#these two in modern are just so chaos coded and i stand by it

[winterreigned]

“Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?” // @theyoungwclf

𝙤𝙝 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩 , 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚? she cannot help the gaping hole her mouth turns into , a shell-shocked expression over coming her previously stony face. family parties with the tully side of their family had always been a drag , though they had grown even worse as sansa got older. the only saving grace she could find was she was now old enough to hide behind a heavy pour of red wine.

uncle edmure was fine enough , their grandfather too , but their aunt lysa was enough to sour the entire occasion. she was a bitter woman , with vile opinions about robb , she was heavily envious of their mother ( sansa had seen through this since she was a young girl , but her mother held onto hope that they could restore the relationship of their childhood ). her son , their cousin robin , was just simply weird. when he played with bran , he surpassed even him. arya had always said it was because he was breast fed until he was ten , and perhaps this was true. the worst of the lot , however , was her aunt's boyfriend petyr. according to their mother , he had it bad for her as a girl. he was desperate and erratic. aunt lysa , in all of her widowhood , decided this would be the man to bring around ( and in truth , sansa wasn't surprised ).

petyr had a certain knack for being wildly inappropriate. during these parties , he'd hit on their mother , act fine around her aunt , then find sansa , corner her , and try to put the moves on her. it was disturbing , and this man clearly was a pervert. which is exactly what she let slip out of her mouth as he entered their mother's living room. catelyn stark's appall was noted , a gasp and glare coming from her towards sansa. this wasn't typical , usually she was the ' good one ' , would act ever the lady when her mother had company. the heavy pour of wine , however , ( and the several additional ones she had shared with robb and jon prior to their aunt's arrival ) did not allow sansa to simply fall into line.

❝ save me , ❞ she whispers harshly to robb. though , she cannot find herself to muster up an apology. ❝ go stub your toe or something. distract them. ❞ sansa replays her comment in her head ' oh look , aunt homophobe brought the old pervert again. ' OOPS , but not truly. it was well worth it.

[swampstew]

Kid's Pirate King Ambition

*disclaimer that it relates to my fic*

Ahem -

So when I started my fic "Turn Back Time" my concept for the West Peninsula was a smaller scale version of modern America. Ruled by a government body that coded the laws that just so happen to squeeze and exploit the working class for everything they have, but also cushion themselves and other elite types. This inspires a revolutionary type mindset for the main characters, even before they met the pirates; and when I wrote them relating these things to the pirates, I wrote the pirates as having had vague familiarity with those types of issues but never elaborated beyond hahah set fire to things! Chaos! ANARCHY!

Providing excerpts below but also highly encouraging you to read my fic cause I think its fun and cute and hope you think so too. Shilling over.

Read below to be razzle dazzled by my prophetic mind of Eustass Kid's ambition to be King of the Pirates.

These happen during different scenes in different chapters so I'll only copy/paste the important lines. Further clarifying to warn; if you click the links you may be directed to a chapter that contains smut or other TW content so read the summary/header if there is one!

Chapter 7: context - a community relief event is happening the next day that the island "rebels" want to use as cover to get "revenge" on the corrupt island officials -

Tommy walked towards the pirates, “yeah and um, at around 8 we’re having a meeting. We’re planning to target the island official buildings and their personal estates during the purge. Nothing too crazy but we could use a strategist’s mind or two for deviancy.”

“Ohh I don’t know Tommy. They might call our plans too pussyfooted and try to convince us to burn it all to the ground,” Andrea smirked, squeezing Kid’s shoulder.

“Aye, destroying the established order is the only way to invoke real change,” his face twisted in a devilish smirk.

Chapter 9: context - hijacking the "rebels" plans to make the sting of their "revenge" more real to people who think they're untouchable.

Kid strode to the middle of the room and commanded attention. “OI!” he glared at everyone. “Your plan is fucking stupid. Instead of targeting the institutions that control you, take it to their personal homes and lives. Your dumb as shit bylaws state that anything is fair game during this purge and any damage or injury caused during it is automatically forgiven. So take the fight to those fuckers houses.” He dropped the paintball guns into a pile on the floor.

<later in the story>

Looking down at her baggy, padded pants and oversized sweater, she shrugged. “You ever been shot with a paintball pellet? Fucking hurts.”

Barking with laughter, “I’ve been shot with real bullets, ya wuss.”

Chapter 12: context - a party on the ship where Kid celebrates his bounty raise and his crew.

“What started out as humble beginnings from the South Blue rabidly turned into a ship full of rad monsters quickly rising through the ranks of the pirate world. As it stands, we are the most prominent pirates, the lead in the Worst Generation rankings, and it’s about fucking time we’ve been recognized as such. The government is so quick to condemn a mere crucifixion of rival pirates but willingly turns a blind eye to the atrocities committed by World Nobles, royal kingdoms, even the Seven Warlords of the Sea – keeping pirates on the fucking payroll!” Kid spat on the ground.

“No real pirates ally themselves with marines or the government. We will never submit to them or anyone else!” he roared, his crew cheering him on with only a few concerned glances from the island folks intermittently in the crowd.

Raising his glass, everyone on deck mirrored his actions. “We are the future of piracy and we will dismantle the order of the world so it’s no longer ruled by scum!”

The response was thunderous. Andrea was impressed with his charismatic speech, the way he commanded everyone’s attention and even had civilians praising and cheering his speech. The islanders were not all naïve, they understood the way the island officials used the laws they wrote and capitalism to keep themselves above the rest; the division of class by wage and power had fractured the community long ago. She had only ever dreamed someone like Kid lived on her island to lead the people to revolt. She’d be happy with Kid himself leading it but he didn’t seem like the type to settle down. Wishful thinking. The Captain turned his head back to glance at her, Andrea raised her glass and took a long sip, raising the tequila bottle teasingly.

------- ok now the King of the Pirates ambition hook------

Kid understands Andrea's desires to not live in a confined world. He understands her frustrations with the system of exploitation on her island but doesn't have the means to do anything about it. He relates to her and likes her so much more for it. She's exactly the type of person he wants on his crew, and the fact that they have a thing only makes it better in his opinion. So now we have a full ship of pirate anarchists trying to achieve Kid's dream.

To be King of the Pirates and change shit up. The world is ruled by scum so he's gonna wipe it out and put himself on top. Will he be worse? Who knows.

Kid grew up in rough ass streets and he knows how corrupt people can be and what corrupt power looks like. He ain't about to be anyone's bitch boy. Not anymore. That's why he's so brutal. He wants people to fear and respect him. He wants to be King of the Pirates because he wants people to know that a fucking prick runt from the South Blue made it this high in life. And with the power and wealth of finding the One Piece, he will be coming for the Navy, The World Government and the Celestial Dragons. Anyone getting in his way is dead meat. He's not doing it because it necessarily liberates everyone else - he's doing it because they tried to fuck with him and he is saying FUCK YOU right in their faces. By smashing their faces in with his fists.

I'm not entirely sure he really cares all that much about the history of the world beyond professional curiosity. He's not trying to be a hero liberator. He's just a monster they created who is getting revenge. Revenge being fueled by the World Government/Navy allowing a corrupt criminal gang take over and ruin his island/and also may have facilitated the murder of his parents, to kill his first love, to try and kill him. Fueled by anger at the hypocrisy of the World Nobles and of Justice by the Navy since they do much worse, he's just upfront about his actions instead of hiding behind the scenes. He's a tough nut to crack because he keeps everything close to the (huge breasteses) heart. Everyone he has ever loved or cared about is dead outside of his crew. He doesn't want to love or care for anyone else because he might even feel like his love gets these people killed. So his only drive now is to make it out on top - then when the dust settles, he'll enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Anyways that's all I had, unless more comes up and then I'll respond to this post. This was all fueled by my outlining some future chapters and it made me wonder how my main OC characters would react if they learned about their past in passing from an original crewmember that isn't the big 4. A big smooch for you if you made it this far.

[badtasteaquarium]

[A] diskette

After a long and tedious meeting with the GUN Commander, Shadow walked down the long corridor of HQ, eyes on the floor in front of him. More testing, more trials, he thought. I thought the experiments were over, but they apparently want more data. Are they trying to recreate me? He ran the calculation in his head, but it came back with an error. That is one thing I cannot do. Predict the future.

"Hey!"

He blinked, and Rouge manifested in the middle of his path. "What's the matter, sourpuss? Let me guess--the commander was bullshitting with you?"

He sighed. "So to speak," he replied.

"Well, I have something that can take your mind off all that. Literally." She beamed and produced a red floppy diskette between her fingers.

Shadow stared at the disk, then back to Rouge's eager face. She loved to wear colorful, heavy makeup on her eyes and lips, but it didn't hide the dark circles beneath her eyes. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's a program for you."

His nose wrinkled. "Then you will find it useful to know that the 'bullshitting' I just did with the Commander was about doing more trials and tests. I am not interested."

He walked past her, shaking his head, but as predicted, she was not swayed. "Oh, come on! I've been working for weeks on this! I spent the last two days debugging it!" she exclaimed. "It's for your benefit!"

"Is it?" he said. "Or yours?"

"Well..." She fell behind a step. "It could be a mutual benefit. But it's mostly yours! Damn it, you know I'm one of the only people who can code in your native language..."

Shadow stopped and turned towards her, his gaze stern. "And again, I ask you: are you just doing so for your benefit?"

Rouge crossed her arms under her ample chest and met his stare. "This is your problem, anyway: you need to be able to relax." She flicked the disk up again. "This can help."

Shadow's gaze soften as his memory banks fired.

[RETRIEVING DATA FROM C:\... "--It's you. It's really you." Rouge embraced him tightly, even as the fizzling Chaos Energy wafted off him. "Welcome back," she said.]

He swallowed. "Fine," he said. "Where would you like to set up?"

She grinned. "My private office. After hours."

---

Rouge's office was small, to put it lightly. It was made smaller by the fact that she had crammed it full with a desk, an extra table, and a futon that if folded out, would take up any floor space left. A modern computer was set up at her desk, but the table housed a dumb terminal, along with a floppy diskette reader and an extra keyboard.

"Have a seat," she offered, immediately plopping at her desk and typing. "I'll get the cables out in a minute..."

Shadow stared at the Medusa's nest of cables in a bin on the desk. "With such limited space, you could stand to be more organized," he grumbled.

"Oh my word, you are so cranky," Rouge huffed. "I've been busy!"

He sighed and sat himself on the futon, folding his arms. "I do not know what you plan on doing to me, but I want you to know this: if it is at all unpleasant, I will refuse any future endeavors."

"I can live with that," Rouge replied absently.

Shadow blinked. That is not what I expected her to say...she must be confident...

She wheeled her desk chair over to the spare computer and popped in the floppy disk. It rattled while she turned on the terminal and began fishing for cables. "I think this should be long enough--oh."

When she pulled one out, it took several along with it. She sighed and began untangling, while Shadow leaned over to pick up the unnecessary cables. He took note of the tired creases beneath her eyes once again. "You talk enough about me," he said. "Shouldn't you get some rest as well?"

Rouge tilted her head back and forth, her mouth twisting. "Yeah, probably," she admitted. "I'll keep my work phone off this weekend, how's about that?"

She giggled, and he frowned. Then, she held up the parallel port. "Here, you want me to plug you in?"

Shadow took the cable from her and lifted the back of his hair to secure it into the back of his neck. She carefully unwound the rest and plugged it into the floppy drive. There was enough slack on the cable for it to touch the floor before reaching the desk.

"Is it running?" Shadow asked.

Rouge glanced at the terminal. "Shoot, I need you to interface first." She popped out the floppy disk. "Can you run your BASIC for me?"

Shadow nodded.

["RUN>>BASIC"]

The terminal on the desk flashed, then read the following:

“EXPANDED S.A. BASIC V. 2.0.2005 60287 BASIC BYTES FREE [PARTITIONED] READY…”

"There we go. Okay." Rouge popped the disk back in. In his mind's eye and on the screen, the program began to populate:

[LOADING FROM DRIVE A:\… … … <3 ~SPECIAL PROGRAM~ <3 BY ROUGE <3 © 2xx8 LANGUAGE PERMISSION BY GUARDIAN UNITS OF THE NATION, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

OPTIONS: MULTIPLE? Y/N INTENSITY 0-9? CLARITY 0-9?]

"What is this?" he asked. "Do not touch that keyboard."

Rouge held her hands where he could see them. "You can go ahead and review the code. I'm sure you'll be able to parse it faster than any human could."

Shadow's eyes narrowed at her, his jaw clenching. She did this for your benefit, or so she says... He closed his eyes.

[>>CHECK DRIVE A:\ 3000 BYTES. RUN PROGRAM ANALYSIS? Y/N >> Y INITIALIZING...]

Shadow's eyelids fluttered.

[PROGRAM FOR SEXUAL GRATIFICATION. SUPPRESSES INHIBITION CIRCUITS. INTENDED FOR SELF PLEASURE BUT CAN BE USED WITH A PARTNER. VARIATION PARAMETERS CAN ADJUST: MENTAL CLARITY. INTENSITY. NUMBER OF CLIMAXES. COMPATIBLE WITH MODULE PSDW-4065-F, PSDW-4065-M, AND PSDW-4065-X. MODULE DETECTED AUTOMATICALLY. END ANALYSIS.]

He shook his head, rubbing his temples. "You wrote a sex program for me? Rouge."

"What?!" she exclaimed. "You're not stupid or a baby, you already know how to do all that shit!"

"Not that I need to, nor is it necessary for my function."

"Are you sure?" Rouge leaned forward, hands on her knees. "Shadow? Are you positive?"

(In the dark of an abandoned lab room, Maria knelt before him, hard cock in her hand as she stroked gently. "Is this all right?" she asked, sweet and gentle. "Does it feel good?"

Shadow gripped the counter, only able to nod. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue over the tip of his dick. "How about this?" she asked afterwards, not taking her eyes off him.

The brittle, particleboard counter cracked underneath his grip...)

Despite the memory swelling in his chest, he still shook his head. "There is no point, I am sterile, after all--"

"I know about you and Dr. Maria," she insisted. "I know, because I did this with her consent."

Shadow's heart stopped as he stared wide-eyed at Rouge, who leaned back in her chair, pleased as she played her trump card. He opened his mouth, wordless at first, but eventually overcame his disbelief to speak. "You...if this gets out of hand, and I lose control--"

"I will take full responsibility," she said, hand over her heart. "At my own risk."

She was not to be deterred. He would need to speak with Maria about this, but now was not the time. "Damn it all," he hissed. "Fine, you may proceed with configuring this...program."

Rouge grinned, then swung back around to the keyboard and began tabbing through.

Before she was finished, Shadow gave pause. "Wait. Did she ask you to report on this?"

"Just between the two of us, totally off record," she replied with a wink.

Shadow grimaced. Embarrassing! The women in my life conspiring against me...

He tried to shake the feeling to address the program, still hanging in his mind's eye:

[OPTIONS: MULTIPLE? Y/N: N INTENSITY 0-9? 9 CLARITY 0-9? 1]

"That should be goooood," Rouge said, elongating the last syllable. "Hm. Well...no. It's fine. I want to see how hard you can go."

"That sounds like a terrible idea," Shadow replied matter-of-factly.

"You're so boring. This is why we're doing this, you know," Rouge dismissed. She turned around fully toward him. "Are you ready?"

As intense as possible. With as little self-control as can be prescribed. Adrenaline pooled at the pit of his stomach. "You know that I have the power to hurt you. That even if you tell me to stop, I may not be able to."

Rouge slapped her thighs. "Hey, if I die, I die."

This did not give him comfort. Still, her eagerness showed on her face, and he found himself forced to oblige. "Fine," Shadow sighed, and his telescopic pupils dilated.

[>>SNAPSHOT RECORDED. STORED TO C:\...\RECORDINGS\07-09-2XX8-22.36.40.mp4]

Rouge grinned, then spun on her chair and slapped the enter key.

[>>RUN … … … … …]

She let out a whistling sigh and faced him. "Whew! Now, hopefully, it works."

The terminal behind her ran red with shifting symbols and garbled text scrolling endlessly down the screen. Shadow rolled his shoulders back. "Are you nervous?" he asked.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," she replied, looking down at her manicured nails. "But I'm a big girl, I can handle it." Her turquoise eyes glinted in the dark as she met his. "Besides, I--"

She appeared to keep talking, but Shadow suddenly could not hear it. A body wide shudder coursed through him, his mouth watering so much that he was forced to swallow hard to contain it. Hardly aware of it, he stripped off his jacket and his shirt, leaving his GUN dog tags to clink against his chest.

Rouge stopped mid-sentence, lips parted. "Ooh. Oh, here we go," she muttered.

Shadow had never noticed her lips before. They were so full, painted with a shade of fuchsia that called to him. What would they look like with his fingers in them? With his cock in them? His heart began to race, mind quickly saturating as the ache in his groin grew more persistent.

"Sh..." Rouge stammered, eyes widening. "Shadow?"

Rouge was wearing her typical GUN uniform, buttoned down to the middle to show off a revealing tanktop. Most of her clothing was form fitting to each curve of her body, through her chest, her stomach, her ass, her thighs. Shadow imagined leaning over and grabbing her where she sat--the thought was so powerful--

(grab her saddle her over your lap)

--that he briefly hallucinated it--

(rip off everything squeeze her bite her)

--before refocusing his eyes and his ears to the sound and space of the room. He became aware that his eyes were glowing. "Come...here," he managed to say, his voice box distorting in its restraint.

Rouge slid off her desk chair to sit beside him on the futon, immediately shuffling off her company shirt. "You are so warm, I can feel you from here," she said. "I didn't think about how it might spike your thermals..."

Shadow could acutely sense her vitals--heavier breathing, harder heartbeat--made even more prominent with her chest heaving in sync. Her huge, fat tits.

He reached out and grabbed the back of her neck. The sensation prickled through his spine, some of the only organic pieces left of him. With his other hand, he yanked her forward by the waist and began sucking at her neck.

"Ahh!" she exclaimed. "Oh, fuck, we're really in it now--aah!"

Shadow reveled as he pressed her further into her, the smell of her tickling somewhere in the back of his skull and deep in his groin. Her hair in his fist, he tugged and bit, squeezing and clawing at her waist. It filled his mind with a delightful, perverse pleasure.

He felt like an animal. Driven by instinct. Not since he had the Chaos Emeralds in his grasp did he feel so alive, so real. So much of him was calculated, premeditated, and restrained; now, he felt overclocked, hyper-aware, and oh so, so, so hungry.

Rouge had been keening, trembling under his grasp, but he felt a warmth trickle down his chin. He paused to examine his work. She was already deeply bruised all the way through her shoulder and collarbone, and droplets of blood ran down her shoulder.

"Oh...I..." he began, but

[OVERRIDE. OVERRIDE. OVERRIDE.]

the apology that began dissolved before it could be spoken.

It was also encouraged by Rouge, who while a little shaken, smirked at him all the same. "Oh, you're vicious, baby," she purred. "Show me what else you can do."

The husky resonance in her voice sent shivers through him again, and this time he descended on her mouth, forcing his tongue in immediately, desperate to consume. He pulled her onto his lap, grinding his hard cock through his pants against her crotch, hot, hot and needy. Rouge wrapped her arms around his waist to press him closer, her hands drifting lower along the tracks in his spine, down to the ports at the small of his back. She used a nail to scrape against them, making his cock twitch in his pants.

"Hnn, nnn, fuck," he mumbled into her mouth. He pulled at the back of her shirt, and in one motion, ripped it from the back and shredded it off her body.

"Oh!" Rouge yelped. "Hey, easy--"

It left her in her bra, a black, lacy push-up that she was nearly heaving out of. Without ceremony, he stretched the band under the cups and pulled it off over her head, not bothering to undo the clasps, showing her tits on full display. These tits she's always showing off, now I finally see them, now they're finally mine, mine, mine.

Shadow pushed her down on the futon and grabbed both of her breasts, overflowing in his palms. She yelped, and he pushed them together, baring his teeth. "You've wanted to fuck me," Shadow growled when he opened his mouth, and spread her legs. "I've seen you staring, I know you want it."

Before she could answer, Shadow bent over her and jammed two fingers in her mouth. He tugged at her lips before stroking her tongue, then began fucking her mouth with his fingers. "This...is just a preview," he huffed, a roaring in his ears. "This...this is just...the beginning..."

Rouge's eyes watered, and when she tried to squirm away, Shadow held her down by her thigh with his free hand. "I don't think so," he said. Rouge choked on his fingers as he pushed them deeper in her throat. He found himself chuckling as she floundered beneath him, but withdrew in order to let her breathe. She coughed as she caught her breath, gingerly holding her neck.

He let go of her thigh to undo his pants, hastily discarding them to drag his cock in front of her face. Rouge managed to find some composure, but could not take her eyes off him.

"What do you think?" he heard himself say.

"I've seen you...in stasis, but I've never seen you hard," Rouge managed. "You're going to fucking destroy me, aren't you?"

Shadow's eyes lowered, and he grinned with parted lips. "I'm gonna make you feel like you've never felt before," he purred.

[>>INITIATING CHAOS DRIVE ENERGY REDIRECT. >>REDIRECT COMPLETE. INITIATING APHRODISIAC PROTOCOL.]

The last sliver of his rational brain gave him pause, despite him rubbing his cock against Rouge's lips. That is not something I was aware of before, he thought. But with the sight of Rouge's fluttering eyes, rolling back, Shadow quickly dismissed it. Who cares about the why...

It was easy to shove his cock into Rouge's mouth. She hummed as it went in, and impressively, didn't gag as he bottomed out. Whore, he thought, and nearly said, but caught again behind his teeth. He wasn't all programming and wires--his brain was still flesh and blood, fully integrated with the power of Chaos energy. It clawed through the red, lust induced haze to offer his partner a shred of dignity, despite her lipstick smearing on her mouth and her moaning growing less restrained.

He could keep his mouth shut, but he couldn't turn his mind off.

(look at this cock-drunk slut, look at how she deep-throats you, she's so into it, she wants you to fuck her brains out with those huge tits and ass bouncing on you, ride her and make her moan make her scream let her be so desperate--)

"Hnn," Rouge sighed, her eyes glassy as she pulled his dick out of her mouth to hold it near the base. Her voice held a hazy, entranced tone. "You taste...so good..."

Her tongue lolled out of her mouth. Static increased in Shadow's mind.

"Then keep sucking it, bitch," his mouth said, harsh and distorted.

She shuddered, grinning, then gleefully began sucking him off again, slowly sitting up to kneel on the futon before him. Shadow covered his mouth with one hand, and grabbed her hair with the other. It's so mean, he thought, heart racing. It's so dirty. It's so perverse. But it's so...it's so...

[>>WARNING: CPU AT 99%. THERMAL THROTTLING RISK AND DRIVE FAILURE.]

The warmth on his cock receded as Rouge sat up. "You're...fighting it," she said with a chuckle, still in the same distracted tone. "Stop."

Shadow blinked, trying to focus on anything that wasn't shoving his cock between her thighs. "I...I..." he stammered.

"If...you...ngh." She shook her head. "Damn it, that's stronger than I thought." Rouge cleared her throat and spoke more clearly. "If you don't let go, you're going to fry one of your CPUs or overload your RAM, and I'll never hear the end of it."

Shadow began to tremble.

(hot slut with a mouth good for fucking)

(I can't say that!)

[>>WARNING: THERMAL THROTTLING IMMINENT.]

He ground his teeth, and sighed deeply.

Rouge sat up fully and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Trust. Me." she said emphatically.

Shadow met her eyes. I trust you. I do not trust myself.

But, I will have to.

(you need to)

I need to.

With a hard swallow, he closed his eyes, feeling them roll back.

[>>DEACTIVATING ADVANCED OPTICALS. >>CPU: 97%... >>ACTIVATING INFRARED HEAT VISION.]

Shadow's eyes snapped open, seeing only a white hot heat map of Rouge in front of him,

and he let go.

He ripped off her uniform pants and panties in one go, throwing them across the room. Firmly, he grabbed her by the hips and propped her up on the futon. While she spread her legs for him, he forced them wider and immediately began to finger her, her cunt already soaking wet.

"So easy," he muttered, the scent and heat of her sending shivers down his spine. One finger turned to two, three, and four very quickly as he stretched her, pushing as far as he could go. "So fucking...easy...nngh..."

Rouge panted and started to whine again, squirming under his touch. "Oh damn it, fuck, Shh...aaah, Shadow," she keened, the hazy tone and glassiness in her eyes resuming. "Just get your cock in me already...!"

Shadow grinned, and pushed himself inside her with ease.

The feedback was immediate, every receptor in his spine firing at once as her warmth engulfed him. He groaned deep in his chest, bottoming out and smacking her thighs as he gripped them. "Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned. "And warm...a-aagh!"

Momentum took him, and he began to thrust at a hard and heavy speed. It rippled through her body, and she moaned and shook with every pounding thrust, His fingers gripped and grabbed at her soft skin, and there was so much of her to grab. This is everything, Shadow thought, delirious in heat. I've never felt this...

This raw pleasure...carnal and obscene...

I need it, I need it, I need it...

[>>EDGE.]

Just as he felt a peak rise, it dropped off as quickly as it came. He blinked and bent over Rouge, grabbing a fistful of her hair without letting up his pace.

"You like it, don't you?" Shadow whispered into her mouth, tasting the heat and sweat wafting off her. "Don't you..."

Rouge babbled uselessly, head rolling back, only able to utter moans and cries.

Shadow did not stop to let her speak. Instead, he chuckled and gingerly kissed her cheek. "Good."

[>>INFRARED HEAT VISION OFF. >>ACTIVATING ADVANCED OCULAR VISION... >>CPU: 95%...]

He blinked and saw clearly now: Rouge's half lidded expression completely lost to the brutal fucking she had succumb to. Shadow pushed deep

[>>EDGE.]

and felt another wave drop off him. Need it. Need more. Need more. Shadow mashed his lips against Rouge's, immediately forcing his tongue into her mouth. She moaned loud, and he felt himself return it, the pleasure delicious and trembling through his whole body.

(it feels good to moan)

(get more into it)

"Ahhn," he sighed. "Ohh, fuck, fuck..."

"More, more," Rouge sang, clutching on his back. "Harder...aah!"

She squealed as he thrust

[>>VIBRATOR ACTIVATED. >>EDGE.]

harder into her, digging his fingers into her waist as his focus tightened. He bit down on her lip, pulling on it while straightening his posture, brow furrowing as he pounded her, endlessly and repeatedly.

[>>EDGE.]

He fell into a rhythm, sinking into the wet, slick sound of her pussy, how hard his dick was,

[>>EDGE.]

how close he felt, how close, how fucking close,

[>>EDGE.]

how badly he wanted to cum, cum, cum,

[>>E?????DGE. >>CPU: 99%...]

Rouge's moans were turning to whimpers, turning to whines. "Nngh," Shadow groaned. "I...I...need..."

He started to shake, keeling over as static prickled on his scalp. He was glued to her hips, and green sparks started to flicker on his fingertips. "Need...need...nnnngh..."

Shadow's moan came out as a whine, and his vision flashed yellow. There was no more edging. It was now or never. "Ahh...aah...AAAH!"

The air crackled with electricity as Shadow clutched Rouge, his orgasm surging through him like an overloaded circuit. He was an overloaded circuit, releasing pent up electricity he never fathomed he held. Shadow's body shook, and Rouge trembled in turn, tense in his arms and around his cock. It felt like an age, distorted through the haze of animal lust in his mind

(YES YES YES YES YES FUCK HER FUCK FUCK FUCK)

that slowly, slowly faded as the wave of pleasure subsided.

Then, it was quiet.

[>>PROGRAM TERMINATED DUE TO SHUT DOWN. >>BASIC TERMINATED. >>CPU CHECK...OK. LOAD 50%...49%....43%... >>RAM CHECK...OK. >>SYSTEM ANALYTICS...OK. >>DRIVE C:\...OK. >>DRIVE A:\...OK. >>CHAOS REGULATOR...75% LOAD. COOL-DOWN MODE. OK.]

Shadow's eyes fluttered, and he fully came to himself when he smelled burning plastic. Hastily, he reached to the back of his neck and pulled out the cable, which was indeed singed on the end. "I hope you have more of these," he muttered, tossing it aside.

He glanced at the terminal, which read nothing. "Diagnostics read a force shutdown. Hopefully nothing critical was damaged, but I am afraid you will have to get any logs from me."

Finally, his gaze fell down to Rouge, still balls deep inside her. Carefully, he withdrew, his cock glistening with their mingling sex. Oddly enough, she did not react. "Rouge?" he said.

She laid still. Eerily still. "R...Rouge?"

Rouge did not respond.

A wave of nausea clutched him, and he quickly held a finger to her neck, bruised and bleeding. No. Oh, no, no, no.

[>>VITAL ANALYSIS: PULSE: 0]

She was not breathing. "Fuck!" he exclaimed.

[>>CHAOS DRIVE ENERGY REDIRECT: DEFIBRILLATOR.]

He hastily rubbed his hands together until he felt static pulsing beneath them. Thank Chaos I was trained on this, he thought, fighting the panic eager to set in his bones. Please, Rouge, please, I'm so sorry, please come back. Carefully, he placed his hands on her chest.

[>>CLEAR.] "Clear."

A brief shock burst from his hands, and it pulsed her body. Placing both hands near her heart, he counted a rhythm. One, two, three, four, five. Then, he opened her mouth to breath into it.

[>>RECALIBRATING: CO2 TO O2...COMPLETE.]

Shadow poured fresh air into her lungs. "Promise you, I am not...j-just a weapon," he muttered as his breathing apparatus recalculated. "I can...I'm not..."

He pulsed her hands over her heart again. One, two, three, four, five.

[>>VITAL ANALYSIS: PULSE: PLEASE WAIT...]

"Come on, come on," he murmured under his breath, throat burning.

[>> 1...2...3...4.... PULSE: 70 BPM]

Now breathe, he thought desperately, hands shaking as he lifted them off her chest. Breathe!

She gasped and coughed, and her chest began to rise and fall in rhythm once again. Shadow sighed shakily, shoulders falling. Miracles do exist...

Rouge tilted her head up, eyes fluttering open, and smirked up at Shadow. "Ugh," she groaned. "That was crazy...they don't call you the ultimate life form for no--oof!"

Shadow laid beside her and held her close, tears running down his face. "Thank Chaos you're all right," he said, muffled into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Rouge replied. "I just passed out for a second--"

"Don't be stupid!" he shouted suddenly, still muffled as he clung to her. "I-I had to restart your heart...I could have killed you!"

He kneaded his head into her shoulder as the panic and adrenaline continued to course through his entirety post-orgasm. "I didn't...realize I would discharge l-like that...you couldn't...you're..."

"Shh," Rouge hushed, and stroked his hair.

She said nothing else. That's what happens when you lose control, Shadow thought, that is why they want you as a weapon. You can be as clandestine or as overt as you need to be. You can have sex with a spy to spill their information, and kill them mid-coitus. So versitile you are, Project Shadow!

He grinded his teeth, but exhaustion was eager to take him, as well as neutralize his venomous self-berating. You also were fitted for rescue, to heal. You were meant to be a cure. You are the reason Maria is alive. And despite it all, Rouge is also still here because of you...

Shadow felt himself drifting into a doze. "Good," Rouge murmured. "This is what we in the business call 'aftercare'."

Shadow lifted his head up and opened his eyes. "Wh...what?"

Rouge nodded, but Shadow noticed the shakiness of her own deep sigh. "I've played with boys meaner than you, who didn't care half as much," she said. "I'm okay, promise."

Shadow's deep red-eyed stare bore into her. "Are you?" he asked. "Please, do not lie to me."

She looked away at first, then managed to meet it. "Fine. I am a little shaken up," she admitted. "But I did set the parameters to maximum, so if that's your full power, then I know where to adjust the code."

Shadow nodded, then reached out and cupped the side of her face with one hand, hardly touching her skin. Her eyes widened in surprise. "I would never harm you on purpose," he said, measured and even. "Or any one else, in this manner..."

Rouge's face broke into a weak smile. "Oh, Shadow," she said. "I know. Maria's very lucky." She bit her lip and paused. "I wouldn't use this program with her."

"Of course not."

"There's a reason I was the one who tested it."

"You mean it wasn't purely for your own fantasy?"

She laughed, and kissed him quickly. After, however, she winced. "Ouch, you did really get me," she said, gingerly touching her swollen bottom lip.

They both sat up, and Rouge pawed around for her clothes. The blood on her neck had dried, but the bruises remained, and more dotted her hips and sides. Shadow winced to himself. Damn it. I cannot bear to imagine what "meaner boys" did to her...

"And you shredded my uniform, too!" she said with a laugh. "You really were an animal."

"Please, don't," Shadow sighed, hiding his face with the palm of his hand.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. "I did have a good time."

[>>RETRIEVING DATA FROM DRIVE C:\... "Hey, if I die, I die."]

"You're crazy," he muttered.

"Just a little," she said, pinching her fingers. She wandered to her desk, still naked, and picked up a pager lying abandoned. "You'd be surprised at the amount of people who want to be roughed up. And you know something else?"

She paused and gestured at him with the pager. "What?" Shadow said.

Rouge smiled wryly. "I think you had some fun too."

Shadow sighed deeply. I could dwell on this guilt, but what good would it serve? She survived by my hand, and her bruises will heal. His stomach still churned, but deep inside him

(you did have enjoy yourself)

he knew the truth.

"Hey Doc, it's Rouge," she said into the pager. "Shadow and I just got finished testing. If you don't mind, could we meet at your office and debrief? I'll get the logs. And could you bring a change of clothes? Thanks, hon."

She dropped the pager and turned around to pat Shadow on the shoulder. "Hey sourpuss, if it makes you feel any better, you won't almost kill anyone if you just use it to jerk off. But, I'll still make some adjustments."

Shadow snorted. "Thanks."

She winked at him, and his heart eased.

[sj-ficrecs]

fic rec 11!

just a random collection of what I’ve read and enjoyed lately. as usual, no specific order.

This is purely a fic rec blog, always reblogging fics I enjoy. usually Bucky x reader, sometimes Steve x reader, Chris Beck x reader, etc. So check out more I’ve reblogged on this page. :) See my past fic recs below:

PREVIOUS FIC RECS HERE! // Q & A

(divider by @bwbatta)

Bucky x reader:

Flashing Lights by @pellucid-constellations​ Paramedic!Bucky x reader

“Bucky’s worst fears come true when he’s called to a scene. If he’s the one with the dangerous job, then why is it your life that’s hanging in the balance?”

Operation: Freefall by @constantwriter85​ Bucky x reader

“When Bucky fell from the train in 1945, he didn’t just leave behind his family and friends. He left behind the girl he was going to marry, a girl he never stopped loving. Decades later, Bucky continued to search for her, only to find out that she had disappeared without a trace in 1955. But when Steve hands over the shield to Sam Wilson, he also has something for his childhood friend—a redacted S.H.I.E.L.D. file code-named Operation: Freefall, a file with more questions than answers. With Sam’s help and a handful of Pym Particles, the file sends Bucky on a trip to the past, trying to solve the mystery and save the woman he still loves.”

Recovery by @wicked-mind​ Biker!Bucky x reader

“After going through rehab and recovering, you move back to town to live with your mother as you sort out what to do with your life, but your mom has other plans that include hooking you up with a hot biker by the name of James ‘Bucky’ Barnes”

Teacher’s Favorite + Sharing My Sweetheart by @suitk0via​ Single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“You are first grade teacher and Bucky is a single dad who wants to be involved with everything his little girl - Elaine - does. He’s the dad all the parent’s and faculty drool over. You quickly become Elaine’s favorite teacher and Bucky’s just gotta meet you.”

Uninvited by @mymoonagedaydream​ modern!Bucky x reader

Reader is a close friend of Sam’s. Sam and Bucky are roommates, so reader spends a lot of time with them. Bucky becomes colder towards reader and they ask Sam about it - finding out Bucky, who is taken, is falling out of love w/ his gf because he has a crush on reader.

You Know Me Too Well by @nexusnyx​ Tattoo Artist!Bucky x reader

“there is a thin line between pain and pleasure. that line is real and palpable, except for the times when you sit in bucky barnes’ table and feel his hands holding your skin. his job demands him to hurt you, but the only problem is that you enjoy it. a lot.”

The Slip Up by @justkending​ dad!Bucky x reader

“After a last hurrah to graduating college with a future to be a family practitioner, a little slip up happens… Seven years down the road, just when things just now seem to be going smoothly, Y/N approaches that slip up from all those years ago. She’s not looking for anything right now. She is just where she wants to be in life. It seems the universe has a different idea though. One called James Barnes.”

Invisible String series by @dirty-holy-things​ Bucky x reader

“You were fairly certain that landing a date through court-ordered therapy was some sort of HIPAA violation, if not just an ethical one, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by the mysterious storm cloud of a man who you shared the waiting room with every Thursday.”

Sacrifice by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“In the midst of an attack, you’re dosed with an unknown chemical and your healing ability becomes compromised.”

Purgatory by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.”

Behind the Storm by @wkemeup​ Bucky x reader

“On a mission, you’re hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.”

We Were Screaming in Color by @samwlscns​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“james buchanan barnes was your soulmate and you were his. despite everything the world threw your way, bucky always kept his promise to make his way back home to you. even if that meant having to lose him more than once.”

Bulova by @babycap​ Bucky x reader

“In the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel. A non-canon compliant, friends-to-lovers fic.”

And They’re Roommates by @golden-barnes​ Modern bartender/roommate!Bucky x reader, New Girl au

“Your boyfriend cheats on you, and now you have nowhere to go. So when you found an ad for a shared loft, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. Come to the realization that you will be sharing it with four guys. Four guys, one of them who is extremely hot and zero brain cells between any of them. What else could you ask for?”

Keep Me Cool by @chouettedubois​ Bucky x reader

“You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.”

Love in the Workplace by @cxddlyash​ Gardener!Bucky x Receptionist!reader

Working at the same hotel, a new gardener is recently hired.

“Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener. 

“What is it?” Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

“Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired,” you mention while walking closer to the place.”

Dad Biker!Bucky being adorable with his kids blurb by @angrythingstarlight​ dad biker!Bucky x reader

dad biker Bucky and his kids making pancakes and breakfast for mom :)

Tap by @houseravenclaws​ Bucky x reader

“bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.”

Teach Me How to Love by @thefalconthatcriedwolf​ Godfather/single dad!Bucky x teacher!reader

“Natasha leaves behind her precious daughter, Yelena, and with her dying breath asks Bucky to look after her. You happen to have Yelena in your class this school year.”

To Build a Home by @buckyjamess-archive​ @buckyjamess​​ Mechanic/single dad!Bucky x single mom!reader

“a mechanic and a nurse walk into a schoolyard..both new in the single parent life, chaos arises when the two come together but they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A Good Kind of Fire by @dolcezzasfantasy​ Modern!Bucky x reader

“Character A runs a flower shop downtown. Character B is terribly allergic to flowers.”

If I Could Fly by @ceeellewrites​ actor!Bucky x actress!reader, social media au

“Bucky Barnes is an actor with a small (just a tiny) celebrity crush on Y/N L/N, one of the industry’s well-known actress. Well, it’s just a celebrity crush, what could go wrong?”

The Rumour by @sidepartskinnyjeans​ Bucky x reader

“after a, mostly, chance meeting with Sergeant Barnes starts a rumour around the compound that soon gets out of hand.”

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that’s it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He’s resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life…until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.”

Crawl Home to Her by @nexusnyx​ Bucky x reader

“when bucky finaly returns from his mission, he finds you sleeping in his sofa and the apartment much different than when he left. much prettier, with a touch of home. apparently, while he was away you took his advice to “do what you want with the place, doll” seriously - or as a distraction - and now he got to come home to this.bucky’s heart takes a leap and he stands there for a second, frozen in his spot.”

Signed by the Author by @wintersfilm​ Bucky x reader

“on a mission to improve his conversations with sam, bucky wanders brooklyn and into a bookstore where he finds his new favourite book and the most adorable bookseller he has ever laid eyes on.”

Seasons of Love by @constantwriter85​ Army vet!Bucky x reader, modern au

“Bucky gets a service dog, but Winter’s only got eyes for the dog across the park…and her owner.”

One Single Thread of Gold (Tied Me to You) by @pietrotica​ Bucky x reader, soulmate au

“on your sixteenth birthday, the first words your soulmate will speak to you appear on your wrist. in a world where it’s quite common to get a simple ’hi what can i get you’ or common phrases, you’ve managed to get their name. that doesn’t make it easier to find him.”

Sunday is a Family Day by @lazyangeltreemoney​ Bodyguard!Bucky x rockstar!reader

“You’re stubborn, annoying and hot as hell which seems to be an awful combo to mix with Bucky Barnes. However one day he realises he got you all wrong and now there’s a little kid in the mix that needs both of your help.”

[theplumsoldier]

fear he who fears nothing

prologue summary: as a public figure living in modern germany, you would have thought your past was just that, just a past, but now, it has come back to haunt you and pushes you into the clutches of one baron zemo, while making you acquainted with the american heroes, falcon and the winter soldier.

series warnings: vulgar language: cursing; explicit scenes: mentions of blood, explosions, shootings, torture, injuries; a wannabe’s pathetic try at german; hinting at sexual themes.

a/n: little german is used in this but enough that i felt the need to add translations. translations will be marked as italic and are hedged in between “<>”. note i am not familiar with the languages colloquialisms so if you notice something wrong with my translations, you are most welcome to message me!  this is the prologue to my series “fear he who fears nothing”. it will kick of in the next year in will be no longer than around six to seven parts. i haven’t figured it all out yet, but im working it out and updating along the way!

The two men, the ones whose identities later would be divulged and state to be an age-old relic and a national hero on the lam, did not at all fit into the club. It was always dark inside the White Lady, however the blinding lights – which one would not be wrong in their observation, should they deter them prone to trigger epileptic seizures – could not hide the two most rigid gents standing tall in the midst of the dance floor. You can ask why one, who does not dance, would stand on the dancefloor, however, your words would be in vain and your time lost, for Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes do not have time for anyone who is not Baron Zemo—

Who in this very second was in full swing of a Super Smash Bros match, using your club for arena.

The White Lady was a luxurious club, everyone in Germany was well aware of that. A place for important people and all who frequented the state of the art club knew the person next to, too, spent money like water. It was not a space for gang violence and illegalities, so when security had let them distract for just long enough, politicians and business owners, men and women of wealth ran around, much portraying the image which comes to mind when one would think of a fox entering a henhouse.

Panicking, people ran about like headless chickens, not for the exit, per say; for when in shock, instinct conquers rationality, sprinting and pushing their peers as if their lives depended on it. In a way it did, but in a club of important Europeans, they were not the target. Should they injure tonight, it would merely be in the result of the live American action movie-like fight which had now taken to the balcony lounge.

It took a rough shove to the back to send you back to the current state of affairs. It dawned on you now you would have to act, howbeit you had yet to figure out in which way.

Ushering past the frantic dancers that previously had revelled, you went pretty much unnoticed up the stairs. Pretty much unnoticed surpassing entirely unnoticed due your loyal bodyguard.

You quelled the urge to scream at the fighters when two of them pretty much shot through the air, hurling through at least 30k worth of ceiling lights.

They were the ones you had heard of multiple times through the years now: They were the “good guys”, from America. Albeit as they impoverished you, ruining 10 years of blood and sweat, before your very eyes, they were far from the good guys. Having pushed through what you had over the years, it now became clear if anybody was going to push you to your knees it had better be in another setting, with a whole other mood–preferably with some Frank Ocean in the background.

“Na los, komm schon!” Lina called, shoving you back down the stairs to get you out of danger. Your safety was her priority and so she updated security of your location via her Bluetooth earpiece. <Let’s go, come on!>

You were halfway down the stairs when the sound of an explosion went off. It was impossible to tell where it came from, but the next thing you knew was shattered glass raining from the ceiling. A group of red lights had severed from the ceiling and judging by the panic-stricken cries people were hurt.

The lights were suddenly killed, the whole club jet black for seconds until the standby generator switched on. You used this to your advantage, and scurried past Lina. You knew she only acted in your best interest, however your moral compass did not allow this terrorist to destroy your club.

When the lights turned on, the whole place lit up in a hideous yellow light, the kind you will find makes life difficult for drug addicts. This allowed you to properly see the damage done. It made you angry, seeing all these people suffer in your club; foreigners using your territory as playground.

“YN!”

“Schafft sie hier raus! Ich werde dafür sorgen, dass es hier oben kein Versteck gibt! Die Polizei soll Krankenwägen schicken, die Türsteher sollen die Umgebung sichern! Bin gleich draußen!” Lina protested, stepping up the staircase but you were adamant, and if Lina had learned one thing in her many years of her current position, it was that you were stubborn and steadfast as hell. “Ich komme schon klar, kümmern Sie sich um die Kunden!” <Get them out of here! I’m going to make sure there’s no hiding up here! Contact the police and have them send ambulances, have the bouncers secure the perimeter! Be right out!” > <I’ll be fine, tend to the customers!>

With that you sprinted down the hall to your office, punching in the code to unlock the door. At least your safe space was still intact. For now.

Getting the gun from the classic secret-safe-behind-the-wall-painting spot, you swiftly checked the chamber for rounds at full tilt. Finding only five bullets, clicked it back in place and took a second to exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Checking the chamber was about as nifty as your skills – if one could even call it that – got, so let’s just say it was going to be fun carrying out your little idea, threatening them.

You made sure to only hit the floor – it had to be replaced anyway – when shooting, and if a couple of toes would suffer your not-at-all refined skills, so be it–better that than accidentally killing one of these buffoons because you were not about to have a death on your conscience.

That got their attention.

“Y’all better get the fuck out of my club now!”

Shooting pretty much fuelled your wrath, but a fuming woman with a gun in her hand was something to fear, and you wholeheartedly trusted these idiots knew that.

“Ma’am, you should get—”

“Shut up!” seethed you, jaw clenched as much as the index finger you kept hovering over the trigger. “Now!”

You had lost sight of the bird-man. You hoped he had the decency to have grabbed a broom by now, cleaning up what chaos he so ignorantly had commenced with his little cyborg friend.

“Ah, Miss YN,” charmed Helmut Zemo then, not letting down his guard to the soldier not far from him, but he allowed himself to send you a duplicitous smile, evidently having convinced himself that this was a friendly visit.

But you had two bullets left and one hell of a grudge against this one.

“I was hoping to find you here,” spoke he, he thick-laced accent ringing through the room with an aftertaste of a memory of someone you once knew. “Perhaps we could have a little... Chit-chat, hm? Put down the gun, will you?”

“Du Hurensohn!” swore you and grit your teeth. “There are other ways to reach out to a person than destroying their livelihood!”

“Well, I had to get your attention, you understand—”

“Yeah, you got it alright! Now get the hell out of my club before I blow out your brains!”

That is if there are any left, you thought, waving the gun towards the exit. God, you hoped the police had the place surrounded.

Sirens sounded from the street, and the Winter Soldier took the opportunity – Zemo being distracted with you – to charge at him, attacking him with a knife. Zemo noticed the change in your expression, and thwarted the attempt.

You did not noticed the man coming up from behind you before he had you in a neck lock, pulling you away from the balcony railing. Screaming, you pulled the trigger, trying to twist your arm around, while out of his reach, and shoot him blindly. To no avail, however. The sound of the shots must have been what ushered the police through the doors, yelling and firing warning shots to stop the whole affair.

You could not be sure, though, for while you struggled for air, clawing at the assailant’s muscular arm, you vision veiled in black and the last thing you felt before drifting off, was a heaviness taking you to sleep.

[cl-01-kestis]

My Little Rebel - Inquisitor!Cal Kestis x Female Rebel!Reader | Part 12

Summary: Tension runs high within the Mantis as Cere continues dwelling on what she witnessed on Kashyyyk, whilst you and Merrin venture forth to find more holocrons on you’re home world; Coruscant.

Warnings: longish chapter ahead

“Be safe, and don’t bring any attention to either of yourselves” Cere said in a more than stern voice, her hands tightening their grips on you and Merrin’s shoulder as she nodded. The two of you looked at one another before sending Cere a sharp nod in reply and scattering to find your bearings.

Greez piloted the ship into the landing docks at the bottom of the skyscraper distribution in the middle of the concrete jungle planet; Coruscant, which is also your home planet. It didn’t feel right being back here, as well as finding out about Cal you also found out about your life back at Coruscant when you were a preteen and before then. You didn’t tell Cere why you were so tense about being on Coruscant but you were comfortable enough to tell Merrin, you felt like you could tell her more things because she wasn’t a very judgemental person and she was already a very close friend of yours.

“Alright ladies! Here’s your stop!” Greez yelled from the cockpit, alerting you and Merrin from your rooms whilst you were still packing your things for the journey ahead. A satchel was wrapped across your body, the strap travelled from the left side of your neck to the right side of your hip, securing the chance of it not being stolen. Emerging from your room, you walked out to the main body of the ship and walked towards the ramp which was wide open and ready for you to exit. Merrin appeared behind you seconds later and only then did you snap out of your thoughts and get ahold of yourself. You took a nervous step out onto the ramp and you were unable to stop the burning curiosity churning in your gut. You were in central Coruscant, right in the middle of the capital. You could tell with all the sky high buildings and monuments. You were surrounded by multiple towers, you were even surprised Greez managed to land the Mantis so well in such a built up area.

Dismissing your whispering thoughts, your feet left the ramp and were flat against the concrete platform of the landing dock. A small beep knocked your attention away from what was in front of you and to BD-1 who was standing on your shoulder, it’s weightless presence causing you to smile. You looked back to the area around and took a deep breath. Imperial troops surrounded the docks, thankfully unbeknownst to what you really were and not suspecting a thing, considering the trooper ahead of you was waving at you and Merrin and signaling you to approach him. You gave another look around the area, noticing how intense the security was around Coruscant. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated by the amount of bodies of white armour patrolling the area, holding brand new shiny blasters that could kill someone if they aimed it correctly.

You looked at Merrin, nodding to her in reassurance before walking over to the trooper with a fake friendly smile on your face.

“Welcome to Coruscant, state your business” The stormtroopers voice was mutated by the modulator within his helmet. You cleared your throat briefly before resting your hand on the empty satchel which held nothing but your lightsaber, just in case they done a pat down on you and ended up finding it clipped to your waist.

“My name is (Y/N) (S/N) and i’m here with assistant visiting the Senate” You said, keeping up the fake act of being all nice and friendly as the trooper sailed into the coms system and took down your visit.

“Alright ma’am, you’re free to go, have a safe trip” The stormtrooper saluted with two fingers before taking a step aside and letting you pass through. Merrin smiled underneath her mask and pulled her hood further down her forehead, way too wary of her surroundings. She had never been in such a built up area before, it was safe to say she hated it so far.

“See? that wasn’t so hard” You judged her with a smirk, turning to look ahead of you whilst keeping your head low and managing to quickly pass through the security area without having anyone suspect a thing. This was surprisingly better than you thought it would be, not one stormtrooper had stopped you yet and it brought a bit of the weight off your chest.

You and Merrin approached a row of turnstiles, you looked to Merrin who had a confused expression on her face and looked at the turnstile as if it were her worst fear. To your fright, a nearby stormtrooper had taken notice to your hesitance in going through the turnstile and started walking towards you. Merrin cursed to herself underneath her breath and looked up at the stormtrooper, putting on an awkward smile as if she was trying her best to be friendly.

“Something a problem?” The stormtrooper asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he inspected the two of you. Nodding quickly, you assured him.

“My apologies soldier, my friend here has never travelled before so she isn’t very familiar with all the modern technology” You made sure to add a subtle, joking chuckle at the end just to make sure you avoided suspicion as much as possible.

“Ah, I see. Sorry for bothering you, safe trips!” The stormtrooper had a much more positive voice this time, waving you off as he turned his back and started making his way back to his post.

“Let’s get going, we can’t stick around any longer” You said to the Nightsister, passing through the turnstile and hearing it click sharply in the air once you were on the other side and making Merrin flinch slightly.

“It’s not going to eat you, come on!” You giggled, waving Merrin on as she reluctantly passed through the strange entering machine and pushed it forward violently when it didn’t move, resulting in one of the three bars hitting her in the backside and causing her to fall forward. You caught her quickly before she fell and let out a wheeze of amusement, your face red as you tried holding in your laughter as Merrin’s face held humiliation and anger.

“Shut up” She hissed, pushing you away and gaining her composure before walking forward and waiting for you to catch up.

-

Coruscant was everything you remembered it to be. You only remember it from visions of your past but it felt unreal being able to walk on its grounds once again. You weren’t even going to think about approaching the Jedi temple, that was too dangerous. Plus, the Emperor was here, the main man in charge of all this chaos.

You and Merrin thankfully found a place to seek refuge in for a break, getting something to eat with the credits Cere gave you and filling your stomachs before continuing your mission. It was raining in the city, it didn’t come as a surprise to you somehow, it was as if you knew the planets ins and outs completely even though you can’t remember the last time you set foot on it.

Merrin was still wary about everything and everyone she came across, glaring to those who stared at her for too long and clenching her knuckles till they were white instead of that milky grey. You had to keep assuring her what felt like every minute, she was so defensive and scared, unlikely of a Nightsister. She was brave though, she was determined to help you continue the mission and hopefully find what you were looking for; the holocrons.

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure this was going to be a successful mission. Holocrons were highly protected and had an incredibly reliable security system that not even the best thief could get past. You wanted to try though, as absurd as it seemed. You remembered exactly where the holocrons were since you sometimes guarded the grounds as a Padawan in training. But this came as an advantage, thanks to Cere hacking into the Temple’s online systems, your name was still available and you were still able to use your code in order to gain access to certain areas. These are the moments where you’re glad to be a Jedi.

Merrin’s job was to be your advisor, you were hoping to get into the Senate building at first and pose as a Senator for her planet, Dathomir, as naive as it sounded. Your name was still in the systems so you wanted to use it in more than one advantage. With a little Jedi mind tricks and manipulating storm troopers, you might just have a high chance of this mission being a success.

“Should we dial the Senate and tell them we’ll be attending the negotiations?” Merrin asked curiously, looking down at the coms device on your wrist and then back up to you to study your expression. Frowning, you thought deeply for a brief second before nodding and pressing a few small buttons on the coms device.

“Let’s do it, remember your position, we’re posing as Dathomir Senators. Do you have any experience in politics?” You asked. Merrin shook her head.

“Being a Senator consists of defending your planet in negotiations, you listen to what the Senate is discussing about and decide whether or not you agree or disagree” You explained as simply as you could, earning a groan from Merrin who pinched the bridge of her nose and pursed her lips.

“So if they want to take control of my planet, what do I do then?” She asked.

“They won’t, not many Senators know we’re attending, we’ll just be sitting on the side inspecting everything going on” You assured her, gripping her shoulders and shaking them softly before returning to the coms device and pressing the green button before hearing a beep echo in the air around you both.

“This is Senator Organa of the Galactic Senate, how can I help you?” A man with a deep voice asked through the speaker of your coms device, his voice polite and full of acceptance.

“This is (Y/N) (S/N) of the planet Dathomir, my assistant and I will be attending the galactic senate shortly, I apologise deeply for giving you such short notice Senator Organa” You said in a sophisticated, well put together voice, looking to Merrin who was smiling in amusement as she watched you speak to the Senator at the other side of the coms.

“No need to apologise, we haven’t had any Senators from Dathomir in centuries! This is a very welcoming surprise indeed! There will be someone at the entrance of the senate waiting for you and will es court you to your pod” Senator Organa replied with an even more enthusiastic voice, making you and Merrin smile a bit wider before replying.

“Thank you very much, Senator Organa, it’s a pleasure to be back” You said before bidding farewell and ending the line. Merrin shook her head in disbelief whilst a giggle left her lips.

“Was it really that easy?” She asked, earning a short lived laugh from you. Nodding your head, you took Merrin’s hand and lead her to the curb beside one of the many main roads within Coruscant. It was obvious you were calling for a taxi, leaning your body out of the curb a bit and stretching your arm out, waving it from side to side until a taxi pulled up. Getting inside, you told the driver your location and gave him the credits necessary for the journey.

-

On the journey to the Senate, BD-1 sat on your lap and took some time to recharge. Merrin had packed paint in her bag whilst she was back at the Mantis, in order to paint your face so you looked like her and were a believable looking Nightsister. She done your face paint quickly and swiftly in the taxi but the driver seemed to be a bit nosy when she was smearing packs of grey on your face. It felt cold against your flushed face, covering up any sign at all of being a human. Merrin made sure to also add the details, you were surprised at how prepared the Nightsister had been for getting you ready. She added small yet believable markings on your face which started above your eyebrows and curved steadily down to your cheek bones, another few markings on your jaw which curled up at your ear. Merrin smiled at her handiwork and nodded to you.

“This type of paint takes a while to come off, it has its own shield when it comes to rain and things that are wet, so don’t worry about it washing off” Merrin smiled, packing away her paints and the small brush she used to apply the markings and zipping it up quickly as the taxi came to a halt.

“Senate building” The driver announced without turning around, waving you and Merrin off after you gave him your thanks and got out of the floating vehicle. You looked up at the large semi oval shaped Senate building and felt your lips curl up into a smile. Merrin looked astounded as she stared with twinkling eyes at the building. She’d never seen something so big and so weird looking.

“Let’s go” You dragged her attention back to reality quickly as you grabbed her wrist and ran up the stairs.

“Wait!” Merrin stopped you quickly, standing behind you and quickly tying your hair back and covering it all with the red hood she supplied you. You thanked her quickly and returned to running inside the building. Thankfully the taxi driver had dropped you off at a high platform which meant you could slip through to the Senate meeting without much attention.

As you and Merrin approached the entrance, a tall lanky man with pale skin and ashy brunette hair stood with his arms folded behind his back. He had a mean looking stare as his eyes landed on you and Merrin. This must be the man general Organa sent to escort You.

“Welcome to Coruscant Senators of Dathomir, I am Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin and I’ll be taking you to your pod” The man named Tarkin said in the most monotone voice you’d ever heard, it was clear he’d recited the words from a piece of paper and wasn’t thrilled at all to be here at that moment. Wanting to at least be civil, you bowed to him and clasped your hands in front of you with a smile.

“I am grateful for your welcome, Admiral Tarkin, lead the way” You smiled as he bowed back out of courtesy and turned around to lead you to the centre of the building without another word. Merrin walked beside you, you could feel her anxiousness so you sneakily grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She was under pressure, it was clear she’d never been in this type of situation before. If you fucked this mission up, the two of you could be executed, and the two of you are aware of that.

After a couple of silent minutes, Tarkin led you to a pod which was fairly high up and had a view of the whole Senator negotiation. He left without another word after giving you and Merrin another bow and quickly scurried away to his duties. Merrin was quick to look over the edge and notice how large the room really was, it brought an expression of amazement to her face. You let out a silent chuckle as you watched Merrin study her surroundings. You slipped behind the seat in front and quickly told her to sit down before any attention was turned your way.

Merrin took off her mask but still kept on her hood out of pure shyness and need to keep her identity to herself. You were the same of course, you would take off your hood but Nightsisters don’t have (H/C) hair, so that would be very suspicious.

The two of you watched with stone cold faces as the man in the middle of the Senator room spoke with a loud clear voice. You knew that man the moment you saw his red cape and grey, deathlike face. Immediately, you raised your barriers up and closed your presence off so force sensitives such as Emperor Palpatine wouldn’t notice you. You couldn’t risk that, it was the most important thing that you couldn’t let slip. The only thing that was really missing from this whole ordeal was Darth Vader, but you weren’t going to manifest on it just in case he appeared out of nowhere, what would be horrifying.

Listening in to the meeting, you looked around and at other Senators who were involved in the negotiations and speaking their opinion like it was the only thing that mattered.

You remembered a long time ago in your years of Jedi youth, Shaak would take you to the Senate negotiations and teach you all about politics as well as training you to be a Jedi. You had your first Senate negotiation when you were 15, a month before the Jedi Purge commenced, and it was about the death of a trooper named Fives. Your master once knew him very well and he died because of unknown circumstances, not how he died, but rather why he died. You were up against the Chancellor with your thoughts and opinions on the situation, but just like every other Padawan, your opinion didn’t seem to matter due to your age and lack of ‘knowledge’ needed to go into a Senate negotiation.

This is why you felt so tense staring at him as he announced each word with such clarity, each word laced with poison as if someone spat in his drink. Merrin didn’t seem to like him much either, considering the tense and uncomfortable emotions you felt from her. She knew who Palpatine was, due to hearing you speak of him many times whilst staying up with her during the night in the Mantis cockpit or falling asleep with her on the sofa in the middle of the ship.

“When do we get the holocrons?” Merrin said in the quietest voice she could muster, making you lean in close to her as you replied.

“Patience, Merrin, once this is over I’ll go and fetch my old keycard and the codes for disabling the security” You replied, so quiet it almost seemed you were mouthing the words to her. Still, even though the two of you were as quiet as mice, you still kept your gaze sternly on Palpatine who was still talking and exchanging opinions with other Senators.

“What about me?” She asked.

“You’re coming with me, I need you to help me load my satchel and call Greez to pick us up as soon as the mission is complete” She nodded at your words before leaning back in her seat and spectating with caution. The two it you looked almost identical, sitting with such poise as you got stared at Senators from underneath and above. It made you feel vulnerable, but then you remembered you were in disguise and had a hood over your head.

As you looked over the crowd of Senators, something began to feel different, as if something in your chest got all fuzzy and uncomfortable. You started feeling a little uneasy and took a glance around to see where the source was coming from. Merrin turned to look at you with wide eyes and her whole body went as tense as a brick. Your heart dropped as you recognised the presence through the force and you immediately wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. This wasn’t good.

The Inquisitors were here.

-

“The codes for each security system is in this very computer, there’s only one here but there’s lots more at the temple” You said in a rushed tone, painted grey fingers rapidly typing on the laptop as you put in your name and all the rest of your details in order to gain access to your key card. Merrin stood over you, her hand on the back of your chair whereas the other was on the table beside the laptop. The two of you had to leave the Senate the moment it finished, you informed Merrin that the Inquisitors had made an appearance and the two of you were now, very quickly, running out of time.

You got to the nearest computer port there was and desperately tried to get ahold of your card. Thankfully, after typing in all the details and questions about yourself in order to confirm it was you, a small slot at the side of the computer spat out a clear keycard with a single golden stripe across it, your coding in tiny black letters written across it. Merrin raised her eyebrows in surprise as she watched you yank the card out of its slot and logged out of the computer.

“Let’s go” You said anxiously, grabbing Merrin’s wrist and dragging her along to the exit of the senate building. Without wasting a moments hesitation, the two of you grabbed the nearest taxi and demanded to go to the Jedi temple, as nervous as you were. BD-1 chirped anxiously as it looked from you to Merrin, worried in case the mission was going to go wrong but you quickly assured it as Merrin gave you a warning look.

You tried acting calm but deep down something inside you told you this was going to end badly.

[vespertineflora]

WangXian Fics

Ongoing:

as the sun will rise E, Fairy Tale AU, Slow Romance/Happy Ending, 50k+ For centuries, the villagers surrounding the Qianlian Forest have been beholden to a fearsome creature. A once loved Prince was long ago cursed into a monstrous form, and ever since has required the sacrifice of maidens to ensure the safety of the forest and the people living around it. This forlorn tradition might have continued for centuries longer... but when it comes time for Lotus Pier to send a maiden as tribute, Jiang Yanli is chosen, and Wei Wuxian won't stand for it. His plan is simple; he'll send Jiang Yanli off to live the long life she deserves with her fiancé, and offer himself as a sacrifice to the Prince instead.

Completed:

at night your body is a symphony E, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, 7k Two weeks ago, mere days after Wei Wuxian’s confession and their first shared kiss, Lan Wangji had been a semi-clueless virgin. Now, Lan Wangji had seemingly unlocked whatever secret code was required to reduce Wei Wuxian to a quivering mess in just a few sparse minutes, playing him as expertly as he played his guqin. Wei Wuxian was half-convinced he'd been seduced by a demon.

do you know who tells the truth? E, Post-Canon, Confessions, 21k Wei Wuxian has been wallowing in feelings for Lan Wangji that he's had a hard time accepting and sometimes, when you need a healthy heaping of the truth, the best place to get it is from drunks and children. (the one in which a short-tempered Jin Ling and a drunk Lan Xichen open Wei Wuxian's eyes to some very convenient truths)

a call to motion E, Post-Canon, Confessions, 14.6k Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji take the junior disciples out on what they expect to be a standard night-hunt, but when Wei Wuxian is targeted with an odd talisman, they end up with a much stranger problem than any of them could have anticipated.

i'd like to drown with you E, Post-Canon, Hot Springs Sex, 7k As soon as Wei Wuxian learns the Cloud Recesses has hot springs, he insists his husband take him, but knowing Wei Wuxian, his intentions go far beyond just taking a relaxing soak.

so full of love E, Post-Canon, Co/ckwarming, 5.1k Wei Wuxian’s head lolled back against Lan Wangji’s shoulder behind him as he let out a faint and content sigh. It was late, well past when Lan Wangji would normally have headed to bed. The only light in the room was the warm glow of the lantern on the desk in front of them, illuminating the hunt notes that Lan Wangji would have graded earlier if Wei Wuxian hadn’t seduced him into bed immediately after their return from dinner. It was a chilly autumn night, and Wei Wuxian was naked, but he had found the warmest seat possible in Lan Wangji’s lap.

oh but you're good to me E, Canon Divergent, Omegaverse, 10k Wei Wuxian had never been good at keeping track of his heats, even though he'd been dealing with them for years. It was one of the many ways Jiang Yanli spoiled him too much, always warning him a couple of days ahead of time so that he'd be prepared... But he and Jiang Cheng had been in Wen territory for weeks now, and after accidentally leading a coup against Wen Chao and being left behind in a cave with Lan Wangji and the terrifying demi-xuanwu, the last thing Wei Wuxian expected was for his heat to sneak up on him now. (basically, an aboverse au where poor omega Wei Wuxian goes into heat while he and an alpha Lan Wangji are waiting for rescue in the cave.)

The Beauty of Love As It Was Made To Be (series, complete) love; it will not betray you E, Canon Divergent, Omegaverse, 17.9k (pt 1) When Wei Wuxian realizes how strange it is that Lan Wangji is the only disciple from his sect at the Wen Sect's indoctrination, he puts together a haphazard plan to get punished with him and get some time alone to talk to him--only to get punished again when Wen Chao catches him mid-conversation attempt. At first, Wei Wuxian laughs off getting shoved into the empty dungeon, but he soon notices that some strange scent in the room is making him go into heat, which is a twist that Wei Wuxian doesn't understand. It's only when a rutting Lan Wangji gets shoved into the room with him that Wei Wuxian realizes Wen Chao's idea for punishing him is far more demented than he could have imagined. (canon divergent from The Untamed, episode 12)

love; it will set you free E, Canon Divergent, Omegaverse, 25.5k (pt 2) Lan Wangji hadn't been prepared for the punishment Wen Chao had had in mind--and he certainly hadn't been prepared for how it would play out, from Wei Wuxian's suggested solution, to the claiming bite and resulting bond that revealed deeper emotions than Lan Wangji could ever have anticipated from Wei Wuxian. Surviving the indoctrination camp is only the first step down a long road towards the life he's desperate to have with his new mate.

imagine being loved by me E, Post-Canon, Rope Bondage, 11.2k After a year together, Wei Wuxian has been tied up with his husband's forehead ribbon enough times to get an idea of what he likes, and decides to get him a present to make things a little more fun for both of them. But as usual, when Wei Wuxian asks for trouble, he always gets a little more of it back than he's expecting.

the best of you (belongs to me) E, Modern AU, Bondage & Sensory Deprivation, 7.4k Having received no reaction from Lan Zhan, Wei Ying couldn’t help himself; he rubbed his hips more pointedly against Lan Zhan, moaning faintly at the fiction he’d generated as he inhaled slowly, the scent Lan Zhan was wearing filling his nose and making his head buzz with memories of Lan Zhan pinning him to the bathroom wall, taking him forcefully as he covered his mouth with his hand to keep him quiet...

The chopping of vegetables stopped. “Wei Ying, I started cooking because you said you were hungry,” Lan Zhan said, trying to sound patient, though his tone was faintly vexed. “Do you want dinner or do you want sex?”

Wei Ying huffed softly, pouting at his own inner turmoil, before replying, “...yes.”

the heart is hard to translate E, Post-Canon, Consensual Non-Consent, 10.8k For months, Wei Wuxian had been haunted by the most enticing fantasies of Lan Wangji kissing him on Phoenix Mountain turning into something quite a bit more explicit--which was nothing new for him, really. He'd been babbling about fantasies of Lan Wangji overpowering and ravishing his younger self ever since their very first time together, and it wasn't as if those fantasies had gone away over time. If anything, they'd just grown more diverse, more... creative. The moment comes almost out of the blue when, one relaxed spring afternoon, Lan Wangji decides that he's ready to offer Wei Wuxian an opportunity to play out that very delicious fantasy about their stolen first kiss.

and i'll get you lost E, Post-Canon, Fem!Wangxian, 8.4k After a year of marriage to her wonderful wife, Wei Ying's sex life is anything but stale--but she's nothing if not always eager to try something new. The minute Lan Zhan tells her she has a surprise for them, Wei Ying can hardly wait to find out what it is. (a canon-compliant, post-series AU where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are both ladies)

these words are knives that often leave scars T, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, 6.5k Wei Wuxian hadn’t been lying the night he’d told Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji that he didn’t remember the days after the massacre at Nightless City, but his memory had always been awful, so he hadn't given much thought to just how many pieces of his memory were missing. Since his reincarnation, memories from his past life have been coming back to him bit by bit, and he doesn't seem to have much control over it--but if he did, he would have chosen to never remember what happened those days in that cave in Yiling.

one last drink T, During Canon, Grief/Mourning, 1.1k Wei Wuxian had always said that the Emperor's Smile in Gusu was the best liquor he'd ever had. He'd never have a chance to drink it again now, so the least Lan Wangji could do was have a drink in his memory. (WangXian Week 2020 Prompt: Emperor's Smile)

how it was to feel alive T, During Canon, Grief & Hurt/Comfort, 4k On Lan Wangji's first day out of the Jingshi in the months since his severe punishment, he takes Lan Yuan to go visit his rabbits. The trip doesn't go according to plan, but it ends up being the push Lan Wangji needs to move forward. (An au where everything is the same, EXCEPT Lan Wangji's rabbits are Flemish Giants). Written for Untamed FallFest 2020: Remains.

r/relationships T, Modern AU, Pining & Confessions, 10.6k Lan Zhan has been in love with his best friend for nearly a decade and despite his attempts, has never managed to confess. Now that Wei Ying's lease is almost up, there's a chance he'll be moving in with him soon, and Lan Zhan isn't sure that's something he'll survive... The impending stress leads to a drink, which in turn leads to a desperate Reddit post that goes viral and attracts attention and advice from... well, none other than Wei Ying, resulting in a series of failed attempts at getting Wei Ying to realize just how Lan Zhan feels about him.

surely to the sea T, Modern AU, Hair Washing/Non-Sexual Intimacy, 2.1k Lan Zhan has had a rough week at work, so Wei Ying decides to do something very sweet for him.

[texastheband]

Texas V Wu-Tang Clan

Interview by Steven Daly Photography by Peter Robathan Taken from The Face - December 1997

It’s the pop story of ’97, the most unlikely end to a weird year: TEXAS collaborating with the WU-TANG CLAN. First, a Scottish rock band on the verge of slip-sliding away into a tasteful obscurity was reborn via a slew of hit singles and a glut of stylish imagery. Now, in New York, their Brit-cool meets hip hop in a mutually beneficial deal. For everyone concerned, it’s all they need to get on…

Sharleen Spiteri took the call in her front hall. "Yo, Peach," growled a strange voice over transatlantic wires. The gentleman caller was none other than Ol’ Dirty Bastard, court jester of New York hip hop dynasty the Wu-Tang Clan. Apparently Mr Bastard fancied working with Spiteri and her band, Texas. It all started in August, with one of Texas’ managers discussing Land Rovers with someone called Power in New York, who turned out to be the manager of the Clan. A video of Texas’ "Say What You Want" was dispatched, and prodigiously gifted Wu-Tang chieftain RZA signed on to do a re-recording of the single for a prospective single project. Original rapper OI’ Dirty Bastard was replaced by Method Man, the next Clan member with a solo album scheduled.

The hook-up with the Wu-Tang Clan is the perfect climax to a year that’s seen Texas rise from a tumbleweed-strewn grave to grab the pole position in British Pop. A year in which Glasgow’s Sharleen Spiteri has stared out, defiantly remade and remodelled, from every magazine cover and TV show. From a media point-of-view, Texas’ – Spiteri’s – reconfiguring of music and fashion has been the year’s dream ticket. Ever since Bryan Ferry took the innovative step of getting Anthony Proce in to design Roxy Music’s wardrobe in the early seventies, successive phases of pop’s history have thrown up performers who use the fashion photographers, stylists and designers du jour to present The Package. It is these performers who most often capture the youthful mood of their time: that’s why you can see the vulgar glamour of the Seventies in the cut of Ferry’s sleazy lounge-lizard jib; the naive aspiration of the early Eighties in the box-suited and pixie-booted "style" of Spandau Ballet; and the onset of the late-Eighties mixing and matching of different cultures in Neneh Cherry’s Buffalo Stance. When we look back at 1997 we will see in Texas’ sound and vision a new mix, all to do with living the high life but keeping it real. Catwalk and street, the designer and the understated, Prada and Nike; the slick and the cred. Ten years’ gone Scottish guitar outfit and this season’s bright young labels (in both senses). The setting too, has helped. Fashion, again, is big cultural business. Clever pop stars (Goldie! Liam!) want to be seen by the runway and hanging out at fashion parties; young designers yearn to be visible on the stage or the podium (viz. Antonio Berardi’s autumn London show at Brixton Academy). Factor in a paucity of self-motivating, button-pressing, songwriting, photogenic women in British music, and you have a ready-made media phenomenon.

Sharleen Spiteri is holding court at a New York restaurant with a gang of Calvin Klein employees who’ve just accompanied her to the VH-1 Fashion Awards. The annual ceremony is a mutually convenient arrangement, a TV cluster-fuck where the music and fashion industries exchange credibility and cachet. Texas are contemplating just such an exchange themselves, having recently been given the OK by CK. (Tommy Hilfiger has also made overtures.) Spiteri is to have an audience with Klein himself; she’s already been bribed with a trunkful of CK merch, including the streaked black dress – "inspired by [the artist] Brice Marden" – she’s wearing tonight.

Someone suggests that Texas would be perfect for Fashionably Loud, an MTV special where models strut on stage as the hot bands of the moment rock out. "Forget it," quips Spiteri. "there’s only room for one star up where we play." If Spiteri were to join Kate Moss and Christy Turlington on the Calvin Klein payroll it would not, as she sees it, detract from Texas’ music. "Fashion and music have always been connected, and now more than ever," says the singer. "You couldn’t have one without the other. If there’s shit music at a runway show it just doesn’t work."

Meanwhile, there’s the songs. With "White On Blonde", Texas’ fourth album, the music takes care of itself. Radio-friendly unit-shifters abound, helped on their way by producers Mike hedges (manic Street Preachers) and Manchester’s Grand Central. The singles have been, in sequence, nu-soul fresh ("Say What You Want"), springy pop ("Halo"), Motown-sunny ("Black Eyed Boy") and winter warming ("Put Your Arms Around Me"). The B-side remixers have covered all bases in these dance-savvy late Nineties, ranging from of-the-moment talents like the Ballistic Brothers and Trailerman to old stand-bys like Andy Weatherall and 808 State. Texas, patently, lost their dancefloor cherry by cherry-picking the brightest and the best.

Of course, while the singles have all enjoyed heavy airplay and gone top ten, and while "White on Blonde" has sold two million copies (more than its two predecessors put together), the remixes haven’t necessarily helped those sales. As the go-faster stripes of credibility on the solid saloon car, though, they’ve still been essential to The Package; all part of the thoroughly modern mix.

So now, the Wu-Tang Clan. To many, though, this latest development could smack of opportunism. One group are renegade roughnecks who mythologise themselves in epic hip hop anthems; the others are fastidiously tasteful Scots with an eye for perfectly modern consensus-pop. The Wu-Tang Clan are certainly among the aesthetically correct names that Texas always drop in interviews, but can there possibly be a legitimate connection between the two? "A lot of the Wu-Tang backing tracks have the feel of soundtracks, and we’ve always gone for a cinematic sound," says Johnny McElhone, Spiteri’s genial songwriting partner and bass player. "And I’ve always liked Al Green, and they use a lot of Willie Mitchell, Al Green, that whole Hi Records sound, and make it modern. And Marvin Gaye: Method Man, in that duet with Mary J. Blige, used ‘You’re All I Need To Get By."

Having dominated the charts in Europe this year, Texas are now, logically, turning their attention to America: the country that has always inspired them, whether it’s the dusty, pseudo-roots sound of their first three albums, or the iconic-soul and post-soul sounds of Memphis and Staten Island that they give props to now; the place where success has always eluded them. Yet given the commercial momentum of "White on Blonde", their approach to the Wu-Tang Clan is surely not driven by desperation. They are, then, viewing the collaboration with a combination of fan-like wonder and disbelief.

"Method Man is just a wicked, wicked rapper," enthuses Spiteri. "I can’t wait to hear the combination of my vocals and his – I‘m really excited about it. I have a kind of sweet, virginal thing going on, and he’s got this dirty sex vibe. It could be the perfect marriage."

It’s a Saturday night in Manhattan, and ten storeys above Times Square, Sharleen Spiteri sits on the floor of a recording studio, tinkering with her latest high-tech gadget, a Philips computer about the size of a TV remote. Across the street, three ten-foot high electronic ticker-tapes provide testimony to Monday’s stockmarket crash. No matter how much Spiteri plays with her new toy, there’s still that nagging worry: what if the Wu-Tang Clan won’t show? They’re supposed to be on a tour bus returning from a gig in Washington, DC today, but these, after all, are the original masters of disaster. The crew whose normal modus operandi seems to be chaos. The band that recently quit a national tour because only five of the nine members could be relied upon to turn up.

The studio has been booked since six, so Spiteri and McElhone breathe signs of relief when RZA and his posse finally roll in around ten. Among the dozen-strong throng, they’re surprised to see Wu-Tang member Reakwon, a stout fellow with a Mercedes cap and a Fort Knox of gold dental work. Several cigars are hollowed out, their contents replaced with weed; bottles of Cristal champagne and Hennessy are passed around as the air grows thick with smoke.

Half an hour later, method Man makes his entrance. Stooped over, he looks deceptively short – maybe only six-four in his Hilfiger fleece hoodie. "I’m John-John," he tells Sharleen, referring to his alias, Johnny Blaze. Pulling out the big blunt from behind his ear, Method Man considers the job at hand. "She got a nice voice," drawls the laconic giant. "This band not exactly my type of listening material, but they going in the right direction, if you ask me, by fucking with us. I’m waiting for RZA to put down a beat, hear how the vocals sound melded with the track before I come with ideas. I’m one of those guys."

As his friends get on with the serious business of partying, RZA goes to work, feeding a succession of sample-laden discs into a sampler. He has a diffident, genius-at-work charisma about him as he sits with his back to the room, keyboard at side. With a flick of his prodigiously ringed hand he reaches out and conjures up a brutal bassline. The speakers pulse violently. RZA takes a sip of Hennessy. "Record this, right here!" he tells the bewildered-looking engineer.

RZA has decided to dispense with the original master tapes, shipped over from Britain. He wants a completely new version, recorded rough-and-ready without the standard safety net of a time-code. This convention-trashing, wildstyle approach to recording elicits some consternation from the studio’s engineer, a central-casting white guy who warns RZA: "You won’t be able to synch to this, you know." RZA waves him away and turns to Johnny McElhone. "This riff is in E," McElhone tells RZA. "Maybe we should try it in the original key, D." "What are you saying? I understand no keys," says RZA. "You want me to sing the whole song straight through?" asks Spiteri, trying to divine RZA’s intentions. He orders the lights turned down, and offers Sharleen some herbal inspiration. She politely declines and walks to the vocal booth. "What’s her name? Sheree?" asks RZA as Spiteri warms up. The engineer wants to know if he should maybe start recording. "Always record everything!" exclaims RZA. "Ready, get set, go! Play and record, play and record!" Spiteri rattles of a perfect new version of ‘Say What You Want’, grooving along by herself and passionately acting out every word, even the ones borrowed from Marvin Gaye’s ‘Sexual Healing". Now it’s time for Method Man, who at this point is so herbally inspired that he can hardly open his eyes. He jumps up and lopes around the main room, running off his newly written rhymes and clutching a bottle of Crystal. Method walks up to the mic and opens his mouth, and that treacly baritone sets a typically morbid scene: "Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest…" The Texas duo just look at each other, shaking their heads in awe.

The hours and the rhymes pass. Around 6am, things are starting to get a little weird. As Method Man snoozes on the sofa, RZA bounces off the walls, dancing like a dervish. "These are the new rhythms," he yells. "These are the new dances from Africa. I learned them when I was there last week!" McElhone and Spiteri crack up. The engineer probably wishes he were in Africa right now; he further draws RZA’s ire by making a mistake as he runs off some rough cassettes. As everyone says goodbye, RZA decides that he’s taking the studio’s sampler – he already has two of the $3,500 items, but at this point it’s all about the wind-up. The engineer, though, having last seen the end of his tether a good few hours ago, has had enough. By the commencement of office hours that morning, the rest of the session will have been cancelled and the band and Clan banned from this studio.

After a few frantic phone calls later that morning, a studio is found that is prepared to let the Wu-Tang Clan through the door. With one precondition: only two of them are allowed in the studio. Now it’s midnight, and four-fifths of Texas watch a trio of RZA-hired session men go through their paces. They shift effortlessly through a handful of soul and funk styles, and the Scots mutter approval. These are the kind of players that are so good they can get away with wearing questionable knitwear.

Soon, another couple of Wus pop in. Then another couple. In the control room RZA orders up a bottle of Hennessy and talks about hearing "Say What You Want" for the first time. "I didn’t fully understand the sound of it," admits the soft-spoken maestro. "It was obviously a popular song, a radio song, and my sound is the total opposite. But I thought that the artist had something, so I thought: "Let’s take her and rock her to my beat."

"Sweet soul, that’s what her stuff sounded like to me. Smooth. It reminded me of the Seventies: in those days, they did songs that would fit anywhere. If you went to a club getting high it would fit; if you was cleaning up your house it would fit. That’s when you’ve got a real great song right there." Whether or not "Say What You Want" is a great song, it’s not quite coming together tonight. Despite the best offers of the studio management, a full complement of Wu posse members ended up in the house. As the night drags on the trio of musicians don’t get with the track, and by eight the following morning there is little in the way of usable material. But everyone stays upbeat. Texas will work on the track in Glasgow, and send it back to RZA to finish, along with a new song based around one of his samples. After vowing to stay in touch, everyone stumbles out into the Manhattan morning light together, the Scots with an American name, and the Clan without a tartan.

From a distance the collaboration will continue. But it’s only a different kind of distance. Culturally, creatively, the gap between the Wu-Tang Clan and the old twang clan is considerable. Yet so it goes, this cross-cultural exchange programme. Whether it’s The Stones copping blues movies, Bowie digging the Philadelphia Sound, Lisa Stansfield getting soulful with Barry White, Sting getting doleful with Puff Daddy… Whether it’s Todd Terry reviving Everything But The Girl or Armand Van Helden making Sneaker Pimps the unwitting jumpstarters of speed garage, naked opportunism and risk-taking innovation have always been confused. Now, with genres blurred and tricknology proceeding apace, anything is possible and everything is permitted. Perhaps it is this, the sheer unlikeliness, that makes the Texas-Wu experiment the most illuminating collaboration of the year. Whether it works or not.

"If you play her stuff in a club, everybody be dancing, but it’s a clear room and you can see everybody’s face," RZA reflects on the departing Sharleen Spiteri. "But if you play mine, the room is smoky." And perhaps it is here, among the clouds and the clarity, between the smoke and the mirrors, where a new sound and vision lies.

Text originally posted on texasindemand.com

[catsafarithewriter]

“Can’t you see I’m busy procrastinating?” - Haru/Baron, potentially Cups of Tea AU? OwO

A/N: One Cups of Tea AU coming right up! This was inspired by this post, and although I don’t have Haru and Baron sharing your requested line (Hiromi gets that honour, or close to it), this is one option for how Haru and Baron may have met for the first time. (i.e. chaotically) Enjoy! 

x

Moving into a flat with Hiromi was always going to be chaotic. 

Still, nothing could prepare Haru for the sight of her best friend cursing at the light switch. 

“Work was that bad, huh?” Haru ask as she dumped her bag and coat by the front door. 

“Ngh,” Hiromi said. 

“Alright. Well, that’s an answer.” Haru kicked off her shoes onto the mat just as the lounge light turned off. “Uh, Hiromi? Some light would be nice.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.” 

“What do you mean you’re trying? How--”

Hiromi grabbed Haru’s arm and, in the dim shadows, dragged her over to the centre of the chaos. “Look. Watch.” She flicked on the switch and light flooded the room.”

“Very impressive, Hiromi,” Haru deadpanned. “And if we move to the kitchen, perhaps we’ll find that turning the tap makes water appear--”

“Just wait.”

Several dubious seconds passed. 

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here with you all evening and marvel at the wonders of modern technology, I have rice that needs cooking, so--”

The light went out.

“Hiromi...”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You must have done something - that or the bulb has blown--”  

Staring straight at Haru, Hiromi flicked the switch. Light returned... for all of ten seconds before depositing them back into gloom. “See?” she yelped. “See? It’s not me! Something is seriously wrong with this place. Maybe it’s--″

“Don’t say haunted.”

“Do you have a better solution?”

“This building is brand new, Hiromi; it’s probably just some faulty wiring.”

“Maybe they build this place over some spirit’s home, and now it’s angry--”

“Unlikely, given that they tore down a warehouse to build it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Unlike some, I actually read all of the brochure before signing up.” Haru shrugged, and the light came back on. “It’ll be... teething problems or something.”

The light turned off. 

“Yeah, well let’s just hope the oven isn’t also ‘teething,’” Hiromi said. 

x

Luckily, whatever ailment had taken hold of the living room light seemed content to remain contained for the time being. 

Still, Haru had to shut her bedroom door securely and stuff blankets along the base to stop the erratic light beyond from keeping her awake. It became routine, just as much as the funny key jiggle needed to lock the apartment door, or the way that one of the floorboards tilted if you stood on the wrong end.

Hiromi was less accepting about the whole shebang. 

“Let - me - turn - you - on - you - blasted - thing!” Hiromi cursed as she battled with the disobedient light switch. 

Haru strolled from the kitchen, dinner in one hand and her phone in the other. “Just use one of the table lamps,” she offered as she perched on the sofa. “They don’t misbehave.”

“I don’t want a table lamp, I want the big light to do its damn job.”     

Haru watched the unintentional light show and distantly wondered what they were accidentally spelling out in Morse code. Then it gave her a headache, so she looked back to her phone. “Your dinner’s going cold, Hiromi.”

“I don’t care. I will win!”

“Against faulty wiring? I think the only thing you’re going to win is an electric shock.”

“I’m not going to let a haunted light bulb beat me!”

For not the first time, Haru wondered how much simpler her life would be if she didn’t have a drama queen for a best friend. “It’s not haunted, Hiromi.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Haru’s phone dinged, and she opened the message. She grinned. “Because I’ve just discovered the real reason.” She scrolled through the text. “I got talking to the IT department at work - you remember Chika, right? - and they’ve done a little digging and they say...” Her eyes widened at the explanation. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” 

“What?” Hiromi catapulted herself over to Haru’s side, her battle with the light switch all but forgotten. “What did they say?”

“Apparently these new condos use a - and I quote - ‘unique and innovative binary code’ to connect the switches to the lights and should have a radius of 30 feet.” Haru paused. “The actual radius is much bigger.”

“How much bigger?”

“Uh, about 40 apartments bigger?”

Hiromi considered this. Then a wicked grin spread across her face. “Are you saying that I’m controlling the lights of 40 other flats?”

“Not... quite? Based on the limitations of the binary code, there’s only 16 possible code combinations, so basically our switch controls the light of at least one other apartment, maybe more.”

“So. Not haunted.”

“Not haunted,” Haru agreed. 

x

Haru entered to the furious clacking of the light switch and the sporadic light show dominating the flat. She dumped her groceries, sidestepping the bag of laundry that Hiromi had promised to clear before she’d left, and found her best friend hunkered down before the switch and a notebook. 

“Hiromi--”

“Not now! I’m concentrating!”

Haru patiently waited, watching Hiromi’s brow furrow in intense concentration as she clicked through a specific pattern. Just above that, Haru could hear muttered letters. 

Eventually, Hiromi sat back, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Done!”

“I hope you’re referring to the clothes you were planning to take to the laundromat,” Haru said. She leant against the door-frame and gave her friend a look. 

“Ah. That.” 

“Or maybe you were talking about the dishes in the sink you said you’d clean.”

“Oh. Well--”

“Or perhaps it was the recycling that needed taking out.” Haru raised an eyebrow and was rewarded with an unflustered flush from Hiromi. “What are you doing?”

“Procrastinating. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Haru leant in and snatched up the notebook.

“Hey!”

Haru raised the book out of her friend’s reach with a teasing, “Shorty,” before flipping it open to the most recent page. A loose sheet fell out, the alphabet carefully written out and a series of dots and dashes beneath it. On the bound page, sentences were spelled out, once again connected by dashes and dots. “Hiromi, are you... talking to the other flats via Morse code?”

“No! ...Maybe.”

“Fear me, fear me, who dare disturbs my rest?” Haru read, flipping further through the notebook and discovering whole conversations carefully converted into Morse code and back. “I come for vengance - I mean, honestly, is this the best you can do? Also, that is not how  you spell ‘vengeance.’”

The lights began flickering, and Hiromi snatched back the book in Haru’s inattention. “Shush, let me see what they’re saying back.”

“Hiromi Kasumi Tomoko, are you pretending to haunt someone’s flat?”

“No...?” Hiromi’s nose wrinkled in concentration as she translated the light’s flicking into words, a wide grin revealing the success of her deception. The lights stabilised and she grinned up at Haru. “Okay, maybe a little bit.”

“Hiromi, you are a terrible, terrible person.”

“Aw, you say the nicest things.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Uh... a week?”

“Hiromi!”

“Hey, they started it! They’re the ones who were trying to communicate in Morse code to appease the ‘spirit on the other side;’ I just responded. What else was I meant to do?”

“Ignore it?” Haru offered. “Tell them the truth? Not pretend to be a ghost?”

“Okay, sure, but where’s the fun in that?” Hiromi tapped at the page, thinking. “Maybe we should tell them that the ghost cannot rest until they do something to appease it. Like sing the entirety of Mamma Mia, or meow for a day, or--”

Haru yanked the book away. “That’s enough of that.”

“Oh come on, Haru--”

“You are not going to prank some complete stranger! I’m sure it’s hilarious, but there’s probably some poor idiot hyperventilating and googling exorcist rates right now, so just come clean and tell them--”  

The lights turned off. And on. And off.

A persistent, almost aggressive pattern began to emerge. 

“H-Hiromi? What are they saying?”

“Uh, give me my notebook and I’ll tell you.”

Haru numbly passed it across. 

On. Off. On. Pause. Off. On. Off. 

“A. R. L. I. A. R. L. I. A. R. L. I,” Haru translated. “Arli? Iarl? What’s that? I don’t--”

Haru leant across, barely taking her eyes off the light, and scrawled, “Liar,” onto the page.

“Oh.”

“I’m guessing they’ve finally clued in,” Haru said. “I wonder what made them realise...”

The pattern changed, and Hiromi frantically copied out the newly-forming letters. She gave a funny squeak.      

“Hiromi?”

“I am the ghost,” Hiromi read in a wheezing sort of voice. “Fear me.”    

“Oh, for...” Haru slammed to her feet, grabbing her shoes and making a beeline for the door. 

“Haru, don’t leave me with the ghost!”

“It’s not a ghost, Hiromi; someone is just paying your trick back at you and I’m going to find out who.” She raised her phone. “I’m going to stand in the car park and see if I can spot the other flat - or flats - we’re battling with. You stay here and keep the light show going if it starts to stop - as long as it’s unique, I should be able to pin them down. We’re going to solve this tonight.”

x

From what Haru could see, there were two other apartments that shared their ‘haunted’ light show, and the first one they located greeted them with twin screams and the sound of something shattering when they knocked. 

Haru raised an eyebrow at Hiromi in an admonishing ‘I hope you’re pleased with yourself’ fashion. 

For her part, Hiromi did look fairly amused. 

Haru knocked again, and this time she heard frantic scrabbling to the door and several inventive curses. Eventually the door swung open and two men stood in the doorway. They were built of opposites; one tall, dark, and build like a stick, wearing a NASA t-shirt, and the other round and light-skinned, and wearing a sports jersey that had an indistinguishable team or - come to that - sport. 

There was the stench of incense from inside, and both were wearing a comical assortment of crosses, crucifixes, and other wards around hteir necks. The larger one had a string of garlic on top of all that. 

“Are yer the exorcists?” he asked. 

Haru glared at Hiromi in her best ‘look what you’ve done’ manner. “No, but--”  

“Then now ain’t a good time,” he said and shut the door. 

Haru slammed her foot into the gap before the man could finish the task, and attempted her best winning smile. “We, um - that is, my friend has an apology to make.”

The large man narrowed his eyes. “Why? Did she kill the ghost that’s haunting us?”

“Don’t be stupid,” the tall man reprimanded. “The ghost said she died a 100 years ago - her murderer would be long gone by now.” He frowned. “Unless...”

Haru’s winning smile faltered.

“She’s also a ghost!” the first man yelped. He thrust a crucifix in their direction, vigorously crossing himself. Hiromi looked liked she was fighting the urge to collapse with laughter.

Haru pushed her aside before Hiromi could lose that particular fight. “Look, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You’re not haunted.”

“Tell that to our flat!”

“There’s been a mistake with the main light system,” Haru barrelled on, very aware she was fast in danger of losing her nerve, “which seems to have caused some of the switches in different flats to link up. So, uh, when we turn on our light, it turns on yours too, and vice versa...”

Both men stared at her and Haru wondered how good her chances were of outrunning them. Maybe she didn’t need to be that fast... just faster than Hiromi... 

Then the tall one rounded on his flatmate. “I told you there’d be a scientific explanation!”

“Yeah, well I didn’t hear you complaining when I bought the crucifixes!”

“I should never have listened to you!”

“I didn’t ask yer to!”

“It’s your fault our apartment stinks of incense and garlic now!”

“I’m not the one who’s been parading round as a ghost for a week!”

“That... is a good point.”

Both men simultaneously remembered their visitors, and Haru gulped. She firmly steered Hiromi into their main line of sight. “My friend has some apologising to do.”

Hiromi grinned weakly, and waved. “Hello.”

“You!”

“You’re the one who’s been messing with our light?!”

“Unintentionally, at first,” Hiromi said. 

“And after?” the tall one asked. 

Hiromi hesitated. “Maybe have been slightly less unintentional.”

“And even now, yer still at it?” the larger one demanded, waving a hand to the flashing lights. 

“Um... that’s not me.”

“And why should we believe you?”

Hiromi and Haru both pointed across the corridor, to where corresponding flickering lights, perfectly in time with the men’s flat, could be seen flashing beneath the door of another apartment. “Meet culprit number two,” Haru said. 

“Okay, that’s fairly convincing,” the taller man admitted. He sighed and offered a hand. “I’m Toto, and the mountain beside me is Muta.”

“Oi, don’t go giving our names to the fake ghosts, birdbrain!”

“Hiromi, Haru,” Haru introduced. She took the hand. “Sorry about the prank.”

“Even if it was hilarious,” Hiromi added. 

Haru rolled her eyes for Toto to see. “Hiromi, don’t make he revoke your baking privileges.” 

“Right. Shutting up.”

Conversation was brought to an abrupt halt as Muta cannon-balled past them and up to the final door of the light show. He hammered at it. “Hey, open up!” he roared. “We know what you’ve been doing!”

Haru raised an eyebrow at Toto. “Your friend’s subtle.”

“This is one of his good days,” Toto replied. He marched up to his flatmate and, apparently undaunted by Muta’s self-righteous ire, grabbed his fist before it could make progress through the door. “Hey, perhaps we shouldn’t go breaking down doors in a brand new apartment complex, maybe? Or do you really just have fluff for brains?”

“At least I don’t have my head in the clouds, birdbrain.”

“That’s rich, coming from--”

“Can I help you?”

The door had opened, and a man with an English accent, ginger hair, and the brightest green eyes Haru had ever seen stood in the opening. He wore a red waistcoat over a white shirt, the latter with the sleeves rolled up. And with a mug of tea clasped in one hand, he didn’t exactly look like the prank mastermind that Haru had been expecting. 

Muta seemed to have no such second-thoughts. “You!” he bellowed. “You’re the ghost!”

The man blinked, and blush rose up alongside his freckles.

Okay, so maybe he was less innocent than he looked. “Oh.”

“What do you have to say for yerself?!”

The man looked at the small crowd before him, and smiled sheepishly. 

“...Do you want some tea?”

[in-class-daydreams]

Parlay | (Kuroo x Reader) | Chapter 6

- Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (ft. Roommate Kenma)

Word Count: ~1,600

Genres: Fluff, angst if you squint, general buffoonery

CW: Swearing, mention of intoxication, more secondhand embarrassment

Summary: (Y/N), a first-year student attending Tokyo U, is living with her best friend, Kozume Kenma. Little did she know, her life would be turned upside down after being exposed to Kenma’s volleyball teammate and close friend, Kuroo Tetsurou. One wrong move, and the parlay’s stakes only get higher each time.

Chapters: First | Previous | Next

With Oikawa on the court, and with the opposing team so unprepared for him changing the team’s dynamic, the whistle blew soon enough and Tokyo U had secured their victory. The team lined up in front of their school’s spectator section and said their thanks. (Y/N) noticed Kuroo’s eyes roaming the stands as if he were searching for someone. Stating they had a history exam in the morning, Shusei and Tamaki said their goodbyes, though not without Shusei lamenting not getting to meet ‘them hotties’ with (Y/N).

“Kenma! You were so cool today!” The setter caught her in his arms when she nearly tackled him outside the locker room. She continued poking fun at him as he blushed and looked away.

“Hey, hey, hey, who’s this cutie?” the eccentric spiker from before came up to them with the Pretty Number 6 beside him. Kenma sighed at his loudness.

“(Y/N), this is Bokuto Kotarou and Akaashi Keiji.”

(Y/N) bowed, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Both of you played beautifully today.” Akaashi thanked her politely for the compliment while Bokuto struck a power pose.

“Oya, you’re Kenma’s friend? You wanna come get drinks with the team after this?” Bokuto asked. (Y/N) shook her head in embarrassment at the idea of spending time drinking with a group of guys.

“Oh no, I couldn’t intrude on a team event. You guys should celebrate your victory together as a team, not with some spectator,” she protested.

“Please, you wouldn’t be intruding,” Akaashi spoke up. God, even his voice was pretty, “The event isn’t so exclusive. We’d love to have you.” No one can really resist a request from the pretty setter, so (Y/N) reluctantly agreed.

“All right! The cutie is coming to our party!” Bokuto leaned in, “But don’t think I’m reducing you to ‘cutie’, and please don’t hesitate to tell me if any of my nicknames for you make you uncomfortable.”

(Y/N) smiled at his sweet words and told him he’d done nothing to make her feel unsafe. He gave her a grateful smile in return. The sound of squealing reached her ears once more, signifying a certain someone’s appearance.

“Ah, and who might this cutie be?” the newcomer asked teasingly, holding out a hand for her to shake, “It’s been a while since our court was graced by a girl so pretty~”

Playing along, (Y/N) took his proffered hand, which he turned and brought up towards his lips. Iwaizumi’s large hand came into view when it smacked into the Oikawa’s face.

“Stop being greasy!” he scolded.

“But Iwa-chan, it’s just (Y/N)-chan!” Oikawa whined.

“I don’t care. Don’t flirt with girls that way. It’s not classy.”

“He’s right, Tooru. Your charms have gotten a bit cheesy since we last saw each other.”

“Ehhh? (Y/N)-chan, how could you say that?!”

By then, Kuroo was freshly showered, and ready to have a drink and relax. Exiting the locker room, he saw (Y/N) surrounded by his teammates.

“(Y/N)-chan, how could you say that?!” he heard Oikawa cry. (Y/N)-chan… -Chan? -CHAN?? Did she and Crappykawa know each other somehow? He frowned at the way she giggled at the brunette’s antics because… because she was flirting with him right in front of Kenma, of course! But, man, Kenma didn’t look concerned at all. In fact, he looked completely relaxed. Kuroo wondered if there was something he was missing.

~~

“Sksksksk.”

“I’m tiktok famous!”

“Bitch lasagna~”

“WHAT ARE YOUUUUUUUU?!?! AN IDIOT SANDWICH???”

“AN IDIOT CHEF MAKES FOR AN IDIOT SANDWICH!!!!”

“Apple bottom jeans.”

“Boots with the jeans.”

“Shawty got jeans, jeans, jeans--”

“No, it’s ‘SHAWTY IMMA PARTY ‘TIL THE SUNDOWN’”

“Uhmmm nooooo….it’s ‘yo nice skirt’ get it right sksksks.”

Ah, boys. They are an enigma. College guys were just tall 8 year olds with muscles and student debt. Drinks was being hosted by the tall, intimidating, taciturn spiker that introduced himself politely as Ushijima Wakatoshi. The man in question was lounging near the minibar. The apartment was clean and modern, if not somewhat minimalistic.

Bokuto and Nishinoya, the energetic libero she’d met upon arrival, were somehow already shirtless and… having a flexing match, maybe? (Y/N) wasn’t entirely sure. It hadn’t been 20 minutes since they’d arrived, and (Y/N) had the sinking feeling that both of them were doing this completely sober. To the right of the large studio apartment, Kenma, Kuroo, and Oikawa were playing Pario Marty 8.

“Wahh, I wanted to be Peach!”

“Just be Rosalina!”

“But Tetsu-chaaaan, I wanna be the O.G. badass!”

Akaashi walked up to the counter and sat down beside her. He offered her a drink, which she declined, saying Iwaizumi was bringing her one. Settling into his seat, Akaashi followedr her line of sight to the group of idiots yelling at each other across the room.

“They’re always so loud like this. I’m not sure why,” he sighed.

Iwaizumi appeared to (Y/N)’s left and sat down as well. “Probably because they share one tiny brain cell between the two of them. Kenma has his own that he refuses to share.”

(Y/N) thanked him for the drink he handed her. Amused, she asked, “A whole brain cell? How many do those two have, then?” She gestured to the shotgunning challenge Bokuto and Noya were having.

“Zero,” her companions said in unison. The three of them laughed. They made small talk together about their majors, the match they played earlier, the tea house. (Y/N) thoroughly enjoyed the pretty setter’s company as well as getting to spend time with Hajime-kun again. Despite the overall chaos in the room, there was a certain warmth that came from spending time as a group like this.

“So it’s only 12:30 and Kuroo’s overly competitive ass has had EIGHT drinks already, right?” Bokuto had come down from his adrenaline high, humbled by his tragic loss to his much smaller opponent, and the owl-haired boy was content with embarrassing his his close friend, “Bro thinks he’s just tearing it up on the dance floor, but by then he was just kinda swaying a little, but it’s all good because he’s hot (no homo), and this group of college girls is in a booth makin’ eyes at him because, again, even if he’s deliriously drunk, he’s still hot as funk (no homo times two). Eventually, one of the girls struts over - all confidence and long legs and dang - anyway, they flirt a bit, and he gets invited to their table (tfti). I end up sitting at the bar and getting a drink, and when I look over, my boy is sloooowly leaning in, and I’m like, ‘Okay, Tetsu, get it!’ The girl’s friends had left the booth the give them a little privacy, but they’re still kinda watching from afar because, friends, yanno, and the girl has her eyes closed and she is ready for this kiss aaaaand...” Bokuto stopped for dramatic effect. “Homeboy misses her face entirely and faceplants into the table, dead asleep.”

His audience erupts in laughter and the wild-haired boy’s expense. Speak of the devil, as he walks up right as Kenma is starting his own story.

“At lunch today, (Y/N) was taking his order and--”

“DON’T TELL PEOPLE ABOUT THAT!” Kuroo screamed in horror. His teammates laughed even harder. Enjoying catching their scheming teammate off-guard, they pressed harder.

“What did you do, Tetsu-chan? Did you get lost in (Y/N)-chan’s eyes?”

“I bet he did that ugly laugh and scared her off.”

“Maybe he flirted too hard and got slapped.”

They took turns smacking Kuroo on the back, making the boy bury his head in his arms. He felt a smaller, softer hand, not like any of his teammates large, beefy hands, running its fingers through his hair. The tension in his shoulders immediately dissipated until he realized that only a few people had hands that gentle and only one who would actually comfort him right now.

‘(Y/N), I appreciate the thought right now, but if you keep touching me, I’m going to dIE,’ he screamed internally. His teammates ended up dragging (Y/N) away from him to play some sort of game he wasn’t really listening to the name of. As those delicate fingertips faded away from his scalp, he looked up discreetly to find (Y/N) already looking at him. 

She gave him a smile, that smile he was beginning to see whenever he closed his eyes. He smiled back, but his eyes dropped to where hers and Oikawa’s hands were intertwined. The (Y/N) Kuroo had been spending time with as of late didn’t seem like that kind of person, but he knew men could be sharks, and he needed to make sure he wasn’t one of them. 

For the sake of Bro-Code, and for the sake of Kenma’s relationship, Kuroo decided he had to really try to distance himself from her. 

He had to, before he found himself in too deep.

~~

(A/N): Hello everyone!! Things will start to take a turn that will make you wanna slap Kuroo through the screen...but for those of you who are Oikawa stans (I am too), we’re planning an Oikawa x Reader as well :) Once again, thanks for all the support it really means a lot to us! See you soon!

- Admin Kiwi-Chan 030

Friends and Best Friends help you out when you’re drunk, but only best friends expose your ass afterwards. Hope you enjoyed!

- Admin Mango-Chan

~~

Taglist: @joyful-jimin @nekomas-kuroo

[nxrthmizu]

How about writing a Hiro x Tadashi fic with prompts 2, 3, 4, 5, 11, 15, 18, 28, and 29? I'll understand if you won't do it for any reason, not a problem 🙂

Prompt(s): Cuddling, Rainy day, On a date, Stealing each other’s clothes, Watching the other sleep, Feeling lonely, ‘Pretending to be a couple and this is a big mistake’ AU, Height differences.

Pairing:

A/N: Sorry it took so long~ Enjoy! [I really hope I incorporated all the prompts...]

- Cady

—

Rain pattered on quietly outside the bakery as Hiro typed furiously into his laptop, working non-stop to try and find that one error he made in the configuration of his new robot programming. Tadashi watched, amused as his brother huffed in frustration, unable to find the mistake in his work.

“Stop laughing!” Hiro complained, overhearing his brother’s chuckles, swinging around his chair to face his brother, who was standing in the middle of the garage that had been re-designed to become Hiro’s little ‘lab’.

“You need a break.” The older of the two proclaimed, shaking his head as he eyed the frown on his little brother’s face. “Hey- Are you wearing my sweater?” Tadashi accused, noticing how the fabric was clearly three sizes bigger than Hiro’s tiny frame. A blush flitted over the messy-haired boy as he was found guilty.

Hiro pouted. “They’re comfortable to work in!” He protested, reasoning with his brother. “Besides, you have tons others just like this…”

“That does not mean you can steal them!” Tadashi refuted, crossing his arms, pretending to be angry. It was fun to watch his brother fumble for a reason, but at last he burst out in a laugh, relishing in the embarrassed look that crossed the younger’s face as he realised he had been played. “Come on.” Tadashi grinned, ruffling Hiro’s hair as he dragged the younger boy away from his swivel chair and laptop. “I know what will make you feel better.”

“I feel very well, thank you.” Hiro replied dryly, still getting dragged nonetheless. “Where are we going?”

Tadashi turned to look at him with sparkling eyes. “We’re going on a date!”

—

San Fransokyo flew by in a thousand neon colours as the train buzzed through the city, weaving between buildings on the rail. Due to Hiro’s shorter stature, he was forced to hold onto his brother’s arm as he couldn’t reach the handhold provided for standing passengers. Tadashi had that smug, amused grin that he always wore when their height difference was accented by Hiro’s inability to reach high objects, which, for your information, did nothing to soothe Hiro’s already-sour-mood.

“Where are we going anyway?” He grumbled.

“You’ll see~” His brother replied, drawing out his voice in a sing-song voice. An elderly woman, who was sitting in front of them, watched the two in amusement.

Hiro grumbled sourly. “Come on, Dashi! I could be figuring out the mistake in my program by now…” Seeing the crestfallen expression on his brother’s face, he sighed. “Okay, I guess I do need a break,” He admitted, marvelling at how fast Tadashi changed his expression is to a beaming one. “But how many stations do we need to go by?!”

“Err…” Tadashi smiled meekly. “At least 15 more…”

A groan reverberated from the younger boy’s throat as he slammed his head against his older brother’s chest, nearly losing his balance when the train turned a sharp corner. Tadashi caught him by his hoodie, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and holding him close to his chest, making the younger of the two blush and continue grumbling incoherently.

—

“Tada!”

Tadashi was beaming as he gestured to a modern, robot-themed coffee shop that they had to travel seventeen stations for. “So…?” He was practically jumping around as Hiro stared, baffled. “They have a really good discount too, it’s-”

It was only then that Tadashi realised what his younger brother was gaping at. He wasn’t wrong about the discount- There was a giant, pink sign advertising the 50% discount that would be taken off couples.

“That… Promotion?” Hiro cleared his throat dryly, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “Well, since we came this far, we might as well try the cafe but I don’t think we’re getting the promotio-”

“Hi! Are you two a couple? Come straight in!” A lady dressed in a grey apron and very upbeat, robot-themed waitress dress greeted them as she pushed the door open. She smiled brightly. “Well? What are you waiting for? It’s 50% off for couples!”

Tadashi gave his brother a wide grin, resulting in Hiro groaning loudly internally. “Yep! We’re totally a couple.” Tadashi grinned, lying horribly through his teeth. “Let’s go, Hiro.”

After they’d settled down and admired the tech-y decor of the cafe, they were handed two menus, which piqued both their interests. Tadashi immediately flipped towards the cake section while Hiro browsed through the chocolate and cookies section.

“I’d- Uh- Like the chocolate milkshake. And butter cookies.” Hiro added, flipping through the menu. “Tadashi wants a cup of hot lavender tea and a red velvet cake.”

The waitress nodded attentively, smiling warmly at the siblings couple. “Your order will be here shortly.”

Tadashi thanked the waitress with a kind smile, but as soon as her back was turned, he gave a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat. “We totally convinced them that we’re a couple!” He said, oddly delighted.

A drink and a desert later, the two were sighing in satisfaction as their stomachs murmured their agreements at the good food. “Let’s get home before Aunt Cass starts worrying.” Hiro mumbled, not wanting to hear his aunt yell at him and then ‘stress eat’ donuts again. The sun had started to retire outside, letting the neon signboards take over keeping the city lit. Overhead, the moon watched over her city, her glow protecting those that were astray.

Rain begin to fall onto the glowing city of San Franksokyo as Hiro and Tadashi boarded the reverse train that was going back to the station that was a few minutes’ walk from their home. The passengers of the late train was generally less than the afternoon train they had taken on their forward trip, so the two found a quiet seat in the back of the train as it buzzed through the city.

Hiro yawned, feeling his eyelids fluttering close. As if Tadashi was an oppositely-charged magnet, Hiro was instantly attracted to lying his head on the taller of the two, slowly slipping into slumber. The rumble of the train was soothing, vibrations trickling down through your spine as it lured you into giving in to exhaustion. Lines of code swept past Hiro’s brain as he dreamt quietly of finally discovering the error he made in his twenty-paged programming.  

—

[Oh my god I had so much fun with this I hope you’re happy with it!!! Thanks for the request, sorry it took sooooo long, my life is the dimension of chaos :D ]

- Cady 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

20 years of blogging at Boing Boing

Twenty years ago today, Boing Boing became a blog. Mark Frauenfelder's first post linked to Street Tech, a now-dormant gadget blog. Now there are 160,000 more posts just like it and the impossible task of summarizing the best of them in yet another.

Founded as a print zine in 1988 by Mark and Carla Sinclair, Mark's personal retrospective posted earlier today is a must-read; following are a few of our greatest hits, proudest accomplishments, clickiest traffic monsters, and best features of all time.

Despite the tens of millions of words in our database – mostly wonderful things – it's oftentimes the shortest posts that get the most attention.

So it was with Xeni Jardin's Ralph Lauren opens new outlet store in the Uncanny Valley, a single-sentence reblog of a now-vanished post at another site highlighting the incompetently dysmorphic photomanipulations in one of the fashion house's ads.

Ralph Lauren tried to force us to remove the post, to no avail.

That wasn't our first rodeo, either. In 2008, were were sued by MagicJack, makers of a VoIP dongle, after criticizing its terms of service. We stood our ground and beat them in court. Ten years later, Playboy sued us for posting about someone else's uploaded cover collection, claiming that linking to things is a form of copyright infringement. We beat them too, with the help of able friends at the Electronic Frontier Foundation.

It's not all law and chaos, though.

Mark Frauenfelder says he's most proud of his two-part series on the fortified residential mailboxes of Los Angeles, Survival of the fittest mailbox and Fortified mailboxes, part 2. Readers, though, say his greatest gift to the world of letters is the gentlemen of Boing Boing.

A trilogy of Cory Doctorow's most incisive writing on technology, policy and freedom is found in Lockdown, based on his keynote speech to the Chaos Computer Congress in 2011, The Coming Civil War over General Purpose Computing, and Anodyne Anonymity. Also, would you just look at that banana. Furthermore, Christ, what an asshole.

David Pescovitz is a collector of unpopular culture with an affinity for haunted ontology, mall nostalgia and cryptids (more!, with a Grammy on the shelf for his part in reissuing the Voyager Golden Record.

But it's his touching obituary for Mark, his older brother, that will not be forgotten.

Xeni Jardin's posted countless articles about cutting-edge tech and light-hearted nods to the wonders of the web, and more seriously about politics, but it's her writing about cancer, hers and others', that sticks with readers. The Diagnosis; When life hands you cancer, make cancer-ade; Obamacare saved my life; Cancer and cannabis: How I learned to stop worrying and love medical marijuana; A medal for completing breast cancer treatment; and We should be worried that science has not yet brought us closer to understanding cancer.

Rob Beschizza's The Weird of Wendy Pini profiles one of America's most successful women cartoonists. His random generators include the Psygnosis Game Generator, the North Korean Press Release Generator and the Audiophile Hardware Review Generator. (For those who don't revile them, Rob's disturbing mouth-eyed politician shoops are collected in the gallery item Corinthian Leather). Fissure opens in Chess AI scene is a deep dive into a code-plagiarism scandal. He once reviewed a loaf of snot.

He eulogized his mother, Mandy Johnson, in 2016.

Did you know Boing Boing publisher Jason Weisberger was namechecked in a saucy romance novel?

Jason has also written obituaries for his close friends Molly, Lucy, Calliope and Nemo.

We published critical games writing under the aegis of Offworld, edited by Leigh Alexander: All the women I know in video games are tired and Why Silent Hill mattered. Zoë Quinn's call to creative arms, Punk Games, remains as relevant now as it was five years ago.

Laura Hudson's Women take a place at the pinball table is a deep look at a unique competetive area, complemented by her excellent reviews of games as different as Undertale — choose to kill monsters or understand them — and Bloodborne — In Bloodborne's brutal world, I found myself.

Our longtime science editor Maggie Koerth-Baker's analysis of the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster was featured in the anthology The Best Science Writing Online 2012. Don't miss her profile of James Watson, either.

Though known for chaingun blogging, we pioneered the trend toward Fancy Lookin' Features on the web, such as Maggie's Cassini Trip Reset, highlighting the astonishing imagery from NASA's probe, and Rob Beschizza's Friendly Darkness in the Palace of Utopian Fantasy, linking rare threads of modern and Victorian fantasy.

Here's just a few more of the nice features we've published over the years:

1906: Vintage Photographs by Mike Shaughnessy Leaking Secrets, leaking Blood by Raul Gutierrez Death in Space, by Maggie Koerth-Baker Ghost Babies, by Mark Dery A Season in Hell, by Mark Dery Hajj for Heathens, by Omar Chatriwala Maps, by Simon Parkin

Other guests are too many to mention – there are more than five hundred contributors in our archives now – but they account for many of our finest posts. Among the best are Sawyer Rosenstein's Don't tell me the sky is the limit when there are footprints on the moon and the many annual iterations of David Ng and Ben Cohen's Halloween Candy Hierarchy.

Glenn Fleishman's Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto is typeset in the then-new Google typeface it was about, and What it's like to be on Jeopardy is about his brief but impressive stint on the game show.

Unseen World War I photos: German Trenches reveals a unique collection of photographs inherited by Dean Putney, our longtime developer, from his great-grandfather Walter Koessler.

Carl Malamud is well-known for Liberating America's secret, for-pay laws, and we're immensely proud to have helped him make his stand.

We've also published loads of fiction over the years, including our own, such as Cory's By His Things Will You Know Him and The Man Who Sold The Moon, Jason's Kevin's List, and Rob's Mixtape of the Lost Decade, Such Bravery and Nomen Ludi.

Finally, here are our top traffic posts since we started counting: a master key for winning at blogging. But only if you have a time machine, because the web, as they say, is dead.

1. Nigerian astronaut lost in space

2. Rickrolling is sexist, racist and often transphobic in context

3. 'To Donald Trump,' by Leland Melvin, former NASA Astronaut and NFL Player

4. 16-year-old girl who took nude selfie photos faces adult sex charges

5. Campus rapist given lenient sentence to avoid "severe impact on him"

6. Man stole $122m from Facebook and Google by sending them random bills, which the companies dutifully paid

7. Climate change denier Rupert Murdoch just bought National Geographic, which gives grants to scientists

8. Trump is angry at NBC News for using this photo of him, so please don't use this enhanced, enlarged version of it for anything

9. I'm married. I'm a woman. I'm addicted to porn.

10. For sale: (1) California ghost town

https://boingboing.net/2020/01/21/20-years-of-blogging-at-boing.html

[happymetalgirl]

March 2020

Wow, March seems like such a bygone era, time doesn’t mean anything anymore with so much turned upside down (especially in the music industry) in the throes of the pandemic going on right now. One of those things was me losing my punctuality with this blog. While I haven’t been on top of my writing, I have certainly been listening as much as ever, with plenty to talk about this month, so better late than never I suppose. Here are the albums I listened to during March.

Code Orange - Underneath

I just wrote about the Pittsburgh metalcore juggernauts’ highly anticipated fourth full-length, but I’ll summarize again what led me say that Underneath is a good album, but not as good as the breakthrough album whose high bar this album was always going to have a hard time clearing. The band go all in on the industrial elements that accented Forever on Underneath, as well as push their luck on the more melodic, alternative metal-oriented hardcore tracks, which came with some growing pains, the latter more than the former. And I really think that they probably are just growing pains with the band getting more comfortable with this expansion of their sound, which (contrary to what the many zealous 10/10 reviews are saying) I think the band will get significantly better with if they keep this trajectory going into their next album.

8/10

Body Count - Carnivore

I really have tried to focus on the positive aspects of Body Count’s music, the fearless, topical, confrontational lyricism and the capacity the band has to generate a good hardcore breakdown, but the band really do seem to be unable to get out of this one-dimensional rut they’re stuck in, with Carnivore simply a few shovels deeper in. The band’s appeal tires very quickly with Ice-T’s recycling of lyrical themes and his band’s repetitions of generic hardcore tropes. They come through with a few moments of intensity, a sick breakdown or two, but the positive, hopeful moments are too few and far between. I would think that with not a whole lot of competition and a hip hop icon behind the microphone that Body Count would have the capacity to do more for rap metalcore, but they seem stuck in a cycle I do respect the stances Body Count takes against injustice, and I want them to be a more prominent, important voice in metal, but they have some climbing to do to get there.

4/10

My Dying Bride - The Ghost of Orion

The grand masters of gothic death-doom don’t ever really steer too far off course, rather they sometimes just take their foot off the gas, as they do on The Ghost of Orion. It has all the elements of any beautifully melancholic My Dying Bride album; the slow and burgeoning guitars, the downtrodden vocal melodies juxtaposed with bursts of growled anguish, and the melodrama of vibrato-laden strings; but it’s all arranged and conjured without much tangible passion or pain. That’s by the standard of the band’s pretty solid discography though, so with that considered, it’s by no means a terrible death-doom album, it just won’t be converting anybody or getting anyone more excited about My Dying Bride and death-doom.

6/10

Warp Chamber - Implements of Excruciation

Brutal death metal can often seem pretty one-dimensional, and it often is, but in the hands of a band who really has the ambition to make more of it than just some guttural rumblings from all the instruments involved, the genre can really take on a wholy new monstrous form, its horrific, deathly instrumentation heightened by the melody and the compositional nuance that a competent band can bring to it, and that is exactly what Warp Chamber do on their debut album here. Full of cavernous growls and ceaseless low-register battery, it can seem, at face value like just a regular brutal death metal album, but when the band starts breaking out the winding tangents and manic solos that, again, just heighten the chaos and compliment the brutality. It’s more than just regular-ass death metal, and I’m glad to have heard this debut. I hope Warp Chamber has more in store.

8/10

Loathe - I Let It in and It Took Everything

Do you love Deftones? Maybe you do. I do. But I don’t think either of us love Deftones as much as Loathe loves Deftones. I’m goofing right now, but Loathe really do channel their Deftones fandom real hard when they’re not in full hardcore mode or getting eccentric with the segues on this album. And it does offer a great combination of styles, with angular, low-tuned modern metalcore noise riffage juxtaposed pretty strongly against the gauzy shoegaze that immediately hearkens to that facet of Deftones’ music. The band struggle to get the flow just right on certain songs and across the album in general, with some pretty inconsistent songwriting, but it’s definitely outweighed by its still somehow immersive quality and the strength of the individual pieces going into it.

7/10

Earth Rot - Black Tides of Obscurity

The Australian band brings forth some more of the tried and true modern death metal a la Bloodbath, Carnation, and modern Cannibal Corpse, but with enough eerie, blackened oddity throughout the songs to keep the journey from being too homogenous. It’s these moments that both give extra life to the bludgeoning, but at-times basic, modern death metal the band is conjuring and kind of disrupt the flow of that muscly death metal. At times I do wish the band would chose to focus one or the other more exclusively, but if this pushes Earth Rot further into this kind of stylistically ambitious death metal, I appreciate the stepping stone this album acts as.

7/10

Myrkur - Folksange

After riding a pretty strong wave of critical adoration for her contribution to the growing wave of atmospheric black metal that culminated in the respectably sonically unique Mareridt in 2017, Myrkur’s Amelie Bruun has taken a step back to refocus or recalibrate artistically. As the title suggests, Folksange finds its creator rewarding herself for her contributions to black metal with a return to her love of Scandinavian folk music, and you can tell she loves it on this entirely folk-music-based project devoid of any black metal elements. I may not have been as head-over-heels as a lot of critics were about her black metal albums, but I certainly appreciated her folk-inspired ambient take on the genre, especially the unique sonic pallet of Mareridt. I liked those albums quite a bit, yet it is clear that the sound on Folksange is her forte, which makes sense if Scandinavian folk has been a longer-standing passion than black metal for Bruun. The instrumentation is absolutely beautiful and Bruun’s angelic voice fits so perfectly with it, but Folksange is more than just superficially aesthetically gorgeous. The songs (old and original) are written and arranged with such a natural knack for the style that makes it such a serenely enveloping experience that stands as Myrkur’s best work yet. I highly recommend it.

8/10

Old Man Gloom - Seminar IX: Darkness of Being

The famed supergroup’s first of two releases planned for this year after the loss of Caleb Scofield sees them dabbling around in an experimental array of genres that all the members have some sort of significant experience and specialty with. From post-metal of the sludgy, Isis-esque variety to the more noisily esoteric, Sumac-esque variety, to distinctly post-hardcore-influenced stylistic diversions, the band’s wide-reaching sound takes all sorts of twists and turns along their most recent experiment with the members’ varying pedigrees and influences guiding the music on quite the unusual nomadic trek. From the repetitive chord progression of the opening track to the album’s noisy finishing tracks (one of which features what sounds like rocks tumbling down a shaft of some sort for an extensive period of time), the band let their adventurers’ instincts guide them as they wander through their own experiment through the interplay of their members’ various styles. It’s weird, and not super polished, but it’s certainly fixating.

7/10

Candlemass - The Pendulum

After further cementing their relatively unchallenged status as the kings of epic doom metal with The Door to Doom about a year ago, Candlemass have offered up a quick little demo-focused EP with one new fleshed-out song, the title track, which takes them to the faster, more Dio-era-inspires side of their sound with the grand, soaring operatic vocals on the chorus and the relatively fast (by doom standards) guitar rhythms on the verses (think “Paranoid” or “Children of the Grave’). I love the very Dio-esque delivery of the word “fools” at the end too, very fitting. The demo track “Snakes of Goliath” slows it back down to Ozzy-era Sabbath worship in typical Candlemass fashion, the riffs and arrangement pretty respectable for a supposed demo track. The other full-length demo, “Porcelain Skull”, by contrast, does feel much less compositionally fleshed out and more like an actual demo piece. The other three demo tracks are just little instrumental studio doodles that don’t really add anything to the EP. If this EP could be interpreted as any kind of power move, it’s that Candlemass at demo level have just such a sharp compositional intuition for grand Sabbath doom metal and can pretty much nail it in their sleep.

demo-level 7/10

Igorrr - Spirituality and Distortion

I was definitely looking forward to this album big-time after the gloriously unashamed weirdness of 2017’s Savage Sinusoid filled a massive void I felt was needed in my metal bank. By contrast, Spirituality and Distortion is such a reserved project it feels either shy or cowardly from the usually hyper-eccentric band. The greater absence of the vocals of Laurent Lunoir on the album highlight also just how much character he brought to Savage Sinusoid through his zany performances. Without his vocal wildness across the album, the attention on Spirituality and Distortion is then directed to the significantly timid production and electronic finagling that doesn’t measure up to that of Savage Sinusoid.

6/10

In This Moment - Mother

*Sigh* In This Moment is one of those bands who I think really do show a lot of potential but just can’s seem to reach it. They get a lot of unnecessary shit for Maria Brink’s sexy stage presence and generally theatrical aesthetic and live show, but they do have the capacity to produce emotive alt metal ballads like “Whore” and bangers like “Big Bad Wolf” that give some insight into what heights they could potentially reach if they were much more consistent. I was hoping that Mother would be a solid rejuvenation/comeback after the benign disappointment of 2017′s Ritual, and while it’s certainly different, it’s not better. Mother really tries to take on this big, enveloping sound, and biblical, post-apocalyptic feel, and it can sort of carry it for a little bit and be temporarily immersive until the band needs to go full force. When it’s just some fancy eerie atmosphere and Maria Brink’s sultry vocal delivery, it holds up okay, but when the horribly synthetically produced arena-booming instrumentation really comes in and breaks that immersion, you remember that it really is all just trite alt rock whose lofty flair is all a facade.

4/10

Mamaleek - Come and See

Undoubtedly the most wildly experimental album to grace my ears so far this year, I was not expecting such a forceful avant-garde project from Mamaleek so relatively soon after Out of Time, but damn I’m glad I got it! The anonymous brotherly duo have always taken black metal on quite the far-off journey whenever they bring it along on one, ever making it their mission to create something one-of-a-kind with their work, and Come and See has to be their most enthralling album yet. Ramming together the transfixing manic anguish of their blackened experimental noise with the angular dynamism of jazz and even some blues rock in a musical particle collider, Mamaleek have made a truly one-of-a-kind album, and that’s even by their standards. I’ve mentioned before that I tend to like my jazz pretty rowdy and aggressive (like my metal), and the chaos that Mamaleek already generates with their brand of black metal is perfect to trim with and infuse with the angular dissonance of traditional jazz at its more energetically extreme. While the array of chaotic sounds may make Come and See their most intangibly black metal album, the ethos of that root genre pierces through by way of the harshly shrieked vocals just as much as the new jazz elements do. I really might just have to do a full-length review on this one because there is so much going on here that is worth admiring and I can’t stop loving it.

9/10

Phalanx - Golden Horde

This album came out a few months ago and has been making some pretty significant waves on Bandcamp, and for good reason. The relatively young band on their second release ever do showcase a pretty good knack for groove and death metal brutality, balancing slow, thick, tasty groove and blasting death metal without falling into metalcore breakdown clichés or death metal clichés. The three-pronged vocal attack the band touts isn’t quite as dazzling as they might think it is (with the abundance of talented vocalists capable of shapeshifting through a variety of metal vocal techniques), but I do think it would be cool to hear them use that approach with all three vocalists acting more simultaneously to more effectively convey the chaos of the war-related lyrical themes they focus on. Nevertheless, this quarter-hour taster is a great starter for them and definitely worth checking out. Hopefully it’s a foreshadowing of the blossoming of a bright new act for death metal.

7/10

Regarde Les Hommes Tomber - Ascension

I’ve been seeing a lot of praise being thrown this album’s way, and I honestly can’t disagree too much with that it is a pretty damn good album. It is very reminiscent of the Numenorean album Adore that I praised so highly last year. Like Adore, Ascension is an atmospheric black metal album that could easily hook your typical dude who hates Deafheaven and blackgaze and makes a really big deal about it. The band’does well on Ascension to avoid the reliance on generic post-rock guitar reverb ambiance that turns so many people off from blackgaze, working together a lot of unique sonic twists that don’t usually find their way into ambient black metal and channeling direct, cutting, yet humanly vibrant instrumentation that’s backed by raw cries of agony very similar to what Numenorean was doing last year. Perhaps this is the new way forward for atmospheric black metal and blackgaze. If so, Regarde Les Hommes Tomber are doing well to lead the way.

8/10

Deadspace - A Portrait of Sacrificial Scars

I already offered my praises to this album at length with my long-form post dedicated to it, but I’ll give it another shout for its brilliant, bittersweet sending off of the seemingly tireless Australian band. Deadspace give their oppressive/depressive sound the added magnitude and glory offered by choir and orchestral elements with more tact than most bands that use those elements regularly. I really am surprised that the band have decided to split up at such a high point in their artistry and I wish there could be more from them, but I have to respect their decision to end it here, and A Portrait of Sacrificial Scars is a great note to end on.

9/10

[seagsfusionshowcase]

anyways here's some random facts abt the rest of the jfcu gang cause I love them

jackie and chases fusion is named Jake cause im creative. he has the biggest teen Spiderman energy out of everyone. hes pretty much the only healthy chase fusion but he is a fucking Disaster

I thought about naming chase/henrik Horrace but I fucking hated it so im still trying to decide on a first name. his last name is brodstein. hes a psychiatrist with schizophrenia. he wears converse sneakers and plays Minecraft in his free time to relax

chase and jj’s fusion is named Charlie :) hes based off that one pic of jack where hes wearing the letterman jacket and fedora and everyone called him a modern jj. I tend to see him as the protagonist in a way (like I imagine everything happening through his perspective) even tho it should definitely be chase/henrik

henrik/anti is absolutely off the shits, 100% feral energy, pure unchecked chaos. his hair sticks up everywhere cause he somehow radiates a lot of static electricity. hes actually very smart and clever, and knows way more than he lets on. I like to call him Adrik

id like everyone to take a moment to consider how fucked up of a fusion Schneep and jj would be. the amount of shit they’ve each gone through, on top of being the only two egos to be canonly violently possessed by anti. ill leave u all with that for now 

schneep/marvin is called Maverik and he is......very cursed. radiates big slav energy. he combines both egos weirdness into one condensed being. definitely very useful but like.....at what cost........

jackie and schneep is named Henry!! hes what we like to call “chaotic lawful.” he has a strict moral code but no one can figure out what the fuck it is. is 100% the ultimate mom fusion

I couldn’t really come up with any coherent names with jackie and anti so I might call him Jasper cause it sounds cool. an important thing to note about him is that he is the only anti fusion that doesn’t identify with being “evil” or “edgy,” he still sees himself as a hero. but don't let that fool you. good and evil both have extremes. he is, probably, the most dangerous fusion possible out of the jse egos. dangerous to the point where the other anti fusions are terrified of him. lets just say that physically, hes the biggest out of everyone, the most intense, and he has a very unique feature to him that makes him stand out of the other antis. 

jackie and jjs fusion is, by far, the most pure good boy out of everyone. he was a cop at one point but he was kicked off the force cause he had a very chaotic moral code and an interesting way to deal with bad guys. he does his best!! he is filled with love and determination!!! he shall stop evil at whatever cost!!! everyone loves him!!!! he is a very good boy!!! 

marvin/jackie is named Javier. he is the big brother and tries his best to take care of everyone (except for the fact that he drops off the face of the planet most of the time). hes sorta like captain marvel. thats all ill say

anti/marvin is like a combination of deceit from sanders sides and mysterio from the new spiderman movie. think about that for a bit. im very excited to really explore his character fully, he is definitely very interesting.

anti/jj is a knockoff bill cipher. thats pretty much all you need to know. also not a lot of them even know that he exists but hey. thinking about calling him jantson

[nadziejastar]

Yen Sid: As a Keyblade Master, Xehanort had a gift like few others. But such great minds are often plagued by a single great question. What is the essence of the human heart that weakens us, or empowers us? The answer, he believed, would be found in the “Keyblade War.” What if the challenges of our past were, in fact, a map to the light and darkness that battles within us all? Xehanort had to know, so he renounced his duties as master and chose the seeker’s life.

I wish we could have learned more about it. It’s a fascinating world and one of my favorites. It’s fantastical, but still modern. I would have liked to see how it got destroyed, how Maleficent took over, and how Cid escaped with the FF gang. I think Radiant Garden was a really special world, like the Land of Departure. It has a strong connection to the Keyblade War, but we might not ever get to learn about all that now. Kairi’s grandma knew about other worlds, which wasn’t common knowledge in the KH universe. Who was Kairi’s grandma, anyways? What was her relationship to Ansem the Wise?

The fairy tale she told Kairi was pretty much a simplified version of the Keyblade War history that Yen Sid told Sora and Riku. Where did she learn about this? Was this just a generic fairy tale, or did she have some kind of special knowledge? Xehanort thought that the Keyblade War was the map to learn about the battle of light and darkness within the human heart.

My efforts these many years have come to fruition, with the world I govern having become a paradise worthy of being called “Radiant Garden." Nurtured by the pure water that is the source of life, fragrant flowers bloom in abundance, and the people face each day with hopeful smiles. But where there is light, darkness also lurks. As noted in my earlier reports, I must solve the mystery of this "darkness of the heart.” This paradise depends on it.

I think Ansem the Wise was so obsessed with the darkness of the heart because he knew about the Keyblade War, too. Maybe that’s why Master Xehanort planned to study under him when he gained Terra as his new vessel.

We are not meant to interfere in the depths of another’s heart, no matter what our reasons for doing so…And my error plunged me into despair.nA visitor from another world soothed my dejected soul. A tiny king named Mickey came wielding a legendary key — the infamous “Keyblade,” said to bring both chaos and prosperity to the world. He was very knowledgeable on many topics, and we deepened our friendship as we conversed companionably.

Asnem the Wise seemed to be aware of the existence of the Keyblade, even before Mickey arrived. He said it was infamous.

Triton: As the key bearer, you must already know… One must not meddle in the affairs of other worlds.

Sora: Of course I know that, but…

Triton: You have violated this principle. The key bearer shatters peace and brings ruin.

It was similar to what King Triton said in KH1.

Xehanort: Master Ansem. Regarding the experiment I presented the other day…With your permission, I’d like to proceed—

Ansem the Wise: I forbid it! Forget this talk of doors, and the heart of all worlds. That place must not be defiled!

Xehanort: But, Master Ansem! I’ve been thinking…

Ansem the Wise: Xehanort…Those thoughts are best forgotten.

As the ruler of the world, Ansem the Wise knew secrets that average people didn’t. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had the means to travel between worlds and connections to many other people outside of Radiant Garden.

My underground research resulted in one new discovery after another. When a Heartless is born, the body and soul left behind are reborn into this world as a different being. They possess different intentions than their Heartless brethren, and while it is unclear what these sentient “things” are after, it would appear they are responsible for much bedlam in the world.

A great number of Nobodies have lost human form, as have the Heartless. Yet the Nobody born of someone with a strong heart retains its shape, with but the faintest visible changes. It appears my betrayers have retained their human forms as Nobodies, and are gathering more followers in hopes of furthering a new scheme.

“Organization XIII,” formed of 13 Nobodies with my betrayers at its core, has divided into two; they are said to be carrying out some sort of research. Seeking to uncover the plans of this Organization, I have decided to head for where six of its members have gathered. Towering over the outer limits of the realm between darkness and light: Castle Oblivion.

That might be why he seemed to be familiar with Twilight Town. Perhaps he had been there before. DiZ did experiments here on Nobodies after he escaped the Realm of Darkness.

Tomorrow Sora awakens. My long and drawn-out revenge is nearing its end. Xehanort, who took everything away from me. Though as a Heartless he is no more, as the leader of Organization XIII his ambition once again is to capture Kingdom Hearts, the most colossal heart of all. His Heartless had attempted to draw out the great darkness of Kingdom Hearts, created from the hearts of all worlds. His Nobody, however, is now almost finished gathering human hearts to be assimilated into Kingdom Hearts as well.

The fool! Only one mystery remains. How did Xehanort manage to open the door that appeared in the basement of my castle…? No…any theory posited now, when everything is nearing completion, would be meaningless. Roxas, Ansem, Naminé…They defy all logic, yet there they are: singular exceptions to the rule. The theories proposed by me and by Organization XIII have been blown to pieces by a handful of strong-hearted individuals.

Sora, Kairi, Riku.Ah, yes—Riku. Though his heart has its weaknesses, making it prone to darkness, he found support in the hope he discovered beyond suffering. This hope allowed him to stand his ground and turn the darkness in his heart from an enemy into his greatest weapon. When all this is over, it is my fervent hope that he will be able to return with Sora to his island. If I can, I should like to return to Radiant Garden, to look once more upon the beautiful water, the lovely flowers, and the hopeful smiles of the people. Dear King, my friend!I believe that, at some point in time, you will come across these, my truthful accounts. How I wish I could have chatted with you again. I was a fool, obsessed with revenge. Forgive me.

He probably had been to this mansion before he was banished. He might have been to the mansion before it became abandoned. The mansion seems to be connected to the Unicornis Union.

“I won’t ask you to forgive me for my foolish obsession with revenge. But at the very least, allow me to express my regret. I was wrong.” Riku stood and turned away again. Naminé nervously watched his tensed shoulders.

“The darkness took advantage of the weakness in you—in your heart. But your indomitable hope kept it at bay,” said Ansem. “You made the darkness your strength, and—”

“Is that all you came here for? To tell me this?” Riku interrupted.

Ansem quietly shook his head. “Naminé, Roxas, and Xemnas… The Nobodies of those with strong hearts are peculiar beings. My—that is, our theories proved fruitless. Coming into contact with a strong heart transforms a world. And not just worlds, but people themselves—and even Nobodies.”

Naminé, head lowered and hand extended with the ice cream for Riku, perked up upon hearing those words.

That’s it… Yes. The mystery of the heart. When we encounter someone special…the world changes. Our hearts change. Everything changes.

What Ansem wrote in that report was very similar to what he was talking about with Riku in the KH2 novel, after DiZ came to the haunted mansion.

The data that Ansem hid inside Sora is a secret related to their resurrection. When Ansem became DiZ and worked from the shadows, he did research on the heart and emotion, but he hid the conclusion of his particular findings inside Sora.

The research that DiZ did on Nobodies was apparently what Nomura was referring to here. He left the results of that research inside Sora’s memories. That’s why Ansem’s code didn’t really make any sense in KH3.

[bk-lostintranslation]

Review: The Bhagavad Gita & Personal Choice

At once a down-to-earth narrative and a multifaceted spiritual drama, the Gita bears a concrete timelessness, with its magnetism lying in the fact that it is a work not of religious dogma, but of personal choice.

For years, the Bhagavad Gita has distinguished itself as a masterpiece of spiritual and philosophical scripture. Beautifully condensing Upanishadic knowledge, the Gita traverses a number of subjects – from duty as a means toward liberation (moksha), to the risks of losing oneself to worldly temptations, to the dichotomy between the lower self (jiva) and the ultimate, eternal Self (atman) – as well as detailing a vast spectrum of human desires, treating them not as one-dimensional abstractions, but as the complex combinatorial dilemmas they are in real life. Written in the style of bardic poems, the Gita bears a concrete timelessness, with its magnetism lying in the fact that it is a work not of religious dogma, but of personal choice. 

Recounting the dialogue between Arjuna, the Pandava warrior-prince, and Lord Krishna, his godling charioteer, the text covers a wide swath of Vedantic concepts which are then left for Arjuna to either follow or reject. This element of personal autonomy, and how it can lead to self-acceptance, environmental mastery and finally the spiritual path to one's true destiny, is an immensely alluring concept for readers today. But Arjuna's positioning is the real crux of the Gita: his conflicts between personal desire and sacred duty are the undercurrent of the tale, and the text offers equally spiritual and practical insights in every nuance.

The Gita begins with two families torn into different factions and preparing for battle. The sage Vyasa, who possesses the gift of divine vision, offers to loan the blind King, Dhritarashtra, his ability so the King may watch the battle. However, Dhritarashtra declines, having no wish to witness the carnage – particularly since his sons, the Kauravas, are arrayed on the battlefield. Instead, the sage confers his powers to Sanjaya, one of Dhritarashtra's counselors, who faithfully recounts the sequence of events as they unfold. From the start, readers' introduction to the Gita is almost sensory, with the battlefield stirred into action by Bhishma, who blows his conch horn and unleashes an uproarious war-frenzy, "conches and kettledrums, cymbals, tabors and trumpets ... the tumult echoed through heaven and earth... weapons were ready to clash." These descriptions serve as marked contrasts to the dialogic exchange that follows between Arjuna and Krishna, which is serene and private in tone, the two characters wearing the fabric of intimate friendship effortlessly as they are lifted out of the narrative, suspended as if in an aether where the concept of time becomes meaningless. 

Arjuna – whose questions carry readers through the text – stands with Krishna in the heart of the battlefield, between the two armies. However, when he sees the enemy arrayed before him, "fathers, grandfathers, teachers, uncles, brothers, sons, grandsons and friends," he falls into the grip of a moral paralysis. His whole body trembles and his sacred bow, Gandiva, slips from his hands. He tells Krishna, "I see omens of chaos ... I see no good in killing my kinsmen in battle... we have heard that a place in hell is reserved for men who undermine family duties." As Jacob Neusner and Bruce Chilton remark in the book, Altruism in World Religions, "To fight his own family, Arjuna realizes, will violate a central tenet of his code of conduct: family loyalty, a principle of dharma." The concept of dharma holds an integral place in Hindu-Vedantic ethos, with Sanatana Dharma (eternal and universal dharma) regarded as a sacred duty applicable to all, and Swadharma (personal and particular dharma) sometimes coming into conflict with the former. It is this inherent contradiction that catalyzes Arjuna's self-doubt. "The flaw of pity blights my very being; conflicting sacred duties confound my reason." 

It is Krishna who must inspire him to fight, through comprehensive teachings in the essentials of birth and rebirth, duty and destiny, action and inertia. There is an allegorical genius here that will appeal tremendously to readers. The military aspects of the Gita can easily serve as metaphors for not just external real-life battles, but internal battles of the self, with the two armies representing the conflict between the good and evil forces within each of us. In that sense, Krishna's advice to Arjuna – the seven-hundred slokas – becomes a pertinent, pragmatic guide to human affairs. With each verse, both Arjuna and the readers are offered perspectives and practices which, if followed, can allow them to achieve a robust understanding of reality. 

With the spiritual underpinnings of the wisdom known as Sankhya, Krishna explains different yogas, or disciplines. Readers slowly begin to encounter all the components of humanity and the universe, through the lens of Arjuna, whose moral and spiritual weltanschauung undergoes a gradual metamorphosis – from, "If you think understanding is more powerful than action, why, Krishna, do you urge me to this horrific act? You confuse my understanding with a maze of words..." to "Krishna, my delusion is destroyed... I stand here, my doubt dispelled, ready to act on your words." 

We are introduced in slow but mesmerizing detail to the wisdom within Arjuna himself; an omniscience that eluded him because it was hidden beneath illusion, or maya. Indeed, Krishna makes it clear that the very essence of maya is to conceal the Self – the atman – from human understanding by introducing the fallacy of separation, luring individuals with the promise that enlightenment springs not from within but from worldly accouterments: in sensual attraction, in the enticements of wealth and power. However, Krishna makes it clear that the realm of the senses, the physical world, is impermanent, and always in flux. Whereas he, the supreme manifestation of the divine and the earthly, the past, present and future, is there in all things, unchanging. "All creatures are bewildered at birth by the delusion of opposing dualities that arise from desire and hatred." 

Although these themes are repeated often throughout the Gita, in myriad ways, not once do they become tiresome. Although Krishna's role in much of the Mahabharata is that of a Machiavellian trickster, invested in his own mysterious agenda, he does eventually reveal himself to Arjuna as the omniscient deity. Yet never once does he coerce Arjuna into accepting his teachings, though they are woven inextricably and dazzlingly through the entirety of the Gita. Rather, he gives Arjuna the choice to sift through layers of self-delusion and find his true Self. This can be achieved neither through passive inertia, nor through power-hungry action, but through the resolute fulfillment of duty that is its own reward. In order to dissolve the Self, the atman, into Brahman and achieve moksha, it is necessary to fight all that is mere illusory temptation. Just as Krishna promises Arjuna, victory is within reach, precisely because as a Kshatriya-warrior, it is his sacred duty – his destiny – to fight the battle. More than that, the desire to act righteously is his fundamental nature; the rest is pretense and self-delusion. "You are bound by your own action, intrinsic to your being ... the lord resides in the heart of all creatures, making them reel magically, as if a machine moved them." 

Although the issues that Arjuna grapples with often become metaphysical speculations, never once does it dehumanize his character. His very conflict between the vacillations of the self and sacred duty assure his position as something greater and more complex than a mere widget fulfilling Krishna's agenda. It is through the essence of Arjuna's conflict that he grows on a personal and spiritual level. Conflict so personal and timeless is inextricably tied to choice. In Arjuna's case, the decision to shed the constraints of temporal insecurities and ascend toward his higher Self – freed from the weight of futile self-doubt and petty distractions – rests entirely in his hands. Krishna aids him through his psychospiritual journey not with a lightning-bolt of instantaneous comprehension, but through a slow unraveling of illusions so that Arjuna will arrive at a loftier vantage, able to reconnect with his true Self, and to remember his sacred duty. The answers are already within him; the very purpose of Krishna's counsel is merely to draw it out. "Armed with his purified knowledge, subduing the self with resolve, relinquishing sensuous objects, avoiding attraction and hatred... unposessive, tranquil, he is at one with the infinite spirit."

At its core, the Bhagavad Gita is timelessly insightful and life-affirmingly human, an epic that illustrates the discomfiting truths and moral dilemmas that continue to haunt modern-day readers. Despite its martial setting, it is fueled not by the atrocities of battle, but overflowing with the wisdoms of devotion, duty and love. Its protagonist is inclined by lingering personal attachments, but compelled by godly counsel, to surpass both the narrow private restrictions of self-doubt and the broad social framework of family, in order to reconnect with his pure, transcendental Self. However the Gita does not offer its teachings as rigid doctrine, but as a gentle framework through which readers can achieve a fresh perspective on the essential struggles of humankind. At once a down-to-earth narrative and a multifaceted spiritual drama, the Gita bears a concrete timelessness, with its magnetism lying in the fact that it is a work not of religious dogma, but of personal choice.