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patriotsnet · 3 years

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Why Do Republicans Lie About Everything

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/why-do-republicans-lie-about-everything/

Why Do Republicans Lie About Everything

Which Came First: Republican Hate Or Gop Misinformation

Do Honest Republicans Still Exist?

Hate is a great motivator. All political parties have used it to get out the vote. Generally, those who seek elected office shape information in a way that helps a certain voting block hate their opponent. Thats how we elect people in America. That is a sad reality we just have to accept in order to fix it. Hope doesnt fix it.

Whats unique and new about negative politics in the post-Obama era is that we have this thing called the Internet and dare I acknowledge itSocial Media. ;Social media has completely isolated the Republican Party base. The Internet and social media have created hard-edged, isolated buckets of information where facts dont matteragreement;and emotion matter. For republicans, agreement with their own bias is considered fact, whereas disagreement is a lie they literally transform reality to support their own opinion: the Post-Truth Era. In order to maintain that alternate reality, they have to hate those who dont agree, otherwise their reality bubble starts to break apart.

This is the case on both sides of the aisle, but the hardliners have taken it to a new level, which is why they seem to hate everything. Theyre even taught to hate things that help them like the ACA, unions, and public education.

Social media and 1000 cable channels dont increase the information we receive they focus the information and repeat it 1000 times more often. Anything can become the truth when its repeated enough times.

The Big Lie Is Gop Gospel

Cheney is not alone in suffering consequences for challenging Trumps allegations.

Georgia Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger, who defended the states counting process against Trumps attempts to interfere with it, was stripped of his voting power on the State Election Board as part of Georgias new voting restrictions law.

In a special House election in Texas held on in early May, the Trump-critical Republican in the race Michael Wood got 3 percent of the vote.

In January, Michigan Republicans removed Aaron van Langevelde, a GOP attorney who broke with the party to certify Bidens victory in Michigan, from his post on the states Board of State Canvassers.

At the Utah Republican Partys convention this weekend, Sen. Mitt Romney perhaps the GOPs leading Trump critic was booed and called a traitor.

At the same time, Republicans who have embraced falsehoods about the election have been elevated.

Rep. Elise Stefanik , who appears likely to replace Cheney in the No. 3 spot, backed Trumps anti-election efforts to the hilt. Most egregiously, she falsely asserted that there were 140,000 illegal votes in Georgias Fulton County alone which would amount to more than 25 percent of all the votes in the entire Democratic-leaning county. The breakout Republican stars in the House of Representatives, Reps. Marjorie Taylor Greene and Lauren Boebert , both egged on the January Stop the Steal rally that culminated in the attack on Capitol Hill.

Why Do Conservatives Soak Up Lies

The evidence that conservatives crave lies is abundant.

Conservatives loved George W. Bush’s and Dick Cheney’s lies about “Saddam’s weapons of mass destruction” — loved them so much, that the researchers who wrote “‘There Must Be a Reason’: Osama, Saddam, and Inferred Justification” surveyed 49 conservative Republicans, during October 2004, who admitted that they still believed Saddam Hussein had caused the 9/11 attacks, and these researchers found that 48 of those 49 extreme conservatives were entirely impervious to the overwhelming factual evidence that was provided to them by the presenters contradicting this false belief they held. Then, a showed that when Republicans were offered the official 2004 Duelfer report that had concluded Iraq hadn’t possessed any weapons of mass destruction for years before the United States invaded it in 2003, the percentage of Republicans who believed that Iraq did have WMD immediately prior to the invasion shot up, instead of going down . Even all of the exposés that had already been published about Bush’s faked WMD “proofs” didn’t persuade Republican voters that they’d simply been deceived by the people they trusted and supported. They didn’t resent it at all; they just asked for more, from those same discredited liars.

So: why do conservatives sop up lies, on topic after topic?

They do it because, if they didn’t, they couldn’t be themselves; they couldn’t be conservatives. Lie-lovers is whom they are. It’s their identity.

———-

Don’t Miss: Have Democrats Tried To Impeach Every Republican President

The Gop Elite Gave Us This Party

This dire outcome was not inevitable: The best evidence we have suggests that the rise of the Big Lie is the direct result of strategic choices by Republican leaders.

A new paper by Dan Hopkins, a political scientist at the University of Pennsylvania, analyzes data from a panel survey, which looks at roughly the same group of people over time, running between 2007 and 2020. The survey asked people to rate the fairness of the US electoral system on a scale of 1 to 5, and tracked the changes over time.

What they found was a striking consistency: Support for the American system is both high and reasonably stable when assessed via this measure, Hopkins writes. Though there are some fluctuations, with partisans evaluating the system as somewhat less fair when the other party is in power, generally theyre small.

Hopkinss last survey wave was in October 2020 which means the results dont reflect the false allegations lobbed in the aftermath of Bidens victory. The stability documented here was very likely shattered by Trumps post-election actions, Hopkins concludes.

Other data confirm this supposition. A report from the Voter Study Group analyzed Pew surveys, conducted after every presidential election since 2004, on whether voters thought their vote was counted fairly. You see the same general stability documented in Hopkinss paper, with a majority of voters in both parties saying they were very confident their vote was counted accurately in every year except 2020:

Republicans Have A Good Reason Not To Want To Investigate Jan 6: Theyre To Blame

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Our nations preeminent bipartisanship fetishistsJoe Manchin, Susan Collins, and Lisa Murkowskiare deeply disappointed that they cant get Republicans to back an investigation into the January 6 attack on Capitol Hill. Indeed, they seem outright baffled that their efforts at compromise have fallen short on plans for a bipartisan panel. There is no excuse for any Republican to vote against this commission since Democrats have agreed to everything they asked for, Manchin said in an angry statement on Twitter. It would be so much better if we had an independent outside commission, Collins, a moderate Republican, told reporters Thursday. Is that really what this is about, one election cycle after another? added Murkowski, blasting Mitch McConnells anticipated filibuster. Or are we going to acknowledge that as a country that is based on these principles of democracy that we hold so dear, and one of those is that we have free and fair elections.

I kind of want that to endure beyond just one election cycle, the Alaska moderate Republican told reporters.

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More Great Stories FromVanity Fair

Recommended Reading: Did Trump Really Say Republicans Are Stupid

In 2009 Republicans Predicted That The Economic Stimulus Package Would Only Make The Recession Worse And Cause More Unemployment

The results show they couldn’t have been more wrong. The American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 ended the recession after only a few months. Although 750,000 people were losing their jobs each month when Obama took office, after the Recovery Act was passed the rate of job loss immediately decreased each month and within a year the economy showed positive job growth.

Considering the severity of the 2008 economic collapse and the total opposition by Republicans to do anything at all to stimulate the economy, it is remarkable that the US economy recovered as quickly as it did.

Looking at the rate of job loss and job creation, its easy to see that the stimulus of 2009 was highly successful in stopping the job losses and turning the economy around.

Republicans Predicted That We Would Find Iraqs Weapons Of Mass Destruction Even Though Un Weapons Inspectors Said That Those Weapons Didn’t Exist

The Bush administration continued to insist that WMDs would be found, even when the CIA said some of the evidence was questionable. As we all know, the WMDs predicted by the Bush administration did not exist, and Saddam Hussein had not resumed his nuclear weapons program as they claimed. Ultimately, both President Bush and Vice President Cheney had to admit that there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.

Don’t Miss: Who Is Behind Republicans For The Rule Of Law

Republicans Said President Obama Would Raise Taxes Sky High

It never happened. Income taxes for over 95% of Americans remained the same or lower than they were before Obama was elected. The only people whose income taxes increased were those who make more than $400,000 per year, and their taxes rose only 3%. For most Americans, taxes are still lower now than they were under Reagan.

In 1993 When The Brady Law And The Assault Weapons Ban Were Passed Republicans Predicted Increasing Rates Of Crime And Murder

Republicans Are Lying To Themselves About Trump’s Toxicity

Thankfully, just the opposite happened. While the rate of violent crime had increased steadily from the 1970s into the 1990s, it suddenly began to drop after 1993 and continued to decline for more than ten years. What could have happened in 1993 to precipitate such a sudden and prolonged drop in crime? Thats the year Congress passed the Assault Weapons Ban and the Brady Law, which mandated background checks and a waiting period to buy a gun.

Despite Republican predictions to the contrary, the Brady Law and the Assault Weapons Ban were followed by the most dramatic reduction in violent crime since the FBI started keeping statistics. The graphs below, based on the actual numbers from the FBI Uniform Crime Reports website, show how the rates of murder and violent crime in the US dropped suddenly after the 1993 Brady Law and Assault Weapons Ban were passed.

These charts show the rate of murder and violent crime over 35 years based on numbers from the FBI Uniform Crime reports.

Recommended Reading: How Many Republicans Voted For Obamacare In The Senate

Here Are A Few More Things Republicans Have Been Wrong About:

Republicans said that Obamacare would have death panels to decide who would live and who would die. Wrong. No such death panels were ever proposed and nothing of the kind ever happened.

They said the 2009 laws to improve automobile fuel efficiency standards would kill the US auto industry. Wrong. The new standards were followed by a resurgence of the US auto industry enabling them to hire back tens of thousands of workers.

They said environmental protection laws requiring companies to clean up their pollution would create an undue burden and kill businesses. Nope, it never happened.

They said Ebola would spread across the country because President Obama allowed American Ebola patients to be treated in the US. The outbreak never happened. Only three people contracted Ebola in the US and all three survived.

They said President Obama would open our borders to illegal immigrants. Wow, were they wrong about that. Under Obama, we set new records for most illegal immigrants stopped at the border and sent home.

They said Obama would drive up the Federal budget deficit. That didn’t happen. Obama cut the $1.4 trillion deficit he inherited by two-thirds.

While someone could no doubt find instances where Democrats engage in over-the-top rhetoric, nothing compares to the consistently false and erroneous claims made by the GOP in recent years. When a political party has been so dismally wrong about nearly everything over the past 30 years, that party should lose all credibility.

‘nothing There’: More Republicans Are Calling Out Trump’s Election Lies

WASHINGTON The more we learn about Donald Trumps baseless, false and discredited claims about the 2020 election, the more baseless, false and discredited those claims have become.

Just consider the revelations over the past week from Republicans:

In Michigan, a GOP-led investigation by its state Senate concluded that it found no evidence of widespread or systematic fraud in Michigans prosecution of the 2020 election.

Regarding Arizona, a report co-authored by former Kentucky Secretary of State Trey Grayson criticized the so-called audit of the election results in that state, saying it does not meet the standards of a proper election recount or audit, and that its being conducted by an inexperienced, unqualified contractor.

And over the weekend, ABCs Jon Karl writing for the Atlantic had former Trump Attorney General Bill Barr debunking Trumps claims about the 2020 election results. If there was evidence of fraud, I had no motive to suppress it. But my suspicion all the way along was that there was nothing there, Barr said. It was all bullsh!#.

Predictably, Trump lashed out at those GOP findings.

Michigan State Senators Mike Shirkey and Ed McBroom are doing everything possible to stop Voter Audits in order to hide the truth about November 3rd, the former president said in a statement, which even included those state senators phone numbers.

Even Bill Barr doesnt buy them.

Read Also: Who Won The House Republicans Or Democrats

Get Ready For Another Possible Crisis Like 2020

This is not the first time that Republicans have declared a Democratic president somehow illegitimate. They impeached Bill Clinton on flimsy grounds, after previously accusing him of crimes ranging up to murder; there was a widespread campaign to label Barack Obama an unlawful foreign-born president . These campaigns were effective: A 2019 poll found that 56 percent of Republicans still believed that Obama was born in Kenya.

Nor is this the first time Republican elites have ginned up suspicion of voter fraud for political purposes. After Republicans won a series of statehouse elections in 2010, they spent the next few years falsely claiming that voter fraud was a serious threat in order to pass voter ID laws that were nakedly designed to suppress the vote among Democratic-leaning minority groups. Research has found that, even prior to Trump, this convinced Republicans that voter fraud was a real problem when its exceptionally rare.

These earlier campaigns laid the intellectual groundwork for 2020. Republicans were already primed to believe elected Democrats were somehow illegitimate and to believe in widespread fraud in the American electoral system. Trumps innovation claiming that an entire presidential election result was fraudulent was pushing on an open door.

Paying Lower Taxes Hurts Taxpayers

Less revenue means fewer handouts. Thats bad news for Democrats who lie obsessively year after year about how tax revenue never gets the job done in distressed communities because we still arent spending enough.

Why is it that even when the party is in power, when Democrats call the shots every single year like they do in Illinois, the poor stay right where they are most valuable in poverty?

Recommended Reading: How Many Democrats And Republicans Are In The House

Times Republicans Were Wrong

It’s no secret that politicians tend to use exaggerated political rhetoric to get people to vote for them. In recent decades, Republicans have repeatedly made very ominous predictions about the horrors that will result from Democratic policies while painting a rosy picture of what will result from Republican policies. Now we have the luxury of looking back over the years to examine those predictions and policies. Below, you will find twenty-one examples of times Republicans were blatantly wrong.

Most Republicans Said That President Obama Should Be Impeached Because Of The 2012 Attack On The Us Consulate In Benghazi

Their own investigations, however, proved them wrong. Every Congressional inquiry, including those by the Republican-led House Intelligence Committee, concluded that the Obama administration did nothing wrong regarding Benghazi, that there was no stand down order given, and that neither the President nor anyone in his administration lied about it. Each and every Republican investigation has reached this same conclusion, but Republicans continue to exploit this tragedy for political gain.

You May Like: What 7 Republicans Voted To Impeach

Truth Matters Which Is Why I’m Telling It

I take comfort in knowing that I am doing the moral thing by telling the truth to my constituents.;I also;happen to believe;telling the truth;about;the 2020 election;is good politically.

If Republicans;become the party of the Big;Lie if we encourage this madness much longer we;will lose credibility with;the majority of;Americans on issues where I believe we have better ideas.;We will do;lasting damage to our republic.

True Republicans would never dream of wasting taxpayer money to hire an unknown cybersecurity firm with no elections auditing experience to audit an election that has;already been audited.;This is what the Arizona Senate is doing with their Cyber Ninja audit.

True Republicans would not;stand idly by while auditors paid with taxpayer dollars;chased;insane rumors that ballots were flown in from South Korea to change the outcome of the presidential race, or;that;secret watermarks;on the ballots;revealed by UV lights;would;expose fraud;once and for all.

This is what the Arizona Senate is doing with their Cyber Ninja audit.

Lies Damned Lies And The Truth About Joe Biden

Saagar Enjeti: Media Lets Biden SHAMELESSLY LIE About Hunter Bidens Business Dealings

Joe BidenKentucky state lawmakers vote to scrap school mask mandate Arkansas governor pushes back against Biden’s vaccine mandate RNC vows to sue over Biden vaccine, testing mandate MORE. I know him, said the House Speaker authoritatively, and that was that.

Does Bidens record warrant such confidence? Not really. In fact, Biden has a long history of lying about himself, about his past and about events that never took place.

Democrats want the 2020 campaign to be a referendum on President Trump. Fine, but if this is to be a contest of characters, it is only appropriate that Joe Bidens history of fabrication and deceit often intended to bolster his intellectual credentials also be fair game.

Over the past year, Biden thundered that the Obama administration didnt lock people up in cages. He also claimed that, Immediately, the moment started, I came out against it. And I was always labeled one of the most liberal members of Congress. Politicos rating of all three assertions? False.

No one should be surprised. Lest we forget

A video is making the rounds in which Biden boasts at a 1987 rally, “I went to law school on a full academic scholarship ended up in the top half of my class.”

Biden also maintained that he “graduated with three degrees from undergraduate school” and was the outstanding student in the political science department.

That commentary holds up well, as today more than ever Biden blunders into conversational crevasses, with no way out.

Also Check: Who Created Social Security Democrats Or Republicans

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gabsrambles · 5 years

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Prompt: Alex and Lena making out in secret and things are getting heavy— hearts racing and what not... Supergirl bursts in thinking her two favorite people are in danger. Embarrassing hilarity ensues.

Lena is a mistake Alex only meant to make once.

Or you know, not make at all.

But then she made it, so then it was supposed to stay in the ‘Once Only’ column.

And Alex blames the whiskey the first time, anyway. Not at all her fault. It was purely alcohol and the fact that, well, fine, Lena is really, actually, very, very hot. Like, painfully so. Alex’s Big Gay Awakening happened and she only had eyes for Maggie but then that ended in a way that still makes her stomach twist achingly (how can you be so, so good with someone yet have the one fundamental thing that makes you incompatible? How?) and Alex started to notice other women.

And Lena is really hot.

Like, yes, the boss will see you now hot. Sam was also attractive and maybe Alex thought for a little while that was going to build into something, but Sam, all traumatised (understandably) had to get away from where everything went down.

The woman who serves Alex coffee is really cute, with dimples in her cheeks and eyes that sometimes, when Alex isn’t drowning in the self doubt she smothers with faked bravado almost every moment, she swears rake up and down her when she hands over the coffee.

Attractive women are just everywhere. They have so many qualities. Laughs, and collarbones, and legs for days. Bright eyes and curves and, well, Alex was learning she didn’t really have a type.

Women are hot.

Lena is exceptionally so.

But Alex kind of noticed it distantly. Because she’s Kara’s best friend and she doesn’t know Kara is Supergirl and Alex knows it isn’t the nicest thing, but she still doesn’t entirely trust Lena to any great capacity.

Alex is trying. She moved past pinning it on the last name that Alex knows follows Lena like a thick coating of ash she can never entirely beat out of the cloth on her skin. But then the kryptonite. And the shady comments.

And she’s so fucking intelligent.

She is, categorically, a danger.

A really hot danger.

But that was a distant acknowledgement. Until Alex went to L-Corp to question Lena about something and Lena rolled her eyes and gave her a drink and they sat while Lena didn’t even blink as Alex fired question after question about the Kryptonite protection suit and what it all meant and then two hours had passed and they’d drunk a little too much of the whiskey and had moved to the couch and she was close and Alex hadn’t been touched since Sara and had spent the next week after it wrapped in guilt and never really got to enjoy it. Lena’s knee bumped against hers and Alex didn’t pull away and then they were kissing, Lena’s fingers against her jaw and then her palm gliding along her cheek until her fingers were in Alex’s hair.

She was a great kisser.

It was kind of annoying, that she was that attractive and intelligent and really, really good with her lips.

Something that Alex found out in more detail not long after as they pressed against her throat and then her chest and then her stomach where Lena pushed up the shirt Alex was wearing. Her fingers were fumbling with Alex’s belt and then her boots and there was a minute where they were both laughing because getting undressed isn’t actually always the sexiest thing but then Lena’s lips were on her and her tongue and Alex came embarrassingly fast.

In her defence, so did Lena when Alex pushed her onto the carpet and her hand crept up that skirt that was now bunched around Lena’s waist.

But after all the breathy moans and flushed cheeks, the awkward aftermath settled over them and Alex kind of…tugged her pants back on, gathered her jacket and skedaddled.

One time.

It was supposed to stay one time.

Except that night she didn’t sleep even with the alcohol because she was staring at the roof remembering the damp feel of Lena’s breath against her ear and the desperate canting of her hips and the needy sounds that spilled out around them and instead of feeling sated Alex wanted more, legs shifting restlessly under the heat of her sheets.

But it was a mistake.

A one time mistake. Once. Uno. No more.

They are not a good match. At all. They come from polar opposites of everything and the whole, Kara’s best friend who can be a bit shady thing. And not knowing Kara is Supergirl.

And the whole, just…the whole thing.

A one time mistake.

But then they all had drinks in a bar a week later, and Kara brightened next to her and Alex followed her line of sight to see Lena walking in and she was wearing a dress that should be criminal and all she did was raise one eyebrow at Alex in greeting like nothing had happened while Alex squirmed in her chair, cheeks burning, as Lena chatted with Brainy and J’Onn and Kara as if last week she hadn’t grunted “fucking harder” in Alex’s ear before Alex had done just that and Lena had—

But no. Lena was fine.

But then Kara was pulled away for Supergirl duties with her usual lame excuse (her sister is so badly at lying sometimes Alex wonders if the entire city knows her identity and is just humouring her) and Brainy followed her out. J’Onn got a message and was gone, and it was Lena and Alex left with all the memories of what they did rising between them.

Alex, of course, fled to the bathroom to try get herself together.

Lena followed.

And then pushed her against the gross, dirty wall and kissed her and she is genuinely that good at kissing that Alex was convinced in 0.1 second that maybe two times would be okay. Lena whispered in her ear that the bar was gross and why not go back to her place.

So they did.

And technically it wasn’t really two times after that but six, but really, it was only two occasions so whatever.

It turns out that Lena was hot in a the boss will see you now way but also in, well, a lot of ways. The way she arched under Alex. The way she grinned right before she ducked her head to press her tongue against her. The way she went boneless after her third orgasm and just smiled lazily up at the ceiling, and then at Alex, eyes so damn green.

How in the morning, she made them coffee in just an over-sized hoody and her underwear, hair piled on top her head with tendrils escaping all over the place, and casually asked Alex about particle displacement in interdimensional portals and Alex’s damn heart gave a deceiving, sharp thump against her rib cage.

After the second-slash-sixth time, she didn’t even bother trying to convince herself it wasn’t going to happen again.

So now it’s been happening for a month and it’s still a mistake, probably.

Possibly.

Maybe.

Kind of.

But maybe it’s not a genuine, painful mistake, but a mistake like if you walked into the wrong class in college and sat down and figured you were there anyway so you may as well listen and it turns out it was super interesting and made you realise you shouldn’t be majoring in literature but instead biochemistry and you wouldn’t have known if not for the first mistake.

That led to something fun.

Because, and Alex has no idea how she got here of all places, Lena Luthor is fun. They argue over stupid science theories and one time she made a joke that was super complex but made Alex snort her wine, and when Lena laughs, it’s so loud and real and, almost…startled, like she still isn’t used to doing it so genuinely.

She shows up sometimes after a night Alex has been beating up bad guys and is super sweaty and instead of being grossed out her pupils blow wide and Alex ends up against the wall. And then in the shower.

Just not alone.

They drink coffee in the soft light of morning when they both avoid the fact that they have to go to work. They eat dinner sometimes in Lena’s office and share wine in a bar down the street for Alex’s apartment.

They send each other messages with emojis and Alex wonders who the hell she’s become.

They have a lot of sex.

And Alex learns she likes the way Lena thinks. She considers everything. It’s different to Alex, who can have a one track mind. Lena…she sees everything in grey.

They both avoid talking about what it is and telling people and they never talk about Kara, but it doesn’t really matter because whatever it is is fun and sexy and Alex’s heart does that hard thump more often than she wishes it would, like the great betrayer it is.

Then one night Kara’s on patrol and Alex is bored because the city is under control so she goes to L-Corp and finds Lena on the balcony with a whiskey. When Lena turns around, it’s with the skyline behind her and her face lights up, a slow smile as her gaze definitely drops down Alex’s body to meet her eyes again, that smile turning into a smirk that makes Alex’s stomach bottom out. Alex walks forward and takes the glass from Lena’s hand, their fingers over each others until Alex tugs it away and takes a slow sip, Lena’s eyes never leaving her face.

It’s been days, because they’ve been busy. They’re both always so busy.

Lena’s kiss is hungry and Alex stumbles backwards, the glass left on the railing and her hands fisting Lena’s blazer, the silk of her blouse against her knuckles. She almost falls once as they blindly make it into the office, Alex’s leather jacket on the balcony and her shirt pulled out from where it was tucked into her jeans. Lena’s hand glides over her stomach, Alex’s muscles jumping, and over her back under her shirt. Before she can fall, her ass hits Lena’s desk and Lena’s kiss doesn’t stop even as she manages to push papers to the floor that fall with a fluttering sound. The desk is cold even through her jeans but she sits on it anyway, Lena between her legs and Alex’s wrapped around her to pull her in tighter. It’s impossible to stop, and they’ve gotten so very, very good at this.

Lena’s buttons come undone slowly, their kiss slowing to match the pace and Alex can feel Lena’s heart racing against her fingers when they graze over her sternum. She pushes the shirt off her shoulders but then holds it there, trapping Lena’s arms in place and pulling her tighter against her front, the lace of her bra soft against Alex’s chest, her own shirt thrown behind them at some point. She squeezes her legs tighter, and Lena presses more firmly against her. Lena finally pulls back to gasp, her lips so red and pupils blown so wide all Alex can do is grin before pulling her back in.

There’s a thump, a sound like wind that Alex knows far too well and then an actual yelp.

They freeze, everything freezes, or Alex wishes it did, forever anyway, because she knows exactly who that was and what’s happening but for the shortest of moments Lena has pulled back and they are just staring at each other, wide-eyed, horrified, because surely Lena knows too.

“I’m sorry!”

Lena twists enough in Alex’s arms to see behind her, and Alex tilts just slightly to the right to look. Behind Lena, in the doorway, just like Alex knew she would be, is Kara.

Rather, Supergirl.

But right now one is just as bad as the other.

Her hand is literally clapped over her eyes and her face is redder than Alex has ever seen it and Lena’s shirt is still clutched in both of Alex’s hands against the back of her arms, and Alex very much does not have a shirt on and all Alex can feel is annoyed because this was going to be some very, very good desk sex.

“Sorry!” Kara says again.

Silence.

“Why are you here?” Lena asks.

She doesn’t move but really Alex can’t blame her because pulling away would mean having to awkwardly clasp her shirt closed in front of her and at least this way they’re both kind of covered.

Alex hates her sister.

But also, slowly, she’s realising this is awkward as hell.

But mostly, right now, she hates her sister because Lena was very much about to push her back on this desk and it was going to be amazing.

Kara’s hand is still slapped over her eyes and her other hand is held up like she could ward them away or something, and Alex may be about to hysterically laugh so she bites her lip but her smile escapes anyway.

“I heard—I just…” Kara sighs heavily, that hand holding off evil lowering to her side. “Can I look yet?”

“Sure,” Alex answers.

She drops her hand—as if she doesn’t have x-ray vision—and when she opens her eyes she yelps again and slaps her hand back. “You haven’t moved! You’re still…almost naked.”

Lena turns to look at Alex, raises her eyebrows and sees Alex’s grin. Her eyebrows rise higher. She pulls away with a sigh, and tugs her shirt together and Alex jumps off the desk, grabs her own off the floor and holds it against her front before sitting on the edge of the desk next to Lena, who’s arms are now crossed to hold her shirt together and is watching Kara with her head tilted to one side.

There’s a slight red mark blooming on her neck Alex doesn’t even remember making.

“You can look now.”

This time, Kara spreads two fingers and looks between them cautiously. “You couldn’t get dressed properly ?” she asks, before letting her hand fall away. Two high spots of colour are sill on her cheeks and she fiddles with her cape with one hand.

Alex still just wants to laugh.

“Well, I think we would both like to get back to what we were doing,” Lena says.

Kara’s mouth drops open and Alex chokes on her snicker.

“I—was that necessary?” Kara shoots at Lena.

Lena smirks. “Yes. Again—why are you here?”

Kara sighs. “I heard—I heard your heart beats. They, um…” She’s completely red again, just like before. She avoids all eye contact. “They were fast, both of them, in the same location. I thought you were in trouble.”

“Nope,” Alex says. And maybe she’s having too much fun with this, especially considering how worried she was about Kara knowing she was banging her best friend. But seriously, her sister looks like she’s about to melt through the floor. “Not in trouble.”

Kara’s gaze is on the ceiling. “I get that now.”

Silence.

Lena clears her throat.

Kara’s neck is also red.

Alex is plain grinning.

“So…we’re fine, Kara.” Alex’s head whips around to stare at Lena, eyes wide, mouth open. As does Kara’s. “You can go.”

“Kara?” Kara squeaks. Alex is squinting at Lena, who is staring straight at Kara unblinking. Looking like she’s enjoying every single part of this far too much. “Why, uh…why would you call me that?”

Of course she knew. Of course.

Luthor. Intelligent.

Of course Lena knew. She’s probably known for a very long time.

Alex’s grin is back.

Lena rolls her eyes. “Maybe we can get into that another time, Kara?”

Kara gives a high pitched laugh. “That’s not my—not my name.”

Alex looks to Kara. “I think it’s blown.”

Kara seems to deflate on the spot. “Oh. Um….”

“Another time?” Lena asks.

“Of-of course. You’ve got things to do.” Kara’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, one of which is my sister.”

And with that, she simply backs out the door and disappears, and Alex can practically hear her mortification.

Lena turns her head to look at her, and Alex turns hers. Slowly, like she’s not sure if Alex is going to back away, Lena leans forward and drops a kiss to Alex’s bare shoulder and Alex lets her smile soften.

When Lena pulls back, relief is in her eyes and Alex should be concerned about a lot of things.

But she’s just not.

#ramblings #alex and lena #agentcorp

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mysteli · 5 years

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Endless Summer Imperfect - Chapter 22

A/N: this chapter is a lot more chill than the last few and its more about recovery and processing. hope you enjoy!

Warning: T

Words: 9322

ES IMPERFECT TAG: @princessstellaris@mechaspirit@xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlessly-searching-for-you@brightpinkpeppercorn@aragornesprincessgeekymamma @justboredtrash@diego-vii @indiacater@countrymusicandncis-blog @zigortega4life@nekkidmolerat @ravengalaxia@ladyseaheart1668@endless-jake@theendofallsummers

Masterlist

Imperfect Masterlist

ENDLESS SUMMER AFTERMATH - ENDING 1 IMPERFECT CHAPTER 22 - LOST TIME

Jake

Hmm. Jake contemplates heavily as his cerulean gaze remains glued to the television screen, where the live news is currently playing and talking about a pretty significant situation. There’s really nothing else to do as they wait in the lobby of the motel they’d found in the most secluded part of London. In truth, they are all over the news right now and it’s vital that they stay hidden. Problem is... they’ve all been proclaimed as dead.

They all had no choice but to flee the scene when the explosion happened because as of right now, the whole world and Rourke believe that they’re dead. But no. They’re still alive and forced to be on the run. It’s nothing new for Jake and he immediately suggested that a motel would be the best idea for a place to stay, since no one ever really pays attention to rough places such as them. They walked in and asked for a room and they’ve been told to wait until their keys are ready or whatever. Bet you the locks don’t fucking work anyway.

But the goddamn news has been exploding with their death conspiracy story, with Rourke finally revealing his face and identity to the world and acting as a saviour. He did an interview with the channels and explained the situation, stating the ‘unfortunate accident’ that took place under his own watchful eye. The world pitied him and were overwhelmed by sympathy. Now Rourke is set to appear like the one who will save them all.

Clearly this was his plan all along. To vanquish Jake, Estela, Mike, Diego and Logan from the world and his plans. Question is, why them specifically and who knows what he’s gonna do with the rest of the Catalysts?

There’s also a huge story behind the mysterious bodies found of the Vaanti. But the world doesn’t know they’re called that. They’re just seem as these unknown creatures that were involved in the accident. Some people have even gone far enough to assume that they’re related to dinosaurs. What the fuck?

To top off the stress of everything, Diego hasn’t been talking much due to the fact that he just lost the love of his life. He’s been understandingly silent and he doesn’t care to listen or respond when someone attempts to cheer him up. There’s just no point right now. He has a right to feel this way.

Jake sure as hell felt the same when he lost Mike. Grief-struck and flooded with the belief that nothing will ever get better from there. His recovery took a long time to kick in but all the alcohol and drowning sure made it easier to numb and suck up the pain. But Diego isn’t the same as Jake. He’s not a coward and he’s so much stronger. Hopefully, the road of recovery will be a lot easier because he’s got people helping him move past this. Jake didn’t have that and now he does. His only wish is that he didn’t make things worse for Diego when Jake stuck a bullet in Lundgren’s head right in front of him because he’s aware how much Diego despises murder and death so his heart must be sinking in its own personal hell right now.

Right now, they’re the only ones at this damn motel which is great because no one will recognise them and they’ve trapped in this waiting room for god knows how long. Usually, you get the key and then that’s it but Jake has been overwhelmed by the sight of this fake news story that’s been plastered all over television. Rourke’s clearly playing a game and his plans are finally starting to pan out. Maybe the group has a small advantage with Rourke thinking that they’re dead when they really survived. It means he won’t bother coming after them so they can lay low for a while. They sure as hell cant stay in London however.

Jake’s eyes don’t shift from the screen and the more he sees, the more his body tenses up with uneasiness. He tightens his grip on his wife as he stiffens and she tilts her head at him with concern, following his gaze over to the television.

“Baby, you shouldn’t be watching that.” Logan urges dismissively, moving Jake’s head away from the screen by tilting his chin and forcing him to lock eyes with her.

Jake lets out a frustrated sigh and he’s clearly offended by the way Rourke used his own death to make headlines. “It’s just fucking ridiculous, darlin’. I didn’t ask for this. Rourke has crossed the line now.”

Logan raises his eyebrows at him, sympathising with her husband while also being slightly confused. “But, Jake... isn’t it kinda good that he thinks we’re dead since he won’t come after us that way?” She dares to ask and Jake’s flood with disbelief in response.

He arches his head back and releases a slow exhale out of stress. “Maybe but he didn’t have to tell the world that were dead.” Jake’s mind drifts back to his family and he hates picturing the sorrowful look on their faces when they read this story and see Jake’s death announced on television. “What about my family? Fuck my traitor of a sister but... what about my mom? What would she fucking think?” Jake ends his shaky rant and closes his eyes as his doubts and fears torture his conscience. Logan leans into his shoulder and cups his cheek reassuringly.

“Jake...”

“It’s okay, Princess. They thought I was dead before anyway. This’ll just be an confirmation.” Jake mutters, planting a kiss on his wife’s forehead and he looks her dead in her ocean eyes. “I’m just glad I’ve got you back. For good. That’s the most important thing. I ain’t ever gonna lose you again, you got that?” The seriousness of his tone is enough for Logan to nod assuringly.

“Of course, Jake. No more risk when it comes to us. I love you too much to let you go ever.” Logan speaks in a fierce tone and Jake can’t help but smirk at how sexy she’s coming off right now.

“That reminds me. I can’t remember the last time I got to touch you, darlin’. How long has it been?” Jake whispers in a husky tone, leaning in so his lips are hovering over Logan’s and she bites her lower lip as a tension gets caught between them.

“About two months.” She answers, her body reacting as Jake grazes her cheek with his fingertips but she sure as hell wants his hands in a whole lot of other places right now.

Jake is a little taken aback by how long it’s actually been. “Damn... well how come it feels like forever when I got to...” He trails off, his cerulean eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of her and only now does he realise how much desire he’s been holding in and bottling up. This seems like the perfect time to let it out.

Instinctively, he plants featherlight kisses from her collarbone all the way to her quivering lips and he intends to build the kiss up when it arrives but Logan keeps it brief, leaning away with a weak smile.

“Jake... be patient.” She whispers, brushing his hair out of his eyes and his eyes her incredulously in response.

“Seriously? You’re asking me to be patient. Who the fuck can be patient when it comes to you?” Jake challenges and he’s about to go in another kiss but Logan plants a firm finger on his lips and that stops him in his tracks.

“Well then you’re just gonna have to learn then, Aragorn.” Logan tells him, dragging her finger over his lower lip and shooting him an expectant smirk. She shoots a quick glance towards Diego, who is seated on another chair with his knees curled up and his hands clutching them desperately. It’s like he’s looking for someone to hold or his dreamful gaze tells everyone that he’s reminiscing. Probably on the memories of Vaaryn and that saddens Logan so much. She turns back, her smirk now replaced by a guilty frown and she drops her voice to an even lower whisper, one Jake can barely hear. “Besides... I don’t think our PDA is gonna help Diego feel better about losing Vaaryn so can you just... wait?”

Jake looks over to Diego, noticing how depressed the poor guy and he’s suddenly hit by guilt when he realises what’s really happened here. Logan got her soulmate back but he didnt and that make him a little envious of their reunion because he wasn’t able to get one. Releasing a heavy exhale, Jake meets Logan’s eyes once more and nods understandingly, sneaking a kiss to one of her fingers and she rolls her eyes at him in response.

Finally, the owner approaches the group and hands them three keys. One room for Logan and Jake, a room for Diego and a two bed room for Estela and Mike. There were only three available and they didn’t mind sharing so that’s what happened. Seriously how is this an approved hotel?!

The five of them gather for one more conversation before they would head off to their rooms. They each grasp their keys and a moment of silence falls over them, as if they’re taking a moment to remember Vaaryn.

Jake sucks in a sharp breath and suddenly swerves around to face Diego, tears rising in his cerulean eyes as he prepares to speak some saddening words. “Diego... I just want you to know that... I wish I couldve gotten there sooner.” He admits and Diego rubs his eyes, shaking his head at Jake and patting him on the shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s ok, Jake. Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it could have been.” Jake counters, his hands balling into fists as his frustration with himself builds like bricks in his body. “I never told you this but... Vaaryn tried to kill himself while he was locked up. I... barely stopped him but now I can’t help but think it would’ve been better if he just... did it himself. You know, have the blood on his own hands rather than leaving it all over Lundgren.” Jake confesses and Logan wraps her arms around him in a comforting manor. Tears infect Diego’s eyes again and he can’t stop a river from pouring down his face.

Upon hearing that, Diego hands his head, noticing how shame circles Jake like it’s haunting him. Diego exhales sharply and tries to act as a form of reassurance for the pilot who practically saved his life.

“Jake... you just did what you thought was right, saving Vaaryn, and I don’t think you should feel sorry about that. Either way, he’s not with us anymore.” Diego mutters under his breath and Logan rushes over to wrap him in a desperate hug, trying to comfort him the best she can.

“Diego, were all so sorry we couldn’t save him.”

“It’s alright. I don’t blame you guys.” Diego assures, burying his tearful face in Logan’s shoulder and finding condolence in his best friend. “I love you, Lo. At least I still have you.”

Logan leans away for a moment, guilt suddenly flooding her ocean eyes. “Just so you know, I wanted to save Vaaryn just as much as Jake. And I’m really sorry that...”

“Hey, dont do that.” Diego urges, interrupting her before she can start placing the blame on herself. “You shouldn’t feel sorry for caring about the love of your life. I would’ve been the same.”

Logan brings Diego in for another hug and they melt into a moment of true friendship. Once they pull away, Estela and Mike give Diego their own forms of reassurance before everyone starts discussing the plans for the day ahead.

“Alright. So we need a night to process everything that’s happened. Just get a goodnight’s sleep and we’ll all meet back in the morning.” Estela explains, her voice slightly strained due to her boggled mind at all the events that have happened. She was the only one that really had her head on straight during that whole rescue and her main concern was keeping everyone safe, which she almost did successfully. But so much happened to her there as well. Finding out her mother is alive and acting as one of Rourke’s puppets. Who knows what he wants to use her for? Probably his sickening excuse for an army.

Mike glances over to Estela, sympathising with her situation and he’s almost tempted to give her a hug or act as a form of reassurance but in the end, he convinces himself to stay back and let everything sink in. He doesn’t need to add another weight on her shoulder about the question of what they are.

“A good night’s sleep, huh? Haven’t had one of those in a long time.” Jake admits, running a hand through his greased hair.

“Well, we gotta try. This night is a chance to recover but I know we’ll never forget about what happened in that hell of a place.”

Michelle

So still. Her body is so still. Quinn looks so peaceful in her deep slumber that it would be so easy to forget that she’s experiencing a life-endangering coma right now. Still, Michelle can’t seem to get her mind past that part. She probably never will, especially not while she sits here all night staring at a barely alive Quinn, who has fallen for so much over the past few weeks.

When Michelle was experiencing her whole pregnancy situation, Quinn was there for her and now Michelle believes she must be there for her. Because now it’s Quinn going through a tough time. So it doesn’t matter how many times someone comes up to Michelle and tells her to go home and get some rest because she isn’t moving until Quinn wakes up. Her mind won’t ever be at ease until she knows that Quinn is okay. It’s just not possible.

If Michelle can even be honest with herself for one moment, she’d admit that she is getting a little bit tired but she won’t let herself fall asleep. Not now. The night is at its full glory and that’s prompting Michelle’s exhaustion to start kicking in but she fights it off as much as she can.

The bitter resentment of the disease that is trying to take Quinn’s life at this very moment is the most dominant emotion of Michelle’s right now and she can only hope and pray that Quinn finally wins the war and makes her way back to the land of the living.

All of a sudden, the door to the room staggers open and Michelle snaps her head to idnentify the newcomer into this time of grief. She recognises the figure as Sean and she’s surprised to find him back here so soon, since she told him not to hang around and get some rest but when does Sean ever listen?

There’s a clear concern in his chestnut eyes and Michelle finds herself without any words to say to him.

“Hey.” is all she manages to get out, trying to form the weakest of smiles but she can’t even do that with the way she’s feeling.

Sean approaches her with slight caution, especially as he takes her current weak state. He’s never seen Michelle like this before and she’s so wrecked for one person. It’s so clear what Michelle feels for Quinn and that only makes Sean feel like he’s standing in the way of something special when really he should encouraging her to look out for her health just as much as she looks out for Quinn.

Once he reaches Michelle, Sean seats himself on the armrest of the chair, placing his hand on her shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly. He’s trying his best to be there for her but it’s so damn hard when the news of the abortion still looms over his mind. Can’t say anyone should blame him however.

“Should I even ask if you’re ok?” Sean dares to mention, tilting his head to search her expression but he can’t see it while her head is hanging so shamefully.

A breathy sigh escapes Michelle in response and she runs a hand through her ombré hair. “I’ll be better once Quinn wakes up.” She mutters under her breath, her voice a mere whisper that Sean barely manages to hear.

At the mention of Quinn, his eyes snap over to where she lies and it’s almost painful to see her in such a sight. Sean has never really spoken to Quinn before. No one has really. She always kept to herself and never really connected with anyone, especially not the way she did with Michelle once they met. Their story has been brewing for months now and they became so close that it was set to be the most painful for Michelle when the time came for Quinn’s descent.

“...How is she?” Sean asks yet another risky question and Michelle barely tilts her head at him, her frown faltering.

“Stable. Barely though.” Michelle responds blandly, the stress practically evaporating off her and it gives Sean an uneasy feeling.

Sean notices how sleep-deprived Michelle is and his mind jumps back immediately to his comfort zone. Caring about other’s well being before anything else. “Michelle... you need sleep—“

“Quinn’s parents are supposed to show up tomorrow morning so I’m not leaving until they show up.” Michelle interrupts, determination flooding her features.

“I’m not asking you to leave.” Sean corrects, stiffening as Michelle suddenly leans against his knee and he responds safely by slinging an arm over her shoulder.

“Sleeping still separates me from Quinn. And she’s not safe.” Michelle points out and that causes Sean to furrow his brows.

Come to think of it, Michelle has never actually told Sean about what’s wrong with Quinn. This is all so sudden.

“Michelle...”

“Yes?”

“...What’s actually wrong with Quinn? Her coma seems sort of... sudden?”

Sean feels Michelle shudder at his abrupt question but she quickly composes herself, her expression falling grim once again. “She has Rotterdam’s. She’s had it all her life. I found out a couple months back and this is the moment she’s been dreading for so damn long. This is Stage 4. A coma... and she may never wake up.” Michelle explains, her tone becoming more and more weak the more she speaks of the topic and tears swell in her eyes.

Sympathising with her, Sean clutches her with comforting intentions, letting her cry into his shoulder and he tries to help her the best she can. That’s all Sean has ever wanted to do. Help people. Even if it doesn’t work out, he still tries but now he’s here and Michelle is someone he just can’t fix. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be an acceptable form of support. He’s living too closely to what’s expected of him and that’s perfection. Something he just can’t live up to.

“I’m so sorry I asked, Michelle.” Sean apologises and Michelle just shakes her head at him with a clear defiance in her hazel eyes.

“Don’t apologise. I know how much you wanna help.” Michelle acknowledges and that’s when her mind drifts back to a memory that has become so neglected by her over her last few hours. She actually is consumed by guilt that she’s forgotten about it for too long. “I’m the one who should be apologising. I aborted our baby.”

Sean tries not to let himself be corrupted by grief then because he can’t afford to match Michelle’s vulnerability right now. This is a topic he has to fight with strength and deal with it with Michelle.

“No. Please. I know I kinda scared you with the whole us not being ready thing.” Sean assures.

“That’s never an excuse to kill a living thing, Sean.” Michelle counters, a river pouring from her eyes and once again, Sean realises that he’s not making this better in any way.

Sean clears his throat and parts his lips to speak but Michelle shakes her head at him, signalling for him to let her go first, which he obliges hesitantly. Anything he says will probably make things worse anyway.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to apologise. You just have to know and remember that this isn’t your fault. It’s mine.”

“But—“

“Don’t argue with me, Sean.” Michelle says in a pleading done. Who knows if those words were meant to come out as a command but her weak, soft tone prevented that from happening. “Just accept that. Please.”

A moment of silence and contemplation takes over as Sean tries to process Michelle’s words. She’s been through so much over the last few weeks and Sean can’t even begin to compare to how much more emotionally strong she is than him. Sean is a coward, according to him. He can’t even accept that something isn’t his fault because lately it feels like everything is. All he wants is to tell Michelle she’s wrong and console her the best he can.

Alas, he doesn’t have a choice. Sean simply nods in response and releases a futile word that is accompanied by nothing but a mere whisper.

“Ok.”

Logan

Logan leads Jake into their assigned motel room by the land and opens the door with her intentions already clear in her mind. She’s never been more determined in her life to prove to Jake just how much she’s missed him. He deserves to be able to forget about everything he’s been through and just enjoy this time of peace and recovery. It may be more painful for some but Jake and Logan are finally back together and that’s something worthy of celebrating.

They’ve barely made it through the door before Jake crushes his lips against Logan’s, having not really been given the chance to fully embrace the familiarity and soft taste of her lips. The kisses are not tender and full of emotion like they were when they first reunited. No, this is pure hunger and urgency, a desperation that’s caused by their dreaded amount of time apart. It’s been too long. Way too long.

Jake slams the door shut and grips Logan by her hips, pressing her up against the door and savouring the full feeling of his lips on hers again. All his thoughts have been on her and this reunion is better than he ever could have imagined. Logan winds her arms around the back of Jake’s neck and she lets her fingers drift into his air, occasionally gripping on a few strands and stifling a groan out of him - the sound like music to her ears.

The moment seems so perfect and they’re both so ready to melt into one another again and it appears like it’s about to come true... until Jake suddenly pulls away, barely breaking physical contact as his hand mindlessly ends up fiddling with the hem of his khaki jacket that Logan still happens to be wearing. Logan notices an uneven conflict in his eyes and she cups his cheek comfortingly.

“Something wrong?” She questions, genuine concern flooding through her ocean eyes and she’s a little taken aback when Jake lets out a soft chuckle in response.

“No... everything’s fine, Princess. It’s just...” He trails off, his cerulean eyes burning into hers as he takes in her stunning features. Jake can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that she’s really here. In his arms. “...nothing it’s stupid.” He backtracks and Logan won’t let this topic go easily.

“I’m not dropping this now. Tell me what’s wrong.” Logan urges and Jake knows he has to answer when he realises how worried she’s getting.

“It’s nothing bad, darlin’. I just... can’t believe you’ve been wearing my jacket all this damn time.” Jake finally admits, hanging his head as he lets out a breathy laugh. Logan feels her expression falling a little in response as she grips the collar of the jacket and fidgets with it.

“Guess it was the only thing I really had left of you.” Logan murmurs and Jake kisses her forehead comfortingly upon hearing that. He can’t stand seeing her sad, especially with everything she’s going through. All of a sudden, a memory ignites in Logan’s mind and her hand swiftly digs into the pocket of the jacket, retrieving a familiar item, especially to Jake. “Well... also this.”

With that, she pulls out the compass, otherwise her Ember Of Hope, revealing it to Jake and he scans it intently, narrowing his eyes as if he’s strongly debating whether he recognises it or not.

“A compass? What does that have to do with me?” Jake questions and Logan is slightly taken aback by his lack of memory.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Nah. Lundgren kinda mentioned that when I remember everything, some of the memories I had when I was clueless may have gone away. Looks like this was one of them.” Jake explains, his finger grazing the compass and Logan simply nods, prepared to explain it to him.

“Well... remember everything that happened with the Ember of Hopes and all that?” Logan eases Jake into it and he nods, letting her continue. “...This is mine.”

“Seriously? And you never told me?” Jake acknowledges, furrowing his brows.

“No... I was kinda scared at the time.” Logan responds, hanging her head in a little guilt and Jake tilts her head back up by her chin, looking her dead in the eyes and planting a reassuring kiss on her lips. Feeling revived, she shakes the shame off and continues. “That’s not even the weirdest part.”

“What is it then?”

“After we came here, I thought it was all gone but... Jake... you had it with you the whole time.” Logan finally reveals and Jake’s eyes widen a little out of confusion.

“What? Since when, Princess?”

“You told me you found it on the beach one day and decided it was important enough to keep. Mainly because, in your own words, it reminded you of someone you thought you used to know.”

Jake struggles to process this. All this time there have been so many signs that him and Logan are meant to be together but what baffles him the most is how different his personality worked when he was clueless of everything. So much more careless but those little changes like finding that compass must have made his alter ego shine through.

Logan notices how quiet Jake and she waves a hand in his face, trying to bring him back to the land of the living. “Jake? You okay?”

Out of nowhere, a grateful grin breaks out on Jake’s features and his cerulean gaze lights up at the sight of his gorgeous wife. Before Logan can even process what’s happening, Jake sweeps her off her feet and kisses her fiercely, a determination flooding through him like never before. He steadies her by resting his hands on her thighs. She responds by parting her lips a little and wrapping her legs around his waist, as Jake begins leading her away from the door and towards the bed... if he can find it.

Jake suddenly leans away, smirking at Logan as his hands hook onto the khaki jacket. “Sorry, Lo. I know you really, really... really love this jacket... but it’s gotta go if I’m gonna fuck you right.” He teases, knocking their foreheads together and Logan just forms her own smirk in response.

“Can’t exactly argue with that then can I?” She whispers, noticing his cockiness and challenging him. Jake shrugs the jacket off her shoulders and quickly connects their lips again as they swiftly fall back into their desperate frenzy of passion.

This is just as careless and desperate as their first time. When their lives were at risk and death was an almost certainty. When they wanted nothing more than to be with each other and use their last night wisely. They were new to each other but they felt so familiar at the same time, probably because they’d done it 2139 timelines before as well. But still, they were in need of each other and they couldn’t have imagined being with anyone else in that moment. It was just about them. And now this is just about them too.

Logan lets her hands drift all around the upper half of Jake’s body, from the back of his neck to the end of his arms. Then, she roams her palms all the way up his chest but she doesn’t exactly make it to the top because of Jake’s sudden wince at her more firm impact.

In fact, he lets out an agonised groan. “Agh, fuck!” He curses under his breath and almost drops Logan. Instinctively, she hops off him in order to give him space and he involuntarily collapses to his knees.

Now seated on the floor, Jake runs a hand through his hair as an attempt to soothe himself. It sure as hell doesn’t work as there is a never ending feeling of seeming like he’s on fire and his right peck is on fucking fire right now. Logan sinks to her knees and swiftly rushes to his side, cupping Jake’s cheek with desperation as she searches his dazed gaze for a sign that he’s okay.

“Jake... what’s wrong?” She dares to ask, starting to fear the worst.

“Princess, it’s okay. I’m just... bruised.” Jake assures, preparing to stand up but his wound prevents him from getting back up. “Shit!”

“Bruised, my ass. You’re hurt, Jake.” Logan corrects, lifting up his shirt to examine his injury and her ocean eyes widen at what she finds.

“Seriously? You’re gonna go all doctor on me now?”

Logan brushes off his stupid comment as she’s too damn curious about how Jake managed to get such a wound. “Jake... that’s a burn.”

Jake finally surrenders, his shoulders slumping back in defeat. “Ok... maybe Lundgren got a bit excited with the taser.”

“Oh my god! How is this only hurting you really bad now?” Logan wonders, her finger grazing the outline of the wound and Jake winces at her wound.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s only starting to kick in.” Jake shakes his head and an unexpected chuckle escapes him.

“Jake, this doesn’t really seem like a laughing matter.” Logan points out and that only makes Jake laugh even more.

“The pain just had to come around at the wrong time though, didn’t it?” Jake states, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes at the world. Logan immediately catches on to what he’s saying and can’t hold back the smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“...I don’t think a shower would be that bad.” Logan mutters under her breath and Jake narrows his cerulean eyes at her, smirking curiously.

“You kidding, darlin? Water will make this sting like hell.” Jake points out and Logan realises that only after he mentions it. With that, she nods understandingly and runs a hand through her platinum hair. It’s Jake’s next words that surprise her the most. He leans in abruptly so their lips are almost touching. “But I’m sure it will be so fucking worth it.” He adds in a low husky whisper, causing Logan to bite her lower lip in response.

“You sure? It’s gonna hurt.”

“Eh, I’ll suck it up. Done it all my life.” Jake counters, folding his arms as the pain finally dies down and he can get it his feet. A smile crosses his features when he completes the action successfully. He offers a hand to Logan and she takes it willingly, rising to her feet. Their faces remain inches apart and that’s when Logan takes a chance to inhale his scent.

As expected, it’s pure crap.

“You really need a shower anyway.” Logan acknowledges and she expects Jake to be a little offended but he simply throws his head back and laughs.

“Well you saved my life, now you can save my hygiene.” Jake points out, grabbing Logan by the hand and leading her into the motel bathroom.

Mike

A tension creeps into the air, infecting the atmosphere as Mike watches Estela intently since she’s been pacing around the room out of stress for about fifteen minutes. He can’t say he really blames her. Her thoughts must be souring with the amount of lies that have been told to her and only recently has she maintained her memories again so there must be around a million things haunting and taunting her right now.

Everything in that hell hole of a place happened so fast and Estela clearly got the worst mental impact, considering all the things she found out. The worst thing probably being the sight of her mother, shackled in a cage like an animal. Thats how she described it to Mike anyway. It’s clear her mother has been manipulated in some way and is being moulded to be one of Rourke’s puppets. It’s clear the bastard is doing this for revenge as well, trying to prove to her mother that you should never double cross him. He’s torturing her. Manipulating her. Shaping her into a monster and that has to be most heartbreaking thing about this.

It’s Estela’s father and her mother. In this particular situation, it’s so easy for her to choose a side since it’s undeniably obvious who the real monster is. Olivia is a victim, lost to Rourke and she spent her whole life trying to get away from him with no luck. Now she’s the one paying the price and who knows what he’s planning on prepping her for? What would he make her do?

It doesn’t make much sense since Rourke killed all the Vaanti in the explosion and he stranded them outside for the world see and exaggerate into their worst nightmares. Everything about his plan was private but now it seems like he’s revealing it all to the world. He wants their approval. He wants their worship. He wants their power and he wants to manipulate the world so they fall on their knees at the sight of him.

What the hell has this world come to? It’s truly sickening.

Mike never dares tear his eyes away from Estela, who still hasn’t stopped pacing as stress runs throughout her body. Her veins are popping with frustration and her entire demeanour is revealing her greatest weaknesses. She’s barely even paid attention to Mike since they got in here.

Sure, things are guaranteed to be awkward between them since they haven’t even dared to discuss the current state of their relationship status. They never really ended things on a breakup. It was more of thinking one of them was dead and thinking the other one had eternal amnesia.

Mike remembers playing their story all to well.

When he was brought back by Jake and the others, finally regaining his conscience, he grew a respectful bond with the fierce warrior of them all, Estela. She was always a stubborn one, protective of the others but always cautious about who she trusted. At first, Estela was extremely wary of Mike, no matter how much Jake tried to talk him up. She was all business and did her best to avoid him.

Then things kinda escalated when Mike found Estela sitting alone on the Dorado one night. They developed a relationship of sorts but never really confirmed it. They kept it a secret from everybody else, since they couldn’t afford to face the music. It was always a lot to think of and digest. So they laid low and Mike has to admit, it was one of the best times of his life. He truly loved Estela and he didn’t admit it to her until the last second before he sacrificed himself, watching her eyes flood with an emotion he’d never seen on her. Grief. Sadness. A yearn to mourn.

He told her he loved her… but he never let her say it back.

Now… he’s found Estela again and she appears the same, just as confident, sexy, fierce, cold towards all the wrong people, tough, able and always ready for a damn fight. She hasn’t changed.

But it’s clear she may not want to continue what they and Mike has to be okay with that. She’s going through so much right now and it’s already killing him to see her so broken. He’s just so good at hiding his worries. He wants to comfort her. He really does but he fears she may push him away and shut him out. Estela is complex soul with so many sides to her and Mike can’t say he doesn’t love her because he really does. He just wants to her to have life back and with everything that’s happening, that may not happen any time soon.

Finally, Mike breaks out of his trance and decides to say a few words to Estela or at least try and get talking to her again because they’ve been so silent for so long and have even dared to speak of their current situation.

“I’m sorry.” Mike mutters under his breath but Estela definitely heard them thanks to the deafening silence. She stiffens when she hears him speak to her properly for the first time.

Estela folds her arms as idly as possible and leans against the wall, finally pausing her pacing. It’s painfully obvious that she’s trying to appear as calm and collective as she can. She hates when people overly worry about her. “You don’t have to apologise. Nothing that happened today was your fault.” Estela assures, clicking her tongue and processing his apology.

“I’m not talking about today.” Mike abruptly corrects, a meaningful look hinted in his chestnut eyes.

Estela furrows her brows, bewildered. “What do you mean then?”

“I’m sorry that I... left you the way I did.” Mike admits, reminiscing back to the day he sacrificed himself for the greater good and Estela’s eyes widen in complete disbelief as a reaction.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Estela reacts, slightly taken aback. “You’re really apologising for saving us. Killing Lundgren.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly stay dead, did he?” Mike counters, shaking his head as he seats himself on the edge of his own bed.

“Yeah? Well neither did you.” Estela bites back, running her hands through her brunette hair and sighing intensely. Clearly, she’s trying to assure Mike that she’s okay with the fact that he left the way he did but there must be a feeling deep down inside of her that’s taunting her about some sort of disapproval. After a deadened moment of silence, Estela exhales sharply and clears her throat. “...Look, you did what you had to do to help Jake... Lundgren was so close to killing him.”

Mike raises his eyebrows at Estela’s assumption that his sacrifice was only for Jake. “It wasn’t just for Jake, Estela.”

“Oh yeah, sure it was for Logan too. She was about to get killed as well.” Estela’s guesses once more and Mike shakes his head in denial, only confusing Estela now until she finally catches on and an irritated huff escapes her. “No! Please tell me you didn’t do that for me!”

Mike silences himself, daggers made of guilt stabbing his heart as he takes in the violent tone in which Estela speaks. Her strong gaze burns into his and she’s almost pleading with him to tell her that this wasn’t because of her.

However, his silence is all the answer Estela needs. “Mike... I’m so sick of people dying because they wanted to protect me or keep me safe. I’ve lost too many people because of the claim that I’m in danger.” Tears swell in Estela’s deep brown eyes and she can’t seem to use the skill she’s perfected her entire life... hiding her grief. “I lost my mom because she wanted to keep me safe from my father. Now look where she is, a chamber of torture becoming one of Rourke’s petty little minions. I lost my Tio because some stupid motherfucking astronaut bitch wanted to protect me from the world. And now...” Estela trails off, her desperate eyes searching Mike’s eyes frantically and she almost can’t bring herself to say the words. “...I’ve lost you.”

“But you haven’t lost me.” Mike corrects, rising from the edge of the bed and approaching Estela, remaining at a fair distance so she still has space. “I’m right here.”

“Are you though? You don’t seem like the same man i knew on the island.” Estela points out, waving her hand up and down in front of Mike and he furrows his brows at that.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re just... different.” Estela mutters under her breath, running a hand through her dark hair again as tears continue to pool from her eyes. “I just don’t feel the same way around you anymore. I would’ve thought that if you ever did come back, I’d care about you the same way I did before but... no. Maybe all the feelings I had before died with the man I used to know.” Mike is unsurprisingly confused at her words. Shes speaking so meaningfully, which is something Estela has never been able to do. How much has this timeline really changed her? “We’re all different people now, thanks to Rourke’s mistake. The momentary amnesia must have affected us more than we thought, especially for you since you died and came back to life. Everything about you has changed for some reason or maybe I’ve just changed. Either way... I know... I don’t... love you anymore.”

Hearing Estela finally admit that she loved Mike is like music to his ears. But he can’t really appreciate her saying it because she’s using it in a context to tell him that he’s practically nothing to her. Like there’s no more romance to pick back up, thanks to Rourke’d experiment. Its truly saddening to Mike to hear Estela deny any chance that they can work through this.

“But I still love you. Can’t we at least try—“

“Maybe there are certain sides of love that managed to get through. Like Jake and Logan. But then maybe there are feelings that changed with the person. Like Diego’s tragic fate. All I know is that... I can’t force myself to fall in love with you again because I just know I’ll end up being the one who gets hurt again. And I’ve been through too much already, Mike. I’m sorry.”

With that, Estela disappears into the bathroom, leaving Mike loveless and empty. What the hell is she talking about? Still, Mike has no excuse to argue with her. She has these insane theories about what’s happened painted in her brain and he won’t be able to change her mind on it. But no matter what, Mike knows he’s never gonna stop loving her. And maybe she’ll come through eventually.

Jake

Jake still can’t fucking believe it. His Princess is truly back in his life. For good. Hopefully for good anyway but Jake isn’t gonna dare allow his thoughts to drift into dark places tonight. No. Tonight is about him and Logan and proving to her just how much he loves her, which he has done successfully, judging by the satisfaction painted onto her expression as they fall back onto the motel bed.

It’s crazy to think that sex with Logan is just as memorable as it was the first time. When they wanted nothing more than to be with each other in that moment and now here they are, what seems like forever later, still feeling like the fireworks are a brand new feeling. They’re truly soulmates and no one can even dare deny it anymore. It’s not a suspicion or a theory. It’s a fact. They’re meant for each other. End of story.

Now they just want a complete night of peace, a chance to show each other just how much they’ve missed the other and they’ve been doing well with it so far. After an undeniably satisfying shower, Jake actually felt like a brand new man, feeling as though he’d been cleaned of all the trauma he went through when he was trapped in the clutches of Rourke and now he feels... free, almost. The happiest he’s been in a long time. Even though there’s still so much depressing shit going on at the moment, Jake still needs to appreciate that his soulmate is back in his life. Now he plans to never lose her again.

Logan slowly snuggles up to Jake, resting her head on his chest and tilting her head up to admire his dazed expression. She can tell he’s exhausted because who knows when the last time was when he had a good sleep? His eyes are barely half open and she smiles at the pleasant sight of him. She missed these simple moments. The aftermath of a passionate night together and the sweet minutes of just talking and reminiscing. These are the times Logan truly cherishes and she would never take them for granted.

Noticing how her ocean eyes are so bright and full of pure happiness, Jake momentarily shoves his exhaustion to the side and turns his attention her, eyeing her with curiosity.

“What are you looking at, Princess?” Jake questions, not able to hide wide grin that crosses his lips.

“It’s just like how I remembered with you.” Logan admits, grazing Jake’s cheek with her fingertips and he flinches a little at her featherlight touch.

“Heh, glad I still got it.” Jake jokes, planting a kiss on her forehead and nuzzling her hair for an extra second. “Seriously though, I’m so glad I’ve got you back. I missed you so goddamn much.”

“I missed you too. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t find you again.” Logan whispers and Jake can sense the pain in her tone. She must have gone through endless emotional trauma... all over him? Jake can’t even try and believe that. With reassuring intentions, Jake brings their lips together as he tries to soothe her slowly growing sadness.

“I’m sure... you would have survived, darlin’.” Jake points out with a tinge of regret in his tone.

“Maybe... but I still would have been miserable.” Logan murmurs and she can sense that topic is really bugging Jake, as his mind starts to ache with doubts and wonders that hadnt really bothered him until now. She reaches out to him and intwines their fingers, while using her other hand to brush the stray strands out of his face. “Jake.. what’s wrong?”

“It’s just... what if saving me was a mistake?” He suddenly pipes up and Logan’s sapphire eyes widen with disbelief.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, darlin’. I know that people think we’re dead now but... now I know I’ll never be able to give you the life that you fucking deserve and it’s killing me.” Jake confesses, pouring out all of his doubts and regrets into this one moment.

“How do you know, Jake? Maybe this just gives us another chance.”

“Lo, there’s a clear fucking reason. Do you think I can ever go back to the States after this? I was barely safe when they hadn’t caught me.” Jake snaps, his frustration eating into him and he can’t push it away like he usually does.

“But Jake...”

“Look, Princess... I know how much you wanna keep us together and I wanna do that too but... I also wanna make sure I’m a husband to you, not a burden.” Jake’s honesty is so real, as well as his concern but he doesn’t seem to realise that Logan doesn’t need any protection. She only needs him.

“Jake... you could never be a burden. And I’ve lost you too many times to wanna let you go again.” Logan assures and Jake seems a little more convinced as she stares him dead in the eyes, a solemness he’s never seen in her before. “This is it, okay? You and me. Forever. To the stars and back, right?”

Finally, the hint of a smile creeps up at the corner of Jake’s lips and he lets out a soft exhale in response to her words. “Right.” Jake eventually relents, surrendering to his love and he slowly brings their lips together for a tender kiss that lingers longer than it should. When they pull away, he knocks their forehead together and takes a moment to admire the love of his life. “I fucking love you, darlin’.”

He truly can’t believe that she chose someone like him to spend the rest of her life with.

“I love you too and we’re gonna save all our friends from this goddamn world that Rourke created. But you know what we have to do in order to achieve that, right?”

Jake furrows his brows, suddenly confused. “What?”

“...Were going back to the States.”

Michelle

The next morning finally dawns onto the world and the light exploding from the window alarms Michelle to the fact that the day has finally arrived, leaving her completely aware that she will have to leave Quinn today and she sure as hell is hesitant to do that. Sure, Quinn’s parents will be here to comfort her and Michelle knows that they won’t want her hanging over their shoulder asking constant questions about Quinn’s current state.

Michelle will have no choice. She’s going to have to leave and her heart is begging her not to do it but her body is desperately reeling with exhaustion, urging her to fall into her own deep slumber because she’s neglected sleep for too long. But she still doesn’t wanna go. She wants to stay here and be there for Quinn. But her family won’t want her to always be there.

A nurse has popped in a few times throughout the night to check on Quinn, measuring her blood pressure and temperature every few hours. Nothing has changed. Her state has been the same since she first collapsed and who knows if she’ll ever improve or worse...

Michelle quickly shoves away the thought and releases a low exhale. She glances at the clock nearby. Almost 9 O’clock. The nurse alerted Michelle that Quinn’s parents are set to arrive around this time and she wishes to offer her condolences before she’s forced to leave. With that, Michelle finally rises from her chair and wanders over to Quinn, feeling the urge to gain one more mental image of her before she leaves for a while.

Quinn looks so peaceful and maybe this is the sleep she’s always dreamed of but never received because the burden of her fate was always haunting and taunting her. Too bad the circumstances are so grim or Michelle might actually be able to admire the woman she’s slowly falling for.

“I’ll see you soon, Quinn. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. And when I see you Lo, I’ll tell her about what you said. I don’t know what it means but... if you said it, then I’ll do it because...”

Before Michelle can get out her last words, she ends up trailing off as she spots a slow action performed by Quinn and her hazel eyes widen at the revelation. A simple stir of the hand but so damn important. It’s a sign of life. A reflex, if you will and it proves that Quinn still carries her life within her. The first smile breaks out on Michelle’s features and she can’t help but be excited that Quinn is finally revealing the fact that she’s alive.

“Oh my god... Quinn! You’re alive! Wait... can you hear me? If so, I want you to know...”

Then suddenly, Quinn’s body starts to shake slightly and her eyes start to quiver as they’re about to open. But the way this awakening is happening is rather unusual. It’s not the sudden eyes opening that’s so sweet like you see in the movies. No, this is almost... terrifying. Quinn looks like she’s about to explode and her body shivers even more violently as the moments pass.

Michelle’s eyes widen at the current situation and she can’t believe what she’s seeing. One moment it seems like Quinn is alive and now it almost seems like she’s possessed in some way. This has to be some kind of sick game that Michelle’s mind has come up with. A method of manipulation. A horrible hallucination.

But the more Michelle blinks and realises it’s still there... the more real it seems.

“Quinn... are you ok—“

All of a sudden, Quinn’s once dead eyes snap open but the usual sky blue ocean colour doesn’t light up the room so positively like it typically would. No... a neon, lime green light bursts out of both eyes. An emerald fire of torture hiding the hope in her corneas and Michelle is amazed by what she’s seeing.

What the fuck kind of sorcery is this? Quinn looks like she’s been possessed or cursed but what the hell is going on? This has to be a nightmare. How can this be real?

Now Michelle is really starting to feel her anxiety cracking through and she runs her hands through her blond hair. That’s when she starts to hear it. Quinn is screaming through an echoey voice, like a cry for help. Michelle can’t quite make out what she’s saying but she still manages to catch a few breathy words.

“...Kill... kill... kill...”

She’s just speaking kill, all over again. But then another word makes its way again, confusing Michelle even more.

“...Reborn... Reborn... Reborn...”

Now this is truly frightening. Michelle should probably go get help and find someone suitable to take care of this but she can’t fucking bring herself to move. She’s completely paralysed but she knows she has to help Quinn, if anything.

With that, Michelle paces over to Quinn and attempts to grasp her in order to prevent her from shaking as she tries to knock some sense into her. Just as their hands graze... Michelle becomes the same thing. Her eyes a flash a hot pink and she screams out in agony as she tries to maintain Quinn. Michelle feels as though a rose-coloured fire is tearing up her heart and the pain is almost unbearable as she tries to fight through it and take some of Quinn’s pain too.

What the hell is even happening to her? This can’t be real. This has to be a nightmare.

Out of the blue, as the pain starts becoming even more severe, Michelle’s mind is suddenly flooded with memories. Her memories just flow through her mind, rushing through her body continuously and giving her a chance to feel something familiar. Something she hasn’t felt in a long time and it almost feels like she’s right back where she started. Her head starts to ache from the amount of memories but she also feels an endless amount of relief.

Finally, she remembers everything. Getting trapped on the island. Almost killing a colossal crab. Attacking a sea monster. Meeting a pirate. Absolutely everything. She remembers it all. Everything and everyone.

Sean, Quinn, Raj, Grace, Aleister, Craig, Zahra, Jake, Estela, Diego and... Logan.

Michelle finally is rid of her amnesia but it sure took a hell of a lot of pain to do it. She feels just as possessed as Quinn but only in exterior not interior.

Then suddenly, the lights burn out, the fire dies, the voices fade, the shaking pauses and everything returns to the way it was, including Quinn. Still in her deep slumber and it’s like her sudden awakening never happened.

There’s just one difference, however... Michelle now has her memories back.

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dratin-dragonadetinta96 · 6 years

Text

Routine.

Ship: Barnaby x ben.

Words: 1500

Notes: Hi, people. I decided to use two theory: “Ben is the son of Death Eater” and “He is a traitor” in this fanfic. Really I dont believe these theories, but I wanted angst so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

Thanks to @hey-jacob-its-me, because her barnaben fanart makes me write. This is for you, girl! Enjoy it! :)

He discovers you. You discuss. You spell the memory charm. He hit the ground. You hide him until he wakes up. You cry. You dry your tears. He is awake. You tell him that he fell asleep. He believes you.

Repeat.

That had been your life for the last few months. Being discovered by Barnaby again and again, your true colors being shown: Being a shitty traitor that is selling your friends to someone who would not hesitate to kill them to achieve their own goals, anything to keep your secrets from getting out. .

Well, it is not strange. Betraying runs in your family.

You are not a muggle-born, though you wish it. You are the son of some small-time Death Eaters who had sold their comrades to avoid prison. Fortunately, your parents had been smart enough to flee to the muggle world, that world they despised but it had become their only way out. Your parents had always been hypocrites.

You had changed your address, your habits and even your surnames. You could not remember the rest of your family, except your parents. When you fled, your parents did not tell anyone, not even your own grandparents, what you were going to got to avoid that somebody could track you.

Your childhood was full of horror stories about what would happen if another Death Eaters found you. You had had to hide your magic since you are a child, afraid of somebody that could discover you. Your first fears were about how your parents' companions were going to torture and murder you into the night, only a bloody body could be found.

No wonder you are terrified of everything.

Besides being terrified all the time, you grew up alone, without friends. You could not meet other children either, as muggle are not good enough for their son. It’s curious that your parents still considered the muggle are inferior despite taking advantage of their world and living among them, their hatred and resentment was greater than ever before. Their words about “They are different”, “They cant understand you” or “You could say something that raise suspicion” were poor excuses to hide their intolerance.

Alone and scared. This was your childhood.

Hogwarts was a liberation, despite you are still surrounded by a web of lies.

You find great friendship, people who loved you despite your flaws. You discovered that the wizarding world did not hate Muggles as much as your parents said, because your friends, who did not hesitate to extend a hand, had never minded that you were "muggle-born".

However, this lie (and the betrayal caused by it) is destroying you slowly, feeling that you can not do anything to avoid it, afraid that your friend are going to discover the truth someday and the consequences that would ensue. Not only the rejection of your friends, but the danger that will befall you and your parents when your true identity will come to light.

But you deserve this.

Barnaby moves his head that is on your lap, soon he will wake up. You sigh slowly, trying to calm down to avoid raising the suspect that Rowan has. Its funny how close she are to the truth, despite the trust that MC has for you. The truth will destroy their hearts, especially Barnaby’s and you have had to find out this the hardest possible way, again and again. Whenever he had discovered your action, he tried to fix this in every way, never surrendering. Despite he could not remember another time that this had happened, his efforts to convince you that it existed another way out have increased, as if his instinct could remember it and tell him that he should not give up, he only had to try harder.

You lean on the tree, while you are running your fingers through his sloppy hair absentmindedly. If anyone saw you, They would think that you are on a date. But you can not, not while you are a traitor. Barnaby deserves better. If your break his heart now (when you are only a friend), he will not hurt so much, maybe if you are fortunate enough, he and the rest of your friends will tolerate your presence over time. But if are you a couple? No, there will be no redemption for you (really you should stop acting like if the chance of being forgiven existed, even though you were only friends. But this little possibility let you continue).

However, you have made your choices. You let R manipulate you and force you to fight agaisnt your friends. This is the lonely route that you have decided to follow and will have to continue until the final consequences.

(But, although you deserve it, it hurts so much)

Barnaby moves again. Your personal bubble where the time remains frozen is about to crumble like a chess piece.

You breathe fondly, looking at the sunset, and after sighing one last time, your mask is fixed in its original place.

Barnaby sits up slowly, passing a hand through his hair, hair that you stroked before. He closes his eyelids, achy for the migraine that ravaged him. You look down, feeling how the guilt grows inside you, despite knowing the after-effects of this charm. This was the only solution that you could think as the same time as you follow the R’s orders. R had been clear: This or the death.

His constant questions about what happened force you to focus. Your answers are vague, full of lies and poor excuses. He should suspect you, it has been too many times that he fell asleep or unconscious in your presence. Anyone distrusts you. And, however, he still looks at you reliably.

(Maybe you constantly use that spell to keep the trust and the love in his eyes. You hate seeing disappointment or sadness in them.)

Your eyes meet again. Your bodies are still touching. Barnaby doubts, scared of how you could react, though your true fears do not look like those he imagines. He frowns, taking a decision. His face is fierce, as if he had fought, not against someone in a duel, but against the fears inside him. He take your hand (the same hand that has cast so many spells on him) quickly, but gently, before he can repent for his audacity, though you doubt that he regrets, because he is Barnaby.

You want... You would want... You can not. You force yourself to remember all the reasons that you constantly recite as if it were a sacred chant. Nobody deserve a relationship based on lies, especially not him. You are only one responsible for your unhappiness, and now you do not have the right to wish “happy ending”. Your rejection will hurt him, but you hope, even if you do not want, he may meet a better person, someone that does not betray him.

The moment is broken, separating you without mercy. You look away, avoiding his confused and disconsolate gaze.

He open his mouth, He close it. He opens it and closes it again. The words do not come out, because there is nothing to talk about. You can not talk about what does not exist

(Or perhaps if you can it? But you're a coward. Coward for the truth and coward for the lie. Coward before the past and coward before the future. Coward for the good and coward for the bad. Coward before love and coward before hatred. Coward, after all.)

You stand up, not looking at his eyes yet, walking to the castle. A leaf is still in his hair, but you do not dare to tell him it. The more time you cast that spell on him, the less you feel that you have right to be his friend, even if it is for something as trivial as a tangled sheet.

Despite your refusal to look at him, Barnaby does not stop looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You do not know what he is looking for in you, although you don’t doubt he will get tired of dissembling soon and will ask “the question”. That question that, after each one of your memory charms, he always asks you as if you were the enchanted person, instead of him.

Your suspicions do not disappoint you, you have not taken five steps before those warm words come out of your mouth.

"Are you okay?"

And like every time, it baffles you. The truth is that you are not well, you have not been well for a long time. You hate yourself, you hate what you are becoming, you hate what you are doing to the only people who have accepted you and you hate that you are such coward that you do not do something to remedy this.

You think about telling the whole truth, about asking for help, about begging for a second chance, about going back to belonging to your gang without lies.

But in the end you're the same coward who does not dare to go off script.

You stop. You look at him. You give him a big fake smile. You lie. He believes you. You continue walking.

Repeat.

Its possible that it has some mistake as it was written quickly and without beta (because I wanted to upload it and I couldnt wait). So, if anyone see some mistake, you can say me.

#hogwarts mystery #barnaben #barnaby lee x ben cooper #hphm #Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery #Dratin fanfic #barnaby lee #ben cooper

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cavehags · 6 years

Note

heres something take your time with! how would you have written the gasleak year instead, episode by episode? (and you cant say you wouldnt change anything about basic human anatomy bc the annie subplot was terrible)

OKAY here it is. this isn’t necessarily how i would rewrite things because i’m not the best at actually coming up with stories, but more like if the scripts came across my desk for editing these would be my main suggestions. also i rewatched some of the episodes to write these (mainly the ones with longer paragraphs) but then i got burned out and started reading plot summaries from wikipedia, so that’s why i only have a couple complaints for some episodes

4x01 history 101: don’t try to be cute with the laugh track, don’t write abed’s lines by cutting and pasting lines from big bang theory scripts, don’t write craig in the MOST homophobic way possible, don’t pretend that abed is the more codependent one in the trobed friendship while troy is the one who wants space (bitch WHERE!!!!!!!!), cut and erase from history the idea that annie would ever in a million years want to slack off academically because it would help her bond with jeff (BITCH WHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), don’t leave it up to abed to suggest to annie that she start a new major when he had no involvement in her story this week - let shirley or annie be the one to get there YOU IDIOTS, stop directing alison like she’s supposed to be playing a literal child, also cut the stinger because it’s trying so hard to be offensive that i can’t understand it?, whoops guess that’s the whole episode, they have to start over

4x02 paranormal parentage: troy and annie are not children and they know… what… sex… is? please stop trying to sell me on the idea that shirley knows more about sex than them. everything happening with troy/britta SHOULD be a nice story about how troy is gay but actually the writers’ lack of awareness about troy being gay and their insistence that troy’s sense of wonder makes him an idiot just makes all the britta stuff super sexist. other stuff: jeff and annie doing a couples costume is FAKE. also please consider that if troy/britta has to progress mostly offscreen maybe it’s because there’s no way to write it in a believable way that anyone would want to see. all that said, abed has one good line in this one though (“you get two minutes” when watching jeff and britta - same babe)

4x03 conventions of space and time: i can’t redeem this one. i also can’t even make myself watch it. delete this entire episode because it’s SPECTACULARLY sexist and HORRIFYINGLY homophobic and TREMENDOUSLY disrespectful to annie, abed, troy, britta and shirley. find another opportunity to show britta climbing around in a bra (OR DON’T!!!!!!!!!!!)

4x04 alternative history of the german invasion: yeah… was nick kroll too busy Being Jewish to engage with this? the central metaphor of this one could have used a second look.

4x05 cooperative escapism in familial relations: you may notice that in this post i don’t go to a lot of trouble to request that jeff and britta storylines be removed because i’m less invested in them being written well than i am in the other characters, but this episode is the exception because their story fucking SUCKS. delete it

4x06 advanced documentary filmmaking: this episode is boring and not my genre cup of tea, but partner and hoolihan are tremendous gay/lesbian solidarity. that said, i do not feel they justify how boring it was

4x07 economics of marine biology: abed, annie and troy are all badly written in this one, troy in part because i simply cannot buy that he would ever want to return to a gym class or willingly invest himself in cultivating an identity as someone who is doing Sports Things ever again. save him. also, abed’s thing with the frat is very s1 and sheldon-y of him and i loathe it

4x08 herstory of dance: abed’s plot sucks. he’s not intentionally mean like this! please!!!

4x09 intro to felt surrogacy: somehow an episode with so little character content managed to be incredibly homophobic - annie and britta cuddling together while everyone yelled at them to kiss was obnoxious, having annie moan softly after jeff said he loved women but then not having any kind of follow-up is mean spirited in the extreme, and transitioning immediately into everyone confessing “terrible secrets” from this queerbait content leaves a bad taste in my mouth. then craig then trying to come forward with a secret about how he’s “not traditional” is fully a hate crime. the stinger and all of the times craig tries to hug jeff are more expected levels of homophobia for community. cut the stinger and all the really bad stuff with craig and rewrite the confessions (annie’s and shirley’s ring particularly false and troy’s has absolutely nothing to do with his character – also not giving abed one destroys the symmetry of the group. stop treating abed differently from everyone else and stop writing abed like sheldon (“yeah, and i don’t need a puppet to express myself; i already say whatever i want” – WE GET IT, THIS IS THE ONLY THING YOU IDIOT WRITERS KNOW ABOUT HIM). cut the “landing strip” line (especially if we’re living in a world, as we are this season, where troy doesn’t know sex exists). finally, if we must use the puppets, can we try a different framing device? WRITE CRAIG LIKE A REAL HUMAN BEING.

4x10 intro to knots: STOP MAKING ANNIE TRY TO BE JEFF’S WIFE ALL THE TIME????????????????? i watched 2 minutes and got so steaming mad over annie that i couldn’t continue. also why does britta read like a more intense MRA than usual wrote all her lines this week?

4x11 basics of human anatomy: i do like the very gay story that troy and abed have this episode but annie’s storyline chills me to the bone. please just keep the troy and abed content the same and add a storyline where annie, shirley and pierce fight over banners while locked in the study room.

4x12 heroic origins: the whole idea for this was dumb and stretches believability badly. i’d accept a simplified premise though. make it just a “sliding doors” type of story about how troy and abed almost met, with more character stuff for them, kind of like broad city did this year? but including the whole group blocked anyone from getting any real character stuff through this because it was sooo shallow. also the “campus crusade for christ” line is a hate crime.

4x13 advanced introduction to finality: Please… the writers could not handle the darkest timeline responsibly. somehow they wrote a jeff/annie dynamic that has almost the exact same lines you’d expect to be written by a reasonable person who is repulsed by their relationship and clearly articulates why, but the overall tone suggests that they think it’s sexy and not reprehensible. appalling

#community #og post #ask #noelleakopian

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jasmine-jules · 7 years

Text

Slave to the Game(A Jack the Ripper Story): Chapter 4

Word Count: 4900+

Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence(the murder), Murder, Mild language, Implied rape

Here’s our master list for the next chapters, and if you want more!

~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve read plenty of crime novels in my youth, stealing moments at night to read The Murders in the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allen Poe, The Rector of Veilbye by Steen Steensen Blicher or A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The one thing that is never actually discussed in these books is how dull and painstakingly long the interrogation process is - person after person going through the police department giving us nothing more than extra paperwork. To only give the department some gray hairs and the need to pull all nighters at the morgue.

In addition to the long nights, there was one other thing that seemed to cause my accelerated aging. The police station had recently had an accident in their crime lab, making it unusable, so they elected our morgue to do assist in the investigations. This means my alone space is constantly violated by the same three policemen, and each of them having an air of disapproval surrounding them. That not only means I don’t have my space, but my space is being filled with bigoted men who don’t think women deserve to be in the workforce, especially those of a higher class like myself. Bigoted men who think they know my lab better than I do. Bigoted men who clearly don’t deserve to be in law enforcement because they are idiots who don’t know how anything works.

“Are you sure that goes there?” a voice said from behind me.

“I’m pretty sure I am doing this right.” I said coldly as I was pushed aside from my work table by Mr. Arnold James. I mean seriously, even his name sounds bigoted, “I have worked here for nearly 3 years now, and I was practically raised here as my father owned this facility before he passed.”

Having elected to ignore me, he pushed aside the evidence that I had been working on, and replaced it with almost an identical piece of evidence then proceeded to use the tool wrong. I threw my hands up in the air and walked out of the morgue in defeat.

“Miss Bellaus! I thought you’d be working!” Archer exclaimed as I walked into his office area, where he was filing the reports to send to the police department. Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t trust him but I would rather be with someone who might be on the wrong side than those who are on the wrong side. Even if they are two completely unrelated topics.

“Can we kick them out. Please. Let them do things wrong at a different morgue. I cannot stand another moment of their bigoted...ness.” Archer chuckled at my comment.

“I wish, but if we don’t let them use our morgue then we will not be allowed to continue working on the Leather Apron murders and we really can’t have that happen.” I gave him an inquisitive look, “...with the murders being connected to your relationship with Jessamine? Now, how about you get back in there and show those bigots who’s the boss around here.” I grimaced at the thought but walked out of his office towards the morgue anyways. As I stepped down the stairs back to where the bigoted men resided, I couldn’t help but feel that something was off about that conversation.

“Oh, look! The little girl is back again.” Mr. Arnold James exclaimed and I nearly punched him in the nose right then and there.

“For one, my name is Miss Bellaus not little girl.” He looked indignant at the apparent disrespect I was showing him, but I barreled on, “Number two, you are doing that wrong. If you look at the piece of evidence I was examining and compare it with yours, you’ll see my subject will show quite a bit more of what you are looking for. Your subject, while it is bigger, it has less blood on it, while if you look at mine you can see a much larger amount of blood on it, allowing me to have an easier time of collecting the sample and twice as much evidence. Though that is not where your mistakes began. The first mistake was believing that everything I did was wrong and proceeding to re-do every experiment I had already completed only because I am a woman.”

Shock rose on their face and Mr. Arnold James looked ready to explode, his face turning more red than the crimson dress I was wearing, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? I am quite a bit more observant than any of you pigs are,” I spat. “Which is why while you weren’t looking, I went back and replaced it with my specimen once again because you had even been using the microscope wrong while completing your experiment. I mean, how hard is it to use a microscope anyways??” I exclaimed.

I turned to the other two men in the room, having finished tearing Mr. James Arnold a new one. “Number three, you two have not been using gloves the entire process so there is a good chance that if I had used that evidence for a testimony in court it would be disbanded because we would’ve been accused of tampering with it. Now, if you would be so kind and start actually doing this right then maybe we'll get along or I am going to kick you out and have Mr. Clay report you to the chief of police for insubordination towards the head of the morgue.”

They didn’t bother me for the rest of the time they were there. I’m pretty sure they had asked Archer for my schedule of when I would and wouldn’t be there because I actually never saw them again. The only evidence that they hadn’t ran away completely was the crumbs of food left on the work tables. Which goes to show their incompetence once more.

Another highlight is that after my outburst whenever I walked into the police station to bring a report that Archer or I had filled, it’d get very quiet and the men would nearly jump out of my way to let me pass

That being quite a happy improvement, especially since Archer and I were present for many of the interrogations involved with the Leather Apron case. Although, all interrogations we were present for had quite similar results since most of them were only questioning the witnesses, not actually interrogating suspects. They all had the same thing to say about what they saw the night of the murders. The prostitute was seen entering her apartment with a young person, most likely a boy. The young boy wasn’t seen leaving the apartment but the next time someone went to find her, she was dead. Giving us absolutely nothing to go on. Then the police would find a lead from the thousands of letters sent into the police station, follow it, arrest someone and release the suspect within three hours because the police found they had a rock solid alibi.

Then came one letter. At first, it was just set aside as some person trying to rile up the police but then they sent it down to my lab for examination. They did this with every letter they got. They were trying to see if anything useful could come of it. Nothing ever did. They were all fakes and I could easily pull some fingerprints, which if the Leather Apron was as smart as we all thought, I wouldn’t be able to find any incriminating evidence. I also never read them, it would take up time that I really didn’t have. I don’t think the police read these letters either. Although, this letter was spotless. No fingerprints. No stains. Not even a spec of dirt that I could try to trace. Absolutely nothing. So I did read this letter.

Dear Boss,

I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits.

I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope

ha. ha.

The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight.

My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.

Yours truly

Jack the Ripper

Dont mind me giving the trade name

PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha

The letter slipped out of my hands and a thud echoed in the room as my back hit the wall. I clasped my hands against my mouth as a scream threatened to escape. It wasn’t even the fact that this letter was possibly the real thing but something about it felt familiar. But I had no idea what. My first instinct was to call out for Archer but if he was apart of this somehow then what would he do if I showed him this letter? Try to destroy it? If I left it here and he found it, would it disappear like that piece of cloth did? The letter did say to keep it until something else happened but should I even be listening to whoever wrote this letter? Was anything in this letter even valid? My train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Hey Miss Bellaus, can you look over-” Archer’s voice abruptly stopped as his eyes fell upon me. He dropped the papers he had in his hands and rushed over to me. “What happened? Did something happen to Jessamine?” I shook my head.

“No. Nothing’s happened to Jessamine.”

“Well then what’s wrong?” he exclaimed.

“One of the letters the police sent to us just... caught me off-guard. It felt too real but I don’t think it’s gonna be anything to worry about.” I responded.

“You sure?” I nodded again. “Alright then.” Disbelief shone from his eyes but if I was truly in shock, I wouldn’t be in the best state of mind, right? “I just wanted you to look over a report I had written out for the police about the heart attack victim we had yesterday.” he said, changing the topic.

“Right. Sure.” I walked numbly over to the table where he had set the report. “What did you want me to look for?”

“Just double check I had everything right. It’s just been a hectic few weeks so I haven’t been completely focusing on wording.” I read over it and handed it to him.

“That seems fine.”

“Right. Thank you Miss Bellaus.” and after a few seconds, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes I’m absolutely fine.” I said sharply, “I’m just going to finish up testing a couple more letters before I head out.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow.” I nodded as he walked away. He paused and turned his head, “You know you can always talk to me. Right?” I smiled at him tersely. I took a deep breath and released it when he finally disappeared through the door. I don’t think our conversations have ever been like this. Even when we first met, our conversations flowed without any weirdness about it. I felt my shoulders slump with frustration. I really do hope he has nothing to do with the Leather Apron, or I guess Jack the Ripper now, because then once this is all over we can go back to how everything was before. Which would be nice. I sighed once again and walked back over to where I had dropped the letter. I slipped on some gloves - no point in contaminating it even more right? - and started looking it over again.

I wasn’t exactly lying when I told Archer I would be going over letters before I left. It just wouldn’t be letters, only one. I examined it and began writing down every little thing about it, the color of the ink, the material of the paper the letter was written on, the possible utensils used, really anything that could give me a lead on who wrote this. By the time I had finished, nothing stayed undocumented. That just left me with one thing. What to do with the report and letter. Logically, I should leave it here and file it away because that’s what would have done before all of this but every warning bell goes off in my head when I think that because if Archer is involved, then leaving this for him to find would possibly be catastrophic. So if I didn’t leave it here, where would I put it? My house? Where any of my servants or mom could find it? I do have a locked drawer where I keep all of my work related stuff, but that doesn’t mean someone could still get in. Though my room is the only place Archer wouldn’t go because even a serial killer has to follow proper manners in this era. My eyes flickered over the letter as I pondered what to do.

“I’ll bring it home with me.” I decided aloud. I slipped the letter and report into my handbag and made my way to the door. The carriage ride passed with little incident and by the time I got home it was almost dusk. I had decided to stop at a little sweet shop, I felt deserved something tasty.

“Good Evening Miss Bellaus, are you up for some dinner?” One of my maids, Elizabeth asked. I smiled sweetly as her,

“That would be amazing. Thank you Elizabeth.” She smiled at me and I walked to my room. I took the key that hung behind my dresses and opened up my drawer, sliding the letter and report in. Now I guess I just wait.

~~~~

September 30th

I shuffled my legs beneath the covers before rolling onto my back. Sharp pain ran through my body and I shot up into a sitting position. I cursed under my breath as I twisted my arm around to my back and ran my fingers across. A hiss of pain escaped my lips as my fingers ran across already scabbing scrapes. What the hell. I rolled out of bed, stumbling as I hit the ground. I stripped off my nightgown and twisted to look at the scrapes on my back. I stared in horror at the reflection. Calling them scrapes was an understatement. They were more like gashes running in long streaks across my back. They resembled the kind of marks that were left on Jessamine’s back after one of the nights we had spent together, only a more extreme version. They were deep and they were colored a dark red, implying that whoever had given them me was in extreme pain...or in immense pleasure. I paused at the thought, What happened to me last night. And why can I not remember. I broke out of my train of thought as I heard footsteps approaching the door.

“Miss Bellaus? Do you need any help? I heard crashing.” One of my maids, Grace, asked through the door. I closed my eyes in annoyance. She must’ve heard me getting out of bed.

“I’m fine, Grace. Thank you.” It was a few seconds before I heard her footsteps leading away from the door and I let out a breath. My breath was sucked back in as an idea came to me. I rushed to the door and ran to catch up to Grace, not caring if the door slammed.

“Actually, Grace!” I reached her side, “I do have one question.” She dipped her head, allowing me to continue, “Do you know when I left the house last night and about what time I got back? If so, do you know where I was headed?”

“You only left the house for a short while, Miss, then you came straight back with a friend. But don’t worry, I won’t tell your mother.” she said with a small smile.

“No, no. I don’t worry about that. I can’t remember,” I spoke in a small whisper, my fear getting the better of me.

“I don’t understand, Miss. You don’t remember a single thing from last night?” I shook my head and I felt panic sweeping across me. Why don’t I remember anything? I have three gashes on my back. Surely I would have to remember getting those.

“Did I leave the house after I came back with the friend?” I asked, trying to get a better picture of what might’ve happened. Grace nodded,

“About two hours later when I was tending to the fireplace, you and your friend snuck out. I assumed you were going out to a pub or something. I don’t think you saw me. Then as I was heading to bed just a little after one in the morning, you came back to the house. I couldn’t see much as the lamps were all out, but you were staggering like you had been hurt. I went to bed shortly after that; I wouldn’t know if you snuck out again after that.”

My heart plummeted. I went out twice last night maybe more. Both of which I had a friend with me. Both of which I couldn’t remember a single second of. Grace seems to think that the friend I had with me was… but I would never cheat on Jessamine. At least… I had thought I wouldn’t.

“Thank you Grace. That’s all for now.” I said, dismissing her. She looked reluctant to leave me alone but she walked away after a few seconds. How do I not remember any of it? It was obviously a rough night, with the deep gashes on my back and my staggering in last night. My hands involuntarily gripped my head, pulling harshly at my hair. Why don’t I remember it. I should remember it.

Memory flashes took over my thoughts in a second. Days where I could remember waking up but don’t remember actually falling asleep. Moments halfway through the day where I lost hours of time, moments where I thought I just had gotten lost in thought or in whatever I was doing. Moments where I was in the middle of making dinner but the next thing I remember was getting ready to go to bed. Full nights missing and if I thought hard enough I would be able to line them up perfectly with the last two murders.

I let out a strangled cry. What the hell is happening to me. Filled with panic, I fumbled through my closet for something that I could get on easily. I tore off one of my dresses off the hook and put it on. I fumbled with my brush on the desk and the letter from Jack the Ripper floated to the ground. With shaking hands I lifted it up and suddenly I knew why it felt so familiar. I shook my head in panic. No No No No No. It can’t be. My hands blundered on my desk as I looked for something with Archer’s handwriting. With trembling hands I compared them.

They didn’t match.

I gasped in relief, my eyes filling with unshed tears. But why does this letter still spark recognition? There is no reason I should still feel this way towards the letter. I felt my chest start to constrict as I felt the now familiar symptoms of panic start to settle in.

In the throes of my panic, I shoved my feet into a pair of shoes, not even caring if it looked presentable and rushed out of my room. I almost crashed into Grace but I rushed past her, ignoring her cries of worry. I let my instinct lead me and I honestly had no idea where I was going, but the path I took felt eerily familiar. Only I did not remember ever going down this street. But that’s the problem, is it not? I can’t remember. How many days or nights have gone by that I don’t remember.

The scene that I came upon was swarming with policemen. I pushed my way through into the scene of the crime, bile rose in my throat and I could not push it down this time. I reached a wastebasket just in time as I retched. Her ears were missing. Just as the letter from Jack the Ripper said.

“Miss, you can’t be in here.” A policeman said with worry. I shook my head.

“I’m with the police department, head of the Morgue involved with the Jack the Ripper case.”

“Jack the Ripper, eh? Fancy new name you got there.” he replied cockily.

“It works better.” I whispered as I walked back over to the body. “What’s her name?”

“Catherine Eddowes.” I nodded and surveyed the body. From first glance her face had been mutilated, her throat severed, and a giant jagged wound in her abdomen. As I stepped closer I could tell that her kidneys and uterus had been removed, just like the last victims. Only in Eddowes case, the mutilations to her body were way worse than the others. Just like the last victims, I knew she would look similar the Jessamine even though I couldn’t actually see her features anymore. “We actually found a first body, just a few blocks from here. Although we don’t know if it is is connected to, what is it..Jack the Ripper?”

“Two murders?” I choked out in horror. The policeman nodded,

“The only thing we don’t know is if she is connected. Only her throat had been slashed. No wound in the abdomen, like the previous two and Eddowes.”

“Do you have a picture?” I asked, my voice a little stronger now.

“Of course.” He called over to a man with a camera and the man walked over. “I need the picture from Elizabeth Stride’s crime scene.”

“Did you just say...Elizabeth Stride?” I blurted out. The policeman sent an inquisitive look to me,

“Yes, why? Do you know her?” The man with the camera pulled a picture out of Elizabeth Stride.

“She is...was one of my maids. She’s usually the one that checks on me in mornings so that the kitchen maids can start with breakfast if I am up but...it was a different maid this morning. I mean I would normally notice if one of my maids are missing but...I wasn’t in the best mindset this morning.”

“That’s a start. We’ll need you to come in at some point for some questioning. You aren’t in trouble, but we need to know everything about Miss Stride. Do you know anything about Miss Eddowes here?” I shook my head reluctantly,

“Only that she looks like one of my friends Jessamine, as have the other two but I have already told the police this.”

“Thank you for all your help.”

“Much obliged. I will send in a report of Eddowes later today, same with Stride.”

“Thank you. I will call a carriage for you to head over to the crime scene.”

“I will not need one. I need to go somewhere first before I go see Miss Stride.” I walked out of the room as proudly as I could but the moment I got out of view from the scene I broke into a run with a destination in mind.

Robert James Lees. The clairvoyant Archer and I had run into almost three weeks ago, after we went to the first Whitechapel Vigilance meeting. I got to the edge of his street and paused. Do I really want to do this? Sink this low? I took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way there. I only hesitated briefly before knocking on the door. I saw a quick flash of someone looking into the peephole before it disappeared again.

“Miss Bellaus. I’m surprised to see you here.” he said, opening the door just enough so his face could look out. He was obviously opposed to letting me in.

“I need your help. I’m...forgetting things. Huge blocks of time.” I could still sense hesitancy, and I shared much further than I wanted to, “Time missing over the nights of the Jack the Ripper murders.” His eyes widened at the last phrase.

“Come on in.” He opened the door wider to let me in and as I walked through I felt a sense of finality as the door clicked shut behind me.

“I was hoping you would be able...maybe bring back up past memories or something. Or I don’t know, talk to the victims….I just need to do something.”

“Follow me.” he told me, leading me in his sitting room. “Now you need to know something Miss Bellaus, I cannot actually bring back memories for you. That is something you need to figure out how to do yourself. The one thing I can do is give you some insight for why you are having these blackouts.” He gestured for me to sit down, and as I did he walked over to a cabinet, opened it and pulled out a letter. “This is something I received from your father. Shortly before his passing.” He held it out to me and tears welled up in my eyes as I recognized my father’s handwriting.

Dear Mr. Lees,

I am sending this letter in hopes that you will be able to someday help my daughter understand. I know she will come into contact with what I am to share with you, and I wish you will share this when she asks about certain things.

There is a drug. Commonly known as the Devil's Breath but she will know it as Scopolamine.

I let out a sobbed breath as I read the last line. Scopolamine is a drug that if used correctly, can quite literally take the free will of any victim but if used another way, would be seriously addictive.

I became addicted to it after an unfortunate accident with the chemical. I never realized the effects until later. Major blackouts. Periods where I would make dinner and not remember eating it. Going to bed but not remember waking up. I don’t know what I did in the duration where I was on this drug.

I eventually rid myself of this illness but I never truly recovered. I still had frequent blackouts even after I stopped taking the drug and I began to notice not only my memory was affected, my physical health began to decline as well. I guess that is why I am on my deathbed now.

My daughter did come in contact with it once, but I quickly steered her away from it but even once can be the downfall of anyone.

One reason I am writing this letter is someone who had become like a son to me had taken an interest. One of my students wanted to do a research paper on it, I tried steering him away from it as well but once he had his mind set on something, he never let it go. I took this student under my wing in hopes of putting this mind of his to something useful, maybe one day taking over my morgue and in league with my daughter, I knew they could do anything if they had each other. Though every once in awhile I would find him back at his old reports with one of those wretched white flowers in front of him scribbling away and I knew I didn’t try hard enough. I only hope he doesn’t go any further with his research. Clay really did achieve anything he put his mind to.

I gasped at the revelation. Clay. Like Archer Clay. But a wave of doubt ran through me, Archer had never mentioned he knew my father, let alone having had him as a mentor or father figure. It couldn’t possibly be my Clay.

I wrote this letter with a second reason. To warn my daughter of the possibility Clay never stopped his research.

Don’t show her this, or let her know this letter even exists if she never asks. But if she comes to you with worries of blackouts, please show her this. I just want her to be safe.

Sincerely,

Thaddeus Bellaus

P.S. I love you my dear Dinah Fae. Always live with love in your heart.

“Thank you for showing me this, Lees.” I told James with a sob, clutching the letter tightly against my chest, holding onto one of the last things my father made.

“Oh my dear. I wish you had never shown up on my doorstep and I wish I never had to give you that letter.” he murmured.

“Me too.” I whispered.

“Now be on your way. I’ve done all that your father wished me too. I hope you find your way in this mess.” he replied. I smiled sadly at him and dipped my head to him before walking out the door with the letter held tightly in my hand. I have some work to do.

#my writing #a slave to the game #jack the ripper #chapter 4

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boneslaw · 5 years

Text

Prologue

Rendezvous was exactly where you'd expect for this sort of thing. The right atmosphere on the wrong side of town.

We decided to meet at the local pub. Local to me- I'd been doing oddjobs a while. Slick white scars lining my hands, and charcoal under my nails- I made myself a staple in town, saving up for this endeavor. It’d been a long few months but the wait was supposed to be worth it. He'd be breezing through on his way north, in town for one night only. That was his story, anyways. I hoped he'd find the bar alright. The tavern's sign post was stolen ages ago, repeatedly. No one needed it. Those who came through here were creatures of habit. This was a pub that patched itself up with the same lumber its kegs came in. The sickly sweet smell it radiated suggested spilled whiskey kept it together, while the whole thing was wedged in line with the other decrepit, seedier establishments. A hole in the wall in the literal sense, you could worm your way in the broken boards of the neighboring brothel. I used the front door. Lowlights inside distorted the barflies' faces like masks. Smiles turned ominous and anything else went dour. My target was easy to spot among the regulars. Tucked in a corner, he sported a flower in his hat. That was the signal I was told to look for. "Halstead?" I asked, low, just audible over the raucous laughter. The hunched figure ahead lifted two fingers, coincidentally confirming the two things I needed from him: 1. This was the man I wanted. 2. He was in no hurry to advertise it. The two of us had been exchanging letters for some time. This was our first visit in person, and I couldn't say this was the face I'd put to him. His elegant script wasn't indicative of a man who hadn't shaved at least a week. His posture was too poor for the pristine stationary, and his clothes too disheveled for the wit he concluded each message. The petals on his rim glowed in the dark; he must have picked it fresh this morning. It was the only visible evidence he'd seen sunlight in weeks. I offered my hand to introduce myself properly. "Mulligan." He shook it, smiling wide. "Mulligan! A pleasure to meet you in the flesh." "Pleasure's mine. Did you get in well?" "Fairly enough. Nice city, you have." Sarcasm. He's over here because he was inevitably bullied away from the bar at the first syllable of that fancy accent of his. "I can't imagine why you're in a hurry to leave." "We all have our reasons." "I'm sure you do. And Private Ruiz, too?" The butt of my cigar burned bright, an unfortunate giveaway against my otherwise immaculate poise. "I forgot I had given you my nickname." "You didn't." "You're right, I didn't." I took a seat. In the same, harsh exhale that obscured my face I mapped my exits. When the smoke lifted, I found him taking a long draw from his drink, waiting for other shoe to drop. "What do you want?" "Nothing." He gibed. I remained impassive as he reveled in the advantage he'd given himself. I couldn't decipher what it meant yet, and his answer clarified little. "Just to make sure my legacy didn't go toward nefarious means." "Legacy?" His head canted, "Are you saying you didn't look into me at all?" "I did not." Nor did I appreciate the condescension. Those in the business of selling their identities didn't usually have a 'legacy.' Or fame, or anything I usually wanted further insight into. Only ghosts. I left mine scattered across the states. Everywhere from a hole 200 feet in the Earth to the shores of Morehead, but if I've learned anything, it's that they are confined to their haunting grounds. They hitch a ride in your psyche only if you let them. I didn't- but I was there for those who couldn't shake the shadows behind them. It was counter intuitive for me to look deeper into a name than where it can get me. If they were running from something, why would I seek that something out? No. I needed prominent people, with prominent identification to successfully do what I needed to do. That's it. These meetings always ran the risk of going this way, but I'd been 'lucky' so far. It's a term I use lightly. I smothered my cigar before the blasted thing gives me away again. Getting to the point, "I want what I came here for. Or to be arrested. Whichever you had in mind." He laughed mirthfully and I caught the glassiness in his eyes. He's drunk but wears it well. I can outrun him. But instead of pushing it or telling me anything else I already know about myself, he slid a folder my way. "Sorry. I couldn't help having a little fun. Here." I flipped it open, looking between it and him. Inside was what I came here to retrieve. A passport. With it were our letters, returned as a show of good faith. Beyond that, a little something extra. Further pages were marred with whatever poison he had been drinking all night- the last of which was a page outlining his apparent accolades. This was bestowed upon by a governor, it's prestige too great for the disrespect it'd been paid ending up in this condition. In this bar. In my hands. "What's this?" His gloating turned to disapproval, face falling as if to say 'Read it, dumbass.’ "Detective Halstead." I hedged. "That'd be me." "Active?" "Not advised, this side of the Mississippi." A closer look revealed it true. Everything inside was stamped hundreds of leagues away. But why? "What do you think?" He baited. I remained quiet. I couldn't tell. My mind was going in too many directions at once. Too many mixed signals. I think I've been caught. I think that there is now a barmaid blocking the nearest exit, and I think Private Ruiz is AWOL to the second power, and Arthur Mulligan- Well Arthur Mulligan didn't do anything wrong, except have a wife who is dangerously good at tracking. (Mrs Avery Mulligan is an exception to the ghost rule. Hot on my coattails, I haven't lost her since Tennessee- she's after child support I don't have. The kids look nothing like me.) And beyond that is more than I wanted to deal with, at any capacity. I have too many loose ends, and not enough incentive to face prosecution for anything I've done or the actions of my lives before I've reaped them. "Are you with the military?" I finally asked, getting to the crux of it. "I'm not here for your desertion, Private." Loaded question. That told me how deep his information goes. Confident now, I rose from my seat abruptly, taking care to note that no bodies around me jumped too. Not even Mr.Halstead. "What?" His cocky bubble burst. "Did I scare you?" "What is your ploy?" "The original plan." His finger traced the rim off his glass. Fake as his smile, it didn't sing. "I don't have a ploy. No ulterior motive. Nothing except I intend to be on the first train out in the morning, coffers full." "And your 'legacy'?" "Dead to me. Maybe it'll be better use to you." "Why?" "We all have our reasons." That couldn't have been more ominous. There were plenty of reasons to walk. Beyond minor inconvenience, there was nothing stopping me from truly progressing with what I had except...stagnancy. I'd be fine as Arthur another few months, a static vaguely somebody doing what work he could around the state- Or I could do more. Charlie promised he had something good for me, and by god he delivered. Alarm bells told me this was a bad idea, but those bells had been playing since I left home. Looking between him and his credentials, it was my most ambitious break yet. Did I want to let that go so easily? "Well?" He offered, one last time. I paid him in full. - - - There was always a trial period between new identities. Before I slipped into the cold shoes of someone else, I wanted to make sure I could fill them. Insurance, if there were to be any. Halstead didn't intend for me to usurp his position. It was an idiotic move given his reputation. The extra bits were probably just given to me because he was arrogant like that, but digging up dirt would be the confirmation I needed for his mantle in full. I was sure he'd hate me doing this too, which was all the more motivation. I backtracked from the governor's letters. Letter after letter, telegram after telegram, I matched the names up to cases, and the cases stacked together to form the former life of a prosperous detective. Charlie Halstead grew up in a small town, child of the deputy. His parents put him through private school. No record of a sweetheart but between cracking cases like the Disappearance of Anna Louis, to the Robbery of Welton bank, to shutting down a smuggling operation along the Idorough river there wasn't time. A local legend, until the height of his career ultimately led to its plummet "Jesus Christ." My ash singed the results. He fell hard. Very hard. Borderline sociopathic criminal, or in the very least giant asshole. He left everything because it was a liability. Being him meant trouble- more than me being me did. He wriggled off the hook by the skin of his teeth, legal technicality, and a pinch of nepotism, but no one really escapes public scrutiny. He must've realized this when he couldn't find work in the town he was once beloved. When people spat at his face, or crossed the street to avoid his path. I wouldn't want to be him either, and I just dumped my savings into it. My first reaction was to take the loss. My second reaction, however. My second was to seize it. He could have got another identity if he wanted. Could have easily abandoned his in pursuit of something quieter, quainter, and out of the public eye- but I think he wanted his name to ping on the map beyond him. Maybe let rumors of him bleed across the US, until his infamy died with his obscurity. I was a tool in this way. A pawn- But whatever his reasoning was, it no longer mattered. I saw potential. I took his accomplishments and did away with the rest- something he himself could never do. This life was a new avenue to pursue. An exciting one, with the most advanced resume I've acquired to date. I could use this. I could be this, and I decided to prove it to myself with the last dregs of my cash. A name like this could take me anywhere if I was smart about it. Even if I couldn't trust my fortunes, I could trust myself. My ad was in the paper of a new town the following day. Charlie Halstead, detective for hire.

#charlie #mywriting

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batterymonster2021 · 5 years

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Bitcoin: How Cryptocurrencies Work

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/bitcoin-how-cryptocurrencies-work/

Bitcoin: How Cryptocurrencies Work

Say theres a coin thats currently worth countless numbers of U.S. Dollars, but its no longer fabricated from gold, or platinum, or any worthwhile metallic. In fact, its now not the style of coin which you can maintain on your hand or stick in a piggy bank. Its a digital foreign money, which means that it most effective exists electronically. Im talking about bitcoin. Bitcoin doesnt work like most money. It isnt attached to a state or government, so it doesnt have a primary issuing authority or regulatory body.Sincerely, that implies theres no group determining when to make more bitcoins, determining how many to produce, retaining monitor of the place they’re, or investigating fraud. So how does bitcoin work as a forex, or have any worth at all? Well, bitcoin wouldnt exist and not using a whole community of men and women and somewhat thing called cryptography. In fact, its regularly described because the worlds first cryptocurrency. And heres the way it works. Bitcoin is a thoroughly digital currency, and you can exchange bitcoins between desktops in a international peer-to-peer network. The entire point of most peer-to-peer networks is sharing stuff, like letting individuals make copies of super authorized song or movies to download. If bitcoin is a digital forex, whats stopping you from making a bunch of counterfeit copies and fitting fabulously rich? Well, not like a mp3 or a video file, a bitcoin isnt a string of knowledge that can be duplicated.A bitcoin is virtually an entry on a tremendous, world ledger referred to as the blockchain, for causes good get to in a minute. The blockchain records every bitcoin transaction that has ever happened. And, as of late 2016, the entire ledger is about 107 gigabytes of information. So when you send anyone bitcoins, its not like youre sending them a bunch of files. As a substitute, youre clearly writing the exchange down on that massive ledger anything like, Michael sends Hank 5 bitcoins. Now, possibly youre pondering, but, wait. You said bitcoin doesnt have a vital authority to maintain track of everything! Even though the blockchain is a important document, theres no reliable team of persons who update the ledger and maintain monitor of everybodys cash like a financial institution does its decentralized. Actually, someone can volunteer to keep the blockchain up-to-the-minute with the entire new transactions. And a ton of men and women do. All of it works considering there are tons of people preserving monitor of the identical thing, to be certain all transactions are correct. Like, suppose youre playing a game of poker with some buddies, however none of you could have poker chips, and also you left your cash at house.Theres no money on the table, so just a few of you get out some notebooks, and begin writing down who bets how so much, who wins, and who loses. You dont wholly believe any one else, so every body maintains their ledgers individually. And on the end of every hand, you all compare what youve written down. That means, if any one makes a mistake, or tries to cheat and snag some more cash for themselves, that discrepancy is caught. After a couple hands, you would fill up a page of your pocket book with notes about the cash action.You can think of every web page as a block of transactions. Finally, your notebook could have pages and pages of knowledge a sequence of those blocks. As a consequence: blockchain. Now, if 1000’s of humans are separately retaining the bitcoin blockchain, how are all the ledgers saved in sync? To keep on with our poker analogy: suppose of the complete bitcoin peer-to-peer community as a particularly giant poker desk with thousands of folks. Some are simply exchanging cash, however lots of volunteers are keeping ledgers. So when you need to send or acquire cash, you have to announce it to every person on the table, so the folks preserving track can update their ledgers. So for every transaction, youre saying a few matters to the bitcoin network: your account quantity, the account number of the person youre sending bitcoins to, and how many bitcoins you need to send. And the entire users who are maintaining copies of the blockchain will add your transaction to the present block. Having a bunch of persons hold monitor of transactions looks like a pretty good protection measure. But if all it takes to send bitcoins is a couple of account numbers, that appears like it possibly a security drawback.Its a gigantic crisis with typical cash just consider about all the methods criminals attempt to steal different peoples credit card knowledge. And with bitcoin, theres no relevant bank to notice anything weird occurring to close down fraud, like if it gave the impression of suddenly you spent your complete existence savings on pork jerky. So whats stopping Hank from pretending hes me and simply sending himself all of my bitcoins? Bitcoins are saved lovely reliable thanks to cryptography, which is why its considered a cryptocurrency. In particular, bitcoin stays cozy due to the fact that of keys, that are essentially chunks of information that can be utilized to make mathematical ensures about messages, like howdy, this is relatively from me! While you create an account on the bitcoin network, which you could have heard called a wallet, that account is linked to 2 particular keys: a personal key, and a public key.On this case, the private key can take some knowledge and sincerely mark it, also known as signing it, so that other individuals can affirm these signatures later if they need. So lets say I want to send a message to the community that says, Michael sends 3 bitcoins to Olivia. I sign that message utilising my private key, which handiest i have access to, and no person else can replicate. Then, I ship that signed message out to the bitcoin network, and everyone can use my public key to be certain my signature tests out. That method, every body preserving track of all of the bitcoin trading is aware of to add my transaction to their copy of the blockchain. In other phrases, if the public key works, thats proof that the message was signed by way of my exclusive key and is some thing I wanted to ship.Unlike a handwritten signature, or a credit card quantity, this proof of identity isnt some thing that may be faked by means of a rip-off artist. The who part of every transaction is obviously major, to be certain the proper people are swapping bitcoins. However the when issues, as well. If you happen to had a thousand greenbacks in your bank account, for example, and tried to buy two matters for a thousand bucks every, the bank would honor the primary purchase and deny the second.If the financial institution didnt do that, youd be in a position to spend the same money multiple instances. Which might sound incredible, however its additionally terrible. A economic method cant work like that, due to the fact no one would get paid. So if I best have enough money to pay Olivia or Hank, however i attempt to pay them each, theres a verify constructed into the bitcoin process. Both the bitcoin community and your pockets automatically determine your prior transactions to be certain you have ample bitcoins to send within the first place. But theres one more predicament that might occur with timing: considering that plenty of men and women are maintaining copies of the blockchain everywhere the arena, community delays imply that you wont normally receive the transaction requests within the equal order. So now youve obtained a bunch of persons with a bunch of relatively distinctive blocks to decide upon from, but none of them are necessarily fallacious.Okay, bitcoin. How do you solve that hindrance? Seems, its by using certainly solving problems. Math issues. To add a block of transactions to the chain, each and every individual retaining a ledger has to clear up a specified type of math difficulty created via a cryptographic hash function. A hash perform is an algorithm that takes an input of any measurement, and turns it into an output with a fixed dimension. For example, we could say you had this string of numbers as your input And our example hash perform says to add the entire numbers collectively. So, on this case, the output could be 10. What makes hash capabilities fairly just right for cryptography is that once youre given an enter, its particularly handy to search out the output. But its really tough to take an output and determine the common enter. Even in this super simple instance, there are plenty of strings of numbers that add as much as 10. The only method to determine that the enter was 1-2-3-4 is to just bet except you get it right. Now, the hash function that bitcoin uses is called SHA256, which stands for relaxed Hash Algorithm 256-bit.And it used to be at the beginning developed with the aid of the U.S. National safety agency. Computers that were principally designed to solve SHA256 hash issues take, on normal, about ten minutes to guess the solution to each one. That implies theyre churning by way of billions and billions of guesses before they get it correct. Whoever solves the hash first gets so as to add the next block of transactions to the blockchain, which then generates a brand new math hindrance that wishes to be solved. If a couple of people make blocks at roughly the equal time, then the network picks one to hold constructing upon, which becomes the longest, and most trusted chain. And any transactions in these alternate branches of the chain get put back into a pool to be brought onto later blocks. These volunteers spend 1000’s of bucks on certain computers built to clear up SHA256 issues, and run their electrical power fees up sky excessive to maintain those machines walking. However why? What do they get out of retaining the blockchain? Is it simply community provider? Good, bitcoin sincerely has a built-in method to reward them.In these days, each time you win the race to add a block to the blockchain, 12 and a half of new bitcoins are created out of thin air, and awarded to your account. In fact, you might comprehend the bitcoin ledger-keepers by means of one more name: miners. Thats on account that retaining the blockchain up-to-date is like swinging a proverbial pickaxe at these hash issues, hoping to strike it rich. When bitcoins had been first created in 2009, they didnt really have any perceived price. Tens of bitcoins would were worth the identical as a bunch of pennies. As of November 10th, 2016, although, one bitcoin is valued at 708 US greenbacks. So 12 and a half of bitcoins are worth 8,850 dollars. Thats a first-class chunk of alternate! Each single bitcoin that exists was created to reward a bitcoin miner. Apart from the big payout once they add a new block of transactions, miners are additionally almost tipped an awfully small amount for every transaction they add to the ledger. Its also worth noting that each 210,000 blocks, the quantity of coins generated when a brand new block is introduced goes down via 1/2. So what began as a reward of 50 bitcoins diminished to 25, then 12 and a 1/2.Itll handiest be round 6 bitcoins in a pair extra years, and keep decreasing. Ultimately, there will be so many transactions in a block, that itll still be beneficial for miners to typically be paid in tips. In step with present projections, the last bitcoin customarily across the 21 millionth coin will be mined within the year 2140. This reducing number of bitcoins is truly modelled off the price at which matters like gold are dug out of the earth. And the thought is that maintaining the provide of bitcoins confined will raise their value over time.So, is investing in bitcoin a just right suggestion? Now thats… Now not relatively a SciShow kind of question. Bitcoin continues to be volatile, and experimental. A lot of men and women like it, and plenty of persons consider its doomed to fail. We just think its an intriguing idea, and it makes us wonder what cryptography would do for us subsequent. Thanks for observing this episode of SciShow, dropped at you by using our consumers on Patreon. If you want to support help this exhibit, simply go to patreon.Com/scishow.And dont put out of your mind to head to youtube.Com/scishow and subscribe! .

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airoasis · 5 years

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Bitcoin: How Cryptocurrencies Work

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/bitcoin-how-cryptocurrencies-work/

Bitcoin: How Cryptocurrencies Work

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spookyenemyperson-blog · 6 years

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"Los Angeles California Cheap car insurance quotes zip 90078

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