#i will probably take days off during this coming blitz of content

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[pride-moth]

If you were church, I'd get on my knees [Stolitz Week Day 4 - Wedding]

Ao3 Link

Event Info Link

The paparazzi are everywhere. They sit in the trees, in the windows of neighboring buildings, in the cars on the adjacent streets, some have even made their way onto the premises. They’ve been taking pictures of everything all morning. Of the seating area, the flower arrangements, the early guests, even the waiters. They’re prepared to fill the tabloids with the most scandalous wedding in hell. A Prince and an imp. The highest and the lowest. It’s gossip pages simply filling themselves.

They’re prepared for everything. Except for the ceremony not happening in the elaborately-staged venue. They will sit there for hours until dawn comes and there’s still nobody there, except the guests and waiters who have been roaming the place since the morning. “We’ve been duped,” someone will say eventually but nobody will have any idea what to do next.

Sometime in the afternoon, the real wedding congregation is happening in the I.M.P headquarters, with only a handful of people and a private wedding photographer. Everything is decorated in the crispiest shade of white they could find. It’s smaller and simpler than the fake venue they’ve coordinated, but it’s still stunning and gorgeous and perfect, and Stolas is slowly losing his mind in his little pre-room where Millie and Octavia are doing their best to keep him together. He picks at his white suit, wrings his hands and runs to the mirror every single minute to check himself.

“You need to calm down,” Via says, slightly exasperated considering Stolas hasn’t exactly been calm in hours, “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“What if it isn’t? What if the paparazzi come here? What if they find out? What if Blitz decides he doesn’t want to marry me after all?”

“Blitz is…” Millie says while fine-tuning her own hair, “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think he’d ever marry. Didn’t seem like the type. But he’s decided to marry you and that’s something, right. Plus, you’ve gotten married before, you know how it works.”

“That was so long ago, I scarcely remember.”

“The point is there’s no reason to be nervous, everything is going to run smoothly.” Millie gives him a hearty pat on the back.

“Weren’t you nervous when you and Moxxie married?”

“Oh, I wasn’t, Moxxie almost lost it, though. But do you know what I told him?”

“What?”

“That marriage isn’t that big a deal. We love each other before the big party and we’ll love each other after the big party, just with more tax benefits.”

“That’s not very romantic…” Via remarks from across the room.

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” Millie shrugs. “You’re just having a big party to celebrate how much you love each other. And to get tax benefits.”

“Maybe.”

“So, don’t worry about it! Also, there’s no paparazzi, they’re still swarming the fake venue, Moxxie has CCTV on them.”

“Thank you, for organizing this whole thing, I just… Didn’t want to do this with the press present. It’s… I don’t know, it feels less special when everyone gets to watch, you know?”

“No problem, and now get out there and marry my boss!”

Stolas takes a deep breath and his daughter by his hand and walks out of the room.

He walks in with Blitz already waiting in bated breath, wearing a matching white suit that makes him look just obscenely handsome and when their eyes finally meet, it’s as though all worries fall off him in an instant. It’s going to be fine, Stolas thinks, maybe all of it is going to be fine. Forever.

“You look great,” he says shyly and takes both of Blitz’ hands.

“You are absolutely smoking hot,” Blitz responds. Stolas chuckles.

Next to them, Loona, their impromptu officiator, clears her throat to get their attention. “So, uhm, again, can someone explain to me why we’re doing this all proper and pseudo-Christian??”

“Because I like to spite the establishment which I’m marrying into. Also, Christian weddings have a very good aesthetic, we’ve been over this, now ask us for our vows, Loonie,” Blitz replies sharply.

“Okay, sure, uhm, vows please?”

Stolas breathes in deeply. “Blitz, when you came into my life, I never could have imagined standing here with you now. You were loud, abrasive, vulgar and… Well, you still are all of these things, but now I love you for it. Now I want to listen to talk about nothing and rant about your least favorite fruit all day. I want to hear your voice from morning to evening and I won’t tire of it. When I met you… I thought you would be nothing but a tiny speck on my night sky. Seen once, but quickly forgotten. But now I know you’re the brightest star of them all, always leading my way. I love you and I wish to always find my way to you.”

There is some sniffling in the room, though someone is probably also throwing up.

“Wow, okay. Dad, would you like to go next?” Loona says, then, her voice shaking just the tiniest bit.

Blitz looks around and takes a deep breath. “I’ve never been lucky with relationships before, they were… Yeah, they were all pretty terrible. And I didn’t even plan on having one with you for a long time, frankly. But… You know, sometimes you don’t really have a choice. You don’t want to fall in love with the weird bird prince. You just want to get his book and you have sex with him to do, but… It becomes more than that and that’s why we’re here now. Because I love you, even though it took me a long time to accept that. And I can’t wait to be married to you and rail you in the Hellton Hotel honeymoon suite.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment. A silent, disturbed “What?” comes from Octavia.

“What?! Do you think I’m not gonna fuck my husband harder than ever before in our wedding night? Fucking prudes.”

Loona clears her throat again. “So, uhm, right. Stolas, do you wish to take Blitz over here as your husband?”

“Yes, of course I do!”

“Great. Dad. Blitz. whatever. Do you wish to take Stolas here as your husband?”

“Hell yeah, let’s go!”

“Good, then blah blah something something by the power of whatever is going on here, I pronounce you two married. But please wait until after the party with whatever you two want to do to each other…”

“And…?” Blitz says.

“Oh, right, yeah. You may now kiss. As if you need my permission for that. ...Wait, we didn’t even do the thing with the rings yet!”

But they’re already kissing. And so they share this, their first kiss as husbands, it feels exactly the same as always in the best way possible. They’ve kissed before, hundreds upon thousands of times, and this time is no different, it’s an intuitive motion, a well-practiced one, carried out with pure trust and comfort.

And yet, it absolutely is different because that kiss now carries a promise. A promise for many, many years of more kisses, years of just them, together.

The party goes into the dead of night, people dancing and drinking all in celebration of their love, it’s an almost surreal concept. Octavia gets drunk for the first time and that’s a whole piece of work, but Loona is there for her, them being sisters now and all.

But in the Hellton Hotel honeymoon suite they’ve booked for the night, nothing much actually happens because they’re drunk and tired and exhausted, so all they do is cuddle up against each other in the gratuitous pink bed and fall asleep soundly, secure in the knowledge that there’s more than enough time for everything else during the rest of their lives.

The next day, the tabloids will be filled with only one picture, the one their own wedding photographer made, the one they actually want the world to see on their own terms. It shows them, in their matching white suits, Stolas with one hand on Blitz’ hips and a content smile on his face while Blitz has his tongue out and gives the camera the middle finger.

[rose-blooms-red]

Significant Others/troopers under their command react to Edee's latest volley of obnoxious gifts :D

Did I start this 3 months ago? Yes. Did I also write over 2k of it Today? Also yes. Productivity is a Relative Term. 

[read on ao3]

Fox twitches as he reads the clearly handmade voucher. Says, pleasant as anything, “I’m going to fucking murder him.”

Ponds hums, looking over Fox’s shoulder, “It’s sweet. Probably.”

Fox makes a noise in the back of his throat that isn’t entirely describable by any known language. 

Does he still have that clock he found during that one shopping trip? The one with that awful fucking peach, mustard, and grey-blue combination that spat out an eeopie’s mating call every half hour? He’d been planning on saving it he remembers but—

“Telling you to take a break like that,” Ponds continues, like he can’t hear the way Fox’s higher reasoning is currently dying a slow painful death, “very considerate.”

Fox grits his teeth. Needs must, and Fox needs to crush the little fucker’s spirit thoroughly under heel. He’ll have to take it out of storage tomorrow.

“No.”

Ponds giggles, “I’m sure it’ll be entertaining at least.”

“Hondo,” Fox reiterates, digging his elbow back into Ponds’ stomach. 

Ponds drapes himself over Fox’s back, knocks the side of his head against Fox’s, “As I said,” he simpers, “entertaining.”

Fox makes a disgusted sound, sneers down at the offending…. Gift.

‘All expense-paid cruise on the Hondo Ohkana ‘Sights of The Galaxy’ tour!!!!!!’ It proclaims in neon colours and excessive exclamation marks, ‘Very Romantic and Exciting!’

“When’s it say it’s good for?” Ponds asks, like he’s actually contemplating it.

“No.”

Ponds snatches the voucher out of his hands anyway, “Oh good! We aren’t busy that ten-day.”

Fox’s hand twitches, “I am not getting on a fucking ship with fucking Hondo Ohkana, Ponds.”

“Mhm, ‘course not Fox.” Ponds responds absentmindedly, pats his arm lightly in the way that means they are definitely getting on the fucking ship with fucking Hondo Ohkana, “We’ve got a ten-day to pack and get everything in order, that should be enough.” He nods to himself, breezes out of the room with a vague sense of purpose as he flits around the house, presumably for things to take on a ‘very romantic and exciting’ trip.

Fox is going to murder somebody, preferably Hondo, or Neyo. 

He hears the sound of Ponds grabbing the DC-15A’s and he grimaces, ugh, time to find the fucking holdout blasters, those things haven’t been serviced in at least a ten-day, and he needs to check on the blaster packs for the DC-17’s. He can’t remember if he restocked the things after the last time he used them. 

If they’re going on the fucking trip, they’re gonna be well fucking stocked.

(Fox manages not to murder Hondo, but it’s a very near fucking thing.

He does come back from the trip in a much better mood though, other than the twitch he’s developed from listening to Hondo all day. Ponds is annoyingly amused and smug about it. Fox ignores it, like he does every other fucking annoyance in his life. 

He shuts down the talk of another trip like it happening any time in this fucking century before Ponds even opens his mouth to respond. Once was fucking enough thank you.)

__________

Colt closes his eyes, casts a net about his mind for a sliver of patience and finds his supply has dwindled something awful.

When he opens his eyes again both nuisance and potted plant are still there. Gree smiles winningly and Colt smells danger. 

Or maybe he just smells the plant, because that is the thing overwhelming everything else right now. He glares down at it, it looks harmless, mostly, in it’s large pot but already Colt can hear the sounds of flies swarming around.

“That is not a houseplant,” Colt says, relatively tamely in his opinion, given that the overwhelming smell it emits is decay, “that is the type of plant one shoots and hopes doesn't survive the encounter.”

“It’s a very rare and endangered plant,” Gree lies, grin earnest and eyes bright with humour.

“It’s a pile of banthashit dressed up in vegitive form.”

“It’s an Amorphophallus titanum,” Gree corrects, “and it’s very rare, it’s one of the largest unbranched inflorescence in the galaxy that isn’t also carnivorous in any shape or form.”

Colt gives the plant a dubious look, “I’ll believe that when it doesn’t smell like it just ate and digested something.”

Gree shrugs, “It’s possible it’s a type of carrion flower…. but in the name of protecting it from extinction there’s no one I’d trust more than you.”

Colt twitches, he has no clue what a carrion flower is or how that accounts for the way it smells like Colt has a pile of corpses rotting away on his front step, but he does not like it at all.

The worst part is that he can’t actually tell whether this is Gree being serious or him pulling a shithead move. Because this is exactly the type of thing Gree would genuinely do and also the type of thing Gree would do just to fuck with him.

Behind him someone gags and Colt twitches.

“Fine,” he grits out, and Gree’s smile tries for sunshine and comes up partly cloudy and fully shiteating.

“Wonderful, thanks Colt.”

“Please leave.” 

Gree laughs as he leaves and Colt closes the door with a sigh.

“It smells like someone died over there,” Blitz calls out and Colt groans.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Havoc sniggers, “It really does sir, we might have to keep the Little’s away for a few days, wouldn’t want one of ‘em puking.”

Colt winces, that image does enough to convince him of the necessity, the only thing that could be worse right now is over a dozen Little’s sicking up from the smell. “Might be for the best.”

Blitz hums, looking at the now closed door in interest, “How likely is it that he was pulling your leg?”

Colt slumps into his chair, “50/50” he admits and Blitz raises his eyebrows.

“That is almost more concerning. What the kriff did they put in your batch.”

“Mistakes,” Colt grumbles back. This is why he’s the oldest, he’s the only one in the entire batch who managed to wrangle any sense out of his tube and keep it all the way through.

Havoc laughs and Blitz snorts, then looks like he immediately regrets it, “Ugh, Colt your batch is full of sadists I’m not gonna get the smell out of my nose for weeks.”

“It’s probably seeped into the clothes at this point,” Havoc agrees and Colt groans.

(When Shaak comes home she takes one look at the plant and can’t seem to decide whether to grimace or smile.

“Apparently,” he drawls, “it’s a very endangered plant that’s been entrusted to my care.”

A burst of laughter ripples out into the room and Shaak smiles, hand covering her lips as her shoulders shake minutely, Colt forgets about the death plant for a second as he looks up at her, heart stopping for a moment in the split second it takes her to swallow her laughter back down and he wants nothing more than to pull that sound out from her again.

It takes him a minute to realize that at some point he’d started smiling. He can’t seem to stop it, but there are worse things to find himself unable to stop doing.

“It’s commonly known as a type of carrion flower,” she tells him finally, laughter lacing her tone, “otherwise known as a corpse flower for the smells they produce. It is not endangered, though there are those who agree that it might not be too much of a loss if it was.”

Colt groans. Shaak giggles and Colt finds himself forgetting for a second to plot his revenge.

Maybe Gree will get off a bit lighter this time, if only because Colt got to hear that bright laughter. 

He hums, “Plant it far, far, far away from the house?” Shaak smiles, presses a kiss to his forehead.

“That, my dear Colt, sounds like a brilliant plan.”)

__________

Gree gives the box a look of suspicious distrust that makes Barriss giggle and Decker snicker. 

It’s a big box, about the size of his torso and Gree has seen that bland, even smile too many times before to trust the contents of the box.

“Fox,” he warns and Fox’s grin goes sickeningly sweet.

“Gree, Baby Brother Dearest,” he drawls and Gree can hear the capital letters what the fuck, “I put my heart and soul into this you know, I’m hurt, really I am.”

That, Gree thinks sourly, is the worst load of banthashit he’s ever heard, and he’s had to listen to ‘scientific lectures’ given by people who read maybe one Edupad and then promptly forgot all of the information in the Edupad and decided whatever half-remembered thing left was Fact and Truth and refused to listen to Reason…. or sources and cited works.

Gree was very annoyed about that one, he’d put Effort into that paper thank you very much and he’d taken the class to learn things, not whatever that had been.

Fox wiggles the box in his hands around, expression pleasant and smile sharp.

Gree sighs. At least, he assures himself as he takes the box, it won’t be as bad as whatever happened after Fox and Ponds had come back from Neyo’s…… Gift.

Maybe.

The box is squishy. Boxes are not supposed to be squishy.

Gree has a Bad Feeling about this. He raises an eyebrow, Fox doesn’t even twitch.

Behind him Barriss is watching the exchange with wide, mirth filled eyes and a hand covering her mouth. Decker has long since lost the battle of keeping his snickering quiet and the rest of Gree’s so called loyal troopers of Green company watch with rapt attention.

He sighs again, loud and long-suffering, Fox’s smile never shrinks a shade less than serial killer pleased.

Gree unwraps the wrapping flimsi with ease, and then stares with distant horror at the plasti-cling underneath it. Not a box, no, plasti-cling.

It’s layered.

Gree twitches and reaches for one of his vibroblades.

“It’s very delicate,” Fox informs him, just as he gets the vibroblade out of it’s holder.

“Oh?” Gree asks, really quite pleasantly given the plasti-cling is so layered he can’t see a damn thing through it.

“Extremely,” Fox confirms, deadpan. Behind him Barriss giggles uncontrollably and Decker is flushed with laughter and gasping for air and the others aren’t much better. 

“Do they always do this?” one of them whispers incredibly poorly, Gree twitches, Fox eyes him with that malicious amusement that cements his place as youngest forever in Gree’s head.

“Always,” Barriss whispers back, giggling still and Gree’s heart warms for a second before his impending humiliation via gift settles in again.

“I knew the Commander wasn’t only, you know, learny, but I always thought he was sane.”

“Oh he’s sane,” Cooker reassures, “far as we can tell their entire batch is just, Like That.”

“But this is Torrent lev—” Fox’s face gives an unpleasant twitch that Gree sympathizes with.

Torrent, ugh.

“Shhhh,” the rest of Green hisses and Barriss hides her head in her hands as she laughs.

“We don’t compare them to Torrent, makes them touchy,” Draa mutters, as if he isn't half the reason Gree goes into interactions with Torrent prepared to have engineering go on another crazed building spree. He has a hunch that they feed on each other, the engineers, and it's their own special kind of crazy that Gree is half fascinated by and half resigned to.

“My point stands.” 

Gree grits his teeth, narrows his eyes at Green Company as a whole to no avail, turns a raised eyebrow to Barriss in a last attempt at gaining control of a situation he’d lost all hold over the moment Fox had walked up to him with a ‘gift from the bottom of my heart, Gree’.

His cold dead heart maybe. Gree is plotting his revenge already.

He puts the blade back with mechanical motions, feels around for the beginning of the despised plasti-cling, seriously who made it Gree has complaints for them, and begins the arduous task of unwrapping it all.

Who let Fox have this much plasti-cling.

(Over 10 hours of nonstop focus later the last of the plasti-cling has finally been ripped away and Gree stares at the new puzzle cube. Ugly and about the size of his palm. Much, much smaller than the wrapping he’d been given, nearly the size of his torso.

Gree makes a strangled sound that he will forever deny, Draa. 

The plasti-cling sits around him tauntingly, viciously victorious in all it’s piled glory.

It takes 3 days for Green Company to stop laughing about it. It does not take 3 days for them to stop sharing the holopics and vids they took, that takes much longer.

Barriss is Gree’s favourite now, everyone else is awful and everything they say is lies, and Fox has been demoted to all the way to being the baby.)

__________

Neyo tilts his head, grin bordering manic, “That, is the ugliest piece of garbage I’ve ever seen.”

Colt smiles, “It’s high class art.”

“It looks like someone took cans of paint and dumped them on the nearest patch of dirt they found.” 

“The texture adds value.”

“It’s chunks of dirt and grass.” Neyo hisses in delighted outrage. 

Colt waves a hand, voice disinterested and all ‘above all this nonsense’ like, “Very classy. Made with only the best of intentions.”

Neyo giggles, “It looks like actual manure, I hate it.”

“I got it just for you,” Colt simpers, like the little shit no one ever believes he is, “I saw it and just knew you’d connect to it.”

Neyo cackles, “This is awful, you’re awful, I’m hanging it on the wall and telling everyone you painted it.”

Colt raises an eyebrow, “No one will believe you.”

He’s right, it’s awful. Neyo pouts, “I could convince them.”

No he can’t, but that’s besides the point.

Colt hums, “mhm, I’m sure you could kih’vod.”

Neyo flicks at Colt’s wrist and wilts, “This is harassment.”

“Whatever you say Ney’ika.”

“You’re a bully.”

“Mhm.”

“I can’t believe anyone thinks you’re responsible.”

“That is because I am.” Colt says, putting Neyo in a headlock, they both ignore the way Neyo tenses up for a fraction of a second before he relaxes, sulks, digging his elbow into Colt’s side.

It’s the first time Colt has given him such a blatantly awful gift. Neyo cackles and something shakes loose in his chest. His throat feels grossly tight and the stupid shitty canvas covered in dirt and paint sits leaning against the wall innocently.

Colt makes the same even face he uses on the Little’s when they’re being hilarious and he can’t afford to tell them or when he’s about to say something completely karking stupid because no matter how much he likes to tell everyone he’s the oldest he totally isn’t. 

Neyo slips out of the headlock, giggles through the knot in his throat and rolls his eyes.

“You’re deluding yourself and everyone around you.” he tells Colt. Colt has only ever been responsible by necessity, and never once in all of Neyo’s memories of him, has he been anything less than an absolute shithead just like the rest of them when there was no necessity.

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m not arguing with you like a first-cycle.”

“Are too.”

“Neyo.”

“You’re the one who gave me the shitty painting.”

“It’s high class art you bastard.”

Neyo preens, “Thank you, still the worst thing I’ve ever seen though. Might hang it up in the front room, just to really bring it all together.”

Colt sighs, aggrieved. Neyo has no sympathy for him, really if you’re gonna play the game you gotta be in it to win it. It’s not Neyo’s fault that the trashy, awful, horrible dirt, grass, paint mixture splattered onto canvas happens to be horrifyingly tasteless. Neyo loves it. It’s gonna make Fox so mad.

(“Neyo,” Vaughn asks, staring at the wall, “why is there a, what even is that, dirt? On canvas?”

Neyo straightens up, grins wide, “Colt painted it. Out of the love in his heart and the limited talents he was decanted with.”

Vaughn raises an eyebrow, “That’s lovely and everything, why is it hanging in our front room.”

“It is horrifically awful and I love it and Fox and Ponds are coming over tomorrow.”

Vaughn laughs.

The next day, Ponds takes one look at it and giggles, “Fox, Fox come here, you’re gonna hate it.”

Fox takes one look at it and walks right back out of the house, Neyo cackles the entire time.)

[james-rowan]

Here’s my (very late, sorry 😓) contribution to the @dualrainbow Pride event. Thank you To_Dragons for helping me edit.

Ships: Montagne/Blitz, Lion/Doc, Valkyrie/Finka and Castle/Maverick

The Pride Festival

The Austin Texas Pride Festival was held on a hot, sunny afternoon, and it smelled of fair food, sunscreen and energy. It was colorful, and bright, mrainbows everywhere, adorning stalls, signs and, of course, people.

To the European operators who had been to Pride events before, it was not only loud, but bold. From the outfits, that ranged from simple rainbow wristbands to full on outrageous outfits (or just a jockstrap), to the signs and stalls and performance stages. Couples were embracing, kissing and making out openly and passionately, without shame or guilt, not only couples but the rare poly groups, finally able to carry on with open affections and taking full advantage. The atmosphere was infectious. It had already claimed Maverick and Castle, who walked very close to each other -despite the heat- hands in each other’s back pockets. They also were very unrestrained with the kissing.

And Montagne thought that he and Blitz could be overly affectionate. But then he was still waiting for his lover to meet them there. He had flown out on his own specifically for this.

Their group included the aforementioned Castle and Maverick, Valkyrie, Finka, himself, Lion and Doc.

They had traveled from Fort Polk, Louisiana, where they, that being the FBI SWAT, SEALs and GIGN, and one tagalong (at her vehement request) Finka, were doing training with the U.S. Army rangers stationed there. After two weeks of a field exercise in muggy swamplands, their Pride group had been excited to go somewhere dry, but unfortunately Houston did not live up to the Texas desert stereotypes; it was almost as humid as Fort Polk. But at least here there was civilization. And Montagne himself was excited to finally see Blitz.

“Schatz!”

Speaking of whom, he was charging at them, looking very much the part of a Pride attendee. He caught his lover in his arms, swinging him around once, despite the soreness from training, then dipped him into a deep kiss. that gained the awe and cheers of not only from some in their own group, but several onlooking strangers as well.

When they finally parted , Lion muttered, “They’re acting like they haven’t seen each other in a year.”

The couple ignored him as Blitz held Monty out in arms length to appraise his outfit. He tutted, “Not to live up to the stereotype, Schatz, but what are you wearing?”

Montagne looked down at himself. He was wearing a lightweight button down with rolled up sleeves, dark trousers and shined shoes, nothing offensive, if a bit formal compared to everyone else, but the reason was important.

Blitz himself was dressed the complete opposite, wearing a loose stringer tanktop that exposed his toned shoulders and even his pecs when he moved just right. Jean cutoff shorts, sneakers with colorful laces, large sunglasses, a backwards ball cap, wristbands: every article of clothing was either rainbow colored, or had an inclusive pride flag adorning it.

“Euh… what’s wrong with it?

“If it were any other day, nothing,” Blitz said. “You look sharp and sexy as ever. But this is Pride, American Pride, ja? Look around.”

Almost everyone was wearing Pride merchandise, had flags draped on their shoulders, or had face paint of various LGBTQ+ symbols, from obvious t more subtle. The bolder were the ones wearing much more and the even bolder much less.

Blitz grabbed his hand, “Come, we’re fixing this.”

“Aren’t we a little old for…”

“Psst, nein. This will be fun, ja? To dress up as we please, get swept up in the atmosphere.”

“We can already dress as we please.”

“I mean colorful, and silly, no fashion rules to hold us back. Come on!”

With that Blitz dragged him off, leaving the rest in their wake.

~

“Well,” Finka chuckled. “Hi to you too, Elias.”

“Those two are disgusting,” Lion snickered. “How long have they been together? A year?”

“Two,” Finka said. “With no signs of slowing down.”

“Their honeymoon phase is going to last forever at this rate,” Valkyrie said.

“That explains why Gilles is going to…” Lion stopped himself, eyes wide.

“What is Gilles going to do?” Valkyrie was now very interested.

“Olivier, you wanted to show me something?” Doc, the amazing man he was, quickly interjected.

Had it been a few months ago, Lion would have been confused, but now Doc had bailed him out enough times during conversations that he immediately went, “Ah right, this way.”

“We’ll go with you,” Valkyrie smirked.

“Non, non, it's private,” Lion said.

“The good Catholic boy he is, he cannot share,” he said, steering Lion away before he could reveal too much.

Out of earshot, Lion mumbled, “How can you be nice while mocking me at the same time?” Lion was a bit prickly at the Catholic comment. It has always been a point of mockery for people outside the church.

“I could ask you the same. You have quite the talent for it. Far more than I can hope to achieve.”

“Most of the time I don’t mean to.”

“I know.” Doc’s tone softened into a reassuring one, giving his side a squeeze. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have found common ground, mon coeur,” he said. “People also tend not to question when a Catholic needs to do private things, no? With Islam it works quite well.”

Lion took a deep breath, but understood. It was nothing malicious. “Thank you. I didn’t want to be the one to fuck that all up.”

It had taken years to come to a mutual understanding, let alone to find a way to deal with their mutual attraction to one another. It was a rocky, long road, but here they were. Lion hoped one day they would be exactly like Blitz and Montagne, or even just Castle and Maverick.

Lion brushed his forefinger against Doc’s hand, tentatively seeking to hold it. Their relationship was so new, so fragile, like a baby bird or sugar glass, too easy to hurt or shatter. A hundred things, even things gentle or nice, could ruin a relationship, if you looked into it. And considering their history, before they got together… where just one off hand remark would destroy a truce they had established between each other, setting them at each other's throats once again. Lion never wanted to go back to those times. He’d do anything to keep it from degrading back.

Doc immediately took hold of his hand, as if he had been waiting to do so all day, giving a loving squeeze.

Warmth flooded Lion, he felt a giant stupid grin spreading across his face. It was almost too much, as he felt pricks in his eyes, as he squeezed back. He glanced sideways at Doc, finding him gently smiling, mellow as always when he was content. He wanted nothing more than to sweep him up and kiss him fiercely, but maybe then it’d be too much. He’d settle for this for now.

After browsing a couple stalls, he remembered something. What did the relationship advice he found on that one website say? That he should always seek to compliment and let someone know how much their actions mean to him, so he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words.

“You know,” Lion said, barely able to be heard over the crowd. “I’m so glad you’re willing to hold my hand.”

“Willing? I want to,” Doc corrected, bringing it to his lips and kissing his knuckles.

Lion smile only grew wider, and he had to look away as red creeped from his ears to his cheeks now. “J’taime.”

“J’taime.”

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest threatened to burst, helped along by with the anxiety, the pervasive fear that this was about to be ripped from him at any moment.

They grabbed something to eat and sat down on a bench. If American food was considered greasy, their fair food was simply lard on a plate, with maybe some sugar or ketchup for seasoning. They commented on this to each other, when something caught Lion’s eye. There were older women and a couple of men wearing t-shirts, that said “free mom hugs.” (the men’s shirts said ‘dad’) As implied, they hugged everyone who came up to them. Some hugs were light and quick, and some deep and heartfelt, lasting many minutes. Lion’s eyes followed one of them until he came upon a group of them, holding signs, the same message written on them.

“Is that what I think?”

“Hmm?” Doc looked up. “Ah, probably. Hold on.”

To Lion's horror, his fellow frenchman asked a nearby American who they were; the man explaining with a bright smile that they were a charity organization that helped LGBTQ+ youth, and they gave out hugs - of course -, for any who had been rejected by their families for their sexuality.

Small talk ensued, in which Lion was only half-participating in as he ate, and when the man finally left, Doc nudged his side.

“You’ve been glancing at them this whole time. Go on, go talk to them.”

“I don’t need a hug.”

Doc tsked, “That’s a lie.”

“Huh?”

“If anyone needs a hug from a father figure, it is you, no?”

“I…” Lion paused then shook his head. “No, I’m over it, I put it behind me. It happened over a decade ago, after all.”

Doc raised an eyebrow, one of his infuriatingly knowing smiles tugging at his lips.

“They are for this who were disowned for being homosexual, Gustave. I was not...”

“And your father would have accepted you being with another man? Or is it only teens getting their girlfriends pregnant that he takes moral issue with?”

Lion didn’t have an answer for him. Well he did, just not a verbal one. There were so many reasons his father wanted nothing to do with him.

“I’m over it,” he repeated, but this time with less conviction.

“Then it would be of no consequence,” Doc said, squeezing his hand. “Go on.”

It was an awkward walk to approach them. He had to remind himself he was a soldier, he had faced death multiple times, fought against some of the most dangerous people in the world and this- This was just a civilian man at a pride event. Much older than him, sure, with a kind face and beard. But he realized as his step grew increasing hesitant that it wasn’t the human he was afraid of, but his soul, and what it could do to his own with just a few brash words.

What was he even going to say? “Hey I saw your sign, my dad hates me, can I get a hug?” That was ridiculous. Maybe lean into the role this man was offering to play, “Sorry dad, I was a fuck up, I can't change?" Or… "sorry you were not capable of loving me the way I am?" Both sounded completely rude to say to a stranger.

But as he approached, the older man met his eye, and there was no need for questions, nor words. The dad only smiled at him and opened his arms.

Lion found himself in the other man’s embrace before he even realized, hugging him as if his life depended on it. The older man matched his energy, a hand on the back of his head as if Lion really was his own child. Time seemed to stretch on and on; Lion had been anticipating a quick hug, just a little taste of what he got so envious of every time he saw someone have a loving moment with their parent, but no, his body refused to let go and so did this stranger. This stranger who held onto him with a fatherly patience Lion once thought only existed in fantasy.

The lump growing in his throat ached. He tried swallowing it down, but it only made it worse.

He shouldn’t have done this. He thought he was over it, yet it hurt, it hurt so fucking much…!

He wanted to run, he wanted to stay, he wanted…

“It’s alright to cry,” the man whispered. “I got you.”

“My real father disowned me.” Lion wasn’t proud of how strangled his voice sounded, or how he let some tears escape.

“I’m so sorry, son,” the man replied, rubbing his back gently. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Nobody does.”

“I never could give him a reason to love me.”

“Children don’t need to give a reason. They’re supposed to be loved by their parents, no matter what mistakes they made, real or imagined. You deserve to be loved.”

Lion was biting the inside of his cheek, trying to will away the need to sob. This was a happy moment, a validating moment, with kind words, and warmth, why did it hurt so much then? His fingers clutched at the man’s shirt, as he gently rocked them. It didn’t feel infantilizing, it felt relieving, needed, like a hole finally being filled.

“You can cry, you know,” the man whispered again. “Emotions are made to be expressed. You don’t have to be strong, not here, not with me. I know you’re hurting, Don’t worry, I’m here.”

A choked sob escaped, and Lion pressed his face into the man's shoulder. “There you go, let it out, I’m proud of you.”

There was no coming back from that. He broke down, and it was ugly.

Lion sobbed into his arms, all rsesemblance of control disappearing, but the father held him through it all. It lasted way longer than Lion thought possible, but they eventually subsided, and he was still being held as he calmed down. When he felt strong enough to break the embrace, he was met with a gentle, fatherly smile.

“Do you feel better?”

“Oui.. yes, thank you,” he wiped his face with his own shirt. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” the manhe said. “I’m just doing what fathers were meant to do.”

“Merci.”

They talked for a little while after. About what happened with his father, his family, himself. The cynical side of him expected them to reveal their ulterior motive, asking him for charity donations, to attend a church service, or even a cult, but they didn’t offer him any flyers or business cards, just warm words... water and tissues. At least he wasn’t the first grown man to cry like this in their arms. They were genuinely good people.

Doc had been waiting patiently for him on the bench, and stood up to embrace him and kiss his cheek upon his return. “How do you feel?”

“Drained,” he said. Then he added, “Relieved. I guess you were…” he caught himself. “No, you were completely right.”

“I’m glad you went then, mon coeur.”

Lion needed a smoke. Before got to know him, Lion would have assumed the doctor was too high and mighty for a nicotine fix, but then found out he was a man in a high stress job like the rest of them, and didn’t judge. Except on the mandatory substance abuse powerpoints they all had to sit through every few months.

He lit up, drawing the smoke in and letting it mellow him out. Every so often he would think back and a few more tears would leak out.

He wiped his eyes with his thumb. “You know why I was so happy that you took my hand?”

“Non,” Doc said, rubbing his back. “But please tell me.”

“I was at the store with my mother and father,” he said. “I was just following along, and I see my mother offer her hand to hold, you know, this gesture…”

He made it. Doc patiently nodded.

“Well I was nearest to her, I think. I was so happy, I remember feeling loved, all warm, because my mama wanted to hold my hand.”

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Go on, I’m listening.”

Lion took a deep breath. His voice shuddered, “She let go, non.. she threw my hand away from her, in utter disgust. As if I were disgusting. She snapped, ‘I don’t want your hand.’”

Lion ducked his head. “It was a small thing, yes, but it hurt, it hurt so much. Turned out she wanted my father’s hand, not her son’s, not mine.”

It was a few beats later before Doc said, “How old were you?”

“Four, maybe five,” Lion said. “I hate that feeling, those moments where you finally feel happy and loved, and the next second someone shatters it completely. Despair is a good word for it, I think.”

“How often did these types of things happen?”

“Plenty, I was a disgusting child, after all.”

“No,” Doc said. “She was just… cruel.”

Lion huffed, not a wry laugh, just disbelieving. “You’re not going to tell me that she tried her best?”

“Did she?”

“I… I don’t know…”

“Then I think not,” Doc said softly, cupping Lion’s cheek. He leaned into the warmth.

"I still get this horrible… fear when I want to take someone’s hand, or show any affection. So I usually don’t.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, mon cher. And if I ever make you feel the way your mother did, I want you to tell me.”

Lion nodded, looking down, not entirely sure if he would. Doc tilted his head back up. “Hey, I mean it.”

Lion took his hand and almost went for a kiss, but the deep moment was interrupted by Blitz and Monty approaching. Lion quickly turned away so neither of the two could see his red puffy eyes, but he did see Monty was wearing a stringer tanktop, tie dyed rainbow, and adorned with rainbows in body paint and a look of subdued embarrassment any time Elias had his back turned. Blitz was going a bit overboard on this look.

“Have you seen Meghan?” Blitz said, “unless you have a bag?”

Doc pointed them into the right direction, as Lion quickly drank his water.

“Olivier, are you okay?”

“He just needs some alone time with me,” Doc saved him. Again.

The pair offered their sympathies to Lion (much to his annoyance) and wandered off to find the two women.

“Don’t you ever dress me up that garishly,” Lion snickered.

“Please, mon coeur, I have taste,” Doc said, before grabbing his knee and squeezing, voice now whispering in his ear. “Besides, I prefer you out of your clothes.”

He nipped his earlobe before Lion could exasperate out his name, earning a yelp instead.

Any semblance of protocol melted into genuine, unmasked joy just to be in each other’s company, in a welcoming space where they could be open about themselves Gustave himself was intent on kissing his lover better.

~

Finka and Valkyrie had been watching a stage performance when Blitz appeared at Valkyrie’s side, grinning, as usual, and... now covered in glitter?

“Meghan, can we borrow your purse?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to have to carry around Gilles’s shirt all day.”

Valkyrie turned fully to see Montagne, who had trailed in after him, no longer wearing his tasteful, understated ensemble, but had been attacked by rainbows and what looked to be the same shimmer bomb that Blitz must have been caught in.

“No, you’re going to get glitter in it,” Valkyrie frowned.

“Please? I’ll clean it out for you myself.”

“Glitter?” Finka said, turning around. “We have to ride back with your boyfriend, and you wore glitt-”

Finka must have caught sight of Montagne’s giant pecs escaping the too small, flimsy shirt, because she turned bright red and turned back to stare very intently at the performer.

All Valkyrie herself could think was ’damn Montagne is strong and it shows’, but that was it, of course. Her girlfriend however was bi, with a particular weakness for large people with muscles.

“Och, I almost forgot,” Blitz said cheekily. “You have any sunscreen? Gilles wasn’t prepared for this outfit.”

“I don’t think any of us were prepared,” Finka snipped, still keeping Montagne out of her line of sight. She pulled out a sunblock bottle from her cargo pocket and tossed it over.

“You alright there, Lera?” Blitz asked as he caught it.

“I’m fine, it's just hot,” she replied, still avoiding eye contact, “The weather, I mean.”

Blitz grinned, “He is hot, isn’t he?”

“Mon cher…” Montagne groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just…”

Meghan clapped her hands, “Okay, go away, go be gay somewhere else. We have enough that of our own over here.”

Blitz ignored her, looking at Finka with a grin, “What do you think of us getting temporary hair color? I was thinking of dyeing our hair rainbow.”

“Well, you’ve gone this far,” Finka said, pointedly staring at Blitz’s eyes. “Might as well go full golubok.”

“Hah, ja, I like the way you think, I…”

“Here,” Meghan said, grabbing Gilles’s shirt from Blitz’s hands and stuffing it into her purse. “Go dye your hair now. Go on.”

“Alright, all right.” Blitz grinned, holding up his hands and going. Montagne sighed deeply, a twitch working its way through his cheek before following. Odd, but not her problem. She had someone much more important to worry about.

“You’re into muscles, huh?”

“You know I am,” Finka said sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Valkyrie laughed, “It’s fine, he got great boobs.” That caused Finka to snort. “You know, for a man.”

Finka laughed longer than she expected, but it was always nice when her girlfriend had one of her genuine laughs.

“It's always nice to see real muscles,” Finka said. “Real ones, from being big and strong, and healthy.”

“Oh, you mean some like mine?” She flexed, tattooed arms positively sexy as the bulged.

Finka’s eyes got a hungry glunt to them, she put her hands on Valkyrie’s arms, feeling the solidness beneath her fingers, “Yes, just like that.”

Finka kissed her girlfriend long and deep, and Valkyrie relished being able to do so in the open, without the anxiety of having some bigot laying eyes on them and causing a scene. It was annoying enough to deal with the old people (and the occasional man similarly aged man) she had never met before tsk at her for daring to have tattoos and being too buff, saying she was too pretty to mark herself up like that and ask how she was ever going to find a man looking like that. She had already broke the glass ceiling for women in something as prestigious and hardcore as the Navy fucking SEALs, but there were still so many in American society that were convinced that women existed to look pleasant to men, regardless of if said women even wanted a pet man or not.

The kiss was broken when Finka’s wristwatch timer went off, and her girlfriend quickly drank from her water bottle. It was such a practiced motion, Valkyrie wasn’t entirely convinced Lera was aware she was doing it, and it made her heart ache. When she was finished, she wrapped her arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Later they were browsing stalls, and Finka gravitated towards one that was selling pride flags and shirts, not only the standard colors for each identity group, but also the ones that represented multiple identities within the same flag. Finka fingered a nonbinary one with a heart in the bisexual colors on its center. Interesting choice.

“I’d love to see you wear one of these, babe.”

Finka smiled, but shook her head, “I don’t know…”

“Come on, I’m not trying to pull a Blitz on you, I’ll wear one with you.”

“And what am I going to do with it afterwards?”

“Keep it? We’re not in Russia, our base is in Greece, basically its own sovereign territory.”

“When you went through SEALs, there were dissenters that tried to prove your were lesbian so they could get you removed from the program, didn’t they?”

Valkyrie shrugged, “Yeah, but they failed.”

“The last thing that the Russian government wants is one of it most elite spetsnaz operatives in an international effort to be homosexual,” Finka explained. “Its not illegal, yet, but my existence could be considered ‘propaganda.’ I might not just be removed from Rainbow, or Spetsnaz, or the Russian military, I could be jailed.

“Ah.”

“You know what Russian prison is like? I might be able to survive the system if I wasn’t sick, but I am diseased. They’d deny me my medication, not let me stay hydrated or fed or exercised and I’ll...”

“Hey, hey,” Meghan said, quickly drawing Lera into a hug. “I’m sorry, it was just a silly idea.”

“I’m…” she took a deep breath then nodded. “Thank you.”

Meghan kissed her forehead, holding her hands. Lera usually had to be stressed, well, more stressed than usual, to go on such a downward spiral so quickly. Being at such a Pride event, probably, if anyone found out. Finka didn’t believe her own Rainbow Spetsnaz brothers to out her, they were too close, but it was still risky.

“The Soviet Union used to accept openly gay people, did you know that?”

Valkyrie shook her head.

“Not a lot of people do, even in Russia. It was the early years, of course, but they gave gays rights they never had before. But then, of course, the Soviets needed more bodies. Bodies for war, and bodies for work, and of course, they believed gays were the reason that their population wasn’t pumping out babies at a fast enough rate.”

“Oh.”

“It all comes down to child production, doesn’t it? You know this.”

“Unfortunately I do,” Valkyrie said. “Not even just governments but families too. When my grandma found out I was lesbian, she sobbed, crying about how she won’t have any grandbabies from my father’s line. Then she blamed my father for raising me too military, while blaming my mother for letting me compete in high level sports.” She adopted a shrill, tottering grandma voice, ‘Sports always turns girls into dykes. I wanted greatgrandbabies from every child! But you made her want to turn into a boy!”

“Blin.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“My own parents alway knew I would like girls,” she said. “Enough to be surprised and confused when I brought home boyfriends that I was genuinely happy with. They cited my, uh, how you call it, boyishness? Well, I never felt comfortable in the woman’s role and they, knowing what my siblings and I had…, they didn’t really feel a need to pressure us to do anything but stay as healthy and active as possible.”

Meghan slowly began to realize this was turning into much more than a simple sharing of stories, and squeezed her hands in support.

“I never liked being…. I don’t know how to put this. I didn’t like the gendered language used for me. And I never felt when people were talking about women, they were talking about to me as well. Just as I thought the rules and expectations boys are taught growing up applied to me as well. You know, don’t cry, be tough, treat women with respect, fight those who try to push you around. Then I learned of this new concept a couple years ago, someone could be neither. I laughed at it at first but...”

“Lera…” Valkyrie said softly, with a loving smile. “Do you want me to use they/them for you?”

Her… their eyes lit up. “Would you? I mean, I’m not sure just yet, but I would like to try them out. “Non pun intended?”

“Hmm? Oh yes,” they were positively beaming. They were so beautiful.

“Just to see. I mean, I still have to use she and her at work but, just in private.”

“Of course, babe.”

Valkyrie cupped their face and kissed them deeply.

She ended up buying Finka something, a silver bracelet in the colored stones in the nonbinary colors as the setting. Something simple and discreet yet powerful where it mattered.

~~

Montagne had texted the couples to be on their way back to the group when Blitz finally realized he wasn’t just looking like a rainbow, but rather a discontented victim of a rainbow being sick.

“What’s wrong, Schatz?”

The giant man sighed, folding his arms over his chest.

“So… there is something wrong…?”

“If it were any other day, I wouldn’t have minded, but today…”

“Where else could you do this…?”

“It is not the location, it is the look!” he gestured down at himself. “The timing of it!”

“I don’t understand… ok, ja, I can see why I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Montagne raised a glitter encrusted eyebrow.

“Ok, completely carried away.”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is not the fun you were having that I have a problem with, I am used to your antics.”

Blitz went pink, and bashful. Like a puppy being scolded.

“And you know I love your antics, ge added quickly. But why of all days,” Gilles trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose, and very nearly getting glitter in his eyes.

“Because… its Pride…”

“Yes, you’ve been saying this the whole time.”

“We can go wash it all off, I’m sorry,” Elias said, crestfallen as he moved past him towards the bathrooms.

Montagne caught him around the chest with his arm just as the rest of the group returned, “Non, it's fine… its fine. Perfection is not needed.”

He saw Doc and Loon quickly fumble for their phones, thankfully behind Blitz’s back. Once they nodded, he guided Blitz back to in front of him. “These past few years I’ve known you, you’ve done nothing but make me happy. Your antics, your jokes, your dedication, your downright sweetness, even the way you tap your helmet during exercises. Even before we started seeing each other, your smile would light up my heart and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Gilles…”

Gilles sank to one knee, pulling out a shining wedding ring from his pocket.

“Will you marry me?”

Elias had clapped his hands over his mouth, unable to process this. Their group, except for the GIGN of course, were surprised and estatic. Valkyrie even exclaimed “So that’s what you French bastards were hiding.”

Blitz still hadn’t answered, his eyes shining.

“Elias?”

“Ja! Natürlich sage ich ja, du großer Dummkopf!”

“I assume that's a…”

Blitz very nearly bowled him over to give him his acceptance kiss. He lifted him up as he stood, Elias straddling his hips and swung them around, a dazzling display as the glitter caught the sunshine.

“I’m sorry I got irritated, I just wanted this to go a certain way,” he breathed when their lips parted.

“Schatz, you could have proposed to me covered in mud and sweat.”

“I know,” he said. “But I still wanted to make an effort. I wanted to do it right.”

“You did,” he said. “Look at you, covered in rainbows, just to make me happy, ja?

“Mmm,” he said as Elias lowered himself back to the ground.

Blitz understood now. Gilles was a traditional romantic after all, wanting the candlelit dinners and picnics at the parks on Sundays. He wanted that to extend to his proposal but Blitz was too excited to have silly fun to notice.

“Hey,” he said. Despite the heat they couldn’t stop embracing. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you too.”

“If you want,” he whispered. “We can still have your perfect proposal night.”

“Two proposals?”

“Ja, why not? I’ll still be excited.”

Gilles gave it a thought. “I’ll have to make things more romantic between us,” he murmured. “Just to throw you off so you don’t know when its coming.”

“Oooh,” Blitz said, draping his arms over Gilles’s shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

They dazzled them with another sweeping, showstopping dipped kiss, because of course they did.

“I agree with Lion,” Finka laughed with a grin. “You two are disgusting.”

Blitz laughed into Gilles’s mouth, and flipped her off without looking away.

“Great, now those two set the standard for romantic proposals,” Maverick said.

“Does that mean we’re going to be competing now?” Castle said, perking up.

“I’ll win,” Valkyrie declared. “The rest of you might as well quit now..”

“Pfft, nah, man, if anyone’s winning that it's me.”

“You know, we French have romance in our blood,” Lion said. “I wouldn’t even have to try and I’d win.”

While they dissolved into bickering, the silent ones of their pairs all shared a look, realizing at once what their partners had implied.

Blitz and Monty still had yet to look up from their glitter makeout, oblivious to what they had just started.

[lady-divine-writes]

Trust (Rated NC17)

Summary: After close to a decade of not seeing one another, a box shows up at Aziraphale's bookshop, its contents a reminder of emotional wounds ...

... and a cry for help. (4931 words)

Notes: So yeah, apparently I lied when I said I was finished writing au's based off of @whiteleyfoster's 'Prince of Omens'. This idea hit me quite out of the blue, that by creating the Prince of Omens au, it sort of altered the timeline of the original story, which then led me to imagine filling in the gaps of history with stories starring this version of the characters. This takes place, I would say, sometime between the Blitz and the 60s, which may have fed into some of the decisions taken place by the characters between that time. Plus, I thought it was a very romantic, touching, and hot moment for the two of them, being sniffed out by Hell. Anyway, let me know what you all think <3

Read on AO3.

Please say you trust me.

Those are the only words written on the gold card tucked inside the box that shows up at Aziraphale’s bookshop on Thursday afternoon, packed alongside a few other choice items: a white blindfold, a pair of golden handcuffs, and a hotel room key. There’s no return address on the box, no name on the card, only the initials AJC.

But Aziraphale didn’t need those.

He knew.

Before he opened the box and saw its contents, he knew who’d sent it.

He could sense Crowley’s magical signature all over it.

Aziraphale examines the contents for a long while, his heart pounding in his chest. They’re not a random collection of offerings. Aside from how Crowley means them, each one is symbolic.

The white blindfold harks back to the ribbon that has become so sacred to Crowley - the one Aziraphale tied around the plant he gave the demon back in Egypt.

The meaning behind the cuffs comes from around that same time.

Standing on the banks of the Red Sea, watching Moses tend to his flock of the faithful as they readied themselves for the journey on, Crowley had gazed across the water in the direction they’d come, the bitterest, sweetest expression of sorrow on his handsome face.

“What is it, my dear?” Aziraphale had asked. “Why do you seem so melancholy? All’s well that ends well, don’t you think?”

“How is it,” he’d said, staring at the water, unable to look Aziraphale in the eye, “that I can continue to be such a tremendous failure?”

“How can you say that!? None of these people would have been able to escape Pharaoh if not for you! You’re a hero!”

“But just as many lost their lives because of me! Because I was too arrogant to be specific with my instructions! But that’s just who I am … what I do …”

“No, my dear …” Aziraphale put a hand on his arm “… that’s not true at all. Stop saying that … please …”

Crowley turned to Aziraphale but with eyes shut, unable to take his kindness, accept his sympathy.

“It’s humbling. They showered me with riches, built me a temple. I’d planted myself as a God among them so I could stir up a little mischief, but they tempted me. And like an idiot, I fell for it.” Crowley shook his head. “To be brought to my knees, have that torn away … it makes me realize what I really am. What I’ve been all along.”

“Lesson learned then,” Aziraphale said. Crowley’s eyes snapped open, heartbreak dulling their shimmering gold depths. “Because you are what you should be. And that’s free.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed. “W-what do you mean?”

“The temple, those clothes, the gold - they had strings attached. They kept you beholden to Pharaoh. Turned you into a slave.” Aziraphale shifted Crowley’s gaze away from the water and aimed it towards the land, to the people gathered there. “By doing what you did, helping these people, enduring, suffering … you’re not a slave anymore. Not to Pharaoh. You’re free.”

Aziraphale recalls those words, the smile they’d brought to Crowley’s face, the embrace that followed, the dozen kisses and more … and he frowns.

Because where it’s true that Crowley freed himself from Egypt, he’s still a servant.

As is Aziraphale.

They’re both in the same boat - conscripted to a higher power that commands their moves, often using them as pawns.

Or worse.

As toys.

And they play with them the way spoiled children do.

Roughly.

If they break, Heaven and Hell will consign them to the bottom of the toy box and find new angels and demons to replace them.

Aziraphale has a sinking suspicion that’s part of what’s going on now - Hell commanding its servant, holding his feet to the fire. But to do what, Aziraphale hasn’t a clue.

The words written on the card are a linchpin.

Please say you trust me.

Aziraphale had said something similar to Crowley when they’d made love in his temple and he’d used his precious white ribbon on him as a blindfold.

Crowley repeated the sentiment back to him when God sent Death to reap the first born. Death would have reaped Crowley, too, if not for Aziraphale. Crowley promised he would try to save the innocent but that Aziraphale needed to have faith in him.

Aziraphale said - “Always, my dear.”

Faith.

Trust.

Aziraphale and Crowley had known one another for 2500 years by the time they met up in Egypt, but it was during that time that Aziraphale truly learned to trust Crowley. Crowley had been gifted Aziraphale’s trust during the years they spent watching over Moses. He lost it, but earned it back in spades. Since then, he’s run to Aziraphale’s rescue time and time again, saving him from beheadings, bombings …

… re-assignment.

And despite this cloak-and-dagger, Aziraphale trusts Crowley now.  

Aziraphale didn’t know Crowley was in town. They hadn’t seen one another in close to a decade. Aziraphale knew Crowley would turn up one of these days, but not like this.

He holds out hope the objects in the box are for pleasure, but he’s sure they’re for business. Trust or no, that makes him nervous. He doesn’t like not knowing what’s in store for him. The real torture will be in waiting, guessing.

But, luckily, not too long.

Aziraphale finds out the following night.

He had no idea when Crowley would call for him. He’d hoped Crowley would come for him himself - show up on his doorstep in a smart black suit, all seductive secrets and sly smiles.

A car comes for him instead, driven by a human chauffeur.

A block away from the hotel, he senses them.

Demons.

Lots of them.

Lurking around corners, hiding in the shadows, ducking out of sight.

Watching him arrive.

Even on this main thoroughfare bustling with people, there are more demons around than he’s ever felt in a single place.

His body goes cold.

“Long night?” Aziraphale asks the driver, making small talk to keep his mind off of whatever’s waiting for him ahead. It feels like a trap, every molecule of his celestial form screaming at him to get out of the car and run, that he’s been betrayed. But he can’t think like that. Crowley wouldn’t put him in harm’s way.

He has to believe heart and soul he wouldn’t.

Especially not after that note.

Please say you trust me.

“You could say that.”

“Where are you headed after this, my dear?”

“I’ve been hired on for the night by the blokes who hired me to get you,” the man says, peeking at Aziraphale through the rear view. “Good thing, too. Heaven knows I need the money.”

“Hard times, hmm?”

“It’s my daughter Liza,” the man says with a lump in his throat. “She’s come down sick. The doctors here don’t know what to do for her. We’re hoping to take her to the states. We’ve heard there are doctors there that can help her.”

“I see.” Aziraphale scans the streets around them. Something doesn’t feel right (on top of everything else that already doesn’t feel right). Evil clings to this man, though, in his heart, he is good.

It’s not him, Aziraphale discovers as he reaches out with his angelic senses. It’s the company he keeps. He’s been hired by demons. Not Crowley but others. They’ve promised him a great deal of money to be their errand boy - escort prostitutes around the city and deliver some dangerous packages to some powerful people.

But they have no intention of paying him.

Because he will not survive the night.

He’s disposable. A nobody in the grand scheme. That’s why they hired him. That’s what the demons are counting on - cruel since demons can masquerade as humans and do their own dirty work.

But it’s loads more fun to trick some unsuspecting mortal to do it for them.

In the end, after he’s taken part in some shady deals (unbeknownst to him) they’ll have his soul for Hell. It’s a demonic loophole. (They have enough lawyers to ensure them it’s sound.) And even though Aziraphale wants to maintain a low profile, he can’t let this happen.

The chauffeur pulls up to the curb in front of The Savoy and puts his car into park.

“Here we are,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Aziraphale. “Do you need help up to your room or …?”

“Not at all, young man.” Aziraphale reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rolled-up wad of notes bound together by a rubber band. The driver waits patiently for Aziraphale to count out his tip. His eyes blow wide when Aziraphale hands him the entire thing.

“I … are you serious, sir?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says with a smile. “For a job well done. Best ride I’ve had in ages.”

“I … I can’t accept this!” the man says, an expression of pain passing over his face as a voice in his head - probably his wife’s - screams, ‘Yes, you can, you idiot! Don’t argue!’ “I only drove you twelve city blocks!”

“You can accept it, and you will.” Aziraphale snaps his fingers, using a little angelic magic to cease any more arguing. “And now you’re going to drive straight home, pack your family up, and head to the airport. Get on board TWA flight 530 to Los Angeles, and get your daughter well.”

A second snap of his fingers sees to that. Liza will greet her father at the door to their humble flat completely cancer free. But Aziraphale needs to get him and his family out of town. He knows what will happen when the demons discover this man has skipped out on his duties.

Needless to say, they won’t be happy.

“Thank you, sir! I … I don’t know how I could ever re-pay you!”

“I do. Forget you ever saw me. And forget the men who hired you.” Aziraphale snaps one last time, gets out of the car, and heads for the front door. He pauses when he hears the car pull away from the curb, watching it drive off into the night. If a demon ever does manage to catch up with him, they should be able to tell that his mind has been wiped by an angel. That and the fact that he’s blessed should keep them off his back.

Aziraphale shows his key to the doorman, who directs him to the room he needs. He declines any more offers of help and continues on alone.

For a Friday night, it’s pretty mellow at The Savoy. Most everyone is out on the town, living it up. Which means no one notices the middle-aged man in the cream-colored coat slip down the hallway and take the elevator to the top floor.

No one will notice if he disappears.

He starts out with shoulders squared and head held high, carrying the box Crowley sent him tucked under one arm. But as he walks down the quiet hall, the demonic smell growing stronger and more pungent with every step, the box creeps out from underneath his arm to his chest where he hugs it close.

He stops in front of the door and fits the key in the lock, his hands shaking as he does. He breathes out slowly, counts to three. He hasn’t even unlocked the door but he feels him on the other side.

Crowley.

In this room.

Waiting for him.

Crowley summoned him here and now Aziraphale is about to turn himself over to him.

Him and about a dozen other demons.

His heart double-thumps with excitement.

His head swims with fear.

He unlocks the door, pushes it open.

It opens unto darkness.

“Hello?” he calls inside, reluctant to take a step in but he knows he must.

Please say you trust me.

Those words ring in his ears. They aren’t simple words, not easy. They have weight to them, a history.

They’re a plea.

It’s not until he closes the door behind him that he notices Crowley’s silhouette standing beside the foot of a large bed over by the window.

The door locks behind him without him touching it.

It’s more than a bit unsettling.

Aziraphale walks over to the bed and sets the box down .

“Crowley?” he says, waiting for the demon to acknowledge his arrival in any way. Aziraphale wants to rush into his arms, kiss him on the mouth, whisper words of love against his skin.

But a voice in his mind tells him this isn’t the time for that.

It’s ridiculous. He knows he’s in very real danger of being discorporated but he can’t help noticing … Crowley looks stunning. He’s been growing his hair out. It’s not long yet, but it’s not short either. It’s just long enough for Aziraphale to run his fingers through, wind the strands around and pull him close. He’s dressed for bed - barefoot, black pajama pants, and shirtless, the planes of his chest and his flat stomach on enticing display. Even his scar - that horrible scar from Aziraphale’s flaming sword - looks delicious in this low light.

Positively kissable.

And he’s not wearing his glasses. Not hiding his eyes.

Though he’s never had to hide his eyes from Aziraphale.

Crowley doesn’t look at Aziraphale as the angel inches closer, eyes searching his face for an explanation. Aziraphale gets within touching distance, but Crowley takes a step away.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands.

“Wh-what?”

“What’s wrong, principality? Did I stutter?”

“No,” Aziraphale says, fighting to maintain a composure that’s a feather’s touch away from shattering like a plate glass window, “you didn’t. But I …”

“Then be a good little angel and obey. Maybe you haven’t noticed but you’re not the one in control. You have no power here.”

Snickers travel around the room and from the strangest of locations: in a closet, under the bed, on the ceiling. Aziraphale doesn’t look up to check. If there is a demon hanging from the chandelier above him, he’d rather not see it with his own eyes.

Stunned into silence like Crowley slapped him in the face, Aziraphale slips off his coat and lays it on the bed, then reaches for his shirt. With every button he undoes, his mind reels, searching for a solution. From the smell of this place, there are demons everywhere - in the room, in the hallway, on the street outside. So running is not an option. He could miracle his way out, but that would cause a paper trail he’d have to explain to Gabriel, which would lead to three possible outcomes: one - Gabriel reprimands Aziraphale for the use of a frivolous miracle (because, apparently, saving himself is considered frivolous); two - this incident starts a battle with Hell, which may not end well for Earth as a whole; or three - Gabriel presses Hell for answers and Hell offers up Crowley as a sacrifice.

Aziraphale can’t risk hurting Crowley any more than he could risk hurting Earth. Plus, that would leave Crowley at the mercy of Hell since his mission would have failed.

Aziraphale has no choice but to play along and hope that an explanation comes to light.

He’ll keep you safe. He won’t hurt you. He’ll explain this to you. Trust him.

“Everything,” Crowley says when Aziraphale stops at his pants, his voice undeniably softer when he says, “I want to see everything.”

That softness, more than anything, encourages Aziraphale on.

When Aziraphale has completely undressed, Crowley approaches. His eyes - a serpent’s eyes from rim to rim where they’d normally appear a bit more human - are uncharacteristically unforgiving, but Aziraphale doesn’t miss the subtle once over Crowley gives him, how it causes him to miss a step.

Crowley reaches out a hand. Aziraphale thinks he’s reaching for him, his body starving for his touch. For a second, Crowley seems to consider it. But he grabs the box instead. He opens it, exposing its contents. He reaches inside and pulls out the golden handcuffs. He grabs Aziraphale’s wrists, locking them in front of him.

“C-Crowley? What’s going on?” Aziraphale asks, starting to get nervous, the other demons in the room an ominous presence even though he doesn’t see them. “You’re going a bit fast for me.”

Crowley leads Aziraphale to the bed, maneuvers him like a dog on a leash by the chain of those handcuffs, has him climb up on it and kneel on the mattress. Then he takes Aziraphale by the chin and stares deep into his eyes. “Pay attention, principality, because I won’t tell you again.” Crowley starts to speak, posturing on about how Aziraphale is his prisoner, how he’s there to serve him, please him, bend to his whims. Aziraphale hears him, his words playing in the corner of his mind like a scratchy record on an ancient gramophone, warped and skipping, out of tune.

But what he hears louder than that are the words Crowley projects to the forefront of his brain.

Words that tremble, steeped in fear.

‘I need your help, angel. Please? Do what I say? They’re watching.’

Aziraphale sees Crowley gulp, feels his own throat ache with the bob of his Adam’s apple.

Crowley’s power is fueled by his imagination. That’s one of the things that makes him unique among demons. Aziraphale and Crowley had discovered long ago that he can make Aziraphale hear whatever he wants him to hear, even over long distances.

He’s using that power now to communicate with him.

‘I know you feel them. I can’t explain but I promise, I won’t let them hurt you. I swear it.’

Crowley takes the blindfold out of the box and starts tying it over Aziraphale’s eyes.

‘I … I don’t understand, Crowley,’ Aziraphale thinks, knowing Crowley will hear.

‘I’ll explain later but please … please say you trust me.’

Aziraphale nods. ‘Always, my dear.’

‘And no matter what I say … know that I love you.’

‘I do.’

Crowley knots the blindfold twice - once to secure it, a second time to stall, giving him a moment to gather the courage he needs to say what’s coming next.

‘I need to compel your wings. They want to see them. They want to see me … force you to reveal them.’

Aziraphale shudders, memories of having his wings ripped into existence by other demons flooding his thoughts.

Crowley sees. His hands ball into fists.

Having one’s wings compelled can be an uncomfortable, even painful business.

It’s also the ultimate humiliation.

But for Crowley, Aziraphale would do practically anything.

‘Of course. Just … be careful.’

‘I will,” Crowley promises, his voice thick with curses and a deep hatred of himself that Aziraphale can’t help but feel. He wishes he could put a comforting hand on his shoulder and give him strength.

With any luck, there will be time for that later.

Aziraphale breathes in deep, trying to relax when he sees Crowley raise a hand. Aziraphale closes his eyes, surrenders control of his wings to Crowley, telling himself it will be okay.

He’s with Crowley. His Crowley. The Crowley he’s known and loved for thousands of years. They’ll get past this hurdle, attack the next.

They’ll get through this together.

The pinch in his shoulder blades feels all too familiar and almost sends him into a panic. He recedes deeper into himself, reminds himself of better times he’s had with Crowley in bed. The room goes silent, the demons observing on the edge of their seats, captivated by the events unfolding in front of them. In the midst of that silence, Aziraphale can hear his own heartbeat.

Immediately following, he hears Crowley’s.

Then their breathing mixed together, the mingling of it bringing a wash of calm to Aziraphale’s mind. A blue glow builds beneath his skin, filling the room, casting eerie shadows of the hiding demons across the floor.

Then his wings begin to appear.

With his eyes closed behind the blindfold, Aziraphale doesn’t see the glow, can’t notice the demons. He feels the heat of Crowley’s power sink into his skin, spiral through his body, coaxing his wings out of hiding with the caress of hands born of fire.

Aziraphale gasps when his wings break free and unfurl, a completion in its own right.

An intensely intimate, highly erotic experience.

Aziraphale stretches his wings when Crowley relinquishes control of them. It is part of the dress code for angels on Earth to keep them hidden, but he feels comforted by them. They soothe him, give him a sense of security.

‘Aziraphale …’

Crowley’s voice pierces its way through Aziraphale’s calm. It’s both welcome and a harsh reminder that this isn’t the end of their ordeal. There’s more to come.

‘Yes?’

‘I need to … umm …’

‘Just tell me, my dear. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us out of this.’

Crowley hems and haws, but he can’t find the strength to say. ‘They’ll want it to look like I’m forcing you.’

‘Do what you must.’

Aziraphale could very well choose to see through the blindfold but he decides not to. He stays in the moment with Crowley, let’s the suspense of his next move well up within him, give the demons in the dark the smell of his anticipation to feast on while they mistake it for fear.

He hears a rustle of fabric, feels Crowley’s hand on his head, a whimper rising from the demon’s throat.

He doesn’t want to do this. Aziraphale knows he doesn’t want to do this.

Crowley pushes down, dragging Aziraphale’s head to his crotch. Aziraphale pretends to struggle. But when he feels the head of Crowley’s cock nudge his lips, he forgets to protest, forgets that they’re in anything even close to danger.

Because he loves Crowley. Crowley loves him.

And it’s been too long since they’ve had one another.

Aziraphale opens his mouth and slowly, ever so slowly, slides down over him, licking along the way, the way he knows Crowley likes, doing his part to remind him that they’re in this together, that he’s with him whatever it takes.

Crowley threads trembling fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, bites his tongue to keep from moaning Aziraphale’s name. He thrusts up with his hips, pushes down lightly, his body begging with every twitch for Aziraphale to go faster.

For him to get this over with, put him out of his misery.

Because Crowley has dreamt of this - just this - since the last time they saw one another.

It’s cruel that he should get it now in front of prying eyes.

He rises to his knees, putting his hands on Aziraphale’s head and taking over, assaulting his mouth shallowly, trying to make it appear to the eyes around him that he’s fucking his mouth, violating him, hurting him. He doesn’t do this to his angel. He’s never done this to him. He wouldn’t.

But it’d be too easy.

It feels too good.

Not just the physical sensation of Aziraphale’s mouth around him, but the pushing him.

The forcing him.

The demon inside him rises up with each thrust, whispers in his ears to snap his hips harder, push in farther, hold Aziraphale’s head flush against him till tears leak from his eyes with the strain of his corporal form holding its breath.

But he can’t do that, he repeats to himself. He won’t do that. He won’t give in.

He won’t become like the owners of those coal black eyes watching them.

“Stop,” Crowley mumbles, mostly to himself, slipping out of Aziraphale’s mouth, regretting it the moment the cool air touches his skin. “That’s not how I want to finish. Hands and knees. Now, angel!”

‘Tell me to stop,’ he projects, ‘then beg me not to. Really sell it.’

“You … you can’t do this!” Aziraphale scrambles to obey, rolling onto his hands and knees. And even though this is fake, his nerves scatter, wondering about the origin of the edge in Crowley’s voice.

The fiery yellow simmer in his eyes, the one he’d glimpsed before the blindfold.

“Please, Crowley! I … I’m begging you! Don’t …”

“Sorry, angel. I want this too much. I need this too much.”

Crowley doesn’t give Aziraphale time to get comfortable. He grabs him, shoves his face to the sheets, spreads his cheeks apart, lines his cock with the angel’s entrance, and pushes in. Pushes hard.

It doesn’t hurt, but Aziraphale cries out.

Crowley curls black painted nails into the soft skin of Aziraphale’s hips, leaving bruises that rival the scars on his back. But even through this facade of violence, Aziraphale feels Crowley’s love. He still tries to make this good for Aziraphale. Crowley leans forward, presses the odd kiss against his skin, plays with speed and angles, searching out new spots that will make Aziraphale’s eyes roll, his back arch and his toes curl, make him moan louder despite himself. The thought that others are watching should make Aziraphale burn with embarrassment but he doesn’t care.

It’s been so long.

And he’s missed Crowley so much.

“No …” Aziraphale whispers, the fight fading from his voice. “Don’t … stop … d-don’t stop …”

“I claim you, angel,” Crowley growls. “Soon you’ll feel my fire inside of you. From this day forward, you can never escape me. I’ll be able to find you from here to the ends of the Earth. You’re mine. You belong to me.”

“Oh …” Aziraphale squeaks. Crowley’s words sound rehearsed but they feel real.

Like a vow.

“Yes,” Aziraphale moans beyond improvisation. “Yes, I … I belong to you. Claim me, demon …” he continues, his voice dissolving into gasps. “Claim me … I’m yours …”

Crowley shudders at those words.

‘Oh, Aziraphale.’

‘Crowley …’

‘I love you …’

‘I love you, too.’

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighs. “Oh Go---”

Crowley grabs a handful of Aziraphale’s hair, pulls his head back and crashes their mouths together before he can finish. “She’s not here right now,” he says, his voice heavy with anger and regret. “Your words belong to me, angel. Your moans, your whimpers, they’re mine. Say it!”

“They’re … they’re yours. All yours. I …”

Crowley cuts him off with a kiss, his body shaking as he comes inside his angel. Aziraphale follows, his knees giving out, sliding out from under him. He lands on his belly with Crowley on top of him.

His favorite position to be in, all things considered.

Through his orgasmic haze and the utter joy of coming in Crowley’s arms, he hears a mass of uncomfortable whispering, some sinister laughter, and one derisive snort.

Aziraphale feels the demons retreat, slide into the shadows, evaporating into the black.

“They’re … they’re satisfied,” Crowley pants, the relief in his voice seeping through Aziraphale’s skin and winding around his heart. “They’re going back to Hell. Hastur isn’t happy about it but they … they won’t hurt us.”

Hastur.

Aziraphale’s breath hitches.

Hastur was there.

A Duke of Hell.

Aziraphale had convinced himself that the demons in the room were minions. Underlings. He had no reason to believe that, really. No proof. It’s simply something he assumed.

But Hastur?

Who else had been there? Who else had watched?

Beelzebub maybe?

Will they report to Satan?

To the Archangels!?

Aziraphale knows that some of the higher demons do.

Will Michael find out? Uriel?

Will Gabriel?

Too soon, the warm glow of satiation, of being wrapped in Crowley’s arms again, his cock buried inside his body, siphons into the chill around them.

“I … I don’t want to stay here,” Aziraphale says, starting to shiver.

“Neither do I.” Crowley unfurls his own wings. He curls them around Aziraphale, wrapping them both up tight. Then, with a snap of his fingers, angel and demon disappear.

***

“It was a test,” Crowley explains, lying side by side with his angel in a different bed, a different room, grooming Aziraphale’s wings with careful fingers. “I wasn’t performing up to par for Hastur. I failed my performance review.” He chuckles. “First time in history. So I had to come up with something big. Something that would get them off my back for a few centuries.” From behind, arms wrapped around him, his chest pressed to Aziraphale’s back, Aziraphale feels Crowley swallow hard. “Hastur was adamant it was your fault. My associations with you, no matter how few and far between, were making me soft. They were planning on coming after you to get to me. I had to do something to get us both off their radar. Corrupting an angel …” Another hard swallow “… was the worst thing I could think of.”

Aziraphale smirks. “Little do they know I corrupted you a long time ago, my dear.”

“It was selfish, a-and it was wrong,” Crowley stumbles. “And I’m …”

Aziraphale tilts his head back, kisses Crowley gently on the lips. “I didn’t despise it, my love. I quite like role-playing with you. Maybe, someday, we could do it again. When it’s just you and me.”

“I didn’t want to turn you into a spectacle,” Crowley says, refusing to let Aziraphale absolve him so easily. “That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t want to humiliate you. I just … I didn’t know what else to do. I …”

Aziraphale kisses Crowley again when he feels tears roll down his cheeks that aren’t his own.

“You kept me safe,” Aziraphale whispers. “The way you promised. And I’m not going to lose you. We won’t lose each other. It was worth it.”

[blitz-and-hearth]

Some empty cups family trans headcanons because I’m feeling dysphoric after being called she all Thanksgiving and need that good shit right now (tw for talking about periods, dysphoria, and transphobia) And when I say empty cups, I mean all the empty cups so long post beware 

Blitzen figured it out at a very young age, his father Bili had some nonbinary leanings (but didn’t know it was a thing when he was young) so he encouraged little Blitz to experiment with gender expression to his heart’s content  

He was probably about 7 or 8 when he decided to start going by male pronouns 

Blitzen is his birth name, dwarven names are usually pretty gender-neutral. He didn’t feel like he needed to change it 

Thanks to both male and female dwarves growing beards he’s pretty comfortable in his own skin even after puberty. He does end up getting top surgery the very minute he can though. Has no plans for bottom surgery 

BUTTON UP SHIRTS AND LAYERS ALL THE TIME 

It's just a transmasc thing

And you know he’s always wearing suits and ties not just because they’re fashionable but make him very euphoric

Dwarven culture isn’t much better than humans when it comes to accepting trans folk, however, they do consider cosmetic surgery a craft, so their own rules mean they have to respect any and all transitioning surgeries  

Mostly Blitzen just doesn’t talk about it much unless someone else brings it up. His father never made a big deal out of it so neither does he

Mostly situational dysphoria, when he’s around his mother or other people who knew him before he transition, other dwarves who can better tell the different subtleties of cis dwarf gender, and of course on the dreaded shark week 

Humans and Midgard are both awesome because they see the beard and can’t tell the difference between “male” vs “female” facial hair like other dwarves do. Very easy to pass there 

Hearthstone obviously was not in a safe place to explore his gender growing up

On top of all the other shit he had going on during his childhood he was constantly feeling wrong and uncomfortable in his own body 

Lots of dissociation and frustration

Alderman wouldn’t let him cut his hair, forced him to wear dresses, and constantly said shit like “bE mOrE lAdYlIkE”  

Hearthstone finally figures it out after accidentally stumbling across some websites while trying to research magic. It's just a post on a blog about some spell for good luck to help with transitioning but it’s how he learns being trans is like a real thing 

It was both great to know there were other people like him but also like the worst possible news because he knows he could never ever come out and transition while living under his parent’s roof 

He was only about 13 and lots of tears were had that night

The very next day he has his first period and just can not anymore 

Full snap, cuts his hair short for the very first time, binds his chest grabs what little he owns and gets the hell out of there that day 

Meets Blitzen like right after so needless to say he didn’t get much time to explore. He wasn’t about to come out to someone he just met, that shits scary what would he do if Blitzen didn’t accept him? He wouldn’t be strong enough to try world jumping for weeks and wouldn’t survive in Nidavellir without the sunbed 

Blitzen had his suspicions but obviously understood why he’d be nervous about coming out, so he just kept his mouth shut about it until Hearthstone felt like talking about it 

I’ve made a post about this before, but it happens on accident while Hearth is changing because a) he wasn’t allowed to lock doors growing up b) wouldn’t notice if you knocked to see if he’s in there anyway 

What’s not reflected in the comic is Blitzen silently screaming because Hearth has been using ace bandages to bind does he know how dangerous that is???? But he didn’t say anything about it right then because this was a sensitive situation and he wanted to make sure Hearthstone knew he was in the same boat and nothing would change before starting to scold him  

Hearthstone cried a lot

It's a big moment that builds their friendship and later romantic relationship and after that Hearthstone starts being a lot more honest about his past with Blitzen

Hearthstone isn’t his birth name, his dead name is probably something to do with flowers, super feminine and he hated it. He doesn’t have a real reason for choosing Hearthstone since it was a bit spur of the moment when Blitzen asked his name. Blitz later asked if he’s sure that's what he wants to go with and Hearthstone decides to stick with it 

Part of the deal with Mimir was his parents forgetting that he was born female. It really was no question at all which choice he’d take 

(Inge remembers but respects his pronouns because she’s a fucking decent person) 

It’s the only reason Alderman didn’t constantly misgender and deadname him. Being in his old home and seeing his father still reminds him of how it used to be though 

Hearth has more bad dysphoria days than good. Blitzen is always right there to tell him he looks handsome and very masculine today. Blitz doesn’t have as many bad dysphoria days but you bet your ass when he does Hearthstone will absolutely provide a constant flow of compliments until he starts to feel better   

Hearthstone used runes to transition because if you’re trans you’ve totally daydreamed about how awesome and less scary it would be if magic was real. He offered Blitzen to do the same but Blitz had already had top surgery and doesn't really want bottom surgery so he turns it down 

Magnus was also encouraged to try exploring his gender from a young age by his mother 

I mean.... Just take a moment look at Magnus’ mom for a sec 

Yeah that woman ain’t straight Magnus had a good childhood while she was around 

I still think it took him a while though

Just because he didn’t really think about it much until puberty happened 

He was just starting to think about his gender when his mother died 

Later looking back it makes him really sad that he never got to tell her

Then he was homeless and a bit busy 

He learned Blitzen and Hearth are both trans pretty quick though 

I think this is even mentioned in canon that there's not a lot of privacy living on the street 

Probably got an idea when he ran out of pads 

Magnus: Fuck I’m out of pads and still got like three days left :/ Blitzen: *handing him some spare pads* Here I got you covered kid Magnus: ?????? Why? do you have these???? 

He’s a little slow on the uptake bless him 

Eventually, he sees Blitz and Hearth’s chest scars and is like OH 

He starts asking them both a lot of questions, still thinking its just innocent curiosity but Blitz and Hearth are sharing knowing looks the whole time

Sure enough like only a few days later he’s like “I think I wanna go by Magnus now” 

His mother had mentioned to him that’s the name she’d have gone with if he’d been born male and he liked it enough to keep her wish 

I wanna say his dead name starts with a B? I dunno why    

Birthdays don’t mean much to Magnus while homeless but Blitzen and Hearthstone get him a binder for his 15th birthday, refuse to explain where they got it 

(Blitz made it but Hearth was the one to steal the materials he needed) 

Magnus obviously never had the option for medical transitioning while alive and homeless, but if given the choice he’d probably get on T but not have any surgeries

Jack is a sword who canonically picked his own name and it’s talked about there being female swords despite having no genital or way to tell, all living weapons choose their own gender he’s trans 

Samirah can’t remember not knowing she was a girl 

Like Alex she probably just knew from very early 

Her grandparents are mentioned being a bit more forward-thinking so while they’re probably not happy per se they allow her to experiment anyway, thinking it a phase 

It’s not a phase 

Her grandparents mess up her pronouns often and don’t get it all, but its happened less and less the longer she’s been going by female pronouns

They eventually arrange her a properly planned marriage once they realize she’s not changing her mind about being a girl, much to her pleasure  

Wearing her hijab and following other classic Muslim gender rules, like having a betrothed and not being alone with a boy, make her very euphoric and happy 

She knew right away Magnus was trans too since she like... literally handled his soul when taking him to Valhalla

Seems like something a Valkyrie would be able to tell 

Sam is very excited because this is the first time she’s met another trans person but doesn’t know how to bring it up 

I’m picturing it happening after they meet Thor when she and Magnus are talking by the campfire 

She just awkwardly blurts out “So uh gender huh?”

Magnus has no idea what she’s trying to say at first but once he does he’s very excited to talk trans with her 

ftm and mtf solidarity bitch!!!!

Then Alex gets thrown into the mix 

She doesn’t know about any of this  

Eventually, Sam finds the time to talk to her about her gender, and naturally Alex is ecstatic. It's part of why he takes such joy in being Sam’s chaperone

This happens pretty soon after Alex arrives in Vallhalla 

But Alex doesn’t find out the rest are trans too till much later 

It just sort of slips out from Blitz, a mention of feeling a bit dysphoric that day and Alex is like “!?!!!!” 

After hearing a bit more about Alex’s past Blitzen goes to Hearth and suggests he talk to her 

They have a very good venting session about growing up trans with shitty shitty parents 

Alex learns about Magnus last 

It’s when he comes to Magnus’ room after celebrating and Magnus got covered in chocolate 

Magnus has his shirt off and Alex sees his binder and is just like “!!!!!!” 

Magnus is a bit flustered but doesn’t really mind being seen shirtless since its Alex and he already knows he’s trans too so he’s not about to get attacked or called a slur 

Just like... Alex realizing his whole new little family is trans 

Just the whole empty cups fam being trans and all having very different ways of experiencing and expressing it but supporting each other through it all. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[kiruuuuu]

Bandit/Jäger oneshot in which they’re on holiday, and maybe, just maybe, Bandit is up to something. Includes Sledge/Maestro, Smoke/Mute, Blitz/Rook and my recruits!! (Rating T/M, chaos, shenanigans + fluff, ~9.3k words) -  written for @grasshopper643​! This was an absolute blast, thank you so so much for commissioning me, and also for including the recruits 💖💖

.

Bandit awakens to birdsong, crickets chirping up a storm, bright sunlight falling into the comfy room smelling of old wood, and another body draped over his. Mind blissfully blank, he takes advantage of the marvellous situation he finds himself in: a deep breath fills his lungs with warm, fragrant summer air, and when he tilts his head to feel the soothing rays on his cheeks, he just happens to snuggle closer to the man atop him. Hands wander over exposed skin, travel down the dip of the lower waist, climb the gentle rise a bit further down, fingertips digging into inviting flesh.

Jäger stirs, not much, just enough so Bandit knows he’s awake, and wraps even tighter around him with a contented sigh. Normally, an embrace this snug would feel suffocating, and normally, the start of a new day would be met with unwilling groans and mutual shoving, but they’re on holiday. Bandit’s mind is at peace here, aided by the floral scent of all the flowers thriving not only outside the small house but scattered inside, too, inhabiting vases everywhere and mixing with the building’s own organic smell. Jäger’s personal one is merely the cherry on top.

Lazily, Bandit mouths at his lover’s shoulder while continuing the really quite lovely groping, massaging plump cheeks in preparation of early morning sex, something for which they rarely have the time. But they’re on holiday. They can do what they want. If he was any more awake, he might endeavour to take Jäger apart with his tongue until his moans turn into these hoarse pleas which never fail to drive Bandit insane, yet he’s afraid they’ll have to make do with languid humping amid deep kisses – travelling to their destination yesterday was surprisingly exhausting and they needed the sleep.

Nibbling at Jäger’s nape of the neck earns him his first moan for the day, so he uses more teeth, continues down that vein and grins to himself when Jäger stretches into his ministrations, sees a shadow move by the window and looks up, over Jäger’s shoulder, to -

- to be faced with five pairs of eyes. Very wide, and very curious.

His gaze must’ve turned murderous as all five idiots drop out of view immediately and, from the quiet sounds of it, scramble to get away. Vague regret befalls Bandit not for the first time: this half-baked plan might come to bite him in the arse eventually.

Oblivious to this distraction, Jäger curls into him and captures his lips in a sloppy kiss, and just for a moment, Bandit considers not getting up at all. Give ‘em a show, who cares – part of him wants to show off his boyfriend with his long limbs, the adorable little smiles, confident movements so unusual for him. And Jesus fucking Christ, not even twenty-four hours in Italy, and he’s already let its sappy atmosphere seep into his thoughts.

“Off”, he orders and slaps Jäger’s backside hard enough to leave a bright red mark. With a dissatisfied grumble, Jäger obliges and rolls off him, but not without reaching between Bandit’s legs and hell, he really doesn’t make anything easy, does he? There’s a brief scuffle accompanied by sleepy giggling on Jäger’s part and vanishing resistance on Bandit’s, and when he ends up pinning the other man down by the wrists, he still hasn’t won. Because Jäger beams up at him so unguardedly that it feels like a stab to the heart. He’s just, he’s just so -

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots movement once more and that’s it.

“I’ll be right back”, he promises and, despite being incredibly pissed, briefly sucks on Jäger’s neck for good measure just so his smile doesn’t fade before untangling their limbs and getting up. On the way out, he pulls on a t-shirt and underwear since he doesn’t feel like digging through their luggage for his sweatpants, takes one set of keys and leaves the house to face his delegation of idiots.

The five recruits have piled up outside the door, the majority visibly uncomfortable.

“Sorry for interrupting, chief”, the Irish lad, Shay, brightly addresses him and gets shushed by the others immediately before continuing much more quietly: “We just wanted to report back.”

“Did anything happen?”, Bandit asks and looks to the only competent one of the bunch, the Russian lurking in the back, always seeming uninterested yet no doubt watching like a hawk out of the corner of his eyes. Bandit probably likes Ivan Ivanovic the most as he has him largely figured out – he’s familiar with the cool façade of nonchalance hiding a sharp mind, while he never has any clue what’s going on in Shay’s, Jojo’s or Gian’s heads. Nor is he particularly curious. And Valenti reminds him too much of Blitz sometimes: an overachiever, someone who fancies himself a leader.

“They had romantic breakfast, so Gian called cops on them”, Ivan Ivanovic replies levelly.

Bandit waits a second to see if they’re joking, but Shay merely nods encouragingly and since he can’t lie for shit, they must be serious. He massages his temples and, to buy time in order to process this revelation, barks at Valenti and Jojo: “If either of you glances at my cock one more time, I’m going to shove it up your ass.”

Both gazes snap up in instant terror and both faces flush a satisfying crimson. Well. He could’ve phrased this better.

“To be quite frank, we were in a state of non-negligible panic”, Gian points out calmly. “An interruption seemed the necessary course of action, yet revealing our presence unwise, so I acted swiftly.”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway”, Jojo cuts in, sensing Bandit’s disbelief, “they turned out to know some of Maestro’s relatives, we think, so they had a pleasant chat and left and were none the wiser.”

“So let me get this straight – you made a false emergency call and are patting yourselves on the back now?”

Valenti opens his mouth to protest yet realises much too late that this is exactly what happened. His sheepish expression soothes some of Bandit’s anger, though it does nothing to improve the situation. “You did say we could use whatever means necessary”, Shay chimes in good-naturedly and Bandit belatedly understands how in the world these five usually land in these kinds of situations.

“Not only did you fucking violate the law, but you also ogled my boyfriend in order to tell me that ultimately nothing happened?”

They exchange uncertain glances until Valenti of all people attempts to appease him: “Well, we figured -”

“Fuck off. Don’t talk to me again unless it’s urgent, and if you miss me so much that you can’t bear living without me yelling at you, text me. Got it?” His razor sharp tone has them all nod and flee into different directions, leaving him to consider just aborting the entire mission.

But no. He has to get revenge.

The infuriating incompetence at least does have a positive side effect – he’s not only awake but also riled up enough to tongue punch Jäger into never-never land, and when he returns to a long body prettily stretched out on the bed, one hand wrapped around a very interested member, he only needs to grit out a turn around to spark a smile full of anticipation.

He still closes the curtains for good measure.

.

When it comes down to it, it’s Jäger’s fault. He fed Bandit genuine laughs, secretive grins and all the attention he could ever ask for whenever he let the other German in on a joke, and over time Bandit got used to it: shenanigans mean admiration, a few stolen kisses here and there, a re-telling both excited and exaggerated, and even pride. Jäger used to be proud of his innovations, all the creative ways in which he terrorised those around him. Therefore, when Bandit changes all of Blitz’ personalised ring tones to – as he finds – fitting alternatives and merely garners a crushing, accusing look together with a devastating sigh, his world view crumbles.

Admittedly, it did take Blitz an entire weekend to set up the system Bandit single-handed destroyed during two afternoons. Admittedly, most of the song choices were in poor taste and some of them genuinely offensive, but that doesn’t make them any less funny, does it? And admittedly, maybe, just maybe choosing Weird Al’s ‘Fat’ for Rook when the Frenchie only recently voiced wanting to lose a few pounds was a tad misguided. Especially when Blitz hadn’t noticed Bandit’s stunt and asked Rook to call him to locate his misplaced phone.

Well. Alright. Maybe he did deserve the tired look Jäger gave him.

But after that? No matter how hard he tried to impress him, how much of a menace he was, he never managed to regain Jäger’s favour. Instead, he got a talk.

Please stop, was the baseline. Don’t play pranks anymore. Focus on other, more constructive activities. Stop wasting all these resources on messing with people.

And so Bandit stopped. Not because Jäger told him, obviously, but without his partner in crime it just wasn’t fun anymore. It took most of his self-discipline not to tamper with Rook’s new shoes – heelies, of all things, it would’ve been child’s play to make him eat shit – and leave Mute’s new jammer prototype alone, despite him forgetting to lock it away one day. God, it could’ve been glorious. Bandit could’ve strapped it onto Diana and declare her a denial of service dog.

But no, he didn’t even want to mess around anymore anyway, and if he stretched towards Jäger’s resulting affection like a sunflower, it merely was a pleasant side effect. If only the others didn’t notice.

Smoke was the first. Out of boredom, he taped the kitchen door shut and texted Bandit about Monika having baked fresh brownies, then recorded him enthusiastically giving himself a black eye, and Bandit couldn’t retaliate. Because that night was going to be the fourth night in a row on which Jäger would pet his hair until he’s asleep which he’d never really done before, and Bandit wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.

Then Mute hacked his phone and literally every link led to fucking Rick Astley and every time Bandit typed ‘I’, his keyboard replaced it with the entire lyrics to the song, and Bandit still couldn’t take revenge because Jäger was in the middle of watching a series together with Bandit despite not being super into it, and he didn’t want to finish it alone.

And when a handful of others got wind of being immune to his wrath, it turned into hell. People openly approached him to criticise the way he led his team during a training exercise, and sure, he did a shite job due to acute laziness, but who does that? Others let him know they appreciated all the extra care he put in during their most recent mission and fucking Christ, if they don’t even stop shy of compliments, he might as well quit because what’s even left of him in that case? Horrifying.

Obviously, he keeps track of every misdeed. Just in case Jäger gets deployed for a few weeks, allowing him to punish all the wrongdoers. Even if he has the feeling he’d be too distracted to really make it count in that case.

But Sledge puts the cherry on top. One day, he pulls Bandit aside and says a few things which are inexcusable. Unforgivable. And thus, Bandit hatches a plan.

.

They have breakfast in a small café together with Smoke and Mute, both of whom immediately expressed the wish to tag along when Bandit mentioned his plans to go on a short holiday to the beautiful Western coast of Italy and who is he to turn down their company (especially when they potentially distract Jäger, allowing him some breathing room)? The Brits share the vacation house next to theirs and Bandit just hopes they didn’t notice the early morning commotion, but then again it seems as if Mute ensured they haven’t noticed much since their arrival.

“I’m going to eat fucking ten of these overpriced cardboard pastries”, he announces mid-chew and chases down the second half of Smoke’s cornetto with a sip of Jäger’s coffee before anyone can stop him.

“Babe”, Smoke tries to gently reason with him and earns a wild glare.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, not my fault they fold up the footpaths at night, I’m starving.” He gestures to the vaguely horrified-looking waiter to bring more sustenance and finishes Jäger’s latte in one go.

“If I’d stayed up all bloody night high on energy drinks I’d be starving too”, Smoke mutters with a helpless shake of the head which alright, that explains both Mute’s manic restlessness as well as the bags under Smoke’s eyes.

“Are you sure you should be getting more caffeine?”, Bandit wants to know dubiously and realises too late that the young lad’s gaze is worryingly unfocused.

“Huh?”, he makes and it’s obvious he hasn’t been following anyone’s conversation but his own so far. “Bloody hell, if this horrifically sweet stuff is all they eat for breakfast it’s no wonder Seamus is getting fat. I’ll ask whether they have bacon. They must have bacon. Right? Everyone has bacon. Or sausages at least. Fucking cold cuts, anything. Maybe there’s a salt shortage going on in Italy, though the people definitely had more than enough. Bacon.”

The other three stare after him as he makes a beeline towards the poor guy stuck serving them. “I would be salty, too, if some asshole insisted on New York style pizza being better than the original”, Smoke points out drily.

“Is he gonna be alright?” So far, Bandit has witnessed Mute on caffeine overdose (result: the attention span of a squirrel), sleep deprivation (result: endless ideas better suited for a mad scientist, particularly terrifying coming from someone who can actually implement most of them), and excessive hunger (result: an exceedingly sharp tongue plus an infinite supply of irritation), yet never all three together. He has to admit, it’s a sight to behold.

Smoke shrugs. “The crash is gonna be hilarious, no lie. He did tell me he hates energy drinks but didn’t specify why. Had I known, I would’ve put up more of a fight.”

Just as Mute returns triumphantly with an entire plate of fried eggs probably meant for all of them despite him making no move to share, Bandit notices that Jäger has been unusually quiet ever since they’ve left the house – and it’s even odder that he’s just watching Bandit with a small smile. Does he… does he know about his plan? Is he suspecting something? “What?”, Bandit asks defensively.

The smile widens. Uh oh. “Nothing. I’m just happy we’re here.”

Abort mission, abort mission. “Yeah, me too, and isn’t it a shame Elias and Julien have to rot at base without -”

“I was really surprised when you made the suggestion to come here, I would never have expected anything like this from you.”

“Well, we’re here now and we should make a list of everything that’s bad so we can annoy Maestro when we’re -”

“But it’s wonderful. The house is pretty, the beach is gorgeous and the town picturesque. It’s really romantic and I like it here. A lot.”

Bandit just laughs nervously. His face is on fire and he has to get out of this as soon as possible. Maybe he should split up the dumb recruits and have two of them watch him so he can give them a secret signal whenever a situation like this happens because holy shit, this is -

“Even so, you could’ve chosen any place and it would’ve been great, just because you’d be there. Thank you, Dom.”

He’s scarlet. Across the table, Mute is still stuck in the motion of salting his eggs while gaping at the two of them, unaware he’s created a veritable heap crowning one of the yolks by now. Jäger continues to smile at him and there’s no way he can bear another second of this. “I have to take a piss”, he declares loudly before fleeing to the men’s where he sits down on the lid, trying to will away the blood from his cheeks. Maybe coming here was a mistake after all.

To distract himself from the odd sensation in his stomach, he checks his phone and finds a message from Valenti: two lovebirds heading to the water, unsure how to interfere.

Alright. At least he can do something on this front. Once he’s cooled off a little, he returns to Mute nearly dunking half an egg into Smoke’s glass and Jäger observing them with a shit eating grin. “We should go to the beach afterwards”, he suggests and tries his best not to react to the hand straying to his thigh as soon as he’s sat down.

.

It wasn’t pickpocketing per se. Not really, because the odd object was half sticking out of Sledge’s trousers anyway, screaming to be taken. A rectangular box, while not too bulky, definitely not made for being carried around in front pockets for an entire day, and so Bandit merely… relieved the Scotsman of this burden. After all, he might’ve lost it otherwise and who knows how valuable it is. Better keep it safe for him than fill him with panic when he can’t find it and has to retrace his steps.

Bandit can’t deny it came at a pretty fucking opportune time seeing as he’d been obsessing about vengeance for Sledge’s uncalled-for insults, and so he nicked the velvety item without thinking and, as he hopes, without anyone noticing. For once, having to sit next to Sledge during meetings paid off. He’s patient for the rest of the day, carries his prize around without taking a proper look in case anyone catches him, yet when he opens it at home, he blanches.

Oh the possibilities.

For a few seconds, his mind is filled with delicious scenarios, one better than the other: replace the ring with one from a bubblegum dispenser. Replace it with bees. Add a noisemaker which produces a fart sound whenever the box is opened. Superglue it so it can’t be taken out. The more he thinks, the more absurd his ideas become: have it reduced in size. Engrave it with a random name. Coat it in a substance which dyes skin for weeks.

It’s a really tasteful ring. If he’s honest, it’s gorgeous. At the same time, he knows Maestro will flip the fuck out no matter what it looks like because it’s the act that counts, the intention.

Not only that, but Sledge is certain to inspect the entire box with extreme prejudice once he gets it back, and if he identifies any tampering, Bandit is dead meat.

“You dropped this yesterday”, he says the day after and hands the box back.

Sledge, as expected, examines it thoroughly before nodding – he doesn’t even hide it and alright, that’s fair. Given Bandit’s history of messing with him, he wouldn’t even bat an eye at Sledge sending it in to some lab. “Thanks”, he replies, and Bandit isn’t even offended at the astonishment in his voice. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Relationships really do turn most people into utter fools if Sledge deems it a fruitful idea to ask Bandit for his opinion. Fortunately, he’s very different. He’d never change himself just because of Jäger or fall into the trap of hopeless, helpless infatuation. He’s always in control. “It’d be way too small for me”, he shoots back, unimpressed, “but hey, you measured it, so I’m sure Maestro will love his new cock ring.”

The genuine laugh he gets in return tells him that Sledge really has it bad. “I’m planning to propose to him on our trip to Italy next month”, he foolishly divulges and Bandit’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh?”, he prompts politely. “Tell me more.”

.

If looks could kill, Bandit would’ve dropped dead the instant Sledge catches sight of him. He would’ve spontaneously combusted and his ashes been blown away by the wind, because the Scotsman must know instantly that he’s up to something, judging by how the sun itself darkens along with his mood. He’s stretched out on a towel on the beautiful fine-grained white sand, shielded from the harsh sunlight by a large parasol and ready to wring Bandit’s neck.

“What? How?”, Mute is still going on, not having recovered from this remarkable coincidence. “It’s impossible that we end up in the same vacation spot by pure chance!”

“Yes”, Sledge grits out. “Impossible.”

“Adriano recommended this place to us”, Smoke jumps in and Bandit owes him so many drinks, “and I thought you were gonna visit his family?” Some of Sledge’s suspicion fades, even if Jäger throws Bandit a curious glance. He still needs to be careful, so he keeps quiet.

“This… isn’t a set-up? You’re not up to anything?”, Sledge wants to know accusingly and Bandit just snorts.

“Of course not, as if I didn’t have anything better to do in my free time. Are you getting paranoid?”

Sledge looks like he has a few choice words to say, but when Maestro joins them, his attention snaps to him like metal to a magnet – not like Bandit could blame him, not with the Italian’s tan skin glistening all over and his dangerously short swimming trunks clinging to his body. Bandit takes note of this: should he ever need to divert the Scot’s attention, he merely needs to dump some water over his boyfriend.

“Amici miei! What a wonderful surprise, how great to see you!”, Maestro greets them warmly and smooches their cheeks, in the process getting all of them wet, and then turns to where Mute is chasing seagulls while screeching along with them. “What, uh, what happened with my cucciolo?”

“He’ll tire himself out”, Smoke assures him with a sigh.

“How do you like it here? I will show you everything! Isn’t it such a fortunate coincidence, cioccolatino?”

“Marvellous”, says Sledge.

“We can spend all our time together and I will teach you the most important phrases!”

And while the Scotsman looks like he bit into a lemon, Mute rushes over to detail all the sand castles he’ll build.

.

No more than five minutes later, the youngest Brit is already conked out and snoring softly on the very towel Sledge had occupied previously, and when he seems to be wholly unperturbed by the others talking around him, they set up their own beach equipment and share their experiences and impressions of Maestro’s home country. He seems genuinely delighted over their presence, unlike Sledge, and generously shares anecdotes about this particular holiday favourite. Normally, Bandit would rather chew off his own leg than allow the Italian to chew off his ear, but Jäger’s holding his hand and so he really has no other choice. Besides, his lover seems stoked over the opportunity to ask about everything local and his enthusiasm is contagious. At least a little bit.

Eventually, the group breaks up a little, with Sledge announcing his intention to go for a walk along the beach with Maestro, and Jäger urging Bandit to go swimming as well. He shoots Ivan Ivanovic a message about keeping an eye on the unlikely couple and interrupting them should the atmosphere become a little too amorous, and notices a text from Rook: the Frenchman seems to be making the most out of being stuck in Hereford and challenges the holidaymakers in a group chat to snap the best ‘out of context’ selfie they can. Attached is a peace-signing Rook in the foreground, with a half-naked Buck getting his chest hair shaved behind him, looking not at all amused with a doubled-over Valkyrie.

Half a minute later, Blitz contributes by sending a photo of him giving a cheery thumbs-up, while Rook in the background is apparently getting yelled at by a half-shaven Buck. Days since the last superglue accident: 0, Blitz adds.

Bandit, despite being highly entertained, silently vows to upstage him, upstage all of them really, even if he hasn’t figured out how yet.

“At least he’s prepared if he wants to compete with Meghan in the pool again”, Jäger comments good-naturedly, following the chat on his own phone. He turns around to photograph himself grinning while also capturing Smoke drawing a dick on his boyfriend’s unconscious body with sun cream. “You guys are cute”, he adds inexplicably.

Smoke takes one look at the drooling man haphazardly flung onto the fabric, shirt riding up enough to expose a canvas for him to abuse, and nods. “I’ve never loved another human being more”, he responds gravely and adds a few cum spurts shooting from the tip.

“Give the balls some hair too”, Jäger suggests sweetly before dragging Bandit off towards the splashing waves.

The hot sand burns their soles, so they awkwardly skip towards the sea, tackling each other once they’re largely submerged and nearly lose the beach ball they brought. Bandit supposes it’s a bad time to mention how he never really liked going on holiday, figures it’s usually more effort than it’s worth, and hanging around at the beach all day not having anything to do seems like a massive waste of time – but since his presence here has purpose and the cogs in his head never stop turning, it’s actually not that bad. He keeps one eye on the couple strolling along the beautiful shore, almost far enough away that he can’t see them anymore, and focuses the rest of his attention on Jäger.

Because dear God.

He belatedly understands Sledge’s distraction upon seeing his boyfriend emerge from the sea, cheeks rosy, rivulets running down exposed skin, playful smile plastered on his face and -

- and there’s an entire pack of dogs swarming Sledge and Maestro in the distance.

Bandit stares because what else is there to do? It looks as if all stray dogs from the region had assembled to circle the two, jump up and apparently try to slobber all over them, and while his brain is still trying to process the view, he gets thwacked in the head full force by the beach ball, losing his footing in the process.

He’s still coughing up salt water as Jäger drags him towards the sand, unsuccessfully trying to stifle his laughter and apologising simultaneously. He should be more upset, seeing as not only did the recruits choose one of the flashiest ways of bothering Sledge again, but also he’s got a headache now and his lungs are burning, he will probably end up with a nasty sunburn on his scalp as he refuses to wear any kind of hat, keeps stepping on sharp seashells, hates the way sun lotion feels on his skin and despises the taste of tangy water – but when they trip and fall, and his field of vision is filled with nothing but Jäger, and his lover smiles and quietly asks whether he needs CPR, and when there’s warm lips on his own cool ones, none of it really seems that dramatic.

.

Mute is awake and has aged by ten years as they return, but at least he seems to have mellowed out considerably – even though he doesn’t look at all amused with the jellyfish Smoke keeps lining up next to their shadowy spot. “Can someone tell him that sleeping for sixteen hours is a worthwhile activity?”, Mute sighs, massaging his temples.

“If I hadn’t sent you out to get some food, you wouldn’t have let me sleep last night either, babe. Stay up till evening and reset your sleep schedule.”

“I’ll reset your fucking schedule if you don’t stop with these stupid gelatine blobs. We’re not taking one home and that’s final.”

“Glad to see everyone else also enjoying their holiday!”, Jäger pipes up cheerfully while towelling himself dry. “But what happened to you two?”

Sledge, sipping what looks suspiciously like coffee instead of his usual tea, glances down at his scratched up legs, at Maestro’s paw print covered loafers as well as the general dirt smeared over them, and replies flatly: “We’ve gone to the dogs.”

“This has been a really odd trip so far”, Maestro adds, “the first evening we couldn’t turn off any of the lights in our house though they switched off by themselves some time during the night. Just this morning, we were approached by policemen about allegedly causing a disturbance even though I’m fairly sure we had the curtains closed the entire time -”

“He’s referring to the fact that he likes to sleep naked”, Sledge hastens to explain due to several pairs of eyebrows shooting up at this comment.

“Then someone threw a few Playboy magazines through the letter slot, and just now we became an irresistible attraction for the local wildlife.”

“It’s almost as if someone was up to something.”

And while the others continue discussing these odd and unfortunate turns of events, Bandit pretends he missed Sledge’s meaningful comment.

“I think I’ve got sunburn on my hands”, Smoke mutters to himself as Jäger and Maestro encourage each other to come up with the most complicated conspiracy theory which would explain all that’s happened to the happy couple, with Sledge merely shaking his head. “They’re pretty red.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your collection”, Mute prompts tiredly and indicates the shrivelling, dead creatures by Smoke’s feet.

“You see, most of them are just see-through slime, but this one is real pretty. Looks like an omelette almost, don’t you think, babe?”

Mute blinks slowly. “Go and buy some vinegar with Adriano, will you? Doesn’t matter what kind, and don’t ask.”

The suggestion makes most of them spring into action as Jäger was considering heading out for lunch anyway, yet he lingers when everyone but Mute and Bandit trail after a happily bubbling Maestro. “Don’t you think it’s weird that all these things happen to the two of them?”, he asks and it takes all of Bandit’s willpower and focus not to smirk. “You’re not up to anything, are you?”

“Of course not”, he promises as sincerely as decades of professional lying allow it, and sends his boyfriend off with a kiss to his nose.

Once he’s out of earshot, Mute mumbles: “You’re absolutely up to something, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am”, he scoffs and blames it on the energy drinks that it took Mute this long to realise.

“It’s a fucking fried egg jellyfish”, Mute explains without being prompted. “Nothing serious, but the bloody idiot is probably gonna feel it for a few days.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“And have him start early with asking me to piss on his hands? No thank you.”

.

~*~

.

“To be fair”, Valenti, the little fucker, tries to justify himself, “you didn’t say not to use perfume bombs.”

The effects of just 24 hours of Italian air are noticeable on the five recruits: Valenti has gotten even cockier than usual and revels in the warm weather, Shay has turned a lovely shade of lobster red, Jojo has bought a new wardrobe and, remarkably, looks just as fashionable as Maestro, Gian is distracted by everything and anything around him, visibly enjoying himself and writing novellas into his notebook, and even Ivan Ivanovic is smiling. If only Bandit himself felt the soothing touch of the country, he probably wouldn’t be this close to shaking some sense into the confident tiny Frenchman.

“You’re extremely lucky Seamus isn’t into crossdressing or any of that shite, because his soon-to-be fiancé smelling of several whorehouses at once caters pretty well to these fantasies and would’ve set him off, and then you’d have to keep two randy lovebirds apart and not just two sappy ones.”

“How do you know that’d happen?”, Jojo chimes up curiously.

The five of them are eating ice cream while sitting on the stone balustrade separating the promenade from the beach below and Bandit develops the sudden urge to toss the other German off it. “Look”, he starts and immediately gets interrupted by Shay smushing his face into his chocolate ice and Gian starting to giggle uncontrollably.

“The hell are you doing?”, Valenti wants to know, aghast, and rolls his eyes at Ivan’s reply: “I told him milk good for sunburn. Takes off heat.”

“I do feel much better already!”

Jojo grabs the cone out of the Irishman’s hand and sticks it against Shay’s forehead. “Shame you’re not called Shaun because now you’d be a uni-shaun.” Without any hesitation, he leans in and starts licking the ice cream off of Shay’s cheek, causing him to squeal and wield his damaged cone like a weapon and mere seconds later, they’re having a lightsaber fight in the middle of the fortunately empty street, with Valenti acting as referee.

Bandit’s earlier headache is starting to come back, and this time he’s sure it’s not related to heat stroke.

“Like children”, Ivan comments. He’s still got that smile on his face.

“Regardless of how we might achieve the goal you set for us”, Gian addresses Bandit, “our reward remains unclaimed. You’re confident you can procure it?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you what you want, provided you guys keep your end of the -” And then he’s cut off by a screaming Shay colliding with him full force, sending him stumbling and dangerously close to the low banister but not yet over – though when he tries to turn and yell, Jojo joins the dogpile and sends them flying.

.

Jäger looks fucking gorgeous when Bandit returns to their cottage, shorts and boots really hitting the spot and if he complains about having forgotten lighter shoes one more time, Bandit is going to show him just what he thinks of his outfit by having him keep it on as he blows both him and his mind. Thoughts like this one have become second nature and he’s still not entirely sure how.

“Don’t touch me, I need a shower”, he warns his lover before he can wrap around Bandit the way he usually does, no matter how long he’s been gone, “I’ve got sand everywhere, even up my arse crack.”

“What did you do?”

“Slipped and fell on the beach. And other people might’ve also slipped and fallen on me.”

“Odd. Seamus had ice cream tossed at him from inside a bush.”

“Huh. Did he find out by whom?”

“It was a thorn bush, so he stayed away from it.” Yikes. Bandit feels like his conscience shouldn’t be as clear as it is, but on the other hand he’s largely paying for their trip. So if he gets free entertainment out of it, he’s not going to complain. “Look, Elias and Julien sent another selfie.”

On screen, the happy couple is smooching in front of Echo sleeping on one of the workshop tables, with a variety of objects stacked on top of him in an impressive display of balancing skills. Next to him, Dokkaebi is showcasing a veritably demonic grin, much to Hibana’s concern. “Cute”, Bandit comments sarcastically yet it seems Jäger takes him at face value.

“Right? I still don’t understand why you kept gagging next to them when they were freshly together. They’re so good for each other.”

And he’s never understood how Jäger can support kitsch on four legs this openly. “This might come as a shock to you, but I’m not really the romantic type.”

The knowing smirk following his statement is what drives him away, ears burning, and it’s still adorning soft lips when Jäger joins him in the shower a few minutes later.

.

~*~

.

“Mutiny”, Bandit repeats after a grave-looking Jojo. “Are you taking the fucking piss?”

“We’ve spent almost three days of constant surveillance, spontaneous action, consistent communication as well as doing a remarkably good job, if I may say so”, Valenti jumps in, eager to support his mate, “and you’ve not met your end of the deal.”

They’re huddled behind the very stone balustrade which has painted Bandit’s back a hideous shade of yellowish-green due to an acute case of getting bodychecked over it, and he’s beginning to feel like a repeat performance is preferable over dealing with these numbskulls. “My end of the deal?”, he parrots in disbelief. “I’ve paid for your fucking vacation, you ungrateful little shits, and all you’ve done is ruin their holiday.”

“I wouldn’t go that far -”

“Well I fucking would. You nearly gave Seamus food poisoning, caused him to fall into the sea, harassed him with prank calls which weren’t even remotely funny -”

“Billy’s roadkill diner – you kill ‘em, we grill ‘em”, Shay interjects cheerily, earning a snort and an addition from Jojo: “You frag ‘em, we bag ‘em!”

“- and you even egged Maestro’s favourite shirt.”

“That was little funny”, Ivan Ivanovic butts in, and alright, the string of expletives exploding out of the hot-blooded Italian was admittedly hilarious, especially when even Sledge seemed genuinely scandalised over some of them.

Still, he’s understood by now that engaging any of the clowns leads to madness, so he simply keeps talking. “Besides, what the fuck do you want me to do about a Scot who flat out refuses to take off his shirt at the beach? I can hardly go and undress him, can I?”

“You could show creativity, like we have. Aren’t you supposed to be resourceful?”

If this had come from anyone but the Russian, Bandit might’ve slapped some sense into them, yet this gives him pause. “I mean – I tried, but he wouldn’t budge. Why is this so fucking important to you anyway, are you that bloody horny?”

Jojo looks ready to hold an entire speech as to why it’s crucial for mankind’s survival that they witness the buff Scotsman shed his shirt, but fortunately it’s Gian who speaks up instead: “I cannot help but feel your heart is not in this endeavour.” How fucking dare he. “You informed us of your wish to exert revenge, yet your glee has been muted, your undertakings half-hearted and your satisfaction with our actions astonishingly low.”

Bullshit. Bandit enjoyed watching the one guy suffer who usually throws wrenches into his plans, who reprimands him constantly and sabotages his pranks – it was extremely satisfying, he enjoyed it so much that he’d say it was the best part of his holiday so far.

…he would say that, wouldn’t he? And simultaneously know he’d be wrong.

Because his focus really wasn’t on Sledge, and with passed time it’s gotten harder and harder for Bandit to remind himself of why Sledge’s words stung so much. Why what he said sent Bandit into a white hot fit of rage.

Five pairs of eyes are staring at him expectantly. They might’ve gone about it arseways, but they did indeed accomplish what he asked of them, to the best of their capabilities. They even managed not to get caught, and while there’s no doubt someone is up to something, no one has been able to prove it was Bandit, even if Sledge, Smoke and Mute continuously side-eye him.

Maybe he should call the whole thing off after all and enjoy what’s left of his holiday.

“Give me a minute”, he asks and thankfully, all of them nod. When it comes down to it, they’ve proven reliable in the way a thunderstorm is – no way of telling when the next lightning strikes, but thunder always follows. Besides, now that they’ve overcome their terror of speaking with him, their natural banter reminds him of the familial atmosphere of his own team. Fuck. He’s starting not to mind them, even if they look like vaguely reverent meerkats staring up at him for any kind of signal as he paces back and forth next to them.

This is when he spots Sledge and Maestro, a short distance away from where Jäger, Smoke and Mute are building a proper sand fort: they’re holding hands, facing each other and seem to be deeply moved and fucking shite, it’s the perfect atmosphere with the gentle sea retreating in low tide behind them, the sun sliding lower and lower and flooding the beach in a warm, orange light. Sledge is gonna go down on one knee any second now and Bandit has no way of stopping them.

Shay must’ve noticed the horror in his expression as he peeks over the banister and immediately rips open Valenti’s backpack. “Code red”, he announces more professionally than he’s ever sounded in his entire career, stands up and -

And lobs a water balloon at the two lovebirds. A water balloon which bursts upon impact with Sledge’s broad chest, no doubt interrupting their little moment. A water balloon filled with neon yellow paint.

There’s a second of perfect silence.

Then Shay throws a second one.

In an impressive demonstration of his skills, Sledge catches it without it detonating in his hands and hurls it back full force, a detail the other four recruits quite obviously missed as they rise to get a better look, and when the second paint bomb explodes on the balustrade in front of them, literally all five end up coated in hot pink, with Bandit only suffering a light dose.

Well. That could’ve gone better. For another brief moment, the spattered recruits, Bandit, and the eye-wateringly yellow couple stare at each other.

“You fuckers”, Maestro then screams, and Sledge yells: “Dom, you little prick!” And the recruits and Bandit exchange a single glance before individually coming to the conclusion that an escape is in order. Especially when the two star-crossed lovers start running.

Shay shrieks like a little girl, Ivan takes a brief moment to wipe some of the paint off Valenti’s eyes with the inside of his shirt, and Jojo is already halfway down the street. Bandit is in great company. Gian nearly gets run over by a scooter and apologises in fluid Italian, Bandit slides over the hood of an expensive-looking car and leaves behind frankly hideous pink streaks, and Ivan seems to consider scaling the nearest building while Valenti is still coughing up paint. Shay trips and gets dragged along by Gian, and together the six of them scramble their way through the picturesque seaside town, garnering more than a few odd looks from the locals.

“Whose fucking idea was this?!”, Bandit wants to know and struggles to make it up the steep stairs to another busy road, though he does appreciate Ivan lending him a hand eventually.

“I didn’t think he’d catch it”, Valenti admits between breaths.

“He played fucking rugby, you moron!”

“May I suggest postponing this argument and instead focusing on the task at hand?”

“This colour actually suits you, Jojo, did you know?”

“Let us make left here, come on.”

“Jesus fucking Christ”, Bandit mumbles to himself though he can’t curse away the rush of endorphins in his system – he’s started to become complacent, and though Jäger will no doubt be disappointed in him, he’s missed this, the chaos, the knowledge of doing something forbidden, the guilty laughter bursting out of them now and then as they weave their way through alleys and between cars. He wastes no thought on what’s going to happen once they’ve successfully evaded their pursuers, right now he’s preoccupied with feeling the wind in his hair, jumping obstacles, running with the pack, rushing around corners and -

And apparently colliding with what feels like a brick wall. Something that doesn’t look like one though. Because it’s neon yellow.

“I will fucking castrate you and shove your own balls so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste them”, Maestro growls while Sledge causes another pile-up next to him by letting the recruits bounce off him easily.

It seems like this is it.

“How on earth are you so fast?”, Shay wants to know with wide eyes as the five of them take turns shoving each other to the front to face the Scotsman glaring daggers.

“Shouldn’t have let the one guy among you with no sense of direction lead”, Sledge explains. All eyes slide over to Jojo whose face starts matching the paint he’s covered in.

“Who’s the ringleader here?”, Maestro demands to know. All eyes slide back over to Bandit.

“It was a group effort?”, he tries.

“Will you let us live if we tell you?” Hell, he really should’ve gotten rid of this French gremlin sooner. A single nod from Sledge, and now five fingers are pointing at Bandit.

“Look”, he begins and gets interrupted by being slammed into the wall next to him, and it’ll be a miracle if the furious Italian lets him get away with mere bruises, though fortunately a hand on Maestro’s arm stops him.

“Adrianito. Let him go.” Sledge’s intervention is welcome yet Bandit’s relief short-lived when the two of them part to reveal the rest of their group: Mute and Smoke who are only missing popcorn, judging by the unadulterated amusement in their expressions – and Jäger.

A very unimpressed-looking Jäger. This is worse than a few bruises. He pushes to the front, brow raised and demeanour so calm it instils paralysing fear. For the first time ever since they came here, there’s not even a hint of a smile on his lips and it does unpleasant things to Bandit’s insides. He wasn’t meant to prank anyone, let alone follow Sledge and Maestro like this just to terrorise them. Whatever will come out of his lover’s mouth next is sure to be devastating.

“What were you doing?”, Jäger asks quietly. So far, so good. Around them, everyone seems to be holding their breath.

It’s the perfect opportunity. Seeing as Bandit won’t be able to interfere anymore after this, he could mention his plan off-handedly, complete his revenge by spoiling the surprise waiting in Sledge’s pocket. He can see it in Sledge’s eyes that he knows it too: a few words, and he’d be forced to show the ring, do it all on Bandit’s terms. He holds power over the Scot he never thought possible, and even if he doesn’t ruin his proposal right now, he could use it as an excellent source of blackmail later. The idea of Sledge having to do whatever he wants is more than enticing. “Annoying the hell out of him”, he replies, buying himself time. Sledge’s hazel eyes are boring into his.

Jäger just shakes his head a little. “And, what, were you planning on following them to his parent’s place too?”

Maestro senses his hesitation and though he hasn’t overcome his animosity, he doesn’t leave Bandit in the dark: “My mamma invited us for a family reunion. We’re leaving tomorrow morning and spending the rest of the week with my family.”

Oh. He didn’t know this, their plans must’ve changed since he talked to Sledge about their vacation. It’d be lovely. He pictures it, Sledge kneeling down, surrounded by Maestro’s relatives, all of them freaking out and cooing over them. It sounds heart-warming. And he could destroy it with a single sentence. If he doesn’t do it now, the two will be gone tomorrow and he’ll have missed his chance.

“Well”, he says. Jäger looks ready to cross his arms. “I hope you two have a great time.”

And Sledge gets it. His smile speaks volumes, he relaxes and even graces Bandit with a slight nod. Despite how much they clash the rest of the time, Bandit doesn’t want to do this to him, not like this. There are other methods he can employ without messing with Sledge’s love life and potentially ruin what could’ve been a wonderful memory.

Even so, he’s not out of the shite yet, there are still five recruits looking like they’re going to be gutted any second now, a seething Italian just waiting for his signal to rip them apart, and Jäger. So far, he’s not done one of his sighs. There is hope.

“Why did you do all this?”, he wants to know and Bandit realises something belatedly: namely just how truly fucked he is. Conveniently forgetting about this little detail, he pushed it to the back of his mind, merely holding on to his rage about Sledge’s words yet ignoring their content. His gaze snaps to Sledge and oh boy, how the tables have turned.

.

You’ve been behaving well recently, Sledge said to him that fateful day Bandit swore revenge at all costs. It’s Marius’ influence, isn’t it?

Bandit grumbled a little, waved him off, tried to change the topic but Sledge wasn’t having any of it: Have you told him you love him?

And fucking Christ, how presumptuous could any one person be? Not only wasn’t it his business, but also was he plain wrong. One fact Bandit had accepted long ago was that he cared about no one but himself. His life was littered with selfish decisions, no matter how much he tried to care, tried to hold on. Ultimately, the only one he ever protected was himself. He said something along those lines, unusually earnest with his nemesis, and felt more than just irritation rise in him when he received the response: Stop running from him and ask him to move in with you.

Preposterous. Frankly insulting. And Bandit silently vowed to have Sledge’s head for this.

.

“Oh well, who cares, just yell at me and let’s move on, alright?”, he hastens to change the topic and doesn’t miss Sledge’s grin amid everyone’s bewilderment.

Jäger doesn’t seem happy with this answer. “What do you mean? You can’t tell me there was no reason for you to pull this shite.”

“He pissed me off, I wanted revenge, here we are, now let’s stop dwelling on the past and -”

“What did you do?”, his boyfriend turns to the Scotsman in question, fuelling Bandit’s panic.

“Don’t ask him, he probably doesn’t even -”

“Be quiet. If you won’t give me an answer, Dom, let him.”

This is bad. Bandit’s and Sledge’s eyes meet and he’s well aware to be completely at his mercy – and he doesn’t harbour much hope, not after the past three days of constant torment, not after he very nearly spoiled their holiday. The recruits are holding their breath, neither of them fully aware of what’s going on but Bandit knows they treat the members of Rainbow like celebrities, so it must be exciting for them to witness drama like this up close. Smoke and Mute are following the conversation silently, gazes darting back and forth like in a tennis match, and Bandit wouldn’t be surprised if they’d placed bets on the outcome. Maestro has postponed his fury, though he’s clearly waiting for his time to lay into pretty much anyone involved.

Sledge seems to have made a decision and there’s no way in hell he’s not disclosing Bandit’s innermost thoughts to the world. He simply has to take this opportunity to humiliate him, uncover the secret he carries in his heart, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal it. He fixes Bandit with a level stare and says: “I insulted his bike.”

A beat.

Oh, thinks Bandit.

“You did what?!” And suddenly, Jäger’s composure has vanished. “How dare you! It’s a piece of art!”

Like a real trooper, Sledge keeps it up. “I called it a death trap waiting to happen and the decals juvenile.”

“Luce dei miei occhi, you can’t be serious!” Unbelievably, even Maestro looks offended. “It has fire, spirit, passion – that motorcycle has a soul, who are you to call it names!”

“I bet you’ve never even ridden it, it sounds like a large cat purring”, Smoke chimes in as well now, and all of a sudden, nearly everyone is directing their ire at Sledge who admittedly takes it like a champ. It’s a miracle. And Bandit instantly forgives him everything he’s ever done, from uncovering his candy related Ponzi scheme which not only involved Rainbow’s recruits but even spread to the SAS ones, to winning against him in hand to hand literally every time. He can’t believe it, merely gapes at the outrage directed at Sledge of all people and vows to try and never cross the Scot again.

Even so, there’s something he still has to do. “We need to talk”, he quietly informs the very upset Jäger and gently drags him a few steps away from the loudly arguing group, ignoring Mute’s encouraging about time! and Smoke’s meaningful wink. For some reason it seems that pretty much all people present know more about Bandit’s emotions than he does, and though he should find this fact concerning, his mind is currently trying to wrap around what he’s about to say. It’s been a while since this particular phrase has left his mouth, indubitably much too long. He doesn’t use it nearly enough and is painfully aware, so now’s his chance.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Jäger simply blinks at him. “What for?”

Now it’s Bandit’s turn to be gobsmacked. “Wha – for doing all this behind your back. For not listening to you. For almost ruining this holiday.”

His lover softens and shakes his head with a smile. “Dom. I knew you were up to something. I may be horribly in love, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind.” Bandit almost chokes on nothing. He what. “It was never about the stupid pranks, it was about them getting so elaborate that we spent less and less time together. I’m fine with you doing whatever as long as you pay enough attention to me. Which you have in the past days. I’m really happy with this vacation – and besides, you’re adorable when you’re shifty.”

Closing his mouth seems impossible at this point. “You – I’m -”

“We’re staying here for the rest of the week, right? So let’s make the most of it.”

The friendly, unguarded smile is killing him. Killing him. How can Jäger say – how can he stand there and just – it’s impossible, and his face is on fire yet again, and maybe, just maybe Sledge was spot on with what he said. He should stop running. For now, he merely nods, disarmed, and avoids Jäger’s much too intense gaze. There’s so much he still has to tell him, but it can wait. He doesn’t think there’ll be a shortage of romantic moments any time soon.

Looking towards the others, there’s at least one battle he can win. Maestro has switched to yelling at the poor recruits and doesn’t seem to notice anything else, so Bandit calls: “Seamus! Could you take your shirt off for me?”

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The selfie Bandit posts in the group a minute later has him and Jäger in the foreground, lips touching and both ears crimson, but the background is pandemonium. A neon yellow Maestro is giving the splattered recruits a well-deserved bollocking, though neither of the five seems to be listening – instead, they’re staring over Maestro’s shoulder, eyes wide and transfixed on a shirtless Sledge who seems ready to humour anyone (probably courtesy of the fact that Bandit will leave him alone from now on) and is flexing for their benefit as well as showing off suspicious scratch marks and bruises all over his chiselled torso. Next to him, Mute has donned Sledge’s paint-soaked shirt and dragged his fingers through the viscous liquid to write TWAT on the bandages around Smoke’s hands, both of them beaming into the camera while making obscene gestures.

Blitz’ reply summarises the scene quite aptly: wtf, he writes and adds a row of appropriately dumbstruck emoji. Are those our recruits??

You guys are cute, is Rook’s contribution and for once, Bandit wholeheartedly agrees. And while he holds on to Jäger’s slim form, ignoring the chaos next to them and grinning at his lover’s suggestion of involving him in future plans so they can kill two birds with one stone, he decides to let the recruits enjoy the rest of their holiday unbothered.

After all, everyone deserves a bit of peace and quiet now and then. And it just so happens that he’s currently embracing his own.

[girlswithp90s]

Hellsing Ultimate watches Hellsing Ultimate Abridged

Imagine that the Hellsing Organization has a rather inactive day. And during that rather inactive day, someone (I reckon it would be Pip) goes online and finds Team Four Star’s infamously legendary Hellsing Ultimate Abridged, and shows it to everyone else. This is how I believe our protagonists would react to it. 

Alucard

He’d have the worst reaction XD As in, he’d probably take it as a sort of mockery of him and everyone else. XD I mean, with his Abridged counterpart being...ya know, over-the-top and doing the most idiotic things to piss everyone off...let’s just say he’d be like that one friend whose getting teased relentlessly by their friends...and they’re not liking it one bit. 

Yeah. He’d be pretty butthurt about it--bitching about how his voice doesn’t sound like Abridged!Alucard, how he doesn’t go about killing like him, how he doesn’t act so damn stupid like him at all, etc., etc., etc. I imagine he was just a hairsbreadth away from shooting the laptop the animated monstrosity is playing on LOLZ. 

He legit wants to tease Walter so bad about the whole thing with Girlycard but can’t without possibly getting teased himself LOLZ XD

Also later on, he ends up stealing Pip’s laptop and looking up Adventure Time, then gets into the mercenary’s Netflix account, and watches the first 2-3 episodes. In other words, Adventure Time is fascinating LMAO

However, not that he’ll ever admit it, he does find a few of the quips Abridged!Alucard says pretty good. Anderson having an Irish accent in place of his actual Scottish one gives him another reason to hate the guy, lol. The poor guy can’t be around Seras and Pip without them bringing it up and mercilessly teasing him, and Integra won’t let him remove their heads from their bodies. XD 

Seras

She’d be pretty surprised at the distinct voice difference between her and her Abridged counterpart. And she’d be a little appalled at the lack of internal conflict of Abridged!Seras, but ultimately not surprised. Speaking of surprised, she finds herself laughing at the parody’s absurdity...a lot. 

But she’s not alone in that area. Pip is laughing right along with her in moments that are just terrible. Things that they face everyday that are no laughing matter. For example, Jan doing a double-take on Seras’s anti-tank rifle was worth a shared laugh. Also, most of the things that come out of her “master’s” mouth, stuff she knows she’s not supposed to laugh at, but does, in that way you know what's going on is messed up but it’s so absurd you have to laugh. Even when her actual master is giving her and her familiar the stink eye for it. LOL 

Alucard, admittedly, did let out a few laughs, but Seras knows better than to bring that up.

But the funniest part is she and everyone else can see Alucard doing a few of those stupid things, i.e., yelling, “Fuck the police” and tilting every single painting in the hallway, lol. (That becomes an inside joke amongst Pip and a few of the Wild Geese within the next couple of days XD)  

She finds a lot of her scenes really badass. Her demanding Zorin Blitz to say her name and declaring herself the Vampire Queen of Hellsing is her favorite moment. She doesn’t know how to feel about the “bitches love cannons” thing. 

Pip 

Pip’s the one that finds it. His reaction would be like anyone else who just finished the first episode: “WTF?! How did I get here?!” Heaven knows what made him decide to show it to everyone else in the Mansion.

He doesn’t really see much difference between himself and Abridged!Pip. But he can see himself coming up with running gag of one-liners. He and Seras actually try to come up with a few afterwards. :) 

But the majority of the time the two of them are watching it, they’re laughing at stuff they know they deal with are serious matters. Pip takes it just a little less to heart than Seras; it’s kinda just in the guy’s nature to smile in the face of danger, after all.  

He's pretty sure Walter has always been a supernatural being, and there’s nothing, not even the not-so-faithful butler’s story, that can convince him otherwise. 

Walter

I’m pretty sure he and Integra both are the only ones curious as to how the guys at TFS got all that footage, seeing as though all of that actually happened. (Alucard’s more concerned about who they are and putting bullets in their heads, XD) Overall, he’d have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, the Hellsing Organization is a top-secret organization and their actions are meant to be done in secrecy. (Or...at least they were...at least to some extent...) But on the other hand (not that he’s gonna say this out loud), but he has to give kudos to the guys for having a good sense of humor. 

Even though he’s seen and done some pretty horrifying things in his 70 years of life--even though in the back of his mind he knows Integra would never ask this of him--he never wants to “peel someone’s dick like a banana.” He can be sadistic and downright cruel (he certainly was at 14-15), but I can’t see him going down that route. 

Like Pip, he can’t see much difference between himself and Abridged!Walter. To him, the honestly most amusing bits were him attempting very obvious reverse psychology on “Alucard” and succeeding--with fairly obvious (knowing Alucard) results, and the conversation between him and Integra before he leaves her to escape. He actually wanted to laugh at that last one because it is sadly true (it was a good thing she’s a fast learner), but kept a poker face for her sake and Alucard’s. (Seras and Pip don’t help things. Giving them baleful looks and death glares only make Pip laugh harder.) 

Integra

Integra is in the same camp as Alucard; some reasons are the same, some reasons are a little different. She finds the entire thing to be incredibly juvenile and completely inaccurate. (Why would she ever have the need to send Alucard and Seras all the way to Japan?) She doesn’t find her Abridged counterpart to be fit to lead something like the Hellsing Organization. In fact, she finds her portrayal disgraceful. She initially believes the people responsible for making the parody are people from inside the Organization. But after doing her research, all the people making the parody turn out to be from America, and Hellsing doesn’t really have very many American employees, nor do those employees have any content posted to the Internet. Right now, she’s currently trying to figure out where the people behind Hellsing Ultimate Abridged are located so she can personally speak to them. 

(Ultimately, I don't know if she’d have them killed, because, technically, Millennium exposed what they were trying so hard to protect the people from, safety-wise and knowledge-wise. But then again, I could see her just thinking “They’re gonna DIE DIE DIE!!” after seeing it.) 

I imagine Pip would be forced to do a lot of extra housework and training after the whole thing is over. XD

Character analysis and the like is something I need to work on. I hope I got this somewhat accurate, yet I also hope I gave you some amusement. 

Also, how do you think the Hellsing fam would react? Was there something else you think one or more of the characters would say about it or do? Any and all thoughts (that aren’t hate speech) are welcome. :)

Thank you again, TeamFourStar, for the adventure, the laughs, and the references. May God and Her Majesty always be with you. :)

[bristolpusher-blog]

Rainbow Six: Siege and why I love it.

History of Siege:

Rainbow Six: Siege is a tactical FPS game developed and published by Ubisoft (more specifically Ubisoft Montreal) during December 1st. The game is currently approaching the end of its third year and has reached around 35,000,000 (35 million) players, but it didn't start this way.

Siege's official gameplay trailer was shown at E3 is vastly different to the game upon release. The game trailer shows tactical and long rounds requiring large amounts of communication with little room for error, stunning graphics and interactive animation between the hostage and other players. No operators were shown indicating that originaly everyone would be the games current operator "Recruit" but with their own special loadout and no abilities with customisation likely being very limited.

The trailer ends with a standoff between a defender and an attacker firing shots with no answer to who won the round (probably to show that both sides are infact balanced and have equal chance of winning). You could even take a helicopter landing onto the roof which is badass (And probably would've saved us from the spawn peak craze, but more on that later) but alas the game changed vastly at some point during production.

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(I can't really talk about the beta as not only do I think it's not really important to understanding the history of siege as it played almost identically to day one release but I also have never played the beta version of Siege, However I will link a video to a closed Alpha gameplay video)

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1st of December 2015: Rainbow Six: Siege is released to the world with 20 operators (and everyone's favourite: Recruit of course) these included: SAS: Thatcher, Sledge, Smoke, Mute. FBI: Ash, Thermite, Castle, Pulse. GIGN: Montange, Twitch, Rook, Doc Spetsnaz: Fuze, Glaz, Tachanka, Kapkan GSG9: IQ, Blitz, Jager, Bandit

Giving two from each to the attacks and defenders. (Attackers left, Defenders right) Your starting team depended on your colour. Orange was Defence and Blue was attack with the teams rotating roles each round while maintaining their colour.

But the operators were locked behind walls of money called Renown. Luckily however this didn't effect the game too hard as within literally one match you had your first operator in that division. But the prices rose if you wanted to buy an operator in the same grouping. So if I bought SAS Thatcher all SAS ops would be more expensive (Unless using R6 credits the in game paid currency). My first operator was GIGN Montange a shield operator and my last was GIGN Rook who ironically became my most played defender so I just wish I'd bought him earlier. Each operator has a unique ability which changes the playstyle with limited resources that cannot be reloaded even in the terrorist hunt game mode which gives you ammo boxes.

Here's a link to a video containing all operator guns, and abilities:

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A season pass system was also announced by Ubisoft the first being Operator Black ice giving us two Canadian operators: Frost and Buck and this is what I think makes Siege so unique from other tactical FPS. These operations unlocked cosmetic items, new weapon skins (Most noted is the black ice renowned for being the best skin in the game) here's a list by Ubisoft of all rewards for the pass.

The JTF-2 operators, Frost and Buck, the Navy SEALs operators, Valkyrie and Blackbeard, the BOPE operators, Caveira and Capitão, and the SAT operators, Echo and Hibana. 600 R6 credits, R6 icon charm, premium pass until December 1st 2016. However these operators were available to everybody if they purchased them with free renown they got from playing matches (Around 150 if you lose and around 300 if you win) these operators cost a large amount but its not impossible as I did it myself to unlock Capitao.

In July 2017 Alpha packs were introduced. These unlocked through a sort of roulette wheel at the end of a winning game. The pack (if landed on a white bar you built up by playing games) contained cosmetic headgear and weapon skins until this season where Jager received a legendary uniform in Legendary Alpha packs. These packs are blind luck and you never know what they contain until you open them. If you have the season pass the pack percentage gets a 0.30% boost and when losing it goes up by 1.5% and when winning 3%. (Of course not including the additional bonus for season passes) these can be bought for varying amounts if Renown

These season passes continue until this day with free content such as maps, cosmetics and operators being released. (8 a year) As of writing this Grim Skies (Year 3 Season 3) is ongoing and the game is definitely had a few bumps this season with the introduction of Clash who's nerf patch hasn't been released at the time of writing.

And now the siege history lesson ends and my opinion begins. I LOVE Siege. I play it basically every day and never seem to tire of this. But I don't think that's just because of me being some addicted fan boy. I think that the reason Siege has become so popular and developed such a massive community is because the huge comeback it had. It was originally a huge failure with players leaving in mass. Thousands of videos on youtube pointed out its massive flaws until instead of abandoning it... Ubi started work. Bug fixes, anti cheat, graphics improvement. You name it, if the community asked Ubi delivered and they still do to this day. Even refusing to change Tachanka despite his huge meme status as being terrible simply because fans love him that way even releasing a cosmetic bundle called "Lord Tachanka" a huge fucking meme amoungst the community that the devs love too which just shows how tight knit we are as a game. While they did take a while to do it during the big Hack period they fixed that for fans and announced they would do so even before the big Youtubers jumped in on it.

Ubi revived Siege. And I can never really express just how thankful I am for that in words. I love this game and I can't wait for the next season or the next game.

Gameplay:

Now it's time to talk about the gameplay Holy shit is this fun. When something goes well and your team just clicks you forget you're playing a game. You're a squad of 5 elite special forces soldiers who's training has lead to an unstoppable wall of fire as your tear through your enemy and it only gets better when the enemy does so too. The rush you feel when a 1v1 comes after a long gun fight is tense and nerve-wracking as you feel your whole team watching you or calling info on cams or drones (More on that later) winning is satisfying and losing is crushing but you still don't want to give up. Because you know that with the right team and the right strats you can wipe the floor with even the best of players.

Games tend to last around 15 minutes in casual with three rounds won being the win and up to 30+ in Ranked. Each round has a drone phase where little black RC drones race around the map looking for the objective while defenders quickly reinforce the room with defences such as metal wall reinforcments, barbed wire, deployable shields, nitro cells (C4 explosive) and your defenders personal gadget. You then have 4 minutes to either complete the objective as Attackers or wipe the enemy team and vice versa as defenders.

There are currently 18 maps in Siege such as, House, Oregan and Presidential Plane with another map planned next season. My personal favourite is Clubhouse.

On your gun you can add various attachments such as scopes, grips and compensators. But it's hard for me to talk about that since it's mainly personal preference I almost always use Reflex but most like the Acog scope. Here's a list of what attachments you should put on guns according to Varsity Gaming who you should check out for tips and info on actual mechanics such as damage drop off on guns.

This brings us nicely to spawn peaking. Since defenders spawn 45 seconds prior to Attackers and there's fixed spawns Defenders began opening windows to shoot people as they exited a spawn area most prominently Jager and Bandit. This resulted in their Acog scopes being removed and eventually all Acog scopes from all 2 speed and 3 speed defenders giving a large advantage on the Attackers side as in long range encounters the 2.5x zoom of an ACOG will help massively. Here's another link to a video which marks all things removed or nerfed to the current date. It's still a sensitive topic today as spawn peaking still exists but you're much more likely to miss someone or get killed yourself when you do it.

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10 years of content has been announced but people do still doubt it but personally I think it can be done. Considering we're about to enter year 4 and the game is only growing in popularity I see no reason why it's going to stop any time soon. Especially now its practically one of the biggest Esports perhaps only being outdone by League and Dota with Overwatch declining it its recent years.

Not to mention the huge profit they overturn in cosmetics Ubi made pro league and elite skins, the later of which unlocks special MVP animations when equipped and winning as the largest point scorer.

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How to Play the game

Now let's discus the gamemodes. You have Casual and Ranked with Custom matches and Terrorist hunt being less of a central focus and an offline Situations mode for beginners to practice.

Casual matches assign random spawns, random defence points and has a cap limit of 5 rounds with a winner being declared after someone reaches 3 otherwise resulting in a draw which effects nothing and gives bad rewards considering you just both basically won.

Ranked gives you a choice of spawns, defence points and caps at 9 rounds with a winner either being declared at 4-2> or having to go to a 5 after it reaches 4-3. After winning a defence location defenders who won may no longer use that defence point until it reaches the overtime tie breaker rounds of 4-3 onwards where everything resets basically. Drone and round times are the same however for both casual and Ranked if an objective is being complete such as Hostage being extracted, Defuser is being/ is planted or Securing objective/contesting then like casual the timer will never end until someone either leaves the room or dies. If a user leaves a ranked match their space is never filled nd they receive a ranked match ban for 15 minutes which increases each time and leave penalty

All game modes feature a DBNO (Down but not out stage) where you will be knocked to the floor and a large + icon surrounded by a white circle slowly being ticked away by a red line creeping across will appear. Your vision will be impaired and movement reduced to a crawl. You will produce a blood trail leading the enemy to you if you crawl away. You can press and hold to stop movement but hold the blood in giving you more time to wait for a teamate to come help you up. Any damage you take will probably kill you and all revives (except Docs stim pistol and Finkas adredinal surge) will get you back up on 50 health and must be done when right next you the only exception to these rules is Zofia and Doc who can get themselves up if Doc has a stim left and Zofia needs no help at all and after a brief 5 second animation can get up on 1 health and continue to fight.

Gamemodes in Ranked and Casual are:

Hostage: Hostage must be extracted from defence point and taken outside to a red flare where you will extract him/her and win you can as with teammates kill the hostage instead of the minus 100 points and ban (and an additional -100) for killing two teammates like you may expect you're hit with an instant -500 points and an almost certain ban if you're not careful. And since Renown is given based off of points this will likely screw you out of any renown if you lose the match and don't receive the +2000 points for winning.

In Secure area you must enter the room with the container automatically beginning to secure it simply by being in the room however. A loud siren goes off wherever an enemy enters with a large "Contested objective" appearing above the icon that goes through walls for both teams if a defender is inside and a "Securing..." if not.

On Bomb there are two sites near eachother [A] and [B] with Attackers having to enter the room and plant a single defuser given to one member at the start of the round taking 7ish seconds to plant and 40ish seconds to defuse the bomb entirely however the bomb defuser can be destroyed by the defence team by approaching it and holding the button to defuse with the same 7ish seconds needed to defuse however during this time the defuser still continues to tick down and can pass the threshold of defusing the bomb while a defender defuses resulting in an attacking victory.

All of these gamemodes are 5vs5

Terrorist Hunt:

Terrorist Hunt features a range of difficulties: Normal, Hard and Fucking impossible (Realistic). These missions can either be done alone or with a team. Depending on difficulty team friendly damage is reduced so I'd recommend Team play if you want a lot of renown for not very much work at all.

Situations:

These missions have fixed objectives and must be done alone in single player. After completing all situations that teach you how to play you may take part in Article 15. A difficult mission in a realistic difficulty where you and 4 others must defuse 2 bombs inside the map Bartlett University with heavily obscured vision in yellow clouds filling the map obscuring enemies and the bodies that liter the ground.

Custom Games:

These allow modifiers for a 5vs5 with friends or less even allowing you to explore the map alone. You can change health, timers such as increasing defuse time, drone time, match time and the amount of rounds. You can even turn on pro league settings to have a tournament with your friends.

Shop:

Siege has an in game shop where you can purchase the previously mentioned elite skins and various other items such as weapon skins, Pro league sets and weapon skins, charms and even the glorious Lord Tachanka sets.

Final thoughts and review:

Siege is in my opinion one of the greatest FPS games of all time. It has incredible fans, Gameplay is smooth and fun and most importantly tense. If I could play just one game with all of you then you'd know how big a difference one person can make each match, how much communication changes the game and how often friends tk each other for cheesy spiderman jokes.

I highly recommend you purchase it. Or play a free weekend. With a starter edition being so cheap right now especially when a sale comes on the only real reason to avoid the game would be the toxic team killers we have. But since the new tk ban changes I've been teamkilled only 12 times. 2 by friends, 7 accident and three being toxic players. That's not however saying it doesn't happen. But trust me. Your teammates will straight up slam the fucker who does it. I don't think I've ever been killed in a ranked match except by Mira mains who want their walls or accidents especially at the higher ranks. I hope this helped you either get a look into my perspective on Siege. Or perhaps convinced you to give it a chance or reinstall. Trust me. Give it a chance like I did and you'll never regret it.

Informative Siege Videos:

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Siege Youtubers:

And of course the best Siege Youtuber of all time:

(This is my channel. Subscribe if you want I only upload for fun which I'm pretty happy with)

[ateamforumsfanworks]

Lancer 103 - The Art of Basic Breaking (Part I)

11-22-2016, 01:43 AM Originally posted by Forum User: LaconicLeaf Last updated: 10-15-2017, 05:02 PM

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(Credit: Match-i for this drawing of my character)

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__________________________________________________ Table of Contents __________________________________________________  I. Introduction II. Build Suggestion (Pre-7th Slot)  III. Build Suggestion (Post-7th Slot)  IV. Monsters, Example Monster Sets, and Comparisons  V. Lancer Skills (Pre-5th Ring)  VI. Lancer Skills (Post-5th Ring)  VII. Basic Abilities  VIII. Lancer Procs  IX. Gameplay (PvE) - aka "How to Break the Basic Attack's Potential Open"  X. Weapon Proc and Skill Build Suggestion (PvE)  XI. Weapon Proc and Skill Build Suggestion (PvP)  XII. Apollo Set Blessing - yes or no?  XIII. Event Quests Walkthrough  XIV. "This is how you DON'T play Lancers"  XVI. Credits  XVII. DPS Scaling Data for Lancer Attacks

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Previous Guide Archives

Lancer Guide 2.0 (by Vostera) Lancer 101 (by Cobalt)

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__________________________________________________ I. Introduction __________________________________________________

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Lancers were once extremely overpowered during the pre-4th Ring days.

Forget about

Forget about

!

That's right.

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Believe it or not, even as a 190 AP (200 with passives) attack, Knight's Blitz once landed swift 2HKOs against the majority of the opposition, while Archers and Mages often got OHKOed. Nearly everyone built Lancers for pure offense, getting as high of an ATK stat as possible with maxed Weapon and Monster slots. The guild crystal didn't give any multipliers to a member's HP, thus KB had barely any counterplay. You could try using Guard, but Lancers can use Savage Sting to bait it, wait it out, and then slam you with KB. With the sheer firepower Lancers had, and how easy and brainless their playstyle seemed, it’s no wonder they were given the moniker, “Cancer Lancer.” When 4th Ring was announced, it was hyped that Lancers would be overpowered, all thanks to Dragon Crush, which has 190 AP and hits 3 targets. Furthermore, KB got its AP increased from 190 to 210 (220 with passives), and people were panicking that Lancers would be God Tier again (they actually were, but everyone switched to Soldier/Mage/Archer due to FoTM status). But as time passed on, Dragon Crush was actually a bad AoE skill, as its animation speed was slow, and Mage's Meteor Rain, a similar AoE but deals multihits like Meteor Strike, was much faster, on the same speed tier as KB and Basic Attack.

As a result, Glass Lancer builds started falling out of favor with higher level caps and crystal caps, the latter finally increasing the HP of guild members in combat. Thus, KB no longer landed 2HKOs, and while this was going on, the original Lancer guide author, Cobalt, ranted about stuff like Amaterasu coming out before Apollo, and "Why Lancers are the weakest class in the game,” on what was arguably the "Lancer Hate Era" (or the "Dark Age of Lancers," kinda like the "Dark Age of Sonic"). Threads suggesting to buff Lancers, and all kinds of random crap, with Lancers being underpowered and everything, were also being thrown about all over the forums. This was the time when Lancers were surrounded with crappy publicity, being kicked out of Event Quest parties for being "useless," and even kicked out of guilds to make room for Soldiers, Mages, or even Archers. But the dark days of 4th Ring have long passed. There were a few uncharted techniques and merits about Lancers which other players, like , were discovering even in 4th Ring, like the sheer single-blow damage of Knight's Blitz being able to pulverize the raw defenses of Soldiers and Clerics, and Break Thrust's proc-bypassing capabilities doing extremely well against defensive walls in PvP. Plus, Reo also shared the "Attack Stance Basic Attack Strategy," which greatly improved the efficiency of Lancers in PvE; use Stings to Break, then Basic Attack to DPS. This was a fighting style Reo never got a chance to use since he used a Cleric/Soldier cost distribution with a few weapons; this actually started my love for the Basic Attack as a timed and true attack skill. In hindsight, Lancers were probably the best class during the pre-5th Ring meta, but not for reasons you'd expect. They can bore through Soldier Frontlines with Break Thrust and Knight's Blitz, with the former ignoring procs (can decimate Clerics), and the latter having sheer firepower that DEF scaling cannot overcome (Mage and Archer attacks were easily tankable with enough raw defenses). Against Meteor Rain Mage Frontlines, if the Lancers used Guard, and a more tanky build, they can withstand their attacks while also being able to instantly burst down each target one at a time. Their Anti-Class, Archers, were non-existent in the Frontline because Soldiers can instantly cleave them with Dual Sword, and Archers can't do much to them back. Eventually, 5th Ring is another time where Lancers are at a strong point. They gain skills which take advantage of Break and turn it into an AP boost, which drastically improves the damage they can dish out. While the AS+Basic strategy is still viable, the new 5th Ring skills yielded a new playstyle for Lancers that is more accessible. This ring also brought about buffs for Double Sting, turn it from a useless cost dump, Heart-proc reliant skill to a Swiss Army Knife with good all-around utility and DPS, while greatly improving Lancer's PvP game with stronger skills like Severe Sting and Cross Assault. Even Break Thrust got some love, with a lower cooldown and added Break bonus to make it usable with Cross Assault to some extent. The 5th Ring release also expressed a "What Could Have Been" dichotomy: Dragon Crush got not only its cooldown timer halved, but also a buffed animation speed too. If that AoE HAD its Basic Attack/KB/Meteor Rain-tier animation speed, we would've had a completely different meta entirely in 4th Ring. Lancers would've been able to decimate Mage Frontlines with coordinated Dragon Crushes, and it would've still been Lancer meta like it was during 3rd Ring. Unlike Meteor Rain, the high base AP of Dragon Crush would've been able to pulverize Soldiers and Clerics; no amount of DEF can reliably reduce the damage Dragon Crush could do. While I may not be the highest GS Lancer, only about 210k as of the time this guide was published, but now 350k and counting, or the highest ATK Lancer, sitting around 75k - 80k (again, when the guide was published); now lingering around 120-135k, at least I understand the game mechanics quite well, and can carry PvE runs with reliable Break uptime, so for those of you out there... I hope you’ll at least learn something new about Lancers after reading this guide.

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Why SHOULD You Be A Lancer? (Pros)

+ Fastest attacks in the game

+ Second highest HP in the game, and the gap between a Lancer's HP and Soldier's HP is shorter than between an Archer's HP and a Cleric's/Mage's HP

+ High damage in each and every hit of their attacks, which makes raw DEF investment less effective, and deals great damage even while proc less

+ Adding to the above point, even Soldiers and Clerics take a sizable chunk of damage from Lancer attacks like Cross Assault. Since the latter has the same Max HP as a Mage, and Lancers can flat-out ignore their procs with Break Thrust, they can be considered the "Unofficial Anti-Cleric Class"

+ Absolutely dangerous after a Unison; since everyone freezes while a Unison clash completes, Lancers have the speed advantage. They can outright choose who to kill, since their attacks come out so quickly, if the enemy Clerics use Aid on the wrong player, they may as well kiss one of their teammates goodbye.

+ Anti-Class to Mages, a (former) common frontliner with their AoEs, and the AP damage mitigation further makes Lancers the best class to use against them; any Mage trying to drop rocks on your head will have to be extremely lucky with procs to even lay as much as a scratch on you; even Star Burst, which can potentially one-shot other classes, has a hard time killing you too

+ 5th Ring and ToJ skills are a massive boost to DPS, and allows Lancers to finally take advantage of Break for higher damage

+Negative Pressure can catch people off guard when least expected, can even win Colo games too; a metagame-defining skill that can turn Unison Battles in your favor, or even deny uni by erasing 2 Cheers' worth of meter

+ Can ignore shields and defense procs with Break Thrust (with a few exceptions)

+ Best class to inflict Break with

+ Flexible combo potential with skills, even if said skills don't explicitly have a combo effect with one another (like using Break Thrust with Cross Assault)

+ Break carries teams in quests with Unison upkeep and Defense Penetration, allows for earlier buff Unis, and carries United Offense and other boss content; can even allow people who died in Colo Round 2 without full Uni to have a chance to Uni in Round 3

+ The offensive class who is least likely to die from random monster reflect skills thanks to how Basic Attack doesn’t deal enough damage for a 50% reflect to bounce off lethal damage through Wards (and their animation speeds let them hit confirm BEFORE reflects apply)

+ Best user of the Basic Attack, which scales extremely well with just about every buff in the game due to its low cost and cooldown (you could even use it to humiliate others just by showing off how powerful the default attack is)

+ Thus, Basic Ability replacements are optional, and are more suited for PvP because the Basic Attack is just THAT good by default (although Deadly Blow admittedly comes VERY close to beating Basic Attack)

+ Extremely effective against Soldier Frontlines, as Cross Assault hits harder than Mage's Blood Oath despite Anti-Class, doesn't risk getting Reflect proc-killed, and has high HP to withstand multiple Rage Slashes; Negative Pressure can be a pain to them too, especially when coupled with Dissonance

+ 4th Ring skills (Break Thrust, Double Sting) are still viable in the current meta for their unique properties, unlike the other classes

+ Strong damage floor (All Rings)

.

Why Should You NOT Be A Lancer? (Cons)

- Low damage ceiling (Pre-5th Ring) when using non-Basic Attack skills

- Useful monsters by stats are generally limited to Fire, Water, and Haste elements; only two of these elements are useful for GvG unis. Farmable utility monster choices are poor (has to use Amaterasu or other off-element monsters for utilities).

- Even with high damage in single blows, Mages and Archers will still outdamage you (though 5th Ring made Lancers actually out-DPS Mages to some extent, or become rather equal to them)

- Apollo Set actually "nerfs" your Break rate due to the Proc Priority System mechanics, makes you more squishy due to sacrificing Main Slots

- Break Thrust has low base power, reliant on procs to deal real damage in PvP

- Null Damage effects (Unisons, Charisma, Null Physical Damage) and Guard still stuff Break Thrust

- Long cooldown times for certain skills; Smash moves from Soldiers out-DPS the Sting moves (until 5th Ring/ToJ)

- While I used to list "Secret XXLs being relevant today" as a "Pro," I'm gonna move them to the Cons because the new ToJ skills have high Break Bonus to the point where it's not really necessary to carry Savage Sting and Double Sting anymore. (Although Secret XXL does work out great if Double Sting is your only attack in PvP for your guild strategy, because Mastery-tier AP and proc rate is amazing)

- “Four Moveslot Syndrome” - Want Attack Stance? Take off EE or Mass Refresh/Balancing. Want Cross Assault? Take off Attack Stance. Want Negative Pressure? Cheer, Guard, or a second attack must go. (and so on)

- Basic Attack replacement weapons take off a high-DPS skill. As mentioned before, they're more suited for PvP, where burst damage is favored with Cleric heals being common. (Only Deadly Blow comes extremely close as a true upgrade)

- Due to having high raw ATK, a “Confused Attack” can potentially OHKO a Lancer or another player if they try using a buff/support skill while Confused (so please, think twice before deciding to EE out of boredom after you finish a quest while confused, or trying to Yolo Refresh)

- The buffs to Cleric's Aid skills for faster casting times actually make them the fastest skills in the game. They go so fast that they will land before a Lancer attack connects.

- Certain Event Quests (Wind Mobius, Eva Collab 1.0) have "Low HP, Low DEF, High Break Tolerance" mobs, which make Break builds less practical

- Death Pierce is useless, and a waste of a 5th Ring attack skill space.

- Anti-Class disadvantage to the current “OP Class” in the game -- Archers. Better hope you’re stacked with Magic Reflection or Magic Damage Down procs, so their Deadly Arabesque won’t OHKO...

.

Miscellaneous Issues

(4th Ring Issues)

- At one point, Lancers had a history of being stigmatized by others, being the bearer of several misconceptions, such as being called the "worst class," "why be a Lancer when you can play a Mage or Archer and do tons more damage," "if you're building tanky, be a Soldier instead," and what have you. (Thankfully, the vitriol has worn off, although Soldiers are arguably currently at the position where 4th Ring Lancers used to be)

- Many people think Lancers are THE "Damage Dealer class" given the class description, and complained about it on the forums due the description given by the game, using it as a crutch to prove their points (which was true... on like the Lv. 80 cap!)

- Even then, there's still some people who insist in Lancers being intended to be built Glass Cannon as an optimal build; this ill-advised build leaves Lancers with sub-30k MDEF, making them die to even proc less Meteor Rains.

Otherwise... Some player-related cons (it's the PLAYER'S problem, not the class):

- Class Passives encourage equipping Armor and Helm type gear to maximize your GS. However, this leaves you with low MDEF, and a small amount of Anti-Magic procs. (Unless they were all Reflection/Damage Down XLs, but that’s a different story)

- Players bringing the wrong abilities, like Thrusts, Dragon Assault, Dragon Crush, Death Pierce, or CURE (4-digit heals FTL), into Event Quests or Mobius

- In addition to the above point, Lancers who don't bring Attack Stance and just spam Sting, Savage Sting, and Knight's Blitz whenever they're off cooldown (the past equivalent of Severe Sting, Cross Assault, and Death Pierce) are guaranteed to keep asking for Haste at the beginning of a quest; these Lancers also tend to Break the wrong target too, and never use the Basic Attack

- Basic Attack is extremely under appreciated, and some players asked for more replacements for it (like replacing it for Cheer or Guard) when it's already OP as is

- Some players still tend to use Cross Assault incorrectly, oblivious to the fact that it has an AP Bonus damage effect while hitting Broken targets

- Lancers who don't take advantage of Break for their 5th Ring skills, or abuse AP Modifiers with the Basic Attack, will end up being out-DPSed by Soldiers

- While Lancers are least vulnerable to Reflect attacks, there’s still some players who Cross Assault or Knight’s Blitz head-first into a 50% Reflect target, and dying like a Mage or Archer that way

- Noobs thinking it's a great idea to use DRAGON ASSAULT, the absolute WORST move in the game *death glare*

- Complaints about Lancers being useless because they can’t SELF-HEAL unlike the others (by far the absolute MOST common complaint about Lancers)

- 5th Ring Sub Quest is SOLO Only! It’s difficult to beat this quest as a Lancer alone without dying. Thus, I highly recommend building a Cleric as a secondary class to make this Sub Quest a lot easier. Trust me, it pays off in cutting the amount of gems you would spend on reviving if you tried brute forcing your way through otherwise. (Though thankfully, stacking Water defense will help tank these mobs; this Sub Quest came before Elemental Defense was a thing)

.

Part II >>>

[mnovenia]

CHRISTMAS IN THE NETHERLANDS

Hooi! (dutch version of saying Hai)

Merry Christmas slash Happy Birthday Jesus! 

This year is obviously different. I used to be home on Christmas even my mom was still alive, but ever since I always spent it at Michelle’s infamous Chrismassy place. 

Still remember last year with each joy and difficulties, I was enjoying working at Asiatic, stressing about my application to Aarhus University, emailing many Indonesians who study abroad and procrastinating to meet up with Sam, etc. A year later (right now), such dream comes true. I didn’t imagine I will end up at this city by now.

Pheww, when I think about how will I spend my Christmas time in the Netherlands, probably I will say that I will be content by just staying at my room, enjoying the city, watching Netflix, that’s all. I had enough celebrations with classmates, homegroup, trip to Christmas Market at Koln, snowy Groningen Kerstmarkt, International Christmas, Jumat berjamaah and so on.

But God has a greater plan and always kindly gives me surprises. I enjoyed few last days of classes, I got 2 perfect score for SCM & ICL assignments (things are trully more beautiful if they are unexpected). So praise God, I never knew I’d nailed those two.

GOING TO GOES, ZEELAND

Few months back Kara & Jacco (friends from HMCC Kwc) asked if I want to come over and stay at their place. So I thought it’s a good idea to visit them during the Christmas time. I started to buy a cheap group tickets and miraculously found ones. Turned out that Kara said that Jacco’s family would like to have me over their family dinner. Deg! As an introvert, I felt like nervous, don’t know what to bring/say, just want to disappear like Lizzie McGuire cartoon version always does. But by God’s grace, I managed to face it anyway. I bought a nice & cheap wine (3eu, IKR, it’s so so cheap right here) at Albert Heijn, and useful gifts for Kara. 

It was a beautiful day, I dressed up & walked with my suitcase to bus station & travel all the way to Den Haag (where Jacco’s sister lives) by myself (so proud, never did it before). I transferred at Leiden and managed to arrive at Den Haag Holland Spoor. On the way I had plenty of time to reflect how wonderful it is to have a chance to live in a wealthy country, it doesn’t seem real somehow. I mesmerised the view outside of my train.

Arrived & successfully surprised a shout of ‘Goede Avond’ from the back of my head by the goofy Jacco. The three of us walked to the apartment, warmly greeted by Andreas, Leindert, Yakomin, Riana, and Mr & Mrs de Kok. It’s awkward at the beginning, they were all busy cooking, playing games, but by time I got occupied to talk to Jacco’s parent & the very friendly Leindert. We talk about work, business, my scholarship, my plan, etc. 

Till it was Kado Time, where Yakomin give everyone in the room their nice &  personal kado (surprisingly I got it too, ingin menangesss). The same thing with Jacco’s mom, she delivered kado for everyone including me. Then we took pictures, and off for dinner. Yakomin led us in prayer then we’re served with bloemensoep (sop bunga kol, yawlaaa so dutch beuds, even mreka minum pake gelas -_- ga ngerti lagi), then main dishes from Kara’s awesome kitchen, desserts of cake, ice cream & fruits, and wien and koffie/thee. In the table were full of jokes and stories, no phone (only 4 children were busily hanging around under the table) and it was simply a very memorable night for me. 

Seeing this family has restored my faith in Christ. Everywhere I go. To be honest I was bothered by the free life style of my friends here, I was trying to get used to it but God showed me AGAIN that He wants me to obey Him first. Godly family is not without problem, but their roots are Christ and it’s equal to Love that never ends. 

Then Jacco’s parents kindly drove us back to Goes (they all love to joke, and they make fun of me by saying that it will take 5hours, and I believed -_-’, c’mon how come 2 cities in this ‘large & wide’ country be reached by 5hours, LOLNESS), listening to PSV match, then arrived nicely at Kara & Jacco’s house.

They served me very nicely by indoor VERY AWESOME barbeque (perbaikan gizi anak rantau coy), nice bedroom & perfect heater, plenty of nice wine & snacks & games (Dutch blitz & Settler of Catans). I had a chance to visit their church, and on Christmas day, we brought me to go ice skating in the most beautiful Christmas Market at Middelburg, then treat me warm waffles, we went to KFC, visit Vlisingen beach & the awesome Orange Molen (windmill + told me the history behind it). After all, my heart is full, Kara also packed me soups & biskuits, gave me nice presents of chocolade & socks then we say goodbye at the station. God is gracious & led me safely to go back by perfect train, transferred in Rotterdam & right bus to go home safely. Thank you Lord for not only the greatest gift of Jesus Christ but also these lovely people you sent into my life. You answer my questions: DID I LIVE? DID I LOVE? DID I MATTER?

“The true light which gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him,” - John 1: 9-10

[waynekelton]

Best Sports Games for Android

There was a time when sports games on Android were very dull and boring. As time passed, the quality of these has improved dramatically. Mobile gaming now rivals consoles and PC. There is a plethora of sports games on Android. Each of them is brilliant in their own right. But we are here to talk about the best sports games for Android. We have compiled a list of 21 games in sports genre that we think are the best. We have ranked them based on graphics, gameplay and mechanics. Most of you will probably agree with the list, if you don’t, well everyone is entitled to their opinions.

Best Sports games for Android are listed below

21. Score! Hero

Most of the football fans would be familiar with this game. This game works on the least capable devices and is one of the most popular because of this reason. Score Hero is not like your traditional soccer games. The game lets you control 1 player and that too only during key plays during a match. You can score directly from corners very easily. If you are not familiar with the gameplay, I suggest that you install the game and check out for yourself.

20. EA Sports UFC

If you are more into combat sports, then this one is for you. EA Sports is a reputed name in the gaming industry, and their UFC game for consoles and PC is fantastic. This game lives up to the standard of its counterparts on other platforms. The game features over 70 fighters, you are free to choose and train any of them. You can instruct your player to level up and rise through the ranks of Ultimate Fighting Championship. This game has a few in-game purchases, but the overall playing experience is outstanding.

19. Stick Sports Games

Stick Sports offers a multitude of games ranging from Cricket to football to tennis. It would be unfair to the other games from Stick if we picked only one of them. So we have decided to club all the games together and add them to this list. Of all their games, Stick Cricket Super League is the most popular one. They offer a total of 9 games out of which 5 are Cricket based. Apart from Cricket, Stick Sports also offers 2 Tennis games and 1 football game. You should check them out. Stick is a newcomer when compared to the giants like EA. It can definitely give them a run for their money when it comes to best sports games for android.

18. Skateboard Party and snowboard party

These two franchises are developed by Maple Media LLC and are both very similar to each other. As the names suggest, the games involve skateboarding and snowboarding. Both these games come with customisable controls, multiplayer mode, customisable outfits and many other features. You will unlock new maps and upgrades along your journey in the game. Apart from the gameplay and graphics, the fans enjoyed the background music a lot.

17. Badminton 3D

It’s now every day that you come across a Badminton game. There are 3 different modes that you can choose from, the career mode, Badminton League, and Tournament mode. Published by Giraffe Games, Badminton 3D is very popular, having over 10 million downloads. Fans loved the gameplay, but many were disappointed in the lack of upgrades that are offered. Overall Badminton 3D has a lot of potential and could be made better.

16. Virtua Tennis Challenge

Virtua Tennis Challenge is a tennis game developed by SEGA games. It is one of the oldest games that are still currently active. It was launched in 2012. The fact that it is old is a disadvantage too. It lags behind when compared to newer games. On the plus side, Virtua Tennis Challenge features more than 50 players and 18 stadiums all over the world. Several modes are available like exhibition, multiplayer, and quick match.

15. MLB Homerun derby 19

This one is a baseball game as you would’ve probably guessed from the name. I know baseball is pretty much an alien sport to not just us Indians but everyone else except the Americans. Still, this is an excellent game and deserves to be on this list. The overall response for the game has been positive, but few fans were disappointed by the bugs and glitches. Also, there have been complaints about the in-game purchases.

14. Super hit baseball

Another Baseball game in the list, but this one deserves to be here too. Super Hit Baseball has been developed by Hothead games. The controls are better in Super Hit baseball, and a lot of features are also present. You can play with your friends or any other player around the world. League Mode and events like Homerun Derby and Eliminator are also available. This game might get hard as you play if you don’t upgrade your player.

13. 8 ball pool

This one needs no introduction. It is one of the most popular, if not the most popular game in the sports genre. Not only in sports, 8 ball pool is a big player in gaming in general. It is available on multiple platforms other than Android. Developed by the legendary Miniclip games, 8 ball pool is also a legend in itself. You can play with your friends or random players online and level up as you play more. If you haven’t played this yet, you need to install it now.

12. Badminton League

The 2nd badminton game in the list. This one is from Redfish games and is different from the previously mentioned Badminton 3D. This game is played from the sideways perspective in contrast to the overhead view of the earlier one. The graphics are a little better too. The game also offers a simple UI, multiple game modes easy controls. The exciting feature of this game is the cool stunts that you can do while smashing and whatnot.

11. world cricket championship lite

The next two entries are the different variants of the same game. This one is the lite version of World Cricket Championship, which is developed by Nextwave Multimedia. This lite version is made specifically for the players who have very basic devices. It will run on RAM as low as 512 MB. It comes in 9 languages of which 8 are native Indian. Multiple modes are available, including different types of tournaments and test matches.

10. World cricket championship 2 – wCC 2

This one is the main version of the World Cricket Championship. It is the most popular cricket game on Android with over 50 million downloads. The game is a fan favourite and offers many features like player and banner customisation. Multiple game modes including test, ODI, ashes, blitz tournament are available in both single and multiplayer options. You can try out your favourite cricket shots including the Helicopter, the Dil-scoop and the Uper-Cut. You need to play this game if you call yourself a cricket fan.

9. Archery master 3D

There are not many archery fans around here, but this game contradicts that fact. Archery Master 3D has over 100 million downloads on Android. This game offers a realistic archery experience featuring stunning graphics, amazing animations and simple controls. There are picturesque locations including Deadly Desert, Pine Forest, Archery Field, and Rain Forest. More than 100 levels are available. You can also play in multiplayer using online mode.

8. OK golf

This is one of the simplest games that I’ve ever played. OK Golf has a slogan “It’s not real golf, but it’s OK!”, and it fits perfectly. You just need to aim, drag and release to shoot the ball. The only downside is that you’ll have to pay ₹220 to play this. After that everything else is paid for. But let me assure you that it’ll be worth every penny you spend. You play this anytime, anywhere when you are bored. It will be a fun experience for you.

7. Real racing 3

Finally a racing game, and the best one for that matter. Developed by EA, Real Racing is a legendary name when it comes to racing games on the mobile platform. This game lives up to the reputation of its predecessors. The most exciting part is that it features formula one too. Real Racing 3 has 40 circuits and more than 250 cars. This is one of the most popular games of all time, with over 500 million downloads. If popularity was the criteria, then Real Racing is the best sports game for Android.

6. NBA Live: Mobile basketball

EA Sports is the biggest name when it comes to gaming, everyone knows that. This is another classic by EA. This is the most popular basketball game, with over 50 million downloads. You need an internet connection to play. The gaming experience is terrific, with brilliant graphics and gameplay. You can create your own squad or choose to compete in live events that are happening all over the world. Basketball is one of the most popular sports worldwide, especially in the US. Some fans have reported crash issues though.

5. madden nFL mobile Football

Another one from EA sports. I know there are not many NFL fans in India, but there’s nothing wrong in trying out new stuff. There is a reason why this game is in our top 5, it is because it deserves to be here. You can play the season mode and take your team to the Super Bowl. There is an ultimate face-off with the NFL MVP Patrick Mahomes. You can also play as NFL legends and unlock the Madden Masters. Even if you are totally unfamiliar with the sport, this is an excellent chance for you to get acquainted with the rules.

4. Grand mountain adventure

This is one of the most unexpected entries in the list. Grand Mountain Adventure is a skiing game and a very underrated one for that matter. With only over a half a million downloads, more people definitely need to check this beauty out. Those who have played it absolutely adore this game. It has simple controls and an easy user interface. The graphics are not the best, but the game is so much fun that you won’t even notice. You can go on to explore 5 different mountains and ski-lifts are also present for transportation.

3. fIFA mobile

This one is for the football fans out there. FIFA is one of the most popular games in the PC and consoles. And now it is gaining traction in the mobile gaming market. The gaming experience will obviously won’t be comparable to other platforms, but it does not disappoint. With the addition of the UEFA Champions League, things have become more attractive. You can build your ultimate team from players from any league. 1v1 mode is also available in case you want to play with a friend. It has been downloaded over 100 million times. Usually you would expect an EA Sports game to occupy the top spot in this list of Best Sports games for Android. But sadly, the best that they could do is 3. Check out the top 2.

2. tennis clash

Tennis Clash is the best Tennis game on the mobile platform. It is developed by Wildlife studios and has over 5 million downloads. You can play 1v1 multiplayer matches of 3 minutes. Career mode is also available. The game features 3D graphics that make the experience surreal. You can play in courts all over the world, including France, Great Britain, Australia and many more. You create your own character and customise his gear like rackets and shoes.

1. Super Stickman Golf 3

Super Stickman Golf 3 So this is the one we’ve all been waiting for. The best sports game for Android is Super Stickman Golf 3. Golf games are becoming increasingly popular on mobile platforms and this one also follows suit. Developed by Noodlecake Studios, SS Golf 3 is a bit different than the other golf games mentioned in the list. The game features more than 20 courses and 35 characters that you can choose from. This franchise is reputed in making golf games and SSG3 lives up to the reputation. Play it yourself, and you’ll understand why this game is at the top of the list.

Coming to a conclusion. These are our picks for the best sports games for Android. Do you agree? If not, let us know in the comments what changes would you make.

The post Best Sports Games for Android appeared first on GAMES INDIAN.

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[thorne93]

This isn’t Stockholm

Summary/Prompt: Imagine you got abducted with Claire, Marcia, and Casey in Split, but you’re not high schoolers - you’re grad students. Your area of study is Psychology with your focus on DID. Can you work with Kevin and all of his identities to survive?

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR SPLIT - if you haven’t seen the movie, and want to, don’t read this. Language, abduction, mental disorders, (if you watched Split, it’s all of the content in there).

Word Count: 5695

Notes: I saw Split the other day and was inspired. I am a psychology student so I loved the film and this is how I wish it would’ve ended, haha. If you haven’t seen it, this may be hard to follow what’s happening. beta’d by my best girl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you, Casey, Claire, and Marcia woke up, you had no idea what happened. You were in the car, when that man had gotten in and--did he spray you? Everything was so fuzzy right now. You sat up as Claire and Marcia gripped each other and Casey sat on the end of the cot you were on. You were closer to Casey than the other girls, but you were all friends none-the-less. It’s hard not to be when you share an apartment for grad school.

Terror was hard to swallow, but in this situation, panicking would get you nowhere. Thinking of all the things that could happen to you, you just pushed the fears down. After Marcia had wet herself to fend off your abductor, Claire had started to suggest to just attack him but Casey didn’t want to. They asked for your vote on the matter and you thought four against one were pretty good odds, but it still scared you regardless.

But the most...shocking moment was when you all heard the woman. The others started to scream for her help, but when she opened the door...it was your abductor, dressed in women’s clothing. At first, you didn’t understand and you couldn’t help the image of Psycho that ran through your head of Norman Bates running around in his mother’s clothing.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a motherly sort of voice. “I’ll talk to him. He listens to me. He’s not well. He knows what you’re here for, he’s not allowed to touch you. He knows that. Mmm-mm.” He shook his head-- or was it she? “Hmm?” he said as he glanced to each of you then left the room.

After that, the girls didn’t know what to think, but you knew. You began to understand.

A little later, he returned, dressed as the first man you’d met, the abductor with a dark button down and pants. He looked in the bathroom and mentioned it was unacceptable, but he was much less intense than you expected from him. It was almost as if he was simply requesting that you clean the bathroom. He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream, he didn’t seem impatient...He looked as if the disarray of the already spotless bathroom made him anxious. Did he have OCD? He told you all to clean it and said he’d color coded the cleaning supplies, then went on to explain that Patricia had reminded him that you’re sacred food. Patrica must be the identity you all met earlier.

You had sat up with Claire and Marcia, sitting behind Casey as she slept. Ideas, thoughts, and analysis ran in your brain. You couldn’t help it. This was going to be your career soon enough, to analyze and help people like your abductor, you couldn’t turn something like that off.

Suddenly, the door had opened and a new outfit was on your abductor. He was sitting in the doorway and told you his name was Hedwig, and that someone awful was coming for you.

Casey understood the situation and began to ask questions and you observed, naturally.

“How old are you?”

“Nine,” he answered proudly.

“You’re not the guy who took us?” Casey asked and you couldn’t help but observe his behavior. You’d seen one other case of this before during your internship but in circumstances like these...it was extraordinary.

“No,” he scoffed.

“And you’re not the lady?” Casey continued

“No. Are you blind?” he asked.

“Could you help us?”

“I’m not even supposed to be down here,” he said, shaking his head. “I stole the light from Mr. Dennis but he’ll be back real soon.”

“Dennis, is that the man who took us?” you said. It was the first words you’d spoken to him.

“Yeah, he’s real strong, etcetera,” he informed, his childlike behavior fascinating you. “See you!” he said before jumping up to close the door.

“Wait,” Casey begged. “We heard something.”

Your eyes darted to your best friend, wondering where she was taking this.

“We didn’t understand it at the time, but we do now. Do you know what we heard?” she asked as she got on the floor and sat cross-legged.

“What did you hear?” he questioned, curiosity in his eyes as they shifted to the girls on the other cot.

“Come here,” Casey offered. “I’ll whisper it to you.” Your eyes narrowed on her as your blood pressure spiked. She could do something to trigger another identity to take front and center stage, but you had to trust her.

“Okay.” He walked in a crouch toward Casey as you slightly moved closer to hear her.

“This guy...is coming for you,” she said and your blood boiled and yet it ran ice cold at the same time. If Hedwig felt threatened, Dennis could return, seeing as he seemed to be the dominant one so far.

“You’re a big fibber,” Hedwig responded.

“I never lie, Hedwig,” Casey said.

Casey and Hedwig continued to talk as Casey tried to convince him that this time they wanted a boy, not girls. He said that Miss Patricia wasn’t mad at him any more.

“Casey, that’s enough,” you chastised as you moved to the floor. The site of him being scared of the other identity was ripping you apart. Rather than scaring him, you wanted to make him trust you. “Hedwig,” you said sweetly, trying to get him to look at you. Finally, he looked away from Casey and turned to face you. “Hedwig, we won’t let them come after you. We’ll protect you. Okay?”

He gazed at you a second.

“How--how would you protect me?” he stammered.

“Well, you’d have to help us first. We would all need to get out of here, then you wouldn’t have to worry about Miss Patricia or Mr. Dennis. We would keep you safe, and happy, and we’d play. How does that sound?”

“Wait a minute. No, we can’t leave. It took forever to get this area safe. You can’t leave!” he said before he jumped up and shut the door.

“Why did you stop me?” Casey demanded as she turned back to you. “I was going to get us out.”

“By scaring a little boy?” you asked.

“Y/N, that’s not a little boy,” Claire said. “He’s just a man with some mental issues,” she reminded. “He is probably going to kill us.”

“I know, I’m aware, but right now we need to do everything we can to not set any of these personalities off. If we do, it’ll bring Dennis out or someone else much stronger. We need to continue to appeal to the gentler personalities.”

“Oh, do you want us to sing a lullaby to him?” Claire asked. You knew how scary and frustrating this must be so you didn’t fault her for being short.

“Claire, I know this is hard, but please trust me.”

“You know you don’t have your doctorate yet.”

“No, but my dissertation is on DID, so just...go with it okay?”

The girls nodded. Then Marcia reminded you all of the “making the room safe” comment. After searching, Claire found something metal under the drywall and using her heel, she began to pull out the drywall and found a grate as you, Marcia, and Casey tried to keep the door closed. Hedwig was on the other side of the door, asking to come in, pushing on the door. He was getting angrier by the second of being kept out of the room. You knew in a matter of seconds, Hedwig would give way to a dominant figure. Just as you predicted, right as Claire vanished into the vent, the door had no trouble opening and before you stood Dennis.

Shit.

Dennis went and found Claire while all of you paced. You thought of jumping into the vent as well, because he couldn’t catch all of you, right? But you knew you had a better chance of understanding him if you stayed.  When Dennis returned, he sealed the vent.

“You will not see your friend again,” he promised. “You will be kept separate.” He packed up his things then told Casey to take off her shirt, Marcia to take off her skirt, and told you to take off your jacket because they got dirty from the dust.

Fear no longer bothered you. What good would it do? The entire time you were in that room you were thinking of a way to get to Dennis and the other identities he may have. All you wanted to do was help him.

Eventually, Patricia made her reappearance as she came in and brushed Casey’s hair and became motherly. You complimented her outfit.

“Thank you, child. It’s just an old thing I put on. How are you enjoying your sandwich?” she asked.

“It’s delicious, thank you.”

“It has paprika,” she said as if it was a trade secret and you grinned at her.

She took you all to the kitchen and began to tell you fascinating facts while Casey and Marcia were arguing silently about whether or not to blitz attack her. You were begging Marcia not to but she was doing it anyway. Before you could stop her, she slammed her chair on Patricia’s back and ran. When she stood up and tried to go after her, Casey rammed the table toward her but she just moved it back.

“Go to your room. Shut the door,” she ordered at you two. You grabbed her hand without hesitation and ran to your room and shut the door.

“Marcia shouldn’t have done that,” you said as you paced. “We have to be understanding. We have to help him.”

“How? How can we help him?” she begged. “Come on, you of all of us should be able to get inside his head.”

You just stared at her. Casey was going to grad school for child studies, to work in child protective service. And Claire was going for Literature and Marcia was there for her Juris Doctorate. You knew she was right. Your experience in this field was the only hope of getting out alive...and helping Dennis.

You and Casey fell asleep on each cot, knowing that Marcia would be put somewhere separate. You woke up and Casey was still asleep but as you looked, you saw the door was open. You began to sit up when you felt it - the presence and weight of a leg over yours and an arm around your waist. Your mind whirred and you waited.

“That wasn’t nice what your friend said about Miss Patricia,” he said, and you knew it was Hedwig and breathed a sigh of relief. “You guys lied and scared me, etcetera.”

“I know, Hedwig, and I’m sorry. I would never lie to you or try to scare you.”

“She wears a lot of shirts, that’s what Mr. Dennis says,” he informed.

“Yes, she does.”

“I like the one she has now.”

“It’s pretty, huh?”

“Looks soft,” he said. “Do you know who Dennis and Miss Patricia are?”

“No. Why don’t you tell me about them? I’d like to get to know them,” you said and he rolled over and sat at your feet as you got up.

“Every one of us has to wait in a chair, and Barry, he decides who stands in the light. But Barry lost that power because of me. I can wish myself into the light any time I want. It’s a special power. Barry just has to keep sitting in that chair if I want him to. That’s why Dennis and Miss Patricia said I could be with them. They believe in the Beast and what he can do.”

“The Beast...Are you afraid of him?” you asked.

“No, they say he’s going to protect us, he’s going to take care of all of us. Then no one will laugh at me, at us, any more.”

A light shed on your understanding. The Beast was a new identity that would be the most dominant of all.

“Who laughs at you, Hedwig?” you questioned, concern in your voice. It pained you to see him go through this.

“Everyone, but Dennis and Miss Patricia, they promise that once we feed the Beast he can protect us, etcetera.”

“You know, Hedwig, I could protect you. All of you. I’d make sure no one ever laughed at you again.”

“You’d do that?” he asked, hope in his eyes and voice.

“Sure. Why not? No one deserves to be laughed at for being...different or extraordinary.”

“You think we’re special?” he questioned.

“Absolutely. Hedwig, when did you...when did you come into the light?”

“I came around when Kevin got it bad.”

“Kevin…?” He must be the original identity, the body.

“Yeah, he’s my friend. When his mom would yell at him, I’d come out and play.”

“I see. And where is Kevin now?”

“He’s in his chair, silly.”

“Right, right,” you said, you couldn’t help but grin. This was remarkable. This experience while scary, was something you could learn from. You could help Kevin and however many identities he had.

Casey woke up and asked what you were doing.

“I’m talking to Hedwig,” you informed as if it was obvious.

“Hedwig,” she started, her eyes flashing to you. “What do you do when you aren’t visiting us?”

“Oh, I have a cd player in my room, near my window. Kanye West is my main man. I dance to it, like this.” He proceeded to dance just as a child would and you couldn’t help the delighted fascination that crossed your heart and face. You were aware this situation was possibly fatal, but if you could just unlock the key to stopping this, you could help him and get everyone out. As far as you knew, Claire and Marcia were still alive and okay.

Casey proceeded to try and get Hedwig to take her to his room. After a minute he conceded and lead Casey and you to his room. All was well until Casey asked about the window and Hedwig caught on. She tried to redeem the situation and began playing with the walkie talkie that Hedwig stole from Dennis. She tried to call for help and while you wanted to stop her, to not betray Hedwig and yet again bring out Dennis, but simultaneously, your efforts so far had been null. When she slapped him though, you rushed over to help him, you couldn’t help it. You knew none of this was his fault and he just needed help.

“Hedwig, Hedwig! Are you okay?” you asked but he pushed you off and grabbed a bat and ran after Casey yelling.

“Hedwig, no!”

Casey continued to call for help and as they struggled, you saw the transformation happen. Hedwig faded as Patricia took the walkie and turned it off. She told you two to put your hands together in contrition. She told you two a poem as you walked to the room.

“I read that on a sympathy card in the supermarket. It was for funerals, but I thought it was beautiful.”

“It was,” you agreed.

“You know, you’re very kind to Hedwig, and me, why?” she asked once you got to the room.

“Because you’re a person, like me or Casey, you deserve to be talked to and treated with respect. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because if you were going to hurt us, you would’ve done it, but you’re patient.”

“Yes, well Dennis will explain the meaning of this evening,” she said with a slight smile then went out of the room, Casey spotted a screw, crept forward and grabbed it while you thought. What would you say? Could you do this? Could you say the right thing to the Dennis to get him to listen? He had OCD and an attraction to younger women. You thought hard. The Beast, that’s what they all kept talking about. To feed the Beast. Hedwig believed in this being and so did the adult figures, so it wasn’t a figment of the boy’s imagination, rather an identity that had either already emerged or he was about to.

Dennis returned. You knew this would be your only chance. He gave both of you a speech on the Beast and you dissected and analyzed every last one of his syllabus to pick up on something--anything that would help you. He was even withholding his urges for this higher being, by not asking Casey or you for any more of your clothing.

“It’s almost over,” he declared before you stepped forward.

“Wait, Dennis, please, wait. I want to talk,” you said, gathering all your courage.  He stopped and looked at you.

“About what?”

“The Beast. About you, Patricia, Hedwig...Kevin.”

“What about them?” he asked, his hard eyes on yours.

“When...when did you come into the light for the first time?” you questioned.

“Why?”

“I’d just like to get to know you better, that’s all.”

“I came into existence when Kevin needed someone stronger than the others. The others were merely distractions. He needs me.”

“Yes, he does,” you agreed. “But...then why does he need the Beast?”

“The Beast will protect us all, he’ll show Kevin and all the others how powerful we can truly be.”

You took several steps towards him quickly and he backed up. You slowly placed your hands on his arms.

“Don’t you see, you already are powerful?” you said. “You’ve accomplished so much for the Beast already. Tell me, why is the Beast going to start calling the shots?”

His eyes lingered on your touch before slowly drifting back up to your face.

“Because he’ll stop everyone from laughing at us. People will finally start to believe us.”

You bit your lip and stared him deep in the eyes. “Dennis, what if you let me protect you?”

“You? What can you possibly do that I can’t? I’m the strongest one Kevin has but when the Beast comes…” he let the idea hang in the air for all to interpret the magnitude the Beast would bring with it.

“I can help you. I think the Beast has manipulated you and the others. He isn’t a being to be trusted.”

“What makes you trustworthy?”

“Because I have vowed my life to helping people like you, Dennis.”

“Really?” he asked, as if you were lying.

“Really. Dennis, I want to help you. Please, let me. But you have to promise me that you and the others will team together to fight this Beast. He’s no good for you.”

“We need someone, someone strong,” he insisted.

“I am as strong as they come. I will fight with every fiber of my being to protect you and help you. You and all the others, you’re amazing. All of you have accomplished so much.”

His face changed suddenly. It softened.

“Amazing? You think we’re amazing?”

“I think you’re astounding. I’m in awe of you,” you informed. None of this was a lie. You really would do everything to help him.

“How do I know you aren’t going to betray me?”

You thought for a moment. You turned around to Casey and whispered, “Forgive me.” You lifted her shirt to expose her stomach - all of her self inflicted wounds for him to see. “See these? I’ve helped her overcome this. She’s been hurt and abused just like Kevin was, I’m sure. There had to be a reason he needed protectors and friends, right?” Casey stood there on display, as you continued to hold her shirt, pleading with your gaze for Dennis to understand. “Now do you trust me?” He didn’t say anything but stare at Casey’s body. You let go of her shirt, squeezed her shoulder, and went back to Dennis. “I will help you, and if you feel that I am failing you, you can let the Beast come forward into the light. How does that sound?” you asked.

“Sounds appealing. But...why would you do all this for us?”

“Because I care about you,” you breathed.

“Very well. I suppose we could...hold off his hunger a little while longer.”

“Yes, very good,” you answered, light coming into your voice and face as you continued to hold onto Dennis. “Does that mean you’ll let the others go?”

“Possibly.”

“I promise to help you get other girls should the Beast need to be fed,” you vowed. At this point you were going to tell him anything to just let them go.

“You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do that for all of you,” you breathed. “I would never hurt you.”

His next move was so swift it took you off guard. He suddenly kissed you, and you couldn’t help but return it. His hands were in your hair as he held your head firmly, kissing you hard. Somewhere, somehow, for however long you’d been down here, you cared deeply for your captor. You were well enough into your studies to know the signs of Stockholm Syndrome, this was not it. You cared for Kevin, Dennis, Hedwig, Patricia, Barry, and any others lurking in his mind.

The kiss wasn’t so much romantic for you, as it was a sign of your pledge and alliance to help him. Yet, you couldn’t deny the feeling you felt deep in your core when you were in his arms, the way his lips felt on yours.

When he broke the kiss, he held you at arm's length.

“You….you kissed me back,” he gasped, astonished as he gazed at you. “Do you love me?”

You smiled at him as you held his hand that had drifted to your face.

“Not yet, but in time, I may. I do care for you deeply.”

“No one….no one’s ever cared for me like this. Dr. Fletcher tries but…”

Your hand flitted to his face. “Shh, I understand. I know how lonely you must’ve been all these years. I know how hard it is to fight for the light. You don’t have to be afraid any more. I’m here. I’m going to help, alright?”

He nodded, looking pained.

“The only thing I ask is that you let the others go, and we can go find you help together. How does that sound?”

He hesitated.

“You do everything you do, to help Kevin, right? What Kevin needs now, is me. Not the Beast. I’ll only help if you do as I ask though.”

He nodded. “Alright. Let’s try your way.”

“Really?”

“I don’t see the harm.”

“Thank you,” you said as you kissed him again. You couldn’t help it. This was miraculous and this was technically your first patient, you were so thrilled to make a breakthrough, your emotions got the better of you in a rather unusual situation.

“We better get you out of here before we change our mind,” he said. He stepped aside as you grabbed Casey’s hand and led her out into the small room. Dennis stepped out before you and opened the door and led the way into the hall. He went to a door and opened it, inside was Claire, shirtless and lying on the floor.

“Claire?” Casey said as she rushed in and helped her up and out.

“What’s happening?”

“He’s letting us go. Come on.”

She came out into the hall and you moved onto the next door where Marcia was. He opened the door and you assisted her. He led the four of you out of the hallway that seemed to never end to a staircase that had exotic animals in them. You were in a zoo? You whispered to the girls to not run or hit him or attack him. They nodded weakly.

It was nighttime now, the air was chilly. You reached a gate and he led all of you out as all of you stood near a street.

“Dennis, can we take them to the hospital?” you asked as you turned to him while he locked the gate.

“I’ll call them a cab,” he said.

“That’s fine.”

“You’re not leaving are you?” he asked with a pained expression.

“No, Dennis, I’m staying right here with you,” you promised sweetly, looking at him with an endearing look.

“Y/N, are you crazy?” Claire asked. “You need medical attention.”

“I’ll get it in time, Claire. Just go to the hospital,” you insisted, staring into Dennis’ eyes.

He called the cab and within ten minutes it was there. You helped them in as Dennis stood away from the cab, near the gate. They piled in and begged you to come with them.

“What if he hurts you?” Marcia asked.

“He won’t. Please trust me. And please don’t tell them about him. Just say you woke up out here, okay?”

“Why are you trying to protect him?” Claire asked.

“Because she cares about him,” Casey informed quietly. You didn’t deny it, you merely looked to Claire and Marcia.

“I want to help him. Please?”

They nodded and you backed up to close the door as the cab headed to the hospital. You turned and walked to Dennis.

“Thank you for helping my friends like that. Now I can help you.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “Would you mind showing me the way to Dr. Fletcher?”

“It’s kind of late…”

“Please?”

“Very well.”

He offered his hand and you took it, walking hand in hand for several blocks. You finally arrived to an apartment at the top of the stairs. He knocked and after a minute, the door opened to expose an older woman in her night gown.

“Dennis?” she questioned. “Who is this?”

“Dr. may we come in?” you asked.

“Certainly.” She stepped aside and you went in and had Dennis sit as you and Dr. Fletcher talked in the other room.

“Dr. Fletcher, my name is Y/F/N, I go to the University and I’m getting my Ph.D in psychology,” you explained.

“How wonderful,” she complimented.

“Yes, and my dissertation is on DID.”

“Oh marvelous! But what does all this have to do with coming to me in the middle of the night? Has he done something?” Her eyes flashed to Dennis in the chair across the apartment.

“Yes and no. How many identities does he have?”

“23, possibly 24.”

You gasped. “Wow. I only knew about six of them. I’ve met Dennis, Patricia, and Hedwig. They’ve told me about Barry and Kevin.”

“I see.”

“He abducted me. Dennis did. Patricia and him held us.”

“Us? There are more of you?”

“Yes, my friends, but he let them go. I asked him to. He said he was going to feed the Beast. But I asked that he trust me to help him and we could fight the beast. I told him he didn’t need the Beast and that I would protect him.”

“That was very brave.”

“It was the right thing to do.” You twisted your hands around as you stood at her counter. “I think he needs help, soon. I’d like to...be a part of his progress though.”

“Are you sure? He was your captor…”

“I’m aware. Also, no this isn’t Stockholm.” Your eyes flickered to Dennis adjusting a bowl next to him. “I just...I care for him. Maybe I’m too invested because of the situation and I know it’d be highly unethical, but I want to help in his recovery from the Beast and make sure he never comes up.”

Dr. Fletcher stared at you as you stared at him. “You really want to help him, don’t you?”

“More than anything,” you breathed.

“I could let you sit in on sessions, if he permits it. But I think he won’t need them.”

“Why?” you questioned, your gaze returning to her.

“Why do you think he just let you all go if he was going to feed the Beast?”

“Because I told him to trust me. Full disclosure, I kissed him. But it’s not a trick.”

“I know. And now he does trust you. Dennis is the strongest one of the identities and he trusted you to not turn against him. Why do you think he developed the Beast?”

Your academic mind thought about  it. “Because the other identities were no longer enough to protect Kevin, or all of them for that matter, from ridicule.”

“Precisely. But now...he sees you as something stronger, a partner, a companion, someone who can really help him.”

You thought about it a moment, frowning. “He said no one had ever cared for him the way I had, except you. But he made it sound like even what you’ve done for him didn’t do it justice.”

“Then I think...as long as you stay by his side, support him, help him, he’ll not need the Beast. I believe you’ve replaced the need for a darker entity to come forward.”

“What if I fail him?”

“Come now, as doctors, we must never ask the question. Failure is not an option.”

“So you’ll help us then?” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“I don’t want to admit him, if you think the Beast isn’t going to come out.”

She thought for a moment.

“What do you think we should do?” you questioned with concern. So far, Dennis and Patricia were driven by the Beast but if he had vanished because of you, then you wanted to keep him out of a mental hospital. At the same time, could the Beast or threat of him return at any moment and they abduct again?

“I think, we should ask him what he would like to do.”

You two made your way back into the sitting area and she sat before Dennis as you stood beside her.

“Dennis, Y/N told me all about your situation. We want to help you and the others. What do you think would be the best thing for you now? We don’t want you to hurt anyone else, and we especially don’t want you to get hurt.”

Dennis glanced up to you then back to Dr. Fletcher. “I think I’d like it if Y/N stayed with me. She keeps the Beast quiet.”

“How do you mean stay with you?” Dr. Fletcher asked.

“I...I want her to be with me.”

“I could do that, Dennis,” you said stepping over and crouching and put your hand on his knee.

“You’d stay with me? With all of us?”

“Yes. I’ll still be in school, if that’s fine,” you said.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“You’re fine with this Dennis? How do you think the other’s will feel?” Dr. Fletcher asked.

“I think….they’ll be delighted to have Y/N watch over us,” he informed, looking down at you.

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

Two years had passed since that night. You had gotten your degree and license to practice therapy. Dr. Fletcher took you under her wing and you were like her daughter. She taught you everything she knew and got you a great job and even helped with some of your expenses.

As for Kevin, he came into the light and stayed there for the most part. Having you around made him feel safe, so no one felt the need to come forward except for Barry or Jade or Hedwig from time to time. You moved in immediately, to make sure the Beast was at bay. He continued his weekly sessions with Dr. Fletcher which he always let you sit in on. He encouraged your work and eventually, you fell in love with him. It only took a few months and you moved into a proper living space. You cared for him, watched over him, and as if it was inevitable, you fell for him. You loved all 23 identities he had in one way or another. As far as you could tell, they loved you back in the same way. Hedwig saw you as a friend and you saw him as a young companion, Barry was a friend, Jade became a best friend, Patricia only emerged once but treated you as if you were her daughter. Dennis very rarely made an appearance, but when he did, you staved off his unsavory sexual appetite for younger women with your own body.

Sex, love, the entire relationship was tricky, but Kevin’s personality seemed to prevail and you loved him most of all.

You became a strong advocate and fighting force for DID and other mental disorders in your field, holding conferences, speaking at Universities, writing articles and essays over it. You said being in love with a man who had such an extreme case of DID and the way you met and the way you helped him was proof that DID isn’t as evil or bad as everyone makes it out to be. You were young in your field and still had a lot to learn but with guidance from Dr. Fletcher and other colleagues who supported your work, you were making a good name for yourself and having Kevin as a shining example was wonderful.

Kevin and you had even started talking marriage, and even kids. Most people saw it as strange but in your eyes, you just had a giant family, all inside Kevin’s head, each member someone you loved.

You never left Kevin, or felt threatened by him, or wanted to leave. You wanted to be with him just as much as the day he let the girls go.

The girls and you kept in touch. They didn’t file charges as you had begged them not to. They graduated and were all healthy. They began working in their fields of choice. You got Casey the proper help she needed to cope with and get over her uncle’s abuse. Some sessions with you, since you were her friend, she trusted you. Other sessions with strangers that weren’t clouded by any relationship.

As far as the Beast was concerned, he was dead. None of the identities ever spoke of him again or even whispered about him. Like a fairy tale long forgotten.

What had turned out to be the most terrifying day for you and your friends, ended up being one of the happiest events of your life - for this wasn’t Stockholm, it was love.

[kuuxkat]

[EN]Lisani Vol. 27.1 Interview with Iida Riho

Translated by: @astralwinters and @kuuxkat​

Typeset by: @kuuxkat / QC by: @yujachachacha @ #teamonibe

Originally TL by: 凛樂@PTT

Sourced from: chip_17

Images from: @emitsunosaurus-rex

DO NOT USE THE SUBS FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES!

Contents under the Cut!

Typeset images can be found: here

[I thought it would be sad at first, but it was a refreshing feeling instead. Even though I felt like this, it seems like I have performed it fully.]

Q: So it's been about half a year since μ's Final Love Live, hasn’t it?

Rippi: Even though it's clearly only been half a year since then, it somehow feels like it happened way further back than that - almost as if it's been one, two years since the Final Love Live.

Q: During this time, have you ever tried to relive your experiences, like going back and listening to the songs, or rewatching the footage of your performances?

Rippi: I haven't been listening much to μ's songs recently. I'm not sure myself whether it's because I just don't want to listen to them, or that I couldn't bear to listen to them - put simply, even if the songs are available on the playlist, I wouldn't play them. Listening to any of the songs, though, would probably bring forth countless wonderful memories and dredge up all the emotions that come alongside them. Perhaps it's better for me to explain it as if the countless wonderful memories and powerful emotions were kept inside a treasure chest - to just casually open it up again whenever would never feel right to me.

Q: Winding back a little while further - when you first heard that you were going to have a live at the Tokyo Dome, how did you feel?

Rippi: At that moment I simply thought, "Awesome!" - but in hindsight, perhaps I had held the thought somewhere at the back of my mind, "There's bound to be a day that μ's will be standing atop such a stage, no?", or perhaps I held a goal in mind from the very start - to stand atop that kind of stage - and worked my hardest to that goal; I really can't say. So there was perhaps that part of me that also felt, "Yes, we've finally made it here!" (laughs).

Q: So from the very beginning, you were hoping to perform on such a big stage?

Rippi: Personally for me, it's better to bring the conversation back to when we had our μ's New Year Love Live! 2013. When we were on the stage of Tokyo Dome City Hall, I suddenly had the thought, "Perhaps, sometime in the future, we'll be able to stand on the stage of Tokyo Dome, huh?". And in the past when we appeared on one of the TV programmes, when we received a rather candid question - "What are your plans after this?", we gave a rather hurried reply, "We're gunning straight for the Dome!" in the last 5 seconds of the programme. After all this, not only were we theatrically featured in the Dome, we were actually able to step up to the stage of Tokyo Dome... The feeling of a strange coincidence, that was the premonition that I had within me.

Q: What was your practice like, leading up to your biggest stage performance ever - a marathon of a performance?

Rippi: Wow, this really brings back memories. Our priority was to train up on our stamina for the performance - in addition to stretching and progressive exercises as well as strength training at home, we even tried to cycle in the freezing cold winter days to the practice studio. Even though these were all measures that we had never taken before, we wanted to do this because we really wanted to give our all to our final hurrah, and to never leave behind even a shred of regret.

Q: In the rehearsals leading up to the performance, what kind of impression did you get when standing on the stage of Tokyo Dome?

Rippi: Overall it felt very spacious, and the ceiling was super high - you get a rather strong feeling of being surrounded. Saitama Super Arena was a more oblong-shaped venue, but the Dome gives you the impression that it's a more rounded stadium.

Q: On the official day of the performance, as expected, were you nervous?

Rippi: Until the last moment where we went on stage, I didn’t have a shred of nervousness at all. As there were 8 other inspiring comrades by my side, it couldn’t be helped that I was embracing an unlimited amount of expectations in my heart, right? When I was waiting for the time when we would be raised to the stage, I realized that my hands were shivering very strongly. I thought, “Ah, so I am nervous,” and felt that reality for the first time, but 5 seconds after appearing on stage, I immediately reverted to the state where I was fine again.

Q: How was the view from the stage on that day?

Rippi: It was extremely amazing - it was as if I was being surrounded from all sides by lights. Everyone's cheers rocked the entire place, and I was shaken not through the sounds in my ears, but somewhere deep inside my bones (laughs).

Q: From the very beginning the cheers were very energetic, weren’t they? So the tension of all the members rose greatly due to that, right?

Rippi: Of course, our happiness meter rose straight to its limits, and hit the climax, but the performance itself was surprisingly very calm. We were not caught unawares of our surroundings due to the excitement getting to our heads. Rather, we had the good sense to maintain the calm that we should have had, and continued the performance.

Q: Regardless of whether it is your expressions while facing the camera, or in your performances, we can see that you are in control - you give an impression of being very reliable.

Rippi: I think that is due to the process of going through so many practices, and mentally it feels different from where it was before. As I am harboring passion for it, I would be able to successfully resolve difficulties one after another.

[The feeling I had when I was in Tokyo Dome was that of a strange coincidence, and that was the premonition that I had within me]

Q: As you were immersed in the high tension, at the same time you would have been touched by the loneliness of “This is the final time”, right? What was the performance on the second day like?

Rippi: The second day dawned with the prickling sensation of my entire body aching from the soreness of my muscles, but I didn’t feel any particularly special emotions - everyone also appeared as normal as can be. It was to the extent that it made one doubt whether this was the final performance. But, as the performances neared its end, and when every member entered the flower-shaped stage after changing our outfits - in that space where no one else could see, where it was just the nine of us, everyone exchanged gazes and we all formed a circle with our hands interlinked. That was perhaps the first time that I felt that loneliness. The memory of that very instant, I will forever cherish as a precious memory deep inside my heart.

Q: After singing the final song [Bokutachi wa Hitotsu no Hikari], what about the time when you left the stage?

Rippi: At the time when we were exiting the stage, it was as if my vision suddenly became all encompassing, and in an instant I could see with full clarity the individual faces of the audience. There were those who looked overjoyed with happy smiles waving at us, and those who were crying uncontrollably. Regardless of who they were and what their expression was, I could see it clearly. It was an indescribable feeling. Even after we left the stage, we could still hear everyone singing, and could strongly feel everyone’s love. There was an instant when I thought about returning to the stage once more, but in my heart I understood that wouldn’t be right, so I could only continue on, leaving the stage.

Q: What was the situation like on the morning the day after the Live ended?

Rippi: I originally thought that it would be a morning filled with sadness and a feeling of emptiness. But surprisingly, it was one where I felt relaxed and happy. For me to have such feelings, it definitely is because I used all of my strength, and had completed my mission fully.

A period of six years spent worrying about Rin-chan and the growth of μ's, while at the same time working hard to chase them.

Q: We hope to bring you back to the activities that you’ve done for the past six years. Are there any periods or places that left you with very deep impressions?

Rippi: The setting of the first-ever recording was something that left a deep impression on me. Although the recording was done together with Pile-chan and Shika-chan (Kubo Yurika),as it was the first time that we ever met each other, the three of us were maintaining our silence, so we didn’t exchange a single word with each other (laughs).

Q: It was due to the many different recordings that the members gradually become familiar and got to know know each other better, right?

Rippi: That’s right. After that, it wasn’t just recordings, but there were also many songs that would have lines from the nine members; in order to gauge the length of time to record, the individuals who wrote those initial lines would have to have someone to recite all the lines in their designated timeframe. I think it was in [Kaguya no Shiro de Odoritai] and [Mermaid festa vol. 1]? As I was the first to do the recording, I mimicked everyone’s voices and said their lines, and as a result I got responses from them like, “You were able to mimic them really well!” (laughs). It set off a spirited discussion among the members, so it was small incidents like these that left me with very strong impressions.

Q: In the first performance in 2012 at Yokohama BLITZ, what were your feelings like as you welcomed the coming of the Live? The link and relationship between the First Live and the Animation PV is something that is inseparable, right?

Rippi: The memories of the days spent going through my college classes while taking dance classes at the same time are still fresh in my mind. As it was my first-ever experience having to remember the exact same steps in the animated sequence while having the nine of us dancing together, it carried with it a very vivid feeling of it being something totally new. Only, at that time I did not know a single thing about Rin-chan, and even now I’m still too embarrassed to revisit the initial CDs and DVDs. Although my inept performance with dancing was one of the problems, I had never ever considered the level of my synchronization between me and Rin-chan then, so perhaps that caused Rin-chan to appear odd at the initial phase? At that time, the person showed in front of everyone was the person Iida Riho. It is because I didn’t have the spirit of Rin-chan with me, so I guess going back over it would make me feel too embarrassed.

Q: In the script, Rin-chan has always been the one to push others forward, so she has the role of a character who is responsible for bridging the gap between people, right?

Rippi: Surprisingly she is a very serious child, but at the same time she doesn’t lose her cuteness. Internally, I harbor the thoughts of, “I wish to make her even cuter”, similar to that of a parent. It is because of this that I always wanted to let Rin-chan be exposed to the spotlight even more. And it was due to those reasons that there would be times where I couldn’t fully grasp this girl, so I would have an internal dilemma, floundering left and right.

Q: The situation is the same as the story: you were once troubled on how to express yourself too. In this journey, what was the opportunity that allowed you to shorten the distance between you and Rin-chan?

Rippi: It was actually quite late - I think it’s during the time of [Love wing bell]. The footage from the TV anime was great too. I fully felt the love that the staff had (for the project) as I performed.

Q: At the same time that the TV anime garnered popularity, the live concerts received more and more attention, and the venue would get larger and larger accordingly. What are your thoughts about this progression?

Rippi: This is literally coming from a third-person perspective, as in my heart I totally didn’t have a real grasp on the situation. “Eh, how could this group of individuals be so amazing, but speaking for real, the nine of them are indeed very cute, right?” - it’d feel somewhat like this (laughs).

Q: Do you mean that you observed the process by which they became renowned stars from an angle looking over them?

Rippi: Undoubtedly I myself was part of this too, but everyone would still have a part of their psyche that would be observing from the viewpoint of an onlooker, so thoughts similar to, “It feels like it has became something very incredible, right?” were repeated countless times. Even if we appeared on TV, and later saw the footage being aired at home, I still felt as if it was a group of individuals that I did not recognize who were dancing. It is an incredible feeling, and at the end, my feelings would be close to: “Because they wore the same outfits, so we would wear the same outfits”. Looking at μ's on TV or in magazines getting cuter and cuter, we were at the back chasing their shadows - I guess this was the state of mind that we had.

Q: In 2015, there was the Live at Saitama Super Arena, the movie version, the fan meeting tour, TV appearances and etc. In conclusion, it was a very busy year with very packed schedules. Is this one of the difficult points for all of you when chasing after the girls?

Rippi: The period between Music station to Kōhaku Uta Gassen was very short, and at that time it coincided with the practice period for Final Live, too. Everyone pulled out all the stops to manage it, so it felt like a large pile of things were swiftly dealt with in the wake of an amazing momentum.

The thing that directed me in the direction of my goal - that is what we call “Love Live!”

Q: As a member of μ's, for the six years that you spent together with this project “Love Live!”, how were those six years like for Iida-san?

Rippi: I guess it was six years that changed my entire life. When the project just started, I had just turned 18 years old. From entering college until graduation was encompassed within this six-year period, so at the time frame when the first season of the TV anime ended, originally I should have been starting to look for a job like an ordinary person (laughs). If I had left halfway to look for other jobs, perhaps right now I would be leading a totally different life. But as expected of this job, I do wish that I can always continue on with it. The culmination and alignment of a large amount of beneficial coincidences allowed me to walk down the path that I had always wished for internally, and then I too was able to spend the most precious stage of my life together with “Love Live!”.

Q: You can see too that the relationship between the members is a close one where you could always stimulate each other.

Rippi: The days that I could spend with them as part of my school life had influenced me deeply. I have a momentum where I want to absorb all of the other members into me, and I really learned many things from my comrades.

[Even now there are fans that love Rin-chan, and it totally doesn’t feel like Rin-chan is far away.] 

Q: If you can send a message to Rin-chan, what message would you choose?

Q: Even if the activities for μ's have stopped for the time being, the fans still love Rin-chan dearly, so it totally doesn’t feel like Rin-chan is far away from us. To date, with regards to the path that Rin-chan and the rest had taken, I myself feel that I am still chasing them from behind. In the past, when I was in a swirl of many events, there would always be a feeling of camaraderie formed like, “Let’s go forward together, all right?”. But now, even if I put her name down as [The Goal to Reach], that’s not wrong, either(laughs). “I want to try being a person just like Rin-chan” - so from a relationship of camaraderie to being a goal, I guess? Because Rin-chan is seemingly in front and calling out: “Hurry over, all right?”, so if I could pick a message, I guess I would say: “I’m going over now, Rin-chan, I’m going over to your side right now, you have to wait for me, all right?”

Q: Finally, please say some words to the fans.

Rippi: I am very happy to be able to be with everyone through this interview once again. Due to the broadcasted TV anime, it seems that there is still an endless stream of fans touring at the sites that we had appeared in. Looking at that lively image, it lets me sincerely feel that even if it’s after 20 years or 30 years, it’ll be great if μ's continues to be a precious treasure in everyone’s heart. After a period of time passes, I do wish to go on the same tour too (laughs). Even after 10 years have passed, if I could still remain as the Iida Riho who is part of μ's, and be the Iida Riho who voices Hoshizora Rin, that would be great. If everyone could remember this in occasion, I would be very happy.

[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.

[kiruuuuu]

Blitz/Spectre oneshot in which she and Blitz get a little closer. (Rating T, fluff, ~2.5k words) - written for @ruaniamh​! Thank you again for commissioning me and I’m glad you’re happy with this piece ♥♥ You can find out all about Quinn “Spectre” Roach here! My commission info is over here :) 

.

In a – as Spectre finds – deliciously ironic twist of fate, Blitz fails to react to her approaching due to the blinding light of the afternoon sun.

She’s crouched behind the low wall marking the beginning of the bridge’s balustrade and waiting for her next victim: Mira’s heavy boots gave her away earlier and allowed the Canadian to catch her off-guard, and even Smoke’s lighter steps proved insufficient as Spectre swiftly climbed a tree when she caught a glimpse of him nearing her position. She’s keen on racking up a few more ‘kills’, her competitive spirit awakened by Bandit’s boisterous claims of ending up as the winner and nurtured by the crisp October air.

Ultimately, it’s a child’s game they’re playing, a more advanced tag – they were all given a piece of fabric and told to tuck it into their trousers’ waistbands on their backs, a little like a bright red tail now trailing after them and marking them as potential targets. If someone manages to snatch it from someone else for safekeeping, that someone is out and has to return to base and whoever has collected the most pieces at the end wins. Simple enough, though Sledge claimed it’d serve to test their senses and spatial awareness, challenge their manoeuvring skills and showcase how well they work on their own for once. Spectre, however, suspects that the mild temperature and unimpeded sunshine played a not insignificant role in this decision to allow Rainbow to roam the fields outside of the base freely.

In any case, she’s not complaining, instead she relishes the fresh air and warming rays on her skin, has always liked this mixture as it keeps her focused and cheerful whereas the sweltering summer sun often leaves her content yet tired. Proof of this are the four stripes of cloth in her pocket, courtesy of a lot of stalking around and observing carefully. Some of the others declined the opportunity to swarm out in order to find a suitable starting spot away from everyone else, and instead tackled each other head on right outside the gate like children playing football for the very first time, all clumped up and shouting. Spectre managed to grab Maestro’s fabric before he even joined the fray and was already halfway over the hill before he noticed her demonic cackling was directed at him.

Right now, she’s listening to the gurgling of the small stream next to her and to footfalls probably wishing they were quieter. A quick peek lets her catch a glance of fair hair, golden in this light, sharp cheekbones, a compact silhouette – she doesn’t need more than a fraction of a second to be sure of who it is. She’d recognise him by the sound of his laugh, the adorable cow lick on the back of his head, the unusually shaped birth mark on his wrist.

Don’t turn around, she instructs him silently and almost kicks herself for doing so. They might be impressively in tune for most of the time, but they haven’t figured out telepathy yet. Slowly, she creeps around the solid stone railing, follows him as he steps down the river bank, probably to check for anyone below the bridge. Anticipation is making her giddy, she’s looking forward to the dumb expression on his face when he’ll realise what’s happened, and so she makes a mistake, produces a noise, causes him to turn around. But the sun saves her.

In the moment of confusion, the second he blinks and squints, she shoots up and reaches around him to get a hold of her prize, yet the sudden movement makes her lose her footing and crash into the solid body; now they’re both flailing (and was that a squeak from Blitz?), an arm wraps around her waist to regain balance where she has none to give – and the next thing she knows is the horizon tilting and ice cold water enveloping both of them.

.

“Of all the things I wanted to achieve today, a bath in the river was not among them”, Blitz chides jokingly as soon as he’s emerged from the dressing room wearing his spare clothes and a grin which tells Spectre that he doesn’t mind. His hair is sticking up in all twenty cardinal directions simultaneously and she ponders whether to comment on it, eventually deciding against it. She doesn’t want to seem like she’s paying too much attention to his appearance.

“Not like you couldn’t use one”, she shoots back good-naturedly while they make their way towards a well-deserved lunch break.

“What, are you referring to the information retrieval again?”

“You call it intelligence gathering, I call it dumpster diving. Now which of these is a euphemism, hm? Didn’t you have to wade through sewage in Sevilla too?”

“I’ll have you know that both of those missions ended up successful and not everyone can be as limber as you. You probably would’ve climbed along the walls like a spider instead of stepping into that muck.”

Their playful back-and-forth is as familiar as it is comfortable, one of the constants in Spectre’s everyday life she looks forward to the most. Both of them enjoy poking fun at anything and everything, including themselves and each other – which is one of the reasons why they became fast friends. A sunny disposition in their job isn’t that common, usually it entails a much darker, morbid kind of humour. “I definitely wouldn’t have used an entire can of Lynx to get rid of the smell at least. That’s one way to keep the ladies off of you.”

As soon as the comment has left her mouth, she once again feels the impulse to kick herself. Because while Blitz laughs, it sounds oddly hollow to her ears. She shouldn’t have gone there, she knows he’s been wanting someone by his side for a while. She knows he even has someone in mind, overheard Jäger mention it to someone else. Felt strangely betrayed that Blitz would entrust him with this detail and not her, felt a stab of jealousy because who does Blitz call in the early morning after a bad dream? Whom does he send drunk texts which are as illegible as they are hilarious? Not Jäger, that’s for sure. She knows he doesn’t message anyone else, he never does so when they’re out together. She would like to see herself as his best friend but after that she’s had her doubts. If he kept this from her, what else did he keep?

Going down this path is futile and depressing, so she does her best to snap out of it but it takes a few minutes until her smile stops hurting.

A hiss is what finally distracts her mid-chew: “You are a fucking cat, young lady!”

Both she and Blitz snort at Mira’s accusation. “Did she sneak up on you too?”, he asks, amused.

“Please tell me who eliminated you so I can thank them for avenging my honour. You gave me the worst fright I’ve had in a while.”

While Spectre just grins proudly, the German opposite her replies: “More on accident, but we got each other.”

Mira lifts a brow and suddenly, it’s imperative Spectre doesn’t blush so she doesn’t give herself away. All the jokes and questioning glances whenever they playfight or feed each other unhealthy food to create the most disgusting combination are more than enough already. Still. It sounds nice: we got each other. “Is that why you’re looking like a drowned rat?”

“Watch out or you might hit someone in the face with all that charm you’re throwing around”, Spectre grins. Her mauve hair is still damp and probably hanging down sadly, so Mira might not actually be far from the truth – but she finds that she doesn’t mind, no, not at all. She can still feel Blitz’ loose embrace, hears his laughter bubbling up as they dragged themselves out of the stream, shaking the water off like a pair of dogs.

The Spaniard leaves them to their meals, still mock-grumbling, but gets replaced by Jäger immediately. “Can I interrupt you guys for a moment?”, he asks and Spectre idly wonders whether there’ll ever be anything he’d interrupt.

“I don’t know, can you?”, she replies and fights down a giggle when she realises Blitz just uttered exactly the same thing. They exchange a glance and a grin when he lightly kicks her under the table.

For a moment, she’s worried Jäger is going to hurt himself with how dramatically his eyes roll skywards. “Bunch of nerds”, he mutters. “All I wanted to know is whether you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“Of course! Tomorrow is a very special day.”

Blitz’ answer comes so fast that Spectre’s heart skips a beat. Did he – did he remember? She let it slip before, more than half a year ago, didn’t think he paid it any heed, didn’t think he’d care enough. He’s awful with remembering dates, only remembers Sledge’s birthday because it’s the same as his own, and his friends usually remind him of everyone else’s. But could he have -

“Yeah, I know how much you love Halloween.” Jäger earns a nod from Blitz and oh, that’s right. Of course that’s what he means. “You’re coming to Julien’s party too, right, Quinn?”

“Yes”, she replies curtly and contributes no more to the chatter about the Germans’ plans. She’s not hungry anymore.

.

The next afternoon, Spectre is in a rotten mood and hates herself for it. She adores Halloween, even decided to go all out this year and whip up a full-fledged zombie costume, ordered liquid latex for fake injuries, white contact lenses to max out the creepy and went so far as to buy blood capsules. Her plan was to dramatically announce her insatiable hunger for human flesh at some point during the party, and then gurgle crimson – Rook made the mistake of letting everyone know there’d be prizes for the best costumes and she’s determined to make it to the top three.

Well, was determined.

It’s silly and she knows it, yet this changes nothing. She received the usual greetings and best wishes from her family and friends, had Buck and Frost congratulate her inconspicuously, the two shoving candies and other important Canadian foodstuffs they know she misses into her pockets, and it’s how her birthday normally goes. She refuses to make a big deal of it, keeps it secret so people rather worry about enjoying Halloween than to procure impersonal gifts or, even worse, sing for her, and still -

Part of her had hoped she’d be important enough for Blitz to remember, yet she hasn’t even seen him all day. And the fact that this is what brings her down makes her feel even sillier.

No, she’s going to have a good time regardless. It’s not the end of the world. She’s going to freak everyone out by groaning and reaching out when they walk past, she’s going to unsettlingly stare at people and it’s going to be glorious. Rook hates zombies and she’ll have a whale of a time chasing him around his apartment.

Just as she’s made this decision, her doorbell rings unexpectedly.

For some reason, Blitz is holding a mug with the logo of a local wildlife resort in his hand, looking sheepish and apologetic at the same time. “There’s still time before we have to leave for the party, right?” He sounds out of breath, cheeks as red as his ears from the cold and looks adorable.

“Sure, more than an hour. I’m just starting to get ready.” Frowning, Spectre peers into the mug. “Did you bring… compressed dirt? You’re missing a few tentacles for your Davy Jones costume, I’m afraid.”

Blitz just laughs and enters the place where they’ve spent countless hours together, her kicking his ass at her favourite video games, them attempting to bake together, coming down after intense training or when they’ve just returned after a mission. He prefers visiting her, he’s said as much, thinks her flat is more inviting and homely and she secretly agrees. He toes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket and rummages in his pockets for a few more objects before herding her into the living room, taking his usual spot on the couch next to her.

Nothing gets clearer even as he sets the cup on the low coffee table and places an unassuming envelope next to it.

“What are you doing?”

The genuine confusion in her voice seems to amuse him for some reason. “You’re an idiot, Quinn. Did you think I’d forget? Happy birthday.” And with this, he conjures up a small candle and pushes it into the soft mass inside the ceramic. This is when it clicks.

“Is this – a mug cake?” She can’t believe it.

Blitz shrugs with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve destroyed your kitchen often enough that you know how bad I am at baking. This is all I could -”

A hug cuts him off and he seems happy to reciprocate it instead of talking. His strong arms pull her closer, squeeze her reassuringly and her heart sings. She can only imagine how long he must’ve agonised over what to gift her – because she also knows how bad he is at choosing presents. “Thank you”, she whispers and means so much more, but for now it should suffice. Another squeeze. She could get used to this.

And then the quiet, serene atmosphere vanishes as soon as she opens the envelope. Blitz watches her bounce and flail and cheer for a solid minute before he points out: “There are two tickets. I figured you might not want to go alone.”

“Two tickets to fucking Gamescom?”, Spectre squeaks ecstatically.

“And the flights, and a hotel room.” He seems extremely pleased with how excitedly his gift is being accepted – and this is the best thing Spectre could’ve hoped for, it’s the largest video game convention in the entire world. She’ll get to try out upcoming titles herself, collect all the swag, stroll around among like-minded people and this is amazing. “You can take whoever you like.”

In her exhilaration she misses his tone of voice but doesn’t miss his surprised expression when she punches him in the arm. “You hoser, of course you’re coming with me.”

“Really? I – I mean, I can probably be useful since it’s in Germany, so -”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to go with me even if it was in France, or Canada, or wherever.”

And now she notices his blush still hasn’t disappeared despite his breathing long having calmed down. …maybe the cold wasn’t really its cause. Maybe, just maybe -

“I’d love to go with you”, he says and oh, he’s not really that interested in gaming normally, and he said a hotel room, and maybe, just maybe, he told Jäger instead of her because…

It clicks. And suddenly, she knows with vicious clarity that this is going to be the best birthday of her life. “Elias”, she murmurs and waits until he finally gathers the courage to meet her fond, helpless, hopeful gaze, “do you like me?”

And the bright red colouring Blitz’ face only deepens.

Seems like she won’t be using the blood capsules today after all, not when she’s pretty sure her mouth will be occupied otherwise for the majority of the party.

And only mere minutes later, she starts considering ditching her zombie costume entirely because there’s no doubt they’re going to be late anyway. Now they really, finally, eventually got each other.