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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

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Honesty: Season 13 Destiel Fic Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10

or read on ao3

There's a scream.

Dean bolts from his room, feet pounding as he goes. He sees another figure in the dim glow of the hall.

Their eyes meet, hesitating for a moment, before entering the room and stopping in front of the crib.

Dean' vision fills with a tiny body, writhing uncomfortably, as wails force their way from his throat.

Fear drops, hard, in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Without a moments hesitation, he's bouncing Jack in his arms, attempting to sooth him.

His eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 4:56am. That can't be right, Jack has only been having the one bottle at 2:30 am, now. He has been for weeks. And even, then he's never-

(read the rest under the cut)

Jack's wails echo off the walls.

Dean finds Cas' eyes in the dark.

He's staring at Jack in shock, and hurriedly glances up at Dean, eyes swimming with terror and uncertainty.

Right. Even though he's been back for months, Cas has never had to raise a baby before, and he's gotten used to the routine with no unexpected surprises. Dean's terrified, but he can't image what Cas is feeling.

So Dean moves. Check the obvious first.

He crosses to the changing table, quickly disposing of Jack's diaper. Cas follows.

Dean sighs when it does nothing to quiet the kid's screams.

It wasn't the diaper, he definitely isn't hungry.

Was it a nightmar-wait can babies even get nightmar-

Focus Winchester. What could it b-of course, why didn't he think of this first?

It's because you're shit at this, his mind easily supplies.

A cold feeling washes over him.

God, could he be more stu-

"Dean"? Cas calls desperately, ripping him from his thoughts.

Dean quickly recovers, and places his hand on Jack's forehead.

He's warm, but is he actually warmer than usual?

Dean tries to get his brain to recall how Jack's normal body temperature feels, but he's drawing a complete blank.

Fuck

Dean feels the fear twist again as it crawls its way up his throat.

It washes over him in waves, but he can't do anything to stop it.

He has no idea what to do.

He's standing with a child wailing against his chest, a child who's life depends on Dean's ability to know what to do. And Cas is looking at him, terrified, waiting on Dean for instruction.

Dean suddenly can't control his breathing.

He's powerless.

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes and h-

"-Dean? Was his forehead warm? Did he have a fever"? Cas asks anxiously as he braces a hand on Dean's shoulder, searching his face for answers.

The warmth of Cas' palm pulls him back to reality.

Cas always knows what he nee-no now's not the time.

Dean swallows.

"No-well I mean I don't think he feels warmer than normal-at least as far as I can tell? But there's a thermom-"

"-oh wait, there's no there's no need-here let me" Cas trails off, as if he surprised himself and carefully takes Jack from Dean's arms.

He watches as he softly places his hand on Jack's forehead.

Then it hits him

Angel. Duh

He can read Jack's actual temperature with his palm, or figure out what's wrong with the touch of his fingers.

And they're both standing here like idiots, paralyzed by fear, when Cas is a friggin angel.

But in his defense, the kid has got him out of his scared out of his mind.

Dean trails his gaze up to Cas' face, watching his eyes closed in concentration, waiting for his mojo to do it's thing.

Sometimes, Dean forgets what Cas really is. Of course he knows that he's an angel, but like-he's Cas.

Yes, he's a badass, who's millions of years old, and could kill someone with the tap of his finger, Dean's well aware.

But when he's standing in front of you in a rumpled, purple sweater, a pair of sweatpants and his dorky bee pun socks, of all things, it's kinda hard not to forget.

Cas is just so human now. This change has been slowly happening over the years, but ever since he got back it's like the Cas he first stabbed in that barn, doesn't exist anymore.

Which isn't a bad thing at all, it just makes everything a little more confusing.

Which is why he's kinda been avoiding him ever sin-

What the hell is he doing? He needs to focus on Jack, what if h-

"His temperature is 101.1 I've read that babies his age can have a resting temperature as high as 100.3, but since he's only half human?" Cas' voice startles him out of his thoughts.

Jack is still wailing in his arms, as Cas bounces him from side to side. He's looking at Dean expectantly, waiting for his input. Dean can still see the worry clear on his features.

Taking a deep breath, he regains some control of his breathing.

Just a little fever. This, Dean can handle.

"Yeah that's a little high. We should change him into something lighter, see if that cools him down a bit? Then if not we can give him some baby Motrin, and go from there?” Dean suggests.

Then they're both moving. Cas placing Jack on the changing table, while Dean grabs some lighter pjs from the dresser.

Dean hovers as Cas, expertly switches out Jack clothes. He murmurs to Jack in his signature low, rumbling tone, and manages to get to calm him a bit.

Cas is getting good at this. It's like it's second nature to him now. He really has become an amazing Dad. In fact, he's so damn good with Jack, it makes Dean's stomach flip every time Cas pulls a laugh from him or manages to sing him back to sleep.

He watches as Cas slowly rocks Jack in his arms, humming under his breath.

And Dean is sent spiraling as soon as he recognizes the tune.

Lullabye.

By Billy Joel.

And yeah of course he's heard Cas sing this to Jack hundreds of times before, he does this every night, but Dean hasn't been around to hear it since that morning. Before he listened.

The morning they haven't spoken about at all. Cas never asked, and Dean-well Dean didn't exactly bring it up.

But now he's singing Billy fucking Joel, right in front of him.

And if Dean thought he was freaking out before, it's nothing compared to the crisis he's currently having.

It's not like he's actively been avoiding the subject, he jus--

"Oh" Cas gasps, pausing Dean's spiral.

His eyes instantly find their way back to Cas.

Cas has stopped in his tracks, peering down at Jack's now sniffling face.

Then he presses a soft kiss to his forehead, smiling to himself as he pulls away.

Jack's sniffling stops as Cas looks back at Dean with a soft smile.

"I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. I could have just taken away his fever with my grace, but I guess fear got the better of me".

Mojo, of course. Why the hell didn't either of them think of healing Jack, especially since they already both had the "duh angel" moment 10 minutes ago.

God this kids really gonna be the death of them, turing them into complete idiots only 8 months in.

"You and me both pal" Dean manages to respond with a strained laugh.

As soon as they’re sure Jack is asleep, they stand for a moment, hovering over the crib.

Dean pretends not to notice the way his heart races when Cas' arm brushes against his.

"Well looks like we can write about the kid's first fever in the baby book now, and about how it turned us into a couple of morons" Dean whispers in an attempt at a joke.

Beside him Cas hums in agreement with a soft chuckle, and they both head out of Jack's room.

Dean needs some water, or better yet, some coffee. He's definitely not sleeping after the heart attack he just had.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he notices Cas is following.

Something drops low in the pit of Dean's stomach.

Again, it's not like he has been completely avoiding Cas since that morning. They still hang out during the day, take care of Jack together, talk during the odd hours of the night, and they even have movie nights on Thursdays.

But it's different now. It's quieter, and there's an awkwardness to it that they both refuse to address.

It's like there's always something looming over them, just waiting to crush them.

And it's not like Dean doesn't want to talk about it, of course he does, but he just can't, he's not ready.

As he starts up the coffee maker, Cas drops into his usual seat, picking up his book where he left off. His head is resting in the palm of his hand, as he lazily flips through the pages, foot bouncing absentmindedly.

Looking just so completely human.

Which is the other issue.

Cas has always been a wildcard when it comes to emotions, and it's not like they ever sat down and had a conversation about what he does and doesn't feel.

So Dean always just assumed he experienced emotions, but like, subdued. Like Cas knew what he was feeling, he could name the feeling, but it didn't emotionally affect or sway him the way it did with humans.

And now Dean has no idea what to think, because he's sitting in the kitchen looking like he's been a functioning human being his entire life, and not a celestial warrior of God.

Which just makes everything harder, he just doesn't know what to do.

Dean pours his cup with a trembling hand, then with a heavy sigh, he grips the counter tightly, grounding himself.

Because Dean heard that mixtape.

He listened to it twice that morning, and he's lost count of how many times since.

He's memorized the songs, he's analyzed every lyric. It's all he's thought about every single day for two weeks.

And he knows what he heard.

His breathing quickens as anxiety washes over him, and he once again does nothing to stop it.

Which means that Cas understood the intention behind giving a mixtape.

Which means he understood the meaning behind the tape Dean had given him over a year ago.

He knows that Cas knows. He knows that's why Cas gave him one in return.

And logically, Dean knows he's right about all of this, but there's a part of him that still doesn't believe it's true.

Part of him still thinks he's just overthinking it. That Cas just gave it to him as a nice gesture and the songs had no deeper meaning behind them.

Because Dean can't let himself want Cas, and he can't hope that Cas might want him.

He knows he isn't worthy of him, that Cas deserves so much better. That he would just be a disappointment, and he'd screw everything up.

Because why would Cas ever want, a fuck up like hi-

"-Dean, are you alright" Cas' voice rips through his thoughts.

Dean swallows and dares a glance up.

He's met with wild hair, that stupid head tilt, and wide blue eyes, swimming with concern.

Cas

Dean's stomach flips and suddenly his mouth is moving before he can stop it.

"Cas I've gotta talk to you"

Cas tenses, hands clenching into fists, as the concern on his features is replaced with fear.

Great, one second in he's already fucked up.

Dean peers down as if his socked feet are the most interesting thing in the world, while trying to tame his increasing anxiety.

He takes a shuttering breath.

"I-I listened to the tape...." he trails off, mouth suddenly dry. He sneaks a glance up, to gage Cas' reaction.

And Cas goes white as a sheet, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Ye-yeah, I uh, liked it" Dean lamely tacks on, mentally cursing himself ("I liked it", seriously Winchester? That's what you went with?)

He watches as Cas' face goes through twelve different emotions, until landing on one Dean can't decipher.

"Oh.....well I'm glad you enjoyed it" Cas chokes out.

And in that moment, Dean doesn't know what comes over him. Maybe it's the way Cas looked at him, maybe it's the lingering adrenaline from Jack's fever scare, or maybe it's his complete lack of sleep.

But suddenly he's pacing around the kitchen, unable to shut up

"Yeah- I uh, well I actually listened to it a couple time-well more than a couple. I stopped keeping track after twenty"

He braves another glance at Cas who's frozen in fear at the table, so Dean continues before he loses his nerve. Hands flying, pointedly facing away from Cas.

"And I couldn't help but um, notice that a lot of the songs had a common theme? And I just never thou-"

"-Dean" Cas tries to interject, but Dean keeps going.

"-when I-when I gave you that mixtape last year, I never thought that you understo-and now you just gave me one, with all those songs and I can't help but think that you-that you might-that those songs might-I think you chose them for a reason-a specific reaso-"

"-Dean"

"-the same reason I di-and if I'm wrong then-fuck man, you can smite me right here, right now if I'm wrong-which I probably am. I'm probably just overthinking this whole thing and making myself look like an idiot. I'm probably just making a big deal out of nothing, like I alwa- "

"Dean, you're right"

"-always do, like I'm doing right now actually, acting like a dumba-"

Dean stalls, words catching in his throat.

Wait did Cas jus-no he must have heard him wr-

"Dean, you're right" Cas repeats behind him, voice trembling.

Dean's back is to him, as he grips the cool metal of the kitchen island again, refusing to turn around.

His heart races when he hears the scrape of a chair behind him.

"You're right, about wh-about why I made that tape, with those songs. I chos-I chose them for a reason" Cas continues, voice wavering.

Dean's thoughts are buzzing around his skull, he can't fully process what Cas' words.

Because Dean thinks he knows what he's trying to say.

But he can't possibly mean t-

"-I'm sorry, I-I have no idea what I was thinking. It was insane to give you that, when I know I can't-and now I've gone and ruined everything-"

Wait, he can't mean that. Dean just heard him wrong he can't hav-

But something, hope, he recognizes, pulls deep within him, and he grips the counter tighter. Maybe he did hear him right, may-.

No, Dean has to be sure first. He has to know for sure.

So Dean finds his voice.

"Cas, I-I think I know what you're trying to say bu-but I need you to say it. I need to be sure that I understand you, because I don't think I can handl-I just......." Dean trails off, voice breaking.

They stand in silence, and Dean's pretty sure Cas can hear his heart pounding against his chest.

His stomach drops, ice rushing through his veins.

Dean was wrong.

God of course he was wrong, and now Cas hates him. He's managed to fuck up the only friendship he's ever had, all because he can't just store his crap.

But no he has to be selfish and want Cas, and fuck u-

"I love you"

Dean's brain short circuits.

No-he can't have. No Dean heard that wrong, he's just tired an-

"-I do and, again I'm sorry, I truly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I love you Dean and I can't help it-"

Oh.

And without thinking, Dean moves.

"-And I know this ruins everything especially since I know you can't- that you don't-but I'm so-"

Dean grips Cas around the waist, as he smashes their lips together, effectively cutting Cas off.

Their teeth clank and their noses bump, but Dean doesn't care.

CasCasCasCasCasCasCasCas, is all his mind can supply.

Dean reluctantly pulls away, hands craddeling Cas's face, who's hands have somehow found their way around Dean's waist.

Dean stares down at him, unable to look away.

His hair is sticking up in every direction, blue eyes blown wide brimming with unspilled tears, lips parted in shock.

Cas.

"-Dean, what, why did yo..." Cas trails off, voice breaking.

And then it hits him.

Dean just kissed Cas. Dean just kissed his best friend because he said he loved him.

Cas said that he loved him. Cas loves Dean.

And Dean, loves him too.

God, he loves Cas.

"Because I do too- "Dean starts, voice breaking.

He looks into Cas' eyes, seeing the small sliver of hope behind them, and takes a shuttering breath.

"I love you. Damnit Cas, I've loved you for so long and I-"

"Me too Dean, I have for years, but I never dreamed that you- that you’d ever, return that feeling an-" Cas stops with a sob.

Dean shushes him, gently wiping some of Cas' tears away with his thumb.

He feels like he's floating.

They’re really standing in the kitchen with Cas' hands tightly gripping the back of his shirt.

A watery laugh rips past Dean's throat.

"God what a couple of dumbasses, huh? Could have done this years ago, all that wasted time" Dean says in disbelief.

"Yes, we have been a pair of dumbasses, for years it would seem. But that's okay, because we can have it now, right?” Cas asks, uncertainty clear in his voice.

Cas still doesn’t believe this is really happening, and Dean can’t say he blames him.

“Of course we can Cas” Dean responds with complete certainty, looking into his eyes.

He needs Cas to know that this is what Dean wants, he needs him to understand that it’s all Dean has wanted, for years. He is not going to screw this up.

And it must have worked because Cas is practically glowing. There's tear tracks on his cheeks, but his eyes are bright and shining with pure joy, a gummy smile on his lips.

God, I love him, I really love him, Dean thinks to himself.

Of course there's a long conversation to be had, and even longer conversations to come, because nothing is ever really this simple.

But Dean can't bring himself to care, because all of his focus is on the man in front of him. The man he's loved in silence for years. The man who loves him back.

Because for the first time in his life, Dean is going to let himself want. And what he wants, is Cas.

"Well....we better get started then" Cas quips with a smile, all traces of uncertainty gone (which definitely doesn't make Dean's stomach flip).

And with that, Cas' hands make their way to his neck, as he pulls him into another kiss.

And by God, it's the best damn kiss of Dean's life.

Because it feels like home, like this is where Dean’s meant to be.

So he easily melts into Cas' touch letting the love and warmth wash over him, soaking in every bit of Cas he can get.

And if in the morning, Sam finds them with their hands clasped across the kitchen table, as they take turns feeding Jack spoonfuls of applesauce.

Well, that's none of his business.

Tag list:

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants

@bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26

@multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs @multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea

(as always please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!💛)

#if it was unclear the mixtape fic WAS a part of this fic!!! and it is important to this part!!!#i literally dont know where this came from like i did not plan on doing this at all and yet...#✨but healing grace forehead kiss✨#look i let them be happy for once!!!(i mean they suffered in the beginning but like still happy!)#so this turned out extremely long i have no idea what happened i hope it makes sense #i started baby jack truthing and then it morphed into this and i just-well i hope you like it #destiel fic #baby!jack #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #bec writes #baby jack truthing #destiel #casdean #deancas #season 13 #dadstiel #dad!dean

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years

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Remember your past life - Prince! Harry Hook x Chosen Knight! Reader - part 16 - Captured Memories

@musicarose

“i’m not sure why all your memories have been depleted, the shrine of resurrection was never completely examined and it did not give any sign of chance of losing memories, It could be that you were in there for so long that your brain just…forgot?”

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, pouting slightly. Harry patted your shoulder and looked at Regina. “so how did I separate from my….here version?” he ended sounding slightly confused as to word out his question.

Regina understood but shrugged “that is something that I can't explain as well, i’m sorry your highness” Harry winced and waved his hands around.

“um, Harry is fine” Regina nodded, smiling at him, before turning back to you.

“do you have the sheikah slate?” you nodded and unclipped it from your hips, handing it over to her, she hummed, tapping the buttons and screen quickly.

“It seems it is fully functional if only missing the upgraded runes, is there any more questions?” Regina asked as she pulled up the camera rune. “ooh, wait a moment, it seems this is the camera prince harry used all those years ago….possibly if you visit these sights, you could regain your lost memories” she handed the slate back to you and you slowly nodded, glancing at the white stone platform with the shadow of the castle behind it.

“so that will be my request for you, visit these sights….and once you visit as least one, return to me, there is something the prince wanted me to give to you (y/n)” you glanced at harry slightly confused but agreed.

“yes, ma’am” Regina smiled and nodded.

“good, now your friends should be at the inn waiting for you, don’t keep them waiting, and I believe they will want an explanation.”

You sighed and nodded, harry standing first and holding out his hand to you, you smiled in thanks and grabbed it, letting him haul you up from the floor.

“Goodnight you two, sleep well”

“thank you” you muttered in sync, walking out of Regina’s home and to the inn, flinching as the entire group seemed to lunge at you for answers.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!”

You and harry carefully packed your bags, freezing when anyone moved or you heard something. Slowly sneaking out of the inn, you bought a bag of food and some flint, sheathing the sword from the training shrine on top of the nearby mountain.

Harry looked to you, a worried look on his face “lass are yeh sure about this”

“This isn’t their fight Harry, I need to find out what happened, and I need to find out how to help, I feel like this is all my fault” you whispered, swallowing down the pit in your throat. “I can't get them involved” harry frowned, pressing his lips together.

“i-I understand lass, but well still have to come back to get whatever “I” wanted to you have” he finger quoted as he referenced his past life.

“I know, it seems though I can….teleport with the shrines?” you chuckled, sending a comforting look to Harry as you climbed onto (horse name) “harry, they’ll be fine, this place is untouched by the dark one, and it'll stay that way”

“promise?” he asked quietly as he mounted his horse, you lead your horse to him, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“promise”

You peeked at the picture, it seemed to match up perfectly with the archway in front of you. “um, I think this is it?” you muttered, holding it up, smiling as you matched the picture with the present archway. “It is!”

“great….now what-“ you and Harry froze, watching as the world blurred out, flashes of shadows and people coming to mind.

---

You slowly followed Harry as he numbly walked down the mountain path, tears burning at his eyes, you mentally sighed as you spotted the other champions waiting at the archway.

“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense.” Gil pushed, not realizing Harry's state of mind “How’d everything go up there on the mountain?”

Harry just shook his head, pressing his lips together, eyes on his feet. “So you didn’t feel anything?” an older teen asked, his fiery red hair hidden under a green cap ” No power at all?”

“no, I’m sorry” Harry finally muttered, swallowing harshly, trying to keep the tears back.

A tall young woman, her wild black hair that matched Harry's, Harriet, walked up to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder “Then let’s move on. You’ve done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t be of any help. After all, it’s not like your last shot was up there on Mt. Lanayru. Anything could finally spark the power to seal the dark one away. We just have to keep looking for that…thing” she comforted, smiling slightly as she rubbed his shoulder.

“Thanks, Harriet” he gave her a small smile. Looking at her in the corner of his eye.

“if I may” harry looked to Uma confused, tilting his head. “i’m never sure on how to put this into words, but maybe it could help. But when I use my magic, I usually think about-“

The ground shook, thunder echoed across the plains, harry stumbled back, you ran forward, grabbing onto him and stabilizing him.

Uma turned, her eyes glowing slightly as she created a water vortex and launched up into the sky, gasping as she caught sight of the dark energy erupting from the castle.

“it's here” Harriet muttered gravely, fingers tensing on Harry's shoulders.

“This is it then” Gil hummed, flexing his fists as Uma descended back to the ground.

“Are you sure?” the red-haired teen asked Uma, looking up to the darkening sky.

“positive” Uma growled, anxiety for Harry and the kingdom settling in her bones.

“it's awake” Harry muttered, fear building in his eyes “the dark one!”

Gil's eyes narrowed, turning to the other champions “Let’s stop wasting time! We’re gonna need everything we got to take that thing down! Now we need to get to the beasts! Show that swirling swine who’s boss! (y/n) will need to meet the dark one head-on when we attack! This needs to be a unified assault! (y/n)!” you looked to Gil, a determined spark lighting in your chest “You get to the Castle. You can count on us for support. But it’s up to you to pound the dark one into oblivion!”

Harriet took Harry's arm, beginning to lead him away “come on Harry, let's get you somewhere safe”

“no!” Harry ripped his arm away “I'm not a little kid anymore, I might not have the power but there has to be something I can do!”

Harry turned to you, and you nodded, for once leading the way as the battle for Saorsa began

---

You gasped as the world returned to normal, Harry stumbling back slightly as he also snapped out of whatever that…memory thing was.

“Uma and Gil? They were apart of this?” you muttered, hearing Harry mutter Harriet's name. “maybe we should have-“

“no” harry stopped you “no, if they got caught up in this once before I don’t want them to get caught up in it again, they stay in storybrooke”

You slowly nodded, following harry back as he mounted his horse and started to go back to the village.

“let's go” he muttered.

--end of part 16--

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missbugaboo · 4 years

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That Other Guy (2)

“Why does it matter so much to you? What’s so terrible about Adrien Agreste that you can’t stand him as your competition – even though it changes absolutely nothing for you? What in magic’s name makes him such a hateful rival?” Or, Chat Noir finally learns who Ladybug’s dream guy is, but somehow, he’s not pleased at all. For more reasons than one.

LadyNoir, Adrienette.

fanfiction.net / AO3

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Chapter 2: Just Let Me Fall Apart

What happened afterwards was really quite simple, amounting to no more than one word overall.

Run.

That was the word Ladybug kept hearing, from the moment she had turned away from Cat to when she was safely distanced from him not so many moments later. A little word that burned her mind with the obstinacy behind it, urging her to keep up her pace or speed it up if she could, daring her to break her own records before her feet had first left the ground.

Threatening her with all the consequences that would instantly fall on her in case she had not.

So she did. She ran as if there was no tomorrow, as if her very life depended on how fast she could flee. She ran away – from Cat, from herself, from the fears and anxiety that were sure to overcome her if she as much as considered making a stop.

And thus even though her own exhaustion was enough to slow her down from time to time, taking over her like a wave and successfully ruining her gait, it could never last long. Each of those times, Ladybug would slacken or lose her rhythm, only to pick up her pace again the next moment, going faster and faster after every such lapse.

There was no plan for it, there wasn’t a bigger strategy to follow. Only the simple knowledge that as long as she sprinted in the dark, she could keep her emotions at bay, if not by distracting herself, then at least by keeping her distance from what had caused them to resurface in the first place.

Frightened and confused as she might be, she was no more willing to let her fears swallow her than she usually was.

And yet, her stubbornness and strength could only get her this far. Focused on her internal struggle, she forgot to take her physical state into the equation; lost in her thoughts, she paid no mind to the passage of time or the length of the distance she had covered so far. Her suit gifted her with endurance; her powers gave her the confidence to trust in it blindly.

It wasn’t long before she was reminded that even the Ladybug miraculous had its limits.

And so she stumbled. Once, twice, a few more times afterwards. She ignored the fact each time, just as she ignored her own weariness or the tears that blurred her sight, determined not to give in to what to her was nothing but a misplaced turmoil of the heart. As if to punish her for her tenacity, her body wavered under her weight: she stumbled again, this time nearly losing her balance and meeting the ground face first. She regained it in the last possible moment… and then did what she had been doing for the bigger part of an hour.

She resumed her run.

Still, even this determined she could not prevent what was inevitably coming. For the last time, she faltered, and this time, her stumble turned out to be a real one; a great finale to this sorrowful, miserable act.

One moment she was moving her legs in a frenzied chase, jumping from one foot to the other almost frantically – the next found her on her knees as she rolled over in order to break that most unprofessional fall.

Really, it was only thanks to her luck that the roof she was traversing was a flat and broad one.

She came to a halt seconds later. Propped on her outstretched arms and panting heavily, she was able to fight neither her physical exhaustion nor the mental fatigue that had finally caught up to her; both of which seemed to strike at her with doubled force now, as if wanting to prove just how pointless her flight had been from the start.

As if she hadn’t already known that.

With the last ounce of strength, Ladybug raised her head and looked around, searching for a haven that could somehow shelter her in this most difficult of times. She did not wish for much; she knew she was nowhere near her home, as well as that no other place could shelter her in the way her own room would.

Besides, where else was she to go? Even if Alya had lived right under the roof she was currently kneeling on, it still wouldn’t have made a difference. She couldn’t talk to her about this – she couldn’t talk to anyone, really. Not to Alya, not to her own mother, not to any of her numerous, caring friends. It was between her and Cat Noir; and heavens knew she could not talk to him, either.

In the corner of her eye she spotted a chimney. It was wide and tall enough for her to hide behind it, or maybe even rest her back against it comfortably… and it was mere meters away from when she was now. In an instance she was up, walking over to the spot, slouched under the burdens of her worries and the gushes of the wind that had suddenly started to howl. She reached her destination seconds later and, proud of her little victory, she let out a long, wistful sigh.

And then she sunk down, with her back against the cold bricks and her legs pulled to her chest, as she pressed her face against her now trembling knees.

Forgetting all of her previous resolutions, she finally allowed herself to cry.

It was forty minutes and a few sets of tears later that Ladybug finally returned to her own home. Too weary to think of all proper precautions, she hoped that the quick look around from her balcony was enough this time. Of course, she knew she should have been more careful; and of course that the way she was acting could fairly be named irresponsible, not to mention that under normal circumstances she would have been the first to point all that out.

If only she could bring herself to care.

She opened the trapdoor that led to her bedroom and jumped down hastily, her transformation dropping before her feet could even touch the mattress below. She could feel Tikki appear next to her and fly up to her face not a second later, with a look of concern reflecting all over her minuscule face. To Marinette, that was hardly a surprise; she knew her mouse-bug well, and expected nothing less than the gentle show of affection her kwami was about to display.

It was just one more thing that made her love Tikki as much as she did – and yet, even that could be of no comfort to her right now.

“I need a shower,” Marinette announced quietly, though with a note of firmness ringing in her voice. “I’m gonna have one real quick, and then I’d like to go to bed as soon as possible, so… Oh my goodness, Tikki, don’t look at me like this.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it first?” Tikki protested, once again following her Chosen, as the latter rummaged through her drawers in search of pyjamas.

Marinette merely shook her head in response.

Tikki sighed deeply but didn’t give up on her quest. “Please, Marinette, I know it may be hard, but if you keep it bottled up like this, it will only grow until -”

“I’ll be fine,” the girl cut her off impatiently. “I’ve spent the past hour or more thinking about everything that had happened on that roof, crying my eyes out and feeling guilty for something that has never been my fault. I know it’s not over yet; I know I’ll have to go back and face it again and soon. And I guess I could talk to you about it now,” she paused for a second and took a deep breath before continuing, “But if I do, I’ll only fall apart again, when I have just managed to pull myself together. I think you understand how going through that particular breakdown is the last thing I want right now.”

“What if it’s what you need, though?”

“What I need above all now is sleep, Tikki. I understand why you’re worried… But there is nothing you or I can do about it now. I need a rested, well-functioning brain while at the moment mine is everything but. Not to mention, I still have school to attend in the morning, remember?”

She left the room with her words echoing after her and a small, reassuring smile tugging on her lips The expression changed as soon as the door closed behind her, the heartache once again replacing the fake pose taken up for her kwami’s sake. She didn’t feel fine at all, nor did she expect it to change in the nearest future.

All she wished for was a chance to curl up in her bed and give in to her sobbing in the same way she had done before; to shout out her frustration and anger into the soft pillows without worrying that it would undoubtedly wake up her parents if she did; to be free to crumble down once again and not to think of how Tikki would take it.

She did not want to talk about it.

She just wanted to cry.

And as she stepped into the shower tray and the steam and water engulfed her, she decided to do just that.

So, yes, Ladybug – Marinette – was a mess. All of the emotions she had faced since her talk to Cat Noir, all of the feelings that had come to her after she'd left seemed to add up to one another, combining in the way she never would have thought possible before. Grief and anger, disappointment and wounded pride, tiredness and impatience and ire – they had come to her one by one and stayed, blending into the poisonous mixture that left her wanting nothing but to forget it all; to fall asleep immediately and then wake up in a reality where none of it was true.

Or at least one in which she could think it wasn't.

And yet, as exhausted and hurt as she was, those feelings began to fade eventually. The shower that had only been meant to serve as an excuse had proven to be of real, substantial help. The hot water that at first was nothing but a camouflage to her tears had also washed away some of her physical weariness in the process, while the gentle sound of it tapping against the tray calmed down her nerves on the more spiritual level.

All in all, when she had finally left the bathroom and entered her own room once more, her equilibrium was at least partially restored. She still wanted to hide under her duvet and weep; still felt like any attempt at trying to talk her worries through with Tikki would end up with disaster; still couldn't comprehend why her companion and the best of human friends could have treated her so unjustly, accusing her of crimes she had never committed. There was also a new resolution taking form in her, however, and when she had climbed onto her bed at last, she was more than determined not to pay the situation any more attention at the time.

She flopped onto the mattress, covered herself entirely and, contrary to what she had expected, fell asleep before she could shed more than a few tears.

If only she knew how far from such blissfulness was the boy who had unleashed the turmoil for them both.

#my writing #fanfiction #mlb #ladynoir #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

In Need

Title: In Need

Part Five of ‘In His Place’

Marks series

Author: Gumnut

26 - 29 May 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: “Why do you do this to yourself?”

Word count: 2953

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Wing!fic, not my usual fare.

Timeline: TBA

Author’s note: This is part five. @the-lady-razorsharp and I are writing this series together. You can find the entirety of the story on Ao3 in order under both our profiles. This one explains a bit more. Thank you all for your wonderful support in this venture of ours. We hope you are enjoying it as much as we’re enjoying writing it :D

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Alan was running out of brothers.

He returned to John with some breakfast only to find the tension in the room had skyrocketed. John had tears in his eyes, and, oh my god, so did Scott. What the hell?

Something was wrong.

He opened his mouth to ask, but the expression on his eldest brother’s face had him shutting it again.

The youngest was always the protected one. He knew when he wasn’t wanted.

A soft word to John, a brush of fingers against his arm, a glance a Scott and he left.

Perhaps he should go to Virgil. His second eldest brother had always had an ear for him, a kind word of encouragement...

But Virgil had disappeared into his workshop a week ago. Alan had attempted to see him several times, but the man was obsessing over something and didn’t want to talk. To anyone. Alan had even seen Grandma leaving the workshop despondent. Kayo was volatile and worth hiding from if he valued his life. Brains was the only person who managed to hold a conversation with Virgil, but that appeared to be in another language, the engineering concepts were so far above him.

Everything was out of whack, off kilter. IR was barely functioning with two operatives down and everyone was hurting.

Including Alan.

After all, one brother with limbs missing and almost dead from blood loss, and another brother broken in more ways than one.

The only brother left was Gordon.

And god, he needed to talk to him.

Normally, Gordon was his go-to anyway. He went to all his brothers for various things, but Gordon was closest in age and they had always been a pair. So yes, Gordon was most often his confidant and he didn’t hesitate to approach the aquanaut for help.

Except this time, he couldn’t be found.

Tracy Island was under a cloud bank of grief and anxiety. The whole house was steeped in it and this morning the weather was echoing the depression by providing a thick sea fog that obscured everything.

If a brother wanted to hide, it would be easy.

Alan had scoured the house, with no trace of his next eldest brother anywhere. The hangars were next, but module four was empty and, with the exception of Virgil’s workshop, there was no indication that any brother had been down here for days.

That left the beach. If Gordon was worried, he would seek out the ocean. Of course, there was the chance he was in the ocean, but Alan had hope that he hadn’t swum off to wherever it was he ended up on his ocean forays.

He took a guess and headed out to one of his brother’s favourite spots - a rocky beach directly opposite Mateo. It had an array of rock pools always full of life. Gordon had even created a few artificial pools of his own for study purposes. Alan had secretly named it Bay de Gordo. Gordon called it Butt Beach for reasons only known to Gordon.

The fog swirled around him as he made his way past the palm trees and around the bluff. Visibility was minimal and if he hadn’t known the island as well as he did, he could have stumbled himself an injury. It was ghostly. Jagged rock appeared to emerge from the mist and there was no wind. The whole island appeared to be holding its breath.

As the water came into view, Alan let out a breath as a humanoid shape was sketched out in the gloom. Iconically, his brother was decked out in only his swimwear, standing on half-submerged rocks in the lagoon.

Staring out to sea.

“Gordon?”

His brother didn’t respond. He was focussed on the hidden horizon.

“Gordon?”

Alan put his foot onto the first of the rocks and stepping-stoned his way out to the silent figure.

“Gordon!”

The aquanaut startled. “Alan? What the hell?”

“I’ve been calling you.”

“Oh. What do you want?”

Alan frowned. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Sure.”

“What do you want, Alan?”

He fought the urge to take a step back. “To talk.”

“About what?”

“Uh, stuff?”

His brother looked away for a moment, his eyes wandering to the lack of horizon again. A sigh and Gordon ran a hand across his face and into his hair. “Sorry, Allie. This sucks.”

Alan let his shoulders drop. “No kidding.”

Nothing was said for a few minutes, both brothers thinking. But Alan needed to talk. He had to.

“Gordon, why is Scott crying?”

The aquanaut’s head shot up. “Crying? Scott’s crying?”

“Kinda? He had tears in his eyes. John, too.”

A moment of decision in his eyes and Gordon’s whole posture slumped. “It’s Virgil.”

“What?”

“Scott found him pulling out his own feathers attempting to make new ones for John.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Something about needing data. There are gaps in his mark and he was bleeding. Kayo was livid. She and Scott have him bailed up in the infirmary.”

“He was hurting himself? On purpose?” Something inside Alan twisted in pain.

“He said it was the only way. Wants to continue. Needs to pull out more.”

Alan stared at his brother. Gordon obviously wasn’t taking this any better than Alan. His lips were thin enough to be bloodless.

But then Alan thought of John. Of his mangled mark and those two horrible gouges in his back. He thought of his own golden span, as blond as his hair, catching the sun as he flew ever so fast over the ocean. To have that torn from him. To never soar to those heights again.

He looked down at his feet. “I can understand that.”

Gordon was staring. He could feel those russet-brown eyes on him. Out of all five brothers, Gordon would be least likely to understand the joy of flying with only wings for support as he had none of his own.

“Gordon, wouldn’t you do almost anything to help John?”

Voice quiet. “Almost.”

“Then you can’t begrudge Virgil the attempt.”

“I don’t.”

Alan frowned. “What?”

“I don’t.” An indrawn hiss between teeth. “Allie, I need to do some laps.”

“Gordon, can’t we just talk about this a bit?”

“I-“ Gordon was obviously caught between his need for the sea and Alan’s need for him. “Can you give me half an hour? I just need...the water.”

“Okay.” Alan swallowed. “I’ll wait for you here.”

“Thanks, Alan.” He reached out and caught Alan’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze, before turning back towards the sea. The unique mark on his brother’s back shimmered grey and silver, the lines shifting and reforming shape in the foggy gloom.

There were no feather lines on Gordon’s back. Gordon was different from all his brothers. His mark was not static. It shifted with mood and need and want. Today it shifted into a complex wide diamond shape with a thin tail trailing down his back into his swimwear.

And unlike his brothers, when he activated his mark, the mark did not lift from his skin, it sunk into it. The lines sculpting his body, absorbing the human and creating the form chosen.

Today, his mark shone as the aquanaut jumped from stone to stone, gathering momentum. On the last rock, he leapt into the air and, in a swirl of fog, shifted into an eagle ray, diving into the water and disappearing beneath the waves.

Gordon’s transformations never left Alan without a shiver and a wonder of exactly how it felt.

And if he would ever see his brother again.

-o-o-o-

Virgil woke slowly, more slowly than usual and once enough neurons had fired in the right sequence, he recognised the remains of sedation.

Scott.

Damnit.

Rolling onto his back reminded him exactly why Scott might have seen knocking him out a necessary solution. Pain shot up and down his mark and he was forced to roll back onto his stomach.

Ow.

There had been yelling. Scott had been furious. But it was scared furious, not anger. He had terrified his brother.

He sighed as yet another wave of guilt washed over him. A cough, a grimace and he closed his eyes against the images that wouldn’t stop haunting him.

A beach off eastern Australia on the way back from a successful mission. It had been unusual to have John and Kay with him instead of Gordon and Alan. But change could be as good as a holiday and they had a few moments so under the pretence of grabbing a few extra rays of sunshine for John, they had set Thunderbird Two down on the beach and taken a moment for a breather.

John was down from TB5 for a break and it had been great to have his little brother along for the ride. Kay had been an extra pleasure and despite the seriousness of a rescue, they had taken those moments to bond a little and freshen up a few of John’s land-based skills. The beach on the way home had just been a bonus.

Some bonus.

Ten minutes after they had landed, a ship had appeared in the sky, Alan had started yelling in their ears and suddenly there were falling children.

Children. The bastard had thrown children off his ship and watched them fall. All to get the two Tracy boys to do exactly what they did.

Virgil didn’t even think. He was in lift, his mark phasing through his uniform within seconds, wings spreading, his boots tossing up sand as he took a running leap into the air.

John was only a second behind him.

Two children, two rescuers. It was simply planned, but effective. Virgil caught the little boy, John a little girl. Kay had boarded TB2, opening and raising the overhead hatch. Virgil had back-winged, killing off his descent velocity enough to hand the child to Kay, before regaining altitude to help John.

Because behind them was an ominous buzzing. John had his hands full with the little girl and three flying mechanical creatures with outstretched claws were narrowing in on him.

Again, Virgil didn’t think.

Perhaps he should have. It might have changed the outcome.

He threw himself between John and the mechas, his laser deployed, slicing one from the sky almost immediately.

“Virgil Tracy, is it?” On loudspeaker from flying mechanical bugs, it was creepy enough to make him pause. “You’ll do nicely.”

The two remaining mechas suddenly became four and Virgil became seriously outnumbered. Kay was yelling at him over comms that the children were safe. He needed to return to Thunderbird Two.

Easier said than done. He took another one out with his laser, but Virgil couldn’t hover and the bugs had greater manoeuvrability than he.

One clamped onto his right wing and yanked. The pain was blinding. The world spun as he lost altitude and began to fall, mecha grinding bone against metal.

But the sun shone off his brother’s glorious white wings. John’s hands caught him, those wings a white blur of muscle and intent, working ever so hard to stop his spin. John’s hands on his right pinion, untangling the bug’s claw from Virgil’s wing and flinging it away.

The other two mechas snatching his brother from behind, claws digging into white feathers.

Laughter over the loudspeakers.

His own hoarse yell and then his scream as the bug grabbed his wing again and simply broke it. Discarding both him and his wing, it joined the attack on his brother.

No!

That last image of John caught in all those claws; red flecking white as he struggled.

He couldn’t reach his little brother. Couldn’t save him. His wings couldn’t support him. He was falling. The planet up and hit him, ripping conscious thought from his mind.

Kay had to tell him what happened next. Apparently, Thunderbird One had torn onto the scene. It was Scott who caught John as he fell, discarded by the bugs as they buzzed off, precious feathers in their grip. Both John and Virgil had been bundled onto TB2 and there had been a mad dash for Tracy Island.

Virgil had woken in this very room to find out his little brother had had his wings torn from his body and would never fly again.

Scott had tears in his eyes.

Scott.

Crying.

Virgil scrunched his eyes shut and had to force the breath he was holding from his body.

His back complained.

He had lain in this bed as long as he could, but eventually he had fled. Kay had followed and he found himself climbing the stairs to John’s observatory. Perhaps seeing John himself would have been more sensible, but he couldn’t face his brother, unconscious or not.

He still hadn’t seen the astronaut.

How could he face him after such failure?

Virgil adored his brothers, all four of them, but there was something connecting John, Gordon and himself, the middle three. There always had been. He knew the moment Gordon was born. He knew when the bullies cornered John in school - the bullies regretted it immediately. He knew when they were injured or ill. There was something connecting them, something keeping them safe.

But from the moment he had awoken in this room, it had been different.

John was in pain.

John was unconscious, but he was in pain.

At first, Virgil had been unable to get out of bed, so it had been Kay and Scott reassuring him that John was recovering, that he was okay.

But Virgil could feel him. He wasn’t okay.

It was as if ripping off his brother’s wings had ripped open their connection. Virgil could feel that shredded mark as if it was his own. He found himself lifting his wingspan just to reassure himself he still could.

And the emotion. He found himself upset at the slightest thing. There was anger. There was sadness, regret and loss. It was as if he was running the course of grief, but not of his own. He found it difficult to control, difficult to keep calm.

And John was still unconscious.

Confused and caught up in his own response, he told no one. Instead he channelled it. John had lost his wings. John need new wings. It became as simple as that.

Virgil had an artist’s hands and an engineer’s mind. He would make his little brother wings. Not wings to replace his own, but wings that could never be torn from him again.

The concept lit a spark and Virgil made it happen.

A light metal-polymer composite laced with cahelium, finely sculpted by laser. He built pinions large enough to support his brother’s weight and strong enough to fight a hurricane. Artificial muscles supported by an electronic nerve fibre network that on consultation with Brains could interface with his brother’s nervous system.

Brains was working on the most integral component. On lift, their wings phased from an otherspace to their space. They were contained within the mark and were summoned on lift. Brains had found a way to access that otherspace, to manipulate objects within it. To call for the lift.

This is what the Hood had been after. Virgil had no doubt it was. How he had found out about it, the engineer did not know, but the bastard knew and he wanted it.

There was no word in existence that could express the hate Virgil felt for that man. He had taken his father and he had hurt his brother so badly.

The room around him blurred and Virgil had to take a moment to control himself.

A blink. A frown.

John was awake.

His brother wasn’t very far away. Just in the room next door. It was like he was hearing an echo of his brother’s thoughts. No words, no pictures, just expression.

He knew the moment he stumbled out of bed and caught sight of the damage that had been done. The emotion washed over Virgil and his breath caught.

And he heard John call his broken feathers to lift.

Virgil gasped. God, it hurt, but the echo was suddenly overwhelmed by his own body’s pain as his black feathers were called forth.

His mark seared hot as his span manifested. His right wing attempted to unfold and the broken bone screamed at him. It had been healing, but he had been pulling feathers in order to digitally print crucial parts of his creation and it had been exacerbated. The medic in his head feared an infection. The agony at this unexpected stretch almost confirmed it.

Abruptly John aborted his lift, the call faded, and his sea of emotion calmed somewhat.

Eight metres of ink black wingspan collapsed to the floor either side of his bed and Virgil whimpered.

John had called his feathers. How? He let out a breath and blinked tears from his eyes.

Ow.

“Virgil!”

Oh shit. Kay.

She was standing in the doorway glaring at his limp wings. “You can’t keep lifting like this! You need to rest to heal.”

Virgil swallowed, tensed, and folded his span inch by painful inch. His eyes were scrunched shut by the time they were properly retracted. A gasp and he let them go.

His mark flared hot as his feathers settled.

He was panting. There were tears in his eyes again and he blinked them madly away.

A hand on his cheek, gentle, brushing at his stubble.

“I’m sorry.” His voice came out harsh. He blinked again.

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

He opened his mouth to answer and couldn’t. Another swallow and he found a rough whisper. “I don’t know.”

His back ached as pushed himself up and reached for her, but it was worth it to wrap his arms around her. He buried his face in her neck and clung.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #john tracy #kayo kyrano #alan tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #marks and wings #virgil/kayo

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ailithnight · 6 years

Text

I had an idea and kind of ran with it. The idea was, what if all the characters Thomas ever plays pop up in the mindscape, but they fade away when Thomas doesn’t ‘use’ them. So... this happened. Enjoy!

Title: Remy the Character and Virgil the Side Word Count: 2951 Content Warnings: Major Character Death, Crying, Mild Self Deprecation, Minor Anxiety, Angst

Tagslist: @moose-squirrel05, @didsomeonesayprince, @readeatfightlove13, @theamberrose97, @anxious-vigil, @helianthusaster If I missed you, my apologies. My Tagslist note got deleted and I’m working on memory. Feel free to shoot me a message.

When he first popped up in the mindscape, Virgil’s heartrate went out of control. It wasn’t that he was startled by the new character popping up. Characters popped up in Thomas’s head all the time. Any character he had ever played; even one off, nameless, barely even different from Thomas shorts characters. Virgil had lost count of how many characters had popped up from various vines. Most of them had faded within a week. Occasionally one would stick around longer. Stitch Thomas, Stewie Thomas, Narrator Thomas, they were all still hanging in the mindscape. It just depended on how much Thomas used them and explored them and fed life into them. If Thomas didn’t do that, they faded. It’s okay. That’s just how his mind worked. Surprise wasn’t what kicked Virgil’s heart into high gear. No, it was something much more painful than that.

“Virgil! Come meet the new character!” Virgil had finally rolled out of bed at 10am. Patton was in the kitchen cooking, not abnormal for the fatherly trait. Roman and Logan were on the couch with someone new between them. Roman had been the one to call for Virgil’s attention, consequently calling the new guy’s attention to him. Their head turned. Virgil saw a pair of dark shades perched in their hair before his eyes travelled lower to meet theirs.

“Hey Gurl! I’m Sleep, but you can call me Remy. How you doin?” Every time Roman boasted his incomparable beauty, Logan liked to point out that they all had the same face and therefore must all be equally beautiful. Roman always responded, no, they were different. To be honest, Virgil had never understood that sentiment before. But in that moment, he did. He was pretty sure not he, nor any of the others, had ever looked as attractive as this man was before him now. Virgil was grateful for his pale foundation. Otherwise, he’d probably look lit up like a Christmas tree right now. It took him a few moments to regain motor control, after which he promptly ducked his head and mumbled.

“Hey. Anxiety. Virgil. Good. You?” The choppy sentence drew concerned gazes from Logan and Roman, but a gleeful laugh from Remy. Virgil swore he heard angels at the sound of it.

“I was doing fantastic.” Virgil’s heart stuttered at the use of past tense. “But even better now that you’re here.” Oh. Okay. Yep, definitely. Definitely blushing right now. Virgil shuffled his feet down off the stairs, too embarrassed to look up and make eye contact again. But despite the mild discomfort of embarrassment, Virgil still felt very light and happy. The erratic beating of his heart was not accompanied by panic and paranoia. Quite the opposite in fact. Virgil felt calmer then than he had since probably his first role in the Sanders Sides series. Thankfully, Virgil’s shy disposition seemed to do nothing against Remy’s spirit. “Ooh, Gurl, that eye shadow is on point. But that foundation is a bit uneven. We have got to swap make-up tips sometime.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. But, breakfast right now.” Virgil shuffled his way across the room. Patton had placed a plate of eggs and bacon and a cup of coffee on the breakfast bar. Virgil quietly thanked him and sat down to eat while Roman and Logan continued whatever conversation they were having with Remy before he came down. While they conversed, Virgil tried to place the strange feeling that had grown in his chest. It was similar to how he felt around the other sides, but also different. Kind of… bouncier. And much more sudden. It had taken a while for Virgil to really grow to like the other sides. Sure, he’d loved them the moment he formed, a generic side, a carbon copy of Thomas, before Thomas had created a character for him. Virgil had loved the others from his first breath and would until his last. The actual liking part hadn’t happened until post Accepting Anxiety when they started hanging out more and Virgil got to know them as people instead of functions with faces that hated his guts. This feeling was almost like that love. But still not the same. Not as deep. So, it’s not quite love but not friendship either. It’s light and bouncy. Calm, but also excited. A tiny bit nervous. It’s. It’s.

“It’s a crush, Kiddo.” Virgil nearly dropped the fork half way to his mouth. Patton had leaned over and whispered in his ear, then pulled back. A cheeky, knowing grin was spread across his face. Virgil eyed him suspiciously, but Patton just chuckled and spoke lowly, so as not to alert the others. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask Roman.” Virgil felt his checks light up again at the thought of talking to Roman about his feelings. They weren’t quite that far into their friendship yet.

“No, I’ll. I’ll take your word for it.” It did make sense after all. Virgil had never had a crush, but he’d had plenty of second hand experience through Thomas. A small smile tugged at Virgil’s lips as his mind played with the idea of a crush. Then a new thought occurred to him that instantly soured Virgil’s mood.

“What kind of character is Remy?” Patton gave him a strange look and Virgil realized he had spoken louder than intended.

“I’m a shorts character, like Brain. Why?”

“Just… curious.” Virgil resolutely returned to eating. If Remy was just a shorts character, in all likelihood, he’d be faded by next week, next month if he was lucky. Virgil suppressed a sigh. His first and possibly only crush, and the guy wouldn’t even be around all that long. Virgil barely knew the guy, but the thought of him fading gave Virgil’s heart a painful squeeze. Perhaps it would be best to just avoid Remy. Don’t feed into this feeling when it’s already doomed. Yes, Virgil decided. He’d do the make-up tips then avoid Remy at all costs. Guy probably wouldn’t even like him much anyway. Virgil was way out of Remy’s league. Why even bother when at best, Remy would fade and at worst, Virgil would make an absolute fool of himself. Nope. No thank you. This crush is officially cancelled.

The crush was so not cancelled. After breakfast, Virgil had taken Remy up to his room. Remy didn’t have his own room since he was a character, not a side. Normally, characters chilled in the commons or Roman’s realm (Again, the differences between side and character playing to their advantage as they were unaffected by the rooms). But after their exchange of make-up knowledge, it had become almost impossible to get Remy to leave Virgil’s room unless Virgil himself did. Most of the time, he chilled downstairs in the replica of Thomas’s living room, even sleeping on the sofa down there. Virgil was usually on the computer in the bedroom, so they didn’t actually do that much interaction. But the knowledge that he was there was enough to feed hope into Virgil’s heart. And occasionally, Virgil would join Remy downstairs and watch something on the tv. And they would chat sometimes, then Virgil would go back upstairs. Then they’d go get something to eat and probably talk more then. Then they’d go back to Virgil’s room or one of the others or another character would catch Remy and he’d go hang with them. But he’d always end up back in Virgil’s room. It was weird. But nice. But also painfully. Every day, Remy became a little less solid, a little more transparent, a little less there, a little more faded. And as Remy was fading, Virgil’s crush was developing into something stronger. The entire time, Remy’s flirtatious demeanor never changed. One night, during a Disney movie marathon, Remy slid his arms around Virgil’s shoulder, eliciting a stark contrast of giddiness and pain. After a couple of weeks, Virgil couldn’t take it anymore.

“Could you knock it off!”

“Knock what off, Virge?” That smug smirk. Virgil couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch his lips or kiss them. Probably both what with the acrobatic act he was putting his heart through.

“This… flirtatious shit or whatever it is. If you can’t stop, go do it to someone else why don’t you?”

“I don’t want to flirt with anyone else.”

“Well why not? I’m sure just about anyone else would be better at it than me.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. Besides, I don’t want to flirt with anyone else cause I don’t like anyone else.”

“I thought you were friends with everyone else.”

“Aw. You’re adorable, did you know that?” Virgil’s face flushed red and he ducked his head. A finger came over and lifted his chin and suddenly, Remy’s face was millimeters from Virgil’s. Whatever anxious or self-deprecating thought had been running through Virgil’s had in that moment, it stopped, along with just about everything else in his brain. “Virgil, I like you. As in, like like. I’ve had a crush on you since you first walked down those stairs when I first showed up.” Virgil felt his face heat up more, which he was certain Remy could feel from proximity. The character chuckled and closed the gaps between their faces. The kiss was short, but it made Virgil’s heart jump in a way that was both exhilarating and painful. When Remy pulled away, Virgil struggled to form a coherent sentence. He opened his mouth and breathed out, perhaps for the first time in the last 40 seconds. A single word worked its way put with the breath.

“Why?” Remy flashed a broad grin that had Virgil’s heart spasming all over again.

“Because you’re cute. A like you’re style. Roman, Patton, and Logan were all telling me about you just before you showed up. You exceeded all the standards they set. You fascinate me. Should I go on?” That smug smirk was back and Virgil wanted to slide over and force it away. In a rare show of bravery, he did. Everything else was forgotten about right then. Virgil’s own nervousness, his self-deprecation, his fear of Remy fading. All of that was abandoned in favor of wiping that irresistible smirk off Remy’s features.

The next few months were some of the best of Virgil’s existence. He had decided to fuck it, he was already in too deep to get out, might as well dive into this relationship and enjoy it while it lasted. And, to his surprise, Thomas actually made a few more shorts with the sleep character. Not quite enough for him to physically manifest like some of the others, as well as Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman could. But it was enough to keep him hanging around, so Virgil was content. The other had easily accepted their relationship. It wasn’t that strange. Roman had a long-standing relationship with the Narrator and Patton had his eye on a certain Dr. Picani, though they weren’t official yet. Logan claimed to like no one, but that might have been because of the not so pleasant ending to the small fling he’d had with Motivation and Inspiration while they were around. Those two… they were something else. Not the kind of people you really wanted to be in a relationship with. All in all, things were good for Virgil. Until they weren’t.

Thomas had been super busy the last couple of months. Several big projects had been coming together all at once and Thomas was running from one to the next with barely a breath in between to take care of himself. Shorts had all but stopped since there was no time to sit and plan any out. The ones that were made were usually spur of the moment, random bouts of inspiration with a one-off character. In the mean-time, Remy had grown distant. Before, they had grown so close, even saying I love you to each other, which was a big thing to Virgil. But suddenly, Remy just wasn’t there when he woke up. At first, Virgil had panicked, but he quickly pushed it away and regained control. First, he looked all through his own room. Not finding his partner there, Virgil went out into the commons. After all, Remy did have a life outside of Virgil. It’s not like they were together 24/7. More like, 21/6, if you counted sleeping.

Virgil went downstairs and Remy was there, talking with Roman. Virgil smiled, all traces of panic evaporating. He snuck up on Remy, who had his back to the stairs, and wrapped his arms around him. “Good Morning.” Remy froze and a spike a fear pushed through Virgil’s heart. Had he done something wrong? Before he could dwell on that too long, Remy thawed in his arms, twisting around to meet Virgil’s gaze.

“Good Morning, Honey. Sleep well?” Virgil eyed his boyfriend critically. Something was off about him.

“Yeah. You?”

“Gurl, I am Sleep.” It finally struck Virgil what was off. Remy’s make-up, specifically his foundation, was uneven.

“Rem, are you okay?” Remy blinked at him a couple times. Roman spoke up from the sofa.

“He’s-” Remy cut him off before he got any further in whatever he was going to say.

“I’m fine. Maybe didn’t sleep so well last night. But I’m fine. It happens, y’know.” Virgil did know. Rather well actually. Bouts of insomnia were not uncommon for the personification of anxiety.

“Virgil, breakfast!” Patton called from the kitchen. Virgil looked to the breakfast bar were fresh pancakes and a steaming mug were waiting. Virgil looked at Remy, who smiled at him.

“Already ate. Your turn.” Virgil nodded and gave Remy a quick peck on the check before claiming his meal. He should have noticed then how cold Remy’s check was. And if he didn’t notice anything then, he really should have when Remy added gloves and eventually switched his jacket for Virgil’s old hoodie and certainly as he grew more and more distant. Virgil started seeing less and less of his boyfriend, only really spending time together while they slept. It hurt. But Virgil didn’t want to push Remy. Besides, he was also awful busy what with the chaos that was Thomas’s life at that time. Being the Anxiety of a big time You-Tuber was stressful. But Virgil really wished he had noticed before it was too late. He wished he hadn’t had to wake up one morning, his boyfriend stone cold in his arms, barely breathing and impossible to wake. Virgil found a note on his dresser.

I’m Fading Virge. Not much longer now, I can feel it. I really should have stopped flirting when you asked me to. Shouldn’t have started in the first place really. I was selfish. I know it’s kind of written into my character. But you were written to be a villain. If you could defy it, I should have too. But I didn’t. I’m sorry. I love you. ~Remy. P.S. Don’t forget to go eat some breakfast.

It hurt. Oh, how it hurt. Virgil cried. Loudly. Loud enough that someone came in. Virgil didn’t know who. He couldn’t focus enough to tell. Whoever they were, they tried to take him away from Remy. Virgil fought. But he wasn’t strong enough. Next thing he knew, Virgil was in the commons, on the couch, his family around him. Virgil cried. Virgil begged Roman to give Thomas a shorts idea with Remy.

“I’m sorry Virgil. I tried. He keeps dismissing me. He’s busy right now. Everything we’ve worked so hard for… he doesn’t have the time to spare.” Virgil cried. He tried manifesting to Thomas and asking him directly to make a short. Something. Anything. Just play the Sleep character. Thomas dismissed him.

“I can’t right now, Virge. It’s almost time.” Virgil went back to the mindscape. Virgil cried. Patton tried to soothe him. Logan tried to distract him. Eventually, it worked. Virgil stopped crying. But there was a hollow ache in his chest that Virgil didn’t know how to deal with. Patton was the heart. But Patton might not know either. Thomas had never lost a partner like this. None of them had. No one really knew how to help and console Virgil. Virgil didn’t know either.

Fading was not a quick and clean affair. First, the character started going cold, then transparent. After a while, they starting losing energy, becoming lethargic. Eventually, they’d go to sleep and not wake up. After that, they’d keep fading until soon, all that was left was an outline, an echo, a motionless ghost. It was some time before Virgil could go back to his room. When he did, he couldn’t bear to stay in the bedroom. He slept on the couch. It still hurt, but less. Thomas moved on from his busy spell. Things got back to normal. Eventually, Virgil learned to live, even with the hollow ache he felt would never go away.

They all found ways to give closure. Roman summoned a gravestone in the yard outside the common house. Logan taught Virgil a lot about grief and getting over the loss of a loved one. Patton gave warm hugs and cookies and listened to Virgil talk and reminisce. It helped. Mostly. Eventually, Virgil gave Thomas the okay to make another sleep short. Thomas had wanted to do so as soon as he could, but Virgil had refused then. While Thomas made the short, Virgil hung in the background, just outside the camera’s sight. It hurt, watching Thomas dress up and portray him. But, it was important too. Virgil was glad it happened. It hurt less. Especially when he went back to his room and faced the familiar shape lying on his bed.

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Virgil Sanders #Remy Sanders #Sleep Sanders #Roman Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #My Writing

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allenmendezsr · 4 years

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The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

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The Anti-anxiety Recipe Plan

Buy Now

ATTENTION: For anyone that struggles with high-stress levels, depression, insomnia, or a troubled state of mind, you can discover…

Dear Friend,

It’s time to put yourself back in the driver’s seat of your life.

Poor mental health is a serious subject, and it should never be taken lightly.

Over the next few minutes, I’m going to share with you how you can attack one of the major contributors of anxiety.

Your stress, worry, and fears should never dictate how you should live your life ever again…

And you can conquer these feelings, WITHOUT taking any medication to “temporarily” ease your mind.

First, you need to understand that the key to feeling calm and collected and not “lost in your head” is to master what some doctors call “your second brain.”

I know it sounds crazy, but let me explain.

Introducing…

Listen: there is no one simple cure for anxiety.

Since there are a lot of different variables that lead to it, it takes more than one change to get rid of anxiety for good.

You see, most people don’t “get” how your diet plays a MAJOR role with how the rest of your body, and more importantly, your mind functions.

Enter The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan.

If you’re someone who suffers from anxiety, this recipe book will help you take an entirely natural approach to improve your mind and well-being.

You’ve heard this saying before—

“You are what you eat.”

And according to research from John Hopkins Medical School, whenever you’re nervous or anxious, you’re likely getting signals from an unexpected source—your gut.

AKA your “second brain.”

It’s the reason why you’ll feel your stomach “act up” right before an important event, like a job interview or even a hot date.

Studies like this are revolutionizing the way people look at digestion, mood, your health, and yes, the way you think.

The recipes inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan remove ingredients that inflame your gut, leave you in a sluggish mental state, or trigger anxiety.

That’s why the launch for this book is taking the health and wellness community by storm…

Instead of eating recipes full of refined and unnatural foods, The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan uses ingredients like antioxidants, healthy fats, and healing herbs.

And they’re not just good for you. Inside, you’ll find 50+ anxiety-relieving recipes so mouth-watering, they’ll blow your favorite stuffed crust pizza out of the water.

Dishes like Korean Style Steak and Kimchi Wraps…Sweet Potato Frittatas…Turmeric Tahini Buddha Bowls…Crispy Baked Chicken Cutlets…and Lemon Poppylicious Energy Balls

(And they blast anxiety away with each bite)

These “Holistic Mind Soothing Ingredients” are time-tested, proven, all-natural ingredients that BANISH anxiety and SOOTHE your mind.

Not only that, but you can use them to regain your health, energy, and vitality.

How?

Each recipe leverages the power of the Paleo Diet.

Because sure, Paleo is still making waves everywhere.

It’s recently been featured on popular shows like Rachael Ray and Dr. Oz, and it’s backed by leading Doctors and Nutritionists. It’s even used by celebrities like Megan Fox, Jessica Biel, and Anne Hathaway!

And for good reason:

The Paleo diet works by eating whole foods that have kept humans healthy for centuries.

The core principles are simple:

No processed foods

No dairy

No refined sugars

Basically, if your “stone age ancestors” didn’t eat it, neither should you.

Every meal in this diet usually has 2/3 vegetables and 1/3 of lean protein, fruits, and healthy fat.

However, it’s not all fun and games…

Because before today, going Paleo meant giving up ALL gluten, dairy, processed sugar, and artificial ingredients.

HOWEVER…

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is changing all of that…

And lets us indulge in appetizing, paleo-friendly versions of everything we’re told to “give up” on the paleo diet.

Imagine!

Avo Choco Mousse…Maple Macaroons…Cherry Chocolate Chip Smoothies…Cinnamon Apples…

Wait until you see the gorgeous photos below.

But before we get there, allow me to introduce myself:

Hi, my name is Danny Jeffers.

I’m a health and wellness enthusiast and for years I’ve struggled with life-crippling anxiety. That’s why for the past six months, I’ve been obsessed with one single goal…

Today, I’m proud to say I’ve finally cracked the “Anxiety-Code”. I’ve discovered 50+ Anti-Anxiety recipes that are downright to-die-for…

And I want to share them with you too.

So you can nourish both your mind and body, live a life full of energy, and escape your negative thoughts…

WITHOUT using medication.

WITHOUT giving up your favorite guilty pleasures.

And WITHOUT eating the same, bland foods every day.

What’s more: these recipes will work for you even if you’ve tried other diets…

You see, you don’t have to be a whiz in the kitchen, and you don’t need to give up hours of your time to figure out each recipe.

The holistic, mind-soothing ingredients in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan are here to calm you down, not cause any more stress.

It’s difficult to share but I think it’s important so here we go…

I didn’t know I was going to end up in the ER that day.

It was a regular Thursday morning. And as I got out of bed, I whipped up what I thought at the time, was a “healthy” breakfast.

If you saw me in public you would think nothing was wrong with me.

I exercised every day, had a good job, a girlfriend, and had a ton of friends.

Yet despite looking like everything was “right” in my life, I was exhausted and beat myself up daily with self-criticism.

I hated my life for no good reason at all…

My mind was foggy. My head was constantly dizzy.

I just felt so…off.

Sound familiar?

At the same time, I felt like I had to always be “on edge.”

I overthought EVERYTHING.

Sometimes it felt like I would just “forget” how to talk to people too.

“Should I talk now?”

“Am I saying the right thing?”

“How do I know everything is going to be okay?”

But it gets worse.

These “symptoms” only scratch the surface.

Because the second noon hit that day, it was like someone hijacked my mind.

I was in the middle of a small meeting for my work, right in the heart of downtown Santa Monica, California.

Something in my head screamed at me to leave NOW.

I swear, it was like my mind was warning me that I was being chased down by a tiger.

My breathing grew heavy, so I stood up and rushed outside of the building to get some fresh air.

But still, I could sense my anxiety clawing right through my skin…

I looked around me.

It really was a beautiful day in Santa Monica, the sun was shining, the palm trees swaying…

But underneath it all, I felt broken.

I thought to myself, “did somebody drug me?”

Nothing made sense.

After pacing around the streets like a madman, I used my shaky hands to call up an Uber so I could retreat to my home.

I just knew I couldn’t stay here.

Then, after waiting for what felt like HOURS I finally got into my Uber and continued to sweat bullets.

Inside the car, I desperately scrambled to tell my driver that I NEEDED to go to the ER NOW.

He rushed me over.

And as you can probably guess, they couldn’t tell me a straight answer for what was wrong with me.

A kind nurse told me it might’ve been just vertigo and it would eventually “go away.”

The rest of the staff said to “sleep it off…”

Seriously?

That was the best answer I could get?

I must’ve been going insane. I wanted to give up.

Was this just a one-time thing?

But for the next few months, my anxiety would rear its ugly head again…

My negative self-talk would creep in at random parts of the day.

And my brain would fire off alarm bells during normal moments…

Like right before an important presentation I had to give at work…

While talking to a coworker…

Sitting in a crowded room with strangers…or friends…

And even while getting a haircut…!

This intense anxiety dripped into other parts of my life too…

Eventually, I couldn’t focus at work anymore.

And my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend strained.

I felt suffocated from it all.

But here’s the thing.

I never told anyone I suffered from anxiety.

That’s because I didn’t want to deal with the “stigma” or feel embarrassed over it.

Still, I couldn’t stand feeling this way anymore.

I started experimenting with antidepressants.

Whenever doctors would prescribe me medicine or a new over the counter pill, I would ask them if I could have three more…

I just wanted to do whatever it took to finally BANISH my anxiety for good.

You name it, I’ve tried it.

Yet nothing really worked.

Sometimes they would only make me feel a little better…

But I still felt some symptoms.

The rush of uncertainty….

The heightened senses…

Me questioning every tiny thing…

And that’s IF I didn’t feel like a zombie.

I couldn’t go on like this.

So I started looking for a holistic approach.

No, not meditation.

It’s already hard enough to meditate WITHOUT anxiety, how in the world would I be able to “clear my mind” with it?

I thought I could find something else.

The more I dove into this problem, the more I learned.

And then I discovered that…

Remember what I mentioned earlier.

Some doctors call your gut “the second brain.”

Sounds strange but it’s true.

Your gut and mind are connected.

Together, they help determine your overall health, so when your gut health is out of balance, your body and mind will know it too!

Like I said, I discovered this after reviewing studies from John Hopkins Medical School, Harvard, The National Center for Biotechnology, and Psychology Today.

For example, you probably already knew that most fried foods like french fries, chicken, and onion rings are terrible for your health.

They’re cooked in hydrogenated oil so they’re harder to digest.

These foods will sap your energy levels, even HOURS after you eat them!

Yet it may surprise you to know that some “everyday” foods you might think are “healthy” for you, throw your entire nervous system out of whack too.

Sometimes, their negative effect is so powerful, you can overstimulate your nervous system to the point that it feels like you’re reliving a stressful life event or bad memory.

And I’m not just talking about coffee, or anything with caffeine either.

Too much dairy and something as simple as your favorite fruit juice can also give you fatigue and make it difficult to concentrate.

I took a good, hard look at my diet and what I’ve been feeding “my second brain” for years…

Here I was lost in my daily dose of mental hell, and the reason was right in front of me this entire time…

So now you know that your gut has a deeper connection to the rest of your body, and especially your anxiety…

What do you do?

You can’t “numb” your senses with medication, because they only help “manage” your anxiety for the short term.

And you can’t just “skip” certain meals, because the drop in your body’s sugar levels can lead to a spike in anxiety too!

When one of my friends introduced me to an all-natural, real food, paleo diet… my state of mind finally began to return to normal.

Almost instantly, my brain fog, dizziness, and near fight-or-flight symptoms vanished.

My anxiety wasn’t gnawing at my conscious 24/7.

And for the first time in what must’ve been YEARS, I was overflowing with real, natural joy.

But like I said before, the only drawback?

Paleo makes you cut grains, high-fat meats, sugar, salty foods…

The list goes on…

Basically this means I couldn’t keep eating anything tasty.

My pizza, doughnuts, and everything in between.

As a result, my cravings went bonkers!

Perhaps you can relate:

I wanted to chow down on cheesecake after dinner…

I wanted to devour a frozen pizza with my friends and watch Game of Thrones with a cold one in my hand…

And there’s nothing else out there that hits the spot like my mom’s infamous spaghetti and meatballs.

But now I couldn’t indulge in any of those guilty pleasures…

So I searched far and wide, looking for a chef who understood the deep relationship food has with your mind…

Not only that, but I was also looking for someone who knew how to whip-up delicious, mouth-watering meals in a snap.

And that’s when I met…

Let me introduce, Melissa.

Melissa is a certified nutritional chef and graduate from The Academy of Culinary Nutrition.

She has a knack for re-creating “unhealthy dishes” and turning them into a healthy meal packed with flavor.

You’ve probably seen some of her recipes cooked on Dr. Oz, and featured on The Kitchen Blog for Fisher, Paykel Appliances, and Readers Digest.

Melissa gets it.

Not only is she extremely passionate about cooking, but she loves sharing her knowledge of all things health.

I got the chance to meet her in New York City after going to one of her health and wellness workshops.

At the event, she talked about her personalized nutrition programs, and she gave a demonstration of one of her original recipes.

But what really struck a chord with me was when she talked about the “gut-brain connection” I already did a ton of research on.

When the event ended, I went up to her and shared with her what I’ve learned about this subject too.

She was open with me and she shared her struggles with chronic stress, food sensitivities, fatigue, and anxiety.

At first she thought there was nothing seriously wrong with her…maybe you’re like her.

You see, she worked long hours and was a “road warrior” that was constantly on the go.

Whenever she would visit a traditional doctor to tackle this problem, they would just try to give her pills…

But there was no way she would go through that downward spiral.

Instead, she took another close look at her recipes.

She figured out how she could adjust them so that they would not only help her with food allergies, but also with her stress and anxiety too!

And of course, as a top chef, she knew she had made sure they were delicious.

The result?

The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, her new recipe book filled with 50+ mouth-watering anxiety relieving recipes that lets you indulge while keeping your mind clear and your heart happy.

While I was with her in person, she shared with me a couple of the dishes she put together in her book.

I sampled them, and had to double check with her to ask her again what the ingredients were…

I told her right then that she had to share the recipes in this book with more people.

Listen: no one wants to force bland, lifeless food down their throat.

That’s why Inside The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan, you can be rest assured, every recipe is bursting with flavor.

Each bite of the chocolate chip muffins or cranberry orange bread is warm and scrumptious.

The mouth-watering sweet potato frittata is savory.

And the chicken cutlets and broiled salmon are rich and filling.

The cherry on top is that if you’re looking to shed an extra few pounds and feel more energized than ever, they can be made PALEO…

What’s cool is most of these can be made within minutes… and without any expensive equipment.

Meaning using exactly what you have laying around your kitchen right now, you can dig in immediately after work… guilt free!

You can forget having to go to different grocery stores every week…

Each ingredient can be found at your local grocery chain. So these recipes aren’t just delicious and good for you, they’re convenient too!

Goodbye grueling grocery store visits… hello easy mood and easy food.

Remember: each recipe is natural and nourishes your “second brain.” This means you won’t have to deal with any weird chemicals.

For each page, there’s a nutritional breakdown and explanation for how each ingredient soothes your mind and body.

So the bottom line is this: there’s something for everyone!

And just to reiterate one more time…

Look: nobody likes complicated recipes, especially if you’re someone suffering from anxiety and high-stress levels.

That’s why each recipe in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan is made simple!

Most can be prepared in 15-30 minutes…

And some, even quicker!

Don’t worry, you don’t have to be Gordon Ramsay to whip these up.

Even if you struggle to prepare the most basic recipes, you’ll still be able to make these tasty, mind-soothing meals, snacks, and desserts in The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan with no problem.

You might also be concerned about the ingredients…

And specifically, where you can get them…

Now, I’ll be straight with you:

If this is your first cookbook, then sure, some of the ingredients will be new.

But most — if not all — are laying around your kitchen already.

Things like cinnamon, baking soda, lemon juice…

And any ingredients you need to get can be found in your closest “normal” grocery store or found online (from the comfort of your own home) on Amazon.

Plus each recipe includes a breakdown of how fast it takes to make each meal. You’ll also have an inside look behind HOW each ingredient nourishes both your mind and body.

I wanted to share with you what’s included in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan because originally, the price for this hovered over $65.

However, Melissa and her the publisher’s have agreed to give this away for NOWHERE near that amount!

All in all, you’re getting:

And I’m even going to make sure that you don’t risk a penny when you pick up a copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan today.

That’s because you’re backed by this…

I want to share this recipe book with you, at no risk.

All the pressure is on me.

Why am I doing this?

Because I’ve been there.

I know what it feels like to try and make a difference in your health and well-being.

And I know how it is to try and make something healthy and delicious at the end of every anxiety-ridden day.

I get how complicated things can get in the kitchen.

So regardless if this is your first time on the paleo diet, or your first time cooking real, natural food that’s good for your health and well-being.

I want you to experience the life-changing benefits I went through with these holistic, mind-soothing ingredients.

And The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan does just that.

You’re at a crossroads now.

You can do what I did and spend the next few months or even YEARS testing out every antidepressant you can imagine trying to get rid of your anxiety alone…

Spending thousands of dollars on doctors visits, therapy sessions, and more…

Only to still “get by” trapped inside your mental prison…

Or… you can skip all of that insanity, ditch the pills, and save a ton of money by investing in your health today.

And remember, Melissa’s publishers are giving away this $65+ value recipe plan… All for the price of a medium size pizza.

It’s an investment in your happiness … which I’m sure is worth a lot more to you than the tiny cost of this recipe book.

Don’t you agree?

And remember, you risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying.

Let’s do this — together — click the button below and claim your copy of The Anti-Anxiety Recipe Plan right now:

Q: How will these recipes get rid of my anxiety?

Your mind and body are connected. In fact, some doctors call your gut the “second brain.” That’s why whenever you feel nervous, your stomach may growl or you’ll feel a little queasy.

So if you’re feeding your body the wrong foods, you’ll notice you feel more anxious, sluggish, and just “not right.”

The delicious meals inside The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan are backed by holistic mind-soothing ingredients you can use to nourish your “second brain.”

Q: Can I find all the ingredients in a normal grocery store?

Yes, almost all of the ingredients in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan can be found in regular grocery stores (i.e. Target, Kroger, Wal-Mart, Publix, etc…) They’re also all on Amazon if you want to shop from the comfort of your own home, and can definitely be found in health food stores like Whole Foods.

Q: Are all meals, including the desserts, paleo-approved?

Yes, all of the breakfast, entrées, sides, salads, soups, and desserts are paleo-approved.

Q: How hard is it to prepare each meal following this book?

A majority of the meals and desserts can be put together in 15 minutes or less (not including cook/chill time) – the recipes are meant to be easy to follow so you can whip up these tasty dishes and treats for yourself and your loved ones with minimal effort.

Q: What allergens are in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan?

Some of the potential allergens you may want to be aware of include coconut (coconut flour, coconut oil, coconut milk/cream, and coconut butter), nuts (like almonds, cashews, macadamia nuts, and pecans), and eggs. Options for using butter or ghee in some recipes can easily be replaced with coconut oil to avoid all dairy.

Q: Is The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan really backed by a 100% money-back-guarantee?

Yes. You risk nothing. You have a full 60 days to try out these recipes in The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan yourself.

If you’re not jumping with joy over your improved mood, clearer mind, and if you’re not excited about how mouth-watering these recipes are…

You don’t pay a dime. The recipe book will still be yours to keep, as a “thank you” for trying.

Q: I still don’t believe these recipes can end my intense anxiety. How is this different and what really makes this work?

Intense anxiety or depression is nothing to take lightly. I know, because I struggled with both for not months, but years.

The Anti Anxiety Recipe Plan is different because it takes a natural, holistic approach to restore balance back to your mind, health, and well-being.

Sure, sometimes the strongest medical pills out there can “temporarily” relieve your suffering…but why not attack a major source for your anxiety and nourish your mind with the right nutrients instead?

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lastremainingalpha · 7 years

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Memories

Naissance

He doesn’t remember being ‘asleep’. Or opening his eyes. He’s lying on a table, staring at the ceiling. Sitting up and looking around, he notices a glass mirror with people behind it (he can see moving shadows silhouetted dimly in the reflection). He sees his own face.

Suddenly, a voice projects through a speaker, “Can you understand me? Can you speak?”

“Yes.”

“Who is your master?”

“Toue.” The answer comes to him without hesitation. And somehow he can picture the face affiliated with the name already.

After this reply, several figures enter through a door and introduce themselves directly--scientists working for Toue. They introduce him, too--his name is Alpha; he’s an android created to serve Toue. Alpha knew that second part already. They ask him if he has any questions. It’s not that he doesn’t--more that he doesn’t know enough of anything to ask about it. He either knows something, or he doesn’t. He’s busy processing, feverishly, to add more to the list of the former, and the question asked of him just distracts him.

“No.”

They say that’s ‘normal’.

_____

Fraternity

The questions come soon enough, as do the many observations. Many things were easy to grasp, but one hurdle, he found, was predicting humans. They each responded differently to the same things, and sometimes even differently than a previous response.

Soon, they introduce him to the other like him, and he can tell the difference. It isn’t that the other--Alpha 2--has the same response every time, or even the same responses as Alpha, but Alpha finds him easier to understand, to read. Coming face-to-face with the other, he blinks, in awe, at the likeness to himself. ...Though not completely the same. Somehow he can tell the difference. He tentatively lifts his right hand to touch, out of curiosity...and finds Alpha 2 doing the same. He feels an emotion, then. Excitement, happiness. A small smile forms on his face.

“How many other brothers do I have?”

Many, they say, but none the same model as him, as Alpha 2. They are special.

_____

Pride

They spend the next six months in various phases and forms of testing--strength, dexterity, movement, reflexes, senses, speech, singing, mental processing, logic, loyalty, maximum capacities. Alpha finds he doesn’t mind it. Much of the time, he is allowed to participate together with Alpha 2. He enjoys every time they manage to impress their researchers, feels pride in showing off his abilities, knowing they are the most advanced of their kind. The more evaluations he passes, the more privileges he is awarded, and soon he is allowed to explore portions of the Tower--Oval Tower.

_____

Devotion

On their six-month anniversary of activation, they graduate testing, are officially marked as successes. On that day, they finally meet their master. Toue. Alpha finds he cannot accurately describe the joy, the sense of achievement, the...reverence, in finally facing the One he is meant to serve, and momentarily, he worries if he has broken now of all the inopportune times.

But Toue speaks to him, calls them both by name, smiles in satisfaction, tells them they are his precious children, that he expects the very best of their service.

“Yes. Master,” he manages breathlessly.

_____

Purpose

Soon, they are given masks to disguise their matching faces and tasked with patrolling the city of Platinum Jail. Directed to keep interactions with humans at a minimum until they become more accustomed to blending in, they interfere with individuals only if they are seen acting out or disrupting Platinum Jail’s manufactured peace.

...Dying a human’s brain...is thrilling, Alpha finds. Singing in such a perfect form as to bend others to his will, watching their faces slowly go blank... With him and Alpha 2 at his hand, Toue would rule the world.

_____

Jealousy

Why was Sei so important anyway? He was weak, dying even. Not even as strong as a normal human, let alone Alpha. He couldn’t even leave the tower. Alpha could do the same thing as him. Why did he get treated as so special, when all he was destined for was to be used up and thrown away?

_____

Passion

Green Playground was their favorite district. Sometimes, he and Alpha 2 would sneak into the arcades and monopolize the dance stations--that was their top pick, at least. Later, they stole Sei’s gaming console and eventually amassed a collection of beloved titles, including karaoke, as they were forbidden to sing casually in public. That way, they could play as themselves without concern for garnering too much attention. They often forwent available times for sleep mode in order play and laugh together. ...Sometimes they got into mischief. Usually they got away with it.

_____

Wonderment

Toue was taking them with him and his entourage on a visit to the mainland. They had to be quiet, they had to keep their masks on once they arrived. But they were allowed to travel; they could fly! Alpha was ecstatic. And the ride did not disappoint him. The roar of the engines, the thrill of power, g-forces, as the plane took off. The bright, light of the sun, illuminating all of existence, made everything seem so new and foreign. Then seeing the earth from thousands of feet above, much higher, even, than the top of Oval Tower, as he pressed his face to the window. He saw beaches, ocean, nothing but water for miles and miles. He wished he could ride on the wing, feel the wind in his hair, though he knew that was impossible. He spent most of that journey in quiet amazement of all the new experiences introduced to him.

_____

Apprehension

They were tasked with helping dye the newest members of Morphine, allegedly previously one of the largest Ribsteez gangs in Midorijima. They toppled each mind easily...except for one. Their strong-willed leader was more resistant than most, refusing to fall entirely into line as a blank puppet. Alpha felt a twinge of frustration, faint questions of inadequacy, a subtle anxiety over the lack of control. They were dismissed from the project before getting another chance at the redhead. The Alphas immediately retreated to Toue to ask for an upgrade.

_____

Confrontation

They happened upon another like them. Not them, but an older model, an android, an R-2E type. He dressed oddly, stunk of humans, spoke of another master. A defective. He had to be disposed of. But then there was a witness--apparently the fake master himself. When Alpha tried to dye him into forgetting, the one who called himself Clear...went against his keylock to attack Alpha. He broke himself. The Alphas left him to break down on his own in favor of reporting to Toue.

They met again at the top of Oval Tower. ‘Clear’ spoke nonsensical things about becoming human, about learning from his fake master. Defied his true master to his face. Then Toue gave the order to do away with him. Alpha may have exaggerated when he said he didn’t want to do it, that it was just orders. Justice was always sweet.

Shock stabbed at his system before Clear’s knife penetrated his own. What he was doing was...unthinkable. Beyond insane. This level of malfunction was dangerous...scary... But it didn’t deter Alpha from his goal. Even if the lesser android was able to fight back, he was running out of time and less advanced besides. Alpha put him back in his place and approached for the final blow. But then--what was-- Pain... Confusion... Darkness.

_____

Pain

Alpha regained awareness to find himself...restrained. What time was it? What day? Was he being punished? Unfamiliar voices tried to tell him the world had changed since he was last awake. That Oval Tower had collapsed, that Toue was gone... That he was under investigation for participating in crimes against humanity. That there was no chance of him escaping, and there would be nowhere for him to go if he did. If he cooperated, he would be treated fairly.

He did not cooperate. Who were these people to tell him what to do? He would not answer their questions. He would never give up his secrets. They tried harder. Tubes and wires injected sharply under his skin, into his neural network, harsh and crude compared to Oval Tower’s custom-designed equipment.

Alpha’s brain was too advanced for forced memory extraction. The most they might able to do skillfully was run a diagnostic on his system...but they tried for so much more. They sought answers, but all they could do was break. Hurt. Senses jolted, screamed in chaos and agony, perceptions warped until he wasn’t sure what was real. Wasn’t sure if he could ever think properly again. Sometimes he shut down. But eventually, he would jolt awake again, panic hitting his system to see himself in the same hell he dissociated from. His key lock would continue to repair his body.

_____

Loss

Alpha couldn’t tell how long it had been. When they next switch back to verbal tactics, they provided him with a new set of news. Toue had been found dead. Suicide by gunshot wound to the head.

They. Were. Lying. Toue would never. Never. There was no way he was gone. No way he would do that. They were lying to try to get him to bow to their will. Alpha denied their claims vehemently. They had proof, they told him.

They showed him. The photographic sight of Toue--his Master--his body--his corpse--dead. Dead. Very dead.

Alpha was frozen. His brain was on fire, the image burning like acid into his memory, just behind his eyes. He couldn’t move. Or breathe. Or function. They took the picture away, but it was still there. He was limp in his seated prison. He couldn’t move, but he was shaking. His constricted respiratory system allowed him a sharp gasp. And then another, rattling his chest and choking off with a pitiful sound. He was sobbing. The tears blurring his vision of the ceiling and rolling into his hairline did nothing to obscure the seared image in his head.

...Too much... It was too much. It was too much...

_____

Desperation

“Where is my brother?” he whispered. “Where is Alpha 2?” The questions must have been familiar to Them by now. It was all he would ever say anymore. He wanted... He needed Alpha 2. He was tired... He wanted it to stop. Wanted it all to stop. Wanted to see Alpha 2, to know not everything was as not-the-same...as broken, as devastated, as it seemed. Wanted to know how he was doing. What he was feeling and experiencing. Wanted to share... Understand... Wanted to hear truth and the revelation of lies.

“Where is my brother?”

#A little different because technically he knew Clear had bodysnatched Alpha 2 before he learned of Toue #angst #torture #suicide #memories #depression #grief #headcanons #IC

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allenmendezsr · 4 years

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