#yes even trying to kill kyle rat he was right about that

[empressofthesunwriter]

The Stick of Truth

Codename: Dovahkiin Part 1!

N.K. is angry at her parents. Not only did they move again, no, but they moved into a snowy hicktown named South Park! She was sure she would hate it there, yet surprisingly she gets to participate in the epic RPG the kids play and falls for the human princess and the elf king. Who is friend, who is foe and which side should she choose?

Main Pairing: New Kid/Kenny McCormick/Kyle Broflovski

Here we are with a short chapter to a really twisted part of the game!

But we learn some new things so…profit?

Enjoy this little chapter anyways!

Chapter 12: No words can describe this trauma!

I’m again in the war-thorn Main Street in Seattle.

I feel how blood drops from my hands.

I know it’s not my own blood.

It’s the blood of the soldiers who…tried to kill me?

I…I don’t know for sure.

They…they have pointed their weapons at me!

They…they shot at me but not in any important organs.

Are they trying to catch me?

But why?

My breath is rugged.

I feel so dizzy.

“Now, now, my dear Dovahkiin!”, tutts a male voice.

I see…the Eye-Patch-Grandpa!

With him are severely heavily armed soldiers.

“How long do you want to run?”, Eye-Patch-Granpa asks. “How long can you still fight?”

My mouth moves on my own.

“As long as I can. I will not be your weapon!”

He looks at me with pity.

“Oh dear sweet Dovahkiin, you are like this, because of us. You BELONG to us. You are a weapon!”

A growl lefts my mouth.

Eye-Patch-Granpa speaks again and surprisingly sings: “Time to go to work! Work all night! Search for underpants hey! We won't stop until we have underpants! Yum tum yummy tum tayyy!”

What the fuck?!

I wake up in a jolt and search for my glasses.

What is going on?

What was that dream and who is singing in my room about underpants?

When I can see again I see…little gnomes?

Little gnomes who are stealing my panties!

What kind of pervert assholes are this?

Yes, I totally ignore that I see real gnomes since I’m so offended!

“OH SHIT, SHE'S AWAKE!”, yells a gnome.

“What?!”

“This kid is AWAKE! What the fuck do we do?!”

“Oh, fuck!”

“I guess we gotta kill her.”

“All right, fuck it, let's kill her.”

Angry I stand up from my bed and look down at these tiny perverts.

“I will kill you, you fucked up pervs! Who steals the panties of an 11-year-old?!”

The anger and disgust I feel are like a hot ball in my stomach. Automatically I let it spread and…in a flash, I’m transformed?

Huh?

I can transform into a Magical Girl?

….Wait a minute it happened the night before on the alien ship!

I totally forgot!

Okay, something is really wrong with my memory that I always forget that I’m a Magical Girl.

Sadly I can’t think more about it since I need to kill little perverts!

I can’t believe that even these perverted gnomes take also part in the RPG!

But their attacks don’t even scratch. With a flick of my wrist, they evaporate and I only need to shoot tiny balls of light at them to defeat them.

It’s kinda like when you have a game boss on Level 20 and you grind your character to 40 or 50 to completely destroy them.

“Shit, she's too big! We can't beat her!”, cries a gnome.

“Damn right now get out of my room before I kill you!”

“Well if you can't beat ‘em, SHRINK ‘em! Go ahead, Warlock!”

“What?!”

I don’t know why these gnomes are so fixed on killing me, didn’t the beating I gave them humiliate enough?

Another gnome appears, he really has the warlock vibe going on and throws at me some glitter.

Okay, now we all are the same height.

They don’t waste time to attack me again, but I’m pretty much a tank in my Magical Girl form and kick their asses again.

Beaten and bloody they run into the little mousehole in my room.

“Hey! Come back and turn me normal again?!”, I shout after them.

I follow them through the mousehole.

These perverted gnomes are fast, I can’t see them. The giant rat that lives in our walls I see therefore clearly enough.

I kill it with my golden light energy orb.

I continue on in my search for the gnomes and end up in a ventilation box. I can hear my parents talking.

Curiosity gets the better of me, so I stop to listen.

“I just sometimes feel like we should tell her the truth.”, say’s Mamma to Papà defeated.

“Why?! So she can relive it all in her head?”, counters Papà. “It's better that she can't remember!”

“Chris, N.K. was born with this gift, and then they did these experiments on her, so they could turn her into an even more powerful weapon! We have tried for years to not trigger these powers, but N.K. always awakes them!”

I…I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

What gift?

What experiments?

What kind of weapon should I be turned into?

My…my dreams.

Dovahkiin…that’s what Eye-Patch-Grandpa called me! The only Dovahkiin I know is the one from Skyrim…who can absorb powers and make them their own?!

Is my Magical Girl form the result of that?!

I…I feel dizzy.

This is too much.

“That’s why we have to keep anything secret from N.K. They WON'T stop looking for her, Kelly.”, argues Papà “We moved here to South Park since crazy shit happens here daily. Our daughter’s powers are nothing against what is going on here. We will be safe finally.”

My parents knew that South Park is literally the epicenter of craziness and moved us here on purpose?!

Do hide my powers better? Even from me?

What?

Tired Mamma rubs her forehead and leans on Papà for support.

“I'm so frazzled. Will you just... make love to me?”

…WHAT?!

“Of course, I will, darling.”

Dear Isis, Osiris, Seth, and Hathor let’s get out of here!

I run, but…I can hear them!

I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Oh god, this will haunt my nightmares for ages.

Goddammit, where are these perverted gnomes?!

I make my way through the walls of our home. I encounter more rats, but I kill them easily.

I just wish I had some earplugs to not hear how my parents are having sex!

Gritting my teeth as I open the wall socket before me and jump down.

I land on the dresser…in my parent’s room.

“AAARGH! IT BURNS!”, I scream and slap my hands against my eyes.

I didn’t need to see this!

I didn’t need to see this!

Hearing it was already traumatizing, yet seeing it is a whole other number!

This time I really throw up a bit.

I need brain bleach!

I have to find these gnomes!

Trying to blend out the sounds of the coupling of my parents and also not to look at them again, I run along the dresser.

Finally!

There they are!

“You son of sphinxes!”, I curse.

“Oh, shit, the kid is still following us!”, points a gnome out.

“She's not gonna stop until she finds a way to become normal size again! That means she's coming after YOU, Warlock!”, turns another gnome to the warlock.

He doesn’t like it.

“What?! Ah, FUCK!”

He runs away and his buddies try to stop me from going after him. I defeat them fast.

“Come back here, you bastard!”, I shout after the Warlock.

“I'm not changing you back!”, he calls back “I don't care what you do to me!”

I chase after him.

Oh no!

The warlock climbs up the bed of my parents, who are still having sex.

And of course, I see again what they do!

Doggy-Style!

I throw up again.

With the back of my white glove, I try to clean my mouth, while I reach the Warlock on the bed.

How fucked up is this?

How much therapy will I need to cure this trauma?

I will so kill this Warlock!

“You perverted, dickless, ugly ass bitch! Stop running at face me like a man!”, I challenge him.

“You couldn't just let it go, could you?!”, he shouts at me. “You couldn't just let us take your underpants! No, you had to go and start asking QUESTIONS! Well, now you shall see the true power of an underpants gnome!”

…Underpants gnome?!

They really exist!

Oh my god, I have to call my old bro Ryan, who lives in New York. He always told me that gnomes were stealing his underpants and I told him he was hallucinating.

I feel bad now.

But I need to concrete on the Underpants Gnome Warlock and not him or my parent who have above us sex.

This will be the most fucked-up fight in all existence.

Still, I form on my hand’s golden light orbs and get in a fighting position.

“Come at me, bro!”, I growl.

We start our fight…and it’s fucked up as I said. At one point, I have to dodge my dad’s balls.

I never ever thought that I would ever think something like that and yet here we are!

I will make the Underpants Gnomes pay for my therapist’s bills!

In the end, I defeat the Warlock.

“Alright all right! You win! Take this! Take it!”

He hands me a little pouch with glitter.

“You can grow small or big whenever you feel like it!”, he explains to me. “All we wanted was to collect underpants to stop Taco Bell from releasing its toxic green goo into our underground world! You see, the green goo is actually a- RAAAAAAUAUUAUGH!”

The warlocks get crashed under my mom’s breasts!

Thank heaven I have such good reflexes as Magical Girl and can jump out of the bed before my dad’s balls crush me.

Faster than lighting I use the way I came here to go back to my room.

I sit, still as Magical Girl, but normal-sized again on my bed and I have my arms wrapped around my leg, swinging myself back and forth.

I thought the alien with their probes were fucked up, yet what I expired tonight takes the cake.

I’m scared to fall asleep.

So I’m just sitting there, trying to not flip out totally.

I think about what I learned.

I have a gift…I don’t know what it is.

Someone expirendment on me…which gave me my Magical Girl form.

My parents know all this…they keep it secret from me.

It already happened before that I transformed…I always forget.

Eye-Patch-Grandpa was in my dreams…maybe they aren’t dreams, but memories.

My memories are more fucked up than I thought!

I can’t remember shit, only that I transformed yesterday and then these weird dreams about Seattle.

Maybe…like I saw it in my dreams…Eye-Patch-Grandpa belongs to the people who did this to me…and tries to get me back…and I used my Magical Girl Powers to fight them…somehow I won…my parents grabbed me and decide to flee with me to South Park… undiscussable the most fucked-up and crazy place on Earth to hide me…to hide what I am.

But…what I’m exactly?

I’m not a classic Magical Girl since my powers come from these experiments and then there is this gift, I was born natural with, that I don’t know what it is!

So….I’m kind of a superhuman.

A mutant?

I don’t fucking know!

Then in a flash, I transform back and feel again soooo tired.

My Magical Girl Form is powerful but comes with this negative part.

After the transformation ends I feel like death cooked over.

I yawn and snuggle up in my bed.

Maybe…I can close my eyes for a little while.

Just to get some energy back.

I don’t want to forget what I learned.

In the end, my exhaustion is more powerful and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

Next

#southparkfanfiction #southpark #new kid sp #dovahkiin #stick of truth #SP FanFic: Codename: Dovahkiin Part 1 #douchbag #kenny mccormick #kyle broflovski #k2 #polyamarous

[softieskywalker]

luke skywalker did nothing wrong, ever, in his entire life

#yes even trying to kill kyle rat he was right about that #luke skywalker

[immortalpark]

Chapter two: This dude named Michael - 2

CRAIG: Hey, what the hell is this?

MICHAEL: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

CRAIG: How about I beat you up, will that jog your memory?

MICHAEL: Whatever, fag.

…

CRAIG: What?

KENNY: Are you okay?

CRAIG: Why do you care?

KENNY: Unless you want to get some disease from a homeless guy, you can come to my house for the night.

CRAIG: Your house?

KENNY: Craig, I’ll leave you here in a heartbeat. Just say yes or no.

CRAIG: But I hate you. And you hate me.

KENNY: It’s me or a homeless guy with AIDs.

CRAIG: Both options are you.

KENNY: Craig.

CRAIG: Fine.

KENNY: You got your nose busted up pretty bad.

CRAIG: It's fine.

CRAIG: I don't get why Michael would make up those rumours though.

CRAIG: I get he's all emo and depressing, maybe seeing me get humiliated gets him off or something.

CRAIG: But why me? I don't bother those kids.

KENNY: Real mystery...

CRAIG: He would risk rumours about HIM being gay just to get me embarrassed?

CRAIG: Maybe it was Cartman who told him to pose for that picture for money or something...

CRAIG: Whoever it was, they better 'fess up soon, I'll beat them blue and purple.

KENNY: You couldn't even get one punch in that fight though.

CRAIG: Shut up, Kenny.

CRAIG: I could have won if he didn't bring brass knuckles to a fist fight.

CRAIG: He caught me off guard, that's all.

CRAIG: Why did you let me in your house anyways? We both think each other are assholes.

KENNY: I'm just trying to be nice.

CRAIG: Well, your bed and house is covered in both rats and it's shit. I would have been better outside.

CRAIG: You better not be trying to gain my trust and make up another rumour though.

KENNY: I wouldn't make up rumours about you, Craig.

KENNY: Go to sleep already.

CRAIG: Okay, but don't think about snapping a picture of me in your bed, queerbag.

KENNY: But you're literally ga- ok whatever

...

KENNY: Tweek, dude, have you seen Craig?!

TWEEK: Why the hell would I know where that-- GAH-- COCKFACE is?!

KENNY: He wasn’t there when I woke up so--

TWEEK: What do you mean “when you woke up”?! Were you sleeping together?!?!?!

KENNY: Not like that-- Do you know where Craig is, or not?!

TWEEK: No, and I don’t care where he is! He’s probably smooching some rando right now! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!

KENNY: Oh shit, I gotta go! He’s gonna get himself killed!

TWEEK: Good!

KYLE: Oh, hey, Kenny.

KENNY: …

KYLE: Hm.

STAN: Heya, Tweek. So, uh. How’s it going?

TWEEK: Why are you 3 here? Are you here to terrorise me?!

CARTMAN: I’m here to order a cookie, and these gaywads want to talk about your feelings or whatever.

CARTMAN: And on top of a cookie, I want to get you and Craig back together.

TWEEK: No way! Never will I even look at that guinea pig fuckers face again!

KYLE: Tweek, calm down. How about you sit down and we can talk about this?

TWEEK: … And it’s just left me wondering if he’s been cheating this whole time!

TWEEK: But I know this break-up was inevitable because he’s an apathetic fuckass!

TWEEK: So I sort of prepared myself for this.

CARTMAN: Just kiss and get over it!

KYLE: Shut up, fatboy.

KYLE: Stan, you’ve been through numerous breakups, give Tweek advice.

STAN: Jee, thanks.

STAN: Uhhh… just. uh, don’t be upset.

TWEEK: How motivational.

TWEEK: Why are you 3 actually here? I thought you-- GAH-- hated me.

CARTMAN: It’s cause you and Craig are suuuuuuuch a dream pair!

CARTMAN: And also because you’re a total spaz and we thought you’d shoot up the school if you didn’t sort out your gay emotions. Pun unintended.

KYLE: CARTMAN!

STAN: Oh, jesus.

TWEEK: …

KYLE: Wow, THANKS, Cartman!

KYLE: Now he’s for sure going to target us!

STAN: Couldn’t you just keep your fat mouth closed?

CARTMAN: It’s his fault for breaking up the perfect OTP!

TOKEN’s MOM: Ah, Craig, great… to see you.

TOKEN's MOM: You must've gotten our text message. We had to use Token's phone.

TOKEN's MOM: Sorry for texting so early in the morning, I hope it was no trouble...

TOKEN’s MOM: We would have asked someone else but all of Token’s little friends were all busy…

CRAIG: What’s wrong with Token?

TOKEN’s MOM: We’re not sure… he started to act strangely after that day with Kenny.

CRAIG: What a surprise.

TOKEN’s MOM: Last night, he smashed his own mirror and injured his hand for seemingly no reason...

TOKEN’s MOM: Go head up to his room and see if you can ask what’s been going on.

TOKEN’s MOM: And if Kenny sold him drugs or something...

CRAIG: Hey, dude.

CRAIG: Ugh, I was at Kenny’s house and he only has a shitty Nokia phone charger. Do you care if I use yours?

TOKEN: You… were with Kenny?

CRAIG: We’re not friends or anything.

CRAIG: He insisted I slept over at his house.

CRAIG: Oh, yeah. Your mom texted me before my phone died that I should ask if Kenny sold you drugs, but I know you wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t even touch marijuana that one time.

TOKEN: Did Kenny do anything to you?

CRAIG: Jesus Christ, no. I didn’t cheat on Tweek with KENNY.

TOKEN: That’s not what I meant.

TOKEN: I really need to talk to you about Kenny.

CRAIG: Oh.

CRAIG: Sure.

TOKEN: When me and Kenny hung out, h-he must’ve drugged me or something…

CRAIG: I do hate Kenny, but I don’t think he would have something like that.

TOKEN: I remember it all vividly, he pushed me and I fell…

TOKEN: But I woke up totally fine. Not even a scratch.

TOKEN: Even though I remember breaking my arm when I fell…

CRAIG: That makes no sense.

CRAIG: Maybe your moms right. Maybe you are on drugs.

TOKEN: I’m not…!

TOKEN: I think I died… but woke up in my bed as if nothing ever happened.

CRAIG: You must’ve just passed out or something and had a weird dream.

CRAIG: Maybe Kenny’s cat piss fumes rubbed off on you.

TOKEN: I want to believe that but it all felt so real…

TOKEN: Why would Kenny do that… I trusted hi…

TOKEN: Wait.

TOKEN: You’re not with Kenny, are you…?

CRAIG: What?

TOKEN: That’s why you must’ve visited…

TOKEN: Why is everyone after me?!

TOKEN: I never did anything to you!

CRAIG: Dude, chill out… I have no clue what you’re talking about.

[ PREVIOUS | START | NEXT ]

#south park au #craig tucker #token black #immortal park #chapter2

[jordanstrophe]

This One is Mine, part...10?

Masterlist 

Anon ask, Anon receive c:

(I am aware the Content Warning spoil a lot, but I want everyone to be safe and comfortable. The main story will have a happy ending though!)

CW: Very Intimate whumper, manhandling, restraints, Whumpee recaptured by whumper, gun mentioned, Arrest made, implied whipping, Blood, Death threats, gun mentioned, Gag, Kidnapping mentioned

Michael sat crumpled under the desk, face pressed against the corner, twitching and shaking, the gashes on his back burning. He wanted to go home... He didn’t even care about his life before all this, he hardly even remembered it. He just wanted to stay with Charles.

Maybe he forgot about him already... 

He let a quiet sob escape his lips, but held in the rest. Almost immediately, two hands reached down and roughly grabbed his bound arms, pulling him from under the desk. He yelped as he was pulled into Malcolm's lap, who cradled him in his arms.

“Shh, baby, don’t cry. He’s not worth a tear.” Malcolm whispered, thumbing them away. He tucked his face into his shoulder, whimpering and crying softly. “You’re home now, lovely. Back where you belong, in my arms, at my feet, isn’t that right?” He asked. “Y-yes master.” He said, he didn’t have the energy to rebel anymore. Malcolm gave him a lovingly smile, stroking his knuckles down his face. Michael wanted nothing but to spit in his face and pull from his grasp, but he had learned not to do that the hard way in the past. 

His phone on his desk rang, Malcolm groaned annoyingly as he shoved Michael onto the floor, who quickly scampered back under the desk. “Who is it?! I’m busy!” He growled into the phone angrily.

“Jake, Kyle, Alice, Emma, Vince...” The voice rattled off a list of names. Before the voice could continue any further, Malcolm shrieked “What is this? What do you think you’re doing?!” He knew who that was, and he recognized all those names.

“Oh, some people you should know. People you took off the street against the system. People who didn’t see anything, but you took them anyway. You know what I’m talking about.” Charles smiled. “You abused the system for your personal gain, it’s like a sport to you, isn’t it? A big game. I have more names if you want me to remind you.”

Malcolm’s face went red, but he shook off the anger, he still held all the cards. 

Right?

“That doesn’t matter, it’s a business tactic! The other founders will recognize that, there on my side, remember?” He laughed.  “Yeah, but the government isn’t.” Charles smirked. 

Malcolm broke down laughing. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed until he was practically wheezing, Michael was pretty hopeful he would die on the spot.

“The government? Please old friend, you wouldn’t dare! You rat me out, the entire system goes with it.” He laughed.  “So?” Charles asked. “I’ll be honest. I’m getting bored, I feel like I beat the game of life a long long time ago. But now I have something else to live for, and if you don’t return him, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe."  “You’re either crazy, or bluffing, and I’m going to go with the second one.” He sneered. 

 “He’s not joking, Malcom.” Nimrah spoke behind Charles. “Is that the lovely Miss Nimrah Loralie? Are you still salty about our last business deal?” He chuckled. “Yes, yes I am, thank you very much. But let me make it clear to you, Charles is no bluffing man, he plans to take down the entire system unless you give him what he wants. Or.. You could always not, and we can go back to the first plan.” She shrugged.

“First plan, eh?” He laughed. “Yeah, me kindly giving you a bullet between the eyes.” She hissed into the phone. 

“You even got her involved. You’re serious here, aren’t you Charles?” He sighed. 

“Deadly, serious.”

Malcolm glanced down at Michael cowering under the desk, he was only hearing half the conversation, too many questions were swimming in his head. Malcolm let off a sigh of defeat. “Alright. Alright. Fine. He’s not worth the trouble, you know where to meet me, tonight.” He mumbled. He hung up before Charles could get another word in. 

Malcolm ripped the phone in two with his bare hands, and threw it against the large mirror, shattering it to pieces that shot across the room. He slammed his fists on the desk, jostling the whole room, the chandeliers clattering and swaying. He collapsed to his knees to come face to face with Michael, who trembled and shook. He grabbed his chin and pulled him closer.

“What is with you, huh? What’s so special about you?! Do you realize what you’ve just caused?!” He cried out. Michael only squeezed his eyes shut, whimpering over the pain in his back. Malcolm sighed, loosening his grasp and petting his cheek. “But don’t worry baby, I’m going to fix everything tonight, alright? Right in front of Charles.” He smiled lovingly. 

Charles' hands trembled, he had made dozens of phone calls, and deleted hundreds of files on every hard drive. Miles nervously paced around the room twitching his fingers in his grasp. 

“Charles, are you sure? Are you one-hundred percent sure you want to do this?” Miles asked.  “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. It’s time.” He gave him a sad smile.  “And you’re sure we’re going to be fine? We have protection, right?” Nimrah asked. “Absolutely, every one of you is going to be taken care of, I swear. I take care of my household” He said. 

“But... What about you?” Liam asked. The room went silent. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Miles, I’m counting on you, alright?” He asked. Miles nervously nodded his head. 

When night fell, they drove to the abandoned lot where they did the usual trades. “Nimrah? Something has been on my mind. That day, in the shop, you recognized Michael. You said he was brave... What happened?” He asked. Nimrah sighed, crossing her arms and legs. 

‘'Before our little fall out, I would always attend his parties. I’ll give him credit, his parties were a real killer. But this one night was a bit different. He had just lost one of his favorites, and was pretty mad. He did it himself, of course, but he never blamed himself. He dressed up a bunch of his Pets and had them serve the food and drinks, one of them fell and spilled a lot of really expensive drinks, it’s safe to say he wasn’t too happy.” She huffed.  “I swear it looked like he was about to kill that boy on the spot. But Michael jumped in front and shielded him, He took the punishment instead.” She sighed.

Charles was silent, he was scared to try and picture that scene. “He knew what he was doing, brave kid. But he sealed his fate that day, for that was the day he became the new favorite.” She said. “Man...” Miles muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. Charles could only clench his fists tightly. 

Malcolm’s car pulled up, Michael was knelt on the floor. “Come on lovely, up here.” Malcolm cooed, gently pulled him up on the seat next to him. '‘Now sweetheart, do you know what’s going to happen?” He asked, brushing the bloody hair from his face. “N-No.. Master..” He muttered. “Charles about threw everything away for you, his career, his freedom, all for you! Isn’t that nice?” He smiled.  

Michael’s eyes shot up, he finally felt a glimmer of hope. “He’s... Came f-for me?” He asked, tears streaking down his face. “All for you, he’s just outside, waiting for you!” He grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a tight hug, hissing in his ear. 

“And then I’m going to kill you. Right in front of him, before you even reach him. And while he’s too stunned to do anything, I’m going to kill him, right after he sees you dead.”

Michael’s eyes went wide, his breathing stopped.  No... No he wouldn’t. No... No!  “Why?” He whimpered, too shocked to even break down to sob, he was only breathless. 

‘Why? Because if I can’t have you. No one can.” 

In an instant, Malcolm shoved a gag in his mouth, and tied it tightly. “But shhh, it’s a surprise, so don’t tell him, okay? Oh baby, I’m going to miss you.” He said sadly, as Michael tried to scream, or run, or fight, anything! But he couldn’t... 

Malcolm grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the car. He could see the headlights of another car, beaming across the lot. He heard the other car door slam shut. He tried to shout, to scream, anything to warn then about what was going to happen! But all that came out were panicked muffling sobs. 

“Malcolm!” Charles shouted. Standing in front of the headlights, only his silhouette was visible. “I’ve got your boy, Charles! I honored my part, now do the same!” He called. “Let him go, and we’ll see about that.” He responded. 

Malcolm had a hold on his arm, as he pulled him forward. “Don’t mess this up now.” He whispered, before shoving him forward. He quickly regained his footing, standing in the middle of the lot, his legs quaking under him, as he froze.

“Michael! It’s okay, come here!” Charles called, but he didn’t move. He tried to cry out again, but hardly anything was coming out. He looked up at Charles, with tears in his eyes, as he shook his head no. 

“Sweetheart it’s okay! It’s okay now, come home!” He cried, taking a step closer. Michael only responded by taking a step back, viciously shaking his head no. 

Malcolm laughed. “What’s wrong Charles? Your boy doesn't want you anymore?”  Charles let out a frustrated sigh, as he began to walk towards Michael, who scrambled back and collapsed on the gravel. 

“..Michael?” Charles asked, slowing down his pace, confused. He saw something flash in Malcolm's hand from the headlights, before he even had a chance to do anything, there was a loud crashing sound from the distance. 

‘'Hands in the air! Drop the weapon!” A loud voice announced. Black cars screeched up to the scene, within an instant dozens of people poured out of them.

“I repeat, drop the weapon!” They called again.

Weapon... What weapon? There was a clanking sound that came from Malcolm, who had thrown a gun to the floor with his hands in the air, his face pale, frozen with fear. He looked down, to see Michael still trembling on the ground, unable to move. He quickly grabbed him, pulling him into an embrace for just a moment, before ripping him onto his feet, quickly dragged him over and put him in Miles arms. 

‘Go!” He cried, as Miles held on to Michael. 

He turned around, hand in the air. "They’re not involved, I’m the one who called! I’m the one you want!” He called, as he was immediately wrestled to the ground. He looked up, as saw the same was done to Malcolm and his driver. Malcolm’s eyes were fixated on him, hatred burning in his eyes. “You rat... We had a deal!” 

Michael looked back, and saw what was happening. Miles pulled the gag from his mouth, as he immediately cried out. ‘Wait! What’s happening!? Charles!?” He cried. He tried to pull himself from Miles grasp, but he didn’t let go.

“No no no! Stay with me, he has to do this!” Miles cried, as Michael desperately tried to run to him. 

“WAIT! NO! CHARLES! PLEASE, NO! CHARLES!” He screamed, as Miles grabbed his legs and threw him over his shoulder.  He screamed, cried, fought and pleaded as he was thrown into the back of the car. Miles jumped in the driver's seat and hit the gas. Nimrah crawled into the back seat and tried to sooth Michael, who was screaming and crying.

“Sshh, Michael, it’s alright, calm down.” Nimrah whispered. She pulled off the shackled from his wrists, as he immediately scrambled to open the car door, but it was locked. She pulled him into a hug, trying to calm him down, but he wasn’t having it. They drove for hours, and hours, long passing the mansion. Eventually his voice gave out, as he collapsed in the seat, blindly staring out the window, his face stained with tears. 

“He’ll be okay.” Nimrah muttered, to the both of them. 

“He’ll be okay...”

Tag list: @lave-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @green-eyed-whumpster  @grizzlie70  @myworstdays @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @alien-octopus

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!

I was quite unsure of this one, as the story was SUPPOSE to be fluffy. (My inner whump came out, sorry) But! It will have a good ending! And this was kind of the only way I could think that could lead up to that ending I wanted. The next chapter will most likely be the last. I may come back and do some drabble, or if someone wants to request something, but the main story is about to come to an end. I’m hopping these past few chapters didn’t go somewhere where people didn’t want it to go. But thank you for coming this far, I really appreciate you! <3 

#whump #whumper #whumpee #caretaker #whumpee recaptured by whumper #whumpee rescued by caretaker

[dsoe-masteroftheheavenlyyard]

Chapter 11, Section 1–Re_Birthday; Scene 4

master of the heavenly yard pages 246-253

It was an unexpected miracle.

Nemesis ordered Eater to bring them closer to where Ma was.

The wind had already completely stopped, but Ma hadn’t left from her spot, hands over her ears.

“…Stop…Stop singing! This…jarring, shrill noise—" Ma screamed.

Nemesis looked on her with pity. “Mother, this song just sounds like that to you. …Maybe you really shouldn’t have been born in this world after all.”

As he kept his focus on Ma, Allen looked at the scenery below them.

The black vortex flowing out of Ma was still obscuring the surface of the ground. But he could see the faces of many souls peeking through it, all singing.

Everyone from Lucifenia…No, not just them. people from Elphe, and Jakoku—If it isn’t Inukichi, Saruteito, and Kiji! Everyone’s singing along with Michaela—Oh, what’s this?

He could see a small animal flying their way.

For some reason—it had a green onion grasped in its hand.

“He~y!”

It landed on Nemesis’ shoulder, twirling the green onion around cheerfully.

“…Huh? What is this winged rat?”

“I am the ‘Demon of Pride’ the great Marie! I brought you something from the ‘Master of the Hellish yard’!” she said, pushing the green onion towards Nemesis.

“This is—” Nemesis took the green onion and held it to her ear. “Hello, Gumillia!?”

<…Can you hear me? Elluka…>

“Yeah. –Is everyone singing under your instruction?”

<…No. Everyone got together, and started singing on their own…It’s as though, it was the most natural thing, in the world…>

“—I see.”

<…Maybe, we…were born…to sing like, this…”

“Haha, maybe so. …Gumillia, I’m glad I caught you. Is Seth with you?”

<…Yes…>

“I have a favor to ask of him.”

Nemesis conveyed her request to Gumillia through the green onion.

<…Got it. I will tell Seth…>

“Thank you. Now then—I’ll see you later. Over and out.” Nemesis took the green onion from her ear and handed it back to Marie. “Thank you greatly for your service, Marie.”

“Yeah, you better praise me.”

“Now, get away from here pronto. We wouldn’t want you to get sucked into Ma again.”

“O-oh, right…That would be bad. Then—I leave it to you, my manservants,” Marie said, descending down to the ground.

“Sigh…”

Nemesis heaved a great sigh. “Well then—let’s get to it.”

So saying, she held out a hand towards Ma.

“As long as I have the power of the inscription, it should work out even against a soul…Let’s go!”

After she shouted to bolster herself, she recited a brief incantation.

“—Onorhc yrots.”

At the same time, a pink light enveloped both Ma and Nemesis.

It was the spell that she prized most highly—

The “Swap Technique”.

Using this, Nemesis would pull Ma’s spirit alone into her body.

--However.

“…Grr. it’s no use! Ma is bound too tightly to the other souls!”

Ma still appeared to be in agony, but nonetheless her lips twitched into a smile. “The ‘Swap Technique’…A novel idea. But—I won’t let go. Not of these ‘Deadly Sin Contractors’…Or you!”

Ma held out her hand at Nemesis.

“Onorhc yrots!”

She recited the same incantation as the other.

The color of the light surrounding both of them increased in intensity.

“You can’t possibly…plan to…take me in instead!?”

Nemesis’ expression twisted.

“Once I gain you, I will become a ‘pure being’…Come, Nemesis…Return to me!”

“You’re the one who drove me out in the first place!”

As the two sorceresses fought for dominance—

Allen pulled something out.

Upon seeing it, Nemesis grew shocked.

“The golden key—‘Grim the End’!? Allen, you have it with you!?”

“I do…Nemesis, please try to hold out a little while longer.”

Allen focused his thoughts on the key, and it changed into a golden sword.

And then—

He leaped from Eater’s shoulder at Ma.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

He let out a war cry as he lifted the sword high.

.

Riliane. Can you hear this song too?

The world—isn’t our enemy anymore!

.

--Allen brought down his sword on Ma.

“Gguh!?”

Ma, and Riliane’s soul, were cut through from the shoulder.

Still—a soul could not die.

What the golden key “Grim the End” killed—was the sin of the contractors.

“Allen!” Nemesis shouted at Allen. He was still falling towards the ground.

And then—Nemesis saw a change occur in Ma.

Has the bond between Ma and the contractors weakened? Then—

Firing herself up, she strengthened her spell once more.

“Aaaaaugh!”

Finally—the souls of the contractors were released from Ma.

Her spirit drew in towards Nemesis, gushing out more of the black vortex.

Still, Ma had not given up.

“With…you…Nemesis…just you at least—”

“You want to possess me? No thanks.”

“You have nowhere to run! There is no longer any body in this world you can move to!”

“—Is that right?”

Nemesis pointed at Riliane—or to be more accurate, at the doll Riliane was carrying with her.

“That one’s empty right now, isn’t it?”

“—You can’t be serious!?”

Nemesis jumped down from Eater’s shoulder.

As she fell through space, she—

“Onorhc yrots.”

Once more recited the “Swap Technique”.

This time facing the doll.

Nemesis’ spirit left her body, and drew towards the doll.

“I give you my body. With it, all by yourself—you can finally become a ‘pure being’, Mother.”

And then, Ma into Nemesis’ body.

Nemesis into the “Clockworker’s Doll”.

They entered their respective vessels.

.

Allen’s spirit was still in freefall.

But right before he hit the ground, someone grabbed his arm.

Then they carried him up high again.

“—This time, I’m going to support you.”

The owner of the voice, the one who had saved Allen—

Was Germaine.

She was riding on Kyle’s back, him having sprouted wings, and was holding tight to Allen’s arm.

“Germaine—What about the others…and Riliane?”

“They seem fine to me.”

When they looked up they could see Venomania, flapping his wings as five others clung to him.

“Th-this is too much weight…Hey, Gallerian. Let go, dammit.”

Venomania shook his right leg, which Gallerian was holding onto.

“Stop it! I’ll fall for real!”

“It’s not like you’re gonna die!”

Allen watched the argument with a smile on his face.

“…Thank goodness.”

Riliane, Kayo, Banica, and the Sleep Princess were all okay.

Which just left--

<<prev------directory------next>>

[flashfuture]

Oblivion being the dark chick, ridiculously over powered sidekick to Sinestro is so funny because he thinks he’s in control but at the very best he’s the one closest to be killed if Oblivion decides he doesn’t want to be bossed around anymore. They be like...the anti-Hal and anti-Kyle.

Also if Kyle is captured inside Oblivion, would he be able to see oblivion attacking his family? That be horrible. Also Ganthet being the first one to clock Oblivion and he doesn’t even hesitate to shot first ask questions later, realize his annoying twink grandson right now creature. Of course this shocks the boys whose wondering what the hell is going on before Oblivion shows his true form.

Though I am getting the vibe that Oblivion spawns when Kyle emotions verge into deep saddness (or fear) but I guess gods have to have a mortal enemy that is their opposite. Oblivion is just cool because he’s not like halallax, he’s not a sympathetic man on the brink or Sinestro a man with big plans; nah this fucker just wants to destroy what his better half creates, a force of nature, like you’ve said he is nothingness to Kyle’s creation, destruction to the physical things he creates and he wants to destroy the bonds he has but he legit can’t because he doesn’t truly understand them and let’s be real Kyle stood with Kyle when he was a megalomaniac, no way Hal and the guys is ditching Kyle just because he happened to spawn something like oblivion by accident and has killed it twice and yet it still keeps coming back. Though I can imagine them being like “twice? Twice? Where the fuck where we the first times?”

Sinestro: Now destroy them

Oblivion: Are you... did you just tell me what to do?

Sinestro: Oh my god you are the pouty version of the alley rat

Sinestro now being turned to dust and choked out Force style cause you know Kyle in whatever form is extra all the time: Uck ngh not what I meant do whatever you want

Oh no Kyle seeing himself attack his friends and family 😢

And Kyle being destroyed and discouraged because he starts to think there is a part of himself that wants to hurt his brothers

He just doesn’t realize that Oblivion has no love of anything, no compassion. He doesn’t care about anyone. He’s not Kyle really. He just has all of Kyle’s powers and his insecurities

Kyle is the real homie. Love that he and Hal somehow managed to form a bond in the middle of Hal trying to reset the entire playing board and Kyle trying to take him out.

Hal fighting the rest of the super community: Get out of my way or I’ll get you out of my way.

Hal fighting Kyle: You’re doing great kid- do you need a breather? Just let me know

So yes Hal is going to bat for Kyle no matter what has happened.

So are John and Guy. It’s not even a question.

They return Kyle bundled up in someone’s arms. Not unusual. Their torchbearer is a disaster.

But this time they look grimer than usual. Hal, John, and Guy were prepared to keep Oblivion to themselves but Ganthet showed up.

They’re ready to do whatever it takes to keep Kyle safe. They’re not going to let him be punished. They completely ignore Kyle’s protests that maybe he should be locked up and his power taken if he can’t control what he does with it.

But no one is angry at Kyle. The Guardians know exactly why Kyle created Oblivion.

Ganthet: Lantern Rayner we have decided that you were right to build in a fail safe for your powers as the White Lantern. As such we’ve decided to keep Oblivion secured in such the case we need him

Guy: No fucking way. Get rid of that thing

Guardian #4: Calm yourself Honor Guard Gardner. How else do you suggest we regulate a being like the White Lantern

John: We suggest you don’t use Kyle himself to do it. We beat Oblivion we don’t need him

Ganthet: Kyle shut down Oblivion from the inside while you all weakened him. He has done so twice before. It would take more than us to contain the White Lantern if he goes rouge

Hal: I’d like to see you try and keep any part of Kyle restrained. There is no way this doesn’t bite us in the ass

Kyle: well I think-

Everyone: be quiet Kyle

Kyle lighting up and standing taller eyes glowing: I think I made Oblivion because we’re all too biased towards each other. If I had turned into a mass murder you wouldn’t have killed me. You’d have done this. And I’m too powerful to be stuck in a jail. There has to be a better plan than this.

Hal resting his hands on Kyle’s shoulders while everyone else sighs getting ready for the pep talk: Kyle when I went bad when I was Parallax and did all those atrocities you who barely knew me convinced me to stand down. You thought I was a hero all the way till the end. How can you think for even one moment we’d ever ever give up on you?

John: We’ll find another way Kyle

Guy: You bet your ass Rayner now how do we get rid of Oblivion

Ganthet ignoring his brothers and accepting that they have 0 control over the Earth Lanterns: The council defers to you Corps Leader Stewart

Sides it’s not like Ganthet really wanted to keep around something that can hurt his grandkids. You know he does try with the Diplomacy sometimes

I’m imagining them staring down the League ready to fight them to hell and back for Kyle.

Clark: We’ve already done this before. We didn’t blame Kyle then and we don’t blame him now. Sometimes our demons are more literal than usual

Bruce: Of course. You’re one of us Kyle. And you can always come to us for help

Hal: Nope back off Bruce. You keep your terrible life advice in Gotham

Lol Kyle was the only Lantern Bruce really ever liked and I’m imagining the others who can’t stand him being very protective of their brother. All of them think Bruce is a bad influence

[nightcoremoon]

so for the first time I saw batman: the killing joke.

...

it was okay I guess. but massively overrated. I expected some fucking masterpiece of cinema but instead it was just two unrelated short films that were more style and flash than substance.

so first off, barbara's storyline was mediocre. franz wasn't a compelling villain; just a creep, and a trust fund brat. oh wow he's a mafia kid who stole his family's fortune by hacking. if it was the falcone family I'd have cared more but it wasn't so it's just some faceless deathfodder rando. who gives a shit. the whole situation was just a vehicle to shove batman's dick into babs. which kinda fucks over bruce's character here and judging by the timeline kinda makes him a bit of a groomer, yikes. bruce and gordon have known each other since bruce was a young boy and we know that bruce is way older than babs so yeah bruce totally knew her from birth until present day, he literally utilized an active power dynamic to police her crimefighting activities, and he should have fucking known better and stopped her when she kissed him because it would (and did) compromise their professional dynamic, but hey, batdick. and at least barbara recognized that she was behaving emotionally rather than logically when it came to bruce and paris and took the high road out. that would be a serviceable standalone episode to write her on a bus in a serialization but THIS IS A MOVIE. so for a waste of an already short runtime it's like having an appetizer before your meal but instead of something like a crab cake before stuffed flounder, you get greasy onion petals that are more fried batter than onion before getting a well done cheeseburger that's just a glorified hockey puck on a sponge with a kraft single on top. the animation and vocal delivery were excellent of course, not gonna disparage that aspect, so it was well made, but the writing was just not very good. a polished turd. quantic dream must have developed it then because it feels like I watched a david cage production.

so in a 78 minute movie, five of which were the credits, we had a half hour Disney/Pixar short except those bring joy and this brought boring. also there were a lot of shots of her ass tits and underwear that were obnoxiously male-gazey and there was a token gay for the sole purpose of dangling a carrot on a stick for the queers. look kids, warner brothers and dc comics cares about the lgbts! give us money! a waste of time before the real reason why anyone came to see the movie that literally only exists to pad out the runtime to make it a feature length (even though paying a full ticket would've been a total ripoff because, again, IT WAS ONLY 78. even 9 was 81 minutes long and that had an amazing storyline so I forgave it, but 78 minutes? ugh.

also, GOTHAM RAGE??? CRINGE. SO CRINGE.

alright now for the joker segment.

*ahem*

what the fuck? that sucked! *throws tomato*

mark hamill and the joker's lines and the art and the cinematography and the choreography was all good and the plot was cohesive. I get it.

but holy shit was the writing weak as fuck.

okay so some rando breaks the J-ster out of Arkham (already unlikely but ugh whatever), he didn't turn a trick or recruit or anything, he just went to purchase a carnival. or, steal one. but wait, he DID recruit, but he went to get all of the stereotypical Circus Freak™ stereotypes. little people, fat lady, bearded lady, wolf man, strongman, diaper man (wait, what?), and the two headed woman. I guess if you don't really think about why all of them were super readily available in the outskirts between arkham and gotham [i just realized they both end with -am] then it makes enough sense. and then literally right after that HE RECRUITS SOME GUYS TO HELP HIM KIDNAP GORDON. and then strips and photographs barbara. um. ew. you can tell the writer and director were men. Alan Moore is constantly molesting women in his comics and this one trick pony should be put down already. but whatever. the plot is weak and it only gets saved by the flashback sequences.

oh.

oh no.

they're not that great.

he's a failed unfunny comedian who just wants some money to move his wife to a better house so he turns to thievery with the mob. OR YOU COULD JUST STOP GOING TO THE BAR AND BLOWING IT ALL ON BOOZE. I mean the cops knew where to find him after all so clearly he's a repeat customer (or moore is a bad plot writer who relies on convenience and shut the fuck up and don't critically analyze it). alright so he gets wrapped up in the mob to perform a heist on a playing card factory. GET IT, BECAUSE HE'S THE JOKER??? and he uses the moniker of the red hood to retain his anonymity. I expected the mobsters to be working for francisco but no the paris storyline was only cooked up screenplay for passing the runtime so why would they do something clever and interesting and make the film cohesive? that'd be really stupid to make the movie feel more like one movie and not two short films. at least when grindhouse & planet terror did it they advertised themselves as an anthology film. whatever. he falls in the vat of acid which melts the red hood to his face and I gotta say that's actually a pretty good idea to get his face white and his hair green and his lips red. I like that part. oh wait I forgot about the most important part! his wife gets shoved in the refrigerator. OH WOW THAT'S JUST SO COMPELLING AND ORIGINAL, TOTALLY NOT SOMETHING THAT ALREADY HAPPENED TO GREEN LANTERN. TWICE. although she wasn't literally shoved into a literal refrigerator like alex was. rip in frozen pieces you absolute legend of a trope namer. alright, so... so the joker is sad because his wife died. you know, the wife we saw for two minutes and knew the moment we saw her drenched in sepia she was gonna die. and she died offscreen. kyle's gf died and he was fine. gordon's wife died and he was fine. batman's parents both died and he was fine. oh boo hoo someone I love died! fuck off. I am so goddamn sick of people trying to justify their evil with "I was sad once". it's a stupid trope and it's not compelling. the only valid version is doctor doofenshmirtz' evil(er) version in the PF movie because it's hilarious that it's because of a toy train because that's the emotional depth that fridgewomen is treated with in all of these storylines. but at least batman said so. oh yeah, I almost totally forgot, batman's in this movie.

batman punches people and nonlethally takes them out. by suffocating them and letting them get stabbed and throwing them into pits of spikes and HEY WAIT A GODDAMN SECOND! okay let's just ignore that bit and hope that the little people squeezed between the gaps in the spikes and the strongman could breathe in the face mask and the two headed women had KO gas and the fat lady was fat enough that the knives only stabbed her cellulite. it wouldn't be the biggest reach one would have to make in watching this fucking disaster of a plot mess.

now I did like that it was actually batman, and by that I mean he gave a shit about the insane because he recognizes that mental illness is not a cause of dangerous or criminal behavior, just a potential exacerbating factor if it wasn't treated. yeah he brutalized mobsters and crime lords but they were mostly in self defense while gathering intel. he politely asked sal maroni and the sex workers for information and they gave it to him without violence- he manhandled maroni but only after he reached into his pocket for a cigar which could've been a gun. also batman says sex work should be decriminalized if only by not ratting them out to the cops. he was a genuinely good person in the second half of the movie. too bad it was ruined by the shitty first half that made him a borderline groomer.

joker's song was... bad. mark hamill performed his ass off but the song wasn't that good. it just tried to be willy wonka if he was a voyeuristic monster. oh yeah have the only girl character be paralyzed stripped and photographed only to give her father ManPain™. again... the fuck? joker and batman were both gross but, again. male writers. if it was a one-off I could drop a thermian argument because, alright one and done makes sense, especially 1988 standards. but it saturated and soured the entire goddamn movie because of abhorrent pacing decisions. so you're goddamn right I'm gonna bring it up twice! joker was a creep, his plan was dumb, nolan and burton and lord/miller and even ayer had better motivations. YES I AM SAYING THAT JARED LETO'S JOKER HAD BETTER WRITING THAN MARK HAMILL'S JOKER. not nearly to the level of ledger nicholson or galifanakis but hamill didn't have a lot to work with here and I maintain that his performance was amazing; honestly I like his the best out of all of them but just... not here. but I think I can cut some slack to firelord ozai and luke skywalker even if he just phoned it in here which he didn't. writing was just weak. and that's all there is to it. don't anon me and threaten to remove my bones ok?

alright so batman and joker fought and joker got the upper hand and was gonna kill him but it was a prop gun. haha. they had a heart to heart and batman tells joker that he wants to help him get better, even after joker killed robin and molested barbara and traumatized gordon and did countless other travesties, he still said he would help. but joker said no, and told a joke that was good enough to make batman laugh. and then the credits rolled.

...

what a completely pointless and empty ending. oh it's deep and meaningful and poignant? ok sure, I guess, movie, but you didn't earn that. shyamalan did the same thing a dozen times. that doesn't make him any less of a shit writer.

I can understand the concept of batman laughing at joker's joke, humanizing him.

I get it. I see what they tried to do. I respect it.

but this movie was massively overhyped and overrated and I expected it to be so much better than it was. but overall to me it was just another batman cartoon to throw on top of the pile. maybe it was influential to graphic novels. maybe it shaped batman into what he is today. it published right as tim burton's movie and I can respect its place in the pantheon of comic history. but sometimes things that are classic...

aren't that great.

citizen kane, casablanca, the maltese falcon, the treasure of the sierra madre, gone with the wind, singing in the rain, all of them are classic and legendary pieces of art. but they're just not that good, interesting, appealing, watchable, or FUN. they were good at the time- I mean come on we all know them today- but on going back you'd have to really appreciate the finer details to still love the movies today. and this belongs there, in the vault, to be appreciated from afar. influential if dated.

but god am I still disappointed nonetheless.

TL;DR

it was just okay. had some good ideas, had some really bad ideas, had some ugly stuff. overall mediocre. first half 5/10, second half 7/10, overall 6/10.

[justlightlysedated]

you're the only place that feels like home

inspired by this gifset by @vlamito

*

one.

Kyle thinks that he should get paid for being the Alex wrangler, apparently no one has seen him for days, and Liz had come back from the cabin looking worried, so Kyle had sighed and thought about it for all of thirteen seconds before he realized the only place Alex could possibly be at.

He tells Liz that he'll take care of it, and leaves her in his office as he takes the drive to the junkyard.

Alex's car isn't parked at the front, but neither is Michael's truck.

He gets out of his car and goes to the Airstream. It's early in the morning, and there are hardly any sounds, so he can make out the low whir of the generator running as the heater keeps the inside of the Airstream warm, and since Michael's average core temperature is somewhere above 108° there is only one other person who would be inside.

He knocks on the door, but no one answers.

He sighs, long and loud and wishes that he wasn't the only one of his friends who seems to have become an actual adult during the last ten years.

"Alex," he yells knocking on the door even louder, but still nothing.

"Alex!" He yells again. "Come on! I know you're in there!"

The door opens then, almost hitting Kyle in  the face, and Alex looks entirely like he's been spending the last couple of days he's been missing, sleeping.

His eyes are half lidded, and there are pillow marks on his cheek and his hair looks like a rat's nest and his clothes are all rumpled and not even his, and he also smells a little like he hasn't showered in all that time as well.

"What?" He asks, making an attempt to glare at Kyle and managing to just look really tired.

"I know you're catching up on your beauty sleep, but your friends are getting really worried about you."

Alex's brow furrows, "Why?"

The confusion on his voice is clear, and Kyle really doesn't want to be the person to tell him that no one knows where he is because no one thinks he and Michael are anything more than exes who made each other miserable.  

"Because they haven't seen you in days," Kyle explains carefully, like he's talking to a two year old.

Alex just rolls his eyes and rubs one of his eyes, yawning.

"At least send them a message that you're okay."

Alex gives him a sheepish look. 

"I left my phone at the cabin."

Kyle looks up to the sky to ask for patience and then sighs when he looks back to Alex to see him leaning back against the side of the entrance, eyes half closed.

"Fine," he says. "I'll let everyone know that you're okay, please try to make it to Friday Night Dinner at Isobel's this week so that people don't think I'm lying."

Alex just nods his head, and turns to go back inside.

Kyle rolls his eyes, and closes the door after him, turning around and getting into his car.

He should have at least taken a picture, but at least he tried, and that should be enough for Liz.

two.

Liz stuffs Michael's keys into her pocket so that she doesn't lose them and climbs up the steps to get into the Airstream, humming to herself as she does.

She looks around the small space for the desk area and stops short when she sees that she's not alone.

Alex looks entirely too comfortable, sitting down on the small cot, back towards the far plywood headboard. His laptop is balanced on top of his lap, and there are thick headphones covering his ears, and his fingers are moving quickly across the keyboard, but he doesn't seem like he's working. Not with the slight smirk curling his lips, like he's in the lead in a race that's about to finish.

Liz is just frozen staring at him, wondering what the hell he's doing there, when he raises his arms in the air in victory, doing a little shimmy and saying yes, before he looks up and spots Liz.

He doesn't look like he's been caught doing something he shouldn't, just a little surprised until he recognizes her and he smiles, pulling the headphones down to hang around his neck, and she can hear whatever it is he's listening to, which sounds like the victory music from Mortal Kombat.

"Hey," he says, like they're meeting in a public place by chance and not inside of Michael's Airstream.

"Hi," she says, feeling a little wrong footed. "What are you doing here?"

He raises an eyebrow at her like she's the one intruding into his space, "I think the better question is what are you doing here?"

Liz gives him a defiant look, "Michael gave me his keys and asked me to pick up the rest of the serum he left in here."

She raises an eyebrow at him expectantly.

"I have my own key and an open invitation that dates back ten years," he says giving her a sharp smile and then setting the laptop aside to drag himself to the other side of the cot and then he's knocking on the counter on the side and then on the top and the drawer opens up like he just did a magic trick.

"It gets stuck," he says like that explains anything.

He reaches into the drawer and pulls the two vials of serum out and holds them out to Liz.

Liz takes them, and just watches as Alex smiles, and says. "It was nice seeing you."

And then he's settling himself against the wall, hair illuminated by the sun coming through the window, and he slides his headphones back over his head and puts the laptop back on his lap and promptly forgets all about Liz.

Liz can tell that she's been dismissed so she tightens her hold on the vials and walks back out of the Airstream not bothering to lock it behind her.

three.

"Look," Michael says a little too loudly, sounding frustrated and tired, but Isobel doesn't really care. "I'm not saying that we shouldn't try. I'm just saying that we should wait until the next lightning storm, so that we can be at full power."

Isobel scoffs, "If only there were some resident brainiacs around that could synthesize a serum for that, oh wait!"

Michael rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to argue, but then the door to the Airstream, opens with a loud squeak that drags both their attention to it, and Isobel's annoyance at the interruption turns to surprise.

Alex stands on the bottom step of the Airstream, looking like he just spent the last ten minutes tossing and turning and running his hands through his hair, trying to sleep, to no avail.

He looks like he hasn't slept in a while, and Isobel would feel sorry, but she had no idea that Michael had company, especially when he's still dating Maria.

She turns to him raising an eyebrow, and Michael is looking at Alex and grimacing.

"Sorry," he says, and Isobel hears Alex make a wordless noise that Michael apparently understands because he holds his hand out with the coffee that Isobel had brought him.

"What are you doing here, so early in the morning?" Isobel asks as he grabs the coffee from Michael's hands, voice implying the reason that she's thinking.

Alex and Michael turn to her in unison and it makes her feel odd to see it.

"I sleep here sometimes," Alex says.

"He sleeps here sometimes," Michael says at the same time.

Isobel's eyes narrow, but Alex takes a sip of the coffee and makes a face before handing it back to Michael.

Michael doesn't look too apologetic. "There's some from the office in the thermos on top of the counter."

Alex makes a low noise, that Isobel would classify as a moan of pleasure before he's moving fast, back to the Airstream.

Isobel watches Michael as he watches Alex go back inside, something fond in his gaze and she rolls her eyes so hard she sees the curvature of the Earth.

"Just think about it," she says sighing when it takes him a while to turn back to her. "And not just about the serum."

She raises an eyebrow pointedly, and he just gives her a confused look like he has no idea what she's talking about.

four.

Maria exhales roughly as she kills the ignition and tries not to feel like she's making another mistake.

Last night had been rough and long time coming, but she had also said some things that she really didn't mean.

She broke up with Michael last night and while she doesn't exactly regret, she does know that if Michael asks her for another chance she'll say yes.

Their relationship had more complications than she had been expecting when she slept with him in Texas, but there were moments that made the fights and the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she had done something wrong, worth it.

She gets out of her truck and walks with determination to the Airstream.

Even if they don't get back together, at least she can let him know that she didn't actually mean it when she told him to never come back to the bar.

She stops right at the door and takes a deep breath before she knocks on it.

There is no answer.

She exhales in a rush and looks around herself and sees that Michael's truck is there, so unless he slept over at Isobel's, he should be here.

She looks at her watch and sees that it's almost noon, so Michael should be awake already, since he never sleeps in later than six on a good day.

She knocks on the door again, but once again, there is no answer.

Maria purses her mouth and then tries to open the door.

It opens easily, and she shakes her head at the amount of careless that Michael is, but she bites down on her lip. 

She didn't come here to start another fight.

She came here to fix things.

She walks into the Airstream, and looks over to the bed, and feels her heart jump into her throat.

She moves closer, almost like she's in a trance and stops right by the edge of the bed when her foot hits something heavy.

She looks down and feels dread creeping into her, until she picks up the bottle and notices that the seal hasn't been broken.

She looks back to the bed.

Michael and Alex are curled up like puppies on top of the bed, sheets tangled down by their feet. They're facing each other and their legs are overlapping and their hands are curled together in the small space between their chests, and their foreheads are pressed together.

Maria feels a pang in her chest, but also an overwhelming feeling of relief that at least Michael had someone to lean on when he was upset instead of drinking and setting back his progress.

She stares at them, at how they're still asleep even though she made enough noise walking in here, especially Alex who seems to have taken the Mad-Eye Moody's approach to life, and is constantly on edge making sure that he's always fully aware of everything.

She's seen Michael sleep that deep only once and it was settled in bed with Max and Isobel.

She wonders how they could get that comfortable in that small bed to sleep that well, but there is a small part of her that she doesn't want to acknowledge that it probably has nothing to do at all with the bed.

She tightens her fingers around the bottle and leaves, making sure to close the door behind her.

She'll call Michael later. And hopefully he'll actually pick up the phone now that they're  not dating.

five.

Alex is lying back on the tailgate, shirtless and wearing a pair of swim shorts and bug eyed sunglasses.

One of his hands is hanging from the edge, close enough that if Michael wanted to, he could hold it, but he doesn't.

He just lies back in the kid's swimming pool full of icy cold water that he set in the shade of the truck, to keep himself cool when it seems like the temperature wants to kill him, and stares at it, wondering what Alex would do if Michael reached out and threaded their fingers together.

Instead of doing that, he looks up to the sky, his own pair of shades protecting him from the deadly sunlight and asks the question he's been meaning to ask for a while.

"Why are you here?" He asks, and he can feel Alex freezing, even though he's not watching him. "I mean, you have your own place, and probably a more comfortable bed, and even a living room, but more importantly an AC unit, but still, you're always here."

There is a moment of silence before Alex moves, turning on his stomach and leaning his head on his arm to look down at Michael.

"Do you mind?" He asks, and Michael has to actually look at his face because it sounds like he's worried that Michael actually minds.

"No," Michael says like it should be obvious, and Alex smiles at him, a soft warm thing that Michael never sees him pull on anyone else.

It always sends a mad fluttering in his stomach.

"But you do have your own place," he repeats.

"Yeah," Alex says, wrinkling his nose. "But it doesn't feel like home." 

"And you feel at home here?" Michael asks, incredulous, but his heart starts racing as he waits for Alex to reply to the question.

Alex purses his mouth, and looks like he doesn't actually want to answer, but he sighs and lets his hand drop, to hang off the tailgate, fingers barely touching the water right by Michael's leg.

"It's more like," he says in a low voice, almost like he doesn't want Michael to hear. "I feel at home wherever you are."

Michael feels his stomach clench and his heart race, and he wants to drag Alex down from the tailgate and settle him on his lap and kiss him until they forget that they're not together, but instead he reaches out and takes Alex's hand.

He feels the way that Alex freezes, and holds his breath for a second.

Alex slowly exhales, and he slowly threads their fingers together.

Michael feels a warmth in the pit of his stomach, and he smiles before he looks back to Alex who Michael can tell is staring at their hands even though he can't see his eyes.

"You feel like home to me, too," he says in an equally low and secret tone.

Alex smiles and squeezes his fingers.

#malex fic #i just saw the gifset and was like #isnt it amazing how many malex scenes are in or around the airstream #almost like it replaced the toolshed as their safe place #ANYWAY #i havent posted something in like a week #and you're all lovely and wonderful and amazing #and i love y'all more than you will ever know #thank you for reading 😊💖

[melyaliz]

The Eyes of a Falcon

Fandom: DC / Young Justice 

Summary: Jennifer’s new obsession leads her to an animal testing lab where she meets a new friend. 

Pairing: slight Dick Grayson x Oc

Notes: This is just a fun story during the origin of my OC Jennifer O’Neal aka the Falcon.

Jennifer’s Masterlist 

References to this story 

Annabella is owned by @the-shadow-of-atlantis

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE 

-------

Ping

Jennifer glanced up from her reading to pick up her phone. Alfred’s name popping up. 

I’m almost there

Glancing at the library clock Jennifer realized it was close to closing. Better get checked out and meet Alfred outside. Gathering up everything the brunette quickly darted toward the front coliding with a tall man in a dark suit. Letting out a soft squeek Jennifer dropped her books everywhere. 

“Oh excuse me,” Jennifer said bending down picking up her books. The man watched her, Jennifer could feel his eyes studying as she gathered her things. 

“You look familiar” 

“Oh,” Jen said getting up confused,

“Are you a performer?” 

“No, but my mother was a dancer about 14 years ago, Deborah Wayne?” 

“You look just like her… but... “ He paused leaning forward slightly studying her face. Jennifer bent backward trying to get a little distance from the man. Personal space buddy, “You must have your father’s eyes.” 

Blinking slightly Jennifer frowned. She had been heard several times how much she looked like her mother. But, her father’s eyes were hazel while Jennifer’s were a blue-green color. Maybe he meant the shape? 

“Well thank you,” Jennifer stammered taking a slight step back giving herself a bit of room between her and this man in his crisp black suit. In her pocket buzzed with a text coming through. Glancing down she saw a text from Alfred letting her know he was outside ready to pick her up. “My ride is here… but it was nice to meet you Mr--” She paused waiting for him to give his name full intent to run a background check on this man with no sense of personal boundaries. Perks of having Batman as an uncle.  

“Nice to meet you too little Miss Deborah Wayne.” The man in the black suit said holding out his hand. 

Deciding to also not give any information either Jennifer shook his hand before talking out. 

“You know most people sit in the back,” Alfred said as Jennifer slid into the front seat next to her uncle’s butler. 

“Yeah but then I can’t talk to you,” she said placing her books by her feet before buckling in. 

“Was it a success?” 

“Very much so, got all the books I’ll need for my phycology paper and a few on cybersecurity  also…” she bent down pulling up Le Miserables “the movie comes out next year so I want to brush up.” 

“Sounds like you have a few days of reading ahead of you.”

“Just in time with everyone gone.” Jennifer chuckled flipping through the large novel excited to go home and start it. “It’s just you and me this weekend Alfred. We should order pizza and have a full sleepover.”

“I was thinking maybe some nigiri?” 

“Alfred! Did you hear me mention that I was missing my local shop in Japan?” 

“I may have” 

“I guess the pizza could wait one day.” 

Glancing up Jennifer caught sight of herself in the reflection of the window. Frowning she reached up pulling down the small sun visor mirror catching the reflection of her eyes looking back at her. Bright blue with hints of green. Slightly oval in shape with thick dark lashes that matched her brown hair. 

“Something wrong miss?” Alfred asked as the teen next to him frowned at her reflection. 

“No,” Jennifer said closing the visor turning to look out the window as they approached the mansion. “Just got lost in thought about how excited I am for that nigiri.”  

------

Jennifer flipped through the books while typing out notes on her laptop on the kitchen island while Alred prepared their dinner. While, as Alfred had pointed out, she could probably get more work done at her desk or even in the -newly found- Batcave Jennifer preferred to study with other people around. It made her feel just a little less alone. 

“I thought you had a psychology paper?” Alfred said glancing down at the book on DNA and human expiration.

“Yeah, well…” Jennifer paused glancing sheepishly up at Alfred, “I just needed a few more questions answered for… another class.”

“I don’t remember you taking anything medical-related.” 

“I…” Jennifer felt her face heat up and tears fight back behind her eyes. Stupid don’t CRY! She wasn’t sure if it was from the memories of Ryan coming back. The body of that little boy laying slumped over in his closet…

NO STOP IT.

“Jennifer…” Alfred’s voice was soft as he reached out touching Jennifer’s hand, “There wasn’t anything else you could have done.” 

“I know,” Jennifer said choaking back a few wet laughs trying to push off the rush of feelings. “It’s more, I’m interested in this rise of Meta’s and.” she glanced at her books than back at the screen “Call it a hobby.”

“Maybe it’s a Wayne trait.” Alfred said more to himself than her, “To become a little obsessed with your hobbies.” 

“Yeah, maybe it’s just written in my DNA” 

--------------------------

“Wow we were gone like four days and it looks like your room exploded,” Annabella said as she came into her cousin’s room. Books and papers lay all over the floor like a huge map. A rainbow of sticky notes covering everything.  

“Hey Zen! Glad to be back?”

“I guess,” Annabella said looking around the room for a moment before turning to her cousin. 

“Did Dick get the stuff I sent him?” 

“Yeah, I think? How come you are just helping him and didn’t just join the team?”

“Alfred has better food?”  Jennifer said laughing as Annabella bent down catching the glimpse of a picture of some kittens. 

“What are you doing anyway?” 

“Research.”

“On Selina?” the young Wayne asked holding up a picture of Selina Kyle dressed up in her leather Catwoman outfit.

“You know her?” Jennifer asked feeling a rush of excitement. “She’s been at a few of these labs that do animal DNA testing and… I’ve been trying to figure out why.”

“She’s very into animal rights, almost too much sometimes.” Annabella said, “used to date dad and she was always nice to me.” 

“Kinky,” Annabella frowned and Jennifer quickly caught herself “I mean… interesting. Anyway, could we talk to her?” 

“Sure why not.”   

----

Finding Selina was harder than Zen had let on. Apparently, if Seilna didn’t want to be found while on her animal crusade she wasn’t going to be. But then again, did Jennifer really need to find her to ask what the labs were really up to when you could wear a mask and call yourself Animal-gender? 

Ok, that’s not really fair, Robin wasn’t Robin boy… but still. BatMAN and CatWOMAN had dated.  For some reason Jennifer was getting a bigger kick out of that then she really should. 

“That’s Dick’s bike.”

“Zen!?! How long have you been there?” Jennifer asked turning to her cousin 

“I followed you down, you were really lost in thought. Also, what’s with the mask? Are you going out? Are you going to the Young Justice? Can I come?” 

“No, I’m breaking into a lab and don’t want anyone to know it’s me and I’m pretty sure uncle will kill me if you come.” 

“Do you even know how to break into a lab?” 

“Dick’s been showing me some stuff.” 

“Do you like him?” 

Jennifer paused, where did that come from? Yes, she liked everyone, she was a people person, she liked lots of people. Plus it helped that Dick liked to show off so just a few “wow can you show me how to hack into a quantum level security system” with a few batting eyelashes could get you very far. 

“I like Dick but not the way you are insulating.”

“I think you’re wrong.” 

“Ok” 

“So can I come?” 

“To the lab?” Jennifer sighed thinking it over, I mean uncle let her hang out with the teen league. Plus being alone in that creepy animal lab… did sound a little scary. 

“Sure, you have your own bike I’m assuming.” 

“Of course” 

------------

“These… I have never felt Animals like these” Annabella frowned as she walked through the cages while Jennifer scrolled through the files downloading the ones that seemed like the information she was looking for. 

“What do you mean?” Jennifer asked her cousin glancing up for a moment. From one of the cages, a large Falcon watched her. He was so still, his yellow eyes making eye contact with him. Almost like he was listening to her. 

Ok weird. 

“I don’t know how to explain it” Annabella mumbled, “Like… some of them I can’t hear.”

Jennifer glanced at the bird again, his eyes flickering from her to the girl then back at her, “Which ones?” 

“Those Rats are faint and… Annabella glanced at the bird who was now looking at her. Body so still for a moment he looked stuffed. “Him too.” 

Quickly Jennifer did a search on F-22d19. Files and videos popped up. Her eyes scanning through it “oh… my… god…” 

“What?” Annabella asked turning from a cage where a few puppies were sitting. One of them licking her fingertip. 

“This place is way more than animal testing… these findings… they are from humans. Crossbreeding and meta geans. This place is super low level but…” Jennifer paused clicking deeper in her eyes flickering to the Flacon in his cage. The bird’s head leading forward slightly. Their eyes met and it nodded. Like it noded. 

It fucking knew what was going on. 

Jennifer felt goosebumps running up her legs as she downloaded the information. 

“Annabella? Annabella?” 

“Oh shit it’s Dick,” Annabella said cluching her earpiece. 

“Oh hey, Dick.” 

“Why is my motorcycle outside KOLE Bio Lab?” 

“It’s a long story.”

“One I feel like your father would like to hear about.” 

Both girls looked up to see Selina Kyle standing in the doorway. Arms folded over her chest.  

“Selina!” the younger girl launched herself at the leather-clad woman hugging her. 

“Catwoman…”

“And who are you?” Selina asked pointing to Jennifer as she hugged Annabella back.

“Just another curious cat?” Jennifer said flashing her a weak smile hoping the woman would appreciate some cat humor.  

“What’s going on? Jen are you here too?” Dick’s voice sounded over the headsets. Jennifer bit her lip trying to stay calm. 

“Well if you stick around that curiosity is going to kill you, I am about to set this place a light. Just need to let these little babies free.”

“Are there more?” Annabella asked. 

“Three other rooms, this place is just where they keep the recent experiments. The homes and I use that term loosely, are down the hall.”

“I’ll help!” Annabella said, “I can keep them calm.”

“Give me 10 more minutes?” Jennifer asked biting her lip knowing she was asking a lot from a woman she had only just met.”

“Make it 5, I don’t trust boy wonder out there.” 

“Robin’s outside?” 

“Saw him riding up when I got here.”

“Shit ok, I’ll hurry.” 

Nodding Selina and Annabella dashed off to free the animals leaving Jennifer to finish her work. 

“Robin?” 

“Yeah?” he sounded annoyed

“I’m sorry but… can you just wait there? We are coming.” 

“Why are you in there Jen? What is going on?”

“Nothing.” Jennifer lied as she quickly dragged a few more files onto her hard drive. 

“Don’t look at me like that?” she said to the falcon as he came closer to the bars giving her a rather judgy look. “I’m letting you and everyone else out I promise.” a simple nod and the started circling his cage, antsy.  

“Is someone there?” Dick asked shit that’s right he could hear her.

“Just another bird boy, he may even be cuter than you.” 

Dick laughed at that, “I doubt it. What, you think I’m cute?”

“Sure, objectivly you’re a good looking guy.” 

“Uhhh thanks, your good looking too… objectively.”

Jennifer was about to respond when the alarm went off. REALLY? It had only been two minutes. 

“Really Catwoman! I’m telling your boyfriend.” 

“Jen, What's going on? Did you just say Catwoman?” 

“No time.”   

“Shoot!” Jennifer moaned as the animals started freaking out in their cages. Lights flashing and… did she smell smoke? “Shoot!” Jennifer said getting up. How was she supposed to open these doors? And Dick’s constant questions in her ear wasn’t helping. Pulling out the ear peice she put it in her back pocket with her harddrive.

“How do we get out?” Jennifer asked turning to the falcon. I mean he already acted like he knew it all. However, all she got was a screech large wings flapping. 

Think Jen Think….

Then she saw it. How could she have missed it? A panel on the wall with numbers on it. A string of keys and a switch. 

Quickly she grabbed the keys flipping the switching praying it was that easy. 

Come on.

And it was. 

The doors swung open animal escaping in a frenzy all of them seemed to be gathering around her. Quickly she dashed through the cages picking up any animals that would hurt themselves if they lept from the higher cages. All of them rushing toward the door the moment their feet hit the ground. 

All but a small white kitten who’s little claws clung to her hissing at the sight of the laminated floor. 

“Fine princess,” Jennifer mumbled tucking the kitten under her arm as she quickly trying to doge the animals as she reached the door fliting it open.

“Let’s go!” she screamed running down the hall grabbing a fire extinguisher as she ran, her small army of lab animals after her. 

The large falcon at her side flying next to her its screeches like a battle cry. 

----------

“Where’s Jen?” Robin asked his sister as she came running up Selina in tow. The whole lab alight with activity. Catwoman laughed turning to her handy work. 

“Worried your girlfriend can’t keep up?”

“You just left her in there?” 

“She should be fine…” Annabella said her tone less sure than her words. 

A Large crash came from the large bay window about a yard away from them, the second floor.

 “Viva La Revolution!” Jennifer’s voice cried following the shattered glass as she flew out landing, surprisingly gracefully, on the emerald grass below. Animals swarming around her, rushing toward freedom. Mice, rabbits, and even dogs rushing past her like a small army dashing off in every direction toward their freedom. 

Slowly the brunette stood, a swarm of birds flying around her before taking flight into the night sky. 

All but one. 

The large falcon gently floated down landing in her open gloved hands. It nodded it’s large head at her as if thanking his savior. Then spreading his wings he took flight. The momentum of his motion making her long brown hair fly out as if she too had wings. 

As if she too could fly away into a crystal filled sky. Join them, free from the cages that held them. The pain, that needless pain, that kept them chained to the ground.

To fly away as free as a bird. 

The sight was unlike anything Dick had ever seen. In that moment he didn’t even recognize the girl. It was as if at that moment she transformed into someone… something else. 

“Woah” 

“You’re girlfriend's something else.”

“She’s not… never mind, You ok?” Dick asked walking toward Jennifer who turned to him blinking as if she had just woken from a dream. 

“I…”

“Meow” 

“Kitty!” Annabella squealed dashing toward the little animal. It took one look at her and ducked back into Jennifer’s jacket pocket. Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh.

“Princess didn’t want to run with the others so I had to carry her,” she told her cousin fingers stroking the soft white fur. 

In the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard.

“And that’s my cue” Catwoman said giving the kids a little salute before running off into the night with the other free animals.  

“We should go,” Dick said nodding toward their bikes. “Will you be able to ride with the cat?” 

“I think I can keep up.” 

“Cool.” 

-GET TAGGED!-

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​ @coffee-randomness​​ @werewitchling @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear​​   @jason-redhood​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

#Dick Grayson #Young Justice #Young Justice fanfic #Young Justice OC #Young Justice x oc #Young Justice x reader #Jennifer #Feathers #Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson x oc #DC x oc #DC oc #DC fanfic #My writing #my fanfic #my oc

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

This Love (Chapter 1) - Zadison

Hello! As promissed, here is the first chapter of my Zadison Fanfic! I’m also posting it at AO3, were I do believe is a better place to read it, so you can go check it out here!

Madison kept staring at the girl across the table all night. People were passing food around, talking, laughing, sharing stories and having fun. But Madison couldn’t bring herself to feel the same. She wasn’t hungry and she wasn’t happy. Well, she wasn’t usually happy, but that’s not the point.

Zoe was talking with Mallory and Queenie with a big smile on her face, waving a potato on her fork while listening to her best friend talk about her time playing cards with the creepy ghost at the hotel. Since she got back, Madison hadn’t had time to exchange a word with the girl. Zoe ran away from her like the plague during their time in the Outpost, and then Madison had to go to the Murder House to help some ghosts to get laid. The second she stepped back into the Academy, the witches were talking about the new Supreme and she was dragged to that stupid dinner.

Madison was surprised to have a third chance on life for sure, even if the world was showing more and more everyday that it will end sooner than people would like. If Mallory was the solution, Madison was sure they would all die and go live in hell holding hands. All she wanted to do was to fix things before Cordelia sent her away again.

But Zoe wasn’t even looking at her.

The former actress had to fight the urge to kick her under the table to get her attention. She wasn’t even sure what she was going to say, but she just wanted the girl to look at her.

“Why are you burning holes into Mallory’s head?”

Madison almost laughed in the girl’s face. Coco – what a stupid name – was an idiot if she thought Mallory was her issue in life. “She’s not that special, bitch.”

Zoe was finally looking at her. Really? She just had to insult someone to have the other girl glaring back at her? Madison wanted to jump over the table and tackle the girl to the ground. She wanted to take the stupid potato off the fork and make her swallow it. She wanted to get up, turn around the table, and hug Zoe. She wanted to scream at her, but she also wanted to hold her close.

Time in hell was nothing but an empty room to fill with more hate toward costumers and to think. And think she did. That was the only thing she could do other than hear people screaming at her and folding towels.

She had plenty of time to think about all she had done in life that made her go there. If that was God’s plan when he sent people to Hell, he sure was doing some good work, she thought. Madison had done a lot of things in life that could be a reason or even the cherry on top that sent her to hell, but she didn’t regret any of it. Well, she regretted one thing, but she was trying to fix that.

If only Zoe would stop staring at her like that, she might be able to speak again.

“Is there any problem?” Zoe looked older, wiser. Of course Madison was expecting that, she did spent two years in hell and time don’t stop in real world like it stops there, so Zoe had time to catch up their age gap. But it wasn’t her look that made her seem older, no. It was her eyes. Madison, or anyone really, could see how wise the girl was, how smart. Responsible, even.

Madison was impressed. If her time in hell made Zoe look older, but it only made her look more miserable. The blonde was miserable in hell and she was now feeling miserable when she got out of it. She felt hopeless too.

“Not at all.” Madison replied in a sarcastic tone. “Just wondering if you aren’t already bored with the poor version of the Swamp Rat and the fat version of Oprah.”

Zoe finally put her stupid fork back on her plate, passing the tip of her tongue on her lips while turning completely to Madison. “Can’t you respect anyone but yourself?”

She was screwing up again, Madison realized. She didn’t even try, but she was already failing hard. “Whatever.” Madison pushed her empty plate away from her and got up. “I don’t need to be here, anyway.” She declared, walking away right after.

“Madison.” She ignored Cordelia’s voice – who the fuck she think she is bossing her around like that? – and went up the stairs.

Madison wasn’t sure where to go from there. Her old room was surely occupied by someone else, or it was all reserved for Zoe now that she was part of the council, and she didn’t know if there were any empty rooms. Madison didn’t have time to go back before being sent away to the Murder House, so she didn’t even know if there was a space for her there. Cordelia was sending her away again in just two days, so the answer was probably ‘no, no place for you here’.

She was about to burst in a random room and take it as her own, when she sensed someone getting close to her. Madison recognized the magical signature, but it was even stronger that she remembered. How many responsibilities had she gained the last couple of years? She wondered.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from the losers.” Madison mocked, letting go of all the insecurities she felt just a few seconds before.

Zoe looked her up and down and Madison started to feel exposed in her short, tight dress. She felt more than exposed, she felt worthless. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’re shivering.” Zoe pointed out. Madison registered that she was looking more and more impatient. “Do you want me to...”

“No. Why do you care? Why did you come after me?” The smaller girl took a step back. She couldn’t stay too close, not when Zoe was looking so good in her black dress, not when the other girl looked ready to rip her throat out. “I let you die. I didn’t bring you back. Why do you even care if I’m anything but dead?”

Zoe took a moment to answer, looking at the older girl like she was a puzzle to be solved, like she was an enigma, like she was insane even. “I do remember that, yes.” The dark blonde crossed her arms just for a second, before letting them fall by her sides again. “Queenie told me.”

“Of course the poor Oprah would do that.” Madison rolled her eyes, trying to hide the fear on her face. “Where is your puppy slash zombie boyfriend?”

“He was expelled.” Zoe’s answer came fast and short, but she didn’t seemed angry or sad. She still had yet to stop looking at Madison’s eyes, and that was getting on the actress’ nerves. “For killing a witch. I don’t know where he is right now, if that’s what you want.”

“Why aren’t you with him?”

“Why aren’t you with us at the table?”

They stared at each other, neither daring to look away from the others gaze. “Cordelia is sending me to stay with the Swamp Bitch and her Swamp Queen.” Madison finally spoked. “Since I don’t have any use in this place.” Even with her best effort, her voice still cracked a little. She hated herself for that.

“Don’t be mean to Misty.” Zoe’s voice had got softer. “She just came back from hell.”

“So did I.” You just weren’t there to see me offering the Antichrist a blow job, she thought. “In case you forgot.”

“I didn’t.” Madison crossed her arms, ready to speak again, but Zoe beat her to it. “I’m sorry Kyle killed you.”

That caught her off guard. She wasn’t expecting Zoe to be sorry for it. In fact, Madison was kinda expecting she would be sad that she came back to life. “You should train your dog a little bit better the next time, assuming you don’t want that to happen again.”

The taller girl sighed and shrugged. “He was sad I was dead. But still wrong of him to choke you to death.”

Madison was even more surprised the girl knew how she died the second time. Did Zoe refuse to bring her back too? Did everyone refuse to bring her back? “Did you go to hell when... you know?”

“I don’t think so.” Zoe thought about it for a second. “If I did, it was so fast I don’t remember it.”

Madison was happy. The girl didn’t deserve to live in hell, not even for a couple of minutes. They were so different from each other, the perfect representation of yin and yang, that the former actress could laugh if she wasn’t about to freak out. “I’m sorry for not bringing you back. For someone who has been dead before, I should know that it sucks, so I shouldn’t have let you stay like that.”

“Why did you?” Zoe looked lost for a second, like she forgot two years had passed and that she was more powerful now that she was before.

Madison wondered if she ever tried to teleport again after that day. “I don’t know.”

Zoe scoffed. “Right.”

“I’m serious. I didn’t find out why until I was in hell and some stupid manager was screaming at me because of some towels.” Madison took a deep breath. “I don’t think I figured it out until a few minutes ago, actually.”

“Do you know why, now?”

“Yeah.” Madison uncrossed her arms and looked down to her feet. She was feeling tired, something she has to get used to feel again. “But I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“Why not?”

“Because Cordelia is sending me away in two days.” Madison looked up again. In the back of her mind, she realized they had been standing in some random hallway for almost twenty minutes now. “And I don’t know when I will be back. If I will be back, because she don’t seem to want me around much.”

Zoe looked away from her eyes for the first time since they started to talk. Her eyes flicked to Madison’s lips, before meeting her eyes again. “I’m pretty sure it’s not it. Cordelia has a plan.”

Madison felt like she could sleep on her feet at any moment. You can’t feel tired in hell, she wasn’t used to the feeling that climbed her body. “Whatever.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“Not now, no.”

“When?”

“When I’m back.”

Zoe almost smiled. Almost. “Why?”

“Because I can’t deal with that right now.” Madison’s honesty took Zoe by surprise, but the smaller girl didn’t even care that her bitch facade was gone.

“Come on, let’s go.” Zoe tried to take Madison’s hand on hers, but the other girl took another step back.

“What?”

“To the bedroom. You seem tired.”

“I don’t have a room.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “My room, you can sleep there.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“But why?”

“Did you ask Satan’s Son that many questions too or is it just me?”

A small, almost unnoticed, smile crossed Madison’s lips for only a second. “I didn’t care about him.”

Zoe arched both of her eyebrows. “And you care about me?”

“Let’s just say that I would mind if you died.”

“You must be really tired to say those things.” Zoe sighed again, finally managing to hold Madison’s hand with hers. “Come on.”

Madison followed her blindly to the room’s door. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it right this time, but it seemed like it.

#ahs #zadison #zadison fic #american horror story #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #ahs imagine #imagine ahs #zoe benson #madison montgomery #zoe x madison #madison x zoe #madison montgomery x zoe benson #zoe benson x madison montgomery #emma roberts #taissa farmiga #femslash #wlw #american horror story coven #american horror story apocalypse #ahs fic #ahs fanfic #multi chapter #love

[drones-of-innocence]

The Terminator: Exogenesis

“Don’t forget your gas mask.”

“Yea, yea, I know.”

The mutter came quietly as Alfred ripped the mask off of the old rack, which very nearly came apart behind him. The other gas masks barely managed to stay hooked, swaying freely until the momentum passed on. After the creaking stopped, the only sound was dulled footsteps marching away, marching outside.

With a hardened, stubborn look, Alfred climbed the ladder with a purpose that kept him moving briskly. He skipped a rung with every step, hauling himself up with an ease that didn’t look like a closed up feeling was chasing him up and out. He couldn’t stand being underground for too long at any given time, even if it was how they survived. Instead, he let his fears lead him out in the open, where he’d learned to blend into the remains of society.

As he climbed out, he took a big breath. But before he could even fill his lungs, he coughed it back out until he retched. With a shuddering, reluctant breath back in, he finally slid the gas mask over his face until he could filter out the polluted air. He sighed, but it wasn’t enough. The gas mask was too artificial, he was just like them. He wasn’t really breathing, a device was basically doing it for him, and he hated it. He hated being anything like the machines.

He stayed close to the walls of abandoned buildings, huddled in his makeshift poncho the color of the dust. Like every day, he wandered around the skeleton that was once a city, now an empty shell devoid of all life.

The dry wind picked up a bit, and the fumes from the factories miles away were nauseating. Even from so far, Alfred could see the massive machine makers. He glared, wrinkling his nose at the smell. The clouds of smoke had covered the sky permanently, poisoning the atmosphere and gathering so thickly that the sun wouldn’t shine down anymore. That was one of their methods, to shut out the human race once and for all. The others involved the Terminators.

Alfred moved on, stepping over the bodies of both sides of the war, around old cars and dismantled machines, until he heard a snap. He went up against the wall in the alley and froze, keeping his head low and looking around for any sign of life. The dead city was normally so silent that it was deafening, and if it weren’t for the bones and gutted cars still laying around, Alfred wouldn’t have known it ever was alive. It was hard to remember what a city was supposed to look like anymore.

He hated having to breathe slowly through the mask, but the machines had better ears than dogs. Sure enough, just as he turned his head, a Terminator walked right by along the main street.

The Terminator was an older model; Alfred recognized the design, and he supposed that was why it carried its weapon so openly. That face couldn’t pass for human like it once could, especially with the sunglasses. When the model was new, the only thing that kept it from destroying the resistance were the dogs, who could tell human from Terminator.

The machines stopped making Terminators explicitly to kill humans, and started giving them other purposes. Instead of just killing, now they had the capacity to dismantle anything obsolete, salvage parts and supplies, and dispose of bodies. The model that roamed within Alfred’s sight was an ARTHR, or Allocation of Residual Traces of Human Remains. Its purpose, Alfred learned, was to erase any sign of humanity.

Alfred narrowed his eyes. If he were allowed to carry his gun, he would have blasted the machine’s head off before it could say “Terminated.”

O~o~O

“We have to figure out how to destroy them from the inside.”

“You realize how dangerous it is, to bring one here.”

“Of course I do, but it’s for the greater good! If we don’t, we’ll be living out the rest of our lives like rats, scurrying for cover. The machines can wait us out if they have to. We have an actual lifespan.”

Alfred sighed deeply, listening to the conversation that he wasn’t really a part of. He was allowed to listen now that he was supposedly an adult, but that didn’t mean he was really included. He had no say in what the resistance did. He lounged against the wall he was leaning against, resting his chin in his palm and lazily looking between John and Kyle, who dominated most of these conversations.

“They have the technology to travel through time! How are we going to replicate that?”

“We don’t have to, we just have to get in there and use it before they do.”

Time travel? Alfred frowned. “Why do the machines need time travel?” he asked before he could stop himself. The men stopped in mid sentence, and turned to look at him with slightly exasperated expressions. Alfred sat up and blushed slightly, and struggled to explain himself. “I mean, uh, well they don’t really need it do they? They already think they’ve won! They don’t know that we’re still…” he trailed off at the look that John and Kyle gave him, and looked off into space. “Oh...So you think they do know that we’re still here.”

Kyle sighed gravely, and looked at the ground. “We don’t know. We’re below the radar, so maybe they just suspect we’re in hiding. In any case, time travel can’t be good. They want to alter history, change it so that we never had a chance.”

Alfred felt the heat rising to his face, the anger bubbling up before he could control it. “Then why aren’t we fighting?! We’re not surviving anymore, we’re just hiding! We’re just cockroaches living in the walls! No wonder the machines are winning, we’re just a bunch of cowards!” he stood up, glaring at everyone in the room, and noticed how Kyle held back some biting response. He narrowed his eyes, daring Kyle to tell him he was wrong.

Instead, John stood up. “Alfred, I know you’re upset,” he said gently. “You’re right; we have been doing a lot of hiding. But sometimes the best thing to do is to be patient and wait for an opportunity like we have now. Our patience has paid off; the children are alive, and there’s plenty of us to sustain our way of living.”

“Patience my ass,” Alfred mumbled, the anger already ebbing away. “What opportunity can we possibly have? There’s nothing we can do but fight.”

John looked at him with wisdom that went beyond his years. “Fighting isn’t always the answer, Alfred.” he chuckled, like it was amusing. “Look, I know it seems we have no choice. But there is; we found a way to reprogram the chip that powers a Terminator. We need one here so we can try and get it on our side.”

Alfred sputtered for a moment, trying to find the words to convey just how stupid the idea was. “The machines are evil, John! They’re out to kill us! You really think we can just get in its head, and whoopdedoo, have our own Terminator?”

“Yes. I do.” John replied, showing absolutely no reaction to Alfred’s yelling. “And you know what? You can be the one to bring us one.”

“John!” Kyle stood up, shocked and desperate. “He’s just a kid. Don’t make him do this.”

But John’s expression was already calculating, already plotting just how the plan would go. “Alfred would be perfect. He’s quick, and he can be quiet. And he’s got guts. He can learn something from this just like we can.” he smiled slightly, his eyes hard and set. “Alright Alfred, we’ve got a job for you.”

O~o~O

They made him go out when it was dark. The faint orange of the flickering sodium lights were the only thing that lit the desolate streets. The dust danced around him and the smoke wafted in as plumes of toxic gas, dissipating only with the hot breeze. Struggling to take in a full breath of the thick, humid air, Alfred hugged the walls and moved as quietly as he could over the gravelly roads. From where he was, he could just make out a silhouette just ahead.

The ARTHR from before still patrolled the city near the resistance, methodical and meticulous in his nature. Alfred wrinkled his nose at the robot. It was programmed that way, after all.

Alfred particularly hated the Terminators. They were designed to pass as human to make getting close to the various groups easy, and even for him, it worked; the ARTHR could easily pass as a man, and he couldn’t help considering the Terminator a he. At least the drones were obviously machines, but it was a little harder to see the Terminators as such.

As he stalked the ARTHR down the deserted roads, he kept to the shadows and the walls, keeping his gun hidden under his poncho. He stayed on his toes, his gaze steady on the machine. He watched, as the ARTHR turned over bodies in varying stages of decomposition and surveyed abandoned vehicles with a face devoid of expression.

Just walking around, doing nothing but what appeared to be exploring, Alfred could briefly see the ARTHR as a fellow human. Minus the sunglasses, the coltan endoskeleton, and the whole program designed to kill humans, the Terminators really could pass as one of them. But he wasn’t, and Alfred refused to accept the idea. Focused on the ARTHR, he didn’t look where he was going and ended up stepping right through the ribcage of some long dead body.

Immediately, the Terminator looked up in his direction. Alfred had sunk to the ground and pretended to be a body just as the ARTHR began coming towards him. Another thing he hated about the Terminators was their complete lack of urgency; they didn’t need to run or hurry like the humans did to get away. They just marched on like the mindless machines they were. Alfred readjusted his grip on the gun below his poncho just as the Terminator finally came upon him.

He really didn’t pass for a dead body, and he was recognized immediately. The ARTHR grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up above his head, searching his face for any sign of life. Then, just as Alfred opened his eyes and the robot reacted, he pressed his gun to the ARTHR’s gut. “Shouldn’t hold me up for dramatic effect,” he grinned, before he pulled the trigger.

The ARTHR had a seizure-like reaction to the high voltage, and Alfred immediately dropped to the ground once the robot was down. He watched it jerk until the current passed, and his smile fell away.

He hadn’t ever really seen a Terminator up close before. The children were always the most protected, always ushered further underground to stay as far away from the battle as possible. Terminators were an adult fight. That was back when the T-800s were their main battle, when massive men with tattered jackets and gargoyle sunglasses tried to invade their hideout. Now, looking at the ARTHR, he noticed he wasn’t as big as the T-800s or the T-1000s. Then again, the T models were just programmed with Hunter-Killer functions. The ARTHR had programming that went beyond just taking out the humans, and Alfred supposed they would learn what exactly those functions were soon.

He was grateful for only a moment that he wouldn’t have to be dragging one of those huge T-800 models back to the resistance, as the ARTHR looked to be more of a lightweight model. But once he tried to move the ARTHR, he realized the Terminator was much heavier than it looked.

O~o~O

The process of reprogramming a Terminator was a little disturbing.

Kyle, John, and the others who were working on him knew the chip was inside his head, but they had no idea how to access it. They pored over diagrams and plans, trying to find what they called a “Neural Net CPU,” which would give them access to all of the ARTHR’s functions. They assumed it would be the same as the T-800, but they couldn’t be sure. Alfred sat boredly in front of the ARTHR, studying his face, while the others worked behind the robot.

He wondered just how the machines were able to make the ARTHR look so real. Sitting there, tied to his chair, it almost looked like they had a human hostage. He had short, messy blonde hair and a long, dark jacket that looked just as dirty as their own clothing. With his lanky build, he almost looked like he could afford to eat more, if that were possible. He didn’t know if robots could eat.

John seemed eager to try and get into the system, as they weren’t sure how long the ARTHR would take to reboot itself. He approached the robot warily with a small knife, referencing the diagram one more time, before bringing the knife to the ARTHR’s head.

Just then, the ARTHR’s eyes snapped open and he began jerking in his chair, trying to escape. Alfred jolted back, watching the ARTHR yank at his arms with the most blank expression he’d ever seen. What chilled Alfred the most was how the ARTHR’s eyes stayed on his the whole time, unwavering. While John and Kyle scrambled for a stun gun behind the ARTHR, Alfred tilted his head.

“Do robots eat?” he asked him.

He broke free from the chair, ripping itself from the binds, which made Alfred lean back once he realized he was defenseless. For just a moment, the ARTHR stopped, and blinked once. “No.” he replied, before John whipped around with the gun to electrocute him again.

This time, the ARTHR’s eyes stayed open as it powered down again, falling back in the chair. He stared at the floor, unseeing and presumably unconscious.

John sighed with a warning look at Alfred. “Do you realize how stupid that was? Look, we don’t have much time. Now he knows how to adapt to the gun, so we have to work quickly.” He picked up his knife again, and Alfred averted his eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The robot was free, for just a moment, and yet it stopped to listen to Alfred. A Terminator didn’t even need a moment to make its move, so what stopped the ARTHR from killing him?

Making a wobbly incision, John worriedly checked the diagram every other moment to make sure he was outlining the correct place. Then, without so much as a slight flinch, he peeled back the bloody skin over the ARTHR’s head. From where he was sitting, Alfred could still hear the slick skin being displaced, and felt himself go a little pale. A bit of bile rose in his throat out of sheer disgust, and he struggled to swallow it down. He didn’t know how John could stay so composed.

Even Kyle seemed slightly put off by the ARTHR; he looked at the head with a wrinkled nose, and a slightly questioning look to John as he accessed the compartment that held the chip.

“Here,” John said, and held up a chip with his pair of tweezers. Kyle quickly held up a small tray so he could drop it. “Now he’s completely powered down. He won’t be waking up again until we replace the chip, so he’s safe now. But we have to hurry and reprogram it; we don’t know if Skynet gave it some self destruct function.”

Those were the last words spoken for a couple of hours. John and Kyle worked on the chip with another woman, replacing the codes with their own commands. The silence was too awkward for Alfred to leave, so he slouched on the makeshift bench and watched the eerily still Terminator.

When the ARTHR had grabbed him on that street, he easily could have killed Alfred instead of waiting. Alfred was beginning to feel slightly strange about the whole ordeal. He was incredibly irresponsible for even making an attempt to speak to the Terminator, as he had been warned time and time again that the Terminators wouldn’t hesitate. So why didn’t the ARTHR make any move to attack him? As grateful as he was that he wasn’t dead, he wasn’t sure he’d like the reason behind it.

He shifted uncomfortably, eventually wondering if the Terminators had a concept of taunting. Had the ARTHR been teasing him, making Alfred think he was safe? It would set the perfect stage for the robot to kill him unexpectedly, once Alfred’s back was turned. Was that how they killed the humans now?

John stood with the altered CPU after what felt like a year just sitting there. With steady hands, he carefully inserted the chip back in its proper place, and sealed the mechanism. Then, he folded the bloody skin back over the ARTHR’s head.

“There,” he said softly, like he was releasing a breath. “That should do it.”

Immediately, the ARTHR’s eyes came in focus, and he slowly looked up at Alfred. He didn’t appear to be aware of the others behind him.

Alfred swallowed thickly, and glanced nervously at Kyle and John, before he looked back at the Terminator. He had green eyes, he realized, and a hard, steady gaze. It was slightly intimidating, to be right in the ARTHR’s crosshairs. Yet, he made no move to stand.

“Uh.” Alfred said intelligently.

The ARTHR made no movement to acknowledge him. He didn’t even blink.

Worried, Alfred looked back at John and Kyle, who also watched the Terminator warily. It hit Alfred very suddenly that this was the first time they had ever attempted to reprogram one of Skynet’s soldiers. It could very well have backfired and the Terminator was just deciding on the most efficient way of killing them all.

Then, the ARTHR made a move to stand. Everyone in the room jumped back in alarm.

Still looking straight at Alfred, the ARTHR spoke. “I have the ability to process food, but it is not necessary.”

Alfred blinked several times. “...What?”

The ARTHR stood and regarded Alfred with his programmed indifference. “You asked if robots eat. I am not a robot, I am a cybernetic organism. I do not require sustenance like humans.”

John and Kyle looked at each other, with expressions just short of elation. Alfred couldn’t help but smile nervously and laugh at little as well, but he still stayed a good distance away from the machine. “Oh. Uh, that makes sense.” he shuffled and kicked at the ground, staying on his toes in case he had to make a run for it. But the question was eating at him, so he finally had to ask. “Why didn’t you kill me out there?”

Immediately, John’s smile fell and Kyle looked directly at Alfred with a wide eyed look. They weren’t sure what he was talking about. The ARTHR considered this, deciding on his response, before he slowly came forward. Alfred jumped, stumbling back a step, but the ARTHR simply stopped and stood right in front of him.

“You have a few years left.” His eyes flitted up and down Alfred’s figure, observing his skittish demeanor. “You are not ripe yet.”

Then, he turned and started marching out of the room after he grabbed his sunglasses, ignoring John and Kyle as they came back to life, shouting and going after him.

O~o~O

Alfred had taken to calling the Terminator Arthur. A-R-T-H-R was a mouthful to spell out every time, and naming the robot somehow gave him less of a reason to hate him. At first, John advised against it, but eventually, he gave up the scolding and would just let Alfred interact with Arthur more and more often. However, Arthur did not seem pleased with his nickname. Inevitably, he would correct Alfred and recite his designated name and model number.

Arthur was incredibly valuable to the resistance; he had so much information about Skynet’s plans for the future, and would be able to accurately lead them to the TDE, or Time Displacement Equipment. He confirmed that Skynet intended to send a Terminator back in time to alter the past and change the future, and agreed the only way to preserve the human race as they knew it was to beat Skynet to the TDE.

They had time. Skynet was waiting out the resistance, sending out legions of ARTHRs to squander them. What they didn’t expect, was the answer to Alfred’s question the day they reprogrammed Arthur. Arthur had recounted his encounter with Alfred out in the city, and explained in great detail the amount of chances he had to kill Alfred.

That earned Alfred a very, very long lecture from John.

The reason Arthur didn’t kill Alfred, was because, as he had stated, Alfred wasn’t ripe. What he meant by that was Alfred wasn’t old enough. Through that, the resistance uncovered a deeply horrifying plan Skynet had that they wouldn’t have thought to ask about otherwise.

Skynet was preserving the children. While the Terminators killed anyone past the age of twenty five, they left the children alone.

“Well, that sounds awfully merciful,” Alfred frowned, not sure if he heard correctly. By the look on John’s face, he knew sparing the children wasn’t a good thing.

Arthur looked at him with that familiar, steady gaze. He had learned to simulate breathing at appropriate intervals, but he hadn’t yet picked up on natural expression. “It is not mercy. We do not feel mercy.” he corrected Alfred. “The Terminators do not kill the children anymore because Skynet plans on harvesting them.”

“For what?” Kyle asked, his voice cracking at some horrible realization.

Without even the slightest wince, the slightest hint that he felt something, Arthur told them. “Humans can provide energy, much like organic batteries. Skynet has discovered a way to harness that energy, and plan to use humans as a power source. That is why they need the children, they need a population that won’t fight.” he explained in a level, impassive voice.

Dinner was deathly quiet that night.

While the resistance plotted their invasion of Skynet to use the TDE, Alfred was tasked with watching Arthur in their free time. Initially, he protested, claiming he didn’t want anything to do with robots, but John explained that in the event Arthur’s programming got corrupted, Alfred would be the safest one to be near him. So, with John guilting him into carrying the safety of the resistance on his shoulders, Alfred found himself sitting with Arthur on a quiet day outside on a roof.

With their feet dangling over the side, Alfred watched the ground below as the wind stirred all sorts of plastic bags and trash around the street. Arthur didn’t appear to stare at anything, but occasionally he’d glance over to Alfred and attempt to copy his movements.

Alfred chewed on the inside of his mouth, and raised his voice so he could be heard through the gas mask. “So why do you wear those sunglasses, anyway?” he asked, feeling slightly annoyed once he picked up on how Arthur was mirroring him. He purposefully struck his heel against the building just to watch Arthur do the same.

Experimenting with the movement, Arthur kicked back against the building just like Alfred, only halting at Alfred’s snickering. He had quickly learned to know when Alfred was teasing him. “The glasses serve to disguise my eyes.” Arthur told him, looking up and making direct eye contact. “I am currently unable to correctly imitate natural eye movements.”

Crossing his arms, he refused to look at Arthur. “So it’s just another way to hide the fact that you’re not human.”

“Yes.” Arthur replied. He looked down at the ground.

Alfred considered his words with a heavy breath that was amplified through the mask, and looked out over the horizon. The sky seemed to be getting darker by the day, having once been such a pure blue. Now, it appeared to be a sickly, nauseous green. He narrowed his eyes, glaring out across the dead city with a heavy heart. The planet used to belong to humans, but the war had reduced it to nothing but a wasteland.

Following his gaze, Arthur watched the blurred line indifferently. “Why do you wear the mask?” he asked, in a tone he had learned to mean friendly. He had picked up on making general conversations to ease tension between himself and the humans, and sometimes it worked, but other times, it failed.

Alfred did not react in a friendly way. “Because you and your damn friends made the air too toxic for us to breathe.” he muttered. “It’s making us sick. It’s killing us. The Terminators won’t finish the job, it’s gonna be the fucking air.”

The breeze picked up, and Alfred sighed deeply. Arthur watched his face carefully to observe the time in between each blink, unwavering and unreacting. Alfred shifted how he was sitting and turned his scowl to Arthur. “You shouldn’t stare, you know. It’s rude.”

“Rude.” Arthur echoed vaguely.

“Yea! Rude! Impolite? It’s where you do things that make other people uncomfortable or upset! Like stare. Or yell. Yeesh, don’t you robots know anything?!” Alfred threw his hands up.

Arthur looked away. “You are yelling at me.” he observed.

Alfred growled. “Yea? Well, you can shut the hell up.”

“I cannot shut hell.” Arthur informed him, kicking at the building again.

With another, smaller sigh, Alfred covered his face with his hands as well as he could with the mask on. He listened as Arthur tried to imitate his sigh. But then, it was silent between them, and Alfred left it that way. He had to breathe, had to remember the man sitting next to him wasn’t really a man. Reprogrammed or not, Arthur was still a machine, and it was machines that were responsible for everything wrong with the world.

He didn’t know how to make Arthur understand that. Maybe he already did, maybe he gathered from observing the resistance that machines were the root of their problems. Or maybe he was above it all, and he looked down on the humans and their silly problems like they were meaningless. He couldn’t begin to fathom what was going on inside Arthur’s head.

A hand came to lay on his shoulder, and Alfred jumped, whipping around to look at Arthur. He opened his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what, but he stopped when he realized Arthur had taken off his sunglasses.

“I am sorry.” Arthur told him, looking at him not with the meaningless stare he had before, but with earnest eyes. “Skynet has caused a lot of suffering. You blame me for what you have lost, and I cannot help that. But I can help the resistance beat Skynet to the TDE. We cannot win the war in this time, but perhaps we will have a chance in the past.”

Alfred met Arthur’s eyes reluctantly, and upon seeing his expression, he couldn’t help a slight smile. “Thanks,” he conceded softly. “I hope you’re right.”

O~o~O

It was a miracle they hadn’t been discovered.

There were too many close calls for comfort, but each time the resistance stumbled upon a Terminator, Arthur mowed it down with a machine gun before it had a chance to react. At one point, Alfred stumbled into the range of a drone down the hall, and froze in his tracks.

“Get down,” Arthur said, just as he released hellfire on the unsuspecting machine. Alfred pressed as flat as he could on the cold, steel floor, not daring to move until the bullets stopped. His ears rang with the sheer volume of all the guns firing, and he couldn’t hear John urging him to get up. The next thing he knew, Arthur had picked him up by the arm and was dragging him along until Alfred could run with them on his own.

Arthur had advised Kyle and John behind his back to leave Alfred behind, because Skynet’s TDE was priority one, so sparing the younger population would be second to protecting the time travelling device. But Alfred wouldn’t have it and insisted he come along, even if he was in danger. He hadn’t known the Terminators would have spared him in the first place, so risking his life was nothing new.

Once Arthur had seen Alfred fire a gun with such control and animosity, he didn’t say another word on the matter.

They had only made it about halfway to the TDE before Skynet became aware of their presence. Left and right, men and women of the resistance were cut down at every turn. Arthur shielded Alfred from any attack, bullet holes spotting his jacket, and John and Kyle did everything they could to keep them moving forward.

Alfred was familiar with death; the whole planet was ruined after Judgement Day, and the bombs had taken his parents and everyone else all those months ago. But he’d never been right in the middle of it, where he could see the life leaving the eyes of friends he had only just started to know. He was too distracted, looking back at the bodies and not at the Terminators who were dead set on killing him.

One of Arthur’s eyes got taken out by a stray bullet, revealing the red light and the silver of his endoskeleton. But he still marched on, dragging Alfred with him and taking down anything that fired. While Alfred looked back, wanting to run back to the lifeless resistance, Arthur and John shared a brief look.

“Alfred,” Arthur spoke, his tone not wavering even as he whirled around to fire at another ARTHR. “Listen to me carefully. We will soon be inside the TDE. Once we get in, you need to follow me into the chamber and follow my instructions. John and Kyle will stay behind to guard the door, but we will not have much time.”

Alfred finally remembered he also had a gun and tried to help, but the best he could do while they were running was take out unmoving targets. He didn’t have the mechanical precision of a terminator. “What are you saying?” he asked, looking ahead and seeing the big doors to the TDE. They were coming up fast, and Alfred turned and suddenly realized there were only the four of them left.

There was a slight moment of hesitation before Arthur spoke again. “I understand now, why this is necessary. History must be changed, if the human race has any chance of making it through this war.”

“What-what do you mean?” Alfred could make out the Terminators coming for them, limping along if they had to. Bullets wouldn’t stop them. “We can do this! Even if it takes years, you know, we always find a way, right?”

Arthur gave him a long, heavy look. “Not this time. Not in this time.”

They burst in, and John and Kyle immediately shut the doors again, holding their guns up with trembling hands as they waited for the Terminators to catch up. Arthur dragged Alfred to the center of the room and shoved him to the control panel, while he himself went and stood inside the spherical chamber. “Set the date to May the twelfth, 1984.” he instructed, adjusting some of the controls near him.

“Got it.” Alfred nodded, and then frowned. “Why then?”

Without even looking at him, Arthur told him. “May the twelfth, 1984. On that day, Skynet will sent a T-800 back in time to assassinate your mother.”

Alfred’s hands froze over the device, just before he could give it the go. “...My mom?”

The Terminators struck the door, and John and Kyle started fighting them off. At the sound of gunfire, Arthur turned to face Alfred. “Skynet wants to kill your mother before you are born. You are going to send me back to protect her.” just before Alfred could protest, shock and confusion written all over his face, Arthur raised a hand. “Listen to me, Alfred. I understand this doesn’t make very much sense to you. I understand now why John wanted me to go back. No child should ever know as much hatred and as much suffering as you. If I go back now, I can prevent Judgement Day from happening at all.”

Gaping, Alfred took a moment to find his voice. “But...Why my mom? Why me?” his voice cracked, and his hands shook over the control panel.

Giving him a dark look, Arthur told him. “Because you are going to save humanity. It is too late in this time, but there’s still a chance in other potential futures. I have to go back now, or there won’t be another chance.” he explained urgently.

Alfred looked to the door, where John and Kyle already lay dead, and saw the Terminators were moving past them. He thought of his mom, but he realized he couldn’t remember her face. A bullet struck him in his side, and another in his shoulder. His hand, having been hovering above the screen, fell on the control panel and confirmed the date.

The last thing he saw was burst of light and a swirl of sheer energy. “Goodbye, Alfred.” and Arthur was gone.

O~o~O

#Usuk #My writing #Terminator au #Kinda a Matrix au too #Aph America #Aph England #Angst #Death #Violence #Terminator!Arthur #Time travel #Sci fi #Hetalia

[forr-everrmorre]

Anastasia - October 14, 2017 Matinee

I just got back from Anastasia and I’m still internally screaming despite it ending like 4 hours ago. here’s my detailed explanation description. (and I mean very, VERY detailed. a lot of it is under a cut bc I get into super spoilery territory)

Zach was on as Dimitry, and Ian and Kristen were on for Zach and Molly respectively. ZACH. DIMITRY.

before anyone asks, I didn’t record an audio. I got so caught up in the moment I forgot lol whoops.

honest to god, even before the curtain went up I was crying when I heard the opening notes of the Prologue.

NICOLE IS SO ADORABLE

during Last Dance Of The Romanovs, the suitor dancing with Kristen didn't lift her properly and right after they looked at each other and he was like "whoops"

the death of the Romanovs actually scared me like they made it terrifying with the window shattering effects and the red EVERYTHING

Lily can actually be seen comforting the Dowager Empress after Last Dance Of The Romanovs

yes, I internally screamed when Ramin came on. don't judge me.

Gleb so confidently says his opening Leningrad monologue, then Dimitry just comes in and roasts the hell out of him

when Dimitry says "Hail our brave new land", he's mockingly waving his arms around while right behind him Gleb is doing the exact same thing and honestly same.

right after that, Gleb like goes up to Dimitry and he legit RUNS OFF STAGE IN FEAR OMFG

during the part where everyone is like saying something good about Leningrad then saying something snarky, Gleb’s face is like "see, great place waIT WHAT"

after singing his verse in A Rumor In St Petersburg, Vlad immediately hits Dimtry with his hat

everyone's so happy during Rumor, but at the end right before the final shhhh, Gleb just gets on the podium and everyone just does the shhhhhh in fear

before moving on, I would like to mention that I love Kristen Smith Davis, Sissy Bell and Shina Ann Morris.

Dimitry is HIDING BEHIND A COUCH WHEN ANYA COMES INTO THE THEATER IM

Vlad's also hiding and it scares Anya when he comes out

now’s a good time to mention that when a song is starting, the projection usually gets like a subtle change in hue and it’s really cool

Gleb does this like intimidating version of the chin thing (tm) that basically LIFTS one of the fake actresses, then he like lightly blows on one of them and they all run away

Anya throws/hits with a book Dimity and Vlad at least 3 times in Learn To Do It

When Vlad makes them dance, at first Dimitry takes these GIANT UNGRACEFUL STEPS AND ITS HILARIOUS

the background changed from winter to spring once it seems that Anya's finally confident in her ability

Gleb's like shouting in his office until he turns and sees who Anya is and his voice just softens in like two seconds

you can tell that even when Gleb is trying to be funny and personable, he's still a stiff military man

THE CHIN THING (TM) WAS SHORTER THAN PROMISED SMH RAMIN

there's one part during the last verse where Anya harmonizes with Gleb, but it's so subtle that you probably can't tell from a recording

when Gleb says “it’s the silence after I remember most”, not only is it dead silent, there’s also the sound of wind in the background

James Pierce quickly became one of my favorite ensemble members just from how he acts drunk before My Petersburg

Dimitry gets like a potato or something from the street rats' fire and gives it to Anya before My Petersburg

ANYA SAVES DIMITRY AT ONE POINT DURING THE FIGHT SCENE

when Zach was climbing the bench for My Petersburg while the turntable was spinning, you could tell he was having a little bit of trouble and it was adorable

(he also had trouble taking the second can of beans out of his bag during Rumor btw)

also ZACH KILLED IT IN MY PETERSBURG

THE LIGHTING DESIGN IN ONCE UPON A DECEMBER GIVES ME LIFE

they project the phantom images of the Romanovs dancing on the walls of the side of the theater. you probably can't see it from the orchestra seats tho

Dimitry lifts Anya A LOT

I knew from the recording that a lot of the actors were fantastic singers, but live, so many of them are STELLAR. Christy, Ramin, and Constantine in particular imo are so much better live.

btw Stay I Pray You gave me chills. that song really lets the ensemble shine. literally. half the song, Christy, John and Zach were just standing there not singing while the ensemble KILLED IT.

Anya and Dimitry leave the train compartment by the time Vlad starts singing We'll Go From There, so he’s basically monologuing the entire time

after Vlad says "I'll bow as if I'm still a frisky young pup" HIS BACK CRACKS

when Dimitry's doing that thing where he's half standing on a bench, half leaning on the train, the ladies on the bench just look at him as if he's crazy the entire time

the way that them jumping off the train transitions into Traveling Sequence was SO COOL

THE STAGING FOR STILL WAS SO

ITS PROBABLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE SONGS PRODUCTION WISE DESPITE HOW SIMPLE IT WAS

so like Gleb's standing off to the side from Traveling Sequence and he starts singing and it's all dark and stuff

around when he reaches "a son becomes a man at his father's knee", a soldier gives him his jacket. then around "I am nothing but a man with nothing but his orders to fulfill", another soldier gives him his train tickets. but then around "until your heart replies", another one gives him a gun.

at the end of it, there's like 4 vague shadowy soldier figures behind him, and he turns around and all of them salute before the lights fade.

Journey To The Past gave me chills. that's all I'm saying.

I never liked Paris Holds The Key that much, but the freaking choreography CERTAINLY made up for it. hands down my favorite choreo the entire show

before Dimitry's lil solo in Paris Holds The Key, it looks like he's about to ask Anya to dance, but someone else grabs her hand before he can. I’m nope

the projection and lighting design makes it look like the end of Paris takes place on the top of the Eiffel Tower and I am so down with that

again, Christy is FANTASTIC live

honestly, Dowager Empress sounds so broken during Close The Door and I am so not ok

Little Anastasia appears behind the windows during Close The Door and I am so not ok

at the end of the number, the Dowager Empress makes a picture she has of Anastasia face down on the table and I AM SO NOT OK

when the doorman of The Neva Club tells Gleb where to get food HE JUST LOOKS SO OFFENDED LIKE “TF WHO DO YOU THINK I AM”

the choreography of Land Of Yesterday is some goOD STUFF M8

theres a good 5 seconds Lily spends shooing Count Leopold away while she’s dancing

after the instrumental break, everyone except Lily is passed out and the lighting makes it look like morning, which is why she stomps her foot and says “the night’s young”

Vlad just sneaks up and is awkwardly facing outwards in the circle dance thing at the end of Land Of Yesterday

honestly The Countess and The Common Man is a blessing and it’s hilarious

right after they say “when you sent me our sign”, they show what it was (it’s like a super subtle hand gesture). they do it at least 2 more times in the show.

during the instrumental break, they’re both just dancing like crazy and the panting at the end involves them stretching, having cracked backs, and Vlad timing his pulse

the kiss after “until you’re kissed” is SO LONG and they do weird stuff during it, I’m just,,,, nope,,,,,

they kiss like 4 more times before Land Of Yesterday Reprise btw

Gleb watches their last kiss and his face just says “what the hell are you people doing”

also freaKIN LAND OF YESTERDAY REPRISE MAN. RAMIN IS SCARY GOOD AT THIS ROLE.

A Nightmare is actually so chilling like I can’t

it does the same thing with the lighting as Once Upon A December where Anya’s the only one properly lit and everyone else looks like ghosts but just everyone being crowded around Anya instead of gracefully dancing around her seriously sets the tone

ASKDJFLGKD IN A CROWD OF THOUSANDS B Y E

THE BLOCKING IS SO SIMPLE BUT EFFECTIVE

ANYA LEANS IN ON DIMITRY WHEN SHE STARTS SINGING

I SWEAR THEY GET THIS FREAKIN CLOSE TO KISSING AT THE END BEFORE DIMITRY DOES THE “YOUR HIGHNESS” THING AND I AM DEFINITELY NOT OK

Vlad’s being alone during Meant To Be makes it super powerful

also, HELLO QUARTET AT THE BALLET

THE WAY THAT EACH OF THEM STAND UP AND FACE THE CROWD WHILE SINGING MADE IT REALLY FEEL LIKE WE WERE SEEING INTO THEIR THOUGHTS

Gleb like almost pulls out his gun like 3 times I stg

Gleb is also the only person who doesn’t applaud at the end of the ballet. he’s also the only guy not wearing a tux at the ballet. (he basically wears the same outfit the entirety of Act 2 until the Finale) they really make it very clear how out of place he is in Paris.

also the ballet itself was AMAZING. Lyrica, Kyle and James were hella good

I swear I was as stressed out as Dimitry was during Everything To Win and I knew what was gonna happen

right before Once Upon A December reprise, there’s the scene where the Dowager Empress comes into Vlad, Dimitry and Anya’s dressing room and like???? it had some gold comedic timing but was also super serious????? how???????

also Dimitry watching Anya and the Dowager Empress being reunited just breaks my heart??????????

that line in The Press Conference where the guy’s like “we do exclusive interviews”, he legit pays off Vlad to start talking and they like talk off to the side until Lily gets everyone’s attention

there’s a phone on either side of the stage during that scene and the sopranos who do that harmony at “the Princess Anastasia” use them almost as microphones and I’m in love?????

GET. ROASTED. COUNT. LEOPOLD.

during Everything To Win Reprise, Gleb is very clearly closing all the doors behind Anya but like Anya never notices until she turns around

also, when she turns around, it does the song transition as perfectly as it happens in the soundtrack and it’s gr9

idk if it was just this performance, but Gleb sounded a lot more somber and conflicted during the dialogue of Still/The Neva Flows Reprise, but then when the singing starts again, he was honestly terrifying, like Anya was legit backing into a corner

this was something I noticed from the bootlegs, but I’m pretty sure no matter what angle you view it from, Young Anastasia is blocked by the archway during Still/The Neva Flows Reprise while you can very clearly see the rest of the Romanovs. idk I just always found that to be an interesting choice

at the end of Still/The Neva Flows Reprise, GLEB ALMOST PULLS THE TRIGGER ON HIMSELF AND DEAR LORD GLEB THAT GOT DARK FAST

listen,,, every time Dimitry has lifted Anya before,,,,,, she like let out a little squeal of surprise,,, except after they kiss,,,,,,,,,, she’s just staring into his eyes the entire time,,,,,,,,,,,, can y’all believe they invented love,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

the Finale was just beautiful ok

especially when the singing starts again and then the Romanovs come on stage around Anya and Dimitry

all around this show was just beautiful and amazing and I cried multiple times

also Zach totally got the loudest applause (I’m pretty sure it was louder than Christy’s tbh) and yes I live for understudy/ensemble appreciation

BONUS ROUND: STAGE DOOR AFTER

Kevin was actually the first person to leave, and a few people recognized him but he just waved and left

NICOLE IS SO SMALL AND ADORABLE

apparently Christy just restocked the candy. time to put Creepy Anya above the candy box again.

John was such a nice dude

Caroline was so bubbly and happy the entire time I love her

BUT CHRISTY FREAKIN ALTOMARE

she took the time to talk to any fan who had something to say to her

like she spent like 5 minutes talking to the people next to me since they apparently all went to the high school she graduated from

and when I talked to her, I told her about how much the soundtrack and Royal Misfits helps me get through the really rough days and and she game me a hug and I’m

not

ok

also Zach came out and everyone was like “DUDE YOU WERE AWESOME AS DIMITRY” and tbh big mood

anyways. thats it from me about Anastasia. except probably not. catch me two weeks later just randomly posting something I loved about the show because it was  r e a l l y  f r e a k i n  g o o d.

#anastasia #anastasia the musical #anastasia broadway #christy altomare #zach adkins #John Bolton #ramin karimloo #caroline o'connor #mary beth peil #grand duchess anastasia nikolaevna romanov #dimitry #vlad popov #gleb vaganov #lily malevsky-malevich #dowager empress #meet the royal mess #hey i made this post wow #btw the large part is broken up so it's easier to read bc no one liked giant walls of text

[wavemaker9]

also saved from another lp the boys did

Kyle: I bet it’s the sheriff! Shoot him! Blake: No, I’m not gonna do that, Kyle. I’m playing with restraint. Kyle: I was never able to do that.

oh shit actually i had a lot of these i don’t think i ever posted?

monster factory with kyle and nz. kyle flipping between all the characters in blade and souls and nz trying to talk before leading into "I'm gonna puke" and Kyle innocently "What're ya gonna puke about?" before NZ stutters & then just snaps back that they're not even looking, so do whatever dumb thing you wanna do kyle

Blake and the Chippettes

blake making a bunch of pervert/daddy kink jokes for rat baby and kyle like why no stop why are you sabotaging our show you're making me very uncomfortable

Kyle adding stupid shit to the characters face while laughing as Blake just "...Sure. Sure.... Sure, why not."

Also in the second life, second chances, if i didn’t already bring this up, blake giving kyle exactly 1 linden less than he needs to get into the club.

Kyle: When the game doesn’t give you the tools you need to fully express yourself, vis-a-vis character creation, there's only one thing you can do. Blake: What is that, Kyle? Kyle: (after scene cut) Jack into the matrix. Blake: (loud laughing) You dork.

Kyle: It's a gashapon! Only a guy's face! Blake: ...A guyshapon. Kyle: (soft, pleased laughter) A guyshapon. just kyle with that quiet laugh and tone

Kyle: He's a pelican now! Blake: He is- that's really- I don't like it!

Kyle: Big money, no whammies! Blake: Gimme a human!

Kyle just "oh uh oh oh no whoops" for a minute straight as blake just wheeze laughs in the background

Kyle talking about how he's doing some detail work this time around for like a minute straight and cut immediately to Blake, bluntly, "I hate it." and Kyle just bursting out laughing.

That “waaaaah!” noise when they talk about jacob jumping at the sight of truck. That’s not necessarily crossover. It can be but just on it’s own it’s good too

Kyle: Aaaanddd here’s Raymond! And blake devolving into helpless giggles.

Kyle: Let's see if we can break Mass Effect! Blake: ...Okay???

Blake's special boy! Blake with the “My boy!” and Kyle immediately breaking out into singing arms wide open.

Literally any point where griffin makes justin break down into helpless laughter is important for the xover. Currently? Kyle with the “JACOB! I’VE COME FOR YOU JACOB!” and then mumbling/eating noises and blake choking in laughter

Kyle: Holy shit. /Holy shit./ Blake: /Kyle-/ Kyle: //Holy shit//. Blake: /-what did you do?/ Kyle: Holy shit. I thought- holy- holy /shit/. Blake: What did you think you were fixing?? Kyle: /Holy /shit!//

Blake: What are you doing? You have to run this by me. You can’t just do whatever you want. Kyle: No.

Blake: What if you mess up the values where he just turns out very handsome? Kyle: (chuckling) That's the dream, right?

my fave ‘fill in taako & kravitz when griffin uses a cockney accent in monster factory' moment is probably Taako asking through giggles if just this head as their whole spore creature is fine because it's got a mouth and Krav "...Yeah, right, that's about what I expected." (also thanks GG playthough I started to type “spore creature” and my brain auto completed to “spore creature creator” because of their running dick joke gag, fuck.)

Kyle getting more and more angry at spore is very important. blake just getting more disheartened and ready to give up.

Blake: ...I think you should, um-. Kyle: What do you think I should fucking do, Blake? You tell me what to do now.

Kyle, very distressed, shouting "Will, this is just fucked up now!"

The "Shreck me, shreck me hard" bit with Blake very desperately trying to get kyle to move on (“I’m ready to sEE THE NEW /FEET/!”) and then just begging for will to crash the game. “Will, please hear my prayers!”

I am tempted to swap kyle and blake for the googling shrek bit. Blake just wanting to know what clothes shrek wears for the game. Kyle googling shrek without clothes first as reference and sending blake funny ones he finds. Blake finally googling it themself because kyle isn’t being especially helpful. On the other hand though, i love those points where blake gets to fuck with kyle back so that’s good too. I had the same consideration for the girls club video they did.

Blake out of the blue with the “Hi! I’m Dar/k/ Vader.” and Kyle immediately choking in laughter.

also there was some gg stuff too?

Austin: Makes me feel... I don't know. I don't know how to explain this emotion. Micha: ...Uh, enjoyment?

Also later for the version where it’s kyle instead of austin because kyle would be way more accepting of his lap being used as a mouse pad. Just way more accepting of all of this in general, honestly. Micha: I’m getting like dangerously closer to your D. Kyle: I- what- do you think I care? Do you honestly think I care? Micha: Probably not. Kyle: What game are we playing right now? What is on the screen? Mel: Yeah, for anyone-. Micha: Uh, a- something created in the Spore creature creator. Kyle: Yes! Mel: There you go. And for any- to fill in for anyone who doesn’t know, uh, due to the lack of space on this couch, Mich currently has the mouse pad resting on Kyle’s junk. And Mich is, ah… yeah, every time he readjusts the mouse- Micha: I am technically giving Kyle a handjob. Mel: Yeah. Micha: …(quietly) Sorry, Ivan. Mel: (snickering) Sorry, Ivan. Hashtag, ~/not sorry/~. Micha: (laughing) Hashtag, whateverrrr!

Mel: This is hard to watch. Kyle: It is. (Mel laughs) It’s making me hard to watch. (Mel laughs louder)

Kyle: It’s like a mous-tache! Mel: It’s like a mis-take!

I really love micha and kyle working together to turn this lp into a 16 part dick joke.

Mel: Kyle and I both put our arms around the end of the couch and just gently touched hands. Kyle: It’s fine. Mel: It-. It’s fine. Micha: (Cutesy voice) I was the ham in the sandwich! (Mel chuckles)

Mel’s repeated and dismissive advice of “Just kill ‘em. Just kill ‘em.”

Micha: (sighing) Okay, what do you want me to kill? Kyle/Mel: Anything! Mel: The first thing you see!

Micha: Well we have to be smart about this. Mel: Why start now?

#ignore this #the thief kid #the suit kid #for one quote #youtuber talk #amusing muse musings #crossovers! unlimited crossovers! #crossovers gg edition

[labourpress]

Emily Thornberry speech to Labour Party Conference

Emily Thornberry MP, Shadow Foreign Secretary, speaking at the Labour Party Conference in Brighton today, said:

  ***CHECK AGAINST DELIVERY***

    Chair, Conference - It’s a pleasure to be back here in Brighton and Hove.

  A city which we can say - once again - has no Tory MPs. And it’s a pleasure to be taking part in a debate where our delegates have such a strong voice,

  And we should all thank Kate Osamor and Nia Griffith who have allowed me to speak on their behalf today so our delegates could have more time. And let me say as well - it’s an honour to be on this stage with our leader, my friend, this country’s next Prime Minister - Jeremy Corbyn.

  You know, some people might remember a certain viral video from election night of a bit of high-fiving gone wrong. But that’s not how I’ll remember that evening. I’ll just remember seeing a friend of mine who had defied all the pundits, all the doubters

and all the expectations. Someone who had proved during the election, who has proved throughout his leadership, who has proved all his life, that nothing is stronger, nothing on earth than a person of principle.

  And it is that strength and those principles, those unshakeable values that are going to take Jeremy into Downing Street and put Labour back into power. After all, it was on this very stage two years ago that Jeremy declared his mission:

  “To put Labour values -- the people’s values -- back - into - politics.”

  And he has achieved that. But thanks to Jeremy’s inspirational leadership, thanks to the brilliant efforts of everyone in this room, we can now set our sights even higher.

It is time to put Labour values, the people’s values back into Government.

Because if June’s election taught us one thing, it’s that if we stand behind Jeremy’s principled leadership, if we stand united as a Party, and if we stand on a radical manifesto, there is absolutely no seat that we can’t win.  And no Tory that we can’t bin.

  So next time, we've got to take the fight into their backyard. Let's go round the coast to Hastings. And end the ambitions of Amber Rudd. Let's go to Chingford. And send Iain Duncan Smith to the Job Centre. Then let's go to Uxbridge. And make sure Boris Johnson never, ever gets into No.10.

  But Conference, please let’s just take a second to sympathise with poor old Boris. Oh come on, just a second. He’s not been happy lately. Apparently he's sick of being blamed for the way Brexit is going and all the broken promises of the Leave campaign.

  I'm sorry, Conference? I'm sorry? Who does he think made all those promises? Who does he think was in charge  of the Leave Campaign?

  I know Boris doesn’t like paternity tests, but we might need one for Brexit. We need to get him in a studio with Jeremy Kyle.

  “Yes, I'm sorry, Mr Johnson…

“We've got the results back…

“It looks like this one is yours…

“It must have been that wild night out you had with Michael Gove.

“I've calculated your maintenance payments…

“That’ll be 350 million a week.”

  But Conference, what a contrast. Here on this stage, you’ve got Labour’s Brexit team - myself, Keir and Barry working every day in harness with Jeremy, John and Diane. All pulling in the same direction.  All focused on the same three priorities. The three priorities we’ve had since Day One after the Referendum - Jobs, Jobs and Jobs.

  While next week in Manchester, we’re going to see six Tory rats, fighting in a sack, not worried about protecting the jobs of the British people. Just every one of them looking out for their own.

  Last Friday, Theresa May said we need to be “creative and imaginative” to get a good outcome from Brexit. Well I’ve got a creative idea for her step aside, end your shambles of a Government, and let the grown-ups on this stage take charge.

  And talking of grown-ups I’m proud to be here representing our great Shadow Foreign Office team: Liz McInnes; Fabian Hamilton; Khalid Mahmood; Helen Goodman and Ray Collins. And I’m proud as well to be speaking on behalf of my friends, Kate Osamor and Nia Griffith. Kate, our Shadow Secretary of State For International Development, facing a world in now constant humanitarian crisis,

not least as a result of climate change.

  As Kate would say, in that world, we’ve got a decision to make. Either tackle head on the root causes of these crises or spend more and more every year dealing with the consequences.  And, under a Labour government. That is a decision we will not duck.

  And Nia, our Shadow Defence Secretary, who has shown that Britain under Labour

will be a strong leader within NATO, committed to spend 2 per cent of our national income on defence. And committed to ensure that those who put their lives on the line for this country the real-terms pay rises and the decent living conditions that their service and their sacrifice deserves.

  In dark, dangerous times for our world Britain must be equally strong and equally committed to defence, development and diplomacy. That is what we offer on this stage. And that is what Labour in government will guarantee. 

  But Conference, make no mistake. These are indeed dark and dangerous times for the world. And too many times, the problems we face come down to people abusing their power and ignoring the rules and values that should govern our world.

  From Venezuela to The Philippines we see the rule of law ignored and originally democratic governments turning into increasingly autocratic regimes. From Myanmar to Yemen we see human rights ignored and flagrant attacks against ordinary civilians qll too often using British-made weapons.

  From Kashmir to Israel and Palestine we see efforts at diplomacy ignored and actions taken on both sides which will make peace harder to achieve.

  From Syria to Sudan, we see the Geneva Conventions ignored and despots committing war crimes with total freedom and impunity. 

  All across Europe we see the basic rules of humanity and the basic lessons of history ignored as cowardly terrorists stalk our city streets and vicious extremist parties rise in the polls.

  And of course, in North Korea  we see the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty ignored with all the terrifying consequences the world is now facing today.

  Taken altogether what we are seeing today is the biggest challenge to the world order since the 1930s and the collapse of the League of Nations.  And if you believe as I do in what Jeremy has called…“A world based on rules and laws” then this is the time, more than ever, when we need our leaders to stand up for that world order. To stand up for human rights and international treaties. And to insist on working through the United Nations for peace.

  But instead, Conference we now have a President of the United States who believes that none of these rules and laws apply to him.

  - Imposing a travel ban on Muslims;

  - Equivocating over illegal settlements;

  - Reneging on the Paris climate treaty;

  - Imperilling the nuclear deal with Iran;

  - And threatening to “totally destroy” North Korea. A country of 20 million men and women. And 5 million children.

This is not what we need from the leader of the free world.

  To be honest, Conference it’s more like what we would expect from a rogue dictator. And what makes it even worse is to see this Tory government and this Tory Prime Minister pathetically going along with it all walking hand-in-hand with Trump at the White House, supine, sycophantic and spineless.

  And why? All in the vain hope that Trump will ride to the rescue after Brexit with some fantasy free trade deal. Because, for this Tory government that’s what their foreign policy has come down to no values or ethics, no rules or principles just a simple case of what works best for the bottom line. How else do they explain why - last week - Theresa May was in New York, finally announcing the suspension of cooperation with the military in Myanmar because of their actions in Rakhine.

  While on the very same day, Michael Fallon was in Jeddah, signing a deal to increase our cooperation with the military in Saudi Arabia wantonly ignoring their actions in Yemen. It is rank hypocrisy. But it also illustrates a basic fact that the world we want to see – a world governed by ethics and values, a world based on rules and laws will never truly exist as long as governments and world leaders get to decide for themselves when it suits them to play by the rules and when the rules can be safely ignored.

  The world we want will never exist when governments like Theresa May’s think it’s perfectly OK to loudly condemn those they regard as enemies but then fall utterly silent when it is their friends in Bahrain rounding up, torturing and executing civilian protestors or their friends in Saudi Arabia dropping cluster bombs on innocent children in Yemen.

  In fact, if they were just silent that would be an improvement. Instead, we have to listen to Michael Fallon saying that the thousands of children killed and injured by air strikes in Yemen are just a consequence of Saudi Arabia “defending itself”…

…“Defending itself”.

  But Conference, it does not have to be this way. Labour can and will do things differently when we are back in power.

And there is one concrete step we can commit to today.

For too long successive governments in this country have taken decisions on granting arms export licences behind closed doors and shrouded in secrecy.

  Just two months ago we had the ludicrous situation where the campaigners trying to stop arms sales to Saudi Arabia for use in Yemen had their Judicial Review rejected on the basis of government evidence presented in closed court a secret court so they were not even allowed to hear the evidence let alone challenge it.

  The fact is that arms export decisions made by Tory Ministers are entirely subjective assessments taken without proper Parliamentary scrutiny without listening to independent, expert advice, but listening far too much to lobbyists for the arms trade and repressive foreign regimes.  A process that leads to nonsensical double-standards, where the Government can decide too late that selling arms to Myanmar is wrong but immediately increase its sales to Saudi. It is an arms control regime that was already outdated. but which the Tories have systematically abused, undermined and left fatally discredited.

  And as the four shadow ministers responsible, Barry, Nia, Kate and I have agreed that it must change. So just as the new Labour Governments elected in 1997 and 2001 Immediately reformed the way decisions were made on monetary policy and competition policy, the next Labour Government will immediately reform the way decisions are made on the export of arms.

  A wholesale reform of the legal and regulatory framework fully implementing the International Arms Trade Treaty with clear rules, tests and criteria for decision-making, based on independent, expert advice and the objective assessment of evidence. A new system, that will prevent the misuse or abuse of licences and adhere to the principles of transparency, true Parliamentary accountability and freedom from undue influence.

  Because Conference, it is not enough for us just to be better than the Tories, we must set an entirely new standard for Britain and a shining example to the world.

And if that sounds like setting our ambitions high, well you’re damn right it is and we should not apologise for that.

  You know, I heard Chuka say yesterday:

“Overpromising and under-delivering…

“…Is one of the reasons…

“…there was such fury with the Blair government.”

  And when it comes to foreign policy, I totally agree with that statement. But the way we avoid that mistake next time round isn’t to water down the promises we make, it’s to keep the promises we make and make sure we deliver them.

We will be a Government that will never put the interest of the rich and powerful above human Rights, The Rule of Law, and the lives of innocent children in Yemen…

A Government that will never put our principles up for auction.

And if we are going to be the kind of government we could be, we do not just need what Robin Cook called for, twenty years ago, when he set out his Mission Statement for the Foreign Office.

  We do not just need an “ethical dimension” to our foreign policy, we need to go much further than that.

  We need what Martin Luther King called for 50 years ago, when he set out his case against the Vietnam War.

  - We need “a revolution of values”.

  - “A genuine revolution of values”.

  - “A radical revolution of values”.

  Because if our mission back when Jeremy was elected, was to put Labour values back into politics and our mission today is to put those values back into Government, then our mission for the years to come must be equally ambitious and equally radical. It must be to put Labour values at the heart of the world order, to be a beacon in every corner of the globe for the values we believe in here at home.

  We have the leader in Jeremy to do it. We have the team on this stage to do it. We have the members in this hall, and all across the country, who will hold us to it.

  So let us make that our mission. And this time -- this time -- let us make it our record.

[flauntpage]

Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia

Ahhh it’s a New Year in Philadelphia. The sky is brighter. The people are friendlier. The puke stench from New Year’s Eve is finally dissipating from the 8th and Market PATCO stop, but the urine funk is still holding strong. It’s 2019. It’s a new year with new horizons and new opportunities to better ourselves and our city.

This is the year, Philadelphia. Can you feel it? This is the year we pull ourselves up from this stink hole and really make a difference. I’m not saying this city isn’t already great, or its denizens pitch perfect, but we can all stand to improve and better our lives for the benefit of us and the loved ones we hold so dear.

Even the best of us can improve. Take the venerable John Middleton, for instance. Maybe this year he can resolve to stop saying stupid shit before the opening of free agency that gets everyone’s hopes up for the signing of Bryce Harper and Manny Machado, while it becomes increasingly obvious that neither of them want to play here. Maybe don’t show your hand before the chips are pushed into the pot, John? And hell, maybe have the doors ready and open to Citizens Bank Park when your #1 target actually deems you worthy of a visit and not leave him and his pissed off wife outside in the cold to be accosted by South Philly electricians, right? What do I know, I’m just spit balling here.

Or hey, even Carson Wentz should have a resolution. He has room for improvement, right? Maybe in 2019 he can resolve to stop getting hurt and force us into this never ending quagmire of a discussion on whether he or Nick Foles is the future of the Eagles franchise. I’ve fucking had it. Carson, either get healthy and take this city by the balls or stay hurt and let Foles and his massive genitalia lead us to the promised land. Mother of God.

But it’s time to look at ourselves in this city, starting first at this site. What can we do better, as people and as fans? What are our resolutions for a better 2019 at Crossing Broad?

Now, I know what you’re all thinking – “Coggin, we love you. You’re hilarious, you’re witty, you’re undoubtedly the most handsome individual at Crossing Broad and we wouldn’t ask you to change a god damn thing. Why fix what is assuredly not broken? You’re the best, and Kyle should really consider stepping down and letting you take over the day-to-day operations.”

Thank you. I wholeheartedly agree with your assessment, but we can all be better people, even the very few of us that are so clearly better than the rest of you swine.

For me, I have two resolutions in 2019. The first is I will try to better appreciate Ben Simmons and his unique talents. I’ve caught myself becoming audibly frustrated at Simmons this season and it just needs to stop. Why? Because after watching the likes of Tony Wroten, Isaiah Canaan, JaKarr Sampson, Hollis Thompson, Henry Sims, Furkan Aldemir, et al bumblefuck their way through 82 games a year, criticizing one of the most transcendent athletes to play in Philadelphia just seems silly.

I once proclaimed giant turd Andrew Bynum as the savior of this moribund franchise. Am I really going to get mad that a once-in-a-lifetime talent like Simmons refuses to take a jump shot? Even if he is the team’s point guard, is 7-feet tall, and one of the MOST ATHLETIC PLAYERS IN THE NBA WHO YET SOMEHOW CAN’T MAKE A CONSISTENT 15-FOOT SHOT OR TAKE HIS GAME TO AN ELITE LEVEL.

Jesus. Stop it Coggin, you’re doing it again. No more of that in 2019.

Oh yeah, and no more Flyers in 2019. No jokes there. I’ve just had it with them. The Broad Street Bullies stunk and this franchise needs to go sit in a cornfield until it gets its shit together. Enough of them.

As for the rest of Crossing Broad? Their resolutions were much more in-depth and serious than the drivel I spouted out.

JoyOnBroad – My Philly Sports New Year’s Resolution is to support the team at this site – a truly great group of people – and continue to make Crossing Broad a great place to take in Philly sports content via the written word and podcasts. I want to keep learning the ins and outs of writing about the Flyers from a vantage point that so few people get to experience. My real goal – perhaps the one I’m the most focused on – is to get Crossing Broadcast back on track AND continue building on the really solid numbers the other shows on the Crossing Broad Podcast Network have done over the last eight or so months in particular. The work that Anthony, Kevin, Bob, and Phil have done to grow their respective audiences is a testament to their hard work. Final one: to continue giving grief to investor Jeff for not having the guts to Tweet out his hot takes.

Chris Jastrzembski – My sports resolution is to try and wait before firing off instant opinions (which sometimes always change towards the opposite side). I hated Gritty when he first came, but now he’s a national treasure. Will I try? Yes. Will it happen? More than likely no.

Kevin Kinkead – My New Year’s sports resolution is to spend less time on Twitter, which has turned into an exhausting rat race of hot takes, political posturing, trolling, and general myopia. I’m really appreciative of our followers and I’ll always try to engage in conversation with the people who read our stories and support the site (and my previous work), but there are too many times when Philly sports Twitter becomes borderline insufferable and I need to log off and go outside to water the flowers or walk the dog or do something basic and rudimentary to regain my sanity.

Philip Keidel – My resolution is not to think any more about Ben Simmons and his inability to make a shot outside 8 feet… midrange jumpers are the worst shots in basketball and I don’t need a 6’10” guy with a handle jacking up threes…let’s be happy with his game as it is…but he has to make more free throws, I’m still going to complain about that.

Jeff Wuhl – I guess my resolution is not getting infuriated and tweeting DURING Sixers games. Only between games.

BWanksCB – I don’t have any resolutions. I possess zero willpower. I’ll try to reduce the frequency that I angry tweet Phillies games, but, ultimately, nothing will change. And neither will my diet.

There you have it. How will you improve yourselves, dear readers? I look forward to reading your resolutions in the comments sections and the 900 comments telling me that my resolution should have been to stop writing altogether or to kill myself.

Here’s to 2019.

The post Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[flauntpage]

Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia

Ahhh it’s a New Year in Philadelphia. The sky is brighter. The people are friendlier. The puke stench from New Year’s Eve is finally dissipating from the 8th and Market PATCO stop, but the urine funk is still holding strong. It’s 2019. It’s a new year with new horizons and new opportunities to better ourselves and our city.

This is the year, Philadelphia. Can you feel it? This is the year we pull ourselves up from this stink hole and really make a difference. I’m not saying this city isn’t already great, or its denizens pitch perfect, but we can all stand to improve and better our lives for the benefit of us and the loved ones we hold so dear.

Even the best of us can improve. Take the venerable John Middleton, for instance. Maybe this year he can resolve to stop saying stupid shit before the opening of free agency that gets everyone’s hopes up for the signing of Bryce Harper and Manny Machado, while it becomes increasingly obvious that neither of them want to play here. Maybe don’t show your hand before the chips are pushed into the pot, John? And hell, maybe have the doors ready and open to Citizens Bank Park when your #1 target actually deems you worthy of a visit and not leave him and his pissed off wife outside in the cold to be accosted by South Philly electricians, right? What do I know, I’m just spit balling here.

Or hey, even Carson Wentz should have a resolution. He has room for improvement, right? Maybe in 2019 he can resolve to stop getting hurt and force us into this never ending quagmire of a discussion on whether he or Nick Foles is the future of the Eagles franchise. I’ve fucking had it. Carson, either get healthy and take this city by the balls or stay hurt and let Foles and his massive genitalia lead us to the promised land. Mother of God.

But it’s time to look at ourselves in this city, starting first at this site. What can we do better, as people and as fans? What are our resolutions for a better 2019 at Crossing Broad?

Now, I know what you’re all thinking – “Coggin, we love you. You’re hilarious, you’re witty, you’re undoubtedly the most handsome individual at Crossing Broad and we wouldn’t ask you to change a god damn thing. Why fix what is assuredly not broken? You’re the best, and Kyle should really consider stepping down and letting you take over the day-to-day operations.”

Thank you. I wholeheartedly agree with your assessment, but we can all be better people, even the very few of us that are so clearly better than the rest of you swine.

For me, I have two resolutions in 2019. The first is I will try to better appreciate Ben Simmons and his unique talents. I’ve caught myself becoming audibly frustrated at Simmons this season and it just needs to stop. Why? Because after watching the likes of Tony Wroten, Isaiah Canaan, JaKarr Sampson, Hollis Thompson, Henry Sims, Furkan Aldemir, et al bumblefuck their way through 82 games a year, criticizing one of the most transcendent athletes to play in Philadelphia just seems silly.

I once proclaimed giant turd Andrew Bynum as the savior of this moribund franchise. Am I really going to get mad that a once-in-a-lifetime talent like Simmons refuses to take a jump shot? Even if he is the team’s point guard, is 7-feet tall, and one of the MOST ATHLETIC PLAYERS IN THE NBA WHO YET SOMEHOW CAN’T MAKE A CONSISTENT 15-FOOT SHOT OR TAKE HIS GAME TO AN ELITE LEVEL.

Jesus. Stop it Coggin, you’re doing it again. No more of that in 2019.

Oh yeah, and no more Flyers in 2019. No jokes there. I’ve just had it with them. The Broad Street Bullies stunk and this franchise needs to go sit in a cornfield until it gets its shit together. Enough of them.

As for the rest of Crossing Broad? Their resolutions were much more in-depth and serious than the drivel I spouted out.

JoyOnBroad – My Philly Sports New Year’s Resolution is to support the team at this site – a truly great group of people – and continue to make Crossing Broad a great place to take in Philly sports content via the written word and podcasts. I want to keep learning the ins and outs of writing about the Flyers from a vantage point that so few people get to experience. My real goal – perhaps the one I’m the most focused on – is to get Crossing Broadcast back on track AND continue building on the really solid numbers the other shows on the Crossing Broad Podcast Network have done over the last eight or so months in particular. The work that Anthony, Kevin, Bob, and Phil have done to grow their respective audiences is a testament to their hard work. Final one: to continue giving grief to investor Jeff for not having the guts to Tweet out his hot takes.

Chris Jastrzembski – My sports resolution is to try and wait before firing off instant opinions (which sometimes always change towards the opposite side). I hated Gritty when he first came, but now he’s a national treasure. Will I try? Yes. Will it happen? More than likely no.

Kevin Kinkead – My New Year’s sports resolution is to spend less time on Twitter, which has turned into an exhausting rat race of hot takes, political posturing, trolling, and general myopia. I’m really appreciative of our followers and I’ll always try to engage in conversation with the people who read our stories and support the site (and my previous work), but there are too many times when Philly sports Twitter becomes borderline insufferable and I need to log off and go outside to water the flowers or walk the dog or do something basic and rudimentary to regain my sanity.

Philip Keidel – My resolution is not to think any more about Ben Simmons and his inability to make a shot outside 8 feet… midrange jumpers are the worst shots in basketball and I don’t need a 6’10” guy with a handle jacking up threes…let’s be happy with his game as it is…but he has to make more free throws, I’m still going to complain about that.

Jeff Wuhl – I guess my resolution is not getting infuriated and tweeting DURING Sixers games. Only between games.

BWanksCB – I don’t have any resolutions. I possess zero willpower. I’ll try to reduce the frequency that I angry tweet Phillies games, but, ultimately, nothing will change. And neither will my diet.

There you have it. How will you improve yourselves, dear readers? I look forward to reading your resolutions in the comments sections and the 900 comments telling me that my resolution should have been to stop writing altogether or to kill myself.

Here’s to 2019.

The post Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia appeared first on Crossing Broad.

Let’s Improve Ourselves in 2019, Philadelphia published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/