#marley takeover

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Twenty Two

In the heart of a secluded stronghold hidden underneath Queen Historia’s farm, the Jaegerists had gathered in a vast assembly hall. The air was thick with anticipation, a mixture of tension and exhilaration as hundreds of loyal soldiers — members of the Survey Corps, the Garrison, and the Military Police — stood shoulder to shoulder, awaiting the appearance of the man they believed would bring them salvation.

It had been mere days since the Premier’s unexpected death and Eren’s dramatic escape from his cell. Word spread quickly about his impending takeover, and soon, the ranks of the Jaegerists swelled beyond anything anyone had anticipated. The room was filled with faces marked by resolve, their eyes burning with unwavering loyalty to Eren Jaeger, the man they believed was the last hope for their island.

Floch stood at the edge of the crowd, nodding in approval as he observed the assembled soldiers. He, more than anyone, understood the lengths to which these people would go to follow Eren. Every person here was ready to stand beside him, fight for him, and die for him if necessary. Behind Floch stood Historia, silent but poised, her expression unreadable as she waited for Eren to address his followers.

Finally, a ripple of movement went through the crowd as Eren emerged from the shadows. The hall fell into a tense silence as he stepped forward, his expression intense, his green eyes sharp as they surveyed his followers. Eren was dressed in his signature black hooded jacket, his posture tall and authoritative. He seemed both larger than life and deeply grounded, his aura commanding every eye in the room to remain fixated on him.

He raised a hand, and the crowd immediately straightened, their breaths held as they waited for his words. Eren’s voice was calm but carried an edge of steel, his words resonating throughout the room.

“Today marks the beginning of our true liberation,” he began, his tone low but forceful. “For too long, Paradis has been backed into a corner, left to fend for itself against a world that would sooner see us crushed than give us a chance to defend our own lives. But we are not defenseless. We have the power to fight, and we have the will to take control of our destiny.”

The room was silent, each Jaegerist leaning in to absorb his every word, their loyalty and conviction deepening with each sentence.

“I am committed to securing a future for us — for all of you, your families, for the future generations of Paradis,” Eren continued, his voice growing stronger, his presence becoming almost magnetic. “But this won’t come without sacrifices. We have one weapon strong enough to deter the entire world: the Rumbling. And I intend to use it to its full potential.”

A murmur went through the crowd, a mixture of awe and approval rippling among them. They knew that only Eren had the courage and determination to go to such lengths. Only he was willing to bear the weight of the Rumbling and ensure that Paradis could survive without fear of annihilation.

“But there is something else,” Eren said, his voice softening slightly as he glanced to his side, where Aurora stood, her face calm but her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

Eren extended a hand, motioning for Aurora to step forward. The crowd watched intently as she took her place beside him, her platinum hair gleaming under the dim lights, her delicate features exuding a quiet strength that, for those who looked closely, mirrored Eren’s own resolve. Her presence brought a new level of curiosity to the room, as whispers began to spread through the crowd.

Eren’s voice cut through the murmurs. “This is Aurora Jaeger. My wife.” His words were clear, direct, and resolute, and they left the Jaegerists stunned, their gazes shifting between Eren and Aurora.

“She has been with me, through everything,” Eren continued, his tone tinged with a fierce protectiveness. “She’s risked her life, sacrificed everything, just as I have. And just as you stand by my side, she has stood by mine.”

Aurora’s eyes softened as she looked up at Eren, a subtle smile on her lips. Though the eyes of hundreds of people were on her, she felt safe beside him, his presence a source of strength she could draw upon. She knew the importance of this moment, the symbolic weight of being introduced to Eren’s followers as his wife.

Eren’s gaze swept over the crowd, and his expression hardened. “Aurora is to be protected at all costs. Her safety is paramount. I expect each and every one of you to ensure she is never put in harm’s way. Consider it your highest priority — as important as the mission itself.”

The room held a charged silence, each Jaegerist processing the weight of his command. To protect Aurora was to honor Eren’s wishes, to solidify their loyalty to him in the most tangible way possible.

Historia, standing near the front, raised a fist, her face alight with fervor. “For Eren! For Aurora! For Paradis!” she called, her voice echoing through the hall.

The rest of the crowd echoed his cry, their voices swelling in unison, creating a wave of energy that filled the room. “For Eren! For Aurora! For Paradis!”

Eren watched them, a grim satisfaction settling in his chest as he saw the unwavering determination in the faces of his followers. He knew these people were ready to fight for the future he envisioned — a future he could only secure by unleashing the Rumbling and destroying any threat to Paradis.

Aurora glanced over at Eren, her eyes meeting his, her expression a mix of pride and trepidation. She had never seen him like this — standing as a leader, commanding hundreds of loyal soldiers who would do anything he asked of them. Yet despite her apprehension, she felt an unshakable pride in him, in the vision he was fighting to protect.

Eren placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her with his touch. He leaned close, his voice low enough for only her to hear. “You’re safe here. They’ll protect you with their lives.”

Aurora nodded, her voice equally soft. “I trust you, Eren. I know you’ll do everything you can to keep us safe.”

Eren’s eyes softened, a rare vulnerability breaking through his fierce exterior as he looked at her. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll make sure no one ever touches a hair on your head.”

As the Jaegerists watched their leader with his wife by his side, they felt a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn’t just about securing the safety of Paradis — it was about preserving the lives of those they cared for, ensuring that they could finally live without fear of invasion or destruction. And with Eren at the helm, they believed they had a leader who would stop at nothing to make that dream a reality.

With one final look at his followers, Eren stepped back, his gaze sweeping across the room, and spoke in a voice that reverberated through every person present. “We are the Jaegerists. We are the shield and sword of Paradis. And together, we will build a future where we can finally live as free people. If we win, we live. If we lose, we die. If we don't fight, we can't win! We must fight!”

The Jaegerists erupted into a roar of approval, their voices united in loyalty and conviction. For Eren, for Aurora, and for the island they called home — they would lay down their lives, just as he would for them.

Aurora watched the crowd, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and apprehension. She knew that the road ahead would be paved with bloodshed, with sacrifices beyond what she could yet comprehend. But standing beside Eren, feeling his strength and love for her, she knew she was ready to face whatever lay ahead.

…

The following day under the quiet shadows of Historia's farm, Eren sat with Floch and a few handpicked Jaegerists, discussing their next moves and the delicate matter of deflecting blame for the Premier’s death. Eren’s expression was stony, his jaw set with a grim resolve as he revealed the decision he had made.

“We need a fall guy,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “Someone loyal. Someone willing to take the blame for Zachary’s death.”

Floch’s eyes flickered, understanding the implications immediately. He leaned forward, nodding with a calculating look. “I think I know just the person. Young, dedicated, and a recent convert to our cause. He won’t question it.” Floch’s words were steady, but there was a certain unease hidden in his eyes.

Eren’s gaze bore into Floch. “Make it happen. I want this behind us by tomorrow.”

Floch’s lips tightened, and he nodded, fully understanding the burden placed on him. He would handle it. It was a necessary sacrifice, a step closer to the goal Eren had committed himself to, and by extension, one Floch had sworn to follow.

Once the others had dispersed to put Eren’s plan into motion, Aurora came forward quietly from the nearby doorway, her face pale but set with determination. She had overheard the conversation, and the reality of the sacrifice Eren was making weighed heavily on her. She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the floor before meeting Eren’s.

“Eren… you’re really going to frame someone for this?” she asked softly, guilt gnawing at her. She knew it was her own hand, her own concoction, that had led to the Premier’s death, and the thought of someone else taking the blame made her heart ache with shame.

Eren placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his expression softening slightly. “Aurora,” he said, his voice firm yet tender, “this isn’t on you anymore. We’re too close to our goal to let this setback ruin everything. What happened was necessary, but we can’t afford for you to be implicated.”

She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes, but she knew Eren wouldn’t be swayed. His love for her was absolute, and his willingness to protect her, even at the cost of another’s life, was unwavering. She managed a small nod, though the guilt still lingered heavily in her heart.

As they stood in silence, Floch approached again, his footsteps deliberate as he observed the pair. His expression was unreadable, but Aurora could feel his lingering gaze. She had noticed his scrutiny before — a watchfulness that unsettled her. Despite his outward respect for her and Eren’s relationship, there was something cold and cautious about the way he looked at her.

“Floch,” Eren said, breaking the silence, “we’re counting on you. Make sure this stays under control.”

Floch nodded curtly, his eyes drifting back to Aurora, and he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Of course, Eren. I’ll make sure no one suspects anything. But…” He looked directly at Aurora, his tone carefully neutral. “You know, Mrs. Jaeger, I’ve come to understand that you’re not quite as… helpless as you might appear.”

Aurora’s expression stiffened, a hint of unease in her gaze. She didn’t respond immediately, and Eren’s own demeanor shifted, his protective instincts flaring as he stepped slightly in front of her.

“What are you getting at, Floch?” Eren asked, his voice a touch colder.

Floch held up his hands, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Nothing disrespectful, Eren. I’m just acknowledging that Aurora here is… quite resourceful. I mean, it takes a certain kind of person to concoct a poison as potent as the one that took down Zachary.”

Aurora’s jaw tightened, and she took a steadying breath, maintaining her composure. “You don’t know me, Floch,” she replied, her voice level but edged with a quiet intensity. “You might think you understand what I’m capable of, but you don’t.”

Floch’s smirk faded slightly, his gaze sharpening as he studied her, but he kept his silence, unwilling to push further. His doubts lingered, but he could sense that pressing this issue would not end well for him. If there was one thing he understood, it was that Eren’s loyalty to Aurora was unbreakable — a line he dared not cross.

“I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan,” Floch said finally, his tone respectful but cautious. “And I’ll leave you both to your business.”

As he turned and walked away, Aurora let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her tension visibly easing. She looked at Eren, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability in her eyes.

“He doesn’t trust me,” she murmured, her gaze dropping.

Eren reached for her hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “He doesn’t need to trust you,” he replied, his voice soft but resolute. “I trust you. And that’s all that matters.”

Aurora managed a small, grateful smile, her heart steadying as she held onto Eren’s words. In his presence, she felt protected and understood, even if the rest of the world looked at her with suspicion. Still, the lingering guilt remained, a weight she couldn’t easily shake.

“What if… what if this gets out of hand?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “What if they find out the truth?”

Eren’s gaze hardened, and he pulled her close, his hands resting on her shoulders. “They won’t. I’ll make sure of it. And even if they did… I would never let them hurt you.”

Aurora leaned into him, feeling the strength of his conviction, and she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe her. In this moment, her fears faded, and she allowed herself to trust in Eren’s words, to believe that he would protect her, no matter the cost.

As night settled over the stronghold, Eren’s orders were quietly executed. The scout recruit — a young man loyal to the Jaegerists and utterly devoted to Eren’s cause — was positioned as the fall guy for the Premier’s murder. The plan was seamless, each detail meticulously orchestrated to ensure the blame would fall entirely on him. The next morning, rumors began to circulate, whispers of the supposed killer’s capture spreading throughout Paradis, satisfying the military police’s demand for justice and quelling any further investigation.

But even as the plan succeeded, Aurora’s heart remained troubled, the weight of the secret gnawing at her. She would stay by Eren’s side, no matter what, but she couldn’t help but wonder what the future held — for them, for their child, and for the people of Paradis.

…

The next day, Eren stood before the gathered Jaegerists, his sharp gaze sweeping across the ranks that had grown day by day. Floch stood at his side, while Historia, with her calm presence and quiet strength, observed from a step behind. Beside Eren, Aurora appeared composed, though a touch of apprehension flickered in her eyes. She knew what today meant—the Jaegerists’ movement was no longer just whispers in darkened hallways. Today, they would rally under Eren’s command in plain view, challenging the very foundation of Paradis’s current military leadership.

“We’re here to change the fate of this island,” Eren began, his voice low and deliberate. “To break free from the cycle that’s kept us caged, and to create a world where our children won’t grow up as prey for enemies who only want us dead. The old ways of trust and submission haven’t worked, and it’s up to us now to secure our future.”

The soldiers in the room, the Jaegerists, nodded in agreement, murmuring their assent. They looked to Eren with hope and fierce determination, but Eren’s mind was momentarily elsewhere. He couldn’t shake the image of his old friends—Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and even Hange and Levi. They had seen the world outside the walls, lived with people who, while once considered their enemies, had shown them kindness. Eren knew they probably heard of his plans for the Rumbling by now since he revealed them to his followers and would question his decision to bring destruction to the world, but he didn’t care anymore if they knew. He had his army now. 

“Historia,” Eren continued, turning to her. “The people will listen to you. They trust you—they see you as their queen, the one who freed them from the chains of tyranny.” He met her gaze, a look of trust passing between them. “I need you to show them why this is the only way. Rally them to our side, so they’ll understand that this isn’t just about us—this is about the survival of every last person on Paradis.”

Historia nodded solemnly. She knew the weight of what he was asking. “I’ll do it, Eren,” she said quietly. “They deserve to know what’s at stake. But we have to be ready for resistance. Not everyone will understand… not at first.”

Floch, with his usual fervor, added, “Once the people are behind us, the military will have no choice but to stand down. Every day, more soldiers join our cause. They know Eren is the only one willing to take the necessary steps to secure our future.”

As they continued their discussion, Eren’s attention drifted again, the faces of his friends flashing before his eyes. He knew that once the Jaegerists had full control, his friends would be the ones left standing in opposition. They, unlike the others, had seen the beauty of the world beyond Paradis when they all went to Marley for the summit for the Subjects of Ymir. They had laughed and shared meals with people from other lands. He remembered that night in the refugee camp, when they’d met Ramzi, the pickpocket boy, and glimpsed lives just as fragile and oppressed as their own, and Ramzi’s grandfather had invited them all into their camp for a night of celebration.

But for Eren, those memories only hardened his resolve. He couldn’t be swayed by moments of kindness, not when he had seen what awaited them if they did nothing. He would not allow the beauty they saw to blind him from the horrors he knew lay beyond.

“Eren,” Aurora’s gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, grounding him back in the present. She placed a hand on his arm, her gaze steady and supportive. She knew the burdens he carried, and she trusted him. “Are you ready?”

He nodded, squeezing her hand. “I am.”

Just then, a Jaegerist approached and saluted sharply. “Eren, Commander Hange, Captain Levi, and several scouts have arrived.”

Eren’s jaw tightened, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Historia, Floch, and Aurora. The confrontation he had anticipated was here.

“It’s time,” Eren said. “Let’s meet them.”

Eren, Aurora, Floch, and Historia stepped out of the farmhouse, moving toward the growing crowd of soldiers gathered in the clearing. The Jaegerists, loyal and unwavering, formed a protective line around their leaders, a united wall of defiance against anyone who dared challenge Eren’s authority. The sun had started to descend, casting a golden glow across the tense scene, yet the air was thick with an unspoken threat, the kind that left a prickling sensation crawling across everyone’s skin.

Standing opposite them, Levi, Hange, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and a handful of other scouts were frozen in shock, their faces pale as they took in the sheer number of Jaegerists surrounding Eren. The reality of what they were up against became painfully clear as they glanced over the rows of soldiers, realizing that the Jaegerists easily dwarfed any one military regiment. They were organized, prepared, and they were prepared to die for Eren Jaeger.

Levi’s sharp eyes darted over each Jaegerist, assessing their stances, gauging their commitment. He knew he could cut through a crowd, but he wasn’t reckless enough to think he could take on hundreds without sustaining serious damage. He clenched his fists, frustration rippling through him, though his face remained as composed as ever.

Hange took a step forward, trying to catch Eren’s eye. “Eren!” she called out, her voice echoing through the stillness. “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve formed an army under our noses!.”

Eren held her gaze, his face unreadable. He walked forward with Aurora at his side, her hand interwoven with his. He was calm, unperturbed by the accusing eyes trained on him, yet his presence held a weight that was impossible to ignore.

“We’re here to secure our future, Hange,” he replied steadily. “One where we’re not begging for scraps of freedom. I’m done waiting for the world to spare us out of kindness.”

Levi’s stare was colder than ice, his narrowed gaze zeroing in on Aurora. “And you, Mrs. Jaeger,” he said, his voice low and brimming with suspicion, “do you expect us to believe you’re innocent in all this? A mere ‘young recruit’ killing the Premier?” His tone dripped with doubt. “We’re not fools.”

Aurora met his gaze, a flicker of guilt flashing across her features before she forced herself to stand tall. She’d prepared herself for this. Eren had assured her that whatever suspicions Levi and Hange had, they wouldn’t be able to pin anything on her without evidence. Still, she could feel the weight of their distrust, and it wasn’t easy to keep her composure under Levi’s cold scrutiny.

“Believe what you want, Captain Levi,” Aurora replied, her tone firm though her voice held a hint of quiet remorse. “But I would never do anything to harm Eren’s cause. My loyalty is to him, just as yours was to humanity.” Her hand clenched around Eren’s, her silent message clear—she was with him, whatever it took.

Hange looked back and forth between them, her expression hardening. “You’re aligning yourself with someone who’s tearing this island apart, Aurora. And you’re not just risking your life; you’re risking all of ours.”

Floch stepped forward, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he folded his arms, addressing the scouts with a smug confidence. “The world has betrayed us time and time again,” he declared. “Eren’s the only one willing to do what’s necessary, and you all know it. This isn’t about ideals or dreams anymore—this is survival.”

Armin looked at Eren, his expression torn. He’d never imagined this—his best friend, the person he’d looked up to and believed in, standing against them, commanding an army of his own. “Eren… this isn’t who you are,” Armin said, his voice barely a whisper. “We can find another way. We can end this without destroying everything we’ve fought for.”

Eren’s gaze softened briefly as he looked at Armin. He didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want to see the anguish etched on his friend’s face. But he also knew that Armin didn’t fully grasp the depths of the threat they faced. “Armin,” he said quietly, “I’ve seen too much to sit by and hope for peace. The world won’t change on its own. If we don’t act, we’ll be crushed.”

Mikasa stepped forward, her expression a mix of betrayal and pain. “Eren,” she murmured, her voice cracking, “I don’t understand how you could do this… How you could turn on everything we’ve believed in, everything we were fighting for together.”

Eren’s face remained impassive, though a flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes as he looked at Mikasa. He wished things could be different, wished he could explain it in a way she’d understand. But he knew she’d never see things his way. “Mikasa… this was never about us against the world. This is about saving what we have left.”

Jean clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. “And how is leading a cult of Jaegerists going to help that? You’ve gone off the deep end, Eren. You’re not saving us—you’re dragging us all down with you!”

Floch’s smirk widened as he stepped between them, his voice dripping with mockery. “You all just don’t get it, do you? The old ways failed. Eren’s taking control, and you’re either with us or against us. There’s no room for half-measures.”

Levi’s hand drifted to his blade, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed the growing crowd of Jaegerists, their glares now focused on the scouts. He could feel the tension rising, and he knew a single wrong move could spark an all-out conflict. Still, his focus remained on Eren. “Is this what you wanted, Eren?” he asked, his voice cold. “To divide us? To throw away every bond we’ve fought to protect?”

Eren’s eyes flickered, a glimmer of regret showing just briefly before he hardened his resolve. “All I wanted was freedom, Captain. I wanted a life where we didn’t have to live in fear. If that means I have to become the enemy to secure that future, then so be it.”

Historia, who had been standing quietly beside Eren, finally stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. “This isn’t about division, Captain Levi. It’s about making sure our people have a future. Eren may be leading this movement, but he’s not the only one who believes in this cause. I believe in it too.”

Her words sent a shock through the scouts, especially Armin, who stared at her in disbelief. “Historia… I never thought you’d stand behind this.”

She met his gaze, her expression unyielding. “I’m not blind to the consequences, Armin. But I refuse to stand by and watch as my people are led to slaughter. This is about survival.”

Connie, who had been silent until now, looked between Eren and Historia, his face a mixture of anger and confusion. “You’re talking about survival, but this… this feels like betrayal. You’re turning on the very people who’ve protected you.”

Eren let out a heavy sigh, his eyes dark with determination. “I didn’t turn on anyone. I chose the only path I could see to protect the people I love.”

Aurora looked up at Eren, her heart aching at the weight he bore. She reached out and took his hand, her grip reassuring. She understood his pain, even if she couldn’t fully grasp the enormity of his plans. He was willing to risk everything for her, for their future, and she would stand by him no matter what.

Hange took a step back, her gaze weary. “If this is truly the path you’re choosing, then I don’t know if we can follow you anymore, Eren.” Her voice cracked with sadness as she looked at him, a friend who had once been a beacon of hope, now standing as a force of fear.

Eren remained silent, the weight of her words settling on him. He knew he couldn’t turn back, couldn’t falter. Not now.

Levi’s eyes were cold and sharp as he looked from Eren to Aurora, then back to the Jaegerists gathered around them. “Then it seems we’re at an impasse.” He glanced at Hange and the others, his voice carrying an air of finality. “We’ll step back for now. But don’t think this is over.”

The scouts turned to leave, their steps heavy with the knowledge that a line had been drawn, and they were on opposing sides. As they walked away, Eren watched them go, a strange mixture of sorrow and resolve etched on his face.

Historia placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “They’ll understand someday, Eren. Maybe not now, but someday.”

Eren nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the retreating figures of his friends. He didn’t know if they’d ever understand, but he couldn’t allow himself to hope for that. He had made his choice, and he would carry it through—whatever the cost.

…

Levi stormed into the scout headquarters, his jaw clenched and his fists tight by his sides, every step radiating a barely controlled fury. The scouts followed behind him, silent and uneasy, acutely aware of the gravity of the situation they were facing. Levi had seen countless betrayals, unimaginable horrors, and lost comrades, but this—this betrayal by Eren and the Jaegerists—cut deep, almost like a wound too fresh to be acknowledged.

The moment they reached the briefing room, Levi turned sharply to face the scouts, his eyes flashing. “Half of the Survey Corps—gone,” he hissed, pacing in a tight circle. “Jaegerists. I’d expect a few defectors, maybe. But half of our damn regiment?”

Hange, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s the same with the other regiments. The Garrison, the Military Police... Even Commander Pyxis was watching everything unfold with a strange sense of resignation. Eren didn’t just start a rebellion; he’s practically built an empire from within.”

Mikasa and Armin, standing side by side, exchanged a worried look. Mikasa’s fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles turning white as she tried to make sense of everything. She didn’t want to believe that Eren could do this, could turn on everything they’d once stood for.

“Captain, there must be another way to reach him,” Armin pleaded, his voice soft but insistent. “If we can just talk to him, get him alone and away from… all of them.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Aurora… maybe she’s been influencing him, maybe even manipulating him.”

Levi shook his head, his expression hard and unyielding. “Armin, this isn’t just about who Eren’s listening to. He’s made his choice all on his own. He escaped from his cell, nearly killed the two of you, and he doesn’t give a damn about any of us anymore. His loyalty is to his own twisted version of freedom and to Aurora. Nothing more.”

Jean, who had been quiet up until now, cleared his throat. “Levi’s right, Armin. Look at what he did in Liberio. He didn’t just destroy their military; he purposely leveled civilian homes and slaughtered innocents. And Aurora…” He shook his head, unable to hide the disgust in his voice. “She killed Premier Zachary and walked away without a shred of guilt. They’re both two psychopaths who are too far gone.”

Hange pushed off from the wall, rubbing her temples. “The Premier’s murder… we can’t ignore that, either. I knew Eren could be ruthless, but this…?” Her voice trailed off, laden with sadness and betrayal.

Connie’s face twisted with frustration, the internal conflict evident in his expression. “Eren’s always been willing to go to extreme lengths, sure. But he was our friend. There has to be something worth saving in him.”

Levi’s gaze shifted to Connie, hard and unflinching. “We don’t have the luxury of clinging to that ‘something’ anymore. Eren has his own army now. Hundreds of Jaegerists, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. He’s got Floch, Historia, and even his damned wife rallying people to his side.” He spat the words with a vehemence that underscored his deep resentment. “If we don’t act now, he’ll tear down everything we’ve fought to protect.”

Armin looked down, wrestling with the turmoil brewing inside him. “So… you’re saying we have to kill him?” The weight of the question seemed to crush him as he forced himself to meet Levi’s gaze.

Levi’s face was unreadable as he took a steadying breath. “I don’t want it to come to that, but if that’s what it takes to stop him from slaughtering the world, then yes. We have no choice.” His tone was cold and final. “We feed him to someone we can trust.”

Mikasa’s face turned pale, her eyes widening with shock. “Captain, you can’t… we can’t just kill Eren. He’s not a monster! He’s still our friend! If we just—”

“Mikasa.” Levi’s voice was sharp, cutting through her protests with a tone that demanded attention. “You saw what he did in Liberio, what he almost did to Armin and you when he broke out. This isn’t about friendship anymore. Eren is a threat. A threat to everyone on this island.”

Jean stepped forward, his voice bitter but resolute. “Eren’s only thinking of himself, Mikasa. Whatever he’s doing, it’s not for Paradis or for us, it’s for himself and Aurora. That’s it. If we don’t stop him, he’ll destroy everything we’ve worked to protect.”

Mikasa’s fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to hold back her frustration. She understood what they were saying, could see the truth in their words, but accepting it felt like betrayal. “But he’s still Eren… if we just had more time—”

“We’re out of time,” Levi snapped, his voice colder than ever. “Eren’s not invincible. He won’t have his Jaegerist army around him every second. If I have to cut off his head myself, I will. Then we’ll have someone else take his power, someone who isn’t hell-bent on genocide.”

Armin took a shaky breath, glancing at Mikasa, whose expression was etched with pain. “But who would we give it to?”

Levi’s face darkened, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. “Someone who isn’t planning to tear down the world, that’s all I care about. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, we need to find an opportunity. One slip, one moment, and we take him down. If he wants to be the devil, then we’ll deal with him like one.”

Hange, arms crossed, looked away, her jaw clenched. She’d always believed in Eren’s potential, in his spirit to fight against injustice. But now… she wasn’t sure what remained of the boy she once knew. “Levi… I hate this. But if we don’t act, the blood that’s spilled will be on our hands too.”

Connie and Sasha exchanged troubled glances, the weight of Levi’s words pressing down on them, hardening their resolve. They couldn’t stand by and watch as their friend became something unrecognizable, someone willing to destroy the world for his own vision of freedom.

But in the back of the room, Armin and Mikasa stood in silence, grappling with the reality of what Levi had just proposed. For Mikasa, the idea of harming Eren felt like tearing out a part of herself, a betrayal that went beyond words. Yet the haunted look in her eyes betrayed her growing fear—that they might not have any other choice.

Levi surveyed them all, his gaze steely and unwavering. “We move forward with this plan. We’ll find a way to end this, whatever it takes. Eren’s made his choice. Now we have to make ours.”

…

Meanwhile back at Historia’s farm, Eren stood in the center of the dimly lit room, a mixture of urgency and frustration etched into his expression as he went over plans with Floch and Historia. They were painfully aware that the threat to their mission wasn’t just Marley or the outside world. Levi and the others, the very people he once fought beside, were now just as much a danger. And Levi… Levi was the most formidable threat of all.

“He’s not just another soldier,” Eren said, his voice low and laced with intensity. “Levi’s fought more Titans than anyone. I’ve seen him take down more Titans in minutes than most can manage in their lifetime. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone—if he comes after me, he’ll be a problem, especially if he knows about the War Hammer Titan’s weaknesses.”

Floch nodded grimly. “We can overwhelm him with numbers. If it’s all the Jaegerists against one, he’ll lose eventually. But at what cost?” He hesitated, his face clouding. “He’d take down dozens, maybe hundreds, before we even have a chance to stop him. It’d be bloody, a massacre.”

Historia frowned, her brows knitting together. “We need to think this through. Levi’s not the kind of person we can outsmart with brute force. It’ll require a strategy, something more than just throwing soldiers at him.”

They fell silent, each of them wrestling with the realization that they were preparing to go up against someone who, in a way, had become almost mythical within the ranks. Levi Ackerman wasn’t just another soldier; he was Humanity’s Strongest, an unstoppable force. Eren clenched his fists, his frustration mounting as the weight of the situation sank in.

That’s when Aurora, who had been quietly listening at the edge of the room, took a step forward. All eyes turned to her, surprise flashing across their faces. She’d been listening, calculating, assessing. Now, she spoke, her voice steady and firm.

“I can handle Captain Levi,” she said simply, her gaze unwavering as she looked directly at Eren.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Floch’s jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. Historia’s mouth parted as though she wanted to respond, but words failed her. And Eren… Eren looked as if he’d just heard the most ludicrous, impossible statement.

“Aurora…” Eren’s voice was low, almost a growl. “No. Absolutely not.”

Aurora didn’t back down. Her gaze was fierce, a fire in her eyes that none of them had seen before. “Listen to me, Eren. Levi’s a threat—a direct threat to you and everything we’re trying to accomplish. If we don’t neutralize him, he’ll come for you eventually. I know you don’t want to risk lives… but that’s exactly why I’m offering.”

Floch broke in, his voice laced with incredulity. “Aurora, I don’t mean any disrespect, but… we’re talking about Captain Levi here. Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Do you really think you can—”

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted, her tone fierce and unyielding. “Levi might be stronger and faster than I am, but strength isn’t the only thing that matters. I know what I’m capable of. I’ve spent years under the worst conditions, forced to survive on wit alone. I have a plan. Levi might be the strongest, but he’s not infallible.”

Eren’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his frustration bubbling over. “Aurora, I am not letting you go after him. Levi isn’t someone who’ll hesitate. If he sees you as a threat, he won’t care if you’re pregnant. He’ll kill you.”

Aurora stepped closer to him, her voice softening but remaining resolute. “And I won’t let him take you from me. You’re everything to me, Eren. If I have to do this to keep you safe, then I will.”

Eren’s heart twisted at her words, at the intensity of her conviction. She’d already shown him how far she was willing to go, the lengths she’d go to protect him, but this—this was different. “Aurora… if he even suspects what you’re planning, he’ll strike before you get the chance.”

She placed a hand on his arm, looking up at him with a mix of determination and reassurance. “Trust me, Eren. I have thought this through. I wouldn’t risk it if I didn’t believe I could succeed. Levi’s a soldier, a warrior, but I… I know how to think in ways he might not expect. I can outwit him.”

Floch, still reeling, finally found his voice. “You’re serious about this. You’re really going to go up against Captain Levi?”

She turned her gaze to Floch, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable, a hint of something fierce and dangerous flickering in her eyes. “Yes. If it means protecting Eren and our future, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Historia, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke, her voice laced with a mix of admiration and concern. “Aurora… I understand your loyalty, but this is a tremendous risk. Are you absolutely sure?”

Aurora met Historia’s gaze, nodding. “Yes. I know what I’m doing.”

Eren took a deep breath, his voice tight with emotion. “Aurora, this isn’t just about Levi. This is about you, our baby and the life we’re building. I can’t… I won’t let you throw yourself into danger for my sake.”

Aurora’s expression softened as she reached up, cupping his face gently. “Eren, I made a vow when we married. I chose to be with you, to stand by you no matter the cost. This is my choice, and I’m not backing down.”

Eren’s heart thundered in his chest, torn between the fierce love he felt for her and the instinct to keep her safe at all costs. But he could see it in her eyes, the determination, the unbreakable resolve. She wasn’t asking for permission; she was making a decision.

Finally, he nodded, albeit reluctantly. “If this is what you’re set on… then I trust you. But please, Aurora, don’t take unnecessary risks. I need you safe.”

She smiled, her fingers brushing gently across his cheek. “I promise, Eren. I’ll do what needs to be done, but I won’t risk myself needlessly. I’ll be back for you.”

Floch’s gaze shifted between them, still shaken by what he’d just heard. But beneath his initial shock, there was a flicker of something else—an understanding that Eren and Aurora were more alike than he’d realized. Both were willing to cross unimaginable lines for each other, to do whatever it took to achieve their vision of freedom and protection.

As Aurora pulled away, a sense of calm settled over her, a quiet strength radiating from within. She was ready. Levi might be Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, but she was driven by something deeper, something Levi would never understand.

Eren watched her go, his chest tight with a mix of fear and pride. He knew Aurora was capable, knew she was determined, but he couldn’t shake the gnawing worry that this plan might cost them more than they anticipated.

But if there was one thing he knew, it was that Aurora, his wife, would do everything in her power to protect him, just as he would for her.

~

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[yetisidelblog]

We, the undersigned, urge Congress to oppose the creation of the so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) and the proposed appointments of Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy to this agency.

This new department, introduced by President-elect Donald Trump, is billed as a means to streamline federal operations. But instead, this department is expected to pave the way for widespread deregulation, corporate favoritism, and diminished government accountability.

We believe, these reasons among many, make Musk and Ramaswamy’s DOGE a disaster waiting to happen:

Lack of Public Service Experience: Musk and Ramaswamy are corporate moguls with no background in public service. Government is about serving people, not profit—something neither of these leaders has shown a commitment to.

Conflicts of Interest: Both have significant business ties to industries that benefit from lax regulations. Putting them in charge of efficiency reform risks favoritism toward their interests and big businesses, rather than safeguarding public needs.

Deregulation Disguised as Efficiency: "Efficiency" here could mean removing protections. With Musk and Ramaswamy at the helm, we could see environmental, labor, and consumer protections slashed under the guise of "streamlining."

Privatization of Public Services: DOGE could push to outsource critical government functions to corporations, reducing transparency and accountability to taxpayers, while increasing corporate profits.

Threat to Democracy: Government must be accountable to the people, not corporate elites. This department could erode public trust and prioritize corporate power over democratic values.

Sign now to stand against Elon and Vivek’s appointments and the creation of this thinly veiled attempt of a corporate takeover of our government.

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[two-reflections]

how you feel about your current WIP

Which one, hahahahaaa...

Thanks for asking, it's always good to do a WIP audit. Let's do it as a numbered list. Only going for the multi-chapter stories here. I also have a lot of oneshots in varying states of completion.

Non Warhammer 40k stories are under the Read More.

Carrion's Heir - Technically not a WIP, but not fully uploaded yet. It would have been a better story if I hadn't had to follow a set of prompts, but that was how the challenge I wrote it for worked. Still, I love the main character and his story arc. May come back to it in the future.

Of Steel and Flesh - Started off as a quick series of campaign-inspired drabbles, but became its own thing. I kind of love it and kind of hate it sometimes. Maybe I should have just left it as a bunch of tiny vignettes. I am committed to finishing it, though. Again, I care a lot about the main characters, and I REALLY like the Dark Mechanicum sect in it.

Even in Death - MY BELOVED. MY DARLING. MY SWEET, SELF-INDULGENT DREADNOUGHT-BASED BABY. Putting this one off to finish other projects hurts so bad. I want to write the rest of this ASAP.

[Unnamed Techmarine Story] - This is about my character Bai'keti's 30 years on Mars. It's less about his training and more about what being so far from his brothers and culture is like, the difficulty of adopting a new culture, and his intense friendship with another techmarine in training from the Dragonspears chapter. I'll probably never upload this one because I'm not too familiar with what Mars in 40k is like beyond "Admech and the Void Dragon live here." Plus, it's based on my own time as an International student at a particularly weird British University. It makes me feel nostalgic for the rare good times, and also SO freaking glad I survived my time and am not there any more. Hated my Uni so much. This WIP is also on the back burner at like 12k words, will probably pick it back up in the autumn.

[Unnamed Salamander Story] - The story of Val'ten's first year in the Salamanders' 6th company. Includes a romance between him and his brander priest, but it's mostly about various missions and adventures, how he settles to life as a Salamander brother, and his attempt to grow a little garden in his downtime. This one is my most long-term wh40k project since I came up with Val'ten in 2017 for a completely different (and much worse) fic. His story has been stuck at around 60k words for months because it's on the back burner while I finish other things, but this is the story I think about in the shower, when I'm waiting in a queue, when I'm on the train. It's so important to me.

Other fandoms and Original Work

The Name Within - A leftover from my Kingdom Hearts Days. It's about Isa straightening out his head after everything that happened in KH3, and coming to terms with perhaps never functioning like a normal human after experiencing literal dehumanization at a pivotal age. I've linked it because it's on Ao3, but I wouldn't bother checking it out, it's probably not worth reading unless you really like this one particular dude. It's been missing around two paragraphs to finish for years. I should just bash those out and finish it, but it's hard to find the keen for it now.

Big Name on Campus/The Dream He Was Given - Temporary names for two fanfics based on a very old Sci-Fi manga. One is a weird fix-it-fic, the other is based on the University career of my favourite character, the chronically ill director of a medical center. I know, another university story, but I swear this one's not primarily based on my experience; rather, on watching my parents' students over the years. Decent chance I will never finish these two, there's no English-speaking audience for this comic so they're only for me. I love BNOC, though. The other, I could take or leave.

Twisted Links - Original story. After a series of international incidents and corporate takeovers, HR Agent Marley from the Pan-Martian Corporation ends up as temporary site director for a radio telescope in the Caribbean with secret instructions to ensure the Corp's permanent control of the site. Unbeknownst to Marley, local engineer and anti-colonialism activist Victor is struggling to hide a rogue Pan-Martian AI which caused a major international incident several decades before. Will Victor be able to keep the AI secret, or will Marley find out that there's a second being living inside Victor's head? Whose vision for the future of the telescope will become reality, or will the whole place shut down? The first 20k words of this story secured me a first-class Master's degree, but just as I was gearing up to write the rest, the catastrophic demise of the telescope where I grew up happened. I miss this story and want to go back to it but... Trauma...

[thedivinelights]

Console.WriteLine("A Christmas Carol");

STAVE ONE: CHIEF RECRUITMENT

Ao3

⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯ · ⎯

Scrooge and Marley were together, to begin with. There could be no doubt about that. Their marriage had not been consummated by legality, but had been consummated nonetheless in the eyes of the bankers, the investors, the shareholders, and the chief partnership. Scrooge signed the cohabitation agreements. Marley confirmed the merger of their lives. And in the world of markets and business and consumerism, their word might as well have been law.

Yes, as their employees had muttered and murmured to anyone somehow unaware, the Old Scrooge-Marley duo were, in fact, shagging.

Now, the question as to how the labourers had been privy to such information was as much a mystery to you as it is to me. In a time of outdated legislations and the basic etiquette of privacy, one would think that such intimate details would remain concealed behind closed doors and closed lips, only to be spoken out by those allowed to speak. But upon this Sceptered Isle that I call upon as my one abode, you may permit me to state that I find myself at liberty to both discuss and regale you with such tales. After all, what power could impede a narrative save for whom the narrative is about? If you were unaware of Romeo and Juliet’s affections for one another, would you still remember them as the star-crossed lovers of Verona? And if you were not privy to Scrooge and Marley’s companionship, would their story be as captivating? I think not.

Of course, Scrooge and Marley were well aware of this arrangement. How could they not be? If one had the gall or the balls to ask, they would say it was naught but a matter of convenience, devoid of personal affections or romantic inclinations, though such claims would fall short of convincing anyone. They had been partners in every sense of the word. They were each other’s sole companion, their sole confidant, their sole lover, their sole business associate, their sole tormenter, and — though not in the sense of the law — their sole husband. They clawed their way to the top with cunning, calculative precision, hand over fist, soaked deep in the blood, sweat and tears of the corporate enemies who dared to try and make a fool of them.

Asplex Industries, est. 1980. A multinational technology conglomerate with more billions in their coffers than most nations could only dream of having in their treasuries, fingers dipped in every sort of emerging innovation, from artificial intelligence to biotechnology, from robotics to renewable energy. The purest result of Machiavellian manoeuvres, evasive extorting, and cutthroat competition, built up from the ground up by two men with more ambition than what could possibly be constrained by mortal bounds. Brick by brick. Line of code by line of code. Hostile takeover by hostile takeover. And no, I will not be resorting to flaunting numbers with an arbitrary number of zeroes to impress upon you the sheer magnitude of their clout. Suffice it to say that Scrooge and Marley were perched on top of a gilded tower that scraped the heavens, constructed from the bones of their competitors and built upon the foundations of two simple game developers who wished to find their way in the world.

Oh, but how callous they had been, Scrooge and Marley! The wringing, clasping, twisting, shaving, clenching, esurient old sinners!  Quiet and venomous like a viper, deadly and circling like a shark. No warmth — not even their own, as dim as it were — could temper the coldness that clung to them like a shroud. The media could paint them in the most wondrous and exaggerated colours they pleased, but the truth remained ever starkly evident to those who worked under, worked with, or worked without: Scrooge and Marley were ruthless. They were the kind of leaders who could make the bravest of souls quail and the most stalwart of hearts tremble beneath their heel. The Chief Executive Officers of Asplex that the business world celebrated and scorned in a single breath. The kind of commanders who could squeeze out every ounce of profit, every iota of innovation, every morsel of loyalty, with enough pressure and heat to turn carbon into diamonds.

No self-respecting charity approached them for philanthropic efforts. No innocent child invoked their names. No nefarious politician bribed them for their riches. For there was no charity they supported, no child they cherished and no politician they trusted. 

And they cared not. Not one single bit.

On one particular evening — four days prior to Christmas Day, 2010 — Scrooge and Marley sat comfortably in their office. The weather, as it often was in England, was cold and damp and miserable, with not even a speck of snow to accompany their bleak surroundings. The office they shared, small and unwelcoming, held not a single ounce of the opulence that their wealth could afford. From the fraying curtains to the worn cushions to the scratched mahogany desk, every facet of their workspace retained much of the furniture that could be salvaged from their beginnings. Sentiment? Frugality? None could say. It only made logical sense, however, that they would share a desk instead of having two, for they would have no use for separate stations when their work was so intertwined and interdependent.

Jacob A. T. Marley, the elder of the two, sat with his long fingers steepled beneath his chin, sharp green eyes examining the computer monitor before him. His greying black hair was tied up in a loose, frayed bun, and his tailored, almost impeccable suit hung on his lean frame, his thin lips seeming in a perpetual line, upturned only by necessity. Marley held the numbers in the palm of his hand, for he was the financier who knew every pound, dollar, franc, and euro in the corporate coffers. The charmer who could convince the saintly to buy the Old Scratch’s own pitchfork. The smiler who could turn a conversation on its head with only the truth and leave his interlocutor baffled and speechless. The world called him a serpent in the grass, slithering along the ground and shedding the scales of genuine emotions behind him. But what everyone seemed to forget was the addendum that this serpent had fangs dripping with venom. That this viper could bite, and he could bite hard.

Ebenezer L. P. Scrooge sat beside him, reclining in his worn leather chair with blue eyes half-lidded as he ran a hand through his wild and unruly brown hair, somehow ageing faster than his husband appeared to be. Scrooge was the strategist, the man who could play the market like Martha Argerich played the piano, anticipating every turn and shift of the trends with such precision one would think that he himself had been controlling them. It mattered not if your contracts had been gone over with fine-tooth comb, went through with every nuanced detail down to the thinnest of fine print and reviewed by a legal team more akin to feral, rabid bulldogs in suits. If you sat across Scrooge at the negotiating table and he wanted anything — your assets, your stocks, hell, even your staff — he would tear it all away from you, piece by agonising piece, limb from torturous limb, like a megalodon towering over a school of hapless minnows. To call him a shark would be far too polite, perhaps even a compliment. Scrooge was the tempestuous sea itself, and woe betide the ones who dare try and tame it.

On the other side of the office door, checked in only by a cheap baby camera super-glued onto the counter, they kept a close and vigilant eye upon their secretary, who sat upon his chair with an urgent focus belying his relaxed demeanour. Bob Cratchit, he was called, and his loyalty to Scrooge and Marley had been just as unshakeable as it had been when he had first arrived. Even in the chill of the room that retained the bare minimum of heating, causing him to adorn more layers than he’d needed outdoors, Bob remained ever diligent. For he had maintained their public image, their social media presence, their events and their correspondences with partnering companies.

“Merry Christmas, Tito Ben! Tito Jake!” A cheerful voice cried out. The voice of Scrooge and Marley’s nephew, Frederick Villanueva, burst into the office with such joviality — eyes sparkling, cheeks rosy, dressing in a garish red sweater and topped with reindeer antlers — that you’d think him as Saint Nicholas himself.

“Bob…” Marley warned, completely ignoring his nephew’s cheerful greetings to glare at the man who was supposed to keep him away, only to receive halfhearted apologies and the familiar shrug that said he had ‘tried’ to keep him away, as if he had even tried at all!

“Damn it all, Fred, can’t you see we’re busy?!” Scrooge snarled, his train of thought momentarily shattered by the buffoon who waltzed in without knocking.

“Oh c’mon, Tito Ben. It’s almost Christmas!” Fred exclaimed. “Work can wait until after the New Year, can’t it?”

“Almost Christmas means it isn’t Christmas.” Marley retorted monotonously. “And in case you haven’t noticed, we’re not the only ones working, nor are we your personal charity. And unlike some of us, we have money to count and responsibilities to uphold.”

Fred, clearly not satisfied with that response, moved in closer to their desk, resting his hands atop the wood and shuffling Scrooge’s carefully-laid paperwork, his chagrin clear to all as he glared daggers so pointed his nephew might as well have been murdered just by sight alone.

“Why do you two have to be so stubborn?” Fred returned gaily, a glint forming in his eyes. “You’re both the richest men in the world! Forgoing a few million pounds is worth it for celebrating Christmas dinner with Mum, Nanay, and I, don’t you think?”

Scrooge and Marley exchanged a meaningful glance for but a moment, a silent communication that only they could decipher. They knew their answer, and they knew their answer well.

“What we think, dear nephew…” Scrooge slowly stood from his seat, his taller frame looming over the young man’s petite stature. “...is that Christmas is nothing but a time of blatant consumerism. A time when people wastefully spend on frivolous ‘gifts’ that most would forget about in mere weeks. A time when they indulge in gluttony and sloth to drown away the sorrows of their sad, sordid little lives. And when the clock strikes twelve on the twenty-sixth, what do people do? Goodwill toward men, more like good riddance to genuine morality and hard work.”

“You can’t be serious!” Fred cried out in exclamatory and exaggerated surprise.

“There’s no denying the truth of Scrooge’s words.” Marley continued for him with a sterner tone, just as steadfast in their decision as they had countless years before. “It’s a hypocritical holiday that picks one’s pockets every twenty-fifth of December, Fred, and we simply want no part of it. Send your mothers our regards, but don’t expect us to bend over backwards to cater to their whims.”

Fred, unfazed by their coldness, simply chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, alright… Tito Ben, Tito Jake, you’re impossible. But you know what? I still love you guys, even if you probably don't want me to admit it. So, I’m going to keep coming back, year after year, Christmas after Christmas, to invite you. And someday, somewhere, I hope you’ll join us, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“Goodbye, nephew.” Scrooge said.

“And who knows? While you’re at it, you’ll both truly understand just what you are missing.”

“Goodbye, Fred.” Marley said.

“I’m sorry you can’t see past your numbers and your profits, but I promise that, when I make a name for myself — as loud and as proud as your own — then I shall invite you over for the greatest Christmas bash the world has ever seen! Maligayang Pasko, Tito Ben, Tito Jake!”

“Good. Bye.”

“At Isang Manigong Bagong Taon!”

“Security!”

Before the broad men with scowling faces and state-of-the-art equipment could even dare to snag him, Fred had already spun on his heel and made his grand exit with a dashing flourish and a dashing swiftness, stopping only to bestow a hearty ‘Merry Christmas!’ to the grateful secretary, who returned them just as heartily.

“Honestly, does that boy have anything better to do than to pester us?” Scrooge grumbled as he scooped up a handful of his papers, his mood soured both by the visitations of his sister’s son and the wishing of tidings he overheard. “Seventeen going on eighteen and still doing nothing with his life.”

Marley scoffed, sharing the sentiment. “Well, we can’t exactly blame him for his upbringing. It was Fan after all who brought him into the world.”

“You watch your mouth, Marley.” Scrooge shot a warning look to his partner of nigh-on three decades, and friend of even longer, his hands stilling for a moment. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“As if that makes a difference. You haven’t talked to her in years.” Marley waved a hand dismissively. “Fan’s had a bleeding heart since she was a little lady, and now she’s passing that onto her drifter of a son. All idealistic dreams and no purchase on the harsh reality that awaits him. If there’s one thing Aurora and I agree upon, it’s that Fred needs to pull his head out of his arse.”

Neither of them spoke a word of the matter after the fact, content to remain in their cold, unwelcoming bubble in their dingy office, fearing not the slightest bit of a changed nature to their familiar surroundings. They were habitual beings, they supposed. Always retaining a routine. Always seeking a schedule. That was the way in which they operated. Two halves of a whole. Two peas in a pod. A pair unlike any other.

They didn't spare a second glance towards Bob when he stood at the door frame and waited for one of them — usually Marley, sometimes Scrooge — to bid him enter. He walked with a hesitant stride, like a little boy who had been called over by his parents with his full name spoken in distaste.

“Mr. Scrooge. Mr. Marley. I received a call from Save the Children International.” Bob toyed with the volume buttons on his tablet, shifting the white sound bar back and forth. “They’re, uh… waiting on a response for the substantial charity donations that were discussed last week.”

Scrooge sighed. “What were these donations for again?”

“It was for the winter relief program, sir. The one to help provide warm clothing, food and shelter for underprivileged and impoverished children here in England.”

“The parents can claim Child Benefit, can they not?” Marley asked.

“I’d suppose so, but some—”

“And free school meals? Eligibility for a child’s bursary?”

“Hardly something to—”

“What about the Public Health insurance?”

“Mr. Marley, that’s not—”

“Cratchit, my good man, if these benefits are all in effect still, why should we be the ones to offer handouts to nameless children with parents of their own? Parents who should, in their duty as parents, stop living off of the government’s capital and get a real career.” Marley looked up from the monitor, a glimmer of annoyance in his eyes. “It is not as though it were I or Scrooge who sired them.”

Bob withered under the scrutiny and the cruelty, slouching downwards as he spoke with nary a whisper. “But… But think of the—”

“I believe Mr. Marley and I have made our stance on the matter rather clear to you, Cratchit.” Scrooge slammed his hand forcefully onto the desk. “No. Means. No. Tell those plebs to go and find someone else to bother. Or, better yet, not bother at all.”

Under the hard and icy glare of Scrooge, Bob relented in his persistence, dreading the moment when he would have to inform the hopeful and committed volunteers of the fund of the disheartening news, fully ready to receive the brunt of the disaster in all of its glory. He turned back towards the door and his small space in front of their office when Scrooge called to him to stay in his ever-commanding tone.

“I’m guessing you and the rest of our sorry lot want Christmas and New Year’s off, eh?”

“If… If that's convenient, sir.”

“Ha! Convenient?!” Scrooge laughed bitterly, the sound a cacophonous noise to anyone who hadn't been him or his husband. “Convenient hardly even begins to describe it.”

“Productivity isn’t exactly optimal during the festive season, Mr. Scrooge.” Bob returned cordially.

“But still far more productive than no production.” Scrooge added with a wry smile, before slumping in his seat. “...Bloody hell. Take your goddamn holidays off tomorrow. But we expect you all to be refreshed and ready when the second of January rolls around. No laziness. No slacking off.”

Bob smiled happily, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he bounded up and down slightly, before remembering that a professional setting had still been established, and he bowed in thanks, and bowed once more, before running out to tell the other employees the good tidings. It would not be until a few hours later — as the toll of the clocks and the ringing of phones so aptly deigned to make themselves known to the people — that Bob, in his jubilant nature, bid his employers farewell, donned a tightly-covered jacket, cashmere and wool all threaded and frayed, and rushed to the grand elevator, squeezing in with all the others bound downwards like sardines in a tin can, rushing through the streets of Canary Wharf with great haste and even greater sense of relief.

Upon the departure of their faithful secretary, Scrooge and Marley agreed to follow suit. They shut down the computer with a bitter roughness, sorted out their cumbersome paperwork with the enthusiasm of a sleeping sloth, and closed up with all the mechanical efficiency of a well-oiled machine.

Sometimes they took the train. Oftentimes Marley drove them back in his old Vauxhall Velox. But they had gone together every single time. Pedestrians and strangers who knew none of the true extent of their reach still gave them a wide berth as if they were infected by a miserable little contagion they feared would infect them as well and ruin their joyous celebrations. It was an odd thing for them, ending so early on a Tuesday when there was still much left to be done, but as Marley often reminded Scrooge, they were the bosses. They could do whatever they damn well pleased. And if they pleased to have an early dismissal, then so be it. Scrooge would complain. Marley would not. 

The night had been just as cold and just as miserable as it had been but a few hours prior, perhaps even more so than it had been in the presence of the two who shared its disposition. The Wharf itself, a forest of steel and glass that comprised the financial district of London, was as bustling as it had always been, with suits and ties and dresses flitting around like skittish rodents, suitcases and bags clutched to their chests like holy relics, and the discordant sound of motorists and engines whizzing past in haste or stalling with a low purr. Pollution covered the sky in a thick, grey, smoggy blanket, blotting out the stars and the moon like an impenetrable wall of burnt oils and coals barring the Earth from the firmament in which it hung. Caliginous, and much colder. Biting, unforgiving cold, just how they liked it.

They had their quiet dinner in their usual quiet restaurant, a small place with just as much disdain for the holidays as they retained, sipping on hard liquor and nibbling on food in silence. Neither of them uttered a word about the day’s events — not even a whisper about the charity or the nephew — and spoke no more than necessary when paying the bill without so much as a tip for the waitstaff who had their wages to survive, and not much was to be expected by the two patrons who kept to themselves in the furthermost corner of the establishment.

Marley drove home in silence, Scrooge looked out the window with an absentminded gaze as he watched the world go by in a blur of lights and movement and activity. Conversation was short and succinct, never deviating from anything unnecessary. Would they need to go grocery shopping, or did they have enough in their terribly-stocked fridge? Scrooge would have to check. Did they need to review the reports for the latest subsidiaries, or could that wait until the year turned? Marley would decide that. They discussed the evening news playing like the murky sounds of the fifties in the background, heard but not truly listened to, discussing the scandals and legislations between competitors and politicians and looking to see if Asplex was affected in any way. They were not, thankfully, as the news had been as dull and boring as it had always been.

In the muted county of Essex, their home remained, ever as it had been since they bought it in years uncountable. It was a semi-detached house only a few minutes away from the school in which they had both attended. A building so vastly different from its merry companions with their garlands and their lights, you would think that it would have been plucked out from some distant faraway land in a distant faraway time, aged not with grace but with disuse. 

Now, let it be known that there was hardly anything particularly remarkable about the door of their house, nor the doorbell in which accompanied it, except that it was large and sturdy, built to withstand both the elements and the unwanted attention. You may also be interested to know that the fence that surrounded the front yard was so imposing and towering that it could deter even the most determined of carolers and most desperate of beggars from approaching. Finally, let it be known that Scrooge and Marley’s security system, as could be expected from men as high-profile as themselves, was the sort that could be exaggerated as the rival of Fort Knox or the vaults of the Bank of England. And then, after learning all of what has been known, explain to me, if you can, how in the deepest pits of hell that a wreath — a single, lone, sentimental, boring, old wreath — was found perched upon the front door of their house, hung with a pitiable attempt at Christmas cheer.

A wreath, of all things! They might as well have had a bright neon sign slapped across their front door, boldly screaming that they celebrated the infernal holiday! What an affront to their sensibilities, an invasion of their sanctuary, a mockery of their stoic resolve! Scrooge and Marley scowled at the sight, as if the mere presence of this festive decoration was a personal provocation to their very existence.

“Who in the hell…?” Scrooge snatched the ring of greenery off of the door, slender fingers gripping it as if were a vile and infectious object.

“Someone with a death wish, it seems.” Marley remarked, his ears attuned to the sound of high-pitched giggling, followed promptly by loud and distressed shushing when his gaze turned to the alley in which the noise originated, only to catch the briefest glimpse of worn shoes and tattered coats disappearing around the corner. 

Good. It appeared the brats knew their place well enough. 

“Fucking children…” Scrooge gave the wreath one last contemptuous look before tossing it aside, not caring where it landed as long as it was out of sight. “Let's not waste any more time on this nonsense.”

Barring the disruption upon the front with the atrocious festivity, the house had been much the same in its sterility indoors. From the moment they stepped inside, a flight of stairs greeted them on their right, a shoe rack — wooden and gnarled from pests they had long since forgotten — standing resolute beside it, yet barely used as Marley kicked his loafers off with the enthusiasm of a parched man trudging through a blazing desert in July, and Scrooge kept his oxfords on the rug beneath the coat rack in a pile of pairs lining the wooden floor like breadcrumbs left behind for Hansel and Gretel.

Marley checked, double-checked, triple-checked the locks placed upon the door, the cold and stiff handle stubborn against his movements before relenting with a loud click and shift of the lock. Scrooge, meanwhile, had dipped into the kitchen on the left, clearing out the rusted steel and antique cookware that filled the basin before their leave in the morning. 

“Where are the toothpicks?” Scrooge asked with a grumble as he rummaged through the cupboards, hoping to find the elusive nicotine fix to settle the itch of his vices.

“Third drawer, by the sink.” Marley drawled as he made his way to the living room, catching a brief glimpse of the triumphant smirk on Scrooge’s face as he popped the toothpick into his mouth. “You should really quit those things, Ebenezer.”

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “You and your neverending health crusade. You sound like a broken record, Jacob.”

“Is it really a crime for me to worry about my partner’s health?” Marley raised an eyebrow as Scrooge made his way over to him, the latter’s taller form allowing him to ruffle the former’s hair with ease.

“Only when you make a habit of it.” Scrooge quipped.

Soon after, in the comfort of their living room, Scrooge had brought out a bottle of Scotch. An aged one, a twenty-five-year-old Macallan. Aged Scotch, a source of great indulgence and insatiable temptation, the elixir of life itself as the two had often considered it to be. They had no reason to celebrate, and they hadn’t needed any. There had been no grand occasion to warrant its opening, nor any justification to drink a bottle of Scotch that could fetch a fair sum on the market. But perhaps it had been the alcohol that made it so tempting, a mere cherry atop a most delightful cake that would sweeten the taste of reality they had so despised. They had shared a glass, and then another, and then another. They sat upon their antique leather sofa — brown and worn from years of use, but comfortable nonetheless — in contemplative silence, staring into the fire with a great sense of detachment from the world beyond their door.

Scrooge took the remote, then, jabbing at the power button a few times before the television in front of them finally lit up. Flicking through the channels with all the enthusiasm of a boy who had been forced into a lecture on the history of theoretical physics by Sheldon Cooper.

“Just because I cannot see it, doesn’t mean I can’t believe—”

“Will you please tell Santa that instead of presents this year, I just want my family—”

“It’s not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love—”

“Bah!” Scrooge snarled, tossing the remote onto the coffee table, refusing to retrieve it even as it slid off like a skater upon thin ice. “I swear, they start with this shit earlier and earlier each year.”

Marley chuckled, taking a long sip of his Scotch. “You’re just a ray of sunshine today, aren’t you, dear?”

“Only if you find the sun’s rays as toxic as I do.” Scrooge grumbled, taking a swift swig of his Scotch before Marley refilled it once more.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, the background noise of Sky News revealing media revelations they cared little for. Marley felt the buzz of his phone tucked comfortably in his trouser pocket, the soft vibration against his leg breaking him out of his trance. He withdrew the device and glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing at the urgent message displayed upon it.

To: jacob.marley@gmail.com Subject: C-Suite Executive Replacements Dear Mr. Jacob Marley, Per our previous discussions in the meeting last month and the immediate termination of our COO, CMO and CTO, I am pleased to inform you that the new appointments for these positions have been selected. They have been considered with careful consideration for their aptitude, experience, and potential compatibility with Asplex Industries. As requested, over the next three days, both yourself and Mr. Scrooge will be speaking to each of them individually to discuss their roles and responsibilities as well as to assess their suitability for these key positions.  Please find below the schedule for the introductory meetings: Chief Operating Officer: December 22nd, 10:00 AM Chief Marketing Officer: December 23rd, 10:00 AM Chief Technology Officer: December 24th, 10:00 AM Attached is documentation and background information regarding each candidate. We do hope you will take them into consideration. Regards, Tristan Grantham Chief Human Resources Officer Asplex Industries

Marley sighed, setting the phone aside for the moment as he reached for his glass which had been half-empty for quite some time. “Looks like we’ll be busy. The new executives are set to join us over the next few days for introductory meetings.”

“Couldn’t we observe them all at once and make a quick decision?” Scrooge muttered, the effects of the Scotch evident in his slurred words and flushed cheeks and gentle sway in his seat.

His husband, who had always been the more tolerant of the vices, shook his head. “And risk having all of our other responsibilities pile up when we entertain these newcomers? We could be inviting in serial killers for all we know.”

“Better to be disrupted than to be inefficient.”

“And better to be inefficient than to be careless.” Marley poured out more of the amber liquid into their glasses with one hand, sending a brief yet swift message with his other. “I requested our schedules to be completely cleared so we could focus on these appointments. We’ll do it one at a time, Ben; it’s more thorough that way.”

“Fine, then.” Scrooge relented, more amicable now than he had been in his mildly intoxicated state. “Hopefully they’ll be far more competent than the previous lot.”

The sentiment had been shared between them, and a valid one it had been. They’d made the mistake of being too lax when it came to the appointment of their previous executives, opting instead to pass the matters of recruitment to an external firm who promised the best candidates. An external firm that, thanks to ruthless efforts and the wondrous world of extortion, coercion and intimidation, had mysteriously vanished from the market. Scrooge and Marley had been more than happy to take the incompetence of their C-suite executives to the media, hiding those sadistic smirks as the BBC gobbled up the folder that just happened to cross their desks one morning. It had been almost too easy to make their previous COO, CMO, and CTO the sacrificial lambs to the corporate wolves, firing them with all the grace and sympathy of a ravening pack of piranhas, but who would miss them? Scrooge and Marley certainly wouldn’t.

Thoroughly inebriated in this rare fine indulgence and bottle completely emptied of its contents, Scrooge and Marley clamoured their way up the steps, shedding their attires and letting them fall to the ground in a careless heap haphazardly formed on their bedroom floor, not bothering to freshen up until the morning. Scrooge still held enough sobriety to take on the nightly duties of checking each room to see if all was as it should. There were no monsters under the bed, or hiding in the closet, or wearing invisible cloaks in the corner of the room.

And when he returned to the bedroom, Marley had already begun to undress, tie and suit tossed onto a chair somewhere, trousers pooling at his feet and dress-shirt loose against his frame. He reacted not when Scrooge joined him in his ritual, mimicking his movements with a practised position. And in their shared silence, when Scrooge had at last relieved himself of his shirt, Marley came up from behind him, movements gentle and languid as he leaned in against his husband, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

His protests, if there were any to remain, fell on deaf ears as Marley hushed him with a quick press of his finger to his lips, neither of them fully understanding how they managed to land themselves onto the bed with the blur of movements they would never fully remember in the morning. And when — perhaps in the way in which their lips pressed together in a passionate embrace, or the way they tangled themselves under thin sheets, or the way they whispered each other’s names with fervour, or the way they wrestled control from each other in such a way that Heracles himself would baulk at — they disappeared into the night's embrace, they did so with the knowledge that no one else in the world would ever know them as intimately as they knew each other.

Tagged: @rom-e-o @crimson-phantom-designs @quill-pen @a-christmas-carol-from-hr @ray-painter

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Jay-Z - The Blueprint

Nobody in their right mind would disagree that this is Jay-Z's best album. Hova is at his peak in terms of rhyme schemes, flow, and confidence. But he's got one more thing in his back pocket that blasts The Blueprint into the stratosphere and that's amazing beats. The production team features a few names that you don't recognize: Bink, Just Blaze, Taskmasters. But Kanye fucking West brings the heat on Takeover, Heart Of The City, and Izzo (H.O.V.A.) and it's the latter of the three that wound up being the lead single and one of Jay-Z's biggest hits. The way that these beats seem to challenge Jay-Z to get even more creative with his rhymes and lyrics is apparent when you hear how he wraps verses around the Jackson 5 sample in Izzo. The Blueprint is one of the best hip hop albums of all time and honestly I think it really does belong in the top 50.

OutKast - Aquemini

The funkiest OutKast album and the one that took them to the top of the charts. The massive hit Rosa Parks shows off all the group's strengths. Andre 3000's complex rhyme schemes contrast with Big Boi's straightforward lyricism tied together with a funky hook and more than a little bit of country influence. The whole album is like that, but Rosa Parks is an exemplary song if you wanna hear what the peak of dirty south hip hop is like.

Bob Marley And The Wailers - Legend

Holy shit c'mon you already had Exodus on this list are you really gonna say that a greatest hits is better than that? Hell half of Exodus is on this fucking comp. I'm gonna start biting soon I swear to god.

Ramones - s/t

This album more than any other wound up being the blueprint for the US punk rock scene. Short, fast and stupid these songs are the perfect teenage rebellion. There is more vibe than meaning and Joey Ramone's vocals are bare comprehensible most of the time anyway. It captures the raw punk rock spirit of aimless rebellion against a world that is alienating.

Paul Simon - Graceland

Graceland may be a Paul Simon album, but it is anything but a solo effort. Every song on the album features significant contributions from a monstrous cast of both South African and American artists. Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes and Homeless heavily feature isicathamiya group Ladysmith Black Mambazo and band leader Joseph Shabalala shares writing credit on both. Bakithi Kumalo's fretless bass permeates the entirety of Graceland and lends a unique cohesive sound to the musically diverse album. The title track is a peak example of South African and American fusion, Simon seeking to make an mbaqanga track, got guitarist Ray Phiri. Phiri was inspired to emulate American folk and country based on the Graceland theme and the result is something that sits perfectly in between, not quite an American folk song and not quite a South African mbaqanga song. There are a diverse cast of non South African musicians here too, Senegalese pop star Youssou N'Dour makes an appearance and American acts The Everly Brothers, Linda Ronstadt, and Los Lobos get to hang. Graceland is an incredibly unique mix of styles, ridiculously catchy, unrelentingly beautiful. It is one of my favorite albums of all time. I listen to it on a monthly basis probably.

Prince - Sign O' The Times

I don't get why Prince isn't considered a queer icon. He changed his name to a symbol that was a mix of male and female gender symbols, his own lesbian band mates called him a "fancy lesbian", he cancelled an entire album because he was scared that his female alter ego was trying to escape and take over his life. Sign O' The Times has a song called If I Was Your Girlfriend. This is such a queer album. It's also funky and super fun and horny as shit. Prince is great.

Nas - Illmatic

East coast hip hop peaked with Illmatic. Nas engages in the tightest internal and multisyllabic rhymes without ever sacrificing clarity of purpose. The beats are sparse and reflect the stark subject matter. There's no bragging, it's actually much more pessimistic than that "Life's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high, cause you never know when your gonna go" "I never sleep cause sleep is the cousin of death". The lyrics speak of a difficult life with no room for braggadocia. Not only is Illmatic gunning for GOAT of GOATs status, but it is also one of the most destructively influencial albums in musical history. Until Illmatic the most successful hip hop albums were the work of single dedicated producers, but Illmatic features a large production crew. The producers on Illmatic all work well together and there was a concentrated effort to keep the album cohesive, but all imitators saw was a laundry list of famous names and from them on hip hop production teams became bigger and bigger. So every time you hear a completely disjointed album where all the tracks sound like they belong on a different album you can thank Illmatic. Oops.

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

Hip Hop and jazz are obviously highly linked genres, and a lot of hip hop artists use jazz samples, but only A Tribe Called Quest would get legendary jazz bassist Ron Carter as a feature. The interplay between rappers Q-Tip and Phife Dawg is pretty much the basis of A Tribe Called Quest's sound and they are at their tightest here trading verses casually and playing point with incredible skill. The production is probably the most meticulous since I reviewed Aja. Every sample has been scrubbed clean until there is no surface noise and the balance of melodic bass lines and punchy drums is unparalleled among hip hop records. The Low End Theory sounds perfectly clean and crisp, every element completely essential and placed perfectly where it belongs. It's an incredibly precise album and the production matches the tight and precise rapping.

Radiohead - OK Computer

Their sophomore record, The Bends, may have been an exquisite piece of alt rock but OK Computer is when Radiohead really started to flex their creativity. Stepping slightly outside of rock they experiment with some electronic sounds while still keeping the songs mostly fairly catchy. No one song is completely experimental or completely mainstream alternative. There's a balance here that is very delicate. Admittedly I think that the completely, unabashedly experimental Kid A is their best work, but there is something to be said for a good catchy hook too.

The Rolling Stones - Let It Bleed

This is the best Stones album by a narrow margin. From the psychedelic anxiety attack of Gimme Shelter to the country rock of You Got The Silver to the heavy blues of Midnight Rambler this has the best variety of any Stones album. Keith Richard's blues guitar solos are the best they will ever get and Mick Jagger really stretches out his vocal chords on the aggressive Monkey Man and the deranged serial killer energy of Midnight Rambler.

[whatilistenedtoatwork]

From September 10th to September 13th, 2024

10-09-2024

MOJAVE 3 “Puzzles Like You”; 'WEIRD AL' YANKOVIC “'Weird Al' Live”; THE CHIEFTAINS “The Chieftains 3”; ALY BAIN & PHIL CUNNINGHAM “Portrait”; THE MINUTEMEN “3-Way Tie (For Last Place)”; VARIOUS ARTISTS “Help – A Day In The Life”; THE MELVINS “Hostile Ambient Takeover”; CULTURE “Two Sevens Clash”; ARCHITECTURE IN HELSINKI “Fingers Crossed”; MONTY PYTHON “Monty Python's Contractual Obligation Album”; DIANA ROSS & THE SUPREMES “Let The Sunshine In”; PIXIES “Doolittle”; AMERICAN ANALOG SET “From Our Living Room To Yours”; MICHELLE SHOCKED “Captain Swing”

11-09-2024

SCREAMING TREES “Clairvoyance”; JESUS LIZARD “Liar”; THE COMMUNARDS “The Communards”; MOTORHEAD “Overkill”; FANNY “Charity Ball”; THE RAMONES “The Ramones”; THE BATTLEFIELD BAND “Celtic Hotel”; KEB' MO' “Just Like You”; DONNY HATHAWAY “Donny Hathaway”; JULIANA HATFIELD THREE “Become What You Are”; ARROGANT SONS OF BITCHES “Three Cheers or Disappointment”

12-09-2024

AFRO CELT SOUND SYSTEM “Volume One: Sound Magic”; SCREAMING TREES “Buzz Factory”; BLACK FLAG “Family Man”; ICE CUBE “Laugh Now, Cry Later”; FUGAZI “End Hits”; VARIOUS ARTISTS “Dr. Demento's Basement Tapes #13”; TRASH CAN SINATRAS “Cake”; BOB MARLEY & THE WAILERS “Exodus”; DR. JOHN “City Lights”; ABBA “Voulez-Vous”; THE WONDER STUFF “Oh No, It's... The Wonder Stuff”; VERUCA SALT “American Thighs”; FANNY “Fanny Hill”; MEAT PUPPETS “Meat Puppets II”; SPOON “Gimme Fiction”

13-09-2024

THE NATIONAL “Boxer”; ARCTIC MONKEYS “Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not”; WIPERS “Land Of The Lost”; THEY MIGHT BE GIANTS “They Might Be Giants”; FREESTYLERS “FSUK2”; VARIOUS ARTISTS “Kill Bill Vol. 2 Original Soundtrack”; JESUS LIZARD “Goat”

[whatsonmedia]

Thursday Thrill: Events This Week!

Experience the ultimate music takeover from March 8th to 11th at Jungle Weekender in Amsterdam. With top DJs like Randall and Micky Finn, non-stop dancing, and boat parties, this event is a must for music lovers. Don't miss out! Jungle Weekender 8 -11 Mar 24 Four of the biggest promoters from the jungle and reggae music industry are hosting one of the largest weekend parties. Amsterdam’s Jungle Weekender is the one for music lovers of drum and bass, reggae, jungle, and dub tunes. Taking place at Club Panama, expect boat parties, non-stop dancing, and soaking up the unique Netherlands culture. Bringing together a mammoth 1000-strong crowd of like-minded ravers to have the time of their lives. Flying in from across all corners of the globe, the Jungle Weekender Amsterdam takeover is one top event not to be missed on the festival calendar for 2024. Hosting the elite of jungle royalty DJs & MCs including Randall, Micky Finn, Mc Gq, General Levy, Top Cat, Ragga Twins, Shabba, Mungos Hi-Fi, Mungos Hi-Fi The whole weekend has been well planned out from start to finish beginning with a greet & meet on day one and by the time the last event on takes place on Sunday evening this will evidentially be one of the best clubbing weekends of your life in the dam. Tickets & More Info Elrow Sofia  9 March Photographer: www.lukedyson.com heading back to Sofia this weekend for one of the biggest clubbing brands, Elrow. The magnificent city of Barcelona's most famous dance music brand heads to Bulgaria this month to host one of their standout parties. Festival goers who support the brand already know that Elrow spares no expense of their stage productions. There is no event quite like this super clubbing brand. It's where its party-goers are encouraged to get their best festival dress up for each of their themed global events. It's a festival where the magic always happens!  This year's event takes on the theme of the 'Enchanted Forest' taking festival-goers into another dimension where reality turns into fantasy and nature bursts into life. Proper Wonka Style! Expect everything out of the ordinary. You'll be surrounded by plants and animals of all shapes and sizes. Where everything will come to life, everything will speak to you. Roaming packs of unicorns and raindrops of many colours await you. Dancing with glittering butterflies, playing with tiny elves and pixies, walking amongst ancient, talkative trees and super happy trippy mushrooms. This year's incredible global headline DJ line-up features Claptone, Cloonee, Marc Maya, Toni Varga, Pavel Petrov B2B Peppou, and more Tickets & More Info WOMADelaide 2024 8 - 11 Mar WOMADelaide is an iconic open-air festival set in the heart of Adelaide’s stunning Botanic Park and an award-winning celebration of the very best of the world of music, arts, and dance. The iconic multicultural music festival sets based in a simply stunning location and traditional lands of the Kaurna People. The open-air cultural festival is a wonderful weekend away festival that hosts an array of global music artists and festival nostalgia. Known for a very chilled-out vibe this year's impressive line—up includes Corinne Bailey Rae, Slowmango, Ziggy Marley, CC:Disco, A.Girl, Born In A Taxi, Arooj Aftab, Dean Brady, Elle Shimada, Norcheeba, MC Yallah & Debmaster, TIO, Baaba Maal, Jose Gonzalez and more. Expect a friendly crowd, great music, dancing under the stars, a choice of delicious food from local food vendors, overflowing drinks, and the most magical weekend of new memories. Tickets & More Info Read the full article

[lakelandg]

Bob Marley: One Love – Movie Review

By Bob Garver             It was a good idea for “Bob Marley: One Love” to open on Valentine’s Day. Not just because there hadn’t been a decent box office performer in weeks (and even “Mean Girls and “The Beekeeper” were only mild hits) and the market was ripe for a takeover. Not just because the holiday weekend needed a blockbuster and “Madame Web” wasn’t up to the task. But because the movie…

[lehighacresgazette]

Bob Marley: One Love – Movie Review

By Bob Garver             It was a good idea for “Bob Marley: One Love” to open on Valentine’s Day. Not just because there hadn’t been a decent box office performer in weeks (and even “Mean Girls and “The Beekeeper” were only mild hits) and the market was ripe for a takeover. Not just because the holiday weekend needed a blockbuster and “Madame Web” wasn’t up to the task. But because the movie…

[djlyer]

Birthday Shoooooow with Devon Dare, August 1, 2023

The talented and lovely Devon Dare joined me in studio where we talked about getting into DJing, Subconscious productions, and summer festivals Emotion and Bring Your Love!  You can still find tickets and catch Devon at the Subconscious Takeover on the Mushroom stage Friday, August 18th! (they’ll be doing it right after my set:)

Ben Bohmer, Nils Hoffman & Malou - Single - Breathing (Boris Brejcha Remix)

Frameworks - Single - Circles

Grayscayle - Single - SMG

Iniko - Single - Jericho (bongsquad remix)

The Tragically Hip -  Music @ Work - Toronto #4  

Bob Marley (Sinead O’Connor cover) - SNL 1992 - War

Stixx- Cosmic Ribbits - Quantum Leaps

Chris Komus (ft Devon Dare) - Emerald Stranger

Clozee - Neon Jungle -- Winter is Coming

[izatrini]

Tuff Gong Takeover Feat. Skip Marley and Friends on July 9 at ... - Jamaicans.com http://dlvr.it/Sq1l9S

[yetisidelblog]

Unelected bureaucrat Elon Musk and his pack of internet-addicted 20-somethings have seized control of the computer systems that process trillions of dollars of payments and the private information of EVERY SINGLE AMERICAN, and now they're attempting to unilaterally shut down the United States Agency of International Development — a government agency created by Congress that can only be disbanded by Congress.

Enough is enough. Elon Musk and his toadies have gone too far, and it's time Trump kicked the entire lot of them out of the government and let Congress do their job.

Kick Elon Musk and his DOGE cronies out of the government!

This is a constitutional crisis in the making. No one elected Elon Musk to do anything. He's not been confirmed by the Senate to do anything, and he has zero authority to unilaterally stop federal government payments. He is not a government employee. He is just a private citizen who gave the President $100 million in campaign funds.

Congress must take action NOW to reassert its authority and stop this illegal, authoritarian coup by a foreign billionaire.

Stop Elon Musk's illegal takeover of the government!

@upontheshelfreviews

@greenwingspino

@one-time-i-dreamt

@tenaflyviper

@akron-squirrel

@ifihadaworldofmyown

@justice-for-jacob-marley

@voicetalentbrendan

@thebigdeepcheatsy

@what-is-my-aesthetic

@ravenlynclemens

@thegreatallie

@writerofweird

@anon-lephant

@mentally-quiet-spycrab

@bogleech

@therealjacksepticeye

[chip-foster]

@vidiathread

“Hey,” Marley greeted the man softly as she moved to hook her arm around his. “Did you get something to eat?”

[surya-mirga]

“See what ring? I really don’t know what you’re talking about...”

[gkingmusik]

Download DJ Marley - Street TakeOver Mixtape

Download DJ Marley – Street TakeOver Mixtape

Dj Marley in Collaboration with Gkingmusik delivers an amazing Mixtape to us all titled Street Takeover. DJ Marley – Street TakeOver Mixtape Am sure you will enjoy this mixtape. DOWNLOAD MIXTAPE  

[axoxtxhxh]

It’s almost that time!

In collaboration with @millenialfanfictionaddiction​, I am bringing you a little description of the stories I will be writing for Please Me Attack on Titan. We are less than two weeks away from the release!

Brat Tamer

Playful Porco

You don’t get along that well with Porco Galliard. It’s a mutual dislike you both have for one another, but that doesn’t stop either of you from wanting each other.

Femdom Takeover

Armin’s Ardor

You and Armin have gotten along really well ever since you joined the scouts (which was a bit later than others). Immediately, you found yourself becoming close friends, but it always left you wanting a little more. So when you’re given the opportunity to take things a little further, you aren’t sure you will be able to resist it.

Wild Nights

Miche’s Match

Miche’s having a bad night and after running into a friend in a bar, he’s offered a night that will cheer him up. Reluctantly agreeing, Miche comes face-to-face with his match, but is his match ready for him?

Forbidden Love

Eren’s Eden

You’re working in a Marley hospital as a nurse and a new patient comes in with a name you will never forget. What happens when you reveal who you are to the patient?

Lusty Liaisons

Exploring Erwin

You and Erwin have been together for a while and when he doesn’t show up for dinner, you know it’s because he’s working too hard. Luckily for him, you know just the way to help him relax.

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