#SORRY I GOT THE IMPULSE TO SAY KILL YOURSELF AND COULDNT HELP IT. I DONT MEAN IT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

motelpearl · 3 months

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I'm watching star trek voyager so I'm gonna put my thoughts below & keep adding onto it (yes I'm going from tng -> voy & skipping ds9 for now at least even though I feel like I'm missing out on context bc trekkies seem to hold ds9 as like the gold standard of star trek but I watched a couple episodes & I just couldnt dig it)

the relationship of kes & neelix is so bewildering to me like what does she see in him like hes not even a bad person but he's just a lot dumber than her & has that "where's my hug" type guy energy also he's like so old not even in a sugar daddy way just in a boomer way like doesn't kes's species only live 9 years

I hope tom paris goes through some character development because as of right now he's soooooo annoying like referring to chakotay as an "indian" all the time......ugh one would hope we wouldn't still be doing that in the 25th century also I knew from seeing online discourse that chakotay's writing is stereotypical in a well intentioned but still badly-aged way & it's not ruining the show for me but whenever he closes his eyes & the panflute music kicks in I just sigh deeply

the vidiians are fucking terrifying bruh its giving a cure for wellness

I HATE HISTORICAL REVISIONISM IM SORRY BUT IT WILL NEVER FEEL COMFORTABLE TO ME EVEN IF THEYRE DEAD. NOT THE MARK TWAIN RPF IN TNG NOT THE AMELIA EARHART RPF HERE IT JUST AINT RIGHT

OKAY MAYBE I WAS WRONG WHEN I SAID NEELIX ISNT W BAD GUY BC WHAT DO YOU MEAN KES IS A PREPUBESCENT 2 YEAR OLD

not the voyager defeating an alien by becoming submissive & breedable (of course the voyager has a blue plasma trail & pronouns....)

JANEWAY WANTS CHAKOTAYS DICK SO BAD PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER GIRL WHERES YOUR DECORUM

tuvoks hairline is so fascinating to me

not belanna being lowkey in love with chakotay too & then them showing his bare ass in the next episode....rick berman was on this man like a fat kid on a smartie

FUCK THE KAZON UGLYASS BEASTS

seska needs to be in jail bruh

I SWEAR TO GOD IVE WATCHED ENOUGH STAR TREK THAT I CAN TELL JUST BY THE CAMERA ANGLES WHEN AN EPISODE IS DIRECTED BY JONATHAN FRAKES LIKE HE'S ALWAYS DOING WEIRD DUTCH ANGLE TRACKING SHOTS & STUFF LIKE THAT

so I heard that threshold is like the worst episode in the entirely of star trek & after watching it I honestly dont think it's that bad like sure it's an implausible premise but it's not as bad as like code of honor or sub rosa

NOT BEEF BEING A Q....TWO OF MY WEIRD NERDY INTERESTS ARE OVERLAPPING ALSO THE CAST LIST OF THIS EPISODE SCARES & EXCITES ME. FUCK Q SEXIST ASS MOTHERFUCKER FIRST HE CREEPS ON THAT TEENAGE Q THEN HE KILLS ALYSSA OGAWAS BABY NOW HE SAYS WOMEN CANT BE CAPTAINS & SEXUALLY HARRASSES JANEWAY. DIE.

I always wonder how they get the alien makeup on babies like in this episode with the baby with horns on its head & that one episode of tng where they showed baby borg. also the concept of teleporting a baby out of the womb for an easier delivery is hilarious

tuvok & neelix toxic yaoi?

bruh if this episode is setting up the possibility of suder just letting out his violent impulses one last time & going scorched earth on the kazon & the doctor helping him by means of holographic skulduggery & then tom paris showing up with a cavalry of fucking talaxians to lay the smack down I'm gonna laugh so hard

TOM PARIS FINALLY STARTING TO REDEEM HIMSELF

THE PORTRAYAL OF 1990S EARTH IS SO FUCKING FUNNY TUVOK WEARING A DURAG TO COVER HIS EARS PLEASEEEEE

time travel episodes stress me out so much though like PLEASEEE put the tricorder away. not belanna & chakotay getting kidnapped by hillbillies omg the shots where the guy kicks chakotay & then belanna kicks the guy were edited so weirdly

starling reminds me so much of elon musk

is the alien possessing kes bisexual?

too bad q got to die of old age instead of janeway giving him the electric chair

janeway gettin her lara croft on we love that

why cant vulcans just jack off during pon farr like I thought hand stuff was their whole thing

this isnt voyager specific but shuttlecrafts should really have seatbelts like the amount of times people randomly get injured because turbulence throws them out of their seats....WE SOLVED THIS ISSUE 500 YEARS AGO

not tuvok building the Doohickey

why are they leaving harry unattended on a borg cube WHY DOES STARFLEET NOT MANDATE THE BUDDY SYSTEM HES JUSTA LITTLE GUY & NOW HE'S GOING TO GET ASSIMILATED

WHAT THE JESUS IS THAT

awww bless kes I knew she would leave & I was worried she would die but I'm glad she left on a lighter note

"welcome to the worst day of my life" hi my name is belanna dark'ness dementia raven torres (yes I know losing the warp core is serious but that line was giving "we live in a society")

DID HARRY & SEVEN HAVE SEX. BRUH

eugh I wrote in my other star trek thread that borg assimilation is one thing that just gives me such deep discomfort like even though the borg gradually become sort of overdone the concept of assimilation becomes increasingly terrifying regardless like seven's backstory just creeps me out so much like the concept of her parents just being these sort of rebellious scientists who thought they were gonna make some great discovery out in the delta quadrant (sidenote I hope it gets explained more how exactly they got out there like did they go through a wormhole too?) & just stumbling upon these unimaginable horrors that they had no chance of fight & having to watch as their naivete & hubris destroyed their childs life & everyone they previously knew had no idea where they went or what happened to them EUGH ITS SO CHILLING

wait how did they get the warp core back was I not paying attention

tuvok getting his gilf certificate in the mail we love to see it

species 8472 are terrifying even though the CGI is so low-poly

okay this is a pretty pointless criticism but it annoys me how all the female characters wear heeled boots & on that note the grey turtleneck under the uniforms looks so ugly like post-s3 TNG had the best looking uniforms & this isnt coming from a biased place just bc tng is my favourite (also the movie era uniforms that were red & had random white straps were SO UGLYYYY & DUMB LIKE HOW CAN YOU TELL ANYONES RANK OR DEPARTMENT IF THEYRE ALL RED)

I hate the way the borg queens spine swings around like a cat's tail

opening the episode with harry kim getting his tiddies sucked....ON PRIMETIME TV? IN THE 90S?

I just know that anti-alien-sex law got put into place because of riker

since like late season 3 I'm finally starting to understand why trekkies say janeway has sexual tension with literally everyone

a vulcan shedding a single tear when hearing an artificial lifeform perform a piece of classical music? NOW WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT BEFORE......*taps chin pensively*

tuvok & neelix detoxified yaoi?

BARCLAY & TROI YASSS

NEVERMIND NOT BARCLAY BACK ON HIS HOLODECK BULLSHIT

not the space Irish again (also from what I've seen irish people are apparently really offended by the irish reunification of 2024 meme <\\\3)

if janeway were alive in 2024 she'd be on tumblr making posts like "I need to get sent to the seaside for my health"

I didnt expect the episode "virtuoso" to suddenly take such a resonant turn but in the age of generative ai it's strangely prophetic

the double whammy of seeing jeffrey combs & the rock as the guest stars in this episode

I got injured the other day & have been pretty much bedbound because of it & whenever a scene takes place in sickbay I think "spare dermal regenerator 🤲"

they bring back kes just to give her makeup that makes her look like Christopher Walken <\\\3

ugh I love troi shes such a queen

why does the borg queen look like this -> 🥺

honestly I'm kinda sad that I'm on the final season

poor tuvok man first he almost gets assimilated, then he gets mind controlled, now hes just trying to fuck but he's thwarted by political tensions

I kind of want to rewatch st: picard since I know seven's backstory now & have the context of the borg's decline like I saw trekkies saying janeway "handled them" but now I know the exact circumstances

omg I know chakotay & seven somehow end up together (at least for a while) when the show ends bc I've had so much of voyager spoiled (tbh that seems to the usual reason i watch shows, I get a bunch of it spoiled & then I'm like "but how do those dots connect") anyway that literally makes no sense bc I can't think of a time theyve ever interacted since seven became a character but like chakotay & janeway were RIGHT THERE THEYVE HAD TENSION SINCE SEASON 1 IM NOT EVEN A SHIPPER CAUSE IDC THAT MUCH BUT IT WAS RIGHT THERE (& I read the wikipedia page for each episode after I watch them cause idk I like learning behind the scenes stuff & in the "reception" section of each page theres always something like "fans were disappointed that janeway & chakotay did not bang like screen doors in this episode") LIKE THE FANS WANTED IT IT WAS A LOGICAL COURSE OF ACTION IT WAS SET UP SINCE SEASON 1 & THE WRITERS CHICKENED OUT. WHY THOUGH?

noooo belanna dont do eugenics ur so sexy aha

POOR TUVOK BRUH SEASON 7 IS JUST A YEAR OF TUVOK SUFFERING

THE DOCTOR MAKING PHANTOM OF THE OPERA REFERENCES....DID HE JUST BECOME MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER (even though he pronounces "fantome" entirely wrong)

"she's suffering from dysphoria syndrome" janeway trans?

I know this show was made in the late 90s/early 2000s but nothing hammers that point home like seeing the same exact fishing rod toy I had as a kid in this episode that aired a month after I was conceived

just when I thought the Q couldnt get more annoying....one of them is a teenage boy

NOT SOME WRITERS BARELY DISGUISED FOOT FETISH SEEPING IN.....I COULD NEVER BE AN ACTRESS

one thing that has never stopped annoying me is the fact that we literally see naomi wildman be born onscreen & then she goes from newborn -> 9 year old over the course of like 2 seasons

okay I finished it & I'll need more time to collect my thoughts but the basic idea is: I liked the show but I feel like there was lots of possibilities that went unexplored but one thing I especially liked is that unlike TNG (which is still my favourite trek) the female characters got storylines that didnt just revolve around interpersonal stuff (ie. family/romance) but actually got to use their specific skills

but now I'm rewatching the first couple episodes of because I honestly had no idea what was going on (I didn't even realize the doctor was a hologram until like halfway through season 1 & I didn't realize tuvok was spying on the maquis until like season 3) & one thing I have noticed is that NEELIX WAS SO FUCKING UNHINGED IN THE FIRST EPISODE LIKE HE COMES OFF LIKE HEATH LEDGER AS THE JOKER IN THAT SCENE WHERE HE VIDEOCALLS VOYAGER & STRUTTING AROUND THE TRANSPORT ROOM IN HIS PIMP COAT & ALL THE WATER STUFF LIKE WHO IS THIS MAN also belanna's makeup was so bad I'm sorry <\\\3

#motelpearl #star trek

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deddie-eddie · 4 years

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Hypocrisy in fandom.

TW // suicide, suicide baiting, harassment

Yesterday, I nearly killed myself.

I was in the midst of a breakdown, I was shaking so hard I couldnt breathe, and if I wasn't I likely would have been able to open the pill bottle and I likely would have gone through with it.

I had to be talked down via phone call while I was on a camping trip with my family.

But why?

Two days ago, I did something awful. I found a "pedo struggling" account, run by an anti, who was posting screenshots of me and my friends, and called them out.

Little did I know, this would be the start of something horrible.

It started out fine. I made a couple jokes, laughed along at other proshippers in the comments, and it was all fine.

Then, the account posted a vague tweet. "They won't stop." I thought this was funny, so I poked more fun at them. Watched them squirm as they replied to my friends in shaky, broken English. I called it crytyping. I mocked them for it. I assumed I knew what I was talking about and instead of realizing that they were having a breakdown, I assumed that they were being performative and made some horrid accusations in a long callout thread about them. I posted screenshots of them as they replied with, what I thought was, performative nonsense. I privately mocked them. To summarize, I did something entirely, unarguably, factually awful. I made assumptions I had no right to make and acted on them in the worst way.

Then I went to bed.

When I woke up, I had hundreds of notifications. Spammed messages of "deactivate," "how could you do something like this," and a barrage of fancams.

It had come out that the person I was mocking was having a genuine panic attack, and that I had mocked them in a time of immense struggle and pain. I had no right to mock them in the first place, but now that it was genuine, my actions were amplified.

I finally took more than two seconds to think about what I'd done, and realized I was a huge, giant, absolutely massive asshole. I deleted the thread, released a long apology, and tried to take every comment and all my criticism in stride. I was still getting a lot of hate. That was understandable. I knew I didnt deserve to be forgiven yet. I let it be. I didnt tweet anything else for fear of it seeming like I wasnt taking this horrible situation seriously. I sincerely, honestly replied to people asking me why, how, and what I thought I was doing. They had every right to know. Still, the cries of "deactivate" rolled in. I knew I deserved them.

Then, it got worse.

I got a comment. I checked it.

"I dont usually say this but ummm... you should kys."

My heart raced. It had been a while since someone had told me to kill myself. I knew I had fucked up but I didnt realize just how hard, if people were really telling me to kill myself. But i brushed it off. It was one comment. I deserved it.

But it kept. Coming.

More people. "Deactivate," "kill yourself," "you're a freak." All day. Every minute I'd have a new notif, and every moment a new threat. "You'll be alone forever." "I hope you rot alone." I knew I had to take it because I had inadvertently sent people to harass that person. I didnt deserve to be forgiven. I still dont.

People watched my follower count drop. So did I. I lost mutuals I had interacted with for months. I lost people who said that they would always be there for me. I lost people who used to call me their best friend.

I had no one ask me for my side. No one that i was close to, anyway. None of the tens of people who told me that they cared about me, that they loved me, that theyd always be there for me. Not a single one of them was there to ask me. They all read the same callout post, and came to the same conclusion. That I was a horrible, unforgivable person. And I dont blame them for that. Sometimes I think I am too.

Then they kept going even more. More hate. More callout posts, except now people were making things up. They were lying and I couldnt do anything about it because I was in the wrong and not to be redeemed. Old friends took the sides of people who genuinely suggested that I die or kill myself, and people who said they loved me were handing over screenshots to these people in hopes that they wouldnt get thrown under the bus.

They took old things that I said and did and exaggerated them, posted old DMs out of context, and when they couldnt manipulate my words they just didnt provide evidence at all. They had that power. They had the power to lie about me and I had given it to them.

More people joined in. There was a hashtag spread of me. #staymadeddie on twitter. Look it up if you think I'm lying. People tried to get this trending.

After over a day and a half of NOTHING but constant harassment, I started to think I should take their advice. If I was dead, I'd finally be quiet, and theyd get what they wanted. If I was dead, they wouldnt yell at me anymore. They wouldnt harass me. I would be free.

They managed to make me feel like this in a day and a half.

I had a public breakdown. I screamed over the internet, phone held in shaking hands as I tried not to sob in earshot of my family. I frantically pleaded to what little I had left that they stop. I begged to know what they wanted from me. I asked if they really wanted me to die. I begged them to leave me alone. I threw my phone at my bed, ran to the med cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of pills. If I hadn't been shaking so hard, I'd have opened it. If I had opened it, I dont like to think about what I might have done. I was flooded with comments telling me to get help. Close friends begged me not to do what I wanted so badly to. They dmed me left and right, but i ignored it. I felt numb. Everything had been hurting so much that when presented with death felt almost better. Obviously that was a ludicrous thought. It was a day and a half. I was being rash. But I didnt care. I couldnt take it anymore. I'm 15, I have severe anxiety and depression. When overwhelmed, my impulsive thoughts and actions take over.

A friend called me and had to talk me down over phone call while I was camping with my family. It was successful, of course, but the rest of the day I was plagued with a deep depression that left me feeling hollow and worthless. I still cant keep my thoughts away from it. I think about all the people I've lost. All the people who, in their eyes, I'm dead to. All the people who swore they'd be with me, but when push came to shove they couldnt even spare me a glance.

My crime was harassing a minor. I made assumptions I had no right to make and publicly blasted someone for having a panic attack. In no way was that okay and in no way am I entitled to be forgiven. However, I deleted the post. I released an apology. I took criticism as best I could, without blaming my actions on anything or anyone but myself. I did what they always tell you to do when you fuck up.

But it didnt work.

I *was* genuinely sorry.

I *did* recognize my mistake

I *tried* to make amends.

I *didn't* pass blame.

I fucked up. Hard. But no matter what I did no one would stop. I lost close friends. I lost a best friend. It almost seemed like I'd made it worse.

There is no moral. Because real life isnt black and white. I did an awful thing. These people did awful things too. There is more than one victim here. In people's quest to gain justice for me harassing a minor, they harassed a minor into near suicide and laughed at it.

Dont forget that behind EVERY account there is a real person. Be they adult or child, everyone will fuck up and even though in general we need to think before we post, like I clearly didnt, it is possible to learn from our actions and one negative one doesn't define a person.

I'll say this again.

To some people, people I trusted, people who said they cared about me, i am dead. They hate my guts. I'll never be redeemed. But I'm expected to improve myself with this knowledge. I'm supposed to take all the hate and never speak about the hate coming my way for fear of trying to victimize myself.

No. Fuck you.

I AM a victim. I was harassed as much as they were, and even though I threw the first stone, I never told anyone to die. I never lied about anyone. I didnt cancel them. I learned my mistake and apologized, but I KNOW that NO ONE will EVER be expected to apologize for what they did to me.

What I did was horrible. I am not entitled to forgiveness. I will repeat that a hundred times. But to beat me down until I'm nearly dead, to call me a freak and a pedo and a disgusting person, to tell me to kill myself, then laugh when I call myself a victim, is disgusting.

I DON'T deserve this, and I'm tired of having to pretend like I do.

By all means. Criticize me. Make jokes. Be harsh. But do NOT tell me to kill myself over a lack of forethought, and then have the guts to call yourself a "protector of kids." You're not.

You're only out to protect your friends, and the people who agree with you, other people's lives be damned. I dont matter to you. And you'll never admit that you hurt me.

#cancelled #tw suicide #tw suicide baiting #tw harassment

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feel199x · 5 years

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gang!au, gang member!han jisung, florist!reader, underground band!au

chapters: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X masterlist

warnings: angst and themes of abuse and trauma

🌸 a/n: i actually finished this fic, and it’ll be up in my queue to post over the weekend! it’s kind of exciting to be finally finishing this fic! a hint for the next chapter is at the end!! hehe

🌸 song rec: arsonist’s lullaby

Your eyelids were still heavy when you awoke. In front of you, though your eyes still blurry you made out a flower vase. You tried to move, suddenly desperate to feel the petals against your fingertips. Even though they were azaleas, petunias, globe amarths, carrot flowers, and asphodels- all dressed in a void black vase. You knew what it meant, you knew what it threatened. But you found your arms sore, propped up and irritated from the handcuffs that hung from the ceiling. As you looked down, your head getting too heavy for your neck to support, you found yourself surrounded eglantines, lemon and peach blossoms, lungworts, phlox, and red rose petals. You couldn’t help but let out a choked sob, your wrists burning, the metal digging into your skin. You arms stayed propped up, but the numb feeling began to spread through your body. You didn’t even look up as he came in, even as he made sure to slam the door shut.

“You know why you’re in here?” You didn’t answer, your voice all used up from crying. You could feel his fingers on your jaw, propping your face up so you could look straight up at him. You couldn’t make his face out completely, your vision blurred but not fading. There were already bruises there you knew, and he pressed down on them further. “Do you? I try so hard to control myself, and here you are, still acting up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you? I should just leave you here, let you learn your lesson.”

His thumb rested against your chin, looking at you intently- what could almost be mistaken as sympathy. It was deja vu, sitting there like a doll. “But I can’t resist you, can I?” No, you guess he couldn’t. That was the funny thing, right? He couldn’t expect to, how could he resist these primal urges? He talked and talked about nothing, and you were glad that you couldn’t pay attention to his words anyway, mind foggy and complacent. “I even brought you flowers. You didn’t have these in your shop, huh? So I got them. I’m a good husband.”

“Husband?”

“Good thing you’re pretty.” He got up, reaching over you and pulled something off your, well, ring finger. “See that? That cost more than your stupid shop.”

Stupid shop.

He slipped it back on, sitting back down next to you as he continued to talk.

“How long,” you paused, voice weak and raspy, quiet, “has it been?”

He seemed surprised by your question, eyebrows digging into his forehead in sudden anger. He got up and paced around the cramped room, not even bothering to watch him as you stared down at your own clothes- crinkled and dirty. “Why do you care?” he seethed, “I could treat you better than he ever could. A low-level drug dealer and a shitty, amateur rapper. Do you see lover boy here? No, you don’t. ‘Cause he’s dead.”

You let out a small gasp, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes and you looked at him. “What did you do?” you weeped, “Please- please, please tell me what you did.” His pacing came to a stop as he looked at you, face contorted with anger. “I got my co-workers to shoot him and friends dead, that’s what I did. Because you’re mine. Always and forever.”

You didn’t know what was true and what wasn’t- he couldn’t exactly be trusted. You grew impulsive, angry with him. Jisung would never, Jisung could never. He wasn’t that type of person- he could never take advantage of people, he could never keep something like that from of you. And here your captor was, smothering ash over Jisung’s name. But you knew he wasn’t lying about shooting Jisung and his friends, even if you didn’t want to believe it. He had tried the same thing with your family back then too. You felt guilty, at fault like you were the one behind the trigger. Anger bubbled like sparkling in your throat like bubbling water, steaming with impulsivity.

“You should kill me too then. I’d rather rot in the ground next to Jisung than spend another second looking at you.”

You knew your goal should’ve been to play the long game, especially after your failed attempt some time ago. How long has it been? You weren’t sure, there weren’t any windows in the room- and the white painted walls burned into your eyes. If you made him angry now, it would only take longer to gain his trust, but the damage was already done- you could feel the blood pouring out of the back of your head. You might’ve been dying, but you didn’t really care. You couldn’t even feel the pain from the hit from the adrenaline, so you continued to push your luck. Because it was true, Jisung had kept you going, your shop had kept you going. How would you ever be able to look another flower without seeing his face?

“He loved me better than you ever did and he didn’t even ask me to be his lover yet. Lover boy is better than you even dream about.”

It wasn’t like you to speak out of your turn, especially with the looming threat of death. You were too far gone, the warmth of blood streaming down your back. The bruises on your jaw from your grip deepening in color as his grip tightened, yelling some nonsense.

Still, even as he looked into your eyes, his breath hot on you- all you could think about was Jisung. How could you not? Your mind swam through melancholy memories.

You were in his arms tonight. His arms drooped over your shoulder, his head pressed against yours- lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered commentary about the movie you were watching. You were leaning against his chest, feeling his heart beat against your back. Knees propped up as his legs circled around you.

“I love you,” he murmured, “probably more than like, shrek.”

“I would hope so, shrek doesn’t feed you,” you paused, “But I love you too.”

And it was true, but you were unsure of the extent of your infatuation and devotion he was refering to. You wanted to say you were in love with him, but it was too much of a risk. If you scared him off now, who would come by your flower shop to spend time with you? Who would carry you off your bed during the weekends just to go to the convience store. Who would wrap arms and limbs around you and sing you to sleep at night after nightmares, after remembering? Did it even matter? You’ve never felt like this before, the only thing that came close was your devotion was your flowers. Maybe it should’ve scared you, that suddenly there was someone with so much importace to you, on the same level as the only thing that got through the Incident. You turned your head, the side pressed against Jisung’s chest. His arms moved to wrap around you waist, tightening around you. Your nose was touching his, lips only a breath away- but he was crying.

“Jisung,” you said softly, “Why are you crying? You chose this movie.”

“Do you think people in love will always end up together?”

You laced your hands in his, intertwining the both of them. “Of course,” you whispered, “Love finds a way.”

You thought it would happen then, his lips practically on top of yours- but it didn’t. He turned from you, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down- something caught in his throat. “Even if the person lied?”

“I guess it depends on the ‘sung. As long as it wouldn’t change your perception of the person in a way that hurt the relationship too much, I think they could make it.”

“What if it did? What if the person wasn’t as good as you thought they were?”

“Sung, is something going on? You can talk to me, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

“You can’t. I can’t. We can’t.”

“Sung,” You cupped his face, making him look at you. You turned around, and his embrace loosened but remained around your waist. “I love you. You’re my best friend. I love you more than my shop. I promise that I always will, no matter the circumstances. You’re a good person, I know that. I promise, I pinky-promise.” You held up your pinky, and he brushed away his tears wrapping his finger around yours.

You don’t remember exactly what he had said before he left, something about a band dropping out of the club he played at. He had gotten a call and gathered his things almost immediately. You offered to go with him, you always wanted to see him live with his fans but he always refused. He said that it wasn’t your scene, and all grimy- it wasn’t somewhere you should be, not a play for someone pure as you. But you didn’t feel pure and insisted that he was the purer of you two. But it didn’t matter, when Jisung’s mind was set, it was set. He kissed your forehead, and before the door close he wrapped his pinky around yours without another word.

And then Jisung disappeared again.

It wasn’t the first time, but it was one of the longest. The days dragged on, the day having to pull and drag the night up into the sky. Even the sky’s star shined dimly, there only because of obligation. Ever since you started making arrangements back home at your mother’s flower store, you never liked roses much. But now you were starting to understand people’s obsession with them. It was an iconic symbol of love, everyone’s go-to, and you supposed there was a good reason for that. Its smell was sickeningly sweet, and the petals like velvet. You started getting letters in the mail. It happened every day. And even though you were flattered, you began to get worried. Worry arising.

After four months, you finally saw Jisung again. He kept somewhat in contact, but he had been busy. There were two months with complete radio silence, and one night you saw news coverage of shots fired in a car chase. You hadn’t put two and two together then, not even as you saw Jisung slightly limp as he moved around your store. You remember being conflicted about asking him, but as he kept telling you about his stories featuring his group members, you got lost.

That’s the night it all happened.

But before that, way before that. Maybe it really was love at first sight.

After the hose incident, you found Jisung lingering around your store until closing time. He had brought sweets every day for two weeks until you invited him back up to your apartment.

“Thank god,” he groaned, “My grandmother said if it didn’t work this time, she was going to interfere. Jokes on her, though, I’ve been stealing sweets forever.”

You laughed, getting bold after closing the shop and tugging at his wrist as you pulled him up the metal spiral stairs. “I would be more worried about Minho,” you teased, “you’d better not be slacking off during practice or he’ll chew you out.”

“Ew, ugh! Don’t remind me.”

“So, um,” you looked down, “What do you want to do?”

“Can I pick a movie?”

He had chosen a romance movie, you could’ve gone to the theater instead, but he insisted that he would pay you back for the fee- and that going to the theater would never be better than streaming at home. You didn’t mind romance movies, they were fun to watch. But during the less tense parts of the movies, you could feel yourself falling asleep and before you knew it your head was on his shoulder. If you were less sleepy, you would’ve freaked out as he pulled you closer is fingers lightly drawing shapes on your hips. You awoke when you felt Jisung’s chest heave and you looked up to see him crying. It was the first time you saw Jisung cry, and it broke your heart.

“Jisung, are you okay? We can change the movie if it’s too much…”

“No! Sorry, it’s just…”

“It’s just?”

“I don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than love. I’m going to have a love like this one day. And I can’t wait. Thinking about makes me cry.”

You were awake now. Eyes glazed over, still heavy with exhaustion and sleep. The blood down your back had dried now, you could feel your hair all bunched together and sticky with the flaky dried and blood. It was throbbing, pulsing almost- the headache was unbearable. How long has it been? How long would it be? You tried moving your legs, a numb static began to make you grow in discomfort. It was for the better though, because otherwise you would’ve felt the rope digging in and around your ankles. It was hard, you had to press your wrists further against the cuffs in order to help yourself. It was awkward, like a baby learning how to walk. It must’ve been hours when you stood there, the feeling finally returning to your legs. Your arms were relieved with the ability to relax, even if they were in an awkward position. They were still strung up, but at least your upper arm could relax.

The flowers in the room had been replaced, but the petals around you were starting to become crisp and brown. Alstroemerias, altheas, arbutus, red and yellow balsams, Japanese rose, jumpers, and kalmias. It made you shiver with disgust and fear. Where was he getting these flowers? Was he going back to your shop?

You collapsed suddenly, your legs caving in on yourself. Your wrists pulled at harshly as your knees hit the floor. Have you eaten? You couldn’t have, how long has it been? Your stomach began to turn, you were hungry, but that was the least of your worries. Was Jisung really dead? What about his friends, Minho, Chan and everyone else? Were they dead too? How were you to expected to live with yourself, knowing you had brought his misfortune on all of them? If they were alive, how could you expect them to forgive you for the mess you had made? You couldn’t, and you would have to live with the guilt of hurting Jisung for the rest of your life. Because you knew it was dangerous, falling in love with someone knowing that it could be turned against you at any moment- but you did anyway. And now you had dug your own grave. Thoughts were growing difficult to form, the space growing through your coherent thoughts. All you could was feel.

How much time has passed? Months? Weeks? Days? Hours? Minutes? All you knew was white. You could see the walls fill in the spots in your vision. It was irrational, but you began to hate the white painted walls. The lack of color was draining you, except for the vase in front of you. You wanted to kick it, destroy it completely- you wanted to move and release everything- every emotion and irrational thought boiling with impulsivity in your head. The only thought going through your head, getting louder and louder, blocking the diminishing number of coherent thoughts.

Jisung is dead.

You cried, even as dehydrated as you were. Your voice was raspy, and you couldn’t even speak words of comfort to yourself. You couldn’t remember, you couldn’t make them out.”It’s…going….to...be...okay.” Maybe it was pathetic but you were the only one you could lean on. You couldn’t hang on to the hope that someone was going to rescue you, especially if the only people you were dead- or angry because of the mess you had caused.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

You looked up, vision spotty and glazed with tears, and nodded desperately. You were mad at yourself for giving in so easily. “You’re pretty like this, “ he cooed, “All broken down and desperate.” He stroked your hair, fingers getting caught in your bloodied hair. “I bet you’re hungry, hm? I’m not going to let you go, so you’re going to have to let me feed you. I’d hate to have to...well, you know.”

You wish you didn’t.

It felt like you were giving in as you ate, the food dry and difficult to swallow. He sat there for a while. The water he made you drink missed your mouth and streamed down your neck. You sat there, helpless, unable to clean yourself. “What a pretty mess,” he murmured, “What a pretty mouth. Just for me.” You hated him, you did. You hated him like forest fire, like the damage of a natural disaster. He disgusted you, he was disgusting- time and time again, he had taken everything that mattered to you. And he won. You felt pathetic, useless. Jisung was dead, dead and gone and you felt like it was all your fault. It made you shake, your heart thumping against your ribcage, begging to get out.

His phone rang, the ringtone burning in your ear. “Yes… I told you...Just get it...Dead.” He must’ve heard you lean against the metal cuffs, because he got up. He smiled, using his thumb to wipe the water off your lips. You were beginning to panic again, maybe it was a small chance that he was talking about Jisung and stray kids, but any chance was big enough to get worried. Before he closed the door, before you could give a second thought: “Help me take..a bath. Please.” Even with your soft, raspy and broken voice, it was enough to get his attention. Words were getting harder to form, it was getting to harder to even think- but you had to warn them, even if you don’t know what the danger was. Because if the call was about them, some of them were alive- and that meant you could clean up some of your mess, or at least make up for it. He ended the call quickly, uncuffing you. You arms immediately dropped, hands slamming against the floor.

“I knew you would come around. But you’d better behave. I don’t care if I have to hurt you to keep you complacent.” You watched as he pulled at your legs, untying the rope that kept your legs together. You struggled to get up, so he opted to carry you, throwing you over his back. It hurt your eyes to be flooded with color as he carried you to the bathroom. The bath ran and you sat in the warm water, he was watching you as he sat on the toilet cover. The feeling was returning to your body as the water in the filling bathtub lapped against you. “Help...me.” You didn’t want him to touch you, you never wanted to feel his fingers brush against your bare skin. You didn’t trust him, and you never would. Especially not after he did, or tried to do with Jisung. But more than anger, you felt guilt. It was overwhelming, contradictory feelings making your head spin even more. You shuddered as you felt the soap against your back.

“I missed you,” he murmured, “I’ve been searching for you for so long, waited for you so long.”

You swallowed hard, biting your lip as he continued. “I watched you for months. I wanted to take you and carry you away in the night, but I wanted to make him watch. He needed to know you were mine.” You felt hot water pour over your head, the bathtub becoming decorated in a red tint. “I almost gave up, I thought I had lost you completely. But then I saw you with lover boy. I wanted to kill him right there, I wanted to kill everyone but you. He gave a good fight though, beat the shit out of me. But guess who’s dead and who’s got the love?” He laughed at that, massaging something into your hair and picking at the flecks. You felt your wound burn and you moved to cover it, but he slapped your hand away. “Me. I won. You’re all mine, and if I ever see him again. I’ll kill everyone. I’m the only one who loves, okay? Not Jisung, not anyone else. You’re mine.” You heard him murmur that again and again. “I love you, you’re mine, mine.” You brought your knees to your chest, glad that the water hid the fact that you were crying. He didn’t push you to get up though, at least he was that decent. You watched as the red water swirled down the drain. He left and brought a towel, and your dress was clean and pressed. He sat on the toilet cover again, watching in case you wanted to pull something again.

This time you walked, content with being able to feel your weight shift as you walked. You knew this feeling, what it felt like to be completely devoid of basic powers. He led you back to the room, watching the phone in his back pocket. As you entered the room, you took an interest in the flowers. They were beautiful, despite what they meant. It was the only color in the white void of a room, and it mocked you. Your fingers caressed the petals, and the smell was haunting. Your heart was beating again, and you did your best to keep your face blank.

“Aren’t they nice? I got them just for you. You don’t even know what they mean, do you?

“No...tell me.”

“Nah. It’s a secret just for me.”

He moved to set up your ties again, and you got up, legs wobbling with a slight shake as your grip around the black vase tightened. It was now or never. It didn’t happen in slow motion- you knew that wasn’t possible. But you watched as the vase shattered against the back of his head, falling, bursting into tiny pieces as the flowers fell to his feet and he toppled. You knew there was no way he would be down for long, so you fished the phone out of his pockets. You panicked as you ran around the large house, searching for a room to hide in the meanwhile. His phone was locked, but you saw the screen unlock as you typed in your anniversary. You didn’t know where you were, a random room with various boxes. You slide the closet door open, met with the smell of mothballs but you entered anyway. There was a lot of stuff, and you piled things on top of you as you typed Jisung’s number.

It fell to voicemail, and you felt tears well up in your eyes.

“Jisung….it’s me….don’t have time, please...he’s send..ing...someone. Be safe..please...I’m in love.... with you. I’m sorry.”

You ended the call, typing in the emergency number.

“What’s your emergency?”

“I’m trapped...abducted.”

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Okay, stay calm okay? Please stay on the line as long as you can.”

“Can’t..he’s coming. Oh god, I’m as good...as dead.”

“Can you tell me his name please?”

“_____”

“____, as in the gang leader?”

“Yes.”

“I need you to stay on the line okay. Do you remember where you last were?”

“Boseong, my shop...flower shop..mirror.”

You heard the door slam open and the closet door slide open with a large creak.

“Sweetheart? Are you still there? Sweetheart, stay on the line. Is he in the room-?”

“Caught.”

azaleas: fragility

petunias: your prescense soothes me

globe amaranths: immortality, unfading love

carrot flowers: do not refuse me

asphodel in a black vase: death threat

eglatines: i wound to heal

lemon blossom: fidelity in love

peach blossom: i am your captive

lungworts: thou art my life

phlox: our souls are united, unanimity

alstroemerias: devotion

altheas: consumed by love

arbutus: love only for you

red balsams: touch me not, impatient resolve

yellow balsams: impatience

japanese rose: beauty is your only attraction

jumpers: asylum, aid, protection

kalmias: treachery

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