#anyway its just kinda disconcerting

[sheepalmighty]

It turns out I have a bunch of stuff to say on the whole Pixy being called Cinderella by Bristow (Wizard 1) thing. Even though it's been pointed out now and then, and I think its inclusion is something the player would intuitively get and understand in the context of the story and characters, I'd still like to put my reading on this line out there. I’m also hoping this post with help iron out the details for myself.

Firstly, I just want to say I think Wizard 1 respects Pixy and sees him as an important ally and does not need to manipulate him (like it seems his grandiose speech to his group has him otherwise portrayed) - this latter point I'll elaborate on later. I get this take from their conversation in the operation after Excalibur wherein he acknowledges that Pixy's prediction on how the conflict will pan out is accurate. He then prompts Pixy to ditch his 'dead end job' but Pixy declines. It's this conversation that Wizard 1 is calling back to when he calls Pixy Cinderella.

Here he's implying that the clock's struck midnight and the magic has faded. The magic in this case being the illusion that Pixy and his allies are essentially heroes. As such, the illusion is not only that Pixy is playing as someone he is not, which is obvious enough from him always having had ties to AWWNB, it also encompasses Cipher. The prince who had enchanted him is actually the same as everyone else - another soldier led into fighting a pointlessly bloody war. Or perhaps, in firing that missile, he also finally sees Cipher as the Demon Lord, the biggest threat in this conflict, in that moment (I'm also partial to him testing his own resolve). From all of this it can also be said that Wizard 1 is ultimately condemning all of the allies' actions throughout their involvement.

The illusion’s path can be traced back to its origins by looking at Pixy's disposition from around the liberation of Directus until the assault on Excalibur. During the liberation and after hearing the cheering from the civilians his overall tone changes from that of a pragmatic and jaded merc to a 'not bad for a bunch of misfits' positivity after Excalibur. This is the mindset Pixy is in when he tells Wizard 1 that he doesn't want to quit just yet.

During the "pulling" of Excalibur Pixy says to Cipher that Cipher's 'got everyone believing in miracles', but he may have also been swept up in this belief too. This is reminiscent of the previous couple entries that emphasised the lone fighter / squadron inspiring others to believe they can turn the tides of battle, maybe even inspiring the player in the same fashion as those entries (5 is more complicated but the heroism is almost always present). But, in this game, that notion is soon subverted in the double gut punch of The Inferno and The Stage of Apocalypse, and so are any of Pixy's hopes in any other solution and any belief (like Cipher possibly gave him) in being a positive force in this campaign. It hammers in what Pixy already knew but got carried away from.

And so, when Wizard 1 conversed with Pixy the first time he shows that he can't see any good in this conflict (a 'dead end job') but doesn't push back on Pixy declining. Perhaps retrospectively he puts himself in the role of fairy godmother by letting Pixy continue to believe in a positive outcome for this war, to wear the clothes of a hero for a while longer. He makes this decision apparent to us through the Cinderella-fairy godmother back and forth between them the next time they meet. It's coming from the place of a comrade reminding their ally of the ideology they banded together for though, just with some snark.

Finally, with the imagery of a clock striking midnight the concept of the eleventh hour, the time just before the point of no return, is evoked. After Hoffnung has been abandoned and the apocalypse happens it has hit midnight, the magic spell is lifted, and nothing can be changed. The path is set and Pixy has found his reason to fight. So, the way I see it, with a single line the Cinderella association pulls a lot of purposefully written theming, characterisation, and commentary together in an effective manner. It helps carry weighty implications in an already overwhelming and powerful moment of the game and, as has been hopefully shown above, provides some extra understanding of the commentary being made by this game through some introspection of prior events by the player.

A couple asides: Bristow's into literature so that provides a little more context to the whole Cinderella usage, though it's only in auxiliary text I think. If looking at it from a writer’s perspective maybe one reason Cinderella was chosen was for the imagery of Pixy running away after he sheds any pretense of being just another passive soldier. And, related to Pixy's Morgan le Fay parallel, Bristow's callsign may be Lucan (servant to King Arthur) but, after an admittedly short read on Arthurian legends, he can also be seen as Merlin who respected Morgan le Fay and taught her magic, and later conspired against Arthur with her.

[kroosluvr]

temptation

i lowkey have too many notes to write down properly KDFHKDS but ill write them down for Future Cele so i can read it later and be like omggg past cele ur so fun and interesting

in general, the more "color" the scenes have, the closer it is to "real life" as opposed to the muted/hushed winter blues of maruki's reality

i.e. the dark frames w akira smiling and the very last panel are when reality sinks in: first for akira, then for goro

by the way this is long winter au but sumire is still brainwashed. this also works for canonverse but i just had long winter au in mind:o

youve heard of laundry and taxes now get ready for coffee and pastries

in every panel, akira is smiling! :) and goro is very much not smiling.

intentionally his face is hidden in the last 2 pages so its unclear whether it's the "ideal reality" already (akira/goro's daydreams/wants/desires), or if goro is still fighting akira on making sure he picks the right choice

the smoke from the first page kinda leads into the 3rd page omfg COMPLETELY UNINTENTIONAL BUT REALLY COOL LMAOOO

that's nameless and belladonna in jazz jin!!! i love them. I LOVETHEM. i miss them so bad is it obvious

the cafe is loosely based off of caffe strada @ uc berkeley LMAO. my parents used to take me there a lot as a little kid so that's the first cafe i think of when i imagine one. its like right on the streetside, basically on the sidewalk, so its very bustling and people are always walking by... probably a little disconcerting to see everyones summery bright smiles despite the bitter cold and snow

in long winter AU, the Ideal Reality starts before 1/1 so yeah they get to see the new years fireworks together (or something)

also intentional that they wear the same winter outfits in the whole comic although it Probably does not take place at the same time. in maruki's snowglobe, time seems frozen in place... but akira and goro are both acutely aware that the sands are running thru QUICK

goro's frustrated expression on page 3 is one also of disdain: "don't speak FOR me you fucking imbecile" type of expression.

goro, who's never lived a normal life and therefore doesn't know much abt "normalcy" nor really actively seeks it. this 3rd semester is basically purgatory for him and he doesn't care to try and go through the motions the way akira does. akira what do YOU know about the type of "normalcy" i deserve? how do YOU know if i "deserve" that?

im thinking that this is a naive akira who is mostly set on taking the deal because he feels hopeless... seeing all his friends with good happy lives while goro and himself are alive and miserable and shouldering the weight of the world during the horror of long winter......

oh but if he takes the deal they could all be good and alive and happy!!!.... and goro knows this. i feel like in any other universe (i.e. akira is 100% certain on not taking the deal and goro knows this) then goro would be happy and carefree to do these little indulgences for himself and akira's sake, to just enjoy the snowglobe world while it exists.

but this goro is discontent. he sees how akira is enjoying the snowglobe and knows maruki is depending on this. goro has to be the one to remind akira that none of this is his to keep........ in this fucked up world, routine is dangerous. becoming comfortable is dangerous. they cannot keep any of this.

on that note, goro says "i hate you" in a halfhearted sort of way (it's not true and akira knows that.) but he's trying to think of a way that he can dissuade akira from picking the wrong choice.....

and i think the thing is, goro thinks all of this, but he still falls into the rhythm of routine with akira anyway. in a way, goro feels hopeless too.

all of this is maruki's doing........ paralyzed by the inability to choose... whatever you do, you lose. goro needs to hold akira at arm's length so the stupid sentimental fool doesn't get too attached and falls into the wrong universe. akira needs to make a concentrated effort to detach himself from goro even though he wants the simplest thing in the world: just one more unremarkable day with him. it's lose-lose..........,

also i liked drawing the tentacles in the last pic the freaking blue lines on them were SO satisfying to draw

edit: also the last page: the blood flooding the panel….. the idea of the ideal world being built off of the blood and sweat and tears and bodies of the people who could have been. of those lost in the actualization, of those destroyed, of those stitched together and brought back to life. all just for a little false happiness. goro sees it but akira doesn’t, and it’s a grim sight.

[d6volution]

Disconcerted.

Jax/Reader.

tags: heavy angst, hurt no comfort.

requested by: @ibbitynibbity

Another new addition to the circus. Great. Those were Jax's first thoughts when you arrived.. you were just like the other newbies, asking questions and not shutting up about this mysterious exit. That was until Caine explained how there never was an exit in the first place. It was merely a placeholder. Then your whole world came crashing down. You were distant for a while.. but soon you opened up and got more comfortable with the members.

You were kind, charming and actually.. kinda funny. Jax found himself getting drawn in by your aura. It was hard not to.

Unfortunately when it comes to Jax, grabbing his attention wasn't always a good thing.

Jax stuck his foot out as you walked by, with a 'digital' breakfast tray in your hand.

CRASH.

Everything flew from your hands, and you hit the ground with a thud, any previous chatter silenced, and all eyes were on you. "J.. Jax.." Gangle spoke up, clearly disturbed by his crude actions, but the bunny simply rolled his eyes.

"Whaatt? They'll be fine, it's just a joke. Right , y/n?" His grin grew wide as he watched you pick yourself up from the ground. Your breakfast glitching away into thin air. "S-Screw you, Jax.." Your voice was trying its hardest not to crack. This hadn't been the first time, no. This poor excuse of a bunny really seemed to get a kick out of tormenting you.

Gangle still made a point to come over and help you out, dusting off your clothes when you stood up. A flimsy ribbon caressed your back in a poor attempt to sooth you. "Thanks Gangle.." You said, shooting a small smile at the kind bundle of red.

"N.. No need to thank me.. he's.. been being a-a jerk more than usual.." She mutters under her breath, making sure to be quiet enough that Jax couldn't hear her. Luckily enough he didn't. The bunny just watched, his smile dropping when he saw you smile at gangle.. why smile at her instead of him? He was just messing around. You should find it funny.. you /would if you had any sense of humor at all.

It doesn't matter. It's not like he'll stop anyways, he told himself and silently poked at the 'food' on his plate.

You headed back to your room, too embarrassed to continue eating in the main hall. Arriving at your door you were greeted by a small note attatched to it, where your faceplate usually is. You blinked before gently yanking down the sticky note.

'Just a little apology doll, ;) maybe you'll have more fun with them instead."

Them?

Who the hell did he let into your room? You thought, and anger bubbled up throughout your body as you swung the door open. But, it was... empty. You sighed and closed the door behind yourself, flopping onto the bed and bouncing a little unceremoniously. Just then, you felt something crawling on your arm, no a LOT of some things crawling on you. Immediately, you shot up, screaming, and swatting the spiders off of your body. You hurried out of your door and fell back onto your ass in the process.

"Ouch.." The spiders had gotten knocked off of you, but their little shadows were still moving stood in your room, causing you to shudder.

Just like clockwork Jax was standing outside of your door, pointing and laughing at you. "Oh, this it too priceless, you should have seen your face, y/n. Bravo. I needed that laugh, babe." He was hunched over, still trying to catch his breath.

You were shaking with anger, the only reason he even knew about your fear of spiders was because of the time you all decided to come together as a group and open up to each other a little. Talking about your likes, dislikes... hobbies and.. fears.

"Jax.. wh-what is wrong with you..?" You said, still shaking from both anger and fear of the spiders from earlier. "What did I do to you to be treated like this!? Y.. You're insane! I hate you!" You screamed at him and his smile seemed more forced now. "Uh huh.. sure ya do." He scoffed and your breath hitched , you could hardly hold back your tears anymore.

"I do! It's n.. not my fault you're obsessed with me or something!" Tears were streaming down your face and Jax took a step closer to you. "You flatter yourself y/n, why would I be obsessed with someone like you huh? You can barely speak your mind without stuttering half the time— Nah, you're just here for a laugh. A form of entertainment for us all." He smirked before walking past you.

Your eyes were wide and you stood frozen in place. Was that true..? Was everyone laughing too.. behind your back? You spun sound but the hall was now empty. Did everyone think you were weak? Just something to laugh at to past the time?

You laughed dryly and felt your vision briefly glitch.

"Oh y/n! There you are." Kinger came rounding the corner shuffling over to you.

"H.. Huh?" His presence snapped you out of your train of thought, and your vision seemed normal again.

"Oh, a-are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried.

'A form of entertainment.'

The words rung in your ears and your wondered if Kinger was laughing with Jax too before this. " ... No, Jax let spiders loose in my room." Your voice was hoarse from all that yelling and crying.

"Did you say spiders? I.. I'll remove them, I think they'll like it in my insect collection even though they aren't really insects but.." Kinger continued to speak to himself as he happily entered your room. Meanwhile you leaned against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor completely, silently waiting for him to remove the spiders from your room.

Jax walked back to his room, seemingly unbothered... well until he was behind closed doors. As soon as he entered his room, his shoulders slumped over and he sat on the edge of his bed. "Think I might have went a little overboard this time.. maybe I should check on them.." He muttered to himself, burying his face in his hands.

"Don't be a wuss, Jax. Just apologize. Can't be that hard." He said and stood up to his feet. Who knows maybe this could be a fresh start? A whole one eighty. He wondered if he could get some flowers too.. for, the apology of course. He said in his head as if he had anyone else to convince rather than himself.

Back in your room, you had your door locked and shut. Huddled on your bed, beneath your blankets with just your face poking out. You were muttering to yourself, staring at the wall. 'They all hate you, they all agree with Jax. You're nothing but entertainment. You're stuck here, there's no way out. No way out, no way out no way out.

The thoughts were becoming words and your vision began to glitch again, but worse this time.. at first you tried to fight it. Holding your head in your hands as if to physically keep yourself from falling apart.

Knock, knock.

'y/n, open up will ya? you're not still mad from earlier right? c'mon. i've got something to show ya.' Jax's voice was muffled from outside, but hearing his voice alone was enough to make you snap.

You laughed as your vision went completely black, only specs of color being seen here and there. Then it was silent.. and oh how blissful the silence was.

Jax sighed, and dug into his pocket after hearing no response .. pulling out a key and unlocking your door... his smile dropped and for once he looked to be in complete horror. "No.. no.." He muttered as dropped the makeshift apology basket, for a moment he was frozen but you didn't give him time to process. You were towering over him, a glob of abstracted black shifting shapes taking the form of a mindless monster.

He scurried down the hall, and you unceremoniously bursted through the small door leaving a gaping hole to your room. You bellowed and Jax felt his world crashing down on him. Did.. he cause this? Did he make you abstract?

His mind was racing and he hurried and hid around a corner. Fuck, fuck fuck. He grabbed his head and slid to the floor.

Even for someone like him this was too much, too much too fast. He was going to apologize. He.. didn't mean any of this he was just a dumb ..idiotic bunny. Jax relentlessly scolded himself until Ragatha came rounding the corner, huffing and puffing.

"J..Jax! Thank god.. y/n .. they abstracted.. we have to find Caine.. Jax..?"

He was smiling, but it was more crazed. "T.. This is all my fault.. I.. I'm.. Hah.." He laughs, and lowers his head so Ragatha couldn't see his expression.

"Go get Caine Rags.. I'll distract y/n." His voice was monotone.

"W.. What? No, let's go together—" She tried to reach her hand out and he immediately slapped it away. "I said go get Caine! Now." His voice was laced with a growl but in no way intimidating.. no, his voice shook. It was on the brink of breaking.

Jax stood up and walked in your direction, you were hard to miss. Leaving destruction in your very path.

"Y/N!" He called out, trying to get your attention. And that he did, your large form turned to face him. Bellowing loudly as you ran right for him, but he didn't move.. he stayed completely still and without hesitation you knocked him into a wall. "A.. Alright, you.. earned that one.." He said weakly, trying to pull away from your grasp now but you kept slamming him into different surfaces until he was glitching out uncontrollably.

"Oh my ! You were not exaggerating!" Caine's voice could be heard from a distance, but Jax was in far too much pain to even register it. The glitching hurt, but maybe its what he deserved for being such a asshole. Not just now, but all the time. Maybe his luck finally ran out and karma was here to bite him in the ass.

"And away with you!" Your abstracted form was tossed into the cellar by Caine and Jax reached out to you without thinking, "N.. No.." But you disappeared beneath floor.

Snap!

Jax was back to normal, the pain was gone.. well physically anyway, the pain from losing you was still burning deep in his chest. He didn't have anything to say. Any questions that Caine and Ragatha threw at him was ignored. He walked by them, and all the other members who began to show up after hearing all the commotion. He could hear their voices trailing off , talking about you.

How could you do this?

Do you think it could have been too much them?

Was it Jax..?

He walked faster and slammed the door to his room. Locking it behind him. Maybe it would be better if he stayed here..away from everyone where he could no longer cause any harm.

His thoughts only got louder and more consuming , his room seemed to shrink and box him in.. he sat on the ground before curling up in a fetal position as his thoughts started to eat him alive.

Just then, there was a brief glitch in his vision.

[goat-shoe]

ok, i Rant time

ive been reading this fic Knowing itd be a mess and im just... ive had it with this characterization! aimless rant below ^^;;;

tw for bullying, harassment, abuse, homophobia

so a lot of highschool AUs are just..... Bad? like LOL sorry :x but. youre taking away everything interesting about the miraculous holders, And youre trying to make Fully Grown Adults into children. ??????

n e ways, i found this highschool dropout au,,, im Sure you can guess how i feel abt dugout and tiderdrop together, but personal biases aside (its Icky to me and someday ill figure out why)..... lets read this fic.

(to prove i am Not taking things out of context, heres the whole fic)

FIRST of all, youre ognna notice that the prose is Boring, written in long and uninspired runon sentences. i dont wanna just bash on an inexperienced writer, but if youre gonna be this lazy about it.. who is it for :x

second, headcanoning mariquitas name as the Only spanish name you can think of that starts with "mari"? is just uninspired. mariquita wouldnt Choose a hero name so obviously close to her Real Name.. again im not an unmasker, but this headcanon is ridiculous....

finally, and most importantly.... "he sighs wearily". umm, No actually. he Doesnt. you dont even get an insight into dugouts thoughts other than "im nervous about school >m<"

Needless to say, this and his whiny, whimpering demeanor is incredibly infantilizing,. Furthermore in this context, all it does is plays into the ""yaoi"" trope of a big buff bad big boy x boy who says uwaaah! (i hope it goes without saying, this is Not a condemnation of boys who say uwahh, yall are doing gods work and ily)

cramming tigerdrop and dugout into this trope comes off as (and actually is) incredibly homophobic and harmful. need i remind you, these are real people. i wouldnt be surprised if this author was a fujoshi or something too :x

anyways.

im a dugout fan Because hes reserved, but in this fic, thats being watered down to him just being sad and whiny.

its just so insulting to be written shrugging every 3 sentences. dugout im so sorry theyre doing this to you ;;;

guhh. ill give them points for this cute relationship with mariquita...

but again, the prose is just.. clumsy. and again, all dugout does is whine about change. its not even a realistic portrayal of adjustment disorder :x

speaking of disorders Lol,

we Know how i feel abt tigerdrop, but i tend to actually like fanfic portrayals of him.

but this one is just... Confusing...

(also we have mandatory "describe their entire outfit in vapid detail" LOL i should have made this a bingo)

i havent really been talking about the plot, but heres what it took the author two chapters to get through:

dugout it new in town, hes nervous about the changes. (we dont even know why he misses home??? just, make it up i guess, god forbid a fanfiction Make That part up!!!!!!)

tigerdrop has lived in new york all his life, and he appears to be pretty bored with life (ex: pushes pipsqueak over just because he thought itd be funny, no doubt an allusion to the canal street incident last july)

his characterization is actually really confusing and i think its supposed to be like, Alluring??? but its just disconcerting :x

thats It. Two established characters and empty conversations with others (the mariquita mischaracterization especially drives me up the wall ever since i confirmed my kin with her)

they meet in math class when dugout unknowingly sits in tigerdrops seat..... girl, Literally no one in high school acts like this.

at this point, this fic is no better than glee and the millions of other incorrect and careless portrayals of highschoolers. tigerdrop has some weird banter with the faceless teacher (yet Another reason i hate most highschool fics)

:/ i Kinda saw it coming, but....

tigerdrop apologizing and not meaning it? In character. But, hes just acting like a greaser, and its Weird

dugout wouldnt care! he would not look like "a deer in the Headphones."

i Realize the author doesnt have a beta reader but :x that doesnt excuse pawning off lazy work btw, in case anyone was wondering....

last but probably Most important: this is setting up such a toxic dynamic. tigerdrop is actively pushing the message that dugout is taking up too much space and he doesnt belong. its alienating and shitty. and this is a fic Shipping Them :x

but i Clicked on a dropout fic, so.... should i be surprised :/

like i said. dugout is Already afraid of him.. his body is reacting just to the sound of his voice, not unlike trauma in PTSD victims!

like. guh. this is literally so toxic. also..

take a shot every time you see the word "smirks"

lips ghosting his nose And ear? Lol.....

likely The Worst way to incorporate their miraculous personas :x reading this literally made me nauseous.

anyways.... thats all of the fic thats been posted so far. so to summarize: this is just Icky. its even worse, setting this kind of relationship in their high school years :x imagine if someone treated you this way! youre Not gonna grow up and marry them.

i Cant even.

~ ty for reading <3 ~

[evanisalittlelost]

This'll be a somewhat odd question to ask, but how did you.. I guess react on the story of how Nero back-handed your dad with his newfound devil trigger or giving his father (your uncle) a lesson in family beatdowns?

Oh boy, this is going to be long, so buckle up.

Whatever my dad said about nearly being killed by Nero's bitch slap is false. He did say that his jaw was dislocated and broken in several places for approximately five seconds or so, but you know Dante, he's a literal pincushion. Sometimes, I think he is also a masochist because I've seen his girlfriend 'accidentaly' impale his hand with a butter knife when he pissed her off. He just smiled.

Nero having a DT kinda makes me jealous. Honestly. He and I actually got to know each other while Dad and Vergil were in Hell. He had asked me if I was able to trigger and if it made me feel uncomfortable as it made him feel. I couldn't answer that, but knowing he felt uncomfortable with what we essentially are was kinda eye opening. We both have somewhat similar pasts where we had no idea who or what we are. Now we do, and it's a lot to think about. Being something other than human is special, but also really scary. Triggering is terrifying. Nero told me its painful for a moment and that it's like going into a different state of mind. He's there and in control, but it's a lot to handle. That's about all I can say.

Do I want to trigger? Not really. I like being as close to normal as can be.

As for family beatdowns... it was a long time coming. Nero feels he has to prove himself to Vergil. He also feels that Vergil doesn't give a damn. That can't be further from the truth.

In my eyes, Vergil is distant. Not because he wants to be, but because he is afraid. And this is me psycoanalizing here. To hear Nero explain how things happened during the Qliphoth was a little disconcerting. The fact that our fathers had a very traumatic childhood (way worse than mine could ever be) puts a lot into perspective. Dante and Vergil are scared to death of attachments. They are also terrified of themselves to a point. The same can be said for myself. But we aren't talking about me. I don't fight, but they do because that is how they deal with their childhood. The same goes for Nero, too. I deal with my trauma by paying a therapist to hear me talk for an hour twice a week. (Like normal people do).

Hearing that Nero actually fought his own father was unsurprising. He said it was a little cathartic because it showed him something and eased some of his worries. I've never had to fight Dad, but I do remember how it felt to actually meet the one parent that was absent in your life. I can't imagine fighting Dad to try and prove myself. But that is what happened.

Based on how Vergil treats me, I don't think Nero has to prove anything. They still don't see eye to eye, but I suppose that's because they don't talk. If Nero and Vergil ever talked to each other, they would get past the brick wall they put up.

But no beatdowns have happened since the Qliphoth... thankfully. Just a lot of stares, grunts, and me trying to play mediator while Dad does what he does.

Anyway, I hope this answers everything.

In in-between classes right now, but definitely feel free to ask some more questions. I kinda find this really cathartic myself.

[toinfinitywinning]

Moments and massive revelations —the really special realm of Hell.

Stubbornness. Pain. Lament. Jealousy. No Confidence but w/ a good selfie smile b/c ur Dog can’t take pictures, & no stick b/c u Def picked the wrong one or something. I say similar thoughts a lot…and w/ teardrops on my guitar …so I’m paying close attention. This stuff is dangersome.

Okay. I’ll just make a list.

Growth and learning during:

- humility. throw your Pride out the Door-you will need help.

- regardless of the wrong’s you righted before getting sick. They’re still achievements, but they’re not realized. So then you think was it worth it? Yes, but is it too much to ask to bask in it for just a bit? I mean I am talking multiple, major Life changes. Ha—here’s COVID-19. After that you better be in for the Long-Haul too ‘cuz…

- appreciation for the very minute of things we do in a Day. Getting the mail is difficult for me. Brushing my teeth —out of breath so have to incorporate breaks to breathe Right.

- there are more people Who care about you than you ever knew. It’s not just b/c you’re going through this, people just may be more Vocal. Makes complete sense but took me a bit to get there.

- you will want to throw something, scream into a pillow, drown in self pity —some of which you think you don’t deserve or are allowed. Do it anyway. Safely.

- some days u just gotta laugh. I mean fr b/c u can’t even cry. And things R absurd LOL

- regardless of your spiritual Life or beliefs. You’re gonna be angry at the God or State of mind supposed to save you and take it all away. Then realize that’s not at all the point. We’re not puppets. Think of how dull Life would be w/o the ecstasy from an achievement or how mundane if we didn’t have anything to have Faith in or Hope for or Love or forgive. That’s why we’re not born in Heaven maybe. We have to try first. I don’t want to be a Lazarus. I wanna fight. And we may never know an answer or reason to any of it. That’s gonna take a lifetime to settle b/c there is no rationality to be had.

- I do not mean this to pettifog. You actually do find out Who comes through for you. That old country song line.

- it’s possible to have a Good Day even full of Pain and Discomfort but u kinda have to make yourself and accept its potential consequence for participating.

- the little things aren’t little anymore. You envy people Who can do normal things. Things you used to do without a problem in the world.

- I’ve had to do a lot of fixing in my Life. This may not be perfectly fixed. We don’t have a Choice but to either live with it as a strength and inspiration or stay negative and pouty about what once was. Even tho you have every reason to.

- you will learn so much about yourself. So much. And most things I’ve learned have been new revelations. May have always been there but there to manifest as needed. It’s not all great but I’m not the same person just a few more grayish hairs.

- you will experience numbness. You can sit with it & pull your compression socks down for a bit, b/c this is something no one deserves. You just can’t live there.

- patience. You will never have to try harder. Hyper, hyper sensitivity.

- a journey to healing IF ever realized will be the hardest job you’ve ever had to do. More overtime than you can be paid. And u didn’t even interview. In a material result and no result world it’s disconcerting not to “get anything back”

- you’ll think back about previous hard times. How in that moment life was the worst it could ever be. How much time do u have lol. Next bad thing, ugh so much harder. And while all of this is very true, and all real, i will tell you that to know true strength is to come into any light possible while wielding off not just the physical, but all the emotions of the rainbow and mind. This even is a choice. People complimented you about your strength and are inspired by your determination to think u can. Girl were we wrong...you can make all the “Right” choices and healthy habits and still get punked over and over by Kevin McCalister. When I appreciate people now I try to take their “all” of them. Who are they in that moment. It is a different Life. And anyone else’s journey? Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to witness triumph b/c of how many obstacles went unseen. Yet they made it.

- the only person allowed to say “it could be worse” is you. Period. To be otherwise feels a bit like a competition. We, going through it, already know that. I have the same complaint when it feels like some people or orgs compete for who’s ‘wokest’? B/c if that’s why we’re / I’m doing how disingenuous.

- when words/phrases like holiday or vacation or lets Go out give you more Anxiety and worsen your Physical Health—that’s when you know your Life has done a 180. Especially if those were the times you lived for. This hard Truth and reality is one of the hardest for me. I already had Anxiety about unpacking after vacation before I packed in the first place but whether or not waiting until you really have to Go to the bathroom so u can (while you’re up) also get some water is just something I would have thought before as one of the dumbest things I’d ever heard. And how cruel is that knowing what I know and feel now.

- Life is not a give and take like we want it to be. If that were the Case I’m not positive we’d ever know what healing or getting better really means. Not only that—you may give more than any other, and nothing. You may see the best doctors and access to all the Meds and tests put forward. Nothing. Pretty soon things are hollow and harrowing. Kind of like the celebrities Who swear that money does not make you happy. It’s like a bandaid that doesn’t stay on in the shower, the ones at Doc offices u get after shots. With mickey on them.

- I think joy is like a preventative medicine. When you practice taking it, You save it up and changes you. Like any of my tattoos, there’s gotta be a story there or something meaningful even if your answer starts off, “well spring break senior year we were…’ you get it. Hangover 1-3 movies. HappYness fleets around. More drug like. Addictive really. Impulsive. Every big chain company’s biggest threat if they can get us hooked. You just got swindled. Ha and to Go a bit more political—people know this scheme is pyramid like and use sneaky ways to have Power over you. Goodness I’m not trying to make this sound like a happy cult but there’s just Def a difference.

- you are exhausted mind body and Soul and regardless of consequence you have to choose some times to be present b/c for me I don’t want to Miss out on vacations and holiday’s. But it is an hourly debate. But I can’t just sit there every significant interaction.

- you’re tired. You’ve been strong, resilient, ppl tell you and u appreciate it. But I get tired of having to stay strong. It’s just so overwhelming and for me especially b/c “I can do it alone.” I’ve failed at that a few times.

- you’ll notice things you never have before. Suddenly they mean something like whether u can drive to get Food.

- being a bit redundant but part of stewardship on my End is allowing the help. Someone WANTS to do something for you for THEIR spiritual needs. Not in a vain type of Way. Let them. We’ve all been on the other side.

- you will experience a full range of emotions. Address them separately. Ppl still might look up to you.

- you’ll wanna give up. Don’t. Maybe your continuing going on is the stewardship someone recognizes in themselves. Idk. Pay it forward?

- lastly. YOU don’t KNOW everything. Karma could very well be your best friend, but that line of thinking is non productive and will only take u so far before you’re complaining re something else. B/c regardless of what I’ve done, —and given its timing you learn a karma hostage relationship is something easier holding on to than facing it. Just deflect.

That’s okay. When ready move on to the New Testament. I’m not fully there. But, I have to think the puppet analogy doesn’t apply here too. Shit happens. Ask that dude running with Forrest with a tshirt company dream that died and some dog shizz. Just control what you can. Easier said than done. Thats why when we do overcome—it means more. It’s engrained. Forever inevitable if you can continue to separate the wheat from the chaff. Card Game of Bullshit.

- ppl at some point think you’re being dramatic and begging for attention as if any more attention is what would heal us

- comments like you look Good or sound fine fall deaf. Well So do ppl Right before they kill themselves. Anymore how u look doesn’t have Shit of a correlation

- you’ll get on ppl’s nerves

- you’ll be resented and questioned how sick u really are. Trust me faking —that’s the last Fucking thing on our minds.

- I don’t need to explain anything

[chunky-ruckus]

I'm probably going to remove this chapter from Itty Bitty- it just doesn't fit- but I like it well enough to save. I'm keeping it here, on my OC blog, and I'm not sure if I should put it back on ao3 as something else? An outtake of some sort? Generally I hate getting rid of my writing / making it inacessable to others. Lmk I guess, it's just kinda.... Self indulgent bs anyway (not in a bad way) lol

___

Another morning.

More and more, you believe you were destined to die on Alt-

Aaah, wait a minute. Depression, you sly dog, you think. You almost had me using groundhog’s day as both a metaphor and a plot device. The bitch is good, but you got her number. And you refuse to booty call on this fine, foggy evening.

And it is fine and foggy. The espresso machine gives its awful death gurgle just like every morning, but you can’t see the lonely subgrubs beneath you, and so you get to skip making a new penguin analogy completely. You consider a silent hill analogy, bringing your hand to your chin in deep thought. It’s ten minutes wasted, and 15 hours 50 minutes to go before you can reasonably go to sleep again.

Haha. This sucks, man. 

You check your calendar, Maybe you have some more, secret events scheduled? But, save for the lonely event a week ago, there’s nothing. 

It occurs to you that you can schedule your own events. And why shouldn’t you? Why shouldn’t you put things in your calendar that you’ve already been doing? As a treat?

Fifteen minutes later. Stelsa would be so proud: your calendar app now has a streak of teal, those days where she’s got you on her calender. You suspect this is a secret plot device that will help you later.

Half an hour down since you woke up. You’re doing this. You’re making today happen.

...You’re staring blankly at your fridge. Which, to be fair, is adorned with pictures that Karako and Wanshi drew for you last time you visited the caverns. It’s so rare to see Karako at all, let alone with the jades.

The picture he drew of himself, protecting you with a psychic aura in pink and purple and your own body sprouting viscera like vines, is shockingly adorable. Wanshi’s companion piece, of her as a mother cat bringing you a piece of her hunt to share with kittycat!you (presumably not dead yet, which is quite a vote of confidence for your constitution) and kittycat!Karako (covered in blood and smiling one of those anime emoji smiles), is a bit more horrifying.

Ten more minutes down. 

You sigh. You know it’s up to you to get into some antics, some real shenanigans if you’re lucky, but your inspiration well is dry and frankly the Alternian dim season is fucking bleak. You’ve noticed more trolls lately are indulging in their violent tendencies. Everyone is moody and dark circles are more likely to be black eyes these days.

It’s going to be a long day.

It’s 1:30 when your pho- er, palmhusk starts buzzing.

You almost don’t recognize the sound over the humming of your fridge. How’s this for beating depression? You’re deep cleaning. Thinking about future meals. Considering a walk, even. Who’s doing it like you?

Shit. The palmhusk is still going hog fucking wild on your counter.

It occurs to you that you very rarely hear palmhusks buzz on this planet. In fact, you’ve set yours to do not disturb mode. You close the fridge- oops, you left the bottle of cleaning spray Marsti lent you- and check your phone.

Marvus is requesting to facetime. And here you were, thinking you’d have to come up with your own stupid bullshit for today. 

You slide the little button around on screen until you manage to answer.

“Ayooo,” he says, hair fanning around his shoulders- excluding his forelock, wrapped up in a little pink curler- as he reclines upside down on a bubblegum pink chaise. “Lunch time, baby, you ate yet?” He picks his teeth as if to sharpen them, readying himself for his own lunch. The muscles and tendons on his slender neck stand out like the waving arms of a crowd; it's mostly disconcerting, a little bit alluring.

“Already?” You knew it was after midnight, but connecting the dots of what time is it and when do you do the things that keep you alive is a bit beyond you right now. Your stomach rumbles. “I guess it is. No, I didn’t eat yet.”

“Real shit,” Marvus says. “Pick up whatever you want and bring it here.”

“I have,” you say, no shame left after the events of friendmageddon, “no money.”

“Yeah no shit,” Marvus twists his face at you, “but I got cash comin’ out both ends, babe. Catch me shitting singles.” Sounds like terrible news for the next stripper Marvus hires. “Catering place ain’t delivering today," they definitely are, "and my roadies are all setting up R N.” Oh, you hate that. He’s verbally conveying text talk? It would have been the same amount of syllables.

“You’re full of shit,” you say. “If you have so much money, buy some more guys to do your chores for you.” Your tone is only harsh in a playful sense, but you can’t help but laugh.

“Money can’t buy good company,” he says, winking. Leaning upside down has leant his face a boyish charm: all of what little fat he carries on his face has gravitated to his cheeks, and you can see a faint purple tint to his ears and hairline that shows he’s either blushing or about to faint from a head-rush. You can hear his heels thumping against the wall. A few trolls in the background are banging an accompanying beat onto what sounds like a table covered in plastic beads. Then Marvus’s face gets all mock-serious, too much squinting smile in his eyes to really scare you. “Man, hurry tha fuck UP if you’re tryna snack.”

“Send me a lift,” you say.

“Sheeeeesh,” he says, squinting his eyes, biting his lip, and bringing his L shaped fingers to his chin. “We love a gold digger.”

His eyes are starting to un-focus. Good, you hope he passes out in a silly little heap at your feet. Jerk. Clown. Asshole. You sigh affectionately.

“I’m serious. My whip,” you say, watching Marvus close his eyes and smile dreamily at your vernacular, “is outta gas.”

“Well my whip,” you watch him tap something on his palmhusk screen and nearly piss your pants when you hear a clown horn rendition of La Cucaracha horn right outside your window, “is already there.” When you look outside, some huge bug is scuttling horribly up the cliffside. Oh, the buggy- scuttle- scuttlebuggy? It looks like a vintage volkswagon, but stupid and with iridescent green-shifting-purple wings for doors. It’s carrying a pair of pink fuzzy dice in its... Grill? That seems to be the appropriate word: the gold plated mandible brings to mind both gold plated teeth and also the front of a car.

“It’s already paid for. Get ya’self something good,” Marvus says. Then he just hangs up on you.

Well. Beats deep cleaning your kitchen. Then again, your fridge can’t hang up on you.

Think of the devil, you hear something explode inside your fridge. You do not want to know.

You grab your coat and jump out of the window, towards Marvus’s scuttlebuggy.

“Too late, lapachka!” 

A huge clown in a striped shirt stops you at the door to the green room.

Another clown, half his size and with a half-shaved head, peeks her head from around him. “Don’t twist your willy, Silly, that’s Marvus’s-”

Marvus’s what, you’ll never be sure- maybe just Marvus’s, period- because yet another clown pushes her aside and stares down at the catering you’ve got stacked in your hands, mouth rounded and hands-to-cheeks in a delighted expression that only a clown could pull off.

“Marvus’s food, Mimz, back off.” Oh. You hope you aren’t included in that category. This stern clown is smaller than the other two, but is able to push them back into the green room.

The big guy- Silly?- sticks a sucker into his mouth and winks at you. “Za moe zdorov'e,” he says around the sweet.

The other, mime themed one- Mims?- reaches forward like a lover in a movie, desperate for a bite. You hope, for the second time that night, you aren’t a tasty treat for some clown cannibal.

“You know how he gets when he’s hungry.” The stern one pouts at them both, hands on her hips.

The clown signs something, and they all laugh.

“That’s soooo funny,” says the stern one, in a weird affectation of a valley girl accent, tilted slightly towards bored. 

“He’s so-” starts Silly, but steam starts coming out of his nose, and he sighs, sucking harder on the sucker.

The mime signs something at you, raising one brow.

“She’s asking if you’re here to eat,” says the stern one, a suggestive lilt to her tone.

“You think so?” says Silly. God, you can’t get a word in edgewise. And here you were, clowning for free. These guys are clearly professionals. “Maybe he wants an audience of one tonight.” He is no more endearing for his thick, russian-adjacent accent. You bristle. The clowns are laughing.

“The food is mine, actually,” you say, because you love getting killed with extreme prejudice by clowns.

The stern one smiles at you, nudging affectionately. “Sure,” she says. “So you aren’t sharing, zaychik?” She pouts. It's adorable, in the same way that a cougar is adorable until it GETS you.

The mime signs, puffing out her cheeks and pouting.

“We all paid something to be here,” Silly translates through a mouth of marshmallow.

They all look at you as one. You suspect they are only telling a half truth here. For the bit.

And you’re the punchline.

Silly comes back towards you. “Go,” he says, sticking the sucker in your mouth. It’s covered in saliva, but you can’t seem to spit it out. “Enjoy the show. Eat later.”

They slam the door behind you. You can hear the tearing of cheap takeout boxes, laughter, and the loud screaming of “bad ideas through this door: three for one special.”

Well, fuck.

You suck on the lollipop. As you exhale, you notice your breath is warmer, wetter. Steam leaves your nose and gathers around your ears. It's the very physical representation of a bad idea.

Well, why not roll with it? You are hungry for more than just lunch now. Although a quick rolling rumble in your stomach reminds you that lunch was your primary objective.

Damn Marvus. If you don't get your lunch, you're gonna... you're going to....

Well, you'll deep clean his green room and he'll never feel comfortable again. 

A team of blue blooded body guards, suits bursting at the seams, stand guard in front of the stage entrance. So that's not the way. They wiggle and jiggle in your vision; low blood sugar must be making you dizzy.

So. You sigh. You're sneaking in. To one of Marvus's concerts.

And you didn’t even bring your concert diaper.

“Za moe zdorov'e,” you mimic the sound of Silly’s words, sucking sugar, and then you’re pushing your way into the crowd, steam surrounding you.

The guards don’t even try stop you.

You stumble in slow motion through a crowd made of 2-d people. It's like you can see the secret workings of Alternia: all of these trolls are just paper puppets on a string. You follow the lights: all leads to behind Marvus's head.

He is so beautiful. You're struck by him. His smiling face. His easy stage presense. And, to top it off, shawty got the flatty. He looks less flat than the crowd; you suspect his lighting crew is just that good.

All in all, being in the crowd is just like last time. But this time, you're the weird part.

You muscle- a strong word for looking letting trolls see you cry and spooking the hell out of them- your way through towards the front. A girl with succulents in her hair bumps you. Her face drip, drip, drips and sloughs off her skull and into your hair. You wear her face like a mask. Everything is horrible.

The crowd pushes and pulls you. There’s blood fucking everywhere. It gets in your nose. It gets in your mouth. You chew it; it tastes like paper.

God damn it. You started this day rejecting your own groundhog’s day scenario, and look where it’s gotten you. You should have crafted a fucking penguin analogy.

There’s not too much you can do, really, except for hang on to the barrier once you reach it, fighting for your fucking life. You don’t even see the way back, that little path of destiny that led you out here.

You’ve been here before; you think it's a little poetic that the first and- what is becoming more and more likely- the last time you meet Marvus is in his stupid River of Dyx.

The only difference is that the longer the show goes on, the more disoriented you get. You’ve been intoxicated on Alternia before, and you're pretty sure you’re intoxicated once again. The fact that you keep confusing people for plants is a pretty big point in your theory's favor.

It’s got to be the sucker. Or maybe clown saliva is hallucinogenic. Either way, you’re feeling like the sucker now.

And you didn’t even get lunch out of this deal. You’re doing your best to emote a little frowny face above your head so that everyone knows your displeasure.

People are definitely crowding you, as if enough pressure can shrink your stomach. Fold it over itself and make you feel less hungry.

Yes. It's working. You emote a little thumbs up emoji. Nobody is watching you, though, now that you're at the front.

Marvus.

Marvus sings sweetly on stage, his mouth wide and teeth glittering, but you can barely hear him over the screaming of several thousand, bloodthirsty teens. And two saguaros singing operatic scales. Why is singing so much like screaming? The lights lower and frame his head like a halo, and you’re lulled to drowsiness. 

When you open your eyes again, it’s in a sea of cacti and corpses.

You want to scream, but you are already screaming. And so is everyone else, even the corpses.

You don’t know how it happens. If it’s even real. Marvus floats down from the stage like an angel and into the crowd's embrace like a lover. He doesn't cross the barrier. He holds his hand out to you, but you can't move to take it. You're drooling.

You’re floating. You think you’re crowdsurfing, which should be impossible. You’re dead, aren’t you? All the rest of those trolls are.

“I’m dead,” you say, testing the waters. Nobody reacts, or seems to care at all.

Marvus does that thing. The whole well what have we got here LOL etc etc. Just like last time. You can barely see his shadow for the light: two more months of stageplay. His stage voice vibrates in his chest, you can almost feel it in your own sternum. Buzzing like purring.

You wish that whoever was running your life would use a different plot device. Groudhog’s day is so cliche. It’s getting old. 

But, so it goes. He's going to go for the kill again. But this time, you-

There's no starstruckness this time: you’re genuinely afraid. You don’t want to double die on Alternia. You didn’t want to die at all.

The canesword comes towards you. You grab him by the wrist, but he’s so strong and you’re so out of it that it means nothing. So you flinch- 

The canesword stabs you in the shoulder. It hurts like hell. Bone grinds against metal. You pull it out and you bleed all over his shiny, waxed stage. How will he dance with his shoes slick with his blood? When did you get on stage?

“Thought this thing,” you say, groggily, “was a stage prop.”

Marvus’s face is stark raving naked in front of you. Eyes wide, mouth frowning and agape. Shocked.

But he recovers quickly, turning towards the crowd again. He brings the canesword to his mouth and, in what would be corny in a porno, licks your blood from the tip. With a wink and everything. How are you even friends with him. People are screaming. You can only hear the rumbling of his voice in his chest. You just fall uselessly to the ground again. It's all you've got.

When you open your eyes, the world is lit up in black-light and neon paint, all in dizzying stop motion. Two dimensional people on a two dimensional backdrop.

All but Marvus, who is staring at you, frowning in more dimensions that you can interpret. He is so beautiful, slender of jaw and wide of mouth. White knuckled grip on his canesword. Hair so perfect from the ghost of a single, pink curler. His eyes are bright, wild. He's frowning through a smile.

He holds his hand out to you.

You, whether you want to or not, go to him. He grabs you softly by each hand, kissing the backs of them.

"I could take care of you," he whispers. Just for you. "When it all goes to shit, you know? You make my kokoro go doki-doki and shizz." Corpse flowers and roaches bloom from the bodies beneath the stage, now decomposing. "Phee-ew," Marvus plugs his nose. "Ain't that something? Take a fuckin whiff, babe."

He shoves a corpse flower into your face and your whole world goes black.

___

You wake up when water fucking drenches you.

Marvus is chewing and singing softly; you turn to look at him. He sings: “I said it must be ‘cause a,” then he chews and hums through the word, scrolling on his phone, “got dough. Extraordinary swag and a mouth full of-” he pops the last bite of food in his mouth, still humming, then juggles a water balloon and throws it at the wall above you.

“Mouth full of what,” you say, unamused and soaking wet.

His head jerks up. “You up, babe?”

You want to answer, but you’re too busy coughing and choking on what tastes like your own blood and tap water. 

“Daayyyum, shawty!” Marvus says, doing that stupid fuckboy lip bite again. When you don't smile, he rips a piece of meat apart, grabs a pinch of rice, and shoves it into your mouth. “Mouth full of that.”

His thumb brushes your lip; you had no idea his skin was so oily. You wonder if he's been picking food up off the floor and eating it with his fingers. He wipes some sauce from your lip, and then sticks his thumb into your mouth. You tongue the last bit of rice from the whorls of his finger tip, some sauce from under his nail. A hint of his sweat accompanies the flavors of what is unmistakably chinese food.

He feeds you like that for a while. There are no cameras. Your head is pounding. He wipes your mouth for you every so often after you cough and the napkin is stained red.

His voice is soft when he speaks next, shoving a piece of orange chicken into your mouth. “Gotta get better at lying, bud.”

“Lying?” You ask through your mouth full of food.

He shrugs, taking his own bite of orange chicken. He’s holding his chopsticks all fucked up; it’s a miracle any food makes it to his mouth. “Killed you that first time ‘cause you was dying, dog. Killed you this time ‘cause you lied.”

“You’re really bad at killing me,” you say. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smile. He pinches your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, and sticks the bite meant for him into your mouth. His mouth is bigger than  yours; it's an ordeal to chew and swallow. What a way to tell you to shut up.

“Guess so,” he says, putting his chopsticks down. He’s resolutely not looking at your face. His gaze is fixated on your shoulder. “All lies got a little bit of truth in ‘em, though.” He rubs the ruined, bloody fabric of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. It's so ginger that you want to interpret it as shy.

You shrug his hand away and- ah, shit, you’re still bleeding pretty bad. His bubblegum pink couch is a mess of your blood.

“What about you?” You ask, unable to tear your gaze away from his dilated pupils. The grain of rice stuck to his lip. “That guy on stage, how much truth is there in that?” You reach out-

“Lot of truth in that,” he says, wiping the grain of rice away with his thumb. Sticking it into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t ask.

“This is just like our first meeting,” you say, but it comes out flat.

“Nah,” Marvus says, offering you the box of beetle and broccoli. You decline. “Totally different. Now, you know what I'm all about.”

It’s a very sweet thing to say. Marvus seems to think so too, because he fucks it up immediately. “Now we’re tight. We’re buds. Ain’t we?”

“Oh,” you say. “Yeah. Dope.” You try for a winning smile, but Marvus isn’t having it.

“Sure didn’t act like it out there, though.” Oh, god, he’s honest-to-god pouting at you. He sticks a beetle into his mouth. It crunches. Sickening.

“Marvus,” you say, just as testy. “I don’t even know what was happening. Also I am bleeding so profusely. Oh, god, wait,” horror fills you. It couldn’t be real, could it? “Marvus.” You sit up, clutching on to your shoulder. “Do I make your kokoro go doki-doki?”

"Do I make your what-ero go who what now?" He gives you a scrunched-up look, confused.

Oh, thank god.

“Never mind,” you say, laying back down. If your blood won’t remain in your body, by god you are going to let your body remain on his couch. 

“Guess you was a lil confused before, huh?” He says, suddenly understanding. He pulls something off your pants... Oh, the stick to the sucker. You chewed off some of the paper, making the world’s shittiest, most useless shank. “Without me?” He pouts, but this time it's so fake you could see yourself laughing about it.

But, frankly, you’re still feeling testy. Does he not care that you’re bleeding out on his couch? That you were drugged? Kicked out of his greenroom that he invited you to?

“Friends,” you start, giving him a much more prodigious pout than he gave you. “Keep each other safe.”

“Not on Alternia, they dont.” Marvus’s eyes have gone soft, flitting from you to your shoulder; he flexes his hands, cracking his fingers.

“Well, I thought you would.”

Marvus physically startles at this, looking completely bewildered.

“You said you’d take care of me,” you say, and then you realize that was some kind of drug induced fever dream. “Or, you did in my dream.”

Marvus leans forward, slow and careful. He leans his elbows on his knees and folds his hands together. “Well, ain’t I said all lies got a little bit of truth in them?”

Then he leans in.

He’s smiling, his teeth sharp and glittering. “You been dreaming bout me, babe?”

“Yeah,” you stutter, leaning back. His eyes are on yours, pupils so dilated they’re black.

“And what do you know about me? Ain’t you been taught to be afraid?” His words wash over your face in a humid smog and you can smell his breath: chinese food and something earthy, probably bugs.

You don’t say anything, suddenly still as the wall stops you from backing up anymore.

“You was afraid back then,” his eyes lower to your shoulder, and his lids grow heavy. “When you got stabbed." He drags his hand under his eyes, revealing the purple waters.

“Nice passive voice, asshole. You stabbed me.”

He laughs, bringing his hand up to cover his eyes this time, and then he leans in further.

You think, for a wild moment, that he’s going to kiss you. His fingers come from his eyes to wrap around your head, his thumb stroking your jaw. He looks at you; you close your eyes. His breath is humid against your throat, and then his lips touch the edge of your wound.

It's simultaneously a kiss, and nothing like it. It stings.

His eyes roll up in a characature of ecstasy. He's looking straight at you.

To say you’re shocked is an understatement. You are so out of your element that you can only really roll with it.

He licks you, next, your red blood bright on his bruiseberry-grey tongue. Your breath stutters; it’s a sweet kind of pain, like pressing against a hangnail, or wrapping a bruise.

He hums beneath you. “Like that,” he breathes, and you don’t know if he’s asking or telling or offering, but you nod anyway.

He sighs against the wound, and then wraps his lips around your shoulder, pressing his teeth slightly into your skin.

His other hand has made its way to your waist, and he’s petting you slowly, like you’re his human stim toy. His other hand grabs you behind the shoulder, and he pulls you closer to him, groaning against your skin.

It hurts. It hurts, and it doesn't; it's so bizarre that it manages a horrible, frightening intimacy. His breath is on your skin. He's making noises that you can't inerpret. His fingers comfort. He- there's no better word for it- laps at your blood.

You, for your part, curl around him. Wind the perfect forlock of his hair through your fingers and ruin it. You ruin each other: Marvus gives you anemia, you give him a bad hair day.

With his lips around the gushing wound on your shoulder, he sucks slowly, looking up at you and giving you this shy smile like he’s not sure if you like it.

“Yeah,” you say. The world grows fuzzy at the edges. His eyes close as his tongue hits your skin, and you sigh.

His breath stutters against your neck, then he bites you. So, you pull his hair, hissing.

When he opens his eyes, he smiles again, his show smile. As if you're pulling it out of him. Twinkling on, your little star.

His hair is inhuman beneath your fingers, like very fine wire.

You close your eyes.

"You owe me lunch," you say.

And then you don’t wake up.

[thursdayglrl]

been like kinda low level dissociating a lot like the kind where its not so disruptive you just like,, have bad memory and don’t recognize yourself in the mirror and sometimes are disconcerted by your own voice or wtv. and its mostly irritating but sometimes something in my head will just shift and i’ll feel like i’m looking at everything thru a new angle like when you have a growth spurt and you’re like wtf why do things look different. anyway that’s entertaining

[yuhi-san]

i know tumblr doesnt have algorithm but there must be some bizzare rule of thumb or anything that they use for the 'for you' site. i mean my blogs you follow site is full of blogs i certainly did not decide tonfollow (i picked like 5 blogs consciously lol)

anyway i took a nap and now my for you page has some tiktok girl pro ana posts for every third one.

first i thought it was just one random blog but then i checked and it's like 5 different ones.

the reason i think the tiktok thing is because it took me way too long to decipher the tags that had more numbers than letters. 4n0r3x14 was harder to make out as 'anorexia' than i thought it should be

anyway its weird af because nothing in my whole online activiy would be reason. also kinda unsetteing, looking at their blogs about. its like one mind and just... uff

[neurotypical-karen]

I just want to remind everyone that it’s ok to not feel joy at someone’s suffering, even if they’re a horrible person. It’s even okay to feel Extremely uncomfortable when you see other people celebrating their suffering. Like obviously you shouldn’t share that on a random person’s post but it’s like, a normal emotional reaction to have.

[the-breloominati]

also opened up my email today and nearly had a heart attack because theres a fuckin????? ap exam ticket in there?????? and the exam was like idk 2 or 3 days ago so uhhhhhhhhhh

w h o o p s

also theres a new text feature apparently?

now I can finally talk as quietly as I want

tbh kinda feel like I'm fucking up everything today but that's fine

i'm

f i n e

[tattooedstanzas]

moms be like... i’m dating this guy and he’s funny and great and it’s ok to want a partner! 

[shoezuki]

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack 

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises. 

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears. 

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones. 

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other 

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

 he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence. 

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him. 

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter. 

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned. 

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

[honeymintki]

.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

no matter what it takes

summary: y/n is kidnapped, and for once reid can’t think of a solution

inspired by this request: Hiiiii! I absolutely love your writing it’s so amazing! I was wondering could there be a storyline where your all working a case (the reader is dating Spencer) and have a lead and you go to the suspect’s house and while there you get kidnapped when back at the BAU the team is trying to work out how to get you back and they get a ransom vid of you getting beaten (dark I know) so they all have to work faster and they find you but while you're taken can we see it from like Spencer’s POV and his thought process on your being gone. Anyways they find you and you’re like drugged majorly injured you wake up in hospital Spencer’s there and it’s fluffy at the end.I know that’s rough but I really love your writing and hope this is ok x

word count: 2,331                                                                                               reading time aprox: 8 mins

a/n: to whoever requested it, i kinda didn’t follow your format or ending. i’m really sorry to disappoint you, but i was writing the plot one way, then suddenly it took a turn. i hope you still enjoy it!

masterlist

Spencer’s POV

My eyes scanned the words in front of me, Charles Dickens displayed in between my hands. I hoped my thoughts would wander more as I explored the novel, taking my mind off of the case I worked previously.

Out of the blue, two soft hands appeared on my knotted hair, massaging the scalp tenderly. “Are you settling okay, my love? How was the case?”

I exhaled deeply, setting the book down beside me as I guided my best girl to my lap. I cushioned her to my side, nuzzling my nose into her shoulder.

“That bad, huh?” Y/N sympathized, trailing her fingers at the cut of my chin. I nodded into her, taking in her calming scent. She smelled of fresh daisies in the summer and the first layer of snow in the winter.

I lifted my head from hers, bringing my arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to me. I sighed in relief as a wave of calm brushed over me. “We were too late...we couldn’t get to one of the last hostages before the unsub.” I shook my head, taking her hand in mine. I examined the daintiness of her fingers, chuckling softly as I placed kisses upon each of them.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she whispered, nuzzling into me as we enjoyed each other’s presence. “Did you catch the unsub?”

“No...he got away last minute,” I sighed, running my hand over my face. “This unsub likes to make things personal. He only killed the last victim to mess with us.”

Silence infiltrated the conversation before it dived into the dark details of the case. The combined sounds of our breathing created a tranquil environment, lulling us to sleep with every second passed.

“I promise you Y/N...”

-

The shade of grey that covered the walls of the BAU prevented agents’ minds from meandering from their tasks. This proved quite effective in intended circumstances, although the caveat was the consequence of a disconcerted mind.

The film cast over my eyes exacerbated the existing burn from staring into space for too long. Although the sensation was unmatched for the void that consumed me from the inside. My limp fingers twitched beside me in a rhythmic pace, reminding me that this was real. My feet felt heavy against the granite tiles of the office, barely able to hold up the rest of my stature. I felt my muscles sag underneath my weight as the feeling of emptiness flooded from my torso to the knuckles of my hands.

“You be careful, Y/N!” I teased, watching as my lover’s silhouette disappeared into the elevator.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone!”

I shook my head, amused at the incessant Marvel-themed references that had been thrown my way since our last movie night. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

I hissed as I felt my nails dig into my palms. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been clenching my fists until I looked down to see blood trailing around my nail bed. Shaking my head, I cleaned off the evidence against my slacks, watching it seep through the material.

“Guys?”

My head shot up to find Penelope typing away at her computer. Her brows were crossed with worry and her eyes would flicker frantically between her four monitors. The rest of the team seemed to follow me to her station, gazing with anticipation at what she discovered.

“What do you have Garcia?”

“I-um. I’m picking up a satellite feed somewhere in Danbury, Connecticut,” she spilled out, her fingers shaking over her keys. “Ther-there’s a livestream that just went active two minutes ago, an-and it’s...there’s-oh my god.” Penelope pushed herself away from her screens, tearing her eyes away as her face grew hot.

“Reid. Out.” Hotch demanded, not taking his eyes off the feed in front of him. JJ moved beside him, further blocking my view of the monitor. Her face contorted in shock and disgust, similar to the expression Garcia beheld moments ago.

“What...why?” I questioned, taking steps forward to investigate, but was ultimately stopped by Morgan. A coil wrapped around my insides, getting tighter with every breath that I took. The sides of my forehead began to warm up with a disorienting blaze, traveling down my eyelids. The fire followed down to the pit of my stomach, sending an uneasy chill down my spine.

“Kid…” he whispered, shaking his head in caution.

“What…” I breathed, feeling my cheeks swell up. Morgan couldn’t meet my eyes--none of them could. “God, it’s my girlfriend. I deserve to know where the hell she is,” I huffed, pushing past Morgan. Although the words were launched back into my esophagus, turning into bile that burned away at my pride.

A high-pitched ringing echoed and bounced around my head. My ears thumped with a resonating drum, overwhelming my senses. Every sharp intake of air felt like ice shooting up my nostrils, and every exhale felt like fire to my lungs.

Y/N was hunched over in a chair with braces around her wrists and ankles. Her beautiful hair was matted with dirt and blood, sticking to the sides of her face. Her skin was painted with a mixture of sweat and grime, hiding the usual radiant glow of her skin. Fortunately, the blurry pixels of the video saved me from witnessing the large gashes that ran along her flesh.

A man stood next to her with a Cheshire grin, his pervasive eyes scanning every inch of his work before breaking the fourth wall. He stared at the camera with a joyful gleam, tilting his head as he inspected the lenses.

“Spencer.” I imagined her call out. A phantom chant met my ears, remembering the softness in her voice and the soothing gravity she carried within her words.

“Spencer, stop it!” Y/N giggled, burying herself deeper into our duvet.

“Why baby?” I murmured into the crease of her neck. “We should just stay like this all day. Maybe if we stay long enough we can morph into a chrysalis.”

“Spencer,” she giggled. “Spence…”

“Spence?” JJ empathized, searching my eyes. She placed a hand on the outside of my arm, lingering there for a comforting moment. Although when she realized her attempts were futile, she retracted her arm with a tight frown on her lips. “I know that-”

“The feed is displaying audio now,” Garcia announced with a wavering tone. I slid past JJ, standing my ground next to Hotch as we listened to the livestream. Whimpers echoed throughout the concrete compound she was trapped in. Her body flinched as the man inched closer to her with an object out of view from the camera. The fear in her eyes left a sharp pang in my chest as a burning resentment ignited my bloodstream.

“Stop…” she whispered, pulling away from the man. “Stop...please,” she sobbed. Her face was contorted in anticipation, glancing down at the item creeping towards her. It was only then a glint of a metal object bounced off of the camera, a foreign substance leaking from its tip.

“Stop! Please!” Y/N’s voice amplified in volume as the inevitable came. “NO!” she screamed, thrashing in her seat as the needle penetrated the soft layer of her skin. “SPENCER! HELP!” she cried out, desperation seeping through her weeps.

A suffocating poison ran its course throughout my body, entrapping me in the limited reality of my abilities. I felt my inner conscious thrash against the walls of my mind, begging for an answer, a solution. I tore my eyes away from the screen, my hand unconsciously clawing at the base of my neck. Staggered breaths blocked my airway, and the room shrank under my feet.

I needed to get out.

I let my feet sweep me away from the office, as far as it takes. My back hit the cold wall of the eerie hallway, feeling the chill penetrate through my blazer. I closed my eyes as I banged on my forehead, hoping that the gears would start working, but nothing seemed to bring me assurance.

Nothing could assure that she’ll be okay. I failed her. I failed to assure her that I was going to keep her safe. I failed at keeping her safe. I failed her.

My heart was pulled against my spine, attached tethers tearing it apart in opposite directions. Contractions of adrenaline seeped into my nervous system as her anguished screams left the room silent behind me. It was like gravity had ceased to exist, leaving me floating in a mind-numbing state of desolation.

I failed her.  

“I’m always going to love you,” I reassured, tucking in a hair behind her ear as she swung her legs back and forth atop of the counter.

“Really Spence?” she giggled, bringing the spoonful of 3:00 am ice cream out of her mouth, dangling the utensil from the bottom of her plump lips.  “Prove it?”

“Darling, isn’t there a tub of ice cream--that I bought--in your hands?” I teased, tapping at my watch. “And last time I checked it’s the middle of the night.”

“Whatever,” she giggled, nudging at my shoulder. My hands traveled to the sides of her hips, pulling myself closer as I inspected the beautiful glow of the moonlight reflecting off of her visage. “I thought you were going to say something cute.”

“That wasn’t cute?”

“Not even close, Spencer Reid,” she mumbled, tapping on the end of my nose before taking my face into the softness in her hands. She playfully scoffed as we inspected each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours. My arms found their way around her waist, melting into her, as I lessened the gap between us.

“What is it?” I whispered, my eyes flickering from her eyes to the pigment on her lips. Closing in proximity, I nudged her into me. But before our lips could meet, a chuckle filled the air and a hand was placed above my chest.

“I...am out of ice cream.” With that, she scurried away to the fridge with a bounce in her step. I shook my head in amusement, whispering to myself.

“That girl’s damn lucky that I love her.”

Frenzied feet inside the office took me out of my daze, but it was the sound of soft steps approaching me that made my shoulders stiffen in anticipation. I collected my composure the best as I can, maintaining a brave face for whoever would walk into the doorframe.

I didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was. The figure’s footsteps halted beside the door frame, leather shoes in my peripheral. Without a moment of quiet, the figure stooped down with its back pressed lightly against the wall. Although despite the thick tension, the figure remained silent.

“You know I don’t always need company…” I murmured defensively.

“I know kid...I know,” Morgan huffed, bringing his hands to his head. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have any.” He knocked his knee into mine, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She’s going to be okay Spencer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that she’s strong,” Morgan countered. “You just gotta believe in tha-”

“Don’t- Don’t give me hope like I’m one of the victims we interview. I’m- I’m not a victim.” I nudged his large hand off of me, feeling confined in the big desolate hallway.

“I wasn’t saying you were-”

“But you implied it!” I combed through my hair, my lungs still sore from staggered breaths. “I’m...I’m sorry,” I sighed.

“I said I’m sorry!” I yelled, feeling my throat dry up from the venom dripping from my words.

“This is the third time, Spence. The THIRD time you came home late,” Y/N seethed.

“Who are you? My mother?”

“All I want is to know that you’re safe, Spencer! God! I wait here all day for you, knowing that you’re out there on the field, and something could happen. How does that make me feel?”

“This is ridiculous,” I shook my head, dismissing her ignorance. I headed towards my jacket that I strung up on the coat hanger a few minutes ago, not bothering to take my keys with me.

“Where...where are you going?” Y/N whispered.

I made the mistake of looking back and seeing the hurt present on her face. The apples of her cheeks were stained with tears, and her eyes were glistening with fresh ones. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, still looking plump and soft even in her distressed state.

“To work,” I monotonously replied, turning away from her. I shuffled out of the apartment with anger dominating every part of me, blinding me to the point where I guess I forgot to lock the door.

“I did this.”

Morgan’s head shot up at the utterance of my words. “What do you mean, kid?”

“I left her by herself...alone,” I scoffed. “We were fighting, and I just left her there. God, I didn’t even lock the door.” I rammed the back of my head against the plaster wall, squeezing my eyes tightly. “How can I be so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hey, stop that!” Morgan intervened, pulling my shoulders off of the wall. “You didn’t know that this was going to happen…”

“Yes, but I should’ve known, Morgan! Don’t you get it!”

“Spenc-”

“I had one job…” I sighed, the inner walls of my chest collapsing into themselves. “God I...I should’ve known.”

My head fell back into the curves of my palms, my tears shamelessly peeking out of the corners of my eyes. My chest heaved reluctantly, as my heart lurched forward. Heat crawled up my cheeks, combining with the coldness of the tears running down my face.

Morgan’s supporting hand felt like a phantom’s upon the skin of my back, knowing that nothing compared to the innocent touch of my Y/N.

-

“What is it, Spence?”

“I promise you that....that I’m always going to keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4​ @linthebinbag​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @ssareidbby​ @kyleetheeditor​ @tclaerh​ @jimilogy​ @lulwaxim @jhillio​ @m3ssytrash​ @haylaansmi​ @meowiemari​ @ashwarren32​ @spencerwaltergubler​

[saltysalmonkid]

when was guillermo turned? also, does he offer vampirism to nandor or does nandor ask for it (another kinda follow up, would guillermo think of it as a curse the way nandor does in s3?)

HELLO IM SO SORRY i dont know why but my phone wasnt showing notifs for my inbox anyway yes yes thoughts i have many of them

I think in this au guillermo was a victim that nadja and laszlo lured in to eat, but then when laszlo oe whoever went to bite him instead of freaking out he got mad excited and they were both like. Huh. And he was like no this is sick ive always wanted to be a vampire. And they were both too disconcerted to be like "actually we were just gg to kill you" so they just turned him for funsies. Im not sure when EXACTLY he was turned but i think its within the last two centuries, hes prolly 150 at most when Nandor finds him. A real baby vamp.

Nandor does ask for vampirism!! Hes a little disappointed its not exactly like in twilight but he's flexible with it. Guillermo is reluctant to turn Nandor but thats more bc of his hangups about the connotations of turning and romance. Like he thinks its reserved for """the one""" or whatever and while he harbors a lot of affection for nandor he doesnt think that nandor reciprocates his feelings and he doesn't want to get hurt when nandor "inevitably leaves" after turning.