#they will say that blitz wasn’t afraid of losing the book but afraid of losing Stolas

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

I’ll be writing a critique of the way Blitzø and Stolas’ relationship was handled more at length, but I wanted to stop and take a moment to look at this scene from the new episode, “Full Moon”:

This is the sort of power and control that Stolas has always had over Blitzø.

It does not matter that Stolas has never threatened to take away the Grimoire before, or that they were “friends” as kids, or that he offered Blitzø a few months off, or that he’s been nice to Blitzø in the past, or that Blitzø actually does have feelings for Stolas.

When you are in a situation where you cannot say no at the risk of losing your livelihood, you cannot give true consent.

This is the very BASIS of their relationship. It has always been the basis of their relationship—a quid pro quo relationship where Stolas holds all of the power.

I have seen countless people go over and explain in great detail why the full moon deal was not truly coercive, or a quid pro quo situation, or how it was completely consensual.

And it’s just not. It is sexual coercion where Blitzø cannot give meaningful consent. Because if he refuses Stolas, he’s at risk of losing everything.

I want to clarify that my criticism here isn’t with this writing decision. I’m not trying to say anything along those the lines of “because this fictional character did a bad thing the story is bad and people who like the character support sexual coercion!!” That’s not what I’m saying at all.

I am bringing all of this up because my criticism is not of this writing decision, but because of the framing of the Full Moon deal and of Stolas and Blitzø’s relationship.

The narrative often frames Blitzo as if he is the one who has wronged Stolas by not prioritizing Stolas’ feelings and needs above all else. Or, it frames both Stolas and Blitzo as being equally in the wrong for the conflicts in their “relationship”.

This framing, and the extent to which fans try to justify it as being ANYTHING other than what it actually is—Stolas coercing Blitzø into a relationship where he has no power and is at the risk of losing his livelihood—is baffling to me.

This framing, coupled with the writer’s absolute refusal to ever have Stolas held accountable for his actions (including Stolas still not actually apologizing for the situation he put Blitzø into—he acknowledges that the relationship being transactional is wrong, but does not acknowledge that he was wrong to coerce Blitzø into that relationship. He says “…it isn’t right…it never was”, not “What I did wasn’t right, and never was”) is why I can’t consider St0litz to be just a “complex” or “messy” relationship.

It don’t think it can be, because it’s not a relationship. Not a real one. It’s a transaction, where Stolas treats Blitzø like a sex object. And whether that was the intent or not, Blitzø’s reaction above and saying that he would do anything to keep the grimoire makes it really hard for me to see St0litz in any other light.

As a final note, I’m not saying that you can’t write dark relationships, or have complex and unsympathetic protagonists. You can ship whatever you want! You can have characters that sexually coerce and abuse others, you can write every dark and twisted thing your mind can come up with.

But it’s very clear that Helluva Boss’s writers want to frame Stolas as being the wronged party, and the one who we are supposed to sympathize with—and you just can’t have it both ways.

You can’t act like you’re writing a complex love story between two very complicated and real people, when the relationship that you’re describing is so utterly one-sided and unbalanced.

[omegawizardposting]

Hopefully not talking slander here, but I honestly think the way/order that Stolas did things wasn’t good.

Taking the book away and saying he’s keeping it first put Blitzø on guard.

I think if he’d given the crystal first and then said something like ‘with this, you won’t need the book and our arrangement anymore’ it might have gone better?

Possibly, but I'm not so sure.

Even after Stolas gives him the crystal and explains what it does, Blitz is still desperately begging him for another chance, saying he can do better. I think this is meant to highlight that it isn't losing the grimoire he's afraid of. It's losing Stolas.

No matter what, he was going to end up on edge, because Stolas is forcing him to confront his own feelings by nullifying their agreement. Now he has no obligation to see Stolas. He has no excuse.

That's just my interpretation, though!

[bubblesandpages]

I am choosing to believe — for the sake of my own sanity and character preferences — that Sel and Sarah are fairly close friends. 

Also, just for reference and lols, I need you to picture them as an intimidating part-demon child next to a tiny pixie of a girl.

I present the evidence for my hair-thin headcanon.

“You’re blitzed, buddy. Move.” Sarah wiggles her arm between us and pushes [Sel] away from me. He bats at her hand and — misses. The economy of movement he’s always displayed is gone; every gesture imprecise, too big.

It’s the most surreal thing I’ve ever seen, and after a night like tonight, that’s saying a lot. 

My question is muffled behind my fingers. “What’s wrong with him?”

He’s aether-drunk,” she says, as if that explains everything. She pushes against him with her full weight, but Sel sort of drapes his body over her. She grunts in frustration. 

. . . 

“I am not!” Sel declares loudly.

Sarah shoves him hard and Sel growls at her. Shockingly, she growls back. It’s a small, silly-sounding imitation of his low rumble, but it works. He blinks at her and gives a confused grimace that is, somehow, the extreme opposite of intimidating.  

First the fact Sel is comfortable enough to use Sarah as a personal cruch, the fact that Sarah appears comfortable and unbothered by being in such close proximity to Sel — not trying to draw away out of fear or disgust — is very telling. 

Sarah is so obviously unafraid of the walking descendent of Merlin, who we’ve seen be nothing but intimidating or threatening up until now. She growls back at him like they’re both in grade school and it doesn’t mean anything! She’s not afraid at all, they’re comfortable with each other IT’S FANTASTIC. Likewise Sel has no objections to having her prop him up, which drunk or not I can’t see him allowing in most situations. Even the fact that Bree’s seeing all of this I would have expected to be out of character for him, but then it’s been a long night, and if it’s Sarah . . . well, maybe being vulnerable around her doesn’t count, and Bree will be mesmered or revealed to be a demon and killed soon enough anyway, so what does it matter if she sees him leaning on another person?

Also, there is nothing not amusing about the extreme opposite of intimidating.

“Tonight shouldn’t have happened Sar,” he mutters. His dark brows draw together as if he’s seeing it happen all over again. “Nothing like that has . . . has ever happened before. When the Regents find out . . .”

Sarah’s tone turns soothing. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s not what they’ll say,” Sel whispers, his hoarse voice almost lost to the wind. 

Sel uses her nickname. Sel! Who only refers to Nick and Bree in the formal! Tell me that doesn’t beget familiarity between these two!

And what’s more Sel’s letting her in on his fear of being killed/imprisoned for going the equivalent of demon insane. And Sarah immediately reciprocates and tries to assure him he isn’t losing his marbles and be thrown under the bus for it. She’s trying to comfort him. Something we don’t see anyone else try to do in this entire book aside from Bree, eventually (which, how messed up is that? I know that’s the entire point BUT it’s still super uncomfortable that all of these people have grown up together, know each other’s fate, and particularly how cruelly that fate comes for Merlins, and do nothing when Sel is in danger of tipping over the deep end, and is very clearly freaking out over what’s going to happen to him. Okay. End of rant, for now). 

“That’s not what they’ll say,” the fact that this line is whispered like Sel’s letting show his very real fear about what these events mean to Sarah, how he might fail in protecting his charge because he’s so stupid, and has never wonted any of this. and why is he only choosing to NOW be interested? and comes back dragging an incredibly sus girl around with him? The openness and vulnerability is getting to me.

Regardless of how few scenes we get of these two I think the few we do are lovely, and speak volumes to their relationship. 

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 1: Murder Family

"Dad, dad, dad! Wake up, dad!"

Striker grunted as he covered his head with his pillow, but it was no use as the intruder hopped on his bed. "Kiddo, unless there's a wild animal or a homeless drunk inside the house, go away and let me sleep."

"Daaad, you promised that you'd take me along to the living world this time!"

Striker took a peek at the clock on his bedside table. "Not at 5:36 AM, boy. Couldn't you wait until I'm actually awake?"

"What am I supposed to do 'till then?"

"I don't know, use your imagination."

"But dad-" Out of patience, Striker bared his teeth at his son, tail rattling. Jake raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving."

Once the door closed shut, Striker went back to sleep… For about thirty seconds, that is, until the door slammed open and Jake jumped into his bed again, screaming in fright and knocking the air out of his father.

"What the fuck, Jake?!" Striker all but shrieked.

"There's a spider in the living room!"

"... What?"

"Spider!"

"And why didn't you squash it?!"

"It's a big spider!"

Striker's eye twitched. With an irritated grunt, he got off the bed, rolled up a porno magazine on his bedside drawer, and stomped his way towards the living room, Jake trailing closely behind.

"I can't believe it, A son of mine is afraid of a tiny, insignificant…" Striker trailed off and stopped in the doorway. A hog-sized hellantula was tearing the couch apart with big, sharp mandibles. "Boy, go get the rifle."

Once the issue with the spider was taken care of, Striker found himself unable to go back to sleep after the fiasco, so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a big cup of black coffee before making breakfast. Thankfully, Blitzo wasn't inside his fridge this time around, though he made a mental note to go get some more groceries.

As he served the fried eggs and wild hog bacon, Jake walked into the kitchen. He was covered in sweat like he had spent an hour lifting five-ton weights. "Dad, wouldn't it have been easier if we cut up the spider's carcass and take it out piece by piece?" he whined.

"And make a bigger mess I'll have to clean up? No, thank you." Striker placed one of the plates in front of his son. Jake frowned.

"Puaj. Tomato."

"Stop complaining and eat, boy. It's good for you."

They are in silence for the first few minutes. Striker would subtly glance in Jake's direction every now and then, smirking internally at the boy's expressions while he begrudgingly ate his vegetables.

"So, ready for today?" he asked casually.

Jake's expression brightened. "How's the living world like? Is it cool? Does it look anything like hell?"

"You could say so. The only difference is that there are humans living there instead of demons."

"Humans? What are those?"

"Well, you've seen the clients at I.M.P, right? They used to be humans during their lifetime. When they died, they came to Hell and became Sinner demons because they did bad things in life. However, some of them have..." Striker toyed with his bacon as he thought of a proper word. "...pending business with someone in the living world. Our job is to finish that business in the client's stead.

"So… The people who go to I.M.P. are dead humans who want to fuck up someone who fucked them up in the living world?"

Striker snapped his fingers. "Bingo. You're getting the hang of it, kid."

"Hey, dad, think I could use the-?"

"No."

"Hey, you didn't let me finish!"

"Sorry, kiddo. I thought you were going to ask if you could use the blessing-tipped rifle." Striker replied, his eyes reflecting off the knife he was using to butter his toast.

Jake laughed nervously. "Speaking of which-"

"No."

"Come on, dad! When will you let me use those?"

"When you're ready, not a second sooner."

"And when will I be ready?"

Striker dropped his fork to place a hand on Jake's shoulder. "We'll both know. Until then, finish your breakfast."

*HB*

"Moxxie, stop shaking. You're gonna shoot our only hellhound!"

"Wow, I feel so loved here."

Striker watched, uninterested, as Moxxie pointed the crossbow with shaking arms at a photo depicting a human family. "If this were real, he'd already been dead."

"You're not helping, Striker," Millie growled before focusing back on Moxxie. "Just take a deep breath, and let it out."

"But it's a family. Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?"

"Who knows? Maybe if that's what the client wants." Striker said matter-of-factly as he polished his pistol.

Moxxie wasn't convinced. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family. That's understandable. But to eradicate an entire innocent-seemingly in this instance-upper middle-class family bloodline?"

Loona frowned. "Hey!" You don't know they're innocent! This kid probably sets dogs on fire, maybe this girl gets off bullying Australian kids online, and this guy…"

"That guy definitely watches," Jake added grimly.

"Couldn't have said it better, little guy." Loona shared a fist bump with the impling.

"Exactly! Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here."

"But-"

Striker had enough. "Allow me, Mildred." he stomped his way to Moxxie and picked him up by the throat. "Look, wimp, guilty and innocent aren't our business. We're assassins, not charity workers. Killing a target," he swiftly aimed his pistol at the photo and fired a clean shot at the woman's face, leaving a hole in its wake. His point made clear, Striker locked gazes with Moxxie, hissing. "Now pick a bloody target before I throw you out the window."

Moxxie fell to the ground with a loud thud. Millie handed him the crossbow again; he aimed the tip of the arrow at the father's face, trying to imagine it was Striker.

"I just think it's a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all."

Blitzo slammed the door open at that precise moment, startling Moxxie into firing the arrow. It bounced all around the room, hitting the computer, making a second hole on the photograph, and striking the bottom of the eel tank. Moxie jumped into Millie's arms while Striker quickly picked Jake up from the eel tank when he noticed it wobbling.

"Daad, I nearly had it!"

Blitzo caught the arrow just before it struck the client's skull. "...our newest client!"

The eel tank fell and shattered, spilling its contents all over the floor. The eels burst into electricity, setting the entirety of the room on fire.

Striker frowned at Jake, who was stunned into silence. "To think that could have been you."

"Damn it, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!"

They were forced to evacuate the building as the firefighters arrived and did their job. Striker was sure that this little incident didn't leave a good impression on the client, but surprisingly she didn't cancel. Guess she really wanted that person 86'd.

"Way to go, jughead," Jake told Moxxie sarcastically as they watched the firefighters carry the eels into their truck.

"Shut up, you little brat," Moxxie murmured.

Millie frowned at him. "Mox, don't talk to Jake like that!"

"He started it!" Striker rolled his eyes. Moxxie is 'supposed to be the adult who shouldn't stomp down to a child's level.

Wait a minute. "Did anyone save the fancy book?"

"You mean our only ticket to the other side?" Luna slipped out the blue, fancy-looking tome from her clothing without bothering to look up from her hellphone. "Yeah, got it."

"And that's why you're my favorite, Loonie!"

"I thought my dad was your favorite." Jake pointed out.

"Who says I can't have two favorite people? Your dad's my favorite employee and Loonie here's my favorite adopted daughter. You get a tweat now!"

Millie drew the chalk pentagram on the nearby wall. The lines glowed an eerie red color as the circle expanded and the area inside transformed into a forest. The portal was open.

"Cool! Can I draw it the next time?"

"Maybe. Let's get this over with."

Striker would never admit it out loud, but he found these trips to the living world… relaxing. The air smelled cleaner, like trees and nature instead of sulfur, ash, and lava-like Wrath. Its landscapes were more varied, prettier, and calm, at least compared to Hell's ecosystems. This place was particularly breathtaking; a wide lake surrounded by forest and mountains with the sun setting, giving the sky reddish colors that reminded Striker of Bombproof's mane.

Jake seemed to be having similar thoughts. The impling was looking all over the place, eyes wide. "Whoah…"

"Hey, hey, hold your horses!" Striker picked his son up by the shirt before he could dart into the woods. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I wanna look around, dad! This place is so neat!"

"It's your first time on the surface, right? Don't worry, Jakey!" Blitzo pulled Jake into a hug. "Just stick close to uncle Blitz and everything will be fine!"

"Sides, you and I got a very important job! We're going to keep an eye on... Well, the house, just in case something goes wrong!"

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Millie, I might be a kid but I'm not stupid."

"Oh, I know you aren't, Jakey." Millie chirped, ruffling the boy's hair.

Blitzo, Striker, and Moxxie silently moved closer to the house and leaned against the wall. The former two peeked through the window. It seemed like a normal-looking household with a mom, dad, and two kids. The target was coming out of the kitchen, platter in both hands.

"That's gotta be her." Blitzo chuckled darkly. "Ready to do your cowboy thing, Striker?"

As he was about to point his rifle, Striker glanced sideways to Moxxie. The cowboy sneered. "Actually, Blitz, this one's far too easy. We should let Moxxie have her."

Moxxie blinked. "Me?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I don't see another Moxxie around here, do you?"

"He's right, Mox. This one's simple enough for you to handle."

Moxxie's face fell after peering into the house. "It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."

"You snooze, you lose, Mox."

Striker readied his rifle, taking a few steps back to aim. He set his eyes on the blonde human female, licking his lips in anticipation. "I've got you, bitch."

"Wait, are we actually killing a family?" Moxxie asked.

"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Striker positioned the rifle as it clicked.

"Yeah, we're ruining a family," Blitzo added cheerily.

"B-But… hold on, hold on. Let's just think about it."

He was pulling the trigger when the rifle was suddenly pushed upwards. The movement made the bullet miss its target by a few inches, hitting a mirror instead.

"Why, you-!" Striker grabbed Moxxie's throat, hissing and rattling his tail.

"What the fuck was that, Moxxie?!" Blitzo snapped. Moxxie seemed to go into a panic attack of sorts, prompting Striker to release him.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, tears in his eyes. "They just seemed so wholesome and happy, I panicked!"

Striker rubbed his temple, murmuring under his breath while Blitzo facepalmed. "Get the fuck over it, you baby dick-!"

PAM!

Striker roared in pain as a bullet blasted through the wall, hitting him in the arm. He gripped the wound as blood scurried out of the wound. Fuck, and on his aiming arm!

"New hole! Scatter!"

"Dad!"

Jake's voice brought Striker out of his daze. The last thing he saw before something struck his head was Millie picking his son up and fleeing the scene. Everything went black afterward.

…

As consciousness returned, Striker felt as if he had been trampled over by a stampede. His head hurt like hell and his wounded arm was no better. He tried to move but found himself unable to. Something was binding his hands behind his torso.

"Striker! Wake up, partner!"

"Wha…? Moxxie?" As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, Striker realized he was tied up in a bizarre chair, hands tightly bound behind his back. Moxxie was in a similar dilemma on the chair to his right. "What the fuck?!"

"Thank satan you're awake! We're in deep shit!"

"You think?" Striker hissed. "Moxxie, I swear, if those bloody humans don't kill you, I will!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for us getting caught!"

"Oh, really? None of this would be happening if I had hit the target and been done with it! God damn it, Moxxie, I had a clean shot and you made me miss!"

"H-How can you kill a mother and leave orphaned children when you have a kid yourself?!"

"Because that's what we were paid for, for Satan's sake!"

They could have continued to argue if it weren't for the two presences in the room. As they looked around, they saw the two kids from before. He might have confused the little shits with implings if they had horns and red skin; their glowing red eyes and devious sharp grins would make the sadistic smirks of the Princes of Hell look like nervous smiles.

Moxxie chuckled nervously. "Well hello there, little ones. Aren't you cute?"

The children spoke simultaneously in a low, almost inhuman voice. "It's nice to have new critters to play with."

If he didn't know any better, Striker might have thought they were in the Cannibal Colony back in Hell. The entire room was adorned with human heads, limbs, and even organs. The 'food' on the table consisted of a roasted fully-grown man with livers and kidneys as side dishes.

"Moxxie, when we're out of this ordeal, I'm going to fucking pummel you." Striker hissed.

They struggled against the ropes, but the kids had made a surprisingly good job with those knots. They were good enough to impress even Striker himself, and he was an ace when it came to tying up knots. Sadly, there was little he could do with an injured arm and Moxxie's wimpy little arms were hopeless. Striker growled. If only he could reach his knife…

A light outside the window caught his eye. Then a second appeared, then a third, fourth, as if someone was lighting up torches. Striker paled.

"Jake!"

"Millie!"

Both imps shared a concerned glance. The girl pulled out a serrated knife on Moxxie; to Striker's surprise, the wimp pushed the chair backward and fell on top of her. He took advantage of the distraction, using his tail to pull his knife out of his boot and expertly slice through the ropes. Once free, Striker sent the boy flying against the wall with a kick. Moxxie, too, had managed to free himself with the girl's own knife.

Striker tipped his hat with his good arm. "Not bad, wimp."

"Can you move?"

"I'm not limp, it's just a scratch." Striker wrapped his red bandanna around the wound and pulled out his pistol. "Now let's blow a hole through that bitch's skull."

*HB*

Jake had never been so frightened in his entire life. Well, maybe that time when he nearly got eaten by a serpent, but it was different. At least his father had been there to save him. But this time it was him who got hurt and there was nothing Jake could do to help. He tried to save Millie when she got K.O.'d, but he stood no chance against a fully-grown human and was knocked out as well. When he regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a stake in-between Millie and Blitzo.

"Striker had that fucking shot. Goddammit, Moxxie."

The crazy woman was cackling evilly as she held up a torch. "Satan! We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"

The torch landed a few feet away from the logs, setting them aflame. The fire rose up around them as Martha laughed maniacally… until she realized they weren't screeching in agony. Blitzo snorted.

"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire doesn't actually hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard."

Jake blinked. "She's a dude?"

"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. You should ask your daddy about it."

"Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth!" Jake gulped as Martha pulled out a rifle on them.

"That would be more effective."

"Blitzo!"

Jake closed his eyes shut, whimpering as he heard the familiar click on the rifle. There were two gunshots, but he heard no screams from Blitzo, Millie, or his own throat, and no searing pain. Jake opened an eye warily. There were two smoking holes in the sockets where Martha's eyes once were. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

A few steps back were none other than Moxxie and dad, both holding their pistols.

"Moxxie! Striker!"

"Dad!"

"You're not getting your god damn paycheck for this one, Moxxie!"

As Moxxie untied the ropes, Jake jumped right into his father's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hugged and nuzzled each other affectionately.

"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Apology accepted." Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, but Striker noticed he was whispering something threatening (apparently), judging by Moxxie's expression.

He waited until Blitzo let go to punch Moxxie with such force that he fell to the ground.

"What the fuck, Striker?!"

"I keep my promises, Mox."

*HB*

Striker wasn't very fond of parties. Frankly, he just wanted to go home, fall to his bed, and sleep, but Jake begged him to stay a little longer to eat cake. After what the boy just went through, he didn't have the heart to say no, so he conceded. Besides, the look on Moxxie's face was fun to look at. He had no idea what put the wimp in such a mood, but he had the feeling it had to do with what remained of the target's bloodline.

"You sure you can ride back home with that arm? I wouldn't like to lose my best shooting asset!" Blitzo protested as he climbed onto Bombproof's saddle, Jake seated in front of him.

"Big deal, it's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry about, Blitz." Striker grabbed the reins with his good arm, the injured one resting on a sling.

Bombproof moved at a slow pace, so it'd take them longer than usual to get home. Millie had once suggested that he and Jake move to Imp City; there was a vacant apartment in the building she and Moxxie lived in and she'd be thrilled at the idea of being neighbors (Moxxie, of course, didn't share the sentiment). Striker regretfully declined the offer (to Moxxie's relief). He was a country person at heart and would rather stay in Wrath. Besides, he wanted his son to experience the ups and downs of rural life.

A loud yawn made him look down. "Tired?"

"No, just resting my eyes," Jake said simply, but the exhaustion in his voice said otherwise. Striker chuckled.

"How about you 'rest yer eyes' for a while, then? I'll wake you up when we get home."

"Really, dad, I'm not tired…" Jake trailed off as he leaned back against his father, resting his chest against his chest.

Striker smiled a bit as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Surely not, kiddo. Surely not."

[swiss-cheeze]

Tick-Tock, Hook’s Afraid of an Ordinary Clock! || Spencer Reid

Requested: YES/NO: gender neutral please! So my request. Y/n has been working at the BAU for a while, and never ever had feelings for Spencer but more for Derek. One night is spent at a hotel and Spencer gets wasted as all hell which the team found unusual. That’s really all! Do with that what you will! Smut is fine too! You can add your own personal touches if you wish. Also would love some fighting between Spencer and y/n

Gender: none, they/them.

Warnings: insults, alcohol, normal CM case talk, verbal fight dialogue taken from Hook (1991), crap music talk.

----

“Eat your heart out, you crinkled, wrinkled fat bag,” you mumbled under your breath as Spencer finished his rambling of some unknown subject. Spencer stiffened at your insult, as did the rest of the team. You had just gotten back from a pretty bad case involving a team of family annihilators and where sitting in the nearest bar; throughout the whole case Spencer had almost made it his mission to speak over you, correct you, flick things at you, ‘forget’ you’re there, bump into you and more. God it was so annoying, and now? Now you've had enough.

“That was very ill-mannered-” Spencer started.

“And you're a slug-eating worm,” you said with a little more force matter-of-factly, cutting off whatever it was Spencer was going to say.

“You can do better than that pretty boy!” Derek said quickly with a grin as he nudged Spencer; you almost pounced on that man for taking Spencer's side rather than yours; Derek had always taken your side.

“You're encouraging this?” Spencer questioned quickly.

“Show me your fastball, dust brain!” you started again, “you paunchy, sag-bottomed puke pot!” Spencer's eyes widened three times the size they normally would be as the rest of your table sat quiet and watched.

“Damn!” Emily said under her breath with a grin as her eyes darted between the two of you; it was like watching tennis.

“You're a very poor role model for your team, you know that right?” Spencer shook his as he took a mouthful of his drink before a sly grin overtook his face, “I bet you don't even have a fourth-grade reading level,” a few of your teammates let out a little blow of air.

“Hemorrhoidal sucknavel” you said quickly.

“Maybe a fifth-grade reading level.” Spencer said even quicker.

“Oil-dripping, beef-fart-sniffing bubble butt” you started to really get into it, leaning over the table a little with a smirk.

“Aye there we go (Y/n)!” Derek said quickly, now he was on your side? You looked to Hotch who was smiling thinking that maybe you had another on your side.

“Someone has a severe caca mouth, you know that?” Spencer cut off your gaze with his words, as if he was bored.

“You’re a fart factory. A slug-slime sack of rat guts and cat vomit, a cheesy scab picked pimple-squeezing finger bandage!” snickering came over the table; but you weren't done yet oh no, “a week-old maggot burger with everything on it and flies on the side!” you grinned; many many words in that one insult. Spencer went to open his mouth but you cut him off, “you’re really just a substitute chemistry teacher” you winked.

“Come on Spence, hit (Y/n) back!” J.J. quickly intervened.

“Mung tongue” Spencer fired.

“Math tutor,”

“Pinhead,”

“Mother lover,” that one was a low blow on your end but you couldn't help yourself.

“Nearsighted gynecologist,” ouch Spence, Hotch snorted at that one.

“In your face, camelcake!” you shot back.

“In your rear, cow derrière!” of course Spencer came back even faster.

“Lying, crying, spying, prying ultra-pig!” Emily snickered at yours.

“Lewd, crude bag of pre-chewed food!” Derek snickered at Spencers.

“Guys maybe settle down…” Hotch said softly, this was starting to get a little out of hand.

“You man! Stupid, stupid man!” That was all you could give back as your mind turned blank, forgetting every word in the dictionary.

“If I'm a maggot burger, why don't you just eat me?” Spencer shot back, “you zebra-headed, slime-coated, pimple-farming, paramecium brain, munching on your own mucus, suffering from Spencer Reid envy!” laughter ensued as your face contorted to confusion.

“What the hell is a ‘paramecium’?” your voice held the question as Spencer pointed to you.

“I'll tell you what a paramecium is! You’re a paramecium!” everyone on your table stared at Spencer as he elaborated; “It's a one-celled critter with no brain that can't think!” and with that, your table cheered for Spencer as you sat sulking.

“Oh come on (Y/n), you should have known you would lose,” Derek said with a grin before following Spencer to the bar.

“He's drinking a lot tonight isn't he?” Emily questioned.

“Who, Derek?” J.J. guessed with a furrowed brow.

“No! Spencer!” Emily quickly concluded.

“He was a little harsh on (Y/n)” Hotch cut in quickly, “I’m just glad Dave and Garcia weren’t here to witness that,” you slammed your drink on the table and sent a glare to the three left at the table.

“I'm going home, i'll see everyone on monday,” you grumbled out before stalking off, your shoes made loud thunking sounds as they hit the wood flooring, your anger getting the best of you as you passed Spencer and Derek.

“Yo (Y/n) you getting a drink too?” Derek was about to order your normal drink until you slapped both Spencer and Derek on the back of the head.

“OW! What the hell-!” Spencer's back was to you but as he turned and saw you his anger melted into elation, “come back for round 2 (Y/n)?” Spencer questioned, the poor boy tried to act cool and lean against the bar but missed entirely and almost fell onto a rather burly looking gentleman. You huffed slightly as you turned to Derek.

“Make sure the substitute chem teacher gets home safe,” and with that you threw open the bar doors and walked your way home, it was only a block and you had gotten a ride with Emily anyway.

-

When you finally slumped home, chucked off your shoes and threw yourself onto your mattress you couldn't help but make yourself angrier with the new insults suddenly bubbling in your head.

“Who does that piss brain even think he is,” you mumbled into the air, “paramecium my ass…” you continued your grumbling into the atmosphere as you twisted and turned on the mattress before sleep finally engulfed you.

------

The work week started up again and before you knew it yourself and the team where needed in New Orleans because of a new range of sudden murders.

“Lets review please,” Hotch mumbled.

“The bodies cross gender and racial lines” Rossi started.

“The throat is slit with something very sharp but also clean, I get a funny feeling it isnt a kitchen knife though,” you mumbled as you looked at the photos closer trying to get a good angle on a printed piece of paper.

“Butcher?” Derek questioned, you shrugged.

“Could these be blitz attacks?” you heard Spencer scoff at your suggestion.

“If this was a blitz attack there would be remorse and blunt force trauma somewhere on the head,” Spencer said looking directly at you.

“Oh, i'm so sorry Doctor i didn't know my input was unwanted, let me just keep my thoughts to myself,”

“Guys,” J.J. sighed, “Garcia is going through the victims lives that we have already, I can talk to the family and see if there are any enemies?” Hotch nodded.

“Derek, I want you to join J.J. with the families. Rossi, Emily go to the M.E. together and have a look over the bodies and tox screens. (L/n), Reid and I will go to the police station and start on a geographical and victim board,” everyone nodded in agreement to what Hotch said. Except for Spencer. He just stared at you with dangerous eyes. You rolled yours in return before putting your headphones into your phone and playing music to drown out Spencer's overbearingly loud thoughts.

-

“Okay my lovelies, these first three victims all had the same job at the same court; they’re all a part of a Jury audience” Garcia explained as her fingers tapped on her keyboard through the phone.

“Maybe someone just got out of prison that was wrongly convicted and wanting revenge?” you questioned.

“Maybe, it would have to be something pretty big for them to come back,” Derek said, you nodded in agreement, “baby girl can you see if there are any people that may have been convicted by a jury with our victims in it?”

“Sure can sugar, PG out” the phone clicked off.

“Did you find anything from the M.E.?” Hotch turned to Rossi and Emily as he spoke.

“The pathologist said it was a clean cut without hesitation marks or remorse,” Rossi said.

“No drugs, no blunt force trauma,” Emily shrugged as she talked, “it wasn't a blitz.”

“Maybe planned?” you butted in.

“That’s what it seems like,” Hotch said, “Reid? Have you got anything? J.J.?” Hotch questioned as he looked to the respective people.

“The victims were killed in different areas but its places they frequented; house, bar, bar” Spencer started, “they’re all over the place is all, completely different areas,”

“Yeah, and the families weren’t much help either. One of the victims' families, uh, Emil Gosten? His family said they didn't want anything to do with the investigation because he's had previous death threats and calls and stuff,” J.J. shrugged as the room went quiet.

“Reid, (L/n) I know you two dont like each other but I need two of my sharpest minds to go back to the crime scenes,” Hotch sighed, you groaned but complied as you stalked off with Reid following shortly behind.

-

“Everything looks the exact same as it was left,” you sighed out as you placed a blanket back down on the couch. Spencer scanned the books on the shelf before pulling one out and starting to read it; completely ignoring you.

“Reid,” nothing.

“Reid.” again, nothing.

“Spencer,” nope.

“SPENCE”

“What!” he finally turned to you and answered.

“You couldn't give me some complacency and at least answer me when i talk to you?” you asked annoyed.

“Why would i?” Spencer asked with a bored tone as he placed the book back on the shelf, except he finally talked to you, “The victim is atheist, believes in the justice system…” he sighed and shrugged, “did Hotch just put us together to fuck with us?”

“Maybe,” you flopped onto the couch with a sigh as you rest your head on the backrest. That was until something caught your eye, “Oi genius!” you called out, Spencer came to your side as you pointed to the roof; there, above your heads was a piece of paper taped to the ceiling, “you’re taller than me,” you said quickly as you got up and started moving the couch.

“Woah what- what’re you doing?” Spencer jumped back slightly as you pushed the couch backwards.

“Well we’re going to push this back and then put a chair down for you to stand on so you can reach that note because it can possibly help us get to the unsub,”

“What why me?” Spencer questioned as he helped you push the couch back.

“You’re taller than me and have longer arms,” you walked over to the dining table and came back with a chair, Spencer was reluctant at first but eventually stood on the chair and plucked down the taped note; letting out a breath as he finally stood on the ground again. You plucked the note from Spencer's hand and opened it.

“A music note?” Spencer mumbled.

“Something like that,” you mumbled back, “see it's in the second to bottom gap,” you pointed to the gap to show where it was, as if Spencer couldn't see it already, “um, it would sound something like...um, dmm” you vibrate your voice a little to help Spencer understand, he nodded, “the only problem is there isn’t any clef; normally with music you have a treble clef, alto clef or bass clef. They basically determine what instrument can be played and how the notes are determined” Spencer looked genuinely interested while you explained your thinking, “this...its a singular note, maybe there’s more around?” you looked around the room and tried to desifre if there were any opened drawers or cupboards.

“Maybe there’s another one at the other location?” Spencer questioned, you grinned.

“It might be the unsubs calling card; ‘hey, this is my kill’ type thing!” and with that, you made a break in the case.

-

Spencer called the rest of the team about the break as Hotch allowed the two of you to go to the other victims houses and search for more music notes; low and behold you now had 3 music notes placed under the corresponding victim heads.

“You keep staring at that board as if it's going to give you answers,” Derek said with a grin as he walked into the room; the rest of the team had been called out to another dead body.

“Hmm? Oh I just…” you shrugged, “i just get this feeling about the notes; they have to sound something but we just don't know what yet” before Derek could answer you the shrill of the phone went off.

“(Y/n)?” it was Spencer on loudspeaker; he never called you by your first name.

“Yeah what's up Reid?” you called back.

“We found another note; the round part is under the last line with the stem going up to the second line at the top,” you nodded in response (not that Spencer could see you) as you drew the note on a piece of paper with a sharpener and placed it on the victim board.

“Anything else? A clef at all anywhere?” you asked.

“Um i'm not- i don't think so?” it sounded like Spencer was shuffling around a few things to get a better look, “we have another piece of paper!” Spencer called out, moments later you got a photo on your phone. Sure enough there was a treble clef.

“Spence get everyone back here; i know what the notes mean”

-

“Our unsub is using something called the Dies Irae,” you played the first few notes on your phone over youtube, “you've all heard this song over time just not exactly in an orchestra setting; Star Wars, The Nightmare Before Christmas, The Corpse Bride, Sweeney Todd, The Shining, The Exorcist and many many more,” you played a few other videos of the notes from a few of the movies as everyone nodded.

“I can hear it,” J.J. mumbled.

“Same,” that was Emily.

“Right, so...it was originally used with catholic’s; they used the music in their Requiem services-”

“Requiem services are basically putting the dead to rest,” Spencer cut in quickly so the team could understand.

“Yeah, it's basically a song for the dead to stay dead in a way? I think our unsub is using the Sweeney Todd method; killing his victims with a razor. One slice across the neck while in a private area except this dude isn't a cannibal” you grinned at the remembrance of the film.

“Cannibal?” Derek and Emily questioned.

“In the movie Sweeney Todd is a barber, he comes back for revenge on the man who stole his wife and child and kills people in his barber shop which is also above a pie shop owned by a woman named Mrs Lovett; when Sweeney starts killing they come together in order to bring customers back to Mrs Lovett's pie shop. Because it's set in 1785 meat was expensive so instead they used the dead people as meat to sell to customers” you realised how long winded that explanation was and apologized, “sorry that was..i think our unsub is a barber” was your final statement. Hotch nodded and moved to press a button on the phone in the middle of the table, but the phone started ringing instead.

“Garcia?”

“I think i found our unsub; Chris Gevette, he filed for divorce after he gave evidence of spousal abuse but it seems like his wife had every piece of evidence that would be able to put him in jail rather than her so everything was blamed on him for the abuse and the jury ruled him unable to keep any stable relationship”

“Garcia do you have a work and home address?”

“Sent to your phones now; barber shop and home” the phone clicked off.

“(Y/n) i want you to go to the barber shop with Reid and Derek. Emily, J.J. and I will go to the house; Rossi stays here in case anything else happens.” and with that you all ran to the SUV’s.

-----

“CHRIS GEVETTE FBI!” Derek shouted through the door, your guns were drawn and ready for action as Derek kicked the door in. You moved swiftly through the shop, finding nothing but dust.

“Guys!” you were now out the back as your partners came running, “it's exactly like Sweeney Todd,” you motioned to the stairs in front of you before looking behind you, “there's stars that lead down as well; there may be bodies in there like the movie too, you go down there and i'll go up.”

“(Y/n) let me come with you,” that was Spencer, he looked genuinely concerned.

“I've got this Spence. Go” you started your ascent up the wooden stairs while trying to stay as quiet as you possibly could, “CHRIS GEVETTE,” you called out to the door once you got to it, you could hear the bustle of footsteps and made the split decision. The door was kicked in by you as you pointed your gun to Chris who was now holding a razor to a woman's neck.

“Get away!” Chris screamed, he was frantic; trembling and crying.

“Chris! Chris it's okay, i'm a good guy, okay?” you slowly let go of your gun, “im holstering my gun, okay?” you said as you're-holstered your gun, “Chris i know about the divorce-”

“No you dont!” Chris called, the woman under the razor trembled as the razor cut into her neck slightly.

“I do! Chris, I know you were abused! I know it wasn't you that did the abusing! If you let her go we can help you get custody and instead send that bitch to jail,” Chris looked almost relieved to hear that, he contemplated that for a moment before slowly letting the woman go. She ran over to you as Derek and Spencer finally came up the stairs and started handcuffing Chris.

“We’ve got two other bodies in the basement,” Spencer said to you while you held the trembling woman, “there's medic on the way now,” you nodded in affirmation before starting to help the women calm down and walk down the stairs.

------

The jet finally landed back at the bureau as the rest of your team started packing their things from their desks.

“Um (Y/n)” a voice called, you smiled as you looked up to see the person you least expected.

“Spence?” you questioned; your eyes darted around and couldn't see any other team member in sight, “everyone left already. Sorry. I've been in my own little world,” you gave a tight smile as you continued packing some extra files into your bag.

“It-it’s just me, but um, I just wanted to congratulate you on your break in the case,” the comment from Spencer's timid and small voice caught you off guard so much that you froze for a moment as you stared at him. It all seemed to go quiet, and slow; the clock on the wall seemed to tick at an atrociously slow pace.

Tick…

“(Y/n)?”

Tock…

“Hmm?”

“I uh, i was-”

“Oh, yeah um-”

Pause.

Quiet.

“Thank you,” smile.

Tick…

“I was...was wondering, (Y/n)...”

Tock…

“Yeah Spence?”

“Would you...would you like to go...on a date...with...me?”

Pause.

Quiet.

“With you?”

“Well, I did...I did say ‘me’ I hope- just, just forget it” and the world went back to normal as Spence started walking away.

“No Spence, wait!” you grabbed your things and quickly darted off after him; plunging your arm between the elevator doors and stepping in quickly before they shut behind you.

“Just forget it (Y/n); forget i ever asked and we can just go back to-”

“I would love to go on a date with you”

Tick…

“Really?”

“So long as you don't call me a paramecium again”

Tock…

“I won't; as long as you don't call me a substitute chemistry teacher”

Pause.

Quiet.

“I won't”

“Then it's settled.

Tick…

“Message me?”

“Of course”

Tock…

Smile.

[ambrial-blog]

The MER WARS: (SNEAK PEAK)

Every night, the Mer serpent watches him, every movement he made, every breath he took, those serpentine eyes were glued on him, shining with a malicious glow. The Mer couldn't get the fire imp out of his mind. He was like a lucid wet dream dancing out of reach. At night, he sings to him in hopes of luring out that red devil.

Blitz loved the ocean. He was born upon the tides; the sea beckoned him, lulled him, the oceans reminded him of his sisters. Blitz was the only survivor of that fatal shipwreck that took the lives of his sisters. The only family he had left was an overbearing father who was quick to sell his son to Lord Mammon and his crew of hellions. And a shrewd heartless mother who mourned the lives of her daughter.  He would've been handed back to those rabid wolves if it hadn't been for King Moxie and Queen Millie, who were at war with the Mers. "You can be in it Blitz, but never a part of it,  Lord Moxie once told him while walking the seashore.  Having lost his son to those carnivorous Mers,  he had woken up one morning to wild splashing, cries of desperation turning into bone-chilling screams- the sea had churned red with his son's blood as pieces of his body drifted into shore.

He never wanted to experience something like that again.  Blitz had been a second blessing to them, another chance at a family. "I don't want you to end up like him, " My little devil, if you hear the song of the sea or the wailing melody of the Siren, don't be afraid to tell me, their kelpie familiars ride across these shorelines sometimes, looking for victims to pull into the foaming seas. They are dangerous, beautiful yet treacherous creatures. Don't be fooled, son."

King Moxie and Queen Millie had adopted him soon afterward. They held grand banquets and invited friends.   On his anniversary, they gave him a lunar wolf named Loony and a Goetic owl named Stolas, who were more than they appeared. Each had a reason for being there; Loony was abandoned, and Stolas: the Goetic prince, was cursed by an Overlord.

Blitz was half asleep. The book he was reading laid across his face while Loony slept on the edge of the bed, her muzzle resting on Blitz's thigh. A voice like dark whiskey penetrates Blitzo's dreams, Leona's ears twitch as Blitzo's claws curl, tearing at the sheets.  Loony is standing on all fours,  her ear pinned back, teeth bared.  She nudges Blitz with her cold nose, trying to stir the imp. Blitz rubs his eyes, trying to get them to focus. While Stolas looks up from within a gilded cage, a worried expression on his face.

Blitz has a pained expression on his face as he twists and turns in his sheets. Reliving the night he had lost his sisters,  Stolas cocks his head to the side, looking at Loony.  Abruptly Blitz bolts up, his chest heaving. The scent of the ocean caresses his face as a sheen of cold sweat coats his body. "Hoot, Hoot." "you hear him too. I wish he would just shut up and let me sleep," says Blitzo with a yawn. "Hoot, Hoot" "No, Stolas, waking up Moxie and Millie is out of the question. Hoot, Hoot. "Throwing a shoe at him, that I can do."

The day King and Queen hired Fizzoralii to be his personal bodyguard burns through the fire imp's memory like a bad dream.  The creepiness wasn't lost on the king as he peered down at the jester from his throne. "Millie, my love are you sure  about this, isn't this a little overkill." "They will pay for murdering OUR SON!, and Blitz is like a second blessing, I will not lose him to those fucking Mers!"

"The Ocean will turn red, with their blood! I don't care how creepy he is; Blitz is all we have left!  I will not see him, shredded like Gideon."   "I still hear his screams at night Moxie, and I fear he has become a wraith." "Don't worry, your highnesses, I'll take good care of BlitzO; we've met before- those blood-thirsty Mers had interfered the last time, tore his ship, and drowned his siblings. Nearly lost BlitzO here. Blitzo grits his teeth as Fizzoralii wraps his arms around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. Just what he needed his own personal rodeo clown-bodyguard. "Spinning half-truths I see."  Blitz sneers under his breath.  Loony growls at his side, nudging the clown to the side as she wedges herself in between. As Blitz places his hand on her head, Stolas glares, being squished by those extended arms.

Blitzo likes to study down by the docks, often with Stolas perched upon his shoulder while loony surfs the waves. " I don't understand this, Stolas Blitzo growls in frustration, scribbling in his journal, ripping out a piece of paper; he crumples it in his hand and throws it into the ocean along with his pen. "You think my teacher will by, my homework got eaten up by a fish.- or should I add in a line about the talking crab?." Hoot, hoot. "I thought not." Says Blitzo stretching his limbs before falling backward so he could gaze at the sea. Watching as the crystal waters glistened. He closes his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun. He runs his hand through the waters, splashing Stolas. The disgruntled owl hooted one last time before flying up into a large tree. Looking down, he could see the jester peering out, watching Blitzo by the dock.

Blitzo spent most of the morning and well into the evening playing with Loony and Stolas and ignoring those cold unsavory eyes that fell upon him. The sunset was glistening off the waters as Blitzo began calling Loony to his side, watching the waves dance along the shoreline. Chasing the lunar wolf until he came across something wedged in the sand. It was a broach, but nothing like he had ever seen before: it was black and gold with the emblem of a serpent on it. He looks around for the owner before pocketing the broach.  Striker smirked, watching as Blitz stole the trinket. Blitz pauses, seeing the glinting sun shimmer across the vast waters. "Hey Loony, look what I found, Blitz calls with a laugh as he fishes out his waterlogged boot from the shoreline. The Lunar wolf growls,  "odd it has bite marks on it." "It's time to come in, BlitzO, calls Fizzouali, his arm winding around Blitz's waist.  "Unless you want Lord Moxie to come down to get you." Blitz takes one last look at the ocean,  "Why are you here Fizzouali, last time I  saw you, you were fuming mad,  as I wrecked Loo-Loo land trying to escape you."

[angstalottle]

Lana On The Case

Part 3

Lana knew she shouldn’t have been expecting much, especially after spending the last week lying in bed stewing in her own filth and misery.

That didn’t change the fact that her current appearance still shocked her.

Her skin had gained an ashen quality about it and dark circles under her eyes.

She was sure is Red hadn’t practically force fed her she was have lost much more weight then she already had.

She felt drained and heavy, like her life was sucked out from her when Hannah left her…

Keith showing up had given her a small glimmer of excitement perhaps even hope but as soon as he was gone and she was left alone to her thoughts they turned right back to the fact that her best friend was gone from her life forever.

That thought hurt even more than knowing her sweet wonderful Hannah killed people.

Job offer or not Lana likely would have spent the rest of her life lying in her bed if her aunties hadn’t decided to do something about it.

One moment she's dozing staring into space, the next Blue has pulled her covers away while Re dumped a bucket of warm soapy water over her.

The two manhandled her out of bed and into some clean clothes before giving her two options.

One was to stay cooped up inside and suffer through them inviting every nosey friend they could think of over to omard her with questions and pinched cheeks followed by of course the dreaded relationship advice that everyone over a certain age believed they knew.

Or go down to the police station and actually do something with her life/

Though neither option was particularly fun in the end Lana chose to go out mainly because Red had also made a swinging joke which of course practically sent her bolting through the door.

The police station like everything else in the village was only a short walk away from the Altea estate, you could get pretty much anywhere by cutting through the large gardens that have unfortunately fallen into a state of disrepair.

The lady of the manor had died when Lana was away and since then the place hadn’t been the same, like some of the beauty of the world left when she did.

As far as she knew the only daughter of the family Allura was away for school or something while her father worked in London.

Lana had fond memories of Allura, being a few years younger then the girl and quite a bit poorer, she always seemed like this fairy princess that could have anything or do anything.

Looks like not even princesses could escape tragedy.

Lana hiked up her skirt as she climbed over the thick mess of weeds and flowers careful not to disturb anything as she passed through.

Even if everyone took the shortcut it was an unsaid rule that you were not to disturb the gardens or ever go close to the house.

Of course when Lance got her foot caught in a bramble and fell face first into the ground she broke that rule by flattening at least a dozen flowers beneath her.

“Oh dear are you alright?” A woman wearing a veil and long white gloves asked as she hurried over from the main house.

Odd appearance aside what really caught Lana’s attention was her snow white hair. A characteristic that was common amongst the Altean family.

Going off her build she could have been anywhere between 20-30 but without the face or hands it really was impossible to tell.

Lana felt her cheeks burn as she pulled herself up and dusted herself down frowning at the rip that now worked its way up her blue skirt.

The woman put her hands on her dress and examined the rip tutting softly “we really must get the gardener back in this place really has fallen to ruin.”

Now that she was closer Lana could smell the sweet scent of roses coming off her in such a large volume it would almost be suffocating if they weren't outside.

“Do you work here?” Lana asked trying to swallow her embarrassment while this strange woman kept hold of her skirt.

One strong breeze and she would see next weeks washing.

The woman chuckled “not exactly. I used to live here I never actually planned on returning but in light of my father's disappearance I suppose I didn’t have much choice.”

Lana couldn’t help but flinch, since what Hannah did came to light any case of men running off in the middle of the night or simply not returning after a day out is now considered suspect.

Their still digging up all the bodies and people have been flocking from all over in search of their missing husbands, fathers and brothers.

Lana then realised something very important.

Mainly that if Alfor was missing and this woman was his daughter then it must have been Allura!

“Allura?”

Lana couldn’t see her face but she imagined a smile on those pretty pink painted lips she used to know very well.

“That’s me, im sorry but who are you?”

Lana had her suspicions of course that this was all a scam, someone swooping in to steal the Altean family fortune, but she wasn’t really in the mood for any other mysteries right now.

That and according to Keith she was pretty forgettable.

“Oh im Lana… I used to play with you in the garden as a kid.”

“Oh my i'm so sorry Lana, im afraid my memory hasn’t been that good since the accident. She gestured to her veil and gloves “I got caught up in the Blitz and i'm afraid my appearance paid a higher price then by mind.”

Lana felt guilt crawl into her stomach, well at least she didn’t outright accuse  her of being a con artist. Besides Coran was a dear friend of the family, there's no way someone would be able to just take over Allura’s life without him noticing.

“Im sorry, I didn’t realise.”

Allura waved her off finally letting go of her skirt “don’t worry about it, ive made my peace with my situation, it is a tad lonely though, people aren't exactly eager to visit the manor these days.” She sounded so sincerely sad that Lana couldn’t help but feel for her.

She knew what it was like to lose everything because of a situation out of her control, the war had stolen many things from them, Lana was lucky to keep her beauty at least.

“Well then I suppose I have no choice but to come round for tea, I would invite you to my aunts cottage but they tend to get too excited around anyone they used to know.”

Lana gave her the best smile she could manage and was rewarded by Allura taking her hands and kissing them.

Once again her face turned an interesting shade of red.

“That sounds simply wonderful Lana, how about Thursday at 8 o'clock?”

Lana had lost her ability to form words so simply nodded earning her a small chuckle in response.

“I don’t want to keep you if your busy so ill just see you Thursday?” Allura asked startling Lana out of her stupor.

“Yes I should go, but i'll erm see you then I promise.”

Lana stuttered deciding it was best to continue on her way before she made an even bigger fool of herself so mustered up what grace she had to give an awkward curtsy realising that was dumb halfway through and instead turned and hurried on her way hitting herself muttering “stupid stupid stupid” over and over again until she finally arrived at the police station.

As expected of a small town the police station was fairly quiet this time of day home only to the drunks that were picked up the night before and only now being released to go back to their family or in some cases the church.

Of course one would expect it to be much busier with the number of bodies being dug up but unfortunately since Hannah left and it became national news the investigation had been taken over by some fancy out of state law enforcement that walk around in nice suits and a stuck up attitude to match their overall pompous appearance.

Going off the sour atmosphere in the station no one was too pleased to have the villages first ever big case stolen from under them.

Lana did her best to smile politely as she made her way to reception preparing herself for awkward small talk with someone she really hoped wouldn't recognise her.

“Hello im here-”

“If you got a crime to report fill out the form if not get lost.”

The woman behind the desk looked too young to be working, her slight frame and big doe eyes making her seem like she couldn't be much older than 15 but then again looks can be deceiving. Like the fact that despite wearing big round glasses and squinting at a book in front of her the glass within the frame appeared to be purely decorative and not actually serve any function.

Lana cleared her throat “no actually i'm here about the job. Im expected.”

This time she at least bothered to look up from her book and glanced Lana up and down “what they replacing me with some tramp, i've worked here ten years and they bring in some totty to take my job”

Lana quickly held up her hands feeling actually pretty threatened by this tiny angry lady “no! No i'm the new consultant im supposed to be working with Keith and-”

“Oi Keith! Some broad here says shes your new partner!” She yelled and just like that, all eyes were on her.

Lana smiled awkwardly at them really wishing a hole would appear beneath her and swallow her up whole so she could escape this situation.

However the only thing the universe sent her was a very flustered keith running in from the back.

He was carrying a stack of papers and had that god awful mullet tied back in a ponytail that honestly didn't look half bad on him.

“Thanks Katie i can take her from here.” Keith dropped the papers on her desk “Also Griffin needs you to file these for him.”

“He could do it himself” Katie grumbled grabbing the papers and flicking through them “he didn't even bother filling some of these out!”

Keith quietly grabbed Lana’s arm and pulled her towards him as Katie got distracted with her angry mutterings “Sorry about her, she's just pissed that her dad lost his job to a hot shot whos dad just happens to be a governor.”

“Ah where would be be without nepotism” Lana chuckled letting Keith led her back into a small office where five other people were sat. She assumed the cells were behind one of the closed doors and perhaps the archive room behind another.

It had been a long time since she had been back here, it was certainly before the war was even a possibility and she had broken the wrong persons window and ended up having to wait for her mother by Corans desk.

People tend to say that places from your youth always seem so much smaller when you visit them again. Until now Lana wasn't really sure she bought into that nostalgia fueled nonsense.

But seeing the row of chairs her feet used to dangel off while she prepared an excuse for her behaviour for her furious mother now looked like they would fall apart if she just got too close let alone sat on one.

At least not all the changes were bad. Coran really did deserve that nice office and the title Detective neatly painted above his name.

“You know I was starting to think you wouldn't be coming” Keith said as they came to what Lana assumed was his desk. It was a little away from the others and scattered with paper work in various states of finished. It lacked much personality beyond a couple of knives and oh boy keith standing next to an incredibly attractive man that Lana realised fairly quickly must have been his older brother.

“To be honest i wasn't sure either, my life kinda went to hell but Aunt Blue and Red practically shoved me out of the door.”

Keith chuckled in response as her perched on the edge of his desk “that sounds about right. Though I hate to say it but you've kind of come on boring day. Everyones so desperate for something to do that their even taking the grunt work from me.”

“So what your just sitting around all day?” Lana asked right as a hand collided with her behind.

Lana likes to think herself an understanding woman. Or at least she tries to ever since the instadent where what she thought was a gropper on a train turned out to be a blind man having dropped his cain. So rather then turning around and grabbing the arm of whoever just did that to break over her knee she calmly turned to them.

She came face to face with a tall man that she unfortunately recognised.

James Griffin top of the class when they went to school together and by far the most arrogant man she ever met. And that was before he got a cushy job thanks to his dad.

Lana glared up at him giving him a chance to apologize or say he had mistaken her for his girlfriend that was into that kind of thing.

Instead he just smirked “wow Keith how did you find yourself this hot piece of ass.”

Ok she was going to break his nose now.

Unfortunately before she got the chance keith stepped in front of her “don't talk to her like that Griffin, Coran hired her himself as a consultant and i'm sure he wouldn't take that kind of behaviour.’

James rolled his eyes but did visibly tense as he shot a glance at the closed office door. “Whatever. This whole thing is just for press, whoever heard of a woman police officer. Their far too emotional.”

“Last I checked you were the one that cried when i kicked you in the nuts as kids.” Lana huffed crossing her arms.

“Ah buck teeth Lana! My my you did fill out nicely. How about after work I take you out?” Jame smiled looking her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl.

“How about I tell your mother that you slap my ass, if i remember right she was a reasonable woman.”

Oh how quickly his attitude changed. He swallowed whatever response he had ready and scurried off to his office next to Corans.

“What a creep.”

“Yeah but a rich one.” Keith sighed “you ok?”

“Yeah just kinda pissed i didn't get to make that jerk squeal like in highschool.” Lana noticed a small smirk appear at the corner of keiths lips at that and decided to take it as a win even if she could still feel his disgusting hand on her.

Unfortunately the next few hours were not as exciting.

Lana pulled up a chair across from Keith and kept herself busy by flicking pieces of paper at him, an activity that he avoided joining in with for exactly ten minutes.

They were so wrapped up in their game that they didn't notice coran standing next to the desk until after Keith made the winning shot and jumped up to let out a victory cry.

“It's nice to see you've found a way to keep miss Mclain here entertained during our slow day.” Coran chuckled as Keith startled and quickly cleared his throat trying to hide the blush quickly creeping up his face.

“Detective i can explain”

Coran held his hand up quickly cutting him off “no need, I understand the importance of a bit of fun to avoid dying of boredom. The time for that has now sadly passed im sending you to look into a missing persons cases.”

Keith and lana exchanged a look, while lana’s was excitement Keiths was confusion.

“Sir while im happy for a case why not give it to someone else? Im sure all the others would kill for a case right now.”

Coran simply chuckled to himself handing over a case file “because Kogane your the only officer here I trust not to get side tracked while investigating. That and i'm sure Lana here will make sure your eyes don't wander too far.”

Lana wasn't really sure what he meant by that until they got to the scene of the crime.

Or as everyone else calls it the ‘Galra Gentlemens Club’.

When the club first opened it was met with outcry from the church and the school boards and well anyone with too much time on their hands.

Now after being open for more than a decade, those same people have become the most lucrative clientele, who know stuck up prudes could have such deep pockets for the sinful arts.

Keith had kindly offered to give Lana a ride on the handlebars of his bike since the club was located uphill from the station and there was no way the poor old police car would make it up the whole way. Apparently a replacement was on its way but they had been promising it since before the war.

Lana had of course told Keith that while she appreciate the offer she would find the very idea outlandishly improper, so of course made him ride the handle bars while she put her years of missing the bus and not wanting to be late training to good use.

After a quick check with her compact and a nod to Keith they entered the club.

Lana was no stranger to Gentlemens clubs, she had been to more than a few during the war to meet with people who were usually a lot more willing to give up information when they had a few drinks in them.

This club was no different, everything was a sickening deep purple as if the colour alone could make it classy or hide the disturbingly prominent wet patches on the couches.

Lana tried her very best not to stare at the men already here this early on a weekday morning and instead focused on following Keith back to see the manger.

“Just let me do the talking, guys like this aren't always that nice to women” Keith whispered as he knocked on the door and it swung open to not show a greasy man but instead a very tall muscular woman with short black hair wearing a suit.

Lana felt her mouth go dry just looking at her.

“A-are you the manager here?” Keith asked clearly feeling equally intimidated and aroused as Lana was.

“Yeah i am, who wants to know?” She asked leaning against the doorway and looking down at him. Her gaze however moved quickly from keith to Lana and a smile spread across her face.

“Usually we don't hire new talent outside of auditions but for  a beautiful girl like you im willing to make an exception.”

“I” Lana squeaked finding herself speechless for the first time in a long time.

Thankfully Keith came to her rescue before she could actually contemplate working for this greek god of a woman.

“Actually we came from the police station. You called about one of the dancers going missing?”

The woman nodded and stepped back into the room hurrying them inside before closing the door.

“Yeah my best girl Ezor, she was seen leaving the club last week but no one has seen her since.”

“Does she often disappear like this? Perhaps to visit a gentleman caller miss...?” Keith asked pulling out a notebook while Lana looked around the office.

“Zethrid…. And trust me she's not the sorts to make house calls.”

It was fairly empty save for a punching bag in the corner and a few pictures on the walls. Most of them were group shots of all the dancers in costumes. But those actually on the desk seemed only to contain Zethrid and a slim woman with pink hair tied in a high ponytail. It was just the two of them over and over again smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

“Is this Ezor here?” Lana asked picking up one picture showing the two in the park, judging from the bunting and celebrating in the background it was the day the allie ‘won’ the war.

Zethrid nodded “yeah that's her… we actually live together and yeah she disappears sometimes but never for this long and never without contacting me.”

“Is it possible she ran off with a sweetheart?” Keith asked taking the picture.

“She wouldn't. I know she's been taken its the only explanation.”

Something told Lana that this relationship was deeper than friendship “The last night she was seen, was there anything unusual happening?”

Zethrid thought for a moment “now that you mention it there was a black car parked outside the club all day. I didn't give it much mind incase it was a customer trying to work up the nerve to come in but it left right after she did.”

“Did you happen to catch the plates?” Keith asked hopefully only to let out a disappointed sigh when she shook her head no.

“But the car was old looking with a dent in the drivers side door.”

Keith noted it down “thanks we will be in touch.”

He led the way out but Zethrid grabbed Lana by the arm before she could leave “please i can't imagine life without her… she's my best friend.”

Lana knew what it was like to lose one of those. So she smiled and put a hand over hers “I promise ill do everything I can to find her.”

Once they were safely outside keith let out a groan “you should promise people anything, it just means you'll get attached to the case.”

“Isn't that the job of a detective though? How can i love a case if i don't care about it?” Lana huffed hitching up her skirt and getting on the bike.

“I'm just saying that it will end up hurting you more if we find her dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Lana rolled her eyes “ever the optimist huh Mullet. Besides we have a lead how many people in town have old black cars?”

“Excluding the police cruiser i'd say seven.” Keith noticed the sceptical look Lana was giving him and rolled his eyes.

“My brother owns the mechanics remember, i help out sometimes and not many people really have cars round here.”

Lana sighed “maybe we should get a second opinion from your dreamy brother.” she batted her eyelashes playfully at him as he climbed onto the handle bars.

“Shut up and pedal we've got a lot of groundwork to do.”

Five hours!

It took five hours to find all the cars, to check for dents and alibis.

In that time Lana fell into two ditches, got attacked by a chicken and the rip in her dress traveled up to past her knee.

As her mother would say she's only some red lipstick away from looking like a whore.

Lana wished she could say that time was well spent and while watching Keith getting chased by an angry family of pigeons that had taken resident in one of the old cars they ultimately ended up on a dead end.

So while the light began to fade and the two slowly walked up to the station the mood was sour.

“It could always have been someone from out of town?” Lana suggested holding the split in her dress to try and keep it from travelling any higher.

“No they would have been too noticeable. If someone from out of town drove through here everyone would know about it by now. We must have missed something.”

Lana shivered in the cool air and was surprised when Keith handed over his jacket without taking his eyes off the path.

The red really did suit him better but the warmth from his body made her feel better.

“We should check surrounding houses tomorrow, maybe one of the cars was taken without the owner realising.”

“And what they dented it and then undented it?’ Keith snorted “no if the dent was fixed it would have had to come through the shop. Shiro may be able to help.”

“I'll try to hide my disappointment” Lana laughed earning her a playful push from Keith which she returned.

The two were laughing and having a moment of fun that when cold hard reality finally came crashing down Lana felt like she had been punched in the face.

Just as they walked in the car they were looking for pulled in behind them.

Old, black and with a large dent on the side.

The only problem was that it was Coran driving it.

[crowley-fe11]

Taken Memories

You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like ineffable husbands.

Stranger: (Heaven has always systematically removed Aziraphale's memories of Crowley, whenever they contained too much affection for the adversary. That's why, over the years, he has seemed to push Crowley away so suddenly each time they got too close. But this is after Armageddon, when they've left their respective sides) Crowley, dear, did we ever visit Italy? I'm having a rather baffling recurring dream. A

You: I mean, ran into each other in Rome nearly two millennia ago. We had dinner together. C

Stranger: Two millenia? That's just like my dream! Did we eat oysters, by any chance? A

You: We did, I'd never tried them before that, and so you insisted on taking me to dinner. C

Stranger: ...Tempting you to dinner? A

You: Well, you did correct yourself, but yes. You did initially phrase it like that. C

Stranger: It all really happened. A

You: Yes, it did. C

Stranger: How could I have forgotten? The way you looked at me, after that absolutely terrible choice of word... A

You: I have a feeling I know how you did. C You see, I think heaven was taking precautions in making sure we didn't get too close with one another. C

Stranger: They knew about our friendship, all this time? A

You: Perhaps, but they had control over it in a way. C At least for a while. C

Stranger: They made me forget you. A

You: Parts of me, yes. C I think whenever we got too close for their comfort, they'd take a memory or two, and then you weren't as comfortable with me. C This would happen quite a bit. C

Stranger: (...) I don't know what to say, I'm afraid. What other memories am I missing? A

You: I think the easier question to ask first is what memories do you have? C

Stranger: I remember most of the Arrangement. Performing your Temptations for you. Most of my memories of us are neutral in tone. Work-related. There are quite a few dinners, and evenings in the back room with bottles of wine, but they seem awfully flat. A

You: Well, if things are coming back bit by bit, there might be a point where they all will. C Though there are a few I'm incredibly fond of, if you'd like me to share them with you. C

Stranger: I would like that very much. A

You: There's the Bastille. You were in the process of opening up the bookshop, but you had a craving for crepes and brioche. C So you popped over to Paris in the midst of the French Revolution, and you were imprisoned and about to be executed. C I intervened, since you were intent on not miracling yourself out of it after Gabriel reprimanded you. C But I got you out, and we went for crepes. C Something about the whole situation was so endearing, and I'll never forget about it. C

Stranger: You rescued me. You rescued.

Stranger: *You rescued me, Crowley. From the humans with their tempers and from Gabriel withh

Stranger: *with his... A

You: I couldn't just leave you, Angel. C Though that wasn't the last time I had your back. C

Stranger: I don't doubt it, my dear. When after that? How many times over do I owe this corporation to you.

Stranger: *? A

You: Please, you don't owe me anything. C Though if you want to know, it was during the Blitz. C I have a feeling you got swept up in some Nazi scheme posing as British Intelligence efforts to mislead or catch the Germans. C But you had brought books of prophecy to German spies, and they were about to eliminate you when I showed up. C It was in a bloody church of all places, so that made walking pleasant. C But long story short, I dropped a bomb on the church, and made sure your books were safe. C

Stranger: (...) You walked into a church for me. You walked into a church, saved my life again, /and/ you're the reason I still have my books of prophecy? A

You: You would have been heartbroken if you didn't have those by the end of that. C

Stranger: Crowley? A

You: Yes, Angel? C

Stranger: Do you suppose that if, hypothetically, I felt particularly close to you now, Heaven might allow me to keep the feeling? A

You: After the scare we gave both Heaven and Hell, I don't think they'd dare get in our way now. C

Stranger: In that case, you are the most wonderful, patient, ridiculous... You are the best person I have ever known. Thank you. A

You: Angel, I'm only ever any of those things with you. C

Stranger: Then I am doubly honoured. A

You: And I'm incredibly lucky for your companionship. C

Stranger: I can only apologise for all you must have been through. A

Stranger: May I make it up to you, and, ah, tempt you to dinner this evening? A

You: You have no need to apologise for anything, Angel. C But I would be delighted. What do you have in mind? C

Stranger: I know an absolutely delightful little Mediterranean place with a reputation for oysters... A

You: Starting to feel a bit nostalgic then? C

Stranger: I've lost so much time with you. A

You: I don't think we'll have to worry about losing any more of it, at least. C

Stranger: I hope not. Will you tell me, if it happens? A

You: Of course I would. C But if you have a memory that's resurfacing, who's to say more won't? C

Stranger: I would like to recover all of them. Every moment with you. A

[thetravelerwrites]

Setting the Record Straight

Rating: General Audiences Fandom: 魔法使いの嫁 | Mahou Tsukai no Yome | The Ancient Magus Bride Characters: Elias Ainsworth, Hatori Chise, Ruth, Silkie, Alice Words:3985

Chise gets annoyed by people asking if she's afraid of Elias and explains exactly why she's not. Please Leave feedback.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted their afternoon tea. Elias turned his head, but Chise shot up and was at the door before he could speak.

"Alice!" He heard Chise say in surprise. "Hi, what brings you by?"

Elias stood, allowing Silver to collect their dishes, and followed Chise out into the hall. Ruth padded after him.

"Hey there," Alice said cheerfully, standing on the porch of the Ainsworth residence. She held up a gift bag. "I heard it was your birthday not too long ago. I stopped by to give you this."

Chise stepped back to give her room to enter. "Oh,” She said softly. "You didn't have to buy me a gift."

Alice laughed as she stepped inside. "Don't worry, I didn't buy it. It's a hand-me-down. I got a new one, so I thought you like to have this one. It still works great, I just don't need two." She looked up at Elias and chuckled. "That is, if your jailer here is allowing contraband."

"Die," Elias said gruffly.

Alice stepped past him, flipping her hair, and made for the sitting room without invitation. Chise looked at Elias questioningly.

"It's fine," Elias said. "I'll be in the study."

She smiled and nodded, following Alice with Ruth on her heels. The door closed behind them with a snap.

Sighing, he made for the study but stopped when he realized he'd left the book he was reading on the kitchen table and doubled back for it.

He could hear the voices of the two young women muffled through the door and decided not to intrude, but hearing his own name made him stop and lean against the wall, listening. He had a vague sense that perhaps this was a private conversation, but curiosity got the better of him.

"I doubt the bonehead would give you one of these," Alice said haughtily.

"I don't think Elias even knows what it is," Chise said, laughing softly. "He's not too familiar with modern technology; at least, not that I've seen. He doesn't even own a radio or a landline phone."

"I don't know what kind of music you like, but I have pretty eclectic tastes, so I put a mix of everything on there. If there's anything you like particularly, I can replace the songs you don't like with more of the kind you do."

"Thanks, Alice, this is really nice," Chise replied.

"So what did Elias get you for your birthday?"

"He saved my life. That's gift enough for me."

"You mean from the freak?"

"Cartaphilus isn't a freak, Alice. He was just in a lot of pain. Pain can make people do terrible things."

There was a silence, during which time Elias remembered a few terrible things he'd done while he had been in pain. He hadn't recognized it as pain at the time because it wasn't physical; it was inside his chest and stomach and gnawed at him as though trying to eat it's way out of his body.

It wasn't until after he recovered Chise and had a long talk with her that he realized the pain he felt in her absence was emotional. He was experiencing loss, grief, and guilt: three emotions with which he had been previously unfamiliar because he'd never felt them before. He was hoping now that he knew what they were, he'd be able to react better in the future should such feelings arise again, though he dearly hoped that they never would.

He had heard such feelings could cause a person to die. Before, he didn’t believe such a thing could be possible, but now he was absolutely certain it was true. If Chise left again never to return, if she were to die, could he survive that? He wasn’t sure. And even if he did survive, he would never be the same. One day of rejection was enough to destroy what humanity he possessed and reverted him back to a mindless monster, lost and devastated. If she were gone forever? If he never saw her face or heard her voice again? He feared what he might become.

Chise’s soft laughter brought him back to his senses. It was sometimes difficult to catch the undercurrent of a conversation if he couldn't see the faces of those speaking, so he melted into the wall and shimmied under the door to find a shadow within the sitting room to hide in. He caught Silver's disapproving stare as he slipped under, but ignored it.

Alice was sitting in the chair closest to the door and Chise was on the couch with Ruth's head in her lap. There was a small, white, rectangular device with a accompanying cords sitting on the coffee table. This must have been Alice's gift. Chise was right: he had no idea what that was.

"I still can't get over seeing Ainsworth turn into that huge... thing," Alice began again.

Chise didn't respond, and Elias wondered what she was thinking. Her face was impassive.

"I mean, I'd never admit this to anyone but you, but that guy scares me when he goes all beast-mode. Weren't you scared?"

"Yes, I was," Chise said, and Elias felt deep sinking in his gut. Chise always swore he didn't frighten her, but deep down he always felt that he must. How could he not? Could she have been lying? Why? To spare his feelings? She was kind enough to do so, but the thought that he truly did frighten her made him feel... he didn't know. Disappointed? No, that wasn't strong enough. Disheartened? Disconcerted? Some sort of word with the letter D in it.

"I wasn't scared of Elias, though," Chise clarified a second later, and the heaviness Elias felt evaporated. He took a breath, not realizing he hadn't been breathing.

"I was scared of the situation. I was afraid to lose Elias or Ruth, or Stella, or you. I was afraid Cartaphilus or Ashen Eye would kill one of you. I was afraid I would fail and I wouldn't be able to fix the damage I had caused. There was a lot fear and anxiety bouncing around in my head, but none of it was because of Elias."

She paused, and a shadow passed across her face, barely discernible, gone in an instant. Elias couldn’t say what it meant, but it caused an unpleasant prickling sensation in him.

She took a breath and smiled. "I know who and what Elias is. I know he can take on may forms. None of them scare me. It never has."

"Really?" Alice asked in disbelief. "You're not scared of him? Not at all?"

Suddenly, Chise's voice rose in exasperation. "Why is that so hard to believe?" She asked, throwing up her hands. "Do you know how tired I am of people asking me that, especially him?"

There was a stunned silence. Alice had backed away a little. Ruth even seemed surprised.

Chise sighed and held up her hands placatingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Look, let me tell you a story, alright?"

"Okay," Alice said slowly.

Chise closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "When I was eight, I was sent to an orphanage for girls in a small town outside of Okayama. By that age, I was used to doing things by myself, so I just got on with it. No one took enough notice of me to tell me what to do, so there was no need to ask permission, I just did what I needed to do. It was enough to go on with, and I survived it fairly well.” Her eyes went flat with introspection. “I think that’s why I’m so bad at letting people help me. I’m so used to being on my own and doing for myself that it just doesn’t occur to me to ask for help most of the time. I’m still getting used to that.”

“I totally get that,” Alice said. “My parents were blitzed out of the minds most of the time, so I was pretty much a street kid. I did whatever I wanted, as long as wasn’t hassled too much. A kid alone on the street is pretty much a target for every lowlife looking to take advantage. I learned to use a knife to my advantage pretty early on.”

Chise listened sympathetically in silence and waited as if expecting Alice to expand upon her story. Instead, Alice motioned for Chise to continue.

"On my first day of school in the new town, I left the orphanage and walked to school alone. To get there, you had to pass the town center. There was a big ornamental fountain right in the middle, and sitting on it was a huge red creature the size of a double-decker bus. No one else could see it; they passed it by like it wasn’t a giant nightmare looming over all of their heads. Oblivious.

“The… thing, whatever it was, was made up of nothing but tentacles, teeth, and eyeballs. Now, I was used to seeing weird things all the time and I'd gotten used to living in a constant state of anxiousness, but this was the biggest, creepiest thing I'd ever seen. It terrified me more than anything else had up to that point. I still have nightmares about it.

“I tried to ignore it, but somehow it realized I could see it and it began to follow me. It followed me to school and sat outside my classroom window, making obscene faces at me. It followed me back to the home and sat outside my bedroom window, licking the glass. It followed me for three months."

"Jesus," Alice said in an undertone.

Chise's face was dark and pained. "It constantly told me it was going to steal me away and drink my blood. It told me all the terrible things it wanted to do to me. It delighted in seeing how scared I was. It told me that as soon as I let my guard down, it would get me, and then it would lash out at me. It’s tentacles were apparently covered in barbs, because it left cuts and scratches all over me. I stopped sleeping. I stole a knife and hid it under my pillow. I kept arriving at school and back home covering in cuts and bruises. People thought I was insane and hurting myself. They didn't believe that there was this awful thing hunting me and hurting me. No one listened.

"One night, I was so tired that I couldn't stop myself and I fell asleep. I woke up because I felt a pain in my leg and when I opened my eyes, I realized that thing had managed to get the window open and was dragging me outside by my ankle. My leg was cut wide open and bleeding everywhere. I used the knife to cut at it and it let go and disappeared. The caretakers saw me with a knife in my hand and a huge gash in my leg and assumed I had done it to myself. It was the first and only time I ever threw a real screaming fit. I cried and yelled and shouted and told the caretakers that it would kill me. I told them that if they didn’t send me far away, I would run away myself. They thought I had lost mind.”

"Did they move you, though?" Alice asked.

"Oh, yes," Chise replied flatly. "To a mental asylum. The doctors there diagnosed me with paranoid depressive schizo-affective disorder with a tendency toward self harm. They deemed me a danger to myself and others and I was kept in a locked room by myself for six months."

"Holy shit," Alice breathed. Elias was equally shocked.

"Yeah." Chise was silent for a moment. "It wasn't as bad as you might think, though. The asylum had iron bars on the window, which I didn't know at the time was keeping the bad things out. It was the first time in my life I didn't see things that other people couldn't. Being alone for once was kind of nice. There was no one telling me how delicious I was. There were no creatures trying to scare me. It was quiet, but it was a peaceful quiet. I thought maybe I was actually crazy and that being at the asylum was making me better. But then they released me, and all the bad things came back. The medicine they gave me didn't help. If anything, it made me feel more crazy.

"But you know what the worst part of that story is?" Chise asked Alice, who shook her head. "That tentacle creature was not unique. It stands out in my head because it stalked me for so long, but there have been many monsters like it trying to hurt me my whole life. Some of them succeeded, and some of them weren't even fae. Humans can be just as monstrous as the monsters."

Her eyes were dark, and Alice nodded knowingly. Elias felt disquieted. Chise often talked about her past experiences with fae creatures but was far less open about her experiences with other humans. Elias hadn't thought much about it before, but now he wondered just how much she had suffered at the hands of her own people.

"When I first saw Elias, was I surprised? Yes, of course," Chise admitted. "But I wasn't scared. Compared to that red monstrosity that terrorized me outside of Okayama, Elias was practically cuddly."

Alice snorted at the description. "Cuddly isn't the word I would use to describe Ainsworth."

"You don't know him," Chise blurted out, then bit her lip. Alice smirked at her and narrowed her eyes.

"You have weird taste," Alice said.

"Hey," Ruth retorted, lifting his head off of the couch next to Chise. She patted him down.

"No, she's right," Chise said with a laugh. "But weird isn't the same as wrong."

"I suppose that's true," Alice admitted. She stood up and stretched.

"Leaving already?" Chise asked, a little disappointed.

"Yeah, sorry," Alice said. "Renfred and I are running a new test at the college tomorrow and I gotta be up early. I just wanted to make sure you got your gift. Maybe someday soon I can take you out to lunch, though."

Chise smiled in return. "That sounds nice."

Elias used the distraction of Alice's departure to quickly jump through the shadows to his study. He rematerialized and sat at his desk, attempting to look busy and preoccupied.

He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called.

Chise opened the door and Ruth followed her inside.

Elias attempted to be nonchalant. "How was your visit with Renfred's apprentice?"

"She has a name, Elias," Chise said, her hand on her hips. She wore a frown. "You know, it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations."

Elias sucked in a breath. So she had known he was there. She was becoming very perceptive to him, not always to his benefit.

"My apologies," he said. No point in denying it. "I was curious." He tried changing the subject. "What gift did she give you?"

"Oh." Chise held up the white rectangle. "It's an MP3 player."

"A what?" He asked, baffled.

"A music player," she clarified. The white cord attached to the rectangle branched into two separate cords, at the ends of which sat little round objects. "You select a song you'd like to hear," she said, demonstrating. He saw a small screen flip through song titles. "And then the music plays through the earphones." She held one up for him, but then faltered. "Uhh..."

"Yes?"

"Do you have ears?"

That was an interesting question. Did he? "I am obviously capable of perceiving sound, though I am not sure from where."

She frowned again. "Bend down."

He obliged her, and she held out her fingers next to where he assumed he might have ears were he human, and snapped them. "Is that louder than normal?"

"No, but I think you're on to something. Try again."

After some trial and error, they determined he best perceived sound just behind and slightly above the bone that made up his lower mandible. There was a shadowy hollow there than may have actually been an ear canal. She held an ear bud there and pressed play.

Elias listened for a moment and said, "Ah, I see."

Chise smiled and put the other bud in her ear, and they listened to the song together.

"What a pleasant tune," Elias said as the song ended. "This was a thoughtful gift."

"Yes," Chise agreed. "I like it very much.”

Elias straightened as Chise put the music device in her pocket. Chise turned to leave Elias to his work when he stopped her.

“Chise,” He began slowly. “Is what you told Alice true? About my monstrous forms never frightening you?”

Chise sighed in frustration. “Again? How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?”

“At one point, you seemed to hesitate. Why?”

Chise was silent, and Elias thought she might deny it. She looked down at the floor. Ruth nudged her hand and gave her a pointed look. She sighed again.

“Look, I want to be as honest with you as I can be,” She began. “The truth is, your forms don’t scare me. The fact that you used to eat humans doesn’t scare me. The fact that you’re bigger and stronger and more powerful than me doesn’t scare me. The fact that if you wanted to, you could devour me in three bites has never bothered me at all.”

“But?”

She paused and sucked in a long, shaky breath. “But you did scare me once. You scare me when you do things you think are rational, when you act in a way that puts others at risk because you want to help me.”

“You’re referring to what happened with Stella,” Elias said.

“Yes,” Chise said, still avoiding his eye. “You really scared me then, Elias.”

“I know,” He replied mournfully. “And I am truly sorry. I did not understand then what I stood to lose. I understand now.” He grew thoughtful and said, “When you confronted me, you said you thought I was different. You cried. I didn’t understand what you meant.”

Chise did look at him then. “The fae treat humans like they’re disposable. Like tools to be used until they’re no longer valuable and then tossed away. I had thought, because you were part human, that you would value human life more than other fae did. I was… disappointed to learn that I was wrong.”

Now it was Elias who failed to meet Chise’s eye. He hung his head, feeling guilty. There was another feeling there, one he couldn’t put a name to.

“You don’t have to love every human out there, Elias. You don’t even have to like any of them. But people are not expendable. You can’t use them with no regard to how it will effect them or the people in their lives. My life is not worth more than Stella’s, or any other human being, just because you care more about me and less about them.”

Elias was unsure he understood this. Chise was infinitely more important to him than any other human. He would gladly sacrifice every life on Earth if it meant saving hers, fae and human alike. Was that wrong? He didn’t understand how.

“What if you had succeeded?” Chise continued. “What if you had transferred the curse to Stella and she died in my place? Can you imagine how her family would feel if she never came home?”

“I’m afraid I cannot,” He replied.

“Don’t you remember how you felt when I left you and you didn’t know if I’d come back?”

“Yes, I felt…” Elias thought for a moment. The pain he felt when she left surfaced again and he struggle to put it into words. Cold was inadequate. So was lonely. It took him several minutes of reflection before he finally decided on a word that felt appropriate.

“Broken.”

Chise’s eyes widened and her lips parted. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. After a moment, though, she got back on track.

“Don’t you think that’s how her family would have felt? Losing a child is devastating for most parents. If you had gone through with it, you wouldn’t only have killed her, but you would have broken her entire family as well. Some people can’t live with that kind of loss. My mother couldn’t. I barely could. Don’t you realize that?”

He hadn’t. Elias had not even taken Stella’s family into consideration in his single-minded fervor to complete the ritual. His jaws opened in surprise as sudden understanding filled his mind.

“I see,” He said in a wondering tone. “I see.”

“Do you?” She asked him. She took his face in her hands and made him look her in the eye. “Do you really see?”

“Yes, I believe I do. Loss is a terrible thing to endure. It is not a feeling I would wish upon another.” He huffed unhappily. “Is this what it is to empathize?”

Chise nodded.

“This lesson in human behavior was certainly hard-learned.” He replied.

“Yes,” She agreed. “It’s one I wish I had taught you sooner.”

Elias sighed. “I am trying, Chise,” He said plaintively. “I’m trying to learn, even though it is difficult for me to grasp at times.”

“I know you are, Elias. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. If I thought you couldn’t learn, I’d never be able to stay with you.”

“I know.” He leaned his long skull against her forehead. “Believe me, I never wish to lose you again. I need you to help me understand so that I can do better. If you are willing to be patient with me, I shall endeavor to try harder.”

She sighed and smiled, planting a soft peck on the ridge above his nose. “That’s all I can ask for.”

“Chise,” He said, pulling back to look at her better. “I feel an emotion that I cannot identify. I’ve felt it since that day when you discovered my plan and ran from me, when you cried and struck me. Can you help me understand?”

“Yes,” She replied earnestly. “What does it feel like?”

“Guilt, but stronger. A cold knot in my stomach that makes me anxious and sets my nerves on edge. But at the same time, it makes me sad. Do you know what it might be?”

She considered him, hanging his head like a berated dog and not looking at her.

“I’m not completely sure, but I think it might be… shame.”

Elias straightened and looked down at her, processing the information. “Yes. I believe you’re correct,” He said quietly. “I am ashamed.”

“That’s good,” Chise said encouragingly.

“It is?”

“Yes. It means you truly understand your mistake and are capable of learning from it. That’s a good step going forward.”

“How do I make this awful feeling go away?” He asked a little desperately. “It is most distressing.”

“Maybe you could do something nice for Stella,” She offered. “Invite her for tea, or even go with me the next time I visit her family.”

Elias nodded. “Both are fine ideas. I will do that.”

“Good,” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight. He draped his arms over her shoulders in return, nuzzling her head with his snout, careful not to snag his teeth on her skin.

From the circle of his arms, she looked up at him with her wide, lovely eyes. “Would you like to listen to some music with me?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Elias responded. “After, I’d like to hear more about your childhood, if that’s all right.”

“Sure,” She said, taking his hand and leading him back to the sitting room.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[kellysbookblog]

RELEASE BLITZ Title: JETT Series: Savage Saints MC #3 Author: Carmen Jenner Genre: MC Romance Release Date: May 26, 2020

My GR Review; https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3346876365?book_show_action=false

My Amazon Review: https://www.amazon.com/gp/customer-reviews/RNU84C4T3PK4L?ref=pf_ov_at_pdctrvw_srp

BLURB Could you love a man who had become your ruin? Jett As the president of the Savage Saints MC, I’ve got a million goddamn problems. I thought the woman who cleans my clubhouse would be the least of them. But that’s just what Raine Levick is—a f*cking problem. My problem. Not because she’s sweet and likely gonna get herself killed without the club’s protection, but because I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t stop wanting her. I’ve got a ring on my finger that belongs to someone else, but when the bodies pile up, staying away from her is a war I can’t win. Even if it breaks us both—and it will break us. Raine I fell for Jetthro King the second I laid eyes on him. He took me in and gave me a job, a family, and the club’s protection, but he broke my heart all in the same breath. Love, loss, ruin. That’s what falling for the MC President gets you. He’s a married man. I have no right to want him because I’ve been keeping secrets of my own and once Jett finds out, he may never look at me the same way again. Warning: JETT contains graphic violence, loss, and sensitive subject matter that may cause some readers emotional discomfort. Intended for an 18+ audience only. Not intended for pussies. GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24868507-jett

PURCHASE LINKS US: https://amzn.to/3g64XDz UK: https://amzn.to/2z78LUK CA: https://amzn.to/36kadPx AU: https://amzn.to/2TpnAZz Free in Kindle Unlimited EXCERPTS #1 “What the fuck did you just say?” He stands, kicking his chair to the ground. His lips curl into a sneer. I see now why he makes such a savage and formidable enemy. I back up, but I have nowhere to go. For the first time since we met, I’m afraid of him. Jett stalks forward, pressing his hands into the counter on either side of me. I’m trapped, penned, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get off on it. He smells like whiskey, leather, and longing, and although I don’t like him very much right now, I wish he’d close the distance between us. I wish that mouth would turn from a vicious snarl to a warm and inviting kiss. “I care. I fuckin’ care too much. Is that what you want to hear, babe? You wanna know how fuckin’ sick I feel that he was there to protect you and I wasn’t? You know how much I wanna beat his fuckin’ head in right now? Because my club brother is holding your hand, sharin’ your bed, sliding between those pretty, milky thighs of yours, and I’m just itching to sink my blade into his chest for takin’ what’s mine. So you ask me again if I fuckin’ care.” #2 “You want me to choose? You want me to walk away from the club? Fine. It’s done. I’d give up everything for you, Raine. I’d go to ground faster than you could blink if I thought it would make you happy. If I thought you could look at me again without being sick.” “Jett—” He holds up his hand to silence me. “I get you’re heartbroken. I am too. I lost fuckin’ everything that day, but us being apart doesn’t change it. You punishing me doesn’t change the fact you love me.” He’s right. It doesn’t, but I’m not avoiding him because I want to punish him, I’m not going back because I don’t know how to love someone who’s been my undoing, whose decisions have caused me to lose my entire world. I take a deep breath and grab the door handle. I finally meet his gaze as I say, “No, it won’t, but maybe time will.” “Raine—” “I love you, Jetthro, but not enough to forgive you.” #3 “You’re going to burn, motherfucker, and I’m going to stand right outside and watch.” I turn and head out of the house, followed by my boys. Grim hands me the Molotov cocktail and I light the end of the kerosene-soaked rag and hurl it at the front porch. Orange flames lick a midnight sky. The whole house burns, but there’s still a thirst for revenge in my blood, an itch that no amount of torture will scratch because they broke my old lady. I broke her. I broke the one good and pure thing in my life. I’m the fucking president of Sydney’s most notorious motorcycle club and my stupidity cost me everything. It cost us everything. #4 “Jesus fucking Christ. Can’t a man jack it in peace?” “Sorry.” My voice is merely a squeak as I consider my options. I could attempt to scurry away before he opens the door, but this hallway is long and there’s no place to hide. Instead, I stand my ground and prepare to face the wrath of a very pissed-off Jett. Jett yanks back the door. He’s shirtless. Water beads on his chest and torso. Or perhaps it’s sweat. Either way, I’d like to lick it from his skin and shove my hand into those unbuttoned leathers that he’s clearly straining against. His blue eyes switch from murderous rage to easy and inviting all in the space of a heartbeat. “I didn’t know it was you.” “Yep, only me. Your friendly neighbourhood bar wench.” Friendly neighbourhood bar wench? Oh my God. What is wrong with me? The corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. One that belongs to another woman, but he graces me with it all the same. His damp wheat-blond hair brushes the tops of his shoulders. Would it be silky to the touch, fall into his eyes or brush my cheek as his body hovered over me? He appears calmer tonight—not at all the menacing man who started his own biker club. Not at all how he looks in his cut, with his scruffy beard, his hair slicked back, and a gavel in his hands. He looks … soft. But looks are misleading. Every inch of him is hard … at least, that’s how I imagine him. It’s not as though I’ll ever get the chance to find out. He’s married, and I’m … well, there’s no point in fantasising about something you can’t have. “I’m heading out for the day.” I’m also blushing right to the roots of my hair. I can feel it. “Unless, of course, you need me?” He licks his lips. His eyes roam over my body. Those devious baby blues say he needs me, but it’s not to clean his clubhouse. “I need a lot of things, darlin’.” A quiet sigh passes his lips and washes over my face. He smells like whiskey and cigarettes. It’s a heady mix. Or maybe it’s just the man himself who makes me half-drunk with adoration. “But you go on home. I reckon you’ve had enough of dirty bikers for one day.” ALSO AVAILABLE #1 KICK – FREE for a very limited time! US: https://amzn.to/2XgTCb9 UK: https://amzn.to/2WNaFmk CA: https://amzn.to/2LJ0ybN AU: https://amzn.to/3bUxokV Always free in Kindle Unlimited #2 TANK – 99c for a very limited time! US: https://amzn.to/3g5rJvx UK: https://amzn.to/2XihxXO CA: https://amzn.to/3e2rfnX AU: https://amzn.to/2Zl6Syh Free in Kindle Unlimited

AUTHOR BIO Carmen Jenner is a USA Today and international bestselling author. A hardcore red lipstick addict and a romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture? AUTHOR LINKS Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Carmen-Jenner/e/B00GEUI8VI Newsletter: https://www.subscribepage.com/carmenjenner Website: http://www.carmenjenner.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CarmenJennerAuthor Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/TheSugarJunkies Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carmenjennerauthor Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/carmen-jenner Book+Main: https://bookandmainbites.com/users/2266 Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com.au/carmenjenner

[theeroticbookreview]

Release Blitz: On the Rocks (Kingston Brothers #1) Isabel Lucero

Amazon  Nook  Kobo  iBooks 

  You learn a lot about people pouring their drinks and London is what I would consider a regular. Like clockwork, she’s been coming into my bar twice a week for the last year. Besides her name, I've learned that she’s witty, beautiful, and unfortunately... taken. She's in a relationship with a guy that I'm pretty sure doesn't deserve her. Respecting that is the only thing stopping me from figuring out the things I really want to know. Things like, what her body feels like against mine, or how she tastes on my tongue. But one evening, everything changes. London comes in and tells me that they broke up. One drink leads to two, and she finally confesses that this attraction isn't one sided. Our slow burn is about to get blazing hot. I wasn't just looking for a one-night stand, not with a girl like her. But next thing you know, the ex is back. He's in my bar, sitting next to her. We try to act like there isn’t a connection between us. Like our bodies weren’t made for each other and we didn’t set each other aflame with a single kiss. Every time I look at her, I see the flash in her eyes that tell me she’s remembering it too. Re-living every delicious second of our time spent together on top of this very bar. The problem is now that I know what she tastes like, I want more. On the rocks. It’s how London prefers her drinks, and the current state of her relationship. And I'm about to shake things up, because I’ll be damned if I let her get away.  

He peers up at me. “I haven’t been in relationships, because I don’t want to fall in love with someone and then lose them. I don’t want to open myself up to somebody, because I’m terrified something will happen to them, and I’ll be left ripped apart again. The fear of losing my brothers is excruciating enough. Finding someone I care deeply about just meant one more person that could devastate me. It might sound crazy, but it’s been my mindset since I was sixteen.” Royce stands up and holds my hands in his. “For years I haven’t allowed myself to feel love because I’ve been too afraid to feel pain. But just recently, I’ve realized that being without you is painful. You know why that is, right?” I swallow, looking up into his eyes, and though I think I know where he’s going, I shake my head. “Because I…” He stops himself and bites down on his lip before continuing. “Not being able to be with you is agonizing. It’s only gotten worse since I know what your body feels like in my arms. I remember the softness of your lips against mine. I love being your friend. Seeing and getting to know you over this last year has been great, but it’s not enough. I want to be able to call and text you without worrying that you’re with your boyfriend. I want to plan dates and take you out. When I see you walk into my bar I want to be able to wrap my arms around you and know you’re mine. “I know if we get together, there’s still a chance I could lose you, but I won’t make it easy. I’ll do any and everything to prove to you how much I care about you. I won’t let a day go by where you have to question your importance in my life. And I know we can’t fight death, but I’ll make sure we have no regrets in the life we spend together. I’ll make sure we enjoy every second whether it’s for two months or forty years. But I’d rather you be my girl for a small amount of time than to never know what it’s like to be your man.” I open my mouth to say something, close it and try again. There’s a million and one things going through my mind right now, and I can’t quite land on what I want to say first. When I open my mouth, he stops me before I find my words. “I just needed you to know how I felt. I wanted to open up to you so you could better understand me, as well as understand my feelings for you. I recognize your situation, and it’s a decision you need to make on your own, but I needed you to have all the cards before playing your hand.” He smiles and squeezes my hands, and I smile in return. “But don’t leave me hangin’ too long, okay?” “Okay.”

  Isabel Lucero is a bestselling author, finding joy in giving readers books for every mood.Born in a small town in New Mexico, Isabel was lucky enough to escape and travel the world thanks to her husband's career in the Air Force. Her and her husband have three kids and two dogs together, and currently reside in Delaware. When Isabel isn't on mommy duty or writing her next book, she can be found reading, or in the nearest Target buying things she doesn't need. Isabel loves connecting with her readers and fans of books in general. You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Web - Blog - Facebook - Instagram  Twitter - Amazon - Goodreads 

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[splitshortsyeah]

Flying Lotus 'Cosmogramma'

- Matt Duelka

I hate to admit that college taught me quite a lot. Each month I reach into my pockets in an attempt to reclaim my dignity one monthly payment at a time, but it was worth it. What I’m not afraid to admit is that the ACTUAL COLLEGE INSTITUTION probably only took part in about 15% of my acquired knowledge during that time. I had the opportunity of taking part in some uncredited extracurriculars that made up for the other 85% that allow me to know how to stand on my own 2 feet without a crutch to lean on.

One of those opportunities that helped me get to the “head of the class” was a brainchild of my breadthen Chris Winn, called NotDrugs.com. I would be doing an ill service of trying to give you all a proper derivation, but it was a way for some college kids with ambition, who were into some shit, to talk about that said shit, in a way all that you wanted to talk about the prior stated shit. That freedom, but also the acceptance of whatever was outputted onto the platform, to be without a “cage” of traditional format that kept you too close to the ground was, well, quite exhilarating. It was, though, completely trial by fire, and I learned to be able to take the pat on the backs just as easily as I was taking the punches in the gut. Some shit worked, other stuff didn’t. There was no hiding in the back of the classroom. Front and center, the best way to earn those calluses.

Equal to having the ability to learn to swim by diving into shark infested waters, I also was able to watch others do the same. Just taking a step back and absorbing from the small cohort we had was just as valuable at times. One folk in particular wrote something that introduced me to an artist – and an album – that 10 years later, altered my auditory acceptance valve moving forward. Julian Williams was that guy, a friend to this day, and man -- F THAT DUDE.

Not really. But you get it.

May 12th, 2010, Ju dropped a banger, a Ju-Banger if you will, and introduced me to Flying Lotus. ‘Cosmogramma’ was released about a month earlier (April-ish) and it was his third album (‘1983’ was his first in ’06, ‘Los Angeles’ was his second in ’08). It’s hard for me to put into words what it felt like listening to ‘Cosmogramma’ for the first time, because I don’t think I was that into it. Saying something like that in 2020 makes me want to go back and kidney punch myself until organ failure – but maybe that’s a little harsh.

Ju mentioned in his piece that FlyLo isn’t easy to take in immediately, or even after a few listens through. It’s jarring, and with ‘Cosmogramma’ specifically, arranged in a way that catches you off guard IMMEDIATELY if you aren’t ready. So even if you want to give it a chance, 30secs in most people might throw it away and not even try.

“They only thing I can describe it as is what Aliens would listen to while gliding through space.”

That was said 1 year ago, while at Danny George’s bachelor party. I had a few beverages and I thought everyone would collectively love to jam out to some ‘Cosmogramma’. I was very wrong.

Like I said, or like Ju said, it’s hard to declare it a gold medal winner off the bat if it’s a brand new sound for you. I didn’t give up on it though. I wasn’t sure why but there was something I wanted to like, and knew I could get into, but couldn’t figure out why it was so hard. So, I flipped back a few pages in the book of Flying Lotus and did my due diligence. I cued up ‘Los Angeles’ and checked myself into bootcamp.

‘Los Angeles’ is necessary in order to take in ‘Cosmogramma’. It’s still weird, still out there, but it comes at you with soft jabs and telegraphed body shots before the haymakers start to show up. It gives you time to warm up, like a mile or so jog, before the racing begins. It’s lovely, brings me smiles. I can lose myself in this album – walk from Battery park to the Cloisters, and not even remember if I had gotten dressed for the day yet.

The second half of ‘Los Angeles’ (probably by the time “GNG BNG” comes on, you should be lubed up and ready to go) is where things start to go off the rails (in a spectacular way) and you start to just fire away on all cylinders. And then by the time “RobertaFlack” hits – you can safely say to yourself “This shit SLAPS.”

That’s when you’re ready for ‘Cosmogramma’. When you are comfortable in the skin that ‘Los Angeles’ hardens around you, then it’s okay to press play and enjoy. Gimme Dat. And I received all of it. ‘Cosmogramma’ was a main stay in my arsenal. I had adapted my existence to welcome this unorthodox way of delivering deliciousness to my ear canals.

Before I dive deeper, I feel the need to be transparent and say if you’re looking for a track-by-track evaluation, I ain’t your guy. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to correctly identify specific tracks on any FlyLo album, because it’s too hard for me to step out of the zone while the record is revolving. I probably even recommend to never listen to a track out of context of the album. Just go ahead and take an hour out of your day, block it off in your calendar, and take a ride.

Okay.

Now fast forward with me for a scene,  if you don’t mind. It’s 2011, and we, me PLUS 6 others, are driving a minivan overnight to Ashville, NC. We were going for a 3 day walkabout, visiting different music venues that were showcasing different artists, all with the overarching theme of banging on the Moog (Yes, MOOGFest 2011). After the 16 hour journey, and a decision to “dust off the sleep deprivation and drink through it instead,” the seven of us blitzed our way through the day and night. Until we got to (our) main event.

We were sitting in the bleachers of the UNC-Ashville Arts theater taking in the artistic stylings of Moby (he wasn’t the main event) counting down the minutes on our watches until Flying Lotus was set to go on. Moby could only satiate our appetites so much, so we found the next venue – and a few drinks later – There he was.

It was energy I had never experienced before. It easily could have been the alcohol numbing my surroundings, but I felt if I was in a bubble and I was vacuumed off from the rest of the crowd. My senses were on overload. Usually when you are at a show, you are anticipating each song, or waiting for those few that you know you are gonna POP for. With FlyLo, I don’t get that. I want the experience from start to finish without even stopping to think about what “track” he might play next. I just enjoy being set in a trace and letting FlyLo take me on whatever trip he has planned for that show. And this was only just year 1 of my Flying lotus experience, but having the year top off with that show made me know I was in for the long haul.

Tim will say ‘Cosmogramma’ was peak FlyLo and he hasn’t done better since. I’d say FlyLo reached A peak with ‘Cosmogramma’ but hasn’t descended since. Just kinda stayed up there, peak-hoppin’, enjoying the scenery.

My wife calls it “noise”. And, sure, but you can say that about any music you disagree with. If the sounds aren’t soothing, it’s noise. With FlyLo, calling it noise, though is an easy way out. Because without any interest in the artist, or WANTING to understand what’s going on, you can call it noise and move on. But ‘Cosmogramma’, specifically, isn’t just unheralded noise. It’s strategically placed nodes meant to instigate foot tapping and head nodding, hip swaying. You listen to those opening, rambunctious sounds on the album and for me, I can feel my body, NOW, start to fall into rhythm, because it KNOWS what’s coming. When I said earlier that I ‘Los Angeles’ had a nice warmup before we got into the race, that was because my body was ice cold. When I play ‘Cosmogramma’ today, my body is already at room temperature waiting for the gun to go off. It only needs those opening 11secs before the race can begin.

Here’s a weird way to describe this album. It’s like watching The Shawshank Redemption on AMC, or TNT, or A&E (those are cable channels for my cord-cutting fans). Anytime I used to channel surf and land on that movie, regardless of where the movie was, I could sit and watch the rest – knowing exactly what I had missed, and knowing exactly where the movie was headed. And I would enjoy it, every time. I can do the same with this album. If a track ever randomly comes up, or a Spotify algorithm sends me something it thinks I like, I can listen to the song, know exactly where I am in the album, and know exactly where we should be headed.

Since MOOGfest ’11, I’ve seen FlyLo pretty much anytime he came around. And my emotional and neurological connections to the music haven’t changed. My dopamine levels are always at all time highs and I get to leave the outside world for a bit. And hopefully, I know have the ability to introduce Flying Lotus to a new audience, as Ju did 10 years ago to me.

I think back to NotDrugs a lot. This little exercise we decided to do streamlined a lot of memories about all of the content we produced and the ambitions we had. It was meant to live the life it lived, but I always wondered if we were able to keep it on life support for the few humps after 2010, what it could have been like. Would we have been able to impact the culture outside of the college bubble like we always wanted? How would our perspectives have changed on what we wanted it to be, and would new perspectives have been added to keep our finger on the pulse?

It’s hard to speak for Chris, or any of the other cohorts, but to me, it seems like NotDrugs was never just NotDrugs. It could have always been anything we wanted it to be. We made it what it was, just as a new group of folks have come together, sifting through the ashes, and coming out with some shit that they want to do.

I guess MSSC is NotDrugs.

[the-jade-goblin]

Commander Shepard Question Meme

Since this is a long post, most of it is under the cut. 

I’m tagging @vorchagirl, @kadarakings, @gharrus, @masseffectish and @femsheparding 

 1.       Introduce your Shepard. How do they look? What do they think about themselves? What kind of person is your Shepard, what are their ambitions and goals? Are they Renegade or Paragon?

 My Shepard is Danica Shepard. She has shoulder-length bright orange hair and dark green eyes. She wears black lipstick and black eyeshadow, and has a scar from her left temple down her face to her right cheek.

 Dani thinks of herself mostly, as a protector.  She’s always determined to take care of her crew and look after her friends. Dani has never lost a single soldier under her command until Virmire, and since then she’s felt like a failure, vowing to get better and stronger so she wouldn’t lose anyone again.

 Dani has never been very ambitious. She’s never cared about getting medals or promotions or whatever. Her only goals are to get stronger and do her job as well as she can. In the beginning, she’s the picture of a perfect Paragon, when she is rebuilt by Cerberus a lot of her care cup becomes empty and she has a shorter temper; she’s more of a Paragade. And in 3 she literally has zero fucks to give anymore to the people who get in her way, but she’s still a Paragon to those in need and will try to make peace where she can.

 2.       Tell us about your Shepard’s family background - parents, siblings? How was their relationship with them? Are any of them alive? Are they still in contact with them? Were they a Spacer, a Colonist or Earthborn?

 Dani was Earthborn, which has made her tough and unlikely to show weakness. She never knew her family, but after ME3 a woman claiming to be her mother gets in contact with her, and there she meets a half-sister and step-father she never knew she had. At first she had trouble getting along with her mother, the woman who had abandoned her, but over time Dani forgave her and she gets along very well with her family members, especially her little sister Ellie.

 3.       What is your Shepard’s psychological profile? War Hero? Sole Survivor? Ruthless? How do they feel about this past?

 Dani is a War Hero, but she feels burdened from that past. She is so compelled to save people that she earned her reputation, and whenever she loses a team mate in battle it’s a significant blow to the role she feels she’s supposed to play.

4.       Is there an event from your Shepard’s past (before they joined the Alliance) that they regret? What is it?

 Dani’s entire childhood could classify as that I suppose, but specifically there is one memory that Dani has never looked on with anything but deep guilt and regret. Dani joined a merc band when she was young, around 12, as a drug mule, and when she was older the leader of the gang had her dance at his nightclub when she wasn’t running smuggling missions for him. Dani met another young girl down on her luck that had joined the band as a dancer at that nightclub, but Dani discovered the young girl was being horribly abused by the gang leader, one night she saw her getting dragged into his room kicking and screaming. She walked away, afraid, and never spoke of it. The girl was dead the next day, and Dani forever regrets not trying to save her.

 5.       Is there an event from your Shepard’s past (before they joined the Alliance) that they look fondly on? What is it?

 The moment in Dani’s life that triggered her desire to help people has always been a fond memory for her. It was no big deal really; a little boy was getting bullied by these bigger kids and they were throwing around this stuffed bear the kid was trying to get back and taunting him for sleeping with a toy at his age. Dani sucker-punched the biggest boy and told him to pick on someone his own size, and of course he went home crying. The little kid looked so happy when Dani gave him his bear back, he hugged her and started crying as he thanked her. And Dani decided that she wanted to keep helping people and see those smiles on other’s faces.

 6.       How is your Shepard with weapons and technology? Can they handle the new challenges or are they dependent on help? Do they fight primarily with guns or do they have biotics? Tech skills?

 Dani has always prided herself on being top in her field of literally any field she attempts. Every challenge is a new obstacle for her to jump, every new weapon and piece of tech is hers to conquer to be that much better than before. Dani’s a lone wolf and has always been that way, but she can work surprisingly well with a group in combat too (especially if it’s Garrus watching her six). She’s a soldier and only ever used heavy guns and pistols until Cerberus gave her biotic implants. She never developed her biotics until the end of ME2 with the help of Jack, Samara and Miranda, and uses them fully with her weapons in ME3. She’s hopeless at tech skills though, that’s all up to Tali when it needs to be done.

 7.       What is their usual setup? What armor and weapons do they usually carry into a fight?

 Dani favours the M-76 Revenant as her usual gun, the M-98 Widow for her sniper, and the M-9 Tempest for her backup gun. Dani wears purple and blue N7 armour manufactured from Hahne-Kedar.

 8.       Does your Shepard have any tattoos or piercings? If so, what are they and why did they get them?

 Growing up Dani had a lip and nose piercing, but she took them out when joined the Alliance. On a trip Omega she and Joker get a Normandy tattoo, Dani on her hip, Joker on his chest. During the Reaper war, she puts back on her nose piercing, gets an N7 tattoo on her back to match James’, and she and Kaidan get the Alliance symbol tattooed on their shoulders.

 9.       Time for Favorites: Song? Color? Food? Ice Cream? Scent? Movie? Book? Is there a specific drink they like to have? Is there a type of comfort food they like?

 Song? Hold Me Down by Halsey. It’s an old Earth song but Dani loves Halsey’s voice and the melody of the song, it’s a very calming song for her and she always plays it when she’s upset.

Colour? Purple. Her N7 armour is purple and most of her civilian clothes are too. But she’s quite partial to Vakarian blue as well.

Food? Mashed potatoes. Simple, tastes good, and easy to make.

Ice-cream? Sweet potato ice-cream. Kasumi introduced it to her when they went on a trip to Japan together and she’s loved it ever since.

Scent? Whatever it is that Garrus smells like all the time. Maybe it’s the metallic smell of the ship. Movie? Zootopia. Dani adores the old vid, she says she feels like Judy is her and Garrus is Nick. They both love watching it together.

Book? Dani has never gotten her hands on a real book, but Kasumi has a beautiful collection and one of her favourites from that collection is The Catcher in the Rye. It’s such an old book but it’s so good.  

Drink? Dani loves to drink hot water and honey, sometimes with a bit of lemon. It was one of the only drinks she could get when she was growing up on the streets of New York.

 10.   How do they feel about being in command of the Normandy? About their SPECTRE status?

 Dani was slightly nervous about her command of the Normandy; she hadn’t been in a position of command since the Skyllian Blitz, she’d always served under Anderson after that so having her own command again was a bit nerve wracking at first. Dani was honoured upon being appointed a Spectre, and as the months rolled by she began to almost take it for granted. She’d roll her eyes and mutter ‘I’m a Spectre I can do what I like’ under her breath when someone was being difficult and wouldn’t help her, but she never abused her power.

 11.   Any skills outside of fighting that your Shepard has: Do they know how to cook? Do they have any hobbies that they like to do? Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

 Shepard has the unique ability to pole dance, from her gang days as a teenager. She can play and win any gambling game you’ll find in a casino. She loves to sketch and to paint, and sing when no one’s around. She collects crystals as well as her model ships, her favourite crystals are the ones collected from Tali’s homeworld, they glow vibrant colours in the dark.

 12.   What are your Shepard’s fears? Are they afraid of anything in particular?

 Dani has a profound fear of spiders. And bees, since she’s allergic, but working in space you don’t run into bees very often.

 13.   Does your Shepard have a home away from the Normandy? If so, where is it and how do they keep it? If not, then what does your Shepard do to make their cabin feel more homely?

 Dani has no home, only the Normandy.  After the war she makes herself a home; or rather two. She and Garrus buy a beautiful cottage by a lake in southern Canada, and a penthouse in Palavan’s capital city.

Before that however, she makes her cabin her own by displaying her model ships everywhere, and putting up many photos of her crew throughout the years, as well decorating her fish tank with exciting fish and plants.

 14.   Squad: Who is your Shepard’s best friend? Do they like to do anything specific together?

 Apart from Garrus, Shepard has always been closest to Liara and Tali. The three of them were part of the original team on the Normandy SR-1 so she holds them very dear to her heart. Liara and Dani on the SR-1 would spend hours talking about the Protheans, she and Tali would go shopping for cheap salvage and create new things out of the pieces, and she and Garrus always love to have shooting competitions in their spare time.

 15.   Squad: Who does your Shepard like the least? Why?

 Dani doesn’t particularly dislike any of her crew; if she disliked them they wouldn’t be part of her crew. Having said that, there are squad members Dani isn’t as close to as others. On the SR-1, though she was fond of Ash, Dani disagreed with her anti-alien views and couldn’t relate to her Alliance family history. On the SR-2 Dani never warmed up to Jacob very much, which is surprising since Miranda’s the more untrustworthy one of the two Cerberus agents. There’s no particular reason, Dani was just much closer to others in her team.

 16.   Squad: Who is your Shepard’s go to squad for missions? Why do they choose that particular squad?

 On the SR-1 it was always about who was best suited for each mission, aboard the SR-2 Dani stuck with the crew she knew and trusted. Garrus and Tali are her go-to team, and Garrus and Liara in ME3. She trusts these three with her life and wouldn’t want any other having her back in battle. For certain missions she’ll bring along other team members if they ask or if she thinks they’re better suited for it.

 17.   Romance: Are they romantically involved with anyone? If yes, what is their relationship like?

 Dani and Kaidan used to be an item; their relationship was on the outside one of those ‘perfect’ ones you see in vids, on the inside Dani was always trying hard to be the woman Kaidan thought she was; perfect, military, uncomplicated. After Horizon Dani couldn’t think of Kaidan like that anymore, and eventually found her happiness in Garrus.

With Garrus, Dani can be herself; a sarcastic and sassy rogue that is sometimes ruthless and breaks the rules if need be. She’s more emotional with Garrus and she smiles a lot more. She and Garrus have a strong relationship, best friends as well as lovers who would do anything for each other.

 18.   Romance: If Shepard and their partner could spend a romantic moment together, what would it be like?

 Shooting competition on the Presidium. One of Dani’s favourite ways to spend time with Garrus. Dani also loves watching old Earth vids with Garrus on the Normandy. After they’re married, Garrus loves to paint the Vakarian markings on Dani’s face, and Dani loves to return the gesture. The two also love cooking together, Dani loves to try out new turian foods to cook for her turian, and Garrus likes to make cupcakes for Dani when she’s feeling upset.

 19.   What is your Shepard’s favorite place to go in the galaxy? Why?

 Dani loves many places in the galaxy. She loves visiting Tuchunka to see Wrex, and spending time with Liara on Illium. Dani loves going to Palaven and partying on Omega. She adores the Citadel the most though, it’s one of the only places in the galaxy that she feels at home, it’s a familiar save haven to go to for her.  

 20.   What is your Shepard’s least favorite place to go in the galaxy? Why?

 Ugh, Noveria. Dani can’t stand the cold and that planet is frozen to the core. She also hates Haestrom and Earth, believe it or not, she feels more at home in space.

 21.   What is your Shepard’s relationship to the Council? To Udina? To Anderson? Do they deal with authority well or do they struggle against them?

 Dani at first respects the Council, but quickly gets fed up with their bullshit. She stays on their good side and does as she’s told by them, but after they’re done talking she usually just rolls her eyes and ignores their orders. Or she just hangs up on them.

She can’t stand Udina. At all. That goes for most politicians, but Udina is just insufferable.

Anderson is like a father to Dani; when she joined the Alliance he became her mentor and she went to him with almost everything as she grew up.

Dani can play by the rules of authority, she respects those in power but she’s never afraid to speak up when she disagrees with their policies.

 22.   What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

 She admires honesty, integrity, kindness and determination. Alliance types, but not those that follow orders blindly. She picks her crew with care, as every member of her team exhibits at least one of these traits.

Dani wishes she had the talent that Garrus does with a sniper (but she’ll NEVER admit that to the turian himself)  

 23.   What is your Shepard’s biggest pet peeve?

 People reading over her shoulder. And people judging her alien crew on that fact that they’re non-human alone.

 24.   How does your Shepard deal with their enemies? Do they resort to violence or do they try to be diplomatic?

 Dani always tries to resolve conflict peacefully. If an enemy can be talked down she will do it, but if they can’t be reasoned with than her priority is taking them down quickly. If an enemy threatens any of her teammates, without question she will shoot them down before they can finish their sentence. No one threatens her friends.  

 25.   How does your Shepard deal with death? Not just the deaths of civilians, but of friends (such as Mordin or Thane).

 Dani is used to death; she saw a lot of it in her childhood and she learned to not be affected by it. People die, and that’s just how it is. When she gets her own command however, her attitude changes. When she loses a teammate, she considers it a personal failure. A loss, but nothing to cry personally over, just another mistake. Loss of civilians is tragic, but it doesn’t keep her up at night, it’s just another failure of her position. Through her command of the Normandy, her outlook changes, and each death of innocents wrenches at her empathy, but she vows to get better to save more lives.

 Death of her friends troubles her deeply. Living her whole life alone, fending for herself, she learnt young that the weak die and the strong survive, depend on only yourself, and trust no one. But after taking command of the Normandy, she makes life-long friends, she lets people in and finds a family, people she loves and who love her. Their deaths affect her greatly. She views them as a personal failure to protect those she cares about, and their loss puts a hole in her heart.

 26.   What was your Shepard’s first reaction to seeing a Reaper?

 Dani was struck cold, not only by the sight of a Reaper, but of its voice. When she first heard Sovereign speak she’d never felt so afraid in her life. Dani’s not frightened by many things, but the cold, calculating Reapers chill her to the bone.

 27.   What does your Shepard think about Cerberus? What do they think about the mercenaries that they run into on a regular basis? Is there a specific one they dislike the most? Why?

 In a way, she understands Cerberus’ goal, but she would never agree with the means. As for the mercenaries well, she doesn’t have any opinion other than they make good target practise. The Blue Suns are a particular annoyance because turians are tough sons of bitches, and the Blood Pack often employ krogan and vorcha mercenaries which is irritating as those guys heal very fast and are a nuisance to take down.

 28.   What ending did your Shepard choose? Destroy, Synthesis or Control? Why did they choose this?

 Destroy.  Synthesis may sound ideal, but Dani could never force the entire galaxy to merge with synthetics without permission. She chose Destroy because she knew the only way to keep the galaxy safe was to destroy the Reapers, if she controlled them she too could one day bring them back, and she wouldn’t risk that fate. She didn’t believe the Catalyst when it said the Geth and the Mass Relays would also be destroyed, because even though they were synthetics, they were all different life forms, and she was correct.

 29.   Is there a song that describes your Shepard? If yes, why did you choose that song? Does your Shepard have a playlist?

 It’s My Life by Bon Jovi. I think it fits Dani pretty well since the beginning of her life she’s been forging her own path and choosing the way she lives her life, no matter what anyone tries to do to control her; Alliance, Council or family.

Dani’s playlist would consist of heavy rock or metal songs, preferably in languages she doesn’t understand, or from other species with her translator turned off, so she can focus on the beat. Heavy songs like that help her get through work and battle – yes, she listens to metal while she fights.  

 30.   Share your favorite piece of art or your favorite screenshot of your Shepard. What about it makes it your favorite?

 Sadly I don’t have either