#but yeah best believe this image was in jacob's head at the thought of his poor little sister almost getting hurt or worse by R ;~; | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hecatemoon87 · 1 year

Text

Warnings ⚠️ smut NO minors

Master list for full story

Part IV

Bob rested on his knees in front of a wooden cross with the image of Jesus nailed to it. He clasped his hands tightly, the rosary hanging out through laced fingers. With eyes closed, he whispered the hail mary almost frantically.

He had woken up from a dream, ejaculating. He had dreamed that he was between Jocelyn's legs, thrusting blissfully. It was so realistic, her moans, her scent, the touch of her skin, the tightness of her womanhood. It has been intoxicating that the end result was ruining his shorts.

He had hopped in the shower, cleaned himself off and went directly to the chapel that was located on the first level of the dormitory. It was around four a.m. and the other junior priests would be waking in another hour.

Bob was deep in prayer when the chapel light had flicked on. Bob blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the door. There stood Father Jacob, an older priest who in part looked slightly similar to Gandalf.

"Oh, I didn't see you there, Bob. What are you doing praying in the dark so early this morning?"

"I couldn't sleep," Bob said.

Father Jacob nodded and said, "Looks like you haven't slept in a few days my son, does something trouble you?"

Bob wasn't certain whether to confide in Father Jacob. He was worried the old priest would just be disappointed in him.

"Something does, but I don't know how to address it," Bob said, truthfully.

"I see, is it something you feel comfortable addressing with me?"

"Father...what happens when a priest no longer wishes to be a priest? Does that make him...unworthy?"

Father Jacob frowned and took a seat in a pew nearest to Bob.

"Well, that's a matter between him and God, I suppose. What would be the priest's reason from living the priesthood?" Jacob asked.

"Love," Bob replied.

"Love? Or Lust?"

"Love, well mostly love," Bob said, sighing. "Look, by now, you know it's me. This woman, I grew up with her. I foolishly believed she'd stay here in Brooklyn and we'd get married. But she didn't have supportive parents, and her dad...was abusive. So, first chance she got, she headed to the West Coast once she got a scholarship," Bob said.

"And you thought the love of your life was out of the picture. So you joined the cloth?"

"It was either that or become a bar tender for my cousin Marv. But there was also a part of me that wanted to dedicate my life to God," Bob said.

"You know, despite how God acted in the Old Testament, he saw the error in his way and gave us Christ, to allow for understanding and forgiveness. If you are unhappy, Bob, I truly believe God does not wish that upon you. Life is a gift, and you cannot spend the rest of your days in sorrow. God wants us to be joyful. Perhaps, it is time you consider what's really best for you?"

Bob felt a great sense of relief wash over him.

"Thank you, Father Jacob, I think I know what I need to do," Bob said.

A few hours later, Bob was on Jocelyn's door step. He tried calling her, but she hadn't answered yet. So he arrived and started knocking on her door until she opened it.

"Jesus, Bob. It's eight-thirty in the morning," Jocelyn said, sleepily as she opened the door.

"Yeah, that's right. It is eight-thirty in the morning, why are you still sleeping?" he said, stepping inside.

"I don't go to bed until three or four a.m. most days, that's why," Jocelyn pouted as she walked into her kitchen and fumbled around to make a pot of coffee.

Bob sat down at her kitchen table and waited for her to drag herself and two cups of steaming hot coffee to the table. He took his and just held it and stared at her. She took a sip of coffee and her droopy eyes caught him staring.

"What?" she asked.

"You just look so beautiful," he said, smiling.

"Shut up. You're not supposed to talk like that," she said, rolling her eyes and taking another sip of coffee.

"You're right, but in a few weeks I can," he said, reaching out and touching her hand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned.

"I'm going to leave the priesthood, and I want to be with you. That is...if you'll still have me," Bob said.

Jocelyn blinked at him in a stunned manner. She shook her head and said, "You better not be fucking kidding me Bob or I won't hesitate in slapping you," she said seriously.

"I'm not kidding. I told the Archpriest and in a few weeks I'll relinquish my priesthood," Bob said.

"A few weeks? Why not today?" she said, frowning.

"Because I need to transfer over my duties and some other matters that I want to tie up," Bob said.

"Oh, okay. So, if I do this," Jocelyn said, getting up from her chair and going over to Bob to straddle him. She looked down at him and brushed her nose over his, tempting him with her lips. "You can touch me? You can kiss me?"

Bob's breathing accelerated and his hands glided up to her hips, she was wearing shorts, his hands smoothing out over her thighs. "No, I...I have to wait," Bob said, breathlessly. Her weight felt so good and her skin was so soft. He wanted badly to strip her out of her pajama's and see her naked.

"How many weeks, Bob?" she said, grabbing his face with one hand and squeezing.

"Three," he said, through squished lips. She left his face go and climbed off of him.

"We'll see about that," she said, removing her shirt and showing him her bare breasts. "Well, I'm going to go take a shower, you can either join me or leave," she said, tossing the shirt over his face.

Beneath the shirt, Bob sighed. Her smell was so sweet, lingering on the cloth of the shirt. He pulled it off and saw that she had gone, her shorts on the floor and panties tossed on his lap.

"Damn it, Jocelyn," Bob whispered, feeling his pants tighten.

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #facepuller #tom hardy smut #bob saginowski #bob saginowski smut

35 notes · View notes

troquantary · 3 years

Text

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #edward cullen #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #long post #major credit due to therealvinelle for having basically all the ideas already #theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin too since they agree and build off each other's metas a lot #idk how people who write meta can just crank these posts out i've been here for two hours #edited to add stuff i forgot to mention about edward's disproportionately violent fantasies

314 notes · View notes

wintrcaptn · 4 years

Text

Forbidden | Andy Barber

Summary : You used to babysit Jacob when he was younger and had the biggest crush on his dad, Andy. But being in High school at the time, you knew it was just a stupid fantasy that could never happen. Now, six years later, you were visiting your hometown while on winter break. Once you found out the news about Jacob, you knew you had to go check up on them. But things take a turn when you find yourself alone with Andy Barber.

A/N : I have fallen in love with Andy and can’t stop thinking about him. Hope you all enjoy it!!

“I can’t believe this.” You said, sitting across from one of your old high school friends.

“Yeah, it’s so crazy. Didn’t you used to babysit Jacob?” Aria asked.

You could only nod, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly, memories ofJacob flooded your mind. You remembered his sweet innocent smile, and his contagious laugh. Babysitting him never felt like a job. He was easy going and loving. You couldn’t believe he could ever hurt anyone.

“Well I should get going.” She said. “It was nice catching up. Should do this again.”

“Definitely!”

When you arrived back into town, you were so excited to see everyone and be home. But this wasn’t what you had in mind.

The Barber’s were the picture perfect family. The type of family you always wished you had.

A part of you envied Jacob. He had two amazing parents who loved him with everything they had, and the other part envied Laurie. That woman had it all. The job, the house, and especially the dreamy husband.

Andy was definitely your teenage crush. He was all you ever thought about. But being sixteen, you knew it was nothing more than a fantasy.

You sat at the diner for a long moment, before you heard murmurs behind you, speaking about Jacob, pulling you out of your head.

Just then, you knew you had to pay them a visit.

As you pulled up to the familiar house, your stomach churned. It was less inviting than before. Almost like it were haunted.

The picture perfect image, was now gone.

You made you way to the door, heart pounding faster with every step. You weren’t sure why you were nervous, since you have been there hundreds of times before, but this time was different.

Gently, you knocked on the wooden door. The nerves building up inside of you, as you stood there, waiting for an answer.

Andy was startled by the sound, muting the tv he waited for it again. Maybe it was all in his head?

A few seconds later, you knocked again.

He let out a sigh, before groggily propping up to his feet.

Looking through the peephole, he could only see the back of your head. Not knowing exactly who it was, he hesitantly opened the door.

In that moment, you snapped your attention back and met his tired, ocean like eyes. Seeing him there, you were instantly reminded why you liked him so much in high school.

Not much had changed, except for a few crinkles around his eyes. But other than that, he was still handsome as ever.

He couldn’t believe it was you. It had been so long, he almost didn’t recognize that it was you.

“H-Hi, Mr. Barber.” You stammered.

“Wow, Y/N! Is that really you?” He asked, a bit surprised. “I-I can’t believe it—it’s been how many years?”

“Six.” You chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m just visiting for the weekend, and thought I’d stop by. Catch up and what not.”

You weren’t sure if you should bring up the case. He looked exhausted, defeated even. You didn’t want to make thingns worse.

Andy wasn’t sure if you had heard about the news or not, but he was in need of a distraction. Something to get his mind off of everything, even if for just a little while.

He stepped off to the side, holding the door open and motioned for you to come in.

You flashed a soft smile and obliged.

The house had a few changes. Little tweaks here and there. The walls had some new photos hanging, and the couches were different. But it still reminded you of The Barber’s. Which felt nice since they were a big part of your life.

“Want something to drink?” He asked, making his way over to the kitchen.

“Water please.”

A soft chuckle escaped him but he didn’t say another word.

“Are Jacob and Mrs. Barber here?”

Andy swallowed hard after those names rolled off your tongue. If only you knew how bad it was, you wouldn’t have asked.

“They—um—they stepped out. Won’t be back for a while.” He said. Dancing around from telling you that in all actuality, they were at Jacob’s therapy session.

In that moment, you realized you were alone with Andy. Alone with the man you secretly wanted in high school.

Suddenly, you were even more nervous than before.

“O-oh.” You exhaled. “S-Should I come back later?”

He furrowed his brows and shook his head. “No, no. It’s fine.” He said. “I could really use some company. Besides, I want to know how you’ve been! You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you.”

And man, did he notice how much you’ve grown.

He had always thought you were beautiful, but never thought to cross the line. It was unethical. And he would never do anything to make you feel unsafe.

But here you were, no longer a girl in high school. He couldn’t help but notice the curves of your legs under your skinny jeans, and the way you lightly bit on your lower lip. It was something he never noticed before until now.

Now you were in your third year at Stanford. You’ve had boyfriends, and been to parties. Even had some crazy stories of your own.

The girl Andy remembers is all grown up. And you were mesmerizing.

His eyes lingered on you, as he took another sip of his beer. You could feel your stomach flutter.

“Yea, last time you saw me, I was about to start my senior year.” You chuckled. “Though it feels like it was just yesterday, I am now half way through my third year at Stanford.”

Andy flashed a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest, taking a seat on the couch.

You were sitting across from him, playing with the rim of the glass.

“That’s really something, Y/N.” He said. “I’m really happy for you.”

The two of you went on, filling in the past six years. Making each other laugh over little embarrassing moments, and awkward stories you had encountered through out your time away.

It was so refreshing for Andy to talk about something that wasn’t about the Murder case.

For a moment, he had almost forgot what it was like to genuinely have a conversation with someone.

Not feeling forced into smiling or having to come up with something to keep the convo going. It was easy, flowing as if you were two best friends.

Even back in high school, you two seem to connect in that sense. Nothing ever felt force. Part of the reason why you fell for the guy.

“Mr. barber, what is—“

“Please call me Andy.” He said cutting you off.

With the way he said his own name, and how he held your gaze, your stomach fluttered immensely, it was becoming a bit hard to concentrate.

“A-Andy.” You said, making him flash a smile. “What is one thing you remember most about me?”

He paused for a moment to think back from years ago. There were so many memories that stood out. Like the one where you two stayed up playing monopoly with Jacob.

But with what was happening right now, he decided to stay with something light hearted.

“I remember you were a big fan of that boy band—what was it, That direction or—“

“One Direction.” You cringed at the memory. “Yeah, wasn’t my proudest moment, but you got to admit they had some great hits!”

“Eh, if you’re into that kind of stuff.”

“I’m sorry, not everyone is stuck in the eighties like you old man.” You teased.

Andy belted our into laughter, his cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. “The eighties were the best!” He cackled. “Besides, I was born in the eighties.”

“Exactly. Old man.”

“Okay. Well, I’m still young at heart, so does that make me cool yet?”

You thought for just a moment, and then shrugged. “If you can name a song from today, I’ll consider it.”

Every time your eyes met, you almost forgot to breathe. And every time he smiled, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat. Here you were again, swooning over him.

But he’s married. And his son is suspected of murder. What the hell were you thinking?!

For a while, you were both caught up in the conversation, you didn’t realize how long you had been there,

Three hours.

“Damn. I can’t believe it’s been that long.” You chuckled. “Who would’ve thought talking to an old man would be so interesting.”

Andy tilted his head back and let out a genuine laugh.

“The older you get, the more stories you have.” He winked. “But on a serious note, I’m glad you stopped by.”

You flashed a smile, walking over to the door with Andy behind you.

“Me too.” You said. “I really missed you.”

Andy cocked a brow, his lips slightly twitching into a smirk.

“I—I mean missed being back here. Feels like old times.”

The two of you stood by the front door, your eyes glanced away, while his stayed on you. The feeling of his gaze made you hot.

Andy wasn’t sure what was happening or why he couldn’t stop thinking what he was thinking. But the longer he stood there, staring at you from you legs to your waist, all the way up to your lips, part of him began to feign for you. Wanting to feel you against him, and taste you.

It were as if he craved you, and having you dangle in front of him, it drove him crazy.

You hesitantly glanced up and met his gaze. And damn, with those alluring eyes of his, you weren’t able to move an inch, let alone, remember to breathe.

Andy couldn’t take it anymore. The tension was beginning to be too much, and all he cared about, all he wanted to do in that very instant was to kiss you. To feel something again. To feel you.

Without taking a second to think about it, he swiftly stepped closer to you and closed the distance.

The moment his lips pressed against yours, chills covered you completely. It didn’t take you long to motion back and give into him, running your hands through his hair, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

It was so intoxicating, you were high from it all.

The way his tongue danced along yours, and the way his teeth bit on your lower lip, your thigh clenched, yearning to feel more of him. To feel him press into you, pounding you. Just the thought made a soft moan escape out from your mouth.

The sound of you only made Andy crave you more. His only desire was to take you, right there.

Until footsteps neared and the sound of keys jingle caught your attentions.

Immediately, the two of you parted, trying to catch your breaths.

Andy had wiped his mouth, trying to seem less suspicious while you fixed your hair and stood across from him.

Before the door opened, you shared a glance, immediately feeling guilty.

Laurie was startled when she saw the two of you standing by the door. He brows were scrunched until she realized it was you.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N, you’re all grown up!” She said taking you for a tight hug.

Both you and Andy locked eyes again. This was it, the moment you realized, you were going to hell.

Jacob walked in to the house and flashed a cheeky grin, excited to see you.

When you saw how tall he was and how much he had grown, you were shocked and sad at the same time.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes slightly widened. “Jacob! You’re voice isn’t squeaky anymore! And—and you’re tall!”

He let out a chuckle, and shrugged. “Guess that’s what puberty does to you.”

“Guess so.” You smiled.

Standing there, seeing him after all these years, you still can only see the little boy you use to babysit. The little boy who loved to play board games and tag.

It broke your heart knowing that he was going through this. They all were.

“A-are you staying or—?” Jacob asked.

You shook your head and sighed. “No, I was just about to leave. I’m only here for the weekend, so I’m trying to make my rounds.”

His smile faltered and he glanced down. “Oh, okay.”

You couldn’t help but feel bad. Jacob was still a kid. Still that same little boy. And you were sure, I’m this town, no one was giving him the time of day. No matter what the truth was.

Everyone is so quick to point fingers and they don’t care about what he was going through.

“How about tomorrow I come over and we play monopoly, how does that sound?”

His eyes lit up almost instantly. “That would be cool.” He said. “As long as I get to be the hat.”

“Like always.” You chuckled. “Deal.”

Jacob waved and made his way upstairs. Laurie flashed a soft smile, her eyes looking as tired as Andy’s.

“I should get to bed too.” She said softly. “It was really nice seeing you again Y/N.”

Laurie gave your hand a little squeeze just before heading up to her room. Not once giving Andy the time of day. You were able to sense some tension there but didn’t say a word.

You swallowed hard, it was just the two of you. Again.

“I should go.” You said. “It was really nice to see you.”

Andy reached for your hand, pulling you to face him. Part of him wishing he could kiss you again, but the other part knew he shouldn’t.

“We need to talk about what happened.” He whispered.

Everything was just so complicated but with you, you made everything feel at ease. Like nothing could go wrong . It was hard to explain but being with you, everything felt right.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

And with that, you pulled out of his grasp and made your way to your car. His eyes lingered on you the entire time until you weren’t visible anymore.

He hated himself in that moment. And not because he kissed you, but because he wanted to do it again. He wanted to feel more of you.

Andy realized that the girl he really wanted, wasn’t his wife. The girl he needed, isn’t the woman sleeping on his bed tonight. And for that, he knew he screwed up.

“Dammit.” He grunted to himself.

——

Chapter Two

#chris evans #andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber x reader #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #marvel #steve rogers

1K notes · View notes

youngerdrgrey · 3 years

Text

the mile don't die club // a Batwoman oneshot

summary: Slight canon divergence for 2x08 where Ryan and Sophie chat post-Coryana, first right after and then again at the clinic. (Some angst but let's have some fun. This was a rough episode.) WildMoore + read on ao3 notes: Pretend with me for a moment that they don't have to think about the Kate of it all for, like, a split second after the Coryana meltdown, okay? Like the news of Kate being dead isn't a thing. We get to have a split second of fun. We open on the plane with Sophie and Ryan-as-Batwoman, while Jacob Kane flies them home.

Ryan winces as the turbulence jostles her again. The heavy shaking reignites the fire in her body. One particularly strong one sends Ryan away from the window and spilling over partially into the empty seat beside her.

Sophie quickly unbuckles and crosses the row to sit beside Ryan. She softly lifts Ryan from the half-bent position and props Ryan against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sophie says. “It’s been a while since he’s flown a plane.” She chuckles, but there’s a nervous edge under it. “I think I’ll stick to commercial flights.”

It’s not a good joke, but the fact that Sophie’s trying is a comfort. Why joke when the other person’s dying, right? Plus, talking kind of helps Ryan stay awake.

Ryan swallows around her tight throat to say, “This is my second flight ever.” A labored breath. “I’m glad to have done it before dying.”

“Whoa, Luke has a cure. You’re not dying. And you’re not giving up. Kate was… one of the best people I ever knew, and I’d really like her legacy to continue.”

It’s a more honest side to Sophie than Ryan’s ever seen with her own eyes. They’re shoulder to shoulder for the second time tonight. The view of the burning Desert Rose was definitely better than the inside of this stolen plane, but the warmth and steadiness of Sophie beside her is the same. Still comforting enough that it stops up her emotions like a lump in her chest. Ryan’s breath shakes around it. Sophie takes her hand again over the gloves of the suit. If Ryan has to die on this plane, let it be like this.

Her whole body’s heavy, tired, and she sinks closer to the comfort Sophie’s offering so willingly. “Don’t look.” She’s dozing off, so she can’t fully tell if she says it aloud. “You won’t… like me if you look.”

Sophie stares down at her, and her voice comes out soft and contemplative. “Why’s that?” But Ryan can’t get the energy up to answer. She shrugs.

🦇

Ryan jolts awake with a gasp. She yanks at the cowl when Luke stops her. His hands warm and steady on hers. “Hey, breathe. Batwoman , wait.” His eyes dart towards the door to the clinic hallway. “We’re not alone in the building.”

Her whole face crumples in confusion. “Who—”

“Sophie. She, uh, waited for you… to wake up.” He looks more confused than worried.

Ryan’s adrenaline kicks in for a moment of clarity. “Did she look?” If Sophie knows, then everything gets more complicated. Their begrudging partnership, their very real world problems.

Luke shakes his head. “I-I don’t think so. I feel like your secret’s safe. But she did want to see you so…. Can I bring her in or…?”

Ryan blinks a few times to try and clear her head. Take stock of the room. Luke’s closest to her. Right at her bed. Mary is near the door. Mary saved her. God, she loves Mary. Best friend / roommate / illegal doctor around. Mary smiles at Ryan.

“I’m all for it,” Mary says. Ryan doesn’t remember asking, but it makes sense that she might’ve asked something.

Ryan clicks back on the voice modifier in the suit. “Fine. Bring her in.”

The Sophie who enters isn’t the Crow that Ryan’s interacted with time and time again. This is someone unsure. Someone curious and nervous and worried in a way that doesn’t feel misplaced or condescending. It’s confusing to see the way that Sophie’s face splits up with relief at the sight of Batwoman sitting up in the bed. Also confusing — Ryan recognizes the worry. She’s seen this crinkle around Sophie’s eye, this tension in her jaw that snaps free with a tiny sigh.

How long has Sophie cared about Ryan? And would she look this visibly relieved if she knew it was Ryan under the mask?

Ryan shakes her head to clear the thought, but then Sophie’s crossing a few more steps in to be close to the bed. Mary and Luke stay guard, on either side of the room, and they cut glances between each other like they can’t decide if giving privacy would be better or worse in the long run.

“At ease, guys. I just… wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.” There’s a roughness in Sophie’s voice, a graveled out roughed up core like she’s been worrying herself into a lower register.

Ryan nearly smiles. “Thanks to you. You, uh…”

“Saved your life?” Sophie offers with a grin. “Repaying the favor.”

Right. Ryan had chosen to save Sophie rather than keep the map to Coryana. It’d worked out well in the end, given that then Sophie could get Ryan back out of there.

“Consider us even.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sophie says, a tinge of humor in her voice, “but getting you all the way back here without endangering your identity…”

Ryan cuts her eyes to Luke, as her eyebrows shoot up. He can’t see it with the mask, but Ryan would love to spit an ‘I told you so’ to him. There’s always an ulterior motive with someone like Sophie.

Sophie shrugs. “It’s gotta be worth a drink at least.”

Ryan sputters. Mary squeaks on the other side of the room. As everyone turns to her, Mary quickly says, “She can’t drink on medication. Even with a magical cure all. It’s just, you know, normal… doctor… stuff.”

Sophie nods. “Of course. Another time then.” It’s not a question, but she does turn back to Ryan like she’s waiting for a response.

But Ryan’s stumped. How does she respond to something like that? She’d expected Sophie to be intense. Sophie’s always been this person who favors responsibility and all this stuff over everything. She only makes jokes when she has the upper hand. She literally got Ryan to spy on her ex and cost Ryan the latest take with Angelique. And now, what, she wants to be friends? Or is she looking to add another Bat-shaped notch to her bedpost?

It should make Ryan upset, but honestly, Ryan wonders which version of Sophie would be there if they got a drink. If Ryan were in the Batsuit, then maybe Sophie would be more open, more like… talkative maybe. But the suit would be so uncomfortable. It’d be better out of it. Better at The Hold Up, or on the couch in the loft. Sophie’s raspy voice giving way to a rough laugh, and Ryan could be as warm in front of a very different fire than the wild one on Coryana.

Ryan blinks the images away. Her face burns as her brows scrunch. She doesn’t even have a fireplace. Why would they need it? Where would they have that? On a vacation, just the two of them. No flying this time. A boat maybe. Wind in their hair, some nice bikinis.

Wait. “No.” Ryan shakes her head. “No, thank you.” She needs to clear her head, and having Sophie here right now is not helping. Especially not when Sophie smiles at her after Ryan says no.

Sophie nods. “Copy that. We can pass on the drinks. We’re not done — not with looking for Kate, or this conversation.” Then she turns to Mary and Luke and sort of nods, like giving them her okay to keep going. Ryan can practically hear the ‘Take care of her’ in Sophie’s stare. Mary nods back, clearly accepting the mission. And then Sophie’s gone.

They can hear her footsteps get further and further away. Hear the clinic door shut.

Mary’s got a shit-eating grin on her face. She does this sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a groan as she crosses over to the bed. “I cannot believe Sophie just asked you out.”

Ryan’s thankful for the cowl still covering her flushed cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in eating Crow.”

Luke snorts, which makes Ryan rethink her words. Mary full on cackles. Ryan sits up to throw the closest thing across the room at both of them.

“Eat! I said EAT! Not eating ou—“

“I didn’t say anything!” Luke says, but he keeps laughing. Mary too, and Ryan joins in. Ryan wills her brain not to procure any images to follow that train of thought. The last thing she needs is to start having sex dreams about Sophie. Though, if it’s between that and the kryptonite nightmares…. There are worse ways to go.

🦇

#wildmoore #ryan x sophie #ryan wilder #sophie moore #batwoman #batwoman fic #batwoman: s2 #mine #batwoman: 208 #bat team of color

13 notes · View notes

pinkja · 3 years

Text

Strange Kids, Those Frye Twins

In which Ethan Frye notices the oddly weird behavior of his children that indicates a much deeper level of sentience than anyone could’ve thought they had.

—

Ethan Frye didn’t know when he started noticing it, the strange… patterns he sees in his children. He could’ve chalked it up to his absence for the first six years of their lives, something that could’ve existed long before he entered their lives and would exist long after.

He would’ve chalked it up to that if it weren’t the general uneasiness their behavior caused in him. The queasiness he felt in one look that lingered on for a second too long, the too quiet steps that one would attribute to a Master Assassin, not two six, seven come November, year old kids who haven’t even started training, or the slight tilt of their heads when they thought they were alone, even for the briefest moments, before they caught wind of some else’s presence and just started… staring at whomever dared to interrupt their… whatever.

And at first Ethan brushed that story off, dismissing the cautiousness of the maids and servants as mere stories. That was until he experienced it himself one September morning, the third of September, he remembers. It was almost midnight, he was exhausted, and he had been working so hard that day that he didn’t even have time to wish his children goodnight. Not like he usually did, but it was nice to put in the effort sometimes. He was on his way to his own bedroom, footsteps quiet due to years of training, and passed the twins bedroom.

The door was open, an unusual sight to Ethan. He paused before passing the door, masked his presence by hiding in the shadows, and utilized his Second Sight, only to see two small figures of… of… Ethan didn’t know how to describe it, but his head was hurting the more he looked, and the warmth in his chest clued him in to the fact that those were his children. With his Second Sight, he could see that they were sitting on their beds, Evie on the left side of the room, and Jacob on the right. Their heads were tilted, and one leg dangled off the bed, swinging side to side in a hypnotic motion. They were a mirror image of each other. Mid swing they paused the movement of their leg, almost as if they were frozen in time, and in the blink of an eye, their heads were turned to Ethan’s direction, as if they were staring right at him through the wall.

Something told him to stay there, to not make himself known and wait until their attention was somewhere else, but that queasy feeling came back again and he knew it wouldn’t go away until the twins weren’t staring at him through the wall. So he deactivated his Second Sight, and took a few loud steps until he was in front of their strangely opened door, in their line of sight.

They were still staring at him, six-year-old eyes wide like saucers, and almost shining in the completely dark room. Ethan looked around, trying to understand what the hell his kids were doing. The window was closed, and thick curtains had been placed in front of it, allowing nothing but darkness to be in the room. They didn’t even light a lamp, which made sense since they were supposed to be sleeping, but it didn’t feel… right to say that was the reason. It wasn’t true.

Once his inspection of the room was over, he met the eyes of his children once again, and he swore they hadn’t blinked this entire time, eyes both watery and shining like a child, but dry from not functioning properly. Ethan wondered how that could be as he tried to figure out something to say now that he held their gazes, or gaze. He often thought they shared one eye, one touch, one mind, and soul, and that theory only seemed to be proven correct in the years to come.

“I thought you two would be asleep by now.” He scolded himself for letting that be the best thing he could have come up with in that moment.

Jacob, always the aloof one, well towards Ethan at least, didn’t respond. The twins both blinked, finally, in unison, before Evie responded, for the both of them, Ethan assumed. “We do not need to. Goodnight.” They continued to stare at him as he stood there for a few more seconds, until he gave a curt nod, voice caught in his throat at the abrupt farewell, and moved past the door, not even bothering to remember about the open door until he heard the pitter-patter of a child’s footsteps, purposely loud, that he knows, and the click of the door as it shut.

That night, Ethan wondered if they had left the door open on purpose or not. Was he meant to see that, or did he intrude on something meant for someone, or something, else? Each answer made him uneasy again, and he knew that his children wouldn’t stop making him feel that way.

His children, he didn’t know just why yet, but his children were indescribable. He didn’t know what the reason was for their behavior or what actions they were going to take because of it. And no matter what excuse he brings up, whether it be due to their grandmother’s influence, some strange drink or food, or whatever, it never seems to fit. It never seems to describe what was the root of this… he didn’t want to call it an issue, but it was definitely a mystery. One that Ethan doesn’t believe that he will be able to solve in his lifetime.

The queasy feeling comes back to him that night at dinner. He is the first one at the dinner table, a strange occurance, as the twins’ grandmother always told him of how they would rush to the table at dinner time, the appetite of toddlers insatiable. But he waits for his children, watching the entryways to the dining room to greet them. It hasn’t fully settle in, that queasy feeling, not until he looks away from the entryway and sees Evie and Jacob sitting in their respective chairs across from him. Evie on the left, and Jacob on the right.

They’re a bit taller now, Ethan denotes, when he figures out that they aren’t using a book to make them taller. Of course he realizes this before the shock of their sudden appearance can settle in fully. Once it does, the queasy feeling comes back in droves. He didn’t hear them walk in, let alone see them. Sure, there were other entries, but those were only known to Ethan and his allies in the Brotherhood, used for late night meetings and exchange of information that can’t be disclosed anywhere else. Ethan doubts that they know of those, but couldn’t, nor wouldn’t, put it past them. He also couldn’t excuse the possibility that they just… appeared, no matter how absurd he thought the explanation was. He kids were absurd, yeah, that’s the word! His kids were absurd.

Evie places her hands upon her lap, while Jacob places his on each side of the small plate in front of him. Jacob’s hands are wet and red, as if he ran them under hot water, and he’s slightly hunched over, staring at his empty plate with no emotion in those hazel eyes. Evie sits quietly, spine straight and fiddling with the white ribbon in her braided hair with her left hand, also wet, and also red.

“I’m surprised you two are late. You’re usually the first ones to be at the dinner table, according to your grandmother.” He can see the frown form on the twins’ faces, or face, they are alike in so many aspects, at the mention of their grandmother. It is a quick change from their blank stare just a second before. Ethan’s hand reaches for the bell to signal the servants to bring out the food. He is aware of the gaze on his hand, not red and wet like his children, and Ethan should probably ask about that before they started eating. “Did you two just finish washing up?” He asks, gesturing to their hands as he watches the servants bring in plates of dinner in a straight line. When he turns back to his children, they’re both staring intensely at him, head tilted just a bit, just for a second, before straightening out. Ethan tries not to startle at it, and coughs to keep his composure. They both nod, once, in response to him as the plates of food clatter in contact with the table, and the servants bow before leaving.

He can vaguely hear the servants’ whispers of a couple of children gone missing around town earlier. He should probably set an earlier curfew for his children.

He tries to spark up a conversation with the twins to distract him from that.

“So, what have you two been up to today?” He asks as he watches the two fix their plates with their red and wet hands, listening to the clinks of utensils as they grab their fill. Once they were done, Jacob and Evie switch plates, a strange ritual that Ethan has yet to figure out, but doesn’t want to interrupt, so he waits until they are done to grab food for himself.

Evie shoves food in her mouth before she can answer, and it is Jacob who speaks to him this time. “We played,” is his answer, and Ethan tries not to let the shock and unease show. It isn’t Jacob’s response that shocks him, but the fact that he spoke to him instead of Evie. He and Jacob had never truly gotten off on the right foot, the boy suspicious of him ever since his return from India. Ethan understands, of course. Understands that all he knew was his sister and grandmother, and never him, but even Evie was more open to Ethan than he. Evie spoke to him, Evie returned his hugs and signs of affection, Evie was a daughter. Jacob was not a son, or at least not yet. Ethan’s sure that it would resolve itself soon, he hopes.

And Ethan knows he shouldn’t be thinking these thoughts, knows that some part of Jacob, and therefore some part of Evie, feels the distance between them. The rift that exists due to years of absence. But he was trying to make it better, couldn’t he, and therefore they, recognize that?

Ethan moved to put food, pork, on his plate, grabbing greens as well, just to set a good example for his children.

“You shouldn’t be out all day,” Ethan starts, as he watches Jacob pick at the food on his plate. Did he not want to eat? Even after Evie had picked out what she knew he wanted? Strange. “You two aren’t able to defend yourselves properly, and there are a lot of strange people out there that could hurt you.” Evie blinks, swallowing her food before looking at Jacob, then down at his plate of food. Jacob was eating now, fingers tapping on the table.

“We are fine.” Jacob says once more, before the two eat in silence. Ethan decides to join them.

His eyes rake over his children, at Jacob’s chubby cheeks, his hair shiny, like his mother, and the way he twirls his fork around in between bites of food. He looks at Evie, who has been silent this whole dinner, who looks at Jacob out of the corner of her eyes, the ones that they share. The ones that sees everything Jacob sees, and observes him as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Her dress today is pink, a color he doesn’t see her wear often, and in her shiny hair is a white ribbon that Ethan doesn’t remember her wearing earlier. Although now that he’s thinking about it, did Evie change clothes throughout the day? Did Jacob? He doesn’t remember what they were wearing this morning, but it couldn’t have been black slacks and a blue shirt, in the case of Jacob, or the pink dress that Evie wears, could it? As he tries to think back to this morning, think back to his children, he realizes his memory is a bit fuzzy. He can’t visualize them clearly, can’t visualize the clothes they’re wearing, the expressions on their face, the words they spoke.

Was he just not paying attention? Was he just an awful father for not noticing?

Ethan focuses on his children once again. Playing, Jacob had said, but there were no signs of it on their figures. No dirt on Jacob’s clothes, no sweat on Evie’s brow, no harsh breathing from hours of playing. They’re cheeks are unusually flushed, but not from running, just from being extremely healthy. Now, Ethan could chalk it up to them just washing up before dinner, like they said they did, but he knew that it was a lie, that they didn’t do any of that.

What the hell did his children get up to today?

It was mid afternoon, The Twins could guess. Father is the one who kept the time, and Father is out doing god knows what. The Twins are in some field, one they’ve visited many times before, with lots of flowers and a stream not that far off. Evie, a Twin, sat down in the tall grass, dull brown hair flowing over her shoulders, touching a dress that had no color. In her lap sat a book, one she had read so long ago, and many Times before. Her skin was paler than normal, eyes less shiny than they should have been. Her eyes flickers over to her Twin, Jacob, who was near the stream, running back and forth as a crow rested on his thin, raised wrist. He wore pants and a button shirt that had no color, bare feet barely touching the grass as he ran. Dull brown hair flew over his unlit eyes, barely breaking a sweat as he hops into the air. The bird stayed perched, but gave its black wings a flap. Jacob settles down, catching Evie’s gaze and walking towards her. Evie closes her book, setting it down beside her, to her left, always to her left. Jacob, a Twin, her Twin, sits to her right, keeping his left arm raised so Evie can see the crow, a rook, clearly. Its black eyes stared at Evie, head cocked to the side, and Evie did the same.

Once their inspection of each other ended, Evie nods, looking at Jacob, who gives Evie a wide smile at her approval. Evie speaks, voice far beyond her years, petting the crow’s head with her finger. “A crow, this Time?”

Jacob nodded, rubbing under the bird’s beak. “Yup! This little bugger’s gonna be my Bird!” Evie nodded, moving her dull hair out of her face. “We need a name for him!” Jacob declared, looking around to spot something to give him a clue.

The Twins pause, blinking once, twice, before craning their heads near the trees that block the field off from the rest of the world. There stood a little girl, older then The Twins’ given age, around thirteen or fourteen years old. She’s wearing a pink dress, and has a white ribbon holding her hair in a braid. Next to her stood a boy, same age as the girl, wearing black dress pants, a blue overcoat, and black boots, strange dress for the slightly warm weather. The two were walking over to The Twins, bending down in front of them with wide smiles.

“Little girls shouldn’t play with animals like that, y’know?” The pink dressed girl says. Her hair doesn’t get in her face like Evie’s did. Evie blinks as she registers she was being talked to, and leans away a bit as she realizes the two strangers are in her space, in Their space. It was Their space. Jacob moves his arm away from the boy as he tried to touch his Bird. The rook gave a small caw of caution. Jacob eyes narrow at the frown on the boy’s face. “Come on, my friend and I have a better things we all can do then sit here in the dirt.” The little girl says, tugging on Evie’s dress without color. A sound of disapproval comes out of Jacob’s mouth, an animalistic sound almost. One look from Evie placated him, as his Twin took her arm back.

“Our friend has a carriage, you know! He said he’s going to let us visit the countryside, and you can come with us if you want.” The boy said as he tried to pet Jacob’s Bird once more. The Bird nipped at his fingers, cawing even louder. Jacob can feel his teeth grind together in annoyance, an emotion he doesn’t feel often in this Time.

The Twins stay silent though, still staring at the strangers with suspicion.

The strangers falter under the stare of The Twins, but didn’t back down. “Come on,” whined the girl, “it’ll be fun! I promise!” She widens her eyes, something that The Twins are sure worked on many others. Not them, however.

The Twins are smart enough to know the strangers are trying to lure them somewhere. For what, The Twins do not care. All they care about is the fact that these strangers are in Their space, Their bubble.

The Twins gave one look to each other. An ask for permission. An understanding reached. A decision made.

In unison, they, The Twins, turned back towards the strangers as the sun seemed to dim, gone so, so fast, leaving the field in a semi state of darkness. In that state of darkness, The Twins eyes glow a color that could not be described, like ancient beings thought to only be seen in the sky. The wind blew, picking up speed slightly, whipping the stranger’s hair and clothes around them as it got darker and darker. The Twins remain unaffected by the change in weather, eyes boring into the souls of the strangers, who were unable to look away from the only source of light in the pitch black of the field.

A caw from the bird, an unseen flap of its wings, and as soon as the change started, it was over.

When the light returned, The Twins were petting the bird, staring at one another as another understanding was reached.

The strangers are gone now, were never there as far as The Twins are concerned.

There is new life in The Twins, that much anyone could tell if they could remember what they looked like before.

Their cheeks are rosier, hair shining in the sunlight, the eyes that they share bright. Evie holds a white ribbon in her hand, holding it out towards Jacob. Jacob nods and sets his Bird down on the ground. He stands up, adjusting his blue shirt and wiping off the dirt from his black pants, before settling behind Evie, his Twin. He grabs the ribbon from her hand and moves her shiny brown hair from hair face, letting it fall behind her. He braids her hair, tying it together with the white ribbon, readjusting the braid until it falls over her left shoulder, settling on her pink dress.

“Colin.” Evie says once Jacob was done, fiddling with her new ribbon. Jacob looks at his Bird, who looks back at The Twins with a tilt of its head. The Twins did the same.

“Yes, Colin.” Jacob says, happy that his Bird has a Given name for this Time. Evie smiles as well, standing up with her Twin. Colin gives another flap of its wings, wanting to fly, and needing permission. Jacob nods, and The Twins watch the bird fly towards the sky, circling over them for protection. They take a few steps over to the river, feet barely touching the ground as they bend down, Evie to the left, Jacob to the right. In unison they submerge their hands in the running water, interrupting the age old flow. They sit like this for a while, watching as the water starts to bubble up, like a pot of water sitting over a fire. They keep their hands there and watch as steam rises from the water, surrounding them and clouding their vision.

A few seconds pass and they remove their hands, now wet and red, from the water. The Twins are clean now. They stand up in unison, wiping the dirt from their knees, and Jacob raises an arm for Colin. The Bird came, sitting on his wrist with a cry.

“No.” Evie says as she goes to pick up her book. Jacob turns to her with a frown. “No.” She repeats, turning to her Twin. “He will not know what to do with Colin.” She states as a fact. It was. Evie gives her brother a sympathetic look. “Colin will still be here, Jacob. We will come back after Father leaves.” The frown never left Jacob’s face, but he knows his Twin is right. With a lift of his arm, Colin is gone, circling the air once more. “He needs Father’s trust.” Evie states another fact as they walk out the field.

“No.” Jacob objects, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Jacob.”

“No!”

Evie sighs, taking his hand in hers. A touch that calmed her Twin down. “It doesn’t have to be a full conversation. You know that as well as I. Just establish a connection so Colin doesn’t see him as a threat.” She gave his fingers a squeeze, and Jacob lets out a huff.

“Fine. I draw the line at 3 sentences, though.”

“Deal.” She says, connecting their foreheads for a brief moment.

The Twins walked back to their home hand-in-hand, with a cry of Jacob’s Bird loud overhead.

As they prepare for bed that night, The Twins stand at the foot of their beds, staring at the opened door in anticipation. They can sense Father’s presence before they hear his footsteps, purposely loud this time. The Twins tilt their heads towards each other for a moment, reaching another understanding before focusing their eyes on Father’s figure.

Ethan didn’t know why his heart was beating so loudly as he walked towards the twin’s room. He tries to keep it in check as he approaches, footsteps loud in order to cover up the banging of his beating heart. Which sound the twins heard first, he is not sure. Once he reaches their door, he gives them a crooked smile, an odd thing to do, but he hopes expressing kindness would placate the… fear? Did he fear his children? God no, of course he didn’t, but it was something akin to that, was it not? The knowledge that his children were something else, something much… older or certainly not human, but at the same time they were. Maybe an ancient subset of human, or maybe something that came before, evolved into the now.

Whatever his children were, whatever they are or have been or will be, Ethan would have to deal with it accordingly, deal with their absurdity in a way that would not have them turn on him once a wrong step was made.

“I just wanted to say goodnight,” he states, fingers drumming on the doorframe, and as he looked at their slightly glowing eyes, he wonders how many times his children have been on this Earth before, how much knowledge they have, how much they experienced. They blink at him, and Ethan feels his uneasiness return.

“Goodnight, Father.” They say in unison, and Ethan is once again shocked at Jacob’s speaking. He watches them climb into bed, laying down on their side and facing one another without blinking. At this point Ethan knows he’s observing something he shouldn’t be, so he closes the door and walks back to his room for the night.

Yeah, he would have to deal with his children accordingly, even if he doesn’t completely understand what the hell they are yet.

#assassin’s creed syndicate #assassin's creed #assassin’s creed #jacob frye #ethan frye #Evie Frye #ac syndicate #assassin’s creed fanfic #assassin’s creed fic #fanfic #horror #?#would you call it that #Frye Twins #eldritch beings

40 notes · View notes

booksalwaysandforever · 4 years

Text

Holding on to the Memories Chapter 3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Summary: Lauren’s life was a perfect dream, until one day it wasn’t. Cutting can distract you from life, but it can also take life away. Can Lauren get back home, or has it all been taken away from her?

Tag list: @kai-unknown

Length: almost 3000 words, it’s pretty long!

I’m so sorry, it has been forever since I posted. This chapter took a long time to write and I have had a rough couple weeks. I absolutely love this chapter and I hope you do too! I will try and get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one.

The darkness was all consuming. There was no way out, and no way to tell how long I had been here. It could’ve been 5 minutes or a month. I didn’t know.

All of a sudden, the darkness lit up with millions of colors. At first, I thought the light was back, but as I watched the scene in front of me unfold, I quickly realized that wasn’t it at all.

“Please, take care of her,” a woman, my birth mother, said as she handed a baby to Carlisle.

“We will take care of her and give her a life as grand as if she were a princess.” She smiled at the answer and closed her eyes as her breathing stopped. Carlisle turned to the baby in his arms. “Welcome to the family, Lauren. I promise to love you as if you were my own daughter, as I’m sure Esme and the rest of your siblings will as well.” With that, he turned and rushed away.

This was a memory. It was mine, but at the same time, it wasn’t. I was too young to remember this. It must’ve been Carlisle’s. It was the day he found and adopted me. Carlisle had been hunting nearby and could smell the blood. He came as fast as he could to see what had happened and if he could help. Sadly, my dad was killed on impact and my mother was severely hurt. Carlisle couldn’t save her, but before she died, she gave me to Carlisle, in hopes that he could give me an amazing life.

The memory quickly faded into another one.

“Everyone, I have some news,” Carlisle said as he walked through the door. “Meet your new little sister. Her parents were in a car crash and she has no other family, so she’ll be staying with us.”

Everyone piled around, getting a good look at their sister.

“Nessie,” Edward said, “she looks a little like you. And a lot like you did when you were human, Bella.”

“Yeah, brown hair, brown eyes, so similar.” Renesmee said, rolling her eyes as she moved closer to me. “Hi there girly. I’m Nessie, your big sister.” The little baby giggled and stretched their hands out to grab at Renesmee’s hand. When she got a hold of it, she pulled the fingers into her mouth and began sucking on them.

“I think she’s going to start using us all as teething rings,” Esme laughed as she reached her hands out to Carlisle. “Come here girly, Mommy wants to meet you.”

The moment Esme got her hands on the little girl, she began swaying side to side and humming to her. The baby was asleep within a minute.

“What’s her name, Carlisle?” Rosalie asked.

“Lauren Lee Stoel. She is about 4 months old I do believe. I have yet to see her official birth certificate, but I’m sure I will soon. The adoption process starts on Monday.”

“Wait, we’re actually adopting her?” Esme asked with a huge grin on her face.

“Yes dear. In a matter of months, she will officially be ours. She will officially be a Cullen.”

The scene faded again as another one began appearing. Renesmee was showing me as many memories as she could find, memories from my life, taken from the rest of my family, trying to help me wake up.

Esme opened the door to a room and walked in. I followed her in, but it was so dark, I couldn’t see anything. As my eyes adjusted, I realized it was the nursery. A baby, little me, was lying in a crib with Jasper sitting in the rocking chair nearby, reading a book.

“Jasper, what are you doing?” Esme quietly asked.

“I’m tryin’ to get used to her scent and calm ‘er down. She was fidgeting and having a nightmare, I think. I was gonna try and calm her down.”

Ever since that day, Jasper had been my best friend. Slowly, he had gotten used to me and every time I hurt myself or couldn’t sleep, he calmed me down.

The next memories were like pictures. There wasn’t much for talking, but there were short snippets of my life as a baby, captured like a picture.

Jasper was holding me and singing me to sleep while rocking in the rocking chair.

Rosalie was feeding me some mashed peas, which I had effectively flung back into her face. Everyone, including Rosalie, laughed.

Edward sat me in his lap, and was playing the piano. After a moment, I recognized the tune as my lullaby. I was banging on the piano as hard as I could, making it impossible for him to play.

Alice had dressed me up like a princess, practically in a ballgown. Baby me did not like that. I was screaming my lungs out and trying to pull it off.

Emmett was lying on the ground beside me, playing with me. After a few moments, I yawned and fell asleep. Emmett appeared not to notice and continued playing with my fascinating baby toys.

As I watched these pictures, I realized that Renesmee wasn’t in all of them. She must have talked to everyone, asking them to tell her about some memories they had of me, and she painted the picture in my head. It was almost like I was there with them, watching myself grow up.

“Oh Lauren! Look at you! You’re so grown up,” Rosalie cooed. Emmett was holding onto my hands, helping my almost one year old self walk across the living room floor. “Come here, come to Rosy”

I let go of Emmett’s hands and walked the small three steps into Rosalie’s arms.

“Oh! Lauren, you did it!” she gasped.

“Yeah, you can walk now!” Emmett shouted

And another memory. A birthday no less.

“Happy birfday to me!!” I cried as I shoved my entire face into the birthday cake Alice had made for my first birthday.

“See, this is why we had to strip her before we let her eat it,” Carlisle said. “Lauren, do you like cake?”

“Oooooh, cake. I like cake,”

“Esme, I don’t think a bath is going to clean her. We’re going to need a garden hose.”

“I’ll go get the power washer!”

Everyone laughed. “Emmett, no! You do not get to hose down your sister with the power washer.”

Images of my second, third, and fourth birthday all passed by, along with many different images of me playing games with my family, meeting the wolves and playing with them, and other random memories. None of them were very long, just a moment or two, but that didn’t mean they weren’t important to me.

“Emmett, Jasper, can you guys take Lauren and go shopping for food for her this afternoon? Your father has to work and the rest of us need to go hunting,” Esme asked the boys.

“Sure thing, Mom,” Jasper said as he grabbed the keys. Emmett helped me put my shoes on and buckled me into my booster seat.

“So, what do you want for supper Lauren?” Emmett asked, turning around in his seat to look at me.

“Pancakes. And Mac and Cheese. Oh! And chicken nuggets.” Jasper laughed.

“We’ll see what we can get you squirt.”

When we got to the store, Emmett and Jasper followed me around the store and let me pick out anything I wanted. The best part of being the youngest kid was that all of my older siblings didn’t have the ability to say no to me. After 30 minutes of following me around the store, we walked out with several bags, mostly consisting of sugar, and brought them to the car.

After spending the afternoon playing games and running around the house with Emmett and Jasper, everyone came home.

“So, how was shopping, boys?” Esme asked.

“Good, we got everything Lauren wanted.”

“Oh no. No no no.” Esme put her head in her hands. “Please tell me you bought more than just donuts, ice cream, and candy bars.”

“Don’t worry, we did. We also got her some fruit snacks, fruit roll ups, juice boxes, popsicles, and chocolate milk,” said Emmett with an innocent grin on his face.

“And some Mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, yogurt, fish sticks, and stuff for pancakes and waffles. Don’t worry, there is some actual food in there,” Jasper said, laughing at Esme’s horrified face.

“So Lauren, what do you want to be for Halloween?” Jacob asked me.

“That’s a secret. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jacob always took Renesmee and I trick or treating. Renesmee was only one year older than my four year old self, so she passed for a young teenager. People still gave her candy when she was with me, so we always went together. Most of the time, it was too sunny out when we started trick or treating so none of the rest of the family could come.

A week later, it was time to go trick or treating. Alice was in my room helping me get ready.

“Lauren, are you almost ready? We need to go before all the good candy is gone,” Jacob called from down the stairs.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” I shouted back. As I walked down the stairs, Jacob started laughing. I was dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood, and Renesmee and I convinced him to be a wolf. Renesmee was dressed as a grandma to follow along with the whole scheme.

“See, we match!”

From that day on, Jacob always called me Little Red. My Halloween costumes had earned me several nicknames. I dressed up as a bear for Emmett one year and he had begun to call me “brown bear”. I became known as “spider monkey” to Edward because I dressed up as a spider monkey one year for him, and the fact that I would always climb on everything when I was little. To Jasper, I was his “mini major”. I had dressed up as a cowgirl once and I often had a bit of a temper and was pretty sassy. The best Halloween costume though, was when I dressed up as a vampire. Alice and Edward helped me get red contacts, fake fangs, a cape, and everything else to help me look like a vampire in movies, even some fake blood and red juice to drink. Everyone loved it. It was by far, the best Halloween costume ever.

“Can I please know what my birthday present is?” I asked. Jasper had blind folded me and had slung me over his shoulder while he carried me somewhere.

“No. It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, please? Pretty please? I’m seven now. I should get to know.”

“No.”

“Wow, this is one of the first times you’ve said no.” Jasper laughed.

“We’ve all had a hard time saying no to you since you’re so cute.”

“I’m not cute,” I exclaimed as I hit him as hard as I could without hurting myself. “Rosalie says I’m beautiful. Also, your shoulder hurts. It’s too hard. I’m going to break my hand one of these days from smacking you or Emmett.” Jasper laughed at me again.

“Then maybe don’t hit us.”

“But you deserve to be hit.”

“I agree with Lauren.” Rosalie said, standing somewhere beside me. Jasper set me down on the ground. I could tell we were outside due to the sound of the creek and the breeze blowing my hair.

“Okay, are you ready to see your birthday present?”

“Yes. I’ve been waiting a whole year!” Everyone laughed.

“Okay then.”

Rosalie untied the blindfold and everyone at the party began singing happy birthday. My family, the pack, Grandpa Charlie, Grandma Sue, Grandpa Billy, and even my aunts and uncles from Alaska were there. Alice had made this a huge party, with fairy lights hanging from the trees, a huge banner that said “Happy 7th birthday, Lauren” in fancy calligraphy, and a huge birthday cake. But the coolest thing I saw was a swimming pool with a diving board and slide, a trampoline, and a tree house in the climbing tree.

“A tree house, a pool, and a trampoline?” I exclaimed, jumping up and down.

“Yes dear,” said Carlisle. “You’ve been begging us to get at least one for a while and you’ve been doing amazing in school, so we decided to let you have all three.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I shouted as I gave him and Esme hugs. I ran over to the trampoline, and Seth, Jacob, Emmett, and Jasper followed me.

“Boys,” Esme called. “That is Lauren’s gift. Let's not break it on the first day.”

A billion more memories went through my head. Memories of riding on Jacob’s back through the forest and going on runs with all of my siblings and the rest of the pack. Memories of playing tons of board games and video games with Emmett and Jasper, learning to play piano with Edward, and learning to dance with all my brothers and Dad. Going shopping with Rosalie, Alice, and Bella, spending the night at Renesmee’s house and her spending the night with me. Having sleepovers at Grandpa Charlie and Grandma Sue’s house, sleepovers with the pack at Sam and Emily’s house, and even sleepovers in Alaska with Aunt Tanya, Aunt Kate, and Uncle Garrett. Making a flower crown for everyone in the Volturi when they came to visit, making Marcus smile for the first time in a very long time, pretending to be a vampire princess when I visited their palace. Singing and dancing for my entire family, playing tag with everyone, only for it to end with someone catching me, throwing me in the air, and tickling me. Memories of things like going tubing, or to an amusement park with Renesmee, Jacob, Seth, and sometimes the rest of the pack. Even just simple things like blasting music in the car on the way to school, or seeing everyone in the front row at one of my dance recitals. Every one of those billion memories reminded me of why I needed to fight to stay. I needed to hold on to these memories and go home. But how?

One last memory plays in my mind. This one definitely wasn’t mine, but it was everyone else's.

My entire family was there, standing in a hospital room, crowded around a bed. My bed. Renesmee was sitting next to me, on my right side near the window, holding her hand to my cheek. Jasper was sitting on my other side holding my hand, while Alice was standing behind him. Esme and Carlisle, Rosalie and Emmett, Edward and Bella, and Jacob were all standing around my bed. Edward spoke first.

“As you’ve realized, Renesmee has been playing as many memories as she could find for you to try and wake you up. So far, it hasn’t helped. I hope this does. We need you to come back, Lauren.”

“Brown bear, come home,” Emmett whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve got to play Cards Against Humanity.”

“Lauren, we found your gifts,” Rosalie said, reaching for the locket around her neck. “I love it. And I promise,” she said, opening the locket to reveal the picture inside. “I didn’t put anything embarrassing in here.”

Esme’s crying was worse than it had ever been. Her body was shaking with sobs, which was very unusual for a vampire. She was turned into Carlisle’s body, who was holding her, but he looked like he was going to collapse himself.

“Princess, please. We need you,” was all he could choke out in a hoarse whisper. My dad was never like this. He was always cool, calm, collected. Right now, he looked like a mess. I had broken my Dad. And that broke my heart.

“Little Red, the pack needs you too.” Jacob said from behind Renesmee. “They’ve all been a mess. Especially Seth and Leah. They haven’t slept or eaten in days. We need you. Fight. Please, please fight.”

“Lauren, I need my best friend. I need help eating all the candy and ice cream at home, help beating the boys at every video game we own, help pulling all nighters and watching every movie for the six millionth time. I can’t do that without you. I can’t do it without my best friend and sister.”

Both Bella and Alice couldn’t talk, they were sobbing too hard. I left Alice speechless for the first time ever.

“I love you too.” That was all Jasper could say. I had never seen him cry. Jasper did not cry. Not once. But now, he was. My big brother, the Major, the strongest of us all, was crying, no, sobbing. And it was all my fault. Slowly, Jasper leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

That kiss was true love. My brother loved me more than anything, and that was what fought the darkness. The feeling of his lips leaving my head were the first thing I could feel. That and his cold hand in mine felt amazing against my burning skin. Now, I could hear the sounds of everyone's sobs in my own ears. I was regaining consciousness! I had fought the darkness and now I could go home. I forced my eyes open and looked at my family, who, other than Alice and Edward, had no idea I was awake. Alice had gasped the moment Jasper had decided to kiss my head, so everyone turned to look at her.

“Jasper” I croaked. Everyone turned their heads to me as fast as they could, disbelief filling their eyes.

“Lauren!”

#twilight #twilight imagine #Cullen Family #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #bella cullen #renesmee cullen #jacob black #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #rosalie cullen #rosalie twilight #alice cullen #Emmett Cullen #twilight imagines

33 notes · View notes

lins-fandom-hub · 4 years

Text

09/01/1998 (1)

Part 1 || Part 2

Here’s part 1 of a 2-part fic that I wrote that commemorates Clara’s Hogwarts friends/peers lost to battle against the forces of evil.

The concept of time was humankind’s greatest enigma. It cared not about what happens in the life of any one person. Like the river in the wood, it flowed, knowing not of the stones overturned or the sediments caught in its current. Once a mark had been made, there was no erasing it; once a phenomenon had come to pass, there was no reverting it to what once was.

Time was supposed to help the dust settle over the ruins. Thoroughly damaged beyond repair, yet shrouded in the remnants of what once transpired, the image of what history left behind would only be made clearer after time had passed. Time was supposed to help the physical cuts heal. The open lacerations seeping blood through the flesh would have scabbed and closed with patches of new skin depending on how deep the wound was. Even as they happened, though, time would never let anyone forget the phenomenon that had ensued. Time didn’t care how anyone healed, grieved, smiled, or cried.

Time certainly didn’t care how anyone lived or died.

Clara closed her fingers over her wand and stood from her chair, empty eyes that once bore tears lingering on the sunny scenery outside her window. All those years ago, she had prayed for a sunny day to greet her on the day she departed home for Hogwarts, and every year, it had always been either cloudy or rainy--she even remembered the stormy day that commenced her third year all too well. A small sigh escaped her lips as she looked at the clock by her writing desk--it was 9:00 am. If she was still a student, she’d be travelling right now in one of the Ministry cars her father borrowed from the Ministry with him to King’s Cross Station, her mind abuzz solely with plans to find Jacob and bring him home. If she was still in China, she’d be drilled through military exercises set by the captain of the Chinese Wizarding Task Force without a single thought of her past. Those days were long gone, though--the past was now behind her. Today was a special day, but not for a good reason. Today, she and what remained of her circle of friends would throw a special celebration in memory of all the friends who had fallen, and all of those who sacrificed their lives to help Harry Potter defeat Voldemort at Hogwarts.

Merlin...the Battle of Hogwarts seemed so long ago. It had taken so long for the dust to settle over the relics, but she couldn’t move past the horror that she had witnessed. Her chest ached as visions began to swim in her mind--the corpses of her friends lying in the rubble, the crack of every spell relentlessly attacking those who still remained standing. She recalled the number of spells she had to deflect with her steel fans from the Task Force when her protective barriers shattered, the triangle of Death Eaters surrounding her at once threatening her to collapse. If she closed her eyes, she could see every misfired curse shattering the stone walls, tossing bodies back as if they were only rag dolls…

The soothing touch of her fiance’s fingers tracing over her arm eased her breathing, but it did nothing to stop the tears pricking at her eyes again.

“What are you thinking about, Clara?” Barnaby asked her quietly, gently wrapping his strong arms around her from behind and holding her close to him. She could only hum as she leaned back into his chest, exhaling quietly as the tears spilled over her cheeks.

“It’s the Battle, is it?”

Clara nodded. “Well...sort of.” She opened her eyes, turning to face her fiance. “There was something Dumbledore told me so long ago, back when we were still sixth years. He said that if there was one thing anyone could count on, it’s death. It comes for everyone in the end. But you know how quickly it took a lot of our friends--Rowan in our sixth year, Cedric the summer before I left for China…”

“I know,” Barnaby murmured, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away. “I know.”

“It’s hard,” Clara whispered. “It’s so hard…”

She buried her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around Barnaby as she tried her hardest not to sob. The terror that first gripped at her when she fought apart from him snaked its way back into her chest, not unlike the cursed ice that spread through the school in her second year. Death took so many people she held dear to her over the years, it was a miracle that she still remained standing. Rowan...Ben...Tonks...Fred...Talbott...heck, she couldn’t even begin to believe that Merula was dead, too. Even Dobby and Cedric, whom she didn’t know very well, felt like kin--and yet they too were brutally murdered long before the ultimate siege.

“What do you think they’ll be doing?” Barnaby wondered, tilting his head slightly. “You know, in the world of the dead.”

Clara winced slightly at the question. “I don’t know,” she mumbled eventually. “Maybe look down upon us like angels would.”

“I know Rowan is. She’s your best friend, after all--what best friend wouldn’t want to shield you from harm?” Barnaby said, slowly rubbing a hand over Clara’s back to calm her down.

“To think that everyone went into this battle not trying to protect me for the vaults this time, but fight against the one all wizardkind feared,” Clara mused. “I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. I just hope that what we invited everyone to do today would be enough to finally find closure and…”

Barnaby nodded as she trailed off, tilting her head up with a hand to look her in the eyes. Her glasses were smudged from the tears now streaming over her face.

“I’m sure they will love it,” Barnaby reassured her softly. “Not just all the ones still alive, but those who passed on. I know I would.”

It’s taken Clara weeks to pull herself together after the battle, and even more after that to seek solace from those who still remain. Only a few days ago did she finally settle the date of their wedding, yet it didn’t feel right to celebrate a day of union without sharing it with all their friends, alive or dead.

Two days to go. After that, our lives might change for the better.

She had to hold it together. Not just for them, but for herself too. Closure would not be given to those still vulnerable to breaking.

“Yeah,” she finally murmured, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I would, too.”

---

There was no bachelor and bachelorette party for this couple--heck, they couldn’t imagine the consequences for the other should a disaster occur while they were apart. Instead, a few weeks ago, Clara had sent her owl, Wagner, out into the world with letters for all their friends and loved ones. Today, everyone who was willing to come would Apparate to their house, and then gather in their vast open backyard in the evening where the ceremony would commence.

“And done,” Barnaby declared as he delicately placed the final cherry on the top of a massive white-iced three-layer cake. A slow grin spread across his face as he looked at his best baking masterpiece--no, it was not their wedding cake, but it looked good enough to be one.

That was when the doorbell rang, and he jumped, almost knocking the cake over.

“I got it!” Clara called, running down the stairs and securing her crimson crystal hair tie around the single braid over her left shoulder. “Just set the parlour up, Barnaby.”

“Will do.” Barnaby nodded and carried the massive cake to the parlour, humming a little tune to himself.

Clara opened the door to reveal Penny and Beatrice now standing at the threshold. Both of them were wearing black dresses that went down to their knees. The plaits that were normally in Penny’s hair were now combed out, her hair now split into two braids down her shoulders. Beatrice’s hair, for the first time since Clara could recall, was held back with a headband, revealing both of her blue eyes cast down with a sad glimmer.

“Clara!” Penny greeted her friend with a hug, which Clara wholeheartedly returned.

“Hey, Penn.”

Time had changed the little girls who became friends in their first year to young adults who had survived more than one war. As they broke the embrace and looked at each other, they both caught the matured gleam now stripped of whatever carefree sparkle once graced their eyes, the tragedies they both withstood in their time at school, the weariness that came with demands that required their individual expertises.

“You hanging in there?” Penny asked Clara quietly. “I know it’s been hard on all of us.”

Clara nodded solemnly. “Trying to. It wasn’t hard when the names in the list of casualties were still unrecognizable, but it’s different now when everyone you knew gave their all to protect the school and the Boy Who Lived. Not to say I regret it--”

“I know what you mean. I’m sure none of them regretted it either,” Penny assured her.

“At least we’re still together,” Clara said with a shrug. “Jacob, little Em and I at least escaped the war unscathed. And you’ve got Beatrice, too.”

Beatrice nodded as she produced another stuffed Puffskein from her pocket--almost similar to the one she gave Clara when they first met--and gave it to her. “Is your sister coming?”

“She should be,” Clara confirmed with a nod. “Do come in, both of you. We have cake and Butterbeer in the parlour, and I think Barnaby should almost be finished with grooming the Puffskeins.”

The second one to arrive, much to Clara’s surprise, was Skye Parkin, her Wigtown Wanderers jersey billowing in the wind as she hopped off her Comet 290 in front of their house.

“Skye!” Clara exclaimed upon her arrival. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, what with training for your upcoming tournaments.”

“This means a lot to you, doesn’t it? I might as well be there for it,” Skye responded shortly, giving Clara a small smile. “Besides, one of our Chasers recently came down with a serious bout of Scrofungulus. We don’t have any backup players to properly play against the Applewood Arrows today.”

“Oh. That’s a bummer. You wish I was there to step up to the plate?” Clara asked, remembering fondly her short tenure as Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“It would be nice. But I figured you need time to...you know,” Skye said uneasily, and Clara nodded in understanding.

Shortly after Skye went in to help herself to some of Barnaby’s cake and chat with Penny, Andre, Murphy, and Orion made their appearance on Clara’s doorstep. Andre’s Pride of Portree jersey flapped in the wind behind him, in the same manner as Skye’s jersey. Murphy’s colourful tie worn for all his Quidditch commentating duties was swapped today with a black bowtie. Orion was also wearing all black from head to toe.

“I told the staff that I wasn’t feeling well,” Murphy explained. “And I’m not! There’s a 95.7% chance that after such a travesty it’s hard to think of the light ahead.”

“But what is light without darkness?” Orion asked. “It’s with light that we have darkness.”

“Or should it be the other way around?” Andre queried, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re doing this, Curse-breaker. In a time like this, I think we all really need it.”

“Thanks, Andre. And I’m happy to see you’re alive and well too, Murphy and Orion,” Clara said, bowing them into her home where they went to the parlour to meet Penny, Beatrice, Skye and Barnaby.

Soon, Chiara, Jae, Diego, and little Em all arrived together, the girls holding onto extravagant bouquets of colourful flowers. Jae was holding tightly onto Chiara’s free hand, balancing a large box of delicacies in his other hand. Diego’s fingers were interlaced with little Em’s, his scarf from his old school days wrapped around little Em’s shoulders to keep her warm.

“Darn it. I miss my hoodie already,” Jae muttered, his teeth chattering slightly.

“Relax, Jae. It’ll only be for today,” Chiara consoled him with a small smile before turning towards Clara. “How are you doing, Clara?”

“Faring as well as I can,” Clara simply said, smiling wanly at the group. “Thanks for coming, guys--really, it means a lot.”

“Anything to get to spend time with you, Clara,” little Em reassured her older sister with a hug. “I would not miss my sister’s wedding for anything in the world.”

Diego nodded in agreement as little Em returned to his side shortly after. “Indeed. How swiftly childhood leaves us as we emerge as veterans from a war well fought and won.”

“I just hope that this celebration would mark the first chapter of genuine happiness for all of us,” Chiara finally piped up. “With all that’s happened, I figured we all need it.”

A little while into the afternoon, Tulip, Liz, and Badeea arrived together, Badeea’s hands still smeared with paint as she brought in a giant portrait of their fallen friends. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, George, and Angelina followed swiftly, George still trying to hold back tears as he held fast to Angelina’s hand; Clara couldn’t blame him. George didn’t just lose a brother in the battle, after all; he lost his twin, his second half who understood him better than anyone.

How quickly everyone’s grown, Clara realized, as she closed the door behind the Weasleys and followed them into the parlour. Glancing around at her friends grabbing drinks and some of Jae’s homemade delicacies or the cake Barnaby made, talking in low voices among themselves like old friends, she could see the hint of sadness in their eyes along with the gleam of maturity that long replaced the carefree, happy spirit they once felt. They fought more than just one battle, leaving them all with more scars than they’d hoped for--yet through their grief, they remained standing strong. They had weathered through so many storms together that they became the storm themselves.

“Is that everyone?” Chiara asked quietly as she sipped from her bottle of Butterbeer, watching the large crowd mill around the parlour and the kitchen. “Or are we still waiting for a few people?”

Clara frowned as she glanced at the clock--it was now five in the afternoon, and there were still a few last stragglers she had yet to see. “I think we have Ismelda and Jacob to wait for,” she eventually answered. “Jacob I know is with my parents, but Ismelda...I haven’t heard from her since the end of the war.”

“Ismelda’s still alive?” Penny asked, raising a brow and glancing at Beatrice.

“What are you looking at me for?” Beatrice inquired, grabbing another piece of cake from the dainty multi-tiered platter on the table. “I haven’t kept tabs on Ismelda either since I graduated from school.”

CRACK!

A sudden Apparition within the house made everyone jump, Beatrice almost dropping her cake in the shock--when the smoke cleared, Clara saw Ismelda and Erika standing in the middle of the parlour, travelling cloaks fastened tight around them. Ismelda quickly drew her arm away from Erika, massaging her upper arm to rid it of the soreness in the potential death grip.

“Did you have to grip onto me that hard?” Ismelda grumbled, shooting Erika a death glare. “And I thought I already told you I didn’t want to go!”

“I had to do what I could to make sure you got here in one piece,” Erika shrugged. “And if you say another word about this gathering being nothing but a waste of time--”

“Fine, fine.” Ismelda shook her head, a groan escaping her mouth. “Anything to save you from using me as your practice dummy.”

“That’s more like it.” Erika gave her a little smirk, her eyes darting about the rest of the group. “So this is what a party for the dead looks like.”

“Not much of a party so much as it is just a time to come together,” Murphy corrected her. “And it’s a good thing Clara’s hosting this for us. I figured we all needed it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this show on the road,” Ismelda finally said. “Is there anything we can do besides just…” She gestured around the room. “Eat cake and drink Butterbeer and mope?”

“Well…” Clara glanced around at the group--it felt a lot like the Circle of Khanna all over again, except this time there was no one else to stand by her for support. The days when Ben and Merula flanked by her were long gone now, both of them now buried in their graves a few feet below. “We prepared a bonfire pit in the backyard, and enough sky lanterns for all of us.”

“Sky lanterns?” Tulip asked, intrigued. “I haven’t seen one of those in so long. They’re part of the ceremony, right?”

“Of course,” Clara nodded. “They’re an integral part, so to say.”

“Nothing’s ever been the same since, well…” Skye glanced awkwardly at the group around her. “I mean, I’m not one to go all mushy but...I can’t imagine all of us losing people we care about so much. And all of you are great people in some way--”

She was suddenly cut off by Penny embracing her in a hug, which Skye returned hesitantly, burying her face into Penny’s shoulder.

“The people who love us never really leave us,” Barnaby piped up then. “I remembered how bad I felt when Rowan died...and then I thought I would lose Clara too when she left for China. But time taught me that they’ll always be here with us no matter where they are. Bright souls will shine like bright stars in the sky, now and forever. I found a lot of comfort in looking at the stars every night.”

These words brought a scarlet dust to Clara’s cheeks, and she smiled at him ruefully as she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. Whether that was a vow intended for their wedding or not, she would never know, but it was enough for her to make her melt on the spot.

“You’re right,” Bill nodded thoughtfully at Barnaby’s words, taking Fleur’s hand and squeezing it tight. “The stars provide comfort for those who need it most. It’s really in the darkness where we can find the light.”

At this, Andre gave Orion a pointed look, and Orion just shrugged it off, nodding at Bill.

“I suppose there’s really no use in waiting any longer,” Clara eventually said--the sun was just beginning to set, and the group was getting much too large to accommodate indoors. “Let’s all head outside to the backyard. Barnaby, can you lead them? I have...something to collect from upstairs.”

Barnaby nodded at his fiancee, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Of course, my unicorn.” He then motioned to the rest of the group to follow him. “Come on outside, everyone.”

As everyone filed out, Clara headed towards the stairs and began to ascend two steps a time--the moment she reached the landing she wasted no time in heading to her bedroom and opening the door to her closet. Peering into the mass of fabrics, her eyes landed at the bottom of the cabinet, where a single dagger laid in its black sheath lined with golden dragons, laced through the leather belt she had to wear in her days at the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.

To most, it seemed like a simple ornate dagger, most likely an article of decorum worn by royals in important ceremonies. With a polished ruby pommel at the end of a leather grip hilt, and a few engravings on the blade, it looked insignificant, almost ordinary. But to those who served in the task force it meant so much more--it was a weapon she had used in the fight against the Japanese dark wizards on more than one occasion. Where magic failed, the dagger had helped her lay many a blow on those too fast to hit with a spell, those who resisted the effects of magic in ways she would never know. She fought along those who had also given their life for the cause, fought with the same blade she held now--never a day went by when she didn’t think of them. Some survived, some died, and all for a united cause.

She honoured so many of the unknown dead with this knife strapped to her side. It only seemed fitting that she did it now, too.

“Clara? You coming?”

Clara turned around just as she looped the belt around her waist--standing at the doorway to her room was her little sister, head tilted in intrigue and eyes shining in concern.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Clara adjusted the belt over her clothes and walked over to little Em. “I was just...getting this dagger. Custom to wear it for funerals when I was working with the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.”

“Ah.” Little Em nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry, I should have knocked.”

“No need to apologize.”

It had been much too long since Clara last saw her little sister, her little Em--four months since the end of the Battle where they fought together but not at each other’s side, never getting to see each other after the dust had settled over the ruins and the wounds had all but healed in their natural time. What once were two young children who bonded in a sole promise to protect each other within the walls of Hogwarts were now two women who had no idea how to shield each other from the other side of the world. It was only a miracle that they hadn’t lost the other to the perils of the world turned upside down by none other than Voldemort himself. Moments like these between two sisters bound by blood were far and few in between since then.

“I’ve missed you so much, Clara,” little Em finally admitted. “I was worried about Jacob in the fight but when I heard you were there at Hogwarts too…”

“I thought I’d never see you again, either. I wasn’t sure if I was able to make it out of the war alive,” Clara mumbled. “How, though?”

“Stuck close with Diego. It helps to have a strong dueller at your side,” little Em said. “And you?”

“I was with Tonks at first, but when she was defeated I had to hold my own,” Clara replied. “It wasn’t easy to feel that drive to fight after seeing a casualty right in front of your eyes, but I’ve had enough practice.”

“You shouldn’t have to keep suffering, Clara. I know why you joined the task force in China, but...promise me that at the end of all of this you’ll find some peace and happiness,” little Em pleaded. “All your life you’ve been fighting, and I understand it was for a cause. Just...I don’t want you to break under all the pressure. You have so many people who worry about you, and it would break my heart to find that you’ll never find happiness again at the end of the day.”

“Em.” Clara turned to face her sister now, a small smile on her face. “All I want is to make you happy, to fight for your happiness and safety every day. Knowing that you’re here and you’re happy and safe is enough for me to feel happy and safe.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Little Em smiled, a brief second of relief, before taking her sister’s hand and leading her out of her room. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

15 notes · View notes

theshatteredrose · 3 years

Text

Relic Keepers: Awakening of the Red Lily (Chapter 22) - Original Novel

AN: Sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FictionPress

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 22:

The Red Lily looked just how Eishirou remembered it; crystals a vivid red, the gold stainless and flawless. It was the splitting image of what he had seen from the underground mosaic and the recordings he had viewed.

Yet, he had seen it adorn to a crown in a recording.

He remembered that specifically because in the recording, it sat upon an altar, surrounded by flowers and greenery. Obviously worshiped or held in high regard to some compacity. There was definitely a sense of admiration and respect toward the relic.

The Red Lily before him was only that of the centrepiece. Nowhere during his visual inspection of the piece did he find any markings indicating that it had once been a part to another piece. Though, it was highly likely that it was lost to time. Or it was removed at some point.

It didn’t really matter. He was simply curious.

He wanted to learn more of the Red Lily itself. He wanted to hear that voice again. The one that spoke to him in the tower. The one that called him something. Radiant Soul.

But the relic remained silent. There was mana present. He could sense as much. However, for whatever reason, he couldn’t access it.

Eishirou uttered a disappointed sigh as he opened his eyes and lowered his hands. The Red Lily sat on a study pedestal in the centre of the research centre. A clear plastic frame held the relic upright, allowing for the best visual presentation.

“Anything?” Jacob asked from the observation deck.

“No, nothing,” Eishirou replied as he pressed the switch to encase the Red Lily in light, clear glass to ensure its safety.

“Maybe you’re still enduring the aftereffects of mana depletion?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself,” Jacob tried to comfort. “The Red Lily is here now. We can take our time.”

Eishirou still couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “I guess.”

Though, that suggestion did sound reasonable. If he was, maybe the relic was, too? Maybe it just needed a bit of time itself to recharge. If that was the case, then they should place it in a mana enrich environment.

He quickly voiced his thoughts to Jacob.

“Hmm, that sounds reasonable. I’ll arrange for it to be placed in a mana chamber after lunch. Until then, we have other subjects to consider.”

Eishirou took the stairs to the observation deck and made his way to his desk. Placing his bag to the floor next to his chair, he sat down and pulled out his tablet. Jacob was absolutely right when he said they had other things to consider.

“I’m curious about that stained glass in the tower,” Eishirou revealed as he flipped through the photos he had taken of said mosaic. “Though, all I have to work with is snapshots.”

“Something that will stay that way for a while,” Jacob was quick to point out.

“Yeah.”

From the protectiveness in Jacob’s voice, Eishirou was certain that even if there weren’t two missing teams of Elites, he wasn’t to be heading back there any time soon. Not that he could find fault in Jacob’s caution and protectiveness.

“Those humanoid ShadowDwellers were unlike the others on the island,” Eishirou murmured as he flipped to the photo of the cave painting.

“Not much is known about ShadowDwellers in general,” Jacob explained as he moved to his own cluttered desk and sat down. “But there is one consensus that is agreed upon; they're a product of their environment. ShadowDwellers are created from mana themselves. So, it makes sense if an ancient tribe of humans believed in mythical creatures than those memories could be retained in the environment around them, thus giving ShadowDwellers an intention and form to bring to the physical realm.”

Eishirou lifted his gaze from his tablet to look over at Jacob. “Residual memories and energies?”

“Right.”

“So, those humanoid ShadowDwellers have the potential to be the residual energy of the humans that once lived there?”

“Possibly.”

“Then it’s safe to assume that those cave paintings I've seen so far are an indication to the types of ShadowDwellers that inhabit Flutterlight Forest,” Eishirou mused as he flipped more of his photos and stopped at the first one he took. “Which means...”

“Which means?”

Eishirou grimaced. “There's a giant spider ShadowDweller somewhere on that island…”

Jacob was silent for a moment before sarcastically stating; “Sounds exciting.”

“I rather not,” Eishirou muttered as he flipped past the photo and tried to push aside the vison of an enormous spider lurking somewhere within Flutterlight Forest. Worst still, towering over the trees of Flutterlight Forest.

A-at least it couldn’t sneak up on them, right?

…Those humanoid ShadowDwellers did, though. Changing their shape and size. Acting more like a liquid than a solid.

“Mana can manifest in a multitude of ways, huh?”

“That’s right,” Jacob quickly returned as he leaned back in his chair and rested his feet casually upon his desk. “There’s mana in literally everything. And it can take the form of anything. It all depends on intent.”

Intent…

Intention manifesting into a physical presence. Was that all that there was to it?

“Do you think that if an intention is strong enough, it could lead to a consciousness?”

That question caused Jacob to fall silent for a moment or two. He appeared genuinely surprised by the question before quickly falling into thought. “There is still much we don’t understand about mana, either,” he admitted. “That is a good question. Anything is possible.”

Jacob leaned back into his chair and rested his elbow on the armrest. “Something on your mind?” he asked as he rested his chin in his palm.

Eishirou didn’t answer immediately. He glanced down at his tablet. The photo of the underground mosaic on the screen. “The Red Lily appeared just when it was needed. Was it drawn because of desperation? Or because of something else?”

Jacob remained silent as Eishirou continued to muse aloud.

“Could I have unwittingly called upon it?”

He glanced over the observation deck toward the jewelled relic. It seemed to glint and sparkle under the lighting. Almost as if in response to him.

“But, if I did, why can’t I now? Am I missing something?”

“It’s possible that the relic will only react under certain circumstances,” Jacob interjected. “And you met those circumstances within the tower. If that is the case, I’d rather not have you in a situation like that again.”

No, he didn’t want to put others through that, either.

“Which means we’re unlikely to know the true power of the Red Lily,” Eishirou added.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean we can’t research the myth and legend behind it,” Jacob was swift to remind him. “If everything was known at the beginning, then it wouldn’t be as much fun, would it?”

Eishirou couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, you’re right. The Red Lily will just have to keep its secrets for now.”

No point in getting frustrated. He should count himself lucky that the relic had returned with him. It was there. Safely kept within the museum. It was close by. He didn’t need to trek all the way back to Flutterlight Forest to find it.

“There’s someone I think you should speak with,” Jacob suddenly announced.

Eishirou tilted his head to the side. “Who?”

“Professor Jairus. He specialises in mediation and the manifestation of mana. He may be able to help you find a way to link with the Red Lily once more. Under control conditions and away from danger.”

“You think that’s possible?” Eishirou asked as he sat up straight in his chair.

“Anything is possible at this point,” Jacob replied as he leaned forward in his chair to shuffle through the files and documents covering his desk. “At the very least, we can learn whether or not this avenue is worth the effort. What do you say?”

“Sure, I’ll give it a try.” Eishirou didn’t see the harm in trying. If nothing else, it might help him with his medical and restoration training.

“Let me speak with him first before we make any concrete plans, hm?”

That was reasonable. He probably needed to fill in some information to Professor Jairus before any real training could start.

Jacob leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk. He then unexpectedly rested his chin in the palms as he focused his attention completely on Eishiou. “By the way; you and Zayne seem close.”

There was some kind of insinuation within Jacob’s voice. It brought a blush to Eishirou’s cheeks immediately. “Ah, well, yeah?”

Jacob continued to stare at him for the long, most awkward second. “Love at first sight, huh?”

Eishirou practically choked on a sharp intake of air.

“Ah, to be young and in love,” Jacob said, having the audacity to find amusement out of his reaction.

“Th-that’s not it!”

“Oh? Well, do tell!”

Eishirou’s face burned and his blood pumped in his ears from sheer embarrassment. He was aware that Jacob was just teasing him. Zayne was handsome and cute in a way. But he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for him.

Sure, he felt safe with him. And liked his company. And knew that he could rely on him. And…

Gah!

“I’m not having this conversation with you!” Eishirou insisted most firmly as he took to his feet and quickly gathered his stuff.

“Come now, don’t be a bore!” Jacob laughed. “Give me details!”

“I’m leaving now!”

Jacob’s laughter followed him out of the research labs, and he quickly made his way through the rest of the museum.

Even if he did have a crush on Zayne, he didn’t want to discuss it with Jacob. He was like a father figure to him. And it would be downright embarrassing to talk about those kinds of things. Even in jest.

Although, he couldn’t really blame Jacob for wanting to tease him like that. Or for making an observation. He had only known Zayne for a few days. A week, probably. But they had become really close. To say that they developed some kind of a bond wouldn’t be a wild accusation to make.

But he…couldn’t be in love with the guy, right? He was an Elite, after all…

“Eishirou, there you are!”

The sound of a familiar voice calling his name, pulled Eishirou from his thoughts. He immediately stopped in his tracks and lifted his head up to look down the path he was on.

Oh, it was Professor Tyrone.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Irwin stated as he hurried over to him and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I heard everything that happened. I cannot believe you were in such a dangerous situation.”

“O-oh, yeah, it was pretty intense,” was all Eishirou could manage in response. He honestly wasn’t all that familiar with Irwin looking as serious as he was. He had always appeared carefree and jovial.

He…must have been really worried.

“What was that Elite team doing?” Irwin continued with a shake of his head. “They were meant to protect you.”

“They did!” Eishirou immediately instead. But he fell silent a second later and winced. “It just…got out of hand.”

Bit of an understatement, but the sentiment was fair.

Irwin, however, didn’t feel the same. “Out of everyone there, you were the one who ended up in the infirmary. Eishirou, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

While Eishirou understood the concern and worry, he still wanted to protest. “We were ambushed. They couldn’t have predicted that. Besides, I may have awoken up in the infirmary, but I wasn’t injured. And I got out, right? So, they were the ones who were responsible. They did what they were supposed to.”

“Not good enough,” Irwin returned swiftly as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “Our precious little Eishirou must be protected at all costs.”

Eishirou blinked before a small smile made its way to his lips. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious,” Irwin insisted, somewhat childishly with a pout, prompting a small chuckle from Eishirou. He soon righted himself and gave him a sincere look. “But I’m glad you’re alright. I’ve been sick with worry ever since I got that communication from Jacob.”

“That’s right, you were conducting your own expedition, huh?”

“Yes, but not to Flutterlight Forest,” Irwin replied with a nod. “There was a smaller island. More like a swamp located north of the island.”

Eishirou immediately perked up in interest. “What? What’s it like? Anything interesting?”

“Now, now,” Irwin returned with a slightly chiding tone. Going as far as to poke Eishirou in the middle of his forehead. “I’m still processing data. Be patient. With things the way they are with Flutterlight Forest, and if you’re patient, you might be able to visit there, too.”

“Really?”

He really hoped he could. Get back out into the field and find some more intriguing discoveries. Maybe the small island held some clue to the Red Lily, too. North of Flutterlight Forest, he believed that was the direction the stain glassed within the lighthouse was positioned.

“By the way, Eishirou?”

“Yeah?”

“I heard about the relic, too.” Irwin unexpectedly clamped a hand on his shoulder again. “And, perhaps it would be best that no one else does.”

Eishirou blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Through you and the relic, you granted an elite some impressive skills. Skills to turn the tide of battle. To grant him near invincibility.” He squeezed Eishirou’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m just worried that other Elites might want the same. I’m just worried that they might try to harm you to get what they want.”

Was…was that really a possibility? Would an Elite really do that?

“I…wasn’t going to tell anyone, anyway,” Eishirou muttered.

Irwin gave him a comforting smile. “I’m sure you weren’t. I’m just being protective. I think we all are.” A broad grin suddenly made its way to his lips and he reached out with a hand to ruffle Eishirou’s hair. “After all, you’re our favourite little researcher!”

“H-hey!” Eishirou stuttered in embarrassed and lightly swatted at Irwin’s hand.

“Take is easy, yeah?” Irwin continued as he dropped his hand to his side and watched in mild amusement as Eishirou patted down his hair. “Don’t go putting yourself in dangerous situations like that again.”

“I’ll try not to,” Eishirou reassured as he wrangled control over his brown hair. “But if I do, I trust Zayne to get me out of it. I should get going.”

Just as he said that, his communicator buzzed from his pocket. He immediately reached for it and pulled it out. As he flicked on the screen, a familiar yet surprising name appeared on the screen.

“Ah, it’s Zayne,” Eishirou stated as he turned to regard Irwin briefly. “See you later, Professor Tyrone. I promise to stay out of trouble!”

“Remember to take it easy,” Irwin reminded him before he turned away and headed down the path, waving an arm idly over his shoulder. “And stop calling me professor!”

Eishirou turned his attention back to his communicator and answered it. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Zayne’s image returned. “You busy?”

“No, not really,” Eishirou replied as he idly wandered along the path that would take him back into the main hub of the academy. “Are you done with training?”

“Not yet. Listen, can you do me a favour?”

Eishirou blinked. “What is it?”

“I left my spare mana cartridge in our room. Can you bring it to me?”

Eishirou stopped mid-step and frowned. “Ah, I can. But I don’t think I can enter the Elite Training Centre.”

He couldn’t really imagine them letting a Passive just wander in like that. Though, to be fair, he never tried. He just assumed that he couldn’t go. And in all honesty, he never had a reason to visit the training centre.

“You’ll be fine,” Zayne immediately replied, insistent yet reassuring. “I wouldn’t ask if I thought you would be hassled. Just enter through the bleachers. I’ll see you.”

Well, Eishirou couldn’t deny the request after that. Even if he was still hesitant. “Ah, ok.”

“Thanks,” Zayne could be seen grinning on screen. “Appreciate it!”

“See you soon, I guess,” Eishirou replied before he closed the call. He stared at the handheld device for a moment before he shook his head.

Well…looked like he was going to see the inside of the Elite Training Centre.

#writblr #original fiction #sci-fi fantasy #young adult #Mystery/Suspense #adventure #relic keepers: awakening of the red lily

2 notes · View notes

missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 2 Part 10- New Revelations

Well, my friends this is it.

Year 2 is in the books. And after year 3 (due to JC's milking of this game for all its worth) the years will get steadily longer and the chapters more varied. But for now, we've finished two years and I really hope you guys liked it. As always, comment and review! Send a kudos!

I already have a head start on Year 3 so be on the lookout for it within the month. Until then, stay frosty!

Year 2 Part 10. New Revelations

For the span of about twenty four hours, David almost thought he got away with breaking into a cursed vault without any higher authority discovering so. Hogwarts was still settling down from the ice attack, which thankfully had abated. As he suspected, the ice immediately disappeared upon the defeat of the Ice Knight and their entry of the vault. Dumbledore had also returned, and his presence immediately restored order. Where he had been, however, remained the subject of speculation.

The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been postponed to the following weekend which meant that the primary focus for the student body was exams, much to their chagrin. For himself, David wasn’t looking forward to the Transfiguration test as he could barely look Professor McGonagall in the eye. He wondered whether or not she knew about their little excursion into the vault. The answer to that question came rather quickly.

He and Rowan were walking back from Charms the following Monday when his head of house stood right in front of the fat lady, eyeing them with an extremely stern gaze. It certainly did not give the warm and fuzzies, a sentiment echoed by his best friend.

“I don’t like that look,” Rowan whispered.

“Yeah, you don’t say.”

“David Grant,” McGonagall called out to him in her usual brisk tone. “Last weekend was not the first time cursed ice has appeared at Hogwarts, it is also not the first time it has suddenly disappeared. Can you explain this?”

The question was a rhetorical exercise. He resisted the urge not to gulp as it was abundantly clear what she was getting at. When he didn’t answer she continued.

“Up to your common room Mr. Khanna, I need to speak with Mr. Grant, alone.”

The Indian lad didn’t have to be told twice, uttering the password and scurrying up the stairs faster than a jackrabbit, as McGonagall continued.

“Like the previous instance, it seems to have appeared when someone tampered with a Cursed Vault, and disappeared when the door was opened. I’m sure you can guess who was responsible for opening the door the last time.”

“Jacob,” David breathed out.

“Precisely. We don’t yet understand how the vault reappeared, or who first tampered with it this time. Truth be told, there is still much we don’t understand about the Cursed Vaults, but I’m not going to bother to ask if you were responsible for what occurred last weekend.”

He wanted to make a joke, but he knew better than to do that in front of a woman such as Professor McGonagall. Therefore, he stayed silent.

“You are the only student who has shown the interest, recklessness, and talent to do such a thing.”

You’re forgetting Merula Snyde, David thought to himself. She fits all three of those categories…except for talent maybe. Hehe

“We know that you, Mr. Weasley, and Ms. Haywood were all involved in this. Therefore I will be taking one hundred points from Gryffindor. Mr. Weasley in particular was adamant of your innocence which was noble of him…”

“He had nothing to do with it,” David quickly interjected. He could take losing house points, but it was common knowledge that Bill also desired to be a prefect the following semester when he entered his fifth year. If he had to take the blame for all of it, he would. “Penny didn’t either.”

A strange look of respect appeared on Professor McGonagall’s face, temporarily softening her strict stance.

“It is good to see such strong bonds between you and your friends, Mr. Grant. Miss Haywood’s punishment is not up to me. But rest assured that Mr. Weasley’s prospects of becoming prefect have not been damaged by this incident.”

David gave an inward sigh of relief. He would not have been happy with himself had his actions jeopardized Bill’s higher goals.

“But that is not the end of the matter for you,” his head of house continued to admonish. “You will speak to Professor Dumbledore about this matter. He may not be so forgiving.”

Resisting the urge to hang his head in defeat, all David could do was utter a solemn, “Yes, Professor,” and begin to make his way towards the Headmaster’s office.

“Mr. Grant? You may want the password. It is ‘lemon drop.’”

They always did say he was a bit mad, he commented on the password being named after a muggle sweet. But it made no difference. Albus Dumbledore was one of the most, if not the most powerful wizard in the world; a man who held the power of his schooling in the palm of his hand.

It was not a comforting thought, but either way he had to face the music.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered to himself.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Upon saying the password, the gargoyle jumped aside revealing a spiral staircase which led to the confines of Dumbledore’s office. When he reached the top, David was immediately struck by how vast and intricate the place was. It was like no other room in Hogwarts he’d ever seen. To describe it took a lot of words that weren’t coming to him at the moment.

There were many elaborate and intricate looking instruments placed unevenly around the shelves and tables that adorned the room. Some looked vaguely familiar to David while others defied comprehension. Surrounding the vast semi circular space were also legions of portraits, some of which looked as though they belonged in the Middle Ages while others were more modern. Up above on a railing was a giant blue sphere that looked like a globe and an attached telescope for the purpose of astronomy. And then of course, there was the center of the room which housed the desk of the Headmaster himself, who was dressed in rich, purple robes. Perched above him was also a strange, red and gold bird of unknown origin.

Talk about an impressive setup, David thought to himself as he approached the centenarian, who was currently writing a letter of some sort.

“Professor?”

“I will be with you in a moment, David,” came Dumbledore’s light response, though he did not look up from his current task. “I’m sure you can understand why I have pressing matters to address…”

I know, because of me

“…in the meantime, please feel free to look around as I finish this last task.”

David did so, staring at some of the metal instruments but having enough sense not to touch them as he did not want to break anything. However, he did bend down and look at one of the most peculiar of all: a gigantic bowl with a shiny, silvery substance on the inside. It practically hypnotized him and as he peered closer he swore he could see images floating through the silvery liquid, some of which seemed familiar…

“Any closer and you’ll be in more trouble than you already are, brat,” a snide voice called out from above.

David snapped out of his trance and looked up to see one of the portraits sneering down at him, a thin, bearded man with a pointed hat topped with silver, green robes. He disliked the portrait immediately.

“Oh yeah? Who the hell are you?”

“Phineas Nigellus Black, Headmaster of Hogwarts from 1892 to 1925. And I must note your distinct lack of manners, young man. Were this my day, I could have you physically whipped for such disrespect.”

David narrowed his eyes and replied in a bored tone.

“Yeah well that’s why I’m alive and you’re six feet under, you git.”

“Insolent-”

“That is enough Phineas,” the firm voice of Albus Dumbledore interjected, coming over to the scene. “Though David I must ask you to step back from the pensieve, as entering it would cause you to see things I do not feel are appropriate.”

“A pensieve,” he repeated, obliging the elderly man. “I’ve heard of those but never seen one in person.”

“You may find that they are useful for old fools such as myself, who have far too many memories and enjoy indulging in the past when useful to the present moment,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. “But for a young man as you are, I doubt they would serve much purpose.”

“There are some things I’d like to forget…others I’d like to remember more clearly.”

“A unique observation for someone your age, however, we both know that is not the reason for your presence here today.”

They had come to it at last, and David supposed there wasn’t any use in putting it off much longer.

“It’s not. What was that you were writing, though?”

A noise of disapproval could be heard from Phineas, but Dumbledore ignored it.

“Questions. Questions that I hope will finally provide answers.”

The answer was vague, but David did not press the matter, and began using a more formal tone of voice.

“Professor McGonagall said you wanted to see me, sir?”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore replied, placing an arm around his shoulder and leading him away from the pensieve. “It would appear you discovered the source of the mysterious cursed ice. You revealed a vanished staircase using advanced transfiguration beyond your year, explored long forgotten corridors of this school and broke an ancient curse on a vault that many refused to believe existed despite overwhelming evidence.”

So he did know everything. There was no point in denying it then. If nothing else, he had to explain to the Headmaster the reasons for his actions even if it was an exercise in futility.

“I’m sorry I entered the vault without telling anyone, Professor. But there was no time. The ice was spreading everywhere, and I was the only one who knew where the vault was located. I had to do something before the entire school froze over. People were trapped.”

Dumbledore’s eyes peered deep into him, however, as if waiting for him to reveal the full truth he was not telling.

“I’ve heard my brother’s voice both outside and inside the vault, sir. I saw visions of the ice and more.”

“Visions like the one you just described are very rare indeed,” Dumbledore explained to him, placing his hands directly underneath his chin. “You might ask yourself whether what you perceived is something else entirely.”

“I’m not sure what to say, sir,” David admitted. “To be honest, this whole experience my first two years has been…a lot.”

“Quite understandable, especially with the recent adventures and a history such as yours. Is there anything you can say for yourself in the meantime?”

On the surface, Dumbledore’s words suggested punishment and explanation but knowing the Headmaster by now it was also an invitation to ask more than what could be expected from a normal authority figure. That being said, there were so many thoughts spinning inside his head he barely knew where to begin.

“Sir, I promise I didn’t purposefully try to subvert your authority or anyone else’s. I didn’t go looking for this vault at first, it’s almost as if it found me. There’s so much I still don’t understand. I asked you last year what the vaults were, but this year raised so many more questions. Why do they exist in the first place? What is their purpose? And why do I keep hearing my brother’s voice? Am I mad?”

A regretful, almost sad look passed on the Headmaster’s face, as though he were empathetic to the young Gryffindor’s plight but unsure on just how much to reveal.

“I believe you, David. However, as to your questions I’m afraid my knowledge is still barely beyond yours. Why these vaults exist within the Institution of Hogwarts or what their true purpose is, I do not know. I do have theories, but that sort of speculation is too dangerous and implausible to indulge until we know the truth. Regarding your brother, I have a much more concrete theory, but I cannot confirm it until I have further information.

“What I can say is this: Jacob Grant was an extraordinarily perceptive person and had a sixth sense about most things. The connections between family members, magical or not, are still active and real. Far from being mad, I believe that your hearing his voice suggests he is very much alive, both figuratively and literally.”

Dumbledore stood up and looked towards the window.

“As for the vaults, I’ve been attempting to locate someone who may have the answers. But for now, I am awarding you one hundred house points for your heroism in breaking the curse and once again ridding Hogwarts of the cursed ice.”

Hardly daring to believe he was being rewarded a second time, David had to keep his eyes from popping out of his sockets.

“One hundred house points?!” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “Thank you, Professor.”

There was still twinkling in the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, but his voice gave off a sternness as well.

“Thank me by leaving the search for your brother and the remaining cursed vaults to me. We will talk at the end of your third year, and I would like to discuss something besides curses and your frequent involvement in these vaults.”

David nodded emphatically (it was amazing how the power of this man could corral him into behaving like an angel) though in his heart he wondered if truly would be able to heed the Headmaster’s warning. As he stated before, trouble at Hogwarts always seemed to find him, not the other way around.

“Now then, I believe you have exams to study for and a Quidditch match to attend,” Dumbledore beamed underneath his thick, white beard. “I must say, I do hope the contest is much more even than it was last year. I’ve heard wonderful things about young Charlie Weasley on a broomstick.”

For his part, David Grant could only grin widely.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The end of the 1985-86 school year brought on a bevy of good news and celebration for David and the rest of the Gryffindors.

For starters, the greatest Gryffindor Quidditch Team in a decade pulled the hat trick, defeating Ravenclaw 550-460 in a high powered shootout that went on four hours and featured over eight lead changes. The Bronze Eagles had pulled ahead by sixty points when Charlie Weasley, in his greatest feat yet, swooped in and caught the snitch right underneath beater Erika Rath’s left foot just before she connected with a bludger. The celebration that night in the Gryffindor common room was so enormous and so merry that even Professor McGonagall didn’t bother to stop it. Her joy of winning the cup, though subdued, was just as great as anyone else that day (including Blishwick and McLaggen, who ended up passed out in a tide of alcoholic, yellow vomit).

The victory also allowed Gryffindor to edge out the Slytherins for the House Cup, which was also the catalyst for another wild party (though this one McGonagall later put a stop to). On top of that, David found out that his marks had indeed been able to surpass the previous year’s in most subjects with the exception of Charms, a subject that had always been up and down for him. But overall, he figured his parents would be pleased with his academic effort this year.

The cherry on top of all these positive moments came on the second to last day of Hogwarts. The seventh years were already preparing for graduation while the rest of the school packed their things and enjoyed the free time they had in the sun. That morning, however, as the last day of mail came in. It was a normally sparse load- very few owls swooped in but to David’s surprise he received a thick, white letter with no return address, an oddity to say the least.

“Check this out,” he said to Rowan as he passed the letter to him while eating his cornflakes.

“No return address. Maybe it’s from an admirer of some sort.”

“Wouldn’t there be something to indicate that?”

“I don’t think you should open it,” Ben said nervously, setting down his toast. “If you don’t know who it’s from it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Come on, Ben,” Rowan laughed. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Could be your parents sending you a surprise gift for your birthday.”

David narrowed his eyes at the letter.

“Rowan, my birthday was almost six months ago.”

“And?”

“And ....” a cocky, monotone voice interjected. “For once, I think the scaredy cat is right. I know a laced parcel when I see one.”

Jae Kim swooped in and snatched the letter before anyone did anything else.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later, Khanna trust me. You do not want to open this.”

David knew that with Jae it was usually best not to ask anything further of him but his curiosity was stronger this time around.

“How can you tell?”

“I’ve smuggled in contraband hundreds of times,” Jae responded, dangling the letter from his thumb and index finger as though it were a dead rodent. He gave it a small sniff. “I also can tell when someone is trying to send an anonymous prank. The most common of which is undiluted bubotuber pus. And this thing reeks of petrol.”

“But that’s crazy. Who would want to send David a laced letter?”

David titled his head slightly sideways and was able to get a look at the Slytherin table. A group of the younger ones were huddling around, looking in his direction as though waiting for some reaction. At the center of that group was none other than Merula Snyde, who was smirking as though she had won a lifetime supply of chocolate frogs.

“Methinks a certain Slytherin girl is seeking to do you in,” Bill chuckled as he took a seat next to them.

“Then I guess it’s only fair that I return the favor,” David said with a sly grin. “Bill, if you need to excuse yourself in order to keep your chances of being prefect, I understand.”

“What’s that now? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the eldest Weasley said with a wink.

David grinned and turned back to his second year house mates.

“Ben, charm this to fly over back to the Slytherin table. Rowan, tell me when they’re not looking. Jae, can you make this explode on impact?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

A few spells and a flick of Ben’s wand later, a white envelope airplane soared its way towards Merula Snyde and her gang of Slytherins.

“Hey Merula!” David called out.

“What?!” she snarled, unaware of what was about to happen.

“Catch.”

The paper airplane took a nosedive and landed directly in front of her with a mighty *thud of an explosion as green and yellow smoke filled the air, causing her whole posse to cough and cover their faces and mouths. It didn’t take long for painful sores and boils to start dotting all over their skin. Positively furious but with nowhere left to go except Madam Pomfrey, the Slytherin girl and the rest of her mates took off running but not before Merula called out one last time.

“I HATE you, Grant!”

The Gryffindors laughed at their misfortune, enjoying the spectacular backfiring of the attempted sabotage.

“Will you look at that, she really does care,” Bill teased, giving him an elbow.

David snorted, flipping more bacon into his mouth.

“Don’t you start.”

“I’m with David,” Rowan chuckled. “Breaking the curse on that vault is going to make Merula crosser than ever. She’s probably coming up with a scheme as we speak.”

“Yeah, well she’ll have to clean the bubotuber pus from her hands first.”

More laughter ensued.

It truly was a good day to be alive.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The train ride home was uneventful as David, Rowan, Ben, Jae, Charlie, and Bill swapped chocolate frog cards and played several rounds of exploding snap. In his second year of experience, it always seemed to David that the train ride home was always shorter than the trip to Hogwarts. He wondered if there was a reason for the inconsistency in that perception of time. Either way, it was far more difficult this year saying goodbye.

“Have a good summer, mate,” Rowan beamed at him. “You’ll have to write me this time around.”

“Me too,” Ben pipped up. “I…uh, don’t have an owl but my parents are starting to learn more about how the magical world works. I’m sure I could persuade them.”

“You know I’ll be in touch as best I can,” he assured them both.

“At some point we need to have you round for tea at the Burrow,” Bill said, clapping on the back. “Charlie’s already told mum all about you and she’s talking of knitting you a sweater for next Christmas. Hell, the twins already think you’re a celebrity.”

Charlie rolled his eyes as he unloaded the last of things off the train.

“Gee, Bill, make our family seem loonier than they already are, why don’t you.”

“You’ll get over it, Quidditch hero. She’s going to have a cake ready for you when you get back you know.”

The last to say goodbye was Penny, who gave him a big hug and the most radiant smile he’d ever seen from the blonde.

“I’ll see you next fall, Hero of Hogwarts,” she beamed at him. “I hope you’ll write me.”

“You know I will,” David said with a lopsided grin.

“And I can’t wait to see what kind of adventure we go on in our third year.”

“Maybe we could just have a normal year for once?”

Penny gave his hand one last squeeze.

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be the case. Not with you around, anyway. See ya, David!”

As she turned and ran to a blonde woman that looked like her mother, David did the same. Saying the last of his farewells to his friends and scouring the platform for his parents. They wouldn’t be hard to find, even among this crowd.

When he did, however, the reaction wasn’t at all what he expected. Dressed adequately in muggle clothing (a suit for his dad, and a cardigan/sun dress combination for his mom), David saw that their expressions were grim and not at all pleased. His mom, a blonde woman with blue eyes and a height of about 5’5 was giving him a stare only a mother could give her son. His father, who resembled him in looks and hair color, was less severe in his expression but underneath that neutral exterior was also a man who probably was equally as upset as his mother. Though they had different ways of expressing it, David knew whatever was going on wasn’t good.

“Err…hi, guys,” he tried to greet cheerfully, bringing up his luggage from the rear. “Happy summer?”

“David John Grant,” his mother stated.

His full name. Not a good sign.

“Come along. We need to have a very long talk.”

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fanfiction #writing #david grant #merula snyde #penny haywood #bill weasley #charlie weasley #rowan khanna #ben copper #jae kim #minerva mcgonagall #albus dumbledore #parents #gryffindor #quidditch #erika rath

14 notes · View notes

crown-of-briars · 4 years

Text

Peace Keeper | John Seed x Female Deputy

Chpt 1

“Deputy Winters; we've got another call concerning Edens Gate.” Sheriff Whitehorse tosses a file down on the deputies desk with a sigh. “Mrs. Sanders says she's concerned about her boy; claims he started showing interest in the cult before going missing last Thursday.”

Avery raises a brow, taking the file and opening it to scan the contents. “Last Thursday? It's already Wednesday. She waited almost a week to call it in?”

Shrugging his shoulders Whitehorse brings a cup of coffee to his lips. “This isn't the first time her boy has wondered off for a few days, she was probably expecting him to show up again sooner or later.” A momentary silence fell. “He's been sighted at their compound. Figured placing you on this would be the best decision since you're the only one here who's managed to stay neutral on the matter of Edens Gate. Putting Hudson or Pratt on the case would undoubtedly end in conflict; we can't risk that.”

“And what about you? I know you've got your reservations on the matter but you're more than capable of keeping your wits about you.” For the last few months anytime a call came in concerning the project she would always be assigned the job. It normally wouldn't be an issue except the residence of Hope County were whispering about her being an Edens Gate sympathizer because she tried to keep peace between the project and Hope County, tried to resolve things in a civil manor, talking things through instead of going in throwing accusations and harsh words around.

“Being the Sheriff Edens Gate doesn't take kindly to me, Deputy. I have no grounds with them where you... well, the project doesn't seem to have any qualms with you.” Whitehorse wasn't wrong, he was the face of the local police, the face of the people who showed an obvious disdain for their cause. “You best get moving, Winters. You know how inpatient Mrs. Sanders can be.”

With a sigh Avery rises from her seat and throws on her jacket before grabbing her keys from the desk. “She won't be all too happy I'm the one at her door, Sheriff.”

“I wouldn't be sending you out if I didn't think you could handle it, Avery.”

Deputy Winters headed out, climbing into her tan and white bronco which proudly displayed 'Hope County Sheriffs Department' on its side. Within 20 minutes she was in the heart of Holland Valley, standing on Mrs. Sanders porch. As soon as she had knocked on the door it flung open, a distressed older woman standing before her. Her expression faltering as she saw Avery, wrinkling her nose.

“Of course they sent you.” The woman exclaimed as she threw her hands up. “Can't even mutter the words Edens Gate to the police without you showin' up!” Leaving the door open she shuffles deeper into her house.

Winters' purses her lips as she takes a step inside. “Well like it or not, I'm here. Now why don't you tell me what's goin' on.”

The Deputy proceeded to take a seat on the woman's couch, listening and taking notes as Mrs. Sanders broke it all down. Her son Kevin, 18, had been acting 'weird' talking about the project and showing interest in their cause; acquired a copy of The Book Of Joseph which disappeared along with him just shy of a week ago. In the end she just wanted to know if he was okay and perhaps try to convince him to come home. Though there wasn't much the Deputy could do in way of getting him to come home. The boy was 18 and legally didn't have to return if he didn't want to.

Rook thanked Mrs. Sanders for her time and left, closing the door behind her before letting out a groan. This was just another person who didn't like that a family member joined The Project, another person who harbored negative feelings towards something they didn't agree with and couldn't accept another persons choice. In the end these particular calls always resulted in a welfare check and rarely with anyone coming home.

It wasn't before long she pulled up to the gates of the compound, greeted by two armed guards who looked her over as she climbed out of her vehicle. Rook offers a smile as she walks past them, quickly being struck by the sickeningly sweet smell of Bliss flowers as she entered the compound; rubbing her nose and huffing softly trying to clear her airways to no avail. She couldn't stand those flowers. As pretty as they were to look at the smell always gave her a headache and made her stomach churn. Making her way towards Joseph's church she was greeted, to a degree, warmly by the members of Edens Gate and she returning those greetings in equal warmth.

Approaching the large white doors of the church a pang of anxiety bloomed inside her. She was no stranger to the Seeds by any means, they had been an element in her life since her youth. At this point encounters with the Project, with the Seeds' in her personal life felt as natural as could be, especially with the youngest of the three. But when the uniform was thrown into the mix she was expected to behave a certain way, had to keep an image, the image of law enforcement and that was what caused the unease within her. Pushing the door open slowly she peaks her head in, glancing around the room before entering; and before her they stood, their conversation halted, the Seed Brothers and sister. Joseph stood at his podium, Jacob was leaning against the wall behind him, Faith sat on the edge of the platform and John... Oh John. Standing beside Joseph, his stance and well built frame screaming elegance and power.

As she steps inside they all lift their heads, gaze falling upon her. The church was silent for a moment longer than was comfortable before Joseph spoke.

“Deputy. To what do we owe this visit?” For once he had a shirt on, the only thing at this point that ever surprised her when it came to Edens Gate.

“Apologies for uh... interrupting. I'm here to ask a favor of you.” Avery strode forward, taking a deep breath to shake off her nerves. “There's someone I've been asked to check on who I can only assume is currently under John's care, likely for confession.” She glances at the youngest Seed, his cold blue eyes and heavy gaze threatening a lump to form in her throat.

John tisks at her with a slight smirk. Were she not in uniform she'd roll her eyes at the arrogance this man emitted. “Deputy, you know someone can't be interrupted when preparing to confess their sins. I'm shocked you'd even ask.”

“Yeah well, that's the favor I'm asking for, to speak with him.” Joseph and John shared a glance for a moment before looking back to the Deputy. “Look, for once I'm not here having been asked to preform a removal. If I'm able to see him and just talk with him for a moment with no resistance from the project, it's likely you won't be seen as the bad guys for once.”

A thoughtful look graced the Father's face. “This decision I will leave to my brother.” Joseph announces as he places a hand on John's back.

The youngest Seed takes a moment to think, still taking in the view of the Deputy standing before him; stray blonde hairs messily framing her face and cheeks red from the chilled winter air. He smirks as he steps down from the platform, firmly clasping a hand on Avery's shoulder to turn her around towards the doors of the church. “I believe I can work something out, my dear Deputy.” His arm wraps around her shoulders as he walks with her out the doors of the church. “Who is it you're looking to speak with?”

Within moments of John's embrace Avery's face flushed a disgraceful shade a red. Since the day she had first laid eyes on him she'd been memorized by the youngest of the brothers. Everything about him drew her in, from the way he presented himself even when under heavy allegations of abuse and kidnapping; to his manicured and masculine presence, his perfectly shaped form and sculpted features and those... beautiful steel blue eyes... This train of thought isn't helping...

Avery hunches her shoulders, drawing into herself to escape his hold as they step out of the church, quick to give John's firm... toned back 'Avery stop' a friendly pat. “I appreciate it, Seed. His name is Kevin Sanders.”

John looked almost offended for a moment at her slinking away from him before amusement takes it's place. “Well what can I say, you're solely responsible for the fragile peace between Edens Gate and the people of Hope County. You're our Peace Keeper.”

The Deputy scrunches her nose. She hated being called that, but it wasn't far from the truth. “It's certainly come with it's share of consequences. The county is convinced I'm in your pocket, that I'm one of you.”

With a smirk on his face John hails on his radio for the Sanders boy to be brought to Seed Ranch then returns the device snugly to his hip. “Is that really such a bad thing? You've been such a help to us that should you decide to join I'm sure Joseph would provide you a comfortable spot among us; perhaps even by me, aiding in bringing the sinners to redemption. Edens Gate has warmed up to you Deputy. I'd even go so far as to bet you weren't searched or questioned when entering the Father's compound.” John gave a knowing look in Avery's direction, catching a look of what seemed to be frustration from the fact she knew he was right.

The two approached her vehicle and climbed in, John settling into his seat with a dramatic sigh. “The boy will be at Seed Ranch waiting for you, Deputy Winters. Though do keep in mind, every favor requires payment.”

Rook narrows her eyes and glances at him as she shifts into reverse. “What do you want?” Her response came off more aggressive than intended, though John didn't seem to care.

Bringing a hand up to thoughtfully stroke his beard, John gazes ahead, letting a silence hang a few moments longer than was necessary. “I'll think of something.” His gaze shifts towards Avery, a mischievous look in his eye.

Avery rolls her eyes, letting a soft smile stain her lips before driving off. That look on the man's face made her stomach flutter with butterflies and her heart feel warm. She may have been in uniform but in the privacy of her Bronco, she felt as though she could relax around him more, even if just a little.

She was 16 when the religious congregation moved into the town she called home. Her grandfather would rant and rave about them during supper, Avery and her grandmother ignoring his ravings as they ate. The Project was small then, never caused problems and kept to themselves aside from the public service the Father would host every Friday and Sunday which she had attended on occasion. Initially it was out of curiosity, but the moment she had laid upon the youngest Seed, she admittedly attended for more... personal reasons. Avery would sit as close to the front as possible just to gaze upon blue clad man standing at the back of the stage. Though by the end of the service, when the brothers would encourage attendees to approach them, the young woman would leave due to lack of nerve. While she enjoyed looking at him, the thought of speaking with him drained her of all confidence, typical teenager. Avery continued her attendance for quite some time before her first interaction with the either of the Seed brothers.

Not long after turning 17, during a sermon one evening as she examined those in attendance, taking in who was around her and spotting familiar faces, she couldn't help but take notice of just how much their following had grown; how many more people now came to attend their service. As Avery returned her attention to the front, her heart stopped when she caught the gaze of the youngest Seed. His eyes were shamelessly watching her with a knowing look; as if telling her 'I know what you've been doing'. It took a few moments but Avery managed to pry her eyes away from him, face flushed and heart racing. She kept her attention off of him for a good portion of the sermon that evening, but whenever she tried to catch a glimpse of him after that, their eyes met, making her more and more frustrated each time.

At the end of service when it was time to rise Avery briskly made her way towards the exit, letting out a deep breath as she stepped out of the tent to sooth the rapid fire nerves shooting off inside her. This was the end, there was no way she could continue to attend these little sermons after this.

“It's impolite to stare, dear.” A voice suddenly calls to her, the tone a playful mockery of a parent scolding their child.

The young woman quickly turns with wide eyes, the unexpected company firing up her nerves yet again. She was met with the sight of the one and only John Seed slowly walking from around the tent, that knowing look still on his face and accompanied by a smirk. No words Avery could muster up in that moment would have been adequate, so she pursed her lips and chose not to respond, instead deciding to take a step back. Blue met gray for a long moment as the two stared at one another, the silence doing nothing to help the anxiety that was bubbling up inside Avery.

John tilts his head in amusement, the smirking growing the slightest bit as she continues to slowly stride towards her. “But, I'm willing to be... lenient in allowing this behavior. I also tend to find myself not wanting to look away when I see something I like.” His words dripped with salaciousness, sending the girls mind reeling, rendering her near unable to process what was happening.

A faint nervous laugh managed to force it's way past the barricade that had built in her throat as John grew close enough that Avery could smell his cologne; and if she focused hard enough, she swore she could feel the heat radiating off of him. Just as she tried to find a response a white book held by long tattooed fingers thumps against her stomach causing her to let out a yelp. Taking hold of the hardback Avery look down at the book examining the cover; The Book Of Joseph... As she looks it over a shiver runs down her spine when John leans down to her ear and speaks softly.

“See you Friday, dear.” His playful and alluring tone echoed through her head as she watched him walk away, leaving her to process what just happened.

After that she felt she had no choice but to continue attending, continue those heart pounding moments where their eyes would meet throughout the evening. Her relationship with the brothers, especially John continued to grow and became comfortable and familiar for the next year; until she turned 18. That day she had taken the first steps to joining the police academy and ship off not long after. For those 21 weeks and the following 2 years of service in Great Falls, Avery counted the days until she could request a Deputy's slot in Hope County.

That had been 5 years ago by this point. 5 years of desperately trying to keep peace between the people of the county she loved and the people of a project that was ran by a man that she... well... admired.

The drive was quiet for the most part, nothing but the sound of the dirt and loose rocks beneath tires to fill the silence. Since coming back to Hope County the feelings she felt for the man had never faltered, though due to her job she couldn't allow herself to indulge in them too much no matter how tempted she found herself. John still gave her those knowing looks which she on occasion returned, he still made her nerves set a blaze, she still found herself enjoying the moments she could gaze upon him. Nothing seemed to have changed. Despite all that hadn't changed, enough about the project had changed that she found her concern growing.

“John...?” The Deputy spoke up, thumb worrying the leather on her steering wheel.

“Avery?” He turns his attention to her.

“Off the record... all these accusations of the Project 'forcing'..” She air quotes “people to join... are they any grounds for those claims to stand on?” Avery almost sounded ashamed to ask, guilty for daring to question the innocence of the project on the front of the accusations pressed against them. Every time she had been sent out to look into kidnapping allegations she found no proof of it being true, but the number claims struck her with concern.

John stared at her for a moment, clearly putting together his response in his head before opening his mouth to respond. “Our goal is to save as many of god's children- the Father's children as we can before the earth is cleansed by his righteous and holy fire. His creatures, his children, don't all know they need saving. They don't all want saving, sometimes they just need a little... coercion. We do nothing but present them with what they will inevitably accept they need.”

Avery sighs, rubbing her forehead she closes her eyes for a moment. That basically sounded like a big ole' 'yes' to her. “Yeah, I've read the book John, I know what the project is about but exactly how do you coerce people join?”

“We simply promise them what they need, we promise them freedom and a chance to be cleansed and reborn. And, should it be necessary we will use... a firm hand to guide them to their decision.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

“Well maybe try softening that hand a bit? There's going to be a point John where no matter what I say or what I do, it won't be enough to protect the project...”

“Is that self doubt I hear in your voice, Avery?” Slender fingers gently caress her mid thigh. “So unlike you...”

A shamefully pleasurable shiver quakes up her spine.

“You needn't worry, Deputy. You're our peace keeper, capable of more than you realize.” There was an unusually tender sound to his tone, his words coming off softer than she was used to. His words always carried such boldness, a confidence that was honestly annoying; but in that moment he sounded genuine... sounded sincere. With that the previously uncomfortable silence felt comfortable, and they spent the rest of the ride in that silence.

Full work will be posted here

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076199/chapters/55200811

#Far Cry #Far Cry 5 #far cry 5 fic #far cry 5 fanfiction #john seed #deputy #Deputy Avery Winters #john seed x oc #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #original content #the briar patch #john seed/deputy #long post

25 notes · View notes

takadasaiko · 4 years

Text

Love Me Twice: Chapter Twelve

FFN II AO3

Summary: Tom and Ressler end up on a stakeout with Aram and Tom comes face-to-face with Brigitte Tremblay.

Chapter Twelve

Liz's call to the Post Office found them neck deep into a lead that had broken while she and Tom had been dodging bullets. They had found Petrov's safe house and moved in quickly, uncovering the treasure trove that Reddington had promised with The Collector. Ressler, Park, and Aram were all still there when Liz and Tom stepped out of the lift and into the War Room. They used the time to search what they could for entry and exits on the building that Brigitte Tremblay had shot from, hoping for a break of their own.

"I'm telling you, this woman's a pro," Tom said as he motioned to the single photo they'd found. It was grainy, triggered by a car flying through a red light, but even if Aram cleaned it up it wouldn't do any good. All they could see was the bill of her cap shading her face from view.

The lift sounded, drawing their attention, and Liz's three partners trudged their way in. Ressler spotted her first. "Cooper said that Tolliver's dead?"

She let a breath out on a sigh. "It's been a long day."

Park set her things down on her desk. "Any leads on who killed her?"

"Yes and no. We think it was the woman who hired Tom, but this is the best photo we have of her." Liz swiveled the computer screen around to show what she and Tom had been looking at.

Aram visibly cringed. "Nothing else?"

"No, and I need to go pick up Agnes from her friend's house."

"I'll keep looking," Tom offered. "I have a couple of contacts. It's a long shot, but —"

"No."

He blinked hard, a sign she knew well of him resetting. "Why?"

"Because she's been using you. We have no idea if she's going to try to tie up loose ends or what she's doing."

"I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself," he promised.

Liz looked past him at her team that was trying to look busy with anything else to give them what little privacy the War Room could afford and she let the honest answer roll off her tongue before she could talk herself out of it. "I'm scared. I've lost you too many times. I can't do it again."

She watched his expression soften at that and his hand twitched at his side, almost like he was about to reach for her. "So now what?"

"I just need to know you're safe."

"Okay…" he drawled out. "I can't exactly crash on your couch with the kid there."

Liz looked past him, her gaze sweeping the space. She couldn't just leave him there. It'd be safe, sure, but Cooper would never go for it and Tom would feel like a prisoner. With everything going on she needed him safe, but she needed to keep his trust too. She knew he was desperate and clinging to any hope that she could help him remember. The last thing she wanted was to somehow spark that instinct he had to run. Asking him to let her lock him away in a government bunker might just do it.

"I got a couch."

Both Keens turned to Ressler who shrugged. "What?"

"Are you offering?" Liz asked skeptically as Tom said:

"Yeah, that's really not necessary, man."

Ressler quirked an eyebrow. "Alternative is putting a cot in one of the holding cells."

"Or just finding my own place to crash and reconvening tomorrow," Tom countered.

"Listen," Ressler said as he stepped towards them and Liz didn't miss the way Tom drew himself up a little taller. "Just an offer. For Liz. Otherwise she'll be stressing out over you and she won't be good to any of us when we have to hit the ground running tomorrow."

She caught her partner's gaze briefly. She owed him. Hell, she owed him more favours than she could count by this point.

Tom's shoulders sagged just a little and he turned back to Liz. "One night."

"Thank you." She had to stop herself from tipping forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Instead she reached forward and her hand squeezed his before releasing. "I need to go pick up Agnes. Ressler..."

"I'll add it to the list," he huffed and she tried for a smile.

"Thank you. I'll see you guys in the morning."

She turned and started for the door.

----------

It had been a long day for everyone. Tom finished filling them in on the details of the chaos and Ressler found himself shaking his head. Somewhere along the way this had become normal, or at least expected. With the spies and secrets that could get you killed and people that had been dead for years popping up with a decade's worth of memories missing, it was a wonder they hadn't all lost it yet. If Park's reaction was anything to go by, maybe they all should have run from it by this point.

For that moment, though, he was looking forward to a shower and his bed. Somehow he and Tom were the last ones out.

"Let me grab my keys and we'll head out," Ressler called over and Tom looked up from the computer he'd been given limited access to in order to research Tremblay. He shifted, his expression careful and his gaze steady like he was looking for something.

"Listen," he said slowly and nothing about his tone instilled any confidence that Ressler was going to like what came next, "I get Liz is… worried. I guess. From what she's filled me in on we've been through a lot."

"Understatement," Ressler muttered as he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair it had been draped over.

"But with everything that's going on…. she could be in danger too. I'm not just gonna sit around."

"You just said you understood that she's worried about you," Ressler pointed out.

"Right, so if she thinks I crashed at your place she won't be. Everybody wins." Tom flashed what Ressler was sure he thought was a charming smile, but it reminded him of the days when he wanted nothing more than to take a swing at that smug look. Sometimes he had.

"You want me to lie to her?"

Tom's expression shifted to confusion. "Well… yeah. So she doesn't worry. She's got enough on her plate right now."

Ressler snorted and shook his head. If it weren't so idiotic it might have been funny. Was this really how Tom's brain worked the entirety of his and Liz's first marriage? No wonder she'd shot him. He took a beat, pulled a breath in, and tried to curb the sarcasm as he spoke. "Listen, pal, I get you didn't see what she went through when she lost you, but I did. It destroyed her. That woman - the one that you're just trying to placate right now - hasn't been the same since. I don't wanna see her go through that again, so if I have to lock you in the box to make you keep your promise to her tonight, I'll do it. Happily."

"What box?"

Ressler smirked and watched Tom's expression grow a little more worried. "You can sleep locked up here or you can crash on my couch. Only two options."

The other man watched him carefully as if he were trying to gauge just how far Ressler was willing to take this. Finally he relented. "Couch it is."

"Thought so."

The drive to Ressler's apartment was tense and quiet, Tom looking like he was just waiting for his opening to do what he wanted to despite Ressler's threats. He reminded the agent of the asshole fresh out of captivity on the boat that had been looking for any angle he could work. It had been so long since Ressler had seen him in that light, but for Tom, he was still in that mindset. As much as the older man hated to admit it, he didn't know any better.

Ressler unlocked the front door to his apartment and motioned for Tom to enter. "You hungry?" he asked, giving civility another try.

"I think I'm just gonna crash. Get an early start tomorrow." He tossed his go-bag onto the couch. "You got a shower I can use?"

"Yeah. Just through there," Ressler said as he motioned towards the bathroom. "Hey?" he called out, stopping Tom midway. "I know you don't remember and I don't know what all she's told you, but I'm gonna give you a piece of advice."

"Pretty sure I didn't ask for it,"

"Don't lie to Liz."

Tom snorted. "I get that you're a cop and you've got this whole —"

"This isn't about me. It's about her. And you. You spent your first marriage manipulating and lying to her because you thought you could run the board and get everything you wanted. It ended with Liz in a really dark place and you with a couple rounds through you. After all of this, she doesn't deserve to have to be put through you figuring it out again."

Tom's dark blue eyes were fixed on him and there was a hint of danger in them, his tone careful as he spoke. "I don't know what you want from me, man."

"I'm just trying to help you both. Be honest with her. It'll save you both a lot of pain." At that he turned, disappearing into his room and hoping Tom would be there in the morning.

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

He wasn't sure what he had missed. Liz said she knew him, and she knew enough that he couldn't help but believe her, so why wouldn't she expectthis? She must know that he needed results, that that drove him. He needed somewhere to focus his energy. If he was working for Tremblay or not, his job was to keep her safe. He couldn't do that without answers, and he couldn't wait for play dates and workdays to wrap up to get those. He didn't hold that against her, but in the same way surely she didn't hold that against him. It had to be more of a way to protect herself rather than a real expectation. At least that's what he'd assumed before Ressler's whole lecture.

The shower did nothing to provide any clarity, but by the time Jacob emerged, steam following him out the door, he found a pillow and some blankets on the couch for him. Ressler's door was shut and the light was off inside. Well, at least he didn't have to work his way through any further conversation. The best remaining option was to try to get some sleep.

His mind was spinning as he shut his eyes, dozens of images and thoughts colliding together. Somewhere along the way he must have slipped a little deeper and it was like being dropped in a room filled with people. He could hear the constant chatter of voices that he didn't recognize talking about things that didn't make sense, and he could feel his anxiety spike as he tried to cover for his obvious lack of intel. Everything he said was wrong and he knew it. They knew it too, and the more he screwed up the worse it got.

Finally, for the first time, a voice he recognized broke through. Liz. It was Liz. Her name left his lips and it was like he'd banished all the other voices, the figures evaporating like ghosts and he was left standing alone in the center of a large room he didn't recognize. He turned, looking for her, and called out again. She answered and he started towards the voice.

Red and blue lights filled the interior space, but no sirens accompanied it. The only sounds Jacob could make out were Liz calling his name and the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. He opened door after door, but she wasn't there. It was like her voice shifted, always out of reach, and he couldn't fight the overwhelming feeling that if he didn't find her now, he might never see her again.

"Liz!" His voice echoed through the empty hallways and he rounded to another closed door, throwing it open.

And there she stood, dressed in white with her hair trimmed short. Instead of the red and blue lights flashing he could hear the sound of the waves and see the sunset from the balcony behind her. She smiled, relieved. "You came."

"I've been looking all over for you," he managed, crossing the space between them.

Her smile broadened, but even though he was moving further into the room it felt like he was running in place. He reached out to her and there was a bright light that flashed. The sunset behind her disappeared and the flashing lights returned. He could see blood in her hair now and she met his eyes. "Tell Agnes about me."

"What?" he managed, but she was gone. It was as if she simply flashed out of existence with the lights and Jacob couldn't breathe. "Liz? Liz!"

"Tom?"

Dark blue eyes snapped open and Jacob was halfway to sitting before he realized he was no longer in the strange, shifting place that was becoming more and more shrouded with each passing second. He was pulling air into his lungs in painful gulps, the strain sending him hunching forward over his knees.

"You need a trash can? Because I really don't want you puking on my couch."

Jacob turned to find Donald Ressler squatted down next to the couch, his expression not quite irritated. It wasn't worried either. From what Jacob could tell in the dimly lit living room it looked a little closer to understanding. "I'm good."

"Nightmare?"

"What gave me away?" He swallowed hard, feeling the painful scratch all the way down. "You got, uh…."

"Water?"

"Yeah." Ressler disappeared for just a moment before returning with a glass of tap water. He handed it over and Jacob took a long sip from it. "Liz said that the doctors you saw after… everything said there was no sign of head trauma. If someone intentionally manipulated your memories -"

Jacob turned quickly, regretting the sharp moment in an instant, but he did his best to cover it. "How - or why - would someone do that?"

The fed snorted, shrugging as he stood again. "There's a process that people are trained in that can manipulate and… hide memories. Didn't Liz say anything about it?"

Jacob leaned back, listening to the other man rummage around his kitchen. "There's a lot of ground to cover in what I'm missing."

"Fair." He returned, a box of what was probably cold pizza in one hand and a couple of beers in the other. He set it all down on the coffee table and took a seat in the chair next to it, opening the pizza box. He glanced at Jacob. "If the nausea's passed, feel free to grab a slice."

Jacob swung his legs over the edge of the couch so that he was sitting up fully and took Ressler up on the offer. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was. Halfway through the second bite he risked a look at him. "People can screw with your memories?"

"In our experience, yeah. We've run into it a few times. Liz had some memories buried from when she was a kid and I, uh…. I had someone manipulate mine to get me to do something I wouldn't normally have done."

"Is there someone that would have? My memories, I mean."

Ressler loosed a breath and reached over to one of the beers, popping the top off of it. "A couple options," he said slowly. "Liz is leaning one direction, I'm wondering about another."

"And those are?"

"You need to talk to her about that." He motioned to the beer and the pizza box. "I had a lot of nightmares after they scrambled my brain like an egg. After the nausea was done, this helped ease the nerves."

"Thanks," Jacob huffed and took the second beer. Definitely not how he expected the night to go. "You ever…. get back what they took from you?"

Ressler's expression darkened and he reached for a second slice. "They didn't really take as much as they put stuff in there that didn't belong."

"I just have this massive, gaping blank," Jacob found himself saying. "There's nothing. It's like I went to bed one night and woke up ten years later."

"Hell of a thing to wake up to."

"You're telling me. I had scars I didn't recognize, nobody would tell me how I'd been hurt…. Guess that part makes more sense now. Gina…. Someone I work with -"

"I know who she is," Ressler answered and there was a hint of spite in his voice.

Jacob huffed a laugh. "She made it sound like it'd just been any other job that did it. She lied. I know that now. I shouldn't…. I shouldn't trust Liz - or you people - but she knows too much to be making it up."

"She loves you," Ressler said firmly. "I meant what I said about how she took thinking you were dead. It was hell for her."

"I wanna remember."

"Good. She needs you to."

Jacob took a long drink from his beer and his phone buzzed on the table. He reached for it, brows drawing together as he looked at the text.

"What?"

"It's Tremblay."

"The woman that hired you?"

"Yeah."

"What'd she say?"

"She wants to meet." Jacob could feel Ressler watching him. "I should go. We might not get another chance."

"Did you get nothing from our conversation earlier?" Ressler groused.

Jacob's lips quirked up at one corner, tilting them into a lopsided smile. "Liz is worried about me going at it alone, but I've got backup now. If you've got a camera, I can lure her out and you can grab a shot. We may be able to find out who she is."

Ressler watched him for a long moment. "I don't, but I know someone with the equipment we need."

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

Aram hadn't expected a call at three in the morning, much less a call asking him what kind of surveillance equipment he could dig up then and there. It took a couple rounds of explanation before his sleep deprived mind was able to piece together that Tom's mystery employer had made contact and that Ressler was going with Tom to the meet. Did Liz know? They should probably call Liz…. she was really worried about Tom doing this without her.

She wouldn't have anyone to watch Agnes at that hour and they needed to move quickly. Their window was closing. It was fine. Her biggest concern was going at it alone, and he wasn't. He now had not one but two federal agents to watch his back.

Aram had forgotten how effortlessly smooth Tom was when he wanted something, but at least Ressler had been quick to say that they'd let Liz know first thing the next morning and they would have Tom's back. Okay. He could get behind that.

That's how he found himself sitting in the back of Ressler's Bureau-issued SUV a block away from the meet with the only the surveillance equipment that he'd been able to get his hands on at that hour of the morning. The sound quality was a little iffy on the watch they had fitted Tom with, but it was better than nothing. It wasn't like they'd be able to get the permission to patch into any CCTV feeds to get live visuals.

Ressler shifted in his place across from Aram. "You have everything up and running?"

"I do. We can hear him, but it's only one way." He handed Ressler a headset to listen through and frowned a little. "Is it… weird?"

"Liz's husband coming back from the dead without any memory of her? Yeah, it's weird."

"Okay, good, because with everything we see sometimes it's hard to tell." Aram reached over to check one of his feeds, but risked a glance out of the corner of his eye to watch Ressler's reaction. The other man sighed and ran his hand through his surprisingly ungelled hair. Well, it had been in the middle of the night when all of this had been kicked into action. He looked tired.

"It's weird," he confirmed again quietly. "But you're right. Sometimes it's easy to lose perspective on that. We've seen more crazy since Reddington turned himself in than I would have ever believed possible."

"I mean, I guess that's good though, right? Maybe it means we can find a way to get his memories back. Liz…. Liz deserves to be happy." After everything they'd all been through, at least one of them did.

Ressler made a small sound of acknowledgement, but didn't get the chance to say anything else as Tom signaled that they were a go.

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

He was meeting her in the warehouse district at half past five in the morning. Limited visuals, audio equipment that Aram had been struggling to get to work, and a delay in backup that could cost him his life if things went south. He may have shrugged off the risk as minuscule, but it was a good thing Liz wouldn't know about this until after it was done.

Jacob pulled in a deep breath and felt the cool night air rush down into his lungs to help clear his sleep deprived mind. The urgency of the meet had been a bit of a surprise, following up only hours after Brigitte Tremblay had taken out Tolliver in her pointed fashion, and it could either be a good or bad sign. He didn't think there was much of an in between there. All he could do was hold onto the fact that, from her vantage point, she could have easily taken either him or Liz out if that had been her goal. Instead she had saved their lives. The only casualty other than Tolliver's men had been Fitz, and Jacob wasn't crying too much over that little traitor.

He didn't visibly tense at the small sound behind him signalled her approach but he turned to meet those sharp blue eyes. An almost playful smile tilted her lip. "You don't follow instructions well, do you?"

"My instructions were to protect her," he answered flatly, watching every hint of reaction. "That's exactly what I've done."

Her smile managed to broaden at that and her posture was loose. "I knew you would, Tom."

Jacob bristled at the name everyone had been calling him by, but it felt like a taunt falling from her lips.

"I'll admit that you moved more quickly than I would have anticipated, but I shouldn't be surprised. Zanetakos assured me her best."

"You knew it'd be me."

"I did."

"Why?"

Tremblay's amusement faded just a little at that, a hint of seriousness taking hold as she studied him. "Because I am very good at what I do, Tom. I read people. You didn't have to remember her for me to know that you'd be drawn to her. That you'd be willing to give your life to protect her."

A shiver ran through him and Jacob took a step towards. "Do you know what happened to me?"

"Pieces."

He could feel something inside of him shift, a desperation starting to claw at him. He wasn't afraid of much - he never had been - but answers dangling just out of his reach reminded him of the precipice of questions he stood at. He'd spent two and a half years pushing those questions back and down. It was the only way he'd been able to move forward, or at least what he thought was moving forward. He had burrowed down in what he knew. Which was… a lie, or at least it hadn't been the truth in a very long time. Now, knowing that, he still didn't have the answers he needed about what had happened in his ten missing years. He had stories and people that knew him, but he didn't remember. "I need to know."

"You want to."

"I need to," he pressed. "I need to know who I am because the man that Liz knows…."

She tilted her head, watching him carefully and all the mirth had washed out of her now. "You're an operative. A man that can become anyone. People like us shift and soak up whatever we need to in order to be whatever the job requires."

"I became someone else. Someone better."

"No," Tremblay chuckled. "You just convinced yourself that you did. You're a shell that was ready to be filled up and, for the first time, you were filled up with hope. It's powerful and it's distracting. It can get you killed, but I'm betting it'll protect her."

He wanted to argue. Liz saw someone different than he knew. Her friends saw someone different. He felt different around her. He couldn't explain it and he couldn't remember it, but he knew it, somehow.

At least he thought he had.

The argument died in his throat and he swallowed hard. "Why am I here? Tonight. Now."

"To hear a warning." Tremblay said as she leaned in. He stood still where he was and felt her fingers ghost over his watch. She knew what it was and she knew how to disable it. It clicked before she whispered into his ear. "This is the beginning of the end, Tom. Protect her. She's everything." She pressed a strange kiss against his cheek and pulled away, leaving Jacob to stare at her, dumbfounded.

"Don't move!" Ressler shouted from behind Jacob and Tremblay's smile returned.

"Don't let your wife's partner shoot me, hm?" She turned on her heel and Jacob watched her take a couple of steps before instinct kicked in and he spun, motioning to Ressler.

"Let her go."

"What?" the fed demanded, but Tremblay was already gone. Ressler lowered his gun and started towards Jacob. "Hey, you okay?"

He hadn't realized until that moment that he was dragging each breath in by gulps, the effort making his chest heave. It hurt, one breath not fully expelled before he tried to swallow another one. He couldn't shake the sudden and overwhelming feeling that each breath might be the last one he could pull in. It was the same feeling of panic he'd felt as he woke a couple of hours before.

"Tom, you okay?"

Ressler sounded genuinely concerned and as Jacob turned to look at him, he didn't feel like he had any control over the words leaving his lips. "I can't do this."

And he was moving. Running. The only thing that pushed back at the panic was running.

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

TBC

Notes: Well, Tom warned her in S2 he'd been running his whole life. He does it well.

I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Like so much with Tom, Tessler was a bromance that just didn't get what it deserved. They tee'd it up and set it to swing and then.... they killed Tom. Okay then. That's what fanfiction is for I guess.

Next Time: Ressler has to admit to losing Liz's husband, Red provides a new detail for their case, and the Keens find a way to reconnect.

#The blacklist #Elizabeth Keen #Tom Keen #Donald Ressler #Aram Mojtabai

4 notes · View notes

thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,480

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali, @shrimpmsg,

Chapter 45: 21st Century Girl

“Whatever other people say, whatever this world tells you, you’re the best to me just the way you are.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Isn’t it early where you are?”

“No, it’s only nine.”

“You look tired though.”

“A lot’s been going on with my new job.”

“I’ll admit, I was a little worried when you said you were quitting your other job. Is that even allowed with the visa you currently have?”

“It’s fine. I applied for another visa through my new company.”

Anastasia sighed, attempting a smile for Jacob. The Skype call had only been going on for about twenty minutes, but it felt like they were talking for hours. She tried to check in about once a week, but with all the hustle and bustle with the company and the ever-blossoming relationship she was in with Seokjin, it was hard to maintain contact in the way she would have liked. Add on the extreme time zone difference and that was how things wound up.

“Is it harder than working for your old job?”

“No,” she said while shaking her head, “it’s about the same workload. I have more responsibilities because I technically got promoted when they hired me.”

Jacob nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. It was getting a little longer than she was used to. He would have cut it by now, but he seemed set on trying out a new image.

She watched him take a drink of water. “Are you happy, Ana?”

Blinking, she wasn’t quite sure what to make of his question. Had she given any indication that she wasn’t happy? She hoped not. She didn’t want him worrying unnecessarily.

Again, she smiled. “Yeah Jake, I’m happy.”

Anastasia watched her brother’s eyes furrow from the computer screen. She knew it wasn’t because he didn’t believe her. He just worried a lot and tended to fuss over her unnecessarily. It was the role Jacob chose to play since he was the second-born. They were only two years apart, but they were thick as thieves and she appreciated how close they were despite her being the oldest of her three siblings. Their baby brother, Phillip, was still just starting college while Elena just graduated from her university. Their parents were still harping on about practicality when it came to their futures, something that both Anastasia and Jacob despised. They should have all been allowed to choose the paths they wanted to live, regardless of the outcomes.

“Well,” he finally said, shrugging one shoulder, “as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

Relief washed over her and she sank back in her chair a little more, cradling the mug of green tea in her hands. Her hand slid from the handle to press a palm to her stomach, a warmer smile touching her features. She must have looked a little silly because the sound Jacob clearing his throat loudly startled her from her thoughts. When she peered back at the screen, his face was a little closer, as if he was leaning forward to look directly into her eyes.

“So, are you finally dating someone now?”

She coughed loudly, sitting up and quickly setting her mug down on the desk by her keyboard. “W-What?” Anastasia attempted to wrangle the words that were escaping her. “What’s with the interrogation anyway?”

Again, Jacob shrugged. “I know you dated that one guy, but that’s it.” He leaned back in his chair, lounging lazily. “Just figured you were seeing someone new.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm, her hands fidgeting until Anastasia started twirling a few locks between her fingers. It was a nervous tick that she hadn’t been able to break and there was no sign of it stopping anytime soon. She’d be an old woman pulling at her thinning gray strands until they put her in the ground.

Jacob laughed, realizing he’d caught her in his cleverly laid trap. If he was within arms-reach, she would have shaken him like a rag doll. “Your face gives away everything. It’s why you suck at poker.”

“Shut-up,” she muttered.

Another window suddenly popped up, notifying her that she had another call. She stared at the screen as Seokjin’s name and picture appeared in the window. Her eyes lowered to the corner of the monitor, spying the time, and she wondered why he was calling. He’d given her the rest of the week off so she could adjust to all the hormonal imbalances that came with her pregnancy. Talking with her brother was part of the whole routine check-up bit, but she really wanted to talk to him about her being with child.

“Hold on, Jake. I have another call.”

“Sure.”

She put her brother on hold, answering Seokjin’s call. When his face popped up on the screen, Anastasia could only stare at how uncomfortably close his face was to the camera. Neither of them said anything. She was too startled to speak and he apparently was trying to read something about her. He did this often when he was trying to catch her in some kind of lie or if she was secretly up to something.

“Seokjin,” she finally said, blinking, “what are you doing?” Anastasia looked over his shoulder to see if he was in his office. “Shouldn’t you be, oh I dunno, working or something?”

“Why are you on the computer?” he asked suddenly. “I gave you the rest of the week off to rest. Not so you could stare at a monitor.”

Anastasia sighed. “I’m talking to my brother. Why?”

“You can’t talk on the phone?”

“Phone calls are expensive. Skype is free.”

He gave her a dissatisfied look. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious! Why are you calling me on Skype if you’re worried about me being in front of a monitor?”

“Because you won’t answer your phone!”

“My phone’s dead and I’m charging it!” Anastasia puffed out one of her cheeks. “Geez, you’re impossible.”

He frowned, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes before leaning back in his chair. “…are you hungry?”

“Am I hung—what?” She looked back at the clock to make sure of the time. “It’s still early!”

“You should at least eat breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be working? Go back to work!”

Without waiting for his response, she hung up the call and went back to the window her brother was on. Jacob was busying himself with scribbling some notes on a notepad.

“Sorry about that.”

He looked up at the screen, setting his pen down. “Who was that?”

“A potential headache.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just a headache.”

Jacob smirked. “Yeah? Sounds like a boyfriend to me.”

“Jacob Martin!”

He laughed loudly, holding a hand up as he patted the air. “Okay, okay. I get it. Dropping it now.”

Anastasia smiled as she sighed, realizing how much she missed her brother being around. He mentioned coming to visit from time to time, but between working and trying to find his place in the world, she knew that it was almost impossible. Air fare wasn’t cheap and while she could afford to fly him out if he wanted, there was the internal worry about him judging her ties with former gangsters. Their home life wasn’t peaches and cream, but it was far from unsavory. What family was perfect?

Even so, she still wondered what her brother would think of her if she told him she was having a child out of wedlock.

Once the heavy topic of her work environment was no longer the focus, the two of them were able to engage in lighter conversation. Again, Jacob mentioned coming to visit her in South Korea, mostly because he wanted to see the country she’d called home for the last three and a half years. The place was full of beauty and splendor. There were many things about the land that helped heal her from the horrible fall she’d had over her broken dreams. While she may not have been a chef and restaurant owner like she wanted, her current occupation brought her to this place.

The path she walked led her to Seokjin, the man she loved.

Half an hour passed and she realized that it was getting late. She worried that she was keeping Jacob up longer than normal.

“You should probably get some rest,” she said, noting the tired look in Jacob’s eyes, “you have the overnight shift this week, don’t you?”

Jacob stifled a yawn. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I need to make sure that Phillip did his homework.”

“Let Elena worry about that.”

He nodded, waving a hand back and forth to her. Anastasia wished to ruffle his hair like she often did when they were teenagers. A painful wave of nostalgia overtook her and she did her best not to cry, cursing herself for all the pregnancy hormones throwing her out of whack. Jacob didn’t seem to notice as he finished off his bottle of water.

“Mm, alright. I guess I’ll try to get some sleep. G’night, ‘Stasia.”

Anastasia rubbed at her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Goodnight, Jake.”

The blip noise sounded after the call ended and Anastasia was left with only silence. She curled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs as she buried her face into her knees. A weak sob was all she could muster, mourning the lack of family around her to tell her that everything was going to be okay. That her worries would be for nothing and that she would be happy. That she deserved to be happy, despite all of her failures.

For a moment, all she could do was sob quietly to herself. There were so many missed opportunities to empty her soul to her brother. He would have understood and encouraged her. Jacob would have told her that she was strong, that she was one of the strongest people he knew, and that this little bump in the road was just one pothole on the way to glory. Their parents would have told her she was shameful for carrying another man’s child when she hadn’t even so much as been introduced to his family. That it was a disgrace to have a child as an unmarried woman. People did it all the time, but not her family. Not the D’Angelo’s.

Anastasia didn’t know how long she was curled up in her chair. She was pretty sure that she’d drifted off at some point. Her limbs ached from scrunching herself up into a ball and they protested as she tried to straighten herself out. A hand rubbed at her stomach while the other wiped the moisture from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Baby,” she whispered, rubbing circles over her belly, “I didn’t mean to cramp you up like that.”

She stretched her legs out, then her arms, before standing. Grabbing the mug, she made her way downstairs. She’d barely made it into the kitchen before the front door burst open and in walked Seokjin, looking flustered and haggard. The mug slipped from her hands and fell into the sink with a loud clatter as she spun around the moment he stalked into the kitchen.

“W-What are you doing?!” Anastasia managed to stammer out, taking a step back as Seokjin quickly closed the distance between them. “You’re supposed to be at work!”

“You hung up on me!”

“That’s because you were acting crazy!”

Anastasia peered around him, hoping that Jimin had the wherewithal to at least follow so she could drag Seokjin back to the office. She frowned, ducking under his arm and bolting from into the living room. He was practically on her heels.

This was insane!

Stopping short, she whirled on her heels and Seokjin had to raise himself up onto the balls of his feet to keep from crashing into her. She stuck her hand out.

“Phone. Now.”

He blinked down at her. “What? No!”

“Gimme the phone, Seokjin!”

His eyes narrowed, issuing his silent refusal. Anastasia didn’t care as she took a step forward, her hands lunging out to reach into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He wasn’t fast enough to move out of the way and her fingers quickly found the item. When he tried to snatch it back from her, she twirled so that her back was facing him.

Her thumb slid over the dots to form the pattern needed to unlock his phone and she immediately dialed Jimin. As the phone rang, Seokjin tried to take the phone back but Anastasia was already half running, half jumping up the stairs toward the loft. Jimin answered before the second ring could finish.

“Hyung! Where did you go?!”

“Jimin-ah, you tell your boss to take his ass back to work!”

“A-Ana Noona? What are you—?”

“Do you hear me?” Her feet landed on the top step and she turned around to stick her foot out, her heel planting itself against Seokjin’s chest to keep him from moving any closer to her. “He has fivemeetings today and one of them is in twenty minutes. How could you let him leave the office in the first place?!”

“I’m sorry, Noona. I tried! But Seokjin Hyung hit me. He hit me in the chest and I was horrified!”

She shot him a glare. “He did what now?”

“He’s never hit me. I didn’t know what to do! I was caught off guard! I’m sorry. I’ll come over right now.”

Anastasia hung up the phone and tossed it back to Seokjin. She then pointed downstairs. “Out.”

He pouted. “Anastasia, come on…”

“Go back to work!” Her eyes narrowed. “If I end up having to take you backto the office, I’m going to work and I’m gonna make every second of your life a living hell while I’m there. Do you understand me?”

Seokjin gave her the once over, as if trying to surmise if she really would do it. He knew better. At least she hoped he knew better. She was as stubborn as a mule and if he thought, for even one second, that she was playing around, then he’d rue the day he ever hired her. She wasn’t going to back down from this and an angry pregnant woman was not a variable that Kim Seokjin would be in a hurry to deal with.

After a moment, he sighed and leaned against the wall. “…alright, you win.” He held his hands up, turning to head downstairs. “I’ll go.”

She stayed upstairs, waiting to hear him put on his shoes and open the door. When she didn’t hear it close, however, Anastasia smiled and shook her head. “I’ll see you tonight,” she called down to him, “have a good day.”

“…love you.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly and she walked down a few steps so she could see his pitiful face.

She laughed.

“I love you too.”

5 notes · View notes

quynh-tessance · 4 years

Note

Relsiq sounds so cute, can you tell me about what kinds of things she's gotten herself into with the others? What's her best moment in the campaign so far?

Yeah, Relsiq is really fun to play as! She has the most unique character voice I use. As for things she’s gotten herself into, she was first introduced into the campaign being resurrected by Captain Jacob after the first mission in the City of Bells went wrong and a necrotic bomb was set off while Relsiq was in the epicenter.

(Image courtesy of @selemina)

For shenanigans, Relsiq has kept a journal of things she’s heard in her sleep from the voices in her head. She’s given it to Vilga, however, Relsiq wrote everything down in a language of her own creation and Vilga has yet to decipher it.

Another thing that happened is Relsiq believes that the “aliens” can’t eat dairy. Eiru is established to be lactose intolerant, but eats a lot of cheese out of spite as well as has a generally suspicious look to him since he covers half his face in a mask. So needless to say, Relsiq thought he was an alien for a while.

My favorite moment was during a big mission in the City of Bells where she summoned her spiritual weapon (Oofo) piloted by Osric, then summoned Guardian of Faith in the shape of one of those flapping inflatable noodle men outside car dealerships. Then to top it off she summoned Spirit Guardians that made the area around her look like a nebula. So she looked pretty badass with everything around her. (Image courtesy of @selemina)

Bonus: In a patrol of a jungle with Gamma Squad, Vilga warned everyone to be careful and don’t make a sound. I proceeded to crit fail my stealth roll, meaning Relsiq tripped and ate shit in the dirt with a squeak, followed by an immediate “Vilga help!”

(Please excuse the rushed doodle of the situation)

#c0dythec0dex

4 notes · View notes

ciestessde · 4 years

Text

Chapter 18

Let's turn back the clock for a moment…

It's a while, yet, before Tess is supposed to fully turn Lucy.

And since it's good cover for establishing a relationship with the locals, she's been working at this little pub for the past few weeks.

[Beginning]

Imagine our surprise, then, when we spot Abraham Van Helsing, of all people, arguing with the cook. We knew he was coming at some point, but, once again, Xihrae had "accidentally" neglected the details. Despite the short time to prepare, Tess isn't thrown off, thinking only, < … Well, now's as good a time as any, I suppose. >

Once they've finished, Tess asks the cook what the argument was about. That answered, she grabs and scarfs down her own food -- and waits for the perfect time to make her entrance.

"I didn't realize the pub offered breakfast this late," Tess says, her tone light-hearted yet accusatory. "Hm?" In the middle of taking a bite, he looks up at her (Tess's eyes just barely above his own) and spills a bit of egg from his mouth. She's not yet donned her uniform, so any attempt at intimidation via authority is pointless. And yet…

He swallows and, stoic, mutters, "Not my first choice." Not to be denied, Tess tries again, "Oh yeah? What would be?" She puts a hand on her hip and tilts her head down at him. "Because I hear the chef takes requests now."

He flinches. < There we go. At least he has the decency to look guilty. > "I… suppose I could have handled that better." "A bit." He regains his bluster, "-But in my defense, my first choice would have been a proper amount of sleep." His face scrunches in disgust (< He looks like an angry bulldog, haha! >), "No rest for the wicked, I suppose."

"…" Tess pulls the stool out from the other side of the small table and plops down. "Why the lack of rest? What are you doing that's so 'wicked' -- if I may ask?"

His mouth thins, and he looks away. "Such things are no concern of a young woman." "Oh?"

And then, the door opens- -and HE comes in.

Thankfully, HIS presence here is a detail Xihrae did not "accidentally" leave out. If he had, this game of hi-... of ours would have been over the very first moment Tess and I met… "Jacob." Nonetheless, I still have to push down the touch of panic that "Jacob" causes every time I see him.

Tess waves to "Jacob," tonight's waiter, as he passes us, continuing her conversation with Helsing, "And I suppose there's nothing I could do to change your mind?" "Hmf!" I can't tell whether that was a laugh or a scoff, but his next words are… gentle, "…This really isn't something you ought to concern yourself with. It's too much for the weak-willed, best left for a man."

< … > < Tess. Control yourself. > < ... I will choose to ignore the last part. >

"'Not for the weak-willed,'" Tess thinks for a moment -- then grins, "…Alright, then." She clicks her tongue twice. It takes only a couple seconds -- the puppy (now about three-fourths grown and considerably larger than most dogs) opens the door with his paws, enters, and comes directly to the table. She snaps her fingers. The pup obeys, sitting beside her. The wolf stares Helsing in the eyes for a couple seconds, before looking back at its master. With the obedient beast beside her, and Tess still dressed in her usual, flowing black dress… Images I'd caught from mirrors in the castle's halls surface at the thought.

And I wonder -- how ethereal must Tess look to him in this moment?

After a couple pats, Tess orders the pup, "Open." It opens its mouth, and Tess places her arm inside the wolf's jaws. Understanding seems to dawn in Helsing's mind a moment too late, "Now, hold on a moment-!" "Snap!" Tess yells.

Helsing lets out a guttural yelp, preparing to leap across the table, as the wolf's jaws SLAM down on Tess's arm- -and stop precisely as its teeth meet her flesh, without so much as a single droplet of blood.

Helsing drops his fork, his eyes wide and mouth agape like a stranded fish. Tess removes her arm, pets the pup, snaps her fingers, and points at the ground. The pup obeys, circling a couple times before lying down facing the door. Since he's still busy gaping, Tess takes the opportunity to add, "I work the night-shift here a few times a week -- just me and my dog. What were you saying about being weak-willed?"

"Why…!" If possible, his eyes have gone even wider. "You really trained this beast? And- and work in a pub while-" "-I RUN the pub. Alone. At night." "Ha!" < Now that was a laugh! > Helsing sits back down. He's returning Tess's grin, and his shoulders are back and head raised. "My apologies, miss…?" "Ciestess. You can call me 'Tess,' if you like." "Miss Ciestess, you may be one of the bravest women I've ever met." "Then I'm afraid you haven't met many women." "Ha!" He picks his fork back up.

"So," Tess leans forward and rests her arms on the table, "Why are you in here eating breakfast for your dinner?"

"Ah, well, that…" He pokes at a piece of meat, but doesn't stab it. His eyes flit between her and his food as he answers, "I'm a doctor, you see. And a patient of mine is suffering from a rather unusual condition. Extremely rare. It requires I look after her throughout the night hours."

"Hm…" Tess feigns worry -- eyebrows raised and pulled together, "What condition? Is it contagious?"

He looks up at her again. "Oh! No, no-ah… Mm, well… Yes, but…" Breaking eye contact, he searches for his knife. Grabbing it, he stabs the meat and cuts it -- with more force than strictly necessary -- into bite-sized pieces. "... It's… It's rather difficult to-... Well, you're unlikely to believe it…"

Tess sits up straight again. "You're a doctor, aren't you? What reason would I have to doubt you?"

"It…" He pauses his cutting, but still doesn't look at her. "Well, I suppose… working throughout the night… you'd be in more danger NOT knowing…" His knife moves again. He's silent until he finishes cutting up the meat. "... Very well. I'll tell you, but you mustn't let word spread, you understand? The truth is…" He looks up again. "She was attacked, you see. By… By a vampire."

"A vampi-oh!" Tess says, then whispers, "A vampire? You're serious?" "I warned you-" "-No no, I believe you, it's just… surprising, to say the least! How do you know that's what happened?"

"She's suffering from a form of anemia -- she doesn't have nearly as much blood as she ought to… As though she's been bleeding from an open wound," He stabs a piece of meat with his fork. "But the only marks on her are some rather distinct bite marks on her arms and neck. And new ones appear every few nights."

Tess mumbles, "So you've been guarding her…"

"Yes, but it doesn't seem to be working. All I can do is try and set up as many obstacles between her and her attacker as possible."

We're interrupted by "Jacob." He sets a glass down in front of Tess: A sweet tea, with no ice. Tess looks at him, genuinely surprised, "You didn't have to-" "I figured you could use a cup of tea. This is still your favorite, right?" < … Jeez, that smile. How am I supposed to say no? > < Why should you? > I counter, doing my best to act as I normally would -- instead of shouting at her to remain cautious, don't trust him, trust anyone BUT him, and whatever you do, don't drink that-! < ... Good point! > Tess smiles back at him, "Thank you."

"Jacob" returns to his table. Tess sips at the sweet tea. < A little too much sugar, but not bad. > "If you don't mind my asking," she mutters, "How did you come to learn so much about vampires? Do they teach all doctors about them?"

Helsing had returned to eating in the brief silence. It takes him a moment to answer. "No, I'm an unusual case in that regard. I… Well, it's a bit of a personal story…" "I don't-" "-Oh, don't apologize, miss. It's actually rather refreshing to be able to talk like this. As some say, the only people you can truly be honest with are complete strangers."

They share laughter for a moment. Helsing's face becomes solemn, his mouth turning down slightly and his brow furrowed. He takes another bite of his eggs, then starts his story. "... I was still new to being a doctor, at the time. I was working with a friend to cure his brother, who was suffering from, what I learned quickly was, an incurable disease." Helsing takes another bite. His food is almost gone. He's staring at the table.

"The night we expected him to die, my friend requested I leave them alone together. So I did. When I returned the next morning, it was to find them both dead-" His nose wrinkles up, and his lip curls. "-my friend lying next to his brother on the bed, a bite on his neck, and his blood on his brother's mouth." He snatches his cup and guzzles it.

He returns it to the table with a clunk -- but continues clutching it. "I was in shock. Confused. But I'd heard of vampires, of course. I could hardly believe it, but the more I studied the scene, the more certain I became that I wasn't mistaken."

He lifts the cup again, but doesn't drink. He's staring at it, instead of the table, now. "So, perhaps a bit mad in my grief, I admit, I took revenge upon my friend's brother's corpse." His voice has gone monotone and, aside from his furrowed eyebrows, his face wears a neutral expression. "I broke the leg off a wooden chair in the corner of the room and stabbed it through the heart. When I did…" His eyes widen slightly, and his words come more slowly. "Those screams will haunt me to the day I die."

He's stopped talking. < What can I say to that? Should I say anything yet? > < … No. We need to stick to the plan- > Musn't give in to the guilt…! < -Xihrae's plan. >

Thankfully, he continues. He hasn't moved even a little during the silence. His voice seems stronger now. "Suspicions confirmed beyond any doubt, I waited for my friend to wake. I suppose I hoped… I'm not sure WHAT I hoped." He finally looks up from the cup. His pupils have dilated, and the area around his eyes is tense. "That he'd be human? That I could cure him? … No. I suppose… The truth is that I needed to see his inhumanity with my own eyes before I could bring myself to do it. To kill him-

"-No," His eyes widen -- the haunted look in them replaced by madness. "No, to SAVE him! A creature like that…" His lip curls and nose wrinkles again.

He growls, "The only salvation left for them- is death!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

[Previous Chapter] - [Next Chapter]

Buy this ebook on Google

#Crossroad Of Infinity #crossroadofinfinity #fantasy #sci-fi #dracula

1 note · View note

chobit92 · 4 years

Text

Home: Jacob Seed/OC Chapter 28

Warnings: Violence, Child Abuse, Rape, Drugs

(2 days later: Friday: Faith is sitting in Joseph’s church arranging flowers into bunches. Joseph is writing in a book. Just then Lexi walks in with a man.). Lexi: Faith your sister has agreed to join us. Faith: What? She has? How do you know? Man: You need to see this. (The man turns on the TV and tunes it to a channel. Faith gasps as she sees Mara on the screen sat in a chair. Her surroundings are dark but she can just make out where she is.). Faith: Is she... Man: John’s bunker. Lexi: Will saw it in the canteen he just came and told us. (Faith stands up and watches as Mara looks at the camera.). John: Are you going to confess? Mara: Yes. John: You will confess and you will atone? Mara: Yes. (Faith watches in shock as John moves into view. Faith gasps as John grabs Mara’s hair and yanks her head back. She then stares as John jams the screwdriver into her sisters neck making her bleed.). Lexi: John ain’t playing. Man: She don’t look too scared though. John: Confess. Mara: Just remember that you asked for it.

(John takes the screwdriver away from Mara’s neck and disappears from view. Mara sighs and looks at the camera.). Mara: Um...I don’t know if there’s a specific way of doing this. Things your meant to say. I’m just gonna start at the beginning. (Joseph is looking at the TV. Will walks in.). Will: Have you seen it? Faith: Yes. I don’t understand why he is broadcasting it. Will: I don’t know. Mara: Some of you may think I’m mad. Some of you might think I’m a monster. Maybe some of you will understand what I did. I was born to parents who did nothing but sell drugs and abuse. My mother always wished that she had just had an abortion. I was never wanted. By her or my father. She kept me locked in the basement. Coming into this bunker today was the hardest thing I’ve done in years. All I can see is that basement. Still hear my mom screaming about what a mistake I am. How useless I am. She believed that I was the devil. Hell maybe she was right. Faith: No sis she wasn’t. (Will rubs Faiths shoulder.). Mara: She would whip me until my back was red raw. She would starve me for days and give me no water. It was dark down there and damp. I was always cold, always hungry and always in pain. Alone in the dark. (Tears roll down Mara’s cheeks. Faith is also crying. Will puts his arm around her.). Will: You know what she did don’t you Faith? Faith: Yes. (Faith lets out a sob and buries her head in Wills Jacket.). Mara: I was never allowed out of the basement because my mother didn’t want anyone to know I existed. In fact nobody did. My mother never told anyone she was pregnant. She never went to a doctor. She gave birth at home. She said it was agony. That I was a little bitch for putting her through so much pain. As if I had somehow decided to be there. She told me that the pain was Gods punishment for giving birth to the devil. She was delusional. Probably all the drugs she took. I was surprised when my father let me out of the basement. It was a strange experience. Being kept underground then suddenly seeing the rest of the house. The window and...Outside. It was confusing. My dad was friends with the priest who used to run the church in Falls End. Some priest he was, turned out he liked children. He liked them a lot. Will: Ah hell. (Joseph is watching the screen with interest.). Mara: I didn’t like him second I saw him. The way he looked at me. The way he spoke. My dad told me to help my mom so I went to the living room. Mom was there and I helped her clean the living room then I was shoved back down in the basement. My sister wasn’t kept in the basement like me. She had her own room. I thought she was loved and cared for. John: You were jealous of her? Mara: No. Worse than that. I was happy for her. I thought she was loved and cared for. She wasn’t. Least in the basement I was left alone most of the time. My baby sister went through hell and I didn’t even know anything about it. I had no clue. That priest came down to the basement one day and started touching me. I had found a large nail, I was using it to draw on the wall. I stuck it in his face, took a load of skin off and left him with a nasty scar. He screamed. My mom came down and got real angry with me. Called me ‘Devil’ again. Then she carved the word into my back. I was six years old. Man: Damn. (Will lets out a breath. Faith is still crying.). Mara: My sister sometimes visited me in the basement. She would sneak me a drink or some food. I remember being so happy that she was okay. She was never dirty, always dressed nice. While my parents were out we would sit and talk to each other for ages. We would play games and cuddle. Over time me and my sister grew close. She was sad that I was kept in the basement. But I looked forward to her visits. When I was a teenager I was finally let out of the basement. I think my mom hoped I would leave the house and not come back. My father told me to piss off to my face. ‘Go on go you little bitch’ he spat. I finally got to see the world. Well...Hope County anyway. It was hard at first. Especially talking to people. But I met some nice people who became my friends. Most people knew who my parents were. They were the ones that dealt drugs to everyone. Even young kids who were still in school. I learned that the drugs my dad sold had already killed two kids. I wondered why the police hadn’t arrested him. Turned out the Sheriff at the time and my dad were best mates. Just like he was best mates with the priest too. Could get away with whatever he wanted. I finally thought that things could be okay. I’d managed to make friends and I was finally out of the basement. I still had to sleep down there though. I thought that once I was a bit older I could take my sister and go. Get our own place together. It’s amazing what you think is possible when you’re a kid. When I was fourteen my sister told me that she was being bullied at school. She showed me bruises on her ribs and a cut on her arm where they’d attacked her. So I went up the school when it finished and waited. I saw my sister walking out and then I saw them. Three of ‘em. One of ‘em grabbed her and pulled her hair while the other one pulled out a little flick knife. I marched over to them and punched the first one. I got the knife off the other one and stuck it in his arm. He was crying like a baby. The other one ran off. Oh my mom was furious when she heard what I’d done. Locked me back in the basement after whipping me again. The boys didn’t bully my sister again though. When I was fifteen my parents went away for the weekend. They took my sister with them and left me on my own. (Mara sighs.). Mara: It was Saturday night and I was looking around the house. I’d found my dad’s whiskey and decided to have some. I was looking around upstairs and that’s when I found them. In my parents’ wardrobe there was a box of tapes. I was curious as to what they were, they didn’t have anything written on them. Curiosity killed the cat though right? I couldn’t believe what I was watching. My baby sister being violated over and over again by my dad and that priest. My mom was there watching. Who does that to their daughter? In the first video she could only be about six. There were over thirty tapes. All filled with images of my baby sister being raped repeatedly. I couldn’t watch it all. I went to the church in Falls End. He looked surprised when he saw me. He looked even more surprised when he saw the kitchen knife I’d bought with me. (Will sighs. Faith is still crying quietly.). Mara: I lost count of how many times I stabbed that dirty raping bastard. I should have cut his dick off. He had this ornate cross on his table. I don’t really know what made me do it but I thought it was fitting. I picked up the cross and shoved it through his chest. Then I went back home. The priest wasn’t found until the morning. Sunday. Church day. Not that day. Church was closed, surrounded by crime scene tape. Who would do such a thing? (Mara laughs.). John: You let your anger take control of you. Your sin is wrath. Mara: Yeah. You can put the screwdriver down though. I ain’t finished yet. I walked around town and listened to what everyone was saying about the grisly murder. I even heard that people were coming forward to say that the priest had abused them. He hadn’t just done it to my sister. He was a paedophile. Not a priest. I ended up hanging out with Wheaty in the woods. I didn’t get home until late. My parents were back by then. They had heard about their beloved friend being killed. My father had lost his temper. He thought it was all my sisters fault. My father was worried that they would find drugs in the church and other things...When I came home my father had beaten my sister so badly I could hardly recognise her. She was curled up in the corner of the lounge sobbing. Her little dress was covered in blood. She had a lot of broken bones, her jaw, her nose. She was broken. So was I, I guess. I was tired. I’d had enough. Seeing my sister like that was awful. I was supposed to protect her. I had one fucking job. I failed. My dad noticed that I was back and he started shouting and swearing at me. Then he said that he would drown me first. Mom was upstairs running the bath. She was going to drown my sister. (Faith is sobbing.). Mara: I wasn’t going to fail her again. I went to the kitchen and got the knife. Same one I used on the priest. I went back to the lounge and my dad just stared at me. I told him I was the one who killed his friend. Gave him what he deserved. He said he always knew I was a head case. That I wasn’t normal. That I was different. A mistake. He said I was nothing but demon spawn. So I thought alright then...I’ll show him then. My father started yelling that I was done for now. He’d drown me himself and nobody would know coz nobody really knew I existed. I then did the unthinkable, the unforgiveable, the ultimate sin. I started stabbing my father. Will: Jesus. Man: My God. Mara: My sister could only watch in horror screaming from the floor as I stabbed daddy again and again. My mother came flying down the stairs and she screamed when she saw what I had done. She pointed at me and screamed ‘I knew it, Devil’. I guess you can’t kill a monster without becoming one. I stabbed my mother repeatedly before slitting her throat. My sister was crying and I hugged her and told her everything was going to be fine. I called an ambulance for my sister. When they saw my parents they were horrified. The police arrived a little while later. My sister was screaming for me. Begging for me not to be taken away. I told her I loved her and that I’d see her again. I thought I was going to prison but oh no. They thought I was insane. They found out I’d killed the priest too. I was placed in a psychiatric facility. I was released when I was eighteen. I was stunned. I never thought I’d see the light of day again. Seemed a bit stupid to me. I told them I’d been locked in a basement for years. So what do they do? Why they lock me in a tiny room of course. Coz that makes sense. I had nowhere to live and no money so...I lived on the streets. I was sleeping in an abandoned apartment block that had turned into a den for junkies and gang members. The leader of the gang was always there dealing drugs. One day though I noticed that he had two young girls handcuffed to an old bed with a rusty frame. I spoke to them. Turned out they had run away from their abusive parents. Sisters. They reminded me so much of my sister and me. They were just trying to get somewhere better. They didn’t though. Ivan was the leader of the local gang. Into all kinds of shit. Nobody messed with him. Those that did ended up dead. One of the girls was seventeen the other was twelve. I didn’t want to get involved. I was on my own and had myself to look out for. But later that night I saw a man in the room with Ivan and the girls. He was handing Ivan a large wad of cash and the girls were crying. Their trousers were around their ankles. Ivan was selling them to dirty pervs. Pimping them out. I weren’t having that. You should know what happened next John. Seeing as you know me well by now. John: You killed them. Mara: Yeah. That’s where I got the revolver from. I took it from Ivan. Then I used it to help the girls escape after stabbing Ivan and the perv. One of Ivan’s mates always watched the door of the crack den. Knew he wouldn’t just let us leave. He had a gun too. He raised it to shoot me but luckily for me I was quicker. Shot him in the head. His blood spattered the wall and I didn’t even care. I still don’t. I gave the girls the money that perv had given to Ivan and told them about a shelter I knew about that wasn’t far. I hope they went there. I hope they were okay. I met Franky not long after and we hung out for a bit just trying to get by on the streets. Until she buggered off. Then I met Bonnie and Alex and stayed with them. I kept looking for my sister. Came here seven years ago then again four years ago. I always hoped to find her. I hoped to see her again and I did. Came back here and met up with her again. Killed more people. Thirteen members of the Whitetail Militia. Also killed that guy that came to your ranch and threatened to shoot us. It gets hard to keep count after a while. I am a killer. That’s it. Now I am going to be that psycho girl again that everyone looks at funny. The girl that killed her parents. Coz you know there must be something wrong with me right? I must be insane. Normal people don’t kill people. Except they seem to forget that way back when they probably did. All the time. People have always killed people. We’re good at destruction. It’s what we do. (Mara finally stops talking. She just sits there looking blank.). John: That is your full confession? Mara: That’s everything. John: No other sins? Mara: Not that I know of. Ain’t got anything to be greedy with and I have no Lust in my life. Ain’t never even had a boyfriend. Never will neither. Not now. Can’t have much pride coz I hate myself. John: Hm. I see. (The camera moves and John’s face can now be seen. He smiles.). John: I told you dear Faith that your sister would join us. That she would say yes. (Faith gasps.). John: You might not want to watch this next part though. (The video feed suddenly disappears and ‘No Signal’ now displays on the blank screen. Faith lets out a whimper and Will wraps his arms around her.

---Jacob sits in the makeshift mess hall of the veterans center. Terry came racing into his office telling him about the broadcast. Everyone sat watching as Mara confessed to John. Jacob couldn’t stop staring at her. He tells himself that he is intrigued by her. The way she has killed without hesitation that’s all that draws him to her. Nothing else. She would probably be no good to him anyway. Not really. Not like his men. She wouldn’t be able to pass the trials. She is pretty though. He can’t deny that. So beautiful. He tries to remember what she felt like. What she smelled like but he can’t. He barely remembers much about that night. Only that he fucked her. That she cried his name and called him a grizzly bear. He gets up and goes back up to his office. He sighs as he flicks through the days reports. He didn’t get much sleep last night and he is tired. He struggles to sleep. He didn’t struggle when Mara was sleeping next to him though. He didn’t have any nightmares either. He sighs and picks up the report about the latest Militia sightings.

---John walks into Josephs church. Faith looks up her eyes red from crying. Joseph stands up and greets him.). Faith: Why did you broadcast it? John: Your sisters confession? I thought you would want to see it. Faith: How did you get here so quickly? John: I didn’t. Faith: But we were just watching you with my sister in your bunker. John: That was filmed two days ago. It wasn’t live. Faith: Two days...Where is she now? John: I don’t know. After her atonement I baptised her in the river. I also gave her the Edens Gate tattoo. She wanted it on the back of her neck. Then she left for the Whitetail Mountains. She said she was going to collect her things then meet up with you in the Henbane. Faith: I haven’t seen her. John: Hm. I’m sure she’ll be back. She wouldn’t leave you. She cares for you too much. Faith: I know.

---11.23pm. Mara stumbles into the bathroom. She groans in pain and wipes the dirty mirror and pulls her top down. She stares at the word ‘Wrath’ carved across her chest. She sighs. Now she hates her body even more. The word ‘Devil’ on her back along with all the scars from the whip now this. Tears sting her eyes. John has serious issues. He enjoyed slicing into her skin. He enjoyed the way she cried out in pain. She didn’t mind the pain. She has found that she likes it. That’s why she cuts herself sometimes. But she didn’t scream though. Wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. She still isn’t sure about John. He seems to honestly believe that he has helped her. Saved her. She almost wishes he had drowned her in the river. For a moment she thought he was going to. He held her under way longer than was necessary. She winces as she runs a damp cloth over her chest. Damn is it sore. She also rubs the back of her neck which itches slightly from the latest tattoo John has given her. The black cross logo of Edens Gate. There’s no going back now. She is officially a member whatever the hell that means. She goes back to the kitchen area and puts her things in her holdall. She doesn’t own much. Her drawings and pens, some clothes and shoes, the iPod that Franky gave her that she can’t charge. She grabs the blanket from the bed and shoves it into the holdall. She just about manages to fit it in there. She then slings the holdall across her body but it rubs against the scarring on her chest. She moves it so that it is over her shoulder. She takes one last look around the trailer. She sighs then opens the door. She stops dead when she sees several militia standing outside with their guns aimed at her.). Man: Time to die peggie bitch!

#Far Cry 5 #My Writing #Writing #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Mara Jessop #Mara Jessop #Faith's sister #Faith Seed #John Seed #Joseph Seed #original characters

4 notes · View notes