My sin is ever before me

Father Kieran O'Connell of St. Anne's church and parish, New Orleans. member of Vieux Noyes rp

[courageouscami]

Turn a Leaf, Cut a Tree|| ft.Kieran}

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

“Old?? Says the guy who just referred to a campus as ‘hip’.” Cami rebutted with a grin. Her tone was teasing, the smile was genuine this time. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt even marginally amused by something that someone had said. His enthusiasm was encouraging. Although she’d mentioned the possibility of returning to finish her PhD somewhat sheepishly at first, still self-conscious of the fact that maybe it was too soon, Kieran’s reaction was enough to bolster her. “Yeah, I don’t know…” She hunched her shoulders up. The smile was still there, albeit a little shy. “It’s worth a shot right? Nothing to lose? I think reaching out might be a good idea if you can get a hold those contacts. I mean, I’d have to see the department and maybe it won’t be up my alley or they won’t accept the transfer,  or- or it won’t work out for some other reason, but-…” Cami crammed another beignet in her mouth and finished it off with a sip of coffee.

Suddenly, she scooted her chair back and stood up, strolling quickly towards the adjoining living room. Her laptop sat on the coffee table, and beside it, under a stack of printouts, the incriminating, 100-year old photograph. “Speaking of finishing my degree…” It was, undoubtedly, one of her worst segues. But she hadn’t been able to keep the photo off her mind, and was bursting with the need to talk to someone about it - but not just anyone. “I was-… Doing some research, getting nostalgic, I guess.” - She wasn’t ready to admit it had all started with the crazy memos she’d written on Klaus’ session notes - “And I came across this pic…” Cami walked back into the kitchen and stopped beside her uncle, dropping the picture on the table in front of him and leaning one arm against the back of his chair. “There’s this weird-… I don’t know how to explain this or where to begin, but-… But I know these men.” She told him breathlessly, heart hammering in her chest. There was a determined, excitable spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there for a very long time. “I know  b o t h  of them.”

Kieran silenced her nervous babbling with a gentle hand on her wrist. “Cami,” he intoned, a smile hiding behind his lips. “It’s worth a shot. Trust yourself.” He finally let the smile slip free as she shoved her mouth full of beignet. So full of tact, his niece. Many elegant, so poise. And then she was up and buzzing around again, something about research, and Kieran spared a moment to say yet another prayer her his niece. 

O Lord, help her find the peace she deserves, show her your path, and guide her from those who would wish her harm. Quiet her restless mind. Teach me how to soothe her fears and help her put her demons to rest.  I am your servant in All Things, O Lord, I give thanks for your guidance, Amen. 

As she handed him the picture, his heart dropped. Perhaps the Lord just hadn’t yet heard his prayer. There were times, perhaps too many, where Kieran doubted his faith, couldn’t help but to question the existence of a benevolent God when they lived in such a cruel and unforgiving world. That same doubt pulled at him, now, as he looked upon two vampires, who had, in his furious understanding, wormed their way into her life like strangling vines, tearing apart the pieces of her as they did. He didn’t grit his teeth, or clench his jaw, or do anything that would give away his anger. She had gotten free. Didn’t she see? It was behind her now. She could live. That’s all he wanted for her. He just wanted to keep her with him on this earth a little longer, selfish perhaps, but the Kingdom of Heaven was more than full enough, wasn’t it? Couldn’t they wait just a bit, let him keep the last of his family, safe from harm, from hurt, from pain...

Was that too much to ask? Avaricious? Gluttony for the only humanly love he had allowed himself in this life? 

He set the picture down, letting it flutter just enough to flip over, as he took Camille’s hands in his own. “Cami, sweetheart... You and I are both battling the past, trying to unearth our ghosts... It’s always been that way, even when you were a girl.” When she’d railed against the parents who just couldn’t comprehend why a girl who so readily gave everyone the world, would want more from them than a passing interest in her life. When she’d struggled the first time she and Sean lived apart, and then when she began accumulating real ghosts... She’d never been able to just let the past lie. 

“Has it brought you peace? All those answers you seek...When you find them, does it change your life for the better?” He asked softly, genuinely wanting her to consider his words. He didn’t want to hide the truth from her, didn’t want to lie, but more than anything he wanted her s a f e. 

“I don’t know that there is a noggin on this planet I admire more than yours, kiddo, but... don’t you think you deserve a rest? Maybe all the questions... maybe they just end up hurting you in the end. I’m tired of seeing my kids getting hurt,” he admitted, a sad smile trying to lift his lips. It felt manipulative, disingenuous, but that was only the guilt speaking, because it was perhaps the most honest he’d ever been with her. He hated to burden her with his pain, because if he let her, she’d take it all on her own shoulders, but this one time, perhaps it would help her to see more clearly. 

It was time to let New Orleans go. 

[courageouscami]

Turn a Leaf, Cut a Tree|| ft.Kieran}

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

Cami ducked away from his hand as he reached out to tousle her hair. It was pure reflex, just as it’d been when she was a child, and the exchange still brought a smile to her lips. “You shouldn’t have.” She insisted, taking out plates for the beignets. “If I’d known you would I’d have told you not to bother with the stuff at your house. I’d have been back for it eventually.” She wasn’t sure about that last bit, but it sounded nice at least. Cami turned off the stove and poured the steaming coffee out into two mugs. It was her favourite blend; a caramel infused French roast she’d  brought with her from New Orleans. “I miss it… You know?” It’s light, casual in its delivery because this topic is still a fragile one. “It’s been a month, but I still wake up and expect to find myself in the old flat; or to hear the sound of street music at night.” 

A quiet remark as she carries the mugs to the table and seats herself across from him with the smallest of smiles. “It’s definitely fast-paced. I used to love that.” Maybe she still did, maybe the past-tense was unfair, maybe she wasn’t giving her new situation a fair chance. “So many people… So many different faces every day, anywhere you go. Even in the smaller coffee shops. It’s like a daily rat-race. Not enough time for strangers to rub elbows, so that’s nice but-…” Not enough time for strangers to get to know each other either, she wanted to add. Sometimes, Cami  had to remind herself that that was the point. That was why she’d chosen a city like New York in the first place. “But I’ve been doing some research!” She changed topics abruptly, sitting up in her chair and reaching for a sugary beignet. “I’ve been scoping out some of the colleges around here in case I-… You know.” She shrugged a little self-consciously, gaze shifting preferentially from her Uncle’s attentive expression to the cracks on the tabletop. “- In case I come off of my leave of absence and decide to transfer. I haven’t decided on anything yet, of course it’s too early to-… It’s- it’s just a thought.”

He grins as she deftly avoids his hand, with the absentminded grace of a girl who’s spent her whole life doing just that. So much has changed for them, their little family broken and scattered, but maybe alright in the end anyway. He pretends he doesn’t hear that bit about returning eventually, and wonders if maybe he’s being too unsupportive, if she feels like he doesn’t want her there. He hasn’t mentioned her return once since she decided to leave, never vocalized a desire for her to come back, because it’s the very last thing he wants. If she never steps foot in that city again, it will be too soon. He’s even begun to consider reaching out to the Bishop in order to organize a transfer somewhere within a more reasonable driving distance to New York. He’s not sure it’s the right choice to make, not sure how much of that is selfishness, and how much is a desire to support his family, so he hasn’t formalized the request yet. But even if he did, he wouldn’t want to be close enough to Cami to bring danger back to her doorstep. He’d done it once with Sean, and Cami now, as well... How different would their lives of been if he had never made New Orleans feel like a home for them?

“Used to? What, you getting old on me, squirt?” He joked, wanting her to smile, really smile. She’d never know how much he needed her to be happy here. “Hey, it’ll come,” he said softly. Cami was made for people, she thrived on small talk and socializing and just human connection, and she’d never really noticed, but people just... flocked to her. They couldn’t resist. She’d find people here, good people, because they wouldn’t be able to help themselves. She just had that way about her. 

“Cami! That’s great news! You know, I was—” he cut off abruptly, sheepishly. “I was scared the dropping the program thing might be a permanent deal, but you were made for it, kiddo. Always said so. Well, not always, but it’s not my fault you believed you could get to Sean’s brain with a finger up his nose when you were five.” Yeah, he was pretty sure at that point neither one of them were destined for doctorates, but hey, life is full of surprises. “You know, I might still have some contacts at CUNY, if you want me to reach out? We could scope the place out see if it’s as hip as it was in the ‘80s,” he said waggling his eyebrows and nudging her with his elbow. He doubted his contacts from thirty years ago, would be much help, but a little enthusiasm could go a long way with Cami. “I think it’s a good thought,” he said more sincerely. Don’t come home, don’t come home, please, don’t come home. 

He wasn’t ready to admit yet though that it wouldn’t be her home anymore if she never came back. 

[fatherkieran-blog]

The Sky Their Awning | Open

[fatherkieran-blog]

crcscnt:

Hayley didn’t like taking charity from anyone, but she had bite the bullet and give in this time. With the barriers, it made getting essential things ten times more difficult than normal. They were managing to scrape by, but if she could help alleviate some of the strain, the alpha saw no reason not to. She watched as her wolves took the last of the boxes and retreated back towards their small community before she stood up from her place on the log and spoke to Kieran. 

“Thank you for this.” Hayley said softly as her hands slipped into the pockets of her jeans. The wolf nodded as he mentioned another drive, before opening her mouth and shutting it slowly. “I mean, unless you can find a way to knock some sense into Marcel, I think this is more than enough.” The wolf murmured as she looked into the city that lingered behind the pair. “I can’t even get him to meet me. I get him hammering down on the witches, but this? We had nothing to do with, and we’re taking the worst of his grief.”

Kieran nodded stoically in reply to Hayley. He was happy to help, always had been, and wished he could get the other factions to realize that. It wasn’t a side he as picking, it was just treating people with dignity. Were it up to him, it’d never be more complicated than that. “Any time, I mean that. If this isn’t the Lord’s work, well then, He can take my resignation letter,” he joked, though, as expected, it fell a bit flat. 

The topic of Marcel was a trickier one. Charity was one thing, his duty as a Catholic, for one, but purposefully speaking out in alignment with one of the supernatural factions? In Marcel’s current frame of mind, that could be lethal. Now more than ever, no matter how his heart bled for them, he had to put the humans first. “I’ve tried to speak with him, he won’t meet me either. I haven’t seen him since the, ah, the arrangements he made for Davina. He won’t meet with me either.” Privately, he did agree with Hayley. Everything about this spelled war, a foolish, avoidable war. He’d do what he could to prevent it, but he wasn’t willing to risk angering Marcel, not yet. Not until he had a more concrete plan in mind. This would be enough to set him off as it was, but Kieran was not above pulling the God card. “How are you guys holding up?”

[fatherkieran-blog]

The Sky Their Awning | Open

[fatherkieran-blog]

thexstubbornxhale:

Cora reluctantly agreed to pick up a few things what is going to be delivered for the wolves which are cast out from everywhere but the bayou and the Algiers. There is a small convenience store there but nothing which can cover all their needs. 

One thing she misses is the African coffee beans they sell at the market, but the fact she is banned in the first place is what gets on her nerves even more. 

At least doing this–with the comment to everyone that it doesn’t mean she is part of their pack, the young Hale arrives to see Father Kieran. Now Cora knows of him but has had very little interaction with the guy before–actually, scrap that, she’s not had any interaction with him. She just remembers he was willing to not turn away the wolves at his church when the storm arrived once. 

“Any coffee in here?”

It can’t hurt to ask, right?

She lets her fingers gently rummage through a few things before her line of vision falls on him.

“Well, it seems like the wolves are charity cases now, yeah?…I must thank Marcel for that.”

Kieran hefted the box in his arms to readjust his grip, so that he could rummage around and find some coffee. He was sure he had seen... “Aha! How d’ya like Folgers? To be honest, not my favorite blend...” He admitted with a grimace. Were he twenty and much less adept at biting his tongue he might’ve let the ‘well, beggars can’t be choosers,’ slip out. Few people realized just how genetic Cami’s jabber jaw was. But that one was a bit on the nose, even for an O’Connell. 

He sighed at the girl’s tone. He was guessing she was a wolf, or an ally of theirs, though it hardly made a difference to him. Not that he’d tried to convince her of that. She didn’t seem like a girl much interested in changing her mind. “Charity doesn’t have to be a dirty thing, you know. It’s the exact opposite. ‘But give that which is within as charity, and then all things are clean for you.’ But like all things religious should be,” he paused to place the coffee back in the crate it came from. “You aren’t forced to take anything. It’s there for those in need,” he said with a shrug. Perhaps he had merely been more fortunate than most in his life, but he had never understand why accepting charity was considered such a shameful thing. He gave when and where he could, and he hoped that one day, if he needed it, others would do the same for him. It was that simple. 

[fatherkieran-blog]

The Sky Their Awning | Open

Kieran knew he was pushing Marcel’s buttons with this, even if the Vampire King wasn’t aware just yet what he was doing. But he couldn’t not help them. Cut off from people, from resources, and so newly into spring. The wolves could make their own way, they had for years, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use a little help now and then. Hence to food drive. 

“That’s everything for now, but there should be another run either tomorrow or the day after with some more stuff,” he said, dropping the last of the boxes off on the collection of picnic tables somebody had scrounged up when he’d first arrived. “I’m organizing a cold weather drive too. Blankets, coats, that kind of thing. I’m hoping the weather stays nice from here on out, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Is there...” He sighed scratched his head. “Anything else you can think of that you might need? I’ll try to see what I can do...”

[courageouscami]

Turn a Leaf, Cut a Tree|| ft.Kieran}

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

She searched her uncle’s expression keenly on the last stop in the tour of her new home, needing his approval like a sailboat needed an anchor. “It’s okay, right? I think-… I think this good. I mean, it’s a little bit shabby and could use some fixing-up, but yeah… I think it’s good… For now.” God, she was babbling. “And there’s- there will be plants.” She added in after-thought, a hint of desperation determination in her voice. 

Damn it, she was going to make this work…

“Ridiculous pillows and an overpriced throw blanket sounds perfect, how did you know? But nothing beats beignets and your gumbo!” Her voice is still a little over-bright, she’s still hanging onto every tender word he offers her. They’re back in the living room now, and she’s plopped down on the only comfortable piece of furniture in the whole house - the couch. Cami can’t bear to think about how much she’s missed her uncle. It’s hard to stifle the ache and remember that in a few days, he’ll be gone and she’ll be alone again. “Let me make you a cup of coffee. You must really need one after that trip, Jesu-… Jeez. I can’t believe you drove!!”

Shaking her head, the blonde moves into the adjacent kitchen and takes out a few plates for the much-needed comfort food, while setting the water to a boil for two coffees. “How is life back in the Quarter?” She asks tentatively, back turned to him as she eyes the stove-top. “And-… And how is everyone?” She’s really, really aiming for nonchalant.

Her nervousness is palpable, and Kieran’s heart clenches. He doesn’t know how to tell her that she doesn’t need to try and impress him; he’s always proud of her, no matter what she does. He sets the bags down and lays a hand on each of her shoulders, waiting for the babbling to stop and her attention to focus, just like he used to do when she was seven and so angry with Sean that she could barely make the words come out before they were toppling over each other. 

“Cam, it’s great.” He says quietly, solemnly, but with an encouraging smile. And then he gives her a quick squeeze, and lets go, before letting the moment pass. Cami doesn’t need heavy, and he doesn’t either. They need happy. Hence the gumbo. 

He follows her into the tiny kitchen, which despite being a little claustrophobic and a little run down is still serviceable, and sets the bags on the counter. “I’m not gonna turn down a little joe,” he says. He is tired. It was a ridiculous drive, and he probably could’ve paid to ship everything but... That wasn’t the point, not really. He had needed to make sure she knew that her leaving didn’t mean she had to lose everything. Her life before and her life now didn’t have to be mutually exclusive, at least, not where it counted. Family isn’t just bound by proximity, no matter what her parents might think. “’Course I drove, kid. How else was I gonna get you all the crap you left in my house, huh?” He joked, mussing her hair as she passed by. He settled into one of the chairs at the table, and let her fuss, hoping it would help her work out some of her nervous energy. 

But he hesitates when Cami brings up the Quarter. The Quarter is in shambles, honestly. People are dying left and right, and they hover on the brink of war. Kieran is doing his best to appease everyone, but grief refuses to be appeased, and Marcel only speaks in terms of grief or war these days. Everything is spiraling out of control, and it’s his problem, not hers. “The Quarter is the same as it’s always been,” he says eventually, and gives her a grim smile. “A little bit more grim without my own personal ray of sunshine around, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he promises, his tone changing at the end, to make sure she knows he’s not guilting her, not judging her. Just misses her, with no strings attached. “Tell me about the city. Everything is so fast,” he remarks, the cold briskness of the North coming back to him from his younger days. “You forget how fast they move up here after years of lazing around in the Quarter.”

[courageouscami]

Turn a Leaf, Cut a Tree|| ft.Kieran}

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

“ - And this!… This is the garden. What do you think??” Cami splayed one hand outwards and pivoted on her heel to see her uncle’s expression.

She was  t r y i n g .

It was her one month anniversary in New York and God, was she trying. Some things got easier as the weeks wore on; her diary seemed less monotone, there were fewer breakdowns, she left the house a little more. It was… Peaceful. But some things got harder, inevitably. Loneliness ate away at her. Boredom... Hours spent watching the clock, wondering whether time was still her enemy. Whether she’d wake up one of these days, experience another amnesiac episode and find herself one step closer to Sean’s untimely fate. But she was still here, so on the one-month mark, Cami decided she’d reward herself by inviting her Uncle over to see the new place… The old place, really. Way too old, cramped and kind of falling apart, not enough sun for her liking either - but it was hers, and it would do.

… It had to.

@fatherkieran

He was doing his best to channel an old, familiar mask, which, despite its familiarity, was difficult to summon regardless. When Cami and Sean had been little, Kieran had had to learn how to censure his disapproval, and then his disappointment, and eventually, his disgust for his brother, Liam. Liam had never been interested in children, not even his own, and it hadn’t been surprising per se, when he left Eileen, but it had been bewildering. By the time Kieran had realized how much he wanted to be a father, he’d already given that up for the fatherhood of the church. Liam had gotten that chance, and he’d just given it away. To this day, Kieran couldn’t understand how easily the O’Connell’s had walked away from their children. 

Every time he talked to his brother, or his sister-in-law, he pulled on a carefully cultivated mask, one that hid his resentment, and his disappointment, and his bewilderment. He treated them with respect, and kindness, and a listening ear, and tried not to show them how much their distance from their children upset him. He hadn’t always been capable of it, and the twins had suffered for it. It was a mask he hated, and one he never, never used with Cami or Sean. Until now. 

It was slightly different, of course. He couldn’t be disappointed with Cami, not for making the incredibly difficult, but healthy choice she had made. A choice he’d been hoping for since the very day she had stepped foot in New Orleans. Before that even, to when Sean had first decided to enter seminary at St. Anne’s. He’d brought them to New Orleans, taught them to love his city, his people, and then been absolutely devastated when they decided to make it their home, for more than just a summer at a time. They weren’t safe there, and he rested easier at night knowing she was out of the den of vipers he called home. More than that, he had to be proud of her for leaving the life she’d built there because she thought it was the right thing to do. 

But he could tell she wasn’t happy here. 

So as she proudly gave him a tour of her tiny, somewhat cold (and dingy) apartment, he gave her a wide smile, and an arm over the shoulder. He pulled her close with a quick kiss to the forehead, and a squeeze. “This is great, Cam. You can finally rediscover that green thumb you were always trying to convince me you had,” he joked, referring to the myriad of jungle adventures that had occurred in the summers, and irrevocably ended up with trampled vegetable gardens, and very cross nuns. “It’s a bit, ah...  sterile? inside,” he pointed out honestly, “but I was thinking we could fix that while I’m here. I brought up some of the things you couldn’t fit in the rental car, and figured a trip or two to the old Pier 1 Imports wouldn’t be amiss,” he said nudging her shoulder. “Get you some ridiculous pillows, and an absurdly small but expensive throw blanket,” he shrugged. “Bingo bango, you got yourself a home.” He gave her a gentle smile and a nod. “I like it, kiddo. I think you’re going to really come to love this place.” He hoped, he hoped beyond belief it was true. She deserved a home. She’d always deserved a home, and to this day, he’s not sure she had ever found one. She had had Sean, and they had both had him, and that had been enough at one point...He swallowed down the pain of grief and distance, the feeling that both his kiddos had been lost to him somehow. This was good. This was safe, and far enough away that New Orleans wouldn’t touch her here. She could get out, and l i v e. 

“I got you a little something, by the way,” he said waggling his eyebrows. “Well, sorta.” He held up two bags of groceries he’d yet to put down. “I figured since we’re housewarming, no better way to start than a little taste of home. “Poor man’s gumbo, and beignets straight from the Café. They’re not fresh after a 20 hour drive, but... they should still do. What d’ya think, hm?”

[geekorunique]

“In a moment, I’m going to let go and you’re going to turn around and you’re going to walk out of here without looking back. Okay, kiddo? You have to promise me. Without looking back.”

[courageouscami]

@fatherkieran

[fatherkieran-blog]

Love is Mystical || Malia&Fr. K

[fatherkieran-blog]

maliasinstnct:

Me-ta-phy-si-cal. Seriously? Did Father K really think that he was making any sense to her. For some reason he seemed extremely uncomfortable with this entire conversation which was of no help to Malia who was reeling from each word that followed the next which she did actually understand. “So–so what you’re saying is that–Matt wants to see if he and would be good–mates?” 

Her eyes widened, it all began to hit her, what he was trying to get at with all of the physical aspects between the two of them. Though why he was speaking in code was still lost on her. But he finally began to explain what all he meant. Marriage, the human version was not what he was looking for now, but might be? Mates and mating wasn’t something she really saw for herself right now, or ever if she was being honest. Though as time had gone on, the idea of allowing people into her inner circle, her pack, her world, had changed. So, maybe she could be interested in the idea. “Okay, this whole thing is happening really fast. We just danced at Opera House and one other time and kissed and now suddenly we’re trying to mate–is that how it always works?” There was more, to be sure, conversations they’d shared, vulnerabilities they’d allowed with one another, an admiration she held in her heart for him.

As Father K tried to explain more about, intercourse, as he called it, she had to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing at the way he became so uncomfortable. Malia interjected, “Mating.” Her eyes blinked softly as she thought about what mating would actually mean. Malia had overheard enough conversations at school about the ‘sex’ stuff. But what she didn’t understand was how and why none of them ever seemed to get pregnant with a child. She’d gathered that there was a way to prevent that by now, but how she went about doing so was lost on her. Could humans even impregnate coyotes? A question that she was pretty sure Father K couldn’t help her out with as it were.

“Yeah, mating sounds fun. But I don’t want to have a baby werecoyote-human thing. I don’t know how that works but, I do always want to kiss Matt and I always–I just–I like letting my body go wherever it wants and it–it wants him. Always has.” She licked her lips, thinking back to even the first time they had danced together. He may have been uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop her mind from wandering to what it felt like. Being that close to him had awaked something in her, that was for damn sure. But as she found herself lost in thought about that euphoric feeling, an address was suddenly in front of her. Her brain reengaged, recalling the words he’d said in conjunction with it. “You may look like you saw a ghost, but you are pretty good at this Father K.”

Malia looked at the words, pocketing the address, but she was pretty sure she knew where that was. Her eyes lit up slightly, knowing that in her pocket laid the key to allowing her to let her body realize it’s full potential with another, inhibition free. She licked her lips once more. 

His final words had her giggling, “Don’t worry Father K. I am glad you did it.” Her eyebrows raised, “Thank you.” With that, she patted him on the shoulder a couple of times. It was kind of fun to watch the stoic man become so uncomfortable for her sake. She really was appreciative though.

Yeah, mating sounds fun. Kieran just about choked on his own tongue. Of course, only the most carnal of vocabulary would make sense to Malia. Heaven help him. “Yes, um. Baby werecoyotes are inadvisable, I would say.” And then she went on and—nope, no, this conversation was ending here. “Right, well, um, just go to that clinic.” He wasn’t exactly sure what message he was trying to send Malia, but she seemed satisfied, no matter that he was going straight to hell for seemingly condoning premarital sex. 

He watched as Malia left the church, and sighed. He needed a shot of something, something a bit stronger than the sacramental wine on the altar. Good thing he had some Jameson stowed away for occasions just like this. 

[courageouscami]

Confessions || { O P E N }

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

She didn’t realize she was drowning until Kieran found her; pulling her out of the confessional and into his arms. Cami clung to him as if he were a lifeline, gasping between choked sobs that she was trying, but failing, to suppress. She’d never felt so discouraged, so unable to rely on her own mind - on the one thing she’d always prized. Who would she be without her memories, her reason, her intuition? Who was Camille O’Connell without her wit and her gumption, and her surefooted pursuit of the human conscience?...

“I’m scared.” She  admitted, voice breaking once again on the word. “I’mscared- I’m so, so, scared… I don’t want to be like Sean.” And there it was, making her chest ache with the guilt of it the second it was off her tongue. She wanted to be like Sean in every single way but one. He was always the better half, the kinder twin, the one she’d emulated until a single night had marked him immutably and doused his virtues as though they’d never existed in the first place. And as the possibility of a similar fate loomed over her, Cami heard - perhaps for the first time - the urgency behind her uncle’s advice.

Maybe he was right, maybe it was time for her to go…

“What about you?” She asked him, knowing it was time to pull away, but still clinging, betraying the child’s desperation in the twenty-six year old woman’s body. “What are you going to do?” To think of the priest, with the Weight of the World already on his shoulders, facing it alone again day after day - this Church, this chasm, this refuge and this prison - it broke her heart. It broke Cami’s heart in ways little else could.

Kieran squeezed his eyes shut, even as he squeezed his niece, not ready to send her from him just yet. Maybe this was the path he had to walk, to test his ever-wavering faithfulness to the Lord. Always having to pick the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit over the children he had been a father to. It hurt, every time it hurt him, and he struggled to see how such a choice could cleanse in the eyes of the lord, bring him closer to God, because he felt dirty. It felt like betrayal, every time he had to lie, every time he manipulated, or pretended not to grieve. How was this piousness? How was he supposed to wear Cami’s pain like baptismal waters, and not blood on his hands?

She asked what he would do, and he let himself think, just for a moment. Abandoning this city that held all his ghosts, all his sins. Leaving behind the monsters and the legacies and the work. He thought what it would be like, to go back to the mountains of Tennessee, the place he had grown up, the place where the two halves of his heart had grown and blossomed. He thought of that peace, of being able to actually comfort Cami, for once. Of watching her move past her grief and learn to love her life again, even with such a huge hole in it. He thought of what a gift that would be, and how little he deserved it. 

“I’ll stay here, and try to give this city the peace it needs. Try to give Sean the peace he needs.” To give you the peace you need. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. He was your twin, but his fate was his own.” He murmured into her hair, before reluctantly pulling out of the embrace and holding her shoulders. He tried to look as though his soul wasn’t splitting in two, as though he wasn’t just as much a monster as whoever had done this to her. “You’re strong, you’ve always been the strongest O’Connell. I don’t know how much it counts for, but...” He kissed her forehead, and gave her shoulders a little shake as if to instill determination. 

           “I have faith in you.”

[ilghtwoods-blog]

I should never have come back here. This is the town where I fell in love and where love failed us.

[bexmikaclson-deactivated2018072]

@fatherkieran

[courageouscami]

Confessions || { O P E N }

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

Cami leaned her forehead against the screen that separated them, eyelids flickering shut. “I’ve been losing time.“ She began, quietly ceding to the mixture of anticipation and regret that came from opening up to him. Uncle Kieran was the most precious thing she had left in New Orleans. Knowing this would hurt him only deepened the ache in her chest. “For months there’s been this-… This amnesia. I don’t remember things, or I remember them differently than what other people tell me. I can’t keep my experiences straight. Once, I went home after a night-shift and noticed a thin, fresh cut on my neck and I couldn’t remember how I got it. Sometimes I’ll have a conversation with someone and I’ll forget it the next day, or-… Or I’ll be  s o  upset about something and I know I’ve been crying but I don’t remember why.” She thought of Klaus, of talks with Malia. The words began tumbling out, rapid, messy. “Some of my patient notes during sessions don’t make any sense, I mean it’s a wonder I haven’t been fired yet. I’ll read them later and they’re-… They’re terrifying. Incoherent, irrelevant, sometimes even illegible like it’s some big schizophrenic secret and only I have the key. Only I don’t have the key! I don’t keep track of time the way I’m supposed to, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing to help these people - I… I can’t even help  S e a n  because I don’t think about him anymore and I don’t know why-…” She’d stopped pushing Alaric and Stiles for answers on her twin’s murder-suicide case, as if somewhere along the lines she’d just given up on him too. “That was the  e n t i r e  r e a s o n  I was in New Orleans and now, now…” Cami swallowed hard, before a mirthless laugh escaped her. “… Now I spend my time with girls in attics, making up universes where witches are real, in order to escape the fact that my  l i f e  doesn’t feel real anymore.” @littlestxwitch, @maliasinstnct, @sarcasticsxtiles, @felledpsychic

 She’d wanted to start small, so as not to scare him. A gradual build-up, laced with enough discretion so that she could make her point, while leaving the uglier details out of it. Instead, one year’s worth of confusion and heartache spilled out of her, as though a precarious dam had finally been broken. “It doesn’t make sense any more.” Her voice broke in the silence and Cami’s eyes opened, seeking her uncle’s through the darkness of the confessional booth. “Every day I get a little more lost, a little less vigilant, and I can’t deny it any longer! What happened to Sean, I-… I think it’s happening to me. I’m-… Uncle Kieran - I’m  l o s i n g  it.”

It was worse than he feared. He inhaled deeply, the scents he once associated with goodness and belonging now corrupted in his nose and his memory with the scent of blood slicking the floor. It had been too long since this sanctuary had made him feel safe. It seemed to be home to nothing but murder and anguish, and Cami’s tears hitting the floor only added to its legacy. 

Unable to stand it any longer, he left the confession booth and opened the door to her side, pulling her up into his arms right away. For a moment, he just held her as she cried, looking upward toward the vaulted ceiling, as if the Good Lord himself would wipe away their tears. His own were silent and few, but no less pained for it. 

She was being compelled, there was no other thing for it. Once upon a time he would’ve been able to give her vervain, but since the Opera House, even his own avenues for procuring the common herb had dried. He would find out who was doing this to her, and he would make them pay. “Your patients? You didn’t tell me you had started seeing patients,” he said gently, as if trying to lighten the mood, however doomed a goal that was. It was clear Cami hadn’t told him a lot of things. If he had to guess, it was probably out of the same protective instincts that had him keeping so much from her. 

“Hey, hey, Cami, sweetheart, listen to me,” he said, pulling back and holding her by the shoulders. “Listen to me, I know you’re scared, I know, I am too, but, there’s an answer, okay? We’ll find it.” He rubbed her arms gently, the way he had when she had been frightened of the ghosts in the night as a child. “Maybe... maybe it’s this place, huh? Maybe... maybe you’re just too close to what happened. Grief has done stranger things.” He hated himself for this, for even the smallest undermining of her sanity. But if she was already in a vampire’s sights, staying wasn’t an option anymore. Staying meant that he’d be burying another O’Connell, and he’d rather have her doubt herself, than have her dead. “Maybe you just need somewhere new, somewhere not haunted with memories, where you can deal with your grief without... without fixating on it. I know you came here for answers... but maybe...” he sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Maybe that’s the opposite of what you need.”

[courageouscami]

Confessions || { O P E N }

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

Her uncle was one of the most rational people she knew. To hear him confirm her concern only amplified it in turn. “It’s been over two years…  Part of me feels like it’s logical for that pain to begin to numb, but the timing just doesn’t fit. It’s supposed to be gradual, progressive over time, not-… Not this.” She confessed, voice wavering slightly over the words. The screen made it easier to vent her feelings, unhindered by the usual guilt she felt in laying her problems at Kieran’s feet. But part of her feared this would only make it worse… Give them both a reason to stay up at night, with no sensible solution on the horizon.

Kill a demon today, face the Devil tomorrow…

She huddled down in the confessional, shifted so that she had enough room to bring her feet up on the wood. ‘Trust your gut’, he told her, and her stomach churned with the knowledge of all the secrets she’d been keeping over this last year. That was when Cami knew it was time to come clean. She dreaded this, had avoided it, pushed it away for as long as possible. But the missed time, the persistent confusion, the personal memos that just didn’t add up… 

“ — There’s more.”

Kieran’s fists were clenched tight on his knees as he listened to his niece struggle to voice what was happening to her. And he knew exactly what it was. He could put her out of her misery, he could soothe her fears, right here, right now. Put an end to the worry that she was following in her brother’s footsteps...

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t risk her, was too selfish to ease her mind only to put her person in harm’s way. Better lost sleep than lost life, no? He argued with himself, hating every second that he stretched her agony, but unable to make the words that could ease her pain cross his lips. He’d already lost one child, the closest to a son he’d ever get. Surely, protecting Cami, his niece, his last living relative... surely that was the right thing to do? She didn’t have a brother, parents to look after her any longer. She only had him, and what a mess he’d made of it. 

His gut clenched as she spoke, and he knew that any time he tried to buy for Cami had come and gone. It was too late for ignorance to be her bliss. He closed his eyes and mourned for just a moment. She’d never bought that theory anyway. He should’ve known when she’d first come to this city that it would feast on what innocence she had left. It was a miracle he could only ascribe to God that she’d gotten as much time as she had.

“You can talk to me, Cam. Anything. It’s just you and me, kid. We’re in this together.” And they would be, now. In truth. 

[fatherkieran-blog]

Love is Mystical || Malia&Fr. K

[fatherkieran-blog]

maliasinstnct:

“Well how should I know if we’re dating? No one explained those rules to me. I don’t even know what dating means.” She responded, feeling a slight frustration rising within her. While Malia did know there were rules when it came to being in a relationship, she didn’t know much other than that she wasn’t supposed to kiss someone who was already in one with somebody else. Beyond that, she had no idea what any of it meant. What she did know though, was that a lot of intense feelings were involved. She wasn’t sure if she should mix that many feelings into her world when she was already struggling with control of her emotions and thereby powers, as it were. Should she be talking with Father K about that? At the very least, she didn’t want to hurt Matt. And somehow with all the pressure that Father K seemed to feeling, it pressed onto Malia as well. 

Malia pushed out a sigh, “Look, I just go with however I’m feeling in the moment. I haven’t seen him since the night of the Opera House. But I do think he could help me with my studying which I should probably be doing a little more of. We did make plans to do that.” She smiled sheepishly at him, knowing how much Father K and Cami seemed to care about her success. 

A romantic sense? Malia knew what he was talking about, but had never considered herself to have a romantic sense. Her senses were geared towards survival and followed her instincts–but romance? “Romantic sense huh? Well how can I be sure that mine is working properly?” Without an alpha she already knew her other senses were starting to slip, instincts less trustable, did the romantic sense fall into that same category? And how did it apply to Matt? This was already starting to feel like one of those times where Malia was entirely out of the loop of something that was so obvious to other humans. She hated those situations.

But then her eyes felt like they would nearly pop out of her head. “Marriage? Promise rings? Okay, no, no, no, and no. Pretty sure that no one my age is making that kind of commitment.” Besides–he was human. It was nothing against humans. But in the quiet moments when she allowed herself time to think of a future, she’d imagine herself with a beta within the pack she’d one day manage to find. But that meant admitting she was interested in a pack in the first place. Not happening. Her fists clenched, feeling the ridiculousness of her thoughts as they spiraled out of control. They’d danced and kissed and made it home safe together and taken care of each other. It was beautiful. And it meant something? A part of her felt guilty for not knowing that because what if Matt had been thinking that all this time?

“Wait now what kind of precautions–pamphlets? They have pamphlets on relationships? No, no, no, Father K, you’ve done a great job of freaking me out so now you’ve got to explain to me what all on earth you’re talking about?”

Her utter lack of... of context, of exposure to this sort of thing hit him once again, smack in the face, and he sighed, this time with a sad sort of acceptance than the awkward reluctance that was hammering away at him, just waiting for acknowledgement. “I guess the easiest bet would be to just... ask him? If anyone knows, it’s probably him. And if he doesn’t know either, well then, you can just decide together.” If the bishop could hear him now... he’d be out of a church, that’s for sure. “Dating is like... deciding to be partners. You spend time together, try to make each other happy. It’s like a trial period. You see if you both... fit together.” He coughed. “In a purely metaphysical way. Not physically, that, I—ahem—cannot condone.” Right then, moving along. 

He wanted to help her with her studying. Kieran just barely held back the snort that threatened. Back in his less pious days, he’d helped plenty of girls study too. Malia would be the death of him. There was not a doubt in him mind that Malia actually intended to pull out her textbook the next time she saw this Matt. Good. Lots of textbooks, enough textbooks to fit Jesus between the pages. They could be evolutionary science textbooks, for all he cared. “Yes, good, studying. At the library. You should study together at the library.” 

“Malia,” he finally said, eyebrows reaching stratospheric levels. “I’m a priest. I’m hardly the best person to help you hone your romantic sense, though I’m sure yours works just fine. And if it doesn’t seem to be working...well, that’s okay.” He’d always been a fairly liberal-minded priest. Dealing with vampiric monarchies tended to have that effect. “I’m sure this Matt would be more than happy to help on that account as well.” Where was Cami when he needed her? 

“No, I didn’t mean get married, I meant, Lord have mercy...never mind. Marriage is not a good spiritual goal for you at this moment.” Christ— he caught himself and sent a quick penance up to the heavens for his profanity, mental though it was. He was not strong enough for this conversation. “Listen, Malia. According to the Catholic church, I really cannot counsel you on these matters. I’m referring to...” he clasped his hands, and looked up at the stained glass windows behind the altar. The Heavenly Mother seemed to be glaring at him. “–intercourse. Acts of bodily pleasure, which are forbidden outside the sanctity of marriage according to the laws of the lord,” he said quickly, no doubt erasing any holy points he might have earned when he followed with “though many people choose to ignore that. Also forbidden by the church are contraceptive devices which may keep a woman from conceiving a child, and which you may find at this clinic at the address written down,” he said, passing Malia a business card he would confess to the Lord for having kept deep in his desk for moments such as this, but would deny to anyone else. 

“As a priest, I cannot condone such actions. As a mentor, I beg you to go to the damn clinic and speak with a professional. Or Cami.” Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, and encouraged others to do the same. Better than Malia getting pregnant, though, am I right?

[fatherkieran-blog]

Love is Mystical || Malia&Fr. K

[fatherkieran-blog]

maliasinstnct:

“I–didn’t because I don’t know how old he is. He’s in college.” Malia shrugged, but her face scrunched up with all the information now hitting her so quickly. Human relationship nuances had always been a mystery to her. She acted with how she felt in the moment. But there seemed to be so many rules. 

“I mean I’ve been in my human form for long enough now. I know I have to blend in and stuff.” Still Malia was confused, unsure of exactly what all he was getting at. It seemed that he’d meant something by that statement with regards to Matt, but what it was was most certainly lost on the werecoyote. She was content to just continue following wherever her heart led her, like she’d always done. “Filled me in–I mean honestly you’d be surprised about how little filling in that goes on–so whatever you’re trying to say–is no I don’t–what?” At this point she was just completely turned around. 

“Wait, wait—” he said, again. “You don’t know? But you’re dating him? Wait, are you dating him?” There was so much information missing from this equation, but of course, none of it would occur to Malia. He supposed animals... had more instinct-based urges...? Ugh, he didn’t want to think about this. 

He snorted, and shook his head, looking upward for a moment in the vain hope that perhaps the Good Lord would choose this moment to speak to him directly, intercede on his behalf, provide any kind of direction... then again, he had made the same plea when it had come time for this conversation with his niece and nephew. @courageouscami​ He’d had no luck then either. “What I mean to say is...you see, when two people are interested in each other in a more... uh, romantic sense, there are ah... you know, just, some precautions, that you should take? Of course, this is all unofficially, officially, it’s promise rings and marriage, got it? Unofficially, just, ah—” yeah no. This was going about as well as the last time he had attempted this. “Perhaps you should talk to Cami? Or I could find some informational pamphlets. Pamphlets are very helpful, very... informational.”

[courageouscami]

Confessions || { O P E N }

[fatherkieran-blog]

courageouscami:

‘Cami, sweetheart, I-… I’m worried about you…”

She stiffened slightly, trying to quell the guilt that threatened to rise. If she hadn’t noticed the concern steeped into Kieran’s tone, the fact that the pet name had slipped out now would have certainly betrayed the depth of his distress. 

“I don’t want you to worry - not about this. I just want to-… U n d e r s t a n d . And maybe I shouldn’t be questioning it. Maybe this is part of the process and I’m supposed to be going along with it and letting it happen, but-…But...” She trailed off with a shake of her head, before glancing at the divider that separated her side of the confessional from her Uncle’s. "I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. That it shouldn’t be this  e a s y .”

“N-no, we should definitely be worried, I think,” he said, cautiously, the words thick with hesitation. He didn’t have a good reason to give Cami, a way to justify his 180-degree turn around on this very topic. He might be able to do some quick thinking, but he wasn’t the only quick-thinking O’Connell in this confessional. No one was better at seeing through his bull crap than Camille. 

“I was wrong, before, telling you that you needed to move on, that it was time...” He shook his head, and leaned his forehead against the wooden wall just behind the screen, closing his eyes. “If you don’t feel ready to accept the loss of—of your twin, Cami—No one can tell you otherwise, okay? No one.” Abruptly fed up with the screen between them, he pulled it back, and reach his hand through to squeeze Cami’s. This wasn’t a conversation between a parishioner and her priest; this was a niece and her uncle, the only family they each had left. “If you think something is wrong... I think you should trust your gut.” I think I need to have a talk with the self-elected King of Nightwalkers. His city was one thing. His niece was another thing entirely.

[fatherkieran-blog]

Love is Mystical || Malia&Fr. K

“Wait, wait, wait. How old did you say he is?” Kieran asked, putting a hand to his forehead trying to nip this tension headache in the bud. He’s been telling her since she showed up thin and starving she wasn’t a headache to him. But Malia Tate dating? Yeah, he wasn’t even going to pretend that wasn’t a headache. 

“It’s good, ah... that you’ve gotten more comfortable? With your human form.” He had totally blown “the talk” with Cami and Sean when it had come up for them, too. He was a priest. Not choosing abstinence was not exactly in his purview. “Somebody filled you in, though...? Right? Like, birds and bees, and werecoyotes....?”

@maliasinstnct