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#chapter eighteen
redux-iterum · 10 months
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Burning Hearts: Chapter Eighteen
(AO3 counterpart here.)
The Clan was awake and the camp’s fog fading when Tigerclaw and Fireheart returned. It barely took a heartbeat after Tigerclaw gently lowered Cinderpaw to the ground for a wail to ring through camp. Fireheart jumped out of the way of Willowpelt, Swiftpaw at her heels. Yellowfang joined them, her enormous orange eyes owllike and wet with devastation.
“Cinderpaw!” Willowpelt cried, and repeated the name several times as she tried to shake her daughter awake. Swiftpaw’s gaze was fixed on the crunched-up leg, the blood on it drying and turning black. He looked frozen in place, stiff all the way to the tips of his tail-hairs. 
“Halt,” Yellowfang said, her voice as unstable as her steps. She ducked down to Cinderpaw’s face, sticking a dark paw in front of her mouth. After a pause, she sighed, relieved. “She lives.”
The Clan collectively echoed that sigh, cats crowding around to see the unconscious apprentice. Questions and murmurs of shock buzzed through the air, but one voice cut through the noise and silenced everyone.
“What happened here?” Bluestar strode forward and stood by Willowpelt, who almost sank into her with her trembling legs failing to keep her up.
Fireheart looked up at the leader and swallowed. “She… she thought you were in danger, so she ran out onto the road. I followed her as best I could, but then I lost her, and– and it was so foggy and rainy there, I-I guess she didn’t see in time, or she froze—”
“Fireheart,” Bluestar said gently, in a half-purr.
Fireheart sighed out his anxiety and said more clearly, “A car hit her.”
Reactions rippled out in grief and horror. More than one cat whispered a question about whether Cinderpaw would survive or not. Willowpelt shuddered and crumbled to her belly, burying her nose in Cinderpaw’s neck-fur. Swiftpaw shrank, the picture of a frightened kitten in a thunderstorm.
Bluestar looked at Tigerclaw and asked him, “Did you see it happen?”
Tigerclaw shook his head. “I was in the forest. I just heard her running from a distance and found Fireheart with her.”
“She—” Fireheart piped up, clearing his throat. “She was awake for a moment before I got to her. I think… I think she passed out from the pain.”
“That would be about right.” Yellowfang lifted her head, ears back. “A tom in ShadowClan once lost his tail in the Aulmir. He, too, came home upon a Clanmate’s back.”
Swiftpaw broke out of his frozen state and asked, weak but hopeful, “Then she’ll wake up?”
Yellowfang’s eyes went back down to her apprentice. “If it doesn’t kill her.”
An idea hit Fireheart and he turned back to Bluestar. “Oh! The humans in the Houses, they have a vet. We can bring her there and they can save her, if she’s dying!”
The air turned deeply uncomfortable. Fireheart’s eagerness faltered as he looked to each face he could see and they either turned away or narrowed their eyes.
“What?” he asked, uncertain now. “I mean… I know it’s humans, but they heal cats all the time. Couldn’t we, just this once…?”
Bluestar shook her head. “If we have no other option, we may. But a human putting their paws on her could take her away forever, if they decide to do so. We cannot risk losing her if she can heal here.”
“Oh,” Fireheart said, looking down, crestfallen. “Well, if you change your mind…”
By their faces, no one seemed as if they would change their mind soon.
“It’ll be okay,” Goldenflower said, maneuvering to sit by Swiftpaw, who mimicked his mother and leaned against the large support. “She’ll wake up. I’m sure of it.”
Tigerclaw’s eyes had been down this whole time, but he lifted them to look at Willowpelt and murmur, “I’m sorry.”
Willowpelt didn’t respond. No one did.
--
A couple days passed, with Cinderpaw sometimes drifting into consciousness and then falling back into her uneasy slumber. Any time she was awake, she would whine out a purr, as if she was trying to soothe herself, and then slip away again.
“We really should take her to a vet,” Fireheart muttered, watching Swiftpaw nose his sister’s ear. “She could be dying.”
Ravenwing, sitting next to him, sighed. “It looks bad, yeah. But if she was going to die, I think she would have by now. StarClan’s healing her the best they can while she rests.”
Fireheart’s tail twitched. “They need to wake her up soon, then, or I’ll drag her to the Houses myself.”
StarClan must have heard him, because later that night, a groggy, incoherent murmur jolted everyone in camp from their resting and eating. Fireheart jumped up as Cinderpaw lifted her head and looked around, blinking sleepily.
“Huh,” she rasped.
Yellowfang, half-asleep as she sat by the apprentice, started and stared down at her, mouth open.
“Cinderpaw!” Swiftpaw dropped the mouse he had just picked up out of the prey-pile and scrambled over the sand to get to his sister’s side. “You’re awake!”
“Yyyeah…” Cinderpaw squeezed her eyes shut, like everything around her was too bright. “So I din’ die?”
“Fool girl, you nearly could have!” Yellowfang cuffed her ear—though, Fireheart noted, much more gently than she had him all those months ago. “What in blazing told you to run onto the road?”
Cinderpaw’s answer was delayed, and she showed no reaction to the cuff. “Um… Bluestar wasss there? I think? I’m hungry.”
Yellowfang grumbled a sigh, but there was no bite in it. She looked at Teaselfoot. “Fetch Willowpelt. She’s close by.”
Teaselfoot wasted no time, racing out of camp and shouting Willowpelt’s name. Cats came up one by one to greet Cinderpaw and ensure she was truly awake and feeling alright. Cinderpaw, slowly growing more present with each question, answered casually and with sleepy cheerfulness. It took someone asking about her leg for her to finally look its way and blink in surprise.
“Welp.” She twitched it and grimaced in pain. “I was wondering how I survived. Guess it was just my leg.”
“And part of your tail,” Fireheart said, nodding to her crooked tail-tip. “You got really lucky, all things considered. I thought it had hit you full-on.”
Cinderpaw lifted up her tail and scrutinized it. “No kidding. Good thing I’m a seer, too, or hunting would be really hard.”
Willowpelt rushed into camp and hovered over her daughter, fussing and grooming the top of her head, purring like thunder. Cinderpaw was inappropriately amused, assuring her mother over and over that she was fine and just wanted food. In the end, Fireheart had to bring her something himself, as her family and mentor didn’t want to leave her side for a heartbeat.
That pattern followed for several days. Fireheart ended up helping Swiftpaw with his chores again here and there so he could visit with Cinderpaw more, and Willowpelt had to be pressed to get back to patrolling and hunting as she hovered around her kit and watched her leg like a hawk. Yellowfang, to Fireheart’s surprise and joy, stuck close by Cinderpaw, even sleeping at her side when daylight rolled around and her family were guided to their dens.
One night, Whitecloud came up to Fireheart, who was half-asleep, his nose hovering over his mole without a bite taken. He politely cleared his throat to get the younger warrior’s attention, which woke Fireheart up quickly.
“I hate to interrupt your meal,” Whitecloud said, his voice soft as ever. “I was going to ask something of you once you’ve eaten.”
“Oh– sure, sir.” Fireheart shook himself to alertness and sat up straight. “What can I help with?”
Whitecloud tilted his head towards Cinderpaw, her mother and Yellowfang sitting by her and conversing quietly. “I’m worried about our seer. She’s been sticking so close to Cinderpaw that StarClan may have spoken to her and she hasn’t noticed. I understand, of course, but I’m a bit worried that our eye to our ancestors is shut.”
Fireheart squinted a bit, trying to figure out where he was going with this, before he perked up. “Oh, I see. Do you want me to talk to her, then?”
Whitecloud nodded. “You’re the one other cat she actually likes.” His whiskers twitched. “As far as I know. If you could…”
“Not a problem at all!” Fireheart glanced down at his mole. “I can, um, eat first, though, right?”
“Of course, of course. Do as you like. Thank you, Fireheart.” Whitecloud waved his tail and turned away, walking to Ravenwing and Patchpelt, who were sitting together, and saying something quiet to them.
Fireheart worked on his breakfast, hardly even taking time to enjoy the chewy feet before standing up, licking his chops, and making his way over to the mollies sitting by the stump.
“How are things?” he asked cheerfully when he was close enough to get their attention without sneaking up on them.
Willowpelt looked up in surprise anyway, but Cinderpaw had seen him coming and bobbed her head, replying with the same cheer.
“I’m ready to be outside again,” she said, giving her mentor a joking squint of one eye. “But Yellowfang here says I need to wait until my leg heals. I tried telling her it won’t—”
“Enough of that, love,” Willowpelt said, the slightest edge in her voice. “You’ll heal.”
“Mira*, look at my dumb leg.” Cinderpaw reached back with a front paw to pat at the crushed limb and winced. “There’s no way. So much as twitching it feels like murder; I’m not walking on it anymore.” She beamed at Fireheart. “I’ll be like Yellowfang, get a new name. Hobblefoot sounds fun—what do you think?”
“Well…” Fireheart shuffled his feet a little at the warning glare Willowpelt was giving him. “I mean, it’s more than your foot, isn’t it?”
“Ah, true.” Cinderpaw hummed thoughtfully.
“You’re not getting a rename,” Willowpelt said sharply. “You’ll be fine.”
“It’s not up to you,” Cinderpaw said in a sing-song voice. Her mother turned her glare on her and she blinked. “What? I’m an apprentice, I can decide if I want a rename. Yellowfang, if I wanted a rename, you’d give me one, right?”
Yellowfang huffed a sigh, more affectionate than annoyed. “Lest you go to the Mother and change it yourself, yes.”
“See?” Cinderpaw gave her mother a “so there” nod.
“She won’t need a rename.” Willowpelt’s annoyance faltered as she looked almost desperately at Yellowfang. “She’ll be able to walk on it again, won’t she?”
Surprisingly, there was no answer. Yellowfang’s eyes were far away in thought.
“You haven’t been talking to StarClan about this, have you?” Fireheart asked softly. “Or at all.”
Yellowfang jerked back to reality and gave him a snort. “I speak well and fine with them.”
“Well, look—” Fireheart lowered his head a little in a show of respect. “You haven’t left Cinderpaw’s side since she came home. Why don’t you and I take a walk, and we can look for anything StarClan’s been wanting to tell you together?”
Yellowfang’s lower jaw stuck out to one side as she squinted at him. “Someone told you to get me out of camp, didn’t they?”
Fireheart nodded sheepishly.
The seer gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, fine. I might as well stretch my legs.” She bopped Cinderpaw’s head with her tail. “Dare not to die while I’m gone.”
“No promises!” Cinderpaw trilled at the dark look her mentor gave her.
Fireheart led the way to the camp entrance, careful to walk slow enough to not force Yellowfang to trot on her limping leg. They departed quickly and, at Fireheart’s suggestion, took a path towards the Houses. Foggy spots here and there made it hard to gauge the distance they were going, making Fireheart a little itchy as he tried to feel out how close they were to his sister’s home.
“You’re thinking,” Yellowfang said eventually. “Stop that.”
Fireheart blinked stupidly and looked over at her. “Sorry?”
“Something troubles your simple mind.” She stuck out her jaw. “I know that face. Don’t lie.”
Fireheart hesitated. Should he admit to her about Rosy? Or was she thinking of—
“Your friends, I assume,” she said. “The fat one and the coward.”
Fireheart shot her a stern look.
“Ha.” She smirked. “I joke, boy, ease yourself. Even with my fool busying me, I see how they avoid each other.”
Without any words to counter her, Fireheart bowed his head with a heavy breath. “They’re still not talking. I don’t know what to do.”
“Easy,” Yellowfang said. “You do nothing. That’s their trouble. You stay out of it. Spend time with others.”
“Like you spend time with them?” Fireheart asked innocently, and received a swat to his shoulder in response. “I’m not wrong, am I? You only really talk to Bluestar and Cinderpaw. And me, sometimes.”
“Hrmph.” Yellowfang hobbled past him. “You and Cinderpaw are the only ones with anything interesting to say. And our leader is all business. Never a jovial chat with her.” Her bottom teeth glimmered as moonlight hit them. “Always jovial with the girl, though.”
Fireheart hummed in amusement, following her at a stroll. His ear turned sideways as concern plucked at his chest. “Do you think she’ll be alright? StarClan won’t take her?”
Yellowfang’s shredded ears flattened against her skull and her voice became as gravely as it was when he’d first met her, starving and wounded. “They’ll have to tear out my claws and teeth to try.”
Fireheart stopped walking, staring at Yellowfang with surprise—and, of course, fondness. She must have heard him pause, because she looked back at him and stopped too. Her face was not surprised or fond; it was sagging with troubles as her eye sank to a dead blade of grass by her foot.
“I’ve dreamed of it,” she said quietly. “A sense of loss, of danger, as I rest beside her. I cannot see what it is. StarClan gifts me these feelings and tells me to piss off when I seek details.”
Fireheart’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry. That can’t be easy.”
“Ach.” Yellowfang’s face hardened for a moment. “She spoke true; something is happening, and I know not what. Cinderpaw has not lost her leg, only broken it. Nor has she lost her life. The danger was not that car, this I know.” Her face turned downward, her tail switching back and forth. “I cloud my mind, perhaps, thinking solely of my fool. Mayhaps I should walk more.”
Fireheart took a few steps to stand beside her, offering a supportive expression and a muted purr. “I think you should. It’s not good for anyone to sit and stew on one problem for so long.” He put a great amount of kindness in his voice. “We’re all looking after her, Yellowfang. You and Willowpelt and Swiftpaw aren’t alone. You can take breaks, and we’ll be there to watch her. If not one cat, then someone else. Like you said—StarClan’s not taking her without a fight. We’ll all make sure of that.”
He watched with great relief as some of the tension left her body. Her tail lowered and loosened and her fur smoothed out with one slow breath. She raised her flat face to him, her eyes now creased instead of squinted.
“You’re a good one,” she croaked. “Always knowing what to say.”
Fireheart rolled a shoulder, a bit shy now. “Just trying to help, that’s all.”
Yellowfang snorted. Then her ears pricked as well as they could and she turned her head forward again. Fireheart followed her line of sight to see a squirrel scratching at the ground.
“Try to catch that,” Yellowfang whispered. “Hurry, now.”
Fireheart obeyed immediately; ducking into a crouch, he prowled forward, careful to keep his belly from scraping at a root cropping out of the ground. The squirrel was so preoccupied that it didn’t notice when Fireheart’s paw brushed a fallen leaf.
However, it did notice when he jumped, and it dashed away with surprising speed as he landed on its little dug-up mound. Something like a large pebble rolled against his paw and made him stumble sideways, nearly toppling over in the front end. The squirrel was gone by the time he stood up. He huffed in irritation.
“It was a fat one, too,” he said, looking back at Yellowfang. “Sorry.”
“Apologize not.” Yellowfang came up to join him. “That was part of it. What did it dig for?”
Fireheart glanced down at where his paw had rolled. Brushing away a bit of dirt, he found a round, silver bell.
“Weird,” he said. “I didn’t think squirrels liked these.”
“A bell, is it?” Yellowfang frowned at it. “Move, boy, let me see it better.”
Fireheart obeyed, watching from further off as Yellowfang turned it over and examined it. The bell wasn’t perfect: it was dented on one side, and even from here the scratches on it were visible.
“Curious, curious…” Yellowfang murmured, rotating it again.
“Do you know what it means?” Fireheart asked.
Yellowfang gave it another once-over before huffing. “It tells me something that I do not know. This sign is not for me.”
Fireheart blinked. “Then… who is it for?”
“Come sniff it for me. You might be able to tell.”
Again, obediently, Fireheart joined her. He put his nose close to the bell and sniffed it. It certainly was familiar, but not a familiar he was too happy about.
“Hm?” Yellowfang scrutinized his face.
“I…” Fireheart straightened up. “I smelled wet food, like from the Houses. Kind of. It’s faint, but…”
“Hm.”
“That’s all, sorry.”
Yellowfang grumbled something under her breath before saying aloud, “Well, I’ll think on it as I rest this morning. Come. We return home.”
Fireheart made no protest, walking after her as her head turned this way and that, like she was searching for more signs. He didn’t tell her what that smell was closer to, in his memory.
He needed to have a conversation with Greystripe.
   *”Mira”: mother.
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ericshoney · 8 months
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The Mafia Boss ~ Chapter eighteen
Sunghoon's POV
I head on outside to see Jay leaning against my Jeep, playing on his phone. I clear my throat, making him look at me.
"Ready to go boss?" He calls cheekily.
"One, don't lean on my car. Two, drop the sass." I said, getting in the drivers seat.
Jay just laughs and gets in as I start the engine. I begin driving to the address Lia gave me on the letter.
"So, did you talk to Y/n?" Jay asks.
"Yeah, just now. She agrees with all of you about Beatrix." I said, my eyes focused on the dark road.
"So you gonna talk to Bea?" He asks.
"I will tomorrow." I said.
"I'm glad your not drinking as much either." He mentions.
"I cut back for everyone. I'm not giving up though." I reply.
"I never said you had to, just happy your cutting back." He replies.
Jay then falls quiet as I continue driving. I doesn't take long before the sat nav tells me we've arrived at the destination. When we pull up, I see a run down warehouse. Jay hops out, holding his gun.
"Is this a joke?" He calls.
"I don't know, stay alert." I order. 
He gives a short nod and we search the area, there doesn't seem to be anybody around. Jay and I walk opposite ways around the outside of the warehouse before walking inside. As we do, we see nothing but a briefcase in the middle on a small table.
"What is that?" Jay asks, walking over.
"No idea, be careful." I said.
We walk closer and as we approach, it looks like a normal briefcase. Jay quickly flicks it open, both of us seeing a note saying sucker.
"The hell is this!" Jay shouts.
Both of our phone then beep, we pull them out and see an alert from the alarms at home. I realise there are people walking around the the grounds who don't have to codes to the alarms.
"We need to get home now." I said, rushing to my car.
We both hop in and I drive quickly. Breaking every speeding law possible. I then speed into the driveway, the tires squealing as I hit the breaks to stop outside the front door. I hop out the car before Jay and run into the house, my gun pointed.
"Hey bitches we have arrived!" Jay shouts as he runs in behind me.
Both of us stand frozen as we see the ITZY members knocked out unconscious on the floor, their hands tied behind their backs.
"Oh hey, how did your meeting go?" Y/n calls from the sofa.
"We got called a sucker by a piece of paper, you tell us how it went." Jay sarcastically replies.
"What happened here?" I ask.
"We were chilling, about to watch a movie, when we heard glass breaking. After a bit of fighting and swearing, we knocked our unwanted guests out and waited for you to arrive." Jake answers.
"Okay, take them down to the basement." I tell them. All of them going to take the girls.
"Keep Lia separate." Y/n said.
"Why love?" I ask.
"I want to talk to her." She answers. I nod, looking at the others.
"You heard the lady." I said, they laugh as Y/n smiles.
I sit on the sofa with my girlfriend and sister, happy none of them were hurt tonight.
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balshumetsbaragouin · 3 months
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Alright people! We have officially hit the point of finishing Act Two! Inside, Danny gets a little time to hang out with Ohm, and then confronts Valerie.
This last bit is going to catapult us into the Third Act with a bang!
Still aren't convinced? Have a sample of the latest chapter below:
Danny watched the citizens of Amity Park, all dressed in colorful festive sweaters and juggling freshly purchased packages, rush in and out of the Beverley Mall. The entire area glowed with a blanket of holiday cheer, taking on the colors of the strung lights twinkling in the darkness of the night. At the front of the Mall sat the baskets for various charity drives, bell-ringing volunteers wearing Santa hats, as shoppers tossed change or reached deeper into their wallets to fill the baskets to bursting. One of the baskets bore the name of the fund the city had created to aid people with recovery after the curse finished disrupting tech throughout the greater Amity area. That one saw more donations than others, the teens manning the table and ringing the bells doing their best to draw attention to the cause and spread the word of the organization’s purpose. Although it had been commissioned to handle the cleanup following the outbreak, because of the severity and length of the event, the town finally gave in to the need for a more permanent local relief fund. Donations would travel to needy families throughout Amity for the techpocalypse, all the cash earmarked until the end of the year to aid business owners and suburban families alike, before they reconvened in the new year to set up a budget to plan for common disasters. 
His friends planned to sunset the website, and its toxic forums, by the end of December and hand the domain over to the new charity. Good riddance in his opinion. If he had to read through one more of Dash’s Phantom rants to ban the asshole after January first, he’d blow up the other boy’s laptop. The Baxter’s were rich enough to buy him a new one the next day, but the catharsis would be worth its weight in gold. He’d told Sam and Tucker that Dash owned the GhostTeen account, and skipped over everything else to do with that night in terms of their conversation. He’d shown them the advertising packet, and shoved the fan mail into the bottom of his drawer. He’d burn it this weekend now that everything calmed down; he just hadn’t had a chance. 
They were going over it together on the phones as he did patrol. Unfortunately, Team Phantom agreed Dash did have some brains between the bones of his skull, because the designs for the line and the plans for launch were actually good. Once they’d started going through the papers in detail, he’d realized Dash oversold the input from Ms. Avery or anyone else. Everything carried the fingerprints of his direct involvement, with meticulous attention to even the tiniest bit of information he knew about Phantom. It still landed somewhere between creepy and awe-inspiring. Not the good kind like ‘awesome’, but the bad kind like ‘Biblical down-pouring of fire by the Old Testament God’. If the dude’s brains had enough wherewithal to come up with all of this, then he shouldn’t be flunking school. Once again, he wished he’d focus more of the fanaticism into passing Sophomore year and less into the basketball season as he tried to put the team on his back and carry them back to state. “I actually like the designs for the hoodie. I kinda want one, which is saying something, because I know Dash made it.”
“He’s got a mind for fashion and graphic design. It’s weird he doesn’t take more art classes.” Sam had a digital copy on her computer, Tucker too. He’d scanned them the previous weekend. 
“I bet he’d call it ‘gay’ if he did take them. You heard how much he complained about dance classes. Those things are just exercising to a beat. It’s more like athletics than performing art,” Tucker said.
“Dash thinks everything is gay. At least, everything he hates,” Sam pointed out. He tried not to wince at the topic of conversation, refocusing on the jaunty Christmas music and excited children dancing along below. 
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renee-writer · 10 months
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What If It Were Brian Chapter Eighteen
AO3
Jenny waits until all is quiet to knock. She could get on him for letting the household know what they were about but… No. He is due some happiness. Jamie had been a shell of himself and is whole again.
 
Jamie mumbles as he raises, his face flushed from loving, his hair disarrayed. He pulls his breaks back on as Claire  rouses enough to pull on her shift.
 
“What is it?” He demands as he opens the door.
 
She grins. “Your son is awake.” Announced as she enters the room. “Claire shall I help you with your dressing?”
 
She feels no shame just a sense of rightness as she nods. Brian! He baby boy will be confused. She needs to get to him.
 
Jamie’s heart jumps further. His son! Claire and their child are back in his life, for good. He finds his shirt among the scattered clothing and pulls it on.
 
“I shall see to him, Sassanach.” He runs his hands through his hair, soothing it somewhat as he hurries out the room.
 
“Jenny I… ah we, didn’t disturb the house, did we?”
 
“Dinna fash. It is good that you fully healed him. He has been just existing. Now, he is whole again, as are you, I suspect?”
 
She smiles as her good sister helps her dress. That she is. Indeed.
 
“Brian, mo mhac.” The lad sits up in the bed, his hair almost as disheveled as his daddy’s .
 
“Daddy, where mama?”
 
“She will be here soon. Did you have a good nap?” He takes a seat beside him and Brian crawls into his lap. His heart leaps as he wraps his arms around him.
 
“Uh huh. It was a long ways here. No cars.”
 
He strokes his soft curls. He wants to know all about his time but first, he longs to know about him.  “No, but was the buggy ride fun?”
 
“At first.” He snuggles close, “You smell like horses.”
 
Jamie chuckles. “I suspect I do,” he is glad the lad isn’t old enough to pick up the other smells, “Do you like horses?
 
“I think so. I was never around them before. Father, mama, and I lived in the city, Boston.”
 
“What did you like to do there?”
 
“I liked the museum. It has so much stuff from the past,” He frowns, “one time we went and mama saw something that made her cry. Father saw and told her, ‘ not to be foolish, Claire.’ Do you think it is foolish to cry daddy?”
 
“No Brian. Everyone has to cry sometimes. Emotions get all built up. God let’s them come out through our tears.”
 
He is satisfied with that and nods to himself. “I think so too. Oh, we went to the zoo once. I saw an elephant.”
 
Jamie pantomimes huge shock. “A real elephant!”
 
“Yes, with the big tusks and everything. Mama said she rode one once. I wasn’t allowed too through,” a sigh, “It was good just to see it though.”
 
“I can’t help you ride an elephant but, I can teach you to ride a horse.”
 
His son’s eyes get big. “Really! Truly!”
 
“Aye, really and truly.” He stands, carrying Brian in his arms, “Let’s go find your mama.”
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18. DRESS SHOPPING
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ALANA WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE WEATHER THE NEXT DAY. IT WAS POURING OF RAIN. I found it comforting against my cold skin; no feelings from the rain whatsoever. There was more rain in London than there was in Forks.
We travelled to the London City Centre in the Mercedes with the girls. That was odd to me. I didn't have many friends to go out with. I mean, Bella was my friend. I could tolerate Angela and then there was Jessica. I would say that she was the most annoying one out of the group and easily gets jealous of Edward and Bella being together twenty-four-seven.
Yet I still remember my last night as a human with Bella.
We were hanging out in her bedroom while her dad, Charlie, was out doing his daily shift as chief police.
"I'm not a university sort of person," I said and Bella looked out through the window. She turned around and began walking to me. "I have been told to just get a job, pay your bills and take care of yourself."
She sat down on her chair close to her bed which I laid on. She was looking conflicted. We sat in silence until I spoke. "Something's wrong?"
"No," Bella said, shaking her head. "Why?"
"Well, one, Edward is always with you and two, you keep looking at that window like you're hoping he'll show up in a Mercedes or something." I chuckled.
"I don't think he has a Mercedes," she sighed.
We resumed in silence for a brief moment.
"That's fine," I sighed. "You don't have to talk about it."
"It's nothing," Bella replied. "I mean, it is, but... Okay, you remember Jacob Black?"
I leaned my head back and looked at her. "Oh, okay. Edward's jealous."
"You said it as if it's obvious."
"Well, it is." I rose from her bed and looked at her. "Edward's in love with you and so does Jacob. You love them for different reasons but they don't see it. They don't understand each other. You're in a love triangle, Bella, and they want to be yours forever."
Bella chuckled at the word 'forever'.
"They want to be your number one," I continued. "But in their mind, they want to be the winner. At the end of the day, they're still human."
She sighed when I finished. "You sound like a relationship guru," she said to me. "Yet you've never been in one."
"I watch a lot of daytime television," I replied and we laughed about it.
I could see the irony in that conversation with Bella that last night. Edward was a vampire, not human. And she will spend her life with him forever, in a way. I wondered how Jacob would be during the wedding. Was he even invited? If he was, this would be a lot awkward for him. Watching the girl you love getting married to someone else. It would tear his heart apart. I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't invited.
I watched and heard the rain thumping down on the car as Helena drove. Rhona sat on the passenger seat beside Helena and Alana sat next to me at the back. Kind of reminded me of when the men were when they picked me up from the airport.
"You're getting this deja-vu feeling?" Rhona asked me.
"What?" I turned away from the car window and looked at her.
"Deja-vu?" she repeated. "I was watching your memories and I saw our specific guys in the same sitting positions as we are." Rhona laughed at the end.
"Yeah, exactly," I replied. Then, I wondered about their ages. "How old were you all when you got turned?"
"I was twenty-seven," Helena answered me. "Now I'm two hundred and eighty-two
"Twenty-five," Rhona said next. "Real age, eighty-two."
"And I was twenty-four," Alana replied. "Just turned eighty-three."
I didn't realise how close Alana and Rhona were when it comes to the age and time of the vampiric transformation.
"I'm the baby," I commented. "I'm seventeen and have been a newborn for... how long?"
"Eight months," Helena replied. "You were five months old when you arrived."
"Hey, remembering is my thing," said Rhona and we laughed.
We arrived at the city centre twenty minutes later and Helena parked in the shopping centre car park. We got out of the Mercedes and headed to the shopping centre. There were many shops to choose from: Dress 2 Party, Phase Eight, Suzannah, and more.
The rain wasn't as bad as I thought. It was light showers and the clouds blocked the sun.
"What is it with dresses nowadays?" Helena said.
"I know," Alana replied. "The styling is so confusing."
"What's wrong with it?" I asked.
"Dresses way above the knees," Helena continued. "What has become of women's clothes? I missed my style. Shoulders covered, skirts that touched the floors, the chest that is not too distracting, the fan that I would hold to wave to the men and give them signals."
I completely forgot that we were from different generations.
"How far do you want us to go?" Rhona said. "Do you still want all of us to vote and have equality?"
"She does have a fair point," Alana commented and I couldn't help but laugh.
We had been in the city centre for the past three hours when the sun decided to show up in the sky. We did manage to get the dresses that we like to wear for the wedding.
Helena picked out a red lace dress with a skirt just past her knees with a V-line on her chest and sleeves down to her elbows. She bought herself a pair of red high-heels to go with the dress.
Alana got herself a navy blue dress with a silver cuff on the side. The skirt was above her knees and the sleeves were barely past her elbows. She also got a pair of blue heels for the dress.
Rhona bought a beige dress with puffy sleeves to her wrist, a small opening at the chest and a skirt above her knees. She got a pair of beige heels to wear for the wedding.
And finally, for me, I got a fitted black dress with see-through black sleeves and the skirt was way above my knees. I bought a pair of black pump shoes for the wedding.
And I got to admit, I loved going shopping with them.
We got home before the sun could touch us.
Continue to 19. THE WEDDING
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capricorn-0mnikorn · 2 years
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📖Persuasion📖 Listen- and Read-Along, Chapter  Eighteen
(Doing as many chapters as I have stamina for, each time. Today, it’s one)
Discussion of Chapters Sixteen and Seventeen Starts Here.
Audio of Karen Savage’s LibriVox Reading on YouTube, starting at Chapter 18,  (~ 21 minutes at normal speed)
Moira Fogarty’s reading at LibriVox  (~ 24 minutes)
Text of Chapter Eighteen and Chapter Nineteen at Project Gutenberg.
Synopses:
Chapter 18: Sometime in early February, Anne receives a long letter from Mary, delivered to Camden Place with the compliments of Admiral and Mrs. Croft, who have come to stay awhile in Bath to treat the Admiral’s gout (Disability Representation Count: Eight). In that letter, Mary reveals that Louisa and Captain Benwick have decided to get married, and that Captain Wentworth has “quit the field.” Anne finds herself a bit ashamed at her audacity to feel hopeful that she has a second chance with him.
Quotes that stood out:
“What is this?” cried Sir Walter. “The Crofts have arrived in Bath? The Crofts who rent Kellynch? What have they brought you?”
“A letter from Uppercross Cottage, Sir.”
“Oh! those letters are convenient passports. They secure an introduction. I should have visited Admiral Croft, however, at any rate. I know what is due to my tenant.”
Interesting that Sir Walter seems to hold Admiral Croft in less contempt than he did at the beginning of the novel. Perhaps moving around “Society” in Bath, rather than limiting himself to the drawing rooms of Kellynch Hall, he’s seen how much the officers of the navy are respected, having helped win the war, and all...
From Mary’s letter:
The house was cleared yesterday, except of the little Harvilles; but you will be surprised to hear they have never gone home. Mrs Harville must be an odd mother to part with them so long. I do not understand it.
Vs. several sentences later:
Does [Mrs. Clay] never mean to go away? But perhaps if she were to leave the room vacant, we might not be invited. Let me know what you think of this. I do not expect my children to be asked, you know. I can leave them at the Great House very well, for a month or six weeks.
And:
I do not think [The Crofts] improve at all as neighbours. We see nothing of them, and this is really an instance of gross inattention. Charles joins me in love, and everything proper.
Vs. a few days later:
I had a note from Mrs Croft yesterday, offering to convey anything to you; a very kind, friendly note indeed, addressed to me, just as it ought; I shall therefore be able to make my letter as long as I like. The Admiral does not seem very ill, and I sincerely hope Bath will do him all the good he wants. I shall be truly glad to have them back again. Our neighbourhood cannot spare such a pleasant family.
We can certainly see where Mary’s priorities lie. Jane Austen = Master of Showing in narrative, from her character’s own voices.
Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove! The high-spirited, joyous-talking Louisa Musgrove, and the dejected, thinking, feeling, reading, Captain Benwick, seemed each of them everything that would not suit the other. Their minds most dissimilar! Where could have been the attraction? The answer soon presented itself. It had been in situation. They had been thrown together several weeks; they had been living in the same small family party: since Henrietta’s coming away, they must have been depending almost entirely on each other, and Louisa, just recovering from illness, had been in an interesting state, and Captain Benwick was not inconsolable. That was a point which Anne had not been able to avoid suspecting before; and instead of drawing the same conclusion as Mary, from the present course of events, they served only to confirm the idea of his having felt some dawning of tenderness toward herself. She did not mean, however, to derive much more from it to gratify her vanity, than Mary might have allowed. She was persuaded that any tolerably pleasing young woman who had listened and seemed to feel for him would have received the same compliment. He had an affectionate heart. He must love somebody.
I love that “He had an affectionate heart. He must love somebody.” It seems like everyone is judging him harshly for moving on too quickly after Fanny’s death. But you can only pour your heart into the grave for so long before you crave someone living who can give that love back to you.
The Crofts knew quite as many people in Bath as they wished for, and considered their intercourse with the Elliots as a mere matter of form, and not in the least likely to afford them any pleasure. They brought with them their country habit of being almost always together. He was ordered to walk to keep off the gout, and Mrs Croft seemed to go shares with him in everything, and to walk for her life to do him good. Anne saw them wherever she went. Lady Russell took her out in her carriage almost every morning, and she never failed to think of them, and never failed to see them. Knowing their feelings as she did, it was a most attractive picture of happiness to her. She always watched them as long as she could, delighted to fancy she understood what they might be talking of, as they walked along in happy independence, or equally delighted to see the Admiral’s hearty shake of the hand when he encountered an old friend, and observe their eagerness of conversation when occasionally forming into a little knot of the navy, Mrs Croft looking as intelligent and keen as any of the officers around her.
A concise comparison between Navy Culture and Aristocratic Culture. The Aristocrats socialize by traveling to and from each other’s lodgings in carriages (which is a way to so off their wealth), and having private dinner parties. Navy people greet each other and socialize on the street, wherever they happen to be.
“Well, now you shall hear something that will surprise you. But first of all, you must tell me the name of the young lady I am going to talk about. That young lady, you know, that we have all been so concerned for. The Miss Musgrove, that all this has been happening to. Her Christian name: I always forget her Christian name.”
Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so soon as she really did; but now she could safely suggest the name of “Louisa.”
“Ay, ay, Miss Louisa Musgrove, that is the name. I wish young ladies had not such a number of fine Christian names. I should never be out if they were all Sophys, or something of that sort.
I love the Admiral! I love the Crofts’ relationship!
💞⚓
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andiinaraethtash · 2 years
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Chapter 18: The Way It Used to Be Is So Far Gone
Notes:
Hiiii, everybody. Yeah. It's been a month. In my defense, real life has been busy, I went on vacation, and I got a really bad case of Moon Knight brainrot. Seriously, I've got three more wips just from watching that show. Why me. Anyway, here's the next chapter. I don't know how many people actually care about this fic, but I do, and I want to finish it for me. So there. TW: Allusions to Xornoth driving people insane and making them kill each other. That's it, that's the worst it gets.
Shrub would like to say that this day has been full of surprises, and not necessarily in a good way. She’s awakened by her woodpecker, who for no apparent reason is trilling loudly in an alarmed way. When she looks around, trying to determine why it’s creating such a racket, she finds something out of place, but it’s not a dangerous thing. Instead, it’s a series of small mushrooms, spread out from her nether portal.
Naturally, she has to investigate.
Her vision clears from the purple of the portal and her breath is taken away, because she recognizes this landscape. This landscape is home. The giant mushrooms, the small streams and gurgling waterfalls, it’s all home.
As soon as she stumbles away from the portal, she looks around, desperate for any hint of corruption, or, on a brighter hope, her people. Aside from the wind in the leaves and the flow of water, there’s no movement, but there’s none of the blood red that has haunted her dreams since she fled to the land of the empires, no pulsating corruption or crazed screams from her people driven to the brink of sanity.
Feeling like it’s going to disappear if she blinks, she holds her breath, not daring to take more than a few hesitant steps forward until her vision starts greying out and she feels like she’s going to pass out. Then, and only then, does she take a deep breath, and is pleasantly surprised when the scene in front of her doesn’t change.
The portal had led her out onto a covered bridge, and she rests her hand against one of the posts, marvelling at the familiar texture. She’s pretty sure she even knows where she is, and, without thinking about it, she starts running to the top of the hill ahead of her. Sure enough, in the distance, nestled in the valley below her, she can see the little mushroom farmhouse that had been home for so long.
She wants to run to it, wants to throw open the door and fall into her mother’s embrace, wants to be gathered up in her father’s arms and hear him promise that they’ll never leave her alone. She even stumbles a step in that direction, before realising what is so wrong about the landscape around her.
It’s quiet, still. Abandoned. There’s no birds in the trees, no calls of wildlife, no footsteps from the livestock wandering around in their pens.
No people.
As soon as she realises that, the landscape becomes almost alien, foreign to her despite the familiarity aching in her bones. Shrub has to take several deep, slow breaths to stave off a panic attack. Without her people, her home is dead (like her people, her friends and family, might be), and that is so wrong, so terribly wrong that it is triggering something deep within her to want to scream and cry and fall apart.
She falls to her knees, fingers splayed out onto the moss and burrowing into it. It’s cool, spongy almost, and it helps ground her, because home or not, it’s familiar, something both her old world and her new one have in common.
After a few more deep, steadying breaths, she pushes herself to her feet. Her people might not be here, but they have to be somewhere. There’s no bodies, or traces of bodies either, so they must have run somewhere. They had to have, right?
A treacherous part of her whispers, unless Xornoth managed to corrupt them all, and she struggles to shut that part of herself down. They can’t all have fallen. There’s no way.
But then she remembers the haze of fear that had swamped her as she ran, and red eyes and gasping for breath, and friends who had become enemies, and she has to admit, there is every possibility there’s no one left to track down.
But she won’t know until she tries. First, though, she needs some gear, and so she reluctantly turns back to her portal. She has to blink back tears as the purple haze clouds her vision, then stumbles as she steps back out into the Undergrove.
She’s not alone. Pix and Jimmy are right outside her house, arguing heatedly about something, but as soon as she stumbles, their heads turn and their gazes snap to her.
“Oh, thank Cod,” Jimmy breathes, and rushes forward.
Shrub grins at him. “Jimmy! You’re not going to believe this—I found my home! It’s right through there, I can find my people—!”
“You were in the Nether?” Jimmy asks—demands, really—sounding very put-out. “Shrub, we’ve been scouring your kingdom for you, we thought you were dead—or worse!”
“No, I’m fine,” she says brightly. “Guys, my home—it’s still standing! My people might still be alive!”
Jimmy opens his mouth, still looking very annoyed, but Pix cuts him off. “Shrub, as happy as I am for you, you can’t just wander off with Xornoth still on the loose. We don’t know where he is, and he might try to capture you, too.”
Shrub goes to try to explain, then stops, because something about that doesn’t make sense. “Too? What do you mean, too?”
The two men share a look, and she instantly decides she doesn't like that look. “It’d be easier to show you,” Jimmy says, gesturing for her to follow.
Hesitating, Shrub glances back at the portal, debating. On the one hand… her people. They could be out there somewhere, and she can save them if she can find them. On the other hand, her friends here are depending on her. They need her help, and while she wants nothing more than to set off to find her people, so that she’s not alone anymore.
Then she feels Pix squeeze her shoulder, and she realises that whether or not she finds her people, she isn’t alone. She has her friends, her little mismatched and broken family, and she has to help put it back together again.
So she turns to the two men, nods, and readies her wings for a flight.
________
Jimmy is low-key surprised when Shrub’s first, immediate reaction to seeing Gem and Pearl cuddling together with Sausage on the floor in front of the small staircase is just to gasp, her hands flying to cover her mouth. He’s about to explain to her what they know, but she flies forward, and while Sausage stiffens, ready to defend his friends, she just flings herself into Gem’s and Pearl’s laps, clinging to them like she’s afraid they will disappear if she lets go.
Beside him, Pix relaxes, smiling, and ambles toward them at a much more sedate pace. “How are you feeling, Gem?”
Gem shivers, but manages a weak grin. “Never better,” she says, her voice wavering and raspy like she needs a drink, and Jimmy immediately moves, grabbing a clean phial from Scott’s stash and filling it in the cauldron in the kitchen area.
He presses it into her hands, wincing at the freezing touch, and gives her as stern a look as he can manage. “Drink that. You must be very dehydrated.”
As Gem takes a long sip, Pearl nods. “They had her in the Nether. I don’t think she was given much if any water.”
“Only a few drops here and there, to keep me alive,” Gem admits, her voice still weak but with less of a rasp. She nods her thanks, and Sausage takes the bottle from her hands before her grip on it can slip.
“Thanks, Jimmy,” he says. There’s something about his voice… It's simultaneously solemn and relieved, sounding lighter than it has in at least a week (but Cod, what a week it has been, and a few days longer than that as well).
Scott shuffles forward from the base of the stairs up to the loft, opposite from where the three remaining members of the Wither Rose Alliance are huddled. “Pearl… earlier, you said something. You said Exor had her.”
Jimmy stiffens. The implications of that alone… he’s aware of his hands shaking and he has to consciously take a deep breath to avoid hyperventilating or puking or anything. If Exor is loose, if Xornoth has already done the ritual—but surely they would know about it, they would have felt something, there would have been some indication—
Pearl hesitates, then sighs. “I’ll explain more when Joel and Lizzie get here. I only want to explain this once.”
Jimmy narrows his eyes. There’s too little concern in her stance and voice for it to be that pressing, but still, she wouldn’t idly say something like ‘Exor had her’ without meaning it. There’s no way she would mistakenly say something like that.
It takes a few more minutes—at this point, they’ve been gone for nearly two and a half hours—but eventually Lizzie and Joel turn up. Lizzie looks relieved to see Shrub here, and Gem still upright, and Jimmy goes to help her and Joel lay out the items they’d acquired, which for some reason includes a cauldron, despite the fact there’s already one here, and a brewing stand, again, despite the fact that there is already one here.
Katherine doesn’t seem that disgruntled by the extraneous equipment and instead starts throwing ingredients into her cauldron almost at random, though he knows there must be some method to the madness. She’s never haphazard about things this important.
As she works, Jimmy wraps an arm around his sister, hugging her close. He’d been worried about her, out there with only Joel to protect her, and though he knows she’s a big girl and can take care of herself, it’s hard to watch her leave. That was part of the reason he’d been so quick to comply with Katherine’s request that they go to find Shrub; it had taken his mind off his worry.
Surprisingly, it only takes a few more minutes for Katherine to prepare whatever it is she’s got brewing, and she soon is filling another phial with something clear blue. She approaches Gem cautiously, and Gem follows her with her eyes, looking wary, but when Katherine presses the phial into her hands, she drinks it willingly enough, shuddering as it goes down.
Almost immediately, she groans, and clutches at her chest. Sausage shoots upright, glaring at Katherine, as Pearl pulls Gem closer, and rocks her back and forth, trying to soothe her pain. There’s a tense second where nothing happens, Gem is just folded over, pain evident on her face, then her expression slowly clears as her complexion slowly warms, the white shrinking back into the roots of her hair before disappearing entirely.
Slowly, she straightens, setting the phial to the side as she grimaces. “That was officially the worst heartburn I’ve ever had.”
Sausage and Pearl both let out relieved laughs, and Shrub, who hadn’t really moved from where she’d burrowed between Pearl and Gem, giggles before latching onto Gem’s arm and squeezing hard.
Jimmy catches Scott’s eye from across the room, and he notices that he looks a little teary-eyed. Which is strange, because usually he’s the epitome of I-couldn’t-care-less-about-your-problems, but then, lately, that hasn’t really been the case. He’s been getting involved emotionally, and Jimmy has to admit, he likes seeing this side of Scott.
Gem manages to wriggle out of the impromptu cuddle pile, laughing, and gives Katherine a big hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly, and even from here, with her back turned to him, Jimmy can tell that Katherine is starting to tear up.
He knows losing Gem had hit Katherine hard—he still isn’t exactly sure why—but it’s more than obvious that she is beyond relieved that this time, this time she was able to save her friend.
Jimmy moves forward, wraps Gem in a hug as soon as she’s disengaged from Katherine, and pats her on the back. “Good to see you, Gem.”
Surprisingly, he even means it. He won’t say he’s always held a fondness for Gem, but she has always been the most tolerable of the main three of the Wither Rose Alliance. But since they lost fWhip the first time, he’s started empathising with her, and even grew to respect her as she pressed on without her sibling. He can’t imagine he’d have soldiered on as well as she did if he’d lost his sibling.
Then they’d lost her, and he’d realised that quite without meaning to, he’d grown fond of her, and losing her had been a blow. Now she’s back, and he can quite honestly say he’s more than relieved.
Pix is next, gently folding Gem into his arms and whispering, “Welcome back,” in such a soft voice Jimmy knows he’s not the only one who tears up.
Gem then makes her way over to Scott, who backs away, hands spread and a panicked look on his face as she stops right in front of him. Jimmy can’t see her face from the angle she’s at, but her posture is relaxed, and she doesn’t seem afraid or angry.
“Scott,” she says softly. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you, I knew what I was getting myself into, you are in no way to blame.”
Scott slumps slightly, his hands dropping to his sides. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Whether or not you blame me, it was my fault, I hurt you, I ran—”
“You didn’t mean to, and you were just trying to keep from making it worse. Scott,” she reaches out and grabs his hand. Jimmy has to give her credit. Despite how cold he knows Scott’s skin to be, she doesn’t shudder or let go. “You don’t have to blame yourself. Exor was the one to blame. He gave me some sort of potion,” she adds, a bit louder so the whole room can hear. “I don’t remember what happened after that, but I woke up in a cell in the Nether. He came by a few times, mostly to taunt me, but he got my blood as well. Tell me he hasn’t gotten yours.”
Joey scoffs slightly. “I wish we could, but he used Pearl as leverage to make us give it to him. You know, before she stabbed Scott in the back and killed Joel.”
Gem whirls around, staring in disbelief at Pearl, who squirms uncomfortably. “After the funeral, after he poisoned us all—” Gem lets out a gasp, but Pearl presses on “—Exor dropped by the Gilded Helenthia, and told me he’d rigged two kingdoms to blow if I didn’t do what he wanted. I meant it when I said I didn’t have a choice.”
Sausage nods. “He’d rigged Mythland and the Crystal Cliffs, hadn’t he?”
Pearl nods, and Jimmy exchanges looks with the others. Pix seems to have accepted that easily enough, but there are a few things bugging the rest of them about that story.
“If you knew where the bombs were, why didn’t you disarm them sooner?” Lizzie asks, and Jimmy can’t help but nod.
Pearl sighs. “I didn’t know which kingdoms he’d rigged. If I went poking around, he might have set one of them off just to punish me. I couldn’t risk it.”
“Then how did you know which ones were rigged?” Joey demands, and this time it’s Shrub who nods.
“And why didn’t you just tell us when you found out?” she asks.
Pearl shares a look with Gem, like she’s debating how much to tell them, and Jimmy frowns. “The whole truth, please and thank you.”
She sighs again, and closes her eyes. “Honestly? I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d believe me, and… I messed up. I obeyed him, I did what he wanted without question, I made you think I betrayed you. I… guess I felt like it was my responsibility, and my penance. I am sorry, Joey, about you getting hurt. I didn’t know you were there, or I’d have been more careful. As it was, I was rushing, because I didn’t know how much time I had before Exor realised I was gone.”
Jimmy nods. He can see where she’s coming from. Hell, he probably would have done the same, down to the screw-up that resulted in the explosion, but that still didn’t answer the original question.
Before he can ask her to actually explain how she found out, Scott scowls slightly and asks, “You still haven’t explained why you keep calling him Exor. I thought it was Xornoth.”
“So did we,” Gem admits, pain evident on her face, and Jimmy wonders what exactly happened to her in the days she was gone. “But right as we were escaping, he told us. He laughed, and he… he made fWhip tell us.”
Electricity runs through Jimmy's spine, making him straighten as literal shock courses through him. “fWhip?” He hears himself ask distantly, and to his continued shock, Pearl and Gem both nod.
“He was still holding on,” Pearl explains. “When Scott managed to hurt him in Mythland, fWhip was able to break free long enough to tell me both where the end crystals were, and where Gem was.”
Gem visibly blinks back tears, and forces out, “He told us to run.”
Jimmy’s heart aches. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told fWhip all those weeks ago (was it really only two? That seems too hard to believe), that he’d come to consider fWhip a friend, despite their negative history. To hear Gem talk about him with such pain… he knows deep in his gut that something happened to fWhip, and knowing Xornoth—or Exor, whichever—it can’t have been anything good.
Sausage is the one to break the brief silence that follows Gem’s statement. “He’s gone, isn’t he,” he asks softly, sounding devastated, and Pearl and Gem both hesitate, then nod.
“We think so,” Pearl says, her voice surprisingly steady. “He screamed—then he just… It was awful.”
Jimmy can only imagine. Having your mind snuffed out while knowing that your body was going to be paraded around like some sort of puppet by a cruel and capricious god… that sounds terrifying, and probably painful as well.
But worse, he knows Gem and Pearl witnessed it. That scream has to be imbedded in their minds, and probably will be for the rest of their lives. Cod, that must have been terrifying for them as well. No wonder they can barely bring themselves to speak about it.
It takes a long moment before anyone can bring themselves to break the silence, during which Gem wanders back over to the cuddle pile, where Pearl, Sausage, and Shrub still haven’t moved, and joins back in.
Finally Scott tentatively asks, “Are… are we sure the demon wasn’t just lying to fWhip and you both? I mean, surely we’d know it if Exor was walking around. We’d have felt it when he did the ritual.”
Gem shakes her head, leaning against Sausage’s shoulder. “He said he’s using fWhip the way he used Xornoth, I think it’s just that he had less time to try to corrupt fWhip then he did Xornoth, so instead of turning him into his minion, he just… ended him. The ritual… I don’t know why he needs it, but I think it’ll boost his power. Think, he’s only on par with Xornoth, not with what I’d expect of a god.”
“Either way, we can’t let him complete it. We have to end this, before anyone else gets hurt.” Pearl juts her chin out in a stubborn way, looking for anyone to challenge her. No one does.
Scott sighs heavily. “Then we have no choice. We’re going to have to kill him somehow. I’m sorry, Gem, I know he was your brother, but—”
“No, it’s okay.” Gem’s face says it’s anything but. “He’d hate what he’s been turned into.”
“There’s just one problem with that,'' Lizzie puts in. “In killing Exor, we may end up killing Scott.” Jimmy gives her a confused look, and she must notice because she pulls out an old, leatherbound book and flips to a certain page. “‘Twin souls trapped in an endless battle since the beginning of time, chaos and order, light and dark, hot and cold. One can not exist without the other, for if one soul dies, the other is sure to follow.’ If this doesn’t refer to you and Xornoth, I don’t know what does. But if we get rid of Exor, we get rid of Xornoth, and, well…”
Jimmy gapes at her for a moment, then shakes his head. “Right. That’s not an option then.”
“Jimmy…” Scott says, and Jimmy shakes his head again.
“No, Scott, we’ve lost too much already, we can’t lose you, too— I can’t lose you.” He feels nervous saying that aloud, especially in front of everyone, and he spots Joel slip some diamonds over to Pix, looking disgruntled about it, but his eyes stay focused on Scott, whose face falls as he comes closer.
“Jimmy,” he says softly, reaching up to caress Jimmy’s face. “You won’t be losing me. I’ll be right here with you. But you have duties to this world, while I… I will be waiting for you in the next one.”
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the-girl-in-the-box · 2 years
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Can You Imagine? XVIII
A/N: Hello all! Finally back with another update! I'm so excited to *finally* get to post this, as difficult as it's been to find time in my schedule for writing! Please bare with me as I'm probably not going to have the most consistent posting schedule in the world for at least another three weeks, but I hope to even out after that! Until then, I will be updating as soon as I have chapters ready, and I hope the wait won't be too horrible! Until the next one, I hope you enjoy! Skål!
Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.
Masterlist
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We Move As One
The dark of night was the perfect cover for Björn, Freydís, and Ivar to begin their journey to the facility that had once held them all captive. He and Ivar had both begun to notice Freydís changing along this journey, the way her eyes looked tired now, the darkness and shadows around them. Something was happening to her, something bad.
But that wasn’t the only thing. No, they’d also both noticed how her attitude was changing. She’d started snapping more often, letting herself be angry and threatening, even with the two of them. It had gotten to the point that they’d glance over at each other each time something happened, checking to see if they had both noticed it. With each thing, it became more and more obvious that they were both noticing it all. 
They waited until they had a chance to speak alone, when she’d gone off to practice something a little more dangerous where it wouldn’t hurt one of them, to speak about the changes she had undergone. Ivar came to sit beside his brother then, and Björn lifted a brow at him. “You are here about your wife I take it?” he asked.
“I am,” Ivar confirmed. “You asked me to come, didn’t you? So I am here.”
Björn gave a small nod, then took a deep breath. He knew how Ivar could be, and didn’t think any sort of criticism of Freydís would go over very well with him. But, he figured that as this wasn’t so much criticism as it was concern, perhaps Ivar would be more open to hearing him out. He certainly hoped so. “I am afraid she is messing with something she does not understand,” he said. “I heard whispers of what her power is… It is not safe, Ivar. Not for us, and not for her. Not unless she fits a very specific condition.”
“And what condition would that be, hmm?” Ivar questioned Björn.
“She would have to be the one meant to wield this power.”
What Björn and Ivar did not know, was that Freydís had never been alone in the training of her power. It wasn’t as obvious as someone standing beside her, an external being helping her to train, but instead a presence she now felt with her at all times. But when she was training, practicing her craft, it was as if the presence was manifested, always just behind her where she couldn’t see. 
The presence encouraged her to branch out, to attempt new things with her powers, and unbeknownst to her husband and his brother, it was pushing Freydís beyond a point from which she may never return. It wasn’t easy to get candles out that far, but she had managed it, and had set them up in a circle around her, lit so she could levitate in their center. The presence whispered words to her, instructed her on what she was meant to do, which pages in her book to find to give her the spell, and then it was cast.
It was disorienting to pass through so many different people’s consciousness, seeing different perspectives as she walked through their memories searching for the mind she needed. The path was long, from one to the next to the next, having to pass from a memory into the next person’s mind, where she searched for another memory which she could jump through.
This use of her power was supposed to be forbidden. The horrible effects it had on each person whose mind she borrowed might last for weeks or months, if not longer. Everyone took trauma differently, but no one would shake easily the image of someone crawling into their head, fingers grasping at their mind as they were overtaken by splitting pain, flicking through memories until suddenly she’s gone, nightmares left in her wake.
It was no wonder she wasn’t willing to use Ivar’s or Björn’s mind for this. They were her friends, more than that with Ivar and close enough at least with Björn, and she wasn’t going to subject them to that sort of violence. Besides, she shouldn’t need their minds anyway. They weren’t the only people in the world who knew Doctor Schmidt and Professor Andersen, so why should she have to resort to using her allies’ minds to get to theirs?
Unfortunately, she found that the final connection was proving difficult to make. She wasn’t finding someone with that last path to just one of the two, though she was finding people with memories of Björn and Ivar. The more she tried to find that last bridge, the more frustrated she grew, beginning to push harder and harder, moving through minds at a horrible pace, ripping through memories as fast as she could, until suddenly she gave an infuriated scream and released her last victim from her control, ending the spell with eyes wide, panting. 
Björn and Ivar heard her scream, and they stopped their conversation about Freydís immediately to rush to her aid.
Freydís was hitting the ground, falling to her knees when they reached her, her eyes wild and furious. Björn hadn’t seen such a look since he’d faced off against his brother on the battlefield. To see it now in her, it was unnerving to both Björn and Ivar. 
The latter of the two bent down to help his wife to her feet, but a shock of concern coursed through him at the sight of her fingertips. Where once they had been just the same color as every inch of the rest of her skin, now they looked like she had dipped them in black tar, almost as though her skin were decaying before she was even dead. “Freydís,” he managed, unable to tear his eyes away from them. “Your hands…”
This brought Björn’s attention to the offending limbs, and his eyes went wide with shock. “What were you doing?” he asked her, and she looked up at him slowly.
“I’m trying to get information for us,” she replied. “I can connect to people’s minds through other people’s memories of them, and use those memories to continue into the mind of the person I want. But I can’t start with someone who has a strong mind, I can only enter their mind through someone’s memories of them.”
“Freydís, where did you learn this spell?” Björn questioned, beginning to look intensely troubled by her explanation. She stretched out a hand, and out of thin air materialized a book, which hovered between them. Like Ivar, the sight of it alone caused dread to creep into Björn’s chest, making him want to get away from the thing as fast as he could. “Why do you have the Book of the Damned?”
A cold wind blew over them as Björn spoke the book’s name, causing Ivar to look up and around into the trees. Everything went still again, unnaturally so, and his eyes turned back to his wife. “Freydís…” he said softly, and her eyes hardened.
“It was a gift from our generous benefactors,” she said, almost hissing out the bitter title. “But I understand this book, unlike anyone else who has ever tried to read it. It’s as if it were meant to be in my care, as though the spells in its pages were meant to be cast by me.”
Horror washed over Björn as he realized, “That’s because they were.” Ivar looked at his brother with confused eyes, wondering why he seemed so shaken, and finding that this response was likewise shaking him up. “I should have realized when you said you wielded chaos magic…” Björn mumbled. “No wonder your fingers are turning black, Freydís, those spells are the darkest in the world!” He gestured toward the book eagerly, making Freydís snatch it back as though she were afraid he would try and take it.
“Maybe they are!” she snapped at him. “But they are my spells and I will use them when and how I see fit! Get off your moral high horse, Björn Ironside. You know you would do the same given the chance! Both of you would! But this power is mine, and as you told us, mine alone!”
Björn shook his head. “I don’t think I would,” he replied. “Ivar might, but I think you know that, and you want to believe I would too. It makes you feel better about what you’re doing now.”
Freydís hissed out, “You don’t know what I would do.”
This caused Ivar and Björn both to look at each other in concern. “Freydís…” Ivar began. “I know you’re desperate to stay free, and to help the others, but…”
“Do you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Then you will understand why I have to do this.”
Ivar, unlike Björn, knew better than to argue with her just then. Freydís had always had a tendency toward stubbornness- just as he had- and so it wasn’t any surprise to him that she was quickly getting stubborn on this matter. It seemed like whatever that book was doing to her was causing a darkness to grow in her, one that reminded him of how he himself had once been, when he had called himself a god and forced the citizens of Kattegat to follow him with undying fealty. It had been a dark time in his life, and he didn’t like seeing it reflected in her now.
“What will you do once it’s done?” he questioned in return. “Because I don’t think this is the sort of power you want to give up. Is it? Would you give it up?” Freydís smiled as if everything were just as simple as the day they’d met in York, so long ago.
“Of course not,” she replied. “What’s to say there won’t be another threat? What if our lives are to be shortened because we have already been dead? Why would I give up the power to bring you back again?” 
“Freydís, you sound like Doctor Schmidt,” Björn said. “I thought we were angry at her for interrupting the design of the Norns and the gods? Now you want to do the same?”
She shrugged slightly. “I may as well be a Norn now. Maybe this is my place.”
“And now you sound like me,” Ivar pointed out.
“No, you said you were a god, but you only had their favor. I can do whatever I wish with this world- you’ve seen it, have you not?” she countered. As he had seen it, he swallowed hard, remembering their reunion. “See? You remember.”
“I also remember that no matter how much I believed I was a god, I was not a god. Freydís, you are a witch, not a Norn. Your powers can obscure reality, but they cannot control it.”
“Can’t they?”
Freydís tilted her head, something in her eyes causing a feeling of dread to grow in her husband and his brother. “You both know I can rewrite reality if I wish to. It wouldn’t be the same as what Doctor Schmidt did when she woke us from death. I would just… rewrite things so that you had never died, and so that you were healed of whatever took your life.”
She said it as if that were some small feat, not a big deal in the slightest, while Björn and Ivar both recognized the disastrous effects that she could bring about, using her powers this way. “This is why I say I may as well be a Norn,” she clarified. “If I can rewrite fate, what is the difference between us?”
“The difference is that it is the role of the Norns to write fate- it is not your role to rewrite it,” Björn argued. “As a witch, you can guide people to their fates, and seek out your own, but you cannot rewrite it!” 
“But I can!” she shouted, shooting up to her feet to get in Björn’s face. “Perhaps I should rewrite your own! Would you like that, Björn Ironside? Perhaps I should send you back to Kattegat and declare that you do not let Ivar kill you, and you will remain King there until Ragnarok comes for you! Is that what you want?”
“Freydís-”
“Be quiet!”
Freydís whipped around to face Ivar as she snapped at him, cutting him off from his attempted intervention, only to find that in her anger, she had rid his face of a mouth. Björn gasped in horror as Ivar’s eyes went wide, and his hands came up to feel at the suddenly all too smooth skin. His chest rose and fell rapidly as panic began to set in, and something began to flicker in Freydís’s eyes, making her obey immediately when Björn cried out, “Freydís, let him go!” 
Her hands shot out and there was a flash of red as he regained his mouth, and they shared a distraught look, before she suddenly pushed hard against the ground with her magic, vaulting herself into the sky and immediately disappearing from sight.
Ivar looked as though she may as well have struck him- but then, he might have deserved that, he thought. He had struck her before, and far worse, but even as Björn helped him up, he found that wasn’t the reason he wouldn’t hold this against her. No, that would be because he could tell this wasn’t really her.
“It’s that book, isn’t it?” he asked Björn, looking at him anxiously. “Don’t try to spare me from the truth. She is my wife, and I need to know-”
“It’s the book,” Björn answered. “They warned me about its power before they sent me to hunt you down. Every spell in it is corruptive, and the one who can use it… she is its rightful owner. She would have been able to use it as early as Kattegat, if she’d known she had this power.”
Ivar’s brows lifted as he looked up at Björn. “I thought she gained this power here, from the experiments?” he questioned.
Björn shook his head. “It was being exposed to whatever they gave her that brought it out- she already had it.”
Understandably, this was quite an unnerving revelation for Ivar. If he thought back to everything he had ever done to her- starting with Baldur and concluding with taking her own life- it began to occur to him that she could have simply spoken him out of existence with little more than a word, just the same as she’d done to his mouth only a moment ago.
“We need to find her,” Björn continued. “We know where she’ll be going, but we can’t let her get there first. If she’s been reading that book too much, I don’t think she’s thinking of mercy anymore. We’re past the point of her being reasonable.”
He shook his head. “We both have specific experience with Doctor Schmidt,” he pointed out. “Think about it. If she needed to reach her mind with that spell, she only needed someone with memories of her. We have memories of her. All she would have had to do is go through our minds, and she’d be there.” Björn’s eyes went wide as he realized this. He didn’t know just how horrible it was, but she’d stopped instead of pressing through the people she knew and cared about.
“So you’re saying…”
Ivar nodded. “That was her being reasonable.”
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isabellafoster13 · 2 years
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Chapter Eighteen: Loke
Lucy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of her new bedroom. Minnie's house was a beautiful, colonial-style house, painted a pretty, light blue color with a white design that reminded Lucy of frost. The front and back porches were also painted white, with potted flowering plants on both porches. The house was close to the outskirts of Crocus, making the surrounding area quiet and calm. 
Lucy's bedroom was on the second floor and relatively large in size. The paint that covered the walls was gold in color. The floor was wooden and had a large carpet that was red with gold-colored designs in the middle of the floor, laying underneath the queen-size, canopy bed frame. Double glass doors were on one side, leading to a white balcony. On the opposite side of the room was the bedroom door, leading to the main hallway. Directly across from the bed was a connecting, spacious bathroom. The bed was large with white bed posts and a canopy frame. Contrasting the light color scheme that seemed to be forming in the bedroom, black curtains were drawn shut around the bed. 
Lucy was stiff as she stared upwards, her heartbeat quickening slightly and her breathing becoming a little shallower. She felt a feeling of dread beginning to fall upon her, confusion alongside it. Why was she feeling this way? She felt suffocated and trapped. She felt as though she was locked inside of a small, invisible cage that she had to escape. Why did she feel like this? She wasn't trapped. She wasn't in a cage. She shouldn't be feeling like she was still in her father's mansion. She shouldn't be feeling like she was in a gilded jail.
So, why was she feeling exactly that? Why was she feeling like she was a young child again, trapped in a large and empty house that caged her? 
Her chest rose and fell at a slightly faster rate and she sat up, suddenly feeling panicked and having difficulty breathing. She looked around her at the black curtains that surrounded the bed. It seemed as though the thin, dark material became more solid, like walls, and began closing in on her. 
As her breathing became shallow and fast and a feeling of panic and dread befell her, becoming light-headed, she also became overcome with a nauseating feeling. Her stomach twisted, making her feel like she was going to vomit.
Lucy quickly climbed off of her bed and pushed through the black curtains, stumbling her way to the double glass doors before she made her way to the white railing of the balcony. She leaned over the railing and waited to vomit, however, no bile rose from her stomach. After a few minutes, she leaned away from the railing and slide down to the floor of the balcony.
The celestial wizard sat there for several minutes, her heart calming its pace and her breathing became more steady. The feelings of panic and dread subsided and she felt more grounded, like she wasn't going to faint again, as she ran her fingers over the keys that were hooked onto her belt. Focusing on the feeling of the smooth and hard keys helped her to ground herself. 
She still felt trapped, though. Knowing that she couldn't stay much longer in the house, she stood up, holding onto the railing for a few moments to ensure that her legs were steady. She then walked back into her bedroom, slipped on her shoes, walked through the door, down the stairs, and out of the front door of the house. 
As she walked into Crocus, Lucy wondered where she should go. She thought about going to Minnie's bakery and cafe, but quickly decided against it. Minnie had instructed her to stay home after observing that she seemed to be distracted and troubled. Lucy knew that arguing wouldn't do any good, so she lay back on her bed and tried to fall back asleep. She knew that Minnie would make her go back home, so she avoided the older woman's establishment. 
Lucy knew that she was distracted and troubled. She hadn't made an attempt to hide it and wasn't surprised that Minnie had noticed. The young woman remembered when she first arrived at Minnie's house and saw what it looked like. She had been immediately reminded of her father's mansion. Minnie's house was expensive-looking and rather large. It was the type of house that a rich person would live in. The similarities to the place she had run away from were few, but still obvious to her. So obvious that she was unable to step into the house and was instead frozen as she stared at the house, unsure of if she would be able to live in it. After several tense moments, she had been broken out of her mind by Minnie, who asked if she was alright. Lucy had assured the older woman that she was fine and forced herself to continue moving into the house. 
Lucy gave a sigh as she looked around at her surroundings. She heard her stomach growl, making her realize that she hadn't yet eaten. She decided to find a restaurant that looked nice and eat there before she walked around Crocus for a few hours and then head back to Minnie's house and try to overcome the panic it had induced in her. 
Loke walked through Crocus, enjoying the sight of the people happily going about their day and occasionally winking at pretty, young women that would then blush and swoon over him. Several of these women attempted to stop him for conversation, but he would simply give them an apology, saying that he had somewhere important to be, before he continued on his way. He would've loved to talk to the women that tried to flock around him, however, he had a date to get to and simply refused to keep a lady waiting. 
He quickly arrived at the small but nice restaurant. After requesting a table for two, adding that he was on a date, he was seated and began waiting for his date. He had waited for thirty minutes before he came to the conclusion that he was stood up. To say that he was hurt would be an understatement. Loke had never been stood up and he had never stood up a date. 
His head drooped as he thought about leaving without ordering. He felt like he was being watched, judged for being stood up as if everybody else around him somehow knew. Looking around, he found that nobody was paying him any mind, but the feeling of being watched and judged was still present. 
The Fairy Tail mage pushed back his chair and stood up, but almost immediately stopped his attempt to leave in shame and embarrassment when a pretty voice spoke from the other side of the table, "mind if I join you?"
Loke looked up and froze when he saw the beautiful blonde that was smiling at him, waiting for his answer. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, as his heartbeat quickened and his stomach began doing flips. He was unable to bring himself to answer, suddenly at a loss for words. 
He opened his closed his mouth a few times, probably making him look like a fish, as he felt his cheeks begin to burn with what he was sure was a dark red blush. So red, in fact, that it likely put Erza's hair color to shame. He eventually was able to answer after an embarrassingly long time of staring at her as if he had never seen a woman before, "um...yeah...yeah, go ahead."
The blonde chuckled and sat on the chair across from Loke as he sat back down in his chair. The waitress came over to take their drink orders before she soon returned with the beverages and took their food orders. Once the waitress walked away, Loke asked, "why did you want to join me?" 
He appreciated the kindness she was showing by eating with him, but he was curious as to why since they had never met before. The blonde answered, "I don't know. You looked lonely, I guess. I hope you don't mind."
Loke shook his head, responding, "no, not at all. I always enjoy the company of a gorgeous princess." 
He watched with a flirty smirk as the blonde glared at him in an annoyed manner, but her cheeks became painted with an evident blush. Loke couldn't help but stare in awe. She was incredibly beautiful when she blushed. He wanted to make her blush some more. 
After introducing themselves to each other, the two fell into conversation. Loke explained that he used Ring Magic and was a mage of Fairy Tail. That had gotten her attention. Lucy told him that he was a mage as well, though guildless. She was about to tell him about her magic when their waitress brought them their food. 
They then fell into a comfortable silence as they ate. Loke couldn't help but stare at her as he ate. Lucy was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he was sure of that. Her blonde hair looked as though it was made out of pure sunshine, bright and golden. Her skin looked smooth and flawless, making his fingers twitch with a want to brush them against her skin. Her eyes were an enchanting, dark brown color, pulling him into them and making him want to drown in their depths. Her body was shapely and enticing. The pink, spaghetti-strap tank top and denim miniskirt hugged her curves perfectly. 
Loke was unable to take his eyes off of her. She made him experience feelings that no woman had ever made him feel. Was he in love? Has he found a woman that he wanted to be with and give up his playboy ways for? He believes he was. Deciding to ask her to go on an actual date with him, he waited for the two of them to finish eating before he paid the bill. 
The pair exited the restaurant, stepping into the bright sunshine and warm outside. Loke turned to speak when once again froze. The sun shined onto Lucy in a way that made her hair reflect the warm rays and make her look like a heavenly maiden. He fell in love again. He then shook himself out of his trance and asked, "what is your magic? You never told me." 
Lucy responded with an "oh! Right!" before she unhooked and held up something that made Loke freeze, but for an entirely different reason. In her hands were Celestial Spirit Gate Keys. The ring mage didn't hear what she said next. He stared in horror at the keys, unwanted memories of Karen Lilica, his former wizard that he killed, crashed down onto him, making him feel suffocated. 
Becoming overwhelmed with a need to run and get away from her, Loke took a step back before he turned around and ran. He ran through Crocus, searching for a place to hide. He didn't know if Lucy was chasing after him, he hoped she wasn't, but if the look of concern she was giving him was anything to go by, she probably was. 
He then found an alleyway that had cardboard boxes inside of it. He ran in and curled up into a fetal position, hiding behind a stack of boxes, with his face buried in his knees. As tears raced down his face as he bit his lip so hard it drew blood, trying to prevent himself from making a sound that would alert any passerby to his presence. 
The one woman he falls in love with is a celestial wizard. What was he expecting? He knew that whatever higher power existed was punishing him for killing Karen. He knew that he wouldn't be able to be with Lucy, no matter how much he wanted to, not just because she's a celestial wizard, but also because he knew that he didn't have much longer in Earthland. 
He was thrown back into those years as Karen's celestial spirit, being forced to watch as Aries was abused. He helped her, and he didn't regret it at all, but he paid a heavy price for it. Drowning in the guilt that he felt and overcome with memories that he tried to forget, Loke's entire body trembled as he sniffled a few times. 
He had been sitting in an alleyway, hidden by cardboard boxes, and quietly crying and shaking, he felt a hand gently lay on his shoulder, causing him to flinch away. He knew that it was Lucy. He heard her melodic voice speak softly, "Loke, please look at me." 
But Loke didn't make an attempt to raise his head. He wanted to look at her, to look into her sparkling eyes, but he couldn't. He was a murderer. It was because of him that Karen died. He didn't deserve to even look at Lucy, much less be with her, even though that was all he wanted now. He curled further into himself as Lucy spoke again, "I guess you had a bad experience with a celestial wizard, huh? I understand what you are going through, trust me, I know. I won't hurt you. Please, look at me." 
Loke loved her voice. It somehow soothed him and made him feel more at ease. Her voice compelled him to obey and after several moments of hesitation, he lifted his head and brought his tearful gaze up to meet Lucy's. His breath hitched when he saw her warm, kind smile. He felt a wave of comfort wash over him just from her presence and smile. He slowly and hesitantly brought his hand up to cup Lucy's cheek and the blonde gently placed her hand over his. If he wasn't in love with her before, then he definitely was now. He then curled himself and allowed her to bring his body close to hers. He felt Lucy wrap her arms around him as he continued to cry. 
Maybe...maybe he could find happiness and love with her. Maybe she could make his limited time in Earthland more bearable and less painful. He wasn't sure if he would be able to tell her the truth about his existence and why he was so scared, but he might be able to be with her.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Lucy watched Loke walk away from her, heading back to Magnolia. She then turned around and began making her way back to Minnie's house. She knew that she was still blushing, her cheeks were noticeably warm. Her heartbeat was fast and her stomach felt as though it was filled with butterflies. 
She knew that she was attracted to Loke. Not much of a surprise from how flirty he was. After she had comforted him, she and Loke had gone for a walk before Loke decided that it was time for him to leave. He then kissed her hand and told her that he looked forward to seeing her again before turning to leave. 
Lucy could tell that he had a bad past experience with a celestial wizard, but she was happy to see that he was able to spend the day with her. Maybe they could be friends, or more even, in the future. She looked forward to seeing him again one day. Maybe she could help him through what made him wary, even scared, of celestial wizards. She hoped she would be able to. She liked Loke and wanted to help him. Though, she wasn't sure if she knew how. 
The blonde was brought out of her thoughts when she came to Minnie's house. She stood in front of the walkway to the front porch, focusing on keeping her breathing under control. She took a few minutes before she forced her legs to move and she approached the front porch, a feeling of dread beginning to wash over her. She reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it, pushing open the front door. 
Upon stepping into the house, she found Minnie standing several feet in front of the door, her arms crossed over her chest. Lucy stared at the older woman in apprehension, nervous that she was going to get mad at her for something. However, her worry was eased when Minnie smirked and spoke, "I saw you with an attractive young man. Tell me about him, now." 
Lucy chuckled as she closed the door behind her, the feeling of dread that had been rising in her began to diminish as she walked with Minnie into the dining room to eat together, telling the older woman about her day with Loke. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Two more chapters and then this story will be finished. I can't wait to start on the next one. Thank you to everyone that has left positive comments about this story. I greatly appreciate the love. 
Here is a hint for the last suitor: Ice.
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deadxlv · 5 months
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Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫
Chapter: 18. 2 “Souls restless..yet, you sacrificed it all..for Love..?!”
Actions so inexcusable yet so pure..questions unable to escape your very lips hang on the verge of speaking your truths, dripping of rain in the dark skies cloak the world around you in moisture and dampness. Yet all you can see in front of you are the eyes of a murderer, a world wide killers, a genocidal maniac, but even with it all lingering in your mind as the prey you are you sit down and speak with the weakened lion who lays there to rest. Fate is sealed and she seemingly knows how by how quickly she knew our words before they were even spoken..you need to know why..bring yourself to it..
Why does he matter so much to that bitch..
Why..?
Soft dripping of rain just outside the closet door made you stare back out to the ever so damaged dark room, you had no sense of time in this position as from what it seemed it was the middle of the night, but with no other options you would stare back into the blind eyes of a fallen Angel. Their clear blue blood staining the gray fluid with its sin, wounds ever so slowly healing, and clothes getting drained of their stains by the moment, you two would stare at one another in literal silence as not one wanted to speak on first. Their face submerged up till their upper nose hid itself from your view, this was incredibly uncomfortable- forget fights or strange behaviors this was indeed the weirdest position you've ever been in, but as you throw all concern you both would spring into the same action and try to ask~
"Who are you..?"
Hijìn and Vìrkä stared at one another awkwardly after asking such a question at the same time, hands sweating Hijìn passed his hands over the ripped white shirt he nagged from her dresser, Vìrkä rubbing her eyes in some annoyance knowing this would be the case. Letting her healing hand fall back in the goop she sat up properly till the top of her shoulders were revealed, speaking out in a calm quiet tone she would say, "For what it's worth..I'd imagine you'd like to know who I am..that's innately fair- I did just appear", Hijìn staring at her and promptly nodding setting his gaze off her and off to his surroundings. Faint glow of the burning candle dying out made the room they were in pitch black, Hijìn turning all about growing uncomfortable in such dark conditions while being in the same place as this crazed being, but from within the tub a faint glow would slowly start to build up that would catch his eye. Small bioluminescent markings on Vìrkä's body would begin to glow a faint green so bright they would brighten up the room, going so far that the small markings under her eyes, the two circles by a centered triangle, would act as headlights for her. "Sorry for that..I..uh..haven't been able to repair my room in a long time so I had to use a more composite form of lighting, is this okay?", Vìrkä asked while she tied her long gray silky hair back into a low ponytail with a string, Hijìn watched her body glow through her clothes making him zone out in the process as the lights softly glowed in the darkness.
Snap! Snap! Clicking of snapping fingers in your face waking you from your quiet gaze made you jolt back nearly slamming your head back into the wall by the door, Vìrkä stared at him slightly confused as she said, "Seems like my sister........never..whatever..Uhm..", she would clear her throat, "I'll just start off with an introduction..that fine with you?", Vìrkä asked while staring back at Hijìn whom was trying to sit properly back on the small foot stool, him giving a small thumbs up as he finally managed to plant his ass down on it. Clearing her throat as her clenched fist went in front of her mouth before falling back down into the water, "My name is Vìrkä Mònïqe..I am a daughter of Fate and the used to be protector of these crimson forests..grown to be a protector I..uh..", she glanced away getting uncomfortable once again as she blurted out, "You know the rest..". Her hand poking out the side of the tub swayed in his direction implying it was his turn, her gaze staying off him while she seemed to huddle up to the opposite side of the tub, it was like she was trying to gain some sense of comfort while her mind flooded with thoughts..most of which highly corrosive to her mental health. Hijìn sat up before reading the room and deciding it's best to stay in a more casual state as he would try his best to say with the parasites assistance, black left eye pulsing as he would speak out, "I am..Hijìn..son of Aba..grandson of the chief of my people..friend of Kÿr..and bearer of the sin that is this parasite..", abruptly shutting himself up as he watched Vìrkä huddle up more to the side of the tub. "O..okay..just don't think about doing any dumb mistakes of trying to comfort me..I'm fine..it's..a somewhat minor pleasure to actually meet you..not with blades drawn and all Yknow..?", she jokingly said at the end as she glanced back at him- her glowing symbols on her cheeks illuminating her mellow green face in a soft green light.
Skin as well as bone healing within her very flesh Vìrkä would be able to move a bit out and stretch her legs in the tub, her toeless feet slightly poking out of the dense fluid as she moved her arms in the air to stretch her back before it all plummeted beneath the fluid once again. "Why did you save us Vìrkä..?", Hijìn asked in a calm tone of voice as he watched her do all of this while his left eye stayed pulsing back from the parasite being activated to communicate properly, she would open her mouth all the way open as she yawned revealing her serrated sharp teeth and blue tongue before facing him still tired, "I- I..Uhm..Hmn..", she wiped her cheek after yawning with her now clean sleeve as it fell back down into the fluid, "He felt like you weren't supposed to die yet, and in His mercy He wished for me to save your soul..in exchange for saving you and giving you a shot back I was to sacrifice all the strength I received from my creator and now fall under His jurisdiction..". Hijìn burrowed his eyebrows and looked at her mildly interested, "Who..is this He you mentioned..? Weird why he would want to save us when I don't even know who that is..", he blurted out to himself at the end before Vìrkä's hand planted itself on the side of the tub near Hijìn. With a glance she would stare up at the ceiling of this small closet-like room, the starry faded wallpaper on the ceiling getting illuminated by her bioluminescent markings, slowly raising her other hand up she would point at a very large drawn star dwarfing all other stars near it. A pause as Hijìn followed her hand till it pointed up at the main star and he watched in confusion, but with a small smile she would mutter from her lips, "He's..the most beautiful thing you could ever witness, so mysterious and powerful, he was the one who created this world..and with one swipe he can obliterate anyone or thing who opposes him..yet he only showers his creations with love..", she would let her hand slowly fall back down to the fluid as she faded him with a more serious look on her face, "He was the one who created Mother Fate..", she muttered in a bothered tone of voice as Hijìn's eyes widened in shock 'so she is real..?!' He thought as he glanced one more time up to the painted star on the ceiling in amazement over who this being was
  "The world was young and everything came into fruition, He gave his love out as gifts, allowing anyone even those not birthed in His home to gain strength never before seen. Some would consider it a curse..as some gifts were so wildly destructive or corrosive by accident that many named them Vexes..I was created a long long time ago..by my so called Father..your people call him the Hydra, but in all realities it's the Mar'shtà dí Mertî (Marsh-ta de Mert-I) or the Parasite of the World, it was never named only titled as such by old civilizations whom reigned in the dark ages. It's allot to take in I'm sure but there is so much even I have yet to see it's truly incredible, only He stands at the pinnacle of us all..only He could wipe out all our armies..He commands the stars in the skies..creatures in the seas..holds the very fabric of reality we exist on in His very fingertips..", Vìrkä said while passing her thumb over her other palm wiping the remaining bit of goop off her hands, the healing process has been a success but now the fluid is tainted with their blood and now must be replaced. Hijìn still seated would watch her slowly raise out of the fluid in shock to it all, someone like that actually exists? How has he never heard mention of it before? Impossible really only such beings would be considered rulers of every- He is..', Hijìn thought to himself as Vìrkä took a step from the Tub, her face wincing in discomfort from the stress she puts on her energy deficient body, placing her soft green hand on his shoulder as she limped by and leaned against the doorframe. The Healing Baza drains one of all their calories and energy reserves to heal them up to maximum efficiency, but for what it was worth when Vìrkä touched Hijìn he would slightly jerk to the side in discomfort not really sure of this whole casual moment between them, her hand holding onto his shoulder for a moment for a while longer before she managed to step her way out of the closet-like room. Hijìn getting up in pursuit of more knowledge would swing the door open and by accident it would make Vìrkä near tumble under her own body's weakness, his eyes reacting to this fast enough would make him move forward and catch her before she hit the ground. "Let's..just get you on that bed over there..cause even I know the weakness your feeling right now..", Hijìn said to Vìrkä, looking down to her as he helped her walk her way to the bed, she glanced up to him and would scoff feeling like she didn't need the help to begin with, "I-I'm fine..but sure..Thanks..I guess..", she mumbled to herself looking away from him as she crawled her way onto her dirtied bed.
  Crashing sound of old portraits hitting the ground as Vìrkä threw everything on her bed on the floor, her exhausted body falling back on the bed, head resting on still soft cushion pillows, eyes fluttering to stay open as she faced him. In a yawn she would say, "You can sit down on the side..I don't..care Hijìn..", she called upon his name as he stood in the center of the room staring down at her. This just didn't feel right in his eyes, this whole peaceful calmness in the air, seeming like nothing had never happened between them started to piss him off as he clenched his fist looking away from her. She would notice this and just stare up at him not even budging only to say, "If you want to kill me go ahead..slice my wrists, smash my head in, tear me limb from limb..I wouldn't blame you or resist..", her arms weakly opening them up like a invitation to a hug as she accept it all, "Go ahead..I'm open arms..the Demon of everything on this continent..killer of the part of you you've never experienced till these last few cycles..now you have your chance..avenge them..", her arms laying limp on the bed as Vìrkä just watched him stand there not even caring to go on anymore, she's done so much, thrown even more away, sacrificed her own soul for her actions, why would she even want to care anymore..she's done enough harm..
  Remaining strength surging you take your steps in abject hatred towards the demon in front of you, their somber look in their eyes not effecting your judgement, as you approach you just stare down at this defeated creature and gain no sympathy. 'Why should we care? Killing them would be the greatest thing they've ever deserved! She has no strength..all their deaths were meaningless to her just look at her she doesn't care..she just..lays...there..accepting the consequences..', Hijìn thought as he moved his clenched fist back whilst staring down at her expressionless face, thinking of what is right and wrong to do- revenge needs to be served for his people, his kind, the part of him he truly never did understand, 'But would Father think this is the right decision', the thought inserted itself into his psyche as his arm slightly went down. 'Would he believe this is the right thing, he always had a way with words..have I been the fool? No right? Or..it's pointless anyways..she knows the result..why should I even try..", Hijìn's arms falling to his side he sat down on the side of the bed near her, looking down at the ground trying to reconcile with the fact that no matter what he does she will always know what's the end..even if it comes down to his very life. Vìrkä watched him sit down in defeat and would look away staring up at the cracked ceiling above her, "You know..Foresight is a Vex..regardless of your actions it's futile to even try..it makes you wanna give up..your emotions pointless in the grand scheme of things, Hijìn I grow jealous of your sight..clear..without the noise of flashing images..the death..the repeating sights..I envy you..you actually get to see the world for all it is beautiful..", she said as her hands gripped the bedsheets in desperation..why have I been served this..again..and again..
"He was a strange Creature..", Vìrkä heard this and glanced in his direction, Hijìn's back towards her and head hanging low, "What..?", she asked softly wondering what he was talking about. "My Father..I called him Aba at a young age, he found me in the desert..bloody..covered in deep holes, he did something that healed me, but also left a void inside my very heart..I was an always anger-able child, always up to something, yet he always cared for what I did like if I was his true son..", Hijìn said shrugging to himself as he glanced all about still thinking about it all. "He's..gone..flying amongst the stars..I know he is..watching me take every step- I can't..depend on him anymore I need to grow up and live on..I thought that sticking with his relatives I could gain said closure of his passing..but I was wrong..", Hijìn raised his right leg on the bed slightly glancing at her, "It isn't in our bests interests to speak on such matters..but opening up in any regards knowing someone else will hear you helps...I didn't want to say it to Kÿr because I wanted to be a foundation for him in these trying times..but..but..I just don't know how much more of this endless fighting I can withstand..I fear I'll hurt him..", Hijìn said turning away from Vìrkä who watched growing sympathy for the man from said message, her hand slightly raised to touch his back only for it to fall down on the bed as she reconsidered it. Scooting in her bed a bit she would plant her hand on his back and awkwardly pat it a few times, "There there you large Mutt..no need to get emotional here..we've all suffered..we just need to move on..carry on our legacies..the legacies of those who fallen before us on our shoulders so those in our distant futures live a better life..", Hijìn wiped his face a few times with his forearm and scoffed looking at her nightstand by her, a small worn down picture had Hèr'La and Vìrkä posing together..only that Vìrkä's face was cut out the shot never to be seen from..what else is there..but somber mistakes..
Exhale of wasted time Hijìn would sit partially on the bed and face Vìrkä who's hand was still slightly on his back, she was laying on her side looking up to him as her silky gray hair rested on her face, eyes fluttering in exhaustion as she tried her best to stay awake. Hijìn wiped his cheek with his forearm one more time, looking out to the darkness past them as Vìrkä's glowing symbols on her body began to wane, she was beginning to fall asleep and he had nothing else to do but the same. Softly moving her hand off his back Hijìn got up and let her drift off to sleep, stepping away limping one foot at a time till he reached a dry corner on the floor to sit down at so he could sleep. Slamming against the wall he slowly slid down till he sat on the ground, looking up ahead he saw Vìrkä's resting face and just stared for a second..was she actually asleep? Or was she deceiving him?..I..can't..so..tired. His mind wavering away with each passing moment, eyes fluttering to try and stay awake he would see the glowing lights of that woman fade into darkness, mind giving in he finally passed out in the corner..head pressed against the hardwood wall the silence of the night took hold of another two weak souls..
Somber night and Dripping rain..
What else could it be but a change of fate perhaps?
Why did we choose to stay? Was she also surprised of our decision?
I can't..my body is too exhausted from healing I can barely move..hardwood floor is so comfortable..body is just giving in
Sound of Rain hitting the floor was such a soothing sound..I wish I could rest forever..but I will need to go out..
Kÿr..imma go looking for you..just you wait..
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the-baddest-of-batches · 11 months
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Dar'Aliit: Chapter Eighteen - Good Soldiers (Sneak Peek)
19 BBY The Krayt
The other Dar'Aliit are rowdy as they disembark. "We showed those clankers!" Headshot pumps an arm in the air.
"Give us a few more weeks and we'll have the whole separatist fleet running with their tails between their legs!" Booker laughs, a rare noise from him.
Everyone's cocky today. I dump my helmet in my locker and glance in the mirror hanging there. A blaster score across my nose two weeks ago is still healing. I don't think I've looked this exhausted since Umbara.
We've been beaten and battered in every direction, but the other three still think we're winning. Maybe we are.
"Lieutenant!" a voice bellows in the room. I snap my locker shut.
"Sir." I turn. I'm too tired to salute the Captain, but he salutes me.
"Bridge."
"Aw, again?" Headshot asks.
"And you're not invited," Addie tells him.
Headshot pulls a face. Booker just rolls his eyes and mutters, "Be glad you're not the one called up there."
I know. Every day. To the bridge. More orders. Keep your head down. Be a good soldier. I've stopped getting yelled at, and the General tolerates my presence again. I don't know how much my compliance is working, but at least we've freed two more planets.
And lost countless more.
I stalk up to the bridge. I snap a two-fingered salute. Best I can muster after a four week campaign. The General doesn't even bother to look.
"At ease."
Addie alone relaxes.
"Lieutenant, you've brought home another win, but the war isn't over yet."
"Yessir."
"In light of your recent accolades, I've decided to deploy you solo again."
Instant galvanizing relief hits. The trenches have been mass pits of death and I'm about at the end of my wits. It's a wonder more of us don't go mad from watching the slaughter.
"Yessir?" I venture a step forward.
"This will be a classified mission. Starfall. I have sent the details to your data pad."
"When do I leave?"
"In a week. Until then, I've had your old astromech R3 reoutfitted."
I look around. I haven't seen R3 since Illandin. The droid rolls up a ramp from one of the command pits and beeps. He's a sight for sore eyes. He bumps against my leg. I pat his dome. "Thank you, sir."
"I should inform you, this mission is not one to be taken lightly, Lieutenant. It may decide the war."
I stand a little stiffer. "Understood."
"Go, Lieutenant."
I salute. "Yessir."
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ericshoney · 8 months
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Under the moonlight ~ Chapter eighteen
Sunwoo's POV
It was around two in the afternoon, I was just sitting outside by the pool relaxing, its been a long time I've sat by a pool and relax. It was calm and the sun was warm. I heard the back door open and look over to see Juyeon walk out, shirtless I might add. He looks over, making me turn my head away. I hear him chuckle as he goes to the pool, walking down the steps and having a short swim. I try to take my eyes away from his well toned chest, but something is making it so I can't.
"Sunwoo." I flinch a bit, looking at Juyeon, who was now looking at me.
"Can you pass me my towel, please." He calls. I nod, grabbing his towel as he swims over.
I grab the soft towel as the male sits on the edge of the pool, with just his feet in. I give it to him, making him smile. Our hands touch and I felt as if I was shocked. I pull my hand back quickly as Juyeon chuckles. He pats the spot next to him.
"Sit." He instructs.
"Your scared, why?" He asks.
"W-W-What?" I stutter.
"Your scared, I can feel it. What is causing you to be scared?" He questions.
"There's no point in lying...you would know. Its all this... this whole mate thing." I admit, looking at my feet that are now in the pool.
"What is scary about it?" He calls.
"Just...a new feeling I guess. I don't like being tied down." I confess.
"I can tell." He said with a laugh.
"Your my alpha aren't you." I said, looking at him.
"I am. You know you can rej-"
I cut him off by crashing my lips onto his. I close my eyes as I place my hands on his cheeks. I pull him closer as his hands rest on my waist. He growls lowly, pushing me down so my back was flat against the floor. I look up at him as he pulls away slightly.
"Your my mate Kim Sunwoo. You belong to me. I will love you, protect you and care for you. I expect the same from you." Juyeon said, as he hovers above me.
"Y-Yes alpha." I reply. 
Juyeon smirks and leans down to kiss my lips again, I feel electricity running through my veins, I could feel all of his emotions, what he was feeling right now. When he pulls away again, the same smirk is on his face.
"One last thing." He begins.
"Y-Yes?" I call.
"I'm in charge." He tells me.
I nod as he moves off me and slips back into the pool. I head into the kitchen to grab a cold drink. I have so many feelings, I know I'll have to talk to the others later.
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renee-writer · 2 years
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Out of Time Chapter Eighteen
AO3
“She lives.” He reports. The voice on the other end is low with disbelief.
“That,” as crisp as the first winter winds, “is impossible.”
“Apparently not.” Frank’s voice holds satisfaction. He had fought to get her spared now, it seems she has spared herself.
“If this is true then she and all that are with her, must be taken out.”
“Sir?” he can’t be hearing what he thinks he is.
“Eliminated Captain Randall. With extreme prejudice. Immediately. She trust you and will allow you in. Take them out.”
“There are children in there sir.”
“Not the ones we spared. Take them out or we will take you out.” The voice disappear s leaving a shocked Frank staring at his phone.
“This is?” she points at the letter on the board.
“F.” Faith replies.
“Very good. Now can you give me a word beginning with F?”
She will say Faith, Mary thinks. The child surprises her. “Fergus.” He looks up at the math paper her is working on. A week of school work has passed. The children are a bit more settled. The nightmares continue. But they don’t last the entirety of the night anymore. Mary is impressed by the children’s intellect. They are all anxious to learn.
Meanwhile, Jamie and Claire are anxious to get to the bottom of what the mist is and how to fight against it. There are some testing kits in the bunker. The issue is getting a sample of the mist without putting the bunker at risk.
Claire paces across the floor. Jamie is updating his notes on each of them. He is determined to figure out if the mist and it’s consequences have caused any unseen reactions in them. This extraordinary time needs documented for Mary’s baby and all that come after.
“There must be a way. If I can figure out what is in it then maybe I can kill it.”
“Then we can go outside?” William asks. He is reading a book that was left there. It is way above his grade level but, he was doing well with it.
She and Jamie share a look. Good question. It isn’t just the mist that is dangerous. It is all those bodies. “We will be closer lad.”
He nods at Jamie’s answer.
He travels through the wasteland. The mask protects him from the smells of a dead population. He is immune to the Mist. The mask will also protect him from Claire’s questions. He must pretend he is as scared of the Mist as she is. Until…
“Are you really going to do this?” he asks himself. He doesn’t have much of choice. They will if he doesn’t. Not gently either as punishment for his disobedience. Then they will kill him.
He shouldn’t have told. He thought they would be happy or, at least curious about, survivors. No, they just want them dealt with. Can he? He isn’t sure. Claire was his first love, then there are the children.
“Don’t think about it.” He orders himself. He distracts himself by studying the dead. The Mist was designed to kill fast then cause rapid decomposition. From what he sees, it is doing just that. One thing that went right. With a sigh, he moves closer to where his job awaits.
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berryshiara · 1 year
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Daughters of War Chapter Eighteen
A very intimate chapter between our favorite ladies. A growing hunger fills them, but words must first be said, and old scars soothed.
Shout out to @kelenloth for being an awesome sounding board and cheer squad. I appreciate you deeply. <3
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avocado-frog · 2 years
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Forget-me-not. 18
Chapter rating: T Chapter warnings: Past eye trauma, (elliot) death threats (sam) Word count: 3,500 Chapter title: 2/6/2019 Summary: Ryan's recovery from having almost drowned. Leo finds out what happened to Elliot. Jaxon watches Finding Nemo
The attic was, slowly but surely, becoming the room where they kept their sick people. Of course, it was winter, and there were nine people living together in one house, none of which had legal access to the hospital.
Naturally, the triplets had gotten sick the first week they'd been out of the lab, having barely been exposed to other people, or let outside. Ryan had been quite clingy and would literally cry if someone wasn't in the same room for over two minutes, Sam hadn't let it deter him at all, pretending like he was fine, while Elliot had been angry at everything, if that was at all surprising to anyone, ever.
Leo hadn't known how to handle it then, and she certainly didn't know how to handle it now.
Last time, she had simply left it to Logan and Cass. This time, Logan was at work, and Cass was at school. This time, it was only Leo and Jaxon, who had felt guilty for leaving the kid alone in the first place. Sam and Elliot had wanted to stay home, and usually, Leo would've been fine with that, but she didn't want Sam hovering over his brother the whole day, and she didn't even know what Elliot would do. Maybe he just wanted to skip school. Leo knew he was still having a difficult time, though he had started to make a handful of friends. Sam had practically befriended his entire school, teachers and all.
Overall, Leo wasn't equipped to handle a sick child. Jaxon wasn't, either. Leo gently opened the door to the attic, careful not to close it again, as it had the tendency to lock on it's own. Ryan was simply laying on a mattress Leo had put in, drinking juice from a green straw, staring at whatever movie happened to be playing.
She cleared her throat to announce her presence, though he didn't look over at her, but she knew he heard her. He tapped his hand against the floor in response.
She made sure to stay with the kid for as long as possible. She wasn't worried about getting pneumonia from him. She didn't think she could find it in her to leave him alone, after what he told her.
("They injected some virus in me," he admitted, and held his wrist out. There was a small, circular scar. "Some sort of experiment. I don't know. They locked me in a room by myself for a month, even though I wasn't sick after two weeks. I think I was eight or nine.")
And Leo hated everything about that story. Whenever Ryan opened his mouth, and started a sentence with there was one time, Leo was already sure she would hate the next words he spoke.
It was the same with Elliot. He was usually perfectly fine talking about his past experiences, mostly nonchalant about whatever he had gone through, though sometimes he would start crying, or panicking, or he would suddenly get angry. He would only get angry, though, when talking about something he didn't have back then, that he knew Ryan and Sam had.
Ryan would talk about his own experiences sometimes, always a bit nervous to share, because he could remember everything. Lily had called it hyperthymesia, or something like that. Even if he was talking about something good, from before the kidnapping, he was still nervous to tell her. As Leo had come to learn, her mother's name had been Olivia, Sam's favorite animal was an eagle, and Elliot had been very close with their mother, as well as Ryan and Sam. He also used to be a lot more energetic, and lively. The Elliot Leo knew was apathetic, and filled with a deep rage.
Sam never talked about the lab, never mentioned anything from before, claiming to not remember how their mother died, despite how Elliot and Ryan both could. He would change the subject when it came up, grin never faltering. He pretended it was a bad dream, like it hadn't happened. He remembered more than he was letting on, Leo could tell. It was a little worrying. She could try to get him to open up, but he was more likely to talk to Ryan or Jaxon about it. 
Leo almost snorted at the movie that was playing, the movie where the disabled fish is kidnapped, and the traumatized dad fish goes on a mission with another disabled fish to find his kid, or something. She didn't watch a lot of kid's movies when she was younger, though living with Dylan and the triplets (Jaxon too, who watched kid's movies almost exclusively) had gotten her accustomed to them. She couldn't understand how Ryan could stand watching something that took place underwater after what had happened the day before.
...Leo was going to find and kill the kid who pushed him. Jaxon insisted it had been an accident, that one of the group had run to get him, and that another had been about to call 911, but Jaxon had told them to wait, because if they called, he and Ryan would both get sent back to the lab, and that wouldn't be good for anyone. Even Ryan had said it was fine. Still, Leo and Sam both agreed to commit a murder that afternoon.
"Hey." Leo sat down on the floor by Ryan's mattress. He looked at her, acknowledging her presence, and nodded in her direction. "Still dying?"
Ryan hummed flatly, making a so-so motion with his hand. He then proceeded to cough violently. Leo winced, leaning back.
"Well, stop it. I can't handle a sick kid, let alone a dead one."
"I'm not dying unless I'm killed," Ryan mumbled, and coughed again. "You can't get rid of me that easily."
Leo almost snorted again. "Did Elliot just possess you? Or are you just so salty about being sick that you've channeled your brother into your soul?"
That was definitely either something Elliot said, or something the boy would say within the next week or so. It had to have been a direct quote.
Ryan answered by mumbling something unintelligible, and Leo nodded sagely.
"Let me know if you need anything," Leo responded, patting him on the head. She couldn't tell if he had a fever, being unable to feel heat and all, but that only applied to very hot temperatures, which was mildly concerning. She would have to find the only other person in the house until the rest of the kids came back from school, and Logan from work.
"The sweet release of death."
Leo's gaze snapped over to him. "Seriously, I'm starting to think Elliot chopped off his hair, dyed it black, and grew an eye. Are you sure your brother isn't possessing you?"
Ryan yawned, breathed in too deeply, and coughed again. "I'm pretty sure that if Elliot possessed me, he would've gotten me hit with a car by now. He still doesn't like me."
Leo hummed. "Really? I think he's warming up to you. He definitely doesn't like Sam still."
Leo wanted to ask why, because she knew Ryan knew the answer. Ryan always seemed a bit sad when someone pointed out that the two didn't like each other (one-sided, as Sam liked Elliot, and actively tried to be around him, while Elliot did the opposite) so she wouldn't pry. Maybe Elliot would tell her eventually, because she had asked why he hated his brothers once before, and he said that he didn't know why.
There was definitely a bit of jealousy in the beginning. The three came out of the lab, pale and thin and exhausted, but Elliot was different from the other two. He looked nine times his own age, and yet four years smaller than he really was, still apathetic and depressed, but angry. Leo remembered how he stood up from where he had been sitting in the van, the spot next to her, walked over to Sam, stared at him, maybe he spoke, Leo couldn't hear, and sat down again, leaning on her arm. He still did that, whenever he sat down next to someone, he would lean on them. He almost had a panic attack, the most emotion she had seen in him, before he steadied himself, and looked like he dissociated.
There was clear jealousy, because Ryan and Sam, in the lab, had each other. They each had beds, a bathroom attached to their room, books, pillows, blankets, some toys, and according to Jaxon, Elliot had nothing. Elliot had a beat up stuffed rabbit that no one was allowed to touch, and a pile of garbage. That could have been why he was always so angry at his brothers, but Leo couldn't help but wonder why they had been separated in the first place.
"I wish they would start getting along," Ryan said, his voice a small whisper. He looked a bit sad, melancholic. "Sam's only mean to him because Elliot's mean to Sam. Sam doesn't even try to be mean unless Elliot is. I don't get why he's not mad at me, too. I guess he is mad at me, but only 'cause he didn't have anything in his room back then. He should be angrier at me, we both hurt him." 
He looked up at Leo, silver eyes rimmed with red and looking tired. He looked a little scared, like he'd said the wrong thing. Leo, worried, motioned for him to continue.
The movie playing- Leo couldn't remember what it was called for the life of her- was a huge contrast with the dark mood Ryan had set up all of a sudden. His gaze darkened, he shifted anxiously, fidgeted with the cup in his hands, eyes darting around.
"I can't tell you."
Leo knew better than to trust a kid when they said that they couldn't tell you something. She had only worked with tutoring kids for a few months, but the sentence could range from stealing a piece of candy from their parents, to something extreme. No matter what it was, when a kid said that something was a secret, it was almost always something bad.
"Why not?" Leo asked, pressing further. Something she typically didn't do. If one of the kids didn't tell her something, then that was that, and she wouldn't say anything else.
Ryan looked away, shoulders hunching a little. "You'll hate me, and I don't want to lose anyone again."
"Well, you're wrong." Leo shrugged. "You could tell me that you burned down an entire city and I still wouldn't hate you. You won't lose anybody, either. I'm staying right here. Like it or not, you're stuck with me."
He glanced at her, hesitant. "You promise?"
Leo nodded. "Promise."
Ryan took a small breath. "Okay. But you can't tell anyone else about this. Not yet."
"I won't say a word, Ry. This can stay between you and me until you're ready." She tried to give him a reassuring smile, one that he returned, a bit shakily.
"I... stabbed Elliot in the eye."
And Leo almost did a double take. Because holy shit she had not expected that. She took a breath, trying not to let the shock show on her face.
"But you have to understand-" He grew frantic all of a sudden, eyes widening. Leo didn't think he'd tell her this if he wasn't sick. "They were going to kill Sam, and I-I couldn't let them, so- they said- a-and-"
He started crying, hunching in on himself, and Leo hesitated, hand hovering over his back. She had literally no clue what to say to that.
"Well." Leo leaned forward, pulling him in for a hug. She didn't mind if she got sick from him. He clung to the back of her hoodie. "He forgave you, didn't he?"
"No," Ryan mumbled, and sniffed. Leo grimaced at the sound. "He doesn't know it was me."
Leo blanked. "How? He was there, wasn't he?"
By there, she meant mentally, mostly, because Elliot dissociated concerningly often, a side effect of the prolonged isolation. Ryan shook his head.
"It was like he couldn't see me. They brought me to his room and locked the door, and I tried to talk to him, but he just wouldn't listen. He was just walking around, talking to himself. He wasn't even there when I-"
He broke down again, and Leo hugged him a bit tighter.
"But now I can't tell him, because he'll hate me. And everyone else will, too."
"Hey," Leo whispered, trying to calm him down. She was not good at this part. "No one will hate you for this. Have you ever seen Cass get angry? Literally, the worst she's gotten is a bit stern. Logan, too. I don't think Jaxon is capable of anger."
Ryan didn't seem convinced. "I'm the worst person ever."
"Well, that's not true."
"Yes it is."
"Wrong." Leo tapped him on the head for emphasis. "You did one bad thing, that you really regret, right?"
A nod. Good, they were getting somewhere. "But, ever since then, you keep trying to make up for it. Don't even try to deny it, I noticed how you acted towards Elliot the first few weeks."
He would sneak Elliot a handful of extra food when the younger boy wasn't paying attention, he would check in with him before bed at night, to make sure he was okay, he would try to include him when Sam forgot he was there.
"What you did was the right thing to do in the moment," Leo continued. "From the sound of it, you weren't exactly given a choice."
"He was quiet."
Leo glanced down at him. "Hm?"
"After it happened, he just sort of... collapsed. He stared at me for a while, on the floor. Sam ran over to me, and Elliot just stared. He didn't-"
"Relax," Leo rubbed her thumb in a small circle on his shoulder. "You're okay. Everything is okay now, yeah?"
"...I was really scared to tell you."
Leo hummed. "Why's that?"
Ryan went quiet again, but his grip on the back of her jacket became a bit tighter. "You seem way closer to Elliot than me or Sam. If you found out that I hurt him, I don't know..."
Ah. She understood now. "Hey, I don't pick favorites. I like all of you twerps just the same."
"...Except Lily?"
"I like Lily a little bit less."
Ryan huffed a laugh, and disconnected from their hug. She ruffled his hair as he regained his position on the mattress.
"Now, let's watch your stupid fish movie, even though you almost drowned yesterday."
Ryan stuck his tongue out at her. Leo returned the gesture.
"What do you think Jaxon's doing?" Ryan asked, after about ten more minutes of the movie. Leo was certain that an animated kid's film had never irritated and confused her so badly.
"Probably typical Jaxon stuff." Leo shrugged. "Enjoying the fact that he doesn't have to go to school. Playing video games. Leaving chips all over the floor-" Leo shivered at the thought. Dylan wouldn't even clean in there, at this point. They said it would require seven forensic scientists. Leo didn't know if Dylan knew what a forensic scientist was. "Want to call him and force him to watch your fish movie?"
Ryan brightened a little at the idea, so Leo pulled her phone out, scrolling through her contact list of about fifteen people (her friends made up four, her siblings made up four as well, her cousins made up two, there were Kai's parents, her grandmother, and her aunt and uncle, who she should block) until she found Jaxon. It dialed twice, before he picked up.
"...Hello?"
"Hey. What're you doing?"
Ryan paused the TV, intrigued about their conversation. He leaned closer a little bit to hear.
"Trapped in a binder," Jaxon replied conversationally. "It sucks and I think I'm just going to vibe with it for a while. What do you need?"
"Ha, nerd. Ry and I are watching some movie, and the plot is really stressing me out. When you're done freeing yourself from a piece of fabric, want to come join us?"
"Yeah, okay." There were some noises of obvious struggling on the other end, a loud swear in Spanish, and the sound of something- possibly Jaxon himself- falling. Leo snickered. "Don't laugh at me-"
Ryan turned away, hiding a laugh behind his hand. Leo chuckled a bit.
"Anyways-" more struggling, "-what are you watching?"
Leo looked at Ryan, who clicked a button on the remote to show her the title of the movie. "Finding Nemo."
There was a pause. "You're watching Finding Nemo, and the plot is stressing you out? What the fuck kind of Finding Nemo are you watching? Did a slasher horror film come out based on it? Have you literally never seen it before?"
"I don't know why he's so surprised," Ryan muttered from where he sat on a pillow. "He's the one who put the movie on."
Leo swatted at his general direction. "No, I have never seen Finding Nemo before. I'm almost an adult."
Jaxon made a sound akin to a car low on fuel. "The second I get out of this binder prison, I am coming up there and beating you to death with a stick for your crimes."
"Yeah, yeah, sure." Leo waved him off through the phone, though he couldn't see her. "Bring popcorn too, will you?"
Jaxon hummed an affirmative, and hung up. Leo snickered a little at the end of their conversation.
"Jaxon's coming up in a bit. And he may or may not kill us both for never seeing Finding Nemo. But hey, he's bringing popcorn."
Upon seeing Ryan look a bit worried, she continued. "Logan only has the kind without butter. He stopped buying dairy stuff anyways."
Ryan nodded, and shifted in his seat again.
"Thanks for not being upset about everything," Ryan whispered, his voice sounded smaller than normal. Leo smiled.
"Yeah, of course. I'll help you tell the others when you're ready."
A slow nod from Ryan, and they decided to wait to continue the movie until Jaxon came back. The boy showed up after fifteen minutes, a large, red bowl in hand.
Jaxon plopped down next to Ryan on the mattress, putting him in the middle between Jaxon and Leo, and the bowl in front.
"I put some Skittles in the popcorn, too!" Jaxon grinned brightly, and Leo smiled, nodding gratefully. "Leo, you've seriously never seen this movie before? It's as old as you are!"
Ryan unpaused the movie, seemingly enjoying their fake arguing.
"Deadass, never watched it."
Jaxon stared at her, eyes wide. "Come on, Leo! Don't you have a collection of movies at your cousin's house?"
"VHS tapes," Leo informed him. "This was not on any of them."
Jaxon scoffed. "Okay, so there's ten minutes left in this one, so we're going to finish, and then we're going to watch every Disney movie in order."
"This isn't Disney," Ryan pointed out with a small grin. Jaxon nodded in his direction.
"That's true, that's true. I just don't want to watch Up."
Leo glanced at him. "What's that?"
Ryan snickered, and Jaxon gasped loudly. "Dude! What did you even do before we met? Did you have hobbies?! Or were you just sulking in your room being evil for fifteen and a half years?"
"Sulking and being evil, actually."
They had five hours until the other kids got home, but they would continue their movies the next day, Leo was sure. Starting with Snow White, Ryan fell asleep during Peter Pan, three or four hours into their marathon. Leo was a bit tired herself, now accompanied by the light weight of a sleeping child leaning on her arm.
The door shut downstairs, Jaxon and Leo both turned their heads to glance at the door, sharing a look. Ryan stirred a bit, being a light sleeper.
"Guess it's three o'clock already," Jaxon said, like he hadn't checked the time in a while. Because really, it had flown past them both. "I'm already really tired."
Leo nodded, yawning in agreement. "I've got to talk to Logan about the trip next month anyways."
She stood up, gently detaching herself from Ryan, laying him down on the blankets. Jaxon followed, picking up the bowl of finished popcorn.
"Trip?" Jaxon tilted his head a little.
"Going to visit my cousins for a bit, remember? You guys are coming with, apparently."
"Ah." Jaxon nodded. He looked at her for a minute, studying her, debating something. "Are you going to stay there? Since your parents- I mean, your aunt and uncle are gone, everything should be cleared up now."
"Oh." Leo looked away. She hadn't thought about it. It hadn't even occurred as an option. "I don't think so. No, I'm not going to stay there. Unless Logan tells me to."
"Which he won't." Jaxon looked relieved. The conversation ended as two smaller figures tumbled into the room.
"Hey, nerds." Leo greeted her other brothers, who seemed to be getting along that day, as they held each other's hands tightly, looking nervous. "Your brother's fine."
Sam exhaled softly, but Elliot still looked almost scared.
"I've been worrying about him all day! He could've died yesterday, I-"
Leo blocked out most of Elliot's rambling, replacing her listening skills with concern. This was unlike him. Sam tugged on her sleeve.
"He really has been worrying," Sam said, and fidgeted with something in his hand. Looked like one of the fidget cubes Dylan and Jaxon had. "It's weird."
"Well, maybe he's just getting better." Leo smiled, and patted him on the head. "Anyways, Ryan's sleeping now, but you two can stay with him. If you get sick, I'm not staying with you guys like I did for him. This is Cassie's problem now."
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cartoonfangirl1218 · 2 years
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More Needs to Change Ch. 18
Chapter written by moi
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