#neither i nor you nor alex knows if he was under his own control when he killed her or if the operator was pulling his strings

[creative-clawmarks]

It doesn't matter if you aren't hungry. The parasite demands a predator.

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KO-FI

[yandere-sins]

I see that ur request is open, u don't have to do mine (I just rly wanna see how this gonna turn out 🤡)

But may i request a yandere farmer x fem reader

(I'm not rly into any fandom so you can just pick any or Rhys is fine too 👀)

My jam, and you know what? I owe everyone named Alex something, so let me create this wonderful buff farmer!yandere named Alex who I don’t kill off this time, I promise. Enjoy!

I uh, did hint at my ideas for yandere farmers with Milo from Pokémon before so yeah. Let’s go over that again, shall we? I’ll give a warning for pet play for those unfamiliar.

Rated Lime

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It’s still early in the morning when you hear the jarring sound of the barn door opening. For a moment, you hope that all you experienced for the last few days had been a dream, but your body still aches from sleeping on the cold ground, revealing the heavy truth. You can hear the chipper, “Good morning, ladies!” as the cows start to moo in response, the unbearable smell of fecal and urine drifting towards you with the fresh air coming in from outside.

It’s time to get up, scream, do something! But you blink a few times, your swollen eyes barely opening after you cried yourself to sleep last night, and you look at the iron cuffs around your wrists. Why even trying? you ask yourself, immediately discarding the thought and pushing yourself from the floor. No, it’s too early to give up. You can’t let yourself down like this yet.

“And good morning, Sunshine.” The voice next to you makes you flinch as you look up into the chestnut eyes of your captor. He tips his cap, smiling. You’re disgusted by his presence alone, but a sweet smell comes your way. Leaning over the wooden barriers he put up as your ‘pen’, Alex holds a plate in his hands, pancakes stacking up on top of it with blueberries rolling off of them. The food is still warm, steam visibly rising from them in the colder morning air.

He looks at you expectantly when you don’t make a move, only trying to hide the saliva building in your mouth. You haven’t had a homemade breakfast in a long time, much less proper food in the last few days. There is no telling if your body can still stomach something as delicious as pancakes, but you prefer it so much more than the weird grain mix he also feeds to the cows and would shove down your throat. “Thought you might be hungry, Babe,” he smiles as he sees the desire in your eyes, his own gaze never straying from you, taking in every last flinch and move of yours.

In a way, you are like a wild animal to him, that much he told you. He restricted your movements with chains, fed you like cattle, and treated you like a dog, cooing and using the carrot and stick method to handle you. It’s disgusting, but by now, you at least feel as dirty as one. Using the fork he brought along, Alex cuts off a piece from the breakfast, eating from it first, his eyes staring into yours as he does it. Did he do it to show he didn’t poison it? Does he want to claim this plate of pancakes for himself? But why would he bring it to you in the first place if that’s the case?

Still chewing, he puts the fork down, pulling another pancake piece off the plate with his bare fingers, and holds it out to you. He was eager to lessen the distance between you and him from day one, but his dirty methods made you want to spit in his face. Stomach growling, you are at a loss of what to do. If you let him feed you like a dog, there was no way he’d keep it at that, but perhaps this was your only chance on receiving actual, human food he’d give you if you refuse him.

Your chains rattle as you scoot closer, refusing to play the captured animal and crawl on all fours. Every muscle of yours is sore and hurt from the cold, but there is no other way, the chains around your wrists and ankles keeping you down with their weight. Instead, you stretch your neck as far as possible, your back tensing up in response until your mouth is under his fingers and the piece of pancake hanging from them. But Alex doesn’t just let the food go, watching you with an excited grin as you carefully put the piece between your teeth. Only then does he let go, and you are able to claim the sweet sensation on your tongue as yours.

Eager, Alex holds out another piece, and you take it without even swallowing the first one completely. Something in you completely set out as your brain is satisfied with sugary sweet and fluffy pancakes melting in your mouth, their warmth going through your whole body. You are hooked on the rush of food, you don’t notice your tongue lapping up the syrup on his fingers with the next piece of pancake until it’s too late. But Alex notices, his lips immediately turning into a disgusting grin of self-satisfaction, and he reaches for your face, fingers curling under your chin and thumb rubbing over your cheek.

Immediately, you shy away, disgusted by his touch and disappointed in yourself that you didn’t see it coming. In the reflection of his wide-open, maniacally staring eyes, you can see how dirty and disgusting you are after living like a barn animal for days, and that is precisely how Alex sees you. An animal that he just touched for the first time. Who came to him of their own free will. To him, it is progress. To you, despair.

“Come,” he entices, luring you with more pancakes, but you feign disinterest. “Don’t be scared now. I know you like it.”

The pancakes? Yes. Him? Not at all.

“You need to eat to get big and strong, you know?”

“I’m not a baby animal,” you hiss back, putting on the meanest glare you can muster.

“You sure act like one,” Alex reminds you tauntingly, his smile unfading but his expression less amused than it had been before. “Licking at my fingers, coming to me for food. Don’t you think that’s what a good pet does? You’ve been holed up in your corner for too long. You should be more grateful for my efforts, just like the cows.”

Gnawing at your lip, your eyes fall from his to the pancake slowly growing cold. Only now do you realize he has been feeding you with these fingers of his without your knowledge if they were dirty or clean. Being a farmer, you never know where he puts them before approaching you, and you grow more disgusted for having fallen into this trap he had laid out for you.

Suddenly, for the first time, you hear him sigh. Even when he scratched his head and wondered what to do with you before, he never once had sighed. Somehow, it makes you shudder, a bad feeling spreading in your stomach as he hangs his head, shaking it.

“I’m not asking much, you know. Here’s the deal.” His eyes are ice-cold as he looks up again, and Alex roughly throws the piece of pancake to the floor right in front of you. It no longer looks appetizing, but you are more afraid of the man before you than the wasted food. “Eat it,” he orders commandingly, fitting this whole scenario he imagines you two to play in.

“Ew, no--” you want to protest, furrowing your brows when he interrupts you harshly by throwing the whole plate, including the pancakes, to the ground inside your pen. “In less than an hour, your whole fucking pen will be swarmed by ants. But I’ve got something better for you.”

Pointing to the piece of food before you, Alex repeats, “Eat it,” and this time, you don’t dare to respond. “Eat, and you can come inside with me.”

At this, your ears perk up, eyes widening. “I-Inside?” you ask, doubting that he meant what he said. “Yeah. I prepared a nice box for you in the house, warm and cozy. Clean water and a hot shower included, but I need to know that you are willing to listen to me, you understand?”

Body trembling, you sit there like a deer in the headlights. This is too good to be true, and you fear how high the price is that you’d have to pay if agreed. Listening to him can’t possibly be the only thing he’d want once you were inside, but you watch as the first few flies come over from the cows, wanting to get a piece of the delicious breakfast wasted on the ground. You’d have no peace if you stayed here - never.

Your hand reaches out but just as quickly pulls back. “What will we do inside?” you squeak, unable to control your anxious stuttering. Now that Alex’s lips curl back into a smile, you see his sinister side for the first time. He is leaning casually onto the barricade, but his whole demeanor changed into something horrifying, something that gives you the vibes of a sick and twisted person more than ever. “Don’t ask, just decide. Eat and come inside with me, or stay here between cows, piss, and shit. Maybe you can be useful for milk production?”

The pure horror of thinking about what that fate would entail makes you go weak, and in less than a few seconds, you had gobbled up the piece of pancake, stuffing it into your mouth. Immediately you feel the recoil of your body after doing something so disgusting, but you hold back from spitting it out, already having come so far. “Good girl,” he praises you in a belittling tone like you’d use for pets and children. Opening up your pen by unlocking the many locks he had put on for safety, Alex doesn’t mind the food on the ground, neither slipping on it and breaking his neck like you hoped for, nor having shards of the plate go through his boots.

“Give me your hand,” he asks, holding his own out until you slowly lift yours into his. The chains are way too heavy, but the fear keeps you working even though your wrists are open wounds from the chafing cuffs. “Good,” he keeps praising, repeating the progress for your other hand. “You’re learning so quickly, look at you. Attagirl!”

You don’t dare to rub your bleeding wrists as they are finally free, but a giant boulder falls from your heart as you feel relief set in. “Damn, you do need a good bath, though,” Alex mutters as he sits down beside you, proceeding to uncuff your ankles. You feel a sense of shame, not being able to smell yourself anymore but not wanting to imagine it either.

Finally, you are free of all restrains, but before you can try doing anything funny, Alex picks you up in his arms, his broad chest in front of your face and the smell of aftershave and sweat filling your nose. You didn’t know that was how he smelled. After all, he brought you here unconscious, and when you woke up, you were already in this shitty pen, cuffed and gagged for the first two days.

“Feeling good?” he asks you as he notices how quiet you’ve gotten, not much left of your spiteful self that would scream and curse at him before. You nod slowly, not looking up. Looking at him from close-up might cause you to puke after all, and you’ve worked too hard to get to this point. Alex gives you a rough, scolding shake, and you instinctively grip onto his shirt. “Tell me.”

“Yes...” you mumble, hoping that will be enough to satisfy him, and Alex gives you another sigh before shrugging lightly and adjusting you in his arms. “That’s something we can work on,” he promises you for another time, and you keep your head low as he carries you outside.

It’s been way too long that you saw the morning dew on the grass, fog covering the fields in the distance, and the sun only starting to fully rise above you. It makes you look up in awe, unknowingly being observed by a curious pair of eyes from above. Being outside again almost makes the trouble worth it, and you are able to find happiness in this small victory.

But you have yet to grasp the consequences of your decision. Even if it looked great in the image you had in your mind, you aren’t aware of the state of the house inside, what was waiting for you behind the pretty facade of a farmer’s home. The demands he has of you that Alex had yet to reveal and how eager he was to train his adorable little darling. Make you just as dependant and obsessed with him as his animals were, while you’d share their place at the end of the bed for a long time.

And you didn’t even know about the collar yet.

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A/N: Oh god, I haven’t written anything in the present tense for a loooong time. I hope it was readable! Sorry in advance if I messed up occasionally, I tried to get everything sorted out properly... >_< Still, a very enjoyable write and I hope the read as well!

[tangent101]

An interesting Life is Strange writing concept

I just recently stumbled across an interesting concept for Life is Strange in which Alex Chen was adopted by the Caulfield family and went to Blackwell with Max... and it got me thinking.

First, I need to say this outright. I am using this fanfiction's idea as a launching point for brainstorming of concepts and ideas. My ideas are no better or worse than the fanfiction. This other story is fantastic on its own and does not need my input and this is not a criticism of the story. Instead, it's an examination of a basic concept: What happens if Alex Chen were to be adopted by the Caulfield clan.

The first thing to consider is this: Alex is a psychic. She is predominantly empathic and can get flashes of thoughts when emotions are intense enough and/or she focuses on what that person is thinking. So... this has caused a number of fostering situations to fall through.

Interestingly enough, there is a point when the Caulfield clan could have taken in Alex before this became an issue... and that's when Alex was 11 and first put into the foster care system. Foster parents are actually given a stipend to help pay for the financial expenses behind caring for a child, and in theory that could have been enough money to keep Ryan and Vanessa from moving out of Arcadia Bay.

But let's say that they actually adopted Alex (and thus potentially forfeited that financial boon). Would they adopt Alex and abandon Gabe to the system? Would we have two kids becoming Max's big brother and kid sister?

In this situation, Chloe would obviously know that Max has siblings now. And what's more, I cannot help but think that Alex, with her burgeoning psychic abilities, would push Max to either stay in contact or get back in contact with Chloe.

Okay, let's change things up. Alternative Reality #2 had the Chen family uproot themselves as Alex's father looked for employment. He ended up working at the docks in Seattle but losing his job when the incident happens that resulted in Social Services putting Alex and Gabe in the foster system. Alex languishes in a foster care system that is not good. Gabe ends up in Juvie. And when Alex was 14, she ends up fostered to the Caulfield family.

At this point, it's 2011. Max has been out of contact with Chloe for several years. She is pining though. And Alex, with psychic nerves rubbed raw, likely has come across several instances of this. Max, being the sort of person who hates causing a commotion, would not tell her parents about any weirdness and indeed if her parents were getting weirded out likely would come to Alex's defense. So after a small waiting period you end up having Alex adopted by the Caulfield clan... with emerging psychic powers but a family that is far more comforting and caring than the foster care system.

Alex knows how much Max misses Chloe. Yes, it's been a couple of years. But Alex herself has had friends in the foster care system that she has fallen out of touch with, others that ditched her, and she likely knows what it's like to be abandoned. Alex likely would push Max to get back in touch with Chloe early on.

I can't help but think that Max would succumb to Alex's good-intended urging on this. So Max contacts Chloe. She sends a text.

Let's say that Rachel intercepted the text. She blocks Max's number. Chloe doesn't need that drama in her life. (Bad enough that Joyce is constantly bringing up Max, and Chloe is having trouble letting her go. It's better this way. Sometimes you have to move on. Jealousy has nothing to do with this.)

Or maybe David confiscated Chloe's phone and blocked the number and deleted the text because Chloe doesn't need old friends when he's trying to break down this young soldier to rebuild into a productive member of society according to his military mindset (HA!) and Rachel's innocent in this.

Alex wouldn't just let this drop. Anyone who's played True Colors knows how stubborn our young lady is. And she's driven by psychic powers as well that are blossoming under a more loving home. Wouldn't Alex follow up with her own text? And Rachel or David likely wouldn't intercept every text or block her as well. Hell, she might go for broke and call Joyce. And Joyce sure as blazes would make sure that Chloe knew Max was contacting her. (And that Max has a sister now.)

So Chloe is now in touch with Max. The roadblocks are quite important because if Rachel blocked Max's number, then this is going to cause a bit of a blowup that weakens Chloe and Rachel's relationship, while if David were the culprit then Joyce is going to have words with him (as she loves Max and sees her as not only a second daughter but a stabilizing influence).

Of course, there is always possibility 3 - neither David nor Rachel tried to block Max's efforts to contact Chloe and that went off without a hitch but where's the fun in that? XD

Anyway, Alex would be urging Max to remain in touch with Chloe. She would also likely notice that Max is crushing hard on Chloe and may very well push Max down that path. And given that Rachel was flirting with other people... well, Max being back in Chloe's life could do one of two things - either draw Rachel closer into Chloe's circle out of jealousy, or give Rachel reason to push Chloe toward Max and do her own thing while remaining friends with Chloe.

I like Rachel. I can't help but think it would be #2, especially given what we know about Rachel from the original Life is Strange. She cared deeply for Chloe and didn't want to hurt her. So... yes, I can see Rachel helping encourage Chloe to let bygones be bygones and to pursue her own romantic leanings toward Max. We'd have shippers on either end pushing the two together (Alex pushing Max and Rachel pushing Chloe).

It might even be amusing and interesting to see Rachel and Chloe drive up to Seattle to meet Max and for Rachel in that situation to meet the mysterious Alex Chen who she's been texting and possibly flirting with on the phone. (Amberchen? Hmmm...)

One other thing that is likely to happen is that Max would be a stabilizing influence on Chloe's life. She is a pressure valve even as Rachel was more of an instigator. So with Max urging Chloe to focus more on school, we may very well see Chloe starting to apply herself more to her classes. And if Chloe doesn't get kicked out of high school then David has one less thing to rail against Chloe with.

Rachel and Chloe would graduate a year before Max would (and two years before Alex). With Max back in Chloe's life, and a new friendship growing between Alex and Rachel? Then we may very well see Rachel less desperate for an escape because now there is a plan. Go to college with Chloe up in Seattle. Sure, it's not California but there are other advantages to the region (including legal weed!) and having good friends there would be reason enough. She escapes Jeffershit's death trap by never getting close to him. Nor does she get close to Frank. Similarly, Max has no reason to go to Blackwell because Chloe is coming to Seattle!

And Alex? Alex gets a home life that is far more loving than what she went through in the original timeline. And she has good friends... which will be useful when on October 13, 2013 a truly nasty storm strikes Arcadia Bay, wiping out most of the town and killing hundreds of people including the student body of Blackwell Academy. Because fate is a fickle bitch and Chloe Price wasn't dying as a sacrifice in a bathroom in Blackwell Academy. But you know? While Chloe, Rachel, and Max grieve... Max never blames herself for something outside of her control, and the girls never went through the horrors of the original Life is Strange.

Well done, Alex! You saved the day once again! ^^ And amusingly enough, when Max, Chloe, and Rachel go with Alex to meet her brother Gabe, Max is on hand to witness Gabe's death, her powers emerge, and she saves Alex's brother... but that is a different story. ;)

[youryanderedaddy]

Lady Luck (pt. 1)

I was so hyped to write this lol. Heavily inspired by Kaiji <3

Tw: mafia mention, unrealistic potrayal of mafia, mentions of threats, implied obssessive behavior (will get more hardcore in the second part tho), mentions of gambling, kidnapping /not reader/

 You knew that you were a scum, a lowlife, a miserable loser without much hope in life - that’s exactly why you had no problem joining the deadliest underground paradise and following under the steps of the Lucciano family. They controlled everything - the casinos, the drugs, the guns, the whores, you name it - they provided it. And you had nothing - neither a past, nor a future. But everything changed when the oldest son Thomas decided to help you get out of the mud and step onto your legs - he gave you a home, a friend to return to, a shoulder to cry on when reality felt too painful and harsh, just too much to bear on your own. “Why would you do that for a stranger?” You had asked him once while tipsy, sitting by the hearth, a slight blush adorning your soft cheeks. “That’s easy.” The man had responded right away without giving it much thought. “You remind me of myself.”

 You spent long nights thinking about his words but never came to a conclusion - he was born into a powerful, wealty family, so it made no sense for him to have experienced rock bottom the way you had. And his small black eyes displayed such a variety of terryfing emotions - bloodlust, greed, sin and so much sadness. Why would a monster ever feel scared, you wondered. 

 Working for the Luccianos wasn’t especially hard or even dangerous - you ran small errands for them, took care of the younger kids, helped with insignificant deals, acted as a croupier when their staff was sick or missing or had to be taken care of, but one thing you were thankful for was how they never tried to force you into doing something you would never be able to forgive yourself for. Thomas was kind to you -  always so considerate, willing to listen, to understand how you felt even when the worlds you two lived in differed so greatly. He was supposed to be villain of the story, big and scary, demanding, taking whatever he wants without asking and never feeling an ounce of regret about it. And for a while, you were suspicous of the man’s every move - you were desperately waiting for the mobster to fuck up and show his true colours so you could let yourself hate him, despise him. And yet the sweet, sweet moment of revelation never came. You knew, of course, of the many evil deeds the criminal bestowed upon thousands of innocent people each and every day, but you never witnessed it with your own eyes and when the man was treating you like a part of his family, holding you close and giving you chance after chance to prove yourself, it was slowly getting impossible to view him as the bad guy. Perhaps you should have waited just a little longer.

 It happened during a warm, spring day. You didn’t expect it, you couldn’t. You had just finished your shift at midnight in the small shop you worked in, which belonged to Thomas’ mother, and were heading to the Lucciano mansion. It had been a particularly long and exhausting day, so you wanted nothing more than to feel the soft, silky, white sheets down your half-naked body while the quiet classical music took you to dream land and back. But upon opening the heavy wooden door, you quickly noticed something was different - there was no music, the big black TV in the middle of the hall was set to camera mode instead of the normal one, and it was awfully quiet. “They must have had to leave the country for a while.” You rationalised. “It has happened before after all.” You kept reassuring yourself while taking a tiny step towards the centre of the room where light was the strongest - it could uncover every hidden little detail.

 And then the TV was turned on. You shifted your gaze up, paranoia eating at you from inside out. Soon there was clear image on the massive screen, but what you saw left you speechless. There were hours of footage from your personal life - working, hanging out with friends, eating, bathing. What made the shivers down your spine run cold was a scene where a guy, your boyfriend, was kissing you, touching you, undressing you with his praying eyes. It was nothing unusual for a young woman to have a love life, but this broke the only rule Thomas had told you upon entering the house - you were forbidden from having close relationships with men, especially dangerous ones, and for the longest time, you had no issue living by that as long as you came back to the luxury and warmth the mobster provided for you. Until you met him - a charming, clever member of a local gang. You knew it was wrong and could cost you more than you were willing to sacrifice and yet you still gave in. It was your first time experiencing the highs and lows of love, so who could blame you when it was such a magical feeling, a mixture of adrenaline and opium. Alex made you feel like a real human being instead of someone just existing, leeching off the stronger, wealthier species.

 There was a shadow moving out from the corner, playing into your delusions. But soon enough you realised it was all a reality as none other than Thomas walked slowly towards you, clapping his hands dramatically, a sly smirk on his beautiful, scarred face. Did he...

 "Congratulations." The man started off, dark eyes set on you, slowly coming closer and closer like a big black hole, ready to swallow you whole. "You went and got yourself a little boy - toy." The criminal chuckled viciously under his breath, making you cringe at the crude nickname he used. The situation felt surreal and yet the fear and panic were already suffocating you, making you dizzy wish regret. "I wish you would have told me though... I never thought someone I hold so important would lie to me." The mobster kept rambling, waving his arms in the air theatrically, while holding a lit cigarette, but never moving it to his lips - it was just a prop, a way to create a thick smoke mist in your eyes. It was finally the hour of judgement.

 "What do you want?" You asked, faking confidence, desperate to take control of what was happening. It was a bizarre thing to see your dearest friend act in such a eerie, frightening way, almost treating you like one of his victims - nothing more than an indebted bastard or an unfortunate bystander, unlucky enough to catch a deal unfolding right behind the scenes. It hurt but you had forced this upon yourself and you had to fix it.

 "Nothing much, really." Thomas replied, finally inhaling the deadly smoke into his open mouth. He played with his collar for a while, as if you weren't standing there, scared for your life. "I just want to teach you a lesson in obedience, doll." The mafioso continued, circling you slowly, his heavy gaze never leaving your body. You felt awfully exposed even when all your clothes were present, covering every inch of your skin. With a swift snap of his fingers, the man summoned most of the gorillas that worked under him. Two of them were dragging your kicking, screaming boyfriend towards the centre of the room, but a quick punch in the guts managed to quiet him down. He looked terrified, his face bloody and injured, covered in dust and misery. But he was still alive and only that mattered to you.

 "I wanted to make this entertaining for all of us." The oldest Lucciano spoke out, his husky voice echoing trough the golden ceiling. He moved over to your lover and harshly pressed the cigarette butt against the exposed skin of his unprotected arm. The man cried out in pain, silently pleading you to help with his big, terrified eyes. And here you were, as helpess as he was - if not even more. "So I decided to initiate a little gamble of sorts, ya know?" Thomas winked at you, smiling with malice. You couldn't help, but recall all the times you two had played poker together, betting less than pocket change. You never understood why the man always got so excited despite winning such small sums, especially when his casinos already did well. But now you could see it clearly - he got off crushing his opponent, taking the victory under their noses. Money meant nothing. As long as he was able to ruin your mood, your life, the man was pleased.

 Soft white light lit up the furthest corners of the hall and you saw dozen square boxes, arranged in a circle. It looked harmless enough on its own, still they were stamped with Thomas’ symbol - a dove. You used to wonder why someone in the most dangerous depts of mafia would choose such an innocent, sweet signature pf representation and now the answer was right in front of you - that way it was easier to trick the enemy into thinking they were safe. And how wrong were they. 

 “As you can see, there are nine wooden boxes in total. They look exactly the same and on top of each one there is a hole.” Thomas stopped to point at them, the raw anticipation flooding his otherwise dull pupils. “Six of the boxes are empty. In the other three though, there are placed some of the most poisonous snakes in the world. One bite and you are dead.” The madman gave a loud, breathy laugh while your boyfriend squirmed uncomfortably in place, restrained by the strong arms, holding him down. “Both of you will take four turns putting your hand in the boxes. After every round the box would be closed off and you would be able to choose only from the remaining ones. ” The mobster grinned widely, looking at your horrified expression. You couldn’t believe that the man was willing to put your lives on the line simply because you had neglected one of his orders. “Now you may be wondering where the suspence is - after all you would probaby manage to hear the hissing from afar and avoid the place it comes from. Rest assured, my foolish little friends. Right now the snakes are heavily intoxicated and absolutely silent - which doesn’t mean, of course, that they won’t attack any soft flesh they see. If you die, that’s on you, but if you survive, you will be rewarded.” Thomas clapped his hands together and his man let go of your lover, resulting in his falling to the ground with a heavy bang. Thomas pursed his lips together.

 “Shall we get started?”

[thevindicativevordan]

My Take on a Superman Video Game

I've seen other people give their takes on how to approach this, and given Superman and video games are two major topics of interest for me, I thought I'd give my pitch.

So first off, I’m giving him a health bar. Yes I know some people will b**** and no I don’t care. I don’t care what people who get their Superman knowledge from YouTube or Instagram “fact” pages think about the character, and all the other attempts such as the city health bar in the Returns game didn’t satisfy me. So right off the bat he’s getting a health bar. Second: it’s time to start showing casuals areas of Superman lore they either don’t know about or aren’t very familiar with. The reason for that is people think they “know” Superman so we need to immediately show something they DON’T know about or HAVEN’T seen already to get them to not immediately dismiss Superman out of hand based on memes or whatever. Which leads into my third creative point. Third: I’m not setting the first game in Metropolis. The Arkham games didn’t immediately throw you into an open world Gotham, they built up to it. The Spider-Man PS4 game started off with an open world because they were able to build upon dozens of Spider-Man games that laid the ground work for them. The first Superman game in decades needs to avoid biting off more than it can chew, and throwing Superman into an open world feels like a bad idea. So where can it be? Well there are options. There’s Warworld. There’s Apokolips. But I think the best location is one that’s intrinsically tied to Superman and his Kryptonian background, and serves as a nice counterpart to Batman starting out in Arkham Asylum: The Phantom Zone

The Asylum was a great starting point for Batman for a couple reason: 1. It’s the iconic prison where Batman leaves his Rogues, 2. It’s gothic and horror esque vibe crafts the perfect atmosphere, and 3. it’s place as a center for examining the mind makes it great for exploring Batman’s mental state. For similar reason the PZ is the perfect place to start off Superman: 1. It likewise is an iconic prison for Superman Rogues 2. It’s science fiction and horror mixed together which crafts the perfect atmosphere for Superman to kick ass or be introspective, and 3. It lets Kal come face to face with his Kryptonian heritage in the nastiest way possible as he’s dumped into a place filled with prisoners his father helped exile as well as all the other monsters and criminals other races have dumped there. So he’s going to the Zone but how does he get there and what’s the story? It would be boring if he just walked in. Here’s the pitch: It’s Year 2 of Superman’s career. He’s already established himself as a hero in Metropolis and worldwide. The public knows he claims to mean them no harm and that he only seems to do good deeds, but they know very little about his origins and are divided as to his true intentions. The problem is Clark himself doesn’t really know his origins either beyond knowing he’s an alien from another planet. His only relics from his home planet are the rocket, a tablet written in a language he can’t read, and a curious device that doesn’t seem to have any use. As a show of goodwill, and because he hasn’t made any progress understanding them himself, Clark turns the tablet and the device over to STAR Labs for study. One day as he’s beating down some Intergang thugs, reality twists, and suddenly Clark finds himself in a place that is definitely not Metropolis. The “earth” is chalk white, the sky is a purple, green lightning flashes around as far as he can see, and where the sun should be there’s instead a black hole. Somehow Clark and the terrified Intergang thugs have ended up in the Phantom Zone with no idea of how they got there and how to get back.

The thugs accuse Clark of transporting them there and attack him, with Clark suddenly realizing his powers are fading in this place with no sunlight. Luckily a stranger arrives and aids Clark in dispatching the thugs. Clark thanks him for his aid and then asks who he is. The stranger pauses and tells Clark: “My name is Dru-Zod, a general of Krypton”. He raises a hand for Clark to shake. “I was a friend of your father, Kal-El”. Zod tells Kal about the place he’s in, and his history with it. He tells him that other humans have been brought here as well besides the Intergang thugs, including many of Clark’s foes. Zod informs Clark that the likely culprit for their arrival to the PZ is the very first prisoner Jor-El ever banished to the Phantom Zone: Xa-Du the Phantom King, who has spent so long imprisoned that he seems to have obtained a degree of control over the Zone that gives him strange powers. Kal is told that if he does not collect the scattered humans and escape the Zone soon, he and the humans will become trapped there, as anyone who spends too long in the Zone eventually becomes unable to leave without special equipment on the other side to bring them back, thanks to the way the Zone warps the inhabitants. Kal’s mission is clear: Collect the scattered humans, defeat and pacify his foes trapped there with him so they can be brought back as well, and defeat the Phantom King before he tears a hole between the Zone and the real world that could cause catastrophe for Earth. That’s the basic story pitch, next I’ll go into gameplay mechanics and what Rogues I’d use.

Clark starts the game having been de powered back to “Golden Age” power levels due to there being no sun in the PZ. Zod teaches him about Sunstones that grow naturally in the PZ, which will allow him to slowly re-empower himself. The Sunstones ward off the PZ’s influence and basically act as perk points for Clark to unlock and upgrade his powers. At the start he can’t fly, he can only run and leap. Zod acts as Kal’s mentor throughout the game, teaching him about Kryptonian history and how to read the language. He also tutors him in the dangers of the Phantom Zone as well as training him to hone his powers. Kal gets the feeling there’s more to Zod than he’s letting on though, and some of his comments raise Kal’s suspicions. The base of the game is the Fortress of Solitude.

It’s backstory is that when Jor-El first discovered the PZ, he built the FoS as a research outpost to study the place. It’s packed full of Kryptonian tech and it has the ability to shift back into the natural world. Zod couldn’t use it because it’s caretaker Kelex only responds to House El members. However it won’t shift back until it judges its user “sterilized” in order to avoid contaminating the natural world with the Zone’s influence. Because Kal was brought over so suddenly and without the proper tech, he has to use Sunstones to purge the Zone from his body before the Fortress will respond to his commands. This is a nice way of tying the gameplay and story together. Kal needs the stones to save the civilians and to go home, which helps explain why he might do side quests rather than stick with just the main questline. Civilians Superman has to rescue in the Zone: Lois Lane, Perry White, Jimmy Olsen, Dr. Veritas, Ron Troupe, Dr. John Henry Irons, Dr. Hamilton, Bibbo, Dr. Hank Henshaw and his family, Commissioner Henderson, Captain Maggie Sawyer, Detective Turpin, members of the Newskids Legion, Morgan Edge, and other OCs or nameless civilians. Kal also meets Krypto, who was transported into the Zone by Jor-El in order to watch over the Fortress as its guard, in order to keep it safe so that Kal might one day reclaim it. Rogues: Some of Superman’s Rogues have been teleported to the PZ as well, and unfortunately they have their own plans for escaping the Zone, even if it means they have to kill Superman to do it.

Metallo: John Corbyn is a cyborg soldier that served in the US Army under Sam Lane and was created as the government’s Anti-Superman deterrent. After a fight with Superman in his early career left him crippled, he was bonded to a nanosuit that equips him with various weaponry capable of killing Superman. He believes Superman transported everyone there as part of a first strike against humanity. Parasite: A Lexcorp lab experiment gone horribly wrong, Rudy Jones is a science fiction vampire who needs to kill to sustain himself. He absorbs the memories and skills of whoever he kills, and he is able to transform his body into various weapons (think Alex Mercer from [PROTOTYPE] to know what I mean). He’s hunting the civilians to feed on and has his eye on Superman as well. Livewire: Leslie was a vlogger with a far looser code of ethics than Clark. Her “reporting” eventually angered the wrong people who attempted to have her assassinated. Instead Leslie ended up with powers over electromagnetism, and a grudge against Morgan Edge who she believes was behind the Intergang hit on her. Edge is her target but she doesn’t mind stepping over Superman’s corpse if she has to. The Terran (Terra-Man): Krypton wasn’t the only planet to discover the Phantom Zone. One alien race banished the immortal hunter known as the Terran, whose human name was Tobias before he was abducted by aliens who were interested in the potential of the human meta gene and wanted to experiment on him. Their experiment was a success and Tobias broke free, using their own weaponry to hunt them down and carve a bloody path across the stars. Eventually he was transported to the PZ and is now desperate to escape. Mr. Mxy: Who is this creature? Neither a human nor seemingly an alien prisoner of the PZ, Mxy engages Clark in a series of puzzles that reveal secrets about the PZ... and foretell of threats to come. Red Cloud: An enforcer for the Invisible Mafia, her only loyalty is to her boss Leone. Her identity is a secret from Clark for now and she intends for it to remain that way. Silver Banshee: Not every human teleported to the PZ was unchanged. Some reacted much more strongly to the Zone’s influence. One former human has now been twisted into the sinister Silver Banshee, driven insane by the whispers in the Zone and the alterations to her body. She poses a formidable threat to Clark in her current state. Xa-Du: The Phantom King and first prisoner of the Phantom Zone sent from Krypton. Zod claims he was insane even before he was sent here but his incarceration has done nothing to improve his health if so. Gleefully plotting his return to the real world, Xa’s only desire is to raise an army of super zombies with himself as their Necrogod ruler. His time in the Zone has given him control over the degraded Phantoms, and he can channel the energies permeating the Zone into a variety of attacks (basically he’s a space necromancer). His aim is to corrupt Kal-El and the Fortress and use both to travel to Earth and he will never stop hunting Kal. Non boss mooks for Clark to fight: Phantoms - Some of the inhabitants of the Zone have degenerated into the ghostly Phantoms, their only desire to spread their suffering to others. They have been so warped by the Zone they’ve become a part of it and are thus incapable of permanently dying. Shades - Much more powerful Phantoms, Shades retain some memory of their former lives and posses some of their former skills. They serve as the elite of Xa-DU’s forces. Shadowbreed - Native creatures of the PZ, these beings feed on the light of the SunStones and thus see Clark as a meal as well. They possess various animals of the PZ to attack and feed on him. Eradicators - Once these machines served House El in their study of this place acting as defenders. But time has eroded their programming and they now seek to destroy even the Last Son of their old House.

That's the basic of my pitch, I think it's a fairly manageable one that addresses a lot of the arguments you get from people about why a game "wouldn't work" or whatever.

[jamespotterthefirst]

Fake Husband: Part II

The Reckoning

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,600 Warning: Some adult language Premise: Ethan pretends to be her husband again to spite her insistent ex. Part 2 of  Fake Husband Author’s Note: Seriously guys, the fake dating trope owns me

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The frivolous, over-embellished ballroom was alive with laughter, conversation, and music. He watched with disgust as Boston's elite congregated in clusters, clad in expensive formal wear, champagne flutes in hand. Their ambitious smiles were just as false as their interest in the charities rallying for funds that night. It made him sick.

Ethan took a long gulp of his scotch. Why had he let Naveen bully him into attending the scene of his worst nightmare?

Instinctively, his eyes swiveled to meet hers from across the ballroom. Eyes sparkling even from a distance, she gave him a radiant and characteristically coy smile.

That was why.

Ethan forced his eyes away when he realized he was staring, his throat suddenly dry.

How could he not stare? The deadly combination of a shimmering black dress, dark hair that rippled in waves past her bare shoulders, and a delicate, crimson mouth made her look like a siren who could bring any man to his knees. By the interested glances she was attracting, many present would be willing to let her, Ethan included.

Privately, he made it his purpose to go twenty minutes without seeking her out.

He only managed ten.

By the time his eyes scanned the crowded ballroom again, desperate in their search, she was nowhere to be found.

It was no surprise he found her ten minutes later through the massive arched doors leading to a balcony. What was surprising, however, was that she was not alone. From where he stood, he could see the figure of a man that struck a sense of familiarity.  

“I can't stop thinking about you, Lilac,” he was saying. “I don’t think I ever stopped thinking about you.”

With a flash of shock, he recognized him as Lilac’s ex boyfriend, the one who had been wearing a ridiculous turquoise suit on their last meeting. Briefly, Ethan marveled at how his fashion choices remained as deplorable as before. He was wearing a wine colored tuxedo made of velvet.

What a prick.

Lilac was unmoved, her gaze cold as she watched him with disinterest.

It did not deter him. “Do you think about me?”

Ethan’s jaw tensed, clenched fists at his sides longing to connect with his pathetic face.

Lilac, on the other hand, did a better job at remaining composed. Her beautiful, crimson lips remained set in an inscrutable line. “Yes, I think about you sometimes, Alex,” she allowed, voice low.  

Ethan’s heart plummeted.

Then, with a vehemence that could strike a man down, she continued, “I think about how much time I wasted feeling something you did was somehow my fault.”

Velvet's shoulders tensed, the words no doubt a blow.

“All of that was a mistake,” he countered in what he, no doubt, considered a reasonable tone. “I never should've–”

“Slept with my best friend?”

“I regret that every day.”

“Which part? Sleeping with her or getting caught and facing consequences for once in your privileged life?”

Goddamn, Rookie.

She pulled no punches. A swell of pride burst in Ethan’s chest.

“In a way, you did me a favor,” Lilac went on mercilessly. “I never would've been free to fall in love with Ethan if you hadn't shown what a bastard you are.”

Love. Ethan clung to the word, enjoying the sound of it when paired with his name, when uttered so fiercely by her lovely lips. It almost made him forget it was part of the act they fabricated to spite him.

The bastard in question watched her with quiet fury, all pretense of politeness or faux charm vanished. “Who are you kidding, Lilac?” he proclaimed with a humorless laugh. “This husband of yours? You can't honestly believe that's love instead of some schoolgirl celebrity crush–”

He never finished his sentence because her hand flew up to slap him, the crack of her hand against his cheek so loud, Ethan was surprised the ballroom missed it.

“Don't seek me out again,” she said coldly.

She moved to sidestep him, but he was quicker, blocking her path with his body.

“Let me go,” she warned, her eyes boring into him.

She attempted her escape again, and his hands moved to stop her. “Lilac–”

“That's my wife you’re about to put your hands on,” Ethan said, his voice dangerously low as he stepped from the shadows, ears buzzing with rage. “And if you wish to keep them attached to your worthless body, you'll rethink that choice.”

They both glanced up at him, Lilac with relief and her ex with irritation. The latter seemed to consider challenging the threat, but his eyes coolly assessed Ethan’s imposing height, broad shoulders, and balled fists.

Hands dropping to his sides, he fixed Ethan with a harsh glare instead. “We’re just talking. No need to get defensive, pal.”

At the word pal, Ethan moved purposefully toward him, fist ready to deck him. Lilac, however, quickly impeded his path, a gentle hand on Ethan's chest.

“He's not worth it,” she told him in a soft whisper. When Ethan relaxed slightly under her touch, she fixed a glare at her ex. “You should go.”

Velvet looked like he wanted to say something else but didn't dare to in front of the man he believed was her husband. After a moment of hesitation, furious glare locked on Ethan, he wordlessly stormed off, disappearing into the crowd of the ballroom.

Once alone, Ethan glanced down at her, taking in her pale face and at once feeling his expression soften. “Are you okay?”

Lilac nodded quietly. “I'm okay,” she assured him.

“How the fuck was he here?”

She watched him with a troubled expression. “I came out to get some fresh air,” she explained quickly. “He followed me. I didn't even know he was at this thing. Apparently, his law firm is a sponsor and–”

The words blurred together in her rush to explain. When she broke off to catch a breath, Ethan shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, Lilac,” he assured her gently. “This wasn’t your fault. You don't have to explain anything to me.”

Lilac looked uncertain.

“Seriously, Lilac, fuck that guy. Don't let him ruin your evening,” he said, impassioned.

A tentative smile followed by a deep sigh. “This evening wasn't that great to begin with,” she confessed, voice laced with hints of her usual carefree tone. “Rich people are so insufferable and spectacularly boring.”

Ethan allowed himself to look impressed, his face relaxing into a laugh. “Couldn't have said it better myself.”

There was a small silence in which neither moved away from the other. A soft breeze rustled her hair, making her shiver slightly. Without a word, he removed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her bare shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured, pulling it closer around herself. The gesture, small and seemingly insignificant, sent a wave of warmth through his chest that neither science nor logic could explain.

They were standing mere inches apart, the sounds of the ballroom distant and muted. All Ethan could hear was the thunderous beat of his heartbeat. He wondered if she could hear it too.

Unable to stop himself, his hand moved to caress her cheek, calloused thumb moving delicately over the ridge of her cheekbone. Briefly, Lilac closed her eyes, her own hand resting atop his.

They moved closer to each other still, so close that Ethan could see the cluster of freckles that dusted her nose. When she opened her eyes, her gaze descended to his lips.

It was all it took to shatter the fragile fragments of his resolve.

“Kiss me,” he instructed in a feather-light whisper.

Lilac obeyed, closing the distance and pressing her soft lips to his in a small, fleeting kiss. Ethan’s hand moved to her waist, but abruptly, she broke apart, eyes moving up to meet his. “Is he still watching?” she asked, breathless. Biting her red lip, she added, “You don't have to keep pretending if you don’t–”

“I don't give a damn about him,” Ethan hissed, thoroughly intoxicated by even the briefest of her kisses. “I'm through pretending.”

Untamed yearning pulsing through him, he roughly pulled her to him, their lips reuniting hungrily. In seconds, Lilac’s maddening mouth moved fluidly against Ethan’s, opening compliantly at his silent command. Her hands trailed down the front of his jacket, their warmth palpable even through the fabric, threatening to consume him whole.

Weeks of resisting her proved futile then. His body remembered hers dutifully, his hands gripping her hips to bring her closer still. This was foolishly unnecessary for Lilac urgently arched against him, sending his body into a frenzy.

“Ethan,” she panted, the delicious sound lost against his lips.

The scent of her flowery perfume mixed with the cologne of his jacket and Ethan found it so enticing that he forgot where they stood. Invigorated, his tongue pushed against hers, the small moan this provoked vibrating against his mouth. She retaliated with as much keenness, tilting her head to one side to deepen their kiss.

Ethan groaned.

Neither had the will to separate, their shared breath ragged.

At last, it simmered down to a string of small kisses. Every part of his body screamed at him to resume, his pulse a thundering storm. “Want to leave?” he asked her, pressing a hot kiss to her jaw.

“Desperately,” she sighed, the sound so provocative that it robbed him of his control.

Ethan kissed her again, fiercely, his need for her unquenchable. A small gasp erupted from her mouth as his teeth grazed her bottom lip, the tip of his tongue tracing a soothing line immediately after.

“Unfair,” she said in a heady whisper.

He laughed against her neck. “Have you seen yourself, Rookie?”

Lilac’s eyes fell to his lips again. She grinned up at him, ethereal in the moonlight.

“My lipstick’s all over your mouth,” she said, wrinkling her nose slightly. So gently it was utterly captivating, she moved her thumb over his lips. “Looks better on me,” she taunted.

Ethan, completely entranced, smiled. “Undoubtedly.”

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Prompt(s): sent by @caseyvalentineramsey​

2. A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss. 3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. 9. A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other’s breaths. 15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.

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Author’s note: THANK YOU for reading!

Also, I just realized this is too similar to Kelsey’s new fic. It was unintentional but you guys should know we’re like twins so it’s not surprise.

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Tags:  @openheart12​ | @ethandaddyramsey​ | @noboundariesplease​ | @silverlitskies​ | @the-soot-sprite | @infinitiestones | @emotionalswift2 | @flyawayboo |  @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum ​| @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn​ | @choicesyouplayandmore​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @trappedinfandoms​ |  @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman​ | @caseyvalentineramsey​ | @axwalker​ | @parkerattano​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1​ | @binny1985​ | @sanchita012​ | @lion-ess24 | @drethanramslay​ | @longneckramsey | @choices-lurker | @mvalentine | @axwalker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey |

(I forgot people, I know it. Please remind me because I’m a messy bitch who can’t keep track of her life).

[tma-more-like-suffering]

How to Successfully Attempt Murder

starring, Elias Bouchard as the murder victim.

A/N: So even though this technically isn’t a reader insert, its still in second person because- uh- because I’m currently stuck writing in second person? Like, okay, I’m having fun, alright? Lemme be.

But hey. For everyone who has repressed feelings of anger towards one Jonah Magnus, this one’s for you.

-

"Hey Mel- oh. Are you... going somewhere?"

Melanie startles, almost dropping the cup of coffee she has clutched in one hand. You stop just shy of the kitchenette doorway, feeling awkward for have accidentally snuck up on her.

"Jesus- I didn't hear you coming at all."

"Yeah... sorry. What're you doing?"

"I'm-" her expression goes through a series of stages, each somehow more interpretive than the last, "I- I went out to get coffee, that's all. And I thought I'd bring some for Elias..."

You squint at her, suspicious, "Elias?"

You don't know how, but Melanie's expression remains completely smooth beside the slight twitch of her eye, "Yes."

"Riiiight." You know that she can probably tell you don’t believe her. Still, you gesture at the cup, "You're going up to deliver that to him, then?"

Melanie glances down at the beverage, "Ah- yeah." She pauses, seemingly thoughtful, before her eyes settle on you again, "D'you wanna come up with me?"

Frankly, Melanie is acting very suspiciously right now. You know for a fact that this isn't just her 'having' gotten Elias a coffee while she was out. But you don't quite know what she's actually up to, and you have a feeling that something is about to happen.

"Alright, I'll come with."

-

You're standing beside the door to Elias's office, falling just outside his line of sight. Melanie told you to wait out here as she delivered her 'coffee' but left the door ajar just so that the conversation inside can be easily overheard.

"-I assume you don't believe me, then? That murdering me would also kill you?"

You can only imagine what kind of look must be on Melanie's face, right about now, "I-I-I don't know what you're..."

Despite the topic of conversation, Elias sounds unnervingly calm. You're not even the one who’s tried to kill him and yet you still feel a twinge of annoyance, "Coffee is not as good for disguising tastes as you might think. And it's even worse at disguising texture. Dissolved pills always leave such a- hm- chalky residue."

Melanie bristles, "Look, Elias, I never-"

"I assume this is your first time attempting to poison someone." You silently shake your head. Poor Melanie, Elias doesn't even sound fazed, talking about an attempt on his life like he's just scolding her for coming into work late, "Do you actually know how many painkillers it takes to kill someone, or were you just hoping I'd take enough to get sick, and you could finish the job... manually?"

Melanie takes a deep breath, but even from here you can hear the fine tremor underneath it, "Why...? Why bother asking then? Why bother if you know everything?"

Elias chuckles, unperturbed, "I don't know everything, Melanie. Do you know how exhausting that would be?

"I'll tell you one thing I don't know," he continues, "and that's how to convince you that I'm trying to help. Honestly, you're one of the lucky ones. But not if we're all dead thanks to an... overzealous-" you wince, "-attempt at independence."

Melanie sounds like she's gearing up for a fight, like a toy with its key turned too many times, "I don't need you to-"

Elias interrupts, speaking with an infuriating condescendence, like he's just turning down Melanie's request for a promotion the third time this month, "Let's have no more clumsy assassination attempts, alright? And we'll say no more about it. Consider this your first warning." His voice swoops lower, quieter, dangerous, "Next time I shall have to escalate matters, and that won't be a pleasant process for anybody."

A pause for dramatics. "Understood?"

Melanie grits out her own assent, "Yes."

Melanie seems now to be a problem neatly taken care of and filed away, never to be considered again except maybe for his own occasional amusement. There's an audible smile in Elias's voice, "Good."

Next thing you know, Melanie storms out of the office and straight past you, looking too angry to have remembered that she left you standing there. You blankly watch her go, mind spinning in lazy circles while considering the conversation you overheard.

"Will you close the door before you leave, Alex?"

You don't bother to stop long enough in his office for a chat of your own.

-

It’s curious, really.

He said, 'I don't know everything. Do you know how exhausting that would be?'

He's some form of omniscient, that's for sure. Maybe like a maid working in a Victorian household, always on top of the gossip. Whether that be creating the gossip himself, or simply being the agent who spreads it, that depended on the time of day.

But he can't know everything, all the time. Because that would be too much.

Which means there are loopholes.

"Hey Rosie."

Little nosy Rosie looks up, smiling politely as you stop by to say hello. It's not a very comfortable smile, because anyone who's anyone knows to stay well away from the Archives and their staff. Not Rosie though, little Rosie has quite the fine palette for juicy bits of gossip, reason why she bothers talking to the lot of you, "Hello Alex. Everything well in the Archives?"

You wave your hand dismissively, "We're getting along, I suppose. Lot of excitement with all that murder business, you know how it is."

There's that gleam in her eyes now, that 'oh, what's this?' gleam of curiosity, "Not quite, no. Listen, did I hear it straight that Jon's back? Even after being accused of murder?”

You shift, getting yourself comfortable leaning against Rosie's desk, "Well, they dropped the charges, right? Turns out they had it all wrong, Jon wasn't the one who took a pipe to some old man's head. I mean, look at him? D'you think he'd do it?"

Rosie squirms under your gaze, looking distinctly guilty, "I suppose not. He's a bit of an arse sometimes but- maybe not murder."

"Oh, it's all right Rosie, if my body ever turns up dead you know where to look." You wink. Her lips quirk up in a smile. It's just a spot of joking you two are doing here, really. You turn your head then, just slightly, pretending to look around a bit when you spy a tea kettle boiling away in the corner. "Having a cuppa?"

"What?" She follows your gaze and startles, "Oh! No, no, that's for Mr. Bouchard. He takes his tea this time of day."

You make a low noise in the back of your throat, casually interested but not obviously, "That so. You deliver his tea all times of the day, then?"

Rosie gives you a bemused look, as if she suspects you're trying to turn your nose up on the fact that part of her job is to bring tea to her boss. "It's only twice a day. He's never broken from schedule, doesn't bother me for it otherwise."

You hum an empty agreement, "Seems like the kind of man to keep on schedule."

"I should get to that actually," She pushes away from her desk and starts to her feet, "The water's probably done."

"Yeah, alright." You push off of her desk, giving her nod as you wander over to the door of her office, "Nice chatting with you Rosie. You should come down to visit the Archives sometime."

The last thing you see is her indulgent smile, the kind you give someone when you're only putting up with them until they're gone. In this case specifically, it's a -I don’t want to get caught up in whatever goes down there in the Archives, no thank you- kind of smile.

Oh well. You got what you came for anyways.

It's rather easy after that.

A month of seeing neither hide nor hair of him, Jon comes back. He looks remarkably harried, and you don't think you'd have even noticed him coming into work had you not been in the reception area during that time. As such, you watch him rush straight past you and for the stairs, and you can make a guess for where he's headed with a single-minded focus like that. It seems like Elias has a lot to do with the nonsense that occurs down in the Archives, and people can't be happier having someone to blame.

You pop down in the Archives and tell Martin that Jon's back. He sighs in relief. Even before becoming scarce at his own workplace, it was always Martin that Jon kept the most contacts with, only to completely drop off the grid these last few weeks. Somewhere in the midst of your conversation Melanie comes marching in, a crazed look in her eye, and you know what she's planning too.

I mean, what better time than when the boss-bossman is distracted, eh?

An uncomfortable few seconds of watching Melanie stomp about before she leaves, the door closing behind her with a bang. Martin sighs tiredly and you know that he wishes she would just stop with all of this. These days, he’s more and more like a tired father of two toddler who has accepted his horrible lot in life, and yet still his children continue to insist on making it worse.

You give him a comforting little pat on the back. As far as you’re concerned, it's their loss if they insist on putting their heads in the lion's mouth.

Heading upstairs, you find Rosie's office empty. It must be if she’s settling the little dispute going on up in research. The kettle is however turned on, because Mr. Bouchard has always been a man of schedule.

It's easy, to slip in something into the water.

-

Elias can't know everything, all the time.

He knows he needs to keep an eye on his Archivist's development. The brunt of his gaze has always rested on Jon and it’s obvious that none of you Assistants can ever hope to stand in the same regard, not really.

Elias keeps an eye on Melanie. Melanie is unstable. She doesn't like her actions being controlled; she doesn't like being trapped here in this place. Never mind that she agreed to join the Institute on her own violation, it's her free will that matters to her now, or at least the illusion of it. Melanie is the kind of person who isn't afraid to fight for what she wants.

Elias keeps an eye on Tim too, though he pretends he doesn’t. It just makes sense. Tim is almost like Melanie, but he's been beaten down too much too soon, and won't take it out on Elias. His target is instead Jon, who seems to be at the center of most of his problems and is a much easiertarget. As long as that continues to be true, Tim is content on simply being indirectly snide towards Elias.

Elias doesn't really keep an eye on Martin. Oh, he knows that Martin is just as angry with him as any of others, but Martin has never been the kind of person to do anything about it.

Elias doesn't really keep an eye on you. You know what people think of you. That you're kind of an airhead. Always lost in your head, can't be bothered with the world outside it half the time. You're the kind of person that likes keeping their head down and quietly working away at your desk, and that hasn't much changed since... well, everything.

Nah. The murder thing isn't even on the top of your list. You'd just like some peace and quiet down here, for once. And, well, Elias seems to be the root of everyone's problems, including yours...

Still, there's no point in doing anything without at least enjoying the results. You researched extensively on what kind of poison to buy, taking into mind Elias’ oh-so-kind lecture to Melanie about picking your poison. It wouldn’t have done for him to taste something off about his tea the moment he took the first sip.

So, after exactly the time it would take for his tea to kick into effect, if you compensate for the time he would take to drink enough of it, you check in on Elias.

The first thing you see is the man collapsed onto his desk, eyes wide open and mouth frothing. The second you see is Jon, staring at the now dead body in front of him with surprise.

"Oh. It worked."

Jon's eyes snap toward you, "Wh- Alex? Did you do this?!"

You rub at your ears at the pitch of Jon's voice, an octave or two higher with hysteria, "I didn't know it'd work, you know?"

"You killed him!"

You shrug, slipping inside the room. "Sure." You can't be bothered to close the door behind you as cross over to the desk. Jon scampers out of his own seat, edging warily to the other side of the room. He can do whatever he wants as long as he doesn't call the cops immediately.

You check for a pulse on the body and find it missing.

From the furthest corner of the room, Jon stutters, "Y-you're insane."

You can't be bothered with an answer.

Fascinatingly enough though, Elias's eyes are still moving. They rove around wildly in his sockets, almost like they're the only way he can convey his surprise at being got. It's still unnatural though, and you have the strangest surety that it's an important detail.

Jon by this point has left the office, and you should really clean up here before someone comes in. Still, it almost feels like things aren't finished here. You have the strangest sense when it’s obvious that a story hasn't reached its conclusion.

You cast about the room and stop at the pen stand, holding fancy fountain pens that look like they cost more than your entire salary. You grab onto one, sliding the cap off by neatly jamming your thumb nail into the line where the cap meets the body of the pen, and look down contemplatively at the eyes that have stopped pinballing wildly, fixed on you. They almost look scared.

Well. This is going to get messy. At least you know that Melanie will be willing to help you clean up the body.

Tip of the pen poised; you get to work.

[triviareads]

Peccavi (In which the Bridgertons Talk About India)

1846

It had long since gotten dark by the time the family slowly traipsed into the drawing room at Bridgerton House. Dinner had ran overlong, perhaps due to the gaiety of the younger set, and the unwillingness of the older set to quash it, even as Aunt Sophie had quietly told them her and Benedict received a letter from Alexander, their son, who was now serving under Sir Hugh Gough somewhere in the northern regions of the Indian subcontinent. The pallor in Sophie’s expression and the dark shadows marring the skin under her eyes indicated nothing good, although none of the family had pressed further with all the children about.

But now, the younger, unmarried cousins had been chivvied off to bed, and Charlotte, along with the remaining family, eyed Sophie and Benedict with some trepidation.

“We didn’t want to say anything more in front of the children,” Aunt Sophie said at last, “but we received a letter from Alex, dated some months ago. He said, then, that they were preparing for war.”

Charlotte’s gaze flickered questioningly towards her husband Lord Clairmont, who looked unsurprised. But Charlotte could not help but shiver, faced with the sheer lack of knowledge her aunt, uncle, all of them, were in possession of, even as Alex was in danger, hurt, possibly dead an ocean away.

Charlotte’s mother spoke first.

“I’m sure he’ll be alright, Sophie. He is such a brave boy,” Kate said in soothing tones to her distraught sister-in-law. “He was always that way- brave, honorable, sensible- the first one in the family to enlist.”

“Besides,” Benedict added, in a seeming attempt to not only comfort his wife, but himself, “Alex is a commissioned officer. He certainly won’t be in the first line of defense. The native troops are there for that.”

“I know,” Sophie whispered. “But I cannot help but wonder- cannot help but think what could have changed since then-” she broke off, her breath hitching.

“Why is this happening?” Aunt Daphne asked quietly. “Why now?”

“I don’t know- well-” Sophie sniffed and unfolded the letter once more, “-He did mention some disagreement- infighting within the Punjab state, I think, but I could hardly make sense of it.”

“Their military is disordered, corrupt, according to Alex,” Benedict stated grimly. “They are a danger to all of them.”

“And so,” Uncle Michael sighed heavily, “It is up to our lot, as usual, to step in and keep the peace.” Michael had briefly been a colonial administrator under the Marquess of Hastings, during his tenure as Governor-General, in Madras.

“And the Company has its own interests too, Uncle,” Edmund added after a beat. “Is that not why they annexed the… Sindh Province, I think? Or what the war with the Chinese was about- the continued trade of opium?”

“Ghastly habit,” Aunt Lucy murmured.

“Free trade must prevail, my love,” Uncle Gregory, who had done rather well for himself by way of such investments, reminded his wife. “We are still Whigs.”

(Charlotte supposed free trade went hand-in-hand with the enormous profits the government was reaping off of this continued trade).

“There is… a greater purpose to all this,” Lord Geoffrey Findlay-Watt, cousin Caroline’s husband, said suddenly. He was generally a quiet man, jovial and happy to cede his share of attention onto others. This prompted everyone to look at him with rapt attention. What Geoffrey did for the Foreign Office was still a bit unclear, although they never really bothered to inquire further. For all all intents and purposes, Lord Geoffrey was merely a third son of a marquess who had become a part of the government bureaucracy.

“There has long been sentiment among certain elements within the government that Russia seeks to steal away our colonies in the east, especially India. They do this by invading much of Central Asia, slowly expanding their sphere of influence, cutting off our trade routes, port access, and such. The British government has a vested interest in preventing our crown jewel from falling into their hands.”

"Thus our efforts in Afghanistan and Sindh,” Lord Clairmont murmured.

Lord Geoffrey finished with, “A Russia-controlled India, indeed, a Russia-controlled Asia, would be nothing short of disastrous for the empire.”

“And so we make war instead,” Charlotte concluded from this little speech.

“We make war to make peace,” David corrected with the partisan fervency he had acquired after four years in the Commons as an MP of East Sussex.

Charlotte raised a brow at this statement. “You’ve been listening far too much to Palmerston,” she told David.

Charlotte's father turned to her with an odd look on his face. “And how exactly would you know of Palmerston’s rhetoric?” Anthony asked.

“She’s been the audience of many of his speeches, sir,” her husband spoke up for her, glancing at her and adding with the air of an inside-joke, “both directly and otherwise.”

Ah yes, one of Palmerston’s favorite methods of opinion-collecting: Whisper some policy or idea in the formidable Lady Palmerston’s ear, and she would proceed to casually mention it in during a party and gauge all the reactions before returning to her husband with this valuable intelligence.

“Of course,” Simon mused, “Pam was always been inclined to take the… active approach.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Aggressive, you mean. Although if you asked him, he would admit only to being a loyal servant of the Queen and Country.”

Palmerston, Charlotte had always thought, was many things, but his only loyalty was to himself.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Simon said, “particularly when the Tories seem to shy away from any sort of conflict.”

It was Benedict who scoffed and said, “Whatever peace Peel and Aberdeen may profess to want, that does not discount the fact that we are at war, however far away it may be.”

“And now, soldiers like Alex will have to suffer for it, oceans away from their home,” Sophie concluded bitterly.

Charlotte’s brows furrowed. She understood the worry a mother felt for her son, but they had all known he was a soldier, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they known that war was perpetually on the horizon for a man in his profession?

(What was the old line from Horace as he spoke of war- ah, dulce et decorum est … she winced, suddenly recalling the second half of the stanza).

Then again, despite bearing two children herself, Charlotte often wondered why she did not possess the maternal instinct all her aunts naturally seemed to have in spades.

“Things could very well change, Aunt,” Oliver Crane was saying in soothing tones. “The conflict in these princely states could be resolved as quickly as they started. I have seen it with my own eyes. Many of them are merely quarreling over successions and such, and can be speedily appeased.”

Charlotte exchanged looks with her husband. If Lord Geoffrey’s work at the Foreign Office was generally a bit of a question-mark to the family, most of them had absolutely no idea what it was Oliver did. Charlotte knew a bit more than most of them, thanks to her husband. Brilliant, academic prize-winning Oliver had been introduced to the likes of Lord Geoffrey and Lord Palmerston before he had even graduated from Cambridge, and he had gone off to the East under mysterious circumstances, neither as a tourist nor as a soldier. (And Charlotte had her suspicions that his line of work was not precisely diplomatic in nature).

“Oh yes, I forgot you spent some time there, Oliver,” Sophie said. “Where is it that you were again? Anywhere near-” Sophie consulted the letter she was gripping onto, “-this Punjab?”

“Here and there,” Oliver replied vaguely. “I spent some time in Shimla near the end of my tour- I believe that is somewhat close.”

“Shimla?” Uncle Michael said suddenly, looking up from his whisky.

“Do you know of the place, Uncle?” Oliver asked.

A grin split across Michael’s handsome face. “I was there back in ‘22! This was, of course, when hardly any of our lot ventured there- just a group of civil servants like myself, or chaps looking for adventure. Now I hear it has become rather like Brighton.”

“I can attest to that,” Oliver said dryly. “The governor-general, all his attaches, and soldiers regularly summer there now, and of course, where the gentlemen go, the ladies follow. They have quite the merry time, from what I’ve seen.”

“Like a marriage mart in the tropics?” Kate asked smilingly, seemingly determined to bring some levity into their serious drawing room conversation and cheer up her sister-in-law.

“Yes, they now hold balls, concerts, picnics and all manner of diversions up there.”

Even Sophie could not could not hide her fascination with this notion of a little English city tucked away in the Himalayas.

“I remember when Shimla was not much more than the few odd cottages in the jungle, and villages around it,” Michael reminisced, closing his eyes as an almost-tranquil smile graced his lips. “There are those who liken it to England, because of the weather and such, but for me, there was nothing like it- the coolness of the hills even when the land around it would get blazing hot, the fiery sunsets and the long-moon nights, how you could stumble across some ledge high in the hills, and when you looked out, it felt as though you could see all the world before you.”

“It sounds beautiful,” Kate murmured, entranced- the entire room seemed to be. Only Aunt Francesca smiled indulgently up at her husband, as though he had recalled these tales a thousand times.

"And the people!” Michael went on. “Why, I have never met a more obliging race of people. Every morning, they would trudge up from the villages in the foothills, and perform their daily tasks. I remember one could not even take a carriage around the hills, so narrow were the paths, and instead, the ladies would sit in a jampan, a sort of sedan-chair, and four Native men would carry them ‘round. I have yet to meet more hard-working people than them.”

Sophie spoke after this little speech, sounding pained, “I find it curious how you could praise the same people who are currently waging war against us, against people like your nephew.” She looked at her brother-in-law, her moss-green eyes steely.

Before Michael could respond, Kate said quietly, “Come, Sophie, even you know that civilians and soldiers are not one and the same, even if they hail from the same lands.”

“Besides,” David said with confidence to his aunt, “They will not remain the enemy for long, soldier, civilian, or otherwise.”

“What will they be, then?” Charlotte could not help but ask her cousin. She looked around at all of them- Oliver, Geoffrey, Michael, David, her husband- all of them, caught up in the machinations of the Empire, and wondered what knowledge of the future they held.

Something glittered within David’s gaze when he replied. “One among ours.”

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Charles Schulz vs Andrew Dobson: What a Blockhead!

There are certain things about Dobson’s behavior and particularly his approach at being a nerd and presenting himself as someone who enjoys the art of storytelling that I have issues with. Issues I want to tackle on in more detail within later entries quite a bit.

One such tendency is, that he mocks directly or indirectly the work and accomplishments of others.

See, if Dobson doesn’t like you as a content creator because he does not like something you work on, he will try to show it. He will make stupid assumptions of you (like how he accused Kojima of being a sexist creep because of Quiet and how he deals with “male gaze” in MGS compared to Death Stranding), half heartedly mock you (look at anything he makes about Ethan Van Sciver) or he will call a piece of work boring and dull based on a minor element instead of overarching problems (calling Batman the character a white supremacist based on the dumb work of only one author).

By doing that he also tries indirectly to insinuate that he is better in some manner, though most of the time it really just shows his own ego and that his pet peeves are rather petty compared to the overall quality of the work he criticizes as well as its flaws.

One such sight of ego boosting while mocking the work of his better is in my opinion to be found in this comic he uploaded sometimes around 2016/17 randomly online.

This comic in my opinion is both laughable and insulting. Why? I will explain soon.

First however I want to clarify that I get that this comic is supposed to be a joke mostly. The old “What others expect, what I expect” thing, where the punchline is supposed to be the discrepancy between the two fractions and what they expect, mostly by making one of the expectations come off as worse than the other. However, I find the punchline to be Charlie Brown (and as such what Dobson seems to see as something he does not want to be favorable compared too) quite insulting. Why, as I said, will be elaborated on sooner.

First, let me just get on the part I find laughable: The fact that Dobson in his own head seems to believe he can be even remotely compared to people like Paul Dinni, Bruce Timm, Greg Weismann, Justin Roiland, Miyazaki, Shigeru Miyamoto and all the other character creators and animators whose creations we see in the first panel.

 Dobson, don’t make me laugh. Putting aside the fact that those people are animators more than cartoonists, what makes you even believe in your wildest dreams you are on the same level as them? The fact you too are an animator, seeing how you graduated from an art school with a degree in that field? I have seen your contributions to the field and honestly, I would expect a bit more. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0tdWNCrIxo

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ps6PfiUCxHQ

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4PyonOqClf8

 I give you credit, you can animate. Which is more than I can say for myself when it comes to the arts. But when you look what other freelance animators can do online, some of them younger than you and NOT with a degree in animation…

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=64&v=FmkAcGz1BJk&feature=emb_title

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=97IfPfjSaDg

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eEUoxQ4qSfs

 Viviepop’s demo reels alone are just gorgeous to look at and more fluid than what I have seen of you. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFlha-KOKCc

 And it is not just the technical quality, Dobson. It is also just the overall “originality” of your work. Cause this is the thing with those animators hinted on in the first pic and even many, many freelancers/fanartists as well as webcomic creators online: They have a spark of originality in presentation and storytelling that you lack. I will one day go more into detail for that, but here is the most brutal thing I can say at the moment: I know shitty porn fanfictions, that have more plot development and character growth than all of Alex ze Pirate.

Your characters and stories tend to be derivative and you barely take any risks in telling a story. Neither in your fanbased work (like the Miraculous comics) nor your original content (mostly because you take comfort in four panel strips anyway)  and when you have an idea for something on which the basis idea actually sounds good, you screw it up by a lackluster execution. One example I want to give for that, would be this fanart of yours in regard to Steven Universe.  

(I apologize for not getting one in better quality) This pic was something Dobson created around 2015 for Steven Universe. The picture is supposed to show Lapis, trapped under the ocean following the events of the season 1 finale of the show. A very emotional situation if you are aware of why Lapis sacrificed herself and was “banned” to the ocean floor. Short explanation: Fused with Jasper and then took primarily control of the fused being they became (Malachite) by using her water powers to bond it with heavy water chains on the ocean floor, so that Jasper would not hurt Steven anymore.

 How much of that was even an emotional strain on her and her psyche was in one episode of season 2 even a theme, as seen here.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SK3l8mGNhMg

 I am not even a fan of the show and I get the emotional weight and impact of Lapis actions.

So… why is that not conveyed in the artwork? If you are so talented Dobson, why is none of the strain and despair on the character? The idea of a pic showing Lapis under water, longingly looking up, even in despair is a good basis for a fanart. But the execution lacks any emotional detail. You want to know how I would execute the thing if I had the artistic talent? Make the picture a huge horizontal pic, where we slowly decent from water surface down the ocean. The light getting dimmer. Blue turning into dark. The silhouette of a hand and an arm similar to Malachite’s in the background, trying to travel up, the fingertips barely touching the surface. Heavy chains around the flesh. Symbolic of the fusion trying to break free and cause havoc. And down on the dark bottom, beaten and exhausted Lapis with tears in her eyes and chains all over her body like she is Jacob Marley, desperately trying to keep Malachite at bay for the sake of the only being on earth who ever showed just a little bit of kindness towards her.

 Why can’t we have something like this here, Dobson? If you were even remotely as original as the creators you want to be compared with, I think you could come up with something like that and perhaps even draw it.

But you know, his delusions of being as good as them is one thing. It is even funny.

Pissing over the Peanuts is another. Dobson, what are you trying to hint at?

That people comparing you to Charles Schulz and his creation is in your eyes automatically a sort of insult? That it is something that should at best only be a mockable punchline in a comparison?

Just to clarify a few things: I am NOT much of a fan of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts as a property. As a child, I was just not very entertained by them. Yes, I saw animated movies, episodes and specials of them here and there and my grandparents gave me volumes of them to read, but as a whole I never thought them quite as entertaining than other comics or cartoons I watched. Some parts of Peanuts animation felt to me often times like just dead air (especially parts of Snooby dancing with Woodstuck, as they had no function to move the plots forward) and I really could not stand how some characters treat Charles on a regular basis. I mean, we all agree that Lucy is one of the worst female characters in fiction and that even while we hate Family Guy, this clip likely gave some of us some sort of satisfaction, right?

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZkJAx8FycI

 But before the Peanuts fan out there go and want my head on a silver platter, let me make one thing clear: I may not like the Peanuts franchise… but I respect it and the man behind it.

 Charles Schulz drew the comic strip from October 1950 till late 1999 (the final strip being finished months before it would be published on February 13 of 2000, one day after he died of colon cancer) , creating a total amount of 17,897 Peanuts’ strips. His work marks a major impact in the nature of newspaper comic strips and inspired many people out there, including Bill Watterson, to create comics or be in the field of animation. His achievements include among other things, that he created what many people consider the first animated Christmas special ever. The names of his creations became nicknames for the Apollo 10 command module and its’ lunar modul. Four of the five Peanuts movies in existence (animated made for tv specials not withstanding now) were written by him. And the fifth was only not by him, because that one came out in 2015, a decade and a half after he died.

And speaking of things Schulz wrote for the Peanuts, let me mention two things. Two things that though I am not a fan of the Peanuts, I have mad respect for existing in the realm of animation. Two animated specials that stuck with me ever since I was eight.

 “What have we learnt, Charlie Brown?” from 1983 and “Why, Charlie Brown, Why?” from 1990.

 In the first special, which functions as a semi sequel to the fourth Peanuts’ movie “Bon Voyage, Charlie Brown”, the characters actually travel across France and after ending up on Omaha Beach and Ypres the special turns into a tribute to the soldiers who fought in World War 1 and 2, elaborating on the sacrifices made during the war by showing actual footage of fights, recordings of Eisenhower and reciting the poem “In Flanders Fields” among other things. Do you know how impactful it is to learn about the world wars as a small kid, by being reminded of the actual sacrifices others made in order for your own grandparents to survive?

 And speaking of grandparents, I lost my grandmother as a child by cancer. So when I saw the second special I mentioned, you can bet it stuck with me. After all, of all the things in the world, the Peanuts addressing the seriousness of cancer by having a story where a friend of Linus is diagnosed with leukemia and we follow the emotional impact it has on Linus and the girl? Again, I may not like the franchise, but I am not ashamed to admit I think the special treats the subject with a lot of respect and dignity while telling a good story. You bet your ass I get a bit teary eyed when the little girl survives her leukemia treatment and finally gets on that swing again. Those two specials alone are more mature than ¾ of the shit Dobson likes to gosh about, including his oh so precious gay space rocks. And just for those things existing I have respect for Schulz, his creation and the impact it had on so many people. As such, Dobson “belittling” the Peanuts, at least for me, is a freaking insult. The only way Dobson could have been even more insulting is if he called Schulz something derogative.  Dobson should be glad if his life’s work in total could even amount to 10% of what Schulz has done and achieved.

 Cause Dobson, you are NOT a Charles Schulz. Schulz served during the second world war on the front, fighting actual Nazis instead of calling idiots on the internet fascists for not liking Star Wars. He had integrity and work ethics that drove him to draw and write over 17.000 strips, while you can not even finish one FREAKING story. He knew how to tackle a mature subject, while you make shitty shipping jokes involving Ladybug and Cat Noir and claim Steven Universe knows how to be about psychological trauma, when it just romanticizes abuse. He may have drawn simplistically, but at least he could tell a joke instead of constantly berating others for not sharing his opinion. He did all of that and more without having graduated from college.

 And what have you done, Andrew Dobson?

If Dobson reads this, there is one thing in my opinion he should take away from more than anything else: That if people compare him to Charles Schulz’s work, that it means a) he should not be ashamed of it and b) they overestimate him.

[popculturebuffet]

Reviewcaps: Amphibia: Swamp and Sensibility / Wax Museum

This week Anne tries to treat life like a ABCFamily Original Movie with predictable results while Kermit the frog cameos and the rest of the family wonder into a few possible Jordan Peele Movies. Then Anne stumbles into a Gravity Falls Homage and Frog Stan nearly murders her because that’s our boy. That’s our boy right there. Be warb under the cut. 

Wooo hoo! While this one’s a little wait both due to work on another review for a certain episode, this was a decent episode to cap off our long road trip. We’re now one week away from Marcy debuting and also Keith motherfucking David. 

I have no idea what enlisted is or what the hell is going on here but it’s keith david casually laying on a bicyle in full uniform. How could I not? 

Before we get to this week here’s last week’s recap, as tumblr ate it for reasons..  as you can also see if you click on my blog I tided up my subpages, so amphibia reviews can now be found in the general disney section along with ducktales and star vs. Now that’s out of the way our last episodes before marcy and keith, i’m a day behind, let’s a go. 

Swamp and Sensiblility

I”m also going to try going a bit looser.. still recapping what happens but not beat for beat as it’s gotten tiring and I sometimes strain for jokes especially when tired. So this week The Plantars find themselves stranded in Ribbiton, the most expensive city in amphibia after betsy breaks her reigns and, not having any other options are forced to stay with Hop Pop trying to keep the kids from getting distracted by the luxury. Thankfully they find an old friend: It’s One Eyed Wally!

Actually got an outside gif to work! Also hooray! But I did really like wally after his spotlight episode last season and his insane plan with the explosives that wound up paying off.. that’s some Wolverine level thinking.. no really he once cut the wires open in a sewer during a rainstorm so when the water inevitibly hit them it’d cause a blackout and hopefully help the x-men when it did if things had gone sideways.. which by the time it did, it did and they had. So good on you guys.  Anyways turns out Wally’s a rich boy but he’s gone too far because he know it don’t matter anyway.. and has been hiding his true self from his family, so the plantars showing up really dosen’t help. Thankfully he’s able tos top them from talking or correcting his father assuming their the help and our family takes lord rich asshole up on his offer to stay the night at their mansion, which in what I assume is a nod to gravity falls has peacocks on the lawn, though this being Amphibia their giant and deadly and you shouldn’t look right at them. 

Once in their fancy guest room, Anne wonders...

Wally explains, as I did he’s hiding himself. Anne sees parallels with a movie she was watching at the start of the episode from point to pop and lock which looks like my own personal hell.. aka an abc family original movie back before it became freeform, which is a more fitting name for what the network horrifcally mutated into over time so fair enough. It’s better than say keeping the names MTV or TLC long after either of those acronyms is at all accurate.. and at least with MTV they have almost 40 years of brand recognition to justify it with. But yeah it’s about a ballerina who wants to hip hop dance, you’ve seen the story a million time.. and a plot repeated here about a kid wanting to live their dreams but worrying their family won’t accept them or knowing they won’t, with wally, while not carrying for the money, not wanting to loose his family or his beloved bug... which reminds me of that Pokemon episode with James and his growlithe only without a carbon copy of jesse trying to use bdsm to make james obey which is not how that works Jessebelle. That’s not how any of that works. What.. what even was that episode.. I mean somehow it was really good and makes me question why Jesse and James never hooked up but still, what WAS that. 

Anyways, while Anne decides to interfere, the Plantars get a great montage of wondering into various creepy shit with toad saunas, rich people smashing things, and one frog in a peacock outfit among actual peacocks.. just.. yeah.. real Jordan Peele/Blumhouse “Rich white people are fucking terrifying” shit.. which is accurate. Thankfully instead of getting trapped in their own bodies or forced to star in the boy, our heroes make it back to Anne.  At dinner Anne outs wally as a frigging weirdo with predictable results. Yeah the one flaw I can find with this episode is it’s REALLY predictable up to this point: Anne watches a movie, is obviously going to encounter someone with similar problems, then tries using that movie as real life, it fails but then somehow workso ut in the end or dosen’t but the person is happy anyway. What does spice it up though is the final act, as Wally decides fuck it , he’s going to take control of his own life and issues a family challenge against his dad to do so, something Anne, and me honeslty, had forgotten about from last season as that was 30 years ago and one of the less memorable episodes. Still nice bit of continuity. But with wally lacking a mount because his dad’s a prick, Anne pitches in to fix her screw up and we get a decently shot sequence, and amontage, as Anne and Wally play rich polo against wally’s dad. Oh and of course the more notable part of this, Kermit the Frog here, if sadly the minty fresh matt vogel one instead of the sadly fired Steve Whitmire.. still not over that but oddly Vogel does a better job here than on muppets now as I genuinely could not tell it was him so it works. But yeah, it’s not Vogel doing a voice but Kermit DOING voicework for amphibia, because Muppets get wonderfully meta and Disney wanted to keep this gimmick going. yes going, as last year Fozzy did voice acting for Big City Greens... I fucking love this and hope disney keeps doing it for all their shows. Do Owl House next. 

Anywho Kermit commentates and it’s okay, they don’t do much with him but the sheer novelty of Kermit playing a thinly veiled copy of himself that still looks like a muppet still kinda works. Anyways wally ends up winning via hair accordion (”How long has that been in there?” “At least a full season”) and his dad dosen’t want Wally to leave the family.. which neither does he, he just wants to be accepted, his father accepts him, reveals he also likes music, happy end.  Final Thoughts: As you can tell I kinda breezed through this one but unlike other just okay episodes lately i’ts not half bad and while using a stock plot, it does use it cleverly, and to help flesh out a character we like.. it’s still very by thenumbers but the neat setting of the rich people mansion, the plantars journey through it’s creepy bowels and kermit the frog cameoing all really help boost what otherwise would’ve just be “the episdoe before the gravity falls homage” it still was but it was enjoyable enough. It’s just in a day where disney said gay rights and i’ts sister episode is again an homage to one of Disney’s greatst shows in it’s storied animated television history, it’s also easy to forget. If nothing else it was nice to have Wally back. I do think that helped. As you can probably also tell these road episodes have been wearing on me.. while their not BAD, and some are infact quite excellent, a few like this one, quarallers pass, and the acting and western episodes, are just.. eh. The character flaws they bring up are only one episode and they don’t really felsh out the charcters enough. Even here while it’s nice to get more dimension to wally i’ts not really by much. They just feel fairly stock in a show that while using some stock plots usually can do so creatively. I think that’s the core problem: it’s not that these are TERRIBLE it’s just I expect better form the show in a typical episode, and from the interesting setups the road brings, especially since it DOES deliver on them in other episodes and i’m kinda glad this stretch is finished next week. That being said it does go out on one hell of a note.. 

Wax Museum So after weeks of anticipation, our road trip ends on an episode that was hyped up before the season even began.. a weird move given this is week 5 and i’d of saved the interviews for closer like Disney does with ducktales, but regardless, this one was worth the wait.  First my quick, since I tend to go overboard on my thoughts on shows, thoughts on Gravity Falls: It’s fucking excellent. I stand by calling it one of disney channels best shows and while certaint hings could’ve used more time, like Dipcifica seriously I have no idea why tease that and then do nothing with it when they still had plenty of time left int he series even with Ford. But yeah a few minor quibbles aside the series was really good, left us wanting more which after seeing other shows sputter into flames at the end, hello Star Vs, I can live with. So yeah I was hyped for this one, especially since Amphibia creator Matt Braley not only worked on Gravity Falls but got Gravity Falls creator Alex Hirsch’s blessing.. and of course, Alex being a peach of a guy, just yesterday he proudly cooed over the fact Dana Terrance actually got Disney to have a bisexual lead character after he struggled to get anything remotley LBGTQ into gravity falls. He’s a good guy. And a weirdo but he’s my kind of weirdo. But being so nice, he naturally agreed to return as stan expy the curator and frog soos. While that is all we get, I do get not wanting to shohorn 80 refrences to the show in or get a ton of voice actors to come back for a cameo, nor try and include the twins due to the plot of this episode really not working with them around, thougH I WOULD have appricated frog mcgucket, but eh, you can’t get everything you want.  Said plot is again simple but really intresting: The Plantars stop in a small town and are dead broke, but Anne casually taking off her hood and being reminded she’s seen as a freak ends up as a lucrative buisness opprotunity as naturally small town yokels are fine with gawking. So with the plantars now having actual money to see the sighs Anne settles on the curosity hut, our mystery shack for the evening. The rest of the plantars, especially Polly who sees some eyes move, are utterly unverved byt he place and by it’s owner, the curator, our stan pines.. or stan ponds if you will. I mean if the series has a chuck and other normal names here an there, including Polly, then it’s not a stretch to say his first name stayed the same. Anyways, Stan shows the family around, including Air Mantis, because hell yes and some gnomes and other callbacks to gravity falls.. but I like how theirs only a handful to gravity falls monsters. There’s plenty of refrences but the episode wisely goes more for the FEEL of Gravity Falls: The creepy setting, weirder monsters (even if amphibia dosen’t shy away from weird , last episode had sheep bugs and all), and spooky vibe from the curosity hut all feel like the tone Gravity Falls went for, which is similar enough to amphibia the two mesh well. Plus the curator is basically a SLIGHTLY more evil stan pines... SLIGHTLY., and Braly naturally having worked on the show nails the character in writing while Hirsch steps back into the roll like it was just yesterday. It feels like a love letter to what the show was rather than just “hey remember this cool thing from it”, with still plenty of nice nods here and there. 

Anyways back to the actual plot, the rest of the Plantars decides to leave because this place gives them the creeps as does Stan, but once htey leave Anne finds something: A skipman! Which is a great name for a portable cd player.. seriously I had one of those early in high school, the skipping really was constant hell. If anyone ever complains about mp3s, smack em. I do not miss that era. Have a bit of nostalgia for it sure, but I do not actually MISS it. 

Anyways, yeah this is a big deal and it’s nice that even in the homage to it’s parent show, we get a rather big plot point: something else came from Earth and given Anne dosen’t recognize it as Marcies, though It still could be but I highly doubt it, it didn’t come with the three of them, meaning there were humans BEFORE.. possibly centuries in amphibia time given what we’ve seen so far. After all a great calamity had happened, it somehow invovles the box that brought anne here... no one says time travel can’t be involved. And it’ll raise even more in a minute. But first Stan offers a million coppers for it. not being made of money Anne instead bargins on her weirdness: One day of performance in exchange for the discman. Sounds good Stan. He certainly doesn’t have any evil plans. Wink... he’s telling you he’s winking because one eye’s under an eyepatch. Naturally Stan has less than good intetions and ominously plots to frog soos.. which I absolutley love how they just call him frog soos, who postulates on multiverse theroy because he’s apparently been licking himself agian. Oh that soos... I always knew he was on something. Also while he dosen’t get a high from it I don’t doubt human soos also licks himself for unrelated reasons. 

Anyways the rest of the family are skpetical of Anne meeting stan at night.. which is fair. I wouldn’t want my nieces or nephews, and one of the nephews is around anne’s age, around stan alone for any length of time. I mean he’s fine with his own family but I know i’d find them in a child size armadillo suit having been fed questionable canned meats after having to dance for gawking yokels. Plus stan has resting “Call the police fan” so HOp Pop wants to just discuss it in the morning first before remotley trusting this guy. But anne impulsively decides to just sneak out when their asleep. More on that in a bit.  Naturally trusting the strange man she just met who presumibly traffics ladypugs in this reality and constnatly looks like he wants your wallet goes poorly as Stan traps Anne and plans to incase her in wax like the other exibits. The plantars realize anne is missing and rush in with Polly trying to face her fear and ending up freeing ah orrifying monster “This is way worse’ indeed. Meanwhile Stan is annoying anne who’s praying for the wax to get her in one of the best bits of the episode.. because of COURSE stan would talk inncoently to someone he’s kdinapped while eating canned beef. To me it’s another nice touch: While the caretaker IS more of a villian than stan, for obvious reasons, given he’s put a random person behind glass just for not buying things, dressed his own grandson up in a humilating wolf suit and had soos use a fucking boiler for his employee break room, it’s not a hgue stretch to say a pre-character development, i.e. pre dipper and mabel to convince him to be slightly better, Stan would kidnap a bunch of freaky wax creatures. It’s also why i’m okay Jason Ritter and Krystin Schall didn’t return. Their great and I woul’dve loved to have dipper and mabel back.. but the episode just dosen’t work with them in it even as a cameo, and they could easily show up in a followup later if they choose to bring this character back. Probably not but hey stranger things have happend.  Stan does however reveal something important: He got the discman from newtopia.. where a bunch of OTHER artifacts are. Thankfully before that information becomes useless to Anne, Sprig and Hop Pop show up to the rescue and Stan fights them thinking their cops as he dosen’t want to go back to frog jail. And even once he finds out their not, he still wants a new attraction because this is stan and again, as good as he is by series end, or at least marginally better, I still wouldn’t put it past him to put sentient creatures in wax. This however backfires as once Polly frees the creature above sprig and hop pop free the rest, and the giant throng of monsters drags Stan off, with blood popping up.. though he assures us it’s just wax so he could show up again. Probably not. He also offers htem 10 perecent, and goes up to 11.5 but that’s as far as we go. Goodbye again stan. I’ll miss you buddy. Seriously I absolutley loved the character and even with a shifter copy it was really nice to have him back for an episode.  The family carts Anne off and back at the campsight Anne bemoans not getting the skipman.. luckily Sprig grabbed it on their way out, because h’es a good friend, but Hop Pop and Pollly are annoyed at anne for once again recklesly endangering herself without considering them and forcing them to save her (As polly pefectly puts it I”m tired of facing my fears anne) And that’s why I saved that: this episode deconsturcts anne’s tendency to act before she reallyt hinks or consult anyone else and actually has the family confront her on it, though she does genuinely apologize so hopefully it’ll stick. But yeah now newtopia offers even more promise and anne offers hop pop an accidental laser to the eye vai the skipman to close out the episode.  Final Thoughts: As you can probably tell If reaking loved this one. Instead of just apping gravity falls, as I pointed it out i more felt like a gravity falls episode in miniture, mixed with Amphibia to still feel like it belonged in amphibia, and with Stan back just slightly more evil. Slightly. Alex Hirsch was as always a massive delight and it was a treat to have him back, and it was a really damn good note to close the road trip out on after some middling episodes, toadcatcher excluded. Not much else to say, it was really damn good, easily the seasno’s second best after toadcatcher.  Next Time:  MARCY. KEITH DAVID. Ants? Good times. Until then you can find more disney reviews under the disney tab on my blog including the entire season of amphibia thus far and season 3 of ducktales thus far. Until we meet again, courage. 

[iphoenixrising]

okay, so: that kaciart where Kon has Tim pinned, and also that ryripeachy art with Justice Lord!Kon (or Prime) and Kon. Honestly I don’t know how to work the first art in but I LOVE it and I want it. The second, there are two things the Kons can agree on: they’re hot and they would unashamedly tap that, but more importantly: them realizing that they both want to keep Tim (safe) and that if they /share Tim, they get /more Tim. Tim neither leaves the bed for 3 days nor can he even /walk ; )

Babe. I’m sorry this sat for so long because good God have I been thinking about it. About Prime Kon, Prime that once saved the universe during Crisis and went to the paradise dimesion with Alex Luthor and basically went insane. 

(He was a good guy once. He save the universe once at the sacrifice of his own...)

And Justice Lord Kon that honestly, truly believes he is helping save humanity from itself, that what they’re doing is not only right but necessary. 

These two absolutely have no qualms working together. Especially when they see Earth-1 Red Robin for the first time. And completely underestimate him. They get to see him in action, probably have to fight him at some point. Of course, he’s just a human, so underestimating him immediately is pretty much bad guy standard. When Red Robin absolutely beats their asses without breaking a sweat, makes Justice!Lord Kon and Prime run with their tails between their legs, and the spark of interest is instantly born. 

For Prime, it’s because Red Robin tried to talk him down before the kryptonite ring came out, tried to reason with him, tried to remind him he was a savior of the universe, that the shield on his chest stands for hope. Red Robin tried to take him down without hurting him, and when that didn’t work, he did what was necessary to stop what he perceived as a threat to his team.

(Something in his chest expanded when Red Robin said “Kon-L,” with gentleness and affection in his voice.)

Lord!Kon is attracted to strength and will, to Red Robin’s obvious strategic skill directing the rest of Earth-1′s Titans while fighting his own fights. It’s apparent he’s an amazing human when he’s able to pick out Lord!Kon’s weaknesses easily, refusing to give in and let them “enslave” their Earth.

(He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get how humanity needs to be kept under control, kept safe. He doesn’t realize it, not yet, but Lord!Kon will make sure he eventually does. They always come around.)

Either has no problem licking his wounds and making a fool-proof plan to trap the former Robin far, far away from any form of help. A second fight when the both baddie Kons don’t take Red Robin for face value, work together to use more strategy rather than just super powers and vicious intent. Watching Red Robin work is so incredibly arousing, but once he’s finally been overpowered, the evil Kons can literally only think of keeping him in bed to own that in every possible way.

it’s even better to think of the lengths either of these versions of Kon would go to in order to keep his Red Robin safe and sane and the hell away from the shitty people that keep wanting to use him and throw him away. The Bats, the JLA, even the Titans. Their plan hinges on convincing Red Robin that everyone else in his life wants him for something he can do for them, not simply because he’s Tim.

And you know the twisted nature of Stockholms Red Robin eventually falls into (because when in his life has anyone taken care of him like this – except for Ra’s…which is a whole issue itself because the two Kons have no qualms brutally murdering the Demon’s Head when ninjas somehow infiltrate their stronghold). He’s a detective and all the evidence is right in front of his face, that maybe, maybe this could be somehow real. Maybe he should be with both Kons after all. Maybe he’s the only one that can stop the bad Kons from doing awful things if he just stays with them and keeps them from hurting people that way, that maybe–

But, you know. Just musing babe.

[pass-the-bechdel]

Stargate: Continuum

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Five (17.24% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twenty-four.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Episode Quality:

Smashing! Now this is a movie finish worth making.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Great finish, guys.

Female characters:

Samantha Carter.

Vala Mal Doran.

Heather.

Quetesh.

Nirrti.

Male characters:

Walter Harriman.

Siler.

Paul Davis.

Cameron Mitchell.

Hank Landry.

Daniel Jackson.

Teal’c.

Jack O’Neill.

The Last Ba’al.

Grandpa Mitchell.

Original Ba’al.

Alternate O’Neill.

Wood.

Bernacchi.

Schaffer.

Roche.

Alternate Landry.

Alternate Teal’c.

Apophis.

Cronus.

Henry Hayes.

George Hammond.

Alex.

Camulus.

OTHER NOTES:

Of course Ba’al is the Big Bad for the last SG1 outing ever. Best villain(s) they ever had.

“How’s tricks, B?”

“The stargate...is in a box.”

The way time travel works in this movie is very illogical, but they buy the concession with quality storytelling. 

Daniel had his leg amputated and you know I love those kinds of consequences.

The montage of the team trying to tell their story is great. Excellent way to communicate the frustration and repetition. 

Reality ensues! I’m super into it. 

Sassy ol’ Apophis. Love it.

Pffft Quetesh name-drops Zipacna as a ‘once-powerful system lord’. That giant dingus? C’mon.

Ba’al is so smug, and it’s as insufferable as it is hilarious.

I can’t believe I’ma be ruled by Camulus in this timeline. I mean, unless the Free Jaffa get my end of the country, but let’s be real. Camulus would stick them with the shitty west coast. I’ll be stuck with Camulus.

I’m a fan of Ba’al’s whole more-flies-with-honey approach. 

He didn’t exactly play it right with Quetesh though, huh? The whole taking-her-as-his-queen thing (with the touching that she flinches at, et al) rings that lovely assault bell, which is extremely unnecessary. The only logical (’logical’) reason for Ba’al to have kept Quetesh alive at all is out of pure arrogance, which admittedly is neither OOC for a Goa’uld nor is it inconsistent with the insufferable smugness I mentioned earlier. That said, the forward-thinking involved in Ba’al blending his dominance with mercy over his subjects in order to keep them in line by giving them juuust enough of what they want implies a level of intelligent planning which is totally at odds with keeping an old enemy subjugated by his side as a bauble instead of either killing her or treating her in the same manner as he has every other system lord he conquered, and it wouldn’t have taken much effort to write Quetesh into the same circumstances as everyone else and still have her turn on Ba’al when the opportunity arose. We could have neatly avoided any implication of abuse, and it would have been a smarter choice for Ba’al (which, under the circumstances, would also be much more realistic than him having such a massive lapse in judgment as forcing his enemy to become his queen. Like that won’t obviously go wrong. Seriously).

Extracting a Goa’uld with a needle straight between the eyes may be visually engaging, but it’s nonsensical. Whatever.

This movie is so much better than the other one, damn. The characters and their personalities and wants and decisions actually matter to the story! It has emotional nuance! It has pacing! The plot has complications which follow in a sensible order and which involve all of our leads within the same narrative, no useless B-plots allowed! It’s almost like someone really tried to make it work this time instead of phoning it in. 

This movie gets us back to the basics with the Goa’uld, it trades in nostalgia, but it doesn’t get bogged down in rehashing old plot and it has plenty of fun with the time travel conceit. Having Ba’al essentially deal with everything SG1 dealt with over the years in order to model events to his benefit was a great way to bring the show full-circle without being totally obvious about it - we get some cameos and references to remind us of how things once were, the things our characters faced over the years to make the world (and the galaxy) into what it was for them before Ba’al tried to mess with history, but this isn’t a movie about repeating the past, and it makes its very own endgame out of the premise while also tying off the last great loose thread: not just the question of whether or not there were any more Ba’al’s on the loose, but the entire lingering notion that there might still be Goa’uld out there gathering themselves to cause a major ruckus. This show began with the Goa’uld in almost total control of the galaxy, and absolutely The Ones To Beat: even if there ARE some other low-level Goa’uld biding their time out there, with the thwarting of the Boss Level ambitions of our final, wily Ba’al, we establish once and for all that handling naughty space worms is old hat for our heroes, and the story we began over a decade ago now, is done. All that’s left is a full series review.

[sareyen]

The Price of Hope (Cherik): Part 3/4

Read on ao3

Legion (2010) AU: The apocalypse is coming, and the key to humankind’s survival lies in a pregnant waitress and a rag-tag group of strangers, all broken in their own ways. Charles, the oldest of the archangels, sacrifices everything - his wings, his Gift, Erik - to help the humans that Heaven has given up on. Because, he believes, that even if they stumble and lose their way, it doesn’t mean that they are lost forever.

Chapter 3

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

Revelation 21:4

When Moira asked Charles about what they had to do, she didn’t expect him to ask her and Darwin to cook lunch. Even though it was pitch black outside because of the unnatural cloud cover, the clock said that it was just past one in the afternoon, everyone’s stomachs rumbling the moment Charles mentioned food.

Now, Darwin was busy frying up burger patties, thankful that the generator was still functioning even if everything else seemed to be blown to pieces.  Meanwhile, Moira and Sean assembled the burgers, and Logan and Sean had taken the first watch on the rooftop having scoffed down the first burgers (and a beer for Logan). Hank and Raven, on the other hand, sat in one of the booths, munching on their own meals.

Hank didn’t have much of an appetite, not when he knew that there were dead bodies shoved into the commercial fridge out back, Moira not wanting to leave the corpses sitting there decaying in the front of the house. Still, he knew that he needed his strength for what was to come, especially if he wanted to protect Raven.

Hank looked at the young woman sitting opposite him in the booth, chewing around her burger carefully, her appetite no better than his own despite being pregnant. Raven’s hair was dishevelled and soaked with sweat, and the skin under her eyes was dark, her pupils themselves haunted and afraid. Still, Hank thought that she was beautiful, and could only agree with what the fallen angel had said – Raven was strong, so, so strong, and she always has been. Hank had always known it.

“I’m here for you, you know,” Hank said quietly, Raven’s head snapping up from where she was busy staring at a piece of fallen lettuce. Raven’s eyes widened when Hank reached across the table to take her hand in his, linking their fingers together tightly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Hank,” Raven whispered, eyes growing wet, before she smiled, big and wide and beautiful. “Please, I’ll be the one protecting you. I have the holy baby brewing in here, and out of the two of us, I’m a way better shot.” Raven winked, a tear slipping from her eye, the two youths smiling at each other warmly.

***

Alex sat at the counter, glowering down at his phone – he had been trying to contact his brother, but all the phone lines were still down. Alex had asked Charles if this apocalypse was happening everywhere, and Charles shook his head, saying ‘not yet, not if I can help it’. Charles had assured him that the vessels were only appearing here in this backwater town because of Raven, and that the rest of the world would not burn as long as her baby was still alive. Alex held on to that, only able to keep his head up by reminding him that Scott was still alright – for Scott, Alex would protect Raven and her baby, even if he died trying.

“Hey, man. Here’s some lunch,” Darwin said, sliding a plate across the counter and taking a seat himself, squirting some ketchup onto his fries. Darwin caught a glance at the picture on Alex’s phone, smiling a little. “Kid brother?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, brushing his thumb over Scott’s smiling face, the photo taken when his head lost his front teeth. “His name’s Scott. I was… on my way to see him, when… well.”

“When the apocalypse began?” Darwin supplied, Alex laughing despite himself, the sentence still sounding ridiculous to his ears even though he knew it was all true.

“Yeah. He’s been staying with relatives ever since… Ever since I went to jail,” Alex said, Darwin nodding – not judgemental, just listening. Alex relaxed a little, giving Darwin a grateful look. “I never talk about it with anyone, but I don’t know… if I die, I’d want someone to know. To, maybe, tell Scott what happened. So he doesn’t think that I just left him behind.”

“Hey, from what I can tell, you adore that kid. I’m sure he knows that,” Darwin said, bumping his shoulder with Alex’s, the blonde smiling a little.

“I hope so. But then again, I sometimes wished that he didn’t. He… Scott thinks I got sent to jail because of him. But it wasn’t his fault, not really. It wasn’t his fault that those assholes were scaring him and assaulting him. And it was my fault for letting my anger get the best of me, like always,” Alex said, eyes downcast.

“You were protecting your brother?” Darwin asked, Alex nodding.

“Yeah. I… I beat up those guys pretty bad. They hadn’t laid a finger on Scott, but they were about to. But since Scott wasn’t injured, I was booked for assault and locked up. Scott got sent to relatives because I wasn’t fit to be his guardian any more, but Scott sent me letters while I was in the slammer and our aunt… God, she’s not fit to look after him either.”

“So you were going to try and take him back?”

“To try give him a better life, the best one that I can,” Alex said, Darwin humming, patting Alex on the back comfortingly.

“Well, you’ll be able to do that, once we stop the world from ending,” Darwin said, nudging at Alex’s plate. “Come on, eat. If you thought my scrambled eggs were good, wait until you try my burger.”

***

Moira and Angel had hauled the dead bodies into the fridge, Angel staring at the body of her step-father numbly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Moira said, though her own hands were shaking, because God, she was wrapping corpses in cling wrap and shoving them in the freezer at her workplace. This was not what she was qualified for, and when she woke up, showered and ate her Cheerios this morning, she hadn’t expected her day to pan out like this.

Surprisingly, Moira hadn’t lost her mind yet – with everything that was going on, Moira was expecting to have some sort of breakdown (or three), but for some reason her head was clear and full of purpose. Maybe it was because of Charles, the fallen angel that seemed to have all the answers, a constant and steady presence that enveloped Moira with a sense of calm. Maybe it was because her co-workers had also taken the recent events in stride, pillars propping Moira up.

Or maybe it was because that, deep down, Moira had a sense that this was what she had been looking for. This had been that ‘something more’ that she had been waiting for her entire life, stuck in this dreary small town that people forgot on maps.

“You know what’s funny?” Angel said, gesturing to the corpse of the man that had tormented her for years. “He’s dead, and I don’t even feel relieved. I’ve dreamt for years about how I would feel when he was gone from this world. I don’t know, I thought it would feel… like I would be reborn, or something, but I just feel empty.”

“It’s probably hard to feel reborn when the world is literally ending,” Moira said, Angel huffing out a laugh.

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s because he was nothing. You know, like the monster under the bed that your mind made up when you’re little. Looking at him now, I realise that he was just a man. A horrible man, but also just a man. He used to seem so much bigger, like an insurmountable force, but he was snuffed out. Just. Like. That. It makes me wonder, you know. If we will be snuffed out like that. If I will. Because he was always so much bigger than me and still died.”

“I’ve never been religious, so I’m not going to start preaching about retribution and whatever, but I do believe in karma. And let’s just say that he was due to cash in,” Moira said, grasping Angel by the hand. “Look, you’re strong. You told me about what you did, saving all of those other girls. I’d say you’re holding onto a lot of good karma right now, so you’d be best to cash that in as well.”

Angel looked at Moira, before giving her a tight hug. Moira hugged her back just as tightly.

“Thank you, again. You’re building up your good karma too, you know,” Angel said, Moira laughing.

“I’d hope so. This is the apocalypse, I’m going to collect all the good karma I can get.”

***

Charles stood in front of the sink in the staff bathroom, shirt and tweed jacket hanging from the hook. Charles winced as he peered over his shoulder in the cracked and dusty mirror, dabbing at the wounds on his back – the pockets where his wings used to be, and the laceration the broken plate had sliced into his shoulder.

There were bloodied cotton balls sitting in the sink and the tang of medical alcohol hanging in the air, Charles crinkling his nose. Even as an angel, it was hard for Charles to reach the wounds on his back.

In the past, when wars were waged between the forces of Heaven and Hell, Charles had been injured. Unlike now, though, Erik had always been by his side, tending to Charles’s wounds while Charles did the same to the taller angel. Erik’s hands, which were always rough and wielded his sword like it was a part of him – because it was, with Erik’s Gift of controlling metal – were gentle whenever they dabbed at Charles’s wounds, like the immortal angel were a piece of glass.

Now, though, Charles was alone in a diner bathroom trying to wipe away the blood from his broken wings.

Charles was about to give up, grabbing the lilac sweater he had taken from some hapless man’s clothesline before coming to the diner, when the door to the bathroom abruptly opened. Charles jumped, not used to being surprised – his power usually alerted him when people were approaching, and without it, Charles was blind and more vulnerable than he had ever been before.

Logan stared at Charles’s shirtless form, eyes trekking across the wounds on his back and the pile of bloody gauze scattered around him.

“Need some help there, Chuck?” Logan asked, Charles sighing.

“If you would be so kind,” Charles said, Logan nodding and gently pushing Charles to sit on the closed toilet seat, back towards Logan. Logan washed his hands before taking out some more cotton from the first aid kit, dousing it in alcohol before applying it to Charles’s wounds. Charles bit back a hiss, and Logan let out a small snorting noise from the back of his throat.

“So angels feel pain too, huh.”

“Oh, we feel a lot of pain,” Charles said, mouth quirking up. “Some more than others.”

“I’m assuming you’re one of those in the ‘more’ category,” Logan said, Charles chuckling.

“What makes you think that?”

“Your bleeding heart,” Logan said, Charles quietening. “It’s obvious because you’re here, and not flying around with your buddies, razing the world to ashes.”

“Astute observation,” Charles mused, hunching over slightly as Logan continued to clean up his back. “A friend of mine once said that my ‘bleeding heart’, as you called it, would be the end of me.”

“Why sacrifice yourself, then? For us,” Logan said, moving from the cut on Charles’s shoulder to the scar of his left wing. “You said God doesn’t believe in us anymore. That he lost his faith. If he no longer has hope, why are you here?”

Charles was quiet, blue eyes closing as he remembered, remembered that day when He made the humans.

“When God chose your kind, as the object of his love, I was the first in all of Heaven to bow down before you,” Charles said, smile nostalgic. “Maybe it was because of my Gift. I knew how much He loved you, and I felt that love in turn. Then, I felt you all too – your feelings, they were unlike anything I’d experienced before. Angels do not feel like you do. You felt so much, so many different, wonderful things. It was amazing.” Charles glanced back at Logan, the man not betraying his emotions and focusing on cleaning Charles’s wounds, though the fallen-angel knew the man was listening.

“But, even with all of the good things, the good thoughts and emotions, there was the bad as well. I’ve watched you kill each other over race and greed, waging war over dust and rubble and the words in old books. And yet, in the midst of all this darkness…” Charles said, voice drifting off, throat suddenly clogged.

“I see some people who will not be bowed, who will not give up, even when they know all hope is lost,” Charles said, turning to face Logan now. “Like Moira, who shows kindness to people even in the hardest of times. Like Sean, who remains joyful even when things are bleak. Like Alex, who worries about his brother more than himself. Like Darwin, who comforts people amongst when they falter. Like Hank, who loves Raven with a purity that is becoming scarcer and scarcer in this world. And Raven, who has been given a burden yet has not cowered, who does not rely on someone to save her but wields her own strength like a shield and a sword.”

“And you, Logan,” Charles said quietly, resting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I may not have my Gift, but I know of you. You, who has nightmares over the people you couldn’t save, but forgets all those that you did. Those soldiers, your brothers in arms, that were able to go back home to their husbands and their wives, to their children and their parents, because you pulled them out of the fray. There is so much pain in you, but you still stand. You do not let it bring you to your knees.”

“That…” Charles concluded, turning back for Logan to wrap his wounds with cloth, hands steady but pausing as Charles spoke. “…Is why I am here. Because I have not lost faith. Because I believe that just because you’ve stumbled, and lost your way, that it does not mean that you’ll be lost forever.”

Logan finished wrapping up Charles’s injuries, standing up.

“Are you here to guide us then, Chuck? To lead us back to the path so we are no longer lost?” Logan asked, Charles standing too, turning around with bright eyes.

“Not just you, my friend,” Charles said, looking up into the sky.

Because you are not the only ones who are lost.

***

“Charles?”

Erik padded nimbly across the marble gazebo where his friend lay prone across a white bench, hands over his head. Erik usually tread lightly, trained to not make any noise, but always knew that even if he were completely silent Charles could feel him coming from clouds away.

That was why Erik was surprised when Charles let out a startled gasp when Erik placed his hand on the smaller angel’s shoulder, unaware of Erik’s approaching form.

“Oh! Erik,” Charles said, sitting up from his prone position hastily, which only made him let out a pained groan, wincing. Erik felt a faint stab of discomfort in his own mind, the copper-haired angel frowning as Charles’s face grew a shade paler. “I’m sorry, my friend. I did not mean to project that.” The phantom stabbing pain in Erik’s head disappeared immediately, his head a little empty.

“Why are you in pain, Charles?” Erik asked, not bothering to ask if his friend was in pain, knowing that he was – and knowing that Charles would deny it anyway. Charles rarely showed any discomfort – an occasional rub of his temple, maybe, but never a grimace nor a crinkle in his brow. Even during the War in Heaven, where both Erik and Charles had been injured when fighting against Sebastian and his rebel angels, Charles had not shown that his injuries affected him. In fact, he had shrugged off his own wounds to use his mind’s Gift to block out the pain of their brothers and sisters. Right now, though, Charles could not hide his hurt.

“It’s nothing Erik. A mere trifle,” Charles murmured, sitting up fully now. Erik kneeled down on the ground, his sword tapping against the marble from where it hung low on his hips.

“You can hear them, can’t you? His beloved children,” Erik said, nudging at Charles’s hung chin, forcing the angel to look at him. As Erik peered into Charles’s eyes, he could see the pain and sorrow that swirled in their depths, a kaleidoscope of the faces of all of those humans that plagued Charles’s mind.

“Yes,” Charles said, closing his eyes as he raised his hands to clasp Erik’s. Erik squeezed Charles’s hands in return. “It is war again, Erik. It’s always loud when there is war. But, like always, it will pass, and I will be fine.”

“It will pass for now, but you know it will come back again, Charles,” Erik said bitterly, eyes aflame. “Them, the humans, wage war over and over. They continue to revel in the deaths of their own people, and yet they never learn.”

‘And you get hurt, every time,’ Erik supplied mentally, Charles sighing.

“Thank you for your concern, my friend, but you don’t need to worry about me. I am quite alright, it’s only a headache,” Charles said, offering Erik a lopsided smile. “And Erik, they have simply made a mistake again. They’ve just stumbled, and they only need to be taught to learn from their mistakes.”

“And how many times will you let them stumble until you realise that they no longer deserve to get up?” Erik asked sourly. “How long will you coddle them for? They are no longer infants, Charles, and yet they act like children.”

“I will always believe in them, Erik,” Charles replied, glaring at his friend a little when he merely scoffed at Charles’s assertion. “There is so much good in them, we only need to coax it out.”

“For someone whose sight is second only to God, you are truly blind Charles,” Erik replied, pulling himself to his feet and walking away, flicking out his wings with frustration. Charles watched his friend stalk off, frown etched on his soft features, before standing up himself.

There was still a buzzing in his head, but it had dulled, even if for a moment. Charles hadn’t been lying earlier – war was always louder than normal, and it took a lot of Charles’s energy to shut out the pain and the suffering.

Charles leapt off the marble platform and descended from Heaven, landing with grace on top of a dirt-caked building amidst a warzone. Charles could hear the patter of gunfire in the distance, weaving between the cries of soldiers barking out orders and singing to the beat of bombs tearing up the Earth.

Charles lightly glided from rooftop to rooftop, watching American troops hunker down in street bunkers, weapons drawn. The angel could sense that there were minds waiting in hiding, and after casting a glance over the minds of the Americans, Charles knew that they didn’t realise that there were enemy troops waiting to ambush them.

‘Much death will come,’ Charles thought grimly, bolstering his shields as he watched, hands clasped. Praying.

The insurgents rushed forward, catching the American soldiers unaware. Bullets sprayed and blood was spilled, turning the earth crimson.

But then, Charles could hear a voice that cut clear through the fog of death and anguish.

“I’ve got you!” the man yelled, voice rough as he gritted his teeth, lobbing out of the trench and darting forwards amongst the rubble and ricocheting bullets towards a soldier who leaned heavily against an abandoned Humvee, clutching at a gurgling bullet wound in his shoulder.

“Howlett,” the bleeding man rasped, the rough soldier grunting and shouldering his comrade’s weight, dragging him. “Leave me.”

The situation was dire; the insurgents outnumbered these two remaining soldiers, and there was nowhere for them to go. One man was injured, and the other had the best chance of surviving if he simply abandoned him. The soldiers knew it, and Charles knew it – but that counted for nothing, not when Howlett just grinned, his heart thumping.

“Not a chance,” Howlett – Logan, Charles’s mind supplied – dismissed his friend’s plea. Charles felt it then, just a spark rising above the hate and the hurt.

The desire to protect. Pure and untainted, even amongst the soot and ash.

Charles watched in rapture as Logan clung to the last thread of hope inside him, taking a gamble to defy the odds, even when they were stacked against him.

For his friend. His brother.

‘See, Erik? They are not so unlike us.’

‘I’d defy the odds for you, too.’

***

Alex clambered down the stairs, eyes wide.

“Something’s coming again,” Alex said in a rush, gesturing to the windows. Logan narrowed his eyes as he looked at Charles, who was already silently jerking his hand for Raven to duck behind the bar, Hank following her.

Peering out the window, Charles saw a single car pull up, and his blue eyes eyed at it with heady anticipation. Logan cocked his weapon, body tense.

“Are they one of them?” Moira asked, clutching onto her own gun as she wiped her brow with the back of her hand, beginning to sweat.

The car drew closer, stopping near the diner. From inside, everyone could see someone banging on the window, screaming. It was a child, a young boy around six years old, dressed in tartan flannel pyjamas and sporting a head full of light blonde hair.

“Help!” the boy screamed, hands slamming on the glass.

“Oh, Christ, it’s a child!” Moira said, alarmed, her eyes widening further when she saw a swarm of cars barrelling down the road, and from the way they were driving, everyone knew that those cars were filled with the possessed. Humans never drove in such perfect synchronisation.

The child continued to scream, and everyone looked at Charles, whose face was drawn up with pain.

“What do we do, Charles?”

“It’s a trap,” Charles muttered, face flashing with pain again, like the thought caused him physical distress.

The child wailed, eyes wide and tears flowing freely. Alex stared at the kid, who reminded him so much of his younger brother, Scott. Alex’s heart beat in his chest, mind screaming.

“We’ve got to get him!” Alex urged, beginning to rush to the barricaded door, only to be stopped by the butt of Charles’s gun.

“It’s a trap, Alex,” Charles said, shaking his head. The other cars pulled in closer, circling around the boy in the car, who looked around with a terrified expression on his young face. Everyone grew pale as the possessed began stepping out of their cars, creating a curtain of expressionless faces around the boy, obscuring him. It almost looked like their bodies were swallowing him whole.

“We can’t just leave the kid out there to die!” Alex fought, shoving Charles, his eyes only seeing Scott and imagining if that was his brother in the car, surrounded by those bodies possessed by murderous angels, vessels of the apocalypse with not a single shred of humanity in their hearts.

“I agree with Chuck, kid. Something about this stinks,” Logan said, Alex baring his teeth at the taller, broader man.

“So you’re going to leave a defenceless kid to those things?! Fuck you,” Alex said, pushing hard at Charles’s torso and running past him, flinging the front door to the diner open and unleashing a yell, spraying bullets from his assault rifle as he rushed forward.

“Shit! That fucking idiot!” Logan cursed and rushing to close the front door, perching in front of it with his gun trained at the opening. Everyone watched in horror as Alex ran into the fray, immediately being surrounded by the possessed bodies. Alex thrust open the car door, the boy scrambling into Alex’s arms as he cried. With the child in one arm and his gun in the other, Alex clambered onto the roof of the car, spraying bullets as bodies fell and edged towards him.

“He’s gonna get himself killed!” Angel yelled, Logan growling.

“We’ve got to do something,” Darwin said, scrambling for his gun.

Charles’s face was contorted in pain and slight panic as he watched Alex yell, clutching onto the young boy with desperation. Charles knew that he would run out of bullets soon, and once he did the possessed would climb over him and snuff him out.

But this had to be a trap, some kind of test. A taunt. He and the angels knew that Charles was soft hearted, they knew that he wanted nothing more than to jump into the fray himself and drag the boy to safety. Charles had hesitated, though, while Alex had held onto his faith and did not hesitate to sacrifice his safety for that of someone else.

Charles looked at Alex, whose eyes were beginning to dim as he realised that he was, likely, about to die.

Charles closed his eyes, blocking out the screaming in his head that came from no one but himself, giving Logan a look, the man looking stern but nodding.

“Everyone, go upstairs and provide us with cover fire. Hank, stay behind the bar with Raven. Protect her,” Charles said, everyone nodding quickly, rushing upstairs. Charles grabbed another one of the guns from where they were perched on the bar, throwing another to Logan, who caught it deftly.

“On three,” Charles said, Logan nodding. “One… Two…”

“Three!”

Logan and Charles rushed out, bullets firing to the staccato beat of bullets raining from above, Moira and the others hailing down gunfire like it came from Heaven itself. Charles and Logan tore through the mass of possessed, bullets making bodies drop before them, clearing a path towards Alex and the boy who stood atop the car like it were an island staving away a flood. Bodies dropped, parting like the Red Sea before Charles and Logan, the two of them reaching Alex quickly and covered in red.

“Alex, take the child and get back inside!” Charles yelled, Alex nodding in fear and adrenaline, hoisting the kid closer and leaping down from the car. Under the cover fire of the crew on the rooftop, but mainly due to Charles and Logan holding back the screeching throng of deformed possessed that rushed at them, Alex threw himself past the threshold of the diner.

“You okay, kid?” Alex asked the boy, who nodded, eyes large and wide. “Thank God. Or, not God, because he’s the one that got us into this mess. Anyway, stay here, kid.” Alex let out a tense sigh, grabbing a gun from the table and rushing upstairs to provide aid alongside the rest of the group.

With Charles, Logan and the others cutting down the numbers of possessed congregating outside, Hank and Raven sat huddled behind the bar, the two of them shaking slightly. Raven caressed her baby bump, not sure if she were soothing the unborn child or herself, and Hank’s hands were almost white with how tightly he was gripping his gun.

The young boy that Alex saved stepped around the side of the counter, Hank letting out a startled noise as Raven cursed loudly.

“Oh, God, I thought you were one of them,” Hank muttered, Raven nodding in agreement as she gave the child a small smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here,” Raven said, trying to reassure the boy who had been screaming and crying for his life just earlier, standing up. “Charles and Logan, and all of the others, they’re protecting us. They’re going t- ah!”

Raven screamed in pain and terror as the boy suddenly jumped forward, slashing out with a knife he had hidden behind his back. Hank let out a cry as he saw Raven fall to the floor, hand coming to her stomach where the knife had torn through her shirt, dragging a line of red across her belly.

Hank’s mind flashed with something he had never felt before, something that he never wanted to feel again, a surge of adrenaline bursting through his body.

“Get away from Raven!” Hank yelled, cocking his shotgun and firing. His first shot missed, the boy – the possessed boy – ducking and darting to the side, edging closer to Raven, who scuttled back across the floor with another scream. Hank reloaded, shooting again, his bullet hitting the boy in the arm, tearing it clean off.

“Raven!” Hank yelled out, fumbling with the shotgun bullets he had on the counter, eyes wide as the boy did not even let his blown-off arm stop him from going after Raven.

Raven cried out as she fumbled around her, grabbing whatever she could. Wrapping her fingers around a metal pan, Raven just threw it in front of her in time to block the knife that swung down in a precise arc, far too much strength going into the swing for a six-year-old child. The metal of the pan bent and dented, the boy letting out a snarl as he swung again and again, the metallic ping of knife against pan deafening even with the symphony of gunfire outside.

“Get away from me!” Raven hollered, kicking his leg up and knocking the boy backwards.

As the boy began to pick himself up, Hank gave up with trying to reload his gun, just grabbing it by the barrel and charging forward, screaming.

“Get the hell away from her!” Hank screamed, swinging the shotgun and smashing it down on the possessed boy’s skull, which caved in at the sheer force. The boy’s body landed with a heavy thud by Raven’s feet, blood pooling along the divots in the tiled floor.

Charles burst in having heard Raven and Hank’s cries, dreading the worst – to his relief, he found Hank hovering over a shaking Raven, the body of the boy Alex had tried to save motionless in a circle of his own blood.

Having cleared out the majority of the possessed outside – severely depleting their meagre weapon reserves in the process – Logan and Charles had run back inside. Moira and the others headed back down from the rooftop once what was left of the second wave of possessed retreated back into the fog, Alex stumbling when he saw the dead body of the boy on the floor.

“What happened?” Angel gasped.

“The child was possessed,” Logan said simply, the blood from Alex’s face draining. “It was a trap. Chuck was right.”

“Oh, God,” Alex churned out, dropping to his knees, legs giving out. “I… I didn’t… I thought… I could have…”

“You didn’t know, Alex,” Charles said, shaking his head. “You wanted to protect a defenceless child, and you did what you thought was right. No one can fault you for that.”

“But…”

“Everyone is alright, and Hank dealt with it,” Charles said, eyeing the bloodied shotgun sitting on the floor beside the lanky man, walking forward to pat his shoulder. “Good job.” Kneeling beside Raven, who was peeling back her sliced shirt, Charles dropped his voice. “Raven, are you okay?”

Raven, beginning to nod and assure the angel that she was fine suddenly found herself robbed of her breath, lurching forward with a strangled noise. Everyone let out noises of terror, Charles gripping the shoulders of the young woman tightly as she let out a long, laborious groan.

“Raven? Raven?! What’s going on?” Hank asked frantically, Raven pulling her head up, sweat beginning to bead on her brow as he blonde hair matted to her head. Her lips, slightly chapped, curled up in a strained smile.

“The baby’s coming.”

***

The seven archangels stood in the grand hall. Emma, blonde hair long, wavy and adorned with white pearls, stood with her diamond bow slung across her back and a self-assured smirk on her plush lips. Janos, silent and clad in his all-covering leather suit, rested his hands on the mace he held against the ground. Azazel grinned wildly has he twirled his large trident-like spear. Selene’s dark hair swayed in the breeze from where she stood to the side, her twin daggers hanging on either side of her shapely hips and arms crossed over her chest while she pursed her lips, waiting.

Erik stood by Charles, the two of them always standing side by side. Erik was the third archangel He created, and Charles had been there the moment he had been born. Erik remembered opening his newly formed eyes for the first time and peering into depthless blue, a gentle smile on Charles’s lips as he reached out a hand and murmured, ‘Hello, Erik. I’ve been waiting for you’.

Charles and Erik had been inseparable ever since that moment, the two flying across the world He had created. Charles showed Erik everything beautiful that He created, and Erik couldn’t help but think ‘But you’re the most beautiful of all’. Charles had, of course, heard the thought, red creeping up his cheeks and ears. Charles had smiled at Erik then, murmuring a soft ‘At least, until He created you, Erik’.

It wasn’t that Erik or Charles did not get along with the other archangels, it was only that they preferred each other’s company. Everyone just understood that it was ‘Charles and Erik’, the first born and the third, always side by side. No one questioned it – it was as ironclad as His will.

Sebastian, the second oldest of the angels after Charles, soon waltzed into the room with an air that was far too domineering, even if he were the strongest of the seven. He had a sly smirk on his face, one that Erik always thought contrasted so starkly with Charles, who was all things beautiful but did not flaunt it. Sebastian was overtly prideful, and though Erik did not mind the way he revelled in what was the nature of angels, he thought that there was something unholy stirring inside the second-born.

“Sebastian,” Charles said, offering the angel a warm smile, the taller man just grinning with thin lips.

“Brother,” Sebastian purred in response, sauntering over to Charles. Sebastian held little regard for the other archangels, believing that even they were beneath him. But, Sebastian was wary of Charles, since he was older – the oldest – and His most beloved angel. Sebastian was envious, for Charles was older but weaker. Sebastian was pure power, his Gift dipped in strength, and could best Charles in the training arena easily. Sebastian abhorred Charles’s Gift, one that seemed to mimic the will of God. Sebastian thought it was ridiculous for Charles to be entrusted with that power, for the man does not use it at all, which is why Shaw could trounce him over and over in mock combat.

On the other hand, Sebastian merely tolerated Erik, because he was the third born and close to his own age. Sebastian had to admit that Erik was powerful, though not as powerful as himself, the third angel’s Gift of metal proving him difficult to best in combat. It did grate on Sebastian’s nerves that Charles seemed to favour their younger brother, even if Charles was generally cordial with all of the angels.

“Do you know why we have been summoned?” Charles asked Sebastian politely, the man shrugging.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Brother. I believe that He will make his will known soon,” Sebastian said, Charles humming in agreement.

As if Sebastian’s words were an introduction, His presence suddenly filled the room, all of the archangels kneeling at the sensation that washed over them.

No words were spoken, but his will was clear.

Charles gasped, blue eyes open wide in wonder, red lips uttering the word for the first time.

“Humans,” Charles breathed, his mind filling with images of two people sharing a likeness akin to angels, but without the expanse of wings at their back and lifespans limited to under a century. These humans were beautiful and wonderful and so full of something unfamiliar and new, that something pulsing inside Charles. Charles’s heart beat rapidly as his mind seemed to sink into those of these creations called humans, these creations that He so loved.

And oh, Charles loved them too. Charles loved their feelings, which were so much stronger than those of the angels in the room with him. These humans felt with every fibre of their being, and it made Charles feel alive.

Charles looked at Erik, tears in his eyes, and Erik stared back at him with a wide, toothy grin.

“Erik, I can feel their minds. Their hearts,” Charles said, reaching forward to clutch at his closest friend, raising two of his fingers tentatively. “Erik, can I share these feelings with you? Their feelings?”

My feelings.

Erik nodded, closing his eyes as Charles placed to fingers at his temple, unleashing the buzz of these minds that had just been born, Erik gasping.

The first and the third were so entranced by His new creations that they did not notice Sebastian’s embittered scowl, which twisted and darkened into something unbefitting of the white marble Heavens.

You see, when humans were born, Hell was too.

Next chapter (4/4) → 

[shy-magpie]

RQG 154

Wherein red stringing occurs. Liveblog under the cut:

 Not much hype this week, just a lot of being quietly thrilled RSB got the beginning of the episode dedicated to us. I hope the rest of the fandom doesn't feel like Bryn plays favorites. Its sweet he back reads and answers questions but its nothing he wouldn't do in official. Last week was such a gift that I think it cut down on hype for this week because even if (Alex forbid) they immediately time skipped to the end of the week, quarantine still got us amazing backstory and character moments. Unless Alex gets truly desperate and has someone attack the inn or infects both the new kids, the characters are safe from physical danger so no fear hype either.

Yes I want follow up on that Hamid & Zolf conversation: I am so proud of him for calling Zolf out on being patronizing (I can't believe I didn't see earlier with his family, of course that's the aspect that got to him) and they need to figure out how to deal with the chain of command. Zolf already seems more willing to get input on his decisions so its mostly losing the attitude when things happen like Hamid casting lights. Yes I also want Cel to talk about themself more, but I am fine with waiting until they aren't locked up with no privacy. Azu's backstory is coming out at a decent pace and Helen spoils us so not even worried about not hearing more about her becoming a paladin. I am curious if Alex thinks its worth bonding with the new kids and this better not be a set up for splitting the party. So enough pre episode babbling, final bets on if they play with the brorb now or wait until they can take it to Cel's? Gotta love that music. Oh they do want to get back to things! Listen to how fast they're talking. That's nice I wouldn't have thought they'd be as excited about the pure RP backstory and character bits as they get about a boss fight. No Alex neither players nor fans want to skip anything. I will concede that further conversation was unlikely to be productive that night so the morning makes sense. There was only one corridor! Barnes is still using the stairs to get some space. Some might see it as a sign he is infected or afraid of infection but honestly not wanting to puppy pile with a group as tight knit as the party especially while they are shaking out their issues is valid. Azu checks on Carter who passed out drunk face down. Zolf is sleeping in. With Hamid's family issues, Bryn being so careful to specify he has a healthy relationship with alcohol every time makes it a lot easier to not tense up listening. Oh My God thanks Bryn! I know he said the beginning of the episode was dedicated to us but I was expecting a throw away line not a proper red stringing scene! I am grinning so big right now. Azu is watching Hamid Cel is sleeping curled up with the sealed bottle of elvish mead. Because Lydia is as much a criminal as Bryn just plays a longer game. Speaking of criminal, Ben really plays up this rivalry from Azu & Zolf covering similar roles and its a really close second to the rank thing between him & Hamid in character arcs I'm interested in. I think both are aiming towards a happy ending but no idea how the middle is going to play out. I don't think it's aiming for a "this party isn't big enough for two of us". Alex is encouraging this. This is great just going to get a clip of this rather than attempt to transcribe on first listen. Bryn/Hamid is laying this out so clearly: The knowns, assumed, and questions are being labeled nicely. (I wonder if our little discord helped him refresh his memory so he'd be able to match how much Hamid would remember in character.) Bryn also goes 3rd person? Hope it isn't a stress tell like Alex. Yes Bryn is obsessed and as a listener its is utterly charming when he shows up in RSB or Official and is unabashedly as big a fan of the show as us. Zolf wakes up to Hamid red stringing. Thank goodness he isn't letting security concerns lead him to putting the brakes on. I know there was some concern that if one of them was infected sharing they could pass on anything they talk about. As long as they don't get too specific about classified info, using the time and frankly just having a project to distract them is a good idea. Plus in my mind Hamid always looks so hurt when Zolf pulls on the reigns. Lilliana is not allowed to be the connecting thread. Oh seed is finally being addressed. Aw Hamid handed Cel a glass of water. It really is the little things I love about this show: 1)told you he has a knack for leadership: anticipating the needs of team members even as they diverge from his own 2)He does see Cel as a team member not just someone he worked with, you don't hear him cooing over Carter 3)does it quickly then moves on, because as a gentleman he thinks it's what anyone would do. 4)speaking of, I wonder that Azu & Zolf haven't done rounds. its not like they have anything to save the spells for and the field is only in the cell.

Svalbard! Do not taunt us, does Ben have any idea how much we want to see the science dwarves of the north? Um hmm, vindi-fing-cation. I know it wasn't exactly a huge insight but the mixture of science and various schools of magic is key to my theory on what “Erasing The Line” refers to. Oh Frankenstein in this world is such a concept. Plus it makes Mary Shelley canon. Aw Alex thought we'd never get to this bit of lore. Thank you Blue Veins info being given as whole instead of bits & pieces.  Ooh and Barnes is taking it. Time to get a sense of who he is when he's not swinging a sword. Navel engagement with Blue Veins? Hive mind! Minimize harm? Not dead. Paladins are complicated, maybe a rumor, maybe transfer of allegiance. Cyborg kraken Cyborg Zolf Oh splitting the kraken to make more Barnes just checks out as the conversation goes over his head Called it I told you it was a sensible test. (ETA Zolf’s fart test) (ETA: Re: people with Blue Veins) No lies, no embarrassment, very literal. Other instances? Riots London->Paris->Europe Not safe to go to London If you're in their presence you are highly likely to be infected, mass infections,  not passed by corpses? Memetic effect? Tick tock. Ben and Alex have one of their friendly tussles as Carter decides its a me may Yes he did! And Helen name dropped us! I know I'm just a little part of the brigade but I'm going to to be smug for at least a week that we are so good at what we do one of the actual players looked to us. Hey Lydia is welcome too. Paperwork time! Yeah yeah I knew security was going to be used to undermine Hamid. At least it isn't Zolf and they aren't trying to make him look rash for the whole idea. Getting new info from the paperwork is a bit different than talking about what they already know. Make the place bigger? Nice spell Zolf. If this leads to Animorphs again... Oh I was thinking more like a big horde somewhere you could check stone in & out of a stone plane of existence ties in with elemental lore right? Seriously "Cure Hangover" isn't a spell? Or do Zolf & Azu just not approve of using their magic that way? Intoxicants have to fall under mild poisoning, right? Do the studying later in the week? That's a fair compromise; even if Zolf is still presenting it as an order he is explaining instead of giving his advice or IDK putting it to a vote. I'm not positive but I think Lydia is suggesting they go over their character sheets in character. Alex is not amused. Lydia sounds pleased with herself. Perception check? Azu hears someone knocking something over upstairs. Azu tries to not wake Carter as she listens at the door. It had to be her foot in his mouth. Multiple people in the inn. Carter tries to pick the lock. Azu & Carter start bickering. Carter is perception penalty. The inn is being searched Zolf suggests they wake Wilde up by making a racket. Cel hears the door being unlocked. Voices speaking muffled Japanese. Cel just shouts "Hey what's going on?". Zolf joins in. Azu uses her armor to make noise. Thump of someone hitting the floor! Wilde's voice! Lots of feet? Yes Helen, what if it is the kobolds? Oh god what if Skraak checked on them and found out they were in cages underground? Poor guy would think Wilde is their Shoin. Bryn clarifies Hamid shouts out to Wilde Zolf forbids them leaving the basement Cel shields themself. Azu goes for her armor Barnes is keeping Carter from going for the lock again. Hamid casts Fear (!oh that’s a new one isn't it) I assume #jail is already full of angst criminals connecting Hamid's bully days and him going from S1!Hamid scared of every fight to now casting fear as a way to control his enemies). Also these better be his enemies because I still don't put it past Alex to set us up for a tragic misunderstanding. Dragon roar and dragon face is how he casts fear Ok Rusty Quill LOTR night sounds awesome Zolf helps Azu put on her armor The other feet flee Zolf cries out for Wilde as loud as he physically can but still won't let them risk infecting Japan by leaving quarantine early. Oh if that ain't a fic and a half. A set of small claws! It is a kobold End the episode with the kobolds?  

[bestillmyslashyheart]

Cosmic Agony

Maria groaned and grabbed at Michael’s hip sleepily as he slid from the bed.

“Just stay,” she urged quietly, her voice thick with sleep. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be driving.”

“Early morning,” Michael countered as he brushed a kiss over her temple. “If I stay here I won’t be able to drag myself out of bed to go to work.”

“You should work later shifts,” she told him as she turned over to look at him. His stomach clenched as she looked up at him, some indescribable feeling evident in her eyes. Except it wasn’t indescribable, not to Michael. He knew it well. It was the same look he had every time Alex had left him in the middle of the night. He hated that he was now doing it to Maria.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He tried hard not to think about Alex when he was with Maria. He rarely succeeded, though.

Michael braced himself on the bed and kissed Maria goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was half a statement, half a question. Even after months of this relationship, he was still unsure of where he stood, always afraid of pushing too much.

But she just nodded. Michael gave her another quick kiss and grabbed his shirt from the floor. He called a soft ‘good night’ over his shoulder as he left.

“Michael,” her quiet voice stopped him. “Are you ever going to stay the night?”

He turned around to see her sitting up, the sheet bunched up under her arms.

“Maria-”

She shook her head. “Nevermind. Sorry, forget I said anything.” She shrugged a shoulder. “You work early mornings and the bed in the trailer is too small for the two of us. I get it.”

Michael swallowed and nodded. “I’ll see if I can rearrange my schedule in the future.”

She gave him a soft smile and nodded. Michael turned and left without another word, his chest already aching from the guilt.

He hadn’t lied. Not really.

He did work a lot of early mornings and it was easier to just stay at the Airstream rather than have to get up even earlier to commute. But that didn’t mean Maria couldn’t commute to the bar, if need be. His bunk was small, true, but it could fit two people. It wasn’t as comfortable as Maria’s bed but it was more than sufficient.

He just hadn’t asked her to. And he’d brushed off every one of her subtle asks to join him.

If it was as simple as an issue of a bed, he’d work around it. But that wasn’t it and he knew it. He just couldn’t admit to it.

The headlights lit up the Airstream as he rumbled to a stop next to it. Michael half fell out of the car, his exhaustion finally catching up to him as he got closer to his bed. From there, it was only a few steps to the door and from the door it was only two steps and a full body collapse to hit the bunk.

The second his body hit the mattress, the tension he’d been carrying around all day faded away and he got a punch in the arm for his efforts.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he lay there for a moment. In a second he would sit up and strip off his shirt and jeans and boots so that he could get comfortable but for now he just soaked up the warmth and comfort of his own bed.

The mattress shifted as Alex rolled over to face away from him. Michael stared at his back and tried not to let it hurt. But it did hurt, everything about this hurt.

---

The next morning, Michael rolled out of bed at the ass crack of dawn and left Alex to wake up alone. It tore at him, leaving him sleep rumpled in his bed but it was how they worked. Alex would be long gone by the time Michael came back in for lunch and they’d never say a word about it. Not now, not during the day, and not tonight when Michael went out to the cabin and slipped into bed beside him again.

It was just how it worked.

It was awful and it hurt both of them. But at some point over the last six months or so, they’d somehow gotten to the point where they couldn’t sleep apart. Whenever they tried, one of them inevitably ended up crawling into bed with the other just to get a few minutes of blessed sleep.

They didn’t talk. They never talked. For all intents and purposes they’d been avoiding each other ever since Michael started dating Maria. It was honestly just sleeping.

If they frequently woke up from nightmares and needed the other’s comfort to get back to sleep, that was no one’s business but theirs. If things were said in the dead of night, truths let out that they couldn’t face in the light of day, they ignored it.

They were simultaneously ignoring each other and seeking each other out in their weakest moments. They were helping each other through their trauma and refusing to speak. In the midst of trying to move on, they’d never been closer.  

It was agonizing.

“Guerin!” Michael looked up at the frantic yell. His coworker Bill stood a few feet away, a wary look on his face. “I think that’s about scrap now.” He gestured at the engine Michael was supposed to be fixing. Michael followed his gaze to look at the mangled pile of metal in front of him.

Michael closed his eyes and dropped the tools in his hand as he hung his head. “I’ll fix it.”

“That can’t be fixed,” Bill argued with a slight laugh.

“I said I’ll fix it!” Michael yelled. Bill put his hands up as he stepped back. Michael watched him go before shoving the engine away from him.

This wasn’t the first time he’d lost control at work. He used to be able to let his thoughts wander while he worked but this was the third project he’d screwed up because he was thinking about Alex in as many weeks.

It was as obvious a sign as he could think of that they couldn’t go on like this. Too bad Michael didn’t know how to stop.

---

He wanted to scream. He was so goddamn tired his eyes hurt. It had been three days since he’d gotten more than a few moment’s of sleep and he was aching for it.

Michael looked down at Maria’s head on his chest and wanted more than anything to be able to fall asleep with her in his arm. They had something good going here and he wanted more of it. So what if he hadn’t been honest with her about the whole Alex thing or the alien thing or the nightmares? What did it matter that he only had one person he could be truly honest with and it wasn’t her? He wanted to make it work.  He really did.

He moved her gently until her head was resting on a pillow and slipped out of the bed. This was his third night here and Maria had loved having him, that much was obvious. She knew he wasn’t sleeping well but she seemed to have chalked it up to an unfamiliar bed and not pressed him for answers.

Michael slumped down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands and groaned softly as he rubbed at his eyes. He had been trying to wean off of Alex, first skipping a night every now and then, then trying every other night. It hadn’t worked. No matter how many times they tried or how often they spent the night apart, it didn’t get better. A night without Alex now equaled a night without sleep.

This week had been Michael’s final attempt. He had resolved to avoid Alex for the entire week, thinking eventually sheer exhaustion would win out and he’d be able to sleep.

So far that hadn’t happened. All it had done was make him agitated and a terrible employee. He’d messed up enough jobs at the junkyard that he knew he was on the verge of being fired. On top of that, he couldn’t stay focused enough to help Liz in her lab as she tried to figure out how to bring Max back, nor did he have the patience to deal with Isobel.

He needed sleep. He needed Alex.

Michael looked through the open doorways into the bedroom. The moonlight cut through the window and illuminated the bed and Maria’s sleeping form. He could feel part of him reaching out for her, urging him to go back to bed and try again. But the far larger part of him ached for Alex.

Michael moved through the small apartment silently, gathering his clothes and throwing them on carelessly. He thought about leaving a note but decided against it. He never had before and Maria might suspect something was wrong if he did now.

How he made it all the way to Alex’s cabin, he would never know. He’d driven better on nights when he’d been tossed out of the Pony after being cut off. The closer he got, the more frequently his eyes slipped closed. It was as if his body knew he was going to Alex.

There was a form slumped in a chair on the deck when he pulled up. Michael lumbered up the stairs, his foot catching on a step as he dragged his feet. A bleery eye opened over the top of the blanket as he landed heavily on the landing.

Michael stared at Alex for a long moment, taking in the bloodshot eyes and lethargic movements as Alex tried to shove off his blanket.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was rough from lack of sleep.

“Trying to sleep,” Alex answered. “I’ve been trying out different places to see if it worked.”

“Did it?”

Alex scoffed as he reached for his crutches. “No. Neither did the entire bottle of whiskey I drank last night.” He hauled himself to a standing position and stepped carefully over the crumpled blanket. “Bring that in, yeah?”

Michael nodded and watched with a careful eye as Alex stumbled through the front door and down the short hallway to the bedroom. He locked the door behind him and draped the blanket over the back of the couch before following Alex. When he got to the bedroom, Alex was already in bed with the blankets turned down on the opposite side. Michael quickly shed his clothing before taking the invitation and sliding in next to him.

Sleep took them both instantly.

---

It was dark when he woke up. And he was still tired.

Michael groaned when he realized that it hadn’t worked. Not even Alex could get him to sleep anymore. There was an electronic chirping. Michael tried to ignore it but when it continued, he realized it had woken him up. That and the voices coming from the living room.

“I don’t know where he is.” That was Alex.

“He just disappeared. In the middle of the night, Alex! And no one knows where he is and he’s not answering his phone.” Michael squeezed his eyes shut as he recognized Maria’s voice.

“Maria, I haven’t talked to Guerin in months. I don’t know what you want me to say.” Alex’s voice was bitter and tore at something in Michael. He hadn’t considered the damage he’d do to Alex’s relationship with Maria but it was bad. The two of them barely spoke now, and it was hard for both when they did.

“Alex,” and what the fuck was Isobel doing here, “we’re just worried.”

“I understand that,” Alex answered calmly, “but I can’t help you.”

“You’re not worried about him?” Maria almost sounded frantic. “It’s been two days!”

Michael’s eyes shot open. Two days?! He looked around for his phone but didn’t see it. The chirp came again and he looked in its direction, recognizing it now as the low battery warning on his phone.

He missed what was being said in the living room as he almost fell out of bed in his haste to grab his jeans and pull out his phone. He had 14 missed calls and a lot more messages.

It was also 7:49 PM. The next day. He’d slept for almost 40 hours.

Fuck.

Michael looked up when the door opened. Alex didn’t look at him as he came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Where’s my truck?”

“You parked it behind the shed.” That would explain it. He usually parked back there so as not to block the driveway. And tucked away behind the shed, it was impossible to see unless you walked around the small building. Isobel and Maria wouldn’t be able to see it from the driveway or the front door. But- “I don’t remember doing that.” He’d definitely parked in the driveway because he remembered seeing Alex sitting on the porch from his car.

Michael looked up as Alex turned to him with a slightly amused look on his face. “Kyle came by this morning and you moved it so he could park next to the house.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “I did?”

Alex nodded. “Then you came back inside and passed out again.”

Michael leaned back against the wall and let his head thump against it. “Did you sleep?”

Alex nodded, still eyeing him carefully. “I got about a full 24 hours. Missed work yesterday but I woke up this morning. I tried to get you up when Bill called but you wouldn’t budge.”

Michael groaned. This was probably the last straw. No way would he get a pass on missing two days of work without a word.

“Maria and Isobel were here.” It wasn’t a question. Except it was.

“They were looking for you. People get worried when you disappear in the middle of the night without a word and don’t answer your phone for two days.”

“They came to you?”

“I think I was their last stop.” Alex slid off the bed and settled carefully on the floor. He scooted carefully to join Michael against the wall. “I didn’t say anything because I assumed you didn’t want Maria to know.”

“I think I have to tell her.”

“Guerin-” Alex cut himself off. Michael waited for him to continue but he didn’t.

“We can’t keep going like this.” Michael’s voice was soft. “I mean that literally.”

“I know.”

“I keep fucking up at work, with Maria and Liz and Isobel. I’m angry all of the time and-”

“I know.” Alex cut him off. “We have to figure out a way to stop this.”

Michael closed his eyes. “What if we don’t?”

He felt Alex turn and stare at him but he didn’t open his eyes.

“You want to keep leaving your girlfriend in the middle of the night to come sleep with me?” Alex asked before his voice turned to ice. “Or would you prefer I move in with you two so you can go between beds at will?”

“No, Alex, fuck no.” Michael protested, turning to him. Alex had his head pressed into the wall as he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes already red. “I just meant- I don’t know. I need to break up with Maria.”

Alex choked. “Don’t do that. You two have a good thing. We’ll figure this out so you can be with her.”

“Clearly it’s not that good of a thing if I can’t even bear to sleep with her in the same bed.”

“Guerin-”

“Alex.” Michael’s voice was hard. “How would you propose we figure this out? We tried giving each other space. We tried just ignoring it. Nothing’s worked.”

“Maybe we need to talk.” Michael looked away. Alex pressed on. “I mean actually talk. Not just spill our miserable secrets in the middle of the night while coming out of a nightmare only to ignore it in the morning.”

It was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Michael’s stomach started to grumble. Alex stood up without a word and went into the kitchen. Michael rose and put on some pants before following. The two worked together in silence to make dinner, stepping around each other in the small kitchen easily until the meal was ready.

“Sometimes I can’t look at you without seeing your father. And Caulfield.” Michael admitted as picked up a fork.

Alex froze across from him. “Every time you come here from Maria’s and I can smell her perfume on you, it breaks me a little bit more. And I don’t know how much more I can take.”

The rest of the meal continued the same. It wasn’t a conversation, not really. They just took turns admitting some hard truths in between bites without once looking at each other.

“If I didn’t know you I would never have met my mother. But then I wouldn’t have had to stand aside and let her die.”

“I can’t stand the sight of your hand. It was hard enough looking at it when it was scarred but now that it’s healed it’s like that moment exists only in my nightmares.”

“I miss Max. And I am so angry at him that I hate myself for it”

“I’ve been having PTSD flashbacks since Caulfield.”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do was leave Earth and go home. But there’s no home to go to.”

“All I’ve ever wanted to do was beat my father. But I don’t know if it’s possible any more. He’s always going to be willing to go farther than I am and so he’ll win.”

None of it was new. These were the things they admitted to each other at night. These were the things that had drawn them together again and again in the first place. Because no one else knew or understood the extent of what they were dealing with and so they had turned to each other.

It wasn’t enough, they both knew that. But maybe acknowledging what was broken with each of them and between them was a place to start.

Michael helped Alex with the dishes in silence and left without a goodbye.

They both knew he’d be back later anyway.

----

Michael held up a hand against the glare of the headlights as Maria pulled into the parking lot. He pushed himself to his feet and wiped his hands on his jeans as she parked and stepped out.

“Michael!” She called, her voice still frantic though tinged with a bit of anger. “Are you okay?”

She hurried over and started scanning him with her eyes, as if she could pick out an injury he may be hiding.

“I’m fine,” he tried to assure her. She searched his eyes for a moment before nodding and shoving at his chest with both hands. It wasn’t hard but he did have to take a step back to keep his balance. Neither one of them moved to fill the space between them.

“Where the hell have you been?” The anger was more prominent in her voice now. “We’ve been worried sick!”

“Yeah I know. I got your messages.”

“Oh so you did have your phone. That’s great. You were just ignoring all of us for fun then, huh?”

Michael shook his head. “No, of course not. I-”

Maria waited for him to finish but he couldn’t form the words. “Why are you waiting here? Why not come to the Pony? Or call?”

Michael shrugged. “Knew you weren’t working so I figured I’d meet you here. Didn’t think I’d beat you, though.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed. “Beat me?”

Michael let out a breath and closed his eyes. “From Alex’s.”

“You saw Alex?” Maria’s voice rose. “When?”

“That’s where I’ve been. Since I left the other night.”

Maria’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she looked away. “You left me in the middle of the night to go to Alex?”

Michael nodded.

“Why?” Her voice shook. “You said you two were long over.”

“We are.” Michael admitted. “But I can’t seem to sleep unless it’s next to him. I’ve tried, Maria, I really have. This week I was up for three straight days without any sleep because I was trying not to go to him. I just physically couldn’t take it anymore.” He swallowed and took a step back as Maria wrapped her arms around herself. “I wasn’t ignoring you the past couple of days I’ve just been asleep. It’s like my body was catching up on all the sleepless nights recently. Alex says I woke up this morning to move my car but I don’t remember. I remember passing out on Tuesday night and then waking up to you and Isobel talking to Alex tonight.”

“He lied to us. We asked him if had seen you and he said he hadn’t heard from you in weeks.”

“He knew I hadn’t told you about the whole sleeping thing. He didn’t want to be the one to do it.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Maria-”

“Tell me.” Maria demanded, her body losing its defensive stance, her hands clenching as her arms fell to her sides. “How much of our relationship has consisted of you leaving me to go to Alex?”

“It’s only ever been sleep, Maria.” Michael told her quietly. “I get these-” he stopped and shook his head, “there are nights when I can’t sleep and he’s the only one who understands why. I just needed someone who I didn’t have to explain it to.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“How long has it been going on? Since he got back into town. Though it didn’t get this bad until about three or four months ago. For some reason it’s gotten to the point where neither one of us can sleep more than a few minutes unless the other one is there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Which part? The sleeping thing or the not sleeping thing or-?”

“Any of it!” Maria exclaimed. “I thought we were building something here. Something real. And now you’re telling me that you’ve kept some pretty big secrets? That there are things in your life that keep you from sleeping and you couldn’t tell me about them?” The anger started to leave Maria, leaving only hurt written on her face. “Why is that you could tell Alex these things, let Alex be the one there for you, but not me? We’re supposed to be in a relationship, Michael! You and me! Not you and Alex, because you told me that you two were done. That there was nothing there anymore.”

Michael shrugged helplessly. “He’s Alex.”

Maria crumpled. “He’s Alex,” she echoed.

“I don’t have an explanation for you, Maria. I don’t know if there is one, to be honest. It’s just- he’s Alex.” Michael tried to find the words to explain their relationship to her, explain why even though he cared about her and enjoyed being with her, it didn’t compare to how he felt about Alex. But how he felt about Alex was very complicated right now and he didn’t think there were words to accurately explain it.

Maria nodded and wiped at her tears. “When you said you two were over you failed to mention you were in love with him.”

“I know.” Michael couldn’t deny it. Loving Alex Manes was just a fact of who he was. “I’m sorry.”

Maria sniffled and nodded again. “Okay. Well, it’s late and you’re probably tired so- guess you’re going back to Alex’s?”

“I wanted this to work, Maria,” Michael told her softly. “I really did.”

“I believe you,” Maria told him. “But it never stood a chance. Not really.” She stepped to the side. “You should go. And maybe find a new bar. At least for a while.”

Michael nodded slowly and gave her a wide berth as he walked towards his car.

Behind him, Maria put a hand to her mouth to smother a sob as she hurried up the stairs to her apartment. The thud of the door closing echoed through the parking lot as Michael started up the truck and pulled out.

---

Michael didn’t bother to knock. Alex had never given him a key but by this point he no longer needed an invitation to come in. He kicked the door shut behind him and dropped the bags in his hand in the kitchen without so much as a ‘hello’ to Alex where he sat on the couch watching a movie.

After stowing the perishables in the fridge he took a quick shower, making sure to scrub thoroughly with Alex’s soap, and got dressed in some of the sweats he’d left behind in the bottom of Alex’s dresser. When he came back out, Alex hadn’t moved.

Michael grabbed the pint of Chocolate Fudge Brownie he’d brought and two spoons and settled on the couch next to him. Wordlessly, Alex untucked the blanket from around himself and draped part of it over Michael as Michael handed him one of the spoons.

They passed the ice cream back and forth silently for a few minutes, Michael trying to figure out the plot of whatever it was that Alex was watching.

“You’re not your dad.” Michael broke the silence. Alex froze next to him before deliberately relaxing and taking another bite of ice cream.  “I know you’re not, I really really do. It’s just that you’re so tied up in the worst things he’s done to me that sometimes I can’t separate you two. I’m getting better, though.” He stabbed at the pint and scooped out another bite. “This helps. He has no place in moments like this.”

They worked their way through the pint steadily.

“You’re better than him, by the way,” Michael started again, casually. “Just because he’s willing to do more terrible things than you are doesn’t mean he’s going to win. You just gotta be smarter. And we both know you are. Use your brain, Alex, not the military. Fight him on your turf, your way, instead of trying to play by his rules. That’s how he wins.”

Alex sank into him, his shoulder pressing into Michael’s chest as he leaned back. “Thank you,” he breathed.

They went back to watching the movie.

“It’s okay to be mad at Max, you know.” Alex offered after a while. “It’s okay to miss him and be mad at him. You don’t have to pick one.”

“He’s dead.” Michael said simply. “It feels wrong to hate on a dead man.”

“He healed your hand when you told him not to. He kept you from getting the answers you’ve been seeking your whole life. He shot at you.” That last part was hissed out in barely controlled anger. Michael was well aware of how Alex felt about Max shooting the vial out of his hand that night. He thumbed his hip gently. “Those are valid reasons to be angry at him. And you never really got a chance to deal with that with him. You never got a chance to have it out so of course you’re still angry. It’s okay. Doesn’t mean you miss him any less.”

Michael closed his eyes against the tears forming and leaning over to press his forehead to Alex’s hair. He didn’t say ‘thank you’. He wasn’t sure if he believed Alex just yet.

They finished off the ice cream soon after and Michael threw it away without getting up. It gave him a thrill to use his powers so casually.

“Ok what is it with this movie?” Michael finally asked.

“It’s a classic,” Alex defended.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Alex just shrugged. “What movie is this?”

“2001: A Space Odyssey.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. Alex didn’t usually go for space movies. He opened his mouth to ask more questions but Alex cut him off.

“Just shut up and watch it. We can watch it again another time so you can see it from the beginning.”

A small smile spread across his lips. “Okay.”

Alex shuffled and pushed at Michael until he moved them into a more comfortable position.

Michael tried to watch, he did. It’s not his fault that the movie made no sense and Alex was warm and heavy on top of him.

They’d watch it again later. He could sleep through it this time.

[galivantingg]

Alpha and Beta

Surprise

Three and a half months had passed, leaving them in mid June. The high schoolers were done, most of them had already finished their exams by now, and they were being sent out regularly to patrol for more rogues who are constantly attacking their pack. Since that first attack in February, there had been three more. Every month. So far the number of wolves attacking has increased by one each time, this last attack having four wolves. All of them died. Not because of Alexander's orders, but because they committed suicide. They had a cyanide capsule in their mouth and would take that if it looked like they were going to get captured. Whoever was ordering these attack was smart, and didn't want to be found out. They also knew who Cal is, and Cal struggled with remembering who these familiar faces belonged to.

Alexander. Cal had been trying not to think about him, but it was hard when they were in meetings together every day, trying to figure out a counterstrike. He was filled with pain every time he saw his ex best friend. He had gotten thinner, his face looked haggard. The others had noticed now too, and Cal heard them whispering about it but Alexander still stood strong, so they said nothing.

Cal hated every part of the new normal.

There were a lot of things Cal hated, a lot. But mostly he hated himself for how he had treated Alex on his birthday. He hated how they didn't talk unless absolutely necessary, how they barely looked at each other. He hated how he could still smell Alex. His friend. His mate. What was he doing? Why was he doing this? It was Alex of all people! Why is he so stubborn about this. What's the worst that could realistically happen? What is it really? Alex would never leave him, not like Henry left Tia, or like the Edwards left Alex. It just wouldn't happen. They had both made a vow that they were family, they were never going to abandon the other, and yet here they were. Barely speaking. Not even friends. Some Alpha and Beta.

No. Cal shook his head. He knew why he was doing this. Alexander and him had very little control in their lives, they would take some power for themselves. They would make their own choice about this, at the very least. Cal would choose his mate in the years to come, when he's in his late twenties and ready to settle down. Alex would probably attach himself to Elizabeth, which still doesn't sit right with Cal, but if she was friends with Daisy it was enough for Cal. Cal wouldn't let anyone tell him who he had to be with. He wasn't going to allow it.

It was the small hours of the night. Iphigenia had a nightmare earlier, and had climbed into bed with Cal. It was the first time Cal had shared a bed with someone since his fight with Alexander. Somehow his thoughts always returned to the other boy. Cal was tired. The mate bond was not taking to him rejecting his mate, and now the ringing in his ears was constant. He was also more sensitive, which made him snap more at others, which was resulting in bad things happening at school. There he was just another kid, he wasn't the Beta. He had no power, and he was finding it harder and harder to remember that.

He was also struggling with holding on to his reasoning behind refusing the mate bond.

What was his reason? His parents? He and Alex have already proven they aren't like their parents, but then again, you never know. Neither him nor Cal have ever run from anything in their life, they stepped up when they were fourteen to lead the pack, and have been running it ever since. There were a lot of problems at first, namely Cal not only needing to take care of his pack members, but also take care of his younger siblings. The twins tried, they really did, but they just couldn't do it. Cal couldn't do it either, not without Alex. He was right, Cal wouldn't be here without him, none of them would.

So what was his excuse? Why was he so against this mate bond? Was it because it would change their relationship? Was it because this didn't happen often and he wasn't sure how the pack would take it? Or was it something that ran much deeper, something tied to Cal's very core of being? It was, and he didn't want to acknowledge it,Ip but he already had. Cal has a deep rooted fear of being rejected, like the countless times he had rejected by the two people who were meant to love him unconditionally his whole life: his parents. Henry and Tia were prime examples that even if it's written it the stars, it doesn't mean it will happen. Nothing is really set in stone, nothing is promised. The only person you can count on, truly count on, is yourself, and Cal knew that deep down inside. Yes he loved a lot of people, especially his family, and he trusted them. But he was never truly disappointed when the promises they make turn out to be empty. He knows that there are other factors, which means he can only really count on himself.

It was a sad way of thinking, but it kept Cal going.

Iphigenia snuffled in her sleep and rolled over, revealing her face. It was angelic, her little mouth open a little, her breaths coming out in small huffs. She was completely knocked out and dreaming peacefully. She was so small, so delicate, and she reminded Cal so much of Alexander. He had been her when she was born, he had been there when their mother died, he had been there throughout every part of raising her. Her first words, her first steps, her first attempt at running. He had been there when she said Cal, then the proceeded to say "Alley," and that's when she won him over completely. It was no secret that Alex's favourite of them all was Nia, he didn't even try to hide it. He even went as far as giving her a nickname no one else would use: Sunny. She had been the easiest to raise, making no complaints at all, rarely crying, and catching on quick.

Looking at her was painful. It reminded Cal of times of laughter, happiness and freedom. Of running through the woods, screaming to the treetops, wing whipping through their hair. Of peanut butter off the knife, microwavable meals, rattle toys. Gently rocking the cradle, singing hushed lullabies, secrets whispered in the middle of the night. Stars and crickets and hot chocolate. Sunbathing and pools and rolling in the grass. So many memories filled Cal's mind, and he didn't notice the tears running hot and fast down his face until one dripped onto Iphigenia's face. Cal wiped it off gently and rose from the bed, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water.

There was something else he was thinking about. What Henry had shown him. He closed his eyes and braced himself on the counter, preparing to see those horrid images again. He saw Maddens, his old Alpha standing in front of a young woman, maybe in her late teens early twenties? She was sitting on the floor looking up at him, fear in her eyes. Maddens himself looked to be very young, maybe in his twenties too. Then the image shifted, this time there was sound. Another woman and an older Maddens were there, this time this woman was strapped to a table with some wires attached to her. She had a crazed look in her eyes, but Maddens standing in the shadows grinning like a maniac. He was holding something in his hands, a small device, and he pressed something on it. Before the image shifted again, he heard her scream bloody murder and a deep laugh rise up. The third and final image was of a completely different woman from the first two, and Maddens looked older, around the age he would be now. He looked a little older than Cal remembered, and this woman looked much younger. She was probably only eighteen herself. Cal could see her mouth moving and strained to hear, as if he were watching it happen right in front of him.

"Mate," the girl gasped. "Mate."

Maddens laughed. "My dear, you will serve a purpose far greater than yourself. Your life will be sacrificed to lengthen mine, and I will use your life to take back what is mine!"

The image cut away, but before it did, Maddens turned his head to look directly at Cal, grinning from ear to ear.

Cal opened his eyes. He was sweating and shaking, and there was a chill rolling down his spine. Had Maddens really seen him? Was that possible? No, it couldn't be. These were Henry's memories, there's no way Maddens could see Cal. He shook his head once, clearing the fog, and marched back to his room and his empty bed. He thought nothing of it until he felt the warmth that had been there from Iphigenia. He had forgotten she was in his bed. He crept down the hall to her room, peeking inside, but she wasn't there either. The bathroom was empty. Then things started slowly falling into place. What Maddens had been doing to those women, what he had done to Henry, and why Henry had let in the first place. His father had found out what Maddens had been doing to his mates, taking their lives to extend his, and Henry moved his family as far away as he could. Henry had been selfless for the first time in his life, and then at the first sense of security, he what? Bailed. Went back to his old ways? Or maybe, maybe that was his coping mechanism?

Whatever it was, it did not forgive Henry for all the pain he caused Cal. It did however, give a reason.

What also clicked in his mind, a little late, was that Maddens had seen Henry. Maddens had seen Henry, and was probably now looking for him. When Cal had seen Henry it had looked like the life had been drained out of him, like Maddens had caught him, but Henry had escaped. Escaped and came here. Right to Cal, where all of his children were, and now one of them was missing. Iphigenia was missing and Cal was just standing there.

In under thirty seconds Cal was dressed and running to the Pack House where Alexander was sleeping, had been since their fight in January. He hastily unlocked and locked the front door, Maddens would not take anyone else, and cured himself for being so stupid. Everything clicked at once. The familiar face of the wolf that had attacked him? An old pack member. The faint but familiar smells left behind at the skirmishes? His old pack. The looming presence of doom that was his former Alpha? Maddens! How could Cal be so stupid. He should have known that whatever the reason for leaving their old pack it would come back to haunt him. He raced up the stairs, and practically busted down the door to Alexander's room. The Alpha shot upright in his bed and was on his feet in seconds.

"Alex, Alex please you need to help me," Cal panted. It took a few seconds, but the words finally registered in Alexander's brain.

"I don't need to do anything," he said coldly. Shit.

"Please!" Cal shouted. He needed to make Alex understand.

"No. Go home, Calchas," he turned back to his bed but Cal wouldn't allow him to do so.

"He took Nia," Cal said lowly. His breath was fully regained, and his voice was strong.

Alexander froze, then whirled around. "This isn't a joke, you don't mess around with people like this."

"I'm not messing around! Maddens," Alexander took a step back, the name ringing alarm bells in his mind. He knew who Maddens is, Cal had only mentioned him once, and it was the most scared he had ever seen Cal. This would be the most scared. "He took her, I was getting water and he took her!" He was shouting now, and he didn't care who heard. Everything made so much more sense now, it was like a fog had lifted. He couldn't tell Alexander how he knew, he just knew. And he knew they were running out of time.

"Are you sure?" Alex only had to ask once. "Go look, I'll wake up the other trackers. We need to find her." Cal nodded, and some of the tension between them melted. It felt like normal, except for the fact that his little sister was missing. He tore out of the room, bounding down the stairs and shoving the door open. He raced towards the woods, trying to pull up the memory of Maddens' scent so he could find them. When that didn't work, he hunted for Iphigenia. Bingo. He shifted, tearing off to the south. He weaved between the trees, panting hard. Cal finally came to a clearing, and in the middle was Maddens alone, holding tight onto his eight year old sister. Cal shifted back, gasping for breath.

"My my," Maddens said cooly, absolutely no emotion on his face. "That didn't take long. See dear," he leaned down and spoke in Nia's ear. "Your big brother does care. Too bad it won't save you." Both of the Edmonds' eyes widened at that, fear taking over their bodies. Cal darted forward, but it was too late. With a grin on his face, Maddens slashed open Iphigenia Edmonds' throat.