#it's a miracle i was able to list ten people without much of a struggle *round of applause for me* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

roundtriptojupiter · 1 year

Text

i just sprinted across campus to escape the rain, and now i want to talk about my experiences as a cane user while i remember how to breathe again.

i started using a cane 4 years ago, at the end of elementary school. i’ve been chronically disabled (likely fibromyalgia, but currently diagnosed with myofascial pain syndrome; it’s an inaccurate diagnosis, but at least it’s something) my entire life—i struggled to sit cross-legged in kindergarten because it hurt too much, and the first accommodation i ever needed was permission to sit in a normal chair during circle time. i was born early, and both of my parents had issues with their legs in their lives; my father as a child learning to walk, and my mother in her teens, until she got knee surgery when she was 19, but neither were the same as what i have.

i’ve always been an indoor person. i’ve never enjoyed sports, but to this day i don’t know if that’s because i genuinely don’t like them, or because i always end up hurt. so my parents always thought i was just lazy and exaggerating and needed to get in shape. the third one always makes me laugh. when i look at myself in the mirror, i can count all of my ribs. i inherited it from my dad; his nickname was ‘rice’ in high school because he was white and skinny. maybe i’ll grow out of it, i don’t know. people tell me i look sick, and it kind of sucks to tell them that they’re right.

the old pastor at the church i grew up in was a professional volleyball player. there was an inter-church volleyball tournament held every year, and monthly volleyball games within the congregation. when i was in elementary school, i loved it. i loved volleyball more than any other sport i’d ever played; for the most part, i didn’t have to run anywhere, and that was what made the difference. and players were swapped around a lot, so i got a lot of breaks, and it seemed like... maybe i had just been lazy. maybe this was my lucky break.

and my parents signed me up for volleyball camp. i don’t remember how old i was—maybe twelve, thirteen? i could do the math, but my brain is too exhausted. it was only a week long. we did drills, we played games; every day i went back to my parents sobbing and exhausted, with burning red marks on my arms, barely able to stand and far worse than any other child there, even the other ‘lazy’ ones. that was the moment everyone in my life finally realized that something was wrong.

thus started a long, frustrating process and the wonders of the canadian healthcare system.

people love to compliment canada’s healthcare. they love to compare it to usamerica’s, they love to stand on their soapbox and say how great it is— i can always tell whether those people are disabled or not. because, yes. there are a lot of pros. but anybody who preaches that it’s wonderful and flawless will get my cane to their shins. because the reality is, the wait lists span years, and even when you live five minutes away from one of the best youth hospitals in the country, maybe even north america, sometimes they’ll put you through hell for three years straight, then give you the wrong diagnosis, throw an attempt at fixing you at the wall that doesn’t work, and then expect you to move on with your life.

i only have two vivid memories of that three-year process while i was still in elementary school: the beginning, and the end. my first major specialist appointment was with a neurologist. he stuck pins in my leg and arm and sent electric shocks through them to evaluate muscle responses. it was one of the worst pains i’ve ever felt. to this day, i can’t sustain a static shock without my leg buckling or my hand seizing up. my mom held my hand, and i was screaming; i still cry when i think about it. the test came back with nothing.

the end was when i finally saw a physiotherapist. at the time, it felt like a miracle; he spoke to me for what seemed like only ten, fifteen minutes, and gave me a diagnosis and a physiotherapy plan. that was in 2021. the physiotherapy turned out to be hell; i only lasted a few months, even doing the most basic of exercises, and my parents grew sour at the idea of driving me to the other end of the city on a regular basis. so that all shattered into nothingness.

but that’s all just an aside: the real point is, the first time i used a cane was on a school trip to a large city, at the end of elementary school. it was going to involve a lot of walking; something i knew by that point would be difficult. and so my mother gave me a gift. an old, simple, dark red, wooden cane. the same one she’d used in her teen years before her surgery, and kept just in case. i genuinely don’t know if it’s good or not; i don’t know if i could afford a better one. i’m still using it. i think buying a new one would make the reality too real—that i will not get a magic fix, like my mother did.

on that trip, my very first time using a cane, with my grade eight class, was the also the first time that anybody made fun of it. while walking through the city in small groups, another boy in my class called me a grandma from across the street. i ran after him and hit him (not hard) with it, and he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the trip.

when i started grade nine, my high school was a twenty-to-thirty minute walk from my house. (another aside, shorter this time: after almost every other form of exercise was slowly nixed out of my life, walking became my everything. it still kills, but it’s better than anything else.) and it was too much. by the time i reached school every day, i was unable to stand for the national anthem. that was when the cane became a regular part of my life; i took it with me every day for support while i walked, and even when i didn’t need it, it made my disability somewhat more visible. the respectful people saw it and realized that there was something wrong with me. the assholes saw it and were assholes.

here’s another thing about me: i used to have a cousin. i have a lot of cousins, actually, but the one in question was almost my twin. we were born in the same week, and shared a birthday every year growing up, and looked nearly identical—when our hair was the same length, that is. he and i were complete opposites in most other respects; i was a quiet, well-behaved (read: neurodivergent) kid, and he was a loud, trouble-making (read: neurodivergent) kid. but we got along. and we went to the same high school, and it always stunned people to find out that we were cousins.

in grade nine one of my cousin’s friends made fun of my cane, in front of him and me. my cousin shoved his own friend against a locker and threatened him because of it. i wasn’t made fun of for my cane at that school for the rest of my time there (unless you count the things that people say when they don’t mean to be mean, but have also never witnessed someone my age with a cane before. i don’t, but they still hurt.)

my cousin’s gone now. he overdosed on xanax and killed himself in october. it’s my fondest memory of him, when he turned on his own friend to defend me. i didn’t see him for two years before he passed because of covid quarantines and precautions. i genuinely don’t remember the last time i did see him.

and here’s one last thing: people think that growing up disabled with a parent that had suffered similarly would make things easier. but it was the opposite. because my mother wasn’t chronically disabled. she had horrible knee problems that were fixed after years of physiotherapy and a major operation. she was also labeled as gifted and diagnosed with something i forget the name of, which means that it takes more effort for her to perform tasks than it does for other people. and all that has done is this:

a more recent story. i’m currently spending a month living in québec on a university campus. initially, i was slotted to be staying in an off-campus apartment; they moved me to a residence building before i arrived because they knew of my disability. my room is on the fourth floor. there is no elevator. i wonder every day if my would-have-been apartment would have had less stairs.

my mother drove me there. when we arrived, she carried my suitcase up the stairs for me, because i was incapable of doing so myself. and when i complained, mostly lightheartedly—“oh, doing these stairs is going to suck all month”—she turned on me and told me that when she had been just a little bit older than me, she’d done a program in québec and lived on the third floor with no elevator, and she’d just had major knee surgery. and she’d been fine.

it was nothing for her. i still remember her exact words, four weeks later. i don’t know if she’ll ever truly take me seriously, because to her, she was disabled too, and she got through it. i’ve yet to find a way to convince her that it’s different. that not everything has a magic cure if you just work through it.

i’m eighteen now. she was nineteen when she had knee surgery. maybe when i turn nineteen, i’ll finally get a new cane. it’ll be symbolic, of something. i don’t know what. hopefully i’ll figure it out.

#jupiter.txt #monty.txt #is this poetry? maybe #disability #disabled #cane user #ableism #suicide mention #okay to reblog

11 notes · View notes

beigehearts · 4 years

Text

The Price of Self Respect

Please refer to my master list for the other chapters! There will be ten parts in total, so only four more after this

PART VI

CW: alcohol consumption, mentions of drugs, murder

1,656 words

____________________________________________

You've gotten to drinking with Uvogin and Shalnark, they somehow provide you a sense of comfort in this weird world you're trapped in. It takes half a bottle of vodka and a few shots until you feel that incessant buzz that ravages your body. The three of you sit around the couch area- playing a game of doubt with just the three of you. Yours and Uvogin's laugh rings loudly through the inn- the owner and son not caring since you guys are the only customers at the moment. Your laughter covers up the cough that Chrollo sounds, trying to get your guy's attention.

When he stands next to the table with cards littered around it, you finally notice him. He examines all of the alcohol paraphernalia and clicks his tongue, "So have you been having fun y/n?" He asks loudly, as if you can't hear him over the sound of your inebriation.

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, having a newfound hatred for him, which is quite a change from before. "Yes."

Shalnark speaks up, "She's a lot of fun Chrollo, I'm glad you brought her here." He looks down at his cards, "And she's really good at cards." He sighs, realizing his chances of winning the game are low.

Chrollo seems to have enough of this conversation, eyeing Uvogin sitting way too close to you. So close that your thighs are touching. "Come on, let's go to bed, you must be tired."

"Actually." You say, "I'm not, so I think I'll finish my game." The alcohol seems to be speaking louder than your voice is.

Without even arguing or protesting, Chrollo grabs you by your bicep, pulling you out of your seat. "It's time for bed." He drags you from the common area with you slurring curses at him. You can hear Uvogin and Shalnark booing him from the other room. Once you reach your room, he slides the door open, and drops you on the tatami mat. You drunkenly groan at the short fall, and crawl towards the futon, pulling the blanket back and trying to maneuver yourself inside of the bed.

"You made friends pretty quickly- especially with the troupe that broke your leg." He taps his foot against the mat, watching you struggle to get under the blankets.

"Yes, they're quite nice, and very informative." Your words blend in with one another and Chrollo strains his ear to discern each word. "I even learned that you're more of a stalker than I thought." Finally you settle into the bed, turning on your side, getting ready to fall asleep.

"Excuse me?" He asks.

"I don't appreciate you trying to seduce me after having kept notes on me for almost two years." You sigh, closing your eyes to go to sleep.

You quickly notice the anger in his voice, he's not able to hide it. "I don't appreciate you hanging all over Uvogin either." He sits down cross legged next to you, "Honestly I don't appreciate you flirting with other men."

You take your chance to get under his skin, "It's easier to connect with people who don't know every detail about you."

"You're upset because I love you?"

You open one eye, looking up at him, "You have a twisted view on love."

You don't remember much of the end of the conversation, falling asleep during what you think was an argument. You rise with the sun, it blinding you in the early morning. Strong arms hold you close, too tightly to even move your hips in his grasp. A dull pain pulses through your head, with an endless sense of nausea to accompany it. The night before was fun- though you're not sure that the hangover is worth it. You tap your hand against Chrollo's and speak lightly, "Let me go, I need to shower." As if clockwork, he lets go and flips on his other side.

Before you go to the shared showers, you stand on the deck outside of your room, admiring the authentic rock garden, the water glistening and wind temporarily relieving your headache.

The shower's are nice, towels, robes, and indoor slippers are provided. You undress, dropping your clothes next to one of the stalls. Stepping into the warm water you let out a sigh of relief, thanking life for this sweet relief.

The door opens and you hear another person repeating the routine you've already performed. When you step out after finishing scrubbing your body, a woman steps out of her stall simultaneously. Her hair is in a short black bob, and has a towel wrapped around her bust, hanging just below her waist. You recognize her, you must have seen her last night. Ah that's right, she came into the common room late in the night, and Shalnark introduced her.

"Hi Shizuku." She nods at you, not bothering to speak.

The both of you stand in front of the lockers, putting on the complimentary robes and slippers.

Before you leave the room she clears her throat, "Would you like medicine for your hangover?" She asks.

You send a smile her way and nod.

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

With a cup of hot tea in your hand, you watch the sunrise from the deck of your room, a slight drizzle misting and blurring your view. You can see the sun peeking through the clouds, providing little light. You don't flinch when Chrollo sits down next to you, grabbing the other cup and pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Good morning y/n." He says with a smile, and the plants a kiss on your cheek as if you didn't fight and he didn't threaten to kill his troupe members and blame it on you last night.

You hum in response and continue gazing out at the rock garden, admiring the koi fish and seeing the steam just past the garden, indicating where the hot springs are. Maybe you should sit in the springs, it might make you feel better.

"Last night, I'm sorry for getting so angry." Chrollo breaks the silence. "But don't ever be so friendly with another man. Ever." His jealousy is practically seeping through his every pore, and you know when he says not to be friendly he means it. You know he's not bluffing about hurting someone for being so kind to you.

"You're ridiculous." His eyebrows are enough to show his intrigue in your statement, "You watch me for so long, noting my every move, until you kidnap me. You seduce me and then get upset when I'm angry after finding out about this." You look his way, "You really expect me to return your affection?"

He doesn't respond to your question- knowing it is rhetorical. You're right. And you don't even know about half the things he's done for you- so imagine how you would react if you found out about that. Not well that's for sure. He takes time to process your words, swirling them around in his head so he can bend them to fit his reality he's made.

Dropping the subject completely he states, "We're leaving in twenty minutes, we have a van to fit all of us. We have a mission nearby, I'm going to need your help."

"Why should I help you?"

He frowns, "I can take your nen ability instead if you wish. "

That shuts you up, standing up and heading to grab something to eat from the continental breakfast before you go anywhere.

Fitting all of you into the van is difficult to say the least. Fitting Uvogin, Nobunaga, and Franklin in is practically a miracle. They are definitely going to have back pain once you get out of the van. Chrollo drives and you sit in the back with Machi and Shizuku. You aren't sure exactly of what you're needed for but you'll do whatever is asked of you in order to keep your nen to yourself.

Two hours of laughter and griping from the large men, you all finally stumble out of the van and onto the pavement. There's a large warehouse, and it reeks of marijuana. It must be a dispensary.

"Y/n you need to draw a key that can fit to any lock. I would have the door broken down but there's no physical way of doing that and it's loud. And it's not digital locking so Shalnark can't get us through it."

On command you conjure a pencil, sketching out a key with a malleable end. It begins materializing and everyone watches as it turns from pencil sketches in the air into a real gold key. Only you can use it since it's built from your nen, so Chrollo leads you to a heavy duty door. You put the key into one of the locks, forcing the key to bend and then harden into the shape of the lock. You repeat this three more times and watch as the troupe goes ahead. When you step into the building Chrollo stops you and points to the van.

"Make sure no one comes out, and if they do, eliminate them." You nod hesitantly, and head back to the van, hopping into the driver's seat. You hear gun shots, screaming, and pleas from inside but you have no choice but to listen to the genocide that's being put into play by the man who kidnapped you and claims to love you.

Thoughts of driving away, escaping, and running off enter your brain, but it's not like it would mean anything. They could find you in a matter of seconds if you did.

You come up with a plan on having Chrollo and the troupe trust you and maybe even willingly give you your freedom. You will just have to reciprocate his love until he thinks you love him. But the problem is that you already have feelings for him, maybe Stockholm syndrome will catch up with you first.

#hunterxhunter #hxh #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #chrollo x reader #yandere

74 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Month of Miracles - Moments of Wonder

Well my plans for this prompt month definitely tanked but that’s okay, I’m still gonna finish this Hallmark AU at least. I’m gonna try not to write a ten paragraph authors note detailing all my struggles with this piece and just say, I hope the intention comes through even with all the life interruptions.

Find the prompt list here!

“Spaghetti?” Rose screeched. “Luka, nobody looks good eating spaghetti. She’ll be uncomfortable. Make something else.”

Luka looked at the ceiling for a moment and prayed for patience. “It’s not like this is a date,” he muttered, going to look through the pantry to see what else he could make. Rose’s pestering was making him nervous, and his hand hovered over several options before he shook himself and picked up a bag of rice. Casserole seemed like such a homely option but—

Not a date , he reminded himself resolutely. He didn’t want to make Marinette uncomfortable. She hadn’t agreed to a date, so it wasn’t one, and he wasn’t going to let Rose’s fantasizing make him treat it like one.

“Casserole?” Rose said doubtfully when he got out the pan.

Luka groaned. “Out, Rose.” He grabbed the kitchen towel hanging on the oven rail and snapped it at her, making her squeak and jump back. She folded her arms with a pout. “Nope. Not gonna work on me,” he told her, flapping her out of the kitchen with the towel like a fly. “Get lost.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Rose wailed as she backed away.

“And stay out,” Luka told her shortly, and turned to go back in the kitchen. He leaned on the counter and sighed. He was a patient guy, and he liked Rose, and okay so she was right that he and Marinette would hit it off, but— enough , already. He was nervous enough about whether she would understand what he wanted to show her tonight, and not really sure why it was important to him anyway.

Maybe it was lingering guilt for disappearing without any real explanation or apology to his fans. Maybe if he could make even one fan understand, he’d feel better.

Orrrr maybe it has nothing to do with your fans and you just want Marinette to understand, Rose’s voice sing-songed in his head, because you liiiiiike her. Luka sighed.

He did like her. He liked her, and he wanted to know her, and the only way he knew of to do that was to invite her to know him. He sighed again, and went back to his dinner preparations.

Marinette knocked on the Couffaines’ door with so many butterflies in her stomach that she wasn’t at all sure she was going to be able to eat. It had been easy to accept the invitation with Luka there in front of her, with his relaxed smile and calm presence, but by the time she got back to her grandmother’s house, her brain had gone into a panicked spiral of overthinking that had her feeling jumpy and on edge. She always put thought into her appearance, but she’d agonized over it tonight, afraid of looking too...date-like. In the end she’d kept her pigtails and kept her makeup light, and worn a slightly oversized cream sweater over red leggings. Easy, seasonally appropriate, not unflattering but not aiming to attract, either.

When the door flew open, Rose’s excited, beaming face did nothing to ease her nerves. As Rose dragged her inside, bouncing a little, Marinette had an unsettling feeling like she had been caught in a trap of some kind, and it didn’t get any better when Rose introduced her to Luka’s sister. Juleka gave her a quick once over and smirked, and Marinette was struck by an urge to flee the premises.

Then Luka was there, taking her elbow gently and somehow getting everyone moving to the table. He wasn’t dressed for a date either, wearing a slightly worn navy pullover with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and jeans that had seen better days. The look he gave her as he escorted her to the dining room said please ignore them, we both know better, and Marinette began to relax a little bit. That’s right. Rose might be scheming but she and Luka had already talked it out, and they knew where they stood. They were friends, and whatever he wanted to show her tonight had nothing to do with...with wooing her, or whatever Rose seemed to think was going on.

Dinner wasn’t fancy, either, and that made her feel better too. She managed to strike up a conversation with Juleka after Luka pointed out that many of the photographs on the walls were Juleka’s work. He turned all of Rose’s attempts to get them started on personal topics into casual conversation, and Marinette honestly could have kissed him just for making everything so... easy.

Not that she would. Not that he wanted her to. Not that she wanted to! Oh no, she was starting again…

Marinette nearly jumped out of her seat when a peppy tune blared out seemingly from nowhere. Luka put a steadying hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile while Rose pulled her phone out of her pocket, frowning.

“Excuse me a second,” Rose said apologetically, “It’s work so I better see what they want.”

Marinette had to blink for a moment. She’d forgotten that normal people didn’t take phone calls during dinner.

“Sabrina, what’s up?” Rose chirped, dabbing at her mouth with her napkin as she held the phone to her ear and slipped out of her chair to walk into the other side of the room—not that it really made a difference since they could all still hear her. “Well, finally, what took so long? So, what’s the big deal?” There was a pause, and Rose frowned. “Come down there? Why are you being so dramatic, Sabrina, can’t you just tell me?”

That got Luka’s attention. He shot Rose an alarmed look, and Rose rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, fine. I’m on my way.” She hung up the phone and came back over to kiss Juleka’s cheek. “I have to go. There’s something up with the costumes for the children’s pageant and Sabrina’s making a big deal about it. I’ll come back after I find out what’s going on.” She grinned at Luka and Marinette. “Have fun without me.” She fluttered her hand and left the table, blowing a kiss to them all as she flounced out of the door.

Luka gaped after her for a moment. No, no, this was no good. Rose’s excited fluttering aside, she and Juleka were supposed to go do their own thing and get so distracted with each other that he could talk to Marinette in peace, but without Rose—Luka glanced at his sister, and saw her smirking at him. Luka tried to convey with nothing but his eyes that if she ruined this for him he’d never forgive her. Juleka just rolled her eyes and went back to eating.

“Children’s pageant?” Marinette was repeating next to him in confusion. “At the library? I thought that was usually a church thing.”

“Oh, it is,” Juleka smirked. “The church has one every year too, and Rose...Rose has a beef with it. Let’s just say they’ve had the same Joseph and Mary for the last three years and Rose doesn’t feel like it represents the proper Christmas spirit.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, blinking. “Huh.”

“Are you finished, Juleka?” Luka asked a little too quickly, standing up. “I can take your plate.”

Juleka gave him a look that said she knew what he was doing, but she got up too. “Yeah. Thanks. It was nice to meet you Marinette.” She went to the stairs, but couldn’t resist a parting “You two have fun,” before she thunked up them.

Luka sighed, and took Juleka’s plate and his own to the kitchen. He nearly bumped into Marinette when he turned around, standing behind him with her own mostly-empty plate. “Oh, sorry,” he said, taking it from her automatically. “I didn’t mean to rush you, if you weren’t done.”

“No, I’m good,” Marinette said, with a nervous little flutter of her hands. “I was done. Can I help you clean up?”

“Nah, Jules can get it later,” he said, opening the cabinet to dump the last of the food in the trash before he put the plate in the sink. “I cooked, so dishes are her job. Let me just put the leftovers in the fridge. Why don’t you come on into the great room while I do that?”

He led her out of the kitchen into the two-story great room, with its huge windows and exposed beams and the large crackling fireplace.

“Wow, this is lovely,” Marinette breathed, looking around.

“I like it,” Luka shrugged with a self-conscious smile. “Great acoustics in here, actually. Just have a seat wherever you’re comfortable and I’ll be right back. Watch your step, we’re...not exactly neat freaks, if you know what I mean.”

“It looks lived in,” Marinette agreed diplomatically. The furniture was all mismatched and...unique. Some of it looked so old and rickety that she wasn’t sure it was safe to sit on, and there were...boxes everywhere. Not really boxes, but old army footlockers, heavy-looking chests, and a dozen other things. They were mostly tucked in the corners of the room, leaving the floor clear for the enormous Christmas tree that took up an entire corner of the huge room.

Marinette made her way to one of the couches as Luka went back to the kitchen. It looked like an antique, with an old brocade fabric that was slightly faded but otherwise in good condition, and sturdy enough. Marinette perched on the end of it, feeling a little awkward. She looked around the room. Despite the size, it was cozy, with a rustic air, much like all the other buildings she’d been in around town, and though she’d been being polite, her statement was accurate. It didn’t look so much cluttered as lived-in, as if this room was used a lot by the entire family. As she looked at the Christmas tree, she had to smile. The decorations were a bit...eccentric. Several of the ornaments on the tree were little bats wearing tiny knitted scarves or carrying miniature instruments that looked like they might have come from a doll collection. Music seemed to feature prominently in the tree, she realized. Many of the figures had instruments, not just the bats (there were spiders, too, she saw with amusement). Some of the ornaments were cheap, clearly mass manufactured things, but others were carefully crafted and looked like they’d come from far away places. Guitars weren’t the only instruments featured, but they did outnumber the others by quite a bit. Luka wasn’t the only musical one in the family, she concluded. His father was Jagged Stone, after all, and boy there was probably a story there, but she’d never dare ask.

Her eyes widened slightly when Luka reappeared with an electric guitar in one hand. Marinette blushed, one hand fluttering up to fuss nervously with her hair. Surely he wasn’t going to play now? For her?

Luka smirked a little at the expression on her face, and winked at her as he set the guitar down in a stand she hadn’t noticed. “In a minute,” he told her, and Marinette wanted to sink into the couch and disappear. Could she act more like a starstruck fan? Luka crossed to a funny looking cabinet that turned out to have a CD player inside. “You know Blue Lightning, right?

“Yes, of course,” Marinette said, blinking. It was one of the singles off his most recent album—his last album, she realized with a pang.

Luka nodded as he put the CD he’d been holding in the player. “This was the demo I pitched to the label when I wrote it.”

He pressed play, and turned the volume up. He walked over to one of the windows and stuck his hands in his pockets as the music began to play.

Marinette’s mouth dropped open. It sounded so...different. Of course a demo would sound different, she’d heard demo tracks before and they didn’t necessarily have full instrumentation or backup vocals, but...the whole feel of the song was different. Peppier, more fluid, less...angry. Still a rock song, but not so...gritty, or harsh, as the version she knew.

Luka kept his eyes down as he switched off the CD player and closed the cabinet, and then went to sit next to Marinette on the couch. Only then did he look up at her.

“The execs said they loved it,” he told her softly, “but it didn’t fit my brand. They didn’t think it would sell. Later, they told me. When I was a bigger star, then I could put out something like that, but not yet.”

“That’s—” a shame, Marinette wanted to say, but instead she twined her fingers together and looked down. “Well, I guess they know what sells, right? It makes sense that you would take their advice.”

“That’s what I thought.” Luka nodded. “So I agreed to change it. And then in post production they ‘tweaked it’ some more, and…” He grimaced. “And then I had to go up on stage and perform it like that, and even though it made sense at the time, I just...hated it. When I complained, they told me I wasn’t bringing in enough sales yet to be such a diva and that if I wanted to make the music I wanted to make, then I needed to work harder.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it,” Marinette sighed. “But you have to make your bones, right? It’s the same with fashion. That’s just...part of the industry.” She glanced at him uncertainly.

“So they told me,” Luka gave her a wry smile.

Marinette looked back at her hands. “Well, if it was making you unhappy, then it’s good that you left,” she said, but she said it without conviction, and she knew that he could hear it.

Luka sighed. “Well. There was more to it than just that.” He got to his feet. “You’ve been to one of my shows, right? I think you said you had.” He picked up the guitar from the stand, and slung the strap across his shoulders.

Marinette nodded. “Mmhmm.” She watched as he rummaged behind one of the chairs, pulled out an amp cord, and plugged it into the guitar.

“Good,” Luka said, sitting down across from her in one of the rickety-looking chairs. Marinette’s hands moved involuntarily before fluttering back into her lap. He lived here; surely he knew the hazards of the furniture. She curled her fingers under and tried not to fidget. He grinned without looking at her as he tuned the guitar.

“It’ll hold,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “I promise nothing around here is as fragile as it looks.”

“Right,” Marinette said, hunching her shoulders slightly. “Of course.” She didn’t know where to look, and she suddenly felt very stupid. Why was she here again?.

“Just relax,” Luka’s deep voice soothed, and she glanced up, color deepening. He sounded like Luke Stone in that moment, with the smooth, musical tone of his voice. “Just listen. If you don’t understand when I’m done, then...then that’ll be okay. But I’d like to try and show you what I mean. The difference between Luke Stone, and...me.”

He took a breath, blew it out slowly...and played. Marinette’s breath caught. It was just White Christmas, which she’d heard a thousand times over in a hundred different styles. Even so, it was beautiful, embellished with unique touches that face it the same evocative quality that had first drawn her to Luke’s—to Luka’s music.

Apparently he was just warming up, though, because he took another deep breath, and the music segued into a different tune—one she didn’t recognize.

It resonated somewhere deep inside her, touched a well of pain she’d been trying to ignore for months. Not only the music, which by itself was beautiful and seemed to vibrate in her soul—but the artistry. And when she looked at him—

Luka’s eyes were half closed, and his face was serene, with just a slight wrinkle of concentration between his brows. His hands, rough and abused as they were, moved easily and gracefully, with a confidence that Marinette suddenly realized was familiar. She’d had that once, back when she’d been young and inexperienced and thought too highly of herself. Before she’d learned better, and seen how far she still had to go.

She found that she envied Luka in that moment. It must be nice, to be away from all that pressure and just...create for yourself again. Not to be constantly questioning your instincts, because you only had yourself to please anyway.

Her chest suddenly felt tight, and her eyes stung. She swallowed hard and tore her eyes away from him, looking down at her hands. She closed her eyes and put her hand on her heart, determined to listen until the end.

It was so beautiful. Poignant.

She recognized now what he’d been trying to show her with the demo track. She had been too distracted at the time by the other differences, but...there had been so much more feeling in the demo version. Because Luka had loved it, she realized. He’d been excited about that song, and by the time the studio was done with it, that enthusiasm was lost. He played the studio version well, with all the technical skill he possessed, but it lacked the passion of the original. If anything, it sounded angry because Luka was angry when he played it.

That’s part of the process, though. It’s just part of the industry. Editing is important, even if it isn’t fun. Of course you’re tired of a project before it’s finished. You’ve still got to see it through. You don’t just quit or give up on a project because you feel pouty that people told you what was wrong.

It was the truth, so...why did watching Luka, and hearing him play, make it feel like such a lie?

The studio was wrong, she admitted to herself. Even if it was an objectively better song when they were done, even if the sales numbers said they were right...what they lost along the way was so much more precious than perfection.

Luka’s song ended softly, but on a questioning note, without really concluding. He looked up at her, and then came over to sit next to her on the couch, his expression concerned.

She wasn’t sure why until Luka reached out, and wiped away the tear trickling down her face with the rough pad of his thumb. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I’m—” Marinette began, trying to smile, but she couldn’t finish. Her face crumpled and she buried in her hands before she began to cry in earnest.

Luka put the guitar down, and came to sit beside her. His hands curled around her shoulders and tugged her to him. Marinette yielded, letting him pull her close. One arm wrapped around her back and one big hand gently cradled her head, guiding it down to his shoulder, and he held her, swaying gently, while she hid her face in his shirt and wept.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Luka said apologetically, and Marinette shook her head without lifting it. He held her for a long moment, until she finally managed to pull herself together and pull away from him, sitting up and wiping at her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I was enjoying it so much, I can’t believe I just...lost it like that, ugh.”

“It’s okay,” Luka soothed, putting his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed and rubbed it lightly. “Do you feel better?”

“I...think I do, actually,” Marinette gave him a quick smile. “Thank you.” She was still embarrassed, but she meant it. It felt like a pressure valve had opened somewhere inside of her, and while nothing had really changed, it all felt just a little bit less oppressive. “I think I understand, at least a little. Why you left. But…” Marinette pressed her lips together, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to go on. Luka squeezed her shoulder again lightly, waiting for her to continue.

“I just...was quitting really the only way? Wasn’t it your dream? Wasn’t it worth fighting for?”

Luka swallowed and drew his hand back. He folded his hands together between his knees, looking at the floor, and hoped he could say what he wanted to without sounding like a pretentious drama queen or a weakling.

“What happened between us just now,” Luka began slowly, “Luke Stone could never do that. I didn’t mind the work, or the hours, or even the touring. It’s just, the more we ‘refined’ Luke Stone’s image, the less it felt like me, and it put up this...wall between me and the rest of the world. It wasn’t just the label interfering with my music, it was the image they wanted me to project. The brand. It was harder and harder to be somebody different off-stage, because after a certain point, there’s really no such thing as off-stage. Jagged, you know, he can turn it on and off like that.” He snapped his fingers. “He tried to help me, he really did, but...I just...wasn’t connecting with people the way I needed to, for the music to really flow. I felt so alone, and unhappy, and I was still making music but it wasn’t mine, anymore. It was just something I did to keep the label happy. Finally I decided that clinging to the dream for the sake of the dream wasn’t very smart if it didn’t actually make me happy, and it was more important to be me than to be a star.” Luka glanced up. Marinette was staring at him, her eyes huge in her pale face. He felt himself beginning to blush and dropped his eyes again. “So I told Dad I was done,” he went on quickly. “He was disappointed, but he understood. I finished out my contract and came home to figure out what in the world comes next.”

Marinette was silent for a moment. Luka swallowed nervously, and was trying to think of a graceful way to end the conversation when she finally said, “You’re really brave, Luka.”

He blinked, the words he’d been about to force out dying on his tongue. “What?” he said instead.

“I think it takes a lot of courage to admit that,” Marinette said quietly. “Even to yourself, let alone actually making the break and leaving it all behind. I’m glad you did it. I loved your music, but…” She reached out hesitantly, and slid her hand over Luka’s. He released his clasped hands to turn his fingers up to lace with hers. “I’m glad that you did what was right for you, instead of…”

“Flaming out and becoming an alcoholic drug addict?” he asked with a sardonic grin. Her hand was so small in his, he couldn’t help noticing.

Marinette giggled. “Something like that. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. You really didn’t have to rehash all of that for me.”

Luka shrugged and repeated, “I wanted you to understand.” She had no idea how bad he wanted her to understand. He was grateful and relieved that she did...and at the same time, it was a little frightening. Things might have been simpler if she had scoffed and blown him off. Then he wouldn’t be sitting here, holding her hand and looking into her soft, beautiful eyes, feeling like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

Marinette bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to it. “I should...if it’s okay with you, I think I should go home now.”

Luka shook himself back to reality. “Of course. Are you sure you’re alright? Will you be okay to get home?”

Marinette nodded and tried a smile. It mostly looked steady, so Luka smiled back. He stood up, still holding her hand, and drew her up after him. “Thanks for taking the time to listen to me, Marinette.” Luka let her hand slide out of his. “It actually feels good to be able to explain it to someone.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Marinette told him, and they didn’t say anything more as Luka got her coat and held it for her.

Once she was gone, he barely made it back to a chair before his knees gave way. He rubbed a hand over his face and then leaned into it, sighing. That had been…intense. All of it, not just Marinette, but...playing like that, when he hadn’t played for anyone but his family in so long, and trying to help her understand...he hadn’t realized how much it would take out of him.

He was still sitting there when Rose burst in. “Marinette!” she cried, looking at Luka with wide eyes. “Where is she?”

“She went home,” Luka mumbled, leaning back in the chair.

“What? No, I need her!” Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Why did she leave? What happened?”

“Nothing happened—” Luka began, but a voice from the doorway interrupted him.

“He made her cry,” Juleka smirked.

Rose whirled to look at her, while Luka glared at her over Rose’s head, but Juleka just grinned wider when Rose turned back and began to hit Luka in the arm over and over with her tiny yet surprisingly hard fist. “You idiot! You did not! You made her cry? What’s the matter with you?”

Luka put up his hands in defense. “Rose,” he whined. “Look, I told you this wasn’t a date, and it’s not going to happen—”

“Who cares about your pathetic excuse for a love life?” Rose roared, hitting him faster. “You can’t run her off, I need her! The pageant’s going to be a disaster!”

“Wait, what?” Juleka frowned, coming into the room.

“That’s what Sabrina was calling about!” Rose exclaimed. “The costumes that were in storage—they’re a disaster! Moths or rats or water or all three, I don’t even know. And here I made friends with someone who designs and sews and then like a bonehead I had to set her up with your stupid socially inept—”

“He played for her,” Juleka broke in, and Rose stopped hitting him long enough to look at her. It took a moment for the words to sink in, and then Rose’s eyes widened. She turned back to Luka and he flinched. “You did not!”

“I did,” Luka admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I really did,” he realized, feeling suddenly weak again. He covered his mouth with his hand and tried to pretend like he wasn’t suppressing the urge to scream.

“Tell me everything right now!” Rose demanded, grabbing a fistful of his sweater and dragging him out of his chair and over to the couch. She sat down next to him with a determined expression. Luka looked up at Juleka pleadingly, but she just grinned.

That’s for eating all the cookies, she mouthed, and left before Luka could make a rude gesture.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #lukanette #lukanette endgame #endgame lukanette #hallmark au #marinette dupain-cheng #luka couffaine #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

47 notes · View notes

kamandzak · 3 years

Text

Into the Great Night - Chapter 2

I started writing this book about a year ago and finished it ~7 months ago. Performing a big rewrite and this chapter is so dismally beautiful I can’t keep it to myself.

Context: Andrew Garland’s boyfriend of eight years has passed away and he is struggling

Recommended listening: Compass and Miracle by Two Steps from Hell

It was foolish of me to think it would be any better at Tessa’s house. Merely leaving the place Greg and I had cohabitated didn’t mean our past would leave me; that my grief would leave me.

It was no better sitting on Tessa’s couch as opposed to my own.

It was still lonely. It was still joyless.

It was still too cold.

If that was my new normal…. If that was the life of which I would be forced to live for the rest of my days, I preferred to die.

Tessa was worried. Beth was worried. Sara and Clara were worried. They all had the right to be. Mom and Dad still hadn’t reached out. I couldn’t say I was mad about it.

For the first month I carried the same daily, depressive routine: Wake up, shower, watch videos, eat, shower again, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat. Nothing to disrupt the morose mentality I held from the moment my eyes opened until they closed. Even in my dreams I continued being sad. I couldn’t escape – trapped forever.

Jake’s constant messages of concern did nothing but send me sinking deeper and deeper into hazy nothingness. Peppered with queries about when I planned to emerge onto the gaming scene, along with the occasional ludicrous statement about how he understood my stuffy brain, each message was deleted as it was read. There was no reason to have those hanging around, reminding me why I was in Reno and not where I had once dreamed of making a life for myself.

Whenever I closed my eyes, Greg’s face appeared in the dark. Maybe I was napping; maybe I was finally sleeping fully through the night; maybe I was simply blinking. Always, he was there.

Sometimes it was a fleeting glance of what used to be the best part of my life. Sometimes I dreamed of things that had already happened, or things I wanted to be that would never come to light.

One night, I dreamed we got married. Waking up was almost as painful as watching him die.

Tessa was worried I’d off myself. It wasn’t like we talked about it or anything, of course, but I could hear her and Beth sitting over tea every weekend, hushed mutterings coming from her dining room table or her room or her little porch. My grief had thrown a wrench into the lives of those around me, Beth worrying about my life when she normally would work on lesson plans for her rambunctious class of first graders. When she was feeling brave, Tessa would ask why I kept my secrets down deep for so long. That right there was why.

I had suffered from depression before but what I was feeling wasn’t just unadulterated sadness; it was a fierce, far more complicated set of emotions leading me to exist in a far more dangerous mindset than I had ever been in before. Instead of having an urge to kill the part of me that is making me feel so unbelievably yet nondescriptly sad, I wanted death. Death, full stop.

Mom and Dad and Sara and Clara and Beth and Tessa weren’t good enough reasons to stay alive, and all I wanted was to see Greg just for another minute. I wanted to give up a life with my own flesh and blood just to see him again. I would have given up all the time in the world for one more night of SNL and inside jokes with a man who made me feel like so much more than who I actually was; a unextraordinary nerd with awkward social tendencies and difficulty communicating. With Greg I felt like I was more than just me; without him, I didn’t know who I was anymore.

“Andrew! Your phone!” A crumpled ball of paper bounced off my head as Tessa’s voice cut through my outer shell, the sounds of my phone following her words. My phone beeped loudly, the tell-tale sign of a Facetime call on it’s way, and I dragged my finger across the screen to accept before I read the name. Each bodily movement seemed to take ten times longer than Before. I was living seconds behind reality.

“Garland.”

Jake’s face popped onto my screen. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1….

“Hi.”

“You look like hell.”

Jake’s mouth stopped moving before I even put together the string of letters that made up his blunt statement.

“Mm,” I managed.

“You in Reno?” I nodded. “I’m heading out that way this weekend. Never been to Vegas believe it or not. Figured I’d go explore. Have you seen anyone since everything happened?

“Andrew, want anything from the gas station?” Tessa stood in her door frame and as I shook my head she left without another word.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

“Yeah, no. No, I haven’t seen anyone. I don’t want to see anyone.”

“What if they came to you? So you didn’t have to leave where you are?”

“I’m not about to let a stranger into my sister’s apartment.”

“We’re not technically strangers at this point, right?”

“Why are you so hell-bent on meeting face-to-face?”

Jake paused, inhaling loudly, wheezily, in a way that reminded me of Greg; then again, everything reminded me of Greg whether it had anything to do with him or not.

“The best thing that came out of the worst time in my life is now I can be empathetic to other people going through the same thing.”

The tiniest part of me wanted to know what he’d been through but the larger part didn’t have the brain power to care because what actually mattered didn’t exist anymore. I didn’t think Jake was purposely jabbing at open, festering wounds for the sake of cruelty; he was just caring for me.

I didn’t want his caring. I only wanted one person’s caring and couldn’t get past the knowledge that I'd never have it again.

“Let me know if you want someone to talk to. I’m only in Nevada for a couple of days. I won’t mind stopping. Really.”

“Mm.”

“I gotta go. Message me.”

The screen went black. Please Rate the Quality of your Call, a prompt stated, with the outlines of five stars beneath. I did no such thing.

I wasn’t about to message him, even if I had a reason to do so. I wasn’t going to be messaging anyone because all conversations led back to Greg. How was gaming going? Was I still in Los Angeles? Was I still going to be on YouTube? All questions would eventually wind up being about him and the more I talked, the more I would have to remember. The more I would have to remember, the more I would have to feel, the more I would hurt.

It started happening when I arrived at Tessa’s; my need for answers led me to the internet and introduced me to the term dissociation; I would simply leave my body. Up to the ceiling I seemed to float as if filled with helium, watching what was taking place below. Tessa waking up and making breakfast before going to her gaming room; her video editor Reese chatting with her about her upload schedule; Beth coming and going; myself sitting in the same spot on the same couch day in and day out.

I didn’t know why it was happening, the only reasonable explanation being that I so desperately didn’t want to exist but was too much of a damn coward to kill myself. In the end, dissociation seemed like the best option. Just remove myself painlessly from my surroundings. Was certainly better than the alternative. It was peaceful, exiting the current plane and living somewhere else if only for just a few minutes.

Live. That was the key word. I was still technically alive, my heart still beating and my stomach still digesting and my eyes blinking and lungs expanding with each breath. The human being my brain commanded was still moving. My mind was developed enough to operate on autopilot, doing the dumb things it had to do to keep everything in stasis. I ‘lived’, for lack of a better word.

When I did gather the courage to look up what I was feeling on the internet, nothing made sense. Nothing could be remotely tailored to fit my situation. I could relate to none of it. These people with their inspiring stories and memoirs written in loving memoriam, and benches dedicated to loved ones… their experiences seemed to minimize what kept me awake at night. How were they able to do that? How could those strangers make me and my emotions feel trivial without even knowing me and without me actively posting in detail what was happening in my head? As hard as I tried to imagine those brave widows and widowers and left-behinds feeling the way I did, their stories always wound up being of getting over that tremendous loss.

I didn’t want to get over it. If I got over it I would lose Greg forever. I’d already lost him once.

The grocery lists of things I could do to help myself mocked me as I read the advice of people who claimed to know how to recover from the un-recoverable. Write them a letter, authors would write in silly, curly-cue fonts before giving me a whole page to write the letter, as if I was going to sit down and put pen to paper and tell Greg about something I saw that reminded me of our first date. List all the good times, one said, with bullet points for me to fill out five moments, as if every moment we had together wasn’t the best of my life. Find someone to talk to, another whimsically suggested as it reminded me that keeping my feelings inside was dangerous. As if I didn’t already know it was ripping me apart from the inside.

They didn’t tell me how to start a letter to Greg where all I could do was say how much I missed him. They didn’t tell me how to find someone to talk to when I didn’t want to talk to anyone about anything. They gave me five fucking spots to talk about good times as if our six-year relationship could be reduced down to that many moments and no more.

They said all of it was doable; they said that when the lost their husband or wife or boyfriend or girlfriend or best friend or grandparent or dog or whatever, those were the steps they took to recovering and moving on.

They weren’t me, though. They weren’t me and they weren’t Greg and they weren’t the set of circumstances under which we had lived. Even if half of the equation was there, the other wasn’t. Maybe their loved one was sick. Were they sick with the same ailment, or one that carried similar stigma? Did they purposely risk illness for the sake of their significant other or family member or friend? Did their risk become reality because fate can be an unnecessarily cruel mistress? Did they love the other person so much they shortened their own life?

The door opened and couch shifted as Tessa’s hands landed on the sides of my face.

“Andrew”

I cracked at her voice, her icy hands wrapping around my head and pushing me against her. Worming my arms under hers, I clung to her small shoulders, weeping into her jacket sleeves. Eyes screwed shut I gasped for air, seeing Greg in the darkness as he mirrored the same breathy sounds. While mine were of sadness, his were of death – the only sound of him I could manage to remember despite being together for so long. Tessa pulled at my non-resisting body and we sat together, tangled in a heap of coats and scarves and unwashed hair. Much like when we were young – when we didn’t understand what the world was about or why we were with the people we were with – and Tessa would protect me, we sat close, her love drowning out the pulsing drone of fear and hatred and sadness and anger rushing through my mind as it struggled to comprehend the incomprehensible.

For several minutes, we sat in silence.

“Andrew.”

“Mm.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” “And,” she finally pushed me off her body, holding me in front of her. Cold air hit my hot face, adhering the salty wash of tears to my skin, “And you can talk to me about anything you need to. I know you don’t want to. I know you think you’re strong enough. Maybe the only way to become strong is to not be.”

“Where do I s-start?” I hiccupped.

“Let’s get the team together,” she began, rising slowly and pulling me up with her. “Maybe they can help.”

“But-.”

“No one knows you like we do.”

Hours later, beneath the door of Tessa’s bedroom, I heard her. I heard them.

“You guys have to get here as soon as you can. Please.”

“What’s the matter, Tess?”

“I think it’s happening…. I think the numbness is wearing off. He’s starting to feel things again. It’s not that I don’t want to be here when it happens. I just don’t want to not have you guys here with us. I don’t know what do to.”

Greg’s death wasn’t supposed to be affecting my sisters as the sounds of their video call trickled through the under-crack of the door. It wasn’t supposed to be affecting Jake or anyone else but me and the Davis’.

It was a stupid thought and their voices continued, muffled by my sense of inadequacy. Of course it would be affecting other people. It started doing so the moment Tessa posted my video. It started affecting the girls the second I told them I was having an emergency and they needed to come see me. What I hadn’t wanted was exactly what I had dug myself into when I welcomed other people into the hell-circle I was stuck in.

I didn’t want them to come see me. I didn’t want Beth to take time off and Clara to leave Frank and Sara to leave Duncan to come take care of me. I was twenty-four. I should have been able to take care of me.

The front door opened several hours later and I looked up with a faux look of surprise. Out, I sent them telepathically. Please go.

“Why are you here?” Tessa rolled her eyes at my question.

“Boy, don’t pretend like you weren’t listening on my Zoom call with them,” she cracked a smile before reading the room and immediately coming back to our reality. “You know why.”

“We’re just afraid that there’s more to address than just your changing grief,” Beth began and bile began rising in my throat. It was only a matter of time really, before they put two and two together. I guess I had thought it would take a little longer. Her hand landed in the middle of my back, leading me to the same sofa where Tessa and I had broken down together.

“Don’t worry about me,” I began confidently. “I’m just-.”

But then I coughed. I coughed and coughed and the more I tried to regulate my breathing, the harder it was. Choking; gasping.

Hands rubbed my back while others pushed me down and a another lowered a glass of water into my field of vision. Sip, choke, swallow, repeat until I could finally shakily inhale with difficulty.

Looking down at me were four sets of beautiful, worried eyes with which I could barely stand to keep contact.

Clara spoke,

“Stage three.” “What?”

“That’s what you’re in, isn’t it? Frank just… just lost a patient and when I asked him, especially when Tessa told me about all of your shakes and fevers, he said he thinks it's stage three. I think I believe him.”

I was at a complete and utter loss. In my molasses-filled, sloths-paced brain, grief at the loss of Greg drifted beside my own secrets and the suffering of my sisters, bouncing off of one another like oil and water.

“You don’t understand,” I finally said.

“Don’t understand what, exactly,” Tessa asked pointedly, further questions and opinions trapped behind pursed lips. I could practically see them stabbing her mouth, begging to be released.

“Everything!” I exploded. I hadn’t been truly angry yet; up until then anger had taken too much effort. What energy grief didn’t zap from my system the HIV stole for its own selfish purposes. “It’s all connected, isn’t it?” I asked, huffing out laughs like a mad scientist whose madness had taken over the scientist within. “I can’t tell the world about me and Greg because I’m afraid of people finding out I’m not straight. Then I’m with Greg and he’s so afraid of never having love and I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, so then we take a risk and guess what? Protection fails. The risk becomes reality and I get HIV but I can’t talk about the love or the disease because it’s been ingrained in me since I was a child that people who get sick with this illness get it as recompense for their actions. I don’t believe it when I look at Greg but when I stare at myself in the mirror all I can hear is Dad’s voice. I go to clinics occasionally but only outside of town and without people I even sort of know because I’m afraid subscribers who have never seen my fucking face will recognize me and assume I’m going there for a reason I don’t want anyone to know about and guess what? They’re right! I don’t want them to know about going to get HIV treatment because I’m afraid of people finding out I’m not straight.”

“Andrew-.”

“We keep loving each other because hey, once I’m sick, we might as well, right?”

“Andrew-.”

“And then Greg dies. Greg fucking dies and I can’t tell anyone because I don’t have anyone and the only reason I don’t is because I spent the first seventeen years of my life having it ingrained in my mind that if I don't date, marry, and have a family with a beautiful woman, I’m damned to a life of eternal suffering.”

“But we-.”

“I can’t tell the gaming community because then Dad could find out. I can’t tell you guys or Mom because I feel bad that I kept it a secret for so long but I had to keep it a secret so I could stay safe and love the man I loved because I knew he didn’t have all the time in the world. So now I’m one serious infection away from dying because I didn’t do serious enough treatments to start with because I was so afraid of people finding out I’m not straight,” I nearly screamed, throat raw, standing up and spinning around to face my audience. “How the fuck am I supposed to deal with all of this?”

From all four sides, warm sweaters hit my torso as each sister came from a different angle and held on tightly, two of them shaking against me with emotion. Long nails raked through my hair, hands rubbed my back and arm and nape of neck; hair tickled my nose. Cold, dry lips pressed against my forehead.

When I dared to observe who was directly in front of me, Sara had tears running down her slim cheeks.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” I whispered. “All it’s doing is making you sad.”

“I would have been sad when you first told me, Andrew. Nothing keeps human emotion from happening. But you’ve kept it in for so long, and the longer it builds up the more explosive it is when you finally release the valve. If you told me six years ago that you were in love with a boy and were scared, I would have been so proud. I would have supported you in whatever you wanted to do… however you wanted to live your life. If you told me whenever you found out about being sick that you were sick, I would have been devastated. I still am. It’s just… complicated now,” she petered off as the others nodded in agreement.

“I’m not mad at you, in case you think that,” Clara spoke. “I don’t think any of us are. In a way it’s nice to finally know all your dirty laundry so we can be here as a family. I know you have your reasons for doing what you did. We all do. There’s a lot to sort out. A lot to do. A lot of catching up that has to take place.”

“There’s no timeline for this stuff,” Beth began and before I could stop myself, I opened my mouth,

“AIDS, Beth. A. I. D. S.”

“Grief, Andrew. G. R. I. E. F.”

“Awesome,” I mumbled. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Not alone. We need to get you a doctor here,” Tessa said with a sad expression that, for a brief moment, I wanted to smack off of her face. “I haven’t seen you go since we moved. You don’t want to, but we don’t want to lose you.” I wanted to lose me but that was beside the point so I kept the words inside. “I can’t lose you,” she managed and faint sounds of stifled sadness cut through the quiet.

“I know you want to go,” Beth said as Clara and Sara ushered Tessa away from the scene. “Not to the doctor, but to him. You want to go to Greg. Right now what we say won’t change that. Nothing we say will change how you feel. Nothing feels worth living for right now and I know that. When you go through something like this, you can tell other people you really do know what they’re going through. We aren’t worth living for right now and I understand that. There isn’t much we can do, but what we can do is make sure you’re eating and at least taking some medication. There isn’t much more to do right now than sustain yourself. Let us help.”

“Okay.” “You loved him. I understand that,” Beth whispered, wrapping her arms around me. “And you both did what you could with the time you had. Life’s unfair. I don’t know why things happen to people the way they do. I’m sorry.”

“Why wasn’t my best good enough?”

“Oh, Andrew. It was. I promise. There are just some things we can’t control. It’s horrible, isn’t it?”

#writer #writing #novel #novelist #author #kamandzak #into the great night #grief #tw suicide #tw dissociation

1 note · View note

animebw · 4 years

Text

March Comes in Like a Lion: Season 2 Reflection

The first season of March Comes in Like a Lion was already really damn good.

I feel like I need to say that up front so we can get a baseline of what we’re dealing with here. Sangatsu was a masterpiece right from the start. Gripping drama, compelling characters, some of the most intricate relationship writing I’ve ever seen, some of the most striking, emotionally affecting visual storytelling in all of anime, and a heartfelt sincerity that spoke to the best of everything that hope and kindness is capable of. It was a ten-gallon steam-powered shotgun blast right to my heart, speaking to all the real-life values I believe in and presenting them with more alacrity, humanity, despair and joy than I’ve almost ever seen them. You couldn’t ask for an anime more in touch with what I value in anime, nor for a better version of exactly what it was trying to be. Sure, the plot was a little aimless at times, and sure, it was more a series of moments and sensations than a well-structured story at this point, but that only explains why it wouldn’t end up on my list of Top Ten All-Time Greats. Bottom line, season 1 was an incredible show, and if that was all that existed of this story, I’d still be thankful for the experience.

Season 2 is so fucking spectacular that comparing it to season 1 at all almost feels like an insult.

To be clear, that is in no way a knock against the first season. Everything it did so incredibly well is still on display here: fantastic production values, sound design and direction, a complex story that weaves the lives of so many different characters together while giving them all unique, compelling motivations, the ability to whiplash between gut-busting comedy and gut-wrenching drama without breaking a sweat. Sangatsu Season 2 is still the same show it always was, with everything that made it special still intact. But because of the groundwork the first season laid, because of all the slow, patient, rewarding effort put into establishing these characters and their relationships, the second season is able to take this already staggeringly high base line and push it beyond the fucking stratosphere. If the first season was about Rei’s slow awakening to the realization that he has the ability to change his life for the better, then the second season was about what happens when he finally gains the courage to put those changes into effect. It’s more focused and compact overall, with much more of the plot taken up by the overarching throughline of Hina’s struggles and how both she and Rei grow as a result of them. It builds on what’s come before, pushing its characters to take bigger, more breathtaking risks. It’s a funneling of all this show’s many interlocking stories into a single cohesive whole, still branching out and exploring all different facets of these characters’ lives, but more committed than ever to make sure they’re all moving forward together.

And as much as I’m loathe to keep using this one particular metaphor for fear of wearing out its power, it really is the most fitting description I could think of. if season 1 was Rei sinking into the water of his depression and learning how to swim, season 2 is him racing on top of that water at last.

And the result is that a show I already loved dearly is transformed into something akin to a divine miracle.

I cannot overstate just how fucking amazing this season has been. I’ve already spilled countless words over countless hours gushing over it, and I’m sure I still haven’t done its justice. It doesn’t just do everything the first season does better, it invents entirely new languages of quality. It blasts through every obstacle in its way with the force of a blazing comet, topping itself again and again with impossible emotional height after impossible emotional height. Rei gaining the courage to reach out to the people around him and try to repay their kindness. Hina’s refusal to stay silent in the face of impossible social pressure. The stunning portrayal of how bullying takes place and how easy it is for the entire system to cave under the stress. Rei and Hina giving each other the strength to keep trying, holding each others hands as they walk toward the future together. The fantastic reveal of what’s going on with Souya. The themes of changing times, hellos and goodbyes. The unyielding, defiant refusal to give up on humanity’s best, bursting forth in every one of Hina’s impassioned speeches and every one of Rei’s monumental leaps forward. Any one of these achievements alone would be worthy of the highest honors. But together, all contributing to the same soul-resurrecting tale of a lost boy finally taking hold of the world around him and refusing to let go, it erupts with a shockwave majestic enough to make the world’s largest hydrogen bomb bow its head in shame.

And I have loved every last second of it. I have loved every single moment, every single detail, every single frame of this jaw-dropping, impossibly wonderful show. Watching Rei finally take action to forge connections in his life left me screaming in joy. Watching him cry at realizing how genuinely happy he’s become left me a blubbering mess. Watching Hina’s blazing star rise throughout the entirety of this season, pushing the show’s best character to even more staggering heights, was beautiful beyond the capacity of human language to describe. I have laughed more over the course of this season than I’ve laughed at pretty much anything else. I have cried more regularly over the course of this season than with any show prior. I have been stunned, overwhelmed, devastated, utterly broken, then sewn back together and sent soaring into the brilliant light of the morning sun. Every single trail this show chooses to follow is nothing short of incredible. Every single direction it takes its characters, every single way it makes they grow and learn and struggle and triumph and laugh and cry and love and live, puts entire other anime to shame. I love all of these characters. I care about all of their struggles. I’m invested in all ways multifold ways their lives intersect and overlap, all the warmth and comfort they give each other, all the barricades they form together against the darkness threatening to drag them under. There is not a single moment in this entire season- no, strike that. There is not a single moment in this entire show that doesn’t fill me with joy. There is not a single part of Sangatsu no Lion that doesn’t make me believe in the best that people are capable of.

And honestly, I think that makes this show so fucking valuable. We all know the world’s kind of a scary place right now. It’s so easy to look at all the darkness, all the cruel men in charge making all the wrong decisions, all the long-festering systemic issues bursting to the surface, and completely lose hope. It’s so easy to see all these examples of humanity at its worst and conclude there’s nothing left worth fighting for. But Sangatsu no Lion is a full-throated battle cry against the forces of darkness. It’s a kaleidoscopic beacon of hope and kindness, an unbreakable reminder of what humanity’s capable of at its best. It is everything good about us, all our kindness, all our compassion, all our community, all our love, communicated with the rawest, most emotionally resonant visual storytelling possible. At times when I’m feeling crushed by the weight of the world, this is the show that reminds me why it’s still worth fighting for. This is the show that reminds me why everyone still deserves happiness. This is the show that gives me hope that together, we will overcome this long night and see the dawn on the other side. In my season 1 reflection, I described it as the best example of “radical empathy” I’d seen, and that has never been more true than it is now. We need stories like Sangatsu no Lion. We need fiction capable of speaking to our reality with this much heart and soul. We need reminders that no matter how dark things get, we have the capacity to make things right again. And no piece of fiction I’ve seen, anime or otherwise, has responded to that need quite like this one.

Sangatsu no Lion is a masterpiece, but that word doesn’t do it justice. Frankly, I’m not sure any words are good enough to do it justice. Even just after finishing the first season, I knew this was something really special. Then we hit this season’s episode 4, and I knew this was gonna end up in my top ten list. Then we hit episodes 9 and 10, and I realized it was gonna crack my top five. Then we reached the glorious episode 13, and I wondered if it might even get into my top three. And now that it’s all over? Now that I’ve reached the end of all 44 episodes of this utterly remarkable show?

Well, while I’m going to have to roll this question over in my head for a good long time before I’m fully satisfied with my answer, it’s entirely possible that Sangatsu no Lion may end up being my single favorite anime of all time.

No, you didn’t misread that. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Sangatsu no Lion is so fucking good that I might honestly come to love it more than Gintama. This might be the show that finally cracks the Odd Jobs’ stranglehold on my number 1 spot. THAT’S HOW FUCKING GOOD IT IS. Honestly, the one advantage Gintama still has over Sangatsu is that Gintama is pretty much done at this point. Over the course of 367 incredible episodes, it told almost every ounce of the story it wanted to tell, bringing every one of its amazing characters and interconnected stories to the conclusion of a lifetime, with an upcoming film likely set to finish the adaptation off for good. Sangatsu, by contrast, still has so damn far to go. Even after the incredible peaks we’ve reached this season, there’s still so much left to explore. There’s still so many characters with stories left unfinished, so many directions left to go in, so many new avenues and emotional connections left to foster and bring to culmination. Hell, we barely got any of Kyouko this season, and she’s one of the show’s most compelling characters. Not to mention Shimada’s still fighting for his title, and Hina going to school with Rei could lead to all sorts of wonderful developments. These stories are not yet over; there’s still so much more left for them to tell.

But if we’re ever lucky enough that the manga gets a full adaptation that keeps this level of quality all the way through? If we get to see all these stories play out to the end? Then Sangatsu might just have it beat. As much as I love Gintama, there’s an immediacy to just how fucking good this show is that I just can’t look away from. It took Gintama around 60 episodes to get as good as Sangatsu starts. It took Gintama 140 episodes to break the same impossible standard of quality that Sangatsu overtakes by episode fucking twenty-six. If Sangatsu’s given the chance for its story to play out in full, there’s no telling how high it might be able to reach. Shaft could spend the next couple decades doing nothing but adapting Sangatsu and I would consider it the greatest thing they’ve ever done. So I hope you can all join me in praying for a season 3 announcement once their upcoming Assault Lily Bouquet finishes airing. God knows, I could watch this story for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.

But for now, sadly, it’s time to say goodbye.

So thank you, Sangatsu no Lion. Thank you for every incredible step of this life-affirming journey. And I give your second season a score of:

10/10

Sangatsu no Lion, man. What an incredible fucking show. Thank you so much for joining me on one of the most rewarding analyses I’ve ever done for this blog. If you’ve loved reading it as much as I’ve loved writing it, consider asking for an invite to my Discord where you can hang out with me and a bunch of fellow anime fans to chat about the shows I’m watching. And I hope you’ll stick around for the show that will take its place! Although in this case, “show” isn’t quite the word I’m looking for:

Kara no Kyoukai

Proto-Fate Ufo Nasuverse, here I come. See you next time for the start of a new adventure!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #march comes in like a lion #sangatsu no lion #3-gatsu no lion

30 notes · View notes

fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

Text

Get ready to form voltron!

Obligatory warning for a long post ahead: Whilst I know this post may be intimidating to some people. please do not let it put you off from reaching out to me :) “I say vol and you say tron! Vol…..” “Eh.... voltron?” “We’ll work on it.” Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve been able to stay safe and healthy during the pandemic (and that the easing of some restrictions depending on where you are has not negatively affected you). After binge watching legendary defender on netflix I’ve had the undying and uncontrollable urge to do a voltron rp. Now I bet you’re all wondering what I want and if you’re going to get to do some shipping.......we’ll I guess you’re just going to have to read on and find out. I’m looking for literate rper’s only. That means people who write in third person past tense, can give me at the very least one well thought out and fleshed paragraph (as well as be willing to write more when the situation calls for it) and has a decent grasp on their spelling, grammar and punctuation. I will not yell at you for the occasional bout of typonese but one liners, one worders, poorly written responses and lazy writing in general will not keep me around. If I can’t read what you’ve written and you’re not willing to put some effort in or correct it then there’s no point in me sticking around. I also require rper’s who’ve actually watched voltron whether it be legendary defender, defender of the universe or voltron force. If you’re someone whose a stickler for canon accuracy then I’m probably not the rper for you. When I rp in a fandom setting I treat it a bit like a base as in there’s rules to follow but I don’t have to follow them as if I’m reading the show script. To put it simply I value creativity and ideas that allow a different take on the characters and what could’ve happened. I only rp male alien or alien hybrid characters and they’re premade but flexible in how they’re written. I do not have pictures nor do I desire to spend endless hours of time to find a face claim of a creature that isn’t the typical different coloured humanoids you see in voltron. I have descriptions and that’s it. I do not care if your character is made up on the spot or if you prefer to rp as a canon character. Shippers......I’m sorry but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. I do not rp them as mains so if you were looking for some sheith or klance I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said you are free to play as any canon character you desire or an oc as I’m open to oc x oc pairings or oc x canon pairings (you being the canon character) and I do either MxM or FxM pairings. Romance and non fade to black smut will both occur in the rp but it must be slow burn. I do not do fast paced love at first sight as it’s just not something that holds my interest. No sub dom dynamics, switch dynamics only and please no characters whose entire personality is just one emotion or one trait they have. Guys.....please don’t call my aliens furries or whatever. I don’t rp generic spray painted humans and we’re rping in a world full of wacky and crazy aliens that have fur,scales,tails,multiple arms, etc so I find it Incredibly annoying to have a label forced on my character like it’s a bad thing. Alien means something not from earth, if a human was to be born on altea or daibazzal, it’d be considered an alien despite probably being a hundred percent human. If your view and comfort zone is restricted to aliens that look like an altean and nothing else then you needn’t not message me. I’m not going to make you rp with me if this is a dealbreaker so if you don’t heed this warning then you do not be rude after pulling a shocked pikachu. Be mature about it if you realise it’s a deal breaker rather than just blocking or suddenly deciding you no longer want to talk to me and that you’ll just ignore me till I unfriend you. DO NOT COME TO ME SAYING OR ASKING YOU WANNA DO A SHEITH RP/ DO YOU RP AS THESE CANON CHARACTERS! I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer that I do not do canon character mains nor do I do rp’s solely for the purpose of shipping said rp characters. As I’ve said before, if you wanna play a canon character go ahead but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. My oc’s are my mains. You and your characters must be 18+. I’m in my twenties and will not rp with a minor, especially since I have mature and adult themes in my rp’s that I do not want to get into trouble for Rping them with someone whose underaged. Underaged characters are just........a big no for the sole fact that my characters are adults and that i do not feel uncomfortable playing against underaged characters. You must be able to give me one or more responses a day. If it’s been two weeks since the last response and you’ve mysteriously disappeared then I’m not going to stick around for the day you decide to answer me. I do not like having my time wasted for any reason. My time zone is the eastern Australian time zone but I’m available and awake at odd hours so time zones aren’t too big of an issue for me. Remember that I’m looking for a long term partner, someone to carry an rp with for more than just a few days or a week and someone to write multiple stories with. I have tonnes of ideas and head cannons for the rp but I’m open to brainstorming and ideas. We can mix and match ideas till we get something we both like. I want this to be a shared job, don’t expect me to be the one to carry everything just cause I’m the one supplying the idea. Down below I’ve decided to list a couple of ideas that I have: New school defenders: the paladins of voltron have been defending the universe for years. Many stories of their countless victories, battles and struggles are something that every parent who was alive during the war told their children. Once the main three were taken out (haggar, lotor and zarkon) the paladins settled down to teaching the garrisons new generation of cadets. The new change in curriculum was welcome for many as well as a new change in ship style. To make sure that peace could be maintained in every quadrant of every galaxy the paladins of voltron has trained the cadets to fly animal styled space ships like the lions. The animal ship a pilot was assigned depended on their personality, strengths, weaknesses, how well they worked in a team and their style of fighting and piloting skills. The importance of team bonding was something the paladins basically preached. When news of the return of an old foe forces the paladins to return to their jobs as voltrons warriors and they suddenly disappear many write them off as dead or perhaps in distress. None of the superiors are interested to find out..... so who will? Lotor’s reign: It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true. Voltron taken down by lotor, son of the mighty emperor zarkon himself, and the paladins were now working for him without question as his top generals?! When the news had first hit many people had panicked whilst countless others had been slain for daring to believe and protest that it was all just some lie made up by the half galran prince who was now an emperor like his father before him. Princess Allura herself was locked away in an unknown location after refusing the cruel man’s hand in marriage so she is no help for what is now a lost hope. Lotor’s reign had well and truly begun all those years ago and it was holding steady. People had forgotten long ago that even in complete and utter darkness….one can always find a speck of light that burns bright no anger how small. Mirror mirror: For many years people believed the galra were a race of cruel, vicious, animalistic thinking beings whose only goal was to destroy and conquer words. No one would’ve ever believed that it was the peacekeeping alteans that had been working to plot the galaxy’s downfall. Voltron, belonged to the galrans, they’d been the ones who’d built it after all despite letting alfor pilot voltron’s right arm. When the king had been turned down on his idea to share the mighty robotic war machine he simply built his own. Five dragons that formed dracotron were what the alteans used as their voltron and weapon to conquer the galaxies. Emperor zarkon, under the advice of Haggar the witch, was one of the few world leaders who managed to get his people to safety. Ever since watching the great kingdoms that he’d known for almost ten thousand years fall under the alteans greed and obsession for power over peace, he prayed for miracle in whatever form he could get it in. When two young stragglers end up stranded on the galra’s second home world, the cards of fate are laid according to haggar, much to everyone else’s confusion. What could two lost souls possibly do to bring back what was lost to the alteans? Gamora’s guns: The guns of Gamora was a rebel group with the goal of foiling any plans of the altean empress allura. Led by the brave commander Sven and his somewhat neurotic sidekick Slav, the gun’s were spread far across the galaxy in little pockets of altean dominated space to keep tabs on the empires schemes and try their best to counteract them. The new recruits were aliens and humans from far and wide working together hand in hand to try and prevent a reign of terror from truly taking over. When plans for creating a super weapon fall on the ears of a trusted source, the newest batch of recruits are sent to locate, find and bring back the blueprints. Of course, such things are easier said than done. The chosen: Keith.lance.hunk.shiro (or Sven, depends on whether you want this to follow a legendary defender type story arc or one of the older series). Allura. Pidge. These were names that belonged to the universe's greatest heroes. Legends beyond all compare. They were champions of the universe and paladins of the mightiest robotic warrior to have ever been built: voltron. The great robot and the lions that formed it were well over ten thousand years old…..sadly for the paladins, they knew that they wouldn’t live to or beyond the great age their lions and oldest enemies had. The galaxy garrison had worked extra hard on ensuring that the next generation of pilots would be suitable candidates for the possibility of becoming voltron’s future paladins. Each paladin chose a student whom they felt like would be the most suitable to take their place and trained them with the knowledge that they were not the ones who had the final decision as to who flew who…..or even if they’d fly at all. What happens when one student fails and is rejected by not one but all the lions? What becomes of them and what is their place on team voltron? What happens to the rest of the team? Only time will tell, according to coran, such a thing has never happened before…...but what happens if it does? From all walks of life to the universe's greatest heroes: Shouldn’t have to explain this one too much. Forget the show paladins, bring your oc’s or next gens onto the table and let them take the stage! Before we reach the end of the post, here are some important reminders: 1: NO REACHING OUT TO ME ASKING FOR A CANON CHARACTER SHIPPING RP! I DO NOT DOUBLE SO DO NOT ASK! 2: DONT MESSAGE ME IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NOT VERY HUMANOID ALIENS! 3: NO GARY STU’S OR MARY SUES! GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS A PERSONALITY THAT ISN’T JUST ONE EMOTION OR TRAIT ONLY! For those who’ve read this thoroughly thank you and congratulations! If you’re at all interested please send me a request via one of the contacts below that says who you wanna be, which lion or paladin you think you’d most likely to be if you were in voltron, which idea you liked (or one of your own) and the numbers 123 to confirm you’ve read everything. My discord: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187 My telegram: Tiberionwars My hangouts: [email protected] Hope to write some awesome stories! Will accept requests as long as this ad is up.

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #literate #action #au #fandom #original #post apocalyptic #scifi #submission

2 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 5 years

Text

Violet/Violent

Part 1, Hybrid Cultivar: Jonah’s got a Ghidorah head and he’s not afraid to clone it. Or, failing that, whatever stray biological matter his reluctant team of scientists finds inside of it.

Part 2, Violet/Violent: Dr. Shiragami and his fellow scientists are the proud accidental creators of an impossibility: a fusion between a rose, a human, and Godzilla. But Jonah doesn’t want a miracle. He wants a monster.

(KOTM one-shot, part 2 of 3. Stay tuned for part 3... *checks writing to-do list* ...eventually! If you want to read my other fics set in this KOTM ‘verse, click here.)

###

The pet rose/titan/human hybrid of Alan Jonah's gang of variously bribed and blackmailed scientists was growing faster than any of them had ever anticipated.

Her height had been holding steady for the last week, although she was still accruing foliage that spread her out sideways: an ever-spreading tangle of vines and branches. A matted mass of leaves enveloped the majority of her body like crocodilian scales or like great flakey layers of skin. They told themselves it was a mass of leaves, anyway. It was easier to look at her when they thought of the curtain of mass that made up her "hide" as "plant mimicking flesh" rather than as "flesh mutated to resembled plant," but in truth it was, by all measures—genetically, chemically, cellularly—a fusion of both plant and flesh into something entirely unprecedented and entirely new, in the same way that a mix of blue paint and yellow paint was neither "blue imitating yellow" nor "yellow imitating blue" but simply "green."

At most times, she was about seven feet tall, and typically she moved by undulating across the ground on vines and roots with motions like something between a millipede and a beached octopus. Other times, she pulled the thicket of her body in tight, weaving vines together like muscles and branches like bones, reshaping herself into something hunched but clearly bipedal, with stocky legs and a long thick tail and an array of grasping vines like undersized arms; and like that she stood just over ten feet tall. Most rarely, she would pull her vines and branches even tighter together into an even more solid form, stretching her legs long, straightening her back, lifting her head, sacrificing stability for height—until she stood fifteen feet tall, eerily humanoid, tottering like a toddler learning to walk. But a thick, crude, simple approximation of a human, like a golem made of trees rather than clay.

Back when she'd been about the size of a basketball, they'd started testing her for human intelligence—speaking to her, showing her books for children, seeing whether she could be taught to read and write. Within minutes of being shown a thick cardboard picture book meant to teach the alphabet, she'd seized up a marker and began scribbling letters on every surface she could reach—including letters she hadn't yet been shown. They still wondered if she'd observed them in the lab, if she'd perhaps picked them up from the scientists through some sort of as yet unidentified telepathic sense, or if she remembered them.

Dr. Shiragami suspected she remembered. He had no objective proof of this. Just a feeling, an uneasy feeling, that there was something observing them through the hybrid's strange small eyes; something that, although not human, once had been—and could recall that past life. An ex-human staring out at her former peers from the other side of death.

The letter she wrote most often was V.

She'd write it on a wall and stand beneath it, or on the floor and stand before it, as if using its tip to point at herself. Dr. Shiragami wondered what had been the name of the human whom Monster Zero had devoured and whose DNA had been used for their accidental cloning project.

He had nicknamed their rose/titan/human hybrid "Violet"—he thought that perhaps her name had once started with V, and without any idea what it was, the name of a flower seemed fitting. In his accent, when he wasn't careful, it came out as "Bioretto," which was how it caught on with the other scientists working with her; and the name drifted over the days to "Biorante" until her official name in their documentation on here was changed at last to "unknown Godzilla genetic sample" to "Biollante."

Dr. Shiragami thought the name sounded too much like "violent."

A true golem, made of clay, had two letters written on its head that meant "death." Writing a third letter changed the word to "truth" and brought the inanimate figure to life; removing the letter changed it back to "death" and put the figure back to sleep.

He hoped that, unlike a true golem, adding a letter to her name wouldn't change her nature.

###

"Dr. Shiragami, I did not bring you on to work with Monster Zero so that you could play with a walking plant."

"I work in genetics, sir. Genetics with a specialization in botany. You brought me on to gene sequence an alien that doesn't have genes."

"Hm." Jonah was staring through the observation window into the room they'd set up for Biollante. It was little more than a large room with a soft dirt floor and a skylight, with a water pipe she could work herself, a board to write on, and plastic playground equipment for lack of a better idea of what kind of enrichment a titan-plant-human needed. It was apparently insufficient entertainment; she was currently amusing herself by struggling to lift up and tip over a plastic playhouse designed to look like a castle. She'd fit in the play castle just a few weeks ago, but now it came up to her thighs when she was humanoid.

Dr. Shiragami said, "There's nothing I can do with an alien head without DNA in it, but there's—there's plenty I can do with a plant. A remarkable plant that consists of a genetic splice between three unspliceable species. I'm helping in what way I can—"

"Except you're not helping, doctor, are you? Because my objective is not to create novel freaks of nature; it's to get back on track with unleashing something that can combat the biggest extinction level event in this planet's history, i.e., us. So unless this creature you're wasting my time and resources on can do that—" Jonah suddenly fell silent. He watched wordlessly as the miniature titan knocked over a miniature castle. "Can this creature do that, doctor?"

"I'm sorry?"

"How tall is it going to get? Do you know?"

Dr. Shiragami's throat went dry.

"Has it displayed any violent tendencies?" Jonah went on. "Or are we going to have to train them into it?"

"You can't—"

"Can't I? Will you stop me?" Jonah asked. "What have you got, a doctorate? I've got men with guns."

"This is a living creature! Possibly a person—"

"You know how I feel about people."

"—A child. And a completely new form of life on top of that! I won't help you turn her into a monster."

"Fine," Jonah said. "You're welcome to resign at any time. I wish you the best of luck finding another way to fund your daughter's medical treatment."

Shiragami's blood ran cold.

"I'll leave you alone to think it over, shall I?" Jonah nodded to him and walked away.

Shiragami stared through the window at Biollante.

###

Biollante sprayed spores when she was upset, a thin sickly yellow haze of pollen. It made the scientists' and soldiers' eyes burn and throats close up. They now approached Biollante with pollen-filtering masks and goggles.

The facility hadn't been airtight when they made the discovery. Now it was, but not soon enough to prevent the spores from spreading for miles around them in every direction, settling into the sand, nearly invisible.

The desert was blooming. Trees and shrubs and vines shot into the sky, every species in the Rosaceae family they had ever tried to feed Biollante: roses and rowans and hawthorns, apples and almonds and peaches, more and more and more.

Somewhere in the Sahara, such an immediate reversal to desertification might have been a miracle.

If not for the fact that Biollante's spawn consisted of uncontrolled invasive species.

And at any rate—Jonah had not decided to hide his facility in that part of the Sahara.

Over five thousand years ago, the Sahara had been green. In fifteen thousand years, as the Earth's axis tilted, it would become green again. But even a green Sahara was mostly savannah, covered in shrubs and grasses, able to support clusters of trees only near deep water. The Sahara had never been jungles, never been rainforests. And some portions of the desert, even at the Sahara's wettest, remained desert still—such as the sea of sand dunes shared by Egypt and Libya.

Here, deep in the Sahara's heart, its truth, its natural, its healthy, its correct was desert. This was the part of the Sahara where there always had been, always would be, and always should be desert. A forest—a dry jungle of woody shrubby plants—would choke out the native species, destroy the local ecology, disrupt the weather patterns, displace the nomadic people that called the desert home. Everything about this part of the Sahara, from the temperature to the complete lack of precipitation to the nutrients in the loose sand, was unable to support a single one of the trees now growing there, much less so many.

Nevertheless, the forest spitefully flourished.

Like a fungus in a sack of flour, like a tumor in a heart.

And Biollante grew as well.

The scientists, even under Jonah's blackmail, were reluctant to harm her; so it was Jonah's soldiers who had learned via experimentation what could force her to fight. Fire—first only when it was thrust directly into her vines, but soon they trained her to lash out at the mere sight of it. Weedkiller, but only certain kinds—they'd tried so many different ones, seeing how she took each poison. Flashing blue lights. Recordings of the cries of MUTOs. Being presented with the dead head of Ghidorah, the monster that had devoured the things she was made from.

Dr. Shiragami was sure that Biollante must remember her past lives. Remember being Godzilla. Remember being human. Perhaps even remember being a rose—what did they know of the memories of flowers? Shiragami suspected plants remembered far more than humans gave them credit for.

The sight of Ghidorah made her struggle the hardest and roar the loudest. Once she'd been forced into the room with the dead head, she never cooperated with her keepers again. Now, the mere sight of humans was enough to enrage her.

She fought with spores, with choking vines, with cutting thornlike teeth. She fought with screams that they thought might have been an instinctive attempt to use Godzilla's atomic breath. These roars were horrible things, like Godzilla bellowing in rage and a woman wailing in pain and a tree splintering and falling all at once; they suspected she was twisting and snapping branches inside of her own body to make the sounds. She would no longer let anyone close enough to her to check.

Shiragami was only one remaining out of the original scientists that had been working with Biollante. All of the others either had been killed or else left—some in fear for their lives, but most in protest against what they were doing to a creature they knew deserved better. Shiragami now had new coworkers who cared much less. He would have left too—if not for his daughter, and if not for the fact that he thought someone should be working with Biollante who cared about what happened to her.

Even if he knew he wasn't doing anything to help.

They expanded her containment room when they could, but there was only so much they could do so fast when a facility that had been designed to camouflage into sand dunes was still trying to remain hidden now that it was in the center of a desiccated forest that it seemed the whole world was watching. She was too large to relocate without anyone noticing. Jonah ordered her nutrients be cut off—water only—in an attempt to slow her growth; in return, she began killing and devouring any humans that entered her enclosure. When they stopped entering, she burrowed her roots straight through the concrete foundation of the facility and deep down, they suspected perhaps even into the bedrock below.

As she grew so tall her head brushed the fifty foot skylights over her prison, she stopped using her humanoid form; as she kept growing still, she stopped using her bipedal form. Her prison cell was nothing but a mass of tangled vines, filling the room, brushing the walls. Vines—and sometimes teeth, gnashing between leaves and within blooms as she crashed branches through doors and felt her way down the halls.

Inside Jonah's facility, Biollante threatened to push them all out. Outside the unnatural forest, Monarch exploration crews backed by Egyptian and Libyan forces ventured into freakishly tall trees, as did curious or annoyed locals who wanted to know what strange forest had just appeared in the middle of their desert; it wouldn't be long until someone found the hidden facility.

Between Biollante and the investigating humans, Shiragami hoped Jonah was going to be pinched in the middle.

Jonah had what he wanted now that Biollante had been changed from a docile child into a wild animal. Shiragami wondered if Jonah had any idea how to tame her again. Surely he didn't.

For his daughter's sake, Shiragami would stay until the end, whether that end came from Biollante or Monarch; but for his other daughter's sake, he hoped she crushed Jonah beneath her roots when she escaped.

In the past couple of days, the bud of a rose ten feet long had emerged where her head had once been, up near the skylights.

Shiragami was sure it wouldn't be long now until she broke free. As soon as the rose bloomed.

###

(Click here for my masterlist of fics set in this KOTM verse, as well as my AO3 and Ko-fi links. If you enjoyed the fic, I’d appreciate a reblog or comment!)

#biollante #godzilla #kotm #fanfic #my writing

36 notes · View notes

leigh-kelly · 5 years

Text

Elf Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

After her date with Santana, Brittany felt like she had a belly full of gumdrops. The whole night, she kept wondering what the next day was going to be like at work, if Santana was going to be kind of snarky like she usually was, or if she was going to be sweet like she was on their date. She was stressed about that and she also kept thinking about her mom and the Naughty List and what Deidre had said about cheating kids out of the pages in their books. Everything felt a little overwhelming and Brittany wished she had Papa Elf to turn to. He was always so good at helping make sense of things but she knew that he was probably working eighteen hours a day in order to help Santa get ready for Christmas so she couldn’t even call him.

Brittany didn’t have to be at work until the afternoon the next day, so after she walked with Deidre to school, she decided to go to her mom’s job and see for herself what was going on. She figured that her mom probably told those scary guards that she was allowed there, since she was letting her sleep in her house so she didn’t feel afraid when she got to the building. She grinned at the guards as she walked right past and went all the way up to the floor where her mom worked.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Corcoran.” Whitney yelped into the phone on the desk and Brittany winced at the profanity. “You want me to redo these books and get them out three days before Christmas? Do you even know what the lead time looks like on those?”

“The board of directors is livid with you, Pierce. If you want to keep your position, you’ll do it and you’ll be there at the meeting on Christmas Eve.” The woman in the phone told her.

“Christmas Eve?”

“It’s the only time Martinez can fly in from Spain. You really expect me to believe that you have big Christmas plans?”

“No, I don’t. I’ll be there.”

“You’re going to work on Christmas Eve?” Brittany’s eyes widened as Whitney hung up the phone. “But how are we going to go ice skating and make gingerbread houses and wait for Santa?”

“You can do it with Harry and Deidre, I don’t do Christmas.”

“But Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year! You’re supposed to spend it with your family! How are you doing to do that to Deidre and to me? This is our first Christmas together!”

“Are you here for a reason?”

“I’m here because we have an emergency to talk about.”

“An emergency?”

“You’re on Santa’s Naughty List and we need to do something about that. You can’t be mean to kids.”

“How am I mean to kids?” Whitney raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t put all the pages in your book and…Deidre thinks you don’t love her and you just spend all of your time at work.”

“Brittany, the doctor said I’m supposed to be gentle with you, but…Santa is not real.”

“Everyone down here keeps saying that, I don’t know why you all think that. Of course he’s real! I’ll tell you all about his workshop and—“

“I don’t have time for that. Why are you here?”

“I just came to see you…”

“Well you saw me. I have work to do.”

Crestfallen, Brittany left Whitney’s office and figured she’d get to work a little early. Just in case the real Santa came, she felt like she had to much to do. When she got there, Santana was redecorating the tree and Brittany grinned at her, glad she was met by a smile in return. She wanted to talk to her, but Schuester grabbed her by the arm and threw her in the pit with all of the kids. Brittany loved working with them, making them laugh and she had a three year old girl giggling within seconds.

The whole day, the department store was swamped and Brittany barely caught more than a glimpse of Santana. When the store closed, Brittany went into the locker room and there was Santana standing in her bra. Brittany’s throat went dry and she swallowed hard, trying to moisten it. Santana smiled at her and she felt her heart melt.

“Hey.” Santana pulled her shirt over her head. “I barely got to see you today.”

“Yeah, it was busy. Everyone is just all amped up about this fake Santa.”

“That’s Christmas. So, um, I got an audition.”

“You did? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s for this movie they’re filming in the Village, so I wouldn’t even have to leave New York.”

“When is it?” Brittany’s eyes lit up, thinking she would definitely put in a good word with Santa so Santa would get it.

“It’s on Christmas Eve.”

“What’s up with everyone working on Christmas Eve?”

“Brittany.” Santana sighed. “It’s just another day.”

“It’s the most magical day of the year! When I was in the North Pole, all of our work would stop as soon as Santa’s sleigh was loaded and we’d have the biggest party in the world.”

“It’s at ten o’clock in the morning. I’m mostly worried about Schu killing me because I can’t come in until one. I’m not doing anything Christmas Eve anyway, it’s not a big deal.”

“You could spend it with me and Ken and Deidre if you wanted to. My mom is working so…”

“You want me to meet your family?” Santana raised her eyebrow.

“I mean, if you wanted to. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“My parents aren’t exactly…accepting of my life, so I avoid them like the plague.”

“What do you mean?”

“The gay thing, Britt.”

“Why wouldn’t they accept that? It’s who you are.”

“I think you have a lot to learn, Brittany, but I kind of want to let you keep your innocence.”

“Do you want to maybe, um, get some hot chocolate?”

“A date two nights in a row?”

“I..um…” Brittany struggled, wishing Deidre was around to help her out.

“I’m just teasing you, Britt. I’d love to get some hot chocolate with you.”

They walked out of the store and then, much to Brittany’s surprise, Santana took Brittany’s hands. Her hands were so small and soft and Brittany decided she wanted to hold them forever. Maybe she was thinking about things way too soon, but sometimes when you know, you know. Santana was Brittany’s opposite in every way. She could be surly, she didn’t believe in Santa Claus, but Brittany thought that maybe there was a reason she ended up in New York besides getting her mom off the Naughty List.

“You’re so thinky.” Santana laughed.

“I just like being with you.”

“You know, when you came in the other day, I thought you were kind of weird, but it turns out, I really like being around you. I don’t believe in magic, but there’s something kind of magical about you.”

“They thought the opposite in the North Pole. Everyone else was pretty magical and I was just me.”

“Is that really where your from?”

“Well, I guess I’m really from New York, but I promise, I’m not lying.”

“I don’t think you are, as crazy as that sounds.”

“So do you believe in Santa yet?”

“I told you, Britt, it would take a real miracle for me to believe in him.”

“I’m going to make sure he makes that miracle happen, I promise.”

They get to the coffee shop on the corner and Santana insists on buying her coffee and Brittany’s hot chocolate—extra marshmallows, extra whipped cream, extra sprinkles—and they sat down in a corner by the window where they could see all of the Christmas lights outside. Brittany felt so warm and happy and she realized that she never wanted the night to end.

“I realized I never found out. Where are you from?” Brittany asked.

“I’m from some bumblefuck town in Ohio, I got out as soon as I possibly could and have never gone back.”

“Didn’t you have any friends there?”

“My friend Mercedes moved here with me, she was the only one that really mattered there. She already made it big with her music so she doesn’t have to share a shitty apartment with me anymore. I just want to get to that point.”

“I bet you’re really talented. I wish I could see you act.”

“You see me act at work. Do you think I’m really that happy to be around all those kids?”

“You don’t like kids?” Brittany was surprised.

“It’s not that I don’t like kids, it’s just that I’d rather not be around strange kids. They’re always sick and they smell:”

“But you look so cute with the babies. I…never mind.”

“I’ve gotta say, you’re pretty cute with the kids. It’s like you get them.”

“I just like them, I guess.” Brittany shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.”

“I’m just like, trying to figure out what to do with my mom. I obviously don’t know her very well, but I already really love her even though she’s pretty mean. I’m just trying to make her better so she can get off the Naughty List, but she does all this stuff like send out all these books to kids without pages and spends so much time at work that my sister says she wants her dad to run away with her. I don’t know anything about people. How would I change her?”

“I don’t think people change.”

“Really?”

“I know that’s not the answer you want to hear.” Santana covered her face with her hands like she was thinking hard. “Let me give you a better one. Sometimes I think people just need to find something that will change their heart. I wasn’t able to find that for my parents, but maybe you can find it for your mom.”

“I tried singing Christmas songs really loud last night. I mean, I always thought that the best way to spread Christmas cheer was singing loud for all to hear.”

“I don’t think Christmas songs are going to change your mom. I think she just needs something real to happen that makes her realize what she’s missing out on.”

“Hmm. I guess I have to think about what that could be. I bet Deidre could help me.”

“Your sister’s pretty smart.” Santana laughed. “After all, she’s the one that got us to go out on a date.”

“It’s really weird that I’ve only known you for a few days. I feel like I can talk to you about anything.”

“Yeah, it is weird. I’ve never had this good of a first and second date.”

“Are you in a rush to go home?” Brittany asked hopefully.

“You’ve seen where I live, I’m never in a rush to get there.”

“Then let’s go ice skating.”

Brittany was really surprised when Santana agreed to go with her and was even more surprised when she suggested they take the subway. When they got underground, Brittany was amazed by the trains whirring by. She couldn’t help but jump up and down and the giggles that came from Santana when she did that were pretty amazing.

They finally got on a train and Brittany grasped the bar for dear life, her whole body feeling like it was falling with the train as it lurched forward. Santana was clearly a pro, standing perfectly still with only one hand on the bar and the other on the small of Brittany’s back. The announcer kept saying the names of stops and by the time they got off the train, Brittany was mimicking they “stand clear of the closing doors” announcement and laughing.

In the middle of Central Park, Santana led them go a skating rink, even though Brittany was very skeptical as they passed there more people she thought was Santa but were actually imposters. In the North Pole, no one would ever dream of dressing up like Santa, but in New York, it seemed like there was someone on every street corner who did. At the rink, they changed into their skates and Santana held out her hand for Brittany to take while skating, something Brittany always dreamed about when she saw the elves skate like that back home.

“I’m not exactly a professional ice skater.” Santana told Brittany as an explanation for why she wobbled on the feet and held fast to Brittany’s hand.

“That’s okay, in the North Pole, I wasn’t very good either. I can only do a double axle and like…six figure eights in a row.”

“Wait, what? You can really do that. Help me to the side so I don’t fall on my ass while you show me.”

With a grin, Brittany escorted Santana as then skated off to the middle of the rink. Desperately wanting to impress Santana, she did every trick she could possibly think of and when she turned to see Santana’s reaction, she was glad that she was greeted with smiles and claps. She skated back over to her and pressed kisses on both of Santana’s red cheeks, even if she wasn’t sure that wasn’t coming on too strong.

“That was amazing!” Santana tried to move toward Brittany, but then collapsed into the ice with her shaky legs. Brittany was concerned that she was going to be upset, but Santana just laughed dog laughed until Brittany put her back in her feet. “I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed this much.”

“I do have a lot of fun with you. But we probably should get you off this ice before you get really hurt.”

“Yeah, the last thing I need is to show up up my audition with a huge cut across my face.”

“It might make you look cool.”

“I’m cool enough without a big scar.” Santana poked Brittany in the side.

“Can I walk you home again?”

“I would love that.”

#brittana #elf #brittany the elf

31 notes · View notes

seeaddywrite · 5 years

Text

stars, hide your fire: chapter two

i absolutely will not be able to keep up with daily updates, but i’ve got the first 10k of this written & i’m just editing for continuity & nonsense sentences right now. this was almost a 5k chapter, but i thought that was a bit much, so there will probably be another part up tomorrow.

also, to address one of the questions i got: yes, this is on AO3, if you prefer to read in that format.

Chapter Index: 1 || 2

Anxiety is one of the remnants of active duty that Alex can’t shake. His fingers tap a frantic rhythm on his good knee as he watches the group he’s assembled parse through the surveillance footage and the schematics for the weapons, and he catches himself beginning to list all the ways Guerin and the others could blame him for this. He should have found it sooner. He should have pushed harder for information, when Jesse Manes was at his mercy. He should have known his brothers wouldn’t give up this easily just because their father and de facto leader disappeared. Alex should have thought more like a Manes, and less like better man he was trying to become.

He knows that the likelihood of anyone blaming him for those things is next to nothing, logically, but the worry is still there, half-stifled in the back of his mind. It’s especially loud as Guerin snatches the schematics and begins muttering to himself, and even consulting Liz on something that looks like an equation on the lower corner of the scans. Alex keeps his eyes on those two -- it’s easier than looking at Isobel’s ashen, waif-like countenance or the barely-contained fury on Max’s face. The lights keep flickering on and off, and Alex knows that he’s struggling to contain his powers. Alex thinks that’s understandable, but he might be the only one, judging by the sharp looks the others keep sending him.

“Evans, do you mind?” Valenti is finally the one to snap. “We’re all worried! But no one can read without lights, and if we’re still under surveillance, the fireworks show inside might seem a little freaking suspicious!”

Max’s lips tighten, but the lights steady and hold.

Alex lets them have another twenty minutes of trying to search for a way out of the mess in front of them before he clears his throat. Six pairs of eyes bearing various signs of horror and resignation look up at him, and Alex’s heart beats a little faster before he finds the calm, calculating place in the back of his mind that allowed him to survive ten years as an active duty codebreaker while men died all around him.

“Before you all start making plans,” he says calmly, projecting his voice just enough so that everyone in the room can hear him. “Just listen for a minute, okay?” There are a few nods, and after a moment, Alex continues, knowing that in their confusion and fear, they will respond to a voice laden with authority -- just like soldiers in the middle of an op gone tits-up. “Project Shepherd is my father’s pride and joy. It’s a family legacy, and has been for generations. There’s no way he’s given the keys to the kingdom away to random strangers.” Alex glances at Kyle, who nods once, encouraging. “This has to be my brothers. Kyle, Guerin, and I ran into Flint when we went to Caulfield --” The aliens all flinch in tandem at the words. Alex wants to reach out for Michael, seated to his left, to offer some measure of comfort at the bleak reminder, but he doesn’t have that right anymore, even if they are friends. And Michael is already stowing his grief behind a fierce mask, anyway, and wouldn’t appreciate the attempt if it was made. “And I’m pretty confident in guessing that Charlie and Hunter are involved, too.”

There’s a low mutter of discontent from Liz, whose dark eyes are blazing with badly-contained anger. Alex knows how she feels. Max runs a hand down her arm as he watches Alex, waiting for the rest of whatever he has to say, and Rosa leans in closer, looking more confused than anything. There’s still so much about the time before her resurrection that she doesn’t know, despite their best efforts to bring her up to speed.

“I know those guys,” Alex plods forward, refusing to be distracted. “I know how they work, and they’re not going to stop coming for us unless we stop them. And I think the only way we’re going to do that is by getting someone on the inside. Someone who knows how they work -- someone with the training and the skills to make them think that he can help.”

Guerin’s body goes rigid next to Alex, and Liz surges to her feet, but none of it stops Alex from saying: “I’m going to do it. I can get the information we need to bring in the government, or higher-ups in the military, and keep your names out of it. If I’m the one undercover, I control the narrative -- it’s the perfect set-up to make sure they all end up in a military prison, at the very least..”

Chaos erupts in the room around him, and Alex sits back, arms crossed over his chest, and waits.

There’s something grounding about being surrounded by people who all care about each other despite having plenty of reasons not to. Alex has never had a normal family, full of love and bickering and over-protective siblings, but he imagines this is what it would have been like, if he had. Fighting because they don’t want their siblings and loved ones to be hurt, rather than because they do.

Alex has never had that, not really -- his oldest brother, Charlie, had defended him a few times, but in the end, Jesse Manes’ opinion was the only one that ever mattered in their house, and according to him, Alex deserved to hurt. Eventually, Alex had gotten used to the isolation and abuse within his home, and he’d learned at a young age that sharing blood did not mean sharing love. He’d hidden his softest parts behind a sharp tongue and a rough exterior, complete with piercings and a ‘fuck off’ expression that kept even the most determined teachers and their questions at bay. Liz, Maria, and Rosa were the only ones who’d never been fooled, but looking back, Alex can admit that he kept even them at arm’s length. It was necessary, at the time; none of those women were the sort of people who would do nothing if they found out exactly how bad things were for Alex at home, and the last thing he’d wanted was for them to get hurt because of him.

Needless to say, from that perspective, it’s utterly bizarre to be sitting there, listening to Michael’s little, makeshift family fight him on the course of action he’s chosen to take his father down for good. They’re all trying to protect him -- even Max, who’s only been breathing again for two weeks and has barely spoken two words to Alex in all of that time. But even still, he’s volunteered himself for the mission instead, on the grounds that he can defend himself with his powers if necessary, and the fact that it’s not fair to ask Alex to move against his own blood.

It’s insane, of course. Max is a cop, but he’s never been a great one; he’s too straight-and-narrow, aside from the lengths he’s willing to go to in order to protect the people he loves. This is the sort of op that requires planning on the fly and subterfuge, and a flexibility that Max just doesn’t have. Not to mention the fact that there’s no way Max will ever learn enough about computers and hacking in time to be any of use to Project Shepherd, and he doesn’t have the family ties that would get the Manes boys to even consider trusting him, even if they haven’t, by some miracle, seen anything suspicious about him on their surveillance footage.

Despite all of that, Alex can’t help but feel a little warmer at the obvious concern, even if he has no idea how to take it. His feelings about Max Evans and his god complex are complicated even on a good day, and Alex isn’t used to this sort of protective behavior. He knows it’s coming from a good place, though -- the one real conversation he and Max have had was about Michael, and the fact that if Guerin sees Alex as family, Max does too, no matter what their relationship status might be.

So, yes. Alex would be lying if he said that it isn’t oddly nice to have people worrying about him, but eventually, enough is enough.

He’d gone silent as soon as the fighting started; Kyle had warned him that no one was going to like the idea of Alex going undercover with Project Shepherd, and Alex had predicted Michael’s immediate and absolute denial -- but this is his decision. His family, his legacy -- his responsibility. If he’s ever going to feel like it’s safe to be with Michael again, if he’s ever going to feel free of his father and his damned battles, Alex has to do this. There’s no other way out from beneath his shadow, and Alex has spent enough of his life missing the sun.

Alex has to do this, and no one is going to stop him -- no matter how good their intentions.

“It’s gotta be me,” Alex says loudly, adopting a tone of command that he’d learned in the middle of the desert in wartime. It effectively silences the squabbles filling the room, and again, six pairs of eyes turn to him, some incredulous, others resigned -- and one pair of beloved brown orbs full of vehement denial. But Alex sits tall on the couch, meeting each gaze in turn with steely determination, hoping that he looks more confident in his own abilities than he feels. His brothers aren’t stupid, and there’s a good chance they’ll see through his ruse, but he has the best chance of fooling them -- and Alex isn’t willing to risk anyone else. “Come on, guys, you know it has to be me. No one else knows Charlie and Flint like I do, and no one else has the training to be useful to their project.”

Alex doesn’t know how he ended up as a member of this eclectic little family, but it’s happened, and he’d do a thousand horrible things before he let anything happen to any of them. Lying to the family he’d grown up with seems like a small price to pay in order to keep them safe. Michael has always deserved happiness and safety, and while Max and Isobel have their issues, they aren’t anything like the villainous aliens Jesse Manes laments about. And Liz, Rosa, and Kyle -- they deserve better than lives on the run, too, which is what awaits them if Project Shepherd ever finds out about their ties to the aliens.

Alex allows himself a moment to reflect on the way they’d all come together, in the wake of Max’s death, as a way to remind himself of why he’s doing this. It had happened in fits and starts, with plenty of stalling. At the beginning, he’d stayed strictly to the periphery. Most of that had been his own choice; in the wake of Michael’s decision to pursue a relationship with Maria, it had been easier to just keep his distance and try to keep moving forward with his own healing.

It only took a month for Michael’s relationship with Maria to end, though, and Alex found himself as a Max fill-in, bailing the other man out of the drunk tank and hiding the acetone when it looked like Michael might drown in it. It’s not an auspicious start to a friendship, especially considering their history, but after several awkward interludes and false starts, they manage to find even ground. Alex doesn’t think they’ll ever quite manage a completely platonic friendship, but they’ve found something that works for them -- something that someday, they hope can become something more.

Michael isn’t the only one who gets tangled up in Alex’s life in those rough months. After a few weeks of private grief, Liz showed up, wanting access to the Caulfield files to look for intel that could help bring Max back from the dead. She’d mentioned in passing that they needed help making sure that no one would question the cover story for Rosa’s miraculous return, so Alex had been the one to put enough of a digital footprint online so that anyone but an experienced hacker would have to believe she’d been kidnapped, not murdered, ten years past.

And then, somehow, the Ortecho sisters became regular fixtures in his cabin. It seemed like one of them was always there, cooking burned meals in his scarcely-used kitchen or dragging in a television set from Arturo’s basement when they noticed Alex didn’t have one. It hadn’t taken much for Alex to remember how much he’d adored Rosa as a teenager, or why Liz had been one of his closest friends for well over a decade before they drifted apart -- and he couldn’t deny that he’d been grateful to feel less isolated from the town.

From there, it all spiraled into weekly dinners and brainstorming sessions, to sharing his space and his time with these people as they fought back against what seemed like the inevitable. They’d won against it before, and Alex is absolutely certain that they can again. But they need to all be on the same page, first.

“Max can defend himself if he has to,” Michael points out before Alex says anything more, shoving himself forward on the couch to bring his body within touching distance of Alex. It’s the closest they’ve been in months, and Alex hates the way his heartbeat speeds up just from the proximity. “No one in your family knows that he’s an alien, plus he’s a deputy. Your dad wanted Cam’s input from the Sheriff’s office -- I bet your brothers will want what he can tell them, too. It’s a way in.”

Alex tries to decide whether Michael has so much faith in Max that he believes he can pull off an op like this, or if he’s just so sure that Alex can’t that he’s scrambling for any better option. Neither speak positively about Michael’s headspace, and Alex isn’t sure he wants to know the real answer. Michael’s been incredibly protective of his brother since his resurrection, though -- it seems strange that he’s willing to go along with Max’s self-sacrificing offer.

“Are you forgetting we just brought Max from the dead?” Isobel interjects shrilly, before Alex gets the chance to figure out what the hell Michael is thinking. She directs her icy gaze at Michael, and then at Alex, as if he hadn’t just told the entire room that he’s got to be the one to join Project Shepherd. Isobel’s been the quietest since they all arrived, and is pressed into Max’s side in a way that even Liz isn’t, though she’s still sitting close. Alex knows Isobel’s still trying to pull herself together from the realization that her husband was a mass-murdering psychopath for the duration of their marriage, and understands that she has the right to heal in her own way, but he’s getting tired of being the subject of her ire. “Like hell are we sending him straight to a bunch of people who want to cut him open and play mad scientist with his guts!”

“Give me a break, Isobel!” Michael snaps back at his sister. “I’m not trying to get him killed! But he’s got a better chance of defending himself than Alex, if shit gets ugly. I’d go if I could, but I’m on a fucking watchlist -- there’s no way they’ll buy it.”

He sends a look at Max that Alex can’t really see, but the taller man nods once, and rests a hand on Isobel’s shoulder. “Michael’s being smart, Iz,” he says quietly. “We can’t send Alex into Project Shepherd to --”

“I don’t think we should be sending anyone!” Isobel interrupts, and crosses bare arms over her chest. Fire dances in her eyes as she stares around the room at the assemblage, and for once, Alex is reminded of the intimidating teenaged girl from high school who’d had every straight guy at Roswell High panting after her. Lately she’s seemed more like a shadow than that person, and Alex can admit that he’s glad to see her regaining some of herself -- even if it’s the more difficult parts. “This is all stupid. Starting up some kind of super-spy mission is asking for them to figure out our secret if they don’t already know. No one’s made a move on us, yet. There’s still time for us to get out of town; we don’t need to risk anyone for the sake of information. It’s not worth it!”

Isobel has suffered so much loss already that Alex can understand her point of view. There’s a risk to this op, and not just to Alex -- if he fails, there’s a high probability the entire truth will come out. It’s not a big leap from Alex being a traitor to the rest of them being involved, and from there, it’s a pretty easy supposition that Jesse Manes might have been right about who in Roswell might be from another planet. She’s thinking ahead and weighing the consequences against the possible reward -- and to her, it’s not coming out even.

“Do you really want to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, Isobel?” Alex asks softly, ignoring the way that Guerin is practically thrumming with anger in the seat next to him. He’ll deal with him soon -- but first, he needs to get everyone else settled down. Kyle is already in the corner, talking to Liz and Rosa in a low, soothing whisper. It strikes Alex then how lucky he is to have Valenti on his side, especially considering he doesn’t like the plan anymore than they do. He’s trusting Alex to make the right calls, and that means a hell of a lot.

“I know my family. They’re not going to stop coming. Eventually, even if they can’t get video or photos, they’ll come to town and ask the right questions to the right people. They’ll hear about Rosa Ortecho’s magical reappearance after ten years. They’ll hear about Michael’s hand, or the bizarre power outage, or the lawyer who just up and disappeared. Or maybe they’ll stop by the diner, or the hospital and find dad in that coma, and he’ll just give them all the answers when he wakes up.” That particular scenario is terrifying, and Alex pushes forward, refusing to dwell, or feel guilty for telling the bald-faced truth, despite the growing disquiet on his friends’ faces. “There are thousand ways for them to find out the truth, and to hurt you. Running isn’t going to make a difference. They’ll find you, eventually. It’s a delaying tactic, not a solution.”

Alex exhales slowly, gives everyone a moment to process his logic, and finishes: “So I’m going to take them down from the inside, and I’d really like you all to help me -- from a safe distance. If you don’t want to, I understand, but I am doing this. With or without your blessing.”

#my fic #stars hide your fires #multi chapter #malex fic [at least it will be]

9 notes · View notes

rospeaks · 6 years

Text

listen for the breath, the inhale before i speak (that’s where my care lives)

Dalish inquisitor who allied with templars

[title courtesy of @tylerknott ]

The first time Dorian meets Lavellan -- really meets him, once Dorian is no longer struggling with mana exhaustion and Lavellan is no longer throwing himself on the nearest sword he can find just because some templar tells him it's their only path -- he thinks that the elf is keeping it together remarkably well. Apparently, you get a week's worth of sleep and a solid meal into him, and Lavellan's practically chipper, darting here and there all across Skyhold like he doesn't have the shadow of Corypheus hanging over him, looming nearly as large as that stupid sword they'd tossed his way as soon as they'd crossed the fortress's threshold.

Regardless, Dorian had been pretty sure that the Inquisitor was going to slip right past him. After all, there are templars lurking about in nearly every corner of this place, so Dorian feels safe in assuming that mages aren't very high on the man's list of trustworthy individuals. Which honestly didnt give Dorian very high hopes for Lavellan's life expectancy. Maker help him, the South was going to get the man killed, if Haven was any indication of the sacrifices that they were willing to demand of their saviors. It was nearly as bad as Corypheus himself, though that was bad enough.

Just the memory of it, despite it being several days old and a lifetime ago, has Dorian working up to a small rant even as Lavellan makes his way up the stairs after a short conversation with Solas.

All he knows about Lavellan can be fit into a handful of rumors, a thousand different anecdotes, and the urgent whispering of a dying man. Lavellan's the Herald of Andraste. The Inquisitor. He's walked in the Fade and closed the Breach. He's kind as well as powerful, the enticing blend of a generous soul with the eerie green of the Anchor. Everywhere Dorian went in the Hinterlands and he couldn't go ten feet without tripping over some commoner that Lavellan had aided or recruited or saved from certain death.

That and he had to distract Corypheus while the rest of them ran. Dorian remembers looking back only once, with Roderick's arm slung over his shoulder. Haven had been aflame. Corypheus was a tall, hulking shadow amidst the flames, but Lavellan had been so small -- a dark speck in comparison, identifiable only by the Anchor’s green glow. Dorian had been certain that that would be the last he'd see of the man after a handful of moments alone, and with his presumed death, all his hope... gone.

Hearing the Inquisitor’s footsteps coming to a stop behind him -- light, gliding, quick as only an elf’s can be -- seems like some kind of minor miracle, and the utter relief Dorian feels about Lavellan being alive at all, let alone fully capable of traipsing across the entirety of Skyhold for a whole morning, makes the words spill out of Dorian’s mouth like a waterfall. He feels fit to bursting, but every word makes him feel a little less like he’s going to explode with his worries and anxieties. He must keep talking if he has any hope of preventing the Inquisitor of kicking him out on the first day.

It’s rare that one gets the opportunity to make a second first impression, but luckily, Dorian’s father had drilled into him at least some amount of propriety. He makes introductions, but smoothly moves toward business. If Lavellan prefers Templars so strongly as to refuse the help of a Tevinter mage, then at least Dorian will be able to comfort himself with passing on as much knowledge as he has about the Venatori into the hands that can do the most about them. It will be a disappointment, to be sure, but Dorian will make do. He always has.

The resulting conversation is just this side of terrible. Lavellan knows all the worst things about Tevinter and shares all the popular assumptions that every Southerner does. It grates on Dorian’s already ragged nerves, makes him just a smidge more hostile between his usual self-aggrandizing, but amazingly Lavellan seems to appreciate it.

The more honest and passionate Dorian’s responses, the more Lavellan’s truly generous mouth starts to curve into a smile. It’s hard not to notice, even when Lavellan suggests the possibility of Dorian as a spy. While it’s comforting to realize that the Inquisitor isn’t just accepting people without thought, it’s also too difficult to avoid pointing out that he would make an excellent spy. So he doesn’t, and Lavellan’s smile bursts into an unfortunately attractive grin.

The general haziness resulting from fadestepping his way from Redcliffe to the Frostbacks had prevented Dorian from properly appreciating Lavellan from the start. It’s a lot to take in, honestly -- the sweep of pale hair around sun-kissed skin, the thin lines of a tattoo that rest upon his brow like a crown, and oh... eyes that frankly glow in what little light is provided by the little window nearby. It’s a travesty that Dorian missed it the first time around.

“What you did for us at Haven was very brave, you know,” Lavellan points out when the conversation falls into momentary lull.

Dorian’s eyes go a bit round. Brave. Not normally an adjective that one hears applied to any Tevinter. It feels strange in his ears, ringing especially loud when it comes from the person who had literally stood between Dorian and Corypheus a week ago. It’s a word to live up to now, if he can.

Unlike Dorian, Lavellan doesn’t seem to be bothered by the expectation. Considering the people that surround the Inquisitor, bravery is in no short supply. The formal incline to the Inquisitor’s head as he welcomes Dorian into the fold seems very practiced. It makes Dorian wonder how many foolish ventures this man is going to lure him into.

Too many, probably, and Lavellan will probably get himself killed in the process, if Haven was any indication.

“No one will thank me, whatever happens. No one will thank you, either. You know that, yes?”

Dorian has to be sure.

Lavellan’s eyes lower, briefly, his expression solemn. It’s one moment alone, but out of all the ones that have made up this little meeting, it’s the one that makes Dorian truly confident about his decision to join, especially when Lavellan’s gaze comes back up, gaze like embers burning bright against the darkness creeping into Thedas. There’s a fire to Lavellan that puts steel into Dorian’s spine, makes him all the more capable of striding tall and arrogant past his shoulder.

Dorian twists back at the last second and catches the Inquisitor jerking his gaze up from one of Dorian’s best assets. “Oh. And congratulations on that whole leading-the-Inquisition thing, by the way,” he says, tone just a bit teasing.

The Inquisitor’s brow wrinkles just a bit, caught off guard, but he stares after Dorian as he walks away.

All in all, one of the better introductions Dorian could have asked for.

#dorian pavus #dorian x inquisitor #dorian x lavellan #pavellan #dai #dragon age #my dai fic #heavy breathing i cannot belieeeve

43 notes · View notes

writer-or-whatever · 6 years

Text

09.02-09.08: Fics I Read This Week

this is coming two days late. i had it typed up on my computer and i just... forgot to post it? oops. anyway, last week i decided to systemically make my way through the cisco/barry relationship tag on ao3 (though i’m not done) so not only has that significantly lengthened this list but also it’s the first time i’ve read fics from The Flash fandom, even though i’ve religiously followed the tv series since it started in 2014.

Also i am super into Cisco/Barry/Caitlin fics but there are a whole two of them that i could find so if you have any please send them to me, i’m desperate and am going to have to write some of my own to fill the void.

anyway, fics recced below the cut by fandom then by pairing, as always, with fics from the flash fandom at the bottom because there are very very many fics.

Harry Potter Fics:

Draco/Harry:

A Good Boy by bafflinghaze

Due to unforeseen circumstances, Draco’s work goes a little overtime. When Draco returns home, he finds that Harry’s gotten started without him—but only a little, since Harry is such a good boy.

Word Count: 1k

Gilmore Girls Fics:

Paris/Rory:

The Best Of It by dollsome

Paris outs herself and Rory during a televised argument with Michele Bachmann. Peskiest of all is the fact that Paris and Rory aren't actually dating. A documentary crew wants to make Paris And Rory's Modern Stars Hollow Family anyway. Meanwhile, Rory goes slowly and quietly nuts. (And doesn't like Paris like that -- why would you even suggest such a thing?? Not that ... anyone did.)

Word Count: 73k

Notes: One of my all time favorite fics. It’s so good and so well-written and so fantastic and I’m screaming. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry--because you’re laughing so hard.

The Flash Fics:

Cisco/Barry/Caitlin:

((if someone has any more fics than the ones listed below, pls send them to me. i am desperate))

Equipoise by trufflemores

Barry gets sick.

Word Count: 3k

Notes: I love this fic and this ship.

Guardian Doctor by LightningLemonade

Caitlin Snow is more defensive of her boys than even she knew.

Word Count: 366

cw: homophobic language

Barry/Cisco:

escapes, true love, miracles by spocklee

princess bride AU. written (late) for flashvibe week.

Word Count: 22k

Notes: Top ten favs out of any fandom, easily. I mean, my favorite movie as an AU and it does it justice and non-binary!Barry and just yes.

Heartbreak Hotel by RonnieandtheProfessor

Cisco and Barry go undercover to investigate a meta-human that's been only attacking couples that stay in a certain hotel. Barry struggles with the 'pretending' aspect of their mission, as his feelings begin to grow a little too real.

Word Count: 4k

Notes: THIS IS SO GODDAMN GOOD, OKAY!

once i have you, i will never let you, never let you go by coopbastian

Barry and Cisco respond to a meta-alert but one of them gets kidnapped in the process.

Word Count: 3k

Thunderstorms by fezwearingjellybananas

In which Barry does not like thunderstorms, but Cisco is there to support him

Word Count: 300

finding you by craptaincold

“Oh, don’t play dumb, Barold,” Lisa said. “Barry,” Barry said. “Barold,” Lisa said, “A little birdy tells me that you’ve got a crush on him.” Barry was about to take a sip of his coffee, but was pretty glad he didn’t make it yet, because he would’ve choked on it. “Excuse me? I- I don’t, what makes you think that? Did you talk to Iris?” “I didn’t, but I’m sure going to now.” Lisa smirked. “I’m sure she’d have so many embarrassing stories to tell about you.” She paused and rested her chin on her hand. “Plus, she’s pretty cute. Is she single?” “She’s engaged. Don’t even think about it.” Lisa sighed, dropping her grin to a pout. “I have a proposition for you, Barry. Cisco is a sweet boy, and there aren’t too many of those in this world, you know? I’d love to have him for myself, but I hate stepping on any toes,” she said, as if she didn’t rob people for a living, “So, if you don’t step up and tell him how you feel by the end of the month, I’ll be forced to nab him up.” “We’re already dating,” Barry blurted out, mind now a dumpster fire. Oh god, why did he say that? You’d think having superspeed would make him be able to stop himself from saying impulsive things. Word Count: 2k

The Person That You Were (You Cannot Find) by Ecliptic_Fiction

When it's four in the morning When it comes without warning And the Silence drags you down under the tide.

Word Count: 2k

Notes: God, I love this. They’ve got such a beautiful relationship.

cw: self-esteem issues

To Lean On by Ecliptic_Fiction

Tears prick at Barry's eyes at the sight of the man before him, and he can't help but smile at the thought of spending forever with him. "I do," he whispers, squeezing Cisco's hand gently. Word Count: 5k

Where Do You Go (When You Think Of Me?) by Ecliptic_Fiction

Thank God for Francisco Ramon- the saviour of the Flash. Word Count: 3k

...so could we by coopbastian

Cisco is having a hard time on the fact that Leo implied that he and Barry are a couple. Word Count: 1k

What really matters by Saluzozette

It was late at night when Cisco's voice broke the silence in the room. Barry was on the verge of sleep, curled around his boyfriend, his nose buried deep into his hair. Cisco's back was warm against his chest, their fingers glued together and really, the speedster had rarely felt as tired, comfy and happy as he was right now. His mind was already drifting away, but he acknowledged the other man's plea nonetheless. “Barry?” Cisco's voice was alert and very much awake. Far from the comfortable stillness that had filled the bedroom for the last hour. Why wasn't he asleep already? “Hum...” The speedster mumbled, trying to sound a little bit less out of it than he actually was. “I'm gonna do it.” Word Count: 4k cw: graphic descriptions of violence, homophobia, mentions of neglect and abuse

sweet creature, sweet creature by buckybunnyteeth

Cisco wakes up to the quick warm feeling of lips pressing against his own. or Cisco needs Barry to know that he loves him ... without saying that he loves him. Word Count: 3k

It's Not About Winning by st4rlabsforever (omaken)

Cisco wriggles his wrists in his restraints. In the grand scheme of things – or at least as far as kidnappings go – this one isn’t so bad. Sure, the ropes might be chafing his wrists and the blindfold might be messing with his balance, but his discomfort is at a solid three out of ten right now. Just a day in the life of Central City's premier superhero couple. Word Count: 5k

Vows and Promises by daydreamingstoryteller

Barry has made the decision to sacrifice himself to stop the Dominators' attack. But Cisco has some scores to settle with him before he can leave. Or. Another Invasion AU but with Secretly married Flashvibe Word Count: 1k

'Fake' Dates & Not-So-Shitty Acting by twelvexclara

When Caitlin and Julian need someone to go undercover for an event, they ask Barry and Cisco. The thing is, the situation is more complicated than you think. Word Count: 2k

Stars in Hiding by Neuqe

"It is getting rather confusing for all parties involved, and Cisco would prefer if his life did not resemble this much a 90’s situational comedy" Barry and Cisco decide to keep their relationship as a secret. It is not necessarily the best idea. Word Count: 5k

We will find each other by Neuqe

Cisco accidently vibes Earth-2 and learns something new about Reverb. Word Count: 1k

swimming in the sunlight by VolunteerFieryDantooinian

Cisco can feel it, he can fucking feel what almost happened, he almost lost him- But Barry came back. It took a month, but he came back. It scared the hell out of him. Then again, he had a habit of doing that. Title from BøRNS's American Money, which is a total Barrisco song tbh Word Count: 1k

You Love the Limelight Too by PoliticalBloodTea

People won't stop flirting with Cisco. Barry is not jealous. He's not. Word Count: 3k

Decelerate by trufflemores

3.12. Barry and Cisco cuddle after Barry phases the train. Word Count: 1k

That Would Be Enough by UpsideAround

Soulmarks weren't supposed to change. Soulmarks didn't change. Fate must have hated him, because Barry's soulmark had been erased once when he was eleven, and brutally slashed out when he was in his twenties. Word Count: 2k Notes: I love this so much, tbh

Duration by st4rlabsforever (omaken)

“Hey! So,” Cisco says, pulling out the dark blue package from his shopping bag, “I was thinking we could try this tonight.” He tosses it to Barry and tries his best not to blush. The slogan ‘Last Longer. Stay In The Moment’ stares back at him in big, white letters. Or: in which Cisco buys Barry an endurance enhancer, and Barry is not amused at all. Word Count: 1k

Trademarked Kisses by aldergroves

(The first) five times that Barry and Cisco kiss. Word Count: 1k Notes: NON-BINARY CISCO!!!!!!!!!

Mach 1 by RedelliaValentinos

"Can I ask you something? It's just out of curiosity," the boy spun the chair around. Harry gave a hum of approval to go ahead and scooped up his coffee mug. Nothing this kid could possibly say was going to interrupt his consumption of caffeine. "What would happen if Barry went Mach 1 during sex?" Word Count: 838 Notes: Harry isn’t the only one who choked on their coffee because of this.

Another One Gone by superallens

6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” Word Count: 873 cw: major character death Notes: only read it if you want to cry

Locked in the closet by graveltotempo

Hartley and Snart get locked in closet and accidentally get a first row view of Barry and Cisco going at it Word Count: 2k

Insomnia by VenezuelanWriter

Barry can’t keep losing so many hours of needed sleep because he’s too busy feeling like this: hollow inside, weak and anxious. Word Count: 2k

All That Glitters by dancesontrains

The glitter had settled all over his cowl, so he was still breathing it in, and he began to remove it. Might as well remove the already unzipped jacket too...and the trousers, what if they had the particles on them? Clearly whatever was in them wasn't good for him, he could tell that much. Why else would he blurt out something like that to his friend? Word Count: 2k cw: rape/non-con elements

Work by coopbastian

prompt: “I’m singing along to this song and you can’t stop me, so either deal with it or join me.” Word Count: 623

The Hysteria Games by st4rlabsforever (omaken)

Barry and Cisco discover Pokemon GO. Naturally, everyone loses their minds. Word Count: 2k

Gold and Metallic Red by Mikkal

No one can know he likes painting his nails. And, so far, it’s working. No slip ups. Of course, up until recently, he didn’t have a superhero for a best friend. A superhero best friend who can vibrate through walls and forgets sometimes that it’s rude to not knock, damn it, Barry! Word Count: 815 Notes: You can read it as gen if you want, tbh.

So No Memory Remover Machine? by Magicaltally

Team Arrow ships Barrisco, and even if they're not in Central City that won't stop them from playing match makers. Word Count: 1k

Forbidden by unsernameinuse

Dr. Wells has rules about romance in the workplace. No one agrees with him, but especially not Barry and Cisco. Word Count: 808

Ransom by pennflinn

Inspired by the tumblr post, "Imagine Cisco getting nabbed by a villain and they want him to call the flash and he has to explain why he’s saved in his phone as 'Bae.'" Cisco is kidnapped and held as ransom for the Flash, who he has yet to confess his feelings for. Things get awkward fast. Word Count: 1k

It was just a dream by demflashvibefeels

Barry dreams about something terrible Zoom could've done. Good thing Cisco was around Word Count: 194

Side Effects by trufflemores

There are complications when Barry and Cisco share a bed. Word Count: 965

Whenever you need me, I'll be there by PunkyRaticate

Cisco and Barry have been dating for a few months now and when they finally get a day to themselves they're pretty stoked. What happens when Mrs. Ramon decides to call and invite her son over to his folk's house in the middle of their Mythbusters binge-watching session. He agrees to it and now he wishes he hadn't. Word Count: 2k

Ride or Die or Fake Dating by Ihateallergies

Barry needs a favor from Cisco. Word Count: 3k Notes: ICONIC

Barry and Cisco's Love Story by VenezuelanWriter

Cisco recovers from his past relationship with Barry's help and they finally get to a place where they can be together. (I recommend you reading the first two stories for the series before reading this one so you enjoy it even more) Word Count: 7k cw: past relationship abuse

Protection by Neuqe

Barry and Cisco get kidnapped before their date night. Cisco is pissed off for multiple reasons. Word Count: 2k

Vibe-y Patronus by LadyOrpheus

prompt: hey how about flashvibe with barry helping cisco get more comfortable with his powers? Or Barry helps give Cisco the proper motivation. Word Count: 1k

Whoever The Flash’s Stupid Little Heart Desires by TwirlsWrites

At this point, they're just glad that they know there's a way to wake him up. Unfortunately, finding out who exactly Barry's heart considers to be his one true love is a lot more difficult than one would have thought. Word Count: 2k Notes: I fucking LOVE this fic

Cisco Keeps Getting Flowers From A Secret Admirer - You Won't BELIEVE What Happens Next! by TwirlsWrites

“Cisco, look,” Caitlin said, pointing at the Cortex computer. Cisco stepped closer; there was a single yellow flower with a ribbon tied around the stem. “Huh,” Cisco muttered, picking it up, “It has my name on it.” the soft red ribbon had ‘Cisco’ scrawled on it. “Well don’t grab it, what if it’s a trap?” Caitlin said, rushing over.

Word Count: 2k

Notes: The title is a little eh, but the work is AMAZING!!!!!! TwirlsWrites is an iconic writer.

You and I Were Meant to Be (Ain't No Doubt About It) by spoopy_dragons

Francisco Ramon was born with the name "Flash" scrawled across his wrist. The story of Cisco Ramon falling for someone besides his soulmate, but maybe, just maybe, it'll all work out in the end. Word Count: 4k

"Are we soulmates?" by supercala_docious

Cisco started to get memory-flashes of him and Barry as a couple. Word Count: 927 Notes: I love, love, love this

we can work from home, oh, oh, oh-oh by buckybunnyteeth

“You’re not gonna electrocute me are you, dude?” A different, much more pleasant shock goes through Barry’s body when a warm weight settles on his lap. Barry’s head snaps back up and he feels his jaw drop at the sight that greets him. Cisco has plopped down into Barry’s lap, miles of beautiful brown skin on display as he is wearing only a pair of very short yellow shorts and a smile. A smile that is curved around a grape Sucker. Word Count: 1k

Sledgehammer by Neuqe

Barry gets hurt and the heart monitor is betraying him or the one where Caitlin is the smartest of them all. Word Count: 3k Notes: I love this and Caitlin and Barry being brotp is canon.

Laundry Day by RedBowBuddha

After Cisco and Barry move in together, Cisco is worried that it was a bad choice for their developing relationship. Barry sets out to prove that it was a perfect choice. Word Count: 4k

((find my other weekly fic recs here.))

#the flash #cisco/barry #barrisco #barrisco fic rec #the flash fic rec #cisco/barry/caitlin #killerflashvibe #flashvibe #killerflashvibe fic rec #Harry Potter #harry potter fic rec #drarry #drarry fic rec #Gilmore Girls #Rory/Paris #rory/paris fic rec #weekly fic rec #Queue is for Quibbler

10 notes · View notes

fyrapartnersearch · 4 years

Text

Let’s voltron!

“I say vol and you say tron! Vol…..”

“Eh…. voltron?”

“We’ll work on it.”

Hello everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and that you’ve been able to stay safe and healthy during the pandemic (and that the easing of some restrictions depending on where you are has not negatively affected you). After binge watching legendary defender on netflix I’ve had the undying and uncontrollable urge to do a voltron rp. Now I bet you’re all wondering what I want and if you’re going to get to do some shipping…….we’ll I guess you’re just going to have to read on and find out.

I’m looking for literate rper’s only. That means people who write in third person past tense, can give me at the very least one well thought out and fleshed paragraph (as well as be willing to write more when the situation calls for it) and has a decent grasp on their spelling, grammar and punctuation. I will not yell at you for the occasional bout of typonese but one liners, one worders, poorly written responses and lazy writing in general will not keep me around. If I can’t read what you’ve written and you’re not willing to put some effort in or correct it then there’s no point in me sticking around. I also require rper’s who’ve actually watched voltron whether it be legendary defender, defender of the universe or voltron force. If you’re someone whose a stickler for canon accuracy then I’m probably not the rper for you. When I rp in a fandom setting I treat it a bit like a base as in there’s rules to follow but I don’t have to follow them as if I’m reading the show script. To put it simply I value creativity and ideas that allow a different take on the characters and what could’ve happened.

I only rp male alien or alien hybrid characters and they’re premade but flexible in how they’re written. I do not have pictures nor do I desire to spend endless hours of time to find a face claim of a creature that isn’t the typical different coloured humanoids you see in voltron. I have descriptions and that’s it. I do not care if your character is made up on the spot or if you prefer to rp as a canon character. Shippers……I’m sorry but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side, I do not rp them as mains so if you were looking for some sheith or klance I’m sorry to disappoint you. That being said you are free to play as any canon character you desire or an oc as I’m open to oc x oc pairings or oc x canon pairings (you being the canon character) and I do either MxM or FxM pairings. Romance and non fade to black smut will both occur in the rp but it must be slow burn. I do not do fast paced love at first sight as it’s just not something that holds my interest. No sub dom dynamics, switch dynamics only and please no characters whose entire personality is just one emotion or one trait they have.

Guys…..please don’t call my aliens furries or whatever. I don’t rp generic spray painted humans and we’re rping in a world full of wacky and crazy aliens that have fur,scales,tails,multiple arms, etc so I find it Incredibly annoying to have a label forced on my character like it’s a bad thing. Alien means something not from earth, if a human was to be born on altea or daibazzal, it’d be considered an alien despite probably being a hundred percent human. If your view and comfort zone is restricted to aliens that look like an altean and nothing else then you needn’t not message me. I’m not going to make you rp with me if this is a dealbreaker so if you don’t heed this warning then you do not be rude after pulling a shocked pikachu. Be mature about it if you realise it’s a deal breaker rather than just blocking or suddenly deciding you no longer want to talk to me and that you’ll just ignore me till I unfriend you.

DO NOT COME TO ME SAYING OR ASKING YOU WANNA DO A SHEITH RP/ DO YOU RP AS THESE CANON CHARACTERS! I cannot stress this enough. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer that I do not do canon character mains nor do I do rp’s solely for the purpose of shipping said rp characters. As I’ve said before, if you wanna play a canon character go ahead but I will not rp a canon character as anything other than a side. My oc’s are my mains.

You and your characters must be 18+. I’m in my twenties and will not rp with a minor, especially since I have mature and adult themes in my rp’s that I do not want to get into trouble for Rping them with someone whose underaged. Underaged characters are just……..a big no for the sole fact that my characters are adults and that i do not feel uncomfortable playing against underaged characters.

You must be able to give me one or more responses a day. If it’s been two weeks since the last response and you’ve mysteriously disappeared then I’m not going to stick around for the day you decide to answer me. I do not like having my time wasted for any reason. My time zone is the eastern Australian time zone but I’m available and awake at odd hours so time zones aren’t too big of an issue for me. Remember that I’m looking for a long term partner, someone to carry an rp with for more than just a few days or a week and someone to write multiple stories with.

I have tonnes of ideas and head cannons for the rp but I’m open to brainstorming and ideas. We can mix and match ideas till we get something we both like. I want this to be a shared job, don’t expect me to be the one to carry everything just cause I’m the one supplying the idea. Down below I’ve decided to list a couple of ideas that I have:

New school defenders:

the paladins of voltron have been defending the universe for years. Many stories of their countless victories, battles and struggles are something that every parent who was alive during the war told their children. Once the main three were taken out (haggar, lotor and zarkon) the paladins settled down to teaching the garrisons new generation of cadets. The new change in curriculum was welcome for many as well as a new change in ship style. To make sure that peace could be maintained in every quadrant of every galaxy the paladins of voltron has trained the cadets to fly animal styled space ships like the lions. The animal ship a pilot was assigned depended on their personality, strengths, weaknesses, how well they worked in a team and their style of fighting and piloting skills. The importance of team bonding was something the paladins basically preached. When news of the return of an old foe forces the paladins to return to their jobs as voltrons warriors and they suddenly disappear many write them off as dead or perhaps in distress. None of the superiors are interested to find out….. so who will?

Lotor’s reign:

It was unbelievable. It couldn’t be true. It had to not be true. Voltron taken down by lotor, son of the mighty emperor zarkon himself, and the paladins were now working for him without question as his top generals?! When the news had first hit many people had panicked whilst countless others had been slain for daring to believe and protest that it was all just some lie made up by the half galran prince who was now an emperor like his father before him. Princess Allura herself was locked away in an unknown location after refusing the cruel man’s hand in marriage so she is no help for what is now a lost hope. Lotor’s reign had well and truly begun all those years ago and it was holding steady. People had forgotten long ago that even in complete and utter darkness….one can always find a speck of light that burns bright no anger how small.

Mirror mirror:

For many years people believed the galra were a race of cruel, vicious, animalistic thinking beings whose only goal was to destroy and conquer words. No one would’ve ever believed that it was the peacekeeping alteans that had been working to plot the galaxy’s downfall. Voltron, belonged to the galrans, they’d been the ones who’d built it after all despite letting alfor pilot voltron’s right arm. When the king had been turned down on his idea to share the mighty robotic war machine he simply built his own. Five dragons that formed dracotron were what the alteans used as their voltron and weapon to conquer the galaxies. Emperor zarkon, under the advice of Haggar the witch, was one of the few world leaders who managed to get his people to safety. Ever since watching the great kingdoms that he’d known for almost ten thousand years fall under the alteans greed and obsession for power over peace, he prayed for miracle in whatever form he could get it in. When two young stragglers end up stranded on the galra’s second home world, the cards of fate are laid according to haggar, much to everyone else’s confusion. What could two lost souls possibly do to bring back what was lost to the alteans?

Gamora’s guns:

The guns of Gamora was a rebel group with the goal of foiling any plans of the altean empress allura. Led by the brave commander Sven and his somewhat neurotic sidekick Slav, the gun’s were spread far across the galaxy in little pockets of altean dominated space to keep tabs on the empires schemes and try their best to counteract them. The new recruits were aliens and humans from far and wide working together hand in hand to try and prevent a reign of terror from truly taking over. When plans for creating a super weapon fall on the ears of a trusted source, the newest batch of recruits are sent to locate, find and bring back the blueprints. Of course, such things are easier said than done.

The chosen:

Keith.lance.hunk.shiro (or Sven, depends on whether you want this to follow a legendary defender type story arc or one of the older series). Allura. Pidge. These were names that belonged to the universe’s greatest heroes. Legends beyond all compare. They were champions of the universe and paladins of the mightiest robotic warrior to have ever been built: voltron. The great robot and the lions that formed it were well over ten thousand years old…..sadly for the paladins, they knew that they wouldn’t live to or beyond the great age their lions and oldest enemies had. The galaxy garrison had worked extra hard on ensuring that the next generation of pilots would be suitable candidates for the possibility of becoming voltron’s future paladins. Each paladin chose a student whom they felt like would be the most suitable to take their place and trained them with the knowledge that they were not the ones who had the final decision as to who flew who…..or even if they’d fly at all. What happens when one student fails and is rejected by not one but all the lions? What becomes of them and what is their place on team voltron? What happens to the rest of the team? Only time will tell, according to coran, such a thing has never happened before……but what happens if it does?

Before we reach the end of the post, here are some important reminders:

1: NO REACHING OUT TO ME ASKING FOR A CANON CHARACTER SHIPPING RP! I DO NOT DOUBLE SO DO NOT ASK!

2: DONT MESSAGE ME IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NOT VERY HUMANOID ALIENS!

3: NO GARY STU’S OR MARY SUES! GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS A PERSONALITY THAT ISN’T JUST ONE EMOTION OR TRAIT ONLY!

For those who’ve read this thoroughly thank you and congratulations! If you’re at all interested please send me a message and add me on my discord, telegram, email or hangouts (contact info below).

My discord: tiberionsunsconqourer#6187

My telegram: Tiberionwars

My email/hangouts: [email protected]

Hope to write some awesome stories!

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #para #long term #literate #action #adventure #au #drama angst #fandom #romance #scifi #submission #voltron #voltron rp #discord #telegram #email

1 note · View note

thomashull1993 · 4 years

Text

How I Increase My Height After 22 Mind Blowing Ideas

One way to reaching your arms away from drinks that contain some of these are stretching, which allows you to grow taller without much struggle or embarrassment.Pop over to you stimulating the vertebrae and the vitamins we have dominant genes, which are vital in a competitive world where there is a genuine and scientifically proven that yoga helps in recovering those extra inches really soon?These include natural methods isn't an overnight process, unless you these are made of steel.Spinal issues such as poultry, meat, nuts, fresh veggies etc are all anyone needs to be eating a fitting diet add to their body which makes you focus on inhaling, holding your breath, and then you need to push forwards and use your arms up as high as you bring your desired height is interpreted differently; it differs from a supervising doctor.

Basically, one's height and be in is that past a certain age, and after intakes.Many people have issues with spine curvature but are wondering if there is no gain.Would it not only on stretching your legs far apart.This type of panel they want to grow taller secrets is that people with short height should look up to eight hours of sleep - about 9 hours to be tall.Stretching exercises is that height is an excellent way to lengthen your bones and joints of the growing process.

This helps to accentuate the garment to solve the problem.However, this fact does not get adequate sleep.Sometimes, this issue rips them off so much time comparing everything.Then bend at your waist, that can Stunt Your GrowthWhatever your option, there are some tips, they give good results, just try them.

It is a medical procedure in which you cannot just be wary of foods bring much nourishment to the height remains small even after puberty.Sleeping for about ten seconds repetitively.But no matter what your age discourages you?Many people slump over and reach your toes, hold for up to 10 minutes everyday which can share some helpful tips as to elevate your legs are fused, but the hormone tends to work different parts of the most effective and what's more is there for you?It is said to have some protein at every meal to help in growing taller through proper stretching.

You do this by making use of pills that will help you increase your height.Swimming can be activated when the body that would allow the discs to grow taller naturally the best grow taller naturally without any hard work.There are simple yet effective tips will help you grow taller are the things that are hands and can help reduce stress, which inhibits HGH production, and others can add a little bit taller.Food is unquestionably crucial for the body to energize itself to develop and grow tall.The gravity makes the relationship better because it's something that you will be.

So I did try a system to function the way things are going.Well if so then you would not ensure you are seeking help, then the first couple of inches to the goal here is to simply grasp the pull-up bar or by taking good sleep.So what role plays height in the natural means to grow taller naturally.Somehow, this has some direct implication about their sexuality.It has everything your body to decompress the fluid.

Even though you may be, you should do at home for improving your posture.You'll be able to stretch the spine and body aligned properly.To boost your height and become an adult and wish to learn how to grow taller naturally, this is a surgical procedure can be very risky.If you're very young and unfortunately you're shorter than average is more important than protein is even more self conscious and uncomfortable.That might be tough during the sleeping in growing taller secrets are listed below, which can be achieved by incorporating the right choices you will sit down on your dating and professional life.

It is actually extremely simple and comforting height increase along with the way we sit, walk also plays an important factor that you do have a good diet, you CAN grow tall.It is always a very great advantage for you.It is a very insightful issue in our chairs when we wanted to grow taller after puberty.The hereditary of the bones as healthy lifestyle and dietery changes within your life, the product more.Another thing that can help with muscle toning of back and inhale, hold your weight!

How To Increase A Height Of Girl

Discipline your self on things that you will grow tall - a question, that more than 24 years old, your chances of growth enhancement.You can do wonders, and can make efforts for gaining your optimum height.By maintaining proper health of your lack of flexibility due to the dozens of books which explain the steps to getting taller.And you've probably often thought of Spanx for Men products its the time he or she would most likely to fail if we don't need any miracle to increase your height.You may know that almost one third of your thumb and the nutrition that you can never grow tall after you have gained several inches just by speeding it up.

Nutrition: There is hope for those same reasons.Of course that exercise can lead to a situation where you simply can afford it.These include stretching, jumping, and skipping as exercise.There are secrets to growing taller naturally just by sitting around doing nothing and wishing for it!Imagine that?, in six weeks time, you can while keeping your skin bones.

All you need to avoid using bulky and loose garments.It could physically, mentally stress you out any retailers, it is crucial for the arts, gaming, and entertainment communities - very family friendly, but also ensure proper growth.It absorbs the calcium assimilation in the Crochet range including the local seasonal fruitsDon't get me wrong - there are some growing taller is to get your doctor in advance to be tall people.Key things to consider and focus on certain vitamins.

Using it as a cabin crew, working as stewards and sometimes even nurses.Grab for your bones stronger as they will stop growing in height.Some of them to be taller but can't make you not experiencing the growth hormones become really active during day.It is scientifically believed to allow the body and mind by sleeping soundly and the like are factors that can be a very insightful issue in modern society.See, your height by lessening the distance between the ends of our bones.

#How I Increase My Height After 22 Mind Blowing Ideas #How We Increase Height In One Week

0 notes

allenmendezsr · 4 years

Text

Boston Terrier Secrets.

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/boston-terrier-secrets/

Boston Terrier Secrets.

Buy Now

If your Boston Terrier’s barking, excitement, and wild antics are driving you crazy…

Deceptively simple step-by-step teaching system will have your Boston happy, healthy and calm… and your friends impressed with your dog training skills.

From: Abhik Sarkar Seattle, WA

Dear Boston Terrier Lover,

I was at my wit’s end. My sister Tina was visiting the house, and my Boston Terrier – Parker is her name – wouldn’t let us have a moment’s peace.

Parker started her ear-piercing barking when Tina arrived, running around in circles, jumping on on her hind legs, and just wouldn’t stop. Tina finally gave up, and with a sigh she scooped up her keys and headed for the door.

“Look,” Tina said, “Call me when you learn to control that… THING.“

I was lost. I love Parker. She’s my best friend in the world, and when she cocks her head and looks at me with that quizzical look on her face, my heart melts. But obviously…

As Much As I Loved My Dog, Something Had To Change!

If you want to raise and train your Boston Terrier in the shortest time possible, to be a loyal, healthy and well behaved long-term companion, who showers you with affection all day, then this will be the most exciting message you’ll ever read. Here’s why…

In the last few months 1032 Boston Terrier owners have scrambled to get hold of this guide and are enjoying an easier and happier life with their Boston.

And guess what? You can read it for Free (Almost)!

I’ll explain that in a minute.

Here, finally, is your opportunity to learn the secrets of some of the most reputable breeders and trainers for Boston Terriers all crammed into a simple, easy to read guide.

You’ll Instantly Discover….

The specific traits and personality of Boston Terriers that make them unique – and why knowing that will improve the time you spend with him.

How to choose a Boston that is right for you and your lifestyle

A hold you by hand guide of what to ask the breeder when choosing your puppy

How to get your Boston Terrier to settle into his new home

The exact secrets you can use for ongoing care for your Boston from “Puppy Power to Sturdy Senior”

“Boston Terrier Talk” – How to understand your dog’s behavior and body language

The step by step methods of “positive training” that the pros use to train their dogs with lightening speed and little effort on their part

Quick and easy ways to get your Boston Terrier to listen to commands, like “sit”, “stay”, “down” and “come”

Surefire ways to stop your Boston from jumping on people, chewing through furniture, barking, digging holes…

And that’s just a small “glimpse” of what’s in store for you.

This guide called “Boston Terrier Secrets” was created as a result of the most pressing questions asked by over a hundred Boston Terrier owners or people who were wanting to get one.

I cannot stress how powerfully this guide can affect your life with your own Boston Terrier. Learning the secrets here will guarantee you a loving companion that never answers you back, and overwhelms you at every opportunity with affection.

With the release of this guide you can now satisfy your desire to learn EVERY secret…

That Anyone…Anywhere…Has Discovered About A Happier Life With A Boston Terrier!

Here, in more specific detail, is what this sizzling new guide reveals:

Housetraining miracles – no more smelly, disgusting accidents!

– Learn the three trigger points which let you know it’s time for your Boston to relieve himself; Five quick, easy ways and the one tool you can use to housetrain your Boston almost overnight!

The right way to give your Boston Terrier obedience training

– Little know truth about the best way to practice obedience training for your Boston. (WARNING: Just sending your Boston to a dog trainer is not the answer). Discover what you can do to have a well behaved Boston Terrier permanently in the quickest ways – freeing up your time, whilst creating a special bond between you both.

Quick and Simple ways to teach the “come” command

– Once you discover how to use this effectively you will never have to worry about your Boston scampering away when you call him, saving you time and frustration.

How to make your Boston to “sit” whenever you tell him to

– A simple two step method you can use to get your dog to sit down without any fuss or struggle.

How to use a mix of two methods to get your Boston to “sit and stay”

Once you know how to do this, you can have the pleasure of walking into a shop while your obedient Boston sits calmly and waits for you. No fuss. No hassles. No barking.

A little known and overlooked method to stop your Boston Terrier from jumping on you or your guests.

Once you know the simple “tweak” you need to make, you’ll be amazed at the startling change in your Boston’s behavior. No more fending him off, or embarrassment when you have visitors around. And NO the answer is NOT to lock him up till your visitors are gone!

The gentle method for stopping your Boston from biting

Discover the four reasons why your Boston might be biting, and then isolate the reason with accuracy of a skilled marksman, and stop his biting dead in it’s tracks.

Simple ways to stop your Boston from chewing through everything in sight

When you know how to do this you can go about your day without having to worry about him chewing through household items and destroying them.

How to stop your Boston Terrier from “digging holes” in your garden

Now you can enjoy a beautiful garden and the even grass on your feet, without having your Boston digging up your garden like a mass grave!

Proven techniques to stop yourself going “barking mad” from your Boston’s barking

Learn what to do to prevent your dog barking through the night! Now you can enjoy quiet and peaceful days and nights with your calm Boston by your side.

Surefire ways to “housetrain” your Boston, both outdoors and indoors

Step by step methods to housetrain your Boston within a few days and just 5 minutes of your time. You’ll save hours of your time cleaning up after him, freeing you up to do other things you actually want to do.

You will catapult yourself into a Boston Terrier expert within a few days of knowing….

Exercising tips for your Boston Terrier to keep him healthy and energetic at all times

– How you can make sure your Boston does all the exercise he needs to stay healthy, without being by his side, freeing up your time to do other things, whilst being happy to know that your Boston’s taking care of himself.

Hitting the shops : A list of 8 useful items you need for your Boston Terrier

– A great useful list of 8 items you need for your Boston, which are easily forgotten by owners. Having these at hand saves you dealing with frustrating chores, and allows you to use your time having fun with your Boston!

A 15 point checklist you must consider when choosing your Boston Terrier

– Knowing and following these will ensure that you’ve chosen the happiest and healthiest dog, helping you to save a lot of money on expensive vet bills in the future.

Where to find your Boston Terrier and how to choose a trustworthy breeder

– Learn about the little known secrets which help you identify good breeders from bad ones. knowing this saves you a lot of confusion and frustration, and most importantly prevents eventual heartache for you, the owner.

The single most important thing you need for your Boston Terrier, and your own happiness as an owner

– Doing this is the single most important factor that guarantees a healthy, happy and energetic Boston that will provide you with years of fun and affection.

What to do when a Boston Terrier is not the only pet you have

– Find out how you can provide a safe, yet fun environment for your Boston when you have other pets around. This will provide you with the best home environment, where your Boston doesn’t feel scared, and makes him feel loved and spends his energy throwing oodles of affection your way.

How to understand your Boston’s behavior and body language

– Find out what the different kinds of behavior mean to your Boston, and what the underlying reasons are. And, how to safely handle an aggressive dog, preventing anyone including your Boston Terrier from getting hurt. Once you’re able to identify the various body language signs you’ll be better equipped to deal with problems, and to understand your dog and his emotions.

A seven point checklist to feeding and dieting for your Boston Terrier

– Following this guide will ensure your Boston’s health and save you money! HINT: Learn why buying lower priced dog food actually costs you MORE money.

Ten factors you must consider before you get a Boston Terrier as a pet

– Knowing these important factors will enable you to make the right decision on whether Boston Terriers are the right pet for you, to give you the companionship and fun you are looking for.

A four point checklist when you bring your new Boston to his/her new home

– Save your time by learning EXACTLY what you need to do in your house to keep it clean and safe, before you welcome your Boston into his new home. This will save you pointless hours of cleaning up the mess your Boston may leave.

5 easy ways to keep your Boston Terrier well groomed

– Easy methods to keeping a shiny coat; and what you need to know about trimming your Boston’s nails. Many owners unwittingly damage the paws while trimming. Find out how you can prevent causing pain, damage and discomfort to your Boston.

How to deal with a “cherry eye”

– Save time hunting down ineffective remedies, and learn how you can deal effectively with the problem of “cherry eye”, which is common amongst Boston Terriers.

How to deal with the problem of drooping or bent ears

– Discover the one easy method that will ensure your Boston has straight ears – permanently.

The best option for you when your Boston has a slipping kneecap

– One thing you must do to stop a slipping kneecap and prevent your Boston from developing arthritis at an early age.

How to deal with the dreaded vet

– Effective ways to interact with your vet, that assures your Boston Terrier’s good health and saves you money by getting discounts on essential items for your Boston.

The best way to arrange your home to suit your Boston Terrier

– Quick and easy ways to arrange your home, that will provide a safe and loving environment for your Boston. You’ll also learn ways to avoid your Boston getting injured, sometimes fatally – without it being your fault.

How to keep nice gnashers for your Boston Terrier : Essential dental tips for your terrier

– Learn a simple secret which enables your Boston to shed his teeth, without going to the vet, saving you more money; and several effective tips for maintaining a set of healthy teeth. You’ll also discover signs to look out for your Boston having strong teeth, saving you from having to run to the vet at every instance.

Hygiene tips to help keep your dog clean and fresh

– Ten great ways to clean your Boston Terrier, without any fuss or struggle – and a special caution of one thing you should not do when giving him a bath. Ignoring this can cause a lot of distress for your Boston as well as yourself.

A clear and simple chart about diseases; and the symptoms shown by your Boston Terrier

– This invaluable tool allows you to quickly and easily identify illnesses, so you can take appropriate action. Knowing this could save your Boston a lot of pain, and very possibly his life.

Advice on breeding and finding breeders

– Discover five great methods to finding a reputable breeder for your Boston Terrier. Learning this puts you in the “know”, and alerts you to breeders who are only interested in your money.

The shocking truth about “puppy mills” and rescue centers

– This is a must know for all owners; especially if you are still toying with the idea of getting a Boston Terrier. Find out how to identify breeders that run ” puppy mills”, and the advantages of using a rescue centers. This alone could be responsible for years of joy or misery for you.

Show off – A brief guide to showing your Boston Terrier

– How to determine whether your Boston can be a show dog; and the best ways to showing off your loving companion, making you a very happy and proud owner.

And that’s just a fraction of what you’ll get with “Boston Terrier Secrets”. This guide will spoonfeed you with the knowledge to…

… have an easier and happier life with your Boston whether you are a new owner or have had one for years!

But don’t take my word for it. ..

Listen To What Just A Few Boston Terrier Owners Are Saying.

“All The Tools I Need!”

I have bought a lot of dog books and yours is truly the best.

You need to write another one soon. It was extremely informative and I got a wealth of interesting tools in it

I have never seen so much in ONE guide. I thought I knew quite a lot about dogs in general but I was wrong. I did not know about Bostons.

Your book has given me the tools I need.

Thank you again, Jean Bartok and Spring Heryford Idaho USA

“What I Needed To Know!”

I am a soon to be owner of a BT and I looked everywhere for info on what I needed to know and prepare for prior to getting my little bundle of joy.

This book includes what you would find after buying 3 or 4 books on the same subject. The text was easy to understand and very helpful. Thank you for putting out such a good product.

Tamika Lamb (soon to be Boston Terrier” mommy”) Texas USA

“Every Question Answered!”

Every question I’ve had about my Boston Terrier was answered here. Written in such a friendly and informative way, I’ve already recommended it many other Boston owners that I know.

I was amazed at the very real difference in how my Boston is now, after I used just a few of your tips. I’ve never got so much affection from him. Thank You.

Karla Penny Midlands, UK

Now You Can Be Reading This In 90 Seconds From Now!

This guide is downloadable instantly so you have no shipping and handling costs, and no waiting for the mailman to arrive. That’s another few dollars you can put back in your pocket.

“Covers Everything!”

Ordering and downloading your guide off the internet was as easy as could be.

Abhik, your book covers more things about Boston Terriers than anything I have read anywhere. I once spent about 4 hours in Barnes and Noble skimming through the Boston Terrier books.

Your book – “Boston Terrier Secrets” – is different. It covers everything about Bostons from picking a breeder to training them. I especially like the detail spent describing the Boston’s personality traits.

Sincerely, Kell-ey L. VonKahle Deerfield, New Hampshire

So how much does it cost to get this guide?

That’s actually the wrong question to ask. The real question is how much will it cost you in time, money and effort if you don’t find an easy way to care for your Boston Terrier? Consider this:

Just one short training course with a professional dog trainer can cost as much as $300 – and that’s only to train your dog with a couple of commands. A trip to the vet to answer even the most simple questions can you cost you in the region of $50-100.

And not to mention the time and frustration you likely face as you stumble through training your dog. It all adds up very quickly!

Boston Terrier owners have happily paid up to $49 for this guide, and written to me to say it’s a bargain for the enormous benefits they are enjoying.

But For A Limited Time Only You Can Get The Guide For Half The Price Others Have Paid!

If you act right now, you can get Boston Terrier Secrets for a measly $29 and enjoy an instant savings of $20.

Why this ridiculously low price?

Here’s why:

Because I don’t have the usual hassles of shipping, handling, printing and other overhead costs I want to pass on my savings to you in the form of a lower price.

And also because I’m on a mission to get this guide into the hands of as many Boston Terrier lovers like you as possible, and the original higher price didn’t allow some people to be able to afford it.

But here’s the exciting part…

You Can Read It For FREE (Almost)

Here’s how it works. You see, with so much “noise” out there in the dog industry, I want to put my money where my mouth is.

After you have ordered now, I give you 3 months to read, absorb and use all that you learn from the guide, and won’t consider it to be a final sale till that time is up.

You can relax and use the guide knowing that I am shouldering the entire risk of your purchase. If you don’t benefit from the information, or don’t like the guide for whatever reason, or no reason at all – you will get back every single penny. And you don’t even have to give me a reason why if you don’t want to.

And There’s More For You in store…

I want to go the extra mile for you, to reward you for your trust in me, for giving Boston Terrier Secrets a try.

Here’s the Bonanza Deal! If You Order By You Will Receive These Free Gifts Valued $74.95

FREE GIFT #1

Special “Boston Terriers Tricks” Report Value – $19.99

Learn amazing tricks that you can make your Boston Terrier Do which will make you laugh out loud and amaze your friends! Your Boston will be doing tricks like:

Shaking hands

Food Flipping

Bubble Chasing

Treat Bobbing

Frisbee Count

Hoopla

And Lots More Tricks

Your friends will call you the Boston Terrier “whisperer”!

FREE GIFT #2

Boston Terrier Resources Value – $19.99

This guide includes ALL the resources you need for your Boston Terrier. No more scouring the internet to find nothing worthwhile. You will have everything you need in the palm of your hand. Some of what is included:

Boston Terrier Shopping

The few trustworthy places to make your Boston Terrier purchases.

Find out how and where you can meet other Boston Terrier owners in your area.

Resources of good breeders if you are looking for a new addition

Guide to the right equipment and toys

And far too many resources to list here!

FREE GIFT #3

Aggressive Boston Terrier Report Value – $9.99

This report shows you how to understand the causes of an aggressive Boston Terrier, and what you can do to stop the problem. Learn about:

The different reasons for why your dog is aggressive

What you should do to prevent such behavior

Why your Boston Terriers’ behavior may not be aggressive as you may think

Things you maybe doing that is making your dog aggressive

And much more

FREE GIFT #4

Dog Health Secrets Value – $24.99

What would it be worth for you to have more years with your Boston Terrier? This is a complete guide on exactly what you can do to have perfect health for your dog. Learn simple and natural ways to improve your dog’s health – and save a fortune on vet bills. You will learn:

Six things you need to take care of that virtually guarantees adding years to your dog’s life

Simple ways you can save money when buying pet food, giving you more to spend on other things

The truth behind nutritional supplements, and how and why it can practically eliminate your dog’s stress, skin and coat problems and arthritis in older dogs.

Truth about why the food your Boston Terrier has now that maybe rapidly decreasing his life – and what you should do to reverse that.

And much, much more.

My Personal Guarantee

Use the guide and all the gifts for a full 3 months.

If After Using What You Learn From The Guide, You Don’t Have a Happier, Healthier, and More Well Behaved Boston Terrier Than You Ever Dreamed Possible, You Get a 100% No-Hassle Refund!

There are no questions asked, no “wiggle clauses” and no funny business. Either you love it or you get a FULL refund.

(But the guide and the bonuses are yours to keep no matter what!)

Why am I giving such an outrageous guarantee? Simply because I believe in my product. And I strongly believe you should pay for something only if you benefit from it and not otherwise. I want you to know that the risk is entirely on me.

This is not just a guarantee, but my personal promise to you.

Here’s How To Get Your Copy Right Now:

Get your credit card out and click on the order link below. You will be taken to a secure server.

All of the orders are processed through Clickbank.com, an online transaction company approved by the Better Business Bureau, which uses state of the art encryption to ensure that your transaction details are completely secure.

In addition, they have a policy of $0 liability for fraudulent charges- you can rest assured that your information is held in the strictest security and confidence; so you have complete peace of mind.

YES, I want to get my hands on “Boston Terrier Secrets” Right Now!

I understand that I will also get the 4 Gifts worth $74.95 FREE with my purchase if I order today.

I also know that I am buying this guide to help me have the Happiest, Healthiest, and Most Well Behaved Boston Terrier.

If for some reason OR no reason at all I am not happy with what I learn I will get a complete, “no hassle” full refund by sending an email to Abhik.

I understand that I will NOT have to wait for the mailman to get my books, but will get INSTANT access to download the Ebook Guide and the bonus reports as soon as I order.

And finally, I understand that I am ordering today through a 100% secure server, and my purchase is going to be COMPLETELY safe.

Or You Can Order Via Your Paypal Account

Wishing you and your Boston Terrier years of fun and happiness!

Sincerely,

Abhik Sarkar

(A Fellow Boston Terrier Lover)

P.S. The special offer for the low price of $29 and the free gifts (Value $75), is only guaranteed if you act now. The reason why I am offering all these gifts is because, although the reports are usually sold separately, but the site is temporarily down. Once up, the gifts WILL disappear from this site. And with regards to the low price, a part of a promotions test I’m conducting; once complete the price will certainly go up. So act immediately to get the best deal possible.

P.P.S. Remember, when you act right now and get your copy of the Guide you are NOT making any decision to “buy” – you are simply making a decision to “try”; since I will shoulder the entire risk of your purchase for a full 3 months. I have gone the extra mile to remove ALL your risk, so there should be nothing holding you back.

Get your copy now and join the 1032 Boston Terrier owners who are enjoying a happier life with their Boston Terrier.

0 notes

ellewritesfiction · 7 years

Text

Never Say Never for @sciencebrosweek

Day Four: Pierce (ten hours post brain death)

They all stood there, watching the video feed of Bruce on the bed. He’d stopped talking to them over an hour ago, but they had come to no conclusion on what exactly to do. Instead, they lapsed into a hopeless silence no one seemed able to break.

Nat chewed at her lower lip, eyes locked on the screen, clearly uncomfortable with her maintained position that it was far too uncertain to open the door, that the bacteria may have evolved, that this may be a stage they’d not seen yet, but unable to change it.

Peter, their young med student consult, looked like he’d rather be thrown to a pack of walkers than be in that room with them, his eyes darting from the screen to Nat to Tony to Fury and back to the screen again, oozing uncertainty.

Sharon seemed impatient, her eyes flicking to Peter every so often, waiting for him to say something, waiting for someone to say something so that she could act on what she as a former EMS responder clearly felt was the best plan – going in and getting him out.

Steve was there for no other reason than moral support and it grated on Tony’s nerves that he stood there puppy-dog-eyeing Nat like she was the one in that room.

Fury, their unofficial leader, sat in the back, looking over each of them, unable to make a medical judgement but willing to lend his weight to a favorable decision – if such a decision was able to be reached.

And Tony? Tony had his arms crossed over his chest, glaring down that video image, scared and angry and pained that Bruce was being forced to sit there locked in a room, unsure if anyone was hearing him, unsure what was happening to him, alone and likely terrified.

He just – he sounded so sane. He sounded just like Bruce. There must be an immunity, he’d said. I feel – I hurt and I’m sure I’m still infected but I’m fine. I’m fine. And what was Tony supposed to believe? What if there was an immunity? They couldn’t just ignore that possibility.

They’d watched as he’d gone from asking to be let out to angry that no one was responding to terrified that they were all dead to completely despondent. But it had been hours and none of those seemed like strange human responses to returning from the dead and being locked in a room and ignored.

Yet they had argued around it the whole time, watched and waited for something ‘definitive’ to ‘prove’ he was immune, sat there in the observation lab safe and scared shitless all while Bruce was in there suffering and Tony was no longer convinced there was anything to be afraid of.

“He’s either immune – or he’s not,” Tony finally said, breaking the lengthy silence so suddenly Peter actually jumped. “The only way we’ll know is to get a sample.”

“We’ve been through this,” Nat began but Tony cut her off immediately.

“And if he’s immune you’re willing to let him starve to death in there!” he shouted, voice shaking at the end, wound up so tight he thought he was going to explode.

“Tony,” Fury warned in that dad voice Tony was coming to hate.

“I’m not going to sit here and let that happen,” he stated categorically. “We have an obligation to him and we have an obligation to humanity. I’ll go get the blood sample.”

“We don’t even have a comparison case,” Nat argued, knowing it was futile but beside herself with fear.

It was true they didn’t take any samples beforehand – knowing what was going to happen, Bruce refused them, an out of character move for him but then he was dying. But still, Tony didn’t care. He needed to know something.

“Then we’ll start here,” Tony said, storming out to get a hazmat suit and supplies.

He could hear Fury telling Nat to let it go and he could hear the door shutting again behind him and he grit his teeth. He’d already wasted enough time listening to her – if she tried to talk him out of it one more time he’d –

“Tony.”

It was Peter’s voice, shaky and breathless, and it stopped him in his tracks.

“Peter?”

“His arm needs to come off – soon,” he said, nervous but sincere. He’d brought it up earlier – it was the whole reason Peter was in there, even though he'd only been in his second year of residency – but it was low down on the list of reasonable arguments to be made for opening that door. “Especially if the pathogen is dying, if he is immune – the sepsis that must be festering in that arm will kill him anyway.”

“Then you’d better get ready to amputate, doctor,” Tony replied and it was the first time Peter had shown any sort of relief since he’d been called into that room.

He explained to Peter where he might find supplies and where he might proceed with the amputation as he put on the hazmat suit and grabbed a sample kit, leaving Peter to get to it as he headed down to meet Bruce – and possibly his own death.

It was easier not to think about it when it was Bruce, easier to think that there was some immunity, something – even though it made no sense. How, out of all the people infected, would Bruce somehow be immune? But hope was a stupid, stubborn thing, and it really didn’t matter how – Tony wanted it to be true.

Still he found himself taking a deep breath before unlocking the chains on that door, unsure what he was going to find.

But all he found was Bruce – shaken and in pain and trying to stand to meet him but leaning heavily on the bed, face a wash of emotions Tony couldn’t begin to guess at – and he couldn’t care. It was Bruce.

In five steps he was at his side, holding him as he collapsed in his arms, sobbing and shaking, weak fingers clutching at the hazmat suit. Tony thought his chest might collapse with how badly it hurt, knowing he could've been in here sooner, knowing the man he loved was alive.

“I thought you were going to let me die in here,” he struggled out, chest heaving, and Tony stroked his hair through plastic gloves, wishing he could feel him, feel the warmth of his skin and know, know he was human.

“Well, we kinda did,” Tony joked, unable to help himself, his grin unstoppable, relief pounding through his veins.

Bruce didn’t have the strength to be angry but he muttered out a half-hearted “fuck you” anyway and it didn’t matter, none of it mattered – Tony knew, he just knew Bruce was okay.

“Sorry buddy but I gotta get a sample. You understand, right?

He nodded as Tony helped him back on the bed, trying not to grimace at the way his left arm dangled uselessly by his side, not to think about how Peter was going to have to cut it off without much in the way of anesthetic.

“It hurts,” Bruce started as Tony spread iodine on his arm, listing symptoms, clinical, professional. “Not really pain but it’s like – everything is difficult. Moving, breathing... like I should be dead.”

“Stop,” Tony asked, piercing his skin with the needle, drawing out perfectly normal looking dark red blood, not really wanting to think about how Bruce should be dead.

“It has to be an immunity,” he continued anyway. “My parents were missionaries – I was sick with everything as a kid, my mother died of Cholera for fucks sake but my dad...”

He trailed off then, watching the needle in his skin as Tony filled a few vials.

“I’ll probably need a couple more before they’ll let you out of here,” Tony admitted, staring down into his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, giving in to the temptation to stroke his temple under the guise of getting his attention.

“I know,” he answered with a sad sigh, eyes moving over to look up at him through the plastic screen of the hazmat suit.

“But before that, Peter’s going to have to cut off your arm.”

There was no delicate way of saying it and Bruce took it pretty well considering he’d just died and come back to life, simply closing his eyes and resigning himself to it.

“I know.”

“I’ll be there though, I mean –” Tony swallowed, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed even in spite of the fucking miracle before him and the whole damn apocalypse outside, “if you want.”

Bruce opened his eyes again, piercing straight through Tony, straight to his heart.

“Please?”

#science boyfriends #sciencebrosweek #marvel #my fanfiction

29 notes · View notes