People love to say things like “Hiding Anne Frank was illegal, turning her in would have been legal” without like fully grasping the modern implications properly. You have tons of folks like “if WW2 happened today id have __” that do not realize what is happening around them.
We have this idolized AND sanitized version of what happened then, and so we do not recognize it when it happens now.
Resistance fighters assassinated nazis and blew up weapons and infrastructure and destroyed records and forged paperwork and raised secret funds and smuggled people in vehicles and yes, hid them in their homes.
“Well it’s sad he got sent to an ICE camp but he faked his permit :/“
Whoever helped him fake his paperwork did what fighters in ww2 did. People who cut through chain link fences do what fighters in ww2 did, people who blow whistles chasing after ice cars do what fighters in ww2 did, people who destroy arms factories and cop city cranes do what fighters in ww2 did, people unmask agents do what fighters in ww2 did.
People are doing it now! They’ve been doing it now! You keep saying “oh if this happened here__” it HAS! It IS!
the tropification of our vacation
jamil viper x reader
summary: You and Jamil go on a vacation together as friends, and unsurprisingly leave as something more.
author's note: jamil in a hallmark movie except it's not christmas. i put a good amount of tropes in this hence the title, but also tried to subvert them in small ways.
tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff, friends to lovers, childhood friends, 7.7k+ words, not beta read, slight spoilers for the al'ab nariya event
you can also read this on AO3
THAT TROPE WHERE TWO FRIENDS WHO’VE CRUSHED ON EACH OTHER FOR YEARS END UP ON A TRIP WITH JUST THE TWO OF THEM
“I know I’ve already told you this over the phone, but I really can’t get over it. Your sister just comes up to me and demands I buy plane tickets from her because something urgent came up, and that the trip she was supposed to go on is in two weeks and it’s going to be with you .”
“Should I apologize for her?” Jamil asked, a small huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Although… Why does it sound like you don’t want to go on a trip with me?”
“Of course I do. Would I be here if I didn’t?” There was no hesitation with how fast you countered him, even though you must have known he was merely joking. “I don’t just shell out my hard-earned money for anyone.”
So he’s still someone you deem special. Or maybe you were referring to Najma, who you’ve always liked to joke was your favorite Viper. Either way you being here, about to board a plane with him, meant you still enjoyed his presence to a high enough degree.
“It’s a little funny though. We don’t see each other in person for almost half a year, then I come back to Silk City and next thing you know I’m leaving again for a vacation.” Jamil had thought the same as you. When you told him you were back in the city, he had begun making arrangements to ask for a leave of absence to meet up with you again. It seemed that was unnecessary, however, with his sister telling him you would substitute her on their planned sibling vacation.
“But I don’t mind,” you added swiftly, likely anticipating another comment from him, “I’m always happy to be able to take a break.”
It was a statement difficult to debate because he happened to feel the exact same way.
Jamil was never really one for joy, never really thought he could receive it in more than fleeting, bite-sized portions. He simply asked for relaxation, and there he would receive contentment.
And yet, strangely, Jamil found himself feeling unusually giddy despite it all. It would be classified as a rare instance of happiness, all because he got the opportunity to travel with you.
Don’t get him wrong, he would have been just as happy (and certainly feel less unsure of himself) should his sister have not backed out of their trip, but all the same he could not help being in high spirits at getting to have some time alone with you. It was to a point that he dreaded how happy it made him feel, even just the thought of you, knowing once he had you in his head it would be difficult taking you out of it.
Not that he minded too much. Fanciful daydreams revolving around you were much preferable to dwelling on the misfortunes of his past, or the hardships that would aid to the attainment of his ideal future.
“But, you know, Najma…”
What he would like to take out, however, was your need to continuously mention his little sister, as if the two of you had nothing else to talk about. Jamil will actually be driven crazy if you bring her up again and again throughout the rest of the trip. With the way the conversation has been going, was he your childhood friend or not?
“If it has to do with my sister, I probably know it already,” he sighed, already tired of the repetitive conversation. He wanted to catch up with you , and while he held a heavy reluctance in letting you know about his feelings any time soon, he was just going to have to be upfront and nip this particular problem in the nub. “You’re acting as if the two of us haven’t been friends for years. Let’s stop talking about her and talk about something else.”
Not that Jamil knew what exactly something else was, but as long as he got out of that zone, he was willing to go along with whatever conversation topic you wanted.
“Then, do you mean we should talk about us? ” Reflexively, Jamil brought his hand up to tug at his hood, only to realize the turtleneck he was wearing lacked one—and it would be stupid and incredibly obvious what he was attempting to hide had he pulled up the collar instead. “That’s what people typically say after that kind of line, right?”
“How should I know? Do I look like the type to have a romantic bone in my body?” Your immediate answer should have been no. He knew himself just as well as he knew people’s perceptions of him—he was the type who appeared to give little thought about love and such, someone much too focused on their career. His thoughts may beg to differ, but his actions spoke louder. You probably knew that just as well.
"Who knows? Things change when people get older. Maybe you actually decided to give dating a try while I was gone.” You suddenly paused, throwing him a serious look, as if something about the words you spoke had just caught up to you. “Are you seeing anyone? As in, seriously?”
This was not where Jamil thought the conversation was going to go.
“No. I’ve been too busy,” already being in love with you, so it would just be a waste of time trying, “but why do you want to know?”
Was this Jamil trying to find any information that would allow himself to let his feelings grow further, to encourage him to eventually take action to make you his? He supposed he needed to be more certain.
“It would be troublesome,” you began slowly, now more careful with your words than you had been before, “if you had a partner and they found out you were going on a trip. Alone with a friend they have never met before. I don’t want misunderstandings.”
“I don’t like misunderstandings either,” he agreed. Though it was not the most desirable answer, he appreciated your constant consideration for him. Besides, it gave him the opportunity to return the question. “Since you already asked me, let's clear it up completely now. You… are you in a relationship?”
Jamil relaxed his face as much as possible, rendering himself to a neutral state regardless of what your answer would be, but he could not deny the inward relief he had felt when you shook your head no.
“I was also too busy. I had no plans of getting into one when I would return to Silk City.”
Return to Silk City, and return to him.
If Jamil had so much as shown a trace of delight at the revelation, you didn’t point it out, although you did look awfully pleased as you boarded the plane. Jamil didn’t point that out either, knowing you would simply blame your excitement for the trip, knowing he would be a hypocrite mirroring you.
THAT TROPE WHERE TWO GOOD FRIENDS PRETEND TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP
It was inevitable, really, but he had wrongly assumed that people would at least ask before, well, being upfront with their assumptions about him and you.
That had not been the case.
It began at the airport, some time after the plane had landed and everyone scrambled to find their luggage.
An incredibly gaudy, brightly colored bag might be most optimal for situations like this, but Jamil had been more concerned with keeping his belongings safe, so he figured some stickers and his uniform tie from back in college tied to the handle would be distinguishable enough.
It was, but the same couldn’t be said for you. Even though you insisted no one would mistake your bag for theirs, someone had gotten your luggage and took off.
Jamil wasn’t going to start an incident in a foreign country, he probably would have felt more inclined to do so in his homeland, so he was going to run on the assumption this really was a mix-up. For his sanity and yours.
The man had apologized to him, not that Jamil completely bought that it was an accident, before turning to face you once Jamil pointed out that he was apologizing to the wrong person.
“Of course, I’ll apologize to your partner as well.”
That was what started it.
Well, no. People have been teasing him about you for a while—people meaning Najma, who was the only one who had managed to sniff it out (like he would ever tell anyone he had feelings for someone)—but certainly a first in a foreign land of all places. Were people always so quick to assume out here?
Jamil blinked, then quickly shrugged any surprise off. What was the point of correcting a stranger anyway?
“Yes, we’d appreciate that.”
The second must have been only half an hour later, with the two of you deciding to catch a cab on the way to the hotel. The only time he would do so, he told himself, considering how much cheaper it was to ride other forms of public transportation as opposed to taxi cabs, but he was tired, you were tired; he would just have to close his eyes at the amount.
“So where are you and your boyfriend heading off to?” He side-eyed you, wanting to see how you would react to the question, to him getting called your boyfriend. Surprisingly, you responded the same way he would have—not caring to dispute the claim.
“Twisted Hotel, the one along Nocturne Street.”
The driver let out a low whistle. “Not the best, but worth the buck you spend. Should be fine if you plan on spending most of your time outside.”
“Mhmm. No point in going on a vacation just to stay locked up in your room, is there?” Jamil added, a seemingly agreeable statement.
“You got that right. I’ll say, a downright shame to not make the most of the trip…and speaking of,” the man turned his head to face both him and you, a knowing grin present on his face, “let me tell you lovebirds the best places to visit. Real romantic ones, the ones that aren’t tourist traps. Cheaper, too. Got to help the local economy, you know.”
You looked at him, waiting for him to judge the situation. This was either some well-meaning man or a man looking to promote someone he knows happens to own. Or a man looking for a tip. Of course, Jamil’s not stupid, so a quick calculation and conversion would be enough to know a scam at first glance.
“Real good place to eat lunch two streets away from TwisTel. My aunt…” Second option then. Well, not like he couldn’t respect a family business, “... and, of course, couples get free dessert. Authentic , not mass-market. What’d you say?”
Oh. No wonder they were getting promoted to. He’s familiar enough with these kinds of deals—there was a café on his old campus that pulled the occasional buy three, get one for free promo that always caused suckers to come in big groups. Jamil just had to wonder if this would have happened had either one of you denied that you were dating him, or if some other promo would have been thrown your way instead.
“We should probably check-in first, but just tell us the name and we’ll drop by when we get hungry.” Jamil had to smile at that. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had caved in, but it was always better to make your own choices rather than be trapped in one.
Well, even if you said yes, he could always drag you along to make a run for it if it turned out to be a scam.
Sure wouldn’t be the first time.
Just like how it wouldn’t be the first time the two of you got mistaken for a couple, because a couple of times had suddenly increased to a little more than so with the receptionist adding to the mix. To be fair on her end, it was partially his fault. It’s easy to connect unlabeled dots.
“Who knew the Vipers would be so young…”
“We get that a lot,” he said, like a liar. He thought he at least looked his age, but he knew that alone wasn’t what she was referring to. For starters, Najma wasn’t there to fill up the expected Viper ratio. He also didn’t disclose that his sister was his original travel companion, because why would the hotel need to know that?
“It’s such a shame we’re fully booked. I’m sure the two of you would prefer a different room.”
“We’re just glad to have a room in the first place.” Not wishing to talk anymore, it was only about time he’d get asked if they were celebrating some kind of honeymoon or anniversary, he took the keys on the desk and left with his luggage, you in tow.
“That was pretty smooth, you know,” you said, not caring too much in keeping up the pretense now that the two of you were out of earshot. Although it could be argued that neither he nor you did anything to pretend in particular, more so just going along with the circumstances granted. “I’m surprised you didn’t counter anyone though.”
“Well, I went along with it because I don’t want to have to spend more time explaining to people what we really are.” There was also the side piece of information that you’ve secured a place in his heart for years, but that piece of knowledge was better kept away from you. If not forever, then at least until the trip ended. “But what’s your excuse? The taxi driver asked you first.”
“Um, the same thing? Like what you said, what’s the point of telling irrelevant people that we’re actually not together like that but travelling together. It overcomplicates things.” The two of you were on the same page. That was… good.
“But you don’t hate it right?” you suddenly asked, momentarily concerned for him. “If it makes you uncomfortable to be seen as my–”
“I don’t hate it,” Jamil interjected, which might have been the most truthful thing he’s said since getting in that cab. “I don’t like how people assume things about us, but it has nothing to do with you. I don’t feel ashamed of it at all.”
And you needed to know that, lest you find yourself misunderstanding something. Yes he’d rather you not know what he felt about you right now, but he’d also prefer that over you thinking he disliked the idea of being your partner. The truth was the farthest thing from it, really.
Fluster-inducing, but not embarrassing.
“And you? Are you okay with this?” he asked in return. If you said no it would probably hurt more than just his ego, but he would understand. It wouldn’t deter him from enjoying his time with you either way.
“Of course,” you replied, with a peculiar gleam in your eye. It was as though any traces of reluctance and discomfort had been shaken off of your person, in which only excitement remained. “It’s you, so of course I am.”
THAT TROPE WHERE THEY FIND A WAY TO INITIATE NOT-SO PLATONIC PHYSICAL CONTACT
It was cold this time of the year. Not the coldest month, not freezing temperatures, but still cold. Jamil knew this, for it was the exact reason he had chosen to travel here at this time of all times. He could always appreciate not just a change of scenery, but a change in weather as well.
Also, it was extremely hot in the Scalding Sands right now, so he was not experiencing the least bit of weather envy.
Of course Jamil also wasn’t the type of mad man to walk through the snow in one layer of clothing, he knew his body wouldn’t be able to handle it, so he dressed properly for the area.
Not everyone got the memo.
“I’m still mostly dressed properly,” you countered, gesturing to the rest of your attire. Indeed you had a sweater, one a shade of red he thought matched your complexion well, and a coat he remembered haggling the price down for you at the markets.
But where were your gloves?
“Mostly, meaning you still forgot something,” Jamil sighed, watching you stuff your hands down the pockets of your coat for some relief. It didn’t feel right to just grab your hands and check—it wasn’t like the two of you were pretending for anyone right now, not with the two of you just roaming the streets—but they looked cold.
“We even went through the checklist together the night before we left. How’d you forget?”
“I didn’t leave it on purpose . Gloves are small and easy to misplace. I forgot them—either I find them miraculously tucked in some compartment, or I go buy new ones during the trip.” What’s done is done , you were essentially saying, but he was going to disagree. He knew himself, and he knew he would keep glancing down at your hands to check if they were shivering for the rest of the afternoon if he didn’t do something about it.
The logical thing to do would be to find the nearest clothing store, or maybe a stall at some bazaar that sold gloves made with warm fabrics and local designs, but making use of logic was difficult in the face of an opportunity.
Again, not that Jamil was aiming for anything in particular. It was just… an instinctive decision.
“Give me your hand,” he paused, and then reworded it, “Hold out your hand.”
He thought you would question him, and maybe you were doing just that in your head, but you did so without asking him why. Maybe you didn’t ask because you already knew what he was doing, that he would take off one of his gloves and place it atop the palm of your hand, your fingers immediately clasping the knitted material.
He had given it to you for you to wear, but you weren’t doing just that. For what must have been half a minute you merely stared at it, as though you were contemplating its texture, or perhaps its size.
“You don’t have to wear it. If you don’t like how it fits you, you can just hold it between your hands. It should give your hand some semblance of warmth regardless.”
As long as your hands were at least a little warmer, what did it matter if one hand of his had grown colder than the other? He could just make do like you had been moments ago and shove one hand down a pocket, maybe grab a warm beverage to go while the two of you walked the city.
“Jamil? Your hand.”
“Yes?” He looked down at his hand. What about his hand? It was there, it was bare, what of it?
“Make space for me.” And then you put your own hand, the one that was gloveless, into his coat pocket. If the weather was hotter, Jamil was sure he would have combusted, but if it was hotter you wouldn’t be holding his hand. In that regard, he had the cold to thank, and the falling snow to use as an excuse as to why he was pulling on his hood all of a sudden.
You didn’t ask about it, but he had caught you looking and your wordlessness was just as embarrassing, if not more so.
“Walking like this is kind of inconvenient, isn’t it?” It was more statement than question because it was inconvenient, the both of you must have known as much, but neither you nor he untangled their fingers from where they refused to part.
“But at least both of our hands are warm now,” thought he; said you.
THAT TROPE WHERE… WAIT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S MORE THAN ONE BED?
There’s two beds, and Jamil’s not the least bit surprised. He, after all, was the one who made the bookings for the rooms and there was no way he was sleeping in the same bed as his little sister (who he would have roomed with had she not backed out, though he still wondered if Najma had actually set him up).
There was the unfortunate circumstance of the beds being quite small and not-too comfortable looking, twin-sized as they were, but he knew what he was getting into—he chose not to splurge on the hotel for the purpose of using that money for other things.
Besides, they were only in their hotel rooms to sleep so who cared if the thread count was too high and the fabric hardly glided against his skin? The fabric manufactured in the Scalding Sands was simply too good that all else paled by comparison. He just had to make sure to check that the sheets were washed and clean, that there were no pests , and that everything was properly sanitized.
That was, of course, his mindset which, at the time, operated under the assumption that he would be vacationing with his sister, not the person he wanted to impress most.
It was another unfortunate thing—that even if he wanted to, he could not simply get up and purchase a better room, so he would at least make sure you got the better of two beds. It was him hoping that if the activities of the day had not been enough to knock you out like a light, then at least you would have an easier time succumbing to slumber.
Plus, waking with an ache in your back was a pain in the ass and he’d rather you not experience that at any time of the day, especially so early in the morning.
“Jamil, are you sure you want that bed?”
Hardly.
“No, but does it matter? I don’t like either one; I’d much prefer my bed back home,” he said, admittingly holding back to a certain extent about his opinions. Sure he wasn’t the pickiest, could hardly afford to be, but he knew of luxury and enjoyed what he knew. Still, he wasn’t going to start listing off everything wrong with the pillows and blankets, was he now? “But it’s a practical choice.”
“You’re not wrong, it’s just–” you cleared your throat, an action Jamil knew was more forced than needed– “don’t you think you’ll be cold later?”
There was a reason Jamil’s bed was the less desirable of the two. Dingy hotel rooms didn’t exactly have the highest quality of beddings and furniture, that was to be expected as you paid for what you got, but they were also particularly careful with not having the more delicate items prodded at and moved in case they got broken by the customer. Case point: not having control over where the heater was located, or how strong the aircon temperature would be.
Understandable, but it still sucked to be on the receiving end of it. Whatever, he would live.
“I can just get up and put on a jacket if I have to.”
“A second jacket, you mean.”
“What, do you want me to steal your blanket? Because I can very well do that. Maybe the heater is enough for you to stay warm, hmm?”
“Oh, so you did. You did let me have this bed deliberately.”
It would have been better for Jamil’s pride if you had just kept that revelation to yourself. He was sure you had known even before he said anything—he doubted you were so dense as to not realize he did not want the risk of you shivering due to the cold getting colder in the middle of the night—but you had to go and point it out just to have your go at flustering him.
Well it worked, but he wasn’t going to give you any more satisfaction by letting you know. Jamil was just going to wrap himself up in a blanket and pretend he had fallen asleep, like that conversation had not happened.
Like a child keeping their eyes shut for far too long just to be sure their parents would not suspect them of being up past bedtime, he eventually did find himself too worn out to stay awake. It must have been some time past eleven in the evening when he had dozed off, and it was three in the morning when his eyes had opened once more.
The first thing on his mind was that it was freezing.
Contrary to popular belief the Scalding Sands was by no means as hot as hell, not always, and definitely dependent on location. Just as the sun would descend so would the temperature; some areas having more humidity than others.
Oh, and there was that time the temperature in his dorm mysteriously dropped, but the time he spent at his alma mater had always been odd.
Regardless, that, by no means, made Jamil used to the cold. He dressed himself properly and tolerated it, but preparation and mindset could never really combat sensations—he was cold, and he was going to have to escape his blanket and feel colder just to grab the coat he had thrown over the singular chair in the room, then—
“Jamil, did you wake up?”
He wasn’t sure if you simply had troubles sleeping at night or if you had a terrible sleep schedule, maybe he should have asked beforehand, but Jamil had not expected you to be up at this hour.
“Since when have you been awake?” he asked, still not making the move to get out of bed. Socks were hardly enough—he should have worn gloves as well… or a glove, considering you had not returned the one he lent you.
“After you,” you replied quietly, “you were cussing out the cold when I woke up.”
“Oh.” After he thought about it, as much energy as he was willing to spend thinking anyway, it did make sense. He just figured he would have been conscious enough to do it more under his breath. “Sorry I woke you, but you should try to go back to sleep. We have a long day ahead of ourselves.”
Jamil expected a variation of “speak for yourself ” from you, but after some shuffling noises he felt you tugging at his arm, doing as much damage as you could without getting off of the bed.
“Sit beside me for a little bit. Let’s get you warmed up.”
Jamil had no plans of saying no.
“It’s warmer here,” he commented, his shoulder bumping against yours as you wrapped him in the duvet with you. The permeating warmth was familiar, and it was brushing against what of his skin it could reach, soothing him.
Your bed was an infinitely better spot to be in, but he had no particular regrets about his choice, other than perhaps not packing an electric heating pad in his luggage. He was just sorry you had woken up because of him, as per what you implied.
Still, he supposes there’s something about this, about now that he finds himself enjoying. Some hours ago he had been too tired to comprehend anything other than making sure the both of you got some sleep.
Now, however, while still groggy and exhausted, he could appreciate the domesticity of getting to sleep in the same room as you, knowing the two of you would wake up to each other, avail that mediocre complimentary hotel breakfast before actually heading out to get something a little better.
It was not exactly new, having been a concept or idea to him in some daydream, but now it was a fully-realized experience.
It was odd. It was familiar.
He willed himself to stay up a little longer.
“Do you think you’re the type of person who dreams a lot?”
Jamil turned to you in response, shifting just enough to look at you without having his face bump against yours uncomfortably.
“What brought that on?”
“Because I was dreaming before I woke up. I guess it’s just on my mind,” you said with a shrug. It seemed reasonable enough on the surface, but Jamil recognized the question for what it truly was—a thinly veiled excuse.
He would have changed the topic if someone else had asked. Even now, there was a part of him that preferred to take the easy way out, the decision he was used to—something vague to satisfy someone just enough, a taste of something they’ll never fully understand.
But it’s you, and even with all of his reservations he knew, deep down, he wanted you to know and understand him more than you seem to already do. Jamil wants to be understood, wants to be recognized—if not by the world, then let it be the closest thing to it.
“Of course. Don’t most people have a dream at least at one point in their life?” Jamil paused for a moment, before quietly admitting, “For the longest time, dreams were all I really had.”
You neither laugh at him nor immediately attempt to comfort him. An influx of attention still brought him discomfort, but at times like this, or perhaps because it was you handing it to him, it was nice to be listened to. It was as though his thoughts and emotions held importance.
“What do you dream about?”
“Everything.” What had Jamil not dreamed about? Money, power, fame—anything and everything that would allow him control over his own life, to be respected for who he is and who he would become, not for what he could do for someone else. “I’ve dreamt about everything at some point. Having everything. Sometimes I still dream those same dreams.
“Even if I can’t attain something, It’s not bad to dream.”
“It’s never a bad thing to dream,” you agreed. “It is beautiful to dream. People who dream are beautiful. You…” are beautiful for dreaming . It went unsaid, but Jamil heard it anyway, soft and quiet as if you had whispered it in his ear. The thought of you was enough to have him feeling bashful most days, but words gone undeclared had him more flustered than he could typically handle.
“Have any of your dreams come true yet?”
“The simpler ones,” he said, before choosing to correct himself. No, the dream itself was not just simple, but something deeply important to him. “A simple but significant part of a dream I’ve had for the longest time.”
“Travelling,” you said knowingly, “I remember. We used to talk about the different places we’d go to when we got older, basing our decisions off of book illustrations and how pretty the foreign wares they’d sell at the markets were.”
“You would point at the map and mispronounce all the names,” Jamil added, amused at the recollection, “and you talked about them like you were going to visit each and every country in the following weeks.”
“And then I told you I’d bring you and Najma all sorts of souvenirs—only the most colorful food for her, so she wouldn’t have to complain about how plain your food looked anymore. For you, obviously books about the places I would visit, maybe snow globes with the little landmarks in them. And then–”
“–then I told you off for not choosing to bring me along. Why would I want a snow globe when you can see the snow in person instead?” So he said, even though he always liked the novelty of it as a child. Even if the little flakes inside the glass were fake. “And now we’re older, travelling somewhere with real snow, where the landmarks can’t be kept in some glass ball.”
And someone out there had been gracious enough to listen to his complaints. Perhaps you hadn’t dragged him along with you, but the two of you had travelled together yesterday, and later today, and will continue to do so until the two of you headed back home. A wishful childhood fantasy had somehow come true.
“Well, this is only the start. There’s still the rest of the world to get to.”
For a few minutes neither of you said anything more. Maybe you, just like him, were thinking about what the rest of the world really entailed—for you and for him.
“Well,” you began to say, deliberately bumping your shoulder into his. It was as if to let him know you were telling him a joke, “I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself even with you having to look after me.”
That did not sound like a joke to Jamil.
Jamil could leave it at that—a joke, one he could keep rolling. In fact, he was a little tempted to take the easy way out and call you an idiot because you really could be, sometimes.
But you didn’t want misunderstandings; he was going to hold you to that.
“I think it’s been more enjoyable because of you.” It’s not easy for Jamil to admit anything personal. Even in his adulthood laid the underlying fear that someone will cut up his sentences word for word, scrutinize him bare and vulnerable until his soul would be all that was left of him, ready for consumption.
It should be alright, though. You had no claws to tear him apart, to shred him to pieces—with a touch as comforting as yours, he knew any vulnerability would be safe with you.
“You think?”
“I know.”
Jamil woke up back in his bed with his back aching slightly, but strangely feeling warmer than he would have originally anticipated. Realizing he must have slept past the alarm he allowed himself to rest for a few minutes longer, closing his eyes as if to relish whatever warmth was left, before moving to sit up. The action had caused a domino effect—coat after sweater after coat slinking and sinking, creating a pile atop his blanket-covered lap.
No wonder it was a little warmer—you must have piled all of that atop of him after he went back to sleep.
He puts one of them on, one he would belatedly realize was the sweater you had on yesterday, before moving to return the rest back in their respective luggages.
His coat, your coat, his sweater, another of his sweaters, one of your cardigans, his scarf, your–
He had paused midway, picking up woven fabric just to make sure it was not his morning-addled brain creating illusions. It wasn’t, and Jamil hadn’t the capacity to feel remotely upset at being lied to. If anything, he was quite exhilarated by it.
You had a pair of gloves. Not even the least bit hidden, just tucked in some corner so he wouldn’t spot it without taking a closer look.
A part of Jamil wants to wake you—mostly because he wants to spend time with you, to talk to you, but also so he could tease you, that he finally has the upper hand and can finally be the one to fluster you in revenge… but he can’t. He takes one look at you, still sleeping soundly, and knows he’ll let you sleep in a little longer.
“I’ll just open the curtains then,” he murmured to himself, deciding to let the sky choose when to wake you from your slumber.
The stars had gone with the moon, and yet you still remained.
THAT TROPE WHERE FRIENDS BECOME LOVERS
Jamil’s not exactly a romantic, certainly not in the classical sense.
When the two of you ate out he never paid for you, the two of you always splitting the bill or, if it was too much of a hassle, taking turns paying for the other. In shared purchasing decisions he always went for the best deal as opposed to the more grandiose one. Doors were opened by whoever it was closest to, and the thought of calling you a pet name like babe or baby made him want to shrivel up and wither with the weather.
He took you to that restaurant the taxi cab driver recommended instead of somewhere more high class or popular, the convenience of how close it was to the hotel and the premise of the (couple’s) free dessert catching up to the both of you.
It was good, but still.
It would be nice if he could be more romantic, but it’s simply not ingrained in him. Growing up, he hardly had any time to accumulate dating experience, just as he hardly knew of any actual credible media to use as reference—if asked to name a romantic gesture, the first he would name would likely be the old tale of the princess being taken on a magic carpet ride across the desert.
Magic carpets did not exist, thus he did not have a magic carpet. If the tale were even to be true, it would likely be some modern flying contraption like a plane.
He did not have a plane either. He was also not going to bring it up ever, and never in front of Kalim in particular.
So Jamil does his best to, essentially, just be himself and continue getting you involved in the things he had been planning to do on the trip even before he knew you were coming in Najma’s stead.
He introduced you to places he himself had never been, but who needed a tour guide anyway? Certainly not with his previous research and your habit of picking up travel brochures (most of which, thankfully, translated into a language at least one of you could understand). Things ended up working out well, if he were to base it off of how much you’ve smiled around him.
So, no, maybe he has no clue what the most romantic spots are, but he’s trying his best—maybe even more than his best, considering he’s been more conscious about impressing you due to last night (more precisely, early morning).
A part of him knows he doesn’t have to—you know him for who he was and is, the parts of him that always will be, just as he knows you the very same way—but he looked at the sky and wondered, what else could he do for you? How could he possibly turn a good day into a memorable night for the both of you?
It was nighttime again, though the two of you opted out of returning to the hotel early this time around, choosing a secluded spot outdoors for no reason other than to converse under the stars.
There was just something about the night sky that loosened lips and melted walls. In any other circumstance Jamil would be disgruntled with how easy it had been to get him to fall into a wave of comfort, but just for now he would welcome it with open arms. The cold air that hit him didn’t feel as cold as before, even though he was certain the temperature had dropped a degree more.
“I know we talked about this last night, but I don’t think I ever said what I thought—felt,” you huffed, the exhale of your breath visible to the naked eye. It was then realized he might have been too fixated on your face, your mouth, to notice such a thing. He looked away from you just as you chose to look at him. “So… I hope you know I’m happy to be here. This wouldn’t have been as wonderful a trip without you.”
So you felt the same way. Even though it wasn’t a confession, Jamil held on to the feelings your words made him feel tight to his chest, a hope not caged but housed in his heart. He wouldn’t do anything now, not when he was still working his way up to being someone worth offering up to you, but your words—did they give him the patience to wait for the right moment, or did they tempt him to risk it all at once?
“Is that so?”
“Don’t act like you’re surprised—you know so. Why do you have to make sure of what you’re already sure of?”
Because the thrill he receives hearing it straight from your lips is unmatched. Because maybe he isn’t sure, no matter how obvious something may seem; it hurts to be sure and later proven wrong.
“Because I just want to.” His answer was lackluster at best but you took kindly to it.
“Then I’m glad you’re doing more things you want. And saying what you actually want to.” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, and you look glad—genuinely happy for him. Jamil hadn’t put too much thought into it personally, having owed it all to already being comfortable with you, but if he thought about it a little more, wasn’t it just a big a deal that he could actually say all these things to you?
Jamil looks at the sky—properly this time, without using it as a backdrop as he looks at your visage from the corners of his eyes.
You’re glad he could say the things he wanted to say? He’d hardly scratched the surface, so he’ll say even more. His words and his time, that he can at least give you.
“If we’re talking about things we’re glad about… for me, it would be getting to see these sights with you. Even now, the sky and the moon and the stars—all of it is so beautiful, isn’t it?”
The breath you took was loud and shaky, or perhaps it was him honing his senses to focus primarily on you. He could not help himself then, turning back to look at you as you replied—
“It is.”
—and Jamil knows you had not looked away from him since he looked away from you. Not once.
“You’re not looking at the view.” The both of you locked eyes, unwavering, and Jamil, perhaps filled with a newfound resolve, had no plans on being the first to look away. He would wait for as long as you chose to speak up, or hide yourself from his sight.
“Maybe I–” To his disappointment, you chose to look away, but he doesn’t say anything to stop you from doing so—if he were someone else, maybe he would hold your chin and make you look at him once more. It would be hypocritical to call you out, he who always looked away when he found himself unable to handle the pressure of your attention, the words you graced him with. It is with that reasoning that he does not tell you to look at him again. “Right. Sorry.”
But he will call you out for something else.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Jamil tells you. Even if you do not want to look right at him, even if he has to wait for a little while longer for your gaze to reciprocate his, he continues to look at you. He thinks he understands it—the way you looked at him just then.
It is a sentiment he carries now, the thought that the stars themselves were dim in comparison to you.
“I like it when you look at me.”
Jamil recognizes the lines he’s crossing. He’s known his feelings for you for years, that of all the time he’s known you, a good majority was spent adoring you. He knows your own feelings for him too, not as well and not for as long, but enough to know it was similar enough to his own,
“No, it would be more accurate to say I like how you look at me.”
But that was never the problem. The problem was that Jamil could not be content with his life and himself, not when there was still room for him to go up and up and that kind of ambition took tireless nights and time away from himself, from relationships and the people that mattered.
“Because the way you look at me… it shows your feelings, and your feelings make me feel the same things, too.”
He’s had you in his life for years, and for years longer he wants you to be a part of it as something more, but is it okay to drag you along with him? When he’s still unsatisfied with himself, when he wants to be more, for himself and for you?
He decides… that the two of you could always talk about it some other time. He just wants you to know, if in any way you needed to make sure the same way he does.
“I’m in love with you, so look at me if you love me too… please.”
Jamil’s chest heaves not due to the cold but in anticipation, or perhaps the nervousness deep within that he might regret saying anything at all—but the fear, the anxiety, all of it is for naught, for you don’t let more than a few seconds pass before looking at him.
You look at him as if he was capable of creating miracles, as if he was a miracle himself, an existence to be grateful for. Jamil’s never known anyone who could look at him like that, who could make him feel as if he was owed the world for simply existing.
Jamil knew that if he looked a little deeper into your gaze, he would see his own eyes, mirroring that very same expression.
“We don’t have to be in a relationship yet. Not if you don’t want to,” you murmur, taking a step closer to him. That’s another amazing thing about you—you always seem to be able to simply read his mind, that you were someone who actually knew him. “But you should know by now that I won’t mind it when you’re too tired to talk, or too busy to spend a whole day with me, or if it takes you years to get to where you want to be.
“I understand it all, and I’ll be there for as long as you’ll want me. Because I love you.”
Love alone can’t solve problems, that’s not how the world works. He’ll still have to face a rocky path of hardships, the trials and tribulations to achieve his desires, his dreams , but the path no longer seems so daunting—not with you by his side.
“Jamil.” He whispers your name back to you, and when he holds you in his arms he, born from nothing, could imagine what it was like to have everything.
EXTRA:
“Don’t tell your sister, but–” you slipped your hand back into his, even though he very well knew you had a set of gloves all this time, even though he knew you weren’t doing this just to warm yourself– “I’m glad she sold me her ticket.”
“I had no plans of telling her in the first place.”
For different reasons, likely. Jamil knew his sister wouldn’t be mad, but if she was at least half as good at scheming as he was then she would be more than just delighted at the turn out of his and your vacation. If she saw him holding your hand right now she might have pretended to be disgusted at the sight of her brother and dear friend dating, but he would know, deep down, she would be the smuggest one of them all.
“Besides,” Jamil added, pressing his forehead against yours, the cold puffs of air intermingling between the two of you, “I don’t kiss and tell.”
The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 7: I don't need reminders on how you don't feel the same
Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech
Chapter 7 preview:
“Look I want Jade to stop being all—” (Name) waved their hands in vague motions and shrugged.
“—Jade-like with me. And you want Aspen to be happy while at NRC, and we’ve just established what—or who—will make him happy!”
Azul’s eyes widened in understanding. A horrified understanding.
Oh no. No, no, no, no!
“I see where you’re going with this and—”
“Com’ on Azul!”
“NO!”
[wc} - 8,092
[notes] - tehe. Azul's POV an a flashback to switch it up. ik it's been a hot sec but i'm happy to hear yall's thoughts with the change to lmk what you think! Also for the tag list, some of the users might be outdated as I'm unable to add you, please feel free to send in another request to my form if you need to update your name for the tag list!
Chapter 7: I don't need reminders on how you don't feel the same
Azul remembered very clearly when it was announced that the Prefect not only had magic, but that (Name) was also stuck here in Twisted Wonderland for the rest of their days.
It’d been the one of the last official housewarden meetings of the year, mostly to prepare for graduation for the dorm’s seniors.
Azul sat in the mirror chamber in his usual spot, though Malleus’s chair was finally filled for once. The fae seemed pleased that Crowley had remembered to invite him, even if it was one of the last meetings.
What had been most surprising, however, was the 8th chair pulled between the prince and Riddle, which had contained the Ramshackle Prefect.
Said Prefect looked rather nervous, rubbing their temples every so often, as if they had a headache that wouldn’t go away.
“The Headmage is running late, again.” Riddle grumbled, who checked Idia's name off the list as the elusive man sat in his spot between Riddle and Vil. “As are you, Idia. I’ll allow it once, since you decided to come in person this time.”
“You say ‘this time’ like we’ll be having another meeting. I won’t be housewarden-ing after this year, thank the gods.” muttering the last bit of his sentence, Idia rolled his eyes and sat down, immediately fiddling with his sleeves.
“So relieved, are you not sad that we’ll no longer be on campus with your dear friends, Shroud?”
Since one of his horns had broken, Malleus seemed more expressive, even going so far as to tease his classmates.
It unnerved Azul and the others back then.
“I doubt it.” Jamil was sitting in Kalim’s usual spot, which was another unusual change to the housewarden meeting. The small coins in his braid made a small jiggling noise as he shifted in his seat, looking down anxiously at his phone.
He’s most likely waiting for some text on some sort of ruckus from Kalim, I’m sure. I do wonder why he’s in Kalim’s place, most likely he wouldn’t say if asked.
“Trey mentioned that you guys leave for internships for your senior year,” the Prefect looked up and leaned over to ask Malleus, “Does that mean we won’t have our late night rendezvous anymore?”
“Y-your what?!” Riddle had coughed, choking on his water as he made the most grievous decision to stay hydrated.
Azul raised a brow at the two. It certainly would’ve been helpful to know that the two were close.
Dammit! If only I’d known, oh the shame! I could’ve built a repertoire with Malleus and extended my network into Briar Valley! Doing so with Silver wasn’t really working out like I’d hoped.
A small shiver, like someone grazed the back of his neck with their finger, fell down Azul’s back, for some reason drawing him to the Prefect’s gaze.
The Prefect’s eyes flitted over to him, slightly wrinkling their nose at him, as if they could tell what he was thinking before furrowing their brows and darting over to a visibly disgusted Leona.
Ah well, I suppose I can still make this work.
Vil chuckled, “My, how scandalous! I didn’t realize how close you too were.”
Visibly confused, the Prefect and Malleus shared a look and both asked, “Scandalous? Gargoyle seeing?”
“Ah, that would make more sense.” Vil looked a bit disappointed, but for different reasons.
“Now your casualness with him at the SDC makes more sense.” Jamil’s neutral face gave way to a slight smile. “Still can’t believe you actually managed that.
The Prefect giggled, leaning over to nudge Malleus.
“Well I didn’t exactly care or know about the royalty here. He’s just my mysterious tall friend that haunts my dorm in the middle of the night, right Hornton?”
Several of them choked at hearing the nickname leave their mouth. Azul could feel the ink threatening to shoot from his throat, while Leona looked close to losing his mind at the hilarity of such a childish nickname. Idia and Riddle side-eyed Malleus for a less than desirable reaction.
Jamil and Vil didn’t seem too surprised at the name though. Azul noted, clearing his throat of ink and phlegm.
“Oh! We should meet at your club again before you leave! You haven’t shown me all the gargoyles you carved yet!”
“Of course, I believe Silver and Sebek offered to take over the graduation preparations for Lilia and myself, so I will have plenty of free time.”
The Prefect and Malleus leaned in close, talking with small smiles as the Mirror Chamber doors slammed open.
“I regret to inform you, but none of you will have any sort of free time these next few weeks, graduation or not!”
Crowley dramatically entered the room, his coat swishing as he turned to close and lock the chamber doors shut. Once the doors were secured, he turned back around to face the 8 students, his eyes meeting the Prefect’s, who immediately made an unimpressed face.
“Normally, this last meeting would be to review what is needed for the graduation ceremony,” Crowley continued to speak as he stalked around the table, “as well as discuss housewarden transitions for the juniors, however—”
The headmage stopped behind the Prefect, who shifted uncomfortably at everyone’s eyes on them.
“—due to certain…events that each and every one of you played a significant role in, a very blotty one, let’s say…”
Each one of them stiffen at the headmage’s comment. Malleus in particular, glanced at the Prefect briefly before looking away in what Azul could only assume was shame.
“…we will now have to also organize the official commencement of Night Raven College’s 8th dorm, and the official acknowledgement of our transdimensional student!”
Various sounds of confusion and concern left the housewardens around the table. Leona in particular looked annoyed at the prospect of more work.
“What does our overblots have to do with the herbivore and their rickety dorm?” he yawned, ears flickering. “Ain’t they going home anyways?”
“No, actually! You all made that quite impossible!”
A pause. Everyone, minus the Prefect who looked rather tired, stared at the headmage as they processed his words.
“…I’m sorry, could you elaborate, headmage?” Riddle’s face was slowly turning red at Crowley’s accusation. “How is it that we are at fault? Is it not your job to find the Prefect a way home? You’ve been taking an awfully long time doing so, haven’t you?”
Azul covered his mouth, hiding his smirk. He was rather amused at how Crowley’s feathers puffed up like his namesake. He opened his mouth to explain, before the bird was interrupted by Idia.
“Yeah, and IDK why it's our bad they got all nosy and decided to butt into our biz.” Idia replied snarkily, any nerves now out the door. “They didn't have to be all up in any of our blots—”
“Well, I’m not sure you can say that.” Jamil piped up, returning Idia’s deadpan stare with his own.
“You did take Grim.”
“IDK man, didn’t you take them both hostage?” Idia replied, the tips of his fiery hair turning orange ever so slowly.
“Sounds like a skill issue LMAO!”
Vil scoffed, “Don’t deflect Idia, take some responsibility for your actions at S.T.Y.X.”
“You almost poisoned them Vil,” Riddle snarked, glowering at the now irritated celebrity, “I hardly think you’re one to talk—”
“If I recall, you almost beheaded them, Riddle, yes?” Azul couldn’t help himself. Seeing such a bright ruby red in the deep depths of the Northern Sea was a rare sight.
He did understand why Floyd loved seeing the red as the hot-tempered student’s face and neck flushed a deep crimson.
“W-why, you—well I’m hardly the worst here!” Riddle sputtered before getting up from his seat and pointing an accusatory finger in his direction.
“You almost made them homeless just so you could try and open another cafe,” he directed his ire at Leona, who was attempting (and failing) to ignore the discord. “You almost disintegrated them into dust because they caught you cheating during the spelldrive tournament.”
Caught up in his rant, inhibitions and common sense out the window, Riddle then jabbed a finger in Malleus’s direction.
“And you,” Malleus raised a brow at the younger housewarden. “Threw a tantrum because you weren’t invited to a party of all things, you put us all to sleep! The entire island! You invaded our dreams, you almost killed the entire student body—”
A booming roar of thunder interrupted Riddle mid-rant, as Malleus’s face darkened as he glowered at Riddle. He and the others flinched, Azul glancing out the window to see if a storm was forming. Thankfully, Malleus’s magic, as powerful as it still was, had been far diminished without two full horns.
Though, it seemed that Malleus was less concerned with Riddle’s outburst as he was with a shuddering Prefect.
Reaching over, Malleus’s expression softened as he gently rubbed the Prefect’s head affectionately, who was currently hunched over, clutching at their head in pain. The room quieted down as the housewardens, even the apathetic lion, looked at the magicless human in worry.
Riddle visibly shrank and hesitantly leaned down to look at the Prefect, a soft apology leaving his lips as he pressed the back of his hand to the human’s forehead.
Ah, Riddle is rather fond of the Prefect, isn’t he? They do look close to puking though.
“…are you alright, Child of Man?” Malleus murmured, barely loud enough for Azul and the others to make out.
The Prefect curled into their chair facing Riddle, murmuring about the coolness of his hand as they pressed it harder against their forehead.
“'m fine just…talk softer. I can hear everyone…’n everything, I can feel so much, ‘n everyone—youse all so loud…” they whined, while Crowley cleared his throat, attention back on him.
“As I was trying to explain before you all became so…excited, you all have made it quite impossible for the Prefect to go home because, well to put it bluntly, the magicless Prefect is no longer magicless because of you!”
Immediately, there was a loud cry of confusion as everyone, besides Malleus and Riddle who were still comforting the Prefect, started to bombard Crowley with questions.
“No way, that’s like, totally main character energy!” Idia gasped, leaning over to stare at the Prefect in fascination.
Jamil reached over Malleus to try and make eye contact with the Prefect. “No kidding—wait does that mean you can cast any spell that we can? Seriously?!”
“That doesn’t make any sense, you can’t just suddenly know magic!” Vil looked at the Prefect with disbelief.
Leona gestured his head at Azul. “Not unless you’re octopunk and his contracts—”
“—I am quite talented outside the skills I’d gained from my contracts, which may I remind you,” he sneered, wrinkling his nose at Leona, “you oh so delightfully destroyed.”
Leona rolled his eyes, but before he could retort, Riddle interrupted, “Wait, how did we do this? And why is this preventing them from going home?”
Crowley clapped his hands rather delightedly as he explained, “Well, it seems that our dear Prefect was indeed magicless, however…”
“I’m like a sponge.” They finished his sentence, gently pushing Riddle and Malleus’s hands away as they mouthed a ‘thank you’.
“Yes! Essentially, they came from a world with no magic whatsoever, leaving their soul colorless, void of magic.” Crowley continued, beaming ear to ear.
“This left them to be like a vessel for any exorbitant excess magic to enter their soul and add its color onto them!”
The Prefect nodded in agreement. “Yea, you guys are like dry watercolors, the overblots like a wet paint brush, and I was the ‘lucky’ blank canvas!”
Looking rather satisfied with themselves, they leaned over to mutter to Malleus, “See, I told you, I’m real good with metaphors.”
Why does he like them again?
Another poke to the back of his head, but he looked up instead of behind. Azul and the Prefect suddenly made eye contact, to which they squinted at him in offense. For what he had no clue.
I suppose that explains why Jamil is here instead of Kalim.
“I still don’t see why this would prevent them from going home.” Vil questioned the headmage, holding his hand to his chin in thought. “After all, just utter the name of their home and step through the Dark Mirror.”
“Unfortunately, not for the spell I would’ve needed to cast.” Crowley shifted on his feet as he explained, “The mirror would have to read their soul again, match its specific aura to their world, and then would be able to access their home.”
And if they’ve been absorbing our magic through their soul…
“My soul no longer matches my home. The mirror would have no way to find it.” The Prefect answered wistfully, looking down at the table as their eyes became shiny and their voice cracked. “We… already tried a while ago.”
Azul heard the others murmur amongst themselves, surprised perhaps that they actually would’ve left.
“But the mirror just kept shifting between your guys’ homes. It didn’t help that Grim caused…such a mess too.”
The group shivered at the memory of the chimera and the destruction that followed its wait. None of them, no one really, ever thought the cute, small gray creature could be capable of such destruction.
They weren’t sure what to expect after he ate all their blotstones, but it seemed that Malleus’s blot stone was the catalyst.
“You’re not much different from Grim then, are you?” Azul spoke up, drawing everyone’s gazes.
“You’re like a chimera of all our magic, does that not cause you distress? I can’t imagine the sudden influx of magic from no magic is doing your health well?”
They nodded, pausing to rub their temples again.
“Mmm, yeah. Lot’s of headaches…and sounds.”
Sounds?
“And colors, and smells, and this and that and it’s honestly awful.”
The Prefect took to curling in their chair once again, opting to rest their head against the frame.
Azul could hear the others mumbling to themselves, confused like he was about what you were talking about.
Malleus again leaned down, brushing their hair from their face and whispering something to them. The Prefect shook their head, and waved at Crowley.
“Can you tell them? It hurts.”
Crowley gave the Prefect a pitying look, titling his head curiously.
“Of course, I am ever so kind.”
If he heard the snort from Idia, Crowley ignored it.
“From what has been gathered from investigations done by myself and S.T.Y.X., our dear Prefect’s ability to absorb the excess magic produced during your overblots, and little Grim’s consumption of the blot stone after, assisted in your successful recovery from said overblots.”
Crowley slowly began making his way to the Prefect, the sound of his cane ominously ringing through the room and into Azul’s ears.
“If they were not there to act as a ‘sponge’, then you would have rapidly succumbed to your condition, leaving naught but your bodies and rampaging beast of strife and blot. Thus, their soul is no longer just theirs, but now intertwined with all of your own.”
With a final ‘clink’ of his staff on the ground, Crowley stood behind the Prefect, the lights of the green scones on the wall giving the fae an ominous glow. His golden claws reached over their seat, gesturing to the Prefect with open palms.
“They can no longer return home because of you. They have become but a canvas painted with the colors of your souls, colors that refuse to blend together. They have become a chimera of your making, intentional or not. The Prefect of the Ramshackle House, has become a beast, and has become your responsibility.”
Azul hadn’t been happy to hear that back then. While Azul didn’t dislike you per se, he wasn’t thrilled to hear that he had to now care for you as if you were his hatchling. He was less thrilled when Crowley explained that they would all have to spend a good month at S.T.Y.X. not only under further monitoring and tests, but also teaching you all the basics of magic that most of them had been learning for all their life.
Though, as much as he hated to admit it, he did become rather fond of you after the ‘camp’ as Crowley called it. Like a barnacle on the side of a ship, you’d grown on him.
And, well, he supposed that he didn’t mind the other seven as much anymore.
Still, with all that Crowley had spouted about responsibility, the bastard hadn’t even thought to tell them the very crucial detail about your apparent psychic abilities.
And, well Azul thinks that he has a right to feel this way after everything that happened, but Azul was a bit hurt that you didn’t feel inclined to share the news with him.
Rude. Speaking of rude…
The silence was, ironically, the loudest thing in the room.
Both were waiting for the other to start, Azul staring at the Prefect as they took interest in the bookshelves in front of them.
“Now (Name), be an adult and look me in the eye. We have rather important matters to discuss.”
You don’t have any excuse either, I know you can hear me.
Their lips thinned, as they snuck a peek up and met narrowed, light blue eyes. Azul raised a brow, tapping his foot against the floor as he huffed in annoyance.
“(Name).”
“Azul.”
“Ah, they speak! And here I thought you’d become mute.”
They wrinkled their nose and sighed, finally turning their head to face Azul in defeat.
“Lemme alone, I’m just…gathering my thoughts!”
Gather your excuses more like it…
Azul cringed, hand rubbing against his temple as he glared at (Name). The prodding he felt randomly suddenly made sense.
“Ugh, it does feel weird having you poke around in my head, now it’s like I can’t stop feeling it.”
“It’s not like I can help it…I didn’t even know you guys could feel me.” Slouching in their seat, the Prefect shared a tired look with Azul. “I’m always talking to Ace, Deuce, and Grim through their heads, and they’ve never mentioned anything.”
Azul snorted, finally relaxing his shoulders, and he shrugged his coat off and over the back of his chair.
“Well, I’m not surprised, as resourceful as the three of them can be, they aren’t the smartest.” An image of the three with the anemones on their head flashed through his mind. “I know from first-hand experience, you know?”
The corner of (Name’s) lips curled up in amusement as Azul felt another tickle to the back of his head. Well, at least they’d found amusement in his schemes now.
“Yeah, still, it’s weird. I feel more…I don’t know, sensitive? More fragile? When we were all together, it was like static was filling my head.”
(Name) looked down at their hands, tracing the inside of their palm with their thumb.
“I swear, I could taste colors, I could see sound. I mean, it was like my feelings weren’t even mine they were—”
Shutting up mouth mid-sentence, (Name) sighed and gave Azul a weary look.
“It wasn’t like this before, it’s gotten worse the longer I have this—” They waved a hand around their head and shrugged. “Magic, the more I have to worry about. It’s not fair, Azul. I didn’t ask for this, you know…”
Looking up, Azul knew now that they felt the wave of guilt at the flash of shame, before he promptly tried shaking it off into one of sympathy.
“I know, I’d offer to take the burden off your hand, but I’m afraid that the use of ‘It’s A Deal’ would cause more trouble amongst the others for the both of us.”
Azul pursed his lips and hummed, “Though, I could imagine the numerous benefits to such a power, the knowledge to be gained, the people under your thumb, it’s endless really…”
(Name) rolled your eyes and scoffed, making Azul smirk.
“Oh hush now, are you surprised with me, really?”
“No, not really, though I’m surprised you haven’t gotten to the elephant in the room.” Azul furrowed his brows in confusion, as they glanced up with a tilt of their head. “You know what that means, right—”
“Yes, yes. I think so…” You humans and your weird sayings.
Azul clenched his fist and gave them another glare as he felt something like a breath blowing on the back of his neck.
“The ‘elephant’ being our mutual friend, yes?”
He couldn’t help it this time as a sudden feeling of nervousness washed over him as he thought about coral hair and green eyes.
“Yes, friend is a bit of a stretch though, isn’t it?”
“Hmm, I suppose so, the way he speaks of you isn’t necessarily…friendly.” Azul sighed, rolling his eyes.
(Name) let out a humorless laugh, clicking their tongue. “Yep, I know exactly just what he thinks, no surprise to you, huh? To be honest, it’s a bit much, dealing with it every day.”
“Quite frankly, I’m getting tired of how often he brings you up. He talks about you as often as one would a significant other.”
“I mean, not surprising coming from him.” (Name) paused at Azul’s confusion, hesitantly continuing, “Well, based on his thoughts, it makes sense that some of them probably get out to you…”
Both remained silent for a moment.
His thoughts? What kind of thoughts is he…?
Azul didn’t even care about the weird tickles this time, as he watched (Name’s) cheeks turn dark and look away again as they giggled nervously.
“Ha…trust me, you don’t want to know, Azul. He gets very detailed, too detailed. Explicit is the best way to—”
“HE WHAT?!”
Jumping from the sudden shout, (Name) watched as Azul stood abruptly and started scrambling over, making them yelp and crawl backwards on the couch as he approached.
“Explicit? EXPLICIT?! You’re mistaken, yes?” Azul let out an incredulous laugh as he rambled. “There’s no way he remotely thinks of you that way, it’s preposterous!”
An offended scoff left (Name’s) mouth, though they seemed embarrassed, curled into the corner of the couch with Azul hovering over them.
“It’s not that ridiculous, from the sounds of it you should be more than familiar of what Jade thinks of me—”
“Jade? Oh, Jade!” A sigh of relief left Azul as he settled down on the couch next to them, giving (Name) an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, my dear, I believe we have a misunderstanding.”
He gave an amused look and smirked. “You have Jade in mind? I’m not surprised, I know of course, but I was speaking about someone else.”
Letting out an ‘oh’ sound, (Name) relaxed back into their seat, but now as confused as Azul was moments before.
“Well, who else would I be talking about?”
“My brother, of course.”
Another bit of silence between he and (Name) awkwardly drew out as they stared at Azul, perplexed.
“Brother?”
“W-w—yes, my brother. Surely you know…”
Several memories ran through his mind. All of a green-skinned, skinny octopan. Light pink hair, green eyes, and an unmistakable glare, one he’s sure (Name’s) become familiar with in the last couple of weeks.
“ASPEN!” It was Azul’s turn to jump as they shouted, jumping on their knees and practically shoving their nose against Azul’s in revelation. “ASPEN IS YOUR—Oooooooh!”
Slowly, (Name) sunk back into the couch, mouth agape as Azul stared in amusement.
“Oh, it makes so much sense! That’s why he knew about the summer—and the—and with Jade—oooh…”
Seriously? Did it take you until now to realize?
“Hey! I had suspicions!” They huffed, narrowing their eyes at Azul who just raised a brow and scoffed.
“I didn’t say anything.” The corner of his lips quirked in amusement though. “I thought you weren’t trying to listen in?”
“I’m not! You’re right next to me! I can’t help it!”
(Name) threw their arms up in exasperation, slumping until half of their body was laying on the floor. Pouting, (Name) looked up at Azul, who was giving them a curious look.
Peculiar. “So, you really can’t control it then?” Seems like quite the hassle.
“It is.” Azul gave them a side eye as they shrugged and continued. “A hassle. Trust me, anything useful that could’ve come from this is nulled by the fact that I can’t filter anything out.”
“No? I suppose that would explain why you fell ill so quickly earlier.” The both of you cringed again as the memory of you on the floor filled your heads. “Perhaps you need something to control the telepathy, like my contracts?”
Perhaps it would negate some of the side effects like his contracts did for him.
(Name) hummed at the idea, eyes darting over to the door, as if someone was there.
Although…
“It did take me quite some time to develop them, enchanting something like a contract isn’t necessarily difficult, but ensuring the terms apply correctly and as intended is.”
(Name) nodded along, though still focused on the door rather than him.
“That’s also your thing.”
“It is also my thing.” Azul eyed them still half on the floor before gently smacking their side with his cane. “You should sit up right, you’ll just make yourself sore laying like that.”
(Name) stuck their tongue out at Azul, making him roll his eyes, though they complied. Opting to stand and stretch, pacing around the room.
Are you alright?
Simply nodding in response, they suddenly shook their head, eyes darting back to the door as Azul could faintly hear the sounds of students walking down the hallway.
So then, if we wanted to, we could have full conversations like this?
“Eh, kinda?” (Name) waved their hand in an iffy motion, pursing their lips as they explained. “Grim, Ace, and Deuce all kinda do, but it’s hard to respond when other people are around.”
“Sounds right, none of them are exactly subtle, are they?”
A snort left his friend’s mouth, covering their grin as they nodded.
“Ace can be, but when all three of them get together, it’s like all their brain cells collectively die.”
“Funny that you’re not including yourself there.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know I am competent like—” (Name) waved their hand flippantly. “—90 percent of the time.”
That still leaves 10 percent.
They clicked their tongue and huffed, shuddering as a rather loud group of students passed again.
Rubbing their temples, they sat next to Azul, making him raise a brow.
Prefect?
He reached a hand out, hovering over their forehead as he hesitantly pressed his palm against them.
“Riddle and Malleus have both done this for you before, it helped, yes?”
The corner of their lip lifted as (Name) nodded against his hand. “Yeah, a spell actually. Ice magic on their palm. Make it feel like there’s an icepack.”
Azul nodded in understanding, bringing his hand back to cast a spell with his cane against his palm. It was easy, as he thought about the feeling of icy waters of his home against his skin. He pressed the palm back against his friend’s forehead as they sighed in relief.
“Thanks…better not owe you for this though.”
A soft chuckle left Azul’s lips as he rolled his eyes, though the thought of using (Name) to clear out one of the storerooms crossed his mind.
“No, no. This is me taking my part in caring for you.” My dear chimera.
Azul shivered again from a tingle in the back of his head as (Name) wrinkled their nose at Azul.
“Don’t call me that. And why do you want me to clean a storeroom filled with flowers? Why do you have a bunch of flowers?”
Sucking air through his teeth, the octomer, responded, “My apologies, I don’t mean it in a belittling way, and that…is a story for a mutual friend of ours to share.”
He didn’t need to feel the ghosting of (Name’s) mind prodding into his own to know that they knew who he was talking about.
“And I wouldn’t, not for something as little as this” Not to you anyways, someone else is another story. “I do think the others would be cross with me if I put you to work too often.”
(Name) nodded in understanding, seeming more relaxed than earlier before, though they occasionally darted their eyes back to the door.
You must be able to tell when even the quietest person walks by.
“I will say, more of your behavior as of late has been explained. I was surprised to hear how alert you’ve been since the year’s started. I assumed it was either due to last year’s experience, or the stress of suddenly taking on students in the dorm.”
It isn’t because of that, yes? My brother hasn’t been causing you too much strife I hope?
A hum left their mouth, as they finally pushed his hand away, leaning against the arm of the couch.
“Nah. He’s been fine, though don’t expect me to come working shifts in the cafe anytime soon. Even though I could use the extra cash, it would get too overwhelming.”
“Yes, I imagine so. Though, I would enjoy having you work a few shifts again.”
With Jade especially, perhaps it would—
“No. Nope.” (Name) shook their head and made an ‘x’ with their hands. “I already deal with him too much for class. And I think your brother would actually start planning my murder if he found out that me and Jade were spending all that time together.”
Azul clicked his tongue as he crossed his legs tapping his finger against his knee.
“You know you could take a bit of responsibility for turning my vice into a lovesick fool. Because of him, suddenly I had to account for budgeting fair food for your haunted house.”
(Name) scoffed, eyeing at Azul as they huffed.
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. Jade’s the one who came up with that on the spot. Which, by the way, made Aspen and Wynfred way more intense lately.”
A sigh left his mouth as he pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, I’m aware. Besides the whole student body gossiping and laughing at the poor soul who dared to request a date from his senior, I’ve had to deal with Jade complaining about how much of a pest the both of them had been.”
if Jade wasn’t good at his job, I’d start taking matters into my own hands
He watched as (Name) frowned, asking, “What does that mean?”
Azul paused, lacing his hands together as he pondered his next words carefully.
“Well, originally, I was considering allowing Jade to take over all of the Halloween sales. He’s been asking to do so anyways so that he’d have as much one on one time with you. Though knowing what I know now…”
Tilting his head, Azul ‘innocently’ batted his eyelashes at a tense (Name) as he cooed.
“I think I’d just let him know about your little ‘gift’, maybe it would make him, as you humans say: ‘man up’ and confess if he knew that you already were aware of his feelings.”
Azul waved off the mix of anger and concern you were giving him, sputtering over words as he continued.
“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t, it wouldn’t be good for business if I had a depressed, rejected eelmer moping around the dorm. I already have to deal with Floyd and his moods over R—ah.”
Stopping himself mid sentence, Azul gave them a sly smile, poking (Name’s) nose as they glowered at him.
“Don’t be so sour, and don’t mind that last part. As much as I would like to win my little bet, it would do more harm than good if I were to intervene at this time.”
The crabby expression left their face as (Name) let out a soft, questioning noise.
“Bet?”
Azul nodded, explaining with a flourish of his hand.
“Yes, you see the twins and I made a bet over the summer, due to how desperately they’ve been pining after their loved ones, and how annoying they’ve been over it. We each betted on whether or not they’d succeed in obtaining their mates by the end of the year. Whoever does so first, gets awarded the betting pool. It grows by 100 thaumarks for each week they don’t succeed.”
(Name) nodded, glancing down in confusion before looking back up at Azul with thinned lips.
“And who did you bet on?”
“Oh! I bet that both will end up remaining miserably single at the end of the year! So far my win has been remarkably assured! They’re both utterly pathetic!”
Azul couldn’t help himself, despite their disapproving look, laughing at the thought.
“And knowing about your ability, I am absolutely positive that Jade will lose. And the rate Floyd is going, so will he!”
(Name) shook their head, sighing as they paused and gave Azul a confused glance.
“Wait, who is Floyd trying to—”
“Ah ah ah! Do try to let me keep some things to myself.”
“Oh come on, I’m probably gonna find out eventually! You were thinking of the color red, that only leaves like a handful of people, so—”
“Cheeky, aren’t you? You can find out on your own. Organically.”
Azul felt a familiar, ticklish chill as he proceeded to hum an old song from home in his head. Smirking as (Name) stared at him in intense focus, Azul mockingly rocked his head to the beat, finally breaking out into a grin as they huffed and pouted.
“You get the hang of things too quick. At least let me have some fun with it.”
Pretending to ponder, Azul hummed to himself before uttering a single, “No.”
(Name) rolled their eyes, opting to halfheartedly kick Azul’s knees, barely making him shake.
“Whatever, I’m sure I’ll find out from Aspen soon, he’s always talking shit in his head to Floyd after his shifts. Really likes to compare him to Jade, he said something about being a bad courter or something.”
Ah, yes. The root of this original conversation.
“About my brother…”
Nodding, (Name) paused and tapped a finger to their chin in curiosity.
“Yeah, about him. Aren’t you guys different species? Jade called him a little squid once. Is he like a half-brother?”
Nosy, nosy, nosy!
Azul chided them in his head, making them stick their tongue out as he scrunched his face at them.
“Ugh, childish. And no, stepbrothers technically, but we’ve been together since we were barely older than hatchlings, so it makes no difference to us.”
“Really?”
Azul raised a brow, though he had a suspicion that the doubt in their voice came from a place of reason.
“Am I to assume that Aspen doesn’t hold fond thoughts of me then?”
Maybe it was his own nerves that made (Name) pause, head turned to the door slightly once again.
“I can read minds, doesn’t mean I understand them all the time. He’s not super nice most of the time, but calls you Zully a lot, if that means anything.”
Azul blinked in surprise, embarrassingly pleased at the thought of his baby brother perhaps still holding a bit of fondness for him.
“He’s also actively wishing me pain and death every time he spots Jade with me, so I kinda assume that maybe he’s just built like that.”
“Ah. Yes, that sounds like him. Ugh and don’t remind me about him and Jade.”
Azul tapped his fingers against his knee again, watching as (Name) got up, holding a hand up as they stalked closer to the door.
“What in the seven sea’s names are you doing?”
“I thought I…I don’t know…”
A frazzled look fell on (Name’s) face as they slowly walked back to Azul. Though they remained standing, eyes darting back every few seconds.
Should I be concerned?
“Do you…hear someone?”
“I’m not sure…but back to the topic at hand.” (Name) looked back at Azul and crossed their arms. “You’re worried about Aspen, right? What about? You know I’m not gonna do anything to him.”
“Well, yes. Before the whole mind-reading business, I was sure that despite his icy demeanor, you’d stubbornly persist in being polite at the very least.” Azul scoffed, remembering the way his brother would get particularly mouthy at him when Aspen decided to speak with him.
“But I know him. I may not have your gift, but I know he’s trying to cause some sort of trouble for you. And my mother made me promise her that I’d help keep him out of trouble, so spill it. What is he up to?”
Azul rested an elbow on the back of the couch, leaning his cheek against his palm as he watched them sigh.
“I mean, yeah he’s a bit much sometimes. He’s the whole reason I have to figure out how to deal with Wynfred now.”
“You can just tell him no. No need to please everyone you meet.”
(Name) pouted, clicking their tongue.
“It’s not just that! Being rejected by your crush sucks! It’s a whole different kind of humiliation, I just want to put him down gently.”
Leona’s right. You’re much too soft.
“It’s not just that!” They scoffed, frowning as they said, “Guys being pushed by Aspen, and I understand that too. You don’t get to see or hear what I do.”
Azul made a noise of confusion, until it shifted into one of disgust at their next words.
“The way Aspen looks each time Jade, only for him to barely even look at him. He sees Jade talking to me, and, I don’t know—” (Name) paused, biting their lips as they pondered their next words. “It’s sad. It seems like he’s been pining for a while, never getting the attention he wants.”
(Name) went silent, seemingly lost in their thoughts.
“Yes, we’ve already established your frustratingly endearing tenderness to others.” Azul waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the way (Name) growled. “And don’t remind me of his infatuation with Jade of all people.”
“But that's the whole reason he’s so rude to me!” (Name) argued, pausing again as their eyes darted back to the door again. “I’ll be honest, I’m a little frustrated. I get why he doesn’t like me—”
They paused, shuddering again as they shook their head.
“—But it’s not like I asked for any of…Jade to happen. I’d be just as happy as he would be if Jade was focused on him instead of me.”
They made a vague gesture before sighing and flopping into the couch arm. (Name) looked up and stared at the ceiling, as Azul gave them a sympathetic pat to their knee.
“That’s understandable, I’d be more than happy to assist in that regard…though you’d have to sign a contract with me.”
Azul chuckled as (Name) tossed their pillow at him shielding himself with his hands. He watched as they shot a hand up into the air, and with a flourish, presented him with a middle-finger.
“Is that answer satisfactory?”
“Mm, rather vulgar, but I suppose it will do.” Letting out a mocking sigh, Azul patted their legs as they decided to stretch out over his lap. “I loathe being in such a predicament. Our dear Jade and Aspen are both just so troublesome, aren’t they?”
“Puh-lease, you don’t even know half of what Jade’s been thinking.”
Azul raised a hand up, a disgusted look on his face as he shuddered.
“Don’t. Don’t even tell me. I’ve known the twins long enough to know that I don’t want any knowledge on what goes on in their heads.”
He watched (Name) grumble under their breath, going quiet and then smacking their hands to their face as he watched their cheeks and neck flush.
“Hmm, yes. Judging from that expression, I would definitely like to remain unaware for once.”
(Name) could only respond back in strangled mumbles and whines.
“If only there was a way to…how do you humans say it?” The stone birds? Birds on the stone?
“Kill two birds with one stone?”
Yes! I suppose having you hear my thoughts isn’t necessarily a downside.
“Hehe, yeah, it’s too bad we can’t…” (Name) trailed off, making Azul give them a funny look, as their eyes grew wide in realization.
“—IT’S PERFECT!” Azul let out a high-pitched yelp as they bolted up with a grin on their face. “AZUL! I know how to fix our problems!”
“Oh? Do tell?”
“Look I want Jade to stop being all—” (Name) waved their hands in vague motions and shrugged.
“—Jade-like with me. And you want Aspen to be happy while at NRC, and we’ve just established what—or who—will make him happy!”
Azul’s eyes widened in understanding. A horrified understanding.
Oh no. No, no, no, no!
“I see where you’re going with this and—”
“Com’ on Azul!”
“—absolutely not.”
“—it’ll be easy—”
“Don’t care! Suffer!”
“Azul!”
“NO!”
“Yes—”
Eerily, and like a statue, (Name) went still, eyes narrowing as they slowly turned to the door again. He’s sure that if they hadn’t been so focused on whatever was happening on the other side of the door, they’d be in an upset in how much they currently reminded him of Jade in the moment.
Their steps didn’t make a sound as they carefully treaded to the door, hands folded behind their back as they tilted their head.
Azul watched, using his cane to get up when he suddenly heard the doors fly open and the thump of a body hit the ground.
“ACK!”
“Hello Aspen.” (Name) hummed out staring down at the sprawled man on the ground, the ends of their lips gave a slight smile. “I thought I felt someone out here for a while—HEY!”
His brother has always been much faster than Azul ever was. More athletic overall, honestly. Which is why Aspen was able to nearly propel himself up and out the room in a blur of grays and lilacs.
Rolling his eyes, Azul trailed as (Name) chased after, shouting out for the fleeing to come back, snorting as he heard the thump and groans of Aspen, then two scuffling.
“Get off! I heard all about you and your mind-reading, you witch!”
“No! You don’t understand—”
“I understand plenty! Playing with his feelings like that—”
“I’m doing nothing like—stop moving! I’m your damn housewarden—”
“Then fucking act like one! And get your hands off me!”
Azul strolled into the hallway, covering his mouth as he watched the comical scene of the two wrestling and rolling on the hallway floor. (Name’s) hand reached out to yank at the scarf wrapped around Aspen’s neck, while the latter pulled at their hair making them yelp.
“You two are going to hurt—oh!” Azul jumped back as (Name) was suddenly kicked away towards Azul’s feet, Aspen scrambling up and dashing down the hallway. “Aspen, can you please—(Name)!
They chased after, body colliding against Aspen’s as the two took another tumble to the ground.
Honestly, these two.
Azul shook his head as he followed after, watching as (Name) groaned, the other taking the opportunity to turn them and pin them to the ground by their shoulders.
“Ow! Hey, get off!” (Name) and Aspen’s head collided as the former forced their way to sitting up, a loud, thick ‘thunk’ echoing.
“OW!”
“FUCK!”
Seeing the red on (Name’s) lips and Aspen rubbing his chin, Azul rushed over, noticing the shadows coming from the turn of the hallway, covering the pair.
“Ah. Is this why you haven't returned to me yet, Child of Man?”
Malleus?
Azul watched as he was almost at the corner, seeing the way (Name) and Aspen both looked up and froze, turning brilliant shades of purple and red respectively. As he turned to follow their gaze, the sudden silence from both made more sense.
The entryway to the rest of the lounge was crowded, a small group of staff and students peeking through to watch the commotion that (Name) and Aspen had caused with their tussle. Jade, Malleus, and Grim at the former’s feet, fuzzy face messy and covered in crumbs.
“Hello Malleus. Jade, is there a reason you’re bringing him to my office?”
Jade was always good at masking his emotions when it was required. Ever since he was a child, Jade would ensure that he’d approach any and all situations with the correct tack.
It was as unnerving as it was rare when he failed to do so, eyes boring down at the two on the ground, wide and mouth ever so slightly agape.
Aspen bristled, as if just suddenly realizing that him straddling (Name) down and clutching at them left quite the impression.
“JADE! You—it’s not—we—I—Prefect say something!”
Aspen was practically glowing from how deep his blush was, the color growing to his ears as one of the prying students let out a wolfish whistle.
“Oooooh, what’s Pinky doin’ on top of a housewar—”
Said student, and the rest of the crowd quickly dispersed, when Jade whipped his head around, though with what face Azul wasn’t sure. Whatever expression he had scared them off well enough.
Malleus seemed amused, based on the look he was giving the eelmer, glancing down at the two with a smirk.
“Here I came, requesting to be brought to my human,” Jade turned back, face back into a calm, polite facade as his golden eye seemed to glower at Malleus. “To see what is keeping you from me, and I see you entangled with this one.”
Aspen squeaked as Malleus’s eye darted to him, narrowing as the fae held his hand up as he hummed.
“Should I be concerned? Does my human require my aid?”
If Malleus noticed the way Jade clenched his fists, ever so slightly squinting at him, he gave no mind.
“NO! It’s nothing Mr. Draconia sir!” Aspen was scrambling off and away as Malleus approached the pair, though he caused (Name) to groan in pain as his hand jabbed into their side. “I’m going now! Very soRRY—”
Azul was quick to snatch the back of Aspen’s collar, pulling him in close, like a cat with her kitten scruffed.
“I don’t think so. I think a discussion is needed between you, myself, and (Name). Now.”
The last thing we need is for him to start spreading word about you (Name).
(Name) perked up, though their eyes kept darting back to Jade, whose gaze was now focused on them, now soft as Jade reached down to offer a hand.
“I do believe that they require first aid before any discussions, allow me to—”
“I’m fine! Hornton can help me, he’s been teaching me spells so…”
Azul covered his mouth to hide his smirk, as poor (Name) scrambled back to their feet, he could practically see the steam coming out of their ears as they tripped over themselves. They end up reaching for Jade’s hand to steady themselves, glancing up at him with a soft smile before taking their hand back and looking to Malleus instead.
“You should probably come too. He, um, heard about the thing.”
(Name) tapped their head, making Malleus nod in understanding.
“I see, of course. Are you coming beastie, or will you continue to gorge on your feast back at the table?”
Grim had taken to latching onto (Name’s) legs, tail whipping back and forth as he glared as Aspen, squirming in Azul’s firm hold.
“I’m coming! Can’t leave my henchhuman alone for one sec, or rude freshies get all handsy!”
The three followed Azul and a squirming Aspen, though he paused to turn, eyeing Jade as he followed the group with a small smile.
“I appreciate the attentiveness Jade, as always, but this will be a private meeting for the four—”
Grim huffed, making Azul roll his eyes.
“The five of us. It’s a delicate matter, you understand?”
Though he didn’t need (Name’s) telepathy to know what Jade was thinking, the way they scrunched their face told him all he needed to know.
“Are you sure Azul? I am happy to prepare some refreshments, especially since we have Prince Malleus,” If said prince noticed the ever so subtle disdain in the way Jade said his name, he cared not. “And such a visitor should be tended to.”
“I’m sure Jade. Just focus on the lounge, I’ll call if you’re needed.”
Jade nodded, eyes flitting to (Name) for a moment before he turned towards the cafe. Though, he looked back over his shoulder for a moment.
Azul decided not to point out to his friend that they did the same as Jade left.
The setting that prevents your work being used to train AI models is turned off by default! I had no idea about this until now! Artists, go to your settings, click “visibility”, and turn on this setting! Protect your work!
Hey someone suggested I use ChatGPT to figure out adulting today, and as I was going through the mental list of places I'd rather look, I realized "beloved strangers on Tumblr dot net" was on that list.
So if you have an aspect of adulting that you're really good at-taxes, budgeting, cooking, insurance, credit, time management, house upkeep, anything-please feel free to reblog with any tips.
That's us! Professional internet adults, specializing in financial stuff! We recommend starting with our Grand List of All Articles, or one of our Masterposts:
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need To Know About Taxes
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about How to Increase Your Income
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Retirement and How to Retire
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Credit and Credit Cards
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Investing for Beginners
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need To Know About Living Independently for the First Time
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Repairing Our Busted-Ass World
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Getting a Job, Raise, or Promotion
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal
Things you can watch/do instead of YouTube, For those who may have trouble finding things to do.
1. Internet Archive. Has plenty of videos to watch, plenty of games you can play that are emulated right on the website. You can also find entire collections of roms. For emulators, check out Emulation General Wiki to find the best emulator for the system you want to emulate.
2. r/piracy has a wiki full of safe places to read comics and manga, to watch anime and cartoons, and to watch movies.
3. Virtualbox, you can set up a Windows XP virtual box and get old PC games from Internet Archive. You can also check out CD Game World if you need a no-cd patch.
4. Saltybet. A Livestream of MUGEN with thousands of characters fighting against each other, sometimes things get hilarious. Runs 24/7.
5. The Cutting Room Floor, spend hours reading up on cut content from your favorite games.
6. Lost Media Wiki, read up on lost movie, books, animation, video games, etc.
7. Neocities, learn coding and make your own website!
8. WebDSR, explore shortband radio
9. Radio Garden, listen to radio stations from around the world
10. Every Noise At Once, explore the widest archive of music genres, with samples and Spotify playlists
11. My Retro TV, pick and era and watch popular television from that time period
i feel like the knowledge that there are some medical databases with free-to-use 3D scans of various human organs available for 3D printing would have drastically reduced tumblrs amount of bone stealing scandals. plus you can make ones that glow in the dark.
Scans can also be found by searching on general-purpose 3D sites like Thingiverse, Cults3D, MakerWorld, Sketchfab
The glow in the dark filament I used
If you don’t have a 3D printer, check the website of your local library to see if they do! If you’re in college, your university’s libraries could have one too! They’ll likely have info on how to submit a print to their services and how/where you could find them.
Forgotten Prophecy, of old magic and unfulfilled destiny 👑🪨
Long after the last monarch was slain, and their golden blood wiped from the flagstones, we can still hear the echoes of their voices. Burrowed deep into the stones and the dirt, their magic is stubborn, outliving its parents. Like a parasite, writhing under the skin, ripping it out can only do more harm than good.
Pull the sword from the stone, or, kinda scrape the stone bits from the sword I guess
Yesterday’s sword!
You can support me on Patreon for £1 and help me make stuff like this!
My fiancee and I were discussing the worst metal to use to make armor, and the obvious answers are lead and gold, but she cunningly suggested mercury. Which is a fair point, but then I wondered if solid mercury is any good. Googling told me that the melting point of mercury is -38° c (-37° f), so first you get it really fucking cold. At that point, it turns out that mercury has a tensile strength of 1900 mpa, compared to lead’s 18 and steel’s ~500-940 (depending upon the kind of steel).
Now, I know that tensile strength is not necessarily the best measure of a material’s ability to function as armor, but I’m a liberal arts major and didn’t care to actually do that much more research before going straight to, “EVIL ICE DEMONS IN MERCURY ARMOR. THE PCS CAN’T LOOT IT BECAUSE WHEN THEY PUT IT ON IT MELTS AND KILLS THEM.”
Ice Demons wielding weapons made of frozen mercury. Spearheads that break off & melt inside the target. Swords that leave tiny bits of melted mercury inside the wound (the swords re-freeze to razor sharpness while in the ice demon’s claws).
Item: blades, spears, and/or arrowheads made of mercury frozen by Ice Magic; can only be used by one with Ice Magic, but deliver whatever damage the weapon type would normally make plus equal amounts of Cold and 1d8 Poison. Once the wound has been delivered, it continues to deliver 1d8 Poison until the mercury has been removed by healing magic, Wish, &c.
Apparently I’ve seen this before? But this EXACTLY matches the description of the Morgul blade in LOTR? It felt like “a dart of poisoned ice” (or something like that), it left a piece in Frodo’s shoulder that slowly poisoned him, and the blade melted away when Aragorn looked at it. And Glorfindel warned them all to handle it as little as possible, too!
here is the full open access article from the researchers! one big takeaway for me is that almost every mummy we've found from the Pazyryk culture has had these intricate tattoos (although these are a particularly beautiful example.) the older the person, the more tattoos they tend to have. so this was a widespread cultural practice, not just one rad grandma! highly recommend giving the article a read - there's a ton of really neat details about how the researchers (including a modern tattoo artist) analyzed the art styles and techniques (relatively similar to modern stick and poke, but with a multi-pointed implement for all but the smallest details)
The absence of overlapping images or compositions in the corpus of preserved examples suggests that the construction of tattooed bodies in Pazyryk culture was approached in a structured and deliberate manner throughout an individual’s lifetime. This implies both planning and intentionality in tattoo placement and design. The confirmed use of multiple tools and stylistic variations on a single body also reveals that tattooing in Pazyryk culture was associated with a high degree of craft specialisation and was probably performed by multiple individuals. In this regard, the collaboration between modern tattooists and archaeological researchers has been invaluable in not only illuminating the techniques used by ancient tattooists but also in fostering a deeper appreciation for their artistry and skills, enriching our understanding of past societies and their intricate relationship with body modification.
the whole thing just kind of made me emotional about the great continuity of artistry across space and time. humans love to change our bodies and we put time and effort into making those changes meaningful and beautiful to us! a modern tattoo artist was instrumental in helping understand what some of the finer marks might signify about methods and practice!
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
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