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circeyoru · 4 hours
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{Collection of Overlords} Collector's / Your Design
The long-awaited design for Reader/you! I know there were fanart of Collector!OCs before and I never said those are wrong designs and whatnot. At the end of the day, your design is how you want it to be. I'm posting a design because it establishes that your place in the story. Or confirms it.
If you had yet to read Part 7, go to MASTERLIST and read that first. This is a major spoil for that part.
Name: #%$^% (it’s just the name you pick)
Alias: Silver
Title: The Collector | True Ruler
Status: The True Ruler of Hell | Supreme Being of the Hell Realm
Species: The Cursed Entity | Symbol of Demonic | Everything & Nothing 
Appearance: Height is your decision. Have long hair (as long as it’s below your shoulders) and whatever colour eyes, your eyes turn into the cosmos only when you will it and it’s a sight that only Trick sees. Wears tight and formal clothing. Your eyes maintained closed most of the time, only opening when you want to appear more threatening or intimidate someone
Personality: 
“Whatever you believe is what I made you believe. Nothing is real and everything is a lie. There is no freedom, there is no fate. All is in the palm of the Rulers’ hands.”
You are described to be a mysterious and cruel individual that holds the entirely of Hell in the palm of your hands. You are secretive for you prefer to rule from the shadows and let Lucifer and his family take over as the royalty of Hell, even keeping your information away from Sinners. Unlike your titles, you are merciful and just to those that do you no wrong, you provide for those you deem worthy and offer assistance to your fellow Sins when needed. You are dutiful and knowledgeable with your eyes and ears all around Hell to keep watch over everything yet never controlling and invasive with the information gathered. 
You do display a childish side of you. Some would call it as a two-face or mood change. As you can swift moods in the blink of an eye. You tend to not drown in one particular emotion (positive or negative) as you believe that it would hinder your judgement, a trait that’s more humanistic. So you are more or less neutral to all things around you. It’s not that you don’t know what emotions are, it’s that you suppress them to the point that it is treated like a switch or mode for you to change from one to another. In that regard, you are more interested to hearing souls tell you their tales than watching and knowing from afar.
However, to some, you are very dangerous and cruel. You are indifferent to the suffering of others so long as you have no connection to them and would even stay and watch the scene. You allowed Hell to spiral into the disorder and chaotic realm it is now without doing much but watch it happen. You enjoy the chaos it brings and you do only care for entertainment it gives you, the screams and cries of souls all around are music to your ears.
To your Overlords, you are someone that see value and potential in others. Offering to take them under your wing and care if they were willing to give you their soul. You show obvious favouritism but you don’t disregard the others. Everyone is treated by their merit and worth equally with out discrimination. Those that deserve a reward will be rewarded and those that step out of line will be punished. You do still keep on eye out for former Overlords that is deserving of a second chance, like what you have offered to Husk. You believe that with time souls will change. After all, you watched Noir change to Trick, so what’s a soul to do?
Abilities / Powers:
Immortality: It is physically, mentally, and spiritually impossible to kill you. Unless the user is the owner of holy based powers. Even after killing you, all you need to do is wait for time to pass and your body will be reformed (it is done somewhere none can encounter you)
Cursed Powers: A higher form of dark powers
Omnipotent: As a True Ruler and Supreme Being of a realm, you are all-powerful but has weaker holy and light-based powers and abilities. For example, you can heal Alastor’s large gash, but resurrecting someone is impossible for you (will need Trick to do it)
Omniscient: As a True Ruler and Supreme Being of a realm, you are all-knowing of what happens all around. The reason why your eyes can closed is because you are intaking a lot of information with the eyes planted around Hell
Omnipresent: As a True Ruler and Supreme Being of a realm, you are present everywhere (but Heaven) at all times. You don’t use it on Earth even after Noir relinquished their hold over it. You merged this with [Omniscient] to the 7 tables that displays all of the Hell Realm to you
Realm Travelling: You can travel between the Hell Realm and Earth Realm, but can never enter Heaven
Soul Marking: You can mark a still living human soul and judge whether they go to Hell
Soul Collection: You can claim and collect a number of souls even without a soul contract inplace, as long as they aren’t a marked soul of Heaven
Healing: You can heal certain wounds, it’s harder for you to heal ones inflicted by holy powers or angelic steel though
Remote Viewing: You can watch from a distance on a holographic display of anything you wish without alerting the observed targets of your presence
Creation: You can manifest anything that comes to mind. You have created wooden life-sized figures, knight armours, and your current Cages
Materialization and dematerlization: You can summon and remove objects at will
Power Enhancement: You can enhance and strengthen a target’s powers and abilities by physical touch. As seen when you placed a hand on Alastor and he felt a surge of power that allowed him to contact specific individuals that have a certain item
Realm Devour: As long as a target is in your realm, Hell, you can devour them wherever they may be and bring them to your own chambers
Aura Pressure: You can expand your aura and make it heavy to create pressure on certain targets within the vicinity 
Realm Manipulation: As long as it’s Hell, you can easily configure the lands to your image and make building appear with just thought. This also includes permission of allowing entry and exit of the realm when a soul arrives to Hell and leaves for Heaven as seen when you were the one to let Sir Pentious leave Hell to arrive in Heaven
Pocket Dimension Storage: It’s implied that you keep the bodies of demons that had their soul taken away while in perfect condition without sign of decay
Restoration & Strengthening: You can restore anything that you touch and even make it better. Shown when you fixed Alastor’s cane and had it stronger than before
Superstrength: Self-explanatory 
Puppet Strings: You can cast invisible strings onto multiple targets and control their bodily actions. As seen when you immoblized the Vees
Summoning: You were able to release your Cages from out of nowhere and without a specific word spoken or action done
Mutilation & Disfiguration: You can twist and shift the body of a target to your will with hand gestures or mere thought. Shown when you balled up the bodies of the Vees during the meeting
Teleportation: You can appear and disappear at will, arriving to different locations within the second without prior requirements
Shapeshifting: You can change your form and suppress your aura so that no one recognizes you. As seen when you first made your appearance in the hotel and after being pointed out you returned to your true form. In addition, you are able to take forms of others, like Carmilla when you fought with Vaggie
Black Cloud Platform: You can summon a black cloud under you as a method of transportation and flight, it goes where you wish it to bring you
(naturally the list is not complete, these powers and abilities are up to Part 7. Remember, you are omnipotent here)
Note: Welp, no surprise that you're op. But this just confirms it. How you like this?
Circe Y.
Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)
@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203@hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe
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shinobicyrus · 25 days
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Obviously, the Alabama Supreme Court actually putting fetal personhood into law is another victory for creeping Christian Authoritarianism and yet another attack on health care, womens' rights, and bodily autonomy....but watching the Republicans flip their shit now that IVF clinics are in danger of closing is hilarious in a "the clown car is on fire" kind of way.
Because of course this was going to happen. Fetal personhood and anti-surrogacy (especially in the context of same-sex parents) has been bouncing around in conservative religious and legal circles (but what's the difference?) for decades, with those pesky liberals warning about it for just as long. Anyone with an inkling of awareness of the issue could have seen it coming.
So the fact that they were caught so off guard is myopic enough. And they're panicking for a very good reason, because yanno who generally goes to IVF clinics?
The people who can afford it.
Certainly the abortion bans in various states were bad, but if you had a lot of disposable income you could just...go to another state. Extremely inconvenient, yes, but not insurmountable. But this?
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Oh my god, now the far-right pro-life politics that you've been cultivating for going on fifty years is now in a position to affect people with money? People that matter? Now you have to try and contend with the very extremist judges you installed that don't have to worry about getting elected and whose decisions are now putting you on the political chopping block?
Join us the in misery you're created for everyone else, assholes.
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selenealwayscries · 2 years
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yeah
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tokruta · 6 months
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I feel so cheated sometimes bc I fucking hate the taste and smell of meat (I categorize seafood as meat too) and beans
I'm Mexican-American
My Mexican mother is considered the best in the family for Mexican cuisine, everyone loves her food and I can't eat most of it
I can't eat it or smell it without wanting to gag (I don't, but I need to leave after a while to get a break)
Mexican food is considered one of the best food cultures in the world, my mother was born and raised in Jalisco and brought all the recipes she learned from her mother with her
I grew up on fast food and faster/easier recipes because she needed to put more time and effort into cooking for the rest of the family
I also grew up in Los Angeles, one of the best places in the US for authentic Mexican food. We'd go to Mexican restaurants when she didn't feel like cooking (and on one memorable occasion, a house/restaurant that was recommended to my parents at church lol), and if not Mexican restaurants, then some fast food place or seafood buffets. I stopped going out to eat with family often in my teens bc it wasn't worth taking me. I also remember being judged and just hated the experience and would make up excuses to not go
I don't know, I was on my tiktok fyp and I kept getting a lot of stuff about Mexican food and I just hate being reminded of my fucking defects so much. I didn't choose to utterly despise meat and beans and I feel so left out of my own culture. If I could eat it, I would, but I can't.
My siblings grew up on all of these amazing foods, and I grew up right alongside them, eating something else.
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straawberries · 2 months
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gonna make another post since that usually helps with reach
teehee poll for reach. please read the rest of this if you can
HI IM DELILAH AND IVE GOT LESS THAN 4 MONTHS BEFORE IM HOMELESS WITH NO OPTIONS FOR PLACES TO LIVE
heeyyy its me delilah. im an autistic plural trans girl with ptsd, and im living in an abusive household with my adoptive "father" that absolutely hates me. in less than 4 months, i am going to be kicked out, and i am trying to raise the money i need to survive this event.
ive been trying, pretty much every chance i get, to get a job, but i think because of this shitty small town in texas, everyone already knows who i am and nobody wants to hire me. this means i have to rely on stuff like this.
by JUNE 1ST 2024, i need to make enough money to move out, or else... well, i dont really know what will happen to me (other than vague "homelessness"), but im really scared that it wont end well.
on top of that im rarely being fed enough which is seriously fucking with my mood and making me feel like shit, so im having to balance saving and eating which.. with the money im currently getting, is not very sustainable. other than a few people giving a lot (who i am eternally thankful for and if youre able to do this i would basically do anything for you) im basically getting zero donations.
i get that this kind of stuff is annoying and maybe a bit slow, but just taking a few seconds, maybe a minute or two at most, to give me a small amount of money, would be a hell of a lot more helpful than doing nothing.
C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga
P*YP*L - @delilahkill
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plenty of people use stuff like this to scam, so heres some info about me if you doubt that this is true. (copy pasted from previous post)
i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)
i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)
im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.
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inky-duchess · 3 months
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Fantasy Guide to Royal Guards
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Royals have multiple layers of servants but there is no set of servants most important that their protection. Royalty are never without some kind of protection and palaces are usually guarded to the teeth. So how do we write royal security. This is for @jamie-ties-writing
Recruitment
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Royal guards aren't just any person plucked from the street and put into a uniform. They are usually recruited from within the royal army, from within particular regiments across the army (a mixture of calvary, naval, artillery, infantry). The Royal Guard is usually made of of multiple regiments, not just a single one. These regiments would share and rotate duties. The British Royal family are currently guarded by the Coldstream Regiment, Welsh Guards, Grenadier Guards among others. Royal guards will be selected for their skill, sometimes their birth (they may be chosen if they rank higher socially) and of course, loyalty to the Crown. Royal guards were intended to be a show of force, strength, Majesty so they were usually impressive specimens meant to instill some power to their monarch.
Duties
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A royal guard's first order of business is the protection of the family. They may have sentry duty around the palace, guarding doors or patrolling palace grounds or corridors. A Royal Guard may be assigned to one member only but most likely they will rotate through the family as needed. Of course, a royal can request a guard to always be assigned to them if they want. They may escort their charge of the day to their engagements. If assigned a certain royal to protect, they would tail them throughout the day. A royal guard may even perform ceremonial duties such as the changing of the guard or riding in coronations or state funerals. A royal guard is expected to remain vigilant but never speak of what they see, they are meant to keep an ear out for threats but never repeat whatever is said, they are expected at all times to uphold a professional countenance and respect protocol. They will be expected to give their lives if needed, and be loyal to the last.
Rank
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Royal guards are a military division and rank is a part of their lives. Their supreme commander would he the monarch first but there would be an appointed commander. Depending on how you want to write Royal Guards, each regiment would have it's own captain and leaders. Of course, not all regiments may adhere to the same ranks but this would be a basic outline for you to follow.
Colonel: Colonels actually have no duties, they are more an honourary figurehead. Many members of the royal family would have a regiment to be colonel of. This usually requires nothing more than a ceremonial role, the wearing of the uniform while inspecting the troops for example.
Captain: The Commander of the regiment. They would undertake managerial duties, issuing commands from the monarch, assigning duties, approving the induction of new guards into the Household Division. The Captain would decide who would guard which member of the royal family.
Lieutenant: The Second in command. They will assume command if the Captain is not available. They would take on a large portion of duties and aid the Captain.
Sergeant: The sergeant would be next in command.
Guardsman: The lowest rank. They will have the least experience but usually the most duties. They would be the ones patrolling and standing sentry.
Uniform
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Of course, no royal guard is complete without their uniform. Royal guards would have to stand out, especially in ceremonial duties. This uniform would be distinctive, not only because it is a great honour for anybody to be named to the guard but also as mentioned above, to add a layer of might to those they protect.
Notable Royal Guard Units
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Dahomey Mino (the inspiration of Black Panther's Dora Milaje)
The Praetorian Guard
The Imperial Guard of Napoleon
The Imperial German Bodyguard
Varangian Guard
Swiss Guards
The Kheshig
The Janissary
The Imperial Guards of Tsarist Russia
The Cossack Guard
Guardia Real
Coldstream Guards
Irish Guards
Welsh Guards
Grenadier Guards
Medjay of Ancient Egypt
Al-Ḥars al-Malakī as-Suʿūdī
Compagnie des Carabiniers du Prince
Thahan Raksa Phra Ong
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suguru-getos · 7 months
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࿐ soft yandere neuvillette hcs (f!reader) ࿐
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neuvillette being a hydro dragon was always territorial of the things he held dear, whether it was his unyielding love for the melusines, or the love for the people of fontaine or the love for justice and the idea of it for the people. this has never been translated into an intense devotion for a human until he saw you. lawyering up oh so sweetly against one of your friends to defend the defamation case lodged against their business.
it was then — that your eyes lingered with the chief justice. for someone who holds a power so supreme — he sure had kind eyes. standing above all, having the ability to shut the whole opera house in a second with the stern daunt of his voice. he was enamoring too… but you didn’t know how enamored he was of you. for the first time neuvillette was getting distracted during a hearing. how your eyes fiercely spoke along with the entanglement of your words. how exquisite.
you won the case & the happiness which made your smile all the more beautiful with the glimmer of victory dancing all over it. you also got a chance to thank the chief justice, too. to which of course — he’d be kind enough and deny. “please don’t thank me. i am just doing my work here.” still, when neuvillette shook hands with you to depart, his eyes widened with the registering of a weird, twisted feeling inside of him. he wanted to protect you for life, mate with you, wanted to be by your side…
it was one of the weird times when it had been the sunniest after the trials. the people of fontaine were weirded out to find out no rains for the rest of the week. despite of the trials. truth been told, neuvillette didn’t have the time to be upset for anything because now he has someone he was invested in.
why waste time? neuvillette thought to himself, he had never approached anyone yet. so? when he approached your door and knocked with a tender smile, with a bouquet on his hands and a sweet smile just to ask if you’d be so kind for a date, you heartily agreed. heart fluttering throughout the date when he pulled your chair, ordered the same food as yours just so he can taste your likes. asking if you’d be so kind as to give him another date opportunity— kissing your forehead while dropping you home. things were beyond golden.
things started getting a little controlling after a first month or so. as someone who had a few friends who liked to travel, you’d find the chief justice of fontaine not so eager to allow you to move out of fontaine. “inazuma? do you understand how far it is from here?” he had a point, of course… “but one of my friend’s family is there and the vision hunt decree is abolished now and i—” neuvillette doesn’t yell at you, he’s too soft for that. “i believe i didn’t ask for any reply to that dearest. you will be here in fontaine. if you want, i can arrange that your friend’s family come here. they’d be given the most royal treatment-”
neuvillette also quickly shuts down any opportunity for you to be talking to someone unknown. it’s simple? he has met your friends in gatherings and they are intimidated and respectful of your man. the others would take too much of his time in dissection of their personalities. how does he stop you? simple — neuvillette gets needy. he would clutch you in his arms and pout. not wanting to let you go at any cost. “i missed you sweetheart.” you can’t help but give in.
he doesn’t do punishments. it is too heartbreaking for him to see you stressed and distressed of him of all people !! however there was an instance where you forgot to inform him & came back home at 2 am with a bunch of people partying. neuvillette didn’t take that lightly. you know this because that was the first time you were pinned against the wall. kind and tender eyes glowering down and enraged. you couldn’t help but sniffle for hours when neuvillette brought you over his knee for a spanking. he hated it when you cried, it was stormy in fontaine for the rest of the week <\3 why don’t you understand he just loves you so much it makes him lovesick!
to make it up for losing his temper — he would spoil you with so much love. it would get hard to breathe under the undying affection he gives you. kissing your forehead, bringing you your favorite food, letting you feel the freedom you felt taken away, anything and everything. would probably surrender and get on his knees, sobbing if you give him the silent treatment.
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rveyjules · 7 months
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A Second Chance
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Pairing: RE6!Leon Kennedy x Prime Minister's Daughter! Reader (ft. Ada Wong)
Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst
Warning: cheating, Leon is obsessed with the reader, stalking, taking photos, the reader is cold but deep inside she’s a sweetheart, mentions of arranged marriage, pure smut (mentions of masturbation, foreplay, kissing, breasts fondling and sucking, markings,  p in v intercourse, virgin sex, penetrative sex, Leon is huge [I think it's at least 9 inches, sheesh], creampie, aftercare)
Word count: 5.2k
Summary: As the eldest daughter of the Prime Minister and one of the faces of the family, you received multiple assassination attempts. So, your father hired someone to keep an eye on you. And to your surprise, out of all people, it was Leon Kennedy your father picked for you. You and Leon had a secret relationship but soon did not last because another woman came into his life. Now that the both of you meet again, will it be the start of chaos or a continuation of romance?
author's note: This story is entirely fictional. I do not know what the President and the Prime Minister exactly do for the country. Same with the occupation of being a prosecutor and the chief of the CIA. English is not my mother tongue so pardon if you encounter mistakes and grammatical errors. This is only for entertainment purposes only. And minors, please do your homework first.
        It all started when you had an assassination attempt for the fifth time. Being the only daughter of the Prime Minister isn’t easy. The more your father becomes powerful, the more assassination attempts you receive because if the opponent can't attack the Prime Minister, their target will be his family and pick the most treasured and precious gem of his life, his daughter. 
"The President will help to capture those bastards who tried to kill you." Your father spoke, looking at you, who was fixing the files from the CIA. 
"Papa, this is the fifth time you told me that. All the men you hired to guard me ended up being fired." 
"Because they failed to protect you," The Prime Minister replied in a strict fatherly tone. "This time, it was the President who recommended this agent to keep an eye on you." 
"I hope he wouldn't think that I am being a spoiled brat and a baby when he found out that I am a prosecutor." You chuckled, shaking your head a little. 
"Yes, you are a prosecutor. Not just a simple prosecutor. You are one of the most powerful prosecutors in the Supreme Court. You have access to every government agency as the Chief of the CIA. So, it’s quite understandable that those people who tried to eliminate you were not just because of me but because you are one of the most influential people in politics.”
      You sighed and gave him a small smile. Your father has been stressed out with international political stuff plus your assassination attempt. And speaking of the President, both of them are best friends and they climbed the political ladder together. The President is personally closer to the Prime Minister than the Vice President. That’s why when you survived your fifth assassination attempt, it was the President who was one of the first people that paid a visit to check on you.
“Alright, I’ll accept whoever the President has to recommend to guard me. But Papa, I don’t want to be guarded all the time. You know what I mean. I need some private time.” Your father nodded in agreement. 
“I understand. I’ll call the President.” With that, he walked out of your office and was escorted by his bodyguards as he walked down the hallway of my office. 
“I heard our dads having a conversation about your assassination attempt. Are you sure you’re okay?” Your friend, Ashley asked in a concerned tone on the other line of the call. 
“Yeah, I am fine. The assassin must have poor eyesight.” You laughed but Ashley only sighed. 
“You’re still joking around as if you weren’t stunned when you barely dodge the bullet. By the way, my dad recommended the man who saved me from Spain. You haven’t heard about him, have you? Because you have three cases to finish.” Ashley chuckled.
“The two are successful, only the rape case left. But believe me, I was so worried about you. And don’t tell me his name. I love surprises.” You grinned. 
“Oh, no. Here we go again with that behavior of yours. I think you know this person. Because when I mentioned you once in our conversation, he was surprised to hear that you are the Chief of the CIA and a prosecutor.”  
“Do we know each other?” I asked, confused. Ashley hummed and chuckled. 
“You’ll meet him tomorrow, according to the conversation between the Prime Minister and the President.”
         With that, you started critically thinking about the person. According to your father, he’s a federal agent and was exclusively picked to save Ashley from an insane cult in Spain. But why did this person seem to know you?
“This is Leon Scott Kennedy. Your bodyguard starting today.” Your father, the Prime Minister introduced the federal agent who saved your friend from Spain and the one the President recommended. 
            And for the very first time, you hated surprises. This is the worst surprise you’ve ever had. Leon looks different from before. How long has it been since the Raccoon City outbreak? Fifteen years? Leon looked at you, scanning you from head to toe. You are wearing a black tight turtleneck knee-length dress, black high heels, and simple makeup but the matte red lipstick made you look bold. Your chest and curves perfectly fit the dress you are wearing. His gaze went back to you and swiftly rolled your eyes. 
“Bodyguard?” You repeated, hiding your irritation because out of all people to become your bodyguard, why this fucking bastard? Why your ex? 
            Your father nodded his head. 
“If he saved the President’s daughter alone from a deadly cult in Spain, then he can save you from assassination attempts.” 
“Papa, that guy can’t predict if there’s someone who will try to eliminate me.” You retorted and your father gave you a disapproving look. 
“We agreed on this already, Y/n. And this is an exclusive decree from the President. You are one of the secret weapons of the country so for him, it is also his responsibility to take care of you.” Your father reminded you. 
“I know my job, Papa! You don’t have to remind me of that! Right now, I can’t help but feel embarrassed of myself that the Chief of the CIA needed to be guarded as if I can’t protect myself.” 
“Y/n L/n!” Your father yelled, shutting you up. “For Christ’s sake, Y/n! Just for once! I am trying to protect you but you wouldn’t listen! And for the first time, you despised the man we selected to keep an eye on you. I mean, what’s wrong if this guy keeps an eye on you?” 
             His question made you pause. Your father must never know the reason why the hell you hated Leon so much. Even thinking about it makes your heart break. So, you looked down and replied against your will to not make this worse. 
“Alright. End of discussion.” 
              Your father scoffed at your sudden change of mood and aura. He had never seen you glare and roll your eyes at the agents he picked to protect you. You are warm to the four guards who used to protect you. It was he who fired them when an assassination attempt occurred and those men failed to protect you. But now, he sees nothing but the fire of rage in your eyes when he introduces Leon to you as your bodyguard. 
“Y/n, what the hell is wrong with you?” He asked. 
“I accepted him already, Papa! Don’t ask me such questions again. Just fire him the moment someone fired a gun on me while he was nowhere to be found. Just like what you did to my former bodyguards.” You replied, turning your back on him so that he couldn’t see the tears forming in your eyes. 
           And then, the Prime Minister’s phone rang. He accepted the call and there was silence in the room so that he could have a proper conversation with the caller. After a few seconds, he hung up and looked at you. 
“I need to go. They need me to discuss something in the White House.” He announced and you gave him a nod without sparing him a glance. 
            When your father left, you turned around and faced Leon who was looking at you the whole time, realizing that you are not the young girl he left for another woman back then. It’s true, he thought. You are no longer naive, eyes full of anger with the mess he made fifteen years ago. 
“You changed, Y/n. After fifteen years…” Leon started which made you smirk. 
“Unlike that woman who’s still manipulative. Bet you didn’t last.” You straight-forwardly rebutted and headed over to your desk. You sit on your executive leather chair and cross your legs as you rest your back against the backrest. 
“Tell me, what’s your motive?” You asked sharply. 
“It was the President who recommended me to the Prime Minister.” He replied but you shook your head in disapproval. 
“You can decline but you didn’t. There must be a reason why you accepted the offer. The government needs you to save the country from bioweapons but here you are, standing in front of me as my bodyguard.” 
“Well, I am protecting the country’s secret weapon so I think it’s considered. Besides, the President and I agreed that I will still work as a federal agent of DSO while guarding the Prime Minister’s daughter.” 
                 Well, he has a point. You hummed in satisfaction with his answer and opened a file and checked the documents regarding the case you are currently in. There was a silence between you and Leon couldn’t help but feel your anger behind your calm expressions. No matter how much you tried to not make this personal, the pain he gave you makes it difficult for you to calm your nerves. 
               But Leon decided to give it a try…
“Ada and I were not in a relationship… or even on good terms.” He stated, causing you to grin. 
“Not interested. Besides, you are nothing to me.” 
             You can feel that your words affected him but you don’t care. And there’s an awkward silence again until you receive a call from the Chief Prosecutor. At least it saved you from the uncomfortable feeling of being with your ex. You stood up and kept your documents in the proper places and grabbed your handbag. 
          You walked to the door but Leon moved faster to open the door for you. You ignored his presence and walked out of your office to the ground floor. Leon tailed behind you until you came out of the law firm’s building and your driver pulled up the car in front of you. Before Leon can move, you open the door for yourself and get inside the car. 
           Leon paused for a moment and shook his head and was about to get inside the front seat but you rolled your windows down and said…
“I do not allow my bodyguard to come to join me in my car so go join my other guards in the other car.” Leon scoffed and retorted back. “According to the Prime Minister, I shall join you in every vehicle you are going to ride.” 
“Are you working for the Prime Minister or me?” You sarcastically asked. 
           He didn't want to make further arguments so he sighed and just obliged. You rolled your windows up and your driver drove away to your destination. 
             It was now nighttime. You and Ashley decided to hang out in a fancy bar in the city. You are staying in the VIP Room while your bodyguards are staying outside of the room, securing the area.  You two are regular customers of the bar and the owner doesn’t mind if you two brought a bunch of bodyguards for safety purposes. 
           So here you are, sipping a glass of whiskey with your legs crossed and back against the backrest of the leather couch as you stare into nowhere in the room. It has been two weeks since your father hired Leon as your bodyguard. Having him around you during those days felt like being chained up again to your past. 
“Hey, you’ve been staring at nowhere. Are you even listening to me?” Ashley’s voice snapped you back to your senses. You hummed and took the last drop of the whiskey before putting the glass down and pouring yourself another shot. 
“You rarely drink whiskey, Y/n. What’s wrong?” She asked and you didn’t reply to her. Instead, you pulled a cigarette and put them between your lips, and lit them up before huffing out a smoke. 
“Knew it. Something’s wrong. Was this because of your new bodyguard?” She asked and you hummed, huffing out another smoke. 
“Tell me, Ash. Do you think my life right now would be different if I asked you his goddamned name before we met?” You asked. 
“Why do you ask?” She asked too while you breathed out another smoke and sipped on your glass of whiskey. 
“Because I could’ve stopped Dad from hiring him! That bastard has been getting on my nerves for the last two weeks.” You hissed.  
             Like your father, Ashley asked the same question. “What’s wrong if my dad recommended him and your father hired him to be your bodyguard? Y/n, Leon is one of the top agents in the country. He saved many lives and protected the country from bioweapons. And this is the first time you despised your bodyguard. You weren’t this cold to your former bodyguards until Leon came.” 
           There was another pause as you finished your cigarette and put it on the ashtray and drank your whiskey. Ashley continued, “Was I right? Do you two know each other?” She asked and you hummed again as the response. Even responding to her is difficult, especially when you're talking about the man who ruined you. 
“We used to, Ash. We used to.” You replied, chuckling to yourself as you tried to stop your tears from falling. Ashley has been your best friend even before his father became the elected President of the United States of America but you don’t want her to see your vulnerable side. 
“Used to? Like, he’s a part of your past?” She asked and you nodded your head. 
“Worst part of my life, rather.” You sipped again, gulping the strong liquor down to your throat. 
“You know, it would be nice if you would share your backstory with me. Even just the highlights, I’m sure I can understand it.” 
“Ash, he’s my ex-boyfriend.” You frankly said. Ashley gasped upon hearing this from you. 
             She never thought that the man who saved her in Spain was your ex-lover. This is a shocking revelation for her. Ashley recalled the moments she mentioned you during her conversation with him back in 2005. Leon’s reaction was still clear in her memory when she told him that you are a prosecutor and one of the most powerful ones in the Supreme Court. He was completely surprised but then he was grinning moments later. 
“No wonder why he was surprised when I mentioned your name back in 2005. How long has it been since you two broke up?” 
“Since 1998. It was during the Raccoon City outbreak. After we parted ways, I never heard from him again and just focused on my studies.” You lit up another cigarette, putting the stick between your fingers and lips. 
“Why did you two break up?” Ashley asked. 
            You paused for a moment. A lump formed in your throat and a tear slipped out of your eye. Your only way is to gulp down the whiskey in your glass. Ashley doesn’t want to force you to spill out the truth. Her point is to ease the pain in your heart. Seeing you struggling to speak is enough for her to understand that you and Leon did not have a good end. 
“He’s a traitor,” You managed to speak out, taking deep breaths as you struggled to breathe.  
               Ashley had to go because her mother, The First Lady called because of curfew. She doesn't want to leave you in tears but you ushered her to leave, saying that you will be fine and enjoy the time by yourself. Ashley gave you an apologetic look before grabbing her purse, kissing your cheek, and leaving the VIP Room. 
 ��             And there you are, having deep thoughts. You huffed out another smoke and groaned. You are not a menacing teenager who will do everything to get rid of Leon. That’s too immature. Ever since you graduated in Law and become a prosecutor, you promised yourself that you are no longer that young girl who’s sweet and naive. You need to be tough no matter how hard the situation is. No matter how much pressure a case gives you, you will do everything to win the trial. 
              Same as being the Chief of the CIA. Your hacking skills, high potential on battlefields, gunfight skills, and being a deadly agent made you reach your current position. None of the missions you had were easy. Most of them cost the lives of agents that failed to complete the mission. Only you are the last man standing. At the end of the missions, you’d always look around and see the pools of blood scattered around whether it is from your enemy or comrades. Dead bodies lay down on the bloodied ground. And now, the President takes you as the country’s secret weapon against the threat from other countries who will dare to attack. 
             Those events happened within fifteen years. You didn’t get enough rest. Your mind is so occupied with your job that even when Ashley was kidnapped back in 2005, you did not let your emotion take over you and continued pursuing your goals and fulfilling your responsibilities as a prosecutor and the Chief of the CIA. Leon never popped into your mind ever since. Now that he’s here again as your bodyguard, you couldn’t help but recall what pain he gave you in Raccoon City fifteen years ago. 
           Fifteen years ago in Raccoon City, things go wrong as you, Leon, and Ada encounter another group of survivors and now they are chasing you down to kill you. Ada, the most experienced one in fighting got shot in the leg causing her to fall to the ground. You and Leon are shooting them with your guns but he saw Ada get shot. 
“Ada!” He yelled and shot those people who are after her before running to her to check on her. But there’s a guy who appeared out of nowhere and pointed his gun at Leon. 
“Leon, duck!” You yelled and covered Leon with your body. A gunshot echoed around the road and you hissed in pain as the bullet hit you on your arm. 
          You growled and reloaded your gun as fast as you could and shot the guy right in the head. You took care of the rest of the people while Leon is busy treating Ada’s injury with a small medical kit he has. After a few seconds of silence, you lowered your gun and held your injured arm to stop the bleeding. You turned around and found Leon carrying Ada in his arms. 
            In your view, Ada was telling Leon that she’s fine and can’t walk, even including a phrase that it was just a bite of an ant. But Leon insisted on carrying her. It makes you feel jealous. Like, you are his girlfriend while Ada is just a random FBI Agent who appeared out of nowhere and saved Leon from infected dogs. Then, why is he treating her as if you are not around? Does he even realize that he was hurting you? Does he realize that a man who’s in a relationship shouldn’t act like that around his girlfriend? 
            So, to not ruin Leon’s time with her and to avoid making an issue between you in the middle of a zombie outbreak, you uncovered your arm, letting it bleed. You’re wearing a black hoodie so the blood isn’t noticeable. Claire will be here soon so you can treat your wound later. You wouldn’t die if you bleed and wait for Claire, would you? With a heavy sigh, you walked away, taking the lead while Leon followed you with Ada in his arms. 
          Soon, you found Claire with Sherry in a safe room. She was treating Leon’s wounds too while Ada was resting in the bed. While you are looking outside through the window. It was your only way to ease the pain and jealousy you felt. That shot could have killed Leon if you didn’t cover him. That could’ve cost your life too. This isn’t the first time you felt jealous. This is the tenth time you felt this way and you hate it. You noticed how Ada acts around Leon and she usually dismisses you. If she did, it was against her will. 
            You are in deep thought when you hear Sherry gasp… 
“Y/n, you’re bleeding! Why are you not saying anything?!” With that, you gained everyone’s attention. Claire immediately approached you and found your arms bleeding. 
“How could you not say anything! You’ll die if we don't treat this immediately!” Claire scolded you, rolling up your sleeves, and gasped when he found your injury bleeding more. She grabbed all the things she needed and started treating your wound. 
                 You gritted your teeth as Claire took the bullet out of your arm and wrapped it with a bandage. Leon approached you too and attempted to hold your hand but you declined and said, “I can manage.” And there Leon realized that something was wrong.
               Until one day… you find out Ada’s secret. Upon finding out about this, anger quickly rushed down through your veins and quickly grabbed your gun and pointed it to Ada and fired multiple times but none of the bullets hit her as it was your way to catch her attention. 
“Tell us the truth, Ada Wong,” You growled venomously. “Tell us who the hell are you…” 
“Y/n!” Leon quickly stood between you and Ada, facing you. “Put the gun down! What the hell is wrong with you?!” He shrieked. 
“That bitch is fooling around us! She told us that she was an FBI Agent when I didn’t see her record on the FBI’s server! Stay away from that traitor, Leon!” You hissed, firmly pointing your gun at Ada. 
            Ada did not reply but there is no hint of worry or regret in her eyes. Instead, she glared at you. She stepped in front of you, never breaking eye contact with you. She then smirked and put on a smug look on her face. 
“Traitor? Seriously? If you are just a student, you wouldn’t know how to access the FBI’s server. From the very start, I’ve been helping you and Leon. I’ve saved your life a lot of time and now this is how you are going to repay me?!” Ada hissed at you. 
“For an eighteen-year-old student, it’s not easy to hack the FBI. What about you, Y/n? Who the hell are you?” She turned the tables around. She takes steps closer to you as if she was challenging you.
“Don’t change the topic, Ada. You’re working under Albert Wesker, right? One of the researchers and the reasons why the hell we are here in this damn situation? Too bad, Ada. You did not pass as the best actress.” 
            Then, Ada attacked you at such speed. Of course, you dodged her attacks and are more trained than her regardless of your age and state in the government. You may be just a student, practicing Law but no one must look down on you or even doubt your commitment especially when you are doing this for your team’s safety. The combat between you and Ada ended when you pulled the trigger and hit her on the waist. Ada grunted and you took the opportunity to take her down. 
“Y/n, enough!” Leon pulled Ada away with such care which breaks your heart more. Claire was holding Sherry who was sobbing in her embrace. 
“Leon, are you defending her?” You asked, feeling betrayed. Leon put Ada to the side for a moment before pulling you away to a more private room. 
“What the hell did you just do?! You know that Ada is our key point to survive this damn apocalypse!” Leon hissed at you and of course, you retorted back. 
“From the very start, I did not trust that woman even a bit! It feels like she planned to cross paths with us to gain our trust and take the samples because she is working for Albert Wesker!” 
“Aside from accusing her, shooting her, how did you access the FBI’s server? We have only limited devices! We even barely called for help and now we found out that you accessed the FBI just to do some stupid research on her!” 
“Stupid research? I did it for our safety!” You rebutted. “Leon… I don’t understand. Why are you being so protective of her? Why are you defending her? Leon, I am your girlfriend.” 
              Leon sighed. “You are. But these days, it feels like we’re not together. It feels like you are different from the girl I love. I… I don’t know you anymore.” Your heart shatters as Leon said those. Tears filled your eyes, your heart pounded against your chest, and a lump formed in your throat. 
               You couldn’t believe that Leon was saying this to you when you just want to protect him, to protect everyone. A tear slipped out your eye and you pulled yourself away. “Are you doubting me, Leon? Do you believe that the fake agent is your girlfriend?” Then Leon snapped at you, 
“Don’t call her that!” 
“Then what?!” You yelled at him. “You think I don’t notice your behavior ever since she came into our lives? That you are becoming more affectionate to her than me? That you will prioritize her over me? That night when those groups of survivors chased us and tried to kill us, I saw how worried you were for her that you insisted on carrying her when she just had a shot in her leg because of her stupidity, rather than me catching the bullet for you!” 
                 Leon was taken aback by your sudden outburst. 
“If there’s someone I truly don’t know anymore, that is you, Leon. Even thinking if I should approach you for help is difficult for me because your attention was on Ada. Tell me the truth, Leon. Is there someone else? Is there someone else who captured your heart away from me?” 
              He didn’t reply to your question. Seeing you in this kind of situation hurts him. But he couldn’t lie to you. His silence is enough for you. With a deep breath, you turned away from him. 
“I can leave, if that’s what you want. I know you very much, Leon. As a rookie police officer, you wouldn’t ride the same boat with the person you are doubting. But mark my words, Leon…” You paused but Leon interrupted you. 
“You’re not leaving.” You turned to look at him and he was looking directly into your eyes. “We will survive this apocalypse together, I promise. Please, stay with us. For me….” 
               For his sake, you stayed. To not lose him, you swallowed your pride for him. Until one night… when you almost escape the damned city, things went wrong again. He broke his promise.
                You woke up from being knocked out and there you found yourself cuffed in a chair. You looked out to the glass window and found Leon heading to the helicopter with Ada. And the sound of zombies banging outside of the room you are in made you panic even more. So, you forcefully pulled your hands off the handcuffs. You kept pulling yourself and your wrists started to bleed. Tears fall from your eyes, struggling to be free. “Leon!” You yelled and winced in pain until you successfully freed yourself. You banged against the glass to gain his attention. 
           He did. He looked at you who was crying, scared of death. The banging of zombies against the door gets louder and you look at Leon with pleading eyes as blood stains the clear glass that was coming from your wrists. 
“Leon, don’t leave me here! Help me!” You screamed but Leon only looked at you with saddened eyes. 
              He had no choice but to leave you. Even if it hurts him to see you crying like a puppy, injured and terrified, there’s no other way but to leave with Ada. The woman in red noticed that Leon was looking in your direction. So, she held his hand and gave him an assuring smile. 
“Leon, I know that this is hard but you need to strengthen yourself…” 
              What breaks your heart more is that he smiled at her before proceeding to walk to the helicopter.  After connecting the dots, you realize they use you as the bait while they take the opportunity to escape. With that, anger rushed throughout your veins upon realizing that Leon just betrayed you. He betrayed you for Ada. Your hands clenched into fists while your wrists keep bleeding. 
             Leon gave you a last look and he saw nothing but pain and anger in your eyes as if you were cursing him for betraying you. There’s no point in turning back now. Call him selfish but he made up his mind…
          And so he rides the helicopter with Ada, leaving you, scared and alone. Soon, the zombies break into the room where you are in. You ain’t going to cry and let those zombies eat you alive. On that night, you vowed to yourself that no matter what it takes, you will get your revenge on them. You used all the weapons you can use just to survive even if you’re alone. 
           Remembering how you struggled to survive made your eyes teary. You don’t want to be as weak as the person you used to be. That night when Leon betrayed you, another persona came into you. It made you more powerful. Having Leon back makes you feel like meeting your past self. A naive, sweet, and caring young girl who was now looking at a sophisticated, high-class, elite, and exclusive prosecutor and a superior of the country’s most powerful agency, the CIA. 
            You put your glass down and the cigarette on the ashtray before removing your black leather gloves and looking at the scars on your wrists that were carved on your skin. You still can feel the pain those cuffs gave you. When you survived and escaped that damned city, you started wearing gloves, not wanting to see your scars. 
              Anger rushed down through your veins. You grabbed the glass and threw it away with a growl, creating shattering sounds. There, you broke into tears. You rest your head against the backrest while you drape your arm over your eyes as you weep. 
“I will make your life a living hell, Leon Kennedy.” You muttered under your breath before passing out.
            Leon, who was patiently waiting for you outside the VIP Room heard a shattering sound inside. And there he found you, sitting on the couch with your head resting against the backrest with an arm draped over your eyes. He sighed in relief that you were fine. 
“Is that how you throw tantrums?” He asked. You didn’t reply, not even moving from your position. Leon sighed again, realizing that you passed out. 
             The man approached you to pick you up but something caught his attention. Your scars. He moved closer to you and stared at your scars. It was carved around your wrists. Your skin was torn, he can tell that the cuffs he gave you back then have made you ruin your skin, desperate to escape. 
          Leon still remembers how you looked at him with a fire of rage in your eyes as your tears fell uncontrollably. When he looked at you during his introduction as your bodyguard, the flame was even worse behind your calm expression. The mystery of Prosecutor L/n's gloves is now finally solved. 
         Suddenly…
"Traitor…" Leon snapped back to his senses and looked at you. You are looking at him with hooded eyes. You stood up and grabbed your bag and gloves before walking to the door, without regretting telling him that. Because that's what he is.
To be continued...
1K notes · View notes
kangmoon27 · 4 months
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Control You | Jungkook FF
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Pairing: Supreme leader/cult yandere possessive Jungkook x force wife Yn.
Summary: Growing up it was never in his wanting to be the leader of a cult but if it means he could have you and control you then he's up with it.
Growing up, he really hates the fact that he's next in line. He hates the fact that he has to stay here in this kind of society. He wanted to leave but sadly he couldn't, soon the whole society will be controlled by him, everyone will follow him and it's because he's born to be the leader of this cult.
Jungkook never wanted to be part of this but he doesn't have a choice, he had to, he's born to be like this, he's born to be like this.
Of course he tried to leave his birth place but always failed. It's either someone caught him nor his mother will beg him not to leave this place while kneeling on the ground crying.
But something made him stoped from leaving this society and even convinced him to stay. It's not something, it's actually someone.
Choi Yn who's a daughter of one of the cult member. She's born brave and talented who's absolutely gorgeous but everything seems to be wasted if she will just stay here in this toxic society where everyone admires their leader who all did was to brainwashed his people but not Yn.
She's smart enough to understand the wrong doing inside this cult she belong to. She promised herself that one day she will leave this place and have a better life far away from here but it was ruined. Her dream was ruined.
Jungkook became crazy for her. He keeps on following her around like a lost puppy, begging her to accept his proposal to make her as his wife but lady Yn never agree.
Jungkook will surly do everything for her so he made a deal with his father. He said he will stop trying to leave this cult of only Yn will be his bride and without thinking twice his father agreed.
Yn has no other choice but to actually marry him. For the sake of her family she had to do what he says. As simple as that, he's in control while she's under control.
"A beautiful shade of light pink will surly look good on you my lady" he whispered while kissing your neck. He stared at you through the mirror while smirking. He pulled the zipper of your dress up and turned you around.
"See, I told you, it will look good on you. But it would be much better without it." Your husband said while biting his lips. You surely did turned him on, just the way you look so helpless with those pity eyes. The way you never argue and just always do what he says. Being an obedient wife like how he wanted surely keeps on turning him on.
His thumb brushes your lips. He smile at you before pulling you by your waist and k'ssed you. You gave yourself freely knowing what the consequences would be if you didn't.
After some moment he finally pulled away and took a deeper breath after the breathless k'ss you both just did. The smile on his face never vanished knowing he won his battle, he won you.
"Just stay like that and everyone will be safe under my control baby." He chuckles before grabbing your hand and pulled you out of the room.
Everyone is complementing how good looking you were and how lucky you are that their supreme leader chooses to marry you. But that's what they just thought cause if only you could speak up right now all you wanted to do is to shout and course them for talking bullsh't.
You've never got this so much attention before, no one even thinks of taking your side when you tried to asked them to leave this cult. Not even your own parents but now they all complementing you just because you're the wife if the leader. Position really speaks loud and if you don't have it they your voice is useless cause no one will believe you.
"I told you. We loon good together, everyone literally said that my love and it's time for you to believe it." Jungkook whispered and kisses you. His hand travel down your waist and pulled you closer to him completely closing the gap between the two of you after seeing someone approaching you both.
"Long time no see Yn. It's been awhile. I missed you." Junghyun said trying to hide his pain. Your eyes meet his and it begin to filled with tears. You missed him so much. The memories of both of you flashes back and begin playing in your brain. You wanted to tell him how much you missed him and love him but it's too late. Both of you just looked at each in sorrow. The untold and discontinue story between the two of you hunted in regret.
"It's appropriate to talk to someone's wife like that mostly to your supreme leader Junghyun." Your husband said while gripping his hold on your waist. Junghyun bow at him as respect while you're left being shameless and scared. You knew exactly what will happen as soon as you get home.
"I'm sorry supremo. My apology if you think that was ruined." He glance at you while you just looked away not wanting to have another commotion that will burn your husband in anger.
"Please excuse me. I'll take my leave now. Have a great day." With that Junghyun left leaving Jungkook offended and mad.
He feels insecure after facing your ex lover. Knowing you used to love him fully and naturally not by force like what he did just to get you.
"Fck I hate him. Fck it, we're going home." Whisperings those and pulled you away with him.
"Tell me how good daddy is, huh?" His hands circle around your n'ck as he pushed his full l'ngth inside slamming his hips back then forward to make you whimpers and cries
He loved the wet and creamy texture of your c'nt. "So good!" You whimpered again grabbing his biceps to dig your nails inside them.
"The way you fill me up makes me wanna get fcked every single day, hour, minute and second" You looked into his eyes as he did the same.
He attacked your neck while his h'ps kept moving.
You started crying while hugging him, feeling him deep buried inside you made you feel disgusted. You can feel how every inch of his organ touches and feels you. Soon he c'm and thinking it was done Jungkook bang the wall and keeps on going.
He flipped you, facing the pillow as he pushed himself back in your c'nt while his fingers played with your f'lds. His t'ngue l'cked your back and started s'cking on it leaving marks that you unwanted.
"You're mine okay, just mine." He said shot himself inside you. "Sh't knee down and take me like you own me. Be obedient."
A knocked on the door woke you up only to find yourself alone in your bedroom. You tried searching for your husband but he's no where to be found and once again the door knocked. As soon as you opened it your eyes light up but your smile came crushing down realizing how bad thing would be if your seen to be together.
It's you against the whole community. "What are you doing here?" You asked but Junghyun just smiled at you and pulled you into a deep k'ss.
"You send me a letter that you wanted us to run away right then let's go. It's our time now we should leave already before everyone wakes up." Junghyun started pulling you hand and walked out of the house using the back door.
The whole tribe wa quite, it's middle of the night and people are already sleeping. This is exactly what you wanted. Escape from this cult and be with him but something isn't right.
You never sent a message nor letter to him mostly about running away knowing how Jungkook gripped on your n'ck is. You pulled away from Junghyun making him look at you in confused.
"T-this is wrong, I have to go back and you should too! It's his plan Junghyun." The confusion is written on his face. He clearly didn't know what's happening until every one revealed themselves one by one from their hiding place, soon your husband also came out looking so sad and betrayed.
"Was I not enough for you my love? I gave you all even my whole life but you still choose to be with him and continue cheating on me?." Jungkook cried infront of his people trying to get the sympathy of each and everyone of his cult.
"How could you both betrayed our supremo!! You both deserve the worst punishment!!." A woman from the crowd whom you called your mother speak up breaking your heart even more. He's really good at manipulating everyone that's he's already been the victim that even turned the table and make your parents turn on his side.
"N-no no no please mother I love your daughter very much I would be more in pain if I'll lose her. It's all his fault if he'll be gone then me and my wife will never have a problem again. It's all his fault." Jungkook said crying to convince everyone that it's Junghyun's fault.
You run towards Jungkook and started slapping him while he just let you do it to him as everyone started drugging Junghyun away shouting the word "burn him Alive, burn him Alive" repeatedly.
"W-what? No no no no no I love him!! I want him it's my fault." Your mother came to you and slapper you, your body landed on the ground and looked at her in disbelief.
"How could you do such a thing Yn!! All supremo wanted was to give you the best and love that you need. You're lucky enough that he choose you to be his wife and this is what you will do in return?!." She picked you up and pushed you to Jungkook as he immediately locked you in his embrace.
"She's all yours supremo, don't worry we will take care of him." Your mother said before turning her head on you. Soon you and your husband was the only one left.
A hard slap landed on your cheek. Falling on the ground while caressing your cheek you saw him going on his knees and grabbed your chin so hard.
"I'll break you tonight. I'll break you into pieces and mould you again, I'll mould you like how a perfect obedient wife would be cause I'm in control and I controlled you."
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 5
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summary ;; What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? PART 4 | PART 6 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; jake is so depressing here. i also took liberty with his character and the reasonings for his decisions in atwow, sorry in case if thats not how you see him LMAO happy reading 💞 please excuse my mistakes if you see any! ‼ I DONT TAKE TAG REQUESTS ANYMORE ‼
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“One chance, Jakesuli. You will only have one chance. Use it well. Our Great Mother favors you, that we know. But this favor hasn’t been granted to you. It has been granted to my granddaughter.”
“I won’t fail.” Not again. 
“What does failing mean, I wonder. Would you fail if you take her soul back from her happiest? Or would you fail if you let her have the peace our Great Mother has laid her into?” 
“I will get my daughter back. This isn’t her time. If Eywa has given me this chance, then she thinks the same as me.”
“You will take that honor from her, then?” Mo’at was being cryptic, but Jake saw through the exterior of the neutral Tsahik into an exhausted, mourning grandmother. “She was the daughter of Toruk Makto, and he was her last shadow.”
It came back to Jake in a gut-churning realization, it was his shadow that had fallen over you from the light of the torches on the walls as you’d given your last breath. It was his shadow. “No,” he refused, adamantly. “She will get to achieve greater honors of her own than that. I won’t be the one defining her ending.” The last bead of your songcord having his name, Toruk Makto’s name, was supremely wrong to him. He would not accept this fate for you. 
“Very well, then.” Secretly, she was pleased with him. With his answer. “Get going. As I said. One chance.”  
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Jake would never be able to get used to the magnificence that was Vitraya Ramunong, or, the Tree of Souls. To him, Pandora itself was a marvel already too good to be true that he’d fallen in love with, and abandoned his own race for, there was no getting used to the beauty for a human like him who’d only found it once in neon lights, ever. He could reach the end of his natural lifespan in this body and still there would be much left to discover. That’s why Jake was more vulnerable to one of the beating hearts of Eywa in the shape of a giant, glowing willow tree. 
No Na’vi was immune to the soul-purifying, all-consuming, yet being-dwarfing peace enveloping one��s very spirit, in a cradling hug as if they were nothing but a newborn in their mother’s arms. In here, only one fact mattered: they were childrens of Eywa, all of them dear, all of them seen, all of them safe and sound, including him, once alien to Eywa the way Earth was related to Pandora. Everything spoke to him here in a language he didn’t understand, but could respond to, again, in a language he didn’t understand, his soul doing the communicating. 
Jake was also a child here, Eywa’s chosen child. 
And he had come to her door for the most difficult request of his life, feeling like he was asking his mother for money right after he had crashed their car, unable to look her in the eye and expecting the biggest of scoldings for his shamelessness. 
This was nothing like asking for her assistance against the sky people, back then, he had agency, power, the clans backing him up, Toruk. If Eywa didn’t hear him, he would fight until the last drop of blood in his body was spent anyway, he was ready.
Now, he had nothing. 
Nothing to offer in return, not one concrete reason as to why he should have his daughter back other than being a desperate father with nowhere to return to other than the mercy of the Great Mother. He just wanted his child. Nothing mattered. 
Not how and why Quaritch had spawned right under his nose with an avatar body, not how they could even slither in without detection, not the threat of what the sky people could bring upon their heads with that — nothing, not now. Nothing mattered until he saw this through. 
Jake had found the will to quite literally tear himself from your side like nail from flesh only when you’d stabilized enough. Stabilized, as in, the faintest rise and fall of your ribcage Neteyam had to stare from where he was sitting like a sentinel for a full minute to spot, a tideless, still ocean only moving with whiffs of wind, his own breathing unnoticeable — to match yours, or to silence the sounds in his own body to hear better, Jake didn’t know. 
No sky person was allowed to take over from Mo’at and Kiri. Norm had told Jake none of this made sense, if the bullet had nicked the bowels enough and the dirt leaked into the bloodstream, the possibility of sepsis was eventual, and if it didn’t, you had bled too much anyway, a blood transfusion was necessary, and the internal organs... — Christ, the amount of bad end scenarios Jake had been subjected to was as if they were telling him to open a grave for you anyway. Tsahik had scoffed into their faces. The way of healing was something none of them would see, she had scoffed. Now ally, or not. You can’t fill a cup that’s already full. Jake was in a hopeless need for water into wine kind of miracle, and honestly, he wasn’t complaining. 
Leaving High Camp behind to set off on a journey calling for only him was one of the hardest things he’d done yet, the silhouette of you lying motionless, his family scattered around the tent, shadowed in their own mourning, folded into themselves was burned into his mind, glimpses of their pain visible from eclipses of light occasionally falling on their faces. A sight he never wanted to see again in his life if he could help it. It was a frosted, iron-thorned hand squishing his heart into ground meat. 
Tuk, ever the stingy monopolizer, had brought her favorite toys to scatter around you because she thought they’d comfort you the way they comforted her, had tried snuggling with your unconscious body and was warned by Kiri only to hold your hand instead. She had taken to playing with your fingers, the depressive gloom of years beyond her age crooked on her. Jake couldn’t stand the sight of the little girl telling you bedtime stories he and Neytiri used to, for a moment only, he could pretend you were just going along with your sister’s whims and smiling with your eyes closed as you listened. 
Kiri, buzzing around to change the bandage-leaves that soaked up some sort of sickly black colored puss every couple hours, had explained to him the salve they used on you was getting the infection and the splinters of the bullet they couldn’t get out of your body, which had turned the color of your blood into that — but the thing was, given the dwelling of the woodsprite in your mouth, they couldn’t feed you the porridge-like mix to speed up the process of blood production in the bone marrow, and she was exerting herself looking for some other way. 
Before he’d left the tent for good, she had handed him the bullet— or, the biggest piece of it they’d taken out of your body, it was a mere pursed and shriveled, tiny metal. The exhausted girl had stammered when explaining that whatever they’d hit you with, had broken into shards inside you upon impact, creating severe lacerations and lethal hemorrhage that they’d worked tirelessly to pick out.
Jake had stared hollowly at it for the longest time. This small thing. It was such a small thing that took you from him. 
The sentence that sent you away was also as small, and damning as this bullet. ‘Go.’   
Kiri had seen it sink in his face, closing her five-fingered hand on his palm, on the bullet. “You should get going, dad,” she’d said. “We’re okay here.”
Jake had taken one last look. At Neytiri wiping your body to clean all the congealed blood. At Tuk holding your hand. At Kiri trying to fill in shoes bigger than her feet. At you lying down with trinkets surrounding you like funeral flowers. And forced his body to keep moving when all he wanted to do was stay. 
He’d then heard Lo’ak complaining to his older brother outside the tent, “How can he be so cold?” The heaviness was getting to the boy, agitated and misapprehending. But he was always this way, if something was out of his control, the inability to act to change it manifested as frustration, blind anger. “Why is he so… unresponsive? Emotionless?”
Jake would have let it slide had it been about something else, but his children running their mouths not knowing he was a hair's breadth away from going clinically insane had gotten to him. He was burning alive. 
“You think I don’t care, boy?” He emerged from the tent like some last boss, initially not caring he’d scared the brothers. “You think I don’t feel at all? My own child dying in the same arms I used to hold her as a baby — you think that doesn’t faze me?”
Neteyam, the mediator, or rather, the blame-taker, ran to his little brother’s rescue, the latter too flabbergasted to form any words yet. “Dad, he doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what he means.” When the anger subsided, Jake sighed with the weariness of an ancient man. The flames had died before they could climb, he was too exhausted for it. Honesty and trust, as Neytiri had said. 
Having lost everything, having nothing to lose, and having a lot to lose were somehow simultaneously the same thing to Jake in the predicament he’d found himself in. “I know how you see me. You only know me as the person I want to show you.” 
Lo’ak’s go-to answer was presented to Jake on a silver platter. “Sorry, sir.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. Jake wasn’t trying to get Lo’ak to bow his head. “Don’t apologize—” He cut himself short, licking his chapped lips, and after rubbing his face, he’d put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Lo’ak. Son. I feel this, alright? Of course I do. I’m your father.” He shook him gently, feeling the words weren’t reaching him, who was just staring at something on the ground off to the side. “There’s no greater pain a parent can go through in life than losing his child. You can’t understand what this means right now—what it’s doing to me. You will only know when you become a father yourself.” He gently tapped Lo’ak on the chin so he would raise his head and look at him in the eye already. And when he did, Jake said what he said slowly, hoarsely. “But know this. Know I will lose myself if I lose you, or any of your siblings.” He turned to Neteyam as well, who was watching in full alert mode. “I’m fighting not to lose my sanity as we speak.”
Lo’ak swallowed, unsure and weirded out to hear something like this for the first time in his life. Jake didn’t blame him. He was never emotionally upfront or honest before, not even used to it, more awkward with it than his boys were. But none of that mattered. Not anymore, after what happened to you because of his shortcomings. “You just look so composed—“
“I have to be.” Jake shook his head, eyelids hanging heavy, his whole head was heavy. “I just can’t crumble under it, do you understand? I have to be strong. I can’t lose myself in it. Your sister needs me. You need me. To be strong.” He took his hands off the boy’s shoulders, putting a palm on his cheek and patting a few, fatherly times before backing off altogether. “Never say that I don’t care. Never. I might not show it—and it’s a father’s duty not to show it, so my family will have a stable anchor. Get what I’m saying?” 
Lo’ak looked reassured, lighter. So that’s what Neytiri had meant. “How… how can I help?”
His youngest son’s inclination to get to the root of the problem and pump out solutions was in consanguineous with his inability to stop and wait, uncomfortable in his skin when he couldn’t do anything to improve the situation and was confronted with the intimacy of having to feel, always wanting to act. Lo’ak was like Jake in that way. Awkward when it came to communication. Dishonest with themselves.  
“Stay here.” Jake said, right from his heart. “Stay safe. I don’t wish for anything else in this world.”
Lo’ak’s eyes softened, and as the father, Jake felt the renewal of the bond between them, saw the understanding in his youngest son, saw something else than the guilt and regret over being caught after mischief, for once. “I’m sorry, dad.”
“Don’t apologize.” He shared a meaningful look with him, trying to convey, again, his apology wasn’t what he wanted. Yet, his sons were defaulted to saying sorry half the time they spoke to him nowadays. Jake was understanding the severity of it, too much too late. Lo’ak nodded, ears tipped down slightly.
Then he turned to the eldest. “Neteyam—”
But he opened his mouth before Jake could say anything else. Ready. Always on his feet. “Yes, I will—”
Jake clicked his tongue. “Rest.”
Neteyam was about to say yes to whatever he was told to do, as always, but stopped right in the middle of it, voice catching in his throat, eyes blinking in confusion. “What?”
“Rest.” 
“But—”
“Rest, Neteyam, I won’t tell you again.”
God knows he needed it. Neteyam looked like he’d been having night terrors for days, accumulated anxiety making him jumpy. “Sorry, sir.”
“Stop—“ Jake caught himself before he could raise his voice. “Why are you apologizing?”
Neteyam didn’t talk for a while. But when he did, he was looking up at him underneath his lashes, unable to keep eye contact for more than two seconds. “It’s my fault.”
“Bro,” Lo’ak said, a pitiful objection.
Jake knew where this was going. “What is?” 
“I should have been there.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line before furrowing his brow, closing his eyes. Jake knew what he was seeing, repeated over and over again in his mind. “I should have known right away when I couldn’t catch up to her. I could have prevented it. It’s my responsibility.” One tear slipped by as he hung his head. “My fault.”
There it is.
Jake had told him before. “You’re the older brother, you gotta act like it.” — even though you and him were more like affable twins than older brother and younger sister that he never had to explicitly be a guardian to you like he was to Lo’ak, he had to be thinking this was his biggest failure. Neteyam was just reflecting what he’d been taught, the standards his father was holding him up to. Of course the boy had been overthinking it to the point where he was the catalyst to the event by not predicting your fakeout. 
“No,” Jake rasped, after a beat. “This is on me first, and the sky people who got to her second. And that’s the end of the story.”
Neteyam, up until this point, had to bear half the blame, if not the rest of it, for the consequences of his siblings’ actions. Upon receiving this kind of answer, he startled with an incredulous gasp and full stare at Jake. “But I—”
“It’s not about you, Neteyam,” Jake explained, although the words were harsh, he had done his best to soften the impact. “I did this. Blame me, okay?”
‘How could I?’ was written in neon letters over the boy’s head even if he didn’t say anything. Too good-natured. He idolized Jake a lot more than the man deserved. “Mother was… she was… She is grieving, she doesn’t mean it.”
“You gotta stop making excuses for people, boy. Especially when they’re in the right.” A smile pulled on his lips, but died as it was born. “I pushed and pushed until we reached the edge, thinking there was never an edge at all. I should have known better. I should have been better. This is between me and your sister, and that’s why it is me who has to go to the Tree of Souls.” 
And he’d left, but not before pulling his boys into his chest, cradling the back of their heads against himself, the smell of home repulsing instead of comforting. Prickles on his skin was the comfort he got from being able to hug his children when you were absent. It didn’t feel right. 
He missed you dearly, an aching, gaping hole in his very being that only grew larger as he saw what you left behind half-completed or messy like you’d stood up and gone off for a minute to come back to it later — 
The unmade pallet from the night of your Iknimaya argument that Jake had shed tears on when he’d seen the state of it, having the signs of someone getting up from it like you would be returning to go back to sleep any second.
The unfinished bark plate you had set aside to eat later and fought Lo’ak not to touch it. a squabble Jake had to break before you started wasting food by throwing it at each other. 
The stack of fruits you’d gathered that you never shared except for Neytiri sometimes. 
The half-carved cup you were working on because the regular cups weren’t big enough for your water needs and you didn’t like to refill it about three times until you were satisfied. 
The incomplete anklet you were making out of rainbow beads for Tuk that was confidential to everyone but Jake, who knew from observing you, of course — you were missing a couple colors that you just couldn’t seem to find, nagging his head off to just let you roam around farther and there was no danger as the sky people couldn’t get in the vortex.  
The little animal doodles you scratched at your side of the tent when you couldn’t sleep at nights, waking Jake up in the process every single time to listen until your breathing evened out as sleep retook you in its arms again, because he was bodily programmed to startle awake at one single rustle in his living quarters from his Marine days and fell into old habits after the return of the sky people, he knew you had developed insomnia from being uncomfortable at High Camp, longing for your hammock cocooned in the safety and comfort of the forest.
And the dumb romance novels you had taken from the humans that you, Kiri and Tuk giggled about at girl’s nights reading out loud, Spider invited as an honorary guest at times, just so you could tease Kiri about him and annoy your brothers that they weren’t allowed in, but the human boy was. 
All of them had no owner now. Neither of your family members could look at them, your ghost would appear in precious memories beside your belongings if they looked too much. He didn't need to concentrate for a phantom of you to appear, you were everywhere he looked, and even now, as the gently pulsating lavender humming, a song from Eywa herself, right underneath the veinlike, labyrinthine roots was the cool summer rain on Jake’s sizzling skin, all he could see was your first communion with Eywa in his arms while Neytiri formed the tsaheylu, the clan spread all around them in celebration. 
“You’ve called, and I’ve answered,” he greeted in positivity. “I think this is the most direct you’ve been with me in a long while.”
He didn’t know if it was Eywa or you he was saying this to. He genuinely didn’t know. 
Kneeling, and putting his arms on the mossy, thick root, he looked up to see the woodsprites swaying and floating in the air. He reached for his braid, letting the squirming nerve-endings coil around the white-cored lavender thread closest to him, taking in the presence of Eywa, all around yet nowhere at all, but listening. No sign of you. Was he supposed to talk like this? Just like this? Was he not allowed to see you? 
Jake had to admit he had been harboring the tiniest expectation of meeting you somehow, or hearing your voice through the connection like he did with a Tree of Voices when Mo’at had cryptically informed him of his chance. But this was it? 
If he failed, this would be it. 
“I guess this isn’t all that different,” he said out loud, instead of thinking inwards where the confusion flew. “It’s been like this for a while now, you and I. You talk, I don’t hear you. I talk, you don’t hear me. We throw the same ball at each other only for it to bounce back. Monologuing to a tree is the same thing, except it doesn’t talk back like you do.” 
He looked up and around, there was nothing else to do. The air was the same as it always was in here. Always accommodating to what each Na’vi found comforting. “The last time I came here like this was to ask for Eywa’s help in the last stand against sky people. I told her I would fight either way, I knew that’s why she’d chosen me. All my life, all I’ve done was fight. Even when I wasn’t able to, I was fighting lesser battles with the excuse of not having anything to fight for. It’s all I’ve known. All I’ve ever done. It’s what I was best at.” His brow twitched, and Jake tried to keep his composure, not because he didn’t want anybody to see, no, it was to keep his shit together so he didn’t fuck this up. He had to be honest. His pride was the last thing he needed in his way at the moment. 
“You were born to a different man. To a changed man. To a father who could let go because he thought his family was safe. You got to meet the man I used to be when my reason for fighting came back from my star. I know you don’t like that person — you can’t — couldn’t get used to him. I know.” 
From the discomfort, his fingers dug into the moss first, and found the bark of the root, his fist curling on it next. “But I had to keep fighting.” He softly brought his fist back on the root. “The strong prey on the weak, that’s just how things are. That’s how I had it on my star. And my kids — you, you are weak, and it’s not an insult — it’s not me criticizing, Jesus, you are just children, and there’s a war on your damn heads. That’s what I mean. That’s what I’ve always meant. It’s natural that you are weak, Eywa was kind enough to let you be soft. Not Earth, though, never Earth.” 
Jake had to clench his teeth and bite the anger into the inside of his mouth to not be boiled alive — not to let it reach to your side. He let out a soundless snarl. “You would never be ready for the cruelty of Earth, I would never wish that upon any of you. But it was brought to you. Right at your doorstep. I couldn’t protect you from it by hugs and kisses. You wouldn’t be safe from a gun extended to you by extending a branch in return. No.” 
He reached and caressed the glowing thread, brows furrowed. “I did what I thought was right to prepare you. Every single one of you. I was making you tough. I had to. To protect you. And of course there would be clashing along the way, it’s what happens between parent and child. We fight. We fight like cats and dogs for dominance. You try me to show strength. I stand my ground to let you know you gotta do better.” 
He had fired those sentences with incoherent speed, and when he got to the end of it, Jake got choked up. Stopped for a moment, took a breath. Blinking several times, his tone became vulnerable, he didn’t have anyone in front of him, but he tore away his gaze anyway. “Somewhere along the way, things just… Without me noticing, everything…” He sighed through his nose, his voice nothing but a whisper. “I fought more battles than I fought for my family. I thought I was doing my job as a father when I didn’t even know shit about being a father.” 
A couple seconds floated by, and his gaze was stolen by a lone woodsprite descending down until it staggered on the fist he had against the root. The shine of it reflected from the mistiness of his eyes. His lower lip slightly trembled at the thought of it being you. This little woodsprite. You? 
“The thing is, I’m lost, sweetheart,” he admitted quietly, small, shaky, not taking his eyes off the woodsprite. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I sit here, I look back, and think why I keep fighting. We could have migrated. Looked for a new Hometree. Another forest. Left the humans alone. Or made peace. A treaty. Something. None of your lives had to be sullied by war. Yet I chose this. I chose to fight, as I ‘ve always done, because now I had something to fight for. And the fighting wasn’t limited to them, I fought Neteyam, I fought Lo’ak, I fought you, my own kids, and I didn’t even know.” 
He reached for it with his other hand, tentatively, scared that it would fly away with the slightest contact. But he was able to touch the top of the woodsprite ever so slightly, the little zap making all the hair on his body stand up. Jake swallowed thickly, his whole head on fire. “I don’t know what to do. I just miss you. I miss you so much, sweet girl. I wish you would scream at me. Say you hate me for all I care. Anything. Hate me until the day you die, but do it with all of your family surrounding you in old age, in peace. I would be content knowing you are under the same sky as me. But I’m forgetting your voice already, and I—” He held back a violent sob, hissed to not let it out, and groaned, getting angry at himself for the emotions. He shut his eyes tightly, willing away the tears. “I wish I could say these to your face. I wish I could see you one last time, smiling at me.”
Having everything to lose. Having lost everything. Having nothing to lose. Three different meanings had coiled around each other like snakes to become one singular outcome in linear relation of cause-and-effect through you. It wasn’t a cycle.
Having something to fight for. Having nothing left to fight for. Having nothing to fight for. You were everything. Everything. What could Jake do? How was he supposed to fight when he had no concrete opponent? 
“I see you.”
The voice — your voice, albeit much, much younger, almost made him jump. When his eyes shot open, Jake was in a different location. He knew this place. The creek away from the village he and his family often frequented. 
The twilight penumbra of the eclipse dimmed the shadows embracing the forest, but the ethereally glowing lights of all colors illuminated and got reflected from the water as if it was a mirror. Above and all around him were lazily dancing fireflies — or, rather, bioluminescent bugs he didn’t know the names of, tiny stars floating in the air like glitter. It was magical.
Jake realized with aching melancholy that this was the first time he’d taken you out on an eclipse to show you the beauty of the forest on a special father-daughter date. The exact memory.  
The breath that left him was shaky as he felt the presence sitting right beside him, in the corner of his vision, he saw the ripples on the shining water made by swinging legs. 
Jake froze for a second. Unmoving. Not looking at all — because if this was a dream, or a hallucination, he wouldn’t be able to bear it. His breathing got louder, more labored, the log underneath his hands was so realistically textured and damp. If he looked. If he looked, you would disappear. That’s how he felt. 
He was supposed to talk. But now, his ribcage was holding the words hostage, burning with the strain of the pile-up. 
“But I’m sad you don’t see me,” you said, and he was shaken by hearing your voice yet again, remembering the moment he found himself here, how he’d heard — ‘I see you’. “You don’t even want to look at me.”
So much hurt and vulnerability in that sentence that it left him breathless. 
It all happened in a matter of seconds. Him launched into his own turmoil racking his brain about how Quaritch was back as an avatar, ignoring to look at you to protect his composure and just trying to think, think — think, of a plan, of a how, of what to do. You calling after him once Neytiri, you and he arrived at High Camp after dodging Quaritch’s men. Him purposefully walking away because he needed to cool off and not to explode on you right there and there.  
That whole time, Jake hadn’t looked at you. If he did, he would have seen you needed help.
He shattered, all of his walls crumbling down, stripped down to bare despair. 
“Oh sweetheart.” Before he knew it, he had wrapped his arms around you in a crushing hug, basically snatching you off from where you were sitting and on his lap, and your warmth, your pulse, your tangible existence wrenched a shiver out of him — and he buried his face to the little crook of your neck, taking your scent in, hiding his trembling face and the quiver of his arms by holding you tight. You were here. As your younger self, no older than eight, but he had you. Not bloody and battered in his arms, but alive, so alive. “Oh sweet girl, my sweet girl… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed the side of your head, felt the real tickle of your hair against his face, blessed with the soothe of his child’s smell. “I see you. Of course I see you. I’ve always seen you.” 
The snowflake-frail snivel followed by your sobbing sniffle broke his heart into pieces. “You’re a liar.” He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “You’re mean to me. You’re so mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.” That was all he could say. All he could do with his thrashing soul smoldering at the wetness of your tears on his shoulder. “I am mean. I’m sorry… You’re right, I’m sorry.” 
“It hurt so much.” You wailed. “It hurt a lot.” 
Jake began to caress your head with an awkward, clumsy, panicked hand, disturbed as to if you meant the moment of your death — at him pressing on the wound with all he had to stop the bleeding, or he and your strained relationship in general. “I know, sweetheart,” he said anyway, a stone clogging his throat. He didn’t try to explain, or tell you why, didn’t argue that it wasn’t what he meant to do. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He had you in his arms. “I know. I know.” 
You wouldn’t get to be younger than this. And maybe, he would never get to see you be older, either. The thought crumpled his face like some piece of paper. Jake just wanted to hold you. And when you wrapped your little arms around him too, freely crying in his arms, a couple tears escaped his eyes as well, he didn’t know what kind of face he was making, perhaps it was better that you didn’t see him crumble. 
In the middle of it somewhere, he realized that you were younger because it was your inner child that needed this, she was more honest — more open with Jake. It caused him to sway with you back and forth, ribcage hurting with each breath. And you let it all out, clinging to him. 
“I love you, always,” he whispered, watching the bioluminescent bugs, when you were calmer and had fallen silent on his chest, not wanting to let him go and just listening to his heartbeat. “Even if I don’t show it — especially when I don’t show it. You are loved, my sweet girl, more than you know. More than you’ll ever know. More than I can show.” He looked down at the top of your head, agonized. “But I want to try. I want to show you more, moving forward.”
Knowing what he was insinuating, “But it’s nice here,” you said, voice thick and coarse from crying. You still didn’t pull back to look at him. Both of you, from the start of this, never looked at one another. Not once. Embarrassed and shameful to be honest, Jake thought. That pride you two shared. “You’re not mean to me here.”
But he needed to see you. You needed to be seen. So, as gently as he could, he unwrapped your arms around him, and took your baby cheeks in his hands, and looked you in the eyes. Another tear slipped from him. “You been listenin’ to me, right sweetheart? From the start?” You nodded adorably. You wouldn’t have said oel ngati kameie and accepted to let him see you if you hadn’t felt his true intentions and heart through him pouring it all out at the Tree of Souls. “I’m hiding a lot of things. But I want to be open with you. You wanna know the secret why I’m… mean?” You nodded again, more reluctant this time. “It’s because I’m scared.”
You gasped, genuinely lost and shocked, and he tried not to smile at the purity, the innocence. “You? You’re scared?”
“All the damn time,” he whispered, landing a kiss on your temple, his opposite thumb tracing a loving line on your other temple. “Every day. Every night.”
“But you’re Toruk Makto. You’re never scared.”
“I’m also a dad,” he said sorrowfully, as if he was giving out a secret. “And it’s precisely why I’m scared. I’m scared for you. For your siblings. Of losing you. It turns into anger. Anger turns into irreparable damage. Things I can’t take back.”
In the blink of an eye, you were back to your real age. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, you had shed the exterior of your childhood. But he didn’t mind, didn’t let you off his lap. 
“Don’t be scared, I’m here,” you said, putting your own small palm on his cheek, upset by the fact that he was feeling like that in the first place rather than whatever explanation he had. Your response was also childish, but he leaned into your touch anyway, comforted regardless, even if you were already gone — for this moment, he could ignore that no, you weren’t here at all. “If you told us, we would have been more careful not to make you sad.” 
Ah, he was being lectured on communication by his kid. It had a certain flavor of humbleness to it. Jake adored it nonetheless. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t be mean anymore.”
“That’s a lie.”
Jake couldn’t stop the laugh, though it was tottering. “Yeah, it is. But I promise you that I’ll never hurt you again.”
“That’s a lie too. Wasn’t it you who said not to make promises you can’t keep?”
“Alright, smartypants, let me rephrase it then,” the little glimpses of your brash self made him happy. “I will never intentionally hurt you, and if I end up doing so, unknowingly, I will always make it up to you. No exceptions.” 
You were acting uninterested, but stole intrigued glances at him. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“I’ll let you choose, how does that sound?” Jake tapped your nose. “In return, if I don’t know and haven’t taken the first step, you’ll have to tell me outright what I did.”
You deadpanned. “But I always do.”
“No, you don’t.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “You become passive-aggressive when you’re annoyed and pick fights with me.”
“That’s not—”
“Sweetheart.” 
“Okay, fine.” You huffed. The normalcy had made him forget just what he was doing here. “But you get angry.”
“What I get angry at is—” He cut himself off with a tongue click. “Not important. I do get angry. But at sincere honesty, us just talking it out, I could never get angry at that. Is the difference clear?”
“I think it is.” You were apprehensive about something, your fingers on his neck flexing as if you wanted to pull them back and break the hug. “But you have to promise.”
“I promise.” And then, Jake remembered, a new fire hardening his face, not in anger, but determination. “And speaking of which. I would never. Ever. Not in a million years would get angry or blame you for getting hurt to that degree — for others, humans, avatars, whoever and whatever the hell they are, hurting you, I could never get mad at you for it. Do you understand me? Your safety is the most important to me. I could never hate you for it.” His voice dropped down to a softer, gentler tone just above a whisper. “There is nothing in this world that’ll make me hate you. Nothing. I will love you through the most heinous crimes and in inexcusable deeds, you will find forgiveness in me even if there’s nobody left, that’s a father’s heart. Forever and always, I am with you.” He touched his forehead, and then yours. “I see you.”
You avoided eye contact. 
Ah, yes, the famous emotional awkwardness. He was sort of aware his feelings had reached you, you just didn’t know what to say. Jake hadn’t been like this with you for the longest time. So, he decided to make you more comfortable. “Yes I will get mad at you for breaking curfew, and yes, we might stop talking for a while and beef about the dumbest things if the fight is too intense — but always, always come to me when something is wrong. I will drop everything without hesitation.” He leaned in a bit to catch your wayward stare. “Got it?”
You murmured. “Okay.”
“Are we clear?”
You murmured once more. “Yeah.”
“Repeat it, then.”
There was something between cringing and unwillingness on your face, but at his pointed look, you sighed, giving in. “Always come to you if something’s wrong even if we’re fighting.”
“That’s right,” he affirmed, encouraging to let you know this wasn’t embarrassing. “What else?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Dad will always love you.” He nudged you, noting the flick of your ears in happiness when he’d said it. “Come on, say it.”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but your voice was light. “Dad will always love me…”
“Dad will never hate you.”
Sheepishness took over, making Jake smile. “Dad will never hate me.”
“And. Come talk to me about it if I’ve ever hurt you without noticing so I can make it up to you.”
“Always go to you if I’m hurt and you’re unaware of it.”
“That’s right,” in this form as well, he gave your temple another kiss, heart soaring at your beautiful smile he had been dying to see. “Good girl.”
“You’re giving me a lot of power.” 
“Nothing my mighty hunter can’t handle.” 
The smile on your face died down. It came to Jake right away what had gone wrong. “Sweetheart—” “I didn’t mean that. You know—” But you didn’t know. Jake had to stop trying to make it easier on himself. “I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you. About everything. About the ikran, I’m so goddamn proud. I said it, and I can’t take that back, I was angry and I was trying reverse psychology — you know what, it doesn’t matter. But you are my mighty hunter. Will always be.”
You got confident a bit, but were still testing the waters. “Well I proved I am.”
“Yes, you did,” he rejoiced, no rejection or doubt whatsoever. “Message received, Lima Charlie.”
You giggled freely, joyfully at the recognition, and Jake ached again remembering how much he’d missed that carefree, precious thing, he swore pixie dust was in it. You slipped from his lap to sit crossed-legged beside him, and he instantly missed being able to hold you close. “Wish you were there to see me.”
“Me too, sweet girl.” Your Iknimaya was a disaster. A long-passed, sacred tradition broken wasn’t as important to him as it was to Neytiri — but he knew she longed to see you complete it, by your side, as eagerly as he did. And you had been alone in your pride, when he knew from a very young age, you had been the most excited for it. Everything had been ruined and there was nothing he could do to undo it. “Will you tell me about it?”
The phantom of pensiveness on his face hadn’t quite registered with you yet, getting excited to tell him all about it like nothing had happened the moment you knew Jake wanted to know. As if you weren’t dead. As if nothing was wrong. “Well first of all, I broke Neteyam’s record.”
A mournful smile tugged on his lips. “Did you now?”
“Hell yeah!” You started gesturing with your arms. “It took, like, two minutes? One minute? Too easy.”
“You know easy means the ikran didn’t give you much of a fight, right?”
“Or, or.” One finger was raised up at him to raise another option. “I was too skilled.” 
“The ikran might have been meh about you.” Jake teased. “You sure it chose you? Or did you just chase it down and it was stuck with you?”
“That’s so wrong!” He threw his head back to laugh at your outburst. “He was watching me get there the whole time! Like, from the start. His eye was on me, I just know it. You’re just jealous you didn’t get Bob like I got Jack. I was badass.”
That made him pause. “Jack?”
“Yeah, his name’s Jack.”
He couldn’t imagine Neytiri’s reaction to the blandest name imaginable, oh god. “Why?”
“Named him after you.” You tipped your head at him, raising your brows. “It’s healing, you know. He listens to me without questioning. He’s also very sweet. Unlike a certain someone.” 
“Oh you little shit—” 
“I didn’t say anything.” Raising your hands in defense first, you crossed your arms on your chest next. “Certain someone can mean anyone. It can mean Lo’jack—”
“Lo’jack, really? Really?” Jake half-snorted, half-scoffed. “This a new one after Lovak?”
“Jackiri—”
“Jackiri is pretty sweet, c’mon now,” he gave a blank stare. “Hope you’re not gonna say Jackeyam.”
“Jacktirey?” You asked, undecided. “She’s an anklebiter.”
“Oh, for sure.” 
“Could be Jack the Ripper, Bojack Horseman, Jack-in-a-box. Jack-o-lantern.”
“All people, of course.”
“Yeah, all people.” You snapped your fingers in mock-remembrance. “Hit the road Jack.” 
“Oh wow, even him?” Jake lowered his voice, leaning towards you, mocking astonishment. “Legendary figure, that guy.”
“Jack of All Trades.”
“Well, that ikran really seems to be one to me.”
“I know, right?” You stopped, and he saw that thought process, and before he could open his mouth, you blurted it out. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”
“You punk.” Jake pushed you lightly by your shoulder. “You’re pushin’ it.”
You smiled with all your teeth at him, with hands on your calves, leaning down to act cute, and Jake could pretend this was normal. That he’d fixed everything. And all was right in the world now that you were laughing with him — he’d made you smile. . 
But suddenly you looked scared, looking at something over his shoulder, shrunken pupils focusing on him and whatever it was rapidly. It kicked him awake from his delusion. He tensed, tail jumping upwards, straight as a rod. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s wrong?”
Your breath hitched, and the next thing he knew, you had pushed him away, and he was falling towards the water. The last thing he saw was only a blur of you — the bioluminescent bugs became shooting stars with a thread of glow left behind them, the whole world tilted, but he didn’t hit the water, instead, he rolled down the small slope he had to climb to reach the tree. 
Disoriented, he saw the root was almost split in half — bullet marks, a cloud of splinters and debris was flying around where he used to be sitting. 
A lone avatar just ahead. Having made it all the way to the Tree of Souls. He didn’t know where this man had come from. 
Heart picking up and roaring in his ears, all Jake could think about was, One chance. 
He hadn’t even spoken to you properly yet, hadn’t said all the things he wanted to, hadn't even gotten your word, and this man — this son of a bitch — humans had taken you once again. 
Once again. 
You will only have one chance. 
“Lucky asshole,” the man looked at him behind the barrel of the long assault rifle. “Gonna make you pay for what you pulled yesterday.”
Your ethereal smile going up in smokes at the back of his head, Jake saw red.  
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writingwithcolor · 1 year
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Thanksgiving/Day of Mourning
Last year, I made a very quick, basic post about thanksgiving: Indigenous Day of Mourning aka Thanksgiving. if you want the sources for what I’m about to say, check there.
This post will be about why you cannot just go “fuck the pilgrims, we deserve a harvest festival no matter the origin” or anything else that tries to sanitize the holiday.
You Are Still On Stolen Land
As a result, you are still actively profiting off the genocide the pilgrims committed.
I don’t care how educated about racial issues you profess you are. I don’t care how you behave the other 364 days of the year. If you try to distance yourself from the origins of Thanksgiving simply because it makes you uncomfortable to see the blood under the tablecloth, you’re not practised in sitting with actually being anti-racist. You know what to say, but you don’t practice what you preach.
You Are Eating Our Food
Pumpkins/squash, beans, turkey, cranberries, potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes, pecans, maple syrup?
Those are all Native American foods that we taught you how to grow and harvest.
You wouldn’t have any of your traditional Thanksgiving foods without us. The ideal meal of Thanksgiving is ripped right from Indigenous practices and cannot be separated from it.
The fact that these foods have been taken out of Indigenous hands and appropriated by colonizers as the bounties they somehow deserve for landing here is a tragedy, and people need to remember where their food comes from and who had been growing it for thousands of years.
You Had So Much Because Of Massacre
Thanksgiving became an annual tradition after 700 Pequot men, women, children, and elders were killed, freeing up acres of land that colonizers promptly took over. The sheer amount of extra acreage that colonizers had because of their genocide contributed to the excess of food experienced during Thanksgiving. That land had been structured to support more people originally.
Colonizers had never, ever, deserved that much food. They were taking more than they needed, not leaving much behind for the animals that depended on a balance to be held with humans. They took far more than was needed, throwing the balance off in nature.
Maybe I’m reaching. But I think that if you suddenly had 700 less people in the area, after all of the growing and planting for the total population had been done, you’d have excess food? Or even before the growing, you’d have land set up to support 700, that I’d assume you’d still use, when you were a much smaller population?
Sit With Your Own Grief
If this makes you feel bad and that you shouldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving? Sit with that.
I’m not telling you that you have to give up Thanksgiving traditions. I’m telling you that you cannot divorce them from Indigenous people.
You are giving thanks for our massacre. You are giving thanks for stealing so much from us that you had this excess.
Yes, you can need a break; yes, you can need time with family and friends. None of this is inherently bad.
It’s not even bad to eat local food from Turtle Island! Part of having a sustainable diet is eating locally, in time with the seasons.
But remember, it is Indigenous people who first gave this to you—and then you stole far more than you ever needed from us, killing us to get what you felt you deserved.
Do not divorce Thanksgiving from Indigenous people for your own comfort.
We are still here. We must live with the aftermath of colonizers stealing from us every single day.
If you feel this way hearing about our history, imagine what we feel like living it.
Donate to a local org/Indigenous person this Thanksgiving
I (again) don’t have the spoons to compile a list of vetted charities, but look for local tribe language revival programs, COVID relief funds, and activism around the Indian Child Welfare Act currently in front of the Supreme Court.
Pay reparations for what you have taken, and remember. It is also Indigenous Day of Mourning.
Indigenous people, drop your links below.
~Lesya
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Wednesday: Enid can you help me with my college application? The last school I applied to rejected me with a letter that said ‘god no, you need psychiatric help’. It’s not that I’m not flattered, but I don’t know what that has to do with my academic pursuits.
Enid: Any excuse to get in some homoerotic bestie bonding.
Wednesday: What?
Enid: Nothing. Shut up. Changing the subject. Okay, first question, sex? That’s easy—
Wednesday: Ew, no. I don’t even know what the admissions board looks like.
Enid: No they mean like biological sex… I hope.
Wednesday: Oh, female.
Enid: Yeah I know I was just reading the question. Whatever, moving on, what are your hobbies?
Wednesday: I like to go for walks in the park.
Enid: Aw, that’s sweet.
Wednesday: Scouting the area for birds nests, hoping to come across an egg or a newly hatched chick to touch and put my scent onto. So when the mother bird returns my scent causes her to abandon these birds who now view me as their true mother, due to our scent relationship.
Enid: What the actual— Wednesday that’s fucked up. You take pleasure from disrupting wildlife family dynamics? What is wrong with you?
Wednesday: It’s not for pleasure, Enid. It’s to build my militia.
Enid: Your what now?
Wednesday: Over the last few years I’ve built up a collective of give or take 600 birds who have now fully matured and view me as a maternal figure, a monarch, a supreme leader if you will. And as a result they will do whatever I wish.
Enid: That is so… fucking cool. Oh my god, wait let me write this down ‘is a bird war lord’.
Wednesday: Put down maternal figure. Say ‘maternal bird overlord’. I don’t want them thinking I’m full of myself.
Enid: More approachable, got it.
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Little Free Library
T (Language/Bullying) no upside down meet cute. Anonymous notes in borrowed books. Steddie.
Part one
Part two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Every two weeks like clockwork Steve rode his bike to the corner of Main and Second Street. In the parkway across from an adorable pastel painted lady type house was a Little Free Library painted in a similar motif as the house.
These public tiny house looking structures were placed around town in front of homes who volunteered to have them, the concept was simple: take a book, leave a book. A quaint book sharing and community building feature.
His friend group consisted of a gaggle of nerdy high school freshmen and three seniors. A band geek, his ex girlfriend and the guy she left him for, respectively. Since they were all students they adhered to school hours.
Steve, well, he was still figuring things out.
The kids and Nancy were busy leading up to spring break, Steve didn’t really seek out one on one time with Jonathan. Robin he saw on their overlapping Family Video shifts, but outside of that he was bored. Like soul-crushingly bored.
Even in the early days of Tommy and Carol and the entire sporting teams coming to his parties he had still gotten like this-
He tried to avoid the word, lonely. Sometimes in his mind he could admit that one to himself.
Just never out loud.
It made him feel fucking lame.
To the point that he had started reading…for fun. He had picked up some of his mom’s old romance novels and they were awful yet he was hooked. When he told Dustin he had gotten into reading pointedly leaving out the books he started with Dustin was supremely proud of him and suggested a few fantasy series to dive into but once Steve discovered the Little Library system he liked the chance of reading someone else’s donated books.
He knew what people in Hawkins thought of him. Aside from the kids who had the Hell Fire campaign they never shut up about along with other interests keeping them busy and his smattering of age appropriate friends he felt like he lived his day to day routine with a neon sign over his head lighting up with the glowing words, ‘peaked in high school’.
He tried not to let it bother him. He co-managed the Family Video now with Keith. It was a promotion. In a handful of weeks Robin would be working full time to save up before heading off to college come the end of the summer.
Circumstances at Scoops Ahoy had brought them together and had shook Steve out of his asshole jock phase midway through his high school career. Traumatic instances had a way of doing that to people. Being held up during a robbery and putting his wellbeing on the line to keep Robin safe bonded them for life.
His past two summers had been marked with an intense situation the one before he had rescued a tiny Will Byers from a brush with death at the quarry and subsequently adopted a gaggle of pre-teens when he was sixteen.
Bullies holding the small boy underwater and laughing until an upset and frightened El threw a magnificent punch and an actual brawl broke out with Steve overhearing the commotion, running over, and doing CPR on Will until paramedics got there. It had happened so fast he had no chance to process.
Earlier the same year Nancy declared him bullshit and the trajectory of his life changed.
To say the past two summers had changed the course of his life was an understatement. It left him still floundering to what he wanted to do or be. He just was positive he didn’t want to follow in his fathers footsteps.
He had already tried that in high school. Desperately seeking his absent parents approval. he didn’t want to just be some attitude wielding asshole only good for an empty house allowing fun parties  and a decent fuck.
Now he was nineteen, working customer service, hadn’t seen his parents in about… four months and was eyeing the book selections for his upcoming week.
Sure Steve could go to the actual library or even the cute book and gaming store the next town over that the kids were obsessed with, but he had kind of become enamored with the comments someone left in the books they donated.
He had found them tucked in the first book he had grabbed a handful of months ago, then sought them out- all lovingly tucked between the pages of the four books he had chosen from the Little Library set up. He started leaving his own notes in return.
Like he was searching for his fix from this clever and often funny mystery person. His fingers danced along the spines of his selections a lot still standing in the very same spots as they were two weeks ago. His hand paused over a new addition, The Hobbit, Dustin was going to shit himself when Steve told him about his finding.
He pulled the book out as he cracked open the spine to hopefully find what he was looking for and, a ha, it had it.
Tucked between the front cover and the first page was a pale yellow post-it note with the erratic but fully legible handwriting he’d grown to recognize over the past few months,
This is a classic, I keep my original next to my bed, but this copy needs a home: To whomever reads this welcome to a great fantasy/adventure- buckle up this is one of the best your brain will possibly ever take! Led Zeppelin thinks this shit is cool- do you think your opinion is better than Zeppelin?! I think not! But I do think the elves would be stoic but HOT.
Steve chuckled at the words as he ran his fingertips over the piece of paper and smiled to himself. He allowed himself to flip the pages and see there were about five more tucked throughout the book. Little thoughts and annotations the reader had left in his wake. Steve felt a slight rush at knowing what he had to look forward to these next two weeks.
A giddiness buzzed under his skin like the beginnings of childhood crushes and the promise of something new.
He tucked the worn copy under his arm and swung his leg over the second hand red Schwinn he had scored from a garage sale a few weeks ago. He figured with his ever constant carting of the kids and Robin saving some extra money on gas this way would help him keep building up his nest egg to finally be out from under his parents thumb.
He heard the rattle of a massive clunker of a van pass by as he tucked his own book into the newly vacated space, The Matchmakers, it had been a book from his mom’s book club and Steve had actually read it when he couldn’t stare at the TV any longer. He knew she wouldn’t even notice it gone and it deserved to find a new home in the adorable take a book leave a book set up.
It was a romance about a single mom whose kid picks out the right guy for her to date. It had been horribly cheesy, but Steve had devoured it. Even felt like Dustin kind of fit the role of meddling kid the way he always pushed Steve towards Robin. Which would never happen.
He left his own blocky lettered note on a torn out sheet of lined paper tucked between the cover and first page, Cheesy as hell but damn if I don’t find meddling brats endearing. I gotta admit the notion of someone for everyone is a little comforting too.
He felt lame leaving the notes, had an inkling his note person sought his out too and would reference them sometimes in the post-its throughout the book they’d leave behind. He felt less lame when he remembered no one would know it was him. Hell most of the town figured Steve could barely read. He wouldn’t be anyone’s first guess.
He zipped his jacket up to his throat to block some of the still cold spring chill and rode off to finish his ritual: book exchange, bike to get cheese fries at the diner, bike home, start aforementioned book and hopefully fall asleep.
He thought of his old friends away at schools and most likely partying between exams as he rode into the wind. It hit in a bittersweet spot between his ribs. He tried to shake the feeling as the sun peeked out between the clouds and kissed his cheeks with a passing warmth. The note said this would be an adventure and Steve thought he could use some of that right about now.
He couldn’t wait to tell Dustin he was finally reading The Hobbit.
Eddie’s lemon of a van death-rattled past the small intersection of Main and Second street. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating as he saw the unmistakable swoop of bronze hair and shoulders encased in a dark brown bomber jacket, Steve Harrington.
He couldn’t escape him. In fact most of his Hellfire kids wouldn’t shut up about the guy. For a moment Eddie paused, it couldn’t be him.
The books and notes he’d been leaving in the Little Library- there was no way.
The guy could buy a new book every day and never run through his parent’s reserves he scoffed to himself over the thought.
He figured he’d been exchanging words with a lonely housewife or an elderly widower or some shit, not his fucking peer. He watched from his rearview mirror as Steve biked further into town. Eddie wasn’t known for stellar impulse control so in the least graceful way his brakes screeched dramatically as he pulled a U-turn and followed along.
Steve locked his bike up outside the diner. He untucked his new to him book from under his arm and walked in, “Hey Heidi!” He said amicably to the matronly woman who often was running the whole establishment.
“Stevie, honey, you’re like clockwork. Where’s your kiddos?” She asked with a smudge of red lipstick on her front tooth.
Steve shrugged, “Can you believe they’re hard at work on some science project? Guess it’s due right before spring break.”
She walked over to his favorite booth and sat with him as he caught her up on all things kid and Robin related.
“Your parents around?” She brought up. Going for stealthy but Steve saw through it.
Steve clammed up a little, Dustin had divulged one day how his mom made Steve casseroles since he’s alone more often than not, “Uh, not at the moment, business trips.” He turned up the charm with a big smile, “I mean house all to myself? Not so bad.”
She patted his arm, “You got that right sweetie, tell me about your newest book and I’ll get your regular started?” She asked as she slid from the booth.
“You’re an angel Heidi,” Steve grinned, “ This is actually a great find! Dustin has been bitching at-“ He gave her an apologetic look, “uh, I mean hounding me to read this since I’ve known the little geek.”
The bell over the door to the diner rang as a long haired and tattooed guy Steve knew immediately as Eddie Munson waltzed in. All swinging arms and fluid movement with wavy brown hair wind tousled around his face with a fading bruise over his left eye.
Steve had always noticed Eddie Munson.
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Erik is a metaphor for the Monarchy
This season has given me so much to think about Erik and Wilhelm's idolization of Erik, and how it plays a dual role in Wilhelm's arc as a character.
I think Erik represents Wilhelm's motivation to carry forward the legacy of an institution which is slowly crumbling in its relevance (in the fictional Sweden atleast, I have no idea about the geopolitical scenario of the real-life monarchy in Sweden). Yes, Wilhelm does come from a lineage of a family relevant in history, but not only he is too young to understand that burden but he is also someone who does not feel a personal connection with that burden, unlike August(which ironically also stems from his love for his father). But he does feel that personal connection to Erik, not only because they are brothers but also Erik seems to be the only one Wilhelm can fully be vocal about his thoughts until he meets Simon. Erik is what separates Wilhelm from that burden of legacy and responsibilities.
But then Erik dies. Erik's death not necessarily represents the death of the monarchy, but it's still the death of the stability that the system thrives on. Royals want everything in control, and we can see that a lack of control runs everything berserk in that system. Erik's death is the beginning of the legacy weighing down on Wilhelm in full force, how the monarchy is just a system that thrives in perpetual succession and does not care if a spare fills the shoes of an heir unwillingly. He is expected to mould himself in the image of Erik, and the personal connection Wilhelm lacked with the Monarchy takes the shape of Erik in his mind- he believes that he is doing good to Erik's memories if he steps up as a suitable Crown Prince, but in the end, he's just catering to the system, not Erik. Even if the system is full of lies and secrets and he is forced to part ways from his authentic self.
But then he realizes that he does not want to part ways with himself, and how he stands apart as an individual when he is with Simon. Trying to get Simon back was also an attempt to reclaim his individuality, and the more he tried to gain everything back by the easiest way possible, the more he lost Simon and got pushed to the deep end. The Monarchy still loomed on the horizon, he still wanted to uphold Erik's memory by complying with the mould his mother and the Royal Court has been preparing for him. But when he gets Simon's love back, he also gets back his individuality, and how it leads to an epiphany only his free self could have made in his speech.
The illusion reigns supreme even in his relationship with Simon, because Wilhelm thought that he can be a Crown Prince and Simon's boyfriend at the same time, but the more they progressed with the burden together, it became clear that what Wilhelm wants to be is at clear odds with the system he is being prepared for.
Then the illusion shatters with August's confession. It's utterly heartbreaking that Erik and his homophobic actions put deep cracks in Wilhelm's illusion because in the end, he was still his brother. But he will forever remain scarred by the possibility that maybe Erik could have not accepted his individuality and his love for Simon. His first safe haven he found as a child, and which continued to be one when Wilhelm's grief became too painful, all shattered by a revelation he had no answers to. And suddenly all the comparisons with his older brother became a suffocating chain around his head, and he explodes in a rage of fury to his parents.
Erik was not only a literal figurehead of the institution, but he was also a phantom manifestation of the Monarchy for Wilhelm's character. The ever-present apparition of a system he does not thrive in.
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elbiotipo · 9 months
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Quick worldbuilding hack, if you want to make a coherent political system for your fantasy world:
Basically, between the fall of Rome and early modern times, in Europe* most political organization wasn't actually kingdoms ruled by One True King like it's usual in fantasy, but something like this:
Feudalism: here, the center of power was not the nation (there was little concept of such thing) or the state, and not even the King, but the landowners (from kings to dukes to counts...) and their network of vassalages to each other. There were no "countries" but rather hereditary titles, and the people who held them. There was little of a true state besides what individual rulers did; they didn't even have formal armies as such, but rather the vassals who provided them, they and could have multiple allegiances. Examples are of course the Holy Roman Empire (neither holy, etc. etc.) France (note that the 100 Years War was a dispute about titles rather than France vs. England), Spain (actually a bunch of kingdoms and crowns rather than a country), etc...
"Empires": A state where a central goverment exerts power over other territories and peoples. These are rather familiar to us, because a formal state exists here, and the ruler is more powerful and often does have a standing arming and administration instead of relying on vassals. Here, there is a bureacracy and a claim to rule a territory, and while they might have vassals and prominent artistocratic families (everyone did) their administration was state-based, not allegiance based. The Roman Empire is the most imperial empire, as well as its cringefail successor the Byzantine Empire, but note that the great Islamic empires also had this kind of administration, with governors appointed and confirmed by the imperial court.
City-States: Basically a powerful city (though they were often the size of small towns, still, very rich) ruled by a local aristocracy, sometimes hereditary, sometimes elected from a few families or guilds, or a mix of both, and in some cases ruled by religious authorities. These could be independent or organized in alliances, but were often vassals of more powerful goverments such as above. Cities are in many way the building brick of larger states; of note, in the Ancient Mediterranean before Rome conquered it all, leagues of city-states were the main powers. Medieval and Early Modern independent city states were the Italian city states of course, and a famous league was the Hansa (many of its members themselves vassals of other powers)
Tribes and Clans: Every culture is different with this, but basically here the centre of power is the relationships between families and kinship. If this sounds familiar to Feudalism, you've been paying attention; Feudalism is what happened when the Roman empire and administration fell, and it was replaced by landowners and their ties of vassalage and allegiances.
Now, besides the history lesson, why is this important? Because there are reasons why rulers had their power, and you should know that.
A king never ruled alone. He was only the head of nobles tied by vassallage (feudalism), or the head of a inherited state bureaucracy and army ("empire"). If you killed the king, another one would rise from the prominent families. Often by bloody civil wars or conquest yes, but the system overall would stay. A king did not reign by its own power or virtue, but because the system itself supported him, and of course, he maintained the system.
A new king who wants to replace the bad old king (a common fantasy storyline) needs to also deal with the allegiances of all its vassals (who would probably rather kill him and take the throne themselves) or build a bureaucracy and an army, supremely expensive endeavors in those times, which took decades if not centuries to build. In fact, the Byzantines and the Arabs inherited most of their state aparatus, in one way or the other, from the Romans.
This is also why these systems lasted so long, too. The appearance of modern republics and other systems of goverment needed the coordination of people and revolutions that did not just kill the king, but also replace it with something else, and for that you need literacy, economic changes, an empowered populace... But that's for another time.
I hope this is fucking helpful because I don't want to spell allegiance ever again.
*I would love to do more about goverments outside Europe, especially Precolombine American ones like the redistrubitionist state-based economy of the Incas, or the Mesoamerican city-states. But that's for another time.
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