#i am meant to serve and be Used. which neither things are happening so i feel useless. etc. etc.

[euclydya]

having normal thoughts about myself again

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general, that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so.

45 70 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...

General reasons:

*Tech is never seen actually dying.

*Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate.

*The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself.

*CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy

*Height change on starwars.com

*The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees

*the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest

*the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf

*The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion AND CX-2 is shown looking up and to the side the way the original CF99 members are positioned and facing in their poster as if CX-2 is also a CF99 member

*other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing as well as casual viewers

*the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes

*misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived"

*Tech being smart enough to find a solution

*If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well

*no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath

*the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "Plan 99" in it

*Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee

*All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee

*The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee *CX-2 could have killed all of them at different moments, but chose not to (shooting pilot instead of Hunter for example)

Physical and character similarities:

*the shrimp posture

*the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1

*the similar hand to hand combat style

*the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99

*the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers

*the animated head and body when speaking

*the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle

*the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often

*the pouches(!!!)

*the limberness and agility

*the confident capability

*the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher!

*the deviant nature – ignoring orders

*the technology know how

*the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn

*the extraness of tool/weapon twirl

*armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria

*CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria

*Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria

*We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee

*Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee

The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to convince anyone...):

'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE."

"The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive."

"Who are you?" - "Who are you?"

"Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah."

"DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."

Cinematic framing similarities:

*the limping

*the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo

*hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car

*the boulder moving

*helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that

Conjectural situations of suspicion:

*the beef with Crosshair

*the constant surviving

*the pausing when choking Crosshair

*the pausing to look at Phee

*The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee

*“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee

*Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee

*CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee

*Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee

*The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee

*Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee

Foreshadowing lines:

*More machine than man, percentage wise at least.

*Better late than dead.

*See you around, Brown Eyes.

*Tech's not gone.

*The operative's gone rogue.

*Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him.

*Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee

Abandoned storyline reasons:

*The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡

*CX-2's death being anticlimactic

*The finale seeming rushed and incomplete

*Actors saying there were script changes

*CX-2's accent in the finale was not only not like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change

@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda !

@heyclickadee gave a great analysis here and also great evidence, more in comments!

@vivaislenska has a list as well with some of these points!

@eriexplosion has a great analysis here!

Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him:

*Too many characters coming back from the dead.

*The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent.

*Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on."

As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, I don't know. At least they could have made CX-2 talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was kind of cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I am not personally attacking the writers, I still love Season 1 and 2 and most of Season 3, but I wish I knew what happened behind the scenes with this and I know I'm not the only one. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜

And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include it and tag you. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it.

(In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)

[quixtrix]

rayman, eden's feel good american dream story; an analysis

guess who's back with taking ubisoft's silly guys and cutting them open. yknow, if you strip rayman of his personality, of all the behind the scenes we get of him, we get a run of the mill news reporter that is an immigrant, who by face alone serves as a shining ray of hope. he's easily something that by all means, can be classified as a diversity hire. immigrant, nonhuman (which in the world of clh can be considered to be equated with poc irl), and notably the only one in his work environment. don't believe me?

we rarely ever see anyone other than rayman on the show in the form of a coworker. the only time we do see other eden affiliated people, they are both white. "but you can't see red's face!!" there is a reason his dialogue makes you think of more right leaning people with their claims of 'wokeness is destroying everything' under something like april from tmnt being black and not ginger. he's a caricature meant to represent a specific group of people under fascism; those who have successfully consumed the fearmongering and have let it turn from fear of those that they are told are beneath them into hatred for them. there is also the fact that on live tv he throws up a middle finger, refers to an implied group of immigrant people as 'filthy interdimensional alien scum,' and seemingly gains no backlash for it. yes, the other reporter does try to give red a chance to go back on his words, but he sticks to it. and despite all of this, we get no indication that neither red nor the niji 6 had to apologise or received punishment for this. in fact, red is possibly given more chances by eden due to him being weirdly in charge of bullfrog's containment in a way? (i'm not entirely sure WHY he was there, but as he is one of eden's tv personalities, he's at a possibly televised trial of a terrorist.) now if you compare this to rayman, who also acted inappropriately on tv by literally saying fuck, you'd come to realise that rayman was treated so much more harshly. he was IMMEDIATELY replaced by a clone of himself, with no warning nor any indication that eden would do such a thing. it's very likely this was one of, if not the first time that rayman has slipped up like this on live tv. maybe it's a repeat offence considering his personality, but then you could argue that red is a repeat offender of the same shit and then you have to wonder why a soldier like red was not easily replaced but someone who is the literal face and voice of eden was with ease. it's because rayman made himself more than jus a story, he humanised himself by showing a peek of his raw feelings. remember that cute little exposition of the rayman kids show about hybrids? where we see all of these hybrids working as society's grunts and the kids are told to be thankful for hybrids? it's very sweet and gives a good message! now the rayman kids show is a product of eden propaganda, but rayman very much has a hand in it, most likely as a writer. he uses his platform to speak on issues that has happened and affected him. this can be seen in his biopic.

jus sit with this image for a moment. you ever think about why rayman is specifically made as an alien? why he's specifically an immigrant? in real life news reports and speeches, there is a difference in implications when people use immigrants and not aliens. you wanna know why?

as someone apart of an immigrant family myself, i live in a community of other immigrants. majority of them are hispanic, and while i myself am not hispanic, i am very aware of how hispanic immigrants were referred to and treated by politicians under trump's presidency. how couldn't i? even as children in middle school and elementary, we had discussions about what trump was saying because it directly targets my friends and their families. they are people targeted by a man who specifically uses derogatory terms to dehumanise them, to make it easier to justify in the average american mind that the government is doing the right thing by keeping out and protecting america from these so-called 'invading animals.' makes what red was saying earlier feel very on the nose, right? adi shankar, the showrunner for captain laserhawk, is also an immigrant man. immigrated from india, which by the way, did you know has a lot of people immigrating for the purpose of having a better life? that's a common sentiment that can be found in every single immigrant family's story. i've asked my filipino mother why she took an opportunity to live and work in america, and she told me it's because she wanted to give her children a better life than what we would have had in the philippines. hell, i bet if you share a similar background to me, you can ask your own parents the same thing and get the exact same answer, regardless if you came from latin america or africa, or asia. it's because of the concept of the american dream. everyone who has ever engaged with any degree of immigrant discussion has heard of the american dream. it's a concept that seems to be consistently proven via word of mouth, with the biggest examples being celebrities. they will always, without fail, eventually speak about the american dream within their backstories. and typically, they will use their platforms to further empower others within their community. it's why people from specific ethnicities tend to group together, why people make art meant as something akin to a homage to their people. it provides hope to the masses, makes you relate to the person on the screen, and believe that this society is truly a gracious one by providing opportunity. because yeah, it may be bad, but it could be worse. i mean we appreciate you! just look!

dont mind the fact that the majority of opportunities allotted to you is grunt work, the work where you at the base of the pyramid, with the harder jobs and the jobs no one wants to do. dont mind the fact you will be actively dehumanised, forced to work for hours in conditions we wouldn't put anyone else in, but hey. we appreciate you. we thank you. and yknow, you can become more than what you are. yknow, we let someone just like you be more than what you are! nevermind the fact that if they slip up, they'll be met with MUCH harsher criticism in comparison to someone who isn't you! aren't we so gracious? i probably sound a bit like matpat's insane out of context real world examples, but this show is filled with political imagery, so let me be. anyways, let's get back to eden and rayman. rayman, despite being specifically from dimension x as an alien, keeps hybrids in mind when he's doing his work.

people of colour tend to share solidarity with one another due to the fact that surface wise, we share similar struggles. to grossly oversimplify things, we all face discrimination through our appearances and are oppressed by the rules of a society created by our white oppressors. again, hybrids and dimension x immigrants can be equated to irl poc, and despite being different from each other, there is still community. rayman keeps them in mind, hoping to make things better for the overall nonhuman and nonnative (native as in naturally born) population of eden. but, rayman is not what he believes he is. because despite everything he has worked for, despite what he has tried to do, he is still a facilitator of the fascist regime that has an active hand in the perpetual oppression of his own people. one of the core concepts within fascism is us versus them. it's an easy way to instill fear (which is very much needed in fascism to make it easier to lie to the masses) and it's used in multiple layers, beginning with a large group (ex. us versus ussr, capitalism vs communism), then progressively sizing down (ex. saying all eastern europeans are communist, then going smaller and say all those affiliated with eastern europeans are communist) with the goal being to put people against each other and break up community since if you put your minds together, you'll start to realise that the fascist system is bullshit. what i've personally come to find is that in order to hide the fact that there is fascism lurking is that someone that can be considered a 'them,' an other, will be given a seat at the table. it's so they can be used as an excuse, a human shield, when they inevitably slip up and can be paraded to the masses as proof that the other is not as smart or powerful as 'us.' the 'other' within the 'us' is used as something to look down at, while also justifying to oneself that they have a place, that they are not being oppressed. they have an opportunity as much as anyone else! so long as they don't mess up. rayman messes up, and is shunned from 'us.' hes a mistake, impure, clearly not like 'us,' 'us' who had been so gracious to give this 'other' a place. he's cut out and discarded because he has well worn his purpose, and clearly, they can just get another little puppet. they'll dress him up and make him worthy of being one of 'us,' and make sure that this one won't fall to the fault of his little ideas. which is exactly what leads to rayman's transformation of ramon. being forcibly forced out and discarded by eden because he showed his true ideas makes him realise that there was no real place for him within the system. because what good is his work if it leads to what he tried not to create? it's worthless, just as the system it attempts to thrive in is.

tl;dr, rayman is a representation of the american dream, specifically celebrities. he tries to do what he can with his platform, but the fact is that within a fascist system, his impact is not entirely felt in the way he wants it to. that is why he becomes ramon.

anyways if you reached the end of THIS LONG ASS PIECE GOOD LORD thank you!! always open to discuss this and take criticism, my ask box is open in the lil 'who's asking' :^]

[favvn]

maybe i'll develop my thoughts better someday when i am not exhaustion made into a person but what the fuck was a private little war.

i get the obvious vietnam war metaphor, but between the complete reversal of a situation like season one's a taste of armageddon (which i realize is not a cut and dry ethics episode for kirk given his reasons for getting involved and the risks involved in what he chooses for the planets involved) and all the damn misogyny (of course the lone female character on the planet, nona, is evil. but she can't possibly kill anyone with either her knife or mccoy's phaser, no she's all talk and zero planning outside of seduction. to say nothing of the klingon krell and the villager apella talking about how "it's hard to divide one woman" and "give her to the man who killed the most of her people" which like. realism in tv and how women and children are forever impacted by the same wars they do not fight in aside, what purpose did it serve to the episode's storyline overall? if the episode can make nona so blatantly evil with the most unsubtle costume design, what did those lines do to help the story? are the klingons not enough of a one-dimensional villain?), what was the purpose of that ending and even the entire set-up? kirk went there seemingly without the intent to get involved, yet he gets brainwashed to become a pawn, only for him to seemingly act like himself by the end and justify an arms race with no discernable end, ignoring the fact that both sides would keep improving their weapons, ignoring what it would mean outside of the planet neural and the ramifications beyond (unless fighting the klingons is "standing orders")

KIRK: Is it? She wants superior weapons. That's the one thing neither side can have. Bones. Bones, the normal development of this planet was the status quo between the hill people and the villagers. The Klingons changed that with the flintlocks. If this planet is to develop the way it should, we must equalize both sides again.

MCCOY: Jim, that means you're condemning this whole planet to a war that may never end. It could go on for year after year, massacre after massacre.

KIRK: All right, Doctor! All right. Say I'm wrong. Say I'm drugged. Say the woman drugged me. What is your sober, sensible solution to all this?

MCCOY: I don't have a solution. But furnishing them firearms is certainly not the answer.

KIRK: Bones, do you remember the twentieth century brush wars on the Asian continent? Two giant powers involved, much like the Klingons and ourselves. Neither side felt could pull out.

MCCOY: Yes, I remember. It went on bloody year after bloody year.

KIRK: What would you have suggested, that one side arm its friends with an overpowering weapon? Mankind would never have lived to travel space if they had. No. The only solution is what happened back then. Balance of power.

MCCOY: And if the Klingons give their side even more?

KIRK: Then we arm our side with exactly that much more. A balance of power. The trickiest, most difficult, dirtiest game of them all, but the only one that preserves both sides.

like. i get that the ending is meant to be shocking and be commentary on america's involvement in vietnam and especially of the war itself, regardless of the countries involved in it (two outsiders keep supplying more and more weapons to "balance power" but it's about ideology for the outsiders and a war is easiest if you don't have to fight it yourself) but to do that to kirk? of all characters? tarsus iv "the revolution was a success / your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony" survivor jim kirk? the same kirk who feared escalating tensions with the romulans? "we may be killers but we won't kill today"? the same kirk who stopped bones from saving edith keeler to prevent the creation of a fascist future? "change is the inevitable course of the future. the (terran) empire will fail." that kirk? there was no other way to write this but to use kirk?

yes the unflinching commentary on vietnam in 1967 is, in fact, a good thing. i'm not angry about that. my issue is to use kirk like this after writing him like they did in season one? to take that characterization and smash it? to *really* hammer home the point that no one is immune to causing harm regardless of intention, especially kirk? when that's been part of his character since the pilot episode?

[transenbyconfessions]

Alright. So, I'm trans. Obviously.

And, as is the case for many people, my birth mother happens to be a piece of shit.

As in, you would not believe the kinds of things this woman has put me through while wearing a smile on her face. In hindsight, it is kind of a miracle I have yet to cut contact with her completely, which to be honest I probably should.

With the necessary context in mind, I assume it also wouldn't surprise you to hear my coming out did not went well. But it was either this or dying before I ever reached twenty, so here we are. Literal years down the line. Surviving each day here by virtue of being myself, my eroding force of will serving as a shield against all efforts made to the contrary by somebody who was supposedly meant to guard and protect me. Who has failed spectacularly at both to the point I am long used to doing that by myself.

The point being that — the above being the case — I have numerous times now been dragged into debating the merits pertaining to the right I hold to my own existence with somebody who, against all odds and my own better judgement, I do still care about kind of a lot. Or at least enough to be able to ignore the fact that it is definitely in my best interest to just never talk to her again. Cut my loses and run and simply pray I make it.

It is, understandably, really fucking awful to have to say to somebody — anybody — again and again why you are the gender that you say you are. To be made to prove, constantly without fail, that you deserve to be alive and defy what a stupid symbol in a stupid paper says that you are. To be made aware that certain people expect this of you, again and again, will never stop expecting that of you. To put it mildly: it's stressful like you wouldn't believe.

And yesterday, in the midst of a terrifying debate that I neither initiated nor wanted to have, while standing in the wrong kind of neighborhood to be overheard — well I believe I may have hit upon the way to explain exactly how that feels. Just about.

It starts a little like this:

Imagine you're trapped on a podium, always behind the red curtain. Waiting for the thin fabric to leave the stage open and let in the blinding light of the reflectors you can instinctively tell are on. And there is a kitten (a baby, a puppy…) sitting right there beside you in a bloody metal cage.

And if you stutter or hesitate, or the person on the other side arbitrarily gets to decide that you're wrong — then the cage will collapse in on itself, and the kitten will die.

No do-overs. No retry. You're just thrust out into the light, behind this mangled frail piece of wood with a too small cage that won't open why won't it open, and told you have to defend your side.

Or the kitten will die.

Can't anybody see it from this angle? Don't they hear it meowing? Do they just not care?!

And here you stand, spiraling, when you notice something strange. Not about the multitude, but about the fancy podium on the other side of the stage.

(Something other than the fact whoever's behind it has already started talking. Given the same person who threw you to the sharks up here has already handed them a script.)

There's a cage there too, shiny and clean and brand new. Visibly resting well above it instead of behind. Except this one is made of cardboard, its surface all covered in aluminum, and you can clearly see from here that the insides are empty.

They preach to the people in the multitude about the sanctity of this cardboard cage. Attack and accuse you of wanting to kill the kitten, placing it within its own prison in the first place, whenever you try to point out that it exists and it is there. Whenever they acknowledge it and deign to pretend to believe you. Even though they're standing up here too. They should have a clear view.

Thus comes your turn to talk. Except it has actually been your turn, from the moment this whole mess started. But now the other party seems to have run out of words to monopolize it with, and only you are left to fill the silence.

You glace down at the kitten. Tiny family member, fondly remembered, beloved pet that it is. And you care.

The crowd grows impatient. Your opponent's throat clears. This is important to you.

You breathe. And you open your mouth. And every sentence you say only adds fuel to the fire consuming the curtain.

Every sincere confession of confusion or pain mere evidence used against you. Any small hint of righteous fury that you can't disguise taken as an offense. Every impassioned defense taken as an attack.

They won't hear you. Won't accept anything that you say. No one will let you leave.

And even if you could, you would still leave alone.

(There are some, you are certain, who attended only to see the kitten crushed.)

In the midst of this immovable crowd are people you care about too. People you know. Calling you a liar and a killer and a fraud. Calling you worse, for every minute more you risk to stay.

But you cannot step down, because you care.

(Even if you were to win, there's still no guarantee they won't just collapse the cage in front of you anyway. Whether out of hatred and pettiness, mere cruelty, or something else. But if you do nothing the kitten will die, and you have to try, you have to try…!)

So you take a deep breath, and go on, and hope this once someone will listen.

…And that's how I felt.

Basically.

Anyway, I almost never post or submit anything. But I am making an exception for this one because I think it's something that needs to be said. It isn't mine anymore, make of it what you will.

Submitted May 30, 2023

[donnerpartyofone]

A really basic and obvious problem with the algorithmic targeting of "your interests" is the idea that everything you click on is actually relevant to your interests. The assumption that everything I do online is something I meant to do with full information, and that I am always satisfied by, is completely absurd. The internet is a place that is full of misinformation and misdirection and ambiguity and it is also a place that constantly inflames morbid curiosity--which is not always a driver of consumer activity. This is like assuming that if I unwitting click on something that links to Lemon Party, it must be because I have a vested interest in gay gerontophilic pornography, and it will be financially productive for companies to serve me erotic content featuring elderly men for the rest of my life.

My immediate reason for thinking about this is a lot more boring, but still: When I'm looking for jobs on Indeed, I start with a simple set of delimiters--let's say the job description should include "writer" and the location should be <25 miles of me and it should be [anything but an internship]--but as I go along, Indeed seems to be actively thinking about what I'm clicking on and adjusting its behavior accordingly. I see a listing for a "commerce writer" at The Spruce and I think "I'm not interested in anything to do with commerce, but I like The Spruce, maybe I can click through to other jobs they have?" It turns out I can't because the job is listed through some generic agency, so that was a bust...but now Indeed is serving me as many jobs as it can find with the word "commerce" in them. Luckily I seem to be able to game this a little bit by clicking on things with more obviously relevant key words to get my search back on track.

I might also click on a job listing just because I can't tell what it is from the preview text, or because something about it sounds hilarious to me. Or I might click on something because the preview text sounds right, but then the actual job is exactly wrong. This last problem is strongly compounded by employers dicking around with job titles which I think sometimes happens to follow some new trend, sometimes to make the responsibilities ambiguous so they can exploit people, sometimes because of industry-specific terms that are not cross-compatible, and sometimes out of genuine idiocy (so it seems to me). Like, in my limited experience "associate" is an entry level office thingy I might qualify for, but an associate is something very different in a big time law firm--or an employer might use that title so they can pay on an associate level for a disproportionate amount of labor and responsibility. Years ago when I was actively searching for jobs on LinkedIn there was some weird mistake--I don't know anymore if it was a problem with my site activity, or if LinkedIn misinterpreted my resume and profile, or both/neither--but something made it so that LinkedIn would only serve me vice president jobs no matter what. It was all C-suite stuff I would never qualify for and that I probably wouldn't even want. There was nothing I could do to fix this, and eventually I reached out to Support to try to get someone to help on the backend. They never responded to me in any way and I totally forgot about LinkedIn for many years afterward.

Spoiler alert for 976-EVIL I guess but there's a part of that movie where the heroes try to find out who is in charge of the evil prophetic phone horoscopes, so they go to the office building that hosts all these hotline businesses and it turns out that 976-EVIL is basically just coming out of a box in a closet. That's how I feel about a lot of internet businesses, and I know this is by design to avoid paying for customer service, but still. Years ago I was stalked by a guy who left 600+ comments on a YouTube video related to my place of work. We couldn't reach the original uploader and we tried and tried to get someone's attention at YouTube, but we never got back so much as an automated email with a FAQ link. I'm still convinced that nobody works at YouTube, it just comes out of a box in a closet somewhere.

Anyway. I remain amused and annoyed that The Algorithm thinks that everything I do online is both on purpose and has desirable outcomes. Sometimes I have this paranoid fantasy about what if my phone is monitoring all the subtleties of my exact behavior on Tumblr, because I follow a few people who post porn *just once in a great while*, which means sometimes I'm innocently scrolling along when some porn appears and I do a double-take thinking "Who do I follow who is posting that?", and I scroll back to figure it out--in which case my phone would think that I'm lingering over the porn because I want it, not because I'm surprised and confused. I hate that I even think about stuff like this, but it's a fact of modern life.

PS Because of this train of thought I now know that the Lemon Party once existed in Canada. Check it out if you want, it's not porn. No for real though.

[jasmine-the-fox]

May the spirits spare your soul

And at long last... I present to you all a new salt fic! So sorry for the wait I didn't mean to take this long to write anything... I have been trying to limit when I use my laptop and so I forgot to even make any fics for you all. Anyways this is my salt fic and I hope you all enjoy!

The time has come for the students at the Light academy to summon a spirit and see there soulmate thread to find the one they were meant to be with for all eternity. Jasmine and Marinette were very excited about this event, the two of them have talked about all of the spirits they could summon and they imagined who there soulmates could be in the end. Mari believed her soulmate would be charming and protective of her.

All the while Jasmine believed her soulmate would be loving, caring, strong and many other things... But at the end of the day she just wanted someone who would love her no matter what happens, as a result they were waiting in line for there turn to summon there spirit and soulmate thread... All of a sudden they heard laughter and looked to find ahead of them was Lila Rossi, she is a liar and still was able to get people around her to believe everything she claims.

"Don't waste our time you losers! We all know that neither of you will get anything so just go back to your rooms" she said making Mari want to smack her but Jasmine stops her "You know she will make us look like the bad guys if you try anything. It's for the best to ignore her for now and wait for our chance to take her down" she explained making Mari sigh but nod in agreement.

They stay where they were which angers Lila before she looks forward and keeps moving as time slowly moves for her to have her turn to summon her spirit and get her thread to her soulmate... She couldn't wait to shove it in Jasmine and Mari's faces when she get's one and they don't in the end, she smiles as she walks to her spot in her white dress and gives her name so she can be marked as her turn being done. She recites the incantation that is required to summon the spirit... And nothing happened which shocked her, she was about to try again but the dish that to reveal her thread was brought to her.

She dipped her hand and nothing happened again... She was angry and stormed over to where the others who had there turn were talking to there spirit or there friends. Time goes by and soon it's Mari's turn, she takes her spot and just as she was about to give her name Lila speaks "Don't bother with her or Jasmine. They won't get anything at all" she claimed but was ignored as Mari gave her name. She then spoke the incantation and all of a sudden lightning began and before Mari was a little storm... That revealed her spirit. He was a boy that looked around her age with blonde hair and green eyes, he also had black markings on his body.

"Hello my dear Soulmate. I am Adrien the God of Destruction and i am here to serve and care for you" he said making Mari look at him in shock, when the dish was brought to her she trembled as she placed her hand inside and the liquid began to glow. She pulled her hand out and just like he said her thread connected to him... They were soulmates, she opened her mouth to speak only for there to be a shriek "You thief! You stole him from me! He's my spirit and soulmate so give him back now!" Lila ordered only for an elder to speak "you should know Rossi that it is impossible to steal a spirit or even a soulmate from another" she claimed making Lila get looked at in confusion.

Of course she felt shame and so she ran away to her room, Jasmine then walked to her spot to speak her name... Only for two things to happen before she could: A tree sprouted before her and a fire tornado formed... Both of them revealed two beings that made many gasp in shock. The one in the tree was slightly shorter then Jasmine but not by much, he had curly green hair and bright green eyes, he had freckles all over him and was clearly an elf if you could tell by the clothes then by the ears... The other was taller than the both of them, he had spiky blonde hair and sharp red eyes, he also had dragon wings and a tail.

"Hello soulmate! I am Izuku elf God of the forest! I am so happy to finally meet you!" Izuku said making Jasmine smile "And I am Katsuki Fire dragon God" Katsuki claimed making Jasmine nod, the dish was brought to her and just like for Mari... It glowed and her threads connected to her two spirits. Everyone was shocked by this as they had never seen someone with two spirits who were also there soulmates, Jasmine soon walked over to Mari and Adrien "Why hello there Jasmine. Marinette has told me about you... But would it be alright if I could look around before we go somewhere to relax and talk?" Adrien asked making Jasmine smile and nod.

They then walked around so the three Gods could be shown around, Adrien would keep an eye out for anyone who might try to hurt Mari... All the while Katsuki had his tail around Jasmine's waist and Izuku spoke to some of the plants around him. When asked about it, he explained that it was to connect with the area so if he wasn't with Jasmine... He would at least know where she was and if she was alright, after awhile they split ways to show there respective soulmates there room, Adrien began to bring his things to decorate the room and to replace some of Mari's old things with new ones.

Izuku and Katsuki on the other hand... They completely took over the room, stuff was thrown out to be replaced with better furniture, decorations were added, jewelry was presented to Jasmine as gifts, plants were added for Izuku and that was just the tip of the iceberg on what they did to her room. A month goes by, and the two girls are bonding well with there soulmates and while some agree with Lila about her claims about it being unfair she didn't get anything... Others disagreed with her and began to stay away from her, this angered her as they shouldn't be leaving her like that.

Lila was so angry but determined to get back at the two... She was the winner in this place and there was no way she will allow them to win even once while she's around... So she began to form a little plan, this however was sensed by Adrien, he looked over to find Lila heading somewhere and he could tell she had a plan in mind "Adrien? Is something wrong?" he turned back towards Mari and smiled towards her "Sorry love... But I think it would be for the best that we go inside now" he explained, this of course confused the two girls but they both nodded as Jasmine offered they go to her room.

Mari nodded in agreement and they all headed inside to Jasmine's room, they slowly walked over and Mari was surprised that she moved "Katsuki got into a fight with a girl next to me because she was being too loud with her potions... Then she made a hole in the wall and almost hurt me so he went to attack her" she explained making Mari gasp while Katsuki grumbled about how he had warned the girl to be careful. They walk into the room to find it much larger than her old room, she had a large bed, a chair swing, a table to read and drink tea on, a large bookshelf and so much space to do her own thing, they all sat down at the table while Izuku went and made them all some tea.

They talked for a while as they relaxed until there was a knock on the door, Izuku goes to open it and finds Lila who looked sad and teacher Bustier who looked displeased about something "Now Jasmine, I know your happy with your situation but it's not fair at all to Lila that you summoned two spirits while she didn't. So it's for the best that you hand one of them over to her" she ordered. They were all shocked by her words as she then grabbed Izuku to force him by Lila to follow her... He wasn't the one she wanted though since she would rather have Katsuki by her side but she was happy to have still won... But Adrien stopped it "Miss, while I understand you wish to make her happy... You are wrong to force a soulmate to be with another who isn't there soulmate or master" he explained.

This of course angered Caline, she tried to force what she ordered to happen... But then teacher Mendeleiev came over "What is the meaning of this Caline! You know that a spirit or even a soulmate can't be with another as they are bound to there summoner and soulmate no matter what!" she screams, Caline tried to explain but she and Lila were dragged by the woman to be spoken to... leaving the group alone for now as they were certain that Lila wasn't done with them just yet. Izuku who had been terrified from the situation quickly ran to Jasmine who held him close to her side, Mari feeling like it was for the best to leave said her goodbyes and left with Adrien for her room, later she received a letter explaining that she and Jasmine were excused from classes for the entire day after what happened to them thanks to Lila.

She didn't know what Jasmine had planned... But she knew that she wanted to go to the market and get to know Adrien a little better today, while she was out and about... Jasmine didn't leave her room, Izuku needed her and Katsuki went out for her to get them food after making sure that the seal around the room was there and active so no one could try to enter. Later, during the night he didn't sleep... Instead her kept himself awake to watch over his soulmates and to keep them safe... And warm as they both despised the cold. As for Lila and Caline, Lila was given a warning for her actions while Caline was pulled out from her classes for a week even after she focuses on writing 300 times that she couldn't force a spirit to be with another student or a soulmate to be with someone else.

They of course hated this... But those were there punishments for there actions, the worst part was that all of the students found out what she did... Turns out Jasmine's neighbour was in her room and heard what happened... She was the reason Mendeleiev came and also told everyone what happened... Resulting in Lila being hated and ignored while Jasmine was asked how Izuku was doing. Lila of course tried to save face by lying to her old followers... But only the three who were loyal stay by her side which upsetted her as she wanted more of them by her side... But they snapped out of her lies and went to apologize to Mari and Jasmine for there actions, after that things went back to normal.

Jasmine and Mari went to there classes while bonding with there soulmates, many students praised them for there strength while some went to them for help which resulted in them becoming popular, this caused Lila to want what they have back... And then she got a plan. One day everyone began to talk after the first class of the day about how Lila didn't come to class and no one knew why, but then... They were all in a panic when an explosion happened outside, Adrien claimed that Lila was the reason for the explosion and when asked why... Everyone felt fear "She summoned someone by force... And it's not a spirit or a god" he explained.

The teachers rushed outside with some students' including Mari and Jasmine followed them... Sure enough Lila was where they do the annual spirit summoning with a bright smile "I did it! I summoned my spirit and soulmate!" she claimed... everyone gasped in horror as she didn't summon a spirit... But a high ranking demon "I am Tomura... A pleasure" he said, teachers screamed that they needed to send Tomura back and cleanse Lila after what she did which was against so many laws but she refused and screamed that they were trying to tear her from her soulmate. Tomura made things worse when he claimed that they were being rude to him and his soulmate... And then... He noticed Jasmine, he grinned and pounced to attack her, she screamed in horror as Mari called out to her but luckily Izuku and Katsuki moved quickly enough to protect her while Adrien went to attack him and move him away from everyone.

Lila tried to stop Adrien, but teachers take her back inside by force making her scream for Tomura... only for Adrien to succeed in sending him back where he belongs... However he turned in horror to find Jasmine on the ground in pain, in the end Tomura had been able to lightly touch her and as a result his powers were slowly killing her from the inside and outside, unable to keep watching her suffer... Katsuki and Izuku move and give her some of there blood and begin a binding incantation. This will bind her to them and she will live as long as they do, unable to die and unable to age anymore... As a result the attack Tomura did on her disappeared and she woke up fully healed, Mari cried tears of joy at this and held her friend close to her side, after that, they watched as Lila was punished for her crimes by being sent to the shadow realm.

This realm was a prison to make the criminals suffer by either going mad... Or end there own life, Lila tried to fight back but failed and was sent to the shadow realm, Jasmine was offered some time out of class and she accepted to return home with Katsuki and Izuku to inform her family and friends there of what happened to her... Many cried but accepted in the end that she would watch them all die in the end which hurt her greatly, she stayed there for a few days before heading back to the school to continue with her studies. Mari does check on her at times because she still worried about her friend, but Jasmine always smiled and told her not to worry about her and to focus on herself... Adrien ended up explaining to her that Jasmine needed time to accept that she might never die.

This broke Mari's heart... But she accepted this and allowed time for her friend to heal from this new life she was to live, of course it wasn't easy on Jasmine either as many of the students began to ask her questions about being immortal... She tried to turn them away but most of the time she would return to her room tired and drained from answering there questions. Katsuki and Izuku try there best to help her but most of the time... She simply wanted to sleep, one day Katsuki and Izuku took her away for a few days, she was of course confused until they took her to a lovely house that was by a gorgeous lake. They revealed how they built it for her to relax and be able to heal from what happened to her because of Lila... Jasmine cried that day for the first time after she was told she wouldn't die as long as Katsuki and Izuku live.

She looked around the place and slowly adjusted to the place with them showing her around, she returned to class much better then before and even spoke to Mari with a bright smile... This made her friend so happy that she was doing so much better now. Time went by and soon they graduated, Mari returned home to her parents to be with them for a while while Jasmine went back to him to celebrate with her friends and family before she goes back to the home her soulmates built for them to live in together. Years go by and now Mari is also immortal and is a teacher at the academy, Jasmine on the other hand is the mother of five kids: two forest dragons, two fire elves and one dragon elf with great magic... the five will attend the academy when they are older but for now learn from there parents while Jasmine carried there younger sibling.

Mari and Adrien visit when they can and are always happy to see them, currently Mari and Adrien's daughter Emma wasn't with them as she had to study for a test so they only had Lucas with them... But they promised she would be with them next time, Jasmine simply smiled as she greeted them and had the two join her while Lucas went to play, they talked for a bit until Mari went to join the kids in there little game "Adrien? Are you happy?" Jasmine asked making Adrien look at Marinette "Yes. Being with my soulmate at long last makes me so happy... Just like i believe Katsuki and Izuku are happy to be with you" he said making Jasmine smile and nod as Katsuki came over to carry her over to the others with Adrien following.

Yes... Adrien was very happy now... He wait 300 years to be with Mari once more and now he would never let her go... He knew that Katsuki and Izuku on the other hand... Waited five thousand years to be with Jasmine once more...

He also knew that Lila who was stuck in the shadow realm... Was praying for the spirits who live there... To spare her soul... Even though they have waited centuries for her to finally be in there grasp...

[princeescaluswords]

Hi Esc (can I call you Esc?), I'm not planning on watching the Teen Wolf movie but I have unfortunately been exposed to a lot of St*rek nonsense about it. Most of it is obviously hogwash but I am a little confused about the whole thing with Stiles's jeep?? I was wondering if you could explain from a rational perspective what that whole thing was about and what you think it actually meant in the movie.

You can call me Escalus, Esc, or even PEW (as some of my detractors do). As long as it's done with respect, I'm very flexible. And I would strongly recommend watching the movie if you have the opportunity, but I understand if you don't wish to do so. People have called it useless nostalgia, though I really don't understand how you can be nostalgic for a television show that only ended five years ago, but that could be a function of my age.

To me, the movie offered closure on certain narrative beats that I felt didn't get fully addressed in the final season of the show, and opened the door to future stories if they decide to pursue them. Thus, it had to revive those beats, explore them and conclude them, and I think it did so admirably. Was it perfect? Of course not. I'll never be totally satisfied with Jeff Davis's minimalist takes on emotional exploration. In his work, we have to divine what people feel by actions, by symbols, or by using familial relationships as replacements for actual words.

But that is exactly where the Jeep comes in.

To summarize the Jeep's role in the movie. At the end of the series, Stiles had given Scott the Jeep, though he was driving it in the walk-off so it's unknown if the took it back. This happened in the fall of 2013 in the story's chronology. The movie takes place in 2026. Neither Scott nor Stiles have the Jeep; it rests in the yard of Hale Auto, the Hale family business. Eli Hale, Derek's son, in an act of typical teenage rebellion, takes the Jeep for joyrides, getting in trouble with the sheriff, who has had to have the Jeep towed back to the business. Derek believes that Eli steals the Jeep because Derek hates it. The Sheriff says that Derek has conflicting feelings about the Jeep. When the nogitsune-manipulated Allison tracks down Eli and Scott to the Hale Auto, she prevents them from fleeing in it. That's all that happens with it. (If someone who has watched the movie feels I've missed something, please add!)

To me, I think it's pretty obvious which narrative beat that the Jeep is supposed to evoke. The primary relationship for Scott in the series was with Stiles, and it is around that dynamic that the show built itself. Eli's reckless fascination with the Jeep and the way it causes trouble with his parent is supposed to evoke Stiles, just as Eli wearing Scott's #11 jersey to play lacrosse and his reluctance to embrace his werewolf nature due to a violent event is supposed to evoke Scott. The Jeep serves to link Eli to the beginning of the series. Eli serves both as the Ghost of Teen Wolf Past and the Ghost of Teen Wolf Future. I've written elsewhere that Jeff Davis is very fond of recursive motifs. One of the most important scene in support of this is when Eli asks Scott a question while they're on the run.

Eli: My dad told me you almost had to cut his arm off once because of wolfsbane poisoning.

Fans know it was Stiles who almost had to cut off Derek's arm in Season 1, but this wasn't sloppy writing. It was deliberate conflation of Scott and Stiles, because it links Eli to the same exploratory beats of Season 1, the same way the Jeep does.

Now, what is the relationship with Sterek? Many Sterek shippers have taken the presence of the Jeep at Hale Auto, Eli's fascination with it, and Derek's ambivalence toward it as an indication that the Sterek relationship is 'real.' It's a stretch. Derek never mentions Stiles. Eli doesn't. But there is nothing wrong with that elaboration. As with all healthy shipping, fandom can add head canons to the story that enhance their enjoyment without a problem.

Personally, I think that Jeff wrote it this way as an offering to the Sterek shippers, the same way I feel he wrote the Rashomon-like FBI raid in The Wolves of War (6x20). He's saying -- "Sterek didn't happen, but I recognize how much the Sterek shippers have engaged with the fandom and the show. Here, let me show my appreciation."

But as they always do, parts of the Sterek Fandom could not be satisfied, and so they went too far. The Jeep wasn't a nod in the direction of their non-canon ship; to them, it was confirmation. And once they received this phantom validation, they shut off their mind to everything else. They don't even recognize the emotional entanglement between Allison and Scott and its resolution. They don't care about the way the movie readdresses the theme of the uselessness of revenge and corrective violence. They absolutely miss the comparison between the nogitsune's and his weenie pawn's absolute waste of freedom and life to take revenge of people who have moved on and Derek's willingness to fight for the value of all life with the ultimate sacrifice -- the mark of a True Alpha. They're so enraged that he died in flames they miss that this is what closes the loop: this time he saves his family.

And so, as they've demonstrated for a decade, parts of the Sterek fandom act in a bizarre, strange and twisted manner. They despised the movie before it even came out, planning to rewrite it with fix-its in an event that was set up before the movie even aired. And, of course, nursing their ancient entitled grudge (just like the nogitsune and its weenie pawn) they focused their rage on the lead protagonist, because Scott is still the lead protagonist, even now. A large majority of the "fix-its" don't really talk about or grapple with how to fit Sterek into the movie -- they are far more interested in attacking it. They attack Derek's last wish for Scott to take care of Eli, ignoring for the millionth time the good relationship that developed between Scott and Derek. They attack Scott for wanting to save a resurrected Allison from the manipulations of an illusion-casting demon. They hated it, they knew they would hate it, but they watched it anyway, as if I sat down and ate an entire plate of steamed broccoli, complaining "this is so effin' gross" when no one would be making me do it.

And always, the unspoken motivation is their rage that a show they liked chose a non-white character to be the lead. Because the truth is that as much as they like to pretend, it's not the fact that Sterek didn't happen that's the problem, it's the fact that Derek and/or Stiles wasn't the lead protagonist. Tyler Posey and/or Scott McCall weren't obstacles to their shipping; their animosity is completely due to the fact that it was his story.

[althea-the-angel]

So guess who went down the rabbit hole of Magnus Archives/Magnus Protocol lore. Me! (Also spoilers for the Magnus Archives I guess?)

                                        THEORY 1 (AUs are canon?)

So, in the Magnus Protocol, the institute burnt down in 1999 and there were no survivors. (https://rustyquill.com/show/the-magnus-protocol/ me? citing my sources? shocking!) 

But we know for a fact that this didn’t happen in the Magnus Archives as we still have an institute and Gertrude was murdered years later by Elias, and so couldn’t have possibly died in 1999 like she would have if the institute burnt down while she was working there.

There is also the fact that in the Magnus protocol the institute is in Manchester while the fandom wiki (https://the-magnus-archives.fandom.com/wiki/The_Magnus_Institute) says that it was originally in Edinburgh but was then moved to Chelsea in London. Neither of those place are Manchester so it’s either a continuity issue or another piece of evidence for this theory.

Given that both of these things don’t line up with tma canon, and at least the fire one is definitely intentional, I think that the Magnus Protocol is set in some sort of alternate universe (and it’s not impossible bc similar things have happened before in tma, but we’ll get back to that later). That’s not my full theory though.

                         THEORY 2 (Sometimes you gotta commit arson)

Now, we know that the Magnus Protocol is an alternate universe because of the fire, but what caused the fire to happen in the Magnus Protocol but not in tma?Welcome to the 2nd part of my theory (where I felt like a god bc all the pieces were connecting but it was like 2am and I wasn’t really thinking about things like evidence or proof) 

See, it could be that a random event happened/didn’t happen in the Magnus Protocol and we just never hear about it in tma (and I’m not willing to rule out Agnes Montague just yet considering she would have been alive at the time) but I like to think that the clues would be there for us to find, both because mysteries with clues hidden throughout are kinda the name of the game for tma and I imagine that would hold true for this, and because it’s fun.

So, if the clues are hidden throughout, then what happened in 1999 in the Magnus Protocol universe that didn’t happen in tma?

According to the timeline for tma on the fandom wiki, (https://the-magnus-archives.fandom.com/wiki/Timeline#2000 again not sure how much I trust the details to be correct but I am not going through 200+ episodes to try and assemble a timeline) only three things happened in 1999 that we know about (Copypasted bc I’m lazy)

A number of the Magnus Institute's files are leaked to the press, causing widespread derision (MAG 68).

September - Mikaele Salesa sells a meat grinder to the cook on his ship. The cook begins serving his own meat to the crew, healing himself with the meat grinder. Mikaele fights the cook, who is thrown overboard (MAG 115).

October - The Bright Lake amusement park closes its doors for the last time (MAG 156).

I doubt that the meat grinder had anything to do with the fire considering that they weren't even in the area of the Magnus Institute, and pretty much had nothing to do with it, so we can rule that one out. Which leaves us with Bright Lake closing and files being released.

I considered that Bright Lake might be involved as they’re one of the only solid Extinction phenomenon, but fire doesn’t really seem to be the Extinction’s thing, (though alternate universes, of a kind, are so maybe they are involved) and again, it’s just not in the right area of the world. (also, fun fact, there is a real Bright Lake amusement park in I think the same place as in tma, and it’s open, so that’s fun)

That leaves us with the files being released. Off the bat this one is the most likely simply because it takes place at the Magnus Institute. It was also probably meant to be an act against the Magnus Institute, which increases the likelihood of the fire and the file release being related. After all, someone who is already pissed at the Magnus Institute could easily choose to seek their revenge in different ways in different universes. The intentions behind releasing sensitive information and burning a place to the ground could easily be the same. Plus the files being released is something that’s mentioned more then once, (I think, considering that I actually vaguely remember it, it probably was) whereas the meat grinder is a statement that never comes up again, and the Bright Lake thing is a single sentence in a statement that doesn’t even take place in 1999.

                            THEORY 3 (The timeline works, so why not)

So, we’ve figured out that the Magnus Protocol is most likely set in an alternate universe, and that whoever released the files in tma was probably the one to set the fire in the Magnus Protocol, but remember how I mentioned that alternate universes have happened before in tma? (I haven't finished season 5 bc procrastination is a bitch, but I think they may be mentioned there too? idk) So in tma there’s this lady called Anya Villette. Now she makes a statement in MAG 114 and it’s basically about how she was hired to clean Hilltop Road (the house, not like the entire street) and she got transported from her universe to tma. Now this confirms that alternate universes are a thing in tma. (I think it’s also confirmed in the end of season 5 bc there were a lot of jokes about it) 

Now this next bit isn’t really a theory, but what if Anya’s universe is also the Magnus Protocol Universe. There isn’t really any evidence for this, so again, not really a theory, just a claim with a decent timeline, but basically Anya says that she’s never heard of the Magnus Institute before when making her statement. She gives her statement in 2009. (And there are some time shenanigans but it doesn’t impact the year so we’re just gonna ignore it) In the Magnus Protocol, the institute burnt down in 1999, so if the file release never happened, (which I think was said to be why everyone knew what the Magnus Institute is? I feel like I remember that but I could be completely wrong.) and the institute ceased to exist in 1999 then it’s entirely possible that Anya wouldn’t know about it, despite it existing at one point in her universe.

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 72 - apple cutting

Ah, yes, Basira's going after Rayner! Interestingly enough, Basira once did walk in on Jon when he was recording a statement with Rayner (MAG 52 Exceptional Risk with Robert Montauk). On my first listen I honestly didn't remember the name Maxwell Rayner from MAG 52, even less from MAG 9, so I totally didn't understand why Jon knew to bring torches. Also, without the knowledge of the Fears and their specialties I think I didn't make the connection of darkness being a thing on its own at that time, as it's a stylistic device used in a lot of horror.

I think it's funny, that in English it's spelled "kebab" (with a B at the end) while in German it's "Kebap" (with a p at the end). Either way, it's neither an English word nor a German one. I looked it up, and in Turkish (and Austria, and Germany I guess, has a lot of Turkish influences. I mean, siege of Vienna by the Ottoman Empire happened not only once but twice and a lot their stuff just stuck) it's spelled kebap with the P, but that also just traces back to the arabic word kabāb and there it's spelled with a B.

"Weirdly enough, it wasn’t a Chinese; it just served kebab, chicken, burgers…" - We actually have a lot of those everything-takeaways here. Kebap, Pizza, Burritos, Sushi, Schnitzel, all from the same restaurant

"I was always under the impression that you needed to order those huge rotating columns of things specially" - lol, it's literally just a bunch of meat pierced onto that Döner skewer. It's that simple. I looks impressive yes, but it's not complicated.

"You know the weirdest part, though? The bit I regret most is that I don’t know which of the meals it was. I feel like, if I’ve been tricked into eating a person, I might at least have learned what a human being tastes like." - Hhhnnggg, I miiiight have been the same? Hard to say not being in that position. I mean my initial reaction, just thinking about this, is nausea, but I totally understand that there is a sense of curiosity there?

"I know how that sounds, and I’m certainly not okay with murder," - Yeah, totally agree on that one. That is completely out of the question.

"not to mention the issue with prion diseases" - Yep! AAALSO DID YOU KNOW!!! (Oh god, I waited 74 days to finally talk about this!) There was a person who survived 10 years with Creutzfeldt-Jakob thanks to experimental treatment. (The average life expectancy following the onset of symptoms is 13 months, so 10 years is a big deal!). And now hold on to your butts. That person was a man from the UK. And his name was… Jonathan Simms! (Look him up, he got a Wikipedia page. Simms, with double M, from Belfast.)

"but the actual act of eating meat that comes from a human? I’m fine with it. I can’t help but feel that anyone happy to eat other meats is something of a hypocrite if they’re not at least theoretically fine with eating human. There’s nothing inherently special about us. We feel as much pain, see the world with the same eyes as a real pig. Meat is meat." - This is what I meant when I said just two episodes ago, that Jonny put a lot of views or thoughts into TMA that I totally had in the exact same way before. I've always said I should be fine with eating all kinds of animals, not just the ones we deem not cute enough to keep as a pet. People always tried to get a reaction out of me when finding out that I have a horse by saying "Omnom, I like salami" (first of all, what is wrong with you that this is what you want to say to a person who likes horses. Just shut your mouth if you have nothing of value to say) and I always was like "Yeah, if it's not a horse I knew, why not". I also always thought I should be able to stand next to an animal getting slaughtered if I want to eat them. Meat is meat? My saying always was (although I'm not religious, but I think everyone got, what I meant) "All life is the same in front of god and on a dinner plate."

Since I am Caucasian in Central Europe I feel like I'm not really in a place to comment on the discourse of racism in this episode. I do see however that it seems to be self-aware of it a bit when the statement-giver talks about that teenager, who broke into the kebap shop. Like "It's a white boy in nice shoes, of course they let him go."

"but that if I didn’t check in with him in an hour or so, he should come down, in case I had trouble of any kind." - Smart. I like smart people in horror stories.

"In his spindly hands he held a pair of bolt cutters, with the blades positioned either side of my ankle." - I heard that a full rupture of the Achilles tendon is one of the most painful things (burns are also super high on that scale btw. Poor Jack Barnabas). My dad told me he was once present when an athlete ruptured their Achilles tendon while running. He said it was like a gunshot… But yeah, anything in horror media or thrillers etc. involving cutting the Achilles tendon is some body horror that seriously gets to me. I don't know, feet in general get to me. Happens regularly at work (Ha, imagine working in orthopedics T___T).

"I saw chipped teacups, a stack of what looked like old bibles" - This ties in with MAG 5! There was a trash bag with strips of paper with prayers on them!

"A small pile of human fingers." / "In a single, smooth motion the knife lashed out, cutting through my bound hands and neatly severing three of my fingers in a sudden burst of white-hot pain." / "Instead he picked up my fingers one by one and tossed them off-handedly onto the pile behind him." / "then looked at my right hand, which still seemed to have all five fingers. It didn’t make any sense. I could still see the ones he had cut-off on the pile. One of them bore my heavy silver ring, while the same finger on my hand did not." - This is why I always knew that MAG 5 is a Flesh statement. The detail about the teeth being all the very same but in different stages of decay and age. The thing with the fingers was just exactly like that.

"He spoke with a crisp RP accent, which surprised me. You know what’s messed up? Here was this guy clearly about to kill me and carve me up for meat, and I still somehow felt bad about making the assumption that he couldn’t speak English, like I didn’t want my last thoughts on Earth to be low-key racist." - There the statement is again self-aware of some sort of racism. This is absolutely a thing sadly, especially in super white Central Europe. How often have I heard people of color tell me that they got told "Wow, your German is really good." ¬_¬ Though I do totally understand the criticism of using the stereotype of the "Chinese people will eat anything" for a Flesh-themed statement. In the movie Fresh (2022) (also, spoilers for Fresh:) the first place where the protagonist has a date is also a Chinese restaurant and I was very aware that this was probably also already a nod at where the story is headed - cannibalism. There were subtle hints to this throughout the whole movie before we get to the reveal, that Sebastian Stan's character abducts women to lock them up at his house at a remote location and uses them as supply for fresh human meat to sell to rich people.

Ha, Jon says "End statement" again instead of "Statement ends".

It's a very loaded statement! A lot of interesting stuff, and a lot of less so. I don't want to get into it, but I do think the statement is very self aware more than people give it credit for, and the Flesh entity is terrifying.

The teeth and fingers thing is... ough. Gross is putting it lightly haha!

[lucy90712]

Fabio Quartararo-  Winner

Today is an exciting and scary day as I will be playing my first tennis match at a big tournament. I have grown up playing and watching tennis and I have tried my best to play semi professionally the last few years so when I was able to play to possibly qualify for Wimbledon I thought why not give it a go and to my surprise I managed to qualify. Since then I've taken tennis a lot more seriously and have been training a lot more in the build up to my first match which is today. Until this morning I wasn't nervous as it didn't really feel real but now that I'm actually here and my match starts in a few hours I'm really nervous. Half of me knows that no one expects me to do well as this is one of the grand slams and I'm not exactly a top flight professional but the other half of me wants to try and win the match and make a bit of a name for myself so that I can actually play professionally instead of having to work another job on the side.

Sadly no one could be here for my first match as my parents have to work and my boyfriend Fabio has a race to go to in another country so can't be here to watch. I'm not sure if being on my own is helping or making things worse as no one is here to keep me calm but they also aren't here to make me worry more. Luckily my coach was able to come so I had someone to keep my mind focused on the right things and help me make sure I knew how I was going to play against my opponent as every match is slightly different depending on how someone plays. I tried my best to treat it like any other match by following my normal routine as much as possible before I had to walk out which was really scary but I kept my headphones on to keep me calm.

Seeing how many people were in the crowd watching was really strange as usually only a few people watch at the matches I play so for so many people to be here and watching me felt odd. Of course no one really knows who I am so they are here to watch my opponent but they will still get to see how I play which I've never really had before. Before we started practicing I took a moment to take everything in as I may never get this chance again and I want to remember this moment as even if I lose it is still such a magical experience.

The match felt like it was over in a second as I was just so focused on playing which I didn't think I would be as I thought I would take longer to settle in due to the nerves. Before I knew it it was match point but it was my match point. All I has to do was serve well and win the point and I would be through to the second round of Wimbledon. It was like I wasn't in my body as I served and somehow managed to hit an ace which meant I had won and I was through to the next round. None of it felt real as I went into this match completely expecting to be beaten but here I am winning and now having to look towards my next match. Eventually I came out of my little dream world when I heard my coach cheering from the crowd which reminded me that I should be enjoying this moment and celebrating so I started to enjoy myself a bit more and interacting with the crowd a bit before having to do an interview and then leaving the court.

Getting back to my dressing room my coach was waiting to give me a hug and together we jumped around the room celebrating as neither of us thought this would happen nor have we been in situation like this before. Our celebrating was stopped when my phone started ringing so I went to grab it planning to just turn it off but when I saw that it was Fabio I knew I had to answer. I answered the FaceTime and his face filled my screen and as soon as it did the smile on my face only got bigger as he had such a big smile on his face and tears in his eyes which almost made me cry.

"You did it I couldn't be more proud of you right now you played so well out there" he said excitedly

"I know I didn't think I had any chance but I just got in the zone I didn't even realise what was happening until the match point" I said

"You were so good I knew you were good but to watch you out there was just amazing do you believe me now when I say you can do this professionally?" He asked

"Well a bit more but its just the first round I'm not going to make it any further" I said bringing expectations down

"Don't think that way if you play how I have seen you play you could make it to the finals" he encouraged

"Yeah sure" I laughed

I spoke to him for a bit longer before I packed up my stuff and my coach and I went to get something to eat so that we could then talk about my next match and where I can improve which we hadn't planned to do but now we have to.

~~~~~~~~~~

What a journey the last few weeks has been. After my first match I really was under the impression that it would be the end of the road for me but again I won and that just kept happening and before I knew it I was in the semi final and I was playing Simona Halep. I hadn't been too nervous for any of my matches before that but that one really made me nervous as I hadn't played such a big player before and I had no idea how it would go. For the first time I had to have someone calm me down before my match which my coach tried to do but that didn't do anything. In the end Fabio FaceTimed me and together we talked through the nerves and he gave me some tips that he uses when he's nervous before a race which I didn't think would help but they actually really did.

The match was still difficult but after the first set I felt an awful lot more comfortable and I started playing as well as I've ever done before. When I got to watch the match back even I was surprised at some of the shots I pulled off but that didn't matter as I actually won. It was even more fun to see the reaction after I had made it to the final especially Fabio who has managed to watch the match on tv and was constantly posting on his Instagram stories. I've never seen him so nervous and excited at the same time plus some of the squeals that came out of this mouth I don't think he could ever recreate. Seeing him so excited also gave me extra motivation I needed to get in the right head space for the final.

Trying to get ready for the final was incredibly difficult because so many tv channels and news stations wanted to speak to me. I understand why because its not everyday that someone gets to the final of their first grand slam but at the same time I really just want to prepare myself and try my very best to do well in the final. Even if I don't win its important for me to play at my very best especially because all my family are coming to watch for the first time and I want them to see what I can do. Sadly Fabio wasn't sure if he could make it and now that its the morning of the final and I've not heard from him I don't think he will be here to watch.

With the final being such a big event I've been here for hours already practicing and doing a million other things and it's still not time for the match. Doing so much has been great though as it has kept me distracted from what I'm going to be doing in under an hour now. Sadly my busy schedule did have to stop at some point that now that I'm just sat in my dressing room warming up and stretching my mind is running at a million miles an hour which is usually what happens when I'm really nervous. I really don't get this bad too often and the only one who has ever been able to get me out of my own spiral of thoughts is Fabio but of course he isn't here which is only making me feel worse as I would have loved for him to be here to watch. Its hard knowing that I've been there to see all of the big moments in his career but he's not going to be here to see mine which I don't blame him for its just making me sad as I loved celebrating his big moments but would have loved to do the same today.

As I was going deeper and deeper into my spiral I didn't even notice the door to my dressing room open but I knew someone had come in when I felt a hand go around my waist. I almost jumped out of my skin when I looked who was sat next to me and it was Fabio, for a second I couldn't move but when I got myself together I pretty much threw myself at him and gave him the biggest hug I could manage. He held onto me for ages before letting go slightly and placing a gentle kiss on my lips which somehow settled some of my nerves even though he wasn't even trying. We sat in silence for a bit longer before I realised there was so many questions that I needed answers to.

"Hang on how are you here I thought you were busy" I said

"I may have been lying I wanted to surprise you plus you didn't think I'd miss such a big day did you? He questioned

"Well I hoped you wouldn't but I know how busy you are so I just thought you couldn't make it" I said

"Well I wouldn't miss this for the world" he said

After I was done asking questions he started helping me to calm down. Together we talked through all of my worries and he helped me feel better about everything and just reminded me that it doesn't matter what happens out there as I've already proved my abilities to the world. Like usual he really calmed me down and got me focused before he had to leave to go and watch and I had to walk out onto centre court where just 2 days ago I won the match that got me here.

The cheer from the crowd as I walked out really lifted me and got me even more fired up which I wasn't sure was possible but I really did feel more confident after hearing that people were actually here to support me. Before the match could start we had to practice which I think ended up being some of the worst tennis I've ever played which sent me into a panic again that I wasn't ready and I was going to look like a fool in front of so many people. Just as the match was starting I looked up to my box where all my family were sat and caught Fabio's eyes and he just gave me a simple smile and a thumbs up but just that calmed me down again.

Fabio's POV

Watching y/n in the warm up I can't lie I felt worried for her as it wasn't her best but right before the match started she looked at me and I knew I had to try and do something to calm her down but all I could think of was giving her a thumbs up which I did before I could stop myself. After that she looked away the the match began. The first shot came from her opponent and I could barely watch but when she sent it back and immediately managed to catch the other player out and win the point I think my jaw hit the floor. I don't think anyone expected it to be honest even y/n as she looked a bit stunned for a second before getting right back into the match.

Getting to watch her play I felt so proud as I know how hard she works and that every spare hour she has outside work she likes to put into tennis and now that's finally showing and it just makes me so happy. It's also a bit strange to be here watching and cheering her on as usually its the other way around but I have to say I'm loving it because as much as its stressful I'm loving getting to watch her do what she loves and do it well. I truly feel like our roles have been switched as I know y/n tells me that people are always taking pictures of her when she's in the paddock and all day I've seen people filming me out the corner of my eye even during the match.

Before I knew it the first set was over and y/n had won 6 games to 2 which was really impressive. It felt too early to get excited but at the same time it seemed like the entirety of y/n's box with her family and her coach were all feeling the same way I was, it just really seemed like this could be her moment and we were all excited and nervous to know how it was going to go. As the second set started it felt like you could cut the tension in the air with a knife; people were on the edge of their seats and every hit seemed to come with a noise from the crowd. Each point she scored just made more excitement build up inside me to the point that I thought I might explode only halfway through the set. It is so crazy watching her get closer and closer to achieving her dream as its not something she ever thought that she would actually accomplish but here she is doing it right in front of my eyes. She's seen me do the same on multiple occasions but this is the first time I've been able to witness her do the same and honestly its an amazing experience. I understand why she was so emotional when I won the championship because I'm feeling it now and she hasn't actually won yet.

As we got to match point I could barely watch because although y/n would have many chances to win as it was 5 games to 2 I just wanted to see her do it now. It wasn't her serve but she was handling the rally very well until her opponent was making her run from one side of the court to another. It was hard to watch as I could tell she was really struggling but she kept managing what seemed like the impossible and then all of a sudden she just made the ball but managed to hit it out of her opponents reach. She won the point. She won the game. She won the set. That means she won the match. I had been trying to hold in tears for a while now but seeing her realise what she had just done was too much for me and the tears just came flooding down my face.

Your POV

Game. Set. Match.

I've done it I've really done it. For a few seconds I couldn't believe it but as I listened to the crowd clapping and cheering it finally sunk in that I'd just won Wimbledon my very first grand slam. When it really sunk in I just fell to the ground trying to get my breath back and control my emotions as I was about to burst into tears from how overwhelming it all was. The controlling my emotions part didn't work too well as instead I just let the tears fall as there was no use trying to stop them. I only cried more when I finally got up and looked to my box to see my entire family with tears in their eyes and Fabio crying too. They were quite far away but I tried my best to talk to them before I was made to go and do my interview.

"So y/n how does it feel to win your first grand slam?" The interviewer asked

"It feels incredible I don't think it has sunk in properly yet but I know that when it does this is going to feel very surreal" I said

"We know that this is your first professional tournament so what has it been like getting here?" they asked

"Its been tough for many years I have been training in any free time I have outside of working but I couldn't have got to this position without the support from my family, my coach and my boyfriend who has been great at understanding what I'm going through and supporting me" I said

With that they let me go and I got to receive my trophy before finally being able to leave the court and see all my family. I ran over to them all and we had a big group hug all together before I spoke to each of them individually. The last person I spoke to was Fabio who was waiting for me with a huge smile on his face, he held me close to him as we both talked about how crazy life is and he didn't stop telling me how proud he was that I'd achieved my dream. To top off probably the best day of my life we all went out for dinner together which I think has happened twice since Fabio and I started dating so it was a lovely way to spend evening.

[lasthumaninwales]

Okay so, by way of an explanation of my blog title, which no pne asked for...

In my family, I am very much the one who is into spooky shit. I'm the one who likes horror movies, who reads scary stories, who wants to go on ghost walks and visit haunted places... but for whatever reason, I am not the one who ever sees anything.

However, what does happen is that people tend to see things around me.

When I was 19 I went to Egypt with my grandmother. We took a cruise down the Nile for a week, visited a lot of ruins and temples, as one does. And, about halfway through the week, we were in a visitors' centre for one of said temples, sat in the dark watching a video, and my grandmother had a full on supernatural experience sat right next to me.

Apparently, a woman dressed in traditional ancient Egyptian clothing - headdress, long white dress, the works - appeared at her side, hands held out to her in a 'prayer' position. I was sat on the next chair over, and I saw nothing. My grandmother said she was trying to get to me, to get my attention while this was happening, but despite us being inches apart she couldn't reach me.

The next day she saw a carving on a wall, and told me that it was the woman she saw. The carving was of the goddess Isis.

Everyone joked about it when we got home, talking about how my grandmother must have had too much to drink the night before, but like... we could barely afford to drink water on that trip, she hadn't had a glass of wine since the first night.

In more recent years it's my wife who keeps seeing ghosts. My wife... has come around to more spooky hit since we've been together, but neither really believes in nor in any way likes ghosts and haunted places. And yet...

We went on holiday to Yorkshire, and in York I insisted on going to The Golden Fleece, the most haunted pub in a city that's already haunted as fuck. When I went to the bathroom, I got a text from her saying "Please can we leave soon." My signal was a bit rubbish so I didn't reply, just went back out to the bar to tell her that sure, of course we could leave.

Her: Thanks, sorry, I just got a bit freaked out because I thought I saw something behind the bar. It's okay though, I'm fine now.

Me: Really? What was it?

Her: Oh it's nothing, I just looked up and there was a guy behind the bar, and it was a different guy to the one who served us. I looked away for a second and he was gone. He must have just gone through to the other bar, it's nothing.

Me: Yeah? What did he look like,

Her: I don't know, he was facing away from me, tall, dark hair, wearing a big red coat.

Me: ... Did you not read the descriptions of the ghosts that are supposed to haunt this place? On the plaque outside?

Her: ... No?

Me: A red coat you said? Like, a modern one?

Her: No, like a long wool one, old fashioned...

Me: One of the most famous ghosts in this place is a highwayman called One Eyed Jack. He wears a long red coat.

Her: ... I wish you hadn't told me that.

Then closer to home, we were driving back from the next town over late one night a few weeks ago. It was cold and raining...

Her: I feel bad, I feel like we should have stopped for that girl.

Me: What girl?

Her: The girl stood by the side of the road back there.

Me: I didn't see anyone...

Her: She was stood looking out onto the road, on your side. She had a white coat on, did you not see?

Me:... A white coat?

Her: Yeah...?

Me: You know that bit of the road is meant to be haunted, right?

Her: NO?!

Me: Yeah, some kids coming back from a concert saw a young woman dressed in white at the side of the road back there. She stepped out in front of the car, they thought they'd hit her, felt it happen, but when they stopped there was no one, no body anywhere, not a mark on the car. I told you this story...

Her: I DIDN'T KNOW YOU MEANT HERE!

Me: Shit, babe...

A couple of nights later we were making the same journey.

Her: -sounding reluctant and strained- ... She was there again.

Me: ... the girl?

Her: Same outfit. Standing in the same spot. Identical.

Me: Babe... I was deliberately looking this time, and I didn't see anyone.

Her: ... Shit.

So, yeah.

I don't see ghosts, but I seem to facilitate other people seeing them.

[pesterloglog]

John Egbert, Jade Harley

Act 5, page 3415-3419

-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

EB: hey jade, are you there? i have a computer now.

EB: this boring guy keeps blinking at me though, and it's weird.

GG: john!!! :D

GG: wow, finally!

EB: hi!

EB: sorry i disappeared after you entered the game...

EB: but from what i have seen in the clouds, it doesn't look like you have had much trouble making progress!

GG: nope!

GG: dave was able to set up as my server player

GG: he is building up my house right now so that we can deploy some equipment up there

EB: oh, nice!

EB: dave is serving ALL the ladies, isn't he?

GG: yep!

EB: he is like a dude on butler island.

EB: i mean, a dude who happens to be one of the butlers...

EB: doing a lot of serving, to various ladies who are vacationing at this snooty resort.

EB: wait, i am fucking this up.

GG: :o

GG: thats ok, i wont tell him about it

EB: ok, good.

EB: all i am saying is, why can't i have a dave butler too?

GG: well, maybe you can.....

GG: i will try to put in a good word for you B)

EB: thank you.

EB: what is the equipment you're deploying?

GG: im not sure!

GG: something to do with cloning i guess? it serves some purpose in my quest as witch of space

GG: a nice troll named kanaya has been advising me on stuff about that

GG: have you talked to her?

EB: hmm... i don't think so. not recently anyway.

GG: you should!

GG: a bunch of trolls are not nearly as bad as i thought

GG: even karkat! he has been helping me too... sort of, hehe

EB: he has? but i thought he "hated" you!

GG: oh yeah, he said plenty of stuff like that, but i dont think he ever actually meant it

GG: flying off the handle is part is of his charm in a funny way, once you know that about him

EB: yes, this is what i have concluded about him as well.

EB: he is a pretty great guy. i am really looking forward to more of his outbursts, especially his first conversation with me, which i am to understand will be legendary.

EB: but we shouldn't tell him we said any of this, or he will be "furious"!

GG: heheheh

GG: shhhhhhhhh

EB: so what else have you been up to?

EB: we should try to catch up as much as possible!

GG: yeah!

GG: hmm what else... theres been so much going on, its been a little hard to keep track of it all!

GG: why dont you tell me what youve been up to first?

EB: oh man.

EB: you will never guess what i am doing right now.

EB: go ahead, try to guess, you will not succeed.

GG: ..............

GG: whoa :O

GG: john where did you get that nice flying car??????

EB: oh god dammit!

EB: how do you know!

EB: do you have rose's crystal ball?

GG: sort of!

GG: she gave me the code, and i made a cool pair of goggles with it

EB: argh, i am surrounded by real life witches!

EB: everyone i know is turning magic, it's ridiculous.

EB: including me! i'm magic now.

GG: it certainly seems so! what with your fancy magic car

GG: and your chauffeur familiar, i guess?

EB: no, he is neither a chauffeur, nor a familiar...

EB: he is just a new friend!

EB: also, this is not a magic car, it is an ordinary car.

EB: i found it in my dad's wallet.

GG: you did???

EB: yes, i just found his wallet on the ground.

EB: but my dad was nowhere to be found. :(

GG: :(

EB: the clouds led me to the wallet though, so maybe they will keep leading me to him?

GG: hmmmmm...

GG: maybe, but hang on let me try something

EB: ok.

EB: i have seen lots of interesting things in the clouds...

EB: i guess you used to see things like that all the time, right?

GG: yes!

GG: what have you seen?

EB: wow, uh...

EB: well, lots of things that were mysterious and didn't make much sense...

EB: but also lots of things i recognized.

EB: like stuff i have done before. and also stuff i will do in the future.

EB: and things that rose and dave have been up to...

EB: and you too!

GG: :O

GG: like what, what did you seeeee?

EB: well, i saw you on your island, and saw you sleeping in a floating bed, and...

EB: i saw your pretty snow planet...

EB: and i saw you with some frogs...

EB: have you found any frogs yet?

GG: frogs?

GG: no...

EB: well, i saw you once in a neat outfit...

EB: it was kind of like you were torn from the pages of my favorite japanese mangas.

EB: and the snow was melting.

EB: and you were surrounded by frogs for some reason!

EB: heh, now it sounds like i am describing a weird dream i had about you.

GG: sure does!

EB: which i guess is sorta true?? anyway, i guess that must not have happened yet.

GG: nope! but that sounds pretty interesting

GG: i wonder why i would be surrounded by frogs?

EB: dunno! but you are a witch, remember.

EB: witches LOVE frogs.

GG: hahaha thats true!

GG: i hope i am not planning on putting them in a cauldron or anything o_o

EB: i doubt it, it looked to me like a friendly gathering.

GG: whew!

EB: oh, and one time i saw a green version of you with pointy ears, and you were crying!

EB: did that happen yet?

GG: bluh. yes :|

GG: i prototyped my dead dream self and tried to get her to fight jack

GG: but it turned out to be a BIG MISTAKE

GG: god i cant believe how dumb that idea was, she was an emotional wreck

EB: oh no!

EB: what happened? where is she now?

GG: oh, she went off to cry somewhere else... good riddance!

EB: wow jade, you really have been up to a lot!

GG: hehe i guess so

EB: and i have just been staring at these dumb clouds for hours or whatever.

EB: i even saw my own dead body in a cloud!

GG: what!!!!!

GG: oh noooo

EB: it's ok though, it already happened.

EB: i was sort of tricked into sleeping on my quest bed.

EB: and when i went to sleep, jack killed me.

EB: she must have known that would happen...

GG: who?

EB: vriska. do you know her?

GG: i dont think so!

EB: she is pretty cool, but just between you and me, she might be a little crazy!

GG: well if she tricked you into getting killed, then i would have to agree

EB: but, i don't think it's really like that...

EB: honestly i think dying was a necessary part of the process, and she just didn't tell me so i wouldn't get scared.

GG: what process?

GG: and how are you alive now if you died! john im a little confused

EB: well... i died on the quest bed and woke up here, as my dream self.

EB: and now i have all these sweet wind powers.

EB: which is how i am making this car fly!

GG: ohhhhhh!

GG: that makes sense

GG: dave had mentioned you reached the god tier

EB: yeah!

GG: but he did not say what it involved D:

GG: he probably didnt want to make me worried

EB: maybe, or he was just being some sort of aloof coolkid.

GG: or that!

GG: but he also said that no one else would do it but you...

GG: actually, now it makes sense that i wouldnt be able to, since my dream self is dead

GG: its too bad really

EB: yeah...

GG: i wonder what space powers would be like??

EB: hmm, i have no idea!

GG: oh well

EB: maybe you shouldn't rule it out though?

EB: i mean, you did mention your dream self isn't COMPLETELY dead, remember?

GG: !!!

GG: youre right...

GG: i suddenly dont know if i want to become a god tier anymore :(

EB: heheh.

EB: she was that bad, huh?

GG: DX

GG: i dont even want to talk about her! she is sad and cowardly.

EB: ok, i will not pry.

GG: why dont you tell me about your new friend?

GG: he sure seems to be enjoying that horn!

EB: i know, right?

EB: /rolls eyes

EB: he is just this silly guy i met when i woke up here.

EB: he seemed to be curious about me and followed me around for a while.

EB: also, i noticed he was wearing my bedsheet.

GG: haha! what is he doing with that!

EB: i don't know, there seems to be this whole cult full of people who worship my ghost sheets.

EB: i ran into a bunch of them in a salamander village, they are all completely ridiculous.

EB: so i guess he is a member of the cult?

GG: probably!

GG: you are just going to have to deal with the fact that you are becoming a famous hero john, and people everywhere will idolize you

EB: derp! they aren't idolizing ME, it's my dumb bedsheets they love!

EB: it's so stupid.

EB: OH!

EB: also, another thing about him...

EB: he has the queen's ring!

GG: :o

GG: thats great! john you have to get that ring from him!

EB: i've tried! i asked him politely for it and everything.

EB: but he is very protective of it!

GG: hmmmmmmmmmm

GG: that is a problem!

EB: actually, i think it's ok.

EB: i think he is supposed to keep it.

GG: you do?

EB: yes. once i saw something in the clouds.

EB: it was hard to tell what was going on, but i saw him!

EB: im pretty sure it was the future, and he had the ring, and...

GG: and what?

EB: and then the cloud stopped showing me.

EB: but i am pretty sure that some day...

EB: he will have to wear it!

GG: 8O

EB: so i think i will just let him keep it.

EB: for some reason, i trust him.

GG: ok john.....

GG: i trust you

GG: so i will trust in your trust in him

EB: yeah, trust all around!

GG: im going to be a supportive piece of shit all day and fall down all this trust!

EB: how trustworthy do you even have to BE to CONFIDE in someone like that.

GG: lol

EB: anyway, i guess that's enough of that nonsense.

EB: i should keep looking for my dad!

EB: maybe if i fly around in this car with this guy beeping here, the noise will get his attention and he will find me.

GG: john, i already found your dad!

EB: you did?

GG: yes i found him with my goggles almost right away!

GG: but i didnt want to interrupt you

EB: oh! well that sure is convenient!

EB: where is he?

GG: he is with roses mom

GG: they are in a castle, having some sort of tea party together

GG: they appear to be enjoying each others company!

GG: its quite adorable actually

EB: oh wow...

EB: jade, what if they get married or something???

EB: oh god, if rose became my sister too, that would wreak HAVOC on karkat's shipping diagram!

EB: as leader of this team i submit that we cannot afford to let this happen!!!!!!!!!!

EB: everyone man your battle stations!!!

GG: RED ALERT!!!!!!

EB: we have a ship to sink! arm torpedoes!!!!!!

GG: AWOOOOOOOOOOOGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EB: KA-PCHOOOOOOOOOOOOO. target destroyed. B)

EB: heheh, i am just joking around, of course.

GG: durrrr oh really john :p

EB: :P

GG: but really, they make a nice couple and i think it would be great if they got married!

EB: yes, i agree.

EB: even if it would make it awkward for me to marry rose.

GG: i guess so

EB: but maybe that doesn't matter? these are kind of special circumstances.

GG: yes they are pretty special

EB: i wonder if my dad and her mom would mind us getting married...

GG: i dunno

GG: who are they to stand between two youngsters in love?

EB: whoa, in love???

GG: yes john, two people must be in love in order to get married

GG: it is one of the rules!

EB: oh jeez, yeah i guess you're right.

GG: so what do you say john, are you in love with rose?

EB: um...

GG: and if not, are you prepared to fall in love with her?

EB: er.

GG: wellllll? :D

EB: argh!

EB: this line of questioning is making me flustered.

EB: all i know is, i was ordered by karkat to marry rose.

EB: i think we can both agree that it would be reckless to look at a crappy shipping diagram made by an alien, and ignore its message altogether.

GG: i didnt even know karkat made a shipping diagram...

EB: it's a thing of beauty, and it will save the human race.

GG: i will have to make him show me

EB: yes.

EB: btw, you will marry dave.

EB: 100% TRUE REALITY.

GG: <_<;

EB: it's ok though, i will not press you on your feelings for him.

EB: i already know you are totally into the strider anyway.

GG: whaaat...

EB: it's all in the diagram, jade.

EB: it's all in the diagram.

GG: i dont know about that!

GG: i clearly need to take a good hard look at this prophetic document

GG: and possibly tell karkat what an idiot he is!

EB: that you do.

EB: ok but anyway, who cares about his terrible shitty drawings and meddlesome romantic schemes!

EB: how do i find my dad!

GG: uh

GG: well, i dont actually know where he is relative to you!

GG: so i dont know if i can give you directions

EB: bluh!!!

GG: there might be some way to do that...

GG: these goggles are actually REALLY COMPLICATED!

GG: i will look into it and get back to you

GG: in the meantime, why dont you fly around and keep looking?

GG: at least now you know to look for a castle

GG: and maybe the clouds will give you some more tips!

EB: yes, that's a good idea, i'll do that.

EB: thanks for the help, jade!

GG: sure! <3

EB: i will talk to you later.

GG: later!

-- ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --

[autolovecraft]

Perhaps he screamed.

Maddened by the sound, or by the stench which billowed forth even to the open air, the waiting horse gave a scream that was too frantic for a neigh, and plunged madly off through the night, the wagon rattling crazily behind it. To him Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the way in his quest for the Fenner casket. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago. You kicked hard, for Asaph's coffin was on the floor. That he was not perfectly sober, he subsequently admitted; though he had not then taken to the wholesale drinking by which he later tried to forget certain things. As he remounted the splitting coffins he felt his weight very poignantly; especially when, upon reaching the topmost one, he heard that aggravated crackle which bespeaks the wholesale rending of wood. Then the doctor came with his medicine-case and asked crisp questions, and removed the patient's outer clothing, shoes, and socks. Just where to begin Birch's story I can hardly decide, since I am no practiced teller of tales.

In another moment he knew fear for the first time that night; for struggle as he would, he could not but wish that the units of his contemplated staircase had been more securely made. To him Birch had felt no compunction in assigning the carelessly made coffin which he now pushed out of the way in his quest for the Fenner casket. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. He was just dizzy and careless enough to annoy his sensitive horse, which as he drew it viciously up at the tomb neighed and pawed and tossed its head, much as on that former occasion when the rain had vexed it. Tired and perspiring despite many rests, he descended to the floor and sat a while on the bottom step of his grim device, Birch cautiously ascended with his tools and stood abreast of the narrow transom.

In the semi-gloom he trusted mostly to touch to select the right one, and indeed came upon it almost by accident, since it tumbled into his hands as if through some odd volition after he had unwittingly placed it beside another on the third layer. Certainly, the events of that evening greatly changed George Birch. Sawyer in their last illnesses. His drinking, of course, only aggravated what it was meant to alleviate. In this funereal twilight he rattled the rusty handles, pushed at the iron panels, and wondered why the massive portal had grown so suddenly recalcitrant. He was a bachelor, wholly without relatives.

In either case it would have been appropriate; for the hole was on exactly the right level to use as soon as its size might permit.

Finally he decided to lay a base of three parallel with the wall, to place upon this two layers of two each, and upon these a single box to serve as the platform. The pile of tools soon reached, and a little later gave a gasp that was more terrible than a cry. Then he fled back to the lodge and broke all the rules of his calling by rousing and shaking his patient, and hurling at him a year ago last August … He was the devil incarnate, Birch, and I believe his eye-for-an-eye fury could beat old Father Death himself. The thing must have happened at about three-thirty in the afternoon. What else, he added, could ever in any case be proved or believed?

He confided in me because I was his doctor, and because he probably felt the need of confiding in someone else after Davis died. On the afternoon of Friday, April 15th, then, Birch set out for the tomb with horse and wagon to transfer the body of Matthew Fenner. Neither did his old physician Dr. Davis, who died years ago.

[sugawarassoulmate]

im foing thru a bully!osamu brain rot so imagine samu pissing reader off somehow (like collaterally: i imagine him fucking up and KNOWING he fucked up) n is trying to do some damage control by being the sweetest he's ever been I JUST WANT TO SEE HIM GROVEL

i Imagine him to be piss scared at the prospect of u ever breaking up w him over smth he did jendkd

i am incapable of not writing a happy ending for these two idiots

words: 805 cw: fem!reader, post-love confession bully!osamu, jealousy, arguing, insecurity, implied breakup, sfw but minors dni always

honestly, bully!osamu's biggest problem is his jealousy and it's something he still struggles with even after you become official. at first, you kind of deal with it, but as his girlfriend now, you wish he'd trust you enough and get over it.

"i'm tired of having the same argument with you, again and again, samu," you finally said after so much back and forth.

he really did it this time.

you and a classmate were working on a project together worth a big part of your final mark, which obviously meant spending a lot of time together. of course, osamu had a problem with it since it was a guy.

you tried to be understanding—you texted samu every time you were with him and you always did work in the library so you two would never be totally alone. but that wasn't enough for osamu. he still found a way to get upset and grill your partner to the point where he was considering talking to your professor about working with someone else.

when he apologized for it, you, you'll admit you blew up on him a bit.

"it's not just about the stupid project, samu. but thanks soooo much for making that situation harder than it needed to be," you snap, taking him by surprise since you've never raised your voice at him.

"but what's gonna happen in the future? do you just not trust me? i'm sick of feeling guilty about something that it's my fault." after stopping for a moment and catching your breath before sighing. "sometimes i think you're never going to change..."

and osamu doesn't like that. the way the tone of your voice changed just then. panic immediately sets in when you leave the room without looking back at him.

he goes into damage control, but he isn't sure what to do. osamu's never been one to apologize before and if he did, it wasn't in words. he's pretty sure cooking a meal or fucking you won't get him out of this one.

he asks no begs for your forgiveness. it's so stupid, of course, he trusts you. sometimes osamu gets in his own head and doesn't want anyone to have you, but that's immature of him.

osamu gives you some space before he apologizes—holding onto your waist as he tells you how right you are and how he's going to make things right. first, he goes to your project partner and apologizes to him as well (it stings to do so, but osamu knows it's right)

your partner accepts and agrees to continue working with you so neither of your grades is jeopardized. but osamu knows it's not enough.

it starts with breakfast in the morning because hey, he's gifted with amazing cooking skills and he's gonna use them. osamu makes your favorite and serves it to you in bed.

the stern smile on your face tells him that you appreciate the gesture but you're still upset, which he expected.

for the record, miya osamu does not grovel, but he'd be lying if he said your words didn't scare him a little bit. sucking up his pride, osamu kneels next to the bed and takes one of your hands.

"i do trust you, baby," he breathes, choosing his words carefully so as to not upset you.

you pick at the food sitting on the tray. "it doesn't feel like you do sometimes. and it's not just my project partner, but it's our friends. i can see you getting uncomfortable when suna's around and — fuck, samu sometimes i swear you think i'm gonna run off with your brother or something."

ok, that hurt, but he deserves it.

he takes another deep breath. "i will work on it. yer my girlfriend and i trust ya," he says with a steady voice. "and next time i'm bothered by somethin', i'll talk to ya instead of lashin' out."

that perks you up a bit. "and?"

"and...i'll be better about you hangin' out with tsumu and suna. they're yer friends too and i shouldn't be so possessive."

finally, finally you give him a smile, leaning over for a quick kiss. "samu, was that so hard?" you said, running your fingers through his hair. "that's all i want to hear."

for the first time, osamu can breathe easy. the sweetness in your voice is back and you're actually eating his food — a sight he'll never get tired of. "shit, baby, ya had me scared for a second,”

your eyes harden for just a moment. “don’t get too comfortable, samu. changed behavior means more than just an apology.”

and just like that your smile is back, the revolving door of emotion gives osamu whiplash that he’s never experienced before, but he’s more than willing to work on himself if it means you’ll stay.

©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[seijorhi]

Scion

yakuza arranged marriage anyone??

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

wc 8.5k

tw dubcon, noncon, drug use, mentions of murder, torture, minor character death, implied infidelity, human trafficking, blood, general yandere themes, smut, nsfw

“You know we’re not actually in a relationship, right?”

Oikawa grins, “The big, sparkly diamond ring I’ve got in my back pocket begs to differ.”

You fix him with an unimpressed look, which only serves to make his grin widen. He really can’t help himself when you get all worked up like this. 

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Ring or no ring. Contract or no contract, I think it’s better for the both of us to just act like–”

“Act like this isn’t happening?”

“That’s not– you’re being difficult,” you huff. “I just meant that we don’t need to pretend to be all… coupley in the meantime. You’re free to see and do whatever you want, and… and so am I.”

It’s not a question exactly, there’s something distinctly uncertain in your tone. Are you seeking his permission or trying to reaffirm to yourself that you still have some semblance of freedom – romantic or otherwise – until the moment you walk down the aisle to bind yourself to him?

Neither thought sits particularly well with him, though before Oikawa can open his mouth to deliver a retort, you’re cutting him off. “And I’m not wearing the ring.”

“No? But I haven’t even shown it to you yet. I picked it out myself, and you know I have excellent taste.”

Your scowl deepens. “Would it kill you to take this seriously?”

“Like you are?” he parries. “You understand that you’re essentially giving me a free pass to fuck whoever I want while we’re engaged.”

He doesn’t miss the flicker of distaste that you try (and fail miserably) to hide. You’ve always been like that; wearing your emotions on your face, bare as the light of day. And while that’s an admirable trait in somebody else – one he admittedly finds more endearing than he should as far as you’re concerned – it won’t do you any favours in this world of his. The world you were born into, loathe as you seem to be to accept your part in it.

Admittedly, it does make it so very entertaining whenever he decides to push those delightful buttons of yours.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself perhaps, and lift your gaze to meet his. 

“I don’t know why you even agreed to marry me, and honestly I don’t care. I'm doing this for my family, but if this whole thing falls apart before I ever make it down the aisle, I’ll sleep just fine. So by all means, fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, I promise you I won’t stop you – so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”

Though you never raise your voice, there’s a fire that burns in your eyes, unwavering. Unflinching. And far from being put off by it, Oikawa’s thrilled. 

“Fine,” he purrs, “but you’ll be wearing the ring.”

—

You’d asked for a year, and graciously, he’d agreed. 

Oikawa’s waited a long, long time for this, another twelve months will hardly make a difference. Besides, there’s nothing stopping him from stealing you away every now and then; there’s meetings with the wedding planner, picking out a venue, organising caterers, going over the guest lists – all responsibilities he could technically pass off to someone else, but why deny himself the pleasure of your sparkling company when he has the chance? 

And of course, there’s special occasions that people would traditionally want to celebrate with their soon to be spouses. Days like today; his 30th birthday. 

He doesn’t bother informing you of this, because then he’d miss out on seeing your bright, sunny grin when you open the door, and how it falters when you realise that it’s him. 

“Oh, Oikawa…”

Though it’s an admittedly poor effort, he’ll give you credit for trying to pretend that it’s not blatant disappointment leaching from your tone as you grip the edge of the door, your gaze darting over his shoulder quickly.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

Ah. His eyes drift downwards, taking in the short, summery dress, the light sweep of makeup across your pretty face. Spies the ‘fuck me’ heels sitting by the door, ready for you to slip on before you leave. 

Date night, then. And on his birthday no less.

“Did you have plans?” he asks, plastering an innocent smile across his face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The answer is obviously yes, even if it weren’t clear from your outfit, he can see it written all over your expression. 

Your fingers tighten a fraction on the door, “I assumed– I thought tonight you’d be out with your… friends.” Friends, bodyguards, lieutenants, brothers. His family, soon to be yours. “To celebrate, I mean. Today’s your birthday, right?”

Oikawa’s touched that you remember. Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t be – ever since he was a teenager, your father had essentially enforced your presence (yours and your brother’s) at any of their events, birthday celebrations no exception. 

Another glance risked over his shoulder.

He shrugs easily, “We will be, later. For now I want you all to myself.”

You open your mouth, only to abruptly snap it shut, suddenly hesitant. Not without cause, he supposes. One thing to insist that your engagement with him doesn’t construe a proper relationship, another to openly admit you’re seeing somebody else while it’s his ring that glitters on your finger. 

His smile widens. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

“… Not at all.” 

Good girl. 

He takes you to his favourite restaurant in the city. Wraps an arm low around your back and lets his thumb rub slowly – posessively – at your hip when the staff bow deeply and address him by name, ushering you both to a private room, his usual, out the back. 

You’re quiet through dinner, picking at the food on your plate.

Normally it’d irritate him, push him to poke and prod until you came alive and played with him, however tonight he finds it oddly satisfying. Delightful, if only because he knows he’s the cause of your discomfort.

Did you manage to message your jilted lover before he swept you away for the night, or does the poor bastard think you’ve stood him up, he wonders.

“You know,” he begins, idly gazing down at his glass as he swirls the last dregs of whiskey, “I’ve been thinking that we need to amend our contract.”

You glance up sharply, and he only barely resists snickering. “What?”

“I think we should add a fidelity clause.” He pauses, lets the words sink in as he drains his glass in a single mouthful, “You seemed convinced I’d be fucking other people after we married, well, now you don’t have to worry.”

You blink. “But… I told you I didn’t care–”

“This way, if you catch me being unfaithful, both our marriage and the contract become null and void, and you can go on your merry way.”

Setting the now empty glass back on the table, Oikawa rests an arm on the back of his chair. For all your naivety, you’ve never been stupid. He can tell from the sudden tight, apprehensiveness in your features that you understand the subtle threat, yet it never hurts to hammer the point home, “Of course, that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

“Of course,” you echo back, your voice unsteady, and knock back the last of your wine.

Oikawa grins, “Another round?”

—

“Her brother’s outside,” Matsukawa informs him. “Demanding to see you.”

The night before his wedding, Oikawa stands at the sink of his bathroom, a damp face cloth in hand, wiping at the blood splattered along his face and neck. He’s already shed his shirt, dumped it on the floor – it’s likely beyond salvaging, the blood already in the process of drying. Another casualty to this lifestyle, though considering how much of a colossal fuck up this night’s already been, he can’t find it within himself to give a shit about one measely shirt.

Mattsun meets his gaze in the mirror, “Want me to get rid of him?” he asks.

Oikawa exhales, dropping the towel into the sink. His tattoos, the vibrant bursts of colour inked between swirling blacks and greys, stand stark against the pale skin of his torso, rising and falling with each measured breath. There’s a temptation for him to tell Mattsun to simply get rid of him. An even bigger temptation to march out there himself and soothe the monster raging beneath his skin with more blood. 

Instead, he holds out a hand, to which Hanamaki quickly passes him a clean shirt to shrug on.

“No. Let him in.”

In truth, he’d been somewhat expecting a visit tonight, sending your brother to grovel for last minute clemency, though? Oikawa’s almost disappointed, he expected more from you.

Your glowering brother isn’t nearly as pretty to look at.

A few minutes later, dressed and clean, Oikawa makes his way into his study, ignoring the man already seated while he settles himself into the leather backed chair behind his desk. His right hand, Iwaizumi, lingers by the door, arms folded across his chest, scowling silently at their guest.

“Oikawa,” he grits out, his head inclining just a fraction – all the respect he can seem to muster for the man marrying his sister. His soon to be Oyabun, considering that after tomorrow, all that he was poised to inherit becomes Oikawa’s. 

His answering smirk is practically vulpine. “Come to play white knight? Leaving it a bit late, don’t you think?”

“She doesn’t know I’m here,” he spits, eyes narrowing. “Tell me what I need to do to end this.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in that?”

And Oikawa has to give him credit; he doesn’t waste a beat, “Because you’re a greedy little fuck who enjoys manipulating people. Stop playing games and tell me what it is you want in exchange for breaking this engagement, and I’ll go.”

He laughs, lazily drumming his fingers along the edge of the ornate, wooden desk. “Always a charmer, Eita. I’m curious, though, are you here begging for her sake, or your own? Because you know as well as I do what’ll happen to you and your father if this wedding doesn’t go ahead.” There’s nothing kind in his expression as his lips curl upwards, “Is the price worth it?”

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.” 

Eita’s eyes narrow. “You know she hates this, right? Wants absolutely nothing to do with any of it. She had to beg our father for months just to be allowed to attend a normal school, and flat out refused to have any part in the business, to even be in the same room when it was being discussed – which was fine because he had me to do all that.”

“The prodigal son,” Oikawa mocks, earning himself a sneer in response.

“She wanted out, and we were so close to convincing him when he had to go fuck everything up. And because he’d spent years making bad decision after bad decision, running our family into the ground and then decided to screw over the wrong syndicate, he comes crawling to you, begging for help.”

“Such gratitude, as always.”

Eita scoffs, “Am I supposed to be grateful? It wasn’t enough to take over our territory and operations, was it? You had to take her too, and because she for some fucking reason loves the old bastard, she’s going along with it. I don’t give a shit about losing any of it, but she’s not gonna throw her life away for his sake, or mine. So I’ll ask you again, Oikawa; what do you want in exchange for letting her out of this?”

Interesting. Nothing he didn’t technically already know, or at least suspect, nevertheless… interesting. And with glittering eyes he leans in close. Smirks. 

“As tempting an offer as that may be, I have everything I want.”

—

As the head of one of the largest Yakuza syndicates in the country, a small wedding was never an option. Hundreds of guests pour into the estate, all with the sole purpose of witnessing the two of you tying the knot in a beautiful, lavish ceremony. And it is a beautiful, lavish ceremony. Champagne towers and endless floral garlands falling between the glittering chandeliers, a string quartet plays as the wedding procession begins. 

Your dress was technically the only thing he hadn’t had a hand in. He’d wondered earlier, staring at his reflection as he fixed the cuffs of his tuxedo jacket, what kind of wedding gown you’d chosen for yourself. After all, despite you agreeing to this marriage, you’d made no secret of your ambivalence towards the entire day, only giving input when Oikawa prodded.

There was always a possibility you’d choose something plain and dull, simply because you didn’t care enough to pick otherwise. As you walk down the aisle on your father’s arm, however, he realises he needn't have worried. 

You’re perfect.

Heart-stoppingly beautiful in ivory lace and tulle, and though Iwa leans over, claps him on the shoulder and says something in his ear, Oikawa can’t hear a word of it. Can’t focus on anything – anyone – but you. 

And your eyes are shining for all the wrong reasons, and yet he can’t bring himself to care when the elder Semi places your trembling hand in his. A perfect fit.

From there, the rest of the ceremony passes in a blur. Vows are spoken, yours somewhat apprehensively, and rings exchanged, and when the time comes to kiss his lovely bride, Oikawa obliges, his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against him, dipping you to a flurry of raucous cheers and clapping.

You stand dutifully at his side as the hoard of well wishers come to congratulate him – the both of you, technically – and pay their respects, saying little beyond the expected pleasantries. All the while his thumb strokes along the back of the hand you have placed in his. 

Cocktails. Dinner. Toasts. The cutting of the cake. Tossing your bouquet. Necessary traditions expected of you both, Oikawa suffers patiently through each of them until finally, it comes time for the two of you to leave.

The moment he has you alone, in the backseat of the wedding car, the last frayed tether of his self control snaps, and he’s on you.

Leaning across the seat, one hand cups the back of your neck, anchoring you in place as his parted lips crash greedily against your own, the other pulls at your skirt, blindly seeking the what awaits him beneath.

Oikawa can taste the notes of champagne on your lips, the sweet tartness of the chocolate dipped strawberries he watched you swipe from the dessert table before you left. Will your cunt taste as sweet, he wonders, his tongue sliding into your mouth in search of more.

“Tooru,” you gasp when he eventually draws back, a thin strand of spit connecting your mouths as you struggle to catch your breath. “Wait, just–”

“No,” he growls, tightening his grip and dragging you back in. 

The force of it, his kiss, the weight of him bearing down on you has you sliding awkwardly back in the seat ‘til you’re almost horizontal. Despite that, you make no further attempts to dissuade him, letting him kiss you senseless. 

Letting him ruck up your skirt and run his fingers along the seat of your lace panties.

Maybe because you know it’s pointless to fight when Oikawa’s made it clear has no interest in stopping or slowing down, maybe because you knocked back one too many glasses of champagne at the reception, or because you’re getting swept up along with it too – he doesn’t care for the reasons. 

He’s been waiting all day to finally have you, and for years before that, and now that you’re irrevocably his, Oikawa fully intends on taking – and enjoying – what he’s owed. 

The drive is fifteen minutes from the reception to the hotel, and by the time the driver pulls to a stop out front, Oikawa’s sliding those same panties off your smooth legs, pocketing them with a wicked grin. “Ready, sweetheart?” he purrs.

A little dazed, a little drunk, you only manage an unsteady nod, taking your husband’s proffered hand to step from the car and hastily adjust your dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. A waste of time, in his opinion, considering what he has planned for you, still, sort of cute, in its own way.

The clerk behind the counter is friendly enough, smiling politely and congratulating the two of you as he passes across the keys to the honeymoon suite. The second the doors to the elevator slide closed, Oikawa’s on you again, shoving you back against the mirrored wall, latching onto your neck, sucking and nibbling on the delicate flesh and palming at your tits as you throw your head back and heave a breathy sigh. 

Your wedding dress, beautiful as it is, doesn’t make it much further than the front door, Oikawa’s fingers scrabbling to rip open the fastenings at the back, buttons scattering across the floor as it yields to him. And he’s enough of a gentleman to help you out of the wreckage of your dress, though he makes no effort to hide the way he stares hungrily, eyes darkening as you’re bared completely before him. 

The curve of your breast, nipples peaking from arousal, those lovely, soft thighs he’s been waiting to dig his fingers into, the pretty little pussy you shyly try to hide from him, glistening from his earlier attention–

His cock twitches in anticipation. 

Fuck.

“No bra?” he teases, as if his voice hasn’t dropped an octave at the sight of you. “And here I was looking forward to unwrapping my pretty bride on our wedding night.”

He watches your brow furrow as the soft dig works its way through your tipsy haze, and before you can let yourself get upset by it, Oikawa grabs you again. Kisses your lips fleetingly and grings, tugging you towards the bed covered in rose petals, shrugging off his tuxedo jacket and tossing it aside as he does so.

“Lie down for me,” he commands, working on the buttons of his shirt, his bow tie already lost somewhere in the fray. “On your back.”

Obediently you settle on the mattress, propped up on your elbows as he sheds that too. Through glazed eyes you stare at him. At his bared chest–

No, he realises belatedly. You’re staring at his tattoos, your eyes trailing from his forearm to his bicep, rounding his shoulder and down his pectoral, following the snarling red dragon that curls up his right arm, the oni and the twin snakes baring their fangs on the left.

This is the first time you’ve seen them, yes, but they shouldn’t come as a surprise. Both your brother and father have their own, it’s the mark of the Yakuza, and yet you seem entranced by his, staring at them with something akin to wonder. 

“See something you like?” he asks, chuckling when you pointedly ignore him.

His ego stroked, he settles down on his knees at the foot of the bed. Holding you by your hips, Oikawa hauls you forward, ignoring your startled squeak, and nudges your thighs further apart. Licks his lips and lifts his lust darkened eyes to meet your own.

He watches you inhale, a flutter of trepidation teasing at the edges of your expression.

All you can seem to manage is a shaky, “Please.”

And he doesn’t know if you’re asking him to stop, or slow down or if it’s a plea for him to hurry up and get on with it. Again, it hardly matters – he has no intention of letting up tonight.

Leaning in, his nose skims along your inner thigh before he comes face to face with your pussy. Warm and glistening, clit nice and puffy, he’s waited long enough to taste you. 

His mouth descends, tongue dragging along your pussy with broad strokes that have you gasping, jerking in his hold. It’s not the sweetness of your lips, still, there’s something heavenly about the taste of your cunt, the soft, feminine musk that envelops him. He moans against your sex, the vibrations drawing another whimpering breath as your hips arc up, gently rolling against his face in search of more friction.

Fuck that’s hot. 

Oikawa teases at your clit, drawing the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking gently, letting the very tip of his tongue flick at it, before returning to lap at your folds. 

“T-Tooru–”

A moan slips from you, your hips bucking as his tongue delves deeper, pushing between your slick folds, sucking and slurping, waggling his tongue back and forth to drive you to the point of madness. Your hands fist at the white sheets, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to try and stifle all of your pretty noises while he eats you out, tits heaving with every stuttered breath. 

Now that just won’t do. 

Adjusting his grip, Oikawa breaks away and instead brings his fingers to your cunt, teasing at your lower lips, before finally sliding two fingers inside of you with a smirk. 

And your pussy’s so wet, so fucking needy, clinging to the digits as they slowly stretch your tight little hole out. It’s not enough. He knows it’s not enough, sees the frustration pinching at your face every time you chase his fingers when they withdraw. He can’t resist holding out just a little while longer, though.

Call it male pride, the twisted satisfaction that coils deep in his guts at the sight of you desperate and fighting against yourself to beg him for what you truly want– and he hasn’t even started fucking you yet. 

“You wanna cum, don’t you baby?” he croons softly, “Just tell me what my pretty little wife needs.”

It takes a minute or two of that slow, agonising pace, but as you writhe and whine and jerk against his hold, finally your pride gives way. “Please!” you pant. “Please Tooru, more. I-I need more. Just hurry up and fuck me!”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers inside of you to rub at your g-spot as he leans down and resumes sucking at your neglected clit. 

Whatever his wife wants. 

—

Oikawa takes a slow drag of his cigarette, the tip glowing cherry red in the dark, and exhales into the cool night air.

“Whose?” he asks.

Iwa shrugs, “Dunno yet. Mattsun reckons one of the Osaka assholes trying to cut into our territory. So far they aren’t talking.” 

Oikawa’s attention shifts for a moment. Sure enough, the last two gang members have been dragged off to have a chat with Makki and Matsukawa. The latter of the two currently straddling one of them, beating him into the ground, Makki tightly gripping the other’s face forcing him to watch. 

There’s nothing but cold certainty in his voice when he simply says, “They will.”

He drops the cigarette to the ground and grinds the smoldering embers beneath the heel of his shoe. Without another word he strides into the warehouse – a makeshift den. 

The bodies haven’t been touched yet, lying where they fell in pools of congealing blood, scattered bullet casings littering the ground around them. Oikawa pays them no mind. Instead he glances at the pallets strewn across the warehouse floor, brick upon brick of drugs, cocaine, meth, bundled baggies of non-descript little pills. More than he can count, at any rate.

And there’s cases of weapons too. Nothing flash or fancy, but guns are guns, and Oikawa’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Iwa’s silent beside him, gazing around the room with a shrewd look in his eye, likely trying to calculate the street value of it all.

Ever the businessman. 

Oikawa smirks.

Drugs will sell no matter what they’re cut with. It’s impossible to tell the quality by sight alone – retrieving his switchblade from his jacket pocket, he slices one of the bricks open, dips a finger in and swipes it along his gums. 

It takes only a second for that familiar rush of euphoria to wash over him, a pleasant shiver rolling down his spine. He grins. “It’s good. Pure.” A glance to Iwa, watching at his side, “How much?”

“Gotta be more than 300 pounds here.”

And fuck if he doesn’t like the sound of that. Oikawa whistles, unable to hide the smug satisfaction on his face. 

“There’s girls too,” Yahaba, one of his men, says, stalking in from the back. “Mad Dog’s with ‘em.”

Five of them, he counts when he follows his lieutenant, huddled up out by the rear entrance, cringing away from the scowling blond who looks as if he’d love nothing more than to tear them apart, one after the other. 

Part of the shipment, or merely entertainment, he wonders. 

He steps closer, grabs one of the girl’s faces and forces it upwards, tilting it this way and that, studying her like a prize mare at auction. Clear eyes. Clean hair. No sign of bruising under the thickly applied – now smudged – makeup. Girls fresh off the proverbial boat tended to be drugged to high heaven to keep them compliant. 

Even their clothes, the scraps they still have on at least, point towards a more established lifestyle. 

Escorts, no doubt, brought along by the men for some entertainment while they guarded their stash before transport.

Shoving her away, Oikawa exhales, bringing his hand to his chin as he ponders the options. 

Nobody will miss the girls if he orders Kyoutani and Yahaba to kill them. Either they’re owned by the same people who shipped in the drugs and the weapons, in which case their deaths’ll be chalked up to being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or they have a pimp, who beyond the loss of income, won’t give a shit. 

No one kicks up a fuss over a few dead whores.

And even if they did, Oikawa owns the working girls in this city, this is his fucking turf. They should know better than to send their girls out here. 

Yahaba and Kyoutani are both watching him carefully, awaiting the order. They wouldn’t so much as blink if he told them to cut the girls down right where they stood. 

If he were feeling particularly generous, he could let them go, run on back home to whatever brothel they crawled out of. Unfortunately for them, he’s all too aware that the only things girls like them are quicker to open than their legs are their mouths, and that just won’t do.

At the end of the day, though, a whore’s a whore; they’ll make money one way or another. Even the ugly ones. 

“Take them back to Hirama’s, she’ll find work for them. Who knows, Mad Dog,” he says, throwing his enforcer a wry grin and a wink, “If you’re lucky, she might even let you fuck one of them first.”

The blond scowls, even under the flickering lights he can’t hide the pink flush that stains his cheeks. 

Iwa raises an eyebrow, snickering at Kyoutani’s expense, “You think so? I thought she was still pissed at him for breaking the last one.”

“Mad Dog just likes to play rough, that’s all,” he smirks. “Hirama knows that, and besides, she owes me a favour.”

The girls are already out of his mind as he turns to leave, carrying on his conversation with Iwa. Tonight’s endeavours have been surprisingly fruitful – enough that he can’t justify being pissed off at getting called away in the middle of fucking his wife.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t itching to return.

He’s almost at the warehouse door when a clamour breaks out behind him. Yahaba curses, a few of the girls shout, and there’s a gasped “Wait!” called out. 

Oikawa whirls to find one of the escorts, a slight blonde with painted red lips and wide doe eyes, ducking out from under Kyoutani’s outstretched arm. 

She ignores the snarl from Kyoutani, the pistol Iwaizumi instinctively whips out, focused wholly on him as she grabs at his arm and clings to it, presses her lithe, scantily clad body close, “Wait,” she says, tears glimmering in her eyes even as she tries for a convincing sultry look, “Don’t send me away, I– we could–”

He doesn’t wait to hear what the two of them could do, backhanding her hard enough that she sprawls to the ground with a ugly cry. 

“Whores don’t get to touch,” he sneers, spitting on her curled up figure for good measure.

Good mood all but evaporated, he meets Kyoutani’s eye as the blond snaps forward to grab her by the arm and roughly haul her back to her feet. 

“If they decide to be difficult, get rid of them.”

—

She made us. She’s pissed.

Oikawa glances up at the approaching sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor. Quick. Agitated. Kunimi wasn’t wrong, it seems.

Mere seconds later, the door to his study is thrown open, and in you stalk; a storm of beautiful fury. “You’re having me followed?!”

Smoothly, he pockets his phone and rises to his feet. “Ah, there you are, sweetheart. I was wondering when you’d be getting back.” He takes a long, lingering look at your outfit; the red knit, halter dress that clings so beautifully to the curves of your body. “Gone for hours at a time, dressed like that… What’s a husband to do?”

The grin on his face is nothing short of a challenge.

“So you think I’m cheating on you, is that it?” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really think so little of me?”

He comes out from behind his desk and mimics your posture, arms folded as he leans back against the varnished surface and meets your narrowed gaze. “Do I need to remind you, baby, of what’d happen if you were?”

And if he weren’t staring at you so intently, if he didn’t know your expressions and body language inside and out, perhaps he might’ve missed that tiny flicker of fear in your eyes. 

Not a confirmation exactly, yet enough for him to know he’s not entirely off the mark, and oh how that makes him burn. 

“You’d… divorce me and take away my family’s protection,” you mutter, your tone more petulant now than angry. 

Oikawa nods, “On paper, yes.”

“On pa– what do you mean on paper?” 

His lips curl into a cruel smile, “That was our deal, wasn’t it? Either one of us cheats, and our contract becomes void.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “That’s what I just–”

“That’s all. The contract becomes void on paper. It means that if I decide I want to get rid of your father myself, no one’ll stop me. No one would fucking dare.” He pushes off the desk and closes in on you – a tiger stalking its prey. “And that brother of yours. Your shining white knight. What do you think I’ll do to him?”

His voice is soft, sweet almost. A loving caress, if not for the terrible words he speaks. But he wants you afraid, wants you terrified. Two fingers gently tilt your chin upwards, and he basks in the way you flinch from him, the alarm you seem so desperate to tamp down bleeding all over your lovely face. 

“And me?” you whisper. Would you kill me too, he reads in your eyes. 

“You really think so little of me?” he parrots back, sickly satisfied when your stricken expression stutters. “You’re my wife; I love you, you know that. Why would I go to all the trouble of making you mine just to throw you away so heartlessly?” 

He sees the flicker of confusion in your eyes, and the moment your lips part he’s kissing you, tamping down any protest. Devouring, though, would probably be a better word. Kissing to bruise, to hurt. To claim. Teeth harshly nipping at your bottom lip, Oikawa moans when he tastes the coppery tang of blood on his tongue. 

It’s not enough, though.

You make the mistake of trying to wriggle out of his hold, whining pathetically into the kiss, and the last meagre tether on his composure snaps. The desk is only feet away, but he doesn’t have the patience to drag you over to it when the wall is right fucking there. 

Breaking away, he grabs your sides and roughly spins you around, slamming you back against the door hard enough for a pained gasp to leave your lips.

“Tooru– Tooru, wait, please!”

No. He’s never been cruel to you – not how men can truly be cruel – tonight, though, he can’t be bothered caring about the tears spilling from your lashes or the panicked shriek you give when he hikes up the skirt of your dress and yanks your panties aside.

“I haven’t– I wouldn’t–” you keep babbling – he pays it no mind as he hurriedly frees his cock from his pants and lines himself up. 

“You’re mine,” he hisses, sheathing himself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust. “My pretty wife.”

Your cries are louder now, agonised and wailing, Oikawa’s long past the point of caring, though. His staff know better than to pry, and his men won’t intercede on matters between their Oyabun and his wife, no matter how loud you get. 

This is between you and him. 

“You think I don’t know about the texts you hide?” Another thrust. “The calls, late at night? Your disappearing act last week?” His hips clap against your backside, his pace vicious and unrelenting.

The dryness of your cunt makes it an unpleasant start, yet it hardly takes long before your syrupy slick begins to coat his length, easing his passage no matter how violently he pounds into you. 

And despite your whimpers and hitched pleas, how you struggle fruitlessly against him, the plush, velvety walls of your heat cling to his cock, sucking him deeper with each fevered stroke. He pushes himself closer to you, buries his face in your hair and breathes deep, relishing how you shake and tremble as he stuffs you full, your poor little pussy moulding to the shape of his dick. 

As if he can imprint himself permanently inside of you if he just fucks you well enough.

The door shakes against its stop every time he slams you against it, and that, plus your sweet sobs and the panting breaths you share, is almost enough to drown out the slick, gushing sound coming from your pussy and the rapid paps of his balls hitting your top of your thighs.

Almost, but not quite. 

He’ll never tire of fucking you, not when your cunt’s so warm and you feel this good squeezing and fluttering around him. Oikawa’d rather die than ever give this up, and with a fist tangled in your hair, he yanks your head back to whisper as much in your ear. Drags his hungry mouth over your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft, supple flesh for good measure. 

You shudder around him, and he groans in pleasure. His wife. His. 

“I haven’t… fucked him,” you gasp out, mewling as his cock hits a sweet spot, deep inside of you. “It’s not like that.”

His expression darkens, a scowl twisting at his lips at the mention of your would-be lover. “End it,” he snarls, “or I’ll kill him myself.”

—

Less than two weeks later, Oikawa's being driven to an important meeting when Iwaizumi’s phone suddenly blares to life.

He pays it no mind, content to let his oldest friend handle whatever issue has sprung up while he busies himself with retrieving his cigarette case from the breast pocket of his jacket. Flicking the silver lid open, Oikawa slips one out and mindlessly offers the case to Iwa – who ignores it entirely  – as he pats his other pockets in search of his lighter. 

“When?” 

He knows that flat tone all too well, and glances up sharply to find Iwa staring ahead, his jaw set, face grim. Whoever’s on the other end of the line speaks for a moment more, the volume too low for him to discern what they’re saying. Whatever it is seemingly does little to set Iwa at ease. 

“Fuck… Alright, get back to the house. Tell Makki and whoever else is there not to let her out of their sight ‘til we get back.”

“What is it?”

Iwa sighs, pocketing his phone and pressing the button to lower the partition between them and the driver, “There was a drive-by downtown fifteen minutes ago. Semi Takuma’s dead.”

—

For a man who once helmed one of Tokyo’s most formidable syndicates, your father’s funeral draws a pitifully small turnout.

Oikawa could blame the weather, the dreary grey sky and the rain clouds that show no sign of letting up for keeping mourners away. The truth of the matter, however, is simply that by the end of his life, Semi Takuma’s friends were few and far between. He recognises all bar a few of the faces in the crowd, most of them from his own family, there not to pay respect to the dead – the elder Semi inspired little of that – but in support of you, the beloved wife of their Oyabun. 

Clinging to his side under the awning, your face wet with fresh tears and eyes puffy and rimmed red from the countless that had come before. Perhaps the only true mourner in attendance. Not even your brother, standing stone faced at the temple doors, greeting those who’ve bothered to turn up, seems to be able to muster much grief for the man he called a father. 

Briefly, it occurred to him that you might’ve been the one behind the hit. A cold hearted, calculating move to be sure, still, even you must recognise what you’d stand to gain in removing a bargaining chip from the board.

Could you do it? Kill the man who raised you? Who loved you, and sold you like cattle to save his own skin despite it? You’re not like Oikawa, you’re not even like your brother; you’ve never had the heart for their kind of corruption. He’d never peg you as a killer, even via proxy, but… maybe he’d pushed you too far that night in his study. 

Desperate people do desperate things.

And yet Oikawa hadn’t come home that day to crocodile tears or smirking pride, only pain and heartbreak and clenched fists beating at his chest as you sobbed yourself hoarse and broke against him.

‘You promised! You promised you’d protect him!’

He’d taken the blows, held you tight until the tears subsided. Kissed you so tenderly as your fingers curled into his shirt and you buried your face above his beating heart. 

It’d be a lie to say that he cares one way or another about your father’s death beyond the implication of trouble brewing, but this – your sweet dependency, how desperate you’ve become for any semblance of comfort in his arms (however temporarily) – Oikawa wouldn’t trade this for the world. 

He sighs heavily, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “We gotta go in. It’s almost time.”

Finally, you lift your face, lips parting to say something, only to fall silent instead, your expression morphing into one of shock as you spy something over his shoulder. 

Oikawa turns sharply, following your gaze. Sure enough, standing under an umbrella near the old, wooden pillars by the temple gates is a dark haired man dressed in a black suit. Familiar, though when he racks his brain to try and place from where, he comes up with a blank. That in itself is enough to unsettle him. 

And while there’s nothing threatening in his stance, no obvious bump or crease in the line of his suit to suggest a concealed weapon, he knows better than to assume this stranger isn’t carrying, much less that he isn’t a possible threat. 

Oikawa hasn’t gotten to where he is today by ignoring his gut. 

“Tooru,” your voice is quiet. Hoarse. And though you clutch at his larger hand, tugging at it with insistence, he doesn’t budge. “Let’s go inside. Please, Tooru, I can’t– I can’t do this without you.”

Your father was not a well loved man, and they’ve yet to find any solid leads as to who’s responsible for the hit against him. If the man by the gate had so much as a hand in it–

He makes a snap decision. “Stay with Iwa,” he orders, prying his hand from your grip with what little gentleness he can muster. “If he tells you to do something, you do it.” Even as he spits the words, hears the sharp hitch in your breath as your fingers scrabble to keep their grip on him, his attention remains firmly fixed on the dark haired figure. 

Yet the stranger makes no move to enter the temple grounds, seemingly content standing in the rain under the cover of his umbrella, staring right back at Oikawa.

… No. Not at him, he realises after a beat. He’s staring at you. 

“Tooru, don’t!” you cry.

Two words. 

With a painful slowness, he turns back to look at you. Narrowed eyes sweeping across your face, studying it with a frightening intensity. You’ve never been able to hide your feelings from him; he can read you like a book, knows you like the back of his hand.

Your expression is twisted. Agonised, but not with the raw, aching grief you’ve succumbed to over the past few days.

It’s fear that shines in those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Panic.

Two words, a tightening grip, and Oikawa understands. 

“Please,” you beg, clutching at him desperately. “We’ll go inside and just forget all about this, okay? I told him not to come, I swear! I-I told him–”

You’re starting to hyperventilate, short, squeaking breaths shaking your frame. Like a bunny, cornered and frightened, cowering from the jaws of the big, bad wolf. 

He grins. Takes both of your trembling hands in his, lifts them to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of each. Kisses the glittering diamond atop your ring finger last of all. “Baby,” he purrs, silk over a razor’s edge, “Do what I tell you. Stay with Iwaizumi.”

His second is already there. Has been since the moment he clocked the interloper, maybe even before Oikawa did. Without a word he takes you from Oikawa, sweeps you back with a strong arm curled around your waist and holds you there, struggling pitifully against him. Mere feet away your brother watches on, jaw set, hands clenched into fists by his side, glaring at the both of them as you beg and cry softly in Iwa’s arms. 

Oikawa doesn’t even bother acknowledging his presence. Eita can glower and sneer all he likes, they both know he won’t interject. Not with this. Not against them.

Not even for you. 

Pulling his umbrella from the stand, Oikawa opens it with a flourish, spares you one last grin, and steps out into the lashing rain. 

“Relax, pretty girl. He and I are just gonna have a friendly chat, that’s all!”

The sound of your sweet begging follows him until distance and the rain drown them out. 

Closer now, he gets a better look at the man who fancies himself in love with you (and he’d have to be to risk coming here, knowing who your husband is).

His face is pretty enough, he supposes, fine, delicate features with eyes a piercing, gunmetal blue. His hair’s short, dark – messy and windswept – and yet the rest of his appearance; the well tailored suit, polished black oxfords, even the watch that pokes out from under his sleeve; they give the impression of someone put together. Methodical, even. 

He can’t be much older than Oikawa, if he’s older at all, and he stands a few inches shorter, his build perhaps a fraction slighter. And if the man has tattoos – if he’s from another syndicate – they’re covered as his are, hidden beneath his clothes. 

Unlike Oikawa, though, he isn’t smiling. 

“You know who I am.” 

It’s not a question, he doesn’t phrase it as such, however the dark haired stranger nods anyway; a short, sharp jerk of his chin. “Oikawa Tooru. I know plenty,” he replies bluntly. 

“Good,” he says. “Now, I have a funeral to get to, a grieving wife to comfort, so I’ll make this quick. Showing your face here today was a ballsy move, I’ll give you that, it was also incredibly stupid. See, the thing is; I love my wife. More than some little shit like you could possibly begin to understand, but I’d sooner chain her to our bed and break every bone in her fucking body than let her touch another man, much less leave with one.

“If I were you, I’d tuck tail and run. Find some other city, some other man’s wife to pant after, because if you don’t…” he trails off, finally dropping his charming smile, “I’m gonna take my time killing you, and I’ll make her sit through every last second.”

The stranger says nothing, expression carefully blank, save for the slight narrowing of his eyes. They shift, sliding past Oikawa to gaze at the temple – or more accurately, at you, watching the interaction unfold from the safety of Iwa’s grasp. 

After a moment, he looks back at Oikawa. “My condolences,” he says, and without another word, walks away.

—

Weeks ago, you’d stormed into his office, claws out and itching for a fight after finding out he was having you followed. 

When he brings you back in the days following the funeral and tells you that you’re not allowed to leave the comfort of the sprawling estate without him by your side, you simply stare at the rug by his feet and in a tight, controlled voice, ask why. 

Sighing, as if your refusal to meet his gaze physically wounds him, Oikawa takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently – lovingly – and leads you across the room to sit. Or, more accurately, he sits, and you somewhat reluctantly allow yourself to be tugged down onto his lap. “We still don’t know who killed your father, it’s not safe for you to be out there without me,” he murmurs, his palm grazing along your thigh in a false show of comfort. 

Not a lie per se.

“Can you blame me for being overly cautious, baby?” he asks, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of you – jasmine and vanilla, the faintest hint of citrus – has his blood stirring, sends a pang of heady want straight to his cock. God, he’d fucking lick it off of your skin if he could. “I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt,” his fingers creep up under your skirt, his lips littering the curve of your throat with soft little kisses, “I like knowing my beautiful, lovely wife is safe and sound at home, right where I left her.”

…Until one day, you aren’t.

Divorce papers, signed in your name lay atop the mahogany desk in his study. Your wedding and engagement rings carefully placed next to your signature; impossible for him to miss. 

Not a spur of the moment scramble for freedom, then.

The estate is eerily quiet. Not the calm before the storm. The blood on the gravel of his driveway, a stolen wife, Makki riddled with bullets – the storm’s already begun. Ripped its way through his home and family. This, this is the eye of it.

“How?” his voice is ice.

Kindaichi scowls, glaring at nothing in particular. He knows as well as Oikawa does; keeping an eye on you today was his responsibility, and in the wake of your disappearance–

“Bedroom window,” he admits with a frustrated huff. “She said she was tired and wanted to lie down for a bit. What was I supposed to do, follow her in there?”

Oikawa’s eyes flash, and Kindaichi’s jaw snaps shut. “And Makki?” he presses.

“Makki wasn’t supposed to be here. I dunno know why he showed up when he did. I guess he saw her running and tried to stop her and–” he breaks off abruptly, suddenly interested in looking anywhere except at the steaming Oyabun.

“… And?” Oikawa hisses, dropping the papers and rounding on his subordinate. “And what?”

“It was him. The guy Iwa says you’re looking for, the one you ran into at the funeral. Her–” he stumbles over the word, and changes tactics. “… He shot him. Came outta fucking nowhere.”

Fury rises up, choking at him as his blood roars, and for a moment, he can’t speak. Of course you hadn’t been the one to shoot Makki. You, who’d never so much as held a gun. You, who abhorred the more violent aspects of his life. You, who ran off with a fucking–

“Get out.”

He waits until the door shuts before fishing his phone from his pocket. Scours through his contacts until he finds the one he’s looking for. 

It rings once. Twice. Three ti–

“Oikawa,” Eita greets, and there’s something in that tone, beyond the irritating arrogance and barely concealed disdain he usually holds for his brother in law that has him narrowing his eyes. He sounds almost… pleased.

“… You knew,” he surmises after a beat. “You fucking knew?!”

Eita snorts. 

“Are you honestly surprised, Oikawa? Not so easy to keep your wife in line when your leverage gets gunned down in broad daylight, is it?”

Oikawa’s grip on his phone tightens, and he draws a sharp breath in through clenched teeth. “You think I won’t come after you?” he seethes. 

“You’re more than welcome to try, asshole. I watched you hold me and him over her head for too fucking long, watched you hurt her, try and break her. I’ve been waiting for this a long, long time.”

“Tell me where she is, Eita.”

Silence greets him, and when he pulls the phone from his ear, the call’s been disconnected. He swears viciously, tossing it aside. Planting both of his hands against his desk, Oikawa hunches over and breathes raggedly, waiting for the white haze of pulsing anger to abate.

You left him. You left him. You left him. You left him. You left him.

The rings you left behind stare mockingly back at him, and he makes his decision. Snatching them both up, he shoves them in his pocket and rounds the desk, yanking open the right hand drawer to grab the pistol he keeps stashed away in there.

With a cold focus, he slips out the magazine, checks the rounds and jams it back into position, cocking the slide to load it before tucking it in the back of his waistband.

He told you once what he’d do if you ever laid a finger on another man, the lengths he’d go to to keep you his. Told your trigger happy lover, too. 

What happens next; well, you can’t say he didn’t warn you.