#she's hope county's big sister and she's exhausted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

quentinbecks · 3 years

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Summary: Charlie left Hope County years ago hoping never to come back. But when she learns of her parents involvement with the local doomsday cult, she finds herself heading back to a life she thought she left behind. (Begins two years before the reaping/events of the game)

Words: 5 k

Warnings: The typical lack of boundaries from the Seeds, slight use of violence, mentions of violence and death, peer pressure to use drugs (bliss), and this is a big one, lots of talk of anxiety/ build up to a panic attack.

A/N: Thank you so much to @adelaidedrubman and @johnnycranes for being my betas/second and third eyes on this! And to @smut-goblin for hitting me with the writing stick! You have no idea how much I appreciate you guys 💕 Since the atonement process begins now, hopefully I can start putting these out in a timely manner from here on out.

Chapter 4: Snakes in the Garden

“We’ll begin the process of atonement immediately.”

Charlie glances up at the man through her lashes. She should be trying to run away; pushing his hands off of her face, but she can’t. Frozen in place with John’s hands cupping her cheeks; their foreheads pressed together. From this angle she can see all the freckles that adorn his neck and collarbone. It almost makes him seem human.

“I thought,” she stammers, “I thought I was just getting baptized. That’s what we agreed to.”

John sighs, pulling away to look down at her; hands still gripping her face. “You will be cleansed, you will confess all of your sins, and then you will atone. That’s the only way you can reach true salvation. And you did just promise me you would allow me the gift of saving you,” he grits out, the hold on her face getting tighter as he goes on.

Charlie squirms away, attempting to free herself without making matters worse. “You’re hurting me,” she hisses as she grabs a hold of his hands. She may be willing to play along with his mind games; keep up whatever foolish charade she needs to to stay safe, but she draws the line at having pain inflicted on her.

The Baptist just nods as he backs away, hands held up as if to show her he won’t touch her.

Too fucking late.

But there was no apology, and Charlie can’t really say she’s surprised. “Listen,” she says as she leans against the brick wall, fingers rubbing the spots where her face was held, “you can have my soul or my salvation or whatever the fuck it is you want. But what happens to me afterwards?”

If she’s being honest, Charlie is afraid of the answer. Does she get to have a normal life? Just one within the parameters of the cult’s rules? Will they force her to marry another member of the project in one of those giant, mass weddings like the Moonies? Or will they just kill her? It’s selfish and would be a great betrayal to her friends, but she would marry The Father himself if it meant keeping them safe.

John sighs, sitting on the couch, legs crossed and arms spread across the back; posture too casual for such a tense environment. “I think it’s best we take the process day by day.”

Charlie glares at the man, only receiving a chuckle in return as he notices her olive eyes fill with rage. “Relax, sweetheart. I won’t send you back up to the mountains; back up to my big, bad, brother.”

Sitting down in the chair across from him, Charlie wills herself to calm down. The shock of the situation is starting to wear off rapidly and she can feel the panic inside her start to rise just as fast.

“Can we at least discuss the immediate future? Like, me going home?”

“What,” John teases, a hint of faux sadness in his voice, “you don’t like it here?”

Not really she thinks. But she would rather not vocalize her thoughts; too tired from all of the youngest Seed’s threats and games. She’s pretty sure she’ll combust from stress if she has to stay at the ranch a moment longer.

“Haven’t you had enough fun tormenting me for one day. I’m just,” her voice shakes and she can feel her heart start to pound; her anxiety starting to make itself known, “not in the mood for this shit. Please. Just let me go home.”

Charlie wishes she could kick her own ass at this very moment. Uncomfortable with becoming so emotional in front of John, but there was only so long that false sense of bravado and heroism could last. But the sight of his guest on the verge of a nervous breakdown does seem to have an effect on the man.

“Wait here.” He says, standing up and heading towards the door. He turns back before stepping out to look at her. “Don’t leave before I get back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

John just gives her a smirk before leaving. Flopping back onto the chair with a sigh, Charlie closes her eyes. She’s sure trying to take a power nap in a herald’s house is just asking for trouble, but she’s too exhausted to care.

She’s barely relaxed for more than thirty seconds when the door bursts open causing her to jump.

“Charlene, this is Deanna. She’ll be taking you back.”

“What about you?” Charlie cringes inwardly at herself. Now she knows she really needs to get out of here, the environment is clearly taking a toll on her sanity quicker than she anticipated.

A faint smile creeps across John’s lips before he rights himself. “Don’t worry. Deanna is one of my most trusted chosen.”

Charlie takes in the woman she’s being handed off to. She’s not much older than her, tall, tan, and athletic. She can tell by the excited grin on the chosen’s face that the other woman will most likely get on her nerves.

“Hello, sister,” Deanna says with a wave.

“We’re not quite there yet.”

“Here,” John drops a white hardcover on her lap. “Try to read this before your baptism.”

Charlie thumbs through the book curiously. She may not have had any sort of religious education, but she’s pretty sure this isn’t the traditional Christian text.

“Is this a bible?”

“It’s the Book of Joseph.” The chosen chirps from across the room. “It shows us the hardships the Father went through and how God spoke to him and showed him the path; the path that would save us all from the Collapse.”

“Sounds enlightening.”

“It is.” John is behind her now, hands on her shoulders. “But as much as I would love to keep you here to continue this conversation, I thought you wanted to leave.”

Charlie recoils at his usage of the word “keep”. She can’t see the man, but she’s sure he’s wearing an arrogant smirk; a smirk that she would happily slap off of his face if she wasn’t trying to behave.

Nodding, she gets up. “Thank you for the talk. It’s been… eye-opening.”

John leans over the chair as he beams at her. “I’m just glad you agreed to let me,” he pauses as if he’s contemplating his words, “work with you.”

“Well, you didn’t leave me with much of a choice. Certain death or,” she gestures towards him, “you. And I like being alive, thank you very much.”

Charlie doesn’t bother to wait for a response, pushing past the chosen and out the door to wait on the steps. She doesn’t need to wait very long as Deanna follows after her almost immediately. “My truck’s down there,” the woman points down the driveway to an old, white pickup with a black Eden’s Gate sigil on the hood.

Following silently behind the other woman, she tries to catch her breath. Relax, she chants to herself internally. In only twenty minutes you’ll be safe. Charlie tells herself she can do this as she gets in the car. All she has to do is wait a few, short minutes and she can scream and cry as much as she wants to.

The car ride is silent for the most part and Charlie is glad for it. Until about halfway to her parent’s house when the chosen turns to look at her nervously. “So,” she pauses, chewing on her lip, “are you excited to be joining the project?”

Charlie gives her a snort in response. Leaning her head against the glass, she closes her eyes. “That’s an overstatement.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have you here. I really like your mom.” Deanna gives her a grin before turning back to the road. “And besides, we don’t have many young women. It’ll be nice to have a friend.”

Friend Charlie scoffs. “Let’s just take this day by day,” she says, repeating the exact phrase John used on her earlier.

She’s relieved to see her parent’s house come into view as they turn the bend. Grabbing onto the handle, the young woman prepares to jump out the minute the truck pulls into the drive.

Charlie goes to shut the door when Deanna calls out to her. “I know you’re scared or angry or whatever it is you’re feeling, but I’m happy you’re here. Maybe we’ll even get to work at the ranch together.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Slamming the door closed, Charlie heads towards the house. She looks back to watch the chosen back out. Once she’s absolutely sure she’s gone, Charlie heads to the bunker in the backyard.

Clutching The Book of Joseph that hasn’t left her hands since she left John’s house, she climbs down the ladder. Charlie gags once she’s inside the bunker, the musty air that hits her makes her think that it’s been years since anyone has been down there.

She barely makes it to the couch before her breath becomes labored, adding to her already rising blood pressure. Tossing the book on the sofa she begins to pace around the room. What is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to explain this to Eli? Will Mary May even trust her again after this?

Letting out a frustrated cry, Charlie slinks to the floor. She has to make them understand she’s doing this for them.

But are you really? Pops into her mind. She offered to join the project the moment she felt her life was in danger, not her friends. Protection for her friends only came as part of the bargain after she agreed to have her soul saved.

But is it really wrong to want to save yourself? To value your own life? Not really, she thinks. Trying not to dwell too hard on the guilt that’s eating at her, Charlie goes to pick up the radio she notices lying dusty and dormant on the desk.

Blowing the dust off, she turns the dials until she finds the channel that would reach Eli and the Wolf’s Den.

Pausing to sniffle, she presses down on the button to talk. “Hello? Eli? Tammy? Anyone? It’s Charlie.” She clears her throat awkwardly as she waits for a response. “Um, over?” She adds.

“Ya know, it’s not really necessary to say over.”

“I know, Wheaty, but no one was answering.”

Charlie can hear the younger man laugh into the microphone. “Well, ya gotta give us more than ten seconds to get to the radio, Charlie.”

“Patience has never been my strong suit.” Sighing, she bites her lip. Not sure of how to go about relaying the message about the mole in the militia; not even sure she should be telling them this. But, it’s the right thing to do. And it’s not like she made a promise to John about what she would do with the information either way.

“Is Eli around?”

“He’s out scoutin’ right now. Whatcha need?”

Charlie knows it’s not Wheaty who’s the betrayer, but she has a bad feeling about repeating the news over the airwaves.

“Is anyone else from the militia there?”

There’s a long pause over the line as she waits for the young militiaman’s answer.

“It’s just me and Tammy here. Why what’s wrong?”

Picking up the radio, Charlie goes to sit on the dilapidated couch. She takes in a deep breath, trying to quell the feeling in her gut that’s telling her she’s making a mistake.

“Tell them that there’s a snake in the garden. They snitched on me to the Seeds. They know I killed one of Jacob’s hunters and I-”

“Who is it? Are you at The Veteran’s Center?” Wheaty interrupts her. There’s a hitch in his breath as he asks his next question. “Did they take you?”

“No,” Charlie can feel tears start to fall and she digs her nails into her thigh to stop herself from openly showing her distress, “but I can’t come back to the Wolf’s Den anymore. That’s why I need you to report back to Eli, shit even Tammy, what I just told you.”

“But why-”

She lets out a deep sigh before cutting him off. “Can you just trust me? I’m trying to protect you. All I ask in return is you get rid of your rat infestation.”

Charlie waits, the static of the radio the only response.

“You got it.”

“Thanks, kid. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

And with that she flicks off the power, unable to continue the conversation; unable to accept her newly minted fate.

Tossing the machine onto the ground, Charlie falls back onto the couch. She decides to spend the rest of her day inside the bunker, certain her parents won’t come searching for her here. She isn’t ready to hear the exuberance of her mother when she tells her the news of her joining the cult; if it was up to her she would have offered Charlie’s hand in marriage the moment she had stepped foot onto the compound.

Though, Christine has probably already found out if John was actually telling the truth about there being a meeting. She can’t bear to think about the two of them conspiring about her; about her future. It’s too much to deal with. The whole day has been too emotionally taxing for the young woman.

Charlie reaches behind her, picking up the stray Book of Joseph; her curiosity getting the better of her. She’s pretty sure the whole book will be monotonous; mundane monologues about their terrible childhoods. It’s the same bullshit with every cult leader. Regardless, she wants to find the juicy bits for future ammunition for the next time John Seed wants to throw jabs at her about her own youth. They’re alike, her ass.

Opening the book to a random page, Charlie settles in. Admittedly, the book is a hard read, both from Joseph’s unreliable narration and the abuse the two eldest Seeds regularly suffered. What catches her eye, though, are the bits of a young, barely more than a toddler, John being beaten; abuse so bad it forced the brothers into foster homes.

The new information forces Charlie to slam the book shut. She can’t help but feel guilt and pity for the man, all of them if she’s being honest, but especially John. She doesn’t know if these feelings are stemming from the parental neglect she suffered as a kid or if it’s because of her own desperate desire to become a mother; to be able to give a child a life she was deprived of. She doesn’t even know if any of this is actually; maybe it’s all a ploy for people like her to feel empathy for them.

Shaking her head, Charlie closes her eyes. Do not think of them as anything more than the monsters they are, she chides herself.

Curling up into a ball on the couch, she tries to relax; tries to clear her mind of all the dizzying emotions that came from today. After what feels like hours of breathing exercises and mantras to shut her brain off, she finally falls asleep.

The nightmare is the same as it is every night. Charlie finds herself being hunted through the Whitetails by one of Jacob’s red camo clad chosen. And just like always she kills them; just as it happened in real life. But this time, the outcome has changed.

It’s still her blood splattered face that’s exposed after the ski mask is ripped off, but the eyes staring back at her are no longer the hazel eyes of the recently deceased hunter. This time they’re sky blue; blue like the eye color shared by all of the male Seeds.

Charlie wakes up with a start. Heart racing wildly, she puts her palm over her chest in a vain attempt to calm it down.

“Fuck me.”

She’s no dream interpreter, but Charlie is definitely concerned this means something. Means that she’s become prey to the Seeds; that she’s become some sort of toy for them to play with at will. It’s distressing, especially since she’s worked for years to ensure she would never be in such a vulnerable position with men again. And now here she is; in the belly of the beast, but this time it’s worse. This time it’s with cult leaders rather than a gaslighting husband.

“I need a drink,” she mutters to herself as she sits up.

Charlie heads up to her parents house, the early summer sun blinding her as she exits the bunker. “Mom? Daddy?” she calls out once she’s made it back inside. The calls for her parents are met with dead silence.

Searching through rooms gives her no leads on where they could be until she finds a note plastered to the refrigerator.

“Princess,

Mammon and I will be out for most of the day. You can find your mother up at Black Horse Peak if there’s an emergency. I’ll be out fishing on the bay with a few friends from church. Both of us should be back by dinner time. Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone, ma fille.

Love,

Papa”

Charlie sighs. She was hoping to not be alone after the nightmare she had, let alone the day she had previously. But, on the bright side now she has time to come up with a way to explain to her parents about her change of heart towards Eden’s Gate.

Deciding the best course of action would be to tell them over dinner; a dinner where she can spike her own drink to take the edge off. There’s no worries about them being disappointed or angry with her. No, she needs to drink to hide the disappointment in her own mother who will be delighted that her boss managed to break down her daughter into joining his family’s cult. In one day too. What a feat!

A couple hours pass with Charlie trying and failing to concoct a meal when there’s a knock at the door. Immediately going on guard since she wasn’t expecting any guests, she grabs a kitchen knife off the counter.

As she heads over to the door she peeks outside the window to see who her surprise visitor is. None other John Seed is standing there on her porch; a look of fury written all over his face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she says, slamming the knife down on the entrance table.

Opening the door with a bit of trepidation, Charlie begins to panic. Why would he come here when he could have just had her brought to him? Why come when she’s all alone? The normally well-coiffed Seed looks frazzled; his usual slick backed hair falling loosely in his face.

“What do you want?” she asks through the crack in the door. Instead of giving her a response, John pushes his way into the house.

“Oh, okay. Please, come inside,” Charlie grumbles as she slams the door shut.

She watches as John paces through the living room; watching as he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a dark chuckle as he does so. The situation started out unsettling and now it’s just flat out creeping her out.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” John asks, finally looking up at her.

Charlie blinks at him trying to understand what she could have possibly done in the last twenty four hours to anger him this badly. And then it dawns on her. She told the Whitetails about the mole amongst them and she’s guessing Eli handled the problem.

Oops.

“What exactly did you expect me to do? Allow your brother to keep getting intel on my friends? So he could, what, pounce on them when the timing was right? I don’t think so.”

“No, you’re right.” He clears his throat before leaning against the wall, no longer manically pacing around the room, but calm and collected. “I trusted you too early; had hoped you would be grateful for the gift I’ve given you, but I see now I was mistaken. Instead, you would rather squander it and try and pull off these childish antics of yours.”

John pushes himself off the wall, slowly making his way towards her; the action preemptively making her back herself against the counter.

“But I’m not worried about it. And you know why?” He knocks on the table as he continues on.

Charlie shakes her head “no”, uncertainty over whether that was the right answer setting in.

“Because Joseph saw you walk through the Gates of Eden with us; with me. So, I know all of the trouble you’re putting us through will be worth it in the end. I just need you to recognize your purpose and start behaving.”

They’re so close now; too close for Charlie’s comfort. She puts a hand between them; her fingers lightly touching his torso. The touch makes her flinch, but after he put her face in a vice-like grip just the day before, she’s not letting him get that close again.

“Walking through the Gates of Eden? What does that even mean?” She furrows her brow, she’s pretty certain Joseph is just making up visions to have his brother keep her in line, nevertheless the possible euphemism unnerves her. “Is that like heaven? Are you here to commit a murder suicide?”

Charlie quickly realizes that that may be the wrong thing to say when she sees the scowl cross John’s face.

He leans in closer to her, forcing her makeshift barrier of her wrist to drop. “You are in no position to be making jokes, sweetheart”, the Baptist glares down at her. “Because you, Charlene, in less than three weeks have managed to get two of our chosen killed. One by your own hand and,” John looks down towards her lips, “and one by your big fucking mouth,” he hisses at her.

“Good.” Charlie shoves him away, trying to reclaim some of her personal space. “That last one snitched on me; took my life away from me. So I guess we’re even now. Eye for an eye. Isn’t that what you people believe in?”

“You know, you’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.” Sitting on their loveseat, John splays himself out as if he owns the place; the overly cocky attitude in full swing again.

Admittedly, Charlie does feel some guilt over the news of another chosen dead. There’s a part of her that’s curious about who they were in the militia, but the other part doesn’t need that on her conscience; not when the first death has been haunting her dreams nightly.

“Joseph entrusted me with your atonement; he still has faith that you’ll come around. Jacob still believes you deserve to be punished. Now I’m of two sides,” he says, leaning forward. “I believe you need to be reprimanded for this; for making some of the project’s best hunters spend their morning burying their friend. But death is too harsh.”

“What – what were you thinking of doin’?” Charlie stutters, her drawl starting to slip out.

“I was thinking of moving up your baptism. To tonight.”

“No!” Charlie all but yells as she marches over to where John is perched. “I – I haven’t even read your brother’s book yet! I don’t know what I’m getting myself into! I don’t even have anything to wear!”

She’s practically in between the man’s legs and she’s half tempted to bend down and scream in his face; make him feel as small as he constantly makes her feel. But it’s inappropriate and she immediately rights herself of the urge.

“None of that matters. All that matters to me is that you start the process soon.”

It dawns on Charlie that she should be questioning John on why he is so insistent on keeping her alive; what he meant by her walking through the Gates of Eden with him specifically. But a voice inside of her tells that she’s certain to find out sooner rather than later; and she might not like the answers she gets.

“Can I at least find something decent here to wear?”

“Yes, but,” John shifts uncomfortably, “I need you to keep the door open. I can’t trust you to not try and run.”

Charlie laughs as she heads into her parent’s room. “Where could I run to that you wouldn’t find me?”

She shuts the door a crack, partly out of habit, partly because she doesn’t want John watching her undress. The thought of him seeing her naked alone makes her grimace.

It takes her a few minutes, but she’s able to find something buried in the closet. It's pink and floral, not her usual color, but it’s a sundress and that’s all that matters to her. Pulling her shorts and cropped top off she watches in the mirror as John loiters around her family’s dining room.

Uncomfortable with the Baptist going through their belongings, she quickly pulls the dress on; tossing her honey brown hair into a ponytail.

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, you’re ready,” he says as he comes and leans on the doorframe to the bedroom. “Like I said earlier, I can’t trust you. So I need you to do me a favor before we can leave.” John pulls a flask from his jacket pocket, handing it over to her as if she’s just supposed to accept a drink from him.

“I thought you guys banned this shit? Too good for a stiff drink or two.”

“It’s not alcohol.”

Charlie scoffs. He wants to roofie her so she’ll behave; be a good girl for the Seeds. And he thinks she’s going to consent to this? Fuck that.

“Then I’m not drinking it. Not until you tell me what’s in it.” She has spent way too many years practicing drink safety to just take a drugged drink, even if the man giving it to her is warning her in advance.

“It’s bliss,” John says as if she would understand what that means. But he sees the confusion written all over her face. “It’s safe. You’ll be fine. It’ll keep you calm for a couple of hours. Enough to get you through the cleansing . And after that,” he smiles down at her, “we can work on building trust.”

“What if I say no?”

John’s smile turns sour suddenly, stepping forward to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Like I said earlier, I’ll be forced to take your sins out the people you love the-“

“Okay, enough with the threats,” Charlie groans as she snatches the flask from his hands. “You’re a huge dick, ya know that?” She shoves past him, “a real pushy asshole.”

Uncapping the flask, she takes a sniff. It’s oddly sweet smelling. Maybe it won’t be so bad? She thinks to herself. John watches her intently as she puts the container to her lips. She can’t help but feel that he’s enjoying this too much.

The drink itself is bitter in spite of its fragrant scent. The taste makes her want to throw the flask across the room; then maybe projectile vomit afterwards. She manages to get a bit down before handing it off to John.

“I think I’m ready,” she says, trying to hold the bile in her throat down.

John nods, heading out the door. Charlie starts to feel nervous as she follows suite; afraid that she may pass out and be taken to God knows where to have God knows what done to her.

“Don’t worry about the door. I’ll have one of my chosen let your family know where you are so they can join us.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, allowing John to open the car door for her to get in.

Eli and the Whitetails will come for you soon. They know you’re in trouble now and he’ll come and save you. They have to. She thinks as she watches the youngest Seed walk around the vehicle to get in as well. And she wants his head on a platter when they do.

There’s not much time to dwell on thoughts of being rescued. John has barely backed out of the driveway by the time Charlie has started seeing green and feeling dizzy. Her head drops back to fall against the cool leather of the headrest.

“I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a moment,” she slurs; eyes drooping shut. Before she knows it, she’s out cold; on the way to start the most interesting chapter of her life thus far.

#fic: stillness in woe #john seed x oc #john seed #oc: charlie berger #far cry 5 fic #yay! baptism next chapter #we’re really in it now

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punkpoemprose · 4 years

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December 6th- Fuck 2020

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature, a little explicit, this is porn without plot for the most part) Length: 4383 Words A/N: The title says it all. This fic is about Kristoff and Anna having sex on New Years Eve. TW: Mentions of COVID-19, quarantine, and generally the shittyness of this year. This is the last of my decades AUs. Hopefully someday someone will write something more flattering for the 2020′s.

Anna closed her laptop and collapsed back onto the couch. She was exhausted mentally and emotionally, but her body wasn’t tired enough to let her sleep. It had been what she’d been suffering with all year, or at least since March when the world had gone from its usual level of chaos to being utter and total bedlam. She still remembered the day she’d learned that her kids wouldn’t be coming back to the classroom, and the only slightly more terrifying day where she learned that they would, in fact be coming back.

Her head was still awash with words she’d never thought she’d need to say to a room full of five-year-olds. We have to keep our masks on. Remember, six feet apart guys, that’s like two big dogs in a line. No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a hug. She’d had to separate desks, and clean and not wipe away little tears like she normally would when a child was having a bad day.

The kids, she thought, had held up better than she had. They’d listened as well as they could, they’d followed the rules as much as they were able, and they were kind about the policies in a way that even grown adults were not. But even with all the work they’d done, even with all the kids doing their best, the second wave had hit, and now they wouldn’t be returning to school until after the middle of January, and then when it finally came about, it would be online. There was talk of vaccines in the news, and while it gave her some small spark of hope, all the changes have meant turning her holiday break into lots of online classroom prep.

It still wasn’t the worst though, she’d rather be tired than sick, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit and listen to the shower running in the next room over.

Kristoff had been given the afternoon shift for New Year’s Eve, and as per their new normal, he’d stripped down at the door after returning to their apartment, tossed all his things into the wash, and was currently showering. In the beginning, before they’d known just how bad things were, before PPE was supplied to every EMT in the county, he’d caught it.

Anna had remembered the pain of having to see him so ill, watching him suffer through what was determined to be a “mild” case of the virus while he was sequestered to their bedroom and she spent the week sleeping on the couch and barely seeing him at all except to occasionally bring him something to eat when he’d felt particularly weak. There was something particularly terrifying in watching the strongest person Anna knew, her rock, her one and only, barely able to take care of himself. He’d insisted the whole time, vehemently, that she leave to stay with her sister on the other side of town, be she’d been unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave him alone when he was so sick she wasn’t sure if he’d make it through.

But, of course, he had. His voice had been strange and unlike him for weeks after he was cleared, and Anna had spent many nights in a cold sweat thinking about just how close he’d been to being in much worse shape. They’d started their procedure then, come in the door, take off your clothes, wash anything that went into work with you, and then shower. She’d done it too, but to less of an extreme because while she’d been around kids who had potentially been sick, he spent every day with Sven facing the positively ill together and trying their best to keep them well enough to get to the hospital.

The mental strain it was putting on them, Anna having to worry everyday about him getting sick again, or one of her students or even herself catching it was a lot. But Kristoff, kind and wonderful man that he was, kept checking in at the hospital to learn whether the transports he and Sven had brought in had made it. She saw the darkness in his eye, behind his attempts at levity, on the days where they lost someone.

The water shut off, and Anna let herself imagine him behind the door, stepping out of the shower, putting his towel on, walking over to the mirror to shave and comb his wet hair. He’d started keeping it shorter than usual as a precaution, and while he always looked handsome, Anna missed the days where she’d been able to put short braids into his hair and then comb them out with her fingers. She missed the days where he’d come home, flop onto the couch and that would be the end of things until one of them made dinner.

“Hey,” he said, as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, “Are you asleep or?”

She opened her eyes and tipped her head, looking at him from across the room. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, nothing fancy because of course, despite it being New Year’s Eve, they weren’t going out anywhere. She was dressed similarly, but overtop her plain shirt, she’d thrown on her nicest cardigan, creating the illusion for the videos she’d pre-recorded, that she wasn’t on her couch in her pajamas, but instead was dressed in full teacher gear and was to be listen to closely.

“I don’t think I can do an early bedtime tonight,” she said, “Or even a nap. I have to be awake to see this year end.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t so much the sort of laugh he did when he thought she was being funny. It was much more of a chuckle, as if he were going to follow it with an expression of agreement. They both were rather done with the year, just like everyone else they knew. No one wanted to be living through a pandemic.

“Just imagine,” he said, “Maybe next year we’ll actually be able to go on a date or something.”

“Or,” Anna replied sadly, “Actually be able to reschedule our wedding.”

They’d planned a June wedding the year before. It was going to be a small affair. Just his family, Elsa, and some friends from work. They were going to have it at a ski-lodge in the mountains that also doubled as a summertime spa and nature retreat so that it would be like a vacation for everyone who attended. She could still imagine the way that they’d wanted to decorate the place, all sunflowers and mason jars and white ribbons. She had bought a dress and everything, and it was still stored in her sister’s bedroom closet.

They’d pushed it to August, but had given up on it past that, knowing as soon as September hit and she returned to school with in person students, that nothing would be changing anytime soon. Even her hope for the next year was a tentative thing, like a butterfly with a broken wing trying its damnedest to fly.

“Fuck 2020,” she said quietly, noticing the way he frowned at the mention of their cancelled wedding. He’d been looking forward to it as well, and she knew that this year had been just as upsetting for him as it had been for her. She tried not to swear very often, particularly because she was worried about being able to censor herself around the kids, but ultimately, the year deserved a middle finger and some very strong language.

He crossed the space and took her laptop from where it rested on her stomach, placing it carefully on the coffee table before he scooped her too, up and off the couch. He never had much trouble lifting her, but each time he did so unexpectedly, she was half afraid of falling. She flailed for a half a second in his arms, gasping at the change in height as it occurred.

“I’d like that,” he said with a grin, “The wedding. I know it’s just a formality, and that we’ve agreed not to do it at a courthouse or anything, but I’m so ready to call you Mrs. Bjorgman.”

“And have my students confused?” she teased, “Maybe you should be Mr. Arendelle.”

He laughed at that, but the shrugged and started walking in the direction of their bedroom, holding her bridal style as if it were already all over and done with.

“Why are we heading to bed?” she asked, only allowing herself a little hopefulness beyond her confusion. She knew why she’d like to be heading to bed, but maybe, she reasoned, he was just tired and wanted some company for a nap.

“You said, ‘fuck 2020’.”

She could see the cheeky smile on his face as he glanced down at her, still heading toward the bedroom, like a man on a mission.

“It sounded like a good idea to me.”

***

“So,” Anna said from her place below him on their bed, “In this analogy am I 2020 or?”

Kristoff laughed, and she was treated with a kiss on her knuckles as she obediently raised her arms up for him to remove her shirt. His laugh was one of the things that got her through the day, knowing that he could find humor in any situation, that she could make him laugh, was a blessing. It made things feel normal, and it was a joy for them both that they sorely needed.

“No. It’s more like we fuck each other, and we get a little extra enjoyment out of the year ending. Honestly, I didn’t think it through very much, I just wanted you and it seemed like a good excuse.”

That made her laugh, and she nodded appreciatively at the sentiment. She didn’t think that they needed to really contemplate it much as she was just happy with the opportunity to enjoy her fiancé for a little while.

“It’s a good way to pass the time until midnight,” she offered once she was free of her shirt, “I’m sure we’ll manage to keep each other awake.”

Her hands went up his shirt in return, letting her fingers travel over his the soft but muscled planes of his torso until he too removed his shirt, giving her better access to touch him as she leaned up to allow him to undo her bra’s clasps.

“It’s what? Seven?” He asked, tossing her bra in a rapidly growing pile of their clothes, “I can’t promise five hours straight, but I’ll do my best.”

His hands went up her sides, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively at the dips of her waist and across her ribs until they came up to he breasts. He cupped them gently first, and her hands moved to tracing up and down in spine in return as they found a comfortable position where she was somewhat seated in his lap, facing him. He pinched a nipple and she treated him to an appreciative moan and dragged her nails, lightly down his back.

They hadn’t had much time for intimacy as of late. Between what they both experienced at work and the stress of the holidays, even from a socially distanced standpoint, they’d mostly been using their bed for sleeping. It felt good for it to be put to better use.

“Of course, we’ll need to take a break for dinner. Maybe you’ll need a second shower with some company. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

The appreciative almost growl he made as he ducked his head down to her neck went straight through her spine and made her want to peel the rest of their clothes off and get down to business immediately. Shared shower or not, she already knew that she’d need to change her panties. If, of course, he was planning on letting her put any on before the next morning.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts while his lips kissed down her neck and she allowed herself to surrender to his touch. Everything around her was Kristoff, his hands and mouth on her, the smell of his shampoo all she could smell as she tilted her neck to give him better access and shifted a hand up to his still wet hair. Despite him being fresh from the shower and in the cooler air of their bedroom, he was hot to the touch, exactly what she wanted as her hair stood on end from the temperature and his touch.

He moved lower then, his head ducking down to lave attention on her nipples as one arm wrapped around her back to support her leaning away and the other moved down, down, across her lower stomach and to the place where her waistband still sat.

“Off?” she asked, the word all she could form as she gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth sucking and nipping at her.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely moving his mouth from her as he answered and switched sides, leaving her wet nipple to pebble against the cold.

His fingers slid a bit lower still, under the waistband of her pants, but not into her underwear as he dipped her even lower.

His arm was strong at her back, keeping her aloft and exactly where he wanted her, even as she squirmed and bucked her hips against the hand that was moving closer and closer to her clit. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t keep her from jumping when his fingers grazed her through the fabric. He knew that she was sensitive, that he needed to work her up to his direct touch, let alone anything more. They’d had their fair share of quickies of course, but when he wanted things to last, when he wanted to see her come again and again, he worked her up first.

Anna moaned, and arched in his arms, not so much from the sensation, but from the promise it offered. He really was going to try to make this last all night long.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

She gasped as he slowly stroked his fingers up and down her, no doubt feeling how wet she was through her panties but not commenting on it. Instead, using his mouth to once again kiss down her body, moving from the valley between her breasts lower and lower, tipping her back onto the bed as he went.

Not to be outdone, Anna reached up to him as she was leaned back, letting her hands travel down and over his back, reaching for his rear and giving it a squeeze. He laughed against her skin, and she felt rather satisfied by the sound as he picked up the pace on her clit and kissed her navel. Her hands slipped forward then, moving across the waistline of his sweatpants, and dipping her fingers below them as he had.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, but she did her best to wrap her hand around him. It was a challenge, but it was worthwhile to hear his breathing quicken when she managed to slide her hand up and down over his already hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. She recalled the first time they had done this, what felt like many years before, but was just a little over a year and a half ago. She remembered touching him for the first time and being scared that she wouldn’t be able to take him. The thought would have made her laugh now, if it weren’t for the fact that his attention on her clit was making her gasp instead.

When his lips had kissed as low as possible in their current position, he sat up a bit and slipped his hand from her pants. He offered her a questioning look, as he always did, and Anna stroked him again in response, sliding her hand up and down his length and rotating her wrist a bit as she did so, knowing that it was what he liked.

“Off?”

“Off,” she replied, finalizing the unspoken agreement in words before adding, “You too.”

He nodded and she rubbed her thumb against his head before she too extracted her hand, giving him a small taste of what was to come. She fully intended to take him into her mouth if he would let her. It had been too long since she’d seen him fall apart like that, staring down at her with dark eyes and strong muscles trembling under the weight of his climax.

Maybe, she thought, she might even do it while he was laying down, so she could feel him under her and enjoy the building of tension in his body that always came before the release that left him panting and melting beneath her. She loved that he let her give him pleasure. There was so much he did everyday for her, all the care to not get her ill, the many nights he cooked dinner after a long shift, how he always listened to her stresses before offering up his own, and she liked to return his kindnesses in the bedroom.

He pushed himself up and off of her, pulling his pants down with one hand, using the other in a delightful display of his strength to hold himself aloft. He kicked them off a bit creatively, one leg at a time as if he were doing some kind of strange yoga, but never removing his eyes from her as he watched her buck her hips up and slide her own bottoms off.

He tossed them both somewhere to join their pile, and they were left, staring into each other’s eyes wearing nothing but their underwear.

She shivered a bit, both from the intensity if his gaze and the cool air around her. He noticed, his gaze softening as he lowered himself to her a bit and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded by tipping her head up a bit, deepening the kiss as her arms raised up to wrap around his back and pull him down onto her.

“I’ll have to see if I can warm you up,” he said, their temperature differences more evident as his chest pressed into hers.

He was making a valiant effort, despite her pulling him down, to not crush her under his weight. There had been occasions where he’d allowed his whole weight to press down onto her, and while she didn’t exactly consider him light by any instance of the word, he wasn’t ever going to crush her quite so much as he made an excellent weighted blanket when he wanted to be.

His tone was lascivious though. There was no doubt in Anna’s mind as his hips rocked gently into hers that his plan for warming her up included more of the touching he’d just been doing moments before. When he kissed her again and let his lips trail, once more down her body, lower and lower, she knew that there would be nothing so simple as a blanket in his plans to warm her.

When he reached the waistband of her panties he didn’t stop, instead mouthing at her through the fabric, causing her to call his name and tangle her fingers into his hair. She felt his breath on her, hot, the inhalations and exhalations adding to the sensation as his lips nipped carefully at her clit. He slid down after a few moments, pressing kisses to her labia and center through the fabric, nudging her bud with his nose.

He could be devious with his mouth, a fact that she took immense pleasure in. He could kiss her mouth and pussy with equal skill, and she knew it came from a combination of natural talent, and plenty of practice with her and only her. His mouth could bring her to heights she’d never been able to reach alone, and the anticipation of him doing so had her trembling.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, glancing up at her from between her legs, seeking permission as he always did.

“Yes. Always.”

It was all he needed, flashing her a smile as he hooked his thumb under her waistband and pulled.

She lifted her hips obediently and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze on her rear as he tugged the fabric off her. When it got to her knees, he leaned back and she set her bottom back onto her bed, watching him whip the fabric off her legs and onto the floor.

She would not be looking for them, she decided ultimately, until laundry day.

He spread her legs a bit more and rearranged them both on the bed until she had two pillows under her rear, elevating her, and he was half kneeling before her.

Once the matter of fabric and positioning was settled, he set upon her like a man starved. Evidently the foreplay had been enough for him, and she already felt it was enough for her, when he kissed her clit again, and then set to running his tongue over her. He went from the bottom of her slit, tasting her and groaning in appreciation, up to her clit, his tongue teasing at her before flattening against her, moving down, and repeating the process.

Her hands, desperate to show him the same appreciation he was showering her with, reached out as far as they could to rub just her fingertips, less artfully, but no less effectively, against the bulge straining against his boxers. His groans only added to the sensation as he tasted her, the rumbling of it tangible as he licked and took her into his mouth. The sound mingled in the air with her own moans, and soon, she stopped being able to tell who was making which sounds.

His tongue darted between her folds and she rocked her hips into his mouth. He rocked just far enough back that she could no longer touch him, and as such, her hands held onto him in other ways, one hand wandering across his shoulders while the other tugged at his hair.

He added his fingers to the business after a short while, taking only a moment away from her to watch her face as he slipped his fingers along her entrance, coating them in her before he, with trained dexterity, slid them inside her and began the search for the place on her inner walls he knew set her closest to the edge.

He got a satisfied look on his face when her moans grew louder, when she pleaded with him and thanked him for the new sensation, and it was a grin that she saw last before his face descended, again, to mouth at her clit with new fervor.

It was only a matter of time before she fell back against the bed, pillows falling from under her rear as she went stiff, then limp, under the force of her orgasm.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

***

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Anna had been somewhat surprised that they made it to midnight, both of them thoroughly spent with the amount of time and energy they’d put into their private celebration. She wasn’t counting down with the people on the television though, she couldn’t even see them as she knelt before the couch, feeling Kristoff’s tensed legs at either side of her. She couldn’t count anyway, she had her mouth full.

She’d wanted to manage to get him to come right at midnight, thinking about how funny and gratifying it would be to ensure that her fiancé, the man she loved most in the world, started the new year out right. She supposed though, as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue running up and down his length as she breathed through her nose, that he wouldn’t mind if it was just a minute or so late.

“Anna,” he groaned, his hand on the back of her head, not pushing but encouraging her to maintain her speed, “Baby I think I’m going to…”

She hummed, keeping up her speed, flattening her tongue against him and doing her damnedest to give him the same pleasure he’d given her earlier in the day. They’d done plenty in the hours between, but this was the first time for the day, and now for the new year that she’d pleasured him with her mouth.

She hoped that the sounds she was making were encouraging as his hips rocked almost imperceptibly, his hand that rested on her shoulder tightening as the one in her hair pressed a little more than it had been.

When he came for her, she could feel the shuddering of his muscles, particularly his thighs which she was using for support, even under the fabric of his clothes. They’d only recently finally donned clothes again for the first time since dinner, and she had decidedly not let it stop her, particularly when it was easy enough to shift the fabric down enough to suit her needs.

“Anna,” he repeated, panting as she too came up for air, swallowing him.

She could feel herself flush, and saw the blush mirrored on his cheeks. He was frazzled, and when she leaned up, using his thighs for support, to get a better look at his expression, she was surprised by his dipping down to kiss her lips.

“Happy New Year Anna,” he whispered, hands already moving on her, pulling her closer as he showed her his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but laugh, accepting her New Year’s kiss as he sat before her with his pants still askew. If it was an omen for the year, she was glad for it. She’d rather the year be an amusing one than the way the previous one had been.

“Happy 2021 Kristoff,” she replied, kissing him again and letting herself enjoy the sensation of his touch before reaching down to tug on his waistband, helping him readjust before turning to shut the television off and drag him off to bed.

They’d had a long, but very enjoyable day. The perfect way, she thought, to usher in the New Year.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #this is just smut guys idk what to tell you #it's been a year

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gingyboo · 3 years

Text

Mirror Mirror

A/N: Again many thanks to @booglebug

Description- Soulmates existed. People knew that much. Soulmates were rare, a handful in each generation, an unexplainable phenomenon that formed a bond closer than blood and more sacred than marriage.

Bucky finds his soulmate when he needs her most. Little does he know how much she needs him too.

(Soulmate au that slots pretty much in to the MCU but with soulmates. Set after TFATWS.)

Pairing- Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings- Mentions of violence and guns, but its mostly fluff, drama and angst.

This is a multi chaptered fic.

Please like, comment, reblog!

prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3Chapter4Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

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Chapter 9

Shuri led Nancy back to her lab, Nancy looked around in awe at the screens and monitors. She saw one with Bucky’s face on it, lines of data forming around the edge.

“I’m monitoring Bucky, trying to see what caused last nights relapse, but it got me thinking.” She explained leading Nancy to a chair beside her desk. “Soulmates have been around as long as anyone can remember, but no real research has been done, they tend to be quite secretive.” She said inspecting Nancy’s neck with warm fingers. “If your willing I have some theories I’d like to test.”

“What were you thinking?” Nancy asked,

“There’s some form of bio-chemical link between you and Bucky, symbiosis of sorts, I’ve seen your medical records, I know what happened to you following the blip. From what I’ve found those soulmates who were separated, well most of them didn’t make it, and their soulmates never returned.”

“And you want to test how far this link goes?” Nancy said, realising the plan.

“Exactly that.” She grinned opening a small metal box beside her. Inside was a small, round metallic device, it looked similar to the beads around her wrist only flatter. “May I?” She indicated to the back of Nancy’s neck. Nancy swept her loose hair round to her front as Shuri pressed the disk to the nape of her neck. It felt cool and weightless. “There, that’ll measure your brain activity, your vitals and the like. I’ll compare the two of you, see if there’s any consistencies.”

“That’s so cool.” Nancy remarked seeing her own picture appear on the screen next to Bucky’s, her own data starting to appear.

“It you think that’s cool, you haven’t seen anything yet.” She stood up gesturing Nancy to follow. “I was thinking about why you should have survived when the other separated soulmates died. I thought what the difference could be. The serum that runs in Bucky’s veins, it’s never run in yours, but you’re bound to him and you were born decades after he was experimented on. If I’m right about this link then I think you might have some of his capabilities.” Nancy stared at her bewildered.

“I have never had any form super strength.” She protested.

“Maybe not, but recovering, like you did, that was impressive.” Shuri insisted. She led Nancy to the training room.

“What do you need me to do?” Nancy sprung lightly from foot to foot, she’d missed her gym back in London.

“Just a few basic exercises at first, we’ll go from there.”

Shuri started her running on a treadmill built into a panel on the floor. Her heart rate was monitored as well as the impact her feet were having on the ground. She then moved her to some loose weights, measuring the nerve activity in her muscles. She led her over to some targets on the wall, passing her some throwing knives. Her aim wasn’t poor but far from perfect, Shuri kept tapping away on her screen in the corner. By the end of the session Nancy’s bones ached and her head was dizzy with exhaustion. When they returned to the lab Shuri indicated to a bed in the corner.

“Do you think you could rest in here, I’d love to take readings from your sleep state.” Nancy simply nodded, the poor sleep the previous night twinned with the exertions in the training room allowed sleep to come easily.

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“Buck we need you on your A game today,” Sam said coming to sit beside Bucky as Torres flew the jet over Europe. “We’re doing this for her.”

“I know.” Bucky said scratching his head, “I just thought this was over.”

“I know you did. This was just a relapse. Shuri will figure out what’s going on up there,” he indicated to Bucky’s temple, “And we’ll fix it.” Bucky shook his head.

“It’s not that simple he could’ve killed her Sam. I could have killed her” He almost shouted.

“No you couldn’t, don’t you see?” Sam persisted, “She stopped you, she brought you back. No Russian words, no powers, no helicopter to the head. Just her. Now I only know one other person who could do that.”

“Steve.” Bucky sighed.

“Exactly.”

“But I hurt her, how could she ever forgive me. Who wants to be with someone capable of that?”

“She’s your soulmate, you’re not capable of hurting her and she’s not capable of hating you.” Although Sam’s words were encouraging, Bucky still felt the guilt pulsing through his veins. Every time he closed his eyes her face appeared behind his lids, contorted in pain, pleading with him. He tried to focus on mission at hand, finding the dark-haired man, getting to the bottom of his pursuit of Nancy. He just had to focus. He dove into his pocket pulling out the compact mirror Nancy had given him the night before. Before it had all gone so wrong. He opened it seeing only himself staring back. He imagined her there smiling back at him. He snapped it shut again pulling out his phone to send her a text.

‘I miss you.’ He started, staring at his phone not knowing what else to say. He sent the text closing his phone and heading into the cockpit to see the sky opening up in front of them.

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“Miss Cartwright,” Shuri gently shook her awake. “There’s something I’d like you to see.” Nancy stretched out on the bed.

“Please, it’s Nancy, Just Nancy.” She protested, dragging her aching limbs out of the bed.

“Alright Nancy, look at this.” She enlarged a stream of data on the screen. “This shows your brain activity whilst sleeping, your subconscious.”

“Okay.” Nancy said following the rise and fall of the red line.

“Okay, so this is Bucky’s subconscious.” She dragged his data across to overlap Nancy’s. “Do you see the spikes here?” Nancy nodded, “it echoes the spikes in yours.”

“No, that’s not possible.” Nancy starred at the overlapping lines in amazement.

“You see the Winter Solider, he is part of Bucky’s subconscious,” Shuri explained.

“So you mean…” realisation dawned in her eyes.

“I think it’s possible something in your subconscious woke him up. And in waking him he reverted to what he knows.” Shuri continued.

“Killing.” Nancy sobbed.

“But you also managed to stop him. The winter solider stood down for you.”

“He did.” Nancy sniffed, she’d stopped him, she’d brought Bucky back.

“He did, and I think I might be able to figure out what it was that woke him to begin with, but I’ll need to do some more tests with you first. Are you up for it?” Shuri asked, excitement ablaze in her eyes.

“Could it help him, stop it from happening again, he’ll be tearing himself apart over this.”

“I think it might.”

“Then yes, whatever it takes.” Nancy said with all the conviction she possessed. “But I wonder if you could do me a favour?”

“Of course,” the Princess agreed.

“I’d like to look into the circumstances of my brother’s death, would you help me?”

“Sure.” She said smiling sympathetically. Nancy always hated other people’s pity, but she had gotten used to it. She closed her eyes.

“We can’t tell anyone what we’re doing though, please, not my father, not even Bucky, not till I know what I could be looking at.” Nancy bit her lip nervously, she hoped she was right in trusting Shuri, she knew she couldn’t find what she needed alone.

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Christopher Cartwright had been at the top of his game, fresh out of Eton, good grades, a loving family, when he’d decided to enrol at Sandhurst. He felt with everything going on in the world he had a duty to his country to serve. So, serve he did, throwing himself into military training with enthusiasm. He’d never seen his mother look as proud as the day he passed out, an officer of the Royal Navy. That night he’d partied like it was the last night on earth. After that he was fully committed, swearing his life to the military, dumping his then boyfriend, throwing away any previous ideas of joining politics like his father, rejecting his sisters calls. He was a solider now, his duty had to come first. Two tours and 5 medals later he was recruited by a specialist training facility. It was on one of these training missions that tragedy struck, and he perished at sea along with his whole unit. All further information was classified, an empty casket had been buried, no body could be recovered.

Nancy had been 18 at the time. It had destroyed her parent’s marriage, caused her father to flee the country, her mother to move county and Nancy to be left alone. Nancy remembered the funeral well, the black coffin draped in the union flag, Kit’s military portrait standing at the front, the rose arrangements reading ‘Brother’ and ’Son’. People she hadn’t known had stood up sharing stories she’d never heard. They’d shaken her father’s hand and patted her on the shoulder. The whole day had seemed surreal, like it was for someone else’s brother.

The months following were filled with crippling grief. Then university provided a helpful distraction and Nancy managed to throw herself into her degree. In all that time she’d never really dealt with what his death meant for her, her heart never could accept that her big brother, who had always been there, was gone. He was the one who’d chase her around the garden with a water pistol and the hottest day of the year. He had snuck into her room during the thunderstorms to hold her hand because he knew how much they’d scared her. They’d grown together and played together. He’d pulled funny faces behind their mother’s back when she was being told off. She’d snuck into their father’s study to steal back Kit’s Gameboy when it was confiscated for pulling faces behind their mother’s back. She remembered terrorising Acedown Court’s garden with screams and cheers playing pirates with the neighbour’s children. Falling asleep in the back of the car on the way back from holiday after eating too many travel sweets. They had been a double act. Until he’d joined the Navy.

Then a few weeks ago the first glimpse of hope, a hope she didn’t dare speak out loud, not even to Bucky. The man in with dark hair, he could be lying, he most likely was, but there was a chance. Kit might just be alive. She’d be damned if she didn’t find him.

#bucky barnes #winter solider #sam wilson #captain america #mcu #mcu fic #soulmate

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

15. Meg Complicates Things

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x21; Salvation

Word Count: 7,605

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, demons, John Winchester

Author’s Note: Hope you enjoy! Please reblog and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

Julia,

When you were born, I remember taking one look at you and knowing that our family was complete. You weren't an expected child but you weren't an unwelcome one, either. Your mother and I knew that you would be a blessing, just like each of your siblings. And we were right. Our lives would not have been the same without you.

You're special, kiddo.

You were young when your mom got her diagnosis but you still knew that something was wrong. You were scared but you still put a smile on your face for Naomi whenever you saw her. You were strong for her. You've always been so strong and I always thought that you got that from me but I know it's not. You got that from Naomi. All of you kids got her strength. You and your siblings have been there for each other through thick and thin, even when I wasn't there. Never let that go, Julia. You will always need your family.

I'm sorry that I left but I have something important to do. John knows that and he's accepted that I have done all I can to help him with the demon. This important task is big—bigger than just me—so I don't know if I will see you again for a while. It could be months but it could also be years.

I just want you to know that I'm proud of you, Jujube. I always have been and I always will be. I know your mother would be very happy to see the woman you have become. I know I am.

I love you, kiddo.

Lucas Alexander

Julia wiped the tears from her eyes and set the letter down on her lap. Her dad was gone again and she didn't know whether to be sad or angry. The sad part of her was winning, though. Luke was saying goodbye in the letter and even though he had never been good with words, she felt the love he had for her and her family. Even with that love, though, she didn't want to say goodbye. She had just lost Levi, she didn't want to lose her dad, too.

When she had woken up that morning, John was the first person she saw. He had pulled her aside to break the news that Luke had left for an important hunt and apologized before giving her the letter Luke wrote for her. At first, she was in shock but now she was confused.

What could her dad possibly be doing? What was oh-so important task that needed to be done? Why would it take so long?

Julia didn't just feel sad for herself, either. At least she got to see him. Abby and Beth hadn't and that was going to destroy them. Abby was the closest to their father but Beth had always been a daddy's girl, too. Julia only hoped that Luke sent them letters or called them to tell them what was going on. Otherwise, the three of them were pretty much left in the dark.

Julia grabbed her phone from the nightstand and opened it, sending Beth a text message.

Jules: Did Dad send you a letter?

It didn't take long for her oldest sister to reply.

Beth: Yeah. He sent one to Abs, too. Call me when you have the time

Julia sent a confirmation back and sighed in relief, glad that Luke had made contact with her sisters, too.

"So, this is it," John told Sam and Dean as the two of them looked over the various research that he had gathered on the demon that killed Mary and Jess; Julia snapped her phone shut and slid off the bed she was sharing with Sam, heading over to the table where the Winchester boys were huddled. "This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just nothing...Until about a year ago. For the first time, Luke picked up a trail and called me."

"And that's when you took off," Dean finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

John nodded. "Yeah, that's right," he confirmed. "The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

"What's the trail?" Julia asked, her eyes shifting from the information on the wall to John.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California," John explained. "Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah," John nodded. "The night of the kid's six-month birthday."

Sam stiffened, looking at his father in shock. "I was six months old that night?"

"Exactly six months."

"So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me?" when John avoided his eyes, Sam scoffed. "So, Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?"

"We don't know that, Sam," Dean stated.

"Oh, really?" Sam huffed. "Because I'd say we're pretty damn sure."

Dean gave him a frustrated look. "For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault."

"Right," Sam raised his voice. "It's not my fault but it's my problem!"

"No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!"

Julia sighed and walked over so she stood between the brothers, gently grabbing their arms. "That's enough," she said calmly. "Come on, settle down."

And, like magic, Sam and Dean took deep breaths and calmed down. Julia looked at them in surprise as they turned to John to focus back on the demon. Either they weren't really upset or she had forcefully calmed them down and she had no idea how she did it.

"So, why is he doing it?" Sam asked John. "What does he want?"

John's curious gaze went from Julia to Sam. "Look, I wish I had more answers, I do. Luke and I were always one step behind it," he sighed sadly. "We never got there in time to save..."

Everyone shifted uncomfortably as he trailed off, knowing exactly what he wasn't saying.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Dean spoke up, looking to John for answers.

"There's signs," John told him. "It took us a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires. Signs crop up in the area; cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms..."

"Demonic omens," Julia muttered thoughtfully, wrinkling her nose.

John nodded at her. "And then I went back and checked and..."

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean realized.

"A week before your mother died," John confirmed before looking at Sam sadly. "And in Palo Alto, before Jessica."

Julia pursed her lips together, her eyes stinging, and grabbed Sam's hand. She squeezed it tightly, knowing that if she was having trouble, he was two times worse. He bowed his head, holding onto her tightly and drawing comfort from her.

"And these signs, they're starting again."

Sam looked up. "Where?"

"Salvation, Iowa."

It was a ten-hour drive from Manning, Colorado to Salvation, a little town an hour outside of Des Moines, Iowa. Sam and Dean took turns driving through boring Nebraska, taking their time off to sleep, while Julia switched between taking naps, reading, or talking to whoever was driving so they wouldn't fall asleep.

She was able to talk to Beth and Abby, both of whom were equally upset about the letters that they received from Luke. Julia was even informed that Taylor, Lizzie, and Maggie got their own letters, which somehow made Luke leaving all the more official. Beth was really torn up about her letter and Julia could tell that Abby was, too, but she wasn't one to share her emotional distress. Abigail Petersen was the closest you could get to a female Dean; always staying strong for others in their time of need while hurting on the inside.

After a long drive, they had just entered Salvation's town limits when John pulled his truck over to the side of the road. Dean followed his lead and all three of them got out of the car to see what was going on.

"God damn it!" John angrily slammed his hand against the bed of his truck. "Son of a bitch!"

Dean gave his dad a concerned look. "What is it?"

"I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine," John confirmed for Dean. "Jim Murphy's dead."

Julia exhaled sharply at the news. "Pastor Jim?" her voice wavered. "How?"

Pastor Jim had been an uncle-figure to her and her siblings just like John was. He was a faithful man like her family and had trained in the hunting life with her dad, though he was a couple years older. Before he retired and went to preaching full time, the Petersen family used to see him every year around summertime.

He was also important to the Winchesters for the same reason. Sam and Dean had spent more time combined with Pastor Jim and Bobby Singer than their dad growing up. Sam had always told her that he liked staying at Pastor Jim's house because he'd make good spaghetti.

"His throat was slashed. He bled out," John sighed. "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," Sam stated flatly. "The demon?"

"I don't know," John shook his head. "Could be he just got careless and he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do you wanna do?"

"Now we act like every second counts," John declared. "There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up and cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad, that could be dozens of kids," Sam pointed out. "How do we know which one is the right one?"

"We check them all, that's how," John said sternly. "You got any better ideas?"

Sam quickly shook his head. "No, sir."

John nodded and silently dismissed them; Julia paused as she turned back to the Impala, sensing his energy. He was angry and upset, a little guilty. Even if the man acted like a cold drill sergeant most of the time, it didn't mean that he didn't have feelings like everyone else.

"Uncle John, are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

Dean and Sam looked back at Julia before their eyes slid over to their father as they waited for him to answer her.

"Yeah," John's tone was exhausted; it was clear that he just wanted this all to be over with. "It's Jim, you know? I can't..." he paused for a second, his determination strengthening. "This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

They split up just like John said they would. John went to the women and children's hospital while Dean went to Salvation Memorial, and Julia and Sam went to the medical center.

Julia and Sam acted as police officers, asking the receptionist on the pediatric floor for all the records of the babies that would have turned six months old that day. It took a while for them to gather all the information but, in the end, there were only ten records they had to jot down.

It was when they were leaving the medical center that they had trouble. Julia was in the middle of reciting some of the records for Sam when he stopped in his tracks. He winced painfully and held the bridge of his nose, like he usually did when he was having one of his visions.

"Sam, are you all right?" Julia anxiously asked him, stashing the notebook under her arm so she could steady him. "Sam?"

"Yeah...yeah, I'm just..." he paused, grunting as another wave hit him. His energy was twisting just like the last time he had a vision and it worried her. "I'm getting something..."

He winced, unable to speak again while the rest of his vision passed. Julia just made sure that she was staying calm and steadied him, making soothing noises as he continued to see whatever was coming to him.

"A train," he whispered once his vision was finished.

"A train?" Julia stood on her tiptoes to put the back of her hand against his forehead to check for a fever; he felt normal. "Tell me what you saw, S."

"I saw and woman and her baby," Sam breathed, pulling his backpack around his body so he could pull a map of Salvation out of one of the pockets. "I kept hearing a train and the—the demon was there."

"Okay," Julia nodded, pulling the notebook out from underneath her arm. "Give me a location of the train. Maybe something will match."

Sam nodded and pointed at the map, his finger trailing the marked train tracks. "All right, there's a Violet Avenue."

Julia went through the list of names they wrote down, wrinkling her nose in concentration. "There's one on here," she told him. "Rosie Holden, born to Monica and Charlie Holden."

"Let's go."

The Holden household was only two blocks from the medical center. They had to cross through a park that was strangely full of kids for a rainy day but the neighborhood the new parents lived in was nice. If this had been another life, Julia could see herself living on a street like this.

Luckily, just as they crossed onto Violet Avenue, Sam pointed out a woman only a few years older than them, pushing a baby stroller on the sidewalk and holding an umbrella over her head. He whispered to Julia that it was the woman he saw in his vision.

"Hi," Sam greeted the woman when they approached her just as she was attempting to close her umbrella and keep a hold of her baby's stroller. "Here, let me hold that for you. You look like you don't need that anymore."

"Oh," the woman smiled kindly as Sam made sure the stroller kept still. "Thanks."

Julia grinned and looked under the hood of the stroller, taking a peek at the baby. She was the cutest little girl—but most babies were cute, it was just science—with long eyelashes and big brown eyes. "Wow, she's beautiful," she complimented the woman. "Look at those eyelashes. Is she yours?"

"Yeah," the woman nodded proudly.

"Oh, wow, hi," Sam cooed to the baby. "Sorry, we're being rude. I'm Sam and this is Julia. We just moved in up the block."

"Oh, hey, I'm Monica," Monica perked up in realization and introduced herself before looking down at her baby. "This is Rosie."

"Rosie," Sam confirmed while Julia smiled, glad that they found the woman that Sam had a vision of. "Hi, Rosie."

The baby just stared at him, quietly picked at the blanket that covered her.

"So, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you," Julia silently awed as Rosie blinked up at her and Sam. "She such a good baby."

"I know," Monica nodded. "I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear, it's—it's like she's reading your mind."

That made Julia pause but her smile didn't falter. If the demon was coming for Rosie and Monica tonight, just like it did for Sam and Mary, did that mean Rosie was like Sam? Did she have mental abilities like him already? Or was that why the demon was coming in the first place?

"What about you, Monica?" Sam wondered politely. "Have you lived here long?"

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born," Monica informed them, pointing to the house they had all stopped in front of.

"And how old is Rosie?"

They already knew how old the baby was from her records but they needed to make sure that they were the family the demon was coming after.

"She's six months today," Monica looked down at the stroller fondly. "She's big, right? Growing like a weed."

"Yeah," Sam laughed sadly, looking down at Rosie; Julia grabbed his free hand, squeezing it tightly. "Monica..."

"Yeah?"

"Just, uh, just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, you too," Monica smiled gratefully. "We'll see you both around."

Julia nodded and waved as she started walking again, up her driveway where an SUV had just pulled in. A man Monica's age got out of the vehicle and greeted his girls with fond kisses that brought a sad smile to Julia's face. They had to make sure the demon didn't ruin this family. They just had to.

"A vision," John's voice was flat as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

After speaking with Monica, Rosie's mother, Julia called Dean while Sam freaked out. He and John were already done with their recon missions and had rented a motel room for their use. She had explained to the oldest Winchester brother what had happened to Sam. Sam had then pried the phone from her hand to tell Dean that they needed to tell John what exactly was going on.

Telling John about Sam's visions didn't exactly go well.

"Yes," Sam answered, pressing his fingers against his pounding head. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because...?"

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them."

"It started out as nightmares," Dean stepped in, moving from his spot on the bed next to John and making his way over to the table where Julia and Sam were seated. "Then it started happening while he was awake."

"Yeah," Sam breathed, agreeing with his brother. "It's like—I dunno—it's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon, the stronger the visions get."

John bristled and set his annoyed gaze on his sons. "All right, when were you going to tell me about this?"

"We didn't know what it meant," Dean offered tensely.

"Something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me," John glared at him.

Julia shook her head in disapproval; there had been zero times that John had picked up the phone, despite each of them calling many, many times over the last nine months. He had practically abandoned his sons and now he was getting onto Dean for not getting a hold of him? It was his fault that Dean—or Sam, for that matter—didn't inform him about what was going on.

Dean scoffed. "Call you? Are you kidding me?" he asked in disbelief. "Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? I called you when Julia was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the fucking lottery."

Julia was surprised by Dean's words but proud, nevertheless. Dean had always followed orders and never argued with his dad; he had always taken John's crap without protest. It was nice to see him breaking out of his daddy's-little-soldier persona and coming into his own person.

Not to mention that she had a thing for angry Dean. He was gorgeous, what could she say?

John was silent for a few seconds before he answered. "You're right," he admitted; Dean relaxed, having tensed when he realized what he had told his father. "Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours—"

Of course, Julia mentally scoffed.

"—you're right. I'm sorry."

"Look guys, visions or no visions, the fact is that we know the demon is coming tonight," Sam spoke up. "And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through."

"No, they're not," John declared firmly. "No one is, ever again."

Sam's phone rang at that moment; he flipped it open and looked at the caller ID—which declared it was an unknown number—and answered the call, putting it on speakerphone.

"Hello?"

"Sam?" a woman spoke.

"Who is this?"

"Think real hard, it will come to you."

Sam's face hardened. "Meg."

Julia stiffened at the mention of the woman who had killed her brother. She had heard from Dean that she fell out of the building when Sam trashed the altar she was using to control the Daeva. If she was still alive—because Julia doubted that she'd just survive a seven-story drop like that—it meant that Meg was probably possessing the poor girl's dead body.

Dean took the place behind Julia, putting his large hands on her shoulders comfortingly. Absentmindedly, forgetting that John nor Sam knew about them, she reached up and held the hand on her left shoulder.

"Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window," Sam said, his voice low and tense.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," Meg said sourly. "That really hurt my feelings, by the way."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop."

"Let me speak to your dad."

Sam nervously looked over at John, who was slowly making his way over to the table where the rest of them were gathered. "My dad?" he faked confusion. "I don't know where my dad is."

Meg clicked her tongue. "It's time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him now."

John held out his hand to Sam and the youngest Winchester reluctantly handed the phone over.

"This is John."

"Howdy, John," Meg chirped. "I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys. I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood."

Julia inhaled sharply, squeezing Dean's hand at the mention of Pastor Jim. Dean returned the gesture and rubbed her palm with his thumb.

"Still there, John-boy?"

"I'm here," John confirmed shakily.

"Well, that was yesterday," Meg boasted. "Today, I'm in Lincoln, Ohio, visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi."

A man spoke now, his voice shaky and frantic. "John, whatever you do, don't give—"

Meg shushed him, cutting him off.

"Caleb?" John stiffened; Julia and Sam exchanged concerned looks while Dean tightened his grip on her. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."

"We know you have the Colt, John."

John paused for a second. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, okay," Meg scoffed. "Well, listen to this—"

They could all hear the quick slash of a knife and then there was choked gasping. They assumed the worst; Meg had just slashed Caleb's throat and there was nothing they could do to save him.

"Caleb?" John called, paling considerably, his eyes sparkling with tears.

"You hear that?" Meg taunted him. "That's the sound of your friend dying...Now, let's try this again. We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war—and this is what war looks like. It has causalities."

John angrily clenched his jaw. "I'm gonna kill you, you know that?"

"Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure," Meg scolded him mockingly. "So, this is the thing. We're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you've ever loved? They'll all die unless you give us that gun. Next on the list is Luke Alexander, so I'd think hard."

Julia gasped softly at the mention of her father. She had no idea where he was and now demons were going to be on his ass unless John gave them the Colt. While Dean clenched her hand tightly, John gave her an assuring look. She relaxed as much as she could; John wouldn't let her dad get killed.

"I'm waiting, Johnny. You better answer before the buzzer."

"Okay," John agreed quietly.

"Sorry? I didn't quite get that."

"I said okay," his voice hardened, a murderous glint in his brown eyes. "I'll bring you the Colt."

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln on the corner of Wabash and Lake," Meg informed him. "You're gonna meet me there."

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there."

"Meet me there at midnight tonight."

"That's impossible," John scoffed. "I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on a plane."

"Oh," Meg clicked her tongue. "Well, I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide to make it, come alone."

She ended the call, then. John flipped the phone shut and tossed it back to Sam. Julia sighed and let of Dean's hand, though he still hovered behind her worriedly.

"I'm just gonna say it," she spoke up, her eyes nervously flickering over John. "I think Meg's a demon."

"Really?" Sam gave her a surprised look.

John agreed with her. "Either that or she's possessed by one—"

Julia mentally disagreed. Every demon had to possess a body. Otherwise they wouldn't be anything other than a cloud of black smoke. She certainly wasn't going to correct John, though; she was way smarter than that.

"—it doesn't really matter."

"So, what do we do?" Dean wondered.

A determined expression fell over John's face. "I'm going to Lincoln."

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Julia spoke in unison.

"It doesn't look like we have a choice," John stated firmly. "If I don't go, a lot of people die. Luke will die and so many of our other friends."

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family," Sam reminded him, a conflicted look on his face. "That gun is all we have. You can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over?" Dean, Julia, and Sam gave John confused looks. "Look, besides us, Luke, and a couple of vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"An antique store," John corrected him.

"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?"

"Look," John sighed. "as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"But for how long?" Julia spoke up. "What happens when she does figure it out?"

"I just—" John paused before continuing. "I just need to buy a few hours, that's all."

Sam gave him a knowing look. "You mean for us," he stated. "You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No, Sam, I want to stop losing the people we love," John declared. "I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want...I want Mary alive. It's just—I just want this to be over."

Julia tightened her grip on her rosary, blessing the jug of water for John. He had confessed that Luke was usually the one that made holy water, so she had volunteered to bless the water for his trip to Lincoln. She had also written the blessing down for him, so he could make more for himself if he needed it.

Sam and John stood in front of the mechanical weapon stash, making sure everything was prepped and waiting to go. They were talking about something but it was too quiet and she was too concentrated to eavesdrop on their conversation. The three of them were waiting for Dean to come back from an antique store from the next town over with a gun that resembled the Colt.

She finished blessing the water, finishing her prayer, and brought the jug back over to John. He gave her a thankful smile and wordlessly put it in the stash after filling up his flask.

"Sam, do you mind if I speak to Julia alone?"

Shit, Julia panicked to herself, did I do something wrong?

Sam simply nodded; John led Julia around a hundred feet away from his youngest son so he couldn't overhear what they were going to talk about.

"Did I do something wrong?" she blurted out nervously.

John had always made her nervous. She didn't know why, though; he had never been rude to her or did anything to hurt her. In fact, he was nicer to her than he was his sons, but she chalked that up to the fact that she wasn't a Winchester and he didn't have to father her like he did Sam and Dean.

"No, of course not," John shook his head. "I just wanted to tell you that you can back out of this, if you want to. This isn't your fight."

Julia's mind raced. She wasn't going to walk away from Sam and Dean; they were her best friend and lover, respectively, and she loved them to death. They had been part of her family since before she was even born. You can't walk away from family and she wanted to help the Winchester finish what that demon started twenty-two years before when it killed Mary.

And, this was a little selfish, but she wanted Meg to die, too. She could hardly stomach the fact that Meg was still around but Levi wasn't. Abby and Beth weren't there so they couldn't do anything about it, but Julia was. She owed it to herself, her family, and—most importantly—Levi to make sure that Meg was sent straight back to Hell.

"I'm not walking away," she told John firmly. "You guys are my family, too, and Meg killed my brother. This isn't something that I can just ignore while leaving you guys in danger. If I can help, then I will. I'm not leaving."

John sighed and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "You're a good person, Julia," he smiled softly; Julia turned away, embarrassed. "And you're good for my boys. Especially Dean..."

Julia quickly looked back at him, shocked. "How do you—how do you...?"

"How do I know that you and Dean are together?" John supplied when she trailed off. "It's hard to miss it. You two are like magnets or something. Either way, it's good. You guys have always been close. Do you love him?"

"I don't—I don't know," Julia stammered, flushing. "I'm certainly heading that way, though."

"Be patient with him," he advised.

"I will," she promised him and then joked, "This is one of the things I can be patient about."

John shook his head with a small grin. "Just make sure to look after my boys, all right?"

"Of course."

"Let's get back over to Sam. I'm sure Dean will be back any minute now."

John was right; only a minute after they rejoined Sam, Dean showed up. He parked the Impala only a few feet away from the truck and got out, carrying a wrinkled paper bag that was conformed into an outline of a gun.

"Did you get it?" John asked him.

Dean gave him the bag without a word; John pulled the gun out. It was nearly identical to the Colt but it was easy to tell the difference since they knew what the actual Colt looked like.

"You know this is a trap, don't you?" Dean told him. "That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her," John assured him. "I got a whole arsenal loaded; holy water, Mandaic, amulets—"

"Dad."

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"What's that?" John blinked at him.

"If this thing goes South, just...get the hell out," Dean shoved his hands into his jacket, voice shaking slightly. "Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."

Julia grabbed Sam's hand and they both squeezed each other tightly. If things went wrong, and Meg found out that the gun wasn't the Colt, this might be the last time they see John. It was nerve-wracking and John wasn't even her dad; she couldn't imagine how Sam and Dean felt.

"Same goes for you," John turned so he could see Sam, Dean, and Julia all at once and pulled the Colt from his jacket. "All right, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir," Julia and Sam spoke in unison while Dean nodded.

"I've been waiting a long time for this fight," John sighed. "Now it's here and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you three now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?"

Sam, Dean, and Julia all nodded at once; John handed the Colt over to Dean, who took it without a word.

"We'll see you soon, Dad," Sam promised his father, trying to stay optimistic.

"Be careful," Julia added, glancing at Dean worriedly. He hadn't spoken much since he got back and she could tell that he was having a hard time with what was going on. He had already lost his mother to this demon and now he may lose his father, too.

John nodded at them. "I'll see you later."

He clapped Sam on the shoulder and gave Dean a serious but fond look before closing the back of his truck and getting in. The truck rumbled as he drove away, mud squelching each time the tires rotated.

Julia sighed sadly and reaching over with her free hand, taking Dean's. She held onto her boys as the truck disappeared down the road, leaving them to finish the fight by themselves.

It was past nine o'clock and they were still watching Monica Holden's house, waiting for the demon to show up. Throughout the three hours they had been parked on the other side of the street, they tossed around ideas that could work in getting the young family out of their house. So far, they had come up with nothing.

Halfway through their stakeout, Julia was antsy and—admittedly—a little bored. Ignoring Dean's protests, she had climbed into the front seat and settled herself in the middle of Sam and Dean. It wasn't anymore exciting in the front but this way, she was able to carry on conversation better than when she had to lean forward to get a hint of what the brothers spoke about.

"Maybe we could tell them that there's a gas leak," Sam suggested after a silent five minutes. "It might get them out of the house for a few hours."

Dean scoffed and looked over Julia's head at him. "Yeah and how many times has that actually worked for us?"

"And we already spoke to Monica outside of her house," Julia added. "It'll be suspicious if we randomly show up at night to tell her to get out of her house."

"Yeah, you're right," he gave in and paused for a few seconds. "We could always tell them the truth."

Julia turned to Sam this time, an eyebrow raised; it amused Sam to see Dean pulling the same face at him.

"Nah," the three of them chorused.

"I know, I know," Sam sighed. "I just—with what's coming for these folks..."

"Sam, we only got one move and you know it, all right?" Dean stated. "We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get to it before it gets them."

Sam nodded in agreement and looked back at the Holden's house.

"I wonder how Dad's doing."

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up," Dean muttered.

"I'd feel a lot better if he was here, backing us up."

The three of them continued watching the house for another half-hour when Sam spoke up again. "This is weird."

Julia gave him a curious look. "What?"

"After all these years, we're finally here," Sam told her and Dean. "It doesn't seem real."

"We just gotta keep our heads and do our job like always," Dean advised his little brother.

"Yeah, but this isn't like always."

Dean cocked his head and agreed. "True."

"...Dean, Julia," Sam said hesitantly. "Uh, I just wanna thank you guys."

Julia's eyes darted back to her best friend. "For what?"

"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you guys. And, uh, I don't know...I just wanted to let you know. Just in case."

Julia's eyes stung and she bowed her head. She was grateful for what Sam said but they weren't needed. She didn't love Sam because it felt like she owed him or that she had to be by his side all these years. She loved Sam because he was her brother and best friend rolled into one. She looked after him for the same reason as Dean—even though she was two-and-a-half years younger than him.

And she didn't like the way he was talking. It was like he didn't expect to make it out of the fight and was already saying his goodbyes.

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean objected, looking at his brother in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"Don't say just in case something happens to you," Dean shook his head firmly, irritated. "I don't wanna hear that fucking speech, man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon—that evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?"

Sam reluctantly nodded; satisfied, Dean turned to Julia.

"Julia?"

"I know, Dean," she whispered, wiping her wet eyes.

An hour later, Dean started calling John. He called three times, each time getting John's voicemail.

Frustrated, Dean harshly closed his phone. "Dad's not answering."

"Meg might be late," Julia offered, trying to stay positive. "Maybe he doesn't have cell reception."

"Yeah, well—"

Out of nowhere, cutting Dean off, the radio started making noise. It was staticky, like they weren't tuned into the nearest radio tower. Julia reached in front of her, turning the knob so the volume was higher.

Around them, the wind started blowing harder, jostling some of the thinner trees. The lights in the Holden's house flickered on and off. The staticky radio, the wind, the flickering lights...they were all omens.

"It's coming," Sam breathed in realization.

The scrambled out of the Impala at once, drawing their guns—and in Sam's case, the Colt—and entering the house after Julia picked the lock. It was quiet on the first level but suddenly, there was chaos.

A man—Julia assumed it was Charlie Holden—popped up out of nowhere and swung a bat at Dean. Dean quickly ducked, missing the blow, but a lamp was trashed in the process.

"Get out of my house!" Charlie roared at them; Dean quickly grabbed the man and pressed him against the wall, hardly effected by his struggles.

"Please, Mr. Holden, please," Julia pleaded. "Please be quiet."

Charlie continued to struggle but Dean locked him up. "Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen," Dean said sharply. "We're trying to help you."

"Charlie, is everything okay down there?" they heard Monica call from upstairs.

"Monica, get the baby!".

"No, don't go into the nursery!" Sam shouted at the same time as Charlie called, "You stay away from her!"

He was struggling against Dean's grip again but the oldest Winchester had no more patience. He backhanded Charlie so hard that he fell unconscious, slumping to the ground. Dean quickly picked him up, heaving him over his shoulder.

"You guys go," he told Julia and Sam. "Get Monica and Rosie."

Julia and Sam took off, up the stairs. It was easy to find Rosie's nursery, considering that Monica was crying and screaming desperately for help. When they entered the room, she was pinned against the top half of the wall by the door and there was a dark figure with yellow eyes standing next to Rosie's crib.

"ROSIE!"

Sam quickly held up the Colt and aimed it at the demon. He pulled the trigger but it disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Monica fell to the floor now that the demon was gone.

"Where the hell did it go?" Sam asked frantically.

Monica didn't care; all she could focus on was Rosie.

"My baby!" she exclaimed, lunging forward; Sam quickly caught her, helping her stand up. "My baby!"

"Get her out of here," Julia told Sam, hurrying over to Rosie's crib. "I got her."

"Rosie!"

Sam tried to pull Monica out of the room but she was fighting him. "My baby!"

"Julia's got her."

Julia quickly picked up Rosie, including her warm blanket, and flinched away as the crib shot up in flames. Making sure that she held Rosie properly, she raced out of the nursery and down the stairs, following Sam and Monica out of the house.

"You get away from my family!" Charlie shouted at Julia and Sam as he was held back by Dean.

"No, Charlie, don't. They saved us," Monica cried, turning to take Rosie out of Julia's arms; she wordlessly passed the baby, giving Monica a sad smile. "They saved us."

Dean let go of Charlie and he immediately went to Monica and Rosie, wrapping his arms around them.

"Thank you," Monica looked at Julia, Sam, and Dean gratefully.

Julia nodded and smiled softly. She was so glad that the Holdens were safe from whatever the demon had wanted to do to them. It was nice to see the love that the three of them shared. She envied that.

"It's still in there!" Sam shouted, his gaze locked on the nursery window where the same figure they had seen earlier was standing.

Dean immediately grabbed Sam before he could run back into the house; Julia joined him in holding the youngest Winchester, who was fighting hysterically.

"Sam, Sam, no," Dean grunted.

"Let me go! It's still in there!"

"No!" Dean raised his voice. "It's burning to the ground. It's suicide."

"I don't care!"

"Well, we do," Julia helped Dean continue to pull Sam away from the house.

The three of them looked back at the nursery window; the demon was gone.

Dean paced back and forth in their motel room, his phone up to his ear as he tried calling John again. He had already tried four times and his dad had yet to answer. "Come on, Dad. Answer your phone, dammit," there was still no answer; Dean shut his phone and tossed it on his bed before turning to Sam and Julia, who were sitting side-by-side. "Something's wrong."

Julia nodded in agreement while Sam stared blankly at the wall behind the television.

"You hear me?" Dean asked his brother, frustrated. "Something's happened."

Sam didn't react the way that Dean wanted him to. "If you guys had just let me go in there, I could have ended all of this."

Julia sighed in frustration, tired of his pity party. She and Dean saved his life; he was willing to kill himself because of his rage but he didn't even care. "Sam, you would have died," she said firmly. "All you would have ended was your life."

"You don't know that," Sam protested feebly.

Dean walked over to their bed, standing in front of Sam with his arms crossed over his chest. "So, what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?"

Sam abruptly stood up, towering over Dean. Julie got to her feet, too, ready to intervene if things got more heated between the bothers.

"Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"Well, that's not going to happen," Dean raised his voice. "Not as long as me and Julia are around."

"What the fuck are you talking about, Dean?" Sam matched his volume. "We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay?" Dean tried to placate him. "But it's not worth dying over."

Sam reared back like he had been struck. "What?"

"I mean it," Dean insisted while Julia nervously shifted from foot to foot. "If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess," Sam reminded him lowly. "That thing killed Mom."

"You said it yourself once," Dean stated. "That no matter what we do, they're gone and they're never coming back."

Sam clenched his jaw and grabbed Dean's shoulders, roughly pushing him against the wall. "Don't you say that, not you!" his eyes glistened with tears. "Not after all this. Don't you say that."

"Sam!" Julia rushed toward the brothers, tightly grabbing Sam's arm to pull him away from Dean. "Get off of him!"

Surprisingly—because Sam was much stronger than her—she managed to pull Sam away from Dean. It must have been because he was more sad than angry and he truly didn't want to hurt his brother.

Once Sam released him, Dean said softly, "Sam, look," he gave Sam a pleading look. "The four of us, that's all we have. It's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man. Without you and Jules or Dad..."

He trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. Sam exhaled shakily and walked back to the bed he shared with Julia while Julia gave Dean a small smile and reached for his hand.

"Dad," Sam said quietly, tears still in his eyes. "He should have called by now."

"You should try him again," Julia suggested.

Dean nodded and grabbed his cellphone, calling his dad once again. Dean looked surprised when John took his call, but it wasn't the eldest Winchester who was answering.

"You three really screwed up this time," Julia, Sam, and Dean heard Meg's angry voice.

While Julia and Sam stiffened, Dean angrily clenched his jaw. "Where is he?"

When Meg spoke again, they could practically hear her devious smirk. "You're never going to see your father again."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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blissfulalchemist · 4 years

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@nightwingshero and @risenlucifer You two were on the same wavelength today and so I’m just doing the one prompt cause it would have been the same either way. Also note that I did separate the line a little because it fit better. Please enjoy. Love you!

I’m tapping my foot impatiently waiting for my ride to get here. I was slated to be “arrested” and it was the only reason mom and dad weren’t called right away. Not that there was much they could have done about it anyway. The old secretary shot me a judging glare over the monitor. I flash her a smug smile, she rolls her eyes going back to whatever mundane task she had been assigned. I catch the reflection of the cop car in a glass vase on the desk, finally. I won’t be in the cell more than a night when one of my uncles or aunt gets me out. They can’t fault me for what I did.

The man that steps out of the car is tall and looks exhausted, but recognizable, I’ll never have to see a cell….unless he was a gonna be snitch and his face showed that he didn’t entirely approve of my actions. He gives a heavy sigh as his eyes land on me in my overalls and dragon printed button up, the white go go boots scuffed, drops of red paint splattered all over. I give him a sheepish smile shrugging, “Hey Wessy,” he gives a small shake of his head and walks past me straight to the principal’s office. The secretary gives me a smug grin as the door closes, I stick my tongue out at her in retaliation, crossing my arms, my nerves getting to me.

Uncle Wes wasn’t a hard ass but he also wasn’t supposed to be working today. I doubted that Wes could ever really be in a bad mood, he never was whenever I saw him. The silver cuffs he had in his hands as he walked out of the office made that doubt shrivel away. Guess there were bad days with Wessy. “Alright Miss Estrada, stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

“Are you going to carry my backpack for me?” He gave me a raised eyebrow, “It’s a valid question. If you’re not I have to put it on before you cuff me.” He picked up the bag slinging it over his shoulder as I turned so he could bind my wrists. He put a hand on my shoulder leading me out the door to the car. The snow had started to fall, clouds leaving my mouth with each breath I blew out seeing how big I could make them. Wren was right, I should have brought a bigger coat. “Hey Wessy they aren’t looking you can take the cuffs off.”

He didn’t say anything as he opened the door pushing my head down. My stomach drops as he slams the door making his way to the driver's seat, my bag being tossed on the floor next to him. He must have told mom and dad, he’s gotta just be playing so they could know how mad they were at me. Well dad at least. Mom would probably have let me off the hook...mostly. The cuffs are digging into my wrists a little as I shift trying to get comfortable, “So,” I hold out, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be working today.”

“Got called in,” his hazel eyes met mine in the rearview, “Shift was over too.”

“Oh,” that’s why he was upset, “She wearing the cowboy hat again?” I gave him a wink hoping to lighten the mood. He didn’t share my sense of humor today, “Upside is you get the over time right? You can make it up to her with, uhm...I nice bottle of wine? What do you get Aunt Wren for gifts other than y-.”

“Liz,” he pinched the bridge of his nose while we waited for the light to change colors. “Sorry. Rough morning.”

I looked down to the floor, my hair covering my face, “I didn’t help with that sorry.”

He gave a smirk as the light went green, “You made it better actually.”

I looked up, my brown eyes wide, “You didn’t tell mom and dad?”

“They left me in charge,” I rolled my eyes smiling, “Okay they left Wren in charge. Ain’t no reason to tell if Wren’s gonna laugh about it. You did nothin’ wrong in her eyes.”

He pulled into the main street of Falls End, just in front of the ice cream shop, “We’re stopping for ice cream before the station.”

“Ain’t going to the station. Shift’s over,” he helped me out of the car taking the cuffs off. I rubbed my wrists putting on my coat, “Then I’d have to call Raf and Cat.”

“No one wants to do that, which works in my favor,” the shop was warm and empty as we both got a cone. The snow having let up a little as we made our way down the sidewalk, “You know mom used to tell me you could tell she was a Colorado girl cause she eats ice cream in the dead of winter. I think it’s just a mountain thing really.”

I jumped on the small stone wall keeping my balance in the white boots, “You’re glad Danny’s with your mom.” I grimaced at the mention of my younger brother, out having fun with them while I was stuck here, “He’d have told on ya.”

“Well dad can’t do anything even if he wanted and mom would have taken my side,” I finished the cone stuffing my hands in the jacket pockets, pulling out the gloves.

“You exposed your Mr. Mable’s porn search history,” I shrugged, “and then proceeded to paint the words facist pig all over his classroom.”

I wave off his words, “Hey it’s not my fault he’s perpetuating an oppressive systemic government by trying to indoctrinate the youth of Hope County to his archaic ways of thinking.” I jumped down just before the wall ended. “He needed to be exposed! I shouldn’t be in trouble here.”

“You also had plans to light Miss Mable’s lawn on fire,” Wes pulled out the copy of the notebook paper.

“Not my fault he lives with his sister,” I picked up some of the snow that was on a table outside the Spread Eagle. “But he really is doing wrong Wessy. He was teaching history in such a skewed way and no one was listening to me. No one else had to hear what he said about us...,” for all the diversity that had been happening in nowhere Montana, some never caught up to the twenty-first century. I sigh stopping looking at how the snow is packing, thoughts wandering to how I wouldn’t be here if things were different. “I miss dad,” Wes looked at me sympathetically, his arm covering my shoulders, “He would have done something about it a long time ago. They would have listened to him instead of blowing him off like they did me and mom.”

“He’ll be back soon,” he gives me a squeeze, “Last time he’ll be away for this long. Or ever I hear.”

I gathered some more of the snow, “Stupid SATs. You think they would allow some kids to reschedule them for emergencies,” the ball that was forming in my hand was perfect. “Then I could have lied so I could have gone to see him too,” I couldn’t remember the last time I threw a snowball this perfect. Dad was the one that taught me, I held it up inspecting it.

Wes must have noticed the scheming glint in my eyes as he backed away, “Liz,” he warned.

“What? I’m not gonna throw it,” it’s just too perfect to throw, “Can I have those plans back by the way?”

“No.” I look up at him surprised, it was just a piece of paper.

“What if I need them for a school project? I worked really hard on them.” I tried to reach up for them, his hand just out of my grasp. Being five foot six did little to help against Wes’ height apparently.

“Only sayin’ no cause of Wren,” right he had a point there, “Not gonna give her the excuse.” I looked back to the snowball still in my hand, Wes’ eyes going a little wide, “No. No. Liz,” he warned taking a few steps back, “Don’t you dare.”

“Then give me the plans back,” I held up my arm aiming, “I’ll make sure Tia Wren doesn’t get them. But I worked really hard on them. I need to preserve the memory of this day.”

“I’m warning you,” he flinched as I jerked my arm back ever so slightly, “Don’t you dare throw that snowball.”

“The plans Wessy. Cough ‘em up,” I held my free hand out for him to give me back the paper.

He looked up to his hand, “Oh these plans? Cough ‘em up ya say?” He smirked looking me in the eye. “Fine,” my eyes went wide, jaw dropping, as he crumbled up the paper sticking it in his mouth. His smile smug as the plans sat in his mouth, hands on his hips, it was gross and rude of him.

“Goddamnit! Wessy!” I threw the snowball at him, getting him in the face. He coughed keeping his mouth shut. “Gross!”

I picked up another snowball throwing it at him, he laughed causing the paper to fall into his hands, “Still want ‘em?”

“No! I don’t want your stupid germs on them!” I didn’t at least, I lunged for them, “Wren don’t give a fuck though!” I’d suffer for her cause if I had to, if anything it was payback for him keeping the stupid handcuffs on for as long as he did.

#deputy hwes #lizette eden oc #x: top chefs #Let's have some wholesome fun here #brotp: prepare for trouble n make it double

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chobit92 · 4 years

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Home: Jacob Seed/OC Chapter 37

(2 weeks later: Mara parks the ATV outside the Hope County Clinic in Holland Valley. She walks up to the door and goes inside. She freezes in the doorway. The foyer is a wreck and there’s blood splattered up the walls.). Mara: Hello? (She walks into the small office. It’s been trashed as has the other office. She goes into the main room. The examination table has been turned over and the medical equipment is gone. The three large cabinets that are usually filled with various medicines are broken and empty. There’s something written on the wall in black paint. Mara lets out a small wail and starts to sob sinking to the floor. She isn’t going to have her appointment with the doctor. The only other doctors in the county now are members of Edens Gate.

---Joseph has just finished his sermon. Most have left the church to carry out their daily tasks. Faith, John, Jacob, Joseph, Terry and Evelyn remain.). Terry: Why would Mara miss a sermon? Faith: There’s something wrong with her. She’s been acting really weird lately. Evelyn: She’s gone from being homeless and starving with nobody to having her sister back and living with all these strangers. It’s a big change. Terry: You said that everything with Holly was fine now. Evelyn: It is. They were sewing together yesterday afternoon and talking too. Faith: Then where has she gone? Evelyn: I don’t know dear. (Lexi walks in.). Lexi: Mara’s just pulled up. Evelyn: Well tell her to get in here would you dear? Lexi: Yeah. (Lexi leaves and a minute later Mara walks in.). Evelyn: Hello dear. Where were you today? Mara: What? Evelyn: Are you alright dear? You look very pale. Mara: Do I? I’m fine. Just not feeling well. Evelyn: Still? Mara: It’s being around that bliss shit. Evelyn: Hm. You’ll get used to it dear. Faith: Why weren’t you at the sermon? Mara: Because I’ve spent most of the morning with my head over the bog. Do you need me to do something coz if you don’t I’m just gonna go lie down for a bit. (She turns and walks to the door.). Faith: Sis! (Mara leaves.). Faith: See what I mean? She’s acting funny. Evelyn: Hm. I’ll go talk to her. Joseph: I’ll talk to her. (Joseph leaves the church. He catches up to Mara on her way to the barn.). Joseph: Mara? Mara: What do you want Joe? Look I’m sorry I missed your sermon but I figured you wouldn’t want me throwing up all over the floor. It would have looked like a scene from the exorcist. Joseph: My child? (He grabs her arm and turns her to face him.). Joseph: Where is this attitude coming from? Mara: What attitude? I just don’t feel well. (They reach the barn and she climbs onto the top bunk and lies down with her back to him.). Joseph: Talk to me child. What is wrong? Mara: Nothing. I just don’t feel well. Joseph: You need to eat something and drink some water. I’ll leave you to rest but I expect to see you this afternoon. We need to talk about this attitude of yours. Mara: Whatever Joe. (Joseph grits his teeth and bows his head. He doesn’t want to do this but she is forcing his hand. He grabs her and yanks her off of the bunk bed.). Mara: Hey! Joseph: Get up now and follow me. (Mara sighs angrily and follows him over to the obstacle course.). Joseph: Steve! (Steve jogs over.). Steve: Yes Father? Joseph: I want Mara to run this course until she collapses from exhaustion. Steve: Yes Father. (Joseph stares at Mara and she gets the feeling he’s reading her mind again.). Mara: You trying to kill us Joe? Joseph: You will do as your told, there will be no more attitude, no more missing sermons. Mara: I wasn’t feeling- Joseph: Do you want a place with us or not? Mara: There’s no place for me. Never was. Joseph: That’s not true. You have a place here with us. You are throwing it away. Now run the course. (Mara sighs.). Joseph: Without any attitude. (Mara really doesn’t feel like running. She feels lightheaded and sick. She starts running the course but a few minutes later she has collapsed in the dirt.). Joseph: Up you get Mara. (She doesn’t move. Steve walks over to her and rolls her over.). Steve: She’s passed out. (Joseph sighs and lifts her up carrying over to the barn and lying her down on the bottom bunk. He brushes her hair out of her face. A minute later she stirs then sits up before throwing up on the floor. She then starts to sob. Joseph frowns.). Joseph: Why are you crying? Mara: Coz it’s all crap innit? Joseph: What is? Mara: My life. Just one big joke Joe. Joseph: No. You have a new life now. Mara: Until it’s gone. Happiness doesn’t last for me. Joseph: It can if you let it. (She leans against him and he puts an arm around her.). Mara: Sorry. Joseph: For? Mara: Acting like a stroppy teenager giving her dad attitude. (Joseph can’t help but smile slightly.). Joseph: You are forgiven my child. (She looks up at him. He looks down at her, their noses are inches apart.). Mara: How do you do that? Joseph: Do what? Mara: Be so calm all the time. Joseph: There is no need to be angry. It achieves nothing. (He brushes a hand through her hair. She closes her eyes.). Mara: I need to pee. (She giggles.). Mara: Sorry. (She gets up and sways slightly. He gets up and supports her. She leans against him.). Mara: How can you be so warm when you walk around wearing nothing? You know I think you’re a wizard Joe. Joseph: I’m a what? Mara: A wizard. (Then she laughs.). Mara: You just quoted Harry Potter. Joseph: I did? Mara: Yeah. (They walk over to the toilets and she goes inside the small cubicle. The toilets are wooden and are just really holes in the ground. When she is done she goes over to the spigot and washes her hands.). Mara: Guess I’d better get back to the course. Joseph: I have a better idea. Mara: You do? Joseph: I don’t want you collapsing on me again. (She follows him back to his church. They go inside and Faith, John and Jacob look up.). Faith: Sis. Mara: Hey. (Joseph picks up a white book and hands it to Mara.). Joseph: I don’t think you have yet read my word. Everybody reads it. So that they understand. (Mara takes the book and looks at the floor.). Mara: Okay. Joseph: You need to be resting and I thought it a perfect opportunity for you to read. (Mara doesn’t say anything.). Faith: Just read it sis. Okay? (Mara can feel her cheeks burning and she knows she’s blushing.). Mara: I’ll see you later then. (She turns and starts to walk off.). Faith: Sis? Mara: Yeah? Faith: I was thinking...We should spend the day together tomorrow. We don’t see each other often enough. Mara: Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. (Mara leaves.). Faith: There’s something wrong. The way she’s acting...It’s like she just doesn’t care anymore...About anything. John: Maybe she’s done something wrong. Faith: Like what? She’s been doing everything to help everyone here and she’s been trying to fit in. (John shrugs.). Faith: Trust you to think the worst of her John. John: I wasn’t. I was just making a suggestion. Faith: I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I will find out what’s wrong. John: Hm. I can talk to her. Faith: No. I’ll do it. We’re sisters we tell each other everything. John: Clearly not. (Holly has walked in and has been listening.). Holly: Are you talking about Mara? Faith: It’s very rude to eavesdrop you know? Holly: I couldn’t help but overhear. Faith: How are you two getting on now? (Holly smiles. But inside she is boiling with rage. She saw Mara yesterday talking to John and they were close...Very close. They were laughing together and then Mara hugged him. In front of everyone! Hugged him! Mara has told her, assured her, that there is nothing going on but Holly doesn’t believe her. She wants Mara gone.). Holly: Yes...I’m still getting to know her but we’re okay. I realise how wrong it was to treat her that way. I let my sin get the better of me but we’re all good now. Faith: Good. Holly: Though... Faith: What? Holly: Well...She’s been acting weird right? Faith: Yes. Do you know why? Holly: Well...She doesn’t want to be here. Faith: What? Holly: Well we’ve noticed her sneaking off several times. When I asked her about it she didn’t say much. Evelyn told me that she had a doctor’s appointment a couple of weeks ago but- Joseph: She did. She has already told me where she was. The doctor at the clinic in Holland Valley confirmed to us that she had been to see him. He also told me what he treated her for. Holly: Oh. Joseph: She had an infection and he gave her antibiotics. Holly: She could have just seen a doctor here. Joseph: She wasn’t aware of that. I also think that she was embarrassed. (Jacob is frowning.). Holly: I see. Well this morning when she was meant to be here she wasn’t. Joseph: She wasn’t feeling well. Holly: Yes but where was she? She wasn’t here. If she was unwell why wasn’t she in bed? She left the compound again. When she came back she seemed very upset and...Scared. (Everyone looks confused.). Holly: I think she’s meeting up with someone. John: You mean you think she is going to betray us? How? Holly: I don’t know. But she doesn’t want to be here. She only joined for you Faith. She isn’t happy and I’m worried that she’s planning something. Faith: What? Holly: Well she keeps sneaking away and not telling anyone where she’s been. So I think she’s thinking of leaving and she’s been meeting someone who’s gonna help her. Faith: I don’t believe you. Holly: Well I’m sorry I know she’s your sister but you have to consider- Faith: Yes she’s my sister and there is no proof whatsoever of what you are saying. All we have is your word, your assumptions, there could be a perfectly good explanation as to why Mara keeps sneaking off and it could have nothing to do with the fact that she is thinking of leaving us. Leaving me. Holly: Could always follow her. John: Hm. Could keep an eye on her. Clearly there’s something going on. Faith: I trust my sister. I don’t believe you. (Faith walks off leaving the church.). Holly: I didn’t mean to upset her. It’s just strange that Mara keeps sneaking off isn’t it? Joseph: Hm. You should not make assumptions and spread rumours Holly. Unless you are sure of the truth. This is how innocent people get punished for things they have not done. This is how people’s good names are slandered by all. It all starts with one rumour, one piece of gossip. Holly: Yes Father. I understand. Joseph: Good. (Holly leaves.). Joseph: What do you think Jacob? Jacob: About what? Women gossiping? I ain’t really interested. It’s pathetic. Joseph: No. I meant what do you think about Mara? Do you think she would leave us? That she would betray her family? (Jacob thinks. He doesn’t know her all that well but he is yet to see her run from anything.). Jacob: I don’t know. What’s it matter? Ain’t like nothings gonna happen. Don’t matter if she runs or if she tries to bring people here. They won’t budge us. Joseph: No. But I will be deeply disappointed if Holly is right about Mara. Jacob: You just said so yourself that it is just gossip Joe. Joseph: Yes. It is. Jacob: Holly doesn’t like Mara. She’s jealous of her because she’s such good friends with John. I think that says more about Holly than it does Mara. (Jacob shrugs before leaving the church.).

#Far Cry 5 #Writing #My Writing #Jacob Seed #Jacob Seed x Mara Jessop #Mara Jessop #Faiths sister #Faith Seed #John Seed #Joseph Seed #original characters

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youngcheesecakegladiator-blog · 5 years

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Forever Betty

Recently, my sister Wendi provided us with a nostalgic glimpse at our shared past in a Google photo collection.[1] Sis’ montage has “taken us all back” a bit, and prompted me to take a retro-active glance at some of the people (and characters) that we, as a family, shared that road less traveled by.[2] Unsure of exactly where to begin or “who” to begin with, I opted to start with an acquaintance of our mother’s, to see if I couldn’t retrace the ‘life steps’ of that old family friend. (And yes, since my twelve year old self is holding her hand in the picture above, I’m pretty sure that you’ve already guessed who that old friend might be.) For those of you who never knew her, or would ever know of her, well, her name was Betty. I know it will come as no shock to some of you that I’ve gone looking for (and to see whatever became of) the ever elusive and “big bonneted blue-haired,” Amazon, Betty Bodine.

Now don’t get me started about why my adolescent self has somehow been frozen in time while holding the statuesque Betty’s hand in that late 1960’s California backyard photo. The truth is Betty held sway over my little kid’s brain long before that picture was ever taken. Betty was someone not unlike a super-hero to my little seven year old self, and she’s become kind of an enigma to all of the “me’s” since then. You see in a lot of ways, Betty (just like her hair) was truly bigger than life. She was a working mom in 1963 (nobody’s mom actually went to work in 1963) and she drove a BIG brand new’63 Chevrolet Impala sedan painted (what else but?) a silvery misty blue. She dressed up too, and no, not like our “Nana” did - poor Nana - who actually had to go to work.[3] No, Betty Bodine dressed like she liked to go to work. She raced off in that blue Impala every day, cigarette smoke trailing alongside the exhaust and her blue tinted hairspray. She was somehow free and yes, even (oddly) glamorous.

For those of you that never knew them, Betty lived with her husband Dave and her son Ricky. Betty worked at Hartfield’s at the local mall, a sort of ‘cut-above-average’ (not really…) dress shop that our mom could never afford to shop at. Dave was a “good old boy,” and Ricky was Dave and Betty’s only child. Ricky was kind of a sullen kid, a spoiled kid really; one who liked to play with matches alongside his chemistry set, and dig big deep army style “fox holes” in the backyard. After playing “army” Ricky would relish melting his toy soldiers, and when no one was looking (except maybe me) play “monsters” with them - and all this way before anything like The Walking Dead was ever thought of.[4] Dave and Betty gave little Ricky whatever he wanted, and Ricky never wanted for anything. In fact, Ricky didn’t just have one bedroom for all his mostly melted toy soldiers. Ricky Bodine had two. Betty had torn down a wall between two rooms so little Ricky could have one giant bedroom – separated only by Ricky’s optional giant slider door between the two. All of this so Ricky could spread out with his many gifts (and melted soldiers) about the place. I think Ricky thought he was.

Ricky was older than me. I think by about three years. It wasn’t that Ricky was a mean kid or anything. It was just that he was kind of a loner. Ricky didn’t talk a lot, but truthfully, next to Betty, I thought Ricky hung the moon. He had a wiseacre way about him that just said “totally cool” to my seven year old self. But like my sister Darla would say about him many years later, it always seemed like Ricky was just someone who was bound to meet a “bad end.” I sure hope that didn’t happen.

But back then though, at least for me, the Bodine family was kind of the bomb. Ricky’s dad, Dave, seemed to stay home all the time (our dad was always gone) while Betty flew off in the Impala to, of all exciting places in 1963 - the Mall. (Our mom drove a red Ford Falcon Station Wagon that looked like it was on loan from Search and Rescue.) Betty had a super cool blue tinted bee-hive hair-do. Our mom had little pink curlers that smelled like a permanent solution and scarf Nana had given her for Christmas. Dave did cool stuff when he was at home, like chop off the heads off of hundreds of (dead) fish and stuff them into wishing well planters he had made out of bricks in their front yard. (So cool!) Dave was always making something out of bricks. But truth be told, I think Betty seemed to like that Dave was busy making things out of bricks. And honestly, looking back, I don’t remember a lot of “Dave and Betty” moments, only Dave or Betty, or Ricky moments.

Betty liked to play cards, and I think Dave did too - though it seemed I played more cards with the crafty Ricky than either of those two. Betty liked to play Canasta – you know, with those HUGE decks of cards and extra suits of everything. [5] Betty did teach me how to play Canasta. I think she taught my mom to play Canasta too. In the very back of my mind I think I had a sleep over at Ricky’s (in his two bedrooms!) one night while mom and dad played (what else) Canasta with Dave and Betty. The cigarette smoke was so thick. I don’t think I knew where my sisters were. It seems like Wendi was a baby asleep in a crib in Betty’s living room. Maybe Darla was with me and Ricky. Ugh, girls.

We moved away from the Bodines’ in 1964. Betty and Dave seemed to split up not long after that, and well, Ricky looks to have stayed living with Dave.[6] Betty moved away, though I was never quite sure where. I know that Betty and Ricky came sans Dave to visit us at our new house up north once, but after that there was no word of Betty or Ricky. Mom said that Betty had gone away, that she’d had a baby boy out of wedlock with “some man” and well that was sort of the end of it. Mom said that Betty’s life was complicated, and that Betty had had to call the baby “a Bodine” when he really wasn’t. I remember that didn’t make much sense to me at the time. Once about 1970, after we’d returned to SoCal, Mom did drive back to see Dave. I remember being sad because Ricky wasn’t there. (Who was I gonna melt stuff with?) Ricky was older and gone by 1970. Dave seemed to live alone with nothing but tropical fish tanks everywhere. Dave had gone from cutting the heads off of fish for wishing well planter boxes to keeping fish in tanks instead. Dave had always seemed kind of lonely. I think mom was lonely too when she went to see Dave. He schooled me in the art of keeping an aquarium while he and Mom kind of smiled a lot at each other. And then, as quickly as we’d arrived back at Dave’s that last time, we were gone. I guess for me (and for mom) that was the last of Dave.

So in light of all “this,” and in light of the last nearly sixty years, well, what can I say, I wanted to know more. I wasn’t sure where to begin, but I figured I’d start with Ricky, and see where that might take me. While I had a general idea that Ricky was about 3 years older than I was, I had no clue how old Dave and Betty were – they were just older than mom and dad. To do this I was going to have to fall back on what I like to call our “vestigial memories,” and hope that those memories would lead me to the right place. (And that I would not just be bullshitting myself so to speak.)

Allowing for time and place and an approximate year of birth, finding Ricky was easy enough. I knew that Dave and Ricky had stayed in Fullerton at least until 1970, so that meant that Ricky (if he’d completed school) had probably gone to a local high school. Ancestry.com has a pretty good selection of yearbooks, so I was able to find a likely candidate for “Ricky Bodine” in the Placentia, California El Dorado High School year book for 1968. In comparing this yearbook picture to those backward pictures of Betty and Ricky from the late 1960’s I was pretty sure I had the right guy. Still I needed more.

So feeling confident, I decided I’d see what I couldn’t find out about Dave and Betty. Instantly, I had no luck. Armed only with the names of “Dave” and of Betty,” and with an address in Fullerton, California from 1963-1970, I got nowhere fast. And sure, there were PLENTY of “Dave Bodines” and no shortage of “Betty Bodines,” but none seemed to fit quite right. Ugh. So I went back to “Ricky” and took a chance. I looked to see if it was possible that Ricky had been born in California. Using an approximated birth year of “1952,” the great Gods of Google, and Ancestry.com, I almost immediately came back with a birth record for a “Rick Marshal Bodine,” born at Los Angeles, California, 6 June 1952. [7] Hmmmm….maybe? This record at least gave me a place to look – and a valuable clue. This Rick Bodine’s mother’s maiden name was “Marshall.” From there I decided to play it “random” hoping that some sort of a marriage record might “pop - up” if I simply sought out any sort of a marriage record between a “Marshall” and a “Bodine.” It was kind of a long shot that they would be “our” Ricky’s parents – and that his parents Dave and Betty would have necessarily have been married in California, but hey, that what we genealogist types do, right?

No luck – I did not locate any marriage record for a “Bodine to a Marshall.” But I did find something else. If you can’t find a marriage record, what’s the next best thing? You guessed it – a divorce. The California Divorce Index led me to a divorce at Orange County, California, December 1967, for “Othel David Bodine,” and his wife “Mary Elizabeth Marshall.” [8] With this, I was pretty sure that I had the parents of “Rick Marshall Bodine,” aka Ricky Bodine. Now I don’t know about you, but who names their son “Othel?” (No wonder he went by “Dave,” and even less a wonder that I couldn’t find him.) And stupid me for looking for a woman named Betty. (Duh!) Very few ladies are actually ever named “Betty.” I will admit though that I didn’t expect Betty’s first name to have actually been “Mary.” However at least now I had a way to fill in some of the blanks.

Regrettably I found that Othel David “Dave” Bodine died in Arizona in 2003. He was a veteran of World War II, and is honored there with a military headstone. The records are unclear if he ever remarried or not, and I haven’t followed that rabbit down the hole too far just yet. He looks to have followed Ricky to Arizona (or vice-versa) where Ricky looks to be living now in Mesa, with what is probably Ricky’s second wife. Ricky doesn’t look to have met a bad end at all near as I can tell. Family trees list Ricky as the father of four children and several grandchildren. You go Ricky Bodine!

Betty’s life has proven to still be more elusive. I was able to discover that “Mary Elizabeth Betty (Marshall) (Bodine) Wolf was born in Los Angeles on May 5, 1926, and that Betty passed away in Los Angeles County, California on February 28, 2007. [9] (However, as of yet I am unable to locate her final resting place.) I did learn that Betty’s father, Joseph Marshall, died young, and that Betty’s mother, a woman called Mitzi Madzka, and was an Austrian immigrant from Vienna lived to be nearly 100. Betty did remarry at Reno, in July of 1971, a man named Dale Wolf. (From Dave to Dale?) I get the sense that there was some alienation between Ricky and his mother, as some family trees only acknowledge “Ricky” as Betty’s son, while others imply the private faces of Betty’s other children still living. The fate or destiny of Betty’s baby boy she had after Dave Bodine is still unknown.

I’m taking a chance, and this weekend I am reaching out to Ricky. In this day and age of Google locating his likely address in Arizona was not all that difficult, so I have dropped him a line the old fashioned snail mail way. We’ll see if he replies, and I will keep you informed should you care to learn his fate. It’s always interesting to me to study the lives of those that we have encountered and then parted ways with for whatever reason. I liked the Bodines, and well, I hope that wherever Betty and Dave are that they are finally happy, and maybe even a little bit at peace.

[1] “Around the house,” a Google album photo collection by Wendi Record, as viewed February 2020

[2] A misquoted line from Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”

[3] Alta Violet (Sage)(Lee) Dixon – (1909-2004)

[4] The Walking Dead, a television program 2010 - and as taken from a graphic novel co-created by Robert Kirkman

[5] Canasta: A card game of Uruguayan origins (1939) that became increasingly popular in the United States during the 1950’s with popularity waning into the later 1960’s; a member of the Rummy family, it is commonly played with a French deck, and commonly played by four in two partnerships, although variations for different numbers of players exists.

[6] California, Divorce Index, 1966-1984, Ancestry.com, for “Othel David Bodine” and “Mary Elizabeth “Betty” (Marshall) Bodine, at Orange County, California, December 1967

[7] California Birth Index, 1905-1995 Ancestry.com, for birth of “Rick Marshall Bodine,” at Los Angeles, 6 June 1952

[8] California Divorce Index, 1966-1984 Ancestry.com, for divorce of “Othel David Bodine” and “Mary Elizabeth Marshall,” Orange County, California, December 1967

[9] U.S., Social Security Death Index, 1935-2014 Ancestry.com, for the death of “Mary E. Wolf,” born 5 May 1926, died 28 Feb 2007; U.S., Social Security Applications and Claims Index, 1936-2007, Ancestry.com, for “Mary Elizabeth Wolf,” aka “Mary E. Bodine,” date of birth 5 May 1926, date of death 28 Feb 2007; California Birth Index, 1905-1995, Ancestry.com, for “Mary Elizabeth Marshall,” born Los Angeles County, 5 May 1926; Nevada Marriage Index, 1956-2005, Ancestry.com, for marriage of “Mary Elizabeth Bodine” to “Dale Virgil Wolf,” at Reno, Nevada, 3 July 1971.

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jacobseedvaas35 · 5 years

Text

A Love Like No Other

Jacob Seed X OC Ana Pearce

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Mention of Abuse

Word count: 1664

Chapter One

Moving to Hope County was one of the best decisions that her parents ever made. It had everything; forests to explore, mountains to climb, places to visit and very nice people. Ana Pearce, absolutely loved Hope County already and it had only been two days since her and her family moved to the County.

Upon arriving to Hope County, The Pearce Family was invited to Hope County Jail, where they met the County Sheriff. The family was given an option to choose from three different regions. Going through the pamphlet, Ana immediately fell in love with one region known as, Whitetail Mountains. It was perfect for her. It had so much more forests, mountains and a hotel. Unfortunately, her parents had chosen to live in Holland Valley instead. Not that she complained, it had forests to explore as well but not much like Whitetail Mountains.

It was a Sunday morning, everyone was still asleep after being exhausted from all the unpacking they had to do. Except for Ana, she was always an early bird. She was super keen to go out and explore today. The only problem was, she had controlling parents, who could get abusive if one of their children did something wrong or disobeyed their rules. Ana and her two sisters have experienced what it could be like if they disobeyed their parents but their older brother, Blake, always disobeyed them. Back in New York, he'd always sneak out of the house and meet up with his friends, drinking and partying till midnight.

For the parents, Tim and Kelly, they didn't know the difference between abuse and teaching their children a lesson. For Tim, taking his belt off and hitting his daughters with it, meant that he was being a good parent and teaching them a lesson. To others it was straight out abuse and he had gotten into trouble many times but never learnt his lesson. Kelly was the same, she'd use anything that was hard to teach her children a lesson but never had gotten caught doing it.

That's where the brother comes in. Tim and Kelly feared their son Blake. Many times he had fought back and left his parents with bruises or cuts. Since then, Blake had sworn to protect his sisters from copping anymore abuse from their parents. Now the girls lived freely. They were able to do whatever they wanted, no matter how angry their parents got and that's why Ana decided that she was going to go out and explore Hope County.

She tippy toed into her brother’s room, to let him know that she was going out. "Blake? Wake up?".

"What?" Blake said, opening his left eye only.

"I'm going out to explore a little bit. I want to see what this place has to offer" Ana explained to her brother.

Blake's other eye flung open wide and he immediately sat up. "Go back to your room. I'll get changed and come with you".

Ana was happy to have her brother come along with her. At least now her fear of her parents were completely gone. "Ok" she said and quietly made her way back to the bedroom.

"Mom and dads going to get angry" Ana said as she walked beside her brother.

"Fuck mom and dad. What are they going to do when I'm around?" Blake said, trying to reassure his little sister. "They won't hurt you Ana".

Ana smiled at her brother and continued to follow him. They came across as sign that pointed in the direction of a busy but small town. Blake looked at the sign, "Falls End" he read out loud and the two of them continued to approach the town.

"Looks really busy" Ana said as she looked in every direction and saw crowds of people walking around. "Must be a popular place, Falls End".

"Anywhere that has a bar, is always popular. Let's keep looking around and see what else we can find here" Blake said and started walking again. "Hey, I've got an idea".

"What's that?" Ana asked.

"You remember that church we came across, while driving past?" Blake asked.

"You mean that church on that little island type of thingy?" Ana looked at her brother and noticed a cheeky smile on his face. "That's so far away. We can‘t walk all the way there".

Blake took out a set of keys from his pocket and dangled it in front of Ana's face. "We'll just have to borrow mom and dad's van. Come on".

After sneakily borrowing their parents van, Blake and Ana finally arrived at the church. It seemed to be another popular location in Hope County. There was a line of people, waiting for the church doors to open. Ana and Blake joined the line, both curious to see what the big fuss about this church was. Not long after, the doors finally opened and the line started moving slowly. Walking in, Ana and Blake saw four people standing on the stage, waiting for everyone to take a seat. The two siblings decided to be the only two to stay standing, while everyone sat down.

"Blake, I've got a bad feeling about his" Ana whispered to her brother. "I don't think this is a normal church. Look at these people. Most of them are wearing the same clothes and those guys are holding guns".

Blake looked around and realised that his sister was right. Something seemed odd about these people. He was getting some bad vibes from the men that were holding guns and noticed that they continually looking at Blake and Ana.

"We should go" Ana whispered again.

"I don't think so. Those guys are constantly watching at us. Just stay cool" Blake ordered his sister and looked back at the man standing on the stage.

"Welcome my children. It's so great to see everyone here today" the man with the bun started speaking.

As he continued to talk, Ana looked around the church, examining every single person. As she looked to the left of the stage, she made eye contact with a man that stood with his arms crossed around his chest. He was wearing a camouflage jacket, which Ana made out as an army jacket. He had ginger hair and facial hair and what looked to be scars, painted all over his arms. The man continued to stare at her, making Ana feel incredibly uncomfortable. Yes, he was good looking but the way he looked at her was intense. It seemed like he could sense her fear and that he was feeding off it.

The sermon went on for a good hour but when it finally ended, Blake and Ana couldn't wait to leave before anyone else noticed them.

"We should go" Blake said to Ana.

The two of them were just approaching their van when they were suddenly stopped by the men with guns. Blake and Ana came to an immediate stop and looked at each other.

"Who are you two and what are you both doing here?" One of them men started questioning them.

"Listen, pal. We didn't come here with any bad intentions. When we saw a church, we thought we'd check it out" Blake started explaining.

"The Father would like to see you two in the church" the other man informed them.

"We didn't do anything wrong" Ana said, scared that something bad was going to happen.

"Ana" Blake pushed her behind him and continued to reason with the guys. "Look we are new here and were just checking things out in Hope County".

"Tell it to the Father" the guy said and pointed the gun at Blake. The men escorted Ana and Blake back inside the church. The same four people were once again standing on the stage, talking amongst themselves until they saw them walk into the church.

"Father! We've bought the couple that you've asked to see" the man that led them said.

"Thank you my child. You are dismissed" the topless guy said and approached Blake and Ana. "I've never seen you two before. You must be new to the County?".

"Ahh. Yeah. We moved two days ago" Blake replied back.

"Welcome to Hope County my children. I'm Joseph Seed and these are my brothers, Jacob and John. My sister Faith" Joseph introduced his family.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm Blake and this is my youngest sister, Ana" Blake introduced himself too. "I hope we didn't do anything wrong. We drove by the church when we moved and thought we'd check it out. We don't have any bad intentions whatsoever".

"I'm sorry if we've frightened you. When I saw new faces, I was a little surprised and wanted to meet you two. Is it just the two of you?" Joseph asked, his brothers and sister now joining them in the middle of the church.

"No, there's our other two sisters; Haley and Hannah and our parents. We pretty much snuck out to explore a little. Our parents can be.... controlling at times" Blake explained. "Well more towards my sisters".

"Yeah, if you're not around" Ana added.

"They sound like... interesting people" Joseph smiled.

"You ask anyone from New York, they'd tell you that they are nothing but abusive parents" Blake said and looked at Ana, who gave him a nod of approval.

"Blake, I think we should go. Everyone would be awake" Ana said, tugging on his arm. She was keen to get out of there once she noticed that the same man from before, was staring at her again. Up closer he looked ten times hotter but Ana still felt a little uncomfortable around him. "Plus I'm getting hungry too".

"Go my children but I'd like to see you two again and your sisters. My church doors are always opened" Joseph said, putting his hands on each other their shoulders.

"Thank you. Hope to see you all again" Blake turned around to Ana and smiled. "Come on fussy pants. Let's go".

#jacob seed #far cry 5 #fc 5 #jacob seed x oc #fanfic #trash story #ana pearce #john seed #joseph seed #faith seed #pearce family #far cry 5 fandom #far cry 5 obsessed #a love like no other

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macdvnaldarchive · 6 years

Photo

MODERN AU : mary, the struggling uni student.

some trigger warnings; there’s talk of racism in here, as well as violence motivated by racism, mentions of ptsd

history.

mary grew up in ullapool, still. middle child to a mexican mother and scottish father, both dairy farmers, growing up running around the highlands and grinning with grass stains on her knees. tbf, the first eleven years of her life aren’t much different in this au, besides the fact that she grew up watching different tv programs and was a ‘90s kid, rather than a ‘60s one.

so let’s talk about mary as a preteen. mary went to a small secondary school in her hometown, where there wasn’t anyone who looked like her besides her sister and brothers. she was clever, though, highly so: an exceptional student, her teachers would say, but she does like to talk. mary was a loud kid, present, maybe even a bit rambunctious.

and she was mostly angry. because this was a small town in scotland, not a big city, and people were quick to judge their only brown classmates. i think in this au, mary would deal a lot more with racism than she did in the wizarding world -- not that it doesn’t exist there, because i think it does. still, hogwarts was a more diverse place, whereas she was one of a handful of students of colour at her school. when she came out the closet as bi at fifteen -- she didn’t know the word pan yet, which she would later use to identify -- things only seemed to get worse. ullapool was traditional, there wasn’t much acceptance concerning sexuality ( her parents struggled with it too, deeply, but didn’t look at her the way some of her classmates did ).

when she is sixteen, mary is jumped when walking home from a friends’ house in the evening. there’s no real reason why, besides bigotry, besides prejudice and racism. maybe it was sparked by something she had said, or tweeted, or shared --- it doesn’t matter. it shouldn’t happen, and still it does. there is no excuse. they’re boys from year 13, a year above her, a bit older, but not at all more mature. they go three against one. mary shatters the bones in her left arm and comes home with a black eye and a bleeding nose.

nothing happens, to the boys. they’re not expelled, because it was near the end of the year, so it’d be a pity to keep them from graduating. they’d be gone in a bit anyway. besides, it didn’t happen on schoolgrounds. her principal throws excuses at her head and she sits there, boiling with rage.

she has nowhere else to go; there’s no schools to transfer to that are nearby enough. and so she keeps going to school, her rage still quietly simmering while she keeps her head down. people sign her cast. she goes to therapy, gets diagnosed with PTSD -- she keeps having flashbacks, keeps hearing their voices, can feel the punches landing still -- and tries to keep moving.

when they move away for university, she feels lighter. not healed, sure, but lighter. her anger finds a place, as she starts writing down her thoughts, she talks about the racism at her school online, because in ullapool no one will listen. people do online. it’s her outlet, her one way of dealing with all this without having to unload it on her family, or worse: friends who don’t get it.

this is where things are very different from wizarding world mary and muggle mary: she doesn’t think a second about joining the law enforcement. that organisation is a hundred times bigger in the UK, and there’s no war, which takes the pressure off --- the motivation is just not there, at all. in stead, she goes to university with high hopes: she wants to change the world, to talk about grating issues, to shed light on the bullshit people are put through because of things not in their control.

she’s majoring in sociology with a minor in media and communication. mary has developed a website/network/organisation (weallbleedred.co.uk). it speaks up against any forms of discrimination and is supposed to be a place where people can talk about experiences and bond together to oppose discrimination. it’s not as big as she’d like it to be, but it’s growing.

she’d like to do more NGO kind of work, might want to join Amnesty once she graduates and work for them. weallbleedred -- or red, for short -- is important, though, and it’s helping people, and so she’s not going to let it die. mary is idealistic as hell. she speaks up about her experiences, and is determined to make some changes in the world.

she’s getting nearer and nearer to graduation, and she’s excited. she’s also damned tired, because university is what? exhausting. relatable as hell.

modern & muggle stuff.

the reason she’s doing a communication and media minor? she’s fucking in love with social media. mary thinks it’s an amazing way to communicate and it has helped her so much. when she was dealing with the trauma of her attack, there were people there. when she was trying to figure out how sexuality worked, it was there. there were people there from all corners around the world, ready to talk to her, and she loved it.

she also just rly enjoys snapchat filters and scrolling down instagram, especially when procrastinating

has a fair amount of followers, too, due to her website and all

has an android phone, likes getting into android vs apple fights.

she plays football and absolutely loves it. gets really into it, too, will talk about the scottish football league forever with you. her team is ross county!!

watches a lot of documentaries and movies on netflix because she likes them better than tv shows generally? can be woken up for the office and parks and rec any night, though, and does love reality tv. also likes htgawm and dwp.

mary lives in a small, shitty apartment that she shares with four people in glasgow. she hates it, but she loves the city and she loves the campus, so she’s not often found at home, tbh

wants to stay in glasgow, or maybe move to edinburgh --- she likes the highlands, but is also tired of living in a place that’s so conservative and doesnt have starbucks’ everywhere.

is a vegetarian.

cannot drive a car, but can drive a tractor lmao. plans on getting her license eventually!! uses a bike to get most places in glasgow, tbh, or public transport (which she complains about a fair bit)

mostly wears levi’s, converse and loose jumpers or shirts. not a style icon, but there’s an aesthetic there. literally owns like 2 pairs of jeans bc levi’s cost too! damn! much! but she loves them and they were worth it.

works at a tesco and absolutely hates it, but hey! she needs the money.

conclusion.

mary would have gone into therapy, which she did not do in this verse. this definitely helps, it helps a lot. she can deal with her trauma, process it, and that’s something she never really did in this verse. i think that mary ends up less ... messy because of it?

the non-war setting also definitely helps

mary would still have a ruthless side to her, i think? it just works differently in this setting. she’d drag people without hesitation, would write long articles about people on her website, etcetera. mary doesn’t hesitate a lot. less, probably, because there’s less risk.

that’s it. i think???

#; * ! side eye emoji ( modern au. ) ;#racism tw #violence tw #ptsd tw #maraudrshq:tasks

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strixobscuro · 7 years

Text

Avengers Recover: A Proposal

(Yes, I know it’s a terrible title, but it was the best I could think of...)

Inspired by my annoyance at the way recent Marvel series (namely The Vision and Avengers Undercover) have dealt with issues of addiction and recovery, I began brainstorming my own, probably-never-to-be-published series centered around a treatment center for those like poor Victor Mancha who fall through the cracks and need help.

The facility is tentatively called the Rock Gardens (I’m not particularly married to the name, but it’s the only one that’s stuck so far), and in my head it’s based in the Hill County area of Texas, partly because I lived out there for a while, but also because it’s a spread-out area that’s less likely to attract supervillain attacks, alien invasions and similar nonsense. The layout is inspired by the facility where I lived - there’s a bunch of sex-segregated dorms, an office building/communal space, and a recreation center.

The program is basic rehab - every day starts and ends with meetings, and most days consist of a mix of group therapy sessions, seminars, and activities, with meals in between. Enrollment lasts between six weeks and several months, with residents being required to be inactive as superheroes for the duration of their stay.

Proposed Staff:

Drew is a local hero, a member of Texas’ state-sponsored superhero team, the Rangers. Once a severe alcoholic, he was forced to clean up his act after causing a lot of public damage while drunk, but he really got serious about his recovery after a near-death experience during the HYDRA Terrorcarrier attack on Crawford, which sidelined him for several months. Now several years sober, he serves as the campus director for the Rock Gardens.

Henry is a former actor who trashed his career when he got a little too enthusiastic about playing Tony Stark. After cleaning up his act, he became the Marvel Universe’s leading teetotaler, and served for a time in California’s state-sponsored superhero team, the Order. After tragedy struck his team, he rededicated himself to promoting sobriety, and set up a number of recovery centers, including the Rock Gardens, where he serves as the executive director. He has been distracted lately, busy overseeing the refurbishment of his flagship center, Mulholland Field in California.

Terrance is one of the country’s foremost experts on trauma, which is probably not surprising, given that he is cursed with the ability to weed out people’s deepest fears and manifest them. For a time, he served the Initiative, trying to use his abilities to help people, but when the Initiative was taken over by supervillains who forced him to rubber-stamp their abuses, he grew disillusioned and quit. He now works as one of the Rock Gardens’ resident therapists, specializing in identifying triggers.

Woodstock was once Los Angeles’ top late-night TV host who dabbled with superheroism, but a near-death experience coupled with an assassination scandal brought her career to an abrupt end. When her friends in X-Statix all died, she decided to get the hell out of LA and now serves as an administrator for the Gardens, making sure that every

Rachel is a former music teacher and a mutant with the ability to manipulate others with her violin. Between her blue skin, her powers, and a criminal past, she’s had difficulty fitting in, but she worked to clean up her life and now works as an music therapy instructor and security personnel - her music can calm people quickly when tempers flare.

Proposed Residents:

Ritchie is a former wrestler and superhero. A bad mix of a toxic mentor figure and a disastrous early superhero career drove him to alcoholism, culminating in him becoming famous for being the first superhero to be arrested under the SHRA. Getting your ass handed to you by Tony Stark in front of God only knows how many witnesses is a pretty damned hard bottom to hit. He worked for years to get his act together, and even managed to step into a leadership during the Serpent crisis a few years ago, but after his mentor appeared to return from the dead, he fell back into the kind of thinking that pushed him into alcoholism in the first place, so now he’s at the Gardens. Ritchie’s that guy you encounter in 12-step meetings who knows all the literature, all the vocabulary, and all the rules, but he still doesn’t have the humility or the willingness to change that underpins a successful recovery.

Sharon used to be Ms. Marvel, and then she was She-Thing. Now she keeps switching back and forth between the two identities, which has made a mess of her life, and thus she’s come to the Gardens in hopes of learning to integrate her two halves. Sharon is an example of an all-too-common story in addiction, the addict who keeps turning to compulsive behaviors (in her case, switching between superheroism and supervillainy) to stabilize a mental health issue.

Jeanne was a promising student at Avengers Academy with the ability to retain large amounts of information and copy any movement she sees, but her profound mental abilities have a downside - she is apparently fated to start losing her memories by the time she’s thirty. In a bid to make the most of the time she apparently has left, she threw herself into work after leaving the Academy, but this eventually caught up to her and she suffered profound exhaustion and started having trouble thinking, which gave her a considerable health scare. She thus checked herself into the Gardens as a workaholic, seeking to learn a healthier balance between working and rest.

Klara used to be a Runaway before her friends abandoned her. Like a lot of abuse survivors, she has built up self-defense mechanisms. Unlike most abuse survivors, her self-defense mechanisms involve subconsciously summoning violent plant life, and after a string of “sudden atrium incidents” in foster homes, she has been sent to the Rock Gardens, the nearest facility with Soames retrofitting to keep her powers from acting up at night. Klara is what some people in recovery circles like to call an adult child - due to a persistent lack of a stable environment, her emotional and psychological development has not occurred along regular lines, and so in some ways she’s very mature for an 13-year-old, but in other places, she’s slightly behind.

Katie is the daughter of U-Go Girl, a famous mutant superheroine, except that she only found this out recently, having grown up believing that U-Go Girl was her big sister. After inheriting her mom’s old journals, she learned the truth, and realized that her mother palmed her off on her grandparents in order to become a superhero. She didn’t take it well. She is a mutant, too, with the ability to teleport objects onto her body, and she used this to become a shoplifter. Unfortunately for her, she also inherited her mother’s notoriously low stamina, and after passing out in the middle of a spree, she got arrested. Thankfully, her family’s lawyer kept her out of juvie, but in exchange, she had to agree to a stint at the Gardens. She is ostensibly there to learn not to be a budding kleptomaniac, but what she really needs to learn is to let go of her anger.

Michael is the son of Wallow, one of Ghost Rider’s old enemies. When he was a little kid, his dad murdered his mom and tried to kill him and his sister, but was shot dead by the police. Fifteen years later, his dad’s ghost possessed him and tried to push him towards suicide. He survived, but you can imagine the kind of issues that being possessed by your dead father might incur. On top of the usual psychological issues, Michael has gained the ability to stir up fear, anxiety and depression in others. Michael symbolizes the concept of the family disease, the tendency for addictions or mental illnesses to pass down from one generation to the next.

Obviously, this is a work in progress, and I may need to adjust the lineup (I’m already a bit wobbly on Ritchie, because he appeared in comics recently, and Michael, because there’s not a lot of information about him on the Internet...)

#drew daniels #henry hellrung #terrance ward #rachel argosy #klara prast #jeanne foucault #ritchie gilmore #sharon ventura #katie sawyer #woodstock schumaker #michael pressman

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irisavivi · 3 years

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Repost @this_is_houston It took Stella 2 years to find us, and it took us 4 days to find Stella’s family 💕 Stella’s foster has adopted her, and it’s honestly a match made in Heaven. Stella was picked up by Harris County Animal Control in May. You could hardly make her out to be a dog; she had almost no fur left, she had gunky discharge in her eyes and she couldn’t even open her eyes, she wouldn’t walk or move much because her entire body hurt, she was exhausted and she had lost hope - until she met her foster mom. Here’s a tidbit of what her foster mom had to say about her after a month of fostering her… “I took Stella to see my little sister’s memorial tree for the first time. She was so respectful. She didn’t trample into the flowerbed or walk around the tree unknowingly. She just sat next to me and looked up at the branches. Soon after, she lifted her paw up onto my shoulder and kissed my face endlessly. In that moment, I knew she knew my heart. And I knew hers. She started to happily trot around, seemingly knowing it would lift my spirit. Then it happened. She went from being a dog who could barely walk 3 weeks ago to a dog who was full of LIFE with this big, bounding, beautiful run for the very first time. I was in awe. I still am. I don’t know what happens after death but I believe certain energies can be felt and live on in special ways sometimes. I always felt it when my sister was hurting or if she needed me, even if we were far apart. It might just be wishful thinking, but I like to think Becca knew I needed to help this dog. And that doing so would help me. I’m so thankful for ThisIsHouston for rescuing her and allowing me to help her along her journey. She is a remarkable soul who deserves nothing but happiness. Happy forever after, Stella. You are right where you’re supposed to be💗 #alldogslivesmatter #betheirvoice #adoptdontshop #spay and neuter #spayandneutersaveslives #houstonstrong #texasstrong #loved #rescue #rescuedogsofinstagram #rescuedismyfavoritebreed #nooneleftbehind #donate #donationsappreciated @argphotography_houston https://www.instagram.com/p/CRmqR2VJQIu/?utm_medium=tumblr

#alldogslivesmatter #betheirvoice #adoptdontshop #spay #spayandneutersaveslives #houstonstrong #texasstrong #loved #rescue #rescuedogsofinstagram #rescuedismyfavoritebreed #nooneleftbehind #donate #donationsappreciated

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wildegreenlight · 7 years

Text

Up to the Task

Ok, so this was supposed to be my third submission to @romioneflufffest but the interwebs ate it. Hope you enjoy my two favorite dorks being fluffy and adorable and clueless (but not really).

Special thanks to @callieskye for her editing skills!

Prompt: Common Room at Midnight

Description: There are some things that Ron just can’t bring to the surface.

Rating: T

Word County: 2229

Ron Weasley should have been fast asleep. It was nearly midnight, and he had experienced more than his share of excitement for one day. His body was exhausted beyond it’s fourteen years, yet his mind would not let him rest. From where he lay in his four poster, Ron could hear the familiar sounds of his dorm mates enjoying a good night’s sleep. Even Harry was snoring lightly having remained motionless since his mumbled nox more than an hour ago.

No one deserved the rest more than Harry, that was for sure. Of course he was tired; he’d all but single-handedly saved’em all during that ruddy task today! He didn’t even care about winning, he’d just wanted to save his friends.

The thought made his heart warm a little with pride for his best friend. He really was a good mate. For a moment he felt a whisper of shame for the way he reacted when Harry’s name had come out of the goblet. He should’ve known that Harry’d never intentionally seek glory. It really wasn’t his style. Even his spot on the Quidditch team had come from his standing up for Neville.

He guessed he just took it for granted; sure he grumbled and complained about it sometimes, but he really was lucky to have such a great, big family. He couldn’t imagine not having them to count on. He knew, in an abstract way, that Harry didn’t have a proper family, don’t think I’ve ever seen Dad more furious than he was at those Dursleys, but to know that he was the person that Harry would miss most…that was a little overwhelming.

It changed things a little, didn’t it? It was a lot of responsibility. Not that he hadn’t already taken that responsibility on, come to think of it. He didn’t remember making a conscious choice to do so, but he reckoned breaking him out with a flying car in second year had really sealed his fate. Ron knew, without a doubt, that Harry was more than just his friend, he was part of his family. Family meant you looked out for each other, and sure, you might want to hex them into oblivion sometimes, but you always had their back.

As he thought about his family, Ron began to wonder: if the roles had been reversed, who would he have found in that lake? He’d like to think that it would have been Harry, if nothing else, that’d be fair. A little part of his mind felt guilty that it might not be someone in his “real” family. Would he have been as frantic with worry about Ginny as Fleur had been about her little sister? And even though he still felt partially to blame for what had happened to her during her first year, he still wasn’t fully convinced that she’d be the person he missed most.

That really left Harry as the most obvious choice. They were best friends; they spent everyday together. Ron felt a thought crawling toward him, one that he’d been trying to dodge: there was someone else that he spent every day with, someone who was also his best friend. He didn’t like where this was going. Not because he couldn’t accept the fact that he’d want to save her, of course he’d save her. That had been established when he knocked out a troll, and burped slugs, and faced giant spiders, and stood up to a dangerous maniac. It made him uncomfortable because he had to accept the fact that she had been someone else’s to save.

The thought lay in his gut like a plate of Hagrid’s biscuits. It made him want to punch that Bulgarian git in the face; he might know more about bloody Quidditch but he doesn’t know a thing about Hermione! After their big row at the Yule Ball, they had come to a sort of unspoken agreement to give the entire issue a wide berth. Neither of them had spoken of it again, and until today he hadn’t even seen the two of them together. He guessed he should be thankful that he’d been unconscious; he didn’t even want to think about the nightmares he would’ve had if he’d seen that slimy wanker swimming toward her, with or without his stupid shark head! It’d been bad enough that he’d had to see him fawning all over her afterwards. At least he had Fleur’s thankfulness to distract him.

He threw his blankets back in frustration. Ugh! I’m never gonna get to sleep like this! Deciding to take a stab at finding a random chess opponent or a house elf with snacks. Ron slipped a jumper over his pyjamas and headed for the common room. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he froze: sitting on the sofa with an open book in her lap was the very person he had been trying very hard not to think about, Hermione.

For a split second he considered turning quickly and bolting up the stairs, but something in the way she was staring at the pages made him pause. It was obvious, at least to him, that she was not reading. When Hermione read she cocked her head slightly, very slightly, to the left and moved her eyes very quickly over the page, if you paid attention you could see them move over each word. Not now. Her head was not tilted in either direction and she stared down into the book with no movement at all. If she wasn’t reading, which obviously she wasn’t, what was she doing? His curiosity outweighed the possible awkwardness, so he stepped closer.

“Looking for a spell to remove the sweet smell of Giant Squid?” she startled at his words, but he was relieved to see her small smile of recognition.

“No,” she pulled a large lock of hair to her nose and inhaled, “but maybe I should, I hate to think of all the disgusting things living in that water.” They both laughed breaking the tension of the moment, and she motioned for him to sit down.

“Sure? Not bothering you am I?”

“Not at all,” she pulled her knees up, trapping the open book between her legs and her chest. “I just couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come read for a bit. How about you?”

“Same…well ‘cept for the reading part.”

He sat down on the sofa, not quite beside her, but not as far as the opposite end. Considering the thoughts that had brought him down here, he should have felt awkward, but for some strange reason he didn’t. It really was a bit baffling to him that when it was just the two of them, they seemed to get along brilliantly.

“Speaking of…whatcha reading?”

“Oh, nothing really, Professor McGonnagal recommended it, so I thought I would enjoy it, but honestly, I just cannot seem to get into it.”

Ron gave himself a mental pat on the back, he knew she hadn’t been reading! “Lemme guess…300 Simple Steps to Becoming Head Girl? No wait… Cats and the Totally Mental Witches Who Love Them?”

Hermione kicked at him, pushing his knee with her foot which caused the book to slip to the floor. They both leaned over to grab it at the same time, bumping foreheads in the process. Ron made a dramatic yelp causing her to scold, “I swear, if you make a crack about how hard my head is, I will throw you back in that lake!”

At his pantomime of innocence, they both broke out in a fresh wave of laughter. This was how it was supposed to be. Easy. No hairy Bulgarian apes causing problems. Just a couple of best friends laughing together in their pyjamas…in the common room…at midnight…all alone. Suddenly he did feel nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“We should probably get to bed,” he prayed that his voice wasn’t as shaky as it sounded in his own head.

Hermione heaved a sigh, “I know, we’ve both had long day,” he nodded in agreement, “but I can’t stop thinking about…about.”

“About what?” Way to go Weasley! This is exactly what you didn’t want to do!!

“The thing you’d miss most,” her voice came out softer than he thought he’d ever heard it, and from the look on her face it was almost like she couldn’t believe she had said it aloud.

Fuck!

“Uh…me?”

“Well…yeah…not just you…me too…I mean…in general…you know?” She looked at him so earnestly that he could not deny her.

“Yeah…I do. Actually why I couldn’t sleep,” he decided to tell the truth, well, at least something that was adjacent to the truth. “I mean…I worry about Harry…I forget sometimes that we’re the closest thing to family he’s got.”

“I know, me too. I thought it was both of us, at first, today, in Dumbledore’s office,” she looked off to the side, toward the fire, and he could see the color rise in her cheeks.

“Me too.”

“Of course, I know that was probably ridiculous.”

“No it wasn’t!” Not as bloody ridiculous as being the thing Krum would miss most when he’s only known you for a few months! “And anyway, what about Cedric and Cho? I think that got Harry a little…he didn’t think they were that serious.”

“Well her being his choice doesn’t necessarily mean that it is that serious.”

“Sounds pretty serious to me,” he recognized the dangerous path he was on, but he honestly, could not stop himself from taking the next step, “Sounds like Cedric cares about her a whole lot.”

“That may be true,” she looked up then, and he hoped to Merlin she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the sight of her expression, “but it doesn’t mean that she feels the same way, does it? I mean…well, she might have someone else that she would miss more.” She was giving him a look he recognized, the one she sometimes used when she tried to help Neville remember where he left something. A look that she had been known to give Ron when she was trying to get him to figure out a revision without her just giving him the answer.

“Never thought about it that way.” Alarms were all but sounding in his head: something horribly wonderful was rising to the surface, something that he was in no way prepared to face. Ron took the only out he could see, he reached a little blindly for his trusty humor life-preserver and prayed it would carry him to shore. “That would be a little awkward, yeah? Like…Hey, I know I’m the person you’d miss most and all, but the thing is, I’d really miss someone else more…hope you don’t mind.”

He was more than relieved to find Hermione snickering at his comment.

“What if it wasn’t even another person,” she gave him a conspiratorial grin, “I mean it did say the thing you’d miss most.”

“That’d be great: you swim down to the bottom of the lake and all you find is a soggy bacon sandwich!”

“That would be yours for sure!”

“Oi! It would not! I’d have you to know that it would be TWO soggy bacon sandwiches!”

“Of course! How could I have been so wrong?”

“Better than yours! Yours’d probably just be a copy of Hogwarts a History.”

She crossed her arms and grumbled dramatically, “It’s like you don’t know me at all!”

“Is that so? Well I know that you think that it’d be Crookshanks, but it wouldn’t.”

“Alright then, if you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me what it would be?”

Ron shook his head, a wide grin plastered over his now very sleepy face. “Nah…what would be the fun in that?”

Fighting back a yawn, Hermione gloated, “as usual, the fun would be in proving you wrong.”

“Yeah…how ‘bout we leave that for another time? I think we both need to get some sleep. No telling what Harry’ll need for us to do tomorrow. Maybe break into the Ministry? Fight a pack of giants…ya know…something easy.”

“Still better than sitting through Divination,” her deadpan sarcasm sounded so much like Ron that they were both shocked, but recovered after a beat.

Ron cleared his throat and offered his best Trelawny impression, “It is time! Time to close your mind’s eye! The time for sleep is at hand!”

Through a fit of restrained giggles, Hermione picked up her discarded book and followed Ron to the staircase.

“G’night.”

“Good night.” Before he had made it to the third step, she called after him, “Ron?”

He turned to look back at her, “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?” He really had no idea what she could be thanking him for.

“For…well, for just understanding,” she turned and dashed up the stairs before he could reply.

But, in that moment, he did understand. There were so many confusing things that he was going through: with school, with his family, with Harry, with Hermione, but he knew that if there was anyone in the world that knew what it was like, what was on his mind, it was her. He also knew, although he couldn’t quite admit it to himself yet, if the task had been his, exactly who would have been waiting for him at the bottom of that lake.

#romione fluff fest #the lost submission #ron weasley #hermione granger #r/hr #romione #4th year starting to clue in Ron is one of my favorite Rons

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