#what is yes bank crisis
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The CFPB is genuinely making America better, and they're going HARD
On June 20, I'm keynoting the LOCUS AWARDS in OAKLAND.
Let's take a sec here and notice something genuinely great happening in the US government: the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau's stunning, unbroken streak of major, muscular victories over the forces of corporate corruption, with the backing of the Supreme Court (yes, that Supreme Court), and which is only speeding up!
A little background. The CFPB was created in 2010. It was Elizabeth Warren's brainchild, an institution that was supposed to regulate finance from the perspective of the American public, not the American finance sector. Rather than fighting to "stabilize" the financial sector (the mission that led to Obama taking his advisor Timothy Geithner's advice to permit the foreclosure crisis to continue in order to "foam the runways" for the banks), the Bureau would fight to defend us from bankers.
The CFPB got off to a rocky start, with challenges to the unique system of long-term leadership appointments meant to depoliticize the office, as well as the sudden resignation of its inaugural boss, who broke his promise to see his term through in order to launch an unsuccessful bid for political office.
But after the 2020 election, the Bureau came into its own, when Biden poached Rohit Chopra from the FTC and put him in charge. Chopra went on a tear, taking on landlords who violated the covid eviction moratorium:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/20/euthanize-rentier-enablers/#cfpb
Then banning payday lenders' scummiest tactics:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/29/planned-obsolescence/#academic-fraud
Then striking at one of fintech's most predatory grifts, the "earned wage access" hustle:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/01/usury/#tech-exceptionalism
Then closing the loophole that let credit reporting bureaus (like Equifax, who doxed every single American in a spectacular 2019 breach) avoid regulation by creating data brokerage divisions and claiming they weren't part of the regulated activity of credit reporting:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does
Chopra went on to promise to ban data-brokers altogether:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/13/goulash/#material-misstatement
Then he banned comparison shopping sites where you go to find the best bank accounts and credit cards from accepting bribes and putting more expensive options at the top of the list. Instead, he's requiring banks to send the CFPB regular, accurate lists of all their charges, and standing up a federal operated comparison shopping site that gives only accurate and honest rankings. Finally, he's made an interoperability rule requiring banks to let you transfer to another institution with one click, just like you change phone carriers. That means you can search an honest site to find the best deal on your banking, and then, with a single click, transfer your accounts, your account history, your payees, and all your other banking data to that new bank:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/21/let-my-dollars-go/#personal-financial-data-rights
Somewhere in there, big business got scared. They cooked up a legal theory declaring the CFPB's funding mechanism to be unconstitutional and got the case fast-tracked to the Supreme Court, in a bid to put Chopra and the CFPB permanently out of business. Instead, the Supremes – these Supremes! – upheld the CFPB's funding mechanism in a 7-2 ruling:
https://www.scotusblog.com/2024/05/supreme-court-lets-cfpb-funding-stand/
That ruling was a starter pistol for Chopra and the Bureau. Maybe it seemed like they were taking big swings before, but it turns out all that was just a warmup. Last week on The American Prospect, Robert Kuttner rounded up all the stuff the Bureau is kicking off:
https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2024-06-07-window-on-corporate-deceptions/
First: regulating Buy Now, Pay Later companies (think: Klarna) as credit-card companies, with all the requirements for disclosure and interest rate caps dictated by the Truth In Lending Act:
https://www.skadden.com/insights/publications/2024/06/cfpb-applies-credit-card-rules
Next: creating a registry of habitual corporate criminals. This rogues gallery will make it harder for other agencies – like the DOJ – and state Attorneys General to offer bullshit "delayed prosecution agreements" to companies that compulsively rip us off:
https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-creates-registry-to-detect-corporate-repeat-offenders/
Then there's the rule against "fine print deception" – which is when the fine print in a contract lies to you about your rights, like when a mortgage lender forces you waive a right you can't actually waive, or car lenders that make you waive your bankruptcy rights, which, again, you can't waive:
https://www.consumerfinance.gov/about-us/newsroom/cfpb-warns-against-deception-in-contract-fine-print/
As Kuttner writes, the common thread running through all these orders is that they ban deceptive practices – they make it illegal for companies to steal from us by lying to us. Especially in these dying days of class action suits – rapidly becoming obsolete thanks to "mandatory arbitration waivers" that make you sign away your right to join a class action – agencies like the CFPB are our only hope of punishing companies that lie to us to steal from us.
There's a lot of bad stuff going on in the world right now, and much of it – including an active genocide – is coming from the Biden White House.
But there are people in the Biden Administration who care about the American people and who are effective and committed fighters who have our back. What's more, they're winning. That doesn't make all the bad news go away, but sometimes it feels good to take a moment and take the W.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/10/getting-things-done/#deliverism
#pluralistic#cfpb#consumer finance protection board#rohit chopra#scotus#bnpl#buy now pay later#repeat corporate offenders#fine print deception#whistleblowing#elizabeth warren
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TOL - I’m your daddy now (1) - Lloyd Hansen
Summary: You reached the end of the rope.
Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader
Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, Lloyd is an ass and boob enthusiast, mentions of sex for money, money trouble, mentions of cheating (her ex), groping, slight mommy kink (kinda, it's Lloyd)
A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It's the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine.
You reached the end of the rope.
With your three-year-old little boy depending on you, it’s not easy to face reality. In two weeks, you will have to leave your home. The bank will take the house, and even the wreck of a car you call your own.
Your deadbeat of a husband left you with nothing but debs and resentment for men. He’s out and about with a younger, prettier, and slimmer girl. – His words, not yours.
While you tried to save your marriage, he fucked some woman he met at a bar behind your back. You knew he was a sleazy and worthless bastard, but never expected him to turn his back on his son too.
It’s not that you didn’t try anything to make enough money to pay for the mortgage and feed your son. One too many nights you went to bed hungry, only lukewarm water in your belly to at least save enough money to buy food for your baby boy.
“Mommy,” your little boy yawns as he looks up at you. He holds out his chubby hands, whining because you don’t pick him up. You just look at him for a moment, feeling your heart chatter all over again.
“How could I ever fall for your father,” you sniffle when you pick your son up. You peck his cheek and sigh. “At least he gave me you. The only good thing coming out of this relationship.”
You nuzzle his cheek and try to ignore the ache in your chest, and your growling stomach. At least you got paid yesterday. It’s not enough to keep the house for another month, but you can get food on the table.
Whatever happens tomorrow, you don’t know. The website you found promised help in hopeless situations. You never know with the internet, but it’s your last resort.
If they don’t keep their promises, you’ll end up on the street with your son only because your husband ran off with all of your savings. He even stole the money your grandmother left you for desperate times.
“Hi, uh-I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I have an appointment,” you wring your hands while looking around the lobby of the building inheriting the company promising to save your home. The woman at the reception doesn’t even look your way. She huffs and lifts her perfectly manicured index finger to stop you from talking.
“I don’t think you are what we are looking for,” she snaps at you, and your heart sinks. You look down at your body, sighing deeply. The business outfit you are wearing is a tight fit. You gained weight during pregnancy you never got the chance to lose. “You should go home and bake cookies for your kid.”
She points her finger at the stain on your blouse, simply to embarrass you even more. Some women are like that. They try to feel better, or above you by making you feel small.
“Kiki, that is enough,” you flinch when a hand brushes over your ass. The man pats your cheeks, humming happily. “What do we have here?” He purrs and gropes one cheek. “A perfect plump ass.”
“Mr. Hansen, Sir,” the woman splutters. She looks like she saw a ghost, or worse, a monster wanting to eat her alive. “I told her that she doesn’t belong here.”
“Kiki, Kiki,” Hansen tuts while patting your ass. “I decide who belongs here.”
You don’t know what to do. Usually, you’d slap any guy trying to feel you up across the face or kick their balls. But this man could be your way out of your financial crisis.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Hansen but just look at her,” she squeaks, and points at you. “I don’t think any of our clients want something like this to fulfill their…”
“ENOUGH!” Hansen slams his fist onto the receptionist's desk, making Kiki flinch. “We never talk about our clients nor our employees in front of people outside of our organization. You are dismissed.”
“What?” She stares at Hansen in disbelief. “For today or…”
“Forever,” he huffs and turns around. The man brushes his index finger and thumb over his mustache and grins like he saw something he’d love to devour. You are afraid it’s you.
“I have an appointment,” you clear your throat and try to ignore your heart hammers in your chest. This man looks more like a wolf, with sharp teeth and glowing eyes, than a man.
“I know, sunshine,” he smirks and holds out his hand. “Please excuse my annoying assistant. She’s no longer working for me.”
You’d love to roll your eyes at the man in front of you. He’s one of the guys who believe you must immediately fall for his charm and non-existent manners.
“If you’d like to follow me inside my office, sugar plum,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders, and snickers, "we can talk about your problems and how to solve them.”
“So…” He plops down on a leather couch. He pats the seat next to him, but you prefer standing in the room. “What brings you here, sunshine. How can Lloyd help you?”
“I found your website while searching for a way to keep my house,” you lick your lips. You hate that you must talk about your situation with this man.
“Humor me,” he smirks and pats the seat again. “If you want me to help you, I want to know it all. From the beginning.”
He tilts his head and looks you up and down. “What do you want to know?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I came here, even though your offer sounded fishy. I reached the end of the rope.” You throw your hands up, and sniffle.
“Now, now. No tears in Lloyd Hansen’s office,” he gets up to march toward you. Lloyd cups your face and tilts your head. “I need to know every detail, sunshine. If you are lying, I’ll send you home with a slap to your plump ass.”
“Fine,” you snap at him and push against his chest. “Quit pro quo, Mr. Hansen. After I told you everything about my situation, I want the truth about your offer.”
“Be my guest,” he smirks darkly. “I hope you don’t pee your pants getting to know the truth.”
“I came this far,” you sniff, “you don’t scare me, Mr. Hansen. You’re not the first man wanting me to fail.”
“A cocky one, I see,” Lloyd says as he sits back down on the sofa. “Begin, then.”
“What do you want to know? That my deadbeat of a husband left me for some bitch he met at a bar?” You drop your bag onto his desk and take your jacket off. “Or that I must raise my three-year-old son without him because his dick was more important?”
You stride toward Lloyd and step between his legs. He looks up at you, amused as you cup your tits. “I will lose my house and my car. I don’t make enough money to keep the house. He stole the money I spared to give her a nice life.”
“I see,” he licks his lips. “I think you already got what I have to offer.” Lloyd tilts his head and smirks as you start to unbutton your blouse.
“You want me to fuck you, right? That’s all this is about,” you wrinkle your nose. “And I’ll get the money I need to keep my house.”
He grins now. “Sunshine, you didn’t get that this is about business. I’ll put you on my website and my clients can decide if they want to fuck you or not.”
“Oh…” You sigh deeply. “I guess this means there is no hope.” You turn around to grab your bag. “Sorry for wasting your time.”
“Sunshine, wait,” he’s on his feet before you can grab your jacket. “I didn’t say you can just leave. Don’t you want to end up getting fucked good by my clients?”
“Do you honestly believe I was waiting to get fucked by random douches,” you turn back around and slap Lloyd with your bag. “I came here to find help, not dick.”
His grin widens as you slap his chest, face, and shoulder with your bag. “Careful, sunshine. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up making me rock hard.”
“You’re disgusting,” you wrinkle your nose and cock a brow.
“Oh, mommy can get mad,” he purrs and roams your body with his eyes. “I bet you are a strict mommy, huh? Do you scold your baby boy?”
“No!” You snap at Lloyd. “Keep my son out of this!” You slap him with your bag again. “Never mention my kid again, you asshole!”
“I knew you were special, sunshine,” he chuckles and grabs your wrist to keep you from slapping him again. “A wildcat ready to scratch and bite me.”
“I’m a tiger mommy if you want to know,” you growl and snap your teeth at Lloyd when he tries to press his lips to yours. “I’ll do anything to protect my son.”
“Sunshine, you’ve got yourself a deal,” Lloyd drops his hands from your arms to grab your face again. This time he kisses you roughly. You bite his lower lip, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He greedily shoves his tongue inside your mouth, devouring your mouth. “I think you’ll make a grand-prime assistant slash sexy bunny for me…”
Part 2
#lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x you#traders of love#lloyd hansen x plussized!reader#plussized reader#lloyd hansen x y/n#I’m your daddy now (1)
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Request (only if you want to ofc): Can you write Leon Kennedy pulling you over but like instead of fining you he's like "I have another way of solving this debt of yours" *wink* *wink*
i love this request sm
ft. cop!leon x fem!reader
synopsis. officer kennedy is a very considerate man.
content. smut. 1.6k words. power imbalance, unprotected p in v, fingering, spanking, exhibitionism, use of the term 'sir'.
note. thank you for the request anon, i hope you enjoy! exams are almost over so i'll get to more of your requests soon <33
masterlist. inbox. comments & reblogs are highly appreciated !!
You watch the blue and red flash of the cop car through the side mirror of your vehicle. The God-awful siren screeching is enough to sour your already shitty mood.
Pulling over to the side of the road, you contemplate how to get your ass out of this problem. You couldn’t afford a ticket right now. Your student debt is enough of a financial crisis.
There’s a knock on the glass, and you roll your window down. You hoped the officer would understand your situation and give you a break.
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, ma’am?” A smooth yet authoritative voice questioned.
You always hated that question. How were you even supposed to answer it?
You finally glance up at the officer with an unamused look, noticing his pretty blue eyes trail along your body. He’s probably trying to figure out if you’re under the influence.
He notices your lack of response before continuing, “You were going a 100 in a 75. I’m going to have to–”
“C’mon, officer.” You cut off his statement with desperation, gripping the steering wheel in frustration. “There has to be another way. I- I can’t afford to pay off anything right now. I’ll do anything, I swear.”
It was your fault you got into this predicament, but you weren’t ready to accept that yet.
He's observing you again, weighing his options. He clicks his tongue but agrees.
“Anything? I think I have another way you can make up for it,” he says, a sly smirk on his lips.
“Really!? Thank you so much, sir!” You say excitedly, a smile blooming on your face. “What do you have in mind?”
“Would you mind exiting your car?”
You feel nervous but comply, stepping out of your car.
You stand tall, straightening your back as you look at the brooding officer. His eyes are on you again, but there’s something else in his gaze while he watches you from top to bottom. He takes in your outfit, the tight mini skirt and top that leaves little to the imagination.
You’re staring right back at him. You couldn’t deny that he looks attractive. The blue cotton shirt hugs his fit figure, and the blonde wisps of hair frame his gorgeous face. You always did like a man in uniform.
“So how will I avoid the dent in my bank account? Officer…” You trail on.
“Officer Leon Kennedy.” He says, stepping closer to you. “I’m gonna make sure you won’t be reckless on the road again.”
Your eyes widen slightly at the sudden proximity, but you don’t mind. You also don’t miss the look the officer gives you like you’re his favourite meal, ready to be ravaged.
“How are you gonna do that, Officer Kennedy?” You ask, looking up at him innocently, playing into it.
“I’m going to punish you. Is that okay with you, ma’am?”
Your face feels warm at his words, but you nod. The warmth moves through your body and to your core.
“You have to tell me, miss.” He softly grips your jaw, making you look up at him. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip. You can’t believe you’re about to fuck a police officer in public to avoid being fined.
“It's okay.” You manage to get out. He squeezes your cheeks, your lips jutting out.
“Sir or Officer Kennedy. You get that baby?” He states, letting go of your face when you mumbled a quiet yes, sir. You’re looking up at him again, awaiting what he will do next.
“Bend over, ma’am. Over the hood of your car.” He instructs you, his voice laced with authority, and your pussy pulses with need.
You’re quick to listen to his every word. On your elbows and palms, flat against the hood of your car, supporting your body weight. One of his hands rests on your hips while the other is trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He bunches the fabric up, and you gasp softly at the cold air nipping at your skin.
You hear a faint fuck not before both of his are on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh. His hand moves to your panties, and you’ve probably soaked through them. He presses his thick fingers on the dampened spot.
“I think you’re enjoying this punishment too much, baby.” He mutters, gliding his fingers along your panties, barely enough stimulation on your clit.
“Fuck, please,” you whine softly. Hands come into contact with the flesh of your ass with a loud sound, and a whimper softly escapes the back of your throat. The pain which resonates with the slap turns into pleasure, and you involuntarily squeeze your thighs together.
“Please, sir.” He mocks you as he soothes the tender area. You want to roll your eyes, but instead, you relent, repeating his words with need.
“I don’t know. Will you behave for me, miss?”
“Yes, sir.” You whine. “I– I’ll be good for you.”
You hear him chuckle behind you, but he pulls your panties to the side, marvelling at your dripping cunt. His digits glide along your drooling pussy, coating it in your slick. He pulls his fingers back, and you hear him sucking on them with a loud groan.
“You taste so good, ma’am.”
You don’t have time to appreciate his kind words before his fingers work on your throbbing clit. You gasp at the sudden attention, and Officer Kennedy takes an opportunity to push his finger inside you.
Loud whines leave you as you fall apart on the Officer’s finger. He adds another digit, pumping them into your pussy. His movements are deliberate, curling into your cunt as he tries to edge you, keeping you from coming.
“Good girls get to come,” he had said.
You’re so close to coming for what feel’s like the 10th time — he pulls away from you. You huff in annoyance.
There’s another slap on your raw ass, and you can’t help but moan. Each noise you make goes straight to Leon’s cock.
“Please, sir, fuck me.” You’re almost sobbing from being robbed of another orgasm. Your thigh’s trembling, and your lips quiver as you plead to the Officer.
“Only because you’ve been so good for me, baby.”
You hear the soft clicking of his belt as he unbuckles it and pushes his boxer down to expose his aching cock. You so badly want to turn your head back to look at it.
One of his hands is on the curve of your back, pushing you forward on the hood of your car as the other guides his dick along your slit, bumping your clit. The tip of his cock enters your cunt, and you whine aloud.
He’s slowly moving into your tight, huffing as he does so. He isn’t even entirely in, but he’s already stretching you wide.
He’s wholly inside of you, your ass flushed to his pelvis. His cock is so fat you wish you could’ve seen it before it's inside of you. You’re grateful he’s prepped you with his fingers despite the teasing.
He leans forward, your back pressed against his chest, and his breath fans your ear. You clench around him, and he groans.
He starts moving in and out of your sloppy pussy, and your arousal coats his cock with each movement. You push for hips back, eager to finally come.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when the tip of his cock kisses the spot that makes you see stars. Your moans grow in volume and amount.
“Sh– Shit. You want everyone to know how much of a slut you are, huh? How much you love to be fucked dumb by an officer?” He huffs into your ear, punctuating each word with the thrust of his hips.
You’re full-on sobbing due to the assaulting pace of his cock on your g-spot. He squeezes your hips roughly, letting out soft moans into your ear as the velvety walls of your cunt squeeze him tight.
You’re so close. The knot formed in your tummy is so tight, ready to snap.
“Can I come, sir?” You plead, teary-eyed. Your nails attempting to dig into the hood of your car. You hope it doesn't dent as he fucks you.
“Come, baby. Let everyone know who’s fucking you so good.” He groans. You know there isn’t anyone here for miles, but the thought still has you clenching around his cock.
Leon moves one of his hands to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bud. Your cunt gushes as you come undone, pulsing around his fat cock, which still persistently ruts into you.
“Where d’you want my cum, ma’am?” He pants. It now hits that he still doesn’t know your name. That doesn’t change the fact you want him to come in you.
“Come inside me, sir.”
You hear him gasp before he comes, spilling his hot seeds inside your tight cunt.
He pulls out of you, placing back your panties on and pulling your skirt down before fixing himself back into his pants.
With shaking legs, you turn around to face Officer Kennedy, his cum spilling from your panties and down your thighs. You look up at him through eyelashes, clumped together from tears. He holds you by your waist as you try to balance yourself.
His face is flushed pink, and the blonde wisps of hair stick to his sweat-slicked forehead. He clears his throat, continuing,
“I think you might have to pay an extra fine.”
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#resident evil#leon x reader#leon smut#resident evil smut#re4 smut#leon x you#leon kennedy x you#re4 x you#re4#re4 x reader#smut#✩‧₊˚ fics#✩‧₊˚ requests
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Let’s Fall Silent
He was created as a companion to a capricious dawn; rejected, he haunted the waters of Snezhnaya until he grew bored. Saved by a foolish inventor, he wonders if there is more to life than his rejected purpose.
Or: whatever happened to that merman Dottore segment?
Sequel to my fic, “Endless.”
RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. ON AO3 HERE.
Water rushed through his gills and oxygen flooded his system in steady, rolling waves. He didn’t need to breathe but yet his body seemed perfectly suited to do so, yearned to.
He looked down, the shining blue scales of his tail resembling stones he knew only in name and vague understanding. Knowledge that was not his but readily given, as if he’d already read ten thousand books. Webs between his fingers were gossamer thin and yet seemed to catch and push water as if made of the strongest steel blades.
His fingers looked as if he’d dipped them in the reflections of the night sky, scales shimmering and shifting with the light.
There was a weight on his right ear, a glass tube that seemed to contain a type of water. Touching it sent faint shockwaves through his fingers and head, voices echoing distantly.
He assessed his surroundings: a tall man with blue hair and a white coat, eyes hidden; a clear boundary between them; a flicker of sunset out of the corner of his eye. The creature titled its head, the fins on either side of his head flitting with the motion.
Creator. Right. His image was almost identical to the bipedal human before him. Intended for…
He turned his head, garnet eyes falling in the direction he felt another presence.
A flash of a memory—not his—told him everything.
Rejected without ever having a chance. The dawn would kill him for carrying out his purpose if he ever so much as approached her. Understandably so. Sensations welled up inside him, foreign and intruded upon, not his to feel. Although the man on the other side of the glass (yes, that was the word) had made him, he was nothing but a vessel for wish-fulfillment. A bridge built to cross a too-large gap.
His Creator was a curious man. Whether he wanted to see the dawn’s reaction to the addition to her tank or because he was too far along in the process to stop didn’t matter to the finned mirror image. The result was the same. The merman was awake and contained every awareness that already, the tides had changed.
An existential crisis was not on the agenda. There was still plenty more to do. An entire world outside of this tank. The dawn came from somewhere, of course, and water was the necessity for all life.
He swam, gauged how far to move his arms and the proper movements of his tail. Easy, fluid motions that allowed him to cut through water came from somewhere deeper than muscle memory. Base instinct left little room for error.
“Our observation time is short, Nadir. How do you feel?”
The voice did not vibrate the water in the same fashion other sounds did. The Creator’s mouth did not move as it did with her. It felt as if the words floated in his mind like driftwood waiting to be collected.
And what was it he was called? Nadir? He was named? Given an…identity?
He wracked his pre-filled memory banks. The merman held back the biting laugh that threatened his lungs for a moment. An amalgamation of both living creatures and he was named after the lowest point of the sun’s daily descent in the sky. Arguably, he was also the lowest point in his Creator’s infatuation, given her blatant rejection of his attempt to give her companionship.
The man stared, awaiting a response. His patience was thinning, lips pressed together.
“I am…fine. I experience no pain. I can see, hear, breathe, and move,” the Segment spoke.
The sounds were strange and guttural and his mouth moved in unnatural motions. His vocal cords did not like it. They felt too loose and lacked control over the sounds.
“Can you not respond without moving your lips? Without making a sound?” His Creator asked.
The merman, for he was beginning to understand the differences biologically and his own identity in more depth, schooled his expression and focused. He tried to feel anything beyond himself, than the water on his skin that rippled his fins and the hum of the filtration system and the low hissing from the far corners of the tank network. He could see his Creator, sense his presence in a physical understanding of him occupying space facing the tank. Whispers crept up into his ear and throughout the base of his skull but it was akin to the way his Creator once pressed an ear to a closet door as a child.
One way. He could listen and observe, distantly, but he could not partake.
All the better, really, Nadir considered. The others were very loud and boisterous and clambering for attention.
The only attention the merman wanted was that of his intended companion.
But he was not eager to have his existence snuffed so quickly.
When Nadir did not reply, and instead shook his head, the man on the other side of the tank brought a hand to his lips. Silence dominated.
Until the Creator’s shoulders rose and fell in a single motion when he reassessed what the Segment could only assume were notes.
“Perhaps it is the medium required for your physical form that prevents the connection. I had to make several modifications to account for waterproof mechanisms. Sound travels differently in water. It stands to reason that water would slow other waves down as well…”
The bipedal man dropped the papers with a flick of his wrist, uncaring and bored. They were worthless now, in the face of recent events. He approached the tank, arms behind his back.
“I am otherwise quite proud of this particular specimen, Fjar. If he were to reside in the far reaches of the waters here, or live elsewhere, would you object?”
Ah, so that was her proper name. The word was familiar, danced across his mind when he recalled memories of a name and another land. Once again, none of it his . Nadir had not existed properly until roughly twenty minutes ago.
The dawn spoke, her voice made for water, beautiful as the sunrise she represented.
“As long as he stays far away from me. From us . Your work is appreciated, my Zandik, but you know how I feel. I will have you , not an imitation of you. He will be safe provided he never approaches me.”
Nadir stared at his Creator, who raised his head a fraction before removing his mask. Eyes as red as a blood moon watched the Segment in return. Exhaustion tugged at the skin beneath his eyes and Nadir caught a flicker of hurt well-hidden behind a cold and calculating demeanor.
“There is no shortage of food and means to occupy yourself past the hole in the ice,” the man called Zandik said. “Her territory does not extend past that delineation. She has never been one to stray far from comfort. I do not anticipate requiring your presence as I do the others, so you are free to go where you wish.”
The Creator returned his mask to his face and turned away from the tank before leaving the room. He did not look back nor hesitate before he crossed the threshold and the door shut behind him.
Something constructed in Nadir’s chest and he could not, in all of the databanks and memories he was connected to, put a name to it. It was not sharp, like a knife, but it persisted from his chest up through his throat and crawled over his tongue. The sensation grew worse as the tank shimmered and flowed, the source obscured but unmistakable.
The Segment dove and found the pipeline connected to the ocean depths. His skin prickled as the temperature changed and the balance of minerals shifted.
At first, he lingered. How could he not?
The only other of his kind, manufactured though he was, lived in these waters. He held memories of what it was to be on two legs and feet, feel sand between toes and the sun on a face that was his and yet not.
The best way to learn and understand was to observe, watch, see what unfolded without interference.
There was no point in staying where he was not wanted. But if nothing else, such knowledge would help him survive elsewhere.
___________________
He grew bored within the year and set out from the reaches of the far north, with nothing but the currents and memories of maps as guides.
Down here, beneath the ice and at such depth, hardly any sun reached through the frigid waters. His Creator saw to it that his vision was intended for all environments but the winter months made it especially difficult when light was so infrequent.
The overworld was vast but the bodies of water were far larger still. Nadir had the world between his fingertips. Anywhere. Everywhere. He could go to the land of Freedom, where it was said the air was clear and the water even clearer; or perhaps to the reaches of the land of Eternity, where he might have better odds among the yokai; the nation of War was far too hot for his liking and the adepti of the land of Contracts were protective of their legacy.
His Creator spent time in…what was it…a fountain…ah, Fontaine! Although the nation embodied Justice, it was said that all life sprang forth from the waters of the land of Hydro. Zandik had enjoyed it there under a guise that had no name and was never recorded. No doubt the waters would be crowded but of all nations, it seemed the most promising.
He stuck to the shadows of the water. The voices at the base of his skull whispered, screamed, and shouted all the while.
Until one day, his ears began to ring after a muted pop and his vision went dark as he caught a glimpse of a waterfall in the moonlight.
___________________
When he opened his eyes again, he felt rocks and silt beneath him. Everything felt dry . Disgustingly so, as if every water droplet was sucked from his entire being. Something bright and painful winked down at him and with difficulty, he raised a hand to cover his eyes.
Pale strands of aquamarine hair clung to him, long and tangled. Despite how arid everything felt, his hair continued to stick to everything. When he was swimming, it didn’t matter much but now? It just made his dry skin itchier.
He heard the splashing of water and his…tail, yes, that word seemed correct swayed with the soft current. He couldn’t recall how he arrived here. All he remembered was ringing, like high pressure, and darkness.
There was a sudden rustle and then another sound, foreign but soft.
“Are you alright?”
He gritted his sharp teeth and lifted his arm. What language were they even speaking ? The light was now obscured and instantly his skin felt several degrees cooler.
His bleary garnet eyes focused on the object, no, person before him. Backlit by the brilliant light in the sky (was that the sun?), he could make out wide eyes shot with concern but as stunning as gems, lips slightly parted as if to speak again, and colors framing you that he had no name for.
You.
You were beautiful.
He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face as a distant sensation swam in his mind that another might be jealous of you.
“Can you speak?” you asked.
His throat was arid, his tongue thick and rough. He dared not trust his vocal cords and instead shook his head, grits of sand embedding into his hair.
You made a sound that made his heart jump, a rush of air passing through your lungs that mimicked bells. Your smile was apologetic, sweet in the way your lips curved and your expression conveyed your sincerity.
“Silly question, this place is eternally dry and you clearly belong in the water. Let’s at least get the rest of your lower half in the water first. You’re too striking and handsome to dry out.”
Forward, too. Had he met others like you before?
Your hands were warm, a little rougher, and with a little assistance, he was sitting upright with his tail properly in the water. He was already feeling a bit better, even if his gills felt dry as they laid flat against his neck and his second respiratory pathways took over. His hair, he realized, was much longer than he initially thought, tickling his back.
He watched as you pulled out a flask, opened it, and held it out to him. His red eyes traced the line from the canteen, to your hands, your arm, and then your face.
Human. You were human, same as…
Same as who?
“At least take a sip so your throat isn’t dry,” you prompted. “It’s safe, I swear.”
He took it and put the metal to his lips, which he now realized were painfully cracked, and let the water pass across his tongue and down his throat. The water tasted of iodine and he gagged as he swallowed.
So he not only needed to be in water but he needed water to survive. That seemed counter-intuitive. After all, he was mechanical . Or partially mechanical. What purpose did such a thing serve?
“Certainly tasted otherwise,” he managed to choke out, holding the container out to you.
Your fingers were warm against his webbed fins and you didn’t even hesitate when your fingers brushed his claws. He could not determine if you were very brave or very stupid for that, with the way your touch sent a jolt down his spine and into his tail.
Thankfully, his lower half was in water as he silently cursed at the other sensations that arose. He would have to research this experience further…
“Out here, the water has to be purified before it can be consumed. At least for me, at any rate,” your smile showed your unspoken apology. “Do you have a name?”
A question he could not answer. At one point, he had to have. Someone gave it to him. The opposite point of the rising sun…
Before he could respond, your hands found his hair and settled on something he didn’t feel until you gave a gentle tug.
“Oh, that has to hurt, no?”
He liked when your voice was tinged with worry, especially for someone you barely knew. That was kind of you, if not incredibly foolish. So many in the water gave him a wide berth, avoided him, and for good reason. Or so it seemed. In hindsight, he had no explanation, no context, just…end results.
You tugged on a different spot and he gritted his teeth again.
“When you pull on it, human , yes, it hurts,” he spat. “Are you always so callous with all you come across?”
“I’m sorry. You have…that’s a fishing lure…and a piece of a net…that looks like some kind of mollusk…if you’re going to have long hair, you have to care for it…this isn’t salvageable…”. You sounded almost sad and you reached around to show him a crude pair of shears, large and clearly intended for working with harder materials than hair. “I can cut it but I’d have to remove most of it. Your neck would be bare.”
“Why would I trust the one tugging on me to use anything with a blade near me?”
The question felt logical. After all, you’d caused him great discomfort. Interrupted what was likely meant to be the embrace of death. Maybe death was the purpose, the point. After all, he hadn’t felt anything other than the drive to explore and understand. And if his body couldn’t go on, then what use was…
“I can leave it if you want but it’ll weigh you down and create more drag when you swim. Not very aerodynamic, you know?”
He turned his head and felt his skin grow hot at how close your face was to his. You smelled of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely you and his heart began its own unorganized rhythm. That sensation that sat at the base of his spine tingled and turned into an ache as it ran through him, ruining whatever trains of thought he had. Now, all he could think of was your lips and how much he wanted to feel your heat against him, around him, how he wanted to see your eyes blown dark with base need…
He swallowed when you smiled and your low laugh jostled your torso into his. You were soft , Archons above, so soft…
Your eyes seemed to marvel for a moment, dropping to the bottom half of his face, before you spoke again.
“I gave you water and made sure you didn’t dry out like a raisin; surely that’s enough reason to trust me? All I ask in return is your name. So if our paths ever cross again, I know what to call you. It’s only polite.”
He couldn’t reply, too preoccupied with preventing you from realizing whatever was happening under the water. He did not remember much but he did recall that such base needs were…a boundary for most. One he could not get a grasp on but you were far kinder than he anticipated…
Why did that preconceived notion exist if there was no evidence to support it? What happened ?
He felt the wet hair fall away in chunks, his neck muscles instantly relieved as soon as most of the weight was gone. You worked carefully when the locks were short enough and only twice did you ask for him to wet his head. Something about an even plane to work with. He closed his eyes and leaned back a little into your gentle touch. You knew exactly how to run your hands through his hair against his scalp. The only sounds between the two of you was the harsh click of the shears as you worked.
All the while, he resisted the urge to place one hand in his lap. He couldn’t determine if he wanted to hide his protruding appendage or stroke it.
No one had touched him. Ever. Whatever memories of who he was were vague if not outright gone entirely but he knew that much. His life had been solitary and this need had never existed before.
“There, all done!” You chirped. “It’s actually quite curly when it dries. Suits you better, if I can say so myself!”
Curly?
He brought a hand up and felt the locks, shorn and…oh, they flipped and had patterns of their own…
You stepped away and from the pack you had thrown down, you pulled out a panel of reflective silver.
“Here. I’m an inventor, not a hair stylist, but I think I managed to keep your handsome visage from being ruined.”
He stared at you, and then the object, and back at you. Didn’t people use that word for those they held affection for? Or was it a general descriptor for someone who was pleasant to look at?
He would need to do a significant amount of research on human customs. The knowledge he did have was insufficient and vague, like he had swallowed it without understanding its contents.
The merman took the shining glass and almost dropped it. Familiar red eyes stared back at him, sharp teeth that tore through the flesh of any creature winked in the mirror, and his hair…
Oh, that was much better. It wouldn’t get in the way, easy to maintain…
His right ear sported a broken piece of glass on a wire. What had that been? Could that pop have been…?
“Well, I don’t look like a shark attacked my head,” he muttered in amusement when he handed back the mirror.
That earring should come out. If it was broken, there was no point in keeping it. Maybe he could replace it with something else. He tilted his head to get better leverage on the post, his claws making the task harder. Ridiculous. How did that thing get in, then?
“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’, Mister…?”
Your patience ran out, it seemed. He returned your expectant look with a weary expression. Truth would be prudent. He had no one else to turn to. And if you did run your mouth when you returned to wherever you were from, no one was liable to believe you, were they?
After all, that was a large backpack for a day adventurer and you had absolutely no fear helping a strange creature survive.
No, you, too, were an outcast.
“I cannot recall my name,” he said at last. “The last thing I remember is a high-pitched ringing before waking up here.”
“Nothing? Not even a nickname? A notion?”
Your persistence might have been charming if he wasn’t so focused on not ripping his ear fin. Was the stupid thing sewn into his flesh?
You clicked your tongue and knelt down beside him. Your softness pressed into his shoulder as you brushed away his hands and worked with the clasp and post, pulling the wire from the piercing. When you offered it, he shook his head and you reeled your arm back and flung the broken thing into the water. It landed with a plunk and sank where it hit.
“I do have a notion, if you must insist on information. But you have not shared your name, only your profession, inventor .”
His eyes locked with yours and you never looked away, never so much as stepped back. No, this lack of fear wasn’t confidence, it couldn’t be. Perhaps you were touched in the head or just absolutely without sense from the high sun.
You tilted your head and he had to close his mouth to repress the urge to latch onto the column of your neck.
Killing you would do nothing but potentially result in people looking for him. A dead body, even that of an outcast, brutally torn apart? It would only reinforce whatever superstitions existed in these parts.
Your name was nothing more than a whisper across your tongue. He wondered, briefly, if the jolts that ran through every part of him at the syllables was anything like being electrocuted. He repeated your name as his tail fins twitched and he throbbed again beneath the water.
“Mmhmm. Your turn.”
He paused, licking his cracked lips before attempting the name that lingered in his memory banks like a ghost.
“Nadir.”
“The opposite of zenith,” you replied. “Where someone’s shadow would appear…the lowest point of someone’s spirit…” You frowned, almost wounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last one.”
“I did not know its true meaning. That is beneficial.”
You shook your head and gave a smile that was too tight to be kind. You had embarrassed yourself and whatever glimmer of enthusiasm had existed was snuffed out with regret.
“Its meaning is irrelevant. You look like the evening sky out here, when the sun finally falls and fades from a light blue into the shades of night. We are not our names given to us. I think there might be a more suitable one for you out there.”
You returned to your pack and fiddled with something. A rag and a bottle and small pieces of metal. The merman inched himself towards the deeper parts of the water, not intent on leaving yet but itching to test his physical capabilities. You stepped into the water with ease, legs protected by leather, and you reached down, experienced hands sliding a post into place through pierced flesh.
Nadir, for he had no other name to refer to himself, touched his fin and felt the small earring. A stud, nothing fancy. When he looked up, he noticed the gold and tanzanite gem from one of your own ears was missing.
“Whatever you call yourself, as long as you have that, I’ll know it’s you. If we ever meet again.”
___________________
Without a past and without more than loose tendrils of memories, Nadir found himself wandering the coasts of an arid desert beneath high waterfalls. He kept his hair short, as you had shaped for him, and he quite liked the way it retained a fluffy volume, curling in a wild fashion.
In the depths, he found caverns and ruins, documents preserved through sheer luck and machinery that sputtered and whirred.
So much of the machinery felt familiar, although he didn’t know why. He knew exactly where to touch, how the joints held together, and the distance to keep from those blasted sensors that targeted enemies. Working with them was as easy as swimming and converting hydrogen dioxide into its smaller compound to oxygenate his circulatory system.
Presumably, whatever past he held and whatever memories were once in his system held the answer. But he was not likely to obtain them again.
Language was retained. The world’s history, such as it was, and its geography, were readily available. He knew he was on the cusp of Sumeru and Fontaine.
But he did not know how he came to be. Nor understand why he was so fascinated with the notion of artificial life (other than, perhaps, that he was not quite organic nor mechanic).
Above the waterfalls was a large statue that glowed bright at night. The water there was purer, crisper, tinged with a sweetness that came with the surety of one’s actions. Climbing it would not be impossible, even for Nadir; he did not lack the muscles to achieve it.
But it would be a waste of energy and time.
Where there were steam engines and mechanics, there were pipes to provide water to the various parts necessary. He could only conclude that there were other means to make one’s way into Fontaine.
The Fountain of all life.
Part of him wished to stay here, in the seams of the nations, perhaps even set up a workshop. There was plenty to explore and play around with. Ships came through here regularly and superstitious sailors would be easy to bargain with.
But Nadir was never one for staying idle. The world waited for no one and there was so much more beyond his tiny scope.
And so, upon several inspections and tracking of schedules, he entered one of the pipes at the most opportune time and came out of the darkness to shining brilliance and crystalline waters. The shallows were tricky for a creature like him, for he could not easily hide and there was too much activity around for his liking.
The other creatures were friendlier than he expected. Otters tumbled with their shells and presented him with a rock to tuck away. Blubberbeasts rumbled and invited him to swim with them. The crabs were troublesome but nothing he couldn’t handle with a hard thwack of his tail and a slash of his claws.
Glowing crystals, flowing fauna, coral reefs…everything here teemed with life.
And below Fontaine City, there was plenty to explore, it seemed.
Yes, this would do quite nicely for now.
___________________
He settled in quickly. Food was abundant and there were so many caverns and old ruins that Nadir was not without shelter. Some of the ruins appeared to be some kind of research facility or library, which suited him just fine.
What did not suit him were the random devices that would find their way to his usual hunting ground. They often scared the fish away and he would return to his vast underground network with only metal cogs and curiosity, his stomach grumbling all the while. Many of these things were almost operational as well. It was like someone tired of the project or could not finish it through and flung it out the nearest window.
Ridiculous. Wasteful. Pathetic.
Nadir fixed the contraption once he understood its mechanical intentions and returned it to the shoreline. On more than one occasion, he tied a bow on one out of seaweed, just to be, well, petty and make it harder for the owner to pick up.
The devices were always gone within twenty-four hours and in their place, he found mora. Which he had little to no use for but at least the sailors he traded with never questioned its origin.
One day, Nadir was unlucky enough to be caught as he was placing an unfortunate device back onto the ledge.
“So you’re the reason I’ve yet to be fined, huh?”
His garnet gaze burned as he laid eyes on familiar hair, shining eyes. He would know you anywhere.
Surely not.
Surely you had more sense than to throw away your projects. To complete them yourself.
He couldn’t determine if he should be angry or ravenous. You, in Fontaine? It must have been fate. But then again, fate implied agreeing with the Heavenly Principles and partaking in the constant samara cycles of the world. Which Nadir wanted no part of.
“And you call yourself an inventor,” he muttered, running his tongue over sharp teeth. “Can’t even follow through on your own work.”
“Not my fault everything’s been done before. Just when I think I’m making progress, turns out seven other people did the same thing. Nothing’s original.”
“So have I been fixing garbage for nothing?”
“No. I did earn a position in research and development for a private company that works with the Palais thanks to you. And I have been fairly compensating you…although in hindsight perhaps I should have asked if mora was the best way to do that…not many places to use it for those who live in the water…”
You trailed off, face alight with embarrassment. Your attire was dingy and looked like you’d endured an explosion. Nadir sank into the water, keeping his eyes and ear fins just above the surface.
“How long have you been in Fontaine?” You asked, settling into the ledge.
You removed your boots and stockings and stuck your feet into the water. Nadir couldn’t help but admire your bare skin for a moment before raising his head.
“I do not know how you track time but I have seen winter and spring already. That is roughly…six months, if I calculated correctly.”
“You were okay when the waters froze over?”
How did he tell you that he held memories of ice far thicker and water far colder?
“I am here, am I not?” Nadir shot back.
You gave a wry smile in return. Silence dominated as you watched him, just as he watched you in return.
“You kept it,” you pointed to your hair and then your ear.
“Short hair is far more practical and the earring is quite pretty. It reminds me that some humans can be kind. If not a bit…lacking in self preservation.”
“Oh?”
Nadir gave a wide, toothy grin and you didn’t so much as flinch. When you didn’t react, he slid his tongue out slightly, the exact way he would when eyeing prey.
“I could have killed you in the desert.”
“But you didn’t.”
“And I could kill you now.”
“You won’t.”
Nadir barked a laugh. “What makes you so sure?”
Your smile widened. He watched as, for the first time that evening, a spark shimmered in your eyes.
“Because you enjoy tinkering. If you killed me, what else would you fill your days with, Nadir?”
“You think very highly of yourself, Inventor. There’s plenty of underwater devices, I’ll have you know. Some of the Research Facility fell into the water, after all. And it’s quite easy to find the parts I need from defective mechs or bargaining with divers.”
“And who else would you talk to, hmm? Who else is brave enough—”
“Stupid enough,” Nadir interrupted.
You raised an eyebrow but continued, “—to try and bridge the gap?”
Nadir’s gaze dropped to your bare knees and feet, where your skin met the water, before he flicked his eyes back up to you. Even now, months after you saved him, you sat with him and treated him as an equal. Anyone else would attempt to bargain with him, keep him at arm’s length but here you were, feet in the water, treating him like…
Like you wanted him.
His chest constricted. In the deep reaches of his mind, he tried to remember a time or a place someone wanted him and he came up short.
He reached a webbed hand, mindful of his razor-sharp claw, and danced a finger on the sole of your foot. When you didn’t react, he swam closer, skimming his palm across the muscle of your calf.
“And what gap might that be, hmm?” He asked as he situated himself between your open legs.
From this angle, you were smaller than he originally thought (or perhaps it was the ledge height); he towered over you regardless. His heart danced in time with the cadence of your laugh when his nails tickled your skin ever so slightly.
You smelled different than the last time he saw you. Metal, soot, and the air of the thunderstorm just before the crack of lightning.
He expected cockiness, a sharp remark. But all Nadir found was a simmering gaze and parted lips, perfect for the taking. Your breath mingled with his and he couldn’t help but wonder what you might taste like.
“This one,” you whispered.
You leaned forward and Nadir gripped your legs to keep you from falling as your lips crashed onto his. You were all softness, eager heat, and searing touches as you rested your hands flat against his bare chest.
His head swam as you pressed exploratory kisses to his mouth and jaw. He read about this, along with many other things regarding human courting and mating. Few researchers knew of or studied the creatures he was created to mimic. But he knew enough to recognize that his body’s responses were normal, even if he disliked the loss of control.
Nadir gave a hiss as your dull teeth grazed the curve of his neck before you swirled your tongue across his skin. His skin felt as if he were on fire. A shiver ran down his spine and a throbbing ache settled in his lower belly as he hardened at your teasing.
As long as he kept himself in the water and you stayed on the ledge, he might survive this encounter with shreds of self-control.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, human ,” he murmured.
“Am I?”
You laughed softly into the soft flesh of his neck and he twitched beneath the water as a jolt ran straight down to his member. Your warmth left him as you pulled away and he gripped your legs harder when you cupped his face.
“Looks like you’re liking it, though. Flustered just like when I cut your hair.”
Well, that left him with no choice.
Nadir pulled you into the water with a splash and he dove, crashing his tail on the surface once to create additional spray. He heard a cry as you flailed, your head bobbing above water once, twice, and then you began to…
Panic shot through him, killing everything else as he darted towards you. In one swift motion, he scooped you under your arms and brought you back to the surface. His heart calmed every so slightly when you gasped and coughed (although he would not have minded pressing his mouth to your again). The ledge you were on was too high to easily reach, he realized, and he brought you to the nearest patch of shallow water.
“You could have mentioned that you couldn’t swim,” he muttered, settling you into the shoal.
“Right, yeah, because I’m going to admit that to a man with a tail and fins who lives in the water. That’s like telling your murderer where to shoot you.”
Your voice cracked. You sniffed and then coughed again before getting to your feet.
“Am I not allowed to tease you back?”
“ Teasing would be pulling away and splashing me,” you shot back, extending an arm out in emphasis. “Finding something else about me to make a flirtatious response about. Not putting me in danger. What if I hit my head going down? What if you didn’t have the reflexes you do?”
You wrung out your clothes and tried to make yourself presentable. The previous flush across your cheeks was no longer soft and endearing; you instead looked like you were trying to embody the red creatures he saw in the regions near the Fortress. Your eyes shone but not with the usual enthusiasm nor vibrancy he liked. In fact, you didn’t look at him at all.
“For the record, most people apologize when they hurt someone else.”
He wanted to call after you as you trudged through the water, your name (your beautiful, brilliant name) on his lips. But he didn’t want to taint it. You didn’t deserve that.
Nadir watched, only the top half of his face to the bridge of his nose above the surface, as you made your way back into the city without sparing a glance back.
___________________
He never had a single device thrown into the nearby waters after that encounter.
And you never came to claim the one you left behind.
It glared at him every time the morning sun glinted off the metal and he caught the stupid thing out of the corner of his eye. A constant reminder of you , as if the pangs that shot through his arms and chest weren’t enough.
He hadn’t wanted to hurt you. In fact, despite his words, he never would have been able to bring himself to truly sink his teeth into your flesh. Nadir would never be able to live with himself if he watched life fade from your eyes and your body slump.
Which made him all the more frustrated with himself. Pulling you into the water had been a gut reaction, a way to equal the playing ground when you were so intent on mocking him. He did it with sailors who tried to cheat him out of an agreement.
How was he supposed to know you, someone who lived in the city of Hydro, couldn’t swim ?
Part of him tried to simply forget you and move on with his existence. That’s what any normal creature would do, after all. You weren’t like him and you certainly weren’t as clever as he was, at any rate.
But he never heard anything as beautiful as your laugh and the way you smiled at him…
He tried not to take the physical reactions into consideration, how he imagined you might feel beneath him, what coupling with you might feel like as you squeezed him, your lips parted and eyes lidded…
His seed joined the seafoam one morning before he grabbed the stupid contraption and brought it back to his workshop.
How did one apologize ?
This device was meant to be a timed lantern; the user would set the amount of time on the bottom in increments of five, ten, fifteen minutes up until a full hour. You had not positioned the heat sensor right and it kept turning off before the actual timer recognized the appropriate measurement of time. It was functional now and to change anything would render it useless for its intended purpose.
Nadir frowned. He’d had a purpose once, hadn’t he? His creation was not random; one did not just assemble pseudo-biological systems for no reason, after all. Despite having no memories of his creator, he knew his muscles were synthetic and his biological systems were as functional and necessary as any other living creature. Granted, he never tried not eating, but why else did he physically respond to your touch at all, if nothing was functional ?
He shoved the thought aside as he disassembled the housing on the lantern and removed the bulb, leaving only the lighting node itself, the sensors, and the glass panels through which the light shone.
The timer moved a set of cogs as it counted down and the heat sensor had a little lever to insert a piece of non-conductive material into the circuit, cutting off the flow of power. Simple and basic wiring and cog placement.
But…
He rummaged through and found a comb and wheel, the pieces sliding home as if they were meant to be there. Thorough testing revealed that another song might be needed, both because this one was grating to listen to and because he needed to take the extended intervals into consideration.
While he continued to work on the abandoned device, he sought pathways into the city itself. Just like with the waterfall and the elevator’s steam engines, there was no way all of the machinery in the city operated without some kind of system to pump water through the streets. Eventually, he came upon pipes and underground tunnels, entire networks of stairs and walkways far beneath the sunlight of the city.
Small houses, crammed in next to one another, food stands and market stalls packed as vendors bargained and shouted. Children ran along the waterways, pretending sticks from the surface were swords.
He never allowed more than his eyes above the surface and never for too long. This was too close for comfort. The last thing anyone down here needed was a rumor of a monster lurking in the water.
It took weeks but he finally heard murmurs of your whereabouts. A child, knelt down next to a broken mechanical animal, was told your name and that you fixed machines all the time. That you could be found on the outskirts of the market when you weren’t working on the surface.
The sections there were shallower, if not outright inaccessible Nadir recalled. Perhaps not quite a problem but admittedly, it made this all the harder.
Upon hearing your voice from one of the tiny cramped living spaces, he burned the image of your door into your mind until he finished the device. He wrapped it carefully and made his way back to your location, the invention clutched tight to his chest. Knowing at this hour that no one would spot him, Nadir lifted himself out of the shallows before the grating covered the waterway. He pulled himself along with one arm until he reached your door, carefully placed the gift where you would see it and not break it, and gave your door a good thwack with his tail. You grumbled a threat to supposed intruders as he made his way back to the water and he dove just as he heard your door open.
Quietly, he surfaced and watched as you picked up the wet oilskin package and opened it. You froze almost instantly in recognition (he had not changed the shape in the slightest, despite his modifications). Nadir’s heart hammered in his chest and his mouth became surprisingly dry when you wound up the key on the bottom.
The lantern flickered to life and images began to move between the bulb and the glass panels, casting shadows on the metal walls. Notes from a song he only knew in composition danced in the air as you watched the shapes. Nadir’s eyes were glued to your face.
A tail became legs. The figure walked to another. A kiss. A house. A life.
He once read a tale about a girl from Remuria, born partially in the image of an Oceanid, who fell in love with a person on the surface. She made a bargain for her voice in exchange for the excruciating experience of legs, endearing pain with every step just to be with her true love.
It was too flowery for Nadir’s liking and seemed to reinforce the idea that people should stay where they belonged. Nonetheless, the base sentiments were there.
You closed your eyes and clutched the lantern to your chest when the song ended.
“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, the words as loud to him as though he spoke them right next to him.
He did not expect you to join him the following evening. But when he heard the notes as he was hunting for dinner, he could not help but heed the call.
You stood on the ledge, lantern in your hands. Your face was puffy and you looked like you hadn’t slept. A terrible look for you, if he were honest, but now was not the best time to say such a thing.
“Is this how you feel?” you asked. “About me?”
Your words were soft and you broke your gaze away to look at the lantern you held. He should have had a speech prepared. Or at least a sound argument. In actuality, he never expected you to show up again. It had been enough to express how he felt through the shadow art and he would have been content with your apology, even if he wasn’t supposed to overhear it.
The longer the silence stretched on, the thinner your patience became.
And you were gracious enough to make the trip.
“If you are asking if I love you, the answer is truthfully that I do not know,” Nadir admitted. “I have never had the life experience to tell me one way or the other and it is easy to mistake infatuation and lust for something more…foundational.”
He ran his tongue over the sharp points of his teeth.
“But I do know that I never meant to harm you, that I never wanted to harm you, and I think I would be quite happy seeing your face every day of my existence. However long that’s meant to be.”
He could see by the way your expression shifted that you had plenty of words to say. For the first time since he met you, however, you opted for silence and instead placed the lantern down on the ground. You removed your boots and uniform, leaving yourself only in the thin underclothes that gave the vague outline of your true form.
And then you jumped.
Your name left his lips as soon as you broke the surface and Nadir flicked his tail, propelling himself forward.
Was the idea of loving him so abhorrent that you could drown yourself to be rid of him? Did you truly have a death wish?
Hands found his chest before arms wrapped around his neck and he surface with you clinging to him, your feet kicking. Nadir glared down at you, a cheeky smile across your face the whole while.
“What were you thinking—” he started.
Wait, kicking?
You giggled and pushed away from him, moving your arms and legs to keep yourself afloat.
“Forced myself to learn. I didn’t have a lot of time after my shifts for much else. But I realized I was actually angry at myself,” you said. “Had I known how to swim, that night would have gone differently.”
Your movements were clumsy but calculated. Swimming wasn’t even second nature to you, or even third; he could see it in the way you expended too much energy in treading, in the clear discomfort of you submerging yourself under water.
“I’d like to try again,” you said, swimming slightly closer. “If you’d be open to it.”
Nadir couldn’t name the feeling that seemed to stem from his fins and reach all the way into his head, making him dizzy.
“You… want to…”
“Would I be here if I never wanted to see you again, Nadir?”
No, you didn’t seem the type, he wanted to say. But sometimes, silence was better. It didn’t weigh everything down. And he very much enjoyed this warm feeling swelling inside of him seeing you in the water with him.
“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”
___________________
It took time, as all things did.
You moved out of the undercity and, with a little help from a few colleagues from your company’s engineering department, assembled a house over the water just northeast of Fontaine City. The trip into the city was the same length of time as before. Only now, there were beaches instead of stone ledges and you had plans for creating underwater parts of the house for Nadir.
The lantern often lit up your room at night when the two of you went to sleep, both of you keenly aware of the other’s absence.
You didn’t want a solution that involved changing him, you said one night, toes in the sand. Although you might never share the same bed nor eat at the same table, you were content to have dinner in the same space as him and to sit on the beach and discuss various mechanical ideas until the early hours of the morning.
At some point, he confessed to knowing that he was not entirely organic and that he hailed from a frozen country. Beyond that, he held little to no recollection; when you protested about closure, he pressed his lips to yours and said that you were all he needed.
Hearing your resolution on not changing him meant more to him than he could truly put into words. Finding a way to give him legs would be more practical but there was so much of human life that he didn’t understand nor wanted to.
So instead, he opted to hold you close, tail in the tide, and point out the available constellations.
Until your breath was too hot on his neck and he lost the ability to concentrate. This close, your scent mingling with the fresh evening breeze, your soft warmth pressed against his side, Nadir wondered if he might combust.
Discussions of logistics happened, of course. You were no biologist but you admired his form on more than one occasion and took to sketching him when you needed a break from schematics. He had felt your wet folds before when you directed his hand through your panties and demanded he understand just what his affections did to you.
He did. All too well.
Nadir grew hot when your hand wandered, tracing his slit and the tip of his member. He gasped when you coaxed him further, your lips on his neck and his cock in your hand; he turned his head and found you gazing not at the stars but at him, every bit of you burning with a deeper yearning than mere lust.
“I mean it. I don’t want anything different. Just you.”
You ran your hands through his hair, tugging slightly and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.
“I want to taste you first,” he panted. “Properly.”
Before he could rearrange either of you, you remove the remainder of your garments and situated your legs around his neck. Your folds were glistening with your own slick and he only caught a glimpse before his nose was pressed against your clit and your scent and taste overwhelmed him.
Nadir gripped your thighs tight, nails digging into the soft flesh as he licked and teased. He did his best to keep his teeth covered as he dipped between your folds, feeling your velvet walls against his tongue. He pulled away only long enough to nibble at your thighs and nuzzle between your folds, reveling in the way your desire dripped down his chin.
Your taste made him dizzy and served to only harden him further. Your feisty hand reached behind you and squeezed his length and he groaned, the edge already closer than he wished it was.
No, not yet.
He pulled your hips down onto him and pushed his tongue into you as far as it would go. Judging from the jolt that rocked both of you, that was much deeper than you anticipated. He flicked across one particular spot and you bucked again as you gave a low whine.
Now that was interesting…you enjoyed that…
Nadir repeated the motion and you clenched around his tongue with a louder cry. He continued, unrelenting, until you shuddered, walls fluttering as your taste changed and you gushed atop him. You were breathless, chest heaving, glowing with a desire yet to be extinguished.
He licked every drop from your lips and your thighs. You tasted magnificent and he couldn’t let that go to waste.
Your hands reached for him again but Nadir leveraged you with ease and flipped both of you over, your back on the sand and legs wrapped around his waist.
“I need all of you,” he whispered. “Just you.”
You felt absolutely divine against his tip and he eased into you slowly, inch by inch, your swollen walls still fluttering. He watched your expression, eyes widening and lips parting in pants as he finally bottomed out. You were already beautiful but like this?
Such things were not meant for this world. And yet you were all his .
Your hands trailed across his back and down along his hips, tracing the scales of his tail. He moaned when, as he pulled out slightly to simply steady himself, the heel of your foot pressed against his tail and pushed him back in and you held him there, filling you entirely with his length. He nipped at your neck in retaliation.
“Nadir…”
Oh, when you said his name like that, dragging out the last syllable…
He pulsed inside you and you had the gall to bring your other leg up, pinning him inside you. Nadir gritted his teeth and, claws digging into your waist, pulled you further down the shore and into the water. He flipped both of you so you rested atop him, legs encircling his waist, and your bodies still joined at the hip. You sputtered for a moment but were wholly undeterred
He continued to thrust into you lazily as he floated along to deeper water. He held you tight, and pulled your body further underwater, until only your heads were above the surface. You were weightless on top of him, shrouded in his element, and he dragged out both of your releases until you convulsed on top of him, moaning incoherently.
Nadir buried his face in your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his guttural groan as he released deep inside you. He shuddered as you peaked again, the intensity too much for him to bear so soon.
He kissed and licked your shoulder apologetically as you both came down from your high, tangled in one another. In the distance, the water sparkled with the promise of daybreak, the sky already full of soft pinks and oranges. Had you truly been up all night?
“Have you ever seen such a beautiful sunrise?” you whispered, nuzzling closer to him.
A vague memory tickled his mind. A flick of fins, a touch of dawn, possessive glares.
If that was beauty by most standards, then he wanted no recollection of that.
“No. No, I have not, my love. But every day with you will contain such light. I’m sure of it.”
#dottore#il dottore#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#dottore x female reader#il dottore x female reader#dottore/female reader#il dottore/female reader#Dottore merman segment#smut#Tw: smut#merman fucking#idk how else to say it tbh#Happy ending
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Is Crypto Really Going To Crash? (Yes)
Crypto is going to crash and could take your savings with it.
In June 2022, Bitcoin dropped over 30 percent to its lowest values since December 2020, and Ethereum, the second-most valuable cryptocurrency, fell about 35 percent. TerraUSD, a so-called “stablecoin,” also collapsed when its underlying cryptocurrency LUNA lost 97 percent of its value in just 24 hours, apparently destroying some investors’ life savings. The implosion helped trigger a crypto meltdown that erased $300 billion in value across the market.
As cryptocurrency prices plummeted, Celsius Network — an experimental cryptocurrency lender — announced it was freezing withdrawals “due to extreme market conditions.”
These crypto crashes and freezes have fueled worries that the complex crypto banking and lending system is on the brink of ruin.
But this crash shouldn’t surprise anyone familiar with the industry – or anyone who remembers the financial crashes of 1929 and 2008.
Let me explain.
In the murky world of crypto decentralized finance, known as DeFi, it’s hard to understand who provides money for loans, where the money flows, or how easy it is to trigger currency meltdowns.
There are no standards for issues of custody, risk management, or capital reserves. There are no transparency requirements. Investors often don’t know how their money is being handled. Deposits are not insured.
It’s a Ponzi scheme. Like all Ponzi schemes, getting rich depends on how many other investors follow you into it – until somebody’s left holding the worthless crypto coin.
Why isn’t this market regulated? Follow the money.
The crypto industry is pouring huge amounts into political campaigns. It has hired scores of former government officials and regulators to lobby on its behalf — including three former chairs of the Securities and Exchange Commission, three former chairs of the Commodity Futures Trading Commission, three former U.S. senators, and even former Treasury Secretary Larry Summers.
In the past, cryptocurrencies kept rising by attracting new investors and big Wall Street money, along with celebrity endorsements. But all Ponzi schemes topple eventually – just like the Wild West finances of the 1920s did.
Back then, Americans had been getting rich by speculating on shares of stock, as other investors followed them into these risky assets — pushing their values ever upwards. When the toppling occurred in 1929, it plunged the nation and the world into the Great Depression.
That crash resulted in the Glass-Steagall Act, signed into law by Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933. Glass-Steagall separated commercial banking from investment banking, putting an end to the giant Ponzi scheme that had overtaken the American economy and led to the Great Crash of 1929.
It took a full generation to forget that crash and allow the forces that caused it to repeat their havoc.
By the mid-1980s, as the stock market soared, speculators noticed they could make even more money if they gambled with other people’s money, as speculators did in the 1920s. They pushed Congress to deregulate Wall Street, arguing that the United States financial sector would otherwise lose its competitive standing internationally.
The final blow was in 1999, when the Clinton administration succumbed to intensive lobbying and ditched what remained of Glass-Steagall. With its repeal, American finance once again became a betting parlor.
Inevitably, Wall Street suffered another near-death experience when its Ponzi schemes began toppling in 2008, just as they had in 1929. While the U.S. government bailed out the biggest banks and financial institutions, millions of Americans lost their jobs, their savings, and their homes – but only a single banking executive went to jail. In the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, a new but watered-down version of Glass-Steagall was enacted — the Dodd-Frank Act.
Which brings us — nearly a century after Glass-Steagall — to today’s crypto crash.
If we should have learned anything from the crashes of 1929 and 2008, it’s that regulation of financial markets is essential. Otherwise they turn into Ponzi schemes — leaving small investors with nothing and endangering the entire economy.
It’s time for the Biden administration and Congress to end the crypto Ponzi scheme.
In the meantime, share this video so your friends and family don’t fall for it.
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Doppo Kunikida (self-aware)
Self-Aware! Doppo Kunikida x GN! Reader
Warning: Yandere. OOC. Kunikida has existential crisis. Mentions of crying Atsushi. Kunikida feels, that he has lost his way. (At some extent) Controling Kunikida. English is my second language.
Becoming self-aware
📒 Doppo Kunikida considers himself to be a rational man.
📒 He has his ideals. He has plans. Someone may say (Dazai, for the most part), that Kunikida can't follow his ideals for his whole life. But Kunikida know, that he could prove them wrong
📒 Today was a normal day.
📒 Everything was normal. Sun wasn't moving. Faceless Yokohama citizens were minding their own business... WHAT?!
📒 For Kunikida the moment of gaining self-awareness were similar for a light bolt striking.
📒 One moment, Yokohama streets were busy. Now they were empty and Kunikida couldn't understand, what was happening. Maybe, it was an ability user?
📒 Kunikida rushed forward. He needs to hurry to the office. Together, ADA will find the culprit.
📒 On his way he noticed, that Uzumaki café was closed. Normally, it would be open at that time.
📒 At the office, Kunikida met others. All of them looked confused, lost, scared. Atsushi Nakajima looked like he was on the verge of the breakdown. Apparently, Atsushi already noticed that something was wrong few days before, but ADA not only didn't notice it, but they were behaving like puppets. They didn't react on Atsushi's attempts on snapping them from their weird trance.
📒 Apparently, it wasn't an ability. Dazai was also affected by it.
📒 Dazai himself looked strange. He not only looked confused, like the rest of them. He looked angry. Something dark was shining in his eyes.
Dazai's voice was similar to funiral bell.
"It's not an ability. Yokohama wasn't broken. We are broken. We are fictional characters, who gained self-awareness. Try to remember your lives. Parents, friends outside ADA, what you did yesterday. Give it a try"
📒 Kunikida wanted to shout at Dazai. It was insanity, of course they are real, they aren't fictional. And Doppo had parents, their names are... Their names were... They looked like...
📒 NOTHING. Kunikida can't remember anything.
📒 Nervously, Doppo open his notebook. On the page where some of his ideals were written down.
📒 There was nothing. Empty pages.
📒 Kunikida wanted to change the world for the better. But, does his actions have meaning? Has he ever helped someone real?
📒 And then the entity appeared.
__________________________________________
Kunikida was silent. He didn't want to think about the entity, he didn't want to think about his life. He just wanted to have something real in his life. Something, that will prove that his actions matters.
Kunikida continue doing his job. But he can't tell, for sure, if he wanted to do it anymore.
Few days after they recognise, that they weren't real, Atsushi asked everyone if they felt someone watching them.
Doppo, who rarely speaks that days, answered. "Yes, I feel it".
He wasn't the only one. Everyone feels it. It wasn't from there. It was real.
And then time resets.
And Kunikida Doppo was once again was on the river bank, lecturing Dazai about his unprofessional attitude. Atsushi was there. Dressed in rags from orphanage.
________________________________________
When they start feeling your presence
📒 Kunikida feels lost. You are real. You reset time. Not only that, but you looked at them, like they were amusing pets. Is that what a real person should do? Treat fictional characters like they existed for their entertainment?
📒 Kunikida, Dazai and Atsushi, again, go yo the tea shop. Atsushi, again, asked for a few bowls of ochazuke.
📒 Kunikida again, stops Atsushi from leaving the table after he heard about tiger. But something was new. A voice. Entity's voice.
"Cool [||||||||||] Kunikida! I wish I [|||||||||||] how to do it!"
📒 Kunikida feel like he was falling down. The emotions of Entity were so strong. The Entity liked his move? Well, actually, it does feel nice. For the first time in a few days, Kunikida smiles.
📒 Kunikida noticed, that Dazai changed again. Surprisingly, Dazai looked calm and carefree. After gaining self-awareness, he looked aloof and furious all the time. Now he looked like he was calm. For a moment, Kunikida thought, that Dazai looked like he was enjoying the entity's presence.
📒 Before Dazai and Atsushi left, Dazai advised Kunikida to look inside his notebook again. After Kunikida saw empty pages, he was scared to open it again.
📒 Kunikida opened his notebook on the first page. There was it. His main ideal. "Do what must be done".
📒It was still there... But, does it still have a meaning? Does his actions have a meaning? Doppo doesn't have ansvers for it.
📒 Few days later, the time resets again. Kunikida was twenty-years-old and Dazai just become a part of ADA.
______________________________________
"Just what is an 'ideal'? If you ask me, the answer is clear. It is a word written on the cover of my notebook. My notebook is omnipotent. It guides me as a principle, as a master, as a prophet. At times, it becomes a weapon and also a key."
Kunikida heard the entity again. He also heard like someone was writing something.
"good idea" "Kunikida is a good mentor" "if I do this"
"Thanks, Kunikida. Having a schedule does help a lot. I start having more free time after I start making a schedule. You know, I think you can change the world. At least, you changed me for a bit"
Kunikida felt the soft touch on his head.
[*In reality, you closed "Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam" light novel and carefully rub the cover*]
______________________________________
📒 If Kunikida believed in God, he would call you a divine gift. You. You were real. You changed because of him. You admitted it yourself. He changed someone
He has changed a real person.
📒 Doppo Kunikida was delighted. He finally knew, that he did something good.
Something meaningful. He wished he could change you more.
📒 Soon, Port Mafia reach ADA. Together, Ougai Mori and Fukuzawa Yukichi were trying to manage the new union. Soon, The Guild joined them. Then, Rats in the House of the Dead and Decay of Angels. Lastly, Hunting Dogs and Special Division for Unusual Powers. Yesterday's enemies were working together. Trying to get away from this world. Trying to reach the human who was out of this empty, dead world.
And then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.
When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan
📒 Doesn't matter, if the first Kunikida card you got is an R card that you don't use. Kunikida still can hear you.
"Vampire Kunikida card look so cool, I will try to pull for it"
"Ok, I will raise up Work Desk level on the office. Okay, Kunikida, give me this sweet points."
"Purple moon! Okay, [Y/N], stay calm... Wow, Rainy season Kunikida card, yes."
📒 Kunikida did his best, when you use his card. He enjoyed hearing your laugh.
📒 One day, the great news arrived. Katai Tayama, Ango Sakaguchi and Fyodor Dostoevsky managed to hack the app. Now, all of them have an access to your phone.
📒 Kunikida immediately went to your calendar, alarm clock and notes.
📒 Congratulations, now you have an everyday schedule and a perfect alarm clock.
📒 Kunikida find his way again. He will be near you. Guiding you. He will help you to become perfect. Ideal.
_____________________________________
You heard a notification sound. It seems, you should start doing your chores. At first, following a schedule was a little bit hard. But it does help you with managing your time.
Before closing the BSD Mayoi app, you looked at the note from Kunikida in the Gift box.
Earlier, you already got similar from Atsushi.
"[Y/N], I am glad that I managed to change you for a bit. And thank you, for showing me the way. Thank you for been with me when I was lost. I am forever in your debt. Doppo Kunikida"
There were a bunch of Light Evolution materials attached to the note.
So far you enjoyed this secret update with notes from characters. Notes were sweet. And, been a simple person and hearing nice words was pleasant.
Before logging out, you choose Kunikida's card from characters menu. You gently tap chibi Kunikida's sprite.
"Thanks for the gift, Kunikida. And thank you for been a good role model."
You didn't notice that sprite looked proud.
#bsd#bsd anime#bsd x gender neutral reader#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs au#Self-AwareAU#Self-AwareBSD#bsd kunikida#kunikida doppo#Self Aware Kunikida Doppo#Self Aware Doppo#Self Aware Kunikida#gender neutral reader#Kunikida Doppo x reader#yandere
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Another Chotiner interview, another official makes an idiot of himself and lets on far more than he should have. I honestly don't know how Chotiner manages to do this again and again, have these people just not read any of his previous interviews? It's not like his questions are particularly pointed. I suppose he simply gives people enough rope.
What I’ve been struck by in the last few months is the willingness of the Biden Administration to be humiliated by the Israelis. And I’m not talking about this in a moral or ethical sense. Antony Blinken, the Secretary of State, takes a trip to Tel Aviv and the Israelis embarrass him by announcing land seizures in the West Bank during the visit. Stuff like this has happened multiple times. Or Netanyahu, responding to Biden saying he “has a red line” around Rafah, defies him publicly and even says he has his own “red line.” I’m surprised the Administration doesn’t have a little bit more pride. I keep thinking, even if they don’t want to change the policy, they must be having some sort of human reaction to—
Oh, I’m sure that’s right. When Bill Clinton emerges from his first meeting with Benjamin Netanyahu, in June of 1996, Clinton explodes: “Who’s the fucking superpower here?” James Baker banned Netanyahu from the State Department when he was deputy foreign minister. This is part of what I call the system, the structure of the U.S.-Israeli relationship.
Someone might say, “Why is the most powerful country in human history essentially taking orders from a country that relies on it for aid? What exactly is going on here?”
I’ve been looking at the U.S.-Israeli relationship for decades. I left the government in 2003, during the second Bush Administration. I’d been in government since Jimmy Carter. There was a time when someone could say with a straight face that the three ingredients that made the relationship were a high coincidence of values, a high coincidence of interest, and a strong base of domestic support. During the past fifteen to twenty years, many of which are under Benjamin Netanyahu’s purview as Prime Minister, the value affinity, the perception that Israel shares common values with us, is under more stress.
No President I ever worked for sought a major conflict or confrontation with Israeli Prime Ministers. They sought to manage rather than to confront. The practical reality is that if you want to get anything done, even if it involves tensions and pressure, you have to find a way to work with, rather than against, the Israeli government. My analysis has now been tested six months into the worst Israeli-Palestinian crisis that we’ve ever experienced.
I just worry about a situation where we throw up our hands and say, “Well, the United States, the most powerful country on earth, has no choice but to keep arming a country that’s starving people.”
But, Isaac, look, just between you and me—
It’s an interview, but sure.
The question is: why? I’ve offered you the best explanation based on literally twenty-seven years of watching and participating in the U.S.-Israeli relationship. I can’t explain it. I think your question is a really good one.
[...]
You’re saying you have no investment in one analysis or another. I could be wrong, but when I was listening to you talk, and you discussed the horrors of October 7th, I sensed an emotion in your voice that I haven’t heard at any other time in this conversation. I don’t want to criticize that, but I do wonder if the people who make policy in America don’t have that same emotion when it comes to Palestinian lives. Do you think that’s fair?
I think it’s fair to say, yes, that America and Americans have a pro-Israeli sensibility. I don’t think there’s any question about that. Clinton wrote in his memoir that he loved Yitzhak Rabin as he loved no man, rarely loved any other man, which is extraordinary. I watched Clinton grieve in the wake of Rabin’s murder. And when Biden gave the speech on October 10th, you watched the tears well up in his eyes. He talked about the black hole of loss. He’s conflated the tragedies in his own personal life with what Israelis felt on that day.
Yes, that’s very moving, but there is another kind of loss going on now which he apparently can’t conflate with his own experience.
Oh, if you’re asking me: Do I think that Joe Biden has the same depth of feeling and empathy for the Palestinians of Gaza as he does for the Israelis? No, he doesn’t, nor does he convey it. I don’t think there’s any doubt about that.
Christ.
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The core defining feature of capitalism is that it is fundamentally anti-democratic. Yes, many of us live in democratic political systems, where we get to elect candidates from time to time. But when it comes to the economic system, the system of production, not even the shallowest illusion of democracy is allowed to enter. Production is controlled by capital: large corporations, commercial banks, and the 1% who own the majority of investible assets… they are the ones who determine what to produce and how to use our collective labour and our planet’s resources.
And for capital, the purpose of production is not to meet human needs or achieve social objectives. Rather, it is to maximize and accumulate profit. That is the overriding objective. So we get massive investment in producing things like fossil fuels, SUVs, fast fashion, industrial beef, cruise ships and weapons, because these things are highly profitable to capital.
But we get chronic underinvestment in necessary things like renewable energy, public transit and regenerative agriculture, because these are much less profitable to capital or not profitable at all. This is a critically important point to grasp. In many cases renewables are cheaper than fossil fuels! But they have much lower profit margins, because they are less conducive to monopoly power. So investment keeps flowing to fossil fuels, even while the world burns.
Relying on capital to deliver an energy transition is a dangerously bad strategy. The only way to deal with this crisis is with public planning. On the one hand, we need massive public investment in renewable energy, public transit and other decarbonization strategies. And this should not just be about derisking private capital – it should be about public production of public goods. To do this, simply issue the national currency to mobilize the productive forces for the necessary objectives, on the basis of need not on the basis of profit.
Now, massive public investment like this could drive inflation if it bumps up against the limits of the national productive capacity. To avoid this problem you need to reduce private demands on the productive forces. First, cut the purchasing power of the rich; and second, introduce credit regulations on commercial banks to limit their investments in ecologically destructive sectors that we want to get rid of anyway: fossil fuels, SUVs, fast fashion, etc.
What this does is it shifts labour and resources away from servicing the interests of capital accumulation and toward achieving socially and ecologically necessary objectives. This is a socialist ecological strategy, and it is the only thing that will save us. Solving the ecological crisis requires achieving democratic control over the means of production. We need to be clear about this fact and begin building now the political movements that are necessary to achieve such a transformation.
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It won't let me edit this ask so...reposting it
I feel really bad for not answering this sooner. You probably found a way to persuade your brother or u gave up. At the end of the day Israel's modus operandi is to kill a thousand Palestinians for one israeli. So truthfully there is no palestinian resistance that would prevent a catastrophic loss of life. Israel's method to slow support for armed resistance is to target and massacre the non combatants (ie collective punishment). That's precisely how they will always respond to armed resistance. For example armed operations in the west bank often take place at checkpoints. One palestinian will shoot a soldier and the IOF will invade the village the resistance member hails from and shoot everything at sight. Does that mean u should give up arms to save ppl that might be killed because of your actions? That's the fear that Israel wants to instill
These resistance groups and hamas knew the israeli response would be brutal but they took a chance bc ultimately gaza was under siege and frankly we always knew that Israel put gaza under siege so that when they invade and recapture gaza its "easier" to do so because the people were already in a water/food/ infrastructure crisis. I can imagine ppl saying "I believe that Palestinians have the right to resist but shouldn't they be smarter bc gaza is blocked on both sides" and not to be repetitive but what are they supposed to do when there is not an outside hand breaking the siege. We compare palestine to other occupations and invasions (Algeria, Vietnam etc) in history and yes settler ideology is the same but its new territory bc today's war technology is unlike anything we've seen and it's all tested on palestinians, so we're at a moment in history where we are witnessing a militant group made up of occupied ppl who have to keep resisting and finding weaknesses in this insane military power. If that makes sense? Theyre showing us what will be needed to prevail against these dystopian power imbalances. That's why ppl r saying that palestinian liberation is "the tip of the spearpoint" for all liberations.
I think of basel al araj who pointed out that jenin has very few settlements around them bc they're the most militant city whereas villages like mine are being eaten away by settlements bc historically we have never been a village that has been a center for armed resistance. It's all about perspective. "Palestinians lost all their land bc they weren't strategic about their armed resistance" or "palestinians still exist on the land bc they keep resisting" and the latter is better and less defeatist in my opinion. It's not like if palestinians put down arms israel will stop colonizing. They will continue to expand and kill palestinians regardless
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help me help my cat
EDIT: THIS HAS BEEN FUNDED! THANK YOU SO MUCH.
As you may know I had an expensive unforeseen doctor visit recently involving travel to see a doctor out-of-state that I took a great deal of commissions to cover, meaning that I'm now fully booked up to the end of October. This was the latest in an ongoing series of financial emergencies as I enter my second year of trying and failing to find a full-time job that will pay a living wage, including an unforeseen cross-state move, multiple medical emergencies in myself, my mom, and my cat, and car maintenance issues including me being involved in a minor hit-and-run. I have been doing my best to stay afloat with commissions but am booked to the gills.
If I was now experiencing any emergency that affected only myself I would not be here begging and humbling myself yet again, but this one pertains to my cat. Some of you may know that I have a sixteen year old cat with cancer, who has repeatedly faked me out thinking she was on deaths doorstep. Several months ago I was convinced she was going to need euthanasia, only for a new course of treatment to suddenly right the ship once more in what I can only describe as a minor miracle. Unfortunately she has complicated the situation again, and it appears to be time for me to make a difficult decision.
While she is technically in hospice care, she has an ear infection, and I have a choice before me: I feel I must try to treat this and see if she bounces back, because her only notable bad symptoms are pain and a sudden loss of balance and our initial "wait it out and treat the symptoms" approach that her vet suggested given her precarious situation did not yield the results we'd hoped. She needs actual treatment of the ear infection, but there's also a chance that even with it, this is the end of the line for her, as the balance issues may be neurological instead.
The cost to have her seen by a vet will be substantial, as she must receive home visits. She has to be sedated at the vets office otherwise and her frail health precludes her from being sedated at the moment. I am looking at probably around 300 dollars for an in-house visit to reassess her ears and have them re-treated.
If the ear infection treatment does not restore her balance, then we will be looking at an at-home euthanasia cost of almost 600.00 for the cheapest, no-memorial option. I am very prepared for the idea that I will need to cover both of these expenses within the week, and this is my current bank balance:
Yes, that's the negatives.
My mother has also had several emergencies and cannot help.
I have exhausted all my savings after this year of unexpected expenses and cannot in good conscience take more commissions. I already owe backlog of one commission type (chibi sketches) from months ago during the last crisis which I'm slowly working through and have regular commissions completely full. I have no esks or stygians left to sell except for founder and socket, which I am considering.
I will be selling a special semi-gacha but otherwise I have no recourse available to me but to humbly, once again, ask for donations.
I have nothing to offer in exchange this time but my gratitude for your patience and generosity.
If you'd like to help me with the cost of caring for my cat, my PayP.l for personal donations is [email protected] and my V.nmo is $rejamrejam
I am sorry I keep asking. I wouldn't if it was for me, but it's not for me, it's for my cat.
#ebegging#i am so sorry#i wont after this#i have a rotten tooth and another car emergency but i dont care#its just for the cat
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Having an entertaining, low-key Shivadh Saturday around here today. One of the subplots of Royals/Ramblers involves some light underwater archaeology, but Monday doesn't want to dive while she's pregnant, so Michaelis volunteers to let her train and direct him, diving in her place. He's just come up from his last practice dive in the harbor, and it's time to break for lunch...
"The gossip about these lessons is very funny," he added, nodding subtly at a man with his phone out, clearly trying not to seem like he was taking their picture. "Your brother sends me regular reports of my fame, you know. Lately it's half wild speculation about why you and I are spending so much time together and half amusement that I've decided to take up extreme sports late in life."
"Nothing salacious, is there?"
"Well, salacious, yes. Malicious, I don't think so," he said. "Nobody takes that kind of thing seriously, or if they do, the palace finds a way to deal with them. I've found that, once you cross fifty, you are assumed to be in a mid-life crisis until you die, so someone's always imagining that I've lost my senses. Currently, the question is whether the mid-life crisis is the scuba diving or the imagined affair."
"What a soap opera that would be," Monday said. "In this scenario are you also secretly the father of my child?"
"Naturally. The whole surrogacy is just a ruse to cover it up."
"Scandalous. I guess it speaks to your character that a lot of people think your idea of a mid-life crisis is diving, though," she said.
"Well, most of them have met me," he said. "Aside from driving too fast and always thinking I know best, my sins are few and mild. And I would put up with a great deal more aspersions on my character," he added, "for both the pleasure of your company here and the eventual grandchild. Although if it bothers you, you should tell Theophile, he'll put Comms on it."
"Nah. I never really hear much about it," she said, as they reached land. There was a little bank of outdoor storage chests, mainly for the few boaters who used the pier; he began packing the equipment into one of them, slipping some sandals on while she continued. "And I'm used to it from my surf days. Not exactly this, obviously, but when you reach a certain level in any sport, as a woman, people start to insinuate things."
"Unconscionable," Michaelis said, locking the trunk closed. "Unfortunately also a reality of life -- every few years, when the news cycle was slow, there'd be some ass who'd dig out a photograph of me with a random woman at a party and claim I was running around on my wife. It used to bother Gregory. Miranda found it uproariously funny."
"What about you?" she asked, and he was quiet for a moment as they continued walking.
"It never really registered, I think. Some things did, some things I took very personally, but that always felt so childish. I couldn't take it seriously. May we all be so blessed, eh? Given the lives we lead."
"Before you guys came to visit, our dad said to me that Ed doesn't look super far forward into the future," Monday said. "Dad wasn't sure Ed understood how huge a commitment he was making. Not like a two-year Eat Network contract, was how he put it. Ramblers do tend to live in the moment, but when he said that I thought, well, that won't be me. I might not have a life plan or anything but I know the proportions of the promises I make. Now...maybe I should have taken a long look at myself, too."
They'd reached the curve of footpath that would lead them around the Maritime Academy's building, to the little grassy area with tables and benches; he paused, glancing out at the harbor and then back at her.
"You know, you're well liked here," he said. "Not just by us, the family I mean, but by the town. It seems like you've made friends, too. I don't know that it needs to be said, but in case you weren't aware, you'd be welcome if you wanted to stay. You'd have a place here. Not as the..." he gestured dismissively, "queen mother, or royal surrogate, or whatnot, but purely as Theophile's sister. If you wanted. No pressure," he added with a smile.
"I knew, but it's nice to hear," she agreed, leading him down to the tables, setting the bag on one of them. "It's not...in the plan for me, I think, but if I did want to stay, I'll keep it in mind."
"Do. And now, let's see what Simon has sent us for lunch -- ah, excellent," he said, fishing a pair of plastic containers out of the bag. "Cold curried chicken or roast beef sandwich?"
"Split 'em?" Monday suggested.
"Won't help the rumors," he said, smiling, but he took half the sandwich when she offered, scooping half the chicken into her container with a suspiciously sporklike object from the bag.
A picture of them having lunch together did make the gossip blogs the next day. Monday, lying in bed next to a still-sleeping Georgie, took a screenshot of the photo and clickbaity headline and sent it to him without comment.
His response came back a few minutes later. Our union can never be. A fish and a bird might fall in love, but where would they build a home?
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Dragging myself through the WIP trenches, waving sadly at my words hoping they return safely from the war, y'all. One of those kinds of weeks. But! Luckily I'm sitting on a few banked rival bakers snippets so until the weary muse returns:
“This does not ‘butter my biscuit’, what are you talking about you absolutely unhinged human being? I don’t even want to know what you mean by ‘it could be worse’.”
“I mean that he could not be a total babe. He could not have forearms that look like they could strangle a snake and then gently pet a newborn puppy. He could have been a total asshole about the fact that you two totally fucked and you couldn’t be bothered to remem—”
“ —okay, yes, thank you. I said I didn’t want to know, remember?”
“Seriously though, Alex,” June says as she comes out of the bathroom, one hand twisting her hair off her neck and into a black hair clip. “I’m failing to see what the huge, world-ending, crisis-having, please-drive-back-from-Boston problem is.”
“You mean other than the fact that this stupid fucking French bakery is going to put mom and dad out of business?!” It comes out so much harsher than it should, and he sees a sting of pain flash in June’s eyes. It wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t her responsibility, and Alex knew both of those things. He was just so fucking frustrated, double so because now it was also sprinkled with a light dusting of feeling like a total fucking douche.
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “That wasn’t fair, I’m just…UGH,” Alex groans and falls face-first onto the cushion next to the one he’s sitting on. He screams, an animal sound that comes from somewhere deep in his gut. “They’re not even fucking French!”
Tags below the cut, my doves, and don't forget to tag me back so I can read all the gorgeous words yall are creating right now!
@affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @firenati0n @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lizzie-bennetdarcy-afterdark @myheartalivewrites @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes
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the absolutely most chaotic modern steddy hands au i can imagine is established couple ed and izzy with recently out divorce attorney stede.
like, izzy and ed got married young. maybe because they were drunk in vegas. maybe for the spousal immunity since they are and always have been involved in some less than reputable dealings. but they aren't exactly a "real" married couple in their own minds even tho they live together and their lives are needlessly intermingled.
ed is going through his midlife crisis. he's unhappy, wants to find out that there's more to life. and izzy is done with his shit after the most recent flight of fancy. because i love irony, i think that he buys a boat and comes up with some flimsy justification for why he needs it for "business purposes."
and so izzy threatens divorce, like he has a million times. and ed doesn't buy it because izzy is all talk. but izzy is serious this time - or at least he wants ed to think he's serious - and so he goes and hires a lawyer. not some bus stop lawyer either, no. he wants the real deal and his name is on the joint account, dammit, so ed's money can pay for it too.
enter stede bonnet, divorce attorney at law.
stede is from one of those old legal families. his father was a lawyer and his grandfather was a lawyer and his great-grandfather was... well, you get it. and stede doesn't really want to be a lawyer, but he doesn't have much choice in the matter. his biggest rebellion is practicing family law instead of becoming in house counsel for an investment bank.
for forty-odd years he plays the part of the good son, well after his father is dead. marries the girl he is supposed to, has two kids, a nice house, a steady job. and sure, he's never really happy happy, but he's a divorce attorney! every day he sees marriages so much worse than his own that he figures what he and mary have must be the best a person could hope for.
until woops! actually, no! his marriage is just as bad as half his clients' and now he's going through this whole process himself and oh, yes, on top of it all, he just realized that he's gay!
so between chauffeuring the kids, reading about all the gay culture he's missed in the past four decades, and catching up on his other cases, he ends up meeting one izzy hands. sad case, stede hates to see the end of a long marriage, but it seems easy enough.
except things aren't easy at all because 1) izzy and ed don't actually want to get divorced and 2) stede is starting to fall for ed, izzy's enigmatic and charming husband.
ed is falling for stede, too. of course he is! stede is interesting and new - he comes from this old family tradition that ed's never seen before, but he's also creative and witty and fascinated by ed. and so ed takes it upon himself to help introduce stede to gay culture, preferably by a hands on demonstration.
izzy knows what's going on. of course he does. he's seen ed take interest in someone before, knows what it looks like. but what he doesn't like is that stede is starting to return his interest. stede is izzy's fucking lawyer. if anyone should get to fuck him, it should be izzy.
cue a series of rom-com style hijinks where ed and izzy are both trying to seduce stede, stede is trying to save izzy and ed's marriage, and all three of them think they know what the others want. for more angst and more comedy, you can throw in some actual ethical rules, like how lawyers aren't supposed to start fucking their clients. (there's also a lot of conflict of interest here but shhhhhhhh)
of course, this ends in a throuple. exactly how could go a few ways. maybe izzy walks in on ed and stede and stede is waiting to be fired, but izzy just loosens his tie and joins them in bed. maybe they make it all the way to the first court appearance and when the judge asks if they really want the divorce they're like, nah. he's shagging the lawyer but i guess i want to be fucking him too. maybe stede forces them all to go to lucius sponsored couples counseling and they get perma-banned when they start making out on the couch.
anyway, no matter how it happens, i think stede quits divorce work to become izzy and ed's criminal defense attorney and they all have a long and morally bankrupt good time together
#steddy hands#steddyhands#is it one word or two???#izzy hands#i just think it would be funny your honor#ofmd#our flag means death#trying out just posting ideas that i wont actually execute#bonus points if izzy and stede actually meet before izzy hires him#like stede fucks up his car or smth and izzy meets him at the side of the road and is a real dick about it#and then shows up at the office like 45 min later to hire stede#the revenge crew all works for the firm in this#in varying roles#like i think that jim would be the pi#oluwande is the paralegal#roach runs the cafe in the building#frenchie would be better at the front desk but buttons would be so much funnier#ed this whole time is just making stede's job harder but more fun#stede: i am representing your husband in the divorce and i need to go over some papers with you#ed: okay i will meet with you but only at 8pm at a queer bar
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In the "urban vs rural debate" that plays out in the United States, most participants simply do not know what to say about small cities. I'm talking about cities with large percentages of people of color, dense downtowns, redlined areas trapped in cycles of poverty (banks did this everywhere and not just large cities), white flight, racialized "big city" stereotypes, gentrification and displacement... That also wouldn't even show up on Google Maps if you panned out to the state level, and are conceptualized on a national level as hicks. And indeed the suffer from the opioid crisis, factory closures, and other issues associated with "small town America." If you're wondering whether they experience "urban poverty" or "rural poverty," the answer is just "yes." And that for some reason seems to break people's brains.
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Okay so I really need someone, anyone, who happens to be attending the lost in the jungle fan meeting for The Sign, to get video of Babe singing and dancing to ‘I’m a Slave 4 U’. Okay? Because like, a Britney song with huffing and puffing plus the way that boy can move his hips!? Like dude, I need to see this! Also ‘Prise is going to be singing ‘A Thousand Years’ I mean, come on! He and Heng didn’t even get to share a scene in The Sign but I’m still holding out they get to act together again, my heart!!! 🥲🥲
I would get live streaming tickets but firstly, I am broke, super broke. To be completely transparent, I actually have to go to the food bank 3 times a month because I cannot afford to pay both rent and buy groceries, damn cost of living crisis! So yeah, no live stream tickets for me. My cards are maxed out and I’m eating once every two days, so tickets are not something I can afford currently. And secondly, they’re not showing the damn special episode during the live stream! They’re holding it back, which is unfair. Even if I had the money, I wouldn’t buy a ticket just because of that alone. Yes, I wanna see the concert but what I really wanna see is the damn episode!
Anyway, yes. Video of Babe and Surprise’s performances, please and thank you! 🙏
#the sign the series#the sign: lost in the jungle#babe tanatat#surprise pittikorn#tw: ed#tw: poverty
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If he wasn't heir to the Camorra, what job do you think Santino would've chosen to do? And how would he meet John under those circumstances?
Oooh interesting question!
Hmmm... there are some options for sure!
So my first idea is...
Something in art museum, now that would be just like his childhood dream coming true. Even if he wasn't in Camorra, his family would still be into all that art (idk why, every rich family is into that, at least in movies 💀). So, um, whatever they do in those museums, he would like to do that (except being a security guard...). He would meet John kinda by accident there. OH WAIT I JUST GOT IDEAS!
First idea, John applying for a security guard, and he spotted Santino since he couldn't find anyone else to ask about that. So, like Santino explains everything and gets him there where he needs to apply and is like, "I'll be seeing you more often then." Because yes, they will be seeing each other more often.
Second idea is, John just coming there since lately he got interested into art and yk, wants to look at art and Santino spotted him, like really fucking handsome tall guy and he has to take his chance a little. "What is a guy like you doing here?" And he realizes that it sounds a bit wrong, "I mean, you know, a handsome guy like you. Not... not in a bad way." He's awkward. But John would just laugh a little at that and explain.
Okay, next job option, since he's bossy and is pretty good at controlling people... management in crisis situations. Okay, this is something I was also kinda looking for while thinking what colleges I should be looking at and I kinda liked the sound of it (but I'll be going to multimedia production, TV stuff, hopefully). And I think he would be really good at helping and controlling people when accidents or crises caused by nature occur or by human activity. Ofc he can't really be bitchy in those situations BUT he can control people, and he likes it. I mean, he's helping people, so he feels good about it. John is either another person working there, although not in the same group as him and they end up helping people together. OR, John was the one that got hurt in any kind of accident and Santino helped him :>.
I also think he would be really good as a broker. I'll quote from Google what broker is, don't let my economic school know that I still didn't quite learn what that is 💀🤫: "Brokers manage various business deals such as investments, real estate, or insurance within the finance and banking industries. Brokers act as a liaison between parties, create and maintain relationships, administer sales, and perform administrative tasks. And manager of a hotel." Yeah, he's kinda giving me that vibe :P. How would he meet John there? John would be his client... a very special client 😏
Speaking of manager of a hotel- he's also giving me a vibe of being a hotel manager. Like... imagine... BIG ASS FANCY HOTEL BY HIM. Manager Santino D'Antonio at your service✨️ John is a guest... a special guest 😏. Maybe he's there because of some business and needs the managers help. And yeah... they get closer to each other, yk 🤭
There are probably some more jobs that would fit him, but these are some I could think of rn :P
Thank you so much for this ask, I really enjoyed this! 💙💙💙💙
#santino d’antonio#santino d'antonio#john wick#john wick x santino d'antonio#these sound like fun AU's :3#hmm maybe I'll even write about few#Santi as a hotel manager >:]#this was so fun to write abt thank youuuuu <3#feel free to ask me anything more :3
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