#so why would it be different if it was my stuff

[i9messi]

Don't break up with me — Oscar Piastri

Because of a misunderstanding, Oscar thinks you want to break up with him. Signals made him suspect he was right, but in fact, you just want to surprise him with a new puppy.

word count — 1,3k

note: i promise you this is pure fluff and romantic stuff. oscar here loves reader soo much, so I hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

Oscar started to think about the last half of the year. Everything in your relationship had been so wonderful in those last few months, almost too perfect to be real.

You went to support him to his races every weekend, had romantic dates in your favourite places, went to museums and book stores and enjoyed ordinary things such as going together to the market. You had a beautiful relationship, where you supported each other and talked about your concerns as well as your future. Having known each other since you were teens, you and Oscar had talked many times about what you wanted to do in the future: to get marry and start a family.

Your families were very close, his mother loved you and you loved her, even spent time with her when he was not around. Your side of the family adopted him as their son, showing love to him.

There was no way you would break up with him. It made no sense.

However, the signs were there. That morning before heading to the circuit he had called you and you interrupted him, saying you were busy. That would have made sense and it was fine, except then he talked later to his mom and she told him you had been texting her all morning. Why didn’t you want to talk to him?

It was bad. That couldn’t be happening.

“Oscaaaaaaaaaaarr.” Someone shouted and that made him come back to reality.

Lando was in front of him, while he was sitting on the couch. Oscar used to be the most calm in your relationship. He took things easy, used to think before taking action, but now thinking so much was turning him into a person full of insecurity.

“What's wrong?” Lando asked, realizing that his teammate was acting differently than usual.

“Nothing.”

“Is this about your girlfriend?”

Oscar didn't try to hide the truth, not with him. “I think she’s going to break up with me.”

Lando was silent for a moment, until he burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I feel bad. I’m devastated.”

“She’s not gonna break up with you, mate.”

You didn’t live together yet, you hadn’t taken that step in your relationship yet, but you practically lived next to each other. Your apartments in Monaco were only a few meters away. Yesterday he had invited you on a date and you told him that you couldn’t go. Lately it was as if you didn't want to spend your time together, as if his mere presence was annoying to you.

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you're the perfect couple. You love each other, you show the world how adorable you are, and then make everyone else feel miserable.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore, Lando.”

“Go talk to her, then. Crying and feeling bad about it won’t solve a thing. Go and win back your lady.”

Oscar listened to his teammate, knew he couldn’t waste time or the opportunity to talk with you. He found you just a few minutes later and you hugged him, while he left a kiss on your forehead.

“Baby, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Oscar. Congratulations for the race, I'm very proud of you.”

That had to mean something, didn’t it? If you hadn’t missed him and if you didn’t want him more in your life, you wouldn’t have answered that. Oscar was trying to convince himself that he still had a chance with you.

“Let’s go to my house.” he suggested, as you raised your head and looked at him with a face that showed no feelings.

“We better go to mine. We need to talk.”

Damn. You were going to break up with him. You never spoke like that, you had never said those words before.

On the way to your apartment in Monaco, he drove quietly. Oscar noticed you were nervous. You ran your hand through your hair and barely spoke. You were acting strange. He was increasingly convinced that once you arrived at your home, you would tell him that you wanted to break up with him.

The road was eternal and the worst of the worst. You arrived and stayed in the living room.

“Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please.”

You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and came back a few seconds later. He drank the water in a single instant, too thirsty and nervous.

“Is something wrong, Oscar?”

“Do you want to break up with me?”

You stayed silent, until Oscar spoke again. His eyes were shining, his hair was messy from all the times he had passed his hands over it.

“Don’t break up with me, please. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, you're my everything. I love you, that’s all I know. If I did something wrong just tell me, I'll try my best to not make the same mistake again."

“Oscar, baby…”

He hesitated, but he walked a step closer to you. Oscar was trying to not lose his mind.

“We can’t break up."

His supplicant gaze begged you not to leave him, not when he needed you so much.

“I love you and my life would be shattered without you.”

And something happened. You smiled.

“Oscar, I’m not breaking up with you. I don’t know what made you think I would.”

Calm made Oscar relax, but he remained confused. He was very sure of all the signs he had seen, he wasn't crazy and he was not imagining things. You had been acting strangely in those last days.

“Then why have you been acting so weird?”

“Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”

You left and came back a while later with something in your arms. A little puppy.

“It’s for you, honey.”

Oscar couldn’t help but come closer to you to see the puppy. The animal looked at him with a little mistrust, but once his hand came to caress the dog, the puppy began to move his tail with happiness, while you saw him with a smile on your face.

“A dog? For me?”

“It was a surprise. I talked with your mum about it and she even helped me. When you'll be busy with work stuff, I will be taking care of him.”

Your boyfriend grabbed the animal in his arms, the puppy ran his tongue over his face and Oscar squinted his eyes, while he couldn't stop feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest.

“l didn't expect this, thank you.”

“I would never break up with you, Oscar. You make me happy. That’s why I thought of adopting a puppy for you.”

“Then why were you acting so weird?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise. Yesterday I went to get him and that’s why I canceled our plans. Today the puppy peed in the clothes I was going to wear, just when you called. Also, he started barking and didn’t want you to find out. It was my little secret.”

Oscar had never been so happy, he left a kiss on your lips. Your mouths joined and he smiled so happily.

“I love you, you made me the happiest man in the world.”

“We have our little family now, Oscar. We are parents of a dog.”

Even as you planned to start a family when you were old enough, sharing the life of a pet was everything to him. Sharing the care and affection of a puppy made his tender and loving part appear.

“I love you and I love this animal. I will take care of you and him for my whole life.”

You weren't breaking up with him, that was the best part of all.

[human-blob-nessie]

"The Ending of the Battlestar Galactica Reboot"

Uhhhhhhh

The last minute or so of the last episode is a "150.000 years later" that makes the entire show worse retroactively. It's literally the worst moment of the show by MILES and everything would be much better without it. It's very much an example of these kind of timescales being used extremeley unnecessarily. (I understand the reason why they settled on 150k years, but this entire segment just should not have been there.)

Up until then there is important history that is relevant to the story but it's around 2000 years ago and treated as extremely old stuff so pretty much fine

Just adding context to the part i know of.

And to add my own commentary : if you have long-living races that live at a very different pace than humans or the like. So the same "amount" of history is stretched along bigger time frames, is imo one way to make that... roughly viable ?

Like 10k years for people who can live up to 1000 years old isn't that absurdly far away... if your politics don't go as fast as the people who live 80 years if they're lucky. And even then it could be somewhat relevant (like. ancient history that still has clear consequences if you learned about it) to them and completely unknown to the rest of the world because that's fucking old.

(If that wasn't obvious it's the answer i used to that problem in my fantasy worldbuilding, it's not perfect but i tried to address the history of the elves compared to the rest and this was my answer - also it's probably the last time i include elves in a setting because that is headache-inducing)

starting an elite paramilitary black ops group who sneak into the homes of authors and cut one to three zeroes off any number of years given in a fantasy or sci-fi novel

[amiaclone]

hiii umm can you write some thanos (squid game 2) x reader. like just him being a flirt n stuff

Yes! My first Thanos writing I tried to make him as accurate as possible 😭

Thanos x gn! Reader

“Hey there senorita/Amigo glad a pretty face like yours survived!”

You groaned not this guy again

He kept on flirting with you before the first game and luckily you hid behind a good crowd of people for him to lose sight of you now walking back he is giving you an unfortunate greeting

Thanos was his name you’ve heard of him a rapper you’ve listened to a few of his songs but you’d never tell him that

You liked a good flirt but Thanos was a play boy right? Well he seemed like one anyways one thing you hated more then a playboy was a tryhard

“Oh great to see you too!” *You spoke in exaggeration excitement* “That was clearly sarcastic-“ *Said his friend who was immediately pushed out of the way and interrupted harshly by Thanos* “Shut up anyways atleast we have some interesting people that lived…” *He winked*

“Okay that was a good one.” *You smirked if he’s playing you might as well entertain him*

A part of you felt like it was genuine but why?

You leaned on one of the bars of the beds with Thanos following suit leaning beside you

“Want me to protect you if they try to attack you?”

You shrugged in amusement “Like the protecting but I’ll be fine they won’t attack us unless we interfere i assume”

“Ooh! Beauty and Brains this one’s a keeper!”

He smirked a bit as he praised you scoffed smiling a bit

Atleast you felt complimented

Eventually some guy told the guards that we can vote to stay or leave you weren’t sure

“So what are you picking?”

You questioned Thanos but you already felt like you knew

“Stay leaving now? That would be something an idiot would do that guy survived all the games he can guide us”

True that made you ponder in thought “But what if they change the games?” *You couldn’t help but say out loud “Well there children games can’t be too fucking bad.” *Thanos bluntly admitted*

Eventually it was time for you to vote not like it made a difference you voted to stay what Thanos said encouraged you in a way plus needed the money but now you feel like you made a mistake…

Thanos smirked

“That’s my n/n! You chose the right one!”

You scoffed wanting to act like you didn’t know him you walked over anyways

“Since you broadcasted to everyone here that we’re talking why don’t we form an alliance?”

“Absolutely not-“ “Ditto.” *He interrupted his friend again* “Need a pretty face like you on our side anyway”

*You spent your hours before the next game with your just made alliance Thanos and Nam-Gyu

You could tell Thanos was the (Un)stable one holding the alliance as Nam-Gyu silently despised you is he gay for Thanos or what? You sigh

“So babe, you seem smart what do you think the next games are?”

You quirk an eyebrow “Well there games we played since our childhood so….maybe since red light green light was supposed to eliminate half the players this one’s a….group related game?” You sounded more confused by each time you spoke but Thanos seemed to weirdly buy it

“Smart thinking, told you we got a brains on our team WERE GONNA WIN!!!” *Yeah this guy was definitely high but why do i feel like hes growing onto me?*

After that horrifying game Thanos approaches you

“Thanks my flower your a real brainy for figuring out it was group related”

You sighed smiling “Eh it was only a suggestion I didn’t actually know what the game was gonna be”

He smirked “But a beautiful genius like yourself figured out Thanos and Y/n me and you! Are gonna take over the games”

You couldn’t help but smile at that eh maybe he’s not so bad after all? Maybe

“Sure”

Tried to make Thanos as accurate as possibeee!

[what-even-is-thiss]

I’m thinking about healthcare right now. I’m back on Kaiser since I’m back in California (and went through a several months long incredibly frustrating process with medi-cal and Medicaid) and they’re kind of one of the better health insurance companies. I say kind of because they deny the smallest percentage of claims of any major US health insurance company but they still deny around 7%

The weird thing with Kaiser is you need to do almost everything through Kaiser. They own hospitals, doctor’s offices, psychiatrists, etc. and usually that’s a great thing except for when it’s not.

See if I go to Kaiser every doctor they have there has access to my medical record. I don’t need to sign any tedious forms, spend two weeks pulling my hair out and sending emails. They’ve just got it. I don’t need to do my own research deciding what specialist to go to. I just go to one. Sometimes in the same building on the same day.

Usually, this is really good. When I was on blue cross/blue shield in Texas it took me like two weeks of constant emailing and phone calls to set up an appointment with a specialist. With Kaiser I just go to my GP and they look at me and confirm yes a specialist would help with that and then make an appointment with the next available one. And if I don’t like that guy or my GP I can just request a change on the website and get a different one.

The thing with Kaiser though is you need to go to Kaiser. Physically. You’ve gotta go to one of the Kaiser buildings. Often times there’s one, maybe two per city. You’ve gotta go there for doctors appointments, pharmacy, emergency care, everything unless they’ve contracted out to someone else. And they don’t do that very much.

So if I live next door to a random pharmacy I can’t use that pharmacy. I’ve gotta go halfway across town to go to my local Kaiser facility.

They also kind of might sometimes have a lack of local people with knowledge about certain very niche things. For my transgender related health issues I almost always have to do a tele-health appointment with some guy in San Francisco. I can’t talk to a specialist in person because my local Kaiser hospital doesn’t have anyone who specializes in transgender related healthcare on staff.

I mostly like Kaiser. I like that my doctors all just have my info. I like that I can just go to one place to get everything done relatively quickly. I don’t like that I have to go on a video call with a guy in San Francisco to ask questions about certain things or that I have to go across town to pick up my prescriptions when I live within walking distance of a pharmacy.

Why am I telling you all this? Well I think some people don’t know this sort of thing even exists in the US, or the advantages and disadvantages of it.

Of course the amount of money that Kaiser covers still varies depending on your plan like every other plan in the US. They have eye care but not all employers will pay for Kaiser eye care. They don’t have dental as far as I know.

I just think that there’s a world out there where we could have the best of both Kaiser and traditonal insurance companies, you know? A world where you can go to any pharmacy you want and also see a doctor the same day. That’s not the sort of world or specifically country I live in but I think it’s good for us all to understand the sort of stuff that’s out there. The possibilities.

[piastri-fvx]

A Ferrari fan and a Red Bull Driver. Max Verstappen.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x FerrariFan!reader, Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader, social media and a very short irl part

Summary: When Max Verstappen develops a crush on a Ferrari fan, who happens to be a Leclerc.

Word Count: 1,089

Face claim: different girls from pinterest & Sabrina Carpenter

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and a bunch of bickering.

Authors Note: yayyyy second story, here we go!! Hope u enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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@yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, alexandrastmleux, lorenzotl, jade_distinguinn, charlotte2304 and 637.581.274 others

yourusername family day in the paddockkkk ❤️

| view all comments...

alexandrastmleux trop belleeee liked by creator

-> yourusername my wife 💕

-> charles_leclerc ???

user1 okay but Max posting her...

-> user2 HE DID???

-> arthur_leclerc he did?

-> user3 i smell overprotective brother

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc don't even

charles_leclerc my favorite little sister ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername i'm your only sister?

-> user4 damn 💀

-> user5 i'm so invested in the Max and Leclerc stuff

user6 i need more footage of y/n meeting people in the paddock 😣

-> user7 real

jade_distinguinn 🥰🥰🥰 liked by creator

-> yourusername my loveee 🩵

-> user8 awwww

maxverstappen1 loved meeting you liked by creator

-> user9 what is going on

-> user10 someone please pinch me

user11 you are gorgeoussss liked by creator

-> yourusername thank youuuu

user12 woahhhhh 😍

user13 oh to have y/ns life

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, user1, alexandrastmleux, landonorris, estebanocon and 4.284.395 others

maxverstappen1 finally summer break

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername forza ferrari 🥰

-> maxverstappen1 no

-> user1 i'm afraid she slayed

charles_leclerc why are you posting my little sister???????

-> maxverstappen1 what? which sister? you have a sister?

-> user2 damnnnn, the gaslighting

user3 i'm so invested in all of this

landonorris i don't know about you guys, but this looks like a girlfriend appreciation post to me 🙃 liked by creator

-> user4 i fear he ate

-> user5 damn, lando has a point

-> arthur_leclerc they're not dating

-> user6 he refuses to believe it lmao

user7 the leclerc brothers being in denial is my favorute thing ever

-> yourusername real

-> user8 omg hiiii

-> user9 is that a confirmation?

arthur_leclerc no

-> user10 overprotective brother alert

user11 MAX LIKING LANDO'S COMMENT ABOUT Y/N BEING HIS GF????

-> user12 i'm so glad i get to live in this world

user13 okay but why is no one talking about how pretty she is?? like damn liked by creator

scuderiaferrari she's ours

-> redbullracing she won't be for long liked by creator

-> user14 not ferrari and red bull fighting over her 😭

user15 just fell to my knees in a parking lot

-> user16 valid reaction

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Sitting in the passenger seat of Max's Aston Martin, y/n let out a thoughtful hum, directing her gaze to Max. He glanced at her, noticing the weight of her gaze on him.

"Penny for your thoughts, mijn liefde?" He spoke up, his voice softer than usual. He seemed to have noticed her thoughtfulness as her mind seemed to be racing. He knew the expression on her face all too well.

"What if they're mad..?" She then spoke, her body visibly tensing at the thought. Her shoulders slumped, making his eyes meet hers again, now filled with concern.

"Lorenzo, Arthur and Charles?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer. Of course she was talking about her brothers, she had been quite anxious to tell them about her relationship with Max, and Max knew that.

She tilted her head, her eyes full of nervousness. "Yeah," she simply said, nodding her head and biting her lips, looking out the window of the car to try to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Why would they be? You make me happy. I love you and you love me. They should be happy for us," Max calmly spoke, attempting to make her relax a bit. And he seemingly succeeded, as she slightly relaxed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," She couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach as he said that he loved her. He had said it before, since they had been dating for multiple months at this point, but it still felt like the first time.

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@charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, landonorris, lorenzotl and 1.384.294 others

charles_leclerc me when my little sister hangs out with my rival 😒

| view all comments...

maxverstappen1 did someone mention me? liked by creator

-> user1 max verstappennnnnn

user2 lestappen?

landonorris wait until you see his newest post, charles liked by creator

-> user3 i love how invested in this lando is

-> user4 he's just like us

-> user5 he lives for the drama

user6 y/n mentioned

maxverstappen1 me when y/n leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

-> arthur_leclerc i will fight you.

-> lorenzotl me too. back off, verstappen

-> charles_leclerc i will crash you into the barriers on purpose if you hurt her

-> user7 them wanting to fight max is so funny to me

user8 the last few months on f1 social media have been so amazing 😭

alex_albon max has rizz

-> user9 true

-> user10 preach, alexander albon

user11 do do do do max verstappen

-> user12 i live for that song 😭

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, niallhoran, louist91, liampayne, joaofelix79 and 5.482.385 others

maxverstappen1 girlfriend appreciation post

| view all comments...

yourusername mon amourrrrr 🥰 liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 forever yours ❤️

-> user1 your honor, i love them 😭

-> user2 we got y/n and max together before gta 6

user3 i mean, we did get lestappen ☺️

-> user4 yeah, just with a different leclerc than we thought

-> user5 this is so cute

user6 i hope they get married

-> user7 same

louist91 so happy for you both!! liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you, lou!!

-> user8 i love that she's friends with zayn, louis, liam, harry and niall 😣

liampayne yayyyyyyy!! now she won't have to pine when we text or call and talk about how amazing you are and how much she likes you liked by creator

-> yourusername i'll still do that, what are best friends for? 💕 liked by creator

-> user9 i love her sm

-> user10 i love their friendship

zayn my boy finally got the girl liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 such a romantic way of saying it

-> user11 so real of them

niallhoran romeo and juliet minus the dying liked by creator

-> user12 so slay of niall to be here

harrystyles wanna write songs about you and him with me? liked by creator

-> yourusername check our chat 🥰

-> user13 HS4?????

-> user14 featuring y/n?

-> user15 y/n in her singer and songwriter era?

-> user16 oh, i am SO here for this

joaofelix79 congratssss liked by creator

charles_leclerc don't your dare break her heart, verstappen liked by creator

-> user17 he wouldn't

-> maxverstappen1 i wouldn't, she'll be my woman forever

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A/N: woooooo!!! second story in two dayssss!! thank you so so much to everyone who liked and reblogged my story, and thank you to everyone who follows me now <333 let me know if you have requests or you want to be on my permanent tag list!!!

[druid-in-hiding]

Long-time listener, first time caller.

Anti-civ/anarcho-primitivist here, to answer questions / explain some stuff and I apologize in advance for setting some stuff in a longer format than I want, but I gotta.

Because there’s a lot anti-civ folks who are flat out lost in what correlates to fascist-land. (to add to @mobilesuitgudang’s comment, add to tropical diseases something like Type 1 diabetes, fibro-myalgia, psoriatic arthritis, etc. and then say “but only the most prepared should survive!” Fuck that noise. If you can’t handle sick or disabled OR the elderly, why the fuck are you screaming for the end of civilization. Think it through, people. Yeesh—meant as a note to anti-civ folks who are not me, to be clear)

Wiki tracks anti-civ sentiment to critiques by Rousseau and Horkheimer, and while they present some interested commentary (based on the horrible flawed “Enlightenment”), that’s not my entry to anti-civ.

The modern “founders” of the anarcho-primitivist movement can be properly dropped into four authors: Daniel Quinn, John Zerzan, Derrick Jensen, and Ted Kaczynski. Some later folks, like Paul Shepard, John Fillis, and Richard Heinberg offered up their take on what they think made the world go askew.

You could also lump Masanobu Fukuoka, David Abrams, and Rob Hopkins in there if you want, but they are more interested in practical applications rather than general philosophy.

In general, they tend to blame agriculture / domestication for the rise of civilization. But more specifically, they promoted hard different origins to get back to a “state of nature” (wtf is that exactly?).

Zerzan argued it was “abstract language”. Quinn pointed at agriculture. Jensen thought it was cities. Kaczynski went after post-industrial revolution tools (Fillis did too). Shepard went for domestication. Heinberg went for addiction psychology. (Note: I liked Quinn the best and he was my entry, but, oh the flaws… I’ll get into that later)

Looking at all of the above, you can probably spot the big glaring issues: none of those authors really managed to lay out a path that was rooted in the actual material reality of the world or in the understanding of it based in anthropology or archeology or even the lived experiences of the indigenous people that anarcho-primtivism lauded.

Quinn, which is the primary author that inspired me, spent his whole life trying to puzzle this out, leading to some inspired conversation and fellowship. Jason Godesky and Peter Bauer laid out some very, very interesting dialogues based on those conversations.

Zerzan promotes getting rid of “abstract language” which is, oh, impossible and unreasonable.

Kaczynski decided to blow people up.

Derrick Jensen joined up with Lierre Keith to create a movement that completely reviles trans folks and “leftists” and supports members who ally with literal fascists. Gee… “good” job changing the world there, buddy. (deep, frustrated sigh, since I hold a virulent hatred of the DGR TERFs)

A 50/50 “success rate” (success being defined as not turning fascist/uselessly violent) is not a good fucking look, let me tell you.

So why do I still consider myself an anarcho-primitivist?

I’m going to start with a premise most folks in the Global South would agree with: this shit is not sustainable.

The Global North literally exists as a plunder-machine. Every advance is at the expense of the rest of the world, which includes a hell of a lot of people in the so-called civilized north. But WHY is it unsustainable?

Breaking it down, any city—which can be defined as a static collection of humans living on a plot of land that cannot provide the resources those humans need to survive—is inherently unsustainable.

The earth isn’t here to provide people with infinite resources. Even in the most sustainable cultures, there were times when the most basic supplies were scarce. In a sustainable culture, if everything ran down to damn near nothing, there were options, because you set up your landscape to give you those options. “Starvation” foods (which might kill you but are a last ditch often), inferior building materials, “dirty” water sources that normally would be left alone. Enhanced trading…

But cities rely solely on imports. They MUST because their population is too dense for the land to support them. So if they’re going through it and their neighbors maybe can’t trade, what are they going to do?

They’re going to go to war.

And inevitably, by using up the resources around them without renewing them properly (which happens when you go to war consistently), they—and their culture—collapse.

There is no civilization on the face of the planet that has lasted more than a few thousand years at best. Most are locked into a vastly shorter time frame. There are “uncivilized” cultures, though, that have been around since time immemorial… and that means, in some cases, for tens of thousands of years. That doesn’t meant those cultures haven’t changed. It means they have persisted across multiple near-extinction events due to good planning.

Not excellent planning. Not miraculous or lucky planning. No. Just good planning.

Good planning that includes a strong connection to the landscape, which is easy to do if you are training yourself and your kids in very simple ways to pay attention.

No romanticized exaggerations of indigenous societies or mystical “appeals to nature” needed.

So if civilization has a major, lethal design flaw, why the fuck does it control most of the world? HOW did it get that way? Is it because wheat has “exorphins” which mimic opiates in the human system (cow milk has that too, btw)? Abstract language? Tech? Farming?

It’s so much simpler than that.

And it’s textual.

(But I DO understand why folks missed it)

Point the first: when you study “mythology”, you are studying the mytho-history of a culture. In this, exaggerated versions of actual events (for dramatic purposes, because folks were telling these around campfires and you want folks to remember) are mixed in with metaphors or direct instructions for whatever culture is telling those myths.

Every myth is part of a core instruction pamphlet for a culture. And most of those are obscured if you don’t live in the landscape that gave birth to those myths.

Why is that relevant here?

Point the second: The myths of the first “major” civilizations tell the story of what happened.

And it ain’t about farming or abstract language or technology.

It’s about fear.

Ever have something big and scary happen to you? What’s your first instinct? For most folks it’s to band together. Find friends or family or some other safe venue. Hells, look at major disasters: in most cases, people look for aid as others reach out and help. That’s part of what defines us as a people.

Abstract language helped us create stories as a framework to survive what otherwise would be unprecedented events.

Growing things is almost as old as mankind, INCLUDING indigenous societies growing crops.

Tech is just us being clever apes and manipulating resources so we can thrive. Fire is pretty much one of the first major tech that we had that helped make us human. The sole difference between then and now is that physical tech development was slower because any development was tested against whether it would upset the balance the culture had with the landscape they lived in. Now, people throw insane amounts of resources into inventing both smart AND stupid shit, not paying any significant attention to the fact that we are wrecking entire eco-regions.

So then, why cities? Why create something with tools that we already had (language, tech, gardening)?

Civilization is a social technology that occurs when an entire successful culture experiences a sincere and persistent shock.

Here’s the basics of the oldest myths (Babylonian, Sumerian), which reflect their cultural reality: they were facing horrific floods due to the end of the interglacial—which unfolded in different areas at different times—and many, many people were dying. Their chief technologist, in return for being made leader, cut irrigation ditches into the land which absolutely fucking devastated everything they used to use to survive. However, having planned for this, he replaced the old food with some mono-crops, specifically lots of wheat. The fact that wheat could also be made into beer also took the edge off of a suffering people.

If we were to put this technologist into a modern perspective, we would say Marduk/Anu was an ardent atheist. His first command was “fuck the gods. We kill them. We owe them nothing. They owe US!”

Even with that success, the sheer amount of labor that had to be put into the system led to an initial failure. Until they located a nearby culture that was even in worse shape (starving to death), so they enslaved them and called them “humans” (calling themselves “gods”). To these “gods”, they were doing the humans a favor. And the humans fucking owed them for it. Forever.

And thus it began.

Every city from that branch, since then, has been locked into this cycle. It requires a slave branch and it requires war and expansion to survive. But it can’t survive so it collapses. The people trained in being civilized don’t know of any other options so they build another city elsewhere and the cycle goes on and on and on.

Contrast that with other city experiments: the Anasazi or Cahokia or even the Mayans. The tech was tested, it failed, and a bunch of them went “meh. Back to another kind of culture we go.”

Which leads me to my point.

We are locked into a failing technological branch, specifically a social technology. All of the benefits of civilization that most people talk about are physical technologies which may have been invented over time (because technology DID advance without civilization) or may be infeasible because it’s simply too hard of a drain on local resources… which means that when a civilization collapses (and it will!), your precious tech is fucked.

If you doubt that, watch some of those History Channel B.S. shows where they talk about aliens setting up this or aliens setting up that. It’s pretty much 90% racism (“those primitive people couldn’t be THAT smart) that highlights how smart the people actually were.

Yes, ancient people made cool shit. They also abandoned a bunch of it when it turned out to be not what they needed or wanted to maintain.

When you see civ for what it is—a failed technological branch and a social technology at that—you recognize that we MUST create something different because the system-as-is will collapse and that is a vastly worse scenario than creating something new.

re: abstract language, we can and should use it to reconnect to the world. The reason why people used to talk about “spirits of the land” and have “gods in the world” is because, at it’s heart, it is a way to have people empathize with the landscape so that they can pay attention to it and maintain it. The minute you start treating it as inherently hostile or worthless (except in its utility. I see the flaws in you, communism. :P ) you create a situation where a culture can simply take, take, take, until the culture collapses. Which is what we are currently locked in.

re: farming, farming is just stupid gardening. It doesn’t mean you can’t grow things. It doesn’t even mean you can’t mono-crop. What it does mean is that you should work with your eco-region and the animals within it to encourage diversity so that if, say, a hard winter or dry summer or other uncommon occurrence happens, you don’t lose everything.

Humanity did go from a glacial period to an interglacial, by the way. We have done this shit before.

re: tech, it’s as simple as EROEI; is the energy invested in creating and maintaining your tech worth the return? I would argue that communication technologies are vital because they allow clever people to pass along successful ideas and their failures. Transport is less vital than you think. Medicine is more but there’s a lot of localization that can occur. Weapons are, more often than not, a ridiculous way to keep stupid people in power.

So if I believe in the above, why am I using a technological device in the Global North? Simply put, two reasons: (1) humans are built as social animals and you need a culture around you to thrive… and a new culture like that doesn’t exist yet. And (2) as long as civilization maintains a stranglehold on the planet, it doesn’t matter how many new cultures pop up because they are all at risk by a bad social technology that must steal from them to survive (poorly).

I am in absolute agreement that there are plenty of anti-civ “leftist/post-leftist” anarcho-primitivists that go done a remarkably fascist pipeline. In part because in the Global North everyone is stewing in fascism all the time (thanks civ!). But also because the fascists are seeking a way out of this as well. The fascists, though, are seeking control and “righteous purges” along the same line that literally started civilization. So the fascists will walk right into the same fucking trap Anu set so long ago, going “This time we’ll get it right.”

Spoilers: they won’t.

If you run across an anti-civ person who is going “tech all bad!”, “overpopulation must go!”,”the strong must survive”, throw their ass my way and I’ll try to set them straight.

They are flailing around in the deep end of a pool of ideas.

The truth is much, much simpler.

The solution, though, is vastly more complex and I don’t have all those answers. I wish I did. My job, at the moment, is trying to dig out some European root philosophies to force Northern culture to re-think its bullshit ideologies. Wish me luck. Please. Cause I’m gonna need it.

Which is why I post things like this on tumblr.

Hellscape though it might be, at least we are all mad here.

We’re all in this together.

if, when i was less online, or rather online in non-english speaking communities, you would've mentioned a fringe ideology whose adherents believe that overpopulation is real and must be stopped (with all the racist preconceptions this implies), that mandatory vaccination is too oppressive, that the way to deal with societal problems is through individual direct action and that those most prepared should thrive, that we live in a time of degeneracy and must dismantle society to return to an idyllic state of pastoral communion with nature, i would've assume you were talking to me about capital f Fascists, you know, not about leftists, much less anarchists. but no, apparently anti-civs count as leftists and anarchists. i was very surprised because i never encountered one of those in my country, nor any of its neighbouring countries, not in any of their neighbouring countries. but then again, i'm south american and i didn't move around fascist circles and i never ascribed to reddit ideologies

[lustlovehart]

Hi! It's me again, I was wondering after recalling some stuff about reader and Rollo how would the twst monster cast react to Reader, I don't know, them asking about the earring she's always wearing and her telling them is from her partner (house husband). I mean, I know they'd react hella jealous but in different ways.

I know is annoying buuuut I like to imagine a what if, instead of going all alone towards the missions, Crowley allowed Rollo to accompany her and meeting all this creatures and Rollo being the bad (hater) policeman and Reader the (extremely) good one.

I'm sorry for asking so much Rollo 😭😭 it's just that he's so silly!

I love your works sooo much! And also how you draw the M!cast, they're all so pretty!! Love love 🫶

Cw: Jealousy, Marking mentions, gaslighting, Obsession, Rollo torturing Epel at the end

Omg! What a coincidence getting this ask after just writing a jealousy prompt in my inbox 😭

I’ve made it pretty consistent that you’re always referencing Rollo some way in your daily life. So I love making characters hear his name once a week and twitch their eye(s) at his mention. But for the most part, they all do act jealous!

The Pouty/Angry jealous: Riddle, Ace, Ruggie, Floyd, Rook, Epel, Malleus, Sebek, Skully

Whenever you mention Rollo’s name, they’re quick to cross their arms, possibly even give you a stink eye. They’ll ask you what’s so great about this ‘work husband’, he did make you do this alone. If he really cared, he would’ve came with you right? He might’ve cared for you at the foundation, but now he just threw you to the dangers of the world. They would never do that to you… So stop talking about him already.

The Sad jealous: Deuce, Cater, Jack, Azul, Kalim, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Neige, Fellow, Skully

The moment they see the way your face lights up looking at that star pattern fabric in your hand, they feel something. For some of them, it’s guilt, they can’t give you what he can, so maybe… he’s the better option for you than they are (Deuce, Jack, Silver, Neige, Skully). For others, they’re sad at the feeling of envy in their heart. It’s really not fair… This Rollo, gets to see everything side of you, your happiest, your saddest, your angriest, even your dearest. They want to see it too… Won’t you let them?

The ‘I’m just gonna leave my mark on you too’: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jade, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Malleus, Lilia, Neige, Chenya

So, he gives you that earring. You won’t take it off. Ok. Easy fix, they’ll do something much more obvious. Whether it’s wrapping you in themselves, drawing a symbol of their soul on you, adorning you in their clothes/feathers, or even simply using their mouths, they’ll be more seen. He hopes if when you return to him, Rollo sees this mark.

Why be jealous when murder is a capability: Malleus

I hope everyone noticed he’s in each section, and he does go through these in the exact same order. Essentially, Rollo’s house sees no mercy, nor does his garden, or himself when he steps foot outside. Lightning… everywhere. Rollo get’s a certain sense of who it’s from, and he has to be physically stopped by Crowley from leaving to find you.

LMAO I love the Good cop bad cop energy Rollo and Reader would have if they went out together. Rollo is essentially the overprotective third wheel who blocks any potential suitors from you.

Anytime you’re nice to them, it’s immediately cancelled out by Rollo doing something devious.

An example:

You: Letting Epel drink your blood for like 2 minutes.

Rollo: Stabs him through the heart with a stake, Throws garlic at him, touches him with a silver fork, leaves him in the sun, places crosses on him, and dumps holy water on him. But places a really worn down bandaid on it because you’d be upset at him. He dgaf abt Epel 💀

Bonus: Rollo and Reader Dynamic

Synopsis: Absolutely smitten with you, and everyone else hates it 💀

[aisquaredchoco]

Advent gifts out in the wild! Thank you everyone for participating!

To the ones who missed out the 12-day event, or just wanted to revisit the goodies, here's everything under one post. Enjoy! 🎅

More info below the cut..

🎄 DAY 1: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations"

This rug actually has five presets (I said only four in the advent post *facepalm*), where one preset has only one channel, three have varying color channels, and another one that is not recolorable. Found in Decor > Rugs, costs §430.

🎄 DAY 2: Cozy Patio Table

I made this table using the legs from the "Deluxe Cozy Terrarium" from Outdoor Living, then put a glass top and voila! A cozy patio table. Five slots as with any 1x1 dining table with one channel. Found in Surfaces > Dining Tables, costs §200.

🎄 DAY 3: 4to3 Snowy Escape "Bamboo Forest Fence"

Yep, we are still lacking various fences in TS3, hence converting this gem from Snowy Escape. Three channels, costs §25. Found in Build mode > Fences.

🎄 DAY 4: 4to3 "RAW Utensil Holder"

For the clutter lovers, here's something for your kitchen, if you also love the industrial accents from TS4 like me. Four channels, costs §430, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 5: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations"

This conversion took almost a year in the making and thought would never get finished, but here it is, finally ready to conquer your bathrooms! Four channels, costs §670, found in Plumbing > Sinks.

🎄 DAY 6: Outdoor Living "Class-E Dining Table" Unornated

I love the stuff from Outdoor Living, but why didn't EA make un-ornated versions of the furniture for variety? And so I did the work. Same channels and slots as the original, only differs in price which is now §825. Found in Surfaces > Dining tables. Outdoor Living not required.

🎄 DAY 7: 2to3 Apartment Life "BLOK Jr. Block from COGnition"

I miss the industrial/gearhead aesthetic from TS2:AL and this wall is one of those, so I converted it. Three channels, costs §11, found in Walls > Panelling.

🎄 DAY 8: Outdoor Living "The Poet's Respite" Unornated

Another un-ornated piece of furniture from Outdoor Living (I just couldn't stand the cursive elements sometimes @.@). Lowered the price to §300, everything else is left intact. Outdoor Living is also not required.

🎄 DAY 9: 2to3 Kitchen & Bath "Pots Descending from Ceiling"

I hate repeating myself, but yeah it's nostalgia that's the main reason why I convert 2to3 items. Especially from this stuff pack, I'd love to convert everything else left unconverted from it (but the counters stop me from doing so). Two channels, costs §160, found in Decor > Sculptures, Misc.

🎄 DAY 10: 4to3 Max20 Shark Plush Toy

I've been pondering if I should put this one up for download, because I couldn't find the original cc post to link. But having seen this 4to2 conversion, I figured I should also share it. Two channels, costs §100, found in Decor > Misc, Kids > Misc. Credits to Max20 for the original TS4 creation.

Fun fact: I own a real life counterpart of this plushie (I got this as a secret santa gift), and now my cat has already claimed it as his property. 🐱🦈

🎄 DAY 11: Ambitions "Le Sconce" made fully CAStable

I hate it when EA decides to make an object part unrecolorable when there are actually many ways to redesign it, like in this default replacement I did on a mirror. This wall lamp now has the emblem CAStable, and also edited the mask into three channels for a more versatile recolorability. This is a default replacement, so you need Ambitions for this to work properly.

🎄 DAY 12: 4to3 "The Centurion"

Need something to fill your dining room but too lazy to decorate it using shelves and clutter? Say no more! This pre-decorated hutch from TS4 is now also available for TS3! Three channels, costs a hefty §1880 (why EA?), found in Decor > Sculptures.

POLYCOUNT INFO:

Tres Rugs by Sleek Sensations: 80 (hLOD)

Cozy Patio Table: 526 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

Bamboo Forest Fence: 44 (main)/48 (diagonal)/12 (post)

RAW Utensil Holder: 250 (hLOD)/220 (mLOD)

FaceBowl by Sleek Sensations: 1356 (hLOD)/877 (mLOD)

Class-E Dining Table Unornated: 750 (hLOD)/257 (mLOD)

The Poet's Respite Unornated: 994 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

Pots Descending from Ceiling: 2122 (hLOD)/1190 (mLOD) (!!!)

Max20 Shark Plush Toy: 750 (hLOD)/444 (mLOD)

The Centurion: 420 (hLOD)/360 (mLOD)

DOWNLOAD FOLDER: Simfileshare | Mediafire

*All converted items contain catalog descriptions from their respective original games.

**I would also like to thank @simlicious for her wonderful selection of Christmas themed patterns, one of which I used on the wall in the previews, found here. Please check out her website if you haven't yet..

[meelusinee]

A YULE PROPOSAL | J.P X READER

word count \ 1.1k | fluff and stuff | slash / james potter x reader

in which james asks you out to the Yule Ball author's note at the end!

A YULE PROPOSAL | JAMES POTTER X READER

James Potter was many things.

He was a cheerful kind of person. Always upbeat, always uplifting no matter what. He was popular, almost anyone wanting to be with him or be him. A bit of a jock, though caring nonetheless. Loving to a fault, fault line nonexistent in his mind.

Though one thing that anyone could tell when looking at him was that he was in love with you. 

You were always being spoiled by him. He’d get you expensive gifts, or take you on expensive trips. Small cafe dates, shopping for clothes and jewelry, or making any small gift was a specialty of his. He adored spoiling you, in any sense of the word.

And now it was Yule season coming up. He was nervous to ask you, even though he knew you'd say yes. You two were dating, after all.

So, he had to come up with a plan.

“Are you serious James?” Remus asked, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion and desperation. “You don’t actually expect us to do this, do you?”

���Yup!” he smiled brightly at Remus. “You’re gonna do it with me, right Pads?”

“Course I am!” he chuckled brightly, standing up and patting James on the back proudly. “Anything to spend my mom’s money on useless stuff.”

“It’s not useless!” he gasped offendedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, patting James on the head as best as he could. It wasn’t much, but it was an honest effort. “Whatever you say, Prongs.”

“Course it’s what I say,” he grumbled before sighing, looking at Remus and Peter. “Please?”

“10 Galleons.” Remus said sternly, holding his palm out. “I want payment or I’m not doing it. 20 and I’ll give you the best damn performance.”

“30 and I get to dress you up.” Sirius smirked, hands on his hips.

“50.” he said, voice as deadpanned as he could make it. James knew he would do it for free, that was what Remus was like. But this seemed too funny to interrupt, if he was being honest.

“Deal.” Sirius said with a wide smirk on his face, fiddling with his pockets before putting the 50 Galleons in his hand. “Pete? 50 Galleons?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“Nope.” Sirius said with a smile.

Peter sighed softly, shaking his head. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Sirius said excitedly, him and James jumping up and down.

“Okay, I have a game.” he said, pulling out a large piece of rolled paper to lay against the Common Room’s coffee table.

There was a large amount of rain hitting your window, your eyes focused on the paper that you were studying. It was nearing the end of the exams, not just Yule season.

Speaking of Yule season, you were quite excited. James hadn’t asked you to go to the ball. You knew that it was probably just stress though, so you weren’t too mad about it.

He had exams just like you, not to mention leading the Quidditch team and tolerating his friends’ pranks. Most times, you weren’t sure how he did it.

All in all, he had a lot of responsibilities.

Which is why you didn’t mind if he didn’t ask you to go to the ball. You decided to take a break from studying, looking outside of the window. Your eyes squinted to look at the different trees and forms of nature outside, the breeze running through your room.

“M’lady!” 

Your eyes squinted a bit harder as you heard someone calling, looking down at the ground. There stood Peter, one of James' friends. 

You stuck your head out of the window confusedly, looking down at him. “Pete?”

“M’lady!” he smiled brightly, though a bit awkwardly.

You chuckled at that, though you weren’t sure why he was standing in the cold like that. “Why are you just standing outside?”

“I am awaiting the Majesty.” he said, voice echoing through the night. 

“The what?” you smiled awkwardly.

Then came the sound of neighing, though you could tell it wasn’t from an actual horse. You frowned, making your way downstairs and towards the door he was standing in front of.

“What on Earth,” you muttered confusedly.

There stood James with Remus and Sirius behind him, all three of them riding the fake pony sticks you’d buy as a child at a muggle store. 

“We are here on behalf of Your Majesty, James Potter.” Sirius called out, dismounting himself from the fake horse. “He has requested your presence at the annual Yule Ball hosted in the Great Hall.”

“That rhymed,” Peter said with a small smile, chuckling softly. Sirius laughed loudly at that, with Remus stealing the paper from his hand.

“M’lady,” he said. “Sir James Potter, son of Fleamont Potter and first of his name, formally invites you, Y/N L/N, to the Yule Ball. Filled with fond fellowship and fellow acquaintances at the end of this month.”

James was standing behind Remus with a hopeful grin, the smile that you had come to love more than anything after years together.

“What is your response, Madame?” Remus said. His voice was incredibly deadpan, unlike Sirius and Peter’s laughter in the background. No doubt that he had practiced this.

“Yes,” you chuckled softly, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out what was going on. In all honesty, you felt like you were in a fever dream.

“Yes!”’James cheered excitedly, jumping up and down and running around the field. Sirius followed after him in his dog form, barking excitedly as James cheered excitedly.

You chuckled quietly as you watched him run around, smiling as Peter came closer and crowned you with a paper crown.

“Thank you, Knight Pete.” you chuckled.

James eventually calmed down after a couple of minutes, walking up to you out of breath. “Hi love,”

“Hi James,” you laughed as you saw him try to catch his breath, moving the hair out of his face as best as you could. “Did you have fun?”

“I did!” he smiled gleefully, looking at you. “Did you?”

“Yes, I did.” you smiled softly.

He nodded, pulling you into a hug. “I love you,” he whispered in your ear, squeezing your body in his arms. “I really wanted you to have a good proposal. It did take me some time to think of it though.”

You smiled softly, hugging him back before you heard Sirius groaning.

“Lovebirds!” he groaned, making a ‘bleh’ sound. 

“Oh hush!” James called out, throwing a ball of paper at him before turning over to you. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Later.” you promised, kissing his lips.

He smiled brightly at that, mounting his fake sticky horse and running off. Remus said a rather fancy farewell to you, climbing on the back of Sirius’ horse and running off. Peter was last, following them all to wherever they came from.

God, you loved James.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thanks for everything yawl are doing, it's really so amazing just how supportive all of you guys are! it's really shocking sometimes, to be honest wit you. thank you all so much, and hopefully you enjoyed!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, and reblog! have a happy new year lovelies!

[just-some-random-blogger]

I cannot tell you how absolutely excited I was to see your reblog 😩😩😩😭😭😭🫶🫶🫶💓💓💓 I woke up to it and got heart palpitations

First off, omg Desi wedding? You're Desi? What a slay that must have been so much fun!!! I hear they are very elaborate and BIG so I can only imagine why it took so much for your time 🫶🫶🫶 super happy you still spare some for me 🥺👉👈

Okay, can I just start off by saying 🥺🥺🥺😩😩 I've missed your reblogs. I love it when people requote my stuff back. I LOVE to see what they think of my work. When I write, there are lines where I'm like yeah the girlies are gonna eat this shit up, but then again there are also lines where I'm like pls pls pls let people understand what I'm trying to put down.

You seem to always catch SOOOO MUCH of what I'm tryna put down and it makes me so so so happy fr fr that I can count on 🫵 you 🫵 to get me even if no one else does.

Of course perhaps more people understand me but you're the only one who ever says so and I appreciate it so much 🫶🫶

Daemon being twice as unnormal because he is lovesick be like 🫨 I think I had an ask about Rhaenyra and YN regarding this fic so them having a relationship might be something I might look into

Girl bye, daemons disregard for rhaenyra is making me feel good about the man whore that is daemon 😋😋

THIS HAS ME GAGGED AHHAHA

Something about how daemons intentions have perhaps always been misunderstood growing up and he's always been labeled as cruel/heartless so he stopped explaining himself. He had to bury that soft exterior and only knows how to give commands and now he's subconsciously commanding his wife to stop praying for her death. But she won't get to know it because it would seem like a weakness.

AND THIS ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😩😩😩😩

IM PASSING MY DRAFTS TO YOU, YOU CAN CONTINUE WRITING THE STORY. IM NOT EVEN JOKING THIS CHANGED MY BRAINS CHEMISTRY. IM NOT JOKING IM NOT IT REALLY GOT ME GAGGED

Him fighting different versions of himself as well is SOOO GOOD. Stunning observation. Beautifully said. I would have just called him emotionally constipated. To be fair, YN is too, though at least she tries not to be. It's hard to get out of it when everyone is fucking sick in the head

No, stop. I will never get over how she instinctively reached for her father. And how Otto reacts to it like it's muscle memory (it is). Because Otto is her father, she has been raised being loved, protected and shielded by him. And Otto has spent her whole life doing exactly that.

10/10 no notes. Otto and his twisted form of love cos he's greedy and ambitious as you have CORRECTLY OBSERVED FROM HOW HE IS USING ALICENT.

Also you wanting daemon to hear rumors of yn's death is cRAZYYYYYY I LOVE IT YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA DO IT. DAMN GIRL I KNEW I WANTED TO WAIT FOR YOUR REBLOG BEFORE UPDATING 😩😩😩 that would have been so gooooodd if I managed to add it ughhh. Dw dw I am an artiste I can make do. Also with him overhearing her fear UGHHHH YOUR MINDDDDDDDDD

I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THE NECT CHAPTERS MY LOVE IM SO EXCITED YOU HAVE NO IDEA

Tormented Spirit | 9

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN. T_T canon stuff/medieval health care might not be accurate so ROLLLL with it ok. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon takes you to the dining room, and upon entering, you are met with Rhaenyra and Alicent, who were in the middle of eating lunch. For a split second, you are happy to see them both, but then you remember the horrible news regarding the princess's mother.

Daemon is taken off-guard by how you pull away from him. He knits his brows, following after you as you head towards his niece, deeply annoyed by how easily you disregard him. But upon hearing the words you speak, he freezes.

"My deepest condolences, my princess," you curtsy at Rhaenyra before placing a hand on her shoulder.

She is dejected and her eyes are sullen as she turns to you.

"She was in active labor last I saw her..." you shake your head, finding the words to say, "it is terrible to be without a mother," you turn to your sister, placing a hand on her shoulder as well, "the pain never quite leaves you. My sister and I know it well."

Rhaenyra turns back to her food, "how good to know."

You frown and crouch down beside her, "darling."

Rhaenyra slowly turns back to you, tears now falling from her eyes.

"Pain is difficult... but I've come to realize," you swipe her cheek, "it makes peace all the more precious." You chuckle under your breath when your own eyes begin to water, "I would know."

Alicent frowns, quickly feeling her own eyes well up at the display.

The same happens to Daemon. He watches three girls weep and his face hardens as he comes to Rhaenyra's side, "bisa tolī kessa rēbagon, ñuha riña." This too shall pass, my girl.

Rhaenyra turns to her uncle as he grabs her hand, heavy tears stream down her face, "ziry ōdragon." It hurts.

Daemon is supposed to say something, but then he notices Alicent begin to fuss over you. You softly brush her off as you come to stand. Alicent is quick to stand with you, and she is glad to have done so, because you nearly topple back.

Rhaenyra's hand is quickly dropped when Daemon comes to your side, calling out your name. You sheepishly turn to him, apologizing over and back as he escorts you to a seat.

Rhaenyra stares at you as her uncle sits you in the chair across her She watches how Daemon treats you, thinking she's never seen him treat anyone like this before, much less a lady. It makes her sorrow all the more sour.

He brushes your back but only calms after your food is served and he's seen you eat a few bites. He takes a goblet of wine but his eyes remain fixed on you, "better?"

You turn to him, sheepish, still, "I am. Thank you, darling."

Alicent's eyes widen at the sound of the pet name. Rhaenyra rolls her eyes with a huff. It is precisely that sound that makes you realize what you've said. You were used to referring to Alicent and Rhaenyra that, it came so naturally this moment, "I- I mean-"

"Where is your father?" Daemon turns to Rhaenyra, seemingly not noticing your slip up. He did notice, but why wouldn't you call him darling?

Rhaenyra clenches her jaw as she shakes her head, "mourning his lost heir."

Both you and your husband's face fall. You turn from the princess to the prince, reaching for his hand. Daemon clutches your hand as his brows constrict, "your brother is dead?"

"Just last night," Rhaenyra absentmindedly stirs her food, "his and my mother's funereal will be held in a few hours."

Your heart hurts for her, "my deepest sympathies for your losses, princess."

There is a thick silence for a moment. You all find it quite hard to eat, but you do so regardless. You force feed yourself through the unpleasant churn in your belly. After a while, you look across the room, finding that it looked everyone was experiencing the same thing. You break the silence, turning to your sister, "perhaps Alicent can accompany you to the temple to pray. It did always help me."

Alicent turns to Rhaenyra, but she does not react.

Your sister looks back at you and you give her a nod of encouragment. Alicent thinks for a moment, "a walk there would be good for you as well."

You smile at the red haired girl.

"My prayers are terrible," Rhaenyra mumbles.

You huff and frown at the thought, "it is impossible. No prayer is terrible, especially not one spoken in earnest."

Rhaenyra remembers how her septa would use you as an example for praying. She sniffles, "would you join us, aunt?"

You perk and immediately nod, "I would love t-"

"No," Daemon quips, placing his silverware down, "I do not want to be subjected to tolling bells and incense."

You all turn to him as Daemon turns to you. You slowly shake your head, "if... that is the case, you do not have to come."

Daemon's eyes widen ever so slightly in offense.

"Perhaps you can wa-"

"Kesan daor mītepagon ao ñuha ābrazȳrys," I will not lend you my wife, says Daemon to Rhaenyra.

You turn from your husband to his niece. Rhaenyra looks back at you, "he says he will not lend you to me."

Your lips part, giving him a look, "Daemon."

"She has your sister," he turns to you, "if they need another companion, lend her your ward."

A long silence passes.

Rhaenyra stares at her half-empty plate and decides that's as much as she'll ever get to eat in this moment. She pushes her chair back and stands, "I'm quite finished," she looks between the table. Alicent takes a final spoonful before standing as well.

"Raqagon aōha ābrazȳrys, kepa," enjoy your wife, uncle, Rhaenyra says as she walks off. Alicent follows after her, and both girls look at you as you stand to greet them goodbye. Daemon simply looks at his niece.

Rhaenyra, though she always harbored a special affection towards her uncle, could not find it in her to project her ire out on you, for you were nothing but kind to her, and after all, you were her closest friend's older sister. She nods at you as she leaves, "princess."

"Princess," you nod back and do the same for Alicent, "sister. Take care of each other."

Once they are gone, you sit back down and glare at Daemon.

It takes a moment for him to realize it. When he catches your look, his brows contort. You immediately quip, "would it very hard for you to stomach the ambience of the temple for an hour?"

Daemon turns back to his plate. He thinks of the night he came to you at the temple, "just because I came for you does not mean I wish to do the same for Rhaenyra."

You knit your brows deeply, not having a clue on what he's saying, "what?"

The image of sorrowful wailing still haunts him, and your prayer for death is not something he wishes to hear ever again. You cannot pray such prayers if you are not in that fucking place, "I forbid you from going to the temple."

"You forbid me?" you ask, flabbergasted.

"It is my prerogative where I go, and-" he turns back to you, "where my wife does."

You stare at him for a moment. You feel frustration bubble in your belly, "Daemon."

Anger bubbles in his belly.

You reach for his hand and gaze upon him in confusion, "the child's mother is dead."

He looks at your hand before his away, "I knew her mother longer than she has."

You chuckle in disbelief, pulling your head back. He looks at you, jaw set and eyes glassy. You shake your head slowly, "that's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Daemon laughs, hurt by your sentiment.

"Her mother is dead," you shake your head rapidly, "she who taught her everything she kno-"

Daemon stands abruptly, jaw and fists clenched tightly, making you flinch. He stares at you for a long moment and you feel your breath begin to grow heavy. You slowly reach for his hand, half expecting him to rip his arm away. When he does not, you come to a stand, "Dae-"

"You impress me with your commitment to understand everyone else but I."

His words stab you like a spear through the chest. Your eyes begin to water, "is that what you think I'm do-"

"Then what?!" he snaps, tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

You begin to sob and you take his cheeks, "I'm trying to make you understand what I am thinking, why I want to go with Rhaenyra, because I know what it fee-"

"Do I not mourn?" Daemon swats your hand away from him. He quickly turns away when his tears begin to fall. He does not get to notice how you twitch at his action, nor how instantly your heart begins to race.

He walks off to the door, stopping for a moment, waiting for you to come after him. You do not.

More accurately, you cannot. You clutch your chest and try to calm yourself before you slip into a full blown attack. You force yourself to take five deep breaths, and thankfully, you do not feel light headed.

Daemon, too wrapped up in his self-suffering, does not even think to look at you and storms out of the dining room.

By the time the doors slam shut, you are able to bring yourself to go after your husband. You move as quickly as you can, convincing yourself sprinting was worth it if you managed to catch up to Daemon. The thing was, you were still a terrible runner, and it if wasn't hard enough to catch your breath, you were screaming out the prince's name as you did, making it doubly hard.

Daemon, on the other hand, did not have to try to walk as fast as he did. He is walking so fast, if anyone were to crash into him, they would shoot off and hurt themselves.

It doesn't take long for you to lose your breath, and though you didn't want to, your body to forces you to stop. You were so close. You managed to catch a whiff of Daemon's silver hair, but now everything was turning silver... then black. You reach to the side to lean against the wall, but you miscalculate your reach and shift your weight, only to slip and crash roughly onto the ground.

You're so out of breath, no sound comes out of you when you crash. The pain is immense, yet you are rendered mute. Your ribs throb at the impact of colliding against the stone floor. You do not know it, but your nose it bleeding too.

It's a wonder that you did not pass out. Or perhaps it was the gods' will for you to feel fibre of your body strangle itself from how your lungs struggled, as punishment for being unkind to your husband.

You do know know it, but two Gold Cloaks find you on the floor. They are quick to bring you to the maester's ward. You hear them explain to the measter how they found you, and you muster up your remaining energy to say, "Daemon... please."

The two Gold Cloaks understand and leave with the intent of sending your husband to you. They will not manage to find him till much later for he went off on dragonback.

You lie on one of the cots in the maester's ward, staring at the ceiling you've come to know all too well. You know your maester can do little to help you in this moment, but you are grateful for his care nonetheless.

"You mustn't strain yourself in your condition, your grace," the old man says, "you are carrying a child within you."

You tense at his words. Your sit up and straighten your back, rapidly shaking your head, "b-but, maester, how can that be? It cannot be."

He offers you a solemn look, "your father, Lord Hand, has made us monitor you-"

"He does not finish inside me," you quip and frantically motion, "he- he... he spills on my skin. How then can I be with child?"

The maester is taken aback by your confession. He does not give himself away though and calmly explains, "it is still possible for... the seed take root from premature ejaculation."

You are floored by this information. You shake your head in disagreement, "but— he will not believe me."

"He does not have to. It does not ch-"

"He will do everything to villainize me. He will accuse me of infidelity."

He frowns, "I can explain it to-"

"No!" you grab his arms, "you must not tell him! You must not tell a soul."

He pulls his head back, "your grace..." he brings your hands slowly off him, "you can only hide such a thing for so long."

You shake your head and bring yourself to stand, "it is a worry for another time."

"Wait- you cannot leave-"

"I cannot miss the queen's funeral."

The maester does his best to prevent you from leaving. He calmly tries to lead you back to bed and explain that no one would fault you for being unable to attend. You are persistent however and managed to get out of the room. Two other maesters come and try to reel you back in, and it is the same time your wards come running in.

News of you fainting had spread like wildfire, and both their faces were marked with avid worry. "Princess!" they call in unison.

"Make them release me!" you wail in exhaustion as you fight off the maesters.

"She cannot go," your maester says, "she is far too weak."

"Unhand her this instant!" Erryk barks, ready to forcefully shove the old men away from you.

The maesters pull away in shock and confusion as Erryk imposes upon them. Arryk is the one to keep you upright, and he is horrified by the state you are in. You lean into his armour, lulled by his hard steel as you sigh in exhaustion.

"You would subdue her in such a state?" Arryk snaps.

"She is hysterical," the maester says, "she is not strong enough to-"

"Aye, but she's strong enough to fight off 3 grown men?" Arryk grits his teeth as he keeps you upright, "have you not given her medication?"

He sighs, "there is no medication fo-"

"Then what business has she here?" Erryk raises his brows, "you'd keep her to rot?"

The man scoffs, "I am offended, ser, that you think you know better than I when it comes to the health of the princes."

"I do know better," Erryk snaps, "you will not treat her like a prisoner if she asks to leave again."

"Ha!" the maester snaps, "fine! I'm sure the days you've spent gutting men has made you learned in the ways to heal them, ser."

With that, the maesters leave and you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders. You sigh as Erryk turns to you, seeing the hardness of his face soften in real time. You frown, "you should not have done that."

"My duty?" he narrows his eyes, "they had you surrounded like a criminal."

Arryk nods, "I fear they might have bruised you."

You sigh, fighting back tears. You steel yourself away and shake your head, "I should prepare for the funeral."

You do just that and Erryk and Arryk escort you to the funeral. You immediately spot Daemon, but he was stood beside his brother and niece, so you did not think it proper to interlope. You find Alicent standing just a few paces from Rhaenyra and debate to join her, but then you see the Lord Hand farther behind her, and you feel the need to cry.

"Papa," you mumble to yourself as you go to him.

Your father is quick to recognize your distress once you come to him, and quickly takes you under his arm. It is so instinctive, the Cargyll twins are shocked by it. They were supposed to keep close watch on you, but they decided to give you and your father privacy.

Otto had long decided physical affections were no use to you, and yet in this moment, he pulls you into him, securing one arm your shoulders. You press your cheek into his chest as you steal a glance at the king. Viserys stands before two lifeless bodies, and the sight mirrored that of the day your mother died.

You wrap your arms around your father.

He sighs, eyes throwing daggers at the Rogue fucking prince, "did he take the news badly?"

You shake your head, "I have not told him."

Otto sighs again, agitated and disappointed. His face is crestfallen as calls out your name, "what happened then?"

"I am terrified."

Your father tenses and clenches his jaw. He strokes your hair, doing his best to ignore the awful sounds you were making. "The gods with strengthen you, daughter." he turns to Alicent, "I will take care of it, my girl."

After the funeral, once Otto made sure you are taken care off, he goes to his other daughter and asks about the princess. Alicent is quick to explain to him that Rhaenyra is so much like you when your mother died, "I have not seen Rhaenyra in such a state."

Otto offers Alicent a soft smile, placing a hand on her cheek, "you are ever empathetic, daughter, to both the princess and your sister."

"Sister did not look well at the funeral either. I should check up on her."

"That won't be necessary," her father raises a hand, "I've seen to her already. She needs only to rest now."

Alicent slowly nods.

"You ought to offer some empathy to the king however."

The girl tenses at the thought.

"Unlike your princesses, the king does not have people to go to at this time. Even now, he's secluded himself in his chambers. It would be good of you to go to him from time to time, if only to express how you keep him in your prayers."

Alicent tries to make sense of it. She clenches her jaw, "wouldn't it be more appropriate for you to do this, father?"

He chuckles lowly, "how much sadder would he be if a widower offer another widower his bitter prayers?"

She stills at the thought and understands. Or so she thinks.

Otto smiles and places a hand on her shoulder, "it might be best if you keep private your visits to him. You need not explain your concern to Rhaenyra to further distress her."

She nods in understanding. In truth, she does not understand the true intentions of her father, and will not until it is far too late.

As this was happening, you were trying to get ahold of Daemon. You could not for he was quick to leave the funeral right after it concluded. He had seen you crying to your father and wanted to wash his eyes with alcohol, unwanting to behold such a gruesome sight. It stung far too much that you sought comfort in that cunt face. Why didn't you cry to him instead?

Daemon washes alcohol down his throat instead with members of his City Watch at his favorite brothel. Mysaria is there to keep him company and though her touch and words are gentle, he cannot find solace in them like he once did.

The two guards who had found you on the floor earlier today hear about the gathering and go to the prince to tell him what had happened to you.

"Your grace."

Daemon sulks as he stares at a cup of wine. Mysaria, who was stood behind his chair, looks at the men then to the silver haired man, "my prince. These men want to speak to you."

"Wha-what for?" he snaps through a hiccup.

"Your wife, my prince," one says.

Mysaria stiffens, lips parting. She was not a stranger to Daemon's foul moods and prided herself in easily defusing them. It changed when he married the Hightower girl. Though it was evident most of his frustrations stemmed from you, you were too much of a touchy subject, which is why she says, "I do not think he wants to talk about her."

"A whore should not meddle with concerns she cannot understand."

Mysaria scoffs, thinking about how Daemon fucked her once and called out his bride's name. When she brought it up after, he screamed, telling her he doesn't pay her to ask questions. She steps back and crosses her arms, "be my guest then."

One of the two guards lean forward in an attempt to gain the attention of the distracted man, "prince Daemon. We wished to report something regarding your wife."

Daemon ticks. He had been gazing into space, but now he has the wits to pours himself a drink, "is she dead now too?"

The two are taken aback. Mysaria steps back a few paces.

"N-no, your grace. But she-"

"Then do not FUCKING mention her to me!" Daemon snaps, jolting from his seat. His scream was loud enough to cause the noise to cease. He grabs his cup and downs his drink in one go. He then pushes past the two guards and begins to monologue.

"The gods give as the gods take," he says, voice horse and eyes misty. "Try as they may, I am not so easily replaced."

The room is solemn as they look upon the prince. He is clearly distraught and wholly drunk.

He stares at his cup, "wine does not taste sweeter with tears. Tonight, we drink to the Heir For A Day..." he burps, "perhaps he would have liked wine."

Back in the keep, as Alicent leaves her father's quarters, you go to them, which is why you cross paths. She is concerned by how you lean into ser Cargyll's arm as you walk, and immediately comes to your side, "sister?"

"Alicent," you smile, immediately perking up.

"Lady Hightower," the knight greets her.

"It's ser Erryk," you playfully whisper with a smile.

Alicent turns to you and offershim as soft smile, "ser Erryk."

"You spoke to father, surely," you take her hand, making her look back at you, "is his mood grim?"

She shakes her head, "no. He is... relatively placid, I think."

"Good," you break away from Erryk. He assures you are firmly planted on your feet before releasing you, "I can talk to him then."

"Shouldn't you rather be resting?" she asks in concern.

"It is urgent. I-" you shake your head, "I cannot delay any further."

Alicent realizes then that your hair was fully undone and slightly messy now. You were also in your thick velvet robe, and it only causes her further concern. "I know I am not Gwayne, but if there is anything you wish to speak of," she squeezes your hands, "I am hear to lend an ear."

Your lips wobble, but you steel yourself away. You crush your sister into your arms and pepper her cheeks with kisses, "my sweet girl. I am five years your senior. I must lend you my ear." You pull away and cup her cheeks. You frown when you see her glassy eyes, "do not worry for me."

She chuckles rather sadly, "we help but worry always for those we love."

Erryk heart pinches at the solemn exchange of the two sisters. He is glad to know that at least one more person in your family loved you with gentleness. He makes mental note to encourage you to write to your brother.

When Alicent leaves, you take a breath before knocking on the Hand's door.

"Enter."

You walk in and find your father busy at his desk.

"Father."

Otto looks up at you, immediately coming to stand, "what's wrong?"

You close the door behind him, catching Erryk's encouraging gaze. He nods before you shut the door. You turn to you father, finding he was already walking towards you.

He takes your hand, inspecting you. He speaks your name carefully, and it softens your frigid demeanor, "what has happened?"

You smile sadly, "I cannot sleep."

He sighs, partially relieved it is nothing so severe. He walks towards the door, "I will have one of the maids send you warm milk and honey."

"There is something I must tell you," you say, making him stop.

He turns back you, antsy over your serious tone, "if it is regarding Daemon. Do not worry. I have designs to keep him on a leash."

You release his hand and turn to your feet.

His expression hardens. He knows whatever you have to say is grave because you can no longer look at him. He steps forward and takes your cheeks, "daughter."

You look up at him, face stained with tears.

"Go to bed," he wipes your cheeks, "you'll muster the nerve to tell your husband the news soon en-"

"He does not finish inside me, father."

"..."

"I've-" you choke on your breath, "I've spoken about it to the maesters and he's explained it is possible for the seed to take root from premature ejaculation but-"

"Have you strayed?" Otto tightens his hold a fraction.

You are aghast by his statement and rapidly shake your head, "father, I wou-"

"Then there is nothing to fear," he cuts you off, brows tensing, "your child will be born with silver hair and violet eyes, and-"

"Only I inherited your hair color," you mumble, beginning to tremble, "if my child looks too much like me—" you rapidly shake your head, "he will-"

"Enough," he snaps, shaking you slightly.

You chest begins to tighten.

Otto notices and brushes your hair out of your face. He recites the common prayer you used to pray with your mother, "Seven, hear me. Father, strengthen me. Mother, protect me. Warrior, d—"

"Defend me," you sigh, joining in, "Smith, mend me."

"Mend my daughter," Otto mumbles softly.

"Maiden, beautify me," you say together, "Crone, enlighten me. Stranger, guide me."

Otto nods and strokes your hair, "now breathe."

It takes a few deep breaths, but you are calm now. He leads you to the door and opens it. "Oh, good," he says, once spotting your ward, "you're not entirely useless."

Erryk walks over to you, ignoring your father completely as he takes you by the arm.

"Take her to bed and have some warm milk and honey served to her."

"Yes, my lord," he says, though not sparing the lord a glance.

You, however, do, looking back with a soft smile, "good night, father."

He is about to reply, but then comes a servant boy, holding a plate of crackers and cheese, who freezes at the sight of the crowded entry. He thinks he's made a mistake, so he turns to leave, but Otto raises a hand and beckons the boy over, "come."

The boy walks past you, mumble a soft, "milady."

You smile and nod, "good evening."

Erryk eyes him suspiciously as he enters the room but refocuses on walking you back.

Otto closes the door and the boy places the crackers on the table. The man circles 'round to his desk and sits down, "what news do you bring me today?"

"Prince Daemon at the brothel, milord," the boy says, rolling back and forth on his heels.

The Lord Hand's face twists in contempt. He pulls his desk open and procures a cold coin.

The boy gleefully takes it and begins to explain the events that take place.

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[accio-victuuri]

now it’s time for me to scream and cry about the lrlg post. it’s been so long! and the fact that it came to us in the new year, welcoming 2025 with good vibes! this is the perfect start. even if the conversations are random ( as they usually are ), it’s so comforting to read about. even if just for the sake of fiction. this is fitting cause earlier today, there was a screenshot going around of another celebrity’s assistant and she was using a bjyx related merch (nye show). so it’s either this person is a bxg or they know someone who is and they borrowed the bag. so yeah. we may have people who see and hear things. that was the point of the fake rumors from the start, those who know stuff can share.

which leads us to lrlg. my fave tho is the visibility of yibo’s staff. some are even assigning who’s who based on the nye photo that was shared. this is his inner circle and per the convos, they are also close to xz. to those who are confused, in the original text his staff are assigned different emojis. ⬇️⬇️⬇️

we have talked before about how important it is that their staff is coordinated. i really like how wyb is able to just leave xz with them and he can hold his own. it’s crucial that they can be open to a certain group of people and just be themselves.

• the part about accessories and reimbursement & the latest model didn’t make sense to me when i first read it. but then fans explained it as WYB gave each staff member a latest top-end iPhone (should be 16) and asked them to choose the accessories themselves and all the parts would be reimbursed. wow. such a generous boss! i mean, that’s usual for WYB. can i please apply? lol.

• this part. it’s so sweet i wanna slap them! how xz wouldn’t eat without wyb. it’s such a normal thing to do, but so important for them.

🟢 "Why aren't you eating yet?"

🔴 "It's only five minutes, you should be back in fifteen minutes."

and how yibo was like, why don’t you eat and he joked that it’s different when you are with your family member.

• how he was calling yibo dog because when he fed him his “gloves” were bitten through. how he also called him a pig ( which has it’s own lore ) . lol. they really love to clown each other. but yibo is his puppy tho, gouzaizai! and the fact that xz is feeding him. it’s not enough that xz will wait for him to eat together. he will also hand feed wang yibo. i mean. i hate it here. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

• there was mention of puppy printed pants and some are saying it could be this. well, let’s see who will wear something similar first.

• wyb asking if they ordered fruits, most likely for xz. he knows that xz loves it! he is so attentive!

• i was very interested in what they were eating. a fan said it’s most likely beijing roast duck. and it makes sense why xz had to wash his hands, why he was wrapping the food and feeding it to yibo. making sure they eat well is still a top priority on both sides.

• at the start of the convo, wyb was talking about buying gold jewelry for xz and it’s funny cause fans are saying it’s a fitting gift. we all know xz is the god of money and he is someone that seems to be very aware of finances. so the gift is not only in a romantic sense, but also practical. wyb knows this and it’s why he chose that.

i saw someone say it may be this. the gold is real.

• the part when wyb’s staff said xz is his (wyb’s) boss 😂😂😂😂 it reminded us of that cpn, when wyb’s bodyguards are looking and guarding xz instead of him.

• this ⬇️⬇️⬇️

🟢 "I'll pick you up in the afternoon"

🔴 "No need to worry about what time I'll be back"

🟢 "Call me when you're done"

yibo is so boyfriend i wanna cry. this is such a normal thing to do considering they have all the resources. but yibo still wants to do it himself. yibo the driver is here!!!!!

that’s all. maybe i missed some stuff and we may understand some of these better as the days go by. depending on the other clues that will be available to us in the future. again, you don’t need to believe any of this. don’t take it too seriously. bjyxszd. 💕

[thefallennightmare]

The Ties That Bind Us: Two

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit.*

•Parings• Noah Sebastian x Soulmate!Reader

•Word Count• 6,766

•Warnings• fluff, language, talks of death/cancer, angst, depression, dark thoughts, soft!Noah, smut that will include unprotected p in v, oral with both male and female receiving, hand jobs, and fingering. Pretty tame smut in this.

•Summary• Growing up, Noah’s grandparents told him the story of why everyone wore a red tie around their wrists and while theirs glowed while his didn’t.

“Yours will glow when you meet your soulmate, Noah.”

When someone moves in next door and catches Noah’s eyes immediately, he sees the red tie around her wrist glowing only to see his remains red. Convinced she’s not his soulmate, Noah tries hard to stay away from her yet small moments between them start to blossom. So much so, he can’t ignore the tie that binds them together

•Authors Note• Fair warning, this one will hurt.

SERIES MASTERLIST

TAG LIST

Song choice for the chapter just incase some of you won't know the lyrics

READER

“Eric?” I called out into the house as I stepped foot inside, two paper grocery bags in each arm. 

A quiet house always worried me because I was never sure what I would walk into. Whenever I went out without Eric, I made sure to constantly check the bind on my wrist to make sure it would still glow. My worst fear was the flow fading back to the pale red when I wasn’t with Eric. I knew it was inevitable especially with his sickness but there was this small sliver of hope inside of me that I clung to every day that we would be fine; Eric would be fine. 

Kicking off my shoes, I walked down the long hallway of our ranch style home towards our bedroom to notice the door was cracked and the soft sounds of the television echoed in the air. 

“Eric?” I spoke again, pushing open the door all of the way to see my husband laying in bed with a white fluff ball on his chest. 

“Ghost,” I sighed with my hands on my hips. “What did I tell you about laying on your dads chest? He can’t breathe with all your fluff on top of him?” 

Eric chuckled, which seemed to take a lot of strength, but he did his best to play it off. “It’s fine. It’s a little pet therapy.”

It had been a few weeks since we moved to Los Angeles and with the stress of the move and Eric’s rigorous chemotherapy, he felt like he needed some sense of comfort. So two days ago, we visited the local shelter and adopted Ghost. A two year old Maine Coon cat that left his fur on every possible surface. I never was a cat person but the moment I saw light return to Eric’s eyes the moment he held Ghost, I knew he needed the cat more than my dislike for them. 

Although, I’d never admit outloud how cute Ghost was. 

“I picked up some stuff for dinner. Are you hungry? I could make some soup,” I asked Eric after I laid in bed next to him. 

He left a weak kiss on my forehead. “I’m alright, my daisy. Don’t have much of an appetite.”

Even with his nickname for me, I frowned when I remembered how this morning's chemo took a lot out of Eric, hence why he’d been laid up in bed all day. While scratching Ghost’s chin, his favorite, I snuggled up closer to Eric and finally paid attention to what he’d been watching. 

“Flipping through Twitch channels again?” I couldn’t help but giggle. 

It was one of Eric’s favorite things to do. Watch other people live stream themselves playing video games. He used to do it years ago, before he got sick, and now that he didn’t have the energy to continue it Eric made the time to watch others. 

He nodded while wrapping an arm around me, tattooed fingers grazing up and down my arm. I did my best to cherish these moments because I wasn’t sure if it would end. 

It will end, Y/N. The doctors said-.

Forcing those thoughts away, I let time and silence pass between us as Eric clicked through different twitch channels, him casting it from his phone to the television above the fireplace in our bedroom. But when I saw a somewhat familiar face pop up on screen, I held a hand on Eric’s to stop him from changing it. 

“Wait. Isn’t that our neighbor?” I asked. 

The lines in Eric’s forehead creased as his ember eyes studied the screen for a moment. “Huh, it is. Noah Sebastian. He’s the one that’s in a band.” 

I gazed up at Eric with confusion etched on my brows. “How do you know that?” 

There was a smirk underneath his mustache. “I talk to the neighbors, Y/N.” 

Playfully rolling my eyes, I settled back into the bed so we could watch the live stream of our neighbors. Eric seemed fine to watch as well since Noah was playing one of his favorite games; Super Smash Bros. 

Besides the short conversation with Noah when we first moved in, I never spoke more than a few words to our neighbors. Besides the occasional hi or nice weather today. I wasn’t a very sociable person unlike Eric who always stopped to talk with anyone. Even with his sickness, he always found the time to go outside and talk with the neighbors. 

Noah was playing with someone I hadn’t recognized, only for Eric to tell me that it was one of Noah’s bandmates. 

“Nicholas,” Eric said. “He plays bass in the band. Nick plays the drums. They live in Virginia. The other roommate with the long hair and accent, Jolly, plays guitar.” 

I hummed during this little lesson about our neighbors. “I always wondered where Jolyl was from because of his accent.” 

“Sweden,” Eric informed. “Their band, Bad Omens, is about to release their second album. Which is why we hear music most of the day.” 

“What about the other two roommates? Jesse with the fruit and the other guy?” I asked. 

“Michael. They're in their own separate bands.” 

I nodded once the conversation seized and settled in again, watching the twitch stream. It was a calming vibe, even with Noah’s chaotic game play. When a loud crack sounded, Eric and I both broke out in laughter when Noah and Nicholas freaked out about a candle exploding on a shelf above his bed. 

“Oh shit, it’s on fire!” Noah bellowed while jumping onto his bed. “My whole shelf was on fire, dude!”

“How many people live in this house?” I asked when we watched a group of guys walk into Noah’s bedroom, him explaining what happened with the candle. 

Soft snores filled my ears causing me to glance up at Eric to see he’d fallen asleep, Ghost still on his chest. I left a kiss on this cheek and removed the beanie from his head so he could sleep comfortably. He used to have a head full of hair but since he started chemo, Eric shaved it off and wore the black beanie cap any chance he could. 

Reaching for his phone, I quickly followed Noah’s twitch channel and clicked off the television. 

“Are you hungry, Ghost?” I asked the feline as I rose from the bed, him following behind me with a harsh meow while we let Eric sleep the rest of the night away. 

NOAH

The sounds of the birds in the trees signing their soft songs brought a sense of peace and familiarity as I sat and lounged on one of the chairs in my backyard, browsing through my phone. The autumn winds blew through my hair and I reveled in how it brought a smile to my face. Summer came and went, taking with it the hot California heat and I could not be happier. I spent more time outside rather that in my bedroom because of it. 

Also for the off chance I caught sight of my neighbor. 

It had been almost a month since Y/N moved in. Since both her and Eric moved in. 

Her husband. 

Her soulmate. 

While I chatted with Eric a few times, I rarely spoke with Y/N besides the occasional pleasantries. Even though I found her to be attractive, I continued to tell myself not to let the feelings grow more than that. She was married, her red bind glowed bright along with Eric’s. They were meant for each other, I couldn’t interfere with that. 

It wasn’t what was laid out for my life nor Y/N’s. 

And I had to admit, Eric was a pretty cool guy. He seemed to have heard of not only Bad Omnes, but Chief and Erra as well. He used to be in a band when he was younger but had to step away a couple years ago. 

When they first moved in, we saw Eric outside quite a bit whether it was to work on the yard or write in a journal. Now, almost a month later, I’d seen Eric one or twice. 

Shifting in my seat, I let out a groan of annoyance when I received yet another text from whatever her name was. It didn’t seem to bother her all that much that I couldn’t remember her name because she’d been texting me nearly every day asking if we could meet up. Each and every time I would either come up with an excuse or ignore her. 

Maybe if I sent her a screenshot of her contact name, what’s her face, then she will get the hint. 

Was that mean? Of course. 

Did I care? Not entirely. 

A muttering slew of curses caught my attention and setting my phone down in my lap, I glanced towards my right over the fence line to see Y/N standing in her backyard. She wore a pair of biker shorts that showed off her long legs and an oversized shirt. Her hair was up in a very messy bun on top of her head. The entire outfit gave way that she was about to do some kind of yard work. 

Also the fact she was fighting with the lawn mower. 

“Stupid old piece of shit,” Y/N grumbled while kicking it. “You started fine for Eric two weeks ago. Why won’t you start now?” 

For a moment, I watched her try to start the lawn mower, all while sporting a shit eating grin. I wouldn’t admit it outloud but watching her struggle made my heart flutter. 

“Please just work for me,” she nearly whined while throwing her head back up to the sky. “I need one good thing to happen for me today. Please.” 

A slight frown pulled at my lips when I heard the sadness lace her voice so almost quickly, I rose to my feet and walked over towards the fenceline we shared. 

“Everything alright?” 

Y/N jumped at my voice, a hand over her heart as she peered over at me. The fence wasn’t high at all, coming to my waist so we were able to see over it perfectly fine. 

“Uh,” she hastily tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sitting up straighter. “Yes. Well, no not really. But I don’t want to bother you. I can figure it out on my own.” 

My brow raised as I rested my arms on the top of the fence, leaning my top half over into her yard slightly. 

“Are you sure? I’ve heard you call that lawn mower quite a few choice names in the last few minutes.” 

Y/N’s shoulders fell and eventually she nodded. “The grass is slightly overgrown and I got a letter from the HOA this morning that if I don’t cut it by the end of the day, they’ll charge me fifty bucks a day until it’s cut!” 

I grimaced. “Yeah, they’re quite nasty with things like this. One time, we didn't bring in the garbage can because we were on the road so no one was home. It was out on the curb for three extra days and we got charged $100.” 

“Just a couple of middle aged women who aren’t getting any action from their husbands or their pool boys so they take it out on someone who doesn’t even have a working mower,” Y/N said. 

Both of us broke out in laughter, the mood between us lightening. It was weird how at ease I felt talking with her even though this was the most we've spoken since she moved in a month ago. 

Quickly, I dared a glance down to the pale red bind on my wrist before looking at hers which continued to glow bright. Showcasing her love for Eric. 

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I motioned towards her yard. “Do you usually cut the grass yourself?” 

Something flashed in Y/N’s eyes as she kept something buried deep inside of her. Her bottom lip twitched and the muscle in her jaw jumped but whatever plagued her mind she was quick to mask it with a forced smile. 

“Eric’s busy and back in the midwest we lived in a condo so we always had someone to do our yard work,” Y/N explained. 

I nodded with a hum before pushing off of the fence, taking off my sweater to reveal a tank top underneath. I didn’t miss the way her eyes widened at the sight of my tattoos, her gaze lingering on the one on my neck. 

“Woah,” she muttered under her breath but was fast to change up her suddenly aroused tone. “What are you doing?” 

Tossing my sweater over to the chair I was previously sitting on, I looked back at her with a smile. “I’m going to cut your grass for you.” 

Immediately Y/N shook her head. “No, Noah. I can’t have you do that. Our yard is quite big and the grass is overgrown. It will take you the rest of the afternoon.”

It was true. 

The grass reached her ankles and her yard was a tad bit bigger than ours. But that's all it was, just grass except for a small garden bed In the ground that seemed to grow one kind of flower. 

Daisies. 

“It’ll take me less than a few hours. We have one of those nice riding mowers. I just put on my headphones and make it go by faster,” I said. 

The way she bit her bottom lip in ponder made something twinge inside of me. She looked absolutely beautiful with the sun above her casting her in a golden aura. I marveled as it gave her a halo and as a certain word threatened to spill from my lips, I instead reminded myself that she was married to her soulmate. All I could be to her was her neighbor. Maybe even a friend. 

“Thank you, Noah,” she finally spoke and I could see the weight physically lift from her shoulders. “You don’t know how much this is going to help me. I’ll even pay you, as a thank you.” 

I waved her off. “Don’t even worry about it. All I ask for is an ice cold beer.” 

Now it was her turn to grimace. “Well, you won’t find that here. Eric and I don’t drink.” 

There was something underlying in the way she spoke about Eric but I dare not pry so instead I gave her another wide smile. 

“Lemonade works too.” 

“That I can do,” Y/N returned my smile. 

Two hours and three cups of lemonade later, I was standing in my bedroom freshly showered with a towel hanging low on my waist. I meant it when I said mowing Y/N’s yard was easy especially with our riding mower. She often came out to check on me but mostly stayed inside. As I was cutting the grass on the side of the house, passing their bedroom, I noticed Eric laying in bed. Anger rose inside of me for a moment when I thought he was being lazy, that's why he didn’t want to cut the grass. But when I saw the medication and bows of untouched soup on the table next to the bed, I realized he must have been sick with a cold, that’s why he couldn’t cut the grass. 

It was when I parked the mower back into my garage and I was shutting it behind me did Eric finally walk outside, gripping the posts of his front porch. 

“Thank you, Noah. It means a lot that you’ll help Y/N out when she needs it.” 

I ran a hand through my long locks, working out the knots it gathered from having it tied up in a bun. “Of course. Although, I will admit it was kind of funny watching her struggle and call your piece of shit mower names.” 

Eric laughed a hearty laugh albeit weak before giving me one more nod, heading back inside. 

NOAH

Groaning as I worked out the sore muscles from my earlier gym session, I stepped inside my bedroom after my shower and dropped my towel to step into a pair of briefs then sweats. It was just before six in the evening and I knew I needed to talk with Jolly at some point about the finishing plans for our two week tour we would be leaving on in a few weeks. 

It had been nearly a week since I cut Y/N’s grass and almost every night, we all found ourselves sitting outside for a few hours of the night chatting. Some nights we would hang out in their yard, Eric joining us as well, and other nights Y/N would venture over with a dish of whatever dinner she had cooked that night. Whenever she came by our place alone, we often asked where Eric was and it was always the same answer. 

He’s not feeling all that well. 

Tonight I had plans on streaming on twitch which meant we couldn’t enjoy the autumn nights outside together, which was something I needed. Because the more time I spent with her, the feelings began to grow stronger. Especially with what happened between us moments ago. 

When I returned from the gym, I stepped out of my car with my gym bag slung over my shoulder and only wore my work out shorts. The gym session had been intense and my body still ignited with heat so I decided not to wear a shirt on the drive home. Y/N had returned from a run and stopped at the end of my driveway when she caught sight of my shirtless form. She wore a simple sports bra that seemed to hug her breasts perfectly and tight shorts. The muscles of her stomach glistened with the sweat that lingered and the thought of grazing my tongue over her salty skin passed in my mind briefly. 

We stared at each other for a long moment, both of us not saying anything, as new tensions began to form between us. It was unknown to me so like I’d always done when I was around her, I looked at my bind on the off chance it was glowing. 

It wasn’t. 

So instead of dwelling on the disappointment again, I struck up a conversation with her. Wondering if she wouldn’t mind exchanging numbers because with the entire household leaving on their own respective tours in a few weeks, no one would be home and we were in need of someone to keep an eye on the place. 

Y/N agreed and after we exchanged numbers, she bid me a farewell with a tentative wave over her shoulder. I watched with blazing eyes on her perfect ass as she walked up the steps to her house, shutting the door behind her. 

Now I stood in my bedroom, the window open to let in the chill autumn air as I tried desperately not to text her because deep down, I knew it was a line I shouldn’t cross. 

Why was I so enamored with her? Why couldn’t I think of anyone else but her? 

It should have been easy to forget about Y/N in the way I had been thinking about her, yet here I was wondering what she was doing right at that moment.

A gruff meow pulled me from my thoughts and I snapped my head to the white ball of fluff that seemed to materialize at my feet. 

“What the fuck!” I cursed, nearly jumping onto my bed. 

I would have been more freaked out if I didn’t know who the cat belonged to. I’d seen him hanging out in the window sills next door and one night while we all hung out in Y/N’s back yard, he ventured out to lay in Eric’s lap. We found out that those two were bound at the hip and Y/N even joked that she was the third wheel in the marriage to Eric and his cat. 

“Ghost,” I sighed while picking him up into my arms. “How did you get over here?”

All he did was purr in response so after setting him on my bed, I had no choice but to text Y/N. 

“Was this all part of your master plan?” I teased the cat as he curled up on my pillow while I typed up a message. 

Me: Hey it’s Noah. Missing something? 

Attached to the text was a picture of Ghost curled up on my pillow. 

Y/N: Son of a bitch. I am so sorry, Noah! I don’t know how he keeps getting out. Jesse told me a few days ago he found Ghost sunbathing in your hammock. 

Me: Don’t apologize. We don’t mind his little visits. 

Me: I can bring him back home. I’m sure Eric is missing him. 

As I waited for her to respond, I busied myself with throwing a shirt on and setting up everything I needed for my twitch stream later, all the while Ghost slept soundly on my pillow. 

When my phone buzzed on my desk, I snatched it so fast it nearly slipped through my fingers. 

Y/N: No rush! Eric and I are actually headed out to dinner so we can scoop Ghost up after. If that’s alright? 

Even though my heart dropped at the image of Eric and Y/N going out together, I replied. 

Me: More than alright. Just text me when you’re on your way back and I’ll have him ready for you. 

Her texts seized after that so leaving my phone plugged into the charger on my end table, I was about to head to the kitchen to find something to eat when something through my bedroom window caught my eye. 

Directly across my bedroom window was Y/N’s and I stood frozen with wide eyes as I watched her step into her room with a towel wrapped around her. Her hair was wet, sticking to her face and back as she turned away from me; oblivious that I could see through her window. 

Before, Y/N would have her curtains closed, not allowing me a view inside. But for some reason today she had them pulled wide open. I stood frozen in time as she dropped the towel, showing me the swell of her ass. My cock throbbed in my shorts and as much as I wanted to ease away some of the tension with my palm, I couldn’t move. Time was suspended as I continued to stare at Y/N as she moved about her room naked. Her skin seemed to glimmer even with all of the distance between us and as much as I tried to ignore the way I was beginning to feel for it, it was futile. 

My heart pounded when she was near and far. My cock ached to know what her cunt felt like. My hands were desperate to feel the weight of her tits in them. My mouth craved to taste her own. 

Y/N was perfect in every single way. She was gorgeous as the aura followed her around the bedroom, outlining her with imaginative wings. 

“She’s married, Noah,” I groaned while running a hand over my face, forcing me to turn away from the window. 

With my eyes closed, I didn’t see the way the pale red bind around my wrist flashed gold; only for a moment. 

READER

“In the pounding feet, in the streets below, and the window breaks. And a woman falls, there's something wrong, it's so hard to believe that love will prevail,” my voice sang quietly as I stepped inside the house through the patio door. 

I had a bouquet of fresh daisies from the garden ready to prep and put in a vase, along with the other four spread out through the house. I absolutely loved daisies, them being my favorite flower. It was the bouquet of flowers Eric got me on our first date so they hold a sentimental place in my heart. Even though we didn’t have much of a garden here yet I knew I wanted to grow daisies. 

Once they were settled nicely in the vase, I dragged my tired feet down the hall towards my bedroom. The last few weeks had been so amazing and adventurous, it was beginning to creep up on me. Eric had been feeling great, nearly back to his old self. Well, not completely. The cancer was still spreading through him but the chemo seemed to be slowing the speed in which it spread. I wasn’t sure what exactly changed in Eric or where this surge of energy came from but I didn’t complain.

We started going out and exploring the town we lived in; going to farmers markets, walking along the beach at sunset, going to movies, grabbing dinner at a greasy diner that probably wasn’t healthy for either of us but we didn’t care. We both were happy, more in love than our wedding day. 

While I’d been outside tending the garden, Eric was out picking us up some dinner. I was hesitant to let him drive but he assured me that he was only going down the block to one of our favorite Greek spots. He would only be gone for twenty minutes. 

After I set the daisies on top of my dresser, I went about tidying up the bedroom. Just as I was about to pull the curtains shut, my eye caught sight of Noah across the way in his own bedroom. I could only see half of his bed and desk but with what I could see, he was sitting on the edge of his bed with a guitar in his lap. I couldn't see his face, only his fingers strumming along the strings. Both of our windows were open so I could hear his voice carry over into my bedroom as he sang. 

“If I’m there to catch you when you fall you'll have a friend down in hell after all.” 

Swallowing thickly, I yanked the curtain shut and sat on the chair at my vanity, trying to calm the heat that rose to my cheeks. I wasn’t sure what shifted between us in the last few months since I first moved in but it was nice having him, along with his roommates, as friends. I know Eric appreciated it too. Having a group of people that didn’t know about his cancer so they didn’t give him the usual looks of sympathy. 

Seeing Noah in his bedroom was the first time I’d seen him in weeks since he left for tour. I’d been listening to his band, Bad Omens, and while they weren’t the usual music I listened to, I still found myself transfixed with Noah’s voice. They only had two albums out and I was desperate for more. 

I couldn’t explain it but talking with Noah, I found myself falling deeper for him. Not in a romantic way but with a connection so deep it would be nearly impossible to break the farther along our friendship grew. 

The front door opened and I quickly rose to my feet, skipping down the hall to smile at Eric who not only had a bag of food in one hand but a rather large bouquet of flowers in the other. 

Not just any flowers but daisies. 

I giggled while taking them from him, allowing him to capture my lips in a kiss. “You do know we’re growing daisies outside, right?” 

He shrugged while setting down the food on our large kitchen counter and shrugged off his tan jacket to hang it on the back of the stool. 

“It’s not the same as buying one to surprise you with it,” Eric said with a wink. “Hungry?” 

I nodded. “Starved.” 

Once the new flowers were set in a vase in the middle of the kitchen counter, I sat with Eric as we ate. Every so often I caught him staring at me with a look of love in his eyes. Those dark orbs bled with his devotion to me. 

I wiped some food crumbs out of his mustache with a giggle. “You’re so in love with me you don’t realize you have food all over your face.” 

He kissed the inside of my palm once he captured it. “I love you, my daisy.” 

Every time he spoke his pet name for me it made my world spin, my heart leap into my throat, and warmth spread inside of my veins. I never felt a love like how I had with Eric. He was my everything and I would literally die for him. 

Not if he dies first.

Pushing away the harsh thought from my mind, I played with his glowing bind, trying to remember the good memories between us. I wouldn’t succumb to the darkness that lingered.

Eric was fine. 

He would be fine. 

We would be fine. 

When he went to clean up, I hastily pushed Eric’s hands away. “You rest. I’ll clean up.” 

Even though he’d been feeling stronger these last few weeks, I knew he wouldn’t say no to some rest. So as I cleaned up our mess from dinner, Eric looked through our rather large record collection before setting one in the player and soon an all too familiar song graced my ears. 

Oh, it won't rain all the time. The sky won't fall forever.

Looking over to Eric who stood in the middle of our living room with his arm outstretched towards me, he had a lazily smile on his face. He’d taken off the black beanie he always wore, showcasing his buzzed head. 

“Will you dance with me, my daisy? It’s our song,” he noted. 

I pulled at my dirty sweats and messy hair. “I’m not dressed for a dance, Eric.” 

“Are you kidding me?” His jaw fell agape, appalled that I would say something so insane. “You look absolutely breathtaking, Y/N. Even more so than on our wedding day.” 

Tears welled in my eyes when I saw the way his hands shook but didn’t want to ruin the mood. Eric was glowing with happiness and life. He hadn't wanted to dance in so long, especially to our song. I refused to deny him this. 

Linking our fingers together, I allowed him to pull me into his chest and I rested my cheek against it. His heartbeat was slow but erratic. I followed his lead like always as he swayed both of our bodies to the song. I let myself relax for the first time in so long, always worrying about if the chemotherapy would work, if Eric would survive, or if our binds would break away without me knowing. 

Eric must have sensed I was thinking those dark thoughts again because he gently lifted my chin up to him, laying a firm kiss to my lips. It was quick, almost too quick, and I didn’t want it to end. This was the first time in a while that we shared a kiss that wasn’t just a fast peck. I opened my mouth to let his tongue explore and I moaned into it, reveling in how he tasted. His scent engulfed my senses when my hands slipped up his chest to behind neck, locking them in place. 

I felt the hardness of his cock against my lower stomach so I broke away from the kiss for a moment, breathless. Ever since he started chemo, it was hard for Eric to get an erection. I spent most nights touching myself or using one of my toys, every so often he would watch. I tried to touch him, only for it to do nothing for him. He reassured me it wasn’t me, it was just the chemo. 

“Eric,” I sighed. “I don’t want to rush you.” 

He lifted me off the ground with a slight ease and I squealed while wrapping my legs around him. 

“What are you doing?” I asked when he started carrying us towards our bedroom. 

“It’s been too long, Y/N. I need to feel you again,” he said while kicking the door shut behind us. 

As much as we loved cuddle time with Ghost, we didn’t need him trying to sneak in at this moment. 

Laying me on the bed, Eric kissed me again with more force than the last one and I grazed my teeth over his bottom lip.

“Are you sure?” I asked after pulling away briefly. 

“Y/N,” he leaned closer to me. “You’re the only thing that matters to me right now. Please let me have this. I need this. I need you.” 

Without a second thought, I crashed my lips to his and pulled at his shirt, doing whatever I could to deepen the kiss. Breaking away from me, Eric began biting and sucking at the sweet spot of my neck, our movements becoming familiar with each other all over again. He remembered exactly where to touch or kiss that would set me off, in the most euphoric way. 

My name fell from his lips when I started to rut my hips into his, trying to scratch the itch that only he could scratch. As our clothes fell away and our bodies connected, his cock fitting inside of me like a glove, I etched the way he felt against me inside of my mind. 

Afterwards, with the sheet lazily thrown on top of me, I watched in bliss as Eric sat on the edge of the bed. His bare back tensed as he rested his elbows on his knees, taking a deep breath. The red marks that littered his skin were still visible thanks to my nails. 

“Are you alright?” I asked. 

He glanced over his shoulder at me with a fox smile. “Just tired. I can’t remember the last time I gave you three orgasms.” 

I winked. “It’s been awhile. I missed the way your tongue felt.”

Eric squeezed my ankle. “I’m going to get some water for us then we can maybe watch some twitch streams?” 

“I love how it has become our nightly routine,” I said with a small laugh. 

Every night, we would snuggle up in bed together to watch twitch streams; mostly Noah’s. I always found myself laughing at how unhinged he was, something Eric noticed but never saying anything. 

Eric rose from the bed with a groan but soon his large body collapsed to the floor with a thud, making me scream out in horror as I scrambled over to him. 

“ERIC!” I cried, kneeling in front of him. “Eric, baby. Are you alright?” 

He didn’t say anything and ice cold fear filled my veins when I realized his eyes were closed. 

“No, no, no. Please, no. Eric!” I sobbed now, letting out a wail when I laid a hand on his chest. 

NOAH

All I could feel was my body falling deeper and deeper, succumbing to the darkness that surrounded me. I couldn't breath, nails clawing at the skin of my throat as I tried to call out for help. 

Yet no one could hear me. 

There was nothing but inky blackness while my body continued to be thrown through whatever void I found myself in. I spun in the air over and over until I felt bile rise in my throat but did my best to keep it inside. If I threw up, the sheer intensity of the wind would cause it to smack me right in the face. 

A spark of color broke through the darkness and I let out a gasp, hands outstretched to reach for the red string. My fingertips brushed along the thread and I could almost taste the victory of being able to finally leave this void. Only for the string to wrap around me in quick loops. It began to tighten around me, forcing my arms to the side as I did what I could to fight against it. Seconds later, the red string snapped apart when a sudden weight sat on top of my chest, stealing whatever oxygen I had left in my lungs. 

Blinking my eyes rapidly, it took me a moment to realize that I had been dreaming and the weight I felt on my chest was not because of a red string, but because of a white fluffy cat whose blue eyes were staring into me. 

"Ghost," I groaned while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Does your mom know you're over here? Again?" 

The cat simply meowed in response before curling up against my neck. 

"I should probably bring you back to Y/N before she wonders where you ran off to this time," I mumbled, excitement filling my veins at the prospect of seeing Y/N. 

We’d found out there was a small enough hole in the shared fence line that Ghost would slip through to venture back and forth between the houses. At first, Jolly offered to fix the whole so Y/N and Eric didn’t have to worry about losing Ghost but Eric was quick to wave us off. He said he didn’t mind his cat coming for visits as long as we didn’t. Somehow in the span of a few weeks, all six of us ended up with shared custody of Ghost. Michael wasn’t too fond of the cat at first but took a little warming up before he didn’t mind waking up one morning to see the cat on our couch. 

Although, it had been awhile since we last saw Ghost. Y/N had mentioned that he was spending more time with Eric which was fine because it technically was his cat but I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss the cat. 

We’d just returned from our east coast tour a few days ago but due to the lack of sleep I had, I spent the time catching up on sleep because we were about to leave for Europe next week. Only this tour would be longer. We’d be gone for three weeks. Thankfully both Jesse and Michael would be home this time around so we didn’t need Y/N to keep an eye on the house for us. 

Y/N. 

I hadn’t seen or talked to Y/N since I arrived home a few days ago. She texted me once while I was on the road to tell me that she gathered all of our mail into a box and planned to give it to the first one of us she saw. 

While I was away, all I could think about was the memory of her naked, more so her ass. It plagued me like a disease, taunting me that I was unable to do anything about it. I had to watch from afar as she walked around her room naked. I wanted to be the one that was able to touch her. 

She’s married, you dumbass. Stop thinking of another man's wife naked!

“Alright, let’s get you home,” I sighed towards Ghost after motioning him to follow. 

When I stepped out of my bedroom, the sound of someone pounding on the front door shook the bones of the house and I appeared int he living room just in time to see Jesse rise from the couch. 

He’d been lounging on the couch with a bowl of pineapple chunks on his bare chest and his cat pajama pants, the one his girlfriend gifted him. 

“What the fuck is going on?” I asked as the pounding continued. 

Jesse shrugged while walking over to the front door. “Don’t know. Some chick has been yelling your name for the last few seconds.” 

Fuck, if it’s whats her name I might just jump off my roof. 

Ghost seemed unbothered by the banging on the door because he simply made himself at home at Jesse’s previous spot on the couch. When the front door opened, it felt as if the air was stolen from my lungs when I took in the sight of a broken Y/N; eyes red and puffy. Tears streamed down her face along with makeup and her hair was disheveled. I briefly saw red marks littering her neck but that wasn’t what had my attention currently. 

It was the bind on her wrist that was flickering. 

“Y/N,” I appeared next to Jesse. “What’s going on?” 

Her broken eyes bounced between us before settling on me. “It’s Eric! I-He-I can’t!” 

She blew out a shaky breath before grabbing my hand, leading me out of the house towards hers. 

tags: @artificialbreezy @blueskylinesx @dominuslunae @lobolocaamo @lilcrazy011 @badomensls @shayeanna-ashlie @supersquirrel1996 @missduffsblog @nicelittlenightmares @curse-bearing-hips @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @idontwantthemoney @heyyoplayer @amelia-acero @xmads-omensx @poisongirl616 @theanarchymuse95 @trvshdxddy @thisbicc @losingmyselfinthoughts @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @klutzy-kay24 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @collidewiththesavannah @tosoundlessdarkistare @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney @montgomery-929496 @respectfulrebel l @chaoticwineaunt @fadingangelwisp @english-fucker @99png @Koskeepsake @lunabuna991 @sorrowsofsilence

[katakaluptastrophy]

Do you have any opinions on the differences between binaries of necro/cav and adept/non-adept?

Specifically, I'm thinking about Abigail and Magnus's relationship: when married they were simply adept and non-adept, and despite the class difference seem to have been operating as equal partners. But once they became necromancer and cavalier, the expectation becomes such that Magnus is expected to sacrifice himself for Abigail if that's necessary.

Now that I think about it, perhaps this is Muir's way of describing the gender binary and marriage when coverture is legally applicable: a necromantic adept is always considered their own person, but a non-adept is only a separate person until becoming a cavalier (i.e. getting married), at which point they become ancillary to the necromancer. Hmm.

This is one of those topics that has me rattling the bars of my cage begging Tamsyn for more details about cavaliership as an institution and about aptitude in society.

Because what does this stuff actually look like?

John says "only" a third of the new Ninth will have aptitude, suggesting that the typical rate is somewhat higher. So let's say a third to half of the population have aptitude, and that seems to be effectively random.

We only see the scions of the ruling families of the Houses and the original Lyctors in the context of cavaliership. Most of the non-aptitude Housers that we meet are cavaliers, and think this can sometimes lead to an elision of non-aptitude and cavalier that may not exist. Does every necromancer have a cavalier? That seems unlikely - in the general population there must be necromancers working in all sorts of mundane jobs for which having someone follow you around with a sword would be impractical. M. Bias mentions 'frontline cavalier units' alongside 'the classic cavalier' paired with a Cohort necromancer, and sets both against 'the social cavalier' attached to the necromantic elites. Perhaps he simply doesn't see Jeff the Health and Safety cav who follows Millicent the necromantically lab grown meat tech around as worthy of the name, or perhaps cavaliership only exists as a formal, marriage-like institution within the Cohort and the leaders of the Houses. Amongst House leadership, there has likely always been a fairly significant overlap with the Cohort (leaving aside the Second, consider Isaac and Jean, or Abigail's admiral grandfather), and cavaliership here may also have been intended to echo the Lyctors who founded the Houses. But presumably amongst civilians, there are plenty of non-adepts who have nothing to do with cavaliership proper (though I'm fascinated by the idea of how the concept might function unofficially or ceremonially).

But even if we assume that most non-adepts aren't cavaliers per se, that still raises questions about the status of non-adepts. The Sermon on Cavaliers and Necromancers gives us a glimpse of some of the theology of the Houses, in which "'one flesh' is the underpinning of our whole Empire" and in which parents go to great lengths to give their baby the chance of developing aptitude. Why? Because "our necromantic characteristics make us more like the Emperor." That is, to have aptitude means one is more in the image of god. I shan't go on a digression about early church debates about whether women are made in the image of God in the same way as men, but as you can imagine, given that the Sermon is basically just Ephesians 5's discussion of gender re-skinned for aptitude, this raises a question about just how non-aptitude Housers sit in society.

There's clearly also an extent to which non-aptitude Housers may find themselves in a state of assumed cavaliership long before they ever swear vows. There are cavalier families, where to be born without aptitude means you are already all but promised to the next adept of the corresponding line. Magnus undertook something that is described as "cavalier training" during his schooldays - is this simply a reference to the education of a young, socially privileged person involving some degree of swordsmanship as a matter of course? His attempt to join the army at 18 seems to have been somewhat anomalous, so he can't just have been planning a glorious Cohort career. (What does education look like for a population where slightly less than half of people are death wizards?). How much choice did someone like Magnus have about his schoolboy cavalier training? How much choice does someone who lacks both aptitude and the kind of privilege that leads to you marrying the scion of the Koniortos Court have about anything that might be described as "cavalier training"? How much of standard education in the Houses is designed to filter large segments of the population towards the Cohort anyway?

There's also the few glimpses we get of BoE's perception of the status of non-aptitude Housers, which doesn't seem to be great. Judith and Corona may laugh off their assumption that necromancers have large harems of not-always-entirely-alive non-aptitude House citizens, but you do get the sense that if Magnus had lived to fall into BoE hands, he might have been rather pressed to explain that his relationship with his necromancer/feudal lady/wife was entirely consensual.

I think you're absolutely right about there being a shift in the status of a non-adept who becomes a cavalier. What's not clear is whether making cavalier vows leads to an actual change of legal status, in terms of a diminishment of legal rights as in coverture marriage, or whether it functions only within the realms of social pressure and custom. People often point to Abigail and Magnus' cavaliership as an example of the institution being done 'well' or 'properly', because the institution itself seems to be incidental to their relationship - while we don't know their motivations, you suspect this was simply a convenient way for them to continue collaborating as they did in every other aspect of their life. We don't know whether Magnus in some way forfeited aspects of his legal personhood in becoming Abigail's cavalier. Perhaps they felt it didn't matter because of the way they were inhabiting that relationship. But their attitude didn't change the fact that in the end, Magnus died, sword in hand, having just watched his wife be murdered, because he was her cavalier.

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?”

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

------------

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

---------------------------

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[sun-kissy]

heart | bucky barnes

bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1k

summary: bucky asks you why you love him

tw: hurt/comfort, tears, angst to fluff, bucky is so precious and needs to be protected at all costs 🥹

The rain poured violently outside, hitting the ground in torrents. But the doors muffled it to barely audible thumps. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The repetitive sound ran through your mind like some kind of mantra, too tired to think of much else. Paired with the feeling of Bucky’s hair on your fingertips, it was almost meditative.

You sat curled up on the couch with his head in your lap. You had wanted to get started on your next read, The Hobbit — but Bucky insisted on annotating it before you did, claiming it would help you understand it better. So you let yourself relax while he did.

You’re broken out of your reverie by the soft sound of your name, and look down to see Bucky gazing up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Can we… talk for a bit?”

You think he looks a little nervous, though you’re not sure why. It makes you nervous. “Sure, what’s up?”

He marks the book before closing it, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His tongue juts into the side of his mouth, eyebrows bunching up as he turns to face you.

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a bit. He just stares down at the couch. It’s like you can hear him playing with different responses on the tip of his tongue, frown widening by the second. 

You’re restless, almost dying to ask him what had happened. But you hold back for his sake.

Finally, he sighs and meets your gaze for a split second before diverting it again. “Why do you…” He clears his throat. “Why do you do this?”

You blink. “Do what?”

“Why do you —“ he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He looks perplexed. “You know, be with me and stuff. Why do you love me?”

There’s a sensation in your heart, a tad bit worse than sinking. It’s like drowning.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

You stay quiet, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. Bucky seems to take it as his sign to continue.

“I’ve done so many awful things, doll, and you know it. I — I’ve hurt people, fuck, I even murdered them. I’m a murderer. And I —“

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“You always say that.” It felt like someone was stabbing you in the heart, right through the little atrium where your heart begins to beat. “You always say it. But it’s not true, it’s not. It’s my fucking fault. I killed those people.”

“Bucky,” you know you sound worried, and that it might freak him out. But you can’t bring yourself to care right now, seeing his head hung between his hands like that. Though it was months ago, he looks as tortured as he did on the day you first met. On the day he had just been saved from Hydra — and it scared you. 

He doesn’t respond.

“Buck,” you try again, softer, hesitantly reaching out to rub his arm. He lets you. “I mean it, you know? I mean it when I say it’s not your fault. You were brainwashed. You wouldn’t have done… any of it, if it were up to you.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? It wasn’t up to me. Brainwashed or not, I still did it.”

There’s nothing but biting anguish in his voice; self deprecation at the tip of it.

“You didn’t choose to.”

He takes a shuddering inhale, and that’s when you know he’s holding back tears. It wasn’t visible to you. But it’s audible now. “Hey. Hey, babe.”

You scoot closer towards him, hand on his arm drifting round to his back. 

You give the nape of his neck a gentle squeeze, and it seems to be all the reassurance he needs to let go. A strangled sob escapes him.

“Okay. It’s okay, Buck. You can let go, yeah? Just let go,” you say, trying to ignore the dull ache in your heart as you wrap your arm around him. 

Bucky starts to cry, softly at first. Then he starts to shake, pent up sobs coming out like a storm after rain. It’s heartbreaking. He instinctively curls into you, and you hold him.

“You didn’t choose to do it. Any of it,” you murmur again. He pushes his face into your chest, tears and snot and self-hatred and all. You take it as a sign that you’re getting through to him. “You were forced, my love. You didn’t want to do those things —“ you rub his back, hoping it conveys all the love that you need it to, “— so it’s not your fault. It never has been, and it never will be.”

Perhaps you sound a little choked up. Maybe Bucky notices, and that’s why he wraps his arms around you. Or maybe it’s because he loves you, and love is sometimes worth fighting your demons for.

You don’t say anything for a while more; you know he doesn’t need you to. What he needs is for you to hold him in your arms, let him feel safe as he cries. You do exactly that. You’ll do anything for him.

“I love you,” you murmur again after a bit, when his tears have slowed and sniffles are softer. You realised you never really answered his question in the first place. 

“I love you because you’re you, Bucky,” you start. “You’re soft, and sweet, and —“ you’re tearing up now, but you can’t help it. You hug him tighter. “— and you make my coffee just the way I like it. You kiss me and it makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. You hold me when I cry, and buy me flowers like I’m worth it.”

“You are worth it,” he croaks quietly, voice muffled in your chest.

“I know I am. I know, because you showed me,” you warble, burying your face in his hair. “And I need you to believe the same. You are worth it. You can hate yourself every second of every day, and I will still love you. I’ll always love you.”

Bucky tilts his head upwards slightly to press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips graze the skin above your heart. “You really believe what you’re saying, huh?”

“I do,” you whisper, no hesitation. “I love you.”

You feel his hand in your hair, another soft kiss to your heart. “I love you.”