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yoursecondfirstlove · 3 years ago

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Apple of my eye (part 4)

Edward Nashton x F!Reader

(Y/n) invites Eddie over after their walk home one night.

Word count : 1873 words

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Warnings: female reader, alcohol consumption, SMUT, p in v sex, protected sex (be safe kids), oral sex (m and f receiving)

The Riddler activity still hadn’t ceased, no one really expected it to but it still made everyone nervous every time they turned in the news. The news became something of an event every day. (Y/n) especially would spend every free moment scouring her phone for articles or social media posts. It had near become an obsession, she had a sizeable mount of screenshots of anything she could find piling up on her phone. She even popped into his streams sometimes to see if they any inclination to his next move but those were reserved for some special fan club she had no idea how to gain access to.

“He’s here” Ambers voice rang, almost tired of having to shill off the regular, sometimes multiple times a day. She managed to snag a glance over (y/n) shoulder, upon realising her friends ‘research’ the quickly dawned a knowing look. She didn’t say anything but she knew she didn’t have to.

(Y/n) greeted Ed, excitedly in fact. It had been a few days since their first walk home and it had quickly become a ritual. It made (y/n) feel safer, she didn’t know if Edward knew of her run in with the Riddler, she’s been scared to ask for fear he hadn’t and then she’d have to explain it. (Y/n) had a crush on Ed, a major one, she couldn’t deny it and quite frankly she wouldn’t. She’d seen him every day for the past two weeks, he was kind, respectful and adorably shy. Ed was elated at the growing closeness, he cursed himself for not trying to get to her sooner and thanked whatever vast spirits were at play for providing him with the Riddler and in turn the confidence to speak to the woman who had captured his heart in an instant.

Once Ed had got his order (y/n) busied herself with cleaning that was close enough to him to maintain a conversation. “Are you doing anything tonight?” She asked, biting the bullet. Ed looked up at her, half shocked “walking you home, I had guess” he answered slowly, carefully almost. “Like…do you have any plans after that?” He did, a riddler steam for premium followers. “No.” He loved his followers but there was one thing he definitely loved more. “Do you want to hang out?” (Y/n) became bashful, barely maintaining a fleeting eye contact with him. “I…yeah! Yeah I’d love that” (y/n) smiled, flickering her eyes between her hands and him. “Cool”

(Y/n) walked into the kitchen, her face still felt hot and she had retained a coy grin. Dylan caught it immediately, his eyes shot to her and then where she had just been with Ed “holy shit..” he breathed, (y/n) looked up at him “what?” “You asked weird guy on a date!” He laughed out, despite his phrasing his tone clearly showed he was happy for her. Amber popped out of seemingly nowhere “what?!” She too wore an excited expression, honestly happy (y/n) was focusing on something non-Riddler related “it’s not a date! We’re just..hanging out” Dylan was quick to roll his eyes as he leaned against the sink “‘hang out’ yeah, one hundred percent, real convincing.” (Y/n) look at him with jovial annoyance, pushing her tongue against her cheek “you fucking know what” she said taking a joking swing at him commencing some light play fighting as the two giggled like children.

The day wrapped up as it always had and right before she was going to walk out the door she spotted Edward out the window waiting for her, throwing her a friendly wave as he held something under his arm. She waved back rushing to get out and lock the door. As she did Ed greeted her with another smile which she returned as she locked the door and turned back to him only then realising that what he held under his arm was a bottle of wine. He must have seen her gaze on it “oh I uh… I’m pretty sure you need to take something to peoples house so I thought ya know…people like wine so..ya know” he trailed off nervously. (Y/n) giggled finding his babbling adorable. “People do like wine. Thanks Eddie” he grinned widely at the nickname, bashful my throwing his eyes to his feet. They walked as they did every night, (y/n) felt safe with him, like no one else existed.

Once they got to her house they planted themselves on her ragged second hand couch and busted out the wine glasses. Ed clearly had a low alcohol tolerance and so did (y/n) cuz they both felt themselves get more loose lipped.

“Yeah I like…only started coming in so often to talk to you, I couldn’t muster up the courage before so..” (y/n) giggled throwing her head back slightly “well I wished you’d done it sooner, talking to you is like my favourite part of the day” Edwards head whipped to face her “really?” He was looking at her differently. “Yeah” she replied softly, she was sure she was looking at him differently too. These were the faces of too people who definitely wanted to kiss each other, (y/n) knew it.

She took the leap, leaning forward to close the space between them and connect their lips. Edward made a small noise of surprise, leaning forward as well to press his lips harder into hers. He brought his hand up to her jaw and (y/n) hand found a comfortable place on his chest. Both fought to pull each other impossibly closer as the kiss intensified. (Y/n) found herself climbing into Ed’s lap, she looked at him, his lips had reddened slightly, his hair was messy and his glasses were crooked. He looked adorable. She grabbed his wrists to place his hands along her waist as she went in to kiss him again and he eagerly met her in the middle.

Ed’s hands eagerly explored her body, hurriedly jumping from place to place. (Y/n) ground into his lap, he jerked forward in surprise letting out a small moan. (Y/n) broke the kiss, Ed leaning forward to follow her as they broke apart. “Bedroom?” Ed was breathless so he simply nodded. She slide off his lap taking his hand as she did.

Edward fell hard into bed and and once he had (y/n) was in him, kissing his cheeks and his neck practically devouring him. Ed was in cloud nine, drinking in the attention with greedy glee. (Y/n) made quick work of taking off her shirt and bra “oh my god” Edward breathed out as his eyes took in the new skin. (Y/n) giggled as she kissed his neck and down his clothed torso. She undid his belt, gently taking his dick out of his jeans, Ed propped himself up on his elbows as he watched her. She planted a firm kiss to his base and dragged her lips up to his leaking tip, taking him into her mouth greedily, he let out a hitched ragged breath as his head fell back. She hummed as she reached near his base, she couldn’t fit him into her mouth entirely and used her hand to accommodate the rest of him. She steadily began to bob her head. He was loud, moaning, whining and jerking his hips, writhing in pure pleasure. She released his cock, her lips made an obscene pop as she did. She climbed back up his body planting another searing kiss to his mouth that he readily moaned into. As she pulled back she tugged on his shirt and he quickly took it off as she practically ripped off her pants, he followed suit shimmying out of his jeans.

She grabbed a condom and her bottle of lube from the drawer next to her bed, hurriedly ripping off the foil and rolling it down his length, he moaned again, he was so sensitive. She applied to lube slowly, rubbing up and down his dick and his breathing increased. She straddled his hips and sank down onto him, not willing to wait another second without him inside her. She moaned at the fullness, Edward arched his back and whined pathetically. After a few seconds for both to adjust to the new sensation of their connection (y/n) began to bounce eagerly, her hands place firmly on Edwards abdomen for stability. Both moaned wildly, (y/n) eyes were closed with her head thrown back while Ed’s eyes were blown out taking in the sight on top of him. “Oh my god” he breathed out again “you’re so beautiful, so so beautiful, so perfect, angelic” be babbled praise between moans, his voice was higher than normal, the air refused to enter his lungs but he could hardly take notice, all he knew was the woman of his dreams was on top of him, fucking herself on his cock. He could feel the pressure building, the tightness that he had grown so familiar with, the feeling that he found himself experiencing most times he thought about her in his alone time, and he was near mortified “Im going to cum” be breathed, whining. (Y/n) threw her head back forward to look at him, nodding softly “it’s okay baby” she moaned out “let go. Let go it’s okay” she reassured him, at the sound of it he couldn’t contain himself, he came, body spasm if as he sobbed out a whine. After a while his breath steadied and she slid him out of her, kissing his neck sweetly. “You didn’t..” he breathed out softly, almost in shame. “It’s okay honey” “no-n-no it’s not, let me…let me..” (y/n) looked at him. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks shone bright red. She couldn’t deny him anything with his adorable he looked. “Okay”

(Y/n) layer on her back as Eddie settled between her thighs, “tell me.. tell me what feels good okay?” (Y/n) smiles encouragingly, nodding her head. Ed started slow, prodding at her clit with his tongue carefully, she hissed out a moan, arching her back slightly, spurring him on. He intensified his work at her clit and slid his two middle fingers into her, readily finding her g-spot. Edward within a minute had reduced her into a moaning mess, he’d had far too long to think about doing this to not have a detailed plan of action. His tongue and fingering had only gotten more intense and (y/n) was positive she was seeing stars and soon after was sure she had cum harder than she ever had. (Y/n) was shocked as she caught her breath, she had never taken Edward to be a man SO GOOD at head. She was sure she had to keep him.

Ed slid up her body to plant another kiss on her lips, she could feel the proud smile on his face as he he kissed her lovingly, once they broke apart (y/n) asked “you wanna stay the night?” Ed’s grin grew goofily wide as he nodded his head. They settled under her covers, still nude and holding each other close and tight as if both were afraid of the other disappearing.

Ed was sure if it now, she was his, and he would gladly take the life of anyone who got in the way of that.

#edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #Edward Nashton x reader smut #smut #riddler x reader #x reader #paul dano x you #paul dano x reader #paul dano riddler #dano riddler #the batman 2022 #the riddler x reader smut

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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

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Hi I posted an ask regarding your view point on GGDD's safety by people shipping them openly by bus designs, digital hoardings in their country and various other ways. I am not sure if you have already replied because I can't seem to find it. If not, please notify in case you would be interested in posting, there is no pressure or complaints if the answer is not affirmative. Also, I am hoping to read your piece on current issue DD is facing in relation to Nike. I am sure a lot of people enjoy your straight, detailed and analytical thought process and information presentation. A lot of people especially ifans needs to understand the perspective and position an actor or any national level influencer/celebrity is in when they are a citizen of totalitarian regime.

I would love to read, if you decide to write.

Thank you for your blog. It is highly appreciated and welcomed.

Hello Anon! I sincerely apologise ~ my ask box has been very full, and I answer based on time availability (which isn’t much) and “urgency” of the matter (for example, the recent post on Dangai/WoH skipped the line because it’s current). My whim too, occasionally and admittedly; sometimes I’d like to take a breather and talk about something a little more fannish and fun (like window cleaning robots!) Above all, I prefer giving delayed but responsible, or even no answers over irresponsible ones, given some of the subject matter I touch upon. I’ll ... probably have to write up an ask box policy at some point.

Now, my thoughts about Dd’s current situation ... or maybe, my thoughts about the things around it ...

I should explain where my highly disorganised thoughts this time come from first. I’m a Hong Konger by birth, and I grew up at a time when it was still conventional for Hong Kongers to refer themselves as Chinese, following the tradition of referring to the (believed) origin of one’s paternal family as our own origin. I’ve never, however, sworn allegiance to the Chinese government; the two citizenships I’ve ever held are 1) United Kingdom (Hong Kong was still a British crown colony when I was there), and 2) United States.

The distinction between China, the country, and Chinese government, as the country’s rulership, has therefore always been clear to me. You can love, feel a bond with the country, its people and culture and its 5,000 year old history, without having feeling anything with its 71 years-young government with foreign (soviet) roots. To quote Hamilton: Oceans rise, empires fall, and just the central plains of China alone went through a total of 13 recorded dynasties, during which its border waxed and waned, often splitting what is now Chinese territory into multiple countries under different rulership that sometimes split along ethnic lines—China, in that sense, isn’t even historically a country as we define one today; it’s a piece of land in East Asia where different countries have taken over, risen and fallen. And the major ethnic group, Han, which also includes the vast majority of the current political elite, wasn’t always in control. The Yuan dynasty (1271–1368) was famously built by Mongolians; the Qing dynasty (1636–1912), Manchurians. Beijing, the current capital of China, began its illustrious history as The Capital City for the non-Han based, north-of-central-plain dynasties of Liao and Jin. Liao people were believed to be either Mongolic or Tungusic. Jin people were Tungusic, and would eventually become Manchurians. Xinjiang (新疆), meanwhile, was only under the influence of the ancient Chinese empires sporadically, and its formal conquest / incorporation by a Chinese dynasty didn’t happen until ~ 1760, and by the (Manchurian) Qing dynasty. Its late incorporation is also reflected in its name that means, literally, “New Territory”.

What does this all mean? It means: 1) Loving China =/= loving the Chinese Communist Party; 2) Chinese culture =/= Han culture; especially the Han culture infused with “Core Socialist Values” as defined by the Chinese Communist Party; 3) X dynasty’s territory (where X = one of the ancient Chinese dynasties) =/= What has to be People Republic of China’s territory.

And by writing down these three =/=, which I’d argue are simply conclusions from historical facts and logic, I’ve committed an act of subversion in the eyes of the current Chinese government. Remove the “/” in “=/=“, and you’ve got three of the most important talking points of Chinese propaganda.

The sacred, un-violatable rules the Chinese government tells its people.

Why do I mention them? Because the scrutiny, the attack on Dd read familiar to me, and is probably familiar too to all those who’ve kept even a brief eye on Hong Kong and Taiwanese entertainers who work in China. When a topic that violates one of these propaganda points makes news (for example, the HK protest, Hong Kong/Taiwan Independence), entertainers from Hong Kong / Taiwan—anyone who’ve achieved name recognition—are often placed under immediate scrutiny by Chinese netizens to see whether and when they’ll confirm their loyalty towards the Chinese government. The argument is that only those who display absolute loyalty to the Chinese government deserves to earn China’s money, and the main motivation behind this scrutiny, in this case, is mistrust: Hong Kong, after all, is crawling with British loyalists and rioters according to Chinese propaganda, with separatists who’re conspiring with foreign governments to overthrow the Chinese government; the democratic island nation of Taiwan, meanwhile, is supposedly a rogue child who has escaped its mother (China) ’s arms for the past 70+ years—the child who, by the way, shall be brought to their knees (along with into their mother’s arms) by military intervention. Both places, in other words, are serial violators of =/= 1) and 3), and not to be trusted. If their entertainers fail to affirm their loyalty towards the Chinese government, or if the timing of their patriotic display is perceived as off, vicious accusations—similar to those Dd has endured—will fly, and calls for boycott begin.

Here’s a related observation, while I’m at it ... no one in c-ent is really allowed to keep their political views quiet, even if they’re not particularly well-known. No one can say, politics isn’t for me, it’s too ugly/too complicated/doesn’t fit my image and shove it under the proverbial carpet. Under an authoritarian government, control is exerted via politics, via propaganda that seeps into day-to-day language. It’s an oil slick that taints and swims in even the smallest crevice of life—there’s no where to hide.

And Dd is far more famous than almost all of these HK and Taiwan based entertainers. 表態 — a public announcement of his stance — is the only option left for him when he becomes the centre of a sensitive political issue such as this one. And there’s really only one stance he can take.

In that sense, what happened to Dd isn’t something I’m too worried about—this kind of attack under the guise of a “loyalty check” isn’t new; and the motivation behind the scrutiny of Dd is the safer to-take-down-his-career rather than political mistrust. I believe this storm shall pass soon, as long as his team doesn’t make an unexpected, big mistake. His non-fan fellow country people will probably view him with a more positive light as well: he walked the walk and did what he believed is patriotic — breaking a contract like this is no lip service when in China, performative patriotism is often lip service — reportedly even among the top Chinese Communist Party officials.

If I must find more defence for his stance ... please forgive me, Anon, but I don’t have much more to say than what I said last night, what I said before about China’s access to information—

—because, admittedly, following, talking about this incident is difficult for the Hong Konger in me, even if I’ve expected this kind of incidents from the moment I joined this fandom, even if I’ve expected, as I’ve learned from RL experience, that most people I adore in China will at some point support causes that I deeply disagree with. The online patriotic rally by c-motors and c-turtles under the associated Weibo tag, while impressive and good for Dd, is nonetheless heartbreaking/frightening for me to watch. Why? Because I know this can easily turn into a call to persecute all Hong Kongers involved in the democracy movements sometime in the future. Because I know the rally will probably be as impressive if this has been a call to persecute all Hong Kongers involved in the democracy movements. Frankly, I stopped thinking about Nike as I scrolled through the posts — I was thinking about the now impossibly wide gulf that separates most Chinese and a Hong Konger like myself; I was thinking about why a Gg / Dd performance can trend on Twitter in 10+ countries all over the world but makes almost no noise in Hong Kong or Taiwan, places that should’ve most easily fallen in love with Gg / Dd with their closeness in language and customs.

As it turns out, the closeness has only driven HK and Taiwan away; the closeness only brings them more insight of the beast—the government that looms over, cast a long shadow over everything that lives under it, including Gg and Dd.

I was reminded of the fact that many young Hong Kongers probably see me as a traitor just for being a turtle — young Hong Kongers who are n>1 generation immigrants from China, who never spend years reconciling the conflicting viewpoints, the even more conflicting emotions when it comes to this ... almost irreconcilable difference now in political beliefs north and south of the China-HK border. Unlike the older generations who often have immigrants/refugees from China for immediate, un-severable family, who often don’t have the option to walk away from the conflicts, to simply point to the other side and call it evil.

And here are my even-more-conflicting emotions:

While, over the years, I’ve learned to harbour no ill feelings to the vast majority of supporters of pro-CCP causes—I reserve blame for those who conceal the truth, who’re involved in its policy making, or people who live outside the Firewall and should know better (such as every HK entertainer who’ve expressed support)—I’ve also learned, over the same years, to be fully, painfully aware that every endorsement is still an endorsement for the regime to carry on its ways, and the damage is real, is significant even if the endorsers may not know about the true nature of their endorsements.

A simple thought experiment: the sheer size of China’s population means it can easily control the narrative on English-speaking social media. The Chinese government already has a history of mobilising its people to scale the Great Firewall and spread its propaganda on, for example, Twitter. It has also mobilised fan circles for propaganda purpose. Again, as a thought experiment *only* (ie, SJD!), imagine the Chinese government mobilising Dd’s Weibo supertopic fans to spread misinformation about Xinjiang.

Dd’s supertopic has 5+ million members—all savvy social media users and many skilled in the art of comment control (a collective effort, performed by fans to bury critiques/dissent on message boards); the total number of Uyghurs in Xinjiang is ~12 million, but their communications are heavily scrutinised and they can’t really talk. Just for the sake of argument, we’ll add the ~ 70% pro-democracy HK population to Uyghur’s side: that’s another 5 million, but most of them aren’t good at raging a battle on social media.

Which side will control the narrative in the end?

And so: I understand why Dd’s statement is what it is. I don’t fault him for making it. Still, I can’t in good conscience say to anyone, myself included, that the statement is a personal opinion and doesn’t matter. It matters a lot. His announcement is another stab to the Uyghurs, and the knife is sharp because of Dd’s social influence.

(Today, I saw Dd’s name for the first time in a Hong Kong pro-democracy online news site.)

The statement carried this sentence:

國家尊嚴不容侵犯，堅決維護祖國利益 The dignity of the country is not to be violated; the interest of our motherland is to be resolutely defended. Firstly: it’s character-for-character propaganda language. Secondly: even if we do not consider the labor camps, this is the condition in Xinjiang’s city of Urumqi. Where’s the dignity of the people who’re living there and who’s preventing that from being violated? The interest of the motherland—what kind of motherland answers an allegation of human rights violation with “interest” (利=profit, advantage; 益=benefit)? What kind of motherland has “protects its interest” being synonymous with surveillance and abuse of its own people?

I have a motherland, but it’s not the one in this narrative.

The issues of Xinjiang and the Uyghurs have also become even closer to Hong Kongers since 2019, when the fates of Hong Kongers and the Uyghurs became intricately tied—as dual examples of Chinese government’s human rights violations and indeed, these two populations who previously had very little in common have shown solidarity with each other against all odds. Their connection being this one simple, awful fact: both having what they value most stripped away by the same government—the traditions, religion and culture for the Uyghurs, the promised freedoms and hopes for democracy for Hong Kongers. As an online meme goes: “Today’s Xinjiang; Tomorrow’s Hong Kong” — expressing the fear that Hong Kongers may soon be subjected to the same surveillance as the Uyghurs today, for the same reason of having put up a fight against who they saw as their oppressors (this article offers an objective summary of what led to the 2009 clash between the Uyghurs and the Chinese government, which precipitated the former’s treatment as will-be terrorists today)(Note the role the US played in this.).

As such, I cannot look away from Xinjiang. As such, I cannot look at our two beautiful stars, Gg and Dd, without also seeing the flag with its blood red looming behind with its own five stars—the biggest of them symbolising the Chinese Communist Party.

How do I reconcile all the feelings? As I said, it’s a constant work-in-progress, possibly a lifelong one. Re: Gg and Dd, that’s what I tell myself at the moment: that my being an i-turtle shall not sway my view or silence me on any sociopolitical issues, that my being a fan of anything, anyone shall not mean any other human life is suddenly worth less to me, or its suffering, something I shall suddenly look away from. The moment this becomes true—that I find myself depreciating human lives, or ignoring the pain of others for the sake of my fannish pursuits—that’s when I must leave my fan identity until I find my discipline (I do understand the lure of a happy fandom bubble, and I’m far from immune to it). I’m a person before I’m a fan.

These are the rules of my world.

我的世界不退讓。

#pie answers #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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for @oneiriad, who wanted WN/WWX/LWJ - happy birthday! (also on ao3)

Following the war, Wen Qing had had something of a revelation.

Namely, that the vast majority of problems in her life were due to the fact that she was surrounded by a bunch of idiots.

The first she noticed of it was on the day Wei Wuxian brought back a bow and some arrows to the Burial Mounds.

Her first thought had been to begin to worry, as it always was. Why would Wei Wuxian think that they needed a weapon of war? Were the countless arrays and traps with which he had surrounded their home not sufficient? The corpses he had raided graveyards and battlefield for all set at key position points, the talismans that they had painstakingly drawn in seemingly infinite number, the physical barriers they had erected, were those not enough? What threat did he foresee having arisen that required more than that?

And also – why had he only brought back one?

The answer, it turned out, was that Wei Wuxian, terminal idiot, had not thought of war at all. He hadn’t even thought about hunting, as Wen Qing’s fourth uncle had tentatively suggested, not that there was anything to hunt on the Burial Mounds, dead as it was.

No, Wei Wuxian had seen it being sold at a dirt-cheap price and bought it simply because he thought it’d be fun.

Wen Qing huffed at Wei Wuxian’s extravagance – you could tell he was raised rich, no matter what stories he told; they could have used that money for something practical – but in the end he was their benefactor, and, well, the bow and arrows were pretty fun. Wei Wuxian had been among the most skillful of his generation in archery, and although he was somewhat rusty he had retained the majority of his skill. A-Yuan had been particularly charmed, cheering wildly at every trick shot that Wei Wuxian had pulled out of his repertoire, and he hadn’t been the only one.

Towards the end of the day, when Granny had carted A-Yuan back inside over his protests, reminding him that good little boys who’d been standing in the mud all day needed to wash up before dinner, Wei Wuxian had even drawn Wen Ning into his game.

“- have to try it,” he said coaxingly, even as her brother shifted from side to side in embarrassment, wringing his hands. “As soon as I saw it, I thought of you! Do you remember when we first met?”

“The archery competition,” her brother murmured.

“You were practicing,” Wei Wuxian said with a laugh. “You had it almost right back then – you have no idea how much I wanted to come over to help you fix your stance.”

“It – probably wouldn’t have helped.”

“No, no, it would have! You’d be amazed at how much having the right stance will help – here, let me show you.”

“Wei-gongzi –”

“I insist!”

There was some rearranging, and the next time Wen Qing looked over, Wei Wuxian was standing right beside her brother, one hand on his hip and the other on his arm, gently guiding him into position. The laughter had fallen off his tongue, and he looked intent upon what he was doing.

“You were as skittish and shy as a rabbit back then,” he said. His voice was low, lower than normal – if Wen Qing could see his eyes, she would wager that they were darker than usual, too. His hand did not need to linger at her brother’s hip, but did. “I couldn’t come close or else you’d bolt…but things are different now, aren’t they?”

Her brother shivered as if an usually cold gust of wind had gone by – a gust of wind that, as a fierce corpse, he would not feel.

So that’s how it is, Wen Qing thought to herself. Wen Ning’s infatuation with their benefactor had been obvious from the beginning, when he’d begged so earnestly for her to help with Jiang Cheng; his eyes had been so bright and hopeful that she hadn’t had the heart to remind him that it was pointless to hope. And for his part, Wei Wuxian had tried very hard to revive her brother, far more than bare handful of meetings and a favor done would merit.

Perhaps those long-buried feelings of her brother’s hadn’t been so pointless after all.

Wen Qing forcefully quashed the part of her that wanted to march over and demand that Wei Wuxian make his intentions clear at once (she would accept marriage or nothing for Wen Ning, fierce corpse or not). For one thing, Wei Wuxian was their benefactor – she was in no position to be making demands or threats – and for another, it seemed unnecessary.

They seemed to be doing perfectly fine on their own.

Lan Wangji had come to visit again.

“Is the Lan sect bored of rebuilding, do you think?” she asked Granny, rolling her eyes – it was at least the fifth visit, and Lan Wangji stayed longer every time. “You’d think their second young master would have more work to do; it’s not like Yiling is next door.”

“I don’t think that’s why he’s come to visit,” Granny said. They were doing laundry together, one of the unavoidable daily chores - normally, Granny would be watching a-Yuan, but today he was out for a walk with Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning trailing behind like the faithful shadow he sometimes seemed to wish to become.

Wei Wuxian had very proudly explained in the morning that they were taking A-Yuan on his very first “night-hunt”, never mind that it was the middle of the afternoon, with the sun still high in the sky, or that A-Yuan’s only weapon was a stick he had taken to waving around whenever Lan Wangji practiced his sword forms in the morning and night.

(Wei Wuxian watched as well, hunger in his eyes, and Wen Qing turned away, a bitter taste on her tongue. She would not begrudge Wei Wuxian the grief of his sacrifice, but she sometimes wished he’d acknowledge a little bit more that he was not the only one who had given things up that day.)

“What’s the reason, then?” Wen Qing asked, mind mostly elsewhere – calculating what the other members of the clan would be able to earn today at the market and what would be the best thing to spend it on. They needed new clothing, and A-Yuan new shoes, but they might be able to convince his ‘rich gege’ to cover the shoes and the clothing could be mended a few more times before it truly needed replacing. That would free up enough money for other necessities. “I don’t think he’s still suspicious of Wei-gongzi.”

Granny laughed. “Suspicious isn’t the word I’d use, no. Madly in love? Maybe.”

Wen Qing’s brain returned back to the present conversation so quickly she almost imagined that she could feel her brain hitting her skull from the whiplash.

“What?” she asked, voice sharp. “Hanguang-jun likes – Wei-gongzi?”

“Hadn’t you noticed?”

“But Wei-gongzi…” Wen Qing trailed off, reviewing past events in her mind. The way Wei Wuxian’s eyes lit up whenever Lan Wangji arrived, shouting Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! – an incredible intimacy, now that she thought about it, about equal to the way with which he addressed Jiang Cheng – and the way they spent time together, walking or talking or just staring into each other’s eyes. The way Lan Wangji paid for everything Wei Wuxian might want (in other words, nothing practical). The way Wei Wuxian would talk about him even when he wasn’t there.

The way the two of them sometimes duetted at night, guqin and dizi matching each other perfectly in the moonlight.

(Wen Ning played a little, too, but the Wen sect hadn’t bothered with anything more than the most perfunctory lessons – no private tutors or anything like that – and he was only all right, not great. Certainly not good enough to keep up with either of those two masters.)

Wen Qing frowned thunderously.

After the “hunting party” returned, she went to find Wen Ning.

“I know you’re grateful to him,” she said plainly the second they were alone. “I am, too. But that doesn’t mean you should let him walk all over you.”

Wen Ning blinked at her. “Walk…what?”

“If Wei-gongzi is two-timing you with Hanguang-jun –”

“Jiejie!” Wen Ning hissed, his hands flying up to cover his face as if he could still blush. “It’s not like that!”

“Isn’t it? Because that’s not what Granny says. She says Hanguang-jun is in love.”

“He is,” Wen Ning said.

Wen Qing frowned, confused. “Wei-gongzi is leading him on, then? I would have thought better of him.”

“You apparently thought he was two-timing me, so clearly your view of him isn’t that good,” Wen Ning said, sounding injured on Wei Wuxian's behalf, because of course he was. “He’s not like that. He’s not – we’re not – it’s not like that. Between us.”

“It isn’t? But he likes you, and I know you like him.” Wen Qing hesitated. “Is it – the fierce corpse thing? We’ve been making a lot of progress on restoring your bodily functions over the past few months. If you’ve been having performance issues, we could prioritize –”

“I have not been having performance issues.” Wen Ning looked like he wanted to die, which was not an uncommon look on his face for their private conversations. For someone who helped out with her surgeries on a regular basis, he was still so very shy sometimes. “It hasn’t come up.”

Wen Qing quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Not what I meant, jiejie. It’s just…Wei-gongzi doesn’t…he’s not very good at understanding his own emotions.”

Wen Qing thought about Jiang Cheng and made a sour face. “No, he’s not.”

“Unless it’s pointed out to him, he won’t even notice that he likes someone,” Wen Ning continued. “Or that – someone likes him.”

“All right,” Wen Qing said, because that did fit her understanding of Wei Wuxian a lot better than either two-timing or leading someone on did. “Fine, then. I assume Hanguang-jun hasn’t said anything, even if only because he’s made of stone, so you’d better be the one to point it out to him.”

“I did. Early today, when we were out.”

“Good,” Wen Qing said. “So where is he?”

“With Hanguang-jun,” Wen Ning said.

“With –” Wen Qing stopped. “A-Ning. What did you point out to Wei-gongzi?”

He shrugged and ducked his head.

“A-Ning! Why? You like him so much…”

“He could have Hanguang-jun,” he pointed out, soft and sad the way her brother too often was. The way he often wasn’t, when Wei Wuxian was smiling at him. “Why would he want me?”

“Mistress Wen,” Lan Wangji said, standing at the door to the cave she was using as a makeshift clinic.

Wen Qing wasn’t sure of what to make of his presence - he’d more or less moved in ever since he and Wei Wuxian had gotten together, but he didn’t often seek out the company of anyone but Wei Wuxian. Least of all her, but then again, she hadn’t been the most welcoming, angry as she still was over Wen Ning’s quiet and unnoticed heartbreak.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, and wasn’t surprised when he shook his head. “Then what can I do for you?”

“Advice,” he said.

Wen Qing mentally sighed, but nodded and gestured for him to come sit down. She’d have to get used to treating him like he was one of the family sometime - he was part of life at the Burial Mounds now, part of Wei Wuxian’s life, and there wasn’t any revisiting that decision.

Also, A-Yuan loved him.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, practical as always.

Lan Wangji didn’t quite meet her eyes, which for him was practically a confession of nervousness. Possibly even embarrassment – was that a hint of pink in his ears?

“Just spit it out,” Wen Qing said with a sigh, outwardly this time. “I’m a doctor. There’s very little I haven’t dealt with before, whether it’s a matter of the human body, the human heart, or the human mind.”

Lan Wangji nodded slowly. “You may know that I cannot currently return to the Cloud Recesses.”

Wen Qing had gathered that certain parts of his family had not been taking his decision to get together with Wei Wuxian especially well, although she’d heard that his brother was fully supportive. Since said brother was the sect leader, he ought to carry the day in the end, but she could definitely understand how the job of convincing the sect that the relationship was acceptable was probably best done with Lan Wangji conveniently elsewhere.

“I understand the awkwardness that this might cause,” he said. “And I have been – trying, recently, to find time to leave the Burial Mounds on my own. Taking night-hunts when I know Wei Ying is busy, or finding an excuse to go into town for the evening…and yet, the last time I went, I discovered that Wei Ying had sent Wen Qionglin to guard my inn for the night.”

“He does that,” Wen Qing agreed, a little mystified. She’d thought Lan Wangji liked to stick to Wei Wuxian like burnt rice to the pot. “Since A-Ning doesn’t need sleep…are you getting bored of Wei-gongzi or something?”

“Certainly not,” Lan Wangji said, sounding a little offended. “It was only that I had gone specifically in order to leave Wei Ying and Wen Qionglin time to be – alone.”

“…why?”

Lan Wangji blinked at her. His ears were definitely red now. “I had not presumed –” He stopped, coughed a little. “I am very grateful that Wei Ying has agreed to be with me, but I would never seek to deprive him of joy by causing trouble in his existing relationship.”

“Existing relationship,” Wen Qing said faintly. “With – A-Ning.”

Lan Wangji nodded. He appeared relieved that they were on the same page.

“Have you…mentioned this goal of yours?” she asked, trying to suppress a hysterical set of giggles. “To Wei-gongzi? Or did you just drop hints? He’s not – I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this, but he’s not great with hints.”

Lan Wangji looked a little long-suffering, something Wen Qing could generally relate to. “I tried to make my position clear earlier today,” he said. “I told him that I knew of the esteem he had for Wen Qionglin, the clear affection between them – the longing with which Wen Qionglin looks at him, the way Wei Ying’s eyes linger on him in return. I told him that I did not have any expectations that he would yield up Wen Qionglin simply for my sake, that I had already accustomed myself to the notion that I would be sharing him…that I truly didn’t mind if he would like to spend some nights in his bed, rather than my own.”

A-Ning doesn’t even have a proper bed, Wen Qing thought, rather irrelevantly. He’d refused to let them waste time building him one when he didn’t really need sleep, anyway; he’d said they could use the time on more necessary tasks.

“And how did he react?” she asked instead.

“Strangely,” Lan Wangji said. “He turned bright red and sought to deny it, but I assured him once again that it was not an issue – if anything, I am grateful to Wen Qionglin for his graciousness in allowing Wei Ying to open his heart to me as well – and for some reason he spluttered a great deal and then ran away. I came to you to see if you could shed some light on…Mistress Wen?”

Wen Qing was clutching onto her face and rocking back and forth, trying to breathe through the intense desire to laugh.

“Lan-er-gongzi,” she choked out. “You are both insightful and wise – wiser than either of them.”

“…Mistress Wen?”

“You’re not wrong,” Wen Qing said. “Wei-gongzi likes my brother rather a lot, and my brother’s been half in love with him since forever. But they’re not actually together.”

Lan Wangji gaped at her.

“I know,” she said. “My brother decided that between him and you, you were more suitable, so he confessed on your behalf instead of his own. I don’t think the notion of sharing ever came up.”

“Oh.”

“And Wei-gongzi is so thick when it comes to matters of emotion that it’s unlikely he even realized what he was missing – at least until you brought it to his attention,” she added dryly. “I hope you meant what you said about being all right with it.”

Wei Wuxian might be slow when it came to figuring out his feelings, but he wasn’t slow when it came to asserting them. He was probably accosting her brother right now, and –

And she wasn’t going to think about that. That’s her baby brother, damnit.

“I am,” Lan Wangji said. “I do not lie. They have a way between them…it would make Wei Ying happy. I want Wei Ying to be happy.”

All right, fine. Wen Qing would reluctantly agree to like Hanguang-jun, him being so reasonable and all.

“Maybe arrange for a selection of different nights?” she suggested. “You can come here and do research with me on the nights when your bed is occupied…A-Ning refused to let us get him one, since he doesn’t sleep. He said it’d be a waste of money.”

Lan Wangji looked appropriately off-put by that. “I could obtain one, if that would be helpful..?”

“Immensely,” Wen Qing assured him. “He has no idea how to turn down gifts – it’d be perfect.”

She paused, considering Lan Wangji. She hadn’t asked before, since it had seemed almost presumptuous, but if he really was going to be staying…

“How much do you know about radishes?”

“Wen Qing! I need help!”

“At least you admit it, Wei-gongzi,” Wen Qing said peacefully. The radish garden was doing so well now that she’d put Lan Wangji to work, she could positively cry. And maybe open up a new field for potatoes the way Wei Wuxian had wanted.

“Admit – hey!” Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes at her. “I come to you for help and you make fun of me?”

“Every time,” she agreed. “What do you want, anyway?”

“I want help, obviously,” he said, and sat down next to her. “I want to convince Lan Zhan and Wen Ning to get together.”

Wen Qing stopped what she was doing, reached up to scrub her ears, and said, “I’m sorry, you want to what?”

“I want to get Lan Zhan and Wen Ning together,” he said, which was what she’d thought he said, except for the fact that it was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. Surely he didn’t mean – “You know. Romantically.”

Nope. He meant it.

“Not sexually?” she asked, even though that by itself would be a stretch. Lan Wangji and Wen Ning tolerated each other for Wei Wuxian; left to their own devices, they did not spend any time together.

“Well, I mean, sexually would be fun, too,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes getting all misty like he wasn’t talking about her brother. “They’d be gorgeous together…but no. More than that. I’m tired of this whole bed-hopping, time-sharing thing. I want us all to be together!”

“That’s – a nice thought,” Wen Qing managed to say. “You realize they have nothing in common except you, right?”

“They have plenty in common!” Wei Wuxian argued. “They’re both intelligent and cultured, with a good education – they were both in the Sunshot Campaign –”

On opposite sides. Remember?

“– and, really, Wen Ning’s a whole lot better than I ever was when it comes to rules of all sorts. I bet they could have all sorts of fun discussions about that.”

Sure. Rules. Why not?

Wei Wuxian exhaled gustily and put his chin in his hands. “Nothing I’ve been doing seems to have worked, though,” he complained. “I’ve tried everything…today I even called them both over under the premise of there being an emergency and then left them to solve it themselves.”

“You did what?”

“I wanted them to spend some time together!”

Wei Wuxian was, it was sad to say, a total idiot.

On the other hand, she thought as she looked over his shoulder as two rather irritated looking men stalking their way up the path to the Burial Mounds, both sets of eyes fixed on Wei Wuxian’s back, he had also always been a very lucky idiot.

“Well, maybe they found something to talk about,” she said comfortingly, omitting to mention that the subject of the conversation that seemed most likely was going to be how they would punish Wei Wuxian for his nonsense when they returned.

“You think so?” Wei Wuxian asked, looking hopeful. “It’d be so much nicer if they could just let down their reservations, put down their guards, and just relax –”

“Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian twisted so fast that Wen Qing was momentarily concerned that he’d pulled something.

“Lan Zhan! Wen Ning!” he said, beaming widely. “How nice to –”

His lips zipped shut.

The infamous Lan sect silencing spell, Wen Qing presumed.

Wen Ning nodded at her in greeting as he came over and picked Wei Wuxian up as if he weighed less than a bag of their radishes, tossing him over his shoulder as if – well, like bag of radishes again.

“Lead the way,” he said to Lan Wangji, who also nodded at Wen Qing, and then the three of them – Lan Wangji, Wen Ning, and a struggling-but-not-really-struggling Wei Wuxian – walked off to the Demon-Slaughtering Cave.

Where, no doubt, they would sit and have tea. With all their clothing firmly on, while maintaining an appropriate distance from each other.

An older sister could only hope.

Wen Qing sighed.

Wei Wuxian was only going to get even more intolerably smug when this was all over.

Really, though. So many problems – entirely because people just couldn’t stop being stupid.

Maybe she could fix the Jiang Cheng situation too, while she was at it.

#mdzs #wen qing #wen ning #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my fic #my fics

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anon-rebel-writes · 3 years ago

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Something Simple

Hi! Hey! How’s it going? Good? That’s so good!

So I’ve been gone...Ha ha. I feel like I should have an excuse ready, and an apology, and a promise to do better in the future. But honestly, I don’t have...any of those.

Well I do have an apology, I’m sorry that I’ve been gone and kinda just left the internet. I don’t really look at social media as much as I used to (which honestly is super good for mental health, but kinda sucky if you do stuff on social media :P)

I haven’t had a ton of ideas lately, and when I do, I get frustrated with myself because it’s not the most amazing piece that I’ve ever worked on. I had a serious talk with my girlfriend (she’s seriously the majority of my inspiration for most of my works) and she said something that gave me an epiphany.

Sometimes you just have to make some sucky tea until you make the best tea of your life :) (I swear that makes more sense if you read the story lol)

I like domestic fluff. I like short and simple stories. So that’s what this is! I don’t wanna waste my time waiting fro inspiration to strike when I can make something to get me through writer’s block! So if you don’t mind my wacky schedule, I hope you enjoy this simple piece :)

It begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link

This should be easy.

It used to be easy for him when he was younger. When he was five, Luka would listen to the waves on the boat and hear a unique tune out of it. At eleven, his mom told him about an old tale she heard and he wrote lyrics based on it. Sixteen, Juleka would idly pluck her bass and he’d come up with three different songs just from the sound. Music was natural to him.

Now it was hard. Nothing inspired him. He was supposed to be a musical guy. How could this tear him down so easily! Maybe his life was too good now. No problems to sing about, no unrequited love songs, no daddy issues. His life was great! What happened to him?

After his dad came back into his life, he appreciated their little relationship. They would jam out and have fun, although it was still awkward to call him ‘dad’, it still seemed fine. He found out a lot of weird stuff with magic and identities when he was younger, but it led to Marinette confessing a huge secret to him. Misunderstandings got cleared up and they ended up reigniting their romantic relationship. After proposing to her last year, they got an apartment that was perfect for them.

Everything was perfect, really. Maybe that was the problem, everything was perfect. Juleka did tease him lately about “losing his edge”. Was his edge gone? His blue dyed hair was barely visible nowadays, any tattoos he got during university were usually covered up by his vast collection of MDC sweaters, even his ear piercings were replaced with whatever colored ones matched his outfit that day!

Maybe he was getting old. He was getting engaged to one of the sweetest people in the world, maybe her sugar-like sweetness rubbed off on him.

Was his music destined to be lost to the winds forever? Did all the talent leave his blood the moment he started settling into a domestic life? Juleka seemed to keep her musical charm, she still did small gigs with Rose in coffee shops every now and then. Ivan even toured around with his new band after university.

All Luka did now was make instruments. Was that even close to musical? His dad supported his career decision, despite intense protests. His in-laws helped him open a little shop. Everything was so easy and simple.

Even now, he waited for Marinette to come home so they could finish watching 'Halloween Wars'. He spends his nights watching reality television. Who has he become?!

It clearly led him here, on his couch, guitar in hand, with no progress being made. He wanted to make something fantastic. Something that Marinette would hear and be reminded of the songs he used to write for her. Luka would sing to her and he would tell himself how he “still has it”.

But nothing came out. No tune, no music, no notes, no lyrics, nothing. Luka sighed and put his guitar on the side of the couch and decided to take his mind off of music, at least for now. A little break should be good! Looking across the living room, he realized the utter mess he made.

Music sheets were scattered across the coffee table, pencils somehow found their way to the floor. Maybe he should clean up, just to have a clean environment to work in.

…

Or maybe he should make himself some tea. Tea always gets creative juices flowing! Not cleaning up, nope. That’s what people do when they’re avoiding stuff and Luka Couffaine does not avoid stuff! Especially not cleaning messes that look like a natural disaster hit his living room. Nope, not avoiding.

So that’s where Marinette found the love of her life two hours later after work. In the kitchen, making tea, warzone in the living room and his heart clearly broken. Opening the apartment door and seeing the utter chaos made her remember just who she was about to marry, but going into the kitchen and seeing the look of despair on his face when he realized they had no honey for his tea was just plain sad.

She took off her shoes and coat and walked over to where he stood, hunched over the counter, staring deeply into his bitter tea. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she let her head rest between his shoulder blades. “Lu? You okay?”

Instead of answering, Luka gently stirred the tea with a spoon and shook his head. “...we forgot to buy honey.”

“And…that’s the only reason you seem upset?”

One quick glance over to the living room definitely made her question if honey was truly the culprit. Then again this wouldn’t be the first time a Couffaine had caused trouble for something small. She’d never forget the shape of the boat after the Captain had lost her favorite headband.

“I… can’t make music anymore.”

Marinette slowly let go of his midsection and turned him to face her. She squinted at his face, trying to see if this was an elaborate joke. “Uh- No offense, but that doesn’t seem possible. I mean… music is second nature to you.”

“You don’t get it. I lost my edge! I’m not cool anymore. I don’t have daddy issues, or love issues, or school issues, or work issues, or-”

“Yeah yeah, you were an angsty boy. But music didn’t come from you because you were edgy. Music is just a part of who you are. Whether you have issues or not. And believe me, the songs you used to write for me were anything but edgy.”

Luka sighed and grabbed his cup of bitter tea. He looked in it and gave it to Marinette. “This tea sucks. It’s like my music. It doesn’t have that ‘umph’ that it needs to be good.” She looked into the cup and decided to take a sip. She let the flavor sit on her tongue for a bit and stared back into the cup, thinking to herself for a second.

“The tea isn’t great, I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s just… simple. Nothing too extraordinary, nothing too disgusting. It just tastes like tea. And maybe you just need to make simple tea every once in a while before you can go back to making your delicious Luka juice.”

He chuckled at her analogy and took the tea cup back to give it one last sip. Honestly Marinette was right, although she always tended to be right about these things, the tea wasn’t awful. It wasn’t his favorite, but not every song is his favorite either.

She gave him a kiss on his cheek before heading over to their bedroom.

Luka decided to move back over to the living room to clean the area up a little bit. He put away the massive amount of paper and took most of the pencils from the area, leaving only one sheet of music, his guitar, and a single pencil.

He let out a deep sigh and sat back down on the couch, grabbing his guitar. He sat back and stared down at the music sheet on the table. “Something simple, huh?”

#Pro Lukamari #lukanette #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #domestic fluff #fluff #tea #creative block #music #happy ending #complete

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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 years ago

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Understanding the aftermath of r/wallstreetbets

A couple days back, I wrote up my best understanding of what happened with /r/wallstreetbets and meme stocks like Gamestop, trying to show how all the different, seemingly contradictory takes on the underlying financial stuff could all be true.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/28/payment-for-order-flow/#wallstreetbets

In the days since, a new series of contradictory takes has emerged, these ones disputing the meaning of this bizarre financial spectacle, and likewise what response, if any is warranted as it unfurls.

I think that all of these takes can also be true, and as with the trading itself, reconciling them requires that we widen the frame.

Let's start with Jimmy Carter.

In 1978, Carter's IRS created the 401(k), a tax-sheltered account for people who wanted to gamble on stocks to fund their retirement.

That was a fringe proposition at best.

The normal retirement system was a "defined benefits" pension where your employer guaranteed you a certain monthly percentage of your salary from retirement to death.

The vast majority of Americans wisely prefered a guaranteed payout to a tax-advantaged gambling account.

Obviously, right? On the one hand, you have the guarantee of a pension (maybe even inflation-indexed); on the other, you have a bunch of bets, that, if they go wrong, leave you literally homeless and starving.

When gamblers remortgage the family home and cash in the kids' college funds to play the tables, we consider them to have a mental illness, a pathological condition that harms them and the people around them.

Giving up a defined benefits pension in favor of a 401k is just the same kind of bet - staking all the money that will support you when you exit the workforce on the movement of stocks and bonds.

Who would do that voluntarily?

Pretty much no one. But the transition from defined benefits to 401k was not voluntary. Finance ghouls like Ethan Lipsig wrote memos to major employers like Hughes Aircraft showing them how they could ditch their pension obligations by moving workers to 401ks.

In the 80s, Reagan created a bunch of legal tools that allowed employers to coerce their workforces into giving up the security of a pension and force them into gambling their salaries on the prayer of a win in the markets.

This was insanely, amazingly great for the finance sector, in three ways:

1. It made companies more profitable. Guaranteeing that the workers whose labor made your company viable wouldn't spend their dotage starving and homeless is expensive.

Helping fund wagers on shares is much cheaper. The finance sector represented the major shareholders of the companies that transitioned to 401ks. The savings were transferred to these shareholders and the finance sector got commissions.

What's more, this temporary inflation of share prices disguised what was going on with the pension switcheroo: workers' defined benefits pensions were liquidated and turned into stocks, just as stocks were going up because their pensions had been liquidated!

Their legs had been amputated out from under them, but so subtly that they didn't yet feel the pain - and now their bosses cooked their legs and snuck them into their dinner, and everyone marveled at how full they felt after that hearty, meaty meal.

2. 401ks brought a lot of suckers to the table. The market was - and is - dominated by "sophisticated investors," AKA predators, who knew all the ways to fleece the rubes who had no idea how any of this worked.

The predatory nature of finance only increased over time. Hedge funds, for example, exist to find unethical practices that are legal (thanks to loopholes in the rules) and exploit them until they are illegal.

3. 401ks created a political force outside the finance sector that would lobby on its behalf. Transforming America into a nation of stockholders meant that workers had to choose between supporting rules that protected their jobs and rules that protected their retirement.

For your pension account to grow, you had to support policies that permitted finance ghouls to offshore your job, or misclassify you as a contractor, or eliminate the safety rules that prevented you from being maimed, or take away your right to sue for compensation.

Every time there's a particularly ghastly bankruptcy driven by PE or hedge funds - Toys R Us, Sears, etc - it emerges that at least some of that money is coming out of a union pension fund.

That's marketization - turning the once obscure, boring business of market-based capital allocation into a matter of import to everyday people.

Marketization begat financialization.

While marketization is primarily about capital allocation (who gets what money), financialization is about bets. Sometimes those bets are about things - businesses, houses, coal and timber - but things are limited. Mostly the financial market consists of bets on other bets.

Bets are infinite. Every time you make a bet, you create inventory for a market in a bet on the outcome of your bet. And that's inventory for a new market: bets on the outcomes of bets on the outcomes of bets.

It's called Wall Street Bets for a reason.

Bets need referees, someone who decides who the winner is. In sports, it's a major scandal if a referee is caught wagering on one of the teams in a match. In the financial markets, it's the norm - referees that lay wagers on the outcome of the contest they're overseeing.

Let's take stock:

Workers are forced to play the casino, and if their bets fail, they spend their old ages homeless and starving;

The vast majority of casino games are wholly abstract - bets on bets on bets - and require layers of refs;

the refs are all crooked.

Every couple of years, we have a massive, systemic financial crisis, and every time that happens, the finance sector lobbies for a no-strings-attached bailout, abetted by suckers who hate the finance sector but fear starving in their old age.

We're about to be engulfed in the second-largest crisis of our lifetime - the reckoning from trillions in capital market gains propped up by the Trump administration's policy of buying all corporate debt as a covid stimulus.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/28/cyberwar-tactics/#aligned-incentives

(the largest crisis of our lifetimes is a few years off, as the climate emergency piles losses on losses, stranding tens of trillions in assets, from fossil fuels to obsolete gas-stations to literally underwater coastal real-estate to whole towns incinerated by wildfires)

That's where we're at: a crooked casino that we've trusted our futures too, a crisis on the horizon, and a bunch meme-stock "players" who have thrown the normal weirdness of the market into stark relief through a spectacular stunt.

A lot of people are angry at Robinhood, the stock-trading platform at the center of all this. Robinhood froze trading on meme stocks, and has only allowed it to come back in a useless, performative trickle that is seemingly calculated to prevent more meme-stock gamesmanship.

Is Robinhood just another crooked ref? Yes…and no. The meme stock run upset the stable cheaters' equilibrium whereby cheating never escalated to the point where the game just collapsed.

For example, the total short position on Gamestop exceeds its total stock issuance.

Translation: there were more Gamestop shares promised between bettors than exist. When the game stops, all those promises come due, and they literally can't be paid off because there aren't enough tokens in circulation to settle all the debts.

Robinhood halted trading in part because the big fish upstream of Robinhood also halted trading, because they have even more at risk than Robinhood does if the game collapses - they the refs for MANY players, all the same size as Robinhood or larger.

https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2021-01-29/reddit-traders-on-robinhood-are-on-both-sides-of-gamestop

But remember, the refs are cheating. And they are both downstream and upstream from other games in which the refs are also cheating.

And the games, as a whole, encompass our economy, including the solvency of the "real economy" (the people who make masks, deliver groceries and drive ambulances), and whether you spend your old age homeless and starving.

So the people who say, "Don't blame Robinhood, they didn't halt trading to help billionaires, they halted trading to prevent the game from collapsing are right."

But they're not the only ones who are right.

Also, there's the people who say that meme stocks aren't making money for little guys at the expense of the big guys. They're right too.

First, because these stocks will all need to be converted to cash, and that means selling them.

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2021/01/the-gamestop-bubble-is-going-to-hurt-a-lot-of-ordinary-investors/

When the selloff starts, the price will plunge, because even if the stock was undervalued before, it's certainly overvalued now. Every bubble produces wealth for its early bettors who sell out to later players who lose everything when they can't find a sucker later on.

From Beanie Babies to subprime, bubbles burst and leave suckers holding the bag. If you just heard about meme stocks last week, you're too late to make money off of them.

There's another version of the "this isn't little guys, it's big whales" that's *also* true: the main beneficiary of the meme stock runs is giant funds who magnified and the bets from r/wallstreetbets and got out smart and fast.

https://twitter.com/zatapatique/status/1354904995901136896

So given all this, what can we make of calls (from parties as varied as AOC and Ted Cruz) to investigate Robinhood and other retail brokerages to see whether they're honest refs, or in the tank for billionaires?

At Naked Capitalism, Yves Smith calls this a "fatuous uproar," saying that the Senate has more important things to do during the racing-out-of-control pandemic than to investigate a literal penny-ante grift.

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2021/01/the-fatuous-uproar-about-robinhood-and-gamestop.html

Do we really care who the winner is in "a beauty contest between Cinderella’s ugly sisters" ("clueless new gen day traders versus clumsy shorts")?

Smith is right too.

A speculator-v-speculator contest that falls apart when the crooked ref halts play to prevent collapse - who cares who "wins?"

But here's how they can all be right - the "who cares" and the "goliath v goliath" and the "bubble" and the "Robinhood is a plutes' honeypot."

*If* there's hearings, and *if* those hearings expose the absurdity and corruption of the system, *then* there is a chance to build the political will to make real, systemic changes when the crisis comes.

And there's a real crisis coming: two, in fact. The covid junk bond financial crisis, which is due very soon, and the climate crisis stranded asset emergencies, which will unroll with increased tempo and intensity for decades to come.

The half-century cycle of "addressing" finance crises by increasing financialization MUST stop.

If the meme stock spectacle gets us to pay attention to hearings that reveal the irredeemable rot of the system, then it's a unique chance to spread *real* "financial literacy."

And that literacy is the necessary (but insufficient) precursor to taking action when the time comes - and the time is certainly coming soon.

#pluralistic

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briefinquiries · 5 years ago

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Luke Alvez x Reader: Seeing Red

Request: “Can I request an imagine where Luke is jealous of someone the reader is interacting with? Thank you :)”

Tagged: @ssaic-jareau , @alvezstan , @saintd0lce , @ogmilkis, @reidswords , @ssa-morgan , @garcias-batcave , @akimagies, @zhangyixingxing1 , @pinkdiamond1016

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

A/N: kjsdkljfa sweet baby luke being all insecure made me so soft, i luv him sm. pls come talk to me about luke.. ok enjoy!

You had been doing it all day. Maybe not intentionally, but enough for Luke to notice. Luke wasn’t the jealous type. He was secure, and he felt confident in his relationship with you. Jealousy was stupid, and Luke wasn’t stupid. So why was he noticing the way you and the deputy of the Austin field office naturally interacted with each other with such ease?

Luke had a case file in hand. It was pertinent that he remain focused on his assigned task. And he tried, he really did. He was reviewing victimology, reading up on what the Austin PD had on each of their missing women. Or at least attempting to.

But when the deputy made a joke and reached out to touch your arm for added effect, Luke started seeing red.

He had to read the page four times before comprehending any of it.

Throughout the remainder of the team’s time in Austin, Luke tried to remain level headed. He kept reassuring himself that he was overreacting. This wasn’t flirting.

Emily had sent you to go with him to visit the latest crime scene upon your arrival, so he was probably just trying to be friendly- make you feel welcome.

But did he really have to look at you like that while you delivered the profile? Or request that you take a ride to the latest victim’s apartment with him? And did he really have to have you doubled over laughing over something he’s said at the back table?

Luke’s biting back the urge to cross the room and wrap his arms around you, right in front of the deputy who was simultaneously doubling as an apparent comedian. Maybe if he pulled you in for a long kiss, it’d get this joker to back off, as he claimed you as his.

But Luke shook the thought away. He was definitely overreacting.

…

Luke drops a coffee cup in front of you early the next morning. The team was still working the case in Austin, and with no new leads, it seemed likely that you’d be here for a while. You’re hunched over a pile of paperwork, a piece of banana bread in your hand.

Luke watches as you flash him an appreciative smile. “Thanks, but I’ve already had some today. Why don’t you give this to Tara? She takes her coffee the same as I do.”

But Luke frowns. “When did you have time to get coffee?” he asks, already knowing that you’d been in the precinct all night.

Without even looking up from the file in front of you, you reply, “I didn’t, Henry brought me one, and this bread. You gotta try some, it’s his grandma’s recipe-”

Luke’s jaw drops. A gesture you don’t notice, because you’re too busy focusing on banana bread. What you do notice, is the way he scoffs lightly. It makes your head turn.

By the time you look up, Luke’s already standing up. He grabs the coffee off from the table harshly, and without a word, drops the full cup in the trash can before exiting the room.

…

He wasn’t angry.

At least not at you.

You and Luke had a solid relationship. He trusted you and that was all there was to it. Whether it was Henry, or another coworker, or any of your male friends, or whoever- Luke wasn’t worried and you never gave him a reason to be.

But Luke didn’t like the way seeing you with the deputy made him feel. Like at any moment, you could leave him for someone with dirty blonde hair and fair skin and biceps bigger than his. It made him feel vulnerable, like he had something to lose- because he had everything to lose.

…

The team spends six grueling days in Austin before catching the Unsub responsible for kidnapping and murdering 3 women.

Luke had been avoiding you for the vast majority of the week. He’d work late hours, leave the room when you entered, never meet your gaze. It was more for his own sanity than anything. This sudden realization that you could do better, and honestly deserved better than him, was all consuming. It made focusing on the case incredibly difficult.

Luke’s gathering his remaining items from the precinct, the jet waiting for him and the rest of the team, when he hears it.

Luke looks up from the table to see the deputy approaching you. He’s too far away to hear what he’s saying, but not so far so that he doesn’t see the folded note that he passes you.

In an instant, Luke’s entire face falls. He felt like screaming.

On the jet ride home, Luke sits between Emily and Matt, which was unusual. Typically, the two of you spent rides home together.

He was dreading the car ride home from the BAU. That would be the first time the two of you would be alone since the coffee incident. He may have been a little dramatic, without meaning to. Luke didn’t want to be the jealous boyfriend. Jealousy was unfair and manipulative and gross. But the idea of another guy buying you coffee, or making you laugh, or giving you his phone number on a folded up piece of paper, made his stomach churn. The truth was, he didn’t want to lose you.

But Luke didn’t know how to say that to you without coming across as a total lunatic.

He’d have to figure it out before landing at the BAU.

…

You don’t want to cause a scene on the jet. But the minute you and Luke are alone at the BAU office together, you corner him strategically at his desk.

“What the hell?” is all you can manage to blurt out. You’re fuming and on the verge tears, Luke’s silent treatment was just about pushing you to the edge. You’d spent the past week focused more on why Luke was suddenly so mad at you than you on the actual case.

There’s a long pause, Luke refusing to meet your gaze.

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

You’re met by silence.

“You’re being childish. Are you really not gonna talk to me?”

Finally, Luke turns to you, and says slyly, “That deputy gave you his number, right? Why don’t you call him? I’m sure he’d love to talk.”

In an instant, a wave of understanding washes over you.

“Are you- are you jealous of Henry?” you ask, unable to hide the hint of a smirk spreading across your face. The idea of Luke being jealous of a deputy from Austin, Texas seemed absolutely ludacris. It was so far fetched that it seemed perfectly reasonable to cross your arms and laugh at your fuming boyfriend.

He rolls his eyes. “No,” he scoffs.

He knows you don’t believe him.

There’s a brief pause before he sputters, “Maybe.”

The smirk on your face only grows bigger. Luke grabs his bag off from his desk before pushing past you, muttering a quick, “So what?” on his way by.

But you turn around and keep pace with him, looping your arm through his. You’re pleased when he doesn’t pull away.

“Baby,” you coo, a playful tone to your voice, you tug at his arm to stop him from walking any further. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Luke turns his body to face you, but his gaze doesn’t quite meet yours.

“Because jealousy is stupid, and it’s for couples who don’t trust each other, and I trust you.” He pauses and bites his lip before whispering, “You know you could have anyone you wanted.”

You drop the smirk, because you realize Luke was actually bothered by this. You squeeze his hand gently. “What are you talking about?”

“Seeing you with that guy, seeing him gawk over you- it just made me realize that you can do so much better than me,” Luke says quietly, because it’s true.

You’re shaking your head before he even finished his sentence, because the idea of anyone ever being better than Luke was even more ludicrous than him being jealous in the first place.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the note the deputy had given you just hours earlier. Luke watches as you unfold the piece of paper.

Luke quickly sees that it’s not a phone number.

“It’s his grandma’s banana bread recipe,” you explain. “I told him how much you liked banana bread, and that I wanted to make some for you, so he gave it to me..” your voice trails off. “I talked about you a lot actually- but that’s not unusual. I always talk about you a lot.”

You watch as the realization that washes over Luke quickly turns into embarrassment. He fumbles with his words.

“I-I uh.”

But you spare him. “I want you, Luke. And you are exactly what I need, okay?”

Luke blinks as he watches you take a step closer to him. Your arms wrap around his waist, and you pull him so that you’re flush against his body. Luke’s own arms wind around you as he looks down at you, his brown eyes glistening.

“Banana bread, huh?” he muses.

You nod. “Seems like you have quite the competition.”

He smirks, “Man versus yeast.”

You roll your eyes and plead, "Will you just shut up and kiss me?"

Luke leans in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and steady, tasting and feeling every crack and every inch of those lips that you haven’t kissed for days.

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rosella-writes · 3 years ago

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writing tag game

Thank you so much for the tag @noire-pandora, @kittynomsdeplume, @melisusthewee and @emerald-amidst-gold <3

Whoooo boy, here we go.

How many works do you have on AO3?

17, but quite a few are just one-shots. I only have a couple long-fics, mostly because my poor ADHD brain is cruel to me.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

190,052, but if I hadn't orphaned my old (and embarrassing) Skyrim and Sherlock fanfics it'd probably be closer to 300,000.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips - 579

i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted - 56

a fuller feeling (a brighter burst) - 54

Eunoia - 40

i'd wanna be felled by you, held by you (fuel the pyre of your enemies) - 39

(And to be perfectly honest, my most popular fic is by far my worst. I spend so much more time carefully crafting for Eunoia than I do anything else, but the little following it's picked up has made it worth more to me than all the kudos and comments on "honey.")

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! I used to be terrible about it, mostly because the vast majority of comments I once got was hate (I wrote for a weirdly unpopular wlw pairing). Now I make it a point to respond to every single one when I can, even the short ones, to thank them for taking the time. It means so much.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

It was a drabble for the r/dragonage writing thread, actually! The premise was a font in the Black Emporium that would show your OC the outcome of a decision made differently. I wrote Eliana Lavellan from Eunoia discovering what would have happened if she'd fought with Solas in Crestwood until he told her the truth... and its outcome was worse than the timeline where he left her and kept his secret. You can read it here (it's about 1200 words, nice and short).

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My various Solavellan pairings don't get happy endings. Evelyn Lavellan was more of a narrative tool to explore Solas with, so her ending was cut short. Eliana doesn't have her ending yet, but it will be bitter and painful. My happiest ending was for my Bella/Rosalie pairing for Twilight - Bella became a vampire and lived happily ever after with her wife.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, unfortunately! Since my days on tumblr and FFNet, S*perWh*L*ck left a terrible taste in my mouth when it came to crossovers. I'd be open to it one day if I can find fandoms chill enough.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

As I previously mentioned, yes. In my Bella/Rosalie fic, I made it a point for Rosalie to love all the parts of Bella that weren't conventionally beautiful. My Bella is also a dark-skinned black woman, and the intersection of racism, colorism, and misogyny where it concerns attractiveness was something I thought worth including because I didn't see enough of it in fic. I wanted to highlight all the things that don't get enough attention or are actively reviled, like hyperpigmentation, stretch marks, natural hair, soft bellies, areolas and vulvas that aren't perfectly symmetrical or small, pubic hair and armpit hair and little hairs around nipples - things that I love about AFAB people! I got a lot of comments on my smut chapters calling Bella disgusting, or me nasty for choosing to include those traits. I deleted every single one.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

So much. I love exploring pairings or power dynamics that people wouldn't necessarily consider, like a strong female warrior Lavellan domming Solas, or Solas topping Blackwall. I wanted to show a black woman in an interracial relationship with a white woman where she got to be soft and loved gently, where she got to be quiet, bookish, and looked after instead of expected to be the loud, strong stereotype that we pin black women into. I wanted to show the power of masculinity in an elven mage who loves a warrior woman (Solas/Cass), or the nurturing side of domming in a relationship between a pan giant and a bisexual elf (Iron Bull/Solas).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, tbh. I turn up to fandoms a decade late, so usually by the time I get any traction the fic-stealers have done their dirty work and leave me alone.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't! I hope to one day write a fic in Greek for my best friend, though. They deserve to read about Solas in their mother-tongue.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but have done some plotting with aforesaid Greek friend.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Solavellan, absolutely. Any variation, honestly - I've loved m!Solavellan, f!Solavellan, as well as any variation including nonbinary, trans, or other interpretation of the relationship. Solas sees and loves the spirit, and I love the idea that its vessel doesn't matter so much to him. I headcanon him as a he/him agender bisexual, for what it's worth.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I've technically marked i couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted as complete, but it cuts off right before Adamant and was intended to be a full Solavellan story. However, I just didn't care for my rogue f!Lavellan OC very much, and didn't think she matched Solas well. I developed an OC that I enjoyed writing much better and rolled with it. So, I'm sorry Evelyn Lavellan, but your story is frozen with the two of you happy in bed. Solas will never break up with her so long as I don't write that part, right?

What are your writing strengths?

I love dialogue and crafting character voices! Getting a comment that I've managed to portray a favorite character so well that they can hear their voice in their head as they read? Priceless.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Exposition vs description. I want to show instead of tell, but developing the right environment for a scene can be tough for me. It's so much easier to write that the characters are cold and the ground is wet than to wax poetic about dripping leaves and frosty air. But I'm working on it.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'm obsessed with it. I love little bits sprinkled through that make sense with context, and culturally speaking it would feel wrong not to sometimes! I'm also the type of person that's always been obsessed with languages, and instead of becoming fluent in one I've learned a smattering of a whole lot. So any opportunity to sneak in some French, Welsh, German when it makes sense? I'm taking it. And don't even get me started on Elvhen or Qunlat because I will sprinkle that shit like biodegradable glitter.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Okay I'm gonna flout this question and just write my fandoms in order:

Sherlock (circa 2010 - 2014)

Skyrim (2016)

Twilight (obsessed from 2005 - 2010 but didn't write for it until 2019 or 2020 when Midnight Sun released)

Dragon Age (March 2021 and easily the most fanfic I've ever written ever)

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite one to write was probably i'd wanna be felled by you, but my favorite to reread is Eunoia. It's most likely the most honest, least presumptuous thing I've ever written, and it's easily the longest thing I've ever attempted. I'm very proud of it.

As far as tagging goes, I've been very rude lately with it by tagging people late in the day, or tagging folks that I haven't tagged before, and am still refiguring out tumblr etiquette (since I haven't been here since the days of the skeleton war and the Mishapocalypse lmao), so presume if you see this you're tagged to participate. With no expectations nor pressure, though, I'll tag @dreadfutures, @varric-tethras-editor and @blarfkey if they'd like. <3

#whew this one took ages #but it was nice to take a trip down memory lane #it's been a while since I thought about my early days as a fanfic writer #before I got my english degree and thought I knew everything about writing #and now I actually have my degree and feel like I know even less than I did before #anyway #solavellan #solas #fanfic #my fanfic stuff #writing #tag game

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demifiendrsa · 4 years ago

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Microsoft has announced that it has acquired ZeniMax Media, the parent company of Bethesda Softworks, for $7.5 billion.

Bethesda Softworks is the parent company of Bethesda Game Studios, id Software, ZeniMax Online Studios, Arkane Studios, MachineGames, Tango Gameworks, Alpha Dog Games, and Roundhouse Studios, and owns major franchises such as The Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Wolfenstein, DOOM, Dishonored, Prey, Quake, Starfield, and more.

Comments from each party:

Phil Spencer, Head of Xbox

Today is a special day, as we welcome some of the most accomplished studios in the games industry to Xbox. We are thrilled to announce Microsoft has entered into an agreement to acquire ZeniMax Media, parent company of Bethesda Softworks.

As one of the largest, most critically acclaimed, privately held game developers and publishers in the world, Bethesda is an incredibly talented group of 2,300 people worldwide who make up some of the most accomplished creative studios in our industry across Bethesda Softworks, Bethesda Game Studios, id Software, ZeniMax Online Studios, Arkane, MachineGames, Tango Gameworks, Alpha Dog, and Roundhouse Studios. These are the teams responsible for franchises like The Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Wolfenstein, DOOM, Dishonored, Prey, Quake, Starfield, and many more.

Bethesda’s games have always had a special place on Xbox and in the hearts of millions of gamers around the world. Our teams have a close and storied history working together, from the amazing first DOOM, and its id Tech engine, innovating games on PCs to Bethesda bringing their first console game to the original Xbox, the groundbreaking The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. Over the years I’ve had many deep conversations with the creative leaders at Bethesda on the future of gaming and we’ve long shared similar visions for the opportunities for creators and their games to reach more players in more ways.

Just as they took the bold first steps to bring The Elder Scrolls franchise to the original Xbox, Bethesda were early supporters of Xbox Game Pass, bringing their games to new audiences across devices and have been actively investing in new gaming technology like cloud streaming of games. We will be adding Bethesda’s iconic franchises to Xbox Game Pass for console and PC. One of the things that has me most excited is seeing the roadmap with Bethesda’s future games, some announced and many unannounced, to Xbox console and PC including Starfield, the highly anticipated, new space epic currently in development by Bethesda Game Studios.

Like us, Bethesda are passionate believers in building a diverse array of creative experiences, in exploring new game franchises, and in telling stories in bold ways. All of their great work will of course continue and grow and we look forward to empowering them with the resources and support of Microsoft to scale their creative visions to more players in new ways for you.

All of our work, and the foundation of our relationship with you, starts with a commitment to deliver a breadth of amazing games to discover and play on Xbox. Over the last few weeks, we’ve been excited to share more detail on important elements of a plan we’ve been building towards for years. A plan that is the fulfilment of a promise, to you the Xbox player, to deliver the most performant, immersive and compatible next-generation gaming experiences, and the freedom to play blockbuster games with your friends, anytime, anywhere. Today is a landmark step in our journey together and I’m incredibly energized by what this step means for Xbox.

Please join me in welcoming all of our friends at Bethesda to Team Xbox.

Pete Hines, Bethesda Softworks

Today we announced we’re joining the Microsoft family.

And if you haven’t had a chance to read what Phil Spencer and Todd Howard shared in their posts this morning, be sure to check them both out. When you work at a place as long as I’ve worked at Bethesda—just a month short of 21 years—you see some things. Chief amongst them is change. When I started, Bethesda was not much more than a handful of people. The team working on Morrowind fit in a couple of offices, and there were probably six or seven of us spread across everything else.

Bethesda Softworks, our parent company ZeniMax Media, and our many internal studios, now employ thousands of talented people working in publishing offices and development studios around the world. We’ve gone from one internal studio to many; from a focus on single-player fantasy RPGS to developing massive MMOs, first person shooters, and everything in between. The world, our industry, and our company has changed a lot in the 34 years since Bethesda Softworks was first founded. Today, it changed again. And I know that brings up questions.

But the key point is we’re still Bethesda. We’re still working on the same games we were yesterday, made by the same studios we’ve worked with for years, and those games will be published by us.

So why the change? Because it allows us to make even better games going forward. Microsoft is an incredible partner and offers access to resources that will make us a better publisher and developer. We believe that means better games for you to play. Simply put—we believe that change is an important part of getting better. We believe in pushing ourselves to be better. To innovate. To grow.

And, we have a long history of working with Microsoft. Our companies share many of the same basic principles. We believe in a culture that values passion, quality, collaboration, and innovation. When I think back to the first time we decided to shift from being a PC-only developer and make Morrowind for the original Xbox, it was a move that countless people said would never work…nobody on consoles wanted a game that big and complex. But Microsoft believed in us and so did you. And now RPGs of all shapes and sizes are hugely successful on consoles.

Yes, it’s a big change for us, but after taking a minute to absorb the magnitude of this acquisition, we’re going to continue doing what we know and love: making great games. We’re going to keep trying new things. We’re going to take the same passion we’ve poured into what we do, and the passion that our community brings to the things we make, and do even better.

And soon the conversation will move on from this deal to talking about our games again. And I can get back to answering the questions that get us all excited. Tell me more about Deathloop. When can I see more Ghostwire? What’s coming in Q4 for The Elder Scrolls Online? I want to see more of the DOOM Eternal DLC. WHEN THE HELL WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT STARFIELD? I’m excited for those conversations and look forward to talking to you about all of that—and much, much more—-in the weeks, months, and years ahead.

I believe in the people I work with. I believe in the company we have created together. I believe in the communities that have formed around the games we make. And I believe today’s announcement is just the next in a long line of changes in our history that will lead to bigger and better games for all of us.

Pete Hines SVP, Global Marketing and Communications

Todd Howard, Bethesda Softworks

I have been incredibly blessed to spend my entire career at, and help build, one of the best places to make games in the world—Bethesda.

And I’ve had the joy of doing it with some of the most talented, humble, and passionate people there are. They are part of my family, and my good friends. I have also had the pleasure of working with, and partnering with, many of the best gaming and tech companies in the world. But our longest, and closest partner during my career, has been Microsoft.

Today we join them, and I wanted to share some personal thoughts on what it means and our shared vision.

The trajectory of Xbox, and the trajectory of Bethesda, in many ways have gone hand in hand.

From our beginning, we had primarily been a PC developer. In 1999, two things happened. One, Bethesda became part of a brand-new startup—ZeniMax Media. And Microsoft started development of their first video game console—the Xbox. I can remember my first trip to Redmond to discuss the new system and bringing our next game, Morrowind, to the Xbox.

I was dubious Xbox Morrowind would be worth the time, somewhat on a technical level, but more so from taking a hardcore RPG and moving it from a PC desktop experience to a controller-and-sofa experience. If we made it work, would people want it?

Microsoft and their new Xbox crew had a view, that I came to share completely. Shouldn’t we allow anyone to have this experience? Why does it matter where the screen is or what the controller is? There are many people without the same access, and we can bring it to them.

Morrowind would go on to become one of the best-selling Xbox games of all time, behind Halo, another PC style game some said wouldn’t work. Its success paved the way for the growth of our company, and proved the point – people wanted this experience, regardless of device.

Microsoft quickly let us in on their next system, the Xbox 360. More than a PC port, our aim with our next game, Oblivion, was to usher in the next generation of gaming. With each game, from Fallout 3 to Skyrim, our studio and company grew, adding brilliant and like-minded studios across the globe. All of us sharing in the belief that expanding the reach of gaming was fundamental, whether it was on a pc, console, your phone, or the cloud.

With each new console cycle, we evolved together. From bringing mods to consoles with Fallout 4, now over a billion downloads, to the latest technologies fueling Xbox Series X/S. These new systems are optimized for the vast worlds we love to create, with generational leaps not just in graphics, but CPU and data streaming as well. It’s led to our largest engine overhaul since Oblivion, with all new technologies powering our first new IP in 25 years, Starfield, as well as The Elder Scrolls VI.

Like our original partnership, this one is about more than one system or one screen. We share a deep belief in the fundamental power of games, in their ability to connect, empower, and bring joy. And a belief we should bring that to everyone—regardless of who you are, where you live, or what you play on. Regardless of the screen size, the controller, or your ability to even use one.

We can’t think of a better group of people to do that with than those at Xbox. We have friendships that go back to those original days. From Phil to his senior leaders to developer support, they don’t just talk about putting players first, they passionately live it.

At Bethesda, we’ve been lucky enough to create games we love, and have an audience who loves them as much as we do. I have personally been humbled by the many industry honors I have received, as they belong to the entire studio. But one has always stood out to me for a special reason. When I received the Lifetime Achievement Award at GDC, I joked in my acceptance “I wonder how many achievement points this one is worth?” At the end of the ceremony, some good friends from Microsoft congratulated me and said they’d find out. A few months later I was given a code to a game they had created, named after me and locked to my account. When ran, it unlocks a single achievement – “Lifetime – 1000pts.” It still sits in my list when I check, and I smile every time.

It has been a lifetime. But there’s more to come and achievements to unlock together. We hope you join us.

All the best, Todd

Todd Howard Bethesda Game Studios

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shyrose57 · 4 years ago

Note

2nd part than.

8: (This ones longgggg) Their rooms all have the same beige (like brown mushroom color) walls and floors. As their not allowed to change that. But Watson has some bookshelves in his room along with a old adventurer cape that goes in front of his body and hangs to his ankles (Item-Ya Adventurer Cape is a perfect example. Idk the actual name for the kind of cape it is), some display cases featuring his strongest bows and arrows, along with a sword and axe, along with pictures of the group toghere and pictures from his travels on the walls, he has a single lone desk that is only used when designing new bows or arrows. Ran also has bookshelves, but his is bigger and takes up a whole wall, he also as a winter cape with fur on its shoulders hung up (he lived in a snow biome for a little while and made the cape himself), along with a single weapon case that features a lone damaged neitherite sword, he also has chests stacked along a wall filled with random stuff that he sometimes gives as gifts or uses to throw at people. Jackie has a few paintings and posters in his room, along with the only carpet in any bedroom (that he totally didnt steal from Grievous), a panting easel, he has a single display case in his room that displays the sword Porkius gave him for winning, theres also pictures of the group toghere and a small chest next to his bed filled with things that belongs to someone in the group. Grievous has a small bookshelf (one book is a naming book Watson jokingly gave him), a chest filled to the brim with blankets and pillows (cause for him comfort is a necessity), he also has a desk that he tends to fall asleep at when doing literally anything on it. Everyone also has a good sized wardrobe somewhere in their room that is filled with different outfits and w statue stands with either iron armour or empty. There is also a four-way-bunkbed in the living room/area, they typically use it when someone is having or had a very bad day and needs comfort, or when Jackie's separation anxiety is bad and needs to sleep with everyone nearby.

Ran loves reading and sometimes gets mad when someone intrupts his reading. Watson loves designing new bows and arrows and just designing weapons in general (Grievous does too and helps him sometimes). Jackie likes to paint and has a interest in adventuring one day. They are well known but only in Subbin and surrounding cities. Though word does travel about them at times which can bring people to Subbin. They have 2 titles actually! First is used in typical matches, while the second is used in more formal or serious matches (like those for general). Ran: The Enderman, Partikel Tari (Dancing Particles, referencing how when he fights when serious its like he's dancing as he teleports around the field). Watson: The Archer, Multi (Referencing how he has more experience than anyone in the use of all kinds of weapons and can quickly adjust to situations). Grievous: Multi-Named, Unpredictable (referring to how he is by far the most unpredictable person in serious battles). Jackie: The Child, Diremehake (Underestimated, referring to how he gets underestimated a lot during any battle). They get recognized quite often and get called their stage names, when they dont want to deal with people recognizing them they often either yell at them to go away or just run away.

9: They do all of the above! It depends on the match up (Jackie and Watson stay out of eachothers way mostly, Ran and Grievous make it one on one, and Ran and Jackie take them out quick). Oh the first time Ran threw Jackie was hailours. You could hear Watson screaming from the stands in fear and Jackie just head-butted the guy in the stomach. Then when Jackie recovered he just yelled for Ran to throw him again, and once again you could hear Watson screaming no and threats at them from the stands. Ran agreed and threw Jackie at the last person, who he just bear hugged as he hit and held them down. Then after the battle Watson smacked the two and chastised them.

10: At first he drops stuff and trips over his feet on a regular basis. But after about 3 weeks he fully regains his balance, and is able to finally walk without tripping at the start. While the attempts at bonding do work to get Ranbob and Cletus closer the two never get as close as the rest. Neither can really name what's stopping them from getting closer though. For the first week people need to constantly remind Ranbob to do all of those things. As he thinks the constant hunger, thirst, and tiredness is all normal when its not and their trying to get him to understand that. And while he eventually starts to do it himself, theres still some nights where he doesnt eat or drink or sleep. They just leave the two in the house, but later they do start to expand the house a bit to fit the new addition. He does not get his own place up, he just gives up after some time. He doesn't fall asleep out there to often thankfully, but since the house keeps falling on him he does get cuts and bruises quite often. He gets stuck in a rain storm only 2 times which isn't bad, but he does get semi-bad burns from them sadly that Benjamin has to sit him down for and have Charles distract him for long enough to wrap his wounds properly. And it only took Benjamin like 4 weeks before he finally got fed up and forced him inside and had him stay with them. He has dealt with a storm before when he was young! But it was when he was about 12 so its been a long while.

11: He spends all of his free time glaring at them. And for the first few days whenever he sees someone from his group hanging around his brothers, he'll go over and pick em up and just carry them away. The fishermen worry for a bit that Ran may hurt them, but Watson assured them that Ran knows the two groups like eachother and wouldn't hurt them incase that could hurt his families feelings.

12: Ranbob is extremely happy about potentially getting new members of his family! And eagerly tries to talk with them. But Ran is far less happy and actively avoids them (and drags his family away at times).

13: At the start they have no idea where their going. But when Grievous brings up about Rans damaged sword they decide to find a nether portal so they can find whats needed to repair his sword! And Watson decides on the way he can show them all the different biomes in the world, which Jackie is extremely excited for.

14: If the fishermen get separated from Ranbob for too long he actively goes and searches for them. And refuses to stop until he finds them. When upset Ran loves to pick up members of his Haunting, though he doesnt do them often as he knows his Haunting doesn't like it when he does it to often. He and Ranbob also pick up blocks though as it's a comfort action and soothes them. Cuddles piles do happen! They happen more for Ranbob to comfort him after a nightmare or just a bad day, or when he basically relapses and wants to go back to Dream. But cuddle piles are more rare in Rans group, as cuddle piles only happen when anyone is doing really badly mentally or physically and just need comfort, or when they all just need some comfort. But their much more sentimental and have more meaning than Ranbobs groups.

15: Oh definitely. I forget if I included it when I first introduced my Au. But soon after Ran escaped Mizu, he was hunted for his pearl and respawn ability. Though he killed the people hunting him. Every year he was out of Mizu and every year before he entered Subbin he was hunted by multiple groups. He's become legend just for avoiding so many groups and killing a vast majority of them. He's known as the "Green Eyed Enderman." and is a top goal amongst hunters. There are some times Ran got jumped in Subbin for being a hybrid but he quickly defeated them.

Karl has played his role in this! Though maybe I could make it so he comes in later on during a really difficult part between the brothers, and helps out. Using his own experiences in the SMP and seeing what ruined relationships like brothers does to someone and others, to make sure their relationship doesn't stay so broken and hurt so many people. Maybe at the end I'll have them go back and face Dream so Ranbob (and even Ran slightly, with how Dreams presence affected him) can finally be completely free. As of rn no one has a pet. But that question made me really want to give someone a raven and idk who. I want to have bits of the other Tales in it! Im not quite sure how yet but I want this to be a mostly Tales ONLY au (no main SMP stuff unless needed or necessary) as the Tales don't have enough love. He does write down the experience he had with the Dream Experience and writes down very important things, but other than that he leaves it behind.

Im really happy to hear that you like my au. I love world and story building a lot and can't control how much I write sometimes, again im sorry this is so long and I'll do my best to not make anything this long ever again. Sorry if this bothered you

8: Sounds pretty interesting, overall. Was Watson-as his cape suggest-perhaps an adventurer? And he designs his own bows and arrows? Very cool. What kind of things does he come up with? Ran also sounds like he’s traveled a bit. He knows how to sew? Has he ever made anything for anyone else? Where did he get his sword? Jackie’s got a carpet? Very nice, he deserves it. And a painting easel? How good is he at painting? Or is it more of something he’s just trying? Grievous sounds like he could build a very good pillow fort, and honestly, good for him. How often do they camp out in the bunk bed room?

Ran not liking being interrupted is understandable. Does he ever read to anyone, or is it more some alone time for him? Grievous and Watson must design some terrifying weapons. Where is Jackie looking at adventuring to? Anywhere specific, or just around? And what language(s) is Ran and Jackie’s secondary titles in? Latin?

9: Very smart of them, means it’ll be harder to pick up a pattern. And hearing about Ran tossing Jackie-I’m laughing. I’m not going to lie, kind of assumed it was planned pre-match, but hearing that they just decided to throw him? Watson’s reaction? Just...hilarious. Was Jackie even prepared for it, or did Ran just toss them without warning? Honestly, it kind of sounds like people might come to the Pit for the comedy just as much for the fighting. If this was the kind of thing that went down, I’d probably come to watch.

10: Oh no, Ranbob! At least he’s getting better. So Cletus and Ranbob never quite click, huh? Well, that’s alright. Sometimes people just don’t. Doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other! Ranbob thinking it’s normal, oh god. Does he ever say something along those lines, or get confused why the others are so worried about it? If so, how do the fishermen react to that question, and how does Ranbob react to the answer. As for the house, well. He can say he tried if nothing else-and hey, funny story to share with the gladiators later on. It’s good that he wasn’t caught in too many storms, less that he was caught in some at all. I’m sure that was a big help in convincing Benjamin to finally just put his foot down, which, honestly good for him. You go, Benjamin!

11: Ran, bud, chill. I like how you said his free time though-my first thought was that he immediately finished a book and went over to glare at them. Probably not true, but a hilarious mental image. Very glad Watson has reassured the fishermen-how did Ranbob react to that worry of theirs?

12: Ran’s actions are pretty understandable, but still a bit sad. How does Ranbob feel about them? Is he resigned? Determined? Upset?

13: Adventure! Into possibly dangerous places! How fun! Can’t wait to see where it goes. What do they see? What’s the first stop? How long are they heading off?

14: He won’t stop? Like, potentially will work himself into the ground won’t stop? Ran just picks up his members like blocks. And, oh boy. Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream? That’s just. Oof. Very much oof. How do the fishermen deal with that, and how do they feel about it?

15: Ran sounds like he’s had a less than enjoyable time out there. Do these hunters ever go after them once they leave Subbin? Do they target Ranbob? I mean, he’s another Endermen hybrid, and one who definitely isn’t as skilled as Ran, or as used to them. He’d be a much easier target.

So Karl’s gonna come in towards the end. Nice. Ran was also affected by Dream? How so? Obviously less than his brother, but did he ever notice? Did Ranbob? Sounds like it’d be a good final showdown, over all.

As for that pet raven, may I offer some suggestions? You could give one to Jackie and Grievous, so it can help them cause havoc, or maybe one to Benjamin, so it can help him keep an eye on his dorks. Maybe even Cletus, to help snag things, and mess with people, or Isaac, maybe to help find things. Even Watson, or one of the brothers, to help keep watch over their groups. Really, you could give any of these guys a raven. Depending on said bird’s personality, it could fit anywhere. Just depends on what you want to do with it.

I completely agree with you, we need more Tales AUs. Ranbob and Ran did come from what was basically a city of historians, perhaps you could use that to tie in the other Tales? Or even have them across the old ruins of areas on their adventure. Even chunk in more time travel, via Karl or otherwise, if you want to toss in more characters.

Ranbob pretty much starts over then. Good for him. How does Ran feel about that? Actually, who was Ran’s idol, and his general life on Mizu, before the Dream incident?

Other questions:

One thing I’d like to know is how the groups react to each other’s experiences and general life styles. Like for one, Ranbob and the fishermen generally seem more physically affectionate with each other, while Ran and the gladiators seem fairly less so, but no less close.

For another, the fishermen probably still remind Ranbob to eat or sleep, which would probably seem a bit confusing for the gladiators. How much do they know about both sides? Obviously enough for them to want to help get the brothers back together, but like.

How much do the gladiators believe Ranbob’s side. Are they wary, or skeptical, or do they believe it completely, and if so, why?

How long was Ran left running, evading hunters, and how has that affected him? How many times do both brothers say something concerning, and how do they react to what the other says?

You’ve said Ranbob occasionally relapses and wants to return to Dream. Does this happen on the trip? And if so, how do the gladiators react to such a thing-depending on how much they know about the whole thing, I can imagine mixed reactions. How does Ran react?

How do both groups react to the new endermen hybrids? They seem to have dealt with different instincts before now, so seeing Ranbob trail the fishermen and Ran just pick up the gladiators must be a bit strange.

What can Ranbob keep down? Not only was Dream in control, and not particularly careful with his body, but supplies were probably also somewhat limited when he did eat. So how has that affected him?

Are there any nicknames within in the groups? How do the gladiators react to the schedule change, considering they had set times for so much before? How do the fishermen react to the new areas? What habits are/become shared, and what habits are restricted to one group.

In general, just...how the fishermen and the gladiators differ in lifestyles, basically.

For another, in one of the earlier post, you mentioned both Isaac and Cletus wanted to return to Mizu. Isaac kind of gives me a historian vibe himself, or some sort of archaeologists. Just a kind of person who wants to learn about history-perhaps something to do with the fact that he was played by Karl, and the whole time traveler thing.

But anyway, what exactly did those two want to do down there? Explore, learn, steal?

And how would you say everyone’s personalities are like? Will you be introducing anymore characters, Tales or otherwise. It’d be interesting to see a Pit version of Tommy, or Puffy, or such.

How does Ran react when he finally accepts the truth, and what exactly pushes him to that?

Hope this isn’t too many questions. I’m pretty invested, not gonna lie.

And seriously, I don’t mind the length. Long or short, I’m really just happy to hear more about your AU, and I look forward to more.

#dream smp #Brothers AU #dream smp au #ranbob #tales from the smp #ran #jackie #watson #grievous #cletus #isaac #benjamin #karl jacobs

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novantinuum · 4 years ago

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (No TW this chapter, but keep in mind the grander story involves major character injury)

Words: 6.7K~

Summary: The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Chapter Summary: Aftermath.

This is officially the longest complete SU fic I’ve finished. I’m so proud ;w;

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

_____

Chapter 4: The Remembrance

His mind is shrouded by darkness for long enough that in the split instant the curtains finally part, for just a momentary shard of infinity, the mere idea of any world beyond the pitch-black he’s become so accustomed to seems like a farce.

Resultantly, his journey to consciousness is about as labored and exhausting as a backpacking trip across the Great North in the dead of winter.

He’s greeted by flashes of white, first— intermittent, dim. They splash across his inky sky in unreliable patterns, little bursts of static gearing up to pull him out of this all-consuming nothingness and back to reality. Next, a heartbeat. Steady and sure, such a relief to experience that his throat can’t help but constrict in a wave of all-encompassing emotion. (Why is he so relieved to feel something this normal?) Lying somewhere intangibly beyond his awareness, he can hear... water? Waves, he immediately corrects himself. The aching familiarity of waves crashing upon the shore, a sound he’s shared his front yard with for almost his whole life. Elsewhere, the faint scent of herbs and simmering broth delicately pulls on his consciousness, burning through tangled threads of disorientation and confusion and beckoning him awake.

Steven’s eyelids flutter open, thin lines of light streaming through the gaps between his eyelashes.

The moment he does however, the stark actuality of his situation slams into him with a vengeance. His head throbs as memories begin to re-establish themselves like individual puzzle pieces locking into place.

I was— Dad, and Amethyst... the fountain... empty, and then Pearl had to....

His heart’s pace snaps into overdrive in seconds. Thrashing under his blankets, he manages to kick his arms and torso free so he can rush to sit up. Dizziness assails him as he yanks up the bottom of his pajamas and splays his hand across the smooth, warm surface of that diamond at his core, feeling for cracks, for chips, for—

Huh. Imagine that.

Steven inhales deep as he attempts to balance out the pace of his breath, blood still pounding in his ears as he delicately traces a shaking index finger around the edge of the central pentagonal facet of his gem, entirely unblemished and whole. There’s no sign of damage, no thin stress fractures left behind. No evidence that it was ever cracked at all, really. For an excruciatingly lengthy moment his brow creases inwards in confusion as he wonders if all this agony was nothing but a stress-induced nightmare. But then again...

He groans, pressing his fingers to one of his throbbing temples as the ambient pain hits him.

Oh stars, everything aches. His head, his limbs, his spine, every square inch of his body feels like he’s been pressed through a meat grinder and ruthlessly spat out on the other side. If that’s not proof that what happened on his mission with Amethyst was real, then he doesn’t know what is. Drowsily, he flops back against his pillow and squeezes his eyelids shut, stubbornly yearning for the comfort and familiarity of sleep-induced unconsciousness. Maybe, just maybe... he can sleep these aches away.

Time passes far too unreliably as he’s laying motionless there, struggling against a hyperactive flood of thoughts to return to his earlier state of rest. Has he been awake for a minute? Half an hour? He has no idea. The only concrete thing he can glean is that he definitely has a headache right now. Maybe even a migraine. He’s still not sure what the difference between those is supposed to be. Is it a ‘squares are rectangles, but rectangles aren’t squares’ sort of scenario? Or are they synonyms? Hmm. Maybe he should ask Dad, he’d probably know. In fact, where is Dad? And how’d he end up in bed in his pajamas, anyways?

He’s honestly relieved when he hears the unmistakable sound of Pearl’s light, precise footsteps climbing the stairs to his room, if only that it gives him a solid excuse to face reality and stop deluding himself with the tragic, unobtainable lie that is peaceful slumber. He lets his eyes flutter open again.

“Hi, Pearl,” he mumbles when she reaches the top step.

She’s carrying a small dinner tray with a steaming bowl of something delicious smelling (the broth he recognized earlier?) and a glass of water perched atop. Meeting his half-alert gaze, her expression lights up with a glow of pleasant surprise.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” she says, a great deal of the stress locked in her shoulders melting away as she crosses the room towards his bedside. “I was just about to wake you myself, if you weren’t already.”

Rubbing away the exhaustion crusted at the corners of his eyes with the joint at the base of his thumb, he watches as Pearl carefully places the tray on the nightstand at his right. With a groan, he bows upwards under his covers, the vertebrae in his back popping and sighing all the while as he stretches. Goodness, he’s not sure his spine has ever felt so stiff and tight. Remind him to never accidentally get hurled against a tree in combat again.

“How... how long was I out?” he asks then, the workaholic part of him already fearing her answer.

Pearl glances towards the ceiling, her brow creasing as she makes the calculation in her head.

“Hmm, I think... around seven hours?“

“What??” he cries, shooting upright in bed with the speed of a spring trap. “Seven hours?! That’s like, the whole day! I had plans!”

She frowns pensively, gesturing widely with her hands as she replies. “Steven, you were cracked and needed time to recover. A hit like that is bound to take a serious toll on any body, hard-light or not.”

His features morphing into a scowl, he slouches back against the wall. That’s a fair point, how disruptive cracks can be for full-Gems as well. It’s not just a matter of Pearl babying him. Even though they healed Amethyst’s fracture fairly quickly, years back, it still took her a few days of rest before she rose to the top of her game again. And as much as he’d love to deny it, right now his whole body honestly feels like it’s been hit head on by a truck at sixty miles per hour. It’s a dull but constant brand of pain he can’t claim he’s ever dealt with before all this mess. That month he shot up almost a foot in height back when he was 14 came close, but even that period of ache was more subtle than this.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says with a heavy sigh, threading his fingers together in his lap.

“Anyways,” she says gently, the reminder of her presence cutting through some of the layers of his pain-induced melancholy, “it’s 5:38 now, just in time for dinner! And I took the liberty of cooking a batch of your favorite soup.”

Unable to help himself, his inner child gasps in sheer joy. He sits up again, slamming his palms to his cheeks as he gushes with excitement. “Chicken and vegetable soup with the tiny star noodles??”

Any lingering crankiness about the percentage of the day wasted dissipates into a fine mist as Pearl picks the tray off the nightstand and passes it into his lap, confirming the identity of his homemade dinner. As he begins to eat— carefully, taking small spoonfuls at first to ensure that his stomach can handle it— his guardian sits at the edge of his bed and provides him updates on the rest of the family’s whereabouts. Apparently Garnet’s still halfway across the galaxy, but should be returning home tomorrow the moment she’s through with her mission. She sends her love, Pearl says. She also texted Connie to let her know what happened, and his friend plans to come over as soon as she can in the morning to spend time with him as he recovers. Meanwhile, Greg left a few minutes before he woke up to hit the store. He’s picking up some new food for the both of them, and intends to sleep downstairs on the couch the next few nights to keep tabs on him.

“He’s been really worried about you,” she admits, reaching out for his hand as if she too frets he might suddenly fade into the ether if she takes her eyes off him for one moment. “Before I told him to step out of the house for some mental rejuvenation, he never left your side.”

Steven responds to her tactile affection with a soft squeeze for her benefit, but quickly lets go to continue eating his soup.

“Well,” he says through a fresh spoonful of food, “‘m fine now, so...” Pause to swallow, the bump of his larynx bobbing in his throat. “So there’s no need to worry anymore.”

“Oh, if only it were that easy,” she comments, a melancholy smile framing her face.

With a sigh, she stands to her feet, smoothing out the edge of the covers where she once sat. Watching this small act, he suddenly wonders if her vast history with deeply troubling experiences like what she had to witness this morning are why she’s so emotionally drawn to tasks such as tidying and repairing; after all, these do allow her space to exert a small degree of control over areas of her life she might otherwise harbor concern or anxiety towards. Huh. He presses his lips into a tight line as he willfully contemplates this concept. Considering his earlier disappointment about how much daylight he’s wasted, (so many business and socialization meetings he’s missing in town today!), perhaps he inherited a portion of his own workaholic tendencies from emulating her throughout his childhood. He dares not follow this rabbit any further, however... dares not ask what he’s distracting himself from.

Another time, Universe.

Brimming with a renewed sense of purpose, Pearl crosses towards the narrow patio outside the open slider door, her features returning to their neutral, observant state.

“In any case,” she continues as she rests her palm flat against the glass, “please do enjoy the rest of your meal! I’m going to fetch Amethyst from the observatory. She’s been, um... how to say... on Diamond pacifying duty these past few hours, and I’m sure she‘s desperate for a break.”

He offers a sharp grimace in response to this sentiment, knowing from almost two years of firsthand experience that patiently keeping watch over those Gem monarchs is no easy task. “Youch, my condolences. Feel free to send her in, I’d love to see her.”

Pearl nods in confirmation, and then slips out the doorway towards the observatory’s ramp.

He enjoys what little is left of his soup as he waits. Thankfully, his system shows no signs of unrest, which allows him to finish the whole bowl. Good thing, too. He unfortunately recalls losing his breakfast earlier this morning amidst the blunt force of that spiked tail to his stomach, which means he’s had little to no food in him all day. Now, he’s no medical expert, (Connie would likely know the answer thanks to her mom, though), but surely that can’t be good for recovery.

Amidst his better wishes, his thoughts turn to all the social meetings and appointments he’d planned for today. He can’t imagine Pearl knew his itinerary well enough to contact each and every person he’d unintentionally blown off, so that means from all of their perspectives they waited and waited and he simply... never showed up. Like Mayor Nanefua. He was supposed to discuss logistics about Little Homeschool’s eventual opening with her at town hall immediately after the corrupted Gem mission. Peridot. He agreed to meet with her at one of the ancient drop ship sites to assist in de-arming it for safety purposes. Lars. Before all this happened, he was genuinely looking forward to hanging out with Lars and the rest of his Gem gang this afternoon. And because he was reckless and got himself cracked on what should’ve been the most straightforward mission of all time, he let them all down. He groans, slumping backwards until his head clunks against the wall. Ughhh. Stupid, stupid Steven. Now, where on earth’s his phone? He should probably start to clear up this mess.

Steven places his empty bowl on the tray on his nightstand, and begins dutifully searching the tabletop. Before his search can bear any fruit, however, Amethyst bursts into the room, toting one of the handheld diamond communication lines they store in the observatory. (Blessedly, this one comes without self-destruct functionality. Times have sure changed since the daring days when Peridot emphatically called Yellow Diamond a clod.)

“Hey, little man!” she chimes when they meet each other’s glance, her relieved smile admittedly rather infectious. “It’s great to see ya’ up and at ‘em again.”

He offers a bashful laugh, twirling his finger around a short curl at the nape of his neck. “Y-yeah, I’m—“

“Yo, what’s this here, though?” she interjects, bee-lining to his nightstand to stick her nose in his dinner tray. Her face falls the moment she sees inside the bowl, which he’s dutifully scraped empty. “Dude, come on, you didn’t leave any for me?”

“What? Nooo,” he says in mock protest, his voice wavering in laughter. “I already ate it.”

Amethysts reaches forward and gives him a solid noogie, ruffling his hair until its ends are all mussed. Even though his head still hurts he can’t help but giggle, playfully batting her arms away. Hah, typical quartz sibling affection. Gotta love it.

“Nah, I’m just goofin’!” she grins. “You’ve lost enough food today on the forest floor, so I wouldn’t be stealin’ any even if I could.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” he comments with an eye roll, lips pursed as he tries not to muse too hard about the uncomfortable burning sensation associated with that abhorrent experience, least he vomit all over again.

Meanwhile, Amethyst’s high spirits finally hit their crest and begin to break like the distant din of white water waves offshore as she nervously tussles with the crystal octahedron clasped in her palm.

“But, ah... ignoring all that, Blue D said she wanted to talk to you?”

She presses the diamond line into his possession with fettered urgency, the posture of her hands vocalizing an unspoken, underlying message of “oh stars, I’m going insane babysitting these ancient Gem monarchs, please take this from me NOW.” Or at least, that’s what he gleans from it. To be fair, his months of near-constant interaction with them may make him a little biased on the subject.

“Probably best not to keep her waiting. We can catch up later,” she says, giving his fingers a quick squeeze before pulling away.

And with that she hurtles down the stairs into the main living area, ditching him within this empty room with the equivalent of an intergalactic phone that dials direct to who he can only describe as his honorary Gem grandparents. Sure, so maybe most Gems don’t have “children” in the same manner humans do, and maybe the Diamonds themselves have no clear understanding of the classification of human familial relationships, (despite their somewhat touching attempts at learning a few details about Earth culture for his sake), but the quasi-parental role they played in his mother’s life is undeniable from his perspective. So is their “out-of-touch” nature, a common stereotype he sees played up for drama with fictional grandparents on TV shows all the time. He’s not sure how he feels yet that this stereotype rings so true with his own.

Regardless, if Blue wants to talk, then there’s no time like the present. As much as he dreads it, this conversation is bound to happen eventually, of course— and after all their concern, the diamonds more than deserve an update on his well-being. Steven swallows hard, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the crystal as he summons the courage to dial, desperately attempting to not let the sour notes of their last interaction tint the underlying sentiment of this one before it can even begin.

Eventually, he sucks in a deep breath and activates the communicator. The octahedron glows a soft blue, and after a few seconds’ time during which the signal is crossing to the far edge of the galaxy, projects a view screen above its upper point.

The image is fuzzy at first, but sharpens fast once Blue connects from her end. She immediately smiles as she looks upon him, elated emotion running so deep within her that for once, it even manages to reach her eyes.

“Steven! I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” she begins in full earnesty, clasping her hands together in front of her gem.

He doesn’t respond at first, finding himself too distracted by the scenery, and by the radical juxtaposition of Blue’s current demeanor to her behavior last night. Given the glimpse of White’s empty throne behind her shoulder, he’s pretty sure she’s sitting alone in the ballroom, the sight of which can’t help but stir up unwanted memories of the brief argument they had right before he rushed off to visit home, b-because... oh stars, he was right there, standing right in her presence when she reflexively forced her tears on him.

She wanted to throw him a massive planet-wide ball honoring his sixteenth birthday, wanted to organize a whole coalition of Gems to set up the venues, the entertainment, the food, everything— and when he finally managed to squeeze a word in edgewise between all her unfettered excitement to inform her that he wished to spend his birthday celebrating with his family on Earth instead, she was inconsolable. Crying. Raising her voice. Blaming him of running away from her just like Pink did all those years ago. In the heat of the moment he believed he was simply standing up for himself and his preferences, but fast forward to the present and he can’t help but question the etiquette of his own response more and more as the cruel minutes tick onward. Did he do the right thing, or did he only cause her undue emotional harm? Will Blue Diamond accept his stance moving forward, or will she press the topic again? (After all, he knows her desire to tether him to Homeworld for his birthday is merely a symptom of her greater longing for him to live in the palace with them permanently.) And if she does, is he even allowed to express his opinions when he’s outright walking a tightrope every day he’s in the public eye, single-handedly balancing Gemkind’s delicate political situation in both hands as he slowly but surely advances towards the light on the other side? He must be careful. One wrong move, and everything he’s been working towards for the past year could topple, could cause a disastrous vacuum.

No matter the personal cost, isn’t it his duty as savior of the galaxy to ensure that doesn’t happen?

Gems are depending on him.

And as much as he wants to be selfish and dig his heels into the ground to ensure his own comfort for once in his life, he’s not sure that’s even an option anymore.

Steven grips onto the edge of his bedspread with his free hand, clamping his fingers in tight, reveling in the sensation of skin shifting against downy fabric. It’s just enough to tether him back to the present. To ensure he doesn’t lose himself in the riptides of bitter memory. But by the time his scattered awareness clues in on the fact that he’s probably remained silent for an overly awkward period of time, it’s much too late, and in due consequence, he mentally returns to the scene to find that Blue has kept on talking with or without his conscious attention.

Hah. Serves him right, honestly.

“—was just explaining the details of the disastrous mission you embarked on today,” she says, making small gestures in embellishment of her soft-spoken words, “when your Pearl entered to announce you were awake. I’ll let the others know as soon as I can.”

He swallows, his throat hopelessly dry, as dry as the fine granules of sand scattered across the upper shore on an intensely hot summer’s day.

“I, um—“ he manages, voice wavering. (And quite honestly, feeling stupid for it, in her presence. How many months has he spent perfecting his technique for confidently speaking with the diamonds, again?) He adjusts his hold on the octahedral crystal as he vies to regain some sense of inner balance for the rest of this conversation. “So Yellow and White know too, then?”

Blue leans upon one of the armrests of her throne, releasing a weary sigh. It’s only then that he begins to take note of the residual anxiety blanketed across her form— the almost bruise-like shadows under her eyes appearing deeper than usual, her normally flawless hair now frizzy and unkempt— and if he’s honest, he struggles to understand how he truly feels, knowing that the news of his injury could affect her in such a soul-striking manner. (He often wonders if it’s fair of him, interacting with them in such a detached business-like fashion when, despite their intermittent shortcomings and confusions, they’ve offered him nothing but love and adoration in return since the beginning of era 3.)

“Oh, they were the first to know. Yellow answered the initial call, and White, she was hosting a court session with some of the fusion Gems just next door. I—“ She presses the pad of her thumb to the center facet of her gemstone, pausing in her words a moment to take a sharp inhale. “I only learnt about what nearly happened to you a fragment of a rotation ago, upon my return to the palace.”

His brows furrow, suddenly realizing the fact that, beyond Blue, the throne room she sits in sounds desolate. Void of all Gems. “Where is everyone, anyways?”

“Distracting themselves, mostly. Last I heard, they’re busy trying to locate any of Pink’s essences that might still remain within our stores, just in case something like this should happen again. Of course I dread the very thought, but...”

Her voice wavers with just the hint of a sob, as she momentarily breaks from her explanation to regain her composure.

(Steven is ashamed to admit that he fails to mask the instinctual tightening of his shoulders as he sees fresh tears brim upon the digitized representation of her visage, even though logically he knows there’s no chance her influence could cross all these light years to weigh down on him here. Not on Earth. Not this far away.)

“...I couldn’t bear to lose another,” she manages, and— after dabbing those teardrops away with her curled fingers— glances back up to meet his gaze with those boundless, melancholy eyes. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, chest growing tighter at the untimely reminder of his mom’s passing, an inseparable facet of his life history he still hasn’t managed to process yet. Perhaps subconscious in nature, his free hand creeps its way under his shirt to rest protectively over his gem. “No one deserves to go through that pain again.”

“Y’know, that’s why I really do wish you’d consider our offer to permanently live with us on Homeworld, in the safety of the palace,” she mentions then, clasping her hands together as if this were a dawning, glorious new idea Steven’s never heard before. “After all, I’m sure none of this would’ve happened under the protection of the guard.”

“Uh, I don’t thi—“

“Can you imagine it, all four diamonds finally reunited under the same stars?” Blue continues, a wide smile passing gracefully across her lips as she waxes on about this indulgent dream of hers. “We could grow you an orchard, so you have as much food as you need, and your pebbles could make you whatever clothes or luxuries you desire. And of course, there’s still the matter of your annual birth celebration to attend to...”

Steven can’t help it. He can’t manage to stop himself, no matter how pathetic he knows his reaction is.

In the light of this topic’s re-emergence, he zones out again. He slips directly into the welcoming embrace of inattention and subconscious thought. His head’s pounding, the pulsing discomfort birthing a brand new species of ache right behind his eyes. It’s miserable, but no more miserable than the idea of the future Blue Diamond has been continuously pushing for the last few months. No more miserable than the idea of being trapped on a planet with individuals who — no matter how hard they try and change their habits for his sake in the present— have all deeply hurt him at various stages of his life. And sure, he knows this is a twisted, selfish sentiment for him to harbor, because of how Pink abandoned them in the past, because of how all three of them have worked so tirelessly these past months to reorganize their entire way of life: to actually see him as his own person instead of a shadow of his mom, to healthily process their own emotions instead of tearing others down, to openly invite fusions and off-colors into the light of society. They’ve genuinely changed for the better. He should be overjoyed about that, shouldn’t he? He should be happy for them.

And yet joy is the last thing he feels when faced with the genuine possibility that he might not be strong enough in his own convictions to stand up to Blue’s desires, that he might one day find himself trapped long-term on a planet that— albeit picturesque in its own unique way— he doesn’t call home, his feet rooted to the dead soil by thorny vines born of his own timidness.

Somehow, in the face of all his fears, he swears he’s transforming into a coward.

He didn’t used to be. The Steven Universe of Era 2 wouldn’t dare stand down from making his opinions heard, would fight for what he believes in until star-shine glistens overhead and all denizens of the galaxy could experience true freedom.

So what the hell is his hang up now? He knows exactly how he wants to respond, so why can’t he simply summon the courage to do it? Why can’t this be as intuitive as summoning his shield, or a bubble?

Why does he have to feel so... so twisted up inside about this?

Steven clenches his teeth then, a sudden spike of residual pain arcing up his spine. Yikes, okay. That doesn’t feel great. Maybe he’s been sitting up for too long, and needs to lay down and rest again.

Or else, maybe after he’s finally done discussing matters with Blue he could...

Wait a minute.

The fingers of his free hand begin to knead the blanket in his lap with a new wave of gusto as he comes to an abrupt revelation about his present condition that could change literally everything.

Stars, that’s perfect. That’s not even a lie! Why on Earth didn’t he think of this before?

He was severely injured this morning. The gemstone at his core outright could’ve shattered, without treatment. Surely any fellow Gem would understand if he says he needs some extra time to fully recover? Perhaps even... the rest of the week? Including his birthday? And on top of that, this extra time would allow him all the privacy he needs to figure out how to confidently and politely decline Blue’s recurring request to live on Homeworld. He’d literally be hitting two targets with one shield!

He nibbles at the inside of his bottom lip as he considers how best to phrase this.

“Hey, Blue?” he calls, immediately garnering her full gaze. “Um—“

Although briefly squirming like an insecure child under those intense azure irises, he stamps down that devilishly tempting urge to go silent and recede into the shadows of this conversation again, wholly compliant to whatever she says. No, he has to speak his mind. No positive change in this relationship will ever occur unless he resolves to stand up for himself, no matter how many reminders it takes. His muscles grow tense as his mouth bobs open once again.

“About the whole birthday celebration thing, I, uh...”

His tongue grows excruciatingly dry in his anxiety, and he’s suddenly struck with the reminder that he never drank the water Pearl left on his dinner tray. Pity, that. He swallows, throat tight and scratchy, and continues.

“I think it’s very kind of you to offer hosting a ball for me on Homeworld, but as of right now, I... I’m very, very sore, and need to stay at my home for a few days to recover from my injury, okay? I promise I’ll visit in person as soon as I’m physically able to,” he rapidly blurts, recognizing a glint of hurt coat Blue’s otherwise attentive expression, “just... after my birthday.”

The diamond lets her weary eyes flutter shut as she takes a moment to soak in everything he just said. Honestly, he can’t think to guess what’s running through her mind right now, and he’s not sure he wants to. Eventually however, she offers an extended sigh, its watercolor edges brushed with an air of melancholy.

“I suppose you’re right,” she replies, offering him a watery smile. “We wouldn’t want to upset your fragile organic system so soon after such an ordeal, now would we? Very well, then. I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Thank you,” he says, his shoulders finally loosening up from their overwrought state.

“We can do something to celebrate when you’re back on Homeworld, just the four of us. In fact, I’ve been talking with White, and we have the perfect idea for a gift!”

Steven gives a small nervous laugh, fiddling with the back of his shirt collar. “Hahah, yeah? Well, I guess I’ll look forward to it. Anyways, uh... thanks for checking in. Bye.”

His heart still pounding despite the overwhelming sense of resolution, his thumb presses the bottom point of the octahedron inwards, ending the call. He gently sets aside the communicator on his nightstand, next to his empty soup bowl. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he flops backwards on his bed with his arms stretched wide and gives a sharp, celebratory cackle of relief. He... he finally did it! He spoke his mind. He stood up to Blue’s headstrong desires, successfully reasserted his intentions. Set clear boundaries, just like Amethyst said he should. And as his reward, maybe now he can celebrate his birthday at home without guilt hanging like a weighty anvil over his head. Just maybe. He smiles, allowing his sore body to sink right into the plush cocoon of his mattress.

For the first time today, things are finally on the up-and-up.

And so that pattern continues through the rest of the evening. It’s not long after his call with Blue that his dad returns from the store, not even bothering to put the frozen and refrigerated foods in their proper temperature controlled places before bounding upstairs to check on him upon the call of his name. No amount of detailed description could ever hope to intimately capture the full spectrum of sheer elation and love Dad unloads on him in the precious minutes that follow, but by the end of it his father’s sobbing in his arms, exhausted tears staining the collar of his pajama shirt as they clutch to each other with iron clad grips. At this point, the only way Steven can hope to respond is to act as nothing more but a solid rock, if only to reassure him that he’s alive, he’s well, he’s here.

The two of them spend a good chunk of the remaining evening together, watching reruns of Under the Knife at the foot of his bed while nibbling on some cheddar popcorn. It’s rejuvenating, honestly. Stars, is it rejuvenating. Somehow it seems like an eternity since they’ve been able to just... live life together, even in the simplest of ways. They’ll share a dinner here and there when he visits home, sure— a video call from another planet every week or so, yes— but there’s something so fundamentally irreplaceable about physically leaning against your loved ones and spending a tangible amount of time with them that he’s sorely missed over his busy months as Era 3’s ambassador. It’s special. Something to cherish. And something he dearly hopes to engage in with his family and friends a lot more as his immediate duties with the Diamonds wind to a close.

At some point in the middle of their fourth episode, Steven finally finds his phone. It was in his jacket pocket, of course— the new pink wool one he left slung over his desk chair before leaving on the corrupted Gem recovery mission this morning. With that retrieved, he makes sure to text a quick update to all the friends he missed seeing today. Even though logic tells him getting cracked wasn’t entirely his fault, it’s hard to dodge the temptation of guilt. Thankfully though, with the rest of the week now scrubbed entirely free of Homeworld stuff, perhaps he can reschedule a few of these gatherings.

The rest of his night is uneventful.

The Gems pop in and out to check on him, otherwise attending to their own obligations. Over the comforting backdrop of the television, Dad gushes about the concert he’s organized in town next week for Sadie Killer and the Suspects. Says he’s hopeful it’ll be a sellout. In return, he provides lush descriptions of some of the distant former colonies (now free planets) he’s gotten to visit as part of his political service. There’s some pretty stunning ones, he has to admit. The sightseeing he gets to engage in is a small but shining perk of his current responsibilities.

At ten, the TV is turned off. They hug and part ways, his dad quietly shuffling to the bathroom downstairs to brush his teeth and throw on a sleep shirt.

His headache is almost gone by now, having reduced to nothing more but a faint aura.

He’s standing outside on the porch enjoying some fresh, salty air before bed when Amethyst quietly slides into place alongside him, seeking his affection. She wraps her arms tight around his torso, burying her face against his shoulder. He reciprocates in kind. She doesn’t cry like Dad did, however. She doesn’t even speak. Rather, her purposeful silence ripples through his soul more than any concrete word or phrase ever could. Innately, he knows what she’s asking.

“I’m okay now,” he murmurs softly, blinking away his own budding tears while his expression is still hidden from her. “You healed me, I’m okay.”

“You’re a big liar, y’know that?” she says, voice muffled.

He rolls his eyes, pulling away from her embrace. “Fine, fine. I’m still a little sore. ‘Ya happy?”

Amethyst frowns, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she shifts her stance to lounge against the railing. “I’d be happier if none of that ever happened in the first place.”

Her frank statement hangs amidst the wind like a tattered flag upon an abandoned battlefield. Steven swallows, the resulting lump settling uneven in his throat.

(For a second he almost feels sick again, a surge of lingering discomfort churning at his core.)

“Yeah...” he sighs, staring off into the dim ocean horizon and forcing himself to acknowledge her unfortunate experience with this type of injury. “Yeah. I’m sorry if that brought back any bad memories for you.”

She scoffs. “Ch’yeah, so... I’m not gonna say it didn’t suck, but. It’s over now, y’know? I’ll deal. You don’t have to apologize for it, or anything.”

Long pause. His quartz sibling threads her fingers together as she leans against the chipping wood, silently tussling with herself under the ebbing solidarity of the ocean tides. A significant stretch of time passes between them before she finally takes it upon herself to speak again.

“‘S’not like it was your fault, anyways.”

His chest tightens upon recognition of that familiar self-blame inherent in her tone. If he were a stronger, better person, he might take it upon himself to chip away at the walls of that insecurity with love and reassurance, to be the kind, encouraging Steven he used to be. But he’s tired, and he’s lived long enough to acknowledge by now that perfectly formed words can’t fix everything. Not immediately, at least. People are complicated. He’s complicated. And sometimes the best one can manage is to simply act as a supportive companion to another.

Starlight glittering overhead, and the cool coastal breeze tussling at their hair, he joins Amethyst at the balcony and rests his cheek on her shoulder just like he used to do when he was little. Together, enveloped in a tension-filled silence, they watch the waves together. Watch the gulls pick at old food scraps further up shore, closer to the edge of the cliffs.

“Hey, what kind of gem was it, by the way?” he asks eventually. “You never said.”

“Ughhh,” she groans, dropping her head against the wood with a soft clunk. “A dang sapphire. Literally no wonder why she was so slippery!”

Steven can’t help the bubble of oddly placed glee that rises within him upon her answer. He cracks a dopey grin, shaking his head at himself. A snicker passes his lips.

A sapphire. Of course it was a sapphire. Gosh, isn’t that sweet, sweet vindication.

Her brow creases in confusion. “What?”

Perhaps finally cracking under months of accumulated stress, he breaks into peels of low laughter.

“What is it? Dude, ya’ gotta tell meeee!” she cries, playfully rustling at his arm as he doubles over against the railing, clutching his sides as he wrests to catch his breath and respond.

“No, it’s- it’s not even funny,” he says, pushing past the final surge and gaining some sense of composure again. “I just... my guess was spot-on. I’ve never seen a corrupted sapphire, before that.” His demeanor falls sober in a snap, wholly humbled by the abrupt reminder of the vital task waiting in his future, a task that— alongside the Diamonds’ bottled essences— only he can hope to see through. “I hope she’ll be okay, once she’s healed. I’m not even gonna mention what happened, honestly.”

Amethyst visibly pales at his allusion to the incident this morning. To ‘what happened.’ Hah. As if cushioning the truth in vague, non-specific language could at all erase the stark reality of what he went through. Sometimes he really is daft.

“Steven, I—“ she swallows hard, nibbling at her knuckles for a moment as she contemplates the greater details of whatever seems to be assailing her mind. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, okay? But... I have to at least ask. Do you, like... remember anything?”

He frowns, avoiding her direct gaze as he moves to lean against the balcony, overlooking the blustery shoreline.

“What, you mean about... everything after the fight? And at the, ah... at the fountain, yeah?”

Amethyst offers a hesitant nod, her eyes glossed with marked worry. Peering at the pinprick constellations above as he reflects on this question, Steven experimentally nudges scattered fragments of memory closer together, the seconds and minutes of that experience progressively locking into place until—

The world bends and splinters within his sight, his dad and Amethyst’s tear-stricken faces phasing into each other as they sink ever further into the thickets of their fearful despair. He’s prone in their hold, hard light pulsing rampant through his veins, unregulated, unrestrained, stretching out from his broken gemstone like clawing, yearning fingers... his muscles taut at one moment and pliable at the next, wholly unable to exert control over his body as his every limb jitters and jerks, unable to staunch his hoarse sobs as he soaks in the cold, terrifying static of it all, and now his words are jumbled and backwards, and deep within he knows this with an intense clarity but he can’t help it, he can’t fix it, he can barely even think, he ca—

Steven inhales evenly, purposefully not allowing his expression to flash even a minuscule micro-expression of residual fear. After all, it’s Era 3. Everyone’s supposed to find happiness and fulfillment now, which can’t happen when people are stuck dwelling on their shadowed past. Thus, Amethyst doesn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of what he does or doesn’t know. That’s his problem to shoulder, his boulder to carry.

And he refuses to force anyone else to carry the weight of his past for him. He refuses to become like Blue, still stuck in a tempestuous pattern of pushing her emotions on everyone around her and making them feel like crap.

Perhaps it’s foolish, but he sorely wants to believe he’s better than her.

“Nope,” he says, feigning an unparalleled air of confidence as he shakes his head to confirm the negative. “Can’t remember a thing.”

#su #steven universe #amethyst #blue diamond #pearl #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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wildwoodmage · 3 years ago

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CROSSROADS

@boundforfreedomsonsal SonSal Week Year 3 Day 3

Second day in a row I'm cheating by repurposing fic I already had mostly written, but actually it's sonsal mod's fault for making prompts that suited my pre-existing drafts! This one is a continuation of Starlight Symphony, an AU featuring Sally as the Goddess of Order and Sonic as... well, why don't you read it for yourself? ;3 High fantasy with a touch of philosophy. Does it count as major character death if the scene takes place in the afterlife? Anyway...

Despite what humans and lesser gods might believe, Sally, Queen of the Gods, was not omniscient. Her knowledge was vast, unmatched by any who had not personally woven shapeless matter into planets and stars. She heard the song of every newborn soul, and remembered all who had come before. Human history was a tome she returned to time and time again, spending centuries pondering the stories of the strange creatures she and her husband had created. The future, however, remained behind a veil. Scourge had a unique talent for bucking her predictions, bending fate to his ever-shifting whims. Every once in a while, a human was born with a similar talent. These humans drew power from their defiance, their ability to stare fate in the eye and not blink. Sally soon realized that humans with this ability often became heroes, healers, leaders, or destroyers. They changed fate and the fate of all who followed in their wake. When Sally peered into a human’s future and realized that it was shrouded in chaos, she knew that they were one to pay close attention to.

When the triplets were born, fate ceased to be predictable. Infinite possibilities clouded Sally’s vision, and as much as the mystery vexed her, she found that she could not tear her eyes away. A lesser mind, studying them, would find them unremarkable; three children without wealth or protection, likely to die in obscurity. But they survived, and as they reached adulthood, Sally began to see the signs of three uniquely powerful souls, shining with defiance and infinite potential. Sonic, the eldest, was courageous and kind. He was a shield between his family and the myriad of dangers that threatened them. Sonia was a firebrand, with ambition that would never be satisfied with a life of poverty and fear. Manic was clever, and although his wit was often used for petty tricks, he could not fully conceal a profound love of justice. All three were dishonest, as humans often were; they pretended not to care about a world that did not care for them, but Sally could see that they ached for any innocent who suffered, and they yearned for a kinder future.

For two decades, a blink in the lifespan of a god, Sally watched them from afar. And when one reached the Isle of Souls, she approached him. Sonic lay on his back, cushioned by ivory sand, while rhythmic waves lapped at his feet. He stared up at a blue-gray sky, eyes tracing subtle shifts in the clouds. In all the years Sally had watched him, she had never seen him lie so still. On Earth, he had been eternally restless, his body overflowing with more energy than a single human could possibly contain. Here, however, he enjoyed a moment of perfect peace, untroubled by want or memory or anything that was not the rolling waves. He deserved it. Sally felt a twinge of pity that it may not last.

The Queen didn’t speak as she approached, not wishing to disturb him until he was ready. Her preferred form when speaking to humans was a lady, small and unassuming at a glance, with sensibly cropped hair and clothes of sturdy, deep blue linen. Unlike her husband, she cared little for striking awe and fear into the hearts of men. She found it was far more satisfying to reveal her true nature piece by piece, beguiling her followers not with power, but mystery. Her blessing was reserved for those who sought the truth beneath the surface. When she sat beside Sonic, legs folded demurely beneath her, only the vivid color of her eyes and clothes indicated that she was anything more than another ghost.

With uncharacteristic slowness, Sonic turned blank white eyes on her. He smiled, friendly but not familiar. “Howdy, stranger,” he said. “I didn’t know there was anyone here but me.”

“It’s best to give new arrivals space to adjust,” Sally said. “I hope I didn’t interrupt.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was just enjoyin’ the atmosphere.” Sonic looked back up at the sky. His face was smooth and slack, untouched by worry. Although he had worn a carefree mask on Earth, there had always been fury and tension seeping through the cracks. Now, he couldn’t even remember what had troubled him so. Sally was almost jealous. Almost.

“I love to come here,” she said. “There’s not a place in the universe that’s more peaceful.”

“I believe it,” Sonic said. “But I haven’t seen much beyond earth and the night sky. How much of the universe have you seen?”

“All of it and more,” Sally said. Sonic snorted as if she had cracked a joke, although her tone was entirely sincere.

“All of it, huh? And here I thought I was well traveled. What’s your name, stranger?”

Sally introduced herself, and was momentarily taken aback when Sonic extended a hand for her to shake. His smile was effortless, and Sally had seen shades of it in the years before. To Sonic, everyone was a friend until they proved otherwise, even someone like her. She gave his hand a polite shake.

“I’m Sonic,” he said.

“I know.”

“Of course you do.” Sonic’s tone was mirthful, unafraid. Perhaps it was the soothing balm of his surroundings that kept him from worrying, but Sally suspected that she would not intimidate him even if they were still on Earth. Even if any sensible human would be afraid of her. “You know everything, right? Can you tell me where we are?”

“This is the Isle of Souls, a waypoint between Earth and infinity. Ghosts rest here until they are ready to move on.”

Sonic was quiet for a moment, his smile softening into something more subdued. “I’m dead.”

It wasn’t a question, so Sally didn’t answer. “What do you remember?”

“Not much,” Sonic said. “Faces. Family. I’m missing a lot of details, and the actual dying part is a big ol’ blank.”

“That’s normal. Those who die tragically rarely remember right away. The memories will return as you make peace with your fate.”

“And my family?”

“Grieving, but safe. I cannot predict their futures, but I suspect that they will not join you here anytime soon.”

“Good.” A pang of sadness crossed Sonic’s expression, the first since his arrival on the Island. “Sort of. I guess it’s normal to miss them. I want them to be safe, but I think they’d like it here.”

“Most souls wait here until their loved ones arrive. You are welcome to do so. However…” Sally chose her next words carefully. It was exhilarating, speaking with someone whose actions she could not predict, but the uncertainty was unfamiliar and vexing. “I would like to make you an offer.”

At that, Sonic propped himself up, turning away from the blue-gray waves to look Sally in the eye. “Do you always sound this spooky, or do you crank it up a notch for the recently-dead?”

“Words have consequences, especially when they are misunderstood. Especially words from a goddess to a human. I want to be sure you understand the gravity of your decision.”

Sonic breathed out a sigh, casting a longing glance back at the endless ocean. But he sat up, facing Sally, as tension crept back into his posture. “Alright, Your Majesty. I’m listening.”

“You have two paths forward,” Sally said. “You may remain on the Isle of Souls like multitudes before you, and those that will come after. Ghosts are welcome to stay as long as they like. When you are ready for eternal rest, you will sail across the ocean. The horizon is beyond the reach of even the gods, and on the other side you will be truly at peace. No matter what path you choose now, that horizon is your final destination.

“You died sooner than I expected. You are not the first human to do so, and you will not be the last. But I believe that you still have a story left to write. If you accept my offer, I will grant you a portion of my power, and you will be my agent in the realm of the gods. The reaper who brought you to the Isle is one such agent, though you would have different responsibilities. You would be not unlike an angel from human stories, a messenger and a warrior, defying those who would disrupt the balance between the gods.”

Sally couldn’t predict the future, but she knew with complete certainty what Sonic’s first question would be. “Would I be able to go back to Earth?”

“No,” she said. “If I were to bend the laws of life and death, even for my own champion, my own power—and every universal law I uphold—would erode. Any time you cross into the mortal plane, your power and ability to communicate with the living will be severely restricted. You are dead, and you will remain dead. Should you accept, your service will be temporary, and when it ends you will return to the Isle of Souls.”

A wiser man would ask for time to think. Sonic merely looked at the starless sky, then the horizon. The energy that flowed through him in life and death alike had him fidgeting, sweeping his fingers through the soft sand. Sally couldn’t predict him, couldn’t see into his racing thoughts, but she had crafted his beating heart and recognized her husband’s gift, the restless defiant that flowed through his veins.

She was not surprised by his answer. She couldn’t wait to be surprised by what was to come.

#sonic the hedgehog #sally acorn #sonally #sonsal week #deity au #sonic gijinka #wildwood glyphs #death ///#death tw

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anastkantdhangar · 4 years ago

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How And What India Has Been Coping With During The Deadly Covid Second Wave

Last rites being performed by a family, like many, at the Seemapuri Crematorium Center in Delhi

The second wave of the coronavirus pandemic has been nothing less than that of one wreaking havoc and chaos for India - social media full of SOS messages asking for hospital beds, oxygen cylinders, medicines; crematorium centers had never witnessed such large amount of deceased being cremated, crematorium centers even had to be expanded with increased number of pyre-platforms at various parts of the country, and now the abandoned lifeless being found in rivers - simply nothing less than a catastrophe.

Heartbreaking visuals of people gasping for breath, lined outside hospitals unable to find beds, heavy shortage of important medicines like Remedesivir, lifeless bodies waiting for multiple hours at the crematorium centers for their turn to be cremated - this surely has been one of the worst health crisis India has ever seen. Exhausted frontline workers and workers at crematorium centers say they have never seen such huge crisis before. Woods have come to be short in numbers to cremate the dead. How have the authorities dealt with this?

There’s possibly not a single person in India who has not lost at least one of their relative, friend or a known one in last two months.

The centre alone did not fall well short and caught ill-prepared, states are equal culprits in their jurisdiction.

India has been under criticism by global media continuously for under-reporting of numbers of the deceased, and its lack of testing, with many reports from journalists on ground suggesting that the actual numbers of those deceased is actually at least 10-15 times more than the official numbers. A report showed that as the official data shows that in the capital of Madhya Pradesh, Bhopal, had seen only around 1,000 deaths due to covid since the pandemic began last year, whereas the data kept at crematorium centers shows that around 3,700 funerals have been done according to covid protocols in the city in the month of April alone in 2021. Such is the scale of under reporting of numbers in the official data, be it Delhi, Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and a majority of the Indian states.

From VIP treatments to the well-off even during these hard times, a classic case of Delhi government’s attempt to book Ashoka Hotel for safety measures for Delhi HC Judges with no inputs from the latter raising many eyebrows recently, states too have had their own bit of criticisms of handling of things during the pandemic.

When urban parts, despite having all the infrastructure and facilities, have seen such destruction, things in rural India have slowly started to catch headlines. With lack of information amongst the people about the virus and vaccines, multiple people in villages have been dying everyday lately complaining of fever, fatigue and shortness of breath, with no oxygen and testing facilities in most of the rural parts of the country despite being 15 months into the pandemic. How cruel things could unleash in the rural areas is a dangerous thought having seen the recent peak in urban ones.

Almost all of the country have been either in a lockdown or strict curfew with almost all states imposing the same, and this has shown some positive results in the last week with positivity rate coming down in various urban areas. The issue of oxygen crisis, after weeks long deliberation by the Supreme Court and various High Courts, have been dealt with to an extent in some manner only after the apex court made a separate National Oxygen Monitoring body.

The true figures lay not in the official data, but the crematorium centers of this country.

People waiting in queues at vaccination centers to get their jabs

Vaccination drive in many states have come to a halt owing to shortage of vaccines, with even those who are due for their second doses having difficulties finding a slot in many parts of the country. When the second wave started to wreak havoc, the widely demanded move by the opposition to open the vaccination drive for not only 45+ but for all adults was being considered by the government and given a nod, only to open big loopholes in the world’s largest vaccination drive, with one being heavy shortage of jabs.

The gap between the two doses of Covishield vaccine has been increased to 12-16 weeks on the basis of scientific data to show for it, surely there must be data now to show for it, but if this is so, then why the same expert’s panel earlier in February 2021 had advised states that the second dose of covishield should not be administered after 8 weeks in any case as it may not work then, and why Union I&B Minister also tweeted this very advisory on the same day? We cannot possibly answer this question just like we cannot estimate that actually how many people have died due to covid in this country. But for the record, The Lancet and WHO have themselves clarified way before that the gap between two doses for AstraZeneca vaccine, or Covishield should be 12-16 weeks; The UK follows 12 weeks gap and Canada follows 16 weeks gap, and India will follow the same to tackle the heavy shortage of jabs. The gap between two doses of Covaxin, on the other hand, stands the same as before.

When The USA and the European Union gave vaccination orders of millions of dollars last year, India did not order a single jab. Should not have we placed such orders last year itself? Did or did not the experts gave this input at that time? Have we even been doing it till as late as earlier this month? If not, then this itself is a much larger issue, but there's no transparency. State governments have been left with no other alternative than to issue global tenders to buy vaccines, which actually the centre should do in the global market, and as a result, not India, but its states are competing each other in the global market to purchase vaccines. Starting with Uttar Pradesh, then Maharashtra, followed by Orissa, Delhi and Karnataka have issued global tenders already to purchase vaccines.

Not a single Indian media outlet is now projecting Atmanirbhar slogans anymore, which was literally served by the same media to its viewers for months, confining them in a whole different world altogether. And it's only a matter of time that a new slogan arrives, and literally the same channels project it again for months, confining its viewers to another new world altogether, yet again.

Surely, superpower India of 2021 would not have wanted itself to be projected in such a manner in the foreign media. The majority of domestic mainstream media would not show you this, and would continuously keep you distracted with bogus narratives and side of things, killing your ability to question the status quo and to sustain a healthy democratic India.

Indian media back in January widely publicised about the ‘World’s Largest Vaccination Drive’, which holds true given our population, but no questions were asked about procurement of vaccines. Frontline covid workers were the first priority to be vaccinated, rightfully, and plan was to vaccinate 30 crore frontline workers inside 3-4 months in first phase of vaccination drive; and 5 months into the drive not even all of the frontline workers could be vaccinated. By numbers, India is amongst fastest vaccinating countries, but when it comes to ratio of its population, it fares poorly with not even 3% people been fully vaccinated yet. It is important to look into the matter and understand how much India has spent on research and production of vaccines.

A report from The Guardian, issued on 2nd April, 2021, claimed that as the US and European Union nations have been spending billions of dollars as aids for companies for research, development and production of vaccines, there is no concrete evidence of India spending on research and production of vaccines. Before the coronavirus pandemic struck, India was the largest vaccine producer in the world, but when the pandemic struck, soon the US and China surpassed India as largest vaccine manufacturers. Indian media had to go from taking pride in largest vaccination drive to reporting of mass shutting down of vaccinating centers owing to lack of jabs, such has been the vast hallucination we have been served for some years now. Owing to this very pride of Indian media, which not only confuses its people between Indian companies and the Indian government, it also reminds its people everyday that their very ability to question to sustain the world’s largest democracy is being massacred everyday.

After this report from The Guardian on 2nd April, 2021, the Indian government submitted an affidavit in the Supreme Court on 11th May, 2021 in which the government has clearly and specifically stated that the Indian government has not issued any grant or aid to the Serum Institute of India or Bharat Biotech, which implies no funds on research or development even for domestically developed Covaxin. Only 46 crores were funded to Bharat Biotech for clinical trials of Covaxin, that too by ICMR. Which means Indian media has been taking pride in vaccines made by AstraZeneca and a domestic company Bharat Biotech, and did not question for even once that why we have not been helping at least domestic companies for vaccine research.

If the affidavit submitted in Supreme Court by the government stands firm on authentic data and information, then what about the announcement made on 13th May, 2020 about 100 crores being allotted as aids for domestic candidates developing vaccines? Around same time last year, the US was investing 15 million dollars in various vaccine developing candidates, and was advancing vaccine orders worth 300 million dollars even before vaccines were developed. On 12th December, 2020, Union Finance Minister announced 900 crores aid for vaccine production, but the affidavit submitted by the government itself in SC claims no such grants were ever made. 20th April, 2021, news came in that Finance Ministry is advancing loans worth 3,000 crores to SII and 1,500 crores to Bharat Biotech for vaccine production, the affidavit holds advancement of these loans valid, though the money is yet to reach the companies. Adar Poonawalla of SII said last month while talking to a media outlet that he has been expecting these loans on the basis of media reports, thus he too believes in the Indian media, and on the same expectations his company has taken heavy loans from banks to continue vaccine production of Covishield. By the way Adar Poonawalla has field away from the country citing pressure from "influential" people and has been shying away from answering to what might have led to such huge covid surge in India during its second wave.

Thus, there was no Indian penny involved thus far in the production of vaccines by both these companies according to the Indian government.

With how we have been coping with the pandemic, various experts have been giving their ideas and views to deal with issues, and “revolutions” in Indian healthcare system are urgently required in post covid-era.

When the UK and many members of the European Union were witnessing devastating second wave earlier this year, Union Ministers in India were claiming that India has defeated covid and that India is in the ‘endgame’ of the pandemic, in fact the numbers were actually very low during the same period, and India was starting to return to normal just when the second wave started to unleash around mid-March, exposing lack of plans to tackle a potential second wave. Lack of preparedness on health infrastructure was visibly evident, when every political party was busy campaigning in states assembly elections and large crowd gatherings were seen at Kumbh. Could not these two super spreader events have been avoided temporarily to control covid surge, just like Nizamuddin Markaz could have been avoided last year, which again acted like a spreader event in the last wave, and was presented as such a heated topic by the Indian media for months last year?

In order to cope with heavy shortage of jabs, many health experts have been demanding government intervention in expanding vaccine production by involving other vaccine manufacturers as well by providing them vaccine formula and advancing tenders for vaccine production, for which steps are being taken only in this last week. The pace of the vaccination process also has been under heavy criticism as to why door to door vaccination proposals by several states has been turned down by the centre citing the latter has no such policy, given that polio vaccination process was a great success with minimum volunteers.

If both, SII and Bharat Biotech, are providing vaccines to the centre, states and private hospitals at different prices, with lowest price being for the centre and highest for private hospitals, could not the centre itself buy vaccines and provide them to state itself given that if states buy them on their own then they will have to pay double the price compared to the centre.

The money of 22,000 crore rupees Central Vista project, if used to buy covid jabs, would buy a whopping 146.66 crore jabs, potentially enough to fully vaccinate around 70-72 crore Indian citizens, which again is potentially enough to create herd immunity throughout the country, just a mere statistic based on facts.

It is important to keep current feedbacks in mind in order for the work to be done. No person in this country would have ever thought that private hospitals one day would run out of their capabilities to treat them, and potentially exposing that bulk of them are mere money making firms. It is high time India start to spend more on its healthcare and education, and the possibility of government taking complete control of healthcare and education, like successful western countries, should not be ruled out even after it being a slow process to come true.

Recent lockdowns and curfews by states have shown a dip in covid numbers and positivity rate, oxygen crisis seem to be in some control in the recent week, and vaccine production is being increased after government stepped in. Surely next few weeks are very critical to control the new surge of B.1.617 Indian mutant strain, with people hoping that they will overcome this health crisis soon.

But history will remember that India’s numbers ascribed not in the official data, but at the crematorium centers.

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