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iamdarkness · 3 years

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To Feed a Tiger. Forces of Will.3

Chapter 3

Alfonse x Summoner, Alfonse X Summoner X Lif

And one sided (as of now) Dimitri X Summoner X Alfonse X Lif

Triggers for talk about mental health. It is Feral Dimitri after all. Mentions of death and depressive thoughts.

Sexual Harassment and maybe more than that.

Incest. (Freyr and mentions of Freya). Rater R for a little graphic scenes of battle and character death. Nothing we have not seen in the game itself.

-Hrid…- You hear Sharena say under her breath and it feels like all the happiness has been drained from her voice. Of course she would feel sad. Her big brother meant so much to her and seeing him suffer would make her suffer as well. They were so close. He was her best friend, confidant, protector and hero. Watching him so defeated had been a shock and more so that she herself had not reacted fast enough to prevent this. In a way she felt responsible as well.

-Summoner _______. Princess Sharena. Heroes. It is a pleasure to be your guest again.- Hrid says when he is close enough to take your hand and Sharena’s. His hand lingers on yours and you take it back to take Princess Laegjan’s.

- It is indeed as King Hrid has said, a pleasure to be here again.- Laegjarn says as she takes your hand and Sharena’s, her piercing red eyes watch you searchingly.

You greet them equally and introduce your heroes by name and title. You will not have them be nameless heroes to no one. They deserve to be treated, like the heroes that they are. As if sensing your unrest and because he has dreamed of your pain Freyr comes and stand by your side . He blocks Hrid from getting too close to you. You hear young Claude snicker behind you.

-How was your trip to the beach Summoner? I would have liked to come sooner so we could meet you there, but we had a little delay.

- It was great! We even had a sand castle contest and a nice nap.

-They even got a great tan!- Said King Claude nodding to Freyr in particular and you turn to give him a fake angry look. You notice he is watching Alfonse and he winks at him. Alfonse looks like he understands something unspoken.

- I will cherish mine. It was a wonderful and invigorating nap.- Says Lord Freyr to bring attention to his chest and he “looks” sideways to smile at you.

- I can’t say the same about mine my Lord! It stings a lot!- You tell him smiling.

- Yeah we got the wrong lotion, so now we need to go to the infirmary to get fixed up.- Said Sharena sheepishly. You notice Alfonse and Hrid are looking at Freyr’s bare chest. They can clearly see the white mark of your arm on it. Hrid looked a little scandalized and Alfonse… he looked amused. He looks sideways at Hrid.

-Is that…?

-Oh it’s my hand. I kind of hugged him while I was sleeping. Now if you all don’t mind. We need to get to the infirmary. I’ll see you all at the meeting.- You say and leave with the rest of your group to the infirmary. You hear Alfonse talking to Hrid.

-Everyone loves our Summoner. Some more than others and in different ways.- And there is a hint of humor in his words. <<At least he is having fun.>>

~*~

The meeting lasted three hours. Besides the heroes Anna had asked to attend, you had asked Hero King Marth, who was the oldest of the Marths and with more experience, Micaiah, King Claude and Lord Freyr. You were sitting between the former two. They had sat themselves with you in between before Hrid had claimed the chair next to you. You had seen Claude talking to Alfonse and thought they had a plan to distract Hrid or may be just make him re think his life. There was no announcement about the engagement, but Hrid said the royal ball that was supposed to take place in two wees was pushed back for two months. This would give them all time to prepare and gather more information.

- I also hope that by then it will be two good news to announce and not just one.- He tells you and Fjorm when the meeting was over. You feel Fjorm’s cold hand take yours and give it a squeeze.- Dear summoner, would you be so kind to sit by my side at dinner? I would very much like to talk about some important things with you.

-Sure.- You agree to it because, you want him to give you a reason to tell him you are not interested. Alfonse and Fjorm did not sacrificed themselves, for this man to think you are going to fall at his feet after a dinner. Besides, you were sure Claude and Alfonse were planing something and you trusted them. You turned to Fjorm and winked to let her know you got this. She blushed at this.

Once at dinner you do sit by his side. Commander Anna is sitting at the head of the table.Alfonse is sitting about three chairs from you, between Fjorm and Sharena. The chair next to you is the other head of the table and it is still empty. Suddenly, you see F Dimitri come inside the dinning hall. He seldom comes in here and you signal for him to come and sit by your side. He complies. Claude and Freyr sit on the chairs in front of you and Hrid.

Dimitri was dressed in a dressy black suit with blue cape that Forest had designed for you to give him. His hair was up in a ponytail.

-Dimitri. You look so handsome! Did you like the clothes?

-Thank you _______. I…they feel comfortable.- He says and his face is crimson red.

All through dinner Freyr and Claude kept on talking to you and taking your attention from Hrid. Claude was blatantly flirting and Freyr...you were looking at a different side of him, to be sure. It must have been because as someone who could be in your dreams, had the ability to see things others didn’t and know things about you that no one else understood, but he got your sense of humor. Something even Alfonse had, had trouble to adjust to, not understanding your references and knowledge. You had to read his same books to be able to make new references and jokes. After years of being together he had taken your humor and understood what you meant and some of the heroes even used your slang. Freyr was different. He knew stuff and he used the obscure references to make you laugh and it gave the conversation a more intimate feel.

Still you were giving Dimitri all the attention you could because he was important to you and wanted to make him feel that he was cared for.

-We should go to the beach tomorrow and make it a drink contest.- Says Claude smiling at you.

-Oh my Lord give me patience! I am not taking you to get drunk Claude. I have never seen you drunk, but let me tell you; you do not need it.

-I can not give you patience child. Only good dreams and many children.- Lord Freyr says smiling at you. Hrid stops eating to look at him. You notice Claude and Dimitri are doing the same. You laugh at it. You keep forgetting he is the god of fertility as well. Freyr turns to them and says amused.

-I am the god of dreams and fertility. Do you want my blessing?- He turned his closed eyes at Claude who laughed out laud and bring his hands off in a guarding motion.

Everyone seemed to breath again.

-Wait have you given ______ your blessing?- Claude asks and winks at you. You feel your cheeks heat up.

-I would give her, as many children as she desires.- He answers Claude. The wording is very on purpose and it seems it is not lost on the people sitting at the table. You hear Hrid chock on his food.<< Oh God! What are these guys doing!?>> You spy a look at Alfonse and he looks amused if not a little red faced and concerned, but amused non the less. You give Hrid your glass of water to drink and wait to see if he needs you to perform the whatever maneuver. He drinks the water and start breathing right. He thanks you with a blush to his cheeks. He looks mortified about the incident.

-Yes Claude. I’ll be having thirteen children.- You say the first number that comes to your mind.

- I’m going to need a bigger table at home then.- His eyes twinkle with mischief.

-You better. My whole soccer team and I will be visiting you often.- You hear sounds of laughter coming from various sides of the table.

-Hey! I meant children with my beautiful green eyes.- He wiggles his brows.

-Well you better start looking for a wife then, because those are a lot of kids to have. You better start soon.

-That is so mean!- He says fake hurt, dramatically touching his heart.

-You gave Dimitri your blessing.- Dimitri says suddenly, breaking the conversation and looking at Claude in a cold and annoyed manner. He is asking Freyr about baby Dimitri.

-May he never lack good dreams. They are the rest of the mind and the refuge of the soul.

-God, that is so true. I’m tired of dreaming of going to battle and finding my self back in school butt naked - You hear a noise like someone almost spit their drink. Hrid by your side actually laughs.- or zombies in the battlefield eating my heroes. The living dead. - You elaborate after you see Hrid’s confused expression.

-Are you afraid of school and the risen?- Asks Hrid trying to catch your attention away from Freyr and specially Claude.

-Heck no! Zombies are rotten corpses that eat the living like wild rabid animals. I used to watch a lot of moving pictures about them before coming to live here. I’m cool with risen. I even like the red eyes. I like red eyes. They’re kind of sexy, depending of whoever has them.- Of course you are talking about Lif.- And school…I mean…the bad part is finding yourself butt naked in a public place.

-I wonder what that dream means if it is a recurring dream.

-I think it means…- You get cut short by the conversation in the table next to yours.

-Oh You heard that Lord Corrin? The summoner finds red eyes sexy!- You hear Nile’s voice loudly tell Corrin.

-What the hell Niles! Why are you listening to my conversation?- You throw him your balled up napkin. He only laughs. Corrin who is sitting by his side, hits him with his elbow. You hear an “Ouch” followed by Niles laughing.

-Summoner you were talking loud enough for the whole kingdom. This makes you laugh too.

You look sideways at Alfonse who is talking to Fjorm. She seems to disagree with something he said, sighs and nods.

After a while when some of the heroes start to get up from the tables you hear Alfonse clear his throat. Claude is looking at him and you turn just in time to see Fjorm say something to Hrid.

-_______. Would you care to sing something for us?- Asks Hrid.

-Right now?- <<Are this guys trying to kill me of embarrassment?>>

-Yes _____! Sing that song you sing with the guys on campaigns! - That was Claude.- Make it to Freya like last time! You don’t mind, do you?- He asks Freyr. Freyr shakes his dead.

<<WTH is he talking about?>> there are many songs you like singing with the heroes when in campaigns by the fire light so you are kind of confused. He makes a gesture and you get it.

-Oh…Fine.- You agree mostly because that song does not need the best of voices. You lean in to talk softly to Dimitri.- Dimitri. It is going to get loud.- He nods at you like he is ready.- You look around and catch Shigure’s eye and signal to him. He goes pink but nods.

-When a humble bard…-There was a choir of whistles, “Yeah!”s and shouts.

Graced a ride along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song.

From when the White Wolf fought

A silver-tongued devil

Her army of elves

At her hooves did they revel . - Freyr does look entertained.

They came after me- Shigure stands and sings alongside you.

With masterful deceit

Broke down my lute

And they kicked in my teeth

While the devil's horns

Minced our tender meat

And so cried the Witcher

She can't be bleat

Toss a coin to your Witcher -Everyone starts singing. Hrid’s brows are knitted and he is looking around to see everyone singing. Even some of the heroes like Tibarn who had gone out had come back to sing.

O' Valley of Plenty

O' Valley of Plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty

(Rest of the verses here)

Toss a coin to your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty

O' Valley of Plenty, oh

Toss a coin to your Witcher

A friend of humanity X3 - You leave the last choir to Claude who has the perfect voice for the part. ( 1)

By the time you finish the song everyone starts screaming. You have no idea why they like that song so much but every time you all sing it; it feels like you are all pirates or something.

-Goddess! I love that song. For a minute I felt I was in a tavern somewhere in a town far away riddled with monsters and villains.- Says Claude.

-You mean Fodlan taverns anywhere?- Asks Dimitri. He sounds serious, but the gruffness of his voice is gone and it makes you happy to see him put the effort to joke around. Claude laughs out loud and can only nod to agree.

All around you could hear the heroes talking excitedly about one thing or another. Some where inviting others to the town tavern. Others like Lady Camilla is heard telling someone something like “We should dress like pirates next Pirate Festival dear!”.

-That was something, you don’t see every day.- Says Hrid smiling and he looks entertained.- You are something else summoner. Who is the Witcher?

-Freyr.- Says Claude at the same time that Freyr says your name.

- It is a story about a monster hunter called Geralt of Rivia, that is sent to fight a half goat or ram and half man who was helping some elves, who were the “terror” of the nearby towns. I changed it for Lady Freya and her dark elves, who we had to fight in our dreams some time ago, with the help of Lord Freyr. I say the Witcher would be Lord Freyr. He was the one who gave up his life to save us. I summoned him some time ago.- You raise your cup to him in a toast. He smiles at you.- Besides he has the long white hair and beautiful golden eyes.- Hrid looks at Freyr and Freyr opens his eyes to reveal his beautiful eyes. They are a liquid, luminous gold color. They glow as if with the light of liquid fire but not quite lava.

-I thought he was blind.- He says in wonder. You could understand him. Lord Freyr was a beauty to behold. Even in his animal form he was the most beautiful being you had ever seen. Even the ethereal beauty of Lady Freya was nothing compared to him. Everyone was either a little jealous of him, felt intimidated by him, or had a crush on him.

-Just sleeping. - Freyr says calmly.

-Talking about sleeping. I need to get the younglings to bed. Dimitri what are you going to do?

-Whatever you ask of me.- He says readily eyeing Hrid. He has noticed how clingy he seemed to be with you and he does not trust him.

-I would like you to come with me on my patrols tonight; if that is alright with you. -His brows furrow and he gives Alfonse a long look. Alfonse seems to be listening but avoids looking at you.

-I will come with you.

-Hey I thought I was coming with you my dear!- Says Claude.

-You can come to get the kids to bed if you want to. I am going to need a handsome prince for tonight’s fairy tale and Marth is busy.- You tell him teasingly. Hero King Marth who is walking by looks your way and blushes.

-That is so cruel.- He says and pouts.

-Summoner. I was wondering if you would like to take a walk with me in the gardens or I could take the watch with you.- Says Hrid.

-Omm, I really need to take Dimitri. There are things I would like to talk about with him, but if you do not mind you can come to story time and then take a walk. Since my prince charming is sulking right now. It looks like he does not want to cooperate.- You notice Claude is looking at Alfonse and you have this distinct feeling that surprises will keep happening before the night was out.

<<Seriously guys? Like my heroes need to be told to do weird crap.>>

Dimitri went to prepare for your watch together, but before he left, you saw him frown at Hrid who returned it with a cold look. This of course annoyed you to no end because no one treats your babies that way. You go to the living area where the children gather every night for a hero to tell them a tale. You do this twice a week, usually with Alfonse by your side. You really wanted to be petty and reenact Frozen with Hrid as the prince, but you remember Anna and Alfonse said to treat him right.

<<Fine>>

When you are done with the kids you and Hrid go take that walk in the garden and decide that if he starts coming on to you; you will have to nicely let him down. You are even waiting for the chance. You are sitting on a bench around the entrance that lead to the Eastern stables. Hrid has like the spot to take a rest and sit as close to you as possible. Lucky for you the hour was still early enough that many heroes are still around and you do not feel uncomfortable.

- The heroes are very fond of you _____. It is very impressive to see. I have been told so many things about you and I thought it would be impossible for someone to posses so many qualities like you; but I can see that not only are all of those rumors true…they do not make you justice . I can see what you do for the heroes and for the people. I was told you aided in a birthing yesterday.-You nod but say nothing when he keeps talking.- I remember the first time I saw you. You came to help heal me and ask if I needed anything. My sister Gunnthra was so fond of you. She believes you are destined to be part of our family. I can only agree with her good judgement.

- I feel very humbled by her favor towards me. I…- Just thinking about her, and her horrible demise brought tears to your eyes.- I wish I had, had more time to know her better. Sometimes… I wish I could see her in a dream and see her happy again. I also wish I could save Fjorm…from everything. -He looks moved by your statement but he has no idea that he is the one you want to save her from.

-It may do her good to spend a weekend at home. You could come and visit with her. It would bring us happiness if you did. It would make me very happy.- He says and takes your hand in his cold one.

-I think it would be good for her to do so, but I am afraid that as long as there is a war; my place is here and I can’t take more than a day off every week. You see…I…-There is a pause since you were distracted by someone walking on your far left, as if trying to not be seen.- Hey!! Valter? You are back!. What do you have there?- You get up and walk towards the tall man.

-A shake…- He says . He has heard you say that to other people jokingly. He is not turning around to face you and has something big on his shoulder.

- Valter?- He finally turns around and you see he is all bloody from a wound on his arm and leg. There are gashes as if from big paws.- Oh god Valter! You are hurt! Let me see! You’ve been gone for three days! I know you came early but look at you!

-I am fine summoner. I will go to the healers in a while. Here.- He lowers the thing he has been holding on his shoulder.- I gift you the man eater,that has been plaguing the villagers in the Western villages.- He places the mountain lion at your feet. His tall figure kneeling on one knee to better show his prey.

- A fine prey Valter. I could not have chosen a better hunter. -He smiles with pride. At first you and Valter had not see eye to eye, with his way of trying to make you be afraid of him and calling you prey. Alter he had a lot of talking to by Alfonse and Leon/ Fomortiis, you had come to an understanding and now It was a better relationship. You may not trust him as a person but you trusted him to be himself and now you had a better understanding of his motivations and personality. You also valued and respect his skills.- I thank you for an excellent job.- You take our your handkerchief and clean his mouth. It is dripping with blood and it is not his.

-Will you partake of it Summoner?- He asks lifting it up to his shoulder again.

-Of course, but only after it is cooked if you don’t mind. Are you going to skin it in the kitchen? -He nods- I’ll go take a look during my watch. Valter don’t eat it raw! Those cats have worms in their meat. - He nods and smears your cheek with blood. - Valter…- you whine at his retreating back. He gives a loud laugh.

- Was he drinking its blood?

- Yeah, probably.- You say whipping the blood off of your face.- I’ve told him not to eat it raw. I am afraid he is going to get sick in the long run, but he told me he was not going to live that long. Now I am seriously thinking of not returning him to his world… I’m gonna have to adopt him or something. - You notice now Hrid is looking at you a little open mouthed.

<<What did I do?>>

-Summoner!- You hear the shout of a familiar voice. You see a mop of white hair shinning bright in the light of the torches. His red eyes burning with annoyance.- Naga’s brat changed his patrol to be my partner. Did you allowed this?

-No Mr. Grima. I didn’t know about this. Which of them?

-The first one…the one from the river.- <<Oh Marth>> He says it pouting. You take his hand.

- Grima, dear. You have to understand that sometimes people may want to be your friend. Has he ask you about Robin?

-No. Never.

-See? He is not interested in returning Robin like Chrom wanted to, not only because he has never been friends with Robin before, but because he knows quite well there is only you in that body. What he wants is to be your friend. You see, like you; Hero King Marth was summoned after death. He will be staying here after the war, like you. I have talked to him already Grima dear. He has no evil intention towards you. He just wants to be your friend.- He looks to his side and thinks for a moment.

-Fine worm; but if he so much as thinks about “bringing back” Robin, I’ll eat him.- He is still kind of pouting and kind of bashful about it. You ruffle his hair playfully. He growls but lowers his head to rest on your shoulder.

-Come here you grumpy dragon. -You give him a hug.- Give the man the chance you gave me and Alfonse. And if he so much as hurt a single hair of my -You whisper so only he can hear- Baby dragon ( 2 )…I will personally behead him or something.

-Don’t call me that worm!- then he adds in a softer tone-…eat him…- He sounds angry to other people but you know him well. He does not move his head. You don’t know it, but he sends Hrid a venomous look.

-I’ll eat him whole Grima. He’ll make some great tacos or burgers, sausages…Ug! I grossed my self out now.- You say laughing. He gives you a low laugh as well.- I didn’t see you at dinner Grima.

-I was busy training.

-I know. Here if you go to the kitchen and get something to eat’ I’ll give you this candy…but don’t tell Gaius about it.- He lets go.- Oh Valter is there with this mountain lion he killed. We ate roasted beef.- He makes a face. He dislikes Valter and mountain lion.

-I don’t like mountain lion. Fine. I’ll eat him instead.- He says smirking and turning to leave.

-No Grima! You’ll get sick!- You say laughing hard. You know he is kidding.

-That…That is the Fell Dragon Grima?- Asks Hrid when Grima is gone. You nod smiling.- The terror and destroyer of the world?- He looked at your face and can almost see pride in them, like a mother showing off his child who has done something great. And of course you feel pride. Grima was loved and happy. He no longer wanted to avenge himself, he wanted to be loved and be accepted. This was a big win for you.

The rest of the walk is spend like this. You walk for a while and then a hero shows up and take your attention away from Hrid. He seems a little frustrated but at the same time, that look he gives you, like you are something precious does not fade from his eyes. It is the time for you to go and you are about to say good night when he asks something of you.

-This night has been wonderful. I have seen you work your magic and the more I see, the more I think you would be a great queen.

<<Oh crap!>>- I am just a regular person who wants what’s best for her people and home. -<<Yeah sound more patriotic why don’t you?>>

- I know. That is the reason. I - He makes along pause and seems to change his mind on what he wanted to say.- I know, I asked this of you before but, I really would like to hear you sing. Only this time. Would you sing a love song? What would you sing to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with?

-I really am not that great a singer. I just like music a lot and since I came here I lost my… music so I sing it, to not for get it… besides I…that is very personal.- You say uncomfortable. This was going sideways fast and you knew it.

-I understand. I also understand you do not know me enough to fall in love with me. You must know by now I wanted ask for your hand in marriage, but I will not push it. I just want to hear what Fjorm has heard. It would make me really happy.

You think about it and realize that how worst could it really get? It was not like you were going to accept him any way. -OK, let’s walk this way.- You tell him and start singing when you are almost under Alfonse’s balcony.

I say I'll move the mountains

And I'll move the mountains

If he wants them out of the way. -- It did feel like you had to move a mountain to reach Alfonse, when you had just met. Now

look at you now. You could barely part from each other.

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love, I say.

I say I'll go through fire

And I'll go through fire -- There are flashes of you fighting alongside Alfonse to beat Surtr.

As he wants it, so shall it be

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love, you see.

Like the wind that shakes the bough

He moves me with a smile -- Yo see him in your mind’s eye smiling that rare sweet smile he has only for a few precious people and you.

The difficult I'll do right now --Well you did gave him an army of heroes and manage it well.

The impossible will take a little while -- And you will end the war and win it for him.

I say I'll wait forever --You look up to his window. Up till now you had been looking at the starry sky but the light in his room had gone out. He was surely looking out the window.

And I mean forever-- That was your promise. You will wait for ever for him.

If I have to hold up the sky

Crazy he calls me

Sure, I'm crazy

Crazy in love am I

Crazy in love am I. ( 3)

Luckily Hrid had not been here long enough to know where your room or Alfonse’s room lay. He did not know he had witnessed your promise to him.

-That was beautiful. That song… I could imagine you fighting against Surtr…Saving my land and my people.

<< Oh Lord! You have to be kidding me. This is what he got from this?>>

-You have to remember your highness, that I was not alone and I did the least of the fighting. You have Alfonse to thank for that and The Order. -<<And your sister’s sacrifice…>>

- I was lost in the song I have to confess. You look so beautiful right now. It is easy to forget everything else.- He steps closer to you. You are hit with the urge t to step back, but you have to stand your ground.- _____ I want to get to know you better. I want to be more than just acquaintances. I want to be..

<<God I hope he says best friends! Why can’t someone just come and save me?>>

-...more than just your ally. I want to be there when you need me and be the one you can count on.

<< Sir you are describing Alfonse…>>

-Hrid. I appreciate the sentiment. It is always a good thing to get to know the people that are important in our lives. I do agree with that, yet I need to tell you; that with the war and all the work I need to do; I can not offer you more than friendship. My priorities..

-She tells us all the same thing. Can you believe that? So very cruel Summoner.- Says King Claude from behind you.- I apologize for the intrusion, but princess Sharena has need of your help. Delthea drunk a kettle of coffee and is now running around playing pranks on unsuspecting heroes. I think she hid in the tower. Also Dimitri said he will be waiting for you in the library in half an hour.

-Oh Lord! Hrid, please forgive me for leaving you. Delthea is a very powerful and very imaginative witch, I can’t have her do this at this hour.

-I understand completely ______. In fact I would like to be of assistance.- Hrid said eyeing Claude.

-That would be amazing. I just need to warn you about the consequences; but if you are alright with cat ears, be our guest. -Claude points to his head. Sure enough there lays a set of black velvety cat ears.

-Oh for God’s sake Claude! Wait. Is there a tail to match?…Oh what am I saying. I’m sorry Hrid. You better sit this one out. There are just so many guys with cat ears and tails I can manage in one night. I will see you tomorrow. Have a good night.

-As you wish. Good night and pleasant dreams.- You thank him and go away with Claude.

- You look so cute Claude.- You say and laugh.

-Mm interested in petting my ears _____?

When you two are far enough, Claude takes his fake cat ears off and meet up with Freyr and Delthea who is not really playing tricks on anyone.

- I almost didn’t make it. I apologize ______ . I did hear you tell him you are not interested. That is good. I don’t think it will stop him though. It feels like no matter what we do, he can’t seem to mind that the heroes flirt with you. I mean I understand. I see you do this every day. You care for everyone and they can’t help but adore you and I understand it quite well and it only makes me love you more.- He says it matter of fact like he is not baring his feelings in front of other people.

-Claude…

-I know ____. I should have considered it. He just looks so stiff, controlling, possessive and well cold, I thought he would find it uncomfortable. Make him re think his choice. I’m thinking even you telling him you are not interested in a relationship may be making him more persistent. Like whenever you tell Valter not to eat mountain lion raw…He already ate the liver by the way. I saw him a couple of minutes ago.

-What?- Face palm <<OMG Valter. I feel like I’m dealing with toddles!>>

-Well. It is done. We will see what we can do tomorrow.

-I suppose. - You start walking towards the library where Dimitri would be waiting for you, but make some space to talk to Delthea quietly. -Oh Delthea. Did you ever find out what the book was about?

-Oh…I did ask Alfonse but he could not open it. He asked me where I had found it and I showed him. He had never seen it or heard about it before. He did not tel me the exact translation, but said it was about the first King of Askr. I asked him if I could help him find out how to open it and he said it was fine by him, so as soon as the Ice King takes off we get to work. I also told him I wanted to help him with his project and I managed to convince him to let me help. Like you say: “ Two heads are better than one.” he just told me not to tell you. ______ he is very upset. I am worried about him. I mean if he asked Claude to help him it means he is very desperate. That man better leave tomorrow or I will bewitch his underpants to be itchy for a month! What?! I can guarantee you he will never know it was us. Just like the time I turned Lord Virion’s undergarments pink. -she giggles.

- Was that you? Oh my God. -Virion was still looking for the culprit.- Please don’t do that. I don’t need more trouble for the Order or Askr. We can leave it as last resort though; in case we can’t find a way to break the deal.- You tell her to settle her down. When you finally meet up with Dimitri, you notice he is talking to Freyr and offering him something. On a closer inspection you see it is one of the key pendants to the tree house.

- I can not guarantee you she will not follow in a way, but no one will be getting in there but you, _____ and I, so there will be less chance of someone spiking your drinks. I am taking dreamless sleep pills and can’t dream. She will not tempt me.

- I feel touched by your gesture. I will take you up on your offer if you are sure of it.

-I am. I thought about it. I figure it would be hard to return to your room.

-Then I will stay with you. Thank you. I will wait for you reading in the library until you are done with your patrol.

- You can join us, if that is your wish.- Says Dimitri. Freyr seems to be thinking about it.

-I thin it is better for me to wait here. There are books here I have never read before.

Claude says his goodnights and leaves. Delthea stays to tell Freyr about the awesome book she found and where she found it. You are crossing the door to the outer grounds to talk to the inner wall guards. It is half past midnight.

-Dimitri. What you did back there for Lord Freyr. I am really touched and thankful for it. I thought about changing his room, but you know how all the rooms are the same except for Alfonse’s and mine, so it would be all the same. I was thinking to take him to my room and sleeping on the study. I was sure he would not agree to that. Then I thought to let him stay in one of the rooms at the infirmary.

-I thought about it when you told me what had happened to him. I am sure it was much more serious than what you mentioned.

- It is. It is much more serious.

-He seems to feel safe around you.- <<As do I>> He thinks.

- I wish I could save him from her.- << I already watched him die once…I could not take it if he were to die again because I failed.>> You do not voice your fears with Dimitri. It is better for him not to trouble himself with your fears.- I could have offered to sleep with him, but even voicing this sounds bad. Askr is so very conservative. - <<Although…We could camp out in the tree house with Dimitri! Wait…that sounds like a threesome or better yet a “treesome”…Damn!>>- we could…- You get cut short by your messaging pendant getting too warm. Something is wrong. Then you hear someone shouting your name. It is Gordin.

-______!!! Lord Freyr told me to tell you the Elmblan Empire is crossing our borders! They are about to attack the keeps in the Northern towns. He saw it some moments ago and sent Delthea to tell Commander Anna.

-Thank you Gordin! Dimitri. I need to tell Alfonse and Sharena.

-I can tell the princess!- Says Gordin seriously.

-Thank you! Let’s go Dimitri.- You feel the pendant again. It was Anna. The message was to get ready.

You are running down the hall to Alfonse’s room when his door opens up. You see Hrid and Fjorm getting out of her room down the hall.

-Lord Freyr saw Embla crossing the Northern border and attacking the keeps.

-Let’s get ready. Inform the heroes on rotation. We will wait for you in the War room.- You nod and walk yo your room to get to the list in the study, but you get waylaid by Hrid and Fjorm who tries to persuade him to wait until they are called.

-Are we being attacked?

-Not ourselves. The keeps in the Northern border are about to be attacked. We will probably march in a while. I’ll keep you posted. I need to call my heroes on rotation.

You enter your room and then the study. You hear Dimitri say something and then shut the door.

-_______. I am not in rotation, but I want to fight. Is Lord Freyr fighting too?

-Let’s see. He is in rotation…but…

- Let him go. It will keep his mind off of his troubles. I will fight too and keep my eye on him.

-If you are sure; I’ll add you to the rooster.- You start sending the magic signals to the heroes in rotation and once you are done you take the list with you to the War Room. On your way out you see Fjorm and Hrid are meeting after preparing themselves to fight. They follow behind you to the War Room.

-Fjorm, you are not in rotation. You are part of the base defence today. You want to come with?

- Yes. I already changed my turn with Mathilda. Oh and I found Valter on the way. He said he will be ready when you are.

-He is not on rotation. In fact he was supposed to still be off today, but returned early…well I guess. He can come.

- What is this about rotation?- Asks Hrid. He is dressed in full armor and ready to go.

-It is the way to manage the heroes. One part fights, another part is left as reserves and the defence stays to defend the castle and the people of town in case there is an attack while we march off. The heroes change every battle. Right now we are about to see where we are about go and what we are about to do and decide if we need to do some changes in the groups. Just like the Royal army.

-You manage it all by yourself? Impressive.

-Well it is my job to get to know the heroes abilities and weaknesses . Then decide who works better in what situation and what they should be doing and who to send them with. You know, tactician’s planing. I make the suggestions and then Alfonse, who is the brain decides if the draft is right for what he thinks the enemy is doing and stuff. He’s a genius. Then Anna makes the final decision… but I mean I also like to have other opinions. Like Robin’s and Soren’s for example. It is all simple and regular army managing.

- Well. Not really. Remember when we fist met and you had suggested this to Commander Anna, because you were afraid someone would try attacking the castle when you were away, just like the time Embla had tried to destroy the Summoning Ruins? I also remember Anna apologized to you for not taking your suggestion of having a fire brigade before Surtr attacked into consideration. It was also your idea to make the Heroes their Order Cloaks to blend in with the surroundings and re designed the Regular Army’s new camouflage uniforms. The Royal Army even changed theirs as well! (4)

<< God Fjorm! Don’t help me look good now!>> Hrid looked impressed. Fjorm looks sorry.

-I saw the changes. I like the new uniforms and their usefulness. Amazing!

-Well none of those ideas are mine. I just took them from what the armies use in The World of Steel. I mean, sometimes Alfonse lends me his brain cells and I do come up with some good ideas, but mostly it is him doing the job. I just help along.- Fjorm laughs at this. She knows what you mean, but the two men look at you with different levels of confusion. You finally arrive to the War Room and after asking if you wanted him to wait outside, you let Dimitri stand by your side during the briefing. Fjorm had stood on your other side and signaled Alfonse to stand by her. After a moment she whispers a quiet “sorry” in your ear. She moves from between you two to go talk to Laegjarn. You can feel Alfonse’s hand lightly touch yours when she leaves. God! How you wanted to touch him. Hold his hand and disappear from the world.

Since Lord Freyr’s dream was a forewarning you had time to get to the site and wait for the enemy to attack. It would be an ambush. You fear you will have to spend the trip avoiding Hrid and stealing moments to talk to Alfonse. During the first part of the night when you were walking besides F Dimitri, you remember he had wanted to talk to you about something important.

-So Dimitri. What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?- Dimitri looked taken aback for a moment and then he looked around to see if anyone was hearing you.

- I…I have been watching Lif when he comes to watch you…- He says and suddenly you are attacked by the memories of your last encounter.- I apologize for not telling you directly…I did not know if he was real or not.

-Lif…-<< My Alfonse>> the thought passes your mind faster that lightning and you had no time to question it.- I… I can see why you would think that. He is… He looks so …-<<Beautiful>>- different. My regret. -You had know he had seen Lif. Of course you did, but you wanted to let him tell you in his own time after that one time he avoided the subject.

-I saw him go inside your window…I am sorry. I was not thinking strait. I let him in, not sure of who he was until you mentioned him. I just knew he loved you and he wanted to be near you… so I let him. I wanted to know what he would do. Understand him.

You lower your head before someone notices your watery eyes as they fill up with tears. Those words were breaking your heart… and now he was gone.

-Don’t worry about it Dimitri. I practically invited him. I also understand you… and I can see your instincts are working just fine. I trust them and I trust you. Besides. I wanted to see him so badly. I was not sure if he had survived and now I know he is…still fighting.

- You love them both…

- I… I do…Do you think me wicked?

- At first. When I did not know who he was. I understand now. Would you tell me how it went? All of it? I want to know about him.

- I don’t blame you for wanting to know. He is an interesting person. I mean, he is Alfonse but…They are the same, but different. Alfonse plays the violin you know. He plays like the angels in heaven…They are both violin music, but different pieces you see? Both highly intelligent and both seriously passionate in everything they believe and do…but like music Alfonse is intense but contained, controlled, like Vivaldi’s Winter And Lif is just as intense but unbound like Devil’s Thrill…Both beautiful to behold but …Oh crap I forgot you don’t know what I’m talking about. The music sound kind of like - You hum the music and explain the differences in rhythm and tempo. You look at him to see if he gets it and you see him smiling. You have never seen him smile.- Heh… I got a little carried away didn’t I?- He nodded.- Were you there when he left?

- Yes.

-I still have to tell Alfonse. I forgot to do so with the…arrival of our guests and everything else.-You backpedal to not tell him about the engagement.

-You will tell him? Everything?

- Of course. I don’t want to keep secrets from him. He knew what I was doing. That was the reason he was not home. We wanted to help him. We even had a plan on how to do so and…you saw. It all went sideways. Alfonse knew Lif would decline our offer, but I wanted to believe. I could not even tell him the plan… I felt so selfish asking him to stay.

- It would be painful to be around you and not be near…

- (sigh) yeah…and let’s not forget Sharena.- You start telling him how everything had started. How you all had thought he was the first king of Askr and then found out the truth. You tell him about Sharena’s flowers he had placed in that shine he had made. You tell him about your Summoner’s coat folded neatly among your favorite flowers. His parent’s crowns. How he had built the shrine because there was no bodies to bury and no tombs to take flowers to. You explained his plans and how he had changed his mind to help you. How he had been used like a marionette by Hell to kill you and how you had finished her with the his most precious possession. His Summoner’s Breidablik…you omit it was your own weapon or so you thought.

After a while there is a pause in the trek for rest and meals. By this time the sun was already coming up. While you are talking to the men,you are interrupted by Hrid who wants to be your guard during the battle.

- King Dimitri is her guard today. He is her support.- Says F Dimitri in his gruff voice. Hrid looks coldly back at him, and you sense he is about to retort. There is tension in the air and you have to intervene.

- I appreciate it and you are welcome to stay, but he is right, Dimitri is my baby sitter this time.

- I understand you already have your support, but it would ease my mind if I could stay by your side. This way I can protect you and observe the way you lead your men. If needed I will assist in battle of course and like I said before in the meeting; you can use my men as if they are your own. As I wish you will see them one day.

-I… Thank you your Highness…- Dimitri was scowling and you could tell he was beginning to get angry.

-Were we not on first name terms _____?

-I apologize for interrupting, but I was wondering if his Highness would help me out.- The voice came from behind Hrid. It was Charlotte. Her huge soulful eyes were fixed on Hrid.Her voice was all sweetness and her demeanor bashful and coy. To her side Groom Marth stood looking at Dimitri.- Your sister said you could help me.

<<Oh Thanks GOD! I could kiss Fjorm right now!>>

-Oh Hrid this is Lady Charlotte of Nohr. She is a trusted friend and ally.- It had taken a while to warm up to her after the incident with Alfonse. He had to explain to her, in the coldest of voices that he was not interested in her in any sort of way and that, what she was doing was harassment and it was punishable in Askr. Prince Xander had been called as well and he had been even less lenient. After working with her you found out she was actually pretty cool when she was not obsession with someone. You even gave her pointers on what she was doing wrong with guys. Everyone knows guys do not like desperate women and she radiated desperation.

-I would help her, but I am afraid I am not tall enough.- Says Marth. Hrid excuses himself and goes to help Charlotte. You can tell he is very annoyed by the redness on his cheeks and ears. Charlotte turns to you and winks. Marth gives you a small smirk and asks if he can talk to Dimitri. They both leave to where King Dimitri is waiting for them. As soon as they leave, you feel someone tap you in the back. You turn around and King Claude takes a finger to his closed mouth and signals for you to follow him.

- Please tell me I am not as persistent and annoying as that man!- He says in a quiet hiss. You walk a little into the wooded area by the road and see a figure dressed in white waiting for you.

-Thank you Claude. I owe you. And for the record. You are not annoying at all and I enjoy spending time with you.

-Then minutes Alfonse. Make the best of it.- Claude says and winks. You turn around and Alfonse is blushing.

He walks up to you and takes your hand. He says nothing but his eyes speak volumes. His other hand comes up to your face and caresses your cheek. You lean into his touch and close your eyes. He kisses your forehead and then embrace you. You circle his waist as he cradles your back and head.

Meanwhile King Dimitri, Savior King Dimitri and Marth are talking to Fallen Dimitri. F Dimitri had gone to ask them what was happening to you and what was the deal with the king of Nifl. K Dimitri and G Marth had weighted the options of telling F Dimitri what they knew. They decided to tell him about the treaty and that he should be patient and threat the King with respect so that Askr could gain the aid they will need if they were to be attacked by another kingdom. They will tell him about the engagement after Hrid leaves.

-Yes. Apparently he is interested in building a relationship ending in marriage with her, but we all know she is not interested in anyone but Prince Alfonse. Still, we have to be careful and polite with him.- Explains Marth.

-Fine ,but if he so much as breathes wrong, her way I will cut his head off.- He is about to go when he is stopped by his other self.

-It is not wise to project your feelings towards her. She will not return them. Better men than us have tried and failed. She wants only to help you and it will only hurt you both.- Says King Dimitri.

-I understand who her heart belongs to and I would not come between them.- He wondered if any of them had seen the way you looked at Lif, or had seen how much you love each other, or if they only knew about Alfonse. The way he saw it; he knew better than any of them who your heart belonged to. Divided as it was.

Dimitri found you talking to Alfonse just at the edge of the forest by the road you were taking; but he did not approached you. You were looking at a map, but seemed to be talking about something else. He spied Hrid talking to the blonde girl who wanted to marry a rich man. Her charms were being neglected by the prince who kept scowling and sending you furtive looks. Dimitri could hear you talking thanks to his finer sense of hearing.

-Can we talk about that after the battle?- You ask Alfonse. He scowls.

- What did he do? Did he hurt you?

-What? No! He refused our help, just like you said he would. He left…for good this time.

- There is more.

-We should focus on the battle ahead. I don’t want to mess up something important because our head is in another matter.- Alfonse closes his eyes. He is loosing his patience and probably thinking there was something worst than what actually happened. You sigh.- I wanted to wait until later to tell you. The truth is just that, he refused our help, said he could never be my friend and that even if he agreed to be helped, he doesn’t believe we can help him. He showed me his face…then kissed me. - Alfonse palled and rubbed his face. He looked annoyed but at the same time relieved.- I did not tell him about my “memories”. I don’t know what he would do, if what we think happened to me, is real.- Alfonse looked even more relieved by that. Dimitri wondered what that meant.

-We will talk about this when we get home. Hrid will be your guard today. He asked Commander Anna. -His jaw muscles were moving with tension.

- Goddammit! Well so will Dimitri. I am not changing my plan. He is lucky I did not choose Grima. I’m being nice here Alfonse…a good girl Alfonse.- You smile coyly at him and at first he is confused, but you see him redden. He has no idea of your real meaning, but just looking at you giving him that look is enough to make him melt. He knows you are flirting, but he does not know the context. He is about to say something when you both hear Anna give the command to start the march.

After a meal brake, Fjorm comes to talk to you.

-_____. I heard my brother has asked to be your body guard. You have to deny him.- You look at her confused.- _____ remember our traditions. If he saves your life or Alfonse’s; you will owe him a life debt. I…do not understand him. I would not have thought him capable of using something like this or even demanding it of you, but he seems so different. I am not sure if it is because he has been alone without mother and Gunthra to guide him or something, but he looks different. I am just doing this as a precaution. I swear to you he is a good man and a honorable one, but I also know that he is stubborn and will fight for what he wants and what he thinks is best.

-I believe you Fjorm. I actually like him as a person. I just can’t help be angry at his ideas and the outcome of his requirements for the treaty. I will appeal to his warrior pride and make him be in the battlefield, just not close to Alfonse or Sharena. Deal?- She smiles and blushes when you take her hand in yours.

That night there is no time to put tents up. You put your roll up by Sharena and Fae who sleeps between you and Grima. You have noticed Grima had given the small dragon some of the candy you had given him. Fae is slowly becoming a younger sister of sorts to him. She started following him around and he let her after he was told she was alone in the world and had been isolated for a long time. She had been well taken care of, but had no living family. Although she had people who loved her and knew some half dragons, she was immediately drawn to Grima after she had heard of how he had been treated and how he had been isolated and alone. She had told you she wanted to help him. They were both alone.

You were awaken by a soft voice.

-The family has grown.- Alfonse’s smiling face is looking down at you from his sitting position by your head. You look around to find Fae had moved to Grima’s side and some time in the night, young Tiki had laid down on his other side.

<<OMG! What do I do?!>> You did not want Grima to wake up to find her there and get angry. You look at Grima and see that his eyes are open. He moves his hand from under Tiki’s head just a bit and signals you to not make a noise. <<Oh OK then..>> He closes his eyes again.

-Care to patrol with me?- Alfonse asks and you get up to join him. Hrid had, had the last watch and was sleeping now. You would be leaving in a few hours and arrive at the keeps before twilight.

-I guess it has grown. I wonder why the dragons just leave their kids so young wander around in the world, all alone like that.

-They probably have their reasons to do it.- He says quietly. You were thinking of arguing your point but remember that he himself was not as close to his parents and had had a more or less lonely childhood. If it wasn’t for Sharena he would have been much more of a loner. You decide to change the subject.

-Free for some hours then?- You ask. He looks back to where Hrid is laying asleep by his sisters.

-At last. Care for a tea after the patrol?- He asks you smiling. You take his hand and look him in the eyes.

-I’ll be happy to.

You do the patrol and drink some hot water since you could not find the tea. You talk for a while and fall asleep together sitting by the fire. This is where F Dimitri finds you to wake you up to re start the journey.

The second day goes on just like the first. Hrid comes often to talk to you and more often than not some heroes come to take you away for one reason or another. You walked alongside K Claude mostly and Grima who was followed by young Tiki and Fae. At some point Hero King Marth came to walk alongside and carried a sleepy Tiki who had placed a flower on his tiara. Fae pouted until Grima carried her as well. You looked back one time to find Chrome watching longingly at them.

You arrived past midday to the Keeps and after you help them all to settle and then seek Hrid out. You did not notice Alfonse had followed you and stayed in the shadows to wait for you.

-Hrid. I wanted to talk to you.

-Oh?

-You see… I don’t know how to say this… It is just, I wanted to ask you something. -He he looks at you expectantly with a small smile adorning his face. You also try not to sound flirty but keep it as interested.- I was thinking back at the time we found you in Muspell and remembering how you were fighting. Well the reason I was reluctant for you to be my guard was that I was curious about your style and I wanted to see more of it.

- Oh! I see. I was desperate and not at my best.

-Being desperate to save a loved one is probably when people are at their best in my opinion. Maybe not technique wise but at least morally.- He reddens and bites his lower lip a little.

-I would love to show you my style. Where do you want me?

<<Is he…?>>

-Umm. I was thinking of placing you, if you are alright with it of course; on the right flank, by Lord Seliph. That way you are in the fray and still close enough.

-It sounds good to me.- He says.

- We can talk about it after the battle. - You say because you knew he would want to hog the time again and because now at least you had something to talk about that does not sound awkward to you.

You attended the meeting with the Royal Army Officers. Alfonse had sent a messenger before hand to warn them. They had arrived some two hours before you.The plan was laid out for the officers and and after some debate it was approved. The Royal Army was very set in their ways and your suggestion on an ambush by militia attacks was taken with skepticism. You had met this kind of drawback before and it was always smoothed over by the heroes and Alfonse. The later had avoided your gaze every time you had asked for his opinion and you notice he looked angry. He had stood as far away as possible from you. Meanwhile Hrid had stood next to Claude which was as close to you as he could get.

As soon as the meeting was over, you sent out the mages and scouts to set up confusion wards in case enemy scouts came and saw you already there. Then mines were placed by the mages for when the enemy arrived. Not explosive mines but paint. The paint was magic and it help to immobilize , by temporally blind and confuse the enemy warriors; giving you precious time to attack them or retreat as needed. They also had the side effect of giving people hives. You seek out Alfonse to talk to him. You find him in the armory.

-Alfonse. I need to talk to you.- He does not turn to you and keeps on checking his gear and weapons. He looks like he wants to ignore you.

- I have no time. We can do this after the battle…unless you have someone to talk to later instead?

<<???>>

-Yeah… I promised Hrid we would talk about his sword style and technique…and that is what I need to talk to you about.

-I need to go check on the men.

-It will be just a minute…why are you so angry any way?

-What do you mean angry? Why would I be angry? Did you do something to anger me?

-I don’t think so…Look any way; Fjorm came and told me not let Hrid be my guard…- He looked at you now.- because she did not want him to save me or something and then I would owe him a life debt.

-What? He wouldn’t dare...- Now he looks even angrier.

-Yeah she doesn’t believe that either, but she says he looked different in a way and it is a “just in case” kind of thing, so I went to talk to him and ask him to fight. I was afraid for you as well as Sharena. It is better neither of us owe him something. - He nods. He still looked annoyed but at least he did not radiated that miasma of doom he does when he is really angry.

- I.. heard you talking to him.

-Oh! So that is why…Oh Alfonse!- You look around to see if someone is watching and take his hand. He leads you a little away until he finds a small door that he opens and you find yourself in a small closet full of weapon polishing products.

-I’m sorry I should have told you I was going to do that, but I didn’t found the time with so much stuff to do.

-No…I should not be jumping to conclusions. It is just…- He suddenly hugs you and kisses you on the forehead.- I…I love you so much…- He lowers his face and is about to kiss you. You feel like the butterflies in your stomach are having a party in there.

(Knock, knock)

-You two. It’s time to go!- Alfonse jumps back at the sound of Niles’ always suggestive words. You open the door and frown at him. Niles looks around inside the closet and smirks.- So…how was the sword polishing?

<<Oh I wish Niles!>> You roll your eyes at him.- We were only talking. You look back at Alfonse but he is looking down at his feet. You have never seen him look so guilty before. <<Adorable!>>

-Just talking huh…I love “just talking” with people inside closets too.

-Oh I wish Niles, but you went ahead an ruined it by knocking at the door. Besides we were in there for only like thirty seconds! Oh wait…Is that how long you “talk to people in closets”?

-______!!- Comes Alfonse’s voice behind you.

-.…Oh you got me good Summoner!- He says and starts laughing out loud.- I forget you are not afraid to use that tongue.

<<Oh Niles if only you knew… That’s exactly what I was trying to do.>> He looks at your face sees that little smirk and he just knows and laughs harder.

-Don’t worry your Highness. I am an expert at keeping secrets. I would give you fifteen minutes but we really need to go.- Alfonse comes out after you and his face is redder than a tomato.

-Wait. Let me fix your cloak.- He stops and lets you fix his scarf part of the cloak. You linger around his neck and then pass your fingers through the locks of hair loose from his crown. He is looking at you and you see his lips part and look at your lips for a second. His tongue comes out slowly to lick at his lower lip. The moment is so intimate Niles turns around to give you privacy and for once keeps quiet.

-You look good.- You tell him and his cheeks redden a little more.- Let’s go.- You say and both of you follow Niles out of the armory to Anna who is waiting for you.

~*~

The Emblian Empire attacked at midnight. The Askrn forces had let them get close to the bait, which was the keep where the the town people were hiding. Then the militia attacks were started in the enemy rear. Your surprise attack was successful and when they tried to retreat the mines enclosed them in where the men were not stationed. The battlefield was alight with fires suddenly burning, this way you could see where the heroes were and what they were doing.

From your position on one of the highest hills outside of town you could send the signals to the men and not be reached by enemy fire. King Savior Dimitri was by your left side monitoring the danger and the rear. Waiting for the moment he had to act.

Although you had smoother over the problem with Alfonse, he seemed still to be in a bad mood. He fights with the same skill as ever, but you could see there was something else in there. The same quality to his strikes that Lif had in his…like he really wanted to hurt something.

-Beruka tell Innes there’s an enemy sniper hiding far to his right flank over the tallest tree. - You mouthed over to Beruka who could read your lips. She nodded and before taking of to warn Innes.

Once in a while you look over to Hrid to check on his team and actually evaluating him so you would have something to talk about later on.

Next is Valter whom you had told to stay and rest after being on that hunt he went on. He seemed just as efficient, but there was a slowness to his strikes that if not corrected could end in a bad situation. You touch your medallion and say his name. It would let him know you are watching him or have something to tell him. He turns to you after making sure there is no danger.

- Are we the prey or are we the hunter?- That did it for him. No one would call him prey. He seemed to regain vigor, speed and strength.- Good. That’s my hunter boy.- You could hear Azura and Shigure singing over the noise. You turn to watch the others. Michaelis, Minerva, Seliph, Olivia,Eliwood and Roy, Hector, Rath , Eirika, Lyon and Ephraim…

You take your spyglass to watch the farther part of the field and spy on Xander, who is the leader of the Emblan army. He is watching you it seems, so you wave at him. He lowers the spyglass and for a second it looks like he is about to wave back but thinks better of it. This makes you chuckle. That man is actually a good man and you could understand his position. He not only kept Veronica company and keeps the vultures that try to make her their puppet away from them, but he had smoothed out some problems that could have escalated without his help. Without him the war would be worst and who knows where Veronica would be or what she would be doing. He kept her human.

Then from the North Eastern side of the Keep the flank breaks and reinforcements pour in. You knew about them and were prepared for them, that was what the mines were for. What you were not prepare for, was one of the heroes in the enemy lines. Adrestian Emperor Edelgard, dressed in her Reds and golds armor lead the reinforcements. You hear a hiss from S K Dimitri at the same time you feel your medallion warn you. It was Alfonse. You turn to watch him but you know full well what he meant. He points to F Dimitri. He has isolated himself as he always does. His backup Marth, is blocked form getting to him by a couple of lancers. Alfonse made his way to him, but before he reached him Dimitri looked up. It seemed like he could hear orders being given and recognized the voice.

Dimitri saw Edelgard and he froze for a second. Then he started to walk her way and he looked like he was not paying attention to his surroundings. Alfonse started to make his way towards him and so did Marth. You signal King Claude who is near by covering Alfonse, but he had already seen the scene unfolding. He started felling the enemies that were about to hit Dimitri. You signal Dimitri himself. At last he seems to react, but instead of returning your call, he started to relentlessly and brutally kill the enemies on his way.

You hear SK Dimitri growl in anger. You reach for his hand and squeeze it gently.

You can see with the spyglass that Edelgard has taken notice of Dimitri. She stands for a minute watching him and you see her close her eyes. The face she makes is almost one of regret. She turns around, then signals something to her men and she starts attacking the opposite flank. On her stead another hero is sent. Death Knight.

-Oh FUCK… Death Knight.- You had seen him before. That man was insane and brutal. He did not listen to orders and actively has tried to kill your heroes any chance he has. You see him make a bee line to where F Dimitri is trying to follow Edelgard.

You see it as if in slow motion. Ferdinand came down on Dimitri even before Death Knight arrived. You had not even seen him coming. He drove his lance with enough force to behead someone and the speed to not miss. He had the advantage of surprise. Dimitri could not deflect or evade; but before Ferdinand’s lance hit its mark; a golden shield came up to protect a falling Dimitri. Alfonse had reached Dimitri just in time to jump on the way of the strike and effectively striking the blond out of the way. Alfonse almost fell down with the force of the strike and the effort not to step on the fallen blonde. He stood with his legs on either side of Dimitri’s upper body. Then the second strike came just as he was trying to gain his footing. The force of the second strike almost made him stumble and had him straddling the blonde. Alfonse could do nothing but shield himself and Dimitri. He turned to see if Dimitri was alright and his faces were inches apart.

He was about to tell him to get up when they heard a yell. Ferdinand was falling down his horse and an arrow was stuck on the horse’s flank. Claude was covering him while trying to keep from getting hit by enemy arrows. This gave Alfonse the time he needed to get up. Alfonse was standing up when Death Knight’s scythe came sideways and hit his shield on the side enough to fling it and his arm away form his body. He deflected the rest with the sword.

Sparks like fireworks flew from Folkvangr. Death Knight was poised to strike again. Watching from the ground Dimitri was struggling to get up. He was backing away so he could get up and not be on the way.

You watch it all from your post. Unable to do anything about it. You feel like the life is draining from you with every beat of the heart. Hel’s scythe; coming down slowly and yet so fast. Just like it had done for Anna and Sharena before. It strikes Alfonse to behead , but the angle and motion playing their part have another idea. The scythe misses badly. He is falling down…

-ALFONSE!!!!!

…..He is falling….he is …. outside the Order's castle in a training arena. You followed him to see him train. He is doing something you had not seen him do before. He jumps and twirls his sword to gather power and at the point of the strike there is a beam of power coming out. The attack is one of the most powerful you had ever seen. It may even rival Aether.

-Incredible…- You say behind him. He turns and smiles at you. His naked torso glistening with sweat. In another time he would he dying of shame from being found with so little clothes.

-Do you like it? I am trying to create something powerful to kill her.

-Alfonse that is amazing! How do you call it?

-I don’t know yet…I want to make a future for us with it. Maybe then we can end this absurd war and get married,- He gets close to you and touches your cheek with his fingers. - My beloved _______. He kisses you slowly on your lips and then kisses your forehead.-…I might call it…

-DOOR TO THE FUTURE!!!!- Your yell resonates over the cacophony of voices and yells of the battlefield. Breidablik lights up…

A/N

This program is messing up my grammar instead of helping, especially names. I have no idea how many times I have gone and fixed them. When I transfer it to the page it gets messed up again. I think it gets confused because I write in different languages XD

As a side note, I am trying not to make Hrid sound like he is an asshole at all. I like him a lot, but the guy is in love and is very possessive and jealous of Alfonse who he believes belongs with his sister and passes most of his time with you so…He just wants a chance for you to get to know him and fall in love maybe…and maybe…and maybe…

I have this head canon that if Valter ever hears Guren no Yumiya from Attack on Titan it would become his National Anthem XD. Bless Natewantstobattle and his covers.

Have you ever wonder why Lif’s face and original skin only covers his nose and his mouth seems to be lost and to have no bone inside?….yeah…I do.

1. The song I am referencing here is the metal cover by Dan Vasc:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bS4Q-WWyl3Q

2. It is said that Grima is 2000+ years but I seriously think that he can’t be that much older than Tiki was around the time of Shadow Dragon. So to me he is still a kid. A very neglected and abused kid who is lashing out in the worst way, because he is so powerful. I am doing this because I think that a gown up Grima would be more a love interest and I don’t want that in this story. Also I ship him with Evostrashbin’s Summoner. BTW I’m so happy Evo got Halloween Mr. Grima! I love it!

3. Crazy He Calls Me. Natalie Cole’s version. I love this song all thanks to my father. I choose it because I could see the co-relation with the story line and situation.

4. I mean. I get that the order is supposed to be the good guys but dressing in white all the time in battle? That works well in winter and Nifl, but that’s it. That Lord of the Rings cloak, the Lorien Elves gave The Fellowship would be awesome to have for the Heroes on more stealthy missions. Camo uniforms would also work wonders on the Order’s favor.

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riverthunder · 3 years

Text

The Stars in Our Skies

For @thespacecryptid for the @ironstrangehaven Gift Exchange ❤️

Link to AO3 Post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625829

Notes:

Alrighty, so first I need to apologize to my giftee, TheSpaceCryptid. I tried to finish your gift early, and I want to say I had it done sometime between the 15th and the 20th? And after a lazy Christmas Day I went into my Google Drive to post this and it was just... gone. I have no idea what happened. So I had to redo the whole thing from scratch. In some ways I like this version a lot more, though- and in others I think the original was a little better? But overall I'm pleased with this.

You had a lot of ideas I absolutely adore- like Asexual Stephen (insert my heart eyes here), and stargazing dates, and these two being professors. Just. Mwah. Beautiful.

Also, I'm tagging this as Teen due to some discussions of sex- nothing graphic, though, obviously- since I headcanon ace Stephen as a sex-repulsed asexual like myself.

I hope you like the fic and your bonus artwork to make up for how late this ended up being! Apologies again!!

The Stars in Our Skies

Tony stared just a little bit as the new astronomy teacher strolled into the break room and began fixing himself a cup of oolong tea. He had a beautiful face, with sharp cheekbones and a well-defined jaw, as well as piercing, beautiful eyes. Tony also had a funny feeling that he’d met the astronomy teacher many times before, but he couldn’t put a finger on where.

He knew Professor Strange had been a surgeon back in the day, and he was sure he’d seen him at some of the galas he’d attended in his youth. But it felt like he’d seen Strange more recently than that.

He was very obviously distracted during his class, and he gave up on whatever physics explanation he’d been trying to give the poor engineering class he was clearly confusing, and told them to just go ahead and work on homework, giving them a bonus extra two days on his latest paper as well to top it off while he sat back down at his desk to think.

At the end of the period, two of his best students came to sit next to him.

“Everything okay, Professor Stark?” Peter asked while Harley gave him a knowing smile.

“Fine, boys, just a little off my rhythm is all,” Tony said, trying to look unconcerned.

“You sure?” Harley asked innocently. “Sure it’s not something else? A certain someone, maybe? Like… I dunno… the hot new astronomy professor?”

Tony had been taking a drink of coffee and choked on it at Harley’s words, which was decidedly not good, since the coffee was still piping hot thanks to his specially designed insulated mug. “I- you- what?” Tony spluttered.

“What?” Harley asked innocently. “He’s kinda like you, Professor. A silver fox. He’s smokin’.”

“Harley!” Peter said indignantly. “You can’t say that about a professor!”

Harley shrugged. “Too bad, it’s true, Pete. ‘Sides, Professor Stark should come to terms with the idea.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Harley’s tone. “Oh really?” He asked. “Why?”

Harley shrugged innocently. “Because I wrote Professor Strange a note in your handwriting and hid it in his desk drawer asking him to go on a date with you tonight at 8:00.”

Tony stood up so quickly his coffee mug almost spilled all over the papers he’d collected from his first period, but before he could shout at Harley at the top of his lungs, a certain handsome professor was standing in his doorway.

“Oh,” Stephen said, looking from Tony to their students. “I’m sorry, are you busy? I could come back another time.”

He was holding a piece of paper that had obviously been folded a few times in one of his trembling hands.

“No, we were just leaving,” Harley said sweetly.

Peter felt himself blushing for some reason as he passed Professor Stark a quick note of his own. “Um, I just wanted to know if you’d please check my work on these chemistry notes,” he said.

Tony glanced down at them. A new web-fluid design. He nodded to Peter. “Yes. Yes. I’ll look them over and e-mail you with any necessary changes.”

“Thanks!”

Without another word, Peter seized Harley’s upper arm and dashed out of the room, while Harley laughed and tried to protest, clearly thrilled with watching Tony flounder in the presence of his crush. You could hardly blame him. Seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, who was a professor for fun, flounder, was a rare and almost unheard of sight.

“Hello, Professor Stark,” Strange said politely, and Tony felt his face heating up. “Um- hi- I-”

“I am very sorry,” Stephen said, setting the note in his hand down on Tony’s desk. Tony caught a glimpse of the handwriting- fucking identical to his own. That damn Keener brat. When Tony got his hands on him-

“But I am afraid I must decline your invitation.”

Oh.

Tony hadn’t even known he was asking Stephen on a date a few minutes ago, but somehow Stephen’s words still stung.

“Oh,” he said out loud. “Uh… busy?”

“No,” Stephen replied.

Yeah, that definitely hurt.

“Oh.” Tony glanced at the note and quickly plucked it off the desk. “Okay. That’s fine, I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with this.”

“You didn’t,” Stephen told him. “It was actually very flattering. But I don’t think you would like to be in a relationship with me, so I am afraid I must decline.”

Wait, what?

“Uh… sorry, you lost me,” Tony said awkwardly.

Stephen chuckled. “I identify as asexual,” he explained. “Specifically, a sex-repulsed asexual. And from what I know of your past...er, love life, I think it’s better if I decline the invitation altogether. I don’t want to upset you because you want to have sex and I don’t.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “So it is an ace ring!” He said, pointing at the black ring on Stephen’s middle finger on his right hand. “Rhodey called me crazy and said it was a swinger’s ring!”

Stephen blinked in surprise and glanced down at his ring. “Er- yes, it is,” he agreed.

“Cool! Okay.” Tony shot him a smirk. “In that case- are you an ace of spades?”

Stephen looked shocked. “You- you know about the card suits?”

“Sure do,” Tony said proudly.

Stephen narrowed his eyes. “Okay then- who uses the ace of diamonds?”

“Demisexuals and demiromantic asexuals,” Tony said. “Ace of clubs is for graysexual and grayromantic, ace of spades is for aromantic asexuals, and ace of hearts is for romantic asexuals.”

He grinned, and Stephen had to crack a smile. “Very impressive.”

“So, what’s your suit, Doc?” Tony asked, grinning at him, and Stephen had to resist the urge to let that smile widen.

“Ace of hearts. I’m a romantic asexual.”

Tony grinned. “I can work with that.”

Stephen allowed his face to fall into a small frown. “Tony, I-”

“Look, Doc, I don’t need sex to be happy,” Tony said. “I’ve had loads in my day, yeah, but I’m a big boy and frankly, I think it’s about time I had a relationship that wasn’t so focused on it. If you’re good with a romantic relationship, I can be happy with one, too.”

Stephen chuckled despite himself. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Tony said, a bit smugly.

Stephen chuckled. “Very well.” He wrote something on a small scrap of paper and offered it to Tony, taking back the note Harley had written. “You can pick me up there, at 8:00.”

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, snatching the fake letter back. “And I’ll give you something actually written by me then.”

~(*)~

Tony pulled up to the house on Bleecker Street. Huh… looked kinda like a museum, to be honest.

The elegant Professor Strange was already walking to meet the car. “Right on time,” he teased, climbing in. He looked like he was putting on a brave face as he entered, and Tony took note of the way Stephen’s hand reached for the cabinet handle on the inside of the door.

Tony bit his lip. “I just like to be on time to things,” he said casually, placing his right hand on the console if Stephen wanted to hold it too, or instead.

Stephen nodded. “Well, I appreciate it. So, what’s the plan for our date?”

“I think you told Professor Verity that you like ramen from Samurai Noodle, right?”

Stephen smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Great! Then we’re getting take-out,” Tony told him, grinning to himself. “And I have a great idea of where we can eat it.”

“Oh? And where is that, exactly?”

“It’s a secret,” Tony said, smirking. “Are you ready to go?”

Stephen nodded, looking amused as he took Tony’s free hand on the console. “That I am. Let’s go, Professor Stark.”

Tony snorted as he started the car. “Alright.”

He tried to sound cool, but he knew that he had started blushing.

~(*)~

“So what exactly are we doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?” Stephen asked as Tony laid a large blanket out in one of the large fields near the Avengers Compound.

“Why?” Tony asked, smirking at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

Stephen chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you’re secretly an ax murderer about to eviscerate me in the middle of this field, free of any witnesses?”

“Ouch,�� Tony complained. “You’re really good at wounding someone’s ego, you know that, Strange?”

“So what’s the real reason we’re out here, then?” Stephen asked, amused.

“Lay down,” Tony ordered, pointing to the blanket. “And look up.”

Stephen did so, and gasped in surprise. “The stars….” He breathed, sounding mesmerized.

“That’s right,” Tony said, smiling at him. “Not to easy to see them in the city. But I figured you’re the Astronomy Professor… maybe you’d like to see them more clearly? Maybe teach me something I don’t know?”

“Lay down,” Stephen ordered quietly. “There… Orion the Hunter. Can you see his belt? The three stars, just here.”

“Oh… right,” Tony said. “Isn’t he that dude everyone says Artemis loved?”

“A common misconception these days,” Stephen murmured. “In many of the myths, Artemis was actually the one to kill him, on purpose, for harassing her friends, the Pleiades, or she would encourage someone else to kill him for her, such as Apollo. He’d summon a giant scorpion to kill Orion, which many believe is Scorpio, as the two constellations aren’t around at the same time. When Scorpio rises, Orion vanishes.”

“Cool,” Tony said softly, staring up at the night sky with Stephen. “What else can you see?”

“Sirius, the Dog Star, Orion’s hunting dog,” Stephen said, pointing to the bright star. You can see the constellation Taurus there. Gemini there. Monoceros is there, very faint. You see? Look closely.”

“Beautiful,” Tony murmured, resting his head on Stephen’s chest as he gazed up at the sky.

Stephen smiled to himself and wrapped an arm around him. “Hmm. Not as beautiful as you,” he murmured in a thoughtful voice, making Tony blush.

~(*)~

“Was that an okay date?” Tony wondered as he drove Stephen back to Bleecker Street.

Stephen smiled at him. “You don’t know?”

“Not really,” Tony admitted. “And I kinda wanna… you know. Do this again.”

Stephen chuckled as they reached the museum door. Wait… how come even the building looked sort of familiar? And the street…?

“Well, in that case… it was a perfect date, Professor Stark.” Stephen leaned over, kissing his lips gently. “And I expect to go on another one with you very soon.”

“Sure,” Tony said, a little breathlessly, his eyes wide as he stared at Stephen. “Whatever you want….”

“Perfect.” Stephen smiled at him, and suddenly something long, red, and fluttering was at his throat, gently tugging him out of the car. “Alright, Levi, alright. I’m coming,” Stephen murmured, reaching out to stroke the red fabric.

Tony stared at it. A sentient cloak….

Wait- was he-?

Stephen was already disappearing inside the door when Tony found his voice, so he couldn’t ask him directly. He sat in the dark of his car, dumbfounded, and feeling his heart pounding. Was that the kiss, his sudden epiphany, or both?

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?” Chirped the cool Irish accent.

“Am… am I dating the Sorcerer Supreme?”

Extra Notes:

To clarify the "Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme but Tony doesn't recognize him but is sure he's met him before" thing- I headcanon that Stephen's magic acts as a sort of "barrier" to his identity- and just protects his identity for him. I got the idea from Cute High Earth Defense Club actually- where the villains and heroes can't really recognize each other as specific students when they meet due to "radio interference" almost- but in my Stephen headcanon, it's more that the magic puts a sort of veil over Stephen, so Tony is sure he's met him before, but he can't put his finger on where until he recognizes Cloakie and goes "oh shit, Stephen's the Sorcerer Supreme I've been battling monsters with???"

#Ironstrange #IronStrange fic #IronStrange Art #chara’s fics #chara’s art #gift art #gift fic #tony stark #anthony edward stark #stephen strange #stephen vincent strange

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shieldwinter · 3 years

Text

Stucky Fic Rec [Part Three]

Part Three of the fic rec coming at you! Sorry for it coming so late in the day - I was finishing up reading a fic that I wanted to add to this part! I do only add fics that I’ve read, and enjoyed, to this rec so (once again) there will be few, if any, ABO and Shrinkyclink fics! As always; I will provide the Google Doc link where I update the rec regularly, but if you’d prefer it formatted here on tumblr, it is under the cut! If you want to recommend fics, go for it!

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10wqr5s-CzkFzLidQgt-y4-cjudHWwVeVPWCedMjK7t0/edit

Don’t Leave Me Asunder

Word Count: 31.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Veteran!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky Warnings: None Synopsis: Like many other war veterans, Bucky Barnes is alone. He doesn't talk to his family, he has no friends and his only human interactions are with his cleaning crew from Avengers Tower. Plagued by nightmares and pain, he lives each day in isolation. Until the Avengers bring their fight at home and Bucky gets to meet the famous Captain America. To his surprise, both their lives change forever after that.

Far Strayed

Word Count: 18.3k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Post CACW, Pre Infinity War Warnings: None Synopsis: “They’re not going to stop coming after me,” Bucky tells Steve, somewhere in the air above Siberia. “Let them come,” Steve replies, furious still. After Siberia, instead of seeking refuge in Wakanda, Bucky and Steve go on the run.

All My Chances Again

Word Count: 20.6k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Fix-It Warnings: Smut Synopsis: I love him, Steve thinks into the spiraling ether; I love him; let me tell him. Give me the chance to set that one thing right. If I can’t rest for saving him, let me give him all of me and hope that it’s enough. Or; Steve gets lost in the time matrix, and begs for an out. Seems confession is good for the soul—or so he hopes.

I, Barnes

Word Count: 76.7k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Bi!Steve, Bi!Bucky, Period-Typical Homophobia Warnings: Heavy Smut, Talk of Suicide, Non-Consenual Vouyerism, Panic Attacks Synopsis: When Steve finally finds Bucky and brings him home to New York, their reunion doesn't go as planned. Bucky disappears into the bowels of the tower, avoiding Steve at all costs. Bucky believes himself to be broken beyond repair, unworthy of any contact with Steve Rogers. But having finally gotten a taste of being around Steve again, Bucky can't just leave - he needs Steve. In ways he believes prove he's a monster unfit to live.

If Steve Rogers Were Your Boyfriend

Word Count: 70.2k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Cafe!AU, Barista!Steve, Author!Bucky Warnings: Abusive Relationship (not Steve and Bucky) Synopsis: When he's not editing a magazine he truly loathes or navigating a rocky relationship he truly doesn't deserve, Bucky Barnes writes a fantasy romance column with an unexpectedly loyal internet following about the barista at his favorite cafe. Barista Boyfriend makes these other worlds bearable, but the real world dreamboat isn’t remotely involved; Steve Rogers is just a muse. Everyone loves the column. And it definitely isn’t killing Bucky very gently in 500 word increments, not in the slightest. What kind of a writer can't keep fact and fiction straight? James Fuckin' Barnes, that's who.

Love Me Tender

Word Count: 13.1k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Canon Divergence Warnings: None Synopsis: Steve is captured by Hydra, who for lack of any other containment options, activate the Winter Soldier and order the man to "take care of Captain America". They really should have been more specific. - OR: Taking care of Captain America is a task that the Soldier's body seems to remember how to do, even if he doesn't understand why.

Falling Back on Forever

Word Count: 24k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Revenge Road Trip, Identity Porn Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky falls from the train in 1945. Steve jumps right after him. The Winter Soldier and the Midnight Patriot are the world's most feared duo, serving HYDRA and leaving a trail of bodies a mile wide behind them. But then they remember.

Wishes and Words

Word Count: 48.2k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Fantasy!AU, Prince!Steve Warnings: Smut, Past Torture Synopsis: Life is going great until the day Bucky Barnes finds Crown Prince Steven Grant bleeding out on his lands. Then it only gets better.

How Bucky Barnes Won His Second Pulitzer

Word Count: 11.6k Rating: General Audience Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Protective Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It isn’t like him and Steve go out frequently. Sometimes he’ll stop by Bucky’s apartment and they’ll binge watch tv shows, or Steve will tell him stories from ‘back in the day’. They’ve only gone out in public two or three times and it was merely quick runs to get coffee, or more popcorn. So Bucky really doesn’t understand where this Hydra asshole is coming from when he says: “The reason we took you is because we know the Captain will come running right into our trap.” (aka: bucky is an award winning journalist who really doesn't appreciate being used as bait for a beefed up, spandex-clad super soldier.)

Maybe This Christmas

Word Count: 24.8k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Christmas Warnings: None Synopsis: Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

6 Avenue Local

Word Count: 10.6k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: No Powers!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Graphic Designer!Steve Warnings: None Synopsis: It takes a moment for Steve to add up the features on the man in front of him: those blue-grey eyes, a cleft chin, high cheekbones. Sure, he's older, dirtier, taller, but there's only one person Steve knew who looked like that. "Bucky?" he asks. "Bucky Barnes?" It's been so long since he's said that name out loud. "Yeah, I..." Bucky pauses. "Oh fuck," he says. "I missed my stop." Steve smiles. “Wanna get a burger?” he asks, noting the happy coincidence that Bucky Barnes, of all the people in New York, fell asleep in the same subway car that Steve would walk into, and missed his stop. “Sure,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I could eat.”

Kingdom Come

Word Count: 8.2k Rating: Teen and Up Notable Tags: Missions Gone Wrong, Angst w/ Happy Ending Warnings: Near Death Experience Synopsis: “It’s too late, Steve,” Bucky’s voice across the comm is flat, layered with static. “The deadlock’s irreversible. S’the only way.” Steve knows what nearly dying feels like; knows it better than most, and this—those words, that voice, this impossible burning that courses through him like the serum in reverse, this. This is so much worse than nearly.

Just Me, You, and These Shitty Cigarettes

Word Count: 39.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Modern!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Barista!Bucky, Artist!Steve Warnings: Smut, Dubious Consent Synopsis: Steve Rogers is pretty sure Natasha's new roommate is trying to kill him. Which he wouldn't mind considering he's been helplessly in love with him since they were thirteen.

Where All Roads Lead

Word Count: 46.1k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Time Travel, Historian!Bucky Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve Rogers inadvertently touches a relic in the course of a mission gone sideways during WWII, he’s catapulted seventy years into the future. Before he's even sure where he's ended up, his search for help puts him in contact with Bucky Barnes, a historian and college professor who has built a career around studying Captain America. With Bucky's help, Steve means to find out how exactly he ended up in 2017, and solve the bigger mystery of how to get home. There's just one problem. The closer they get to their goal, the less certain Steve is that he wants to go home.

Énoument

Word Count: 77.9k Rating: Mature Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Meet-Cute Warnings: Smut Synopsis: When Steve first met Sergeant James Barnes during the New York invasion, he flipped Steve off for calling him a civilian, then roundhouse kicked an alien in the face. They haven't stopped talking to each other ever since, and Steve thought it was normal for him to latch onto the first person who befriended him after coming out of the ice. Nope, turns out he was just pining.

Closed Book

Word Count: 38.8k Rating: Explicit Notable Tags: Amnesia Warnings: Smut Synopsis: Bucky woke up with a headache, a mouth that tasted like something had died in it, and hands-down, swear-to-god, the most beautiful man he had ever seen asleep in his lap. Bucky was also, he realized after a moment, strapped down to a hospital bed with about six different monitors making unsynced, equally piercing, beeps. Beyond that he couldn’t quite see—there was a hideous floral curtain pulled around the bed, and while he could just make out figures moving in the room beyond it, the pattern made his head pound even worse the longer he looked at it. So. That was concerning.

#stucky #stucky fic rec #stucky fic #stevebucky #stevebucky fic #starbucks #wintersheild #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier

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96thdayofrage · 3 years

Text

Chris Hedges: The Price of Conscience

Drone warfare whistleblower sentenced to 45 months in prison for telling the American people the truth.

Daniel Hale, a former intelligence analyst in the drone program for the Air Force who as a private contractor in 2013 leaked some 17 classified documents about drone strikes to the press, was sentenced today to 45 months in prison.

The documents, published by The Intercept on October 15, 2015, exposed that between January 2012 and February 2013, US special operations airstrikes killed more than 200 people. Of those, only 35 were the intended targets. For one five-month period of the operation, according to the documents, nearly 90 percent of the people killed in airstrikes were not the intended targets. The civilian dead, usually innocent bystanders, were routinely classified as “enemies killed in action.”

The Justice Department coerced Hale, who was deployed to Afghanistan in 2012, on March 31 to plead guilty to one count of violating the Espionage Act, a law passed in 1917 designed to prosecute those who passed on state secrets to a hostile power, not those who expose to the public government lies and crimes. Hale admitted as part of the plea deal to “retention and transmission of national security information” and leaking 11 classified documents to a journalist. If he had refused the plea deal, he could have spent 50 years in prison.

Hale, in a handwritten letter to Judge Liam O’Grady on July 18, explained why he leaked classified information, writing that the drone attacks and the war in Afghanistan “had little to do with preventing terror from coming into the United States and a lot more to do with protecting the profits of weapons manufacturers and so-called defense contractors.”

At the top of the ten-page letter Hale quoted US Navy Admiral Gene LaRocque, speaking to a reporter in 1995: “We now kill people without ever seeing them. Now you push a button thousands of miles away … Since it’s all done by remote control, there’s no remorse … and then we come home in triumph.”

“In my capacity as a signals intelligence analyst stationed at Bagram Airbase, I was made to track down the geographic location of handset cellphone devices believed to be in the possession of so-called enemy combatants,” Hale explained to the judge. “To accomplish this mission required access to a complex chain of globe-spanning satellites capable of maintaining an unbroken connection with remotely piloted aircraft, commonly referred to as drones. Once a steady connection is made and a targeted cell phone device is acquired, an imagery analyst in the U.S., in coordination with a drone pilot and camera operator, would take over using information I provided to surveil everything that occurred within the drone’s field of vision. This was done, most often, to document the day-to-day lives of suspected militants. Sometimes, under the right conditions, an attempt at capture would be made. Other times, a decision to strike and kill them where they stood would be weighed.”

He recalled the first time he witnessed a drone strike, a few days after he arrived in Afghanistan.

“Early that morning, before dawn, a group of men had gathered together in the mountain ranges of Patika province around a campfire carrying weapons and brewing tea,” he wrote. “That they carried weapons with them would not have been considered out of the ordinary in the place I grew up, much less within the virtually lawless tribal territories outside the control of the Afghan authorities. Except that among them was a suspected member of the Taliban, given away by the targeted cell phone device in his pocket. As for the remaining individuals, to be armed, of military age, and sitting in the presence of an alleged enemy combatant was enough evidence to place them under suspicion as well. Despite having peacefully assembled, posing no threat, the fate of the now tea drinking men had all but been fulfilled. I could only look on as I sat by and watched through a computer monitor when a sudden, terrifying flurry of hellfire missiles came crashing down, splattering, purple-colored crystal guts on the side of the morning mountain.”

This was his first experience with “scenes of graphic violence carried out from the cold comfort of a computer chair.” There would be many more.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t question the justification for my actions,” he wrote. “By the rules of engagement, it may have been permissible for me to have helped to kill those men — whose language I did not speak, customs I did not understand, and crimes I could not identify — in the gruesome manner that I did. Watch them die. But how could it be considered honorable of me to continuously have laid in wait for the next opportunity to kill unsuspecting persons, who, more often than not, are posing no danger to me or any other person at the time. Never mind honorable, how could it be that any thinking person continued to believe that it was necessary for the protection of the United States of America to be in Afghanistan and killing people, not one of whom present was responsible for the September 11th attacks on our nation. Notwithstanding, in 2012, a full year after the demise of Osama bin Laden in Pakistan, I was a part of killing misguided young men who were but mere children on the day of 9/11.”

He and other service members were confronted with the privatization of war where “contract mercenaries outnumbered uniform wearing soldiers 2 to 1 and earned as much as 10 times their salary.”

“Meanwhile, it did not matter whether it was, as I had seen, an Afghan farmer blown in half, yet miraculously conscious and pointlessly trying to scoop his insides off the ground, or whether it was an American flag-draped coffin lowered into Arlington National Cemetery to the sound of a 21-gun salute,” he wrote. “Bang, bang, bang. Both served to justify the easy flow of capital at the cost of blood — theirs and ours. When I think about this, I am grief-stricken and ashamed of myself for the things I’ve done to support it.”

He described to the judge “the most harrowing day of my life” that took place a few months into his deployment “when a routine surveillance mission turned into disaster.”

“For weeks we had been tracking the movements of a ring of car bomb manufacturers living around Jalalabad,” he wrote. “Car bombs directed at US bases had become an increasingly frequent and deadly problem that summer, so much effort was put into stopping them. It was a windy and clouded afternoon when one of the suspects had been discovered headed eastbound, driving at a high rate of speed. This alarmed my superiors who believe he might be attempting to escape across the border into Pakistan.”

Now, whenever I encounter an individual who thinks that drone warfare is justified and reliably keeps America safe, I remember that time and ask myself how could I possibly continue to believe that I am a good person, deserving of my life and the right to pursue happiness.

— Daniel Hale, of learning about children killed by indiscriminate US drone attacks he participated in.

“A drone strike was our only chance and already it began lining up to take the shot,” he continued. “But the less advanced predator drone found it difficult to see through clouds and compete against strong headwinds. The single payload MQ-1 failed to connect with its target, instead missing by a few meters. The vehicle, damaged, but still driveable, continued on ahead after narrowly avoiding destruction. Eventually, once the concern of another incoming missile subsided, the driver stopped, got out of the car, and checked himself as though he could not believe he was still alive. Out of the passenger side came a woman wearing an unmistakable burka. As astounding as it was to have just learned there had been a woman, possibly his wife, there with the man we intended to kill moments ago, I did not have the chance to see what happened next before the drone diverted its camera when she began frantically to pull out something from the back of the car.”

He learned a few days later from his commanding officer what next took place.

“There indeed had been the suspect’s wife with him in the car,” he wrote. “And in the back were their two young daughters, ages 5 and 3 years old. A cadre of Afghan soldiers were sent to investigate where the car had stopped the following day. It was there they found them placed in the dumpster nearby. The eldest was found dead due to unspecified wounds caused by shrapnel that pierced her body. Her younger sister was alive but severely dehydrated. As my commanding officer relayed this information to us, she seemed to express disgust, not for the fact that we had errantly fired on a man and his family, having killed one of his daughters; but for the suspected bomb maker having ordered his wife to dump the bodies of their daughters in the trash, so that the two of them could more quickly escape across the border. Now, whenever I encounter an individual who thinks that drone warfare is justified and reliably keeps America safe, I remember that time and ask myself how could I possibly continue to believe that I am a good person, deserving of my life and the right to pursue happiness.”

“One year later, at a farewell gathering for those of us who would soon be leaving military service, I sat alone, transfixed by the television, while others reminisced together,” he continued. “On television was breaking news of the president giving his first public remarks about the policy surrounding the use of drone technology in warfare. His remarks were made to reassure the public of reports scrutinizing the death of civilians in drone strikes and the targeting of American citizens. The president said that a high standard of ‘near certainty’ needed to be met in order to ensure that no civilians were present. But from what I knew, of the instances where civilians plausibly could have been present, those killed were nearly always designated enemies killed in action unless proven otherwise. Nonetheless, I continued to heed his words as the president went on to explain how a drone could be used to eliminate someone who posed an ‘imminent threat’ to the United States. Using the analogy of taking out a sniper, with his sights set on an unassuming crowd of people, the president likened the use of drones to prevent a would-be terrorist from carrying out his evil plot. But, as I understood it to be, the unassuming crowd had been those who lived in fear and the terror of drones in their skies and the sniper in this scenario had been me. I came to believe that the policy of drone assassination was being used to mislead the public that it keeps us safe, and when I finally left the military, still processing what I’d been a part of, I began to speak out, believing my participation in the drone program to have been deeply wrong.”

Hale threw himself into anti-war activism when he left the military, speaking out about the indiscriminate killing of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of noncombatants, including children in drone strikes. He took part in a peace conference held in Washington, D.C. in November 2013. The Yemeni Fazil bin Ali Jaber spoke at the conference about the drone strike that killed his brother, Salem bin Ali Jaber, and their cousin Waleed. Waleed was a policeman. Salem was an Imam who was an outspoken critic of the armed attacks carried out by radical jihadists.

“One day in August 2012, local members of Al Qaeda traveling through Fazil’s village in a car spotted Salem in the shade, pulled up towards him, and beckoned him to come over and speak to them,” Hale wrote. “Not one to miss an opportunity to evangelize to the youth, Salem proceeded cautiously with Waleed by his side. Fazil and other villagers began looking on from afar. Farther still was an ever present reaper drone looking too.”

“As Fazil recounted what happened next, I felt myself transported back in time to where I had been on that day, 2012,” Hale told the judge. “Unbeknownst to Fazil and those of his village at the time was that they had not been the only watching Salem approach the jihadist in the car. From Afghanistan, I and everyone on duty paused their work to witness the carnage that was about to unfold. At the press of a button from thousands of miles away, two hellfire missiles screeched out of the sky, followed by two more. Showing no signs of remorse, I, and those around me, clapped and cheered triumphantly. In front of a speechless auditorium, Fazil wept.”

A week after the conference Hale was offered a job as a government contractor. Desperate for money and steady employment, hoping to go to college, he took the job, which paid $ 80,000 a year. But by then he was disgusted by the drone program.

“For a long time, I was uncomfortable with myself over the thought of taking advantage of my military background to land a cushy desk job,” he wrote. “During that time, I was still processing what I had been through, and I was starting to wonder if I was contributing again to the problem of money and war by accepting to return as a defense contractor. Worse was my growing apprehension that everyone around me was also taking part in a collective delusion and denial that was used to justify our exorbitant salaries, for comparatively easy labor. The thing I feared most at the time was the temptation not to question it.”

“Then it came to be that one day after work I stuck around to socialize with a pair of co-workers whose talented work I had come to greatly admire,” he wrote. “They made me feel welcomed, and I was happy to have earned their approval. But then, to my dismay, our brand-new friendship took an unexpectedly dark turn. They elected that we should take a moment and view together some archived footage of past drone strikes. Such bonding ceremonies around a computer to watch so-called “war porn” had not been new to me. I partook in them all the time while deployed to Afghanistan. But on that day, years after the fact, my new friends gaped and sneered, just as my old one’s had, at the sight of faceless men in the final moments of their lives. I sat by watching too; said nothing and felt my heart breaking into pieces.”

“Your Honor,” Hale wrote to the judge, “the truest truism that I’ve come to understand about the nature of war is that war is trauma. I believe that any person either called-upon or coerced to participate in war against their fellow man is promised to be exposed to some form of trauma. In that way, no soldier blessed to have returned home from war does so uninjured. The crux of PTSD is that it is a moral conundrum that afflicts invisible wounds on the psyche of a person made to burden the weight of experience after surviving a traumatic event. How PTSD manifests depends on the circumstances of the event. So how is the drone operator to process this? The victorious rifleman, unquestioningly remorseful, at least keeps his honor intact by having faced off against his enemy on the battlefield. The determined fighter pilot has the luxury of not having to witness the gruesome aftermath. But what possibly could I have done to cope with the undeniable cruelties that I perpetuated?”

“My conscience, once held at bay, came roaring back to life,” he wrote. “At first, I tried to ignore it. Wishing instead that someone, better placed than I, should come along to take this cup from me. But this too was folly. Left to decide whether to act, I only could do that which I ought to do before God and my own conscience. The answer came to me, that to stop the cycle of violence, I ought to sacrifice my own life and not that of another person. So, I contacted an investigative reporter, with whom I had had an established prior relationship, and told him that I had something the American people needed to know.”

Hale, who has admitted to being suicidal and depressed, said in the letter he, like many veterans, struggles with the crippling effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, aggravated by an impoverished and turbulent childhood.

“Depression is a constant,” he told the judge. “Though stress, particularly stress caused by war, can manifest itself at different times and in different ways. The tell-tale signs of a person afflicted by PTSD and depression can often be outwardly observed and are practically universally recognizable. Hard lines about the face and jaw. Eyes, once bright and wide, now deep-set, and fearful. And an inexplicably sudden loss of interest in things that used to spark joy. These are the noticeable changes in my demeanor marked by those who knew me before and after military service. To say that the period of my life spent serving in the United States Air Force had an impression on me would be an understatement. It is more accurate to say that it irreversibly transformed my identity as an American. Having forever altered the thread of my life’s story, weaved into the fabric of our nation’s history.”

Feature photo | People carry the shrouded casket of a villager killed by a US drone attack on the Afghanistan border in Bannu. Ijaz Muhammad | AP

Chris Hedges is a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist who was a foreign correspondent for fifteen years for The New York Times, where he served as the Middle East Bureau Chief and Balkan Bureau Chief for the paper. He previously worked overseas for The Dallas Morning News, The Christian Science Monitor, and NPR. He is the host of the Emmy Award-nominated RT America show On Contact.

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nad-zeta · 4 years

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Match up (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

Hi! Could I get an IkeSen match-up please?? 😭I’m a 5'2.5" female (INFJ), I’ve got hazel eyes, a couple of ear piercings & shoulder length dark brown hair (though I had it deep purple when I could actually get it done before COVID). Career-wise I’m a graphic designer (as I’ve always loved the different arts and creative fields, be it classical art, interior design, fashion, music, dance) and on the non-art side I’ve always loved the social sciences like history, philosophy and psychology/sociology! I’m always learning & evolving my idea of the human condition, human nature, and the psychology of the masses. I also especially love logic games & puzzles and crack them quickly. (Though Math is lifelong enemy #1 no cap sorry Issac). I tend to take a while to properly open up to people and feel quite shy at first, though I’ve amazingly had people tell me I come off as chill and confident (even somewhat intimidating) even if on the inside I didn’t quite feel that way 😅 (useful right?). I definitely tend to observe and analyze people/situations before going in, though even if I’m thrown into something I’m great at thinking on my feet and getting things back under control. Alternatively, when with friends I’m very animated, open, loud, and always throwing out the jokes to raise the energy and have a good time! (Catch me watching & spam sending meme compilations at 3AM even though I know people are already asleep) It just takes me a while to make that transition and connection on that deeper level before I open up (I’m talking months here 😭) I’m a Virgo/Leo cusp with a Sagittarius moon and a Taurus Rising, so I definitely have a strong presence of both earth/fire energy. In professional situations or with people I’m not familiar with the Earth energy comes out, and with close friends or when I’m in my element I love to indulge in the fire. I guess you can say I crave both order and freedom… which feels so divisive LOL. Though I always seem to be drawn to things that are polar opposites in many aspects of life, so that’s nothing new to me. I flip between “the world is great and life is good” and “the world is cruel and we suffer with no purpose” on a daily basis like it’s my job. Though I don’t think life having no purpose is be a bad thing, it means you’re free to execute your own will. I believe good an evil are both within humanity’s callings (and our world certainly reflects it), but personally I’d rather try to add to the good than despair about the bad. A quote that’s always resonated with me and sums that concept up is “What is more noble? To be born good, or to contradict your evil nature through sheer effort and power of will?” Thank you for your time!! I really enjoy your work and am excited to see what you come up with! Though honestly no hard feelings if you aren’t feeling up to it 😁😁((Admin Maru - this acc has 2 admins so I thought I should specify Lol))

Hi hi Dear!❤🌻 thank you so much for the request and sorry for taking soooooo long!❤🌻 Aww u make me blush😳, i’m so happy you have been enjoying these match ups and i hope you have a super good day! ❤😊🌼 Also, i’m always up to write a matchup as long as yall dont mind waiting for my slow writings skills! 😳🐇🦊hehe anyways here is ya matchup Admin Maru! @sengoku-revolution

So I match you with……….. Mitsuhide

The first thing Mitsuhide noticed about you was your hazel green eyes observing him from the corner of the room.

You had just been dragged back to the castle and named as the Oda princess. After Nobunaga made the declaration, you were guided to your seat in the council room. You looked at all the unfamiliar faces around you, but one man in particular, caught your eyes. He reminded you of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to solve, with this whispy mysterious air about him. You sat there and stared at him until his gaze lifted and he locked eyes with you. You panic for a second not expecting him to look up, so you shyly averted your eyes with a small smile.

When the war council was over, it was Mitsunari who first approached you to strike up a conversation. You were rather shy, so you didn’t say much, and soon Masamune was beside Mitsunari asking you all sorts of random questions. You almost laughed at a comment that Masamune had made, “why you so quiet all of a sudden lass, cat got your tongue. What happened to that chilled confident lass from moments ago eyeing everyone in the council room.” That’s when Ieyasu piped up approaching you as well, “chilled and confident,” he scoffed, “more like scary and intimidating, no wonder Hideyoshi thinks she is a spy.” At the mention of his name, Hideyoshi too joined the group eyeing you suspiciously, he, did, not, trust, you.

Finally, someone came to your aid and rescue, to save you from the overwhelming group of warlords. Mitsuhide reached into the crowd and grabbed your hand, pulling you as he walked away. He smiled his snek like smile at the confused look on his fellow warlords faces as he led you out of the room.

He showed you around the castle while observing you for any signs or proof that you were, in fact, an assassin or spy. But he found none; instead, he found a shy reserved little mouse, who was too shy to even meet his eyes. Finally after a long day of touring around the castle Mitsuhide showed you to your new room. He bid you good night, with a kiss on the hand and left.

The next day you started to help out all the castle staff, you didn’t want to just sit around and do nothing. So you opted to help out the maids, and deliver messages for Nobunaga. Hideyoshi still didn’t trust you, but that all changed one day.

You were sitting with all the warlords in the banquet hall, people watching and observing the world around you, when something caught your attention. You saw a glint of something coming from the corner of the room. You narrowed your eyes and tried to focus on it to get a better look, when your heart suddenly stopped. It was an arrow that was aimed right for Nobunaga. Thank the lucky stars for your observational skills, as it gave you time to get up and jump right in front of its path right before it could hit Nobunaga. To be fair, it may not have been the best plan, but it was the best one you could come up with thinking on your feet. The arrow embedded itself in your arm and before you could even say anything, the warlords had the attacker surrounded. Hideyoshi was going to scold you for pushing his lord, but when he saw the blood dripping down and arrow embedded in your arm, he realized that you had yet again saved his lord’s life and that you were no enemy.

Surprisingly enough it was Mitsuhide who was at your side in seconds, picking you up and taking you back to your room to patch you up. None of you spoke as he gently treated your wound. Each of you were lost in your own world. He had noticed from watching you, that you were quite a naïve and trusting creature. You hadn’t yet been tainted by the cruel realities of this world. He felt this overwhelming need to want to protect you and get to know you better.After he patched you up, he went over to Nobunaga and asked to become your teacher to help you survive the turbulent times, cause it was clear from the incident that you had 0 self-preservation skills.

The next day Mitsuhide made his way up to your room to give you, your first lesson, when he spotted you immersed in your art. He stood beside you and watched you design a kimono. It was absolutely stunning, he was awestruck at your talents. Once the sketch was done, you looked up and saw Mitsuhide sitting beside you, in your shock, you fell back. Perfect opportunity for Mitsuhide to take hold of your sketchbook and page through it. He was shook, you were truly a talented little thing. He then turned back to you and offered you a hand up to sit closer so he could start his lesson. And when you saw the books he had brought you unconsciously made a big sigh. Out of all the topics Mitsuhide had set out to teach you about, why was math one of them. He laughed, as you pouted at the thought of having to sit through a maths lecture.

Despite your hate for math, thankfully, your school taught you well, and you breezed through the lesson. When Mitsuhide came to the stopping point for the day, he made the two of you some tea. He knew there was more to you than that shy exterior, and he was determined to get to know the little mouse within a little bit better.

Everyday Mitsuhide came by your room, to teach you about various topics and subjects, ranging from economics to self-defence. It had been about a month of these lessons, and with each one, you started getting more and more comfortable around the Kitsune. He was a kind and patient teacher and would explain concepts over and over again until you understood them.

Mitsuhide got a full glimpse of your true personality when he taught you about the human condition, human nature, and the psychology of the masses. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the glimmer of excitement in yours. That day you had actually been the one to teach sneki boy some stuff, as these were topics that you knew a fair amount on. The two of you sat for hours and hours chatting about social sciences, and you loved every moment of it. Mitsuhide enjoyed this new side of you, chatting freely about the things that interested you and honestly your smile was simply just too radiant to look at.

In the weeks that followed your lesson with Mitsu ended, but his daily visits didn’t. He had successfully made that transition from acquaintance to a friend as the two of you connected on a deeper level. The more you revealed to him, the more he fell in love with you and vice versa. He loved how you were just so expressive and adored your loud, animated side. He could sit for hours and hours just watching and listening to you, tell stories. As you would tell them in the most curious of ways.

He loved it when you would deliver letters to him and then stay for tea. Often these tea dates lasted well into the night, as the two of you flung teasing comments and jokes at each other. Some night the conversation was more deep and serious, but other night the two of you would just be crackheads at 3am, joking and chatting about the most random of topics. Often you would catch yourself mid-laugh and just think about how much you loved this sneki boi. To the world, the two of you were mysterious, reserved, but together your true personalities came out, and you could be yourselves.

Mitsuhide loved how you just raised the energy in any room you walked into. You managed to brighten even the dullest of situations with your chaotic, playful energy. And Mitsuhide low key loved that he was to only one that got to see it, as you were still a tiny bit shy with the other warlords.

Mitsuhide had long ago fallen in love with you, but the day he knew you were truly the one for him was when you were out in the market shopping. He had spotted you buying some fabric for your latest project, and of course, he couldn’t let an opportunity to tease you go by. As he approached, he overheard you debating with some soldiers. They were badmouthing Mitsuhide, calling him an evil man and saying that he was better off dead. You knew of Mitsuhide’s past, and you knew the mask he showed the world, but you had also seen the true Mitsuhide. The kind kitsune that always tried his hardest to keep his friends and family safe, even if that meant turning himself into a bad guy. You squared your shoulders and repeated a quote that had always resonated with you to the ignorant soldiers, “"Tell me then, what is more noble? To be born good, or to contradict your evil nature through sheer effort and power of will?” That statement left the men speechless. Mitsuhide then came up behind you, scaring the soldier away, they knew better than to trash talk Mitsuhide to his face. Mitsuhide then gently took your hand in his, and took you out for some tea, where he asked you about the quote as it too had resonated with him.

When Mitsuhide found out you loved logic games and puzzles, he knew he had found his soulmate. At this point, sneki boi was head over heels for you, and he was determined to make his feelings known. He decided to confess his feelings using a puzzle box and a logic game for you to play. It was based on a series of puzzles and riddles that you needed to solve.

It started the moment you walked into Mitsuhide’s manor to drop off some letters. You were greeted by a snow-white fox and a letter attached to its collar. You solved puzzle after puzzle and riddle after riddle. Eventually, you were lead to a flower field just outside of town, thank goodness for Mitsuhide teaching you how to ride, otherwise that would have been a painfully long walk. You rode to the big sakura tree surrounded by flowers that you and Mitsuhide had ridden to on one of your first outrides.

As you approach the tree, you saw a big gift wrapped up in delicate paper at the base of the tree. You slowly opened it, to reveal a puzzle box. It took you a few minutes, but you finally managed to solve the puzzle to reveal a small bell-flower on the inside and a note, “Look up.”

You looked up to see another gift hidden between the pink petal of the tree. Again thankful for one of Mitsuhide’s various lessons, you carefully climbed up the tree and opened the present to reveal a kimono. Still, not just any kimono, it was the one that Mitsuhide had watched you sketch that very first day. Your eyes started tearing up at the kind gesture. You lifted the soft fabric up and down fell one final note, “I congratulate you for completing all the puzzles little one.” It was a long letter confessing all Mitsuhide’s undying love for you. It also stated that if you felt the same way, then he would be at the festivals gate waiting for you and if not than…. You didn’t read the last part as you had long ago fallen in love with the Kitsune. You raced back to town where the festival was being held and standing by the entrance of the festival was Mitsuhide, just as promised. You wasted no time running and tackling him into a big hug.

The more Mitsuhide discovered about you, the more he loved you. He loved that you loved the arts as much as he did.

He loved to pull you into his arms and dance with you for hours and hours. He knew you loved to dance and music, so if you were feeling down, he would play you a song or dance for you. This always seemed to bring a smile to your face especially when he would pull you in and start dancing with you, and if you resisted he would tickle you until that bright, radiant smile that he loves so much is back on your face.

Mitsuhide definitely found it amusing that you would switch between “the world is great, and life is good” to “the world is cruel, and we suffer from no purpose.” Though whichever day you are having, he would be by your side to love and support you. He would make those better days even better, and on the days when you feel the world is cruel, he would wrap you up in his arms and protect you from the harsh world.

He enjoyed debating with you on the topic of humanity and good and evil. He loved to hear your opinions and thoughts on all of it. He agreed with your resolution about adding more good to the world then despair.

Often you and Mitsuhide can be found nestled in each other’s arms in deep conversation as he spends hours and hours playing with your hair. You have brought a sense of purpose to this boys life, and that is to execute his will to protect and love you for the rest of his days.

When the two of you are together, the room is always filled with endless laughs and teasing comments. You better be ready to travel all around with Mitsuhide as now that he has caught you he will never let you go. Trapping you in his arms and showering you with endless amounts of love and adoration for the rest of your lives

Other potential matches……………….. Yoshimoto

I hope you enjoyed this dear and I hope you have a super good day!🦊❤🌻

#akechi mitsuhide #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #matchups #matches #ikesen matchup #match ups #mitsuhide matchup #submission

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

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Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,006

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali

Chapter 39: Not Today

“Today we’ll never die. The light will pierce through the darkness.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Seoul – Myeongdong; Jung District South Korea

It was the calm before the storm.

Hoseok could feel it in his bones to the point where he swore that they creaked with each step he took. He barely heard what Namjoon was telling him as they approached the large building in downtown Myeongdong. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince him to change his mind; to postpone this meeting for another day. Or if it was something else entirely. Hoseok was only vaguely aware of the noises on the streets as they passed pedestrians on the path to their destination.

There was too much simmering beneath the surface for him to focus on anything outside of reaching his destination.

When he’d received the call from Taehyung a couple of days ago, Hoseok knew it was time for him to make his move. Yoongi falling ill and being hospitalized, even for a day, should have been the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back. Truth be told, Hoseok was in and out of meetings for most of the days during the week and had little time to spare outside of his business practices. Things were starting to look good. Things were finally beginning to take a positive turn, just as they planned.

Even with the instances that the Jade Fangs did show up, they were minor inconveniences at most. Hoseok was made aware of the slight against Eden, Jungkook’s girlfriend. He offered to have her monitored, but at Jungkook’s behest, he didn’t follow through. Eden was apparently a woman who valued her personal life and her privacy. The last thing she wanted was anyone shadowing her unnecessarily, even if it was for her own protection. From what he was told, Eden was also a woman who could more than handle herself if it came to a rough and tumble fight.

Hoseok did not pull his eyes back from Raelyn, even if she was seeing Taehyung now. There was always the chance that something could happen and at a moment when everyone least expected it. If she were ever made aware of it, he would apologize for it later. In this case, it was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

Old habits die hard, as they say…

Feet shuffled to a halt as he stood in front of the large building, Namjoon at his side. The two of them looked up at the high-rise, the sun already sinking beyond the horizon and down below the tree lines. The twilight hour was upon them and the world was still just as busy buzzing with life. As it would continue to do for many days to come.

Clearing his throat, he began to move forward – approaching the sliding glass doors. “Let’s go,” he said just as the doors opened to grant them entrance.

Two security guards approached them from either side, causing the two men to stop in the main lobby. Hoseok lofted a brow at each of them and Namjoon shuffled just a little bit closer to him. His tan trench coat hung off his shoulders while he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pin-striped slacks. Lifting one hand from the pocket, he undid the button on the matching suit jacket as he slid his aviators off his face.

“Im Changkyun is expecting me,” came his even reply as he put the shades into the inner pocket of his jacket, “so be good boys and step aside.”

Hoseok didn’t bother hiding his irritation. He wanted it known that this wasn’t some pleasant little business meeting or a check-in visit. This was nothing of the sort.

This…was personal.

A phone rang at the secretary’s desk, snapping her out of her momentary trance at the small incident that was stirring in the lobby. The two security guards continued to block Hoseok’s path, but then the woman quickly stood from her seat and bowed before hanging up the phone. She clapped her hands to get the guards’ attention.

“Chairman Im said to let them through.”

The guards stood there a little while longer before finally stepping to the side, giving both Hoseok and Namjoon a clear path. They approached the desk where the young woman handed Hoseok a keycard. She bowed in apologies before pointing to the corridor off to the right.

“If you take that hallway, there are sets of elevators. The key card will give you access to the Chairman’s office on the top floor.”

Hoseok flashed her a polite grin, waving the card at her clamped between his fingers. “Thank you.”

And without so much as a second glance, he began heading toward the hallway. Namjoon followed behind him, making sure that the two security guards weren’t intent on doing something stupid. Hoseok didn’t see his friend visibly relax until they were alone in the elevator.

He slid the keycard through the card reader, waiting for the elevator to begin lifting them from the ground floor. When it jerked slightly upon its initial ascent was when Namjoon finally spoke.

“Hoseok-ah? Do you think—”

“Don’t, Namjoon-ah,” he interrupted, staring ahead at their muddied reflections on the elevator’s stainless-steel doors, “not now.”

“We didn’t even discuss this with the others.”

There was concern in Namjoon’s voice, which was well-warranted. It was rare for Hoseok to go rogue. When he did, it was usually something small. He never made moves like this without discussing it with the others first. Seokjin always made it a point to ensure that everyone was on the same page so that none of them could get blind-sided. Strategizing and prioritizing situations before others was what helped the Golden Jackals climb up the ladder of success so quickly. Impulsivity had no place in their lives back then and it shouldn’t have now.

However, this time, Hoseok wanted to be selfish. He’d earned the right to be selfish. He deserved and had every right to be as livid as he was at that moment. Anyone who tried to tell him otherwise was delusional.

“This doesn’t concern them right now.” He cast a sidelong glance to Namjoon, brows furrowing deeply. “Honestly, I don’t even like that you’re with me. You should have stayed in the car like I told you to.”

Namjoon blinked at him, clearly jarred by his words. Or that he’d suddenly grown a second head. “You thought you’d just waltz into Im Changkyun’s business office alone, huh?” He snorted. “Yeah, no. Jin Hyung would have my head and I’m a pretty big fan of it staying attached to my neck.”

Hoseok grinned. “That’s not like you, Namjoon-ah. You’re usually the first one to show your guts.”

“Yeah, well that was then. This is now.”

The elevator dinged softly as they reached their destination. The steel doors slid open slowly, revealing a long hallway with a black and red carpet leading from the elevator to a pair of double doors at the very end of the long stretch. There was someone standing just outside the door, but they were too far away to be made out easily.

Hoseok stepped out and strode forward, Namjoon matching his pace. The closer they got to the end of the hallway, the more the person’s face standing just outside the door came into view. When they were only a couple of yards away, they could now tell it was Shownu. He looked between the two of them, a satisfied smirk etching his features. Hoseok peered up at the man who was older and slightly taller than him. His image from five years ago overlapped his current one and a phantom ache throbbed at Hoseok’s side from when he’d been kicked by the man in the rainstorm.

Shownu politely stood away from the door, gesturing toward it. “He’s waiting for you, Jung Hoseok.”

He nodded, casting his gaze over toward Namjoon. “Wait here.”

Namjoon looked like he was about to protest, but then Shownu placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, hm? I’m sure they’re going to have a lot to discuss.”

Again, Namjoon looked reticent. But Hoseok nodded, his earlier expression dissolving into a softer one. He saw his friend blink in surprise. He could only imagine what his face looked like, but it probably reflected an old version of himself he hadn’t shown in quite some time. After a moment, he watched Namjoon sigh before nodding.

“If you need anything, call me.”

Hoseok nodded again. “I will.”

He waited, watching the two men make their way back down the hall. Shownu turned off to the left, entering a room and Namjoon followed. But not before he met his gaze one more time. Hoseok took a breath, promising to apologize to Namjoon later, and opened the doors.

The interior of the office was what Hoseok would have expected. Pristine. Clean. Modern. There was the traditional name plate sitting on top of a black polished desk made of expensive and imported wood. The marbling on the floor was flawless and the furniture held a business design with sectionals surrounding a glass and metal coffee table. Elegant art pieces decorated the walls and off to the right was a large window that overlooked the entire downtown area of Myeongdong from hundreds of feet in the air. A wet bar was situated near the small nook near the back.

Hoseok wasn’t impressed, however. This was to be expected of Im Changkyun, the Wolf of the Jade Fangs. He hadn’t climbed up in the ranks and obtained his title of “leader” if he wasn’t capable of this level of eloquence and prestige. His ambition suited his taste in decorating.

Instead of stepping further inside, he remained near the entrance as the doors closed behind him. Changkyun was seated at his desk, immersed in a book of some sort. The computer monitor was situated, visually, to Hoseok’s right. When their eyes met, Hoseok didn’t smile even though Changkyun did.

“Oh, Hoseok Hyung,” he said, closing the book and sliding it just to the side of him, “welcome. I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when I received your call. It’s not often you take the time to come visit me.”

Hoseok heard the bitter edge to the statement but made no effort to acknowledge it. He gave a slight shrug, remaining where he was until he saw Changkyun slowly rising from his plush leather chair. The wheels shifted along the marble floor and it was in that moment that Hoseok reached behind him to turn the deadbolt on the door – synchronizing it to match the sound of the chair’s movements.

“Your boys have been paying mine little visits here and there,” he said, stepping away from the door, “I figured that I should return the favor.”

Changkyun flashed an open-mouthed grin. “Ah, yes. Yes, they have.” He reached up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Is that the reason for this, Hyung? Are the boys getting in your way?”

Hoseok scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Hmm, well that’s no good. I was hoping that was why.”

Slowly, Hoseok made his way to the left of the sectionals in the center of the office. “Because?”

“Because I’m still trying to figure you out, Hyung. I have questions and you haven’t answered them all yet.”

Changkyun’s words didn’t match his expression. Instead of looking inquisitive, he had the look of a man who appeared to have already won the game. It was a look that Hoseok remembered from many years ago – before the Golden Jackals were formed. Before they truly began to understand what the criminal underworld really looked like.

Before Im Changkyun killed the previous leader of the Jade Fangs in cold blood.

“Then let me give them to you.”

Hoseok’s body moved in a blur – matching the speed of his youth which was fueled by his anger alone. He knew he wasn’t in his twenties anymore. He hadn’t been fighting every day like he had years ago when his brothers and he first arrived in Seoul. Their lives were harder, but they were much simpler back then. When they were happier and driven to reach a future they could all obtain together.

He tapped into that feeling and rushed Changkyun’s desk – his trench coat flying off his shoulders and landing on the ground just as he went airborne. Just like that rainy night five years ago, during the gang war on the streets of Gangnam, he watched Changkyun’s smug look melt away as sudden realization washed over him instead. Hoseok cleared the chair at the head of the coffee table and landed on Changkyun’s desk in a crouch.

Jerking his right arm, the switch blade slid from the sleeve of his jacket and landed in his hand. He flicked the blade free, aiming straight for Changkyun’s neck. However, he knew that this wouldn’t be enough for the leader of the Jade Fangs. There was a reason he’d earned the nickname Wolf all those years ago. And it was because of his primal instincts.

Those very instincts came into play as he reached up to catch Hoseok’s wrist. Changkyun tried to pull his arm away from his body, attempting to keep the blade as far from his neck as possible. But just like Changkyun earned his moniker, so had Hoseok. The Death Claw didn’t back down from a fight because he’d looked The Grim Reaper in his face and spit in it.

Hoseok used his free hand to grab at his wrist, fingers locking over Changkyun’s and then pushing his weight forward. What distance was gained was soon minimized as Hoseok leaned in, the tip of the knife moving up and casting a shadow over Changkyun’s face. If he wouldn’t let him take his throat, he would jam the blade straight into his eye socket.

“H-Hyung,” growled Changkyun through clenched teeth as he glared up at Hoseok, “what do you think you’re doing?”

He could feel his arms trembling with the amount of force he was exerting. Changkyun was putting in just as much effort, causing a horrible stalemate that was on the verge of fracturing. The odds evened out as Hoseok watched him reaching up with his free hand to brace against his own wrist – mimicking each other.

“What does it look like?” Hoseok replied, his eyes narrowing darkly, “I’m answering your questions.”

He watched him blinking up at him in confusion. He was a young man Hoseok once believed to be full of potential and drive. Someone Hoseok admired years ago. Before he discovered the depth of his said ambition.

Silence stretched between them, neither of them easing off their stance or their grips. Hoseok felt a bead of sweat slip down his temple just as he saw one sliding down to drip from Changkyun’s chin. There were the occasional grunting sounds as one attempted to overpower the other, but outside of that, no words were spoken.

Changkyun finally let out a choked-out scoff, bitter disappointment evident on his features. Yet he smirked, regardless. “So, this is your answer, Hyung?”

Hoseok mirrored his gaze. “Yes, Changkyun-ah, it is.”

Something passed over the younger man’s face. But it was so brief, Hoseok couldn’t place it. At least not then.

“That’s a shame, Hoseok Hyung. A real shame.” He let out a shaky breath. “But if this is your answer, then I guess I have no choice but to continue the game without you.”

And then he moved faster than Hoseok could have anticipated. He released his hold and Hoseok felt all his weight collapsing forward. The blade nicked Changkyun’s cheek, but it was a sacrifice he willingly made. Hoseok realized this when he saw knuckles sailing toward his face. He pivoted in mid-air, changing his trajectory and his shoulder landed hard on the desk. Changkyun moved to elbow-drop him, but Hoseok whirled his legs into the air to block the assault, slamming his knee into Changkyun’s shoulder before rolling completely off the desk.

However, as he landed on the marble flooring, he felt pain exploding across his back and causing him to stumble forward. He quickly pivoted on his heels just as he saw Changkyun lowering his arm from where he’d had it extended – noting that his punch had, in fact, successfully connected. The two of them heaved, inhaling a lungful of air. Hoseok reached up to dab at the sweat on his brow with the back of his wrist.

A full minute passed before both men lowered their stances, silently agreeing that this discussion was at its conclusion. Hoseok turned to head toward the entrance, scooping up his trench coat along the way. Just as he made to unlatch the doors to the office, he heard Changkyun popping his neck before a breathy chuckle escaped.

“You’ve made yourself clear. So now I’m going to make myself clear.”

Pausing, Hoseok turned to look back at the leader of the Jade Fangs. But he chose to say nothing. Changkyun continued.

“What I do from this moment on, you no longer play a factor into it. What happens after today is a result of the answer you’ve given me. And I’m going to make good on it.”

Hoseok scoffed. “Is that right?” He rolled his eyes, unlatching the door. “We’re done playing this game with you. Do what you want.”

The grin that Changkyun gave him was the most wolfish he’d ever seen and it caused his spine to lock up uncomfortably, even for just a moment.

“Oh, I will. Trust me.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Just remember that it’s nothing personal, Jung Hoseok.”

Dropping the honorific was expected. Hoseok wasn’t surprised. So, instead of giving it credence, he simply exited the office and slammed the doors behind him. He needed to breathe. He needed air. So, for now, he would simply text Namjoon to come out when he was ready and that he’d be waiting in the car.

After he vomited his anger into a nearby bush somewhere.

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bandcampsnoop · 4 years

Audio

10/5/20.

Finally...a band I to which I often refer, buick, has reissued their only release in all of its glory. Originally released in 1992, this band was certainly a product of it’s time, but ahead as well. Yes, there are obvious (as the band concedes) nods to Sonic Youth. But there is so much more here. This was recorded well before the “formation of Mogwai, Godspeed You Black Emperor, Explosions in the Sky”. To me, this sounds as vital today as it was back in the early 1990s. In fact, Scott’s mentioned that his “favorite reference to possible influence[s] came from Thin White Rope's Guy Kyser when he stated after one of our shows, "You sound like Dick Dale with his brains knocked out." This is made all the more funny since I didn't know who Dick Dale was at the time.”

buick was Scott Lawrimore (guitar) and Jeff Clark (drums). While a drum-guitar duo isn’t weird today (Japandroids or No Age come to mind), in 1992 there wasn’t a band like them (maybe Spinanes...but not really).

Generally speaking, the band wasn’t entirely happy with the original mix - both felt it missed their quiet/loud arrangements. So, Scott enlisted John McEntire (Tortoise, The Sea and Cake) to remix.

But, only a guitar, and drums? How do you get this much out of two instruments. I asked Scott Lawrimore to comment:

How did you get the sound you did (on guitar)?Most cuts only have one guitar —like in our live performances—recorded in one take on two tracks. One mic was on a Fender Twin Reverb (made in the same year I was, 1970) in a large gym-sized room, and one mic was simultaneously capturing a 4x12 speaker cabinet in a small tiled bathroom. The bass and mids were turned waaaaay up, and the treble ratcheted down on the Twin to counter the jagged, jangling highs produced by the humbucker pickups on the Rickenbackers I used for most songs. Since we were just guitar and drums, all songs use open tunings and those bass-heavy amplifier settings to flesh out a ringing wall of sound behind the main guitar phrasing. I'm sure the tunings have official musical nomenclature, but I discovered them on my own through trial and error. As a self-taught, unconventional guitarist, open tunings helped me to 'find my sound' while also cutting me slack for not being anywhere near a virtuoso. There were four different guitars used for the album: a 1990 solid-body Rickenbacker 610 (for Lucy Conrad, Excellent Liar); a 1980 hollow-body Rickenbacker 330 (for Homage to Lucien Freud, Badhead, The Moon is Not a Yellow Sow, and Immortality); a 1970 Fender Jaguar (for Phrenology, and Brown Blackstars); and my first guitar, a sweet $100 pawn shop Les Paul copy (for Graves). The hollow-body Ric was my preferred guitar because it produced the most controllable 'voiced' feedback (a ridiculous amount, actually). Typically this would not be sought after, or embraced, but everytime you hear feedback on the album, it's intentional and coming from that 330. I always loved showing up to gigs with that guitar and the audience assuming we were going to whip out some Byrds or R.E.M. jangle, and then SCREEEEEEEEEECH!!!!—that first ear-piercing feedback driving half the audience out of the room...

Did Jeff just get to create his own sound?

Origin Story:[Scene opens on the crunchy, tabouli-stained Coffee House of UC Davis just before the summer break of 1990; Scott is behind a cash register wearing a t-shirt he recently spray-painted with the word "Hectic" under a smelly thrift store suit jacket three sizes too big; Jeff approaches wearing an On-The-Waterfront-leather-jacket over a 10,000 Maniacs t-shirt, his grease-slick-black hair partially hidden by a Stanford baseball cap.] Jeff [apropos of nothing in particular]: Wanna start a band? Scott [thrown off by 10,000 Maniacs shirt]: What do you play?J [confidently]: Nothing yet, but I'm going to teach myself to play the drums this summer.S [skeptically and expecting to maybe never see Jeff again]: Ok. Let's try to get together when you get back... Not-such-a-spoiler Alert: Jeff taught himself to play the drums that summer. Apparently he holed himself up in an unused bedroom of a house he was taking care of in southern California and tried to play along with the first two Throwing Muses albums that he had on constant repeat. Funny in hindsight that that is the band he chose considering what we ended up sounding like, but if you listen carefully to their songs like Call Me or Juno, you hear a lot of what was to become Jeff's rumbling tom work and syncopated fill sensibilities. In terms of whether I had a hand in Jeff's sound for our songs, the short answer is "no." When we played together for the first time, I had figured out all the parts for precisely one song—we called it First Song for a long time before naming it Homage to Lucien Freud for the original CD. For the opening chord progression, and just to get us started, I asked Jeff if he could play the drums of Sonic Youth's Tunic (Song for Karen) from the Goo album that had been released that summer. Of course he could. Perfectly. We played that six-chord progression three or four times through like we had been playing together forever when someone banged on the door yelling for us to "turn it fucking down." That was the abrupt end of our first session, but set the tone for everything that was to come... The fact that Homage to Lucien Freud now begins with Jeff's rumbling toms and bears little resemblance to Tunic is a testament to how all of our songs tended to evolve collaboratively. I would have a number of 'parts' or quiet/loud 'moments' or remedial-math-rock 'transitions' that I would play for Jeff and then he would figure out all the drum details for those sections. I had an ear and desire for song dynamics, but it was Jeff that perfectly filled and requited them. Learning those transitions and moments was key, but many songs had sections that we never played the same way twice—the call-and-response section starting at the 1:38 mark of Graves, for example, or the harmonics-to-mayhem-chord section starting at 1:54 mark of Badhead. When we played live, I would simply indicate to Jeff that a change was coming and he would be there with something amazing.

Scott Lawrimore is currently in London, UK (and has had a full career in art/curating/teaching), and Jeff Clark is in Ypsilanti, Michigan (and has had a full career as a graphic designer). This album was originally released on Lather Records (Sacramento, CA). The reissue is self-released.

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ofadan · 4 years

Note

Final Destination AU let's go 💦

notes: sort of spoilers for final destination, but not really? it’s literally the plot of the movies. featuring @ircnxveils, @addictingvictories, @byacatalepsy, @ofjamra, @swtsvrndr.trigger warnings: death, graphic death, violence, suicide.

they’re on a cruise — courtesy of adan — on the hottest week of summer. they’re on route to croatia, departing from venice, but as their fourth day of the trip dawns on them, they spend it in mykonos, relishing the transparent blue waters under their feet. they have just finished navigating their way around the pearly white buildings, halting every ten minutes just to take polaroid pictures of each other.

there’s one of victoria sipping from a coconut through a swirly straw, then there’s maya trying on a strikingly white dress in the middle of a bazaar, clearly flirting with the seller. in one of them, adan has sunglasses perched on top of the bridge of his nose and his tanned face brings out the contrast of his smile as he’s laughing at jaime, who is slightly off the shot. for once, it isn’t eliza’s scowl that is captured — the girl is beaming during their late dinner and there’s haleema right next to her, beautifully illuminated by the dim glow of the candles.

they barely make it in time — they’re on board with only five minutes to spare, and all of them are sighing in relief. their laughter resonates in the halls as they disperse to their own cabins, but adan feels a cold sweat rolling off his back, even though the air is humid, and a terrible feeling begins churning in the pit of his stomach. he drowns it out with a cold shower and a numbing episode of a greek show that he doesn’t even understand before getting a message that they should all meet up in the front of the ship, right where the pool resides in. they all chime in with enthusiastic responses and adan laughs at maya's selfie of her already submerged in the pool, the crystal-clear water coming up to the bottom of her curls. she certainly never snoozes.

then, the lights flicker in a way that settles a chill upon his bones, ominous in its existence — like a warning that shouldn’t be ignored. not that it’d matter anyway because exactly five seconds later, the ground beneath him shakes and he’s thrown all the way forward, his body colliding with the oakwood wall, which makes him wince in pain. once he composes himself, adan throws the door open just to see eliza barging out of the room at the same time, both of them staring at each other in terrified bewilderment. the captain’s voice cracks in the system, but he manages to catch a word about a crash and explosion on the deck.

naturally, chaos erupts among the passengers. they’re all scurrying from one corner to another, demanding life jackets in case of sinking and safety boats, and adan can’t blame them. he tugs victoria inside a janitor’s closet just as another explosion sends shattered glass in their direction, missing them by a couple inches. he hears a voice booming through the air again, warning them about the abrasive explosions and blown-off pipes. great. if they’re lucky, the fire and water will cancel each other out, but adan doesn’t have to be a scientist to know that soon enough, they’ll suffocate in the rapidly leaking water if the ceilings don’t get to them first because of the blasts.

it all happens so quickly. the wooden planks crumble under the force and one of the chandeliers spring free from the screws, falling right on top of eliza as she tries to escape the first floor through the crowd of panicked tourists. it pierces right through her heart all the way to the ground and as the light evaporates from the crystal bulbs, her eyes dim too.

haleema and jaime come next. as soon as they make it out to the main hall, the glass sculpture in the middle of the room doesn’t manage to withstand the pressure and tips over, killing jaime almost instantly. with so many shards now engraved into his body, mutilating him, it’s hard to even recognize him. haleema makes the mistake of peering over the railing to check the ground floor and the swaying ship tips her over the edge, right above the fence of the little botanical garden. she lands right on top of it, with one of the sharp tips peeking out of her mouth. at least both of them welcomed an instant death.

adan makes it as far as he can, almost to the deck where the waterslides start. unfortunately, he’s too slow — had he been a few seconds faster, he would have avoided being crushed by one of the slides after they shake under the weight of rusty pillars and bolts. he splashes all over the walls and ground, like spilled milk, except it’s all in crimson. although it all happens in under a second, it feels like an eternity to him ; the moment he closes his eyes, he knows something else is going to happen, and when he opens them again …

he’s standing right at the entrance, with a boarding pass in his hand and maya urging him to go forward with a slight push. it feels like his heart is beating ten thousand times per minute as the staff tries to take the ticket from him to check it, but to no avail, due to adan gripping it tightly. he’s the first one in line, which means that all of his friends are still behind him and not on board yet, and he wastes no time to turn around and nudge them back down the stairs with wide-spread arms. of course, there’s a chorus of ‘ what the fuck, we’re going to be late ’ and collective curses, but he pays them no mind — right this moment, he trusts his gut feeling more than anything else. “ guys, we can’t go on board. this fucking ship is going down. i’ve seen it —— ” he sounds frantic as he begins explaining, making sure to push his friends as far as possible away from the cruise. “ for fuck’s sake, we’ve all seen final destination! ” it’s too late for them to change their mind anyway — the ship rings its final call and a few minutes later, the bridge closes, and it takes off to their next destination.

the destination being death, adan thinks. he books hotel rooms for them and he keeps checking his watch rather anxiously. any minute now, any minute and the ship will crash, and everything inside will explode, and everyone will meet their demise, and adan will be right. however, after another hour passes by, he begins thinking that maybe he overreacted for no reason ( thankfully, there are plenty of buses and smaller boats to take in order to get themselves back on the cruise if it survives ), but when he leaves the shower, drying his hair with a towel, he sees victoria on the edge of their bed, wrapped up in a robe and staring at the tv screen. this just in —— a cruise ship that was on the way to croatia crashed with another ship as it was leaving mykonos. dispatchers are on the scene already and trying to rescue people from the sinking ship. for now, the number of survivors is unknown, but from the looks of it, there have been a lot of fatal injuries.

adan tunes out the rest of it. there’s no need to listen ; he already knows what happened. everyone in his premonition just died … everyone except for them. so, that’s how it’s going to be? they’re going to go out one by one, according to some fucked up order — final destination style. still, adan is hopeful. it’s just a movie, there are no strange supernatural forces that would design their lives and deaths in such a twisted way. they will live.

“ okay, ” he starts once everyone is seated at their dinner table in the hotel’s restaurant, forks hanging off their plates. it’s pasta night, but apparently, no one is that hungry. except thirsty —— everyone has downed at least their second glass of wine. “ listen, guys. if this is actually what we think it is, we need to save ourselves some time before we figure out how to cheat this entirely. maybe if we keep intervening … i’ve read a reddit thread, i have some ideas. ” he’s aware that there’s no cheating death and they can’t avoid this like clear did because truth be told, he would rather die than suffer in a psychiatric ward with no social interaction, but something has to be tried. someone says something about killing tony todd if he shows up to solve this and it brightens up the mood a little. “ the order probably goes like this: eliza, jaime, haleema, maya, victoria, and me. according to the order of our cabins at least. ”

they decide that this won’t let them stop from enjoying their trip. if their days are truly numbered, they might as well have fun before going out with a bang. maya and eliza decide to go for a swim while victoria, adan, haleema and jaime are in their seats, sharing a two-liter cocktail among themselves. they quietly discuss the premonition after jaime asks him to start from the beginning.

“ wait, ” victoria interrupts him, seemingly lost in thought. “ you said the front of the ship crashed into the other, right? ” adan hums out a yes, turning his head to find the red-head, keeping an eye on her. if they’re right, at any possible moment she might get sucked into the depths of the sea by a massive spiral. “ and if the pool is there, it means that —— ”

shit. all of them shift their gazes immediately and a shriek follows. fuck, it wasn’t eliza’s turn — it was maya’s. they soon find out that she’s been stung by one of the most venomous jellyfish and the dose was so strong that it induced an immediate cardiac arrest. she dies before the ambulance arrives.

maya marceli, time of death: 3:49 pm. cause of death: cardiac arrest.

they don’t get enough time and rest to mourn her. even though they try to avoid obvious traps and scenarios, death is always one step ahead. it’s loud and crowded in the club — so many shades of purple neon are swirling in adan’s eyes and he’s too drunk to even walk. he hears shouts coming from the vip section and he recognizes eliza’s voice in the sea of distorted sounds, and he hurries to her before something terrible can happen. maybe this time, he will be able to intervene. except he’s not because a fight breaks out and as hard as they try to break it up, it ends only when a broken champagne bottle is twisted deep inside her, most likely mangling her organs. they keep the criminal hostage before the police gets there and they spend the entire night in interrogation. all adan can think about is the light leaving eliza’s eyes, just like in the premonition, and the fact that all of their deaths are inevitable.

eliza cerrato, time of death: 4:07 am. cause of death: bleeding out.

death skips jaime for the time being.

a bus full of tourists comes out of nowhere when they’re hiking and haleema manages to get jaime out of the way before it can get to him ( it’s not her time to die — they know she’ll be fine when she surges forward to push him ). the driver steers the vehicle away, but it dives off the cliff anyway, resulting in death of at least twenty people. as adan begins losing count of zipped up bodies getting inside the ambulances, he realizes something: is this considered murder? maybe by saving jaime, they took away innocent people’s lives, thus they were crossed off the death’s list? they wait with baited breath. two days pass by with no casualties … the calm before the storm.

it’s two in the morning when he smells smoke. the hotel is on fire. adan doesn’t think as he jumps from his bed, almost naked, and peels the door open. he gets a flashback — crashing noises and screaming people, feeling like he’s tilting — but instead of eliza staring back at him, it’s jaime. there’s no room for spoken communication as they both sprint to haleema’s room only to find two bodies burnt to a crisp. he doesn’t recognize the other person, but by the looks of their … very naked bodies, he puts two and two together. at least they went out with an actual bang, just like all of them had wanted. they’re told there will be an investigation. looks like the bus crashing was all according to death’s design anyway.

haleema kanaan, time of death: 2:16 am. cause of death: burnt alive.

it’s victoria’s turn and adan goes more mad each day. he’s frantically trying to look for ways to save them, but all of the answers keep slipping from his fingers — deep down, he knows that there really is no cheating death, but he needs a faux sense of security to give him peace. he keeps researching and there it is ; a glimmer of hope. maybe he won’t live, but it will save them.

“ adan, what are you doing? get down. ” he ignores it. on the contrary, it prompts him to take another step closer to the ledge. will this work? he’s not certain, but at least all of this will be over for him. call him selfish, but he would rather not watch any more of his friends die right in front of his eyes.

“ i’m the last one on the list, right? so — ” he turns around to face victoria and adan, wincing at the wind tousling his hair and neglecting to acknowledge the terrified faces of strangers behind them. he vaguely hears them whispering to their phones, but everything in his head is buzzing and there’s blood rushing to his head, and he’s going absolutely crazy, and he just wants to die. “ if i kill myself right now, the order will be messed up. ” the breeze hits him a little harder this time and he sways, to which his friends respond by attempting to reach out for him. “ it makes sense! if i die out of my turn, we beat death! you guys get to survive! ” he takes another step. “ if not, maybe it will give you some more time. hey, you can make a baby together. new life defeats death, right? ” he laughs, almost maniacally. then, he stills, going quiet.

“ we should have stayed, ” he speaks up again, “ on the cruise. we would have all died at the same time, we wouldn’t suffer. it’s my fault — ” he looks up, his eyes boring into jaime and victoria’s. he takes a final step. “ — and i’m going to fix it. ”

adan garza, time of death: 12:20 pm. cause of death: suicide.

except … he isn’t the last one. victoria is. in the premonition, they part ways somewhere in between jaime and haleema’s deaths, therefore, there’s no knowing when victoria dies as the cabin numbers don’t entirely indicate their order. in reality, she would have been impaled by another ship’s pole while trying to jump out of the cruise to save herself from sinking, a few minutes after adan’s death. which brings to the conclusion that there’s also no way of knowing whether his theory is true —— after all, the man dies following the death’s list.

death takes away the rest too. their fate is inevitable. somewhere, far far away, zain and al are shaking their heads at them.

victoria villalobos, time of death: 9:14 pm. cause of death: plane crash.

james kaplan, time of death: 9:16 pm. cause of death: plane crash.

#‘ answered / 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. ”#‘ victoria / 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ”#‘ jaime / 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ”#‘ eliza / 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ”#‘ haleema / 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ”#‘ maya / 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ”#i didnt read this bc fuck that #there are probably things that dont make sense because im tired and continuity is not my strongest suit

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ithinkthingsaboutstuff · 4 years

Text

What is with Birds of Prey criticism?

i have seen BOP

and i have read comments and review’s from different people (male and female) and i have decided to throughout my observations into the void.

now personal taste is personal taste and everyone is allowed to like or not like whatever they want.

but i will be looking at this from a ‘structured’ pov so i will be breaking the movie down into what others have got to say about it.

and with that in mind i will be taking things out of context but i will be summarising and linking to the sources when possible.

i will be looking at how people have persevere them (again male and female) and why this might be so (but i will say now that it is only my best guess, and i will try to be as fair as possible)

and i will also add i have only seen the movie once at this point so i may miss some things or misremember others

so from here on out we this will be nothing but

------------------------------------------SPOILERS-----------------------------------------

ok so with that out of the way.

PLOT

the plot is basically

Harley and the joker have broken up (joker, dumped her)

this makes Harley lose her immunity in Gotham as she was protected by the fact she was the jokers girlfriend.

black mask is one of these people and is one of the most powerful in Gotham.

but he needs a diamond (that belongs to Helena) to be the most powerful in the city,

but when Zsasz and Black canary, get it take off them by a street girl (Cass)

Harley says she will get it back to square herself with mask and he will protected her afterwards

(there is also a b plot with Helena going around kill everyone who was involved with the death of her family)

things happen

and they all end up fight Black Mask men in a amusement park

and Harley kills him on a dock.

then they all part ways.

now this is an oversimplification.

but that does allow the movie to explore the characters and their relationship's with the world and the story.

but over all an average plot but no so more them say

-the avengers (2012)

-thor (2011)

-age of ultron (2015)

-spider-man homecoming (2017)

and so on.

Criticisms

this is what one critic had to say about the movie

review from Mick LaSalle

“but no, even that makes things sound better than they are. There’s no character there at all. There’s a look. There’s an attitude, and there’s an assemblage of mannerisms, but these are all veneers surrounding a vacuum.”

“None of them suggest a personality, beyond some generalized zaniness.”

now i am no expert but is having a look, an attitude and mannerisms all things that make up someone’s personality?

i can see if he was trying to say she has not much to add to the overall story or if it over shadowed everything in the movie, for sake of being “zany”

but it was integrated into the movies narrative as a the main story telling tool,

e.g. Harley’s narration and the cartoons/ animation that came with. those where there to add character to the movie through Harley’s, so basically Harley’s personality is the films personality.

and this is what he had to say about the plot

“If she wanted the Joker back, that would be something. That could be a movie. If she wanted revenge, that would be a weak motive, but it would still be something.”

now this has some interesting connotations,

what he was trying to say with this sentiment is only something i can guess, but i will want to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he was asking for a story similar to ‘mad love’ from the s4 of the Batman new adventures.

looking more at the sickness of that relationship (that some people admired and fawned over in suicide squad) so if that is the case then its not a bad thought,

however the way it is phrased makes it sound like more like Harley needs the Joker to be major part of the story for it to be any good.

but Harley has had comic’s for year’s that prove the opposite.

now to compare this what he had to say about the Joker (2019)

“What’s terrifying and brilliant about Phoenix’s Joker is that he seems to be operating from an intricate yet alien form of logic. There is very little common ground between the character and the viewer, no shared understanding of right and wrong, real or unreal. He erupts into laughter without warning — a terrifying, piercing laugh that he can’t control. He sits in the audience at a comedy club, joyously and maniacally laughing at setups, not punch lines.”

now i am not saying Joker is a bad movie, I am just saying that he complained about the lack of story and character in one film and praised it in another.

now i also understand that these films are different, and they have different tones and messages. and ever genre (one is action, the other is drama)

but basically

he is saying Joker’s lack of clear “personality” made the movie good and Harley’s made it bad (again this is apples and oranges, and way to simple)

but the main point is that he has failed to look for WHY Harley is that way, or how that adds to the movie like he did for Joker.

now moving on to

Anthony Lane

“ No one could call Harley Quinn a recluse. She loves to go out, get wasted, meet people, and fight them. In onscreen graphics, she proudly reports what it is about her that vexes her opponents. (“Voted for Bernie.” “Have a vagina.”) Yet Harley is often alone in the frame—marching toward the camera in her T-shirt and shorts, smiling madly through lips of fire-engine red, and peppering us with unceasing chatter, as if words were buckshot. She lives on her own, too, with a stuffed beaver in a tutu and a pet hyena named Bruce. (As with the title, note the surfeit of nuttiness. Rarely have I seen a movie strain so hard to seem out-there.) Our heroine needs some kindred spirits, and quick.”

ok benefit of the doubt this is just a colourful way to describe the movie and Harley’s set up,

however with the next paragraph that follows i don’t think so

“No surprise, then, that Yan’s movie, peopled as it is by women who talk among themselves, with only fitful reference to men, doesn’t so much pass the Bechdel Test as ace it, while also ticking the profanity box, the ear-splitting box, and the bone-snapping box—every box, in fact, except for the tricky one that requires a motion picture to be good”

the strange thing is that he was so close to an epiphany

yes Harley is social but she is lonely that is the point of her being with the BOP, taking in Cassie.

and saying someone who is social is not able to be lonely is the dumbest thing i have ever heard.

and i can name dozens of movies off the top of my head that is a group of guys ‘talking among themselves, with only fitful reference to women’

- the hang over (1,2 and 3)

- die hard

- pulp fiction

- fast and furious (all 9 of them)

- the other guys

- Sherlock (RDJ movies)

- the dark night

- scarface

- any Adam Sandler movie for the last 20 years

-memento

- rush hour (all 3)

- fight club

like damn dude your getting all bent out of shape for women having the nerve to want to tell story’s about other women.

(and i would also like to point out that very on in the movie was a ‘bad guy’ or did bad things all throughout the film and the men are just what they are up against you know like some kind of antagonist??? fucking wild idea right, and as we all know every female villain in movies are always written with respect and dignity, can you feel my sarcasm)

and this is what this man also said about ‘ford vs ferrari’

“Ford v Ferrari” is directed by James Mangold, and it may be his strongest film.

like dude you are showing your hand here.

but i am not wasting any more time on this dude.

let us move on to the lady’s

MOLLY FREEMAN

“the movie ultimately embodies different kinds of liberation - not only of women breaking free from their abusive boyfriends, psychotic employers and the restrictive boy's club, but also the freedom and power that comes with finding a group where they feel accepted and supported.”\

“Cathy Yan's directing and vision for the film, which is realized in the action, costumes and music. The fighting sequences are absolutely brutal and choreographed in a way to showcase the characters' respective abilities. Harley's gymnast moves make a return, and when she gets her hands on a bat, the Cupid of Crime really lets loose - and it'll leave audiences breathless with exhilaration. Birds of Prey stands out because it's uniquely female, from the characters' fighting styles down to the details of Harley pausing mid-fight to give her friend a hair tie. This further extends to the costumes, designed by Erin Benach (A Star Is Born), which are exquisite and perfectly showcase each character's personality.”

Susana Polo

“Each character’s storyline is given a slightly different genre and tone, as well, one of a number of tactics the production employs to mimic Harley’s manic internal life. Huntress stalks around Birds of Prey like it’s a Kill Bill-esque revenge epic, while Renee Montoya is in a hard-boiled cop flick. The main heroine ensemble actors all breathe a wonderful amount of life into little-known characters overdue for mainstream attention.”

“Winstead delivers a comedic twist on the Huntress’s classic personality that I hope makes its way to comics as soon as possible, and the 13-year-old Basco deserves particular credit for holding her own alongside Robbie in their many scenes together. Robbie’s Harley Quinn is just as scene-stealing as she was in Suicide Squad, appearing to operate on at least 20 percent cartoon logic at all times — a useful skill for an occasionally fourth-wall-breaking narrator. Cartoon-channeling is also a useful skill for the star of a movie with such splendid fight scenes.”

now i am not saying every man hates the movie, and every woman loved it that is insane and dumb.

but what does seem to be a common theme is that positive or negative, men and women are looking at different aspects of the movie

women look at the movie on its own terms and men seem to look by comparing it to other “guy movies”

now this a generalisation but this is a common idea that seems to run through it.

and here is some general thoughts from some people who have made comments, online.

female

“I am sick and tired of being told what movies I need to like as a woman, this is a bad movie. It isn't a zero nor is it a ten and anyone rating it that way isn't being honest either with you or themselves. The storytelling is odd and the flashbacks are weirdly placed to the point where they take you out of the movie. This movie has too much exposition and then not enough which I congrats I guess. I don't think men are rating this film low because they are "man babies" I think they are rating it low because there are far better superhero and anti-hero movies out there to choose from.”

this is based on personal taste and why it didn’t sit right with them (and that’s fine)

male

“A rush movie without any type of storyline and God knows where they are heading with DCEU and it's characters..It's only Harley and Harley who has never been in BOP in comics...Mis usage of characters and movie..Just make a decision where do you wanna go with your movies”

now this interesting, when this people has the same feels as the person above

they don’t look to the movie itself they look to find out evidence to discredit instead of anything in the film itself.

again i am not saying this person is wrong to feel this way i simply think the method of expressing it, is interesting.

(and for the record this is actually an incorrect statement Harley and Poison Ivy have been apart of the team at different points)

male

“The girls looked terrible like they were going Break-Dancing or something and Harley Quinn was dressed up like a Bird with makeup?? The ending was ridiculously stupid and predictable and the misogynist male pig attitudes towards the females in the film were jaw dropping cringe moments, like who acts like that??”

now this is about appearance, and the male characters, now this is showing that men see a violent, man who literally gets someone to cut a MAN’s face off

and the only thing they focus on is that ‘oh he is mean to women damn SJW’s’

that is the weird’s thing? like you the bad guy is bad to the hero’s? shocking.

now i am not saying that the character is perfect and well crafted like loki or kilmonger but he serviced the purpose he was meant to, he was powerful intimidating and unpredictable.

(and black mask has always been a nut case)

but i also think its interesting that these men who cry about SJW’s and how they mock men (and that does sometimes happen, it would be dumb to say they didn’t)

never seem to mind that that women get called bitch’s and whores in every other movie.or that women are used shallow props to move the movie along.

almost like it is distressing when you see someone you can identify with is treated like the peace of garbage.

female

“The Film was decent enough for a lowkey Friday night out with the girls. Nothing you'd rant & rave about or even remember seeing in a few months but it was entertaining in places. The script felt a little bit underbaked & the story itself felt a bit disjointed. The direction of the film was lacking for me. In a world where Todd Phillips pulled off Joker (2019) this seems like a more rushed project that would've been better at Netflix or even Amazon Prime for release. I think the deserve another crack at this movie & another attempt at something with a bit more substance”

honest to the point and is looking at the movie on its own term's

notice how she does not need to devalue other women to get this across, not the character’s, not the write or director but was looking at it from a personal taste and rewatchablity,

the anger about this movie is so strange

like how many hero movies have been worse then this and was not taking very chance they get to bash the creators and that they should not do their job’s because the movie had women as most of the cast and was mainly about them.

anyway i hand it over to all of you.

#Birds of Prey #birds of prey movie #Harley Quinn #bop #long post

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kaibagirl007 · 4 years

Text

Come Undone 6/6

( the final part of a mini side-fic series to accompany my RP with @dragontamer05 )

“Time travel… save Kisara… prevent this bullshit… ” Kaiba mumbled repeatedly as he made his way down from his bedroom and to the basement laboratory. The sudden epiphany had struck him at the most inconvenient of times, but once his mind had focused on the idea, it was all he could think about. “Time travel… save Kisara… prevent this bullshit…”

Once in the laboratory, he headed straight towards the computer with its multiple monitor screens and readied the graphics tablet. First, he had to design the time machine. Should he opt for a stationary pod or some kind of vehicle? The latter would be more practical in helping to generate the energy and velocity needed to break through the space-time continuum, but would he be able to construct a runway big enough to achieve that? It was quite possible he might need a whole continent worth of unobstructed straight open-space to gather such quantity required, so what about travelling vertically instead? No, he’d then have gravity to contend with. Unless he could somehow utilise the natural force to his advantage…

The pen suddenly sped across the tablet as Kaiba sketched his idea for a towering elevator shaft all the way into space. He then began to mumble incoherently whilst jotting down an array of formulas alongside it. “Trajectory… maximise momentum… pierce spacetime… dilation… goal.” A manic grin formed on his face as he began working on more detailed calculations that would enable him to put his theory into practice.

’Not what I would have advised…’ Seto commented as he stood with folded arms whilst watching his descendant work. ‘…but at least he is taking this seriously now.’

‘Seriously?’ Atem scoffed and eyed his cousin sceptically as he stood beside him. ‘He’s high, wearing nothing more than a shirt and underpants, and devising a plan that will most likely end in disaster for himself and/or others if it is ever implemented!’

’So you do not think he will succeed?’

’That’s not what I said.’ A frustrated glare was given before elaboration was made. ’If Kaiba were to dedicate all his time to this and doesn’t inadvertently kill himself in the process, there’s every chance he WILL succeed with such a ludicrous idea. My concern is, just WHEN does he plan to save Kisara? If he intends to prevent her kidnapping, then all is well; the fractures won’t form in their relationship and they’d remain together. But, if on the other hand he still feels himself unworthy of her, then he could quite possibly take things to the extreme and prevent her untimely death back in our time.’

‘And that would be disastrous, because…?’

‘Because history from then on would change! Don’t you see, Seto? If Kisara never sacrificed herself, you would go on to wed her instead of your actual wife. Therefore your children would not be born, and their children, and so forth. Your reign as pharaoh would also differ; that is if you even rule at all since there’s also the possibility you might have died without Kisara’s intervention.‘

‘Yet the world would know no different,’ A tired drawl interjected. ’If my death occurred back then, at least Kisara’s soul would remain free… Alterations are not always a bad thing.’

‘You’re prepared to erase the last 3000 years, just like that, and justify it in the name of love?!’

‘Yes.’

‘Humph!’

‘Do not scorn me for something you have NOT experienced!’ Seto snapped at the judgmental gaze that remained unfazed by his outburst. ‘I am perfectly aware that my decision is selfish. But if it were you in my shoes to make the choice between reliving a mortal life or stuck in eternal solitude, I dare say you too would make the same decision.’

Eternal solitude. Those two words said it all and caused Atem to take a moment to see things from the other’s perspective. Both of them had spent 3000 years, their souls trapped, isolated, and barred from the afterlife. Whilst his own denial was now over, his cousins were still ongoing. Not only that but whereas he was peacefully oblivious to the passing of time with no memories to recall, Seto had retained all of his. As if residing in limbo wasn’t bad enough, what torture must it have been to spend such a long period of time alone and haunted by the past with no end in sight? No wonder he’s so reluctant to return to such a place of despair.

‘I understand you’ve lost faith in the gods, feel as though they have forsaken you, and are desperately clinging to any scrap of hope you can find to ensure the prophecy is fulfilled and therefore able to move on to the afterlife,’ Atem spoke calmly to the man by his side. ‘But you are only torturing yourself more by watching Kaiba’s every move.’

‘I would rather be here by his side than all by myself with my thoughts.’ Seto replied whilst watching his descendant fill the computer screen with more equations and diagrams.

‘You won’t be all by yourself. The gods gave me free rein between worlds. I’ll stay with you until this whole thing finally resolves, no matter how long it may take.’

Curiously tilting his head to the side as he turned to face the other, Seto asked, ’Despite your own imprisonment inside the puzzle, you would choose to give up your freedom and instead reside in a barren void just to keep me company?’

‘Of course,’ Atem smiled up at the perplexed gaze. ‘It’s the least I could do as my show of thanks for the things you did to ensure I too could proceed to the afterlife.’

‘And yet you waste that very opportunity.’ A sigh was given and eyes diverted back to his descendant now calculating centrifugal forces. ‘I appreciate what you are trying to do, Atem, but if he does not fulfil the prophecy, you could end up trapped with me for the rest of eternity.’

’That’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

The two pharaohs looked at each other and Seto simpered a little. ‘I have a feeling that you will not take no for an answer; you are just as stubborn as him.’

‘Oh please, NOBODY is as stubborn as Kaiba…’ Atem smirked before extending his hand for the other to take. ‘… except maybe you.’

Ignoring the jest, Seto asked, ’You would really trust our fate in his hands?’

’Not would... I do.’

Seto may have lost his faith in the gods, but his faith in Atem remained firm. If the other believed so strongly in his descendant then he would too. Another simper as the offered hand was taken ahold of and together the two of them slowly de-materialised out of the underground laboratory.

—

Mokuba sat in the back of the surveillance van that was parked just beyond the boundaries of the Kaiba mansion. Pegasus sat to his left whilst Yugi sat to his right, all three faces illuminated by the huge monitor screen before of them as it broadcast live footage from the body-mounted cameras Roland and his teams were wearing.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Yugi asked the younger male. He knew that what had been decided must have been an extremely difficult decision to make and was there to provide support for his friend during the raid.

With a heavy heart and a close-to-vacant expression, Mokuba gave a slow nod. His brother had had plenty of opportunities to deal with everything that had kicked off more than eight months ago now, yet had only continued to get worse. “I never wanted for it to come to this, and wish there was some other way, but there isn’t…”

Seeing the boy in such a solemn state, Pegasus came to his aid with an explanation for Yugi’s benefit. “Kaiba-boy’s refusal to seek help for himself means that it’s now up to us to make sure he gets it.”

“Does it have to be right here, right now, like this?-”

“Yes!” Mokuba cut across his friend’s words. He didn’t want this to be harder than it was going to be. “My brother needs help. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“Of course,” Yugi calmly responded to the extremely curt interjection, “What I mean is, he’s not going to take being institutionalised lightly. Maybe a quieter occasion would be less stressful for everyone involved?”

“Ideally yes, but Kaiba-boy’s behaviour has become so reckless as of late, that to wait any longer could be fatal…”

Mokuba momentarily zoned out from the debate going on either side of him. His brother’s death from self-destruction was not something he was just going to sit by and let happen. They’d been through so much with his brother having made many difficult choices for them since they’d been orphaned. It was time to repay the favour.

“… If Kaiba grows to hate him because of this, I will not forgive you Pegasus!”

“STOP, JUST STOP!” the teen roared in frustration and soon found himself under the gaze of three shocked and startled eyes. “Yugi, I understand your concern as my friend, but I made this choice, no-one has coerced me into it. And Pegasus, do not speak for me on my behalf, I have my own voice, and will divulge what and when I feel is appropriate. I’m not a little kid anymore! Will you both stop treating me like one!”

Silence filled the surveillance van and was only broken by a crackling sound as Roland’s microphone was switched on. “All the teams are in place and ready to proceed on your order.”

“Thank you, Roland.” Mokuba’s heart was now thumping the most forcefully he had ever felt. This is it. I’m doing this for your own good, Seto. Eyes clamped onto the camera feed belonging to his head honcho and he gave the command. “Move out.”

The six teams,- each consisting of three trained security personnel,- began to storm their way into the Kaiba mansion. Earlier drone surveillance had made them aware of a rather sizeable function currently underway, so whilst the two lead teams’ aim was locating the ex-CEO, the rest would secure the premises and deal with the guests.

“Look at the state of the place,” Pegasus commented as the body-cams streamed footage of trashed halls and rooms within the mansion. What had once been proud and immaculate living spaces were now almost unrecognisable with broken and strewn furnishings as far as the eye could see. “Someone call Marie Kondo, quick!”

“She’s an organiser, not a house cleaner.” Yugi pointed out the flaw in the other’s joke.

Speaking of a house cleaner, I wonder what happened to Jun? Mokuba wondered. Had his brother fired their maid or had she quit on her own accord? He knew there was no way she would have allowed such a state of disrepair if she had still been around.

As the teams ventured further into the mansion, they began to encounter intoxicated guests wandering around or passed out in the halls. A couple was even so heavily engrossed with making out that they failed to notice the raid happening at all.

“Fuguta, have your team check the office,” Roland instructed before taking his own team towards the hall where the bedrooms were located. “Notify me at once if you find Mr Kaiba.”

“Will do.”

The two lead teams headed towards their destinations with weapons drawn in case of any hostility they may be faced with once there.

“They’ve got guns?!” Yugi was horrified at having caught a glimpse of the firearms in the streamed footage.

“Those are tasers,” Mokuba assured. “Like you said earlier, Seto isn’t going to take lightly to being institutionalised. It’s only fair they’re able to defend themselves from whatever assault he might throw their way.”

Roland’s team soon reached the closed door of the bedroom belonging to their ex-boss. Taking the lead, Roland singled for his two teammates to remain quiet whilst they listened for any signs of someone within the room. Confirmation came in the form of multiple voices moaning and groaning.

After the count of three, the door was opened and all three tasers held at arm's length pointing directly towards the mass of naked bodies interlocked in a heap on the caesar-sized four-poster bed.

“Oh my!” Pegasus was quick to lean to his left and place a hand over Mokuba’s eyes.

The teen let out an exasperated sigh. “I hang around with Joey, so it’s not like I haven’t seen stuff like this before.”

A lone and furious brown eye swiftly found a new target. “You and your friends allow him to watch porn?!”

“What? NO! Of course, we don’t! Well, that is to say, I don’t ‘allow’ Mokuba to ‘do’ anything,-“ Yugi could feel the perspiration forming on his brow as he talked. “- he’s his own person. If he chooses to view such material,-”

“He’s fifteen!”

“Fourteen.” Mokuba corrected as he casually pulled Pegasus’ hand from his face and returned to his observation of the raids.

“Many boys his age are curious about sex; there’s no shame in that.” Yugi stood his ground. Is this what it felt like to be an elder sibling and criticised for every choice made regarding the younger sibling? Suddenly he didn’t envy Kaiba and Joey quite so much.

“Joey should not be showing him such inappropriate material!“

“What Mokuba has seen is tame compared to what’s out there!” Yugi refused to be intimidated by the suggestion that he’d somehow failed the younger male; his peer; his friend. His tone became confrontational and snide as he continued, “Unless you’d rather I ‘allow him’ to discover the extreme stuff on his own? Quit being such a prude,-”

“Shh, quiet down you two! I can’t hear what’s being said on the stream.”

Pegasus relented upon seeing the protectiveness he had stirred. “Touché, Yugi-boy,” he sighed. “Times have changed, and the internet advanced so rapidly since I was his age… He’s lucky to have someone like you watching over him in place of his brother.”

Mokuba turned up the volume so could hear more clearly what was going on inside the mansion.

“Mr Kaiba’s not in there,” one of Roland’s teammates declared as he emerged from the bedroom’s en-suite bathroom.

Roland lowered his taser, turned to pick up the luxurious blue robe from a nearby chair and tossed it towards a woman whose effort to hide her nudity with tiny hands made him pity her. His view fixed onto the group of five,- four women and a man,- on the bed. “I’ll ask you all one more time, WHERE is Seto Kaiba?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” the man scoffed as he continued to grope at the woman he’d been penetrating just moments before. She moaned loudly from his touch before seeking out his lips with hers.

“He was here…” one of the other women answered. She leant back on her elbows and parted her legs wide. “…but as you can see, he came and went.”

As the inebriated group burst into cackles of laughter, an infuriated Roland instructed his team; “Have them all dress and take them down to the duel hall!”

“Yes, sir.”

Leaving the room at a fast pace, Roland activated his com-link to Fuguta. “Any sign of Mr Kaiba?”

“None.”

“Did you check the panic room?”

“Empty.”

“Dammit!” Roland growled through clenched teeth as he continued down the hall. He’d been so sure they’d find their target in one of the two most obvious rooms he could be in. “Okay, well, just sweep the mansion until we find him. He’s here someplace.”

“Roger.”

The com-link closed and Roland held his taser ready once more as he was about to open another door. To his surprise, it was locked. He re-activated the com-link, this time to his boss. “Mokuba, your bedroom door appears to be locked. I have a feeling your brother may be in there. Permission to break the door down?”

“Permission granted.” Mokuba cooly responded despite being slightly confused. His bedroom had no lock, so why wasn’t the door opening? Has Seto barricaded himself in there?

Taking a step back, Roland raised his foot and gave several forceful kicks to the locked door before it crashed open. He proceeded inside.

“Roland stop!” Mokuba instructed at what he saw from the man’s body-cam upon entering.

Roland complied without question.

“Do a 360, turn around, let me see the whole room.”

Again he complied. “Is there a reason why you have me spinning like a top?”

“Seto’s not there.” Mokuba verbalised his thoughts. His eyes were wide with awe at seeing his room untouched since the day he’d moved out. “He put a lock on the door to keep people out and stop them from trashing it like the rest of the mansion. He’s preserving my room; my space; my memory,-“

“That’s all very well, but it doesn’t help with the situation of where he is now.” Roland huffed.

Pegasus sensed the other’s growing irritation and took it upon himself to press for clues that might help. “You know your brother best, Moku-boy. Do you have any ideas where he might be found?”

“Well, if Seto is hiding then he would have used the panic room,” Mokuba stated. “But since we already know it’s empty, he could be just about anywhere. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.“

“Does he have a favourite room, one where he might go to relax?”

“If Seto knew how to relax, he wouldn’t be in this mess.” Mokuba shot back at Pegasus before taking a moment to ponder over what had been asked. “Maybe the garden, in the observatory?…Nah… Perhaps the games room, or music room, or,- Wait, I DO know! The basement! Either in his lab or the garage.”

“You have an underground garage?” Yugi asked in a slightly awestruck manner.

“Uhh, yeah. Where else is Seto supposed to keep his car collection?”

“I’m heading down to the basement right now.” Roland declared after having heard everything via his com-link. He was already speedily leaving his teenage boss’ bedroom and made a beeline for the elevator at the end of the hall.

“Oh, Roland, just a word of warning; if you’re going down there, we may lose contact.” Mokuba was quick to inform. “There’s been instances in the past when I haven’t been able to get through to Seto’s phone when he’s down there.”

“It’ll be a minor inconvenience if it the communications do drop out, but the camera will keep recording so you’ll be able to witness everything that takes place,” Roland assured as he entered the elevator and it began to make its descent. “This will be over soon, Mokuba. I’m sorry it’s taking so long...”

“Don’t apologise. I’m the one who kept dragging my heels in this, remember?” Mokuba laughed weakly.

During the last eight months, both Roland and Pegasus had been advising him through each choice he had made that had eventually led them to today. At times he’d been doubtful,- sometimes reluctant,- to do as advised, but they never went against the decisions he made and were transparent with him at all times.

“I think we’ve lost contact with him,” Pegasus stated when no reply came from Roland whose body cam now showed he was exiting the elevator at basement level.

They all watched as Roland made his way past the laundry room and was soon looking through the glass wall where the fleet of a dozen luxury cars were displayed. Most were various shades of blue/grey/silver/white, with only a yellow Lamborghini and a red Ferrari standing out amongst them.

“Nice cars,” Yugi commented. “No sign of your brother though.”

“Then he must be in the lab… Or maybe I was wrong and he’s still up in the mansion..?”

“I guess we’re about to find out,” Pegasus announced as Roland keyed in a passcode,- 23995346,- on the laboratory door’s security panel and was granted entry.

Practically sitting on the edge of his seat, Mokuba watched as Roland slowly inched further into the room. The gun-like taser was drawn so close to the man’s body that its tip blocked part of the camera’s visual field each time he moved.

“There he is!” Mokuba gasped as the back of his brother’s head and chair came into view. “I wonder what he’s working on?”

Pegasus squinted as he tried to make out the messy diagram and scribbles displayed on the monitors. “I could be wrong, but I ‘think’ that says ’Space Elevator’..? What could possibly be going through his mind to come up with something like that?”

“He wanted to be an astronaut when he younger, so maybe he’s planing on,-…” Mokuba’s voice caught in his throat as his brother suddenly stood and turned to face Roland. He could feel his heart ache from seeing the sorry-looking sight that his eyes viewed; his brother wearing nothing more than a pair of underpants and an open shirt that exposed a heavily scarred and under-nourished torso, along with a face so gaunt that it almost looked lifeless. What happened to you, Seto? Why did you do this to yourself?

As the taser was pointed his way, the tablet pen in Kaiba’s hand was angrily thrown to a side and his face contorted in rage as he shouted at the intruder…

“Why can’t I hear what’s being said?” Mokuba asked as he frantically pushed at the controls to increase the volume to the maximum level.

“I would guess it has something to do with Isono’s microphone being connected to his communications link,” Pegasus suggested. “This must have been what was meant when last he spoke; we’d lose audio, but at still have visuals.”

“Kaiba looks furious,” Yugi noted out loud. “Do you think he’s been told what’s planned for him?”

“Quite possibly,” Pegasus admitted. “Though I presumed the subject would have been raised a little bit more subtly than being announced outright,-“

“HOLY SHIT!” Mokuba exclaimed at seeing the taser fired.

The barbs had shot out of the barrel at high speed, missed his brother by mere millimetres as he twisted to the side, and pierced one of the monitor screens instead. Concern was felt for both Roland and his brother as electric sparks to fly in all directions, but that same concern soon became conflicted as the two men engaged in hand-to-hand combat.

“I CAN’T watch this!” the teen cried and scrambled over Yugi so he could exit the surveillance van.

Once outside in the open air, Mokuba tried to catch his breath. He felt shaken from what he had seen; two people he held dear,- who held each other dear,- fighting like enemies, partially because of decisions he had made. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t have allowed for things to get so bad! Why did I even think it would be a good idea to fight fire with fire in the first place?

His thoughts turned back to when he’d first chosen to make a stand against his brother. It had been in the direct aftermath of the break-up with Kisara, were each word to leave the other’s mouth was nothing more than an angry repellent to keep others away. He’d held strong at first but, crumbled when the words turned purposely cruel and offensive,- as opposed to the defensive nature which they had started,- and in turn, delivered back his own cutting words.

At the time it had felt like the only way to get through to his brother, though now he realised it had had little effect at all. Neither had taking control of Kaiba Corp to allow his brother the time and freedom to work things out on his own. In fact that had only made matters so much worse. I made a mess of everything… But I’m GOING to put this right! First, I need to stop all this.

His eyes narrowed on the mansion beyond the gated boundary wall. Aware that he wouldn’t be able to use the com-link to contact Roland whilst still down in the basement, Mokuba knew his only other option was to inform him directly. He passed through the large iron gates and began to sprint up the long driveway, unaware of Yugi stepping out of the surveillance van now behind him.

“Mokuba, wait!”

Feet repeatedly pounded the ground as the determined teen raced towards the mansion. His brother wasn’t entirely lost. He could still reason with, and save him, without the need for institutionalising. He’d developed a thicker skin to cruel remarks since then last time they’d spoken and would not give up so easily again. His brother’s words had just been that; words. He wasn’t hated like he’d feared. The fact his bedroom remained protected and in pristine condition, instead of having been reclaimed or trashed, was proof enough. Seto would have wasted no time in destroying any trace of me ever being there if he truly didn’t want to reconnect.

Almost there, Mokuba’s pace slowed and he came to a stop where the driveway spread out across the entire length of the mansion’s front. Parked before him were several cars in which Roland and his team had arrived, a riot van to hold any of his brother’s ‘guests’ if they got out of hand, and an unmarked psychiatric ambulance waiting to take his brother away. He felt a sense of dread beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. What if I’m too late to fix this? Seto will disown me for real this time when he finds out what was planned! Will he ever forgive me? I wouldn’t if I was him…

“Mokuba!”

He turned at hearing his name called and saw Yugi running towards him. This was just what he needed; a friend to help lift the confusion and provide solace. “I CAN’T do it! I can’t do this to him! He’s my brother, I can’t b-betray him like this. I don’t w-want him to h-hate me.”

“It’s not betrayal,” Yugi panted as he came to a stop beside his friend failing to hold back tears. “Your brother needs help, much more than you or I,- or Pegasus or Roland,- could ever give him…”

What?! Mokuba was now even more confused as he struggled to make sense of his friend’s altered stance on the matter. He questioned my initial decision earlier, so why isn’t he giving support or approval for my change of plan?

“… I understand it’s hard to carry through with such a difficult and heart-wrenching decision, but I believe you made the right choice by ensuring he is given all the professional help that he needs. Your brother will get through this,-“

“Y-y-you don’t know that. Y-you can’t promise that!” Mokuba stammered as he shook his head and sent tears flying in all directions. Why wasn’t his friend standing by him? Inside he felt a storm of emotions raging like a cyclone and let it free without warning, “WHO are YOU to tell ME what to do?!!”

Yugi had already steeled himself for such a reaction,- his young friend was still a Kaiba after all,- and remained calm as the troubled teen leered down at him. “I feel your frustration, Mokuba. I really do,-”

“HOW could you?!”

Again he remained calm under the scrutiny of those narrowed grey eyes. “Much like the ceremonial duel I had with Atem, you have to do what is best for your brother, no matter how arduous on your conscience it may feel. Believe in yourself, in your judgement, and help him proceed back into the light where he rightfully belongs.”

He’s been stood by me the whole time! The comparison hit home with Mokuba and he felt the storm inside him subside. He hadn’t thought of the situation quite like that. and now had a better understanding of his friend’s outlook on it all. “Yugi, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Fear and anger are strong emotions,” Yugi simpered with compassion and gave what he felt was a much-needed hug. “You’re not alone Mokuba. And neither is your brother. When he realises that, I’m certain he’ll make a full recovery.”

“You really think so?” Mokuba asked as he leant down a little further into the hug.

“I do. It’ll take time though, it’s not going to happen overnight.”

“But you’ll be there for me, if… I mean, ‘when’ I need you?”

“Always.”

Slowly, the surveillance van entered through the gates, drove along the driveway and stopped right beside the two friends breaking apart from their embrace. The side door slid open and Pegasus stepped out. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just… lost my nerve for a moment,” Mokuba kept his explanation brief. “I’m fine now though.”

Judging from the response he was given, Pegasus knew Yugi had done a good job of consoling the teen. “You’ll be glad to know that it’s almost over. Isono succeeded with his task of apprehending your brother, and is escorting him up from the laboratory as we speak.”

Mokuba simply nodded to confirm that he’d heard what had been said.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Pegasus asked, the silence now making him somewhat slightly unconvinced of what he’d been told just a moment ago. “It’s not too late to halt things if that’s what you truly want.”

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what Seto needs,” Mokuba stated flatly. His eyes glazed as he watched the crew of the psychiatric ambulance prepare for their patient. Whilst the nurse measured sedatives in a syringe, the assistant readied the restraints of the trolley bed.

Yugi turned to Pegasus, “How long will Kaiba be institutionalised for?” he quietly inquired.

“I don’t know,” Pegasus admitted honestly. “It would all depend upon a string of assessments to determine his mental state, and what type of/how much care is required. Then there’s the factor of whether or not he’ll co-operate throughout the whole thing. I imagine it would be at least several months before his release is even considered.”

“And what about his absence during that time?” Yugi continued. “People are going to start speculating when he hasn’t been seen for a while.”

“Don’t fret, Yugi-boy. A cover story will-“

“LET GO OF ME, YOU PERFIDIOUS BASTARD!!” The sound of the outraged scream was heard well and clear before the mansion’s front door had even been opened. It drew the trio’s attention and they watched Kaiba literally being dragged kicking and screaming from inside his own home.

“Seto.” Mokuba whimpered as his brother struggled in a rear arm lock hold.

“KUSO YARO!!” Kaiba tried to throw his captor over himself as he slammed backwards into him, but just couldn’t build up enough leverage needed to succeed. “Grrr, I make you pay for this, Isono!”

Roland knew better than to retaliate in response to the other’s angry words and simply continued to haul him towards the unmarked ambulance. Despite his captive’s weaker visual appearance, there was still plenty of physical strength making it a strenuous task to overpower him. With any luck, the other would wear himself out soon with all the resistance going on.

“I WILL NOT be placed in some mental asylum!” Kaiba made another forceful attempt to break free from his hold which resulted in him almost dislocating his shoulder in the process. It was no good though, Roland’s incarcerating clasp was just too strong.

“You won’t be confined to an asylum, you’ll be staying with me, on my island,” Pegasus informed as if it would somehow make the situation better.

Kaiba looked in the direction of where the familiar voice had come from and sneered, “Heh, I knew the CUCKOO and the YANK would be behind all of this!” his voice was coarse from screaming but wasn’t any less malicious as he glared at the trio of traitors staring back at him. “I expected better from you though, Muto. Then again, you had no qualms sending OUR friend to his demise. FUCK YOU and your FAKE friendship!-”

“Hurry up and sedate him already!” Roland yelled at the nurse as he struggled to keep ahold of the infuriated man trying to break free and start a fight.

“Hold him still.” The nurse instructed as he tried to get close enough to carry out the task.

More struggling occurred as Kaiba spotted the syringe in the other’s hand. His eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, “You’re NOT jabbing that in me!”

“Actually, ‘yes’ he is!” Roland let a frustrated retort slip. He was exhausted and not sure of just how much longer he could keep ahold. “I’m sorry, Seto,” he apologised earnestly before summoning what strength he had left and forced his friend face-first against the side of the ambulance.

“FUCKING CUNT!” Kaiba roared angrily with a freshly split lip. Roland’s bodyweight held him in place whilst the nurse sank the needle into his arm. “I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL EVERY LAST FUCKING ONE OF YOU!!!“

Mokuba fidgeted uncomfortably where he stood, shifting from one foot to the other. The whole thing was extremely distressing and he wanted it to stop, Now. No, I gotta stay strong. This is the endgame, it’ll be over with soon enough.

With the sedatives now administered, the nurse was quick to draw back from his patient. “They should start to take effect in a few seconds.”

“Good,” Roland panted and let go of the arms that were already bruising from the firm hold he’d had on them. He backed away to allow the other plenty of room to thrash and flail.

Instead, Kaiba staggered a few steps from the high-sided vehicle, sank down to his knees on the gravel and dirt, and eventually ended up on all fours. He stared at the ground, eyes wide, face dripping with sweat whilst breathing heavily as he watched a tiny puddle of blood form on the driveway. WHY did this happen? WHY didn’t they just stay away? WHY did they feel the need to form a pack and hunt me down like this? Why?…

‘Hey, there mister…’

Kaiba slowly raised his head to see an apparition of his younger self crouching down in front of him. The small boy studied him curiously as he leant on the soccer ball clutched close in his lap.

‘Are you okay?’

“No… I’m not okay,” he answered weakly, aware that he could no longer keep on lying to himself. How had it come to this? Why had he let things get so out of hand and been so reluctant to fix them? He was ashamed of himself and all he had become. “Get out of here, Go!”

Obediently following the instruction, his younger self stood up straight, failing to keep ahold of the ball and it slipped free from his hands. It was now that Kaiba could see it wasn’t a soccer ball at all, but the spherical puzzle of his heart. How he knew that it was his heart, he had no idea. Perhaps because many of the pieces were dented, cracked and chipped, just like him?

As though watching in slow-motion,- and helpless to intervene,- the puzzle shattered as it hit the driveway. “Nooooooo!” Kaiba scrambled to collect as many pieces as possible before they sank beneath the ground.

“What’s going on?” Yugi asked Pegasus nervously as they saw Kaiba talking to thin air before desperately clawing at the dirt with his hands.

“He seems to be hallucinating. Most likely a side effect of the sedatives mixing with whatever substances already in his system.”

Mokuba couldn’t bear to see his brother in such a state any longer, “Seto!” he cried as he stepped closer, and froze as the other’s wide-eyed gaze turned to fix upon him.

“Stay back.” Roland placed an outstretched arm in his young boss’ path for precautionary measures. If required, he wouldn’t hesitate to fully place himself between them. He needn’t have worried though as Kaiba remained where he knelt instead of carrying out the threat from just a few moments ago.

“M-m-my heart… it’s… b-b-b-b-bro-k-k-ken…!”

“We know, Seto.” Mokuba’s frown quivered as he fought back the urge to cry at seeing his brother dissolve into tears before him. “We’ve been trying to help you this whole time, but you wouldn’t let us-”

“I’ve GOT to fix it!” The scratching at the driveway became more frenzied though no progress was made with shifting the dirt.

“You won’t find anything down there, Mr Kaiba.” the nurse assured as he and his assistant each lifted their patient by placing their arms under his. “Come with us, we’ll help you to get well again.”

“No! No, no, no!” The objection was made with arms flailing wildly, but Kaiba’s strength was now not that much stronger than that of a newborn baby. “I need all the pieces!… Let go of me! LET GO OF ME!!”

All four onlookers found it excruciatingly uncomfortable to watch as Kaiba was hauled into the psychiatric ambulance against his will. Tears, distraught screams and feeble attempts of physical protest continued but failed to stop him from being placed on the trolley were he was then securely restrained to prevent him from thrashing around and causing any further injury.

“RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT!!”

Ignoring their patient’s demand, the nurse and his assistant exited the back of the vehicle and closed the doors.

“RELEASE ME!! RELEASE ME! Release me!... Release… me…” Kaiba’s screams eventually became nothing more than a weak mumble as the sedatives took a great effect of subduing him. He lay there. alone and paralysed with nothing more than the faint sound of Gozaburo’s laughter inside his semi-conscious head.

A driving motion was felt as the ambulance left his home. In all honesty, he would have preferred death over being institutionalised. He felt he could not atone for the things he’d said and done, and therefore had nothing left to live for anyway. At least in death, he would finally be at peace, free from inner torment and suffering.

The chortling grew louder.

‘You made your bed, now rot in it.’

#fanfiction #rp stuff #dragontamer05 #Come Undone #tw: sex #tw: drugs #tw: mental health #loooong post ^^;;

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deathbomb · 5 years

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In 2014, Sean Jewel conducted a massive interview with a gathering of Deathbomb Arc artists and label head Brian Miller. In recent years, the article has been scrubbed from the site it was originally posted at. We have gathered all of the text content for it from archival sites and recreated it below. Only one image from it has currently been found, picturing (L-R) tik///tik, William Hutson, and Jonathan Snipes.

No Genre, No Authenticity, No Problem: An Interview With LA Label Deathbomb Arc by Sean Jewell

Interview conducted with Los Angeles DIY label Deathbomb Arc, on the birth of clipping., the meaning of experimental music, and the curses and blessings of liking everything:

I love Seattle, but after developing a nasty case of seasonal-affected malaise last month, I did what any miserable person would do: took some work in Los Angeles, California. I later realized that the dates I’d be there included the evening of the Grammys. I began to imagine a scenario in which an award would be given to artists who take chances with music rather than make popular music, and little Los Angeles label Deathbomb Arc came to mind. I did what any self-doubting writer would do: I requested an interview. Deathbomb Arc is the label that birthed Sub Pop signees clipping., a group whose music works as much to entertain as it does to muddle and expand genre. Their 2013 release midcity did the unlikely and combined two of my great loves: electroacoustic interference music and hiphop. I wanted to understand the genesis of their sound, so I talked to label boss Brian Miller and to my surprise in one evening he’d rounded up two-thirds of the members of clipping., Jonathan Snipes, and William Hutson (Daveed Diggs was away and unavailable), rapper I.E. (Margot Padilla), noise musician Tik//Tik (Stephen Cano) and label videographer and graphic designer Cristina Bercovitz for an all-pro interview session.

I did my best to avoid the Grammys in LA. I sped up Mullholland drive, tumbled down Topanga Canyon, and watched paddle boarders surf in the sunset at Malibu. I went to Watts, talked to the daughter of Harlem Renaissance player Leo Trammel about the Charles Mingus Youth Arts Center. We agreed Los Angeles’ legacy of great musicians (Eric Dolphy, Schoolboy Q, John Cage, Ice Cube, Tyrese Gibson, Barry White just to name a few) was shamefully not its most recognized feature. I watched a girl play guitar at Watts Towers, heard her father sing, and became aggravated at the police helicopters looming overhead. I relaxed in the sun. That evening I found my way to Mid City LA and met the Deathbomb Arc crew at the home of Jonathan Snipes. We sat around the kitchen table and talked. My malaise melted and was recast as a sense of belonging.

My first exposure to clipping. was through their mixtape for No Conclusion. The group took a leak of Kanye West’s Yeezus, and the idea from their Twitter followers that Kanye might have been listening to clipping. during its making, and put together a mixtape over their favorite parts of his leaked songs (there weren’t many) that included their favorite rap music from the year prior. The person who pointed me toward clipping. mentioned to me that this label had been releasing artists music on cassette like the medium never went out of style. clipping. released an untitled cassette on Deathbomb and very few sold until their album midcity drew attention with a free online download. Midcity was also later released on cassette. I asked Brian Miller about that.

“I feel pretty out of touch with the history of its hipness. I put out the first cassette on Deathbomb in ’04 and at that point I felt late to the game.” He and Jeff Witscher (aka Rene Hell) put out work on cassette as Foot Village. He reminded me that the cassette has always been the chosen medium of the noise music genre and that it just never went away in that small corner due to its relative cheapness to produce. Brian is soft spoken and obviously cares deeply about music. He’s seen to it that his younger musicians get albums put out on cassette so they can see and hold quality, visible copies of their work. He does it to show them he cares. The idea comes up that older cars accommodate the medium, as well as the fact that it can be produced in any length cheaply. “The thing I love about cassettes is that nobody is making the argument that they sound better,” Snipes jokes. “They sound awful, so the the appeal really is all fetish or novelty.” "I have no idea what many of the younger acts I work with think about me putting their music out on cassette," Brian Miller says. "For them it’s not novelty or fetish at all, they didn't grow up with them, and acts like Signor Benedick The Moor have been completely shocked when I describe releasing music on actual physical cassette” I.E. is sitting off to my left and confirms the notion when he asks if she had an opinion about the release of her work on a certain medium: “I didn't care what the hell it came out on!”

I.E. makes painfully earnest hiphop that stems from her growing up outside of LA (in Inland Empire, hence the name). I ask her how her recent show in Seattle was. “It was terrible.” I played at The Josephine, nobody came, I just kind of played for the two dudes that lived there and the other act.” Brian Miller reminisces on bringing clipping. and Foot Village to Seattle and being well attended, but recognizes the fortune of those in their scene in LA, a place with no apprehension about putting a band on a bill because of their style. It’s this kind of availability and openness at venues (the last decade) that has given way to such a youthful music movement in LA (think Burger Records, Innovative Leisure, Deathbomb Arc).

Snipes, who is also a film score producer (Room 237, the documentary that investigates the myths behind Kubrick’s The Shining, is his best work, which he brought along Bill Hutson for) confesses his love for CDs as a music medium and his worst show in Seattle. He’s hirsute and talkative, smart, and nice. He has a lot of thoughts about music. He recalls his worst show in Seattle with his "ravesploitation" group Captain Ahab (one part of the genesis of clipping.) “I played the Baltic Room, the people who booked the show were very kind, but we got unplugged pretty soon into our set because people who were there weren't there to watch a sweaty white dude rap about buttholes.” Laughter erupts at the table. “It gave me the perspective that my idea—which to me was the most important part of that group—was totally offensive to everyone else on the bill, rappers and DJs whose craft defined them. Since then I've been on a bill or two with acts who I regarded as offensive.” Captain Ahab was a group born out of post 9-11 nationalism and moroseness of a nation, “What Captain Ahab was doing was acceptable in the circles we traveled in because everyone had gotten so conservative and boring, but here was a group of young people with no genre, making art a safe space for dangerous ideas, defending that idea at a point in America where people were questioning the way they expressed themselves,” Miller says.

“The modus operandi of Deathbomb is punk as a way of being in the world, and not a type of music,” Hutson interjects. He’s undoubtedly the dissident in the group. He towers over me in height, and he’s ruggedly good looking. There are things going on behind his piercing eyes. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does it’s profound. I’d heard of his work, but he surprised me with his in-depth knowledge of hiphop, noise, and punk. “If you listen to most punk now, it’s the most conservative, closed-minded shit you've ever heard. You can be punk now and not make punk music.”

His comment reminds me that I.E.’s work is a dead ringer for early-'80s LA punk. A self-proclaimed chola rave queen, she could be the child of Alice Bag, and her music recalls The Cholitas and X. “I do listen to that music, but I grew up on hiphop. I’m also big into Euro dance music and new wave.” The great thing about her album Most Importantly is that she reminds every hard-on about the absolutely horrid world women grow up in without a single sad face emoji. Instead she uses chip tunes, noise music, and hiphop to get her truly hilarious, truly feminist point of view through to you.

Besides I.E. and Brian Miller, everyone gathered is into theater or came from that background. Some went to UCLA, Daveed went to Brown, Christina is a well-known puppeteer in Los Angeles and has directed several videos for clipping. and other Deathbomb artists. “We studied very traditional American theater, what can you say about that? It makes you creative in a very production-driven way. It affects the way we all work together.”

“It’s also a style of art we’re all interested in, but realized soon into school that we really don’t ever want to make,” Snipes jokes. “We learned how to do all this by doing Captain Ahab (Snipes' earlier group). It took us a long time to learn how to brand things, how to package things,” Cristina adds.

Miller brings up the point that the improvisational ability members possess affects their love for their unorthodox performances and musical styles. That the training to recognize others' cues can direct you on stage—theater or musical—and take you somewhere further than just a recital of recorded work, can really bring the music to life. Snipes talks a bit about how theater relates to composing music: “What is the idea of this entire play, and does every decision you’re making support this one very simple idea. If it does not, you cut it, successful theater is based on this.” Hutson concludes, “The only other idea I would add is that what theater did for us, for Captain Ahab, and for clipping. is that we have no concern for authenticity. Lying is a performance; we lie a lot.”

“There is nothing explicitly sexist about speaking over rhythms.” William Hutson says, laughing. “You don’t have to say monstrous things about women as a rapper, they just generally do for some reason.”

I’d just brought up my theory that hiphop as a movement is incorrectly labeled as sexist. That people, rappers, as individuals can be called out for their actions or their speech, but the movement cannot. People don’t attack thespianism as a whole because the actor who plays Don Draper on Mad Men gives a sexist performance on TV, so what’s the difference with rap?

“Some people don't understand that. People do think that musicians go on stage and are the ultimate version of themselves,” Brian Miller adds.

People imprint themselves on music like no other art form. clipping.’s work especially has been regarded as more aggro than deserved (in my opinion) and Bill Hutson helps me understand why when I bring up the fact that I have feelings for abstract art (I feel as emotional at the lines of Judd and paint blotches of a Frankenthaler as I do at good music), yet I still understand the painters and sculptors of that period were not referencing me.

“But even abstract art was sold on the rugged individualism of Pollock as some cowboy. With the artist as the character and not the art,” Hutson interjects. “It’s all a bunch of bullshit to me,” he says, before shrinking back into his shoulders and staring into his wine.

Jonathan Snipes explains: “I always thought of my Captain Ahab lyrics as a sort of musical timbre. I responded to Miami Bass and Detroit Ghetto House music. I liked the drum machine sounds, the way they were programmed, the synths, and the words. The words in those songs just so happen to mostly be about women’s butts.” (Everyone at the table giggles. it makes sense, sort of.) “It wouldn’t be that type of music if we weren’t talking about women’s butts. The words you’re using can be a timbre choice. I think the same is true for clipping. I don’t feel like I’m allowed to say that, because I don’t write the words for clipping., but I would say that’s true of that band as well.”

He brings up a point I’d been dying to talk about. The lyrical choices on clipping.’s midcity are massive in terms of word placement. It’s clear that Daveed Diggs’ lyrics weren’t written into a cell phone that evening and recorded once, never to be edited. His story rhymes and raps are deliciously grotesque poetry about lost lovers, affection for the city, and blind loyalty to the street, that are as visually stimulating as they are precisely spit. I read that they'd been choosy about his phrasing. “Rappers don’t have editors," Hutson says, “except for Daveed, he’s been amazed that we have opinions, and will ask us which line or word is better, but that certainly is not how rap music gets written anywhere else.” The amazing thing about clipping.’s experimental hiphop is also the fact that Daveed seems to stand alone while rhyming, as the electro-acoustic interference and noise he raps over is not necessarily providing him with a rhythm, many times he is the rhythm, and the noise is the lead, but before I get to lost in my love for minimalism, the maximalist at the table speaks up.

tik///tik (Steven Cano) has been a noise-music fixture around Los Angeles for years. If there is a true noise music maker at the table it’s him. I’m surprised though, to learn that the vocals and vocal samples in his music are his own. Miller regards him as the most soulful musician of the group because of his earnestness, and I’m surprised at his personality in person. He's congenial, almost diminutive. He speaks quietly for having made such noisy music over the years. My favorite works of his Jewel Play, and Every Hex Is A Hearthache wrap his pop vocals in visqueen and duct tape and toss the kidnapped, dead idea of pop into a chilly slough. “I might push the volume, but there’s always something in the middle of that maelstrom of sounds going around in my music. There’ll be a horrible torch song right in the middle of my songs, and that’s what I’m worried about,” he says, quietly, almost unsure of himself.

If you hear his music you might be as shocked as me that he’s making pop tunes. His inspirations:

“I relate to Miami Freestyle, I used to steal my brothers N.W.A., I listened to LL Cool J, that’s kind of what attracted me to Captain Ahab (Snipes’ early group) originally because I like that Miami ‘booty’ sound.”

Brian says: “The first time he really struck me was on his tracks during ‘The Fruit Will Rot Vol. 3’; everyone else delivered really harsh noise for that compilation. Steven turned in these tracks that could have used vocal samples from pop acts from the '60s or something, but they weren’t, they’re actually Steven singing. I’ve never heard anything else like it." Then he sums up tik///tik in a single sentence, putting it in a way I'd never thought of: "How many people out there are like ‘Gee, I sure wish there was a group that bridged the gap between my harsh noise records and my soul collection?”

Steven's reply: “It’s part of the LA thing, though. I’m fine sitting between all these people. I’ve been on tour with them. Nothing is weird to me. To me I.E. has written the noisiest punk-rock track ever. Genre doesn’t exist.”

Speaking of LA acts going way back, and The Fruit Will Rot Vol.3 gives me the chance to ask Bill Hutson of what I’d heard was the genesis of clipping, his early work as a noise act called Beach Balls.

“It was a joke about all of the LA harsh noise acts at that time, people were ripping off one artist known as Pedestrian Deposit. Everyone’s music was coming out as blasts of harsh noise between ambient music cuts. I made the joke that I was going to do that in my band Beach Balls, but with harsh noise and rap a cappellas. It was just an attempt to re-format what everyone was doing by ripping off one guy. But instead of copying we’d switch out one of the genres for something I related to.”

The DNA of clipping. can be traced all the way back to that mixtape in which Bill uses a click track and a Ying Yang Twins sample to make a song called “Case Sensitivity” that takes the juvenile "whisper song" and turns it into an ominous hiphop adventure. Snipes recalls begging Hutson to form a band after seeing LA group Death Set play distorted radio-rap songs inbetween songs in their set. “I told him for years someone needed to do this as a band, combine noise and rap, and eventually I convinced him we should do it as a remix project. The first one we worked on was using an Insane Clown Posse a cappella.”

Hutson: “The reason I did all that, and I made all these songs that never came out, was because I was uncomfortable with the degree to which…it was a joke about taking these power electronic songs that are either explicitly or implicitly white-supremacist music, and I would beat match them with like Lil Wayne rapping over them. Because they were in the same tempo, and it was like, ‘these are two sounds I like and how do I deal with the fact that some of the music I like is really fucked up and I don’t agree with it’…” He goes on to rant about acts whose white-supremacist values seem to have been forgotten (or more likely not even researched) because their bands make for good buzz media.

Miller: “The idea was of negotiating between all the different types of music, and being able to touch base with them, but the culture at that time was not ok with us mixing those things. We mash things together so much that people don’t realize we love all these genres. You really have to listen to hear those things in there, the soul singing, Trina samples, J Mascis. We met because I once put out a very abstract tribute to Cash Money records, and I knew of Bill’s music, then wrote to him and found out we lived near each other. It was cool for us, but at the time it literally got me hate mail from people who thought we shouldn’t combine certain music and rap. Bill just happened to be into experimental music and hiphop like me.”

Hutson: “Very specifically, Cash Money records. When I was a kid I wanted to be a Cash Money Millionaire, and in 1998 I switched to wanting to be a No Limit Soldier,” he laughs.

As Brian points out, these things may sound like nothing weird at all now, but in ‘02 looked like a pretty defiant (read: punk) stance toward the standards of craven scenesters. Brian also previously put out a tribute compilation to No Limit records as well that asked bands to write songs around the idea of No Limit records. The DIY to stardom aspect of those labels are what inspired Deathbomb. Also the question of what it means to be a white person from suburban LA who loves southern gangster rap. The exploration, the experiment, was the point.

“Call it mysoginist, but those Southern labels supported more female acts at that time than any other label, I can name more female rappers from New Orleans than I can from any other city.” Earlier I mistakenly referred to Percy Miller (aka Master P, head of No Limit) as Patrick Miller, and Bill Hutson corrected me as soon as it came out of my mouth. I apologized. Dude is serious about his rap and hiphop.

What's the point of any music?

It would be taking advantage of the privilege of having so many experimental, electro-acoustic interference, musique concrète geeks in the same room to not ask: What is the point ? What is the point of music with little rhythm, few words, unrecognizable instruments? I look to the very intelligent members of this very noisy label for help.

“I might be the wrong person to answer that,” Steven Cano (aka tik///tik) says “when I’m making my music I feel like I’m Selena in the middle of everything. For me it’s another version of pop music, and that’s how I attack it. It doesn’t mean I don’t listen to other noise artists, but that’s how I know how to make music, that’s where it comes from”

“I love the sounds, personally. I find them exciting, and for me that’s all there needs to be is that the sounds are pleasing to my ears.” Jonathan Snipes says.

“What’s the point of any music?” Bill Hutson says, then crosses his legs and looks away and laughs.

But from I.E. comes something poignant as usual:

“The first time I heard these guys was over The Smell speakers and the hair stood up on my arms. I never knew what noise music was, but I kind of made it, and then when I was starting to become an artist I had the same feelings as these guys, like maybe everyone was a white supremacist or something, and being part of a group meant just getting together and collectively hating things. I tried to hang with punkers, because where I grew up hiphop was the music of gangsters, and though hiphop was my whole life, I didn’t want to be a gangster. Then I met these guys and they had this funky way of liking everything and playing it loud. I didn’t know what noise was but I saw tik///tik, and Beach Balls, and I just felt awesome. I felt so happy that there were people who didn’t discount anything or put things in a box”.

The conversation drifts and I let it. Most of these people haven't sat in the same room together in some time, and combined they have decades of experience making art. Clearly we have music in common, but just like I love to talk about Seattle, they love to talk about LA.

Hutson: “There’s also sort of an assumption—and you see this a lot when you play places that aren’t big cities or you interact with people who like noise but aren’t from big cities—there’s an idea that you’re making an extreme kind of music because you don’t like the music that the guys who picked on you in high school listened to. There’s an assumption that if you like noise that you dislike other things, like because you make this music you don’t like Mandy Moore, but the opposite is true in LA; you can do both.”

Snipes: “There’s so many weird nested little music scenes here that you’re not just part of the 'music scene' there’s a place for you here no matter what you do."

Brian Miller: “What’s been hard to find outside of LA is a scene of people who don’t play music that sounds the same, where the people are related by more abstract concepts and will share the same bill. There is a place for lots of acts who are not appropriate bar-rock acts.”

Hutson: “I’m interested in the character of underground LA music. For instance, what are you doing making music for a very small group of people in the city that produces mainstream culture for most of the world? You can’t be sanctimonious about it, either, because no one here is actually proud of LA. This is a city that when you leave and tell someone where you’re from they have no problem telling you how much they fuckin' hate it. Then they go home turn on their TV and look at my fuckin' city”.

Snipes: “I love LA for that reason. I’m scared of civic pride anyway. It’s like nationalism to me. I love a lot of cities, but I love Los Angeles because we don’t have that. Being from LA is neutral in a weird way, because we’re all at odds with our environment.”

Hutson: “Talking to Sub Pop and playing in Seattle at the Silver Jubilee I couldn’t believe how much un-ironic pride there was in something so simple as a little record label. The whole city stopped, you guys flew a Sub Pop flag from the Space Needle! I saw the mayor walking around the concert in a Sub Pop T-shirt. I just couldn't imagine that happening in LA. Could you imagine a street fair and our landmarks flying flags because we’re proud we made Transformers 3 this year? I love the sincere pride in a cultural product from the city. I told everyone that while I was there.”

This is the genesis of Deathbomb’s latest group project, True Neutral Crew, a trio consisting of Brian Miller, Daveed Diggs, and I.E. that seeks to make music from a truly neutral standpoint. Their original idea for their #Monsanto EP was an album written from Monsanto's point of view. Thankfully, being truly neutral, they made what came out—a smartly written, well-rhymed noise-rap record. But the very structure of the group is representative of their isolation, their lack of an option to have an opinion about. Their refusal to participate in a broken system.

We talked a bit about the "instruments" that Deathbomb artists use. Tik///Tik used a flower electronics brand synth called a little boy blue. The designer, Jessica Rylan, is well respected in the group (indeed, in noise-music circles in general), she did graduate work at Stanford, and she’s now at MIT, but has spent time on tour with Deathbomb happily repairing the gear they smashed, and playing music with them. Christina Bercovitz filmed clipping.'s videos with a Betamax camcorder, and a mini DV recorder after finding the Betamax camcorder in Jonathan's dad’s attic. Their ideas for a dirtier, noisier visual aesthetic are from talking to Hutson and Diggs about BET Uncut, a show that Daveed and Bill stayed up late watching in high school. All the videos from that era were prior to HDTV or any really clear video. I’m surprised to find, however that for all the noises one can find on their collective records, no one is really a gear head. I’m looking around the apartment and see only records and turntables. Jonathan does mention that since clipping. has become associated with Sub Pop they've had access to more resources than every before.

I ask Brian what the future holds, since clipping. is now signed to Sub Pop, and how he feels about them leaving Deathbomb Arc.

Miller: “I’m not afraid to stand up for what I want. I’ve known Jonathan long enough that I’m not embarrassed to ask for what I care about, but I’ve also been invested in his music for over a decade now, so I want to see amazing things happen for him. I have asked if they could do another album on Deathbomb Arc, as well.”

Snipes: “It’s in our contract, the contract is pretty exclusive, like any record contract, but initially it was that we would make music exclusively for Sub Pop, unless it was for a film, because they knew that Bill and I had done a film score together and I had done film scores on my own. And then we were like, we should be able to do a record for Brian, and they said okay. Sub Pop has given us absolutely everything we’ve asked for. I’ve yet to hear anyone say anything bad about them.”

Sub Pop actually found out about clipping. because Miller emailed someone in the label's IT department looking for a place to book a show. He shared midcity and it made such an impression that they got signed. I ask Snipes if he has a plan for the new music.

“Nah.” Everyone laughs uproariously.

“We probably can’t talk too much about it. It’s basically done. It exists, we love it, and if you turn that recorder off we’ll play you a track downstairs.”

I’ve never shut a recorder off faster in my life. I found my way downstairs into clipping.'s studio and started eying gear. I sat down at the back of the small narrow space while Jonathan and Bill decided what to play. In the end, I got to hear two tracks. “They’re too novel,” argued Bill. “They’re all novel,” laughed Jonathan. Jonathan Snipes, Cristina Bercovitz, Bill Hutson, Margot Padilla, Stephen Cano, Brian Miller

What I heard first might take me some time to process. It felt open, concise, like Jay Z's early work, but drugged and thugged, as if that same work had been produced by DJ Screw. The second track I heard absolutely blew my mind. The curatorial genius of Brian Miller, the film score experience of Jonathan Snipes, the distinct taste and unrelenting dedication to sound of William Hutson, and the writing and rapping abilities of Daveed Diggs came through like a rejuvenating force. What began as “harsh noise”—perhaps the harshest particular noise I can think of—becomes a gorgeous heavenly chord when matched with other harsh (very common) noises up the scale. Like I.E. said, the hair stood up on my arms, things were way out of the box, nothing (not even the noises we're ungrateful we hear) had been discounted, I felt like I belonged. Everyone in the room listened like they were investigating the music. I felt the electronic warmth of the wall of modular synths, MIDI controllers, drum machines and every kind of keyboard you can name. The noise drove through the room, mingled with the flesh, and even Bill and Jonathan enjoyed what they had made. When it was over I.E. looked me dead in the eye and offered to sell me weed, I laughed, because music is my shit, and talking to the folks at Deathbomb Arc already had me high as one can get.

For a good primer with what's going on over at Deathbomb Arc, pick up their new compilation called EVIL. Sales from it go to supporting anti-debt charity rolling jubilee and it features ridiculous spitters like Signor Benedick The Moor and VIPER VENOM, plus gorgeous noise from Sissy Cobb and Dreamcrusher.

#deathbomb arc #deathbomb #clipping #dis fantasy #tik///tik #sean jewell

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