#everyone switched accounts or just left in general | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpknjoon · 1 year

Text

recently with the a-listers... | ksj

plot | A dating rumor with another personality there, a Taylor Swift collab here. This is one of the confusing days to be in the a-listers fandom.

words | 1.4k+

genres | humor/crack, fluff, angst, actors!au

pairing | actor!jin x famous!reader

note | usernames used in the fic are all fictional. this was set in September to October 2022. I love writing for this series! feel free to send me your bets for the a-listers! Enjoy reading.

main masterlist | drabble series

JIN Spotted Out With Model Lee Sung Kyung Four Months After Rumored Girlfriend Y/N Takes A Hiatus

The Hollywood actor and international model were spotted together, walking out of a restaurant in New York on Wednesday night. According to many eyewitnesses inside the restaurant, the two were seen chatting and dining alone at Carbone’s. The ‘Still Alive’ actor and the Chanel brand ambassador were even heard laughing about something on JIN’s phone.

Lee wore a Chanel three-piece pink tweed coordinates and white ankle boots while JIN picked out a classy black suit. Both celebrities have their individual appearances for that day’s schedule for New York Fashion Week. The model walked the runway for Chanel while the actor attended the Tom Ford couture show.

Paparazzi captured images of the famous personalities walking out of Carbone’s quietly and not answering any questions. The two were seen fleeing the scene separately in their own cars.

This was the first time the two were seen together in public. As everyone knows, JIN has always been rumored to be in a relationship with actress, Y/N, for years now. It was never confirmed. But the said actress suddenly took a hiatus earlier this year to the surprise of the fans. Without any clear reasons for this sudden break, fans were left to speculate. It sparked buzzes about breakups, pregnancy, and changes in career choices.

But with this recent sighting of the actor on a date with a new female personality, it can be safe to say that JIN is back in the market again.

It was chaos and madness all over the internet. Everyone, even the general public, expressed their surprise at the images from that said sighting. News outlets and gossip pages are having a blast while the fans were like sailors in a storm, not knowing what to do with their ship.

@/PopCrave: JIN and Lee Sung Kyung spotted out in New York City during New York Fashion Week. [insert photos]

@/YNJINUpdates: putangina???? [translated: son of a bitch????]

@/se0kjinsyn: i swear every time i come back here in twt, shit happens 😤😤

@/maybemaybeyn: i miss you user YNOFFICIAL 😔

@/jinhourly: oh my god people calm down

@/jinhourly: it’s not like yn and jin ever confirmed their relationship and sungkyung is probably just a friend!

@/ynstanonly: wbk that 🤡 is just with yn for clout

@/cloudedmoon: THIS IS PROBABLY FOR PR 🤔

@/YNJINUpdates: We are sorry for the last tweet. One of our account handlers forgot to switch accounts.

The whole news caused a big stir and division among your fans and Sungkyung’s supporters. Of course, everyone wants to defend whoever they support. It resulted in names and words being on Twitter’s trend list for the whole day. Including the tag: YNJIN IS OVER. It didn’t benefit that there were also immature fans from both sides that said some words. It was just a relief that your, Jin’s, and Sungkyung’s Instagram posts have their comment section limited.

@/YNUpdates: Please refrain from interacting with malicious articles. We won’t tolerate hate sent to anyone. Be kind, ppl 💖

But no matter how messy the fandoms got after the articles, each celebrity went on their life, unbothered. Sungkyung still got three shows for that fashion week. Jin didn’t have any public appearances again and it was unknown to his fans if he was working on something. And you, you went on your break. Your fans don’t have any idea about what you were doing but they hoped that you are doing well.

Just when everyone thought that the fire is already cool, another photo and news article dropped.

JIN and Lee Sung Kyung stroll around on a morning coffee date in Cambridge

Kim, 29, and Lee, 32, were captured by a local fan in Cambridge, Massachusetts chatting and walking on the streets with cups of coffee on the chilly morning of September. The two seemed to be in good spirits while strolling the city with smiles and laughter as they talk. The actor wore a casual outfit: a green knitted sweater while the model is seen wearing a beige coat over her white turtleneck. The fan who took the said photos didn’t get to know where the two celebrities were heading but shared that the two seemed to know each other well.

This is the second sighting of Jin and Sung Kyung together after sparking dating rumors two weeks ago after being spotted in New York City with one another.

Fans were divided by the news, especially since the actor was always linked to another Hollywood A-lister, Y/N. The romantic relationship between the two was never confirmed. But also, never denied. Sources claimed that the two broke up badly which later resulted in Y/N taking a break last April to recover.

Nonetheless, Jin seemed to be confirming these claims as he openly go out with Sung Kyung.

More tweets were expressed. A scary mix of emotions from fans was represented through social media: anger, confusion, and sadness. The fans don’t know what to do and what to believe in. There are even theories made online about all of this.

Due to the growing amount of gossip and confusion, teams from both personalities had to finally comment on the rumor. Their public relations teams only responded with a shared statement for the news outlets that kept on asking for the artists’ response. Which, both Jin and Sung Kyung denied the rumor.

Although it caused relief to some fans, it didn’t stop fans who love to make theories out of everything.

@/hellojinnie: maybe they just denied it to stop the hate toward them

There are fans who claimed that the two are really in a relationship. They just had to deny it in public to stop the hate that’s pointed to the celebrities. Some also claimed that Jin probably cheated on you with Sung Kyung. But again, none of the claims were ever verified.

On the other side of the show business industry, Taylor Swift has been doing these TikTok series for announcing the titles of the tracks in her upcoming album, Midnights. The series was called Midnights Mayhem with Me. it caused excitement to the singer’s fans. Especially when her collaboration with Lana Del Ray was announced in the last part of the series.

But what really adds to the joy on the day of the release of the said album was when the songwriters were publicized.

@/PopCrave: Y/N is back co-writing songs for Taylor Swift. She wrote songs for the album.

You’re On Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Labyrinth, and Sweet Nothing were the titles of the songs you co-wrote. Instantly, your fans rejoiced with the reveal. They were happy to see you back working again with the singer and thrilled to hear the songs. And when they did, it has some great reactions.

@/ynswifties: i swear all the songwriting credits under yn’s belt is gold

@/REPUT4TION: taylor & yn both grew up in the toxic industry & chose to write a song about it

@/goodnightnjin: y/n co-writing labyrinth :(( oh my heart

@/sunshinecatlady: just listened to labyrinth 🥺

Replying to @/sunshinecatlady

– @/sunshinecatlady: i really hope that you are happy and safe right now, love. u deserve it 🥺💝

@/sayhell0: midnight rain is about leaving a relationship with a person who’s been wanting to settle down…

Replying to @/sayhell0

– @/marigolds4bubbles: oh…

@/s0ngsynwr0te: sweet nothing is like sweetest love letter ever 🤍

@/YNJIN1208: i can imagine ynjin while listening to sweet nothing. I miss them sm

@/whoisyn: someone stop me from making theories about ynjin after hearing midnight rain!

To celebrate the release of the songs, you posted a series of Instagram stories. The first one was a picture of your hand on Francheskat while she sleeps with the song, Sweet Nothing. Then, you posted something with a question sticker that says, come on, send me something! 🤠

Fans were overjoyed and within minutes thousands of questions were being sent to you. Of course, you only answered a few of them with random pictures on the background of the Instagram Story.

You were asked how are you, and you replied with a selfie of yourself sipping from a teacup. The photo was really close to your face. With a reply, “Thank you for asking, love. I’m feeling wonderful today. Been reading a lot of books and drinking green tea! 😊✨ I really hate coffee rn…”

Someone asked what was your favorite song from the four tracks you co-wrote, and you replied: midnight rain and you’re on your own, kid ❤️

One of the last questions you replied to was a random question that probably caused murmurs in your fandom: tips to move on from a long term relationship?

You replied with an image of the clouds: take some time for yourself. cry if u need it. Feel every emotion u feel. don’t be afraid to explore the world of singleness again 💕

taglist rules

THE A-LISTERS TAGLIST

@seolaquotes @bangtannieshope @jub-jub @yoontaethings @kissme-ornot @sleepy-daydreams @veronawrites @cuteipat @ratherbefangirling @babystarcandy-gcf @akirawhore @alpacaparkaseok @rjsmochii @lovesickbangtan @zealouslightcookiebasketball @rapmonie2047 @btsiguess-kpop @angelarin @walkinganxiety @tpwk-280 @bloopkook @stopeatread @yoooonie @amara-mars @firesighgirl @zwiehe @hiii-priestess @lojocas @juju-227592

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @pixybear @miyukihoshi

#jin x reader #jin fluff #bts jin #jin fic #jin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfiction #bts social media au #seokjin fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts series #bts au #bts fanfic #the a listers ksj

220 notes · View notes

catgirlforeskin · 22 days

Note

"How will things work under anarchy?" mfs when they are asked about how will things work under DOTP

Joke about forcing everyone to work

"Same as under capitalism, but now the rulers don't actually own property and therefore will not be interested in abusing power"

Some other options?

Yeah I think the whole “oh yeah, we’ll what about x under your system” whiteboard bad faith gotcha routine that usually comes from liberals but sometimes various left-wing groups going “pfft, your system doesn’t have real solutions like mine does” back and forth is generally silly and counterproductive.

But my beef is about class and “ends justify the means” arguments. Because the general framework of “we empower the working class and suppress the capitalist class until we’ve done away with class altogether” doesn’t really work when you create a new class of state functionaries who fill in for the capitalists of old.

Either it’s Engels style “but we NEED factory managers at the end of the day” or “we’re going to have a ruling class temporarily and then it’ll wither once we’re ready for communism” and one I just fundamentally disagree with and the other doesn’t take into account the class contradictions it creates.

I do think it’s reasonable to have times where you go “okay we need to have austerity or switch to war production or whatever bad thing to get through an ongoing siege or crisis” but that should always be a decision made democratically and not by a distinct class, because then you hit the inevitable position of “well we need to indefinitely extend the emergency powers I’ve been granted because there’s always an emergency.” Among marxist states we can look to Cuba as a good example of the former, and the Soviet Union of the latter, which liberalized itself to death.

I think generally in our current historical moment I’ll support just about any power in dethroning American capitalist imperial hegemony and think it’d be unambiguously better for China to hold that position (Xi pls come build me high speed rail I will personally pilot the Chengdu J-20 air superiority fighter jets to ensure your victory) but I also think we can aim higher, and really, as climate cataclysm worsens in the coming years we’re going to need to

#asks

16 notes · View notes

raayllum · 1 year

Text

I think what gets lost amid the Viren-Callum and Callum-Claudia parallels is while sometimes you have characters foil each other primarily because of narrative placement (Rayla and Soren in some ways, switching roles as sworn killer to protector and then back again), you can also have characters that parallel each other primarily personality wise (Ezran and Claudia for example), and characters that parallel each other morality wise (Rayla and Harrow) and then you can also have characters that parallel each other in all of the above. Narrative placement, roles, personality, morality, flaws, etc. All of it.

And that is what I’m talking about when I talk about how Callum’s morality differs from his friends. Ezran does not have the capacity to be a dark mage. At most, he could be like Terry, and even then, that’s a stretch. He does not crave power. Opportunity and justice, which are adjacent to power, but not power itself. It is out of character for Ezran to revel the destruction and upper hand that power gives him. It is not for Callum.

Rayla, although she has personality similarities with Viren (paranoia, gruffness, repression, etc) and narrative similarities with Claudia (daughter given dark task by father, wandering Xadia for two years on account of Viren, etc) does not have the capacity to be a dark mage. It’s not in her; she doesn’t have the incentive or personality for it (or for magic generally). She craves protection, which is of course adjacent to power, but not power itself. It was out of character for Rayla to walk away from the dragon in 4x05, indicating a massive character change for her from 2x07; Callum’s choice in each situation would remain the same.

In 4x06, upon finding Soren’s armour, everyone else is focused on Soren. Rayla is beating herself up for letting something happen to him. N’than is being brutally honest. Ezran is trying to mitigate harm and look on the bright side for their friend. Callum does not take his eyes off of, and is entirely focused on, Rayla. Yes, he’s optimistic about what may have happened to Soren, but that’s specifically presented in him reassuring Rayla (and then again in 4x07 as well).

Callum craves power (and freedom). He craves magic. He has a strong heart and a strong mind just like his friends, but he’s also a mage in ways that even Claudia is not. Claudia can look at ancient ruins and never wonder how to use them. She’s brutal out of perceived necessity. Callum is brutal even when he doesn’t need to be. Callum learns about moon magic and, like every magical object he’s encountered, he wants to learn how to use it. Just knowing is not enough.

Viren and Callum are both people willing to do “anything” to protect their family, even if Viren’s more complicated because he’s also more willing to sacrifice them, and Callum is not (with perhaps the sole exception of letting Ez be under the ice for a dangerously long time). This is especially highlighted in S4, textually. Ezran and Rayla are both willing to sacrifice precious items connected to their fathers. Callum (at least for now) is not.

Callum is genuinely tempted down the path of being a dark mage when he thinks he has no other magical options. He rejects it still holding onto hope, perhaps, that he can be a primal mage. And like I’ve already said, Rayla and Ezran would not have been tempted into it at all. Claudia isn’t either because she doesn’t see anything wrong with dark magic in the first place. But Callum does. In this way, Callum’s pursuit of magic has the most in common with Viren’s, where he knows it’s dangerous, and knows it may not always end well (“I have nothing left to lose”) and yet he chooses it and Aaravos anyway. Callum also has a self-preservation streak that Viren, Rayla, and Ezran do not (at least marginally). He rarely throws himself into anything in which he has zero hope for survival; even when he takes Ez’s spot in 1x02, he still argues with Rayla on behalf on his own life; he easily is talked down by one word from Rayla when it comes to letting Sol Regem burn him to a crisp in 3x01. (Compare and contrast with how Rayla argues with him for her own death in 3x08, or how Viren places his life in Aaravos’ hands in Lux Aurea.)

And yet in spite of how much the show emphasizes just how much he loves magic, and loves using magic (“figure out how he could use the cube” and what he could “achieve” with it, S2 novelization), it also shows us time and time again that the people he loves - namely Rayla and Ezran - are even more important to him than magic.

[Cue Callum dropping his staff - “It means a lot” - to pick up Rayla’s sword only to then throw that away, too, when he sees her hand to run right at her]

And even over his freedom and well-being:

C: I was his puppet. I felt so weak and out of control. I’m not afraid that he’ll hurt me. I’m afraid that he’ll use me to do awful things. Or hurt people I care about. That’s why all I’m asking is that if he takes control of me again, you have to kill me. I need you to promise.

Among the trio, Callum is the one with a more skewed morality and greater capacity for remorseless violence. He’s the one with a raging and then ice cold temper. He’s the one who has the most in common personality and morality wise with Viren and Claudia and even Terry. Not entirely the same, of course - there’s a reason he’s not on their side - but the most similar, I think.

And I think that’s why 1) Callum is such a fascinating character, especially for a protagonist and 2) disappointing sometimes, when people take away his claws and teeth. Because he absolutely has them, and I hope we can only continue to see them play out even further as we go along.

#tests of love #two pillars #brotp: we're in this together #tdp callum #callum #characterization #analysis series #analysis #parallels #idk if i phrased this right but #as someone who relates a Lot to callum and presents very similarly to him #in terms of interests / personality / mannerisms #i guess this stuff stands out to me the most bc these are the areas where we majorly differ #and they're Big Important Areas #and have always been very clear to me so i just?? idk it's hard to articulate except for #snake boi callum #at its finest

95 notes · View notes

lyssaterald · 1 month

Text

Take Flight, Part ?: Avoidance

Or, what happens in the aftermath of Belphie's attack and the fallout of broken relationships.

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! First person writing, named character, and slight mentions of character’s past and history which are expanded upon as they are important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

----------

I had never been so grateful to be a dragon in my entire life than when Diavolo tried to corner me to "talk" about the incident with Belphie. Every single summons, text, and call from him had been left unanswered. Lucifer's attempts to play peacemaker had resulted in hostility and put a strain on our own relationship. All the presents he sent were returned or charred upon delivery depending on how furious I was that day or hour.

So...

That's why he had waited until I was attending my lectures again, specifically my Politics of Heaven and Hell, the one lecture where none of the brothers or the other exchange students attended with me. So, it was quite a surprise to enter the classroom and find him standing behind the professors desk instead of our usual teacher.

Fucking fantastic.

If I ran away, everyone would get suspicious since we were supposed to be acting like everything was normal. If I didn't run away, though, it gave him the chance he wanted to corner me into "talking." But...my eyes scanned the room...there was an option in case he did. Golden eyes lingered on me as I slowly made my way to the far back row and sat as far away from him as I could.

His lecture was actually a pretty decent one about how the Celestial War had come about in the first place and the changes that it had wrought for the Devildom (aside from the acquisition of their current Avatars). It was easy to ignore his gaze while I scribbled out my notes and listened to his smooth, velvety voice. It made an ache rise in my chest and when the bell rang, I had everything snatched off the desk and was halfway out the door when I heard my name called.

"A moment, Lyssa," he said and I froze.

Several other students giggled and snickered at me. "Ohhh, Lyssa's in trouble," one girl taunted. "You're in for it now."

I spun and snarled at her. The color drained from her face and she dropped her bag, spilling her books and pencil case everywhere. The others fled at the murderous intent they suddenly felt flowing over them. With shaking hands, the girl scrambled to collect her things and bolt as fast as she could, which left me and Diavolo.

Stubbornly, I remained in the threshold of the classroom, clutching the strap of my bag. He caught my look and sighed. "Come inside and close the door, please." There were still too many people around in the halls to simply bolt. He saw me weighing the actions and consequences and waved a hand. The door closed on my back and the lock clicked. "You've been making this harder than it has to be, Lys."

"Don't call me that," I said, striding into the room and depositing my bag onto one of the tables.

"Lys," he said, softer. "Please just give me a chance to talk to you. It's been a week since I last saw you." He left the professors desk and tried to approach me, but I hadn't stopped by my bag and had continued on my path. "How are you?"

When one has wings, every window is a legitimate emergency exit no matter how high up that window is. Diavolo was keeping his approach slow and even, like I was a frightened animal instead of a wounded predator. I leaned a hip against the windowsill and placed a casual hand on the window glass as I looked at him.

"How am I?" I repeated and he hesitated, nodding. "Still beyond livid." The glass fractured under the heat of my fire and then shattered under my weight when I threw myself out it. Diavolo's shout was lost behind me.

Glass sparkled around me in every color as I plummeted. The wind screamed in my face and the ground was rushing up, but with practiced ease, my wings unVeiled and I swooped up and away from the ground at the last second. There were screams of surprise and pain as students scrambled out of my way as I swooped back towards the sky.

I caught a glimpse of Diavolo's stricken expression as I climbed in elevation. If he wanted, he could chase after me and would likely catch me, but there were too many witnesses and our relationship had been a secret. For once, I let the coldness of flight seep into my bones and heart, numbing me against the pain.

-------------

A couple of hours later, Lucifer was waiting for me at HoLs front door with his arms crossed over his chest and a severe frown creasing his lips. He or one of his brothers must have seen me land at the gates. His crimson gaze tracks down my drenched form and then back up.

"You're soaked," he said.

"I went swimming," I returned shortly, trying to skitter around him. His hand flashed out and caught my arm. I stared at his gloved fingers instead of meeting his gaze. "It helps with the pain, Luci. Let it go."

His frown softened with worry as he tugged me around to fully face him. "Pain? You weren't seriously injured when..." he stumbled on that one and I cocked my head at him "...during the incident."

"Incident?" I repeated in a flat voice. "You mean when the other Lyssa was murdered by your psycho of a youngest brother, who then proceeded to get his ass handed to him by me and was then comatose for three days with nightmares so severe he's still unable to come near me. That incident?"

Lucifer winced at my blunt recounting of the night Belphegor escaped his prison. "Yes, that incident," he agreed. "You weren't seriously injured. Did you injure yourself jumping out the window?"

"No." The word is flat and my tone uninviting, but it doesn't deter him. He tries to tug me towards the stairs and I dig my heels in to resist, which is rendered useless when he sleeps me up into his arms. Struggling against him proves ineffective even as I shriek, "Put me down!"

Lucifer just tuts at that and strides past the curious heads that have poked out of their rooms. "Stop being a child. Unlike my idiot brothers, you do not hold a pact with me and, thus, cannot escape me." I snarled at him but ultimately went limp and pressed my head to his shoulder.

The rest of the walk was in silence until we reached his rooms and he set me on my feet. He reached to lock the door and then swore when I bolted for the bathroom. I got five steps before Lucifer yanked me against his chest and hauled me to the bed. We grappled for a few seconds but his larger size and strength allowed him to pin my legs with his and get my wrists in one hand. He used his free hand to grab my face and force me to look at him.

"Why are you being like this?!" he asked with exasperation. "I am not letting you up until you explain, in detail, why you are behaving like a child! We care about you, so let us help you."

It was right then that the pain throbbed through me, making me arch and clench my teeth against the scream. A thousand severed nerves all pulsing at the same time, trying to connect to what was no longer there and yet still there. Black started to creep into my vision and Lucifer's face swam above me. His lips moved in words but all I heard was a loud ringing. Gradually, the pain was pulled through my twelve strongest bonds and dispersed until I could take a breath.

Slowly, I relaxed beneath Lucifer. He released my wrists and I grabbed his jacket while he cupped my face. "What was that? Your magic surged and then receded."

"I am not a child, Lucifer," I gritted out. "And that was a magical backlash from the other Lyssa's death." He was about to get up when I tugged him back to me. "I don't need help, because it's already being taken care of."

His brow furrowed. "How? You bear no new magic or spells of any sort. More so, who? Solomon would have told us and neither Simeon or Luke have the abilities or blessings that would help you in this situation."

"It's a dragon thing," I said, trying to pull at his hands.

"That isn't a good enough explanation, Lys," he told me. I finally pulled back and turned my eyes from his. His next words were a soft plea. "Will you please trust me so that I can help you?"

My hands clench in his jacket so hard my knuckles turn white and I press my forehead into his neck. What he's asking is for me to give up the secrets of my dame's species. Even if most outside my clan scorned me, it was hard to shake a lifetime of loyalty. Not when...

"You watched me die, Lucifer," I said quietly. "Just because I love you doesn't mean that I can tell you everything. It's like you with Diavolo. There are some things we will just never be able to share."

He rolled us onto our sides and pulled me into a tight hug, tucking my head under his chin. "I...I hesitated...and then it was too late. You will never know how grateful I was to see you come charging at my brother," he murmured into my hair. "If this backlash...gets worse, will you allow me to help?"

To that, I can't bring myself to face him. "You can't. Only Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Satan, and Beel could help."

His arms stiffened around me. "You must hold a pact in order for us to help you?"

"It's not a trap, Luci, it's just how my magic is. There's a certain give and take that I can use the pacts for, aside from summoning and orders," I explained carefully. "The backlash can be absorbed and dispersed across my pactmates." Too much information and Lucifer would put together that dragons could form something like a pact with each other as well.

"I see," he said after a long moment and maybe he did.

-------------

The next morning, I am contemplating the food left that Beel didn't eat during his midnight food raid. It's my turn for cooking breakfast, but I'm having a hard time putting something edible out of a dozen Hell jalapenos, milk, sugar, and three Poison Apples. I'm considering just abandoning the other six boys and making something for Luci and myself when a certain scent finally registered.

Earth, smoke, and charcoal. The attic always smelled that way whenever I visited Belphegor. I spin and, sure enough, there he was in the doorway with a cow pillow clutched to his chest.

My body moves reflexively as I hop into the counter in a crouch and flare my wings at him with a warning hiss. Fangs, claws, and a trail of scales finish unVeiling as he gasps and took a quick step back...right onto the hem of his pajamas...and sent himself crashing to the floor.

Beel peers around the doorway at me and gives me a puzzled look as he helps his twin up. "Is that a new cooking technique? Or are you going to try using some of your scales as a new ingredient? That might be tasty."

"Uh," I stammered. So, Belphegor wasn't here to finish me? "No, Beel. Belphegor startled me. I just...uh...

"Well, you startled me. And who does that?" Belphegor demanded, waving a hand at my position.

"The don't sneak up on people you've killed!" I snarled back.

"I didn't kill you! It was a different you!"

"Dragons are interlinked on a conscious and unconscious level, so you killed part of me when you choked the life out of her! I felt it!" I hurled back at a near shriek.

Silence met my statement and I realized how much I had given away. Fuck. Six months spent protecting our secrets and I give away one of the most important ones. Belphegor is staring at me in shock and horror and Beel just looks like he wants to cry...again.

"I-" Belphegor starts.

"As entertaining as this scene is, I would ask you get off the counter, Lyssa," Luci says coolly. "It's hardly sanitary. Beel? What are you and Belphie doing here? You know he isn't supposed to be around Lyssa yet."

I hop down and Veil my draconic features in the same move. Beel is looking between his twin and I and I'm just holding a staring contest with said twin. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, I turn to the fridge and grab the Poison Apples, the milk, and a knife. I move for the sugar next and yank it down as Beel says, "I just...I just wanted a snack. No one is ever up this early. I...I didn't mean... didn't think anyone..."

"It's fine, Beel," I say and slide around Belphegor, whose nostrils flare as I do so. "We live in the same house. This is bound to happen." Lucifer is still staring at his youngest brother with a mixture of emotions I can't entirely decipher. Holding the items with one arm, I tug at his sleeve with my other hand. "Luci?" Half his attention shifts to me. "We need to get more groceries. I'll order take out for everyone else and head into RAD early if you want to join me?"

Belphegor's eyes are flickering rapidly between us. "That sounds fine, my love," he replies and kisses me on the forehead. "Beel, take more care going forward."

Belphegor looks like a fish when Lucifer takes my hand and gently tugs me after him. Beel and I share a look of misery before he vanishes from my sight.

When we reach his study, he tugs me in and locks the door behind us. Then he leans against me and traps me against between the door and his body. "Please don't be so reckless, my heart," he says, gently stroking my cheek. "I cannot bear to lose you again."

The plea in his voice almost breaks my heart. "I'm sorry, love, I'll do better going forward," I return.

His kiss then is both gentle and desperate, his hands still gentle on my face. When we break apart, I am flushed and he is smirking. "So, what did you manage to scavenge?"

And like that, we slip into our usual morning routine. He works on his paperwork and I chatter about recent things that have happened with his brothers and RAD (we very carefully avoid mention of Diavolo or Barbatos or Belphegor). I skin and slice the apples as he works and apply the sugar and hunt out some cups for the milk. It's not the perfect breakfast, but we're both laughing by the end when he is trying to feed me his last bite of Poison Apples and I'm insisting that he eat it.

When we head to RAD, the others are just waking up and the first round of food has arrived...and Beel has already eaten half of it. The sounds of the normal chaos makes me smile, but that dies when I see Belphegor waiting for us by the entrance.

My smile is stiff as I direct it at him and lean into Lucifer's arm. "Belphegor. You received the first round of food, then."

"Yes...thank you. Beel... appreciates the thought." He lingered in such a way that blocked us from leaving and I felt Luci's muscles shift under my hand. "You two...are...together?"

"Yeah, very." Luci gave me an amused look and then flicked his dark face to his brother as I leaned into his arm. "Have been for a while, now."

"You...never said..."

"So?"

He was speechless with that. "Did you want something, Belphie?" Lucifer asks softly. "You are directly violating the rules that were laid down."

"I'm sorry," he blurts.

I lean sharply into Lucifer and hiss. "Sorry doesn't undo your actions. Go back to Beel, Belphegor." He flees.

Lucifer watches me darkly for a moment before he's tugging me after him. The walk to his RAD office is silent and I release his arm when we get to the grounds but follow after him into his office. He pauses on the threshold and studies me instead of making his way to his desk.

I'm selecting a book when I realize he's broken our pattern. "Will you talk to me about what's going on, Lys?" he asks and the quiet plea in his voice breaks my heart. "Please."

Playing with the book in my hands, I can't look at him. "You heard what I said this morning," I say and lean into him when he puts his arms around my waist.

"That part of you also died," he returns quietly. He plucks the book out of my hand and reshelves it. His hands gently turn me to face him and a finger under my chin tilts my chin up to meet his dark gaze. "Is that what the backlash is from?"

"No." His frown deepens as he studies me and I sigh. "When the other Lyssa was killed, she was coming to find me because we were aware of each other from the second that Barbatos and Diavolo sent me back. Dragons are connected on a conscious and unconscious level by magical bonds that we form with each other across our lifetimes. We can exchange thoughts, feelings, even borrow magic, or even take on wounds for each other. Currently, my family is dealing with the backlash when it flares up and my dame is working to fix the fractured bonds that ripped when the other Lyssa died, because her bonds and mine were tangled and doubled."

Lucifer's face is oddly pale in the light of his office. "And your pacts?"

"Also tangled, but-with the way I keep them tightly shut-none of your brothers felt the punch of her death. I've already gone to each of them and fixed the rips." His shoulders relaxed fractionally.

"Will you explain what you mean by 'felt the punch of her death?'" he asks, stroking gloved fingers through my hair.

"It's the downside of being so interconnected. We feel when one of us dies, when we're injured, unless the bonds are tightly closed. It's like part of our soul gets ripped out of us while getting punched in the gut. It's..." I search his dark gaze for the right words and settle on "...a breathless moment of agony beyond anything that you've ever felt until you lose someone again." His expression fractured, likely thinking of Lilith.

"And pacts are like bonds," he states.

I lift one shoulder and drop it. "For me, they are, except to sense or exchange thoughts. Solomon doesn't seem to be able to do what I can with my pactmates, even with Asmo."

"That's...good to know." He moves us from the bookshelf to the couch and I let him pull me into his lap with an arm looped around his neck. I nuzzle into him, enjoying his scent. Cinnamon and wood smoke had never been so comforting before I met him.

"Who commands who with bonds?" he asks and I know he's fishing for information but I've already gone this far.

"Neither, unless the words used in forming the bonds are very specific. Right now, the only one who can command anything is my dame and she's the ruler of our species." I mull it over for a second and add, "I suppose our Clan Heads could give commands to their clans as well, but my dame is the head of ours, so it could be different."

"And the magical backlash comes from the severing of ties that still technically exist even though you died." It's a question in the form of a statement and I give him an amused look.

"Our magic wasn't sure what to do with two sets of bonds that were identical. It was building to do... something...when she died and took her bonds with her. Me, being the living person where they should have died, was hurt in the backlash of that magic."

"What about identical twins?"

"We have fraternal and identical twins in our dame's brood, but their bonds are all unique. It is the personality and experiences the people have gone through that make them who they are. It doesn't matter if the DNA is the same, they are two separate people who feel different things. As far as I can tell, that Lyssa and I went through the same life and experiences with you lot."

As far as I understood it, Barbatos had merged the two timelines and the memories of everyone else had also merged. It wasn't something that I was going to dwell on without a reason. This Lucifer was the one I had fallen in love with and that was what mattered.

Lucifer questioned me a little further about specifics, but ultimately we had to let the subject drop. He returned to his paperwork and I selected a book that I would read as he worked. The fireplace crackled merrily in the background until Diavolo burst through the door...

...and out the window I went, with their shouts following me.

-------------

It became our strange kind of normal over the next few weeks. Diavolo would try and corner me places after my classes or would try and summon me. His summons would go unanswered and I made sure to mark all the windows in the school and memorize every exit. Lucifer tried to talk to me a few times about my avoiding Diavolo, but it ended with harsh words and an almost fight each time.

Gifts continued to be sent and returned or burnt. The messengers grew wary of me and started refusing to take the gifts to me until it was just one individual that would literally go out of his way to drop the gifts off in a place where I would find them but he didn't have to interact with me.

Slowly, things returned to normal with the brothers and more and more they would find me in Lucifer's bed or study with him. Sometimes my pactmates would spend an evening with us, but more often they would steal me for their schemes and antics.

Beel and Belphegor kept their distance but even they began to integrate themselves into my life. I couldn't have Beel without Belphegor and I wanted Beel to be a part of my life. Beel and I started with cooking something together while Belphegor hung out in the kitchen.

Then...

Diavolo switched tactics on me.

It was another of my Politics of Heaven and Hell lectures that he took over and asked me to stay behind. Except that Lucifer was stationed in front of the window and had no intention of letting me leave. Diavolo stood by the door as the other students nervously withdrew and left us to our devices.

I stayed rooted at my desk on the opposite side of the room. As the last of the students flitted out, scarlet and golden gazes settled on me. The door shut and locked and I was trapped with them.

"Congratulations," I tell them bitterly and sit back in my chair as Diavolo starts towards me. "You've managed to corner me."

He changes his course when I get up and head for Lucifer. Luci moves subtly to stand in front of the window, but dons a shocked expression when I simply lean into him. He puts a hand in the small of my back and shares a look with Diavolo.

"Lys. Sweetling," Diavolo says, sliding his hands onto my shoulders.

"Don't call me that."

"You haven't officially broken up with me. I'll stop calling you that if you truly wish to break up. Do you?"

It's something that I had considered over the last few weeks, but had ultimately put off in favor of not thinking about him at all.

"I don't know," I mutter. Hope seems to spark in him as he pushes himself into my back. The heat of his body is familiar and has me turning my head to look at him. His expression is bright as I accept his hesitant kiss.

Letting him kiss me, I tune into my pacts and bonds for a moment, just to feel the fractures in their once flawless texture. Frustration wells up inside me and the bonds spark at the negative emotions in me, reaching out with curiosity and concern-from my family-and more concern from Luci's brothers. Its Satan's rage that I touch and awaken my own, calling it to me as a shield and sharpening my temper.

Diavolo seems to notice the shift in my body as I kiss him back, pushing away from Lucifer and turning to face our lover. Because he is still our lover. I can't... won't...lose him over this rage, but he is the one that had made the decision leading to the other Lyssa's murder and my love wasn't free anymore, not to the Devildom's prince.

I step into him until our chests are pressed together and he has to look down at me. His expression is still hopeful and it irritates me all the more. Did he think forcing me to confront him would earn my forgiveness?

"You lied to me," I said gently and softly.

His expression showed just a hint of uncertainty then, like he was trying to wrack his memories of our time together. It was satisfying to watch the hope drain out of his face as he continued to stare at me and know I wasn't softening towards him.

"W-what?" he asked after struggling for a long minute.

"You said you always keep your promise and never lie. You said that at our first meeting and then you forgot what you promised me."

"Lys," Lucifer said, voice low and urgent.

"No, Luci. You don't get to soften this. Or have you forgotten our fights from the last few weeks?" I glanced lazily at Lucifer and the demon flinched. "He's forced this confrontation and I'm not done being livid."

Diavolo's hands clutched my waist then and I turned my eyes back to his sudden desperation. "Lys, sweetling. I'm sorry."

"I am not your sweetling right now, princeling," I drawled at him and he flinched at the name. I hadn't called him that since my first month here. Then, he'd found it cute. Now, it was a reference and reminder of when I hadn't trusted him. "And I do not accept your apology." He flinched again. "Step back when I step forward, princeling." The words were soft again.

I couldn't force him to do anything, but if he wanted to keep me he would do it. And he did. Six steps back from the window, a turn of my hips, and a shove of my hands had him in the professor's chair. I stared down at him, feeling my expression turn to scorn.

"You should have asked Barbaros for information if you were going to force this," I said casually and he paled. "You know, I've never understood how my dame chose me over her Soulmarked mate over me. Not until today." I placed my fingers on his throat and felt gratification at how trusting he was of me and lifted his chin so readily. His pulse throbbed under my palm. "Did you know she hates him and loves him, still? Despite the children he gave her from his affair." His pulse sped up under my palm. "I love you still but I hate what you did to my family. I hate that you lied to me, princeling, and that my dame pays the price every day."

"W-what?" Diavolo asked.

I took my time fitting myself into his lap, brushing and grinding his erection, making sure to drive his eyes up into his sockets. "S-sweetling, please."

"No."

His hands tightened on my waist as he rutted into me. My fingers slide along his chest, rucking his shirt up until I could feel the heat of his skin and quieted the roiling emotions spilling through the bonds and pacts. Quietly, gently, I closed the connections off and let them fade into my blood and bones again, leaving only the rage I held with him. "Are you so desperate, princeling, that your fist wasn't enough this week?" I asked as I slide my fingers over his abs.

"L-Lys," he gasped and I pulled back.

I gave him a minute to collect himself under me and felt Lucifer's hands slide onto my shoulders. A quick glance at him revealed still red eyes and I knew he was gauging the situation.

"Would you like me to tell you how you lied to me?" I asked, leaning into Diavolo again and letting my breath feather across his ear. Gently, I bite the expanse of skin under his ear. His pulse is erratic under my palm as I squeeze his throat a little and he groans.

He's not used to me teasing him and leans forward to press his face into my neck, breathing hard when blunt teeth shift to fangs and my bite becomes hard. "Lys...I wanted to...talk," he says and his voice is strangled.

I hum at him and begin to undo the buttons on his vest and tug the already rucked shirt aside. "So talk, princeling," I say, swiping a thumb across his nipple and enjoying his shiver. "I'm going to keep touching you. I've missed your body." His cock throbs beneath me and I grind down against him. "What is it, princeling?"

"I...I love you, Lys. Can we...start over?" he asks and I sink my teeth into his throat. He moans under the bite and widens his legs to spread mine so he can rut up into me. "We should...s-save this...for the castle, s-sweetling."

A growl vibrates in my throat as I suck a bruise into his skin, or try. Gloved fingers wrap into my hair and tug me into Lucifer's chest. "No marks, my love," Lucifer says softly and then releases me.

Giving Diavolo a considering look, I take in his disheveled appearance and heated, golden gaze. Dropping a swift kiss on his lips, I smile and sweetly ask, "Do you really want to?"

A blush dusts his cheeks as he slowly shakes his head. "I've missed you," he admits. "You've sent back all of the gifts or burned them. I don't want to miss this chance."

He readily submits to the kiss that I give him and let's me tangle our tongues without trying to take control. My hands slide down his chest to his belt and make quick work of it to ease his cock out of his boxers. With quick, practiced movements, I have him moaning freely into my mouth and thrusting into my fist. His moans turn into strangled whimpers when I halt my movements and pinch my fingers around the base of his cock to prevent his orgasm.

I sit back in his lap and lean into Luci's chest. Lucifer's hands drift along my sides, stroking and offering comfort. His erection brushes against my ass but he kept the touch brief, like he didn't want to distract me. Diavolo tries to wrap a hand around mine but pulls away when I don't react to his touch.

"If I asked you to bend over this desk and let Luci fuck you, would you?" I ask and Luci inhales sharply.

Diavolo's darkening gaze flicks to Lucifer and then back to me. "Would you...Can I...keep holding you?" he asks breathlessly.

"What was the promise you made me?" I return.

"That...that we...wouldn't use...or discard you," he groans.

"You, princeling," I remind him, dropping my hands from his body. "You promised me that neither my kith nor blood kin would be hurt for my stay here in hell with you and yours." Understanding and memory flashed in his eyes, finally connecting.

"I...did," he says cautiously. "And...you died." Almost instantly, his erection is flagging.

"And in that dying, you ripped the magic that binds me to my kith and blood kin." The rage flickers in my heart and leaves me feeling tired and on the brink of the tears I have been suppressing. Regret and guilt flicker across his face as he leans forward to cup my cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Lys," he says, thumbs brushing at the tears that finally spill, blurring the world and his form. Lucifer's arms circle my waist and hug me tightly to his chest. "I'm so sorry."

It's so easy to let him wrap me into his embrace, to wrap my arms around his neck and lean into him with the memory of betrayal. Her death, my death, had been horrible but easy. Feeling the shattering of my bonds even when they were left intact had left me in breathless, screaming agony as pain and horror and fear had bled over and washed through my bond mates.

The sobs that wrack my body are painful and deep, reaching into the magic that binds me to my family and awakening that memory. Pain flares through me, a thousand nerves on fire and I can only cling between my lovers and gasp as the world fades.

I'd never been more alone than I had been in that moment.

---------

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #afab reader #diavolo x mc #lucifer x mc #dialuci #diavolo #lucifer x diavolo #lucifer x mc x diavolo

12 notes · View notes

shimmeringweeds · 8 months

Text

Like everyone else, I've been having some thoughts on Link Click's latest episodes.

Namely, I'd like to discuss whether Link Click's story is deep enough into the "mystery" genre to actually play by the rules of a detective mystery.

Is Link Click's mystery even meant to be solvable? Should we all take the ending's advice and just "quit overthinking"? My thought is no! Below the cut are some classic rules that may guide us in solving this tale.

As we all know, the fun in reading a mystery comes from attempting to solve it. Therefore, there must be an agreement between the reader and the author that the mystery is in fact solvable by the reader. Guidelines were made in the late 1920s (Agatha Christie's time) regarding the rules of a mystery. They are the Ten Commandments of Ronald Knox and S.S Van Dine's Twenty Rules. I'll be directly quoting, and you can read them in full here: Link

Of course, as the mystery genre evolves, it is no longer bound to these rules. (Link Click ignores Knox's 2nd, as it's a supernatural mystery, for example) But the sentiment of guaranteeing reader solvability stands true.

Points that stand out to me include:

Knox's 1st: The criminal must be mentioned in the early part of the story, but must not be anyone whose thoughts the reader has been allowed to know.

I want to take this as meaning that our clue to the WHO and WHY of all this might exist as far back as "Emma." But does "early part of the story" maybe refer to S1 as a whole, or should we only count S2?

Knox's 6th: No accident must ever help the detective, nor must he ever have an accountable intuition which proves to be right.

I believe the story has followed this. No problem is solved by "just a hunch." There has always been evidence provided to the viewer.

Knox's 10th: Twins...and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them.

We were prepared for the switch, and many of you called it! Evidence that Link Click IS playing by some of these rules. (go team!)

Other Knox rules involves the "Detective" and the "Sidekick." Neither the detective nor the sidekick may conceal facts from the reader, nor may they be a culprit. Which completely (suspiciously) excludes Lu Guang from either role. Cheng Xiaoshi could fit the role of detective, and if there IS a single designated sidekick, (a Watson whose job it is to voice thoughts at the intelligence level of the reader) it is Qiao Ling, who is doing an excellent job of telling us what we want to hear and possibly leading us astray.

Van Dine's 1st: The reader must have equal opportunity with the detective for solving the mystery. All clues must be plainly stated and described.

Okay. This is not a novel, so I don't think clues need to be plainly stated, but they must be plainly shown (like the damn kettle.)

Van Dine's 2nd: No willful tricks or deceptions may be played on the reader other than those played legitimately by the criminal on the detective himself.

I think this is where many of us have ill sentiments toward the writers. I want to give benefit of the doubt about the eyes, seeing as the characters themselves seen to be unawares. I am solely focused on body language for future assumptions made. It still hurts. This is why it hurts.

Van Dine's 10th: The culprit must turn out to to be a person who has played a more or less prominent part in the story -- that is, a person with whom the reader is familiar and in whom he takes an interest. For a writer to fasten the crime, in the final chapter, on a stranger or person who has played a wholly unimportant part in the tale, is to confess to his inability to match wits with the reader.

This is a rule I find to be quite important and that worries me most. Whoever "hat man" is, I NEED him to be someone we've met. Better if we've known them since s1. Because, truly, as far as mysteries go? I think we are too deep in for a new, important character to come out of left field. But, um, well, the options are pretty limited in that case, aren't they?

Van Dine's 15th: The truth of the problem must at all times be apparent -- provided the reader is shrewd enough to see it. By this I mean that if the reader, after learning the explanation for the crime, should reread the book, he would see that the solution had, in a sense, been staring him in the face -- that all the clues really pointed to the culprit -- and that, if he had been as clever as the detective, he could have solved the mystery himself.

This rule is the heart of the matter. In following this rule, we can trust that (with 3 episodes left) all the clues we need are RIGHT. THERE. That we have a right to be blissfully frustrated because we can trust that the mystery is solvable. Is that the case? I honestly don't know, and I wish I did.

I also want to mention Van Dine's 18th and 19th which state that a crime must never turn out to be accident or suicide (as followed with Emma), and the motive for all crimes should be personal (Liu Min, Qian Jin, and Li TianChen check the box, even if we can only guess at the specific motives in relation to the victims.)

So, I think we all agree that Link Click embodies many genres at once. I could never, in good faith, recommend this story to someone as solely a mystery. But is Link Click enough of a mystery that we can trust it to abide by these rules? I'm not fully convinced we can even designate any character as "the detective", making some of these rules (for detective mysteries) moot.

What do you think? Is what we are being shown something we can trust and solve? Can we use these rules to help us find the solution? Or should we define this show as a drama/suspense first and a mystery second? I, personally, want to believe in the mystery.

But please, whatever you do, don't stop thinking about it. This is too much fun!

#link click #时光代理人 #yes I've played Umineko it's why I'm like this #link click season 2 #shiguang dailiren

28 notes · View notes

slingshot78 · 9 months

Text

It's been FAR too long since I've posted about Crosshairs/on this account at all, and somehow I still have tons of people interacting with the content....so thank you very much!!!!

Today I wanted to kinda approach a subject I inch away from because everyone has their own perspective and views on crosshairs as a character. Simply because a lot of his personality you have to makeup with the lack of attention placed on him in Bayverse.

I think though that I have a pretty good feeling of his character so I figured I'd share some things with people after analyzing him in the movies (a million times)

Section 1 (Teamwork)

One of Crosshairs biggest "made up" traits is that he hates teamwork, which is kind of just this generalized idea bout him which just isn't true at all!! Infact, he's one of the only Cybertronians in the movie to actively partake in on screen teamwork! (with drift actually, three times!)

I won't get heavily into the teamwork between the two, because I could infact go on forever but the tag team with onslaught, when fighting Megatron in The last night, and once more in Age of Extinction! Which is hard to tell because you don't see it, but they switch dinobots/ride the same dinobot multiple times if you count the number of dinobots without a autobot on em!

Crosshairs overall ability to work with other people is EXTREMELY overlooked because of his opening scenes in AOE, which I totally understand!

Another pet peeve of mine is when people call him the starscream of the autobots, don't get me wrong! Love starscream, but Crosshairs is just....the complete opposite. Starscream places actual effort into harming Megatron and/or taking his place. Crosshairs talks big yes, but never raises a hand to prime and is one of the only bots who just shuts up and doesn't go against OP's orders OR makes a snarky comment. When it comes to Optimus prime, it seems he has a lot of respect that he doesn't know how to deal with. This point just gets proven more in the end of AOE when Optimus "tames" grimlock.

Mini section 2 (Accent)

This one is pretty well known information, but I have seen people confuse his accent for Australian or something similar to it. It is infact British and NOT Australian.

Section 3 (Redditors)

I might get....a little passionate in this section, just simply because this makes me very upset. The whole argument that Crosshairs was written by a child (which surprisingly was said a lot) and that his Design is slighty weird.

Firstly, Crosshairs entire character is NOT classic generic hero. Infact, most people see him as the farthest thing, some people don't see him as hero at all!!! Crosshairs has a undeniable ability to hate what he does, but is amazing at it regardless.

While he may not want to do it, (which might be tied into his past, that I won't get into becauase I've already gotten into it before in a previous post) he always always does and he's never actually left anyone behind or betrayed anyone. Crosshairs character is extremely in depth, not because he's "edgy" or because he's just this mean stereotypical character. It's because he simply is just that kind of guy.

When you think of Crosshairs personality, try to picture a fun guy, topped off with this irritable personality, a gruff exterior but sort of soft on the inside obviously. He never admits how much good he wants to do in the world, becauase why would he do that? Crosshairs is definitely a believer in the "actions mean more than words"

To Top it All Off?

"why doesn't he have a sniper rifle"

Firstly, if he had a sniper rifle: that'd be amazing. And a great element to include. Imagine him being all mysterious, hiding with a sniper rifle!

But unfortunately he has the point blank guns because, screentime, it looks better, and of course the Bayverse syndrome where your weapon has to match your personality!

#crosshairs #transformers aoe #transformerscrosshairs #transformers #age of extinction #crossdrift

37 notes · View notes

baconcolacan · 1 year

Note

How would Stay Tord react or take care of Tom, if he secretly overworked himself and fell asleep somewhere?, (like on the desk or just in a chair lol)

Not an art request

You guys make it so hard to resist.

Words: 5513 "Prompt" not to the letter.

“You should clock out soon, boss.”

“Yeah yeah, Paul. Soon, okay?” Tord yawned, long and slow, and felt his eye twitch. A burning, itchy, irritating feeling started to make itself known as he did so. He blinked a few times and winced at how dry his eye felt, he switched his pen into his right hand to continue writing, while his left hand reached up and rubbed at his eye. Another yawn escaped him at the action, he felt his left leg start bouncing as his body began to stretch out, his joints popped as he flexed, making him let out a pleased groan as the stiffness within him began to abate.

His eye still felt like it was stinging though.

“Paul, could you get my eyedrops at the table over there??” Tord gathered the files on the table into his hands, he tapped them against the surface to get them all aligned before he turned to his desk drawer to deposit them. Rows of different work files greeted the weary military commander, some tagged with small red stickers to indicate that they still needed his attention, all in varying shades depending on their urgency.

He felt a small twinge in his heart when he remembered the day Tom had come into his office with a pad full of the stickers.

“You’re overwhelming yourself, idiot. Step aside, I’m fixing your shit.”

He put up a half-hearted protest that day, not really meaning it, just wanting an excuse to mope and lean against his beloved to whine to his heart’s content. Usually, if he was being bitchy enough about it, Tom would acquiesce and coddle him a little, as much as he was allowed to in public at least, and Tord would never say no to his husband spoiling him with a few stolen kisses.

He felt another pang in his heart at that, knowing how Tom would have made it home by now if Paul was telling him to clock out. This would be…what, his fourth time working late? No doubt his husband was already asleep. Still, the thought of Tom having to eat dinner alone again made his stomach twist guiltily, sour in the way it felt.

Still….he’d been pushing work back so much recently, and it was starting to pile up and cause minor problems to arise in his army, it may not look like much now, but too many of them will become a much bigger problem all together.

…was he really prioritizing work over his own husband?

Tord bit down on his lower lip at the thought, a tangy, metallic taste seeped onto his tongue.

He shook his head.

He set the files he had to the very back where most finished paperwork was, which wasn’t much compared to those incomplete. He sighed deeply to himself and clicked his tongue when he felt his eye sting yet again, his hand ghosted over the files with light pink stickers before settling for those with dark red ones. He frowned as he rubbed at his sore eye again.

“Paul?? Eyedrops please…” He held his right hand out to the direction he knew his General was seated at. Paul and he had decided to do some of the accounting work today, which was the result of an unfortunate case of the flu spreading to almost everyone in their accounting department. He had been beside himself when he caught wind of a significant number of their employees requesting sick leave, it had been such a headache to deal with at the start.

Of course, he had some words with patient zero, the whole point of being sick was to not report to work at all! He wasn’t running a sweat shop! He preferred quality work over quantity, and paperwork that had blotchy writing and traces of snot and drool was not quality.

Needless to say, patient zero- and all their unfortunate victims- were on paid sick leave until further notice. ‘Do not come to work’ was a highly stressed point, especially to patient zero.

Paul and he trudged through all the work they left behind, with Paul taking refuge at his tea table while he camped out at his work desk. Paul had been somewhat annoying about it though, always complaining about how his back hurt, or how his hands were cramping, or how stupid it was they didn’t think to invent tech that made paperwork easier, or how its unethical of him to withhold lunch until the paperwork was done bla bla bla…….

Tord just learned to tune him out.

……..Wait…..Why can’t Tord hear him complaining?

“Paul???” Tord finally looked up from his desk drawer, three new files with bright red stickers clutched in his hand, he blinked in surprise at the darkness of his own office, half the room’s lights had been switched off. His brows furrowed together as he looked over to where his tea table was stationed at to his right. Now shadowed in darkness.

There he saw Paul’s own mountain of files stacked precariously on top of each other, papers jutted out haphazardly while a multitude of paperclips kept them all from falling apart. He spotted the plastic cup of used pens that Paul had begun to collect, after the first three had run out of ink mid-way through his work pile, which had looked to be overflowing with much too many pens at this point.

Paul’s thermos- which had been delivered by Patryck- was still sitting idle on top of the tea table next to his paper pile, alongside his calculator and reference papers of past accounting records. His service dress cap was still hanging on the edge of his chair, dangling precariously over the wastebin he had moved to his side, after a number of errors had him throwing out a few of his papers in frustration, as it had meant he would have to redo them- and their calculations- again.

But, amongst all of these items, there was no sign of Paul himself.

Tord frowned, feeling a smatter of disbelief that one of his Generals would just suddenly leave his station without excusing himself. He scoffed with a slight bout of irritation as he fell back on his chair, uncaringly dropping the files he held onto his work desk as he combed his fingers through his own hair. The nerve of that man!

Had he been too lenient with Paul?? With Patryck? Sure they were friends, but during work hours he was their boss, not to mention their superior officer, and this right here was a blatant disrespect for the chain of command.

Maybe he needs to have a talk with his staff soon, about duty and respect, maybe.

Paul had just told him to clock out, when the hell did he leave??

….What time was it?

Tord let his head loll to the side, he clicked his tongue in irritation when he realized that the grandfather clock in his office was in the shaded part of it. He squinted his eyes at the confounded thing before he gave up entirely. Why the hell does he still even have analog stuff??

….ah, yeah, aesthetics……

With a tired sigh, Tord turned to his right arm and removed the glove covering it, a glint of metallic red greeted him along with a soft blue glow of lights. He pressed down on the middle of his palm until he heard a click.

“Time?” He blew out as he rubbed at his temple with his free hand.

“It is 2:09 a.m. Red Leader.”

Two o’- What?!

Tord sat up at that, he spun his chair partway around to look at his grand arch window behind him. Outside of RA HQ, he could see a few of the night watch already stationed at their towers, the cold blue of the floodlights on top of the towers shining brightly up ahead at the farthermost territory of their HQ. He spotted the shadows of the night shift Red Sentries zipping across the surrounding forests, sometimes hovering over to the watchtowers to deposit their camera footage to the database before zooming off again.

A wanning gibbous moon shone high in the sky.

Christ, he didn’t realize how long he had been working for.

Paul often clocked out around 11 p.m. at the latest, so that means….Paul had told him to clock out 3 hours ago?!

But- But he just heard him say that!

Oh hell….maybe he really does need to leave this work well alone for now, his sense of time is starting to get all screwy….

….Fuck….he was a hypocrite, he’s patient zero now. Poor Paul was patient one, he supposed. Though, at least Paul had sense to still keep a somewhat decent time. He always did say that Tord’s work-life balance was-

…..Shit.

Thomas.

His husband. His poor husband who he hasn’t even been paying any attention to this week. His poor husband who he left all alone this week because he never came home on time anymore. His poor beloved who would have been eating all his meals alone because Tord decided that neglecting his health- and love life- was worth it to finish a budget record.

Oh my god…..he’s becoming a workaholic asshole. An absent husband!!

Dread began to build up in Tord’s chest as his thoughts began to spiral.

What if Thomas thought he didn’t love him anymore?? He wasn’t able to tell him he loved him this week!

Or worse! What if Thomas was falling into a state of anagapesis?! Falling out of love with him because he’s been a neglectful, unloving, asshole of a husband!!

“I hope you and your literal work wife are happy together.”

Tord felt himself blanch as the blood began to drain from his face. An unwanted image of his husband, of his dear sweet Thomas, dabbing a handkerchief to his eyes as tears fell down his cheeks. Imaginary Thomas continued to sob as he slammed a piece of paper onto his desk, still weeping heavily into the white lacy handkerchief he kept to his face.

Tord looked down at the paper on his desk in sheer horror.

Divorce papers.

“I’m leaving you for a real man, Tord Larsin!”

Tord looked back up at imaginary Thomas in front of his desk, only to stand up in shock as a faceless man holding a crudely made instrument had pulled his husband to his side. Imaginary Thomas wept into his shoulder before glaring back at him, causing Tord to physically flinch.

“Hello!” The faceless man greeted cheerily with a wave. “Yes I am a real man!”

“He plays the bass, actually LIKES ska, has a normal job at a coffee shop, and thinks anime is super weird!” Imaginary Thomas huffed and hugged himself closer to the homewrecker. “And he actually pays attention to me and LOVES me! Unlike YOU!” Imaginary Tom sniffled before the faceless man began to turn them both away.

“Okay honey say bye bye now! Let us go to our real people home and have many children!”

Imaginary Tom looked back at him, glaring balefully.

“Goodbye, Larsin.”

Tord let out a horrified shriek, thankfully unheard due to his soundproofed office.

NO FUCKING WAY WAS THAT EVER GOING TO HAPPEN!!!

He bolted over his work desk, uncaring of the paperwork that was sent flying in every which way, as he burst out of his own office with all the aggressive force of a charging bull and the desperation of a damned man running from the devil himself.

‘DON’T LEAVE ME FOR A BARISTA, THOMAS!!!!’

Should he be concerned that he had just had a vivid and active hallucination?

Well yes.

But that wasn’t his main concern at the moment, plus, he was much too sleep deprived to be thinking straight anyway. Ah, such is life, and love, supposedly.

Tord ran down the hall, his vision tunneling and his train of thought chugging along on just one, heavily walled, and extremely magnetized, track. He could feel his heart thundering in his chest as thoughts of his beloved husband visiting a coffee shop was starting to form into an irrational fear, the back of his thoughts were already thinking up of ways to get his Thomas quality coffee that was so goddamned good he would never even want to set foot in some whore coffee shop!

Thomas was his, his, HIS!

NO FUCKING BASS PLAYING BARISTA WAS GOING TO TAKE HIM FROM HIM.

LIKE HELL!!

….

….Though…would Tom be happier with a bass playing barista??

All at once, Tord found himself skidding to an abrupt halt, his boots squeaked loudly at his sudden cease of motion, the momentum nearly making him fall flat to his face if he hadn’t caught himself on time.

Tord clasped his hands together, his eye staring at nothing as he began to think deeper about- a frankly goofy- the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he even deserved his beloved at this point, seeing as he spent a week practically acting as though Thomas didn’t even exist.

If he could stand to ignore his husband for a week in favor of accounting, what if he could do it for a month?? A year?? Hell YEARS?!

That didn’t sound like love.

What if Tom would be happy with barista bass player real man??

Tord’s overworked, over exhausted, and sleep deprived mind ran around him in circles.

He felt himself began to tear up.

Oh GOD, after he had promised his Thomas on the day they were married, after he had promised him he was a changed man, that he was going to be better, that he well and truly loved him, that he was so sorry for all the years and all the times he had made him cry, how he was so so sorry for ruining their lives when he left him behind, how he- Huh, wait why is Thomas’ office lights still on??

Tord blinked rapidly, coming back to himself as quick as his spiraling mind could allow. He straightened himself up and tilted his head at the sight before him.

Up ahead, at the end of the hall opposite of his own office, the doors to his beloved’s office were opened just a crack, letting the warm light from within spill out into the semi-shadowed hallway he was standing in. Thomas was never one to leave his lights on when he had gone home, even more so keep his doors open, his husband had always liked his privacy, so his office doors were always closed to everyone but Tord, as he also had a key to it anyway.

Frowning, Tord slowly approached the office doors, his hand carefully inched down to the pistol holster at his side, just in case.

Once he reached the dark wood double doors, Tord carefully pushed one of them open just a little more. He evened out his breathing as he took a peek into the office, because if some intruder thought they could just waltz into his beloved’s space, well, they would wish that they hadn’t.

Part of him hoped it was a bass playing barista, somehow.

What he saw however, instantly melted any of his aggression away.

There, reclined on his chair and sleeping soundly, was his beloved husband, Tom.

Tord felt himself smile softly as he fully opened the door, careful not to make any sound as he stepped into the room.

Thomas’ office was much smaller than his own, which was really just at the behest of his beloved. Tom claimed that he didn’t even know what he’d do with so much space, seeing as most of his duties and operations were focused on field work more than anything, and when he had no active operations, he’d spend more time in Tord’s office to help him handle logistics at HQ. So really, even having his own office didn’t seem all too practical anyway.

Which Tord swiftly dismissed, saying that he had to have a place where he could posture his authority, seeing as he was a Lieutenant General of the RA (and unofficially its Army Director). Plus….well, they could use the extra space for other things….

Tom had slapped him on the arm for suggesting that, calling him a ‘depraved weaboo’ for even thinking about it.

Well, what does that say about him? When he let Tord bring a couch that could convert into a bed into his office without a single word?

Yeah, Tom needed his own office. For sure. Not for any ulterior reason of course. Like he said, it was to posture authority. Yep.

Tord passed by the couch and gave it a fond pat as he did so.

He circled Tom’s desk and immediately made his way to his beloved’s side, his gaze softened as he leaned down to get closer to his husband. Tord chuckled as he brushed at the stray lock of hair that refused to be gelled out of Tom’s face like the rest of them, his husband was annoyed by it but Tord thought it was cute.

He sighed as he cupped the side of Tom’s face, but the smile on his own dropped when he noticed the blinking lights on Tom’s visor.

Was….was Tom in subcon-command?!

HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN?!

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord took his husband’s face in his hands, lightly slapping at his left cheek as his right hand took in his vitals. “Kjaerlighet!! Tom!! Thomas!!” His right arm beeped and gave him a readout of Tom’s vitals through a holo-screen. Tord’s eye snapped to the data, quickly taking in the status of his idiot husband, thankfully nothing seemed to be amiss aside from the usual high brain activity that came from being in sub-com.

Tord blew out a frustrated breath and turned back to his still dozing husband, he pressed a finger from his robotic hand to the side of Tom’s visor. The action caused Tom’s head to roll a little to the side, causing the other to mumble something Tord didn’t hear, but it did make him smile in exasperation. “R.L. OV3 3447-Alpha.” A series of robotic chirps responded to his code, accepting his override access. Tord placed his free hand to the other side of Tom’s head as he prepared to remove the visor from his husband.

“39-Lima-550-“

“TT3 SL-Delta.”

“YEAOW!” Tord reeled back, shaking both his hands, as a controlled shocked coursed up his arms. The fingers on his robotic arm spasmed and whined, while his flesh hand smoked due to his glove still being on when he had been electrocuted. He huffed and bit at the singed finger of his white glove, he pulled it off his hand and let it fall to the ground before turning an incredulous, wide-eyed look, at Tom. Who, at this point, had reset his chair so he could sit upright, his arms had crossed as he looked at Tord.

“Kjaerlighet!” Tord meant for it to be scolding, but instead it came out as a whine when Tom tilted his head at him. God help him. He was so weak to his husband. “What was that for?! I know you were subcomming! You know how dangerous that feature is! Didn’t I tell you not to do it without me, Bing, or Larry present?!”

“I don’t need babysitting, Tord. I know what I was doing.” Tom sighed as he propped an arm against the desk beside him, he leaned his head against his palm. “Besides, I wasn’t sub-com for that long, it’s only been a quarter of an hour actually.”

“Still!” Tord strode forward once his robotic hand stopped twitching, he knelt in front of his husband as Tom let him take his free hand into his own. “You know how I feel about you doing these things, kjaere. The sub-com system is still experimental, the mental stress it causes you is too much.” He brought his husband’s hand to his lips, just pressing against it, mumbling into the skin. “I’m scared that something could happen to you…while I’m not there…”

“Tord….” Tom squirmed on his seat as he looked down at his husband. He had wanted to deflect, sometimes Tord was just too overbearing, too overprotective of him, but it was difficult when Tord was being vulnerable with him. Sure, his husband was a paranoid bastard, but it was born from years of his time at war with the rest of the world, born from his fear of…well….losing him.

Its so unfair, it used to be so easy to jab back at his husband.

…Maybe he really was getting old, hell….

Tom sighed and took his hand back from Tord, the split second look of heartbreak on the other’s face quickly disappearing once he settled his hand to the side of Tord’s face. “Elskede, look, I really did know what I was doing, but I didn’t mean to scare you like this. I was only trying to oversee the night watch while you were still at work, and I just…” As if on cue, Tom yawned into his other hand, “I just..got tired…is all. I thought I could let my body rest while still overseeing night watch, which, ugh, wasn’t even worth it. I still feel like shit….”

“Well, why are you even here, kjaere??”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tom gestured at him from top to bottom with his free hand. “You, Tord. You’ve been overworking lately, Paul has been complaining about your hours instead of his own. Patryck is becoming concerned with your mental state, he says you’ve been jumpier than usual.”

Tord felt his heart sting when Tom let out another yawn.

Patient two. His husband was patient two.

As if he didn’t feel bad enough about neglecting his love….now he dragged him into this.

“God, fifteen minutes sub-com but not even that made me feel rested.”

Swallowing his guilt, Tord chuckled, albeit shakily. “Your brain activity is insanely high when you sub-com, Thomas.” Tord rested his hand on top of Tom’s own on his cheek as he looked up at him. “Of course you would still be tired, Bing didn’t invent it for napping while working purposes you know?” He chuckled again as Tom huffed. “It’s an emergency feature, in case someone manages to knock you out in the field, so you can take control of the remote weaponry to defend yourself.”

“Yeah yeah, couldn’t hurt to try though, right?”

“Thomas you could have fried your brain, it would have hurt to try.”

“You’d never let me get hurt like that though.”

Tom meant it to be teasing, but Tord only smiled up at him, adoration plain on his face as he leaned up into his husband’s space. Tom was caught off guard when Tord suddenly went in for a kiss, pushing him back against his chair in the process as his husband moved to deepen it. It wasn’t even much of a dirty kiss, it simply felt as though Tord was trying to press as close as he could, still, by the end of it, Tom felt a little lightheaded as Tord pulled back, he was a little ashamed to admit that he chased the other’s lips when he did.

Tord rested their foreheads together and caressed the side of his face, still smiling.

“Never. I would never let anything hurt you, my love.”

Tom’s heart skipped a beat at the tone of his voice. He felt his face heat up. Stupid Norwegian and his stupid declarations of love…

“Yeah, well…cool, I guess…” Tom had turned his head to the side as his embarrassment reached a new high. Even after all these years, he still wasn’t sure how to respond to Tord’s earnestness, he felt really shitty for it, but Tord had always reassured him that he knew that he loved him, because of course his husband would. Tord just seems to know the things Tom could never say outright.

He glanced back at his husband, though he didn’t move his head back.

And found Tord looking absolutely shattered.

…huh???

(Well, maybe SOMETIMES he doesn’t know the things Tom could never say outright.)

“Tord-?”

“I am so sorry, kjaerlighet.” Tom ‘blinked’ in surprise, the visuals in his visor glitching out in response to his emotional state. He furrowed his brows and squeaked when Tord suddenly took both his hands and clasped them together within his own. The Norwegian leaned further into his face, disappointingly not for another kiss, causing his chair to lean backwards into a dangerous position.

“Aye-! Hey! Tord you’ll make us fall-!”

“Please please PLEASE forgive me my love!!” Tord wailed as he continued to lean into Tom’s space. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this week!! I didn’t mean to be such an asshole!! PLEASE forgive me kjaerlighet!”

“Hey! Shh! Tord! We’re in public! Don’t be so loud!! Don’t call me that!”

Tom switched his visor into his command screens and immediately selected the base cameras. He flicked through the cams until he found the main HQ building cameras, more specifically the ones that were stationed outside his office as well as the general area radius of Tord’s own office. Thankfully, none of the staff had decided to hang back like the two of them had, even maintenance had made themselves scarce. And what night guards they had wouldn’t make their rounds here until after 3 a.m. so for now they were in the clear.

He sighed in relief and relegated the cams footage to the lower right corner side of his visor screen.

Only to come face to face with a teary eyed looking Tord who took up his entire vision.

“Bwah! Tord-!”

“I AM SO SORRY, THOMAS!!” Tom instantly found himself gathered up into his husband’s arms and out of his office chair. He wheezed and choked as Tord squeezed him close as he sobbed. “PLEASE PLEASE P L E A S E DON’T LEAVE ME! MY LOVE I AM SO SORRY FOR NEGLECTING YOU!! PLEASE LET ME STILL CALL YOU MY LOVE!! PLEASE!! YOU ARE STILL MY KJAERLIGHET RIGHT?!”

“To-AUGH!- ORD!!” Tom gasped out as he pushed against his husband’s hold. “Not…the….point!!” He managed to put a little bit of space between them, his legs kicking uselessly below him the moment Tord lifted him up. He glared down at his stupid idiot of a husband who only returned a kicked puppy look at him, Tom took in a deep breath and internally braced himself against Tord’s pleading look. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband. He is not THAT weak to his husband-

“We’re in public idiot!” Tom slapped him lightly on the chest. “I was okay with it when your voice was low, but you are screaming it out now!”

“The offices are soundproof!”

“YOU DENSE-! My doors are open, Tord!!”

Tom gestured stiffly at the double doors which Tord had failed to shut closed when he first came in. Tord looked over to the side, he thinned his lips.

“…Ah…..”

“Yeah, ‘Ah’. God you’re daft when you don’t get enough sleep..” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “For your information, before you start panicking, I checked the cams. No staff. No maintenance. Night guards won’t make their rounds here till three.” Tom huffed when Tord pulled his wide eyed gaze away from the open doors.

Tom hooked his fingers under Tord’s chin, gently coaxing the man to look up at him. “Hey, eyes on me.” He sighed at the look on his husband’s face, most likely he was just starting to realize the danger he could have put them into now that he seemed to be thinking straight. Tom cooed at him, gently brushing at the hair that fell over the scarred side of his face.

“Elskede, we’re alright, be calm.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m here.” He kissed his cheek. “You’re here.” He kissed the scarred side of his face. “There’s no one else but us.” Tord shut his eye in response, allowing Tom to kiss his eyelid as his husband hugged him closer, leaning his ear against his chest. Tom carded his fingers through his hair. “What can you hear?”

“….Your heart…”

“And why is that?”

“…Because we’re here….because you’re mine…”

“And you are mine.” Tom finished as he felt Tord begin to relax. His husband shifted his hold on him, carrying him bridal style but still refusing to relax his grip, burying his face into his neck as he breathed in slow. Tom laughed lightly at the action, continuing his previous ministrations on Tord’s hair. “..What’s this about neglect Tord? What brought this on??”

“…….” Tord sniffled against his skin. Tom had to stop himself from chuckling. His husband could just be so goofy at times, he really had to talk to him about his habit of scaring himself with his own thoughts, or better yet, maybe he should talk to his therapist about his husband’s self-destructive habit. “….I wasn’t….around…”

“I’m sorry love?”

“I haven’t….I haven’t been good to you…”

Now it was Tom’s turn to feel incredulous, he sent a baffled look his husband’s way, but Tord was still hiding his face against his neck so he wouldn’t be able to see it. “You haven’t-? In what way have you not been good to me?”

“I neglected you this week!” Tord admitted into his skin, with just so much genuine panic it almost sent Tom reeling. “I prioritized my work over my husband! I brushed you off!! I was being an absentee asshole and now you’re going to fall out of love with me and- and you’ll go to a coffee shop because I haven’t found any good coffee yet and you’ll meet a barista and he plays bass and makes you laugh and then you’ll divorcemebecauseyoudontlovemeandthenyou’llmarrybassbaristaandhavekidswithhimandI’MgonnadiealoneBECAUSEI’LLNEVERLOVEANYONEELSEBUTYOU-“

“Hey hey hey! Tord breathe! What??? Coffee shop?? Bass barista????? Darling what are you talking about????”

“I left you all on your OWN for an ENTIRE WEEK!” Tord looked up at his face, the sheer anguish on his face more comical than not to Tom who was starting to find the whole situation too outlandish to take seriously. “I don’t even say ‘I love you’ that much anymore!!”

Tom looked down at his husband, his mouth partway open in disbelief and shock. He floundered a bit, before he gave up and let his head fall into his hands. “Oh my god….Tord Larsin, never EVER try to burn the midnight oil for multiple days, ever again starting now.” He felt his own exhaustion start creeping into his bones, he let himself go limp as he leaned against his husband’s chest. “You and I are not as young as we used to be, at this point, if you try to even stay up past 8 p.m., I’m pretty sure you’ll start getting brain damage.”

“But- kjaere- the barista.”

“Tord.” Tom gritted out, instantly making Tord shut his mouth. “You’re delirious, you haven’t been sleeping well. You just made up a wacky arse scenario that is never going to happen.” Tom tiredly pulled at his left glove, he tucked it into his pocket and brought his hand up to Tord’s face. “See that ring? I married you you dense motherfucker, and god knows why I fell in love with you this hard,” He let his hand fall on top of his abdomen once he was sure he got his point across. “Fact of the matter is, commie, I’m not going anywhere. I’m just so disgustingly in love with you for some reason I can’t even explain.”

Tom nuzzled himself closer to his husband, who had gone unnaturally still. “So shut up already about this barista or whatever and just take me home….I’m tired, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to collapse so remember,” Tom lifted his head to stare into Tord’s eye, only smirking when he saw how red in the face his husband had become. “I love you, that isn’t changing any time soon. Okay?”

Tord only stared at him silently for a moment, before he leaned down, lifting Tom’s head up in tandem, and capturing his lips in a deep, swooping kiss, pouring every ounce of love and adoration he could muster for the man in his arms. The man he had been so lucky to have a chance to keep for himself, to hold close and listen to his heart, to keep by his side for the rest of his life. Someone who could love him for all his flaws, had seen his worst, and still decided that he saw something beautiful in him.

His kjaerlighet.

“I love you, so so much….”

“I love you too. Could we please go home now?”

Tord laughed quietly, subtly adjusting his grip once more before moving to exit the office. “Go to sleep, kjaere.” He pressed their foreheads together as they passed the threshold of the doors. “I’ll get us home safe. I promise nothing will hurt you.”

Tom smiled as he settled in Tord’s arms.

“I know.”

////

GET PERCIEVED YOU LOVESTRUCK IDIOT

#tomtord #tordtom #eddsworld fanfiction #ew Stay AU #didn't go the way I wanted but then again #they have their own personalities #SLKDFJ #ew Stay AU writings #soz if there's some typos #I did this in a rush

61 notes · View notes

maeshelix · 12 days

Note

HI HI... it's Leolithe here! FINALLY INTERACTING. I see you in the notes of my Lotus posts and i am DEATHLY curious to know your opinions on the Lotus system! Both as characters in general and also what you'd love and/or hate to see in their story. The idea of a Sentient AI mimic who is a system is so incredible to me, but I wonder if there's anything about Natah, Lotus or Margulis you would change?

Also, how many of you have played Warframe? Has everyone tried it or is it just not everyone's cup of tea? Should I direct my questions to specific people in the system? I'd love to hear more Lotus thoughts!! :3

Before we respond, here's a message from Rokoko:

LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOUR ART IS SO GOOOOOOOOOOOOD AND YOURE SO RIGHT ABOUT THE LOTUS OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG AAAAAAAAAAAAH 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃💃

Now, to answer your questions. I'll start with the last ones.

We've all played Warframe, and each have found something to enjoy in it.

We used to play it on the Switch, long before we found out we're we. Eventually stopped for reasons I can't remember. Probably because it was Warframe on the Switch. Lmao.

Recently ported our account to PC, which has been nice. Caught up on everything, so now we're just taking turns making frames and enjoying the loop. Learning how to mod. Deep in the grind. Ignoring rivens cause they scare us. The usual, I'm sure. Lmao.

Asking specific members for their opinions is fine. Just will take longer to get answered. Unless you're lucky. We can't really control who fronts, unfortunately. But you can still do it, if you're curious about one of us. They'll definitely appreciate the attention. Probably. Lmao.

On the Lotus, we absolutely love her. Love all three of them.

Zero loves Lotus and Natah the most. She's an AI, so she relates to their struggles, but we are all enamored with them.

Marguils' resolve, Natah's tenacity, Lotus' deducation. Their histories with Ballas. Their histories with the Orokin in general. Their histories with eachother. With Marguils' memory, her legacy, before she came back. Their love for the Tenno. Their children. Their dedication to protecting the origin system.

All three are amazing. Their plurality is very interesting, originally being a synthetic mimic with two different sets of memories in them. Eventually culminating in three different entities in one. It's unique and engaging.

Our favorite characters in Warframe, to be sure. They're amazing.

We'd love to seem their plurality be more noticable, in the future. We're all in on them being plural, but it is admittedly easy to miss. A line of dialogue unheard, a helmet left uninteracted, a line of text left unread, and you're probably not gonna know they're plural. We want them to start bickering during a mission. We want Lotus to be explaining something, ony the go silent for a time, then for Natah or Marguils to take over. We want some way to talk to them outside of missions, for character moments.

I don't know how likely any of these will be, personally. But we'd like to see them.

That's also what we'd change, honestly. The inability to change between the three was annoying, so we'd remove that from The New War. Or add a fourth option of "take turns". We want to see them interact. We want a blatenly in-your-face system.

We'd hate for Natah and Marguils to be forgotten, eventaully. For Lotus to be considered the default. For some convoluted story beat to fuse them all into one mind, as is annoyingly common in system stories. Since that's the only good end singlets can imagine for a system. Natah and Marguils getting forgotten would be disappointing and annoying, but if they all fused into one we'd probably drop Warframe immediately.

Hope these answers are good @leolithe. Don't know if I did a good job of expressing our love for this system but, we do truly love them. Thank you for the question.

#warframe #warframe lotus #warframe natah #warframe marguils #F.E.#with special guest appearance:#-Rokoko

8 notes · View notes

babybluebanshee · 2 months

Text

Stuff I've Had to Deal With as a City Librarian - Plus Ultra Edition

Been a while, huh? Have some public library nonsense!

TW for racism and bodily fluids.

Julie found a half-used tube of toothpaste in the computer lab. Just chilling by one of the computers.

Lori had to fish a pair of shitty underwear out of a toilet in the men's room.

We'd been trying to convince the children's librarian to stop using liquid glue for her various kids' craft projects or on the craft table. Two incidents finally lead to her doing this. First a lady put her purse on the craft table to tie her shoe. She set it directly in an enormous puddle of glue a kid had left behind. Then second was a kid getting glue on the bottom of his shoe after story time and tracking it everywhere. She's since switched to glue sticks and everyone is much happier.

When people lose books, they have to pay for them, and if they find the books, they can either bring them back to us (and get a refund if they bring them within a year) or keep them. A lady came in and said she lost some books and was ready for them. I check her card so I can see what she has and write them up, and she, totally unprompted says, "Yeah, I know where they are, they're just massively overdue and buying them outright would be cheaper than paying the fines." I told her she couldn't do that; if she still has the items and they aren't damaged, we would like to have our materials back so we don't have to spend any money getting replacements. She replies, "But why can't I just buy them?" It took every ounce of resistance in my body to tell her that we're not a bookstore, she has to bring the goddamn things back, that's how libraries work.

We caught a guy shaving in the lab. He didn't seem to find this strange at all, and when we asked why he didn't just go in the bathroom, he replied he didn't know he could do it there. And your first thought was not to ask, but to do it in our computer lab?!

One of my coworkers checked the cafe and found a guy sleeping. The city has been riding us not to let people do that, but we generally just kind of shake them a little, remind them they can't sleep there, then let them immediately go back to sleep when we walk away. We generally don't care. But when my coworker tried to stir this guy, he didn't move. Shook him by the shoulder. Nothing. Nearly shouted. Nary a stir. The way the dude is sitting makes it hard to see if he's breathing, so she starts to get concerned. She goes back to the desk and tells Julie what's going on; Julie tries to rouse him, doesn't succeed. They ended up having to call the police for a wellness check, because they were genuinely starting to get concerned for the guy's safety. The cop finally managed to wake him up, and it turns out the dude was fine. He's apparently just a very heavy sleeper.

We had a bad ice storm one day, so the library didn't open. Rachel checked the messages the next day when we reopened, and a woman called three times in a row to ask why we weren't open, she tried the doors and they didn't work, we're supposed to be open, why aren't we open, all with increasing frantic tone. In one call you could hear her yanking on the doors.

A patron parked outside called us and said that there was a woman in the parking lot writing down people's license plate numbers. Travis had to call the police (protocol for "suspicious behavior"). Turns out the police are well aware of this woman's antics all around town, to the point where it's a city effort to get her some help with what is clearly unchecked mental illness. A week later, the same woman got in trouble in the Walmart parking lot, doing the same nonsense, and calling the woman who caught her a human trafficker.

Someone opened and ate a can of chicken in the men's bathroom, though they couldn't have eaten much because most of it seemed to be on the floor. Poor Becky and Sam had to clean it up. The smell alone was horrible.

A man couldn't get into his gmail account, so I went over to help him. It turned out he had two-factor authentication set up, so it was trying to send a code to his phone. He refused to confirm his phone number because "I don't want these people tracking me". I had to fight the urge to laugh in his face, because he simply would not accept that he had to do that in order to get into his gmail, and the absolute irony of not wanting to be tracked while using motherfucking Google's email service.

A girl and her grandmother came in, and the girl forgot her library card. Grandma was fully prepared to check out the book she wanted...until she saw it was a book about Ted Bundy. She proceeded to go on a hellfire and brimstone rant about how the book was Satanic and she shouldn't have even touched it. She kept looking to my poor coworker for support her, and you could just tell that my coworker wanted to just fade away into the chair she was sitting in.

One night, I found an abandoned pair of shorts in the men's bathroom. Julie found a pair of sunglasses in the cafe, and Macey found a travel coffee mug (coffee still in it) in one of the study rooms. Tit's out kind of outfit.

A guy ate absolute shit on his motorized scooter on the sidewalk outside the library. Donna had to call 911, but the guy refused to go to the hospital because he couldn't afford it, no matter how worried the EMTs were about the bleeding gash on his forehead or the possibility of a concussion. Hope he'll be alright. And that's why we always wear our helmets, kids.

A woman came in at 8:47 (we close at 9) and had Rachel make 89 copies of her handwritten conspiracy theory journal. The lady had called in advance to check when we closed, and still came in that close to closing with her bullshit, and tried to stay after they were finished. Luckily, she was chased out.

Donna, Julie, and Rachel were leaving for the evening, and someone pulled up, opened their car door, yelled the n-word, and drove off. All three of those women are white as the driven snow.

The city sets up a ceramic Christmas village display in our rotunda area every year, and this year, Lori decided to have fun with it. She put a little plastic alien and dragon somewhere in the village, and anyone who found them got a sticker. Obviously, kids were really into it, but the adults were even more so. You've never seen so many people over forty excitedly looking for little plastic toys before.

A absolutely gorgeous woman in the most beautiful African dress came in and asked to use a computer. When I told her how to log on, she said "Thank you, my love." and floated off. Her perfume made me feel a way.

#daily life with blue #woe to the librarian

7 notes · View notes

drbased · 7 months

Text

On Religious Morality

The religious conservative argument of 'if god doesn't exist, it's not morally wrong to kill people' is emblematic of the symbolic approach to life, the universe and everything: that there is a 'layer' on top of reality that is realer than the reality that we live in. Under a religious and spiritual framework, human - or even animal - emotions and achievement are not worth anything inherently because of their existence, but rather they are imbued meaning through an abstract connective tissue, and only once the 'bigger picture' is found are any of the constituent parts worth anything. There has to be a larger narrative of greater importance, something bigger and inexplicably more profound than the inherent existence of reality itself.

You could perhaps say that it's a cowardly approach to existence: one that shies away from the awe-inspiring inexplicableness of the reality of there being things in the world, that got there entirely without the need for meaning (that got there entirely without being connected to you via meaning that you can comprehend), that exist purely because of the terrifying nature of cause and effect, that simply are. Similarly so, there does not need to be some greater, deeper meaning to emotion that you must be privy to, that you must understand, for it to have intrinsic worth. Suffering feels bad for the sufferer, and if you can understand that with your heart and brain, then it is you that imbues a 'moral' quality to it, and it's up to you to care and give it worth and meaning. That's beautiful in its own right - once again, the inherent 'worth' is the essence of your own choice to care about suffering.

Religious and spiritual thought feels as though it's humble, that it's in touch with the profound. But in many ways, it's actually staring slightly to the left of the profound, and it recreates humility into something where you, a mere alive being amongst many with a body and brain borne out of evolution just like everyone else, are somehow imbued with a deep and fundamental profound connection to everything within the universe, giving you a unique importance within it. The humility, then, comes from the holding of you in a permanent state of arrested development; children are told that stealing is bad and sharing is good, and they just are that way according to forces of morality that you are not privy to but must be true. As a full-grown adult it is hard to accept full responsibility for our actions, and nobody (including me) ever fully does; every person in the world effortlessly switches between 'I have free will' and 'I was raised that way' in order to suit their needs, and it seems to be a necessary part of the human psyche to be able to do so successfully. However, religion and spiritual thought takes that element of avoidng accountability to the nth degree, where you no longer have to even be accountable for a full understanding of morality itself. Instead, you merely follow and arbitrary set of rules and call that humility. As if there's nothing more humble than recognising that there are no rules to follow and it's up to you to recognise show compassion for suffering, not because of some grand purpose but rather because suffering exists.

Religious and spiritual thought will tell you things like 'God's plan' and 'everything happens for a reason' to justify real-world suffering, but also will tell you that it's unilaterally wrong for you, personally to commit an act of lust, for example. This arbitrary application of morality is ripe for exploitation, for not only does it generate an 'opiate of the masses' effect, but also it allows for the individual to feel a heightened sense of entitlement over their own moral choices. Anything the believer feels morally strong about is 'right' because rightness is about certainty - if nothing is important because of its inherent essence, if the only reality that matters is bigger and more nebulous than the reality that we live in, then faith (i.e. certainty) is the only access to morality that we even have. Hence, religious people are much, much more strong on subjects that have no real impact on suffering in the real world. To them, spiritual suffering is the only real suffering. The suffering we actually feel is no different than the irritation a child feels when they're being told off for not sharing. This further feeds into that state of permanent childishness, and the believer's strong devotion to 'moral' causes that have no material impact on the world, and conversely limited devotion to concern for real-world suffering, can be effortlessly manipulated so they become pawns in support of oppressive systems, allowing power to adapt to changing societal trends.

An approach to morality that presupposes some inherency to morality also presupposes that said inherency is necessarily fluid - for the inherency is without any basis in material reality. The fact of the matter is that 'morality' is not a real concept; it is a desire to conceptualise and classify a collection of human responses to suffering such as sympathy, empathy and guilt - all emotions that we understand to be highly beneficial for an adaptive social species. These emotions feel profound, and it is important to remember that they are profound! They're something that seems impossible on the face of it: an individual living being has something akin to understanding what's going on inside the mind and body of another living being, and potentially even feeling what they feel. That is profound, that is terrifying, that is the closest we have to magic in this life! It's important to remember that when you're upset about someone else's suffering, you are upset because they're suffering. That's what empathy is - in its entirety. That's what's important.

Symbolic narratives will tug you in the direction of 'o! what a terrible dark and evil world we live in, struck with suffering, I must cry for a million years' or 'that person must Deserve their suffering, for God makes sure that all get what is coming to them' or 'what a shame they're suffering, but everything happens for a reason and things will work out well for them in the end'. Do not be fooled, none of these thought patterns are more profound, none of them are more 'in touch' with the fundamental nature of things, none of these demonstrate some higher empathy or understanding. These are distractions designed to dull your empathy towards suffering. Of course, we all need to dull our empathy towards suffering to some extent because there is just so much of it in the world (and we need to accept that certain suffering needs to exist, for real achievement is borne out of difficulty - but that's an ongoing conversation that needs to be had), but I argue that it needs to be a fully-informed choice you need to make as a responsible, accountable adult. The people who achieve the most are the ones who pick a passion and make the world a better place in their small corner of it. Ultimately, you do yourself a disservice by disconnecting yourself from the true beauty of human-generated meaning and compassion, and you do others a disservice by decreasing your empathy to their suffering, by viewing morality as something bigger than your own human choice to care about things in the real world.

#my writing #symbolic states

15 notes · View notes