#at least I was last year that was no doubt the issue and feeling powerless | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandomwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

Rewind

Rick Flag x you

Rated T

~6.5k words (I could not turn it into chapters, it didn't work out right)

Warnings: canon typical violence

I highly recommend listening to this song because it is very epic and I listened to it while I wrote the dramatic end scene.

You were a petty thief, a modern Robin Hood; you stole from the one percent to gave to the needy. And you know what? More often than not, the one percenters never even noticed. And every time you got caught you used your powers to get out of the situation. However, you knew a day was coming when you wouldn’t be able to get out of a nasty situation. A feeling of dread was filling up your nightmares and seeping into your waking life. You were filled with anxiety that your next job would be your last. Of course, it was never an issue with your powers. That is, until it became an issue.

You were doing a job in Gotham, a shitty city if you did say so yourself. Nothing like the country home you grew up in. You knew the ins and outs of the city bank. You knew the guard schedules, you knew the camera angles, you knew the passcodes, you knew which day your target would be inside. Bruce Wayne. Local billionaire who wasted his time and money hosting galas for the rich and famous. You loathed the idea of him. He wouldn’t notice a couple million getting lost in the shuffle. You knew everything that Gotham City Bank had to offer. But what you didn’t know would get you caught and sent to a metahuman prison. What you didn’t know was why you’d been feeling the dread of this job creep up on you for weeks. You had a bad feeling about it, more than the rest. So when you walked in, in disguise, you thought nothing of the exhaustion and weakness that filled your body.

You’d barely slept the night before, so it was normal. And this wasn’t a cash job, it was all wire transfers. But Wayne had to be there for the biometrics to work. Unfortunately, he knew all about your little job. He knew and he had you caught. You were confused, at first, when all you saw when you walked in was an empty bank. It was just the tellers looking at you nervously, but there was a swish behind you and you whipped around, military training coming back to you from your brief time in the army as you took a fighting stance to see… the Batman?

“The Masked Marauder,” he mocked you in his autotuned voice. You scoffed, two could play at that game. You were posing as a man today, trying to throw the trail off of yourself. You turned on your voice modulator and laughed haughtily at him.

“The Batman. Fancy seeing you here,” you were unsure as to how Batman was involved with Wayne Enterprises, but you had no doubt he was there for you.

“Feeling a little weak yet? I can see you straining,” you were on guard as he approached you, coming close enough that you could see the stubble on his chin. If you could turn him around so you were closer to the doors you could use your powers to get out of there and make a quick escape. It was easier to change your own position with your powers and not an entire scene, but you could do it if need be.

But he was onto something. You did feel weak. You were tired, your limbs heavy.

“What did you do to me?” You asked, shifting on your feet but trying to keep the charade up. You were masked and cloaked, but he had a nerve-wracking effect on you.

“It’s new technology. Power blockers at every entrance. You’re powerless inside this place,” at his words you backed up, falling weakly towards the ground as your powers were seeping out of you. You tried to use them to get out of this situation, breath shaking and palms sweaty as the seriousness of the situation dawned on you. You were well and truly screwed.

It was only moments before the GCPD came and fixed you with a power-blocking collar, chaining you up in an armored vehicle and sending you on a long trip to Louisiana. You had no next of kin to notify, no friends to take care of your apartment. You were alone.

Belle Reve was a hell of a place. You were brought in under the cover of nightfall and were only given a brief explanation of the situation. You were in a metahuman prison. You had less rights than normal humans. You were being tried for multiple robberies and the associated injuries that people had gained when fighting back against you. You’d never killed anyone, not since the army, but it didn’t matter. The crimes had stacked up. You were looking at forty years in this place.

When they threw you into the cell you were going to stay in, you were relieved to see there was only one bed and it wasn’t occupied. Solitude, at least, was your friend. You could think. You’d have thought it would be less time in prison since you hadn’t killed anybody, but it didn’t seem like it mattered. You shrugged to yourself. It’s not that you had issues killing people, you were in a special metahuman unit in the army before you became the Masked Marauder. You had a different codename then, but working with them had made you a little crazy. You had to see your close friends and colleagues treated with less respect than dirt because of their metahuman status, and you had to see most of them killed in action. You barely made it out, and you came out with a raging hard on for disrespecting authority figures.

You were only in Belle Reve for six days before you met Harley Quinn.

“Live fast, die hard, baby. You gotta do what you gotta do,” was something you heard a lot out of her smirking mouth. If you were in another life, you’d have been instantly attracted to the beautiful blonde, but you had enough crazy in you to not want any more on your plate. Despite the lack of romance between the two of you, you still got close. “As thick as thieves,” Harley would say with a wry twist to her mouth. She loved puns.

“Chronos?” You whipped your head around at the sound of your military nickname. “What the fuck are you doing here you little slut?” Your eyes widened as you recognized one of your previous teammates. Another bad egg, turned away from the army and towards a life of crime.

“Who’s Chronos?” Harley frowned next to you at the lunch table you were at, she hated not knowing things.

“That’s what they used to call me,” you whispered, standing and facing the other woman. You were small in stature, and the Amazon-like woman towered over you.

“Annie,” you knew she hated being called by her real name. She was one of the cocky ones, thinking metahumans were better than regular old humans.

“You’re wrong,” another voice called. “Chronos is a dude,” that came from Blackguard, a weirdo that you were avoiding. You avoided most people, really.

“Chronos is not a dude,” Annie growled, suddenly looking at the smaller man. “You calling me a liar?”

“I think it’s time for us to get out of here,” Harley dug her fingers into your bicep and pulled you towards the rec yard.

“What’s up with you? You normally love people watching the fights,” you wondered, concerned when Harley passed her favorite guard without saying hi. (It was Colonel Flag, the fucking hottest guard at Belle Reve who you’d definitely formed a crush on. You couldn’t help it, he was compassionate and he didn’t spit on you or throw you around or humiliate you like the other guards.)

“You didn’t tell me you had a super secret past with a cool nickname,” she whisper-shouted when you got to a bench and she could slap you on the arm.

“It didn’t come up,” you shrugged sheepishly.

“What does Chronos even mean?” She asked and you were going to explain, but Colonel Flag sat down at the bench across from you with a warm smile.

“Harley, Y/N, just the two people I wanted to talk to,” he then raised an eyebrow at the bruising grip Harley had on your arm. She let go and he frowned at the angry half moon marks her nails had left there.

“Not now, Ricky,” Harley pouted. “Y/N’s been holding out on me! She has a cool secret life and never told me about it!”

“I doubt you ever asked,” he followed up in a deadpan way and you stifled a chuckle. It was true. She could be forgetful and also unobservant. She didn’t exactly ask you about your life a lot. You thought it might be an act, she did have a PhD, after all.

“She even has a cool nickname. What does Chronos even mean?” She asked again, but side-eyed Colonel Flag when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Chronos? I thought they called you the Masked Marauder. You’re in here for theft.”

“They must not tell you all the deets,” you raised your eyebrows at the man. “Before I was a criminal I was a part of an elite army group of metahumans. But that went to shit and I’m considered a war criminal in several countries. Never got the pardon for working as a part of the US military because they wanted to keep my unit under wraps,” you frowned. You couldn’t ever leave the country because of it.

“Well you’re not going to like the proposal I have for you, then,” he looked like he was regretting coming over to you and you threw a smile on your face.

“What do you need, Colonel?” You asked, tilting your head, but Harley was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Oh! Task Force X? Is it a new mission?” She looked so excited you nearly didn’t listen to her words. But you did.

“Task Force X?” You asked him, narrowing his eyes. Maybe that’s why he was so nice to you all this time. He was buttering you up. “I don’t think so. I’m not dying today.”

“You get ten years off of your sentence for every mission you do-” You cut him off.

“You had me at ‘ten years off of your sentence.’ Say no more. I’m in,” you grinned, shark-like, at him. He had the wherewithal to not look confused at your sudden change of heart.

“It’s always fun, like weeding out the weak!” Harley exclaimed as you were ushered out of the briefing with Amanda Waller, a woman who terrified you and chilled you to your core. You felt okay though because Rick was going to be your commanding officer. It had been three weeks since your conversation with him outside in the rec area. Three weeks and your relationship had shifted just enough to make you feel safe in his capable hands. If it wasn’t the genuine human respect he gave you, or the dirty looks and reprimands he gave the guards who manhandled and mistreated you, it was the lingering fingers brushing against your back when he led you places and the warm smile he had just for you.

“Flag,” you smiled softly as you passed him on the plane.

“Chronos,” he smiled back. You knew it was commonplace to call each other by their names (Bloodsport, Blackguard, Chronos, etc), but you felt a twinge of fear. This was your first time using that codename on a real life mission since you left the army. But, when Rick came up with a fancy electronic screwdriver and unhooked your power-dampening collar, you felt such a high. You were ecstatic, your limbs felt light, you felt like you could go a million rounds against Mayweather, you wanted to fuck-

“Am I missing something? Isn’t Chronos a dude?” Blackguard asked, again, and you scowled.

“Chronos is a myth, man. This is clearly just someone with the same name, right?” Boomer nodded towards you and you gave him a tight grin. But before you could respond, Rick did.

“She’s definitely Chronos, and you better hope her powers aren’t mythical,” you grinned at that. He had your back. However, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to save them all if it all went to shit. For several reasons.

You hadn’t used your powers since arriving at Belle Reve, so you didn’t know if you were at 100%

You only had certain amount of power over large situations, so you’d likely only be able to save yourself and a few others

You didn’t care enough about these fuckers and they didn’t care about you. Your priority was to get out alive with Rick and Harley

That’s when Harley made her first appearance to the team. She was apparently good friends with Boomer and you mentally added him to your list to keep alive.

After you set off, things happened quickly for you. You made eye contact with Rick (yes, you were mentally calling him Rick now, because you wanted to fucking date the shit out of him), and made small talk with Harley as Blackguard freaked out about Weasel. But when you dropped and made your way to shore, you stuck close to Rick. He had your back and you had his.

As it turned out, Blackguard had set you all up, giving your location to the enemy and getting his face blown off for his efforts. You watched as your elite team of killers was picked off one by one. Harley had run off and you were panicking that you didn’t have an eye on her. You needed her to get out of this alive.

“Follow me!” Rick shouted, nodding his head towards his intended destination - the forest.

“But Harley and Boomer are-” you shut your mouth as Mongal’s actions finally took their toll on Boomer. But maybe you could fix it, if you could use your powers-

“No, we have to get out of here, or we’re next,” Rick grasped at your arm and dragged you into a full out sprint towards the forest, gunshots echoing behind you. You slapped his hand away once you were deep in the forest, though the sky was darkening you cut your eyes to his.

“Harley is all I have,” you spat.

“She’s my friend too, you know,” he frowned. You’d never used that tone on him before. “She can handle herself,” as much as you were loath to admit it, he was right. She was crazy but she could get out of nearly any situation. You sighed and bent over, hands on your knees as you calmed your breathing.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” you muttered, but you gasped when a sudden pain shot through your right bicep.

“That was a warning shot,” you heard a voice call out in accented English.

“A warning shot?” Rick shouted as he crossed over to you, pulling you close to him and inspecting the wound. It went straight through, but it was bleeding badly. “Warning shots are supposed to be in the ground, not at people,” he spat, considering running but you were in too much pain and losing too much blood. “Don’t use your powers in front of them,” his lips brushed against your ear and you nodded imperceptibly. You wouldn’t want to show your hand.

“Take the colonel,” a woman’s voice called and you glanced at him, wide eyed as they dragged him off of you.

“Hey, hey!” He shouted, reaching out as you fell to your knees, putting pressure on your wound. If you could stifle the bleeding until they left you alone you could use your powers to fix it.

“Leave the girl,” the voice passed by you and you stared at Rick, panicking but unable to stop them as three men held him back and dragged him away. You couldn’t help but think this was the worst case scenario. The enemy was taking your leader but you had lost too much blood to put up a fight.

As the rest of the enemies passed you, you sat back on your heels, but one of them roughly bumped into you, making you lose your grip on your arm. The blood flow was back at full force and the world turned black around the edges. You were alone. You put your left hand face up in front of you, and your right hand an inch above it face down. Your hands were parallel to each other and you tried to gather your strength to use your powers, but you couldn’t. You hadn’t used them in so long and you had lost a lot of blood. The last thought you had before you lost consciousness was of Rick’s panicking face.

You awoke to gentle hands cleaning your wound with what you assumed was water and opened your eyes when you felt a tight bandage wrapping around your arm. It was a young girl, younger than you.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she smiled softly.

“She’s awake?” A gruff voice came from behind you and you craned your neck to see a team of people behind you.

“Let’s get going then” another man said. “You patched her up, she can go on her own from here.”

“Who are you?” You asked the girl.

“We’re the Suicide Squad,” the dark skinned man growled. “Here to collect our Colonel.”

“No,” you sat up, quietly thanking the girl for patching you up. “I’m a part of the Suicide Squad,” you squinted in the early morning darkness. Was that… DuBois?

“Bloodsport?” You asked cautiously. Were these all other prisoners from Belle Reve?

“Who are you?” The guy in red and white asked you… Was that Peacemaker?

“They call me Chronos, but you might know me as the Masked Marauder,” you spoke cautiously.

“The thief? Why would they have a thief on a mission like this?” Peacemaker asked and you shrugged.

“My powers are useful for other things.”

“Chronos is a myth though, right?” A smaller man walked over to you, in a suit you didn’t recognize.

You shook your head. But that wasn’t the point, you had picked up on something DuBois had said.

“You’re looking for the Colonel?” You stood and approached the group, which apparently included a shark man.

“Yup, Colonel Flag was taken by enemies and is alive at their camp. He is our first mission,” DuBois spoke and you nodded.

“I’m coming with you. Colonel Flag helped me get out of the bloodbath at the beach. The enemy camp people shot me and took him away,” you frowned at the thought and the girl - Ratcatcher 2, she had specified - gasped.

“Why didn’t they take you, too?” She asked.

“I think they knew I wasn’t important. They noticed immediately that Flag was a military officer and took him away.” Likely to be tortured, you thought to yourself but didn’t say aloud.

“Well, let’s get going then,” Peacemaker said brightly and the group of you made your way to the enemy camp. You were lost in your thoughts on the way there. You weren’t sure whether or not you would kill anybody. Maybe hurt them or knock them out. You hadn’t killed since your time with the military. But they’d taken Rick and left you for dead. So you had very little qualms hurting them.

Turns out, it didn’t matter. Bloodsport and Peacemaker made what was almost a competition out of who could kill the most people in the sneakiest ways, but it got bloodier and bloodier as the rest of you approached the glowing tent. You heard laughter and glanced in, borrowed gun pointed in as you parted the flaps of the tent. But you immediately put your gun down. Rick was shirtless and all patched up, laughing with a woman who you’d seen the dark of the night before. You couldn’t help the rising feeling of jealousy, you’d never have that with Rick. The easy jokes, the equal ground. You were a prisoner, and you would likely die as one. But you couldn’t help the breathy “Rick,” that came out of your mouth when you realized that he was okay, and he wasn’t being tortured by enemies. He snapped his head over to you and stood.

“You’re okay,” he made his way over to you in three long strides, as if he couldn’t wait to be near you, and your heart swelled at the thought.

“So are you,” you whispered, and took a moment to look him over and let your body sag a little. You’d been so worked up that you had barely felt the pain of your wound.

“I didn’t know you were important to each other, I wouldn’t have let them shoot you,” the woman sort of apologized with a half smile and stood. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

It was then that she noticed the very silent camp, commented on it, and that’s when you looked down at your feet. Whoops, you’d let Bloodsport and Peacemaker kill an entire camp of rebels. People who were technically on your side. Waller had given you bad information.

Rick brushed a hand down your good arm and gently held you, pressing his thumb into your elbow as if making sure you were okay, that your pulse was strong.

“I was so worried,” he muttered, and you were sure only you heard it.

“So was I,” you looked up into his eyes, and if there wasn’t an audience, you would have kissed him then and there. Alas, you had another mission. Well, two. The first was to get the Thinker. The second one was to get Harley, and that was a plan you were ready for. You were down to clown, as Harley might say. As long as you had Rick by your side, you could do anything you set your minds to.

The Thinker would be frequenting one of his favorite bars, and as you left the shark dude in the bus you felt yourself relaxing a little upon entry. You knew bars. You knew how to blend in. You glanced over your shoulder, you couldn’t say the same for your teammates. So, you slinked away and found your way to the bar. The leader of the rebel camp provided you with a pair of stretchy black skinny jeans and a MCR band t-shirt. You’d fought harder battles in more confined clothing, so this wasn’t too bad.

“Una cerveza, por favor,” you spoke fluently. You grew up in the country, but your family was affluent and taught you several languages so that you could travel safely and easily.

The bartender smiled and grabbed you a bottle, and you watched the team gather around a table. They stuck out horribly, and you shook your head. Maybe with a few drinks in them they would loosen up, you watched as Peacemaker ordered drinks and nursed your own. You used to like drinking with friends, but other than Rick (and the missing Harley) you didn’t consider these people your friends. You had a tentative relationship with the Ratcatcher 2, and you were beginning to begrudgingly like Bloodsport. But, Polka-Dot Man freaked you out, Nanaue had the English understanding of a kindergartener, and Peacemaker was a dick.

“You going to join the team?” You failed to notice Rick coming over to you, and rolled your eyes, taking a sip as you mulled over your answer.

“Only if they start looking more interesting. You look like a bunch of tourists. I’d like to gather intel,” you scrunched up your nose at Rick and sipped at your beer.

“Yeah, you really look like you’re gathering intel, darlin’,” it was Rick’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sitting here, sipping on a beer and staring at us.”

You scoffed. How dare he call you out. But it was true, you were busy judging the team to actually get any good information.

“Fine, I’ll join you,” you swigged the last of your beer and glanced at the bartender. “¡Uno más!” You exclaimed, and the man smiled at you before grabbing you another ice cold bottle.

“You speak Spanish?” Rick raised an eyebrow at you.

“I speak a lot of languages,” you shrugged and took a swig of the drink before making your way to the now empty table. It seemed like your compatriots decided to go dancing. That left you with Rick.

“Oh yeah, and how did you come to know so many?” He seemed genuinely interested, though you were hesitant to talk about your past.

“My parents were diplomats and wanted me to be able to travel with them, so they had me learn Spanish, French, German, and Russian by the best tutors money could offer,” you shrugged, sort of stilted, at his curious glance.

“And I thought you were a thief because you were poor,” he shook his head with a smile. “Waller has very little info on you so I wasn’t sure.”

“My parents were cruel, and utilized their money to help bad people get into power,” you looked down at your lap. “I resent the things they taught me. And I tried my best to right the wrongs that people like them did.”

Rick sobered up and placed a hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he frowned and brushed his thumb over your skin. “I knew a little bit about your thievery and who you robbed and why, but it makes sense now. You were trying to help. I get it,” he sighed and took a sip of his drink while you downed yours. You hated talking about your family. You wanted to move on to something else. Anything else.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” you sighed, brushing your hair out of your face and looking up into those beautiful eyes.

“What would you like to talk about then?” he whispered, not willing to break the reverie you were in. You were close, closer than you should be.

“I want to talk about you, Colonel,” you smirked and placed a delicate hand on his thigh. He dragged his eyes from that hand slowly up to your face.

“What do you wanna know, beautiful?” He smirked and blinked those pretty eyes at you. You’d both had too much to drink. It was a little scary making the first move, but you found him incredibly attractive and you were 99% sure he returned your feelings.

“I want to know,” you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “What those lips would feel like against mine,” you wondered aloud, and his sharp inhale was all you had to go on before a gentle hand was turning your face to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative even, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted everything that Rick Flag could give you and you tightened your grip on his thigh, hoping to convey your thoughts, when everything went to shit. Peacemaker jerked Rick away from you and Cleo pulled you towards a darkened corner of the room.

“They’re asking for IDs,” she hissed, pulling you towards where you saw Abner had the Thinker.

“But what about-” she shushed you as you glanced back, making strained eye contact with Rick. Maybe you could use your powers to get out of this. But… You looked at the Thinker. This was the mission. You looked back at Rick. Would you get your brains blown out to save him?

You made your way to the exit, finding your way to the van and getting out of there. You were only vaguely paying attention while you were in pursuit of the truck holding your … friends? You panicked for a moment when it crashed, and when you pulled to a stop you sprinted out of the van and over to the fiery wreckage, thoughts racing about what could have happened to Rick when he, Bloodsport, and Peacemaker burst through the doors like some sort of boy band.

You couldn’t care less though as you threw yourself into his surprised arms and pressed your lips to his.

“That was stressful and I didn’t like it,” you muttered against his lips, barely noticing Bloodsport rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rick smiled and pulled away to look down at you. “This is pretty nice.”

You scoffed and grabbed at his hand, not willing to let go just yet, and dragged him to your vehicle.

“Shut it,” you muttered as you all gathered. All he responded with was a light chuckle.

Your next mission was saving Harley, but as it turned out, she was no damsel. You were on your way into the place she was being held when she walked down the street towards you.

“Hey, guys! Whatcha doin?” She was smiling brightly and you rolled your eyes at the situation before hugging her.

“We’re here to save you, obviously,” you muttered and she looked from you over your shoulder to Rick.

“You came back for me?” She whispered and Rick came over to you, Bloodsport rolling his eyes in the background.

“Yeah, it was a really good plan, too,” Rick muttered, but still hugged back when Harley threw herself into his arms.

“Well I can go back in and let you save me,” she offered and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not necessary, Harley. Now that we have you we can get back to the mission,” you patted her on the back and nodded to the rest of your team.

Now, you could say that you acted heroically and saved the day, but you and your ragtag team… You were amateur heroes. It was a shitshow. You were setting up explosives with Nanaue when you had that bad feeling again. The one you had when you were going into that bank in Gotham. Maybe it was your intuition, but you knew some shit was about to go down.

“Keep at it!” You shouted at the King Shark and raced your way down the stairs to where Peacemaker and Rick were headed. If you remembered their part of the plan correctly, they were with the Thinker, but something went wrong when you were about halfway down.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you heard a great BOOM. They’d set off the explosives too early. Maybe you should have stayed… You looked up at the dust coming down from above. Your brain was telling you to get out before the building collapsed on you, but your gut was telling you to make it to Rick.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you chanted as you raced down the stairwell, crumbling concrete raining down as you danced around to avoid it. Your stomach cramped in warning, and you crouched into a ball as the floor beneath you gave out and you fell several floors. When your falling came to a halt you took stock. There was rubble above you, but not crushing you. Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced as you clawed your way towards the fluorescent lighting. You grunted and groaned as your fingernails cracked and your fingers bloodied, but you were not about to die here.

You crawled out into the open and peered through the dark, dusty hallway. You didn’t see anybody, but you heard a scuffle and made your way towards the grunting and smashing sounds. The alarm bells started going off in your brain again, and you started running. Your feet pounded against the jagged edges of concrete on the ground but you didn’t stop. You whipped your pistol out when you came to the source of the sounds, but you froze.

Your eyes took in the scene very quickly, and you knew there was a decision to be made. You saw Cleo’s figure in the dark corner, eyes shining in the dusty haze. The others hadn’t seen her yet. At first glance, Rick was atop Peacemaker, and your initial thought was that he was winning this fight. But his eyes, wide and shocked, locked onto yours for merely a moment before he collapsed forward, a dead weight, and all of your breath left your body.

You also saw Peacemaker’s eyes shoot to a computer chip that had scattered across the floor right before you came in. Right before they shot over to you.

But you knew this: Peacemaker didn’t know who you were. He had no clue what you were capable of. He roughly pushed Rick’s body off of himself, but you were faster.

You put your hands in front of you, parallel to each other, and green mist started swirling around between them. You hadn’t had to use your powers to alter a scene this big or intense before, usually just using them on your own body, but you could do this. For Rick.

Suddenly everything slowed down, Peacemaker was still lying on the ground, Rick was face-first in the rubble, and Cleo was crouched in the dark, hand reaching out to the chip.

But you were alive as your powers raced through you. You had seen yourself in a mirror once as you used your powers, and you could imagine how you looked to them. Glowing green veins covered your skin as you altered the fabric of the universe itself. A wind picked up in the room, swirling in tandem with the green mist in your hands. You only needed a few moments. You didn’t need to go back and stop the fight, you just had to stop Peacemaker. You contorted your fingers and molded the green mist to your liking before throwing your arms wide, the green mist expanding to encapsulate yourself and the two men. You didn’t need to include Cleo, she wasn’t involved. The wind whipped around, the green mist blinding everyone but you, and things started to go into motion.

It would all happen very quickly for everyone involved. Just a rewind. But for you, you had to painstakingly watch as Rick’s body rose above Peacemaker, and you had to watch as the ceramic in his heart was drawn out. You had handcrafted this reality and you were forced to watch as your handiwork took place. But you had gotten to the moment you needed. They were near the end of the fight, Peacemaker had slammed Rick into a wall, and with a wave of your hand, the mist disappeared and everything was clear.

“Wait, what?” Peacemaker shot his eyes over to you, but he was too slow in his understanding. You had already whipped your pistol out of its holster and shot him twice in the throat. He grasped at his, trying to stifle the bleeding and crumpling to the ground, but your eyes were focused on Rick. A very shocked, but very alive Rick.

“What did you do?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if that was disgust or wonder in his voice, so you turned, walked slowly over to Cleo (who had witnessed the whole thing through a haze of green), and picked up the chip.

“I believe you were looking for this?” You asked, holding it out in front of yourself to him. He gulped, walking over to you, but your strength was draining from with a display of your powers. When he pulled the chip out of your hand and tucked it into your utility belt, you wavered, edges of your vision darkening as you slowly knelt to the ground.

“What are you doing, we need to get out of here?” Cleo shouted at you, but you waved her off.

“I just need to sit for a moment,” but your voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“No you don’t,” Rick hauled you up by your armpits and lifted you into his arms, princess-style. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered and followed Cleo out of the rubble and into the daylight. You squinted, the bright sun blinding you after being underground for so long.

“Shit,” you muttered, shoving your face into Rick’s neck to avoid the light.

“So,” he sounded very casual and you tensed up. “I really thought you weren’t going to use your rewind powers at all, what happened to make you use them?” You bit your lip, not sure what to say.

“Peacemaker killed you,” Cleo answered for you and Rick stopped walking. You winced and looked up at his face.

“I panicked,” you whispered, not sure how he was going to react. But when he turned his head to face you, it was as if he was looking at you for the first time.

“You saved my life?” He asked and it was your turn to gulp.

Okay, so maybe you had feelings for Rick. You knew that. He was a hot piece of ass, and he was kind, and he respected you. And you kissed at the bar and after the van chase. So he definitely knew you liked him. But did he know your feelings were deep enough to save his life and endanger your own in the process? Well… Now he did.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to lose you to that prick,” you tried to shrug it off, but Rick gently let your legs fall and your feet touch the ground. You weren’t sure what was happening until he reached out and pulled you into the warmest, most all-encompassing hug you had ever experienced.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, and you let yourself sigh and sink into the hug.

“Yeah well now you owe me one,” you muttered jokingly, trying to slightly ease the seriousness of the situation. He squeezed you tightly once more before pulling away and smirking.

“Anything you want, you can have,” he smiled that sunlight-bright smile at you and you blinked at him once before returning his smile.

“You can take me on a date once I’m out of prison, how does that sound?” You asked and his smile widened.

“I can do that.”

“That might be a lot sooner than you think,” Bloodsport had walked over to you and (you assumed) Cleo had explained everything to him. You blinked.

What did he mean by that?

Apparently he meant he was going to threaten Waller and keep the information hostage. It wasn’t exactly what Rick wanted, but he got out with his life, and you didn’t have to go back to prison. You were thinking about it as you settled into your new apartment, only two weeks after fighting Starro and killing Peacemaker, your first kill in years.

You were sitting on your comfy couch watching reruns of Adventure Time when Rick called you.

“Hey,” you answered warmly, and smiled at his voice when he responded.

“Hey, yourself. What’s up?” You drew a blanket over your lap and muted the TV.

“Just relaxing. What’s up with you?”

“I was thinking, how about I take you on that date tonight? I’ll pick you up at seven?” If your instincts were correct, and they usually were, he was nervous about it. He was unsure you would actually want him, considering how sheltered and uneven your relationship had been before. You were quick to dispel that.

“That sounds lovely, Rick,” you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation when he hung up a few minutes later. You also couldn’t help the excited squeal you let out and the little dance you did. Things were finally falling into place.

#rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag dc #rick flag x you #rick flag x reader #dceu #rick flag #harley quinn #peacemaker #ratcatcher 2 #starro #polka dot man #nanaue #king shark #bloodsport

63 notes · View notes

hellowkatey · 3 years

Text

Febuwhump Day 17

Prompt: truth serum (alternate prompt 1)

Read on AO3

Unpleasant Truths

Anakin opens his mouth to say something but is immediately interrupted.

"Nope," Obi-Wan says with a swift shake of the head that makes a tendril of hair fall into his face. "Not a word, Anakin."

"Oh come on, Master."

"Not. A. Word."

"Do we have anything better to do?"

"Well, no," Obi-Wan says, and then cringes. Anakin has a feeling that wasn't the answer he wanted to give.

Anakin and Obi-Wan sit in adjacent beds of the med bay aboard The Resolute. There was only one private exam room left for them to take up, so they opted to share. While they aren't particularly hurt-- no more than any usual battle-- they were captured and exposed to a particularly potent truth serum. Nobody is really sure what to do with them. Least of all, one another. Anakin supposes his former master figured the lesser evil was to lock them in a room together-- no secrets accidentally being revealed to those without clearance.

However, they don't know how long this serum is supposed to last. They're waiting for Kix to come back with bloodwork.

"How will we know when it's worn off if we don't ask questions?" Anakin suggests. Obi-Wan doesn't look in the least bit amused.

"Because I know you. You're going to ask about things that amuse you or that you want to be nosy about," he raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that right?"

The knight swallows hard, the truth on the tip of his tongue. Of course, he is powerless in preventing it from slipping.

"Yes," he mutters.

"So no talking. We will wait for labs."

"You're no fun," Anakin lays back on the bed and points over at him. "And you know I'm telling the truth about that."

They sit in the prescribed silence for an hour or so before the door opens and Kix comes strolling in with a datapad and a set of IVs.

"Hello generals, how are we doing?"

"Not ideal," Obi-Wan says.

"Bored," Anakin chimes in. Kix looks a tad caught off guard-- maybe not used to them answering so truthfully about their condition. His brown eyes flicker between them before he decides to just give them the report.

"So the good news is the serum appears to be non-lethal. We just have to wait for it to filter out of your systems."

"I assume there is bad news then?" Obi-Wan asks.

"Well... the problem is, it embeds itself into the brain and spinal fluid. I have no way of knowing how long it will be in effect without doing an unnecessarily invasive procedure."

"Well that's..." Obi-Wan trails off, glancing at Anakin. "disappointing."

"Do you have a guess on how long, Kix?"

He seems to wager this in his head. "Six hours? More or less."

Great. There goes my afternoon.

Kix excuses himself, promises to return if they learn anymore. As soon as he's out the door, Obi-Wan lays back, letting his head fall against the pillow, and lets out an exacerbated sigh. Anakin can feel him in the beginnings of meditation, the Force around them drawing into his presence and making it shine like a beacon. And then it releases, and Obi-Wan groans again.

"What's wrong?"

"This blasted drug is muddying up the Force. I can't concentrate."

"Oh no, you might have to spend the next six hours actually conscious," Anakin rolls his eyes.

"Meditating passes the time."

"Talking passes the time."

"Anakin," he sighs.

"Oh yes, what a tragedy to spend time with me."

The Jedi Master looks at him now, his eyebrows knit together. "I like spending time with you, Anakin. Do you think I don't?"

"Well... yeah."

"What could make you think that?"

He bites on his tongue, knowing fully well it won't help a thing. "You... dismiss me. Or seem annoyed by me. Or... I don't know... treat me like I'm still a little kid."

The truth falls heavy between them, and suddenly Anakin wishes they'd stuck to the code of silence. Obi-Wan's face shifts into something that he can only categorize as devastation. Even though it's true that he feels that sometimes his master wants nothing to do with him, he never wanted him to know that.

"Anakin... I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes trained intensely on him. "I didn't realize..."

"Obi-Wan, don't apologize. I guess... I wanted what you and Qui-Gon had." He remembers fondly the brief memories of a young padawan Obi-Wan and his master. The little looks they had that meant more than they seemed. The inside jokes and synergy when they fought alongside one another. Anakin thinks he and Obi-Wan have some of that. They are two parts of a deadly machine on the battlefield, and they share their own little jokes but sometimes there's just this disconnect. Like he trusts him with his life, but not with the secret of his wife. He doesn't think it's supposed to be this way.

But surprisingly, Obi-Wan stiffens at his comment. Anakin wonders if the serum also makes his body language more readable because he's never seen his master so expressive. "What Qui-Gon and I... Anakin when you told me you thought I didn't like spending time with you, it made me worried that I had grown to be too much like Qui-Gon."

"What do you mean?"

He stares off into space a moment. Obviously fighting against the serum, which only makes Anakin more worried about his answer. Never has he ever heard a bad word about Master Jinn, so he isn't sure what it could have been.

"Qui-Gon and I... had a rocky relationship. He didn't want another padawan, but Yoda was quite insistent. He took me, it was a long time before he accepted me."

"Then... how did you become his padawan?"

"I... well to make a long story short I was willing to detonate a bomb that would kill me but save the agricorps settlement, and I suppose he took that as reassurance I wouldn't let him down," Obi-Wan presses his lips together. "Too bad he was wrong about that."

Now Anakin is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his master with confusion. "What do you mean he was wrong?"

"Well, I did leave the order shortly after, which thoroughly shattered his expectations."

"Wait, what?" There is just... so much to unpack in the few things he just revealed. But Obi-Wan looks at him with a face that pleas him to stop. So Anakin relaxes, holding in the urge to ask more questions. "Will you tell me about this when we aren't under truth serum?"

"Yes," he answers. Definitively. Without hesitation. So Anakin nods and sits back on the bed, his head still whirring with questions.

"Can I... ask why you felt Qui-Gon didn't like you? I always thought-- I don't know, that you guys were a team."

He crosses his arms over his chest, focusing on an invisible spot on the ceiling. "We had different ideas of how to do things. That's why Yoda wanted us together. I was an angry and headstrong youngling, and he was a rebel the council needed to find a way to reel in."

Anakin scoffs. "You? Angry?"

A small smile appears on his face. "I packed a nasty right hook in my initiate days. So when I was faced with a Master who disregarded the rules, I assumed the role of the logical rule follower."

"And then you never gave up that role."

"I had punk for a padawan, what else was I to do?"

Anakin looks down at his lap, a small smile on his face.

"Is this why you don't talk about your padawan years very often?"

"The memory of Qui-Gon is... painful. As are many of the experiences I had as a child," he winces.

Well, this is depressing, Anakin thinks, wishing he could ask more but he knows it would be wrong to do so. The mystery of Obi-Wan's past has suddenly been blown right open and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. Left the order? Denied by Qui-Gon? In his head, he had this image of his tiny master, fresh-faced and spouting off Jedi Code at every chance.

"Why does nobody ever talk about that stuff?" Anakin asks, wondering how he's gone over a decade as a Jedi without hearing a word about his master's unusual apprenticeship.

"It wasn't widely known. The council and a few others," Obi-wan stares at him, sadness in his eyes. "But there is no honor in tainting the reputation of the dead."

"But you..." Anakin lets out a shaky breath. "I talked about him all the time. And you never told me?"

"Qui-Gon... was your hero. He saved you, and I- I didn't want that to change for you," he pauses, his face paler now. "Anakin, he wasn't a bad man. He was great Jedi, deeply caring for others and a fantastic master-- I have no doubt had he lived, you two would have made a powerful... and troublesome pair."

Anakin isn't sure what to say about it. He is ashamed of the number of times he was mad at his master and wished a different reality for himself. He doesn't even know the entire extent of whatever Obi-Wan is referring to, but somehow he just... knows.

He's heard rumors before. The story of the Jedi Master who gave up his padawan to train a new initiate he thought was promising. The padawans considered it a horror story to tell when they snuck out of their rooms at night to walk the darkened halls. It took Anakin longer than he's willing to admit to realize the story was about him and Master Jinn's dismissal of Obi-Wan. The way Anakin remembered it was he declared Obi-Wan ready to be a knight and that he would then be free to take Anakin.

Apparently, that wasn't the case. He didn't understand the gravity of the gesture then, and never really thought about it too hard after.

But now... now he thinks about that story again-- that apparently Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had issues in the past-- and maybe there was a lot more there than he even knows.

"When this is over, will you tell me everything, Master?"

"No," he says. No hesitation or waver in his voice.

"No?"

"There are some things I can't tell you."

"But why?"

To Anakin's surprise, he chuckles. "I am allowed my secrets, just as you are allowed yours."

This, of course, sends Anakin into a bit of internal panic. Is he just assuming I also have secrets or... does he know?

"I guess... that's fair."

"When this is over we will rest, and then I will tell you some things about my apprenticeship. And you may ask whatever questions you have then."

He supposes that's good enough. The nice thing about truth serum is he knows Obi-Wan isn't making empty promises. They leave things there for a while, Anakin falling asleep for a bit, and when he awakes, it's Obi-Wan who is surprisingly dozing off. Five hours pass. Anakin has moved to the end of Obi-Wan's bed to lay diagonally across it on his stomach, and Obi-Wan sits cross-legged against the headboard.

"Have you ever been in love, Master?" Anakin asks, looking up expecting a slap to the back of the head for such a question, but instead Obi-Wan smiles a little bit.

"Would it surprise you if I said yes?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it is."

Anakin blinks. He had his suspicions, but to hear it aloud...

"The Duchess?"

"Yes."

"And others?"

"A few."

"A few?"

He chuckles.

"To love is not prohibited, it is to put such love ahead of one's duty."

He's never thought about it like that.

"Have you been in love, Anakin?"

"Yes," he says. I'm in love, he thinks to himself.

Obi-Wan hesitates a moment, looking down at him with uncertainty that Anakin thinks he knows the source of. He supposes it's only fair, he's dug into his past relentlessly the past few hours but... his wife isn't just his past, she's his present. His future. Though a part of him wants to tell Obi-Wan about her more than anything, a part of him also knows that his knowing will put him in a horrible position with the council. The secret will undoubtedly come out, and he will be expelled from the Order or be forced to give her up. And nothing can make him give Padmé up.

"Padmé?"

Anakin looks at him. The neutrality of his face just makes him more nervous. He looks his former master dead in the eye.

"Padmé and I... are only close friends, Master."

Obi-Wan nods. Anakin hides his stress by burying his face in the comforter.

Well... looks like the serum has worn off.

Anakin decides to wait another half an hour before he lets Obi-Wan know that, though. Just to be safe.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday17 #truth serum #oh look im catching up #or trying #anakin and obi-wan try to talk about things

78 notes · View notes

obeyme-kaidii-writes · 3 years

Note

Alright, this combination spoke to me. I personally am struggling to pick between Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, and Diavolo as my favorite, I love all of them. So Poly with the four, but with the angst prompt of "I don't know how much longer I can endure this." in response to the tortures of not being able to choose. Up to interpretation, but this resonated with me.

I may have gotten a teensy tiny bit carried away with this one. But I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy it too!

Complicated

Diavolo / Lucifer / Satan / Beel x poly gn!MC

Words - 5330

Content warnings - some angst, lots of comfort and fluff, polyamorous relationship w/MC (no demon x demon relationships)

Prompt/Inspiration - anon request, “I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.”

Summary - You had managed to fall in love with not one, not two, but FOUR demons - and now you had to figure out what came next.

AO3

Complicated.

There really wasn’t another way to describe the current state of your life.

Beel was the first one to really take an interest in you. A genuine interest. You fell in love hard and fast. Perhaps it was the guilt over not being able to reveal what you knew about Belphegor’s situation, but you didn’t feel comfortable making your feelings for him known. It just seemed like something that would burden him, and you really didn’t want to risk losing the one friend you felt the most safe with while you were all alone in this new realm.

As your year progressed, the situation with Belphegor was finally resolved. But still, you hesitated to say anything. You knew how close he was to Belphie, and you convinced yourself that it would be best if you didn’t do anything that would come between them. It was obvious even to your own heart that you were just making excuses for yourself, too scared to take a step forward.

It was then you started growing closer to Lucifer. Your initial relationship with him had been...strained...to say the least. But after he realized the lengths you were willing to go to in order to help his brothers, he couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You had an inner strength that he honestly admired, though he would probably never admit that to you. And he enjoyed your company immensely, even if it was just having you nearby while he worked. Everything just seemed easier with you around, even Mammon’s shenanigans didn’t stress him out quite like they used to anymore. And you enjoyed his company as well - he was a source of stability for you in the chaos of the House of Lamentation. You would often take refuge in his study with him to recharge after a day of playing referee for the other overgrown children you had as housemates.

You had also managed to catch Satan’s eye, particularly after the whole dating sim fiasco with Levi. He liked the fact that you saw him as an individual - you never compared him to Lucifer, nor did you ever try to force the issue about them getting along. You just let Satan be...Satan. And he loved spending time with you reading together. It was like the two of you had your own private book club; he was always ready with a book recommendation for you.

It was Satan that had actually approached you first about the possibility of being in a relationship. You were surprised to hear that he had had such a strong interest in you, since he was always so reserved most of the time. Your initial reaction was of course to want to say yes, but the fact that Beel, and Lucifer especially, still held pieces of your heart made you feel incredibly guilty. You didn’t even have to ask to know that Lucifer was the absolute last person he’d ever be ok with sharing your affections with, even if you could get him to consider a polyamorous relationship.

So, you instead asked Satan for time. And he agreed to give you some space to think things over. You knew it was unfair to him to expect him to wait...but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him “no”. You didn’t want to tell him “no”, after all. It was just the only option you felt was available to you.

Hoping to avoid Satan, and delay the inevitable, you started spending more time with Barbatos at the Demon Lord’s Castle. He taught you all about Devildom teas, and showed you how to bake some of Diavolo’s favorite treats. And Diavolo was more than happy to sample everything you tried your hand at preparing.

At some point, you had just started dropping by even when Barbatos was busy, just to chat with Diavolo and he was always glad to see you. He’d ask you about your life in the human realm, and you’d ask him about life in the Devildom. You probably learned more about Devildom history and lore from these conversations than you ever did in class at RAD; and you eagerly soaked it all up, hanging on Diavolo’s every word, absolutely enchanted with his storytelling ability and his life experiences that spanned several millennia.

Unlike with Beel, or even Lucifer, you didn’t realize when you had started falling for Diavolo, or Dia as he asked you to call him now. One day you had just tried to stop by, only to learn that he was still stuck at RAD, working with Lucifer. And you were absolutely devastated. It shocked you honestly at just how upset you had gotten over the loss of one simple visit. But as soon as you felt that familiar ache in your heart you knew exactly what was going on.

It was the same thing that you had been trying to avoid dealing with with Lucifer and his brothers. And you had somehow managed to get tangled up in again. Only this time things were far more complicated than family relationships between brothers. There was just no way you’d be allowed to enter into a relationship with Lord Diavolo, crown prince of the Devildom. That is if he was even interested in you in that way, which you highly doubted. Why would he be? You were just a simple human. You didn’t have any great experience or insight to offer, your education wasn’t even that exemplary. There was nothing about you that you felt entitled you to ever expect to be more than just friends with the Prince, and you were lucky he even humored your attempts at friendship.

You weren’t sure how, but you did manage to make it home that afternoon and crawled into bed. The tears just started on their own, and you were powerless to stop them. You had fought them off for far too long at this point, your body simply decided it had enough repressing those emotions and they all came pouring out. How much longer would you be able to endure this? You honestly didn’t think there was much more your heart could take, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

————

When Beel dropped by to remind you of dinner, you pretended to sleep and choked back your sobs until he went away. When Lucifer stopped by to check on you, you told him you were busy with schoolwork. And when Satan asked if you would like to come over to his room to read, you said you weren’t feeling well.

You thought you had managed to throw everyone off the scent. But when Diavolo popped in to apologize for not being there when you had tried to visit him earlier, everything quickly started to unravel.

You opened your bedroom door, completely shocked to see Dia and Lucifer on the other side. He had never come by before just to see you. Maybe a few times to check on Lucifer, but he usually would send Barbatos to run any important errands or to issue any invitations. Seeing him before you now, you immediately became aware of how awful you must have looked. Your eyes still red, your hair a mess, your uniform all disheveled since you hadn’t bothered to change when you got home.

As you stood there, opening and closing your mouth, struggling to string together a single coherent thought, the unthinkable happened - Beel walked by on his way to the kitchen, Satan not far behind him, and they both turned to look your way as they walked past your door. Your eyes flicked from Beel to Satan to Lucifer to Dia and you instinctively tried to slam your door shut to escape, but Lucifer caught it before you could.

“Is there something the matter?” he asked.

And of course, once again, your body decided it had just had enough of containing your repressed emotions and let your tears flow freely. This was it, you thought. You were going to be forced to face what you had been trying to avoid and that would just be the end of it all. Since you had refused to make a choice on your own, your choice was about to be made for you and you were going to end up with absolutely nothing as a result.

—————

It took awhile for you to calm down. Beel was sitting next to you on the edge of your bed with his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. Satan was standing nearby, holding a glass of water for you. You thanked him quietly for his thoughtfulness, and slowly sipped the chilled water, trying to buy yourself some time before you would start being forced to answer questions. And Lucifer and Dia were sitting across from you in two plush, wingback chairs that they had dragged away from the wall.

Everyone silently waiting for you.

“I’m...sorry…” you finally mumbled out. Beel gave you a reassuring squeeze, and Satan sat down beside you, taking your free hand. What you wouldn’t have given to be able to freeze time and just continue living in that perfect little moment surrounded by your favorite demons. But this was reality. And it was about time you faced that.

“It’s ok, but what are you apologizing for?” Satan asked.

“I umm…” your lip started trembling and you took a deep breath to try to calm yourself. There wasn’t any way to run from this, not this time.

“Take your time,” Beel reassured you, rubbing your arm.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you guys, especially you Satan. I know that wasn’t fair.” You felt him tense up beside you, no doubt expecting the reason for your avoidance to have been due to the fact you were planning on rejecting him. But he didn’t let go of your hand either, which only made you feel more guilty.

“It’s just...I can’t...I can’t choose…” you started to fidget nervously in your seat.

Lucifer seemed to have caught on quicker than the rest, “You mean to say you have feelings for more than one of us?” You meekly nodded, keeping your head down and your eyes glued to the floor. You had absolutely no desire to see the expressions on everyone’s faces as they exchanged looks with one another.

By this point Dia was getting a bit uncomfortable. This didn’t seem like the sort of conversation he should be part of - it was between Lucifer and his brothers after all. Even though he treasured you greatly, he had never made those feelings known to you nor had you ever expressed more than friendly interest in him, so it didn’t even occur to him that he might also be involved.

“I think I’ll go ahead and head out so…”

“No..!” you called out, looking Dia right in the eye, desperate for him to stay. You were surprised at your own reaction, but you couldn’t let him leave without knowing how you felt. The only thing that would hurt worse than him knowing your feelings and rejecting you, was if he thought you didn’t care for him at all and preferred someone else to him. And you couldn’t let that happen. You at least wanted a chance to keep him as your friend.

“I...ummm…you’re part of...this…” you mumbled out as your eyes fell to the ground again.

Diavolo was caught completely off guard with your confession, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. As was Lucifer, who for the most part had been unaware that you had been spending enough time with the Prince to have any sort of relationship.

The silence that followed was killing you. It felt so oppressive. All you could do was wait for someone else to decide to speak. You couldn’t understand why Beel was still holding you so gently, or why Satan hadn’t moved from his spot next to you, your hand still wrapped in his. It was only a matter of time, you thought, before they’d all leave one by one and you’d find yourself alone. Part of you wanted them to hurry up and go so you could wallow in your own self pity, because the other part of you wanted them all to stay and tell you how much they all loved you, and you knew that was never going to happen.

“Can I speak with them? Alone?”

“Lord Diavolo…” Lucifer had started to object, but quickly stopped himself. He could use this time to talk to Satan and Beel, and it seemed they had a lot to talk about, “Alright, we will be in my study. Let us know when you’re finished.”

Satan, who had been staring at you this whole time, glared at Lucifer for assuming he’d just go along with his suggestion. But even he could see the tender look in his eyes as he gazed at you. There was no doubt Lucifer cared for you immensely, and seeing as this was for your benefit, Satan decided to comply, giving your hand one final squeeze before making his way out of your room.

Beel was having a more difficult time letting you go. He could practically feel how upset you were, and didn’t want to leave you alone. But after looking at Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he finally accepted that it would be alright to leave you be for just a few moments. So, giving you one last hug and a kiss to the top of your head, he followed after Satan, with Lucifer not far behind.

Now alone with you, Dia dragged his chair closer to your bed so that he was sitting right in front of you, knees nearly touching. He took the now empty glass from you and set it down on the bedside table before taking both of your hands in his own.

“This has been bothering you for some time, hasn’t it?”

“...yeah…”

“Is this why you started spending so much time at the castle?”

“Sorta. I asked Barbatos to help me learn more about Devildom baking so I could avoid everyone else,” you gave a self deprecating laugh, “But then I started spending time with you….and...well then that started to be the reason I came…”

“So you really enjoyed our time together?”

“Of course!” you replied, raising your head to meet Diavolo’s gaze. He was much closer than you were expecting, and you flushed in embarrassment. He chuckled at your reaction. You were just so cute when you got flustered, he had a hard time resisting the urge to tease you, but he’d have to save that for later.

“Then why were you so upset?”

“Because...I...realized it didn’t matter.”

“Didn’t matter? Why would you think that?”

“Because...I’m...I'm just me. A simple human. And you’re you. And I should just be happy you even put up with me or talk to me at all. And even if I told you how I felt, it wouldn’t change how I feel about them and it just didn’t seem fair to have to choose, not after Satan already confessed to me. And I know Lucifer hasn’t said anything yet, but I can tell the way he looks at me. And there is no way Satan would ever be ok with me having any sort of relationship with Lucifer. And Beel is like my best friend and I’m sure if I say anything it would just upset Belphie and I don’t want to hurt him or make Beel think he has to choose…”

You snapped your mouth shut, realizing what you had just done. You had just unloaded everything, all the secrets and worries that had plagued your heart for the past several months, you had shared it all. To say you were mortified right now would be an understatement. You truly wished the ground would just swallow you up. You’d wish for death if you thought it would make a difference, but with your luck you’d just end up right back in the Devildom.

“So what I’m hearing is you’re too busy worrying about how everyone else feels to worry about yourself?”

You nodded your head, averting your eyes.

“What do you want then?”

“...it’s selfish…”

“Then be selfish. We’re demons after all.”

“Wha…?” you looked up at Dia again and he was gazing at you softly, a small smile on his lips as he encouraged you. Was it really ok for you to just ask for that ? Would they really not hate you if you did? It didn’t seem possible for you to get everything you’d want, how could you be that lucky? Surely if you said anything, then you’d lose everything, right?

At least that’s what your human conscience was telling you.

But here sat Lord Diavolo, future king of the Devildom, telling you that it was ok to ask for whatever you wanted, in a way that suggested you just might be granted it. And you wanted so badly to believe that that would be true.

“Go on, love, tell me what you want to do.”

————

Lucifer took a seat at his desk, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. Finding out that you had a close relationship with Diavolo had come as a huge surprise. He had suspected that Satan had taken a liking to you, and he wasn’t at all surprised to discover that Beel was fond of you as well. But Diavolo? He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“I assume you wanted to talk to us. So what is it?” asked Satan. He was agitated. He didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone with Lord Diavolo, especially not after it seemed that you may actually reciprocate his own feelings. But since, it appeared, he wasn’t the only one in your heart, he had to put your best interest first. And in this case that included letting you speak with Lord Diavolo while he discussed things with his brothers.

“Obviously.”

“Well?”

“First, I want to hear what your thoughts are on this matter. It’s clear that Satan has feelings for them, but what about you Beel? You’ve been quiet this whole time.”

Satan and Lucifer both turned to look at Beel who was seated in one of the large chairs near the fireplace. He raised his head to look at his brothers, before sighing and sitting back in his seat. He knew how much they cared for you. He had even started to realize when Lord Diavolo had begun to take an interest in you as even his casual interactions became more friendly. And he had decided that he was going to keep his own feelings to himself, not wanting to interfere in his brothers’ happiness. Never once had it occurred to him that he may have been causing you to suffer as a result.

“I love them,” he replied, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Of course he loved you. How could he not? You were just so bright in his eyes, and you brought so much hope with you. When you had told him that you wanted to help Lucifer and Belphie makeup when you had first arrived, he didn’t doubt you for a second. Even though he barely knew you at the time, he just had this feeling you’d make it happen. And the closer the two of you grew, the more deeply he trusted you, the stronger his love for you became, the more he wanted to protect you and your happiness.

“Then I suppose that makes three of us,” Lucifer said, clearing his throat.

“So? What are you suggesting we do?” asked Satan.

“That depends on them, of course. But it seems the primary reason for their struggle is because they feel unable to choose between us.”

“I already confessed directly, have you?” Satan asked, staring Lucifer down.

“I have not, and I don’t believe Beel has either,” Beel shook his head in agreement, “I think that’s irrelevant though based on the conversation we just had in their bedroom.”

Satan scoffed, walking to the other end of the room to put some distance between himself and Lucifer. Of course his brother was right. It didn’t really matter who said what first, or even who you fell in love with first. All that mattered was what you wanted. And right now, he wasn’t sure what you wanted at all.

He had to admit it did sting a little when he realized you weren’t interested in him alone. Particularly since Lucifer was one of the other parties involved. The idea of being in any sort of romantic relationship which also involved Lucifer just made his skin crawl. But despite that, the idea of losing you entirely was even more painful.

“I believe we need to decide what we would like to do if they express an interest in maintaining a relationship with all three...four...of us. Would either of you have any objections to that?”

Beel immediately shook his head. He didn’t have any issues with a polyamorous relationship, not if that’s what you wanted. He just wanted to see you happy, and he knew it would make him feel better if you were with someone else who loved you just as much as he did when he couldn’t be there. The only other concern that crossed his mind was how Belphie would react, but he knew that Belphie adored you too in his own way, and you enjoyed his company as well. So there really wasn’t any reason for Beel to say “no”.

“Satan?”

“No objections, so long as we get private time with them too.”

“Then it seems we are all agreed. We will wait to see what they decide.”

————

You wrapped your arms around Dia’s neck as he lifted you up effortlessly and spun you around, the both of you laughing. He was so glad to hear what you desired, and more than happy to do what he could to make that wish come true. You hardly asked for anything for yourself, something he found absolutely charming, but now that you confessed to him that you wanted to be his? He’d give you the whole Devildom if you asked for it. Maybe even if you didn’t.

You hid your face in his neck as you hugged him close. You were pretty sure you must be dreaming at this point, but you didn’t care. You were going to make the most of this dream for as long as it lasted. You still had the other 3 of your beloved demons to talk to, but having Dia on your side made that not seem nearly as scary now. He had given you permission to be yourself, and he didn’t shame you for it, or guilt you into changing your mind. He just listened, and accepted you with open arms.

“I want to suggest we make a break for it, and run off together, but I think Lucifer and his brothers are waiting for us.”

You pulled back to look Dia in the eyes, and smiled at him. He was even more handsome up close, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his hair before resting your forehead against his. You wanted to savor this moment for just a little while longer. After you left your room, there was going to be a whole host of things to discuss and negotiate. It might honestly be awhile before you’d get to have some alone time like this with him again, but you knew he was worth it. They all were. You’d figure things out one way or another, of that you were certain.

“Alright, I guess I’ve put this off long enough.”

“I probably shouldn’t carry you into Lucifer’s study, should I?”

“Probably not,” you laughed.

Diavolo set you down gently, only releasing you from his arms when he was sure you were steady on your feet. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before offering you his hand, and entwining his fingers with yours. He beamed at you, when he caught you staring at your joined hands, lifting them up to kiss the back of the one he was holding. You blushed at the gesture, but couldn’t help but smile when your eyes met his.

“Shall we?” he asked, leading you to your bedroom door.

————

You peered sheepishly around the corner of Lucifer’s study door before entering the room, Diavolo slightly behind you, with one hand gently resting on your lower back to encourage you. As your eyes scanned the room, Lucifer, Satan, and Beel all turned to face you, various expressions of anxiety and excitement written on their faces. You turned back to look at Dia, and he just smiled and nodded at you, guiding you inside.

“Hey…” was all you managed to squeak out.

Not wasting a moment, Beel rose to his feet and wrapped his arms about your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. He kissed the top of your head, before resting his cheek against you.

“I love you,” he whispered, “and I’m fine with whatever you want to do.” You clutched at his shirt in return, relief washing over you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t pressure you to make a choice. He just supported you like he always did, the same support you gave him. You took a deep breath, breathing in his scent, before slowly pulling away so you could see his face. He smiled at you softly, and you just felt your heart melt. How could a demon possibly be this cute? you wondered.

“I love you too,” you replied, making his smile broaden. You hadn’t said it to him yet, and hearing those words in your voice made him want to jump for joy. Caught up in the moment, you briefly forgot about the others in the room with you, until Lucifer cleared his throat. You blushed heavily when you realized you were being watched, and you could hear Dia chuckling behind you.

Beel let you go, but immediately grabbed your hand and brought you to the chair he had been sitting in earlier. You took your seat, starting to feel a bit nervous again when he stepped back, even if it only was so Lucifer and Satan could have a chance to speak with you.

They were probably the two you were most anxious about speaking with. Their relationship was complicated enough as it was, you weren’t even sure they’d want to stick you in the middle of it.

“We’ll be outside if you need us,” Dia said, more to you than anyone else, as he offered you a smile. Beel nodded to you as well, before slipping out after Diavolo to give you some privacy with Lucifer and Satan.

Lucifer nudged the coffee table over so that it was positioned in such a way that both he and Satan could sit side by side in front of you. Even after he took a seat though, Satan remained a little ways away, silent and watching. Part of Lucifer wanted to chastise him for being stubborn and troublesome, but then he remembered that Satan was the only one to openly confess to you, and as such, probably had a lot more to discuss with you, preferably in private.

“I’ll keep this brief for now,” Lucifer began, returning his attention to you and holding the hand nearest him, “But I too, love you, deeply. And I hope you will accept me. I’m willing to do whatever is needed to insure your happiness.”

You had not been expecting such an open and forward declaration of love from Lucifer, of all demons, but you could see the unbridled passion in his eyes as he looked at you and waited for your reply. All you could do was nod your head, which made Lucifer smirk, pleased that he had rendered you speechless. He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly on the lips. It was only the briefest of touches, but it contained a promise of more that made your heart race.

“We will talk more later,” he said, as he gave you one final kiss to your forehead, turning to look at Satan before he left the room.

Satan kept his eyes trained on the door to Lucifer’s study until he heard the tell-tale “click” signifying it had been locked. He then sighed, his shoulders relaxing, as he turned to face you. His mask, the carefully crafted one he often hid behind in his attempt to control his emotions, crumbled away and you could see just how exhausted he appeared. Your heart ached knowing that you were to blame for that. He had been waiting for your response to his confession for several weeks now, and you had always managed to avoid answering him.

You knew you needed to apologize to him, before anything else, so you stood up and hesitantly moved to stand before him. Fortunately for Satan, even with as close as you were, you were unable to hear the way his heart thudded rapidly against his chest. Or if you did, you didn’t mention it. Instead, you simply reached out for his hands and held them tightly, rubbing your thumbs along his knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Satan. I was...I was scared. And I acted childishly and selfishly. I should have spoken to you…”

Your apology was cut short when you suddenly felt his lips crash into yours. Taking advantage of your surprise, he wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you close, and with the other he gently cradled your head, holding you in place. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what was happening, but once you finally realized you quickly looped your arms around Satan’s neck and deepened the kiss. You could feel him smiling against your lips when you did so, happy tears starting to spill from your eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered, when you finally broke away for air, “I’m sorry for not talking to you.”

Satan rested his forehead against yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your neck, “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me,” he teased.

“I guess so,” you laughed, before pulling back to look him in the eyes, “Are you sure you’re ok with this? With Lucifer and everyone I mean.”

“I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t prefer to have you all to myself. But,” he paused, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear, “but I’m willing to work with you, to try to find a compromise we can all be happy with.”

“Really?” you could feel your tears threatening to spill again as your heart started to overflow with joy.

“Really. Will you promise me something though?”

“Of course, anything,” you said, wiping at your eyes, trying to fight off your tears.

“That you will talk with me if things change. And that we will be able to spend time together, just the two of us.”

Your vision blurred with tears, unable to hold them back any longer, “I promise. I’ll talk to you. About everything.”

“Good,” he whispered, gently kissing away your tears as they slid down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop smiling now if you even were to try. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as you could manage, hoping to convey even a fraction of your happiness to him. When you felt him hug you back tightly, arms wrapped around your waist, you knew you had been successful.

Against all odds, and despite your fumbling attempts at dealing with your own emotions, you had managed to get everything you had wanted. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined things working out this way. Your arrival in the Devildom had been a lonely one. But you weren’t alone anymore. Not now, not ever.

#200 followers #anon request #request #gn!mc #poly mc #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me beel #lucifer x poly mc #satan x poly mc #beel x poly mc #diavolo x poly mc #obey me angst #obey me fanfic #poly angst #poly comfort

137 notes · View notes

bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

Text

BeeTober 2020 Day 3

Divine Harvest

It's day 3 of BeeTober and the Untamed Fall Fest and those two words in combination really screamed for a continuation of my LXC is a god and JC is his trusted chosen disciple. Finally some backstory as to how the gods were forgotten. Plays after Worthy of a god and before not dead, just forgotten.

Jiang Cheng is getting more and more worried with each passing day. There are rumours in the air, conversations held behind closed doors and in hushed whispers and which each speculation that Jiang Cheng catches his worry grows.

War is in the air, and Lan Xichen won’t tell him about it.

But Jiang Cheng wants to know—he needs to know in order to protect his god—and so he goes looking for Lan Xichen.

“You’re keeping secrets from me,” Jiang Cheng opens the conversation with as soon as he finds Lan Xichen in front of his house and the guilty look on Lan Xichen’s face is enough confirmation for Jiang Cheng. “You promised to never keep anything from me,” he quietly tacks on and Lan Xichen sighs.

“How do you know?” Lan Xichen asks him and Jiang Cheng gives him a look.

“I’m not stupid. There’s talk all over the place. No one quite dares to say it out loud yet, but I caught something about a Divine Harvest?”

“Oh, my beautiful heart, you have always been so clever,” Lan Xichen says with a slight smile and beckons Jiang Cheng to his side.

Praise from Lan Xichen is nothing new; it’s almost like he makes it a point to praise Jiang Cheng at least once a day, but it still never got easier for Jiang Cheng to accept it. To accept that maybe Lan Xichen means it, that he is awed by Jiang Cheng.

It’s been at least seven decades with Lan Xichen now—Jiang Cheng finds it increasingly difficult to keep track of the time—and even though that should be more than enough to make up for only eighteen years of his father’s callous words, Jiang Cheng still struggles with it.

“Stop it,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, like he always does, but dutifully goes over to his god. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

Lan Xichen tucks him into his side, close and protected, and this is something else Jiang Cheng has noticed in the past. Lan Xichen’s need to keep him close and to touch him often.

He guesses it’s because Lan Xichen’s last disciple died so violently, but he never dared to ask Lan Xichen directly. Jiang Cheng isn’t even sure if he wants to know, if he’s just filling in some empty space in Lan Xichen’s life; a replacement for someone Lan Xichen loved dearly but lost.

“Don’t do that,” Lan Xichen chides him gently and rubs a thumb over the worry lines in Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have to if you could just tell me the truth,” Jiang Cheng shoots back, diverting his thoughts to the much more pressing issue at hand.

“I had hoped to keep this from you for a little bit longer,” Lan Xichen admits. “Because once you know that worry line will be permanent and I didn’t want that for you,” Lan Xichen explains and then sighs. “But you’re right. I promised to never keep secrets from you.”

“So tell me,” Jiang Cheng urges and he’s already prepared to do anything for Lan Xichen if he should need to.

If this Divine Harvest is something that is worrying Lan Xichen this much, Jiang Cheng better get prepared for a fight sooner rather than later. He’s already thinking about doing more training session, even though amongst the disciples there is only Wei Wuxian who can match him now.

“The Divine Harvest is a very ancient technique. Maybe even more ancient than any of us,” Lan Xichen starts his explanation, and though he keeps his voice light, Jiang Cheng can tell that he is nervous.

This seems to be more serious than he originally thought.

“What does it do?” Jiang Cheng asks but he can tell by the tension in Lan Xichen that it’s nothing good.

“It harvests the power of the gods, leaving them unable to do anything but exist in the most basic forms, and then it uses that power to erase the knowledge of the gods from the mortal plane. Humans will forget us and all knowledge about us will be swiped from the records.”

Dread pools in Jiang Cheng’s stomach, because that doesn’t sound good at all. It sounds like something that can never be allowed to happen.

“I don’t like it,” Jiang Cheng says almost petulantly and just like he hoped it brings a smile to Lan Xichen’s face, no matter how small it is.

“I don’t like it either, my heart. We all don’t like it. But it seems like Wen Ruohan unearthed that technique and we’re all just waiting to see what he’s going to do with it.”

“It’s not going to be good,” Jiang Cheng knows that much, because Wen Ruohan is one of the cruellest, most power-hungry gods Jiang Cheng has ever seen.

“Of course not,” Lan Xichen agrees and squeezes Jiang Cheng one last time before he puts some distance between them. “But nothing happened yet, so let’s not think the worst. Maybe he’ll just sit on the knowledge and not actually do anything with it.”

Jiang Cheng scoffs at that, because they both know that that doesn’t sound like Wen Ruohan at all. If he has the chance to destroy the gods, then he’s going to take it. He makes no secret that he would like to rule the humans alone, after all.

“Yeah, let’s hope,” Jiang Cheng still whispers, because maybe, just maybe they will get lucky.

~*~*~

They do not get lucky.

They are incredibly unlucky, is all Jiang Cheng can think when he sees the fire spread further and further in the place he had called his home for the last centuries.

Wen Ruohan has taken his time, has chosen to spread unease and growing worry amongst the gods instead of using the Divine Harvest immediately, but it seems like he finally tired of that as well.

There’s a fluttering panic in Jiang Cheng’s belly because he hasn’t seen Lan Xichen since it all started and Jiang Cheng’s entire being aches with the thought that maybe it’s already too late for Lan Xichen. That maybe he died without Jiang Cheng by his side.

But then he reminds himself that he still remembers Lan Xichen—still remembers their time together—so Wen Ruohan can’t have completed the ritual yet. And Lan Xichen is too formidable a fighter to simply die in hand-to-hand combat.

“My heart,” Lan Xichen suddenly says from behind Jiang Cheng, and when Jiang Cheng turns around to look at him, he sees that Lan Xichen must have been fighting already.

There’s sooth all over his usually so white robes and a speck of blood mars his cheek.

“Are you hurt?” Jiang Cheng breathes out, rushing forward to check Lan Xichen over but he only breathes easier when Lan Xichen shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he reassures him and that finally allows the anger to take root in Jiang Cheng.

“Then what the hell is going on? I should be fighting with you, why did you go out alone?” he demands to know, because he is still Lan Xichen’s disciple and it should be on him to fight for Lan Xichen.

To fight with him.

“You’re not going to fight,” Lan Xichen tells him, and his voice is all steel.

Jiang Cheng has never heard him sound like that before.

“What is going on?” Jiang Cheng whispers, as he fists his hands in Lan Xichen’s robes.

“He’s performing the ritual. He’s going to erase us.”

“Then let’s fight him!”

“No,” Lan Xichen says and covers Jiang Cheng’s hands with his own. “I’m sending you down to Earth.”

“Absolutely not,” Jiang Cheng immediately snaps back, but Lan Xichen doesn’t seem like he is even listening to Jiang Cheng.

“He’s killing the disciples,” Lan Xichen says, a faraway look in his eyes. “He’s killing them all, and I’m not going to lose you, my beautiful heart. He’s coming for you, especially. He’s afraid of you.”

“If he’s so afraid of me, then let me fight!”

“No.”

“Xichen,” Jiang Cheng chokes out, because Lan Xichen seems seconds away from crying and Jiang Cheng cannot take it. “Let me stay by your side.”

“You can’t. You’ll be safer on Earth.”

“I will forget you, if you send me down there,” Jiang Cheng argues, because even though it has been so many years since they last talked about the Divine Harvest, he still remembers that.

Everyone on Earth will forget about the gods.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lan Xichen says with a shake of his head. “You’re my most wonderful disciple, loyal down to the single last atom of your very being. You will remember me.”

“What if I don’t?” Jiang Cheng whispers, because that grain of self-doubt still sits deep within him. “What if I don’t?”

“You will,” Lan Xichen says with conviction. “You will remember me.”

“What if Wen Ruohan finds me first?” Jiang Cheng goes on, because he cannot bear to leave Lan Xichen behind.

“He will not. He forgot that he is divine, too. The ritual harvests the power of the gods. Of all the gods. And at the end of the day, no matter how highly he thinks of himself, he is just a god as well. He’ll be powerless and the people will forget about him, too.”

Jiang Cheng likes that thought, likes that Wen Ruohan can grab for power all he wants, but that he is still bound by the rules as well, but it doesn’t do anything to make this situation right now any less awful.

“Please don’t make me leave,” Jiang Cheng begs and startles when Lan Xichen rests their foreheads together.

“I cannot let him kill you, I cannot go through that again. Wangji already sent Wei Wuxian down, and I think Nie Mingjue sent Mo Xuanyu away as well. You’ll find them again and then you’re going to remember me, no matter how long it takes.”

“What are you going to do without me?” Jiang Cheng asks, and he hates how his voice shakes, he hates how desperate he feels at just the thought of being separated from Lan Xichen.

“I’ll be waiting for you, my heart,” Lan Xichen easily replies. “I’ll wait for you to find me again.”

“Please don’t,” Jiang Cheng tries again, but then he can hear yelling and he knows their time is almost up. “Come with me,” he urges Lan Xichen but he shakes his head.

“There’s still a slim chance that we can stop him. I have to stay. But you, my beautiful heart, you’re leaving now,” Lan Xichen says and Jiang Cheng can’t help the sob that breaks through.

“I will find you,” Jiang Cheng promises, his voice already shaking with his grief and Lan Xichen smiles at him.

“I know that you will,” he whispers as he brushes his lips over Jiang Cheng’s. “And I will be waiting for that day.”

It’s the last thing Lan Xichen says to him, because immediately afterwards Jiang Cheng finds himself in the middle of a field down on earth.

He’s crying freely now, tears streaming down his face, but when he turns his gaze upwards to the Heavens there is no sign of the turmoil, of the war up there.

Jiang Cheng thinks that’s monumentally unfair, and he tries to ascend by himself, but nothing his happening.

Lan Xichen and the others must have done something to prevent the disciples from coming back and if Jiang Cheng only cries harder at that, then no one is around to see.

“Xichen,” he whispers, hoping that at least his voice will reach his god, but he doesn’t know if it works.

“Xichen, Xichen, Xichen,” he repeats, over and over again, hoping to keep on to his memories but by the fifteenth time, the name doesn’t make sense anymore.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know a Xichen, and he also can’t remember why he’s out at night, in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks something must have happened at home, because he has been crying, but even that memory escapes his grasp.

“Xichen,” Jiang Cheng mutters again, the name foreign and strange on his lips and then he shrugs.

Better not think about it anymore.

On the way home his gaze keeps wandering up to the sky as if he should be able to see something there, and that doesn’t make sense at all.

The old gods are dead, after all.

Next part

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #beetober 2020 #untamed fall fest #untamed fall fest 2020 #mdzs #the untamed #xicheng #lxc is a god #jc is a disciple #THE disciple #hurt #angst #the comfort is in the sequel #i'm sorry

139 notes · View notes

sepublic · 4 years

Text

Wing it like Witches!

Let me tell you- I was WORRIED this episode would make me sad and angsty, but instead it just made me happy and all warm inside! I know that sounds super-corny but like…

I LOVED this episode! I was worried from the promo pic that Boscha’s bullying would really get to Luz, Gus, and Willow, but… It didn’t! I mean, it still got to WILLOW hence the entire episode, but otherwise Luz and Gus were less “Wow I’m really being reminded of my insecurities from bullying” and more “I can’t believe she ACTUALLY did that. She wasted her entire school day doing that. This girl is NUTS, is she okay back home?”

(The more I see of Boscha, the more I have to wonder if she IS okay back home… Obviously not crippled with self-loathing to the extent that Amity is, but never mind.)

What’s really surprise to see though; LILITH IS A RED-HEAD!?!? I remember seeing that first pic of young Eda with two other classmates, one of whom was obscured and the other had glasses; And I thought, is THAT girl Lilith, could it be? Is the girl with the obscured face the one who stole Lilith’s lunch money, potentially that favorite character from Season 2 that Dana alluded to? My mind is racing, but either way young Eda and Lilith are utterly adorable! I do have to wonder if what Lilith had to say about Eda’s bad memory was just a jab, or something more… Given that the show has alluded to Eda possibly having amnesia with MORE than just her curse…!

Speaking of which; LILITH AND EDA GETTING ALONG! Well, sort of- I mean they’re technically adversarial by the end of this episode, but only technically. Lilith knows where the Owl House is, finally; And we get to see in this episode just how capable Hooty really IS as a security system, surprisingly enough! He even manages to capture LILITH; Though to be fair, she may not have been super-invested in the mission given this was her sister we’re talking about, but still! Coupled with Hooty mercilessly tearing apart those toys in Adventures in the Elements, and I have to wonder if he’s ever, like… KILLED people before, y’know?

…Maybe I don’t want that answer. Regardless, I love Luz’s little cheeky interference with Eda’s game, but Eda still manages to win by her last trick; Just pure, genuine skill and talent! That was a twist, I was expecting Eda to have another cheat or to be caught by Lilith, but as I said before… Eda isn’t humble, and for a GOOD reason! Lilith ain’t no slouch either, and I love that King willingly donned a cheerleader outfit just to offer support! I mean, maybe Eda MADE him, but otherwise he didn’t seem to have much of an issue so long as it was just at home!

And… I LOVE the little small moments between Eda and Lilith, where… Lilith KNOWS she has to turn her sister in, she’s getting desperate, but it’s also low-key breaking her heart to do this! And when she loses the match and just… FALLS on her knees in despair, questioning herself, and Eda picking her up? Giving her that signature ring, just to make Lilith look better? I… I LOVE these sisters, why can’t they make up?! Lilith isn’t even aiming to imprison Eda, she just wants her to join the Emperor’s Coven and continue doing stuff alongside her, like old times!

And Eda… Eda still needs her autonomy, but she knows that Lilith isn’t some cruel person. She knows that Lilith loves her sister and wants the best, that she’s in a terrible position; Eda knows how stifling the Coven System is, and while being beneath Belos provides a lot of power… It also provides a lot of PRESSURE as well! Sure, Lilith chose this… But Eda still believes that Lilith is deserving of kindness and compassion!

(Let me tell you, considering I don’t think we’ve seen any Eda clips past this episode, I was LEGIT afraid she’d get captured by the end… thank goodness!)

What’s also fascinating to note is that Emperor Belos was in charge since fiftyyears ago; Given the speculation that Eda isn’t as old as she looks, this indicates Belos is PRETTY old himself, by a large margin; Especially when one considers how long-lived Bump is! It’s a small moment telling us how he established the Coven Heads five decades ago, but I really appreciated it; And in general, this episode seems to be our final, light-hearted breather before we get into the REALLY heavy stuff… Keep in mind, our last two episodes were originally planned to air side-by-side, like a two-part season finale! On a lesser note, we see the Heximal System teacher giving a History lesson, confirming what I suspected earlier; That some subjects include students from all tracks, simply because the subject-matter applies across any and all covens, and History is one of them! Love the small world-building here!

Given how we don’t see anything else of Willow and Gus past that scene in Belos’ treasury, I have to wonder… What if those two get captured, and only Luz can escape? Amidst King –and possibly Eda- being taken as well, Luz might be looking at a one-man operation here! Which just makes her all the more impressive… Like looking at her now, even if she DOES lose against Lilith; She’d still have been going toe-to-toe with the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, even if only briefly! Luz has come a far way away from where she started as just a powerless human, and has amassed FOUR glyphs; Light, Ice, Plant, and Fire!

And BOY HOWDY is she good at them! Seriously, I bet she could’ve easily beaten Boscha in a Witch’s Duel if she wanted; Though it’s worth noting that according to Willow, Grudgby is apparently the only language she speaks… Given that shot of her room at the beginning, I have to wonder if that’s where her MAIN self-worth lies in! In the beginning Boscha acknowledges to herself that she’s hated, ‘so long as she is feared’; And her monologue low-key gives me, “Doesn’t know how to make friends so copes by putting herself above everybody else and overinflating her own self-importance under the impression that people are just secretly jealous!” vibes. (In some ways she’s like Grace from Infinity Train…)

That aside, I just get a sensation of pride from seeing how adept and adaptable Luz is, and the way she learned Fire from Boscha of all people –Which I called!- is both hilarious but goes to show what kind of a learner she is… I feel like Eda, like we’ve watched our kid grow and get stronger and I can’t WAIT to see what she pulls off next! Amidst her learning Magic and then defying the Coven System… you go Luz, YOU GO!

And, it seems I’m not the only person who shares this sentiment! Even after Boscha’s bullying, we don’t see anybody beyond her gang make fun of Luz and co.! When Willow gets trashed poured on her, some students are watching, but… They seem kind of disturbed by it all? They’re not outright vouching on her behalf like Luz, possibly because Boscha is watching; But still! It is SO cathartic to see Willow being beloved by the entire school like that, even if she’s keeping her friend-circle to a select few; People LIKE her, and it’s what she deserves! Like Luz, I’m SO proud…!

I’m still disappointed we didn’t get the names of Boscha’s other friends, but I really like their inclusion here! I liked how they all seemed rather uncomfortable with seeing Luz forfeit, only to be made Boscha’s target practice; And how Luz is so bright, bubbly, and infectiously-cheerful, spreading her good will to others! Like, this girl is TOO kind, and so loving… She has no bounds and I love how those other girls are even affected by Luz, genuinely enjoying her and wanting to be friends, alongside having Willow as a teammate! I have to wonder if they’ll ditch Boscha after this… Or at the very least, try to talk her down as friends of Boscha that she actually cares about and vice-versa (compared to Amity, who has always been cold towards Boscha, hence why her talking wouldn’t have made a difference)!

Speaking of Amity… C’mon, girl. Your CRUSH is showing, the way you’re getting flustered, imagining seeing Luz in a ‘cute’ uniform and everything… Gus being utterly confused, but you can tell that the gears in Willow’s head are turning and honestly; She’s all for it, likely! I think this is the first time Amity has had an ACTUAL crush on someone she can talk to, instead of some distant figure or a fictional character! It’s so heartwarming seeing her navigate it, getting to actually deal with feelings like a kid is supposed to be allowed to do! And Luz being clueless… That, or she thinks Amity is into WILLOW, which makes a lot of sense too!

(After all, Luz knows that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being Amity’s girlfriend… But Luz, you have NO idea how much she cares, she literally loves you more than she fears them! And Amity, knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve and struggling with this no doubt, but her love for Luz is really shining through over all of that!)

To put it simply; Luz is FRIEND-shaped, she’s lovable, there’s no escaping liking her! Maybe Boscha will always be a bully, and I know one might call it ‘cliché’… But honestly I’d love to see Boscha eventually warm up to Luz and HER infectious positivity as well! Also, I saw that twist with the Rusty Smidge coming from a mile away, and I love how Luz low-key gets into a genuine rant over it! Although the loss doesn’t matter, as Luz’s team was clearly more adept and Boscha’s friends don’t seem interested in forcing Luz and her friends to do all of that other stuff…

Anyhow, I love seeing Amity stand up for her friends, and when she says that her social life has improved because she’s with Luz, in spite of Boscha’s claims… I really CAN see her standing up to her parents, sometime later! I speculated a while back that depending on how her and Luz’s relationship in Enchanting Grom Fright goes, it’d really impact what Amity does later down the line, and I was right! But it IS worth noting that Amity may not yet know that Luz has to leave… King and Eda know, and the former mentioned this in front of Willow and Gus! It’s possible that Luz has laid out her plans to return every summer (and during winter break and whatnot), which would definitely lessen Amity’s angst by an infinite amount! And seeing as how she has instantaneous access to the Demon Realm, who’s to say she can’t pop in every day, after school! Sure she might not be actively living in the Owl House anymore, but otherwise…!

On another note with Amity, I love her and Luz getting to geek out over The Good Witch Azura, and it’s funny to see the show confirm what I wondered about earlier; About Amity secretly making Azura references in public, under the knowledge that nobody would recognize them and realize she’s a nerd… But LUZ does now, and the two can bond! Also, Amity getting to have fun with Luz and co. at the end, being CARRIED by Luz, fully accepted into the home… I know you also have the library as a safe space Amity, but you’ve also got the Owl House as well! And it seems Hooty bears no grudges, either!

Also, someone speculated recently that Amity has her goth-sense from Lilith… and given the implication that Lilith dyed her hair, I can REALLY SEE IT! I’m disappointed we didn’t get any interactions between the two… But the way it was set up, I feel like if Eda and Lilith were there they’d be too busy cheering on their kids respectively! Or not, we’ve seen them prioritize their feud in Covention… But back then Luz and Amity weren’t on the same team!

Back to Amity, it’s interesting that she used to be on the Grudgby team, and was good at it, even being CAPTAIN when Boscha wasn’t; But then explicitly quit when she accidentally hurt some of her ‘friends’ merely once. Even if she never cared for them in the past, even if this was before she met Luz and learned to be kind and open again… She was ALWAYS someone who was self-conscious of her actions! And sure, the issue is that Amity is a LITTLE too self-conscious, constantly berating herself, holding herself accountable for every mistake… But regardless, it says a lot how guilty she feels to have hurt her teammates, even if it was an accident and a one-time incident that resulted in victory!

I’ll probably do ANOTHER post about it later, but it says a lot; How Amity feels like she should step up as a Blight, and she DOES outshine the others… But because of that inherent guilt but also compassion, she actually quits Grudgby out of guilt! Which leads me to the idea that even if she tolerated Boscha and co., she wouldn’t have wanted to hurt them; Again, because she’s critical of herself, but also because Amity isn’t cruel and it may have reminded her of how she treated Willow! I have to respect and fear for Amity on quitting Grudgby after that…

Again, I think she has the issue of being too overtly-critical of herself, and that it’s honestly THE issue that defines her problems; But on the other hand, I feel like Amity’s parents would’ve been displeased to see their star child quit the team, just for hurting some ‘lesser’ witches? I’m scared for what may have happened to Amity, but it also says a lot that she made a potentially defiant move simply because she didn’t want to hurt yet another friend…

(That, or her parents wanted Amity to focus on Abominations and other studies, and coupled with Amity’s guilt, it was the perfect opportunity to get her off the team. Which would be sad, but not surprising.)

Anyhow, I just think it’s interesting that Boscha and co. don’t ever seem to have any resentment towards Amity until recently. It’s possible Boscha DID dislike Amity up until she stepped down… But it makes me wonder if Boscha, like, looked up to Amity and wanted her approval and attention? Given how she’s always framed as following Amity… Perhaps Amity stepping down led to Boscha taking the spotlight, and so Boscha feels indebted towards Amity for her fame (and potential source of self-worth)?

Last but DEFINITELY not least; Somebody else (I’m sorry I keep forgetting) alluded to how in Understanding Willow, there was the issue set up of Luz meaning the best for friends… But also sometimes invading their privacy, or overriding what they want, so she can live out her fantasies at the same time! And, like- A big part of her IS doing this for her friends, that much is clear… But Luz does have an issue sometimes with clearing fantasy from reality! It’s a more advanced lesson from the one she learned in Episode 2, continuing off of that, and I LOVE it!

Like, I really do LOVE how Luz recognizes in this episode that even if a part of her is motivated in helping Willow, she’s also using this as a chance to live out her underdog Azura fantasies, and how Willow points this out to her… and Luz realizes that she’s right! She actively MAKES a change to her behavior, and makes up for it by fixing Willow’s hairclip and even forfeiting on Willow’s behalf and taking all the punishment… All because she doesn’t want her friend to be uncomfortable! Man, Luz is SO ridiculously kind, I keep saying she’s my favorite but she REALLY IS! What a lovable dork, no wonder Boscha and her friends are falling for her!

(Also RIP Skara, you were the fourth one in a team of three. Although given how she helped carry Luz and Amity in the previous episode, amidst already having more screen time… I can see this as a way for the writers to give more of a spotlight to Boscha’s other friends, while subtly acknowledging that Skara likely has gotten over her bias towards Luz and the others. I wonder if Boscha also noticed and that’s why she was left out; That, or she’s the least-skilled? I dunno, but it was neat to see and I’ll overanalyze the moment regardless!)

On a lesser note; Willow’s last name is Park, which is a Korean surname! Coupled with her VA’s ethnicity and Willow/Tati Gabrielle being listed amongst other Asian rep characters and VAs, and I think it’s safe to say that she’s the Boiling Isles equivalent to Asian; Which let me tell you, is VERY nice to see!

Overall, this was an AMAZING episode! It was a heartwarming, feel-good episode that reaffirmed character relationships and love while still expanding on them, adding in more friends to the group… It was pretty much nothing but happy moments and revelations! Obviously things are setting up in the next two episodes to go REALLY crazy, especially with Luz potentially getting banned from Hexside for defying Lilith and Belos… But it’s clear to say that she’s left QUITE the good impression on the administration and students! And I can see some even vibing with Luz’s ideas even after she gets kicked out… Perhaps Luz will unknowingly start a rebellion of sorts?

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house boscha #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house amity #amity blight #analysis

175 notes · View notes

my-bated-breath · 4 years

Text

Revenge for a Memory

An essay on Katara’s relationship with grief, resentment, and closure

_____

“So… the torturer of one’s imagination, the monstrous figure against whom one had struggled for so many years, dwindled to this pitiful wretch, whose obvious need was not for punishment, but for some kind of psychological treatment.”

- George Orwell, “Revenge is Sour”

_____

Her element answers her call - a hundred icicles hang suspended in the air, dagger-sharp and aimed to draw blood. On the other end, the man brings up his arms in a movement that’s quick yet still too slow, crossed over his head as if to protect himself. He trembles. He shakes.

His death would be so effortless. She could maneuver around his pathetic defense in half a second; she could kill him swiftly and painlessly if only she wishes it to be so. Looking upon his small and curled form, she knows he would offer little resistance. He is powerless.

Katara hesitates, something slipping inside of her, through her stance, through her fingers. Rain pours on. Ice becomes water. Yon Rha is spared.

_____

When considering Avatar: The Last Airbender in its entirety, “The Southern Raiders” stands out as one of the most mature and morally ambiguous episodes, one delving deep into Katara’s relationship with love and loss, present and past, and justice and revenge. Within it, the story does not outline any right or wrong path for Katara to choose. Rather, the most she can hope for is to choose the path of least regrets.

By the end of the episode, Katara has found closure. She returns from her confrontation with Yon Rha having let go of her resentment towards Zuko, who once represented everything she hated about the Fire Nation, and forgives him. The reason why she forgives him is clear - he has earned it by providing her with the means to find her mother’s killer. But the reason why she has found closure is less so.

_____

“This is a journey you need to take. You need to face this man. But when you do, please don't choose revenge. Let your anger out, and then let it go. Forgive him.”

_____

“But I didn't forgive him. I'll never forgive him.”

_____

To forgive is to let go of resentment. And for Katara - for someone who was eight-years-old when she last saw her mother, for someone whose entire childhood was ripped away in the same second her mother’s life was ripped away from her body, for someone who was forced to mature far too quickly to fill in that hollow space left behind by a ghost - that is too much to ask for. Although violence may not have been the answer, a lack of violence does not mean a lack of anger on Katara’s part. Her trauma has wounded her too much to prevent her grief from spilling into anger, and Katara can let neither her grief nor rage go.

No, forgiveness is not the reason why Katara found closure.

That grief and that rage, however, no longer overwhelm her in the way they used to. Something gives way during that confrontation with Yon Rha, but what is it? What is the realization that frees her from her hurt, that paves the foundation for her healing?

_____

“I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing, but now that I see you, I think I understand. There's just nothing inside you, nothing at all. You're pathetic and sad and empty.”

_____

After she spares Yon Rha, Katara tells him that he’s “nothing.” For the individual who clings onto the nebulous concepts of “meaning” and “purpose” for their entire lifespan, to be “nothing” is to be faced with eternal damnation. Someone who is “pathetic and sad and empty” is someone who lives but is not alive, running through the motions of each day mechanically and without feeling.

Perhaps the reason why Katara finds closure without forgiveness or revenge is that she chooses the ground in-between. She has found justice without needing to serve it because life, in its cruel and karmic ways, had already reduced Yon Rha to a shell of the man he once was. Had Katara been any more merciless towards Yon Rha, it would still have been merciful compared to how he suffers in his present life. Ending Yon Rha would be a waste of Katara’s efforts.

So Katara says, “I think I understand.”

And so we, the audience, think we understand too. Only then we remember what Katara had said before:

“I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing, but now that I see you…”

Katara is fourteen when she says “now that I see you.”

She was eight when she first saw Yon Rha.

In Katara’s flashback, the “kind of person [who] could do such a thing” is someone ominous, terrifying, and inhuman, a portrayal exemplified by the low-angle in which Yon Rha is framed in contrast to the high-angle looking down on Katara. In this shot, Yon Rha towers over Katara both in height and in authority. Thus, she has always imagined her mother’s killer to be the same way he has appeared to her when she was a helpless, vulnerable child - he appears as a militaristic man, an arrogant man, a powerful man.

The man Katara finds behind the door in the Fire Nation telecommunications tower is just that. As the captain of an elite Fire Nation scouting group, he embodies everything Katara would expect from the monster of her childhood, someone with a capacity for immense ruin and cruelty. So, lost in a memory where she is completely powerless, Katara’s grief and anger compel her to cling onto every iota of power she had gained through the years. Pushing her skills to the limits and past the limits, she inadvertently pushes herself to use the power she swore she’d never use - bloodbending.

“It's not him. He's not the man.”

Stricken, Katara walks away. Whether she is silent because of disappointment or shock is left up to interpretation, but no interpretation can deny the poisonous effects Katara’s hatred had on her. It consumed her body and mind, driving her to reach into someone’s veins and into their blood, tempting her beyond the one line she promised she’d never crossed. Stemming from hurt, grief, and rage, her loathing is intoxicating in the same way her memories of her mother’s death is so haunting. Because there was no humanity in the way Kya was killed, and so Katara dehumanizes her mother’s murderer in the same manner.

Maybe monsters deserve to die. Maybe monsters deserve to be bloodbended.

But monsters can only exist in memory.

_____

“Revenge is an act which you want to commit when you are powerless and because you are powerless: as soon as the sense of impotence is removed, the desire evaporates also.”

- George Orwell, “Revenge is Sour”

____

Before, when Katara and Zuko fly on Appa with Whaletail Island in their sights, Zuko awakes to the sight of Katara looking forward to the horizon, back straight and eyes hardened with determination. In response to his request for her to rest, she tells Zuko, “oh, don't you worry about my strength. I have plenty.”

Later, in her encounter with the captain of the Southern Raiders, her strength is affirmed by her ability to bloodbend-

-yet this is the experience that plants that first seed of doubt into her mind.

These doubts are in full bloom by the time Katara and Zuko reach the small Fire Nation village that Yon Rha, now a humble farmer, calls home. They hide in the shadows, trailing behind him as he walks back home, and then, they wait.

And then, they strike.

_____

“That was him. That was the monster.”

- Katara

_____

Katara says that Yon Rha is the monster, but their roles are now reversed - Katara is the aggressor and Yon Rha is the victim; Katara looms over Yon Rha at a low-angle while Yon Rha is looked down upon from a high-angle. Ultimately, a monster is more than their cruelty and vileness; a monster has power; a monster has control over a nightmare.

Only now it is not Yon Rha in control, but Katara.

_____

“I'm not the helpless little girl I was when they came.”

- Katara

_____

In the end, the issue had never been about Katara’s strength - instead, it was about her weakness. As a child, she was vulnerable while Yon Rha was infallible, and so the image of Yon Rha looming over her is the one that persisted for years, plaguing her even as she grew up and grew stronger. Hence, the Yon Rha Katara saw as an eight-year-old is the Yon Rha she would have no qualms about killing.

But that Yon Rha belongs to another time. He belongs to a time in which Katara was weak and Yon Rha was strong, and that time is the past and the past is unbreachable. Thus, revenge can only exist in the ghost of a memory; revenge can only exist in fantasies.

Perhaps the childish fantasy aspect of revenge is why the platitudes “revenge is empty” and “revenge is meaningless” are thrown around so carelessly today, so much so that they no longer hold any weight. Of course, these statements are true in many ways, but they also oversimplify complex emotional responses to trauma. For Katara, revenge is empty because it is not what she needs.

Consciously or subconsciously, Katara recognizes her needs the moment when they’re met - with her suspending shards of ice in the air, all pointed towards Yon Rha. Then, fantasies and illusions shatter, falling away like ice turning back to water and splashing on the ground, unused. Katara now has power, not only through waterbending and bloodbending, but through the present over the past. Stripped of all his height and authority, the monster that was the Yon Rha of six years ago had already been killed. Now all that is left is her, standing over the humble-villager Yon Rha, over her fear and grief and rage, over the past that once haunted her. Over her memories.

_____

“I wanted to do it. I wanted to take out all my anger at him, but I couldn't. I don't know if it's because I'm too weak to do it or because I'm strong enough not to.”

- Katara

_____

By the end of her journey, the ideologies at conflict during the beginning of the episode are still at war within Katara. Katara holds power over her memories, but she is not at peace with them. Katara is able to forgive some, but she is not able to forgive all. The loss of her mother still hurts, but the loss of Katara’s innocence is replaced by the affirmation of her maturity. She has not let go of her rage, but she is no longer blinded by it.

Still, no matter how bittersweet the ending to this story is, it is also full of hope and new beginnings: The hold old memories had over Katara is broken. Six years’ worth of hurt and damage, though it cannot be smoothed over the course of a few days, can finally begin to heal. The wounds have been cleansed; the ghosts have been chased away. Now, Katara is strong where she was once weak. Now, Katara has found closure.

Now, Katara is free.

_____

Works Cited

Revenge is Sour by George Orwell

As seen by how much I quote George Orwell throughout this meta, my philosophy on the meaning of revenge draws a lot of inspiration from this essay, a piece on how a shift in dynamics in the post-World War II world can lead to the oppressed becoming the oppressors.

The Cycle of War by HelloFutureMe

My analysis on low-angle vs high-angle shots and the role-reversal of victim and aggressor comes from this video essay, a piece on how the cycle of persecution and victimization perpetuates war.

Companion Pieces (metas) by yours truly

Rage, Compassion, and the Bridge in Between

An essay on Katara’s emotions and the reciprocatory relationship between her kindness and anger

Ideals and Idealization

My interpretation of Aang and Katara’s relationship in The Southern Raiders and an extensive study on how Aang idealizes Katara

selfish

A fanfiction that takes my analysis on Katara’s grief + the concept of revenge and explores it in story form (OR: a post-TSR conversation written from Zuko’s POV; implied Zutara)

Summary: Revenge is a fantasy.

#atla #atla meta #katara #katara meta #The Southern Raiders #my bated breath analyzes #my bated breath's posts #on revenge and memory #george orwell #revenge is sour #hellofutureme #likes and reblogs always appreciated :)

137 notes · View notes

poetryofyouth · 3 years

Text

I did it, I finally quit psychiatry

(I wrote this for r/antipsychiatry, but I thought I might as well post it here too. don't read if you're easily triggered)

It's been a long journey through hell, but I've had enough. I'm not taking any more shit from incompetent, clueless doctors who think they know me better than I do myself. Who do not listen to me when I beg them to change the medication and instead just give me more of the stuff that is making me worse. I'll finally be free.

I doubt anyone cares, but I'll just tell you my story from the beginning. This is going to be a very long story. Basically, I became depressed at 14 or 15, I'm a 22 year old woman now. The reason was mainly that I couldn't handle the pressure from school. I am a very ambitious, perfectionist but also extremely lazy person. I was constantly beating myself up for not achieving what I wanted to achieve but also unable to fix my behavior. I did also have some slight, not even that serious trauma from a emotionally neglectful childhood and my parents telling me I was a failure every time I would get a grade that wasn't an A. At some point it all became too much and I started self-harming. Then I got worse and worse, self harming occasionally but severely, until I finally attempted suicide at 17.

I was locked into a youth psychiatry institution against my. will. I had my rights, my freedom taken away and was forced to take heavy medications. The very first evening I asked the psychiatrist at the hospital about the side effects of the medications, but he refused to tell me anything and instead just said I should trust his professional judgement. Unfortunately I was too tired and unwell to keep asking so I just accepted not knowing what would happen to me.

They gave me very high doses of Seroquel (Quetiapine), SSRIs and other stuff that I don't even know because they didn't even tell me the names of what they made me take. I just know the names of the medications I was supposed to continue to take after the hospital stay because they were in the papers they gave me. Then after a few days I begged the doctor to take me off the meds because I was so tired I could barely move. I had never felt worse in my life. she refused and instead upped my dose further.

I got worse and worse until I managed to get access to a razor blade I injured myself with on purpose. When my roommate told the nurses what I had done, I was forcefully, against my will restrained onto a bed. Yes, they actually tied me to a bed. And then pushed the bed into a small room where I was alone, and tied to the bed, unable to move. Of course I had a severe panic attack. The room had video surveillance, but it took them quite some time to notice that I was having a panic attack. they finally came and gave me something to breathe into and I calmed down more or less, but they didn't untie me. I later had to pee, and they didn't even untie me for that. I had to pee into a bedpan while tied to the bed, with a nurse watching me. it was incredibly humiliating. I was not untied the entire night. I was restrained until the next morning. When they finally untied me, I had quite seriously injured myself from fighting against the restraints. I had basically torn the skin off my ankles, the scars are faded now but they were visible for many years. It was quite painful. I do consider this incident of being restrained against my will psychiatric abuse, especially because I was restrained for so long. In total probably 10 hours, maybe even more.

Then the hospital didn't really know what to do with myself. I had of course lost any trust I had into the nurses and doctors and shut myself off from them. So they transferred me to a different institution, a more high-security one. Of course I wasn't asked if that was okay, I had to comply. I had began to form relationships with some of the girls, so being taken away from the small support system I had was very stresssful, especially considering how fragile I was at that time.

The other institution wasn't much different, but it was good for me to be taken away from the people who had abused me. I got a tiny bit better. I started to trust the nurses there a little bit. I got along with the other patients and over all liked the hospital better for maby reasons. And then they noticed I was a little better. And then they decided I was well enough to go back to the other hospital. Of course I wasn't asked this time either. But I had made more progress there in two weeks than in the other hospital in a month. I had again started building a little support system. But worst of all, I was forced to go back to the place where I had been abused, and at the time I was still very affected by the experience. I felt incredibly powerless and betrayed, but I didn't have a choice.

Then back at the first hospital I decided I would get better, for no other reason than to finally be able to leave that horrible place.

Then two things were getting severly uncomfortable. I was weighed every week and started noticing significant weight gain. At the same time, I was hungry all the time. painfully hungry, ravenous, even. I basically felt like I was starving all the time but still put on weight. Of course that was because of the high doses of Seroquel, but no one told me. I told nurses, doctors and therapists about the hunger and weight gain, but they simply didn't tell me that was a side effect, they told me an increased appetite was a sign i was getting better. I legit thought I was losing my mind.I have struggled with weight all my life and putting weight on like that made me feel horrible.

Then the doctor decided I was well enough to start taking up school work again. I begged him not to force me to, I told them the pressure of school was the reason I was sick in the first place. Of course no one listened to me. I was forced to do school work even if I knew it wasn't good for me. they didn't care.

Then, after three months of hell, I was finally released. And only because it was Christmas, and my parents refused to leave me there over Christmas. I got a therapist and medication for home.

Then after the Christmas holidays I, against my will, started going to school again. And after about two weeks, my new therapist told me that I had to choose between dropping out of school or going back to the hospital, because school was already making me severely suicidal again. And that was one of the few good things a mental health professional had said to me. I dropped out of school and actually started getting better for real. I sometimes forgot to take my medication, and every time I did, I instanty felt better. I suddenly didn't feel like a tired zombie anymore, I actually had emotions, I felt... alive. So I begged my psychiatrist to let me stop taking medications, and a few months after being released from the hospital, I was free of them.

And everything was great. I got a job, then I volunteered in New Zealand, then, when I was in a more stable place than at 17, I took up school again and graduated with flying colors. I was doing incredibly well.

And then I started university. The first semester went okay, but my mental health quickly started deteriorating. It was the academic pressure again. That's simply something I cannot handle. Soon I started self harming again, and it became more frequent than ever before. I also got into a bad, one might even say toxic, relationship. My girlfriend had issues on her own, but her behavior towards me was often extremely triggering and I very frequently self harmed because of something to do with our relationship. I do not want to blame her for my behavior, but she often made feel worthless, like I was not good enough for her. She would frequently cancel our dates at the last minute, and when she didn't, she would be half an hour late, and when we were together, she didn't make me feel very appreciated either. I was very much in love with her and always blamed myself for everything she did. She once even talked me into having sex with her, when I had said no repeatedly. She did not accept no for an answer and kept pushing until I slept with her to make her shut up. I felt like I didn't have a choice. She didn't force me to, but she simply did not accept my "no". Anyways, it was not her who took the knife to my skin, but she was a big factor in why I did it. I never told her she was a reason for my severe self harm, I didn't want her to feel bad. I didn't hide my wounds fro. her, I mean we did see each other naked and I always had at least four or five big bandages. We just kinda... ignored that.

So then I was getting desperate and decided to get professional help once again. I went to a free psychiatrist from the student councellors and she prescribed me Seroquel once again. I told her I didn't want to take it because it had made me gain a lot of weight and made me very tired. She laughed in my face and told me Seroquel doesn't do that. I don't know if she was just incompetent or lied to me on purpose, because these side effects are experienced by pretty much every single person who takes Seroquel, they are listed in the information leaflet, and I know many people who have taken this medication, all of them had them. During the appointment, she did not even ask me how I was feeling. She prescribed me 200 mg of Seroquel XR. Now, the recommended starting dosage is 50 mg. She prescribed me a starting dosage of four times the recommended amount. Unfortunately, I did not know that back then, I didn't expect a doctor to be that negligent. I took the first 200 mg pill that very evening before going to listen to a debate. Seroquel XR takes a while to kick in, but oh boy did it kick in. I didn't even notice the tiredness that much because I was having severe heart palpitations. My vision was going from normal to black and to normal again all the time. I was dizzy and desoriented and felt my heart was about to jump out of my chest, and sometimes it stopped beating for several seconds. I legit thought I might die in the audience of a debate on ethical farming.

Of course I didn't take the pills the next day and started looking for another psychiatrist. I got an appointment relatively quickly at a private one, it was relatively hopeless to get an appointment with one my insurance would pay, but I thought if she could help me, money wouldn't matter. She prescribed me some stuff that didn't do much harm but also didn't do much good. basically, i was a little tired but that was it. i got a therapist.

About 9 months passed, I had several psychiatrist appointments where I told her the meds didn't do much good, but she never really changed anything. She also insisted that I would get tested for Borderline personality disorder and the psychologist she told me to go to diagnosed me with it. My therapist at the time agreed with me that there was no way in hell that I have BPD, but she also said that when psychiatrists see an adult who self harms, BPD is the only thing that can explain that for them.

Then fall came and a new uni semester started. I had been alright over summer, I had broken up with my girlfriend, but of course with the start of the semester, everything came crashing down.

I lasted a month in university until i impulsively took the whole pack of Seroquel I still had laying around and went to the hospital telling them i was suicidal and also told them what i had done.

Now, I have to say that the nurses in this hospital were absolute angels. They treated my with respect, I almost felt mothered. I was given a lot of activated charcoal and basically had a good night in the hospital. I also got stitches for my freshest self harm injuries, but I had several ones that were too old to be treated that way.

The next morning I was transferred. Can you guess where to? The mental hospital i had been to as a teen. Again, I didn't have a choice.

But overall, the experience at the emergency ward was not as horrible as the first time. I was an adult now and actually treated like a human person. it says a lot about my first experience that I was very surprised by that.

I felt better rather quickly, mostly because the stress factory university was eliminated. The doctor there again insisted that I had BPD even when I said that was ridiculous. They evalued me again and the psychologist came to the conclusion that I had a borderline accentuation, basically borderline borderline.

The emergency ward doctor talked me into treatment at the psychotherapy ward, so I did that for 8 weeks. it was okay, again I was treated way better than as a teen. I was allowed to have an opinion about the medication, I was even allowed to read the little side effect pamphlets. But overall it didn't really do it, I self harmed less but I still self harmed.

During that stay I decided to drop out of university and start an apprenticeship as a baker. I found a company to work for, I loved work, then Corona happened. The company had to shut down. They laid me off after I had only worked there for three weeks. Basically I fell into a hole again, became a depressive husk again.

Then some time passes and a new therapist asked me why I didn't want to go to university anymore, she basically thought i was too intelligent not to. I told her how I could never focus, how I struggled with procrastination, how I couldn't handle the pressure and she recommended that I get assessed for ADHD. Now, I had suspended I had ADHD for years, but I didn't want to bring it up myself. I didn't want to seem like hypochondriac, or an attention whore, and after all, I had told so many people about my struggles and they never suspended ADHD. But I was relieved she brought it up and I had an "excuse" to get assessed. I was professionally diagnosed with ADHD soon after and happily went to my psychiatrist with my brand new diagnosis, I was full of hope that I would finally be "fixed". She basically told me she couldn't help me because she didn't know a lot about adhd. She prescribed me a very low dosage of Strattera (10 mg) and recommend me a specialist. I called the specialist, but they told me they couldn't give me an appointment and I should call in a few months, maybe it would be possible then.

It was july, and over the course of summer I decided I would try university again. Maybe if I was medicated for ADHD, I would actually be able to study. In fall of 2020, I started a brand new program, something very different from what I had done before.

I realized pretty quickly that the Strattera wasn't helping so I found a private ADHD specialist. I was extremely excited for the appointment. Again I thought "I only have to get through these few weeks, then I will finally get proper treatment" I didn't get proper treatment. He prescribed me more Strattera, which didn't help. The next appointment was a month after the first and again, I was excited. I was sure thia time he would fix me. I was sure after that appointment I wouldn't have to suffer anymore. But again, despite me saying I wanted to try something different, and that Strattera was not helping at all, he prescribed more Strattera.

Then university was getting really stressful, I had exams before Christmas, I was frustrated about him not listening to me. I started having suicidal thoughts again, I even relapsed with self harm, it had been months since the last time. But I more or less got through it in a piece, I even passed the exams (surprisingly), and was again looking forward to the next psychiatrist appointment after the Christmas vacation.

Strattera wasn't doing nothing, but it was not doing anything helpful. Basically, it made me feel quite relaxed, chill, less stressed. Which sounds good at first. But in order to get anything done, I rely on negative motivation. Basically, if I'm not panicking over possibly failing an exam, I'm just simply not going to study. So Strattera took the tiny bit of self-discipline and motivation that I had away and replaced it with a "idgaf"-attitude.Of course I told the psychiatrist. But can you guess what he did? Bingo, he upped the Strattera dosage. Again.

Then I had a second appointment with a new therapist, an ADHD specialist for adults. I told her how he did not care what I told him about Strattera and she was extremely upset and said that I can't let myself be treated like that. I needed to call him immediately and yell at him until he does something actually useful. I was baffled. I am not a confrontational person at all and I had never even considered actually arguing with a doctor. Yes I know, it sounds stupid in hindsight, but even after all that I had experienced, I still naively thought the professionals know best.

Okay so I called him. unsuccessful. I texted him. he ignored me. He had ignored my texts telling him that I was actually worse even before that last appointment, even though he told me to contact him with any concerns, and said that he prefered texts best, I thought he was maybe busy or something and didn't think much of it, but then he was ignoring my calls and texts. I was basically ghosted by a s

psychiatrist.

Okay I thought, then I'll simply go to someone else. To my suprise I got an appointment really quickly. I knew this wasn't a good sign, because good psychiatrists, if there even are any, don't have appointments free that soon.

But still, I had hope. And was of course disappointed again. I went to her with a professional ADHD diagnosis, but for her, that wasn't good enough. She had the audacity to tell me I needed another diagnosis from her psychologist friend who, by the way, has his office in a town over an hour away. She refused to treat me at all until I got that second diagnosis. Now,. I went to her out of pure desperation, out of knowing I simply could not go on like this any longer. Because I needed treatment quickly. And she told me she wouldn't give me that. I couldn't keep a few tears from escaping my eyea, she noticed and said very condescendingly "you don't have to cry, that's normal procedure". I tried my best to fight the tears, but as soon as I left her office, I started bawling my eyes out in the middle of town

And then I knew I was done. I had tried and tried again to get help, and I had not gotten it, I had not been listened to. Something in me snapped right in front of that office building.

I went home and threw my medication in the trash. Sure, it's bad to quit cold turkey like that, but honestly I don't care. I'm done. I'm done with psychiatry, I'm done with doctors. I have had the patience of a saint, but enough is enough. That was yesterday. And today I flipped a coin, twice, once for the psychiatrist and once for the new therapist. It told me to quit both of them, so I did.

I'm done with the mental health industrial complex. It has not helped me in all those years. I have only been sedated. Fuck psychiatry, fuck psychiatrists. Maybe I am simply meant to be miserable. I'll probably drop out of uni again, I thought I would be able to do it with treatment, but I did not get treatment, and I simply cannot do it this way. I've already attempted suicide because of academic pressure twice. Maybe I'll just have to live a miserable life working a low-paying job until I'm sad enough to finally actually kill myself. I'll probably always be a wreck, but at least I won't be a sedated wreck any longer. I'll be free, until I will be free for real.

Thank you for reading all this. I know it was a lot, but I needed to get it off my chest. Thank you.

#anti psychiatry #anti psych #antipsych #mental health industrial complex #long post #tw #cw

22 notes · View notes

ksbwnotes · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9, Part 1

Ahhhh...poor son of a bitch.

1. Heyyyyy, green tape

Hmmmn, Koogi seems to use green a lot...is that just more common a color for duct tape in Korea? But thing is, her main outfit for Bum is green tones. And he likes froggies, which are green.

Also, we never do see Sangwoo use this tape with CEO daughter girl (just ropes, a cloth for her mouth, and this weird metal thing to cover her eyes). Or with Bum, for that matter (I only saw it so far used with Koogi’s illustrations, which are a different matter altogether...I might be mistaken, I won’t skip to that part, but Sangwoo might have used it on Bum in the last chapters, which could signify how far his mentality has deteriorated).

But this guy is different. Sangwoo has no emotional attachment to him. The duct tape could be, in a way, signifying how worthless this person is to Sangwoo. That he’s nothing more than a box full of unsavory memories he would rather tape shut forever and throw away to rot.

2. Ooohp. Bastard’s bringing out his iconic apron

Sangwoo the butcher.

But this is something new that we haven’t seen before. Again, Sangwoo has never once wore this with Bum. So that means Sangwoo truly has no intentions of going easy on this guy. Blood is going to be pretty much spurting every-the-fuck-where.

So even though Sangwoo doesn’t consciously plan to kill someone, he has his habits and ideas down to a pat so that once he does get into that territory, he can more or less get right down to it. Sangwoo seems to do what he can to ‘separate’ himself from his atrocious acts, but also fulfilling an ‘aesthetic’ that fits with the atrocity he has become.

Like, that apron. Too risky to wear regular clothes, so apron is the next best thing and can act as a barrier of some sort once the blood goes flying. It’ll reduce how much splatters onto his skin and how much of his body he has to actually clean. It’s also just keep things less gross and more sanitary that way lol.

3. I am the type to find this funny and really be amused by Sangwoo’s smartass-ness

I suck at being a smartass and I can’t do it, so I really appreciate it whenever someone else can, even if it’s mean lol. But if it’s mean, it’s a guilty pleasure for me, like right now. x’D

4. Honestly, Sangwoo, how did you get yourself into this situation...

Oh! So he was able to get out of the blow job. Nice. The guy was actually respectful. If Sangwoo were sane, he’d understand this and just run away instead of luring this guy in to kill him.

But, really, why did Sangwoo put himself into this position? I don’t have anything foolproof as evidence, but I really don’t think Sangwoo is the type who actually needs to kill at specific intervals as an outlet.

If anything, Sangwoo has a more...instinctual response to sexual situations, like Bum. For Bum, he becomes hyper-aroused and zeroes in on the pleasure to a point that it overrides his more logical line of thinking. The “he’s a killer I should be scared” becomes “it feels so good and nothing else can exist but this pleasure”.

For Sangwoo, he has two modes. The first one is passive, where he’s just following his partner’s whims and saying that he’s enjoying things but he’s actually just powerless to resist. It’s his instinctual reaction after being forced to just...take his mom’s advances. He feels empty, like a doll that is just meant to be used and taken for pleasure. It’s no better than being a corpse that is fulfilling another’s necrophilic tendencies.

The second mode, I believe, came to be as a self-defense mechanism to the first mode. In order to avoid ever feeling like that, he is in control of everything. He has complete dominance over his partner. In a way, the extreme violence is the only way he can genuinely feel pleasure because he’s ‘safe’. He can literally go one way or the other, his trauma has made it impossible for him to have any other mode than ‘docile’ or ‘predator’.

5. Well, even without the possibility of murdering someone, Sangwoo choosing an alias is no surprise

He did go into a gay bar, lol.

I also find it interesting that this is where we get a look into Bum’s thoughts. And it’s regarding Sangwoo’s alias.

Also, now I am wondering if Sangwoo ever resorted to using aliases with his other prey. Because if he had, then this does add a whole other layer of premeditation to his serial killing. Even if he’s not purposefully scouting for prey, it would at least mean he’s always prepared in the event that he comes across prey.

That is what makes Jieun such an outlier and also Sangwoo’s downfall in terms of getting caught. Jieun knows Sangwoo personally. There is a connection between them. And her disappearance could easily be traced back to him. Sangwoo isn’t an idiot. He knows how to pick and choose his prey and he probably makes sure to never make it so that the prey can call him by name.

That is also what makes Bum such an interesting outlier. Because Sangwoo is risking A LOT just to keep him--someone who knows Sangwoo’s real name and actually has witnessed his personal life, both in the outside world and behind closed doors. Sangwoo chose him over the girl. Sangwoo broke his legs, not only to keep Bum from escaping, but to keep Bum with him.

This does suggest that Sangwoo is not serial killing for the thrill of it (at least, not just for that), but because he’s in search for something that could replace the kills. Sangwoo doesn’t want a pile of dead bodies under his feet--he wants one alive body to stay by his side and love him, in spite of those dead bodies.

6. ....cute motherfucker

Koogi, I resent you so much for making him this cute...

Honestly though, it just strikes me how Sangwoo keeps trying to keep on a carefree and happy facade even during times like these. We do later see him doing that as a habit as a child, so it fits that he does that on steroids during his adult years, especially considering the things he does. I’ll refer back to this when we get to Jieun’s death scene.

7. Shows of weakness

Ah damn I’m going to have to revisit this part. I have a lot of thoughts on it, but I’m too sleep deprived to actually make sense of it. But this part is important in understanding Sangwoo’s mentality and the ways he tries to train Bum to fit a certain image.

Aaaaaand today is a new day!! So going forth:

During the times Bum showed fear and was trembling, I do think a major part of why Sangwoo hates it so much is because it reminds him of how much of a monster he is. But I also think it’s because it reminds him of his mom, which he does say about Bum’s trembling. Because no matter what happened to his mom, she never learned her lesson. If she were able to change, then Sangwoo’s childhood would be less painful.

But Bum being quiet and looking scared, but still able to meet Sangwoo’s eyes...that reminds Sangwoo of what he was while with his parents. And even though Sangwoo does hate himself--to a point where he doesn’t want to change because he has no belief he can be better--I do think he’s grieving for that child who had no clue that things will just get worse and worse from there.

Especially since, from what I’m assuming, he knew how to manipulate his image so that he could avoid being beaten and locked up like his mother. So he would hold more respect towards his conditioned response versus his mother’s conditioned response. He probably refused to admit to himself how he felt back then, because obviously that’s a cruel thought to have and Sangwoo’s level of empathy was still average to high at the time. But it still doesn’t erase his resentment towards her inability to be better (I think this also contributed to why Sangwoo presumably felt ‘free’ after his first kill).

I think I’ll have a better grasp over my thoughts once we get to Jieun’s death >_<

8. *opens mouth, then silently closes it*

That first sentence probably is not meant to sound the way Sangwoo makes it sound. xD Which is a bit too gay for someone who firmly claims he is wholly hetero.

Oh actually this is funny. Since the only other person in the basement is a guy, the card dude probably thinks Sangwoo really is gay or internalized-antigay or something. But the truth is a lot more complex and sinister than what it appears to be on the surface.

9. Ooooooh, high stakes indeed

Lol, this does drive home the idea to me that Sangwoo is really pissed at Bum. Because, again, he would’ve never went to that gay bar had it not been for Bum. So, in a way, even though Sangwoo internally knows Bum isn’t the one going out in a body bag, this instillation of fear is a punishment for making him question his sexuality in a way that triggered Sangwoo’s trauma. Because there is literally no safe way for Sangwoo to explore his sexuality considering his past and his current lifestyle.

On the other end of the spectrum, I wonder how Bum is feeling about this. He probably genuinely believes that Sangwoo is genuinely putting Bum’s life on the line, in a way that if he fails the card game, he’ll die. Like. I definitely would. No matter what past form of affection Sangwoo showed, if he says he’ll kill me, I would full-heartedly be like “Yeah. Yeah, I don’t doubt you, hun.”

And, still, Bum knows better now than to complain or beg. Because unlike his mother, despite his own mental issues, Bum can be trained and that is why Sangwoo keeps him around.

10. Where do you come up with these things, you bastard

I mean, seriously, he has so many ideas on how to break a person. These are more psychopathic than sociopathic tendencies, I think, so that’s why Sangwoo right now, is a high-functioning sociopath.

11. Oh my fkkn god tho, this smart boi XD

Or maybe I’m just dumb and have no clue how to play cards.

Or maybe Sangwoo has been spending time with Bum playing cards.

Or maybe Bum is just good at cards and has spent his time practicing them.

Either way, the fact that Bum is able to fkkn pay attention during these times shows that his own trauma and mental issues have no bearing on how smart he actually is. He doesn’t have strong observation skills and is slow to understand people, but that’s more of a natural character trait, even if it is more emphasized by his mental disorders...mmmn, I do kinda wonder if Bum could have some traits shared with autism but I’m too neruotypical and untrained to say whether or not he does.

12. No seriously, we have creative Sangwoo here with this card game from hell...

...Then we have Bum here able to pull out logical conclusions like his mind is clear despite the immense anxiety and pressure of the situation. There’s a reason why Bum is still alive. For some reason, the longer Bum is stuck in his situation, the more

13. Seriously, I could stab him in the eye for being so cute despite being revolting, it’s not RIGHT KOOGI

Stab stab stab stab

14. It probably doesn’t mean much, but I still can’t help but point out how Sangwoo is making sure to be close to Card!dude and facing Bum

This would be the most logical choice since it will ensure his victim doesn’t try to escape. And even if he does, he can quickly do shit like pulling back his hair if he tries to be ‘bratty’. Also, being behind someone like this is meant to represent a menacing appearance and being the ‘controller’ behind the scenes. Sangwoo has the upperhand since card!dude can’t see him and Sangwoo can do whatever he wants to the guy.

But this also puts Sangwoo and Bum on more equal ground. Sort of like “partners in crime” because they can face each other and communicate via body language. In a way, Sangwoo can help Bum or make Bum do things, influencing his next move. While, at the same time, keeping a literal eye on Bum but without the upperhand he has on card!dude--because Bum can also keep an eye out on him.

15. I’d probably laugh if I were Sangwoo too lol

I bet you Sangwoo didn’t expect Bum to actually get the goddamn ace. The fact that Bum is this fkkn lucky is indicative of how Bum is lucky enough to even be alive at this point. Bum has been able to avoid his ‘fate of death’ over and over again that, honestly, the sheer disbelief of it is ridiculous. But it’s also like Sangwoo is saying ‘Of course you’d get the goddamn ace. Of course you would, you little shit, why am I even still surprised by you at this point’.

In a way, Sangwoo might also be thinking that ‘Huh, it’s like I meant to mess with the cards so that’d they be in your favor.’ But of course, he can’t have that because Bum being ‘too’ happy about things means he won’t be able to control Bum. So, for Bum��s case, he’s doing a second round to train Bum further, rather than to fuck with him before he kills him (like what he’s doing with card!dude).

Other than that, this is also indicative of just how well Bum is dealing with the anxiety of this moment. Card!dude might have done better (though he can’t have that much control over the cards) under normal circumstances, but between the both of them, Bum is actually calm enough to think things through. It says a lot about his capabilities lol. It makes me wonder what kind of person he could’ve been had he been raised well.

ALSO, AGAIN WITH YOU BEING CUTE SANGWOO. NO. ESPECIALLY NOT UNDER THESE CIRCUMSTANCES YOU ASSHOLE. STOP IT.

16. Lol, even though this is a throwaway line, I think this is indicative of who Sangwoo has already chosen

This is really like a “come on, partner in crime, get up to my level here and let’s fuck with this fucker together”. But the thing is, Bum is just as much a victim as this guy. There is literally no way for Bum to think any other way but Sangwoo fucking with both of them, not just card!dude.

Because the thing is, if Bum forgot himself and reacted the same way as card!dude, Sangwoo would kill him, along with card!dude.

But yeah, it does make me think of how Sangwoo would’ve reacted if card!dude actually won. How would his script go? Would he still do a practice round? Or would that have been enough for Sangwoo, and he would’ve skipped to the next part of his plan?

I don’t think this second round was something Sangwoo expected. And that really drove home to him how Bum keeps surpassing his expectations again and again.

17. *wince* Oohp.

The trembling and slight protest. Definitely not what Sangwoo wants to see. I can’t blame Bum for responding like this, BECAUSE A FKKN SERIAL KILLER IS PRETTY MUCH TRYING TO SCREW HIM OVER, but at the same time, he should know better than to respond this way.

I also do think, other than the threat to his life, Bum is perceiving this as Sangwoo ‘choosing’ card!dude over Bum. It’s like a rejection and that probably hits Bum’s rejection sensitivity. If it was just a threat to his life, Bum would probably be able to still stay silent at this point (uh, most likely not because again, life is on the line, but still maybe). However, there’s also this sense that Sangwoo doesn’t actually want him to live--that the card game is just an excuse to kill Bum.

18. think it says a lot that Sangwoo still responds to Bum’s protest via ‘patting’ him on the head rather than pulling on his hair.

If card!dude was more intuitive, then he probably would’ve noticed that something was off in the way Sangwoo was treating Bum. More leniently. Because any small variation in treatment is not a promising outlook for card!dude.

But the thing is--now that I know how the ending is--Sangwoo is just doing this as a way to fuck with the other dude. Actually he was probably proud of Bum winning so that he could further fuck with card!dude and make him taste the bitterness of false hope. Sort of like a “heh, you did better than I thought you would”.

Sangwoo does want him to live because this card game is not about ‘who’ to choose. Sangwoo has already chosen Bum. This is just a matter of how much satisfaction Sangwoo can get against his revenge on the other guy.

Though, Bum is genuinely worried because why would he think that lol. There is also this thing where Sangwoo chose to kill a pretty girl and keep him, a skinny male loser, alive. So from his stand point, Sangwoo’s choices are difficult to pinpoint. Bum also won’t see himself as more ‘attractive’ than card!dude, so he most likely was scared that Sangwoo’s choices has changed once again and he would be thrown away like CEO daughter.

19. Hmmmn...

Now that card!dude has been given a second chance and can see Sangwoo’s willingness as a show of ‘favorability’, he has more control over his anxiety (which I do think is different from Bum, who has this sort of ‘on-off’ button for his anxiety, versus card!dude who seems to have more of a ‘reduction-enlargement’ slider). He probably feels more confident.

And this is probably exactly what Sangwoo wanted, because then that will make the fall so much sweeter, the look of horror that much more gratifying.

20. Really, and there were people who wanted Sangwoo and Bum to have a happily ever after

The psychological warfare Sangwoo is putting onto Bum is so brutal that it’s really difficult to keep reading. Again, Koogi making it so that Sangwoo got better, then got worse when he realized he couldn’t handle what it means to ‘improve’, and then die...it made me respect this work so much, because nothing about this is romanticized. And furthermore, Bum didn’t die, but at the same time, he was scars that will never be able to heal. His mentality was worse in the end than it was in the beginning, which is a goddamn feat because there wasn’t much left for him to fall.

Another alternative that I saw float around was Bum and Sangwoo dying together and...no. No no no. That’s too romanticized as well. And Bum being left alive while Sangwoo dies has this very...god I don’t even know how to explain. It’s not a happy ending. For me, there’s no vindication for it because I got to see just how deeply Sangwoo was suffering, which made it impossible for me to enjoy his death despite every incredibly shitty thing he has done. It was literally just...a masterpiece. One that showed just how, really, there are places on earth that truly have no hope and the suffering only ends with death.

I usually never like nihilistic stories like these. Like seriously, there’s a reason why I avoided Killing Stalking like the plague. But after so many stories where things have a happy ending just because they MUST, it doesn’t only get tiring, but destructive for me.

And Killing Stalking is special to me because instead of showing that everything was hopeless in the beginning just BECAUSE life is hopeless, period...it shows that things could’ve gone differently because Sangwoo and Bum were never truly without hope in the beginning. Sangwoo wasn’t a classic serial killer. Bum just needed better guidance. They just needed to be given a goddamn chance, like so many people in the world in general.

Instead of outright nihilism, it’s more in line with existentialism and that things reach the point of no return if nothing is changed. Or that if there are changes, it’s the type of change that makes things worse and doesn’t allow for healing.

Anyways, I don’t quite have all my thoughts on this together, so this is something I have to revisit once I’m done reading KS.

#chapter 9 #volume 1 #again this became too long #these two need to be less...just less gdi

3 notes · View notes

meloncubedradpops · 4 years

Text

Repo! the Corona Opera: Part Two Fascist Boogaloo

Greetings fellow Repo! fans,

Here is my second installment of a series of three essays where I compare our contemporary times with the movie Repo! the Genetic Opera. My first piece detailed the similarities between the two worlds, and turns out, I have an awful lot to talk about still. I ended my last article by posing the question, "What went wrong in this dystopia to normalize the concept of death due to nonpayment?" No doubt, this movie is incredibly outrageous on many fronts, particularly within the dynamics of the Largo family. As mentioned in the previous piece, I highlighted the pervasiveness of GeneCo's power and influence towards the citizens in the city (is it called city of GeneCo? GeneCo-land? GenCity? An actual city in Italy??).

People who write stories often bend the rules to make their story compelling. Be it exaggerating social interactions, creating scientifically impossible scenarios, or even allowing the characters to use technology that does not exist yet. I admit the creators of Repo! applied all those tactics and more, which makes the parallels I draw that much more surreal. I want to acknowledge this before I dive deeper because yes, I truly think it would be impossible to have a company who can offer cheap and dirty surgeries with an absence of debilitating class action lawsuits resulting from botched procedures, infection, or their body rejecting the organ transplant. And while I admit Zydrate does not exist, yet, but we do have a long history with opioid abuse. If you asked me when I first watched the movie if I think the Largo family could be a mirror of an ultra wealthy family from real life, I would have politely disagreed with you. But times right now are freaking weird. A single day does not go by where something completely outlandish is blasted all over the news, particularly in the United States.

In my last essay I pointed out examples where the citizens in GenCity live a life after experiencing a mass extinction event. Besides the technological anachronisms, society and GeneCo have an uncomfortably close relationship with each other. GeneCo is not merely a corporation that offers healthcare and surgeries, it has an unyielding power politically too. I argue that GenCity is ran by a fascist government that is controlled and operated by GeneCo.

If you're not a person who is super familiar with fascism, basically it's an extremist right wing government philosophy. I find it interesting that in the song "21st Century Cure", Graverobber says: Industrialization has crippled the globe. Although plagues, war, and other hardships existed before industrialization, that paradigm of change accelerated the imbalances between man and nature. Fascism did not exist until after World War I, after all. Between the world war itself and the Spanish Flu of 1918, there was a lot of pain and suffering felt all over the world. Fascists took advantage of vulnerable populations and asserted that their political party is the only correct party, and those who oppose are considered an enemy. Historically fascist governments have blurred the lines between the spheres of what's considered "public" and "private", and often danced harmoniously with business allies in pursuit of profit. As an effect, fascist governments have required citizens to foot the bill of a private company's losses. With enough propaganda, fascist governments will have you believing that this is ultimately for the betterment of everyone. And if you give them enough time, they will normalize terrible acts against humanity that barely make a peep, if the truth even comes to light.

For the rest of this essay, I will be highlighting examples in the Repo! movie that correspond with characteristics of fascism, using political scientist Dr. Lawrence Britt's The 14 Characteristics Of Fascism, which was published in the spring 2003 issue of Free Inquiry magazine.

The 14 characteristics are:

1. Powerful and Continuing Nationalism: Fascist regimes tend to make constant use of patriotic mottos, slogans, symbols, songs, and other paraphernalia. Flags are seen everywhere, as are flag symbols on clothing and in public displays.

The world surrounding GeneCo occupies itself with the concept that this incorporated area derives a sense of nationalism, in the absence of much dissent. If you see below, there is an advertisement on the top right corner that says, "Your Birthplace for a new Heredity". GeneCo is not just a company that sells organs and surgeries. It is its own incorporated city. This ad, combined with GeneCo's relentless messaging that not only did this company save humanity, you must conform to the idea that only GeneCo can provide you the experience of feeling clean, safe, and perfect.

2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights Because of fear of enemies and the need for security, the people in fascist regimes are persuaded that human rights can be ignored in certain cases because of "need." The people tend to look the other way or even approve of torture, summary executions, assassinations, long incarcerations of prisoners, etc.

Being able to legally repossess someone's organs because they didn't make their organ payments is about as disdainful as you can get. Nathan has a whole song called "Legal Assassin", and there doesn't appear to be many laws that would at least have the pretense that these repossessions are remotely humane. There are multiple instances in the movie where Nathan approaches a client who is already restrained, panicked, and powerless. From what I can gather from the media in Gencity, GeneCo proliferates the idea that the company would be dysfunctional if people could get financed surgeries and let those payments go to collections. When you're a mega corporation, they let you do it.

3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause: The people are rallied into a unifying patriotic frenzy over the need to eliminate a perceived common threat or foe: racial , ethnic or religious minorities; liberals; communists; socialists, terrorists, etc.

While the career of a Graverobber is certainly creepy and macabre, the idea that they could be executed without a jury of their peers is especially strange. After I created my last essay, my friend Veronica pointed out, that per "A Needle Into A Bug", one of the deleted scenes from the movie, that street zydrate is not actually derived from the brains of dead people. He extracts zydrate from bugs that nest inside the craniums of dead people, which in my opinion is a huge distinction. So who is he really stealing from? Is it morally okay to dig up a corpse to get drug goo to sell to junkies? Absolutely not, and the idea is incredibly disrespectful for the dead. And while I am sure there are graverobbers in this world that likely steal things like jewelry from corpses, I still wouldn't justify being executed extrajudicially.

Further, Graverobber's relationship with the Largo family has me believing even more that GeneCo needs them more than their media campaign can justify. Rotti has access to incredible surveillance of the city, so you would think he would eliminate anyone who enabled Amber Sweet's addiction. My theory is GeneCo knows that street zydrate may result in more surgery sales. However they want to continue making money selling the lab-grown stuff. So the end justifies the means, if we can associate graverobbers and those who use street zydrate as criminals, we can continue believing that "they" are the enemies setting everyone else back.

4. Supremacy of the Military: Even when there are widespread domestic problems, the military is given a disproportionate amount of government funding, and the domestic agenda is neglected. Soldiers and military service are glamorized. AND 12. Obsession with Crime and Punishment: Under fascist regimes, the police are given almost limitless power to enforce laws. The people are often willing to overlook police abuses and even forego civil liberties in the name of patriotism. There is often a national police force with virtually unlimited power in fascist nations.

GeneCo employs a private police force to carry out law enforcement. They patrol around a graveyard, a quasi-public space carved out for those who mourn. And because there is pervasive video surveillance, Rotti can demand that they do his bidding at any time. An example is his order to murder the repo man. We aren't aware of any sort of involvement beyond the borders of GenCity, but even the concept of a graveyard being a warzone is a special kind of hell.

5. Rampant Sexism- The governments of fascist nations tend to be almost exclusively male-dominated. Under fascist regimes, traditional gender roles are made more rigid. Opposition to abortion is high, as is homophobia and anti-gay legislation and national policy.

Genterns! On the surface, it’s pretty cool that there is a large volume of female medical professionals who are skilled enough to carry out surgeries. However behind the sexy veneer is the reality that Genterns are not set up for success. They are not provided adequate PPE and work under non-sterile conditions. In the "Mark it Up" scene, one is killed by Luigi. Imagine going to medical school for years and years, only to be tasked with the job of organ warehouse worker. Then on one of your shifts you are stabbed to death because the CEO's son bumped into you while you were working. Not only that, but you are also expected to dress proactively for the purpose of selling the GeneCo product and experience.

6. Controlled Mass Media: Sometimes to media is directly controlled by the government, but in other cases, the media is indirectly controlled by government regulation, or sympathetic media spokespeople and executives. Censorship, especially in war time, is very common. GeneCo has a monopoly on the media of the city. Politics, entertainment, healthcare, you name it, they have a direct stake in, and control over, the media. We do see from time-to-time tabloid clippings of the Largo family. But generally speaking, GeneCo puts a lot of effort in upholding their image. The best evidence is Blind Mag's story. She is a singer who acquired the ability to see after a GeneCo cornea surgery. And while she clocked into work day in and day out, singing and advertising for GeneCo for 17+ years, her departure resulted in Rotti murdering her. But why? Was he afraid of the things she would say? Rotti knew he was terminally ill when she declared her resignation, and yet killing her on stage is somehow less of a scandal?

7. Obsession with National Security: Fear is used as a motivational tool by the government over the masses. Fascist countries use fear as a tactic to keep the masses scared and compliant. The universe of Repo! is one filled with tragedy. Millions of people have died. I would imagine that the series of events that would lead to the creation and success of GeneCo was contingent upon people being scared for their lives. While dealing with the coronavirus, I find myself constantly checking my temperature, keeping my distance from people, and wearing a mask out in public. The human spirit is resilient, which is how we have survived so long. However sociopaths smell our fear and use it against us. The city of GeneCo is surrounded by plots upon plots of graveyards, signifying the carnage left after their public health crisis. I have a strong feeling that GeneCo was able to harness the threat of whatever caused the massive organ failure epidemic and as an effect created a power vacuum.

8. Religion and Government are Intertwined: Governments in fascist nations tend to use the most common religion in the nation as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Religious rhetoric and terminology is common from government leaders, even when the major tenets of the religion are diametrically opposed to the government's policies or actions.

This one is going to be a reach, particularly because there is an absence of religion in this story. I don't think religion would be on the creator's of Repo!'s purview, and honestly I don't blame them. If you look at the imagery of the story, however, it is very gothic. We have no idea if religion survives, and if it does, to what extent. I would imagine that people still have spiritual needs, and I argue that the GeneCo Opera is an example of how they get that fulfilled.

"If you want it, baby, GeneCo's got it"

The GeneCo opera is not your typical opera experience. GeneCo specifically tells their customers to "testify". People are singing in unison, praising GeneCo. Clearly GeneCo has taken several human rituals and blended them together to create an over-the-top entertainment experience that seeks to advertise their company behind the testimonials of its patrons. The benefits of the opera for GeneCo, as a fascist entity, are two-fold: have people associate their most nirvana moments with an experience only GeneCo can offer (zydrate and surgery), and distract them with religious-like concerts so they won't question their neighbors being murdered on the streets by that very same company.

9. Corporate Power is Protected: The industrial and business aristocracy of a fascist nation often are the ones who put the government leaders into power, creating a mutually beneficial business/government relationship and power elite. AND 13. Rampant Cronyism and Corruption: Fascist regimes almost always are governed by groups of friends and associates who appoint each other to government positions and use governmental power and authority to protect their friends from accountability. It is not uncommon in fascist regimes for national resources and even treasures to be appropriated or even outright stolen by government leaders.

Throughout the entire movie, the Largo family is front and center. We know Rotti is terminally ill, and he utilizes his final moments to tie up loose ends in his life. His children feel entitled to his estate and the company of GeneCo. At no point do we see Rotti consult with a board of directors at GeneCo, a private fiduciary firm, or with any government entity. I would describe the company of GeneCo to be a weird combination of an aristocracy, government body, and corporation. His children commit crimes with no recourse or justice. Rotti kills the doctor who tells him he's dying. Luigi kills multiple people throughout the movie. In one of the opening scenes, we see a photograph showing Pavi is cutting off a woman's face. In the credits we see Amber's body guards lying dead on the floor during her press statement. What sort of corruption took place to make these occurrences so prevalent and normalized?

10. Labor Power is Suppressed: Because the organizing power of labor is the only real threat to a fascist government, labor unions are either eliminated entirely, or are severely suppressed.

We aren't super privy to the machinations that make this city functional. But there is a clear stratification that has sustained itself long enough that healthcare is not a right in this city, and those who can't pay for necessary healthcare can finance it. In a just society, if we have the means to save humanity, we can figure out a way to pay for it. Be it taxes on the most wealthy or other cost-saving measures, if there is a will, there is a way. However if you give a company enough power and money, it will do everything it can to stay on top. The best examples I can think of would be Nathan and Blind Mag's tenuous career at GeneCo. Neither really wanted the job they were given, but they were forced into those positions by Rotti. Had Bling Mag belonged to a entertainment union, would she have had more protections? Would a proper investigation into the murder of Marni result in justice being served, and the opportunity for Nathan to live a better adjusted life? Rotti masterfully manipulates situations that create powerless outcomes for his employees.

11. Disdain for Intellectuals: Fascist nations tend to promote and tolerate open hostility to higher education, and academia. It is not uncommon for professors and other academics to be censored or even arrested. Free expression in the arts is openly attacked, and governments often refuse to fund the arts We don't see any particular evidence that GeneCo is currently hostile to higher education or academia. What we do know is the technologies of this world are akin to something we'd see out of the 20th century. However GeneCo is advanced enough to synthesize usable organs. In my last essay, I drew parallels to today by highlighting that there may have been a "brain drain" of intellectualism as a result of academics dying from their public health crisis. Outside of the opera house, we don't see many examples of art in this world. Maybe this is what happens when a government stops funding programs it deems frivolous or challenges the status quo?

14. Fraudulent Elections: Sometimes elections in fascist nations are a complete sham. Other times elections are manipulated by smear campaigns against or even assassination of opposition candidates, use of legislation to control voting numbers or political district boundaries, and manipulation of the media. Fascist nations also typically use their judiciaries to manipulate or control elections.

Based off context clues in the movie, we know that there is a group of voting citizens who help determine whether or not a company can repossess financed organs that are passed due on their payments. We don't know who makes these votes, the election process, or anything like that. So it is hard to say if GeneCo goes beyond their media campaign convincing voters to keep repossessions legal. Despite this lack of knowledge, I would argue that GeneCo wields incredible power regarding the course of elections for laws that apply to them. Okay, you want to pass a law to make organ repossession illegal? Fine, we don't have to offer products on a payment plan. The very threat of being able to take away healthcare is something right wing governments loveeee doing.

Speaking of elections, the United States 2020 general election is approaching. Now that I argued the ways that GeneCo is fascist, I will tie together ideas from both of these essays into a final piece that I hope you will like. If you enjoyed this article, please send it to all your Repo! friends.

#repo! the genetic opera #repo #Fascism #halloween #election #geneco #politics #horror #2020 #coronavirus #zydrate #musicals

46 notes · View notes

melodiesofblueroses · 4 years

Text

𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯

→ 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

» 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: Simeon finds himself stuck in a dilemma as he falls for the human exchange student, a love forbidden by the Celestial Realm.

» 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: Angst

» 𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: ~1.5k

» 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: f!reader

When Simeon first heard that he was to attend a special exchange program from none other than the Devildom itself, he didn’t really think much of it. While he did think it would be rather exciting, visiting the other realm and all as well as reuniting with some of his old friends, it never once crossed his mind that he might find himself falling for a human. Humans were, after all, off-limits for angels. The two were supposed to maintain a professional relationship if one could even call it that. Angels were created as guides for the humans down below and were generally expected to distance themselves and keep their overall existence unknown, at least for the most part. Any angel that was to disobey was to be punished accordingly, mainly indicated by their fall from grace. An angel who loved a human was no longer God’s servant, instead serving the very human they fell for as opposed to their creator.

Simeon wasn’t even sure how he grew feelings for her in the first place. When he first stepped foot into the Devildom, he made it very clear to himself that under no circumstances would Simeon fall for one of the human students. The first one he met was Solomon, and the two had hit it off rather instantly. They could easily share a good conversation or two, and that gave Simeon confidence that he indeed wouldn’t get too close with the other human transfer student. If the other student was anything like Solomon, then a crisis would be averted. But things didn’t work out that way. The first time he met her was in one of her classes as Diavolo introduced him and Luke, and something in his heart told him that this human was special. Whether it was his emotions or angelic instincts, Simeon brushed off that feeling as him being optimistic to make another human friend, especially since he had been up in the Celestial Realm all these years.

However, as the two grew closer, Simeon slowly began to take notice of the tiniest of mannerisms: the way she would always play with a strand of hair when thinking, the rhythmic tapping on the tabletops she did when bored to name a few. He himself was surprised when he caught on to these quirks since he wasn’t usually that observant of others. But from the get go, he knew that this particular human was special, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

The first time he was aware of this blossoming feeling was when Satan caught him smiling at the mention of her. “I see you’re quite fond of (MC),” the blonde had teased one day during lunch. The conversation had turned into one about her shenanigans, including how she had managed to dispel a family issue and reunite the brothers while being nothing but a mere powerless human. Simeon had unconsciously smiled once the demon said her name, an action that hadn’t gone unnoticed. When Satan made that comment, Simeon felt his cheeks heat up and go rosy (and he rarely blushed so this was quite the rare event) which only made him grin.

“It’s nothing like that,” Simeon had responded with at that time. “She just seems like a special human, that’s all.” Although Satan had easily accepted that reasoning, Simeon himself didn’t seem too convinced at his own response. Did he truly have feelings for her? Truth be told, the angel never once thought about his feelings, especially since she was nothing more than a human, and therefore he had to follow the rules God had set in place. Maybe Satan was right after all. That night, he had mulled over his feelings and memories of her. He recounted the times he had spent with her thus far, including those of the retreat and her coming to him for guidance whenever she was experiencing a few problems. He recounted how her touch always seemed to linger in place for a good few hours before the sensation and warmth left and the time he thought she looked especially breathtaking in that gown at Diavolo’s ball. Simeon soon found himself longing for her presence as he became aware of his beating heart and how it skipped a beat when he thought about her soft, tender smile. At that instant, Simeon realized his true feelings on her. He had broken one of the most important rules of being an angel and fell in love with a human.

When the realization hit, Simeon was a bit fearful of what was to happen. The last time such an event happened, some of his closest friends (being the demon brothers) were kicked out of Heaven and descended into the Devildom, not before a rather cruel and vicious war broke out between them and their father. He remembered the day afterward quite vividly as some angels looked down in melancholy of having lost several members of the Realm. Seeing the aftermath and consequences of having fallen in love with a human, Simeon was afraid, although he did try to laugh it off and not be so serious about it. It wasn’t that Simeon couldn’t deal with serious events, but rather he liked to downplay the severity of such catastrophes when it revolved around him. He didn’t want to accept his feelings as fact. Simeon, more than anything else, wanted to prevent another war from breaking out. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing more of his fellow friends, especially when it would ultimately be his fault. Bearing that in mind, Simeon made a tough decision: he would distance himself from her, all until this entire exchange program was over, and he had safely returned to Heaven.

Carrying out his plan was easier said than done, however. After all, he knew that she reciprocated his feelings and also had fallen for him. Simeon saw the way she would lovingly gaze at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, a dreamy smile on her lips as she leaned into the palm of her hand and had a pair of lovestruck eyes. Although she tried her best to hide it, no human could escape from under the gaze of an angel. They were just too perceptive. She also acted a bit differently around him. She always came to him for the tiniest things, such as homework help or guidance on how to deal with a few grieving demons or which outfit would look better for that one school event that was coming up, all things she could easily go to another angel or demon for, but instead, she went to him. Simeon also noticed her subtle movements around him, such as the way she would gaze at him through her lashes, crossing and uncrossing her legs, and the way she seemed to try a bit too hard to look presentable in front of him. She also was a tad bit clingy with him, always opting for hugs and shaking his arm to get his attention, not that Simeon minded. In fact, her touches kept him grounded, and they allowed for Simeon to dream about an alternate universe where the two of them were allowed to establish an intimate relationship. They were what kept him sane on days where he felt like throwing it all away for her, thinking that these small interactions were enough.

It hurt him when he began to distance himself from her as he could clearly see how much it affected her. Simeon began to spend more time with the others and less time with her, and slowly, he would make it so that it was harder for her to contact him. It was the typical trope, really. Whenever Simeon saw her coming, he always excused himself and went somewhere else, somewhere where she wouldn’t be able to find him as easily. Of course, he would always see the frown on her face when she couldn’t find him or when she noticed that Simeon’s smiles around her always felt a bit sad and broken. She never did once say a word about it, but Simeon knew deep down that she was probably thinking about their situation and how their relationship was never meant to be. It made his heart ache, but Simeon kept telling himself that it was just for the remainder of the program. He found solace in the fact that the two could finally be together once she passed, although a grim thought. Simeon had no doubt that she would become an angel when her time came, and he sought comfort in that. When she was to become an angel and ascend to the Celestial Realm, the two could, at last, pursue a relationship, and that thought was what motivated Simeon to keep going on with his plan. The two would finally be a happy couple, spending eternity in each other’s arms up in Heaven.

#obey me shall we date #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #one shot #obey me #angst

120 notes · View notes

bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

91 Lucifer prompts

Some of my favorite quotes from my favorite devil. (Cut at 15 cause it’s long.)

Lucifer Morningstar

1 “People don’t arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning until something comes along that disabuses them of those notions.”

2 “People don’t have power over us. We give it to them.”

3 “The best thing to do is always to follow your greatest desire.”

4 “Sometimes we are what we are, and we should embrace that.”

5 “Desire shouldn’t be contained, it’s unnatural.”

6 “Why do humans think they can rectify one evil with another?”

7 “Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

8 “Believe me, there is no winning when you play by a twisted tyrant’s rules.”

9 “You shouldn’t have to change for anyone. And neither should I.”

10 “I refuse to be a scapegoat for which something I bear no responsibility. It’s a theme in my life.”

11 “Trust me, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know evil.”

12 “If you desire something, just take it.”

13 “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s desire.”

14 “What I hate more than anything is a liar, a charlatan, someone who doesn’t believe in what they say.”

15 “Hell truly hath no fury like a man/woman scorned.”

16 “No one gives us the right… we take it.”

17 “Mmm, dangerous. NAME likes.”

18 “There was immediate danger. He/she was about to leave this man/woman completely unsatisfied.”

19 “When in doubt, go with the classics. That’s what I always say.”

20 “Guilt is such a useless emotion”

21 “Take a swing and I’ll shove that so far up your ass, you’ll have splinters in your stool.”

22 “What makes us vulnerable is often right under our noses.”

23 “Now tell me, what is it that you truly desire?”

24 “Well, maybe it’s like butt stuff. Easier the second time around.”

25 “It’s always the ones you least suspect, the ones you trust the most, that hurt you. They wait until your guard is down and then wham! In my case, it was tequila.”

Chloe Decker

26 “It’s better to move forward than stay stuck in the past.”

27 “We can’t control what happens to us only how it affects us and the choices we make.”

28 “You have to stop taking responsibility for things that you can’t control.”

29 “Sometimes we get along best with the people we’re most different from.”

30 “Pull yourself together. You look like a homeless magician!”

31 “It’s really not a good day for… your… NAMEness”

32 “You don’t save a marriage by sleeping with other people.”

33 “If you go looking for loopholes, you’ll always find them.”

34 “NAME’s not another guy/gal. He’s/She’s a weirdo.”

35 “As any parent knows, the best time to get things done is when everyone else is asleep.”

36 “I wasn't afraid of you.”

37 “I don't want you to see me like this. I know it scares you.” “No, that's... that's what I was trying to tell you. I'm not... I'm not afraid of you anymore.” “You're not?” “You see, this is what I'm talking about. It's so sweet. I'm going to puke.”

38 “I miss him/her. I mean, he/she pisses me off all the time. And there are so many things about him/her that ... that I find hard to accept, but I just have to believe I can find a way. Because ... I'd rather have him/her in my life than not.” “Well, then... I think you know what you need to do.”

39 “You're different than me. You're stronger. You could have run, but you didn't. Why didn't you?”

40 “It's not like you haven't always told me the truth. You know? So ... I think, deep down, I just ... I always knew.”

41 “Let's pretend for one second that you're someone else. Someone nice, someone mature.” “Ooh, I love role-play.”

42 “What, you're just gonna leave me here? In this part of town?” “You said you wanted danger.”

43 “Please tell me I'm hallucinating.” “Well, I am dreamy, but try to contain yourself.”

44 “You step out of line one time …” “You can give me a right-good spanking, I promise.”

45 “This cannot be true. Can it? I mean ... if you knew this, why wouldn't you say something? I mean, I almost married him/her. I mean, I almost married him/her.” “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.”

46 “Oh, my God. Did the world just turn upside down? Did you just admit to being wrong?”

47 “You know, it can be scary sometimes, but ... being who you really are is never a bad idea.”

48 “I need you to stay here and watch your dad/mom.” “That's true. Without the two of us, he’s/she's defenseless.” “I don't know if I like what you're whispering about.”

49 “How long have I been out?” “Three years.” “What?!” [NAME starts laughing] “You’re such an ass.”

50 “I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up all night working, and, you know, I drank a lot of caffeine. Like, a lot.”

Mazikeen Smith

51 “If you go by someone else’s pace, it shows how much you really care.”

52 “Sometimes you have to accept when someone doesn’t feel the same way about you.”

53 “Self-worth comes from within, bitches.”

54 “I would never ask you to change. I like who you are.”

55 “Hey! No one calls my skank a skank.”

56 “Good. It's settled. Now, where do I put my knives.”

57 “Okay. One, I like to fight when I'm happy or ... horny. And, two, I really don't want to accidentally kill my best friend.”

58 “Maybe next time, I won't be around to save your ass.” “Mm! Well, that is a shame. 'Cause you and my backside used to get on very well. My front side, as well, actually.”

59 “And your name?” “NAME.” “How do you spell that?” “Surprise me.” [Later gets coffee with "WRONG NAME" on it]

60 “Everything that happened showed me exactly why I need to go back.” “I don't understand.”

Linda Martin

61 “Emotions are hard, but that’s why they make you strong.”

62 “Goodness isn’t a toy.”

63 “Sometimes we need to lose something to understand its value.”

64 “Sometimes it’s easier to make intimate issues about something bigger than yourself.”

65 “I find people who are rude usually feel powerless in their own lives. Terrified of not being in control.”

66 “Look... I know I'm not dad/mom, or partner or whatever. But I ...” “No. No, you're not. Come here. You are Uncle/Auntie NAME. And you will always ... be a member of this family.”

67 “Let's talk about what you're dealing with emotionally.” “Yeah, I really don't want to.”

68 “Why is he:she able to refuse my charms? I mean, is this thing on?” [points at him/herself] “Yes, yes. Definitely on.”

69 “How's that saying go? We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars.”

70 “Should've seen that one coming.”

Amenadiel

71 “We need the most love when we’re being most unlovable.”

72 “No matter how bad things get, the true test is how we choose to respond to the pain. We suffer, or inflict.”

73 “Cosmos are yummy.”

74 “If you really want to know if you’re a worthy romantic partner, ask yourself.”

75 “NAME. What are you doing here? Did you hurt NAME?” “Only when he/she asked me nicely.”

Ella Lopez

76 “Whenever I’m procrastinating on something, I make an appointment for myself to do it. That way, can’t back out.”

77 “You see what I'm dealing with?”

78 “Hey. No one insults my family, except for me.”

79 [high on "candy"] “I know I should be freaking out right now, but your hair is so shiny.”

80 I'm usually not into reality shows either. I prefer more, you know, scripted-content, documentaries, but... I've got a little extra time these days, so... sort of kind of watched, uh, 27 seasons in two weeks.

Dan Espinoza

81 “We all need someone to have our backs every now and then.”

82 “Ooh, lemon bars. My favorite. Mmm. Oh, man, these are amazing. Who made 'em?” “Uh, NAME did. Would you believe that hunk bakes?” [spits out the bars] “On second thought, who needs the empty calories?”

83 “Say you fall in love with a man/woman who has a cat. What are you gonna do? You accept the cat.”

84 “Are you sleeping with this idiot?” “He/She hasn't had the pleasure, unfortunately, no.”

85 “Dude, I cannot deal with your weirdness right now.”

Trixie Espinoza

86 “We’re wearing the same shirt!” [both] “Sushi shirt!” [from around the corner] “I don’t know what’s going on out there, but I hate it!”

87 “I ate it.” “Mm-hmm.” “But NAME said it was okay.” “Oh, really?” “He/She said, if you really want to do something, you should. And I really wanted to eat some chocolate cake.”

88 “Are you looking at a no-no site?” “No. Why would you think that?” “Because you put it away so fast, and you look really, really guilty.”

89 “NAME, sever their Achilles first. If they can't walk ...” “They can't betray you.”

90 “You need to get a thicker skin. Stand up for yourself, because the truth is, nobody’s gonna do it for you.” — Charlotte Richards

91 “Anybody worth dating should understand everything that makes you … you.” — Ev

#lucifer quotes #lucifer prompts #lucifer morningstar #chloe decker #mazikeen smith #trixie espinoza #dan espinoza #linda martin #ella lopez #amenadial #writing prompts #drabble prompts #dialogue prompts

105 notes · View notes

daveword1 · 3 years

Text

Three years ago I was in a serious wreck that wasn’t my fault. It resulted in three horrible back surgeries that culminated with a 12 level fusion with rods and screws. I’ve been on narcotic pain meds the whole time. I’m finally experiencing exponential improvement. The struggle ahead now is getting off the narcotics.

I’ve been through this a number of times before with over 20 abdominal surgeries over a 37 year span of time. The older I get the harder it is to kick the pills. I’m 100% dependent on them now. I intend to chronicle the journey here.

The first thing it takes is an acceptance that some uncomfortable times lay ahead. Bouts of radical anxiety and insomnia. Mental toughness is called for along with the knowledge it won’t be fatal but there might be times I’ll wish I no longer existed. My goal however is to be free of narcotics within three months. At my age (67) it’s dangerous in Covid times as narcotics impair the immune system.

I’ll be updating this blog religiously and rereading my entries to affirm my commitment. I’m open to any advice or comments along the way.

Installment Two...

I picked up a script for valium yesterday and had my first night in forever without a pain pill. Only had two pain pills this morning instead of usual three. Went five hours before taking last dose of the day of two more at noon. Four a day, down from ten or twelve just a month ago. Picking up steam.

Time for some honesty here. Countless times I’ve feigned agony in order to get my wife (THE KEEPER OF THE PILLS) to hand me up to three early. Had nothing to do with pain but more just to feel centered and normal. This is your ultimate proof you’re snared and completely dependent. This is when you’re lying constantly.

I have an observation I don’t entirely understand. When my consumption of pills was ravenous I was always adamant about getting off them. When out of necessity the amount had to be cut in half I was longing for the previous higher amount. Confused opioid receptors talking to the rest of my brain.

One thing I’m completely mortified by is the way I subtly manipulated a few others into generously sharing their pain pills. I did it by lying that doctors refused to prescribe them to me. I even intimated a few times I was suicidal because of my pain level. Lies lies and more lies. I was solely after the buzz. I’ve heard other people on pain meds awhile say they had no affinity or attraction to them. They complained such things as they kept them sleepy or caused disturbing dreams. They were the people who never finished a script. I’m one of those who gets a switch thrown in my brain immediately that tells me all I need is a steady intake of more more more.

I guess that’s the defining characteristic of an addictive personality. It must be something you’re hard wired for. I find the disease concept of addiction laughable. I’ve only known a few others like me and when we’d get pills from each other we fastidiously kept track of what we were owed back. Loan shark collection tactics weren’t out of the question.

Next installment will have the story of a younger brother who was hopelessly addicted to narcotics and his tragic end.

The Story of Brother Kenny

I had a younger brother once who enlisted in the Army. He developed back issues while stationed in Germany and was diagnosed with ankylosing spondylitis. He eventually was awarded a full service related disability which payed him $3,300 monthly in the 90’s. Of course he opted not to work.

Back then you could still do a walkin off the street to most doctors offices and leave with a generous narcotic script. Kenny claimed his back condition was unbearably painful even though I read the condition usually only caused mild discomfort. He became a prolific doctor shopper. Eventually you could never see him when he wasn’t fully under the influence of huge narcotic doses.

I visited him one day and found him a blithering idiot. I told him I expected him to be dead within two months. He was visibly shaken. Nearly two months later I found him dead on his kitchen floor in his underwear. After the funeral people came for his body I found three different prescription pain meds from no less than five doctors. I’m convinced addiction runs in families. I, however, in many accumulated years of pain management never once od’d on pain meds. Kenny wasn’t so lucky and left us at age 47.

I took a large quantity of his meds home with me and hid them in my garage. I was very distraught over his death and someone gave me xanax pills which I took too much of. I decided to try and reverse the sedation with cocaine. My son later found me unresponsive and called an ambulance. I’m told I was comatose for three days during which my brother’s funeral had to be delayed. That was my greatest humiliating moral failure I’ve never forgiven myself for. I still believe I deserve a catastrophic event as punishment. I scarred my family and took years to rebuild trust.

Continuation...

It’s six days till next pain management appointment. I’ve managed to sneak and coerce enough extra doses that I’m nursing along at 2 pills a day instead of 7. I know that if I manage to sneak more I’ll be in misery a few days before next refill. I’ll have to visit with the doctor in extreme discomfort it’ll take all I have to hide from him. Somehow that matters little to me. Soon as my wife’s attention is diverted I’ll grab extra pills. It’s what that switch in my brain compels me to do.

I’ve gotten to the point that every aspect of my life seems dependent on having narcotics onboard. Visiting family, playing guitar, picking up groceries, even having grandkids over all require narcotic doses. My life doesn’t feel at all normal without it. I’d rather spend the entire day in bed than to not be able to take pills.

I remember six years ago when we moved onto this rural street with fabulous neighbors. The first street bbq we were invited to I was in withdrawals from morphine. I drank a helluva lot of moonshine to feel comfortable in my skin. My wife had to lead me home. I later had to apologize to the host who laughed it off thankfully.

I eventually attained a few years of complete normalcy I remember well. I played music in public and was comfortable around people I didn’t know well. It was a great time. Then came a cervical fusion surgery and months later lumbar fusion after a car wreck. Back on pills I desperately needed for horrible pain. Back to the switch in my brain being thrown. I’m recovered enough now it’s an abject lie to claim I still need them. I long for the normalcy again.

A goal I have is to not take a handful of pills when I pick up next refill again. I seriously doubt I’ll attain the goal but have ascribed it as a benchmark I’ll have to meet if I’m to be successful getting off this nightmare roller coaster. I’m like a dual personality at war with myself. Neither has the power to overcome the other.

I’m waiting for a delivery of thc gummies a cousin is sending me from Michigan. I’ve used them before and had better pain control with them. I can cut pain meds dosage in half when combined with thc gummies. I intend to try a rapid taper by using thc which I could always stop with no issues. I know I’m gonna have lingering discomfort for awhile. I’ll likely end up getting xanax from my long time primary doctor for the anxiety, insomnia and restless leg that hangs around a week or two. We’ll see how this goes. Pain meds have been in my life too long. The pain from the fusion is at a level I think I can tolerate with mental toughness now. Here’s hoping.

April 22, 2021

Yeah I know... I’ve not written anything in awhile. Short whirlwind of activity. I got my accident settlement money and we bought a bus type motorhome and had a big pool installed. Also had to go out of state for a week for a family member’s funeral. That’s my excuse.

As for the pills... the last quantity prescribed was exactly half the amount of a few months back. I was still down to none by the day before the appointment just like the previous three times. Sneaking pills when my wife’s attention is diverted has become an art form. It’s compulsive behavior that embarrasses me but I seem powerless to overcome. At least the rapid tapering regimen is in full swing and being successfully adhered to. I’ll end this session by reiterating I’m tired of being snared by these fucking pills and look forward to the glorious day they are out of my psyche.

Long overdue update. In rereading this treatise I’ve realized my initial projection of being off pain pills in a few months is in serious jeopardy. The last dosage reduction caused me to hit a wall. The pain levels have increased and I’m walking like a bent over geriatric cripple again. I’m having to realize pills will apparently be in my future for an indeterminate time. That means the lies and stealthy thievery will continue. I so wish I could conquer this compulsion but the fact remains. I can’t feel normal without them, even though after so much time on them the relief is only very minimal.

I can’t stress enough how this is not where I want to be. I long for the time again when these fuckin pills are a distant memory. If not that then I long to take them responsibly. My brain won’t allow that. It isn’t even a choice available to me. The longing to simply cease to exist pops up now and again but thankfully I can’t do that to my family. I’m considering starting a podcast to address these issues. I know millions of people like me exist in this hell. I’m not sure if I could do it other than as an anonymous person. Who the fuck wants the world to know they’re stuck in this void?

#addiction

1 note · View note

writingsofmyimagination · 5 years

Text

Conjecture |7|

Yoongi x Reader

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Links to all other parts in my masterlist :)

Words:3293

Warnings: SMUT!! Domme ReaderxSub Yoongi. BDSM themes.Oral (F receiving). Slightly Soft Yoongi.

if you want to be tagged let me know :)

Reblog, Like, Comment pwwwweeasse :)

//For the second time that day you made Yoongi choke on his drink.

“You just look like you’ve received the filthiest message” Jin teased observing the pink flush Yoongi’s cheeks framing the grin plastered on his face.

“And who exactly would I receive those messages from?” he returned without hesitation with Jin going back to checking his own phone in defeat. Observing the proximity of the other boys around him he re-read the message taking more time to hang on to every last word before his concentration of his surroundings dropped completely off the radar and painted himself in your picture.

His chest already falling and rising in rapid tides trying to recover from practice, his skin slick with sweat hoping the next time it was at your doing. Your delicate fingertips tracing his every outline, down his side, up his thigh…Your nails marking his skin as you came around him.

Stop! He scolded himself feeling the stirring of his cock.

His pulse skyrocketed.

“Hey breaks over” Jungkook nudged him.

“Yeah, one sec” Yoongi replied typing in the only response he had.

-Fuck-.

Your message completely knocked the sincere talk he’d been rehearsing nervously in his mind straight to the back burner.//.

Your insides where a whirl of excitement they had you nauseous, the vocals were done and edited. You had the overwhelming excitement of a puppy; as an artist to get this rush without any clouding of doubt was rare and it was to be cherished in its entirety. You’d rushed round the apartment rendering it acceptable. The large open plan living area enabled you to observe your handiwork from all angles. Charlie’s toys were chucked into a box in the corner by the window next to his excessively large bed you’d thought would be a good idea even when the little guy lives curled into your legs or next to you given every opportunity; you spared a thought and wondered if Charlie would approve of Yoongi. You had the largest TV that would mount on the wall opposite the just as large 8 seater deep corner sofa that was worth every penny of the 3000 pound you’d spent on it. It still looked brand new apart from the corner seat which was blanketed with one of Charlie’s blankets; you didn’t have an issue with his fur anywhere but if it was at least localised it made cleaning slightly easier.

It was gone 10pm by the time the knock kick-started your heart at 50 miles an hour. It soon stopped dead when he walked in looking as equally comfy as he was gorgeous. The grey-blue hoody sat loosely on his frame, his phone weighing down the front pocket. A long lighter blue shirt peaked out over running the length of the hoody resting mid-thigh and longer at the back; his pale knees drawing your eye through the slits in the black skinnies accessorised with a red bandanna. His dark hair sat fluffy and slightly damp strands holding on to his forehead and shading his eyes making them all the more endearing. There was something off in his expression which sunk your heart to the bottom of your stomach.

You beckoned him with a graceful gesture, he slumped the large holdall which had been clinging at his side.

“The drive was okay?”

“Yeah, the hour flew by” he responded

“Because you had something good at the end of it I bet” you slowly encroached on his space.

“Mmhmm” he mumbled past the kiss he received, his lips weren’t quite as responsive as they had been.

“You okay?” the pang of concern hitting your chest harder than it needed to.

“Yeah, just can we talk a minute” the words that left him were hesitant, his hand rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish eyes unable to settle anywhere.

“Sure, go make yourself comfortable, want anything to drink?”

“No I’m good thanks” he made his way and perched on the sofa and watched you sit beside him, you tucked your legs under you and rested your palm at your temple, elbow resting on the top of the chair. He didn’t say anything, the silence stole the oxygen from the room, you decided you hated seeing him nervous or in any kind of emotional turmoil. You placed a supportive hand over his, he squeezed it and then stood and proceeded to pace in small shuttles.

“Okay so…” he began and then paused rehearsing the words in his mind for a moment. “I just have something to say before anything more happens between us, for my own sanity I need you to hear it and I don’t want to keep anything from you”

He paused again, you did nothing but wait patiently for him to continue with reassuring eyes.

“Like I really like you, and I have for years. When you stopped talking me and made it more than clear you hated me it destroyed me; there was nothing in my mind I could think of that I did and I had no idea how to fix it.”

You’d never thought until now how he’d felt after you’d so harshly cut him off, and now you did and it hurt, it hit you like a steam powered engine.

“I’d never stopped thinking about or wishing you all the success in the world that you truly deserve. When you finally agreed to collaborate I was ecstatic, I didn’t care that you’d be difficult or awkward I was just happy to get to see you up close again.” The words were rushing out almost in a babble.

“I can’t even begin to explain the relief when we realised it was a horrible misunderstanding, things became so much more natural between us again. I guess I just wanted to say how I felt before anything else happened because I can’t really do casual, I need real connections and the thought of sharing you with Wonho or anyone else destroys me. I guess I just wanted to know where you stood or if you feel…” You crashed your lips to his, eyes scrunched and weeping tears at their sides.

“I’m soo sorry I put you through all that, I had no idea. I was such an assuming jerk.” His eyes has glazed over as he willed no tears to fall. His hands were holding yours at your sides, you never wanted him to let them go, they felt so warm and perfect, interlocking fingers to their rightful place. “I’ve always liked you too” you admitted.

He eyes narrowed a sarcastic ‘really’ look.

“Okay, obviously before I hated you like a dick for years” you corrected. The pair of you sat bleary eyed gazing at each other with such focus. “Remember that night of your accident?” you asked, he replied with a small nod.

“You fought me hard on not telling your parents or anyone remotely to do with BigHit. I saw a guy who was literally willing to hide a serious shoulder injury out of fear of not being able to carry on being a trainee. For one that was incredibly stupid, but two the passion I empathised with and I saw myself in that. I wouldn’t have stayed with you the whole night at the hospital if I wasn’t fond of you and even then you were more worried about what my mum would say. From then I saw nothing but this sweet and passionate guy what wouldn’t I like about that?”

“Your mum is terrifying!” Yoongi added, his cheeks were flushed an adorable pink colour.

“You say that, she has a right soft spot for you. She calmed right down after I told her what guy I was out all night with. I’ve always wondered how you managed to get on that woman’s good side.”

“Remember your dads face” Yoongi chuckled, his laugh was infectious and you became symptomatic immediately.

“Yeah, he didn’t believe me for one second until he saw us at the hospital”

“Well you’re his little girl. What dad wouldn’t be a bit defensive at their 18 year old staying with a boy all night?”

Yoongi was right of course.

“Yeah I know, anyway back to now, of course if we’re going to do ‘us’ properly of course I wouldn’t see Wonho in that way anymore, I told you we’re just friends. I’d be yours and yours only”

A content peacefulness overtook his aura, the sweet smile that ached to be kissed. You were powerless and kissed him softly saving him from having to talk anymore about his feelings.

“Shouldn’t you be super smiley right now?” you asked perplexed as his expression had grown thoughtful and pensive.

“Sorry, just thinking of all the time we’ve missed out on, we could’ve been together all this time”

“Well I can tell you we haven’t missed anything” his gaze puzzled.

“I had a no dating clause for 2 years when I first signed and at 18 it should've bothered me but after what happened there was no way I wanted anything to do with guys” He didn’t seem to surprised at this revelation.

“Come on, come and see what I’ve worked on today! I’m sooo happy with it. Just our duet to record now.” You beamed switching back to non-serious mode and dragged him into the studio.

“It’s incredible, I love it so glad you put the vocals in from the other day” you shot him a look feeling defensive of his tone.

“But?” you asked, you were in the chair dials and knobs at your fingertips, Yoongi was leaning over your right shoulder a headphone to his ear. You tried not to get too lost in the scent of soap and just him radiating of his body; it enveloped you in cotton wool and you wanted it to be home. He leaned closer to you turning a few of the dials and clicking away with the mouse.

“Here” he handed you the headphones back and you slipped them on and listened to the edited section. It was even more incredible than before.

“Okay, okay you’re a genius. Now it’s done”

“Now it’s done” he affirmed. You wasn’t sure if it was the way his eyes swamped over with a playful, needy sparkle or the way he bit his lip under a smile but you were done, he was yours. His mind must have had the same thought process driving his actions when he yanked you out of the chair and pulled you flush against his chest, his hands finding their way underneath your tank top to knead at your chest. Blood rushed southwards as the air around you became saturated with hot and heavy breaths.

You grappled at the hem of his shirt until he let you pull it over his head exposing the opalescent skin of his own chest which felt like heaven underneath the trail of your fingertips.

“Wait…wait” you breathed “not here” you directed as much as it pained you to break up the atmosphere.

You pushed him on to the bed and straddled his waist, pulling the back of his hair exposing his neck for you to mark lightly, his quiet moans conducted the grinding of your hips into his groin. You stripped off your shirt and unhooked your bra and disposed of them somewhere on the floor. Yoongi’s head turned side to side trying to take in the surroundings, you redirected his face forward to yours.

“Let’s play a game” you pulled the bandanna from his belt loop and blocked him from seeing your grin grow anymore wicked. You stroked under his chin his head obediently followed the direction to your lips.

“If you want to stop at any time for any reason say ‘Red’ okay?” he nodded. You ground in to him, hard and pulled the back of his hair eliciting a groan which spoke directly to your core.

“You will also always use words when spoken to or asked a question okay?”

His grin returned “Yes, I got it. Can I call you noona please?” his words escaped as a whine. You halted your movements of unhooking his jeans and just took a moment to adore the view beneath you with an un-received warm smile.

“Look at you being all good for me already” the jeans ended on the floor in a heap. “I like my queen, I’ve never let anyone else call me that but honestly the thought of you calling me noona … so yes you can” You left him pouting on the bed as you went over to you walk in wardrobe, doors doubling as body mirrors, immediately on the left beneath your jackets and coats you went into the draw and retrieved what you needed.

“So we’re going to play a traffic light game. I’m going to give a sensation on the palm of your hand and If you like it you’re going to tell me where to put it on you, your cock is not included. If you don’t like it just say also you must keep your hands to yourself, no touching” You watched his face become the epitome of excitable anticipation.

I can’t even, when he bites his lip

“Aren’t you going to restrain me?”

“One thing at a time, besides I want to be cautious of your shoulder and I want to see how much self-control you have without the assistance of restraints” You noticed the slight sulk and exhale of air through pouted lips. You’d let the sulk go, this time.

You started with a simple kiss at his palm

“Neck”

Good choice you thought. As directed you sauntered your lips around his neck delivering heavy kisses, his chest hitched upwards as he swallowed hard. You loved how reactive he was.

“Sides” you danced the delicate feather in elegant brushes at his sides, flicking the end gently towards his hips bones.

His face creased slightly as the spikes of the pin-wheel dragged across his palm. He paused a beat, lost in thought.

“Ne..no thighs” he requested

Necks a weak point then you noted for further utilisation

Towards the apex of his thighs you increased the pressure of the wheel, you took the reaction of his fisting at the sheets as a positive one. You battled with the urge clawing at you to just take him as he was, riding him until you both stopped being able to form words.

“You look so beautiful for me, it’s hard to not just fuck you right now” you admitted. He fidgeted ever so slightly at your words. “Bet you’d like that though right?”

“Yes noona” he pleaded.

Fuck

You’d never been much for the noona thing but holy hell coming from him in the deep husky whine.

The bullet reverberated against his palm.

“Chest…please” he struggled over the last word, apparently your mouth encircling his cock took him by surprise.

“You asked so nicely”.

You rearrange yourself, at his waist again, your restraint was tested with his cock so close. It twitched when the buzzing and vibrations toyed with the skin at his chest, his hips bucked.

Your hands flooded to grip at his hands to stabilise yourself as his cock went straight to your spot. The volume of your cry amplified from surprise almost shrouding the groan tearing from Yoongi’s throat.

“Did I say you could fuck me?” you warned when you’d adjusted to him.

God he felt so good

“No, but…” he tried, while forcing himself not to move anymore even though every fibre of his being was telling him to do so.

“No buts!” you scolded testing your own will power to not move, you waited and waited. The frustration quickly built up to be unbearable, you took yourself off him, leaving you feeling empty.

“I think you can wait a bit longer for that now and I was so looking forward that, but you had to be impatient”

He squirmed beneath you “I’m sorry, please don’t make me wait I can’t…”

“You can and you will, there’s only one more round left ready?” he surrendered the fight and his body sighed sulkily.

“Yes I’m re…”

“My tongue” he managed as he gasped, his fingers guided by yours stroking at your arousal

Keeping your breathing calm, filtering the strong breaths past your lips.

“Well, I was hoping you’d say thighs but I mean that’s much better” His lips creasing at your approval. You slipped the blindfold off him and were met with famished eyes. You let him sit up

“You can use your hands now”

You were victim to a hard drawn out kiss which threatened your capacity to breathe, his hands desperate to make up for lost time glazed everywhere they could as you laid back. Your neck and chest were quick to break out in small petal blemishes; he had you twisting your fists at the sheets. The amount of times his lips ghosted past where you needed them the most creased your brows and the frustration translated into ignored whimpers and writhing for literally any contact.

“Now who doesn’t have self control” he teased looking up at you, eyes not yet content.

“Trust me if I didn’t self-control you’d be in a whole different situation right now” you replied strongly.

“Lucky for me then”

Your hand shot to grip his hair when his lips finally answered your need for contact. His arms hooked under your thighs, palms securing your hips. The way his tongue adeptly caused your undoing, dipping into your entrance in between firm circular swipes of his tongue. The aesthetic of his head between your thighs deepened every time his eyes snapped up to lock with yours, it was becoming harder and harder for your eyes to stay open, your eyes were forced closed as you neared your end.

“Come up here” you panted, he replied with a hesitant look before moving, you pulled his lips hard to yours and guided his hand desperately back to your clit.

“I just like to be close” you explained as his head nestled at your neck; the hot breath skimming your skin. His needy cock pressed at your thigh. His fingers navigating to your g-spot with blissful accuracy, palm applying pressure to your bud. Your hips took a moment to fall in sync with the movements of his finger, when they did, every muscle below your waist built tensed. Your nails locked onto his shoulder blades as you stilled under him, body convulsing whimpering his name. The heat completely engulfed you both, his lips also spilling out moans as hips jerked against you, the humidity leaving a pair of breathless bodies.

“Did you just cum without me doing anything?” you enquired with nothing but a triumphant smirk etched on your face.

“Hearing you like that just fucking did me over, sorry” he admitted rolling over slumping back into the mattress.

“Hmm well I don’t remember giving you permission but if you go and make me a drink I’ll forgive you”

He planted a kiss on your cheek

“You got it”

Your drink was gone in seconds, your body was crying out for some serious hydration.

“So what do you want?” you asked Yoongi your fingers tracing a delicate pattern across his chest.

“What do I want?”

“Yeah, you’re always entitled to some form of aftercare after you’ve subbed for me”

“Is that so?” you nodded.

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want, massage, bath, cuddles, watching tv, food”

“Can sleep be on that be on that list?”

“If that’s what you want” you laughed, internally kicking yourself for not suggesting that to the guy who happily wants to be a rock in his next life.

“Can I hold you?” he asked, smile drowsy and satisfied.

“You don’t even need to ask”.

#btssmutclub #sub-bts-network #kwritersworldnet #bts smut #networkbangtan #btsguild #kpopwonderlandtag #bangtanarmynet #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #BTS suga #suga x reader

230 notes · View notes

ineffably-good · 4 years

Text

I Will Follow You Into The Dark (10/10) (GO Fics)

Go read the whole thing on AO3

Summary: In which Crowley and Aziraphale throw an awesome party, a few members of Hell's secretarial pool make an appearance, and gifts are given.

Spring turned into summer, and although Aziraphale continued to research and plot, manipulate energies and dig through arcane sources, they made no real progress in restoring Crowley’s lost powers. Crowley, for the most part, handled it well – he occasionally found himself instinctively snapping in response to an immediate problem before remembering that he no longer could, but one look at Aziraphale would remind him what he had done it for and why.

The whiled the summer away traveling a little, spending long weeks out of town with Frederick (who’s house arrest was apparently over) in tow, and enjoying as many long, leisurely dinners and late morning brunches as they could.

Crowley slowly came to the full awareness that he now had a husband. Despite being the one to initiate the almost shotgun-style wedding, it took a while to settle in that the angel – the same angel who curled up next to him to read all night every night, who kept trying to sneak small tartan accents into his wardrobe and claiming complete innocence when called upon it, who kept showering him in almost more love, warmth, and affection than he could handle (almost) – was now bonded to him for life.

He liked to say the word, to himself, roll it around on his tongue. Husband, he’d whisper. Husband, husband, husband. He found he loved the sound of it. He took to calling to make reservations for them at dinner (now that he could no longer miracle the best table) and asking for a table for “my husband and I.” He occasionally interrupted a store clerk who wasn’t being attentive enough to point out that “my husband needs assistance.” He definitely took to stepping between Aziraphale and any young lovestruck fool who was eyeing him and finding a way to throw the word “husband” into the next sentence that came out of his mouth.

Aziraphale, for his part, continued to watch and worry over Crowley during the transition from powers to no powers. He could tell sometimes that Crowley missed them, and he suspected this would become a larger issue in the winter when he couldn’t conserve body warmth by relegating himself to snake form, but he had to admit that for the most part, Crowley seemed to be doing than he had expected with the change. He slowly found himself relaxing, fraction by fraction, as he realized that the demon was not going to change his mind about the bargain he’d made.

“I forgot to tell you something, angel,” Crowley said one morning. “I can’t believe I forgot this, it was really important!”

Aziraphale frowned and put down his coffee cup. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Crowley said. “It’s just something from the conversation with God.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale said.

“She said something about you,” Crowley said, “when I said you were the best thing she’d ever created. I can’t believe I never told you this!”

Aziraphale dimpled up ridiculously and blushed a bright pink. “Oh, my dear,” he murmured. “You said that to her about me?”

Crowley grinned. “Don’t give yourself the vapors, angel,” he said, “and anyways, it’s the truth. But my POINT is, what she said next. I asked if I could tell you because I knew you would want to hear it.”

Aziraphale found he was holding his breath.

“She said that you had never disappointed her,” Crowley said. “Not once. Never.”

He watched as the angel took that in, first frowning a little as he considered it, then his face cleared as Crowley watched the most phenomenal look of peace pass over him. He raised his chin and squared his shoulders, giving Crowley a pleased smile.

“Well then,” he said. “That’s just lovely to hear.” He thought for a minute. “I don’t suppose she provided it in written form so we could send a copy to that bastard Gabriel, did she?”

Crowley laughed.

Soon it was August, and the date of their wedding reception rolled around. It was a perfect night for it; the champagne sparkled, the appetizers were scrumptious, and their friends gathered to share in their happiness. It appeared to be a wonderful success.

“Dudes!” came a familiar voice, as Crowley and Aziraphale were considering where and how to begin cutting the massive, four layered chocolate cake. They turned and found Rat, who had dressed up for the occasion in a slightly less dingy-looking suit and had clearly combed his ear-like points of hair until they were smooth and shiny. “Thank you so much for the invitation,” he said. “That was really decent of you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, we are very grateful to you for the help,” he said. “Seemed like the least we could do was invite you to the party.”

Crowley nodded agreeably. “We are,” he said. “Enjoy yourself!”

“I brought a couple of my friends from the secretarial pool,” Rat said, pointing off to the side behind him. “Don’t worry,” he hurried to assure them as he saw Crowley’s eyebrows go up. “They won’t do anything to cause any problems. They’re HUGE fans of the yours, man.”

Crowley and Aziraphale followed his pointing arm to a cluster of three small, intimidated looking demons who were clustered around a single white plate and nervously poking at various appetizers as if they might be alive. When they saw Crowley looking at them, they each raised a hand and waved shyly, with smiles ranging from starstruck to terrified.

Crowley groaned and waved back, trying to ignore the way Aziraphale was grinning at him. He bid goodbye to Rat with a pat on the arm and literally pulled the angel away from the secretarial demons’ line of sight.

“I don’t want to hear a single word about that,” he warned him. “I mean it.”

Aziraphale giggled – he actually giggled, the bastard – but he made a locking gesture over his lips and tucked the imaginary key in his pocket. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that the existence of Crowley’s fan club was something he was going to get mileage out of for years to come. He could wait.

Crowley, knowing exactly what his spouse was thinking, pulled him out onto the dance floor to distract him. He pulled the angel close and laid a hand on the small of his back. Distraction accomplished, he thought, as the angel became soft and cuddly as they shared a couple of dances to the slower pieces that were being played.

Soon enough Anathema came up to cut in, dancing with each of them in turn, as did other guests, and after a while Crowley found he had lost sight of the angel all together. He scanned the crowd for him and was surprised to see a very familiar shock of blond hair jumping up and down to the beat of what Aziraphale would refer to as “bebop”, near the front of the dance floor. He grinned and made his way over to wrap an arm around the angel’s waist and kiss him from behind.

“Having fun, love?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” Aziraphale said, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “It’s almost as much fun as the gavotte!” He had ditched his suit coat somewhere, rolled up his sleeves, and loosened his bow tie. He was glowing with happiness and exertion and it was all Crowley could do not to eat him like a snack.

Second best, he decided, was to get his angel another glass of champagne. Which he did. Hydration was important, after all.

Then Crowley found himself pulled back into the fray by Adam and his friends, and he lost sight of him again.

Crowley found him a little bit later.

“Come with me,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s time.”

Aziraphale tossed back the rest of the champagne he was holding and allowed himself to be pulled out the side door and across the lawn. They moved away from the buildings and their light, and Aziraphale hand-waved a small miracle to dampen the light pollution from both the city and the full moon, so they could more easily see the sky.

Crowley had previous laid out a large, light blanket over the soft grass, and he plopped down on it and reclined onto his elbows, patting the space between his legs. “Come here, you,” he said. Aziraphale smiled and settled in, leaning back with his head resting against Crowley’s chest. They both looked up at the sky – and waited.

It wasn’t long before they saw the first one.

“Oooooh!” Aziraphale exclaimed, pointing as the first meteor appeared. “Did you see it? It was right there.”

It was the last day of the peak of the Perseid meteor shower.

“Oh, they’re always so lovely,” Aziraphale said fondly.

“I made them, you know,” Crowley said, quietly. “Well, I made the comet they came from.”

“You did?” Aziraphale said. “I don’t think I knew that.”

“One of my first creations, before the fall,” he said. “It was just for practice, making a comet. Baby steps. But I always loved it the most, because it was my first.”

“And every August, its trail of debris delights the humans,” Aziraphale said with a fond smile.

“Or frightens them,” Crowley said. “But most of us know meteors are good luck, not bad. It seemed like a good omen for starting a new phase of our lives.”

They sat silently for another twenty minutes, heartbeat to heartbeat, just watching each glimmering spark streak across the sky and feeling ineffably connected.

“Shall we go back to our guests?” Aziraphale asked eventually.

“If we must,” Crowley said, standing up and helping Aziraphale rise. Aziraphale gave him that soft, contented smile that he loved so much, and then they turned to cross the open field back toward the lights and music.

They’d only gone a few steps when a buzzing beam of light appeared behind them, infinitely bright.

They spun around, and Aziraphale instinctively stepped in front of Crowley in a defensive stance. Crowley might be the creator of the two, but he was the former soldier, and he knew better to let his powerless husband get in harm’s way.

To his shock and dismay, Aziraphale was met with the large, disembodied head of the Metatron.

"Greetings, Principality Aziraphale and Demon Crowley," he said, his voice pleasant but clinical. "I bring you tidings from the Almighty on this the celebration of your nuptials."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a shocked look.

“May – may we speak with her?” Aziraphale asked.

"To speak with me is to speak with the Almighty," he replied, unflappable in his composure and certitude.

I bet this asshole just LOVES Gabriel, Crowley thought as he stepped forward to stand directly beside Aziraphale, shoulder to shoulder. He reached out and grabbed the angel’s hand. “What’s the message?” he asked.

"The Almighty wishes you to know that she bids you joy in your union,” the Metatron said. “Furthermore, she wishes you to know that she is moved by the selflessness with which you’ve both cared for each other in the light of the Demon Crowley’s altered circumstances. Your sacrifices and sincere, unselfish love have not gone unnoticed.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Uh… thank you?” he said.

"Finally, in honor of your wedding, she wishes to offer you a nuptial gift."

The Metatron gestured vaguely with his eyes, leading them both to look up at a small, golden object that drifted slowly down from a point unseen. It appeared to be a box, Crowley thought, as it came to rest on the grass at their feet.

Crowley looked back at the Metatron. “What is it?” he asked suspiciously.

“It is a gift for you both from the Almighty,” the Metatron restated. “Do not dawdle in opening it, children. That is all.”

He faded away from sight.

They stood, staring wide-eyed at each other, then down at the golden box below them. Aziraphale, the first to recover his wits, bent down and picked it up, holding it away from his body as if he feared it might bite him.

“Should we go open it inside?” Crowley said.

“No,” Aziraphale said, shaking his head. “I think we should do this alone.” He pulled Crowley back to the blanket and they sat down, side-by-side, staring at the box still held in Aziraphale’s hands.

With unspoken agreement, they both reached for the lid and pulled it open.

A soft, golden glow filled the air, and a delicious aroma of roses became apparent. It took a moment to make out the contents against the glow, but soon Aziraphale lifted out a piece of parchment and a pair of small, golden cupcakes.

“Cupcakes??” Aziraphale said, puzzled.

“Cupcakes are for children!” Crowley said. “Didn’t we specifically say no cupcakes?”

“I believe we did,” Aziraphale hummed, unrolling the parchment. “’To a long and magical marriage’, it says.”

“A what?” Crowley said distractedly, still annoyed by the cupcakes. God and her ineffable sense of humor was getting on his last nerve.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, grabbing him by the forearm with urgency. “It says to a long and magical marriage.”

Crowley blinked. “You don’t think…”

“I do.”

“No.”

“What else could it possibly mean?”

“Knowing the almighty,” Crowley muttered, trying to beat down a surge of something like hope and hating himself for feeling it, “nearly anything.”

“I think,” Aziraphale said quietly, “that we had better eat them.”

Crowley’s heart began to bound. “Should we, though?” he asked, peevishly. “I mean, should we really? Isn’t this just a bit too Alice in Wonderland for you? We’re going to take a bite and find ourselves too big for the Earth or too small to exist or fall down some kind of interdimensional rabbit hole and then —”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s face in his hands. “My dear,” he said softly, stilling him with his most loving look, “trust me. I have a feeling about this.”

Aziraphale had a feeling. Oh joy.

Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, his favorite sight in all the world, and noted the intensity of his trusting gaze. Every detail of the scene seemed to ingrain itself into his senses – the blue-black night sky still streaked by the quick milky spill of comets, the branches of the oak behind them susurrating in the warm breeze, the scent of crushed, warm grass beneath them, the gentle spill of music and laughter from the party on the other side of the field. The moment seemed to stretch and bend around them, infinitely, like they were poised together over a great chasm, deciding whether to fall.

Crowley shrugged, unable to resist both his love and whatever the hell this was, and picked up one of the confections. He crossed the fingers of his other hand.

“Ready, then?” he asked as Aziraphale did the same.

“Ready.”

And without further delay, they each took a bite.

Nothing happened for a moment, then Crowley felt a warmth bloom in his chest and spread through him. He felt its golden tendrils wrap around his physical being, then extend to his ethereal one. It should have burned, he thought, but instead it just felt like the most delightful touch of sunshine. It swirled through all of him and then it drifted away.

He opened his eyes to find Aziraphale watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. He almost looked, he thought, like he was praying.

“Did you feel that too?” Crowley asked.

“I did,” Aziraphale said, “but I think it was stronger for you.”

“Should I –” Crowley swallowed, unable to complete the thought.

“Try it,” Aziraphale said gently. “Try a miracle. The worst outcome is nothing’s changed, and we’ve already gotten used to that.”

Crowley stood and raised the hand furthest away from Aziraphale to snapping position and pulled up from the ground in his usual fashion. Something did happen, but his hand emitted only a small spark rather than the flare of fire he’d been trying to raise.

“Wait,” he said. “That doesn’t feel quite right. I’m doing something wrong.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said carefully. “I think you need to try the other direction.”

Crowley froze. “I’m a demon,” he said. “I don’t pull my powers from Above.”

Aziraphale reached over and pulled Crowley’s now-clenched hand to his lips. “What if,” he said, “you’re something all together new?”

He placed Crowley’s hand in ready position at shoulder height and stepped back.

Crowley took a deep breath, snapped down, and then tossed a small, sparkling firework up into the sky over them. It broke into a golden chrysanthemum shape, and tiny gold petals drifted slowly to the ground around them.

Aziraphale gasped.

“I’m a DEMON,” Crowley repeated, desperately, feeling afraid and a little overwhelmed. “She didn’t just unfall me, did she? Because I don’t WANT that.”

Aziraphale frowned and scanned him with his more hidden senses. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You still smell like a demon. Pull out your wings.”

Crowley yanked his wings into their plane and Aziraphale caught his breath. They were still black and glossy, but sprinkled throughout them were tips of dove gray, just here and there, giving him a subtle, speckled appearance.

“What is it?” Crowley asked, craning his neck. “Oh, please tell me I’m not about to start really enjoying the Sound of Music for the love of –”

He caught sight of his wings and fell silent.

“Still a demon,” Aziraphale said, “or mostly so.”

“A demon who draws his powers from Heaven?” Crowley asked. “Who’s ever heard of such a thing?”

“You’re the very first,” Aziraphale said, beaming at him.

“What about you?” Crowley said. “What did you get?”

Aziraphale’s chin quivered with happiness. “I got you, fully restored, my love – what more could I possibly want?”

Crowley rolled his eyes, but gently. “Wings, angel,” he said. “Let me see ‘em.”

Aziraphale obediently pulled out his wings and Crowley circled him, observing. “Yours have changed too,” he said. “There’s some dove gray here and there that wasn’t there before.”

The angel looked thoughtful. “I wonder what it all means.”

Crowley took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around his husband. “We have, by my count, approximately forever to figure it all out, love.”

“As long as we figure it out together,” Aziraphale said. “Always.”

“Damn straight,” Crowley replied.

“I think it’s time to go bid our guests good night,” Aziraphale said. “You can miracle them up an endless supply of alcohol and we shall let the youngsters keep the party going until dawn. We’ve already paid for the cleaning crew in the morning.”

Crowley smiled. “And what will we do?”

He could hear Aziraphale’s answering smile even in the dark. “I would like to go home,” he said decisively, “and lie under the skylight in the bedroom with you and watch the rest of the meteors go by.”

“Home,” Crowley said, his heart as full as he had ever known it. “Home it is, then.”

#good omens fics #Aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #anathema device #do you like really long fics?#with lots of tension?#well i might have a story for you

13 notes · View notes

its-love-u-asshole · 5 years

Link

Pairing: Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki, Awashima Seri/Douhan Hirasaka

Summary: Saruhiko would never admit to being inspired by...anyone really, but he's come to learn there are always exceptions.

Rating: T

Tags: fluff, established relationship, fushimi pov

Note: yooo ITS BEEN FOREVER!!! I assume this year will be the last sarumi fest, so I thought I should do at least a little something! I missed these two losers a lot, they're the pairing that brought me back to writing four years ago, and I owe the K fandom so much. I've met some amazing, lifelong friends, and whenever I remember my days in the fandom I just remember endless support and encouragement! I'm sad this will probably be the last K fic I'll ever write, but I'm also glad I'm sticking to my roots and delivering some plain old fluff ^^ (also seri and douhan pft I adore them) I hope you enjoy!

It starts with Douhan and Seri.

Saruhiko never would've expected it from them; out of all the people in his life who he's...somewhat comfortable calling friends, they're the two who annoy him the least. Sometimes they drag him to the gym or the mall, if for no other reason than to expose him to sunlight and fresh air...but even then, their words and the general cadence of their voices don't grate on his nerves.

He's...not entirely against being around them, is what he means.

Even when the two women began to date that didn't change, though he did avoid them during the first month. Back then, the intimate and subtle demonstrations of affection didn't compute in his mind. He couldn't make sense of them without feeling weird; a strange coiling would start in his gut and work through his body until he couldn't sit still. Like a code he couldn't crack or particularly rough work day, he couldn't figure out what it was about every delicate touch or private whisper.

It was uncomfortable, and he hated to admit that. He hated being bothered by things he didn't understand.

At least with large crowds or hot-blooded people, it was easy to explain away; they were annoying, simple as that.

Yet, like with a lot of other habits he'd clung to over the years, the instinct to shy away from understanding when it came to that level of intimacy began to be more trouble than it was worth.

There was just nothing to fuel it anymore, and besides...

Douhan and Seri simply embodied something he was grasping for, something he’d always been grasping for, though he refuses to admit it.

Back then, and now. Nothing has changed.

"I like you, Saruhiko!" Misaki says at the top of his lungs. It's too loud, the volume might make Saruhiko squint in distaste.

If it were anyone else.

Misaki had always been his exception, and he never liked to admit it.

Saruhiko's heart stops in his chest as he stares at his best friend, looking like a drowned rat on his doorstep. They'd met for dinner on the other side of town; by that time, it was a habit. No more distrust, no more fights...

Just a lightness Saruhiko never thought he'd feel again, something he's still not used to feeling.

And just when he thought he was okay with just that, just when he'd begun to ignore the nagging in his mind which always seemed to want Misaki closer and closer, the other decided to cross the distance entirely.

Saruhiko's honestly shocked the redhead was dealing with the same issues, but now there's no way to deny the possibility.

Because Misaki is here. He probably ran all the way back from his home at this ungodly hour because as always, he couldn't wait. He couldn't just...slow down.

And Saruhiko's completely powerless to do anything but cave.

When Saruhiko doesn't say anything for a while, Yata's rain-soaked features flood with red, and it’s not like that of his aura. "I-I mean, like-like you know?"

Yes, he does.

Shockingly he does.

Misaki is blushing for Saruhiko, and it's so satisfying and scary all at once.

"I probably always have but--I was waiting for you to get over yourself!"

Saruhiko almost laughs.

Of course. He could make fun of Misaki's shyness, his complete inexperience with anything resembling romance. How could he possibly know what he feels? How does he know Saruhiko deserves it?

Those are the instinctual questions which run through his mind, but they're not the last. Again, old habits don't necessarily fade away, but they lose some of their power, as all things do.

Saruhiko can't run from this, not this time.

He clicks his tongue after the longest silence in the world, and Misaki's fidgeting comes to an abrupt halt.

"Was that supposed to be a confession?" Saruhiko laughs, and for a moment, he sees the fear in Misaki's. The moment where he knows the expected defiance should be, the refusal. Saruhiko can't hold it against him, it's what part of him still yearns to do.

Yet, Saruhiko still defies expectation. "I bet I could do a better job."

It's a lie, his hands are shaking from how much of a lie it is. He's not sure what he's capable of these days, but when Misaki is looking at him like that...

He can't deny him anymore.

Misaki's eyes widen, the clear shock so priceless and satisfying, despite the uneven beating of Saruhiko's heart. Then, it's gone, replaced with a grin too bright and fiery. Lately, Saruhiko sees it a lot, but he'll probably never be used to it. Misaki scoffs, the challenge burning in his eyes. "Yeah? Prove it."

And in a matter of seconds, the doorstep is as empty as before.

Many would say he was just as bad as Seri and Douhan now. After that, things seemed to spiral. It’s been a year, but with Misaki, time seems to stretch on and on. His boyfriend has a habit of making everything they do together seem like the first time, it's a power Saruhiko has yet to understand.

But, otherwise, he's used to it now. He gets it, in a way. The intimate touches, the whispered words, he's familiar with them now, along with a hundred other small things which come with being with Misaki.

So, Seri and Douhan were no longer an issue.

For a year.

Unfortunately, here they are again, disrupting his normal stream of consciousness with a boulder, leaving him stranded and stuck without an ounce of knowledge of where to go next.

He watches from his desk as Douhan gets down on one knee, revealing a rose gold wedding band with opal in the center.

Why does Seri's desk have to be in his immediate line of sight?

Saruhiko's finger twitches as Douhan slides the ring onto Seri's finger; it's a fitting choice, given their different clans, he guesses. When it comes to accessories, Douhan always knows best. The opal reflects all the colors.

Douhan's normally neutral face is the same to any outside observe; but Saruhiko sees the gentle upward tilt of her lips, the shakiness of her usually precise hands.

It's overwhelming, but he can't look away.

Again, they've thrown him totally off center, and with what? A proposal?

Why does that bother--

He crushes the question like a glass bottle. He knows why, and he hates it. It's so pathetically vulnerable and unnecessary and yet...

He sees the way Seri blushes, the mistiness taking over her strict expression; Douhan is truly bold, coming to their place of work to make such a grand gesture.

The guys are already up and congratulating Seri loudly, but Saruhiko hears none of it.

Seri jumps into Douhan's arms and then green eyes meet him from across the room, like they know he's been watching. They always know.

Douhan gives him a knowing look, it doesn't even last a second, and then her focus is all Seri.

Saruhiko understands.

Yes, that's why the gesture bothers him, because unlike before, he does understand this. He just wishes he knew how to deal with it better.

The proposal bothers him for one reason and one reason only: he wants it.

Saruhiko wants.

And it never gets easier admitting that.

Beside him, his phone buzzes, like it tends to around this time. He knows exactly who it is before he picks it up, and it drives his new revelation home.

Misaki: Hey! We r still grabbing dinner yeah?!

Don't they always?

Saruhiko's eyes soften, he can feel it, and he can't do anything to stop them.

Saruhiko: We do every Thursday.

It doesn't stop him from being a bit of a smart-ass though.

He doesn't read the barrage of texts he gets after that, though the urge is there. His phone vibrates for a few seconds, some weak retort Saruhiko will no doubt tease his boyfriend for later.

Then, thirty seconds pass, and a reluctant buzz comes again. Saruhiko doesn't have to read it to blush, Misaki is so predictable sometimes.

There's about two hours until he's off work, not enough time for what needs to be done, but he pulls up a few websites anyways.

As far as rings go, there's a lot to weed through, some gaudy and some plain. He wrinkles his nose, and the light feeling in his chest doesn't leave him for the rest of his shift.

It takes him a while to realize it, but he finds he doesn't care what rings they have, all of them suit Misaki in Saruhiko's mind, and nothing will probably change that.

He doubts he'd try.

#sarumi #k project #sarumi fest 2019

17 notes · View notes