloomier than before.
Until I remembered something he said.
“My uncle taught me everything, he was the smartest person I knew!”
Was?...
***
Ah, midnight. A time when the mentally sane and emotionally stable would be sleeping. Turns out I’m neither of those folks, I’ve got better things to do. I have weapons now but I’ve gotta actually practice using them if I don’t wanna render them useless. Besides, in bed or out here, I’m not falling asleep either way. At least this serves as a good distraction! And won’t give me a headache like my phone will.
The blades cut through the air as I twirled them, striking at an imaginary enemy soon after.
I try not to think about life when I’m training, it distracts me too much. Sometimes I feel like Casey’s the only thing making school bearable anymore. We don’t share any classes so we text more than talk but I don’t have to do any mental gymnastics to figure out how he views me. I’m still confused as hell if Jaiden likes me or hates me and have no damn clue what Zane’s deal is anymore. He keeps staring at me. More than usual. Sure, I could always sit there and ponder for hours on end what the fuck is going on, but I doubt even that’d get any results.
The sickles, however, do show results. They feel lighter, smoother, easier to duel. I’m getting faster with them and my arms don’t feel as broken after training anymore! It’s something I can lose myself in, track the improvement. It’s so much simpler than everything else.
It keeps my mind occupied. If I focus on them, I don’t think about anyone from school or anything bad that’s happening! Or at least, I usually don't. I guess I’m thinking about it now, though…
“Someone’s training hard.”
“AHH!!!”
Immediately I jerked to turn and held up a blade in defense. However, it turned out to be a false alarm as instead of some midnight mugger I expected to see, I’m greeted with a smirking blue idiot standing in front of me.
“Woah, hey! I come in peace!” The stupid bitch held his hands up, mocking me with his fake fear. “Been a while, huh?”
“Leo? Oh god, you scared me! Where did you even come from?”
“The better question would be: Where did you disappear to? We haven’t gone out in like a week! You kept leaving me on read when I texted you but seemed fine in the group chat. What gives?”
“…I forgor?”
“Really?” I could tell he wasn’t satisfied by my answer. “You just forgot to respond to me? Every single time?”
“W-well sorta. I mean, it’s nothing you did so please don’t take it personally! It’s with everyone. I’ve just been a little bad at responding to dms…” My social battery’s been so low lately I question if it’s even charged at all. “That’s entirely on me, though! I’m so sorry.”
He crossed his arms and looked me up and down. He’s doing that nonchalant poker face again, the one he does when he doesn’t wanna be read, otherwise he’s an open book.
“You know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”
I guess he also does that face when he’s trying to read someone else. “Yeah, I know. I’m alright. It’s just… I dunno, things are a little weird but it’s fine. It’s really nothing to worry about.”
He hummed in response. I don’t really think he bought it but his eyes eventually drifted to my weapons, dropping the topic regardless. He must not wanna push it.
“Sooo, sick weapons! Where’d you get ‘em?”
“Oh, these? Draxum gave them to me!”
He gagged, interrupting me. “You met Draxum? The sheep guy? Oh, poor you! Was he awful to deal with? I bet he was! You know, like always.”
“Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad! A little grouchy at first but in his defense, I caught him in the middle of his shift, so.”
“Please, sheep bitch doesn’t need a reason to be a jerk! He’s just an old cranky loser who spends his days yelling at kids and smuggling whatever mystic bullshit of the week he found from the Hidden City! It’s giving Oscar the Grouch, just missing the lemon. Oh wait, that’s ‘cause unlike Oscar, he doesn’t even have one single thing that makes him uncharacteristically happy!”
“Wow, angry aren’t we?” It’s rude to laugh, but I can’t help myself around this dork. He looks like a kid who got denied an Xbox when he crosses his arms like that. “Leo, be real. This is because he threw you off a roof, isn’t it?”
“You know!? I mean-“ He laughed, trying to hide his poorly made lie. “What? Of course not… Maybe just a little but that’s not important.”
Leo grumbled on with some incoherent noises for a minute, before cooling down and moving on from the “sheep bitch”.
“Ugh, well anyway, if you got it from that moron, they’re definitely mystic or something, right?”
“Oh, absolutely! They’re actually super cool, I mean-“ For a good five minutes I kept blabbering on and on about the sickles and how they function and all my progress that I didn’t notice Leo - bless his heart - trying and horrifically failing to pay attention. He doesn’t really hide it well when he spaces out.
“And they- Uh, Leo, you good?”
“…Would you be mad if I said I got like, none of that?”
I sighed but gave a gentle smile. I knew he had a short attention span so I can’t really act like it’s his fault I forgot about that.
“Actually, do you want me to just like… act it out instead? I think I’ve gotten pretty good at using these so I don’t mind showing instead of telling!”
He shrugged “Nothin’s stopping you. Go on, impress me!”
Well, nothing except my nerves. But hey, it’s just Leo. If I mess up, he’ll laugh with me a bit and then I’ll just retry. No real pressure around him. I could use a progress check right now, anyway.
“Aight, so we only know two out of who knows how many powers for these things, they’re the only two I’ve been practicing. First up!”
I spun them around, careful to not mess up my handling. My goal is to form blades strong enough to crack a dent through the concrete edge of this building. So the sickles need to be made out of metal or steel. I usually go with metal but I do actually wanna impress him and steel’s stronger. I aimed at the edge and swung my arm forward, the sickle shot through the air and sliced through the concrete like a knife to a cake.
“OH SHIT!”
“I got it!” He teleported to catch the flying solo sickle and came right back within a matter of seconds. Oh, what I’d give to experience never having to walk again.
“Sorry about that! They’ve never broken the edge like that before!”
“Sorry!? You’re not allowed to be sorry, that was so cool! It went clean through!” I’ve never seen him gush about something this way. I’ve gotta admit, it’s kind of adorable. “Okay, I’m hooked! What’s the other thing it can do?”
“Invisibility! But I can’t do it for long, at least not yet. I made progress, though! Went from only three seconds to five!”
“Wait, actually, back up a bit. I get that Baron Ass told you how the sickles work and blah blah blah, but how’d you learn how to fight with ‘em? Ya know, the non-mystic aspects.”
“Oh, YouTube tutorials at first. But honestly, sickle fighting is mid so I did a lot of improv, really.”
He chuckled and eventually lost to his giggles as if me saying that wasn’t completely justified. “Did you just call an ancient form of martial arts mid?”
“Stop judging me, I’m right! Sickles were improvised weapons. They’re good for the last resort, not the first choice!”
“I’m not judging, I’m not judging! Promise! I respect it, even!” He leaned against the roof’s edge, gradually collecting himself. “But if they’re that bad, why didn’t you ask for a different weapon? One that’s cooler and not ‘the last resort’?”
Oh boy, where to begin?
I then explained how I essentially found myself wrapped in some “chosen one” bullshit through the sickles. They still don’t work any time Barry touches them but are perfectly fine in my hands. It’d be pretty dumb to pass up these weapons for a different one, even if sickles aren’t the coolest thing to own. Although, he’s definitely acting like they are judging by how intensely his eyes are staring at them. They’re sparkling brighter than I thought eyes realistically could.
“Well, now I’m offended! Mystic mystery sickles that do all kinds of glowy stuff for you specifically? How could you not tell me about these sooner!? They’re so amazing!”
“I know, I’m real sorry, Leon.” He’s joking around, his tone’s too light to be mad. But I do still feel bad for accidentally ignoring him like that. “Anything I can do for you as an apology?”
“Well…” His smirk revealed that thing was the main reason he came here in the first place. “We could make up for the lost time and go on a run together tonight. It is a weekend so you’d still have tomorrow and the day after to rest up. But hey, that’s just an idea…”
It's Friday again. Just like the first time we did this.
He held out his hand as an offer and I took it with a grin. “You make a convincing argument.”
And off we went, dashing through the night. It’s a bit humid today so the wind from sprinting so fast is greatly appreciated. Not to mention my speed is so much better than before!
The daily restrictions of civil life can go suck my dick and feed my liver to their uncles ‘cause oh my god nothing beats this feeling! No one else is here, no one who could stop us! Sure, jumping off roofs isn’t the safest way to have fun, but everything else in my life is already so safe! I’m allowed to have this one thing, this one moment to be free.
I’m so distracted that I didn’t realize I’m actually giving Leo a run for his money this time! Hehe, run. God, I’m so funny.
“Looks like you can actually keep up with me now!”
“I know, right!? It feels fucking amazing!”
Judging from his mischievous ass face, I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut. “I don’t mean to burst your bubble but…”
A blue light appeared as a hole ripped in the sky and the lovely piece of shit went right through, appearing again somewhere way ahead of me. “I’m still faster!~”
“Hey! No portals allowed!”
“Uh, last time I checked, portalling is totally allowed.”
“Says who!?”
“Says me and I’m leader! Whatever leader says goes!”
To add insult to injury, he doesn’t just portal himself. As I’m trying to catch up to him mid-jump, the jackass opens a portal right under me, sending me back even further than I already was with no time to recover.
“Leo, you cheat!”
Bro’s giggling his ass off as he blinked in and out of sight. I’m no different with how sore my face is, so I can’t even pretend to be mad.
Instead, all I can do is try my best to speed up and catch up, plotting my revenge in the meantime. Easier said than done, that dude’s faster than the Flash right now since he’s, ya know, portalling. Doesn’t help that he keeps appearing right next to me every few minutes just to taunt me and disappear again.
A few minutes into our little cat and mouse game though, I lost track of him and he hadn’t shown up in a while to pester me. So, I started calling out his name, trying to look for him. You’d think it’d be easier to find a 5’5” giant, green turtle man but I guess they wouldn’t be ninjas if that were the case.
“Leo? Leo!? Le- Huh?”
I finally found him. But instead of the shit-eating grin he gave me earlier, he’s silent and still behind the edge of a roof, his back facing me. It’s starting to freak me out a little, he looks like he’s going fucking Blair Witch mode. No words, no witty remarks, nothing. Just ghostly staring at whatever the view is. Only thing I can see from here is a museum.
“Hey, Leon, you okay?”
“Shh!”
With his eyes still fixed up ahead, Leo took my hand and guided me forward. He eventually looked at me and nodded towards the street below us. Gazing in that direction, I saw a large purple truck with the logo of that one weird shoe store I browsed a few years ago. From what I’ve gathered these past few weeks, big trucks mean bad news.
But maybe that’s not what I should be focused on. Standing near the truck were two people, their skin an unnatural shade of purple. One’s large and brutish, the other tall and slender. They’ve got foot marks on their faces and flames on their bald heads. Exactly how Mikey described…
“The Foot Clan.”
He nodded. “I don’t understand, those guys were all turned into Krang during the invasion.”
Sorry, what? “You’re sure it was those two specifically? I haven’t heard about any cures or vaccines for the Krang victims on the news. It’d make headlines if there were.” I haven’t heard anything about them for a while now that I think about it.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He leaned closer to the edge, as close as he could get without getting caught. “They’re parked a street away from a museum, the hell are they up to now?”
I mimicked his actions, trying to hear the Foot people better. The slender one’s on the phone, sounding frustrated. He’s doing that whisper-yelling thing people do when they wanna be mad quietly to avoid societal shame.
“Yeesh, someone’s having a bad day.”
“You can hear them?” Why does he look so confused?
“Yeah, can’t you?”
Leo shook his head. “Whatever, what are they saying?”
I cocked my head to the side, spying in on their conversation.
His voice is scratchy, a little sore on my ears. “What do you mean you can’t get it off? Just bring the whole thing and hurry! We can’t risk alerting anyone!” Neither of us can tell what he’s referring to, unfortunately. The Foot dude avoids naming it.
I looked back at Leo scanning around for any clues. He stared at the back of the museum for a minute before his eyes widened. “I know where we are. It’s the Historical Society Museum. Donnie mentioned wanting to come here once.”
“I think I’ve heard of it. Isn’t there a lot of ancient stuff in there? Like, from centuries back?”
Nodded again. He’s being unnervingly quiet, considering it’s Leo. He stared at the clan, then at the museum, then back at the clan. He looked… scared. Scared in a way I’ve never seen him before. I felt my hand being subconsciously squeezed. I didn’t even notice he hadn’t let go in the first place.
…I have to help him.
I readied myself for whatever his idea was, no matter how outlandish or risky it may seem. “Alrighty, what’s the plan?”
“Right.” He hesitated, before gripping his katanas and turning back. “…The plan is for me to portal you home, kick some Foot ass, and pick you up so we can continue our run.”
WHAT!?
“What do you mean ‘portal me home!? I’m not leaving!” I was prepared for anything, but this!? “We just stumbled across the Foot Clan who are for some reason not freaky alien zombies and messing with ancient artifacts that do who knows what!”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m sending you home before your adrenaline junkie ass can do something stupid.”
“And what makes you think I’d do that!?”
He held up my scarred left arm and stared at me unimpressed.
“…Okay, that’s a low blow even for you.”
Though as much as I hate to admit it, he kind of has a point. I sighed. “Alright, tell me. If I leave, will you at least call your brothers to help you out?”
“Yes!”
“Leo.”
“Fine, I lied.” The steel fucking balls of- “But still! I’ll be okay! I’ve gone against them plenty of times before.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re invincible!”
Before I could say anything more, I heard the sound of a truck starting up. I looked down and Leo followed my line of sight to see the Foot getting ready to drive.
Shit, they’re getting away!
“Okay, okay! Listen, I promise, I promise I won’t run off on my own and do something dumb this time. Anything the leader says goes! Just please let me join!” I can’t leave him alone!
I could sense him debating on what to do. His eyes look so conflicted, there’s definitely more than what he’s telling me. Nevertheless, I’m not budging. I don’t wanna sit at home being useless and worry the entire time.
He took a deep breath in, and let out a loud sigh. He looked at me with a defeated smile. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”
“Nope.”
“Alright, fine, but you’re sticking close.”
Before I could celebrate too much, I felt the ground beneath me disappear into bright blue light. Not anything sudden, more gentle really. Even then, I felt disoriented with my feet going from firmly grounded to touching the air! Not to mention how light my whole body felt. Gravity did a complete 180 and I got flipped around, landing under the truck.
I nearly lost my grip but a hand on my back kept me in place long enough for me to recollect myself. Leo portalled us here.Well, obviously he did, it just caught me off guard again. It’s not really too bad going through his portals but it sure is a fucking trip when it’s unexpected. Either way, it got the job done.
They drove for quite a damn while. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience having to cling on to the bottom of a moving truck as the only scents to breathe in were that of oil and gasoline, but we probably looked super cool! My ears disagreed but oh well. They parked in front of a mall this time. Not just any mall, the fucking World Trade Center! We’re literally on the other side of the city, what on Earth could they need here?
I wanted to follow them in but Leo was against it. He said it’d be safer for us to spy from a distance for now so we went to the roof of a neighboring building, looking in at them. The Foot are on one of the higher floors, almost seeming like they’re scavenging for something.
Leo’s trying to figure out another way in for us. I still don’t understand why we didn’t just follow them. I know Leo’s not a total reckless nutcase or anything, but being this cautious felt a little unlike him.
“Hey, look, I don’t mean to shoot your own words back at you or anything. But you know you can tell me if something’s up, right?”
For a split second, he looked different. His eyes were dead, his lips shut and neutral. He stared at me but he looked so… lost. Empty.
And then his smile returned, face back to normal. Or at least what he convinced me was normal. I’m not so sure anymore. He flicked my forehead again. Even softer than the first time he did it. “Stop worrying so much! You’re gonna give yourself a chasm worse than Raph’s.”
I didn’t know how to take it from there. So I just watched him.
He eventually decided on portalling us into the building’s vent system. It’s a little cramped but was the only place we can eavesdrop without being immediately spotted. Though honestly, I don’t mind this one bit! I’m controlling the impulsive adrenaline ,however, he didn’t say shit about internal adrenaline! I can’t help it if stealth makes me giddy!
“Hehe! It’s like we’re in a movie!”
“Love your enthusiasm as always but remember to not get too caught up in it.”
I momentarily shoved my excitement to the side as we both tried listening in on the Foot Clan. The skinny dude, who I now know to be the Lieutenant, is barking orders at the rest of the soldiers scouting around while talking to the giant Brute.
“You disabled the cameras, correct? You know we can’t make it any harder for them!”
“Of course I did, it’s a no-brainer! Why’d ya have to ask it like that?” Woah, villain or not, his New Yorker accent is one to admire! “You know, sometimes I feel like you think I’m just stupid and nothin’ more.”
“Oh, don’t start now. Focus on finding good metal. The sooner we finish this the better.”
Hearing his raspy voice makes my own throat itch a little. I lightly clawed at it, trying to not make too much noise as I moved.
I leaned a little closer to Leo “What do you think they need metal for?”
“Not sure. Could be to make more soldiers or something? It’d be a cool upgrade from their paper soldiers.”
Leo’s tone seems a little lighter than before, I’m glad to hear him joke around again. “They could make paper soldiers?”
“Yeah! And they’re completely sentient, one of them even became besties with Raph! Anyway,” he pointed down at a handful of soldiers collecting metal artifacts “they’re probably trying to make those origami soldiers again with something stronger.”
“But how would you fold metal?”
“Beats me, Mikey would know more on this. He’s figuring out how to recreate whatever spell they used so we could get some help with patrolling. Word of advice though, salami origami does not work as a substitute.”
“No shit. Who’s bright idea was that?”
“...You don’t know him.” His guilty face says it all.
We were giggling a little too loudly, I suppose. One of the Foot dudes stopped and started listening for our voices again. He shrugged and moved on soon enough. I didn’t realize I was covering my mouth till I let myself breathe again.
“We should probably be a little quieter and take this stealth thing more seriously.”
I nodded in agreement. He’s not upset, honestly he’s struggling just as much as I am to choke down more giggles. It’s like we’re hiding under a blanket during a sleepover pretending we’re not awake in front of the parents and not in a likely life or death situation spying on the black-magic cult. I’m trying my best but it’s already hard enough to keep my adrenaline addiction in check and Leo being here makes it worse in the best ways possible.
Still, I don’t wanna know what happens if we get cau- What was that creaking sound?
CLANG!
It would seem those were not really sturdy vents.
You know that moment from the Ice Age sequel when the vultures surround the main cast with hungry, devilish eyes ready to feast on them at any given moment? Yeah, let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised if the Foot Clan randomly bursts into song about “glorious food” full on broadway musical style.
“Uh… Hey, fellas! Long time no see, am I right?” Despite his demeanor, I caught the real reason he raised his hands. I reached back for mine as well.
A sheath of metal filled the air as Leo took his katanas out their case, perfectly timed with the Lieutenant’s new orders.
“GET THEM!”
“Run, hide first then get the stolen thingie if you can. I’ll keep ‘em busy!” Leo charged into the fight, holding them off to make sure they couldn’t get to me.
Unfortunately, there’s like a bajillion of them that can easily outnumber us. I’ve learned to be quite a slippery sprinter but even then two already managed to block my path.
Now would be a good time to turn invisible!
“Come on, come on!” I could barely get the sparks to even start spreading. Turns out stress is a huge fucking factor I neglected in my training.
I wouldn’t have minded if it just took a few seconds to work but the real issue was I couldn’t keep it working. I didn’t even really go invisible, just sorta flashed in and out of transparency for a few seconds! The only reason I haven’t gotten caught yet is ‘cause these two morons are too busy laughing at me.
“Is that really the best you can do!? Whoever you are, little girl, you’ve got your work cut out for you!”
“Oh no! She’s… she’s… blinking like an old flashlight!! We’re so scared!”
…BITC-
Resorted to traditional methods. I made the sickles the consistency of a metal pot and threw it at one of their heads, knocking them down. The other I kicked straight in the chest while they were distracted by their idiot teammate, also knocking them down. I’d love nothing more than to give some extra special attention to them but this old flashlight’s gotta run for the shadows while they’ve got an open chance.
A blue portal opened in front of me. “Hey Salena, so this fight’s a little more intense than I expected and I wanted to quickly check if you’re really sure about-”
“Leo, I’m fine! I’m not leaving mid-battle!”
“No, no, that’s fine! That’s great! Just a reminder there’s no shame in calling it- DUCK!”
Without hesitance, I dropped to the ground right as his sword swung above me to block one of the soldier’s attacks. Maybe I should let Leo handle this guy since I can’t really do much while laying on the floor. Then again, doesn't mean I can’t do anything. And also I don’t have good impulse control.
“OW!!! WHAT THE FUCK!?”
I bit on to his ankle as hard as I desired despite his pleading cries. I didn’t let go until Leo broke out of his shock and finally punched him unconscious. Fighting might actually be a really good way to get out my urges.
“Why-“
“Don’t. If it works, it works.”
I flashed a grin, got back on my feet, and bounced away. I need a better vantage point if I wanna find the stolen item, especially with the chaos over here. I quickly made my way up to the indoor balcony thingie. Terrance? The second floor? Whatever the fuck it is. I’ll have to admit, despite how absolutely pumped I’m feeling right now, it kinda feels nice getting away from the clusterfuck for a bit. I heard Leo still spamming all his dialogue options to keep the main two creeps occupied. Actually, I’m pretty sure I can see them from up here, too.
“So, you guys are looking great! Never thought I’d say this, but I am loving the old look making a return.” His hands did more tricks than usual, keeping his swords flowing like an intricate dance. There are multiple soldiers practically hounding him yet he’s fending them off almost gracefully.
“Can’t you stupid children stay out of our way for one night! There’s great evil being put on the hold right now for your antics!”
“Hey, speaking of evil, what’s with the normal amount of eyes? Not that I’m missing the other option but- GAH!”
And yet, even with Leo’s skilled moves, he’s struggling to keep up with the two leaders specifically. I deadass would’ve been slaughtered by now if I didn’t listen to him about hiding.
“We got some outside help. Now, stop askin’ annoying questions and maybe we’ll go easier on ya!” He swung his axe again, thankfully missing Leo.
I gotta wonder, from Mikey’s stories, they’ve fought the Foot Clan with ease several times in the past. Leo was doing fine just now, too. So why does it look like this could be his first time facing off the Lieutenant and Brute? Nobody’s perfect but I don’t think either of us expected him to lose his grace and become borderline clumsy against them.
Wait, no! Distractions! Leo can handle himself, I need to focus on my own task. Stolen thingie! But where the hell is it?
Just as I was about to think they left it in the truck like common sense would dictate, a soft, reflective red glow caught my eye. The moon was on my side tonight.
“There she is!”
Or maybe I was being too optimistic. In fairness, I should’ve known I couldn’t stay here for long.
It would be really fucking nice to turn invisible now. Sickles? No? Oh, okay, fuck me then I guess.
I hopped off the edge before they could reach me and slinked to the other side of the room, following the red gleam. Despite the sickles betraying me with horrific timing twice tonight, I got them to cover me long enough to reach the ruby ring the glow came from. The light bled past the folds of the drape covering their stolen prize. I lifted it to find a… weird mannequin bust? With arms. Decorated with several ornaments and jewelry including the ring. What the fuck are they using this for, a fashion show?
I flinched to the sound of a loud thud paired with Leo’s groan. Flipping my head behind me, I saw him cornered against a wall, swords shielding him from the Brute’s axes.
“Okay, either you two got a lot stronger or my body isn’t what it used to be.”
I gotta calm myself down, Leo’s a trained ninja and will likely be completely and totally fine! A tiny slip doesn’t mean inevitable doom!
…I hope.
I turned my attention back to the mannequin thing to mentally measure its size. I’m fairly certain it’ll fit inside my backpack, it’s not too big. Just gotta get it in now.
Another sound interrupted me. This time, it was loud metallic clanking off the floor. Leo’s katanas…
“On second thought, maybe it’s both.” His weapons were away from him, too far out of reach. His voice sounded weaker, arms wrapped around his torso.
Oh no.
Neither of them were holding back. As soon as he was down, they were practically hammering at him. His arms were up, defensively blocking his head. I’m supposed to stay away from this. I’m supposed to listen and focus on my task. But I can’t stop my body from turning when I see something like this happening.
He’s in the air now. I need to move. He’s being swung. I need to be faster.
“Let this be a lesson, turtle. Our battles have drastically changed.”
The window shattered from the force of his body.
“LEO!”
I don’t remember ever sprinting this fast, but I was out the window right after through the very hole he created. The height couldn’t scare me if it tried. My arm outstretched, I caught him with one hand and had my sickle in the other. Careful to not dare mess up my timing, it snatched onto a power line just as my blades turned to rubber, thick enough to not get us shocked from the voltage.
“N-nice… nice catch.”
“Thanks.” It’s harder to talk when I’m panting like a dog and trying to limit my shaking limbs.
His weight felt like it would rip my arms apart. I didn’t expect a giant muscular turtle to be light but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Still, some-fucking-how, I’m able to keep us both hanging from the wire, comprehending the fact that we’re not dead. Thank fuck for Raph forcing me to work out sessions.
“You, uh, you doing good up there? You’re breathing kinda heavily. Hey, heavily! Didn’t even mean to make that one!”
“Leo I will drop you.”
He convinced me to suffer a little longer and try to swing him, giving enough momentum for him to catch onto the side of the neighboring building. Then, I swung myself, Leo catching me to soften the landing. We scampered up to the roof, coincidentally the same one we were on a while ago.
“And literally back to square one. Fantastic.” He sighed, clearly annoyed by our failure. His attention quickly shifted once he noticed me rubbing my sore arms. “Hey, you okay? Want me to take a look at you?”
“Me? Take a look at yourself first, idiot!”
I’m not gonna pretend I’m not in pain, but it’s nothing close to the tragedies on his body currently. His arms are bruised and cut from the fight. One was actively bleeding with bits of glass still stuck in some places. Luckily it was the only fleshy place he took damage on, everything else was protected, albeit a little cracked.
“It’s… It’s fine. My shell took most of the hit, anyway.” This bitch. “Besides, I’ve got bigger things to worry about.”
Despite his condition, he started walking to the edge of the roof, heading back towards the WTC.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“To get my katanas back.”
“Oh, no, no, no, you are not going back in there! Can’t you just make new swords or something?”
“And help the foot by practically gifting them Hamato weapons?”
“You said they’re made from your magic! Shouldn’t that protect them from other people trying to use them?”
“I don’t know, we only learned about this ninpo stuff, like, last year! I don’t know enough to be sure nothing will happen if I leave them with the Foot. I’m not doing that.”
“Well, I can’t let you go back.” I stood in front of him to block his path. “We can figure something else out but you are not going back in there! Look at you, it’d be crazy!”
“I was crazy once-” My hand shut his stupid, smug mouth before he could complete the ritual.
“Leo, you were thrown out a window! You’re hurt!”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay! I’ve been through worse! I’m just gonna get my swords back, that’s all.” He put a hand on my shoulder and threw on a fake smile to comfort me. The blood is literally dripping down his arm as he did, defeating the point. I looked back at his eyes, not bothering to hide how furiously concerned I am. If I’m reading him right, he’s not oblivious to reality. He’s a medic, he knows it better than I do.
He took a shaky breath in. “Fine, you’re right that I’m a little hurt. But we can’t waste time patching me up, I need to get my swords! Rule number one of basic survival is never let the Foot come into possession with highly mystic material ever.”
“Then I’ll go while you take care of yourself.”
“NO!” His head perked up as his eyes grew wider. He tried saving his initial reaction. “No way, not happening. It’s a safer plan if I go in, I’m more used to them” Safer for us or for just me.
“And yet, you got beaten to a pulp, isolated from your weapons, thrown out a window, and are now bleeding with shards of glass sticking out your body. Did I miss anything?” He’s neglected himself all night being overly cocky and confident nothing bad would happen to him. That’s what’s led to him turning out like this! “They didn’t exactly go easy on you, Leo-”
“Then imagine what they’d do to you!”
His brows knit together, staring at me, not blinking. I guess my wish was granted since he finally stopped disguising his true fear.
“Salena, please. Stay here, I’m going in.”
I almost let him go. Almost.
Too bad for him, I yanked him by the mask tails and pulled his stunned face back to face me.
“Hey, wh-”
“Alright, listen. I know whoever these guys are, they’re dangerous as fuck. I know I’m nowhere near as skilled of a fighter as you and I probably never will be. And I know I am way in over my head about this. But none of that matters to me.”
He kept quiet. So I continued. “What matters is that I’m your friend. Friends don’t let each other jump into losing battles, okay? You’re hurt, Leo. Please, just let me help you.”
I looked up at the sky. The clouds are covering the moon now and should stay that way for a little while. I could take advantage of the newfound darkness.
I stood on the ledge, mentally preparing myself to reignite the flames. Sure, I talked big about being able to handle myself and whatnot but I’m just trying to fool myself into thinking I’m not scared. If I can keep myself level-headed and use my sickles, I’ll be able to stay invisible for a short bit. If I play my cards right, that should be all I need.
I felt a hand grab my wrist. Turning around, I readied myself to once again reassure Leo I’d be fine but stopped when he put something in my palm. I recognize them, they’re tanto knives.
“Hey.” His smile is forced but not disingenuous.
“You’ve got this.”
So off I went with the last little push I needed. The cool night air feels fantastically refreshing on my skin. Every leap leaves me more confident I’ll succeed. I have to. He needs someone he knows he can depend on.
I scouted around and found an open window to sneak back in through. Judging by how crazy strong these guys are, my best bet is the element of surprise and for these oversized lethal boomerangs to actually work in my favor. Which they hadn’t before. But nothing’s ever hopeless. The reflection off the moon was their main source of light, with the clouds hiding it now and my knowledge of the floor’s layout, I think I might have a working plan this time.
I rushed over to the balcony I was at previously, this time being more cautious of any look-outs. There were three of them up here so I’m glad I didn’t choose the reckless route. I took my sickles out my backpack, breathed in, and turned invisible. A little harder to do since my nerves haven’t completely disappeared but it’s going smoother than before.
I snuck up to the soldier at the back of the trio, covering his mouth and dragging him to the dark, knocking him out shortly after. His two buddies were a piece of cake after that, hit one with a blunt-force sickle and take the other by hand at the same time. No one noticed a thing.
With the balcony cleared, I reclaimed my little sighting spot and looked over the entire floor, making note of every nook and cranny I could hide in. The clan’s focus changed since last time, they’re trying to get out as fast as possible. Seems like they’re taking Leo’s katanas with them since Lieutenant Itchy McSore-Throat was holding onto them.
“All of you hurry up! We must get out of here!”
I spotted the stolen mannequin in the distance. It’s actually not too far and surprisingly not removed. The two leaders seem distracted by someone. Perfect timing. I crept down and started taking out some more soldiers, listening in to the conversation at the same time.
“What about getting all the mystic metal we can?” That’s a new voice.
“Forget the metal, we’ve got enough for today. We need to leave or that turtle will bring reinforcements!”
“Yeah, sure, whatever makes ya happy, boss.”
“You better not be questioning my authority.”
“Our authority, he means. We’ve had your type before, and they grew to be traitors. I suggest you don’t test the patience of the Foot ‘cause it’s growin’ thin.”
“Nice phrasing! Even if you shouldn’t have interrupted me.” I can’t tell if these two have workplace tension or workplace bromance anymore. “But he’s right. You’d do well to remember your place, rookie.”
“Hey, I wasn’t tryna question anything guys. Just sayin’ maybe we should’ve planned this better in case we got caught.”
“So you may be right. We’ll keep it in mind but work on your delivery when it comes to criticism. Now quickly, go join the others.”
“Can I at least hold the magic swords?”
“No.”
She grumbled and left through the door, likely exiting the building. Her attitude was a pleasant surprise. I’ll admit, I kinda assumed all the Foot soldiers had brain-numbing levels of obedience.
The clouds were clearing up, though. The moonlight brightened the room back up, I can’t use the darkness for cover much longer. Alas, if only I knew how to use my literal invisibility powers for longer than a few seconds but you know what? This is genuinely perfectly okay. I’ve taken out enough of them to only leave a few left standing, not to mention the majority of them are already out the building. I gotta take these freaks head on if I wanna get Leo’s swords. No more hide and seek.
I let the light illuminate me.
“Hey guys!~” I waved gleefully as the Foot idiots finally noticed my presence. “Remember me? Hope it hasn’t been too long.”
“You!” The Brute turned to me first. “You’re the Hamato ally from earlier!”
“What are you doing here! Why have you returned!”
“You sure have a way of asking questions that makes them feel like statements. Anyway, I’m here to collect something you stole from my friend.”
He gripped the swords as he scowled at me. I held my own sickles tighter.
“You foolish child! You leave us no choice but take you out permanently.”
“Oh, really now? You and what army.”
I scoffed when I caught his expression change. Everyone looked at each other, noting how very few of them are suddenly in the room. So distracted they barely noticed me going for my first blow.
He quickly got ready to block me with Leo’s weapon, absolutely bewildered when I only zoomed past him and sliced at the leg of another soldier behind him. It wasn’t too deep but poor guy was still rendered useless. I dashed to my left at another soldier, dodging his attack and punching right up his chin.
“What’s going on!? Those sickles were dull the last time she used ‘em!”
“They must be mystic…”
“Right you are, Lieutenant! I kept them dull on purpose, my mistake.”
I threw a tanto at a cultist’s shoulder.
“You threw Leo out a window. I think you can bear to see some blood.”
One by one, I went around the room, sprinting past anyone chasing after me and immobilizing anyone with their guard down. I got in a groove good enough to keep myself progressing along while getting out my rage. I wasn’t kidding before, I would’ve kept my blades dull again. I’m still careful to not do anything fatal but I’m not gonna be exactly merciful, either. They deserve this.
Fighting felt like dancing, gliding across the room in an energetic fashion. I’m not crazy enough to go for the Lieutenant or Brute which ended up being a plus for me. They was more than ready to protect themselves, but not their team. At last, I got them all exactly where I needed them.
Alright, stay calm. Turn invisible no matter what.
My sickles shone with a pink glow, allowing me to disappear from their sight. I scampered past them, reaching the bejeweled mannequin behind them. It feels a little different? But there isn’t any concrete proof for this so my brain’s just tricking me. Whatever, no time to lose. I shoved it in my bag, getting myself used to the weight, and aimed a sickle at his arm.
“Where’d she go!?”
“Stay alert! Don’t let her catch you off guard!”
A bit late for that buddy.
My blade sliced through, leaving a massive gash on his arm. He screamed and dropped Leo’s sword. I ran through, catching it just as I became visible again. I snatched the other one as quickly as possible and sprinted to create some distance.
I held my arm up to my face, making good use of the wraps’ built-in comms. “Leo! Heads up!”
I threw a katana out the window, smashing the glass as it flew outside. I stopped in my tracks with a smirk. I knew we won.
I dodged the last attacks of the night, accelerating faster than I realized I could go. “Well folks, this was quite a fun match! Hope to never see you again!” Blue light sparked across my body. I leapt in the air, gave a quick peace sign purely to piss ‘em off, and bid my farewell.
“Toodles~”
Teleportation isn’t actually too bad if you know it’s coming.
The cool night air returned on my skin. I was floating for a few seconds before crashing to the roof on my knees. I didn’t even care about the pain, I was too busy enjoying the hug I received for my success!
“I DID IT! I FUCKING DID IT! WOOHOO!!!”
“Celebrations later, escaping now! Come on!”
Leo dragged me up and pulled us through another portal.
***
“We are the champions!~
“Gone with the losers ‘cause we are the champions!”
I handed another slice of pizza to Leo, half the box pepperoni for him and the other half plain cheese for me. We already dropped off the mannequin back to the museum and I gave an anonymous tip to 911 so now we’re simply chilling on the roof singing to celebrate our victorious night. I’m honestly still hyper as hell over it.
“I can’t believe we actually did it! I can’t believe I actually did it! Salena one, Foot Clan NONE BABY, FUCK YEA!”
“Man, I am so happy you came out okay. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you again.” He bit into the cheese, the least stressed I’ve seen him all night.
I couldn’t realize it earlier but that hug he gave wasn’t for my success. It’s clear to me now.
“Leo?”
“Hm?” He looked towards me as he bit into the cheese.
“Thanks for trusting me.”
He mirrored my smile. “Hey, we’re friends, right? That’s what I’m here for.”
The spring breeze feels so sweet. The view of the city is rewarding as always. A safe city, a safe night. I can see why they’re so into this whole hero gig. Everything about this moment feels absolutely perfect.
Buzz! Buzz!
I swear to god if my fucking phone’s gonna ruin it again. I quickly checked the notif to see if it was anything important. To my surprise, it’s Jaiden.
They sent me a text. The first one in weeks. It’s a dumb meme I saw earlier today.
We used to do this a lot in the past. Whenever we got into a fight, it’d be our way of ending it. We could never stay mad at each other for more than a day. In the past at least.
I guess this means they’re not mad at me anymore.
“Everything okay?” Leo stared at me, probably concerned by my change in demeanor.
I double tapped to like Jaiden’s meme and put my phone away, going back to normal.
“It’s nothing important. Just, uh, highschool stuff. You wouldn’t get it.”
He laughed “Oh, okay, well. I know I’m too fabulous to be the average, uncool, normal teen guy doing normal teen things like going to highschool that you want right now but…”
“If you ever need someone to lend a shoulder, you know who to call.”
He’s an idiot, but a very sweet one when he wants to be.
“Thanks, Leo, but I mean it this time. It’s nothing.” I raised up my slice to request a toast of some sorts. “Let’s go back to celebrating, shall we?”
He let out a satisfied chuckle, returning my toast. I didn’t wanna let anything ruin the way I felt tonight, even if their text tainted the vibe a bit. But hey, it’s technically a win, too! I got my confirmation that Jaiden and I are indeed still friends.
Though I gotta admit, I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be.
Next Chapter
#save rottmnt#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#unpause rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt season 3#rise of the turtles#rottmnt fanfiction#rottmnt x oc#oc x canon#rottmnt oc x canon#nickelodeon#rottmnt moths fly in packs
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Tell us about your oc area :)
Well I don’t have a oc named area I DO have my oc rea.
She’s just a little 11 year old girl. Incredibly intelligent too much for her own good. However she lives in very… tense home life and is often constantly paranoid. She is always studying ways she could take advantage of someone to protect herself if things ever were to go south.
She has in fact held Dr two brains at (ray) gun point to force him to fight aganist his mouse brain.
She’s heavily and I MEAN HEAVILY based of me as a child. She even has one of my childhood plushies.
She is autistic but no one seems to suspect it. (Haha ptsd effects children different)
My sona is just rea but transitioned (I’m a trans boy) and in high school.
She loves ponies and princesses she will only draw princesses and ponies.
Shes mulit talented, a gifted kid. Which often leads her to be extremely stressed. She can sing, draw, and is highly intelligent both academically and emotionally intelligent.
She often wishes to be saved like a princess in a fairy tale.
She struggles a lot with spelling.
She also has the idea that she has to save people and that she has to be the best person ever if not then she’s horrible.
She has no idea how to wiggle her finger.
She make her index finger more flexible then normal by pressing too hard on a tablet screen.
Rea also has multiple different social medias that she did not get with parental permission.
Rea has very crooked teeth and often gets cuts in their mouth from her teeth being way too sharp. She has bitten other children.
She also chews on her dolls and often chews on her plushies and other toys she could put in her mouth. She likes to bite. Her toys arent in the best state mainly because she often makes them fight each other chewing on them. But some are broken for other reasons that aren’t her own doing
Rea has put her health and safety in order to prove she’s better at someone at something, a bit of a competitive girl and often feels she always has to be the best at everything but always falls short unlike Victoria best.
Rea’s mom gives full blown lectures to the stray cats that keep surrounding their apartment. Rea finds it very amusing.
Rea has eaten: clay, a coin, a single sequin, doll hands, plastic from all kinds of toys, play dough, paint and paint water, plush fur, corners of a paper, and a bit of a glue stick.
Rea often likes to think about easy it is to murder someone if you gather enough information on them (she also believes she could murder people so much better then actual criminals).
She will never use this information she just likes to challenge her thinking.
Rea is a very sneaky child, she has a tendency to hide things from adult figures, like if she took something from them and such, or just plain lying and hiding secrets
Rea hates fortnite but loves among us and even has a plush among us.
Rea is a border in the making she keeps all the boxes her dolls come in and says she eventually plans to make something with them (she never does).
Rea often has nightmares where she’s a villain. She has a deep fear of eventually becoming a villain and is extremely paranoid about it, over analyzing her every action.
She doesn’t use her ability to “hush” people because she feels it’s too mean and it’s also overstimulating for her.
She was once in a fight with a high schooler, no one but she got a black eye.
She doesn’t know her times tables and never will.
Shes stupidly athletic, despite unknowingly being very ill she tried out for every single sports team at her school. Her jaw now pops more often due to being hit with a softball.
All she wants to be is a little princess in a safe environment.
She and Becky used to be friends but they drifted off, she found wordgirl’s secret identity embarrassingly quick and taught Becky how to lie. She keeps a promise to hide wordgirl’s identity to this day bur avoid stuff wordgirl related and doesn’t like talking about her.
In a roleplay me and @justadoodle0 are doing she’s been taken out her neglectful and dangerous home to stay with Dr two brains as found family.
She has infact pointed a ray gun at herself, it was not for any purpose other then make herself larger for the hell of it.
Rea is very protective of her stuff, she despises sharing especially when sharing attention.
Rea instead of going home like she was supposed to instead ran away and promptly got lost as shit, the police were involved and Dr two brains had such a fun time <3
Her only two friends are a puppet from the 1700s named mora (oc by @adry_the_deadbeat on discord) and a girl who frankinsteined herself named Frankie (oc by @justadoodle0)
She is incredibly weak and has bad blood circulation which makes her uncomfortably cold all the time.
She is sassy only when she feels safe enough to do so.
She had bit Dr two brains during one of his mouse brain takeovers to knock a ray gun out of his hand and that’s when she held him at gun point.
She in the middle of the night took one of two brains ray guns and hid it in case things went south when the police were called when she went missing and stayed with two brains.
She has a pocket knife she stole.
The cat plush is the one rea has, her name is snowball and I’ve had her since childhope. And have some doodles off her!
#wordgirl#dr two brains#word girl#wordgirl oc#Rea valencia#Axelberry answers#art#oc art#Axelberry art
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27, 36, 58!
27. Have I ever broken someone’s heart?
Well, I don’t know about broken, but there was this one boy in high school… Senior year in high school, I think? Well, technically two boys, who were already besties before we all ended up in the same class, if I recall correctly (this was 25 years ago, so forgive the vagueness).
The three of us (all giant nerds) started hanging out together a lot. I sort of developed a crush on one of them; it turned out to be mutual, he asked me out and we ended up dating for a few months, though it didn’t work out.
I believe he was the one who ended it but truth be told I remember being kind of relieved. He was a teenage boy, I was a budding closeted lesbian, there were things he wanted that I didn’t. (And conversely, there were things I wanted, like actually watching the movie when we went to see Titanic in its original theatrical run, that he wasn’t that into.)
But that’s not whose heart got hurt.
Unbeknownst to me, the other boy apparently had been nursing a crush on me the whole time.
I was blissfully unaware, so when he and I started to hang out a lot more —just the two of us— after his buddy and I had broken up, I thought he was just being supportive and we were becoming besties.
You can see where this is going.
We went to the movies a lot back then, so one uneventful Saturday (?) we go see yet another one together (don’t ask me what the movie was, I have no recollection) and on the subway ride home, just as we’re getting to the stop where he has to change lines, as the doors are opening and he’s preparing to get off the train, he just completely out of the blue turns back around and kisses me.
I, of course, am stunned; my brain segfaults, I bluescreen, and give him zero reaction.
Seriously, it’s a total romcom scene. I just stand there staring at him, probably looking like a fish out of water; he steps off the train and gives me a little hopeful wave as the doors close and the train starts rolling again.
I have an oddly clear memory of blinking and looking around, and seeing people looking at me with these big grins on their faces like that was the cutest thing they’d ever seen.
They weren’t around when I had to call my friend and tell him that no, I wasn’t interested in him like that, and he said he was going to need some space because it would hurt too much to be around me for a while.
We drifted apart after that; our friendship never really recovered.
That broke my heart a little bit too.
—
36. Do I give out second chances too easily?
I’m not sure how to gauge that. I regard error and failure as intrinsic parts of the human experience, because we are ultimately just imperfect thinking lumps of meat trying to navigate an extraordinarily complex maze, and this shit is hard.
We’re under all sorts of pressures and constraints from our past and present circumstances, from the people and societal structures around us, and from our biology.
Which is not to say we’re not responsible for our actions —we have to be, because who else otherwise?
However I fully expect people to make choices that I disagree with or disapprove of, some of which may be hurtful to me or to others, and I don’t believe it’s helpful or productive to take an absolutist view of any of it. Not to say that anything goes or everything can be forgiven —there are lines— but in general I default to a posture of forgiveness.
Of course, it helps that I’ve lived a reasonably blessed existence so far; nothing majorly awful has ever happened to me.
So, probably put me down as a yes, I guess.
—
58. My favorite weather?
Autumn in New England, hands down. Sweater weather. Crisp blue skies, a chill in the air; the trees ablaze with color.
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FABril day 4 - Chores, part four
1, 2, 3, 4
T, 1859 words, Bruno/Agustín, Bruno & Mirabel.
Mirabel starts living with Bruno for a little while. She’s curious about why he left. Then she finds out a little more.
--
After Bruno sends his second letter that week, he feels like a tower crumbling.
The evening he tells Mirabel about the letters, he rummages through the messy archive in his drawer, exposing himself to lines he has never consciously written but which, reading them now, slice his heart like paper cuts. They’re really embarrassing. He can’t believe Mirabel read some of these. Little thoughts that go nowhere. Jokes that don’t make sense without context. And, in most cases, they are conversations Bruno would never have with the real Agustín. All of his fantasies, everything he couldn’t say in over ten years laid bare on white paper, and all Bruno can do is bleed over them.
The apartment fills up with unwanted thoughts of Agustín. He finds it becomes hard to listen to boleros because a lot of them are exactly Tino’s style. Doing chores with Mirabel reminds him of the time the guys and him used to keep Casita in tip-top shape together. When Mirabel practices playing the accordion — which she’s learned to play from her dad — she uses sheet music that he wrote down. Sitting chairs feel empty without having Agustín opposite him.
He keeps these feelings at bay by writing, hoping Tino will write back and it’ll be like before, and Bruno has an excuse to send more letters.
When he doesn’t write, he daydreams.
“So,” Mirabel says as she steps outside onto the balcony with him. “Papá was the prince.”
Bruno once planted ivy on the balcony, and it’d taken over the entire railing before Mirabel cut it into better shape. Now it hangs modestly and exposes the iron curvature of the art deco design. Bruno is leaning over the railing to smoke, arms lost in green. It’s not a habit he actively pursues, but sometimes his anxiety asks for it. And with Mirabel in the house throwing his life upside down, he requires little pockets of quiet.
“Oh, yeah. There’s no one like him.” He catches himself — that sounds too dreamy. He adds a sheepish, “Sorry, TMI.”
“No, that’s fine. I asked.”
Bruno puts his hand over his mouth to hold the cigarette in place, making him feel like the cool uncle. He turns to face Mirabel, his eyes perpetually tired. He lives on the fifth story, a little higher than the funny tower that was his bedroom in Casita. There he did the exact same thing: letting smoke drift out of his mouth as he contemplated heights and dramatics.
“You know,” he says, letting out a puff of smoke. “I fell alllll the way down once.” He gestures down where cars make noise and men with hats and ladies in coats dot the street. He’s always loved the view from above, distant and observing. “But your dad was there to catch me on his white mustang. I wouldn’t be alive without him.”
Mirabel shakes her head, smiling at his story. He chortles, and adds, “I wonder if he still has that thing…”
“Tío…” Mirabel says quietly. “Is it going to be difficult for you? With Papá there, I mean.”
He waves that off easily. “Nah. We all lived together, remember? I got used to it. It was kinda fun, actually. Hanging around all the time. Besides, it’s not all romance. It can’t be all romance. He’s my friend first. What you’re thinking about, those are just thoughts I have sometimes. Can’t help it! It’s nothing we need to break our brains over, because I’ve already accepted it.”
“If you say so…” She doesn’t look convinced.
“Hey.” He bumps her shoulder. “My life’s not so tragic. You know I like the telenovelas where not everyone ends up getting what they want. It makes us appreciate what we do have. Eeehhh, maybe I’ll pine a little…heh-heh. But it’ll be fine.” He shrugs.
Mirabel slides her hand under his arm and presses her shoulder against him. The touch grounds him, pulls him down from where he stands, high up and away.
--
Hey Nito,
It’s so nice to talk to you again. Just you and me like we used to, right?
I’ll say what’s been on my mind for a while: I was surprised to hear from Mirabel that you use a cane. Though, she made it sound like you use it as a prop to tell funny anecdotes with, which is very like you. I’m glad you’re still the same old Bruno out there. You never change, do you? I wish you had told us about your bad back. Or at least Julieta. Were you hosp I’m glad you’re doing okay. You’re never a burden. Like you always said to me: Tell me everything!
From what I hear from our Antonio, Camilo has been telling scary stories about you. I’m so sorry for that. I didn’t think he remembered you well enough to give an accurate description of you, but I guess that is still true since he’s let his little brother turn you into a magician. (speaking of, do you still have that robe?) Alma keeps your photograph in her room. I assumed Toñito must’ve drawn you from that, though Pepa’s pictures in her closet are just as likely. Whichever his little hands reach better, haha. I’ll pass your compliment on to both of them. I’m sure Camilo will appreciate hearing from you just as much. (He can’t stop asking questions about your job. I’ve compiled you a list.)
Don’t worry about my visit. I’ll be out of your hair very quickly if you want, although I’d really like to catch up with you. Since the city is Mirabel’s dance court now, it’d be nice to get a tour. I’m curious about what she’s been up to. And you too, for that matter.
So: tell me everything!
Love, your friend, Agustín
--
Responses, one after the other, flit through post offices.
--
It’s about two weeks later when Julieta rings Mirabel up for their bi-weekly calls, which is why Bruno doesn’t expect his niece to wave him over at the end of the conversation and hand him the phone.
He curls the handle against his ear. “Hi, Juli?”
“Bruno, hi. How are you doing?”
“Good,” he says warily, but happy to hear her voice. “I’m doing good.”
“That’s good,” Julieta echoes. Then she hesitates for a moment. “So… Agustín has been getting letters from you again.”
Bruno’s heart begins to drum steadily in his chest.
It’s not like their correspondence is a secret. Agustín’s secrets aren’t easily kept from his wife anyway, and they would not have planned for his visit had the family not known. But Julieta’s voice is tinged with suspicion, making Bruno feel light in his head and his chest constrict like he’s been caught doing something bad.
He stays dead silent on the line.
“They’re very sweet,” Julieta continues. “They remind me a little of the letters you used to send him.”
Before she noticed just how much Agustín meant to him too. Before he’d quietly let go of his feelings in favor of Julieta’s happiness, which is never much of a sacrifice.
“You know,” she says softly when he doesn’t answer. “I never disliked or resented you for liking him too.”
“But it’s not right,” he knows. He’s supposed to have let go.
“It’s not right to indulge. But you’re not…” You’re not acting on your feelings. At least, not in the way I notice. “You can’t help it.”
“No.” His finger plays with the coil of the phone cord. “I’ll stop, if you want.”
“Ay, I shouldn’t have brought it up. What I mean is, I think Agustín appreciates them.”
That makes it worse. Does she not see how that makes it worse?
He presses his forehead against his palm and unintentionally sighs too loud into the receiver. It’s an upsetting enough sound that she changes the subject. “Mirabel is doing great, I hear?”
“Oh, yeah. She’s fantastic.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad she’s having fun with you. I love you, Bruno. I think you’re doing a great job. I should’ve trusted you from the start.”
“Hey, thanks. But don’t get it twisted, okay? You were the one begging me, heh-heh.”
“I guess that’s true,” she says with an audible smile. “But I could’ve tried harder to convince you how great of an uncle you are. Thank god we have Tino–” She thinks better of it. “Ah. I should go.”
“Okay. Alright.”
“Take care, Bruno. Talk to you soon.”
“Juli–” he intercepts before she can hang up. “Could you… Could you not read the letters? They’re for Tino only.”
“Oh, I don’t read them. I only ask about them.”
“Yeah, could you– could you not ask him about them either?”
It’s quiet on the other line for a long time. Bruno thinks he’s confused or offended her. Then he hears a muffled sound. A scratch, like breathing in through a full nose, distorted by digital noise, and he realizes she’s crying.
There’s a high pitched, “Oh.”
Bruno’s heart constricts around the sound of her.
“Juli?” he tries. “Juli, why are you sad?”
There’s another sob.
Bruno has always found it difficult to be sad if he has nobody to share his hurt with. Their mother is like that, though often shows it through anger and discipline rather than sadness. Pepa is like a storm in every emotion, evidently hurt. But Julieta, who rarely cries out in the open, turns small.
“Because I miss you,” she manages to say.
“I miss you too,” he answers quickly. “I’m sorry. I’ll send you letters too, okay? Mirabel said: start small if you feel overwhelmed. So I didn’t think to– I’m sorry for only–”
She laughs wetly. “Nito, it’s okay.”
“I have enough letters,” he promises. “Mountains of them. I have enough to tell. Hell, I’ll even write Mamá.”
“Oh, she’ll do it first.”
Bruno’s ears perk up. “What?”
“Mirabel sent her a letter. You should’ve seen her — I think she broke something in Mamá. Expect something in the post at the end of the week. She’s still workshopping it.” Another sniffle, a wipe of her nose as she composes herself.
“What?” he says again, anxiously. He knows Mirabel followed in his footsteps and started writing home. (“This is so retro,” she’d said.) But he’s unable to believe anything can affect their mother in so much that she’ll write, call, or in any way be the first to initiate a conversation with Bruno. Not after the fight they’d had ten years ago. Although… No. Knowing Mirabel like he does now, of course she’s made that happen. Of course she’s going to make him talk to his mother.
He shakes his head in disbelief, although he can’t make ten years of shame and cowardice slide off of him that easily. “Okay. Okay, yeah. Then I’ll write one too. And send you guys even more.”
They make heartfelt promises and hang up with thick and pathetic goodbyes.
When he turns around, Mirabel watches him curiously, tears shooting in her eyes as she’s no doubt been eavesdropping on him. He glares at her and mumbles without ire, “Oh, you know what you did.”
#encanto#bruno madrigal#agustin madrigal#julieta madrigal#fabshipping#encanto fanfics#fabril#yes im still doing fabril LOL#I MADE A MISTAKE IA DDED A STRIKETHROUGH
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Just the other day I was chatting with an older woman about this exact thing. She's retired so she enjoys going on almost-daily walks around her neighborhood and the surrounding neighborhoods. Well she told me that it was really weird that in the newer constructions where the younger families live, EVERYONE has their blinds closed all the time. In fact she can tell a younger family lives in a house based on the simple fact of whether or not their blinds are closed in the middle of a sunny day. It's to the point where she can't even tell if they're even HOME and available for a visit to welcome them to the neighborhood!
When she said that, I realized that I do that too when I live in a more publicly visible apartment. I told her that I think it's because of the internet. Younger people feel like we're constantly being watched, observed, and JUDGED for merely existing. So when we're home, we just want to be alone, unbothered, and unobserved because it's the one place we can control that. She was very surprised to hear that I felt like that and she was VERY concerned for us young folk (and to be honest after talking with her I became pretty concerned too...)
People from her generation will have their blinds open all day, hang out on their front porch, and randomly visit/enjoy random visits from neighbors and strangers. If a stranger knocks on my door it's scary and if they want to stay and chat? It's a huge inconvenience and it feels super awkward and weird and I'm stuck wondering why exactly they're talking to me, when just a few decades ago welcoming someone new to the neighborhood was just what you did! In fact to not do so was rude!
It made me really worried that as the Panopticon sinks its teeth deeper into our psyches, we are losing the very essence of what makes us human and got us this far as a species: community. I find that being on the internet for hours a day tends to almost trick my brain into thinking "I've been social all day, my social need is full" when in reality I've only talked to one, maybe two people I know from my real life all day, and only for short bursts, not REAL conversation.
I find it hard to have the energy to invite friends to hang out, and when I want to I feel like I'm a big inconvenience for asking them to take a break from their busy lives for me (not that they would ever say that's the case, but it's this nagging feeling internally). I feel like while we used to be a series of large islands of local community, our islands splintered apart and started drifting away from each other. Now your island is just you, your immediate family, and maybe a couple close friends. Those living physically closest to you feel like they're miles away and unreachable, to the point where you might as well not even bother.
I guess I just have one question for you: Do you know the names of your next door neighbors?
#there was another woman just a couple years older than me in the conversation as well and she agreed with me#what happened to us?#community#if you don't have a physical local community please find one you don't think you need it until you suddenly do and wish you had one#i only know ONE of my neighbors (across the hall) and i live in a huge complex#and i only know them because we coincidentally met on Nextdoor without knowing we were neighbors#if it weren't for that i would've never knocked on their door or said hello or even acknowledged their existence further than a smile#but they're actually super nice and good friends! unfortunately we're moving this week so we won't be seeing much of them now#i want to make more of an effort to meet neighbors but it just fills me with this awful anxiety ugh#I'm glad i found our local UU church and joined it so i do have a physical local community#but i had to go out of my way and i think that's the issue: going out of my way#you have to decide to go out and join a church or club sport or tabletop group and it's hard to do that!#we aren't taught how to do that gracefully or even how fundamentally necessary it is to us as humans!#it's like our social need is seen as unimportant or at least way less important than our hunger and sleep and hygiene needs#even though again our ability to communicate and form community is what allowed us to evolve to this point#it's just so frustrating and i can barely figure out how to solve the problem for myself let alone as a whole societal/generational thing#i just stay in my apartment all day invisible to the world feeling safe in my anonymity#as if that isn't on some level denying the very thing that makes me human#we're more connected than ever but we're also more lonely than ever. the fuck#I'm rambling now i need to stop#this whole post addition was originally tags but i felt it was important enough to actually add to the post#aa
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Like, it's on my mind tonight because during family art, N played a Metallica song, and my brain made the cross connection of "Sad But True" >story about seeing Metallica in concert > I saw Metallica in concert last with RJ in like 2010 > thinking of RJ and how it's been a week since Adam told me he was going to jail and I haven't even processed it, haven't even really thought about it. I started to say something about it at the table tonight, but I got talked over, so I just shut up. It really is one of those things where stuff that's on my mind feels too big, my feelings about it feel hard for me to get out and don't sound right and anyway ain't nobody at the table doing art listening so I shouldn't burden them by spilling out my feelings about RJ and why hearing a Metallica song makes me think of him. Idk. As always, I don't feel like I have anybody that I can talk to, because as always, I don't feel like anybody should have to listen except me. It's just... Odd to turn over in my mind. Another "brother" relationship severed. I have had four brothers in my life, the two by blood and then Adam and RJ, and when Michael stabbed me in the back those first few times, Adam and RJ were the ones to take my hand, to look at me and say lemme tell you something, we are your brothers and we'd never do that to you. It is one of the closest times I've felt to being actually chosen in my life.
But of course, we drift, we get older, things aren't the same, even when I lived there things stopped being the same as we grow old and grow apart. That's life right? Sucks but, it's life for your friends, one you've known since you were like, 11 or 12 or whatever, to drift and have kids and have lives and become different people. But then you stop recognizing them at all, then they get progressively more shitty in their jokes and you start seeing that, good times when you were kids aside, you really kind of don't like who they are as people, right? And then the world just keeps going on, and they slide away, and you watch them from afar as they get into weirder shit. You move away, and the group chat dries the fuck up and their texts ring with abandonment, terse one word answers and Lol. And nothing else, saying shit like "so when you coming home". And you watch and like. You wonder what they're transforming into.
Idk it's something I turn over in my mind a lot, what happened to my brothers? One going full on mask off MAGA cult is bad, but then the other one has you asking if you knew all along just how... Deep his rage was, did you always know he had it in him to harm his son, was the excess drinking when you were in your twenties and it led to some fun drunk RJ stories really a sign, or was the rage always there? And now he's divorced and his wife takes their son, and his now ex-wife posts a lot of uncomfortable memes about domestic abuse, and you think over and over, RJ? No, dude, but yes. And time passes again, and now the dude is in real hot water, and his demons are eating him and he's put another innocent woman in danger, and it's just Jesus Christ, brother. What happened?
S'all a mess, like tangled Christmas lights, man. I don't know that I could have expressed these thoughts or unpacked just the latest development that RJ is now facing serious time at the family art table, in the midst of my sister and the youngest crabbing at each other. I don't even know why it hurts me, like I said. I need to remind myself a lot to leave them alone. They are not my brothers, they are harmful, I moved across the country because I was being constantly brought down by living somewhere I didn't feel myself. And yet.
#Sorry for literally anybody that reads this bte#I realize I never write about them and I mostly try not to think about either of them these days#Until I do ya know?#Its just...#Like my actual brother Michael and his addiction and HIS recidivism hurts too#Whenever Michael gets in trouble its so disappointing because he was my hero and surrogate father figure#So him backsliding still hurts but Ive had decades of it hurting so it isnt so much like a punch to the stomach#With these two chuckleheads and their separate turning out to be not great its like#I cant help but feel responsible because I left#And it really is like once I left they drifted apart yeah#But they also both separately... went off the deep end#(I know that is NOT reality but its hard not to feel that way)#Anyway sorry like I said I really havent been thinking or processing these feelings so#Sorry if you see this#I dont think I could have said these words out loud but I dont think anybody wants to hear me complain#So you get it all Tumblr#Sigh#Long tags are long#Long post nobody read
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Something particularly fascinating (and also equality frustrating) to me is how my depression interacts with my anxiety. During my heightened anxiety, I felt overwhelmed and stressed over my fears for the future and sudden changes. I also cared a LOT about how others perceived me due to an intensified fear of judgement and criticism. I restricted myself from having deep relationships as the idea of vulnerability was terrifying. So for a long time, there where aspects of myself which I hid away because I was worried what my friends or family would think. I could only discuss My Little Pony around the people who watched the show, and I could only make silly jokes around the friend who I grew up with, and I could only share specific drawings with certain people as well. I convinced myself they wouldn’t understand my diversified personality even if I managed to be vulnerable (hence why my loneliness worsened). I felt kinda ostracized from the group because I never shared interests outside of the shared ones, and rarely shared anything about my personal life. There where plenty moments where I felt my stomach sink as I watched them from afar. Another thing that was also typical of me; guilt trip myself out of fear I’m being “a terrible person” for not reaching out and contacting old friends. All of this became common place with anxiety
But then the opposite became true with depression. It’s like flipping a coin and suddenly everything is juxtaposed
Depression numbs a lot of that built-up anxiety inducing fear because you suddenly stop giving a shit about things. You stop caring about grades and paying attention in class because you’ve convinced yourself that “your lazy” and “stupid” no matter what. You give into feeling fatigued and unmotivated and the desire to be pessimistic increases. You get annoyed when people tell you to “fake it till you make it” because you’re tired of acting like things are fine and that your happy when you don’t feel anything. You feel empty, emotionless, directionless, and lost. But it starts becoming the normal. It’s that attitude of “I’m going to do what I want to do and not let anything else dictate me” which is so vastly opposed to the way my brain operated on anxiety. It’s kinda freeing honestly. You start to accept your friendships as what they are, surface level. But that doesn’t mean it’s too late to keep building the bridges and digging deeper. Relationships go two ways, and what you put into it matters. If you want it to be meaningful you gotta share some meaningful information, and simply be true to yourself.
So obviously the upside to depression is you stop giving a shit about others words. It numbs the anxiety about fear of judgement, so you feel able to speak your mind more directly then before without holding back opinions and thoughts to appease others. However, this also backfires because the positive words others say to you don’t seem to matter. Your relationships loose some meaning because you don’t feel emotionally connected anymore. Sometimes it feels like your words hold no meaning, and encouragement to friends falls flat. Almost sounding disingenuous and fake because you don’t have that optimism for your own life. Like I can see my friends archiving success in the future, but I can’t fathom that for myself anymore. And your exhaustion and lack of motivation causes you to detach yourself from social interaction. There have been times where I ignore messages for days because I didn’t want people to know how I’ve been doing (obviously not doing great). During these moments, I’ve noticed my anxiety actually HELPS me. My anxiety tells me “hey, if you don’t reach out to your friends right now, you’ll be wasting your time. Your friendship will drift apart and die unless you put the effort into maintaining it”. It might be over exaggerating but it gets the job done and forces me to talk to them. To ask “what’s up” and “hope your doing okay”. Even if they don’t respond, at least I can rest easy knowing I did my part and tried to keep this connection alive.
So yeah, it’s kinda crazy how depression and anxiety go hand in hand sometimes. Kinda balances things out in a strange way
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you're on your own, kid
I’m leaving home soon.
Sometimes it doesn’t feel real. How I’ve blinked and just like that, 17 years of my life have gone by. 17 years with the same people, in the same town, within the same schools. I firmly believe we all carry some part of each other in our own lives. I can remember some habits influenced by childhood friends I haven’t seen in a decade. How I picked up hobbies based on faces I can piece together in my memories, but also finding that their names have been lodged far behind in the back of my brain. That’s how it is when you live in a small town. People come and go, but in this case, they always reappear – maybe at the food court, in the arcade, anywhere, really. Every time we cross paths, there’s always got to be something different that they haven’t updated you about. But there would be no need for that anymore… You two drifted apart years ago. But you still greet them with that fond, familiar smile and mumble your hellos before promptly going your separate ways. Two months later, the same thing would happen again. Same pattern, same hellos, and goodbyes.
I’m leaving all of that, and it both excites me and yet leaves me with a looming feeling of silent dread. For a person who loves trying new things and getting out of her comfort zone, living in a foreign country where you don’t speak their language is something I’m totally game for. Living like the locals, adapting to a new lifestyle, it’s always been something far-off in my dreams. Now I’ll be finally living it. But then there come the nightmares – nightmares that creep up on you when you’re finally able to have a good night’s sleep, and then completely ruin the rest of the night for you because you got woken up at three in the morning. Being alone sucks, even for an introvert. Maybe that’s because back home, you knew you were never going to be truly alone. You have family, people who know you, people who’d reach out if anything ever happened. But over there? Absolutely nothing. No one. Maybe your parents would watch over you for a bit, but then what? They’d hop on a plane back to the place you suddenly miss, the place you always took for granted because it was all you ever knew.
“I’ll deal with it.” I quietly muttered to my parents from the back seat of the car as they were discussing how I’d cope, alone, in a terrifyingly new environment. I’ll deal with it. That sentence rolls around and around in my head like some sort of mantra as I look out the window and etch every single building, tree, and road sign in my mind. I burn the pattern of the car seat leather to memory, but even as I’m recalling all of this, I struggle to remember what song was playing on the radio that evening. It was some rock music from the ‘90s, maybe. But I can’t afford to forget anything. I don’t want to forget anything.
It’s just four months, I’m being dramatic, I tell myself when the sudden pang of homesickness hits me in my bed (even though I haven’t even left yet). I begin to wonder if the other kids who left home, packed up and left, felt the same way too; before they went away. Were they scared? Slightly anxious? Or not bothered at all? The people who had carefully stowed away their identity, their life, in two suitcases, and got on a plane to not come back for the next four to twelve months? Do they look back? Did their parents help with their overhead luggage as they boarded the plane with them, or did they drop them off at the security line? Did their friends come to send them off? Did they give their pets extra attention before that day because they won’t know why their owner suddenly got up and left?
Questions like this keep swirling in my mind as I carefully cross off the days leading up to my departure. In the meantime, planning which courses I’m about to take, researching professors, and catching up on required reading take up most of my waking hours. But that feeling when you know you’re going to leave soon will always be quietly taunting you in the back of your mind, and it gets louder when you shut off the light to go to sleep.
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i found an old draft
an inside joke between us
is whispered into silence
let me believe
there's someone making noise
someone left to hush
someone left to love
someone
anyone
...everyone
where is everyone?
did they leave me?
no, i left them
i don't know what to do
and why i did it
could you begin to love
a husk of what once was?
i still want to love you
i still want to be your friend
i still want to be yours
i still want to be
that's why i needed you, wasn't it?
because i built my life
around being loved by you
what do i do now
i'm still here
i'm still listening
i'm still waiting
i'm waiting
i'm waiting
...i hate waiting
don't make me wait for you
have you moved on?
i can't
do you have new friends?
mine are better
but i want you, too
even though i'm happy with them
i still want what we used to have
can we go back to what we used to be?
i want to.
like most things,
i can't.
neverland burnt and sunk the day
peter pan grabbed his last sword
the lost boys grew up
the fairies flew away
and nobody believed
so they died yesterday
the dreams of the children creep to the island
at the bottom of the trench
waters filling the cracks in the rocks
i wish i was there
i wish water filled the cracks of my soul and tore it apart
i wish water took the air from my lungs and took the aching with it
i wish i didn't have to feel like i drowned every time i heard throwaway phrases that you used to say
we sang songs
we cried anthems
we prayed to the lord that has forsaken us
and we danced under the afternoon sun
as it dried the tears in our weepy eyes
we were friends
no, more than family
we were close, glued, knit together
god, how'd we get into this bad weather?
will you still sing songs
will you cry to the anthem, of the lost, lonely, and broken?
or did you stop praying to the lord and lose your hope?
do you want to dance again, now instead to burn away the shame and embarrassment?
do you want to sob your heart out, only for the sun to wipe it away?
do you want me there today?
if you want to know
then i enjoyed the songs
i weep the anthems
and, though skies are empty, i want to pray
can i dance again?
cry into your shoulder
like you promised i can?
but you lost your voice
and you have no eyes
there is no faith where there are no skies
you broke your ankle
and the even sun cannot dry
every trickling drop
that leaks from your lonely eye
so bear with these nostalgic melodies
and bear with my broken heart
maybe a time will come when you see these letters
maybe i'll have enough courage to try
maybe i'll swallow down my pride
maybe i'd apologize
take a dumb poem
typed by an unhinged kid
who wanted a second chance
and a future thrown away
the minute they decided they wanted to change
you likely won't know me
because we've drifted so far
you don't know me and i don't know you
and we're only in love with the memories we knew
we once knew
i want to know you
but you hate me
do you hate me? or is that another lie my brain told me so i can't man up and tell you that i love you?
i want to say you hate me
so it'll be harder to stop myself from begging you to be mine again
i want to say you hate me
i can turn my guilt into resentment instead
i want to say you hate me
and stupidly, i don't want that to be true.
because, for all it's worth, i love you
i think, i always do.
#log-003#all in a platonic sense; of course.#it was a poem i wrote in february 10th of 2022#i found it earlier#when i was in a podcast with my friends and i was looking through my archives so i could find old poems to sing to#i got what i was looking for#it wasn't song worthy#but i think it's a little good#even if i wrote it deliriously miserable#i miss my friends#can you tell?
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