Prompt Post: ROUND SEVEN
ROUND SEVEN IS CLOSED
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<< ROUND SIX | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND EIGHT >>
Rules post.
Posting Guidelines.
Flat view.
Updates Post (WIPs only)
Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
There is a delay on comments appearing when there is a URL in the message body. This is due to an LJ anti-spam ( Read more... )
And there - he choked back a moan - there was his mate, sitting cross-legged in the mouth of the den, holding out arms to him. He fell into the other man’s embrace, clutching him to his chest, burying his mouth into the curve of his neck, breathing in the living scent of him.
“It’s alright,” his mate soothed, running hands through matted hair and hanging from the circle of his arms. “It’s alright. They gave you back.”
Words were cumbersome and tainted, the dominion of the White-Coats. He didn’t want words, he wanted proper language, he wanted thoughts, and he pressed this to the forefront of his mind until his mate responded: Are you injured? Have you eaten? There’s blood on you…
He thought back at his mate, I’m perfectly well. It’s all scratches and grazes, I did it to myself. I thought you were dead. I’m so glad, so incredibly glad.
He tried to pull his mate upright, but found the man a heavy weight in his arms. He knew at once that something was more than wrong and he drew his head back, looking and asking for explanation.
I can’t stand, his mate gazed at him, hands wrapped around either side of his friend’s head. My back was broken. It won’t heal.
He caught the wisp of a hush concealed in his mate’s thoughts, and gave a guttural cry. My fault!
No, no, not you-
He could hear the truth in his mate’s hurried withdrawal from his mind, and see it in his own memories - the terrible, liquid cracking when he’d pulled his mate from the wreckage, the scream of pain, the way his mate’s body had been twisted - but he pushed the memory aside.
“My friend,” his mate was still grasping the other man’s head, keeping him eye-to-eye. “We need to talk.”
He shook his head. “I don’t like talking. Won’t,” he said, though the words sounded embarrassingly juvenile and malformed even in his own ears.
“Yes, you will,” his mate said. “Because you must. I will force you if I have to. Because we’re not going to stay here any longer. We’re going to leave, all of us. But for that to happen I need you to learn to talk.”
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This is GUT WRENCHING. And just fucking incredible. Wow.
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Author!anon here, and I gotta say you're just making me even more tempted to write again in this verse. :D I'm just loving how this all is unfolding.
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FUCK YOU, HANK! NO, FUCK YOU! And let me tell you why.
They have the oppurtunity to be somewhat treated like humans, and you won't let them because of your bullshit research?! YOU FRIGGIN CUNT.
what the fuck is WROOOOOONG with you bitches in this fucking lab?1 really, like are you serious right now. WHO TOLD YOU IT WAS OK TO TREAT PEOPLE LIKE THIS? And Hank, you're the worst of all. I thought you wanted to help them, but you're the biggest piece of shit, you fucker.
I hate you. I hate this lab. I hate these fucking scientists. I hate that rapist scientist. And I sincerley hope Charles and Erik MURDER EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE OF YOU.
*sniffles*
I--I'm sorry Author. I--I didn't mean to go off the handle like that. It's just--this story is so well-written that I just dived right into it.
*sniffles*
BUT MY ANGST TEARS CANNOT BE CONTAINED.
please update soon. But my heart--my emotions....they BURN. *goes to sob uncontrollably in corner*
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