#-in a way kyle allows it kyle b can be as many things as kyle wants but something that can never change about him is that he's the most

[bloogers-boogers]

Second chances part 22 > 21 > 23

#south park #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #kyman #sp kyman #'second chances' (kyman comic)♡ #kyley b is not an antagonist! he's a alter ego of kyle's that can freely express his sickening obsession for cartman #-in a way kyle allows it kyle b can be as many things as kyle wants but something that can never change about him is that he's the most #-emotionally opened kyle can be #kyle b has something kyle deeply craves but fears to be which is being more opening vulnerable around cartman #cause if there's something kyle b is sure of is that he LOVES and would protect cartman at all cost and he's not afraid to admit that #kyle has so many repressed feelings in this comic but the most painful of it all was cartman dumping him and just having to deal with that #okay I'll shut up now #oh and bradley is kyle's butters heheheh

[falloutjay]

Stan x anxious/compassionate reader (kind of has a little canon divergence)

After giving up on Wendy (around Season 12), Stan and us start dating, we were always worried about him (no we weren't dating him out of pity, we were just a very anxious person). Some people find of clingy, others find us adorable but We've never left his side:

Ex: We were by his side helping with whales (Whale W)

We were the only one who didn't leave him when he got depression (You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers)

Next to Heidi, we became social pariah because we didn't want to dump Stan (this even made Wendy guilty)

But him moving, really gets to us, the coronavirus makes it worse. We get worried about him, then we start getting worried about everyone else as everything falls apart (Kyle, Kenny, Eric, Butters, Tweek, Craig, Scott, etc.) And we pass out of stress. About waking up in the hospital, we find out, everyone was worried about us. And Stan is the most worried of all, he spends the whole day with us. We tal-no vent about all the happened to the both of us. By the end of it, we agree that whatever happens we'll do it together.

Guess whos back! :D

Well, while it's not my best work, in my humble opinion, I sure hope you enjoy and like it. Again sorry for the delay! ಥ_ಥ

And if it's not that clear, because I know I can write a little cryptic, there is a time skip. You can either have all the show events happen when they are children and have the time skip between Covid and the memories or between you getting together as kids and the memories. Choose however you like! ^^

_________________________________________

Stan x anxious!compassionate!Reader

Tiny eyes watched the scene unfold.

Normally, Wendy was the one to break up with Stan, but not this time around. Stan was actually telling Wendy that he had no interest in her anymore.

“What changed Stan?” Wendy asked, obviously confused.

“I think I like someone else… I don’t know yet…”

Wendy gave him a smile.

“I wish you all the luck Stan, say if you need anything!”

“I will.” And with that, Wendy took off to be with her friends, while Stan turned a corner and told Kyle and Kenny how it went.

Cartman was there too, but he only wanted to know if she cried, because “she would deserve it.”.

You closed your locker and felt your heartbeat like crazy. Ever since you changed school a few months ago, Stan captured your little ten-year-old mind.

He was kind and showed you around when you had no idea where to go. It was a little crush you developed, and you never felt as scared and excited as now, since that Stan had broken off with Wendy.

This newfound feeling almost made you dizzy but you quickly snapped back into reality when you heard your name.

“Y/N?” Stan asked and waited patiently for his answer next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking, what did you want?”

“Would you maybe like to hang out some time?”

Stan almost got a heart attack when you suddenly squealed but was happy when you managed to get a high-pitched “YES!” out.

“Okay, what are you betting Kenny? Some Pennies or a dead rat?” Cartman almost fell from his chair laughing about his shitty joke, while Kyle and Kenny rolled their eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how clingy they are?” Kyle asked his blonde friend, while they kept watching you and Stan, who were seated at a separate table at lunch.

“Honestly, I think it’s pretty cute.” Kenny said with his muffled voice.

You held his arm and hugged him from the side, while he happy kept on eating his lunch.

Eric, who had now calmed down from his laugh attack eyed the couple critically. “I’m giving them a month max.”

He said lazily and looked around. “I say longer than a year.” Kenny said, throwing a crinkled five-dollar note on the table.

“You two are horrible.” Kyle shook his head before he threw 10 dollars on the table.

“Four months.”

Kenny was a happy man after a year, because despite everyone believing you two would eventually break up, you never did.

You were always by his side, no matter what.

His desire to desperately save whales with the help of a braindead ship crew?

You were always right by his in the interviews he gave.

His horrible depression that even drove Kyle away? No chance, you stood strong and helped him through the whole thing and even help reuniting the gang.

Even during the protest against Skanthunt42, you chose to sit this one out, despite you absolutely hating that the troll photoshopped a dick into your mother’s mouth.

At least you and Heidi got close due to you guys both becoming social outcasts. When Wendy heard this, she was impressed by your dedication and felt somewhat guilty for obviously not trying as much in her former relationship.

Everyone admired your patience and endurance. No matter what obstacle came, you managed to get through it.

“You don’t need to be sad, Y/N. I won't be that far away.” Stan said, holding your hand.

“B-But it's outside of town. You need ages by bike to get there and vice versa.” You said, holding back tears.

Randy walked past you and you desperately pleaded to him.

“Please Mister Marsh, please stay in town!” Randy put the box he carried into the car, before turning to you.

“Real sorry, dear Y/N. This town is…How do I put it… Absolute shit and I really want to get away.”

He patted you on the head and went back into the house to get more boxes.

“Told you, you cant talk to him.” Stan said and shrugged.

“But it’s unfair. We won’t see each other as much anymore.” Stan pressed a kiss onto your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

“Don’t. Worry. I will make time for you.”

With that in mind, you didn’t feel as sad, when the car with the Marsh Family in it left for their new home.

“I will make time for you, my ass.” You mumbled while you sat at a bench near Starks Pond. Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back and just enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun.

Covid was one hell of a bitch and just had to have this big impact on everyone’s life. Stan and you now saw each other less and less.

It was just a horrible feeling that tainted your heart and made you worry a lot.

Maybe he was feeling just as bad as you are, maybe even more?

Maybe he just didn’t want to tell you how he felt?

Were you maybe a bad partner? Your mind began racing and your train of thoughts became unrailed.

So many bad thoughts manifested themselves and it made you almost gasp for air.

“I need to check on him.” You mumbled getting up from the park bench.

You began walking and you kind of hoped that maybe just the walking would get your mind in check, but sadly it didn’t. Involuntarily you had to think about all the other stuff that happened during this horrible time.

The precious Broship was more fragile than ever. You had become such good friends with Kenny, Kyle and Cartman over time that it hurt you a lot too.

You also saw Covid take a toll on your other friends, like Craig and his group, who now took Cartman into their gang after the split up.

However, that came to be…

The girls were also pretty divided, so hanging out with them meant picking sides which wasn’t your thing, you kinda just want them to get along again.

Everything felt like it was falling apart. Your parents had fights ever so often, all your friends had problems and your beloved boyfriend was stuck on that stupid farm.

God how you hated that stupid farm and Randy.

When he gave you one of those plushies that looked like him, you functioned it into a voodoo doll. But sadly, it didn’t seem to affect him, no matter how many needles you rammed into it.

Your heart felt heavy, and it seemed hard to breathe, but you brushed it aside.

You had already reached the busy streets of South Park and mingled between the newly vaccinated people.

Everywhere you looked, the people seemed happy.

Everyone was happy except you and the people around you… Maybe…You were the problem?

You shook your head. No, you didn’t allow those kinds of thoughts.

You much rather think about Stan. How you miss him and how amazing your dates were.

Oh, how much effort he put into all the small things… Well… At least he did.

Now that you thought about it when was your last date?

It feels like it had been ages. It has been ages. Everything had been ages. Going out with him, hanging out with your friends, your family not fighting… How long has this been the new normal? You can’t help but wonder.

Your heart clenched again. “Stop it, stupid heart.” You mumbled under your breath.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips when you thought about how you maybe had to walk all the way up to the farm… It would take ages, but you really craved being held by the person you adored so much.

So, you continued walking down through the street when an elder lady stopped you.

“Excuse me, but you look rather sickly, are you alright?” Confused you raised an eyebrow. Did the vaccines make them delusional?

“No, I’m fine.” You answered, somewhat snippy, even when you didn’t know why you were so agitated.

“But you look rather pale, maybe you- I am fine.” You interrupted her and continued your path.

Were all people in this shitty town stupid or- The thought could not be completed, due to you suddenly losing consciousness.

When you woke up again, you immediately recognized one of the Hells Pass Hospital rooms, once your eyes had adjusted to the bright lights. Around the bed were your parents and more importantly Stan and his mother.

“Thank God, you’re awake again!” Your mother said when she went for a hug.

Confused you asked why you were here.

“Well, seemingly you were so stressed out, that your body basically shut down.”

Somewhat shocked you looked around. Was it really a surprise to hear that? Not really, but it still felt odd knowing that it happened.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, Y/N.” Misses Marsh commented and smiled warmly at you. She had always liked you and you felt the same. She was always nice to you and you felt like she was the only one with a brain in the family…

Feeling a sudden sensation of warmness on your hand, your eyes darted down to it. Stan held you hand while answering something your dad had asked him.

“Well, Sharon, you wanna accompany us to get some hot chocolate for us all?”

Your mother said with an odd wink, which made you and Stan roll your eyes.

The three adults left the room chatting happily. Stan looked at you with a stern expression, which kind of surprised you.

“I swear, whenever I think I couldn’t get more worried about you, your parents call me, to tell me that you’re in the hospital.”

“Worried? About me? I should be worried about you?” You laughed to which Stan shook his head.

“Listen, everyone has been super worried about you since you seemed so down and just exhausted. Like, Kyle already called me earlier to ask if you’re awake again. I don’t know why you worry about me; I am really fine babe. Promise.”

With that said, the door opened, and your parents came back inside.

“Y/N, the doctor said they would like you to stay the night, so they can check that you’re really alright.” Your father informed you and you were immediately annoyed.

Well, you had no choice but to oblige. Your parents left after an hour, wanting to get you some clothes and other things you’d need.

Sharon also bids her goodbye and so you and Stan were left.

And just like you wished, you got to cuddle with him. He held you close, and you vented to him, how worried you were about everything and everyone, while he told you just how worried all of your friends had been since you were acting so out of character.

“Even Cartman?”

“Yup, even when he would never admit it.” Stan laughed. He held your hand tight, and his content smile never left his face.

“I think we should talk more about feelings and being worried and all that. I know I’m not all that good at it, but I don’t ever wanna have to visit you in a hospital again.” Stan said, giving your hand a squeeze.

“That sounds good. But you gotta accept, I worry a lot, because I care a lot about you, okay?” You said sternly and Stan nodded. You two looked fondly at each other and just enjoyed the time you got.

“Together forever?” You asked and he whispered “Forever.”, before he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips.

#south park x reader #stan x reader #stan marsh x reader

[malachi-walker]

Happy birthday, Mal! I love your fics, they evoke so much emotion in me and have made me cry many a time. I don't often reread fics, but i've reread multiple chapters of Rhythm and Blues because they're stuck with me so much. You capture the emotional pain of their trauma and the catharsis that comes with their growth so beautifully. You also write some brilliant meta and just consistently post some fantastic thoughts. Also your love for swords is very appreciated. <3 have a lovely day!

First of all, my apologies for not replying sooner. I was making my mind up about something that would definitely require the use of a read more and thus necessitate dragging myself to desktop (which I hate because my laptop predates the dinosaurs.)

But seriously. Thank you so much. This is honestly one of the sweetest comments I've ever gotten and definitely made my already pretty sweet bday even better.

So about that read more. In honor of you, @metalesbo, my friends @n7punk and @jem-jarrett and everyone else who sent me well wishes or just really loves my work... Here's the opening section of the next chapter of R&B. Enjoy. It's a long one.

Adora Eternia is about two months shy of her fourteenth birthday when she first realizes she's in love with her best friend.

Though--if asked--she would hasten to explain that it wasn't when she fell in love. But trying to pinpoint the exact moment is an exercise in catching mist: the more she tries to grasp it in her hands the more it spreads out and covers everything. It just is: pure and simple and very, very complicated.

It's the beginning of December and the whole town is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Winterfest will be here in a few weeks, so to help out the kids who want to get gifts for their friends the Right Zone administration has shuffled around the groups that usually take their monthly trips on the third and fourth Sundays of the month to double up with the other two. As part of group three, she and Catra got the first week (the other three members of their crew are week two folks anyway and thus outside the reorganization.)

It's still kinda weird to think that: their crew. For so long, it was just Catra and Adora. Adora and Catra. One unit bound together, just them against the world. But there's also something nice about being part of a small cluster, their "scrappy little lone wolf pack" as Catra had once put it with a wry grin before Lonnie shoved her over with an, "Excuse you, I'm a great people person when I'm not busy making sure you idiots haven't set yourselves on fire!"

They all got a good laugh out of that one.

But regardless, the holidays are coming up and this is the first year that any of their group has felt like actually doing anything for it, aside from wrangling together a sleepover and seeing if they can convince the kitchen staff to slip them some leftover eggnog.

They made each other promise not to go too extravagant and keep each person's gift to ten dollars or lower. Even though their quarterly stipend has increased from three hundred to four hundred to match with inflation over the past eight years, it still isn't a whole lot for three month's worth of expenses, especially when they also have to budget regularly for clothes to keep up with the seemingly endless growth spurts.

There's also the usual budgetary concern of keeping her and Catra's first aid kit well supplied...

Adora shakes her head to dislodge the intrusive thought and continues marching onward through the snow. This trip is a good thing. She won't let all the awful realities of their life taint it.

With so many kids running around and wanting to shop on their own to surprise their giftees, Right Zone had to negotiate with both the local police and whatever other civic authorities they could get ahold of to come out en masse and keep an eye on them all. The kids had still come with their usual teachers, of course, but doubling the load and also splitting up was a logistical nightmare. Which is just a convoluted way to say the town is positively crawling with uniformed officers, off duty members of the fire brigade, emergency personnel, and other such authority figures quietly keeping watch and making sure no one tries anything.

Adora knows that somewhere in the press of bodies, Grizzlor's busy wrangling two new "brats" (seven and nine, respectively, and definitely not friends.) Somewhere, a certain Magicat is probably grumbling over the indignity of being forced to wear shoes and kicking every snowpile she can, like she can send a direct message to whatever cosmic force is responsible for her current frustration.

On an ordinary month she and Catra--being old enough to be allowed a bit more freedom to do what they want--would buddy up to watch each other's backs while they did their shopping. But this isn't an ordinary month, so once they'd each gotten gifts for the other three they'd split up on opposite ends of Main Street with an agreement to move clockwise to avoid running into each other. Afterwards, the entire group would rendezvous at the small clock tower in the park a block over before heading back to Right Zone.

Ten dollars wasn't a lot to work with, but Adora had done her best: a new stress ball for Kyle, some moisturizing oil for Rogelio since the early winter shed had wiped out his supply and he'd been too busy to pick up some more, a twelve pound kettle weight for Lonnie now that their shared exercise routine was getting a bit too easy for her... Utilitarian choices, to be sure, but she's been paying attention and that has to count for something.

Catra's the difficult one, of course. Partly because Adora doesn't want to just get her something practical, but also because they share nearly everything between them already. About the only thing that is definitively off limits is Catra's guitar, and she's told Adora enough about her time with Tao over the years that Adora wouldn't even ask. Beyond that... Well, there's a reason why most of Adora's day off hoodies have small strands of orange fur stuck to them.

Still. I want to get her something that's hers. Something she'll like. Something she doesn't have to share with anyone, not even me.

In the end, she nearly walks past it. In one of the artisanal shops that dot small towns like liver spots, she finds a display of hand stamped necklace pendants, with a design sheet beside it. There are a lot of the usual nature designs and such, but the one that catches her eye is a treble clef with the five staff lines bleeding out from it. They ring the edge of the pendant in a half circle, and scattered haphazardly along the lines are the other music notes.

The lack of proper order would drive Adora insane. She understands that it's just meant to look pretty, not be an accurate representation of musical notation, but still... She knows her own (broken) brain well enough to know that.

It suits Catra, though.

"Hey," Mismatched eyes looked down at Adora as her head draped backwards over the back of their desk chair, the throbbing behind her left eye threatening to escalate into a migraine. "Guess I don't have to ask how the composing's going."

"It sucks," Adora groused back, sitting up and gesturing Catra over. She jabbed at two particular spots with the half chewed off eraser end of her pencil, two hard jabs each, like she was filing a complaint. "Most of it is just what I'm going for, but these two places here... They aren't sounding right. I've been going back and forth over structure all afternoon, but nothing I do helps."

"Hmmm..." Catra stroked her chin and nudged Adora over so she could sit on the arm of the chair (they'd never gotten around to requesting a second, mostly because Adora didn't want to risk Shadow Weaver suspecting they were getting too chummy.) "Got any scratch paper?"

Adora pointed to the pile of half crumpled notebook paper she used when making adjustments and Catra snorted. "Ok, dumb question. Just let me see here..."

Grabbing a pen, she quickly inked a fresh set of staff lines and copied the notes Adora had already put down, making sure to leave space to work. Glancing between the two, she drummed her fingers on the desk, playing along in her head.

"Hmm..." Catra murmured, worrying at her lower lip with a fang in a manner that was... Oddly distracting. "Ok, how 'bout this?"

Adora jolted, tearing her gaze from Catra's face to look at the sequence of notes scribbled onto the scratch paper. She paused, brow furrowing as she played them over in her mind's eye. It was a little unorthodox, veering away from the path she had carefully laid out... But also blending well with the next part. Almost like the notes took a quick detour and then lead the listener back to where she wanted them.

"Yeah..." Adora replied thoughtfully, the tension all over her body starting to smooth out. "Yeah, that could work."

"Awesome. Let's take a look at the next part."

They ultimately ended up spending several hours going over the entire piece, sussing out every place where Adora was having even the slightest niggle of unease. She didn't accept all of Catra's changes and Catra didn't push the matter, but the ones she did...

They felt right. More right than they had ever felt when it was just Adora running circles around herself.

When they finally finished up she looked over at Catra, tail waving sedately in that way it got when she was simultaneously engaged but relaxed, and asked, "Umm... Do you want to learn with me? I like doing this."

'I like making music with you.'

Catra paused, looking over at Adora searchingly, almost like she couldn't believe the question had come up. No matter how many years had passed between them, that look never really went away, and every time she saw it Adora's chest ached in a way that was hard for her to process.

"I'd like that."

Catra's composing style is very different from Adora's. More wild, more willing to bend and break the rules if it means maintaining audience engagement, but there's always an underlying order to the chaos. To her surprise and pleasure, Adora found herself learning just as much from Catra as Catra was learning from her. Their styles brought out the best in each other.

The jingle of a bell kicks her out of the memory. Mind made up even though it's nearly double her budget, Adora scans the stand of necklaces for the one with the treble clef pattern.

It isn't there. Adora swallows down the disappointment, though she can't help the sigh. Of course. The town was well aware of the large population of music students a short drive away and catered to them accordingly. But there are also dozens of kids out on the street tonight. It isn't that big of a surprise that the design sold out.

Not surprising, but disheartening nonetheless.

She's just begun to turn away when a voice calls from the back. "Hang on a sec there, little miss."

Adora jumps, but remains where she is as a large Taurian man with a massive snow white beard trundles out from a door behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. "Was there a particular design you were interested in?"

Adora points at the treble clef, hope rising. "This one. But it looks like it's already sold out."

"Hmm..." The man scratchs at his chin. "Well with Winterfest coming up, I'm out of blank pendants-"

Adora's shoulders slump.

"-But," The man continues with a smile. "I can double stamp it onto the back of another. Ordinarily I'd charge extra for that, but it's my fault for not ordering enough blanks. Rookie move. Besides, it's the holidays. Now would that be all right by you?"

Nodding frantically in case he changes his mind, Adora scans the other designs, quickly alighting on one in particular. "That one!"

"The claw marks? Bit of an odd combination, but the customer is always right," The old man winked as he reached out to take the necklace from her. "My jig and press is in the corner over here if you wanna watch."

Adora was glad he specified, because as nice as the man seemed there was no way in hell she was going into a back room with a stranger. But she stood next to the window beside a display of miscellaneous knick knacks and puzzles, watching him carefully place the pendant in a cushioned stand to avoid damaging the already printed side and tighten it into place before moving beside the machine.

"You're gonna want to cover your ears," He tells her, patting the machine with one massive hand. "Had to switch to a steam press when the arthritis caught up to me. Used to do it all by hammer. This boy's okay, but he gets loud."

Adora nods, glad for the warning when he bellows "Clear!" and the machine's hammer comes down once, twice, three times with a sound like the ringing of an enormous bell. Once the machine is stopped and carefully turned off, the old man removes the pendant from the press and hands it over to Adora for inspection. "What do you think? Does it pass muster?"

Adora runs her fingertips over the impressions in the metal, memorizing the feel of it, the leftover warmth of the impact. "Perfect."

"Good. Now let's get you rung up."

Counting the five dollars she attempted to surreptitiously slip into the tip jar (the old man winked as he turned back around, so stealth fail) Adora went very over budget, but the others would have to put a gun to her head for her to admit it.

Besides, it's Catra. They already know she's the sole exception to all of Adora's carefully maintained rules.

With everything finished, she continues trudging through the snow toward the park, breathing a sign of relief as she moves away from the shopping district and the people thin out; no one wanting to go to the park in the middle of such bleak weather. Angling around a clustered group of bare trees, she spots the small clock tower in the distance, as well as the figure already standing beside it. Grinning, Adora picks up the pace a bit until she can see Catra clearly and--

Her breath catches.

Since her only experience with this kind of thing has been through books, Adora always expected this moment would be more dramatic. Like back to back in the middle of a fight, or eyes locking from up on stage. Something spectacular, like fireworks, lime explosions, like the feeling of playing a song without a single mistake for the first time. It's always seemed like such a big deal in the stories, and in a way, it is.

Because there's Catra, lost in her own world as she gazes up at the streetlight that's just come on, her left hand extended to let the snowflakes fall into her palm and the light catches the orange of her fur just right to make a blaze of color against the black of her coat. She looks so small, standing in that space all alone on a cold winter's night, but Adora knows deep down that she could never be that small, not when she's Catra, not when she means so much...

Pretty much everything about the past hour--about her entire life since they met if she's being honest--snaps into crystal clear focus.

Oh. I get it now. I'm in love with you.

It's a bad idea. Adora knows that. Shadow Weaver is enough of a menace while believing Catra is simply her roommate, her sometime tool--and Catra had ended up being all too right about the torture not stopping, even after years of Adora trying to direct Weaver's attentions away from her. If the evil old bitch figures out Adora's feelings run deeper, so much deeper...

Her heart beats double time. This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.

But it's still the best worst thing that's ever happened to her.

She must make a noise, because Catra's ear twitches in her direction, snapping her out of that distant contemplation. She turns her head and looks at Adora, lips curling in a lopsided grin. "Hey, Adora. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Adora blinks, coming back to herself and mumbling the first excuse that springs to mind. "... Just cold."

"Well no shit. C'mere."

When she closes the distance Catra glances around warily, making sure they're the only ones around, before reaching up and retying the scarf around Adora's neck, patting it once when she's done. "There. I know I make it look good, but you don't have the advantage of fur like me."

Adora looks down at the thin AC/DC t-shirt that Catra's wearing beneath her half open coat, the line of her collarbones and neck, and makes a snap decision. "Is it okay if I give you your present now?"

Catra blinks, a little thrown by the non sequitur. "I mean... Sure? Do you want me to give you yours?"

"I'm good with either," Adora shrugs, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating, how much she wants to do this before this moment slips away. "I just want to."

There's a long moment of silence as they each examine the other, equally searching. What Catra's looking for, Adora doesn't know. She isn't sure she wants to know.

"Okay."

Breathing deep, Adora reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace on its leather cord. Careful to keep the pendant hidden in her hand, she passes it over, fingertips sparking as it's taken. Catra brings it close to her face, running her fingers over the four parallel slashes on the side facing her.

"Why the claw marks?"

Adora laughs, nervous butterflies positively rioting in her stomach. "Because you're a badass. Duh."

"True," Catra smirks, flipping it over and squinting at the other side. "And this?"

"Badass, loves music with all your heart. Not mutually exclusive concepts," Adora says, trying not to give away how much she thinks about this, how much she wants to take that hand in hers. She settles for a playful shoulder bump instead. "Plus we all know you're secretly a big softie."

"Excuse you, I am all sharp edges," Catra giggles, lightly elbowing her before transitioning into a soft little smile. "... Just not with everyone."

Oh God oh God oh God. That smile will absolutely be the death of her.

Swallowing past her horrible awareness of that softness, Adora asks, "So you like it?"

"I love it. Good luck ever getting me to take it off," Catra laughs, then frowns, flexing her fingers. "Hands have gone a little numb, though. Help me put it on?"

Adora.exe promptly crashes to desktop. But she still somehow manages to move, helping Catra hold back her mane so she can slip the leather cord over her head and tuck it beneath her hair. If she hesitates a moment too long in letting go, at least Catra only shoots her an amused glance. "How's it look?"

"Great," Adora manages to croak out, trying to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. "You look great. Umm... Happy early Winterfest, I guess?"

"Well, I'm gonna hold onto yours a little longer," Catra laughs, playfully sticking out her tongue before reaching out. "C'mere, you big dork."

Adora shuffles closer, mind and heart both screaming as Catra draws her into a hug, nuzzling her head against the side of her neck. A little whisper. "Thank you."

Adora swallows again, even harder. "You're welcome."

Between them, the necklace rests, the music side pressed right up against Catra's heart.

----------

Fun fact: the shopkeep is based off a cool old dude selling machine pressed necklaces I ran into at a Scottish festival when I was 13, and he made such an impression I never forgot him. Anyway, happy Valentine's! Have a Big Gay Realization!

#answers #rhythm & blues #the catradora rockstar au #featuring adora's big gay realization #and also fantasy christmas

[vickysaurus]

What if season 5 was two seasons?

So watching through season 5, I kept noticing how fast the pacing had to be with the amount plot threads there were and how often I went ‘I wish we saw more of X’. So as I’ve mentioned a couple of times, I’ve started wondering if it might’ve been better if its story had been spread over two seasons rather than one. Now, obviously I understand that kind of change would not have been in the crew’s hands and no matter what they wanted would likely have been impossible. This is not intended as a ‘they should’ve just done this’ but as a thought experiment. Would a sixth season even have worked? So I’m gonna try and figure out how season 5′s content might’ve been done over two seasons in an alternate universe. In order to keep straight how far in the seasons we are, I’m gonna number the episodes 5-1 to 5-13 and 6-1 to 6-13 for clarity.

-5-1: We’re gonna start off immediately inserting an extra episode: The Fall of Bright Moon. Rather than a time skip, we get to see the first days of the invasion and the evacuation of Bright Moon in the face of overwhelming force. Micah has to switch back into being king, Adora has to deal with losing She-Ra, Bow has to deal with losing Glimmer. There’s a major subplot about Scorpia working up the courage to apologise to Entrapta and the two of them reconnecting. Perfuma probably helps her with that. That sounds like a pretty busy episode, but I think the first two Velvet Glove scenes from Horde Prime should probably be moved to it to not just leave Catra and Glimmer hanging completely.

-5-2 to 5-4: Horde Prime, Launch, and Corridors stay mostly the same. Since I moved the first Velvet Glove scenes to 5-1 and we can probably cut a bit of exposition from Horde Prime with the addition of that episode, these episodes get a couple minutes extra, which is split between an extra Glimmer and Catra in jail scene and some more of Scorpia and Entrapta’s friendship in Launch.

-5-5 and 5-6: An extra season gives us time for worldbuilding and more of the new characters, and since I like the Star siblings I’m gonna selfishly give them a bunch more screen time. The plan to save Catra takes more preparation in this version, leading Best Friend Squad and the Star siblings to go on an adventure on another planet after Stranded, one that is under Horde occupation but hasn’t been destroyed by them. They’re there for either information or some kind of device they’ll need to get on the Velvet Glove, but end up sowing the seeds for a local rebellion on the planet. We’ll see more of that plot later on.

-5-7: Save the Cat. It’s perfect as is.

-5-8: Taking Control’s A plot, enhanced with some scenes from Don’t Go into a full episode.

-5-9: This is where Taking Control’s B plot with the chipped Etherians goes. To go with it, Best Friend Squad is going on another space adventure after a rendez-vous with the Star siblings while they try and escape the Horde. I’m thinking maybe Hordak could be one of the clones searching for them, and while he doesn’t come face-to-face with Entrapta we could see some more of his conflicting feelings building in the course of this. Just a moment’s hesitation on his part allows Best Friend Squad to escape. Catra befriending Glimmer and Bow is a major part of this episode, and it basically bridges the gap between the little overtures between them in Taking Control and Catra as a part of Best Friend Squad in Shot in the Dark.

-5-10: Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio only get a cameo in season 5, and that’s something I really want to change. I want to give them a ‘Lower Decks’ episode where they’re basically just trying to go about their lives post-Horde but rapidly discovering the war is impossible to ignore. I feel like we don’t see enough of the normal Etherians in general, and I think these three are a great way to show how they’re doing.

-5-11: Perils of Peekablue. However, the scene at the end where it turns out Micah is already chipped and so are enormous amounts of Etherians doesn’t happen yet.

-5-12 and 5-13: So now I need to have a big season finale happen, and unfortunately Shot In The Dark, while a great episode, is also a little too low-energy to fit the bill. So what I’m gonna do is make it the B-plot of a finale two-parter. The A-plot is set on Etheria, and is basically some big climactic business where the Princesses, General Juliet, (remember her?) and many common Etherians take the fight back to the chipped princesses, and things go well until disaster strikes and Micah gets chipped. Pretty vague, I know. The ‘Lower Decks’ episode we did sets up a lot of the plot here; Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle are probably involved in it. The two-parter ends with the big ‘Oh fuck everyone’s chipped’ moment at the end of Perils of Peekablueas the big season-ending cliffhanger. After that scene, we switch to Best Friend Squad landing on Etheria, and that’s how season 5 ends.

-6-1: I think An Ill Wind would be a solid season opener as is.

-6-2 to 6-10: Yeah, I’m gonna take this whole block of episodes in one go, because this is where it gets complicated. Return to the Fright Zone and Failsafe take place in this block, but it’s beyond my ability to figure out the full plot developments of this entire season. While for season 5 I can keep to the structure of Best Friend Squad’s space adventure, season 6 is gonna be a lot more freeform, and would presumably have major plot elements added. Here’s my thoughts on these nine episodes:

-The chipped princesses get unchipped earlier. They provide good heartwrenching moments, cool bossfights, and allow for major villains ranking below Prime without having to introduce new characters, but I think ultimately it does the chipped princesses a disservice since they just don’t get to show character in the second half of the season. Just compare how well we know Netossa as a character with how well we know Spinnerella. So they get unchipped over the course of these episodes and get to be with the Rebellion again afterwards. Mermista and Spinnerella get unchipped the same way as in canon. Scorpia actually gets to talk while chipped and has a heartwrenching confrontation with Catra in which she basically responds in the worst possible ways to Catra’s regrets (the same way we saw chipped Catra basically being am expression of her worst traits) and they have a fight that’s super rough for Catra, but Catra manages to damage her chip and save her. They have a better chat afterwards, and that’s when they make up and hug it out. I think Micah is the last one to be unchipped, and I might actually keep him chipped until Heart, Part 1 so Glimmer still gets that climactic confrontation with him. Now, a possible concern is that this means there’s just not gonna be enough ‘bosses’ around to fight in Heart. Solutions to this could include for example advanced robots, chipped minor characters like Huntara, Dumbface Octavia, and alien monsters. Maybe Hordak? Though I definitely want him back on the Velvet Glove’s bridge in time to give Prime his date with gravity.

-So that’s sort of the major arc, but there are several characters and plot threads that I feel could easily be an episode’s A- or B-plot in this bunch:

*Catra is mortified when she realises she caused Angella’s death and has a big freak-out over it and tries to run away, Glimmer confronts her and they deal with their feelings on the matter

*Another Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio episode

*A Wrong Hordak episode where he discovers his own identity and picks a name, also feat. Entrapta’s attempts to reach out to Hordak

*Madame Razz episode where Adora tries to get her help, possibly involving the Crystal Castle and George and Lance

*Sea Hawk and Double Trouble drama kids adventure where they try to save Mermista (I think Mermista vs. Sea Hawk and Mermista being unchipped gets moved to the end of this episode). These two were delightful for the little time we saw them together in Perils of Peekablue and I want Sea Hawk to somehow rope Double Trouble into an adventure.

*All the space adventures and world building I put in season 5 coming to a head when some form of space reinforcements led by the Star siblings come to help.

*And of course Return to the Fright Zone and Failsafe.

-6-11 to 6-13: Heart is now a three-parter, deal with it. Horde Prime is beaten at the end of part 2, or more likely the start of part 3, and the rest of part 3 is that sweet dénouement I crave.

So with all that laid out, let’s return to the question: would this work? I think if it had originally been written to be two seasons, the story could have easily worked for two. As is, I’m retrofitting a single season to be two, so some of the stuff I’ve added sounds rather redundant or vague. There are certainly enough plotlines and characters to make a split work, but of course those would’ve had to have been written into the plot from the start to not feel tacked on. Of course, brevity is the soul of wit, so even if two seasons had been an option, it’s quite possible a single that has too little time is still better than two that have too much.

#spop #she-ra and the princesses of power #meta #season 5

[nokomiss]

I would love to read more about steph, bat understudy extraordinaire, do you have any extra headcanons in that beautiful brain of yours

I always have extra headcanons about Steph! (Original post this is referring to is here)

The time that Selina, who needed Catwoman to make an appearance at the same time Selina Kyle had an unavoidable engagement, looked around the Cave and said, “Eh, you’re close enough to my size,” and the next thing Steph knew she was living out several personal dreams by a.) wearing Catwoman’s outfit which made her look smokin’ hot b.) getting to do the whole cut a circle of glass out with diamond-tipped nails heist thing c.)  learn to use a bullwhip and d.) finally found out what shade of lipstick selina wore. it was possibly her favorite fill-in.

Filling in as Black Bat was probably the most nerve-wracking, because Steph was a confident young vigilante but she damn well knew that she wasn’t on Cass’s level, fighting-wise, but she leaned in extra hard on the spooky wraith-like phantom aspect (Steph’s cape game is unsurpassed; she keeps trying to challenge bruce to a cape-off, to see who can dramatically swish it the best, but he refuses, probably because he knows he would lose) and unnerved the (thankfully low-rent) ninjas enough that she could take them out easily without damaging Cass’s rep.

The less said about Steph’s night out as Robin, the better. She wore her own Robin outfit (still fit!) but for the sake of authenticity brought Damian’s swords... there were so many Princess Bride references. so many.

Going out as the Signal was fun in that she got to see parts of Gotham by daylight that she rarely did -- turns out a lot of it somehow looked shoddier in the light? who knew?? -- and if the dudes she busted noticed that the Signal had gone through some fairly significant changes since the day before, well. no one said anything.

Dick tapped Steph in as a Nightwing understudy for a Titans mission-- she pointed out that she could go in her own vigilante persona just as easily, but Dick shook his head and pointed out it would be way funnier to have her show up as Nightwing.  Steph showed up completely in character, bad puns at the ready, and had the time of her life. (she definitely took the opportunity to flirt with Kori)

Tim was a little reluctant to have Steph fill in as Red Robin after hearing tales of her mission with the Titans, but everyone else was busy, and Alfred said he wasn’t allowed to go out until he’d slept at least eight hours, so Steph took over the bust on a case he’d been working on for weeks. The dealers Red Robin took down that night couldn’t help but notice that Red Robin’s left hook had improved significantly since the last time they’d met, but because of that they didn’t have long to notice much else about him.

The time as Batman really wasn’t... intentional. It was just all the boys and Cass were out with their various teams, and Steph was patrolling the city when there was a major villain hostage situation of the ‘if batman doesn’t show in fifteen minutes, this entire city block is gone!’ variety, and so Steph and Alfred did rock-paper-scissors, and Steph lost, so she put on the cowl. Batman was extra silent during that encounter, and with all the smoke bombs and fists to the face that the villains took, no one actually got a good look at him.  Thankfully.

Babs, after finding that Steph had done Oracle duty without causing any international incidents, called on her a few times to fill in for various Birds in circumstances where a specific hero needed to show but they were unavailable. Steph made a startlingly convincing Huntress; her aim with the crossbow could use a little work but she had everything else down to a t. She thought her favorite would be Black Canary-- living out another dream, stepping into those fishnets, and it was fantastic -- but she really shone when she took over for Zinda. 

No one’s really sure when it became second nature to call Steph for understudy duties, but suddenly it is. Steph takes over a bulletin board in the cave with selfies of herself in each costume and a pro/con list about the look.

#my headcanons #stephanie brown #batfamily #batfam #batman #dcu #Steph the Official Bat Understudy is now one of my favorite headcanons ngl

[floater0352]

TL;DR warning: TFATWS Ep. 6 / Finale There’s a lot to unpack in this series finale, and I sure as hell am not the expert to do this, but I thought I’d highlight some particular issues I have. Much of this, admittedly, will be coming from the high character tenors of the previous episodes, whereas this episode is really where the “MCU kind of movie denouement” kicks in. If you can call/criticize something as “Disney formula” writing, this might be it. Did it hamper/dampen my enjoyment of this series? Not THAT much, but it really stands out and suggests it could have been better. So let me do a few numbers. 1. PRO: A very acceptable execution of selling not only Sam’s first outing as ‘Captain America’, not only the affirmation of Bucky Barnes’ commitment to heroism, but the apotheosis long-denied to Isaiah Bradley. I’m getting the impression much of the gushing here in Tumblr will be focusing on that--and to an extent, I am in agreement.  their characters were very well fleshed out and to be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way. There may be still other things I would recommend as a better laid-out recognition for Isaiah (something more faithful to the Truth comic miniseries), but that’s a minor quibble compared to the others below.  

2. CON: Falling into the trap of a “GOT-layout” series ending Ok, that description might be too harsh. After all, point # 1 is near perfect. 

However, and this is a very big HOWEVER... A really good show does not rely solely on giving your main characters the best ending possible. Their supporting cast deserves at least a fair amount of character development (understandable motivations, a good appreciation of their character arcs, more moments which make you empathize with them especially if you are trying to experiment with moral ambiguity on their characters). The fact that the action sequence ate up more than half of the final episode’s near-50 minute runtime really prevented any further character development moments. How, to some extent, this became insufficient with Karli Morgenthau and John Walker become really apparent in the end.  3. CON: Under-served Character Denouements Karli and the Flag-Smashers, in practice, were basically given the “Killmonger” treatment: they’ll have to die, but the validity of their moral argument will be recognized. As someone with a very limited set of fandoms I follow, the only other place I’ve seen this done is Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans. The protagonist cast was left to die, but the tragedy of their situation led their world to improve things for the better. (For those familiar with this fandom, many will understand that this did not go down well.) Compare this, in turn, to how Breaking Bad gives even the supporting cast and side-characters understandable character endings.

The reason of complaint here, being, that this kind of story flow robs these characters of agency not only in their tragedy--but also how they choose to go out. Sympathetic tragic characters, to an extent, are at least given some dignity in how they go out. The fact that Karli and the Flag-Smashers are practically disposed of by a) Sharon, now fully revealed as the criminal Power-Broker and b) Zemo, whose butler is no less capable in extreme action even while he was in prison further highlights how they are basically reduced into ‘plot elements’, not a fully-realized group/faction of people.

John Walker, for his part, is also given very little to do (and indeed, what little he was able to do in the entire fight sequence is laughable). Even his one spark of “good choice” (seeking to save the falling vehicle’s occupants), even if he failed, was ultimately overshadowed by Sam’s more flamboyant rescue. One might be able to make argument, perhaps, that that is the point: Walker’s arc in this episode, perhaps, is to finally learn why exactly he can’t become Captain America: because he remains primarily a soldier, and only good at that. Witnessing Sam arguing and pontificating in front of the cameras, perhaps, is what hammers it home to him--and why perhaps his last scene in the series is him accepting his new role as U.S. Agent. If his world is going to be small and he is going to be pigeonholed into what he is good at, so be it. If he can’t be Captain America (now that he knows why exactly that symbol is powerful, and what is required of it), he’ll find his way with people who will let him be what he can be. Notice, however, how even between these two underserved characters, John Walker has a more understandable progression. I don’t think I’ll really be able to fault ‘left-wing’ viewers of the show who will be left dissatisfied by this ending (especially those who are sympathetic to the Flag-Smashers’ demands--especially as to some extent (due to my own line of work and leanings, I’m kind of one of those). And then there’s the reveal of Sharon as the Power-Broker--its own can of worms, but I’ll fold it in the next item. 4. MIXED BAG: How the show’s social layout closes

The fact that the MCU’s undercurrent politics remains to be “institutions are bad, mob/grassroots action will always be misguided, let media-chosen/private individuals and orgs show you the ‘right way’ of doing things”--it isn’t really as helpful as it could be. The show basically ends with Sam and Bucky’s individual arcs and moral world-views affirmed. It is definitely a happy ending for them. It is, however, pretty difficult to swallow that it ends well for them when the bigger picture is left unaddressed.  (For those who may be interested in this line of critique, this video essay, “Imagining the Tyrant” by Kyle Kallgren / Brows Held High / oancitizen should be helpful.)

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in 2 instances: the setting of Walker’s rechristening as U.S. Agent, and Sharon’s “pardon” scene--now that we know she is in fact the Power Broker. Both events happen in the U.S. Senate Committee hearing hall--basically making the statement that even with a new Captain America that is more ‘home-grown’ and closer to the ground and common people (even as he literally flies high), the institutions of the U.S. government is still as impervious and clueless to its corruption and enabling of crime and injustice. Criminal elements like Valentina de Fontaine and the Power Broker foster the underground economy with impunity, and the U.S. government allows them to for a number of unbuilt/unestablished reasons. 

It’s a valid/backed-up argument to make, and with historical/real life basis at that, but this is the kind of plot development difficult to credibly sell within a 6-episode miniseries already crammed with character arcs--and it shows. Compare this, for example, with how the Netflix series The Punisher built throughout its Season 1 run how exactly can black market profiteering grow under the CIA in a believable way. There, you see exactly what needs to happen for a previously-established upstanding character living in a grey environment to turn grey--even full on black (be it Frank Castle/the Punisher himself, Dinah Madani, or even Billy Russo). I’d want to chalk this up to the possibility of merging/reintroducing that world--and by god, imagine Jon Bernthal’s Punisher returning in this kind of gray area--interacting with Captain America AND the Winter Soldier, as this series is now likely to be titled--should be very interesting.

---- These are the top points in my head after my first watch of this finale. I may be rewatching this again--who knows if I get to come back. Still, it’s been a pretty meaningful ride. P.S. I should probably admit to my Filipino background here again, but it’s hilarious how the closing shot of this series (Sam and Bucky having a party with their family/community near the Louisiana seaside) is basically how mosts 80′s/90′s era Filipino action and comedy films end (either a beach party or a wedding/outing near a beach/swimming pool). The presence of Pinoy shout-outs in this series (”Amatz” and “Isang Tao, Isang Mundo”) really emphasize how this might not be an accident.

#tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sharon carter #helmut zemo #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #john walker #us agent #isaiah bradley #truth red white and black #philippines #the punisher #gundam iron-blooded orphans #breaking bad #game of thrones #karli morgenthau #flag smashers #power broker #contessa valentina allegra de fontaine #erik killmonger #black panther #captain america #marvel

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Twenty-Six

(Previous Chapter Here)

Yeah okay this took forever,,,, have fun with it! (;

Also it was too long for one post again so I’ll reblog this with the rest-

Cryptor struggles to find the solution to the latest puzzle they gave him, doing his best not to let frustration show on his face as he ignores Kyle and Martha talking in the background.

He hates this. He just… he wishes that there was some way out, some way to be free, some way to be okay again.

But there’s not. He’s stuck here, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

He feels tired. So tired. Nothing even seems to make sense anymore, so his only real choice is to just… keep going. Even if the only way he can do that is to follow their orders.

Exhausted, he takes a moment’s pause from the puzzle, absent-mindedly listening in on part of the conversation going on behind him.

Martha is the one speaking. “- and when Sentry is here, we’ll be able to-“

Hold on. Did he just hear what he thinks he did? Did she just- Sentry? She’s going to bring Sentry here?!

He whips around, turning to face them. “What did you just say?!” He demands, ignoring the voice screaming at him to just do what he’s told. He can’t sit there and do nothing, not while his friend is on the line!

Kyle seems to wince some, but Martha glares. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned with, General.” She snaps. “Do not speak out of turn again, and go back to your task.”

He completely disregards the order, only staring at the two of them. They- they’re going to bring him here?! No, no, Cryptor’s been behaving, he’s been following orders, why would they-

“General, calm down.” Kyle interrupts his train of thought. “You knew it would come to this eventually, right?”

Cryptor can only stare in sheer horror as he struggles to come to terms with the implications of what they’re saying. “I- no. No, I didn’t- I-“ He abruptly stands up, pushing the small bench he’s on backwards as the metal screeches, but he ignores the loud sound, barely even able to hear it over his racing thoughts.

“No!” He shakes his head rapidly, struggling to figure out what to say. “You- you can’t-“

“Sit down, General.” Martha orders, her expression one of annoyance.

Fear and anger take over him, leaving him trembling. “You can’t hurt him!” He shouts, trying to come up with something, anything he could do to stop this.

“General! There's nothing you can do about it!” Kyle snaps, an aura of almost unease around him. “Calm down or you'll get hurt yourself!”

Okay, there’s something going on here, usually he doesn’t get so many warnings, why would-

Oh, who cares about what’s going on with that?! Sentry is at stake here!

His words showcase his fear and anger, his voice trembling as he snarls the words out. “I- I can’t just sit here and follow orders when- when you’re going to-“

Martha’s voice is dark as she narrows her eyes at him. “That’s enough, General.” There’s a clear threat to her tone, and just that is enough to make him start shaking…

For a few moments, all he can do is stand there, fighting against the urge to cave, to do what she says, to hopefully avoid punishment-

It’s a struggle, but he manages to hold his ground. “No.” He gets out, making himself hold her gaze. “No, I can’t. It’s not.”

He forces the words out even as he feels his power source kicking into overdrive- he’d rather have it ripped out than let them do what they’ve done to him to the innocent nindroid back at Borg Tower.

Shifting on his feet, Kyle seems to want to say something- but after a moment, he minutely shakes his head, looking over at Martha- likely for instructions.

Every gear and wire inside him feels abuzz with the mechanical equivalent of adrenaline, but he can’t think of what to do or say. His mind is running so fast that he can’t catch up, leaving him only able to stand and stare as the fear floods through him.

“Take it to the training room.” Martha turns to some guards as she speaks, still seeming annoyed. “It appears it needs to relearn an old lesson.”

The words send their own kind of fear through him, the thought of a punishment leaving him shaking even more. But he does his best to shove the feeling down, letting himself be escorted back to the training room and tied down once again.

There still seems to be something off about the blond as he dismisses the guards, but in all honesty, he doesn’t have enough processing power to even try and think about what it might mean.

Kyle sighs, but it doesn’t seem to be out of annoyance. “Okay, use the usual method. Just shocks for an hour.”

Wait- what? That’s it? Well, he- he doesn’t want to be punished more, but usually he gets in more trouble for this kind of thing.

He starts to voice his confusion out loud, but the shock he gets serves as a reality check, reminding him of his situation.

He’s not allowed to speak unless spoken to.

There’s silence, for a while. Which is surprising in its own way- Kyle usually gives him a lecture about what he did wrong while he’s being punished, but this time he’s… oddly quiet.

After all this time, you’d think that Cryptor would have grown numb to the pain. With everything he’s gone through, some shocks are hardly the worst thing in the world.

But somehow, he never seems to be able to quite adjust to it. Every blast of pain is just as bad as the one before it- and sometimes worse, when they start accumulating.

Breathing deeply, he looks down at the floor, struggling to hide how much it hurts. It’s- it’s not really real, anyway. It’s just… just a digital reaction designed to warn him that his circuits might be in danger. But he’s not in any real life-threatening danger, so all it does is-

A particularly painful shock jolts him from his train of thought, and he grinds his teeth as he struggles to push the pain from his mind.

In all honesty, he’s lucky that he’s had the life he did. With all the abuse he suffered from before the facility, he had actually gotten the chance to learn how to cope with this kind of thing.

But Sentry, on the other hand…

No. No, he can’t think about that. He can’t- there’s nothing he can do at the moment, he just needs to keep breathing, needs to not think about it, needs to not imagine what Sentry’s screams would sound like, needs to not picture the way he would curl in on himself as he struggled to cope, needs to not even consider what he might look like after going through even half of what he and Zane had-

He’s pulled from his downward spiral by Kyle, the blond suddenly speaking- and loudly, at that.

“OKAY! Okay, that's enough! An hour is way too long for that small of a mistake, I- Stop!”

When the shocks die down, Cryptor still can’t figure out what’s going on. Something is going on here, but Cryptor honestly doesn’t have the energy to piece together what.

He knows that he’s shaking like a leaf, and it makes his gut churn thinking about how damn weak he is, but he doesn’t dare lift his gaze.

It takes a moment for him to remember what he’s supposed to do. Right, they finished a punishment, he- he needs to confirm that he learned from it.

“ ‘m sorry, Master.”

The words are choked out and pathetic, and just hearing his own voice like that makes him want to cringe.

For some reason, Kyle seems to look uncomfortable, almost regretful in a way. “It's okay, it's- here. Let me-“

He trails off in favor of taking off Cryptor’s restraints- and after he does, he turns away, looking at the far wall.

For a second, the door tempts him. No one is watching, it would be so easy to-

No. No, he can’t do that. He has to stay, to follow orders. He gets hurt if he doesn’t follow orders. And while this punishment wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, that just means that the next one will probably be worse.

A hand comes to clutch at where one of the chains had been pulled a little bit too tight- with the shocks, he actually hadn’t even noticed the way they were digging into his plating until now.

Once again, he remembers what he’s supposed to do. Kyle let him go- and early, at that. He’s supposed to acknowledge that.

There’s no pride left for him to ignore as he speaks. “Th- thank you, Master.”

Kyle doesn’t react, looking almost lost in thought. He brings a hand up to his face, and if Cryptor didn’t know any better, he’d say the blond was trembling.

Alright, something is definitely up here, but Cryptor isn’t going to risk getting punished again for asking. Whatever it is doesn’t seem to be causing any immediate harm, so he’d be better off leaving it alone.

With no orders or distractions, his mind begins to drift. And unfortunately, his stupid processer takes him back to Sentry.

He really, really doesn’t want him to get hurt, but no matter what he does, it won’t make a difference. They’ve proven time and time again that he’s too pathetic to stand a chance, and… it’s hopeless.

Well, he- he could try to, at the very least, minimize his suffering. There has to be something he can do for that, right?

He could try taking punishments for him, but they’d catch on pretty quick, and then they’d just start hurting Sentry to get to him more. He could do something worse after every mistake Sentry makes to make them put it in kind of perspective, but that would just prolong it.

He- he could… help them. Help them- help them break him. If Sentry’s not really there anymore, then he won’t be suffering. He-

A feeling of disgust wells up inside of him as he realizes what he was even considering. No, he can’t do that, he can’t do anything like that! He can’t help them do that to him, he- he just-

Cryptor forces himself to keep breathing, trying to get his shaking under control. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Sentry, but if push really does come to shove…

He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

There’s an almost numb feeling spreading through him, but he’s thankfully given something else to focus on when he hears Kyle’s quiet murmur.

The blond’s voice is strained, even breaking a little as he talks. “...'m sorry, Gav…”

He seems to be trying to shove the feeling down as he clears his throat, and Cryptor could almost swear that he’s near tears.

“I'll t-take you back to your locker. You'll say you- you'll say you learned your lesson if anyone asks. This is a one-time thing, okay?” His eyes narrow as he finishes, but with how he looks, he’s hardly threatening.

The words he’s saying aren’t making any sense, but Cryptor isn’t going to turn down a break when it’s offered.

“Y- yes, Master,” he nods. The confusion is eating away at his processor, but he forces himself not to show it. If he does, he’ll be dragged right back into the training room.

Kyle starts to take him back to his locker, and Cryptor keeps his gaze on the floor as they walk, trying to keep his mind away from Sentry and what might happen to him.

He’s shaking, trembling, and he shouldn’t be- showing emotion this much isn’t a good idea, but for some reason, he’s still just being taken away from the training room.

Stepping inside the small cell, he still can’t wrench his mind away. All this time, all this sacrifice to protect Sentry…

“... all of this to protect you, and it didn’t make a difference…”

Crying.

It’s something he hated before. A sign of weakness, of something that could get in the way of a task.

But now?

Cryptor wishes he was allowed to cry.

The door is abruptly slammed shut in front of him, Kyle using much more force than necessary. There’s clearly something going on with the blond…

His confusion intensifies some, but in the end, does it really matter? Kyle was right. There is nothing he can do. Sentry is going to be brought here and broken whether he likes it or not.

He can only hope that he breaks before he has to watch the one he loves do the same.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

#the rights of a nindroid #psychological torture #torture #angst #ninjago fanfiction #trauma

[mystewion]

are gay people real

in short:

South Park Elementary School Cafeteria, day. The kids are seated for lunch. At the center table are Stan, Kyle, Kenny, Token, Clyde and Craig. Cartman runs in from the hallwayCartmanFELLAS! Fellas!StanWhat?CartmanYou'll never guess what happened. Butters just beat up Scott Malkinson!KyleButters? [He and Stan look puzzled] Why?CartmanIt was crazy! Scott was just talking about how he needed to take his insulin shot, and out of nowhere Butters said he's sick of people with diabetes feeling sorry for themselves. Scott told Butters to shut up and Butters just started whaling on him!StanYou're talking about Butters.CartmanDude, I'm telling you! Butters beat the crap out of Scott, and then he locked himself in the bathroom! [The other boys get concerned and leave their tables to go to the restroom]The restroom around the corner from the cafeteria. Jimmy has joined the boys. Stan bangs on the doorStanButters?ButtersLeave me alone!StanButters, come out here.ButtersGet out of here, all of ya! [Stan turns to the other boys and shrugs]KyleButters, people can't just go around beating up people who have diabetes! Now whatever your problem is, you just-Butters[Runs out of the restroom up to Kyle and points at him] You just think you know everything, don't you Kyle?! Every little thing you gotta shoot your mouth off like you're the frickin' expert! Well you don't know everything because [walks to Stan and points him out] your best friend is a kid who thinks the entire planet revolves around him and he only cares about HIS image! [runs back inside the boys room, then turns around and runs to Cartman] You guys think Cartman is the only selfish piece of crap in this school? You're all fake and stuck up [moves over to Jimmy], and none of you have the courage to tell Jimmy that his jokes aren't funny! [moves over to Kenny] The only kid here with any sense of dignity is Kenny, and the rest of you have your heads up your butts! [Runs back into the restroom and locks himself in. The other boys are stunned and silent]CartmanWell. Apparently Kenny is Butters' best friend. You guys gonna make out, Kenny? [Kenny flashes an angry look]Butters[Runs out of the restroom again and storms up to Cartman] And that's another thing! You're always trivializing everything I say by gettin' the last word! [Cartman looks stunned]Well you're not gettin' the last word this time! [Runs back into the boys restroom and locks himself in]Cartman...Wow.Butters[Opens the door and peeks out] Double wow! [Closes the door and locks it]The principal's office, Day. Principal Victoria is talking to Butters and his parents.Principal VictoriaI'm sorry, but your son is distracting the other students and his attitude is just getting worse.StephenButters, what on earth has gotten into you?!Butters[In a gruff voice] I don't know, Dad, ah I was just pissed off, I guess!LindaDo you think this behavior is fair to your teacher and classmates?!ButtersI don't suppose it is, but I don't give a darn!StephenDo you have any idea how grounded you are about to be, mister?!ButtersWhy don't you shut up, Dad, and stick it in your ear, for cryin' out loud! [Both parents look taken aback as a moment of silence follows]Linda[looks at Stephen] Stephen, are you thinking what I'm thinking?StephenYes. Our little Butters is flowering. He has reached the age of panua.Principal VictoriaEh-excuse me?StephenPrincipal Victoria, this isn't Butters' fault.ButtersIt's not?!StephenIt has to do with... biology. [turns right and walks off a bit] You've... maybe noticed that Butters isn't... exactly like other kids.ButtersYeah?StephenYou probably think Butters seems somehow... different.Butters[normal voice] Hey yeah, all the time.StephenIt's because he is. [Turns around and faces Principal Victoria] His mother and I... his whole family were... we're not of this place.Principal VictoriaAh I'm sorry, I really don't understand.StephenPlease, just try to understand that for our people it's a very private matter. He can't be helped by your discipline; this must be dealt with by his own kind. If it's all right with you, we'd like an extended leave for our boy. Please. It's a cultural thing.The Stotch house, day. Stephen and Linda argue as Butters sits on the couchLindaI don't want him to go, Stephen, he's too young!StephenIt's our people's way, Linda, you know that better than I do!LindaThen we can go with him.StephenYou know that's not allowed!ButtersWill somebody tell me what the frickity fookshmere is goin' on?!StephenButters, you've reached the age where you must journey to your birthplace for the ceremony of hapa noa.ButtersUhbu-but I'm from here.StephenNo. We moved here just before you started pre-school. You were born in our native land, Butters. [Walks to a bookshelf and grabs a scrapbook] A distant and very secluded island world called... Hava'i.ButtersWe're from Hawaii?Stephen[Sits on the sofa next to Butters. Linda sits to his left] Only haoles pronounce it Hawaii, Butters, but those of us from Hava'i are a very special people. We have many customs and traditions to keep our culture alive. [Opens the book and points some pictures out to him] We drink chi-chi's from the coconut. We eat poke that the Safeway provides. And when we've chosen a mate, we marry at the fern grotto, as your mother and I did so... very long ago. As a Stotch, Butters, you are actually Hawaiian royalty. Your grandma and grandpa were there at the time of the King. [Flips backwards a few pages and shows him a picture of Elvis Presley playing a ukulele with a picture of Diamondhead in the background.]ButtersBut what does being Hawaiian have to do with me acting like an emo chick on her period?StephenNot an emo chick on her period, Butters. Like a salmon needing to swim back upriver. All Hawaiians feel it. It is called "hapahui apahoha", and it means it's now your time to make your trip to our island home. You must do your walkabout to your homeland, Butters. And you must do it alone. [Linda stands up and starts crying. Stephen stands up and takes out his wallet] Take this, son. It is our Mahalo Rewards card. It will provide you with all you need. And now I must turn my back on you. [He turns his back to Butters. Linda weeps silently. Butters is speechless]The neighborhood park, day. The boys from the table are playing basketball, and Jimmy joins in. Kenny tosses the basketball at Kyle, who makes a shot, and Cartman runs up to them from the sidewalk. Stan catches the ballCartmanHoly shit balls! Holy shit balls! Guess what, you guys? Holy shit balls. [The other boys gather around him]KyleWhat?CartmanButters just got on a bus with his backpack and said he's going to Hawaii.StanHawaii?CartmanHe said he had to go back to his homeland, and then told me it was none of my business and to keep my fat mouth shut.KyleDude, what the hell? Somebody's gotta stop him.Stan[Turns to the basket] After all the things he said to us, he can go ahead. [Makes a shot at close range]KyleKenny, you're clearly his best friend. Go stop him.Kenny(I'm not his best friend.)CartmanYeah, Mr. Perfect, go rescue Butters so he can lick your balls some more. [Kenny sighs and walks away with his head down.]The airport, day. Kenny arrives and walks into the Alpha Air terminal. He sees Butters seated on a seat in an empty row, with two suitcases at his feet. He's sobbing. Kenny walks overKenny(Butters, come on.)ButtersThey won't let me on the plane. Why, I can't do anything right! [Kenny takes one suitcase and Butters' right hand, Butters takes the other suitcase, and they walk. Suddenly Butters stops and pulls his hand away] No, no! I have to go to Hawaii, Kenny! I have no idea what's waiting there for me, but I guh, I can't go on like this! [Kenny sighs, then takes Butters to the teller]Kenny(Excuse me, he needs to go to Hawaii.)TellerI already told him, I can't allow anyone on the aircraft who appears to be intoxicated.ButtersI'm not intoxicated, you skank! I'm just "deligerent" because of my hapanuanalua!Kenny(Please, could you just let him on the plane? It's really important. Please?)TellerTell you what: there's plenty of points on his Mahalo Rewards card. If you wanna fly with him, I can let him go.Kenny(Me?)ButtersCan't you see I'm in horrible pain?! Do you have any idea what-?!Kenny[Puts his hand over Butters mouth to shut him up] (Okay, okay! I'll go.) [Scene cuts to the plane flying towards Hawaii]Lihu'e Airport, Kaua'i, Runway B-5. The plane lands and Butters and Kenny enter the terminal. Butters has picked up his bagsButters[Slowly, as he looks around] Well, we're here, now what do I do? [Kenny points to the information officer nearby, and they walk to him]OfficerCan I help you with anything?ButtersUh yeah, I uh, I'm not sure where I'm supposed to go?OfficerOkay, were you with a cruise ship or land tour group?ButtersOh, ah, I'm not a tourist. I'm a native Hawaiian. [The officer just looks at him. A group of Americans approaches him]Blond ManButters Stotch?ButtersYeah?Blond ManWelcome home, young keiki. Your parents said you would be coming for your ceremony. [Notices Kenny] Ah- uh, who's this?ButtersOh thi-this is my friend, Kenny.Older WomanButters, native Hawaiians don't really approve of haoles coming to their ceremonies.ButtersOh please, i-if it weren't for him I couldn't have come.Blond ManVery well, we shall speak with the chief of our island and see. Come now. [Everyone leaves]En route to the chief, day. They go down the road, all packed into an SUV.ButtersYou folks are all native Hawaiians too?Older Man[Driving] Yes. My wife Patty and I have been coming to Kaua'i for almost five years, and Bill and Donna actually own a time share in Poipu.DonnaYes, but Poipu is getting pretty overrun with tourists, I'm afraid.Blond Man[Leans to the right, behind the older man] Let us eat.Older ManOh yea, let us eat. [They stop at Kuwahara Saimin's drive-through] Aloha, five order of saimin, please.ButtersWhat's "saimin"?PattyIt's one of the foods of our people.Older ManOh, I get 20% off, I'm a native. Here's my Mahalo Rewards card. [The cashier notes the card and takes the cash, the older man takes the food, and they're off.] Mahalo. [They soon find themselves behind a slow car with the passenger taking pictures of the scenery. The older man honks.] Come on, you frickin' tourist! Jesus, buy a post card! [Stops and points out a building] These are the ancient ruins of our ancestors. [It's the Coco Palms, long abandoned.] They say the spirit of the king is still in there.Blond ManYou must stay away from this place. It is kapu.Brunet ManKapu. that means "taboo", [points to Kenny] especially to haoles! [they drive off]Older ManUh that there is Bubba's Burgers. [Scene shows Bubba's Burgers] In Havai'i us natives say "Bubba's Bruk". [they pass by a big hotel] Here's the Sheraton, just another megahotel for the throngs of tourists. Here's where many of us natives live. The Sheraton Residences. [A gated community is shown. The Older Man flashes his Mahalo Rewards card to the guard] It's all right, we're natives. [The guard opens the gate and lets them in. They arrive at the chief's residence and step out to talk to him] Protector and Chief, I present to you the keiki, Butters Stotch.ChiefAh, Stephen and Linda's child. Last time I saw you, you were the size of a coconut. Who's the haole?Kenny's room at the Residences, night. He sits by the open window with a lit candle, a pencil and a sheet of paper. He begins to write.KennyMy dearest friends,:I am living amongst the natives in the remote and tiny island of Kava'i. What can I tell you of this mysterious island and its people? It is a place of wonder, and yet to the outsider like me, a place of odd tradition. The people here are peaceful and joyous, and seem to care little for the rush and worry of the outside world. Their diet is mostly an odd mixture of coconut milk, pineapple juice, and vodka, which they call the chi-chi. As for Butters, he is quickly learning the ways of his ancestors, and seems to be feeling better with every passing day. He still seems quite angry at times, but luckily his ceremony will finally take place on the morrow.As he writes, the following scenes are shown: First, the Safeway supermarket. The people greet each other with a fist, with pinky and thumb extended. Next, three kids are playing in a pool while Donna enjoys her chi-chi and the older couple sit on chaise longues in the background. Next, Kenny is at the bar order a chi-chi. Next, Butters learns how to play bocce ball. Next, Stan reads the letter to Cartman and KyleStan[reading the letter] "On the morrow"? What the fuck is wrong with Kenny?KennyTo wit, I have found nothing wrong with this remote place, and I must admit it will be with some melancholy that I will leave this island and return home.

I saw this chick in a bikini on the beach too. She had the nicest boobs ever. Humbly yours, Kenneth.

A luau, day. All the natives are in line for lunch before the ceremony begins. Butters stands on a platform before the chief while Kenny watches onChiefIn the time-honored traditions of our ancestors, we honor the native Hawaiian Butters Stotch with his hapa noa. [everyone cheers and and woman slips a necklace onto his neck] The shark-tooth necklace represents your connection to our island. [a horn blower comes in with a conch shell and blows into it... badly] Now drink the chi-chi! [Patty walks over with a glass of it and gives it to Butters, who begins to drink it through a straw.]Butters[turns right and coughs, then] Whoa, it's like gasoline!ChiefDrink, young keiki, and you will feel the last of your aggression melt away.Butters[Finishes the rest of the drink, then stumbles just a little bit and smiles] Hey, uh now I do feel butter, uh better.ChiefO spirits of ancestors, we ask that you bless this native Hawaiian with his hapa noa! We ask that you-Blond Man[runs in] Listen! [climbs onto a table] Listen everyone! I have terrible, horrible news!ChiefDo you realize that you are interrupting a hapa noa?Blond ManI've just come from the front office! The Mahalo Rewards card is... [chokes]ChiefWhat?! What has happened? Speak!Blond ManThe Mahalo Rewards card is being eliminated! They're trying to say our points are... are... no longer going to be accepted.Chief[Rises from his chair and walks to his left] I knew one day it would come to this.PattyTo what? What does this mean?ChiefThe haoles are trying to do away with us.Resident 1With no rewards program, there will be no distinction between who's a native to this island and who isn't!Resident 2Why can't you people respect our island? Why do you always want nore?!ChiefI'm sorry keiki, your hapa noa will have to wait! For we must unite together as never before! It is time to show the haoles that this is our island! [this draws cheers from everyone]A seaside golf course, day. A cruise ship is some distance from the shore when it blows its horn. A group of natives stand by their golf ballsChief[Yelling at the ship] Stop ruining our island, haoles! FIRE! [The natives fire away into the ocean. Some of the golf balls land in the water, some of them reach the ship]First MateWhat are they doing? [The passengers are being pelted with golf balls.]Chief[Walks over to Butters and gives him a club] Take a swing! Let them know they are not welcome!ButtersI've never done this before. [Gets into position]ChiefIt's all right. Just try to tap into that anger that's inside you.ButtersAim... my anger! Stupid [Swings successfully] Ben Affleck! [The golf ball sails through the air and enters the bridge, smashing through the window and the captain's binoculars. The first mate shrieks] Waaah! [The captain stumbles onto a controller and breaks it with sheer momentum. The ship begins to pitch back and sink. Passengers begin to tumble towards the water. Butters is dumbfounded. The ship breaks in two]ManHold on! [The golf club just falls out of Butters' left hand] Hold on!WomanOh I can't! I can't! I can't hold on!ManI love you! I love you!WomanNo! I love you! I love you back! [The ship vanishes below the water]Breaking NewsAnnouncerThis is breaking news!AnchorAn insurrection in the Hawaiian Islands has escalated to war! After sinking a cruise ship, the natives of Kauai continue to go berserk, forcing all tourists off their island.Man 1They just pushed us onto airplanes and said we weren't welcome anymore!Woman 1Then a little boy called me a skank.Anchor[A picture of Barack Obama appears over his shoulder] The President says he will send the Coast Guard to take the island back, though he sympathizes, being a native Hawaiian himself. [Thinks about it for a second] Hm.The ceremonial plaza, day.ChiefAre all the tourists gone from our island?Resident 3All but a few who are hiding out at Duke's Restaurant. We sent Bob and Trisha Turner to smoke them out.Resident 4What about him?Kenny(What about me?)Resident 4He's a tourist and he knows everything! We have to kill him!Butters[Jumps in front of Kenny to shield him] No! Kenny's my friend! He's the only kid at school I actually like, you buncha jerks!ChiefBe careful young keiki, your anger still controls you because we were not able to finish the ceremony. Perhaps we should finish it now.Resident 4Finish his ceremony?! We are at war, David! I have lived on this island for ten years. Ten years! Every July and part of August! And I can tell you all that what we are about to face from the haoles is nothing short of genocide!Resident 5He's right, David. We can't trust any tourists.ButtersHe won't betray us! Will you, Kenny?!Kenny(No, I'm not going to fucking betray anybody!)Resident 6Then let him prove himself! Trial by opahika'a!Chief DavidHe's only a child!Resident 4If he wants to be one of us, then he must face the challenge!Chief DavidVery well. [The horn blower, Resident 5, returns to blow the conch shell]On the bank of a river flowing by the Residences, day. David and Butters are there with the rest of the residents in the background, and Kenny is...Blond ManThis isn't right! He's not a native! He's gonna get killed!ButtersKenny, be careful!Chief DavidQuiet. He must face this challenge alone. [Kenny is on a surfboard on the river using a small paddle to get somewhere]Resident 1By the gods! Perhaps he has the heart of a native after all!Resident 4He still has yet to make the turn! [Kenny reaches a buoy in the middle of the river and paddles around it, then makes his way back to the riverbank.]ResidentsHohhh!Resident 7[A little tipsy from his drink] That's pretty good. [Kenny slows down, then loses his balance and falls into the river]Kenny(Whoops!)ButtersKenny!ResidentsAwwwww. [A second later they all turn away and leave. Butters stays at the riverbank.]Resident 4[To another Resident] I told you a haole couldn't do it!Chief DavidDid you make the turn your first try? Did any of us? [Kenny pops up behind them and floats down the river]Resident 8[A woman, walks up to Butters] Don't worry, Butters, your friend will find a way back to his kind. The gods will protect him. [She extends her left hand and guides him away]Kenny looks downriver and sees a waterfall. He panics and quickly dog paddles away from it, but the current overwhelms him and he goes over. He bumps into several rocks, each bigger than the last, on his way down, head firstSmith's Tropical Paradise, day. David has assembled the residents into this building and now talks to themChief DavidWe have called for this great meeting because if we are to survive this war, all the native Hawaiian tribes must join as one!Resident 9We're not joining the people of the Hyatt Grand Vacations! They have no rights to call themselves natives!Vacationer 1Oh and you do?! Your ancestors came on an airplane six months ago! Our ancestors sailed here! On a cruise ship! Nine months ago!Chief DavidLook, if we are to fight the haoles, we have to allow all natives to stay!CanyonerIt doesn't matter how many tribes we have, we can't win! We are but a few against the haole's military might! We may have passion, but passion does not win wars!Chief DavidOh no? Come up here, keiki. Come on. [Butters gets on stage with David] This child sunk a cruise ship by himself! Tell them keiki. [Hands the mic to Butters]ButtersWell I don't know about the rest of ya, but I'm sick and tired of bein' pushed around all the time! I came all the way down here for my hapa noa ceremony, and I can't even have it, 'cause the fucking haoles have to ruin everything!Resident 9Yeah!Vacationer 1Screw them!ButtersWell if you ask me, the only good haole is a dead haole! With a, with a stick up his butthole, and his wiener cut off! Rraahhhh!Chief DavidLet us make a pact with more chi-chis!Resident 10[goes to serve himself some more chi-chi from the barrels, but finds there isn't any] Um, we're... we're out of chi-chis.Resident 11Oh, right, we've closed off all the ports.Resident 12But they're still letting vodka through, right? Uh... they can't cut off our chi-chis.Chief David...Oh my God.Downriver, day. Kenny crawls onto the riverbank, coughs, and looks up. He's across the road from Coco Palms. He stands up and walks towards it. He looks around and heads in, but first waits for a bunch of bats to fly out of the cavernous entrance. Meanwhile, offshore, the U.S. Coast Guard shows up in force to deal with the nativesCaptainThis is the U.S. Coast Guard! We have instructions to take you by force, if necessary!Chief David[heading up a large group of natives] Ready? Fire! [the natives fire off their golf balls, but none of them have any effect on the Coast Guard]Captain[Lowers his binoculars, then flatly] Fire. [The ships' guns fire away and decimate many of the natives]Chief DavidArm the bocce balls! [Surviving natives arm bocce balls into slingshots stretched between palm trees. One of them lands on the main ship with a heavy thud]CaptainGod damn it.Chief DavidKeep fighting! Stand your ground!Resident 4We can't fight without chi-chis!Chief DavidYou can and you MUST!Butters[He has six golf balls in front of him and he hits each one towards the Coast Guard] Stupid! Greedy! Haoles! Kill! Them! All!Kenny walks through the Coco Palms, which is dark and spooky. A voice is soon heard, and Kenny stops in his tracks. He turns and runs away, but steps onto a patch covering a hole on the floor and falls in. He recovers and looks up to see the shining ghost of Elvis Presley. He beckons Kenny to follow him, mumbling just like Kenny does.The KingCome on, come on. [Mumbles a few more things as they walk towards a door. Elvis stops and pulls a lever, and a wall rises to reveal loads of absolute vodka, pineapple juice, coconut milk, and macadamia nut liqueur, all the ingredients needed for chi-chis. Elvis walks up to the doorway and motions to Kenny] You know what chi-chis are, right?The Residences, day, on the ceremonial plaza, Chief David admits defeatChief DavidListen everyone, we gave it all we had. It's over. We must go down to Nowiliwili Harbor, and surrender to the American government.Butters[Runs onto the plaza] Surrender?! No, the heck with that!Resident 4We can't hold out here any longer!ButtersWell I won't do it, you hear me?! I'm not licking anybody's... testes!Chief DavidYoung keiki, try to control your anger.ButtersNo! This is our home! And I'm sick of everyone who thinks they're better than me just 'cause they've got good looks, and just 'cause, even after massacring Daredevil, they happen to come back and hit a home run that everyone likes! You shouldn't be able to be good-looking and be with Jennifer Lopez and be a good director! [Turns around and walks away] All right all right fine! Argo is a good movie! There, I admitted it! I told people that it didn't hold up, but it holds up god darn it! Ben Affleck has everything, GRAGH!Resident 13Everyone! Look, I say! [Everyone comes to see, and it's Kenny coming back with a raft full of absolute vodka, pineapple juice, coconut milk, and macadamia nut liqueur. Everyone cheers him on]Resident 14The haole did it!KennyMy dear friends of the mainland,:What adventures I have found on the tiny island of Kava'i. I have truly become one with the natives, who found new courage to fight their oppressors.Chief DavidWe are not surrendering today! Go back and tell your leaders that we will fight them until the end! [Everyone cheers]CaptainYou people just don't give up, do ya?KennyThe American government finally gave in to the natives and had the Mahalo Rewards cards reinstated. Our two cultures, it appears, will once again live in peace.Everyone cheers, even the Coast Guard captainKennyWith the war at an end, our Butters is able to have his hapa noa ceremony. And with any help from the gods, become his old cheery self again.The hapa noa ceremony, day. Butters will finally become a full-fledged member of his tribeChief DavidAnd so it is with great honor that we recognize these two natives with their hapa noa. Take your cards, boys. [Two women come up and give them their cards] Apuiloa hapnanoaha! Hapa'a'a hohaaa! [Resident 5 returns to blow the conch shell a third time.] It's finally over, young keiki. Is your anger at rest?Butters[He thinks for a moment] Yeah, I guess so. Except it still doesn't change the fact that Ben Affleck gets to be handsome, talented, and then gets to go home and kiss Jennifer Lopez.Resident 15Ben Affleck isn't with Jennifer Lopez anymore, he's married to Jennifer Gardner.ResidentsYeah, it's true, uh huh.ButtersWhat? Really? But I thought I was totally jealous of him. He's just married to Jennifer Gardner? Oh my God, I feel so much better. [smiles with relief]Kenny(You do?)ButtersYeah, ogh, I like that Ben Affleck guy. He's a good filmmaker. Come on, Kenny, I guess I owe the kids at school an apology. [He and Kenny walk off into the sunset] Did you see Argo, Kenny? It's a pretty good movie. Ben Affleck has a lot goin' for him. Not everything, but a lot. Whoopie!

#long post

[incorrectbatclan]

Hiiiiii I'm new!!!!! Could you please explain who's who? Who's in the Bat Family, and their backstories please?! ❤️❤️

For this I’ve only done Bruce’s actual like genuinely adopted family (and Alfred) because it was getting really long!! Let me know If you want to hear about the rest and I’ll either make another post or reblog this one and add onto it. I tried my best lol!!

Alfred Pennyworth - Bruce’s batler and kind-of-dad rolled into one, tired, old man who just wants his family to be safe. The best baker, cook and costume creator of the group, absolutely no one can touch him or I Will Cry. Used to be in Her Majesty’s Secret Service before moving to America, so he can kick some ass - I’ve heard different code names for him, the most popular being Agent A or Penny-One, both very good at keeping secret identities secret. 👨‍🦳 /10

Bruce Wayne - This one should be obvs, he’s Batsy. Son of Martha and Thomas Wayne, he was orphaned when they were shot in an alley on their way home one night. He’s also a multi-billionaire due to his company Wayne industries, which you never hear anything about bc all he does is run around dressed in his fursona costume and punch people. Emotionally constipated, but he does love his kids a lot, even if he doesn’t show it. He’s 80 years old this year (2019), what an old man. Get some therapy. Around 40-45? 🦇/10

Dick Grayson - The original Boy Wonder/Robin. An absolutely feral child, and a slightly calmer adult. Was probably responsible for Batcomputer, Batmobile, Batarang, and many others due to his Holy Puns Batman! Born and raised in a circus as a trapeze artist/acrobat until his parents fell and died at any age between 8-12; it changes regularly. After this, he was taken in by Bruce and destroyed every chandelier he had by swinging off of it. When he’d outgrown Robin, he became Nightwing, a name he got from the Kryptonian legend and moved to Bludhaven (Gotham’s little sister city). He’s known as the funny one in the family, but in any other group, he’s the serious one so take that as u will lol. He’s the Robin you’ll see in pretty much any show about DC that has sidekicks in. Has a temper, don’t let fanon fool u. Was also Batman when Bruce died for a little bit before he was found again. Also “””””died”””””” for a bit, worked as a secret agent, back now. Absolutely amazing appalling sense in fashion. Around 24-27? 🕺/10

Cassandra Cain- Daughter of two of the best assassins in the world, and was raised to be a human weapon until she ran after her first assassination at age 8 and lived on the streets until 17 where she became one of Oracle’s agents, and later Bruce took her in and adopted her too. Due to her father’s training, she’s unable to speak with words well, and instead can read peoples body language and movement, often uses sign language to speak instead if the writer’s not a coward. She’s highly skilled in many different ways and is also my fucking child, I love her a lot. She went by Batgirl for a bit, before going by the code name Black Bat. Sometimes Orphan is used but I’m not sure why or in what comics. The cool one. She’s around Jason’s age, maybe younger, probably older. 🥰/10

Jason Todd - The second Robin, now Red Hood. Died angry, came back wrathful. Jason was living in Crime Alley, one of the dingiest places in Gotham, which is where he saw the Batmobile one day, and just decided to rob the wheels. Right there and then. Not only that but when Bruce caught him doing it, he started smacking him with a tire iron. He’s the passionate one, to say the least. Anyway, Bruce saw this kid robbing him and he was like ‘I have to have him’. So he did. For about 3 years maybe, then he died. Bc, he ran off, and the Joker killed him in a warehouse oop-. Anyway, he came back maybe a few years later to find another Robin in his place, and the clown who killed him still kicking, so he went on a murderous rampage, taking the mantle of Red Hood until he calmed down a bit. Now he’s like that angry brother u only see on holidays because Alfred makes him. Under all that anger he’s a sweetheart though, and I’m pretty sure he loves Classical Lit. Sometimes runs around with a group called the Outlaws, members changing regularly, but you have to be a redhead. Bizarro is the exception bc u can’t say no to him. Around 21? 😠/10

Tim Drake- Tim was the son of Bruce’s next-door neighbours, Jake and Janet Drake, often depicted as assholes, bc they literally just leave their kid to go do whatever they want ig????? Anyway, Timmy was like super smart, and when he was young, managed to figure out who Batman and Robin were bc he stalked them and took pictures of them every night. Sneaky. Then Jason died, Bats was like all sad and shit and wasn’t coping well so Tim just knocked on his door and was like ‘Yeah okay make me Robin’, and after maybe the 10th attempt, Bruce did. Anyway, his parents died somehow (the ‘how’ varies) and Bruce was like, yeah okay I’ll have another one. Tim’s a master hacker and he’s all-around baby, mainly bc he doesn’t fucking sleep. Was Dick’s first Robin when he was Batman, before Damian came along and got Robin instead, so he named himself Red Robin because he’s creative and petty like that. Not that I wouldn’t be tbf. Went off to find Bruce when he “died” bc he didn’t believe he was dead, and he wasn’t so like? Anyway, he changed his name to Drake recently, which is stupid so just ignore that. Needs to stop drinking coffee. Around 17? 🐉/10

Damian Wayne-Such a precious little shit. Blood son of Bruce Wayne and the assassin, Talia Ah Ghul, daughter of one of Bruce’s frenemies. He was trained all the way through his childhood to be the perfect sidekick for Bruce, so some of the things he was taught fucked him up a wee bit, but he’s slowly learning that not everything has to be difficult and he is allowed to have fun sometimes. In his eyes for a while, he was Bruce’s only son, because he was the only blood related one. Soon got told to shut up and shown that that wasn’t true. Now secretly loves his family but would die before admitting it. A baby. Became Dick’s Robin after Tim and they ended up being really close and I love them a lot. Absolutely adores animals, and adopts every animal he sees. Just like his father does with kids. Around 13.  🐈/10

The others are Kate Kane, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon and Selina Kyle. A villains list would be quite fun actually too!

Second Post! - Rest of the vigilantes

#Alfred Pennyworth #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #DC #Batman #Agent A #Penny-One #Nightwing #Batgirl #Black Bat #Orphan #Red Hood #Red Robin #Robin #Jess speaks #batfam #batclan #Bat Family

[flashfuture]

Kyle sitting Conner down and just asking him, in the straight forward way they do with each other, if they were dating before everything went screwy and he needs a straight answer, Conn not wanting to lie replies yes, they were for a few years but his friendship was always something he treasured before that and Kyle just takes his hands says he is very lucky and Conn asks why “because he got to fall in love with Conner Hawke, twice, in one lifetime,” and starts rattling off things he remembers tucking a hair behind Conner’s ear. “I mean, how lucky am I?” (Really cheese but if he called him by a nickname that, well, only he would use like an Irish pet name and that’s when Conn realizes oh shit I finally have this back, it be a moment)

Conn and Kyle sitting in bed and just allowing themsleves to enjoy the morning with their coffee and laughing about this and that, work and “work,” and ending up watching bad reruns of old sitcoms or bad b movies from the blockbuster (or if you correct the timeline for modernity, the WORSt of netflix cheesy romcoms that Kyle loves totally ironically he swears.) Kyle said that if Conn was an animal he be a cat but if he basks in the sun any longer he’s seriously considering him classifying him as a plant. Conn rolls his eyes, and bumps tjeir shoulders together. Just the domestic and nicest memories coming back slowly. And Kyle being very confused at Conn’s stance they were just bros.

POOR WALLY, he be like “I can’t do this again,” but his ass would so try to get them back together because if Conn remembers and Kyle doesn’t, he knows how fuckin shitty that can be and he is their friends, even if Kyle’s oblivious atm. He is gonna fucking do what he can, gonna speedrun this slow burn. Hell yeah, Diana, truly the kindest mom friend to the JLA, tho by the time the 90’s kids were around she was more of a grandma friend. She probably asks Wally 20 times if he’s eating well and how Iris is.

Awww them laughing and holding each other no matter who is watching them, that is so darn cute. But also totally in line with their relationship. I can imagine Kyle tackling Conn and just having them float and hug because that’s the only way I can see Kyle holding anyone up for long periods of time. He is a man of many talents but having muscle mass aint one of them. But then there is like; the other option of Kyle dropping down and taking a running start at Conn and tackling him that way. Either way, they are really happy to see each other again, it’s the same vibes as when Wally got Linda back after she was earsed from the timeline. (Which, 90’s boys once again—Linda/Wally and ConnerKyle double dates please)

Hal being confused older brother noises is really funny to imagine cause this is a lot of emotion for this reunion.

Ha like the reverse of the way we had them getting together. With Conn sitting Kyle down and confessing. 

Wally is just shrieking in the background like “STOP FRIENDZONING EACH OTHER” 

Hal is like “Walls what did I miss with them?”

“Everything Uncle Hal, everything”

Conn spent his teenage years in a Monastery and had somehow never heard of Christmas. As well as moving a lot and being expelled from 4 elementary schools and 3 boys reform schools by the age of 13 well pop culture isn’t his thing. So Kyle makes it his goal to show Conn the best of the best. Kyle is of course a dorky bisexual disaster artist so his movies can be odd choices. Kyle shows Conn hairspray multiple times I’ve decided. because my cousins always want to watch hairspray for some reason and I’m projecting. Also Disney and every animated movie Kyle can find. Yes of course the romcoms. (Kyle is so a Hallmark movie slut) 

Yess to the double dates. I also can’t decide between a twirling hug in the air or a tackling hug to the ground. One of 2 would be great.

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

Hellraiser Fandom and the Invisibility of Women’s Abuse

I’m starting to come to terms with why the Last Drive In interviews stuck with me in a bad way.

It kind of eluded me for a while, but to give you guys the emotional lead-up to what was underlying my sense of discomfort and irritation, let me explain a few things. When I heard the interview was going to happen, I watched some portions of a different Last Drive In episode to get a sense of what the whole thing was about. It’s your standard hosted horror movie show. 

It’s also awkwardly sexist. They have a character on it, Darcy The Mail Girl, who as far as I could tell in my first viewing, basically exists on the show to be ogled and be the butt of sexual humor. The men filming would even break the fourth wall to snicker and whistle when she would say something sexual. In 2020, it was extraordinarily cringe-worthy to watch, and I’m at a loss that we’re still living in a world where this is normalized. It was like watching something from the 80′s. She is extremely objectified on the show. 

I don’t blame her for this. Apparently, she was the victim of some awful bullying and body-shaming fairly recently, and I don’t want to put more suffering on that girl’s shoulders. I respect her. I think she respects herself. The circumstances surrounding a woman being in a position like this are complicated, and I do not pretend to understand her situation. She’s also allowed her own feelings about what she can and cannot handle, and what is and is not okay with her.

Nevertheless, the segment I saw in that other episode with Darcy was alienating and even rather upsetting. I felt a second-hand humiliation and pain. I didn’t feel like Darcy was put in a position where she was in control of her own sexual expression. Perhaps Darcy’s actress disagrees with me, and that’s fine. But as a female audience member, I was already feeling a sense of unease and unwelcome.

So I was obviously primed for discomfort before the interviews even started.

Joe Bob Briggs (the host) said a few things that did not sit quite right with me. Quite frankly, he repeated some more annoying fanboy statements that tend to stick in my craw. His rather basic interpretation of the film, juxtaposed against the awkward, stifling feeling of watching Doug and Ashley try to explain the deeper concepts that eluded him reminded my of my own frustrations listening to the male fans of these films’ constant comprehension failure.

How many times does Doug have to repeat the words he’s basically memorized by heart regarding the tragedy and complex nature of Pinhead? Why does this get forgotten, glossed over, even retconned so much?

Why does it always feel like Ashley gets disregarded? Every time we see an interview with her (which is comparatively rare), nobody really speaks to the deeper thoughts she expresses on her character or the narrative, but every man in the comments has something to say about her hotness level.

When we got to the point that Ashley tried to explain to Briggs that she thought Pinhead was fair in a certain scene, and that Pinhead was speaking to Kirsty’s accountability for her own desires, Briggs responds incredulously; “You think Kirsty OWES Pinhead?!” 

Ashley had spent a portion of the interview having to dismiss the relevance of characters like Steve and Kyle in Kirsty’s life, and was now suggesting a deeper subtext in her interactions with Pinhead that both A) did not cast Kirsty as pure and sexless and without culpability, and B) did not cast Pinhead as her aggressor but as her psychological mirror. 

This is the subtext that is most often disregarded by casual fans and some hardcore fans alike, that Kirsty may not be the innocent and sexless Final Girl, and that Pinhead may not be the predatory Slasher monster intent on using a sharp weapon to penetrate her violently for his own gratification, and that dynamic may not be the be-all-end all of their relationship for the rest of time.

I’ve been turning Brigg’s incredulous response around in my brain for a while. And it’s made me realize something about how men experience Hellraiser’s narrative, and why it differs so greatly for many women.

Doug has more than once spoken to the fact that women react to Pinhead very differently than men. He was of course speaking of the sexual interest he would get, but he has remarked upon the fact at least once that he’s not entirely sure why that is, exactly.

It’s...not that strange to me that women desire rather than fear the character, or that Ashley would have a more positive response to Kirsty’s relationship with him rather than her relationships with the seemingly benign boys of the films. 

There is an order to which women first learn about sex. For some it’s a little different but I believe this is a fairly common experience: The very first thing we learn is that it’s going to hurt (but maybe also feel good after). The second thing we learn is that boys will want to take it from us and will manipulate and lie to us to get it, but that it’s supposed to happen in a loving relationship. The third thing we learn is that we want it too, but we aren’t supposed to because it’s dirty and wrong for us to want it. 

Women grow up with an inherent anxiety around sex, an anxiety that is complicated by our own desires.

Everything in Hellraiser is perfectly reflective of a reality that men clearly do not have the context to fully comprehend, because women’s real experiences of desire, and of male violence, are a blind spot.

The men who hurt women don’t have pins in their head and wax gothic poetry about suffering. They don’t wear dark capes and turn into bats and hypnotize women from their windows to drink their blood. 

The men who hurt women look like Frank, or J.P. Monroe, or Trevor, or Channard, or every bumbling aggressive fool Julia seduced home. 

They look like Larry and Steve. 

Larry let his wife scream “no” and “stop” several times before he responded, regardless of the true reasons she was screaming those words. And when he finally did stop, it was out of anger rather than concern. This is, as far as I’m aware, the most common form of sexual violence a woman can experience - a man they give their trust to suddenly doesn’t respect a “no.”

So, so many times, I have heard men say how badly they felt for Larry, how innocent poor Larry was. 

Men live in a fantasy world where it’s more comfortable for them to imagine characters like Larry as good man, a victim of Julia’s callousness who isn’t in Hell not because he never touched the box, but because he is inherently innocent. They live in a fantasy world where it’s odd that Steve abandoned Kirsty the minute something deeply traumatic happened to her (Briggs remarked upon this). Raise your hand if a man has done the same to you when the cards where down.

Steve’s response to Kirsty getting too drunk to stand properly was to “jokingly” tell her to lie down in this sleazeball way that indicated he was insinuating taking advantage of her intoxicated state. Also one of the most common forms of sexual violence a woman can experience.

The men who Julia took home would respond aggressively when she chickened out of sex, either blindly or in an attempt to shame and guilt her into proceeding.

Should we talk about the fact that Kyle is a psychiatrist who shouldn’t be romancing a traumatized patient in his care who’s parent was just fucking brutally murdered? Or does that feel too petty in comparison?

The men who hurt women are more typically their friends, their fathers, their uncles, their boyfriends, their husbands.

What’s so funny about all of this is that Pinhead somehow does better at consent than these men, at least in a manner of speaking. He’s the only man who legitimately listens to Kirsty, and responds to her “no.” No matter what he threatens, he always stops to hear her out, lets her do what she wants, is always talking about her desires and pleasure, and in the end always ends up destroying the men abusing her rather than going through with ever harming her. 

Briggs seemed keen on viewing Pinhead as a Satanic figure. Historically, what is the role of women who are in a position to encounter the devil? Usually, they are witches, wanton women who gain magical power through sexual communion with the devil. A framework of propaganda that men have historically used to persecute women.

The men who hurt and oppress women in real life don’t look or act like Satan, but they sure as hell are ready to write narrative after narrative of Satanic figures menacing women while they save the day, and they sure as hell like to blame women for preferring “bad boys” and “assholes” over the “nice guy.” 

It’s more comfortable for men to imagine Pinhead as this cool figure of pure evil with no feelings or capacity for mercy, because they can live vicariously through his violence (particularly when they’re writing him doing it to half-naked women, looking at you H3) and yet simultaneously distance their moral identities from him. 

It’s more comfortable to compartmentalize what good vs. predatory masculinity looks like in a way that benefits their self-image and the status quo. This is a lie men tell themselves.

It’s safer for men to point to Pinhead and say, “this is what a predator looks like,” while curiously never speaking of the callous, scummy and predatory behavior of every single other man in the films, even to the point of occasionally discussing the perceived tragedy of fucking Frank’s spiral into darkness long before they can feel entirely comfy imagining Pinhead as having a past where he was a good man with sad feelings, or regard his act of self-sacrifice for Kirsty as anything but a moment of weakness that was “bad writing” and therefore should never have happened.

There is an extraordinary irony in a man arguing with Pinhead’s own actor over the nature of his evil, while running a show where a female character’s fuckability is her main characteristic and it’s okay to behave as if she doesn’t even have real feelings.

All this nonsense in the spaces I go to have fun, while we’re dealing with the background radiation of a President who’s sexual abuses are swept under the rug, his masculinity praised regularly and his violence against our people gaslighted. While we’re dealing with the mass-recorded aggressive violence of police - white men in positions of authority whom we are supposed to trust to keep us safe. While men make other men laugh about the violation of girls so they don’t have to deal with the reality of one of the “nice” funny guys being a predator.

Fuck you. I’d rather burn.

#Hellraiser #rape cw #abuse cw

[kathyprior4200]

Heavenly Boss Episode Four: D.I.A.B.L.O.

“Welcome the wackiest episode of the season! When Elves and Diablos clash over the fates of a fallen cherub trio, things sure do happen.”

Oh, hello. Docile here, welcome back to Heaven! I know things were a bit wild and confusing last time. Let me try and explain a bit.

 Apparently the first Heaven’s blessing company C.H.E.R.U.B. had been under the guidance of one of my previous bosses, Kiva. I don’t know why anyone would approve of her, other than she’s famous for her singing in both Heavens. Instead of spreading faith and love, she wanted more fame and a chance to create her own world on Earth. She briefly used the cherubs’ powers to revive certain people on Earth and kill off others deemed “unworthy” in God’s eyes. There is a good reason why no one should bring back the dead. Even C.H.E.R.U.B. and my company E.L.F. know that would only cause overpopulation, war, and an alteration of history. It broke my heart when we had to reverse the damage Kiva had done. In the process, we freed C.H.E.R.U.B. from Kiva’s influence, Tirred from her influence and sent the dead back to the other side. We also had to erase the memories of the event from the mortals for obvious reasons. Thankfully, Deerie just straight up banished Kiva and her group…I heard they got arrested on Earth, but I have a feeling they may come back.

 Tirred’s been experiencing a few struggles with getting over the event. He had given into his desire for more status and like many angels in Heaven, he tends to see demons as “lesser than.” He’s being monitored under supervision for a bit just in case, but I think he can fix up his attitude…mostly.

 Recently, I got an update on how C.H.E.R.U.B. is doing. They had failed to save the life of a greedy inventor and were banished to Earth. I have a bad feeling that they’ll get corrupted in Hell and return for revenge against their I.M.P. rivals. I’m all for keeping I.M.P. in line to try and stop their horrible mass murders, but fighting fire with fire usually doesn’t end well. Although I think that indigo sheep, Collin, has the purest heart of the three.

 So far, we’ve been doing business in Heaven as usual: record keeping on human life, plus spreading God’s words of good faith (and trying to leave out the bad messages of “ditch your loser friends who you can’t use.”) There’s a difference between leading cooperatively and leading selfishly. True leadership requires lifting others up as well as yourself. I guess our Heavenly Father doesn’t trust anyone else due to Lucifer trying to take His throne all those centuries ago. Paperwork is always tedious but it must be done. I know our business tithers between legal and illegal but we’ll deal with any consequences that may arise. My job is my passion and my employees are like my family.

 Right now, my team and I are discussing some ways to meet and collaborate with C.H.E.R.U.B. I think they need some guidance on properly interacting with humans. Plus, I think Sunna and I are tempted to give those cute cherubs some hugs. Truthfully, I hope we can get to them before they “sink further down,” if you catch my drift. Ideally, C.H.E.R.U.B. could stay on Earth and continue protecting humanity. Or we could provide them sanctuary in our Heaven. The first option seems more likely due to both Deerie’s rules and interdimensional complications. It’s very rare for an individual to travel to the parallel universes…and Earth is in the middle of all the Heavens and Hells!

 But hey, surely it’s worth a try, right?

 Sunna was peacefully sleeping on one of the chairs around the smooth table at E.L.F. headquarters. The elves were seated in their spots with Docile at the head of the table.

 “Alright guys,” he said. “This is a very important mission. With Lord Gabriel’s help, I’ve pinpointed C.H.E.R.U.B.’s location to be in a forest near a lake, not too far from that inventor’s old mansion.” He pointed to certain spots on a holographic map in front of them. “It appears they briefly stayed in a church for sanctuary last December and are now trying to stay low. Gabriel said they had been helping other humans in secret but haven’t gotten rid of their desires for acknowledgement, praise and material gains.”

 “Hold up,” said Tirred with his usual yawn. “I thought that C.H.E.R.U.B. never asks for any fees.”

 “That is true, but I’m talking about what they seek. The three cherubs were raised in a culture that values perfection, reward and the pursuit of happiness…”

 Tirred coughed, “Americans,” which earned him a glare from his boss.

 Docile continued, “Even Heaven’s citizens have flaws of their own. Selfishness exists in everyone, no matter how altruistic they try to be. C.H.E.R.U.B. knows that if they spread love, they can also feel good about themselves. But they always expect something in return for their work. Money, praise, God’s grace, whatever it is. The point is, they never help others just for the sake of doing so.”

 “That actually makes sense,” Timmid added, brushing back her short white hair. “I wonder if they were so quick to collaborate with us because they just wanted us to promote their company.”

 “Which is what we’re randomly doing instead of, you know…worrying about ourselves in our reality!" Tirred added, waving his hands for emphasis. “We shouldn’t have to care about some other cheesy company.”

 Sunna happily mumbled “cheese” in her sleep.

 “You have a good point Tirred, but this is different,” Docile elaborated. “C.H.E.R.U.B. may be from another realm, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t at least try to help them out. Remember that we help humans and angels alike when we can.”

 “We can’t help everybody,” Tirred said. “Especially those humans and demons who…”

 “We’re not talking about them,” Docile added, holding up a hand. “There’s no need to be a downer when I’m trying to spread light onto a dire situation here, okay?”

 Tirred crossed his arms. “I’m helping you see the reality of things. The other angelic orders won’t approve of this. Especially since traveling to the parallel realms is forbidden!”

 “And the reality is that we will continue on with this mission because it’s the right thing to do,” Docile argued, standing his ground. “It is our job to help those in need, no matter how bizarre the situation may be. So for your sake, I suggest you keep yourself in line.”

 Tirred grumbled and backed away slightly. Docile sighed and straightened up.

 “Plus, we aren’t traveling to the other Heaven. We’re going to Earth. That’s where C.H.E.R.U.B. is.” He glanced over at the large leather bound Bible that allowed them to travel to Earth. He didn’t know how much longer Azrael and Samuel would allow him to keep it, but hopefully a bit longer.

 “Won’t we need disguises again?” Timmid asked. “Or Sunna?”

 “I think we’ll be alright with going in our true forms,” said Docile. “But remember to lay low and stick together. After all, C.H.E.R.U.B. will be in their regular forms…might as well meet angel to angel.”

 “Okay,” said Timmid.

 There was a knock on the door, which startled Sunna awake. “Guys, do you hear that?”

 “That was the door,” called Timmid.

 Sunna walked over and opened it. “Hello,” she said as two men entered. One was short and fat, the other was tall and thin.

 “Are those…supervillains?” asked Timmid.

 “More like superheroes!” called the thin man. He had an elegant white mustache and white-gray skin. He wore a white top hat with a purple brim and old time glasses with purple lens. His suit was white with a large purple cross in the center, the arrow pointing up. His boots were purple and his cape was light blue.

 The squat man beside him wore a white suit with thin blue lines on it with a beige collar. He wore a white bowler hat with a blue trim and white rimmed glasses with teal lens. His mustache was black and his skin was white-gray. Both men had halos and white wings.

 “I’m Straight Nate!” greeted the thin man. “Craftsman of all things straight and narrow! This is my partner Kyle Kipton!”

 “Nice to meet you both!” Docile said, shaking their hands. “How’d you get into Heaven?”

 Nate explained. “I wasn’t always a young man. Kyle and I ran Kyle-Nate Tools, a local shop for farmers. Earlier today, we were giving food, eggs and farming equipment to the poor. We could’ve saved so many. We both got involved in our job and felt so much younger than before. It was marvelous! Turns out that Lyle Lipton’s anti-aging machine in his factory was sending out rays that turned us younger and younger by the day. Our customers soon grew suspicious when we suddenly appeared as children. Both of us were almost handed over to police. We raced toward Lyle’s place, hoping to get back to our normal ages. But before we could reach him, the mob had cornered us with torches and pitchforks. We refused to give them what they wanted and they…killed me. It was a miracle that Lyle’s machine secrets didn’t get out. Everyone believed the mobsters to be crazy. Thanks to some angel magic, no one else sought to be young again.”

 “I died shortly after Nate,” said Kyle. “Almost thought about taking my life, but Covid 19 did that for me.”

 “Sorry,” said Sunna.

 “Brother bucking Covid ruins everything!” Docile spat.

 “Wait,” Tirred asked. “If you turned into children, why do you look so…”

 “Wise?” Kyle finished with a shrug. “Who knows? Age doesn’t matter for saints up here. We stay the same age as when we died on Earth like the sinners do in Hell.”

 “Well that story was a load of rubbish,” Tirred scoffed.

 “Don’t be rude,” Sunna chided.

 “It’s alright,” Nate said. “Kyle and I are trying to figure out what do to next now that we’re in Heaven. I wonder if there are any farms around that could use our help.”

 “I’ve never heard of farms in the sky before,” Kyle said.

 “Well Heaven has a whole society like Hell does, so schools, farms, houses, pretty much anything from all time periods exist here,” said Docile.

 “Have you heard of the Canadians?” asked Sunna. “They are anti-cannibals, against eating meat in all forms. A bunch of French-speaking vegetarian cultured folk. A bit eccentric. They make the best maple syrup and host the best air hockey games. You know, literally in the air…”

 Nate rolled his eyes. “People are so quick to judge these days.”

 On a nearby television screen, a commercial showed a dark teal skinned elf wearing a black outfit and a black hat, twirling a cane. “Are you looking for work to make solemn stories and formal films? Well call me at Sully Sirius’ Serious Idea Studios, where you can create art and get rich! The one who makes the best creation will receive two free tickets for Woo-Hoo Land! But still…I have standards for heaven’s sake!” A brief clip showed Sully selling holy water bottles at the theme park.

 “Wierdo,” muttered Kyle.

 “Well, I wish you two the best of luck up here,” said Docile. “Thanks for stopping by.”

 “Anytime,” said Nate. Nate and Kyle waved goodbye before exiting out the door.

 Docile turned to a winged cherub deer.

 “You think we’ll succeed in our mission?”

 “Yeah, oh yes, yes, yes!” Doe-Doe trilled genuinely, typing notes on an IPad while wearing yellow overalls. “Go beyond the rules and you do you! Yeah!”

 0 0 0

 Docile, Tirred and Timmid stood outside in front of their headquarters building, the heavenly sky shining down above them. The white building and the golden wing designs attached to it shone brightly in the light. Tirred briefly glanced enviously beyond a wrought iron golden gate toward the direction of the silver Holy City surrounded by glowing halos. Timmid took a deep breath and flipped through the Bible until coming across a passage to create a portal to Earth. After she chanted and drew a teal blue sigil with chalk, a gap opened up. A fearful Timmid led the way through, while Docile and Tirred followed.

 The trio arrived at the vast meadow surrounded by forest trees and the shining lake. The sun shone brightly in the sky while a few white clouds dotted the horizon. Several birds chirped on nearby hanging branches, while brown squirrels and rabbits hopped along the grassy plain.

 Docile sniffed the air deeply and sighed. “Nature truly is a wonderful thing. There’s something so genuine about Earth that makes it so…vast and beautiful.”

 Tirred rolled his eyes. “Heaven will always be the superior place. It has marvelous light, gold, angels and the Almighty of course.”

 “But the living world is unique in its own way. It’s the birthplace of all the saints and sinners. They make up the majority of the afterlife. Without this place, Heaven and Hell alike wouldn’t function the way they do now. No technology, no flare, no diversity. Our current worlds today are what some mortals call a “melting pot.” Different ingredients tossed together into one societal dish.”

 “Blast, boss! Enough with your metaphorical mumbo-jumbo,” Tirred sighed, briefly tugging his pointed ears in frustration. “Do you even realize what could happen if we meet with other beings too long? Reality itself…”

 He imitated an explosion.

 Timmid laughed a bit. “Who’s spewing mumbo-jumbo now?” She playfully elbowed Tirred. “Relax, Tir. Docile knows what he’s doing. It’s risky but it’s for the greater good.”

 “Greater good, my ass,” he muttered.

 “If you wanna get your good ass kicked, then be my guest,” Timmid wiggled her eyebrows playfully as Tirred turned red in the face.

 Docile summoned his golden staff and slowly moved it in the air in front of him. The staff tip briefly glowed when he aimed it at a lower part of the hill. He spotted something small and white flying in the same direction. Docile mentioned for his coworkers to follow. They headed down the hill until they arrived at a white park bench. There were some passerby walking their dogs or chatting on their cell phones. Several women pushed strollers around, while a child tossed bread crumbs for the ducks. The paths were lined with streetlamps and red rose bushes.

 Just then, Docile spotted a flying boy and two winged sheep sitting close together on a bench. No one seemed to pay them any mind.

 “Bingo!” Docile grinned.

  The periwinkle sheep Collin sat and examined the park. The yellow sheep Keenie straightened up her yellow dress and red bow. Cletus sat in the middle in his reddish overalls, looking bored. Several white feathers fell off their wings and their halos flickered.

 “I don’t understand,” Cletus said dejectedly. “We’ve done all we can to make amends. We’ve saved people, gave them advice, and lived among the humans. Why can’t we go back?”

 Collin sniffed as tears started to trickle down his face. “Why can’t Deerie let us back? We were doing so well in Heaven. Our clients and the humans were always grateful for the work we did.”

 Keenie stamped one of her hooves. “It’s so not fair! Deerie didn’t even give us a chance. She just sent us here to suffer and rubbed it in our faces!”

 “If only that filthy imp leader didn’t blind me during the battle,” Cletus scowled. “Killing Lyle was just an accident. I was this close to eliminating them on the spot!”

 “Killing is a bad thing,” Collin mentioned, straightening up. “Our job is never to kill, but to save and spread love!”

 “Like I said before Collin, you still joined us in shooting at our rivals,” said Cletus. “Eliminating the threat is sometimes necessary.”

 “We also have Exorcists for a reason,” Keenie added. “To eliminate all those shitty sinners and keep both Earth and Heaven safe from them. Those Hell table scraps are just as bad as them, if not worse!”

 “W-w-whatever happened to ‘thou shalt not kill?’ ’Love thy neighbor?’” Collin asked, flying up and staring hard at his companions.

 The cherubs hovered in the air.

 “Those demons aren’t our neighbors,” Cletus told Collin.

 “I know that, but still, we could’ve at least taken the fight outside the opera theater! Oh and maybe saved that singer, too.”

 “When the imps were in the way, right there?” Keenie asked. “We had to watch over Lyle, too.”

 “We had to save his life at any cost,” Cletus said, leaning in.

 “B-b-but we didn’t, didn’t we?” Collin finished. “We all played a part in our fate and now in a few days, we’ll be down below facing our worst nightmares!”

 Collin broke down into hysterical sobs, as Keenie wrapped him in a hug. “Oh Collin…”

 The cherubs flew off toward the open meadow, leaving the park behind and looking around.

 Just then, E.L.F. made their entrance in front of them, floating down gracefully on white wings in their own beams of sparkly light. Docile was in the center, Tirred to his right, Timmid to his left. Spiked white halos hung over their heads. C.H.E.R.U.B. stared quizzically at them.

 Keenie glared. “Go away, demons! We’re tired of seeing you in your silly costumes!”

 “You here to m-m-mock us some more?” Collin asked in anger.

 “We come in peace…” Docile began, but didn’t finish. Cletus let out a combination of mournful cries and yells to the sky, causing the nearby humans to glare at them and scatter away.

 “You won’t get away with this, I.M.P.! You’ll pay for what you did to us and the humans you slaughtered!”

 Cletus finished his cries when a sudden force knocked everyone backwards. They straightened themselves up in the air. The ground broke apart and a column of red, orange and yellow flames shoot up from the opening.

 E.L.F. and C.H.E.R.U.B. looked in wide-eyed terror at three small shadowy figures hovering forward through the flames. Three shadows with glowing yellow eyes.

 “You seek revenge and are thirsty for blood?” came a low choir of voices.

 The flames vanished, revealing a demonic trio. A pointed tail, sharp yellow teeth, a clawed hand holding a black Satanic book...

 “We can help satiate your desires…”

 The leader appeared, looking like a twisted version of Cletus. He had teal fluffy hair and pale white skin, his teeth sharp and yellow. His eyes were large and yellow with white sclera. He was chubby like Cletus but instead of angelic wings, he had small black bat wings with long red fingers within the flaps. He wore a dark blue undershirt, a black shirt collar and teal colored overalls, plus brown boots. Two reddish orange horns curved down to meet his chin. He put away his black Satanic book.

 The corrupted Collin counterpart took the appearance of a bulky anthropomorphic yellow ram. His furry hooves were tan colored with sickly yellowish tips. He wore a wine colored red suit with a black bow tie under his thick neck. His undershirt was orange with an upside down black cross in the center. Sheathed under a black belt was a gun, a dagger and a few other weapons. His teeth, eyes and face were all a dull yellow, although a few black dots rested under his left eye. Ogre-like ears stuck out around his head of thick black wool. Protruding in curves from his head were two thick crimson-colored ram horns with little lines running down the surface. Little black wings held him in the air.

 The last diablo was a blue anthropomorphic ram and Keenie’s dark counterpart. Her hooves were purple with dark green tips. Her dress was dark blue with a green bow around it. Her dress moved from blue to various shades of green and teal, becoming lighter at the ends. The hem of her dress was torn and gave the appearance of blue flames as part of the design. Black gloves covered her hands like an executioner’s. She grinned with yellow sharp teeth against a dark blue face. Her eyes had dark orange pupils, teal irises and white sclera. Her wild hair was a lighter shade of blue, moving like flames in the wind. Like her companions, she had black bat wings and curved red-orange ram horns. All the diablos could also grow pointed tails and retract them.

 The leader sneered. “Surely you’ve heard of us. You saw our commercial, didn’t you?”

 “What commercial?” Docile asked.

 0 0 0

A large Leviathan monster opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp teeth, a long slimy tongue and a dark throat. The camera zoomed into the darkness before a red light appeared at the end of the tunnel. A bleak world with a red sky was revealed. A futuristic city in the distance was tall, black and metal: Sin City. The ground was black as was the grass. There was a pandemonium capital building not too far away along with a variety of shops set in a dystopian world: Tiamat’s Treasure Things, Kali’s Corner, Xenomorph Labs.

 No Hazbin Hotel or I.M.P headquarters to be found.

 A sign read “Diablo Den” and pointed down. The camera moved to show an underground tunnel with torches on either side. An entire subculture of demons lived down within the sewers and damp tunnels. Metal waterproof houses were situated under fluorescent lights on the ceiling. The leader popped up on the screen.

 “Salutations! I’m Erebos! Welcome to Hell! Guess you must have done something evil to get here, and evil people deserve to give enemies special cruses!”

 The jingle began, with organs playing.

 “Does it make you want to yell?” asked Devvin, the yellow ram as a man was shown getting a promotion over a man dressed in rags.

 “When an enemy ends up well?” asked Dammna the blue ram female as a rapist was pardoned from his crime.

 “Do you frown from ear to ear?” sang Erebos as a man shot at several anti-LGBTQ protestors.

 “When your rivals don’t shed a tear?” they all sang as a bully in a baseball cap laughed as a kid cowered in a corner.

 “Locked up in a rut?” sang Devvin with a pose.

 “A foe seeking your gut?” Dammna sang and posed.

 “We can make them cold and dead!” sang Erebos.

 “Even give you their head!” They all did villain poses.

 “Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as “DIABLO” appeared in bloody letters surrounded by pitchforks and the trademark icon.

 “We’re the masters of destruction from down below!” sang Devvin as Cletus shot fireballs at a barbed wire fence, allowing prisoners of war to escape. Devvin led the way as Dammna waved a flag with a pentagram and “B.U.R.E.H.C” on it.

 “Cause here at D.I.A.B.L.O.!” they sang as the logo appeared again.

  “Just name your price and we’re good to go!” sang Dammna as Erebos gave a greedy grin at a human handing him a bag of gold.

 “Spreading sickness, chaos and hate!” Devvin sang as he and Dammna gave each other a high five with their hooves.

 “History altered and fate!” sang Dammna as atomic bombs went off in reverse as clocks ran backwards and forwards.

 “We do the dirty work for you!” sang Cletus as Devvin concocted a deadly virus and dropped it on coughing humans.

 “And stirring up world wars, too!” added Devvin as Dammna whispered something in a soldier’s ear, resulting in two armies fighting on the field.

 So sit right back…” sang Erebos before they all sang in discord, “…and let us curse a soul for you!”

 “Oh, we are the D.I.A.B.L.O.!”

 “How the primal chaos shall flow!”

 0 0 0

C.H.E.R.U.B. and E.L.F. just stood there, stunned.

 Just then, Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie entered through a portal onto the grass. Moxxie was trying not to fall, while Millie safely put away Stolas’ grimoire in a small black backpack.

 “Alright gang,” called Blitzo. “Apparently someone wants us to kill that ginger-ass tour guide we saw last time. Looks like he’s at Lyle’s old house jacking off and snatching Lyle’s old possessions.”

 Millie tried not to throw up. “This world is even crazier than ours!” Then she pulled out a dark sword and brightened. “Let’s keep on killin’ then!

 “Sir, please don’t tell Lyle any of this,” Moxxie pleaded. “You know he’ll get mad if we fail this mission.”

 “Oh I already sent him a text,” Blitzo grinned, holding up his phone. The text read “Off 2 kill tour intruder. Might want 2 sell ur stuff.” Moxxie face-palmed.

 “I’m already tired and we haven’t even made it there yet,” Moxxie complained.

 “Come on Mox, get your sweet imp ass moving,” Blitzo said. “We’ll be at his house before you can say…”

 The three imps came to the clearing and froze in their tracks.

 “Holy shit,” Blitzo breathed.

 At that very moment, all twelve creatures divided in the four separate groups locked eyes with each other, some on the ground, and some in the air. The sky darkened to an abnormal shade of indigo, the ground suddenly warm to the touch. The air itself shifted from stale, to hot, to cold and back again. A strange energy crackled through the air, like any moment the earth would collapse underneath them. A stag with bloodstained antlers reared up his hind legs and raced across the forest as lightning flashed in the sky.

 From inside the mansion, the tour guide and several people gazed out the window in awe through a telescope. The smiling man had the ginger bang over his eyes and wore a green suit and cap with dollar signs on it. He spoke too casually to the group as they took pictures on their phones.

 “And now you’ll spot several groups of tacky super-powered cosplayers about to begin an apocalyptic battle! The feuds between famous people and ordinary folk is a sight to behold!”

 0 0 0

“Who. The Fuck. Are They?!” Blitzo cried out, his voice echoing.

 “Oh no!” groaned Moxxie, pointing ahead. “Those are the…”

 “Imps!” Collin cried out, all three cherubs glaring at their rivals.

 “Cherubs!” Moxxie finished.

 “Diablos?!” Tirred asked.

 “Elves!” sneered Devvin.

 The intense stare-downs could have turned the universe upside down…which for a few moments, it did.

 After several minutes of grueling silence, the first one to speak again was none other than Blitzo.

 “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on here?!”

 Cletus crossed his arms. “I’ll tell you what’s going on! Because of you three monsters,” he pointed at the imps, “We’ve been banished to Earth and are this close to meeting our doom down in your filthy world!”

 Blitzo just grinned smugly. “Welcome to Hell, baby. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

 Cletus turned red in anger. “Shut up! We may have been banished from Heaven all thanks to you, but there is no way we’re going to end up like you!”

 Erebos grinned and moved slowly toward the cherubs. “You sure about that?”

 He spoke in a bone-chilling whisper that made even Cletus forget his wrath for a moment. “It’s clear that you’ll never be allowed to return to Heaven. Why wish for something you can’t obtain anymore? The only thing you can do now…” he mentioned in the direction of the imps, “…is take back what you’ve lost.”

 Cletus glared at him. “I don’t need filthy demons to tell me what to do!”

 “Of course you don’t,” Erebos mentioned. “Your company was just trying to do the right thing. Why should you let those monsters stand in your way again?”

 “Stop!” called Docile. He flew gracefully in Cletus’ direction. “Don’t listen to that demon.”

 “You’re one too!” Cletus seethed, flinching back.

 “No, I’m an angel just like you,” Docile said. “That devil is trying to divert you away from your true path. Your company may have been banished, but you can still redeem yourselves and prove the other angels wrong! You’re already great at spreading positivity to those in need!”

 “Ha!” Millie called. “Just like how you cherubs failed to save the life of that old man.”

 “It was an accident, you emo slutty freak!” Keenie spat.

 “The past is then,” Docile continued to Cletus. “This is now. You still have time to prove your innocence. I believe there is goodness in almost everyone.”

 Collin flew up to the elf with wide shining eyes. “Y-y-you do?”

 Docile wrapped an arm around Collin. “I know it. It’s there, even when all hope seems lost.”

 Erebos snickered to Cletus. “You really gonna believe an inverted version of yourself and his subservient goblin fuck toys?”

 The cherubs and elves gasped.

 “That is so inappropriate!” Timmid called.

 “Kiss your ass, sissy,” Dammna taunted as Timmid flinched away.

 “Might wanna watch your words, blue bitch,” Millie growled to Dammna. “Just because we’re fellow demons, doesn’t mean I’ll let you pick on others like that.”

 “What’re you gonna do about it?” Dammna asked with a sneer. “Sing a murder jingle?”

 “My coworkers and I did, actually!”

 “I thought your song was very catchy!” Devvin praised.

 “Thank you!” beamed Millie. “Now get lost, wannabes!”

 But D.I.A.B.L.O. was far from done. Erebos spoke to Cletus. “Anyway…that deer cherub who kicked you out…she knew that you would fall. God doesn’t tolerate mistakes…thus those in Heaven now see you as just that, mistakes. How does it make you feel?”

 “Shut it, demon crap!” Keenie shrilled. She flew toward Erebos but Devvin held her back. She freed herself from his grip. Dammna flew beside Collin, who whimpered as she licked her lips.

 “Face it…the other cherubs wanted you three kicked out. Because you founded an illegal company that prided itself on saving human lives. You were getting famous for…not following the rules. Jealousy arose.”

 “How do you know all this?” Cletus asked.

 “We have our ways,” said Erebos. “Angels and demons going to Earth is mostly illegal…you know, changing of history, trauma and all.”

 He flew into Cletus’ face and the Cletus flinched back in disgust. Erebos made his way around Collin and Keenie as he talked. “You could’ve been good passive little sheep and stayed in Heaven. But you didn’t.” He ran a hand through Collin’s white wooly hair. “Because you wanted something more. Paradise wasn’t enough for you.”

 He grinned sinisterly at Keenie. “You were tired of being looked down upon by the more favorable members of your kind. Always searching for a way so that your…”

 He peered underneath her yellow dress, “…divine talents could be brought to light.”

 Keenie gave him a hard kick to the face, sending him back a bit. He scoffed in pain and rubbed his eye before straightening up and heading back toward Cletus. “And for a while, they did. But look where you are now. Fallen. Forgotten. Forced away from your home.”

 “He’s using you guys!” Tirred warned Cletus. “You can still protect humanity and earn God’s grace once again!”

 “No matter what you try to do, you’ll never be able to return. Becoming demons is your destiny!” Devvin said with a dark chuckle.

 “Listen to the elf angels,” Collin pleaded to his boss. “The demons are full of sin, but you know we can choose to not stoop down to their level. We can be better cherubs, improve our relations with humans.”

 “Right after we get rid of all those stinking demons!” Keenie scoffed, hands on her hips. “If we want C.H.E.R.U.B. to survive…”

 “Then I.M.P. must pay, right?” Dammna asked, finishing her sentence. Keenie found herself nodding, mouth agape.

 “Hey, we can hear you!” Moxxie yelled, drawing out his gun. He shot it upwards but the bullet was blocked by Tirred’s golden staff. The bullet rebounded away. Moxxie stared at Tirred in disgust. “Man you’re hard to look at.” Tirred just observed him coldly.

 “Forget about I.M.P.!” Timmid called to the cherubs. “Focus on redeeming yourselves. It’s the only way you can return home.”

 “Help other people for its own sake,” Docile advised. “You don’t need praise or rewards to keep doing the right thing.”

 “He’s right, Cletus,” Collin added. “Help humans move away from sin…and we will as well.”  

 “Ha!” barked Dammna. “Sin and flaws are present in everyone, even in little angels. It’s as natural as sex, eating, drinking and breathing. No one can resist the natural temptations…”

 Blitzo grinned. “I’d like to see you try and take us out,” he told Cletus. “Afraid we’ll make you a laughing stock again?” Cletus fumed.

 “I hope the Exorcists erase you from existence!” Keenie shrilled.

 Devvin appeared beside Keenie. “Why call on them, when you can plan your revenge yourself?”

 “Not gonna happen!” she yelled. Just after she said that, her halo flickered again. A small crack appeared on Cletus’ halo. Bits of feathers drifted from Colin’s wings.

 “This is not good,” Timmid whispered.

 Erebos grinned. “Only a matter of time now, cherubs! It’s time to begin your journey toward justice!”

 Back and forth, overlapping words, advice, taunts and threats pounded against Cletus. He felt like his head was being crushed by two opposing hands. Cletus grimaced, looking back and forth and around. He squinted and closed his eyes, curling into a ball.

 “The accident wasn’t your fault, boss!”

 “Help bring back C.H.E.R.U.B. to its former glory!”

 “You’re nothing but a crying baby and a failure. No wonder Heaven doesn’t want you guys.”

 “Thy company come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven…”

 “Your demonic destiny is here!”

 “Give into sin!”

 “Spread the love for here and above!”

 “ENOUGH!”

 Cletus spread out his arms and legs. The force sent many of the individuals back, but they quickly recovered. Lightning flashed in the sky as the battle began.

  Although Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie couldn’t fly like everyone else, they made up for it by their array of weapons. Blitzo fired his tan flintlock pistol, the bullets rising in the air. One bullet hit Dammna’s hoof and she hissed in pain. Another grazed Timmid’s shoulder and she cried out.

 Docile waved his hand and three golden crossbows appeared in the cherubs’ hands.

 “It’s temporary,” he warned.

 Wasting no time, Collin, Keenie and Cletus fired sparkly golden arrows from their weapons at the two demonic groups. Cletus and Blitzo fired rounds at each other, both of them expertly dodging the other’s attacks. Erebos laughed as Docile landed punches at him, which he kept blocking.

 “Just as planned,” he grinned. “What a joy it is to see C.H.E.R.U.B. and I.M.P. duke it out.” The cherubs’ faces grew more vicious as they chased after the imps.

 “Stop fighting, C.H.E.R.U.B.!” Tirred called in concern, but her words fell on ignorant ears.

 Erebos landed a punch to Docile’s face and he quickly retaliated via a well-aimed uppercut. “You won’t get away with this,” Docile spat. “I don’t want to fight any of you guys but it appears I have no choice.”

 Timmid screamed as Devvin suddenly caught her in a headlock.

 “Ha! Surrender or she’s a goner!” called Devvin. Timmid struggled in vain against his grip. Docile glared as he aimed his staff at him, debating on what to do next.

 Zing!

 An arrow from Collin’s crossbow hit Devvin in the side, sending him screaming and flying off in the distance. He flew back in anger, but Timmid had already recovered. The cherubs’ golden crossbows vanished, the group now defenseless. Moxxie, Dammna, and Millie seized the opportunity to charge in, surrounding the cherubs. Timmid, Docile and Tirred blocked the path of the demons, holding them off with their golden staffs.

 “I can’t hold them much longer,” groaned a strained Tirred to the cherubs. “Flee while you still can!”

 “We’re not leaving you behind,” Collin said, determined.

 Cletus tried to flee, but Dammna grabbed hold of him and tossed him right back with a chuckle.

 Erebos arrived and smacked Tirred’s golden staff from his hands…he punched at the diablo’s chest in response. Docile landed several kicks to Moxxie, sending him stumbling to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.

 “I’m okay!”

 Millie took out a black dagger and tossed it toward Timmid. She caught it and tossed it away. Cletus continued to dodge the bullets from Moxxie and Blitzo’s weapons. Keenie charged at full speed toward Millie’s head from behind her. She was just about to land a hard blow when…

 A large hand grabbed her by the hair…Erebos, and tossed her hard toward the ground.

 Crash!

 “Y-y-you monster!” Collin cried.

 Keenie growled as she stood up on shaking legs, wiping the dirt from her dress. With a swoop, she lifted herself up in the air before Blitzo could shoot at her. She finally rejoined Collin and Cletus…but the E.L.F. members were almost drained from the battle. The cherubs and elves stood battered and back to back against the surrounding demons.

  Lightning flashed as several pairs of the angelic and demonic warriors went head to head. Millie was slashing her sword from underneath Timmid and Keenie, who were punching Dammna and pulling her long blue hair. Keenie slapped Dammna across the face while Timmid yelped as she dodged Millie’s weapon from below. Timmid summoned an angelic harpoon and clashed with Millie. They moved in a dance, metal against metal. The point of the harpoon barely missed Millie’s head. Millie leaped onto the harpoon and raced on it with her sword in her mouth. Timmid’s eyes were wide with surprise. She flipped over Timmid, grabbed her sword and swung it in an arch, knocking Timmid down. The angelic harpoon clattered softly onto the grass. Docile made it vanish with a wave of his hand.  

 Moxxie fired his gun and hit Devvin several times. He hissed as black blood ran from parts of his legs. “Get the sheep, you idiot!”

 “I fight my own battles,” Moxxie retorted, as he dodged Collin’s punches and blasted Devvin’s revolver out of his hand with a well-aimed shot.

 Collin and Tirred shared a look, then both swooped on either side of Devvin. With two hard punches to his face, Devvin plummeted to the ground. He glared at them from below as he slowly stood up and shook his head. Tirred tossed Collin out of range of Moxxie’s bullets before he got hit himself. He gasped in pain before landing on the ground to recover. He winced and glared at Devvin. Moxxie rushed at him, but Tirred shoved him back with a force from his golden staff.

 Docile, Erebos, Blitzo and Cletus were going head to head as lightning lit up the sky around them.

 “Take this, you fucker!” Cletus yelled as he grabbed a nearby rock and threw it toward Blitzo. The rock exploded from Blitzo’s bullet. Another bullet hit one of Cletus’ wing tips, making him stumble in the air. Docile straightened the cherub with one hand as he twirled his staff against Erebos in the other. Erebos flapped his bat wings menacingly. The ground shook below as more cracks appeared. I.M.P. moved to higher ground, gazing at the red lava below in the ground. It created a demonic red glow near the ground. Black blood poured from the demons’ wounds just as white blood flowed from the angels’.

 Timmid stood up and flapped her white wings, glanced around in terror. “We have to stop fighting!” she screamed over the yells and the noises of war. “We’re going to destroy the Earth!”

 Timmid suddenly screamed as Dammna smacked her on the head from behind. She plummeted to the ground, with Keenie catching the dazed angel and carrying her to a safe spot.

   With ear-shattering yells, Cletus and Erebos rammed into each other, as did Blitzo and Docile. The leaders pushed against each other with all their might, as forces from their attacks shook the area. The demons’ horns grew longer and eyes appeared on the angels’ wings. Cletus and Docile glowed blue and white while Erebos and Blitzo glowed red and black. Docile’s harpoon spear pressed against Blitzo’s flintlock pistol. They all seethed and gave each other deadly glares.

 Before long, the cracks and forces would spread to the rest of Earth. Heaven and Hell would collapse, the Earth being the final battleground and resting place…

 The explosions knocked everyone back, sending all the creatures crashing to the ground. The forest had been burned down to timbers and steam was rising from the lake. Lyle’s mansion had been blasted apart to smithereens…yet the soot covered crowd still took pictures as the tour guide spewed his ever optimistic commentary. His hat was lopsided and he kicked broken glass away.

 “One of the Lipton family heirlooms is this golden money bag statue which was gifted to Lyle in the early 1970s. And it’s still standing…”

 The tour guide glanced down to see the statue littering the ground in pieces. “…or it was. I call dibs!”

 The battle had been an intense stalemate. And all seemed lost as the ground prepared to swallow everyone in the lava and magma.

 The dark clouds swirled in a spiral vortex before slowly parting. Sunlight shone from a circular patch of blue sky. The shaking and the yelling stopped. The cracks in the earth fused together and the world slowly got brighter like it did before. The Archangel Michael arrived from the opening, along with the cherub Deerie by his side.

 Blitzo helped up his colleagues. “I think we can call this mission a successful failure.”

 Millie supported Moxxie. “What about our target?”

 “Forget about him,” Blitzo said. “And forget about those cherubs too. They’re done for.”

 The imps looked over at the barely stirring cherubs on the ground.

 “Well, looks like we won again,” Moxxie said. “Though we really need to tone down all this fighting.”

 “Yeah, I’m tired and could really use an iced coffee right now,” Blitzo said. He took out his green “mare-juanna” horse figure and kissed it. “I knew this lucky charm would come in handy. Let’s go gang!”

 The imps grinned and high-fived before disappearing through the portal to Hell.

 Michael hovered in the air in all his glory, supported by broad white feathery wings. He had pale skin, blushes on his cheeks, and short blonde hair like his fallen brother Lucifer. A sword made of flames was tucked protectively near his belt. A glowing spiked white halo hung over his head with a crystal in the center. He wore a white suit and tailcoat, while several medals and badges shown from the front of his outfit.

 He bore a stern expression on his face as the other groups slowly recovered.

 “Four interdimensional companies fighting in the one world to cause the most damage to mortal lives. I’m ashamed at all of you. You were lucky that no more humans got hurt.” Michael briefly glared at the cherubs and diablos.

 The cherubs and elves bowed their heads in apology, while the diablos looked on.

 “I ask that all of you head back to your worlds immediately. If I ever catch you fighting here again, I’ll erase every one of you from existence. Are we clear?”

 “Yes sir,” chimed the six angels.

 “Lord Michael,” said Cletus, lifting his head. “The demonic imps have already left. And those diablos are the ones who started all this!”

 “Please Lord Michael,” said Docile. “My company came here on behalf of the importance of C.H.E.R.U.B.’s protection. I humbly ask that you reconsider their previous errors and allow them a chance to…”

 A rumbling sound was heard and cracks appeared in the ground again. Two gaping holes appeared in the ground. One of them shoot fire into the air.

 “There’s our cue,” said Devvin to his companions.

 Dammna grinned and pointed toward the cherubs. More cracks were forming underneath them, soon creating another hole. Erebos and his gang flew into the cherubs’ faces. “Have fun in the inferno!” cackled Erebos and his crew before they flew into the column of flames and down below. The ground closed over the portal and the flames disappeared.

 Deerie laughed nervously at the frightened cherubs. “Yeah, no sorry guys. I’m afraid your test on Earth has come to an end and…well, yeah there’s only one place to go now.”

 “Noooo!” the cherubs cried, huddling together.

 To the horror of the cherubs and the elves, the fallen trio was starting to change in appearance. Their white wings turned stiff and black, the last of their feathers falling to the ground. Small leathery bat wings grew in their places. Their white halos cracked and fell to pieces in front of them. Keenie frantically tried to piece hers back together. Collin gasped as he held the pieces in his hooves. The halo pieces stopped glowing, fading to a stony dark gray. Keenie buried her pale face in her hooves…hooves that were now morphing into sharp claws. She screamed out loud as she clawed at her face.

 “Lord Michael, do something!” begged Docile. But the archangel stood solemnly in the air, shaking his head.

 The cherubs’ teeth soon grew sharp and white, cutting into their tongues and making them bleed. Their outfits changed from cheery pastel colors to bold fiery reds, oranges, pinks and yellows. Cletus clutched his head in pain as two small pointed horns protruded from his ginger head. The other cherubs also cried out, clutching at their newly formed horns stained with blood.

 The ground collapsed underneath them, giving way to a deep hole with a reddish light and a portal to Hell between the rock walls. Lucifer’s curious grinning face appeared in the opening.

 The cherubs felt themselves being pulled back by a powerful force toward the portal.

 “No, no, no, no!” Cletus cried. “This can’t be happening!”

 Keenie shouted out prayers to God, begging for his forgiveness. Collin wailed and bawled as he hung onto the grass for dear life.

 Docile, Tirred and Timmid raced toward the cherubs.

 “There’s no point in rescuing them,” Deerie said, flying in front of them. “Unless you troublemakers want to join them.”

 Docile promptly punched the doe in the face before making his way toward the struggling trio.

 They each placed their right hand on the cherubs’ foreheads as light shone from their teal hands. Tirred placed his hand on Collin, Timmid’s hand was on Keenie and Docile had his hand on Cletus.

 Docile chanted in the Enochian angelic language and said: “I bless each of you with a chance to find the light. No matter where you are, it is hope you’ll never lose sight. You will find one person or more, who’ll help you along the way. And after discovering your true righteousness, you’ll return home someday. By the will of the Lord, so may it be.”

 E.L.F. removed their hands and the light faded.

 “Bye!” Deerie happily waved toward the cherubs before vanishing through the heavenly portal.

 Timmid grabbed Keenie’s hands and pulled with all her might. Keenie’s face turned pale, her yellow dress now torn in the appearance of wildfire. The helm of her dress was red and spiked, her horns now black and curved like those of Charlie’s goat bodyguards. She had black bat wings and a pointed tail. Her wooly hair was red and her eyes were pink and yellow…before they gave off a strange red glow.

 Keenie sneered at Timmid, only seeing the red face of Millie laughing at her.

 “Get away, you disgusting demon!”

 Her voice sounded like her own but more distorted.

 “I’m not…” Timmid began but Keenie slapped her in the face before falling with a scream into the portal below.

 “Keenie!” cried Collin, briefly staring down at her disappearing form. “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna die!”

 Cletus had horns and black wings as well, though his face took on more of a faint reddish tone. His overalls were red with teeth designs on the pocket. His hair was red and black and darker blushes appeared on his cheeks. His pointed tail was short and red. His eyes had red irises and golden sclera.

 He looked at Docile, only seeing Blitzo’s face. He revealed his new grin of sharp white teeth and glowing red eyes. “This isn’t over, I.M.P.!”

 Timmid and Tirred pulled with all their might, but Cletus was soon sucked in as well.

 Collin glanced at the elves with bloody tears running down his face. His eyes were golden and pink, sometimes glowing red. He had curved goat horns, a pointed tail and black bat wings. His face was almost a tan-red shade and his wooly hair was black. His outfit had changed to a red-orange.

 The three elves pulled, Tirred being supported by Docile and Timmid behind him, but Collin stayed in the same spot, his hooves dangling over the chasm.

 “Sir!” called Tirred, as the elves were dragged inches closer toward the gap, even as they dug their feet in. “We’re being sucked in!”

 “L-let go,” Collin whimpered.

 “What?!” asked Tirred.

 “You can’t let yourself fall!” Docile cried, tears welling up in his eyes. “We were supposed to save you guys…to help give you another chance…” The elves were almost at the edge.

 Collin and the elves stared at each other in the eyes.

 Collin took a deep breath as he thought of his friends.

 “I-I-I’m sorry…”

 With one last wide-eyed look, Collin let go of Tirred’s hands and vanished into the darkness. The elves weren’t getting pulled in anymore, rather they were pushed back a bit. The portal to Hell closed, and the ground in front of the elves sealed back together like nothing had happened.

 “Why?” Docile asked Michael, turning around.

 “C.H.E.R.U.B. set themselves up for their fate. They gave into their anger and were more focused on defeating their rivals instead of properly interacting with the humans. They still disobeyed the rules thus were sent to Earth to test their faiths. Alas, they gave into their selfish desires of revenge and pursuit of glory. One can now only hope that they'll redeem themselves in Hell…if they even survive that long. As for you three, remember my words of warning.”

Michael rose back into Heaven and vanished.

 The three somber elf angels slowly rose up into the air and went through another heavenly portal back to their world. Back in paradise, Docile had never felt more alone. He gazed out at the colorful clouds through a window.

 Docile didn’t even look at his coworkers. “Welp, the cherubs wanted to redeem themselves and continue their company, and we couldn’t save them. We failed. Thanks to those freaking diablos, they’re down in Hell now, so it’s a shame. All they wanted was to spread love and joy to the living world. And now, they’re separated from Heaven…potentially forever.”

Tirred grumbled. “Don’t say I told you so, but…I told you so.”

 Timmid gave her boss a small hug as the three silently gazed at the clouds and sunlight.

From behind the elves, Sully Sirius did a small grin. He whispered, “Now this would make for a spectacular tragic film, don’t you think?”

 Docile glumly turned his head all the way around, while his body stayed in place. “Please leave.” Sully looked at him and screamed in fright.

#helluvaboss #2p #heavenlyboss

[definedbywhatilove]

seven months

hey taylor! this is a little story of my journey since the last time that i let you in to my inner world... its been seven months...(feels like 20 lifetimes of growth) and two months since I moved to California and one week since I left my grandest, most divine partner in L.A to continue my journey of self discovery, self awareness, self love, and self soverignty... and i wanted to mention something important to you -- a sign, an invisable string if you will. since i was a kid, your music always followed me and described my life experiences. as i began a deep journey of self understanding, i went away from the reality that i knew (much alike your time to yourself, away from the media) last oct/november. and i let myself fall deeply, and madly in love. you know the love i'm talking about. the red love. the deeply open and vulnerable heart love, despite all past burns to the heart. the one you write poetry and songs about. i know you feel deeply self worth inside. i know that you relyed on guys to help fill that void. same as me. same as so many beautiful woman out there. giving our hearts away.. loving so damn red. but loving so: fearlessly. bravely. courageously. vulnerably. openly. you can't regret a thing, can you? and the months piled up. nine months december 27 he came to Christmass dinner ten months january 27 this is... love eleven months febuary 27 this is home 1 year march 27 this is the 1 three days after, my life came crashing down. i wake up to coughing. masks. fear. my house turned into a graveyard a grounds of fear, pain, suffering sickness. not me. her. my dads partner. someone who i thought, in my own ego, i despised. in that moment, i knew i loved. two hours. it was less than two hours that i packed two suitcases, and a heavy backpack full of everything that mattered to me. i had practised this before. countless nights isoltated in my room, pretending to pack to run away. really considering running away. but never running. it was a blur. i don't remember much. a message to stay, but the knowingness that it was my time to leave. one last goodbye. no hug. a promise. with my father. knowing he would get sick. knowing that my father, my Rock, my stable Father could very evidently get sick and die. was this a goodbye forever? i didn't know but i left. i had to leave. by some greater plan from God, or whoever is orchestrating this magical universe, my partner moved to my city by chance through the winter and I went to him. i moved in; my heart afraid of moving in with somebody that i love because love had only ever hurt me. i moved in with my partner and allowed my dad the space to go through his own conscious awakening. thirteen months WILL HE DIE? i prayed everyday. i surrendered. i released the outcome. i surrendered to my partner and the relationship and accepted a deeper love than i have ever experienced during this time. i started my business. really, started my business. i started it in december but I didn't really know if I would ever get to see my dad again. through the fall and winter he provided for me whilst i recovered from being sick [reoccuring during fall/winter, peak in sept. same thing i felt during my journey in 2018]. how will i live as an adult on my own? provide for myself? what if he dies? i make my first 2k month. i surrender to love. i meet nature. fourteen months i called him for the first time. my dad. it was so painful to hear him speak. he was still sick. i began to slowly give grounded, healing advice. affirmations. colors. introduced the law of attraction. helping him know that his physical body was sick because his mind was sick of negativity. i move into my first apartment with my partner. its beautiful. he pays the rent. i get the entire room, he takes the living room. i was provided for. i continued my business. i held strong visions of travelling with my partner before the lease was up in august. it was my lifelong dream. i prayed for my dad and his partner. sitting in nights of fear and pain. letting go. trusting. rebuilding. health. NATURE. LOVE. date nights. park visits. lake visits. fifteen i saw my dad and his partner! in person! june 6, the first time since march 30. i went with my partner. i was nervous. i also get to see my cat ~~ who has always had siezures, that got even worse when they were sick... who i also had to let go of, not knowing if would survive.. but did! i gave him healing crystals. healing tips. love. hope. he opened. my dad whos heart was closed cracked open. i had never seen this mans heart open since i was a little child before my mom broke his heart. he left his job, you know. when i was a kid i was neglected for that job. one that i had to go to school too many times when i didn't feel because of. one that kept him gone late nights once a week. one that drained him. but the job that supported me physically and financially through my entire life. the job that helped give me a good life ~ his time and energy he gave into this job to provide for his daughter. he realized what it was doing to him. he realized, taylor. he realized. he got a new job. two hours away, a small county on the lake. a chance to start over. leave the karmic city he lived in. he also began to feel his emotions from what happened with the trauma of my mother. this was a miracle. a miracle. a miracle. and so, he would move away... starting his new job during the sixteenth month of this journey, july 13 i know at this point i will be travelling soon and leaving anyways, but could not leave my dad... and so the universe had him leave to set me free. i spent the rest of the month knowing he would move away, and likely i would too. but where? i saw him many times. gave him reiki too. we all went to the cottage together, him, his partner, me, and mine. summer solstice. peace. love. sixteen months i released all of my limitations. i chose love, abundance, freedom, health, bliss. i released my dad, my cat, my childhood home... [never grow up describes this situation]... a 21st birthday, really, a goodbye to my family... i booked a plane ticket. a month and a week to California. knowing, that it would be longer than that one month and a week. myself and my partner. one carry on and personal item. my self soverignty. my dreams. my abundance [first five figure month!!!] i left taylor. i left behind the city i always lived in to follow my dreams and passion. i'm living in my dream location. mountains. forests. lakes. a sacred site in Nor Cal. a childhood dream, if you will. a new life begins the night before i leave i see that you had an album out. folklore. i didn't know, because i had been going through so much stuff within my life that anything that happened online was not present in my life. i listened to caridgan for a few seconds. didn't feel right. i let you go...[knowing, like always, your music will come to me at the exact right time] i got on the plane. three layovers. an overnight train. i begin my new life on the mountain. begin again. seventeen months i am not the same. i have grown. i have healed. my time in the mountain has been the most groundbreaking, expansive, philisophical, healing time of my entire life. feeling like one month was twenty lifetimes of healing and growth. healing all of my childhood wounds, fears, pains. being of service in my business, providing healing for over 55 people. but... it was here where it started to break apart. that one last thing. i let go of the home. the cat. the family. the stuff. there was 1 more thing to let go of... eighteen months kyle, was his name you know. and of course, when we are hurt we go into the victim mindset right away. it is instinct. predetor and prey. it is conditioned into us. this time, after completing a cycle of 3 relationships of emotional manipulation, disrespect, not being loved the way i loved... i took full ownership for it. for manipulating MYSELF. for disrespecting MYSELF. for not loving MYSELF the way I love another. thats when the relationship healing and karma happens. when you take complete ownership for your own mistreatment knowing that this person was simply a mirror of the own hate, anger, and fear you have about yourself. it happened on september 2nd, under the full moon. it started, anyways. i was called to l.a out of Nor Cal. With him. and we Went. This is where the fun part starts, the intention behind this entire story but we're only getting to it right now because of course, I am a writer. The main message has to be supported by a story, right? on september 6th, we had a midnight train. i wanted to listen to music to help me release leaving the city i was living in in Nor Cal, cuz I had grown fairly attached to it. cardigan came into my life. [which i realize as i am writing this and listening to it, the version i have always listened to is the cabin one,... which I am just seeing you realeased on my birthday!!!! july 30th. how interesting] it fell into place this night. and i was meant to hear it now; your music has always been like a spirit guide to me. always a message when i need it. we had a midnight train. my partner got a nosebleed on the way...[stepping on the last train, marked me like a blood stain...] i knew in my heart we would be breaking up... the day before the flight to l.a, the day before the fires, i knew we would be breaking up in l.a. the night that invisable strings was introduced into my life, via my dear soul friend Emma. i knew that this song spoke of my memories and experiences with l.a. l.a was always a place for me to find self empowerment, bravery, and self worth. being the place that i endured my first break up in, l.a taught me self love. i knew that an invisable string was bringing me back to l.a, and really... back to [myself]. despite knowing what was to happen, i held myself through the flight to l.a. it's not like we officially broke up that day, but i knew going on this flight that since i was facing my biggest fears in real life that i would be about to experience my fear of being alone. i flew the day that san fransisco was orange. tiny little 13 row plane. deep fear of planes. in a moment of deep intuition and love, i opened my heart to hold space for the people on the plane that were also terrified of the fires and landing somewhere that was orange. holding people, holding space, through what could be seen on an Earthly scale as a trauma. moving past my own fears and negative thoughts and holding the emotions of love and safety. it was a big moment for me. i listened to invisable strings dyuring the plane ride. and two days later was when my fire happened. september 11 is when we officially broke up.. when i chose to stand up for myself, for my own love + respect, when i knew that i had to leave a toxic and co-dependent relationship... you know, i thought a tsunami was going to happen that day or something and i was going to die. i literally thought this was what was going to happen; but the death that happened was not physical, but the death of a relationship. we were in l.a until the 18th, in the same apartment, trying our best to go through our breakup while living with eachother. still getting groceries together [chasing shadows in the grocery line]... i could barely function. i know you know what co-dependent relationships can get like. beginning to function on your own without the love from them is hell. [cue. this is me trying] having a hard time adjusting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! letting go of this love. knowing i need to leave. we were in l.a until the 18th, in the same apartment, trying our best to go through our breakup while living with eachother. still getting groceries together [chasing shadows in the grocery line]... the ocean took me down; pulled my knee out. the day after telling my partner i need to do everything on my own and we be completely separate whilst living in this apartment together for at least a week. knowing we likely would stay till oct.my bodies way of still needing to rely on him. coping mechinisms. breakdowns. [pouring my heart out to a stranger, but i didn't pour the whiskey...] (This lyric. After my first relationship, I turned to alcohol. I got very dependent on this, and this runs in my family. It took me until a significant event at a party in 2017 for me to stop, i know you know what i mean. So it was a big deal for me, despite all temptations, to not turn to alcohol). i knew i had to leave l.a our host was offering us to stay until oct 1. i was 100% sure i was, despite living in the apartment with kyle, through breakup [not your typical i hate u breakup tho, one of deep love and mutual, conscious respect and love for eachother] going to stay. esp with how my body was, and my knee. and... if i went back home to Nor Cal, I knew i'd be going alone. And I knew my partner couldn't financially sustain himself at the time to stay anywhere other than back home. I knew he would have to quarentine for 14 days. I knew that by making this decision I would be completely cut off from him. i went to cancel our flight back to Nor Cal. 34 hours before. i was going to stay and stay in a place with a man who didn't have enough self love and worth yet to be able to love me properly. and then it happened. continue to financially support him. continue to love him uncontiionally. and then... sept 16 11:30pm the last excuse. the last invalidation. the last disrespect. the last act of hatred. the last act of emotional manipulation. the last time the gas light would ever turn on. i do not cancel my flight. i walked away. i chose myself. i messaged everybody that i knew to ask for help and support. i knew that this would be the hardest thing I ever had to do. i had to walk away from whom i know on a soul level to be my husband. i know. i know. i know. i know when we have both healed we will come back together in harmonious union; our relationship was all about growing. but it was time to grow apart, in order to grow back together with a stable individual foundation. the last day was magic. it was a new moon. santa monica beach. sunset. shopping. swimming. we allowed ourself to have a night of love. we knew that this was at the basis of our connection; true, undying, eternal, uncondtional love. we will always love each other in a deeper way than can be described in words. no painting, song, piece of poetry could describe this love. and it was painful. painful to love so deeply and openly and vulnerabily, knowing that come 6am I would be headed to the airport It was the most open and vulnerable I have ever been. Allowing myself to openly love so deeply despite knowing what was to come in just some short hours. I really poured my heart out. I opened up. I was vulnerable. I was my true self. And it was one of the best nights of my life, September 17th in Santa Monica, under the New Moon. we stayed up together all night holding each other. sharing a few last kisses. talking about our favourite memories each month of our relationship [i know they said the end was near...] we didn't sleep all night. the alarm went off, 4:50am. time to go. i packed everything the night before. i tied up my lose ends. we held eachother deeply. the final alarm went off, 5:10am. the pink sunrise in the uber on the way to the airport. the way that he didn't cancel his flight to go through security with me. not getting a coffee to spend every last second with him. and we sat in the airport and cried our hearts out. holding each other. crying. in front of anyone who cared to see. knowing one hour before boarding i had to take myself to the bathroom so that i could cry and prepare myself to fly [note: hopefully the airport worker knew we were gunna be okay] 7:48am, i knew the alarm was going to go off in two minutes. i take my power back and stand up, turning the alarm off. i said i have to go now or I will not get on the flight. i tell him he needs to walk away first. i can't do it. no. i'll feel abandoned. i have to be the one. i hugged him. one time. i said goodbye. i wished him well. i told him i love him. i put my backpack on. i get my stuff together. one last hug... one last kiss... and i pulled away. i walked away from the man that i know one day will be my husband and the father to my children to follow my own path of self discovery and worth and love. of healing. walking up to the airline worker, telling her my partner would not be coming on the flight with me. "okay, Miss, i will remove him from your party and from the flight," i held myself together. i did. the best i could. good thing i didn't sleep because that kept me at least less emotional and breaking down than i thought i would be. "now boarding flight xxxx to Sacramento, boarding rows 10-13..." i got myself on the plane. i couldn't believe i was doing this. how am i doing this? i knew when i sat in my seat and the plan began to prepare for departure, that i was completing a cycle of three. a cycle of relationship karma that began with my first, where we broke up on my birthday, 2016 in l.a... completing a cycle where i base my worth on another person, depend on another person, allow myself to get walked over... it was done. i asked that when i took off into the sky from the plane, the perfect line of the perfect song was playing... when i first had my breakup in l.a 2016, i was at a play to support my friend and actress. in this play, she sang a song called brave. this song, and message, got me through my first breakup. she was my rock and i swear the reason i made it through the night of that. l.a 2018, she wrote brave for a tattoo for me. we stopped talking for a while; i learned to be brave for myself. l.a 2020, the moment the plane takes off of the ground... [wool to BRAVE the seasons...] the moment you sang brave; the plane took off. a rush of feeling so proud for myself. knowing i chose me. knowing i chose a journey of self love. knowing i chose a journey of self worth. knowing i chose a journey of self empowerment. i sit here in my soul sister's apartment whilst she is cross-country, writing this. one week after i got back to Nor Cal. One week since my entire life shifted. And I am in the journey. The journey to self love, confidence, worth, empowerment, etc is not just a destination. There is a journey behind it all. It happens to contain a lot of crying. A lot of feeling. Some music. Friends. Good food. A warm coffee from the local coffee shop. Candles. Insence. Journal(S). Rest. Yoga. Meditation. Qigong. Reiki. Fuzzy socks. Oversized fluffy sweaters. Soft blankets. Stuffed animals. Books. Singing bowls. Love. And so, this is where I am. September 25th, seven months later. Wow. Writing this journey out and putting it on paper really makes me feel some things. It makes me feel fucking empowered. It makes me feel strong. It makes me feel brave. It makes me feel fearless. It makes me feel vulnerable. It makes me feel authentic. And with all authenticity, I had to be authentic with myself when I began to write this. Your music has been that constant. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Everything has always left my life but your music has always stayed. Your music has always found me in the right time in the right place. It has always supported me. You have always supported me. I was thinking back today, in a state of elevated joy allowing myself to feel happy that I got the opportunity to meet you through my life journey so far. And that... us meeting had to mean something. There is an invisable string there. There has to be a reason that during all of this your music was there for me. There has to be a reason it came to me in the time that it did. There is a reason for everything. So I write this, with a prayer that you will see this, but a surrender to the knowingness that what is meant to happen is going to happen. Also, a surrender to if anybody actually reads this! This is who I am, raw, vulnerable, authentic. I will always speak my truth, share my journey, and love Taylor Swift. Don't we all? Taylor, if you are reading this... from my soul to yours; thank you. thank you. thank you. seriously, for what you give up to be able to spread these messages via your music in such a global way. i completely see and understand what you have given up to do this. i love you. i love you. i love you. thank you for seeing me. thank you for hearing me. thank you for acknowledging me. thank you for validating me. thank you for loving me. see you next update, your friend Sarah.

#fortaylor #for taylor #messages to taylor #from my heart

[rebelsofshield]

Star Wars: The Clone Wars: “ The Bad Batch”-Review

Seven years since its cancellation and six since the final episodes aired, Star Wars: The Clone Wars makes its final triumphant return on Disney+. Beginning this twelve episode conclusion is a familiar story to fans of the series that has been brought to thrilling new life. It may not be a series best, but The Clone Wars fans will be more than pleased with “The Bad Batch.”

(Review Contains Episode Spoilers)

The Republic defense of the shipyards of Anaxes have taken a turn for the worse. Separatist forces led by Admiral Trench have updated their tactics and are outpacing clone forces before they can react. Captain Rex has a theory, that Trench’s forces have somehow gotten hold of his battle playbook developed alongside deceased ARC trooper Echo. In the hopes of proving this theory and potentially changing the tide of the campaign, Commander Cody and Rex propose a behind enemy lines stealth mission, which will be assisted by experimental clone force 99, aka “The Bad Batch.”

Wow. On just a purely personal level, watching and reviewing a new episode of The Clone Wars is a surreal experience. Reviewing episodes of the series is how I became a Star Wars blogger and even when we first heard the series was returning in 2018, I still didn’t fully believe that we would be getting new episodes. Yet here I am, in 2020, watching a brand new (sort of) episode of The Clone Wars and the show doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that it’s been gone for over half a decade. Tom Kane voice over, fortune cookie, triumphant ending credits fanfare, it’s all there. In all its goofy, beautiful, and wonderfully strange glory. The Clone Wars is back for one last time. Just wow.

I’ll admit I was initially a little disappointed that one of the three arcs we would be receiving in the final Clone Wars season would be “The Bad Batch.” The unfinished story reels were a fun experience, but as a whole, even with some of the plot twists that will come in later episodes, this arc was never really a favorite of mine. Yes, I love clones and getting to see more clone episodes is always a joy, but I was hungry for new stories and it was hard not to see a redeveloped “Bad Batch” as taking away from any number of other Clone Wars plots that never saw the light of day such as the ever elusive Cad Bane/Boba Fett arc.  

Boy was I underestimating just how much this animated glow up would add to this story though. In its final seasons, The Clone Wars was undeniably some of the best looking television on the airwaves and now with production assets that are helped by a robust and experienced studio and seven years of technological advancement, the result is truly stunning. However, it’s not just that the show looks prettier, The Clone Wars is now a more confident and stylistically directed show then it’s ever been.

“The Bad Batch” ends up having two real stars. The obvious one is Dee Bradley Baker who once again gets to flex his voice acting muscles. Baker proved early on into the series’ run that he was more than able to carry entire episodes on his own by voicing ensemble casts of almost a dozen near vocally identical characters and giving them unique personalities and traits. Baker does more heavy lifting here since season four’s classic Umbara story arc and the results are no less impressive.

The second star is director Kyle Dunlevy. Dunlevy worked on many classic episodes of The Clone Wars and “The Bad Batch” may be his most assured stylistically. In addition to the improvement in animation quality, The Clone Wars in its final seasons was really beginning to experiment with creative shot composition and cinematography. I think most often of the stellar sequence in “The Unknown” which follows a single clone officer cowering from a droid invasion. Dunlevy takes this and ups it, delivering outstandingly shot action sequences and even some outstanding tracking sequences that feel more intimate and cinematic than almost anything the series has ever pulled off, or any Star Wars animated show for that matter.

I may be talking a lot about the technical aspects of “The Bad Batch” and that may be that at the end of the day, they prove to be the most impressive parts. As a narrative, “The Bad Batch” is pretty standard Clone Wars fare. Undeniably fun and explosive at times, but there isn’t quite anything here that massively strays outside some of the shows traditional formula.

In a way, it’s interesting to see that many of The Clone Wars’ old storytelling shortcomings are very much on display. The anthologized seasonal structure allowed for many things in the series’ original run such as a sprawling cast and freedom to tell stories of widely different tones and genres. However, The Clone Wars always struggled as a result in being a serialized story. Sure, events from some arcs would undoubtedly influence others, but the sort of stop and start nature of the show lead to many moments where character and story arcs disappear or burst into existence with surprising frequency.

This is very much the case with “The Bad Batch.” At its heart, “The Bad Batch” is two clone related stories. One, a narrative of clones coming to accept diversity within their own community and another in Rex having to grapple with the loss of so many brothers over the war. The second is the most emotionally interesting and engaging as Rex is easily the most war weary character the show has at this point and in a way has always functioned as something of a mouthpiece for the clones as a whole. However, Brent Friedman and Matt Michnnovetz’s script makes some logical swerves here that end up feeling surprisingly hollow. Having Rex mourn his clone brothers makes sense and its direction at some specific clones such as Fives, whom he worked closely with in multiple episodes, feels emotionally appropriate. It’s the focus on Echo and even more oddly, Hevy, that feels odd. Echo and Rex certainly appeared in tandem in multiple episodes but the only time the two really appeared as equals was in the Citadel arc where the character perished. We don’t understand Rex’s emotional connection to Echo because it was never really established in past episodes and we have no cues to fall back upon. The work done here to build context for their relationship, both professionally and emotionally, can’t help but feel a little stilted. Regardless, Baker is still able to sell Rex’s hurt and longing for hope with the right resonance and it helps carry us through these rough patches.

Also, on a very basic level, The Bad Batch are just a really fun bunch of characters. At the moment they fit a little too cleanly into various archetypes: the brutish dumb clone, the cool and badass tracker, the silent sniper, the nerdy tech, but they are fun archetypes. Their designs are creative and vivid. Baker has a hell of a time voicing them. The action with these characters is, as mentioned before, enjoyably creative and visceral. Having classic clones like Jesse and Kix get to butt heads and also grow to appreciate these new clones is a fun and upbeat little story beat for a story that’s otherwise about the lingering trauma of war. Also, Jesse got a promotion and Kix let his hair grow out! Good for them. I hope nothing bad happens to them and their futures remain Sith free.

It’s overall just a joy to have The Clone Wars back, hiccups and all. It’s a special piece of the Star Wars franchise and it’s going to be great to have it in our lives again for a few months. I can’t wait to blast more clankers alongside you all.

Score: B+

#Star Wars #The Clone Wars #Clone Wars #Star Wars: The Clone Wars #review #reviews #Captain Rex #The Bad Batch

[el-gilliath]

It’s All in a Hat

Otherwise known as Five times Michael told people off when they touched his hat and one time he didn’t Also known as the fic I wrote @christchex to show her my undying love and gratitude for being who she is.

And also completely written because of this post by @monluna-dreamer

Small note of warning for Wyatt Long being a class a racist douchebag

1. Michael’s hat is a no go zone. Everyone knows this, and everyone respects it, because if they so much as lay a finger on the black cowboy hat Michael will either a) tear you a new one or b) outright punch you. 

Liz Ortecho, however, has been gone from Roswell for ten years, and as she wasn’t there when Michael got the hat, she doesn’t know just how attached he is to it. Which is why she casually picks it up one night they’re in the Pony and starts to look at it, turning it in her hands to look at the seams and inside, frankly curious about the hat that spends so much time on Michael’s head.

“Where did Mikey get this hat?” She looks up, looking for someone to answer her but instead freezes at the way they’re all looking at her in shock. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because, Ortecho,” Michael says behind her. He does not sound pleased. “There’s three rules about the hat.”

“Oh?”

“One, don’t ever touch the hat.” He plucks it out of her fingers and places it on his head. “Two, don’t make any kind of remarks about the hat. And three, don’t ask about the hat.”

Her eyes follow him as he turns around and walks out of the Pony. From the look on Isobel and Maria’s faces this behavior when it comes to the hat isn’t new, though Max looks like he’s slightly annoyed. Probably because Michael just left when they were there to discuss important things. 

“He’s not kidding, Liz. Don’t ever mess with the hat.”

She looks at Max. “Why, though?”

“We don’t know,” Isobel replies. “He never told us where it came from. Just that it’s sacred.”

Her voice turns nasal when she says the word sacred. Liz frowns at that but doesn’t say anything. Maria just looks pensive. Like she has an idea but doesn’t want to share for her own peace of mind. Liz is curious, maybe one day she’ll get the story. Until then; point taken. 

2. Kyle Valenti likes to use the same excuse, he hasn’t been in Roswell for ten years so he doesn’t know things. Never mind that his mother is the sheriff and keeps him apprised on all things Roswellian, no matter if he wants to or not, he will still live by the “I didn’t know” if he can. Luckily for him he’s charming enough that it usually works when he does do something wrong.

Of course there’s people that don’t buy it. Arturo is one, Alex the second, and Rosa the third. Isobel will give him the benefit of the doubt if in a good mood, Liz is to kind not to believe him, Maria just shakes her head and Max just frankly doesn’t care.

Then there’s Michael Guerin, who sees through all kinds of bullshit Kyle talks about, so much so that Kyle has started to test the limits of what he can get away with. He’s tried it with cars, he’s tried it with alcohol, he tried it with the Evans siblings(which did not go well) and he’s tried it with the Airstream. The number is currently 0-1 in Guerin’s favor, but he still tries. He likes the challenge.

He decides to try it with the hat, because he’s had a few beers to many, sitting at the junkyard with Alex, Guerin is being a broody shit, and he’s bored without any alien shenanigans to deal with. Which is something he never thought he would think.

“Hey, Guerin, what’s actually up with the hat?”

“None of your beeswax, Valenti,” is the reply he gets. Rude.

“No, tell me, what’s up with it?” He asks as he reaches out a hand towards the hat on Michael’s head. He doesn’t expect the mighty punch he receives to the shoulder. “Ow! What the fuck, Guerin?”

“Kyle.” The disapproval in Alex’s voice is enough to let him know how much of a brat he’s being.

“Sorry, Guerin.”

“Whatever, Valenti.” He knows Guerin isn’t done being pissed off, but he still hands him a beer so he guesses he’s sort of forgiven. For now.

He realizes he’s wrong when he gets up to pee about 15 minutes later and he falls over because his shoelaces are tied together, to Guerin’s roaring laugh and Alex’s coughing that means he’s trying to hide a laugh. Stupid telekinesis.

3. Wyatt Long is a douchebag, it’s known, it’s heard, it’s just a fact of life. He’s a white privilege, New Mexico 1st born son of the worst caliber, who spews racism like it’s fact, slurs like they have meaning, offence like it’s the law, be it against latinx, black or native people. He doesn’t care who he hurts, who he offends, who hates him.

What he does care about is who he hates, and Michael Guerin is on the near top of that list, just underneath Max Evans.

Stupid fucking Michael Guerin, who runs around like he owns Roswell in that stupid, fucking black cowboy hot.

Only good, proud, ranger sons like Wyatt should be allowed to wear hats like that. That Michael Guerin, whore and drunk that he is, runs around in one is a disgrace.

One night in the Pony, Wyatt decides to do something about that after a bourbon of eight. Guerin is sitting at the bar as usual, flirting with the DeLuca chick. She’s hot as fuck, but a bartender is beneath his standards. Even if he would like to fuck her to check if she’s up to par.

“Hold up guys, I’mma get Guerin’s hat,” he tells his group of friends, grinning as they holler and yell after him as he walks up to the bar. He might be a little unsteady, but who the fuck cares.

“What do you want, Long?”

“Well I could always do with a night in your bed, gorgeous,” he replies, giving DeLuca his most winning smile. The look of disgust on her face just fuels the rage, as does the snort Guerin lets out. “What, you think you’re so much better than me, Guerin? At least I have a house, not a tin can.”

“That the best you can do, Long? Cause that’s just sad, I happen to like my tin can, and guess what, so does Maria.”

Wyatt completely misses DeLuca’s hissed out “Guerin!” Or Guerin cringing at the tone in her voice. All he can hear is the angry rush of blood in his ears. 

“The fuck do you have this hat for anyway, Guerin? You ain’t no fucking ranger and you don’t fucking deserve to wear it.” He picks up the black hat and crunches his fingers around the top of it. 

He doesn’t realize he’s been punched until he’s already falling backwards with a hell of a pain in his nose, his head this close to smacking into the ground as he lands, hard. He can already feel the blood starting to gush from the broken nose. 

“You wanna talk smack about where I live, go right on ahead. But don’t you ever fucking touch the hat, or question why I wear it, Long.”

He’s too busy trying not to cry from the pain to notice as Michael steps over him, hat on his head, and leaves into the night. 

4. Maria DeLuca is not a woman who doesn’t know herself. She has far to much of a psychic ability for that, has had far to many struggles in her life for that and has sacrificed too many things for that. She knows who she is inside and out, she knows what she’s worth and she knows that she deserves. She doesn’t have to fool herself into anything. Even if she did, her ability wouldn’t let her for long. Most times it’s a gift, sometimes it’s a curse.

“You’re never gonna let me touch it, are you?”

She knows it’s the wrong question when Michael leers, drunkenly, at her. “Gorgeous, you can touch it any time you want.”

“Your hat, Guerin.”

She watches him quickly pick up the hat from the bar, putting it into his lap instead of anywhere near she can reach from behind the bar. It’s all the answer she needs, isn’t it. 

“Maria-“

“Don’t.” She smiles at him, a small smile she knows is full of sadness. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Michael answers. His eyes, though drunk, mirrors her sadness. It makes her feel a tiny bit better because she knows they both do want this to work, in their own way. 

“Yes, it is. You can’t help how you feel.” The words Liz told her echoes in her head. She knows Michael likes her, truly likes her, but she can never compete with Alex. And while she knows Alex is fine with Michael and her, she doesn’t know how fine she is by always coming in second place. Even if Michael chose her out in the world, she’s very rarely first in his head. “Did he give you the hat?”

Michael just looks at her. She won’t be getting a reply any time soon. For some reason, she’s okay with that. Maybe because she knows it would hurt more if he did.

“If there’s any woman in the world I would let touch the hat, it would be you.”

She surprises herself by laughing. For Michael Guerin that’s the perfect endearment and she adores him for it. Especially since she feels how much he means it. 

“I need some time.”

Michael nods, unsurprised but still saddened by it. “Text me, yeah?”

Maria nods in reply, maintaining a smile on her face as Michael, and the iconic hat, leaves her bar. It’s only when the door closes behind him that she lets herself feel the sadness of what could have been. 

5. Arturo Ortecho is used to tourists. It’s the one big thing you have to deal with owning a diner in New Mexico, but as they are his biggest revenue stream, he doesn’t mind them. In fact he welcomes them gladly, with his alien themed menus, alien themed outfits and antennas. He loves their ooo’s and their aaa’s, he loves giving them genuine mexican cuisine that they all seem to enjoy, he loves his old jukebox with silly old songs that adults fawn over and children thinks are stupid. He loves it all.

The only thing he might have a slight issue with is when they come in and don’t respect other people’s property. He’s far to used to people trying to destroy the diner after… But he doesn’t negotiate when it comes to leaving his other customers things alone.

“You should leave that hat alone before the owner sees you,” Arturo says with a look at the three teens who are now frozen by Michael’s hat, one of their hands reaching out towards it. “He doesn’t take kindly to it being touched, a true cowboy never does. The hat is what makes the man, you would do well to remember that.”

The kids look from the hat to him, to the antenna on his head (which is fair), before they nod respectfully, leaving it alone and walking back to their seats. Funny, it’s been a while since anyone nodded respectfully to him. Especially kids. 

“Thanks, Mr. Ortecho.”

“Bah.” He turns towards Michael, who’s coming out of the kitchen wiping his hands. “You fix my fridge?”

“Needs a new part, but I got one at the junkyard so I’ll be back later.”

“Good. Take some meatloaf with you when you go, you’re too skinny.”

He doesn’t need to see Michael to know he’s smiling as he picks up the meatloaf, and the hat, on his way out the door. He’s a good boy, that one. 

+1 “Has anyone besides you ever worn or even touched the hat, Michael?” Isobel asks, one night as the entire group sit in her living room, bottles of tequila and bourbon cluttered on her living room table. They’ve been celebrating life, just because they can, just because everyone is alive and just because they want to.

“Why is everyone so damn curious about the damn hat? It’s just a black cowboy hat.”

Maria snorts. “That’s a damn lie and you know if. You start fights over that hat. You punched Wyatt Long so hard he broke his nose over the hat.”

Michael sighs, and looks down on the floor. “Long deserved it.”

“Long deserves a lot of things. But he’s not the first you’ve punched over it,” Max interjects, giving Michael a look when he looks up from the floor.

“Come on Mikey, just tell us,” Liz says, pouting as Michael’s gaze swings over to her. His eyes does the round after that, from Isobel, Kyle, Rosa, Maria, Jenna, Max and finally landing on Alex. Alex doesn’t do anything but smile encouragingly. Because Alex Manes, last son of Jesse Manes, current Captain of the United States Air Force, resident of Jimmy Valenti’s cabin in Roswell, New Mexico, is the only one, besides Michael, who knows the origin story of Michael’s hat. No one has ever asked him if he knows and he would never tell anyone.

“Oh my god, Alex knows?” Isobel asks, shock and delight on her face. They all look curious now, even Maria, who’s been the biggest advocate of them figuring out their shit since her and Michael broke up.

Michael smiles, and gives Alex a small nod. Guess he is telling someone after all. “Of course I know. I bought him the hat.”

There’s silence for a second, before questions hurtle at them from everyone in the room. How and why and when but Alex and Michael doesn’t answer any of them, they just look at each other and smile, remembering a dusty, hot weekend in Kansas when Alex was on leave. A weekend without cares, without fear and without worry, where Alex found the perfect black cowboy hat while out buying sustenance, and brought it back to their motel room. A weekend that like all others ended on a sad note, but was perfect the way it was.

“Does he let you wear it?”

Both Alex and Michael look at Jenna, before they turn back to one another. A second later the black cowboy hat floats from the hallway and lands on Alex’s head. It’s still a bit big on him, but it still makes him smile.

“Yeah, I do.”

They only have eyes for each other, as the room explodes in a symphony of joyous noise.

#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin #the hat #malex fic #liz ortecho #kyle valenti #maria deluca #arturo ortecho #alex manes #mentions miluca #christi is a gift and as such she deserves gift #i hope you like it

[bestillmyslashyheart]

when a soul breaks

He told himself it was research but really it was just torture. Self imposed torture which was honestly the worst.

Alex sighed and clicked play. He was sad enough and drunk enough and in enough pain that he didn’t quite care that each new movie made the ache in his soul hurt just a little bit more. It was worth it for the incremental hope they gave him that things wouldn’t always be this way.

Saturday passed in a haze as Alex burrowed deep into the bed, sheets and blankets and sweatshirts wrapped around him as he watched movie after movie.

Sunday was almost the exact same albeit with a moment of terror when a car pulled up outside. Alex spent one breathless minute trying to figure out how he would explain himself if he was caught before the car drove away. He hadn’t even had it in him to look outside and see who it was.

Monday morning he set an alarm for well before dawn. When it went off, he forced himself to ignore the dark sky and the chill in the air and throw off the many blankets piled around him. The lethargy was harder to shake. It took almost twice as long as it might normally take for Alex to attach the prosthetic, get dressed, and tidy up. In the end, as he was rushing out to his car, he was grateful for the extra early alarm: Sanders’ opened in just under half an hour and Michael was due back any second. If Alex didn’t vacate the scrapyard before then, Michael just might wonder what the hell Alex was doing sleeping in his Airstream.

Alex would strongly prefer to put that conversation off until never.

---

All the stories and the folk tales and the goddamn Disney movies tell it the same way: soulmates are a rare breed but effervescent in their beauty and their reverence. Some, much older, tales talk of two people who are born to be together, as if divined by God or some other higher power. The Ancient Greeks spoke of people as if each person were only half of a completed whole. Modern day stories focus on the choice of it all. Where before, people believe their soulmates were chosen for them, new research has shown that really, a soul bond is a choice. An almost entirely subconscious choice but a choice nonetheless. Every romance (Disney, Nicholas Sparks, whoever else wants to make a buck off of the phenomenon) shows two people so hopelessly, deeply in love with each other that their souls join together and bind them to the other for life. It’s always nearly unbearably romantic.

And it’s all fucking crap.

Alex has watched more of those movies than he’d care to admit recently and they all said the same thing and none of it was real. Somehow, some way, it never occurred to anyone that a soul bond is technically a one way street. When a person falls so deeply in love with another that they truly cannot imagine themselves without the other, a piece of their soul splinters off and attaches itself to the other. It creates a bond between the two that cannot be severed, not even in death. What is never discussed is that this doesn’t happen both ways, not usually. Even in pairings where the bond is reciprocal, the people involved never bond at the same time. There is always a period where a person is bonded to another, their soul fragmented. 

No one ever talks about what it’s like to live with only half your soul.

Alex imagines it’s because no one wants to think about what exactly that means. Which, he can relate. He too would really rather not think about what it means. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get that luxury.

He’s discovered that losing part of your soul is not such an easy thing. It creates a bond to the other person, yes, but it doesn’t actually do anything. Without the other person’s knowledge or involvement, Alex doesn’t sense emotions or thoughts and he sure as hell can’t communicate telepathically. Every single ‘bonus’ of a soul bond that he’s ever heard about doesn’t apply to one sided bonds. What does apply? Is an ache in his very soul that never goes away. 

In the five weeks since Caulfield exploded and took half of Michael’s family with it, since Michael said they would talk and then ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction, Alex has tried to piece together what happened. So far, all he knows is that his decision to stay in a building about to explode, simply so he wouldn’t have to live without Michael, tore his soul in half and the other half bound itself to Michael. He knows that Michael is entirely unaware of this development. And he knows that the separation between the two of them is literally tearing his soul to bits. Michael has only been in the same room as him twice since then and both times it was with everyone else there as well. The second Alex tried to speak to him alone Michael just said, “I can’t do this with you, Alex. Not now. Not anymore,” and drove away. But those precious few seconds where Michael was close enough to touch, Alex could feel the halves of his soul reaching out for each other, trying to knit itself back together. Each time Michael left, his soul ripped again.

None of the Disney movies (or Nicholas Sparks or whoever) has had any answers for Alex. Soulmates are rare enough that there’s almost no research on them except what has gone into popular media. Which, surprise surprise, does not include the painful part of the phenomenon.

Alex has tried to soothe the ache in his soul by surrounding himself with Michael’s things whenever possible (made easier by the fact that Michael apparently doesn’t actually live at his Airstream anymore. He tries not to think about where exactly he might be living these days) but it’s effects are limited. Cuddling Michael’s sweater for hours is nothing compared to what it felt like to stand next to the man for a few seconds.

“Hey.”

Alex jerked, a thud and a splash answering him as he knocked a cup of coffee to the floor. He stared at it in confusion, positive that he hadn’t bought coffee recently.

“Hey,” this time the voice was much softer and Alex looked up to see Kyle staring at him, worry clear in his eyes. “Are you okay? You look like shit.”

“You really know how to charm a guy,” Alex bit back softly.

Kyle put his wrist to Alex’s forehead and Alex didn’t have the energy to move away. “You’re not warm.”

“When did you get here?” Here being the Project Shepherd bunker. Alex wasn’t even sure when he himself got here, if he was being honest. His days were starting to get very hazy, hours passing by without him noticing.

Kyle crouched next to him. “I got back about ten minutes ago.” Fuck, Alex thought. Back meant Kyle had been here already. “I met you here this morning at nine?” Kyle searched his face for recognition but Alex knew he wouldn’t find any. “Alex, are you okay? Have you been here since I left?”

Alex nodded slowly, his eyes searching behind Kyle’s head for a clock. Fuck. It was almost midnight.

Kyle reached for his wrist, his fingers locating Alex’s pulse with ease. “You’ve been looking a little rundown the past few weeks but this is pretty bad. You need sleep, Alex.”

“I sleep plenty.” He probably sleeps too much, honestly.

“It doesn’t look like it. You look like you’re about to keel over, honestly. How are you even working?” Kyle looks past Alex’s shoulder to see what he was working on. “Are those more Caulfield files?”

They were, in fact. Alex had been searching through them to see if there had been any research on alien soul bonds but so far there was nothing. 

“Alex?” Kyle looked much more worried now. “What were you working on?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Alex forced out, his voice just above a mumble. “Maybe I do need more sleep.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed slowly. “You might need more than that. How long have you been feeling this bad?”

Alex shrugged as he pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the side. Kyle immediately held out a steadying hand but Alex waved him off and grabbed his crutch. He slowly shut down the computers and gathered his things as Kyle pestered him with questions about his health. He had no intention of revealing the soul bond to anyone, except maybe Michael, so he mostly shrugged in answer to whatever Kyle asked.

It worked well enough to get them out of the bunker and to their cars. It stopped working when Kyle refused to let Alex drive.

“You can barely stand, Alex!” Kyle spoke as calmly as his frustration would allow. “You’re too tired to drive and I really don’t want you swerving into oncoming traffic trying to keep your eyes open.”

Alex leveled a look at him. “It’s Roswell and it’s midnight on a weeknight. I’ll be the only car on the road the whole way, I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not the point and you know it. It’s a long drive to the cabin and anything could happen. At the very least, come to my place and sleep on the couch for a few hours.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alex reiterated as he stepped around Kyle and threw his stuff into his car. “Really. I might not be out here tomorrow, though.”

“Good,” Kyle responded immediately. “Take the whole damn week. You could definitely use a few days off, even if you weren’t sick.”

“Fine,” Alex agreed as he slid behind the wheel.

“Well now I know you’re really sick,” Kyle quipped. The corners of his mouth were turned down in worry but Alex appreciated his attempt at light heartedness. “Call me if you need anything.” Alex nodded. “I’m serious, Alex. I really don’t like you going out to the cabin by yourself.”

“I will be fine,” Alex promised. He carefully didn’t mention that he wasn’t actually going to the cabin, that he hadn’t been out there for more than a few minutes in weeks. “I promise to call if I need anything. Really.”

Kyle paused a beat before nodding and stepping out of the way. Once he was clear, Alex pulled the door shut and started the car. He was gone before Kyle could have time to second guess his decision. 

As he crawled into Michael’s bed twenty minutes later, half heartedly grabbing at whatever blankets and clothes he could reach, Alex finally accepted that something would have to give. Michael wasn’t home enough for his clothes and his belongings to have much of an effect on Alex anymore and the longer he stayed away from Michael the more his soul splintered. Soon, Michael would have more of Alex’s soul than Alex would and Alex wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be alive after that.

---

It was three days before Michael finally went home. Three days where Alex didn’t wake up. Three days where he wasted away without notice.

#malex fic #rnm #my fic #i would like to reminder yall that when i asked if you were ready for angst you said yes #long post