#alleged wish granting

[hookaroo]

Laden of the Torn (8 of 25)

AO3 link Catch up on tumblr: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Tagging @priscilla9993 @cocohook38 <3

***

How could one man's nose, monstrous though it was, be responsible for such an ungodly racket? Tearing through the glass-peaked canyons, sound waves like a cross between an enraged hornet's nest and a shoal of frenzied mermaids rattled the slab acting as Killian’s backrest. It had seemed prudent not to stretch himself flat and expose more surface area to the brutally jagged terrain, but apparently, his total exhaustion was not enough to allow sleep in an upright position. And now this nonsense.

Killian gingerly shifted his weight, and even the scrape and rattle of chains as his heavy shackle skittered along the stone was muffled by Blackbeard's drunken droning. The ring of chafed skin beneath the band encircling Killian's ankle burned with the movement. If only he had his hook back, or even a sturdy dagger; perhaps then he could work one of the links out of shape to at least be rid of the ball’s encumbrance. But as he reached down, intent on sliding the metal higher and onto less irritated flesh, the chain clanked again and Blackbeard snorted awake. He didn't even bother to open an eye.

"Go to bed, Hook."

"I pity every last man on your crew," grumbled Killian in reply. "How many have been flogged for nodding off while on duty?"

Blackbeard's snoring resumed, even louder than before, and Killian sighed bitterly. The bastard had the most selective hearing he had ever witnessed.

A brief image flashed into his mind, that of himself using the blasted spherical anchor to bash the rival pirate's head in. But the chain was too short to accommodate a height of any more than an inch or two above the ringleted skull, and as he'd already discovered, the blood pulsing into his own injured head as he hunched over to lift the ball would soon have him faceplanting onto the razor rocks at his feet. Still, the thought was a tempting one.

“Just what the bloody hell are we doing here, anyway? Are you ever going to tell me, or do I have to figure it out all on my own?”

Grunting irritably, Blackbeard opened one eye and gave his captive a sideways glance. “What, so you can devise a way to escape? I don’t think so. I told you: I’m getting my money’s worth out of you.”

“And just how do you intend to do that, exactly? In case you hadn’t noticed, this is hardly the heart of high society, here. Do you even have a clue where we are?”

“Of course I do. The legendary Blackbeard is never lost.”

“Is that so?” Killian grinned tauntingly, though he certainly felt less than prepared for banter at the moment. “All right then. Prove it.”

With a hugely exaggerated eye roll, Blackbeard reached into an inner pocket. “Fine. If it will finally get you to shut up for once…”

He drew out a folded parchment and held it between his first two fingers, barely making any effort to angle it in Killian’s direction. Killian leaned stiffly closer and plucked the offering from his grasp.

“A treasure map,” he said as he unfolded the grubby bit of crumpled parchment. “That’s your grand scheme.”

“Give me at least some credit, Hook. I’m not likely to spend a small fortune on an expedition to nowhere.”

Killian still could not see anything to make him believe this was anything other than an ordinary treasure map. A complicated one, to be sure, with a maze-like route that undoubtedly purported to navigate them through the current mess of narrow canyons. No key provided any interpretation for the scattering of symbols marking the parchment. “Then where is this taking us?”

Killian immediately spotted some false confidence in Blackbeard’s demeanor as he snatched the map back.

“If the ancient tales of this place have any truth to them… we’ll soon have the pleasure of meeting some powerful magic-wielders; creatures with the ability to grant anyone their heart’s fondest desires.”

Dubious eyebrow raised, Killian settled back against the rock face. “Creatures? What, like mythical beasts?”

Blackbeard returned the map to his breast pocket. A hint of defensiveness colored his tone as he carefully replied,

“The legends tend to describe beings more… simian in shape.”

“Monkeys?” Killian scoffed. “Magical wish-granting monkeys? I always knew you were a wily devil, but I somehow missed the fact that you were also a madman.”

“Mock all you like; this ‘madman’ will soon be celebrating riches beyond your wildest dreams.” Blackbeard tilted his hat forward over his eyes and folded his arms, prepared to resume his slumber. 

“Aye? And what’s my role in all of this? Surely you could have moved faster without the burden of an unwilling traveling companion.”

“Did I forget to mention?” Blackbeard didn’t move, seemingly not interested in Killian’s reaction to his provocation. “The going rate for wishes in this land is a mere human sacrifice. A bargain, if you ask me. I hear the monkeys consider roasted human flesh a delicacy. Although your aged bones may need a bit of extra time on the spit to properly tenderize.”

Ignoring the gibe, Killian made no effort to conceal his skepticism. “All right, mate. Say for a moment that I believe you. Once we’re in the monkeys’ clutches, what’s to keep them from feasting on both of us? Seems a dangerous gamble for such an unlikely reward.”

“Not all of us are as jaded as you are, old man. These monkeys are moral creatures. They honor their deals.” He shifted his weight slightly. “Speaking of deals… I believe you now owe me a bit of quiet.”

Killian rolled his eyes, even though the other man couldn’t see. “You’ve a disturbing amount of faith in these nonsensical stories of yours.”

Blackbeard didn’t respond, and soon, the buzz-rumble had returned. 

Though he’d expressed so much doubt for the sake of appearances, Killian had too much life experience to dismiss the legends outright. Most folk tales had some element of truth to them, and even if the magical beings inhabiting this hostile land were not actual monkeys, he had no intention to treat them with anything but caution. Magic had never been particularly kind to him.

But what if they really could grant a heart’s desire?

***

“Watch yourself, Hook,” sneered Blackbeard from up ahead. Killian picked himself up yet again, inspecting the newest addition to the dozens of cuts and scrapes already adorning his elbows, knees, and hips. He glared at his nemesis, who was in much the same state, though due to the percentage of his blood that was actually alcohol, Killian doubted the other man could feel any of it.

“You don’t say,” gritted Killian. Blackbeard stumbled, but somehow remained upright. Killian made a note of the obstruction so he could avoid a similar incident.

Their second day of navigating the menacing canyons, Killian was already completely lost. Lingering wooziness did not help his sense of direction one bit. Blackbeard frequently consulted his map, purloined from gods-only-knew-where, allegedly leading to the cannibal, wish-granting monkeys fabled to live in this inhospitable location. But knowing the way and being able to traverse the terrain were two different things. And now they were running low on water.

The pair rounded a bend and came to a rare clearing, where the walls widened into more than the average arm’s length they had grown accustomed to seeing. In the center stood a gnarled, sickly tree, also an oddity since leaving the road. Blackbeard made a grunt of satisfaction and tucked the map into his pocket. 

“Over there, Granddad. Time to get well-acquainted with some tree bark.”

Grudgingly, Killian followed Blackbeard to the tree, watching as he fished a length of rope from his satchel. 

“Is this where your monkey friends live? Inside a decaying old tree? Doesn’t appear very magical to me.”

“Don’t worry; this is only a quick layover. We’ve quite a ways to go yet.” 

Killian engaged in a token struggle as Blackbeard grabbed his arm and shoved him back against the tree trunk, but secretly, he was glad of the opportunity to rest. His whole body ached, and his ankle was so chafed from the ball and chain that he wouldn’t have been surprised to find smears of blood beneath the iron band. 

“I don’t expect this to hold you for long,” Blackbeard commented, wrapping the rope around the trunk. He fashioned a quick noose with one end, slipped it around Killian’s neck, and then bound his hand with the other end. Now, too much movement of that arm would tighten the loop encircling his neck. “But it would be foolish to try and find your way out of here without this.”

He flashed the map in front of Killian’s face, then stuffed it back into the front of his coat. Cautiously testing his bindings and making no effort to disguise his movements, Killian growled,

“More foolish than peacefully accompanying you to my death?”

Blackbeard shrugged. “Try it, then. You have no chance of outdistancing me.” He rooted around in the bottom of his satchel for a moment and located Killian’s hook, sneering,

“Don’t want you getting your hand on this.”

Then, after also pulling out their empty waterskins, he tossed his satchel carelessly nearby. “If you do get the gumption to lose the ropes, feel free to clean yourself up. I’m off to fetch water. It’s a bit out of the way and it would take three times as long if I dragged your dead weight along with me.” 

He inspected his knots once more and then patted Killian condescendingly. “Be a good little sacrifice and stay put.”

Killian didn’t waste time watching Blackbeard swagger off; instead, he sank slowly to a seated position, careful to allow the rope enough slack that he didn’t choke himself along the way. Almost immediately, he located a protruding piece of bark and got to work loosening the knot securing his wrist. He didn’t expect his captor to have overlooked any means of self-defense in the satchel, but he was hoping a certain other item may have been deemed unimportant enough to be forgotten…

[sondheim-girly]

the knots in my stomach are back. I think I’m gonna try and take a break from tumblr tomorrow for my mental health, and just get updates from one of my irls.

[sytoran]

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟏

you, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. now, the goddess of lust, natasha, is going to grant you a wish. you could've had just about anything, but looking at the ethereal being before you, there's only one thing on your mind.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: hello, folks! this is the long-awaited goddess!nat fic for the milestone event! i am quite proud of this fic, ngl... got a bit too carried away with some parts ;)

word count: 2.5k

the milestone event | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

When you jumped in front of a speeding car to save a cat on the road, you had absolutely no clue that the cat was not, in fact, a cat.

This not-cat was a species of flerken, and it’s name was Goose. Flerkens were extremely dangerous alien creatures. At least, that’s what the Goddess of Galaxies, Carol Danvers, told you.

Trust me, meeting an intergalactic space goddess with a pet killing-machine (that looked awfully like a cat) was about as chaotic and unbelievable as you would imagine it to be.

—

“H-holy fuck!” you yelled, jumping in your seat, as a glowing woman materialised before your very eyes, in your shithole of an office. 

“I do not believe I am holy, even though I am a Goddess.” The woman stated, watching with curious eyes as you tittered over your split coffee. Lifting your laptop and muttering curses, then sifting through the messed up paperwork.

“You’re a what?” You asked distractedly, still panicking over the mess that is your desk. “My boss is actually going to murder me. Or maybe I’ll murder myself first. I am literally- Yeah, okay, how the fuck did you appear like that? And aren’t gods supposed to be like, really huge? You look kinda…… human.”

“I am a goddess.” Carol reiterated with slight annoyance. A literal extraterrestrial being was in front of your eyes, and the only thing you cared about was your damn coffee? 

“We are beings you could only ever fathom from the depths of your imagination, powerful beyond measure. Which is also why we can shapeshift to look like regular human beings, so we won’t scare the shit outta you. Which seems to have still happened.”

You let out a dry bark of laughter. Carol wasn’t sure if you thought she was funny or you were about to burst into tears.

“So, why did you decide to visit me, ever-powerful, omnipresent, all-mighty being?” You asked, half-sarcastically, half simply given up on life itself. The report you had been working on for nearly an hour had been ruined by the fiasco earlier. 

You dropped into your chair, kicking your feet up onto your desk. Loosening your black tie with a weary sigh, you looked at the Goddess’ eyes and continued. “I’m a nobody. I’m an overworked and underpaid attorney. I run on caffeine. I don’t know why or how you’re here, but I really–”

“You saved us. The Gods and Goddesses.” Carol interrupts, firm and unyielding. “We owe you, alright? You get one wish.”

“One wish, to get whatever it is you desire. Anything. Anything at all.”

—

Your story was absolutely one of zero to hero. From an ��underpaid and overworked attorney’, to having the fucking gods of the multiverse indebted to you, it seemed like a rather unorthodox situation.

“So… what do you want?” Carol had asked you. 

“Uhm, I don’t need anything,” you mumbled, fiddling with your loosened tie. “Like, it’s totally chill between us even if I saved your cat.”

Great. Real cool, Y/N. The middle school boys could never compare to your level of failed attempts at being cool.

“Goose is not a cat, alright?” Carol commented, offended. You mutter an apology. 

“So, what do you want?” she continued impatiently. “Humans thrive off greed. You mortals always want something. What is it, money? A fancy car? A boyfr– okay, not to be stereotypical, but you’re definitely not straight. So, women on your mind?”

You splutter at her outright but nevertheless true allegation. Carol gives you this blank stare that makes you feel stupid. 

“Well, I guess, as a woman, there’s something I do want,” you speak up after a while. Carol raises her eyebrows in interest. “Something I have wanted to try, you know.”

Leaning closer to whisper your deepest desire in the goddess’ ear, Carol’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline. Her impressed, intrigued, embarrassed, and taken aback emotions all morphed into one expression, almost steals a laugh from your lips.

—

“You want me to grant you a cock.”

The Goddess of Lust sits in her throne, a picturesque image of perfection, the statement falling from her lips with such ease. There’s a lilt to her voice you can’t decipher. You just nod, looking unfalteringly at the goddess, as if it was the most normal request in the world. 

The Goddess was slightly perturbed by your lack of, well, awe. There you were, standing in her grand palace, unfazed by the multi-million dollar chandeliers and gold-framed pictures, unfazed by her.

Natasha was just about the most exquisite sight people would kill to lay their eyes upon. Soft curls framed her delicately sculpted face like curtains to a stage, magnificent deep eyes and a more than well-endowed body to complement her pretty face. Her rose-gold dress of satins and sequins dripped with money. There was the thrall she exuded, of seduction so strong that had men and women falling to their knees.

Natasha was the Goddess of Lust for sakes, and the only thing you cared about was redeeming your wish?

She would’ve been annoyed, if not for how unfairly charming you were, standing with your hands in your pockets, a charming gentlemanly smile on your face.

“What kind of cock do you want?” Natasha resorts to ask, a playful smirk on her features. “I’ve seen some interesting ones over the years, intergalactic sex is far crazier than you would imagine. Ooh, do you want tentacles to-”

“Uh, no thanks.” You say hurriedly, a hand going out of your pocket to rub at your nose. It’s the first sign of discomfort or embarrassment Natasha’s seen from you. She grins. 

“Just a regular human one?” She clarifies, pouting at you slightly. 

“That’d be great, yeah.” You respond, back to smiling brightly. Natasha frowns. She knows that there’s something under that stupid gentlemanly facade you’re putting on. She’s craving to get a taste of it.

“What size?” The Goddess asks bluntly, like a Starbucks barista asking for your order on a Monday morning.

“A regular size would be fine, I suppose.” You respond in kind, nodding to yourself assuredly. Natasha winks at you. “Ah, a regular size, I see.”

Before you can decipher that cryptic response, the Goddess stands up, a pillar of superiority and authority. She snaps her fingers, and you’re being pushed back into a fancy chair. Where did the chair come from, anyway?

You forgo the answer to that question as the Goddess begins what you would assume to be the procedure. “Sit tight.”

A surge of pain presses against your crotch area, and you almost keel forward in shock, but the pain goes as quickly as it comes. 

“Wait….. that’s it?” You ask, almost disbelievingly. Natasha nods proudly.

You look down, hands resting on your belt buckle. 

You look up at the Goddess, and she only smirks. 

You pull down your pants in swift fashion, letting out a quiet ‘whoa’ at the bulge in your boxers. It definitely feels bigger than would be regular, but then again you don’t have much knowledge of a man’s cock per se.

“Thank you,” You say, pleased with the results. Trying something new in the bedroom would definitely bring more life to your desolate days.

All too quick for the Goddess’ liking, you’re putting your clothes back on and getting ready to leave. “Thanks for your help,” You say calmly, turning to walk down the long passageway.

God, you just wanted to watch her fall apart.

As you walk, you feel Natasha’ eyes burning holes through your back. Oh, the tension was palpable, building with each step you took. It was getting harder to walk, with Natasha’s thrall like a heavyweight on your shoulders, willing you not to leave.

As you stand before the tall doors, you come to a standstill. Natasha waits in her throne with bated breath, so many words fighting to fall from the tip of her stubborn lips.

Your hand pushes down on the door handle, and that’s the last thing you can do before Natasha snaps her fingers again, and the tension is broken like a snapped coil. Suddenly, you’re pressed against her, looking into her dilated pupils.

“You’re so annoying, you know? I’ve been so fucking horny, looking at you this whole time, and you were about to get up leave?” Natasha asks, her tongue coming out to dart at her pink lips. Her hands have grasped your forearms, but your hands are cinched around her waist, disabling movement.

“No,” you breathe, head moving down to trail open-mouthed kisses along the column of her poised neck. “I was waiting for you.” The Goddess throws her head back under your fleeting touch. 

“Fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles, and you smirk against her skin. You’re rough with her, too, knowing that she isn’t made of glass, sucking purple marks into the pale skin of her neck, shoving your knee between her legs to spread them wider.

“Too much clothes,” Natasha breathes, and then with a burst of magic you’re stripped bare of any article of clothing. Her hands fly to your cock instantaneously, wrapping her delicate fingers around your semi-hard member.

You grunt against her skin, struggling to find a better position to properly have her. Since she’s sitting in the throne and you’re bent over above her, you can barely have her the way you want. Due to your lack of magical power, you resort to doing things the hard way.

Your hands slide under Goddess’ dress, going under her thighs, and then manhandling her up. Natasha’s whines of disapproval turn on deaf ears as you sit yourself in the grand chair, plopping her onto your lap. You don’t miss the way her thighs are already slightly damp.

“Need you inside now, fuck,” Natasha growls into your skin, climbing onto your cock as your hands squeeze at her thighs. You proceed to rip the fabric off her skin, deciding that there’s too much clothing restricting you from getting your hands on her.

And boy, was that a sight you’d never forget. 

“Oh!” The Goddess cries, when you lean forward to wrap your lips around her hardened bud. Your hands don’t rest for a moment, squeezing everywhere – hips, thighs, breasts, ass — whatever you can get your hands on. She’s fucking exquisite.

The stimulation seems to work wonders for Natasha’s pleasure, as she engulfs your cock in her warmth with fervour.

You gasp lowly, a throaty sound escaping your lips. Her hips and ass go up and down, working her cunt around the girth of your cock, wet and warm and slick. You can barely keep up with how desperate she is, and the fact that you have this wonder of a woman falling apart at your hands makes your heart soar.

Matching the rhythm of short upward thrusts with Natasha’s riding makes her moan out loud, a pretty melodious sound that imprints itself into your brain all at once. You wanna hear it a hundreds of times more.

Natasha gets more messy with her riding, as you suck hickeys, light ones and fierce ones, into her collarbone and her neck and breasts. You can’t resist the urge to slap her on the ass as she rides you like it’s the last day she’d be on this universe.

“Ah!” The Goddess moans, and you grip her thighs and push her down hilt deep, and her eyes roll into the back of her head. You feel her cum around your cock, so needy and desperate and mindless, and that triggers your own climax. 

Natasha hadn’t even begun to open her eyes again before she ends up on the floor and you hovering above her, your hands fervently spreading her cunt open. You duck your head down, licking a long stripe up her puffy clit. 

The Goddess writhes, unintelligible moans falling from her lips as you proceed to give her the best fucking cunnilingus of her life.

You’re more than determined to make this an unforgettable experience for the Goddess who probably had sex every other day. 

Natasha doesn’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your tongue, but you’re ravenous and your carnal desire makes her even wetter than before.

She’s slept with plenty of people, human or not, but none of them had ever been this uncouth about her pussy. Oh, it nearly drove her mad, but she was already seeing stars.

Before the Goddess registers what’s happening, your hardened cock slides into her cunt with a flippant ease once again. Natasha lets out a filthy moan as she feels it throb inside her, clenching around you hard.

You slap her thigh in retaliation, but feeling the sudden strike of pain only turns her on further. “Gonna fill you up so good,” you pant. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” 

Natasha takes it as a promise, when you spread her thighs and line your cock up with her pussy. The Goddess of Lust doesn’t think she’s ever wanted anyone this bad.

You enter her roughly, your previously calm exterior completely faded away. You fuck her deeper with each thrust, opening the Goddess up. Pounding into the woman’s cunt like a woman starved, you hear her beg and cry with each thrust.

“Oh, please! More! More!” The Goddes cries, nearly screaming your name every time your blunt head pushes against her cervix. You only get spurred on further, going at a pace so painfully fast you don’t know if you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

You swallow at the sight of this Goddess, completely breathtaking in her state of unravelling. 

“My divine Goddess,” You say, leaning down to press a kiss against the bulge of your cock at her lower stomach. 

Those words in itself have Natasha uncoiling before you, your name falling from her lips like a sacred mantra. Her walls are wrapped around your cock so tight, her nails digging into your back so hard it nearly draws blood.

“My divine Goddess,” you repeat, eyes glazed over, reaching your own climax inside her. Natasha lets out a filthy moan, feeling each throb of your cock in her as walls of cum pulse inside her, again and again. 

God, it feels so good, everything everywhere all at once, your world becoming Natasha, Natasha, Natasha. 

You think you could stay like this forever.

—

A long bath and a trip to the Goddess’ bedroom later, you’re laying on her expensive silk sheets, hair smelling like rosemilk or whatever that shampoo had been called.

You honestly don’t know how this gorgeous woman’s been charmed by your awkward humour and the coffee stain on your work shirt, but you’re definitely not complaining as she nuzzles into your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You sure that’s the first time you’ve ever had a cock?”

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[aurae-rori]

DR RATIO ANALYSIS

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!

I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).

OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.

Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?

His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.

Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.

Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.

Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!

Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.

The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.

Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.

His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed. 

In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.

Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?

The invitation never comes.

And then, comes the doubt.

What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset). 

However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now? 

Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot. 

OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!! 

Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its. 

However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war. 

TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society. 

Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius. 

Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK. 

Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:

Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*. 

Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.

*muffled ix noises*

I see, I see.

The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!

Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before: 

Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation. 

Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree? 

However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…

Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….

Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!

We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help. 

I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.

“Don’t do love, don’t do friends

I’m only after success

Don’t need a relationship

I’ll never soften my grip”

Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else. 

“Don’t want cash, don’t want card

Want it fast, want it hard 

Don’t need money, don’t need fame

I just want to make a change

I just wanna change, I just wanna change” 

This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible. 

“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine

I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!” 

Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that. 

“One track mind, one track heart

If I fail, I’ll fall apart

Maybe it is all a test

‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst

So I always act like I’m the best” 

Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know? 

“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die” 

Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh? 

All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?” 

To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how. 

“What you’re gonna be 

It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see

And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe

My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy

It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”

Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own. 

“High achiever, don’t you see? 

Baby, nothing comes for free

They say I’m a control freak

Driven by a greed to succeed

Nobody can stop me” 

Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society. 

Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3

[gregrulzok]

Devil's Minion is an interesting title though, isn't it.

I mean one of them is a creature designed and all but required to kill. He could eat animals, technically, but we know that isn't sustainable long term - even Louis, who genuinely tried it, wanted it so bad, couldn't keep the diet up for long. That's just not sustainable for their bodies, not what they were made for.

And the many long centuries of isolation, many long centuries of being unable to go out during the day, to talk to people without raising suspicion - and the changing of times, watching the culture shift and drift away from you without being able to fully follow it... Anyone would be distant from humans, from humanity, it's a shift in the psyche supported from every angle to make you view people as prey rather than equals.

And then the other? Human. A guy. He had relatives, friends, probably. He's more than likely lost people before, knows the grief of death far more intimately than a being designed to take two or three lives in a day ever could.

And yet, night after night, he holds the hunter in his arms. Cuddles up to him, ignores the fact that any warmth in his lover cost another human being their life. He ignores the pain and suffering they went through despite being fully equipped to understand it, ignores the grief and heartache he knows their close ones must be feeling - more than that, he takes pleasure in it! He drinks the blood of the monster, for no reason other than his own pleasure, and he tastes in it the wails and screams and desperation of those that were killed for it, and he's addicted to it. He wants more. He craves it, needs it.

More than THAT, even, he wants nothing more than to be part of it. To have the power to take human lives, to be the same as the alleged devil. Armand had no choice in the matter, not really, and has no choice but to kill - Daniel wants it, more than anything, he's constantly preoccupied with it, begs for it over and over and over.

.

And on the other hand, it's Daniel who gets his wishes granted. Daniel who can point at anything he wants and have it in his possession the next moment. Sure, he has to follow Armand's whims and impulses, teach Armand, follow him everywhere, but at the end of the day Armand is serving Daniel as much as he is himself, if not more.

And it's Armand who has to, through arguments and tears and heartache, defend what he sees as the one boundary he set in the relationship. The one line he has begged Daniel over and over again not to try to cross, Daniel has to test again and again.

He'll do anything for Daniel, anything, except for the one thing that would hurt him most - and its still not enough.

...

Devil's Minion, huh.

[theres-a-body-here]

Got No Human Grace

Mohg x Male!reader

A/N: My beautiful, scrumptious, pookie bear beat the mohglester allegations. Me and my homies all hate MIquella the Tiquella.

As Mohg clung to you, his large frame shook, bearing numerous wounds and smeared in blood. His once regal garments were now tattered rags, and two of his horns laid broken beside him.

Despite this, there was a calm silence around you both, interrupted only by Mohg's muffled sobs and heavy breaths.

"I… I feared you wouldn't come…" His muffled voice shook, lips quivering as he pressed into your chest, clutching onto you fiercely.

His mind is his own again.

"Shh, it's alright now." You murmured, wrapping your arms protectively around him. Your fingers gently caressed his back in a calming rhythm. "You're safe now."

As you spoke, you could feel Mohg's breathing slowly return to normal against your chest. However, upon hearing the crunch of debris nearby, you lifted your head to look at the person who had helped make this reunion possible.

A heavily armored Tarnished stood before you, her weapon sheathed and her armor battle worn. She gazed down upon the scene indifferently, seemingly unfazed by the display of affection between you and Mohg.

"Thank you, truly… It won't be forgotten." You assured her sincerely, eyes glancing warmly towards her before returning to look down upon Mohg's fragile form cradled within your arms.

However, it seemed that perhaps requesting privacy might be too much to ask for.

The armor-clad Tarnished remained standing before you, staring at the two of you

It can be helped, it seems.

With a gentle motion, you pulled away from holding Mohg close momentarily and reached into your pocket. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, you produced a small flesh trinket in the jagged, vague image of femininity.

You held it delicately between your thumb and index finger, presenting it openly toward the Tarnished.

"Here, consider this a token of gratitude for your assistance today," you offered politely.

As you handed the trinket over to the warrior, Mohg's grip on you tightened slightly but made no attempt to move or react otherwise.

Septic Womb

"My Dearest, I'll find a way to grant you your wish. The Mohgwyn Dynasty shall have its heir"

An idol used in fertility rites of the Formless Mother.

Restores HP when blood loss occurs in the vicinity.

The Tarnished woman took the fleshy charm without a word of thanks, examining it briefly before slipping it away inside her armor.

She continued observing you silently for a while before casting her gaze over to where he lay dormant within his cocoon.

"Listen closely," You cautioned with urgency in your voice, grasping tightly onto Mohg as if to shield him from the very mention of Miquella's name. 

"I seek no vengeance, nor do I wish to pursue further conflict. I beg of you...leave Miquella untouched!" There was desperation lacing each word as they rolled off your tongue, pleading.

Your warning fell on deaf ears as the warrior paid no attention to your pleas, remaining silent and fixated on the distant figure sealed within the fuzzy cocoon.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as realization settled in; her intentions were never about granting aid or salvation. They were merely self-serving, exploiting opportunities to become Elden Lord.

She was a Tarnished, after all.

You watched as the warrior began to approach the distant cocoon containing the Demigod which seemed to draw her here like a moth to light.

If she wanted to play games involving divinity, that was her choice, however misguided. Right now, though, you had more pressing matters to deal with.

Mohg hadn't moved an inch since nestling against your chest, soft sobs still escaping him periodically.

"Hush now," you whispered gently, cradling his massive head between your hands as you tilted it upward towards yours. Your thumbs brushed at the damp fur from underneath his eyes while your palms rested on each side of his face.

Leaning forward, you kissed his forehead gently, then proceeded to pepper sweet kisses all over his face, even pressing a particularly long peck to the horn in his left eye.

A soft whimper escaped him, hungry for more contact as he nuzzled deeper into your embrace.

With his large hands, he kneaded at your body, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. What he missed.

He released a throaty groan as soon as your lips met his in a kiss, his mouth opening slightly as his hot breath mingled with yours.

His large hands drifted beneath your robe, blazing trails of hot fire across your skin as they traveled upwards, heat blooming throughout your entire body.

As he pulled away from your lips, Mohg looked up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he tugged you closer until your bodies melded together.

He rocked his hips into yours, grinding firmly against you to let you know that he was hard as steel.

"We have much to catch up on…" He practically purred at you, squeezing your waist possessively, prompting a lustful groan to escape your mouth involuntarily.

Your brain short-circuited from the sensation, causing you to let out a meek response.

"W-we do…"

[hoeneymilktea]

deciphered ✧ tooru oikawa chapter 5 | rescuing sly fox

Your cousin, Hajime Iwaizumi—whom you haven't seen in a long time, invited you to support him at the largest street racing event in Tokyo. He told you he was a part of the Seijoh Brawlers, one of the notorious top five gangs affiliated with the underground street racing scene. Once he introduced you to his leader, Tooru Oikawa, a.k.a. Cypher—your interest piqued, curiously wanting to understand the true meaning behind his alleged nickname.

✧ pairing — tooru oikawa / afab reader ✧ genre — erotica/smut, action romance, crime romance, dark romance (absolutely no dv/sa), psychological thriller, crime/detective mystery ✧ rating — very explicit, 18+ mdni ✧ chapter word count — 7.9k ✧ content warnings — violence, street racing, references to drugs, explicit sexual content, heavy angst. see below break for chapter specific warnings ↴

author's note — This fanfic is inspired by the beautiful and amazing fanart of Street Racer AU Tooru Oikawa. Artist is @aikk00. disclaimer — I do not condone the romanticization of the yakuza or the reality of gang life as I intended not to portray that kind of interpretation, nor promote the activity of illegal street racing. Do not seek out these types of experiences as this work is just a piece of fiction. Please remember to read at your own risk.

renegade nights ⇠ rescuing sly fox ⇢ shower thoughts

✧ chapter specific content warnings: heavy violence, murder, blood, guns, minor character death(s), mentions of kidnapping and ransom

"I have to go right now, I have important business to do with DK."

"Now?" You panicked as he dropped the news on you so quickly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." He pitied, stroking the sides of your thighs with his thumb. "I'm having Leia take you back to my condo."

You watched both Kuroo and Oikawa roll out of the parking lot, the sound of their engines roaring through the street. Kuroo led in front while Oikawa followed closely behind, their red tail lights disappearing into a corner as they furthered their distance from Haiba Ramen.

Two Hours Prior — Cypher & DK

Oikawa grabbed the handheld radio transmitter from his glove compartment and flipped the switch on with his thumb. A static noise erupting from the device before it connected, granting him access to Kuroo's radio. "DK, you there?"

"Copy, Cypher." Kuroo's deep voice rattled through the small voice box.

"Follow you?" Oikawa asked as he pressed the small button on the side of the radio. He watched the bright red Nissan 350Z turn a sharp corner, entering into the Shuto Expressway.

"Roger." Kuroo's responded before he ended the line with a beep from the speaker. Oikawa saw him stick his right hand out of his window, two fingers motioning forward onto the road ahead.

While dropping his handheld radio transmitter on the passenger seat, Oikawa gripped the top of his steering wheel and curled his fingers around the edge of the leather. He glanced down at the middle console for a second, realizing you had left one of your personal belongings in his car. It was a small lip balm, securely tucked inside one of his cupholders.

His mind began to flood with the thought of you and your safety, wishing the double date between all four of you earlier should not have ended so abruptly, but unfortunately some situations took priority over others. To Oikawa, this was one of those situations.

When Kuroo called him over to talk back at Haiba Ramen, Oikawa thought it was going to be another fight on the streets as it was common between them both to settle disputes out. Though, once he saw the same despondent and worrisome look Kuroo rarely gave unless things were out of hand, he knew exactly what was to come.

Kuroo showed a picture of Shinsuke Kita—a.k.a. Sly Fox, tied up in a wooden chair that was rotten all over, handcuffed to the bars behind with his mouth gagged from a green bandana around his face. It was taken and sent by members of the Nohebi clan, a rival yakuza group to the Sakanosita clan that had a personal vendetta against Kuroo, Oikawa and Kita.

Underneath the picture was an accompanied text of Kita's address—the abandoned warehouse that previously belonged to the Sakanoshita family. It once housed all illegal trades and businesses, but now has been left abandoned after the head boss of the Sakanoshita clan passed away.

"Around the corner, in a few. Wait for my call." His handled radio beeped again with the sound of Kuroo's voice.

In the distance was the infamous Sakanoshita warehouse, situated on the brink of the Tokyo Freight Terminal, disguised as several shipping containers stacked together for privacy with a titanium roof. Unless you were working directly under the Sakanoshita clan, most employees in the pier never knew it was a hotspot destination for storing and transporting their contraband to different locations around Japan.

The Sakanoshita family had every political institution wrapped around their finger, and the Tokyo Police Department was no exception. Every illegal business and trade operated on the Tokyo Freight Terminal, as it was also the place Oikawa and Kuroo met for the first time while dealing.

Thinking back to that treacherous memory and his previous dangerously impulsive actions, Oikawa clenched his teeth and tried his best to bury it in the back of his mind. It was best that way, he assumed. He didn't want it to cloud his current judgement, but he found it difficult to withhold the trauma from resurfacing.

He watched Kuroo and his 350Z roll up on the outside of the warehouse and stop right in front of the entrance. The headlights of his car flashed directly on Kita's black Nissan Silvia parked on the side, his bumper scraped up and dented with a broken window on the passenger side door.

Oikawa grabbed the walkie talkie and pressed his thumb against the side button. "DK, slowly. Try your best to not make too much noise going in."

"Roger, Cypher."

Oikawa threw the small radio back onto the passenger seat again, hearing a beep as it plopped down. He placed his right hand on the top of the steering wheel and his left hand on the gear shift, switching it to first. He followed Kuroo as he parked right next to Kita's Silvia, making sure the low rumble of his car was the quietest he could possibly make it.

He watched Kuroo turn off the ignition and flicker his headlights shut. Oikawa did the same, clicking the keys backwards and completely turning off his engine. Once he dimmed his headlights, he turned to Kuroo on his right, waiting for a signal.

Oikawa didn't mind that Kuroo took the lead—he usually did when all three of them went on operations and discreet jobs for the Sakanoshita family. Even when Mr. Sakanoshita died, all three of them remained partners for all underground deals and businesses. Despite the street racing gang rivalry façade they put on with one another, nonetheless they knew when business meant business in all kinds of its forms and they all worked well with it.

Kuroo stepped out of his vehicle and closed his door quietly before Oikawa followed suit and placed his keys in the back pocket of his jeans. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment again and took out his gunmetal pistol, quickly loading the magazine with the accompanied bullets. He loaded each bullet individually with precision—his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pinched as he focused carefully.

Once Oikawa pushed the magazine back into the pistol and cocked the slider, he looked to the left again—your little lip balm resting in the cupholder. Oikawa sighed and reached over to grab it before inspecting the tiny thing, including the labels and the flavor—basically anything he could read that could distract him just for a moment.

He uncapped it and brought it to his mouth with a smile, swiping it across his bottom lip. Oikawa knew that using your lip balm would have made you upset, but he wanted one last reminder of you that brought peace to his mind—knowing after this was all over he would be with you again, wrapped safely in his arms.

He quickly placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before grasping the door handle and swinging his car door open, stepping one foot at a time on the wet asphalt riddled with moss and ocean salt.

Oikawa flinched, knowing his expensive sneakers were to be defiled by the filth of the ocean scum and the oxidized copper embedded in the asphalt, including the scuffs and blood splattered on that he was expecting later as well.

He gently closed his car door and locked the RX-7, making sure only the locks clicked without the beep. Oikawa could feel the cool spring air breeze against his skin as he was left in his white t-shirt, remembering he let you keep his bomber jacket. He glanced over at Kuroo leaning on the edge of his car, hands placed in his red cargo pants while looking down at his shoes.

"What d'ya need that for?" Kuroo asked after he glanced up, his eyes pointing in the direction of Oikawa placing the pistol on his hip, straddled between his jeans and his white t-shirt.

"You never know." Oikawa replied in a monotonous voice, knowing that Kuroo knew exactly why he had the pistol beside him.

"Cypher, we're not trying to kill anyone here, we're only here to negotiate." Kuroo crossed his arms as he stared at Oikawa. "We could face serious consequences if this gets out of hand."

He didn't respond immediately as he walked past Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the entrance of the warehouse. Without turning his head back, Oikawa scoffed, shaking his head slightly. "You trust people too easily."

Kuroo followed closely behind with a switchblade in his hand, ready for anything. Oikawa questioned why he didn't keep a gun on him in case of emergencies as Kuroo knew better than to bring a knife to a gunfight. Nonetheless, he was right—if the situation becomes out of hand, consequences are to be faced in the future.

Once reaching the entrance of the warehouse, they pressed their backs up against the cold titanium exterior of the shipping containers, sneakily peeping their heads into the void of the room. Kuroo looked in first, placing a lone finger up to his lips as he commanded Oikawa to be quiet.

The atmosphere grew heavier as it became harder for them to breathe. Oikawa cocked the pistol, placing both of his hands on the handle, one finger resting on the right side of the trigger.

Kuroo had his switchblade ready before he walked in discreetly, Oikawa following closely behind. The first thing they noticed was the eminently dark interior of the warehouse with empty boxes, unused oil barrels and blood stained plastic tables pushed to the sides of the walls. Yet, what caught their attention was the single lightbulb slightly swinging above Kita's unconscious body tied to a rotten oakwood chair.

Kuroo instantaneously rushed to his side as Oikawa pointed his gun around the warehouse, one eye closed as he tried his hardest to look out for any of the Nohebi clan members hiding in the dark.

"Sly Fox," Kuroo whispered as he tapped on Kita's cheeks a few times to wake him up. "Sly, it's me, DK."

Kita's face was bruised and beaten—his lip split open and swollen to the touch while scratches and lacerations scattered his face. He was bleeding from his forehead as dried blood scattered his left eyelid, a black eye resting on his right. His hands were tied behind the rotten bars of the wooden oak chair, his fingers broken and bleeding as his frail wrists were slit with the rough rope tied around them.

Kuroo placed his hand on the back of Kita's damp hair, the ends of his locks dripping of sweat, blood and grime. His whole head flung back, his lips parted as Kuroo tried to wipe the fresh blood off his lips with his thumb.

Oikawa lowered his gun down to help Kita, holding him still as Kuroo pulled out his switchblade to untie his hands. He looked down at Kita again, his infamous Inarizaki Bois hoodie slashed open across his chest, exposing a large wound on his torso. His snake tattoo poked out from his chest, the eyes of the animal crossed out with two puncture wounds.

"Hold Sly Fox still while I untie his hands." Kuroo commanded before crouching behind the oakwood chair. Oikawa placed his hands behind Kita's head, holding him up.

"Sly, hang in there." He comforted, looking straight at Kita's desolate and pitiful expression as he laid unconscious. Kuroo flipped open the blade and quickly sawed the bondage around his wrists, cutting open the knot as the ends of the rope frayed.

Oikawa hovered his hand over Kita's mouth to make sure he was still breathing while Kuroo cut the last of the knots, freeing his wrists. They both flung Kita's arms up and around Kuroo's shoulders, positioning his body behind his back as he carried him off the chair.

Kita released a guttural sound in the back of his throat as his eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting out of unconsciousness. Oikawa patted his cheek several times, looking at his face resting behind Kuroo's shoulder.

"Sly, you okay?" Oikawa asked, peering down at Kita as he mumbled incoherently.

"Mmhmm... t-t-ta..." Kita mumbled as his mouth drooled on Kuroo's shoulder.

"Sly," Oikawa placed his left hand on his knee while he waved his right hand over Kita's eyes.

"Trap," he whispered, his eyes shot wide open as his expressionless face transformed into a panicked frown. Kita's hazel eyes shifted to the left as his breath hitched, his lips quivering against the cold air.

"It's a trap!"

"What is he talking—"

Boom.

Oikawa had been cut off by a loud gust of gunshots echoing throughout the air, shooting in all directions of the warehouse. Both Oikawa and Kuroo instantly dropped down to the floor, placing their hands over their heads to protect their ears.

Kuroo winced as Kita crushed over his figure, the weight of Kita's body pushing down onto his lungs. His cough was overshadowed by the rounds of gunfire shooting throughout the air. He glanced at Oikawa, begging for his help as Kita fell unconscious again.

Oikawa noticed Kita's gun holstered around his calf, sticking out from the bottom of his black jeans. He shuffled on the ground, pulling his body up by his forearms before he scrunched back the hem of his jeans on Kita's left leg. He reached his hand up and grabbed the gun from the strap, pulling out a clean and sleek all-black pistol.

Kita's gun was heavy and loaded with his moniker initials "S.F." engraved in the front. Oikawa pushed it across the floor with his leg and watched it spin on the concrete floor, letting Kuroo grab the handle as he quickly placed it in between his black tank top and red cargo pants.

"Give me your blade, now!" Oikawa loudly whispered, placing his hand out in front of Kuroo's face. He obliged and twirled the switchblade from his hand on the concrete towards Oikawa's direction. Before he grabbed the handle and locked the blade back, Oikawa shoved it into his back pocket and placed his hands back onto his head.

The gunshots stopped for a moment before Oikawa noticed seven men step out of the darkness behind a stack of shipment boxes in the corner of the warehouse. They all wore dark green suits and black shades—a wretched aura wafting from their crooked smirks.

The one in the middle stepped up forward and removed his black sunglasses, slicking back his dark hair to reveal his thin, snake-like eyes. Oikawa couldn't believe it, he was so sure he'd never see him again—

"Tooru Oikawa. Tetsurou Kuroo. You fuckers."

Oikawa furrowed his eyebrows as he looked up to see Suguru Daishou of the yakuza Nohebi clan—a.k.a. Fangs —hovering above him, hissing under his breath while placing his hands in his pockets. At the snap of his fingers, two of the men beside Daishou instantly rushed to Oikawa, Kuroo and Kita on the floor.

"Fangs, you son of a bitch—fuck!" Oikawa groaned as one of the men stomped directly on his back, digging the bottom of his heel against the crook of his lumbar, firmly placing all of his weight on Oikawa's body beneath him. He closed his eyes and winced when the man tied his hands together with rough-textured rope, deliberately scratching the fabric against his wrists.

He looked over at Kuroo, who was already restrained by one of the other men—his hands tied behind his back with the exact same rope. Kita laid unconscious on the floor beside him, his cheek pressed against the concrete with his limbs twisted in multiple directions.

"After all these years, I've finally caught you both." Daishou slowly made his way over to Oikawa struggling underneath the yakuza henchman's grip on his body. He looked down at Oikawa, giving an ominous smirk before kicking him straight in the face. "You thought you guys could get away with what you fucking did?"

The tip of Daishou's shoe slammed against the edge of Oikawa's jaw, dislodging a joint on the left side of his mandible. Oikawa closed his eyes and groaned, ejecting bloodied phlegm from his mouth.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself before coughing profusely, struggling underneath Daishou's grip before looking up at him grin from ear to ear.

"You both make me sick. After what you guys did to Mika, you both deserve more than death itself." Daishou kicked Oikawa in the jaw again, instantly satisfied by the wails of anguish underneath his foot.

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Kuroo coughed as the yakuza henchman stepped further on his back, digging his heel deeper against his spine.

"My Mika, you fucking killed her."

"Sorry sweetheart, but I don't know who the fuck you're talking about." Kuroo sarcastically retorted before the yakuza henchman stomped his other foot on his head, smashing his cheek against the filthy concrete floor. Kuroo let out a disdained low grunt, instantly shutting his mouth closed.

"Maybe this will jog your memory, you piece of shit." Daishou pulled his own pistol out from his waist, aiming it towards Kuroo.

"Wait! Wait! Hold the fuck on! I legitimately don't know what the fuck you're talking about! Who the fuck is Mika?!" Kuroo squirmed underneath the yakuza henchman's grip, who had already drawn his own gun at Kuroo's head.

Oikawa gulped hard as his eyes widened, knowing who and what exactly happened to Daishou's beloved girlfriend, Mika Yamaka.

He could remember it like it just happened yesterday. Somehow, just like every other memory he tried to suppress, it became buried in the back of his mind until it was mentioned once again—only to infiltrate every crevice of his brain and trigger an intense traumatic reminder of who Oikawa was in his past.

Leia's father, Mr. Sakanoshita, secretly called Oikawa over for a meeting. He thought it was another transporting job as all of the work he had done under Mr. Sakanoshita were small side operations transporting the large shipments of whatever latest contraband he purchased and imported at that time. Yet, this particular job was very, very different from the usual.

Once Oikawa sat down, he realized he was the only one in the meeting beside Mr. Sakanoshita himself. Usually Kuroo, Kita and Leia sat in as well, as the four of them would go on transportation operations frequently together . Unfortunately for Oikawa, that meeting was not one of those jobs.

Regarding how much of a terrible man Mr. Sakanoshita was—he had the idea of ransoming his rival yakuza clan in Tokyo, the Nohebi, out of billions of yen. He asked Oikawa to kidnap Mika Yamaka, the girlfriend of the Nohebi clan's leader, Suguru Daishou.

Oikawa hesitated at first; he hadn't kidnapped someone before on his own, much less an innocent woman. Though, due to his previous affiliation with the yakuza in Osaka, Mr. Sakanoshita looked into Oikawa's time serving as the leader of his own section. He was involved in multiple heists, kidnappings and murders of several men held for ransom instructed by the boss of the Kitagawa Daiichi. This job wouldn't have been new for him, and Mr. Sakanoshita knew that.

He was about to decline his offer before Mr. Sakanoshita shined a bright one-hundred million yen in front of him—all paid and given before he even did the job itself. At the time, Oikawa relied only on his side deals, street racing bets and the Seijoh Brawlers' tune shop for cash, so this new influx of money really sealed the deal for him.

Before accepting Mr. Sakanoshita's offer, Oikawa asked about why he hadn't proposed the job to Kuroo instead as he was loyal and much closer to the Sakanoshita family than he was. In fact, Kuroo was the one to give Oikawa the chance to work underneath the Sakanoshita Clan in the first place when he arrived in Tokyo.

Mr. Sakanoshita had a suspicion that Kuroo had been hiding things behind his back and compromising his loyalty to the clan. Although he knew Kuroo was with Leia, Mr. Sakanoshita believed he was growing "too soft" by dating his daughter. This didn't align well with the ransom, as Kuroo would have pitied Mika because of Leia and her similar position of vulnerability. He also suspected Kuroo had known more about his true intentions than he had hoped.

Mika attended the exact same university as you and Iwaizumi, the University of Tokyo. She was a full time student with easygoing nursing prerequisite classes and a rich yakuza boyfriend. Mika was carefree, reckless and vulnerable—which made her an easy target for ransom. Every weekday, she went to class in a luxurious white Lexus GS 350, a beautiful birthday present from her loving boyfriend, Suguru Daishou himself.

One night, Oikawa rolled up to the University of Tokyo in an old, beater-type 1996 dark green Honda Accord that Mr. Sakanoshita had lent him to use for the ransom. Mr. Sakanoshita provided her exact class schedule, knowing she had night classes specifically on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He scanned across the parking lot for Mika's Lexus GS 350, noticing an open parking spot beside her car.

He executed a plan that worked perfectly—after she finished her classes, he asked Mika to "help" him jump start his car. Oikawa had put on the perfect innocent and helpless act that any naïve girl would fall for. He wore fancy trousers and a button up shirt, slicked back his hair and covered his tattoos with makeup to fool Mika into believing he was a normal business major looking for a jumpstart on his old beater car.

The plan was foolproof—Mika instantly fell for his little act. The minute she arrived at her car and unlocked her door, Oikawa stepped out begging for her help with jumper cables ready in his hands. Much to her demise, she obliged and let Oikawa pop open the hood of her car, connecting the jumper cables to her battery.

Unfortunately for Mika, her lack of attention and car logistics failed to recognize Oikawa taking out her spark plug and pulling a few wires in the engine so her car wouldn't start properly. The minute he "fixed" his car, hers wouldn't work—causing Oikawa to coincidentally offer Mika a ride home. Alas, that would be the last of Mika's public appearances.

It wasn't hard for Oikawa to restrain her in the backseat either. He duct-taped her mouth shut and blindfolded her eyes while tying her entire body in rough-textured rope that grazed against her fragile skin whenever she resisted. Her irritating cries for help annoyed Oikawa to the point he had to pull over behind a remote gas station to keep her quiet.

Oikawa didn't mean to kill her as his intent was to put her to sleep. Yet, while she was in a tight headlock, Oikawa accidentally snapped her neck, severing her spinal cord. One hard twist to her throat and she was gone for good. Mika dropped onto the backseat of the Accord, her lips quivering as she struggled to breathe. Nonetheless, she died from asphyxiation and the fatal drop of her blood pressure.

Her lifeless body laid in the backseat of the shitty run-down Honda Accord as Oikawa looked down at his hands with a panicked and shocked expression; his eyes wide and his lips trembling. He had murdered plenty of men before, his kill count racking up into the double digits.

Yet, accidentally killing Mika was the one that broke him down to the core, as it reminded him exactly why he had left Osaka in the first place. It stayed in his consciousness for years after, suppressed away in the back of his mind.

He drove carefully in the night up the mountain to the Sakanoshita mansion with Mika's dead body resting in the backseat. Oikawa couldn't remember how the rest of the drive went before immediately rushing to Mr. Sakanoshita's office as his breathing hyperventilated, his eyes widening in fear and tears rushing down his cheeks.

Mr. Sakanoshita, being the shitty man he was, didn't mind Oikawa's convicted manslaughter. In actuality, he preferred if she was already dead anyways—it made the process a lot easier for him. He planned to not inform the Nohebi clan of her living status, letting them pay off the five billion yen before handing her body over.

Oikawa remembered Daishou's screams of anguish when one of the Sakanoshita henchmen opened the back door of the beater Honda Accord and kicked out Mika's lifeless body, stiff from the developing rigor mortis. Oikawa drove the car as fast as he could after he pushed her out, speeding away in the night as Daishou collapsed to his knees wailing over Mika in the rearview mirror.

Oikawa was instructed to dump the car in the landfill, dousing the Honda Accord with gasoline and setting the car aflame while getting rid of any evidence tracing back to him. He thought the deed was done and that he would never see Daishou or the Nohebi clan ever again after that. Years passed without anyone ever knowing Oikawa was involved with the death and ransom of Mika Yamaka—not even Kuroo himself.

Oikawa was certain that Daishou couldn't tell it was him in the drivers' seat of the getaway car as he wore a hat, sunglasses and everything he could to cover up his identity when they went to drop off Mika's body. Yet, Daishou still reduced it down to two men he knew worked under the Sakanoshita family: Cypher and DK.

Daishou knew it wasn't Sly Fox because of the way the driver of the car drifted the Honda Accord around a tight corner without fail. Only two men in the whole underground racing scene could drift so swiftly; Tooru Oikawa and Tetsurou Kuroo. That's how he lured them in anyways, targeting Sly Fox first to get to them. A firearms deal was the easiest to do—not every gang member bought drugs but every gang member needed a gun.

The Inarizaki Bois were the only "street-racing formed" gang involved with the trafficking of firearms, drugs and pirated goods—any type of contraband you could think of. The only thing they didn't dapple in was human trafficking, which was a whole other league to itself in Japan. Kita was the best at it, leading all of the members of the Inarizaki Bois to be dealers themselves rather than only him.

Unfortunately it left Kita to become too cocky with a lack of judgment on the kinds of customers that were buying his products. That's how the Nohebi clan captured Kita, luring him into the abandoned Sakanoshita warehouse and catching him off guard—mercilessly beating him while baiting Kuroo and Oikawa to his aid.

"Cypher! What the fuck is Fangs talking about?!" Kuroo screamed at the top of his lungs, his eyes filled with panic as Daishou and his henchmen aimed two pistols at his head.

Oikawa's stomach dropped, unable to speak as Kuroo's head was gunned down onto the filthy concrete. He never told Kuroo about the ransom, even long after the death of Mr. Sakanoshita. It was just one of the few things Oikawa kept from Kuroo and Leia, hoping they never had to find out about it.

"Admit you killed her, fucker." Daishou pulled back the slider and cocked his pistol. "Or perhaps I'll pay a visit to Miss Leia Sakanoshita herself."

"NO!" Kuroo screamed and whimpered against the henchman's grip, trying to pry open the rope around his wrists. "I seriously don't know what you're talking about! I didn't kill anyone!"

Oikawa couldn't let Kuroo take the blame for something he didn't do, much less a job he didn't even know about. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, feeling the blood rush to his head as the henchman's heels dug straight beneath his right shoulder blade.

"Stop," Oikawa choked, looking up at Daishou as he lowered his gun at Kuroo. "I killed her. I killed Mika. DK had nothing to do with it."

"You fucking bitch." Daishou swung his right leg violently, kicking Oikawa in the mouth again. He felt the pop of his jaw shift to the right, the pain rushing to the left side of his face. Oikawa let out an anguished wail of pain as he spat out blood onto the concrete floor.

He looked up at Kuroo, watching his face contort into an expression he'd never seen on him before. His eyes looked drained of life and shocked to the bone as his mouth hung open, absolutely speechless over Oikawa's confession. A single tear dropped from his left eye, rolling down his dirty cheek and onto the concrete.

"What...?" Kuroo mouthed before Daishou kicked Oikawa in the jaw again, knocking his head down onto the floor.

"You're fucking dead, Cypher." Daishou stomped on Oikawa's head, the tip of his black shoe repeatedly shoved into his bloody mouth over and over again. He coughed profusely, aimlessly trying to catch his breath. The Nohebi yakuza henchman took his foot off of Oikawa's back, relieving the heavy pressure on his spine.

Daishou crouched down to Oikawa's level, placing the barrel of his gun against his head. He rested his index finger on the trigger, cocking the slider before leaning in closer to his face.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" Kuroo screamed, squirming underneath the Nohebi henchman. His eyes widened to the point they would pop out of his skull, panic and shock overriding his entire body as he watched Daishou press the barrel of his gun further against Oikawa's forehead.

"Isn't it obvious already? Sakanoshita hired Cypher here to kidnap and kill my Mika while he dished me out of five billion yen for her dead body," Daishou choked while his eyes watered, removing the gun away from Oikawa's forehead before he turned to Kuroo with a single tear dropping from his cheek. "Mika is dead because of Sakanoshita."

"Then why are you going after us?! Sakanoshita was the one who planned the whole thing, wasn't it?! He's dead already, so why are you going after Cypher?! It's obvious he was a pawn in Sakanoshita's fucked up game!"

Kuroo screamed in pain, writhing his body back and forth on the concrete underneath the yakuza henchman's grip. Daishou turned around back to Oikawa, wiping away the single tear on his face with the sleeve of his blazer.

"It's not the same. For my own satisfaction, I want Cypher to suffer the same way I did."

Oikawa looked back up at Daishou's tall figure leaning over him. An ominous grin formed on his face again, curling the corners of his mouth as he kicked Oikawa in the jaw. While he coughed up another phlegm of blood onto the concrete, Daishou crouched down and grabbed his face—forcing Oikawa to look at him.

"I saw that you got yourself a girl, Cypher." Daishou maliciously smiled, narrowing his eyes as he chuckled lightly, mentioning your name nonchalantly with a bitter taste lingering on his tongue. "She's very beautiful, just like my Mika. We all saw her in the passenger seat of your car during the race in downtown Tokyo."

"Don't you fucking dare," Oikawa growled through his teeth as he pinched his eyebrows, glaring straight up at Daishou. "I'll fucking kill you."

"Oh? Kill me? I'd like to see you try." Daishou grabbed Oikawa's face again, pinching the bottom of his cheeks with his thumb and index finger. "Perhaps I'll kidnap and tie her up while I slowly drain the humanity out of her lifeless, pretty little body. I'll kill her like you did to my Mika, maybe then you'll know how I felt."

Oikawa gritted his teeth and reached his right hand down into his pocket, feeling the rough handle of Kuroo's switchblade before he clicked the release button open. Luckily for Oikawa, both Daishou and the Nohebi henchman didn't notice him cut through the rope around his wrists as he slipped his right hand out.

Daishou tilted Oikawa's chin up and stared at the blood dripping down from his busted lip with the scuffs of his shoe smothered on his jaw. Before he could say anything, Oikawa smirked at him while furrowing his eyebrows and puckering his lips before spitting blood and saliva straight into Daishou's eyes.

"Fuck!" He stumbled back, wiping the filth from his eyes before Oikawa stabbed his left thigh with Kuroo's switchblade. His scream echoed into the warehouse as the small knife sunk deeper into his skin, the blood profusely oozing out of the wound because Oikawa struck his femoral artery.

Daishou looked up at Oikawa as he towered above him, the murderous look in his eyes overshadowed his scathed and battered face. His pupils constricted while he muttered a distasteful threat, an intense expression growing on his face as his eyes widened with rage.

"If you ever so lay a finger on her, I'll take my sweet time killing you, much slower than I did with Mika."

He yanked the knife out of Daishou's thigh, his blood coated along the blade. In an instant, the Nohebi henchman grabbed Oikawa from the back, placing him into a choke hold. He flung his body backwards, stabbing the henchman in the neck with the same switchblade. That same henchman released Oikawa and clutched his throat before falling to the ground, bleeding out from his neck.

In the corner of his eye, the rest of the Nohebi henchman tackled him and grabbed each of Oikawa's arms, restraining his movements. The switchblade in his hands dropped to the floor, the clink of the stainless steel echoing on the concrete of the warehouse. The henchman with black hair kicked the switchblade in the opposite direction, furthering its distance from him. Unbeknownst, he kicked it straight to Kuroo's side, to which he rolled over and grabbed it with the tips of his fingers.

Just as much as Kuroo was skilled with drifting, he was even better at handling blades. In one swift motion, he cut the ropes restraining his arms. Once he was free, Kuroo rubbed his wrists together and placed his palms on the concrete, lifting himself up from the ground. The henchman that previously had him restrained instantly charged towards Kuroo, pulling out his gun in the process.

Kuroo quickly reacted and ducked, dodging the bullet aimed at his body while kicking the henchman off his feet with his left leg, knocking the man in the dark green suit straight into the ground. The henchman let out a grunt as his body hit the floor, Kuroo body-slamming on top of him afterwards.

He pressed the blade up to the henchman's neck, the sweat accumulating on his forehead as he looked down at the man with blonde hair. Kuroo looked into his pleading eyes, begging for him to spare his life.

"I apologize, but this is just mere self-defense. You charged at me first." He then sliced his neck, blood dripping from the fresh wound as the henchman's eyes rolled back into his skull.

On the other side of the warehouse, Oikawa elbowed the henchman in the chest to his right, punching him straight in the face as he stumbled back. He lunged straight at the other henchman, pulling out his gun from his waist and shooting him straight in the leg. The man wailed in his ear before Oikawa smashed the handle of his gun in the face of the henchman, knocking out a bloodied tooth or two.

Behind him, Oikawa heard a screech of war coming from the remaining Nohebi members. He turned around and instantly dodged their punches, instead grabbing their leg and pushing them on the ground, punching them in the face repeatedly until he couldn't recognize the man anymore.

Some blood scattered across Oikawa's face as his mouth frowned and his eyes filled with rage and fury. The man below him screamed, his cries overshadowed by the rounds of clips echoing from a few feet away.

Oikawa looked behind him to see Sly Fox's pistol secured tightly in Kuroo's grip as he pointed straight at the dying aforementioned henchman. In an instant, Kuroo shot him in the chest, his body instantly hitting the floor once the round went off.

"I thought you said we shouldn't kill anyone!" Oikawa screamed across the warehouse, extending his arms out in confusion.

"This is just self-defense!" Kuroo yelled back with some humor in his tone while Oikawa shrugged it off and focused his attention to the other henchman lunging at him.

The shouting and loud clip rounds shocked Kita awake, his eyes fluttering open as he scrambled on the floor. While his eyes shot wide open and his breathing became heavy, Kuroo grabbed Kita's torso under his arms and lifted him up off the concrete. Once he got him up off his feet, Kuroo winced and then looked at Oikawa, nodding his head.

With his teeth clenched, Kuroo gave the emergency signal they both agreed upon if the situation went south—their plan B of killing them all off. He carefully dragged Kita behind a tower of barrels, escaping the fight and nursing Kita back to consciousness.

He knew what Oikawa was capable of, and leaving him to fight the henchman all by himself wasn't cowardly—in fact, Kuroo left Oikawa in his element. In all his time knowing him, he had only seen Oikawa truly unhinged twice—when they first met, and then now, facing the yakuza Nohebi clan.

Two henchmen were already dead, the bald one Oikawa stabbed in the neck and the blonde one Kuroo had shot earlier. That meant five men were left—one lying unconscious on the ground, face beaten to a pulp and unable to move; the other three henchmen lunging towards him. That just left Daishou clutching his thigh, trying his hardest to put pressure on his shot wound.

Oikawa took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, regaining his momentum. His right hand held his gunmetal pistol, his pointer finger resting on the side of the trigger. The second he opened his eyes, he cocked the slider and pointed it directly at one of the three henchmen, shooting him straight in the chest. Once his body was close enough, Oikawa kicked him in the throat, his head twisting to the left as he collapsed onto the concrete.

Whipping around, Oikawa closed his left eye and aimed straight at the other henchman running towards him, aiming directly at his forehead as a bullet lodged straight through his skull. His pupils rolled back, the whites of his eyes completely covering the entirety of his orbital fissure. The henchman hit the floor, his neck snapping under his weight. Oikawa kicked his back, his body rolling over onto his death.

The third henchman stopped in his tracks, his hands up in the air begging for him to spare his life. Through his rage, Oikawa mercilessly shot him three times in the chest—the rounds of bullets echoing into the warehouse as the henchman's body dropped on top of the others.

Oikawa was on a rampage, killing three men instantaneously within a minute of each other. He breathed heavily and watched the smoke come out the top of his pistol, slowly rising up to the ceiling. He turned around, only to make eye contact with Suguru Daishou once again.

Oikawa didn't feel anything inside of him. He couldn't find his humanity, nor his sanity as every ounce of compassion or sympathy for the man pleading beneath him drained out of his body. He didn't see a man avenging the death of his girlfriend—he saw a cowardly, weak excuse of a human being on his knees, tears in his eyes, begging for his pathetic life to be spared.

"Please," Daishou choked, his lips quivering as he dragged his body against the concrete floor. "I'll do whatever you want, I'll give you all my money. Just please spare me."

"Money can't spare your life." 

In that moment, Daishou knew those words would be the last he heard on his final moment on earth. Before his life flashed before his eyes, he looked up at Oikawa pointing the tip of his sleek gunmetal pistol straight at him as he stared into the dark, empty abyss of the barrel. The violent and murderous look in Oikawa's bloodshot eyes sent a cruel, despairing chill down Daishou's spine before his mind went blank, completely disconnecting his consciousness from his body.

Oikawa shot three rounds all within a millisecond of each other, three flashes of bangs lighting up into the warehouse. He watched Daishou's body smash onto the concrete, his lifeless vessel lying in a pool of his dark, viscous red blood. Oikawa looked down at the gunmetal pistol in his hand, his bruised fingers grasping the handle tightly while his knuckles were battered and bleeding.

The warehouse fell silent, only the sound of water dripping from rotten pipes echoed throughout the inside of the large shipment container. It was still dark all except for the single lightbulb swinging over the decaying wooden chair knocked over on the concrete.

The smoke from his gun barrel wisped up to the ceiling, the smell putrid of metal bullets infiltrating the surrounding air around Oikawa. Nothing ran through his mind as the echoes of his heavy breathing filled the sound in his ears.

Kuroo and Kita slowly walk out from behind the barrels, Kita's left arm around Kuroo's shoulder. Kita limped alongside him as he placed his hand on Kuroo's chest for support. They both looked up at Oikawa, his eyes still bloodshot as his chest rose up and down from his staggered deep breaths.

"You're fucking ruthless, Cypher." Kuroo looked up with a small smirk on his face. He let out a hesitated chuckle, not sure if it was an appropriate time to crack a joke.

Murdering was easy for Oikawa. To simply take someone's precious life away from them in a single second, he never even gave it another thought. Most of the time his adrenaline and aggression take over his mindset, causing every single emotion in his brain to shut down. To his defense, most of the people he had killed were criminals with no morality deserving to die, specifically other men.

Though when he killed Mika Yamaka, her death meant something else to him. She wasn't anything like the men he had killed before at all, the only crime she could have committed was just unfortunately being associated with a truly immoral man.

The entire time, through the eyes of a manipulator, he tried his best to portray a side of himself that wouldn't scare you away. He purposely withheld showing the true side to himself—the ruthless, murderous and violent convicted criminal that is Tooru Oikawa.

He admitted that he was a bad person. Back down in Osaka, he was known for being a silent killer as his own clan fiercely feared him and what he was capable of. His reputation got around quickly, spreading far and wide to other yakuza families, not to mess with the Kitagawa Daiichi. Though, sooner or later, that same reputation would be his demise.

He lost his cool, calm and collected demeanor very quickly whenever faced in a life-or-death situation, and only one other person besides the people he killed had ever seen that side to himself: Tetsurou Kuroo.

"You alright?"

Kuroo's question snapped Oikawa awake, his eyes blinking a few times before his vision focused back on Kita. "Yeah, I'm fine. How's Sly Fox?"

"Doing better," Kuroo grabbed Kita's arm and pulled him off his feet again as they both limped closer to Oikawa. Kuroo glanced over to Kita, his eyes still fluttering as he deeply inhaled.

"Pretty sure he was high off his mind before we got here. Smell his breath, dude. Strong ass ganja. I think he's weaning off of it, though."

"I'm fine," Kita whispered, his body slowly standing up on his own. He placed his right foot in front of the other, stabilizing himself to walk. "I can drive, you guys don't have to worry about me."

"You sure?" Oikawa cocked an eyebrow, peering down at Kita struggling to stand up.

"Yeah," Kita exhaled as he placed both of his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He stood up quickly and reached his right hand behind his back, grabbing his keys in the back pocket of his jeans. "When am I ever sober though?"

Kuroo and Oikawa looked at each other and shrugged as Kita stood up on his own. The large slash across his chest scabbed over with his black Inarizaki Bois hoodie defiled and stained with his blood. He sighed and looked up at Kuroo before glancing back to Oikawa.

"Thanks, guys." Through his black eye and the blood and dirt smeared on his face, Kita expressed a lighthearted smile as the left side of his mouth curled up into his cheek. "I probably would have ended up dead like these fuckers if you guys didn't show up."

All three of them looked back at the seven dead bodies of the Nohebi Clan scattered across the concrete of the warehouse, blood pooled and spilled all over the floor.

"We should probably clean this up." Kita suggested, walking towards Daishou as he crouched down and lifted up his lifeless arm, dropping it back down onto his mutilated face—extremely disfigured to the point that you couldn't tell it was Daishou anymore. "Leaving a bunch of dead snakes in a Sakanoshita warehouse is probably bad luck for us. The police are gonna be on our asses again."

In a quick amount of time, the three of them dragged out all of the dead bodies belonging to the members of the Nohebi Clan out onto the Tokyo Freight Terminal, close to the water. Fortunately for them, the tide was aggressive tonight—the Pacific Ocean waves crashing against the pier as each dead body dropped down into the deep, dark abyss of the sea.

Daishou was the last to be dropped in, as Oikawa hauled his surprisingly light body against the pier, his feet dragging along the concrete. Heavy rain began to drop from the sky with small pellets of water collecting on Oikawa's white t-shirt, feeling the cold breeze against his biceps.

He waited until the ocean tide pulled back, allowing a perfect opening for him to drop Daishou's body in the deepest part of the pier. Oikawa counted to three before he flung his body over the edge, watching him descend into the dark abyss of the sea.

"Fuck," Kuroo breathed out as he peered down at the dark blue ocean swallow up Daishou's body. He placed his hands on his hips, his tight fitting black tank top ripped and stained with blood. "I still can't stand the sight of dead bodies."

"You get used to it," Oikawa responded, placing his hands in his pockets as he looked down at the ocean crashing against the side of the tall pier. Part of his hair was drenched from the rain, his wet white t-shirt clinging to the top of his shoulders. "But it isn't something to be proud of."

Once all the bodies were dumped, all three of them left the Tokyo Freight Terminal in their cars, roaring their engines into the night—leaving the old Sakanoshita warehouse abandoned once again.

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© hoeneymilktea 2024, I am protected by copyright. I do not give permission to translate or repost my works.

[pheenixbabe]

shifting in media

this is where the association begins to get a bit convoluted. walk with me here. many shifters and say that just through intention--whether that be a statement or meaningful action--they can successfully shift their awareness from point a to point b.

now playing... i wish - skeelo

1. the lego movie.

(spoiler alert!) the alleged prophecy in the start of the movie doesnt exist. but by believing in himself, emmet is able to fulfill it and save his universe. just like how despite not feeling "worthy enough" to shift, belief in your ability to do so makes any method foolproof.

2. visions (genshin impact)

--are an apparatus allowing superhuman abilities bestowed to those with particularly potent desires. this is like how shifting/manifesting successes come to those who intend for it to come very strongly and faithfully, a particularly potent desire.

3. fairytails magic system.

i remember when natsu was fighting the guy with wind powers, and he said a certain move was "impossible" to pull off. but natsu remembered that the magic can do anything he wants it to, as long as he believes it will.

4, chaos powers.

--are a very illusive and versatile power to have. they grant the user control of their reality, what does that sound like to you? shifting! like wanda maximoff or discord (mlp) you have the liberty to create your own universe from scratch. but maybe dont be as destructive as those two...

5. the concept of a wish.

wishing is a concept anyone familiar with storytelling for the past i dont know a thousand years must know by the back of their hand. but the encouragement to keep wishing disney gives us isnt just some starry-eyed message. when you wish, you know it will come true. so when you expect to shift or manifest with the assumption that it will happen for sure, then it must come true!

[odinsblog]

Special Field Orders, No. 15 (series 1865) were military orders issued during the American Civil War, on January 16, 1865, by General William Tecumseh Sherman, commander of the Military Division of the Mississippi of the United States Army. They provided for the confiscation of 400,000 acres (160,000 ha) of land along the Atlantic coast of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida and the dividing of it into parcels of not more than 40 acres (16 ha), on which were to be settled approximately 18,000 formerly enslaved families and other black people then living in the area.

The orders were issued following Sherman's March to the Sea. They were intended to address the immediate problem of dealing with the tens of thousands of black refugees who had joined Sherman's march in search of protection and sustenance, and “to assure the harmony of action in the area of operations.” Critics allege that his intention was for the order to be a temporary measure to address an immediate problem, and not to grant permanent ownership of the land to the freedmen, although most of the recipients assumed otherwise. General Sherman issued his orders four days after meeting with twenty local black ministers and lay leaders and with U.S. Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton in Savannah, Georgia. Brig. Gen. Rufus Saxton, an abolitionist from Massachusetts who had previously organized the recruitment of black soldiers for the Union Army, was put in charge of implementing the orders. Freedmen were settled in Georgia, particularly along the Savannah River, in the Ogeechee district of Chatham County, and on islands off of the coast of Savannah.

In the end, the orders had little concrete effect because President Andrew Johnson issued a proclamation that returned the lands to southern owners who took a loyalty oath. Johnson granted amnesty to most former Confederates and allowed the rebel states to elect new governments. These governments, which often included ex-Confederate officials, soon enacted black codes, measures designed to control and repress the recently freed slave population. General Saxton and his staff at the Charleston SC Freedmen Bureau's office refused to carry out President Johnson's wishes and denied all applications to have lands returned. In the end, Johnson and his allies removed General Saxton and his staff, but not before Congress was able to provide legislation to assist some families in keeping their lands.

Although mules are not mentioned in the orders, they were a main source for the expression “forty acres and a mule.” A historical marker commemorating the order was erected by the Georgia Historical Society in Savannah, near the corner of Harris and Bull streets, in Madison Square. (source)

👉🏿 40 Acres & A Lie (podcast)

[coochiequeens]

Men say shit like women should get married to have a man who will protect them then do shit like this.

Woman, 72, 'drugged by her husband so 50 men could rape her while unconscious' appears in court after bravely waiving right to anonymity as he goes on trial along with men 'filmed having sex with her'

Gisele P opted for a public trial and waived her right to anonymity, lawyers said

Police say she suffered 92 rapes by 72 men, 51 of whom have been identified

Those identified will also go on trial alongside the main suspect, Dominique P

By David Averre 2 September 2024

French woman whose husband is on trial for drugging her and allowing dozens of strangers to rape her while unconscious appeared in court for the first time after waiving her right to anonymity. 

Gisele P., 72, was seen standing in the courtroom supported by her three children to witness the opening day of the trial of Dominique P., 71, which began this morning in Avignon. 

He is accused of orchestrating a sick rape ring, using an online forum to invite a horde of men to his home in Mazan near Avignon before filming them assaulting his wife over nine years between 2011 and 2020.

Police counted a total of 92 rapes committed by 72 men, 51 of whom were identified and are being tried alongside the main suspect, a former employee at France's power utility company EDF.

Presiding judge Roger Arata announced that all the hearings would be public, granting Gisele her wish for 'complete publicity until the end' of the court case, according to her lawyer, Stephane Babonneau. 

Gisele could have opted for a trial behind closed doors given the nature of her husband's alleged crimes, but 'that's what her attackers would have wanted', another lawyer named Antoine Camus said. 

Still, the trial will be 'a horrible ordeal' for Gisele.

'For the first time, she will have to live through the rapes that she endured over 10 years,' Camus said, adding that his client had 'no recollection' of the abuse which she only discovered in 2020.

Gisele P. - a French woman whose husband is on trial for drugging her and allowing dozens of strangers to rape her while unconscious - is seen arriving in court today

Dominique P. is accused of orchestrating the sick rape ring, filming strangers he met online attacking his wife while she was drugged between 2011 and 2020 Ladies let's share this face everytime men spew crap about men protecting women

The President of the Vaucluse Assises Court Roger Arata speaks at the courthouse during the trial of Dominique P. in the south of France, in Avignon, on September 2, 2024

The couple met in 1971 and married two years later before having three kids together. 

Gisele previously said her husband had asked her to try swinging - a request she refused.

But she also described him as a 'great guy' with a 'normal sexuality'. 

Their eldest son said nothing in his father's behaviour suggested any deviance and that 'he had always fulfilled his role as a father', while their daughter spoke fondly of her father's presence in her life as a young girl. 

The heinous campaign of sexual abuse masterminded by Dominique P. is said to have begun in 2011 when the couple was living near Paris, and continued after they moved to Mazan two years later.

Police began to investigate the defendant Dominique P. in September 2020 when he was caught by a security guard secretly filming under the skirts of three women in a shopping centre.

Police said they found hundreds of pictures and videos of his wife on his computer, visibly unconscious and mostly in the foetal position.

The images are alleged to show dozens of rapes in the couple's home in Mazan, a village of 6,000 people roughly 20 miles from Avignon in Provence.

Investigators also found chats on a site called coco.fr, since shut down by police, in which he recruited strangers to come to their home and have intercourse with his wife.

Dominique P. later admitted to investigators that he gave his wife powerful tranquilisers, especially Temesta, an anxiety-reducing drug.

Demonstrators hold placards and smoke bombs during a protest outside the courthouse during the trial of a man accused of drugging his wife for nearly ten years and inviting strangers to rape her at their home in Mazan, a small town in the south of France, in Avignon, on September 2, 2024

Beatrice Zavarro, lawyer for the accused Dominique P, waits at the courthouse during the trial of her client accused of drugging his wife for nearly ten years and inviting strangers to rape her at their home in Mazan, a small town in the south of France, in Avignon, on September 2, 2024

The husband took part in the rapes, filmed them and encouraged the other men using degrading language, according to prosecutors.

In previous hearings, he explained how he took a range of precautions to avoid his wife or family from discovering the dark deeds.

French outlet Le Point reported how Dominique P. imposed strict rules on each of the men who he invited to rape his wife: no perfume or tobacco, cut and clean nails, hands first run under hot water so as not to risk waking the victim. 

The attackers would park a few minutes from the couple's home and undress in the kitchen. No money changed hands.

The accused rapists included a forklift driver, a fire brigade officer, a company boss and a journalist.

Some were single, others married or divorced, and some were family men. Most participated just once, but some took part up to six times. 

Their defence has been that they simply helped a libertine couple live out its fantasies, but Dominique P. told investigators that all were aware that his wife had been drugged without her knowledge.

An expert said her state 'was closer to a coma than to sleep'.

Her husband told prosecutors that only three men left the house quickly after arriving, while all others proceeded to have intercourse with his wife.

Dominique P., who said he was raped by a male nurse when he was nine, is ready to face 'his family and his wife', his lawyer Beatrice Zavarro said.

'He is ashamed of what he did, it is unforgivable,' Zavarro told reporters on Monday morning, adding that the case was 'in a form of addiction'.

'My client's line of conduct is that he recognises what he did and there has not been an ounce of protest since the beginning,' she said in comments carried by French press.

But this trial may not be his last. 

The defendant has also been charged with a 1991 murder and rape, which he denies, and an attempted rape in 1999, to which he admitted after DNA testing.

Experts said the man does not appear to be mentally ill, but reportedly concluded that had a need to feel 'all-powerful' over the female body in assessments included in court documents. 

The shocking trial is due to last until December 20

[udretlnea]

The Divine City, Interlude Quest: Dormiens Factorem. Part 1

"May you live in interesting times, may the gods grant you their blessing, may your wishes be fulfilled. Through this, may you never know peace or tranquility ever again," - An Alternian threat

Page 1 (here) \ Next page \ Prologue

(Words: 600~)

(Edit: I fixed how boring page 1 was and edited in a little introduction for Marc.)

(Disclaimer: This work is non-canon to the plotline of the Divine City by yuriisclumsy.)

The paths that we all take are slow going, so please - I beg of thee, listen to what I have to say.

Several decades ago, whispers of a mighty nation that existed in another universe were shared between traveling outlanders. A place called Alternia. It was a proper utopia. Everything you could ever want, you could have it there.

What made it special was its ruler: the reincarnation of a god. Stories go that he was the one that made Teyvat with their own hands, and created the previous Seven Sovereigns. He decided to take a page out of Raiden Ei’s book and created hundreds of divine puppets to help build and manage his city. 

Aside from that, they were also its protectors and could hit twice as hard as any allogene. Little wonder why the Treasure Hoarders never dared to try and steal from them.

But then the five sinners appeared. I imagine you all know what happened next.

Turns out they were unhappy with how this reincarnation was ruling. So they banded together and waged war against Alternia.

After that, the world was thrown into upheaval. These new monsters were tougher and more powerful to the point it took an alliance between Alternia and the Seven Nations just to have a fighting chance. 

And then, on the final days of the war the sinners met their match. When all seven gods combined their power to create an item of unfathomable power, they pushed all five sinners back into the Abyss before obliterating them.

But before they were completely eradicated they activated a failsafe. One where it made sure that nothing living could sustain itself thereafter.

Irminsul exploded in a shower of Abyssal energy. Without anything recording information anymore, people and gods disappeared one by one. The only one left by the end of it all was the reincarnated creator, and his hundreds of puppets.

Bereft of his beloved, the nation he swore to protect, and his entire world his mind shattered. Thus, he took his creations with him and silently left. 

In time, Alternia faded away until it only existed as a distant memory.

Nowadays, some outlanders catch glimpses of people with puppet joints in their travels. Stories of cults being dismantled and statues of the alleged Creators destroyed were shared between weary travelers from beyond the sky.

Maybe the sinners weren’t all destroyed. Maybe the reincarnation and his puppets are still active, searching for a place to protect to replace their lost home.

Or maybe they’ve isolated themselves from everyone else in order to heal.

I wouldn’t know. I left them to cope with the horrors I experienced. Teyvat is truly a beautiful world when one looks at it with a clear view. It’s just a shame that so many different versions of it are - shall we say - infested with cults worshiping a deity that doesn’t even exist.

But there are worse things out there than children being given the powers of a god. Things that can make even the Archon War look like a snowball fight.

///////////////////////////////

Greek Chorus Labs 00:00 

Current Location: Branch Universe #Y-11

//////////////////

The light eventually died down.

Any few travelers who were on the roads to the Divine City blinked twice before dismissing it entirely. 

A pretty light show over the city? Must’ve been festival preparations, they thought.

Near the farmlands, a small black cube fell from the sky in a bright purple light only to crash into the dirt. It thrummed and vibrated vivaciously. Then, there was a click before a dark violet mist began spitting out.

///////////////////////////////

A/N: 

Howdy! The main story that the prologue was building up to has begun. Hooray! I hope I made the intro engaging enough. :<

I will take a break from drawing and writing by playing version 5.1 of Genshin because I deserve it. Regarding updates,- well, it will be slow since I'll be studying CISSP simultaneously. But that doesn't mean I won't give this little project my all, of course!

I'll make the master list tomorrow FYI BTW.

Terms and general clarifications:

Allogene: “People with particularly powerful desires that have the potential to ascend to Celestia and become gods,” - Genshin Impact Wiki

Alternia existed in another version of Teyvat. This was implied with the Seven Nations and five sinners being mentioned. 

Please leave any comments, questions, or critiques. Anything! I can take it!

Taglist: @yuriisclumsy

[comradekarin]

living for your hotd hot takes!!! what do you wish would have happened in S1 & S2 in your ideal world?

thank you anon. i know some people are sick of me bitching….but blame ryan and sara!!! i love when i get asks anyway, it’s fun :)

now, i won’t go into specifics mainly because i don’t know what plot points i would change exactly (while still keeping it faithful to the show/books). but as for season one, in an ideal world, there aren’t so many time skips. i do understand that time skips and short seasons are because of budgeting, but the frequent time skips didn’t help with establishing the dynamics between the characters, namely alicent and rhaenyra. i believe there’s an entirety of twenty plus years shown in season one, yet a lot of groundwork isn’t really laid down. i personally wish we got more harwin/house strong. it’s easy to forget larys is harwin’s brother, and larys is such a major player with teamg that it really makes you wonder his relationship with his brother and father. more of harwin and rhaenyra! i would even go as far as to wish for more interactions between nyra and alicent’s kids outside of the pivotal scenes we got. in an ideal world, season one would truly show the build of resentment, of bitterness, of suspicion and distrust amongst not just the kids but the adults as well. the events leading up to the estrangement of rhaenyra and alicent in their adulthood (though, this is implied more than explicitly stated).

this last wish is more personal, but i wish the writers hadn’t cut out jacaerys and rhaenyra’s conversation before he left for the north in s1. jacaerys wishing to fight, like daemon, and urging his mother to act for every second she stalled him and his siblings remained in danger. granted, rhaenyra appeared very naive and childish in the script, so it’s probably for the better it never made the final cut.

i’m only halfway through season two, but my main issue with the season so far is the lack of consistency when it comes to characterization. there’s a lot of back tracking and contradictions that make the characters we loved in season one unrecognizable in two. in an ideal world, season two would focus more on team black/green kids. developing the relationship between aemond and aegon (and their dynamic with alicent). letting the audience see jacaerys being political savvy and his budding friendship with cregan while he was up north. the writers acknowledging the bond that rhaena should have had with jacaerys and lucerys; she was ward of dragonstone for six years yet the writers seem to forget this fact. seeing baela murder cole via burning in 4k would also be pretty cool. giving baela way more screen time and actually allowing her to have a voice about the war, the dragonseeds, rhaena and so forth. daemon interacting with the dragon twins more. showing visenya during daemon’s many episodes at harrenhal! the fact that childbirth is such an important component in his relationship with his mother, laena and rhaenyra yet it’s not emphasized is also criminal. but just cutting the harrenhal episodes will do, too. and more jacaela! i’m crazy so i catch all of their crumbs, but i do wish their scenes were less jace centric and more mutual. like, sure, we get the eye, dinner and council scene, but those are short lines rather than dedicated screentime. and even in baela’s moments of comforting jace, her opinions on things are never really mentioned. everything she says go back to what rhaenyra will think, how rhaenyra will react, what rhaenyra will do, etc. i also wish we could see more of aemond and alicent? i think i get her and aegon’s dynamic, but i’m not entirely sure where her and aemond stand. aegon and sunfyre! jace and vermax! addam and jace’s friendship! more of corlys and rhaenys’ reaction to lucerys’ death (lucerys never truly beat the favorite grandson allegations). or, lucerys and visenya being mentioned at all. and i can’t believe i’m saying this, but more otto!! and less criston cole (it’s insane cole has more screentime than all of tb!kids).

season two honestly feels like filler and stalling, yet the writers aren’t using this time to build up tension or meaningful dynamics so that they can really sell season three. it doesn’t showcase grief all that well, either, so i wish that would be improved, too.

so, there’s probably a bunch of other things i want to see but i won’t bore you too much, anon!! outside of baela burning cole, i feel like my wishes wouldn’t stray too far from the narrative? if anything, it would only enrich show canon.

[yolowritter]

A Perspective on Miquella the Kind

"Miquella the Kind...is a monster." Those are some of the first words uttered by Sir Ansbach once the Empyrean's Great Rune is shattered, and the charm placed upon his followers in the Lands of Shadow is lifted. But...are they actually true? With all the new information we have about Miquella in the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC, it's worth to re-examine all we know about his character. Naturally, a huge part of the community is budy combing every nook and cranny for more lore on this Demigod. And...others are displeased with the new information given, or more specifically, what Miquella's plan is revealed to be at the DLC's end. So today, I want to take a closer look at Miquella as a character, his followers, and of course, the overarching plot which the Tarnished becomes involved in after slaying Radahn and Mohg. As an aside, we really owe the Lord of Blood an apology as a community. Nevermind the murders and cult sacrifices, Mohg managed to beat the allegations! Anyway, I do intend to also give my own interpretation in regards to the more...questionable things in the new Lore, so let's get right to it!

Firstly, it's worth establishing a baseline for who Miquella is as a person. As we all know, he is the son of Queen Marika and King Consort Radagon, as well as brother to Malenia. As a side note, the whole "Miquella divested himself of Saint Trina" situation most likely explains how this family dynamic would be possible, but that's another post altogether. Marika's...questionable marriage choices aside, Miquella has always been described as a kind, gentle soul. In some ways, his narrative place in Shadow of the Erdtree serves as a foil to Marika herself. Where his mother schemes and conceals the truth, Miquella is extremely upfront about his goals. Make the world a kinder, gentler place. And honestly? I believe him. I fully believe that Miquella, having grown up next to his cursed sister and seeing the Golden Order unable to do anything for Malenia, wished for nothing more but to better the world. And after realizing the Order wasn't working, I've no doubt he went on to discover the many, many attrocities committed against those of the Crucible, like the Misbegotten for example. However...this is where things get a little muddy, in terms of morality that is.

Remember that Miquella is basically a God. He is one of the few who can succeed Marika in a new Age. But...he doesn't seem like a fighter to me. He isn't one, which is where Radahn comes in. Now, forgive the aside, but we need to have a chat about what exactly "Consort" means as a word. Yes, it's typically used in the context of marriage, but from the original Latin meaning (I'm no expert here, feel free to correct me), a consort is someone with whom an individual shares a destiny. Miquella himself talks a little about this, both in the fight against Promised Consort Radahn, and if the Tarnished is charmed by his Circlet. Yes, that's the thing he uses to hypnotize people, it's in the item description. We understand the concept of a consort as the more modern interprepation of a romantic partner, a spouse of some kind. However, Elden Ring doesn't work by the same rules. Yes, it can mean spouse, given that Ranni welcomes the Tarnished as one and grants the Dark Moon Greatsword as a wedding gift, but it doesn't have to.

Unfortunately, I think the community is falling into the same pitfall we did with Mohg's wording of his own desires to become Miquella's consort. Unlike Ranni, neither situation here necessitates romantic feelings, and frankly I don't believe they exist here. Miquella was fascinated by Radahn's strength and kindness, and believed his brother would be an excellent person to share the remainder of his plans for a New Age with. And Radahn was, objectively speaking. He's hailed as a hero from everyone who knows him, even Ansbach treats him with great respect should you summon him for the final battle. I think the Vow made between Radahn and Miquella happened before the Shattering, and was something along the lines of Radahn helping Miquella make the world a better, kinder place. It's something the Red Lion would absolutely want, since despite his element being war, we get many accounts of him being an honorable, good man. It would make sense why Radahn at first agreed with Miquella, so let's see why Malenia even needed to go and do what she did in the first place. Why did Radahn not hold up his end of the deal?

To put it blunty, it's because he's a Golden Order fanboy. I'm still not entirely sure how Messmer ties into this from a timeline perspective, but Radahn grew up with his older half-brother (presumably before the Holy War against the Hornsent), his father Radagon, and Lord Godfrey as his primary male role models. Even if Godfrey had been exiled by that point, the evidence of his crusades was memorialized in song for Radahn to be inspired by. Of course he believed the Golden Order to be righteous and good, and wanted to uphold the honorable values he was raised on. Considering his own character, I'm quite confident in speculating that Radahn saw the Order's faults, and probably agreed with Miquella that there was a distance between the stories he grew up on and reality. So naturally, upon seeing his younger half-sibling try to fix things, Radahn quite possibly supported the idea.

Where I think the divide happened...was Miquella's method of problem-solving. As I said before, I've no doubt that he is as Kind as they say; it's just that Miquella envisioned a world without violence and had the power of make it so. His broken Great Rune holds the power to resist charms, so it's pretty reasonable to assume that the whole thing once held the power to perhaps inflict them. Miquella later replaced it with the Circlet he now wears, but still. He was strong enough to evoke a cult following from most of those who laid eyes on either of his forms. Again, I firmly believe he was doing good here, as both himself and as Saint Trina. From Miquella's point of view, he is helping. He grants the restless a peaceful sleep, he gives a home to the outcasts, he protects the Albinaurics, etc. That's why so many people wanted to follow him. What interests me is that Miquella seems to be a classic case of the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

He undoubtebly, truly wants to make a kind and gentle world, but has little qualms about forcing people to stop fighting. As Leda tells the Tarnished when asked about Hornsent, she explicitly states that without Miquella's charm, he would be attacking her and the others right now. Yes, it is arguably better for people to not fight to the death, but Miquella enforces this "good" thing in the wrong ways. Everywhere in the Lands of Shadow, we can see something similar. Sir Ansbach for example explains that Mohg himself got charmed, and that upon trying to rescue his Lord, Miquella brainwashed him as well. And he only sounds upset about it after the charm is broken. This gives us a very interesting character, since Miquella is technically correct in what he states. Should his Age of Compassion come to pass, there won't be any more War, or violence, or destructive conflict. However, taking away people's free will is arguably worse. So, what happened? Why does there seem to be a difference between the morally grey (but with good deeds to his name) Miquella, and the more extremist version we battle in Enir-Ilim?

Well...I think Miquella's Crosses hold the answer. At every site, he "divests himself" of something. It's clearly stated that he had doubts, he second-guessed if this was the right thing to do. He had moral qualms, but forced himself to leave them all behind. And there is one more thing he abandoned. Saint Trina. I believe this is why he seems so jarringly different to what we know about him. Because Saint Trina is his love and compassion. Every genuine feeling that Miquella held was left behind to make space for the more nebulous "Greater Good" of his new age...and evidently, very little that made Miquella himself even exists anymore. Despite the radiant light at the Gate of Divinity, his demeanor seems cold and calculated, much more akin to how I and many others might characterize Queen Marika. In attempting to ascend to Godhood, Miquella ironically became what he sought to destroy.

That's why there's such a difference between the Miquella we hear about in the main game, who does seem to be using his powers yes, but for a good cause...and the DLC version of Miquella, who is abusing his charms. Ever since entering the Lands of Shadow after he cocooned himself, Miquella has slowly divested himself of everything except the greater goal. Godhood is all that's left of him by the time we arrive at Enir-Ilim, which is why Saint Trina begs us to kill him. Miquella has already killed himself in a way, and all that's left is a brilliant yet hollow shell. The genuine warmth and compassion he once held for the Lands Between and their people are void, leaving behind only the unfeeling rays of pure gold, much like the ever-present Erdtree. He seeks to supplant Marika's Age...and then install himself as a God, just like his mother. I'm sure that he did have genuine kindness in his heart, but now...there isn't any left within him. That's why he's enforcing his will upon Moore, Ansbach, Freya, Thiollier and Hornsent. Because he's become just like Marika.

It's unfortunate, and a brilliant tale a self destruction that if correctly decoded shows how masterful Fromsoft is at this kind of storytelling. Now, I'm not claiming to be completely correct in this interpretation, since this is just my personal viewpoint of how and why things played out this way in the DLC. Feel free to drop your thoughts below, I'm more than happy to open up a disccussion about Miquella! Anyway, if you'll all excuse me, I need to go replay Shadow of the Erdtree. I'll see you all soon, but until then, Stay Tarnished everyone!

[battle-subway-ghost]

[There's an article being posted around online. Click it?]

Down The Buneary Hole Of The Team Fauna Cult

—

Team fauna is a proclaimed religious group, founded and formed by a man under the name of Wolf Fauna and located in a cavern outside of Olivine City, Johto. This group claims that the world depicted in the hit franchise Animals is real, and that ours is a false reality.

Seemingly innocent on the surface, Team fauna claims to wish to bring people towards enlightenment, all all while they "simply wish to live the way Fauna intended," specifically out of their way to state "We commit no crimes, harm nothing and no one."

Despite these claims to innocence, a further look into the actions and practices of this organization reveals a twisted world of kidnapping, abuse, brainwashing, and manipulation. This work hopes to shine light on the inner workings of Team Fauna and the recent events surrounding it.

Team Fauna pushed itself into the public eye on January 30th, as a strange invitation spread itself to many users of the website Rotumblr, reading as follows:

"Are you a seeker of the truth?

If you're receiving this message we believe you are.

Have you ever truly considered the convinces of this world, or are you still asleep

What if you had a change to escape it all, to live a real life, instead of the one you have taken.

You could reach fulfilment. Happiness. Many have.

With us you will know the truth.

To continue living in the dark is a common choice, but you may be one of the few who deviate.

We await your response with anticipation

Team Fauna"

February 1st, Team Fauna made their own blog on Rotumblr. Following this decision, many allegations arose soon after, many noticing hidden cries for help in the anonymous moderator's replies to inquiries, and eventually, a photo of a Galvantula in highly abusive conditions was uploaded, which was quickly connected to Team Fauna.

These incidents are what sparked a deeper investigation of the group; starting at Olivine City, the closest city to their alleged location. Many missing persons, primarily those reported to have gone hiking in the nearby routes, were reported, their missing posters strewn around the city.

Team Fauna itself resided in a cave and its surrounding woods far off the beaten path near Olivine City. Upon joining their group, it appears that many, if not all new members are asked to leave any partner Pokemon they may have behind prior to joining. This leaves new members far less likely to be able to confront any of the designated "guards" of the team, who are granted access to far more powerful Pokemon than other members.

Furthermore, upon initiation into this group, your name will be replaced, as you're instead given the name of one of the creatures from Animals. This makes it difficult to identify most members, as their names cannot be connected to any legal records.

Connection to the outside world is limited, if not entirely restricted. Many children are born into the cult, isolated from any sort of opposition to Team Fauna's ideals. It is unlikely that these children have legal documentation such as birth certificates.

However, the investigation goes deeper yet.

February 5th, A 17-year old named Sprite Chroma is incapacitated and kidnapped by members of Team Fauna. A bonfire is lit by Wolf Fauna, a celebration begins, and after the so-called festivities, a meeting is called.

During this meeting, Team Fauna's leader announced plans to open a cross-dimensional portal to their desired reality. Sprite Chroma is dragged in front of the crowd, and Wolf announces that he would be the first to cross through to the new world they all desired.

Over the next 15 hours, preparations were made for the ritual that would be performed soon. A member of Team Fauna took custody of the victim's phone in order to impersonate it to its friends and family.

Hour 15. 11 AM. "The last day in this world," as it was put by many in the cult. The ritual is prepared, Sprite dragged out of their cell for a second time. Wolf Fauna exits his cabin, bringing along a covered cage. As the ritual is set into action, the cloth is pulled, revealing that Team Fauna had not only found, but captured a Celebi, an elusive Mythical pokemon revered across Johto.

Celebi is forced to open a portal, but the plan goes awry. not long after the victim is forced inside, they are seemingly rejected, being spat back out, and destabilizing the portal, causing it to disappear.

Minutes after, the meeting is invaded. Many of Team Fauna's members escaped in the chaos, although it appears that the majority of the hostages and stolen Pokemon have been recovered.

As of now, the whereabouts of Wolf Fauna and other prominent members of Team Fauna are unknown. It is more than likely that they will regroup if given the time. Evidence strongly suggests that if left unchecked, the Team Fauna cult could very likely reach levels of danger comparable to that of Team Plasma or Team Galactic. We cannot let history repeat itself once again.

The author of the article appears to be remaining anonymous, save for the name "Lotus I."

[mariacallous]

In his face-off against Elon Musk, Philadelphia District Attorney Larry Krasner has already earned at least one important win.

A judge on Friday granted Krasner’s request to keep a civil lawsuit he filed against Musk and Musk’s pro-Trump America PAC in state court, rather than having it moved to federal court as the tech billionaire wished.

Musk, for his part, filed a motion seeking to quash any personal appearance he is ordered to make in court, saying that his attendance is unnecessary because the case is largely focused on actions of America PAC.

Earlier Friday morning, Musk had accused Krasner of engaging in a “rushed stage play” and a “spectacle” as he urged a federal judge to deny Krasner’s emergency request to keep the suit in state court.

Krasner sued the billionaire and his pro-Donald Trump America PAC over their pledge to give away $1 million daily to registered voters. Musk claims the giveaway is random, but Krasner alleges that Musk is intentionally targeting people in battleground states with an “illegal lottery scheme” meant to influence voters.

Musk has argued that Krasner must square off with America PAC attorneys in federal court because the lawsuit raises questions about a federal election and the federal laws that govern political action committees, not state matters.

Krasner is adamant that his lawsuit isn’t about whether Musk and America PAC are violating federal laws that ban vote-buying. Rather, the district attorney wants a state court, not a federal one, to determine whether the program violates Pennsylvania’s prohibitions against illegal lotteries.

Attorneys for Musk’s PAC filed a notice in the Eastern District of Pennsylvania federal court this week requesting to have the case remanded there. Explaining this maneuver in a brief filed Friday, a lawyer for the PAC wrote that the group’s expenditures are “political speech” and thus “entitled to First Amendment protections,” which is a federal jurisdictional issue.

But U.S. District Judge Gerald Pappert disagreed.

Musk and America PAC “have not identified any question of federal law that must be resolved in Plaintiff’s favor in order to prove either state-law claim,” Pappert’s memorandum states.

“Defendants argue the Complaint’s references to ‘the forthcoming Federal Presidential Election’ show the lawsuit necessarily raises questions of federal law,” Pappert wrote. “But federal question jurisdiction does not turn on a plaintiff’s motivations in filing suit; it turns on whether the legal issues arising from the claims originate in federal or state law.”

The ploy to have the lawsuit remanded to federal court may have been a boon for Musk anyway. The giveaway ends on Nov. 5, meaning that by the time the courts decide the next steps, the initiative will already be over.

The Justice Department warned Musk in a letter last month that he may run afoul of federal election laws against compensating voters, but Musk was undeterred.

Four giveaway winners are from Pennsylvania, a crucial swing state, according to a website for the program. So far, the PAC has given away a total of $14 million to voters who signed the petition that states they agree to support the First and Second Amendments. The website indicates that winners will be declared through Nov. 5. As of Friday, the site specified that those winners would be selected in Arizona and Wisconsin, which are also battleground states in the 2024 election.

Musk and Krasner were initially meant to face off in court on Friday, but the hearing was brought forward to Thursday. Krasner had asked to move the hearing to a more secure venue following a deluge of threats he said he received.

The DA accused Musk of amplifying inflammatory posts about him and the lawsuit on X, the social media platform Musk owns. In court records, Krasner showed Musk’s reposts from a user on X who claimed the DA knew his lawsuit wasn’t legal but “wants a leftist judge to stop it before Election Day.” Other users on the platform have threatened to come to Krasner’s house in masks and harass him.

Musk himself was a no-show at the hearing, sending his lawyers in his stead.

Attorneys for Krasner, Musk and America PAC did not immediately respond to HuffPost’s request for comment.

[deathlessathanasia]

Hi, I recently saw someone use the quote "Proserpine [Persephone] reclaimed cares not to follow her mother" from Virgil's Georgics to claim that, well, Persephone did not in fact care for Demeter, and this may be because english is not my first language and I'm misunderstanding the full quote, but like, I read the full quote, it is: "whatever you [Cesar] are to be (for Tartarus hopes not for you as king, and may such monstrous lust of empire never seize you, though Greece is enchanted by the Elysian fields, and Proserpine reclaimed cares not to follow her mother)" and to me it really sounded like Virgil saying "in case this incredible absurd things happened, I do not wish for that to happen to you" Just like it would be weird for the Elysian fields to be in Greece rather than the underworld. Again, English is not really my first language so I may be misunderstanding the quote and the other person was right that it was supposed to claim Persephone cares not for her mom

„and you too, Caesar, who, in time, will live among a company of the gods, which one’s unknown, whether you choose to watch over cities and lands, and the vast world accepts you as bringer of fruits, and lord of the seasons, crowning your brows with your mother Venus’s myrtle, or whether you come as god of the vast sea, and sailors worship your powers, while furthest Thule serves you, and Tethys with all her waves wins you as son-in-law, or whether you add yourself to the slow months as a Sign, where a space opens between Virgo and the grasping claws, Even now fiery Scorpio draws in his pincers for you, and leaves you more than your fair share of heaven): whatever you’ll be (since Tartarus has no hope of you as ruler, and may such fatal desire for power never touch you, though Greece might marvel at the Elysian fields, and Proserpine, re-won, might not care to follow her mother), grant me a fair course, and agree to my bold beginning, pitying the country folk, with me, who are ignorant of the way: prepare to start your duties, and even now, hear our prayer.” - Georgics: 1.24-42

The idea (as I understand it) is that the emperor is invoked as a future god and Vergil suggests several possible functions for him: an agrarian god, a god of the sea, a sky god, but not the ruler of the underworld even though the Elysian fields are marvelous and Proserpina doesn't want to come back from there.

Vergil definitely seems to be reworking the myth here and diverges from the traditional narrative on purpose: „Ancient commentators recognized that Proserpina's refusal to return was contra historiam (Probus, ad I.39). Servius (ad I.39) says it is Vergil's invention. The anonymous Brevis Expositio (p. 2I3 Thilo, v. III) adds that Ceres made a vain assault upon the Underworld in the attempt to retrieve her daughter, who refused to return pro loci amore.” - Patricia A. Johnston, Eurydice and Proserpina in the Georgics. Another article that discusses Vergil's Proserpina/Persephone and touches a little on this passage from the Georgics is Nondum Proserpina abstulerat: Persephone in the Aeneid.

Anyways, this idea is still anomalous (though something similar appears in one or two other Roman texts) and I wouldn't take seriously any generalizing claim about Persephone and her relationship with her mother based solely on this source. It is however a much more solid basis for these super popular modern interpretations of the myth than that alleged "original", "pre-patriarchal" version which some like to bring up in discussions, but I guess "My interpretation is based on Vergil and Lucan" sounds less cool and special than "My interpretation is actually how the myth originally went, you fool!"