#might end up drawing more in the future but just these three for now!!!

[canmom]

jackie bringing the excellent analysis as usual <3

want to add some extra bits from the POV of a pro-piracy game dev

as a brief aside, the form of copyright (and in general 'intellectual property') we ended up with by the late 20th century is very historically contingent, the result of a lot of arbitrary decisions to expand the domain of copyright, or not. the authors of the book who owns this sentence, which I highly recommend pirating off libgen, do an excellent job of fleshing out this history, and how flawed so many of the arguments for copyright are.

should you pirate my game? (sure)

as someone who presently makes her living from game dev, and also pirates a lot of shit and believes quite strongly in the work of pirates being a good thing, I would be a huge hypocrite to say you shouldn't pirate my upcoming game when it comes out. you have no moral obligation to me to buy it, pirate it if you like!

if you do nevertheless buy my game I appreciate it of course, this makes it 0.x% more likely that my company will continue to employ me so I can keep this job, but if you don't, whether you pirate it or not makes little difference to me. hell, if you pirate the game and have a great time and tell me about it, I'd appreciate that a lot! if you pirate the game and write a review which causes three other people to buy it who otherwise wouldn't, the company does better than if you bought it and never said a word.

does that benefit me? well, sorta. I get paid a fixed salary by the company. the value of that salary is something I negotiate with my boss. if the company is doing well they might very well be likely to pay me more, but there isn't a direct line from 'copies of game sold' to 'euros in the pocket of bryn and the other ~10 devs'. right now my salary is being paid from the revenue of sales of the studio's other games, from before I joined the company. indeed, since my game hasn't released yet, I actually have yet to earn any dollars at all for the company, despite working here for a year and a half. that's before you get any distributors or whatever involved, it's just how capitalism works. (marx would say, in the ideal abstract, the capitalist buys from me a commodity called labour-power, whose value is determined by the cost of reproducing bryns.)

in some industries, the line from 'sale' to 'artist benefits' is even thinner. in anime, it is normal for studios to be paid a fixed price by the production committee. if the studio isn't on the production committee (and they usually aren't), that is all they will ever see from BD sales or whatever. this limits what they can pay their animators, who are typically paid by the cut, or by the drawing. for this reason, anime is largely used to promote other more profitable industries, like manga, music or figurines. about the best you can say is that buying anime BDs makes it more likely that more anime will be made in the future.

a similar case is streaming services, who sell access to a basket of assorted shows, and then spend money on new shows based on their statistics of what people watch, and how likely it will be that a given show will help them retain or gain subscribers. (similar subscription models, called things like a 'game pass', are being introduced into the games industry, as yet unclear whether they'll catch on.)

outside of books and very small-scale production (solo indie dev scale of stuff) it's honestly quite rare for artists to directly receive most of their compensation per sale (i.e. as royalties) instead of a one-time salary.

a pirate's autoethnology, or some shit

to get on my own soapbox, the problem with many discussions about piracy is they conflate a bunch of different questions. assuming 'people work full-time on creating artworks without starving for it' is a good we want to promote, creating artificial scarcity by prohibiting certain types of copying is a mechanism that attempts to achieve that end. we can evaluate whether it's fit for purpose from a sort of floating, society-eye view. personally I think it's not fit for purpose and should be abolished in favour of some other model.

we can also ask on the individual level, given the society we ended up with is not changing in a hurry, should you pirate stuff as a personal, moral question? after all, generally speaking the people who create the artworks I enjoy are people who I think well of, and even if I never meet them, I hope they will be able to live comfortably and (selfishly) continue to do make that unique thing. however, I only have limited resources. I give away a significant amount of money to friends, or people in desperate need who I encounter. so you could say, that if I spent £10 on a movie, perhaps that's £10 less for a homeless person I meet on the street, or Peter in South Sudan, who arguably needs it more.

but. I also spend a reasonable amount of money acquiring things that make me happy which I can't easily pirate, like physical artbooks, or meals at restaurants. (these things are, unlike copies of artworks, intrinsically scarce. they're a much better fit for being a commodity.) however, it's not like I made a decision at some point that I value printed books or travel more than I value movies or anime. in fact, I probably spend more time talking and thinking about movies. I will pay for a movie at the cinema, but I will prefer to pirate it rather than own it on BD, or download it from a VOD site.

most things I pirate I never would have bought. however, sometimes if I can't find a thing on any pirate sources, I might just buy a copy. so we can say the option of piracy represents a lost sale with some small probability. if torrenting became less reliable, maybe I would spend more money on movies, and by the same token, less money on other things. (though I would definitely watch far fewer movies.)

however, I would spend that money either way. the result would be, money would flow through the economy slightly differently, boosting x kind of production and reducing y kind of production.

since it is in fact not very difficult or dangerous to pirate stuff, the main reason selling copies of things is still profitable is 1. it is sometimes more convenient to buy it (steam is super convenient to use for example, even with trusted sources like fitgirl existing; not everyone is as comfortable as I am with the tech), 2. fear of violence (not necessarily credible) and 3. there is a moral norm against piracy so most people choose not to even if they are confident they can get away with it, or don't consider it in the first place. I don't really know what the weighting on these three factors is!

in this sense, the current model turns 'supporting the artists whose art we want to continue to exist' into a collective-action problem. if any given individual pirates instead of buying, the effects of that decision are lost in the noise. but if the norm shifted towards piracy, that can shift the industry. maybe f2p games-as-a-service become more dominant (though piracy is only one of a bevy* of reasons for this).

*haha game engine jokes

anyway, as far as a norm to follow, there really are all kinds of strategies you can adopt given the lay of the land here. for me? if something is 'small' and 'indie', like a solo creator on itch.io, i'm more likely to buy it for example - their margins are probably thinner and they are more directly dependent on sales. if someone is a personal friend I'm also more likely to buy their creations (you already mentioned Charity, so let me mention another example: after meeting director Louise Weard at a festival and getting on very well with her, I bought her movies on gumroad, rather than searching for them on pirate sites) - even though, ironically, they are the most likely people to straight up give me things for free.

but I can't claim to apply this principle in anything like a rational way. it's pretty much entirely feelings-driven, and shaped by social norms. this is probably just fine, like, before it is an economic activity, art is just culture, making and sharing art is a game we play together. spending money on things is a move in that game, but it's far from the only meaningful move. thank the gods we aren't Homo economicus, that guy sounds like a bore!!

really all I ask, as someone who makes stuff, is that if you engage with my things, you do it in a way that feels true to you. if that moves you to spend money, thanks!! - obviously I quietly hope my game does in fact sell, because the number going up would feel like a pat on the back that says 'good job, you game developed well', and it might lead to me getting paid more which lets me do more nice things for people. today I bought a book of photos after discussing it with the artist for a good little while, because that felt like a nice way to express that I liked what she was doing. but it's never really been about the money. money is such a stupid and ugly abstraction, a very crude mechanism for directing social production and structuring human relationships.

and if you'd rather pirate my game and spend your money on, idk, drugs, like go for it man. (but tell your drug dealer about my game, maybe they'll buy it instead :p)

tirade on pirating software. 1.7k words.

i recently read a post by someone who is anti-piracy (better: against making copies of software). they said that if you can't afford something you should wait for a sale or find a free alternative. and then they said that the only time that they find piracy (better: finding a copy online) acceptable is for games that are so old that you cannot buy them from a licensed vendor, but only from resellers, because in that case the developer doesn't get the money anyway.

i feel like i could make a sort of loophole argument in this framework, which is that i can watch ebay until the game is listed by a reseller, and then pirate it, because i'm no longer making a choice between paying the developer or not paying, but paying a reseller and not paying, and i've decided not paying a reseller is morally permissable.

but i think it can go a little further. they specified developer. i should pay the developer. even though i don't buy directly from the developer, but a licensed vendor. but the vendor's surcharge is not worth bringing up.

this is because we don't believe in following the law, exactly, and thus you should follow all copyright laws for that reason. it's because of, usually, one of two reasons: developers deserve to be compensated, or that we have a moral obligation to support the developer.

on the first view, the "just deserts argument", it's not clear to me that the moral obligation to not pirate is watertight in this case (when i said "pirate" before, i made a silly gesture, meant to indicate that i'll say that for brevity, but am not acquiescing). a developer deserves to be compensated for their work; but what do they deserve exactly?

does every developer deserve to become as rich from their game as Notch, and every time they don't there's been an injustice? you probably don't think that.

do they deserve some particular amount that we would say is 'fair'?—it isn't unjust if they do better (although you might think so, and complain about how much of the spotlight they take up compared to others just as deserving), but we only require that much success of them. this might be dependent on the kind of game that it is, for example, a better game deserves more success. if that's the case, then we've exonerated at least some pirates; so long as the developer is as successful on the market as they deserve to be, we've done nothing wrong.

you might say that it's wrong to pirate games that haven't yet reached the threshold of just success, because you place them in jeoprady of never achieving the success they deserve. further, you might say that this threshold is epistemologically unknowable to human beings (see: click), and therefore in practice you can never justify piracy, because you never know if a game has reached the threshold of justice. pirates, therefore, gamble with justice, and only Minos will pay their winnings.

i think this would be a good argument, except that i don't understand why i, as someone who wants to download a copy of the game, am the one who bears the moral responsibility. if the success of this developer is a matter of justice, then surely we all bear that responsibility, even people who don't play videogames. therefore we should all purchase and promote every game, and so forth.

this isn't what any anti-piracy advocate believes, even if they seem to take a deserts line. instead they restrict our obligations to participating in ordinary market mechanisms. the game is being sold as a commodity; therefore people should buy that commodity from a point of sale apporved by the producer, and so forth. it's taken for granted that the anarchy of the market is the right way to guarantee justice, and other possibilities are never explored. ultimately, the deserts argument naturalizes capitalist relations. once you remove these blinders, the mechanism for delivering justice it actually proposes seems obviously unreliable and unsatisfactory (in fact, i believe this criticism applies to all deserts arguments).

here i will quickly add my complaint against the second argument, that we should support the developer. the argument runs: if you like a developer, you should support their work by purchasing their products. i am a lot more sympathetic to this argument and so i won't spend much of the post attacking it. it's enough to say that it suffers from the same problem we just mentioned: why is participating in ordinary market mechanisms the best way to support the developer? capitalism is likewise naturalized by this case when it is advanced as a moral argument against piracy. therefore we can run the same argument: if we have a moral obligation to support game developers, then it's not clear to me why only potential players have that obligation, and so forth (but this time the criticism doesn't apply to all similar arguments, just this one).

however, it often isn't advanced that way, and as a pragmatic argument i tend to agree with it. in fact sometimes they actually have a case for participating in normal market mechanisms: DMC fans want you to buy DMC games because then Capcom will look at their sales figures and decide it's worth making another game. you could argue that they still have capitalist blinkers on because they only advocate you buy one copy, the one you'll play, which is how the game is sold. maybe they should be asking you to buy a hundred copies or whatever. but we don't want them to do that, LOL. and the feeling is usually that there are limits of what you can ask out of someone; when one DMC youtuber was spending quadruple digits on a DMC-themed gacha, his viewers expressed concern and encouraged him to stop. so cheers to DMC players.

in fact, there might be ethical reasons to only ask someone to purchase a copy of something in the normal way: when i try to get you to buy one of Xraftstar / Charity / Porpentine's games, i am doing it because i personally want my friend to succeed, and i want to see their art recognized. this is a kind of moral motivation, but it's the morality of rendering personal obligations; you are not likewise obligated. however, i of course feel there are limits on what i can ask of you, and so, unlike when i make donation posts for my friends who are struggling, i'm only comfortable encouraging you to purchase a copy of something i think will actually render a use-value to you (even if you could still obtain it in other ways and get the same use-value).

but anyway, why specify the developer in the first place? the work put in by the publisher, the developers and maintainers of the platform its sold on, the bandwidth of the payment processor, and so forth, all get left out of the question, even though they are all more or less necessary parts of the normal market mechanisms we're encouraging you to participate in.

i think it's obvious that the anti-piracy advocate of this kind doesn't actually want to advocate for participation in the market economy, like Bush during the recession. they want to be just by the developer because they see the developer as a fellow individual like themselves; they actually want to cut through the market alienation and simply do right by another person. therefore all of the other capitalists who make money off the sale—publisher, platform, payment processor—are just more big companies, perhaps even leeches we'd be better off without.

it's funny, because historically this view was used to support piracy when it came to music. you used to see a lot of charts like this:

how much of a CD goes to the label, manufacturers and distributors, to show how little really goes to an artist, to shut down people who said you should buy the CD to support them. there's a sort of naive anarchism underlying this: i want to help the individual who made the music i love, who needs manufacturers and distributors anyway?

in this kind of simple moral reasoning, resellers really get shafted. they're seen as scalpers, taking money without producing any value. no one says: 'make sure to support resellers!' thus we never ask who the individual behind all of the market alienation the resller is. whoever they are they don't deserve the money. then, when you are poor and struggling, and cannot afford to buy things for yourself, what do people tell you to do? sell your games, CDs...

but i don't want to be too sarcastic here, because there is nothing funny about this impulse to reach through market alienation and connect morally with another individual. it is the essence of emancipation. but hear my argument: purchasing commodities from them is an unsatisfactory way to realize it. it's true that you can certainly help someone by buying what they sell; many of us rely on this to a greater or lesser extent, and, pragmatically, i hope we'll all buy Nadia Nova's next game and put food in her belly. but systematically, not in this or that case, but as a general moral principle, the commodity form, the exchange of cash for things or copies of things—this is the very thing that reproduces these conditions of alienation in the first place. and these relations—their predictability as a feature of the market, or even their scarcity as a part of a volatile and impermanent system—is what habitually places the developer in a condition of alienation from their labour, coaxing them to give up their so-called intellectual "property", then forbidding them from using the games they made; or by seducing them into placing their music on a platform, then offering them increasingly small margins and less control; or to post their content (qua sex workers) on a paywall platform, which then imposes complex payout structures to keep them from claiming their earnings. and so forth. the desire to reach through all of the noise and support the individual is inevitably captured, redirected, and fed upon in as many ways as it can be, until the whole thing crashes down and the cycle starts again.

therefore, should you purchase or pirate the next game you want to play? Remember Ptahhotep: "The noble who sitteth before food divideth it as his soul moveth him; he giveth unto him that he would favour."

[mellosdrawings]

The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

[dreamescapeswriting]

Easy Like A Sunday morning ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

GENRE: comfort for family drama, argument between couple, established relationships, angsty, with soft ending

PAIRING: Chan x GN !Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The sun beamed through the cracks in the bedroom blinds as you lay with your head on Chan's chest, your fingers running up and down his chest softly as the two of you lay there for what felt like forever. Sundays were always the best for the two of you, neither of you had to work which meant you could spend all day in bed if you felt like it, which nine times out of ten you always did.

You'd lay in bed, tangled in the sheets enjoying the warmth of a lazy Sunday morning, doing nothing but eat and laugh together as you shared moments you couldn't wait to tell your future kids about.

"I love lazy Sundays with you," You said with a giant smile, your hands drawing invisible patterns into Chan's bare chest as he smiled and let out a content sigh. 

There was nowhere else he'd rather be than with you, work had been stressful to him all week and this had been exactly what he needed to unwind from the chaos of his boss. The two of you needed this time together to just relax, sometimes it was the only thing you had to look forward to after a shitty time at work.

"Me too...No rush...No plans," He sighs happily as he stretches his legs in the bed making you giggle a little at him as he finally stopped and wrapped his arm around your waist, 

"Just us, TV and lots of food." He finished as you let out a giggle. The two of you would always cook for one another, taking turns every Sunday to see who would cook for the other and this week it had been you.

So you'd made you both some breakfast wraps which had gone down a treat with Chan who'd already had three from you.

"We should do this on Saturdays too," You mumbled, turning to lay with your chin resting on your boyfriend's chest and smiling a little. Saturdays were usually reserved for spending time with your family but after the big blowout you'd had with them yesterday you were hoping you'd limit your time with them as much as humanly possible.

"I thought you were always busy on Saturdays..." Chan trailed off a little trying not to seem as hurt as he was by never getting to spend the full weekend with you but it was confusing for him. The two of you had been together for almost five months now and you'd never been free on Saturdays and whenever he asked you about it, you'd brushed it off as nothing or told him you were working. 

"Turns out I might be free more often now," You smiled weakly and looked at Chan who appeared to be elsewhere in his own mind so you bit your lip and turned his head to look at you.

"I love you." You whispered before reaching across and kissing him softly. Chan's arms wrapped around you as he pulled you closer to him, his worries melting away as he shared a peaceful kiss with you. As you moved to straddle his lap something sounded downstairs and you stalled completely, your hands resting on Chan's bare chest and you frowned.

No one else had a key except for Chan - who was present and accounted for and...

"Shit!" You hissed out, rushing over to the end of the bed and throwing Chan's clothes in his direction, you looked at him to see him frowning at you.

"What?! Who is it?!" Chan sat bolt upright, panicking as you rushed to find your own clothes, you didn't have time to explain anything to him right now, all you needed to do was hurry up and get dressed before someone walked into your room.

"Yn, this would be a bad time to tell me you're secretly married with a husband." Chan chuckled lightly trying to make you talk to him but you shook your head at him, whimpering a little as you heard the front door slam shut.

"I'm not..I-I just- You need to go."

"What? Why?" The confusion was written across his face as he got dressed, grabbing his bag from your hands as you swallowed a lump that was in your throat.

"Yn! Get down here! We need to talk!" Your mother's voice screeched from down the stairs making your whole body tense up so hard you were afraid you were never gonna move again.

"Y-You need to get out of here before they see you," Your voice barely grew louder than a whisper but Chan heard you as he frowned,

"Why can't they see me?" Chan's voice came out in a whisper too and you cringed as you heard your brothers rumbling around in the kitchen,

"P-Please." Your shakey voice made Chan panic but he nodded his head, a little unsure as to where all of this was coming through.

The two of you had been going out long enough that you could easily meet one another's family, hell, you'd already met Chan's and they all adored you. Whenever Chan had asked about your family, you'd told him it was "complicated" and that you weren't that close but for them to walk into your home it seemed pretty close to him,

"Explain to me what's going on." He wasn't demanding but more concerned, your mother sounded pissed off and he wasn't going to leave you alone if you were worried about them.

"I will...later, I'll distract them and you can go out the front door." You looked out of the blinds to make sure none of them were waiting in the back and you made your way to the bedroom door, your heart racing rapidly inside of your chest.

"Yn," Chan whispered, his chest aching a little at the thought of you hiding him like he was some kind of dirty secret. All of your friends had met him, even your co-workers but you weren't introducing him to the people that mattered most and it pained him.

"I have to go. Please just leave." You barely gave him any chance to fight you on it before you walked out of the bedroom door and headed toward the living room.

"It's too late for you to still be in bed, you shouldn't sleep so much." Your mother's voice carried to the bedroom and Chan waited until he heard you shut the living room door before making a break for it.

The front door to your boyfriend's place creaked open as you stepped inside, your shoulders slumped as you let out an exasperated sigh and kicked off your shoes. You expected to see Chan waiting for you with open arms but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Chan?" You called out before walking further into the home but something felt completely off about it all. The living room felt uneasy and the air felt thick with tension as you noticed the dim lights and Chan sitting in a chair staring at you with a frustrated look on his face. 

The air felt heavy as if it was carrying the weight of all the unspoken words between you and Chan from earlier in the morning. 

"Chan-" You started but never got to finish, 

"We've been together for five months and you've never introduced me to your family." You knew the two of you were going to talk about this tonight but you were hoping you could do it within the comfort of your boyfriend's arms.

"Chan, it's complicated." You breathed out, dropping your bag onto the floor and taking in a deep breath. You'd been trying to figure out where to start with this all day but you still didn't know how or even where to begin.

"Complicated? What seems complicated because they all seemed pretty happy to swing by your place today." He grumbled at you, you looked down at the floor before switching your gaze back to Chan who was staring daggers at you.

"They weren't invited." You mumbled a little because they weren't. They weren't supposed to use the key unless there was an emergency and after the fight you'd had the previous day you figured they'd never wanna see you again anyway.

"They're family, they come whenever they want. My family is the same." Chan reminded you and you rolled your eyes a little. Chan's family were great, they came around but announced it first, and sometimes sent a quick text to prepare him but yours weren't like that.

"Yeah, well your family is different than mine." Your family were different than most, they would drop by unannounced or call you at work demanding you leave and go to them right away.

"How?" He arched a brow at you. All day he'd been left to stew in his own thoughts and he'd come to one conclusion about everything and that was that you were ashamed to be with him and that was why you hadn't introduced him yet.

"It's-"

"Complicated," You both said at the same time before Chan let out a loud scoff at you, shaking his head before sitting down in the chair. This felt like a losing battle every single time he brought up the subject of your family,

"We've talked about it all before and you always brush it off. I feel like a dirty little secret."

"You're not a secret, Chan...It's just-"

"Just what?!" He finally yelled, losing his patience with you as tears built in his eyes. He wasn't the type to cry in front of you but he was losing his will and needed to know if there was something wrong with him that you would hide part of yourself away from him.

"They're just...They're different," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you stared at him. Your family had been one of the main reasons you swore off dating for the longest time. You'd never wanted to have to introduce anyone to your family so long as you could have helped it. 

"Are you ashamed of me? Is that why we haven't been introduced?" He questioned, staring at you as you sniffled a little, you never wanted him to feel that way because of something you were doing. It had nothing to do with him and all to do with your family,

"No...Chan, it's not that," You sighed shaking your head.

"I just need some more time to figure out how to handle this." You explained, taking in deep breaths but Chan was through with waiting if it meant hiding behind closed doors and sneaking out of the house like he was a teenager.

"Time won't solve anything if we don't face it! We're supposed to be a team...Yn..." You stared at him as you felt the doubt hanging over you like a dark cloud.

You'd been taught never to depend on anyone else no matter what but Chan had been breaking that thought ever since the two of you had met. He'd been breaking every lesson your family had hammered into you over the years and you loved him for it.

"Let me in, Yn...Let me be there for you,"

"I need...time." Your voice cracked as Chan growled a little, standing up and staring at you.

"How much time do you need? Huh? This affecting our relationship and I can't just keep waiting around for you to be ready." Your eyes landed on his as you shook your head. It sounded like he was getting ready to break up with you and the whole point of hiding him from your family was to avoid that,

"Chan, please." You pleaded desperately with him, reaching out for his hands but he stepped further away from you, shaking his head.

"I love you, Chan, and I want to be with you just give me...a little time to figure things out with them." You begged, watching as Chan's eyes softened a little.

"I want to be with you too Yn but we can't keep avoiding it. It isn't fair on either of us." You sighed a little rubbing the bridge of your nose and nodding, you knew he was right but it didn't make you feel any better about all of this,

"We're not teenagers, I don't want to sneak around anymore." He finished and you looked up at him.

"My family are...They have certain beliefs." You told him plainly, sitting down on the edge of his sofa and trying to figure out the best way to approach all of this. It wasn't religion-based but your family believed that certain things had to be a certain way for families to be able to work and grow. It was safe to say you didn't share a lot of their beliefs since you'd done everything you could to get away from them ever since you were at a legal age to do so.

"They have a whole thing about dating, I'm not supposed to date anybody without them giving their approval," You scoffed a little and shook your head as you finally let it off your chest, a weight felt as though it was coming straight off you as well

"You know, it took me almost six years to convince them to let me move out."

"Let you?" Chan asked softly as he sat down on the chair, staring at you as he waited for you to elaborate on it some more,

"I wasn't allowed to work either, they stopped me working. Claiming I needed to be a homemaker for your future partner."

"But you weren't married to anyone..." Chan hoped you weren't since the two of you had been dating for so long and you laughed dryly and shook your head,

"No, but they had plans for me and I broke them down so I wouldn't have to fit in the mould that they had for me."

"Yn.." He whispered, sympathy leaking from his words as he moved to kneel on the spot in front of you, your eyes finding his as you finally let the damn break and you told him everything.

"Every Saturday is reserved for them. I have to go around there, and we talk about work and life at home it was the condition they had for letting me move out...That and no dating," You laughed dryly and Chan moved to sit beside you, holding your hand tightly. 

"I hadn't told them about us yet because I didn't want them to rush me back to their place...To shield me away and I certainly don't want them to judge you." You looked at him with tears running down your cheeks.

"I'm scared I'll lose you." Chan grabbed your hand in his and squeezed them softly. There was no way on this earth that he was ever going to let you go without a great fight,

"You're not going to lose me...Ever and you're certainly not going to face it alone, Yn. I'm here for you, no matter what." He told you and you smiled weakly, you wanted to believe him but if your family were set on something they weren't just going to back down from it.

"I appreciate it, Chan, but they're difficult." You told him as he gently wiped the tears from your cheeks and shook his head, he didn't care how difficult they were he was never going to let you go through any of it alone.

"Then we can stay hidden as long as you need but sooner or later you'll have to face them...I plan on making you my future spouse and spending forever with you." Your cheeks began to heat as you looked at him, 

"We're in this together, I love you." He whispered before kissing your forehead, your chest tightening a little as you nodded.,

"I love you too and I'll tell them...eventually. I just-"

"We'll tell them together whenever you're ready." He said, cutting you off and kissing your cheek softly. You thought about it and laughed a little, they were going to hate you introducing a man you'd already been dating for months.

"They won't like it."

"Then they'll have to get over it. If they try and take you from me they'll have a big fight on their hands." He winked at you before you cuddled into his chest, relaxing for the first time since that morning and letting out a small and happy sigh.

"Let's go upstairs and finish our lazy day." He told you before you kissed him softly and made your way toward the staircase.

"I'll be up, I'm going to order your favourite." He chuckled as he watched you happily jogging up the stairs to his bedroom.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3

[myceliacrochet]

Reblog if answer tysm!!

Eleven Urgent Campaigns

Hey guys, I know several people are waiting on me right now to make posts for you, and I apologize🩷🩷🩷 I am struggling to get everything done on my to-do list, especially since it is hard for me to get as much done due to disabilities, but rest assured that most of the items on my to-do list are for Palestinians🩷🇵🇸🍉 I made a lot of progress tonight on flyers to distribute in person for several families -- @manal-ghorab3, @sham-moner, Hala, Ayat, and Fatima. I also worked on job applications and my application for government assistance so that I can keep doing this work and so I can have a small amount to donate.

For now, I want to draw attention to several campaigns, each of which are urgent:

🇵🇸 Contact the WHO to ask them to evacuate nine-year-old Mohammed Alchear now for EMERGENCY LIFESAVING TREATMENT instead of in less than two weeks, when the child would be dead. The WHO has the permission of Israel, they just need to move quickly before the child passes.

🇵🇸 Hala and her daughters are starving to death in north Gaza, where all life is being exterminated at an even higher rate than the rest of Gaza. Hala said they are praying that an angel will save them. Hala's campaign is dangerously stagnant and needs extra support because applying for vetting will be a challenge for her due to loss of hope.

🇵🇸 Ayat (26) and her one- and two-year-olds are also starving to death and in serious danger in north Gaza. Like everyone on this list, they desperately need emergency food, provisions, and evacuation.

🇵🇸 Moneer (19) just got out of major surgery, and his family -- who just lost two extended members to a raid -- is struggling to find most of the basic necessities, even clean water.

🇵🇸 Mariam, her little girl, and her baby are stranded in a refugee camp in Syria so dangerous that the organization that ran it, the World Food Programme, no longer brings food. She is trying to keep her head up. Like every Palestinian family I am advocating for, Mariam's family is freezing cold. She has enough food for the end of the month, but not enough cooking fuel, and she needs power.

🇵🇸 Sameer al-Kilani's (21) campaign is dangerously stagnant and he is starving. He needs community support.

🇵🇸 Neveen and her four children feel abandoned and overlooked by the world, and they are getting flooded with icy cold rains.

🇵🇸 Manal and her family of five need medical attention and emergency food, and their campaign needs more consistent support.

*Edit: Her GoFundMe campaign keeps getting shut down, and she just lost all her campaign money for technical reasons. Please help this family gain back the donated money they keep losing!!

🇵🇸 Shorouq, Sameer, and their three kids need the same, and they fear for the coming winter of even worse flooding, freezing, and famine.

I might need to post using this kind of format in the future for time's sake so I can get to everyone... Let's see how this one goes

@erectiledisfigurement @vague-humanoid @plomegranate @rainbowywitch @chronicsheepdeprivation @danielladadasworld @win-rrar @shizukateal @sweetsweethate @hexxeh @heydreamchild @knavewoods @katherinefh @variouscontent @blvvdyindustries @morelinesandscribbles @monstermashpotato @wellsbering @tolbachik @akajustmerry @comrademango @superdragonjpeg-thing @afropiscesism @ihavenotfallenyet @fly-sky-high-09 @remindertoclick @slowbrobutch @insanitysmiles @wirehairwiredstare @everypores @pregnantseinfeld @seeyouguyslater @innovatorbunny @ohlorde @imjustheretotrytohelp @awetistic-things @theinconvenientlifestyle @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sea-shame @faacethefacts @craigthetourguide @blomstermjuk @mythiedew @operationladybug @fifthnormani @disinfobot @beserkerjewel @hellootoodlesxoxo

[dyns33]

Only wastelands

I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more

People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.

After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.

Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.

There was no reason for this to happen anyway.

China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.

That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.

Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.

First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.

Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.

It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.

Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.

"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."

They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.

No one could have known that they were not safe at all.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.

Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.

Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.

For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.

Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.

Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.

The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.

On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.

But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.

"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"

"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."

“You fucking ghoul !”

Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.

He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.

It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.

As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.

"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"

"… Sorry."

"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."

At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.

But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".

"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"

"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."

The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.

The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.

"Please… Don't leave me here…"

"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."

“They don’t like cowboys ?”

The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.

Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.

"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”

“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.

He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.

But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.

So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.

After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.

“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”

“No thanks, never was a fan.”

"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"

“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”

Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.

He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.

As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.

She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.

It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.

“You should have five more vials.”

“Sugar, leave it.”

"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”

"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."

“But Coop…”

“Y/N, sleep.”

In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.

This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.

He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.

And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.

"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."

"… All right."

Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.

Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.

Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.

It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.

Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.

So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.

But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.

Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.

“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”

"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”

She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.

Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.

With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.

Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.

[fideozepam]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𑣿ྀིྀ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨

As the Marcellus family arrives to Rome, they brought along their daughter and gifts symbolizing compliance and respect. Their offerings met with the scrutinizing gazes of the now emperors of the powerful Roman dynasty.

The Marcellus villa buzzed alive with preparations as dawn broke. Servants scurried about, packing crates with fine cloths, silver and jars of olives and honey, that represented Lusitania’s loyalty to Rome.

Outside, a gleaming imperial carriage, emblazoned with the eagle of Rome, awaited. Soldiers stood at attention, their armor glinting in the sunlight, while horses snorted and pawed at the ground, ready for the long journey.

Camilla stood at the threshold, her mother fussing over the hem of her travel cloak. “You must make a good impression,” her mother murmured, smoothing the fabric. “You represent us now.”

Her mother’s hands trembled ever so slightly, though her face remained calm and focused. Tugging at the fabric and brushing away invisible specks of dust, her movements were deliberate, slow - as if she was stalling for more time with her little girl.

“I know,” Camilla replied, her voice barely audible. She glanced at her father, who stood silent, his face unreadable, though his eyes betrayed pride and sorrow.

In the Villa’s entrance, carriages awaited for them. Camilla bit her lip and glanced away, her eyes catching the horizon where the estate ended. She'd never been beyond that line before. The thought made her chest tighten.

Her mother straightened the brooch at Camilla's neck, her fingers lingering there a moment too long. When she finally looked up, their eyes met. For a heartbeat, they both froze, as if the world had gone still.

Without a word, her mother brushed a stray curl from her daughter's forehead, letting her hand linger just long enough for Camilla to feel the warmth of it. That simple touch spoke of years of comfort, protection, and love-things that no imperial palace or Roman luxury could ever replace.

Camilla blinked quickly, her vision blurring.

She reached out, gripping her mother's wrist. The older woman paused, squeezing her daughter's hand in return, her own trembling now fully visible.

The carriage driver cleared his throat, breaking the moment. Camilla let go reluctantly, her fingers slipping away from her mother's as if afraid they might break the fragile connection between them. As soon as the three of them got in, everything would start, marking her final steps on the land she was born in.

The carriage door opened, and Camilla stepped inside, her family following. As the wheels creaked forward, she watched their estate shrink into the distance. Her mother’s hand rested on hers, a steady anchor, but Camilla’s mind raced. She was leaving everything she knew—her home, her cat, her sisters, the quiet life of Lusitania—for a future she could scarcely imagine.

The days blurred together. The roads were smooth but long, the air thick with dust from the carriage wheels. At night, they stopped at bustling way stations where soldiers ate loudly and her father drank wine with the Roman envoy.

Camilla spent her evenings seated beneath the stars, trying to sketch the landscapes that passed them-rolling hills, dense forests, and eventually, the glittering sea.

But no drawing could calm her nerves.

At one point, the party crossed a river.

Soldiers rode ahead, their reflections wavering in the water. Camilla felt a pang of unease as she realized how far they'd come.

Her mother noticed her melancholy and tried to cheer her. "Rome will be magnificent," she said. "Think of the temples, the gardens, the people."

"I'm thinking." Camilla replied, managing a faint chuckle as she raised her eyebrows sarcastically, but her mind wandered. Would they treat her kindly? Would her new husband care for her? She was only seventeen and felt as fragile as the thin veils she wore.

“It will be better in Rome.” Her mother assured, caressing the back of her neck.

Two months later, Rome appeared on the horizon, vast and gleaming under the sun.

She pressed her face to the cool glass of the carriage window, her breath misting it. The city seemed alive-columns of smoke from chimneys, crowds hurrying along wide thoroughfares, a roar of voices that reached even out here.

They swept through the front gates, between statues of giants and banners of crimson and gold. Soldiers were at attention, saluting; people stopped and stretched their necks for a glimpse of the carriage and the so talked new bride.

Camilla's heart pounded as they approached the Palatine Hill, where Julia Domna was waiting.

"Remember," her father whispered, "you are no longer just our daughter. You are the Marcellus legacy."

With fingers intertwined in a vise-like grip, Camilla pressed her nails against the flesh of her hands to avoid breaking into tears. She had hardly touched down in Rome, yet it was almost as if she was being dissected for every move, every fault. She briefly glanced at her father, but his composed demeanor could not calm her spiraling thoughts.

Her unknown groom loomed large in her mind. Who was he? Would he be kind-or cruel? The rumors she had heard about Roman emperors whispered dark fates for their wives. What if he didn't like her? Worse, what if he hurt her? The thought made her shiver.

She cast a glance toward her mother, who, for once, seemed unreadable. Her mother's usual soothing presence felt distant, replaced by an expression Camilla couldn't quite decipher-pride? Worry?

Regret?

The carriage came to a halt, and the footman pulled open the door. Camilla's heart dropped as a wave of hushed silence swept over the gathered crowd. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead, and stepped out into the dazzling sunlight, her mind still tangled with dread and the haunting question: What if he's a monster?

The grand hall was alive with murmurs, the expectations of the gathered senators, politicians, and dignitaries palpable. As the Marcellus family crossed the threshold, they were immediately met by the imposing figures of Julia Domna, the moment she entered the reception hall, the Augusta rose from her seat, her regal presence commanding the room.

She was every inch the powerful matriarch, her eyes sharp with the kind of authority that Camilla had only read about in her philosophical texts. Beside her, the two brothers stood, their faces betraying little of the emotions that might have been roiling beneath their expressions.

Caracalla, as always, stood slightly apart, his gaze steady but distant, as though he was sizing up the entire situation before making a move. He was known for his ambition, his need to dominate, but Camilla had heard whispers of his charm, of the way his confidence could make one feel seen-something that intrigued her, even though she had never spoken a word to him.

Geta, on the other hand, stood at Julia's side, quieter, perhaps more reserved in the shadows of his brother's more dominant presence. There was something about Geta's calm demeanor that left her unsure of where she stood.

Camilla's father, Lucius Marcellus, stepped forward, bowing deeply. His voice carried the practiced deference of a provincial noble addressing Rome's most powerful family.

"To the most revered Augusta Julia Domna and the noble Caesars, Imperatores Marcus Aurelius Antoninus and Publius Septimius Geta, the Marcellus family of Lusitania humbly presents itself."

Julia Domna's gaze, sharp and discerning, lingered on Camilla. A faint smile crossed her lips as she studied the young bride.

Lucius gestured gently toward his daughter, who stood hesitantly by her mother's side, clutching her cloak.

"May I present my daughter, Camilla Marcellus, who humbly comes to serve the imperial household and Rome itself."

Camilla gently bowed her head, her heart racing under the weight of so many eyes. She dared not lift her gaze to meet the imperious stares of the Caesars at either side of Julia Domna, though she could feel their scrutiny like a physical force.

After the family’s introduction, the Augusta graciously acknowledged their presence, “Senator Marcellus, Lady Marcellus, and your esteemed daughter, we welcome you to Rome, the eternal city that now looks forward to a union strengthening our shared destinies. Your presence honors us."

Her tone was regal yet approachable, she glanced meaningfully at Camilla as she continued,

"The journey from Lusitania is not a small one. You must be fatigued, yet you stand before us with grace. A testament, no doubt, to your noble lineage and fortitude."

Camilla’s grip on her robes tightens, raising her head to lock her eyes with her piercing ones,

Lucius gestures to their servants to bring the gifts forward.

Each item was meticulously unwrapped to showcase the Marcellus family's wealth and allegiance. He smiled proudly and spoke again,

"These, Augusta, are humble tokens of our reverence for Rome, for your illustrious family, and for the union that will further strengthen our bond with the dynasty."

Julia Domna and the brothers inspected the gifts with a keen eye, nodding approvingly.

There was a moment of silence as the gifts were presented, but the tension in the room was palpable. Camilla felt her palms grow clammy under the weight of the situation. Her eyes flickered to the two brothers - Caracalla first, who watched her with an air of quiet amusement. His sharp eyes lingered on her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Then, her eyes flickered to Geta, who stood silently beside their mother, his posture more reserved but no less imposing. He regarded her with a sense of seriousness that made her wonder if he knew more than he was letting on.

Julia Domna held up her hand, signaling for quiet. The room settled into an eerie silence. Her gaze, cool and calculating, swept over the two brothers, then to Camilla, and finally back to the Lusitanian family.

"It is truly a great honor to have you here, Camilla. The question remains, however.." Her voice dropped to a more playful tone, "..which of my sons will you be marrying?"

At this, Camilla's breath caught in her throat. She had known for months that this marriage was arranged, that it was political, but until now, she had never been told which son she would marry. Her mind raced as she turned to her father, but he gave her no reassurance. He simply watched the scene unfold, his face unreadable.

Julia's smile widened as she watched the confusion spread across Camilla's face.

The air was thick with tension, and Camilla's heart seemed to thump painfully in her chest.

And then, Julia Domna, clearly enjoying every second of the suspense, finally broke the silence with a voice that seemed to stretch the moment to its limits. "Well, then," she said, her smile now almost imperceptible, "I think we've kept the decision in suspense long enough."

She turned to Camilla, her eyes glimmering with mischief. "The decision has been made. But you shall not know which son will be your husband just yet."

The Empress's laugh, soft but chilling, rippled through the room, leaving Camilla with no choice but to nod, unsure of whether her future would lie with Caracalla's brash confidence or Geta's quiet composure.

The game, it seemed, had just begun.

lmk if u wanna get tagged ! | tags : @quuinyoung @mewchiili @darkwhisperswolf @peakygirl1919 @madmads007 @eirone-and-cheese @kitkat80

[aspiringsophrosyne]

The Mighty Nein: Weird Coincidences.

I've been compiling these here and there when I've had time, but there was a particular reason I wanted to get this post out of the way now. And it's this.

There's been some nervousness surrounding this, and I'm of two minds about it. On the one hand, people overstate just how hard the Nein's story would be to adapt and how much it would need to be changed for another medium. Can it be one-to-one with the original? Absolutely not. (Just as TLOVM couldn't be one-to-one either.) But the main issue is editing; the content is fine on its own.

And if this is the CRew themselves thinking the same thing, that's a little troubling, because it makes it sound like they might be changing more than they need to out of that unfounded fear.

On the other hand, all they might be talking about here is hindsight. The Mighty Nein's Campaign had a lot of strange coincidences, fortuitous thematic consistencies, and one-of-a-kind moments. The CRew is poised to reap the benefits of having these in mind ahead of time. This allows for some remarkable set-up and payoff if those involved are up to the challenge. Which, in the end, could be all they might be augmenting the story to do.

So maybe it's a good time to get into those weird coincidences, huh?

(Spoilers for basically all of Campaign 2 below the cut.)

Names

Veth Brenatto, her alias Bren, and Caleb’s original name: Bren. (This may have been inspired by the German word "Brennen",  which means “to burn”. Thanks Liam.)

Fjord Stone. Cad’s families: Clay, Dust and Stone. How the Wild Mother fits the story of an orphaned sailor like a glove. And how Cad, his family history, and likely the Wild Mother herself never would’ve entered the story if Molly hadn’t died.

A Mollymawk (spelled with a w instead of a u) is a type of albatross. Albatrosses are supposed to be unlucky, but only if you kill one. Per the Rime of the Ancient Mariner, everything goes to shit after a sailor kills an albatross. Molly’s death is just as unlucky, as it paves the way for Lucien's and Cognouza’s return. (In a meta sense, it’s also unfortunate for Matt and Taliesin, as it derails whatever plans they might have had for the character.)

Nine

Whelp.

Nine. Lots and lots of nines. And while Nein doesn’t mean nine in German/Zemnian (it means no), the wordplay works.

Nine schools of magic.

Nine people killed in Obann’s attack on the Cobalt Soul in Zadash.

The three titans (Uk’otoa, Quajath, and Desirat) collectively have nine eyes and nine crystals to unlock them and set them all free.

Nine hells.

Nine betrayer gods as of Vecna’s ascension.

Nine eye tattoos on Molly, each a mark of the Somnovem, the sleeping nine.

And of course, eventually, nine members of the Mighty Nein.

(Just for fun, Tharizdun’s sacred number in its premier in Greyhawk was 333. [3+3+3=?].)

Nein and its actual meaning work thematically as well. The Nein repeatedly clashes with forces and entities that want to mold them against their will into vessels they can use for their own purposes. And the group repeatedly says “Nein!” to that.

Tarot Readings

Molly deliberately pulls specific cards for his readings. Taliesin makes that explicit. However, some folks have pointed out that you can interpret his original reading for Jester where he tells her “You’ve already found what you’re looking for,” to be true in a few different ways. (She’s already found the people who will help her find her father. She’s discovered the company she sought that she only ever had with her Mamma and the Traveler prior, etc.)

But once we get to Jester’s readings, things really pop off. (Pop-pop off?)

Fjord's Reading

In episode 110, Jester draws two cards for Fjord: one for his present and one for his future. His present card is the Eye, which has two hands holding an eye above a restless sea.

There’s no need to elaborate on how that relates to Fjord’s then-present.

His future card is the Home And Traveler. This card could work for all the Nein if you interpret it as someone who will find or reach their home after some travel. But it hits especially hard for Fjord, who finds a home with Jester, the devotee of the Traveler, on a ship that travels up and down the coast.

And then...

Lucien's Reading

The three cards Jester pulls for Lucien are his past, present, and future. Even at the time, they seem pretty fitting.

His past: History and a Dream, which Taliesin clarifies as depicting the Calamity. This fits perfectly with the Tomb Takers’ previous job for DeRogna and their coming into the Somnovem’s patronage.

His present: the Tyrant. We don’t know either Lucien or his goals too well at this point, but we do know he and his troupe kill indiscriminately and he holds an unnatural sway over the other Tomb Takers.

His future: the Death Card. You can attribute that to the upcoming fight between him and the Nein.

But in hindsight...whoo boy. In hindsight, not only do we know of Lucien’s plans to dispatch the Somnovem and become the Tyrant king of Cognouza and all its lost, broken souls, but we know of his fall. More specifically, who he falls to.

Jester, sitting across from him, pulls his last card and tells him “Facing you is Death.”

And then it’s Miss Lavorre who ends him for good.

Divine Intervention

Generally, a Divine Intervention is a Hail Mary. You roll a d100 (or an equivalent combination of dice) and only if you roll a number below your level do you trigger it. Logically, this gets easier the higher your level gets, but you can’t rely on it until level 20.

Taliesin rolls three of these for Cad in the last quarter of the Campaign. And that’s cool enough. But what’s even better is the Wild Mother’s Grave Cleric rolls successfully for Divine Intervention every time he makes a request (knowingly or not) relating to Cognouza. The city that's coming to swallow Melora's Exandria whole.

The first successful roll comes when Cad seeks info about Vokodo, the pseudo-god of the island of Rumblecusp. Vokodo, it turns out, punched a hole through the Astral Plane to escape the hunger of the lost ward of Aeor. And upon its death, it gives a vision that sets the Nein on Lucien’s trail.

The second success comes when the Nein is attempting to uncover the Tomb Takers' secret entrance to Aeor so that they can use it to set a trap. Cad’s success tells them exactly where they need to go. This allows them to get Zoran, Otis, and Tyffial out of the way early, even if it doesn’t stop Cree and Lucien from continuing towards the city.

As for the third, well...we all know what the third does. That it prevails after Critical Role’s first Resurrection Ritual failure, (due to a natural 1 no less!) is just the icing on the cake.

Caduceus even makes the point that Cognouza had functionally become a corpse that was unable to die and that he was uniquely called upon, given his family’s business, to put it down for good.

Odds and Ends

Nott distracts a Manticore from killing Fjord by killing its baby. Her own child ends up in need of a resurrection later on in the story, during their trip to the Fire Plane. Speaking of which, a painting of said Plane can be observed in Trent's house. You know, the one he would end up chasing the Nein to?

Fjord loses his chance to break the first seal to Avantika; he lands the first attack on her Revenant incarnation when the Nein catches up to her after she escapes with his orb, and he gets the final blow on her there, recovering said orb as he does.

Yasha and Caleb are the most susceptible to the Succubus/Incubus mind control. In the former's case, this could be chalked up to her low Wisdom score...but it also serves as some neat accidental foreshadowing for her time with Obann. And for Caleb, it can be a callback to his time learning under Trent.

The Circus Kids' stories sync up perfectly. Both of their bodies end up puppeteered by someone from their respective pasts. Both of them are used to try to end the world. And, probably once Matt noticed this synchronicity himself, both are revealed to have fallen under the sway of the Chained Oblivion. And their stories didn't have to go this way. Molly didn't have to die, and Matt revealed that Yasha could've theoretically made that wisdom save against Obann's control in the King's Cage. But that's not how things turned out.

Accidental foreshadowing:

Episode 19, Molly and Yasha, after acquiring an item from an Orc hermit living somewhat off the side of the road:

Molly: We made a friend. Jester: Did you kill someone for that? Molly: Yes. Yasha: He’s dead. Molly: He’s very dead. And then he rose up from the grave again and we had to kill him again. Twice. Same man.

Also, in episode 23, after meeting the Syphilis Bandits again and leaving one of them out cold:

Jester: What if we put some flowers in his hair; so when he wakes up, he looks really pretty? Beau: That’s good. Let’s do that. Molly: There’s nothing better than waking up in the morning with no pants and flowers in your hair.

In episode 48, Yussa and Caleb have a conversation:

Caleb: Sometimes I follow my friends places I shouldn’t. Yussa: That might someday get you killed. Or may one day get you what you seek.

Following a certain Tiefling up to Eiselcross got him both.

Nott also asks Caleb in this episode if he has an eye on his forehead. This is probably a callback/joke about Scanlan’s blessing from Ioun, but it foreshadows what happens to Veth much later.

Episode 49, about Ludinus Da’leth and in particular, Vess DeRogna:

Fjord: Then we kill the two elves. Jester: Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Maybe we go up into their room at night or something and just, you know... Stabby stab.

Episode 70:

Jester (to Essek): Maybe you’ll like us so much you’ll just hang out.

Dramatic Irony:

Everything the Nein say about Molly after his death and at his grave is, in hindsight, an awful twist of the knife, as his body's former life is far from finished with him.

Episode 41. The Nein learns Orly can make magic tattoos. Beau talks about getting an eye tattoo on her back to mirror Molly’s:

Jester: I mean, I don’t know, maybe it was really sacred to him and he would be really super offended by it. Beau: Oh, yeah, maybe it would, like I stole it from him? Jester: But it’s fine, I’m sure. Beau: Yeah, you know, he’s dead, so, what’s he going to do?

Almost a hundred episodes later, Beau's new tattoo gets a little addition...

Episode 65

Jester: Are you nervous? Yasha: Yeah. Yeah, I’m nervous. I just don’t know what we’re walking into, you know? Jester: Yeah. We’ve got your back though. That guy isn’t going to do anything bad to you.

Episode 91

Veth asks Essek at dinner if he’s heard of a Nonagon, or someone named Lucien. Essek says he hasn’t. This won't be the case for long.

Episode 95

Jester, talking about Cad and the Wild Mother:

Jester: Yeah. So like, when he asks her questions, you know what she does? Artagan: “Nothing?” Jester: She blows the wind. Exactly, she does shit. So and he’s like, “I sensed, you know, I understand what she’s saying.” She’s not doing anything, but he thinks she is.

This commentary is particularly delicious, considering which Cleric's Divine Interventions end up working.

And there's probably some I've missed! These are just the little bits and pieces I jotted down during a rewatch. It wouldn't surprise me if there's more.

But that's to say, just what we've got here is a monumental amount of things to build off of and play with. The Mighty Nein's animated series has the potential to be something extraordinary if the CRew can make use of all these little gifts deftly and with subtlety. There's power and potential here, and I am nervous as hell about whether or not they can tap into it successfully.

[eth3real-ess3nce]

PICK A ♡ PILE - THREE MONTH LOVE FORECAST

Top left (1) , Top right (2) , Bottom left (3) , Bottom right (4)

Enjoy!

PILE 1

This reading is meant for you if one of more of these apply: ♡ you have been planning your Christmas holidays (2-3 months prior) ♡ you were born in March or April ♡ life path 3 6 or 8 ♡ someone close to you (or you) is named Christina ♡ summer is your favourite season ♡ you hate coffee ♡ it's your last year of high school or college ♡ you own a cat ♡ you are from Asia or dream of visiting Asia / Eastern Asia ♡ you love Starbucks ♡ you see angel number 333 ♡ you used to love Bratz or Monster high ♡ I see you regaining your confidence, how lovely! Many of you have been thinking about making changes to your appearance & you will make these thoughts come true. You will be PAMPERED by the universe. Feels good to finally spoil yourself, huh? Totally! And because of the radiance your glow up offers you, you are going to attract multiple "knights" who will want to add to it. I see material gifts, thoroughly planned dates and tokens of appreciation in your future. Many of you will be meeting new potential love interests during Christmas holidays. Please be careful of lovebombers. Now it isn't the case for everybody of course, since it's a collective reading. But if you notice that someone is making big promises early on and you feel uncomfortable with it, listen to your gut please. For many of you, there might be a third person you don't know about. And whether you know about the third person , please avoid getting entangled in such situations as it won't end well for you..I'm saying this with love Being showered with gifts and being treated like a queen is amazing , but just be aware of the hidden agendas. In cases a third person doesn't exist, they will attempt to lure you in by pretending that you are everything you ever asked for. Keep your lovely eyes open! ✨ 💗 Zodiac signs mostly present/related: Taurus, Leo, Cancer (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 2

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ Life path 5 or the number 5 on your birth date ♡ you are christian or muslim ♡ you wear earphones most of the time ♡ your favourite colour is a shade of blue ♡ you have sensitive stomach or food intolerances ♡ you drop things on the floor easily lately ♡ you like to draw, you use black&white filters on pictures a lot ♡ you live near a thrift shop ♡ your name ends with an "e" ♡ you have practised art before like drama or sculpting I feel that this is my heartbroken pile. I want to start by giving you a BIG warm hug and try to offer you the sweetest, most encouraging words possible today. I'm sensing some type of betrayal here whether it's literal or emotional. You tend to overgive to people close to you, even if they don't deserve it. You are tired of feeling taken advantage of. You feel that so much is owed to you and you definitely have the right to feel this way. You have been stepped over and over again. This is the time where you will be given the decision to put an end to these energies. Some of you might be still entangled in situations where they drain your soul and your light , others might have walked away but are still trying to pick up the pieces of their hearts & heal.. It seems very difficult for you, because making the decision to prioritise yourself & your needs is something brand new to you. You never thought you were supposed to put yourself first before ; to think that your physical mental, emotional wellbeing must come first. My dear pile 2, I know you are seeking a glimpse of hope in today's reading but I ought to be 100% honest with you. Dating is not what is meant for you right now. You are going through one of the deepest spiritual transformations in your life currently and I am not exaggerating. You are still learning how to perceive yourself as someone who is human with needs and desires, and NOT as a doormat for others to step conveniently on. "But is there hope for me to find love?" Yes. I see that happening later than sooner, though. When you will be coming out of your "winter" phase in your life ; with your healed scars and with confidence you never even imagined you'd possess before. The future holds endless, limitless blessings for you, pile 2. All the power & courage you're seeking is within. Zodiac signs mostly present/related: Pisces & Sagittarius (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 3

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ you have short hair ♡ life path 9 or have 9 on your date of birth ♡ one of your parents or siblings has aries placements ♡ you traveled inside USA in the past month ♡ you own a green jacket ♡ you are an athlete ♡ your chart is water or air dominant ♡ your name or last name starts with an "M" ♡ you have trouble sleeping lately ♡ you have neon lights in your bedroom ♡ you prefer older guys (I don't blame you) ♡ one of your favourite artists is Taylor swift, Jhene Aiko, Beyoncé ♡ you have tattoo(s) on your wrists/hands ♡ you stay home a lot lately Currently, it seems that you prefer your solitude. Many of you have given up on dating, you feel defeated in some way. You are extra picky with people (as you should) , as you can clearly see through them & make correct judgements about them often. Some of you might have been practicing abstinence, you are spiritually isolated and you are single by choice. I see you living your truth and stand firmly on your beliefs, even if it comes off harsh or weird to others. You don't care. 😉 In the next three months: Initially, you will stay this way. It's very likely that for some of you a past lover might return and even offer closure. You will have reflected a lot on past mistakes that were made & since you took time off the dating pool, you will be able to make healthy choices for yourself. And also, to say "no" to what doesn't serve you. Dear pile 3, I agree it's good to be highly selective, but I see here that many of you struggle when it comes to receiving. You might be looking at those videos where girls are getting princess treatment, flowers, etc. from their boyfriends and you deeply yearn for it. I know some of you won't even admit it 😅 But it's PERFECTLY fine to desire those things. You deserve to be properly loved & cherished. Allow this into your life when the opportunity presents itself, because I assure you it will. Something passionate is in the cards for you. You won't expect it and you won't expect with whom it will happen. You might know (or get to know) this person & not like them at first, but then sparks will begin to ignite. Mark my words. I'm sensing heavy air energy from this pile, woah. (gemini, libra, aquarius) sun moon rising venus. Because of your naturally detached nature, you don't fall in love with just anyone . This time, though , your inner child finally feels safe with someone. This is what your spirit has been asking for. A love that feels like home. Zodiac Signs mostly present/related: Pisces, Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Libra (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 4

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ you braid your hair very often ♡ you're reading this while you are not in your hometown ♡ you were born in 2005,2006,1997 ♡ your father is an attorney ♡ you have leo placements ♡ you come from money ♡ you have heart(s) in your bio ♡ you have dark hair and light eyes ♡ you mostly wear boots ♡ you love Green Day ♡ your venus is in Aries ♡ you have nose ring(s) ♡ your name has two A's ♡ you ate cereal the same day you read this ♡ you have a pet with green eyes ♡ you own a necklace with a crystal/stone ♡ you're half European Hello hello! I must say, this pile is scaring me a bit. So wild! 😳 and so much secrecy... 👀 Pile 4 your love lives never cease to be boring. I can hear you thinking "why am I falling in love with the wrong people" "why do i have to make difficult choices in love". I see.... There are multiple energies coming through so bear with me as I'm going to cover them all ❤️ As I said, I sense so much secrecy here. But during the next 3 months everything will be revealed. Do you have feelings for someone you shouldn't, but you keep it to yourself? You will probably either tell them or they'll know. Someone from your friend group or class has a crush on you? You will definitely discover it. Do you have an affair behind someone's back? Baby.. it will be known. Does the person you are involved with know that you don't want something serious? It's time for them to learn... I don't seek to be strict, only honest and loving with you, so this is why I advise against being reckless, okay? With your heart and others'. One of the first messages that popped up, is **warning against unwanted pregnancies** so pretty please make sure you use protection if you don't plan on getting pregnant!!! 💗 Pile 4, in the next 3 months karma will be served, whether it's good or bad. If you worry, it's not too late to change how things are. You always have free will. It's just the overall energy that I am getting. For example, if you don't want your crush to know that you like them, then they won't. BUT, opportunities will present themselves.. just sayin'! It's your choice, always. Expect those changes to occur during the next mercury retrograde (December 13th if you're reading this before that date). I advise you to be on your best behaviour, pile 4!!! I know "forbidden love" situations & mind games are giving you adrenaline and meaning in life... but it's not the time to act up if you want to be free of consequences 😳 And for those of you who know you're doing nothing wrong, I got you. Someone is absolutely infatuated with you but something is holding them back. I have channeled a few clues for you ❤️ : "dark hair" "Scorpio" "19 (could be age or numbers at their date of birth)" "Works in retail" "Initials J or D" "has a flag/scarf of their favourite football team in their room" "met at a party" "subtle ways to have physical contact with you" "had a cringe emo phase a while ago" "has randomly bought you food before" Does it ring a bell?? Zodiac Signs mostly present/related: Aquarius, pisces, Scorpio (sun, moon, rising or venus)

[zoeykallus]

Hello there!

Would you mind giving us something angsty? Like, Reader confesses her love to the batchers (and maybe Rex and Mayday?). They do feel the same, but they react in the wrong way somehow, so that reader gets hurt, but in the end there is something like a happy end? Like separate little short fics or one-shots.

I know that's probably a lot of work, so please don't feel pressured to do this.

Aloha! Yeah, I think I can do that 😊

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 1/7 - Tech

Warnnings: Love Confessions/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

Masterlist Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

AC: I tried to tackle this one with the thought in mind that Tech is/might be in some autistic spectrum. Now please don't throw any stones at me, I have no real life experience on that subject, so I kinda wrote this one the way I feel Tech after almost three season.

You've had feelings for him for a while now. Your heart beats faster, you feel warm when he approaches you and your eyes meet. You could listen to him day and night, no matter what he talks about. You think a part of him knows this, must know it, because when he discovers something new and wants to tell someone about it, he usually comes to you automatically. Because you listen to him attentively, every time. Your feelings go beyond friendship, you long to be close to him, you miss him every second he's not around. But you know Tech is somehow different. Sometimes he's very forthcoming, seems to enjoy being around you, but other times, he's more distant, almost as if he's trying to keep you at arm's length, as if he can't handle your presence right now. You have no idea how exactly to assess this behavior, it often feels like a roller coaster ride. It's not always easy to deal with and adjust to. But you want to do the right thing, so you don't push him when you realize he's pulling away, even if it hurts.

But one day, you summon up all your courage. Tech and you are working on damage to the outer hull of the Marauder. Until just now, he was telling you about his idea to improve the alloy for the metal of the outer hull and how he plans to make certain modifications to the ship in the future. Now, however, there is a brief pause, and you continue to work in silence. Your gaze wanders thoughtfully from his helmet, which is resting on a toolbox behind him, back to him Your heart is pounding in your throat, your hands are even shaking a little as you decide to finally tell him, to tell him how you feel about him. "Tech?" His name comes over your lips, almost like a whisper. He heard you, though. Normally he would answer you and listen without looking up from his work, but something about the way you say his name catches his attention this time. He pauses, turns his head in your direction and looks at you, his eyes widening a little. "What's wrong?"

His gaze, those beautiful eyes, like dark brown amber. Your knees go weak. You try to hold his gaze, but every now and then, you blink and look to the side before looking at him again as you speak. "There's something I need to tell you" His brows move up questioningly. "Is it something important?" You hesitate for a second before saying, "I guess it's a matter of opinion. It's very important to me" Surprised, you watch as Tech puts down his tools and turns to you. "Then let me hear it," he says promptly. Now you have his undivided attention. Your stomach is tingling, your heart is doing wild tricks in your chest. Your mouth goes dry, and you hastily reach for the water bottle to take a few sips. As you put the bottle down, your hand trembles so much that you can barely put the bottle down properly. Tech doesn't miss this, of course, his brows draw together in concern, but he waits silently for you to tell him. "I have feelings for you," you suddenly say so quickly, with a look on your face as if you were ripping off a band-aid. Then you smile nervously, inwardly cursing at yourself.

He stands there, motionless, and looks at you. Occasionally he blinks. You don't know what you were expecting, but some kind of reaction would have been nice. You nervously hold your breath.

"Romantic?" he finally asks after what feels like an eternity.

You finally dare to breathe again. He sounds thoughtful, confused, maybe even overwhelmed, but you can't quite put your finger on it right now, your own thoughts and your heartbeat are so incredibly loud.

"Yes, Tech. You know, accelerated pulse when you're near me, tingly feeling in my stomach, the need to be close to you, to want to please you. Bittersweet nervousness..."

For a moment, he looks at you as if you have a rare disease that might be contagious, and your stomach tightens at the sight. You regret saying a single word. "I'm not sure how to deal with this," he says thoughtfully, averting his eyes, "I can't... process" You can't help but stare at him helplessly. You feel the blood drain from your face, and your whole body suddenly seems to become much heavier. You swallow and say in a helpless attempt to pretend everything is okay, "It's okay, Tech, we don't have to talk about it" You turn back to your work, avert your gaze, and you miss Tech's confused, questioning look as he asks, "Don't we have to? You said it's important to you" "No," you say and put the tool to work, "We don't have to, everything can just stay the way it was before" He looks at you silently for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, before resuming his work. _______ Over the next few days, you hardly speak a word, in fact you avoid him. You feel like an idiot, hurt and exposed. The thought that Tech knows about your feelings makes you feel like you're walking around naked and every one of his questioning, scrutinizing glances weighs heavily on you.

One evening, as you sit alone in the cockpit, you hear someone walk toward you, and by now you can already tell that Tech is approaching by the sound of his footsteps. You shrink into the co-pilot's seat and focus obsessively on the datapad in your hands. As he says your name, your shoulders shrink down, you try to make yourself even smaller, you don't look up as you answer, "Yes?" His voice sounds soft, but still in his very own matter-of-fact way, as he says, "A few days ago, when you told me about your feelings, you said we didn't have to talk about it and everything could be the same. But it's not. You're avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I realized that my first reaction made you feel insecure, probably even gave you the wrong impression. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is the same as before and that there is a real need to talk about it" You sigh softly and ask, "Is there something on your mind?" Instead of answering, Tech leans down towards you. Surprised and a little startled, your eyes do wander in his direction. He kisses your cheek gently and chastely, then sits down in the pilot's seat.

Your fingers automatically move to the spot where his lips touched your cheek, leaving a soft, tingling sensation. You feel warm, but at the same time you are confused and can't help but stare at him questioningly. "After some time to process what I've heard, said and felt, I've realized that these feelings are apparently mutual. I hope that's not a problem" You blink several times and straighten up a little in your seat. A soft smile at the corners of your mouth. "That's not a problem, Tech, not at all" He nods, smiling. "Good, so we can explore this new territory together, right?" You resist the urge to fall around his neck, you know that Tech processes things differently, especially in the interpersonal sphere, that he takes longer and values physical contact very differently. You nod, your smile a little wider. "I'd love to, Tech," you say softly. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest with joy as he reaches for your hand, tentatively at first, but eventually with gentle determination. With a cautious smile, he says, "I hope you'll be patient with me" You laugh softly, gently, and beam at him as you reply, "I have all the time in the world for you, Tech"

[becauseimanicequeen]

The Timelines in 4 Minutes

Since the Olympics are finally over, and I have three episodes of 4 Minutes to go on, I thought I would spend some time trying to figure out the timelines.

I'm someone who figures out what I want to say by writing it out, so this post will most likely be me "thinking out loud" and drawing conclusions as I go, and then, at the end, I'll have a clearer view of the timelines (hopefully).

(This is most likely going to be one long-ass post, so beware.)

Let's start with some initial notes before I dive into the fun stuff.

The contents of this post may be influenced by some of my theories (pre-premiere theories, episode 1, episode 2, episode 3), and I might come up with new ones as I write this post (they will be highlighted in purple so possible readers of this mammoth post can choose to ignore them if they want, lol), but my focus is primarily on the timelines themselves and, perhaps, on the passing of time throughout the episodes as well.

As I start this post, I believe there are 3 timelines (which are subject to change as I continue to write):

The present timeline, which is what starts off both the 1st and the 2nd episodes (these are events from the future from our current vantage point).

The 4-minute timeline, which is where Great changes things (I've previously called this the OOBE timeline, since I believe Great is having an out-of-body experience and is "reliving" his past).

Then there's a possible third timeline (I've previously thought it might've been the real past, which showed us events that actually happened in the past paralleled with the 4-minute timeline) but I'm most unsure about this one, so I'll just call it the 3rd timeline until my thoughts are more clear about it.

Now... Where the hell do I start?

Time

It might be a good idea to start with the clues that there are different timelines at play and then dive deeper into the episodes to figure out what's happening.

Besides the obvious clues that Great is sent back in time when he has his moments of the 4-minute phenomenon (4MP), there are other clues that different timelines are at play.

The first clue shows up in the Korn and Tonkla scene from the 1st episode and all the way through to the scene where Korn drops Great off at his place after their family dinner.

This is where I'll be crazy about the details (but I'm a hundred percent sure they matter, especially since this whole show is about time), but if we look at Korn's watch when he arrives at Tonkla's place, it says 7:15-ish pm.

Later, when Tonkla wants a second round, it says 8:55 pm.

Then they get interrupted because Korn's dad wants him home for dinner. They have their family dinner, and then, when Korn drops Great off at his condo after dinner, Korn's watch says 7:15-ish while the clock on Great's phone says 07:13.

(Great already has issues with time, which I believe is the effect of him having a cardiac arrest at 11:00 in the present, but the time anomaly in this particular sequence is different than Great seeing 11:00 and counting when he's alone.)

This whole sequence is meant to be the same day Great hit Manee with his car. All of them (even the dad and Great's mom) are wearing the same clothes they wore when introduced throughout that very same day. Yet, the times on the visible watches and clocks tell us something strange is going on.

(Could this just be me overanalyzing the watches and clocks? Sure. But the interesting thing is that the time is still consistent in the sequence with Korn and Tonkla. It would make sense that they talk, then fuck, and then lie there butt ass naked and cuddling for a total of 1 h 40 min. And, again, considering this show is about time, I trust that the creators have been meticulous about those details, even if it means changing the time on the watches and clocks for every new take if needed.)

Considering what I wrote above, I might start calling the 3rd timeline Tonkla's timeline, because I feel like it revolves around him.

Either way, I will focus on the 4-minute timeline and the third one in particular because I don't see a possible 4th one right now (I might by the end of this post, though, lol).

The question is, then, how we can determine which scenes belong to which timelines. I will get to that further below, because first...

Let’s look at some more details I’ve noticed.

Blurry Edges

One of those details is the dreamy, blurry edges (I'm sure there's a technical term for this, but I have no idea what that might be, I'm just guessing that they're adding it in post-production, but don't quote me on that). Much of the show has a dreamy feel overall, but I'm talking about the blurry edges in particular.

I've noticed blurry edges in the following scenes:

When Great feels iffy in the elevator (ep 1)

I'm pretty sure there's some of it happening in the scene when Tyme is treating Manee, both in the ER and in the OR during the surgery (ep 1)

At the family dinner when Great's mom tells him he should go see Manee at the hospital (ep 1)

When Great feels iffy at the hospital before his second 4MP (ep 1)

When Great is sitting in Title's car talking about where View is (ep 2)

I'm not sure about this one since it's hard to tell because it's dark, but it might be used in the scene where Title beats the shit out of Dome (ep 2)

When Great brings Dome into the hospital (ep 2)

When Korn is having a meeting with Fasai and her dad (ep 2)

When Great feels iffy and has his fourth 4MP at the basketball court (ep 3)

When Win reads through Tonkla's brother's social media posts and comments, which is a memory of him doing it (ep 3)

And I'm pretty sure we're getting more of this since there were scenes in the trailer that had those blurry edges as well, for example:

The pattern I'm seeing with these scenes (if we exclude the first scene in the elevator, Korn's meeting with Fasai, and Win's memories, the latter might've had blurry edges just because it was his memory, btw) is that each scene has something to do with Great's 4MP, before the rewind and/or after the rewind.

(Perhaps the reason for the blurry edges showing up in Korn's scene is because he's the possible third character that's having an OOBE. And if this theory is true, there's a possibility that there's yet another timeline/reality/perspective present that entwines with both Tonkla's and Great's timelines.)

There are also the tilting camera shots (mostly showing up in scenes with Great), which I might get into next week as I continue to build on this post.

But, what does all this with the blurry edges mean?

I have no fucking clue.

Perhaps it's just meant to show that things aren't what they seem. Perhaps it's meant to show which characters are experiencing OOBEs (Great, Tyme, and possibly Korn)? Perhaps it's meant to show moments that are affected by Great changing them through his 4MP? Again, I have no fucking clue, yet (but it might start to get clearer as we get more episodes).

So, moving on...

Different Realities/Parallel Worlds/POVs?

There is another aspect to this whole timelines discussion I'm having with myself that I want to bring up. And that's the clues I've found that support the possibility of different realities/parallel worlds/different point-of-views. I'm not sure what to call them, yet.

So, let's dive into the moments I'm referring to and try and figure it out.

The second time Great experiences his 4MP, he goes to the ER's front desk and we're shown the nurse's actual desk where there's a clock that we're supposed to focus on because it's telling us that time will do weird shit again.

The moment Great has been sent back in time (after being in Manee's room), he's standing in the same position, looking down at the clock on the desk, and realizes it's happened again (just like when he hit Manee). However, this time, the things on the desk are different.

The time on the clock is the same, but the mirror is in a different position, 75 has turned to 74 (I'm not sure what these numbers mean), 77F has turned to 76F (which I'm guessing are Fahrenheit degrees), and the pink, blue, and yellow papers are lying on top of the folder the second time around.

If Great was sent back in time to the exact moment he was in before he went to Manee's room, the things on the desk would've been in the same place, right? So, he might not even have been sent back to the reality he was in before this 4MP happened.

Another clue is the sunrise and the sunset artworks on the wall at the hospital. We often see them by the entryway:

Then, in the 2nd episode, it looks like at least the right one is hanging outside Manee's room (which we've seen isn't anywhere near the front desk since Great had to walk around a bend to get to her room in the first episode).

Could they have more than one of those artworks in the hospital? Sure. So, take this with a grain of salt.

(Btw, I find those artworks so fascinating because sunrises are usually cooler (more blueish) while sunsets are usually warmer (more red/orangeish). But from our perspective, looking at them straight on, the warmer artwork has the sun setting in the west while the cooler artwork has the sun rising in the east. And, since the eye in left-to-right reading cultures often automatically goes from left to right, it's interesting that the sunset comes first and then the sunrise. Perhaps it's to show that the world is turned upside down now that Great is having these weird experiences. Or perhaps it's to show that the time between the sunset and sunrise will be important for Great and Tyme since Great watches Tyme pass those artworks (from sunset to sunrise) the first time he has visions of them having sex. But, I digress...)

Another set of clues is in the scene with Great and Tyme sitting on the bleachers by the basketball court and Great has another 4MP in the third episode.

The first time we see this wide shot, there are 5 people (excluding Great and Tyme):

4 of them are wearing white shirts (one with a darker cardigan), and they sit on Great's side. One wears a blue shirt and sits on Tyme's side. This is where Great asks Tyme why he didn't call before coming to the University.

As they continue to talk (and the camera shot is closer to them), you can see the top of the head of a girl walking towards the bleachers. There's also another person walking by, waving, but he's walking right past them rather than towards the bleachers.

Then, as Great thanks Tyme for the Thai tea and gets up to leave, we get this wide shot. The only difference here is that the girl who walked towards the bleachers is now sitting next to her friend. That seems logical, right?

But, then Great has his rewind, and he comes back to the moment where Tyme reminds Great to get his wound treated. Great tells Tyme about his precognition and Tyme tells Great that he will consult with one of his doctor friends. Then, as Tyme stands up to leave, we get this wide shot:

The two girls at the bottom left are in the same position but the girls two steps above and to the far left are different, the boy and the girl next to them are new, and the boy with the white shirt to the right is the same boy that sat on Great's side previously.

Coincidence?

Well... After Tyme tells Great that he can call him Tyme rather than Doctor, and Great says that they should grab something to eat after he gets his wound treated, we get this shot:

Now we're back to the original two girls to the left, there are new boys wearing black on the bottom left, and the boy in blue is back again. That's a lot of moving around in such a short time.

The only things that stay consistent in all of the shots are the bags (except for one of them) and bottles.

So, what's going on? Is this another one of those things that happened at the hospital where Great was sent back to a reality where things were different from the reality he was in before the 4MP?

Is the show giving us different perspectives? For example, Great's perspective before his 4MP, Tyme's perspective when he says he'll talk to Den, and Great's perspective again when Tyme has left? That could work for the hospital example as well since it was from Great’s perspective before the 4MP but turned into Tyme’s after the 4MP as he asked the nurse at the front desk who the guy that bumped into him was.

Or is the show just underlining how strange everything is during the 4-minute timeline (and Great's possible OOBE)?

Well, the latter might not be it because clues like this don't just show up when Great is around.

In the first episode when Korn comes to Tonkla's place, Tonkla's laptop shows he has something blue and yellow on his screen:

Then the screen is black as if it's been turned off:

Later, when it cuts to them lying naked on the sofa, it's just white:

Also, notice how the small spotlight behind the desk is positioned differently and pointing in another direction on the desk than in the first image above.

Could it be that Tonkla simply used the laptop and moved the lamp between them having sex and lying there? Sure. Again, if we look at Korn's watch from the beginning of this whole sequence (7:15-ish pm) to when Tonkla wants a second round (8:55 pm), we know he had 1 h 40 min to rearrange things and do stuff on that laptop.

But, you know, unless the house is on fire, who would move from that spot on top their sugar daddy who is lying there deliciously naked? And especially to do some stuff on a laptop? Fuck technology (the not-so-good kind of fuck) and fuck your sugar daddy instead (the deliciously bad kind of fuck). We all know Tonkla wants to. But, I digress...

Take this detail with a grain of salt if you want to (or a whole fistful). For me, though, this shows that there's a possibility that changes and inconsistencies like this aren't just happening around Great. And (to my crazy mind, at least), that it might be two timelines showing up throughout this particular sequence between Korn and Tonkla.

24 Hour vs AM/PM Clock Settings

And on the topic of inconsistencies... Another thing I want to point out is the inconsistencies with the digital clocks when it comes to them being 24-hour clocks or set to the am/pm thing.

The hospital seems to have a 24-hour setting in some cases:

But not in others:

This could be in the morning, of course, and the darkness outside Manee's window might just be because of the thunder/lightning storm (but I still think it's night rather than morning).

And then we also have Great (who, to be fair, has a special relationship to time in this show), who sees 11:00/11:02 both in the morning and at night:

And the am/pm thing is on his phone when Korn drops him off:

Even though his phone seems to have the 24-hour setting:

More than once:

But, again, Great clearly has issues with time and clocks/watches. So, this might just be a way to show how confusing it is to him.

But, what if it isn't? What if it's an indication that several realities are entwining? (Okay, I feel like I'm going with the term "realities" when it comes to this.)

My Timelines So Far

So, what are my conclusions after watching the first 3 episodes?

At this point, I think there are 3 timelines:

The present timeline.

The 4-minute timeline.

The real past/Tonkla's timeline (which is meant to show us the real past events that happened, most of it from Tonkla's perspective).

Having Tonkla's timeline be the real past is possible considering the inconsistencies in time during the Korn and Tonkla scene and then the Korn and Great scene in the 1st episode.

And before someone says this doesn't make sense because of all the missed calls Korn has (if anyone is still reading this, lol)... Well, that's because Korn exists in both timelines and the scene when he looks at the missed calls in that bathroom in the 3rd episode:

Could be the 4-minute timeline rather than Tonkla's timeline (the real past). That could make sense because all we've seen of Tonkla since Korn told him off over the phone is him waiting by his phone for Korn to call.

We never saw Tonkla call Korn again after being told off.

On the flip side, if Korn is in the real past when he looks at those missed calls in episode 3, it would make sense that when he wants to call Tonkla while he's waiting for Great at the bar (in the 4-minute timeline), the icons on the top right of his phone are different from the phone he looked at in the bathroom:

(Am I getting too crazy about this? Yes. Do I care? No, because it's fun.)

Could he be using different phones? Yes. Could those icons change depending on where he is and what settings he's using? Sure (I'm not familiar with Samsung phones so I have no idea what most of those icons mean). But it could also mean that we're seeing Korn in different timelines in these two scenes, which makes it possible for Tonkla's timeline to show us the real past.

(I personally prefer the option that the scene with Korn looking at the missed calls is from Tonkla's timeline (the real past) while Korn almost calling Tonkla in the bar, and then smiling at his phone as he's going to the bathroom, is from the 4-minute timeline where Tonkla's brother (who I believe is Dome) hasn't been killed.)

Also, I think showing us the real past is a smart way to show us what leads up to Tonkla beating the shit out of someone.

(I believe that scene is from the real timeline, and whoever he's beating with that rock, might have an effect on the things that are happening right now. I'm not sure what kind of effect, though. Perhaps it's a possible third person experiencing an OOBE and "living" in the 4-minute timeline. Perhaps Great is going through this OOBE to prevent that murder from happening after he wakes up (if he ever does). I'm not sure at this point.)

So, that's where I'm at with the timelines after 3 episodes.

And, when it comes to the inconsistencies in certain scenes, the easy answer is that they are just meant to show that this whole 4-minute timeline is an inconsistent mess of (what I believe to be) Great's OOBE.

But, I would personally find it more interesting if these inconsistencies (like all the people around Great and Tyme changing in that scene at the basketball court) are evidence that there is more than one character experiencing an OOBE and that the inconsistencies shown are there because the characters have different perspectives of the events happening.

Now, I had planned to make a flowchart of the scenes in each episode divided into the three different timelines I've written about above. But, I want to get this post out before the 4th episode drops tomorrow, and I just don't have time to make the flowchart before that (or enough images left in this post to fit something like a flowchart in it before I hit the pesky limit). So I'll wait with that chart until next week instead (when I'll continue to build on this post in a reblog).

Waiting to create and post the flowchart until after the new episode tomorrow also gives me another episode to nerd out about. It's a win-win for me.

[arcane-vagabond]

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter Three

Hanging By a Moment: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after the events of "Don't Hang'em Til Noon," this series follows more of Jake and Scout as they traverse life in the New Mexico territories. Isaac Cassidy's gang is still hanging about, stirring up trouble in the name of their fallen leader. Additionally, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell and your brother, Benjamin, have established rights to a gold mine that's now drawing in more and more unsavory characters. Will you have what it takes to survive the growing danger?

Content Warnings: Talks of business, Talks of unsavory characters, Flirting, Jake being a menace, Bradley being kind of cute, Feelings of being watched, Paranoia, Thunderstorms, Reader gets scared, Cuddling, Talks of the future, and a Proposal. I think that's everything, but please let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 3.4k

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist 1 || Playlist 2

“It’s rather sudden, wouldn’t you say?” You asked Benjamin as he shoved a wad of shirts into one of his suitcases. Rolling your eyes, you stepped into his room, removing the shirts to fold them neatly into a pile as he started in on his pants. “Would you stop shoving everything in? You’re going to have wrinkles in everything by the time you get there.”

Benjamin rolled his eyes, setting his pants down on the bed before crossing his arms over his chest.

“You nag just like Mother used to,” he grumbled. You shot him a dirty look before dropping the shirt in your hands and moving towards the door. Benjamin let out an exasperated growl before grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. Please help me pack.”

You let out a humph and a roll of your eyes as you continued to fold his clothes neatly for him.

“Now why must you go off to San Francisco so suddenly?” You prodded.

“It’ll be good for the business,” he explained. “Mr. Kerner has invited Maverick and me to join him at his firm to go over the essentials and to tour other mines so that we might see how the operations work. Maverick won’t join us until later, but I’ll go ahead to get some of the legal proceedings outs of the way.”

“You’re a lawyer,” you hummed, a frown tugging at your lips, “so why the sudden interest in investing in a gold mine?”

“It’ll be good money, Scout,” he insisted. “It’ll set my children and even yours up for life. Hell, this could be an addition to our legacy, to the life we’ve started out here.”

Financial security was tempting, especially in uncertain times, and while the ranch itself was making money, there was no promise that it would tomorrow. You supposed that it was wise to venture into other pursuits—just in case one of them ended up a failure.

“I can see by the look on your face that you don’t agree,” Benjamin hummed, pursing his lips.

“No, it’s not that,” you grumbled, shaking your head. Benjamin arched a brow in your direction in a silent question, and you let out a long sigh before continuing. “I’m concerned about the safety of this town. News of gold is going to draw in all sorts from all over, and only a fraction of them will have good intentions. Did you consider that?”

Benjamin didn’t respond right away, the thoughts racing through his head almost visible in his eyes. After a moment, he shook his head, moving across the room to gather a couple of items from his dresser.

“You worry too much.”

You scoffed. “You worry too little.”

“That’s why we’re such a great team, baby sister,” he grinned, spinning back around on his heel to face you. “Together, we worry just the right amount.”

You glared at him, though there was no real heat to it.

“Bad things are bound to happen anywhere,” he reasoned with a sigh, plopping down on the bed beside you, arms outstretched across the width of the mattress. “The country is expanding west, Scout. There were already unsavory characters here, as you very well know.”

You did know, the memory of Isaac’s cold, black eyes flashing in your mind and sending a shiver up your spine.

“That doesn’t mean we need to give others more reason to follow suit,” you muttered, picking at some non-existent lint on your skirt. Benjamin let out a long sigh before turning his head to look at you.

“You know,” he drawled thoughtfully, “you could just seduce them all like you did Seresin. I mean, it worked out pretty well last ti-”

Benjamin let out a startled squawk as you brought the pillow down on his face, his arms flailing as he scrambled to sit up as you reared your hand back to hit him again.

“I did not seduce him,” you hissed, trying desperately to hold back your laughter as Benjamin nearly collapsed onto the floor in his frenzy.

“Well, you certainly didn’t stop him,” he snickered, dodging your next blow just in time, cowering as you advanced on him. “In fact, there’s been more than one occasion where I’ve walked in on the two of you engaging in-”

The next blow had him stumbling on his feet. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, the heat running down your neck and to your ears. Benjamin rubbed his jaw, pulling his fingers back to inspect them.

“Kissing,” he said, glancing over at you. “I was going to say kissing. Your guilty conscious gets the better of you, Scout.”

You scowled at him, raising the pillow once more, only stopping once he raised his hands in surrender.

“I yield,” he chuckled, dropping his hands as you dropped yours. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, you know.”

“I’d rather you didn’t say anything,” you retorted, setting the pillow back in its proper place.

“I think it’s good you’ve found happiness out here,” he continued, ignoring your comment. “I’m happy that you’ve managed to find someone who makes you happy rather than someone who you think would make our father happy. Jake is a fairly decent step up from Henry Cargill.”

Your lips puckered at the name. You would have lived comfortably had you chosen to stay behind in Maryland and marry Henry as your late father would have wanted before his death, but you knew you made the right decision in choosing Jake.

Even if he still hadn’t proposed after all these months.

“I have to go run a few things to Penny,” you announced, making a beeline for the door.

“Sure you do,” Benjamin scoffed. “Give my regards to Jake, then.”

The fan in your hand did little to quell the heat of the changing seasons. It was early spring, a time where it was too hot for your winter wardrobe, but still too hot for your summer clothes. Your arm was beginning to hurt from how hard you were fanning yourself, and you closed your eyes to give them a rest from the glare of the sun overhead.

You hated the heat.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

You pried an eye open to see two green ones already on you. You straightened up, turning to face Jake fully as he smirked down at you.

“Jake,” you nodded, managing to keep the eager smile at bay as you batted your eyes up at him.

“You look like you’re roastin’, honey girl,” he chuckled, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Why’d you wear this if it’s gonna have you miserable?”

“I’ll be too cold in my summer clothes,” you explained with a sigh. Jake’s eyes twinkled as his smirk grew lascivious.

“I can think of a few ways to keep you warm,” he purred, a different heat rising to your cheeks at his words. You swatted him with your fan as you glanced around to see if anyone had heard him.

“Behave,” you warned, snapping the fan shut and tapping the end into his chest. He pouted, placing a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

“Me?” He asked, batting his lashes. “You’re accusing me of misbehaving? Well, now I’m hurt.”

“I’m sure you are,” you snorted, withdrawing your hand to continue fanning yourself. Jake watched you for a moment, drinking you in as sweat ran down the column of your throat, his eyes following it down and continuing on as he took in the rest of you. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted, and you shot him a glare.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snapped, drawing his attention back to your face, a sheepish look gracing his features at having been caught.

“Like what?”

“You know damn good and well what you were doing,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’re not a married couple, and people already talk.”

“Let them,” he said, leaning forward. You pushed at his chest, a thunderous look on your face as he chuckled. “We’re practically married, anyway.”

Your temper simmered beneath your skin as you replied, “Not without a proper proposal and ceremony, we’re not.”

“All good things to those who wait, honey girl,” he smirked once more. You pursed your lips, lifting your chin as you watched the people of Maverick pass by.

“The butcher’s son asked me for my hand again yesterday morning,” you mused. “If you don’t get your act together soon, I’m going to let him start believing it’s a possibility.”

“Honey girl, you best watch it now,” Jake warned, eyes growing dark as a glint shone in his eyes.

“Or what?” You challenged, lifting your chin in defiance. Jake’s frown turned into a dangerous smirk. He squared his shoulders, taking a step closer to you before leaning down close enough for you to inhale the scent was so distinctly him. He leaned in, the heat rolling off of him and causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Your hand came up to brace yourself against his arm as his other wound around your waist, squeezing slightly.

“Or,” he purred, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “I’ll put you over my knee and leave your ass so red and raw, you’ll be shifting in that pew at church Sunday morning.”

You let out a shuddering breath, chest heaving as he pulled away, a smug smirk sat firmly on his lips as he shot you a wink.

“You look flustered, Scout,” he grinned, golden hair shining in the sunlight and creating a halo effect that had you gaping. “Looks like you might need to sit down before you faint.”

“You’re a menace,” you grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare. He chuckled and leaned down to peck your cheek.

“Takes one to know one,” he murmured as you swatted at him again. He dodged you, hopping back.

“Jake!”

You turned to see Bradley standing on the porch to the Hard Deck, posture nervous as he shifted on his feet and his eyes darted around. Jake sighed and let out a long sigh as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He peered over at you as the other man gestured towards the blond to come over.

“I gotta go, honey girl,” Jake said, pursing his lips as he shot Bradley a glare. “Bradshaw wants to make sure his costume is perfect for the play in a couple of days, and I somehow got roped into helping.”

“Will you be by for dinner?” You asked. “I’m making dumplings.”

Jake let out a moan as he fixed you with adoring eyes. “I swear to god, I’m going to marry you.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you teased, a smile playing at your lips.

“Jake!”

“Jesus, Bradshaw! It’s a costume for a school play, not life and death,” Jake snapped over his shoulder. “Give me a damn minute!”

You snickered as Bradley rolled his eyes and stomped back into the saloon. Jake grinned down at you as he toyed with a strand of your hair.

“When’s Benji goin’ to be home?” He purred, eyes lidded as he looked you up and down once more.

“He won’t,” you told him, and his attention snapped up to you. “He’s going to San Francisco for business.”

“He what?” Jake asked, frowning. “He’s leaving you on your own?”

“Yes,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s only for a few weeks, and I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Jake.”

You looked to see Javy now standing on the porch, hands on his hips as he nodded at you.

“Come on,” he hollered across the street, peering over his shoulder for a moment to see into the saloon. “Bradley’s freaking out. You can canoodle later.”

You looked back at Jake who looked like he was going to lose his temper at any moment, bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“He’s coming!” You hollered back, a smile on your face as you rested a hand on Jake’s chest. You lowered your head to try and meet his gaze. “Canoodle?”

“I don’t know where he hears these words,” he griped, shaking his head. “You’d think the damn world was ending with how Bradley’s going on about this whole thing. It’s a play, for Christ’s sake.”

“I think it’s sweet,” you shrugged. “He and Birdie are cute together.”

Jake hummed but didn’t answer, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your forehead before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll see you later tonight?” He asked, backing away slowly. You nodded barely hiding your smile behind your fan as he grinned, turning and trotting over towards the saloon. You watched silently, and with one last wave, he was inside.

You let out a sigh, wondering just when exactly you had become so lovesick as to miss him already. A tingle shot up the base of your neck, and you whipped your head towards the end of the street, the feeling of being watched suddenly prominent. You frowned as your scanned the street, shaking your head as you saw no one or nothing out of place. That was happening to you a lot recently, the feeling of being watched. You always managed to chalk it up to residual feelings from your encounter with Isaac not too long ago.

The bell to the door of the general store rang out, startling you out of your thoughts as Hondo grinned down at you.

“Well, good afternoon, Miss Scout,” he grinned, stepping back and gesturing for you to walk in. “Have you been waiting long? I didn’t think I’d take so long getting that shipment ready.”

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head and the rest of the worrying thoughts out of your head. “Not at all. Do you have anything new in today?”

It was late, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. The ranch hands had retired to their own homes only an hour before, and you had finished cleaning up from dinner not long after. Jake hadn’t shown up, and you were sure that Bradley’s panic induced state had something to do with that.

The wind had been picking up steadily over the course of the past hour, and the sound of distant thunder rolled into the confines of your home. You usually found the sound of thunder soothing, but for some reason it had you on edge tonight. The rain had started off as a few scattered sprinkles and then quickly dissolved into a downpour, the wind howling and rattling the windows. You had taken up purchase on the sofa, needlework in hand as you attempted to occupy your mind with anything other than worrying thoughts that nagged at you.

The fireplace crackled, casting a soothing heat that helped to ease your mind some, but you quickly set your needlework aside to get up and make yourself some tea.

The kitchen was dark save for the candle you had lit to allow yourself some light, the light from the flame flickering and casting ominous shadows in your usually cozy home. The panes of the window rattled as another gust of wind rammed into the house, and you tapped your finger on the countertop as you chewed on your bottom lip. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, and your heart stopped as your eyes caught the shadow of a figure by the barn. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peek through the darkness and into the shadows. Surely no one would be standing out in this weather. And looking into your house of all places? Still, a sickening feeling boiled in the pit of your stomach, and adrenaline started to course through your veins.

Another crack of lightning crashed in the night, startling you enough to jump, but one look toward the barn had you letting out a shaky breath. There was no one there this time, and you were starting to wonder if there ever was to begin with. Were you going crazy?

The creek of the floorboards behind you coupled with another peel of thunder had you whirling around, a scream caught in your throat at the sight of a shadow in the doorway.

“Scout?”

It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust, but the sight of Jake standing in front of you had a wave of relief washing over you, a tear escaping the corner of your eye unbidden.

“Honey girl,” he cooed, walking forward, his arms reaching for you, “what’s wrong? What happened?”

You shook your head, a hand over your mouth as you pushed the sob working its way up back down. Jake was soaked from head to toe, droplets dripping onto the floor as he rubbed your arms in a soothing motion.

“Talk to me,” he murmured, leaning down to try and catch your gaze. “What’s going on? What has you so worked up?”

You felt stupid. The shadow you saw must have been Jake checking on the horses. Yes, that had to have been him. You were letting your paranoia get the better of you.

“You’re dripping water all over my floors,” you whispered. Jake’s eyes widened, looking from you down to the floor before letting out a breathy chuckle.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, “I would have been here sooner, but-”

“You’re here now,” you said, moving past him and towards the laundry you hadn’t had a chance to put away yet. “You need to change or you’ll catch a cold.”

“Scout,” he started, voice wary as he watched you scurry about. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

You stood up, a clean shirt clutched in your hands as you looked back at him. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He studied you for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek before nodding slowly.

“Alright,” he conceded. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m positive,” you corrected. “Now go and get changed. I’ll warm up some food for you.”

Jake didn’t take long, changing and eating quickly as you took care of the odds and ends around the house. Neither of you spoke a word, but Jake’s eyes watched you as you pointedly refused to meet his gaze.

The two of you retired to the parlor, Jake reading as you started to doze. He reached for you, pulling you across the sofa and into his arms as he let out a contented sigh. You chuckled, shaking your head as you practically burrowed into his side. His fingers stroked up and down the length of your arm, adding to the calm that enveloped you even as the storm raged outside.

“You ever think about what our life together is going to be like?”

You hummed, lifting your head to peer up at him through sleepy eyes. “I do.”

“You ever think about what kind of house you’d want?” Jake continued, staring into the fireplace.

“Sometimes,” you nodded slowly. “I’d like a house big enough for our kids and grandkids to play in. Somewhere we can grow old in.”

“I’d like that too,” he murmured, hands moving down to play with your fingers absentmindedly. “I want a large house with enough land to support ourselves. Nothing like the amount of land Benji’s got himself here, but enough that we wouldn’t have to struggle.”

Silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You soaked up the feeling of the moment, mind drifting towards sleep as Jake continued to play with your fingers.

“I’m going to build us a big, ol’ house,” he continued quietly. “I’m going to build you the kitchen of your dreams and set up your own little garden while I’m at it. You’re not going to want for anything, Scout.”

You hummed, feeling the touch of cool metal slide onto your left ring finger, a furrow in your brow as your brain tried to claw its way back to the land of the conscious.

“I can’t give you all these fancy jewels or take you to Paris and London for holidays, but I can give you my heart and my devotion. You’ll never have to question me or my loyalty to you, honey girl.”

You pried your eyes open, gasping at the diamond that now glittered on your hand. Jake brushed his lips against your temple, breathing you in as you struggled to catch up with what was happening, tears filling your eyes as a smile curled on your lips.

“Scout,” Jake started. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

A/N: I missed these two so much oh my goooooooood. And how about that ending, huh?? That's crazy lol Anyway, I'm hoping to have some time to work on a few more updates for next week, but we'll see. I'll run a poll for the next update, but let me know thoughts! Both on the next update and what you thought of this chapter!

[book--brackets]

The Liveship Traders by Robin Hobb (1998-2000)

Wizardwood, a sentient wood. The most precious commodity in the world. Like many other legendary wares, it comes only from the Rain River Wilds.

But how can one trade with the Rain Wilders, when only a liveship fashioned from wizardwood can negotiate the perilous waters of the Rain River? Rare and valuable a liveship will quicken only when three members, from successive generations, have died on board. The liveship Vivacia is about to undergo her quickening as Althea Vestrit’s father is carried on deck in his death-throes. Althea waits for the ship that she loves more than anything else in the world to awaken. Only to discover that the Vivacia has been signed away in her father’s will to her brutal brother-in-law, Kyle Haven...

Others plot to win or steal a liveship. The Paragon, known by many as the Pariah, went mad, turned turtle, and drowned his crew. Now he lies blind, lonely, and broken on a deserted beach. But greedy men have designs to restore him, to sail the waters of the Rain Wild River once more.

Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke (1997-2021)

With lonely Ben aboard, brave dragon Firedrake seeks mythical place where silver dragons can live in peace. Over moonlit lands and sparkling seas, they meet fantastic creatures, summon up surprising courage - and cross a ruthless villain with an ancient grudge determined to end their quest. Only a secret destiny can save the dragons and bring them the true meaning of home.

The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow (2020)

In 1893, there's no such thing as witches. There used to be, in the wild, dark days before the burnings began, but now witching is nothing but tidy charms and nursery rhymes. If the modern woman wants any measure of power, she must find it at the ballot box.

But when the Eastwood sisters -- James Juniper, Agnes Amaranth, and Beatrice Belladonna -- join the suffragists of New Salem, they begin to pursue the forgotten words and ways that might turn the women's movement into the witch's movement. Stalked by shadows and sickness, hunted by forces who will not suffer a witch to vote -- and perhaps not even to live -- the sisters will need to delve into the oldest magics, draw new alliances, and heal the bond between them if they want to survive.

There's no such thing as witches. But there will be.

The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon (2013-present)

In 2059, Scion has taken over most of the world's cities, promising safety for all the citizens it deems worthy and wiping out clairvoyants wherever it can find them. 

Paige Mahoney, though, is a clairvoyant--and a criminal just for existing. Paige is determined to fight Scion's power, and as part of the Seven Seals, Paige has found a use for her powers: she scouts for information by breaking into others' minds as they dream. 

But when Paige is captured and arrested, she encounters a power more sinister even than Scion. The voyant prison is a separate city, controlled by a powerful, otherworldly race. These creatures, the Rephaim, value the voyants highly--as soldiers in their army. 

Paige is assigned to a Rephaite keeper, Warden, who will be in charge of her care and training. He is her master. Her natural enemy. But if she wants to regain her freedom, Paige will have to learn something of his mind and his own mysterious motives.

Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao (2021-present)

The boys of Huaxia dream of pairing up with girls to pilot Chrysalises, giant transforming robots that can battle the mecha aliens that lurk beyond the Great Wall. It doesn’t matter that the girls often die from the mental strain.

When 18-year-old Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot, it’s to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister’s death. But she gets her vengeance in a way nobody expected—she kills him through the psychic link between pilots and emerges from the cockpit unscathed. She is labeled an Iron Widow, a much-feared and much-silenced kind of female pilot who can sacrifice boys to power up Chrysalises instead.​

To tame her unnerving yet invaluable mental strength, she is paired up with Li Shimin, the strongest and most controversial male pilot in Huaxia​. But now that Zetian has had a taste of power, she will not cower so easily. She will miss no opportunity to leverage their combined might and infamy to survive attempt after attempt on her life, until she can figure out exactly why the pilot system works in its misogynist way—and stop more girls from being sacrificed.

Kushiel's Legacy by Jacqueline Carey (2001-2003)

The land of Terre d'Ange is a place of unsurpassing beauty and grace. It is said that angels found the land and saw it was good...and the ensuing race that rose from the seed of angels and men live by one simple rule: Love as thou wilt.

Phèdre nó Delaunay is a young woman who was born with a scarlet mote in her left eye. Sold into indentured servitude as a child, her bond is purchased by Anafiel Delaunay, a nobleman with very a special mission...and the first one to recognize who and what she is: one pricked by Kushiel's Dart, chosen to forever experience pain and pleasure as one.

Phèdre is trained equally in the courtly arts and the talents of the bedchamber, but, above all, the ability to observe, remember, and analyze. Almost as talented a spy as she is courtesan, Phèdre stumbles upon a plot that threatens the very foundations of her homeland. Treachery sets her on her path; love and honor goad her further. And in the doing, it will take her to the edge of despair...and beyond. Hateful friend, loving enemy, beloved assassin; they can all wear the same glittering mask in this world, and Phèdre will get but one chance to save all that she holds dear.

Beauty by Robin McKinley (1978)

Beauty has never liked her nickname. She is thin and awkward; it is her two sisters who are the beautiful ones. But what she lacks in appearance, she can perhaps make up for in courage. When her father comes home with a tale of an enchanted castle in the forest and the terrible promise he had to make to the Beast who lives there, Beauty knows she must travel to the castle, a prisoner of her own free will. Her father insists that he will not let her go, but she responds, "Cannot a Beast be tamed?"

The Immortals Quartet by Tamora Pierce (1992-1996)

Thirteen-year-old Daine has always had a special connection with animals, but only when she's forced to leave home does she realize it's more than a knack--it's magic. With this wild magic, not only can Daine speak to animals, but she can also make them obey her. Daine takes a job handling horses for the Queen's Riders, where she meets the master mage Numair and becomes his student. 

Under Numair's guidance, Daine explores the scope of her magic. But she encounters other beings, too, who are not so gentle. These terrifying creatures, called Immortals, have been imprisoned in the Divine Realms for the past four hundred years--but now someone has broken the barrier. And it's up to Daine and her friends to defend their world from an Immortal attack.

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander (1964-1968)

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

Seven Realms by Cinda Williams Chima (2009-2012)

Times are hard in the mountain city of Fellsmarch. Reformed thief Han Alister will do almost anything to eke out a living for his family. The only thing of value he has is something he can't sell—the thick silver cuffs he's worn since birth. They're clearly magicked—as he grows, they grow, and he's never been able to get them off.

One day, Han and his clan friend, Dancer, confront three young wizards setting fire to the sacred mountain of Hanalea. Han takes an amulet from Micah Bayar, son of the High Wizard, to keep him from using it against them. Soon Han learns that the amulet has an evil history—it once belonged to the Demon King, the wizard who nearly destroyed the world a millennium ago. With a magical piece that powerful at stake, Han knows that the Bayars will stop at nothing to get it back.

Meanwhile, Raisa ana'Marianna, princess heir of the Fells, has her own battles to fight. She's just returned to court after three years of freedom in the mountains—riding, hunting, and working the famous clan markets. Raisa wants to be more than an ornament in a glittering cage. She aspires to be like Hanalea—the legendary warrior queen who killed the Demon King and saved the world. But her mother has other plans for her...

The Seven Realms tremble when the lives of Hans and Raisa collide, fanning the flames of the smoldering war between clans and wizards.

[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer II: Safe Haven · 02

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 5,3k warnings: smut, typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.), a/n: so i went MIA 👉👈...

series masterlist

series summary: The ride was bumpy, but in the end, you got your husband. Your marriage gave you protection, and your new husband shared with you his life, his Family, his wealth. His demons and his enemies. Only time can show whether it was worth it.

chapter sneak peek: Bucky leaned his chin on your shoulder. You didn't speak, absorbing this closeness in silence. For a moment, you forgot about the months of separation; about the fact that you weren't actually connected by true, deep affection – in that moment, it felt like you had known him forever.

The rays of the harsh morning sun broke in through the huge window, casting a bright glow directly on the bed. The beams of irritating light brushed your face, and you immediately regretted that last night the thought of drawing the curtains hadn't crossed your mind. But there was no room in your head for rational thinking or predicting the future; you were too excited, too overwhelmed for that.

Driven by your instinct to stay awake, instead of falling into further sleep, you lifted your eyelids with difficulty, and your eyes fell involuntarily on the figure lying next to you. For the first time in nearly three months, you had a man in your bed; or rather, it was he who had returned to his bed, and had no choice but to accept that you had usurped it. Eventually, you were both in your shared space, and for the first time you had the opportunity to wake up next to Bucky.

He was sleeping on his stomach, with only one leg under the covers and the rest of his body outside; half of his face was buried in the pillow, the other half was covered by his hair falling down. You admired him with fascination – your eyes ran over his broad back and the muscles it showed; over his strong arms, kissed by the Italian sun. He wasn't doing anything special, nothing spectacular – just breathing, slowly and steadily – yet you could watch him for hours. You feared, however, that he might sense this and wake up, and interrupting Bucky's sleep was the last thing you felt like doing. He had been working hard for the last few months and now he was finally being given a rest. You weren't going to deprive him of the comfort of sleeping in his bed, in a safe, familiar space, so you slipped carefully out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom.

Your sore feet still reminded you of last night – of the hours spent in the club, the alcohol consumed and the men looking at you. Bucky was right – some were looking at you with a strange longing, and at the time you hadn't wondered what it meant. Now, although the question was only just seeking a place in your mind, you were curious about something else: did they know that you belonged to him? You wore the ring, you carried his name, but you haven't yet had the chance to show yourselves in public even once. You assumed that it was the soldiers of the Barnes Family, not leaving your side, let everyone know that you had also become a member of this house. Regardless of whose wife you were, your new name was a kind of warning sign.

As the pleasant stream of warm water washed over your body, your mind was flooded with more questions. For the past few months you had been a wife, but without a husband around. What was your life going to look like from now on? Was Bucky going to fit into your mode, you were going to be forced to fit into his, or were you both going to lead your own separate lives, ignoring each other; your existing routines, habits and needs? 

The water fell on the shower floor and crashed against the tiles with loud splashes; nevertheless, the characteristic click of the door closing reached your ears. You looked over your shoulder, spotting Bucky, and your breath involuntarily stuck in your throat. He was standing by the entrance; with his hair only brushed through with a careless, accidental sweep of his fingers, his boxers framing his hips tightly and such a hungry, raw expression on his face that it instantly made your heart beat faster. You forgot about the fact that you were completely naked; the thought of satisfying this primal need took over your consciousness. Anyway, he soon returned the favor – without taking his determined gaze off you, he removed his underwear and joined you in the shower. Or rather, he attacked you as if you were his helpless prey.

His huge, hard body collided with yours; his arms immediately surrounded you with the purpose of protection from any possible loss of balance due to this sudden, violent push. Bucky's lips – which had reminded you of their existence the previous night, of the pleasure that came from them, and which you still craved – pressed onto yours in a desiring kiss. His beard irritated your tender skin in that strangely pleasurable way, but the truth was that whatever he would do, it would bring you nothing but pleasure. You couldn't imagine doing anything other than simply surrendering to him – you wanted the same thing after all, and you couldn't let him leave you starving and lusting even for a moment; you needed his attention, you needed compensation – you needed him to reward you for those few months during which you had been dying of hunger.

“Fucking missed you, Y/N,” he muttered into your lips.

“Me? Or did you miss this?” you asked innocently, and although he smiled with mild amusement, there was something punishing hidden in that smile. 

“I've thought about fucking you. Many times,” he agreed bluntly, and his hands slid through the sides of your body, from your hips to your ribs, making you shiver. “But I missed you. All of you. Even those stupid questions.”

You stretched your mouth in a wide, bright grin, and looking at him – so beautiful, so ravenous and all yours – you kissed him, placing your hands on his rough cheeks. Bucky's arms once again wrapped around your body and strengthened their hold even tighter than before. You moaned softly, crushed by his own body he pressed you to; you moaned because there was no way he could keep you any closer. Soon you felt the coolness of the tiles on your back – they were like a sharp sting on your heated skin, making you gasp shortly in surprise. Bucky stepped back slightly and stared at your face for a moment. His hand went to your neck, his fingers clenched carefully around it, and when you tried to pull away from the wall in order to get back to his lips, he held you in place without the slightest effort.

“What are you doing, Jamie?” The innocence and helplessness in your voice made Bucky hold his breath at first, then let it out with a loud gasp. As if he was savoring your softness, but in no way intending to take advantage of it. He knew you needed him as much as he needed you. 

“I want you to stay here. For better stability,” he replied with calmness and patience; your heatedness fully deserved just such an approach. 

“Stability..?”

Without taking his eyes off you, he knelt down. He carefully grabbed your ankle, and you obediently allowed him to lift your leg, which he finally put over his shoulder. You parted your lips, watching him with astonishment.

Bucky's eyes bore relentlessly into yours, his hands rested on your hips and his tongue slid lazily over your swollen, throbbing clit. You let out a shuddering breath, then sank your teeth into your lower lip. Bucky's hands clenched more securely on your body and his tongue began to rub against your knot – exploratory at first, since he was more than happy to learn your body's reactions and draw conclusions, and when he finally found the right rhythm, you knew your end was near, but you weren't about to deny yourself from being thrown into that abyss.

One of your hands found its way to his head; you slipped your fingers into his hair, and, whimpering in a desperate search for an outlet for all the pleasures building up inside you, you squeezed them there reflexively as Bucky sucked on your more and more sensitive clit. He closed his eyes, his fingers digging into your hips in a slightly painful, yet terribly satisfying way. You watched him from between half-open eyelids, and if at all possible, you got the impression that he was getting even more pleasure out of it than you were. And instead of weakening in intensity, he wanted more and more; he was no longer massaging your clit, expecting the desired reactions – he was devouring you for his own selfish fulfillment; he was devouring you like a starving man, and his appetite grew as he ate. You could feel his frustration; you could feel that he himself was left unsatisfied, and it was these desperate actions that pushed you to the edge. Leaning you against the wall earlier was a clever move - now it was keeping you safe, as your legs grew softer and softer until they finally refused to cooperate completely. Fortunately, there was Bucky under you.

Your chest rose and fell along with quick, short breaths. Not only were they coming out of your throat, but also the moans that accompanied them. For the past few months, not once had you thought the long wait would be worth it – you didn't think anyone could have given you such pleasure. Now it was growing in intensity in your lower stomach until it finally exploded, shaking your weak body with strong spasms. 

“I've got you, baby,” you heard, and the soft tone hardly matched the character of what Bucky had been doing just moments before. But you didn't think about it. You weren't actually thinking about anything; you were fighting for consciousness with the effects of overflowing pleasure. And you were losing, as your legs finally gave up under its weight.

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder, but held it so that when he got up from his knees, it hung at the level of his hip. He put his free hand around his length, and again you felt strangely fascinated by this – he hadn't touched himself once; until now his hands had rested only on your hips. Yet, his cock was hard, wet with precum, twitching in need. It slid into you without any difficulty, but you still felt its thickness stretching you. 

Your lips parted even more, letting out a hollow gasp, and Bucky moaned softly, closing his eyes for a moment. He didn't relish the sensation for too long – he started pounding into you, and unlike the previous times, he didn't begin with gentleness. He couldn't stop himself. He couldn't wait any longer; not since he finally had the chance to satisfy a need that had been piling up inside him for months – the need to fuck you. To fuck his wife.

You rested your hands on his shoulders, pressing your nails uncontrollably into his heated skin. You tilted your head back against the tiles, and this time their coolness did not bring you the same sobriety. And although you were once again intoxicated almost to the point of unconsciousness, your gaze wandered to the space between you – appearing there only when Bucky withdrew his hips. You watched as he thrust in and out of you, while Bucky observed your face; he absorbed your every grimace and every wince. 

His tongue left you sore and swollen, so his rubbing cock was driving you crazy with every movement. Finally, his hips were slamming against yours so fast, and your position provided you with such a perfect angle that your consciousness began to slip away again.

“Did you miss me, Y/N?” he breathed, adjusting his grip under your thigh.

“Y-yes,” you cried out.  

“How much?”

You forced yourself to look at his face, although your arching back made it difficult for you to do so. You were unable to put together a coherent thought; you were unable to speak it out loud. 

“Huh? How much?” he inquired. His face, too, revealed the near end; his mouth wasn't able to stay closed for more than a split second, and his nostrils flared, trying to provide as much precious air as possible. “Show me how much you missed me. Let me hear it, baby.”

You couldn't take it any longer; every bit of you had waited far too long. And once again, that shattering feeling came over you; this time it shot into every part of your body. You let out a few short, loud moans, and darkness spread before your eyes. Bucky came right after you – seeing the look on your face, the pleasure spreading all over it; hearing those sinful sounds leaving your mouth, his body couldn't act any differently. He went still, making a single, low growl, caught up with a series of heavy breaths as his body relaxed and pressed limply against yours. He still held your leg around his hip, and with the rest of the strength he had, he put his other hand on the wall right next to your shoulder, giving you both support. For the time you needed to recover.

Shortly after, Bucky turned off the water, and then you felt his hands on your body again; one somewhere on your back, the other under your thighs. You were exhausted and still dizzy, but you embraced his neck loosely for a better grip. And when you ended up in your husband's arms, your body was finally able to rest.

This time, the bedroom was pleasantly dim. You've had a nap once or twice since leaving the bathroom; although you slept through the whole night, there were several things that contributed to absorbing all your energy. 

You looked over your shoulder at Bucky lying next to you. Breathing slowly and quietly, he seemed to be asleep. You sat up carefully, and the mattress bending under your movements alarmed him. Not enough to wake him, but his fingers twitched nervously. If you had made another move, you would probably have snapped him out of this blissful state. So you waited for a moment, sitting still.

Finally, you lowered your feet to the floor, got up and moved silently to the bedroom door, mindlessly fixing Bucky's t-shirt – he gave it to you after the shower, since you needed something comfortable to put on. 

“Where are you sneaking off to?”

With your hand on the doorknob, you froze, then looked back slowly. Bucky's eyes stayed closed. 

“Nowhere,” you replied in a whisper; his not fully conscious state didn't require a louder tone. “Go back to sleep.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh. You didn't want to give him a chance to say anything more, to get his mind going. So you left the room, quietly closing the door behind you. Having stepped into the kitchen, you involuntarily followed the routine you had developed over the past months – a thoughtless peek into the fridge, turning on the coffee maker, then back to the fridge, and only then did you consciously consider a meal. You reached for the eggs, and despite the coffee maker already working, you got yourself a glass of cold water. 

You stretched, then rested your palms on the countertop, your eyelids still heavy, a bit swollen. This time you didn't despise the sun, but happily exposed your face to it.

Something told you to open your eyes. Having turned your head, you rested your chin on your shoulder. Bucky was standing in the entrance to the kitchen – he was watching you, leaning against the doorframe, and when you finally noticed him, he took a seat in a high chair by the kitchen island.

“Can't sleep without me?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Looks like it,” Bucky bit back. “Actually…” he began, and his tone as well as his expression indicated that he was going to say something sincere; to break out a little from the unserious atmosphere of your conversation. “I can't remember the last time I slept so well. I guess in…” His mouth curved into a half-smile as he vaguely thought about it, “three years.” 

Your stomach knotted, forcing you to inhale deeply. 

“Did I say something wrong..?”

“No, of course not,” you protested right away. “I just didn't expect that…” you paused, unsure of what to actually respond.

“That you would work on me like that?” Bucky's calmness took away the seriousness of the situation, but that didn't mean your heart accepted this position; it pounded hard, almost painfully. “Neither did I. I get why my body acts like the body of a horny teenager around you, but I don’t get this.” 

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back an indulgent, amused smile. 

Bucky slipped from his seat and reached for a cup to fill it with coffee. Watching him curiously, you leaned against the edge of the countertop. Until a while back, he was a stranger to you; you limited yourselves to brief glances and seemingly meaningless conversations, which in the end brought you closer together. Although you were still strangers to each other, in theory, Bucky was the closest person to you. Marriage didn't terrify you as much as it used to, because you ended up with him.

“What?” Bucky's voice brought you out of your thoughts. You must have been looking at him while drifting off.

“It’s… weird.” You squinted. He gave you a confused look. “You. Here,” you explained. “I’m not used to this. To having someone around,” you continued, coming to realize all this while making Bucky understand your thoughts. “We haven't- We haven��t really had the chance to... you know, live as a married couple.” 

“Yeah…” he agreed, looking away. 

You thought you were strangers to each other, yet you knew perfectly well that absent-minded gaze; the one combined with the thoughtless nibbling of the inside of his lower lip. You didn't want him to cast doubt on every decision that led him to this place.

“But we probably shouldn't think too much about it,” you suggested. “Do what you feel like doing. It's your home and…” You shrugged.

“My home and my wife?” Bucky tilted his head slightly, this time watching you with a somewhat challenging look.

You just smiled, considering it the only appropriate response to this gentle provocation, and turned around with the intention of continuing to prepare your meal. You managed to reach for the pan and set it on the stove when Bucky stood behind you. You heard his approaching footsteps, but rather thought he was going to put his cup in the sink. Instead, you felt his body almost against your back; he wasn't touching you, but his presence was nearly tangible.

“Is it okay if I hug you?” he asked in a low voice, and as your breath caught in your throat, his brushed your neck.

“I think so,” you didn't have to whisper, but your tone automatically matched his. 

Bucky moved as close to you as possible; his torso was in contact with your back so tightly that you could feel the quickened, uneasy beating of his heart. His arms wrapped around your body at rib height, and your hands reflexively rested on his forearms. Bucky leaned his chin on your shoulder. You didn't speak, absorbing this closeness in silence. For a moment, you forgot about the months of separation; about the fact that you weren't actually connected by true, deep affection – in that moment, it felt like you had known him forever.

He placed a light kiss on your neck, making you shiver; your shoulder lifted up to your ear, trying to cover that area.

“That’s scratchy.” You chuckled quietly. 

“I'll shave in a minute,” he muttered into your skin.

“You don't have to,” you protested right away. “I like how it feels. I don’t really mind. Besides…” You shrugged. “It suits you.”

You felt Bucky's lips, still on your neck, stretch in a smile. 

“Leave it,” he spoke after a while. “I'll get us some breakfast,” he added, and only then did you realize what he was actually talking about. 

“It's not like I was going to prepare a three course meal.” You raised your eyebrows. “Anyway…” you hesitated, letting out a deep breath. “I have to be at the gallery soon.”

Bucky groaned. “Today? Why?”

You turned around carefully enough not to break out of his embrace. You looked at his face – besides the obvious disappointment, from this distance you could see perfectly well how tired he was. You pressed your lips together, and as if that would make things better, you raised your hands to his cheeks. It appeared that you were right – the helpless displeasure in Bucky's eyes eased; he softened, relaxed under your touch.

“We are organizing a bigger exhibition. I started it while you were away, and I didn't know when you would return. I don't want to rush it,” you explained. Bucky looked at you carefully, as if to help himself process your words and come to terms with their meaning. “I also have a meeting scheduled with one investor today, so I need to be there.”

“Sure, I understand…” Bucky sighed. You were a little surprised by his stance – you thought he would appreciate a few hours to catch his breath; a few hours just for himself. Apparently, he liked you more than you assumed, and it honestly made you happy. “But I'll drive you there. And then I'll pick you up.” 

“Okay.” You beamed in a way that teenage girls used to give to boys waiting in the parking lot of the school after classes were over. “I'll go get dressed.”

When you moved away from him, Bucky imperceptibly pinched your ass, making you giggle and quicken your step towards the exit from the kitchen.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You looked directly at Adrian, saw his lips moving, but no, you weren't listening to him. At least not for the past few minutes, when the conversation began to gently drift away from the subject of the gallery. Instead of concentrating on what at some point turned into a monologue, you kept returning to your last moments with Bucky – to him showing up in the bedroom shortly after you; he had settled back on the bed, leaning on his elbow, unceremoniously watching you get dressed. Although, you didn't rid of his t-shirt until you'd put on your underwear, Bucky seemed satisfied with the view – focused almost to the point of forgetting the rest of the world, he observed you slipping into a short dress; short enough that he didn't have to put particularly much effort into getting to you when you were both filled with desire all over again.

So no, you weren't listening to Adrian. You were thinking about a quickie before work.

“Of course I am.” You smiled playfully.

“Yeah? So what did I say?”

Adrian wasn't really your investor – he didn't benefit financially. You met him through Connie, so you trusted that relationship to some extent. And at the very beginning you hoped that Adrian – as a young, fearless man – would not have hidden motivations. It quickly became clear that he was interested in you, and that you couldn't draw a hard line. His money was a comfortable addition to the gallery's business; paradoxically, it gave you more freedom. You were young and the gallery was a relatively fresh venture to say no to anyone who had shady intentions towards you.

“The usual. Y/N, go out with me. I'm begging,” you said, making Adrian laugh. Fortunately.

“So maybe you should actually consider it?” He tilted his head. “And what are you thinking about so hard anyway?”

“About my husband,” you responded without hesitation. “You know I have a husband, right? You saw the ring.”

“The thing is…” Adrian sighed. “The last time we saw each other was when? Two days ago? And you didn't have the ring. I'm sorry, but I don't believe you've managed to get married since then.” He raised his eyebrows. “I have a theory. Do you want to hear it?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there is actually no husband,” he continued. “You just don't want to be nagged by men. You are one of those women who are firmly convinced that they can live without one.” 

“Oh, Adrian…” you winced. “Such a pretty face, but what you just said... It ruined everything.”

“So you do like me.”

The buzz of the phone saved you from going any further on this topic. You glanced at the lit up screen.

I’m here.

You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Is this some friend of yours? You asked her to pretend to be your ‘husband’ and get you off the hook?” Adrian almost burst out laughing. 

“Mhmm. Something like that…” you mumbled, at the same time replying to Bucky:

Can you come to my office?

You put the phone away, your gaze back on Adrian. “Do you want something to drink?” This suggestion was not only due to the fact that you preferred to treat your sponsor with appropriate courtesy; you didn't want to return to the subject of the husband he didn't believe in, and you couldn't bear to sit in silence and stare. “Because I do,” you confessed, mainly to get up from your seat and take at least a few steps away. 

“I’d love to.”

From the cabinet you kept alcohol in, you reached for a bottle of an expensive whisky. “The usual, right?” 

But Adrian had no chance to answer. He was overtaken by a knock and soon after, Bucky appeared in the entrance. Wearing the leather jacket you last saw that evening after your father's funeral, holding a helmet. Your attention, however, was caught by something else – the brief moment of confusion crossing his face. 

“Jamie,” you uttered softly. He didn't immediately shift his gaze to you. “Jamie,” you repeated after a moment – way more conscious than the first time – having remembered that you were not alone, “this is Adrian Lancy, my investor. Adrian, this is James Barnes-”

“The husband,” Bucky said, an insincere smile stretching his mouth as he shook Adrian's hand. That same smile stayed on his face when he approached you. Placing his hand on your hip, he planted a brief but tender kiss on your cheek. “Hi, babe.” He raised an eyebrow, and you stopped yourself from snorting a laugh. Bucky intended to be painfully obvious.

“Want something to drink, babe?”

Bucky glanced at your lips, then smirked. “No, I’m good.”

He put his helmet down on the desktop and took a seat in your chair. At that moment he looked stunning – very bossy; you could easily imagine him taking the throne of the Underworld; becoming the head of his Family. 

“So,” Adrian began, “you ride motorcycles, Mr. Barnes?”

“Among other things, yeah,” he confirmed without any desire to elaborate, therefore dropping the subject. “Aren't the working hours already over?” Bucky cleared his throat. “If I were insanely jealous I would think you are keeping my wife on purpose. To spend more time with her.” Again that fake, but not blatantly fake smile. 

“Are you insanely jealous?”

A short, dry laugh left Bucky's mouth. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

Holding the drink prepared for you – a few ice cubes poured over a relatively small amount of gin and tonic – you handed the other glass of whiskey to Adrian, then perched on the edge of the desk. You needed your sponsor happy, so in an attempt to make amends for Bucky's behavior, you turned a blind eye to the fact that in this position your dress showed a little more of your body. 

“Well…” Having taken the bait, Adrian started again. “Y/N is not sitting here for free, so personally I don't see any problem. I pay for every hour.”

You didn't know if he intentionally used those exact words, but what you did know was that it took a really trivial reason for Bucky to stand up for you. And that ‘standing up’ was – in most cases – all about painful, harsh physicality. It wasn’t a problem, not for you, but it could be for your business. 

“You'd better pay her a lot, Mr. Lancy.”

You gave Adrian an apologetic look, though he didn't seem offended. But looking at that unsettling, indefinable expression on his face, you would have preferred him to be.

He emptied his glass with one tilt, then got up from his seat. “I'll get going.”

You slid off the desk, and as the men shook hands again, you walked Adrian to the door. Usually you would have accompanied him all the way to the exit of the gallery, but this time you both decided not to get under Bucky's skin any deeper.

Having closed the door, you leaned your back against its surface. Bucky was standing by the desk with his hands in his pockets. He was looking at you with a softness you didn't think you deserved, but there was something else to it.

“You didn’t punch him…” You squinted curiously. “Why?”

Taken aback, Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Did you want me to punch him? I can still catch up to him-”

“No, it's not necessary,” you said, ignoring the tease in his tone. You tilted your head to the side, folding your arms. “I'm just wondering why you spared him.”

“You almost showed him your pants,” he replied, shrugging indifferently. You parted your lips, ready to express offense, but Bucky was right – indeed, you almost showed Adrian your pants. “I gathered he must be important for you. That's why I didn't want to blow it.”

You smiled with affection.

“I'm not sure how to feel about all this,” Bucky continued, squinting slightly. “I'm not surprised. Jealous, yes, but not surprised.” 

“Meaning..?”

“I’m impressed by how you act on men. How you deal with them,” he said. “John Walker, now Adrian, and even... Even me. You wrap everyone you meet around your finger. But I knew that. I knew that from the very beginning,” he stated, frowning. “You're a fucking magnet.” He snorted quietly. 

“Are you mad..?” you asked, your voice so soft it surprised him.

“No, of course not,” he assured immediately. “It's… pretty amazing. But they think they can say and do whatever they want. And that's the part that worries me. That one of these men will go too far, and I won't be around to stop them.” 

You lowered your gaze. You didn't even realize when your fingers began to play nervously with the fabric of your dress. Bucky was right – you were able to deal with men in a way that would benefit you. But it wasn’t like that with him; you didn't want his money, you didn't want favors, you didn't care if he agreed to your every request. You just wanted to be liked by him. Tolerated by him.

“Do you need money, Y/N?” Bucky asked calmly. “Do you need Lancy’s money?”

Lifting your head so fast your neck almost snapped, you looked up at Bucky. A wave of unpleasant heat spread all over your body. You didn’t say a word about that, yet he knew everything. “No,” you lied. 

“Are you sure? Because I have money. And now it's your money, too.”

“Yes, I know,” you replied, giving him the most beaming grin you could afford – hoping to dissuade him from any possible doubts. “Can you take me home now?”

Bucky also smiled, so you got the impression that he believed you, and as a result, wouldn't return to the subject. He grabbed your purse, took his helmet off the desk and walked to you. He watched you with the same cocky smirk when you tried to take your purse from him, but at first he didn't want to let it go.

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Barnes?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he said casually, shrugging, then reached behind your back to open the door. “Mrs. Barnes.” He nodded. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach – without much effect – you gave him an indulgent look.

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine @pattiemac1 @marvel-fandom23 @rabbitrabbit12321 @xsecretsirenx @heyyitsreign @xhollycowx @samfreakingwinchester @thrnlvr @samjuarezzz @loustan90 @kandis-mom @abaker74 @gabshouse @casa-boiardi @globetrotter28 @fand0mskullfa1ry @iateall-yourcookies @swordofawriter @theroyalmanatee @midnightvitality @thebuckybarnesvault @milanaasblog @itsmytimetoodream @talesofadragon @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @bbiaa420 @funkybarnes @sebastians-love @walkingwithoutreason @hereticdance @abitofblues @purple-vegan @queenashen @oqueano @yourdryadwife @lethallyprotected @abbyyourlocalmilf

[blueorchid-95]

So I’ve been thinking about book IV lately. I have a bit of a theory about how the dream situation works, especially in the context of the Summoner’s apparent power… and its implications.

When Kiran summons a Hero, they form a “contract” together. Lore-wise, this contract is primarily used to better coordinate combat and expand the summoner’s tactical options. However, it does NOT cause a shift in the Hero’s personality. That’s how we end up with Grima and Chrom staring each other down on either side of the home menu while Robin stands awkwardly just above them.

So, through these contracts, Kiran connects with their summoned Heroes. Which would mean, naturally, that the Hero is connected to Kiran as well.

Freyja’s position as a goddess of dreams provides her with the perfect position to take advantage of this. By sneaking into Kiran’s dreams, she can trick them into forming a contract with her, which enables her even greater influence over their mind. From there, she imprisons them in slumber so that she can use the necklace to take Freyr’s power from him, so that they may be together forever.

However, the Summoner unconsciously senses Freyja mucking around in their mind through the contract, and therefore fights back in the only way they can: calling for help. Through this, Kiran draws his three closest friends—Anna, Sharena, and Alfonse—into the dream realm with him. Freyja realizes the threat they could pose, even if they’re unaware of the dream—when she takes Freyr’s power, nightmares will run amok on Askr, and the four of them will no doubt start finding answers to questions she doesn’t want answered.

To remedy this potential issue, Freyja draws them into the Dream Realm and messes with their dreams: she causes the Summoner to dream that they’re Alfonse, and separates the REAL Alfonse from the group and subjects him to the control of nightmares. This ends up directly leading to her brother’s sacrifice.

Now that her brother is dead, Freyja needs the dream to stay together, so that she may recreate her brother in the way that she sees fit. She’s the goddess of nightmares—any version of Freyr she creates for herself beyond the dream will be her worst nightmare. But according to the law of the dream, she can bring her brother back just how she wants him without facing that consequence. All she has to do is prevent the Summoner from awakening. So, she lies: she tells them that Alfonse is dead and that they took on his identity out of grief.

Right now, her only goal is to manipulate the summoner into wanting to remain within the dream. So she presents herself as a reasonable figure, carrying only their best interests in mind.

And as the summoner resists her, she gets more and more aggressive and dangerous.

Freyja’s attempts to bend Kiran to her ultimately fail, and they do awaken—but it’s worth noting that she managed to get into their head in the first place. She used the summoner’s power against them, and the only reason she failed to keep them under control was because they became aware of it. Now that the summoner has supposedly lost their memories of the incident, they have no way of realizing the issue with their power, which leaves them open to being attacked through a false contract again. And to make matters worse, if Freyja rises, she can 100% drag the summoner back into dreams… and this time, she knows to prevent them from reaching out.

Now, which gods just might have the power to reach into Kiran’s mind…?

TLDR: the summoner’s contracts allow them to be manipulated against their will, which caused Book IV and could cause more problems in the future

[anim-ttrpgs]

"FORIVA: The Angel Game," a Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Adventure Module

(Promotional art by @chaospyromancy, one of our team artists.)

"FORIVA: The Angel Game" has been sitting on our patreon in an unedited state for over six months now, but as of this patreon update, after three weeks of editing, we can finally call it finished. (Well, except for the artwork, but that just gives you more to look forward to in future patreon releases!)

Besides the absolutely massive changelog for the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook, this is our big draw for this month’s monthly patreon release.

Somewhere, a mother stares wordlessly at her hospitalized son who doesn’t recognize her, and wonders why this is happening to her family. Somewhere, a private detective smiles as his client offers a generous reward for someone–anyone–to blame for what was done to his children. Somewhere, a young girl tears down the advertisements that were covering up the missing poster of her friend. 

The year is 1999, and society is equal parts optimistic and apprehensive about the new millennium. Fears of the Y2K bug are circulating, Bill Clinton is still in office, and the popularity of video arcades is on the decline.

A rash of hospitalizations and disappearances has struck in Shreveport, Louisiana*, with all of the victims so far being teenagers and children. Each case might at first seem unconnected, save for their close proximity in time to one another sending ripples throughout the community. Local news has been covering the story for days now, capitalizing on the fear and uncertainty of concerned parents, something that might seem like a distant problem to each investigator, until it strikes someone they know….

This is a fully fledged horror-mystery adventure module for use with Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, expected time run 3-6 dread-filled sessions, and you can get it now for only $5 on our patreon. And speaking of the A,N.I.M. patreon, there’s no better time to sign up, since we just released a big update to the beta rulebook, we just launched the Gorgon Initiative! Long story short, the playable gorgon monster type is a Kickstarter stretch goal we didn’t hit, but if we can reach 50 total patreon subscribers before the end of June, we’re going to be adding it to the book anyway! At the time of writing this, we’re at 41/50! You could make the difference, and get all this new Eureka content to boot!

[thehypnone]

Symbol on the Surface Chapter 15

WC: 1,5k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Fluff, Humor

Mountain, Aether, Dewdrop, Cirrus and Aeon are doing the heaviest renovation work, while Swiss, Rain and the remaining ghoulettes work on designing the space for the kits.

Notes: Tysm to @jimothybarnes for beta reading :3

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 15 under the cut or on AO3.

Because the kits weren’t planned, nobody has ever even considered how they would fit into the ghoul’s living situation.

The ghoul wing of the Abbey has three floors—the current band pack lives on the ground floor, and the older ghouls on the first. The second is mostly for storage, currently, but it’s assumed to be meant for future summons.

Obviously, considering that it’s Copia that’s in charge now, and he very clearly stated that he will never send a ghoul back to the Pit against their will, so it might get a little…hm, crowded, in the future.

Anyway, each floor originally had twelve rooms, and a big space at the end of the corridor—traditionally for the kitchen and commons. The first floor has only nine bedrooms now, because somewhere around the time the ghoulettes were summoned, two were merged into a bigger one just for them—since it has always been clear they’re going to be staying together. Mountain and Swiss live in one room, and so do Dewdrop and Rain, so that leaves four spaces unoccupied.

Well, not so much unoccupied at all, as unlived in on a daily basis. There’s two rooms that are soundproofed; one of them is, of course, a sex dungeon, and the other one a small instrument room. Another one is a spare bedroom for times when someone needs, essentially, a break from whomever they usually stay with, and the last one is for storage.

The pack has discussed what arrangements could be made to accommodate the three members that are soon going to join their pack. Of course, they’re going to be staying with their parents for quite some time, but…well, what then?

Aeon has offered to move from his room next to Swiss and Mountain’s into the current storage, next to Rain and Dewdrop’s, so that after some mild demolition work, the kits could have their space separate, but at the same adjacent to their parents’. For comfort and safety.

In the future they would need to have rooms of their own, but that’s…distant future. A lot might change within their pack before time for that comes, and, besides, it’s still hard for Swiss and Mountain to even imagine their kits as something more than a concept.

No matter how strange that sounds, that is the truth.

Swiss is pregnant, yes, that can’t be denied.

There are kits inside him, that’s also a fact.

They are going to be born—sooner, rather than later, now.

But the fact that they are going to be ghouls that are going to grow up in front of Mountain and Swiss’, and the whole pack’s eyes? A borderline crazy idea.

So that is the plan for now. The storage between Dewdrop and Rain’s and the ghoulettes room is going to be cleaned up, Aeon is going to move in there. The wall between Swiss and Mountain’s and, for the time being, Aeon’s rooms is going to be partially brought down to make a passage between them, and…well, that’s mostly it.

That’s where the nursery is going to be.

The nursery.

When the time comes, Mountain, Aether, Dewdrop, Cirrus and Aeon are the ones to do the heaviest work, while Swiss, Rain and the remaining ghoulettes work on designing the space for the kits.

Well, it’s mostly Cumulus and Rain, but the rest also want to feel useful; especially Swiss. He is, frankly, heartbroken that he can’t contribute much to the demolition, but he understands the need for not exerting himself. He’s fit to burst at any moment, after all—six months pregnant out of the seven typical for ghouls.

They pick out the furniture and decor and…everything, really. Rain draws it, so that Swiss can actually see what the plan is—and also for Sunshine and Aurora to fawn over.

As that group works on that part, the rest is swinging manual hammers and wielding hammer drills. It’s hot in there and not because of the radiators. Nobody has expected renovation work to end up in an orgy, but…well, it’s hard for it not to end up in an orgy with the five of them with their muscles straining and their skin glistening with sweat.

Only Mountain decides to ditch in favor of rubbing a quick one in the shower and returning to his mate as quickly as possible, leaving the rest to fuck in the plaster dust.

Anyhow, the work goes well and—despite the distractions—fast, so it's only a couple days when the curtain between the nursery and Swiss and Mountain’s room hangs, and the actual baby-wait begins. There’s still a couple of little things to be done in there, but it’s nothing urgent, and the expecting parents are already proud of the space created and excited for their babies to live there.

Slowly, but surely, both Mountain and Swiss start believing that yes, they are going to be good parents.

The earth ghoul has just spent a couple hours in the nursery working his literal magic on some plants that he had put there and made climb and nearly cover one of the walls entirely. It’s something that’s not only going to keep the air in the room clean, but it’s an extension of Mountain’s will, so if something bad would ever be about to happen in there, the plants would come to life and protect the kits.

He has kept the thick curtains between the rooms drawn, because Swiss was still asleep when he started. There’s a big proud smile painted on Mountain’s face when he walks out from behind them to enter their bedroom, but it’s quickly washed off when he sees his mate awake—sitting in their nest and crying.

“What happened, darling?” he asks kindly, but urgently.

“I–I only have t–two boooooobs,” Swiss wails, taking Mountain aback. He’s never going to disregard his mate’s feelings, but…what?

“What do you mean?” He tries to keep his face neutral as he asks for clarification.

“I–I–how am I gonna feed our k–kits?” the multi ghoul cries, throwing his arms up in defeat. “Three kits an–and two boobs!”

“Oh, my heart…” Mountain relaxes, even smiling slightly at the ridiculousness of Swiss’ worries. He kneels at the edge of the bed and takes his mate’s beautiful face between his hands. “Darling, that is not something you should be worried about.”

“B–but..”

“I can guarantee you, they will share and all three will be properly fed at all times. I know it,” the earth ghoul swears, before leaning in to place a peck on Swiss’ forehead. “It will all be alright.”

Swiss doesn’t reply for a little bit, only sniffling in Mountain’s hold, but then he nods, “Okay…I feel so stupid.”

“You are not stupid, darling,” his mate counters, “all this is just a sign of how amazing and caring a mama you will be!”

“When you put it like that…” Swiss giggles under his breath, wiping the tears away from his cheeks—even though Mountain’s thumbs have been at it already.

The earth ghoul grins and gives him one more kiss before pulling back, “We should get going for dinner, don’t you think?”

Swiss nods and takes Mountain’s hand to stand up, but he winces in pain as he straightens up. Mountain’s immediately on him. “Everything alright?

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just my back,” the multi ghoul admits with a groan, “it hurts like a bitch.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Swiss is silent for a moment, but then he lowers his eyes to the floor and Mountain knows that there is something, even before he speaks. “Uh, actually–I’ve seen a…thing online. Can we try it?”

“Of course, let’s see it.” The multi ghoul pulls up his TikTok and the videos he has saved and scrolls for a little bit until finding the one he wants. He shows it to Mountain with a blush dusting his cheeks—never confident enough to just ask for something for himself. The earth ghoul lights up, takes his phone away and stands behind Swiss to do it right away.

“Okay, I’m just going to go here–” Mountain puts his hands under Swiss’ armpits and wraps them around his bump from the bottom, “and here, and let’s–”

“Oh,” Swiss moans obscenely when his mate gently lifts his stomach. Mountain smiles against the top of his head, happy that he can bring the multi ghoul even a moment of relief—but his brows also furrow as he discovers just how heavy the stomach of a ghoul so far along with triplets is.

“Good?”

“Please don’t let go,” Swiss begs, near desperate.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my heart.”

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus @ghoultrifle (if anyone from here wants to be removed lmk, and also if anyone else wants to be added)