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wrestlersownmyheart · 7 months

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"In Dreams" Chapter 4 (Hook X Older Female Reader)

Title: In Dreams Pairing: Hook X Older Female Reader Summary: Hook meets the woman of his dreams. Literally. The only problem? She is married in actuality. And her marriage is not the happy one she tries to portray in reality. Not to mention Y/N has a secret she failed to reveal in their shared dreams. Can Hook persuade her to leave her husband and seek the safety of his love instead? Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with AEW. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: Through the story as a whole–Domestic Abuse against a woman, this chapter has blood and violence

Chapter 4

You called in to both your jobs the next day and quit.

Derek made you.

He was convinced you were cheating with a co-worker and the only way to get you to stop was to make you quit your jobs.

In the space of twelve hours, he'd totally isolated you. You had no one.

And on top of that, you had no way to pay bills once they came due. Something you'd not been able to get through Derek's head.

You were frightened, because you knew when the bills were due you'd most likely suffer another beating for not having enough money to pay them.

You fought sleep tooth and nail. You knew there was only so long you could go without sleep, but you had to stay away from Hook. You couldn't bear for him to get hurt.

You couldn't let that happen. You'd fallen for Hook plain and simple. There was so much about him you didn't know–and he of you, but there was a lot you did know about him too. You could feel in your dreams how much he cared about you. Truly. He'd never hurt you. You just knew that.

So, you spent your time cleaning the old house and wondering why because you were most likely going to be evicted in the next couple months. But that was something your mother had instilled in you was to keep a clean house.

You had to find a way out of this marriage. You just had to.

If you didn't he was going to kill you and most likely SIenna too.

"I have to figure a way out," You thought out loud as you scrubbed the bathroom shower. "There's no other option."

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

It had been several days since Hook had seen Y/N. He was just sick. He couldn't get his mind on wrestling which used to be all he thought about. He couldn't focus on anything. He didn't care about food or working out. He didn't even enjoy sleeping since he wasn't seeing Y/N.

He headed for the showers and cleaned up quickly, and then minutes later was leaving the gym for his apartment. He was going to search for Y/N online.

Once he was sitting on his bed in his bedroom, he pulled his laptop from his backpack and began his search.

He started by Googling "Y/N Y/L/N, New England". He found numerous profiles on facebook and dug through them in search of Y/N.

About an hour, and countless photos later, he came across a picture on Google that unmistakably resembled her. He clicked on the link that took him to a Facebook profile of a woman named Y/N Y/L/N.

"Gotcha," Hook smiled and began looking through the profile. She'd not been on in about a year however. Still, it would let him know where she most likely was.

Boston, he quickly realized as he looked through her bio.

From there he went back to Google and used a reputable people search engine to locate her address and phone number.

Another half hour later, he was confidently scribbling down her address and then heading for his rental.

He was getting an immediate flight to Boston.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Derek was out at the moment, doing God only knew what, so you took that opportunity to take a much needed nap. Your fever was spiking, your body ached, both from the abuse it had taken as well as the cold–which you were beginning to wonder if it was the flu–and you were dehydrated because you couldn't keep your mind clear enough to drink fluids. You were going to have a trip to the hospital if you didn't take better care of yourself.

As for your nap, you could only hope you wouldn't run into Hook. Okay, so you actually couldn't help but wish you would, but you knew it was better for everyone involved if you didn't.

You had just flopped onto the bed, when you heard a knock at the door.

Sighing, you took the wet washcloth from your forehead that you'd been using to aid with your fever, laid it on the night table, and raised up from the bed. Slowly, you made your way down the hall to the stairs. Your sickness was taking its toll. You were recognizing the signs of needing a doctor, and soon. As you headed down the stairs, you stumbled and nearly tumbled down the last few steps. By the grace of God you caught hold of the railing and held on for dear life till your feet became more steady.

Another knock. More insistent.

"I'm… I'm coming…" You tried to call out. But it only came out a soft whisper. Your breathing was turning ragged and you wanted so badly to just curl up on the floor and go to sleep.

Finally, finally you reached the door just as a booming knock sounded. And you became afraid that Derek had gone out, got drunk, and forgotten his keys to the house.

He'll kill me now for taking so long, you thought, as you fumbled with the chain lock and then the dead bolt.

After what seemed like ages, you got the door open. Your eyes were lowered. Initially. But you slowly raised your gaze.

You saw a pair of jeans clad legs. Then a black hoodied torso.

Hook's handsome face swam before you as you lifted your eyes higher.

He looked shy for a change. Or unsure, you didn't know which. And then he saw the state you were in.

"H-Hook…" You stammered out in shock. Your heartbeat sped up and then you were sinking to the floor.

"Y/N!" He softly called your name out and latched onto your arms, holding you upright. "Baby, you're burning up! Badly!"

"You c-can't… b-be here…." you sobbed. "Derek… he'll be back any minute."'

Your legs trembled and you started to go down again. Hook uttered a soft curse and bent down, lifting you up into his arms, bridal style, noted your wince of pain.

Then he was entering your home, and kicking the door shut behind him as you finally gave in to the darkness creeping into your vision…

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Hook took a deep breath and stepped out of his rental as he eyed the ramshackle house before him. It was an old two-story building that had seen better days.

"No wonder Y/N was so nervous about me seeing her home." He thought aloud as he headed for the front porch. Well, no more. I'm going to show her that I don't care in the least what she lives in. Although, if she'll have me, I'll make sure she never has to worry about living like this any more. Never mind that Y/N was married. She obviously wasn't happy in the marriage and Hook was going to take her away from the dude, plain and simple.

He stepped up to the porch and knocked on the front door. Waited a moment and then knocked again. He could hear stirring within the front room or hallway and proceeded to pound the door again. He was halfway in a boxing stance in case he had to fight the husband right away, when the door finally opened.

Y/N stepped up to the door frame as her gaze slowly–very slowly–lifted to meet his.

Hook saw how pale she was and instantly knew something was terribly wrong. He was vaguely aware of the bruise at her jawline when she spoke softly.

"H-Hook…" she cried weakly and then went sailing for the floor.

"Y/N!" He said loudly, trying to rouse her as he grabbed at her arms and held her up. He could feel her scorching skin against his hands. "Geez, baby, you're burning up! Badly!"

"You c-can't… b-be here…." she choked out on a sob. "Derek… he'll be back any minute."'

She started to fall again and he lifted her limp frame up into his arms, cradling her against his muscled chest as he let out a low curse.

"Baby… Wake up…" he uttered, jostling her slight frame in his arms. "Please." He carried her through the hallway to the living room to find only a recliner or a love seat to lay her on. He went in search of the bedroom so he could properly lay her in bed.

He went up the stairs quickly and discovered the bedroom to be the first door on the right. He entered the room and carried Y/N over to the bed where he gently deposited her onto it. Then he picked up the cold, wet washcloth from her night table and placed it over her forehead. And that is when he fully noticed and took in her wounded state.

Her face was bruised, and she had a split lip. God only knew what else had happened to her.

"The scumbag hits her," he growled to himself. No wonder she was so scared.

"I've gotta get you to the hospital," he murmured. "You need medical help."

He started to lift her back up to carry her to his car when he heard a baby's cry nearby.

"What the-" He headed for the doorway, following the sound of the baby's wails. He moved across the hallway and found a nursery with a baby in a crib. A little girl. Less than six months old.

"What the…" He repeated. Y/N hadn't mentioned a daughter.

He cautiously stepped up to the crib, not wanting to frighten the baby. "Hey, sweetie," he said softly, and reached down, brushing his thumb over the baby's silky cheek. "You're mom's gonna be okay. I promise."

When the baby continued to cry, he awkwardly lifted her up and held her against his chest, jostling her. "Shh-shh…" Immediately, the baby quieted and snuggled against his shoulder.

"What… what are you doing?..."

Hook turned and saw you bracing yourself against the nursery's door frame. "

"Your baby was crying," he answered, jostling the infant again. "I thought I should comfort her."

"I mean…" you clearly were struggling to keep your mind focused. "I mean, what are you doing here? If Derek finds you here…"

Why didn't you tell me he hits you," Hook demanded, gently laying the baby back down in the crib. He stepped over to you and tilted her chin back with his fingers so he could get another look at you. "That son of a-"

"You have to leave, Hook. Please."

"I'm not leaving you here. As lame as this probably sounds, Y/N, I've come to take you away from here. Away from all this."

You immediately shook your head. "You can't. I can't. I mean…" you huffed a weak sigh. "He'll… He'll kill us. All of us."

"Baby, you don't know who I am if you think you can tell me something like that and then think I'll turn and walk away from you." His eyes scanned your face, took in the bruises, the cuts. "No, I'll kill him."

He pulled you into his arms. Tilted your chin back again and lowered his head. His lips a breath away from yours, he whispered, "Finally, I get to kiss you."

His mouth lowered to yours then and closed the small gap between the two of you.

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Hook's mouth was on yours and oh, was it glorious.

"Mmm," you moaned into his mouth and kissed him back. You couldn't help yourself. His lips moved against yours and his tongue slid past your lips, plundering your mouth. Your legs threatened to buckle again and Hook pulled you even closer against his chest to keep you upright.

"Pack some stuff," he murmured into your mouth. "We're getting out of here."

"I'm scared," you whispered. "If something happens to Sienna, or you…"

"I won't let anything happen to either of you. I swear," Hook reassured you, kissing you again. "Now, go pack. I'll pack the baby's stuff."

You nodded, still in a daze that Hook was standing in the middle of your house. "There's some suitcases in the hall closet." You led him over to the closet and grabbed the small suitcase for Sienna, and handed it to Hook. The larger one you took for yourself. As Hook went back to the nursery to pack for Sienna, you headed to your bedroom and began filling the suitcase with some clothes and toiletries.

A few minutes of packing passed, and then you heard the click of the bedroom door closing.

And another click.

The lock.

Afraid of what you'd see, you slowly turned and saw Derek blocking the door.

"Who is the kid in the nursery," he asked quietly, sauntering toward you. "Who is he? You've been cheating on me with a kid?" He glanced over his shoulder as if he was afraid Hook would hear him. "One scream and you are dead."

"He's… He is not a kid. And I have not been cheating on you." You said, backing up till your back hit the wall. You had nowhere to go.

Derek was close to you now, close enough to reach out and wrap his hands around your throat. Which he did. "How dare you disrespect me!"

He squeezed, choking off your air supply. You struggled, and tried to pry his hands off your throat.

"You're so dead. And so is the little brat."

This had you struggling even more.

Faintly, you heard Hook's voice behind the bedroom door.

"Baby, open the door!"

"Baby, open the door," Derek mocked as he choked you to death.

You took that moment to drive your knee up into Derek's crotch. He let out a weird groan and released you as you knew he would and you stumbled toward the door. Just as you were about to touch the lock a hand reached out and grabbed hold of your hair, yanking you back toward Derek.

The door then busted open with Hook charging into the room.

Frightened for Hook but relieved at the same time, you heard a sharp click and then felt three rapid jabs to your stomach.

"Oh!" You cried out softly at the delayed pain.

"Y/N? Baby?" Hook said, a question in his tone. His eyes were on Derek's hand at your stomach.

You looked down as well, and saw Derek's hand slowly, painfully so, twist a knife into your stomach.

"Oh," you cried again, "Oh, God… I…" You started to fall and that is when Hook came out of his horrified stupor. At first he didn't seem to know what to do. Attack Derek, or come to your aid. It didn't take but a second for him to dive to your side on the floor. At the same moment, Derek ran out the bedroom door. You were only faintly aware of what was going on around you. But you were keenly aware of Hook's arms going around you and tugging you partially into his lap. You groaned in pain and clenched your eyes shut.

"Baby, stay with me," Hook demanded, pulling out his phone.

You reached for the knife still stuck in your stomach, attempted to pull it out.

"No, sweetheart, leave it. You could bleed out if you pull it out." Hook moved your hand to rest by your side and proceeded to make a call on his phone.

"Yes, I need an ambulance and the police."

He rattled off the address and gave the reason for the call and then tossed the phone to the floor. His attention was fully on you. Blood had soaked into his hoodie and jeans but he paid it no mind at all.

"Hang on, Y/N. The ambulance is coming."

You gazed up at him through tears. You could feel yourself weakening. "I-I'm sorry, I…"

"Shhh-shhh," Hook shushed you gently, and checked your pulse.

Not good, he thought.

"I have no family…" You whispered now, growing more and more tired. "Pl-please, take care of Sienna…"

"Honey, I'll take care of her till you're well. But then you are going to raise her. You're going to be there to be her mom."

"I love you…"

"Stop it, Y/N. Tell me when you are well. Not when you're scaring the life out of me."

A tear spilled over your eye and trailed down your temple. "I love you, Hook," you whispered before succumbing to unconsciousness…

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#Hook #Hook Imagine #Hook X Reader #Hook Fan Fic #Hook Fan Fiction

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cosmic-walkers · 1 year

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a lot of the love and care for laena, rhaena and baela is only surface level and is eventually just used to prop up other characters? specifically daemon and rhaenyra.

for instance, a lot of people will get upset that alicent took laena's place as rhaenyra's best friend and say that she dserved more, which is true. laena does deserve more, she deserves better. however, they won't say anything when rhaenyra and daemon disrespect laena's memory by having sex with one another not hours before she was released into the sea, and getting married soon after.

the same people that are 'upset' about the lack of laena's narrative are again, the very people who also don't call out daemon for how neglectful of a husband he was to laena. when the deleted scene came out of daemon sleeping with the servant and cheating on laena, everyone started praising him and being happy he was bisexual, but said nothing about him cheating on his pregnant wife (and that probably led her to miscarry - daemon's treatment of her in general did). but this is supposed to be from the people who are mad that alicent took over her narrative, but also are happy when she is disrespected, discarded and ignored by rhaenyra and daemon. the very people who say that rhaenyra was daemon's true love while he was married to laena and excuse how he treated her?

The same can be said for fandom treatment of Baela and Rhaena. People were furious at Aemond for claiming Vhagar and fighting all the kids - but then were silent when Daemon flat out neglected them to go have sex with Rhaenyra.

And when all the kids were confronted Daemon went to comfort Rhaenyra and her kids, and essentially left his kids along (thank you Rhaenys). His daughters were bleeding and he didn't give a shit about them. He was quick to comfort Rhaenyra and her sons. Again, he even laughed during their mothers eulogy and literally the same side of the 'respect laena/baela/rhaena' fandom JUMPED to excuse his laughter. It was all 'he was protecting Rhaenyra' but no one gave two shits that he was disrespecting his own daughters and their mother.

I love Rhaena, Baela and Laena and they deserve better. And it's not lost on me how a lot of people who claim to love and support them only use their pain and suffering as 'gotcha' moments to drag Alicent and Aemond, because when Rhaenyra and Daemon are disrespectful and neglectful to them no one says anything. Because I 10000% am certain that if in the show Laena and Daemon were shown to actually care about and love each other, and it was clear he loved Laena over Rhaenyra, y'all would drag and be misogynstic to her the same way you are toward Alicent.

it's like you guys use alicent as a scapegoat, but in reality your faves are also awful to laena. you don't care about laena at all you only care about dragging her name to shit on alicent. but when your faves mistreat her it's suddenly okay

#laena valeryon #rhaena targaryen #baela targaryen #alicent hightower

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theold-ultraviolence · 10 months

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hey bestie,

I hope this message will find you alright! and again, pls don't worry for your reply!

OH OH, I am not sending this on anon btw to send you the photos of the mental asylum since you said that you were curious, but yeah this place was definitely something else!

(I don't have too many photos because my phone is too full BUT.. I hope it gives you an idea of the place).

I totally gotcha: I literally have just my thesis and internship to do and I feel like I have 0 energy for it. I just want to plop down somewhere and stay there and have life pass through me these days, ugh.

also I am so glad that you are getting to see him! I truly was hoping that you could because it'd have been a shame and pls don't apologize, I wholly gotcha because I am the same!

(I am also waiting for some concert news so I gotcha the trepidation and excitement!).

(and I am glad you enjoyed the graph thingy - not me going like 'which graph thingy' because I am a dumbass. I haven't been able to listen onto more because I set up to do my thesis and the sole songs that I could listen to where 'we didn't start the fire' by fall out boy and 'vampire' by olivia rodrigo).

but tomorrow I have to take the train so catch me listening to it while on the train!

and yeah I gotcha! I live with other people at uni and we share spaces and I ain't going to lie, I feel like my patience has greatly improved because they are a SERIOUS mess. like one roommate never EVER put back the toilet paper once it is finished, while another will put alarms at 6 a.m. and then not wake up because she didn't need it (but guess who got woken up?).

in general the more I go on, the more I think that people shouldn't be allowed to co-habit together because the murder rate would go crazily. also, I gotcha about the bathroom, I truly TRULY enjoy keeping it clean, cleaning the sink and bidet and general stuff when I use it (like superficially not deep cleaning) but the amount of time I found rest of toothpaste or hair... I ... am also chomping the drywall.

also I wanted to first of all say that I am sorry to hear that about your grandma but it's a situation I also know all too well.

my grandmother had a brother who died and left his wife a widow all too early. my grandma had taken onto taking care of this woman alongside my grandpa (although my grandma has different health problems and hence she'd often rely onto my mother, who is already stressed). it was also a monetary help as they left to her a bit of money that my grandmother's mother had left to her daughters (although after she died we discovered that she had more than enough money to take care of herself).

this woman started to showcase different health problems (comprehended an inability to take care of herself on her own, because she forgot stuff and couldn't walk around) in the last three years and, although she had older nephews (that DO live in another city but like that I think are retired and not working), they never came to help her or take care of her, instead delegating her problematics to my grandmother (and in turn to my grandpa and mother, which created a stressful situation).

the funniest part is that when this woman died, the nephews came and took everything and basically although my mother and grandmother helped her greatly (as she also didn't want a private caretaker), she didn't think of writing a will and neither leaving us anything of sentimental value.

(like not to seem like we wanted to take advantage of that woman, but she'd often tell my mother that 'she'd give back to her for her help'. instead we just were her own free caretakers and I ain't going to lie but such a thing make my grandma suffer a whole lot and my mom is worried that she might fall ill again).

so yeah, I gotcha and although I don't think it's a gender only problematic in my case, I think that people truly are often blinded by their ego. I do hope still, that your grandpa might get a bit of rest.

(also this is more related to 'lady chatterley's lover' but there's this - scary - statistics about the fact that men will always leave their wives/partners if they are found ill, INSTEAD if they are the ones falling ill, women won't, which honestly makes me reflect a whole lot about ever getting married or in a serious relationship).

oh no no, I gotcha. like I don't think that it's safe to be a woman ANYWHERE, BUT... I do feel like there are different levels of safety and comfortability based on different places.

(like the city where I am going to intern, a girl who is already there told me that it is extremely safe at night and the most she saw was a drunk altercation).

also, I gotcha. in all truth, I just feel like I am missing out on so many experiences also because I don't have my own gain and I do hope to be able to soon make some money of my own, as that might help me further feel independent and also enjoy better life. but yeah, I gotcha!

but if it helps, I do believe that although the whole teen-twenties experience is sold as universal, it isn't many that are able to enjoy it fully and many cases it has some behind the scenes mechanism that are very limited. so, I do recognize the feeling but believe me: we have so much time and ability to do what we think we have lost, I truly believe it!

oh no bestie, I gotcha! like in all truth I have become chiller about the food, it's just that indeed when things aren't as they should be I tend to ugh... go a bit crazy.

and I gotcha, my mom is the EXACT same, also because I don't know about your own but sometimes I'd be ranting to my mom for the sake of ranting and she comes in giving me a whole lecture on life or saying I complain too much, I just... ugh... need to vent, I ain't looking for a life lesson.

like on thursday we had the bathroom almost flooded because the dumbasses workers forgot to link a tube and they opened the water to check in so the tube let in water (thankfully I was in the bathroom and I was quick to ask for help so nothing happened). but I was PANICKING hard and calling my mother and later she told me that I should handle between panic and these situation and I was like 'MA'AM IT AIN'T A NORMAL SITUATION'.

like, I get that it wasn't as bad and I should have been rational but I was straight up panicking.

so yeah, I wholly gotcha and the whole visa thing would have been truly annoying if it didn't happen. like maybe it isn't the end of the world but losing money and opportunities ain't ever a good thing and neither a comfort, so I gotcha why you were nervous about it.

oh yeah, in all truth I can see why that might be annoying in a book. I ain't going to lie I read this 500 pages book a few weeks ago and I was skipping through some povs because they were just plain boring (like there was this old couple always having sex and I was like 'thank you but thank you not. you could be my parents').

so, I totally gotcha your need to back off for a bit and I am glad you are enjoying your current reading.

(also I gotcha about finishing books. like I used to finish 6-7 a month and now I am lucky if I get to one in a month, ugh. my parents were always like 'yeah when you'll reach our age, you won't be able to read all these books' and now I am already losing ground)

I am going to note down your suggestions and I have always been curious about 'misery' because I really enjoy the concept and 'the mist' I do know about it but always superficially so I shall definitely add them to my to-buy list (although I bought some books like two days ago, because they always get me with the promotions: buy three and you get a cute tote bag ugh).

ok bestie, I haven't read too much (I am 150 pages in, but mostly because when I have to work with my computer, I always end up reading a lot less, so I am hopeful to have a bit of off time this weekend), but I ain't going to lie when clifford proposed the child thingy I was like 'did I read this correctly?'

(also I hate clifford. I genuinely thought I'd find pity for him but this man... ugh. probably one of the few fictional characters I can't stand).

AND YEAH I GOTCHA! in all truth I have read just a few sex descriptions and I am surprised how in line with female views they are.

(although I don't know if you know but his own lover inspired such a book so I guess he had a feminine experience to base himself on).

I have seen a few clips from the adaptation on tik toks, so I can't judge but I do know of another adaptation (with richard madden) made in 2015 that I have heard is far more faithful to the book.

AND OH GODS, I HADN'T REALIZED! but yeah, eddie is improvised waterslides and cold beers against your back when you least expect it while aemond is sticking your head in his sweater when you are cold and making him hot cocoa. oh bestie if we ain't literature geniuses!

listen... jack and his accent are growing onto me and I might try to catch up onto sas once I come back home because here at uni I have more a scattered mind and I tend to rewatch my favorites series but at home... I just might... for.. for the fact that I am interested in that historical period... I mean... of course... *john mulaney's voice* no other reason.

listen... we should move to derby. I am just saying, but at this point I just think that it'd be the best option possible for us.

bestie, in all truth, I don't think that we all know all the ways to say something in italian (even more because they tend to create new ones) and I always discover something new (like 'cicca' has a whole lot of meanings, like 'chewing gum' but also 'the finished cigarette' and in some southern parts 'joint').

so believe me, it's totally alright to feel confused and a whole lot of time also us italian are but with time and experience I am sure the you'll be able to understand it all!

(also will patiently wait for the explanation for 'lupo'/'lobo').

and I gotcha, in all truth yesterday my brain was just turned to smush as I was talking with friends, trying to write more and using tumblr. so truly one thing at the time and certainly those courses aren't running away. if it helps you, it'll be money wasted even if you try to do them with an unfocused brain and you can't learn properly so it's better if you do them in your best headset although it might take some time.

and pls, YOU are the one keeping me a whole lot of company so thank you for sticking around and still replying to my silly messages on here!

thank you, I am going back home so I hope to relax and I hope that you'll be able to enjoy your time and have fun, as well!

sending HUGE hugs back and have a lovely rest of the week

-🌗

ehehe mysterious bestie, hello!!!

Ohhh no way that place DOES look magical like I wouldn't have guessed what it actually was from a first glance!? Deadass looks like some estate in some period film where a lot of romantic drama ensues lkjlkfjgflkdjh. I can see how that got your imagination running! thank you sm for sharing!!

OOH CONCERT NEWS! what concert? (if it's okay to share of course) whoever it is, I hope they're great news as well! and also aaaaah I haven't listened to We Didn't Start The Fire by Fall Out Boy and I need to do that sooner rather than later! I've been too in my feelings listening to Oingo Boingo and Danny Elfman and that's all that I've been playing 24/7 eheheh. A7X will make its comeback in my ears when that concert nears.

Also re: sharing spaces, I KNOW! I'm having war flashbacks from when I lived in Toronto and I was all cooped up at this lady's house with her two sons and her nephew and oh boy. OH BOY. OH boy oh boy oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. On my last days there, I took a trip to Niagra Falls and I was out all day. I hadn't really eaten anything during the whole day so when I got back I was STARVING. But when I got back I was SO MAD because I couldn't make myself anything because I kid you not, all the cutlery was dirty, not a single plate or glass was available to use. And they had left their mess out in the kitchen like crazy people and I was so disgusted by it that I was like, thnx my appetite is gone lmao.

I'm so sorry to hear about that situation, bestie, it sounds absolutely awful and the saddest part is just how common it is for this sort of thing to happen? the part about the nephews barging in to claim they're due when they never lifted a finger to help is SO REAL and so maddening!! No, I absolutely understand the toll it took on your mom and grandmother. I also worry about my mom constantly because, since she's literally the only one helping and giving my grandpa money, besides working, I know she's so stressed and I fear every day that she'll be ill next. And I just KNOW what you say about the nephews is what will happen in my case with my uncles because it is 100% a similar situation with them. It sucks and it's really harsh to hear that something you're going through with shitty family members when there's a sickness to deal with is so common. It seriously shouldn't be this way and the way that some people can't look beyond their own noses and past their egos is just, ughhhhhh, truly sickening.

And also I'm so happy that you're going to a place that's gonna be safe in that regard!! I know that just for that fact alone you are going to enjoy it SO MUCH, and I'm giddy just thinking about you going to your internship! I know you've mentioned that it's been stressful to prepare and rearrange stuff for it, but it's gonna be so worth it. And I totally get you about it having to do with money too. In all truth, I think this age is quite difficult because there's so much out of our control and that it's hard to get passed that. Like what we mentioned about safety, and also our personal finances, and being dependent on support of our parents for a lot of things still. Oh gosh, for me one thing I also feel kinda holds me back is the whole 'virgin who can't drive' thing slglgkjdhkj because so much of my plans are also dependant of finding someone that can drive me places, ughh. But yeah! I'm hopeful that as we grow out of this age, things will start feeling a little bit better!

AND NO I WHOLLY GET YOU MY MOM IS THE EXACT SAME! Again, with the visa thing, I was in TEARS bestie, TEARS because I was so frustrated about it, and she was like, 'listen i know danny elfman is your dream, but you gotta put your feet on the ground and deal with what's happening in the now' AND I WAS LIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW DARE!!! CAN'T YOU SEE LIFE IS BUT A DREAM? (see what I did there?) heheh. I AM trying as you are to get better at dealing with situations. Like if I'm ever in distress of that kind I'm trying to school my thoughts into going, 'this can be fixed. all I need to do is take it step by step' but it's so easy to PANIC, and soooo so difficult to just, chill out.

Re: books. Oh gosh I feel like you're FAST though, like you're already in the Venice chapters of Lady Chatterley!?????? I feel like you started that book so recently!!! I wish I was that quick bestie because I tell you I'm still dragging with Salem's Lot. I will definitely check out the adaptation that you mention because by now I feel like I need to watch them all (although Jack O'Connell raised the bar so high for me with his take on Mellors ngl). I would pay millions to see Ewan play Mellors s;dlfkjglkjg. Also I know we literally just said about the book club with Jane Austen, but do let me know if, and when you end up diving into Stephen King, because I enjoy listening to your thoughts immensely!!

AND PLEASE I AM DYING. I tagged you in a fanart that I think encapsulates Eddie being a summer kind of love SO WELL UGH. He just iiiiiis. And it occurs to me that nearly all the fanart I've seen of Aemond he's in sweaters and jackets and stuff so, guhhhh there's something about these two that are the perfect combo for the seasons of the year. I'm weak, I'm melting just thinking about it. And the more I think about it, the more I'm LEGIT MAD they aren't real. Which is why I fully endorse us moving to Derby or just england in general to scout for our Joe Quins and Ewan Mitchells s;kjfglkgj.

I'm dying with 'Cicca' meaning all of those things!?? I'm imagining having a conversation with someone and telling them you're chewing gum and them interpreting a whole other thing lol. In here, a lot of words have like, double-meaning but in a dirty way lol. 'Chaqueta' means 'Jacket' but also literally 'jerk off'. Or like, 'huevos' (eggs) is also a colloquial way to refer to man's balls kdjslkjg. There's is literally a movie here THAT'S FOR KIDS, that's called 'Una Pelicula de Huevos' (An egg movie) but the double entendre of 'De Huevos' is like, 'A movie with BALLS' and the whole movie is comprised of these dirty double-entendre jokes that you totally miss as a kid but as an adult you're like, 'how is this for kids!!!!!?'

This totally doesn't have anything to do with anything other than languages being silly lol. But seriously, thank you! you're so right about the money being wasted. It kinda stings but you're absolutely right. I'm hoping next week I have the chance to do it though, because the trip I was going to got cancelled :( and also thank you for your never-ending patience with sharing stuff about Italy/the Italian language with me, bestie!!

I hope you had an amazing weekend filled with rest and indulgence, and I wish you a good start of the week! sending you the biggest, tightest hug! x

#🌗

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the-everlasting-downpour · 1 year

Text

Misc. posts from the old blog.

Feb. 21st.

(responding to one of my messages) Only the last one is normal. Others are… meh.

care to suggest?

Let make Square a “soldier of free will” Like, he goes to serve on positivity and romance And then just gets curbstomped by the sheer reality.

Cudda could be more influential. So that he would lead others. But then sucked on hard one And dissapointed everyone. (He also can be finished by the news about others’ failures.)

And Blixter… “Hostage of the circumstances” sounds plain. We need a predestination for that kind of suffering.

square’s literally been forced to play with the devil. he understands that by his experience. he has no free will and is sent to do as required from him, otherwise it will end poorly.

cudda from the beginnings is a brain behind the operation. even before the events became apparent, he made some staggering progress.

and blixter ended up in this mess while coming out from a rich family. behind him is his bodyguard. he is a hostage of circumstances, as he acknowledges, that the bodyguard isn’t always able to save him.

…Yeah. Right. Gotcha. A bias toward ordinariness.

that’s canon. what can i do? i myself have destined to make a continuation while remaining maximally canon. in this set i can’t go any other way. and even if i could, i wouldn’t, as i know the canon. c'est la vie.

Feb. 24th.

idk how, but it got harder to write not, like, harder to write things down, but harder to create some good scenery for example, chapter 3 i made it? i did is it good? it is but it’s like some art house films with a 2 mil. budget - it could’ve been done better i’ll spend some more time creating chapters 4 & 5. maybe 2-3 weeks or so i’ll also look if i can make progress on other shit or not

A, So you are, like, tired of the project But not, like, entirely

yeah like, i have motivation

And then you’ll burn out

nah, i don’t bind to anything that much it’s like sex - you always need a condom

Mar. 5th.

i’ll not lie to you, but i feel bad about Alex and Reekis more than M.

I feel bad for how Reekis turned out and also Alex too, you were right, this chapter was suffering

fyi, Alex actually loved M., secretly. she hoped, that the relationship between M. and Penti will not stay for long and she could snitch him out of anybodys’ grasp. and M. liked her, too. and Reekis… do you think he wanted this? he was 19 in the day when he was arrested. he was naive and easy to manipulate. and so he was used to burn the church. i lied, that everybody got arrested. everybody ran, and Reekis got the blame. but even when he knew he will suffer himself, he couldn’t stop his pride.

I did sense something between Alex and M but rn my focus is on Reekis because he was like, one of my favorites and to see him in this state was sad (with the context of young and naive) He got on the bad lane of things, poor dude.

and also Eugene. not only he was the soul of the company - he was the one who gave both Reekis and M. an opportunity to make their plan work. my friend, with which i talk a lot about this project, said, that i should’ve removed him entirely, as he was nonimportant to the story. at some degree he was right. hence, Eugene got a simple death of being a victim of a mall shooting.

The moment I read Eugene died I was like “how is M. Gonna recover from this” He didn’t

if the gaps between deaths would’ve been more, and if he himself didn’t get beaten from those mysterious people, he could’ve recover. even for a man of reason and intelligence this totality can be fatal. and that has happened.

It was the snowball rolling down the snow covered hill effect

an avalanche, so to speak.

Mar. 5th.

how do you think, does the concept “the more simple the description - the sadder the reader” work with death of an character?

I don’t think so You can make an intense situation first, Only for it to end in nothingness. A simple description of death makes it dry, boring and somewhat usual

ok, i have Eugene’s death. i want to make it simple against the background of John’s death, for which i wrote the final scene of his funeral in chapter six and the opening scene in chapter seven, where M. deals with what the deceased John handed him in a beautiful box. and i decided, by design, to make Eugene a victim of mass-shooting in the shopping mall. the intensity is already there - M. is already suffering after John’s death. and there’s another portion of it added via Eugene’s death.

So, Eugene leaves the land after John, if i understand it correctly?

yea. a lot of time has passed after John’s death and after his funeral

Uh-huh… And you want to make the second death less significant But it has to hit M. hard

no. it adds additional dread to the feelings after John’s passing.

like, John was with him in the army, and his father tells M. about John’s problems and that M. was his only friend.

see: John (significant) Eugene (additional) Reekis (additional (Reekis does not die, but goes to jail because he burned down the church) M.’s group (significant) The attempt on M.’s life (very significant)

In fact, we can do without Eugene He doesn’t mean much at all

too late - i wrote the scene down.

Then why remove him at all?

it’s an additional scene.

and otherwise the collage would be unfinished.

Getting those symbols, eh?

this is one of the reasons. even if on the surface Eugene means little, it does not mean that he is not needed at all.

For me It doesn’t make sense M. is already in a tilt because of John So why does he have to be in a tilt because of Eugene? He’s practically a nobody

#The World of TED

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years

Text

How the IMF loan-sharks the global south

When you take out a loan or get a credit card, the headline figure is the “APR” — the annual percentage rate of interest. But anyone who’s ever borrowed because they were poor and needed money has learned the hard way that APRs are pure fiction.

To get the true APR (what economists politely call the “effective” APR) you have to factor in the fees, penalties and other gotchas that turn reasonable seeming interest rates into perennial, inescapable debt-traps.

Take student debt. During the 2020 presidential campaign, we had a debate about student debt forgiveness, whose opponents frequently cited the “unfairness” of allowing people to “escape their responsibilities.”

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

In their telling, student debt forgiveness would reward fecklessness, allowing people who got the benefit of an expensive education to duck the costs.

Now, even if you ignore the farcical inflation in university tuition and expenses (for example, the 1000%+ hike in textbooks driven by ed-tech monopolists), that’s still a highly selective account of how student debt works.

Student debt is negotiated from a position of weakness and naiveté, which allows lenders to attack the poorest grads with incredible fees and penalties. “Chris” took out $79k in student loans in 1982. He’s paid back $190k. He still owes $236k.

https://taibbi.substack.com/p/student-loan-horror-stories-borrowed

That’s not the magic of compound interest. It’s the magic of loan-sharking. If you’ve ever used a payday lender (aka a “fintech startup” AKA a “loan shark”), none of this will be the least bit surprising. This form of usury is as old as Christ casting out the money-changers.

The payday lending industry didn’t invent these tactics, but they refined, automated and industrialized them, then they spent millions at Trump hotels and (in a stunning coincidence) all those tactics were blessed by the US finance regulators.

https://www.propublica.org/article/trump-inc-podcast-payday-lenders-spent-1-million-at-a-trump-resort-and-cashed-in

The normalization of loan-sharking sent the entire finance sector into a race to the bottom. America’s largest banks saw their profits soar during the pandemic due to record overdraft and other fees — in other words, collecting fines for being poor.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/22/ihor-kolomoisky/#usurers

The sums are jaw-dropping. In 2020, Jpmorganchase made $1.5b on overdraft fees, Bank of America made $1.1b and Wells Fargo made $1.3b. The biggest rake came from the worst months of the pandemic.

https://prospect.org/economy/big-banks-charged-billions-in-overdraft-fees-during-pandemic/

78.3% of all overdraft fees come from just 9.2% of bank customers. At $35 a pop, these fees turn the banks’ overdraft facilities into loans with an “effective APR” of 3,500%.

Three thousand.

Five hundred.

Percent.

These are the cold, bloodless numbers of the debt trap. They conceal a vicious cycle in which those with the least pay the most, a cycled that can’t even be outrun in death.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

Take a moment to (re)read Molly McGhee’s Paris Review essay from May 2021, “America’s Dead Souls,” about her mother’s death. McGhee’s mom made less than $10k/year and suffered “debilitating depression while caring for aging parents.”

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

Her mother was haunted by two warring clans of ghouls: debt collectors who harassed her through legal and illegal means, and con artists who located her through databases of struggling debtors and tried to sell her predatory consolidation loans.

48 hours after her mother’s death, these blood-suckers switched to harassing McGhee, as she grieved her loss. Unlike her mother, McGhee had the resiliency and wherewithal (a credit card) to hire a lawyer, whose boilerplate letter reduced the debt by 90%, over $250k, poof.

If you can afford a lawyer, your parents’ debts don’t become yours. If you can’t, you enter a cycle of intergenerational poverty, with each generation sinking deeper into debt.

When you have nothing and owe everything, debt collectors know that they have to terrorize you into putting their bills ahead of the others. The cruelty is literally the point — without it, you might pay your rent ahead of your mother’s old credit-card bills.

To quote Umair Haque, “America is the the world’s first poor rich country.” an “advanced economy” where a sizable portion of the population lives in conditions typical of the global south.

https://eand.co/the-worlds-first-poor-rich-country-c411afc68539

Not for nothing. The same tactics that impoverish the vast American underclass also work to keep the world’s poorest countries — rich in resources and talent — poor. The loan shark here is far more powerful than a payday lender or even JP Morgan — it’s the IMF.

A new report from the Center for Economic and Policy Research dissects the way the IMF uses fees and penalties to trap the poorest countries in the world in unbreakable cycles of debt — fees that drive up the IMF’s notional APR to dizzying, usurious heights.

https://cepr.net/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/IMF-Surcharge-Report-2.pdf

Like any predatory loan, these “surcharges” are levied against the countries that have the least ability to repay. They target countries whose debt:GDP ratio passes an arbitrary line. For the poorest IMF debtors, surcharges account for 45% of all non-principle repayment.

These numbers add up. In Egypt, surcharges gobbled up $1.8b between 2019–24 — triple the cost of fully vaccinating the whole country. Small wonder that the world’s 64 poorest countries spend more on external debt payment than they do on their own health care.

In its defense, the IMF offers the same tissue-thin responses that any arm-breaker offers. The claim that penalties and fees are a way to “incentivize” debtor nations not to overborrow, and to seek their credit from the private finance sector.

But these countries are borrowing to pay off their debts — often debts that date back to colonial times, in which the rich (white) world mercilessly looted their resources and fomented destabilizing political divisions.

This undermined domestic resistance to imperialism and allowed kleptocratic, corrupt leaders to thrive — leaders who borrowed heavily to finance vanity projects, corrupt enrichment of domestic elites, and militarized suppression of opposition movements.

All of that was funded by debts, often from the IMF, who tied lending to the dismantling and sell-off of state enterprises, from power to water to sanitation — which is how the world’s poorest get gouged by the world’s richest to drink their own water.

These countries don’t borrow because they want to live outside their means — they borrow because they want to live. They don’t borrow from the IMF because they’re too lazy to ask a multinational bank for credit — they borrow because they can’t get credit elsewhere.

But the IMF has another excuse for this: they claim that the fees they extract allow them to originate more loans, creating a virtuous cycle. But as the report makes clear, this is absurd on its face.

The IMF went into the pandemic boasting about $1 trillion in “firepower” (that’s creepy-cutesey IMFspeak for “cash reserves”). Meanwhile, the annual revenues from these fees is $1b — that’s three orders of magnitude less than that “firepower.”

That means that the IMF could simply give up on these punitive fees, levied against the poorest people in the world, at an annual cost of 0.01% of its reserves. Literally, the cruelty is the point.

The point of all of this? The victims of usury are all in the same boat — in the USA and around the world. The same tactics, the same excuses, the same misery, from Cairo to the Caribbean to Cleveland.

Not all debt is created equal, of course. If you’re Elon Musk or Peter Thiel, you can get sweetheart loans and roll overs that let you avoid almost all taxation through the fiction that you earn no income, even as you amass hundreds of billions.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/08/leona-helmsley-was-a-pioneer/#eat-the-rich

And of course, if you’re a government with debts denominated in the currency you issue, it’s not really “debt” at all — the only way the US government can run out of dollars is by ordering its employees not to type more dollars into existence in a central bank spreadsheet.

Indeed, you couldn’t ask for a starker example of the difference between monetarily sovereign nations and postcolonial countries that owe debts in the currencies of their former conquerors. Venezuela can’t spend its way out of US dollar debt by creating bolivars.

Like McGhee’s mother, whose debts turned out to be fictions that disappeared as soon as a professional with credentials and access to the levers of power printed out a boilerplate letter, these countries’ debts are cruel fictions.

The powerful and wealthy can indulge these fictions or ignore them, as they choose. For example, finance-friendly politicians can insist that the “debt ceiling” must not be raised, for political purposes.

When the US declines to do the trivial data-entry that would make the money to pay its sovereign “debts,” the consumption that the money would have funded still takes place — financed not by the democratic state, but rather by a loan-shark.

National financial “prudence” interrupts the normal and benign process of sovereign money-creation, opening space for usury — private borrowing from the vampires and ghouls whose 3,500% APRs are redeemed through terror.

The cruelty is the point.

Image: Sbw01f (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Developed_and_developing_countries.PNG

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Image: А. Н. Миронов https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:%D0%98%D0%B7%D0%B3%D0%BD%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D0%B5_%D1%82%D0%BE%D1%80%D0%B3%D1%83%D1%8E%D1%89%D0%B8%D1%85_%D0%B8%D0%B7_%D1%85%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%BC%D0%B0._XXI_%D0%B2%D0%B5%D0%BA.jpg

CC BY-SA: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic

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systlin · 3 years

Note

Anyway as someone who was raised catholic and for whom catholicism is actually an important part of my identity (despite no longer considering myself as a part of the faith) this whole enfolding drama is like genuinely pissing me off. One of the only tenants of catholicism that still differentiates itself from other branches of Christian faith is the belief that god's love is not unconditional. One must lead a good life, full of good actions; your belief, your repentance, your ritual observation of mass, means Nothing. Anon hate, can and will send you to hell. Like,,, those are the Rules, thats how it works. Do good to others, and if you don't, suffer torture in purgatory for your sins. Faith is about what You do, not what others do. Additionally.... the Bible is not the Word of God. The Bible is an arrangement of gospels, interpretations of What God Might Want, by disciples. When practicing any faith based upon written word, it is the fundamental duty of practioners to think critically about the text, and how its been translated. Thats why catholics have the opportunity to go to catholic schools, where the discussion and debate of theology is fundamental to overall education. In fact mass is almost always the dissection and critical analysis of an excerpt from the Bible! You all seem to be wrapped around the axel of Thou shalt not worship false idols,, or the idea that the worship of other deities other than the one true God is sin. If you've ever put any time or effort or energy into your faith, you'd have analyzed its historical context and have asked yourself "who benefits from this idea?"or "why might this be mentioned in the Bible? Why is it considered a cardinal sin?" and have thought about the fact that Roman Catholics/Christians became christian because the Roman emperor Constantine forcibly converted the whole of his dominion from their polytheistic paganism. I wonder what incentives the religious scholars translating and assembling religious texts, likely at the behest of Constantine himself, would have for making the worship of other deities a sin! I literally can't stand people who commit bad acts under the guise of God. Guess what! God doesn't care that you did it for him! God will still see you punished for your cruelty. (I'm sorry this is so long I just got so worked up... smh...)who are you to declare blasphemy from behind the hood of cowardice? Who are you lob around christianity and catholicism as if they're hollow gotchas to shame others? Human faith is precious, the study of theology is precious! To demean the sanctity of these universally human things is barbarous. And why? Because a woman minding her own business with her own gods frightens you? You should speak your fears to your own God instead of using them as excuses to harm others... and like I follow this lady!! Shes made of tougher stuff than this! Gnats upon the back of a mountain! But it upsets me that its these petty hurtful people who masquerade as godly folk; that these are the people acting as mouthpieces for their religious communities, when I know that these are not tenants of catholicism. I'm just ugh 😡 cant wait to see yall try and explain this shit to god. Good luck dipshits. (Also yes im on anon because I am not a mountain and these mean people would make me cry)

See, nonnie, you are

1. Correct.

2. A better Christian than so, so many, and more ought to be like you.

#Anonymous

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chamerionwrites · 3 years

Text

Cheers to all the people reblogging that tragedy post for being extremely civil and reasonable by comparison to the usual Tumblr experience of going lowkey viral. You're all excellent human beings.

Since I'm currently moonlighting as a tragic fiction defense blog, however, I do want to indulge in some mostly good-natured grumbling based on major themes in the notes:

1. This is not actually why I hate tragedy - Listen man, I did explicitly say "one reason" people dislike tragic fiction, not "The Reason."

2. But poorly written tragedy is awful - So are poorly written happy/triumphalist endings! They can even (speaking as someone with trauma-adjacent flinch responses to certain things that Tumblr often describes as "soft" or "wholesome") be extremely painful to read, at times. Bad fiction is allowed to exist and you are allowed to criticize it accordingly without that badness being treated as a reflection on the entire genre to which it belongs.

3. Tragedy is not my cup of tea because real life is hard enough/stories that make me feel doom and helplessness are unhealthy for my depression/I'm too empathetic to handle characters suffering/etc - (a) You're super valid and I super support you but also (b) your experiences are not universal. To their great credit nobody in the notes has said this, but I have encountered FAR too many people on this website confidently claiming that only someone who has never faced hardship, and/or someone thick-skinned and unfeeling toward others' pain, could possibly enjoy tragedy. As a person who has in fact faced hardship and who cannot even squash spiders because it makes me feel too guilty, I personally resent this.

(When I was depressed tragic stories reminded me that flawed people who failed were still worthy of compassion, so y'know. People process their experiences differently and that's okay.)

4. Some authors use tragedy to punish the reader for caring about the characters and 5. Griping about ASOIAF/GOT, which I am choosing to address together because they are so frequently mentioned in the same breath - Okay. Rant incoming but while I have many complaints about ASOIAF (in fact I quit reading midway through) and even more about GOT (which I quit watching even earlier), I'm extremely tired of hearing people accuse GRRM of being a cynical edgelord merely because a lot of his characters die. Maybe it's just conflation of the TV show's poor execution with the writing itself, but I constantly encounter people framing the series' numerous deaths as a kind of Gotcha punishment (why are people so hung up on tragedy-as-punishment?!) for the audience for being naive enough to get attached and/or have hope - an admonishment that life is unfair and you should get used to it and if you're sad it's your own fault for caring too much.

#1, Martin has many flaws as a writer but failure to get inside characters' heads and make you care about them is not one (he gave a strikingly sympathetic POV to the dude who threw a 7yo out a window, ffs); #2, "Men's lives have meaning, not their deaths" is literally right there in the text. So if your takeaway as a reader is "these characters die, therefore their stories were meaningless and I wasn't supposed to care about them"...sorry mate but you may have brought the cynical edgelord-ism with you.

Just. As a general rule. No author on the planet wants you NOT to care about their characters, and if you feel like you're being punished for doing so then with limited exceptions you might be projecting your own feelings onto the author's motives in a very uncharitable way (that is also pretty bad literary analysis).

6. Tragedies are badly written if the reader can see another way out and 7. General discussion of tragic flaws/hamartia as punitive - I don't entirely agree but I don't actually want to grumble about this, I want to make a separate post because I think both points are useful and illuminating ones wrt the nuance of what I'm trying to say about tragedy as a story structure.

#DON/T RE/BLOG PLEASE #tiny bit personal and also I'm well aware that I'm doing a bit of indulgent ax-grinding #as I said 1000% valid for tragedy not to be your personal thing!#but I am extremely tired of tumblr moralizing nonsensically about it #my posts #on writing #tragedy stan blogging

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ms-hells-bells · 2 years

Note

1/3 So I was talking to a friend about how I'm transitioning to veganism. She asked me the common question "But plants are alive, so what's the difference?" so I explained and also mentioned towards the end that plants do not have a central nervous system and so are not "alive" in the exact same sense that animals are. She asked, then, why vegans don't eat oysters because oysters don't have a CNS either and so, according to the definition I gave, are just as alive as plants are.

2/3 I thought she was bullshitting me at first but I'm struggling to find anything that shows the contrary, if you have anything I'd love to have it on hand. But her perspective was, such a large part of veganism focuses on the fact that we are torturing and murdering conscious, sentient beings--but if there is no current scientific evidence that oysters can suffer or feel pain, then why do we advocate against their consumption? Is it not ethical to eat them if no harm is being done?

3/3 And if not, and if the argument is that they MIGHT have more consciousness than we know, why do we not apply that same logic to other living things, such as plants, because they MIGHT truly suffer? So now here I am. I just told her I'd get back to her. That was all I could do. I had no idea how to respond and I feel dumb for it but this is something I've genuinely never considered. I got my ass handed to me here tbh :( Do you have any perspective/wisdom for this clueless newbie? first of all, the easy response to the plants suffer too thing is "oh, so you'll go vegan too then since you care?" because far more plants need to be harvested for an omnivorous diet due to the fact that livestock have to eat too. the vast majority of our produced soy and corn goes to livestock. so, omnivores both eat plants directly as well as eat many times more plants indirectly. going vegan reduces plant suffering :) not that she will, she doesn't actually care about plants or oysters, she is simply looking for any way to refute what you're saying, and think one single 'gotcha' grey area means that the entire philosophy can be thrown away. meanwhile she's not doing shit in regards to animal suffering.

yes, oysters do not have a central nervous system, and, similar to, say, coral or sea sponges, are in the kingdom animalia as extremely early ancestors and it actually took quite a long time to taxonomically recognise them as more closely related to animals than plants. BUT studies do show that they try to avoid negative stimuli, so they may feel something, even if it's not pain as WE perceive it. and there is simply not enough current research because we may not be able to understand their signals for pain since they are so removed from us. but i think it's a rather disingenuous argument, because most people simply do not eat oysters. they are expensive, slimy, nasty, and nowadays are high in heavy metals and pollutants, like many shellfish. they literally shit and are full of faeces. they hold no unique nutrient. you can just...not eat them, regardless of nervous system, there's no one stuck with the choice "eat oysters or die". why are they trying so hard to find loopholes in a lifestyle that simply seeks to reduce harm?

there's also the harm done by catching or farming them. farming requires space and food. what do you feed them? if you catch them, then how do you avoid bycatching or indirectly harming other marine life? they are filter feeders, what happens when you ransack the ocean ecosystem of them? and then once you start trying to find loopholes like this, what else will one try to loophole? oysters are molluscs, so can we also eat snails? octopi are molluscs, and for a very long time we thought they felt nothing, but they are in fact not only highly intelligent, only a third of their neurons are actually in their brain, the rest are in their tentacles, so they can't 'feel' the same way we do, but we now know they do in fact feel pain. it is simply easier and more consistent to just go "okay, anything in the kingdom animalia is off limits", because otherwise we just continue viewing other life as open to exploit. until recently we didn't think insects feel pain, or a lot of other life. especially marine life period, we have a terrible track record with it. it's still a common myth that fish don't feel pain. tldr: oysters are kingdom animalia, vegans do not touch kingdom animalia, the end. and vegans use less plants in total, so we reduce alleged 'plant suffering' more than omnis do. if there is a percent possibility that shellfish feel pain, then why risk it when it's unnecessary?

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battlinghurricanes · 3 years

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LITYERSES HEADCANONS!!!!!!!

I saw some other headcanon posts for him, so I felt inspired to throw my own ideas out there! I think some of my headcanons are pretty different from the ones a lot of people have of him, but I always like reading other people’s ideas so hopefully people will like this too!

(also theres a lot, this is long *cough* my bad)

- After the incident in The Lost Hero, after Midas dies, Lityerses is homeless. His father’s mansion is destroyed and it’s not like he has anyone to turn to.

- They mention in The Lost Hero that the Hunters of Artemis came across Midas and Lityerses earlier. When they did, Lityerses heard in passing about Camp Half-Blood. It’s the only place meant for demigods that he has even the slightest knowledge on, so he sets his sights on making it there.

- It takes eight grim months to reach New York. It’s half a miracle, slowly taking busses, hitchhiking, and sometimes just walking to the next city. Monsters attack him the entire way and he adds plenty of new scars to his collection.

- There’s no reliable way for him to get money. He gets much, much better at using his powers as a son of Demeter. He uses it to grow fruits, vegetables, and any sort of edible plant so he can at least have food of some kind.

- He goes to New York City because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t even know if the Hunters were talking about the city or the state but he figures he has to start somewhere. Unfortunately, the Triumvirate notices his presence before anyone from Camp Half-Blood does.

- He follows some demigods to Nero, who sent them to collect him. He offers a position working for the Triumvirate in exchange for food, lodging, and other basic support. Lityerses is tired and he wants to sleep in a bed and have proper meals he doesn’t have to worry about acquiring.

- He accepts, not caring if what the Triumvirate is doing is shitty or not. Nero sends him to Indianapolis to work for Commodus.

- Apollo’s decision to give him another chance was very affecting. Especially coming from ancient times when the stories of the gods on earth were far more real and immediate, he knows very well how the gods could treat mortals as simply disposable.

- He had never questioned his belief that any mortal who got wrapped up in business with a god suffered a horrible fate because of it, whether the god intended it or not.

- But then Apollo saved his life and defended him at the Waystation and told him he trusted him and Lityerses’s mind keeps drifting back to him over and over and over.

- His mind wants to reconcile what Apollo did for him with what he knows about the gods. He can’t, and that makes him feel a great many things that he can’t pin down. Apollo decided to care about him when he had no reason to, and he doesn’t know what that means for him.

- He feels a twinge of gratitude whenever he steps into the sunlight and pulse of anxiety whenever he wonders if he’s okay on his quest.

- He thinks about Meg, his little sister, and hopes they’re keeping each other safe.

- Lityerses can occasionally seem really dull, indifferent, or unresponsive because he gives super minimal reactions to things sometimes, but that’s really not the case.

- Being in the modern world for him is sort of like a slight, but near constant sensory overload. Sometimes, his brain is too busy processing other stuff to fully load up an emotional response. He’ll react to something in his mind but he won’t express it outwardly at all.

- Leo, running up: Wanna help me strap a firework to a crossbow bolt and try to shoot it into the office building across the street to see if it’ll blow up in there?!!!!! Lityerses, with a completely flat voice and blank expression: I think that’s a very bad idea.

- It’s definitely not all the time, but it does happen.

- (Me? Projecting sensory issues onto every character I like? It’s more likely than you think.)

- He has a very “go with the flow” attitude, to the point of being a character flaw sometimes. It can make him easy to manipulate.

- (Commodus: hey lityerses go put this barbed wire and war helmets and metal teeth on these ostriches Liyerses, in his head: uhuh uhuh uhuh uhuh yeah cool got it i hope i still have some fingers left tomorrow)

- He’s working on it though. He’s working on it.

- One side effect of this is that whenever Leo makes some pop culture or meme reference, Lityerses will just nod and agree. It takes Leo forever to realise that he was just lying going along with it.

- *mid conversation* Lityerses: I’d go get some food, but I don’t have any money Leo: dude, you’re literally just the 69 cents vine, not enough for chicken nuggets Lityerses: oh, for sure Calypso, overhearing: wait, you understood that?? Lityerses: no, I’ve never understood a single word that’s left leo’s mouth Leo: what?!!!! but you said you understood my reference to that dril tweet the other day, right?! Lityerses: yeah, of course Calypso: what’s a dril tweet?? Lityerses: I don’t know. Leo: YOU TRAITOR

- Another side effect: he’s a complete pushover for Georgie.

- At one point, when some of the Waystation crew are walking out in the city, she complains that she’s tired and wants to be carried. When her moms gently refuse, she immediately goes over to Lityerses and holds her arms out and says that she’s tired. He doesn’t even stop walking, he just swoops her up and puts her on his shoulder right away.

- Hemithia and Jo glare at him but he just avoids eye contact. “She’s already up there, too much effort to put her down now.”

- He was in the Fields of Punishment in the Underworld and wow was it incredibly traumatizing.

- His memories of death are sickeningly agonizing, but they also usually feel distant and unreal. Sometimes, though, they’ll worm their way into his dreams with horrific clarity. He’ll wake up in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, with full body tremors he can’t control.

- One morning after waking up like that, while sitting on the floor regaining his composure, Hemithea comes in to see why he wasn’t up yet. He pulls himself together in due time. He doesn’t answer any of her questions.

- He never talks about it, but he’s truly terrified of dying. He never was before, but now that he knows what’s waiting for him...

- It doesn’t help that he knows that, no matter how careful he is or how well he defends himself, he could die at any moment if Thanatos decides to bring him back to the Underworld.

- It weighs on the back of his mind that, at least on a technical level, he has no right to be alive. Sometimes he can’t help but think that the things he does now don’t matter in the end, because there’s no reason he would get a second judgement when he does eventually return to the Underworld.

- He does his best to shut that down and remind himself that trying to do the right thing helps the people around him, no matter what happens after his death, but the thought exists and it is painful.

- He really never voices these fears because he feels like all he can really do is try not to think about it, and when he does, he tries to forget as soon as he can. It’s a burden he shoulders as quietly as he can.

- He isn’t used to owning a lot of material possessions, both from how he lived in ancient times and then from being homeless for a while. He’s only ever described wearing that Cornhuskers shirt because it’s the only one he owned for a while.

- Not long after joining the Waystation, the first time he was going out somewhere them, Jo snapped that it just made him look stupid, trying to look tough by going without a coat when it was so cold outside. Earnestly confused and defensive, he tells her that he just doesn’t own one.

- After that, she insists on filling his wardrobe until he has enough clothes.

- (Speaking of the Cornhuskers shirt, he just picked it out on a whim, sort of thinking of Demeter (They grow corn here like we used to grow wheat, right?) and sort of just thinking it looked cool. Olujime once tried to talk to him about how some college teams were doing and Lityerses just goes “What’s football?”)

- He doesn’t really get modern fashion trends. Leo offers to catch him up, but he declines very quickly.

- In ancient times, dyes and patterns available for clothes were much more limited and much more expensive. He’s fascinated by all the colors and prints people can wear just all the time now. Lityerses wears a lot of bright colors because he thinks they’re cool and fun. He likes red, blue, and purple the most but he’ll wear a lot of stuff.

- Along with not really following any trends, he also hasn’t picked up on a lot of unspoken gender connotations that come with modern clothing.

- When the Waystation are first trying to get him some clothes, he picks out a pink jacket and Leo snorts at him like “You’re going for pink?” Lityerses just stares at him like “Yeah. It’s just pink.” Leo sort of realizes and goes, “Oh, it’s just, you know...” to Calypso. But Calypso is also just staring blankly and says, “No I don’t. I don’t get it. Is there something about pink?” And Leo notices Hemithea glaring daggers at him and he laughs nervously and goes, “Nevermind, it was a stupid joke anyway.”

- Hemithia: Leave the ancient demigod and ex-titan blissfully unaware of our complex, modern gender stereotypes. Leo, sweating: gotcha.

- He pretty much just wears what he finds comfortable. Generally it’s just t-shirts with jeans or basketball shorts.

- Lityerses is a super clingy sleeper and will reflexively grab on to anything within arms reach while he’s asleep. (He’s a big spoon by nature.)

- Leo discovers this and now, whenever Lityerses falls asleep on one of the couches, he’ll entertain himself by slowly pushing a pillow up to him until he inevitably grabs it and pulls it against his chest.

- No one gets those pillows back until Lityerses wakes up.

- He’s very buff. His muscles aren’t super defined, nothing at all like a bodybuilder, no six pack abs or anything. But he’s built. Thick arms.

- He’s very limber and flexible too. He has great balance, which lets him move as fast as he does in combat. He’s quite physically fit in general.

- He’ll never admit it, but he ended up getting attached to the highlights in his hair he got when Apollo revealed his godly form. He thought they were fun and different and he sort of missed it when his hair grew out.

#trials of apollo #toa #lityerses #pjo #litpollo #well none of its super litpollo but #you know you know #long post #also sorry for giving you super cute georgie and lityerses headcanons #and then punching you in the gut with the trauma of death and revival with no warning #not that sorry tho #god its been a long time since ive done headcanons like this #this better go in the tags #edit- it did for a min then disappeared :^)

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buttercupbuck · 3 years

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*1*god the anons you get are so wack and out of touch with reality it would almost be hilarious if it wasn't so horrifying that people really think like that 😬 imagine someone arguing that people who experience earthquakes AND hurricanes are the only ones who really suffer and people who only get the earthquakes 'don't have it hard' and actually earthquakes aren't a thing that actually impacts people's lives so we should stop advocating for people harmed by earthquakes? because that's literally

*2*what their arguments sound like 🙄 guess what, different bad things can sadly coexist and there’s more than one brand of hatred that impacts people’s lives negatively and neither negates the other or makes the other less impactful, instead it just means that WOC get the double impact of racism AND misogyny, which YES is absolutely a horrifying thing but doesn’t change the fact that misogyny impacts all women? jfc just the lengths people go to to justify their own misogyny, truly astounding

*3*if only they could harness all that energy to actually put something good into the world instead!!! anyways, every time I see you having to deal with this it just makes me want to give you the biggest fucking hug, because I’ve never gotten anons like that, but I imagine it really fucking sucks 😬 So here I am, sending you some anon love <3 and I will send more every time they show up again because your ask-box absolutely deserves more love than stupidity and hatred, because you are amazing <3

no like it’s truly such a wild take and it’s not hard to figure out why they’ve chosen jlh of all people to pit against aisha and attempt to spread the narrative that caring about maddie/jlh is just about the most racist thing you can do and is completely antithetical to caring about woc. like i legit defended jlh once when people were encouraging others to bash her and the other white women in the cast based on their appearances and now this anon thinks i’m incapable of giving a shit about what happened to aisha 😭 truly weird behavior…and it’s pretty funny that there’s none of that energy towards the white men in the cast. not that it would be productive necessarily, but it’s just !! SO interesting that this is the shape their antiracism “activism” has taken. very strange to me, but keep fighting the good fight i guess !

and claiming that white women walk and have walked through society unscathed……please pick up a history book and maybe look around. they’re clearly chronically online and out of touch, but it feels strange to dismiss the trauma literally all women face by simply existing in a patriarchal society….and that’s not even going into other intersections like ableism and homophobia that anon is clearly content to ignore because its not gonna help them win their argument. it doesn’t take away from the unique struggles of woc to acknowledge that white women aren’t exempt from misogyny. there is some room for nuance here but anon is clearly too busy being a pick me white woman on every level to be bothered

and they really think they’re doing something by sending an anonymous message to a 911 blog on tumblr dot com and using what was a traumatic incident for a black woman to try to bash jlh and try to make a “gotcha” moment for me. it’s just…the lengths these people go to in order to justify their rampant misogyny and distance themselves from their whiteness is truly insane (and yeah i just knooooow this bitch is white bc who tf else is gonna continue to whitesplain racism to me unprompted and after i’ve made it clear that i’m actually very familiar with it)

but thank youuu. it gets super frustrating and tbh i feel like it’s only a matter of time before whoever tf this is slides into other inboxes and cries about how i don’t give a fuck about aisha because i clearly only care about white women, and other blogs will just gobble it up and spread that shit around because 💁🏻‍♀️ that’s just how it’s gone down in the past. im hoping im wrong but im just very tired lol

#ask #anon #fandom discourse

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bloggerthannothing · 3 years

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Jesus Christ Superstar is Very Good

[I'm familiar with the 1973 film version, so that's what I'm talking about here. This may or may not apply to other renditions.]

Jesus Christ Superstar is an...interesting rock opera interpretation of the gospel narrative.

If I had to describe it with one word, it would be "juxtaposition". Ancient Roman guards wielding AK-47s coexist with afro-hippies living in adobe huts. King Herod sings a whimsical falsetto tune just minutes before the thirty-nine lashings of Christ are counted off in an agonized voice by a guilt-ridden Pontius Pilate. 'Tonal whiplash' is perhaps putting it a bit lightly.

But somehow, it works. The anachronisms give it a sort of magical realism which suits its timeless theme. That theme is "idealism versus pragmatism", or perhaps "kindness versus effectiveness."

The opera opens with a song by Judas, of all people. Judas is depicted here not as a greedy turncoat, but as someone who cares deeply about Jesus, Jesus' ideals, and the welfare of others.

Listen, Jesus, I don't like what I see

All I ask is that you listen to me

And remember

I've been your right hand man all along

…

And believe me

My admiration for you hasn't died

But every word you say today

Gets twisted 'round some other way

And they'll hurt you if they think you've lied

…

I am frightened by the crowd

For we are getting much too loud

And they'll crush us if we go too far

…

Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give

Please remember that I want us to live

He points out that money spent on expensive perfumes for Jesus could have been used to feed the poor (a topic close to my own heart). We have every reason to believe what he says - that he only wants what is best for Jesus and the occupied Jews.

But his desire for the movement to succeed pragmatically, for Jesus and the apostles (and himself) to stay 'safe' leads him to be cold, uncaring, and of course, a murderer.

While he obviously cares for Jesus, it's undeniable that there's resentment and even anger in his dialogue (performed amazingly well by Carl Anderson here. Seriously, listen to it, it's incredible).

Nazareth, your famous son

Should have stayed a great unknown

Like his father carving wood

He'd have made good

Tables, chairs, and oaken chests

Would have suited Jesus best

He'd have caused nobody harm, no one alarm

He is overly concerned with how Jesus appears to others, urging Jesus to associate less with prostitutes for the sake of his public image. He prioritizes looking good over actually being good.

At best, he could be said to "indulge" Jesus' claims about being the son of God, and at worst he's outright skeptical of them.

I remember when this whole thing began

No talk of God then, we called you a man

Judas is characterized so heavily because the film revolves around the ideological conflict between him and Jesus. While Judas is pragmatic to the point of being cold and cruel, Jesus is idealistic and trusting to a fault. He refuses to explain himself to others or take any measures to ensure others understand what he means.

So why would the viewer like or sympathize with Jesus? Because he is shown, not as a divine chessmaster who knows everything, but as an honest and conflicted servant to a higher being he doesn't understand. When a crowd asks him to die for them, we see the fear in his eyes.

At the garden of Gethsemane, he has a gut-wrenching solo performance where he desperately begs God to let him live, or at least explain why he has to die (another amazing performance, this time by Ted Neeley).

Why, why should I die?

Why should I die?

Can you show me now that I would not be killed in vain?

Show me just a little of your omnipresent brain

Show me there's a reason for your wanting me to die

You're far too keen on 'where' and 'how' but not so hot on 'why'

And that is why Jesus' struggle here is emotional and moving, maybe even more than the canonical Christian Jesus!

The canonical Christian Jesus knew that he was the Son of God, knew that he had to die to redeem mankind's sins, and knew that he would live forever in Heaven after his Passion [1]. He experiences fear and pain, of course, but the guaranteed eternal paradise and his direct line to God the Father give him a kind of solace that no other mortal has ever had access to.

Superstar Jesus Christ? He's plagued by uncertainty, unsure of what his greater role is in God's plan. He is privy to no private information and has no guarantees whatsoever. For all he knows, he'll suffer and die for nothing, leaving his people to be dispersed and oppressed long after he's gone.

Just like with Judas, we have a character with a truly human blend of mixed emotions. Devotion and faith to God, fear of pain and suffering and failure, and a desperate desire to know why God won't tell him any more, and perhaps even some spite toward that same God he trusts so much:

Alright, I'll die!

Just watch me die!

See how, see how I die!

Oh, just watch me die

…

Why, then, am I scared to finish

What I started?

What you started!

I didn't start it!

His doubt has him end his prayer in Gethsemane with the tragicomic line:

Bleed me, beat me, kill me, take me now

Before I change my mind!

II.

I know that "idealism versus pragmatism" isn't the deepest or most complex theme in the world, but it's portrayed beautifully here. Two people who ultimately want the same thing, who should be the closest companions, are forced against each other by different beliefs about how to achieve their goals under an oppressive regime that hates both of them.

It's a story that avoids easy black and white morality, despite the fact that one of the characters is literally Jesus! The fairness with which it portrays the different "ideologies" makes it popular even among atheists (according to my surveys of Youtube comment sections).

This entire philosophical conflict comes to a head in Superstar, sung by the ghost of Judas and an angelic choir to Jesus right just he is crucified.

Why'd you choose such a backward time and such a strange land?

If you'd come today, you would have reached a whole nation

Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication

...

Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ

Who are you? What have you sacrificed?

Jesus Christ, Superstar

Do you think you're what they say you are?

…

Tell me what you think about your friends at the top

Now who'd you think, besides yourself, was the pick of the crop?

Buddha, was he where it's at? Is he where you are?

Could Mohamed move a mountain, or was that just PR?

The premise of this song is unique and emotional. Someone who believes in Jesus, and trusts him, wondering how this could possibly be part of a reasonable plan? Wondering why God would send his son to die, and then spend 2000 years doing not much at all? Wondering why there are other religions, with messiah figures who seem just as confident and spiritual and humble as Jesus, while being mutually contradictory with what Jesus preached?

This entire perspective, well...I empathize with it!

I used to be Christian, and these are the exact kind of questions I struggled with. Through Judas' character, this opera is willing to bring up the hard questions you have to answer when you're a modern, critical, utilitarian-minded Christian.

But it's not a shallow gotcha, trying to expose how dumb Christianity and Jesus are. Both Judas and Jesus are flawed, emotional, deeply sympathetic characters who have remarkably similar tragic fates. One takes his own life from guilt, and one lets his own life be taken from him through inaction and silence.

And remember: this is the same musical with the hippies and the AK-47 Roman guards and the falsetto King Herod song! The light-hearted aesthetics lure you into a genuinely moving story about the hard choices you face when trying to be a force for good in a complicated, deeply imperfect world.

And did I mention that it has some banger songs? Hosanna, Damned for All Time, and the Last Supper are all great songs in their own right.

What I'm trying to say is - Jesus Christ Superstar is very good.

[1] Okay, that's Catholicism, probably some other branches of Christianity believe slightly different things. But the basic point still stands.

#media #very good #jesus christ superstar #effortpost

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satorisa · 4 years

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Lift the Veil - Chapter 14: Thnks fr th Mmrs

Rating: T

Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?

Alternate links for reading available in my description! (Except for on ff.net rn since I’m having technical difficulties uploading it onto there.)

What better way to ring in the new year than with yet another Lift the Veil chapter! Here’s to (almost) new beginnings for our two main characters.

We are one, I repeat, one chapter away from the next arc of this story! So stay tuned for the tonal shift this story will take once we get there!

Happy readings, ya’ll!

Chapter 14 – Thnks fr th Mmrs

And I want these words to make things right, but it’s the wrongs that make the words come to life.

Alone. In my apartment. With way too much food for me to finish without puking it all up, too much alcohol for me to be around in such an emotionally precarious state, and an overwhelming understanding that I shouldn’t be in this situation any longer than I need to be.

I called Ritsuko first, half hoping she would pick up and half hoping she wouldn’t. She answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Risa! I thought you were busy with Riku and Daisuke’s return.”

“I was.”

“Your ‘was’ is worrying me.”

I take a deep breath. “Can you come by? Please.”

“Yeah! Yeah—let me just finish up something first, and I’ll head over as soon as I can. Can you hang in there until then?”

“I’ll try.”

“Okay, Risa, now you’re really worrying me.” I heard movement from her line. “Do you need me to bring you anything?”

“Just empty Tupperware. Please take home some of the food I have here.”

“Gotcha. Just wait for me, alright?”

“Alrighty. Thank you.”

“Always, hun.”

We hung up, and I stared at my phone. Ritsuko would be enough, right? I scrolled through my contacts until I saw Takeshi’s name. Did I need him over? Could he even be over? And what about Akane? Would she—

ACHOO.

The sneeze cut my deliberations short as I accidentally pressed the button to call him. And, after my round of sneezes ended, I heard a faint voice blessing me from my phone. I brought it to my ear, realizing it’d be too late to hang up now.

“Hey, Boss, are you feeling alright?” he asked with genuine concern.

The words rolled around in my head, like bingo balls bouncing around in their cage. I could say yes, effectively putting an end to this conversation and just dump everything onto Ritsuko. Takeshi would tease me for days about this call, but—

“No. I’m not.”

There was silence until I heard a muffled voice that sounded too high to belong to Takeshi. Akane?

“Akane’s asking if you need anything.”

“Just bring some empty containers. I have too much food here. ”

“Awesome!” I hear noise muffling the line. “I’ll be on my way soon.”

“You don’t—”

“Nope. Nu-uh. I don’t want to hear it, Risa. I’m going to be over soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it, okay?”

“…okay.”

“Okay? Good. I’ll see you in a bit.”

He hung up, and I looked at my phone resting in my lap. Ritsuko and Takeshi were heading to my apartment to comfort me after Riku blew up because she found out about Satoshi. In other words, the world was going to explode in my face, and there was nothing I could do about it.

If I could help it, I wouldn’t tell them, but the secret was out. Knowing Riku, she’d intentionally blab about it until she finally came to terms with it. Which probably won’t be until after she’s razed Azumano to cinders. Besides, I’d rather they hear this from me than her. Better from the primary source, after all.

Dammit, Kazama. I really didn’t want to cross this bridge this soon. (Hopefully, this won’t bring that ugly mug of his back to Azumano again, either.)

Some time had passed as I sat there, unmoving, unable to process anything, slowly decaying with each breath I took until I heard them. They didn’t need to ring my doorbell. Ritsuko and Takeshi’s angry voices carried through the walls of my living room.

I sighed before getting up to open the door. And, sure enough, I peeked out into the hallway to see them a couple of units down. I glared.

“You guys better get in here before I throw out all my food.”

“This is your fault, Fukuda!” Takeshi screamed.

“My fault? Let me remind you that—”

I closed my door, mentally readying myself for any potential noise complaints as I returned to my spot on the sofa. When I heard them finally knock on my door, preluded by sweet silence, I let them in.

“Friendly reminder that I do have neighbors so please, for the love of God, keep it down. Thank you!”

“Yes ma’am!”

Ritsuko, still having not seen my place, gave herself a tour while Takeshi stood by the food, silently deliberating on what he’d take back with him.

“Sorry I couldn’t help you move in!” Ritsuko called from my bedroom.

“No worries! How was your business trip to Sapporo?”

“Honestly? I’d rather have suffered at the hands of moving stress than what I dealt with there.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Ritsuko eventually finished and closed my bedroom door behind her. She sat on the sofa, and Takeshi joined her on the opposite end. They looked up at me, expecting and scrutinizing, and I sat down in the space between them to keep them from fighting.

I felt my arms start to shake once I realized that there was no turning back once from this.

“So, what’s up?” Ritsuko asked.

“Just…give me a bit.”

She nodded as I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself down. They didn’t really help though; they were only delaying the inevitable.

I took one last deep breath.

“…I was Hiwatari’s friend with benefits in high school. And he ghosted me a month before we graduated.”

They balked. Ritsuko quickly regained her composure, but Takeshi just looked like the world had suddenly turned upside down.

“I know we all had our suspicions, but…” Ritsuko couldn’t continue.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” Takeshi paused. “This is what you were keeping from us? I knew it was bad because Satoshi was somehow always very specific yet very vague but—oh my god.”

“Who else knows?” Ritsuko asked.

“Some of the adults managed to piece it together, and I thought that Hiwatari-san kept it to himself like me…until he told me that Daisuke found out.”

Ritsuko looked at me in horror. “Oh no.”

“So guess who told Riku while being drunk out of their mind on their trip to Zurich?”

“No.”

“Yup.”

Takeshi groaned. “Daisuke, buddy, I love you, but how the hell could you pull a Satoshi with the last person on Earth you should’ve blabbed it to?”

“’Pull a Satoshi?’ What the hell do you mean by that?”

“Fukuda, I don’t know if you’ve had the—ah—displeasure of drinking with Satoshi, so let’s just say that he has no filter when he’s gone. One time, he said…er…”

“’Er?’” Ritsuko repeated.

Takeshi looked at me. “I don’t know if I can share this.”

“After Risa’s statement? You could literally tell me the world is ending tomorrow, and it would still pale in comparison.”

Takeshi bit his lip. “Well, since it involved Risa, I suppose I can. Just brace yourself. Please.” He then directed his attention towards Ritsuko. “You didn’t hear this from me, Fukuda.”

“Just. Spit. It. Out.”

“Risa, um, I don’t know if he told you this already, but he was practically in love with you in high school.”

Ritsuko gasped. “What?”

“Oh, I know. He told me in Vienna.”

“What?”

Ritsuko looked so distraught compared to Takeshi, but he was probably only taking this marginally better because he knew more about the situation. And since I already had enough time for me to decently process everything, I was faring the best out of the three of us. How funny that the ones I called to keep me company while I was distressed are the ones left even more distressed by the situation.

“Okay, okay,” Ritsuko said. “I understand why you didn’t tell us about it, but I don’t understand how or why this happened.”

“Fukuda, get with the program here!” I felt her glare, directed at Takeshi, pierce through me. “There was nothing to be done here.”

“Bull. Shit.” I winced. “They both loved each other; therefore, they cared about each other. If they really cared enough, then they probably wouldn’t have ended up in this mess in the first place.”

“That was their problem: caring about each other.”

Being stuck in the middle of this felt like the personification of what was once my mental state. Their increasing volume, directed at my eardrums, really wasn’t making this any more pleasant than when it was contained in my mind.

“They would’ve found some way to talk it out then. What, did they not trust each other or something?”

“Bingo.”

Ritsuko stopped arguing, and an expression of bemusement erased the frustration from earlier.

“Risa, explain.”

“I…don’t think it’s my right to explain. Well, not for him anyway. Maybe ask Takeshi later if you’re so curious. Or ask Hiwatari out for coffee sometime and get it from the man himself.” I forced a laugh. “Trusting people is hard when you’ve gone through stuff, you know?”

Understanding what I was implying, Ritsuko nodded. I saw tears bead at the corner of her eyes, and she excused herself to my bathroom, leaving me and Takeshi left on the sofa.

“How’re you holding up?” I asked him.

“I honestly don’t know how I’m still keeping it together right now,” Takeshi hollowly laughed. “I know more about it than most people, but I’m still in shock about it. I get why it happened, but like, Satoshi’s the most logical person I know, so it’s just difficult for me to wrap my head around how he could let this train wreck occur.” He sighed. “God, considering how awful I’m feeling now, I can’t even begin to fathom how you two must’ve felt about the whole thing.”

“You can empathize?” I joked, if only to relieve the tension in the room.

“Boss, why do you gotta be like this now? I’m trying not to cry here!”

“Don’t you dare shed any of your tears in front of me.”

He retreated into my bedroom. Moments later, Ritsuko sat down next to me with puffy eyes and a red nose. She offered me a weak smile.

“If anyone should be crying, it should be me,” I said.

“Oh, can it. You want to cry, but you can’t, so you’re making all of us get dehydrated for you.”

“Crap! You’ve foiled my evil plan!”

Ritsuko laughed, and I smiled. Honestly, I was too numb to feel much of anything. Just having Riku find out the last thing I ever wanted to know about and barreling into my apartment with murderous intent was traumatic enough to shock the emotions out of me.

“Honestly though, I was so scared to tell anyone, especially you guys. What if you said that I couldn’t feel the way that I felt because I needed to be mindful of what Hiwatari-san when through? Or took sides, whether mine or his? I couldn’t deal with that.”

“Like Riku?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I get where she’s coming from. Even though I’m understanding of the situation, that doesn’t mean I’m not angry. There’s a lot going on here, and a lot I don’t understand, but I can see why you didn’t tell anyone back then, right? They’d tell you to cut him off, unaware of the baggage you two carry, and it would’ve just made you feel even worse about the situation, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, Saehara and I are adults who aren’t your family. And we’re also his friend. What you’ve said here won’t change anything regarding our relationship with him. Likewise, what he says about you when I ask him about it won’t change the fact that you’re an amazing person that I’m proud to call one of my best friends.”

“Ritsuko!” I pulled her into a hug that she returned.

“After everything that happened, this is what makes you tear up? God, you’re hopeless!”

I laughed, wiping my tears away as I let her go. Takeshi returned, looking like he had taken a trip through the seven layers of hell, but he grinned before sitting back down on the sofa.

We spent the evening digging into some of the food while watching a movie since I had done more than enough talking. And once they left, bags filled with Tupperware and wine, I retreated to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed.

I turned to the music box sitting on the nightstand, winding it up before floating away to dreamland.

…

I woke up the next morning, before my alarm clock would shock me awake or the sun would burn the inside of my eyelids, to my phone ringing. Most people wouldn’t think to bother anyone at this time but, cracking an eye open to look at the caller ID, he wasn’t most people.

“What?” I croaked, irritated that he needed me for whatever reason that warranted a call at this time of day.

“Good morning to you, too.” I could hear the smile in his voice. Damn bastard was enjoying this. “How are you faring from last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“Leaving you alone with all those bottles of wine after what happened yesterday? It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together; you’re probably hungover.”

“I am a perfectly functional human being who has other coping mechanisms besides drowning myself in alcohol.”

“Past experiences say otherwise.”

“I didn’t drink at all last night; I have Takeshi, and Ritsuko as my witnesses.”

Hiwatari fell silent on the other end of the line while I stretched awake, putting my phone on speaker as I got up. While I was making my bed, Hiwatari spoke up.

“So they know now.”

“I’d rather they didn’t hear from Riku, so I told them first. Sorry to tell them so soon.”

“It’s fine.” He paused. “Should I be expecting attempts on my life now?”

“Nope. They took it well, surprisingly. They might give you a hard time because of it, but no one wants you dead. I think.”

After smoothing out my sheets, I admired my handiwork before grabbing my phone and heading to the kitchen for some breakfast. “Anyways, why’d you call?”

“Partly to check up on you in case you were hungover, but I was wondering if you’d be okay with me walking you to the news station today.”

“…really? You called me this early in the morning for that?”

“I’d rather not be greeted by your choice designer handbag of the day in my face.”

“Who said I’m still not going to do that?”

“Damn. I thought this would lessen my chances.” I could hear the lilt in his voice, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay though.”

“I’m about as okay as I’m going to be considering. Thank you for your concern, though.”

“It’s no problem. And could you also open your door, please? This bag is quite heavy, and it might become a problem for me if I keep standing here holding it.”

My usual alarm rang and, startled, I frenzied over to my front door. I swung it open to see Hiwatari standing there, convenience store bag in hand, with unveiled derision on his face.

“…actually, seeing you fresh from bed might be a greeting worse than a purse smashing my face. Tokyo has not been kind to your skin.”

“Get inside before I smash your face with that bag in your hands.”

…

“So, how’s the engaged couple?” Takeshi asked before unceremoniously slurping his noodles and splashing some of his broth onto shirt as if he didn’t just ask a loaded question. He couldn’t be this obtuse considering what just happened.

“Why don’t you ask Daisuke yourself?” Hiwatari asked.

“After what happened when they got back? I’d rather not deal with Beauty and the Beast.”

“And you thought we would have the answer to your question?”

“Maybe not the Boss, but I’m sure you’ve got something, Chief. Gimme the deets.”

“Riku’s out for my head; Daisuke’s trying to protect it: the usual. I have nothing else to report.”

Takeshi groaned. “Useless! It’s like you want me to die in the lion’s den.”

“I’m sure an unsuspecting fly like you will survive just fine.”

And with that, Hiwatari started eating his noodles, effectively direction his attention away from Takeshi and cleanly cutting that conversation short. Thus, I was the next victim of his poor attempt at small talk. “So, Boss, how’s the ramen?”

“Beautiful,” I answered, eyes trained on the wisps of steam coming from my untouched ramen. I noted the sheen of the broth on the noodles peeking out, following the fat bubbles gently floating amongst the green onions.

“Er, that’s not—”

My phone rang, and I looked at my phone to see a text from Riku asking to meet up for dinner later. Considering what had just happened, I didn’t think it would go well, but this was my sister. As hesitant and terrified I was, I wanted to put this behind us as quickly as possible.

“Whozzat?” Takeshi asked when I put my phone down after sending out my reply. He slurped down yet another ungodly amount of noodles, and I tried to conceal my disgust.

Akane scored in the relationship department. Truly.

“Riku. She asked to meet up with her later, so that’s what I’ll be doing instead of enjoying the comforts of my bed.”

Takeshi whistled, shaking his head, before returning to his bowl. “Don’t die, Boss.”

“I’ll try not to; no guarantees.”

I then decided to dig into my bowl, truly savoring my first bite. May this feeling prevail during dinner.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Hiwatari asked, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah. What could possibly go wrong?”

Takeshi and Hiwatari looked up from their bowls with their eyebrows raised. Hiwatari’s skeptical expression, paired with Takeshi’s eyes that begged me to rethink my words, helped me realize that I was only fooling myself. My sister was a human, but she was a Harada. And, considering that we have practically the same blood, I knew the insanity that could arise from it.

No doubt, were this situation reversed, I wouldn’t have stopped until I had the head of whomever hurt my sister roasted on a spit.

“Okay. Fine. Everything can and probably will go wrong.”

“It was nice knowing ya, Boss.”

“Let’s relish in our last meal together before your premature death.”

“Oh, go f—”

“Irasshai!”

…

“God speed!” Takeshi saluted. I returned the gesture.

“We’re here for you if you need us later,” Hiwatari assured.

“Hopefully, I’ll be fine. And I’ll just bother Ritsuko if I need someone. You guys have done more than enough by walking me here.”

“What’re friends for? We gotta see you before you march to your death!” Takeshi chirped.

“Really?”

“Boss, your sister is terrifying.”

“Don’t mind him,” Hiwatari said. “Good luck.”

I nodded, waving goodbye to them as they walked away. And once they started talking to each other a considerable distance away, I took a deep breath before walking in. This was Riku’s favorite place to grab sushi, and I saw her standing by the hostess’ stand, a couple of minutes earlier than what we had planned, as she nervously toyed with a stray thread on her blouse. She noticed me and smiled before turning to the hostess, who greeted us with a blinding smile, as she led us to a booth with two menus in her hand.

Why the booth of all places? The bar was ideal: I wouldn’t have to face Riku, I could occupy myself by staring at the chef, focus on anything and everything but—

“Can I have a beer and a highball?” Riku ordered once our waiter came by. He then turned to me, expecting, just like the sister that sat across from me.

“Just some green tea, please.”

The water nodded, heading off to grab our drink and attend to the other patrons, leaving me to watch Riku flip through the menu. (She didn’t need to. Her staple was the combo of maki rolls.)

“Do you know what you want to eat?” she calmly asked me as if she wasn’t radiating anger and didn’t just order alcohol.

I was not making it out alive.

“Um, I’ll just have some ebi and tamago nigari.”

“You usually order something extravagant. Don’t be shy; it’s my treat.”

It’s precisely because this is your treat which is why I’m being shy. As susceptible as I am to free food, this was a gift horse I needed to burn. “It’s okay. I had ramen, and I’m still kind of full.”

“Huh,” she hollowly said. “Didn’t think your appetite could ever be quenched.”

And the crocodile snaps!

Before she prematurely exploded, the waiter returned to our table with our drinks. Riku ordered for us before the waiter headed off. I moved my drink closer to me, unable to enjoy the warmth in my hands as she downed her beer. I expected her to polish off that highball, but she called a waiter passing by, asking him to for a gin and tonic. Once he left, she grabbed her other drink that she finished in seconds before slamming the glass on the table and staring straight into my eyes.

In any other situation, this would’ve been a great time to ask what college shenanigans Riku got herself into considering what she did took skill, and we could laugh about all the ill-timed hangovers and nostalgia over a nice sushi dinner. This was me trying to imagine this as anything but what it actually was: terrifying.

“Honestly, Risa, what the hell were you thinking getting involved with Satoshi like that?” she asked, more disappointed than angry. “You should’ve known that was a bad idea.”

“Yes because I was able to rationalize while I was sick with the flu and the guy I thought would never love me kissed me.”

She groaned, reaching for her drinks. And when she found them both empty, she groaned again before slamming the empty glass on the table. Again. “If I wasn’t drinking right now, I wouldn’t be able to stomach your bullshit excuses.”

“Yeah, you’re right. All I’ve really got are bullshit excuses for what happened.” I paused our conversation when our water returned, drink in hand, as he placed it in front of Riku. I flinched as she reached out for it, scared she would down it again, but she merely took a sip. She looked at me when she finished, expecting me to elaborate. “I took the opportunity because I knew Hiwatari would—could—never accept my affections.”

“Do you know why he stopped talking to you and tried to erase you from his existence?”

“Did you know about it before Daisuke told you?”

“Not the specifics, but like everyone else, we knew something happened between you two back then. I thought the six years apart would’ve smoothed it out since you tend to over-exaggerate everything but—god. I didn’t think it was this bad.” She sighed before having another sip of her drink. “Are you guys stupid enough to think that getting closer would fix this?”

I shrugged. “Apparently.”

“You two are insane.”

“Just like what you’re being right now.”

She glared at me with a red face as the alcohol settled into her system. “I have every right to after hearing everything from Daisuke. Do you need me to—?”

“I know, Riku. Hiwatari-san told me himself.”

The rage in her expression fizzled out as she stared at me with wide eyes. Was this the ammunition she was waiting to use to get me to listen to her? Was she hoping that this would end it all?

“Y-you need to leave Azumano and get away from Satoshi,” she started. “This closeness can’t be good for you two. I-I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, and she furiously wiped them away. Were those her true feelings hiding behind that animosity of hers? Or was it the alcohol causing her emotions to swing?

“I’m calling Daisuke to bring you home now.”

“No! I’m—”

“I’m calling him.”

She didn’t protest. She just sat in her seat, silently sipping on her drink while I headed out to call Daisuke. I returned to see Riku’s head resting on the table.

Passed out or asleep?

Daisuke came by pretty quickly, and I spotted him, completely flustered, as he approached our table.

“Oh, god, Risa. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just make sure she gets home safe.”

He nodded, hoisting her up on his shoulder. I expected him to leave immediately, maybe whispering something under his breath, but he just stood by the table.

“About Riku finding out…sorry. I accidentally slipped up by saying something, and Riku kept pestering me about it and—”

“It’s fine. Just go.”

And with that, Daisuke left. The waiter then came, food in hand, wondering where my sister went. I told him not to worry about it, saying to just leave the food there and get me the check ASAP.

“Risa?”

I looked up to see my parents hovering at the edge of my table. They were excited to see me, but what were they doing here?

“Where’s your sister?” my mother asked as my dad slipped into the booth across from me.

“Home. She ended drinking a little too much, so I asked Daisuke to take her back home.”

My mom gasped before sitting down next to my dad. “Oh my, goodness. Is she alright?”

“I hope so. What brings you two here?”

“Actually, Riku was the one who asked us to come.”

“Why?”

My mom shrugged. “She said she’d explain it to us here. Do you know what she wanted to talk to us about?”

“No clue,” I feigned. The longer I kept my parents unaware of this, the better I’d feel. No way did I want to deal with the wrath of three Haradas at any given time. “You two help yourselves. My treat.”

“Thank you,” my father grumbled, cautiously eyeing the half empty drink Riku left, taking a sip of it, and slowly moving it towards him, before looking through the menu.

“Are you going to eat that?” My mom motioned to the maki set that Riku ordered. I shook my head, and she happily dug in.

I had a feeling the next time I met them, they would be hostile. So I enjoyed this brief moment, getting along with my parents for once and hoping it would never end.

…

Once I was at the news station the next morning, my phone started vibrating like crazy. My mom was sending frantic messages about Riku waking up with a headache, asking me if I was sure that she was okay. Riku certainly was far from okay, but I didn’t want to aggravate this already precarious situation so, like any responsible adult, I lied to my mom by telling her that Riku was having so much fun last night that she wasn’t pacing herself well before silencing my phone and stuffing it into the deep recesses of a pocket in my purse that I zipped up.

“Good morning, Harada-san,” the security guard greeted when I approached the elevators. “There’s someone looking for you.”

“Where are they?”

“Upstairs. I led them to your cubicle.”

“You just…let them in like that?”

“He showed me proper ID, but I can’t seem to recall his name. He just told me that he has official business with you.”

“…and you’re sure that it’s not Commissioner Hiwatari?”

“I’d recognize him anywhere, so it’s not him.”

“Okay. Thank you?”

He offered me a smile that I hesitantly returned before walking past him, mentally noting that we might need a personnel change for safety measures. Who could possibly need to have an official meeting with me and come by unannounced?

…oh shit.

Once the elevator landed on my floor, I rushed to my cubicle. There Kazama sat, leaning back in my desk chair with a mug of coffee in his hands, animatedly chatting with Takeshi who looked ready to keel over. Poor guy having to deal with him so early in the morning.

“And so—oh! Harada-san! The woman of the hour! You’ve kept me waiting!”

“And you’ve entertained Takeshi enough. Let him get back to work.”

As Takeshi passed by me, he patted my shoulder. I expected a look of gratitude of relief on his face, but he looked like he was on the verge of tears. “You’re a saint for saving me, Boss, but the Chief’s going to kill me for coming into the precinct so late.” He rushed out before I could even offer him words of consolation for the predicament this dickhead had put him in.

“It’s to be expected that a Hiwatari knows how to crack the ol’ whip every now and then!” Kazami chirped as I loudly dropped my stuff onto my desk. He was unfazed by the noise, but a couple of my neighbors peeked over the walls of my cubicle, wondering if they could get a glimpse at what had pissed me off first thing in the morning.

“So, what brings you here?” I ask, sitting down in a chair I reserved for guests because of Kazama’s snooty ass lavishly lounging in my comfortable one.

“That’s a rhetorical question, isn’t it?”

“Look, I know why you’re here, but couldn’t this have waited until I finished work for the day? Also, don’t you have super important cases to win back in Tokyo?”

“They’re not as important as getting some much needed R&R.” I scoff at his comment. “And am I not allowed to say hello to my favorite Harada?”

I wince at his words. “You’re not. I have work to do, and you’re bothering me right now, so you need to leave.”

“Not even a please? Goodness, whatever happened to treating your elders with manners?”

“Look,” I started in English, hoping my coworkers would have trouble understanding me, “my job already pisses me off enough, and I don’t need you to add onto that stress, okay? So if you could just lay off until this evening, that’d be great.”

Kazama whistled. “Amazing accent, Harada-san! I expected nothing less from a Todai graduate.”

I glared at him, and he stood up and gathered his things. “I’ll see you at Satoshi’s place for dinner, then?”

“If you’re cooking, I’ll pass.”

He chortled, knowing that I enjoyed his cooking far too much to miss out on it, and he left without another word. As I settled into my seat, I saw the peering eyes disappear in my peripheries. While I got myself ready for yet another day of work, I heard the murmurs of my coworkers as they concocted yet another rumor to spread about me.

Don’t these people have anything better to do than waste their time on the train wreck of my life?

…

As usual, Hiwatari met up with me outside the news station after the broadcast finished. We didn’t talk much on the way to his apartment, but we dropped by a bakery and grabbed a cake.

When we arrived, we were greeted by a lovely smell coming from the kitchen. Hiwatari greeted Kazama while I sat down at the table, admiring the cake through the flimsy plastic window on the box. All I had to do was survive an amazing dinner with not-so-amazing company, and then I could indulge in this beauty.

After talking to Kazama, Hiwatari headed into his room. He came out in yet another pair of ratty pajamas before slipping into the seat next to me.

“Have you talked to Daisuke yet?” I asked.

“No. It’s—I can’t bring myself to see him. I’m upset that he told Riku, but I’m mostly ashamed that it had come to this.” I nodded. “How was your talk with Riku last night?”

“She got super plastered, passed out at the table, and I had to call Daisuke to pick her up. She couldn’t last long enough to tell my parents about it.”

“Your parents?”

“Yeah. She was planning on telling them while half delirious under the influence of alcohol. Luckily, they didn’t find out, but I don’t know how long they’ll be kept in the dark about this.”

“Oh, juicy stuff!” Kazama interjected. He placed steaming hot plates of food in front of us, and it looked like he cooked extra for me to take home. “So, the older sister knows and is planning on making it worse by involving your parents?”

“Well, they have every right to know, but I’d rather they not.”

Kazama’s laugh trailed off as he went into the kitchen. He returned with two cans of beer, placing one in front of me, before plopping into one of the empty seats and opening his can.

“None for you, Big Boy. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.” He took a sip. “Ah, that’s the stuff!”

For the most part, dinner went smoothly Hiwatari and Kazama rambled on about politics while I savored my food. When we finished, Hiwatari vehemently insisted that he do the dishes, leaving me and Kazama in the living room, crowded around the TV softly playing a rerun of an old drama, while Kazama cut the cake.

“For you, madam,” he joked as he passed me a slice of cake and a fork.

“Thank you, but shut up.”

When Hiwatari finished, he sat on the floor by Kazama. He helped himself to a slice of cake with a blank expression.

“So, the heart of the matter, you two,” Kazama started. “Run your next steps by me.”

“Jump off the cliffs and fall to our untimely deaths,” I grumbled before taking a bite of my cake.

Ah, how blissful.

“Seconded,” Hiwatari said.

“Ah-ah. The goal is to live, children. So, seriously, what is your plan?”

“Hope my parents never find out.”

“And if they do?”

“Die.”

“Harada-san! I trusted you to be stronger than this! What did you expect to happen as a consequence of your actions?”

“This. Exactly this. It’s just as bad as I envisioned it to be.”

Kazama laughed, clearly amused at our suffering, but he eventually calmed down. I expected him to say something absurd or rude to follow my statement, but he didn’t.

“You can’t control others, Harada-san. All you can do now is hang in there and take the punches.” Kazama paused. “Does your family normally react this extremely to these kinds of situations?”

“Yeah. They’ve always been over-protective, but I think it got worse after Argentine kidnapped me.”

Kazama didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to Hiwatari and frowned. “Friendly reminder that this is your fault. I won’t protect you from whatever will come your way. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

“You need to accept that the family you found with the Haradas will change or disappear when they find out.”

Hiwatari’s lips thinned in a line. I didn’t know how dear Hiwatari held my family. Likewise, I didn’t know how fondly my parents thought of Hiwatari, either.

The thought of losing people never sat well for anyone, especially Hiwatari. I couldn’t imagine what he could be feeling right now.

“Well, since shit hasn’t completely hit the fan, you two should play it by ear.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, it’s time for me to visit the Niwas! Can’t wait to see how divisive everyone will be! Toodles!”

The front door slammed shut, leaving me and Hiwatari with a half-eaten cake and the TV blaring some annoying advertisement. I moved towards him, concerned at his slumped body.

“So, how’d the thing with my parents happen?” I asked. “I’m genuinely curious; after all, they’re not the Niwas.”

“Because of Riku.”

Hiwatari looked up and, after noticing the shock on my face, looked back down at the floor. “…you don’t know what happened?”

“This may or may not be news to you, but I also cut off contact with everyone in Azumano while I was in Tokyo.” I narrowed my eyes. “What happened to my sister?”

“After you left, she couldn’t leave her bed. She was nauseous, feverous, and could barely keep anything down.”

“What? Why?!”

“Apparently, whenever you two were separated for extended periods of time, Riku would always get sick.”

“Why is this my first time hearing about this? And from you of all people?”

“No one wanted you to worry. And you probably would’ve never found out if it weren’t for me. And this situation.”

“Okay, so what do you have to do with any of this?”

“When I heard about it from Daisuke, I decided to pay Riku and your family a visit. For whatever reason, they thought Riku’s condition was caused by some spiritual connection the two of you share because you’re twins.” Hiwatari frowned. “I don’t understand why you Haradas are so obsessed with mysticism.”

“You’re one to talk with that magical, artsy blood flowing in your veins.”

Hiwatari sighed before continuing. “It turns out that Riku was too anxious without you. Her brain was conditioned to think that the two of you being together meant that both of you were safe. So, whenever you were gone, she ended up worrying about both you and her.”

“What’d you do?”

“I told her you weren’t really gone. You were just living your life in Tokyo without much of a care in the world.”

“…I’m assuming that didn’t help.”

“Not at all.”

I laughed, and Hiwatari smiled before continuing. “Riku needed to learn how to live again for herself. So I made her exercise, go out with family and friends, and suffer through game night at the Niwas. I just needed to jumpstart her brain so that she wouldn’t crumble again when she returned to college.”

“Returned to college?”

“She had to withdraw from college during her first semester after failing her first round of midterms.”

Our eyes met for a couple of seconds, and the shock initially on his face gave way to an expression of hurt. “Harada-san…”

“Continue, Hiwatari-san.”

“Are you sure?”

“Continue.”

He hesitated, and I watched him shift his posture slightly to buy him some time. His hand slid closer to me, unable to move any further: all he could offer at this moment was half-assed consolation, but it was the only thing we could mentally accept right now.

I slid mine closer, thankful for the gesture but too afraid to fully commit, and Hiwatari continued. “Since she wasn’t getting better, I had to coerce your parents into taking her to therapy. She improved from there, and she was able to go back to college the following year.”

“How did you get closer to my parents then?”

“A little while after I started coming over to help Riku, your mother, in true Risa fashion, had sat me down once with coffee and asked me to talk about myself. Honestly, I mostly just sat there in silence while she bombarded me with questions.” I laughed. “But, while one of her daughters was AWOL, the other one practically unresponsive, she still somehow managed to genuinely care about how I was doing.” He paused. “From there on, your parents somehow found a way to make me feel at home. They let me breathe in a way that the Niwas didn’t. Even though I had an inkling they did it to cope with what was going on with the two of you, I felt like that was how it felt to have parents.”

“Huh.”

Hiwatari only smiled. “Well, anyways, my uncle’s right; I only have myself to blame for this mess.” He then glanced at his phone. “And as much as I appreciate this intimate session of catching up, it’s late and we both have work tomorrow. It’s time for me to walk you back.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“…I would insist but, after the conversation we just had, please accept me calling you a ride.”

“Thank you.”

Hiwatari packed enough food to last me a week and enough cake to fatten me up in two evenings. I stood by the door, putting on my shoes, and ready to go home and think.

“Harada-san.”

“Mhm?”

Hiwatari looked lost for once. “Your ride is here.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’m sorry.”

I laughed at his awful timing. My hand reached out to playfully punch him in the shoulder but, after seeing that somber expression on his face, I stopped myself. Only then did I realize the gravity of the situation.

“…your ride is about to leave.”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll see you around.”

When the door closed behind me, I sprinted down. The driver was feeling especially chatty for that trip, affording me a handful of minutes to not think about the shit storm waiting for us. And once they dropped me off at my apartment, it took me everything to not march to Mizuame de Noisette and have an evening full of regret.

I headed up to my room like a responsible adult and decided, instead, to pass out on my sofa, unable to fall asleep despite the tinny notes that usually lulled me to sleep.

…

Daisuke had sent me a message the next morning asking if I could meet with him at the museum café. I sent a message to the group chat I had with Takeshi and Hiwatari saying that I had other lunch plans that day and for them to enjoy their midday meal without me.

So, whilst eating a chicken club sandwich in a sterile museum café, Takeshi kept spamming the chat with the lunch menu from some upscale restaurant. I silenced my phone before tossing it into my purse and giving Daisuke my full attention. He was digging into a salad and wincing with each bite he took.

“Um…are you alright?”

“I need to start losing weight for the wedding.”

I blinked, examining Dasiuke’s lean body for any sign of fat. The man was barely filling out his clothes. What weight was he trying to lose here?

“Please don’t tell me you asked me to come over for solidarity during this time of suffering.”

“Oh no. I just wanted to let you know that Riku’s planning on telling your parents about what happened with you and Satoshi before she left for work later.”

I nearly squeezed the filling out of my sandwich.

“I also wanted to apologize, but I don’t think that’s going to help the situation.”

“Well, even though you’re right, I still accept your apology.” Daisuke nodded. “Actually, I’m kind of also here to ask about what happened with Riku after I left.”

Daisuke looked up from his sandwich in shock. “Satoshi told you?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Well, Riku kind of made us promise her to never tell you about it, but if Satoshi decided to tell you, I’m sure he had a good reason to break it then.”

“Is me asking about how he got close to my parents a good enough reason?”

“Considering the impending situation on our hands, I think so. Besides, I think it’s good that the truth is finally airing itself out even if it’s a little…hectic right now.”

“You’re the last person who should be saying that considering this mess is kind of your fault.”

Daisuke sheepishly smiled. “I suppose you’re right then.”

I watched him cringe through another bite of his salad, and I had half a mind to order the menu item with the largest calorie intake. My future brother-in-law shouldn’t have to suffer like this right after getting engaged.

“Well, I honestly don’t know if I can add onto whatever Satoshi already told you. Since I was in college at the time, I only saw Riku on the weekends. She called me a lot because Satoshi was brutal with her, but I don’t think that’s what you wanted to hear from me.

“I will say, even though I am your sister’s fiancé, I do think that she’s overstepping a boundary here. I understand that she’s hurt, but what she’s set out to do is probably going to cause more harm than good.” Daisuke smiled. “But there’s nothing we can do about that now. Once she’s like that, you know it’s impossible to stop her.”

Our talk had made me lose my appetite, and I left lunch with Daisuke earlier than I thought I would. Takeshi came into the news station that afternoon to gloat about his amazing lunch date with Satoshi, to which I didn’t pay much attention to considering I was more worried about what would occur later that day.

When I got a message from my dad around the time that Riku usually left for work, I knew it was over. I messaged Daisuke, requesting that he ask Kazama to grab a table at Mizuame de Noisette later, and I marched home for what may be one of the worst evenings of my life.

#satorisa #dnangel #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #d.n.angel #dn angel #my writing #fanfiction #lift the veil

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365daysofsasuhina · 4 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred: It’s Futile ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Suigin Ryū ] [ SasuHina ] [ Gun, vulgarity ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Sir, please...I need you to calm d-”

“Y-you don’t understand! This thing, it’s...it’s killing me! Since the model is outdated, my insurance won’t cover it...a-and I can’t afford to have it replaced! And fixing something this old...no one’ll do it, let alone have the parts. And it’ll cost me too much! Please...there’s gotta be something you can do!”

Head in her hands as she tries to think, Hinata mutes herself while she heaves a gusty sigh. How many times a day does she hear stories like this…? It’s all part of her job, she has to numb herself to it, and yet...it eats at her. Every time she has to turn someone down for help, it kills her a little more inside. What she wouldn’t give to find a new job, but they’re so scarce…

“...sir,” she then offers, reenabling her communication mod. As she does, furtive glances side to side show her colleagues busy with calls of their own...and their floor manager is nowhere in sight. Cupping a hand over her ear, she makes to act as if she’s simply leaning her head into her palm.

But as she does, a new transmission - text-based - begins sending alongside the call.

“I’m so sorry, but your policy is...is clear. There’s nothing I can do. If your model is outdated and no longer within the service pool, it cannot be w-worked on and be covered. You’ll have to have it replaced.”

Via text, she sends him, I know an underground biotech who can help. Meet me, and we can see her together to get something figured out. Her high-paying clients help cover those like you. Don’t reply to this text until after five o’clock to give me your answer. She then adds coordinates and a time for a meeting.

There’s a long pause as he clearly goes over her message. “I...I understand. Thank you for your time, miss. I’ll...I’ll think over my options and see what I can do.”

“All right then, sir. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“...I’ll try.”

Letting the call end, Hinata sits back in her chair with a heavy sigh. Oh, if only she could do that for everyone…! But this particular client is suffering from a mod that aids in regulating his heart rate. It could literally kill him if it doesn’t get fixed, and soon. Someone with a loose elbow socket or a cosmetic mod that keeps turning their hair green is not as needing of care. Her underground contact will be able to help him...if he agrees to meet. There’s a risk on all sides, after all...this is very, very illegal.

...but it’s also a matter of life or death.

Technically Hinata can’t arrange any of it until she’s off the clock. Sending that text was risky - she has a relay scrambler to help cover her tracks while she’s connected to the company’s network, but she only uses it when absolutely necessary as not to gain attention to herself. If she were caught going through back doors to help clients that would otherwise be denied their claims? Not only would she lose her job, she’d end up in jail. The government takes mod regulation very, very seriously.

...Hinata knows that well, as both the daughter of a mod mogul, and being someone who’s worked in mod claims for several years now. Few are aware of the ins and outs - and the corruption - of the industry more than her.

She originally got this job hoping she’d be able to help people. Her father’s greed and bowing to the governmental contracts meant a great deal of suffering. Surely companies like the one she found herself working for after her father disowned her would help remedy it, right?

Ha...wrong. They don’t exist to help people...they exist to extort people. And though Hinata does her little bits of good when she can...overall, she’s hardly making a dent.

Hence taking opportunities like this when she can. Any small difference in the grand scheme might be a huge impact one just one life. And for her...for now...that’s enough.

...just like when she hauled that Uchiha out of the litter and took him to the same doctor she’ll be taking this man to, if all goes well.

Which reminds her...this might be a good way to get his debt repaid…! Then she won’t have to worry about him randomly showing up like he did a few days ago, trying to get her to assign him a task to relieve the debt. He’d agreed to serve as a makeshift bodyguard the next time she arranged a meeting like this. It’s perfect…!

She doubts anything will go wrong - it hasn’t yet. But either way, they’ll be out of each other’s hair.

So when her shift ends and she’s cut off from the company network, she steps outside and has her communicator mod dial him.

“Talk.”

Unable to help a small jump at the blunt answer, she stutters, “I-I, um...this is Hinata. Uchiha-san…?”

“I know it’s you.”

“Oh...well, I just wanted to forewarn you, I might have an upcoming job for you. To...to settle the debt?”

“Perfect. Just send me the details and I’ll be there.”

“All right...thank you.”

“Mm.”

The line then goes dead, and she decides to head to her meeting place. She has about twenty minutes - plenty of time. If he shows, she’ll take him to the doc. If not...well, she did all she could. She can hardly force him. Until she knows, however, there’s no point in calling Sasuke in case the man doesn’t show.

The time comes...and then goes. Deciding to wait, Hinata pretends to scroll through her feed along her palm, not wanting to look suspicious.

Ten minutes after the designated time, she’s almost ready to leave when a man walks up beside her.

“H...Hyūga-san…?”

“That’s me. You must be Ito-san?”

“Yes...you - you said you could help me?”

“I can take you to someone who can,” Hinata offers, giving him a small smile. “But we have to be careful...if you would, I’d like to call a...friend of mine to go with us. Just to make sure we’re safe.”

“Oh...are they trustworthy?”

“...yes. It won’t take him long to get here, I just need to call.” Dialing hands-free, Hinata hears Sasuke answer before offering, “Can you make it to my location?”

“Lucky for you, I’m a block away. Had a feeling it would be soon.”

“Thank you.” Disconnecting, Hinata gives the patient another brief smile. “Just a minute, sir.”

When Sasuke approaches, however, Ito goes white as a sheet. “I-is he…?”

“A friend,” Hinata insists, giving Sasuke a look. “It’s not too far, so he won’t be with us long. As I said, it’s just to make sure we arrive safely.”

“...right…” Tone faint, Ito follows as Hinata leads the way toward the doc’s shop, who she sends a mentally-dictated text to forewarning of their arrival.

Got it. I’ll be ready for you in ten.

Rounding the last corner, Hinata can’t help a small gasp as someone suddenly lifts an arm, barring her path as the limb rests at eye level. Ito, beside her, also goes stock still as, from every shadow outside the clinic, men begin to appear.

“Well, well...look who showed up. This the one?”

Nearby, a sunken-eyed man looks Hinata over. “...yeah. That’s her. That’s the one I saw talkin’ to the Uchiha the other day.”

Ohhh shit.

“...p-please sir, I...I have a client that needs -”

“I don’t care about your client, sweetheart,” one of the other yakuza offers, lazily letting his bat rest over his shoulder. “The Uchiha. Where is he?”

“...I-I…” Is he not behind them…? Did he see the ambush coming and bolt?

“I know you two’re in cahoots. So, you tell me where he is...and I don’t gotta bust your kneecaps. Sound like a d-?”

Like a cord-pulled machine, the man suddenly goes slack, crumbling to the alley floor. There’s a moment of shock, and Hinata uses it to drag Ito back around the corner as gunfire rings out.

“O-oh gods...oh gods…!”

“Please, just stay calm!”

“M-my chest...I-I can’t…!”

Panic mounting, Hinata tries to glance around to the chaos. She doesn’t see Sasuke: only the half a dozen goons firing wildly at a ghost.

“Get out here, bastard!” one calls. “It’s futile! I don’t give a shit what mods you have, you’re not takin’ down all of us!”

“Wanna bet?”

In what looks like a flicker, Sasuke stands beside him, pistol to the man’s head before it goes off with a muffled bang. The firestorm starts all over, Hinata flinching back from the sounds. Ito, in the interim, doesn’t look good...she has to get him to the clinic...!

With a roar, an engine flares to life, and a hoverbike screams out from the building toward them. Whipping around, the doc shouts, “GET ON!”

Hefting Ito into the sidecar, Hinata sits behind the doctor, who - for now - circles around the block to buy time.

“What’s going on?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“What about the patient?”

“F...faulty, outdated pacemaker mod. It’s been giving him pain, and I think he might be having a heart attack from the stress!”

Ducking into another alley, Ryū powers down the engine, tossing a piece of tech to the sideroad mouth. An image flickers to life, a hologram hiding their presence as it displays an empty alleyway.

“Let me see.”

Moving out of the way, Hinata lets her work, watching nervously as she attempts to save his life.

This is not what she had in mind…!

By now, police sirens are blaring, and the stimuli are almost making her head swim. Leaning against a building for stability, Hinata does her best to stay calm. But all she can do is worry about Ito, and Sasuke…

…is he still alive? Has he been arrested? If he was...it’s all her fault...she dragged him into -

“Gotcha!”

Crying out, Hinata finds herself lifted by an arm around the throat, pulled out past the hologram and tossed into a van. Doors quickly slam shut, and tires squeal.

“You chose the wrong side in this little turf war, missy,” one of the gangsters offers.

Struggling to breathe in her panic, she can still make out the leaf tattoo along the man’s neck.

...Senju.

Oh gods.

As they fly from the scene, Hinata can’t help but recall the doctor’s words: about helping so many Uchiha. If they found her...will they…? And Sasuke...is he still alive? He...he must be. Why else would they take her? She doesn’t know anything or anyone else!

...or maybe they think she does.

Either way...things just went from bad to worse.

.oOo.

More cyberpunk AU! And uh...things got a little messy :'D Here Hinata thought she'd be getting out of a problem, and now...well, quite clearly, she's got an even BIGGER problem! Fun! I really really REALLY like this verse xD I've even been writing a liiittle bit of it with my OC, too (the doc in this mini series) over on my other account...and I wanna do more! But hopefully I'll have a good prompt soon to do more here, cuz...well, cliffhanger! Sorry xD Anyway, it's SUPER late and I'm falling asleep on my keyboard, so I better go lol - thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #suigin ryū #gun //#vulgarity //#oil and blood [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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