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[sehtoast]

Sunset in July (Depowered!Homelander x OC) All of You is Left to Love Chapter 5

18+

2.3k

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5

Warnings: Vaginal sex, brief mentions of torture, brief mentions of genital injuries, soft smut, angst if you squint

Ben and Homelander share a date night two months after depowerment.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

So much had happened in the past two months.

Benny got caught up in a deal with Vought– one that would cease their pursuit to ‘reclaim’ their lost ‘property.’ In return for filling his seat in The Seven, the former Homelander would be left to live his life.

What little was left of it, anyway.

Benjamin spent hours upon hours, every night, going over that massive contract with highlighters and red pens. He made sure there wasn’t a speck of bullshit to be found– no tiny loopholes that would come back to haunt them, no fine print that dictated John’s mere existence was theirs to own and take back whenever they pleased.

All he could do was watch as his partner dueled the world’s most powerful corporate entity while his safety hung in the balance.

In the end, Ben won.

Not only that, but Benny secured a bargain for Vought to begin processing the necessary paperwork to get John proper documentation to prove that he existed. Forty fucking three years old, and he never had a birth certificate– no social security number, no ID… Nothing. Vought always covered for him, so why would he need any of those? Anything he needed to own was handled by them. His money, his properties– all of it was processed by Vought.

Which, of course, meant everything was theirs.

During this time, Ben balanced being Spider-Man, taking care of him, and warring with Vought. The web-head seemed like a dead man walking with how exhausted he was, but he never quit. He never threw his hands up and decided it’d be easier to have John be self-sufficient with his volatile emotions, never decided to just keep him locked away in their apartment for his safety, never abandoned those in need around the city to focus on the other issues at hand…

John’s injuries healed– bruises faded away, cuts vanished, scars formed…

If not for the shaved head and pink ridges traveling his right cheekbone and chest, John would be able to convince even himself that nothing had happened.

So, two months after his rescue, Ben took him for their first real date.

A celebration, he’d called it. The end of one thing, the start of another.

The former supe was petrified at the idea of going out in public, and Ben could tell. So, like any good wall-climbing boyfriend would, he set up a rooftop picnic and carried his Johnny to the top. Nothing extravagant, just drinks and food– a setting sun to bask in as they shared their moment, pillows and blankets to rest upon.

But, it was perfect.

It was nice to snuggle into his little spider without fear of pressure on his bruises, or the cut on his chest wrinkling and stinging. Curling a leg to entwine with Ben’s, losing himself in the rise and fall of his love’s chest, the gentle thrum of his heart…

The view of the early July sunset was beautiful, washing over the pair with a sense of serenity in waves of orange and pink.

“This is… nice.” Homelander murmured softly, his voice carrying a tinge of vulnerability. It had been a long time since he’d been content enough to bask in a moment so beautiful. The gravity of this… change always loomed over him, weighing down on his mind and body like a million pounds, but here, now… everything felt okay.

Like they were both able to simply take a breath.

“I’m glad,” Ben hummed, giving John’s hand a light squeeze. “We deserve something nice.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” John confessed in a whisper. “You’ve saved me in more ways than one, at this rate…”

Benny smiled and nuzzled into John’s neck, pressing a kiss to his flushed skin. “You’ve saved me too, y’know?”

As the last rays of sunshine drowned under the horizon, John tightened his grip around Ben’s hand, as though the light slinking away would cause the moment to fade into nothing more than a simple dream.

“I just… I dunno how to ever repay you for– well, for everything.” Homelander took a deep breath. With Benny by his side, perhaps he could learn to navigate this new world where he no longer knew himself. Maybe– just, maybe– he could figure this out.

Maybe it’d all turn out alright, just as his lover always promises.

He leaned in closer to Ben and brushed their lips together in a slow, tender kiss, savoring the taste of love and tranquility on his little spider's mouth.

"You'll never have to," Benny murmured against his lips, his hand coming up to stroke through John's brown locks. His hair had grown out to the length it once was, though it was shaggy and unkempt now. There was a certain charm to it, though.

He knew the reason his love refused haircuts was the fear of having his head buzzed against his will again. Ben vowed never to pressure him, especially knowing all that his Johnny had gone through.

His mind flashed back briefly to the scene he found in the cell…

"They'll never take you…" Ben affirmed as he looked into Homelander's worried blue eyes that always seemed to seek reassurance now. "You’ll always be safe."

He'd fight like hell to make sure John had a shot at this new life. He'd do anything to give his lover this chance- to help him work through the strife and trauma and come out of the rubble of change far stronger than he’d ever been before.

A lump formed in John’s throat, thick with emotions he dare not breathe to life.

Ben’s thumb brushed against the pink scar running along his cheekbone, and suddenly he felt the haunting memories of captivity pervading into the forefront of his mind. Yet, with Benny at his side, he felt safe, grounded, collected.

He would not unravel at the seams.

Not now.

”We’ll be safe…” He whispered hoarsely, his voice wavering just slightly. He nuzzled into Ben’s touch, warmed to the core from the comfort of his lover.

In this new, raw vulnerability that they shared, there was strength- an unbreakable bond forged through an unspeakably dark time. At least, that’s what Ben had told him. John leaned in once more, pressing another kiss against Benny’s lips, pouring every ounce of love and appreciation he could muster into the gesture.

A thank you for his rescue, for his mended wounds, for handling his breakdowns, for the borrowed clothes, for the sleepless nights where he needed so desperately to be held…

For fighting Vought, tooth and nail, to secure his freedom.

For simply being beside him…

By the time they decided to return to their apartment, Ben found himself riled up from all of John’s little touches and warm kisses.

It felt like a lifetime since he and John were intimate on account of the fact Homelander suffered injuries to his genitals while imprisoned. By now, however, they were most certainly healed.

The thought bounced around his head until he couldn’t contain the urge.

“Close your eyes, babe…” Benjamin whispered from behind John, his arms wrapped around his lover’s waist, lips at his neck. “I wanna…” He trailed off as his hand dipped down to run over the curve of John’s cock in his shorts. “Only if you’re okay…”

John’s breath hitched as shocks of excitement tingled through his body. Anticipation and longing spanning months, finally within reach. He closed his eyes obediently, shivering at the thought of what was to come as he leaned his head to the side to give his little spider better access.

“I’m ready…” he replied, his voice gravelly. “God, I’m so fucking ready!”

His heart pounded in his chest– such a uniquely human feeling– as he felt the warmth and strength of Ben pressed against him from behind. The raging hunger for intimacy coursed through him like a fire– burning away everything else.

“Fuck…” Homelander rasped, surrendering himself completely to the touch of the man he loved.

Ben inhaled deeply, nuzzling his nose behind the shell of John's ear. “God…” he groaned. “I fucking missed touching you like this…”

Benny turned John around, leaning in immediately to engulf him in a needy kiss, one eye open to navigate his grip until he’d lifted the former supe from the ground, his love’s legs wrapping around his waist.

“I love you.” Ben gazed up at him, grinning against the hands that cupped his face. “My Johnny…” Homelander's legs tightened around Benny's waist as their lips locked in a passionate embrace.

Their kisses began to deepen, growing more urgent with every passing moment. Hungry moans escaped from Homelander's lips as Benny's hands roamed over his body, caressing every inch of him, leaving goosebumps in the wake of every tender touch.

Benny lowered John onto the bed– never breaking away as he straddled him. Their bodies slotted together as clothes were discarded piece by piece, hands exploring with a familiarity only two bound souls could possess.

Homelander shuddered as he felt the warmth and wetness of Benny’s core grind against him, pleasure surging through him like pure electricity as they moved together in a rhythm all their own.

Tender, yet fervent, each touch carried an unspoken adoration for each other. John surrendered himself, suddenly less inclined to lead in this dance of theirs, content instead to be cradled and loved by his little spider. A bout of insecurity rose in him at the fact he couldn’t perform the same way he could once.

When he had his powers.

But any attempts to apologize for fatigue and resting breaths were shushed away, and lips pressed to him instead to silence him.

“I don’t care about that,” Ben gasped into his mouth as he slid his slick core over the length of John’s shaft. “None of that matters… Just you. Just you…”

He engulfed John in another passionate kiss, grinding down on him as their tongues mingled and moans reverberated against each other.

“I want you to take me however you want me…” Ben cooed. “Soft, hard… anything you want. Just take…”

John's breath caught as he listened to Benny's words, his cock twitching with need. He nodded fervently, a soft hunger burning in his eyes.

“Like this… I want you like this."

Benny pressed a kiss to his forehead and a hand to his chest, easing him back slowly. Their eyes locked.

John reached down to guide himself into position, keening weakly as his lover sank down on him with no hesitation.

“Hnngh,” he whimpered, the familiar heat gripping his senses. His hands grasped Ben’s thighs, holding tight as he tried to stave off his release.

So much time untouched left them both so sensitive.

“F-Fuck!” Ben hissed as his core worked to adjust to his lover’s girth. “So t-thick…”

Benny rose up, sighing softly before sinking back down, working into a pleasurable rhythm until he was rutting and riding his lover just the way they both liked.

Homelander’s hips started to work into a pace of their own, thrusting up to meet his little spider, their combined efforts working to build their respective peaks higher and higher.

“T-That’s it–” Ben groaned, moving John’s hands to position them at his hips. “Take me…” He threw his head back in a weak moan when Homelander’s biting grip finally registered.

Claps of skin, desperate breaths– praise and love all filled the room as they moved together in a desperate symphony of desire and passion.

“C-Close!” John called out, feeling the coil of heat building tighter and tighter in his core, his balls tensing up in preparation to mark his love from the inside out. “I’m– I’m not–”

Ben came down hard, grinding in circular motions against Homelander’s cock. “I want you to f-feel so– fuck– so good!” He leaned forward, taking John into a searing kiss, swallowing his whines. “C-Cum when you’re ready, baby. Don’t fight it…”

With that, he resumed bouncing on John’s cock, the rolls of his hips growing more languid as he coaxed his lover closer to edge of completion.

“Fuck! I–I’m sorry! I’m– Hah!” John groaned loudly, his hips rising to fuck hard into Ben through the waves of his orgasm, painting his lover’s walls with his cum. He felt it all the way into his limbs as the tingles of release coursed through him. Words spilled from his lips– incoherent at best as he moaned and babbled through his orgasm, his nails biting into Ben’s hips as though letting go would leave him castaway in a sea of bliss.

He trembled through the aftershocks, jolts like electricity dashing through him as Ben rode him to completion, his little spider's voice caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan as his cunt spasmed and pulsed with release.

“Ah– oh, fuck! Fuuuuck….” Ben panted, content to follow the arms that pulled him down. Lips met his, guiding him into a kiss he was too far from his own mind to reciprocate quite yet.

A sense of contentment washed over John– a rarity, these days. He’d dearly missed how quiet the world became after moments like this. His protector simmered down, the bad thoughts were kept at bay, and the worries he held for the future silenced.

After all, his future rested in his arms.

Moments like these… Ones where he could revel in the vulnerability of their afterglow, hold his lover, be held in return…

It meant the world.

“Love you…” Ben murmured weakly against his flesh, a kiss pressed to him to seal the promise.

The pair laid there for a while, basking in the afterglow, content to just exist side by side. Ben's hand crept up to John's hair, scratching lightly against his scalp to further comfort and relax his Johnny.

Just as they were both on the cusp of sleep, several loud booms echoed outside. From their position on the bed, they could make out the sight of reds, whites, and blues shimmering outside of the window.

"Huh,” Benny hummed cheerfully. “Would you look at that?”

John watched quietly as another blast of fireworks painted the sky, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Happy birthday, Johnny!"

edit: desktop view seems to be missing a whole chunk of this story, whereas mobile displays it fine. editor shows it's still there, so i'm sort of hands-tied as far as fixing it goes.

[whumpfessional]

A Lost Battle

Pt 6 of Circe’s Story, other parts in Masterpost.

Oh dear.. it's not great for Circe here... It's not like she has any say in an intraplanetary war.

CW: Slavery, minor whump, branding, hand whump ish

She hadn’t spoken much since that day. Not that it mattered. No one really cares whether or not the slaves can speak, just so long as they can do their duties. And that’s what the girl did.

No one else had mentioned it either. Someone had found her curled up on the floor of the servants' passage and had helped her down to their sleeping quarters. Someone had cleaned her up and wrapped her injuries.

But that was it. She caught some of them looking at her funny. Any conversation would stutter when she would come into a room.

Ka’hairal was often at training camps so the girl had joined the rest of the staff unless the children were around. Not that they were children anymore but that’s what everyone else called them. She worked and served and waited. 

She still slept in the children’s quarters, in her cot in the corner. Just in case. So when she was shaken awake in the middle of the night, she sprung up, ready for action. 

It was Ka’haidal. She looked at him with confusion, cocking her head. He put a finger to his lips and gestured for her to follow. She slipped on her shoes and followed him out quietly. They made their way down the quiet hallways to the Master’s office. The girl had never been in there and she watched in shock as Ka’haidal pushed open the door. He slipped through and she followed behind him. 

The office was empty. There was a large desk in the center and weapons of war decorated the walls. A large fireplace sparked in the corner, an archaic symbol of wealth. The girl pushed the heavy door shut behind her then turned to face Ka’haidal. 

He leaned his hands against the desk. “My father is dead. He was murdered by the Alliance on Torfan. Everyone there was murdered. Do you know what that means?” 

The girl paused for a second before lowering herself to her knees and bowing before him. 

He glanced down at her. “You may rise. We have things to discuss.” The girl pushed herself to her feet, keeping her eyes lowered. “I will be getting my own vessel. I would like you to come with me. I know you are well versed in mechanics.” The girl nodded and felt Ka’hairal take her hand. “Come with me. We need to get things ready.”

The girl followed, not realizing where he was leading until he knelt beside the fireplace. Before she could pull away, the grasp around her wrist tightened and he dragged her down beside him.  

“We have to do this. It’s the way.” He looked at her with what might have been pity, as one would have for an injured animal. She was still soundless, though tears streamed down her face. He grabbed a flat, round piece of iron with a covered grip at the end of a handle. It had been placed here before they came into the room. With intention, he placed the metal into the fire.

The girl started to try to pull away. Her mind had sheltered herself from the memories of being tattooed as a child but the terror overwhelmed her and she lost control. Her throat rasped and she tried to plead. “Pl-please. Ple-ease please Master please don’t-” 

Ka’haidal backhanded her across the face, his ring cutting on her scarred upper check. “Shut up. Don’t be hysterical.” He tilted his head to the right in disgust and she wilted. They waited in silence for the crackling fire to turn the brand white hot. 

The girl shut her eyes. And waited. A horrible scream ripped through the room. The girl wondered where it was coming from. It was so loud. And then she realized that her mouth was open and that she was screaming and there was the smell of burning. And oh god it was her.

The pressure stopped but the pain was still there and it was burning and she was screaming and Ka’hairal was so disgusted and she was worthless like this and she had to be worthwhile so she has to breathe and pull it together stand up keep breathing its okay don’t worry about the tears and the snot he’s saying something pull it together listen

“-medical attention. I’ll call the tattooer once it has healed. Worst case, we can tag you until we get back to planet if it hasn’t healed by then.” He waved her towards the door. “You may leave.”

The girl slipped out of the office and into the hallway, falling against the wall and whimpering slightly as her hand brushed against it. Oh god, her hand. She had to get to the kitchen. They’ll help her. She needs help. 

Somehow, she made it to the servants area and pressed through the door to the kitchen. One of the night staff ran to her, catching her before she stumbled over. They helped her into a seat and went to wake up the cook. 

“Ka’hairal is the master now. His father died. It was humans and the Alliance. He wants revenge,” she whispered this to the slave who helped her to her seat, before closing her eyes and leaning back, her head smacking the wall. 

The cook entered and started barking out orders. Someone placed something cool onto her hand and she flinched violently, before allowing them to continue the application. Someone brought a cold cup to her lips and she drank thirstily. She opened her eyes to ask for more when she saw the cook. And that broke her.

[burdenedreverance]

The English translation lyrics of a song about Yamamoto, sung in spanish. God I love it. Under read more. 

[LYRICS - Ryūjin Jakka | Yamamoto | Okabe][INTRO] (1:10)

Of the 13 divisions, I am GenryūsaiI lead the Sereitei, to keep the peace Formerly a murderer for the noble houses And thousands by my hands have already known the death Founder of the academy trained; Shunsui and Ukitake Formed the battalions, which are under my authority Those who died by my sword; they met the chaos. Watch the heat reach; 15 MILLION DEGREES! [CHORUS] (1:39)

Jakka Ryūjin! Release your flames!( a-aas!) In front of the commander, he has only Death! (mo-mo-morte!) Absolute Order! From the strongest Shinigami! (hey!) From the strongest Shinigami! You'll be afraid when my hell comes! The flames will come after you! Against me you'll be dead! Genryūsai, Ge-Genryūsai (Genryūsai)Yamamoto.. [VERSE I] (2:07)

An invasion, ryoukas want to stop the execution The order is to kill them, without at least cogitation Rukia, will not get away with everything that committed His sentence was decided And the seireitei learned! Ukitake and Shunsui, are they willing to end it; fight? Will you defend this human in order for Rukia to save? If you want the Duel so badly, get ready to kill Because I'm not going to hold back." When my sword wields! See the staff turning into; Zanpakutou Disobeyed my orders, with this serious crime Know that I will use Muchmore than my fists. You've defied justice, so get ready! [BRIDGE I] (2:48)

A betrayal was revealed during the sentence The real culprit, manipulated our beliefs The war that began, has not yet had its end. Aizen... This isn't over here! [CHORUS] (3:01)

Jakka Ryūjin! Release your flames!( a-aas!) In front of the commander, he has onlyDeath! (mo-mo-morte!) Absolute Order! From the strongest Shinigami! (hey!) From the strongest Shinigami! You'll be afraid when my hell comes! The flames will come after you! Against me you'll be dead! Genryūsai, Ge-Genryūsai (Genryūsai)Yamamoto.. [Verse II] (3:30)

Under the front of the Swords Aizen, wants the real key. Completing it is your desire, and for that it doesn't matter who'sin your way, you don't survive the end. In Karakura, let's see who will come out with the victory! Swords against Shinigami Itis the beginning of the war Traitors will feel, as my sword incinerates. Even if I create something to seal my zanpakutouI'll show you, why Gõtei 13 I lead! The strength I have in us; fists! Make your sword go down! It's your turn, Aizen, it's time to face meIf you merge with Hogyoko, you won't save your life. Feel the flames that even; your soul exiles. Even if you sit to Bankai, your death is a matter of time You, will pay As leader I sentence you Ido not care! To win I sacrifice my arm Haddou 96; Ittou kasou! [BRIDGE II] (4:24)

Quincys invade the Soul Society, they want to killus The leader behind it all, I know very well whoMy lieutenant is; I promise, I will avenge myselfSo Yhwach, get ready. I'm UP! [verse III] (4:38)

13 Divisions, move on without mercyThe order is given, kill them all in combatAfter 1000 years! King, face us again! For this time I will guarantee; That you will come outdead B A N K A I : Z A K A - NO - T A C H I! Higashi! - See the flames on the sword, the rising sun! Nishi! - Covering my body in fire, will not run away! Minami! - The army rises present! Nita! - Your whole body will consume! I've been able to avenge who's gone, my legacy, I'll move on to later. As a last order; Shunsui, you willlead the; Seireitei - and end the war(aaah)[CHORUS] (5:23)

[muselexum]

CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYAL

PORTGAS D. ACE - FIRE FIST ACE - WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

His post-timeskip AU is his main verse.

When Akainu went to attack Luffy, Ace stepped in at the last second to shove Luffy out of the way. While Ace didn’t suffer a direct hit through his chest, magma still made contact with his back thus severely burning his skin, muscle tissue, destroying his Whitebeard mark, and injuring his spine.

His crew stepped in as fast as they could to defend the brothers, and Ace was carried off to Law’s submarine alongside Luffy. He slipped into a coma which lasted close to two months and when he awoke he was bed-ridden, disoriented, and separated from his brother and crew. He kept asking for information on what had happened, to which the Heart Pirates finally told him that Whitebeard had died at Marineford.

Ace survived, but at the cost of Whitebeard giving his life protecting his sons to the very end. Whitebeard dying in a war that was started because of him was Ace’s worst nightmare, and he carried the guilt of that as he self-exiled from his crew. Where he was once eager to return to them, he was now ashamed about his continued failures and felt he didn’t deserve to see them again until he made things right.

Ace was devastated, but his physical injuries were so severe that he could not do anything about it even if he wanted to. To add to this guilt and feeling of helplessness, one day through newspapers he learned of the Payback War that essentially wiped out the rest of his crewmates. Guilt and helplessness turned into furious resolve as he made the decision to hunt down and see Blackbeard killed by any means necessary.

Close to two years after Marineford, Ace was finally able to travel on his own again. It was to his shock when he heard about the rising officer in the Revolutionary Army who became the Chief of Staff. Determined to confirm it for himself, Ace made contact with the Revolutionary Army and reunited with his long lost brother Sabo. The two are very close now and keep in touch, both looking out for Luffy and ready to step in if they’re ever needed.

To the rest of the world, Ace’s status is a big question mark. He has not been seen in the public eye since his intended execution and there is debate on whether he survived that day or not. Even many of his former crewmates are unsure. There are a select few that know for certain he is alive like the Heart Pirates, members of the Revolutionary Army, and Luffy who has it confirmed by Law, Robin, and Sabo on different occasions.

PLEASE NOTE: Due to Ace being alive, the fruit Doflamingo presented in Dressrosa was either a SMILE or a different devil fruit entirely. Due to Luffy and Sabo knowing he is alive, their circumstances for being in the fights would be different, though I will leave the details up to you. Sabo would still need to participate in the tournament as he knows the factory is beneath the colosseum.

[ BASIC INFO ]

NAME: Portgas D. Ace

EPITHET: Fire Fist Ace

GENDER: Male

AGE: 22 (post-timeskip)

IDENTIFIED ORIENTATION: Graysexual, Heteromantic

BIRTHDAY: January 1st

ZODIAC: Capricorn

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good

AFFILIATIONS: Whitebeard Pirates (former)

BIRTHPLACE: South Blue, Baterilla

CURRENT BOUNTY: 1, 000, 000, 000 Beli

DEVIL FRUIT: Mera Mera no Mi

[ APPEARANCE ]

HEIGHT: 6'8" / 193cm (post-timeskip headcanon)

BODY TYPE: Broad-shouldered, “inverted triangle”, muscular

HAIR COLOUR/TYPE: Brunet, wavy, almost shoulder-length

EYE COLOUR: Honey-brown

SKIN TONE: Sun-kissed

NOTABLE FEATURES: The freckles adorning his face, the massive scar on his back though often hidden

STYLE: During his travels Ace wears a heavy cloak that covers his torso and a plain brown leather hat similar to his former orange one. His hair has grown out a bit and can be put into a little ponytail. Click [here] or [here] for a general idea.

[ PERSONALITY ]

TRAITS ->

POSITIVE: Loyal, protective, fun-loving, polite

NEUTRAL: Sentimental, predictable, self-sacrificing

NEGATIVE: Reckless, short-tempered, explosive, vengeful

INTELLIGENCES ->

Bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, spatial

SUMMARY ->

Ace tends to come off as very intimidating at first glance, yet when he is approached he is overall a very polite and friendly individual. He has a general care for others even if he may not know them, especially children, as he is seen allowing kids to eat his food before wanting to go off and find them dessert on top of it.

After the loss of Whitebeard and the rest of his crew, Ace has become quite a bit more solemn on his outlook on life, but otherwise retains his kind demeanor with others. He does not laugh as much anymore, but there are rare moments where he is able to forget more negative thoughts.

Before he met Sabo and Luffy, Ace’s childhood was rife with rage and self-loathing. He grew up in the mountains with Dadan and her crew of bandits who provided the very basics, but he was otherwise left to raise and care for himself.

He was a very rough child. He knew he was the son of Gol D. Roger, and thus took all the terrible things he heard people say about the Pirate King and projected it onto himself. If his father was a demon, what was he? What helped change him was his relationship with Sabo and Luffy, who over time became like brothers to him. When Sabo was presumed dead, it was the first time Ace felt the loss of a loved one and grew even more protective of his loved ones that day onward.

Ace first set sail at the age of 17. It was not long after when he became stranded on a deserted island and encountered who would eventually become his first mate, Deuce. It was on this island that he also gained the abilities of the Mera Mera no Mi. The two faced some conflicts, but it concluded with the creation of Ace’s boat Striker that helped get them off the island.

From that event onward, Ace started building the Spade Pirates. His sole goal was to challenge Whitebeard and take his head, and thus turned down otherwise impressive offers like becoming the youngest ever Pirate Warlord. Ace loathed that Roger’s name hung over his head, so his way of breaking free from those chains would be to overcome the opponent who even Roger could never defeat. If Ace could kill Whitebeard and become Pirate King, it would prove to himself that he was more than Roger.

Very soon after entering the New World, the Spade Pirates were overwhelmed by Jinbei and subsequently Whitebeard, who had heard of the rising rookie that wanted to take his head. The emperor proved to be too much for Ace, yet instead of killing him, Whitebeard saw something special in Ace and asked him to become his son. Ace fell unconscious after the fight and was taken aboard the Moby Dick along with his crewmates.

Ace made continued attempts to take Whitebeard’s head while on the ship, all to no avail. His persistence eventually waned and he felt hopeless. It was one evening, with the kind words of Marco, that Ace made the decision to willingly become a son of Whitebeard.

Ace bore Whitebeard’s mark proudly on his back and grew to respect him more than anyone else. The self-loathing he felt for being the son of Roger would wane away as he finally found a father he could look up to.

[ ONE PIECE - MAIN ]

#ACE ( VERSE: survivor’s guilt )

Ace survived Marineford, but at what cost? All he feels he has left to do is to kill Blackbeard by any means possible. He cannot rest until Blackbeard is six feet under.

#ACE ( VERSE: before disaster struck )

Taking place within the canon timeline, Ace is the second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. He appears much more laidback here, still unknowing of the cataclysmic war ahead. This verse can range anywhere from his time on the Moby Dick to his search for Blackbeard after his betrayal.

#ACE ( VERSE: spades )

Age ranging from seventeen to nineteen, in this verse Ace is the captain of the Spade pirates and a rising super rookie. Powerful, ambitious, and reckless, Ace sets off to take Whitebeard’s head.

#ACE ( VERSE: problem child )

Ace is a young child, his age varies depending on the thread which in turn largely affects his behaviour and personality.

[ ONE PIECE - AU ]

#ACE ( VERSE: family matters )

After Ace’s survival, he fell into a coma and subsequently spent many months rehabilitating his body after he awoke from it. It was only after the Payback war that he could bring himself to go out and search for his family.

It was to his shock when he learned that Akane was on Sphinx with their son, and he made a beeline for the island to see the truth for himself. [read more]

Ace’s full tag list can be found [here]. You can choose to block specific tags, or block his general tag to avoid his content entirely.

[besanii]

Hi! if you'd like, I'd love to see number 6 (lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up) for your SM verse. Thanks!

Shattered Mirrors 58

Lan Wangji is standing by the window behind the desk, one arm tucked against the small of his back, the other resting by his side, when Wen Yuan enters the study. He turns as Wen Yuan gets to his knees and clasps his hands before him in a bow.

“Hanguang-wangye, you sent for me?”

“Wen Yuan.” Lan Wangji motions for him to rise. “I hear you are lodging at an inn in the city.”

Wen Yuan obediently rises to his feet and keeps his eyes lowered respectfully, though the smile on his face is warm and easy.

“Wangye heard correctly,” he replies. “It is only a modest inn, but it is clean and its furnishings sturdy. It is more than adequate.”

“That is good to hear.” After a pause, he adds: “There are rooms available here, if you do not mind that we are lacking in preparation. I’m sure Wei Ying would be pleased to have you stay here with us.”

Wen Yuan bows.

“Thank you, Wangye, for the generous offer,” he says. “But I do not wish to intrude. I am only here to deliver the antidote and call upon a few business associates, and then I will be on my way.”

“You do not plan to stay?” Lan Wangji asks, surprised.

Wen Yuan shakes his head and smiles.

“The nature of my business means I am constantly travelling,” he explains. “It’s the only life I’ve known—to be honest, Wangye, I’m not sure I would be suited to staying in one place for an extended period of time.”

To a man like Lan Wangji, whose identity is so deeply rooted in his nation, his people, the thought of not having a place to call home is unfathomable. Even during the years at war, when he had been constantly travelling along the front lines, Caiyi and Gusu had always lingered in the back of his mind, a constant, comforting promise. He remembers with a pang of guilt that Wen Yuan has not had a place to call home since he was very young.

“If your mind is made up on the matter, then I will not press the issue,” he says with a nod. Wen Yuan bows in thanks. “However, please know that the doors of Hanguang-wang-fu will always be open to you, should you wish to stay.”

“Wangye is too generous,” Wen Yuan murmurs. “This one is undeserving.”

There is something about the way he smiles—polite, detached, almost secretive—that stirs a faint sense of recognition in the recesses of Lan Wangji’s mind.

“Wen Yuan,” he begins, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “Have we met before?”

Wen Yuan’s smile grows wider, his eyes dancing with amusement.

“Does Wangye not remember?” he asks, the playfulness in his voice so similar to Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji is reminded that this young man was practically raised under his husband’s wing. “This one was fortunate enough to meet Hanguang-wang when he was still Er-dianxia, near Jiangling.”

Jiangling. He had been stationed there for a while during the war, when they had been preparing to march on the Qishan Wen stronghold in Yiling. It was there they had received much-needed support from General Ouyang in Baling, enough to turn the tides of the stalemate they had been locked in for the better part of three months. They had discovered Wen Chao there, rotting away in his own filth, barely alive and out of his wits.

It was also there that he had received the first news of Wei Wuxian in over a year, a cryptic message delivered by a boy, along with a note—

“It was you,” he realises. “You were the messenger.”

Wen Yuan bows. “I was.”

The air rushes from Lan Wangji’s lungs and he steadies himself against the back of the chair. It was Wen Yuan, all those years ago, sent to him by a mysterious ally, who had also brought General Ouyang to their cause. And then General Ouyang had delivered them Wen Chao, the crucial element they needed to turn the tide of the war.

“And your master…” Lan Wangji looks up at him for confirmation, half-afraid of the answer. “Who is your master?”

Wen Yuan keeps smiling.

“I think Wangye already knows,” he says.

——

Wei Wuxian is asleep when he returns to their rooms, curled up under the covers as the warm afternoon sunlight spills in through the window by their bed. He has been sleeping poorly, plagued by nightmares and lingering pains from his illness—although the antidote has helped ease the latter quite significantly—and Lan Wangji is loathe to wake him. But the enormity of the new information fills him, threatening to burst out of his chest at the very sight of Wei Wuxian, alive and well before him, after so many years.

He sits down on the edge of the bed beside Wei Wuxian’s head and watches the rise and fall of his chest, soft and deep in slumber.

All these years he had gone without knowing what had happened to Wei Wuxian after he left Gusu, not knowing where he was after the fall of Yunmeng, if he was safe or captured or even dead. He had spent all these years desperately searching for Wei Wuxian, vowing to care for and protect him, to shield him from any further harm—when in fact, it had been Wei Wuxian who had protected him from the shadows this whole time.

He brushes back a lock of hair from his forehead gently, leans down to brush a tender kiss over his lips, and feels Wei Wuxian stir.

“Lan Zhan?” he mumbles, instinctively turning into his touch, eyes still closed.

Lan Wangji laughs softly, his eyes stinging.

“Yes, love,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes and peers at him blearily, still clouded with sleep.

“What’s happening?” he asks. “What time is it?”

“Nothing, everything is fine,” Lan Wangji assures him. He presses another kiss to his forehead. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

“Mm,” Wei Wuxian hums, letting his eyes drift closed again. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Lan Wangji says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He climbs under the covers and arranges them so Wei Wuxian is nestled in his arms, head pillowed on his chest, over his heart, warm and pliant and alive—

He pulls him a little closer, holds him a little tighter, presses his lips to the top of his head as the tears start to fall.

“Thank you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Thank you, Wei Ying.”

--

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[passionate-reply]

Great Albums is kicking off Pride Month with a special feature on one of the weirdest and wildest queer artists of the New Wave era: the one and only Klaus Nomi! Combining glam, synth-pop, and opera, of all things, Nomi’s tragically short career is nothing short of mystifying. Check out the video or read the full transcript, below the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! In this installment, I’ll be looking at the self-titled debut album of one of the most unique, incomparable, and unforgettable artists in music history: the one and only Klaus Nomi. What is it that makes Nomi so noteworthy? Perhaps the most obvious thing is his background as a classically trained opera singer. While a lot of pop vocalists have some degree of classical training, it’s rare to find one who worked so hard to bring ultra-mannered, literally operatic lead vocals into an otherwise pop context.

The other thing I should mention is that Nomi’s voice part was the “countertenor,” giving his vocals an even more unusual dimension. Countertenors are men who sing in a high range usually covered by women, and even in the operatic tradition, they weren’t necessarily all that common, particularly since the rise of opera coincided with that of the infamous castrati--male singers who were castrated to preserve their prepubescent voices. The combination of partially electronic, New Wave compositions with these bizarre, but ultimately “traditional” vocals results in something that sounds simply otherworldly.

Music: “Total Eclipse”

“Total Eclipse” is probably Nomi’s best known track, due in part to being featured in the seminal concert film Urgh! A Music War, which sought to capture the diversity of the early 80s New Wave scene. Like a lot of classic songs of this era, it tackles the subject of nuclear annihilation, albeit with a nearly depraved, gleeful tone, that makes it feel like more of a party. For the verses, Nomi adopts a sort of rhythmic speak-singing, which was much more par for the course for “New Wave” music, only to shockingly explode into a powerful operatic rendition of the refrain. It reminds me a bit of how, in musical theatre, tension builds through spoken dialogue, before characters are so emotional they feel compelled to burst into song--or, of course, how recitative blossoms into arias in opera. In the context of this particular track, it’s easy to interpret it as an embodiment of how “cold wars” can suddenly burst into flame. While “Total Eclipse” was a new composition, written specifically for Nomi by Kristian Hoffman, this album also features several covers of past hits, such as “You Don’t Own Me.”

Music: “You Don’t Own Me”

Nomi’s covers of the Midcentury pop ditties “Lightning Strikes” and “You Don’t Own Me” repeat the structure of “Total Eclipse,” showing that this signature pattern of increasing tension leading to increasingly mannered vocals is just as effective when retroactively applied to pre-existing compositions. What’s also significant about “You Don’t Own Me” is that it was originally written for a woman, Lesley Gore, and its defiant assertion of self-confidence has long been associated with women’s liberation. Being openly gay, Nomi sees fit to leave the lyric “play with other boys” just as it is, and could be interpreted to be deliberately emphasizing that last word, intentionally queering his rendition of the song. Nomi’s ability to sing in a traditionally female voice range, combined with his eccentric, gender-bending personal aesthetic, makes the interrogation of traditional concepts of gender an integral part of his art. Some of the other covers on the album are even older than the Midcentury, coming from the golden age of opera, such as “The Cold Song.”

Music: “The Cold Song”

Also known by its opening lyrics, “What power art thou?”, “The Cold Song” is a rare operatic aria that was actually designed for the countertenor voice part. It was written by the English composer William Purcell, a noted fan of countertenors who lived outside the influence of the Italian castrati, for his 1691 opera King Arthur. Well, King Arthur is actually what’s sometimes called a “semi-opera”: not all characters sing, and those who do often tend to be supernatural entities. “The Cold Song” is sung by a winter spirit called the Cold Genius, when reluctantly awakened from icy slumber by Cupid. His lines are sung so as to stutter, as he shivers from the freezing cold of his surrounds. Unlike the pop covers on the album, the arias are actually played pretty straight, almost as if they serve as evidence of Nomi’s actual chops doing traditional opera the old-fashioned way. “The Cold Song” is certainly a great fit for Nomi’s unique stage persona, which presented him as a fey or elfin non-human visitor from some mythical Otherworld, or perhaps an extraterrestrial from outer space. This theme is addressed most directly by the one track on this album composed entirely by Nomi himself: “Keys of Life.”

Music: “Keys of Life”

“Keys of Life” is the album’s opening track, and perhaps serves as Nomi’s personal introduction to the people of our realm--a sort of musical “we come in peace” message. Its lyrics seem to portray Nomi as a benevolent visitor, but one with a dire warning for mankind: we need to get our act together soon, for our actions now are of great import, as we humans “hold the keys of life.” Perhaps Nomi’s mission is to prevent climate catastrophe on Earth, or, given the context of “Total Eclipse,” a nuclear apocalypse. With its warbling synthesiser backdrop, and Nomi singing fully in the operatic style throughout, “Keys of Life” is arguably the most experimental piece to be had on the album, and putting it as the very first track certainly pulls no punches.

It is, of course, difficult to fully address the significance of Nomi’s persona without getting into his visual identity. The cover of Nomi’s self-titled debut features his most iconic outfit: an oversized plastic tuxedo, with hugely exaggerated shoulders, and a pointed hairstyle with a bit of Streamline Moderne flair. I mentioned earlier that Nomi’s work seems concerned with gender, and in that context, I’ve often interpreted this look as a sort of caricature of masculinity, parodying men’s formalwear and calling attention to Nomi’s receding hairline. There is certainly something absurd about a high-pitched, perhaps feminine-coded voice emerging from a ludicrously masculine sort of character. The use of thin, shiny, reflective plastic, and the aforementioned Midcentury feel of the hairstyle, make me also consider interpreting it as less of a parody, and more of an alien’s bad attempt at adopting the appearance of an “ordinary,” upstanding, conservative human male in attire, using space-age materials to cobble it together.

The oversized, geometric appearance of Nomi’s garb reminds me of the great Dada poet, Hugo Ball, founder of the legendary Cabaret Voltaire. Ball was the inventor of what he called “sound poetry,” and enacted lively readings of poetry that consisted of entirely nonsensical words. He did this while wearing a strange, cylindrical-shaped cardboard suit, said to restrict his movements so much that Ball needed to be ceremoniously carried off stage when he was finished reciting. Given their shared German heritage and cabaret avant-gardism, I can’t help but wonder if Ball’s striking costume was something of an influence on Nomi here.

This album is, of course, self-titled, but that, too, is an artistic choice that can be analyzed. The artist was born Klaus Sperber, but adopted the stage name “Nomi” for his creative endeavours. In the context of the track “The Nomi Song,” the name is often used punningly in comparison with the English phrase “know me.” Nomi’s choice of stage name is almost a dare or a challenge, a request for us to attempt to know and understand this seemingly inscrutable being before us. As with many other portrayals of queerness as alien or otherworldly, the messaging here seems to be that Nomi may seem different at first, but his intent is ultimately benign, should mere mortals like ourselves be kind enough to give him a chance.

Nomi’s follow-up to this debut album was 1982’s Simple Man, an album which is much more similar to its predecessor than different. It has a wider variety of contributing musicians and different instruments employed, but it’s got a similar overall feel, and mix of tracks. You’ll find more covers, like “Falling In Love Again” and even “Ding Dong, The Witch Is Dead,” more original compositions, like the Hoffman-penned sequel to “Total Eclipse,” entitled “After the Fall,” and even some more arias, like this stunning rendition of another work of Purcell’s. Referred to here as simply “Death,” it comes from Purcell’s Dido & Aeneas, and is sung by the titular Carthaginian queen, Dido, as she prepares to commit suicide. Also called “Dido’s Lament” or “Thy hand, Belinda,” its darkly descending melody is as captivatingly ominous today as it was when it was written, over three centuries ago.

Music: “Death”

Sadly, Nomi became gravely ill at around this time, and his own untimely death was just around the corner. He died of complications of AIDS in 1983, at the age of just 44, leaving behind an unfinished opera of his own creation, Za Bakdaz, which would go unreleased until 2008. That, and a posthumous live album released in 1986, would be the only other works under Nomi’s name. As with all artists who die tragically young, we will always be left wondering what else Klaus Nomi might’ve accomplished in the ensuing decades. I find it hard to imagine a timeline in which this sound ever became particularly mainstream, but anything else Nomi came up with would have undoubtedly been fascinating.

My favourite track on Nomi’s debut is “The Twist.” Yes, this is indeed Chubby Checker’s “The Twist,” another one of those Midcentury covers that Nomi was so fond of. But compared to the rest of Nomi’s covers, this one is much more of a deconstruction, perhaps even a “piss take,” featuring a sparse instrumentation, centered around a lethargic bass guitar, and the overall pace is slowed to a crawl. Add in Nomi’s piercing vocals and some nearly demonic, chittering laughter, and you’ve got a track that turns a fun, light-hearted dance craze into a surreal nightmare. As difficult as it is to be the strangest track on an album like this, I have to give that honour to “The Twist.” That’s all for today--thanks for watching!

Music: “The Twist”

[ugh-againwiththenames]

A Musical Social Experiment...Destiel.

Alright, so I thought to myself, while playing along with @thenightwemetnatural​‘s Destiel song picks, that despite my musical tastes, and them tending typically (although not exclusively) towards the Metal genres, that EVERY song can in some way, be paralleled to Destiel. This is such a ridiculous experiment, and I apologize, but I’m at the cottage, and it’s fucking pouring with rain, so let’s play…

Here are the rules: take your Music library and throw it on Shuffle – every song that comes on for an hour(ish), connect it to Destiel...(below the cut for my results).

You can access the playlist here (if you have any interest in listening along!). I am not going to necessarily describe every possible connection - I think that a lot of them are SUPER obvious...like *eyes rolling out of my head* obvious...

In the End – Black Veil Brides – Well we’re off to a hell of a start, as this song from start to finish screams Destiel and sacrifice. In the end As my soul's laid to rest What is left of my body Or am I just a shell? And I have fought And with flesh and blood I commanded an army Through it all I have given my heart for a moment of glory Who will remember this last goodbye 'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid I'm not afraid to die A Modern Way - The Exies – only on song 2, and it’s once again, really hard to cut out any of this song, as the repeating “I’m bound by my insecurities” SCREAMS Dean at me.

I’m Bound by my insecurities

Open your eyes and Throw your arms around me I need the right not to fight To breathe

Swallow the lies I'm the one to blame Having no voice left to choose Am i so blind, feeling justified When i'm alone and confused

Brother – NEEDTOBREATHE – I have to laugh…as I added this after watching Jensen sing this at a Con (for J*red), and no lie, I’m in LOVE with it, but it’s somehow now determinably connected to the brothers for me but I can/WILL draw the lines here…EASY.

Everybody needs someone beside em’ shining like a lighthouse from the sea Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home Summoners Rift – Dangerkids – Um. Well. The first line of this song just made me laugh out loud.

There's no room for martyrs in a dying scene Well I'm not quite dead I'm something in between

And if I had another chance I would tell you

I guess I'm not afraid of what comes after We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Question everything you blindly follow Truth's a bitter pill, it's hard to swallow You think you're winning but your time is borrowed We are the only ones We stand alone in the dark

Royal Beggars - Architects - I mean…the repetition of my sentiments is going to get a bit silly…so i will not. read on...

All hope is dead, but we're coping

Somebody save our souls

Like a bird in a cage, trying to fly away Is this the price that we have to pay? Overflowing with rage, yet we still obey 'Cause we're asleep in a hurricane

We sit on a throne, waiting for God to bend the knee But we're nothing more than royal beggars

Edge of your Bed - Thousand Below - “why’d you have to go and keep calling out my name” Calling out my name” pure purgatory “where’s the ANGEL” “I prayed to you Cas, Every night” The rest of the next verse is also poignant, very Dean again “where I can only feel peace when the wave hits”, “and I’ve become what I thought was wrong, I love the feeling when it feels too strong”.  

Why'd you have to go and keep calling out my name? Calling out my name

I found sorrow at the edge of your bed

Is it now a bad habit? Where I can only feel peace when the wave hits And I've become what I thought was wrong I love the feeling when it feels too strong

Animals – Siamese - “It takes a killer that thinks he’s a saint, it takes believing to be this insane” – well. yes. ok. 

Shattered not broken We stand our feet Houses rebuild on These bloody streets I fill my lungs into this beat With closed eyes we're hoping for remedy

It takes a killer That thinks he's a saint It takes believing To be this insane

Spineless Crow - Hands Like Houses

We were young together but I've grown ancient Cracked and weathered and filled with regret Waiting to sink, rushing to sink in my sleep

The realization sinks in through the skin Like a disease, a blight inside of me Missing your touch, your weight on my fingers

My Underworld - Tonight Alive

Now we sail into deep blue storm clouds Overhead now, strangely I feel at peace as I dive into My underworld, world I dive into my underworld, world Down in these depths I'm adding up the numbers Of all I've suffered in past lives, tied down in the darkness Finally I begin to learn what I've returned tonight Time has come to begin again, leave something else behind

Ever After - Marianas Trench - All this talk of being someone’s disaster – Welp! Hello!

Don't you move Can't you stay where you are, just for now I could be your perfect disaster You could be my ever after

Apologies, I'm not myself but I can guarantee That when I get back, you won't believe That you knew me well Don't want to think about it

I'm fuckin' tired of getting sick about it Now stand back up and be a man about it And fight for something, fight for something, fight for something Nobody told ya this is gonna fold ya We go marching in like toy soldiers To have and hold ya over sold ya They’re marching like toy soldiers I'll be your disaster, ever after So fire away Goodbye

Room 138 - Asking Alexandria - While this song is clearly actually about an overdose of some kind, it’s parallels shockingly well to the post confession scene.   So these are the walls that have to hold this moment Somebody hear me, someone open up the door Get me up off of this floor and stop the shaking, the shaking Through the haze I saw a face A second chance, another life to live How did you forgive me? Held my head against your chest Told me everything's alright, don't be afraid Close your eyes and rest

Witness – Daughtry

Does it feel like you're just wasting time Here without a reason or a rhyme The answer you've been looking for Is standing right before your weary eyes And if the weight of the world is on you now But you know you can turn it all around again How Many Walls - Rise Against  - Guys, seriously, I’m not even going there...How many years have we wasted….how many walls can you put up? How many guns til you feel safe? This is a song about war – this is Rise Against, this is purely political and somehow can STILL be pulled together with Destiel.

 How many walls can you put up?

How many guns 'til you feel safe? How many times can we watch this story Over and over and over again? And how many years have we wasted Counting the lies that we've been fed? For something to change we have waited Over and over and over again Pray – Picturesque - Nope. Don’t even need a description here. Once again this is FAR TOO OBVIOUS!

I should pray a little more and think a little less The devils in my head and he won't let me rest Everyday just like the last since you up and left I should pray a little more, I shouldn't pray for death I Knew You Were Trouble – We Came as Romans (Swift Cover) - SwiftNatural is a thing for a reason… 

It's like a kaleidoscope of memories. It just all comes back. But he never does. I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright. But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel

I think that the worst part of it all wasn't losing him. It was losing me. Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago I was in your sights, you got me alone You found me

I knew you were trouble when you walked in (you were right there, you were right there) So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground Texas Is Forever - Pierce the Veil – lack of communication anyone? I don’t know, do we know anyone like that? If anything should happen to me I want you to know, I’ve loved you since ever…

Here we are If anything should happen to me I want you to know I've loved you since ever since then Don't dance around me I know what it means No communication, cannot be received But I'm such a sucker for the rain, yeah Oh, here we are Butterfly - Wearing Scars – the Butterfly/Angel parallel alone…go with it.

Seems we're alone We're fixated Just waiting for something As time goes by And when we're way up high We'll look back down with different eyes Let's take our time Awake this life So spread your wings And take my hand Tonight will be the end

With Grace - The Weight of Atlas

This place looks like hell to me I cast myself into the sea Picked up my conscience and left my disease I don't know, I don't know if I can make it through this storm Keep your eyes shut it will be okay. Will we make it out alive? Will we make it out alive. When all you have is hope I will be your anchor I know that I can let you down But I swear I'll pick up the pieces. And be reborn again I Always Wanted to Leave - The Plot In You

I guess it's a shame I'm so damn destructive And you're so reluctant to mean what you say The way you act so abused The things you confuse You know I always wanted to leave "Hello... You can sing, I'm here And I love you more than anyone or anything With all my heart."

Unsteady - X Ambassadors – just a stay parallel. Don’t leave, don’t let go. If you love me. Don’t let go. #I haz the sads.

Hold on to me 'Cause I'm a little unsteady If you love me Don't let go Bury Me Alive - Normandie – pick a line – ANY LINE!!! 

I guess I'm not going to heaven now I got caught in the chase Now I'm falling from grace But I never stood a chance Could've given me a sign I'd be giving you blind obedience Mantra – Bring Me The Horizon Before the truth will set you free, it will piss you off Before you find a place to be, you're gonna lose the plot Too late to tell you now, one ear and right out the other one 'Cause all you ever do is chant the same old mantra Could I have your attention, please? It's time to tap into your tragedy Think you could use a new abuser Close your eyes and listen carefully Imagine you're stood on a beach Water gently lapping at your feet And now you're sinking, what were you thinking? That's all the time we have this week

Oh Lord - In This Moment – cutting any of this out was actually hard. Cas, my love, are you there?

Oh Lord won't you save me Save me from my soul Oh Lord won't you forgive me For I have lost control Oh Lord won't you tell me Am I the righteous or the damned? Oh Lord won't you please hear me Do I obey or do I command? Oh Lord please forgive me For what I'm about to do Oh Lord won't you believe me I'll burn in hell for you Oh Lord won't you teach me Teach me how to see Oh Lord tell me you love me Am I Lillith or am I Eve?

Bleeding is a Luxury - Atreyu

I’ve talked the talk, I've walked the walk, It's taken ten fucking years, For them to see I don't need their approval. I've paid the piper, I've stayed my course, Lived chomping at the bit. With only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to- Take it for granted, Forsake the costs, Wear a big, shit-eating grin (with only blood, sweat, and tears to adhere to) Now bear the burden to chase your fate Grind your teeth 'til it fucking hurts So they can see I don't need their approval. Seize the day, Take your beatings, Lead the way, Or decay as you fall down... You fall down.

Would you Still be There - Of Mice & Men – wow, this song in full. All of it. I can’t.

If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? I can't stop thinking about the way I left you sinking with no escape. Now there's no lifeline, no way to save. But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. Dislocated, I lie awake Suffocating in my mistakes. I lost my halo when I fell from grace, But maybe next time I won't throw it all away. I ask myself everyday... If I could find the words, if I could shake the world, If I could turn back time would you still be there? If I could find the words to say, If I could shake the world to break you down, Then would you still be there?

The Broken - 3 Doors Down 

This is the call to the broken, the broken Take it from me. They don't care if you're lonely. As you can see, They don't care if you're scared. Your heart Is the only friend you have in this whole world. Don't start, Think you can do this yourself. I know what you're thinking. You say you're tired of keeping score, keeping score. Trust me, You're not the only one going through this. You see, I've been through this before, this before.

Wow, I Hate This Song - The Used – this one took a little imagination – hardest one so far – because it really is just about hating a song! So we’re HC’ing the Zepp track that reminds Dean most of Cas, post Empty.

Every time I hear the key I see you in the melody It never was a part of me Heart feels like it's being stabbed Kills me emotionally Dirty Little Secret - Bullet For My Valentine – let’s take this back to – take your pick…Leviathan!Cas, Godstiel, Casifer, any of the times that Cas did the wrong thing for the right reasons…and did not tell his boy. 

There once was a time Where everything was just so perfect Now everything has changed And you've become a total stranger I've seen another side to you I never even knew existed Dirty little secrets, dirty little secrets Giving in to your primal instincts There once was a time When anything I do is for you But everything has changed And I've become a lonely prisoner I'd kill, even die for you You never even tried resisting

Kill Plan - Parabelle

I'm sitting stunned just like a lesson I never learned Made of emotions and mistakes And what you say Leaves me lost and in the way And that's the place you stay Remember silence Now we're painted into corners So we can watch the world get sold out Hold me closer don't let the sun in Hold me closer don't let the sun in Cuz the setting sun feels like a cage Don't let me defend the kill plan

Roman Sky – Avenged Sevenfold – This song only has a few lyrics, but we can definitely make them work.

As the embers rose through the Roman Sky Tell me, were you calm when they took your life? Just before you go, tell us how the heavens flow Weightless evermore, as you walk beyond that door Shine forever true To Those Left Behind – blessthefall – these boys might be my favourite band ever, but these are ANGRY lyrics – these are about betrayal.  This is a relationship gone wrong. I feel these best work with the divorce arc, the Angry Dean that we see, or Dean’s mood after any of the “Cas fucked up again” moments. You found me at my worst When I was far too weak to grow In spite of all my fears And how I may have lost my way Only now I know the truth

Awake and coming clean

If you can't sleep It's your conscience That's eating away At the mess you made So let's end this Sew this last stitch Lift this weight off my chest I'll put you to rest The past should stay dead

How did we find ourselves here? Haunted by our own design With everything that's come to pass Makes it harder to confine

[spencersglasses]

Paradise

A/N: *GIF IS NOT MINE* sup y’all! i know it’s been a phat sec since i’ve posted a fic but i was playing Paradise by Coldplay on my guitar and this idea popped into my head :) i know it’s not amazing but hope y'all enjoy!!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Couple: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: ANGST with small bits of fluff

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! mentions of blood/case details (involving children), death (of a CHILD), self depreciation, lots of crying

Word Count: 1,690

Summary: Reader blames herself for the death of a victim so she sings her heart out the second she gets home. 

———————————

3 minutes and 15 seconds. That’s how late I was. 3 minutes and 15 seconds. Because of my ignorance, a 10 year old beautiful little innocent girl is dead. 

Her name was Addylin Louise Davis, a bright 10 year old girl from Charlotte, North Carolina. She was a friend of a previous victim within this case, Tiana Lee. Best friends, inseparable, is how both sets of parents described them. I was the agent assigned to sit and hang out with Addilyn while her parents were questioned in regards to Tiana’s murder. Her parents had already told Addilyn that Tiana was, “in a better place.” Although she didn’t quite understand what they meant, she was still upset to know that she won’t be able to see her best friend again. When I was with her, I decided to ask her about her toys and what she wanted to be when she grew up. Watching her eyes sparkle and fill with passion when she spoke about wanting to become a chef. The entire time she was at the station, she never fled from my side, sticking to me as if her life depended on it. 

Now, as I stand over her lifeless body as the rest of the team cuffs and drags the unsub out of the building, I can’t help but want to scream. The tears streaming down my face were enough to blur the image of her before me. I kneeled down and held her hand, which could only fit around my ring finger less than 24 hours ago, now feeling as cold as ice. I lay a small kiss on her, praying that she’s no longer in pain. Praying that she and Tiana are having the time of their lives in heaven. 

As I was about to let go, I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump slightly.

“Sorry,” Spencer apologized, removing his hand quickly. “The parents are here, the coroner needs to take her now.”

I gave a slight nod, looking back at Addilyn. I lay her hand back down gently upon her chest, slowly standing back up. 

As we walked out of the unsub’s house, I immediately saw the parents. Their faces were covered in worry and pain; they haven’t been told the news. I walked over to Hotch, asking if I could be the one to deliver the news. He gave me a sad look, slightly nodding. I nodded back before making my way over to the parents. They immediately looked up at me, seeing the pain in my face and the blood on my hand that held their daughters.

“I’m so sorry.” is all I could say. I watched as both the parents broke down before me, the overbearing pain overtaking them. I turned away and walked back towards my team, shielding my face because of the tears streaming down my face. When I looked up, all I could see were looks of sympathy from everyone. Before anyone could ask if I was okay, I confirmed, 

“I’m fine, let's just wrap things up and get home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight back home was silent. The same happened almost every time we had a case that went badly, especially ones involving children. Most of the team were asleep towards the back of the plane while I chose to sit by the window towards the front. No matter how hard I attempted to fall asleep, all I could see was Addilyn. Every time I blinked or closed my eyes for a millisecond, she was there. 

Spencer was the only member of the team who was on my side of the plane. Knowing how I get during cases like this, he understood that I needed my space and would come to him if I needed anything. 

Once the plane landed, Hotch decided to let the team off the hook for the night because of how intense the case had been. Spencer and I immediately said our goodbyes and made our way to our car as quick as possible. The drive home was comfortably silent, Spencer being the one to drive because he knew I wasn’t in the best state of mind for driving right now. His hand was on my thigh the entire way home. Although I wasn’t one for physical touch in times like these, I didn’t mind it too much.

As the door swung open, I immediately bee lined towards the shower. Although I had cleaned up at the station, I still felt like I was covered in blood and dirt. Letting the warm water wash over my body, I closed my eyes for longer than I intended, seeing images of Addilyn pop back into my brain. I felt the hot tears streaming down my face as I opened my eyes, attempting to erase the guilt that overtook my body whenever I thought of her. I stepped out of the shower after shampooing, conditioning and scrubbing my body. I wrapped myself in a towel, making my way out of the bathroom into Spencer and I’s shared bedroom. We had decided to move into Spencer’s apartment, as it was bigger than mine and could accommodate both of our things. The smell of cinnamon and books lifted some of the weight off my shoulders and I began to get redressed in one of Spencer's old shirts and my own old basketball shorts. 

Although my body was begging me to just jump in bed and sleep, my mind was too caught up with the case to allow me the pleasure. So, I resorted to one of my most therapeutic activities. I grabbed my guitar from the corner of the bedroom and sat on our bed. I tuned it by ear before relishing in it’s beautiful sounds. I grabbed my capo that was attached to the top of the guitar and clipped it on the 3 thret, strumming downwards to make sure I was playing in the correct key. The only song I could think of when Addilyn came into my mind was Paradise by Coldplay. 

As I began strumming to the beat, I could feel my worries fade slightly before I reached the verse. But as I began to sing, everything came back to run me over like a truck.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep and dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Every time she closed her eyes.” I sang, feeling myself choke up, the tears streaming down my face once again. 

Little to my knowledge, Spencer had heard you starting to sing, feeling his heart wrench at how your voice broke. He knew how therapeutic playing guitar was for you and he loved hearing you sing when you played. He was sitting on the couch, reading War and Peace for what felt like the 100th time. As he set down his book, taking a mental note about where he was, he walked over to the closed bedroom door, lightly knocking 3 times. He heard a small, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. When he turned the knob, his heart broke at the site. As he tried not to show his emotions, he asked, “Can I listen?”

I gave him a quick nod as he sat down on the bean bag chair in the corner of the room. I continued to play through the chorus before reaching the second verse.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, and the bullet catch in her teeth. Life goes on, it gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly, every tear a waterfall. In the night, the stormy night, she closed her eyes. In the night, the stormy night away she’d fly. And dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh. She dream of  Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise.” 

As I finished the second verse, I looked up at Spencer. I could see the tears flowing out of his eyes as well. He looked hypnotized by my strumming and singing, as if he couldn’t hear my voice constantly breaking or going off pitch at the notes that were slightly out of my range. I knew that if I didn’t finish the song now, I wouldn’t be able to for the rest of the night, so I played through the chorus as I reached the bridge.

“La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. So lying underneath the stormy sky. She said oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. I know the sun was set to rise. This could be Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh.”

Instead of playing through the other 5 repeats, I brought the song to its end by playing down strums, humming the ending. As I finished, I heard a faint clapping coming from Spencer. I looked up to see that he was crying just as much as I was. I put the guitar back where it was then sitting back down on the bed, patting a spot next to myself. Spencer came and sat next to me, opening his arms for me to cling onto him if I needed to. I accepted the offer and we just sat there, hugging, crying to ourselves. 

“You have a great voice by the way.” Spencer finally broke the comfortable silence through his sniffles. I chuckled, thanking him. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” Spencer asked seriously, moving his body back in the slightest so he could look me in the eye. I nodded, finally feeling drowsy after singing my heart out. I looked back up at him, admiring his now blushed face, still a little wet from the previous tears. I give him a little kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m here for you too. Let’s head to bed before one of the neighbors files a noise complaint.” Earning a slight chuckle from Spencer. 

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Household Planning (1/2)

Summary:  

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: Set in the same verse as  “Rough day”  and “Sugar Rush”

"You're taking a week off?"

Hange wished no one would be there when she dropped by the queen’s office to give the letter. It was painful as it is to fathom what the next week would be like. Making her way to her familiar office in civilian clothing and seeing Historia there in the room only added salt to the wound.

“I’ve asked Armin to take over first. It will only be for a week at the most,” Hange explained.

"No. Take as many days as you need. I don't think you've even taken the day off since the war ended." Historia gave Hange a reassuring smile as she placed the letter back in the envelope.

Hange was sure the queen would give the week off with no arguments. Queen Historia had always had been understanding about any excuses related to family. Somehow, the response had come as a big surprise to Hange. As she walked out of the office and into the courtyard, she felt the late afternoon breeze seep through the cotton of her civilian shirt. It felt oddly nostalgic and Hange was reminded that she had not taken a day off in years.  

“It’s not like I’m gonna be resting anyway.” Hange muttered to herself as she made her way through the courtyard and into the main road to call for a taxi.

"Where to, Ma'am?”

“Paradis Central Hospital.

20 hours earlier

Levi was usually the one who opened the door for her when she got home. That night, she was surprised to find their seven year old Luke by the door waiting for her.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Where’s daddy?” Hange asked as she helped her son stand up. The young boy’s eyes were drooping and Hange was sure he would fall asleep as soon as she put him to bed.

“Daddy’s asleep.”

“Really?” Hange glanced at the clock on the mantle as she carried Luke to his room.

It was only a quarter to nine and she had known Levi long enough to know he would never be asleep at that time. In fact, most nights he was the one who would welcome her home. He would be cleaning, organizing or mixing tea in the kitchen while she showered and got ready for bed. She always fell asleep to the clatters of plates and mugs, the clanks of pots and pans and the opening and closing of cupboards. Funnily, she always woke up to them too, a testament to the odd sleeping patterns of her partner.

Luke had fallen asleep in her arms. Hange lay him gently on his bed and put the blanket over him. As she turned off the lights and closed the door behind her, Hange was made aware of the fact that the house was unnaturally silent without the sounds of Levi tinkering with something in the kitchen. She hurried to the bedroom she shared with Levi to find him on the bed, his back to the door.

“Tiring day?”

Levi was a light sleeper. Some nights when Hange did wake up next to him, she could usually elicit a reply or reaction from him with almost any sound no matter how soft. At that moment though, Levi was not responding.

She approached the bed, letting her footsteps resound loudly on the wooden floor under her. He still did not react. Levi was covered up to his chin with blankets. Not wanting to disturb the set up, Hange rested her hand on his cheek, only to recoil at the heat being released.

How was he this morning?  Hange felt a twinge of guilt when she realized she did not remember much of it. She had still woken up to the same banging of pots and pans and a full breakfast. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hange asked, as she shook him lightly.

"Just… need to rest." Levi did not open his eyes. In fact, his face tensed as he said those words and Hange guessed that that slight effort was already causing him pain.

How much pain was he in?  They were both soldiers in another life and they both had higher pain tolerance than most people. It had set off some alarms inside her and Hange was considering calling a doctor then and there just to be on the safe side.

Am I overreacting? The last time Levi had needed medical attention, they managed in the middle of the forest with a little first aid.

Hange changed into her pajamas and settled on the bed next to him.

She scooched closer to him. The heat emitted from his body alarmed her but Hange reassured herself by focusing on the rhythm of his rough breathing. He was still very much alive.

“Just make sure to tell me if the pain gets worse. ” Hange whispered.

Levi let out what sounded like a whimper. A wave of concern washed over Hange. She put her arms around her partner, hoping that even just a little she could absorb the heat that was resonating from his skin.

She let the rhythm of his breathing lull her to sleep.

                                       Household Planning

When Hange woke up again, the sky was still dark. The sound of birds chirping just outside the window was enough though for Hange to conclude that it was at least late enough that the sun would rise soon.

“Good morning,” Hange whispered. His body was not as hot as it was the night before and Hange found herself squeezing her partner lightly in relief. “You scared me last night.”

“Hange…”  

Hange unwrapped her arms from around her partner and sat up. “You okay?”

Levi curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his stomach. “My stomach...hurts…”

Hange had seen Levi in worse situations in the battlefield but never in her life had she seen him so vulnerable. She had brushed off her worry the night before but as she took in her partner, lying curled up like a ball, the ragged breathing and the uncharacteristic whimpers, Hange conceded that she could not take the risk of omission. “Levi. I’m sorry I’m calling a doctor.”

Hange wished Levi had protested the whole set off. At the least, she wished he were conscious or aware enough to even notice a sleepy and confused Luke next by his bedside. He was lying prone on the bed as the doctor put his shirt up and ran his hands through the stomach area.

Hange’s blood ran cold as she watched Levi squirm in pain at lightest touch. She had worked with injured soldiers long enough to know it was a common symptom of internal injuries. The question that lingered was how exactly had it gotten to that point.

“This doesn’t look good Mrs. Zoe. We're going to have to get him to a hospital quick. He might need emergency surgery.”

“Do what you need to do.”

Hange walked out of the room and sat her son down on the living room sofa. She could hear the doctor making his way to the phone, quickly dialing a number and a few seconds later, he was rattling off vitals.

Hange had a fair amount of experience with first aid but the science and technology brought back from Marley was a tall order for her to master and Hange had to admit she probably would have only understood 70% of what the doctor had told the paramedics.

She spent the next few minutes explaining the situation to her son Luke over a quick breakfast and while walking him to school. Luke had ended up late as he had asked too many questions.

Why didn't daddy make breakfast?

Where are they taking daddy?

Are you okay mommy?

By the time Hange made it to the hospital, Levi was being prepped for surgery. He was completely unconscious as they unbuttoned his pajamas and switched it with a hospital gown.

Hange stayed nearby just in case he did wake up through it. She occupied herself by marveling at the improvements made in the hospital and the new developments by Marley. It was her first time back there for at least three years having shifted her focus into railways and street car installations.  A nurse put a needle through his wrist which was attached to a bag on a rack. Hange had forgotten the name of that invention but deduced that it was to get medicine into his system.                          

"How long will he be in surgery?" Hange asked.

The nurse shook her head. "We don't know the extent of the damage yet but internal bleeding of this severity should take at least two to three hours."

Internal bleeding. That usually meant certain death in the field. Hange could not help but think, if Levi had experienced that sickness only just a decade ago, he would have been dead.

"Thank you for all your hard work," Hange said.

She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to wait out until news on her partner came out. She made a brief detour to the outdoor payphone to call sick for the day. Armin would be able to take over anyway, he was very familiar at least with the plans Hange had for the transportation route through the city.

Hange could not shake the feeling that she would be missing out though. Her best ideas always came when she was in the office looking through blueprints and construction updates.

She willed herself to dial the familiar number of her office and explain her current situation.

Armin who had answered the phone was understanding and had given genuine well wishes to Levi. When Hange went back to the waiting room though, she started to reflect on the fact, that maybe the one who did not want the day off was just her.

As she sat back on the chair of the waiting room and looked up at the blank ceiling of the hospital, Hange knew she was miserable.

She was left to do what she had not done in years, sit idly by and wait.

                                        Household Planning

"A burst appendix with abscesses around his stomach area. It was pretty bad, a very high risk of infection. We will need to monitor him for at least a week and he'll be on a strict antibiotic plan for a while."

An appendix. She knew that organ. It was the useless organ yet it caused so much damage in Levi's system. "How long will he be…"

"We set up a room for him. He'll be staying for at least a week since we will need to monitor signs of post surgical infection and possible surgery again. He's not out of the woods yet."

Hange followed the doctor into one of the rooms on the third floor, noting that there were a lot more nurses making their rounds on that floor.

A nurse was there putting the covers over her partner when Hange arrived in. Her stomach dropped as she saw the tubes that all connected to some part underneath the blankets. Even for dying soldiers, she had never seen that type of medical treatment before and maybe if it hadn't been on Levi, she would have been excited at the prospect of seeing first hand the medical technology involved in keeping a patient alive.

At that moment though, her thoughts were all on Levi, how much he remembered, how much pain he was in and most importantly, if he were going to live through it.

Hange walked to his bedside and put her hand underneath the blanket, feeling for his hand. His hand was limp but it was neither too warm or too cold. She grasped his hand tighter, focusing on its warmth as a reprieve from the events of the past few hours.

"Hey four eyes, where's Luke?"

"He's in school…" Hange rubbed her eyes, still adjusting to the waking world.

"His classes are until eleven. It's one."

Hange sat up and look at the clock at the end of the room. "Wait what?" How long have I been sitting here?

Levi was half sitting up on the bed, conscious but groggy, looking particularly surprised. "Did you forget our kid?"

The realization of what had just happened dawned on Hange a split second too late. By then, Levi’s eyes narrowed into an accusing glare, a quick change from that of disbelief only a second ago.

Hange felt blood rush into her face "I’m sorry. A lot has been happening. You're stuck in the hospital… I don't know what to do…"

"Son first. Questions later."

                              Household Planning

The next question, Hange found herself tackling was where to take Luke. It was an obvious logistical choice yet it took Hange enough brain space that she ended up cringing at the state of her mind at that moment.

She had considered leaving him at home but could not come up with someone who could stay with Luke at a last minute request. She knew she would probably be with Levi for a while in the hospital, possibly until late night. It was a risk, leaving a child with a sick parent in a hospital ward but it at least trumped the idea of leaving him alone at home.

Somehow, leaving Luke with a sick, possibly immobile Levi, still seemed to be enough to give her some peace of mind.

"You promise to stay good, okay. Daddy needs rest," Hange said as they stood in front of the door to his room.

"Promise."

The promise was short lived. As soon as the door opened before him, Luke ran towards Levi's bedside and Hange had to grab him as he motioned to jump on the bed next to him.

"Daddy!"

"How was school?"

"I was the only one there. I thought nobody was going to pick me up."

Levi sneaked a glare at Hange with their son's last statement.

"Sorry Luke. Mommy got carried away. Daddy's going to be sick for a while and there was a lot to think about." Hange hugged her son from behind.

"How long will daddy be here?"

"A week at least," Levi answered.

So the doctor at least explained the situation to him.

Levi still looked like he was in pain and Hange wondered how much of his motions were a front he was putting up in front of their son.

"Mommy and Daddy need to talk. Could you give us some space?"

There were nurses all over the floor and Hange was sure at least one of them would have the time to take care of a kid. It was a quick search and within a few minutes of going out into the hallway, she at least had the peace of mind that someone was taking care of her son. The fact the nurse was helping with homework was an added bonus.

"I feel like shit," Levi admitted as Hange entered the room once again.

"You're doing great. I thought you'd be asleep the whole day to be honest."

"I don't think I'd even be able to relax anymore. Imagine waking up to realize my wife forgot about our kid."

Hange gave her husband an apologetic smile. "Just give me a list of everything I need to get done, everyday. While you're here. I'll get it done."

"Don't you have work?"

                                    Household Planning  

By evening, Hange had filed her leave for the week, she had her to do list on hand and Luke was at least distracted with toys she had just bought him from the gift shop next to the hospital.

Her first challenge was dinner. She had the cooking skills but the way everything in the household was sorted out made Hange hesitate to touch anything.

It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and stalked by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook.

In the cupboard, they were so tightly stacked on top of one another that Hange feared that she would break something just by pulling something out.

Hange sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she was still left shocked by the events of that morning. Less than 24 hours ago, she would not have imagined having to learn to navigate the household all by herself.

I'm gonna need a while to adjust.

"Luke, we're going out to buy dinner."

                                Household Planning  

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Omelette!"

30 minutes to eight. Luke should be in school by eight.

"It's pretty late for an omelette… What about bread?" In fact, Hange did know Luke liked omelettes. She did not want to admit it to her son yet but although she had spent a fair half an hour looking through the kitchen, she could not find the eggs.

The only food stored places within reason were the bread and the fruits which were displayed in a basket and a bowl on the kitchen table. The bread was covered in cloth, neatly folded when she found it though. As she put back the bread after eating it that morning, she could not recreate that same intricate folding pattern Levi had done.

"There were eggs in the fridge."

Where? Who puts eggs in the fridge?

Hange chose to pretend to ignore it. "Let's just get you to school. What time do I need to pick you up?"

"Two." Luke was avoiding her gaze and Hange could tell he was trying to hide disappointment.

"I'll take note of that." Hange took a pen from her kitchen table and wrote the time on her wrist. "Just eat this for breakfast." She wrapped a piece of bread on paper and dropped it in his bag.

It's my first time having to be the one to cook breakfast, of course there will be a few bumps.

"I didn't know where you put the eggs so I just gave him bread for breakfast."

"Where did you think the eggs were?" Levi asked, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his gaze. Hange inferred that it could have also been from the meager breakfast he was given that morning of pudding and fruit which Levi was mixing as he listened to the developments that morning.

“I looked everywhere, the cupboards, the storage, I even checked our bedroom.”

“It’s in the refrigerator.”

“And that’s what Luke said. I checked it after dropping him at school but it wasn’t there.”

“I put it towards the back so it wouldn’t break if it ends up accidentally falling out.”

The new refrigerators that came from Marley were a welcome improvement to the icebox that most people in Paradis were used to. Having busied herself with other things, Hange never really bothered to learn its different compartments. It looked like Levi did not want her to learn it either. The latter had preoccupied himself buying them at the best bargain when they were finally available and had spent a fair amount of days since they got it, organizing and reorganizing all their spoilable goods.

“Why do you put your eggs in the refrigerator? Even if you leave it out, it won’t go bad.”

“It’s an animal product, you don’t know what it touched.”

Levi had researched his household plan well and Hange only appreciated it more when Levi took a pen and paper and drew the fridge compartments, perfectly from what she had remembered. He explained the contents compartment by compartment, with the rationale for each.

“Why don’t we keep the eggs in the compartments by the fridge door? You cook them everyday.”

“The sudden temperature changes can make the eggs go bad faster.”

“Why put vegetables in the lowest compartment?”

“Vegetables in the drawer below because this compartment has higher humidity levels for fresh produce.”

Levi made sense. Hange had done her fair share of experiments to quickly understand Levi’s logic behind everything. She was still taken aback by how far he had thought ahead and how meticulous the whole process of organizing the refrigerator was for him. It almost made her hesitant to take anything out of the fridge for fear of destroying any part of the intricate plan Levi had set up for all their spoilable goods.

Levi dropped the pen and sighed. “So I’m assuming you didn’t get any cooking done if you still don’t know where everything is. What did you pack Luke for lunch then?”

                                    Household Planning  

Levi probably would not have approved of Luke enjoying a late lunch of two soft serve ice creams and a slice of bread. That was the only way Hange saw herself pacifying the young boy who looked to be on the verge of crying and shouting at his mother when she picked him up from school. At the same time, the reminder from Levi was enough for Hange to at least have enough motivation to remember to show up on time to pick him up.

“Don’t tell your father about this.” She muttered, as she led him through the market. Levi had left her a grocery list before she left to pick up Luke from school. At that point, she was determined at least to not fuck up the grocery shopping.

Another tray of eggs, bread, spinach, oranges, apples. The list was straightforward. When Levi and Hange had planned the list, they considered the easiest things for Hange to prepare, cook, eat and store for the next week while Levi’s fate was still undecided. She only had to buy enough for the two of them at least.

The markets were designed that all types of produce and goods could be caught with one loop around the market. In thirty minutes, Hange had gone through everything on the list.

As Hange made her way to the exit of the market, she felt a tug on her hand. “What are you looking at?” Hange followed her son’s gaze to see the tea and coffee shop on the side.  

“Daddy might want tea.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He only has three more bags left at home.”

                                    Household Planning            

Hange had dreaded the process of storing the food she had bought. She imagined having to empty the fridge and make wild guesses on where Levi would have wanted each product and whether or not she angled them in a way where it would be most convenient for those who opened it or less likely to spill.

Levi had explained a lot of it to her but many parts of it were going quickly into one ear and out the other due to the detail he put into such mundane concepts. She found that the crazy amount of detail and the fact that she possibly left things out, had left her blank at what exactly to do when she opened the refrigerator door.

“Daddy likes the stem facing outwards.” Luke pointed out as he grabbed the spinach from the bag and put it inside the half open vegetable drawer.

“The eggs?”

“You have to push the cheese out of the way when you put the eggs in. Tray opening facing outside...”

Hange at least knew where the fruits and the bread went. She lined up the fruit bowl and the bread basket on the kitchen table and added the fruits she had bought from the market on to the pile.

Luke reached out for the oranges on the top and distributed them evenly towards the edges of the bowl. “Daddy said it might fall if you let them sit unevenly on a pile.”

Hange unfolded the cloth on the bread basket and put the bread inside. She attempted once again to fold it similarly to what Levi had been doing before. Luke scooched closer to her and Hange could only gape as Luke deftly folded it into the same tight pattern she had seen it in that morning.

“Daddy taught you all of this?”

[fairymadnessyeah]

Secrets in the Dark

Shigadabi week day 1

Ao3 Link

Summary: After a job well done, the party starts their journey home. But the path is tricky and the past sneaky when memories start to show their ugly face.

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

Memories / Fantasy / Bittersweet 

"We'll rest here for the night," Tomura said as he watched the rest of his party drag their feet through the forest floor.

As Bounty-Hunters, their jobs were usually easy. They did what people didn't want to do. Nobody would search for a murderer or criminal and risk their life when you could hire them and let them do it for you. Nobody would go into a dungeon when they would go for the right amount of money. It didn't always go the way the client wanted, but that was their fault for trusting Bounty-Hunters.

This job was one of those examples. They had been hired to retrieve a dagger from a nearby hunted cave. The legend said it could reveal every secret someone had and, judging by the unhappy married life the lord who hired them had, he probably wanted to check if his wife had a lover. Too bad they wanted the dagger more. The quest took them two days, one to retrieve the weapon and another one to forge it.

It wouldn't be the first time they did something like this. Twice, an excellent alchemist and blacksmith, was the best at making doubles of things. The copies didn't last though, so once they were paid and started on their journey back home, the lord figured out their scheme. He sent a squadron after them, who chased them non-stop. When night fell, they had finally lost them but were too tired to continue.

"Wonderful idea, Tomura," Compress exclaims as he takes out a marble of his pocket and throws it to the ground. The marble explodes and reveals a giant tent, which they all enter.

"Ugh, I'm beat," Spinner moans and starts cracking his bones behind his scaley skin. "How far are we from Furesurbs?" he asks and collapses into the pile of cushions he slept on.

Furesurbs was the cannibal city of the continent. Only the bravest and most skilful of heroes had been able to go through it without ending dead. Or that was what the common people knew. Foresurbs was actually a lawless city. Thieves, killers, Bounty-Hunters, they all lived in peace with plenty full jobs to earn money. The hero who ever stepped foot inside was dead the moment he breathed.

"I'll track a course for tomorrow, for now just rest," he tells the others and takes out his map of the region. As a warlord, he was well-versed on many subjects. He was almost positive he was the only one who had had an education in some way. But then again, they didn't know much about Dabi or Compress.

Their group of Bounty-Hunters, The Vanguard Action, was not the usual group. If anything, their partnership shouldn't work. Why would it? A Warlord apprentice, an Alchemist with a personality disorder, a druid with a craving for blood, a known thief and con-man, a survivor from the Draco kingdom and ex-slave, a witch trapped in a man's body and a cursed runaway arsonist. Their teamwork should have been a disaster, a failure.

Yet, somehow, after half a year of travelling together, they had become such a tight group that Tomura was sure his Sensei would be disappointed of his attachment. But in an unlikely moment, the young warlock didn't care. His Sensei's approval and pride should be his drive, his greatest achievement. But his party -his friends- they meant the world to him, and he would make sure that when his time to rise came, they would get everything they wanted.

And bizarrely, he knew the feeling was mutual. From the hundreds of times they had had his back, to the quiet nights they spent comforting each other; Tomura knew his party would be there for him when it mattered. Magne, Toga and Twice repeatedly told him so, Compress, Spinner and Dabi showed it with their actions. They all said he had brought them together, that he had saved them in some way or another. That they were a family and they wouldn't let anybody come between them and their happiness.

Thought this journey would put that trust to the test.

"Stop playing with that, Crazy, it's not a toy!" Tomura was distracted from his routing by the disturbance. Toga and Twice were testing out the new dagger, passing it between them and asking questions, to which the dagger would burn if the one holding it lied. Magne was cooking while Compress and Spinner were sleeping, but were distracted by the mess.

Dabi, the one who scolded the two fools playing with the ancient and powerful tool, was up from his own nap and trying to get the dagger from the girl. "No! Wait for your turn! I'm using it now!" Toga threw her tantrum and tried to keep the artefact away from the older man.

"Yeah, don't be a party pooper, Dabi!  You trying to hide something, cursed boy!? " Twice said as he helped Toga.

The three entered a tug war, with Dabi trying to get the dagger and Toga and Twice trying to keep it to continue their game. The rest of the party soon lost interest in the usual shenanigans. It was a daily occurrence that the three would argue like siblings, and they went back to what they were doing previously. That changed when Dabi screamed. The dagger clattered against the floor as the arsonist held his bleeding arm close and cursed out loud in pain. They tried to get close to him and aid him with his injury, but he stepped away and told them he was alright before stomping out of the tent. He was probably going to his horse, Licen.

"Good job, you morons," Spinner tells them once Dabi is not in the tent. "Now he is going to be even more cranky," the lizard-looking man complains.

"Don't worry, once Dabi gets some sleep and food, he'll be as happy as he can be," Magne tells Spinner and stirs the stew she is preparing. "But you two better apologize and stop playing with that thing. Dabi is right, it's not a toy," she turns to the two blondes and scolds them.

"Yes, Big Sis Mag... Why don't you make me, Old Hag!?" Twice says.

Toga, however, doesn't. She is staring at the dagger with rapt attention and holding the blade in her hand. "Hey Tomu, what does Blue blood mean?" the youngest member of their group asks him out of nowhere.

"Usually it means the person is part of a noble family," he answers her. Toga always asked him stuff out of nowhere. She had lived away from cities and society for most of her life, and she didn't understand most of the new world that surrounded her. "Why are you asking?"

"That's the blood that came out of Dabi," she tells him and shows him the blade of the dagger. It wasn't a lot, but the small amount of liquid the blade had was blue-purplish colour. 

"That's impossible," Spinner comments about the implication of the blood. "Dabi hates royals and nobles more than any of us," he argues. And he was right. Even if rich families were the largest source of income for the lawless, there was no Hunter or Thief alive who didn't hate the higher society. Dabi did so with a passion and never stayed quiet about it. He could look past a lord or count that were in the rich inner circle of the kingdomes, but royals were a pest in his eyes. Tomura had noticed the small chain he had with stolen Royal rings the hunter had collected over the years. To think that somebody like that came from a noble family was ridiculous. Unthinkable even. 

"Can't it be that since he is cursed, his blood is blue now?" Compress cuts in.

"No, cursed blood is purple," he tells them. "Maybe he is a bastard from a noble family, or the descendant from a dead royal house. But it is none of our business, now is it?" he asks the rest of the tent, with a clear hint of dropping the matter.

It works though, and they all go back to their tasks. Magne gets help with dinner by Twice, and Toga cleans the dagger and places it in a scabbard that doesn't fit it. When they get to Furesurbs, they can have one made. The tent is plagued with silence until Magne announces it's dinner time. Dabi still hasn't come back by that time. Tomura is not worried. If Dabi wants to be a gloom and be alone, that's his problem. He doesn't need the fire user. Even if he is a great source of heat in cold nights.

When they finish dinner and Dabi still hasn't appeared, Tomura has had enough. While the others build a fire to keep warm, he takes his hooded cape and goes looking for him. Their camp is hidden between the plants of the forest they were in. Licen was still here, but the mare also had the heart of an apple at its feet. Dabi spoiled his horse like no other, always giving her an apple even if it meant hunger for him. Licen in exchange was the most loyal horse there could be, even if she was a stubborn mare that only let a few ride on her. So if she was still here, Dabi couldn't have gone far.

Tomura found him a few feet away from the camp, near a stream. Dabi was a sight to behold. He had patches of healthy skin but most of his body was covered in deep purple scales. His curse was slowly turning him into a monster. When he lost control, the scales would start to take over his body, covering more skin, and he would become more animalistic. It scared the crap out of them the first time it happened.

They had come to a crossroad with another group. The party of teenagers because, yes, they were a bunch of teenagers along with an alchemist knight and they had unfortunately been after the same target. They were both looking for the golden scabbard of All Might's famous sword. They wanted it for the money, but the kids needed it to unlock something, they were in a quest with pointless ideals of heroism. They had ended up clashing, and Dabi lost control, though he wasn't the only one. He was in battle against The half cursed prince, Todoroki Shouto, and as the fight grew heated, both men turned into monsters. Both groups had to separate them by force before they killed one another. Dabi didn't speak for two days after that, and they didn't get the scabbard.

However, curse and all, Tomura couldn't help but find the hunter mesmerizing. It was like he was made to distract him. His strong jaw, his deep hoarse voice, his dry humour and his eyes. Oh Divus, his eyes. Tomura could drown in them. Deep, bright blue orbs that he could stare at and get lost in at any time. Even now, in a dark moonless night, he could still see them. It infuriated him.

"Did you come here to stare, creep?" Dabi asks him, turning to see him.

"You missed dinner," he tells him and sees the other roll his eyes at him. "Let me look at your wound," he orders him.

"It's fine, I cauterized with my magic," he says but still holds his hand to him.

The wound is not deep, but it's large, it starts at the bottom of his finger and ends in the middle of his forearm, cutting through the purple scales. With a simple chant, his hand lights up in a red hue, and he starts healing the hunter. He can feel Dabi's eyes on him. Those blue gems piercing his being and somehow looking into his soul. He didn't know how, but Dabi was one of the people who were able to read him like an open book.

"Stop that," he tells him as he heals him.

"Stop what?"

"You know what..."

His relationship with Dabi was weird. Sometimes he wanted to kill him. The hunter loved to rile him up. He was lazy and disrespectful. He would attract trouble wherever he went. He could count the times they had been persecuted out of an area because of the messes him, Spinner and Twice had gotten in. However, he trusted him with his life.

If something happened, he knew Dabi would be there. He was his right-hand man. He could leave the Vanguard Action with him without worrying things would collapse the moment he left. Dabi and him on some late nights, when neither of them could sleep, would be there for each other. Tomura had told the arsonist secrets he didn't even share with Kurogiri. And Dabi had told him things none of the other league members knew. They had bonded in some sort of way.

And sometimes, even when the raven was just a few centimetres apart from him, he wanted to be closer. Tomura was not afraid to say he finds the hunter attractive, scales and all. He was as hot as a fireplace and as a warlock, whose dark powers sucked all the warmth from inside him, he had many times cosied up to the fire-user to get warmed up. All of the party had. There were times he would see couples on the road and imagine it's him and Dabi. There was also the dream accident.

A few months ago Magne convinced him in trying her new sleeping potion. They had just come from a good-paying job, so using the free time they had, he accepted. The concoction was supposed to trap him in a dream for a few hours and rest his mind and body. Tomura tried it, following Magne's instruction and soon enough fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, he could tell he was not awake. The first indication was the changing background. The second hint was Dabi entering the room and kissing him without a hesitation. In that two hour nap, Tomura was caressed, worshipped and loved by Dabi. But even if it was a dream, it felt so real. When he woke up, he couldn't look at the hunter without remembering his dream. He avoided Dabi for an entire day. He still felt awkward about it.

"There, done," he tells him and quickly takes a step back from the raven. "Now come to the tent, we have a long journey tomorrow, and your food is getting cold," he turns, giving his back to his party-member, but stops when he hears the other speak.

"You're not going to say anything? About the blood?" he sounds... nervous, which is very offputting, since this is Dabi who's talking. He always talks in a monotone, leaving people guessing what he meant by his tone.

"It's none of my business," he responds. "We all have our secrets, Dabi. If you ever want to tell me, I'll listen," he heads back to the tent and hears Dabi silently walking behind him.

The rest of the party is already in their bedrolls when they arrive. They aren't asleep, just laying comfortably around the small fire. Dabi sits in between Toga and Compress and starts eating his bowl of stew. Shigaraki goes back to his maps and tracing a road, idle chatter fill the tent as they all get ready for bed, but Tomura interrupts all of that.

"We have a minor inconvenience," he announces, and they all turn their attention towards him. "If we take the easy road, it might take us a while to get to Furesurbs. But we can cut that time to three days if we don't avoid some of the more dangerous areas,"

"What areas?" Dabi asks.

"For the first day of the journey, we have options. We are surrounded by three of the most magic-hated cities, Servusurbs, Magumless and Torquecastra. If we want to avoid them, we need to go around them, but that is going to add three days to our travels. Though we could go through the Aurum Mountains, using the mines. Although I doubt we'll find a way past it without help, and that is going to cost us a lot of money," he explains.

The rest of the group is pensive for a moment. Torquecastra is a fortress, getting in they might be able to achieve, but getting out is going to be tricky. Servusurbs would be easier to get in and out, thanks to their slave business, but Spinner was not going to set foot in that place again. That left only Magumless, but the place was very strict with their magic laws. All those who possessed magical abilities had to be collared and sorted by colour, and they could only enter if they had an escort.

"I know a way we can get through Magumless," Compress says. "There are underground tunnels we can go through, used for smuggling magic-ingredients in. If Dabi doesn't show off his flames and Magne hides her potions, we would have enough escorts to get to them," he explains and looks at the ones who would have to get chained along with him, Toga and Shigaraki. They all nod, agreeing to the plan.

"What about the second day?" Magne asks.

"We have two options if we don't want to spend another three days travelling, Libidine forest or the Erat fields," Tomura explains and watches everyone groan.

Libidine forest was a death trap. The place was plagued with Succubuses and Incubusses and it was theorized to be sacred ground for them. If they caught you, you were either sacrificed or used as breeding stock. They would have to be on high alert if they went there, but that wouldn't mean they would make it out.

The Erat fields were the same. A spell was cast in the form of a mist on the place that created illusions to confuse travellers. Going alone was a sure death, but since they were a group, they might just make it. They would just have to keep each other grounded.

"What about the Nix mountain range? It would be a day more, but better than any of the other options," Dabi says.

"We are not prepared to spend two days in a frozen hell," he explains. "And it's wyvern season," Dabi grunts at his logic. "Erat is our safest option," they all nod, agreeing with him.

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

 The next day of their journey went well, luckily.

They arrived in pairs to the city, and once they were registered and inside, they would meet in an arranged location. Magne and Compress went first, then Toga and Twice and lastly, Tomura with Dabi and Spinner. The city of Magumless had a metal system to identified magic. Steel collars meant useful harmless magic, bronze was useful harmful magic, gold was useless harmless magic, silver was useless harmful magic, and black iron was dangerous magic. Tomura was collared with one of the laters.

They almost arrest him when he entered the city after the collaring. But Dabi, whose clothes covered his scales, stopped them, lying about a life debt he owed him. The guards luckily left them alone after that. Spinner, who was acting as his stead for the day, might have a lot to do with that. Nobody would come in between a man with a warlock and a giant lizard monster at his beck and call. Once they reunited, the trip went on smoothly. They weren't able to take out the chains until they reached the other end of the city, but below the city, they didn't have to be on constant alert.

By nightfall, they were all out of the town and camping by the side of the road. It took them another day to get to the Erat fields. They decided to wait for the next day to cross it and camped a few meters away from it. The next morning, they all woke up already dreading the journey before them.

"So what exactly are the fields going to do?" Spinner asks in his big lizard form asks as he carries Tomura, Twice and Magne. "I know it's supposed to be illusions, but what kind? Monsters? Or something like that?"

"The stories vary," Compress answers by his side, riding a magic-made horse Tomura conjured, Toga behind him. "Some say you see your past, your happiest moments, and you desire to go back keeps you in here. Others say you become delirious. You turn into a future of yourself that may never happen and get trapped inside the fantasy," As theatrical Mister Compress was, he was right. The stories were told by those who were able to survive the fields, and the only consistent theme in their tales was that they would never go back to it.

They soon got their answer, though. Magne suddenly let out a scream, scaring all of them and making some of them unsheath their swords. Luckily it was a false alarm. Magne just panicked because out of nowhere it looked as if she had been burned to death. When Shigaraki had met her, she was in Furesurbs running away from her family of witches. They didn't accept her as herself and gave her an ultimatum, be normal or die. She ran away and joined them.

One by one, they all changed. Twice suddenly looked like a teacher -(he was once offered to teach at the university of Libriratum, but he refused)-, Toga turned more druid-like (she had been raised by druids, but got kicked out when they didn't approve of her magic), chains and whip welts appeared on Spinner (he had been sold and bought as a slave until Tomura saved him), and Compress looked like he had been hanged (he had escaped from prison before they were able to do it). Tomura didn't change much. Instead of looking like a warlock in his black clothing and magical jewellery, he looked like a farmboy. His shirt turned rough and scratchy and his hair, which was a platinum and identified him as a Master of the Dark Arts, changed into its original black colour. Toga also complained about his smell, but she was the only one who noticed. Dabi was the last one to change. And boy, were they not ready...

The first hint they had that he changed was the metallic clangs and Twice's gasp. When they turned to look at Dabi, the person they knew was gone. Their cursed leather-wearing hunter with a hot temper and a cold stare was nowhere in sight. Instead of him, the dead prince of the Flame Kingdom rode beside them in his stead.

Golden armour on his legs, a white silk cape with golden trims flailing on his back, a blue regal vest with King Enji's emblem, his skin clear out of any scale, red hair sweeping with the wind and adorned with a golden crown encrusted with gems. Even his horse had a golden armour and a brand new leather seat. His crossbow was gone, as well as everything else and only his sword remained by his side. The only reason they knew it was Dabi was because of his eyes. The same blue as they ever been.

None of them dares to utter a word. They just stared at their friend as they walked. It was so weird to see the man so adorned and wearing so much expensive stuff. Especially since this was Dabi. The guy who had spent an entire job without a shirt because he wanted to cut expenses to afford some more food for his horse. He didn't cover up until Tomura bought him a new shirt.

"Stop. Staring." said guy says after a while, his eyes never leaving the path ahead. His request fell on deaf ears though. He sighs frustrated at his peers gaze. "You can ask one question each. After that we don't speak of this. Ever. Again." he grunts.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead? A GHOST!?" Twice exclaims with his usual tact.

"I never died, I just faked it and ran away," Dabi tells them.

"Why? You were living in a castle, with servants, freshwater and food and everything you could ask for, why give that up?" Spinner ask.

"I don't need much to be happy," Dabi shrugs. "'Sides, being king wasn't worth the price,"

"Do you have one of those lovely royal rings?" Compress suddenly asks, staring at his new attire with interest.

"I do. You take it, and I will cut off your fingers and feed it to Toga," Dabi warns, and it's enough to ward off the old thief.

"My turn! My turn!" Toga exclaims happily. "Let's see... Oh, were you ever betrothed?" she smiles and Tomura feels his blood heating up.

"Twice," Dabi answer with a grimace. "First to a princess who died before I could ever see her and then to the daughter of my fathers' army general as a prize after their last campaign," Tomura doesn't like this question.

"Don't you miss your family?" Magne asks softly.

"Sometimes, but they seem to be alright without me..." he answers surely remembering the last time he was his brother.

'His brother... the half cursed prince...' Tomura remembers, and his gears start turning in his head. It couldn't be a coincidence that they both were cursed. The two princes of the same kingdom, of the same family, supposed to inherit the same land? It didn't sound natural. Curses were like a string they had a start and an end, but they were also personal. Only a person could be cursed. Objects or other things could be blessed or damned, but curses were the result of a human. But who could have done that?

He had lived in the Flame kingdom for a while, and even if he didn't, it was no secret how much the people loved the heirs of the Royal family. The four siblings were praised for their selflessness, kindness and compassion. Princess Fuyumi taught how to read outside the palace to whoever passed by. Prince Natsuo was a diplomat who had given the people of their kingdom lower taxes. Prince Shouto was a brave warrior and a gentle soul. And Prince Touya, Dabi, he had had the closest relationship with the people. He was known as the Free Prince before his death. Always running from his duties and spending time with the peasants outside the castle. The kingdom had mourned his death for months. They had expected a great ruler from him, even greater than... the current... king...

"Was the king the one who cursed you?" Tomura asks, hoping to be wrong.

"Yes, he did,"

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 They all turned back to normal once they were out of the field. They took a moment to rest after it, the experience draining them all. None of them had a past worth going back to, so being reminded of everything they had run away from or escaped had hit them quite strongly.

They didn't stay there for long though, and soon enough they were at Furesurbs. Toga, Twice and Magne decided to go to Kurogiri's bar to unwind when they arrived while the rest of them went to their quarters. Being Sensei's apprentice, Tomura had been able to afford a big enough place for all of his party. They were near the bar where they got their jobs, and they were able to guard each other's back while in there. Their line of work gave them more enemies than friends, and they were stronger united than separated. Not to mention it was cheaper than any other inn or place they could rent.

Dabi was laying in his bed, unable to fall asleep when he heard a small knocking in his door. Believing it was one of his drunk partners, he ignored it. They would get tired soon enough and leave. He wasn't feeling up to being with anybody at the moment. But when the knocking came again, he figured whoever was doing it wouldn't stop until he opened the door. He gets up with a groan and opens the door, ready to send whoever it was away, but his words die in his mouth when he sees who it is. On his door is his leader, Shigaraki Tomura, with a crazed look in his eyes and a scratched up neck.

The guy doesn't even wait for him to let him in he just pushes him to the side and gets in. He is only wearing a loose pair of black pants and a black shirt with a simple pair of boots. His silver hair is messed up, and he is mumbling in a low voice.

"Tell me more about your curse," he demands once Dabi closes the door.

"...What?"

"Your curse, how does it work!?" he asks again.

"Why the sudden curiosity?" Tomura had never inquired about his curse. Ever. So what could have changed?

"How does it work, Dabi? Don't make this more difficult!" he goes off again, the scratching getting worse.

"No," Dabi crosses his arms. "Why do you want to know? Do you think once I'm cured you can use me to take over the kingdom? You want to use me for your world domination!?"

"JUST TELL ME, DAMNIT!" the warlock screams.

"TELL ME WHY!?"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE!" Tomura finally snaps at him, leaving Dabi speechless. "Curses usually end in death! You can't avoid it! You either finish it, or  it  finishes you! Now tell me everything you know about it so I can try to stop it!"

Dabi is quiet for a few minutes as Tomura hyperventilates after his rant. "... you can't," Dabi breathes. He had given up a long time ago. "The curse is the missing half of my brothers. One day we will turn into monsters and kill each other for the throne. Once my brother is crowned king, the curse should be broken-"

"It won't work," Tomura interrupts him. "Curses are conditional, if your brother wants to be king, he needs to fight you," the warlock tells him. Dabi feels as if he was shot through the heart when he says it. He falls to his bed defeated and stares at nothing.

"It won't happen," he hears Tomura mumble under his breath as he walks to the door. "You might have given up on it, but I won't. I will find you a cure, and I'm going to remove that curse from you," he tells him and flees the room, leaving an ex-prince behind with a heart that won't stop beating, as if trying to jump out of his chest.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Beside The Dying Fire (part four)

[DnD AU with the tour!verse]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 3397

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The sloshing of mud was REALLY starting to get on Katherine’s nerves.

After sleeping through most of the day, Katherine and her companions were on the move. But because of the heavy rainfall the roads had been reduced to an ankle-deep mass of mud and slime. The wetness wormed its way into Katherine’s fur shoes, completely ruining them, and she guessed it wasn’t much better for Joan, who couldn’t even wear shoes. Her hooves and the white skin around her feet were a dark brown color, and Katherine wondered if it would be stained that way forever.

The tragedy was still weighing heavily in all of their minds, especially Katherine’s. Everything kept replaying in her mind- the fire, the violence, the screaming, Anne’s death… Anne may have been silly and loud, but she was still her cousin. They grew up together. And now she was gone.

  “Kat?”

There was a gentle touch on her shoulder; Katherine turned her head to see Catalina, looking worried. She quickly wiped her eyes with her knuckles.

  “Yeah?” Katherine said in her best not-upset voice.

  “Are you alright?” Catalina asked.

  “Yeah,” Katherine said again, this time slightly weaker.

Catalina frowned and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Katherine sniffled lightly and nodded.

But nothing felt okay. Not anymore. Her home was burnt to the ground, so many of her friends and family and neighbors were dead, she didn’t even know what happened to her father… And now she was on a mission to stop a war that she didn’t even know how it started.

For nearly the entire day, they walked on in solitude, Katherine and Catalina hand-in-hand, the sounds of the forest and the occasional flitting birds their only other companion. Therefore, it was almost a surprise when they all heard the clip-clop of iron-shod hooves, and the rattle of wheels rising from the road ahead.

Soon, the source of the sound comes into view, a handful of riders leading four heavy, covered, ox-pulled wagons: a merchant caravan.

Katherine got a better look as the distance between her group and the caravan slowly closed. The outriders were clearly ready for danger, clad in vests of boiled leather, swords and maces belted to their hips. A few others sit in the wagons, children mostly wearing sturdy, well-made traveling garb.

At the head of the caravan were a man and a woman, both rippling with tension. Katherine sized them up as they approached, but none of them bore the wolf marking of Henry’s troops. The woman was a hard-faced and dangerous-looking centaur, armed and armored in the same fashion as the outriders, with a wide-brimmed kettle helm on her head and the equine body of a muscular shire. The man, on the other hand, was a rather short air genasi with pastel blue skin and halo of crystals growing from his head.          

  “Hail, friend!” The genasi shouted, earning a disapproving look from his centaur companion.

Katherine dared to wave back. “Hail to you as well!” She responded. The caravan guards seemed to relax visibly as she did so.

  “Well met, girl!” The genasi replied as he halted his caravan before the trio. “We haven't seen a lot of travelers on the roads these last few days. What with the war and all.”

The centaur woman beside the caravan master kept her distance. As far as Katherine could tell, she was entirely preoccupied with scanning the road ahead for threats. Judging by her expression, she seemed less than amused by the momentary stop.

The caravan master extended his hand to Katherine. "I am Gale of Edinburg, this is my caravan, and the centaur next to me is my associate, Gaddison. You must excuse her; she thinks threats are everywhere.”

  “They are everywhere,” The centaur replied bitterly, stamping one of her back hooves. She glanced at Katherine’s group and her furry ears pricked up in surprise when she saw Catalina. “You’re pregnant.”

Catalina groaned. “God, is that my entire personality trait now?” Katherine rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and Catalina crossed her arms and huffed in annoyance.

  “I don’t mean to offend you,” Gaddison said. “I’m just impressed to see that you’re out in these conditions, that’s all. War rages everywhere.”

Catalina ruffled the feathers on her head. “I can take care of myself. I’m very strong.”

  “She is,” Katherine nodded. 

  “Well, that’s good,” Gaddison said. Her eyes slid over to Joan, but she didn’t say anything.

  “By any chance, do you know what has caused the war?” Katherine asked the caravan master.

Gale blinked a few times. “I do not.” He said. “I don’t think anyone does.” He swung his head to the rest of the caravan, but they all either shrugged or shook their heads.

  “I see.” Katherine said.

She and the two caravan masters chat for a little while longer before the wagons take off again in a grinding of wheels, stomping of hooves, and squelching of mud. It wasn’t long before the caravan was just clouds of dust in the distance. Katherine and her companions began their trek once again.

Hours passed. The sun began to set and the last of summer’s humidity weighed thickly in the air. It would be autumn soon, which meant cooler temperatures, but more wind, rain, and snow. Katherine wasn't sure which was worse.

That being said, the sight of a large building up ahead, with brightly lit windows and smoke coming out of its chimneys, and a surrounding village was welcome indeed.

The smell of farm animals and manure floated on the wind, getting stronger and stronger as the trio got near. Bleats and snorts and clucks whisked around the village as they entered. Some people glanced over, mainly at Joan or specifically Catalina’s stomach, but didn’t stop them.

They soon came to a two-story hall accompanied by a row of stables and surrounded by a waist-high stone fence. Sounds of music and laughter spilled out of the open windows, and a bright watchfire burned at the fence's gate, next to a crudely-painted wooden sign of a sleeping creature, hung from an iron post set into the gatepost.

  “The Sleeping Dragon Inn,” The sign said to them in bright red letters visible by the light of the watchfire. Katherine and her companions made their way past the fence, through the courtyard, and into the main hall.

The high-ceilinged common room of the Sleeping Dragon In was bright and filled with the stink of spilled ale, roasting meat, and burning wood--all the aromas of civilization. Maybe half the benches in the big room were empty; the rest were filled with merchants, caravan guards, and other travelers, each busy with their own amusements, whether that be food, drink, dice, or song. A few glance over and whisper something to each other, but don’t speak up directly.

Katherine walked up to the bar. Behind it stood the stout, scruffy dwarf innkeeper, idly polishing a bottle of some dark fluid she had never seen before. She asked him for a bed for the night for her and her companions.

In response, the innkeeper rattled off a long list of options and their associated costs, from the expensive and luxurious to the downright squalid but cheap. Katherine ended up purchasing a comfortable private room and plain dinner for fifteen gold.

Katherine and her companions sat down at a booth as they were served a supper of thick brown bread and a bowl of stewed game birds seasoned with a tiny dash of valuable black pepper. Katherine was given a tankard of freshly-brewed ale, while Catalina and Joan were given a simple glass of water.

  “Do you think they’d let me have some ale?” Catalina asked Katherine, not at all joking.

  “Absolutely not.” Katherine said instantly.

Catalina wrinkled her nose. “Come on! Just one drink!”

  “No.” Katherine said again, and Catalina huffed in response.

Katherine looked over at Joan, and saw that she was looking all around the inn. She appeared to be searching for something, but stopped when she noticed that Katherine was watching her. She slumped down in the booth and nibbled on her bread.

After they ate, they were shown their room on the second floor, which was, admittedly, a little cramped, but it had four walls, a roof, two cots with a straw mattress, and a bed, which was all they really wanted. 

  “We’ll go to the market in the morning,” Katherine said. She and Joan had taken the cots, while Catalina got the bed. “We may need to purchase some things before we get moving.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Catalina said, and Katherine heard the sheets she was laying on crinkle when she shrugged.

  “Alright, let’s all get some rest,” Katherine said. “Goodnight.” She closed her eyes and dreamt of fire for the rest of the night.

------

Colorful flags of different trading companies fluttered in a strong wind above the market square, which was bustling with activity that morning. Though Holm was fundamentally a small town, a fair number of traders bearing mundane goods such as grains, dyes, and cloth were stopped in the square, as did monster hunters and treasure hunters offering hard-to-appraise finds from nearby ruins. The merchants mostly traded from impermanent tents open at one side, but some wander through the crowd and act as their own auctioneers: “Who will give me fifty, fifty for a silver ring from the time of the ancients? Fiftyfiftyfifty thank you fifty-five-fifty-five-fifty-five I have fifty-five…” The air was sweet with the smells of cinnamon and curry spices from the south, and stinky cheese from the north.

Currently, Katherine was in a tent that sold clothing, and was squinting at a big, jaunty lime green hat with a huge feather. By her side, Catalina ran her hands over a golden robe while the shopkeeper eyed her suspiciously, probably wondering how she would fit in the cowl. When Catalina noticed this and the glances her belly was getting, she scowled and stomped over to Katherine.

  “I hate it here,” The Aasimar grumbled.

Katherine reached up a hand to massage her friend’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’m sorry, honey,” She said. “I have enough to buy some fresh clothes for all of us. Would you like some?”

Their clothing seemed to finally be fully dried from the perpetual wet of the rain and river, but still bore the stink of smoke and burned flesh. Several people seemed to notice this by the way their noses wrinkled when they would pass by too close by.

  “No, it’s okay,” Catalina said, tugging on her black nun’s robes. Her pregnancy was easily seen through them, earning a lot of incredulous and judgemental stares.

  “Are you sure?” Katherine asked. “I don’t mind, really.”

Catalina shook her head. “I’m good.”

  “Hm.” Katherine said. “Alright.”

Just as they’re about to walk out of the shop, they hear a halfling woman cry, “Thief!!!”

Katherine spun around to see someone in a drab brown cowl brazenly running off with a basket of red apples, leaving a large gap in the offerings of a halfling’s fruit cart. They easily bobbed and weaved around all the townsfolk who try to get in their way. The halfling uselessly shouted, “Thief! Thiieeef!” until she started to lose her voice.

The thief was about to get away when a huge mountain of an orc stepped in their path and they fell backwards. The hood came off, and Katherine hissed underneath her breath.

  “Oh, shit,” Catalina said helpfully at her side. “That thief belongs to us!”

Townsfolk rushed to pick up the fallen apples--the “count of five” rule seemed to be an old tradition for judging the edibility of fallen food in Holm. Then they return the fruit to the halfling, because honesty must also have been a tradition in the town.

Two of the town guards show up, but Katherine and Catalina have to step in before they can strong-arm the thieving albino Tiefling away.

  “I am so sorry about her,” Katherine said. “We should have kept a better eye on her.”

One of the guards looked Katherine up and down. “This rat belongs to you two?”

  “Yes,” Katherine said. “I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Thankfully, the guards took mercy on them and left them with just a warning. Katherine breathed a sigh of relief when they were gone, then gave Joan a stern glare.

  “What were you thinking, young lady? Stealing?” She said.

  “Sorry,” Joan whispered, her ears drooping. “I-I just thought that we would need some food… Especially Catalina.”

  “Rude.” Catalina said. “But fair.”

Katherine sighed again, then knelt down in front of Joan, since the little Tiefling was so short. “Then I can buy some. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Joan nodded, avoiding eye contact. Katherine ruffled her hair, then stood up straight. A few people were muttering and glaring at Joan, but the whole matter of the thief was quickly forgotten when a man down the street shouted, “Death cloud!”

Katherine blinked, looking around. To the east, she could see a dark purple-and-black cloud on the horizon. The cloud looked big, maybe as big as the town. And judging, by the sudden pandemonium broken out through the market, its appearance was not a good thing.

Immediately, the merchants broke down their tents, and many market patrons hurried into their houses and basements. Shutters snapped shut all down the street. The animal sellers hastily bargained with landowners, then pushed their sheep through storm doors into basements. A baby cried madly despite her mother’s tense reassurances. Some people uprooted flowers as they passed them; they’ll be no good to anybody else soon enough.

  “What’s going on?” Catalina shouted over the panic. But the only answer she got was more screaming and yelling.

Joan yelped loudly as someone stomped on her tail. Katherine was shoved into Catalina, and then promptly got her foot trod on. They were all going to be trampled if they didn’t get away soon. 

  “Oi!” A voice suddenly called out. “Get in here!”

The three of them whirled around to see a man waving from out of his front door. They hurried over and inside the safety of his home.

The house was filled to the brim with artifacts and art. Various geared axles from larger defunct automated artifacts, and some compelling-looking sleek metal cylinders etched with symbols that look very powerful gleamed in the light cast from conjured glass orbs all throughout the rooms. A whole alchemy set, composed of vials, beakers, and burners that laid out across a mahogany desk; a sculpted dragon egg, which was swaddled in some sweaters; a torc of life and death from an old laboratory; some rather fancy clothing on mannequins; an assortment of spare automation parts; and, of course, a shined bookshelf packed full of hefty tomes of magic- all of these things decorated that household that pulsed with magical energy.

Their savior was a young wood elf man, swathed in forest green robes with sparkling gold hems. He had bronze skin that was speckled with blue and pink paint, dark coppery hair, and deep, rich brown eyes. An amber sparrow earring dangled from one of his pointy ears, and he was wielding a hand-carved paintbrush. He hurried around the house, slamming shutters and curtains, but then turned to them with a warm smile after he finished.

  “That was close,” He said. “You three must be travelers. Mostly everyone in the area knows about the storms.”

  “What was that?” Catalina asked.

  “Death Cloud,” The elf said. “It’s been going on for a few years, now. King Henry conjured it over our village after we refused to fight in the war with him. Better than being raided and killed or kidnapped, I suppose.”

Katherine winced internally. So other villages were being terrorized by Henry, too. She wondered what would have happened if Ghent had gotten a Death Cloud instead of being raided.

Would Anne still be alive?

  “Anyway, I’m Hans Holbein,” The elf said with an elegant bow. “Who are all of you?”

  “Katherine Howard,” Katherine said. “These are Catalina and Joan.”

Hans swept his eyes over the three of them, focusing on Joan. “Stars above,” He murmured. “An albino Tiefling! Wow, I’ve never seen one before! I didn’t even know they existed!”

Joan shuffled her hooves, glancing up at Katherine with an anxious expression. Katherine patted her head comfortingly.

  “Hokka, banos,” Came a deep, rumbling voice.

Katherine’s eyes widened as a large stone golem came lumbering out of one of the other rooms. Its rocky grey body was covered in clumps of moss and streaked in green engravings. Its eyes were glowing bright green as it stared down at the trio.

  “Hokka, slogeils,” It said.

  “Woah,” Catalina said.

  “Oh, right!” Hans presented the golem with a grand gesture of his arms. “This is Rocky, my two ton enchanted stone golem!”

  “You must have been feeling very creative when naming it,” Joan said.

Katherine felt a jolt, but Hans laughed loudly, clearly not offended.

  “You are absolutely right, little one,” Hans said. 

Outside, the storm began to pick up. Katherine heard the wind buffeting the house and heavy rain pelt down on the roof. There was also the sizzling of something. Hans ran over to a ladder leading up to a loft and peered through a periscope. He whistled.

  “It’s real bad out there,” He said, then looked over at the trio. “Wanna see?”

One-by-one, they each took a look through the periscope.

Katherine watched as the black-and-purple cloud engulfed the entire town, building by building. At the cloud’s touch, flowers withered, trees dropped their leaves, and wooden shutters blackened as though charred. Black raindrops fell against tree trunks and melted the bark in grooves.

Finally, the cloud came for Hans’ building, blocking her view of anything but its own darkness. She quickly stepped back, and Hans retracted the periscope and shuttered the hole.

  “Looks like there’s nothing to do but wait,” Hans said. “You all can stay with me until the storm ends. Make yourself at home!”

------

It’s been two days since the Death Cloud rolled into Holm and Katherine had raging cabin fever.

As hospitable as Hans and Rocky were, she hated being cooped up inside when she had a war to stop (even if she didn’t exactly know how to stop it just yet). She read Hans’ wide collection of books, painted, and even tried casting spells, but nothing could get rid of her boredom. She was ready to go back out and continue her adventure. So, on the second day, she approached Hans.

Hans was in a small alchemy room, grinding up some fire salts in a mortar and pestle. Joan was asleep in their bed chambers, curled in a small ball, while Catalina was reading peacefully. Surely they wouldn’t mind Katherine’s plans.

  “We need to get going.”

Hans’ ears flicked up and he turned to Katherine with confusion on his face. “But the storm is still going.”

  “Hosa, banos. Hosa, rauo’nd.” Rocky interrupted to offer a plate of deviled eggs it prepared itself.

  “Thank you,” Katherine said, taking one. “And I know,” She continued. “But we really need to get moving again. We kinda have a mission.”

Hans raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He put the mortar and pestle down. “I suppose I have something that can help you get through the storm. Come with me.”

Hans took Katherine to his bedroom and presented her a selection of masks and waxed clothes. Katherine ended up choosing a stag mask and fresh fur clothes, Catalina chose a hare mask and padded light armor, and Joan chose a bird mask and grey robes. Hans stuffed the noses of the masks with incense and herbs that he said would protect him from the poisonous fog outside in the storm, then handed them a small, pocket-sized tome of spells.

  “Just in case,” He said. “You three be careful out there. And remember me when you’re legends.” He flashed a smile.

  “Thank you, Hans. You too, Rocky,” Katherine said, dipping her head. “We won’t forget this.”

  “No problem,” Hans said. “Go on, now. Good luck.”

Katherine nodded, opened the door, and then ventured into the Death Cloud with her companions.

[minjungfmd]

1111 / creative claims verifications

creative claims for @fmdjiah ‘s 11:11 — writing a song half finished and packaged away for the other producers to take reigns of when she’s left in a creative rut. warnings / none wc / 1699 (not including lyrics)

11:11 make a wish.

and that’s what she’s known from grade school on — lucky number eleven. (and she figures, it’s possible for luck to draw from the number when it’s one off from a multiple of three). but it leaves a pocketed memory, each time her eyes fall onto the clock picking up 11:11 throughout the years.

a 11:11 for the empty tears of desperate sobs, a heart pounding wayward against the breaths that don’t leave her lips. a 11:11 for the silent moments of solitude where the mind writes itself a blank canvas, and she only hears the glimpses of sounds that nestle its way past her apartment. a 11:11 for the string of text messages unsent, and the 11:11 in the afternoons signaling the start of the day.

today’s 11:11 falls at night, when she finds herself covered up against the end of a seoul summer. still left with the same pieces of no resolve left, mourning the break-up that fell straight past the void of her fingertips. it’s this restlessness in the night that pulls up her notebook, when she’s scanning past the stages of empty stories and outlines of words she composes when her mind’s filled with nothing more than mismatched ideas and lost memories.

when she finds herself on a page prior, she reads the piece slotted at 11:11. figures, the seo minjung in the past wouldn’t outsmart the seo minjung of the present — the nostalgia with the number still remains the same.

it starts off with a few words, connecting the empty pieces of a dead-end relationship. a wound fresh, bleeding red to the point where she can see where the tears smudged the drops of undried ink. sees where the words end with “will i forget you?”

she writes her response as no.

everything finds its place and leaves you took all of me and left but like the two hands of a clock i keep lingering in the same place

because back then or any time in the past in respect to now, she finds herself making a dwelling of the same old sob story of a girl broken hearted. fragmented as a victim of the old memories she draws back, over and over again. irony hits her when she realizes — nothing more than 11:11 flipped, or the hands of the clock. any juxtaposition leaves the same thing read over and over again. she lands herself in the same dwellings — by choice, when it houses the warmth she’s come to known. because even if the foundation lies creaky and everything becomes another scar against the skin of her bones, it’s familiar. warming, the kind of second sense intuition that draws her in closer each time.

but just maybe, she’s the only one settling in nostalgia.

when she looks back to each date set — future plans, written in stone only for it to be shattered from twenty feet over. the rubble enough to set as pebbles lining the floor as she walks her feet one by one, numb to any of the pain. she thinks he’s better off now, forgotten about it when she’s the only one clinging on, holding each step into place to feel something once more.

the remedy is simple: if she holds on long enough, stowing it away. then, maybe by then, it’ll become erased and thought of no more.

in the calendar the date we planned long ago if you forgot about it all i guess i have to erase it after a while

she writes her response one after one in honesty for a future reflection of herself to read. by then, if she’s lucky, it’ll settle in surprise with everything wiped from her mind. she’s no clementine, and he’s no joel — and given the choice, she’s not sure she’d rip away the stitches for a gaping heart, yearning to remember.

instead, she’ll hone it up to fate. hone it to 11:11 the next time her eyes draw towards it — because the only honesty she reveals tonight lies in the final two lines:

you took every part of me i’ll believe i’ll be over you

it’s hard to accept the last fact knowing closure doesn’t come so easily. but, she’s gone girl. always moving from one pillar to another, people to people. setting to setting. a sea of faces and a million and one bodies, she finds her home in nobody. it’s just theory — the fixture he’s become has settled in was too sturdy for a wreck like her.

she closes her journal up, checking the clock. no longer 11:11, it lands in 12:12 — unlucky and ironic.

-

she takes autumn in colors.

hues of ashy browns, tattered with the muted oranges of colder weather. the coldness enough to make her fingers frigid, knowing full-well the swing of seoul’s heat will rise up again with the sun.

but for now, it’s night time, and she makes her mark in calloused fingers, pressing into each string one by one. baby chords as her instructor would say. she likes the sounds of the minors, fitting for fall and slotting right into the melancholic haze. it’s strumming on the first chord, before the realization that the progression follows a smoother transition, like she’s falling from summer girl to fall woes.

it’s the steady pace, the progression like you’re easing down, only to fall a step upward. it’s at that point where it feels a little stronger, more stable — enough that her fingers press on the laptop recording, a bare mic. stripped from the studio, honing in on the acoustic echoes of her living room space. she starts strumming one chord to the next, finished with the final, only to loop it over and over again.

it’s strumming along, the lyrics right in front of her. as soon as the first progression finishes, it’s left right in mark with the statement: it’s 11:11. 

she sings it, more along the lines of stating the facts than providing any more than a soft lullaby. a statement that strikes the beginning, sets the tone — addresses the obvious: 11:11, make a wish or say a farewell to the past 11:11s down in the graveyard of broken promises.

so, when her first few words sing to the loop of chords — she takes it gently, reels it back from the statement in song. it sings itself, no frills nor fancy rifts that play to the voice. instead, she hones it to a series of a single octave, carrying the words slowly, gently. like a present packaged and labeled: fragile, handle with caution. the first verse flows, steadily carrying on each fragment of the story — it’s what she writes down: carry on the song throughout, second verse too.

the build-up of the chorus lies flat when judgement tells her to keep the minimalistic seams of the song in tact. the song lies in the acoustics, the rawness. the general vulnerability that carries afloat despite the transitions of chords. she carries those on when her voice sing-songs into a tug of war at the chorus. it pushes, leading into a higher tempo as her fingers tap along to the rhythm she has in her mind, feeling like there’s one last push, trigger to lead the words left under the pretense of guarded hearts. 

yet, by the time the push dies, it comes time for the pull back — the restrain of two feet treading backwards before the brunt of it topples over. still on guard, like reaching the pinnacle of the rollercoaster braced for the fall, only to slowly retreat. 

retreat comes in the na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na’s. no meaning, just floating in the ellipsis of things she bites her tongue for. a to be continued or read between the lines for what comes next, honing in back to the power of acoustics then to the next verse. 

the song comes in an evident pattern, a rollercoaster that finds itself more like a round about carousel than anything else.  

the night ends, and she finds herself trapped in the hours of reworking each chorus. finding the breathiness of the line endings, an airiness that carries itself full circle throughout the song. a mere demo takes her to sunrise, to where the remnants of the playback of a night spent leave her towards to stare at the sunrise, half-guessing the demo. it still feels bare bones, lacking a certain melancholic grit — still, she doesn’t touch it. leaves it at that.

-

by the time she reaches the song again, it’s been more than enough time and passage of too many schedules to render her mind without any recollection besides the light flitting touches in a sleep-deprived daze. she sits on her desk, replaying the demo over and over till the bare bones touches of the song clocks her once more. there’s a confusion, rendering a palm to her face, staring at her monitor — a clash of song layers, each bit taken from each take. 

(she still tries to add in something).

the traces of an orchestral echo in the back — scratch that, it classifies it too much, not meant to be a broken and bred song of heartbreak nor a remnant of chopin’s dark marches.

she takes the piano, adding in harmonies to the guitar chords in the build up of the chorus. it’s enough that it doesn’t fix itself to anything more than another shade of blues (she keeps it, muffles it out to hide behind the strings only until the ellipsis moment leaves her to play the trickle of keys louder in the higher octaves of the piano).

it’s not until the percussion takes place, she’s left at a standstill. confusion in how to drain out the song enough, but not to the point where the entirety of the strings loses its place. so, she reverts to gentle taps of the bass drum, steadily thumping the bpm like a metronome — an audible metronome, that still seems half-fleshed when she’s sits face-first in front of the screen. she plays it over, and over — still lost, still confused. frustration takes full force before she adds anything else, and she admits defeat with what’s present.

her fingers click away, packaging the sound into a file. a quick kakao sent — “i give up, and this is the most mastering i’ll do with this. it all sounds the same, help.” 

and somehow, she manages to relegate duties to another producer, a close friend. to pick up the pieces where she’s led astray.

[dailyaudiobible]

04/23/2021 DAB Transcript

Judges 1:1-2:9, Luke 21:29-22:13, Psalms 90:1-91:16, Proverbs 13:24-25

Today is the 23rd day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian, and it is a pleasure and a joy to come around the Global Campfire together and just find our place, do what we do, exhale, settle in to the safe oasis that we create for ourselves as God's word comes washing into our lives. So, it is a pleasure and joy to be here with you today. And we’re turning the page. We’re actually moving into some new territory in the Old Testament. We conclude the book of Joshua yesterday which leads us to the…well….to the first chapter of the book of Judges.

Introduction to the book of Judges:

And judges is what comes next. We can think from the title of Judges that it's a big book of judgment, right? Like, this is one of those books in the Bible where you don’t want to read it because it’s nothing but judgment. That's…that's what's going on here. Let's, since we’re moving into new territory, let’s just really briefly look back at where we've been. We met Abram. We saw him become Abraham. Abraham's story is essentially the origin story of the Hebrew people. So, Abraham and then the generation of Isaac and the generation of Jacob. Jacob being Abraham's grandson. Jacob has a couple of wives and a couple of concubines thrown into the mix and there's 12 children born. And we remember all that between Rachel and Leah, the battle of the sisters over the children. And these children, they're going to grow up and become tribes. I mean they will…like they will start tribes. Jacob's name is changed to Israel. And, so, his children are the children of Israel. One of those kids was named Joseph and we followed a long path with Joseph being trafficked into slavery and ending up in Egypt. And over the course of time ending up second-in-command in Egypt when a famine comes that reunites the family. They thought Joseph was dead. Jacob thought his son was long dead, but they are reunited in life, which is how the children of Israel made it to Egypt. And then after Joseph dies, they flourish in the land of Egypt and become a very populous mighty people, but they are enslaved by the Egyptians. So, four centuries later, so they’re in slavery for 400 years. That's quite a long time to establish the status quo, this is when we meet the man, Moses. Moses, we met in a basket in the river and Pharaoh's daughter raises him then he has to flee because he kills an Egyptian. He gets married in the wilderness then he sees a burning Bush that is not consumed, and he meets with God and God sends him back to set the people free. Moses wants nothing to do with it but in the end, he obeys, and Moses and his brother Aaron lead the people. And that's when we go through all of the plagues and the Exodus from Egypt. And then they began their wilderness journey. And it was supposed to be a lot shorter than it ended up being. But they got to the very very precipice of entering into the promised land and the spies came back and said, “we can’t do it. There's giants in the land. It's…it's a great land but we can't win”, which doomed an entire generation to continue to learn the message of the wilderness. And we spoke a lot about our own…our own wilderness journeys as we wandered in the wilderness with the children of Israel. Then they made it to the banks of the Jordan River. There's all kinds of stuff that happened in between there, we remember, but then Moses got all the people together and he gave them three discourses, three speeches, that comprise the book of Deuteronomy, the things that Moses's needs the people to know and that he needs to know that he said out loud before he dies. And, so, they listened to that and then Moses died, became a part of history. Joshua takes the leadership over Israel, leads the people across the Jordan River. The first city of conquest is Jericho. We remember all of this and then they are at war basically. All of the different tribes and kings of the land, they attack Israel, and Israel keeps winning and they begin to settle the land. Then Joshua brings everybody back together at Shechem and that's where these famous words, “as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” come from. And the people say they will serve the Lord. They…they renew the covenant and Joshua tells them, “you are a witness…your lives are…are a witness against you if you don't obey this. That's what brings us to judges. So, we will begin the book of Judges and realize that judges were what came next in the leadership of Israel. They had had a profit in Moses lead them. They had a profit and Joshua lead them. Once they're gone and all of the generation that knew them died off, then there's an emerging generation that doesn't know exactly what to do. They are all tribes doing whatever seems right in their own eyes. And we will begin to see that some of the things that they're doing that they think is right in their own eyes isn't and will see a slide beginning to happen. And, as the people become oppressed, they cry out to God and a judge rises up to lead the people. And some of these judges are our pious and committed to God and some of these judges have some strange ways of doing things but God uses them in this time. So, as we read the book of Judges, we will be passing through several centuries of time. The book of Judges sort of covers an in between period. So, Moses and Joshua are gone, and then there's the period of the judges, which will lead us to the period of the monarchy. Like, when the period of the judges reaches its end, the people are going to want a king. They don’t want a judge anymore, they don’t want a prophet, they want a king. So, it won’t be too long after we conclude the book of Judges that we will be entering into that, that time of the monarchy of ancient Israel. So, that's kind of the lay of the land. That's where we've come from, that's how we got here to page 1 of the book of Judges. So, let's dive in. We’re reading from the New Living Translation this week. Judges chapter 1 verse 1 through 2 verse 9.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. We thank You bringing us into this new territory in the book of Judges. Holy Spirit come. Plant the words of the Scriptures into our lives. Allow them to till the soil and plant good fruit, that the harvest may be bountiful, the fruit of the spirit in our lives may be bountiful. Help us to see ourselves in these stories. Help them to be mirrors into our own souls into the motives and the brokenness in our own lives. And even as we begin to turn into the passion narrative in the gospel of Luke, even as we've read of the preparations for this last meal before suffering and the plot to betray You, our Lord, we enter the story once again, the story of a love so profound that it has no equal, a love that is drawn us to it like a moth to a flame. And, so, as we watch this story unfold again Holy Spirit come and help us to enter into it with a profound amount of gratitude. We pray this in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

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And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

My name is Darla from Pennsylvania this is my first time calling. I just wanted to reach out to the man. I was listening on April 16th and the man said that he felt like he wasn't even worthy or able to be helpful or something along those lines and my heart just kind of sank because I know…I know how that feels and I just wanted to let you know that I'm praying for you in Jesus’ name.

Hi Daily Audio Bible this is Alobia from New Mexico this is my first time ever reading with you guys and so far, it has been a fantastic time. I'm really happy that I'm here. I'm happy that I found you guys. But this is my first time ever doing this kind of thing, but I do want to ask for some prayers if it's not too much. I am struggling with my relationship. He's not equally yoked with me and I recently got back into my religion and I stopped doing the things that I wasn't supposed to be doing and our relationship changed a lot and we got through it a little bit but now he proposed, and I'm just confused. I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do anymore. I…I wanna be with this person but I know I shouldn't be with him when we're not equally yoked. But at the same time, I can't bring myself to like break-up with him. This might seem like something that's not really important, but I've been dating this person for three years and I'm confused and I'm not sure what to do. I've been praying about it, but I would like to hear from other people too. But I also want to give thanks for this community. I'm not sure if a lot of people will hear it. Well, we'll see, but I hope that you guys can pray for me and pray for my situation. But thank you. I'm sending my love out to all of you and have a good rest of your day.

Good afternoon DAB family God bless you all. I don't know your name I think you said Ramona or Mona from South Cali. You're 32 years old single mom of an 8-year-old boy with stage four kidney failure. You are on dialysis three times a week; 31 surgeries now has cancer. You called in praying for an encouraging because of James from Fort Worth TX who lost his daughter last year January 27th of 2020 and you're asking for prayer so that you may have God's peace, God's joy, God's healing because your 8-year-old son told you it's OK for you to go to heaven so that you don't suffer anymore. My dear sister I cannot imagine that and I'm standing alongside you in your tears. I'm praying for you and I'm believing that there’s nothing that God cannot do. There is nothing that God cannot do. God can turn this around in the name of Jesus. I am declaring healing over your body inside out I am declaring totally healing in your body. I am declaring functioning kidneys in the name of Jesus. I am binding those cancer cells to be done to be eradicated from your body in its entirety in the name of Jesus. I am declaring you healed by the blood of Christ. I'm loosening the healing powers of Jesus over you from the crown of your head to the soul of your feet in Jesus’ name. Amen. Esther from Orlando.

Hi, I'm calling in to pray for Lacey, Lacey, I believe and the Lilies. Lacey I just listened to the broadcast on the 17th, and I heard your prayer. I too suffer from a disease that won't let me fully extend some of my body and I also took hope in that same reading that you did. Keep reaching sister. God will straighten you up. I know that it doesn't seem possible right now but just keep reaching for heaven and you will reach it. We love you.

Good morning DAB family this is Doctor John from Illinois listening this morning at 4:18. Just wanna pray this morning for Chad who's suffering depression, anxiety, and fear but he knows enough to call, he knows enough to ask for help. And I listened to this brother pray for his nephew Jeff, the firefighter who’s sick with covid still experiencing troubles with it. And I guess my one encouragement the one…makes my heart just overwhelmed with I believe it's Ramona from Southern California she's a 32-year-old woman 8-year-old son, she's experiencing kidney failure, having some other diagnostic problems. And I'm just overwhelmed at her heart toward other people though. And she said something really sparked my heart. And she said even in the midst of this affliction God is still God. He’s still righteous and He’s still holy and He’s still just. And she's in desperate straits and yet she cries for help for other people and lifting up other people encouraging other people, that's her faith. Her joy is in the Lord. So, let's take a note from this. Family let's pray for others. Let's put others above ourselves. God hears every single prayer, and he knows our hearts before we even ask. So, thank you Brian and Jill again for this wonderful place that we can come together, this wonderful family that we share each other’s hearts and needs. This is the love of God acted out.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family this is Stan from Maryland. My heart was impressed to pray for Trent. I believe he was on the August 18th prayer request. Dear father lift up Trent. He…he said is in a dark abyss of depression and despair and fear. Father God I pray that You would put a hedge of thorns all around Trent so that the influences of the evil one causing him to despair and to be fearful and to be depressed would lose interest and leave him. And Father, You know Trent’s heart. He's trying to draw near to You. So, I pray Father that You were drawing near to him. When You're in that dark place it's hard to see any light. So, I pray Father that You would illuminate Your presence in Trent’s deep soul s0peaking to him as he needs to hear so that he knows that You love him deeply, that You will lift him up and that You…that he can rely on You. As a matter of fact, Father relying on You is the only way because we are all confused Father God about what our future is and about what our perception of reality is. So, I pray these things for Trent in the name of Jesus. Amen.

[ascottywrites]

Colts and Katanas-- The Richonne List

They weren’t supposed to happen but their chemistry was too much not to do anything with. Probably helps that certain people wanted it to happen too *nudge* *nudge* Andrew Lincoln. So in light of the end of the last season and the goings on of the newest season of The Walking Dead I decided to mend my poor broken heart by going back to the basics of my obsession with this fandom. Even through the turmoil of The Prison they have been my OTP...(i mean so was Dixonne, but that’s not important right now). Anywhoozle I present some of the more recent ventures in the Richonne ship as well as some of the few I return to when I need a boost. Enjoy! 

                                                     * *

Taking chances by thematsaididwelcome (Complete: 18/18| 49,649) 

Michonne and Rick go along with Shane and Andrea's plan. Will it work out for them or blow up in their faces.

Contractions of the Heart by Richonne4Life (wip: 23/?| 145,339) AU Richonne. Michonne is a surrogate for lifelong friend Rick Grimes and his wife Lori; Lori leaves town the day their son is born; Rick is a lovesick fool; Richonne eventually rises. I do not own the TWD characters.

The Perfect Blend by Mlsts51 (wip: 18/?| 70,815) Michonne Andrews has never met Rick Grimes. Yet, she has something, or rather someone that belongs to him. After their first encounter turns disastrous, she decides not to reveal her secret. Rick, however, still discovers the truth and a battle between them ensues. Unexpectedly, though, their hearts become casualties of their war.

The Dead and the Dark Rider by love.devil.movies.baby (Complete: 26/26| 78,415) 

A Zombie AU set shortly after the Civil War. A world on the edge gets thrust into the zombie apocalypse. This new reality doesn't care about race, gender, or class, but it's people still do. When a dark skinned stranger shows up at his gate, she turns Rick Grimes' world inside out. Can they survive this new existence before the old one kills them? Cover Art by msdoomandgloom

Married at First Sight by love.devil.movies.baby (Complete: 17/17| 46,720) 

Ask, and you shall receive...A young Rick and Michonne are newlyweds, chosen for one another by their respective communities. Can they navigate the waters of an arranged marriage to become the power couple of the apocalypse? Or will the world they live in undo them before they can even begin? A AU zombie story and continuation of a prompt from We're the Ones Who Live.

The Season of Light by Nwfanmega (Complete: 15/15| 120,604) Alexandria was supposed to be a new start for all of them. But what happens when relinquishing the old world proves harder than embracing the new? Will Michonne chose to seek her own happiness, even if it takes her further away from Rick? Angst, love, and a healthy dose of redemption. Richonne and TF, with a double scoop of Michonne. Because, she deserves everything.

Inherited: One baby by Sophiasown (Complete: 20/20| 131,190) What happens when life as you know it takes a sudden drastic turn and you discover that things will never be the same again. This is the fate for Rick and Michonne, two friends that life kept tearing apart, after a tragic event two of their closest friends left an inheritance for them both in the form of a precious baby. Can this beautiful baby girl bring these two together?

Parallel Hearts by severelybabykryptonite (wip: 21/? | 49,943) 

Rick and Lori Grimes find shelter at a camp outside of Atlanta where he develops a fast friendship with Michonne who is in the camp with her boyfriend, Mike.

The Way Forward by Siancore (wip: 43/?| 98,913) 

Michonne is finding it difficult to deal with her feelings for Rick. Will she push him away?

In a Different World by Lyra Verse (Complete: 29/29| 120,364) 

Rick never found Carl and Lori. He's hurting and darker than ever. Michonne has managed to protect Mike and Andre, but she has sacrificed being with them in the process. Rick is leader of the ASZ and Michonne is a resident of The Kingdom. The two communities have to work together to face common enemies. So they come up with a tried but true show of loyalty. A marital union.

Take Me To Church by Lyra Verse (wip: 6/?| 21,700) 

It is 1860. Rick is a genteel Southern gentleman; Michonne is the daughter of a voodoo priestess. After a mysterious encounter with Michonne one evening, Rick's life is changed forever. AU.

A Rival's Claim by Fik Freak (Complete: 16/16| 179,120) 

After an unexpected encounter, Michonne and Rick find themselves as rivals on opposite sides of a polarizing court case. Will their uncompromising opinions keep them from what they both really want? This is an AU/no ZA story, that is Rated M (Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes)

Verbal Communication by charrrmed (Complete: 22/22| 69,320) The slow pace of life in Alexandria gives Rick and Michonne a chance to step away from what they do best (communicate without saying a word) and open their mouths. It's touch and go, starting with Rick's fumbling attempt to ask Michonne to live with him and the kids and worsening when Michonne finally confirms Rick's long-held suspicion that she had a child.

My Funny Valentine by cakebythepound (Complete: 11/11| 57,957) 

The group has arrived at Alexandria, and Rick is acting... strangely, to say the least. Michonne thinks she can reel him in, but even she finds herself second-guessing the man she thought she knew. (Richonne. Timeframe: Alexandria. Warnings: Adult Language, Adult Situations, Jessica Anderson.)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Pluralist, your daily link-dose: 24 Feb 2020

Today’s links

How “Authoritarian Blindness” kept Xi from dealing with coronavirus: Zeynep Tufekci in outstanding form.

The Snowden Archive: every publicly available Snowden doc, collected and annotated.

Key computer vision researcher quits: facial recognition is a moral quagmire.

My interview on adversarial interoperability: you can’t shop your way out of late-stage capitalism.

81 Fortune 100 companies demand binding arbitration: monopoly and its justice system.

I’m coming to Kelowna! Canada Reads is bringing me to the BC interior, March 5.

A flat earther commits suicide by conspiracy theory: conspiracies are comorbid with corruption.

This day in history: 2019, 2015, 2010, 2005

Colophon: Recent publications, current writing projects, upcoming appearances, current reading

How “Authoritarian Blindness” kept Xi from dealing with coronavirus (permalink)

Xi Jinping’s refashioning of the Chinese internet to ratchet up surveillance and censorship made it all but impossible for the Chinese state to use the internet to detect and contain Corona Virus, writes Zeynep Tufekci in The Atlantic. Tufekci talks about “authoritarian blindness,” where people too scared to tell the autocrat the hard truths makes it impossible for the autocrat to set policy that reflects reality.

https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2020/02/coronavirus-and-blindness-authoritarianism/606922/

(Cue Mao telling China to “eat 5 meals a day” because his apparats were too scared to warn him of impending famine, then selling off the nation’s food reserves for foreign currency because he thought it was surplus. Food production collapsed.)

Before Xi, a certain amount of online dissidence was tolerated because it helped root out dangerously corrupt local leaders before they could do real damage. It’s always hard to make autocracies sustainable because corruption and looting leaves them hollow and brittle.

When Xi took power in 2012, he restored “one man rule” and began a series of maneuvers, including purges, to consolidate power for himself. The rise and rise of China’s mobile internet made this far more effective than at any time in history.

“Authoritarian blindness” kicked off the Hong Kong protests because the state so badly misjudged the cause and severity of the grievances there. The same thing happened in Wuhan when doctors and netizens faced retaliation for describing early virus outbreaks.

The reality-debt built up by official denial always results in reality bankruptcy, eventually – so finally, the reports of the virus were so widespread and alarming they could no longer be suppressed. But by then, the virus had proliferated. This is an important point: “the killer digital app for authoritarianism isn’t listening in on people through increased surveillance, but listening to them as they express their honest opinions, especially complaints.”

That’s how you stabilize the unstable: by using digital authoritarianism to fine tune the minimum viable amount of good governance to diffuse public anger. It’s how you maximize your looting without getting strung up by your ankles.

The Snowden Archive (permalink)

The Snowden Surveillance Archive collects “all documents leaked by former NSA contractor Edward Snowden that have subsequently been published by news media.”

https://snowdenarchive.cjfe.org/greenstone/cgi-bin/library.cgi

It’s indexed and searchable, created by Canadian Journalists for Free Expression and the Politics of Surveillance Project at the Faculty of Information at the University of Toronto. (Canada is a “Five Eyes” country that partners with the NSA on global mass surveillance)

There’s a “Portable Archive” version – a tarball with all the docs so you can create your own mirror:

https://snowdenarchive.cjfe.org/greenstone/collect/snowden1/portablearchive.html

They provide instructions for turning this into a kiosk they call a “Snowden Archive-in-a-Box.” Costs about CAD120.00

Key computer vision researcher quits (permalink)

Joseph Redmon is the creator of YOLO (You Only Look Once), a key Computer Vision technology. He’s just announced his resignation from computer vision work, citing ethical concerns with Facial Recognition.

https://twitter.com/pjreddie/status/1230523827446091776

His thread is really important, calling out the gap between what ML researchers SAY they want to do about ethics and how they actually deal with ethical issues: “basically all facial recognition work would not get published if we took Broader Impacts sections seriously.”

“There is almost no upside and enormous downside risk.” That’s some serious Oppenheimer stuff right there. The kicker? “For most of grad school I bought in to the myth that science is apolitical and research is objectively moral and good no matter what the subject is.”

My interview on adversarial interoperability (permalink)

The Firewalls Don’t Stop Dragons podcast (which offers information security advice and analysis for non-technical people) just posted part 2 of our interview on Adversarial Interoperability, Right To Repair, and technological fairness.

http://podcast.firewallsdontstopdragons.com/2020/02/24/adversarial-interoperability-part-2/

Part one went live last week:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1229842619380858885

In this one, I try to explain how John Deere’s war on farm-based repairs is connected to Apple’s war on independent repair, and how consumer choices can’t solve either problem — but collective action can!

It’ll take a movement, not individual action. Thankfully, such a movement exists. EFF’s Electronic Frontier Alliance, a network of groups nationwide working on local issues with national coordination. It’s the antidote to individual powerlessness.

https://www.eff.org/electronic-frontier-alliance/allies

81 Fortune 100 companies demand binding arbitration (permalink)

Binding arbitration was originally created as a way for giant corporations to resolve their disputes with each other without decades-long court battles costing tens of millions of dollars. SCOTUS ratified the principal in 1925: firms of similar size and power could use binding arbitration as an alternative to litigation.

http://www.onthecommons.org/magazine/we-now-have-a-justice-system-just-for-corporations

In the century since, corporations have eroded the idea of arbitration as something reserved for co-equals and have turned it into a condition of employment and of being a customer.

In an era of both monopoly and monoposony, it can be hard to find a single employer OR vendor who will conduct business with you unless you first surrender the rights your elected lawmakers decided that you are entitled to.

Today, the largest corporations in the world require you to “agree” to binding arbitration before you can conduct business with them: your monopolistic ISP or cable operator probably does.

As do Walmart, Uber, and Amazon (and not coincidentally, all three have crowded out all the competitors you might choose to take your business to if this strikes you as unfair).

In 2019, SCOTUS ratified the practice.

https://www.cnn.com/2020/02/13/business/binding-arbitration-consumers/index.html

81 out of the Fortune 100 non-negotiably require binding arbitration if you want to conduct business with them. “Arbitration is often confidential and the outcome doesn’t enter the public record” – if you get screwed you won’t know if it’s a one-off or a pattern.

This is especially pernicious in the realm of US health care. There is ONE pain specialist in all of Southern California that my insurer covers who doesn’t require binding arbitration. When I took my daughter to the ER with a broken bone, they threatened not to treat her unless we signed an arbitration waiver – and that ER is now owned by a PE firm that bought every medical practice in a 10mi radius and now they all do it.

We are literally replacing public courts with private corporate justice, where the “judge” is paid by the company that maimed you, or ripped you off, or killed you.

I’m coming to Kelowna! (permalink)

I’ve never been to Kelwona, BC or anywhere in BC apart from Victoria and Vancouver, so I am SO TOTALLY EXCITED to be appearing in Kelowna for Canada Reads on Mar 5. Please come and say hello! (it’s free!)

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cbc-radio-presents-in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-96154415445

The event is a collaboration between the Kelowna Public Library and CBC Books, and I’m being emceed and interviewed by Sarah Penton. It’s going to be recorded for airing later as well (I’ll be sure to fold it into my podcast, which you can get here: http://craphound.com/podcast/)

A flat earther commits suicide by conspiracy theory (permalink)

A(nother) flat-earther has tried to prove that the Earth is disc-shaped by launching a homemade rocket. This one (“Mad” Mike Hughes) killed himself by pancaking into the desert.

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/daredevil-mad-mike-hughes-dies-homemade-rocket-launch-filmed-tv-n1141286

This is awful. Jokes about “Darwin Awards” don’t change that.

When you scratch a conspiracist, you generally find two things:

Someone who knows chapter-&-verse about real conspiracies (e.g. “If you think antivax is so outlandish, let me tell you about the Sackler family”)

Someone who has been traumatized by conspiracies (belief that the levees were dynamited during Katrina to drown Black neighborhoods are often embraced by people whose family were flooded out in 58 when the levees in Tupelo were dynamited to drown Black neighborhoods).

A belief that the aerospace industry engages in coverups and conspiracies is not, in and of itself, irrational. Aerospace is the land of conspiracies and coverups. Look at the Boeing 737 Max!

Conspiracies are an epiphenomenon of market concentration. “Two may keep a secret if one of them is dead”: the ability to conspire is a collective action problem, wherein linear increases in the number of conspirators yield geometric increases in the likelihood of defections. When an industry is reduced to 3-5 giants, the likelihood is that every top exec at each company worked as a top exec at one or more of the others (to say nothing of the likelihood of intercompany friendships, marriages, etc). Moreover, an industry that concentrated will almost certainly be regulated by its own former execs, as they are likely the only ones qualified to understand its workings.

Many of us were appalled by the sight of the nation’s tech leaders gathered around a table at Trump Tower after the inauguration.

But we should have been even more alarmed by the realization that all the leaders of the tech industry fit around a single table.

We are living in both a golden age of conspiratorial thinking and of actual conspiracies. The conspiracy theories don’t necessarily refer to the actual conspiracies, but “conspiracy” is a plausible idea with a lot of explanatory power in 2020.

We spend a lot of time wondering about how we can fix the false beliefs that people have, but some of our focus needs to be on reducing the plausibility of conspiracy itself. Make industries more competitive and diverse, make regulators more accountable.

Put out the fires, sure, but clear away the brush so that they don’t keep reigniting.

I strongly recommend Anna Merlan’s REPUBLIC OF LIES for more.

https://boingboing.net/2019/09/21/from-opioids-to-antivax.html

This day in history (permalink)

#15yrsago: Labour MP Brian Sedgemore excoriates his own government’s terror laws in the speech of his lifetime: https://web.archive.org/web/20050227035611/http://www.publications.parliament.uk/pa/cm200405/cmhansrd/cm050223/debtext/50223-21.htm

#10yrsago: How ducks, Nazis and themeparks gave America its color TV transition: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2010/feb/23/digital-switchover-bbc-spectrum

#5yrsago: Alex Stamos, then CSO of Yahoo, publicly calls out then-NSA Director Adm. Mike Rogers on crypto backdoors: https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2015/02/yahoo-exec-goes-mano-a-mano-with-nsa-director-over-crypo-backdoors/

#5yrsago: A chronology of the Canadian Conservative Party’s war on science under PM Stephen Harper: https://scienceblogs.com/confessions/2013/05/20/the-canadian-war-on-science-a-long-unexaggerated-devastating-chronological-indictment

#5yrsago: Citizenfour, Laura Poitras’s movie about Edward Snowden, wins the Academy Award for best documentary: https://www.aclu.org/press-releases/edward-snowden-congratulates-laura-poitras-winning-best-documentary-oscar-citizenfour

#1yrago: Every AOC staffer will earn a living wage: https://www.rollcall.com/2019/02/22/alexandria-ocasio-cortezs-call-for-a-living-wage-starts-in-her-office/

#1yrago: Richard Sackler’s “verbal gymnastics” in defending his family’s role in killing 200,000 Americans with opiods: https://arstechnica.com/science/2019/02/sackler-behind-oxycontin-fraud-offered-twisted-mind-boggling-defense/

#1yrago: German neo-Nazis use Qanon memes to signal-boost their messages: https://www.thedailybeast.com/how-fringe-groups-are-using-qanon-to-amplify-their-wild-messages

#1yrago: French courts fine UBS €3.7b for helping French plutes dodge their taxes: https://www.thelocal.fr/20190220/breaking-french-court-hits-swiss-bank-ubs-with-37-billion-fine-in-french-tax-fraud-case

#1yrago: Apple to close down its east Texas stores to avoid having any nexus with America’s worst patent court: https://www.macrumors.com/2019/02/22/apple-closing-stores-in-eastern-district-texas/

#1yrago: Small business cancels its unusably slow Frontier internet service, Frontier sticks them with a $4,300 cancellation fee: https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2019/02/frontier-demands-4300-cancellation-fee-despite-horribly-slow-internet/

#1yrago: Fast food millionaire complains that social media makes kids feel so entitled that they are no longer willing to work for free: https://amp.news.com.au/finance/work/careers/muffin-break-boss-fury-over-youth-who-wont-work-unpaid/news-story/57607ea9a1bbe52ba7746cff031306f2

#1yrago: Apps built with Facebook’s SDK shovel incredible quantities of incredibly sensitive data into Facebook’s gaping maw: https://www.cnbc.com/2019/02/22/facebook-receives-personal-health-data-from-apps-wsj.html

#1yrago: Super-high end prop horror-movie eyeballs, including kits to make your own: https://fourthsealstudios.com/

#1yrago: EU advances its catastrophic Copyright Directive without fixing any of its most dangerous flaws: https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2019/02/european-governments-approve-controversial-new-copyright-law/

Colophon (permalink)

Today’s top sources: Four Short Links (https://www.oreilly.com/feed/four-short-links), Slashdot (https://slashdot.org), Naked Capitalism (https://nakedcapitalism.com/”).

Hugo nominators! My story “Unauthorized Bread” is eligible in the Novella category and you can read it free on Ars Technica: https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

Upcoming appearances:

Canada Reads Kelowna: March 5, 6PM, Kelowna Library, 1380 Ellis Street, with CBC’s Sarah Penton https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/cbc-radio-presents-in-conversation-with-cory-doctorow-tickets-96154415445

Currently writing: I just finished a short story, “The Canadian Miracle,” for MIT Tech Review. It’s a story set in the world of my next novel, “The Lost Cause,” a post-GND novel about truth and reconciliation. I’m getting geared up to start work on the novel now, though the timing is going to depend on another pending commission (I’ve been solicited by an NGO) to write a short story set in the world’s prehistory.

Currently reading: I finished Andrea Bernstein’s “American Oligarchs” this week; it’s a magnificent history of the Kushner and Trump families, showing how they cheated, stole and lied their way into power. I’m getting really into Anna Weiner’s memoir about tech, “Uncanny Valley.” I just loaded Matt Stoller’s “Goliath” onto my underwater MP3 player and I’m listening to it as I swim laps.

Latest podcast: Persuasion, Adaptation, and the Arms Race for Your Attention: https://craphound.com/podcast/2020/02/10/persuasion-adaptation-and-the-arms-race-for-your-attention/

Upcoming books: “Poesy the Monster Slayer” (Jul 2020), a picture book about monsters, bedtime, gender, and kicking ass. Pre-order here: https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781626723627?utm_source=socialmedia&utm_medium=socialpost&utm_term=na-poesycorypreorder&utm_content=na-preorder-buynow&utm_campaign=9781626723627

(we’re having a launch for it in Burbank on July 11 at Dark Delicacies and you can get me AND Poesy to sign it and Dark Del will ship it to the monster kids in your life in time for the release date).

“Attack Surface”: The third Little Brother book, Oct 20, 2020.

“Little Brother/Homeland”: A reissue omnibus edition with a very special, s00per s33kr1t intro.