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#and reminds us that we’re not strong and independent from Him but children in His hands
itspileofgoodthings · 30 days
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so many people have said that as you approach your 30’s things start to fall into place but I don’t feel that at all. the closer I get the more it feels that everything is dissolving and falling apart
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marmaligne · 3 years
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Hello! Can I have some hc with a protective mama Reader with Naib, Helena and Bane. They are my precious baby. I haven't play this game since season 13 and I miss them so much ahhhhhhh 😭😭. Thank you, have a nice day ❤❤🌷 (sr, my English is not good)
✨ Your English is wonderful dear ✨
[Naib Subedar, Helena Adams, Gamekeeper] S/O Is Overprotective
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✨ As a reminder, my works will always include gn!reader unless specified by the requester! ✨
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[Naib Subedar]:
* You had been at the manor for quite awhile now, and were a rather nice person, getting along with most other survivors, and even some of the hunters to boot.
* It was quite surprising actually. You’d walked in the first day with a tough-guy attitude and gruff personality, and you didn’t seem like a very approachable person.
* Then, some survivors such as Victor and Emily started worming their way into your heart. Liam [Lucky Guy] and Norton were some of the first people to offer you a seat at the dinner table, and from then on you were one of them.
* You had scars, though most could tell they were more physical than emotional, from some sidejobs you used to complete for a gang on White Sand Street—robbing people and competing in fights with rivals.
* You quickly learned that most people fought back. Rival gangs always intruded on your own territory, and you were always left on guard, defending the last remnants of your livelihood and your sanity.
* Maybe that’s why you’re so protective over your things. Never letting anyone enter your room, never letting anyone see the pain you hide. Opening up to people enough to make allies, but never enough to show secrets.
* Now Naib…. Naib helped you out a lot. It seemed he understood you, far more than others. For some reason, he was always there for you, watching your back when needed, acting like a shield at times—sometimes literally.
* You never really understood at first, how he seemed to know you so well. From what you knew, he came from halfway cross the world, from Nepal, in India—a child, a soldier, a weapon.
* You guessed his life was rather similar, and assumed he’d come to the manor for quite the same reasons but, it was hard to see through the scowl on his face.
* At some point, you began to recognize the signs, the irritation, the avoidance. You recognized the silence, and the stiffness that came from Naib when he ate and smiled and nodded at their questions. You saw the signs of a brother, somebody just as lost and broken as you were.
* Children in the bodies of adults, forced to live life too fast and too furiously. Damaged and done in, waiting for someone to save them, but too scared to cry for help.
* Unwilling to hurt others again, unwilling to change.
* You grew wary—observant—of him eventually. You joined in more matches with him as teammate, and sat next to him often at dinner. When you noticed he didn’t eat as much, you grunted in concern. When he fell asleep in odd places, you’d bring him a blanket.
* It got to the point where he found out about your help, and tried to dissuade you from wasting your time.
* You never really listened. In fact, your worries only increased. Others might not have recognized, but you saw the signs of fatigue and death written in the lines of his face. You’d seen it every day back on White Sand.
* He gave up on making you give up, tired of attempted persuasions. Eventually began returning the favours—Naib is the type to have a ‘you watch my back, I’ll watch yours’ mentality.
* Everything you’d do for him is returned in kind. It annoyed the rest of the manor to no end because the giving and receiving eventually reached limits unheard of.
* You’d throw yourself on a rocket chair to save him, and next game you’d have your own personal bodyguard tracking your every move.
* He’d never admit it, but he appreciates all you do for him, and hopes you appreciate his efforts in making your life a little better too.
* Though your protective tendencies know no bounds, he hopes you’re a little more cautious with throwing your life on the line for him like that. This is a death game after all, be more careful…. please?
* At some point, the whole manor hopes you two could just get together and kiss it out in some storage closet. If you’re dating, what’s the need to be so consistent in you’re protective tendencies? Then you’ll always be together, which means nothing can ever happen to either of you!
* To be fair, that’s what most of them thought until an incident after the confession, where Naib wouldn’t let you out of the medical ward for a week due to a few hairline fractures.
* Please Naib! Emily begs you to let her use the examination table! You’ve hogged it for 5 days and she needs it to identify the infection spreading on Aesop’s leg! Vera broke her nose! William sprinted into the gymnasium wall and shattered his kneecaps! Please leave!
* You once set fire to a couch because Naib stubbed his toe on it.
* Please stop it you two, Freddy can’t budget for anymore furniture, and we’re fresh out of chairs.
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[Helena Adams]:
* Oops! Oh no her glasses! Aww shucks, Norton knocked them right off her face and onto the hardwood floor. She can’t find them because she can’t see, whatever shall she do?
* [S/o]! Please, she needs your help!
* You come in running with a pair of pliers, five bottles of anti-grease spray, and a box of extra lenses and a screwdriver.
* Oh how wonderful! You fixed her glasses—again—and saved her from the task of shuffling herself on all fours looking for them! Her hero!
* Helena…. praises you to say the least. You’re her best friend, her confidante, her…. big and strong, sometimes dumb partner!
* She adores everything you do for her, and tries equally as hard to do things for you that make your life necessarily easier, though it’s harder with her condition.
* She met you around the same time as everybody else, during your first days in the manor. Really, she didn’t actually know you were there until she bumped into a voice she didn’t recognize and became surprised.
* You quickly learned about her blindness, and made it your goal to form a friendship with her based on your willingness to help her around and get closer to her—she was very kind after all.
* Your protectiveness stemmed from the inherent feeling of a need to help guide and provide for Helena, much like a spouse would… jk, unless 👀….
* At some points, you were berated by her for your incessant protections, most of which made her feel highly dependent, which she didn’t like.
* She liked the feeling of being independent of others and being recognized as an autonomous, capable being. Especially considering what she came there for, it was a blow to her pride to be led around and pushed aside all the time.
* When she revealed these feelings to you, you had surprisingly promised her to cease in most areas of monitoring—however you still consistently check up on her—and settled into the realm of a relationship with her.
* Helena meets somebody who respects her opinions + acknowledges her intellect + isn’t a dingy asshole? Sign her up and slap on a ring, she’s marrying this person (eventually).
* She knows that your tendencies stem from a place of need and want, and tolerates most of them. Deep down, she likes being taken care of by someone who knows she can take care of herself. She really does love you.
* When you’re actually in a relationship with each other, you make sure to watch each others backs, more so you than Helena (because she can’t ‘watch’ per say), but you get the point.
* There was once an incident in a duo’s match where Helena became stranded on the Lakeside Fishing map. The terrain is rough, with piles of fish everywhere, randomly placed boxes and walls, and the barrels are bad enough when they don’t form a blockade.
* Her navigational skills, as good as they are with all her previous experience and staff, couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to move her way around a mess of box paths, pallets, and fishing stands.
* Most other survivors were occupied or dead—it had been a hard match against Jack the Ripper and Guard 26—and she was barred from reaching any form of help.
* So she screamed your name as loud as she possibly could across the map, and ended up attracting the attention of BonBon instead. During those moments where she could hear his clanks and heavy metalloid footsteps stalking towards her, the tick of a time bomb in hand, she heard a screech in the distance.
* A fierce battlecry—you came raging from around a windmill, propelled by William’s football and packing heat with a flare gun. BonBon, now stunned twice, stood there in astonishment, before chasing after you, who had grabbed Helena in your arms, running off at full speed.
* Your stamina bar, indicated by a small tab on your character, was running low, and you wouldn’t be able to run at full speed for another minute or two, having used your ability to buy time. Stopping near a closet, you lean down to place Helena on her feet, telling her to hide.
* Her blood trail was invisible from not actually having run anywhere, and she did as you said, making you promise to come get her when it was safe.
* You gave her a smirk and a small nod, assuring her that you would, before leaning in for a peck on the forehead as you shoved her into the locker.
* If only you could see her flushed in embarrassment.
* Leaving her to fangirl in the locker, you form a decoy in your arms—result of your max rescuer ability—and ran off once more, taking off around a corner just as Guard 26 reached your previous location, chasing after you and ‘Helena’ in hopes of landing two more kills.
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[Bane the Gamekeeper]:
* How does it feel to love a deerman? Good? Okay!
* Bane as you know is a little…. rough around the edges so-to-speak, and he has a lot of edges.
* Once you get around all the hooks, chains, and bear traps, and beneath that creepy-looking deer head of his, he really is such a sweet guy!
* At least you think so. In reality, he still acts like a complete dick to everybody else, and only shows his soft side around you, but that’s because he knows he can trust you with his lands, animals, and secrets! All those others out there only wish to hurt what he—you—have, and he’ll make them pay for it.
* Honestly, in order for him to have fallen for you so hard to have let his guard down around you, you probably would have had to be at your most vulnerable point in life, or a hunter yourself. Like a scared prey animal, uncertain of its future, waiting for something to happen, and somebody to help, or a huge predator, ready to strike out at any moment.
* Once you worm your way into his cold dead heart, there’s no way out for you. He’ll keep you close, as he doesn’t want you to be poached away like his precious animal friends from the past. He knows how cruel humanity can be sometimes.
* When you come to find out about his less-than-kind history, it’s all you can do to pity him. Your sympathy knows no bounds, and you become clingier, though he quite honestly likes it.
* You don’t want what happened to him to occur again, and with all these other traitors and murderers in the manor, you’re afraid of what the others could do.
* You keep to his side a lot more, take walks with him in the garden, and enjoy tranquil picnics from time-to-time on Lakeside. Anything to keep him close to you and away from all the pain.
* Bane can obviously see what your doing, and noticing that your protectiveness doesn’t yet border on the insane, he allows you to continue in your devotions.
* It’s honestly sweet sometimes how you both adore each other so much, even if you know that one day one or both of you will have to leave. Whether it be through death, disappearance, or another means such as escape is a question of time, and one that neither of you know the answer to.
* If you’re also a hunter, than both of you know that while you two are happier now than either of you were in life, that your individual deaths and worths will eventually determine your fates—whether that be a happy afterlife, or an eternity of endless wandering.
* It’s well known that you’ll both disappear the day the game ends, your souls being put to rest as they should’ve been however long ago. Until then however, you’ll continue to hold on to and vehemently protect the relationship the two of you have, and you’ll fight until your soul vanishes from the earth for what you have to remain that way.
* Now, if you’re a survivor, this is where the relationship can be a bit difficult.
* Avidly defending the actions of your boyfriend during and after a match to the rest of your survivor buddies isn’t a very good look for you, or your reputation. It’s been many times where you’ve almost been chased out of the dining room because somebody was pissed at you for costing them the match, or being the only one spared instead of convincing Bane for a win or tie.
* As they say, if you can’t beat em’, join em’. Some survivors, such as William, Kreacher, and Freddy, have more than once suggested that if you loved a hunter so much, you should become one to be with him. Dating the undead almost crosses the line of what is humane. Aesop thinks you’re kind of cool.
* The hunters over on Bane’s side hate you more. Are convinced that you’re the sole reason that Bane goes friendly sometimes (even in matches without you in them), and that your relationship takes away from his brutal and violent persona and nature.
* Violetta and Michiko are the most tolerant of you, mainly because you gifted them silk and a hand fan for Christmas once when they wished for them in their letters.
* All-in-all, basically everyone blames you, but you keep going forward because who cares about all the nasty bi*ches in the world, am I right?
* Once, to prove the integrity and devotion of your relationship, you set Freddy’s room on fire and locked Kreacher in a closet. You looked Bane directly in the eyes and kneeling before him stated, “I have committed arson for you m’lord.”
* You couldn’t see it because of his deerish head and all, but Bane really went “Heart eyes motherf*cker.” on you in that moment.
* You love animals and set things on fire to prove your loyalty to him? Ticket for one please, he’s riding the simp train all the way to the station.
* Just, please don’t accidentally burn down the manor, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible before he disappears.
* Also don’t joke around with your life, it’s too precious, even when you tackle your own teammate or risk getting hit by Ganji’s cricket ball to save him from being stunned.
* He doesn’t want you dying before he does—has already he supposes—or disappearing without a trace.
* You promise you’ll stick with him until the day you finally leave this wretched place.
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✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨
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lovee-infected · 3 years
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I love your characters analyses and I agree a lot with them!My favorite is Kalim and while he's an angel, the way most people go "Dumb innocent baby who is naive to the way of the the world uwu" kinda irks me haha. Yes, he's an airhead most of the time but he's much more perceptive than he looks (he knew about Jamil nature all along) and can use his head and put in hard work when he thinks it matters, aka helping and making other people happy (his dorm uniform and scary outfit story) (part 1)
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PREACH ANON, PREACH!!! The truth has been spoken 👏👏👏 That was amazing and you almost said anything that I meant to say! Characters and even real people who have the same personality as Kalim are often mischaracterized/misunderstood, mostly because people don't know that kindness isn't equal to stupidity. Almost anything that was needed to be said is already here so I'd just go through some of the details to complete it:
(1) Kindness ≠ Stupidity
Honestly...this isn't just about twst, it's about real life. These days many who are just sweet, generous and caring toward others even as they know that they're being abused because of their kindness, are called naïve and stupid. Look, many times they do realize that not everyone around them are worthy of their kindness, but they'd continue to treat them nicely, because it's in they're nature to be kind nonetheless, and this purity and genuine kindness is the worthiest thing one can ever ask for.
After chapter 4, Kalim did understand that Jamil had never been the person he was thought he was, he didn't even consider Kalim his friend. Jamil is still rejecting him but Kalim doesn't care, he even thanked Jamil after the fairy gala event for dancing with him, because it reminded him of the times when they played as children. Someone like Kalim would never forget anyone's kindness towards him, no matter what happens or how things change through the time. If you think about it, we all need someone like Kalim in our life.
Accept it, no matter who we are or how different our taste in people might be, we'd still appreciate an ally like Kalim. Someone who'd care for you and your problems no matter what it is, even as he can't help he'd try his best to at least make you feel better. He accepts criticism and won't fight you even if you call him useless and dumb (Just like when Jamil blamed him in the end of chapter 4), yet he'd still try to befriend you and do his best to support you through obstacles. This will to help people whom he cares for regardless of what they think of him or how much it may trouble him is an absolute treasure, just how many people can be like Kalim?
(2) Kalim shouldn't be compared to Jamil all the time!
A really common way of mischaracterizing Kalim is by comparing him to Jamil all the time: "Jamil is quiet, Kalim is talkative" "Jamil is cold, Kalim is warm and friendly" "Jamil is talented, Kalim is not" "Jamil is thoughtful and wise, Kalim is careless and stupid"...
I agree that Kalim and Jamil are different in some ways, but it isn't okay if we're going to compare him to Kalim whenever we're talking about him! Do we mention Jade or Floyd whenever we're talking about Azul? Do we compare Vil to Rook everytime we're talking about him? See, Kalim and Jamil are two separate characters. No matter how different or close they are, it isn't okay to consider them as nothing more than opposites! Both Kalim and Jamil have independent personalities amd we we don't have to mention Jamil whenever we want to talk about Kalim! His existence isn't bound to Jamil's and he's got a lot we can talk about other than his relationship/differences with Jamil.
(3) His generosity tells us a lot
You may wonder, why is he so generous anyway? Giving up on golden peacocks and diamond stones for friends and even strangers without caring about the financial loss isn't such an easy thing to do. Well let's imagine being on Kalim's shoes for a second:
You come from an unbelievably rich family, and ever since you can remember everyone around you has been treating you like a prince because of your father's status and money. Everyone around you is supposed to respect and treat you like a royaland you can buy anything you can ever wish for, you've got no financial boundaries. But on the other hand, you know that almost everything you've got around you is because of money: fame, wealth and many of your friends.
And if you one day lose all the money you'd once got, what is going to happen to you? What should you rely on? Who will ever even care if you're alive or not if the money that held all of your power and clout is gone? Also, even as he's rich, there are still things that he couldn't ever buy with money. He did say that sometimes he just feels so alone several times, then quickly changed the topic into something interesting and bright. Maybe he does want people to know that he as well sometimes goes through the pain and loneliness, but doesn't want it to seem to dramatic therefore he'd just quickly mention it to let it off his chest, then starts to talk about something else.
That's much and less of the reason behind Kalim's personality, he wants to use his money and attitude to gain what he can't buy with money: Friends. That's right, many of his friends might already be around him just for money, right? But it doesn't matter, he's got enough of money to keep them all satisfied. And if satisfying them is all it takes to keep his friends around him, he's all fine with it. He doesn't mind hoe expensive it might be, as long as he'll get to have nice friends he cares for around him he's alright.
THis generosity with money has found his way to his personality and attitude as well. His nature gravitates him into trying his best to help people out with all he's got. Kalim on his own is one that can get to have hid problems solved easily, there's always someone there to do it for him so he never needs to worry about anything. Perhaps he wants others around him to feel the same? If he had someone to take care of him whenever he needed to, then everyone else as well deserve to be helped out through difficulties just like Kalim was.
(4) We should all try and see through him!
Lets take a look at Kalim's background: Growing up with legit LOTS of siblings, he surely didn't get the attention and family love he deserved to have. Have you ever considered why Jamil was always so important to him while he could've been this close to any of his brothers? Well, that might be because none of his family members wasn't ever even close to being that close to him. Jamil isn't his brother, but Kalim does consider him his brother and best friend, which is somehow showing that even his own family haven't done as much as Jamil has done for him. He could've been poisoned or assassinated at any second, how does it feel growing up in an environment where you know many people already want you dead? Also, have you considered just how insecure and skeptical he coul've became because of having such a fearful past? At this point, someone wit his background might not even dare talk to any of other students let alone making friends with them! Almost any of us could've had trust issues if we'd grown up in the same environment as him!
Come to think of it, you'll see that Kalim is also pretty similar to the well-known hero Naruto! Naruto used to be looked down on because of his lack of ability yet he never gave up, he had a stunning will to turn his enemies into friends, he was considering and never gave up on Sasuke no matter how many times he hurt and turned his back on Naruto, and he never gave up on his goal no matter how many times he lost.
Kalim as well still has a lot to learn to improve and become a stronger magician, and he has strated to work his best and try to improve! It might not happen as fast as we may expect, but someday, maybe he as well would be strong enough for Jamil to be considered his rival and friend.
Another interesting fact to point out is their sense of humor, both Narto and Kalim can be careless at the time and sometimes mess up, and they also have a thing for sometimes laughing at their friends' mistakes (Not in an offensive way) all though they're the one to mess up most of the time. Like the times Kalim laughed at how bad Ace and Deuce's performance was, then decided to teach them how to dance with the help of Jamil.
Just would've been improved much faster if his goal was to be a great magician, but the main difference between Kalim and Naruto are thirs goals. Becoming a great ninja was Naruto's biggest goal, while Kalim's greatest goal is to be a good and supportive friend for everyone around him. Keep something in mind about Scarabia: It's true that Jamil, the vice dorm leader is in charge of most of the tasks and managements; but Kalim's presence is just as necessary for the students! Students need someone understand them, listen to their messenge and care to solve their problems like a friend! With Kalim's sympathy and Jamil's management, Scarabia students would have the chance to improve their best for the sake of their dorm and their very own future. (Though there needs to be some changes, Kalim should be a little more serious in general and Jamil needs to be more considering, but if Kalim and Jamil learn to work as a team Scarabia would stand higher than many of other dorms!)
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For real, this is a school of villains and Kalim is much of a great exception to be in this school. He's legit the nicest character in the game and even MC had plenty of great memories with him back in the Chapter 4. This precious boy doesn't deserve to be called stupid or naïve while all he's been doing so far was to bring everyone including us the players a wonderful time and sweet memories...we need to understand him much better💔
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After that gorgeous sequel rant, would you be willing to share your thoughts on reylo?
Ugh.
Once again, that is the most succinct, easiest, answer I can supply. But it's so short, and that just won't do.
I mentioned in a recent post that Dramione comes in a myriad of disguises. Every fandom usually has at least one Dramione ship, you can usually guess which characters the ship will consist of, and while you might not be able to articulate exactly what about it makes it so damn similar to Dramione you will recognize it on sight.
Usually, to me, a Dramione ship features a strong, independent, female lead who may be varying levels of sexually empowered, varying levels of intelligent (Hermione loves to tell us how smart she is but it's not the heart of the ship), is strong, courageous, and noble who depending on the story du jour might slide into depravity.  The real give away is her love interest, always a man, usually a young man of comparable age, who has the bad boy appeal that's not too bad boy where he often is redeemed to the good side for 'reasons' in the course of the story.
Reylo is such a Dramione pairing.
You don't believe me? Look at the authors who write it, I haven't done this too often myself, but I guarantee you that a not small majority of them will either write Draco/Hermione or will have it all over their favorites and bookmarks. It's the same damn pairing.
But worse.
Because Kylo-Ren and Rey aren't really characters.
"Whoa, hold up!", you say, "That's just slander and uncalled for!" Well, change my mind. Rey Palpatine and Kylo-Ren are a series of character tropes and archetypes thrown to us by Disney screaming "LOVE MY CHARACTERS".
Rey is our noble, very Luke like, hero who is a scrappy desert rat with overwhelming mystical powers only acknowledged when the movies feel like acknowledging them (guys, admit Rey kicked Kylo-Ren's ass every time they fought with 0 training, come on, it's not hard).
However, there is nothing underneath her surface. Her hero worship of the resistance feels dull and given to her because it's expected. Of course Rey likes the resistance! The resistance is great! Sign her up! Rey has been living in the desert at the edge of nowhere for presumably 15 years, I'm shocked she's even heard of the new republic let alone the resistance. Despite essentially starving and only having a home that's a broken down old fighter, Rey saves a random droid. We're not really given a compelling reason of why she would do this, that she has a deep respect for droids/is horrified by their use, really really really hates the random trader she sells things to, or really really really hates the empire (if she even realizes it's them behind the bounty). She does it just so that a) the plot keeps moving b) to show Rey is... noble... I guess?
Remember that even Luke (who I have some problems with as a character) started his journey with more backstory and personality than this. Luke loved the empire and desperately wanted to become a pilot. He was very put out that his aunt and uncle kept saying, "Uh, no, bad idea." Luke was ready to skip town and sign on up for flight academy, he just got distracted by pretty women, er, his sister.
So, Rey is never given a compelling reason to do any of the things she does in the series. Just vague feelings of hero worship. And, of course, the drama over her parents. Just... I feel like Disney took out a hat, put a bunch of pieces of paper with words on them, and drew out the one that said "orphan angst about parents" and said "See, now she's conflicted! What a character!"
So yeah, Rey is your cardboard generic hero who is so generic she's not even a person. She has no hopes, no dreams, no fears, just these vague things we're told as an audience she cares about but never shown in any legitimate manner. Rey likes the resistance and rando droids, Rey imprints on Han Solo as the father she never had, Rey has this thing about her parents, Rey is attracted to Kylo Ren.
And that last one, oh boy that last one. It sold me less on the attraction to Kylo Ren than... oh... I don't know... Palpatine's secret Sith planet of doom. I mean, we all saw it coming, The Last Jedi it was very clear where that was going and then Abrams went for it even harder. But what we had was a series of skype conversations where Rey went from "Gr, you killed my pseudo father!" and Kylo-Ren responding, "Yeah, well he was my real father AND HE WAS SO MEAN" to "Oh Ben, I will fly to you through space and we shall save the galaxy together!"
I am given no reason to believe Rey's change of heart. Han Solo's death just suddenly... doesn't really mean much to her anymore (the man was murdered by his son in cold blood so that his son could feel better about himself). She believes Ben Solo is good now because Luke is a dick (never mind that, no matter what a dick Luke is, Ben Solo still murdered dozens of children and then went on to gleefully massacre his way through the galaxy). We're told there's a Force Dyad, which is um... not this thing the writer's made up because they were too lazy to convince me that Kylo-Ren and Rey would end up together in any organic way.
So, yeah, why does Rey like Kylo-Ren? Because the Force told her too? Because it was somehow all Snoke's fault in a way that's never properly described? (Indeed despite us spending quite a bit of time on Kylo-Ren's decision to remain Kylo-Ren being a very internalized thing) Because we saw him shirtless in yoga pants this one time?
It's bad when that last is actually the most legitimate reason I can think of out of the whole lot.
Now let's go to Kylo-Ren. If Rey is boring and nonsensical then Kylo-Ren is a dumpster fire and non-sensical. The guy reminds me a lot of Commodus from the film "Gladiator", the man is cowardly, vile, and murders his father in despair that his father never will be capable of loving him/passes him over for the throne. Kylo-Ren's murder of Han Solo is extremely similar to the murder of Marcus Aurelius in "Gladiator". Han Solo is a flawed father, trying to make his peace with his son, who approaches him unarmed and Kylo-Ren decides to murder him in order to solidify his place in the dark side.
Only, the films never acknowledge that every action Kylo-Ren takes is horrifying.
We're told "oh, Kylo-Ren exists because evil Snoke corrupted him" but also shown repeatedly that Kylo-Ren chooses the darkest path again and again and again. He "struggles with the light" but I don't see it. His opening scene, he has massacred a village and is torturing a man for information (this is presumably a daily routine for him). In the same film he later tortures Rey for information. He serves on a Death Star which wipes out billions in an instant. He murders his father to feel good about himself. He dresses as a man who was reviled and feared throughout the galaxy, a man who murdered countless children, and a man who dressed the way he did because he was barely hanging onto life, because Kylo-Ren thinks it makes him look like a badass. Think about it, this is like if a fully abled Kylo-Ren is wheeling around in a wheel chair, perfectly capable of walking, because he thinks that Professor X is so cool. Now, replace Professor X with Hitler, this is what the movies gave us.
Yet, the films seem to take it for granted that Kylo-Ren is a redeemable character. He's just lost and misguided, he's really struggling with the light and dark side! They don't just tell us this over and over again (which they do) but also just assume we know it.
And base the entire Reylo pairing off of it. Reylo believed Kylo-Ren could be redeemed, they battle Snoke together, then Kylo-Ren stabs her in the back and continues the assault on the Resistance and asks her to be his Dark Queen (TM). Reylo is shocked and appalled, I'm just wondering what movie she thought she was watching, because that was coming a mile away.
Later, when Kylo-Ren is redeemed, we're never given a reason why it happens. Leia just gives him a nagging, one word, phone call and then Han Solo shows up to go, "Ben, are you going to do the right thing?" and Ben goes, "Mumble, grumble, fine" because there's only an hour left in the last film.
Kylo-Ren, like Rey, is the writers' desperate attempt to create a compelling anti-hero with all the anti-hero sauce we love. They just won't admit they made an overgrown genocidal toddler.
Wow, this turned into why I hate both Rey and Kylo Ren, but, uh, back to the ship. Basically, the films give me 0 reason to ever believe it, and even if I wanted to, even if I said "Alright brain, let's make these characters real people for once", I still wouldn't like it. Because the ship itself is just as flat as the characters. It's spicy but not too spicy bad boy gets together with strong female lead.
I know a lot of people enjoy this, and I won't say it's any less legitimate than any of the weirdness I ship, but I'm not one of them. And the whole thing just makes me go "ugh".
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killianmesmalls · 3 years
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On your comments about Jack: ye-es, in the sense that Jack is a character who definitely deserved better than he was treated by the characters. The way Dean especially treats him reflects very badly on Dean, no question. But, speaking as a viewer, I think the perspective needs to shift a little bit.
To me, Jack is Dawn from Buffy, or Scrappy Doo. He’s an (in my opinion) irritating kid who is introduced out of nowhere to be both super vulnerable and super OP, and the jeopardy is centered around him in a way that has nothing to do with his actual character or relationships. He’s mostly around to be cute and to solve or create problems — he never has any firm character arcs or goals of his own, nor any deeper purpose in the meta narrative. In this way, he’s a miss for SPN, which focuses heavily on conflicts as metaphors for real life.
Mary fits so much better in that framework, and introducing her as a developed, flawed person works really well with the narrative. It is easy for us to care about Mary, both as the dead perfect mother on the pedestal and as the flawed, human woman who could not live up to her sons’ expectations. That connection is built into the core of SPN, and was developed over years, even before she was a character. When she was added, she was given depth and nuance organically, and treated as a flawed, complex character rather than as a plot device or a contrivance. She was given a voice and independence, and became a powerful metaphor for developing new understandings of our parents in adulthood, as well as an interesting and well-rounded character. You care that she’s dead, not just because Sam and Dean are sad, but for the loss of her development and the potential she offered. So, in that sense, I think a lot of people were frustrated that she died essentially fridged for a second time, and especially in service of the arc of a weaker character.
And like, you’re right, no one can figure out if Jack is a toddler or a teenager. He’s both and he’s neither, because he’s never anything consistently and his character arc is always “whatever the plot needs it to be.” Every episode is different. Is he Dean’s sunny opportunity to be a parent and make up for his dad’s shitty parenting? Yes! Is he also Dean’s worst failure and a reminder that he has done many horrible things, including to “innocent” children? Yes! Is he Cas’s child? Yes! Is he Dean’s child? Yes! But also, no! Is he Sam’s child? Yes! Is he a lonely teenager who does terrible things? Yes! Is he a totally innocent little lamb who doesn’t get why what he is doing is wrong? Yes! Is he the most powerful being in the universe? Yes! Does he need everyone to take care of him? Yes! Is he just along for the ride? Yes! Is he responsible for his actions? Kinda??? Sometimes??? What is he???
Mary as a character is narratively cohesive and fleshed-out. Jack is a mishmash of confusing whatever’s that all add up to a frustrating plot device with no consistent traits to latch on to. Everything that fans like about him (cute outfits, gender play, well-developed parental bonds with the characters) is fanon. So, yes, the narrative prioritizes Mary. Many fans prioritize Mary, at least enough that Dean’s most heinous acts barely register. To the narrative (not to Cas, which is a totally different situation), Jack is only barely more of a character than Emma Winchester, who Sam killed without uproar seasons earlier. He’s been around longer, but he’s equally not really real.
I debated on responding to this because, to tell the truth, I think we fundamentally disagree on a number of subjects and, as they say, true insanity is arguing with anyone on the internet. However, you spent a lot of time on the above and I feel it's only fair to say my thoughts, even if I don't believe it will sway you any more than what you said changed my opinions.
I'm assuming this was in response to this post regarding how Jack's accidental killing of Mary was treated so severely by the brothers, particularly Dean, because it was Mary and, had it been a random character like the security guard in 13x06, it would have been treated far differently. However, then the argument becomes less about the reaction of the Winchester brothers to this incident and more the value of Jack or Mary to the audience.
I believe we need to first admit that both characters are inherently archetypes—Mary as the Madonna character initially then, later, as a metaphor for how imperfect and truly human our parents are compared to the idol we have as children, and Jack as the overpowered child who is a Jesus allegory by the end. Both have a function within the story to serve the Winchester brothers, through whose lens and with whose biases we are meant to view the show's events. We also need to admit that the writers didn't think more than a season ahead for either character, especially since it wasn't initially supposed to be Mary that came back at the end of season 11 but John, and they only wrote enough for Jack in season 13 to gauge whether or not the audience would want him to continue on or if he needed to be killed off by the end of the season. Now, I know we curate our own experiences online which leads to us being in our own fandom echo chambers, however it is important to note that the character was immediately successful enough with the general audience that, after his first episode or two, he was basically guaranteed a longer future on the show.
I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure why the perspective of how his character is processed by some audience members versus others has any bearing on the argument that he deserved to be treated better overall by the other characters especially when taking their own previous actions in mind. I’m not going to tell you that your opinion is wrong regarding your feelings for Jack. It’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it, it harms no one to have it and express it. My feelings on Jack are clearly very different from your own, but this is really just two different people who processed a fictional person in different ways. I personally believe he has a purpose in the Winchesters’ story, including Castiel’s, as he reflects certain aspects of all of them, gives them a way to explore their own histories through a different perspective, and changes the overall dynamic of Team Free Will from “soldiers in arms” to a family (Misha’s words). In the beginning he allows Sam to work through his past as the “freak” and powerful, dangerous boy wonder destined to bring hell on earth. With Dean, his presence lets Dean work through his issues with John and asks whether he will let history repeat itself or if he’ll work to break the cycle. Regarding Cas, in my opinion he helps the angel reach his “final form” of a father, member of a family, lover and protector of humanity, rebellious son, and the true show of free will. 
From strictly the story, he has several arcs that work within themes explored in Supernatural, such as the argument of nature versus nurture, the question of what we’re willing to give up in order to protect something or someone else and how ends justify the means, and the struggle between feeling helpless and powerless versus the corruptive nature of having too much power and the dangerous lack of a moral compass. His goals are mentioned and on display throughout his stint on the show, ones that are truly relatable to some viewers: the strong desire to belong—the need for family and what you’ll do to find and keep it. 
With Mary, we first need to establish whether the two versions of her were a writing flaw due to the constant change in who was dictating her story and her relationship to the boys, which goes against the idea that her characterization was cohesive and fleshed-out but, rather, put together when needed for convenience, or if they both exist because, as stated above, we are seeing the show primarily through the biased lens of the Winchester brothers and come to face facts about the true Mary as they do. Like I said in my previous post, I don’t dislike Mary and I don’t blame her for her death (either one). However, I do have a hard time seeing her as a more nuanced, fleshed-out character than Jack. True, a lot of her problems are more adult in nature considering she has to struggle with losing her sons’ formative years and meeting them as whole adults she knows almost nothing about, all because of a choice she made before they were born. 
However, her personal struggles being more “mature” in nature (as they center primarily on parental battles) doesn’t necessarily mean her story has layers and Jack’s does not. They are entirely different but sometimes interconnected in a way that adds to both of their arcs, like Mary taking Jack on as an adoptive son which gives her the moments of parenting she lost with Sam and Dean, and Jack having Mary as a parental figure who understands and supports him gives him that sense of belonging he had just been struggling with to the point of running away while he is also given the chance to show “even monsters can do good”. 
I’d also argue that Jack being many ages at once isn’t poor writing so much as a metaphor for how, even if you’re forced to grow up fast, that doesn’t mean you’re a fully equipped adult. I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but I believe Jack simultaneously taking a lot of responsibility and constantly trying to prove to others he’s useful while having childish moments is relatable to some who were forced to play an adult role at a young age. He proves a number of times that he doesn’t need everyone to take care of him, but he also has limited life experience and, as such, will make some mistakes while he’s also being a valuable member of the group. Jack constantly exists on a fine line in multiple respects. Some may see that as a writing flaw but it is who the character was conceived to be: the balance between nature or nurture, between good and evil, between savior and devil. 
Now, I was also frustrated Mary was “fridged” for a second time. It really provided no other purpose than to give the brothers more man pain to further the plot along. However, this can exist while also acknowledging that the way it happened and the subsequent fallout for Jack was also unnecessary and a sign of blatant hypocrisy from Dean, primarily, and Sam. 
And, yes, Jack can be different things at once because, I mean, can’t we all? If Mary can be both the perfect mother and the flawed, independent, distant parent, can’t Jack be the sweet kid who helps his father-figures process their own feelings on fatherhood while also being a lost young-adult forcing them to face their failures? Both characters contain multitudes because, I mean, we all do. 
I can provide articles or posts on Jack’s characterization and popularity along with Mary’s if needed, but for now I think this is a long enough ramble on my thoughts and feelings. I’m happy to discuss more, my messenger is always open for (polite) discussion. Until then, I’m going to leave it at we maybe agree to disagree. 
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EREN JAEGER AND THE ENNEAGRAM TYPE 6
First of all, to my followers, please excuse me. This account isn’t for SNK but it’s the one I have and I wanted to write this. 
Secondly, I hope this post finds the fandom lol. But if you’re expecting this to be another meta to judge Eren’s actions, don’t waste your time. The enneagram is a tool of understanding, not judgement, and I just wanted to share one thing I appreciate immensely about Eren’s characterization.
Well, why don’t we start with chapter 137? There, Zeke states that life’s purpose is to propagate and it’s core fear is to be extinguished. In other words, from the moment we are born, our organisms need to survive. As humans, we are on our own: suddenly, you gotta breathe on your own; the food is no longer provided. Everything is scary. A baby cries because everything is hard and far away and something in their biology tells them to keep fighting to survive. 
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Now, onto a more spiritual approach. In El Eneagrama de la Sociedad, Claudio Naranjo says that several cultures have their own ideas and tales regarding a disconnection from a primordial state of wholeness. Once born, we become individuals and are separated from the Universe, as if we’re no longer in sync, and something is lost in the process. How can we survive? Our defense mechanisms start with that question. We need love, we need resources and we need to stand our ground in this cruel, but beautiful world. This, on the enneagram, is called “childhood trauma”. 
What I want to do in this post is to break down Eren’s character development through the lens of the enneagram, but for that, I need to give you an overview of the system. It is cruel and beautiful, just like the SNK world. It sees us with care and understanding but it also exposes the harsh truths we don’t want to see. 
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The enneagram, first and foremost, is an ancient symbol, a figure of nine points connected within a circle. There’s a lot of fascinating history to it, but I’m gonna focus on what matters to this post. The enneagram is a personality system that encompasses nine essences of the Universe, and once our childhood trauma sinks in, we attach to one type which defines our worldview. Here’s how each enneatype manifests itself:
Type 1, the reformer: this person seeks to not make mistakes. They are principled and meticulous in everything they do but highly critical of themselves and others. 
Type 2, the helper: this person seeks to be needed. They are proud of their independence and helpfulness but believe they can only receive love if they give first. 
Type 3, the achiever: this person seeks to be worthy. They are motivated and ambitious but shape themselves around what is expected of them. 
Type 4, the individualist: this person seeks to build their identity. They are sensitive and creative but reject the ordinary and focus on what is harder to reach. 
Type 5, the investigator: this person seeks to be a specialist. They are perceptive and curious but withhold themselves and their resources and worry they’re never prepared. 
Type 6, the loyalist: we’ll talk about it in a moment.  
Type 7, the enthusiast: this person seeks to avoid pain. They are joyful and spontaneous but afraid of facing hardships and being swallowed by negativity and sadness. 
Type 8, the leader: this person seeks to be strong. They are fierce and protective but don’t allow themselves any vulnerability and need to be on top. 
Type 9, the peacemaker: this person seeks to be in peace. They’re kind and their inner stability is unshakable, but have a hard time asserting themselves.
So what does it mean to be a type 6?
Some of you might not believe if I told you that Eren is moved by fear. But that’s what it is. The type 6 represents fear itself. It’s our search for safety and support. The person who is a type 6 has disconnected from their inner guide and they don’t believe they have the same capability to make decisions as everyone else. That is more of an unconscious state, which manifests through an overly alert stance. Sixes are always on the lookout for threats and danger, their minds work predicting things that can go wrong, so they can be prepared. In other words, the type 6 fears how imprevisible life is, because they truly don’t find in themselves the compass to the answers they need “in this very moment”. They have to be one step ahead and they have to find outside structures for support, people in whom to trust and who’ll give them the guidelines and sense of balance. Fellowship and loyalty are essential to the type 6 as they look for reassurance in their concerns. 
In Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (1996), Don Richard Riso has described nine levels of development for the enneatypes. They are the path from our healthy, healed state where we’re closer to wholeness again (Level 1) down to our most broken state where we’ve abandoned ourselves (Level 9). 
When we start Attack on Titan, Eren is on Level 6. Here’s what Riso says:
“In its innocent forms, counterphobia is well employed by people to master their fears — for example, children who are afraid of the dark might purposefully go to a dark room to overcome their fear.”
Eren, too, wanted to overcome his fear since he was a kid. He wanted to go outside and face those faceless titans. He wanted people around him to be prepared, but since the Garrison was incompetent and lazy, he needed to be prepared. Grisha seems to be Eren’s first authority figure. From what we know, Grisha allowed Eren to have his own thoughts and didn’t impose anything on him, which is a kind of reassurance. Thus, with his father, Eren felt more understood. 
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Carla, on the other hand, wished for Eren’s immediate safety and cared about him living a quiet life. But that also means she couldn’t understand his concerns, and the type 6 interprets that demeanor as vulnerability — his mother is more exposed to the threat. If the type 6 is a room where nobody is vigilant, the only option they see is to step up and become hypervigilant.
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This relation to an authority is very specific for the type 6 as they search for people and systems in whom to rely on. Since the Garrison aren’t the most reliable soldiers around, Eren turns to the Survey Corps. That section of the military consists of the rebels, those who want to explore the unknown, understand the titans and figure out the best way to fight the enemy. The SC wants to be free, so they become Eren’s next “authority figure”. 
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Riso also says that the type 6 in Level 6 has a more aggressive stance and wants to prove to others that he isn’t indecisive and can’t be pushed around. 
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“They blame and berate whatever threatens them. They become rebellious… and are desperate to latch onto a position or stance that will make them feel stronger and dispel their feelings of inferiority.”
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The type 6 feels inferior because they feel lost inside. Eren, too, knows that the threat lurking behind those walls is much bigger than him and a single human doesn’t stand a chance. And he berates people around him for not seeing what he sees, or for disrespecting his “heroes”.
Eren will be back to Level 6 later, embodying other aspects of it, but let’s talk about the moment he joins the army. 
At this point, Eren reaches the stable position he has been eager for. He is part of a group and working towards his goals, he feels more confident because he’s preparing for the next attack. He has climbed to Level 4:
“The security which groups and institutions provide far exceeds the strength of any individual members...”
As we know, Eren sees his mission to eradicate all titans also as a social responsibility. The type 6 can easily fall into “us versus them” mentality where they are putting effort into something and will trust only the people who understand the importance of it. Eren’s bickering with Jean, as well as his admiration for Reiner starts from there. 
“And even within their own group, average Sixes make it their business to find out who is pulling the weight and who is not... If others are not loyal or committed, it not only makes them angry, it threatens them.”
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Eren talks over and over about how he’s going to join the suicide squad, to the point people start making fun of him. But he is testing everyone’s commitment to the cause of “fighting titans” and he finds people like Jean, who only really want their safe life, as well as Reiner, who is dedicated and understands him immediately. Reiner becomes his new “authority figure”: whenever Eren’s failing, Reiner is there to understand him, to offer help and to remind him of why he’s there.
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“The loyalty of average Sixes for the people with whom they have identified is almost without bounds. They find it extremely difficult to break their emotional bonds, even should they desire to do so… Their love may, in time, turn to hatred but never to indifference.”
That one speaks for itself. It’s exactly how Eren felt upon RBA’s betrayal. He’s in total denial about Annie, while for Reiner/Berthold all he has left is rage. 
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Choosing who to trust is part of the type 6 identity. All of their beliefs, all their inner world is shaken if they are betrayed, because the network they build is how they find a safe space for themselves in the world and how they orient themselves. Annie was Eren’s parameter of fighter, Reiner was Eren’s parameter of leadership. The first backstab is too hard for him to process, we see it all unfold. He can’t admit she’s a traitor, and he doesn’t even have the will to transform and fight her. 
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The second one, however, is embraced somewhat faster and he’s even able to contain himself and play along. But it doesn’t change how deeply it affected him and how vengeful he gets. Years later, that hatred would dissipate, but never to indifference — Eren still feels a need for some closure between them. 
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I got ahead of myself on the timeline, so I’m going to rewind to the moment Eren joins the Survey Corps, which is his childhood dream. Erwin is his main authority figure now and you see that, even though Erwin locked him up, he trusts the guy. As Don Riso explains, the type 6 on Level 4 plays by the rules of his group because he strongly believes in those rules and they bring comfort to their minds. In reality, the SC doesn’t really know what they’re doing. Erwin himself doesn’t know how he’s gonna cross the walls and find out the truth. But Eren is devoted to them. Their cause is his cause and he knows how hard it is but what matters is they’re trying. Besides, they embrace him. They want to reach the basement and want to defend him on the court and want to investigate/use his titan power. Thus, for Eren, the SC is the most solid and welcoming place to be. He’ll do whatever they want from him. 
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However, Eren was about to find out that things were far from glorious out there. Although the Survey Corps work under strict “plans” that soldiers are supposed to follow blindly, Eren can’t just watch people being sacrificed to protect him. Especially when he has enough power to act in a more significant way than those individual humans. But how much control does he have over his own power? Eren can’t answer that, and he feels immensely conflicted as soldiers continue to drop dead. 
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In that moment, Levi could’ve forced him to follow his orders, and perhaps that would’ve eased his mind when he chose not to transform. But the captain is a different kind of leader than Erwin, and he challenges Eren instead:
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And I really appreciate how fitting that is to the type 6 conflit. It’s very difficult for them to accept it, sometimes there simply isn’t a clear path, sometimes it is okay to trust yourself and act on your own. But this is what Eren’s thinking:
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That didn’t turn out very well, did it? At the end of the expedition, Eren is forced to admit that the SC don’t have all the answers and that all his power and training can’t always keep everyone safe. He’s once again reminded of that after activating the Coordinate — not even the power to control titans can avoid sacrifices.
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Ideally, the type 6 can only reach the safety they seek once they allow themselves to move in the chaos with the courage to face it step by step, instead of predicting it. This may sound easy for others but not for them, especially if they are inserted in a reality where the cost of a mistake is lives.  
So we get to the Uprising arc. It starts with the Survey Corps planning the retake of Wall Maria while they put Eren through hardening experiments. Time is not on their side and Eren’s determined to go beyond his limits during the tests. 
“They consequently try to further strengthen their ‘social security’ systems by working harder to be accepted and approved by their allies and authorities… Others wonder if they resent the workloads and pressures they seem to be under, yet Sixes seem eager to fulfill their obligations and duties...”
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Eren’s entire world would fall apart again once he’s kidnapped by Rod Reiss and discovers the truth of his father’s sin. Like I said earlier, Grisha was one of Eren’s authority figures, and even though he was absent, the basement key and the promised truth kept son and father connected. Wherever Grisha was, Eren could still count on the answers he’d left behind. 
That is, until he is hit by a trainwreck of a revelation that his father killed an entire family and sacrificed himself to pass on the titans to him. Eren’s left completely lost, he no longer knows what to think of himself, of the world, of his father.
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He falls from Level 4 to Level 7:
“Sixes become trapped in an unhealthy pattern of self-disparagement and massive insecurity which reinforces feelings of inferiority and worthlessness, a marked deterioration from the indecision and evasiveness we saw [before].”
This shift to a much more confused and self-loathing state doesn’t last long because Eren has his friend’s support for now. Historia chooses to see his worth and let him live. Levi once again challenges him to make his own decision, and Eren manages to save the day.
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As Eren becomes aware of those destructive feelings, he tries to get rid of them by “fighting” himself, in an attempt to put himself back up.
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He realizes he isn’t alone and he doesn’t have to do everything on his own, people around him are also strong enough to stand up for themselves. That helps him return to a more average stage and it could have been the beginning of his growth... 
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Well, if only life wouldn’t have a surprise waiting for him at every corner. 
I hope you’re being able to follow and understand that we all have ups and downs in life. The levels of development represent exactly that, so it is common to find yourself in the same stage in different periods of your life. Nevertheless, after Eren learns the truth about the world and sees his future memories, it all goes downhill for him, no turning back anymore.  
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Here is what Riso comments on the ambivalence of the type 6 on Level 5:
“Sixes begin to follow the narrow path between the expectations of their allies and authorities and their need to resist having any further demands placed on them.”
Eren is overwhelmed by the view of the outside world. He has experienced his father’s memories first hand and it’s nothing like what he expected. No one around him has the same perspective. A lot of self-awareness and self-doubt emerge from the future memories he saw through Historia. Riso explains that on Level 5 the person starts to become more worried about how their allies feel about them. 
“They become skeptical of new views and ideas, feeling that they have already put a lot of effort into understanding the perspectives and approaches they already know.”
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Eren went from “I HATE TITANS ALL TITANS ARE MY ENEMIES DESTROY ‘EM ALL” to “titans are my people and they haven’t chosen this horrible outcome”. And that’s A LOT to process when you wrapped your life around that initial idea. But things are changing even faster, and his friends are talking about how the enemy could be reached out too. This thought needs to coexist in Eren with the clear image he has of the enemy, one that only he has accessed. Add to that how Eren was kept away from the Marleyan prisoners as Paradis also feared some kind of betrayal. As long as there’s people out there against them, he can’t so easily rest. 
Who knows at what point Eren returns to Level 6. The time skip is covered very loosely. But probably when he is feeling so lost that he actually comes to Historia to vent. 
“As in other types, to be functioning in this Level or lower usually indicates that there were extremely dysfunctional elements in the child’s environment.”
Self-explanatory. It’s even hard to talk about Level 6 because it is a point where Sixes start to overthink threats that aren’t that big, but in Eren’s case, the threat is 100% REAL and there’s a world isolating them and wishing for his people to die and throwing gigantic creatures at them. No big deal at all.
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Eren turns to the people who actually understand the urgency he feels. Floch is eager to follow him, while Zeke and Yelena have an actual plan. Eren says he’s acting out of his own decisions, and he sure is, but he has also left it in Zeke’s hands to set the course. At this point, it no longer is a positive thing for the type 6 to have reassurance instead of a grounding support, it’ll only leave them trapped in the current mentality. 
What would be more appropriate would be a balance between rejection…
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…and full acceptance.  
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(By the way, I can’t even know where Historia stands, since she let him do his thing, but I’m still using her here because of how immediate her reaction was, which could lead Eren to think he can’t risk telling anyone else. Unhealthy Sixes are just that paranoid.)
Zeke could have been Eren’s new “authority figure“ if their goals were the same. But more and more the only thing Eren is starting to rely on are the future memories.
Riso talks about how a violent environment would lead to violent actions and “they end up using the same aggressive tactics on others”. And I can draw a parallel with how Eren has been facing titans for so long and watched them take people from him, that he just feels aggression arise whenever he thinks of all the injustice he has witnessed. Same would happen later on, when he sees Ymir’s memories and finally decides to unleash this pain on the world.
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“It’s hard for Sixes to work for something. Instead, their energies are galvanized by being against people and things.”
Despite being highly conflicted and problematic, Eren so far has waited. It’s too hard at this point to fully engage with those dreams, but he has watched things unfold and allowed the Survey Corps to do their stuff and try to contact the outside world. On Level 7, the type 6 is just going through the day with little hope. When the SC reaches Marley and Eren meets the boy of his memories, he can no longer escape from facing himself.
“Tearful and obsequious, they are disgusted with themselves for not having been tough enough to stand on their own two feet, to defend themselves, to be independent.”
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Not only Eren, but Paradis as a whole, have been unable to be independent in a much bigger world, or this is how he sees it after Kyiomi monopolizes the resources and the pro-Eldians group rejects the island. Finally, Eren recognizes in himself the person who would be capable of trampling the kid he currently wants to save, and that leaves him disgusted.   
“They do not necessarily deceive others maliciously, but to escape punishment or abandonment. They believe they may be able to repair the damage they have caused...”
What Riso is saying here is that the type 6 feel the need to hide (themselves) so their loved ones won’t abandon them. And again, in Eren’s case, he has a damn good reason to think his loved ones might not be super happy if he said he was going to destroy the whole world. Let’s not forget they are the people who counted on him to save the world this whole time, and he is the person several people have been sacrificed for. 
All this pressure has brought him this low, but Eren reaches rock bottom when he allows himself to admit he wished for it all to be destroyed. Now, he can no longer face his family (as he would tell Falco) and he has little faith in himself. 
Again, Eren’s paranoias aren’t so far from reality because there is, indeed, a world against them, and that keeps feeding into his anxiety. Paradis’s progress is little and the future is uncertain. When the type 6 reaches Level 9, they can no longer get out of this spiral. They know it’s only a matter of time until the threat comes to them. So they call the threat upon themselves.
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Eren allowed himself to go as far as understanding his enemies and accepting that they’re the same, but with the declaration of war, he can’t wait anymore.
I already told you the reason: the type 6 needs to be able to predict. That’s the very core of their beings, their minds seek to control events. Striking first is their final attempt to make sure they won’t be taken by surprise. Ultimately, they are lost and desperate to find support again. Here’s what Riso says about the type 6 on Level 9:
“They may drop out, abasing themselves as vagrants and living in skid row conditions, thus allowing their health and minds to deteriorate to the point of no return.”
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It almost feels like Isayama has read this book, I swear to God. Yeah, that’s word by word what Eren does. He goes to enemy territory, injures himself and throws himself in war. Despite resisting for so long to a new perspective of his enemies, Eren allows himself to see them with his own eyes. All because he’s desperate to understand his enemy, desperate to understand himself (and what would lead to his decision) and desperate to run away from his friends. He is ashamed of choosing those future memories as his new authority figure, get it? They are the most certain thing in his life now. As much as he waited and as much as the SC tried, they don’t have any guaranteed future and it’s just too hard for the type 6, especially unhealthy Sixes, to wait. It’s impossible. 
Remember I said that Sixes want to feel understood? Well, I think Eren feels understood, to some degree, when he’s among those broken soldiers. They are relatable, more than anyone else. 
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“Neurotic Sixes bring disaster of some sort upon themselves not to end their relationship with authority figures, but to reestablish a protective one. [...] It is also important to notice that neurotic Sixes are masochist not because they take pleasure in suffering as such, but because they hope their suffering will bring someone to their side who’ll save them… as if to say, ‘Punish me, because I’ve been bad. Then you can love me again.’”
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In the mind of the unhealthy type 6, if he can’t find the answers, he can’t be there for his allies. If he fails his allies, he doesn’t deserve their support. But even when he feels he doesn’t deserve it and feels they won��t forgive him, he desperately needs it — the type 6 doesn’t know how to live without support. He is completely aware of his cowardice, he may unleash his despair in innocent people, he seeks punishment for his behavior and hopes for someone to end his pain.
“Unhealthy Sixes are self-defeating persons who are their worst enemies. If they persist in their masochist behavior, neurotic Sixes will drive away everyone on whom they depend. They will be abandoned and alone, the very things they most fear.”
Eren pushed everyone away, but deep down he waited for them to come to his rescue. He knew he was a lost cause, but still couldn’t let go of what he saw as a compromise, a duty to them. His completely cruel and extreme actions are, in enneagram terms, his way to not leave his allies adrift. But aren’t all his actions for his own freedom? I don’t think so, not entirely. There’s a reason the type 6 has been named “the loyalist” — they always, always see themselves as part of a group. And in the end, he saw himself in Ymir, someone who was trapped and waiting to be rescued, understood. Don Riso says the worst part of coming this low is how much Sixes hurt others while they hurt themselves, both because they want to harm everyone who doesn’t understand and to show people the worst in themselves; they want to punish and be punished at same the time.
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That is what I wanted to break down — Eren’s inner process. Yes, the type 6 is an ambivalent, contradicting personality type, precisely because that’s how they feel inside. Other enneagram types don’t escape from their own personal conflicts, that’s also important to point out. The enneagram does not define integrity, people capable of causing great harm exist in all types and no one from type 6 is fated to destroying the world — just in case that isn’t obvious. 
This post is heavy, I know. One of the things I love about SNK are the emotions it evokes and how human characters are. I’m so thankful to have followed Eren’s fascinating journey. He has never hit me as a one-dimensional character as some people claim. To me, Eren is not a chad, he’s not a monster, either. He’s just human. 
I’m thankful for this fandom as well. We’re a total mess but the monthly wait would’ve killed me without the crazy theories and the heated discussions.  
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miyaniacs · 3 years
Text
Exchange - Miya Atsumu & Osamu  SMAU
ROUTE: OSAMU
not a random girl
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smau masterlist  / masterlist / previous
a/n: welcome to the emotional rollercoaster and the pep talk I always give myself ✌🏼
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Starring at your messages you reread your last conversation with him, tears streaming down your face.
 How could you be so blind? So stupid? How could you actually believe he’d choose you over her?
The whole week there was neither a call or message from him. He wasn’t at one of his classes too.
Your friends asked if you knew where he was, but as petty as you are - you just shrugged. You didn’t dare to tell them what you saw, you didn’t want it to be true. Because... there is no way he‘d switch you for some random girl. Osamu isn’t that type of man, he wasn’t a player. 
So you kept up a smile on your face - it’s Osamu, you kept on reminding yourself, he would never just forget you.
The smile was up for about three days, until Atsumu grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the campus after your classes.
“Atsumu? - What are you doing?” You ask him confused. The two of you haven’t talked that much the past days, it still hurt him, knowing that you’ll never be his. But now? After he saw her again - he knew the tables have turned and now he has to put his emotions aside and focus on being your friend.
Atsumu didn’t answer you, instead he kept on dragging you away, away from other people until he stopped at a bench, away from all the others.
He sits down and pats the spot next to him, signaling you to sit down.
He stayed silent. Was he really going to be the one again to break your heart?
“So... you see... uhm-“ he stutters. How should he tell you?
“Yes?” You ask him, actually confused of what is up with him.
“There’s this girl..”
Oh.
“I saw them.” You tell him, the memories from that day coming back all at once.
“Oh. Uhm... “ he again, doesn’t know what to say.
“Who is she? Please Atsumu be honest now.” You say and look directly at him.
“Her name is Emma. We know her since we’ve been children. The three of us have been inseparable. We did everything together, shared all of our secrets, had sleepovers almost every day you name it. But her and Osamu... they always had a special connection. So at some point - they realized that it was love and they got into a relationship with their ... what did she call him ... oh - their other half. For real we all thought they’d marry right after Highschool...” he mumbles the last part and stares at the ground. You don’t say anything, your throat being so tight it already hurts to breath.
“But then... out of nowhere she and her family moved away. Osamu was heartbroken - I’ve never seen him that sad before. Even though they tried to make it work... but eventually they realized there was no way they can still be in that relationship and be happy. They needed each other yes. But they really needed each other ... like ... in a physical way, I swear there was no second they haven’t had their hands on each other. It was disgusting honestly. And I was so jealous, jealous of him finding the one.”, he sighs, “ They we’re sure it was meant to be. To be honest we all knew it was. So they made a promise. And that promise helped Osamu through that time. They promised to wait until they meet again.“
“And what happens then?” You choke out.
Atsumu looks at you, hesitating to answer you.
“Atsumu. Please.” You whisper.
“Originally they planned to get back together and continue what they had...” he mumbles.
The hope you had, is now completely gone.
You saw the way he looked at her.
Non of his feelings flew away over time.
Not in the slightest.
Getting up you started walking, Atsumu hurried behind you, trying to catch up. “No.” You whisper as he catches up with you.
“But Y/n.” He begs, yet you shake your head. You just wanted to be alone now.
That night you cried yourself to sleep again, ignoring all the knocks on your door and calls and messages from your favorite chaotic trio you, also known as your roommates.
Then after two weeks of having no contact to Osamu, he messaged you.
Only nine words.
Nine words were needed to fully destroy your heart.
She wasn't a random girl and you’re now fully aware of it. 
“I am so sorry, but I still love her.”
So why are so stupid? You could have imagine something like that happening. It was only a matter of time until he realized just how fucked up you really been and how much better he can do. You really hoped that with his help, you can get over everything that happened and to be able to trust again. yet you’ve made the same mistake as always. You linked your own happiness and well-being to a guy.
Leaving your phone in your room, you walk downstairs, your blanket. Still wrapped around you. Your vision is blurry - it’s a wonder how you’ve managed to walk down the stairs without slipping.
The second Bokuto hears you walking down the stairs he jumps up and hurries over to you. Kuroo is already in the kitchen preparing a tea and Kenma is lining up all the snacks they’ve brought just for this moment.
As soon as you reach the end of the stairs, two strong arms pick you up bridal style and carry you over to the sofa. With you still in his arms, Bokuto sits down and nuzzles his face in you hair. Kenma sits down and places his hand on your knee: “Y/N... you’re ready now?” He asks softly and looks at you with his big eyes.
“The tea IS ready” Kuroo says and holds a big cup in front of your face.
“I don’t want any...” you mumble.
“Yes you do! This is a special tea I remember my mum making me whenever I felt sad.” He huffs and with a sigh, you take the cup out of his hands. Carefully you take a small sip of the still hot tea. You can’t make out the ingredients, yet you’re immediately filled with a warm feeling that feel like home.
“Thank you Kuroo...” you mumble and a small smile form on your lips. Kuroo simply pats your head and sits down on a cushion in front of the three of you.
They all look at you with expecting eyes.
You open your mouth and close it again. Taking a sip of the tea you try to speak up again, but you just can’t find the right words. Everything you think of feels wrong. It feels so wrong to sit here again and cry over the almost same guy again.
It was stupid of you to assume that after you’ve chosen him, he’d also choose you. And now you’re crying again? Because in your head it was save to say that he’d only choose you too. So you’re really sitting here crying over something you kind of just made up in your mind? No. Your friends always give you support and you keep on coming back crying over a man. Hell when have you become that kind of girl? The twins really fucked you up. You were independent. You haven’t linked your happiness to having a boyfriend. Open your eyes Y/n. You’re surrounded by three amazing friends, who immediately drop everything they’re doing when you need them. Who are down to fight their own friends, just because they made you cry. You managed to go to this college and full fill your dream.
Isn’t this enough?
Isn’t this enough to be happy?
You open your arms and pull Kenna and Bokuto in a hug, while Kuroo smiles and gets up, wrapping his arms around you three.
“I love you all so soo much. I’m sorry for not really being a good friend, while you been the best friends someone could wish for.” Small tears roll down your cheeks and you feel Kuroo’s soft lips kissing your forehead.
“That’s what friends are for.” Bokuto says.
“I promise you’ll be the only guys I focus on from now on.” You laugh.
“ I’m glade Y/n... but can you all let go of me now?” Kenna asks and desperately tries to wiggle out of yours and Kuroo’s grip.
“Kenna! Stop ruining the moment!!!” Kuroo exclaims and only tightens his grip.
You laugh happily and feel your heart lightening.
Yes. This is enough to be happy.
-Meanwhile at Osamu’s shop-
“Emma?” Osamu asks annoyed.
“Yes Osaaa~” Emma looks at him innocently.
“Why do you have my phone?”
“Oh sorry, my internet wasn’t working working and I needed to look something up.” She says and quickly deletes the last messaged sent to Y/n.
“Ahh... you know I have WiFi here?” He says and rolls his eyes.
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taglist (open):  @kathya420 ,  @cuddlesslut , @tchalameme , @haikyuuopalite , @socks-for-a-slytherin , @monni-dionne​ , @kuroos-moon , @captainofmanyfandoms @a-tol-baby , @ensworks  @chaelysian @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy, @shhhlikeme, @bringmelily , @ynjimenez, @thecaptainship @90s-belladonna @laceymorganwrites @kristelmiyathot  @lovedanii @nekoma-hoe , @suna-allie, @imuziawi, @oikawatooruisking, @chisaikuki  , @akakuzumo @writingfreakk @its-me-nico @apollochjld , @isthistherealifeoristhisafantasy, @gaychemicalwater  @achly @maii-flowers ,  @nicolemelton @stfucanunot @chromaticstudio  @stardustanni   @alienvarmint @saucysamu @anime-simp @thirsthourdemon  @shoyosun @peachymelbs @katsukisbabymomma @riniii @wheelzzzies
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captainkurosolaire · 3 years
Text
Heavy Ammunition
Undone from defeat the Ser now turned into a nightmarish knight of a chipped skull. Began moving his lower-extremities. All them prone and wheezing or unconscious. Silv’a stayed above. Like he always was anyway in his viewing beliefs. Glowering with resentment at Judas. Animosity laid with that one the most of all. If his older age and wisdom didn’t act on intuition his plan would all be foiled. By the most plain of the lot. Execution was being readied to be served up as the thawed bone’s arm began skeletal functioning between.
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“Shalt have to disagree with you most unpleasantly. O’ dread, I beseech you to meet red-comet. Often fate can sting like a piercing hornet.” A lute played in string. Before a rocketing crimson-lance of bottom hilt flashfire swept over and sent the puppeted knight being attached and stuck to the wall from impalement. With such a terrifying might.
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An obnoxious laughter of jolly a battle-thirstier. As a Roe came inbound following suit with thuds of heaviness. “It’s so difficult to watch my strength within this dinky little hole.” Even though the chamber’s were massive the building wouldn’t be able to contest with his fire which was unfortunately too risky to use with allies. The last squadron of the Crew showed up in a pair five. A lalafell brought in a beach chair and propped it down and sat down just drinking her juice. Now the reinforced firepower had arrived. Facepalming while enthusiastically screaming Silv’a “Really more?!!?! They just keep lining up to die!” Irritation was demonically being infused as his undoing. This Band of Gold was truly an annoying bunch. One falls another to take front and center. It actually benefited them that they were all distant apart and didn’t all arrive at once. The louder gallant voice of Roe heartily broke a shout, “Kid ya’ alive?” Captain mumbled between the floor. Gark quipped, “Kay.” He'd take that as enough. A viera hopped with a spiritedly step before leaping over and coming between the duo of Noble and Captain. “Sorry we’re late. Me-Me wanted a detour, she insisted… You know how it goes.” She bubbly said. The Lalafell kept slurping on her straw with the continent with a massive slurpee. That terrifying um, ‘little’ menace was quite possibly the most fearsome of all the mates. Don’t refer to her by any tiny stature or treat her as such. Captain just murmured <Mmm-hmm> trying to remind, of mortally bleeding out over here and in agony. The short Viera huffed her puffy cheeks before recognizing what she needed to do and began grabbing the duo by the wrists to drag into a corner away from the center again and get into obstruction. “I’ll have to decline you. Those sinners haven’t suffered enough. I’ve grown to want them to see me in succeeding with all this resistance, have a taste and join them would you!” An intense fire came hurling at the preoccupied bunny who’s pink hue sparked defenselessly. Water came raining and doused it effortlessly. Two prayer hands together came with a Sea-Maiden looking Roe woman now intervening. “Gark. I shall contend with the Caster, would you please rid the Knight?” A bone crackling thud of his own collar bone snapped out a muscle knot, “Gladly m’lady.” He’d chivalrously advance with clacks of chain-mail, draconic by the etching making. The material would make the most experienced blacksmith quite impressed. Right when Silv’a nearly cradled this end he foolishly met a dinging bell signaling this was still to begin. Among the Crew. There was a structure of power-hierarchy when it came to independence and also those who excelled better in support or team. Each matey held their own extreme weaknesses and flaws whether personality, or, ability. Some weren’t yet pushed or aware of them. Whilst others with their age nearly were incomprehensible with their battle prowess and room commandment. Far above even their own Captain escapades. Weak or strong it mattered little for the same course required all but the tentatively steer of all roles aboard that’s what ruled reign to spoil in all the hoards. Sheik Sphere jotted down this entertaining showdown for the records. Never losing his passion to share and kindle this with fellow passionate readers or to sing it among those of all. While he never combated harm. He had a unique unwavering charisma to avoid it personally remaining seen as too neutral. This was literature fascinating to savor! The matron Sea Wolf gingerly came advancing in against this most heinous. Her white-shark spectacles were softened with a brow. Almost showing pity for this demon. By some strange sensation she felt too eerily familiar as if something was buried beneath every depth of the surface. Trying to explore it would certainly risk drowning and being sunken to the bottomless sea. Her posing pray set him off, radiating apologies. His demonical outlook would handle this manner. One swift hand motion he’d unleash a wall of icy that rapidly drew forth her aspected water was meaningless to his mastery. While it may be true. Elastically watering the most manipulatively potent she stacked and built a tide large enough to withhold density and overly reach bigger heights than his initial walls. Closing her eyes. “Thine trencherman born salt to sea, I call upon thee, children of the deep!” Intense powerful glowering of her irises came as the ice and water connected, freezing at the surface and spreading rapidly. Before trident’s broke through as two conjured Sahagin Egi’s came bellowing out with their own glowing golden eyes.   Their flipper leave the containment, and puncture the demon from midair in the shoulder each. One more elementally made, while the other was scale made and naturally. “Ravage thou land-savages who bring equal pain throughout the sea.” Each of them growing empowered by her boisterous wishes. “He who hurts until one welts, deserves the tide’s sweeping without remorse.” They kept piercing the demonical wizard over and over unrelentingly with a feverishness. His immortality made quite resilient. Organs constantly being gushingly punctured like tarp bait flapping over a boat. Each erupting step of blood from his puncturing and mouth.
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He found wherewithal to grapple their trident’s and conduct electricity attempting to fry the Sahagin from the link as the one who was more watery based let go and vaporized it was rapidly reformulating. The scale seemed null too as it didn’t let up. Before lifting up the kabob pierced the treacherous foe and let him go upstream into the ceiling from a non relenting geyser. Pinned he was struggling to contend with this might, unable to get his counter in. Her magic didn’t grow weaker, it was continuously building up and getting more vast. She fearsome conveyed as a magnificent threat he identified. Ever overpowering wrath he began trying to loosen it but he wasn’t finding success. To attempt to resist the current was a foul law he wouldn’t find. He brought upon his ice only for the temperature of the water to become steaming hot. The Inside and entire body was screeching in boiling water. A merging water induced egi found it’s regeneration and binding into the same waters only able to reformulate acidic properties, make the water start melting flesh. Reaching out his fingers he’d point outwardly in the distance before a humongous fallen column pillar broken in half came wedging between him and the hard place and then engulfing the geyser’s source using telekinesis. Which gave destruction to the combined aetherial Egi. Shaking completely before charging at the other Scaly-Egi before the other could pursue. Grappling it’s face and soaring himself with a push of heel electrical aether he’d return that favor of being dismantled against the wall. A trident once again snagged into him and linked the duo close. Regeneration was slow because of the acid as equally contesting the forces. His own palm began to get the same from grappling the jaws of this beastkin. Flame came out of SIlv’a as a response as they would wager against each other two destructiveness. The trident began again creating a vortex of water trying to push and repel him away from the wall or once again setting Silv’a back but his demoniacal fury became even more enlarged and massively maddened.                         (Previous) << (Voidal Relics) >> (Next)
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thelullabyer12 · 3 years
Text
Rät
I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology high quality complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything Just like a daddy should
Almost everything Tommy knew, he learnt from Wilbur. How to make speeches, how to strategize, how to fight. They rebelled against Dream to make potions. They rebelled so everyone could benefit. They rebelled against tyranny. He would do anything for his brother. Tommy went to war with Wilbur but only found out what he lost afterwords. Sacrifices for everyone, put the burden on the children who fought for the land. The foundation of L’Manberg was blood, after all. 
And you were beautiful and vulnerable And power and success God damn I fell for you your flamethrowers Your tunnels and your tech I studied code because I wanted To do something great like you And the real tragedy is half of it was true
Wilbur was powerful and successful. He was general of an army, fighting against a nation much larger than his own. Tommy watched everything the brown haired man did. He wanted to be just like Wilbur. He wanted to be as charismatic and influential as his brother. He wanted to be great, to do great things. He ended up sticking with his brother to the end. He did end up doing great things, both of them. Both brothers ended up seeing their hard work blow up in front of them. Only one had a choice. 
But we've been fucking mean We're elitist We're as flawed as any Church And this faux rad west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I trusted you But it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fucking train
They ran for president. Tommy would have been Wilbur’s vice. The ones who fought with Wilbur, the ones loyal to him, would have been high ranking in their new government. Tommy trusted Wilbur. When they were exiled, Tommy stuck with his brother. The new government was flawed. Schlatt was a horrible president. He was drunk and abusive but he won the game of politics. Tommy hated him. He and Wilbur formed Pogtopia. He would have followed Wilbur to hell. Eventually, he did. 
I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I feel so stupid I feel so used I feel so used
He loved his brother. Tommy felt broken when he died. As he saw the crater where his nation once stood, as he fought for what little remained, he loved his brother. He wondered if, at the time of his death, there was enough of Wilbur to love Tommy back. He fought for L’Manberg. He fought for his friends. He wondered what Wilbur fought for. He wondered how much was lies. He wondered how much his general used his blind loyalty. He still loved his brother. That’s what hurt the most. 
I was your baby Your first born The hot girl in your comp sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream Bred born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards Rocket ships Pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are
Sapnap and George were left alone. The Dream Team. The ideal friendship. They were everything. They were strong and powerful. Two were genuine. Their leader wasn’t. The Dream Team fell apart. They should have seen the warning signs. They should have noticed Dream faking everything. They should have noticed the power hungriness. They watched the stars and fell into his trap. They should have noticed Dream’s manipulation. They were everything and then they were nothing. 
When I said take me to the moon I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky It meant all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just One more piece of land for you to colonize For us to turn to sand
Dream ruled the SMP. He wasn’t a king or a dictator but he was the leader. He was a good leader for so long. Not all agreed. When Wilbur declared independence, George and Sapnap were the first to take Dream’s side. All three were ambitious and believed they could win. When the first battle came, George realized he was fighting and hurting his friends. Sapnap realized he was fighting children who didn’t truly know what war meant. Neither wanted the war to continue. Dream didn’t either. The war ended quickly. There were smaller battles, smaller wars. Nothing that involved a whole nation. No one in the Dream Team wanted that. As they kept upgrading, they watched L’Manberg have fun. They watched them lose and sometimes win. L’Manberg lost so much. Perhaps that was why it crumbled to dust when Schlatt came. 
Because we're so fucking mean We're so elitist We're as fucked as any church And this bullshit west coast dogma Has a higher fucking net worth I bit the apple 'cuz I loved you And why would you lie And then I realized You're just as naive as I am You're so traumatized it makes me wanna cry
Dream, George, and Sapnap. Some of the strongest fighters in the land. The best armor, the best weapons. They could buy, or steal, anything they wanted. The three of them trusted each other, relied on each other. Why would any of them betray the other two? Dream left them. He wanted more power. He landed himself in the prison and changed. He seemed smaller, sadder. Sapnap visited his old friend. He seemed traumatized. After the visit, Sapnap went to George’s houses. They talked. Sapnap returned to his own house and broke. 
You dumb bitch I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true I wanted to be you And do what you do I lived here I loved here I bought it it's true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused
He yelled at Dream in the prison. It reminded him of earlier arguments. Fights with clenched fists and subtle begs for Dream to go back to normal. Fights that broke their already crumbling friendship. Sapnap once wanted to be his friend. Confident and powerful. The land of the Dream SMP where Sapnap built his home. He should have seen the warning signs. His friend hurt him and now he didn’t know what to do. 
Well I don't wanna eat the rich I'd have to eat my hero's first And my tuition's paid by blood I might deserve your fate or worse But I don't need your goddamn money I don't need jack shit from you So when I speak you bet your life my words are true
Quackity was Schlatt’s right hand man. They were friends, perhaps more. He joint his votes with Schlatt’s during the election. When George bailed on him, Schlatt was Quackity’s hero. He went through so much to stay with Schlatt. He went through abuse, verbal, mental, and physical, to be with the president. He oversaw the Festival to keep power. He saw a young boy get torn apart by rockets to keep his position. He snapped by the end. He didn’t need Schlatt. He learn from the former president. He changed. 
Let me level with you man As someone guilty of the game I took the help I took the cash I would've taken your last name So if any girl on earth Should get to make a call about this It would be me and as I see it You're a dick
He tried to talk Schlatt out of it. By the end of his presidency, he was more drunk and crude then ever before. Quackity saw a man who had helped him and Quackity wanted him to be better. Schlatt wouldn’t change. Schlatt stiill saw himself as above others. Quackity rose up in the past few months. He took Schlatt’s help and influence. He took anything he was offered. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to help Schlatt. He saw Schlatt at his glory and his fall. He saw the best and worse and everything in between. Schlatt was beyond saving. 
So fuck your tunnels fuck your cars Fuck your rockets fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla But you're just another Edison Because Tesla broke a patent All you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart With the very same machines That could've been our brand new start
Fuck everything that Schlatt had. His power, his office, his mercenaries, his land. He tried his best to break the people who resisted him. He destroyed what the country stood for. He showed everyone his true colors at the Festival. He forced Technoblade into killing Tubbo with rockets. The same fireworks that could have signaled a new land. The same boy who represented the future. Schlatt destroyed L’Manberg, even if Wilbur was the one who blew it up. 
And the worst part is I loved you I loved you I loved you it's true And sometimes I feel like I still fucking do I lived here I loved here I thought it was true I'm so embarrassed I feel abused
The part that made shame rise in Quackity’s throat was that he did care about Schlatt. Maybe he still did. He lived in Manberg, he loved its president and yet he saw it turn to rubble. He was ashamed to have been the one who worked closest with Schlatt. Some people forgave him, some didn’t. Tubbo forgave him. He worked with Tubbo, after Schlatt’s death. He amassed enough power to still be part of the government. He wondered if it was worth it.
I feel so used I feel so used Take me to the moon Because I feel so used I feel so used
~~~
Inspired by Rät by Penelope Scott
Masterlist
https://thelullabyer12.tumblr.com/post/639129395216433152/masterlist-of-2021
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yuta-nakamots · 3 years
Text
119 - n.jm
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Pairing - Jaemin x Reader
Genre - Horror/Thriller, Angst
Warnings - Cheating, familial problems, character death, mentions of sex (though no descriptions of it), blood, violence, public humiliation (not in a nsfw way), yandere tendencies
Summary - Misfortune is all around you though you were never the true victim of it until now with Jaemin by your side. Will you make it through these troubles or die trying? Will you be killed or become the killer?
Word Count - 4.1k
Written for the #NeoHalloween writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​. Check out the masterlist here.
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To say that your life was rough would be just about an understatement. As a third-year student in university, you had already moved out on your own and had begun supporting yourself. Though your family was wealthy, it didn’t mean that everything in your life was handed to you on a silver platter because not everything that glitters is gold.
Your mother, who used to be a strong businesswoman who started up her own brand, was left heartbroken and devastated when she found out your father and seemingly loving husband had been having an affair for the past two years. She turned to alcohol and drugs in order to forget her sorrows and give her relief if only for a short while. You didn’t know what happened to your father after he moved out, only that he was happy with the woman he had been cheating with.
It soon became an addiction and you tried your best to save her. You scheduled and brought her into therapy appointments and followed her doctor’s orders to keep a close eye on her, but there’s only so much a college student can do. Your younger brother wasn’t helping at all either.
Chenle, only a year younger than you, has had his eyes set on taking over your mother’s business ever since he realized that special treatment he got at school from others when they heard his last name. He fed into your mother’s addictions and would reverse all the progress you made with her. “Don’t you want her money? She’s not in any state to get back in the business world so let’s just take what she has and run.” Chenle told you one night after you had finally succeeded at putting your mother to bed.
You looked at Chenle, appalled that he would even dare to say such a thing, even more at the fact that he had been thinking about this for so long. “We’re her children,” you reminded him, “she will share it with us as she wishes and she can make a comeback if you just stopped making things worse.”
“Me? Making things worse?” Chenle scoffed, mocking his disbelief. “I’m only helping things along. The faster she stops breathing, the faster we’ll get her money and I’ll get her business.” You could only shake your head at him as you pulled him out of your mother’s bedroom that now seemed much too large for her frail self. “Think about it, we can take over and split it fifty-fifty and the media would love us for it. ‘Zhong children take over their mother’s business after her passing in honor of her legacy’. Come on, can’t you see it?”
You felt nauseous at the images Chenle was painting in your mind and you knew there was only so much more of this that you could handle before you reached your own breaking point.
That’s why you brought your mother into a care home when you and Chenle were supposed to be at school. He wouldn’t know where you took her and you chose to pay for it using the money in your own bank account, though admittedly most of it was your mother’s money. Your parents had already bought you your own apartment when you first entered college, in case you wanted more independence though your mother’s condition is what stopped you from leaving. But the same day you left her at the care home was the same day you finally moved in.
As long as your mother was away from Chenle and you went in to check on her daily, everything would be fine, so you thought. You had even met your neighbor and he helped you move in. He was your age, even attended the same school, and went by the name of Jaemin.  
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Ever since your first year in college, your life had already been filled with issues from your own family on top of the already heavy workload from classes, leaving you little to no room for a social life. You weren’t an outcast, but you definitely weren’t popular. People usually didn’t spare you a second glance unless they knew the lineage you came from which is why you suddenly felt small under the eyes that were staring into you.
Looking up as you took your seat in economics, you saw the familiar face of your neighbor, Jaemin, as he smiled down at you. As you settled into your seat, he slipped into the one next to you before leaning over and whispering a ‘good morning’ in your ear. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive.
Within just a week of having known Jaemin, he had already become one of your closest friends, which came as a surprise since he was also one of the most popular boys on campus. But that didn’t stop him from walking home with you after both of you were done for the day. “A princess should never be left to walk on her own.” Jaemin insisted. “Who knows what dangers could be out there, waiting to attack her?” He pondered animatedly as he linked his arm with yours as you started your journey back to your apartment complex.
It was also within a week that it took Chenle to confront you. There he stood, in front of your apartment unit as you and Jaemin stepped out of the elevator. “What did you do with her?” Chenle demanded.
“What do you mean?” You questioned, faking cluelessness as came to stand in front of him, leaving Jaemin at his own unit.
Chenle rolled his eyes. “You know damn well what I mean. Where’s mom and what did you do with her?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You remarked dismissively as you unlocked your door.
“She’s living with you isn’t she?” Chenle sneered, barging into your apartment the second your door was unlocked.
“Go ahead, search all you want. You won’t find her here.” You took off your shoes inside the doorway before depositing your belongings in your room while listening to Chenle romp around in the background. Once you had finished unpacking your bag, you stepped out of your room, closing the door behind you, your brother still going on his little rampage. “Can you tone down the temper tantrum? I’m going to get a noise complaint from the-”
Your sentence was cut off as he pinned you against the wall, his hands holding you by your shoulders as your back slammed into the hard surface. “From who? Who will you get a noise complaint from?” His eyes bore into yours as his grip only tightened. “You know damn well that we own this apartment complex so a single noise complaint doesn’t mean jack shit.”
You raised your hand to slap him, his attitude was simply annoying, but he was faster. Chenle quickly had both of your wrists in one hand as he brought his face closer to yours. “Stop being such a bitch and tell me where she is.”
“You know I won’t do that.” Chenle let out a groan of frustration, his free hand running through his hair before it came straight for your throat. You yelped in shock as he started to apply pressure, slowly limiting your oxygen intake.
“If you’re not going to help me, then maybe I should just kill you. Right here, right now.”
“You would never.” You choked out.
“Oh yeah? What makes you say that?” He sneered, enjoying the pitiful state he had you in.
“I’m your fucking sister, Chenle.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me. If I let you live, you’ll only take more of what is rightfully mine. If you die, I can take over everything on my own and never have to deal with your annoying ass-”
Just as quickly as you started seeing spots in your vision, they were gone, the pressure on your throat was relieved and you keeled over, finally able to take gulps of air. You weren’t given much time to recover, the yells from your brother down the hallway pulling you out of your haze as he fought with another person on top of him. “Who the fuck are you?” Chenle exclaimed.
“Her boyfriend,” the person said, the deep voice easily recognizable, “don’t you dare hurt her ever again, or else it will be you getting killed instead.”
“You talk as if you have the power to do so.” Chenle retorted, only angering his attacker further.
They landed a square punch on his jaw before pulling a book off the shelf next to them and slamming it into his head, effectively knocking Chenle out. “Jaemin, what are you doing?” You yell, running in to stop him from doing any further damage.
“I heard him hurting you, princess. I can’t just let him get away with it.” He explained, pouting at you as if your brother was not lying unconscious under him. “I saved your life didn’t I?”
“God,-fuck, Jaemin, just get off of him.” You yanked him to his feet before attempting to pull Chenle up onto your back.
“Oh? What is my pretty girl doing now?” Jaemin asked, a sadistic smile appearing on his face.
“Getting him to a hospital because I can’t have my brother dying in my own apartment you sick fuck.”
Jaemin chuckled before responding while taking Chenle from your arms and carrying him on his own. “He won't die, he’ll just be knocked out for a bit.”
“And how would you know that?” You ask as you guide Jaemin out the front door, trying your best not to panic as you map out the way to your car and to the hospital.
“Experience.”
Jaemin’s answer should have troubled you but it was the least of your worries once you were nearly speeding on your way to the hospital, wanting to make sure Chenle was okay. You brought him into the ER drive-in and you and Jaemin watched as the staff wheeled him away on a stretcher. You stayed to answer a few questions, claiming that it was a case of self-defense out on the streets and you had come across it on your way home with your, self-proclaimed, boyfriend, before heading out once all the information was sorted.
“So, Chenle Zhong...he’s your brother?” Jaemin started as both of you were getting back into your car. You nodded as you started the engine and put on your seatbelt. “Which means...Sarah Zhong, The Sarah Zhong is your mother?” Again, you nodded as you shifted the car into gear and pulled out from the ER drop-off zone. “So he was in your apartment, about to kill you because he didn’t know where his own mother went?”
“There’s a lot more to it than that, but let’s just get home first and I’ll explain everything to you then, okay?” Jaemin let out a grunt to acknowledge you as he placed a hand on your thigh and went to check his phone. “But first, actually, what’s up with you suddenly becoming my boyfriend? First with Chenle and now at the hospital?”
“Isn’t that what I am?” Jaemin asked, his voice sickly sweet.
“You are a boy and you are my friend, but that does not make you my boyfriend, Jaemin.”
He sighed next to you. “What if I asked you right now? What if I asked, right now, ‘y/n Zhong, will you be my girlfriend’? What would your answer be?” You drove in silence, your mind going blank. “I know you find me attractive.” He interjected before letting it go silent once again. “Look, it’s not like you have any other choice or else-”
“‘Or else’ what?” You interrupted. “Tell me, why do I not have a choice here? Why are you forcing me to be your girlfriend?”
Jaemin gently squeezed your thigh upon noticing your hands were shaking on the wheel. “You pretty brother will probably press charges against me and if you don’t want your family to get exposed, the best way to do so would be following the alibi we set out for ourselves.”
Coming to a stop at a red light, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the top of the steering wheel. “Fuck.” Jaemin was absolutely right. “Fuck” you yelled, this time startling the boy next to you.
Jaemin remained quiet as you sat hunched over before quietly mumbling “green” to let you know the light had changed colors. You drove through the intersection, feeling something in your life shift, and so began your relationship with Jaemin.
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You had explained everything to Jaemin that day once you arrived back at your apartment complex, from your father’s affair up until now with Chenle having confronted you earlier in the evening. You had also broken down in tears and asked Jaemin to stay the night with you, which he gladly agreed to do, not that it would have been much trouble for him anyways since he lives next door.
A fake sense of calm consumed you in the following month. You and Jaemin entered a sort of honeymoon phase in your semi-fake relationship while your mother’s health continued to improve and Chenle made his recovery. You don’t know how he did it, but Jaemin had managed to doctor up some footage, making it look as if Chenle had been mugged just outside of the complex, and two figures, assumed to be you and Jaemin, came into view and helped him into a car nearby before driving off.
The investigators didn’t stay around much longer after that, closing the case as if it were as easy as a hit and run. You knew Chenle would be furious with you and you lived every day in fear of him turning up unannounced, ready to take your life again. Being with Jaemin made you feel safe, oddly enough, even with all the red flags he had thrown your way. From knocking Chenle out to the fixed footage and even the way he had the proper cleaning supplies to wipe any evidence of Chenle having been in your apartment.
Jaemin showed you love more intensely than any of your past relationships that sometimes you had to remind yourself why you were doing this. The way he kissed you was absolutely enrapturing, the way he caressed every part of you so gently sent butterflies through your body. He had even made love to you a few times, all while confessing his adoration for you. He held your hand and let you wear his clothing, acting as a model boyfriend that any girl would wish to have.
Being with Jaemin wasn’t all that great though. He teased you, sometimes even publicly embarrassed you, though he chalked it up to being his way of showing his affection. Today was the worst of all. You had stayed up trying to finish a paper for econ, but you just couldn’t get the words to flow and ended up bullshitting nearly all of it. Jaemin had known all of this, yet he volunteered your essay to share during class when your professor had asked for any names. “Ah yes, Ms. Zhong, it would be a pleasure to hear your writing.” He said as he stepped down from the podium.
“Jaemin, I fucking swear to god-” You whispered through a fake smile.
“It’s okay princess, you got this. You’re smart, I know you are.” He encouraged through a genuine smile though the intentions behind it were less so.
As you stood up on the podium, you cleared your throat while holding your sad excuse for a research paper. “I wrote my essay on the stock market and investments, and how we shouldn’t buy into such things as all these numbers are digital and cannot be withdrawn into physical money.”
“With all due respect, Ms. Zhong, your paper sounds absolutely wonderful but the topic of this research paper was on how politics affect economies worldwide.” Your professor informed you.
You paused, feeling hot chills pass over you. “Uh, yes, that’s what my essay is on. I just meant that I had chosen to write about it from a more fundamental scale.”
“Oh, yes, of course!” Your professor exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Please, do continue in that case, I’m terribly sorry for interrupting.”
“So, like I was saying,” you began again, glancing over at Jaemin, only for him to shoot you a smile, “we should not buy into the stock market since it is all digital and wealth is not promised.” Your presentation went on like this for the next few minutes, occasionally looking at Jaemin whenever you wanted to finish and step off the podium, but his gaze changed immediately whenever you took a step towards the edge and it forced you to stay up there, talking around in circles, confusing yourself. “This is why prices are so inflated with what our past presidents have done in the economy-”
“Thank you, Ms. Zhong. I do believe it is time we moved on to the next paper.” Your professor advised, much to your relief as he gave you a look of pity and condolence while allowing you to step down before he resumed his position at the front of the class.
You were on the edge of tears as you sat back down next to Jaemin and you swatted his hand away from you when he tried to wrap an arm around you as if to comfort you. You felt your phone vibrating in your bag as Jaemin texted you but you didn’t even bother checking it, choosing to zone out while staring at the white walls of the lecture hall instead.
After your professor excused the class for the day, you made a beeline for the apartments, not even caring that you still had one more class. Jaemin called out for you and ran after you but you thanked whatever divine being above that blessed you by letting Jeno, his best friend, pull him off to their shared biology class.
Had you been a little more attentive, maybe you would’ve noticed the near carbon copy of your car parked at the end of the garage as you pulled out. But you didn’t, only seeking your mother’s comfort as you drove off to the care home since it had indeed been a week since you had last visited and you promised that you would come at least once a week.
When you arrived at the care home and passed through the main lobby, greeting the staff working as you were a familiar face among them, one of them stopped you. “Ms. Zhong! Sorry to stop you, but a person by the name of Chenle Zhong came by to pick up your mother. We didn’t know if this was something you had arranged or not but he had all the credentials and your mother seemed to recognize him enough so we let her go.”
You froze in absolute shock and panic. “What do you mean you let her go? You left her with some stranger that you don’t even know?”
“We’re truly sorry, but he did have all the paperwork to prove his relation to you and your mother so there was nothing we could do.” The worker said, speaking quickly in hopes of ceasing your anger.
You took a couple of deep breaths before looking around, noticing all the eyes on you. “How much did he pay?” Silence. “I said, how much did he pay?” You yelled.
“$150,000.” The woman behind the front desk spoke up. You knew it, you fucking knew it would happen but now there was nothing left to do except wait for Chenle to show up.
You don’t know what came over you but something compelled you to enter Jaemin’s apartment instead of yours once you returned to the apartments so you went along with it, dropping your bag at the foot of his bed before lying down and falling asleep as you waited for him to finish at school.
Your sleep was a black dreamless sleep and you woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, not knowing what time it was nor why you woke up in this state. You looked out of the window, noting that it was now dark out, meaning that you had probably slept for at least an hour or two, which answered your first immediate question. The answer to the second came when you finally registered the yelling coming from next door. Next door...your apartment.
Scrambling out of Jaemin’s bed, you didn’t even bother putting on your shoes, bursting in through your front door and running down the main hallway towards the living room, the source of all the noise, to find a bloodied Jaemin on top of an equally, if not more, bloodied Chenle, the weapon in question lying a few feet away from them, the warm red liquid slowly dripping from the blade of the kitchen knife onto your beige carpet. “Jaemin, what the fuck are you doing?!” Both boys paused at the sound of your voice.
“Oh, my sweet girl, I had come home to wait for you after you had run away but instead he came to me. I knew all about how he had bought you mother so I figured, why not give him injuries that will cost another $150,000?” His face smiling at you with the bloodied fingerprints plastered on his pale skin was a sight you knew you’d never forget.
You slowly stepped towards them, your brain working at speeds beyond your comprehension. “Jaemin, how did you know about my mother? I had only just come from there so unless Chenle told you...” you paused to look over at your brother, who shook his head before coughing up some blood, spitting some in a glob at Jaemin.
Jaemin cooed at Chenle as he wiped the blood off his face before running that same hand through Chenle’s hair, locking his fingers into it and yanking Chenle’s head back at a painful angle. Chenle yelled out in pain, his cries muffled when Jaemin pulled a blanket off your couch and stuffed it into Chenle’s mouth. “You see, princess, I had their security circuit pulled even before you told me about your family’s misfortune.”
“Wha- but how...why?...” You struggled to grasp at all the information being connected in your head.
“Your cheating father had an affair with not only your mother and mine as well.” He looked between you and Chenle, enjoying the shock that was mirrored in both of your expressions. “That’s right, my mother is the mistress who stole away your father. However, he is the man who broke apart my family too when she ran away with him, leaving me with my abusive asshole of a dad.”
You continued moving closer and kneeled down once you were in front of Jaemin, bringing yourself to eye level with him, even if the smell of blood was making you feel like passing out. “I figured that by killing one of you, I could force you stupid Zhongs to get back together and bring my mother back to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger, not when I’ve fallen so madly in love with you...which leaves me with him.”
Jaemin lunged for the knife next to you only to find that you picked it up much faster than he did. You stood up and backed away from them with the knife as Chenle attempted to shove Jaemin off of him, but Jaemin was stronger though not by much. “Princess, please do both of us a favor. He tried to kill you and he’s shown how little you mean to him. Do you really think he’d share everything equally with you?” Your eyes darted between both of theirs. “Don’t you wish for my happiness? After all the love I’ve given to you?”
Your gaze locked with Chenle’s who was shaking due to the overexertion of his body. “Does the pretty boy have something to say?” Jaemin cooed as he pulled the blanket out of Chenle’s mouth.
“It’s me or him, y/n. Me or him.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Jaemin said before pouncing back on Chenle, both his hands wrapping around Chenle’s pale neck.
You threw the knife, hoping for it to reach its target. It did, and you watched as his body stilled and went limp right in front of your eyes, the blade pierced through his heart. It was honestly a lucky throw but regardless, the blood on the knife was because of you.
You are the killer now.
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reidingandwriting · 4 years
Text
Home
Word Count: ~4,100 words
Ship: Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mention of injury (concussion), drinking (all characters of legal age)
A/N: Since there are quite a few flashbacks, and some of them are long, I’ve set off the flashbacks in dashes (------) instead of having big blocks of texts in italics. I might change them to italics depending on how they read!
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Emily Prentiss didn’t believe in soulmates. Well, she didn’t believe she had one. Except for the occasional fling, Emily’s love life was practically non-existent. Maybe it was for the better that way. She was a strong and independent woman, thank you very much, and she didn’t need a man or a woman to complete her. Besides, she could always get a cat.
Y/N Y/L/N was a hopeless romantic. You loved the idea of having a soulmate, someone who was made for you, someone who just gets you. You hadn’t met your soulmate yet, but you were a strong believer in fate. When the universe was ready for you to meet your soulmate, you’d meet them. God, you hoped you’d meet them soon. But it’s not like your soulmate was the only thing on your mind. You had gotten your masters degree before you applied for the FBI Academy. You then were assigned to work in the Violent Crimes Against Children department, where you worked your ass off until you got the news you had been waiting for since you graduated from college: you were joining the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. 
Working with the BAU was a dream come true for you. The cases were hard and long, the criminals involved really made you question if there was any good in humanity at times. But the good moments? You would never forget them. 
------
You laid back in your seat on the plane and closed your eyes with a sigh. You had just finished your first case and you were on the flight back to headquarters. You couldn’t wait to see your bed again. You opened one of your eyes when you heard someone sit beside you but closed it again when you saw Derek.
“Hey, pretty girl. How do you feel?” You dragged your hand over your face and looked up at the man you would soon grow close to. 
“Exhausted. Happy the case is over and that we saved the last victim. I wish we could have saved the others.” You sighed. “But at least the families of the missing women have closure now.” 
“Unfortunately we can’t save everyone. But with everybody we save, it makes the job easier. You did great, kid. And you’ll get better with every case.” You smiled at Derek’s words and leaned your head against his shoulder. 
“Thanks, Morgan.” You felt your eyes grow heavy and you yawned. “I’m using you as a pillow now, hope you weren’t planning on moving anytime soon.” Derek’s shoulder shook with laughter, and he rested his head against yours. 
“Rest up, Y/L/N. You’ve earned it.”
------
Over the last eighteen months, you had grown close to the team you now considered your family. There were many lows and many highs during your career, as well as many unexpected twists. The best unexpected part? Meeting Agent Emily Prentiss. You had just gotten back to headquarters when you met her.
------
“Hey, Y/N. Garcia, JJ, Reid, and I are going to Freddy’s for dinner. We’ve got room for one more if you want to come.” Derek asked as he gathered his things from his desk. You were seated at your own desk, papers strewn across the space. 
“I think I’m gonna head home once I handle,” you gestured to the mess, “all this.” Derek chuckled and put his jacket on.
“Don’t stay too late, we don’t need two people living here.” Derek nodded up towards Hotch’s office. You looked up and your brows furrowed when you saw two silhouettes in the office.  
“I’ll head out soon. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” You and Derek exchanged goodbyes, your gaze not leaving the window as you heard everyone leave. You shook your head to clear your thoughts and began to organize your desk. You strained to decipher the muffled voices coming from your boss’s office and perked up when you heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice.
“I promise you won’t regret this.” You heard her footsteps as she walked out of Hotch’s office and you looked up as she walked down the stairs. Your eyes traveled up her body until you saw the box in her hands and then met her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders, and there was a smile on her face. She looked proud, but also relieved, and she tried to appear neutral. You didn’t know how long you had been watching her before she spoke to you. “Hi. I’m Emily Prentiss.” Emily shifted the box in her hands to prop it against her hip and held her hand out. You stood up, shook her hand, and offered a polite smile.
“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Oh! You can set your things on my desk.” Emily smiled gratefully at you and set the box down. “Facilities management has probably left already, they won’t be back until morning. You’re more than welcome to keep everything here if you want, they’ll be safe. Unless you have coffee stashed away in there, then I might have to charge a storage fee.” Emily’s laughter filled your ears and your heart skipped a beat at the sound. New life goal, make this gorgeous woman laugh as much as you can. “The coffee here is less than appealing, so I recommend buying your own. There’s a shop across the street, they make amazing lattes. I’m sorry, I’m rambling, and you probably have places to be.”
“You’re fine, I promise.” Emily reassured and her phone buzzed in her pocket. “But I do need to take this.”
“And I should head out. I can hear my bed calling my name from here.” You picked at the sleeve of your shirt subconsciously, which of course Emily noticed. Gotta love profilers. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?” 
“Bright and early.”
“Don’t remind me.” You groaned before you grabbed your bag from your chair. “Goodnight, Prentiss.”
“Goodnight.” And if you came to work the next morning with a cup of coffee on your desk, that was no one’s business except for yours and Emily’s. Little did either of you know that you had met your soulmate. You were getting ready for a run the first time you noticed something was off.
------
“Yes, Derek. I’ll be in the lobby in five minutes. You know, you’re really impatient.” You teased as you walked to your closet to grab a pair of shoes. 
“And you’re late.”
“Am not! You said we’d meet at six, I still have a few minutes.” As you bent down to grab your running shoes, your brows furrowed when you noticed a red tank top on the floor. “Huh.”
“Everything okay?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, yeah. I just found something I forgot I bought. I’ll be down in a minute, and I’ll buy smoothies after. Since I’m so late.” 
“Chop, chop, pretty girl.” Derek hung up and you grabbed the shirt from the floor and examined it. It had been worn quite often, so you knew it wasn’t yours. Or was it? You shrugged but tossed the shirt towards your laundry hamper. That was a problem for another day. You quickly slid your shoes on and left your apartment. You made your way downstairs, Derek and you being the only ones in the lobby at the time. 
“I’m here, I’m here. Sorry, late start.” You said as you walked over. “Our usual path?”
“Lead the way, Y/L/N.”
------
You brushed off the shirt as simply being forgetful. You had bought a lot of clothes when you moved for your job, it must have been forgotten in the back of your closet. You figured it was a one time thing, and the possibility of soulmates never even crossed your mind. It had been nearly a month since the red shirt incident, and nothing else odd had happened since. Until…
------
“That’s a new necklace. Where’d you get it?” Penelope asked as you both stepped off the elevator. 
“I honestly can’t remember buying it.” You shrugged. “I must have gotten it a while ago, but I don’t remember wearing it before.” As you walked towards the conference room, Prentiss walked out of the mini kitchen with JJ. 
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to it. I thought I had it on my nightstand, but I went to put it on this morning, and it was gone.” Emily said and ran her hand through her hair.
“We can go to my favorite store to look for a replacement tonight if we aren’t on a new case.” Jennifer offered. Emily smiled gratefully at her as the pair walked towards the conference room. Rossi left his office and walked towards the stairs. As he reached the stairs, he met Aaron who stepped into sync with him. 
“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked as he looked at Dave. 
“Oh, not much. Just wondering who we’ll be chasing on our next case.” Rossi said. Just the fact two of our profilers are oblivious soulmates, he thought.
------
Over the next couple of weeks, you and Emily both found little things scattered across your homes. It sounded weird to admit, but it made Emily’s days better when she found something of her soulmate’s in her apartment. Everything you had lost helped her understand you more- she really felt like she was getting to know you. Emily smiled when she found (your favorite book) in her room, and she couldn’t help but read the book with a dopey smile on her face. God, she couldn’t wait to meet you, whoever you were. Little did either of you know, that day would come closer than you thought.
*Baddies of the BAU group chat*
Pen: girls!!!
Pen: it’s someone’s birthday monday
Pen: @ Y/N
Jayje: our baby’s turning 30! 
Jayje: all grown up
Em<3: we’re celebrating, right?
Y/N: i’d honestly be happy with the weekend off
Y/N: or some of rossi’s scotch
Pen: i can’t promise that, but i can promise you a night of drinks
Pen: our usual time and place tonight?
Jayje: i’ll be there!
Em<3: so will i. Y/N?
Y/N: how could i say no?
Y/N: see you tonight my loves!
*End of chat*
“Derek, I need a favor.” Emily said as she paced across her apartment. Derek’s brows furrowed as he heard all the noise in the background. 
“Of course. Is everything okay?”
“No.” Emily groaned. “Well, yeah, just… shit. I can’t find my keys. And yeah, I could call an Uber, but-”
“I’ll give you a ride. Wonder if your soulmate found your keys.” Emily could hear the smirk in Derek’s voice, and she rolled her eyes.
“With my luck, they’re an ocean away. Thanks, Morgan.”
-
“Spence, what are the odds of me actually meeting my soulmate?”
“Statistically,” Spencer trailed off, “not the greatest. Soulmates aren’t guaranteed to be living in the same geographical area as you, not even the same timeline really. There’s theories about past lives, it’s actually really fascinating.” A pause. “Sorry, that wasn’t an answer. There’s a 3.7 percent chance of you meeting your soulmate. An even lower chance you actually make the connection that they are your soulmate.” “So the chance of me living in the same city as my soulmate and knowing who they are is practically impossible.” You said as you held a familiar keychain in your hand. A keychain that was nearly identical to yours. You had thought it was yours, absentmindedly grabbing the set of keys from your coffee table as you started to leave, until you tried to lock your door. 
“You know who they are?”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you going to say anything to them?”
“Oh yeah.” You tucked the keys into your bag before you grabbed yours. “Sooner than later.”
------
You were seated next to Rossi, talking to Penelope from across the table, and you laughed when Rossi chimed in, agreeing with you. You rested your hand on his shoulder and Penelope grumbled something about favoritism under her breath while JJ laughed.
“You’re my favorite person, Pen.” JJ said, which then caused Reid to protest from his seat. Hotch shook his head, but everyone saw the fond smile on his lips. The energy at the table was light and carefree, something that didn’t happen often enough.
“Got room for two more?” You looked up and smiled when you saw Derek walk in, Emily a few steps behind him. 
“Hmm, I think we’ll take you. If you get our first round.” Derek playfully sighed.
“Deal. Only because you’re the birthday girl. Almost the birthday girl.” He ruffled your hair before he walked towards the bar, and Rossi stood up. 
“I’ll go help him carry everything. Take a seat.” Dave patted Emily’s shoulder as he walked past her to help Morgan. Emily took a seat beside you, and it didn’t take a profiler to notice the change in your demeanor. She noticed how your movements were more calculated and thought out. Any other time you wouldn’t be afraid to be handsy with her, your shoulders would brush together a little more often than necessary, your legs against each other’s. But today, there was distance. Not enough to be noticeable to anyone who didn’t know the dynamic between the two women, but to Emily, you might as well have been worlds apart. After a few drinks, Hotch and Rossi had made their way to the bar, and they watched their ‘children’. Morgan and Garcia were dancing together, Reid in between the pair, much to his protesting. 
“Come on, boy wonder, we aren’t leaving until you’ve danced at least once.” Garcia had said as she pulled Spencer to the floor. You stirred your drink as you leaned against the upholstered booth, Emily and JJ on the other side of the dance floor. You smiled at everyone and didn’t notice Dave walk up behind you.
“You can’t avoid her all night.” You jumped at the sound of his voice and looked back towards him. “I’m not the best person to give advice on love, but I have been married a few times. So I know a little something.”
“I’m not avoiding her- wait, how did you know?” “I watched. And she happens to be missing the necklace you wore tonight.” You felt your cheeks heat up and you looked back towards Emily.
“I didn’t know it was her. Not until I found this.” You pulled the keychain  out of your bag. 
“I’m guessing there’s a story I’m missing.” Rossi took a seat beside you, and you began to explain. 
“It started when we had a case take us to Los Angeles.”
------
“I hate how my first trip to L.A. had to be when we’re chasing a serial killer.” You sighed as you opened the case file. 
“We’ve been to Los Angeles on a case before. It was your third case with us.” Spencer said absentmindedly as he read, eyes darting rapidly across the paper. 
“My second trip, my bad.” You rolled your eyes, but there was a fond smile on your lips. “But we stayed at the hotel, police department, and crime scenes. Not a second of time off.”
“What’s time off?” Gideon asked and you chuckled. 
“I really want to go one day, not as an agent, but as a tourist. Maybe when I retire.” As soon as the conversation started, it ended as Garcia popped up on screen to further discuss the case. 
-
“You would be fine if you flew, but it’s up to you ultimately. It is a long drive back, though.” The EMT spoke, and you were seated on the back of the ambulance with Hotch standing beside you. 
“Could she fly tomorrow? If she feels up to it, of course.” Aaron asked, and there was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 
“As long as her symptoms continue to get better as time passes, she’s clear to fly. It’s all preference at this point. Just be sure to follow the instructions we gave you, and you should start feeling better soon.”
“Thank you.” The EMT dismissed herself to go check on the injured victim, and Hotch turned to you. 
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I ran into a wall.” You chuckled then winced. “I’ve had worse. The medicine will help, and I’ll feel better after some sleep tonight.”
“I’ll have Prentiss drive you back to the hotel so you can rest.” Aaron paused. “There’s a few tourist-y spots near our hotel, but they’ll be crowded until later tonight. There’s a restaurant on Fifth just a few minutes from where we’re staying, not many tourists know about it. I can send you the address if you want it.” You blushed as you looked up at Hotch. 
“Thank you, sir. Uh, how did you…?”
“You said you wanted to visit the city as a tourist, and for the Prentiss part? Let’s call it intuition.”
-
“Remind me to thank Hotch for sending us to that restaurant. That was the best dinner I’ve ever had.” Emily said and you hummed in agreement. 
“If I got this treatment every time I got injured on the field, I’d let our unsubs pistol-whip me more often.” You laughed as she shot a playful glare at you. “Easy, Prentiss. I do not enjoy any restaurant enough to have another concussion.”
“How is your head feeling? We can go back to the hotel if you’re ready.” Emily paused. “Unless you feel up for another adventure.”
“Please, take me anywhere but the hotel.” And in that moment, the whole city seemed to brighten when Emily smiled. 
“I’ve got a few places in mind.” 
By the end of the night, you had walked down the Hollywood Walk of Fame (and took countless pictures), stopped by the Kodak Theatre (“Em, it’s like we’re a part of the Academy Awards!”), and now you were in a gift shop. 
“I remember when I was younger.” You spoke, your voice soft as you looked at a display rack. “I was on a trip to New York, my high school journalism class took the entire group of us up to the city. We went to a little gift shop before we came back home. All the girls went off together, bought those little matching keychains that ‘best friends’ had, except for me. I know it’s stupid to be upset about now, but fifteen year old me felt so lonely. I just joined the school my sophomore year, everyone else had made their group of friends. And I had no one.” 
“Look at you now.” Emily said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and neither of you mentioned it when you automatically leaned into her touch. “You’re a profiler for the FBI, and we have some pretty amazing people we’re working with. I think it’s safe to say you’ll never have to worry about being lonely again.” Emily reached forward and grabbed a pair of keychains from the rack. “And now, you can show off your glamorous ‘I survived my trip to L.A.’ keychain to everyone.”
“Look, you can even get the back engraved. We can get something matching, we’ll be the best friends of the BAU.” You teased and Emily gasped. 
“You, Y/L/N, are a genius.”
------
You thumbed over the engraving and read it out loud. “If you ever feel alone, you can always run home.” And in the bottom corner, yours and Emily’s initials were engraved. “We promised each other. No matter how crazy this job gets, if either of us leave, if we just need a break… We can always go to each other, go ‘home.’” You let your eyes wander over to Emily, who was now dancing with Reid. The smiles on both of their faces made you smile before you turned towards Rossi. “I don’t want to mess everything up.”
“Bella,” Dave smiled sympathetically and rested a hand on your shoulder, “I haven’t ever seen someone look at each other the way you and Emily do. If anyone in the world are soulmates, it’s you two.” You stood up and wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tight. 
“Thank you for everything.” You whispered and Rossi returned your tight hug. The man was affectionately nicknamed the dad of the group, while the rest of you (with the exception of Hotch) were his children. But the role of “Papa” Rossi applied especially to you. You two had formed a bond over the months Rossi had been on the team. You were often paired together, your personalities meshing well while working on the field and during interrogations. You often went to him for advice, and Rossi was sure to offer the best hospitality possible. You’d drink the best wine and help him cook dinner while the two of you joked around and talked, Tony Bennett playing over vinyl in the background. 
“Go get her, bella.” You smiled before you stepped away from Rossi and walked over to Emily, keys now tucked into your pocket. 
“Hey, pretty girl! Look who decided to join us.” Derek said as he saw you walking over, causing Emily to look over at you. 
“I will in a minute, you better have saved me a dance. But first, um. Em, can I talk to you?” Emily’s brows furrowed but she nodded. 
“Let’s step outside, get some fresh air.” You nodded and walked out with Emily, and you chewed your lip nervously. This is it. As you walked out the door of the bar, the cool autumn air hit your face, and you took a deep breath. 
“You know, I had this big speech planned. I dreamed of the day I’d be able to meet someone, and tell them all about how I had been waiting for this day for years. And even though there’s the smallest, microscopic chance of me meeting them, I finally did. I met them. My soulmate.” You pulled the set of keys out of your pocket. “I believe these are yours. As is my necklace, according to Rossi.”
“So the extra remote I found in my living room, that was yours.” 
“That’s where it went! I really went out and had to buy a new remote, that was so annoying.” You two laughed and a comfortable silence fell over you. 
“Y/N-“
“Emily-“
“You first.” You smiled. 
“If I were to ask you on a date, let’s say for tomorrow, would you say yes?”
“I like to think I’m a pretty good cook, props to Rossi for the recipes he taught me. And I’ve finally got my Wi-Fi fixed. Dinner and a movie?” You stepped closer to her. “And maybe,” you gripped Emily’s jacket and pulled her to you. Your eyes flicked down to her lips then back to her eyes. Emily nodded and suddenly your lips were on hers. 
You always heard about that first kiss soulmates shared. How it felt like two became one, how in that moment you knew you were where you belonged. Your kiss with Emily? God, it was so much better than that. Neither you or Emily would ever forget this kiss for the rest of your lives. 
———
Some time later….
“Move over, Serg. Pretty sure she’s my girlfriend, not yours.” You settled onto the couch, balancing a bowl of popcorn, careful of the black cat taking over the couch. “Diva.” You tapped the cat’s nose lightly, and Sergio swatted at your hand before he jumped off the couch and wandered off. 
“You can’t be mean to my child, it’s against the rules.” You shot a playful glare at Emily and covered your body in a blanket, the bowl in your lap. 
“Your child? Excuse me, he’s ours.”
“Too bad he likes me more.” There was a taunting tone to her voice and you huffed.
“Alright, Prentiss. You just lost popcorn privileges because of that comment.” Emily wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you into her, and you squealed before laughing. “Get off me!”
“Oh, you love me.” 
“I tolerate you.” You buried yourself into Emily’s side, tucked in between her and the couch, the bowl now in front of her. Emily poked your side and you giggled softly. “What’s tonight’s movie, Em?”
“50 First Dates. Penelope acted like I insulted her personally whenever I told her I haven’t seen it.” 
“Well we can’t disappoint our girl much longer. Press play, birthday girl.” 
By the end of the movie, Emily had fallen asleep. Sergio was curled up at the end of the couch, and Emily’s back was pressed to your chest. You pressed a gentle kiss to her neck before you laid back and closed your eyes. 
“Goodnight, lover. Happy birthday.”
Taglist for CM: @spidey-reids-2003​ and @ssa-sugar-tits​  ❤ If you’d like to be removed/added to a taglist, let me know!! Requests are open but may take a minute, my midterms start soon!
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ilegnangeli · 3 years
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Random June Thought #1
I think I may have to be the most sentimental person I know. Or maybe not sentimental but mental. Just kidding. So I’ve shared that whenever I go back home, I get pretty sentimental. And it’s really true.
Maybe because I get to see my parents. My aging parents. And I get reminded of how fast and finite life is.
I have so many things planned for them but I feel like I’m running out of time. Whenever people ask me what I want to have in the future, I don’t answer them with having a family of my own but instead I want to see my family members safe and healthy. I want to spend a longer time with them. Never mind getting married or having a family of my own. Just seeing my family members’ good health and seeing them living a good life will be more than enough for me.
The thing is I almost always get to do heart to heart talks with my family when I meet with them. I get to speak with my father and his plans for the future. I get to chat with my mother about where she wants to go and what she wants to do. I get pretty sentimental because I love these people. I love my parents so much. And I want to honor them as much as I can, spoil them as much as I can. But I’m so short on time. I only get to visit them once a month and it pains me that I need to say goodbye ever so often.
I’m not a kid anymore but I still am a kid in my parents’ eyes. I love that my parents are so loving and unconditional when it comes to providing love, care, and attention to us—their children and of course, grandchildren. I love that I grew up with the parents I have now. I’m grateful that I get to experience life with them as my parents. I love that I have a generous father and a loving mother. Their combination is perfect. So thank You, God. Thank you for giving me these parents. I am eternally grateful.
Today’s Father’s Day. It's funny because since the ‘rents, me, and my younger sister are vaccinated, we get to celebrate together. With my aunt and cousins, too. And little Batuti who had to come along because there will be no one to look after him in our condo. Lmao
Anyway, today was a really good day. An emotional one, too. On the way home, as my cousin drove us back to the Metro, my aunt and I had this conversation about the future. She asked me about my plans. She asked me about my plans for the house where my parents are living. She asked me about the future—my future. I told her I don’t think about getting married. Because I feel like in the short span of time remaining with my parents, I just want to spoil them. I want to give them the life they deserve. I just want to provide for them. Because no one else will do that for them. All my older siblings are married, busy with their lives, and busy their own families.
Plus, I’m afraid of becoming a parent myself. I don’t know if I could be as loving or as caring as Mama Duay. I don’t know of I could ever be as hardworking and generous as Papa Henry. I don’t know if I can call myself a mother, a parent in the future. I’m not sure if I want my future children to grow up in this specific environment. I don’t know how I will be able to raise strong, independent, and caring children. I’m so afraid for them to experience pain and suffering here. I’m not sure if I could take it—just watching them grow up while struggling. I don’t know. I don’t want them to feel the same things I’ve felt—I'm feeling—here. I’m not sure they deserve this kind of life. It’s so hard to live here. My God, just thinking about this makes me tear up.
Life is hard. And I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to raise children because I expect them to give something in return for the life I’ve provided for them. I don’t want that.
But then I think about my parents. What they want for me. I feel like sometimes, when I talk about my crush during meals, my dad gets pretty silent and a little jealous because I seriously sound like I want to settle down. Lmao I feel like my mom always says that my crush is gay because she feels that—at the same time—she doesn’t want to give me away. (Dear crush, if you only knew how much I have thought about our future together lol. Thank God, you’ll never know though.)
What’s funny is that sometimes I feel like my parents WANT me to settle down with someone. So that they could be at peace. Damn, this is going to make me cry so hard. I don’t want to cry, I’ve been crying over the weekend. My heart can’t take it anymore lmao. If the world gave me money for every tear I dropped or every ounce of tear that came down my face, I’d be swimming in a pool of money. Dammit. But life, life is much harder. And I can only write about life because that’s how I roll. So in case you’re reading this in the future, SELF. I hope you’re in a much better place. I’m praying for the future of us. This is me from the past saying hello.
On our drive home, I spoke with my aunt about how I was planning to travel with my parents before the pandemic. I wanted to bring my parents abroad. I wanted to bring them to the places I’ve been and experience those places with them. I still want that. I will do that. Please COVID-19, go away.
I also told my aunt that I wanted to bring my dad back to Ilocos. He loves that place. My parents are both from Visayas. Papa is Waray, Mama is Bisaya. How they ended up together? That’s a story for another time. But my dad was stationed in Ilocos for some time, way before I came into their life, and they lived there for some time with two of my ugly ass brothers. Sorry I always call my siblings ugly asses—it’s my endearment. While my elder sister and eldest brother were in Samar. Parents married early, both were 18 at the time of marriage. But despite that they were able to raise their children. I feel like writing about their life—maybe one day I could write about our lives. Soon? Lol anywho, Papa loves Ilocos and I want to bring him back there. With the fam. If God will give me enough time with my parents, I hope to be able to bring them abroad, too. At least once.
I wish I could win the lottery. So that I could do all these things faster. Buy that house I’ve always wanted to have in Presello lmao. Give the life I want to give to my parents and my younger sister. Spoil my nephews and niece to oblivion. And prolly purchase a guy who would love to settle with me. I’m just kidding. I always joke about becoming rich and just buying men. But that also scares the shit outta me. Imagine, what if he’s a serial killer? And he only marries me because he wants my money? Hmm, those are some thoughts to ponder. So much for watching true crime shit on YouTube.
So I’m going back to my original plans. Get those education units. Get that teaching license. If God permits me, get that graduate degree. Leave the country. Never look back. LMAAAAOOOO, girl. Hopefully these aren’t wishful thinking. Because istg, I want a better life for my family. If it means I’ll never get married, then so be it. HAHAHAHA.
Anyway, happy father’s day to all you dads out there. I hope you had a great celebration with your families. I had a great one today. And I loved every moment of it. I wish I could celebrate more with my family. I miss us eating out together. We’re big bunch, you see. And I get a little bit too sentimental when I get reminded of the past because right now, in this pandemic, we can’t do that. But thank God for technology, right? We get to video chat our loved ones and celebrate with them even when they’re far away. But then again, these social media networking sites aren’t meant to substitute for real-time, face to face conversations. They’re just here for interim purposes (this line reminds me of my journalism paper back in uni yo!).
I have so many things I want to share, so many things have happened today. Actually over the weekend and I want to write about it. But let’s just leave this post here. Let’s park this topic. Oh man, my brain wants to write more but I don’t want to end this on a sad note.
Mondays are the worst. I want to face tomorrow with a smile. I want to work harder, become better, and then leave with a light heart. My God, I pray for this anxious heart of mine to please calm tf down. Hahaha.
Cheer up, self. Things will get better.
P.S. I am addicted to TWICE's Alcohol Free. This song is my last song syndrome.
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purplesurveys · 3 years
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1199
America - What is your favorite place to eat?  I mean...these days I obviously haven’t been eating out at all, but I used to always enjoy dining at either Yabu (for the food) or La Creperie (for the ambience).
Australia - Do you have any quirks when speaking?  I don’t think so; or at least I don’t think I’d be aware of them unless someone points them out to me.
Austria - What kind of person do you wish to be?  What do some (or most) of these questions have to do with the countries? Lmao. Anyway, I just want to be remembered as being kind, I guess. I’m not aiming for anything grand.
Belarus - Is there anyone you love?  I’d do anything for my friends, close or otherwise.
Belgium - What do you think of your siblings? I like my sister; I care about her. I don’t really think much of my brother.
Botswana - Do you like to sing? Why or why not?  Yeah, but I only do it for myself. I never sing in front of others; I don’t think I’m that good.
Bulgaria - Who do you consider close to you?  My two best friends and everyone in my college friend group.
Cameroon - Describe your culture.  Folktales, hundreds of languages, more than just adobo and balut.
Canada - Favorite wintertime activity?  We don’t have winter.
China - What was the best moment of your life?  I don’t think I’ve had it yet; but so far the moments that are in the running for ‘best’ are my Paramore concert in 2018 and the day I found out I passed UP.
Cuba - What sort of grudges do you hold if any?  I haven’t talked to Marielle since the backstabbing incident in 5th grade, and I pretty much don’t talk to my uncle (unless we’re at a family gathering and I have to greet him for show) for all his past failures.
Cyprus - What hands-on activities do you like (drawing, carving, building, etc.)?  Embroidery! which I haven’t done in a long while but I’m definitely still into it.
Denmark - Do you wish for something of your past?  I wish I had more time with my relatives who died from Covid. Even a proper goodbye and a big, long hug from each of them would’ve sufficed.
Egypt - Do you stand up for what you believe in? How?  Sure. I speak up about it, educate others when I can, and raise awareness or reiterate my stance about certain issues by sharing posts on social media.
England - Are you controlling?  Depends on what context you’re talking about, because control can mean many different things. I’m a control freak when it comes to my work tasks and I know that can drive some people mad, especially those who prefer working independently.
Estonia - Do you think people often misunderstand you?  I think I’m pretty easy to read.
Finland - What do you prefer, kindness, sternness, or apathy?  In general, kindness; but I also don’t have any clue to what context these words pertain.
France - How do you show love for those you care for?  I like messaging them about things I see that remind me of them. I will also buy them small gifts from time to time, usually food that I know they like.
Germania - What is the hardest thing you have ever had to do?  Breaking up with Gabie, and accepting the said breakup. Both were equally difficult things to overcome and I’m just happy to be out of that part of my life.
Germany - Do you have a hard time forgiving yourself?  Yes. It takes me a while, if at all.
Ghana - What is our favorite sport?  You mean mine? I like pro wrestling, if that counts.
Greece - Do you let others help you when in need? I do, but I have a hard time asking for help. < Yeah. I will accept help when I finally acknowledge that I need it; but getting to the acknowledgment part can take me a while.
Hungary - Who is the person you trust most?  Either of my best friends.
Hutt River - What is the most memorable dream or nightmare you have had?  Back when I was at a low point I used to have recurring dreams of my girlfriend at the time dying. It sucks for the fact that my most unforgettable dreams are nightmares and for the fact that they all involve her, lol.
Hong Kong - Do you fear death?  Not really. I fear dying in a way that I wouldn’t want to experience, but I don’t fear the actual concept of death.
Iceland - Do you hide your real personality? Why?  I hide some parts from people I don’t know all that well or I’m not that close with; like I obviously wouldn’t have crackhead vibes with my clients at work lol. But outside of that I pretty much act the same way around everyone.
India - How important is family to you?  Quite, but it’s not my be-all and end-all.
Japan - Tell us a secret about yourself.  I don’t really have any. I share everything on this blog, anyway.
Kenya - What is your favorite wild animal?  Elephants.
Korea - What is one thing you accomplished by yourself?  Shooting my shot and landing an internship, and eventually a permanent job, at a company I had no connections with, all while I was heavily depressed and wasn’t really doing anything else to take care of myself. 
Kugelmugel - Is there anyone you have a love-hate relationship with?  My mom and I bicker all the time, but she is my mom.
Latvia - Do you believe you are brave?  I guess so.
Ladonia - What is the internet site you visit most often?  I’d say either Twitter or Facebook.
Liechtenstein - How do people underestimate you most often?  I don’t know if I can answer this; people usually don’t.
Lithuania - Do you desire power?  No. That implies being in the spotlight, which I don’t crave at all.
Macau - What is your favorite festival or celebration?  Christmas, only for the huge amount of food I get to freely eat.
Molossia - Do you consider yourself strong?  Emotionally, yeah. Also what is Molossia?
Monaco - Do you think you are a lucky person?  Not a big believer of luck.
New Zealand - Would you rather be an elf, dwarf, Hobbit, or wizard?  None of these.
North Italy - What is your least favorite part of your personality?  There are some parts to my sensitivity that I don’t really like, like my tendency to overthink remarks that were actually meant to be harmless.
Norway - What was the most disappointing time in your life?  All that time I spent being hung up on Gab and desperately talking to her post-breakup, mostly because of how much I neglected myself then. She was working a night shift then and I remember keeping on waking up at like 1 AM and the first thing on my mind always being to message her and UGH it’s just so embarassing to think about now.
Netherlands - Most generous thing someone has done for you?  That one time Andi half-walked and half-took a trike back to UP at 11 PM after already having gotten home, just to retrieve something I forgot to bring home and was having a breakdown about. It was really embarassing and they bring it up every once in a while to tease me, but we have a good laugh about it now.
Poland - Hardest thing you have gone through?  The breakup and deaths in the family.
Prussia - Would you prefer to live forever or die alone?  Live forever I guess, because I have serious FOMO HAHAHA
Roman Empire - How would you like to be remembered?  Like what I said at the start of this survey, just as someone who had been kind.
Romania - What is something you are very ashamed of?  I don’t think there is anything.
Russia - Have you ever suffered from low self esteem? Do you still?  I used to. Not really anymore. I’m liking myself more these days.
Sealand - Who is your best friend?  Angela and Andi.
Seborga - What is your favorite beverage?  Water or coffee.
Seychelles - How do you handle people being rude to you?  Be mean back, but in a passive-aggressive way.
South Italy - What is your favorite part of your personality?  I like that I’m generous and that I can remember a lot of different small details about everyone.
Spain - What would you tell to the person or people you hurt most if you had a second chance?  That she was right, I ended up being happier without her; and that I hope she can finally sleep well knowing she was right, considering our whole relationship was pretty much built on her wanting to be right about everything.
Sweden - Are you a leader, follower, or independent?  Follower.
Switzerland - Would you consider yourself evil, good, or neutral?  Chaotic neutral.
Thailand - How good is your poker face?  I don’t even understand poker.
Tibet - What do you value most?  Friendships, and my happiness.
Taiwan - What do you think of the people or person who raised you?  Grateful.
Turkey - Would you ever want children?  That would be nice, in a few years.
Uganda - How would you like others to see you?  I answered this question like twice already. It still applies hahaha.
Ukraine - What is one thing that has made you stronger in life?  The difficulties I was able to overcome.
Vietnam - What is something you are proud of about yourself?  ^ Those.
Wy - What kind of art do you like?  Paintings and films.
Zimbabwe - Who is your favorite character from any folklore?  I don’t like folktales.
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weirdestbooks · 3 years
Text
A Civil Disagreement Chapter 2
Insurrection
Alright so once again the territories that America hears are Unorganized Territory and Arkansas Territory, who have been joined by Michigan Territory. There's also Florida Territory, but he already has a countryhuman.
United States POV
August 21, 1831
"Father I feel sick." Virginia said as she walked into my room. I stood up from my desk and walked over to her. She was clutching her stomach like it was causing her pain.
'Nauseous then.'
'Is the regular sick or something bad is happening in my land sick?'
"Do you think it's being caused by something happening in your state?" I asked. Virginia nodded.
"I'm going to go see what's happening. If it's really bad I'll ask if you can send help." Virginia said before leaving for her state. I stood there and sighed. I hoped Virginia was okay, and that whatever is happening is that bad, but I knew better.
We don't feel pain for every event that happens. Whatever is happening in Virginia, it's bad, and that was worrying. Virginia is strong, and I know she'll be alright in the end, it's the the reactions of her siblings I fear.
'It's not your fault they have troubling getting along with each other.'
'You're here to help keep them together, not stop them from arguing about everything.'
But constant arguments reminded me so much of my relationship with the British Isles and Canada, before the Revolution. Arguments lead to the total destruction of our relationship. I was just so worried about my kids doing the same.
I didn't want the to have to feel the pain of fighting someone you once considered family. Even though I had disowned Canada, England, and Britain, fighting them hurt, because you can't forget the times when you used to be family.
But this one event won't start anything like that. I was just being paranoid. Everything is going to turn out fine in the end. I just need to stop thinking about the past. I didn't care about British Empire anymore. My Revolution was a good thing. I need to stop bringing it up. It's over. I'm an independent country. That war is over. I don't need to focus on it anymore. I need to focus on more important things, like Virginia.
I just hope whatever is happening isn't too bad.
—————————————————————————
I was talking to North Carolina, when Virginia came back from her state. She looked nauseous, and distressed.
"Are you alright Ginny?" North Carolina asked. Virginia shook her head.
"Father, there's a massacre happening in my state." Virginia said, her voice full of grief. My stomach dropped. Oh no. Oh no. Oh shit.
'A massacre?'
'What the hell happen?'
'Figure out what happened don't just stand there in shock!'
"What...What happened?" I said as I process the shocking news.
'You idiot! When Virginia told us something bad was happening in her states and affecting her, you should've known it was a bad thing.'
"A slave started an insurrection with a group of slaves. They're attacking and murdering my people. All of them! They aren't stopping at age or sex they're just fucking murdering every white person they see. Why the hell aren't you doing anything?" Virginia yelled at me, tears staring to stream down her face.
'How were we supposed to stop it?'
'She's upset. A tragedy just happened in her state. She's lashing out.'
'And we need to help her.'
"Ginny, oh my god, Ginny, how bad is it? How many people are dead?" North Carolina asked. Virginia started crying harder.
"I don't know, I don't know." She cried, "My people are dying and I don't know...I need you to help me Father."
I snapped out of my shock. Now wasn't the time for it. I wasn't sure what I could do. Virginia and her militias might have to deal with putting down the insurrection on her own.
"I...I'm not sure how fast my people will be able to get down there-if they can even get down there, but I'll see what I can do." I told Virginia. It wasn't a good answer, but it was the only one I could give. I had no idea if I would be able to get people in Virginia before the insurrection is over, or-god forbid-gets worse.
—————————————————-
Virginia POV
I took a shaky breath. My people were being massacred, dying, because a bunch of slaves decided to kill them. And all Father said was that he could do his best. Is he serious? My people are dying!
"Pa, are you sure you can't do anything?" North Carolina asked. She had to be worried. The county this massacre is talking place in is right next to her. Her people could die too! Sad had to do something. Saying that he would try to help wasn't enough.
It's not like he had to get Congress involved. Even if he did, the North would probably continue to pretend they don't like slavery for moral reasons, and is this as an excuse for why slavery was wrong, even if they just hated slavery for economic ones. They're a bunch of hypocrites.
"Father! You can't just leave me to deal with this you have to do something. They killed children! They killed people who were kind to slaves. I heard one of them say that they had to kill all the white people! You can't expect me to deal with this on my own!" I told him, tears coming our harder.
North Carolina came over to hug me while Father looked conflicted. Why did he look conflicted? My people were dead, my people were dying! He had to do something, anything, that would put a stop to the murder and death in Southampton County.
"I...I...can't promise anything. I want to help...but I can't be sure the government will help. You know we're our people, not our governments. I want to help you Ginny, but...but I don't know when I'll be able to help." He said.
"How about you help before more of my people die?" I snapped before going to leave. If Father wasn't going to be here for me, then I could at least be their for my people.
"Where are you going?" North Carolina asked.
"To help my people. Something you should be doing Father." I said before bringing myself back to my land, back to my county. Even if I was a girl, I would stand by my people and my militias and make sure that this massacre was stopped.
Father may have a lot to manage with all of my siblings, but that didn't mean he couldn't help me. My people were in danger, my people were dying, and Father didn't want to do anything? These were his people too, not just mine
I'll try wasn't a good answer.
———————————————————
August 23, 1831
I walked through the town, feeling the quiet shock and grief of the atmosphere. No one had expected an attack by the slaves. No one expected a massacre on this scale. Over 50 of my people have been killed in this massacre.
The only people the slaves didn't try to kill were poor white people. Why? I don't know. But it was a small mercy. Because they killed anyone else they could.
Over 50 of my people were now dead and Father never did anything to help. My militias, North Carolina's militias, and a few men from two of Father's ships, but no one else helped.
Father didn't help me.
We had killed many of the slaves in involved with this massacre and were planning the execution of the slaves we had captured. North Carolina, when she came into my state on the second day of the massacre, told me she had told our southern siblings of the massacre, who were now fearful of the slaves in their states doing something similar.
And those fears weren't helped by the fact that the leader of this massacre, Nat Turner, has escaped the militias, and now we had no idea of his whereabouts. This was terrifying. That murder could go to another town and incite a massacre there.
Nat Turner needed to be caught and executed for his crimes. Once he was it would be a lot safer for my people.
"Virginia." I heard Father say as he came up to me. I turned around and saw Father standing there, a guilty look on his face.
"You didn't help." I said, grief heavy in my voice. So many of my people had died. Maybe if Father had helped me, there would be less bodies to bury.
"I'm sorry." He said, "There was nothing I could do with my government. But you and North were able to handle it well."
Handle it well? My people were murdered and all Father could say was that I handle that massacre well! If I had handled it well 50 of my people wouldn't be dead right now!
"My people are dead." I said. Father flinched and frowned.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't the best wording. I'm just trying to say that I hate that this massacre happened, but you and North were able to handle it well, without my help." He said. I scowled.
Father really thought saying that he was proud of me was going to make up for the deaths of my people? For the fear they had to feel from their slaves?
That wasn't acceptable. I looked up at Father and saw the guilt in his eyes. I sighed. Father really did want to help. And we are our people, not our governments.
"Help me make sure something like this never happens again." I told Father. He gave me a slight smile before nodding.
"I will try." He said. I frowned. Why did Father insist on giving that half answer? It wasn't like it was a hard question. Father was either going to help me, or leave me to deal with things like massacres on my own.
"You can't keep saying you'll try too. Yes or no question! You're just avoiding it!" I snapped at Father, tired of his half answers. If the answer really was no, then he should just say that to my face, instead of dancing around the issue.
"I'm not trying to avoid it!" Father quickly protested, putting his hands in the air. His eyes grew wide and panicked, and I tried to tone down my anger.
I had witnessed Father's revolution. I know the emotional pain that he went through, that we went through. I know it still bothers him, regardless of how much he tries to his it. I was the first state to get a spot as a voice in Father's head. I have been with him since the beginning. I know Father cares for people very deeply.
I know he probably did all that he could to try and get his government to help me. But even if his government didn't want to help me that didn't mean Father couldn't help me, maybe not as the federal government, but as my Father.
So I still needed an answer. If witnessing Father's revolution taught me anything, it's that being someone's parent doesn't give you an excuse to treat them however you like. British Empire learned that the hard way. I hope Father makes sure to keep that in mind so he'll never have to take the hard way.
I want my family to stay together. Even if we argue, we still love each other. Losing any of my siblings would cause me more grief than I could imagine.
"Then give me an answer. I proper one this time." I said. Father looked conflicted and paused, his eyes becoming slightly distant. I smiled slightly. I knew that the territories were probably arguing and giving him a headache. I was guilty of giving Father several when me and my siblings fought in his head.
"I can't control who'll be in government next time something like this happens. I can't promise I'll be able to help you." Father began. I raised an eyebrow.
"But..." I said, wanting to hear the part I knew was going to be added on.
"I will, if I'm able to, help you." He said. I smiled. That was enough for me.
And for now. But who knows what'll come in the future. This agreement might not be enough.
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icykalisartblog · 3 years
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Major Kira/Keiko O’Brien One-Shot: “Born of Arid Conditions”
I really like Kira and Keiko together! I had trouble finding fics that were close to my interpretations of the characters and relationship dynamics (I really wanted to see Kira helping Keiko grapple with the unhealthy nature of her marriage to Miles), so tried I writing a fic myself:
Born of Arid Conditions 
When Kira strode into the O’Briens’ quarters, she beamed. Being surrounded by foliage reminded her of hunting for arachnids to eat in the Bajoran underbrush. Despite the horrors of war that enveloped those times, memories of successful hunts still gave her a high.
Keiko—Kira was finally used to calling her that instead of Professor O’Brien—was writing a label for one of her new specimens when she lifted her head and greeted her. “Hi, Nerys. The children are asleep so we should keep our voices down.” She waved just by curling and uncurling her fingers. Kira knew her hands were soft and smooth. What an interesting picture they must make digging though rocky soil.
Kira nodded and crossed the room to stand by her side. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bateret like this.” The plant was often burned at festivals or compressed into incense, but this one had fiery orange streaks across its stem that rose to color the leaves.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Keiko smiled, showing her teeth. They were so pretty. Kira had never found teeth so pretty before. “There’s so much hidden taxonomic complexity within bateret. I think this could be a new subspecies.”
“It almost looks like it’s catching fire.”
“Doesn’t it? It’s fitting, too, because this color form only appears in arid conditions.”
That explained why Kira had never seen anything like it. She had never traveled to one of the hot deserts. “Whenever I visit after you’ve come back from a survey, it’s like I’m catching another glimpse of my home.”
Keiko stuck the label to the pot. “I’m glad you feel that way. I wish Miles appreciated it.” She glanced down at the desk, like a guilty negotiator trying to hide something. Immediately, Kira felt bad for making the connection. Keiko continued, in a whisper, “He says it’s like I’m trying to push him out of our quarters by bringing new specimens in.”
“He doesn’t like them? But you’ve always been a botanist, haven’t you? He must’ve known what he was signing up for when he married you!” Kira cleared her throat. It was hard to keep her voice down. “I mean, I’d be happy to receive flowers from my spouse. O-Or other plants, I’d be happy to see anything growing on this station.” She had probably said “spouse” because she was thinking of the O’Briens’ situation.
“You understand... why can’t he see it that way?” Keiko was a mother of two who often went on months-long scientific missions, but Kira had never seen her look so tired before. “Why can’t she be more like y—” She blushed.
“More like... a woman? Do you wish he were a woman?” Kira stepped back, giving her some space.
“No, that’s not it.” Keiko sighed and shook her head. She turned in her chair to resolutely meet Kira’s gaze. “Not like just any woman. I meant more like you, Nerys. I should own what I mean.”
Taken aback, Kira put her hands against her belly. Often, she still felt the empty space Kirayoshi once filled, and she missed the days when Keiko would curl up with her on the couch and massage her there.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil your appetite.” Keiko hurriedly left her chair behind and avoided grazing Kira as she passed her by. “I suppose I shouldn't warm up the leftovers.”
"No, of course I want the leftovers. That's why I came, after all." Even though Kira was used to infiltrating enemy territory and going undercover, it was a struggle not to raise her voice. “Keiko, what’s the matter? I thought we were all fine with how... close we’ve become.” Feelings rarely played by agreed-upon rules, but it was a starting point.
Keiko froze but did not turn around. “Of course we’re fine with it, but it’s not right to prefer you to my husband, Nerys. I shouldn’t even be comparing how I feel about you with you I feel about him.”
There was nothing to do besides march up to her and spin her around. Kira’s earring jingled from the motion. “Listen, I know I’ve never been married, but I know that’s not true. There isn’t any rule against feeling your feelings or thinking about them, Keiko.”
“I know that, but I love Miles, and we’ve been working on these issues for so long, I can’t throw that away because... oh no, what if Molly wakes up and hears this?” she choked out.
Kira ignored the question. “I loved Shakaar and we were together since before the pregnancy, and I didn’t hear you arguing that I shouldn’t break up with him. I broke up with him because he never seemed to have enough time for me, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Nerys, what are you saying?” She used the same tone she used when asking students to rephrase answers.
“Shakaar and I never went six months without visiting each other.”
Keiko huffed. “Miles and I have video calls when I’m away on Bajor. And he set me up on those expeditions because he knew I needed a proper venue to conduct my botanical research—it shows the strength of our marriage.”
Kira gestured to the panoply of leafage that surrounded them. “And why did you agree to live on a station where he could explore his passion for engineering and you couldn’t do the work you loved in the first place?”
“We’ve been over this. We needed a safe place for our children. It wasn’t really about the two of us.” But the quiver in her lip and the way she crossed her arms proved she was trying to convince herself, not Kira.
“This station that was built by Bajoran slave labor, this station the Cardassians are eager to steal back from us, this station that’s nearly either being attacked or falling apart every other day? This station?”
Instead of rage and tears, Keiko shut her eyes and chuckled. It surprised Kira into letting her slip away to the couch they had shared so many times. She lay down and stretched, and even in her exhausted state, she moved with such grace. When Kira sat down at her feet, expecting her to elaborate.
When Keiko said nothing, Kira said, “I didn’t think you’d find how dangerous the station is funny.”
Keiko’s eyes opened just a sliver. “It’s not that. I was just thinking about Miles and me,” she said. “Whenever we hash something out, it feels so different. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“I think you owe it to yourself to try, Keiko.” Kira leaned in, supporting herself by holding the backrest.
“There’s this weight hanging over us, even when the fight ends, at least there’s one hanging over me,” Keiko said.
“A weight? Do you mean dread?”
“Not exactly. I think... resignation would be a better word to use.” The circles under her eyes were dark enough to look like bruises. It made Kira’s heart ache. “Like I know we haven’t found a solution, we’ve only agreed not to discuss it anymore. But I don’t feel the weight when we argue.” Keiko underwent a transformation as she smiled, as if she was gazing out at a wildlife sanctuary waiting to be surveyed. “Do you remember when we first met?”
It had been years ago, when the Federation's presence on the station was still fresh. Even though the fires of Kira's passion for a strong, independent Bajor were burning stronger than ever, she had learned since that time that diversity was a part of that strength. “When we argued over the school curriculum? I thought I’d found an enemy, not a...” She searched for the right word. “Friend” was not intimate enough to describe what they were for each other. She knew she had tripped over the distinction between friends and lovers in the past, and was not keen on doing so again. But they were not lovers yet, inexplicably, and “girlfriend” was too immature. “...you know.” She looked away. 
“Yes, Nerys, of course I know.” It was obvious from her tone of voice that Keiko was about to laugh, so Kira felt no shame for fumbling. “I never could relate to what Garak and Julian saw in debates until the two of us starting spending more time time together.” 
Kira snorted and she felt her nose ridges tighten. “Don’t compare us with them.” She turned so Keiko could soak in her sour look. 
“No? You don’t think Aunt Nerys, and Uncles Julian and Garak are all part of a big, happy family?” She stuck her tongue out, and when she pulled it back in, a contemplative expression crossed her face. “I always thought Molly would be heartbroken if I...” She did not have to elaborate. 
Taking one of Keiko’s supple hands, Kira shook her head. “I think I’d know how hard it can be coming from a broken family, but you can’t know if Molly would find that harder to live with, or if she’d be hurt even more if you don’t do anything,” she said. “Imagine the example you’d be setting for her if you keep things as they are. You’d be telling her that staying with someone who makes you unhappy is what you have to do. That you can bring in other people to love, but that you can’t leave someone who doesn’t treat you right. Do you want her to take that as a lesson from you?”
“No.” The word came out like a sigh. Keiko pushed herself up, and Kira could feel her breath on her face. “But what will this family look like in the aftermath? I know you have your eye on someone else, I don't want to hold you back. For all I know, I might have to move to Bajor permanently if this conflict with the Dominion escalates. And then we might be the ones not seeing each other for six-month stretches.” 
If Keiko had pulled out the disapproving teacher look earlier, it was fair game for Kira to put the exasperated diplomat look in return. “I think you,” she said, reaching out and poking Keiko’s cheek for emphasis, “had better get out of this draining, dreadful relationship—and you admitted it was full of dread, don’t argue—before you try rushing into a better one.” 
Keiko batted Kira’s fingers away with one hand, but then squeezed Kira’s hand with the other. “Fine, I guess I don’t want to chase anybody. I don’t want to do whatever Miles keeps trying on Julian.”
“Jadzia said it’s called ‘negging.’” That had been a wild conversation, but then again, so was every conversation with Dax. If only she could convince Dax to spend more time with Keiko—Keiko would have some fun, and Dax just might learn to keep a plant alive. “It’s a good thing Julian has no idea.” 
“No, he knows, he keeps up the darts games because he feels sorry for him and for me, since I have to deal with Miles’s bad mood.” 
Kira chuckled for a moment, then paused. Had Keiko tried to sneak something past her? She would not let that stand. “Wait a minute, circle back to what you were saying before. Who is this someone else I have my eye on?”
Her mind was open to new teaching styles, alien cultures, different types of families, new species of plants and more, yet Keiko seemed scandalized by this statement of all things. “You’re kidding. You really don’t know?” 
“Who have I been seeing in that light other than you since Shakaar?” Kira asked. “I don’t know what rumors Jadzia and Quark and have starting, but—”
“Oh, Kira. Remember the other day, when you asked me for the most beautiful, complicated flowering plant I could find?” 
“You mean for Odo’s quarters, so he could practice shapeshifting into it as it grew? What does that have to do with anything—”
A knocking came from behind them, from the door to the bedroom. “Aunt Nerys?” Molly’s voice sounded quiet, the veil of sleep was obvious. 
Keiko froze. Kira moved her hand to her shoulder, giving her support. “Yes, Molly, it’s me!” Kira called. “You can come out and see me and your mommy.” 
Molly crept out, squinting as she walked into the light of the living room. “What’re you doing here? It’s late.” 
Despite her nerves, Keiko nodded to Kira and stood up from the couch. “Nerys came over to have some leftovers, sweetie.” “Can I have it too?” Molly’s eyes were sparkling. 
“I thought you said the hasperat soufflé was too spicy for you!” Keiko said. 
Kira stood up to stand by her side. “She’ll never learn to handle it if she doesn’t try it.” She gently nudged Keiko with her elbow. She felt a pang of longing to feel her hands on her belly again. 
“Okay, okay, but only a small portion this time.” Keiko brushed past Kira, but took a moment to look back at her. The same longing seemed reflected in her features. “...Nerys, I have to ask... do you think, once the situation with the Dominion cools down... you’d want to come with us on one of the surveys of Bajoran flora? It could be like a vacation.” 
 “Of course.” She ran her fingers through Keiko’s silky hair. “I’d love to.” 
“Yeah!” Molly exclaimed, rushing over. She tugged at Kira’s uniform. “You can tell us more of your stories,” she said. “Don’t tell daddy, but I like your war stories better than his.” 
Keiko gasped. 
Somehow, Kira knew everything would be fine. 
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ryik-the-writer · 3 years
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Note: I started this fic way back in 2016, and had this Thanksgiving-themed chapter planned in advance.
Over four years and several bouts of depression-induced writers blocks later, I’m glad to finally get it out. 
I present to you: Marinara Main - Burnt Bits I . Feat. Rumbelle and a big dash of baby! swanfire.
A03
Mr. Gold pulled into Belle’s next stop, smiling at her apologetic grin as she jumped out and grabbed two pizzas from the back and bounded up the stairs to her customer’s home.
It had been two months since Belle’s French Bread’s business car had burst into flames, setting off a chain of events that involved him lending his assistance, or just his vehicle really, on her deliveries and them dating on the side. It was where they could be together without the mocking or overbearing look from the town. It was theirs, and even if Belle was delivering pizzas and Gold was just watching from the window, they were together and having the seats smell like melted cheese was worth every second.
“How’d it go?” he inquired when she jumped back in the front seat.
She leaned in and kiss his 5 o’clock shadowed cheek. “$6 tip.”
“Hmm. I should have glared at him a little more, make him drop a full $10.”
Belle gave him an unamused look. “I asked you not to scare my customers.”
“Just making sure they’re not gouging you, dear.”  
Belle sighed. She knew her sweetheart meant well, but she valued her independence. She swallowed her pride when he offered her his car for the sake of her family’s business, and held her head tall when she moved into his spare room after her accident, but drew the line with him bullying her customers into paying her sums she wasn’t offered.
It was there last delivery of the night so Belle decided to drop the disagreement for now. She had other things to worry about anyway.
“Didn’t you say Bae had an old bike gathering dust in your garage?”
“I’ve began using it as a garden decoration it’s been sitting around for so long. Why?”
“How much would you want for it?” she hated equating money into their conversations. It was gross reminder of their status difference, something he swore up and down he kept forgetting about but haunted her.
Mr. Gold slowed to a stop at the stop light. “Belle, I apologize for earlier. I was just being facetious, I swear.”
Belle paused. “Thank you for that, but what does that have to do with the bike?”
“You don’t want me to drive you around anymore.”
Belle cringed at the accusation. “That’s not it at all!”
He sagged in his seat with relief and Belle couldn’t help but laugh, relaxing when he joined her. They really needed to work on not jumping to conclusions.
“What do you need a bike for then?” He inquired.
“I don’t want you working on Thanksgiving.” She answered.
Gold looked at her. “Your father is making you work on the holiday? Is he mad?”
Belle rolled her eyes. She wondered sometimes if her father really was.
“No, just blinded by dollar signs. I read him something about how in China people have fried chicken instead of turkey and now he’s convinced that if we’re open people will forgo the turkey and order a pizza.”
“Logical.” Gold deadpanned, speeding up at the green light. “As for the bike, never you mind. You can borrow my car.”
“Won’t you and Bae be going away for the holiday?”
Mr. stared at the road ahead. “It’s always been just the two of us. Not much to celebrate really.”
Belle felt her heart sink, knowing that story all too well. After her mom died, Belle had her father spent many holidays in their quiet home with TV dinners in their laps and a game blaring. After he opened the business, holidays got livelier but there was still this sickening loneliness that bounced around in her gut.
“Well, I’ll just have to convince my dad to close shop early.”
Gold blinked from his gaze and turned to her. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to need his help turkey shopping if we’re having you and Bae over.”
Gold startled back the horn, his hands flinching around a he tried to grasp the proposition.
“I…no Belle really. We couldn’t impose.”
“You’d be doing me a favor actually. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving meal in years.”
Gold pulled into the parking lot of French Bread. He wanted to say know, wanted to save her the burden of having him invade her home on a day that was restricted for family. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful gleam in her eyes.
He sighed and nodded. Belle squealed and nearly jumped into his seat, kissing him roughly on the cheek.
“This is going to be great! I got to go make out a menu! I’ll call you tomorrow!”
He said nothing as she charged from his car to her business. He waited until the light came on before he made his way quietly home.
After checking on Bae’s homework situation, he stepped into his office and discretely pulled out the antique ring he had planned to offer Belle.
He wanted to be excited, and in a way, he was. His son would be able to have more festive holiday and he’d be able to spend more time with Belle, and hopefully find the right time to ask her the big question.
But crowds were not his forte, and he still wasn’t sure how her “boys” felt about him, let alone her father. He did not want to face another kidnapping escapde like he did on “poker night.”
Sighing, he left the ring alone for now, making a mental note to stop by the liquor store on his way to Belle’s tomorrow for two bottles of wine: one for tonight and another for the holiday.
-,-,-,-,-
Belle double-checked her table setting as fidgeted around the small kitchen of her and her father’s apartment.
Five plates were set: her and her father’s, Mr. Gold’ and Bae’s, and a guest her father had invited that may or may not show up.
Jefferson and Grace were heading to Jefferson’s in-laws, whom they both hated but had to visit at least once a year to avoid a nasty custody battle (which often lead to a week of pre-panic attacks from Jefferson; thank God they put that cot in the backroom).
Merlin was heading to dinner near Boston for a football game, and then to a children’s hospital, and Will was meeting Anastasia’s parents for the first time and asked only for prayers.
Belle checked the clock; it was just past 12:30 and “dinner” started at 2:30. She never quite understood this tradition of eating so early, but decided not to argue when she had five stomachs to worry about.
Belle hummed as she thought about her father. He had left early in the morning to pick up their “mystery guest”.
Thank Gods.
Moe French had started their pizzeria on a whim all those years ago, and really had no legit culinary skills. If it weren’t for her and Merlin jumping in and secretly taking over, French Bread’s would have literally burned to the ground. All his recipes had to be seriously revamped, but thankfully Moe was out half the time, handling the books or the equipment or something else that kept him far away from the food.  
Just as Belle was checking the turkey’s temperature, a knock thundered through her father’s tiny apartment. Belle panicked a bit. Whoever was at the door was extremely early, and the she had no idea how she would entertain them for two hours while she tried to finish the meal.
She threw her oven mitts on the table and rushed to answered the door before anything burned, blinking at who was there.
“Hey,” Jefferson smiled shyly.
“Hi Jeff,” Belle greeted, stepping aside to allow them entry. “What can I…”
She glanced around him and noticed Grace wasn’t with him, which wasn’t a surprise, but he was supposed to be with her.
Belle asked bit urgently. It was no secret that Jefferson had major issues with his late-girlfriend’s family. They never thought he was good enough for her, and all but disowned her when she fell pregnant. Following her death when Grace was just over a year old, they suddenly wanted sole custody. Pinning down a job at French Bread’s had been the first step to securing Grace’s future, and Belle had been so patience with his back-and-forth court dates while he sorted himself out.
She only hoped something wasn’t stopping him from attending his mandatory dinner.
“What’s going on?”
“They um…” Jefferson shrugged. “I…decided not to go.”
Belle eyed him carefully, seeing the bags under his eyes.
“Ah,” Belle said with an affirmative nod, knowing now that she couldn’t turn him away, holiday or not. Her and the rest of the French Bread’s crew were all he really had.
She stepped aside. “You’re on dishes duty.”
“Deal!” Jefferson gasped, pulling her close and giving her a smack on the cheek so loud it made Belle’s ears ring.
“Down boy!” Belle hissed, giving him a playful smack. “You stir the beans while I move the table around.”
Belle had just placed two more plates down when someone knocked on the door yet again.
She answered it with a huff, and was a bit surprised to see Merlin enter, a brown bag in his hand.
“Hi,” she greeted a bit uneasily. Merlin had left after closing yesterday to make his trip, and wasn’t due back until Sunday. By the look on his face, he hadn’t stopped to rest.
She ushered him to the kitchen where Jefferson pulled out a chair for him to sit.
“What is it?” she asked earnestly, unnerved to see her strong-minded friend in such a state.
“Nimue was at my hotel,”
Belle and Jefferson both paled. Belle didn’t know all the details about Merlin’s borderline insane ex-girlfriend, but did know that he came to Storybrooke to get away from her.
“How did she know you were there?”
“I have no idea,” Merlin sighed, exhausted. “I saw her before she saw me, and I got out of there as fast as possible,”
Belle nodded, sharing a look with Jefferson.
“How about you stay for dinner,” Belle insisted. “We’ll walk you home tonight.”
Merlin began to stand, muttering something about not wanting to impose, and Belle had to stand on her toes to weigh him down.
“You’re imposing as much as Jefferson over here is,” Belle joked. “Help me figure out this new table arrangement.”
As her friends helped her in the kitchen, Belle glanced down at her phone. Nothing from Gold or Bae yet.
Belle frowned, wondering what was keeping her kind-of boyfriend and his son, and more importantly if she was going to be able to fit them in her tiny apartment now that there were so many extra people.
Just as she about to pull out the chair she had in her bedroom, the doorbell sounded once more.
“I’ll get it,” Merlin volunteered. Like Belle, he hoped it was the Gold’s.
The resounded “oh” he released afterwards gave Belle the answer she needed.
“Hello darlings!” came a high accented voice.
Everyone turned as a tall blonde woman head to toe in scarlet entered Belle’s tiny living room, wearing sunglasses that left only the tip of her nose exposed.
She gasped and inspected Belle’s home like a tourist who has stepped foot onto Time Square for the first time, even looking at her and her guests like they were performers.
Merlin and Belle exchanged curious looks, and just as she was about to ask who the tell was in her home, Will came bounding through the house, throwing a series of suitcases into her entryway.
He collapsed against the door, looking up with her a nervous smile.
“Hey…”
“Hi,” Belle greeted, eyeing the blond as she examined her father’s dusty shelf of knickknacks. “What’s uh…what’s going on, Will?”
Just as she said that the woman turned around, approaching Belle with a wide smile.
“Darling, thank you so much for having us,” she said as she kissed Belle’s cheek.
Belle stared at her wide-eyed, shooting another at Will.
“You remember, Belle,” Will said with a strained smile. “You said you wanted Ana and I here for Thanksgiving and you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Belle’s eye twitched. “Of course…” she said, her mind going into overdrive as she struggled to think how she was going to fit nine damn people at two-person table.
She snuck a calming breath. This is what holidays were about, and there was no way in Hell she was turning Will, a man she saw as a brother, out the door.
Besides, she and the other men of French Bread’s were wondering about this mystery girl Will would take weekends off to see, would take extra shifts for so that he could make a few extra bucks. The four of them had everything on the table when it came to each other, all their past and present secrets.
Or so Belle thought.
Still, she smiled whole-heartedly. “It’s great to meet you, Ana,”
Ana offered a wide, glass-like smile. “Thank you, your home is so,” she glanced around. “…simple!”
All the goodwill Belle was ready to extend crumbled around her, and it was then all the little details Belle had noticed about her had gathered together.
High quality clothes and accessories, gawking at simple, working people.
She was a rich bitch. Like Regina, like countless other people who turned her nose up at people like them.
Belle glanced at Will. Did he know? Did he care?
His gaze was pitiful, begging her not to say anything.
He did know then. Belle felt a bite of betrayal on her heart. Why would he deliberately associate with someone like her, someone who would only hurt him.
A calming hand met her shoulder, and Belle met Merlin’s warning glare.
“Ana,” he greeted. “Please make yourself at home. Belle, Will and I are going to work on the seating situation.”
Ana nodded, a pleased gasp escaping her lips when she studied her father’s tacky decorations.
Merlin steered Belle and Will into the kitchen where he and Jefferson had watched the exchange.
“Thanks for the heads-up, Will,” Belle sighed exhaustedly.
“It was really last-minute, I’m sorry,” Will said.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”
Will’s gaze melted into a glare. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“Okay,” Merlin said, moving between them. “How about we try to get through dinner before we start class warfare, okay?”
Belle and Will glared at each other, but it was Belle’s whose gaze lowered first.
“You’re right,” Belle agreed. “We have to figure out this seat issue before we all end up in the park.”
Will met her smile. They’d work it out, but now they had to make an already stressful day suitable for everyone, including his unexpected guest.
“What if we ate on the floor, Chinese-style?” Jefferson suggested.
They all chuckled, the sour mood broken some.
“That might be our only option, hands in everyone,”
Four hands piled on each other as a plan came into place. They were putting on Thanksgiving dinner even if a wall had to be torn down.
“One…”
“Two…”
“Three!”
                                                          0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Meanwhile…
“Stop moving!” Emma gnashed Baelfire as she glared at his puffy finger under the high-powered magnified glass in his father’s study, the glistening stone of Belle’s hopefully-soon-to-be engagement ring glistening.
“Sorry,” Bae sniffed, and Emma sighed.
“Hold it together, Bae,” Emma warned gently, reaching out to pat his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t…well actually this is your fault.”
“It’s as much as my fault as it is yours,” Bae barked. It had been a joke, when he tried on the ring he found on his father’s desk. He’d brought it to Emma and the two gushed and joked at the engagement that was to come, ready to giddily tease Bae’s father when he came out of the shower, and get the details about the obvious proposal on the way. But when Bae had slipped it on—just as a joke mind you— he knew instantly there was a problem. It was too tight, and his finger began turning pink from the strain.
Now they were struggling to get the thing off, half dressed in their holiday best for Thanksgiving dinner.
Emma released an aggravated sigh. “We’re going to have to go to the hospital.”
“But we’ll lose the ring!”
“I think your dad would rather lose the ring than your finger!” Emma argued.
Bae pondered quickly. This would ruin everything.
The ring had belonged to his dad’s Aunt Genevieve, one half of the spinster aunts that raised him. They died long before Bae was even born, but with all the stories he told of them, of how much they loved each other during a time where the law and world wouldn’t see them as one, he already knew them.
The ring was one of love, one that his father had held onto and hadn’t even given to Bae’s mother (she was more of a diamond person). But Belle would appreciated the story behind it, and she would wear it with pride.
No!
Bae jumped up and began desperately searching for anything that could be used to slide off the ring.
“Let’s go get some dish soap,” Bae began to suggest when the sound of his father leaving the bathroom echoed from the hall.
“Well, we’re screwed,” Emma shrugged.
“Not yet,” Bae denied, mind reeling with thought. If his dad caught them, they’d be at the hospital with a saw before they knew what hit them!
“Check the desks,” Bae suggested in a hoarse whispered. “Maybe he has ink or oil from his antiques or something!”
Emma gasped. “We have baby oil at my place! We can sneak it out before my parents catch on!”
“Yes!” Bae hissed, heading to the door.
“Bae, where are you?” Gold called close by, causing Emma and Bae to shrink back.
Emma glanced around and made a b-line to the window. She opened it and made a quick survey of the distance and began stepping out.
“What are you doing!” Bae hissed, panicked.
“What does it look like?” Emma hissed back. “We should be find if we jump from here.”
“Jump! Off the roof?” Bae squeaked.
Emma glared up at him from her place near the gutters. “You want to risk it or you want to wait for your dad to find us and kill you for sure.”
Bae glanced back to the door where he could hear his father moving about. With a groan, he stepped out of the window, gripping the tiles for dear life as Emma led them to the draining pipe.
“Hold on tight and slowly slide down,” Emma instructed, easing onto the pipe.
“How do you know about this?” Bae whined as he watched her slide down like a firefighter on a pole.
Emma gave him a look when she hit the ground, placing her hands on her hips and waiting for him expectedly.
Gulping, Bae took hold of the pipe, trying to steady his breathing as he tried to gain a hold. He tried to up it with his shoes, but slipped instantly, having to grab the gutter to keep from falling.
“Shit, shit!” Emma gasped as Bae hung from the gutter. “Just…don’t think about the ground!”
“Thanks for the adv—”
The gutter snapped, and Bae managed to hold onto the bending metal until it started snapping off the foundation and Bad landed head-first into a neatly trimmed shrub.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” Emma panicked, grabbing hold of Bae’s leg. “Please be alive, please be alive…”
Bae groaned and slowly sat up, his face scratched and eyes unfocused.
“Anything feel broken?” Emma asked as she carefully picked leaves and twigs out of his curls.
“My brain’s still shaking, hang on,” Bae groaned.
“Bae?” Gold’s voice echoed from the office above.
“Break’s over!” Emma hissed, grabbing Bae and dragged him through the back garden and down the street.
                                                    0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Mary Margaret Nolan was –understandably – quite surprised when she answered the door and found the young Baelfire Gold and her daughter standing on her steps.
“Hi Mrs. Nolan,” Bae greeted with just the lightest air of nervousness.
“Hi, Bae,” Mary Margaret greeted uncertainly. “I…wasn’t expecting you. Emma, it’s nearly dinner time. Your grandparents are here…”
“He won’t be here long,” Emma cut in, grabbing Bae’s arm and drug him up the stairs.
“Hold it,” Mary Margaret called after them. “You know the rules, Emma…”
“We’re not going to my room!” Emma called back, rolling her eyes. She never understood why her parent’s suddenly put the “no boys in bedroom” rule in place earlier that year. Bae’s dad let them be by their selves at their place, especially on their video game-movie-pizza nights in the basement.
Oh well.
Keeping a glance over her shoulder, she led Bae to baby Neal’s room, watching every step to avoid making even the slightest noise.
“Maybe I should do it,” Bae suggested when they stood outside his room.
“No,” Emma resisted, slowly turning the knob. “If he sees you, he might freak out. Just be quiet.”
Bae rolled his eyes but stayed outside the room, waiting impatiently as Emma tip-toed into her baby brother’s room to grab the baby oil.
His father was bound to start calling him or the Nolan’s soon. They needed to get the ring off and back to his place soon.
“Find it yet, Emma?” Bae hissed as he opened the door a crack, meeting baby Neal’s large green eyes.
Bae grinned nervously at the babe, not entirely sure how to act around children. Apparently it wasn’t the right thing because Neal burst out screaming at the site of him.
“Damn it Bae,” Emma cursed, grabbing his arm and pulling him from Neal’s room as Mrs. Nolan called up the stairs.
Emma dragged him into the bathroom just as Mary Margaret sped up the steps to comfort Neal, leaving the two teens holding their breaths and listening to every step she took.
Emma snatched Bae’s hand to hold over the sink, dousing it with baby oil and trying desperately to yank the ring off.
“You’re pulling my whole damn finger!” Bae cursed, yanking away hard and hitting the door.
Emma dropped the baby oil, the plastic echoing through the small bathroom sounding like a bomb.
“Emma?” Mary Margaret’s voice rang, knocking on the door a second later.
Emma quickly locked it, flinching when her mother gasped and began wriggling the knob.
“Emma Ruth Nolan what is going on in there!”
Bae muttered a word that his father would have grounded him a month for while Emma began pushing open the tiny bathroom window.
“We’ve got to risk it,” she gasped, her blond locks flying wildly as she judged their distance.
“Oh…no!” Bae shook his head, stepping back. “I am not going through another window!”
Mary Margaret continued to pound on the door, shaking the knob profusely.
“That’s it young lady…David!”
Emma and Bae stiffened. David Nolan was a great man, but as a father he was more terrifying than a rabid bat in a Halloween haunted house when it came to his children’s well-being.
As they heard the Nolan patriarch’s boots shake the house, Emma and Bae scrambled to the window, now suddenly eager to make a quick get-away.
“Me first, he wants my blood!” Bae hissed.
“No!” Emma seethed, pushing Bae away by his face. “Me first, and watch me this time so you don’t die!”
Bae reluctantly stepped back and helped Emma ease out of the small bathroom window legs-first, sweating profusely as Mrs. Nolan relayed the locked door situation to Mr. Nolan.
“Hurry it up!” he begged as Emma grabbed his collar to pull him unceremoniously through the tiny window as her father began banging on the door.
“You have a big head, Bae!” Emma snapped as they struggled to get his shoulders through the window. Hearing Mr. Nolan’s booming voice threatening to break the door (and Bae’s legs—thought that may have been his anxiety spiraling), Bae wormed his way out until he clutching the tiles of Emma’s roof.
Emma had already located the steady gutter near her room and called out to Bae to follow her lead.
“Slowly…slowly!” she instructed as Bae struggled to grasp onto the gutters with his swollen finger. “Our gutters are cheaper than yours.”
Bae growled as he slid down the tiles, the toe of his shoe sliding over the metal of the gutter.
Just as he thought he had a chance to get off this damn roof without injury, the tell-all sound of the bathroom door bursting open shocked him to the point that he lost his grip on the roof and went spiraling down.
Emma released the drain and flew down the extra five feet, hitting the ground hard.
“Bae?” she cried, helping her friend turn over.
Bae groaned, holding his head as he looked at his best friend.
“We’re having a talk about all this when this is over.”
Emma smirked and helped him up. “Let’s get to Belle’s.”
Just as the words left her mouth the two youths heard a loud bang from upstairs.
They managed to squeeze behind a hedge before Emma’s head shot out of the window, his murderous gaze burning into the ground.
“Baelfire Gold you better have one hell of an explanation for this or I’m going to shake one from you!”
Sweaty bullets ran down the young Gold’s back, his body numb even as Emma began dragging him away.
“We got to go!”
“I…I think I’m having a heart attack…”
“Move it!”
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Gold searched the misty streets of Storybrooke as calmly as his racing mind would allow.
Bae had snuck out for some odd reason, and if he didn’t have the explanation of his lifetime he’d be grounded until he graduated high school!
To add to the mystery, he could have sworn he’d heard Emma in his office as well.
The pawnbroker sighed and wondered if he had to give Bae the old birds and the bees talk again. His son was a few months shy of 15, and had been more than responsible when it came to such matters since the last time they had that talk last year, especially when it came to Emma Nolan.
He trusted his son to mind himself around the Sherriff’s daughter, and had shown any romantic interest in her. Why Gold didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he was worried that those interests may be changing if they were locking themselves in rooms now.
Just as he was about to turn around, the all too familiar sound of police sirens wailed behind him, the mulit-colored lights instantly causing his head to throb.
“I don’t have time for this!” he cursed, jumping out of the car as they both pulled to a stop.
Sherriff David Nolan stepped out, looking unamused.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you never to leave a car when a cop pulls you over?”
Gold glared at his sometimes acquaintance. He and David got along like sheep and sheep dogs: they did much better a part, and there wasn’t a promise that teeth wouldn’t be used during their encounters.
“When an actual cop pulls me over, I’ll remember that,” Gold snarled.
David frowned. “Okay, enough niceties, I saw your son and my daughter jump out of my bathroom window. I want to know why and where they are now. I have angry in-laws and an even angrier wife, and I am not going back to them without my daughter.”
Gold’s eyes widened. It was worse than he thought. Something was going on with them, and he needed to get to them before they got into any more trouble.
And there was really only one person he could think of that his son would run to.
“I’m not sure, but I will find them,” Gold said, returning to his car.
“Hold it,” David said, placing a hand on the hood of Gold’s car. “You know something, so either I come with you or we can settle this at the station.
Gold gave him a bland look. They both knew David wouldn’t dare, but like Gold, he was a terrified parent and would make any threats necessary to ensure the safety of his daughter.
He motioned to the passenger door, hoping Belle wouldn’t mind an extra guest for the holiday.
“Get in.”
                                            0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Belle managed to hold her tongue as the blonde bombshell gawked at her cooking. It was cute in a way, honestly, her general interest, but Belle couldn’t decide if it was out of delight or judgment.
She glanced into the living room where Will and the rest of the men were rearranging furniture to accommodate for all the extra people. He looked at her as well, begging her to accept Ana.
Belle sighed. “Would you…like to help?”
Ana’s well-manicured hands shot up. “Oh no, darling. I’ve never worked in a kitchen before.”
Belle held back a snort and helped Ana position the bowl of sweet potatoes she had been mashing and showed her how to hold the masher.
“Just keep crushing them until their smooth, no lumps. Then we’re going to put them in a dish and cover it with brown sugar and marshmallows for a casserole.”
Ana’s eyes widened as she awkwardly mashed the potatoes.
“Is this…a meal…all people eat?”
Belle bristled a bit. “It’s pretty popular for this holiday, though I don’t mind eating it whenever sweet potatoes are on sale.”
Ana paused. “You eat discounted food?”
Belle gripped the counter. “Yes, some of us can’t afford lobster and steak every night.”
“What was that?”
“I said I need to check on the turkey,” Belle replied, and it was both the true and a distraction.
Belle opened the boiling oven and poked at her crisping bird. It was the first she had made that wasn’t from a bag, and she wanted it to be perfect…as perfect at her pizza making skills would allow that is.
As she was reapplying the tin foil, Ana came to look over her shoulder.
“Oh, it’s so hot!” she laughed, the sound light and chirpy.
“Maybe don’t get so closed to it,” Belle muttered, slamming the oven shut.
Ana jumped back, tensing when Belle brushed past her.
Belle returned to cutting vegetables for the dressing, Ana coming beside her to continue smashing the smooth potatoes paste.
Belle glanced to the living room at Will’s pleading glance and continued to force conversation for his sake.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Belle inquired.
“Oh,” Ana answered cheerfully. “A little of this, a little of that. Usually I’m in a plane being catered off to some event or another.”
Belle hummed, unsurprised. “Sounds nice.”
“Will tells me you own your own business,” Ana offered.
“You’re standing above it,” Belle returned, chuckling a bit. She was rather surprised to hear Ana return the sediment.
At least she had a sense of humor. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.
“Of course, business would be charitable at best.”
Belle’s knife stilled, the small hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.
“I…beg your pardon?”
Ana giggled, not yet knowing the beast she was about to unleash.
“Oh, it’s a sweet little hobby, darling, but you can’t possibly find it profitable,” Ana said, sweet as overly sugared coffee.
Belle gripped the knife she was holding, struggling to hold back all the nasty instincts she had to smash the blonde in front of her.
Yet…Ana was right.
French Bread had been operating in the red for years, but they’d always been pretty well off. Moe managed to keep everyone employed however, and were overall comfortable.
Belle had never looked at her business as a hobby. She saw it as a lifeline, one that she liked at that.
She made something that people liked. She offered her business for fundraisers for the local schools, and took pizzas to families after a loss or birth.
She was a member of this community, and damn it she was a business owner, no matter what she made.
Before she could defend her very livelihood—or even throw Ana’s arse out—Baelfire and a panting Emma Nolan came bustling in, slamming the door and locking it as if they were being chased.
“Bae?” Belle gasped. “What on earth—”
“You got to help us!” Emma gasped, grabbing Bae’s hand.
“No,” he protested, squirming in her grip.
Emma dragged him to her level, glaring fiercely.
“My dad’s probably on his way here with a hatchet, and I do want to jump out of another window!”
“Wait, what?” Belle demanded.
Emma snatched Bae’s hand up, showing Belle his swollen finger.
Belle gasped. “Bae, why are you wearing this?”
Bae gulped, glancing at Emma. “I…well…you see…”
Belle shook her head and led him to the couch.
“Merlin, can you grab my first aid kit? It’s under the bathroom sink.”
Merlin nodded and set off.
“Will, I need some ice, we need to get the swelling down.”
“I’ll get it!” Ana volunteered, practically skipping to the kitchen. “Oh, ice trays, how cute!”
Belle’s eye twitched. “Will…”
Will quickly got the ice from Ana, handing it to Bae without meeting Belle’s eyes.
“Crazy day, eye lad?”
“Yeah…” Bae said, wincing as Belle examined his hand.
“What happened, and where’s your dad?” Belle inquired.
“Probably right on our asses,” Emma muttered. Jefferson chuckled.
Merlin handed Belle the kit and winced at the purple digit.
“Maybe we should get Whale down here?
“NO!” Bae and Emma shouted.
“He’ll cut it,” Bae said. “Then it’ll be ruined.”
“I think your dad would be more concerned about Whale cutting off your finger than a ring from his inventory.” Belle said.
Bae looked down guiltily at the ring unknowingly meant for his possible future step-mother.
A family heirloom and a proposal would be lost today on his account. It was almost too much to bare, especially after he nearly died trying to save them both.
It’d hurt to tell Belle, but he was going to be grounded until after new year’s anyway. Might as well attempt to save one.
“Wait, Belle,” Bae begged as she was dialing the number. “I need to tell you—”
A loud pound on the front door cut him off.
“Baelfire Gold,” came David Nolan’s booming voice.
“Shit!” Emma and Bae hissed, instantly searching for a window.
“What on earth…” Belle began as Merlin began to open the door, only to have David push it open with his weight.
His heated stare instantly fell on Bae, and then on his sweating daughter.
“What is going on with you two?” he demanded.
“Dad, I can explain!” Emma swore as Bae shot up to stand behind her.
He looked back and forth between the two teens, and then finally the ring on Bae’s finger.
“Oh hell no!” he exclaims, jumping to the most severe conclusion.
Bae and Emma followed his glare, paled, and then looked at each other.
“Whoa, no, no!” she burst.
“You two are too young to get married have you lost your mind!” he yelled.
Belle stepped in front of the teens, trying to bring peace back into her living room.
“David, don’t be ridiculous,” Belle instantly defended, ducking beside Bae. “Right?”
“No!” Bae burst, pulling away from Belle. “This whole thing is because—”
The door flew open once more and Mr. Gold burst in, panting like he just ran a marathon.
“I told you to wait for me, Nolan!” he barked. “There’s three flights of steps to get through!”
“It’s a good thing I’m here, they were about to run off together!” the deputy fought.
Gold looked at his son, eyes instantly drawn to his swollen finger and the ring suffocating it.
He paled a bit, and looked at a frazzled Belle, and then the other guests in her home who looked just as confused as she (except the blonde who looked amused —who was she?)
“Belle,” he began, gripping his cane tightly. “I can explain.”
“You explain in the station,” David said, heading to Bae. “We’re going to have a talk young man—”
Gold stepped in front of him, snarling like a wolf protecting its cub.
“Like hell you are!”
“Oh this is exciting!” Ana cheered.
“For god’s sake.” Belle groaned.
“Okay, everyone calm down,” Merlin tried to sooth as Gold and David went at each other.
“Your son is a menace!”
“Your daughter was the one who was dragging him out of windows!”
“Oh my god I want to die!”
The piercing sound of the ancient fire alarm screaming through the air.
Jefferson fist-pumped the air.  “Yelling feels really good right now!”
Belle looked around at her chaos-filled living room, her heart clenching.
All she wanted was a nice dinner with her friends and family – the first real nice dinner she’d had in years at that!
Jaw clenched, blood boiling, she turned to step into the kitchen, Will and Merlin watching her carefully.
Grabbing her broom, she aimed the handle at the screaming fire detector and promptly stabbed it, the thing slowly dying with a low whine.
The room became quiet, all eyes turning to the fuming woman. Even Ana had stilled, this part of the simple life mostly unappealing.
Belle turned to turn off the stove and donned oven mitts, glaring at Merlin when he offered to assist.
She removed the scorched bird, taking a moment to mourn what could have been, before turning to her terrified onlookers.
“You,” she growled, pointing at Gold. “You said you could explain, so tell me, what the everlasting hell is happening here tonight?”
Gold gaped at her, his heart pounding. He couldn’t tell if he was utterly terrified of her or madly in love.
Well, the later was a no-brainer. That was the whole reason he had delicately cleaned his great-aunt’s ring. He wanted her in his life as long as she would have him.
He looked at his son. The boy was no doubt facing a very long probation for putting him through all this, but he very honestly looked remorseful.
Gold looked at Belle, beautiful, bright, brilliant Belle. The woman he loved. The woman who’d brought so much life into his gray world.
Belle continued to stare at him expectantly, and Gold knew he needed to act now if he didn’t want to get sent through a window.
He turned to his son, frowning, and held out his hand.
Confused, Bae reached out his ringed-hand, and gasped when his father represented his whole hand to Belle.
Gold carefully got down on his good knee, the spectators in the room alighting when the realized what was occurring.
Belle’s face as well melted, her cheeks pinking.
“Belle,” he began. “I love you so much. These last few months have been some of the best of my life and I want to have so many more, years in fact.”
Belle’s knees began to shake. She hadn’t planned for this. She wasn’t ready. They should be somewhere nicer than her dingy apartment. She should be in a nicer dress. They should…they should…
“So as soon as a I pry this ring off my son’s finger…”
Bae winced.
“Clean and resize it, I…I would very much like you to be my wife.”
Belle could only stare, all words lost. Is this what true, unabridged happiness felt like?
“Well?” Jefferson urged, causing Will and Merlin to shush him harshly.
David had already brought out his phone and was recording dutifully.
“For mom?” Emma chuckled.
“Oh yeah, she loves this stuff.”
Belle released a wet laugh, tears building behind her eyes.
“I…I…”
The door swung open before she could answer, her headset father clambering in and shivering.
“Sorry I’m late Be…” he looked around and the myriad of strangers in his living room.
His eyes particularly zeroed in on Gold—the man who almost ruined his business not too long ago—who had hastily released his son’s hand and was slowly rising from his knee.
“What on earth?”
“I…think the market might have one more turkey we can grab,” Merlin suggested, clutching Jefferson and Will’s shoulders. “Let’s go see.”
The two men dared not protest. Will quickly took Ana’s hand and led her from the apartment before Belle went off on them all.
“It was lovely to meet you darlings!” she said, not seeing Belle exaggerated eye roll.
David stopped his phone and poked Emma’s shoulder, motioning that they really needed to leave.
“Bye Bae,” she whispered, signaling for him to text her later as Moe and David nodded awkwardly to each other.
“Well that’s different, the former Australian citizen said.
“I swear dad, there’s a reason for all of this,” Belle gasped, feeling a bit calmer once Gold was straight by her side.
There was a sound outside, and Moe peeked out the door, saying something so soft that Belle nor Gold could pick it.
“We can talk about this later,” Moe said, chirpier than he was a moment ago. “I really need you to meet someone.”
Belle blinked, wondering if this someone was the reason her father had been so absent from his business—and her life—for the last several months.
She glanced at Gold, who was frowning sulkily. A beautiful, abet odd, proposal had been smite, he was hurting.
Belle took hold of his hand, smiling when he met his eyes.
It’s okay, she said, we can try again.
He smiled back, thankful.
Moe stepped aside to allow, to Belle’s slight surprise, a woman enter.
Like Ana, she was elegantly dressed, though didn’t stand out quite like she had.
There was almost a familiarity to her, the way her shoulders straightened and her hands clasped over her hips, like someone in charge.
However, her attention was brought back to her current boyfriend. His hand had fallen from hers, leaving her cold, and confused.
“Belle, I’d like you to meet—”
“Why Mr. Gold,” the woman greeted, carefully.
She stepped forward, and Belle suddenly felt like she was being advanced by a wolf.
“How lovely it is to see you.”
Belle shot to her boyfriend. He was pale, trembling just enough that she could feel the vibrations in the old wood of her apartment floor.
Gold couldn’t find the words he needed. Couldn’t even scream if he so chose to.
The very world around him—years of healing, of running—gone.
All because one woman had returned into his life.
“Cora.”
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