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midnightartemis · 3 years

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Chapter Two

Rated M - SFW - Read on AO3 - Chapter One - Chapter Three - Masterlist

It had been long said that the Fourth Year was the hardest year at Hogwarts. Ben learned quickly the truth of this statement. His professors dumped assignment after assignment in his lap as if they had realized how little they had taught him over the past three years. Hardly a class went by without a professor mentioning O.W.L.s, still over a year and a half away.

Ben had no time to contemplate anything outside of his studies and soon all thoughts of Vader and darkness were in the back of his mind. While his dreams were dark, he never remembered them after what little sleep he managed.

When he was not in class, he was studying. When he was not studying, he was sleeping. The weekends proved no better and he found himself quite alone on Sunday nights, trying not to think of Rey and the way her nose scrunched up as she tried to jinx him. He missed their time in the Room of Requirement. He missed having a true friend.

Ben shook his head to clear his thoughts and brought his focus back to his half-finished parchment on cursed object detection. While he loved to dive into the theoretical when it came to magic, Luke had the annoying habit of keeping Defense Against the Dark Arts as hands-off as possible. It was highly unlikely his uncle would bring in any cursed objects for the class to view, even though Ben knew for a fact his uncle owned several. This only brought up memories of India that Ben wished to forget and he scowled at his parchment.

“Forget how to read, Solo?” Hux’s voice came from across the common room. This time of night it was filled with students, some studying, some talking quietly around one of the many fires that warmed the perpetually chilly dorms. Hux sat on a plush emerald chair across from his usual cohorts, Phasma and Mitaka, who were giving him questioning looks. Despite being two years younger, Hux was one of the few Slytherins who had never been afraid of Ben or smart enough to leave him alone. Their parents were rivals; that was all the cause Hux needed.

“Forget your place, Huxley?” Ben muttered, not lifting his eyes from his parchment.

Hux frowned. He pushed himself from his chair and sauntered over to the empty table where Ben was working. With one hand, he slammed Ben’s D.A.D.A. book shut. Ben stopped his writing and sat back. Like this, they were the same height. Hux sneered, “Think you’re better than me, half-blood?”

Ben itched to turn Hux’s legs to jelly. Hux was only trying to get a rise out of him, to give his mother ammunition for her articles again. He was saved by a steady voice over his shoulder.

“Watch your tongue, Hux. I seem to remember a muggle-born putting you on your arse last year. Or did you forget? Blood isn’t everything.” Voe Elphrona raised her brow, amused. Her Head Girl badge flashed in the firelight on her robes. A talented witch and a fierce opponent both on and off the Quidditch pitch, Voe was widely respected, even by the likes of Armitage Hux.

Hux’s face turned bright red and he stiffly walked back to his chair. He snapped at Phasma and Mitaka who quickly found something else to look at.

Ben put his head back down though he could still feel Voe and her friends standing behind him. Only a moment passed before Voe took a seat across from him. Her friends - namely, the other Prefects - Tai, Hennix, Bazine, and Grummgar, made for the largest, most central couch in the common room, scaring off a flock of First Years.

What did she want?

“Mind if I join you?” Voe’s silvery eyes flashed. It wasn’t a question. “We’ve just gotten back from our meeting with Professor Tarkin. Seems you’ve made the shortlist for Prefect next year. Maybe even Head Boy, one day.”

Ben sat up a little straighter. Head Boy. He’d dreamed of it even as a child. If they made him Head Boy, maybe then they would see him as something other than an enemy. “And?”

“I agree.” Voe tilted her head toward the rest of the group. “We think you’re really the only Fourth Year qualified enough. Best if we mentor you properly.”

“Why?” Everyone wanted something from him. Slytherins rarely ever did anything from the goodness of their hearts. Not when there was something to be gained. It was a fact of life now. Even Rey had wanted things from him. Knowledge. Training. He had gladly given it, even for just a sliver of her friendship. “What do you want?”

Voe grinned, revealing sharp incisors as white and luminous as her hair. Every year to scare the first years, there was a rumor spread that Voe’s grandmother was part vampire. How someone could only be part vampire, Ben had no clue. “Your mother will not be Minister of Magic forever. All I ask is your support for when I take her place.”

A political move then. “I’m not exactly a person you want on your side.”

The young witch only shrugged. “We will see.”

Ben glanced at the cohort sitting around the fireplace. Tai and Hennix sat across from each other in high-backed chairs, each carefully studying a game of Wizard’s Chess. Beside them on the couch, Grummgar sat like he owned the common room with Bazine lounging at his side. She flicked through radio stations with her wand, a bored look on her face. He’d be hard-pressed to call them friends, but what Voe was offering wasn’t friendship.

“They will make you stronger. And one day, they will bow before you.” The voice in his mind whispered.

“Doubts?”

“No.” Ben met her eye. “I fail to see how this is worth my time. Support for Minister of Magic comes at a high cost.”

There was no doubt in Ben’s mind that Voe could take that position if she wanted to. The Elphronas were an old pureblood family, powerful and wealthy. They had long held seats in the ministry, both before and after the war. Her father was currently Ambassador to the United States.

“I can offer you mentorship, a favor, and access.” Voe’s steady eyes studied him as if she had come to realize that Ben would not be anyone’s prey. This fact only drew her in more.

“Access to what?”

Voe leaned across the table and took Ben’s quill from his inkwell. On a scratch piece of parchment, she wrote out something in thin, spidery letters. Once she was finished, she drew her aspen wand and tapped the parchment. Her charm work settled over the parchment in a silver haze. She stood and offered it to him. Her fingers brushed against his as he took it. “Midnight. Don’t be late. Or don’t come at all.”

Ben looked down at the blank piece of parchment.

☽◯☾

It had taken him longer than he would like to admit to deconstruct Voe’s spell work. The most basic charm to reveal hidden things, Revelio, had no effect on the parchment whatsoever except to make a mark on the corner like a small tally. An attempt at Aparecium, a similar but far more powerful charm made to reveal hidden text, produced nothing but a second tally.

Voe had revealed nothing, so Ben erred on the side of caution and worked with the idea that he had one attempt remaining to reveal the text. His next attempt had to be the right one. One hour 'til midnight, Ben hadn't moved from the common room table. The enchanted parchment and textbooks floated in front of him at eye level. The common room had cleared of First through Third Years for their 11 pm curfew. All who remained were upperclassmen studying, playing wizard’s chess, or quietly speaking to one another.

At eleven, the Prefects sitting at the couch stood to start their nightly rounds. Voe winked at him as she passed with Bazine, Grummgar, Tai and Hennix trailing behind her. Ben stared hard at his books as they passed. He only looked up when Tai paused by the table. The sixth-year stood at an average height and looked skinny in his robes, but Ben knew better. The wizard had a controlled and dexterous strength that made him an excellent Seeker. His mind was just as sharp when it came to potions. His dark hair was closely shaven, nearly bald.

“Don’t overthink it, Solo.”

Ben gave him a short nod and the boy walked off.

Don’t overthink it. Voe Elphrona was not one to play tricks. She could be devious, yes, but she never hid what she truly desired. Power. Prestige. Voe had dealt him a secret and this was her test. Though Voe excelled in all areas of magic she put her talent, it was not Charms but Transfiguration she excelled at. Revealing charms would not work to reveal the text on the parchment because she had transfigured the marked parchment to a blank one.

Ben swept the tip of his wand across the parchment. “Reparifage.”

The untransfiguration spell took effect immediately as Voe’s script reappeared on the page. Any elation at solving Voe’s puzzle vanished as Ben looked down at the runes.

ᛁᚳ ᛒᚢᛖ ᛒᛖᚾᛁᛞᚻᚪᚾ ᛋᛖ ᛚᛁᚠᛏ, ᛋᛖ ᛖᚩᚱᚦᛖ, ᛋᛖ ᛚ, ᚷᛖᚾ,

ᛁᚳ ᛒᚢᛖ ᚩᚠᛖᚱ ᛋᛖ ᚪᛚ

ᛘᛁᚾ ᚷᛖᛋᛏᛠᛚ ᚪᚾᚻᛠᛚᛞᛖ ᚻᚹᛁᛚᚳ ᛚᛖᚩᚱᚾᛖᛋᛏᚱᚪᚾ ᚪᛋᛖᚳᛖᛋᛏ

ᛋᚳᚩᛚᛞᛖ ᚦᚢ ᚪᚾᚻᛁᛖᛚᛋᛏ ᛖᚠᛖᚾᛘᛖᛞᚢᛘᛘᛖ, ᚪᛋᚳᚪ, ᛁᚳ ᚪᚳᚹᛇᚦ

“Accio rune book.” The book flew from his book bag and floated in front of him. He worked quickly as there was less than an hour to translate and solve the message. It was easy enough to translate the Anglo-Saxon Runes to their Latin counterparts. From there, however, things grew more tedious. Words varied from region to region. There were a few words he recognized, however. Lyft often referred to air. Eorthe to earth, as in soil or ground.

Quarter to midnight, Ben grabbed his cloak of Invisibility from his bag and hurried out the common room door.

I live beneath the air, the earth, the water...

Assuming the entrance was in the castle, only a few dungeon halls that ran beneath the lake. The first, of course, being the common room and dormitory halls. The halls beneath the lake were some of the oldest in the castle and rumored to have been there before even the four founders arrived. They were dimly lit by the same green light found in the potions classroom and Slytherin house.

Yet, I live above the fire…

My frame holds what all students seek…

He had never seen a fireplace or torch in the halls beneath the lake. Not in all his time at Hogwarts. Nor did he recollect any paintings. Most paintings preferred to be in the warmer, dryer halls. Ones where they could be seen. In truth, he had never paid much attention. Ben hurried, not bothering to stick to the shadows. The halls were empty this time of night. Not a witch or wizard in sight. Most students and staff avoided this part of the castle.

The air grew colder and colder as he walked deeper and deeper into mostly forgotten halls beneath the lake. He came to a staircase that took him further still. The cold, musty smell in the air was the only sign of how far beneath the lake he was now. It was nearing midnight now, any minute.

“Further still, young Skywalker,” The voice whispered.

Up ahead, came a soft glow of firelight, one he had never noticed before.

He hurried towards it and found that it came from a short hall - really it was more of a small chamber - with no doors, no windows. Just dark stone that curved into an arched ceiling. Five brightly burning flames sat in low stone pillars near the walls. Two on each side and one at the head of the chamber. Above them hung five large paintings, taller than he was.

If ye be worthy, ask, and I shall answer.

None of the paintings were the same but for the fact that they all depicted different items held in ghostly hands. To his left, a sword and a wand. To his right, a key and a book. And in the fifth frame at the head of the room, the ghostly hands stirred a bubbling cauldron.

Sword. Wand. Key. Book. Cauldron.

A sword could represent power- same as a wand. Sought by students, yes. Voe certainly would be one of them. Yet, this was no longer Voe’s puzzle. This was something older.

A bubbling cauldron lived above flame, but did students seek it? What did it represent?

A key. Access. A way to open locked and forbidden items. Doors.

Knowledge.

The book.

Students sought knowledge held within the frame of a book. One could ask and a book would answer.

In the distance, the midnight bells rang throughout Hogwarts’ halls. He was out of time.

If ye be worthy, ask, and I shall answer.

Ben turned to the painting of the book. The ghostly hands held it closed in their grasp. Ben took a deep breath. “What knowledge do you hide?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Ben held his breath. The final toll of the midnight bells rang out. Had he failed? Was he too late?

Before his eyes, the hands parted, letting the book fall open in their palms. The painting began to shimmer as if it were a pool of rippling water. A portal.

Ben stepped through to the other side.

☽◯☾

A curtain of warmth passed over him as he stepped through the portal. The feeling of this magic was not unlike the entrance to Platform 9¾ at King’s Cross Station. Though, t his portal did not lead to a train platform on the other side.

Ben found himself standing on the top step of an amphitheater made of stone similar to the halls he had come from. Four sets of stairs descended towards the arena floor, sectioning off low stone seating. There was no portal behind him, only stone and an arch marked with runes. The arches surrounded the amphitheater and gave support to the room’s domed roof. At first, Ben thought the ceiling was made of obsidian, but a closer look revealed that he was still beneath the Black Lake. Deep beneath. Strange shadowy shapes rippled through the water behind the glass.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.” Voe’s voice echoed through the amphitheater. She stood on the other side of the pit beneath a similarly marked arch. She glanced up at the arch above him and made an amused sound. The corners of her lips curled up in a smile. “Interesting choice.”

“Choice?”

Voe stepped away from her arch and down the stairs into the pit. The low heels of her shoes clicked with every step. Ben stayed at his arch, though there was no longer a portal there. No way to get out.

“Everyone must solve the riddle to pass through a portal. How you solve the riddle… That is the choice. Any of the paintings will reveal a portal if you ask it to.”

He’d chosen the book. Knowledge. Why?

“I’d say you have questions unanswered. Hidden from you. Knowledge you desire to obtain. Yet, everyone is a closed book to you.” Voe stepped onto the floor of the arena. She looked around the arena before turning her gaze back to Ben. “Am I correct?”

Ben said nothing.

Voe took his silence as answer enough. She drew her wand and turned around the firelit arena. “Have you figured it out yet?”

He looked at the stone closer, seeing the cracks and burns that covered the dark stone. The floor where Voe stood, the center of the arena, was painted in fading golden runes and protective sacred geometry.

“Dueling.” Ben stepped away from the arch and started down the stairs into the pit. “Who knows about this?”

“A select few. Those who aren’t given the secret cannot find this place.”

“A Fidelius Charm?” Ben had only read of the charm. It was an incredibly difficult spell that only very powerful witches and wizards could manage. The spell concealed a secret in a primary keeper’s very soul. A place protected by the Fidelius Charm was completely hidden from the world. Unplottable. Not even the most powerful revealing magic could make the place known. The only way for someone to find a hidden place was for the primary keeper to reveal the information of their own will. Whoever gained that information would then be able to find the hidden place. But they had no power to reveal the secret themselves. Now that Ben knew, he would not be able to tell of this place to another soul, even if he wished to.

Voe nodded. “Some of the greatest duels in history were fought in this very room. When dueling was banned, this place was forgotten by almost everyone, except for two Prefects. They created the riddle and hid it all with the Fidelius charm. It’s been passed down ever since to those who… Craved knowledge as you do. Now more than ever, knowledge is power. And if Professor Skywalker refuses to teach us properly...”

“We have to teach ourselves.” Ben finished.

Voe grinned. “Precisely.”

“Where are the others?”

“They’ll be here any moment.” Voe flicked her wand and the amphitheater chamber filled with blue light. The markings beneath Ben’s feet began to glow. Voe stepped out of the circle formed by the runes and flicked her wand once more. From the circle, a wall of blue light formed, cracking with protective blue energy.

Ben bared his wand. It seemed as the new initiate, he would be going first tonight. Soft wooshes filled the room as students appeared in the arches. Tai and Hennix came first. Followed closely by Bazine and Grummgar. Grummgar immediately placed a galleon in Bazine’s hand at the sight of Ben. Next came Cal Kestis, Gryffindor Head Boy, and Merrin Nightsister, Head Girl. Jyn Erso, a Fourth Year Hufflepuff, stumbled in from the opposite portal. Not long after her came the only other one from Hufflepuff, Dorra, a Prefect, through the same portal. From Ravenclaw, Tam Ryvora, Pammich Goode, Mira Syntel.

The ten students filed in quietly. Tense anticipation hung in the air. Ben paced the edge of the ring, heart pounding. No one had yet approached the ring. Each house took a seat in their own quarter of the arena, though there was nothing to designate who sat where. Voe stood on the steps between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, arms crossed. She tapped her wand impatiently against her arm.

“Is he coming or not, Kestis?” Voe turned her steely eyes to Cal.

“Give him a minute.” The redheaded seventh year looked unbothered as he lounged next to Merrin. “He’s got time.”

One last whoosh echoed in the amphitheater announcing the arrival of the final participant. Poe Dameron stepped through the arch. Ben felt his blood heat. Dameron looked around the amphitheater with a smirk.

“Waiting for me?”

“The first and the last.” Voe gestured to the ring. Dameron’s eyes landed on Ben and Ben fought back a small smile as Dameron hesitated. “Unless you’d like to leave?”

Dameron swallowed and descended the steps. He stepped through the ring of blue energy, wand drawn.

“Let the rules be known.” Voe raised her wand to the arena. “No contact. No unforgivable curses. No magic which will cause permanent harm. The duel will begin with a bow and end when one duelist is rendered incapacitated or house heads call for a cease fire. I wish you both best of luck. You may begin.”

Cheers rang from the dozen and a half students filling the stone seats of the amphitheater. From the Gryffindor section came shouts of, “Dam-er-on! Dam-er-on!” Not unlike those chanted on the Quidditch pitch. Dameron ate every ounce of it, lifting his hands to egg it on.

How he’d like to put Dameron on his arse. How he’d like to see the cocky bastard get taken down a peg. Ben raised his wand, pointed to the ceiling as Dameron pulled his redwood wand from his back pocket. Poe bowed first, low and mocking, playing to his crowd of supporters. It seemed that Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had taken his side. The Slytherins, on the other hand, seemed somewhat uninterested. Voe watched with a domineering gaze. Ben dipped his head in a shallow bow to Dameron.

“Focus. Feel the anger, the hate inside of you. Let it fuel you. Control it, young Skywalker.”

Ben stepped into his dueling position, breathing deeply. Poe raised his wand, but neither student moved to fire the first shot. Poe grinned, “So, who goes first? You go first? I go fir-”

Ben flicked his wand, shooting off a nonverbal jinx. Poe leaped out of the way, throwing up a weak protego. Shock crossed the boy’s face, but quickly morphed into focused anger. They weren’t required to start nonverbal spells until Sixth Year, a fact that Dameron very well knew.

Ben was not here to go easy on the Gryffindor Fourth Year. He fired off spell after spell, each slamming into Dameron’s shields. A memory of Rey practicing protego, her grin as she managed the smallest shield, popped unbidden into his head. It was enough to throw him off, to give Dameron a chance to hit back.

“Aguamenti!” A jet stream of water barrelled towards Ben from Poe’s wand. The water hit Ben hard in the gut and knocked him to the floor. All the air in his lungs rushed out of him. Whoops and shouts and laughter echoed through the stone room.

Poe looked towards Voe in the stands. The witch shrugged as Ben stood. “He can still cast. He’s not done yet.”

He was soaking wet now, blood pounding in his ears. Poe shot a disarming spell at him and Ben deflected it. The wall crackled with energy. There was nowhere to go. Poe shifted to his left and the dance began. They circled each other, waiting for the right moment. Blood rushing, Ben pounced first. Poe jumped away from the impediment jinx and fired back a red bolt. Ben pointed his wand at the spell, not even thinking. The red beam hung in the air, frozen in time.

A gasp rippled through the amphitheater.

How?

How was he doing this?

Before he could comprehend, his spell wavered and Poe’s stunning spell hit him square in the chest. Ben flew back and hit the wall of light surrounding them. He fell to the floor, limp. Uproarious cheers of victory filled the arena at the fall of Ben Solo.

He woke as the blue wall surrounding the dueling ring lowered. He pushed himself up off the stone, an ache in his chest. Come morning, he would feel as if he had been hit by one of his father’s muggle cars. Or by the Hogwarts Express.

Poe had already climbed the stairs of the arena to the rest of the Gryffindors, who met him with high fives and congratulations. Ben crossed over to the Slytherin seats, passing Voe as she came down the stairs. She gave him a cold, appraising look.

Ben took his seat near the other Slytherins. Tai was the only one to turn to him. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know.” Ben shrugged and winced. “It just happened.”

“It couldn’t have been the Freezing Charm, could it? Something similar. Perhaps the Slowing Charm. But you didn’t slow it, not really. I didn’t even know you could slow or stop spells, not like that. Are you sure you didn’t use a spell?”

“I’m sure.” Ben couldn’t help but glare at Poe. From the dueling ring, Voe announced the next contenders- the new initiates from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. There was no doubt in his mind that Rey would be chosen to join the club in her Fourth Year. Would he still be here? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been for a while. It wasn’t a future he could imagine. He hoped that he would be, just to see the poor sod who had to face her. He hoped it would be Hux.

“-could try a prior incantation charm to take a closer look at it.” Tai hadn’t stopped talking. “Surely, Professor Kuiil would know something about it.”

“No.” The last thing he needed was for word to get back to Luke or Kenobi or his parents of his wand doing strange things.

“Right. Can’t talk about this outside of this room. Still, very interesting.” Tai noted.

“Very impressive.” Bazine eyed Ben. Her gaze desired to devour him. “Most entertaining initiation duel I’ve seen. Usually, everyone is so meek and timid. Voe always tries to pair up rivals, but,” Bazine sighed, “once they step into the ring… poof. Scared little kittens.”

Grummgar grunted in agreement.

Below them in the dueling circle, Jyn Erso faced off against Myra Syntel. It lasted all of two seconds as Jyn hit Myra with a perfect Full Body-Bind Curse. The young Ravenclaw, who had been trying to perfect her attack stance, fell face first on the stone with legs glued together and arms stuck to her sides. Jyn ran over to her and quickly undid the curse, helping Myra sit up. Blood from a broken nose ran down the girl’s face. A simple utterance of ‘ Episkey’ had her back on her feet.

Memories of the Trophy Room were quick to resurface. He’d been sitting in the common room late that night studying for a test in A History of Magic when Hux barged through the common room door, loudly bragging to anyone who would listen of how he ‘showed that mudblood a lesson’ and left her in the trophy room. Ben had gone to help her without a second thought.

Ben pushed the memory deeper into the dark recesses of his mind. She had been his one and only friend and now he wishes they had never met. She was a distraction now. One that could prove destructive. He wished he could bottle up all the memories of her and toss them away. He wished he could forget.

Rated M - SFW - Read on AO3 - Chapter One - Chapter Three - Masterlist

#reylo #reylo au #ben x rey #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fandom

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

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JSE Fanfiction - By Any Other Name

Summary: Jameson has called Chase his father twice before, but not under the best of circumstances, not when the time was right. A slip of the tongue at the dinner table brings the tally up to three, but maybe this one can end better than the last two.

He had heard it twice before. Jameson had called him his father twice before and while both of them were equally precious to him, neither were in the context he had subconsciously hoped for.

The first had been with his Father’s Day gift, the beautiful silver watch that Jameson had either made or bought for him; Chase had never asked which. It was engraved, the first line being “For the finest friend and father.” It had brought the warmest of tears to his eyes, his heart burning in his chest with the kind of love that he had never felt for anyone but Connor and Brianna. Even so, he had only opened the gift when he was alone, waking up from an intoxicated sleep. Jameson hadn’t gotten to see him read it.

The second had been after he saved Jameson’s life. It turned out that because he hadn’t been around as long as the others, he had no way of knowing how to swim. When Chase found him unconscious in the deep end of the pool, he launched into action without a thought. If Jameson had died, he would have too; he had felt that for certain. By the time Jem came back, he’d been without air for too long. He’d been delirious, curling up against Chase on the deck. He’d thanked him, called him his dad without realizing, and when he’d woken in the hospital he’d completely forgotten. Chase wasn’t about to remind him; he had to focus on his recovery.

Chase was well aware that Jameson thought of him as a father, just as Chase thought of him as a son. He’d told Jameson that to his face. “You’re my son now.” The amazement and joy in Jameson’s face had been everything Chase had hoped for, but he wanted Jameson to be comfortable with it. If he was honest, he would be more than happy if Jameson stopped calling him by his name altogether.

Jameson, however, didn’t seem to realize it. He seemed quite determined to call him every possible nickname except the one he wanted and over time, Chase had to convince himself not to hold him to such standards. There was an understanding between them and that was enough. He didn’t need to have anyone call him by the title to hold it.

Since the business with Jack’s coma had started, however, Stacy had been letting him see the kids less and less. She could sense that something was terribly wrong in their household, despite the facades they put up in their everyday lives, and she didn’t want Brianna and Connor anywhere near it. Honestly, Chase couldn’t blame her.

That meant that it had been a long time since he’d heard it—a long time. He couldn’t bring himself to tally up the months; if he bothered, it would just open up the fissure in his chest that he had worked very hard to sew closed. Therefore he deliberately, methodically worked to keep the longing for it centered in the back of his mind with the door shut. All he could do was enjoy whatever Jameson felt comfortable with giving him and give everything he had in return.

Today had been an incredibly busy day; he’d spent it filming three new stunt videos so he could stock up and they could be coming out on Bro Average even while he was filling in on Jack’s channel and when they’d come to the very last of the videos, he had made the decision to bring Jameson back on. It was the first time he had since the concussion incident and as soon as Chase got around to asking Jameson if he would be willing to try something new again, the youngest Ego had been ecstatic. They needed to make new memories together and it was the perfect opportunity. Everything went off without a hitch and now that they were back at home with the others, Jameson couldn’t stop talking about it. Given that he was the only one in the group who could physically talk with his mouth full, he dominated the conversation.

“I was able to have my first crack at using those firearm contraptions that Chase works with, the ones with the soft ammunition, and after having a few rounds with it I was able to make the farthest shot!” Judging by how fast he was talking, he was just a little excited; his speech slides were practically dancing in midair, drawing broad grins from the others.

“Not even Chase has managed that very often!” Jackieboy reminded him after swallowing his spaghetti, to which Jameson nodded eagerly.

“I’ve never been one for firearms, as you know, but eventually Chase convinced me and it was exhilarating! I do hope I’ll be able to practice with them more often!”

“It would probably come in handy sometime,” Marvin commented offhandedly as he lifted his drink, earning a small warning tap with Schneep’s elbow as the doctor leaned across the table to pat Jameson’s hand.

“We’re all quite proud of you, Jamie,” he assured him affectionately. “Chase most of all, I expect!”

“Of course!” Chase agreed fervently. “I knew he was ready for it—but even if he hadn’t been, I’m always proud of him!”

Squirming shyly at that, Jameson hunched his shoulders, twirling his fork through his meal as his smile softened. “Thank you, Da.”

Marvin choked on the sip of water he was taking, Schneep reeled back in his chair and Jackieboy automatically clamped his hands to his armrests as if to steady himself through a tremor.

As soon as he rechecked his words, Jameson stiffened, the speech slide fading gradually out of sight and draining all the color from his face with it. Clearly he was just as taken aback by it as they were, if not more so. Chase, meanwhile, simply stared at him, his mouth hovering somewhere between a fallen jaw and a trembling smile as all the emotion behind the door in the back of his mind slid through the crack underneath, lodging in his throat as it poured into his chest.

“Jem—” he began, unsure of exactly what he would say, but Jameson’s fork clattered against the plate with a strident clang, interrupting him as the gentleman lunged to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair in the process.

“Oh, look at this—look at the mess I’ve made of my t-trousers,” he hurried to exclaim, looking a little sick. “A full d-day of gallivanting about will do that, I need to go and change s-so if you’ll—if you’ll pardon me—”

“Jamie?” Schneep called worriedly after him, only spurring him on as he all but sprinted down the hall.

Cursing softly, Chase promptly threw his napkin onto the table and scrambled to follow, flinching a little as he heard Jameson’s door slam with more force than was probably intended. He did manage to jostle it back open and maneuver inside before it could be locked, though, forcing Jameson to back up and bury his face in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no—” he moaned, shaking his head violently as his ears turned scarlet.

“Jem, what’s the problem?” Chase demanded directly as he nudged the door shut behind him. “Why’d you run out like that?”

“I called you my da! Oh, heavens, I can’t believe I—I—I didn’t mean to!”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Chase countered. “I’ve told you I consider you a son, remember? You didn’t mind then! What’s so wrong about you callin’ me your dad?!”

“Well, it’s a childish name!” Jameson burst out, flinging his hands to his sides so Chase could see the humiliation, shame and dismay in his face. “I’m not a little britches! I’m meant to—to act with some measure of discretion and decorum! I should have been watching my tongue, it just—it just slipped out! Mercies, what will the others think?!”

“What does it matter what they think? This is something between the two of us,” the older Ego protested.

“Yes, it was meant to be! I never meant to call you that in front of them!” Shoulders slumping, Jameson stared at him, the picture of despair. “They’re so—they’re all so well-renowned and respected, Chase. Jackieboy Man is the city’s hero; they adore him. Marvin has crowds that are in awe of him, who throw flowers quite literally at his feet. Dr. Schneeplestein is one of the best surgeons this side of—anywhere! Patients beg for his treatment.”

“Okay…?” Chase prompted, unsure of where this was going.

Sighing deeply, Jameson lowered his gaze to the floor, his speech slide wavering shamefully as he continued. “They’re the very picture of upstanding, respectable men. I—I admire them greatly, more than I could ever say. How can they possibly consider treating me with the same respect when they think of me as a child? Jackieboy ruffles my hair like a six-year-old boy. Marvin thinks I can’t fend for myself. Dr. Schneeplestein still refers to me as ‘the little one’. And now I compound that way of thinking by calling you my Da.” Swallowing hard, he only glanced up at Chase for a moment before bowing his head even farther. “And even if it was unintended, I-I meant it quite genuinely. So perhaps I am as childish as they suppose.”

“Jem, listen to me,” Chase ordered, closing the distance and latching onto his shoulders before he could recoil further. “You should look up to them, okay? You should! But that doesn’t mean you should try to change who you are or watch what you say around them because of what they might think! I’ve known them a lot longer than you have and I know how they act when they don’t respect someone. That back there? You just surprised them! They were probably more surprised by the way you reacted than by the fact that you said it!”

Jameson still didn’t look up, fidgeting between his hands, and Chase gave his arms a firmer squeeze as he lowered his voice. “Jameson. Jackieboy ruffles my hair all the time. He does it to everyone; he does it to Jack himself. Marvin thinks we could all be better trained; it’s just because he worries. It’s to reassure himself that we’re gonna be safe, not to put you down. And Schneep, sometimes he just gets sick of English and of needing to check his pronunciation of our names. He still stumbles over pronouncing ‘Jackieboy’, so he calls him ‘Jackie’ or ‘the hero’. And you wanna know why he calls you ‘the little one’? Hmm? It’s because that’s what he used to call me, and he knows I think of you as my son.”

Mustache twitching uncertainly, Jameson peeked up at him, and it struck Chase then that Jameson was young—for all of his propriety and tradition, he was startlingly young, a mere nine months old in the community’s time. The vlogger did his best to mask his sudden surge of protectiveness at the realization, though if the hug he pulled Jameson into was tighter than usual, JJ would probably put it down to the emotion behind their conversation.

“You say exactly what you need to say,” he murmured. “If they disagree, believe me, they will give you the respect of pulling you aside and telling you.” He waited then, hoping against hope that everything he had said would get through to him. After what felt like centuries, Jameson’s arms lifted and he hugged him back. Breathing a sigh of relief, keeping his voice soft so it wouldn’t betray the catch in his throat, he concluded, “And I…y’know, calling me that…That’s all I’ve wanted to hear you say.”

Jameson’s hands tightened on his back then and Chase felt what tension remained in him slowly bleed away. He could feel the heat in Jameson’s face return as he tucked it more firmly into his shoulder, his speech slide hovering tentatively behind him.

“…Thank you, Da…Is that—is that the form of ‘Father’ you prefer? Do you want to be called something else?”

Because Jameson couldn’t see his face, the older Ego felt free to let the tears prick his eyes as he laughed, his tone tender. “Any of them. I’ll answer to any of them.”

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #chase brody #jameson jackson #dapper jack #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #fluff for days #feels for days #hurt comfort #father/son #i live for queerplatonic chase and jj #ARE YOU TIRED OF IT YET #WELL TOO BAAAAD :'D #i will make these two feel things until the end of time

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prorevenge · 7 years

Text

This property is HOA-Free.

This is a long one, because it involves a growing escalation of actions. TLDR at the bottom. Some terms are translated because I don't live in an English-speaking country.

We moved houses last year, to the ugliest in the street. The previous owners must have loved Mondriaan, because the front was red/blue/yellow in window frames and door. One paint job, many thankful neighbors and several months later, I get an invitation to a voluntary "Collective of inhabitants", the terms read like an opt-in HOA that you can never leave. A long list of restrictions, and no benefits? No thanks.

Random home improvements continue, the backyard gets remodeled, some overgrown trees get cut down (free firewood for the BBQ!) etc. etc. Then I get a letter from the city. Apparently, I cut down a tree without a permit and they're sending someone to assess the damage. This is a little shocking, as I work with permits for a living and did some proper research before I changed anything, so I give the city a call. Nope, there's no such thing as a permit for tree removal on private property, and nobody in city hall sent this letter printed on city hall letterhead. In fact, that's not even a proper tracking number. They even sent by an arborist to assess the damage, who I refused. And later I got the bill for the arborist, which I kept but didn't pay. A phone call confirmed that the arborist didn't send me the bill, but for privacy reason who couldn't name who did.

When the DIY is finished and I'm moved in, I hold an introduction BBQ for my street. I go invite people and bring a cupcake with the "there shall be a grand feast, all are welcome" stuff on a little note, to make friends with the neighbors. I had already scored major credit by raising their property value with a single paint-job, so I was pretty happy. A few people tell me I can't have a BBQ, because it's against the rules of the "Collective of Inhabitants". I tell them not to worry, I'm not in that. The next day, I get a bill for membership to the "Collective of Inhabitants". This mysterious organization sends out bills without contact info, so I shred it.

Come the day of the BBQ. At 4pm, my doorbell rings. Someone in an official-looking city-hall uniform, and a "city-supervisor" (basically a not-quite-cop who took night school instead of police academy). They heard I'm having an illegal BBQ, and are here shut it down. I ask if they would like to point out which laws I am breaking. Uniform-man (UM) pulls out a 60+ page slab of paper and points out a rule saying it's illegal to burn anything for any reason in your backyard. The book is labelled "Collective of Inhabitants LAWS AND RULES". The city-supervisor (FC, for Fake-cop) just stands there smirking.

me: "That's very nice, but I'm not part of that group, so I don't see how that applies to me." UM: "The rules apply to everyone in this street." me: "Yeah... no they don't. You can't just go around inventing laws. Could I have a copy of that book please?"

I take the sheave of paper and toss it onto a table for future reference.

FC: "So I take it you won't have the BBQ?" me: "oh no. I'm having the BBQ, and I'm going to make it my personal mission to break another rule every time you bother me. So far, I'm 2 down, and 3 to go." UM: "This is against the law! I'll be calling the cops" me: "no, this is against your rules, not the law. And that's 4." FC: "Ma'am if you don't comply, you'll be placed under arrest!" Me: "Ohhhh yes. Shall we call the actual police right now? I wonder who's in the right here..."

I take out my phone and call the non-emergency number. Of course, I'm on hold.

UM: "That's not necessary, you haven't heard the last of this."

They walk away and I hang up.

me: "That's five! Have a nice day!"

The neighbors start showing up, and point out that's the president of the "Collective", and jokingly ask which heinous crimes I committed. I tell them I did nothing wrong because I'm not in the group. That's when my introductory BBQ turned into a torrent of complaints about about the "Collective".

So, during my hello-neighbors BBQ, I got to hear all the horror stories. Leave your trashcan at the street after 8am? Get a fined. Put it out before 10pm? fined. Have a BBQ? fined. Paint your house late? Fined. the list went on. for 6 hours people did nothing but bitch about the CoI, noting that none of the active members were present at this highly illegal party!

As it turns out, my house was the only one in the street not in the CoI, and I had two other bastions of freedom in the next street. Well, I had just moved in, and I owed the CoI another 4 infractions, so I was open to suggestions. Three of my neighbors were extremely fed-up, and seized on this opportunity, perfectly willing to inconvenience themselves to be assholes to the CoI. It turns out this bullshit had been going for about 6 years.

So here's a little tally of actions, none quite Pro-Revenge till the end.

1 - Trashcan are to be placed by the curb no sooner than 10pm and removed no later 8am. Suddenly, I gained 17 trashcans, which I graciously allowed the other people to use, and even keep near their houses for convenience. However, should someone accidentally leave my trashcan at the pickup point, nobody can be fined. 3 infractions to go.

2 - Due to terrible wording, it is not allowed for CoI members to organize a party outside after 9pm. I was suddenly extremely outgoing. I organized at least one party every other week, going so far as to use other people's backyards for them. Being a terrible host, I wasn't present for most of the parties I organized. 2 infractions to go.

3 - I suddenly became a pet owned. After one of the neighbors was told dogs are not allowed to weigh over 10kg, I became the proud owner (that is to say, the dog still belonged to him in every way, except for the CoI) of a Great Dane. I really only saw the dog when it's ownercaretaker too him on walks, but still. 1 infraction to go, it had to be a good one

4 - I get a call from a debt collection agency. I failed to pay my CoI bill on time. I had to pay (some tiny amount) plus a big fine. I ask tell them that if they can provide me with proof of a contract, I'll gladly pay. They promise to get back to me. 2 infractions to go!

5 - Since all major garden work had to be done contracted to a "registered gardener", my husband started a one-man gardening business, since "registered" wasn't defined anywhere, we opted for a 12-euro entry in the phone book (yes, they still exist!). Business was lousy though, he only ever took jobs that landed him 0 profit, even though the subcontracted labor wasn't profitable, he always managed to find local workers willing to take the job, generally they lived in the very house where the work was to take place, talk about good management! 1 infraction left to go.

6 - Debt collection agency send me a letter. With a copy of a contract signed by me. Well, signed by someone who used my husbands last name and my first letter, which is rather odd, since I never took his last name. I was about to rip it up when I realized that forging a signature is an actual crime! HURRAY! I call the debt collection agency, explain that that's not my signature, email them my real signature and they drop it after some back and forth and another in-person visit.

Now, unfortunately, I'm not a lawyer. Fortunately, one of my new neighbors IS, and he was extremely motivated. So, with charges of Fraud, harassment and a slew of others, we went to court. It took all of 10 minutes after reading the evidence. Basically, we had a good case (because we had a lawyer), and the board of the CoI, who was defended by the president (a professional manicurist) went "Look at the rules she broke. There's this rule, and this one, and this one..." to which the judge simply replied "But you forged her signature. She's not a member." "But she broke SO MANY RULES". Repeat twice more and bang the gavel.

The CoI was fined a pittance, and ordered to pay a ton of damages to me and one other non-member. Of course, since this wasn't actually a HOA, they didn't have much, and were thus forced to disband, with the (unfortunately small) fine falling to the board members.

Thus endeth the Collective of Inhabitant, and there was much rejoicing. My only regret is that I still had another infraction I wanted to commit.

TL;DR: Fake-HOA is convinced I'm part of it when I'm not. Assisted my neighbors by breaking as many rules as possible, finally got them disbanded by suing for fraud over a forged signature on their contract.

(source) (story by dragongrl)

#pro revenge #by Tar_alcaran #prorevenge #pro revenge stories #revenge stories #pro #revenge

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