#they come every year so far from home to fight fires here in canada

[chaoticrystal]

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU SOUTH-AFRICAN FIREFIGHTERS!!

[kilroytssf]

Kilroy’s Story Thus Far

Born in Vancouver Canada, Kilroy has grown up in environments where family was more than blood. He served in the Canadian Armed forces before being discharged and narrowly avoided being tried as a war criminal. He took to the biker lifestyle like it was his home. Settling with a club he would soon become one of the most valued and respected members of, he now hopes to spread the clubs reach into a new city and establish his own charter with some of his closest brothers at his side.

Born to Gardener Warhier and a mother he never met, Kilroy worked hard and learned what he could from his old man. He raised horses, learned to hunt, and how to live off the land. His father would keep them moving, but this was the life of a backwoodsman. 1892 was a very different life than what he now leads, but that comes with the territory of being over 100 years old. He would live many years into manhood, and lose his father to the brutalities of the wild lands. When the call came to serve in the first world war, Kilroy enlisted. Still seeking a home, a place where he felt he belonged. His unit would become his new brotherhood, the men in hist platoon his blood. And as they served, they would see things no man should see.

Kilroy adopted this new life with eagerness and took great pride in what he did, but the acts he would commit would later be filed under the Geneva convention as war crimes. This would not keep him from serving until the end of the first world war. Upon returning to Canadian soil, Kilroy acquired his first motorcycle. The Norton 16H, and it would serve as his primary form of transportation before re-enlisting in 1939 to fight in the pacific theatre of ww2. Here, he would face new trials, and the darkest moment of his life would begin. While tracking Japanese soldiers in the oceanic jungles, his squad came upon a small encampment. Kilroy, as the squad’s sergeant, called for his squad to pause and spread out around the camp. On his mark, they went in. Gunshots filled the air, smoke rose and as the din of gunfire settled, they took into view who they had found. 3 men in only loincloths and a woman wearing bones, a headdress and her face smeared with white paint. As the squad searched the camp, Kilroy looked closer into the eyes of the woman.

The world slipped away and he now stood alone. The jungle dead silent. As were all of his brothers. Kilroy tried to turn, but realized he was kneeling and the woman stood before him, a strange blade in her hand, with a wicked curve to it. He tried to move, to take her weapon. To free himself.

“Do umui gini goada noho, bona lau do umui badinaia noho ela bona mase, vadaeni lau ese umui emui kwalimu ahuna, mauri, umui dekenai do lau henia.” She whispered.

Light filled the jungle and Kilroy let out a scream that turned into a malicious and maniacal cackle.

“I have returned.”

Kilroy didn’t know it yet, but what had just happened to him would change his life forever. His aging stopped. In fact, it went backwards. His body became stronger and younger. His hair, once jet black, not frosted with white, and his eyes burned. Pupils turned to flame and his flesh would begin to melt. Revealing the exposed skull beneath. As he now stood from the fire, he howled into the still night.

“I am Azrael, I am death.”

Azrael would control him for the duration of the second world war. Allowing Kilroy to survive active conflicts no man should’ve lived through. He killed many and would remember very little of it. He would be redeployed a few months after to what would be considered to be one of the longestest days in military history. Juno beach. On this day, Kilroy would return to control. Azrael would pull him through the initial landing, but the amount of work the fallen angel would be forced to do, would seal away the spirit so he could recover. Kilroy would finish fighting the war himself, but every wound would heal quickly. The angelic power afforded him by Azrael’s presence would give Kilroy healing powers he would become reliant on.

When he returned to Canada, he immediately realized there would always be one more war to fight. He would be living his life in a haze for another 80 years. But all of this would change after he returned from Korea.

With Canada finally opting to serve peace, Kilroy’s need for blood remained unsatisfied. He enlisted for the American armed forces and served in the Vietnam conflict. Here, he learned guerrilla tactics and how to fight when the odds were against him.

His leadership would only get him so far though, it would be his criminal nature that would carry him through. After serving, he would begin serving mercenary groups, private security details and cartels. His dark heart would be his strength, and his cruel nature would be his strength. Kilroy leaned into the power afforded him by Azrael and he would break men. Torturing them. Causing harm brought strength to Azrael, but his hunger for more, would also be his weakness. He became blind to his own destructive nature, and wouldn’t hear the screams of the people he hurt anymore. He wouldn’t feel their suffering and became a weapon of his employers. All until...

“Enough.” Kilroy’s eyes flickered. His heart stopped pounding and he came back to himself. His head turned, and he locked eyes with the closed off, cold eyes of his employer.

“You’re done Warhier. Get out.” Kilroy’s eyes flickered, and he looked back at the eyes of the person he’d been working on. Her eyes were empty. Grey in colour, like the waters that had been soon turned red by the blood. Her eyes were filled with tears, and the blood coloured her sclera. Who was she? Why was she here? Who was he even working for? Kilroy had no answers.

He stepped outside and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. His hands were coated in blood, and he only noticed when he held the lighter to the dart.

He shook his head and wiped his hand on his pant leg. He flicked the flint and held it to the end. It smouldered and he took a deep breath of smoke. He remembered coughing the first time he ever smoked, but the smoke barely even registered in his throat anymore. It passed through to his lungs and he let out the breath slowly. His mind raced and he heard a voice that was once shouting, screaming, laughing... calm. He placed the dart between his lips and held it, while he pulled out his phone.

Half the numbers he saw he didn’t recognize, the other half, he didn’t care. But one number stuck out to him.

Dennis. Who the fuck was Dennis? The name sounded familiar, but from where? Kilroy took another drag and dialed the number.

“Yup” The voice came through.

“Hi, Dennis? It’s Kilroy”

“Yup, what you want?”

“I need to move.”

“Ok?”

“Where are you these days?”

“I’ll get you a ticket. Leave everything behind. You come here, you’re resetting. Got it?”

Kilroy looked stunned, but slowly, he nodded, then said “Ok.”

2 weeks later, Kilroy was stepping off of a plane. Here, he connected with Dennis. A man, who through Kilroy’s adventures in the blind stupor of violence and crime had crossed paths once before. Dennis got Kilroy acquainted with his new surroundings. They pulled some jobs and he learned what it was to be more in control of his actions. Azrael remained dormant. But he still didn’t feel at home. After some time, Kilroy bought himself a bike and made his way up north, arriving in the desert community of Sandy Shores.

Here, he met his new family. The Sinister Sons MC. Kilroy first met the Sergeant at arms, Miguel, who brought Kilroy into the fold, gave him a chance, and the bonds of brotherhood began. He would become connected to Thor and Michael, the clubs president and VP. He’d become the prospect of the club’s Enforcer Damian, and he worked hard, always doing his best to impress and do as he was told. It was through this process Kilroy began to find himself again. The bonds of family that he had so desperately been searching for were finally beginning to take hold.

Here, he learned to ride in formation. To show up for anything his brothers needed him for. To listen when he was spoken to and to keep his mouth shut when he was not spoken to directly. His military background taught him discipline, but these men taught him loyalty in a way he couldn’t ever replace. His first arrest, he stood beside them in a conflict with a street gang. This conflict would escalate into a war Kilroy had never experienced. A street war. Fought unlike any of the pitched battles of the great world wars. With disrespect that resonated with every assault.

As with all conflicts, the end soon came, and with it, one of the most shattering things Kilroy had seen. The club bifurcated. Half of the active members left in favour of starting anew elsewhere. Those who remained presented the then prospect Kilroy with the voice to either remain or walk away. To Kilroy, the choice was simple. Stay.

Soon after, he was given his patch. He would then help train 2 more prospects, Henry and Martin. Not as their sponsor, but as their brother. The three men would become the new backbone of The Sinister Sons. Supporting their President and VP. But under the surface, Azrael was beginning to stir. The calm and rest he had been afforded was beginning to give him back power.

A few months passed and Kilroy took on his first prospect as her sponsor. Her name was Imogen, and they began having an affair. The affair would give rise to Azrael at last and the Fallen Angel of Death would awaken once more. Controlling Kilroy and this control would lead to him almost murdering his prospect. In a fit of lost control, Azrael hacked Imogen up with an axe. Kilroy returned to his senses at the clubhouse, only to be called out to the scene. Here, he found Mike and Imogen as well as some associates of the MC, The Lux Boys. They told Kilroy what had happened and pointed out his hat, which was on the scene. Kilroy had no memory of this, but when Imogen came too, she told them what had happened.

In a panic, Kilroy begged for his life, and that someone could free him of Azrael. He never meant for the spirit to become so strong. A woman named Summer was then called upon. It turned out, she was the daughter of Azrael’s brother Lucifer and his consort Lillith. The Demon daughter managed to seal away the Fallen Angel and Kilroy, for the first time in a long time, began to change again. His skin and muscle recoated the exposed bone of his skull. His hair grew back and so did his beard.

But he would forever now carry the highlighted tint of white brought on by the stress to his body from Azrael.

Kilroy felt truly thankful of Summer’s work, and sought to chase her heart. He took her on a few dates, and was beginning to feel he had found a real relationship. He did not expect what would come in the wake of Azrael’s work, and when Summer broke his heart, he sank into a grim depression. He was all business, all the time. But this wasn’t enough. The club couldn’t overlook his actions at attempting the murder of his former prospect, now the club’s treasurer.

For the first time, he was faced with his own mortality. A meeting with Mr. Mayhem.

The vote was not unanimous, and this spared his life. But it wouldn’t save him from his Brother Martin.

Some time would pass, and Kilroy would be mostly at peace. He still continued his usual ways of flirting with any woman with a heartbeat, but this would bring someone very special into his life. Through Jager’s friend Leprechaun, Lily came into his life. A quiet woman at first, she would become his newest obsession. This beautiful woman who brought true joy to him. Even while being forced to wear the prospect patch once more, she was there and throughout his time, he would fall in love with her.

He would try his hardest to be there for her, but would be so often taken away to work for his club. And all the while, he would be fighting to hide his curse. And it was in this process, Azrael would regain his strength. It was now that the club hierarchy would change. Jager would take over as president, and Mike would become his VP. All the while, Kilroy would be serving his club as best he could.

But it seemed at every turn, Kilroy would lose more of himself and to Lily, he was growing distant. The club consumed him. And his heart was clouded by the darkness of Azrael’s attempts to escape. Until at last, He woke up. The flood gates exploded. Kilroy was gone and Azrael returned. And in this came to light the worst of Kilroy’s choices.

Including the revelation of Kilroy and River’s illicit affair, and the child she now bore. This child, Azrael’s child.

Martin decided to take the justice of the club into his own hands. He took Kilroy into his own home and shot Kilroy in the head. He then dragged the seemingly lifeless corpse out to the Alamo sea and dumped him. But as he sped off, Azrael took over the body of Kilroy once more and saved the dying man.

Kilroy couldn’t remember the events, in fact, he was unaware that his then pregnant consort Rivers, was even pregnant with their child. As time would pass, Kilroy would prospect for his own club a second time. And he fought hard to earn back his patch. In that time, the club had taken on new members, including a rather charismatic bastard named Jager. Kilroy would earn back the patch, but in that time, Rivers would choose a brutal method of aborting her and Kilroy’s child. Cutting her stomach to end the half demon’s life.

This triggered Kilroy’s rage and he struck her. Angry and hurt. And out of Control.

The decision was made to call, once again, upon Summer to attempt to banish the angel once and for all. They took Kilroy to a secluded location. This spot was where Summer had previously performed all manner of witchcraft, and where her power would be at its strongest. This final ritual set him free.

Things would not remain simple or even clear for Kilroy. His loyalties would drive his love from his arms. Lily, now pregnant with Kilroy’s children, would leave him in favour of being away from the man he had become. Kilroy would try to win her back, but would turn his attention away from her for the time being in favour of working on himself and his connection to the club.

But new troubles arose when Jager took control of the Sinister Sons. He began slowly taking away all of the responsibilities of his high table members and making the work of the Sons the task of being his private army. Not the free bikers they were meant to be. This action would drive Kilroy away from his own brotherhood, and 2 of his closest brothers would die in the time. Kilroy knew there was only one way to send a message to the club about the path they’d chosen. He threw down his kutte on the table, and drove his knife through the Reaper. The patch that was his life, his family, his Home. On the knife was affixed a note:

This was my family. This was my home.

Kilroy rode out that day, and went to see his old brother and friend Mike. Mike and Thor had both left because of the creature Jager, but they’d all remained friends, as brotherhood doesn’t end when one walks away, it only ends in death. Kilroy talked to Mike and they agreed to see what future they could forge together.

Kilroy then decided to return his keys to the compound and clubhouse. He wouldn’t need them anymore. But as he entered the compound, he was greeted by his brothers who remained in the Sinister Sons.

“Jager is gone, will you come back?”

At first, Kilroy struggled with this choice. He wanted to return, but he wasn’t sure this was what was best. He looked into his brothers eyes, and saw in their faces the light that had gone missing so long ago. He smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I’ll come back brothers.”

He wore the patch. He took on the role of Tail Gunner and carried his brothers as best he could. Helping them through every crisis and event. But when they began to disregard his words, he once again thought of the bigger world beyond. His ol lady had come back to him now. Lily, now several months pregnant, and with twins no less, was once again his. And he was approached by his Sgt at Arms about opportunity elsewhere. It was this decision that lead him away.

Now he seeks the new home for his charter. Because to him, his family’s future is paramount.

True Sinister Son Forever.

[issaxcharlie]

Always You

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Summary: {We Play Pretend Series} Charlie decides to stop overthinking and finally proposes to his best friend at his very own way.

Songs Used: Black and White by Niall Horan and I’ll Follow You by Echosmith

Word Count: +2k

Charlie finally finishes preparing the fire as Y/N comes out of the tent in his orange hoodie, one of his bandanas adorning her high ponytail. Her dazzling smile blanks him for a few seconds, and the day he asked her to be his girlfriend for the first time appeared on the back of his head.

He was maybe even more nervous than he is right now, and he blurted out the question without realizing it. It wasn't until Y/N jumped into his arms and pressed her lips against his that he finally understood what was happening. That day was the happiest day of his life, but then it was overcome by the day their paths crossed again, then by the day they became a couple again, then by the day they moved in together, and if everything goes well, now it will be overcome by this one. He smiles fondly at the memories. One thing is for sure, with Y/N everything always gets better.

She sits next to him, reaching out to sink her face into her boyfriend's neck. When he suggested for them to take a little camping trip before they returned to Canada for the holidays, she said yes without hesitation. First of all, because she loves to experience moments like this with him. Memories of all the times they camped in the Gillespie's backyard when they were children lighting up her heart. And secondly, because she knows that he needs the peace and calm that being here gives him, after all, she has no doubt that Charlie has planned to propose to her during the trip back home.

“Did you enjoy the day? I know you wanted to rest before the trip, it means a lot to me that you agreed to come.” He confessed while wrapping his arm around her, lifting the hoodie slightly to caress the sensitive skin on her waist.

“Char, we spent hours blasting our favorite albums, we elegantly ate ridiculously delicious gas station hotdogs, you spilled the soda down your pants which was quite entertaining, and now I'm under the stars by your side on a beautiful night. If you ask me, this is the perfect day.” She declares without hesitation, raising her head a little to give him a soft kiss in his jawline.

Charlie blushes, happiness flooding his soul just as always with his precious girl. “I couldn’t agree more. Everyday I get to spend with you is a perfect one.” She smirks at his words, her raised eyebrow indicates she's ready to fight him.

"Oh yeah? Even the time I convinced you that Santa was obviously born in Canada and we searched for his house all over the city?" He snorts thinking about two really small ten year olds doing mischief around the town.

"You had very convincing arguments. Shame our parents didn’t think the same and punished us for a month."

“It’s not really punishment if we get to spend it together anyways.” Y/N added, remembering all the hours of fun they managed to have in the Gillespie’s leaving room.

"They had no other choice, we were attached by the hips. I mean, we tried to elope and live in the park a year earlier just because we were sick of saying goodbye every night.” Charlie reminds her while breaking into laughter.

“Mom had to convince us to come back, telling us that one day we could get married and be together in a way nicer place than the park. And you didn’t believe her because what could be nicer than the park?” Y/N recalls, the image of their 9 year old selves swinging with their backpacks full of important prized possessions like Charlie's collection of rocks or Y/N’s toy microphone making them laugh.

“She had to explain to me everything about that marriage thing she was talking about on the way home.” Charlie says with a smile.

“And then you propose a few days later in your backyard, with a red ring pop and a beautiful original song you played on your guitar.” She hugs him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I was nine, I'm sure it wasn’t beautiful. It probably didn't even make sense. But, I wrote it with a lot of love, just for you to eat the ring five minutes later.” He calls her out, sticking out his tongue in a playful way.

“And I’ll do it again.” He pretends to be offended but Y/N just needs to kiss him and whisper that she loves him against his lips for him to smile again. “We were quite intense children, huh?”

His eyes light up, and he winks cheekily. “We still are.”

Charlie gently kisses her hair and gets up to take his guitar, meanwhile she sits a little further away from him to give him enough room to play, and he tries to control the shaking of his hand while playing a soft sound he has been working on.

Once he finally calmed down a little, he starts to play the song he drove so far away to play, deciding it’s time. “That first night we were standing at your door, fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you. Ask me if I want to come inside, 'cause we didn't want to end the night. Then you took my hand, and I followed you.” Y/N had never heard that song before, which immediately surprises her because they live together, how come she never heard it? She puts attention to the lyrics and realizes he is talking about the night they became a couple again, after the Stand Tall presentation.

“Yeah, I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standing in your dress, swear in front of all our friends there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.” Then everything clicks. How nervous he has been all day, his "sudden" desire to camp before the holidays, the eyes full of emotion with which he has looked at her all night. And suddenly this day is even more perfect than she ever believed it could be.

“Now, we're sitting here in your living room, telling stories while we share a drink or two. And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind, we're 65 and you ask when did I first know?" Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, the purest smile she has ever had stuck on her face. “I always knew.” They whisper at the same time in a broken voice, Charlie trying very hard not to cry at their matched answer so he can finish the song.

“I want the world to witness, when we finally say I do. It's the way you love, I gotta give it back to you. I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.”

He finishes the song, puts down the guitar while taking a deep breath and kneels carefully in front of her. “It has always been you. It was you when we were 8 years old and only you could borrow my best crayons, It was you when we were 16 and I learned to drive because you had no one to take you to your auditions, and It was you when we were 22 and I asked you to move in with me because I couldn’t stand be apart from you again. You are the only one with whom I feel as ecstatic as when I jump into the sea, and all you have to do is look at me to achieve it. You are light, Y/N. This beautiful bright star that for some reason, always chooses me. I love you so much, beautiful. You are the love of my life, It will always be you.”

She can't stop the tears falling down her face, her hand lovingly caressing the cheek of the man in front of her. "Y/N Y/L, will you marry me?" She doesn’t give him time to react and joins their lips hard, trying desperately to make him feel everything she is feeling in those moments. He responds fervently, taking her with one hand firmly by the thigh while with the other caresses her neck, confidently putting his hand inside the hoodie.

She bites his pouty lower lip to smoothly slide her tongue, and he strokes her breasts gently before removing his hand from the collar of her clothing. When they finally separate to breathe, Y/N's eyes move to what Charlie is holding in front of her, a precious ring dangling from a golden chain that she has apparently been wearing as a necklace for who knows how many hours.

“Yes, yes, yes. I would always choose you Char.” Y/N gets up and helps Charlie to his feet, only to pull him close and bring his body against hers, her hands entwining in his hair while his arms wrap around her hips. His face shining with happiness. “The necklace was a smart move. Since when have I been wearing it?” She asks while staring deeply at his dazzling green eyes.

“You are unable to keep a ring on your finger for more than three days, there was no other option. I put it on after you fell asleep on the road.”

"This is the first time you managed to fool me. I totally thought you were going to propose in Canada."

“I know it wasn't glamorous but-”

“Shh, it was perfect. The song is beautiful, the ring looks just as I always dreamed of and you are all I want and more. I have never been happier. Heck, you could have asked me this morning while we were in our pajamas watching cartoons and I would have cried with joy anyway. Char, you're everything I need.” He kisses her deeply, releasing all the emotions that had had him stressed throughout the day, enjoying the company of his future wife and the way that only she knows how to melt him.

He lets go briefly to search something in his phone, and the melody he just played starts to fill the comfortable silence.

“It’s my favorite song already.” She whispers against his lips, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all yours, just like me.” Both laugh at how cheesy it sounded, dancing in each other's arms under the stars. Silently thanking God for having found their soulmate in this life.

Although he swears he has enough energy to dance the night away, after an hour Y/N notices just how tired Charlie actually is, and drags him to the tent to get some rest.

“Baby, I’m okay. I want to celebrate all night with you.” He whispers in her ear, catching her by the waist the moment she leans his head against the pillow to prevent her from getting up.

“Easy there, tiger. You can't even keep your eyes open. You drove nonstop for hours without complaining once just because you know I don't like driving. You did the hardest work with the tent and the fire, plus all the time we spent hiking. You need to rest.” His grasp on her loosens and she moves quickly to his side. He turns over his shoulder and leans on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She smiles at the sight and starts to softly play with his curls while singing him to sleep. “I fell in love at first sight, green eyes that fix it all. Your heart, it feels it all.” All the times she seeked the comfort in his beautiful eyes during the years replaying in her head. The way they shined with love and confusion that first day at the jatp bootcamp replaying in her mind.

“And I, I can't believe that you're mine.” She lets go of his hair to admire the ring around her neck with more attention, but his hand instantly reaches for hers and puts it back on his hair, making her chuckle. “You take away every breath. I can't believe I'm still speechless.” She whispers, planting small kisses on his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as she wraps him in her arms.

“Charles Gillespie, It will always be you.”

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15 @magnet-girl @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05 @twist3dtinkerbell @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01 @lunashadow6955 @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner @calamitykaty @owensgoathat @magicalxdaydream @sunsetcurvej @ss-tipton @rangerelik @badwolf00593 @fobobozobo @justalittleweirdoo

[thoushallnotfall]

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 13

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: Sorry this took a minute to get out guys; it’s been a busy week! 

God so much happens in this update. We literally jump through like 3 years. 👀

Okay, so I'm changing some history here. (I'm mean I've already done that because, well, the movie did and that's what I'm following; but we're doing it again) I know Thaler took over after Doc, but since they cut him from the movie and made it kind of look like Nikki just sort of ran things, that's the angle I'm going with. 👍 Like I've literally been planning this from the get-go so I'm not changing it now.

Warnings: None

1990

A lot had happened in the last year.

Rehab had been a success for you and the boys, and you all had managed to stay sober through the recording of Dr. Feelgood–Motley Crue’s first number one album. Nikki had surprised you all and gotten married; and while Brandi seems like a genuinely nice girl, you were just glad to finally see your brother happy and committed to someone for a change. 

Still, not everything was going so well. 

You were back out on the road touring for the new album, and the band was feeling the strain. They had never toured without booze and drugs before, and it was clearly getting to them. Not only that, there was trouble at home for Vince and Tommy, and neither of the were handling it well.

Normally, they'd party their frustrations away–get drunk, do some drugs, then find some chicks to forget their wives with for a little while–but without that outlet to fall back on, they had to find other ways to cope. Vince took it out on his bandmates–usually choosing to argue with Nikki or Tommy–while Tommy chose to either argue with Vince, or bottle up his feelings entirely. Of course, they both still cheated, but without the drinks and drugs it apparently wasn’t enough of a release for them. You tried to talk to them about it, but they both brushed you off for one reason or another. 

Vince’s growing animosity with Nikki, and on occasion Tommy, made him start to keep you at arm’s length. He didn’t have a problem with you personally, but your closeness with the other two made it difficult for him to open up to you despite your efforts to talk to him. As time went on, he just kept pushing you further away, becoming more distant, and you worried just how far he would drift from you and the others before he would just disappear all together.

You and Tommy were just as close as always–closer even, since rehab helped you get past some of your old bullshit–he just didn’t want to talk about his problems with Heather. Part of the problem was that he didn’t totally understand what was wrong; what little he would say about it was that she was being ‘weird and distant’ and that she wasn’t answering his calls, so he didn’t really know enough to talk about. 

But you also thought part of him was just too scared to talk about it. Tommy had dreamed about true love his whole life, and he found it–it had probably never occurred to him that he could lose it. Things had always gone so well with Heather; for there to suddenly be signs of trouble brewing probably terrified him. You wanted to talk to him about it–comfort him, if you could–but if he didn’t want to talk about it, you didn’t want to force the issue.

Aside from the personal problems, there was also the issue of Nikki running the show. 

When Doc was fired, Nikki had taken over trying to manage the band alone. He wasn't doing an awful job, and you helped him out as much as he would let you given his control freak personality. Still, it was the cause of a lot of the fights between him and Vince.

—

You and the boys were sitting at a table in the middle of a strip club, drinking waters and looking miserable. A waitress walks by with a tray of lemon drops, offering you the shots. They look amazing, and you can just imagine the sweet and sour shot burning down your throat, but none of the boys had drank this tour and you weren’t about to be the first to fall off the wagon. Nikki sends her away with an order for another round of waters–Vince looking less than pleased. Trying to escape the tense atmosphere, you glance over your shoulder to look at Tommy. 

He was standing at the payphone, looking upset as he talks into the handpiece; Heather must still be dodging his calls. You stare at him a little longer–watch the frustration and confusion on his handsome face–and even though you should be happy that things weren’t going well, you couldn’t help but hurt for him. You didn’t want Tommy to be unhappy, no matter what the reason behind it.

“They’re keeping us on the road–15 new days in Canada.” Nikki says, bringing your attention back to the table.

“I haven’t seen anything about any new days.” Vince says, looking annoyed. Uh oh. This would end in another fight if Nikki wasn’t careful. 

“Check your itinerary man.” Nikki replies.

“I would, but apparently someone doesn’t think it’s important to let the lead fucking singer know what the fuck is going on here.” Vince snaps.

“I’ll get you a copy of the new itinerary Vince.” You reply, trying to deescalate the situation. Just then, Tommy plops down in the seat next to you.

“Guys I fucked up. Heather’s being all weird and distant and–I drank.” He says, looking ashamed. “Well, a little–I had one shot and I’m sorry.”

“I’m gonna have a fucking cocktail too man.” Vince says before you have a chance to respond. “What are you gonna do about it Nikki?”

“Okay look everyone falls off the wagon once and awhile–” Nikki replies.

“Oh fuck you man, fuck off! Fuck the rest of this tour! It is the no fucking fun tour, and I am sick and tired of not having any fun.” Vince shouts, standing up.

“Vince!” You call out to him as he walks off, but he ignores you.

“Just let him go y/n.” Tommy says as Nikki chases after him.

You watch as Nikki confronts Vince, who physically pushes Nikki away before taking a shot. Just like that, sobriety was out the window. Nikki comes back up and sits down.

“Shit.” He says, slumping in his seat.

“I’ll get him the itinerary when we get back Nikki, and we’ll sort this out, okay?” You say, trying to be supportive. “It was just one drink; he was just angry because he’s stressed out.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to send him the new fucking itinerary.” Nikki says.

“It’s fine, you’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t stress about it; I’ll take care of it.” You reply. He looks over at you.

“You probably wouldn’t have forgotten.” Nikki muses, before sighing, hanging his head. “You’re right y/n, I do have a lot on my plate–too much, probably. I’ve been thinking for awhile now that I’m not really cut out for this manager shit–that I should probably hand over the reigns to someone whose better suited to the work so I can get back to just focusing on the music.” He lifts his head to look at you. “So what do you say? You wanna be our manager?” You stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stunned.

“You guys are cool with that, right?” Nikki asks, looking over at Tommy and Mick.

“Fuck yeah dude! That’s awesome.” Tommy says, smiling over at you. Even after everything, his smile made your heart race.

“About time if you ask me; she’s the obvious choice.” Mick says, taking a drink of his water, a smile playing on his lips.

“You really want me to be your manager?” You ask, looking back at Nikki.

“Yeah. You already have experience helping me and Doc, and I mean who’s better qualified to take care of us than you?” Nikki asks, smirking.

“You are uniquely qualified for the position–you’ve got nearly 10 years experience cleaning up our messes.” Mick jokes.

“I don’t know, I made a lot of those messes too.” You reply, smiling.

“Hell yeah you did!” Tommy says, raising his hand expectantly. You laugh, giving him a high-five.

“I’m just saying; yeah, maybe we could hire someone with more experience in management–but we could never find someone we trust more.” Nikki says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been with Motley Crue from the very beginning–you deserve this–and we know you’ll always do what’s best for this band.” You had to stop yourself from tearing up.

“Okay, if everyone’s cool with this–I’ll do it.” You say, smiling from ear to ear. “But you have to talk to Vince about it too.”

“Yeah, yeah–I don’t see why he’d have a problem with it, but I’ll tell him tomorrow when I bring him that fucking itinerary.” He says, leaning back and smirking at you.

—

February 1992

The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer. You knew there wouldn’t be–Vince had become so flaky since Sharise had left. You look at the others, all looking pissed as you slowly hang up the phone.

“I’m telling you guys everything is fucking all upside down and flipped flopped and while we’re waiting for our lead singer to get his head out of his ass we’re getting left in the dust man!” Tommy says, standing behind his drumset. You sigh. “I’m just saying bands replace their frontmen and it still works okay? Van Halen–”

“I know Van Halen fucking did it cause you say that every single time Vince misses a fucking rehearsal.” Nikki snaps.

“Come on Tommy, he’s just going through a lot right now.” You try to reason with him. “Wouldn’t you be a little off your game if Heather left you?”

“Don’t even fucking say that man.” Tommy says.

“I mean, can’t you all just try and be a little empathetic for once? Please?” You ask.

“Whatever; just call the prick again.” Mick says. You sigh, making your way over to the phone, while Nikki moves over to the fax machine. You have a feeling you’re not going to be happy about the message he's about to send.

—

You’re working on some paperwork while the boys continue with rehearsal without Vince, when the blonde comes marching into the studio. 

“Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?” Vince asks, clearly pissed.

“Let’s save us all some time, especially yours Vince as it’s clearly more valuable than ours!” Nikki snaps back. You stand up and move towards them.

“You’d better tell me what the fuck’s going on man.” Vince says again.

“What’s going on is we’re down here, and we’re working, and we wanna be here, but we are tired of forcing you to be here with us.” Nikki says.

“Maybe I’d come in more if I liked the material.” Vince jeers.

“Maybe you’d like the material if you were in the studio making it with us instead of staring at your fucking watch!” Tommy jumps up and shouts.

“Woah, let’s all calm down.” You say, getting between them.

“Yeah, I’m staring at my watch because this album is fucking stupid!” Vince yells back. There’s a silence as the boys all look at each other. “You know what fuck all y’all. You know, I’m done. Fuck this, I quit.”

“Vince!” You call after him as he makes his way to the door.

“Good, ‘cause you’re fucking fired!” Nikki yells back.

“Nikki!” You shout at your brother, looking between him and Vince.

“I quit already, dick.” Vince says, walking out. Nikki slams the door behind him. You look up at him, as the room fills with a heavy silence, the weight of what just happened hitting them. Before anyone has the chance to say anything, you quickly run out after Vince.

“Vince!” You called his name through the rain, but he was already getting into his car. You quickly make your way through the downpour and jump into the passenger’s seat before he can drive off.

“What the fuck?” He looks over at you in surprise.

“I couldn’t just let you leave before we talked.” You say, your wet hair dripping water on the leather of the seat as you look over at him.

“I’m not going back in there y/n–I’m done.” He says, looking out the windshield.

“So what, that’s it? Just like that? You’re just gonna walk away?” You ask, not even trying to hide the tears pooling in your eyes.

“It had to happen sometime y/n–we all knew this was coming.” He said, still not looking at you.

“It didn’t have to Vince–it still doesn’t. I can talk to them, I can–” He puts his hand on yours.

“It’s over y/n. Let it go.” Vince says, looking into your eyes. You feel a tear slide down your cheek.

“So now what?” You ask. “What are you gonna do?” He moves his hand away and looks back out the windshield.

“I don’t know. I’ve still got my racing–and hey, I could always try making it as a solo artist.” He smiles over at you. “You wouldn’t happen to know any good managers, would you?” You laugh.

“Oh the boys would hate that.” You reply.

“Fuck’m–it’s your life, do what you want.” Vince replies. “Just think it over and let me know, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.” You reply, reaching for the door handle. You stop, looking back at him. “And Vince, I just want you to know; no matter what happens–any of the drama or the bullshit that may come from this–you’re still my friend, okay? You’re important to me, and I love you.” Vince blushes, looking away.

“Yeah yeah, I love you too–now shut up and get out of my car.”

—

1993

You somehow convince the boys it would be fine if you manage them and Vince, and things for him were going fairly well. His first solo album, Exposed, was doing moderately well on the charts. Meanwhile, you were trying your best to deal with a Motley Crue without Vince Neil. John Corabi was brought in to be the new lead singer for the band, and while he was a good singer and a nice enough guy–he just wasn't Vince.

The fans knew it too. As much as Nikki and the others tried to promote John, everyone just wanted Vince back. Of course you did too, but what could you do? The band had succeeded because they were a group of stubborn fools who didn’t know when to give up, but that also meant they didn’t know how to back down from a fight–even when they knew they'd fucked up. No one wanted to admit they were wrong and come ‘crawling back’ to the other, so they were stuck in a stalemate.

—

You were sitting at home in your office, going over some paperwork for Vince, when you phone rings.

“Hello, y/n Sixx speaking.” You say absently as you continue reading over the paper in your hand.

“Y/N?” It was Tommy. He sounded upset. You set the paper down on the desk.

“Tommy? What’s wrong?”

“Y/N, I-I fucked up man, I fucked up so bad.” He stammers. “Fuck y/n, I, I–”

“Whoa, Tommy! Calm down.” You say, clutching the phone tightly. “Just tell me what happened.” 

“There was this fucking article–someone got pictures. Damn I’m so fucking stupid!” He shouts.

“Tommy, you’re not making any sense.” After a long stretch of silence, you hear a sob come through the line.

“Heather knows I cheated. She left me y/n–she’s kicking me out.” Your breath catches in your throat. 

A rush of emotions hits you like a freight train–too many to sort through at once. Anger, sadness, pity, illation, hope, guilt; each coming one after another. Anger at Tommy for cheating again. Sadness and pity at the pain he must be going through. Illation and hope because finally, finally, you might have a chance with him. And lastly guilt, that you would even consider your own feelings now, when he was in so much pain.

“Y/N?” Tommy calls out to you, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh, oh god Tommy I’m so sorry.” You say, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Um, if, if you need somewhere to stay for awhile, you’re more than welcome to crash with me.” You offer.

“Really? You’re sure that’s cool?” He asks.

“Yeah of course.” You say. “It’ll be just like old times.” He laughs through a sob.

“Yeah, old times.” He repeats.

“You want me to come by? I can help you bring some stuff over.” You ask.

“Thanks y/n. God, what would I do without you?” He replies, and you smile to yourself.

You didn’t want to be this happy about Tommy’s marriage failing, but it had been seven years–seven long years, and you had given up hope of ever getting your chance with Tommy. 

Now, you might finally have one–a chance–and that thought alone nearly made your heart leap out of your chest. 

[thejostenator]

The Foxhole Cinema: Chapter Two

Read up to Chapter Fifteen on AO3

Read on Tumblr

There was no doubt about it- Kevin Day was sitting right in front of Neil, arms crossed and his mouth curled into a sneer. He wore a mint green polo shirt and dark denim jeans, with his iconic #2 stitched above his heart and on his pockets. Although anger and disappointment warred in his eyes, but there was no recognition.

“Mr. Hernandez spoke so highly of you, Josten,” Kevin said, confirming Neil’s suspicions that his disguise had worked. “And this is what I’m met with?”

“I’m sorry your highness,” Neil replied, “do you want me to curtsy?”

“No,” Kevin hissed, pointing a finger at him and wheeling himself too far into Neil’s personal space for his liking, “but I do want you to listen to Wymack’s offer before you turn it down.”

Hernandez nodded and opened his mouth as if to speak, but he stopped short when he saw the withering look Neil shot him. He raised his hands in defeat, and said meekly, “I’ll show you three to my office so you can discuss this whilst I open up for the day.”

“No,” Neil said, waving him away, “we have nothing to discuss. I’ll open up and take the tickets as usual.”

Hernandez shook his head. “I meant it when I fired you, Neil. This is all for the best.”

Neil scoffed, but Wymack cut off his next scathing remark. “Look, I don’t want to draw this out any longer than I have to. My offer is a full-time job working at the Foxhole Cinema, free access to therapy, healthcare, dentistry, whatever. Free movie tickets too.”

Neil almost laughed. Healthcare meant nothing to him. He’d spent years on the run with his Mother, and for whatever reason, she’d insisted they never go to any hospitals. Even though she’d died a year ago, Neil could still remember how to swallow his pain, stitch up his wounds, and drink himself unconscious. He could take care of anything, from a papercut to a bullet wound. He had a feeling if he said no outright though, Wymack would keep pressing. If he got them off his backs for a few hours, he could pack up and leave Millport behind. He’d clearly stayed too long if he was being sought out like this anyway.

“Can I have a few hours to think about it?” Neil asked no one in particular. He didn’t really care which of the three answered him so long as the answer was yes.

Hernandez sighed in relief, and Kevin nodded. “That’s acceptable. You have until the Millport Cinema closes at the end of today to decide.”

Wymack shot him a dirty look, “You’re not the one who’s meant to be setting out the terms,” he grunted, before turning to Neil, “but also yes, what he said.”

Hernandez sighed again and scurried over to the ticket booth, where he pulled out two tickets printed. The pale yellow paper they were printed on marked them as viewing for a 3D film, and although Neil couldn’t read the small black words on it, he could imagine it was for Raven King. “Can I offer you some free movie tickets whilst you wait?”

Wymack looked from Kevin, who had gone suspiciously pale, to the tickets in Hernandez’s hands. “Sure, but preferably not Raven King.”

Well that was curious, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t Kevin Day want to watch his own partner’s newest movie?

Hernandez seemed to be having around the same thoughts, but unlike Neil, he was foolish enough to voice them. “Why not?”

“Trying to avoid publicity at the moment,” Wymack said when it was clear Kevin wasn’t going to answer, “It was hard enough to fly out here without the paparazzi hounding us every damn step of the way.”

Hernandez seemed to accept that excuse and shuffled away to get different tickets, but from the way Kevin bit his bottom lip, and his eyes picked up a glassy, far-away quality, Neil doubted it was the truth. Could there be more to Kevin’s injury then he let on? Neil shook his head to clear it of those thoughts- none of that mattered because he would be out of the state in a few hours, and out of the country in a few more. He’d never been to Canada before. Perhaps that could be his next destination.

Hernandez led Kevin and Wymack towards whatever showing he had lined up for them instead, before opening the doors to let the throngs in and shooing Neil away.

“You don’t work for me anymore,” Hernandez huffed, “off with you to make your choice.”

“Not much of a choice if I only have one option,” Neil grimaced.

Hernandez flashed him a grim smile, and then hurried away to hand out tickets in Neil’s stead. Neil nodded and set off running to the apartment he was currently squatting in. He’d need to get up there, and then pry up the loose floorboard in the kitchen to get his duffel bag, which contained all his fake IDs and coded coordinates leading him to his Mother’s stashes of money across the world. It also kept safe all his clothes and the money he carried with him, as well as more knives than was strictly necessary. He didn’t see any tails as he ran, but his Mother had always taught him better safe than sorry, so he took a longer route that twisted through the heart of the city, relying on the shadows in the grimy alleyways and backroads to keep him safe.

Finally, he was back at the apartment. He removed his lockpicks from the secret compartment in the sole of his shoe and fitted them into the lock, easing them back and forth until it clicked open. It felt a little looser than usual, which was strange. Neil filed that information away in his brain as he took the stairs to his floor two at a time. Keeping an eye out for any possible threat, he strode into the kitchen… only to see Lola Malcolm sitting lazily at his table.

Lola Malcolm, who was one of his Father’s top men. Lola Malcolm, who was supposed to be in jail. Lola Malcolm, who was twirling a knife in her hand, and turning to face Neil.

“Hello Junior,” she cooed.

Neil flinched at her nickname for him.

“It’s good to see you after so long.”

“You should be in jail,” Neil spat at her, fighting to stay steady on his feet. He couldn’t run- he had to get the duffel bag or running would be useless. He couldn’t go anywhere without it.

“And you should be with Daddy dearest,” Lola chirped in her infuriating sing-song voice, “but we don’t all get what we deserve, do we?”

“What do you want with me?” Neil hissed, feeling the lockpicks in his clammy palm. They were small and thin, and sharp enough to cause some damage if dug into someone’s skin.

“I want you to come back home,” she smiled, spinning the knife frighteningly fast, “Daddy will be free in about half a year, but I came to collect you early because it seems you need to be house-trained again, ready for his return.”

“Fuck off. I’m not going with you,” Neil said.

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

Neil took a deep breath, shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and lunged.

[miss-choco-chips]

Worshiping at your altar

“He confesses how long he’s looked

for a place to worship

and, oh, you put him on his knees.”

PROFANE by Ashe Vernon

A Paladin and an artificer fall in love.

Or- how Langa learns that worship comes in more than one form.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30430242

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One of his earliest memories is this:

He sits by his father’s feet. They are in their living room, in his childhood home back in Canada. There’s a fire crackling behind him, the warmth of the flames licking his back even from the distance. His mother’s steps could be heard in the kitchen, but he can barely focus on that, utterly entranced by Dad’s stories, by the hand softly combing his hair back. He feels safe, comfortable and probably the most at peace he’s ever been. 

“A lot of people are going to get hurt tomorrow. All we can do is stand in the way of that and say, 'Not them. Me. If you need to hurt someone, hurt me'”, Dad reads. Langa’s tired eyes look up, eyes tracing the golden letters on the spine of his father’s favorite book, the tale of  ‘How the Paladin Got His Scar’. “Because the alternative is to look at someone else, someone weaker and more vulnerable, and tell them that you want them to be hurt instead of you.”

He squirms a bit in place, and Dad waits, just like every time they reach this part. He’s heard this story hundreds of times, could probably recite it himself from memory alone, but this passage is one that never fails to make him feel off. Weird, uncomfortable. As if he’s failing in some way, because…

“I don’t get it”, he says, like clockwork. Dad’s stopped reading, a single finger keeping the page bookmarked, in preparation for Langa’s usual interruption. Back in the kitchen, his mother’s footsteps fade away, as if she, too, is waiting for her son to ask. “Why do I have to hurt in someone else’s place? I don’t like to be in pain...”

As always, Dad smiles. He’s never mad about Langa’s selfishness, but, again, a five year old can’t really be expected to understand self sacrifice like this, no matter his Class. He never stops patting Langa’s head on his lap.

“It’s not about our pain. It’s about others’ joy.”

There’s usually where it stops, his curiosity sated, and lets Dad go back to his reading and Mom to her cooking. But Langa remembers something else, a new question bubbling up from him. He was in that age, Mom would say, where children stop taking everything their parents say at face value.

“But I thought us paladins were supposed to only serve a God? Why should we care about other people?”

It sounds awfully mean, he knows, but his father only laughs.

“We are not Clerics, son. As much as divine beings love us, we’re not bound to them. That’s why we have our Vow, remember? We can choose. I wasn’t forced to serve the Snow Deities, I wanted to do it. And I never regretted it.”

Langa’s frustration only grows more.

“But I don’t want to do that! To… to give...me-self…”

“Myself”, he remembers Mom calling softly from the doorway, but never how or when she got there. Only his father’s patience as Langa tried again:

“I don’t want to give myself away like that.”

“That’s because you haven't found your Worship yet, Langa. You’ll know, when you do. Because taking your Vow…”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Moving to Okinawa feels strange, in more than one way. 

For starters, it's weird to adore the Snow Deities with no snow in sight. But, to be completely honest (as he tends to be), he hadn’t felt any real pull in his nightly adoration. Not ever since his father died.

(How could he offer sincere praise to the beings that sent dad to his death?)

Still, he kept up with it. As a Paladin with no Vow, he’s taken to adoring the Snow Deities the same way a chronic smoker would use an e-cig.  Not the same, not nearly as invested, but it scratches the itch he can feel building inside him (his divinity begging for release, for reverence, for him to fall to the ground in awe) just well enough that he doesn’t go insane. It’ll be different, once he’s worshipping for real, his mom tells him. He’s not overly enthusiastic about the idea.

Something else that’s different is the quests. Official ones are offered in schools or extracurricular centers, just like back home, but he can’t even begin to imagine himself fighting his way through forests instead of frozen mountaintops. And just what creatures would he even be fighting? Snow Wassets, Kamaitachis, Wendigos… They were all born from ice, and darkness, and cold. Not exactly your native Okinawan monster.

He sighs, head resting against the car window. Watching the trees fly past as mom drives them to their new place, he starts to feel the itch under his skin again. Moving so far away had helped, the deities’ reach weak against the warmth of this land, but still notable enough to demand attention. 

It’s annoying, painful at times, and the last thing he wants to do after losing his dad- but he closes his eyes, spite burning at his core like acid, and adores.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s laying on the floor- no sword in sight, vulnerable, helpless to this person approaching him at high speed, unrelenting- but the pain never comes.

Opening his eyes, he looks up. And time stops, just like it did every time Langa interrupted his father during story time for a question. The world itself holds its breath, waiting for him to catch up.

And he stares at this boy, suspended above him. He sees his red hair, contrast jarring against blue skies. Sees golden eyes, bright and open and full of a life that seems to be avoiding him.

His senses are telling him- he’s a human. There’s no divinity in him, no godliness.

But his heart beats hard, almost pushing his chest open, and he’s breathing the air this boy left behind when he jumped over him. And he feels a spark catching fire behind his eyes, travelling down to his stomach, and nesting there in a way that suggests ‘I’m in no rush to leave’.

And he thinks, briefly- no one ever told me that Fire Deities liked to skate in Okinawa.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He learns the boy’s Class before his name. He’s an artificer, and he’s called Reki.

He thinks it means something, that he introduces himself like that, but Langa isn’t sure what, because all he can hear is an echo of his voice and the afterglow of the smile he shoots his way.

Reki becomes too much, too fast. He shows Langa his favorite invention, a magic skateboard, and he himself feels instantly charmed by the simple genius he exudes. He’s helpless as he follows Reki to the shop he works on, where he finds himself employed as well before he can even catch his bearings. Something about his divinity being harnessed for potions, and protecting the store. He’s not hearing very faithfully, but it sounds good enough that he nods. Without his weekly quests to the mountains, there’s few other ways for him to earn his own money and help support his mother. Though he can’t deny he’ll miss the thrill of it...

Then Reki takes his hand again, and he solves that problem as well.

The S circuit, an illegal quest spot. A rocky mounting, with its surrounding forest littered with abandoned buildings, chock full of all sorts of creatures to hunt, or other adventurers to spar; not for the money, or the honor, but for fun.

Fun is a weird concept for Langa, these days, but he can’t deny the thrill he feels when he burrows Reki’s sword (it's not like the other boy can use it, with his hand hurt as it is) and forces the man that wanted to bring pain to his new friend to the ground. When he’s standing up, looking down at this Rouge, hearing Reki’s excited screams getting closer and closer until the boy is near enough to jump to Langa’s arms, he thinks… that if this is what Dad felt on his quests, it’s no wonder he gave up his life in one of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s never met an artificer before, and Reki has never encountered a Paladin either. It's an experience for both of them.

Reki seems determined to make Langa a new sword, one that adapts to the training he received back in Canada but that he can use here, in S. It’s a challenge for him, he says, and Langa doesn’t mind the long hours spent in Reki’s workshop, as the boy tries new materials, different welding techniques and a wide variety of spells, exchanging questions back and forth.

Learning about Reki feels a little like when Dad taught him how to fight, everything new, shiny, a little scary but at the same time so safe. He finds out that his friend still hasn’t decided on a specialty, and that choosing one is in a way a little like a Paladin taking a Vow, and at the same time, nothing at all. They focus on a single path, do their best to become masters of it, but once it's perfected, they are free to pursue a different one. He’s secretly enchanted by the idea- the freedom of it. Or maybe it’s just Reki that makes him feel like that.

“I thought you guys just… fought for good? You know, to save people, end wars, stuff like that?”

Langa lays back, weight resting on his arms as he looks up to the stars . They are outside for a change, as Reki is trying to cast a few attack spells on the sword (as in, writes runes and splashes potions over the blade, occasionally cutting himself on it; Langa longs to take it away from him before he loses a finger), and refuses to do so in the relative fragility of indoors. The night sky is very pretty, the company is good, and he feels too comfortable for someone sitting on the ground.

“That’s what’s told in schools and stories, but reality is different”, he answers, eyes dancing between the stars and Reki’s eyes (just as bright, just as pretty). “‘Good’ and ‘bad’ are very subjective terms. What’s alright in some cultures is a sin in others.”

“One man’s heaven is another man’s hell”, Reki murmurs, stopping his motions as he thinks Langa’s words through. 

Langa nods. “Paladins- we do have a connection to the Gods, in a way. So it’s very common for us to give our Vows to them. But, unlinke Clerics, we’re not irredeemably bound, so there’s more of a choice factor. A Paladin can give their Vow once in their life, and then has to commit to it, but that we can decide who or what to Vow to is our form of freedom.”

Reki looks back at Langa then, sword almost forgotten in his lap. They were sitting quite close, now that he thinks about it, barely enough space between them to fill with a whisper. His entire right side felt scalding hot, like when he was a child back home and sat a little too close to the fireplace.

That heat spreads to the rest of his body when Reki throws his head back and laughs.

“That’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk, dude!”

Time resumes, the night moves on, Langa walks home. But the warmth never leaves his body.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Reki being an artificer doesn’t stop him from participating in quests and spars. He throws himself into them, headfirst, like he’s desperate to prove something to himself. He only ever seems to take it easy when he takes Langa with him; when he holds his hand as he walks him through the differences and similarities of adventures back home and here. Rattles out information about monsters jumping them in the woods, and statistics about the adventurers they stumble upon. He seems like a never ending fountain of information, and oh is Langa thirsty. 

He doesn't think he’ll ever get tired of hearing Reki speak. And even when he slowly becomes better at it, when the newness of the creatures crawling the forest stops scaring him and he feels comfortable enough to set loose and have fun, he still clutches Reki’s hand in his. And together, they brave whatever the fates throw their way.

It's more fun, that way.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He spends the night over at Reki’s place a lot in the following weeks. They both seemed full of excuses for him to stay, to fall asleep side by side, skin on skin. Reki’s hands, always twitching for his tools to tinker with, slowly stilling, peaceful, when Langa holds them between his.

He doesn’t realize until after many, many nights together like this- that, distracted as he was with his friend, he’d totally forgotten to praise and adore. The itch of murmuring in awe about the Deities has all but vanished from him, and its- it's a freedom he had never known before.

(Reki’s hands are smaller than his, so even when he holds them, folded and sweet, the tips of his fingers meet, like a small roof over Reki’s knuckles.

It looks like he’s praying, and he wonders if that’s why the Snow Deities had left him alone. If it’s because they see these sleeping boys, see the peace in the young Paladin’s resting face, and think- ‘this one is already lost in adoration’.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

This must be what a role reversal feels like, he thinks. Paladins are supposed to be this- this paragon of goodness, righteousness. 

But Reki is the one that, after Langa had defeated the young Sorcerer in combat, offers a hand and a smile. Even when the kid has thrown nothing but insults his way, Reki still stands straight and proud in front of him when a new enemy appears. Challenges this newcomer to a spar, to protect someone he should not be giving a fuck about.

And when the Warlock crushes him to the ground, his artifacts destroyed and blood painting the arena, he still looks Langa’s way with an apology in his eyes. 

Langa remembers when he was younger, when he wondered how someone would choose pain to protect others from it. He still can’t understand the desire to do so for a complete stranger, but for Reki-

He would brave way worse dangers than an obsessed Warlock for Reki.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s drowning- 

He’s drowning for days on end. The flame eating at his flesh from the inside has been burning bright ever since his interrupted combat with Adam, the press of his steel armor- Reki’s armor- against his chest worsening the pain. It fills his lungs, his core- doesn’t let him breath. He didn’t know that it was possible to suffocate in fire.

-but it's not until Reki walks away from him under the pouring rain, that he understands that the pain of drowning is nothing compared to the emptiness of death. That the itch to fight Adam pales in comparison to the all-encompassing desperation of his yearning for Reki.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He holds Reki’s hands under the stars again, and painful fire becomes soft warmth. It takes him back to his childhood, to sitting by his dad’s feet, head on his lap, hearth at his back, mom moving around in the kitchen.

He’s on his knees in front of Reki, but it’s the other boy the one who whispers words of reverence. He’s looking down at Langa, washed in moonlight and surrounded by divinity, and there’s defeat and victory in his face all at once.

He looks like he’s fallen, but he’s happy about it.

Langa is-

“I’ve decided about my specialization”, Reki confesses. His eyes don’t wander, his hands aren’t twitching. He looks the most secure in himself Langa has ever seen him. It fills his chest with a warm sort of pride. “I’ll become a Battle Smith. They are experts at defending others and repairing both materiel and personnel”, he continues, one hand dislodging itself from within the protective cocoon of Langa’s hold to trace the contours of his face. Langa feels it when he finds the thin scar in his cheek, from his latest spar in S. His fingertips tremble a bit as they touch it.

“Why?” he asks, because he knows Reki longs, too, for the thrill of a quest, for the joy of surviving the dangers thrown his way.

“I can always make my own weapons, there’s no need for me to make a specialty out of it”, he shrugs, as if reading Langa’s mind, “so I’m good to participate in quests myself. But if you’re gonna insist on throwing yourself headfirst into unprecedented danger, the least I can do is make sure you’ll be damn well protected against everything you can’t kill on sight.”

All air leaves Langa’s lungs, but at the same time, it’s like he’s never really breathed before this exact moment. He imagines being a worshipped Deity can’t feel all that different.

And he remembers his Dad again, his words when he first told him about Vows. 

‘Taking your Vow isn't subjecting yourself to a leash; it's not about servitude. To Worship is to feel the highest you've ever been, even while down on your knees’

Kneeling before Reki, holding one of his hands between his, feeling the other one caressing his cheek, looking up at his face outlined by the moon... it’s like he has stars at his fingertips and fire in his veins. He’s flying with it, touching the sky but standing straight and firm as well.

He’s never felt this way. He doesn’t want it to ever stop.

So he bends his head down over Reki’s hand, eyes closing in reverence and lips touching rough, calloused skin. And in the silence of the night, the words of his Vow sound as loud as if he’d shouted them.

Reki’s hand is in his hair now, like benediction, and he thinks- If falling is this sweet, it’s no wonder so many angels changed their wings for horns, their clouds for fire. 

It's just divine luck that he’s now sworn to someone who can give him both.

[captainscanadian]

Better | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Epilogue 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: You did good. No, you did better than good.

Word Count: 2505

Pairing: Doctor!Bucky x Doctor!Reader, Portia Barnes, Grant Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Death

A/N: This is it. This is the end of an era. This is the end of me writing Better. I cannot believe I actually managed to finish a fic. Most importantly, I cannot believe so many of you have taken your time to read this and to love this story and Better!Bucky as much as I do. From the bottom of my heart, I would like to thank you all. I am forever grateful for every single one of you. This one’s dedicated to @dramadreamer14​ because after the torture that I put her through, she needs this domestic, fluffy, “growing old together” kind of wrap-up for this fic. Pic’s not mine, credit to the owners!

20 years later...

New Hope, Pennsylvania was a quiet little town. No one ever knew that it had even existed. Even Bucky had only come to know of this small town until he had met you. Over the years, you had not questioned why your husband had been sending money orders to your hometown every single month. You knew the answer to that. But you also knew that a few years into your marriage, the payments had stopped. Bucky had not mentioned it to you, but you knew that they had stopped. You did not live under the biggest rock on earth for crying out loud.

When you had asked Bucky about it though, he did not try to hide it from you. He did not lie to your face in the name of wanting to protect you, even if he knew how much pain was behind the answer to your query. Your biological parents had tragically passed away after your childhood home had caught fire and burnt down. A kitchen fire, apparently. It had spread so quickly by the time one of the neighbors had found out and managed to call the fire department, that your parents could not be saved.

Bucky had believed that you had every right to grieve your parents, to feel completely free from them now that they were really gone for good. A fire accident in your childhood home, he had told you. Neither of them survived. As it turned out, your mother had left a will before her death, stating that whatever the remaining amount of money she had left in her bank account should go to the science teacher at your school. After all, she had signed a contract saying that she would cut all ties with you. Of course, she was not going to leave you that money. But it seemed as though, after all these years of never being able to be on the same page, your mother did understand you at some point. She knew that you owed your old teacher so much for that one night of shelter and your mother also owed her that much for ensuring that her only child had not frozen to death. And that was the end of that.

Portia Natalia Barnes never got to know her maternal grandparents, but she knew from a very young age that her mother had not been as lucky as she had been when it came to being the recipient of unconditional parental love. You and Bucky had made sure to let both of your children know that they were loved from the day they were born. You never took them or the responsibility that you had taken on as being their parents for granted. You were honest with them, allowing them to understand that their parents were not perfect. But they were human beings with their own flaws, who thrived to be better. You had given them the space and the openness to be honest with you too. If they ever felt like your parenting was unfair to them, they would tell you. You communicated with them to make sure that they understood the boundaries that you had set for them as their parents and they felt understood as well. You were much better parents that the ones you had.

As the years rolled on, Portia had left your nest to go off to Harvard. Having inherited her father photographic memory, she had been quite a smart kid. When it came to her going to college, she had managed to grab an acceptance to multiple Ivy League schools. Her father had taken it personally that she had chosen Harvard over Columbia, his own alma mater. But truth be told, Bucky was simply not willing to see his little girl go off to live on her own. He had been a very protective father.

While your daughter was attending university in Boston, your son was freaking out over the football tryouts at his high school. While neither you nor your husband was athletically talented, it seemed as though Grant had taken a particular liking to playing sport. Now a senior in high school, he was well under way of getting a football scholarship. Both of your children were doing well for themselves and you could not be any prouder.

And as for you and your James, the two of you had resigned from the hospital when your children were starting school. The two of you had agreed that the unpredictable work schedule that came with working at the hospital was not ideal when you wanted to be raising two children. Bucky had admitted that he wanted to be more present in their lives. As much as he had been raised by a nanny, he was against the idea of you hiring one.

But the time had been right, for Bucky’s friend T’Challa, who had taken over your in-laws’ private practice from them had sold it back to the two of you before moving back to Africa. You and James began working together as partners, dictating your own work hours to accommodate your school runs and running your own clinic at the shelter. The two of you had really built yourselves a life together, just for the two of you.

Of course, this did not mean that you did not get to see your friends at all. Every weekend and the holidays were spent in each other’s company, no matter how far away from each other your lives had taken you all. Even if you all had your own families now, you still made time for each other. In the end, you were all each other’s families and that was never going to change all that easily.

“Mooooom!” Your son whined as he made his way down the stairs, his feet stomping across the hardwood floor with every step he took until he reached the kitchen. For a seventeen year old, he was quite broad and tall. He sure had the built for a football player, towering over your height too. According to your mother-in-law, he certainly took on after his father. But you would not say that he only took on Bucky’s appearance; he had his father’s heart too. “Mom, Portia says she needs the car tomorrow but I’ve got practice. Can you please remind her that she doesn’t live here anymore and the car’s mine now?”

You let out a sigh as you finished chopping up the vegetables, discarding the scraps in the compost bin before walking over to the stove to check on the pasta.

“I told you. I’ll even drop you off and pick you up, you punk.” Your daughter’s voice echoed through the hallway as she followed after her brother. “Mom, I’m just meeting up with my friend for coffee. We have our project due after spring break and we were going to be working on it together.”

“It’s spring break. Why aren’t you taking a road trip to Canada and getting pissed drunk or something like a proper college kid?”

“It’s spring break. Why do you have practice, huh?” She asked her brother.

You turned off the stove before turning around to face your children, letting out a sigh of disbelief. “Have you two seriously forgotten what day it is?” You asked them as you crossed your arms against your chest.

They both looked at each other for a moment before their eyes grew wide in realization of what day it was.

“Oh shit-” Portia quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry, mom! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to forget, I... I’ll text my friend right now and cancel our study session. I promise, I’m not leaving the house for the whole day.”

“Sorry, mom...” Grant frowned as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the coach and telling him that I can’t make it. Family comes first.”

“As much as I’m a little disappointed that the two of you forgot your father’s birthday, I’m glad that you two are at least fighting about study sessions and football practice.” You admitted, chuckling softly. “Help me finish up with dinner and set the table? Dad will be home soon and it’s been a while since we’ve had a family meal with all four of us.”

“Of course.” Your daughter smiled as she walked around the kitchen counter to wash her hands. “I’ll roast the vegetables.”

“I’ll drain the pasta.”

“And I’ll finish up the sauce!” You announced and the three of you worked together to finish cooking before your husband got home.

Dr. James Barnes was a lucky man. At sixty years of age, he was happily married to his wife of twenty-two years. With a successful private practice and a part-time position teaching anatomy at Columbia Medical School, he had learned to keep himself busy with work while still managing to have a family of his own. He had two wonderful children who loved him dearly and were well onto becoming responsible adults. He was not worried about their future; they were good kids.

His goddaughter on the other hand though, he was worried about her for sure. “Sarah, I’m telling you. Being my little niece does not mean that you’re going to get special treatment in my class.” With an eye roll, Bucky made his way upstairs right after he entered his home.

“But that doesn’t give you any reason to be twice as hard on me, Dr. Barnes.” She told him sternly as she watched him ascend up the stairs. She walked into the dining room, her expression a little softer as she greeted you. “Hey, Aunty Y/N.”

“Hey, sweetheart... will you be joining us for dinner this evening?” You asked your beloved niece as you finished setting the table. Just as you had been a regular visitor of the Rogers-Carter household when you had first started working with Steve and Peggy, Sarah was a frequent dinner guest as your house as well.

“Do I have a choice? I have an anatomy quiz after the break that I’m supposed to study for and my professor’s a jerk. Uncle Bucky... offered to help me study tonight.” Sarah Rogers, in the way she carried herself and spoke her mind, was her mother’s daughter. But when it came to her constant banter with Bucky, she was all Steve. “I’m telling you. If I end up dropping out of med school, it was your husband’s fault.”

“This... is exactly why I went off to Harvard.” Portia pointed out as she walked over to Sarah and pulled her into a hug. “Cheer up, Rogers.”

“Wait, I thought Uncle Bucky is your professor...”

The girls turned around to give Grant a look of disbelief.

You gave him a pat on the back. “Let’s finish setting the table, baby.”

Your husband made his way downstairs after freshening up, having changed into a pair of sweatpants and a Henley. Even after years, he still liked to separate his personal and professional lives with how he dressed. When the two of you were home, you rarely spoke of work. Your children had always been your priorities.

James’ hair had a hint of grey now. But that only made him look much more attractive to you. The years had been kind to the two of you, despite a few wrinkles here and there. Your physical appearance did not matter much to you though, for your hearts were still the same? You loved each other just as much as you did that night in your hospital room and that was never going to change.

After a long-awaited family meal, the children got busy with doing the dishes while you found yourself heading up to your room for a quick shower. By the time you had changed into a pair of pyjamas and made your way downstairs, you found Sarah and Portia huddled on the living room floor with their textbooks laying wide open around them. Grant had followed their example and grabbed himself a book to read while he laid on the couch – The Merchant of Venice, which was apparently now being taught in his high school English class. He really was his father’s son.

Bucky sat in his study, reading through his emails. As you knocked on the door and poked your head through, he looked up at you with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors at this time, doll. But I’ll take it.”

You walked into the room, making sure to close the door around you. “So, this is where you spend all of your free time after... a hard day’s work and a good family meal.” You told him with a wink.

He chuckled softly as he stood up from his seat. “Well, I do think that there’s a lot more value to my time if it’s spent in the presence of my wife.” There was a teasing tone in his voice and you knew that he had caught on.

“Hm... flattery will get you everywhere, Dr. Barnes.” You giggled as you walked up to him, leaving up to quickly peck his lips. You were cautious, for you did not want the children to see you like this. “A wise man once told me that I was capable of being so much better than what life had to offer me. Happy birthday to him, I guess.”

“I think there’s still a few hours until midnight.” He said, his eyes darting to the wall clock behind you.

You reached into the pockets of your robe and pulled out an envelope. “I just thought I might give you your present a little earlier...”

“What’s this?” Bucky asked you as he took the envelope, his eyebrow raised at you as he stepped back to retrieve the letter opener from his desk. He carefully tore through the envelope before retrieving the tickets to your romantic vacation destination.

You watched as he looked down at the tickets. “A wise man also told me that if I really wanted to live like I’m in the Merchant of Venice, all I had to do was hop on a plane.”

He turned around to give you a cheeky grin. “A romantic getaway to Venice? Really, doll?”

“I think we both need one, don’t you think? Now that Portia’s out of the house and Grant will be moving out soon.” You shrugged. “We can just travel the world like free birds, just you and me.”

“I think I’d like that.” He agreed as he walked back to you and kissed you softly.

You giggled as you kissed him back, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you took in his scent. “We did good, James...” You admitted, laying your head against his shoulder and shutting you eyes for a moment. You wanted to savor this, for every single intimate the two of you shared was precious. You still saw it as a blessing, having a wonderful husband like him and beautiful children.

“No, I think we did better, Y/N.”

[moonah-rose]

First Strike

One last mini-fic before it’s back to work for me. Inspired by something @cecret-with-c said months ago about if Chris revealing himself had been more intense. It’s been a while since I wrote some whump as well.

What if Chris had done more than punch Eleanor in the face? (Sort of a sequel to Let Me In).

Once again, Michael is grateful that he was given a human suit with such long legs to help him sprint in such far strides. He’s had to do more running than he ever expected to do in the past couple of years and the only time he was ever ‘caught’ was when he willingly gave himself up, not that he counts that time as a loss.

He races across the town, ignoring the heads of the Janet babies who turn in his direction out of vague, programmed curiosity, making his way towards the most dull-looking beige bungalow on the corner. It’s the house of the grandmother no kid ever wanted to visit because all she did was sit in her armchair and forbid laughter while she ranted about the noisy ‘illegals’ living next door.

The door is closed. From the outside, there’s no obvious sign of distress. 

And of course, every resident’s home is made to be sound-proof in the interest of privacy (a feature Tahani pushed on when Janet revealed the ‘surveillance’ feature of Michael’s previous experiment. They weren’t happy about that). It explains why the others are all going about town as normal despite being close enough to hear any sort of ruckus.

He braces himself before rushing forward, finding the door unlocked as he turns the handle.

“Eleanor?” He calls, immediately. 

What awaits him inside is as bad as he predicted, furniture turned aside, a few smashed vases and torn, hideous flowery wallpaper. But at least nothing is on fire. Michael feels that’s always a plus to be counted in most situations.

He stumbles in, almost tripping over the leg of an upturned side-table. 

“Shirt...Eleanor?!” Michael tries again, looking down the hall, the house seeming like a small bull just charged through the place.

“I’m here.”

He follows the dejected voice to the living room, finding her sat on the one half that remains of broken sofa. The tiny bit of relief he feels at first to see her in once piece shatters when she raises her head up from her hands.

An uneven pattern of swollen bruises decorate her face, tearful eyes shining between the puffy lids, blood still dripping from a cut on her lip and to the side of her left eyebrow. There’s marks on her throat, her hands and where her jacket has been torn on her arm as well.

One would think Michael had seen enough beaten up humans in his existence for it to no longer affect him, but the sight of Eleanor in this state cuts deep.

“Shirt...”

She braves the smallest smile; “You should see the other guy.” She then winces, possibly regretting speaking.

“Linda?!” He still can’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense!

He’d been leaving his office to head over to Tahani’s when he’d bumped into a furious Janet, frog-marching a pissed off looking Linda in her grip. Before Michael could ask what the fork she was doing, Janet simply ordered him to get over to Linda’s house, for no other reason than ‘Eleanor is there’. He didn’t need more than that.

It was only after he’d left he smelled the blood on Linda’s hands. Eleanor’s blood. The same that is sprinkled around the room in its destruction and still leaking from her fresh wounds.

“Turns out Linda’s not as boring as we thought.” Eleanor scoffs, raising one of her blackened hands and cringing in further pain; “Fork...”

He puts aside the issue of Linda for a moment as he goes to kneel in front of her.

“Here...” He gently takes her wrists, cradling what looks to be an almost crushed set of fingers, delicately; “It’s okay...”

He snaps his fingers.

Eleanor hisses again, in discomfort more than pain this time, as the bones reset and fuse, her cuts seal up and the bruising settles down, hopefully taking the pain away with it. She lets out a deep sigh, now simply looking pained with exhaustion. 

“Thanks, bud...” 

He stays kneeling before her, eyes full of concern.

“What happened?” He asks, carefully; “Why didn’t Janet do that?”

Eleanor shakes her head, “Y’know what? It’s crazy. I don’t even remember...I just came here, wanting to try again with Linda, see if I could have a talk and understand her...For a few minutes she was just quiet, sitting and sucking on her mints while I did all the talking...And then out of nowhere...she got up and...”

She clenches her fingers on her lap, clenching her jaw to the point Michael hears her teeth grind.

“Take your time.” He tells her; “What did she do?”

“Not she...He.” Eleanor smirks again, annoyed; “Suddenly Linda was speaking in a guy’s voice...Calling me an annoying little bench, raging at me about how he got so sick of having to ‘play nice’ around me, and put up with me, when all he wanted to do whenever I opened my mouth was...Well. You saw for yourself.”

Michael takes a breath. He saw the result. He dreads to imagine what actions the clearly-not-human took to leave Eleanor looking like that.

“I just kinda blacked out, I guess. At first it was almost funny...this little old woman picking her chair up and throwing it at the radio, that was kinda neat. Then he started throwing things at me and I wasn’t ready to get out the way. And then, when I tried to call for Janet...his hands were on me and...” 

It might be more terrifying than the scene he walked in on, to see Eleanor Shellstrop this shaken and struggling to form a sentence. 

He flips the coffee table back upright and slides it close so he can sit and take Eleanor’s healed hands in his. He cages them safely in his own, rubbing them warm.

She laughs again, tears spilling; “Fork, Michael....I dunno what’s wrong with me!”

“You just took ten rounds from a demon, no one is going to judge you for not being yourself.” At least, that’s what he’s assuming. If Linda isn’t a human then angel is also very improbable, which leaves one last option. 

“I’ve dealt with ashholes on Earth trying to cup a feel when I wasn’t interested and I had no trouble handling myself or knowing how to get help. But this...” She trembles in his grip; “I was so....frozen. Like I couldn’t do anything! It was only when I thought he was gonna throw me through the window, I managed to call for Janet. She did offer to fix...” Eleanor gestures to her face; “But I just told her to get that motherforker out and somewhere secure...And I asked for you.”

She...wanted him? That causes a selfish little ball of light to glow inside of him, that he was the first one she wanted, out of the others. 

Then he reminds himself that he’s the only one out of them with magic to heal.

“You said this guy talked about having to put up with you before?”

She nods; “Yeah, I can’t remember if he was in those memories I saw...He might have been at that bar in Canada, I don’t remember. Might be the concussion.”

“Ah...I think I know who Linda might be underneath. I...put you with a lot of demons who posed as your fake soul mate and...one of them kept coming to me with a lot of complaints by the end because he was sick of it. It was only because he had the most handsome skin suit out of them all, he claimed I was being objectifying.” Michael waves off that bit; “His name was Chris.”

If he was working for Shawn to infiltrate them, posing as one of the humans, did he agree to it purely for the chance to finally get to physically hurt Eleanor like he always begged Michael permission for? He feels sick at the idea that he contributed to this in a way. 

“Well I’m glad Chrissy got it out of his system, now I know how guys really feel after having to put up with me.” Eleanor lightly jokes.

“No guy who’s been close to you would ever dream of hurting you like this.” He says that, earnestly.

Even before he changed sides, no matter how crazy Eleanor drove him, no matter how often she foiled his designs, he never wished physical hurt on her. Just to make her miserable by pranks and mind games. Nothing like this.

This was the last thing he ever wanted.

“I’m so sorry, Eleanor.” He brings one of her hands to his lips, “This is my fault.”

“No it’s not, dude.” She says, tired; “I should’ve waited for you to be done at Tahani’s before we checked on Linda...We agreed to do these things together...”

Damn, will he and Janet have to chaperone all the humans now until this is over, in case something else threatens them?

“I’m just pissed that we didn’t see through Linda’s whole boring schtick. Tahani even said something was up with her but I ignored it.” She groans and rubs her head.

“Does it still hurt?” Michael frowns. It shouldn’t do, if he did it right.

Eleanor shakes her head; “No...Not from the fight, just...all of this. I was so sure I could handle it but this...I wasn’t ready for...”

“Blame me. You wouldn’t be in this position if I hadn’t had that break down at the start.” Michael tells her, feeling twisted with guilt.

“You didn’t make me choose to take this on, Michael. Stop it. None of this is on you...I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Of course.” He gets to his feet and offers her his hand; “C’mon. I think we better call Shawn and tell him we’ve got something of his. And the Judge too while we’re at it.”

Eleanor looks up at him and gives a smile, then a nod, before taking his hand and standing up.

They’re half-way to the door when there’s a sudden tug on his hand.

Michael turns, frowning, seeing Eleanor standing motionless behind him. Her fingers are gripping his with such ferocity, his fingers would probably crunch if he was human, while her shoulders tremble, the smallest wince of panic on her face.

“What is it?” 

Her bottom lip wobbles, her eyes on the ajar pink door; “I...I dunno, I just...I d-don’t wanna go there yet.”

“Eleanor, he’s restrained. Janet’s way stronger than any demon, remember? And I wouldn’t let him touch you agai-.”

“I know that, dude, all right?!” She raises her volume, frustrated; “I don’t need your forking rational argument - I know that he’s all chained up and I’m safe and, whatever, because I’m a sexy badash who doesn’t get scared of anything so, fork you, this isn’t because I’m scared because I’m not! I’m fine! You’re the one who’s scared, I’m just protecting you, got it?! So lay the fork-.”

Once Michael has pulled her into his arms, she shuts up. It’s hard for her to keep babbling once her face is smothered into his chest. He waits for the resistance, to be shoved back, but nothing comes. Instead she stills, before her knees buckle, and her arms slip around his middle to cling to him. He places one hand on her neck and the other on the top of her head, stroking gently.

He just holds her tight for a moment, closing his eyes to stop his senses from seeing all the clear signs in the mess around them of what that deckhead did to her. How there’s a dent on the wall from where she was clearly thrown, or how that particular drop of blood stained on the carpet must have come from a blow to her mouth.

“Michael...Bit too tight, bud, you just fixed these ribs...” Eleanor sniffs against him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He loosens a little, still keeping her close, for as long as she clings to him. He pulls back after another minute to touch her face, searching for those green-blue eyes; “Listen. I know you, remember? No one’s aware of what a badash bench you are more than me, okay? But I also know you’re still human...And humans break, that’s what you guys do, it’s what makes you so amazing. That you can be so spunky even when you’re so stupidly fragile.”

And the more vulnerable they are, such as the small woman in his arms, the more courage they seem to hold to compensate. 

“I know how often you’ve wanted to break down when things got tough but you always had to put up a front to save face. You don’t have to do that with me, remember?” He whispers, softly, his thumb brushing a tear from her face; “You were there for me when I collapsed like a Tahani being told she has to fly economy. You trust me to be still be there for you if you do the same right?”

She sniffs again, nodding.

“It’s not just you, bud. God can’t be seen weeping, can she?” She japes.

With a wave of his hand, the blinds close and the door shuts.

“God can have some privacy. You’ve earned it.” Michael smiles at her and brings her back in again, letting her curl into him, one of her hands grabbing at his jacket; “Take as long as you need. I’m sure Janet can have fun with Chris while he waits for us. Make him sweat. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Perhaps he’ll ask Janet to have some ‘time alone’ in a quiet room with Chris, even after they’ve called Shawn and the Judge. He might not be Chris’ boss anymore but he still feels the need to offer some ‘managerial feedback’. Which is a euphemism, by the way, he plans on eviscerating the forknut.

He hears the smallest hum.

“Thanks, bud. I dunno what I’d do without you.” Eleanor whispers, still shaky, clinging onto him; “We should’ve known they’d be too dumb to use something like a Michael-suit and instead they pull a stunt like this that gives them away. Forking idiots.”

He chuckles with her, resting his cheek on her head as he keeps her close.

“They’re no match for us. Say it with me...We’ve got this.”

“That’s my line.”

“Our line.” He jostles her a little, delighted by the sound of her laughter, more so when she smiles up at him, that fire slowly starting to ignite in her eyes again. 

Michael moves a strand of her hair away before planting a kiss on her forehead. Only fair, as she kissed his cheek last time, and it had felt...oddly pleasant. 

She sighs, “Fine. We’ve got this.”

He looks down at her, feeling ready to burst with admiration. There she is. Eleanor Shellstrop. Holding it together after taking a pummelling from an immortal being. 

Unstoppable, as always. 

Better luck next time, Shawn, old pal. But try to lay a finger his humans again and there will be Here to pay.

[ladyhistorypod]

Episode 13: Only the Good Die Young

Sources:

Ryu Gwansun

History Channel

Internet Archive

Wikisource

Korea(.)net

Further reading/viewing: Pantheon, Memories of Cell No. 8 (YouTube), A Resistance Trailer (YouTube)

Brittany Murphy

Investigation Discovery

ET Canada (YouTube)

Biography, Brittany Murphy: The Mysterious Circumstances Surrounding Her Untimely Death

Rotten Tomatoes, 11 surprising things you probably didn’t know about ‘Clueless’

Buzzfeed

CNN

Alice Ball

Biography

National Geographic

Oxford Museum of Natural History

ScholarSpace University of Hawaii Manoa

Chemistry World

Click below for a full transcript of the episode!

Alana: So the title of this episode is Only the Good Die Young, right? Haley: Yeah. Alana: And I know it's a song. But that's not even true, because people are complicated, first of all, and all dichotomies are false dichotomies, even that one, because there are some true dichotomies. And goddammit that's a Hank Green quote. Lexi: Yet another episode where the Greens slipped in. Alana: Because I love one man and his brother. [INTRO MUSIC] Alana: Hello and welcome to Lady History; the good, the bad, and the ugly ladies you missed in history class. I'm not quite with Lexi. Lexi, what's the worst part about doing this on Zoom? Lexi: Dang. The worst part about doing this on Zoom is if I wanted to make cocktails and give them to you guys I would have to mail them and then the ice would melt so that would really suck. Alana: Also almost here is Haley. Haley, what's the best part about doing this on Zoom? Haley: Seeing your lovely faces. We spent like three, four years together just seeing each other every single day and that was the worst part about going to grad school was I didn't have you guys. Alana: And I'm Alana and I haven't spent this much time in a closet since 2014. Haley, laughing: Oh, shit. Lexi: That's good I love that. That adds a little light. Alana: A little levity. Oh my god Haley’s losing it. Lexi: A brief warning about the following story. This story includes police brutality and torture. If these subjects are uncomfortable for you, please skip to the next story. Archival Audio: Arirang Lexi: You just heard the song Arirang, an approximately six hundred year old folk song which is on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List. During the fight for Korean independence, protesters sang the song as a symbol of Korean spirit. We will tell the story of one of those protesters today; Ryu Gwansun, listener suggested by my sorority sister Kate. Shout out to Kate. My sister from George Mason. I love her and she suggested this lady and it was a really good suggestion. Alana: Wait it's– it's another Korean lady. Lexi: Yes. Alana: Which is the language that you studied in school. Lexi: Yes so it all comes back. And I actually had heard of Ryu Gwansun before, so I was excited to dive deeper into that story and share it with other people because every Korean teacher I ever had brought her up at some point. And if you take Korean history in a college setting, one of the days will be about her, inevitably. So every year in Korea, the people celebrate Independence Movement Day on March 1, and Koreans call this day Sam-il, which literally means three one. This annual event commemorates the protests that took place on March 1, 1919, a large resistance of Japan's military rule of the Korean people. For some context, in 1910 Japan annexed Korea without the consent of Korean leadership. Japan's rule in Korea sought to assimilate Koreans to Japanese culture. It would take a whole episode to explain this entire story and how the U. S. is involved in a whole bunch of other things, but for our purposes it is important to understand that this was like overall a really bad time for the Korean people. Korean culture was restricted, Japanese individuals moved into their land, and violent military rule by the Japanese became the norm in the Korean Peninsula. Additionally, Koreans were forcibly removed from the peninsula and taken Japan to work as forced laborers. So, as you can imagine, there was a lot of resistance to the Japanese in early 20th century Korea. One act of resistance was a protest that occurred on March 1, 1919, Sam-il. On that day, thirty three activists gathered in Seoul and read aloud the Korean Declaration of Independence, which begins “We herewith proclaim the independence of Korea and the liberty of the Korean people. This we proclaim to all the nations of the world in witness of human equality. This we proclaim to our descendents so that they may enjoy in perpetuity their inherent right to nationhood.” Obviously that was said Korean, translated to English for our listeners. This moment was just the spark that began a fire of resistance with communities across the peninsula beginning to protest the Japanese occupation. One protester was Gwansun, who had represented this moment in history for generations of Koreans and today serves as the main symbol of the March 1st movement. Gwansun was born in modern day South Korea, but of course at this time Korea was still one unified nation, so that doesn't really matter, but she was born in a province that's now modern South Korea. She was born on November 17, 1902 so happy birthday to her two days ago when this episode airs. Her father was a reform-minded Methodist and an enlightenment thinker. And in 1918, Gwansun was admitted on scholarship to the Ewha Girls’ School. It's a school that still exists today and has a long list of famous graduates. It is not to be confused with Ewha University, which is a prominent women's university in Seoul, but it is in Seoul and it is Ewha’s girls school so I can understand why people mix them up. The school, along with many others in the country, had become a hub for young activists to learn and discuss the Japanese occupation. Together, they dreamed of Korean independence, so it was very much a young people's movement, and they protested actively cheering “long live Korean independence!” Japan, noticing the schools were becoming organizing hubs for young activists, shut them down. So, Gwansun was sent back to her hometown where she continued to rally support for Korean independence among her community. The school closures were catalysts for national unity among the Korean people and ignited a wave of new activism. So everyone was like “they closed our schools, let's all get together and really start to protest.” So Gwansun recruited people to participate in protests with her on March 1, 1919. The protests would take place at the Aunae– I might be saying that one wrong, I couldn’t find in Hangul, only in English so I'm reading the Romanized version not the Hangul which is why I'm pronouncing it really badly– the Aunae Market. And soon Japanese police forces arrived and began to shoot the Korean protesters who were unarmed. And the police killed nineteen people, including both of Gwansun's parents. The police arrested many of the protesters, including sixteen year old Gwansun. In custody, Gwansun was offered a deal; if she pled guilty and outed her fellow activists who organized the event, the Japanese police would lighten her sentence. When Gwansun refused to out her co-conspirators, the Japanese police tortured her. Despite being beaten, she still resisted giving up any information, thus maintaining her role in the fight against Japanese oppression and violence. Many other women who fought for independence were imprisoned with Gwansun at Seodaemun prison. One year later, on March 1, 1920, women in the women's walk of Seodaemun prison began to chant “long live Korean independence.” The chant spread across the prison. One of these young women was Gwansun. I actually got the chance to visit this prison when I was in South Korea in 2018, highly recommend going there it's now a dedicated history museum with exhibit materials in English, Korean, Chinese, Russian, and a couple other languages. And I got to see cell number eight in the women's branch which is where Gwansun was imprisoned, and it's now dedicated in her honor and it’s set up as an exhibit for her. They had really immersive exhibits to explain her story so it was a very moving experience. After the chant, Gwansun was transferred to solitary confinement. Just two days before the end of her sentence on September 28, 1920 at the age of just seventeen, she died in prison from injuries sustained during torture. Never abandoning her beliefs, she continued to advocate in prison, writing in her diary “Japan will fall. Even if my fingernails are torn out, my nose and ears are ripped apart, and my legs and arms are crushed, this physical pain doesn't compare to the pain of losing my nation. My only remorse is not being able to do more than dedicating my life to my country." It would be another twenty five years until Korea gained independence, with Japan being defeated in World War II. Gwansun has been remembered in popular media, including in Korean films and books, and the trailer for one such film that just came out last year will be on our show notes in the tumblr, it's called “Resistance” in English, it looks really cool. I haven't had a chance to watch the whole film yet but I watched all the trailers that are on YouTube because I was just so captivated. The young actress who plays her seems really really talented so I will be watching the whole thing. Join me in watching it at some point, definitely check it out. And Gwansun is seen as a martyr for the Korean independence movement. She is still honored by Korean people to this day. A shrine was erected to her in home city. It's a really cute statue of her holding up a flag and protesting. And many scholars refer to her as Korea's Joan of Arc, but I don’t like when we compare women to each other. I really think Gwansun is Korea’s Gwansun. She is a woman who died far too young, fighting for what she believed in, and we deserve to remember her in that way. Haley: I love your note on not comparing women to women because… Lexi: It bugs the shit out of me. I just… Like, why does she have to be compared to particularly a white woman, white Christian woman. But why does she have to be compared to anyone else? She did something incredible for her people. Maybe Joan of Arc is France’s Ryu Gwansun. Archival Audio: Before you lies the most glamorous city on Earth. Hollywood, California. A city where men and women skyrocket to fame or crash to oblivion.

Haley: I'll be talking about Brittany Murphy, and with this a brief warning of death, poisoning, murder, and eating disorders. I really struggled with picking a lady today because it was either someone who recently died, which I felt very awkward talking about, or a very small child, which I just, again, mental health needed a break. However, I recently watched Clueless and there is a new ID Mystery or Investigation Discovery coming out so drum roll I had to pick Brittany Murphy. And a lot of me in remembering my deep dive of her life when she died in 2009 and she's one of the first celebrities I remember as a– like a death, like they're dying being reported, and me as a young child having that connection being like “I know who that is I've watched her movies, I've seen her, I had a connection. Also I believe it was around the time my grandfather died, so I kinda– it's been very strange. Whenever someone significant in my life has died another celebrity that had a significant impact in my life also dies around then, so that also had an impression on me. So we all know her as Tai Frasier from the 1995 classic Clueless. However, her big break actually came from becoming a regular on the sitcom Drexell's Class at age fourteen, and honestly it was no surprise that she became such a huge star because around age eight she was begging her mom to start acting, and by age twelve her mom was like “you know what, sure. Let's do this thing. We'll see what happens.” And almost immediately she was booked for gigs, and it was like gig after gig. Back to Clueless. As if - heh - I were gonna just not talk about that movie. Brittany’s character Tai is a new student who's described as hopelessly klutzy and who gets pulled under the wing of popular socialite, Cher, and once she gets that classic makeover, her popularity skyrockets. And yes, this is the movie where the main character starts dating her ex stepbrother who's Paul Rudd. Utter classic. I believe it's still on Netflix. Do yourself a favor and watch it. Alana: It’s based on Emma… Haley: Yes, yes. Alana: And at the end of Emma, Emma starts dating her brother-in-law, so… Haley: So along with the movie being absolutely iconic, it's over twenty five years old so we get a lot of like the fun facts or the tidbits being released. And honestly, not many reference Brittany Murphy. I was really surprised by that. A lot of them of course are on like Cher, being the main character, but a lot on like the director, creator and the costume designer. But for Brittany Murphy I was like oh my gosh I just have all these fun facts in my brain that I just remember from her In Memoriam reel but I couldn't find like the evidence to back it up. But my two favorite were the insult that Tai and Cher like were arguing and Tai goes “you’re a virgin who can’t drive.” Alana: Way harsh, Tai. Haley: Chef’s kiss line. Well, Brittany Murphy was actually the virgin who couldn't drive, which I thought was hysterical. And at the time I watched Clueless I was also a virgin who couldn't drive, so I don't realize like why that was an insult like yeah, what? Alana: I still can't drive. Haley: Like do you not have a license or you’re just a bad driver? Because I’m a shitty driver but I have like– Alana: Oh, my license expires in January. Haley: Oh, okay. Also the scene where she gets hit in the head with like a clog in that like house party, it was a little bit of movie magic if you will because they did the scene with like a prop and it just looked really really fake so when they went in post they superimposed a shoe or whatever like hit her, I believe it was a clog, so the movie would look more realistic. And now I really want to rewatch the movie to see if I like they got it just right with the editing. Now doing a one eighty to her death. As I said, Investigation Discovery has a new episode documentary. In the show notes, I’ve linked it, it’s free. It calls it like episode one or something and I believe it's like forty minutes long, so it's something you can do while you're building a bookshelf, cooking dinner, trying to fall asleep; that's how I watched it, please don't read into that. And the episode documentary is not necessarily on her death that she died, but investigating it as not actually an accident from the perspective of her father really spearheading this. So her father, before he died in 2019, was like “I need to investigate this more,” did a bunch of interviews on how he believes that there is a little more to the story about his daughter Brittany Murphy dying at the age of thirty two. And a lot of my notes come from the documentary or commentary from it and I'm doing a warning in addition to my previous trigger warning that there are a lot of nine one one calls and as Investigation Discovery does, it covers the tragic story without holding anything back. So if that might be a little too much, you'll have a snippet here today. A very abbreviated version, if you will. So her official death from like LA county or like the coroner there in 2010 was said to be a combination of iron deficiency, anemia, pneumonia, and a combination of prescription drugs- like heavy doses of cold medication. But originally, the report was written as a heart attack, and I believe that one of the coroners told news outlets that her death appeared natural. I just want to pause and say a thirty two year old should not have like a natural death if it was ruled as a heart attack. And even kind of with the like documentary, I was having a hard time with like which coroner said what. Maybe that was just me watching this after my stressful life just being my stressful life with work and school. I really want to watch it with you guys too. There are also rumors that she had a drug problem and an eating disorder which could have contributed to her death, but when I was reading like some news outlets and it was like the really crappy tabloids it was like “she died of an eating disorder” and like no or like if she didn't have an eating disorder she would've lived. And there was nothing to say that she did or did not have an eating disorder per se, like at that time. I couldn't find any credible sources from 2009/2010 that she did have an eating disorder. All I could find was like “Brittany Murphy is looking really skinny” and that that’s… as a person– I’ll go out and say it– who has struggled with like eating disorders in the past, I will never say this person had an eating disorder, this person didn’t. I could not find Brittany Murphy coming out and saying that she had an eating disorder. This is all speculation. Even if it comes from a doctor, even if it comes from her dad, speculation. I’m not a doctor. Before her death, both Brittany and her husband Simon Monjack believed that they were being watched by the US government, and Brittany was reportedly a witness to Julia Davis, the Homeland Security employee who called out some of the problems within the organization. So that was kind of like a part that I– people are like “oh she could’ve been murdered, taken out by the government.” And I really didn't know where to put this note in, because it was kind of like she was saying it before she died as well, and she was, I think, a little paranoid from this. Also before her death, Simon and her mother were both sick in Puerto Rico. Brittany was filming The Caller, they went along for a vacay and things just turned nasty. You get sick, that's also like just like a common thing… getting sick on vacations. However, she was reportedly fired on like the first day and some kind of like pointed to her husband causing a nuisance on set for being like drunk and such. So things are just like being very weird. Like a lot of first like the government coming in thinking that she was being followed or watched and now being on a film set and her husband causing a huge disturbance. And sometimes still while on this island, like I said Simon and her mother got sick, so much so that on the flight home, Brittany had to give her husband CPR. And someone, I believe it was Simon claimed he was having a mild heart attack. So again we have this heart attack cause of illness coming back. So of course we get to the part where Brittany now gets a little cold, and it isn't just a little cold. She gets laryngitis. Apparently she got her second period in a month, hence the anemia. A lot of list of just the dominoes hitting the fan of she was essentially sick for six weeks, which takes a toll on any body, regardless of if you were healthy before or not. And she even had a doctor's appointment for the Monday after she died and I believe she died like on a Friday night at home. So fast forward a few months to now her husband dies, of like similar causes. And this was also sketchy because not only did he die like in the same room, same bed, his death was also ruled as quote “severe anemia and acute pneumonia.” So now like bells should be ringing off like what the fuck what the fuck, this is just a few months after her. And another weird part was that there was like an alleged scandal that he also had a relationship with her mother. Things are not adding up. Just to like wrap this whole thing up, like her father said in one of his last interviews he just didn't feel right. This didn’t sit well, and he continuously made allegations against other family members, and he just really wanted to get closure on her death. And that's basically where it ends– where it’s we don't know, we just now have all this new information and people like Investigation Discovery documentary episode are just trying to put it together. Alana: That's a heavy one. Archival Audio: From the Middle Ages, down to modern times, the magic of chemistry has fascinated mankind. Alana: So I don't have a content warning for this one aside from like she died when she was young and that's hard to talk about. Alice Augusta Ball was born on July 24, making her a Leo, 1892 in Seattle, Washington. I'm gonna make that my thing that I just note the star signs of my ladies. Both of Alice's parents and her grandfather were photographers, which meant that because of like photographic technology in the late 19th century Alice grew up around the chemicals that were used for developing photographs at the time. In 1902, when Alice was ten, they all moved to Honolulu, hoping that the change in climate might alleviate her grandfather's arthritis and other medical conditions. Alice's grandfather died two years later and the family moved back to Seattle where Alice graduated high school in 1910 with stellar, amazing, incredible, top of her class grades. She earned a degree in pharmaceutical chemistry in just two years and then a degree in chemistry in four years, both from the University of Washington. She went back to Hawaii to get her master's degree in chemistry from the University of Hawaii which was then called College of Hawaii. She was the first woman and the first Black woman to get a master's degree from the university of Hawaii. She graduated in 1915 and then that fall she became head of the chemistry department. Her thesis was about isolating the active ingredients in kava root for medical purposes, and this is why Dr Harry Hollmann, an assistant surgeon at the local hospital, sought her help. At the time, the best treatment for Hansen's disease, A. K. A. leprosy, was a pill or an ointment made from chaulmoogra oil, which was derived from the seeds of a tropical evergreen tree called the chaulmoogra. So isolating these active ingredients in plants would be an excellent skill to have if you were to research further on chaulmoogra oil and cures slash treatments for Hansen's disease. She juggled teaching and research as a twenty something. And the time management skills of this woman, that within a year she had created a water soluble solution of chaulmoogra oil which meant it could be administered directly into the bloodstream and be much more effective. It. Worked. The practice for people who had been diagnosed with Hanson's or leprosy was to group them together and isolate the group. This is where you get the phrase leper colony. One of my sources called this treatment only partially effective, but holy shit! Because of Alice, those people got to go home to their families. So I don't– partially effective? No. I hate you. I don't hate you, thank you for writing something that I could read for free, but come on. Alice died December t31 1916 at the age of twenty four, after a lab accident while she was teaching gave her chlorine poisoning because lab ventilation wasn't required yet. Her work was stolen. And this you'll see when we talk about– when I talk about Rosalind Franklin in January that stolen work of women in STEM is kind of a theme for me. Arthur Dean, the college president who took over her work after she died, but basically all he did was publish it, only mentioned her name once in the publication and started calling it the Dean Method. Luckily, Dr Hollmann was like “um. No ma’am.” and actively started calling it the Ball Method, and that's the name that stuck. And this method was used until the 1940s, so for twenty years, until sulfone drugs came onto the scene, and they work better or something. I… As previously mentioned, I am not a doctor. Just a little bit about her legacy, as of 2000, February 29 is officially Alice Ball day in Hawaii which… February 29? Really? The twenty ninth? A date that doesn't really exist? Come on. The University of Hawaii Manoa also offers the Alice Augusta Ball scholarship for students majoring in chemistry, biochemistry, biology, or microbiology. They also have a little plaque for her on their chaulmoogra tree, which is just small but I think it's cute. But Alice's work basically cured leprosy. And was just like– people weren't contagious and could go back to living with their families and living their lives and just being people. And then this is one of those things like in a general sense that I'm like, how many great, incredible, fantastic, smart, brilliant minds are we stifling due to systematic oppression? because Alice was so amazing and smart and was able to accomplish all of these things as a Black woman and overcame like– every single source that I read was like this was so strange for a woman, for a Black person, for a Black woman to be doing. So like, larger than anything that she personally could have done, which I think if she had survived this poisoning or if there were… if ventilation was a thing in labs, could she have found the vaccine for leprosy? That I don’t know whether or not we have. I can't really tell. They were working on it at one point according to one of my articles, that was in 2018 and it was promising so it might be done by now. But like what are we as a society missing out on by making life so difficult for anyone who isn’t a cisgender straight white man. Like all of these amazing… Lexi: Snaps. Snaps to that. Alana: Thank you. I'm very frustrated by systematic oppression these days. It's like Covid, systematic oppression, how systematic oppression is making Covid worse in places… Lexi: There's gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Alana: There’s gonna be a Black woman in the White House. Lexi: Just to make you feel a little better. Alana: I do feel better about that. Haley: It makes me so happy. Alana: I do like that. And then her husband is the first Jew in the White House. Haley: Really? Alana: Yeah. Haley: I really wish like we could've called him like the First Doug, because I feel like that's awesome. Yeah, the First Doug. Lexi: Second. Second, because it’s a VP’s spouse. It’s the Second. Alana: Yeah, Second Doug. Lexi: A Doug that really went up the ranks. Alana: I think the vibe that is going to end up happening is First Gentleman– Second Gentleman because that’s what they do for governors. Haley: But like I want Second Doug and then like forever it just be Doug. Lexi: Oh, it becomes Doug, even after. Haley: Yeah. Alana: I like that. Lexi: Kinda love it, it's like oh the Doug. Alana: I'm not a fan of Second Dude, I don't care for that I think that's like… Lexi: Yeah I don't like that. We need like a Spouse of President. No like a SOP. Alana: SOP! Lexi: You can find this podcast on Twitter and Instagram at LadyHistoryPod. Our show notes and a transcript of this episode will be on ladyhistorypod dot tumblr dot com. If you like the show, leave us a review, or tell your friends, and if you don't like the show, keep it to yourself. Alana: Our logo is by Alexia Ibarra, you can find her on Twitter and Instagram at LexiBDraws. Our theme music is by me, GarageBand, and Amelia Earhart. Lexi is doing the editing. You will not see us, and we will not see you, but you will hear us, next time on Lady History. Haley: Next week on Lady History, it's our U. S. Thanksgiving episode, and we’re doing a deep dive into Native slash Indigenous peoples’ history. [OUTRO MUSIC] Haley: Are raccoons like ducks where you can just like pick one up off the street? Lexi: That’s not true for ducks, we talked about this. You can’t steal wild animals.

[rinnnyxr]

In 2020 so far, have you…

Had Beer Smoked an entire cigarette Done drugs. Written on a bathroom wall.

Read a George Orwell book.

Had a physical fight.

Used Twitter. Listened to Lady Gaga Been in a car accident.

Gotten suspended.

Gotten expelled.

Been allergic to something.

Got a computer virus.

Touched a real gun.

Had a dog.

Had a cat.

Been pregnant.

Camped out Swam in the ocean.

Wore a bikini. Driven a car Been sent to the principal. Ever liked someone. Failed a class. Failed a test.

Went to summer school. Got worse than a D Got A’s and B’s. Read an entire book.

Recorded my own music.

Had an xbox. Worn heels more than 3 days in a row.

Wore fishnets.

Wore skinny jeans. Hated someone.

Been cheated on.

Cheated on someone.

Practiced Christianity/Catholicism.

Worn makeup. Lied to my parents about where I was going. Had surgery.

Had my license.

Been to college.

Graduated high school. Attempted suicide.

Self-harmed.

Worn colored contacts.

Painted my nails black. Broken someone’s heart.

Had my heartbroken.

Cried for an hour straight. Lost something very valuable.

Got separated from one of my parents

Broke a bone.

Gotten stung by a bee

Eaten something bad/expired.

Threw up from being so drunk.

Saw someone throw up from being so drunk. Danced with someone of the same sex. Owned an iPod

Danced with someone of the opposite sex. Owned an iPhone.

Fell for a best friend.

Stole a friend’s significant other.

Went far away from home for more than a week.

Moved out.

Ran away.

Had a job. Been fired.

Lied to a friend. Lied to a family member. Had a Facebook. Posted a video on Youtube.

Started a rumor about someone.

Talked bad about someone. Dropped out of school. Deliberately failed a test.

Been skinny dipping.

Counted to a million.

Counted to a thousand.

Ate rabbit meat.

Ate duck meat.

Had fast food. Been to Church.

Been to Canada.

Been married.

Had a divorce.

Broke a glass.

Threw something out of the window. Ignored a text from someone on purpose. Wish you were somebody else

Had my feelings hurt by a friend and never told them.

Kissed someone Been to a concert Seen your favorite band live

Met a celebrity

Met your favorite band

Own more than 10 CD’s

-

I prefer to be out and about on weekends. I ended the last relationship I was in. If someone is playing me around, I’d rather be told about it. It really bugs me when people play games with me. Sometimes, it takes me forever to get the energy together to get out of bed in the morning. Someone has told me they like me as more than a friend in the last week. I haven’t kissed anyone in the last seven days. If I have a deadline to meet, I can’t get motivated to do the work until the last minute. I drink a lot of soda and juice. I love apple donuts. I’m going to have the house to myself this weekend. I know someone who is absolutely addicted to the Guitar Hero/Rockband games. I have a wii in my bedroom. I hate to admit it, but I feel really lost without the internet. I have a bad habit of reading texts and completely forgetting to reply to them. I’ve fallen asleep texting someone in the last few days. I love waking up to good morning texts. I’m guilty of “liking” a lot of fan pages on Facebook. It seems that a lot of people don’t have time for Tumblr anymore. I’m currently wearing a hoody. I hate getting out of bed in the mornings. The last person to text me was of the opposite sex. I have two friends coming to stay with me this weekend. I have two presentations to do tomorrow. I text a lot more than I call. I swear I need to go to the bathroom a lot more often than other people. In general, I’m quite a light sleeper. I have the latest iTouch, and I absolutely love it. I use Twitter on a daily basis. The first thing I do in the morning is to check my Facebook/texts. I hate it when people lie to me to try and “spare my feelings” - man up and tell me the truth! I don’t see the point in going out to get absolutely shit-faced drunk. ^What’s the point in going out if you can’t remember any of it the next day? I have more than seven piercings. I’m getting a new piercing within the next week. I haven’t seen my dad in over a month.

-

It is Sunday

My weekend was fairly good though

Although I had little arguments

I took a long walk today

I talked to at least 4 of my friends I didn’t have the mood to talk much

I got a headache

I slept too much I woke up after 12 p.m

I went to sleep late last night I talked to my boyfriend I also talked to an old friend I didn’t talk to him for 3 years

It’s November

I’m waiting for December I am working out sometimes I just finished a book a few days ago

I am searching for a new book to read

I like walking at night with someone I am going to sleep after 12 a.m I am not sleepy yet Music was a big part of my life this day

I took a photo I recorded a video of myself I updated my blog(s) I always use Tumblr I have another account here It’s my personal account I didn’t play any video games today

It is a short survey

I drank tea

I am now in the chair

My sibling is in the same room as me I am not home alone I am already in my pajama It’s almost 1 a.m

I wore at least 3 outfits

I cussed someone out I left the house at least 2 times

I already took a shower

My vocabulary is weak af

I am not in any clubs in school I don’t like being in school I want to get a tattoo

I know what I am going to get

I am not planning to stay in this country

I speak English/Spanish/Hungarian daily I write in English/Spanish/Hungarian daily I spent money on something today

I have plans for the next summer

I have plans for the next year in general I support a soccer team

I am in a sport team inside/outside of school I am 16 years old

I am a junior

I drink a lot of water My phone has a phone case I want to get a new one

I am quiet And shy But not with my close friends I was happy today I want to keep this blog for a long time I haven’t eaten in 3 hours I am going to sleep now

-

You’re not in your home country right now. You wish you were somewhere else right now. Italy is your favorite country. You’re able to speak more than 3 languages. You’d love to be able to speak Italian perfectly. But never had the opportunity to learn it. You’re single. The last person you argued with was a family member. The argument was about something really stupid. Most of the time you don’t give a shit about anything. That’s why you don’t really care about what you’re arguing about. But it often seems to be important to your counterpart. Your family doesn’t understand you at all. They don’t respect you and your attitudes as well. They often make fun of you and your plans. That’s why you decided not to tell them anything anymore. All your grandparents are still alive. You get along best with one of your grandma’s. Your family is a fan of family reunions. You think Marina is better than Lana. You don’t listen to any of the bands that are popular on tumblr. Tumblr has actually drawn your attention to a band you’re now obsessed with. You think gay marriage should be legal. You actually understand why people are against gay marriage. But you don’t support their opinion anyway. It’s just that you’re good at empathizing. You wish you could read peoples’ minds. You’d prefer another super power. You’ve never watched the Avengers. You’re not an English native speaker. You wish you were. You suffer from some kind of mental illness. You know someone who does and you’re close to them. It’s a family member. You wish you could change something about yourself. You’re confident with your body but not with your personality. You’re confident with your personality but not with your look. You’ve never heard of “Reamonn”. You hate the Arctic Monkeys. You love The Neighbourhood. You dislike Lana del Rey. But her music is perfect. You’ve never heard of “Hoobastank”. You’ve been to an opera before. Someone you know has killed themselves. You’ve never been to Paris. You’ve never been to Berlin. You’ve never been to Venice. You’d love to visit one of the above. You’ve dated the same person more than twice. He’d dumped you every time. Someone has picked on you in kindergarten. They also hurt you physically. You’ve never told an adult. You used to be an outsider in elementary school. You were actually pretty “popular”. You liked all your elementary school teachers. You don’t know what you’re going to do with your life. You think everything will turn out fine. Someone in your family is/has been (seriously) depressed. Someone in your family is/has been suicidal. Something is holding you back. You have never cried in front of people. You have cried in front of others to get attention when you were older. You’re an only child. You’re the favorite child. You think every parent has a favourite child. Just like every child has a fave parent, deep down. You don’t know who’s your favourite and you don’t wanna know. Someone always calls you when they’re drunk. You’ve never been drunk. You’ve never smoked weed. You think smoking is attractive. You think skinny people are disgusting. You hate talking about your weight. Someone has called you fat before. Someone has called you ugly before. Someone has called you anorexic before. A family member has said such things. Someone has called you cold hearted before. You think that’s not true. You’re a very social person. You don’t understand why people always hurt each other. You think it’s inevitable. You hate the last person you talked to. You love the last person who texted you. You’re currently mad about someone. You often apologize. You think some people are meant to be on their own You think everyone has a soul mate. You need to get things clear with someone.

[aph-honk-kong]

Draw A Circle That’s The Earth, I’m In Hetalia - Review (Chapter 2)

Eight months ago, @hetafic-hell published a review of chapter one of “Draw A Circle That’s The Earth, I’m In Hetalia!”. I decided to write a review of the second chapter, since they’ve been on hiatus for so long. But before I begin, I must offer a warning: this chapter is five thousand five hundred words long, and is not divided into any paragraphs. It’s also awful. Proceed at your own risk.

3 months later.

It is not possible to show the passing of time through the story instead of putting it down explicitly?

I'm at a different meeting hall my nation had all its citizen's return to Serenia only recently and now every one of my people except my army have been turned into pictonians 

What army? I thought the only reason Serenia was bombed in chapter one was because it didn’t have one. 

Australia brought me in a helicopter and now me America, England, Italy, Germany, China, Japan, Russia, France, not that anyone noticed except me Canada 

And there’s the “nobody notices Canada” trope.

and thanks to my knowledge of the 'paint it white' Hetalia movie Scotland and Australia are now in meeting about the pictonians I gave Canada a note saying 'go to Cuba, combine forces temporarily and take care of the injured 'he ran out of the room without anyone noticing.

You’d think that someone being told to leave an important meeting to leave the country, meet with someone who hasn’t been mentioned up until now and form an alliance to save their nation’s people would at least announce their departure.

"Dudes, this is an emergency! As the paper thingys in front of you with those crazy drawings that are supposed to be word says, the race of humanity has been taken over by nopras thingsmabobs by that crazy beam of light that comes out of the light bulby thingy that comes out of their head."

...what?

Alfred said while everyone was doing their own thing Francis blowing a kiss to the maid, Yao yawning, Arthur, Kiku, Ivan and Ludwig listening, Allistor smoking, jack playing with his koala, bub and Feli drawing faces on the pictonians pictures. "Nice one, Feli" I giggled "thank you, Kaitlyn! How are-a the puppies and-a cubbies?" he asked "they're fine they grew 60 cm!" 

What an intriguing conversation. Why is this happening again?

then I turn my attention to the meeting and open the folder "Tony my righteous alien friend dude told me they are pictonians from the planet Picto. Like for real dudes. Picto is in like way far out in space." He continued "your brains in way far outer space" Arthur exclaimed "hello! Listen up! We can't let these nopras dudes make earth all freaky and boringly white! This is whack! We gotta stop these dudes! Also what's a nopras?" Alfred asked after a good little speech "it's a Japanese monster without eyes, nose or a mouth; its proper name is inotraple." I spoke up everyone looks at me then Arthur says "wait a tick does that mean this is all your fault japan?"

Why would any of the nations believe Serenia? Even if she explained that she figured it out from the “Paint It White” movie, she’d have to tell them how she came across the movie, either proving that she’s not from this universe or making the nations think she’s gone insane.

"Hey I only said what I learnt from japans old stories and he hasn't said a single word so it's not his fault." I defended while standing up "why the hell do I have to be turned into nopra, because of stupid japan and his scary story" Yao snapped I sighed and sat down and looked at the pictonians pictures I giggled and whispered something to Feli then we both giggled 

So she went from defending to sighing to giggling in a span of what, a minute? If Kaitlyn is so protective of Japan, why doesn’t she defend him when China speaks up? Why does she just sit down and start having another inane exchange with Italy?

"what is so funny, kaitren-chan?" 

Please no, not the Wapanese.

Kiku asked I smiled and said "is it just me or do these guys look like telitubies? Come on I can't be the only one thinking this" "Hahaha! Good one Kaitlyn!" 

This chapter is supposed to take place three months after the former one, and the last chapter ended in the middle of WWII. There is no way any of the nations would know about Teletubbies, which is a show that launched in 1997.

Alfred laughed then said "anyway, focus countries! Japan may have screwed things up but we still have time to fix it! Your ideas will all suck, so listen to me! We will combine all of our military strengths! I'll be in command so you'll have to wear the colour of my flag! All heroes wear red white and blue! And Kaitlyn?" I look up at him "yeah?" "I'll make sure you're safe by you and me sticking together! I'll be your hero!" he said as he winked at me I blushed furiously

The awful dialogue aside, I thought Kaitlyn was shipping herself with Holy Rome last chapter, to the point where she kept him from dying. Does she have a new fictional husband now?

"wait who in god's name put you in charge and why the bloody hell should Kaitlyn go with you?" Arthur yelled "duh, because I'm the hero everybody knows that and Kaitlyn needs a hero" Alfred replied "ohnohnohnohn! But I think Kaitlyn should come with me and not you" Francis said in all his creepiness 

France literally hasn’t done anything creepy, he just suggested Kaitlyn stick with him! Oh wait, I forgot the writer just wants to shoehorn in every trope imaginable into this fic for no reason at all.

"you keep your filthy perverted hands of Kaitlyn, cheesy monkey!" 

He wasn’t being perverted at all! #ProtectFrance2020

Arthur yelled "shut up, black sheep of Europe" "I told you not to call me that" then Arthur and Francis started fighting, Feli tried to hand out his white flags, Yao was arguing with Alfred about which country made the most popular movies, Ivan was releasing a purple aura, Ludwig was trying to stay calm and me I stood up and sat with my pups and cubs petting them as they slept

You’re telling me these baby animals are casually sleeping through a group of adults having multiple loud arguments?

'what am I going to do? Everything's just so crazy. Everyone is a lot more extreme than I thought, they act the same and yet they act different. 

How on earth does one “act the same yet act different”?

When I was in my world, everything seemed so easy. [Sigh] I guess not' "kaitren-chan." 

Spare me.

A voice brought me back noticing Kiku was in front of me "what's wrong, Kiku-san?" "I wanted to thank you for defending me earrier, arrigato" 

There’s no reason why Japan would thank Kaitlyn in Japanese when the rest of his sentence is in English, and that’s not even how you spell it.

he bowed I smiled then boom! I jump and my pups and cubs start barking and roaring 

I can guarantee you that baby tigers cannot roar.

I calm them down by speaking Serenian. I wait for Germany to stop yelling before heading to the doors "Kaitlyn? Vhere are you going?" Ludwig asked "I'm going to protect my country. I suggest you all do the same." Then I walked out of the room. 2 hours later. 

Where are they? Assuming they’re not in Serenia, it would take Kaitlyn quite a while to get home, especially since they’re in a time of war. She definitely wouldn’t be able to reach Serenia in two hours.

I'm standing with my army of 1,000 women and men armed with guns and arrows, 

How are they going to shoot the arrows without bows? 

I'm wearing a long flowing white skirt with a long slit that reaches 10cm from the waist, my black cloak, 

A flowing skirt and a cloak are not at all practical for war, especially not a skirt with a slit. She’s going to get strangled with her cloak or trip over herself, mark my words.

a gold staff with a gold crescent at the top the staff was an inch above my head my height is 1, 80, 

A few things to address here. First, isn’t Kaitlyn fifteen? How can a fifteen-year-old be that tall? Second, there’s no way that staff would do any damage, especially in a twentieth-century war when so much technology was developed. Gold is expensive as hell, too, so how could she make an entire staff from it?

I had a black camisole on and had gold two gold bracelets on my left ankle, one each on my wrists, a necklace with a silver water lily pendent and a gold necklace that fit on my head so that the crescent moon pendent was positioned on the centre of my forehead and I wore no shoes just bare feet. 

No way someone can run or fight properly while wearing heavy gold bracelets, a silver pendant, a gold headdress and no shoes. You’re fighting in a war, for goodness’ sake, your feet are going to be severely hurt if you don’t wear anything on them.

"When the enemy comes show no fear and if the enemy shoots dodge then strike!" I commanded my cubs and pups were beside me growling. 

You took your defenceless baby pets, the only Serenian native animals left, to a battlefield?

The earth started to shake a little "get ready!" I yelled the pictonians ships were in sight "FIRE!" I yelled my army fire their guns and arrows but they just turn all wiggly and white "crap!" I curse then the pictonians shoot the flower blossom beam me, my pups and cubs run and dodge the beam

Without being trampled to death by the rest of the fleeing soldiers, and fast enough to dodge the beam despite being, again, babies? Fat chance.

my army wasn't so lucky they got hit with the beam, then they started to stalk towards us "Kilala! Sesa! Nomura! Herona! Zecremea nomraxia qoxirizakri merase"(Translation: come we must run, my children!)" 

Please, no more nonsensical Serenian.

We start running and an explosion happened bits of the arrows and metal from the guns flew at my cubs and pups I block them and got cut every were it hurt so much, then I hear something "Kaitlyn! Dude come on!" I look and see Alfred on a helicopter when I reach the helicopter 

Shouldn’t he be back in America, defending his own people?

I look back and call out to my pups and cubs "come on almost there!" then disaster. Another flower beam was shot and it hit them, my pups and cubs, my babies 

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BROUGHT THEM ALONG!

"no! No!" I try and run to them but, Alfred pulled me into the helicopter and restrained me the helicopter took off when I stopped struggling Alfred let me go. I cried, I let everything go. I dropped to my knees and cried Alfred sat on his knees and embraced me I cried into his jacket "Katie, everything's going to be okay. We'll get them back I don't know how but we will, I promise." 

Oh wow, this is so touching.

He said 'that doesn't really sound like him this must really be bad' I stopped crying and hugged Alfred "al, thanks for saving me I assume they got you?" ' assume I know they got him' "yeah, my missiles did nothing then they turned the statue of liberty all white and wiggly" "they did that as well to the valley of blue roses" (for all those who don't know in Serenia their national land mark is a valley of blue roses since blue roses are unnatural and were originally white it is said that on the night of a blue moon the glow of the full moon turned them blue.) 

Couldn’t the story behind the rose valley be included in the story instead of being dumped to us between brackets? 

"We're heading to a temporary headquarters, okay?" I nodded I started humming 'safe and sound by Taylor swift' then Alfred asked "hey Katie what song is that?" 'Crap! I forgot Taylor swift hasn't even been born yet and... Wait a minute the songs I know are from the year 2013 and it's what like 1980, I'll keep it to myself.' "It's called safe and sound a little thing I made up to keep me sane when Switzerland attacked" 

Finally, a rational decision. Also, if this chapter took place three months after the last, wouldn’t it be, like 1945 at most? How did the author forget something they wrote themself?

"Kaitlyn, when the war hit were you afraid that your country would be destroyed and you would ya know die?" "No, I feared for my countries people and animal life besides no one would really miss me." "That's not true! Iggy would miss you, Italy would miss you, jack and Allistor would miss you and I would defiantly miss you we all care about you Kaitlyn no matter what!" "Alfred." I smiled and hugged Alfred even tighter "Kaitlyn, I'm glad you're my best friend ""I'm glade too"

You’re what now?

then I fell asleep. 20 minutes later. We had almost reached the temporary hide out Alfred had to carry me on his back because I couldn't walk anymore I was partially covered in cuts and bruises and my head hurt badly. 

Didn’t you just say you were cut “every were?”

"Al, remind me to kick the pictonians ass later please." "No prob" when we were close enough we could see everyone was there. Feli lifted his head and saw Alfred and smiled but, then he saw me he squealed and ran to Alfred and I. "Kaitlyn! What-a happened!?" he asked frantically "Feli, calm down I'm fine." I reassure him then I was lifted off of Alfred's back and carried to the temporary 

The temporary what?

I look up to see Germany "thanks." I said he smiled and place me on crate then china tended to my wounds. 

Is the medical centre just a crate? If not, what on earth is the author trying to describe here?

"Thanks china I owe you one" I said "no problem Kaitlyn!" he replied I noticed Feli walking around looking for something. "Hey Feli what are you looking for?" he turned to me and smiled "I-a think the puppies and cubbies are playing hide and-a seek with me so I'm-a trying to find them." I looked down and said "they're not playing hide and seek Feli." "Oh, then where are-a they?" I started to tear up I look at him as I raise my head and say "ask the pictonians" he paled

“Kaitlyn, you fucking idiot, why did you bring them along with you to fight?”

"becoming a pictonian appears to be our fate" I say "I refuse to become as ugly as the rest of you" France says "look on the bright side at least you won't smell like drunk cheese" England commented "chill out, we're not gonna let this get us down. Dudes, we're gonna stand together whether we like it or not. I don't!" Alfred said then Russia said "I agree, I don't like it!" then china said "that's right we should work together even if we hate it. I hate it!" "I hate it more" Arthur added "Qui j'detetes" France sighed "no rikey, but we should listen to each other's ideas" japan stated 

The next person to use “no rikey” unironically will be executed at dawn.

"right, all zhose in favour for us to vork togezher raise your hand now" Germany said everyone but me and Feli raised their then Italy looked around and raised his hand and said "pasta~" I raise my hand and Alfred said sounding confident "check this out a douse of originality we get a super hero with a deflector shield to beat the crap out of those guys" 

Haha comedy, am I right?

then Italy said "I think japan should do it I-a mean he's-a got eave**** and let's not forget about gun**" but those are just anime" japan said 

Both Evangelion or Gundam were developed in the late twentieth century, decades after this story takes place. Plus, Italy isn’t so stupid as to believe that the mechas from those show exist in real life, is he?

"if you are looking for anime I can totally do that" china interrupted then a blurred picture appeared "you know I think I heard about that somewhere but better" Arthur says "yeah" everyone agrees "it original chines idea!" china fumed "excuse me" Germany said to grab our attention "maybe ve should oh I don't know zhink of ideas zhat are realistic" he said looking ready to blow 

Thank you, Germany. 

"I was thinking the exact same thing my idea is perfectly realistic" Arthur said looking confident "alright what do you have in mind, Arthur" I ask then he shows us a dark magic circle 

How the hell did he make that so quickly?

"yeah we need something realistic" everyone said "you wankers don't ignore me!" Arthur yelled "my turn, how about we find their leader and hold them for ransom" I suggest "still need a realistic idea" they said then we hear a sound "Fucking" over and over we look at a screen to see a little grey alien "ah, what a charming alien" France said sarcastically "he's no alien! Tony is my best friend!" Alfred said sounding offended "that doesn't mean he's not a bloody alien!" Arthur said but, was ignored by Alfred "Tony what's the scoop bra?" "fu-"he tried to say but I interrupted saying "hey Tony? Think you could I don't know not pull any crap on us. Remember how you owe me from 30 years ago. I need you to show us the pictonians website and put on the translator software, please?" 

What does Tony owe Kaitlyn and why was this never mentioned?? Also, the internet didn’t exist in WWII, what is going on -

he nodded and put up a website and then the translator thing made all the alien language translate in to English. Then a video played explaining the pictonians intentions. "It appears our planet is doomed." " ?" "What did he say now?" japan asked and Alfred replied "the more evolved the species the more their faces look nopra like" "oh, I have collection of evolving I'd like to show them" Russia said as he released a purple aura 

The fuck does this mean?

"Vhere are zhey veak? Zhey must have a veakness' Germany said "they do" Tony replied then everyone but me flipped out "why haven't you been speaking English this whole time!?" France asked while freaking out "because I don't do dubs" Tony replied as he searched for something on his iPhone "okay their weaknesses are…" 

WHY DOES HE HAVE AN IPHONE IN WWI!?

he continued. Then I had a dizzy spell. I felt pulse "sunflower, you're alright, da?" Russia asked

Haha he used “da” haha so very Russia of him.

"I-I'm fine, Russia" I replied holding my head "call me Ivan" he said then Alfred yelled "TONY!" that set me off I collapsed to the floor a bright white light covered my vision, as I fell I heard someone call out "Kaitlyn!". Then, I heard the giddy British voice again "well poppet, looks like you've been telling people you get visions, huh? Well, we don't want you to be a liar now do we? So every time a something big is going to happen, you will suffer a dizzy spell and have a vision. Well I better be off ta-ta poppet" then it all went black. 

Oh, it’s the magic fellow from the first chapter. Will it ever be explained who they are or why they’re doing this to Kaitlyn? My money’s on “no”.

Suddenly, I saw everyone being turned into pictonians Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Ivan, Yao, jack, Allistor, Ludwig and Kiku then I turn and see Feli get turned into a pictonian 'no' 

Why is Italy’s transformation the last straw?

I ran at the pictonians tears blurring my vision. I felt myself lift off the ground then gone I lost the vision. "Kaitlyn! Kaitlyn wake up!" I heard I slowly open my eyes to see Alfred above me with worry in his eyes and me I was on the floor with everyone surrounding me "I'm fine I just had a vision" I said as I hopped up everyone look at me and didn't looked convinced "trust me guys I'm fine this happens only at certain times." I said then a green light flashed we ran to the light and stopped when we saw a huge pictonian ship. As it was landing a powerful wind blew everywhere it almost knocked down everyone but, it blew me backwards until someone caught me I look and see Allistor holding me by my waist "wouldn't want ye ta blow away now would we?" he said smiling "thank you, Allistor" I said holding onto him. 

And there goes another character into Kaitlyn’s harem.

When the wind stopped we all saw the ship in font "I think this is the mother ship" japan said "Hahaha those stupid aliens are so predictable" Alfred mocked "Allistor you can let go now." I said as I barely held my blush he blushed furiously and let me go "look!" Germany said as we see the pictonians marching onto the mother ship not noticing us "I think that's where they keep the humans that haven't been turned into pictonians probably human enslavement" I said "unacceptable ve must act now!" Germany yell as he marched towards the ship then japan stopped him "Germany I'm sorry I touched you but we must act reasonabry." "Must kill!" he replies 

Why is Germany suddenly talking like a caveman? Goodness, if I had a dollar for every question I asked while reading this mess of a fic I’d be the richest person alive.

"hey, dudes!" Alfred said to get everyone's attention "I have an idea how about we infiltrate the ship and find their weakness!" he suggested "yes, I like the way you are thinking" china said enthusiastically "you can leave the spying to me" Arthur said confidently "and leave the animal rescuein ta me" jack said "nothing ventured nothing gained is what they arways say" japan said "exactly 'ow are zhey?" France asked "I know a way we can get inside!" we all looked and see Feli in a pictonian costume "tada!" "VHAT ZA HELL!? VHAT IS ZAT!?" Germany asked/yelled

You could just use “yelled”.

"it's my-a pictonian costume I made-a it with all the white flag material I have! Woohoo! I made-a one for everybody!" he laughed pointing to a box with pictonian costumes. Everyone just stared at it for a while. Then I walked to the box and grabbed one my size I put it on over my clothes.

One your size? You’re telling me Italy managed to make a number of fake-outfits with multiple sizes while the rest of the nations were running out to see the ship?

When I was done everyone was wearing theirs then they all ran to the ship yelling their battle cries "ATTACK!" "Hahaha! Hail the conquering hero" "double O ninja!" "I'm ready" "what a relief I still look fabulous!" "Hold on tight panda!" "I reap into battre!" "Aussie!" "Whiskey power!" only me and Feli didn't move "we'll wait for you guys here!" he cheered as he waved his white flag "Italy! Serenia! You both are coming vith us!" Germany yelled as he stood in front of Feli!" "But, running onto-a the aliens ship seams reckless-a to me. Besides I don't want to get my costume dirty. What do you think bella?" then he looked at me "Feli, I'm scared." I said as I looked up at him with tears in my eyes 'it's true I am scared, I'm scared that I screwed everything up and what if everyone gets turned into a pictonian' then I felt a hand on mine I look to see Feli with his eyes open looking at me "let's-a go Kaitlyn. We'll-a do this together!" he beamed I smiled and ran with Feli who yelled his battle cry "PASTA~!" in turn I yelled mine "the angel has arrived!" 

Why would Kaitlyn be described as an angel? She’s done nothing remotely angelic in the story so far.

20 minutes later. We're all on the ship we hide behind a corner "ok, here's the plan Russia back me up, japan you back me up too and Iggy..." Alfred said when we were all in a circle with Germany holding eleven sticks "pick one each vhatever colour you get is zhe group you're in." he said "don't ignore me!" Alfred whined every one picked a stick France went with Arthur, Alfred went with Ivan and china, Germany went with japan and Feli. Me I went with Allistor and jack. We're walking down a hall way. 

Nice tense change there.

'I'm not scared' "ya know we need 'a find the captured humans, righ'?" "No, I thought we're er ta play golf, we're not stupid lad we know what we're ta do." The continued arguing then I heard a noise and saw round the corner pictonians "shh!" I pulled them into a room but part of my pictonian costume ripped at my lower half reviling my lower half and the warrior skirt. "Great just great" I said sarcastically "Kaitlyn? Love is that you?" I turn around and see Arthur and France standing in front of a blue ball "what happened?" Arthur asked "these two dumbbells attracted unwanted attention so I acted fast and pulled us into the nearest room" I said a little peeved. 

“Dumbbells” is a weak-ass insult.

Arthur scolded them while me and France looked at the globe I touched my country like Arthur was supposed to do with his country. Then a little page popped at the side of it but it was in the alien's language "damn, hey Arthur little help?" I ask he stops and chucks me his phone 

Again with the cell phones! Isn’t it supposed to be the mid-twentieth century?

I look through it and put up the alien translator app then the screen scanned the page and processed the data then it binged and it all translated into English I read it aloud once the guys stopped fighting "Serenia, a peaceful country with both beautiful fauna and flora and also a former pirate now a polite lady. Serenia is a former pacifist but, during world war two and seeing some of her people and most of the fauna life massacred she became a fighter. She often gets stuck in the middle of love, because all the male countries are in love with her and she can't decide" 

Woah. I couldn’t have come up with a more Mary Sue-ish description if I tried.

I blushed furiously and silently handed Arthur back his phone "love? Are you alright?" he said with a red face "p-p-please j-just go c-check your country" 

I can tick “badly-written stuttering” off my bad fanfic bingo now.

I stuttered not being able to keep my cool. Arthur looked at his country and started fighting with France I ran up to them and tried to break them up "guys! You have to stop" then France accidently back handed me I hit the floor but no one helps me up. Allistor and jack tried separating Arthur and Francis then the door opened and the pictonians appeared "what do we do now?" Francis asked 

I don’t know, maybe run instead of twiddling your thumbs?

"don't worry I'm sure there is a trap door here somewhere" Arthur said then a rope appeared next to him "see what did I tell you" he pulled the rope and the four of them fell through the trap door leaving me on the floor the pictonians looked at me 'I'm screwed' they didn't move "huh?" I looked down and saw that I look like someone turning into a pictonian. ' alright, let's play pictonian' so I found my other half of my costume and slowly pulled it on and pretended it hurt then to seal the deal I was next to the trap door and screamed at the top of my lungs "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" then I slowly stood up slouching like them then they left. 

I understood like ten words out of this section. 

I shed the pictonian costume and fluffed out my black cloak and skirt I checked to see if my necklace on my head was still there and if my foldable gold staff was in the side of my skirt, luckily they were but unluckily, the staff put a little cut in my side making blood drops appear. 

And this, kids, is why you don’t fight with fucking staffs. Also, how on earth is a tall, heavy staff made out of gold able to fold in on itself?

I ran out of the room and followed the pictonians without them noticing me. Then I see everyone in a corner. Found the alarm system, pulled and jumped in the vent the pictonians turned their attention to the alarm I slowly crawled in the air vent but, then I made a wrong move and fell. I waited for the impact but it never came I opened my eyes to see that china caught me "china, thank you!" I said as I hugged him "it is alright and please call me Yao" he smiled as he blushed lightly then set me on the ground 

Dammit, there goes another one.

"Kaitlyn, you're alright" Feli cried as he hugged me. Then a green light grew bright we all looked to see the pictonians about to turn us into one of them. "We. Are. Screwed." I stated "wait, ret me try something" Kiku said "go ahead, Kiku-san" I said. "Pictonians we have come to show you our hospitarity." He said "WHAT!?" everyone but me yelled I ran next to Kiku and backed him up saying "Kiku is right we should show them what earth has to offer. If we show them how fun and fantastic earth is maybe they won't invade earth, change everything back to normal and leave."

Nice idea, but they’ve kind of already invaded earth. You’re too late, honey.

Then Yao said "leave it to me!" then a china town appeared and all the pictonians were sitting at tables with food in front of them "please eat as much as you want" Yao offered "don't-a mind if I-a do!" Feli said with a plate of food in his hand "zhat is not for you!" Germany yelled "but why does-a Kaitlyn get-a to eat?" he complained "because it's just a mango and I haven't eaten since yesterday" I said the pictonians started to eat 

What does China serving mangoes have to do with why she gets to eat?

"so you like it am I right?" Yao asked confidently "we don't know" they answered Yao "I'm so glad you like it. Wait you don't know?" he asked "we don't know" they replied then France tried to get them to eat his countries cuisine but got the same reply "I would like to be going now don't be letting me down" Ivan said to the Baltics "yes sir" they replied then done a ballet to swan lake in female ballerina outfits' 

Poor Baltics. What did they do to deserve being put in this fic?

that's just cruel' then they spun off stage "we don't know" the pictonians said I thought of what hospitality I could provide 'belly dancing and flowers' I played belly dancing music and hopped on the stage and danced. Every time I could I threw a bunch of flowers to the pictonians. 

Where did she get - I’m not going to question things any more.

I heard my friends shouting out "go, sheila!" "Shake it, Kaitlyn" "go, bella!" when I finished I posed with my hands above my head and one leg at the front the pictonians gave me an unexpected answer "it was good" I jumped off the stage and Alfred picked me up and spun me in the air "dude that was awesome where did you learn to do that?" he asked as he set me on the ground "I went to India a little while back and learned belly dancing" I replied then Germany tried to give a pictonian some beer but struggled a bit "dude, let me help you out" Alfred said then a casino popped out of nowhere. All the pictonians were at slot machines and one hit the jackpot, another got kissed by two girls in bunny costumes. "Men" I said as I walked away from Alfred. 

Haha guise get it? She’s totally a strong independent woman who laughs when men are being stupid even though she has ten of them chasing after her!

I noticed Feli with the pictonians having fun then everything went wrong. The pictonians had eaten one of Arthur's scones and turned blue in the face. "Come on, what-a happened? Let's-a eat another scone" Feli said happily and the pictonians replied "no way" "guys I think this is our cue to leave" jack said and with that we ran. "Well, what now genius?" I ask then Alfred stops at a door and presses a button then the door opens to show us a long drop out of the ship into the ocean "Geronimo!" Alfred yells as he jumps then everyone but me and Feli are left "Feli come on it's better than being turned into a pictonian" I say then we jump. During the fall Feli had his eyes closed, me mine were open and it's a good thing too, because up ahead was a huge pointy rock. We were falling fast so I pushed Feli out of the way and he missed the rock by an inch. I, on the other hand got the full blow of the rock it my stomach leaving a huge gash then my back. 

Wouldn’t she also break some bones and presumably die on impact? Falling from a high place onto a sharp rock would definitely leave more than two gashes.

I fell in the ocean hard and hit my head on a rock I slowly lost consciousness as I rose to the surface. 20 minutes later. I woke up on a sandy surface and I immediately started coughing up water and feeling the sting of salt water in my wounds. "Hello? Is someone there?" I heard a familiar British voice call "Arthur?" I call out but no reply I stand up and limp to where the sound came from. I keep walking until I hear crying I stumble to the noise and soon am hiding behind a tree looking at a camp fire with everyone around it. "b-but, where-a I-I-is Kaitlyn? Feli cried "we need to find her now I-I just couldn't bear to think what I would do without her" Alfred admitted everyone nodded their heads in agreement "it's so nice to see how much you guys care for me" I said as I came out from behind the tree with my cloak covering my body. They all lifted their heads and Feli tackled me to the ground "bella, I-"but before he could finish his sentence I howled out in pain "aaahhhh!" 

You should’ve collapsed a long time ago.

Feli got up and looked at his hands and his eyes opened and widened showing terror "b-bella, w-w-why are-a you bleeding?" he shakily asked I stood up to see everyone staring at me with pale faces "I had a little accident." I said they still didn't look convinced. I felt a pulsing pain in my stomach as I fell to my knees 

Yeah, there it is.

"Kaitlyn!" they all ran to me I undid the lock on me cloak "Kaitlyn what's wrong!?" Alfred asked as he looked like he was about to cry. I removed my cloak and reviling my injuries everyone gasped in horror. "Well are you going t-"I lost consciousness in the middle of my sentence. In my dream world.

It’s magic teleportation man, isn’t it.

"Hello?" I call no answer "hello, poppet." I turn around to see a man with strawberry blond hair and bushie eye brows he had neon blue eyes, he wore a pink vest over a white dress shirt and army green slacks and a purple bow tie. Then it hit me I know who he is "O-Oliver Kirkland!?" 

YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING -

I ask he clapped his hands while jumping up and down "oh, you figured it out poppet well done! But please call me Ollie" he giggled 'only because I read fan fiction' 

How does Kaitlyn reading fanfiction relate to her being allowed to call Oliver “Ollie”? So many sentences in this fic are just strung together with no relation whatsoever.

"you sent me here didn't you?" I asked he stopped bouncing and smiled "yes, we brought you here because you have such a vast knowledge on us and wanted Hetalia to be real so badly that we decide to bring you here and make you a country. Isn't wonderful? We picked you out of all the girls and boys in the world" he said "yes I am grateful but, what do you mean by 'we'?" 

Oh, so her teleportation into the Hetalia world is explained. Still makes no sense why she was picked, though.

I asked he smiled but made it even more cheerful looking "I mean-""the cupcake freak means us, doll" I looked behind me to see 2P America Allen Johnson or as he prefers to called Al, he had red/brown hair, red eyes, a bomber jacket with a fifty on the back, black gloves, sunglasses and, like the fan fiction says, a baseball bat with nails at the top. 

OH MY GOODNESS, NOT THE ANOTHER COLOURS.

And another thing: why is Allen’s appearance described as being “like the fanfiction says”? Since the Another Colour Main Six aren’t canon (only their Nyotalia forms are), everyone has a different interpretation of what they look like. What fanfiction is Kaitlyn referring to?

I need to stop asking questions when it’s clear I won’t get answers.

I started blushing because when I found out about the 2P's I developed a crush on them. "Well hello, doll face" he said as he walked up to me "Al" was all I could say he smiled and put a finger under my chin and moved his face closer about 2 inches from mine "heh, she's pretty cute. No 2P Serenia but hey she's just as cute" 

ANOTHER ONE IN THE HAREM.

he said I backed away a little "you mean I have a 2P?" I asked then Oliver came from behind and hugged me I yelped and winced Oliver looked down and said "oh dear you got injured. We'll bring you to Yung" then another figure appeared with a medical kit. He looked like Yao except he had black hair and red eyes 

Doesn’t regular China also have black hair? Also, what the fuck kind of name is “Yung?” That syllable doesn’t exist in Chinese.

"hello, Mrs. Water lily" he said as he tended to my wounds as I sat on the floor "it's nice to meet you, and you don't have to be so formal with me please call me anything you like" I beamed he had a light blush across his cheeks "fine, I will call you… nightingale because you have the beautiful voice of one" he said I turned bright red. 

You’ve met her for at most five minutes.

When he finished I had a bandage around my whole torso and stomach and head. 

A bandage around her torso, stomach and head? She must look like a mummy from the waist up.

"Thanks, I owe you one." I said "oh, don't worry about it, poppet. We wouldn't want you to be hurt now would we?" Oliver said "now, see that door?" he said as a blue door appeared "uh huh" I said "go straight through it and you'll wake up to the 1P's and have theses bandages on still" he said. 

So the Another Colour characters were only brought up to keep Kaitlyn from dying and providing exposition. Well, I shouldn’t have expected anything more.

I walk to the but I stop when I put my hand on the handle I turn to the 2P's "but will I see any of you guys again" I ask. Al smiles and says "of course. Why wouldn't we want to see your cute face again, doll face" Al replied I nodded and walked through the door. When I wake up. I open my eyes and see Feli asleep and everyone else talking about things 'no sign of Sealand' I sit up and groan "ow, my head" everyone looks at me their eyes widen as I stand up. "Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm fine" I said smiling "cheerio everyone!" we turn our heads to see Sealand on his 'country' 'I haven't met Sealand yet' "I brought my whole country here to help you all!" he shouted "you don't have a whole country to begin with go home you little pipsqueak!" Arthur yelled.

“Sealand and England arguing over whether or not he’s a country” trope, check.

5 minutes later. Everyone just finished eating food from Yoa's resort that was conveniently on the island. 

Who is Yoa?

"I am so full at moment" Yao said rubbing his belly. "Who knew you had a resort on this island" Arthur said I sat on the shore of the ocean, letting the water touch my feet. 'My babies, I raised them from pups and cubs and now their pictonians.'

What an out-of-place line to wrap up this chapter. The conversation has just started, nobody has responded to it and nobody knows what will happen. It feels very abrupt.

...

Well, that was it. I am in immense pain and I feel like I’ve lost a few brain cells. This was maybe the most illogical, unenjoyable thing I’ve read in quite a while, but am I going to also review the other chapters? Yes. For now, I’m going to rethink my life choices and try to forget what I read here.

[deafeningnightcollection-things]

Worlds Collide ~ TEEN WOLF

Chapter 2: My best friend is definitely a werewolf (S1 E1)

Cassie was anxious to get to school the next morning and make sure Scott was alright. She dressed quickly and ran downstairs, hopeful to avoid awkward questions. But parents seem to have a sixth sense for when their kids are trying to sneak out and her dad was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and he didn't look very happy.

He did his best to keep his voice at a whisper, hoping that her mom wouldn't hear them. "You're lucky that your mother is a deep sleeper, and didn't hear you climbing out your window in the middle of the night. What the heck where you thinking? They found a body last night. If this town lights up like it did with the Hale fire, we're going to have to move, again."

"I know, I know. He's after us, but we're stronger than we've ever been. Would it really be so bad if he found us now?" I'm tired of running. "We can't run forever, dad."

Her father sighed. They'd had this same fight for years. "You don't know him like we do, we can a lot of things others can't, but he can do more. More than anyone should be able to." He paused, clearly not wanting to escalate the argument further. "I'm going to be home late tonight, Dr. Draile is out sick today and they asked me to cover his night shift. Your mom is going on a trip for a few  days, thankfully she's not too freaked out cause she hasn't heard about the body in the woods yet. If you need anything call Melissa, she's off tonight."

"Ok." She smiled tiredly, "I know that you're trying, it's just frustrating because I know that we could be doing so much more. I'm tired of being afraid."

"I know." He embraced her gently, "now lets get out of here before your mom comes downstairs and yells at us both."

Cassie laughed, a little more subdued than usual, but still a laugh and it felt good. "Ok"

The drive to the high school seemed to go by in a flash. She was worried about Scott, she'd spent nearly an hour debating with herself whether or not to go back out and look for Scott, eventually she'd decided that it must've been a normal wolf, it had to be. Still, she couldn't completely banish her worries, even though they were social pariahs at the best of times, Scott and Stiles still managed to attract more danger than anyone she'd ever met.

"Bye, dad." She waved as she jumped out of the car quickly and made her way towards Scott and Stiles.

"Dude, let me see." Stiles was motioning impatiently at Scott's shirt.

"Unless Scott's has a stripper career that I don't know about, I'm gonna need more context than that." Cassie said, inserting herself between the two. She was only mildly bewildered by what she'd heard, it was no where near the oddest thing she'd heard Stiles say.

Stiles answered impatiently, clearly anxious to see whatever was under Scott's shirt. "Little Scotty here, claims to have a huge freaking bite in his stomach. But I say pics or—"

"What!" Cassie exclaimed looking to Scott anxiously, it couldn't be. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." His eyes met hers quickly, trying to alleviate her panic. "Stiles is exaggerating."

"Let me see." She stated emphatically, holding his gaze.

Scott lifted his shirt reluctantly, "I told you it's not that bad."

No. No. NO. It has to be a coincidence, normal wolf bites look the same as werewolf bites, right?

"Cassie, you ok? You seem a little spacey." Scott was looking at her curiously.

Don't be weird. "Yeah, fine... Just didn't get much sleep last night." She sent a halfhearted glare at Stiles, curse him and his stupid ideas. If she was right this stupid idea was going to have much bigger consequences than a couple weeks grounding or a detention.

"Seriously though, this is awesome." Stiles barreled on, oblivious as usual to his friends' unease. "First a body, now this, at least something interesting it finally happening in this town."

"What do you think bit you?" Cassie tried to ignore the dread growing in the pit of her stomach.

"It was dark but I think," don't say it, "it was a wolf." Scott...

Don't freak out. "That's weird. I thought there hadn't been wolves in California for a long time."

"Yeah." Stiles agreed vehemently, "it's been like 60 years since there was a wolf sighting."

"Well, if you two don't believe I saw a wolf than you won't believe I found the other half of the body." Scott said with a hint of a smile.

"Dude. Really?! That's amazing." Stiles might as well have been jumping up and down. This boy was way too excited by a murder. "The only thing better than that is Lydia Martin." Stiles attempted to say suavely as a certain redhead passed by, "h-hey, Lydia."

As usual she walked by without sparing in glance in his direction. Stiles brushed it off, but she knew it had to hurt. She clapped him on the shoulder gently, "better luck next time, buddy."

He glanced at her gratefully, a small smile tugging at his cheeks. "Thanks," he said softly, before turning to Scott. "This is your fault, both of you." He pointed an accusatory finger at her and Scott, "I'm a nerd by association."

Cassie laughed, and for a moment everything felt normal. Just for a moment she wasn't worried about her entire life in Beacon Hills being uprooted because of some stupid midnight adventure in the woods. She threw an arm around each boy, "well then, nerds. We'd better get inside, don't want to be late on the first day. Scott's enough of a problem child as it is."

"Hey," Scott was quick to defend himself. "Every time I've gotten in trouble has been entirely Stiles' fault."

"Hey!" Stiles replied indignantly. They all laughed.

Their first class passed uneventfully, and it was easy to pretend there wasn't a weight on her shoulders. The second class made it harder to ignore. Their teacher was droning on incessantly about the syllabus and talking about a body in the woods like it was nothing. Teachers really don't feel anything. Scott glanced out the window, something evidently having caught his attention. Sure enough there was a cute girl sitting on a bench in front of the school. Cassie nearly rolled her eyes. Boys, she thought exasperatedly.

The girl's voice drifted towards Cassie's sensitive ears. "Mom, three calls for my first day is a little over-doing it..." She said into her cellphone, exasperation clear in her tone as she rummaged through her bag. "Everything execpt a pen, oh my god did I actually forgot a pen!" She closed her bag with a sigh as the vice principal walked up to her. "Okay okay, I gotta go, love you..."

Cassie glanced back at Scott who had been watching the girl intently. This time she did roll her eyes, but a nagging doubt tugged at her. He seemed like he could hear what the girl had been saying. She tried to ignore her doubts, Scott was just staring at the pretty girl. For some reason that didn't alleviate her doubts.

Not two minutes later the girl walked into their class. Oh great, now Scott can spend the entire period staring at a girl. She shared a half-exasperated half-amused glance with Stiles. "Class, this is Allison Argent." The V.P. introduced her. Argent? Could she be? No. There has to be more than one family named Argent, but in Beacon Hills? Can it really be a coincidence? Cassie shook her thoughts away, today was going to be normal through sheer force of will. If she let things spiral out of control the next step would be her parents packing bags and flying out to the furthest reaches of Canada.

Allison walked forward, taking the seat behind Scott, and next to Cassie. Scott turned towards her, a faint blush on his cheeks, and handed her a pen.

Why did you have to drag us into the woods Stiles? ——— The rest of the day passed by rather uneventfully, the most interesting thing that happened was Scott doing some light stalking/eavesdropping on the new girl. She managed to stem her oncoming panic by promising herself that she'd get answers after school. The last bell seemed to ring out of nowhere. Cassie walked down to the lacrosse field by herself. Scott and Stiles had to go to the locker room first. Normally, she'd wait for them, but today she needed a moment to clear her head.

The bleachers were relatively full, back to school hype always pulled a decent crowd. She waved to a few kids as she sat down, including Danny who had just emerged from the locker room. She was so lost in thought that she didn't noticed Lydia and Allison sitting behind her until Allison tapped her on the shoulder.

"You're Cassie, right?"

"Yeah." Cassie answered cautiously, she wasn't sure how much the Argents knew of her family, but she still wanted to keep off their radar.

"You're in my English class." Cassie resisted the urge to sigh.

"Yeah. That's me..." She chuckled slightly, hoping to diffuse an awkward situation. It didn't work. She tried a different tactic. "So, how do you like Beacon High so far?"

"It's ok." Allison shrugged, "we probably won't be here very long, anyway." Cassie almost smiled at that, good. Less hunters in town the better. Cassie nodded noncommittally, before turning back to the field.

Scott and Stiles were on the bench as usual, but as she watched Coach Finstock walked over to the bench. He pressed a helmet to Scott's chest, "McCall, you're in goal."

Scott replied awkwardly, a little flustered, "but I've never played goal before."

Coach clapped him on the shoulder. "Exactly. It'll give the boys a confidence boost on their first day back."

"What about me?" Scott shifted uncomfortably.

"A few bruises won't kill you, McCall." Coach clapped him on the shoulder one last time.

Scott paled a little, but never the less walked towards the goal with determination. Stiles just shook his head, she could practically hear the thoughts going through his head. You're going to die. She leaned forward in her seat anxiously, hopefully there wouldn't be any rampaging werewolves on this field today. Especially with an Argent in the stands.

The boys lined up one by one to take their shots on goal. Various people in the stands cheering as their respective friends took a shot, but Scott blocked every one. Stiles leapt to his feet shouting, "that's my friend. That's my friend!"

Cassie smiled widely, knowing how important it was to Scott to do well this season. She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, "go, Scott. Yeah. Whoo, whoo." Underneath the helmet, Scott's eyes found hers and he smiled. More boys took shots on goal, and Scott blocked more and more shots. It seemed as though no one could get a ball passed him. Finally, it was Jackson's turn. Oh boy, she thought to herself. If something goes wrong it's going to be here.

The tension was palpable in the air. Jackson squared his shoulders and ran at Scott, attempting to bowl him over. But Scott stood his ground, appearing to catch Jackson's ball effortlessly. The people in the bleachers cheered, it really was a good save. Too good. Her gaze flicked between Scott and Stiles, how do you boys always manage to stumble into the worst situations?

Why now? Beacon Hills had been quiet since the Hale fire, six years of nothing, and now this. She couldn't think of any other wolf in town. What are you up to, Derek? She was tempted to leave before practice was over, but Scott and Stiles would notice, and that would lead to questions that she wasn't ready to answer. How do you tell your best friend that he's a werewolf?

The rest of the practice went by very quickly, Scott didn't miss a single shot. Cassie met them on the field as soon as practice ended. "That was amazing, Scott."

"Thanks, Cas." He answered, pride shimmering in his eyes at what he'd done. She smiled.

"You did good too, Stiles." She added turning to her other best friend. "It takes skills to warm a bench that well."

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles swatted her away with a roll of his eyes. "You were good out there, Scotty boy. First line may not be a pipe dream after all."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop calling me that?"

"Nope." Stiles puffed out his chest proudly. "I've already come up with five ways to work it into my best man speech."

"Of course you have." Scott cringed half playfully.

The conversation ended abruptly as they reached the locker room. "See you in five." Cassie nodded. She walked around to the front of the school slowly, arriving at Stiles' blue Jeep only a few moments after the boys.

"So where are we headed?" Cassie glanced between Scott and Stiles.

Scott glanced at Stiles before answering, "back to the Preserve."

Why do I let you drag me into these things? ——— Beacon Hills' preserve was chilly. Leaves crunched with every step, and branches fluttered in bursts of wind. The whole scenario felt so similar and yet so different from the previous night. Stiles walked a little ahead of Scott and Cassie, leading the way forward like usual, but so much had changed in a night. Scott had changed.

Unsure how to broach the topic, she tried the first tactic that came to mind. "Scott, you seem different today." Still the truth, just not all of it. "How're you feeling?"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know. Something's off, I can feel it. It's like my senses are on overdrive. I can see things, hear things, smell things. Things that I shouldn't be able to."

Stiles, ever the curious one, couldn't resist a conundrum. "Things like what?"

"Like..." Scott sniffed experimentally. "I can smell the mint gum in your pocket. I can hear Cassie's heart beating."

"I don't have any..." Stiles fished around in his jacket pocket, finding a piece of mint gum, neatly wrapped in foil. Glancing at it oddly, he tossed it back into his pocket. "Hmm... So this all started with the bite?"

Scott nodded. Cassie could practically see the pieces falling into place in Stiles' head, but this had to be too ludicrous, even for him and his wild imagination. "What if I'm dying? Like everything in my body is just fritzing. And then...blegh."

"You know what, I think I have heard of this." Stiles began, in that overeager way that almost always signified mischief. "It's super bad, like crazy bad, but only once a month."

"What?!" Scott was clearly freaking out, maybe on the verge of an existential crisis. "What happens once a month? Is it fatal?"

"No." Stiles eyes continued to glimmer with mischief. "They call it lycanthropy." Stiles spread his hands wide for emphasis.

"Is it serious?" Scott squeaked, growing paler.

"Only on the night of the full moon." Stiles howled.

Cassie smacked him on the back of the head. "This is serious, Stiles!" Her voice was louder than she'd intended, both Scott and Stiles looked at her a little oddly. She rarely raised her voice, but her panic was slipping through.

"Jeez, Cas. It was just a joke." He rubbed his head, wincing exaggeratedly. "You really pack a punch." He winced once more.

"Sorry." She glanced at Scott, and then Stiles, then back to Scott. "I'm just worried about Scott." Stiles nodded.

"I'm pretty sure I dropped my inhaler somewhere around here." And just like that the tension diffused. Scott walked forward to a patch of leaves. It had been dark last night and even with her advanced senses she couldn't tell one batch of decaying leaves from the next. Scott crouched down and began rifling through the leaves. Cassie moved to help him when the sound of leaves crunched under foot reached her ears, she saw Scott's head snap up.

"You're trespassing," an angry voice called out from behind them. "This is private property."

Derek. She tried to keep her face neutral, and not punch Derek. She saw his eyes widen a fraction as he looked at her, they hadn't talked since before Laura died. This whole problem had something to do with him, there were no other wolves in town. Well, there was Peter, but he was in a coma.

Stiles in his infinite bravery shrunk away meekly, "we didn't know, dude."

"Yeah, we were just looking for something... The preserve is big, we must've wandered here by mistake. Forget it, we'll just go now." Scott said stepping up next to Stiles.

As Scott turned to go, Derek tossed something to him. He caught it with lightning fast reflexes, and Derek quirked an eyebrow, his suspicions no doubt confirmed. Scott opened his hand, to reveal his inhaler.

"Uh thanks." Scott looked up, but Derek had vanished. "That was weird."

Stiles smacked Scott on the arm eagerly a few times. "Dude, do you know who that was?!" Scott shrugged. Cassie didn't answer, she had no reason to know Derek Hale. "That was Derek Hale, his whole family died in a fire like six years ago."

Cassie glanced back and she could see Derek, standing just out of normal human eyesight, watching them.

"Didn't he move away after that? What's he doing back here?" Scott wondered aloud, glancing back just as Cassie had.

Stiles shrugged. He knew something didn't add up, but he didn't have all the facts. She had more, but they still didn't add up.

"I gotta get to the clinic, Deaton's expecting me soon." ——— Stiles dropped Scott off in record time—breaking even more traffic laws than usual. Stiles turned to her as they sat in the parking lot, engine idling, "where to now, my padawan?"

Cassie raised an eyebrow, "one of these days you're going to stop referencing Star Wars."

"Never."

Cassie laughed, "well, master Jedi. Could you please take me home now?"

"I think I can arrange that." His eye twinkled as he deftly shifted into gear and backed out of the vet's office. The ride home was filled with amicable silence, that Cassie was thankful for. She was still trying to figure out how all the pieces fit into the wolf puzzle.

As she turned to leave the car, Stiles put a hand on her shoulder. "I know you normally talk to Scott about stuff, but I'm here too. I know somethings wrong, no pressure. Just... when you're ready, I'm here."

She squeezed his hand gently, "thank you." Stiles is a better friend than I give him credit for. Stiles nodded. She stood on the porch, until he was out of sight, then she broke into a run, heading for the preserve. It took her less than 10 minutes to reach the preserve on foot. She then followed the familiar trail, through the brush and leaves, to the charred house. She paused outside, listening, only hearing one set of footsteps in the house, and knowing that Derek would've heard her approach, she marched in.

"You've got some explaining to do, Hale!" She yelled at the quiet house.

"And you still know how to make an entrance, Cassaia." Derek appeared in front of her. It still felt so strange to hear her birth name, only a limited few knew it and even fewer ever said it. She shoved him harshly into the wall behind him.

"Why is it that you show up back in town the same day my friend is bitten?" She flung the accusation out hotly, her temper refusing to stay on its leash.

Derek sighed. "I didn't bite Scott, and I don't know who did. But I do know that whoever bit him, killed Laura."

"What?" She breathed out in a startled gasp. She released him, backing up a few steps.

Derek nodded bitterly, "there's an alpha running around the woods with my sister's power, and her blood on his hands." His eyes flashed their familiar icy blue. Tears welled up in her eyes and her blood boiled even hotter.

"The monster that killed Laura is just running around biting teenagers! Why?!" She threw the words at Derek like an accusation.

"I don't know, but I've been trying to find out." Derek answered calmly under her tirade, she nodded, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She reached out a hand before wrapping both arms around her friend, Derek's arms wrapped around her back firmly before releasing. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there enough when Laura died."

"I know." He met her gaze steadily.

"I'm going to help you find the alpha, and, I promise, we'll make him pay." She wasn't thinking about her parents, or keeping under the radar. At that moment, she was thinking of how kind Laura was, and how sweet Derek used to be and how their family didn't deserve any of this. He nodded. "Be careful. Ok? A beta alone can't defeat an alpha." Please don't be rash. I don't need to see another Hale tombstone. Derek was silent, she knew he wouldn't answer, he could be so stubborn and reckless.

She turned to go, "Cassie. You too." She didn't answer. So maybe we're both a bit reckless.

[lettersofwrittencollective]

The Pull (Intro)

A/N Ok so, this idea has popped into my head and it’s going to be a multi-part fic. Basically a rewrite of from the second part of Season 3 through the start of season 6. 

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective 

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word Count: 2311

Warnings: For this one, there are none that I can think of. Though, if you are looking for Stiles immediately then he is not here.  This is more laying the groundwork i’d say. 

MASTERLIST || NEXT>>

The rain was pouring when you finally pulled up to the now run down Hale House. Kicking down the stand you got off your bike and pulled off your helmet. Looking at the structure you couldn’t help but wonder if coming here was a mistake. But, this was your family - regardless of whatever issues they had.

Walking up to the front door, you noticed  the door swing open. “You know, you or your father could have called to say you’d be dropping by… We’ve been kind of - busy as of late.”

“Well maybe if you guys hadn’t revived the Nemeton, you wouldn’t have practically every supernatural creature on the west coast flooding into your home,” you chuckled as you closed the door behind you and took a look around, trying to find the owner of the voice. It takes a second but you find him sitting in what was once the sitting room that Talia would welcome people in.

“Peter.”

“Natasha - it’s been a long time since the Ragnulf’s have been in Beacon Hills. What brings you by? And without your father at that.” He asks as he moves to sit on the couch, his arms outstretched on the back of the seat as if he has no cares in the world.

You lean against the frame to the room, surprised by how sturdy it actually is for a moment. “Wolves are quite territorial, surely you know that,” you tease him lightly. “We’ve stayed away for the same reason the Hales stayed out of our lands - this isn’t our home. Thankfully, we’ve had no reason to leave.” You go silent, as though you are contemplating not answering his question but you know it’s better if you do. Still, you want to avoid it for a little bit longer. So, instead, you ask your cousin “Where’s Derek?”

“Here” your other cousin answers and you smile at him briefly, though the smile does not reach your eyes. He comes and pulls you into a hug before leaning back and staring at your face. No doubt, both of them can smell your distress.

Derek searched your face, a hand coming to cup your cheek and you looked away, turning your face into his hand.  Closing your eyes you took a deep breath before finally saying the words “The Pull’s started..” your voice is so low the only way they’re able to hear you is their supernatural ability and your voice cracks. “This is the first place I’ve been to and there’s no pain.”

Peter leans forward on the couch, his forearms on his knees, a look of incredulousness on his face. He turns his face to you and then looks at Derek who has a look of shock on his face. Derek has stepped back and you’re standing there, tired.

“You sound terrified. You know - this isn’t a bad thing. Most people would kill to have this chance. Supernatural or normal -”

“Then they can have it!” you turn to yell at Peter.  Seeing a piece of lumber that’s fallen on the table next to you, you grab it and throw it towards him. He, of course, catches it in mid air. Dropping it, he stands up and stalks towards you, Derek is now at your side and Peter is annoyed you’ve tried to hurt him.

Without realizing it, your eyes have flashed and a growl is escaping your lips. You’re not entire sure why, but Peter seems to have less control than normal as he’s begun growling at you as well. The moment is tense but Peter sees something that catches him off guard and is able to give him some sort of control. He stops growling at you and merely stands there, silent and slows his own breathing down. Your attention is focused on him but your control is lacking so you continue to grow at him. You’re eyes are bright and your claws extended as you fight the urge to lunge at him. Peter’s worked with a struggling pup before - he’s worked with you before.

“What are the three triads?”

You only growl at him.

“What are the three triads?!” he repeats more forcefully this time.

You remain silent.

It’s Derek that speaks first, “The heart, The mind…”

“The instinct,” you finish before  you repeat it with Derek. “The Heart, the Mind, the Instinct… The Heart, the Mind, the Instinct…” You repeat this a few more times, slowly, with deep breaths littering the sentences. You’re eventually able to return to normal, claws retracted, canines  shrunk, and eyes returned to their normal color. Your chest was heaving but slowly returned to normal.

“They’re blue...”

You cross the room and fall onto the couch. Both of the males are silent, waiting to hear more about why they’re blue. You run your hand through your hair, “And sometimes they’re purple…”

Derek and Peter look at each other before their eyes flick back to you. Derek is the first one to ask, “How?”

“No idea. Aaric thinks it’s because it’s presented so early. Dad thinks that it means there’s going to be something completely different about how this bond will play out. Personally - I’m hoping it means there’s a way to break it.

Of course, there’s no way to control the eye color. Blue shows up the most often so everyone assumes I’ve killed someone innocent.” You close your eyes and sigh leaning back onto the couch itself. You didn't want this, you wanted to be able to choose. There’s things about these soulmates that people don’t understand and you can’t even begin to explain it.

“So the Pulls brought you here to Beacon Hills - how many other places have you tried?”

“Alaska, Canada, New York, Illinois, D.C., London, Singapore, Spain, Turkey …” You continue to list the places you’d traveled to in the last year. You didn’t stay anywhere very long so it wasn’t like you had a whole lot of stories to tell. “The pain was constantly there. After Dad heard about the Nemeton, he suggested coming here. He’s not happy you guys didn’t call about it but he gets it… The closer i got, the more dull the pain got. It’s still there.. Will be until the bonds cemented but it’s not unmanageable.”

“And it’s different from what the rest of the pack has experienced?”

“Yupp”

“Is that why you don’t want this?”

“Is it so wrong to want to be able to choose?”

“Wait a second.. Little Wolf, I thought your families little “curse” doesn’t manifest until after your 21st birthday?”

“Normally, but whatever it is that makes this different, means it’s starting now.”

Peter sits next to you while muttering under his breath. Something a lot like “Well isn’t this lovely.” Derek sits on the other side and you lean your head onto his shoulder. “Can I stay for a little while? I don’t know who it is, and the way this seems so different, I’m not sure that the same rules are going to apply. The only thing I know is that right now, Beacon Hills is the one place where I am not fighting agony.”

“You can stay in the loft, with me.” Derek answers and you nod your head against his shoulder. A small smile that he can’t see coming to the corners of your lips. You hadn’t expected them to actually accept.

It took a couple days but everything got set up. You were enrolled at Beacon Hills High School now. You’re father had called and made some story up that they accepted and Derek and Peter were now viewed as your legal guardians as far as the school was concerned. A part of you wants to go home. The pain no longer scares you, you’re a Ragnulf, you know that pain is part of life. Pain is part of the Pull itself. It’s unfortunately, the only pain you cannot share. The thing that scares you is what happened to your father's sister, Clara. You’re not sure that you can bear that kind of luck. Only a few people know that it’s even possible. Few know about the Pull itself and even less know about what any of it entails. The Hale family only knows because your great-grandfather had been pulled to one of their great-aunts

You didn’t know but Derek had some idea. He had overheard Talia and your dad talking and had pieced together what it was. Like you, he had no idea who you were being pulled to but he did know that he was going to do what he could to ensure that you didn’t meet the same fate as Clara. So, he reached out to one of Scott's pack members and told them a little bit about you. This person was going to be asked to be your friend. He was told that he could make his own choice, but he felt indebted to Derek to some degree, so he agreed to be your friend and to protect you.

A week before you’re actually supposed to start classes at the high school, Derek knocks on your door. “Tasha? Come downstairs, there’s someone  want you to meet.” It doesn’t take you long before you’re downstairs.

“Who?”

“Someone who’s going to be a friend. Someone who’s going to help.”

You look at your cousin as if he’s lost some of his marbles but you figure that after the fire he’s entitled to his worries, so you just nod your head. There’s a knock at the door and Derek goes to slide them open. Standing there, is a boy that’s taller than Derek. He has curly brown hair that’s not too long and blue eyes that remind you of an ocean, there’s a boyish charm to him.

“Natasha, I want you to meet Isaac. Isaac, this is my cousin Natasha”

“Welcome to Beacon Hills.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle as you head over to the couch. The room is open so you’re not worried that he can’t see you.

“I’ll let the two of you get acquainted. Isaac, look after her.” Derek warns seriously. You figure that this is Derek being overprotective and you watch the boy, Isaac, visibly pale,

Chuckling, you cross to the couch and sink down onto it. Pulling your legs up, you tell Isaac “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself, how about you tell me about this school I’ll be going to?”

Isaac sits on the other end of the couch and the two of you spend the next couple of hours talking. It’s almost dawn by the end of it and you’re shocked- “How is this school even open? There’s so many different violations of just normal “how to treat kids” plus the amount of murders… not to mention the amount of money it’s got to have taken for repairs?”

“Yea, well.. Thankfully we’re still there. Probably because the only other schools in the area are private schools and so all the public funding goes into this school.”

“Well this will be fun. Ok, so ignoring the fact that there's this weird school you’re a part of Scott McCalls pack… Scott is the only known TRUE Alpha that currently exists. He’s the captain of the lacrosse team and best friends with Stiles? Stiles is human but part of the pack What doe he do?”

“Well- he’s kind of like… the jack of all trades kind of thing. Guys a total spazz and talks too much for his own good but he’s always there for Scott so you can’t be too mad at him.”

“Ok… Stiles is a human addition to the pack that exists because of the friendship with Scott..” You’re not sure you actually understand the why and you’re questioning every aspect of it but you know that there’s more to it that you don’t understand and you’re not going to try to. “Then there’s Lydia who’s a Banshee. Congrats by the way, they’re super useful to have around.  There’s you- who you seem to have a lot of things you don’t feel comfortable sharing. And then - there’s Alisson.. Argent? You mean the Argents that have been hunting down supernatural creatures for centuries? But she had a thing with Scott and she’s not taking over Gerard's or her mother's place.” Isaac gives you a look like he’s surprised you know about Gerard, he hadn’t mentioned it. Before he can open his mouth to ask though, you beat him “The supernatural community isn’t small but we keep track of the hunters best as we can. ‘Know thy enemy’ kind of thing. Anyways, that’s not important. So I’m confused, I get that Scott managed to dismantle the Alpha pack- but he left Deucalion alive? The only ones left are the twins.. Are they part of Scott's pack?”

“God no.. I don’t trust them and neither does Scott.”

“Smart move.”  

You get up from the couch, stretching your arms and legs out after the stiffness that’s settled in. You look over to Isaac and you can’t help but wonder if the Pull is leading you to him. You’re sure that you’ll ask that of every supernatural creature you meet until you actually know but there’s no reason to be a creep about it.

Isaac follows your movements before he seems to recognize that it’s already dawn. “I- uh…  I gotta get going.” he says. You nod your head and the two of you say your goodbyes. He goes to hug you and you step back, you may have spent hours talking but you don’t know him. He’s not pack or family. He seems surprised but quickly recovers before leaving.

So, Beacon Hills - the supernatural wonder in the area is your new home and while it’s falling apart.  You’re being pulled here to meet someone.

MASTERLIST || NEXT>>

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 02 March 2019

[naveenkumarchandra]

Amazon: The Lungs which got Cancer

I am sure all of you, most of you, have at least heard or read somewhere about the fires that have engulfed the Amazon Rainforest. Many of you might be wondering, Well, it is annual phenomenon, why is it that it has created such an outcry this time? Why are these rain forests so important anyways? Why is it important to notice it and do something about it? Is there anything which we can do?

To start with, let me first tell you, why are we even talking about Amazon and what’s so special about it. Amazon Rainforest, or Amazon Jungle, geographically almost twice as big as India, is a tropical rainforest, spreading over an area of 7,000,000 sq km, covering some part of nine nations in the continent of South America. It makes up for more than half of the world’s total rainforest area. As far as the biodiversity is concerned, it would need an article of its own to do justice of the sheer scale, but, you can get an idea by the fact that, it is estimated that, it is home to 10% of world’s biodiversity and source of 20% of Earth’s oxygen. In addition to this, being a sink for about 140 billion tons of carbon, it is almost singlehandedly fighting climate change. It is in short, being a huge hydrological engine, is controlling the ocean currents which in turn regulate the climate all over the planet.

But forest fires, even in the Amazons are an annual affair. So, why is it that this has created such future this time around. Firstly, forest fires, caused naturally are not bad and are even desirable, as a controlled fire is many times used to halt a forest fire, clear dead vegetation to give way to fresh one, which in turn supports wildlife. But, the ones we are talking about are not controlled fires but disasters. Added to the fact that almost 17%-18% of the Amazon rainforest has already been lost to deforestation by 2018, these fires, if allowed to continue would mean a tipping point where these forests would soon be converted to waste lands, in turn destroying the planet itself.

Amazon, if lost, would leave us without our lungs. Can you imagine your life without your lungs? Absolutely not right, thus, what we essentially are hoping is that our planet will somehow manage to live without its lung when we have already given it many respiratory diseases of huge carbon di oxide, methane, carbon mono oxide in the air. This would mean if we take away lungs from a man suffering from asthma and hope he survives.

So, what can we do?

You might be already heartbroken to see the scale of the problem. You might also be wondering what can I as an individual ever do. Well, it’s true, the problem is in fact huge but. It’s also true that as an individual, alone, you can’t go there and put the fire out, no one can. But, you can in fact, contribute to make sure that this event does not happen again. You can contribute to ensure that people come to know about it. You can contribute and make sure that people know that this is the most important piece of news of the year and should get the attention it deserves.

Here’s a list of what you can do:

* Donate to “Rainforest Action Network” to protect an acre of the Amazonian rainforest.

* Donate to the “Rainforest Trust” to help buy land in the rainforest. Since 1988, the organization has saved over 23 million acres. 

https://www.rainforesttrust.org/

* Reduce your paper and wood consumption. Double-check with “Rainforest Alliance” that what you're buying is considered rainforest-safe. You can also purchase rainforest-safe products from the alliance's site. 

* Reduce your beef intake. Beef found in processed products and fast-food burgers often comes from the rainforest.

* The World Wildlife Fund for Nature (known as the World Wildlife Fund in the US and Canada) works to protect the  species in the Amazon and around the world. 

* “Ecosia.org”, is a search engine that plants a tree for every 45 searches you run.  

* Explore “Change.org” petitions. A lawyer in Rio Branco has accumulated over 77,000 of his 150,000 signature goal to mobilise support to start an investigation into the cause of these fires. 

* Donate to “Amazon Watch”, an organization that protects the rainforest, defends Indigenous rights and works to address climate change. 

* Donate to the “Amazon Conservation Team”, which works to fight climate change, protect the Amazon and empower Indigenous peoples. 

* “Amazon Conservation”, accepts donations and lists exactly what your money goes toward. You can help plant trees, sponsor education, protect habitats, buy a solar panel, preserve Indigenous lands and more.

* Donate to “One Tree Panted”, which works to stop deforestation around the world and in the Amazon Rainforest. One Tree Planted will keep you updated on the Peru Project and the impact your trees are having on the community. 

* Sign Greenpeace Petition, telling the Brazilian government to save the Amazon rainforest and protect the lands of indigenous and traditional communities. 

* Use your social media to spread the message.

[nebris]

Death Visits The Dynamic

~Club Dynamic was Manhattan's hottest party spot. At least for this season. Being in the East Village Inclusion Zone – the most storm vulnerable IZ on the island – made it all the more enticing. The imagined proximity of Death was always erotic. It opened at 8pm and closed at 8am, so things usually didn't get going until around Midnight. That is was New Year's Eve made that doubly so....and the countdown had just begun. The place thrummed and droned with Deep Vibe EDM and lots of beautiful bodies. Like most partying these days, it had a sharp edge of hysteria. One hot brunette at the bar in a super tight black and red mini-dress seemed too calm for the place. Some had tried to chat her up, but she politely rebuffed them. The more insistent got a look from her real self that caused them to scurry away quickly. That glimpse of Death was a little too proximate. Erika had not been in a psychic shithole like the Dynamic in a few decades. She'd grown out of this type of scene in her early twenties, but had kept coming back because it was a fertile hunting ground for slave boys, though less for recruiting Sisters. The females tended to be too drunk or drugged to properly assess. Tonight, she was on a different kind of hunt. And she wasn't really wearing a mini-dress. She actually wore a Mark XXVI Combat Suit. Its outer layer was TeleCamo and was only projecting an image of her in that outfit. She did in fact own such a dress. She'd just been scanned wearing it and had that downloaded into the suit. Integrated into the suit on each forearm was an MRG-6, a Mini-Railgun, as Primary Armament. Her body and skin had needed no editing however. Erika was a fully Enhanced Sister. Her bones and muscles had genetically increased density. Her blood teamed with nanobots that used her regular infusions of raw stem cells to repair and replace every single cell in her body on a moment by moment basis. And her brain, eyes and ears were embedded with millions of nanofibers – Neural Nanonics – all connected to her dozen personal on-board computers, keeping her aware of everything around her as needed. Because of all that, while she was little more than a month shy of her seventieth birthday, she still looked to be in her late twenties and she had always been a beauty. Though still a new political entity on the world scene, The Sisterhood had become immensely rich very quickly. Because of its foundational beliefs, it had the most advanced cybernetic and genetic Human Enhancement technologies in the world. All Sisters received whatever level of Enhancement they desired, which was the near maximum in most cases, and steady upgrades were the norm. Even their infamous male Servitor classes were given various Enhancements and lived far better lives than the major of the world's non-wealthy population. This meant that the best and brightest women from all over the world sought to become Sisters. And no small number of pretty young men sought to become Servitors. Everyone here at the Dynamic were Enhanced in one fashion or another. Only the wealthy lived in Inclusion Zones. The poor lived outside in The Shit, as Incluz called it. Too hot or too cold or too wet or too dry, Catastrophic Climate Change had showed up with a vengeance about twenty years ago, followed by all the expected horrors; war, pestilence and famine on a grand scale. Over three billion had died off. The wealthy had built their protected enclaves and left the poor outside. The security personnel who guarded the enclaves lived in their outer rims, though they were well paid. Their children and those of the wealthy only mixed socially in the party scene. That helped provide the wealthy with 'new blood'. Erika had noted those semi-desperate mating rituals while keeping an eye out for her real prey and monitoring the Hunting Trikona that also moved through this crowd. Her Neural Nanonics fed her visual, auditory and text information from all members of her team in real time. Like her, those three Sisters wore Mark XXVI's projecting 'party clothes'. If the revelers had known there was a Sisterhood kill team in their midst, there would have been a brutal panicked stampede toward the exits. Normally, Mistress Erika, First High Priestess of The Cult of Mictecacihuatl, would not have been involved on the tactical level. She had done a lot of this kind of work 'back in the old days', but she was Upper Management now and too valuable to risk. But this was a Very Special Mission with Very Special Prey. Besides, she had to admit she did miss the thrill of The Hunt. Calm as she appeared, her blood was coursing hot tonight. There was a second Hunting Trikona outside in an armored limo acting as the B Team, watching the comings and goings and monitoring the various Comm Nets. Plus they had heavy weapons 'just in case'. Still, this was a dangerous mission. They were a long way from home and deep in unfriendly territory. While the Union of Matrilineal Republics, The Sisterhood's 'political manifestation', was in firm control of all North America west of the Rockies, this was New York City, capital of the 'rump' United States of America; the old Upper Midwest, North East and eastern Canada. Their political relationship was tense. The USA still claimed all of North America. If things went in the soup, the Sisters would have a hard time getting out and there would probably be an international incident. But the USA did do a steady amount of business with The Sisterhood – and was notoriously corrupt and decadent – so something would be worked out. No way they'd try anything like this in the Christian States of America, the Old American South. Those fuckers were batshit crazy and proclaimed The Sisterhood to all be Hell Spawn. There was regular bloodshed in the buffer zone between them. Any Sister caught in the CSA, for whatever reason, would be literally be burned in public. Mistress Eva, Erika's sister and Spiritual Leader of The Sisterhood, had been unhappy about her going on this mission and had made her objections known in no uncertain terms. But she conceded because of the nature of the thing. Sisters had died because of the Greed of Men, therefore Pain and Punishment would be meted out. The target tonight was named Christof. He had a dozen or more aliases, but was always known by his first name. And reliable intel said he'd spend New Year's Eve at The Dynamic. If he did show up, The Sisterhood would make sure he'd see less than a full day of the coming year. Christof was a particularly vile breed of vermin; a trafficker of curve goale, literally 'blank whore' in Romanian. These were individuals, of both genders and all ages, who had been brain wiped and reprogrammed as sex slaves. Christof's organization had become the number one player of this game in Europe. They controlled their entire chain of 'product', from abducting victims outside of the Inclusion Zones of the major European cities, through the wiping and implanting, to operating the brothels where the goale 'worked'. It was well known that Christof's sexual appetites included mutilating and murdering goale, especially young females who were 'rewired' to interpret pain as sexual stimulation. As Europe had become a quite depraved sinkhole, his operations had flourished. The Sisterhood's General Security Directorate were well aware of this creature. The tech he used had been developed by The Sisterhood itself during The Dissolution Wars. They'd brain-wiped enemy male combatants, reprogrammed them and turned back against their various opponents. The fear of suffering such a fate had caused many of The Sisterhood's enemies to finally let them be. But even though he was using their tech, Christof and his organization could not be a top priority. Everything worldwide was in flux and while The Sisterhood had become very powerful very quickly, its survival was not yet assured. So numerous horrors like him went unaddressed. All that changed four months ago in a particularly awful outer zone of Munich. Erika and Eva had been born and raised in Munich, and though they had lived in SoCal for a half century now, Eva still loved their hometown, even if it had mutated beyond the place of their childhood. Because of that she had requested of The Priestesses of The Cult of Sekhmet, The Sisterhood's primary Medical Cult, that they create a special Sub-Cult to attend to the poor and sick of Munich's outer zones, The Cult of Eir, a Norse Goddess of Healing and Medicine.   A Trikona of The Cult of Eir had been going about its regular rounds when it encountered one of Christof's abduction teams. Once upon a time the team would have backed off. But he and his people had become arrogant and a fight ensued. Even though these were Healing Sisters, they were still Sisters and were trained and armed. But Christof's men numbered in the dozens and the running fight last nearly an hour. When it ended, two of the Sisters were dead and the last one badly wounded. Christof had lost at least twelve, with more wounded. The locals guarded the wounded Sister and threatened Christof's men, so they withdrew. This truly had been an International Incident. The EU could not track down Christof. It was simply too corrupt. Its leaders were terrified that The Sisterhood would launch an overt strike against them because of that failure. The Sisterhood's political and spiritual leadership was in an uproar. Even Mistress Eva herself, The Sisterhood's Face of Welcoming Love, had been in a towering rage.. But to everyone's surprise, it was Mistress Erika, The Darkness, the Sharp Blade of The Sisterhood, its terrifying Priestess of Blood, who urged restraint. Erika was well known for her fierce hatred of men. And her rage at them had never abated because men kept providing new reasons to be raged at. But where it had once burned like fire, her rage was now as cold as the depths of space. “They expect a hammer. Let us use a scalpel instead,” she had said. Eva calmed as she saw the wisdom in that. The rest followed their lead. And so nothing seemed to happen for months. Of course, the EU's intelligence apparatus willing opened all its doors to The Sisterhood, which is what Erika really wanted. Unlike her more tender hearted sister, she had little love lost for her old home town.  She had landed in Southern California a half century ago and fallen in love with it almost immediately. Erika took charge of the entire operation herself and bent a significant amount of Mictecacihuatl's assets and resources to tracking her enemy. Because she did have a perverse sense of humor, she titled it Operation Daisy. And now, on the last day of the Patriarchal year, Daisy was about to bloom. A few minutes before Midnight, Erika received an info packet from Bryn, the B Team leader outside in the limo. “Target Sighted,” is said, along with all the relevant data. The A Team inside received their own copies. It contained images of Christof and his security team, with a through analysis of their real time positions, bio-readouts, gear carried and projected movements. They were fairly well Enhanced and very heavily armed. Everyone acknowledged and waited. In the two hours they had been at The Dynamic, Sula, the B Team's cyberwarfare operative, had whispered through the Enhancements of the five hundred or so club goers looking for systems to jack into. By the time Christof and his crew arrived, she had ghosted over a hundred of them. Everything they saw, heard, felt, tasted and smelled was being monitored and passed on to Erika and the A Team inside. The club's security system they bypassed and ignored....for now. Christof had a twelve man security detail. Two proceeded the main group into the club, labeled A and B, and scanned the place. Six closely surrounded Christof himself, labeled Target One and E through J, while two more led, labeled C and D, and two others followed, labeled K and L. Erika would stand by at the bar while the kill team did its work. They were veteran operators and knew exactly what they were doing. Minka, the team leader, was in the middle of the dance floor. Selene and Artemis were equidistant from her and each other on either side of the main entrance. They'd wait until Target One was in the center of their triangular kill zone until they opened fire. At two minutes to Midnight, A and B passed through the Kill Zone. They would be Erika's first targets. Her Neural Nanonics had them highlighted in red, club security in yellow, the revelers in a dull green and her team in white. All four Sisters heard a soft tone in their heads. Christof and his men were entering the Kill Zone. Each Sister pulled the hood of her combat suit over her head, which activated Reflective Mode. They are all now effectively invisible. In the mounting excitement, no one noticed. Erika raised her arms, her targeting indicators showing a ninety seven percent accuracy ratio. The other Sisters were doing the same at the corners of the triangular Kill Zone. Their indicators showed a near one hundred percent ratio. And at these ranges, only heavy combat armor could stop the weapons being used. The hard sharp snaps of hyper-sonic ferrodarts pouring from eight MRGs did breakthrough the din, though only a few people recognized the sound. All thirteen of the targets were down within little more than two seconds, shaking and writhing on the floor. The darts were neurotoxin delivery systems. It cause muscles to contract so violently bones broke and it caused neural inflammation that felt like molten metal poured into one's veins. The Sisterhood meant for Christof and his men to suffer before they died. The sight of a cluster of large dangerous looking men suddenly falling to the ground and spasming violently did get people's attention and the rush for the exits began. Though faster and more orderly than Baselines would have done – these were all Enhanced humans – it was still a panic by any measure. The Sister's suits shifted image. They now appeared to by NYPD officers in heavy tactical gear. The club goers worked hard to avoid them. Erika strode over to Christof, placed her gloved hand upon his face. Microfine tendrils lanced into his flesh, seeking all his on-board cybernetics. They jacked-in and downloaded everything, his entire network configuration and all his data. That took thirty seven seconds. The A Team stood guard while this took place. Jacking out, Erika looked up at the nearest CCTV cam, pulled her hood back to fully reveal her face and said clearly, “Greetings from The Sisterhood.” She then pulled her hood back and they headed for the back of the club toward the owner's private entrance. At this point the bodies of Christof and his men began spurting blood from every orifice. That was captured on vid. Sula then totally crashed the club's security system. All that would be left was Erika's 'greeting' and the images of those deaths. The Sister's exited into an alley behind the club just as a NYPD cruiser pulled up. It was driven by Alita, Erika's personal assistant. They all piled in. A block away from the club the vehicle's exterior shifted to a normal looking luxury sedan. In the meantime, Sula had borked and scrubbed every CCTV cam in a three block radius. In front of the club, the B Team's limo was moving with the orderly chaos of people fleeing in self driving vehicles. They let the limo's AI do the driving, but Jo was ready to go manual and Bryn was jacked into the weapons suite, prepared to reduce any active opposition to flaming wreckage. But they glided out with the rest of the escaping clubbers without incident. By the time the authorities had sorted everything out, they would all be well on their way back to SoCal on a diplomatic jump shuttle belonging to the Union of Matrilineal Republics. Sula had received the data Erika accessed in real time and had uploaded it to a Sisterhood satellite directly overhead. The first operations against Christof's organization would be underway within an hour. And all would be completed within three days. Several hundred people would be violently terminated – The Sisterhood was making public examples here – and a few hundred more would become 'coerced assets' of the GSD. That would leave over four thousand goale. Most of them were not retrievable and would be euthanized as painlessly as possible. The remainder would be transported back to SoCal for reprogramming. ~*~ The next morning there was a VidCon between New York and Los Angeles, capital of the UMR. The vid of Erika's 'greeting' and the gruesome deaths was played. Pixels undulated. Then a man and a woman faced each other. The man was Frank Hammond, US Secretary of State. The woman, Renatta Sundersen, Minister of External Affairs, his opposite number in the Union of  Matrilineal Republics' government. They looked similar in their different ways, short professional haircuts and expensive business suits. Hammond was more 'masculine' of course. Sundersen's haircut was more 'feminine' and her suit was clearly of The Sisterhood's style, with the Star, V and Wreath pin on her lapel. She had known Hammond for over four decades from when she herself was a US Foreign Service Officer. That made their conversation familiarly confrontational. Hammond looked tired and angry. “That is clear evidence of a violation of U.S. Sovereignty and the commission of what is effectively a terrorist act by a high ranking member of The Sisterhood's leadership,” he said. “What in God's name was she thinking, Renatta?” “More like Goddess' Name, Frank, and you know which one.” Hammond flinched slightly at that remark. Sundersen knew she had the advantage over him. She was sure he'd been up celebrating until last last night,   while she was well rested, the Sisterhood's New Year's celebration, The Festival of The Turning, being five days in the past. “I Swear by The Goddess' Many Names that I did not know anything about this until a few hours ago.” She was telling the truth about being out of the loop on this and Hammond knew that by her Oath. “So then how do paint ourselves out of this corner? The president doesn't want a war, cold or hot,” he said. “But half the Congress is on the warpath, mostly The Federalists, but some of our party, as well.” His party were The Liberals, who were far more realistic about reclaiming the U.S. Former territory. The Federalists were the 'war party' and hated The Sisterhood. But all sides feared and loathed the CSA, which kept all this in check. For now. “I received a full briefing on this about an hour ago and the GSD gave me some information your president should find useful. We will sit on it, so how you use it will be at your discretion.” Hammond looked skeptical. “I'm listening." Sundersen tapped a hologram on the virtual console that illumined her desktop. “I just sent you a file with the information,” she said. Hammond paused while checking receipt, then opened the file. Because of his long  friendship with Sundersen he didn't engage any of his Neural software to 'pokerface' his expression. He read, his mouth and eyebrows slightly twitching. Then he smiled broadly. The data revealed that the leading Federalist Senator plus seven Federalist Congressmen – and they were all men – had been clients of Christof's organization and that Federalists in New York's municipal government had been on his pay roll. “Yes,” he said with satisfaction. “This will do very nicely.” Sundersen smiled back at him. “I thought you'd like it.” He turned serious again. “Renatta, I know it is a tall order, but could you please ask Her Grace to be a bit more discreet in these matters in the future?” Sundersen gave him a rueful smile. “Mistress Erika is a force of nature, Frank. But I will convey your request.” ~*~ Erika was still too keyed up to sleep. She'd dozed a while on the shuttle from New York, but that jump lasted barely an hour. At the moment she reclined on a chaise lounge in the ocean view parlor in her rooms in the Cult's Headquarters. She wore a short fine silk robe of a pale floral design Eva had given her. A male Body Servant massaged her feet. At the other end Seemkoo, her favorite Pleasure Server, a tall slim pretty mulatto, sat on the floor. He passed her a pipe full of hashish, a local Sisterhood blend. She planned to have him ride her hard in a short while, then have a deep well fucked sleep. Being early winter, the Plexiglas doors were closed, only letting in the still warm Southern California sun. The Mictecacihuatl Cult's Headquarters, a solid mass of tempered steel and smart concrete, sat upon the western end of the Santa Monica Mountains, just north of what was left of Malibu. Two decades of typhoons had washed away most of that old neighborhood. The sliding steel doors just past the Plexiglas ones where a reminder of that reality. The door chimed, then opened. Renatta Sundersen had been expected. She entered and dropped into a well stuffed chair opposite Erika. “Your Excellency,” Erika said with a nod. “Your Grace,” Sundersen replied, returning the nod. “So, Renatta, how did it go?” Renatta smiled. “He was quite pleased with what we provided him.” She placed a mini-drive on the side table next to the chair. “The whole thing.” Erika smiled wolfishly. “I thought as much.” She frowned. “Goddess, where are my manners? Would you like a drink?” “Yes,” said Renatta. “Some bourbon please.” “Seemkoo?” said Erika. He moved gracefully to a cabinet, then looked quizzically at Sundersen, who had watched him appreciatively. “Two fingers, neat,” she said. She and Erika sat quietly for a moment while she took a few sips of of her drink, then sighed contentedly. “Are you planning to share this with Saxon Park?” Sundersen said. Saxon Park was the HQ of the U.S. Unified Intelligence Agency located in central Westchester County north of New York City. Along with the irradiated ruins of Washington, the abandoned CIA and NSA HQ's now lay in the Disputed Territories between the USA and the CSA. Erika sighed a bit. “I thought it best to leave that to President DeKay. It might ding the relationship with the GSD a bit, but they'll have to understand the security protocols in this situation. The Federalists have their own people in the agency after all.” Erika gave Sundersen a thoughtful look. “Forgive me for dropping that bomb in your lap,” she said. Sundersen smiled, nodded, “No forgiveness necessary, your Grace. That nasty little fucker required a public execution. Besides, that's what y'all pay me for.” Erika flinched as the Body Servant worked a painful spot. He did not pause at all. Everyone knew she had a high pain tolerance. Sundersen finished her drink, stood. “I expect you're rather done in by all of this, so I'll leave you be.” “Thank you for coming by, your Excellency,” said Erika. Sundersen made a slight bow. “It was my pleasure, your Grace.” She then exited. Erika sighed deeply, motioned the Body Servant to stop. “Thank you,” she said. He bowed deeply. “I live to Serve, Mistress.” Then he exited. “Seemkoo,” she said languidly, pulling her robe open and spreading her legs. “Come here and prepare me.” He smiled softly,  his shorts bulging. “I live to Serve, Mistress,” he said, then brought his tongue and fingers down between her thighs. Erika gasped lightly, arched her back. All would soon be right in her world.

[icedanceupstarts]

2018 GPF Recap

Wrapping up the Grand Prix Series before we head into Nationals Season! We were very excited to see this field and get some questions answered, and answered they were. Click through for more analysis of performances, momentum, trajectories, all as your mods try very hard not to say “I told you so”(But like, we told you so). As always, read fast before the links die!

Rhythm Dance

Sinitsina/Katsalapov opened the senior rhythm dance with their powerful, intricate tango that was our favorite of the event. They skate really close together, and very smoothly and cohesively, a towering testament to how far their partnering has come in four years.

This was not the first time they've struggled with levels on that rotational lift, cool as it is. They also received a level 2 at Skate Canada. It's a difficult, eye catching lift, but Nikita fell short of six rotations here, dropping the level to a 2. He's always been a somewhat shaky rotator, being especially notorious for messing up on his twizzles, though he's improved leaps and bounds there.  Sometimes a little shakiness creeps in, as it did here, but the rotation was smooth and confident a couple weeks ago at IdF. It's a really good lift, and well choreographed for the tango, so we really hope they can get their rotations consistent because we'd hate to see them take it out. Had they received a level 4, they would have been second in the rhythm dance, a point out of first.

Hawayek/Baker had a tough act to follow, but they performed admirably at their first GPF. This was a tough tech panel, so Hawayek/Baker managing to avoid getting basic calls on either section of the pattern for the first time this season is better than it appears. They've developed a really nice maturity in their fifth senior season that only emphasizes their natural musicality.

One thing we like about this tango is how it's choreographed so that the music for the step sequence increases in tempo as they go through the element. It's very difficult to portray the shift in expression and movement mid element, and it's an admirable challenge they've set for themselves. It might be a more climactic ending to their program than their lift, as nicely timed to the music as it is.

While they weren't as on fire as they were at NHK, Zagorski/Guerreiro still delivered a solid performance here at their first GPF. Considering the drama of his skates arriving late, they should feel proud of their decent skate here. With how long and complicated the tango romantica is, it's hard to get the keypoints in the second half if you miss your timing in the first section, so kudos there. They opened with great twizzles, fast and with lots of ice coverage. There's a nice warm tension between them throughout, and they make good use of their long lines to accent the music.

Bringing their usual drama but not their best tech were Stepanova/Bukin, who were a little disappointed by their fourth place finish in this segment. They opened with a strong set of twizzles that thankfully weren't the popular yet small sit twizzle variation they've been struggling to execute at a high level for several years. The ones they used here have much stronger ice coverage and got them off to a great start that carried through their midline step sequence, if unfortunately not their pattern. There have been complaints all season that levels don't matter-- well they did here. Getting just one key point is so crucial when the teams are this close, as the point loss between a level 1 and a base level is nearly three times as much as between a level 2 and a level 1. We really love this program, and their performance was still on point. They use her ridiculously long legs to great effect, and the intensity of their expression and their musicality is just perfect. We really hope they can bring the technical proficiency they showed at Helsinki at Nationals next week.

We were very interested to see what Hubbell/Donohue have been up to, as they've had the longest to prepare, and even more so after we heard of the changes they were making. The original version of their tango was going for something more subtle and tense, but the revamped version allows them to let loose and better utilize their power and amplitude. The tension of the first half could be a little better utilized for greater impact when it breaks and they go into their dynamic midline steps, but the changes definitely are a more natural fit for their powerful, dramatic skating style. There are still a few tweaks they could make to the transitions and overall feel, but they skated very well.

We'd say we weren't feeling a little smug about Guignard/Fabbri coming second in the rhythm dance, but we cannot tell a lie. They've been very technically strong and consistent all season, which as we pointed out would come more into play at GPF where the differences between PCS and GOE were smaller. With no music mishap to distract them or saddle them with a bogus music deduction they came in a strong second, ahead of the Russians(which, again, we previously noted was possible, and would have happened at Helsinki had it not been for the music issues). There's a real level of maturity and polish to them, and a confidence that many of their fellow competitors did not share. The tango suits them really well, and all their movements are precise, placed, and finished. They don't have quite the same level of speed and ice coverage as the other medal contenders and so had to be better in the other aspects of their skating to fight for a medal, and they did just that.

Free Dance

Hawayek/Baker may be a little disappointed with their placement here, but someone had to come #actuallylast, and they still performed extremely well, the best they have thus far this season. There's been some debate over whether this free dance is Hawayek/Baker's style, or Montreal style, and your mods would like to humbly put forward that it is both. The general style is the sort of light, emotional, lyrical genre that they've explored various aspects of over the past few years (Amelie, Romeo and Juliet, The Theory of Everything, Liebestraum, Liebestraum: Once More With Feeling), but in terms of choreography it's like Gadbois threw up on them. It feels a little like what would happen if you forced a bot to watch hours and hours of Montreal programs and then had it create one itself. Which is not to say it's a bad program-- the structuring is very nice, the elements are well integrated into the choreography, it builds well, and there are some really nice choreographic touches like his slide or their spread eagles. What we still struggle with is the interpretation. While this was their most engaged, expressive performance yet, it made the program more emotionally confusing and incoherent. They clearly love this program and their joy is infectious, but also a very odd choice with how mournful the lyrics are. We can't tell what the storyline is supposed to be or what they're trying to convey to us. It may be that they're interpreting the music rather than the lyrics, which is a valid choice, but then they need to take out the lyrics so we're not jarred out of the performance when the singer is going on about how their love is gone and he's lost and Kaitlin and Jean-Luc look downright ecstatic. But if you can get past that it's a gripping performance of a program suited to their style of skating.

Stepanova/Bukin gave a fiery performance but were unable to make up the gap. This was good but not the best they've performed it. We love this program and they definitely had the crowd going, but the entire time we couldn't help but feel like they'd skated this better in the past. It's hard to pinpoint exactly what was off. There was Ivan's twizzlol which cost them around two points, if not more, which would have at least gotten them a medal. Combined with their pattern issues from the rhythm dance and the tough break of skating in the first group for the free, several points were left on the table in a competition where absolutely every point and fraction of a point mattered. But Stepanova/Bukin have never been a team to wallow in disappointment, and just last season came back at Worlds (where we promise they didn’t flop!) after not getting the invite they needed for the Olympics with performances at the level of their personal bests set at a home Europeans. We fully expect to see them looking better than ever at Nationals, ready to fight like hell for their National title.

There are a lot of weird coincidences in skating, such as at least three different skaters using In This Shirt or Tokio Myer's Bloodstream, but two tall, leggy Russian teams in all black skating blues free dances back to back is further proof that the skating hivemind is real. With a smaller lead over Hawayek/Baker than they had at NHK, Zagorski/Guerreiro needed to substantially improve their execution of their free dance in order to place #notlast, and they rose to the occasion. It's still very much a work in progress, but this was their smoothest outing yet. Still some slight shakiness going into the opening combination lift, but the position is striking and perfect for the mood once they get into it, and the transition to the stationary portion was a lot smoother. They're such a tall, striking team, and this free dance does a lot to show off their lines and strong body shaping. We don't love this music but we love the way they interpret it. For the most part we just think this program needs further cleaning up, but we do take issue with the ending pose. It's certainly unique, but it's also a little wobbly and way more than a little weird. Surely there is a final pose they can find where it doesn't look like she's drunk and can't stand up.

Sinitsina/Katsalapov reminded everyone who assumed they'd slot neatly into Russia #2 without a fight that they beat Hubbell/Donohue in the free dance at Skate Canada and their Season's Best score going into this event was near identical to both Hubbell/Donohue and Stepanova/Bukin, and not to count them out. They've always been a couple with potential but it's really astonishing to see how far they've come, both in terms of actual skating and competitive mettle. Even hanging on through a slight loss of balance in their opening straight line lift. There is some great choreo through the first section (except okay why does Nikita stick his head in Vika's back while she flourishes her arms beautifully? the world may never know) if not the most exciting music choice. The last minute really picks up with some wild chaos in a way that makes us kind of wish the whole program was like that. Last season’s free dance was probably the best one of their partnership, but you know what, they fully commit to this program and it’s great to see them skating so well and looking happy with their performances.

Much like in the rhythm dance, we were eager to see the changes Hubbell/Donohue made to the free dance, and there certainly were changes. We're not quite sure how to feel about them yet simply because the program feels unfinished, in an inbetween stage. It's like the skating equivalent of a molting chicken. We think the more dramatic O, Verona piece is much better suited to their powerful skating, but you can definitely feel that the program has been hastily reworked. With the new more dramatic opening, we'd think a more climactic finish would tie things together and give the piece a stronger, defined storyline and emotional progression. As it is currently, it feels somewhat unfocused and meandering. Their basic skating quality is undeniably top notch, however, and they sold the program from the start.

As we may have mentioned the result here didn't surprise us, but what did was just how genuinely thrilled we were for Guignard/Fabbri. They've been dismissed and overlooked and underestimated for so long and have worked so hard for this result, and we couldn't be happier for them. We genuinely like this free dance too. It feels like a throwback in the best possible way, and the upbeat dancey section in the middle is so charming and refreshing. In an era where some argue that there's not enough acrobatic, obvious difficulty in lifts, Guignard/Fabbri give you no cause to complain, and just assume that we're always raving about their twizzle entry.

So this weekend generated some controversy as you have probably noticed! Honestly we're not sure we feel like bothering getting into it that much again. The new system has done Things to scoring! Some of them good, several bad, and some of them five point knee slides, which is to say ???!?!?!?? Time will tell as to how many of these actually last more than a season. We're just really not sure what more there is to say about it at this point. We are as always interested to see where ice dance goes from here, and what changes are made after this season, but also what happens at worlds where we suspect those levels will make or break it for several teams.

For the record, we don't actually think that Gadbois has some sort of strategy where they're purposefully ignoring levels. No coaching group has exactly been crushing it and Gadbois has always been a little stronger at picking up GOE than BV. With the upping of requirements for levels combined with smaller differences in levels and the new GOE system, it's led to this result. And the teams this weekend generally didn't bring their best tech, regardless of coaching group. One reason it would be foolish to ignore levels is that it's very easy for a level 1 on the pattern to turn into a Basic call, which is killer as Stepanova/Bukin learned. It's something a top team can get away with in weaker fields, sure, but if Hubbell/Donohue had gotten a B instead of a level 1 on the second half of their pattern, they could have been in big trouble. Stepanova/Bukin and Hubbell/Donohue both hit three key points and missed five, but missing all four on one side hurt Stepanova/Bukin more. Final standings could have looked different just changing a level or two rendering them Still Important, particularly in close fields, no matter the scoring.

We have expressed numerous objections to the scoring system this season, but we feel obligated to point out that while the champions winning with the lowest BV is less than ideal, the difference was three points. If you don't think a world medalist team would have been able to overcome a three point BV difference on the strength of their GOE and PCS in previous seasons, we have a bridge to sell you in Brooklyn. Additionally, while we can't say that Hubbell/Donohue's free dance is one of our favorites of this season, or even this field, it's a position we're so often in that it doesn't even register at this point. Our tastes in programs and teams often run against the more popular opinions, if we declared a result illegitimate because we didn't personally care for a program, we'd have to throw out a lot of competitions. We're extremely used to analyzing and praising the strengths of teams and programs we'd cheerfully never watch again for the rest of our lives.

We're big fans of Stepanova/Bukin, and while we're disappointed for them, we thought the results were fair. And we’re not planning their funeral just yet, though we promise we do about the future of their career. This wouldn't be the first time fandom has declared a team over and prepared to dissect them and declare the exact cause of death only for the team in question to bolt upright on the table in the morgue, confused, full of life, and demanding to know why there are so many people hovering over them with scalpels. Sinitsina/Katsalapov's own career has been “over”, conservatively, at least six times over the past quad. We remember hearing very definitively that after they were put behind Zagorski/Guerreiro in the Nationals SD last season following more twizzle troubles that it was clear the Fed had dumped them for good and there was no point in them continuing. Now we're being told just as definitively that they're the Fed darlings because Nikita is an Olympic medalist(something which has been true for the past four years), so clearly someone here is confused. Additionally, we always thought it very possible that the top Russian team at GPF and the National Champion might not be same team, so the grieving strikes us as a little premature. It’s way too early to call, but we are very interested in how these storylines continue to play out through the rest of the season, and particularly how the new scoring system will continue to play out.