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carryonsimoncarryonbaz · 3 years

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Hey there! thanks for the AWTWB asks you’ve been answering—they’ve helped me process some parts of the book and think things through.

that being said I’ve got one of my own questions for you.

one of the things I really loved about Carry On was Simon and Penny’s friendship. One of the things I appreciated about WS was the friendship between Baz and Penny.

but we didn‘t see much of either of those in AWTWB and that kind of bummed me out. What are your thoughts on the lack of those interactions?

hello anon, thanks for the ask! This might be a long one, so bear with me!

Simon and Penny's friendship is one of many wonderful parts of these books. Like you, it's one of the things I've loved to read. I was also so gratified to see that Baz and Penny grew to have such a deep and caring friendship in WS.

It may seem like we don't see those friendships "on screen" in the same way in AWTWB but I do think there are reasons for that, reasons that make a great deal of sense building on the previous books.

Simon and Penny's friendship is introduced in CO and we see it as rock solid through that book. I don't think there was any doubt as to the mutuality and depth of that relationship. It continues, albeit affected by Simon's personal trauma, in WS. In WS we also see the introduction of Baz and Penny's friendship--forged in their mutual care and love for Simon but being a distinct and separate entity as well, a love and caring for each other that goes alongside the relationship they have through Simon.

I don't think AWTWB diminishes those friendships. But circumstances have altered–based on Simon's decision early in the book to withdraw himself from the World of Mages, from the revelations about themselves the trip to America brought forth, with how they choose to move forward based on those circumstances.

I think CO and WS did a good job establishing the foundation and strength of Simon's friendship with Penny and the Baz and Penny one as well. I don't think there is any doubt in AWTWB that they all care very deeply for each other.

But Simon has drawn a line. A boundary. He believes he needs to be distinct and separate from the World of Mages to move forward, to get unstuck. He makes that very clear to Penny in his conversation with her, a conversation that is off-screen for very good reasons I think. One reason being it having a stronger emotional punch when Simon tells Baz (and us) in the break-up chapter--it would have been diluted if we had already heard his reasoning. Instead we get to hear Penny explain her understanding of it to Baz before Simon gives us the much more emotionally devastating version he gives Baz.

We get to see Penny making some very crucial realisations about the co-dependant relationship she and Simon had developed, about her own decisions and reactions to what had been going on in Simon's life. And her role as his friend and confidant. She is seeing things through a different lens–since the Mage's death, since Simon's spiral, since the trip to America. Mitali is rather harsh in her observations but Penny did thrive on the excitement and intrigue of the missions, her role as dread companion, the rush of research, intuition, and creative spell casting that she would contribute. But we saw even in CO that Penny had reached a point of wanting to spirit Simon away, to keep him safe, to pull him away from the World of Mages herself. A part of her that intuitively knew his life as a boy-soldier was unhealthy and hurtful to him in the long run. There is certainly a part of Penny that likely blames herself for not seeing through the Mage earlier, for not in some way protecting Simon or helping him avoid what ultimately happened. Not that she necessarily could have, but she would be thinking about it.

We know Baz feels that way as well. We hear Dr. Wellbelove voice a regret we know those closest to Simon would be feeling. Penny loves Simon. She does respect him. But she has put herself in a “taking care of him” role that takes away some of his agency and leads to a challenging dynamic. She and Baz both, in WS, but Penny has a longer history of that. After America she has come to a realisation that perhaps she has enabled or encouraged some of the situations they have found themselves in, that have been detrimental to Simon in the long run. That her mantra of Simon needing her hasn’t necessarily been healthy for their relationship. He sets a boundary with her and she chooses to respect it, not bulldoze right over it, as she may have in the past. This is a huge moment of character growth for her. She isn't relinquishing her relationship with Simon. She's giving him the freedom to do what he feel is right for him in the moment. She loves and trusts him enough to give him space when she understands he needs it. She doesn't like it, it hurts like hell, but she knows this agency and control and decision making on his own terms is vital for him. And when he calls her back, to help solve some new magickal conundrum, she doesn't let herself get drawn in. She keeps her promise to him, even if he's the one crossing the boundary.

It also allows her to be her own hero, if that makes sense. To be the hero of her own story, to approach something on her own terms. She bemoans the fact that she doesn't have Simon and Baz to listen to her think through things when she's with Shepard but the reality is she doesn't need them to do that--she can do this herself. It's empowering and a shift in her own experience. It also allows her to open herself up to someone new, let someone else in to her tiny circle.

I also think it's important in this story to see that just because someone asks for space, or needs some distance or agency, it doesn't necessarily mean you're losing them forever or that they are permanently rejecting you. Or that you’ve done something irrevocable. People need to grow and process and change and sometimes they need the space and freedom to do so. I think that's a very meaningful point. They last a little over a week apart but it's a week that provides them both with insight and growth. And they find themselves again, stronger than before, when they are back together.

And Simon talks it out with Penny. Baz tells him he should and he does. And it's ok that conversation is offscreen. We know the love they have for each other. We know Penny hates emotional conversations (her whole issue with saying goodbye from Carry On). It's not a scene we need to see--it's ok that it's private. It's how they'd want it.

We don't see as much of Baz and Penny's friendship, which you also mention, but I think again that's ok. It doesn't mean it ceases to exist--it simply continues on in the background as Simon and Baz's relationship work takes the forefront. Yes, Baz and Penny have a disagreement about Simon. But their friendship remains. They still communicate. They are still there for each other in the pivotal later scenes surrounding Smith. That hasn't changed. They have each others backs. They always will. I don't think Penny truly begrudges the fact that Simon and Baz have had this time together--I think she is very aware of how much they care for each other and that they needed to sort themselves to move forward also.

I hope this answered your question. The tl;dr is basically their friendships endure, even when not explicitly on the page. We don’t necessarily need to see them to know they’re there—the groundwork has been laid. We know their history and the depth of those friendships and that this time apart allowed for growth and progress and healthy boundaries and understanding. All good things. And in the end, they're all in this together, for each other and in support of each other.

#cscb answers #follower asks #asks #Simon and Penny #Penny and Baz #relationships #character growth #sorry this is so long #I hope this answered your question #simon snow #Penelope bunce #baz pitch #friendship #cscb rambles #awtwbspoiler #awtwbspoilers #awtwb spoilers

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zevlors-tail · 3 years

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A/N: This was an emergency request from forever ago, and I’m SO SORRY it took so long to finish! Tumblr also deleted the original ask, so I don’t have it anymore, but it was for a poly tododeku x chubby reader who gained weight during quarantine. I hope this was what you wanted, and again, I’m so sorry it took so long! I also don’t have a title for this RIP.

Pairing: Poly TodoDeku x Chubby Reader

Words: 4k

Warnings: Insecurities about weight gain, weight gain, cursing, reader weighing themselves with a scale if that’s a trigger for you.

You yawned as you stretched, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. It was currently nine in the morning and both of your partners had already snuck out of bed to go to work for the day. You envied them a little, seeing as they got to leave the house often while you were cooped up inside all of the time no thanks to quarantine. Of course, you still worried for their health- although most hero agencies were taking preventative measures during the ongoing pandemic, there was still the chance that one (or god forbid, both) of them could come into contact with the very virus that quarantine sought to combat. You tried not to think about that idea too much, instead focusing on a smaller annoyance: the fact that your job wasn’t deemed essential enough to stay open during this time.

Sure, you were working from home, but the way things were now there was hardly anything for you to do anyways, and most nights you were finished with your tasks early. This gave you plenty of free time, which in reality would have been much more enjoyable if you were able to actually leave the house, but no. You were stuck at home instead, boredom and restlessness rotting your brain of anything useful. You’d done everything you could think of to occupy yourself; you cleaned your kitchen, washed your clothes, folded all the laundry. Hell, you even started dusting the mantle in the living room for god’s sake. But you could only clean so much, and even with two of Japan’s top pro heroes tracking in dirt and grime each night from work, the house was usually spotless by 5pm. The only things you had left to occupy yourself at that point were video games, movies, and food.

Oh…and of course, overthinking.

Perhaps that was how you’d ended up where you were now, your legs carrying you out of bed and to the bathroom mirror to see if your current suspicions were true. About a month ago, you had noticed that one of your favorite shirts (newly found and washed, since you’d finally made it through all that pesky laundry) wasn’t fitting quite right. You didn’t think much of it at the time, passing it off as drying it for a bit too long or using too high of a heat setting. But a week later, you had the same problem occur with a pair of newer pants, and suddenly you felt self conscious. You tried to to push the feeling to the back of your mind, to stay positive and not worry about it, but it was always there. No matter how much you smiled, no matter how many times you told yourself it didn’t matter, the last thing on your mind every night was the fearful thought that you might have gained weight recently.

You’d never been slim; you had been curvy for as long as you could remember, but even from a young age you learned to be confident in yourself and your body. You always had a strong sense of self, always told yourself that your weight did not equal your worth. You knew better, and it showed. People looked up to you and admired you for that. You never cared how much you weighed; you just let your bubbly personality shine through like a midsummer’s day ray of sun. You practically glowed when you were with your friends, the sparkly smile on your face never once faltering as you laughed with them and helped them pick out new outfits they liked during mall outings. So…why should now be any different?

As you stared at yourself in the mirror, you felt anxiety start to creep up your spine, winding tightly around your throat like a constricting snake before pooling in your stomach, as heavy as a stone. Your lungs tightened and you hardly felt like you were getting any air as you looked yourself over. It was hard to tell just from your reflection…but it did seem like you had gained weight. Well, there was only one way to know for sure.

Your eyes caught the gleam of the metal scale in the corner of the room, the square shaped object intimidating you just by lying there on the floor. It was a perfectly normal thing to keep on hand in a perfectly normal household, even more so when you were in a relationship with two pro heroes who worked out and kept track of their weight on a weekly basis. Regardless, nothing about using the scale felt normal to you. You only weighed yourself at the doctor’s office, and that was it. But you wanted to know- no, you had to. It was bothering you too much not to.

Everything about this felt foreign to you. The way the scale came to life suddenly as you stepped on it, the way it took it’s time to recalibrate as you stepped back off, and the way it set itself to “zero” when it finally booted up...all of it. It felt odd when you finally pressed all of your weight to it, awkwardly waiting for the flashing numbers on the tiny digital screen to settle. And when they did, you couldn’t help but frown. You remembered a ballpark number from your last doctor’s visit, and you were nowhere near that number anymore.

You had definitely gained weight since quarantine started.

Not wanting to stand there any longer than necessary, you hopped off the scale holding back tears and tossed your clothes to the floor, opting for a shower. That would make you feel better, and then maybe you would just forget about it. You weren’t going to let this bring you down. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Lunch gave you more anxiety later on and only served as a reminder about your weight gain. But you ate anyways, because you were hungry and you knew you deserved to regardless of your weight. Still, the anxious feelings remained for the rest of the night. You only forgot about it when Izuku and Shouto returned from work minutes apart from each other, their smiles and hugs effectively chasing away any self doubts or worries that you harbored. After all, it was hard to feel anxious when you were wrapped up in a giant group hug, kisses and “I missed you’s!” being given and received all at once. The night ended on a good note, and in the end you fell asleep feeling safe and secure while nestled in between the two most beloved people in your life.

Morning came too soon, and with it, the familiar sensation of dread that you were trying not to grow accustomed to at this point, especially after yesterday. Today’s a new day, you told yourself. I can do this. You noticed that both men were once again up and at ‘em, already at work by the time you woke which left you alone in the spacious bed to your own devices. You, however, happened to have the day off, so you made a beeline for the kitchen to get breakfast before reclining on the couch, T.V. turned on for background noise while you surfed the web on your laptop. After you were finished eating, you cleaned up your dishes and took out the trash, and it was only as you were headed to the bathroom to shower afterwards that you caught sight of the sticky note on the mirror. It was in Shouto’s handwriting, short and sweet and to the point all at the same time.

Half day at work today. Be back at noon. Love you both. Shouto.

Upon closer inspection there was more writing underneath that, a little messier but still legible with a shaded in little heart drawn underneath it all.

Late shift tonight, don’t wait up for me. -Izuku <3

You smiled at the note before taking a seat on the edge of your bathtub to turn on the shower. You felt a bit of reprieve from your heavy feelings, but it was short lived as a sporadic thought crossed your mind in an attempt to seemingly ruin the rest of your day. You weren’t sure where it came from or why it was there, only that it was taking up space in your mind, and you couldn’t help yourself as you glanced to the corner of the room where the scale was supposed to be. Even though you already knew what numbers it was going to display, that didn’t stop you from wandering over and weighing yourself once more. Or, you would have, if the scale had been there. Oddly enough, it seemed to be missing. You looked around the floor for it feeling silly- all of this just to weight yourself even when you knew the outcome already? But you continued looking for it anyway. Just to make sure, you told yourself.

You found it in the cupboard under the sink, pushed all the way back to the right corner of the bottom shelf where it would be hard to spot. You didn’t think to question how it got there or who might have put it there. The only thing on your mind was confirming the digital numbers you’d discovered yesterday, so that was exactly what you did. You laid the scale on the floor before weighing yourself, and you felt…disappointed. Seeing the numbers on the screen spelled it out clearly for you, and suddenly you were spiraling again, worry settling deep into your soul as everything started to really sink in. What if other people could tell that you gained weight? What if they were judging you for it? What would they say? What would the boys think? Oh god, your boyfriends. Could they see it too? Did they pity you so much that they kept it to themselves but knew the whole time? And if they did know…how did they think about you now? Did they think you were disgusting? Did they still love you? Maybe they knew but didn’t say anything because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings?

Your thoughts spiraled out of control as you stripped down, clothes haphazardly landing wherever you tossed them. You practically entered the shower like a zombie, the boiling hot water doing little to calm your mind and ease the worries eating away at you. By the time you had lathered your hair in conditioner and started on body wash while the former was setting in, you’d been in the shower for quite some time, at least for a half hour, and the sound of the front door opening and shutting did nothing to phase you as you rinsed off the suds. Shouto’s muffled voice carried down the hallway and into the bathroom where you were as he kicked off his shoes at the front door.

“I’m home!”

It didn’t take you long to finish up after that, and soon you were drying the water off with your favorite fluffy towel and getting dressed in an old pair of comfort clothes. Since there was no need to pretend to act professional today, why not dress comfortably instead? You weren’t feeling very high maintenance today anyways.

“Hey babe.” There was a knock on the bathroom door just as you were finishing up getting dressed and tugging your shirt over your chest. You reached out a foot to swing the door open since both your hands were full, and Shouto peered in to greet you with a kiss to the cheek before nuzzling his face into yours. But you were too anxious and preoccupied to do anything other than let him love on you as hot steam filtered out through the now open door. “What would you like for dinner tonight?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Hm, not sure. I don’t feel like making any decisions at the moment, so whatever you want is probably fine.” You finally toweled off your hair before fixing it up the way you wanted, then exited the bathroom with your partner in tow. You missed the way his gaze flitted to the corner briefly before he followed you out into the hallway.

“Are you sure?” he asked you, head tilting to the side in question.

“Yep, go ahead and pick. I don’t care either way.”

Something in your tone made him stand back for bit and watch with crossed arms as you wandered around the house with seemingly no objective. You weren’t really sure what you were doing; you didn’t really have the energy to be your happy go lucky self like usual, and so you hardly could pay attention to Shouto and shower him with your love like you normally did when he came home from work. Not to mention, you already had breakfast and watched TV, so now you just weren’t sure what to do. You felt like you were just going through the motions, in a daze like a zombie who couldn’t focus. Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice him come up behind you and place a hand on your shoulder, effectively scaring you out of your trance while you stood aimlessly by the couch.

“Are you alright? You seem a little off today.” He gently pulled you down to the couch with him, arms open for you to lay in while you cuddled up to his warm side.

“Huh? Oh, yeah! I’m just thinking a lot, sorry. Did you figure out what you wanted for dinner?”

Snap out of it, Y/N.

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing more, letting the subject drop at that. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could order some take out and watch a movie at home. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to spend some one on one time with you. I missed you. And Izuku too…”

“I missed you too.” You let him envelope you in a tight hug, some of the stress and fogginess melting away immediately. You were thankful he only had a half day today; it was entirely possible that you might have just sat at home on the couch all day zoning out until one of the boys came home. “Oh,” you added as an afterthought, “make sure you click no contact delivery and tip well. I know you do already, but it’s especially important now.”

A small smile formed as he kissed the top of your head. “Anyone who’s willing to bring food to my love is going to get tipped extremely well. And if we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic, I would tell them thank you in person for providing for my sweet.”

“And if they aren’t willing to deliver?” you challenged.

“Then I would still tip them and say thank you, because they make their living off of that. Life is hard enough without me adding even more stress to their day, isn’t it?”

“You’re a kind person, Shouto. I love you.”

The rest of the night passed by fast, food arriving earlier than you thought it would and Shouto picking one of your favorite movies to watch as the two of you snuggled up under a comfy blanket on the couch. You fell asleep on his chest, his heartbeat lulling you off while you pressed your cheek into the crook of his neck for warmth. It was easy to feel relaxed and comfortable like that, his arms wrapped around you creating a sense of security and safety that you adored.

You were a bit confused when you woke up in bed instead of on the couch the next morning. The last thing you remembered had been the steady rise and fall of your lover’s chest; taking in your surroundings, you realized you were now laying against your usual pillow and just about swaddled in the covers. Whoever had moved you last night had taken care to make sure you were comfortable and cozy while you slept.

“Mornin, sleepyhead,” someone murmured behind you. A hand found itself against your stomach, fingers splayed to lovingly rub against your midriff as Izuku curled around you from behind. You pressed up against him for warmth before turning to face him, and when your eyes met you could see the weariness from his night shift reflected in his gaze. The word exhausted was practically written across his forehead.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“A couple hours. Work was…tiring.”

You absentmindedly brought a hand to his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek before you ruffled his hair affectionately. He let out a heavy sigh as you doted on him, eyes closing in bliss. “You okay?”

He seemed to enjoy your touch for a moment longer before reaching up to take your hand in his much larger one, eyes fluttering back open as he pressed a kiss to your open palm and made a soft noise of content. “Mm, I’m more worried about you.”

Normally his actions would leave butterflies in your stomach and make your heart beat a little bit faster. Normally, you would appreciate the concern. But you would be lying if you said you weren’t confused- What was there to be worried about? It wasn’t like anything was obviously wrong; the three of you had been doing well recently with no major arguments and no qualms with each other or your living situation. The biggest problem you had was getting the boys to pick up after themselves when it came to laundry, but that was easily solved with one stern look and an apologetic smile as they rushed to clean up their mess. So it wasn’t about your relationship in general, but about you specifically. Was there something you had done, something you had said? You wracked your brain for a reason to cause your partners concern but could find none.

Shouto walked into the room just then, pulling your attention away from Izuku briefly as he made his way over to you. He slipped into the bed on your other side, the mattress dipping under his weight and squeaking as he nuzzled up against you. With you sandwiched in between the two of them, Izuku sought to continue his conversation with you.

“You do know the scale keeps track of numbers, don’t you, love?”

It took you a minute, but you were sure both boys could tell the moment that it clicked in your mind. The sheer amount of horror you felt was enough to steal your breath away, your eyes going wide as you realized what he was trying to say. They knew. They both knew, and you were terrified of what they would say. This was the last thing you wanted to deal with this morning, the one thing you didn’t want them to find out. You weren’t sure how to react other than to try and hide your face into the pillow, so that’s exactly what you tried to do. But shoving your face into the pillow couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted it to, and soon you were furiously trying to wipe your cheeks dry as you stammered out something, anything to explain yourself.

“Normally this wouldn’t bother me! I’m s-sorry, I don’t know why it’s gotten to me like this…”

“Y/N, listen to us. Please?” Todoroki’s voice seemed to calm you a bit, the deep baritone sound grounding you as you nodded to let them know you would listen. “Izuku mentioned to me two days ago that the weights on the scale were different. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then when I came home yesterday, the scale was back out after I had put it away, which means you were the one who got it out, right?”

“Y-Yeah…so?”

“That means the different weight must be yours.” Izuku booped your nose with his finger lightly, a gentle smile gracing his lips as you stared up at him. “Sho said you’ve been acting strange lately, and I’ve seen it too. You just haven’t seemed like yourself, baby. Especially for the past couple of days…” Had you really been acting different? Come to think of it, you might have been a little more anxious and stressed than usual about your weight, and those feelings had seeped into your every day activities, slowing you down and making you feel sluggish and out of sorts. “You know we love you no matter what, right?”

You nodded once again but remained silent, too upset and relieved at the same time to say anything.

“It doesn’t matter how much weight you gain. We’ll still love you the same, and nothing could ever change that. Besides, quarantine has affected all three of us. You’re not alone in this.” Shouto rested his chin on your head as he spoke, a single arm draped over you and Izuku.

“I gained weight too since the start of all of this,” Deku admitted with a sheepish look. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, though! It just means Shouto makes really good food. And you still love me, right?”

“Of course I do. I love you regardless of that.” You were quick to respond, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“See? We feel the same way. You didn’t even notice I’d gained weight until I said something, right?”

You hated to admit it, but he was right. To be truthful, you hadn’t noticed, and you hadn’t cared. Izuku was still your love no matter what he weighed, and you were much too captivated with his luscious green curls half the time to pay attention to something trivial like that unless he brought attention to it like he had done now.

“It’s okay to feel upset about it. We’re here for you no matter what, and you can always come to us with anything that’s bothering you. But something like this won’t change how we feel about you, and it never will. We just want you to feel good about yourself and love yourself. And if it makes you feel better…you saw how much of that pizza I had last night, right? I ate over half of the whole thing. I’m sure I’ve gained weight too.” Shouto laughed a little.

“You’re our whole world, Y/N. You deserve everything good that we can provide you and you’re worthy of all of the love we can smother you in.”

As if to prove his point, both boys gave you a bone crushing hug and rubbed their faces against you. Somehow, some way, they always managed to chase away your troubles and make you feel wanted and needed.

“Thank you both,” you managed to squeak out.

“We love you, Y/N.” Shouto pulled away from the two of you and sat up, a hand running along your side in a comforting way. “Do you have a preference on breakfast?”

“Bacon and eggs,” came the immediate reply from a smirking Izuku.

“That’s too bad, because I wasn’t asking you!” The other boy just laughed.

“Bacon and eggs are fine. But can we make pancakes too? With maple syrup and blueberries!” you added.

Izuku’s head shot up at the mention of pancakes, eyes so bright and excited you almost couldn’t tell he was sleep deprived. Almost. “I second that!”

“Alright, alright. Pancakes it is. But you,” Shouto turned to you, “stay here in bed and relax with Izuku. Make sure he rests his eyes a bit, please. I’ll bring the two of you breakfast in bed.” He cupped your face in his hands and brought you in for a tender kiss, and you felt every little bit of care and concern he put behind it. He gave Izuku the same treatment before standing to leave, his eyes locked on the two of you still laying in bed. “I better not hear either of you get up while I’m busy, or else.”

“What if I have to use the bathroom?” Your teasing words earned you an eye roll and a smirk.

“You know what I mean. Be good.” And just like that, he was on his way to the kitchen.

Beside you, Izuku snuck up on you while you were turned away from him, his strong arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you close while he started to press kisses against your neck.

“Izuku…” you whined.

“What?"

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you how much I love you.”

You felt the return of butterflies in your stomach as your heart raced. Izuku crawled over you and straddled your waist, lips still attached to your neck but slowly working their way down.

“This isn’t resting, you know.”

“I don’t care."

#poly tododeku x reader #tododeku x reader #poly bnha #poly bnha x reader #izuku x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku #midoriya #shouto todoroki #todoroki shouto #shouto #todoroki

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teawithkpop · 4 years

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[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 6.0k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY

I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3

☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕

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We must build a brighter future for PhysComs. They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer. We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts. As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other. These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows. It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.

You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.

What the fuck does this mean?

You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.

“Yeah?”

You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”

He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"

As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?

“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”

Pity.

No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.

Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.

You’ll become someone they pity.

Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-

You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.

Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.

You’ve failed.

You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.

"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."

He seems hesitant to reply.

“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”

The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.

-------

“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.

This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.

“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.

“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.

“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”

The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.

“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan. “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”

You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.

You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.

She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”

The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.

Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”

-------

Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.

You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.

“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”

You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.

“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.

A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”

Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”

You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.

He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.

"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.

“You fainted,” he replies somberly.

You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”

His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”

There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.

You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.

“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.

“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”

Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.

And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.

Fuck, what are you thinking?

You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.

You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.

That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.

And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.

You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.

Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.

You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.

You need to remind them of your place.

Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…

You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”

Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.

Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.

Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”

“What do you-?”

But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.

“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.

Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”

“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”

Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.

“No, but Jimin is supposed to-”

Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.

“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.”

Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.

Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”

You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.

You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.

But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.

Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.

You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.

You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.

“Did you miss me, Master Min?”

Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”

Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.

You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.

“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”

"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.

You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.

“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said.

Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.

You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”

He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.

He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.

It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.

But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.

Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.

He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.

You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.

"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.

He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"

"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"

His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"

He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."

He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.

He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"

You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.

You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.

"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.

While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.

You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.

"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."

"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"

Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."

This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.

But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"

He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.

"Yoongi!"

But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.

You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.

But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.

Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.

"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.

"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."

You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.

You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."

You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.

You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."

"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.

But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.

He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."

You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.

He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.

He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.

"Such a good whore, yeah… just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"

You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.

"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.

He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”

The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?

You redouble your efforts to please him.

"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"

He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.

“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.

You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.

He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"

He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."

You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."

He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.

You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.

"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."

You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.

"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.

"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."

You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.

Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.

After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.

Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.

You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.

But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.

It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.

"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.

"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.

You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?

No.

You peak.

A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.

It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.

You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.

He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.

Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

He’s the only one you’ve ever told.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”

Your ComGear. The settings.

You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.

… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.

They’re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader smut #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts ot7 x reader #bts fic rec #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #thank you all for enjoying physcom! <3

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imaginethoseguys · 3 years

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Dog... not me saying I won't be writing fanfiction anymore, then asking for Haikyuu inspo and then finishing 3 seasons of Bungou Stray Dogs in a week and writing this...... I have no explanations. bye

One Way

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!S/O Word count: 2.7k Warnings: suicide and depression, angst, it ends good tho Summary: After parting, Dazai thought he would never see her again. He convinced himself he wouldn't. But then, a new lead for a case appears, and Dazai feels his entire being shattering to pieces.

When Dazai saw that case for the first time, he didn’t believe it. It was too good to be true. No, it couldn’t possibly be true. After they parted the last time, he never imagined such a chance to present itself to him. But all the evidence said otherwise, so it left him no choice but to believe. His deadly precise logic was in a raging conflict with his emotions, which Dazai never thought would be an issue. Although, lately, everything became too possible for his comfort.

In existential fear of meeting her again, he regretted meeting her at all. Not for the reasons one would assume. Looking back, he should’ve killed himself months, months, and months ago because now that he knew her, he understood how difficult it was going to be. Before, he was eager and ready to end his life. Nothing really held him back, no bonds strong enough to regret leaving them behind. The issue lied not in reflexivity or thinking too much about others. It was in nothing but his own overbearing and absolute selfishness when it came to her. He didn’t want to live to keep her company, he wanted to hold onto his privilege of looking at her, touching her, smelling her hair, kissing her knuckles, feeling her gaze on his face, feeling her fingers in his hair. He was rid of it after they last saw each other, which was ages ago.

Now, this crushing lonely bliss was tumbling down, all because of a file that stared at Dazai from the surface of his desk. Dozens of people dead, Yokohama was on the brink of a cross-organization conflict, and the newly located lead had Dazai completely taken aback. He wasn’t working, of course, to Kunikida’s great annoyance. He was thinking, spiraling into endless rabbit holes, staring at her photo attached to the file. She looked so nice, why did she always look so nice? Well, he knew why, she was elegant and stylish, there was a metaphysical kind of beauty to her, she looked breathtaking no matter what she did. Perhaps, it was his bias talking. She always looked after his appearance back in the Port Mafia days. She fixed his ties, she taught him to buy good-fitted pants and shirts. She wouldn’t shut up about Mori’s coat asking him to please throw this doormat away and get something nice. He figured it probably wasn’t the coat as much as it was her hate for Mori and his nasty pedophilia, it’s so disgusting it’s probably contagious please wash your hands. She cared. It felt nice. She would be happy to know he burnt it. He wondered if she would like his new coat. He bought it trying his best to remember her advice. He wanted to show it to her.

Wanted but couldn’t, there was no way. There were rumours about her death a few years ago among the Port Mafia crowd, but Dazai called bullshit on it right away. She knew better and she did better than just dying somewhere. Staring at her photo that was clearly taken here, in Yokohama, he couldn’t understand. Why was she here? Why was she involved? She had no reason to be. She wanted to get away, there was nothing she wanted more. After Oda died, they both decided to leave Port Mafia. But Dazai intended to stay in Yokohama and she wished to leave without looking back. Mutual loss drove them apart, they both weren’t mentally ready to find compromises. So she left. And he stayed. And now there was this photo of her, shamelessly lying in the file and destroying the elaborate image of a life he has built for himself. He stated at it for another minute or two. There was one reason for her to be back, Dazai was deliberately avoiding even considering this reason because everything inside him screamed how unrealistic and stupid this reason was.

Still, he had to suppress his inner turmoil because no matter what he thought, rationally, there was only one way to find out. Uttering a quiet ‘I see how it is,’ he got up and started walking towards the exit. Kunikida was quick to stop him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dazai?”

“Weren’t you the one who gave me the file? I’m off to work, of course.”

“Don’t say ‘of course’ like it’s something ordinary, idiot.”

Kunikida eyed Dazai’s face and fell silent for a moment.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked, calmer and noticeably more serious. Dazai looked back at him, eyes half-closed, giving him a moment of silence in return before breaking into another exaggerated smile.

“No thank you, I don’t want you ruining my disguise plan, Kunikida.”

Kunikida started yelling again, but Dazai paid it little attention since he was already out of the door.

One way, he thought repeatedly, as if to burn the phrase into his mind. ___ The building Dazai found himself in was no coincidence or convenience. Universe was speaking to him, furiously punching the obvious into the back of his head as he dodged and ignored the impact. The old abandoned church was the place where he found her after a failed attack mission. She wasn’t a stranger to murder, and she was prepared to face death of her associates as well as her own, but it was her first mission in command and a first horrifying defeat, which she did not take lightly. He found her hysterical, sobbing and holding onto her arms so hard it bruised, fingers almost piercing through fabric and skin. Never in his life has Dazai ached for someone else’s pain as much as he ached for hers. He couldn’t bring himself to say something usually harsh, like stop pitying yourself or get over yourself and get your shit together. Instead, he grabbed her and pressed her trembling body into his own, hugging her so hard she could barely breath anymore. He wanted to squeeze all the anguish out of her and absorb it. It wasn’t a problem, he dealt with worse, he could take it, so please let him so she doesn’t have to. His head pulsated in despair, at a loss of what to say and what to do. So he kissed her, so hard their teeth collided. He kissed her and kissed her, until she couldn’t think. He wanted to distract her, to leave her head an empty space, to leave her no chance to reflect, remember, or blame herself. No chance to feel anything.

Looking back, Dazai wouldn’t call it the healthiest way to comfort someone in distress, but it kind of worked, so who’s to judge. He walked up to the altar, allowing the nostalgia to take over his senses for a little while. He always found it funny: they made their secret meeting place a church, yet nothing they did here was close to holy. Nothing they ever did in their lives was holy. A murder 9 to 5 takes a pretty big toll on your mind and soul so having someone in your orbit who relieved your sense of existential dread and sometimes made you forget you’re dead inside helped. This is why Dazai wanted so badly for this lead to be a dead end. He was doing such a nice job of having his shit together and seeing her meant all of it would go to hell. One could say he was being too harsh on himself, but these were facts: as an analytic, Dazai knew himself in and out, and he acknowledged that his feelings for her, which was arguably his most irrational part of being, were a threat to his work performance, moral compass, and strive for the sweet embrace of death. It had to be fake. Then, he would come back to the agency, and she would be gone, and he would be able to solve the case like 2+2 and move on. Then, he would commit suicide, perhaps with some lovely lady, in some poetic and melancholic way, letting the black hole in his chest ascend into space and settle somewhere in its infinity. And all would be well. If this lead was a fake. If it’s a fake. If it’s—

“Fancy meeting you here.”

A second, and Dazai can swear he hears the sounds of glass breaking all around him. Everything is vacuum, the following silence is deafeningly loud in his ears. His body aches and his chest feels tight and prickly. He can’t find it in himself to breathe.

“You know, I wasn’t even sure this place would still be here, but I sacrificed logistics for the sake of a romantic sentiment.”

Her heels tapped against the old wooden floor as he felt her get closer to him.

“I guess great minds think alike,” Dazai said without turning around. There was silence again. He could feel her soft (he knew it as) gaze on his back. His fingers trembled.

“What do you have to do with this whole thing? You’re a primary suspect. What’s your gain?” Deciding to wait no more, Dazai spoke.

He hears her chuckle.

“Why do you ask me if you already know the answer?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Don’t say it.

“I got involved on purpose, of course.”

“Why?”

Say it isn’t so.

“To get to you.”

The hole in his chest shifts, it grows bigger, hungrier, it howls, like a whale on the bottom of an ocean. Even though she has left a long time ago, her ghostly presence lingers inside of him, a little smoldering coal, red sparkle inside a black pit of nothingness. It senses her presence, her scent, the timbre of her voice, and it starts absorbing everything it can reach just to get her closer, to lure her in.

“It was a pretty risky affair, I confess. I’m on a radar right now. I’m surprised no one followed you here, but you’re Dazai, so I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

She waited for his reaction and when nothing followed, continued to talk.

“My leave from Port Mafia was messy. I’m not on good terms with Mori, like you. I’m not on any terms with him except for my ever-burning hatred of that perv. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything, but after Odasaku things moved fast, so I had to leave immediately. The only option of me not dying was a one-way ticket. I wasn’t supposed to get involved with anything in Yokohama, otherwise they would be fast on my ass.”

He knew that, he knew all of that, he wasn’t stupid. He understood she was telling him this to fill the silence and not to explain herself. But seeing, or hearing in this case, her alive meant her escape was successful. So why? Why would she come back? To a person who did not follow her. Who did not write her. Dazai did not want her being tracked by anyone, so he kept his distance. But this distance was supposed to drive her away, to separate them. To turn them into strangers.

“So why,” Dazai said out loud, finishing his train of thought. “Why are you here? Why on earth are you here? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably, “she mused. She was right behind him now.

“Tell me the reason,” Dazai gritted his teeth. It was the only way to stop his entire body from shaking. Just tell him something, anything but not what he wants her to say.

“Because life without you is meaningless and miserable.”

Dazai scoffed. Who is she saying this to?

“I don’t want to live if it’s a life where I never see you again. I’d rather live 5 minutes after seeing your face than god knows how many years with you as a fading memory. I fucking hate your memory; I don’t need it. I need you. I’m not a good person, I don’t deserve chances at life, I’m not gonna use them. I killed a bunch of innocent people in hopes of getting you on the case, you think I care for my life anymore?”

He remained silent. He knew this feeling too well. To live with a bottomless pit for a heart, to meet someone who covered it so nicely to then be rid of that someone? It was better to never cover the pit in the first place. It only hurts more when you know things can be different. Better leave them untouched and let the black hole swallow you, thinking this is how it’s supposed to be.

“Osamu. Look at me.”

He let in a shaky breath. He hasn’t heard his name like this in forever. No one else could say it like her. In no one else’s lips did it sound so soft, so tender, so welcoming.

So loving.

“Please don’t make me turn around,” he said quietly, barely a whisper, voice filled with pity and hurt.

“Why?” she echoed as quietly.

“Because I’ve been doing such a good job ridding my life of any meaning. I’ve convinced myself I won’t be seeing you again and that I’m fine with it. I’m numb. It makes the work so easy, you know? I can execute any plan and not worry about anything. I’ve studied so many ways of suicide. I’ve never been closer to making my wish come true. I can spend a bit more time helping others and then clock out into nihility.”

He felt her forehead softly press against his back. Her long gentle hands went around his waist and locked on his stomach. Her delicate fingers reached to his hollow chest, to the hungry wailing emptiness that was devouring him and cradled it. She took it into her warm benevolent palms and held it carefully, warming it up. Dazai breathed out brokenly, his own hands lingering above hers, hesitant.

“How am I supposed to kill myself after seeing your face?”

He felt her smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m too selfish.”

Her body shifted back slightly, which made Dazai instinctively turn his head to the side.

“Got you.”

With that, she leaned onto him and caught his lips in hers. Check mate. Losing any last bits of control, he spinned around, grabbing her, pressing her body closer to his. He wanted to hold her close, so close, closer than ever before. He wanted to dissolve in her, to become one with her because it seemed to be the only way to never lose her again. Life didn’t need to have meaning, there was no meaning. No meaning, no God, no purpose, no higher power, no morality, no ethics, no good, and no evil. There was only her. He only needed her. Her lips, her scent, her voice. She could be his God, his judgment his atonement, his nationality, his worldview. His sin and confession, his modesty and decadence. His culture and ignorance.

He could feel her own darkness longing, begging for his presence, the way his longed for her. She talked to him through her tongue entwining with his, through her hands clutching his shirt.

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

A small and hesitant do you love me? Do you want me?

Dazai smiled helplessly.

Why do you even ask? Of course I love you. I can’t fucking live without you, life is pointless without you in it. I want only you, there is nothing else in this world. It’s only you.

you you you you you you you you

When they break apart, they are both breathless, like they just ran a marathon. He finally opens his eyes and looks at her. It’s a paradox, how she looks so different yet so comfortably same as the last day he saw her. Same glimpse in her eyes when she looks at him. Same soft hands cupping his cheeks. Same breathtaking scent that blurs your mind and vision. It’s her. The pit in his chest is quiet, for the first time in years. The lingering coal is lit up, it’s bright and warm, and the flame is her figure.

She looks him up and down, pleased.

“You got a new coat.”

He grins, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

She closes her eyes again, placing her palm firmly on his chest, sealing the darkness shut.

“I love it.”

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai imagines #bsd imagines

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lochrannn · 3 years

Text

AU-gust: Glass Houses

Read on AO3

CW: Explicit Sexual Content

prompt no 9: Roommates

Characters: Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Diego honks his horn as an asshole driver swerves out in front of him so that he has to slam on his brakes, hoping the car that's been riding his ass for the last two blocks doesn't crash into the back of his trunk.

But then he realizes that the asshole's vacated a parking spot not too far from his building, so Diego takes a deep breath and swings his car into the gap. Once stopped, he turns the key and pulls it out of the ignition, the shitty banger he's driving lurching a little, as the engine cuts out.

He takes another deep breath and tries to settle the undefined feeling of simmering rage and frustration.

He has only a few minutes before it will get too unbearably hot in his car without the air con on, but he thinks if he doesn't take the quick moment to settle his nerves, he might punch the next person who just looks at him funny square in the face. And all things considered, he's almost certain he doesn't want that to happen.

So he leans back against the headrest, lets his eyes slip closed and tries not to think of the mounting stack of bills on his desk back at the agency, or how later tonight he'll have to put on a brave face for Allison and Vanya or they'll again try to get him to let them help him with money, or how he's had to let out his spare room in his apartment to subsidize the rent, or how he's probably going to have to give up his dream of his own business and join a bigger agency and start working domestic dispute and divorce cases, which he absolutely hates.

His eyes snap back open at the realization that he's incapable of meditating his worries away, so he decides there's no point in staying in the car and gets out into the blazing afternoon sun.

When he walks up the five flights of stairs, because the elevator has been out of order for as long as he's lived in this shitty building, he feels droplets of sweat running down the back of his neck and into the collar of his shirt, not because he's expending too much energy, but because its a hundred and three fucking degrees in the city.

Diego unlocks his front door, kicks the bottom while pushing it open because it always jams, lets his keys drop into the little dish by the entrance, doesn't bother to kick off his shoes, and just heads straight over to the living room couch and drops down onto it.

He heaves another sighing breath, his muscles no less tense than when he was sitting in his car a few minutes ago, and he's still dreading having to meet his sisters later in this state of pent up frustration. He really needs to relax.

For a moment he considers changing into a t-shirt and shorts and going for a run or to the gym, but it's just too fucking hot for that. He thinks, with slightly morbid fascination, that the only things that can easily and efficiently relax him are exercise, a good fight, or a good fuck, and none of those options are readily available right now.

Although...

Diego takes another deep breath, tries again to empty his mind, though pretty unsuccessfully, and reaches down to the top of his jeans. He unbuttons them, pulls down the zipper and pushes his pants and boxers far enough that he can pull out his cock with one hand. He licks the palm of his other hand and then uses it to give himself an experimental tug to see if the lack of real lubrication is too uncomfortable.

Feeling a little foolish, as he's not jerked off this hastily since he was a teenager - these days he'll usually do it in the shower if he feels like it - Diego tries to conjure up some erotic images in his mind to help him get hard.

He manages to get some fantasies going behind his closed eyelids while lazily moving his hand along his dick.

Lips closing around his earlobe, teeth scraping along his neck, a hand trailing down his chest, hips colliding with his, soft moans responding to his touch.

He's so distracted, head leaning on the back of the couch, eyes closed, that he's pretty certain he goes into cardiac arrest when a clipped voice somewhere behind him says, “What are you doing?”

His first jumbled thought is for the preservation of his modesty, so he curls in on himself, to shield his exposed crotch from view, and then awkwardly turns around to see, past the door to the kitchen, his new roommate, Lila, who he had completely forgotten about, standing by the open fridge, a large bottle of soda Diego is certain he himself bought, halfway to her lips and she's pinning him with her frown, one perfectly straight eyebrow quirked up high.

Diego has no response and can't move. And, maybe because he continues to be holding his still half hard dick in his hand, his brain can't help but focus on the fact that Lila, who - he had immediately noticed the first time he met her - is incredibly hot, is wearing nothing but a tight, low-cut tank top with thin straps, and sinfully short shorts that make her legs look like they go on for days.

Feeling like the perviest deer to ever be trapped in anyone's headlights he shifts his gaze to the soda bottle in her hand and is immediately out of ideas for what else to do. Maybe he'll have the tiniest bit of luck today and there'll be an earthquake that will form a crack in his floor which he can disappear into. Or maybe, even better, the fucking moon will explode and rain fiery meteors down on him and end his misery.

The moments tick by and nothing happens to ease the tension until Lila shifts her weight on her bare feet, twists the cap back onto the soda bottle, puts it on the counter, closes the fridge door and then says in a low but steady voice, “Want some help with that?”

Diego's eyes snap back up to look at her and there's a glint in her eyes and an upwards tug playing at the corners of her mouth and he thinks she must be mocking him, until she lifts her eyebrows once at him suggestively and then starts making her way over.

There's nothing he can think of to say to that.

All blood, apparently, leaves his brain again to shoot down south at the prospect of... something... and that must be the reason why, completely on autopilot, he leans back against the couch when she stands in front of him. And then he moves his hands away to give Lila access when she drops to her knees between his, swiftly wraps her one hand around the base of his dick, slightly grinding the heel of her palm into his balls, making him twitch, digs her other hand into his thigh, and then loses no time to take him into her mouth, making him gasp.

What the fuck is happening?

It's so weird, and probably also pretty wrong to let yourself get sucked off by what is effectively your tenant, Diego thinks, but it's also so fucking hot how Lila is bobbing her head, not taking him in very deep, but she's hollowing out her cheeks and pressing her tongue against him and he's staring down at her and every so often he can see the top of her breasts and he can already feel the muscles in his abdomen tense.

He resists the urge to put his hands on her head, stifles his panting breath, hoping that the less active he is in this situation, the less of a dipshit that makes him.

Lila's hand on his thigh moves upwards and under his shirt and she lets her fingers drag across his abs. Her interest apparently piqued, she pushes his shirt up to see, hums appreciatively, and that makes Diego lose his iron grip on his self-control for a second and he thrusts up into her mouth and feels instantly guilty for doing so.

But when Lila's gaze flies up to meet his, eyes dark with arousal and want, Diego has no choice but to put his hand under her chin, touching her for the first time, and pull her off him with a small pop, or he'll come down her throat that instant and he really can't let that happen.

She looks confused for a second but then gets up and leans her hands on his chest while she swings her leg over his knee to sit down on one of his thighs, and Diego has yet to let go of her chin.

He doesn't guide her, he'd do nothing of the sort, but his hand comes along with her face as she leans in to kiss him, open mouthed and filthy, with her tongue pressing against his, right away.

Her lips taste of sugary soda, but the rest tastes of him and something in Diego's brain short-circuits and a tingle runs down his spine.

He's so engrossed in their kiss and already so turned on, that it takes him half a second to notice that Lila's wrapped her hand around his cock and is slowly pumping it up and down in time with the movement of her tongue and lips against his.

Unsure where to put his own hands without wanting to overstep whatever boundaries might still be left, Diego keeps one on the side of Lila's neck and wraps the other around her small wrist where she has the hand she's not using to drive him absolutely insane pressed up against his chest for balance.

And then he feels her rock her hips, grinding down onto his thigh and she moans into his mouth at the friction and that's all it takes for Diego's muscles to go impossibly tight and an almost blinding orgasm to rip through him. He squeezes his eye's shut, can't stop a grunt from pushing it's way up his throat, and distantly feels Lila press her forehead against his, while he holds on to her wrist and neck for dear life.

Diego falls limply against the back of the couch, Lila's weight on him disappearing shortly after, but he keeps his eyes shut as guilt and shame begin threatening to replace the feeling of bliss still running through his veins.

He shouldn't have let this happen.

He's so distracted by his spiraling thoughts that he takes no notice of the rustling sounds around him until he's hit in the face by something slightly squishy and damp that drops to his chest before he can open his eyes.

When he does, he sees, lying on top of him, a washcloth that was clearly tossed at him by Lila who's standing just the other side of the coffee table staring him down expectantly.

“Come on, clean yourself up,” she says and then comes around to drop down onto the couch next to him, leaning against the armrest, “or do you need help with that as well?”

She smirks at him wickedly as he gingerly begins wiping himself clean.

He tucks himself away, cheeks flushing, suddenly feeling overly exposed with her just sitting there, watching him.

But when he zips and buttons up his jeans she breaks the silence with amusement in her voice, “Chop chop!” she chirps. “I could do with you returning the favour right about now,” and at whatever shocked expression she must find on his face, she pouts slightly and says, “... or not. But then you'll have to ignore the buzzing coming from my bedroom for the next twenty minutes,” and she starts getting up from the couch again.

But before she's fully upright, Diego grabs her wrist, pulls her back down, and at a speed that surprises even himself, maneuvers her into a prone position, her head lying on the armrest, and he positions himself between her legs, shoving her tight tank top up with his nose, and kisses her belly button.

Some combination of his tongue and his rough stubble on her soft skin makes Lila giggle and her hands fly into his hair and Diego goes to work, all thoughts of shame and guilt completely forgotten.

#au_gust_2021 #fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #lochrannn lxd au challenge

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roominthecastle · 5 years

Note

Ok so since you’re a believer/supporter of Agnes Gate I have this question. Lizzy’s memories were wiped, but how do you explain Red? What does he know/suspect? How do you explain his behavior? Where does he stand in all this? Hope you got my point because I’m sick and I’ve lost my ability to think clearly and transform thoughts into words 🤒😂

*cracks knuckles*

Yes, you’re coming across clearly, anon, these are all valid points/questions, and I hope you’re feeling better.

Now “believer” is a strong word but I do believe there’s enough wiggle room in current show canon to accommodate this theory. In other words (bc I really don’t want anyone to misunderstand me here): there’s still enough story space for this idea to emerge but there is no direct, overt proof that it is there or that it will.

So consider what follows NOT a proof post but a simple, albeit long AF - thought experiment that presupposes two things:

Liz and Red slept together while on the run (canonically that’s the period when Agnes was conceived)

Liz’s memory of this has been either altered or removed by Dr. Krilov

Now, behavior was, in fact, the one thing that initially put me off this theory bc I didn’t think Red would be willing to just step aside if he suspected he might be the baby’s father. BUT the following seasons revealed a couple of good reasons why he would not speak up (Kirk and the never-ending list of other hostiles, Liz’s “I hate your guts” phase, Liz clinging to Tom, Liz’s selective memory - courtesy of Krilov, fake-DG & the issue of the suitcase, an illness).

They also continued to show just how apt both Red and Liz are to not deal with stuff that’s not an immediate threat (e.g. Liz’s ‘I love you’ which they both willingly continue to just not address), and the thing is: despite not contesting paternity in any overt way, Red never actually stepped aside.

I think this paternity issue and its various complications - from Red’s perspective - can be separated into 4 major time blocks:

S3B

S5A

S5B–present

Even if there’s a reason for Red to think he might be Agnes’ father, I don’t believe he works off anything more than mild suspicions in the S3B–S5A period.

During this time, his relationship with Liz is rapidly unraveling and several other roadblocks and threats emerge that likely discourage him from openly broaching this issue. Then he gets to raise Agnes for 10 months, which provides the perfect opportunity to safely run a paternity test and maybe even another genetic screening (they made a point of telling us that baby Agnes was getting a standard one back in S3 + it was emphasized how having the correct info about her parents’ medical history is crucial for accurate testing - info Tom couldn’t provide). The beginning of Red’s collaboration with Dr. Stark roughly dates back to the time period when he had Agnes with him. If Red has a hereditary (late-onset) illness, he could have been driven to seek a cure once the tests confirmed his suspicions, and he’s now testing it on himself to make sure it works and is safe before giving it to Agnes.

IF.

– more on all this behind the cut – (apologies, mobile users)

- [ S3B ] -

Confirmation of the pregnancy is a wedge between Liz and Red, and it’s Red who screws up first when he rejects the baby right off the bat and tries to bury himself in work. It understandably hurts Liz and the tense tone of their interactions begins to snowball. The main issue concerning Red’s behavior in S3B, right after Liz tells him that she’s pregnant and he bounces back from his initial rejection, is that he becomes “suffocating” and more committed than ever to keep her and the baby in his orbit (which also alarms and later sets off Mr. Kaplan). Red has little sense of boundary, he starts isolating Liz, and he barely tolerates Tom’s presence. When he makes an effort to tolerate him, that’s bc he is trying his best to respect Liz’s choices/wishes (just like in “Ruin”) regardless of his own feelings, but it doesn’t prevent him from repeatedly trying to push Tom out of the picture. He saves him from going to prison but he still has a hard time dealing with Liz having a close relationship with him. This also echoes his original plans for Tom: being there for her but also keeping his distance. This, in turn, echoes his original “invisible benefactor” role he cast himself in (and both of them clearly crossed these lines as the years went by – more on this later).

Despite telling her that he’s known about the pregnancy for some time, Red does not act out until after Liz doesn’t deny that Tom is the father. Red knew about the pregnancy already, he had weeks to vent and get used to the idea, so his spiraling is kind of puzzling unless it’s not the pregnancy itself that sets him off. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was paternity (why?), so the only emotionally logical reason for his weird spiral is that part of him was still hoping that the baby was not Tom’s (tho, in theory, nobody else was in proximity other than the two of them + a more closer look at the timeline reveals that Tom was, in fact, nowhere near Liz when the baby was conceived).

But when Liz didn’t deny it, that’s when it became too much for Red: he didn’t want to have a child (for several reasons) but what he wanted even less was Tom to be confirmed as the father. Then his entire outlook on this subject changes by the end of the episode (after reminding himself how Katarina, too, dreaded having a baby but changed her mind completely). This also brings that Samar/Aram conversation to mind where she tells Aram how being around him changed her attitude towards having children, but now she cannot raise one bc of her condition.

But back to 312 and the “I’m pregnant” moment:

This whole conversation is just weird. Red is tense from the moment he sees Liz at the Post Office, then feeds her the answer to his own question, presenting it as a statement: “I assume Tom is the father.” Why not just give her the opportunity to name him? What this feels like is him giving her an out instead, and his closed-off, prickly, I-am-being-very-inconvenienced-by-this behavior (and Tom’s enthusiasm) is practically willing Liz to take it. And she hesitates for a moment, then instead of saying “yes” she just says, “I haven’t told him yet.” And this is where Red’s barely civil behavior veers into total assholery rejection, then he does a 180 at the end of the episode. By then Liz is sufficiently pissed off and is already pushing him away and sliding back into Tom’s arms. So in many ways ep 312 is where things truly turn and then get worse, and it all happens over Tom, essentially.

After this fallout, we get the episode where Red is thinking back to Josephine who was maneuvered into marrying an abusive scumbag for strategic reasons (as usual, we have parallels too). It was all arranged by a third party, which reminds me of Mr. Kaplan referring to Tom as her “confidant”, which makes me wonder about the extent of their off-screen interaction. Mr. Kaplan was doing everything to tear Red and Liz apart bc she saw that bond as fatal to both and a danger to the baby. Maybe she arranged that 2nd session w/ Krilov (who might have planted images that switched Red and Tom like he did w/ the fire memory where the roles were switched around), then she tipped Tom off, urging him to rekindle his relationship w/ Liz (his proposal was so out of the blue, I still don’t know what to do w/ that).

When Liz wants to give up the baby for adoption, she is told that she has to discuss this with the father, too, as his consent is also needed. Liz says the father is busy with work, then she has 0 conversation about this w/ Tom and goes to Red who, now being very pro having the baby, tries to talk her out of it. He also sabotages Tom’s teacher job and, at the same time, swoops in and presents Liz with a trust fund he set up for the baby, insisting that it’s for the child. As far as symbolic actions go, this one is screaming “I am the provider, not him”. And if it’s not clear enough, he also spells it out by telling her Tom’s not worthy of being her husband and of raising the baby. But it’s too late. Liz rejects him and clings to Tom. She even re-watches the video of Tom being interviewed as a potential adoptive father, which we saw in S1. Liz has been show to chat with potential adoptive parents, so her watching Tom’s adoption agency interview kinda makes it look like she picks Tom to “adopt” Agnes.

S3B is the time period when the threat from Kirk starts emerging. Mr. Kaplan also begins to view Red and Liz’s bond as sth to sever and Red himself as a threat to Agnes, saying that the baby hasn’t even been born yet but is “already paying the price for her association” with him. Then Liz kicks Red out when he asks to see the newborn baby, and soon after Liz’s “death”, Tom tells him that Agnes would only need protection if Red remained in her life. The three of them manage to gaslight Red to such an extent that he completely breaks down. He begins to contemplate ending it all and wanders around, cataloging the reasons.

And that episode-long contemplation is where we get to see (his version of) Katarina in this exact position, her pain at losing the man she loved at a time when there was so much anger and tension btw them, at not being able to raise her daughter, and all her reasoning for committing suicide (all paralleling Red’s). We can also glimpse Red’s innermost thoughts/feelings regarding Liz, Agnes, and Tom. He says “her mother is dead. All she has is the father.” Somehow he cannot bring himself to call Tom “her father” and this is reflected in future real-life interactions w/ Tom as well, when he switches between calling Agnes “Elizabeth’s child” and “your daughter” in his presence. Liz similarly switches btw calling Agnes “my” and “our” around Tom, and initially she refuses to refer to Agnes as anything but “my baby” even after Tom corrects her. It’s almost like both she and Red need some time to adjust. She does. Red? not so much.

Dom further adds to Red’s crushing guilt by reminding him how his choices doomed Liz like they doomed Katarina before. But then he also reminds him that he still has a reason to live as there are others out there who depend on him (“God help them.” - I LOVE Dom). So Red returns to make sure Agnes is safe and to exact vengeance for Liz’s death, two goals which are tied in his mind as he claims that the only way to protect Agnes is by killing Kirk who’s responsible for Liz’s death. He makes a deal with Tom: he lets him participate in the hunt in exchange for being allowed to spend time with Agnes. Again, this whole exchange has a vibe of negotiating visitation rights.

And Red’s interactions w/ Scottie give us a feel for why he will not argue much in the future when Liz decides to pick her to look after Agnes: Red calls Scottie “a brilliant strategist” who - despite Red’s visceral dislike of her - is a suitable “guard” as long as she believes Agnes to be her granddaughter. So not giving any reason to undermine that belief is in the little girl’s best interest (for now).

- [ S4 ] -

This is a period dedicatedto the overarching theme of “truth vs. appearances”, and we have afew interesting ideas and info snippets introduced that can help furtherexplain Red’s behavior if (he suspects that) Agnes is his.

First of all, we meet Kirkand gain some insight into the relationship dynamics of the past - dynamicswhich reflect those in the present.

Mirroring is a curiousfeature that’s utilized right at the beginning, in 401. It’s briefly touchedupon (here) but what makes the Red-Kirk-Liz scene especially interesting isthat the mirroring btw this exchange and the Red-Tom-Agnes one in “CapeMay” is not merely visual but also verbal, giving some weight to thesuspicion that they are linked by design. In both scenes we have the“designated dad” in a room with his daughter while the real father(Red is not Liz’s father but in 401 he “stands in” for real Reddington) is separated and looking in from the outside. On top of that, the dialogues are verysimilar, too:

Red (401): Are you okay? || Red (319): She’ll need protection.Kirk (401): Unlike you, I’d never hurt my own daughter. || Tom (319): Only ifyou are in her life.

And to push it even further,Kirk’s words (“What I desire is to raise my child. To watch hergrow.”) reflect Red’s innermost wish he voices in 319: “ I’d giveanything to be a part of that child’s life […] see her, hold her, watch hergrow.” And this also echoes Liz’s fantasy she shares with Red when theyare on the run. And Red’s retort to Kirk in 401 (“She was never yours toraise.”) also matches Red’s dance around the issue of Agnes’ paternity in319 where he refuses to directly call Tom her father, paralleling Katarina’s pain that she feels due to being separated from her daughter.

So I think what we can statewith certainty here is that there is confusion around paternity inboth scenes.

As the season unfolds, we dolearn that Kirk was a “cover dad”, designated as such by Katarina formultiple reasons (that happen to match Liz’s reasons for wanting to“escape” Red in S3 and be with Tom instead):

best chance at a normal life: Kirk did not work as an agent or any kind ofoperative, he had a (relatively) stable life in Russia. Katarina wasmarried to him and they lived together until real Reddington, believing Mashato be his daughter, took their daughter back to the US.

safety: asRed put it, “Your safety was guaranteed because Kirk believed you to behis daughter.” This belief was cemented in by a fake DNA report andentries in Katarina’s journal where she writes about their relief that Mashawon’t be exposed to the genetic illness that plagues Kirk’s family as it canonly be inherited by sons.

“no other path”: despite loving Reddington, Katarina accepted that she was never gonna endup with him. The circumstances were forever against them. This is why she began distancing herself from him and this is why she didn’t want to know ifhe was Masha’s father.

If Katarina had written apro/con list for her baby, I bet it would have looked a lot like the one Liz wrote, exceptit would have said “Kirk????” instead of “Tom????” But, as Redtold Liz, being Katarina’s husband didn’t make Kirk her father, which is apotentially relevant observation given how Liz kept trying to marry Tom at allcosts to force a “normal family” into existence that was never more than anillusion + how she was trying to distance herself from Red.

Those three main reasons abovealso provided the motivation for a cover-up that Kirk refused to acceptas the truth until multiple tests confirmed it when he fell ill and needed agenetic donation from a blood relative. As Red pointed out, “You saw whatKatarina wanted you to see.” This also echoes Mr. Kaplan’s words to Red atthe end of S3: “You saw what we needed you to see.” which might godeeper than “merely” faking Liz’s death and could be a hint at Kaplan’srole in arranging the 2nd memory manip session with Krilov.

In this season, Red alsostruggles with appearance vs. truth, with the cost/benefit ratio of deceptionsand false assumptions. This happens indirectly when he “auditions” hisnew cleaners in a pristine white apartment where one of his friends wasmurdered. He is both upset and marvels at how clean everything looks –“your cleaners removed even the memory of his blood”.

This practicality takes on asymbolic meaning as it carries over into Red’s relationship with Mr. Kaplanwhom he calls his confessor: “every trespass I committed, expunged.Cleansed as if it never happened.” Mr. Kaplan claims that Red betrayed Lizand held her “emotionally hostage”. These are rather extreme accusations… unless Red and Liz slept together while on the run and Redconfessed this to Mr. Kaplan. Now that act could be easily and understandablyconsidered trespassing by her, a crossing of a line that never should have beencrossed (= a betrayal). Red felt rage when he learned that Tom had become intimate with Liz. He considered this a betrayal, too, and Tom an immediate threat. He went about correcting the situation the same way Mr. Kaplan goes about correcting Red’s behavior in S3B-S4. Perhaps the trigger was the same type of trespassing too.

Mr. Kaplan makes it her mission to separate Liz and Red,and it all begins back in S3, around the time somebody hired Dr. Krilov to takecertain memories from Liz. Red is very close to directly confessing his feelings for Liz in 302. If he ended up confessing that he’s in love with her and they ended up in bed, that can be considered “a truth” about him that Liz uncovered – a truth that someone who doesn’t want them to be together would definitely object to.

Mr. Kaplan urges Liz to “do what yourmother never had the courage to do: walk away from Raymond.” IF Red and Liz slepttogether and Agnes was the result, then Dr. Krilov’s 2nd memory manipulationdid what Red’s cleaner(s) did in the white apartment: the “trespass” got “expunged”. Even the memory of it.Truth became elusive and assumptions took its place (like “I assume Tom is thefather.”).

Red is trying to complete a white puzzle in the white apartment,which takes on potential relevance after we can hear him compare memory toa jigsaw puzzle in 514. The possible relevance? Maybe he’s wondering (puzzled, if you will ;) why Lizacts as if nothing happened between them on the run, as if her memory of it were wiped clean. And while it is undoubtedly simpler and safer thisway, and it’s best to leave that topic alone, it is hard for him to accept, esp with Tomin the picture and taking on roles Red wishes to be able to fill, roles Liz now rejects him in.

In this episode we can also hear Gale make a pointed, suggestive remarkto Liz about her time with Red in S3A: “What was it like on the run withhim? Did he charm you?” And all this happens while Mr. Kaplan is hell-benton tearing Red and Liz apart for the sake of all of their safety, claiming thatRed’s presence in their lives is a threat to Agnes, Liz, and also to himself.

Memory manipulation - or the presence of holes in one’s memory - has itsown “footprint” in the show. It usually manifests as images drifting outof focus and echoing voices. There are two instances where this happens to Liz with no apparent reason. One is in 308 when she is in a gas stationbathroom - already pregnant - staring at her reflection in the dirty mirror. The other is in 317when Red marches towards her in the church, calling out her name and interrupting her and Tom’s wedding -both are situations where her baby’s father and her husband are likely on her mind. In317 she even connects the two by saying she wants to build a life with thefather of her child and Red keeps pleading with her to not marry Tom.

We are periodically reminded that Red is a Proust fan, and Proustjust happens to be the author of À la recherche du temps perdu (In Search of Lost Time) - a monumentalexploration of the various connections that web reality, perception, and memorytogether. The concept of involuntary memory originates from this novel series,and we can see this in action on The Blacklist, too, when Liz’sburied memory of the night of the fire gets triggered in 222. It’s also possible that she was close to being triggered in those twoscenes mentioned above, and maybe she won’t even need Krilov’s help in regaining the memories she’s lost the 2nd time as they could also be triggered unexpectedly by the smallest, most random thing - a smell, a taste, a voice, a gesture.

The white apartment incidentalso coincides with Liz, Agnes, and Tom moving to a new apartment. Redhas a hard time adjusting to this change, to no longer being able to see Agneswhenever he wants (and he was visiting her regularly while they were in his safe house, always showing up w/ the request to see her in particular), which brings the downside of deception into focus: separation. And Redstruggles with this despite understanding the safety that lies in it and inhiding truths - something Katarina knew a lot about, as well.

It’s not surprising that he soon starts musingabout the importance of truth (in 412):

“You said something before. The truth doesn’t matter, that the only thing in this world that matters is just the appearance of truth. I fear you might be right about that. Lately I find that the truth has become… so elusive. Often imaginary. But in the end, it’s all that we’re left with, isn’t it? What is real, what you can taste and touch and feel. The words that pass between us as we look each other in the eye are… all we have to hold on to. The truth. I hold it dear.”

then he proceeds to make a cuckoo clock forAgnes in the following episode (x, x). His first remark on how he is no longercomfortable with the idea of dying at any second also pops up in 412, and itgets reaffirmed in 415, in the same episode where the bad guy of the weekexpresses the same sentiment: his reason for clinging to his miserable life is fatherhood andhe wants a family even if he is barred from being physically present in their lives.

Red faces this issue, too. Tom remains Agnes’ (designated)dad and Liz’s husband while he is now kept away. He stillkeeps prodding that family unit, though, keeps teasing Tom about his pastand keeps involving him in missions to strip away his thin veneer of “normaland safe” to prove to Liz that she is mistaken about him. (sidenote: Tom also“takes over” the sentiment of Liz - and Agnes - being his future; thisis Red’s “thing”, has been since S1)

Meanwhile, Red keepsflip-flopping between accepting Mr. Kaplan’s accusations and rejecting them (“Maybe I am the person you need protection from.” vs “She was wrong to think Elizabeth and Agnes were safer without me in their lives.”). Hecannot seem to make up his mind as others join the chorus of blaming him forhow badly things turned out.

This is also the seasonwhere Red has an awkward and out-of-the-blue exchange with Cooper about thelatter’s sick daughter (414), and in another ep (404) - one featuring a parentand child sharing the same disorder - Red is asked point blank if he has achild with special needs but he doesn’t answer.

His personal struggle with appearancevs truth, however, is temporarily suspended when Liz blindsides him with the DNA test in 422. Despite his visible discomfort, Reddoesn’t correct Liz’s false assumption because it happens to provide theperfect cover he so desperately needs to find the skeleton Mr. Kaplan unearthed.But this strategic move comes with the price of having to keep his silenceabout Agnes for the foreseeable future. Thanks to Mr. Kaplan’s parting gift andCooper’s (accidental?) “antidote” of running that DNA test and providing cover, Red is now backed into a corner where the only way topreserve his secret is by not challenging appearances.

- [ S5A ] -

this block is nestledbetween two high-impact turning points: the DNA test and Tom’s death. The DNAtest locks Red into a false role, that of Liz’s father, which holds throughoutS5 and to a lesser extent in S6. The only reprieve is the 10-month period duringwhich he gets to take on the role of father in Agnes’ life (=inhabiting thetruth). Liz spends this time unconscious, which I find quite symbolic, as well (her being not conscious of his true role).

The DNA test is both a curseand a blessing. Red undoubtedly enjoys the sudden warming of his relationship with Lizbut he clearly does not enjoy her referring to him as “father”. Everytime it happens, we can see him wince, cringe, or glare in silence. But it happensto be the perfect cover for him to keep searching for the skeleton since it preventsLiz from asking the very questions he doesn’t want her to wonder about.

So Liz confrontinghim with the DNA test closes the window of opportunity Red still had in S3B andS4 to contest paternity. This turn of events also forces him to prioritizepreserving his secret over almost everything else (he is only ready to give it up when he thinks Liz’s life is at stake), so the struggle we can see him having in S4 - the onebtw appearances and the truth - promptly takes a back seat as keeping upappearances becomes the #1 strategic necessity.

That being said, Red still onlydoes the bare minimum (= not denying it outright) to play father to Liz. And this time block brings some interesting remarks about geneticsand secrets, which may have more significance than simply serving as empty redherrings until the impostor reveal hits at the end of the season.

Smokeydrops some comments about being “just like daddy” and having “noway to avoid the family curse” because “DNA is what it is.” Onthe surface this ties into the (beyond grating) tendency of some characters to blame-shiftand refuse to take any responsibility for their shitty life choices. But what makesthis exchange stand out is the wording “family curse” becauseKatarina uses a similar phrase (“this accursed disease that has afflicted his family for generations”) to describe Kirk’s condition.In 506, Tom also remarks to Red that “family secrets” always comeout. And now Red is sick and is in need of a pioneering geneticist’s help to find a cure. Somehow I don’t believe this is all just coincidence. + judging from those (brief) (glimpses) we get at Agnes, she is already a lot like her dad. ;)

Ep 504 in particularhas some curious details because they don’t line up with Red and Liz’s pretendrelationship but they do line up with the idea of Red having “a familycurse” that puts Agnes at risk. In this episode, asoldier gives up her child to get him out of harm’s way, but when the child presentswith an incurable disorder, she takes him from his adoptive parents, thencommits suicide to provide the donor heart needed to save his life. Witnessing this,Red remarks that “given the same circumstances, I’d like to think I’d beas brave as her. I know I’d wanna be.”

And then Tom dies, Liz endsup in a coma, and Red is left to take care of Agnes. If she is his, this 10-month period gives Red the perfect opportunity to finally confirm it and, asI mentioned above, have her tested for whatever disorder he knows he - and thus she too -carries. The timeline is always tricky on this show but by my rough estimateRed invested in Dr. Stark’s gene hacking research around the time he still had Agnes or not long after.

- [ S5B–present ] -

In this period, Red shouldalready have confirmation about paternity, about whether or not Agnes is atrisk, and Dr. Stark is already working on the cure for both. However, theskeleton and all the threats attached are still out there, circling them, and Liz is stillunder the impression that he is her father, which Red cannot push back againstif he is to keep his main secret secret.

We’ve seen how far he is willing to go tokeep his identity hidden, so letting Liz believe he is her father is really notall that out there for this guy. Only life-and-death situations can push him to reveal certain things, so it might be unruly genetics that will end up forcing his hand this time around. If Agnes needs treatment, that’s gonna be tricky to administer w/o somebody eventually noticing.

Red is still in a false role for now but its confines have weakened since he realized that Liz now knows he used to be someoneelse.

WhenLiz decides to go away for a while and entrusts Agnes to Scottie, Red questionsbut eventually goes along with her decision. “It was what youwanted,” he tells her later on. Even locked in his assumed role hecould have dug his heels in and claimed that he had a say in this matter, but he letLiz make the decisions and respected them. It carried way more risk to let her disappear alone than to let Scottie take Agnes, yet Red did not argue and did notrepeat the mistakes he made in S3B when things got so out of hand, Liz began toresent him and he was genuinely worried he was suffocating her. So he did what everybody toldhim to do in S4: he let her - and Agnes - go. And then she came back to him.

But for now, it is best if Agneshas safe distance from both him and Liz. In 520, Red told Jennifer that she was notabandoned but protected. That’s Agnes, too. Red may detest Scottie but he doesacknowledge that she is an excellent strategist with the skills, insight,motivation, and resources to keep the little girl safe. Shebelieves her to be her granddaughter, which - imo - in Red’s book ensures her loyaltyno matter how he feels about her otherwise. And in ep 512, we can see that Redknows exactly where Agnes is and, knowing him, he has his own invisiblemultilayered security web in place, monitoring everyone in Agnes’ life 24/7 and sendingdaily reports to him.

Whenhe and Liz observe Agnes from a distance at the end of the episode, the topic oftruth once again emerges, making it the third time that Agnes and talk of“the truth” co-occur: one is earlier in this episode (“If I misseven one more day with [Agnes] than is absolutely necessarybecause you’re not being completely honest…”)and the other is the cuckoo clock scene in S4. Red tells Liz heknows how hard this separation is and that they want the same thing here, whichechoes his remark in S4 about how they are in lockstep where Agnesis concerned. It also reminds me ofhis stunned reaction when Liz shares her fantasy with him in S3 (“I’mwalking in a park with my husband. Inbetween usis our little girl. I’mholding her hand in mine… and Inever let go.”). They do want the same thing and they are on the same page about Agnes, but everything else is still in disarray. For now, there is safetyin separation and keeping up appearances, even uncomfortable and painful ones.

In 514, Red gives us and Liz areminder when he points out that in the criminal underworld you can neverreveal how important someone is to you without making them an instant target. Theshow continues to provide examples of this specific danger, and the cases thatdirectly touch upon this topic “borrow” elements from Red’s situation: in518, Mosadek’s son is abducted by business associates because they suspect himof being an informant, and in 610, criminals attempt to extort money from a fatherwhose daughter was born premature with a condition to which there was no cureat the time, so the father came up with one.

Ep605 is extra curious because it features the story of a guy who never knew hisfather and only learned about his identity when he was unexpectedly summoned to the readingof his will. Van Ness was fighting an illness, too, and decided to change hiswill to include his only son that nobody even knew about. His last written message to himwas: “I loved your mother but didn’t have the courage to stay withher.” Van Ness’ seat and vote in an international criminal syndicate are also automaticallytransferred to his heir, making him a target for various reasons. It’s also a reminder of what kind of dangerous entanglements thechildren of international criminals have to deal with once their family ties arerevealed. In this episode, we also get a reminder from Aram that “in arelationship, the truth always comes out.” and Dembe continues toplead with Red to be honest with Liz, tell her the truth and leave the rest to fate. Red, however, stubbornly keeps his silence.

Theparallels btw Red/Liz and Samar/Aram also continue in S6, and what Samar tells Aram in 613has potential relevance to deciphering Red’s perspective and reasons for not speaking up about Agnes. Samar says that she made peace with the idea that she was never gonna havechildren (back in S3, she told Liz she picked career over family) but meeting Aram changed everything. After that, she wanted nothingmore than to try and balance the two, to build a family with him. But now that she knows she has anirreversible condition, she cannot raise a child, and she feels he deservesmore than what she can give.

Ifeel all these sentiments also play a role in how Red evaluates the possibilities of hisrelationship with Liz (even if Agnes is not his). His initial reaction to the baby was rejection,remarking that a child would make their difficult work infinitely harder. But then he changed his mind. In 319, he confessed that hewould give anything to be able to raise Agnes but he was also painfully aware of the factors preventing him from realizing this wish.“Your baby deserves more than we can provide,”Mr. Kaplan told Liz right at the moment she decided to separate her from Redfor good. This idea also emerges in 614, when Red notices Liz staring at thephoto of herself with Katarina, and tells her that the photo represented everythingKatarina wanted but couldn’t have after she became a hunted woman. Being a fugitive himself, Red facesthe exact same problem. And now he alsohas an illness to overcome, so him having the same attitude as Samar - i.e. writing himself off as notbeing a suitable match and accepting not being with “the one” - feels right on the mark, imo. Katarina also shared in this heartbreak where realReddington and their daughter were concerned. She, too, had to let go of what she really wanted.

bottom line (bc it’s time to wrap this up): everything that’s happened since Liz confronted Red with the pregnancynews has been discouraging him from “coming out” as Agnes’ father:

initial uncertainty regarding paternity

Liz’s growing resentment towards him that culminated in a faked death

Tom + Liz choosing him over and over again coupled w/ Red starting to accept that Tom somehow makes Liz happy while he only manages to bring pain and hardship into her life

the constant threats and Red’s growing worry that he might indeed be athreat to Agnes and Liz

the unexpected DNA report that was also the perfect cover

Red’s emerging health issues

Liz’s missing memories (without which how would he even begin to explain it or have any hope she will not freak completely or worse?)

But we are in a period now where there is tangible improvement regarding these main issues. Red now knows whether or not he’s Agnes’ father, so that uncertainty is gone. Tom is dead. Liz’s resentment subsided and she knows Red is an imposter yet loves him anyway and told him so. He also knows about Krilov’s 2nd interference that explains some of Liz’s behavior. His illnessis being treated, too. But the risks and threats in their lives still remain. For now they are mitigating this by staying away from Agnes, but if theimprovements hold, hopefully the time will come when this issue of paternity - along with some other questions - can be broughtforth and sorted between the two of them.

#anonymous #tbl spec #long post

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larksinging · 7 years

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maria cd case packet: mix notes

MISSING LINK

notes about my song choices under the cut

first off: i like my mixes to have a sort of progression. often that’s a character arc progression, but in this mix i tried to move from most mainstream/relaxed to more dire and surreal sounding songs. a few more really experimental things could have helped this, but oh well

i. i love you - woodkid

“Whatever I feel for you / You only seem to care about you / Is there any chance you could see me too? / Cause I love you / Is there anything I could do / Just to get some attention from you?”

i picked this song as n expression of how desperate maria wants and needs james’ love and affection, and james’ overall lukewarm response to that. i can’t really say why i put this first, but i feel the melancholy desperation feel of the song sets a nice opening tone for the mix

ii. the wrong year - the decemberists

“Could be that he's into you / Could be that the obverse is true / And he wants you but you won't do / And it won't leave you alone [...] The spirit's willin' / Flesh is getting bored / Speakers blaring out some long forgotten chord / Some misbegotten, long forgotten chord”

this one i picked because i feel it really hits the maria is inherently stuck in the wrong time and the wrong place, and how things were never really meant to work out for her and how frustrating that is. there’s more hints at the frustration of james’ lack of interest. also continuing the lovelorn sympathetic kind of song to establish in the beginning maria as a sympathetic, human character.

also: i first considered “make you better” by the decemberists for its mood, but this had more fitting lyrics

iii. black sun - death cab for cutie

“There is an answer in a question/ And there is hope within despair / And there is beauty in a failure / And there are depths beyond compare [...] How could something so fair / Be so cruel”

aaand here’s where i wanted to start throwing in the lowkey omnious mood of silent hill. after all, maria is technically designed as some sort of temptress (regardless of her own agency). anyway, here’s the “maria is pretty and all, but... what’s going on here” song. things are bad in the town of silent hill

iv. ampersand - amanda palmer

“Has any girl in history said / Sure, you seem so nice, let's get it on / Still, I always shock them when I answer / Hi, my name's Amanda [...] But you've got the headstone all ready / All carved up and pretty / Your sick satisfaction / Those his and hers matching / The daisies all push up'n / Pairs to the horizons [...] And I'm not gonna live my life on one side of an ampersand / And even if I went with you I'm not the girl you think I am [...] I'm not the one that's crazy”

okay there’s a lot going on here. first off, the sort of bizarre tone of things like the first set of lyrics above that i feel really show silent hill/born from a wish. the second section (daisies) is directed at james and his own issues and ideas which ultimately are projected onto and burden maria. so the last part is the pushback (”i’m not the girl you think i am” “i’m not the one who’s crazy”), and the anger at james for valuing maria only as far as she’s mary. anyway a disjointed chaotic song for a disjointed chaotic situation

i also considered “olly olly oxenfree” or even “trout heart replica” but the relationship troubles at the heart of this song won me over

v. atrophy - the antlers

“I’ve been repeating your speeches but the audience just doesn't follow / Because I'm leaving out words, punctuation and it sounds pretty hollow / I’ve been living in bed because now you tell me to sleep / In your dreams I'm a criminal, horrible, sleeping around / While you're awake, I'm impossible, constantly letting you down.”

how could i make a sh2 mix without including a song off of hospice? i mean REALLY. to be fair most of the songs are more of a james and mary vibe than maria, but i feel this can work. mary still lingers over it, but that kind of works for how mary lingers over maria. so that’s what this is - the shadow of mary over maria, and how james can never really be satisfied with her because of it

vi. bernadette (post romanian storm) - IAMX

“Winding down your emotions / Family and friends / Becoming ghosts to dream of and pass on / Time will erase every face every name / We are alone /No-one to blame”

here’s where the mix starts to take a turn for the darker. i’d say this is maria as temptation, her existence as a means to try and guilt james. i felt it was important to include that because her existence as a temptress stereotype makes maria’s whole story all the much sadder. also, i chose this version because i felt the more subdued version made it feel more intimate and unsettling

vii. oleander - mother mother

“I make a mess and you'll be there to help me undress / I'll be unclean, I'll be obscene, you'll be the rest / And if you leave me, rest assured it would kill me”

i feel this is a bit of a retread of the theme brought up in “i love you”, but far more desperate and toxic. this helps continue the downward spiral of the mix overall. i think it also helps re-contextualize james and maria’s relationship as something deeply unhealthy, and maria’s desperate need for attention as destroying her.

i also considered “love it dissipates” for this, but went with oleander for the toxic desperation it embodies. also, a poisonous flower seems appropriate.

viii. closer - the tiny

“I met him when the sun was down / The bar was closed, we both have had no sleep / My face beneath the streetlamp, it reveals what it is / Lonely people seek / Closer, closer”

this one speaks more to the loneliness of silent hill, and the loneliness of maria’s existence. also the theme of “closer” - maria’s desperate need to be close to james. this is also the first of the doppelganger songs. two songs i felt fit happened to have the same name, and i decided to use both because the whole thing about doubles and whatnot.

ix. closer - paulina andreeva

“Let me feel no fear and anxiety / I’m not alone [...] Even if you are my insanity / We’re not alone / We’re not alone / Closer /Closer / Closer / Closer to you”

okay. first off. do you know how hard it was to find a video of this? i didn’t want to use the video i found it off of but this video was literally the only other one of this edit of the song i could find. also i had to write these lyrics myself. fucking obscure russian songs

anyway. the second doppleganger song, and the continuation of the closer theme. this one the tone really speaks more than the lyrics. this captures not only the anxious dread of silent hill (”we’re not alone” could be seen as meaning the monsters), but also the way in which staying with james allows maria to not be alone. this is when the downward spiral kicks up a notch

x. reflektor - arcade fire

“Alone in the darkness / a darkness of white / We fell in love / alone on a stage / in the reflective age [...] We're so connected / but are we even friends? [...] I thought I found a way to enter / it was just a reflector. (Just a reflector) / I thought I found the connector / it was just a reflector. (Just a reflector) [...] Just a reflection of a reflection / of a reflection of a reflection of a reflection (ah!) / but I see you on the other side / We all got things to hide [...] Thought you were praying to the resurrector / turns out it was just a reflector”

honestly, i could have quoted the whole song. i think if you had to pick one song to sum up all of sh2, it’s be this song. it captures the confusing, illusionary nature of silent hill, the mary/maria reflection, the feeling of lost love and false love, james’ desire to leave/find something/bring something back that is ultimately nothing but a reflection of himself. maria, after all, is just a reflctor.

xi. missing link - revoluation girl utena OST

“An unconnected me / Yet a connected power / Oh illusions, / Why am I / Here right now? / I never wanted to be born / And yet I was / My heart is just like / An object to be used / To be born and die / To be born and vanish / To repeat this / How absurd! [...] Look, now the vanished me is living”

when the song the mix title is from is at the very bottom of one of my mixes, you know it’s a big deal. and it’s an RGU song. so [cracks knuckles] here we go. (i am using the translation from here. most other translations i’ve seen have been pretty similar, give or take a little.) the end of the downward spiral.

this song, i feel, is the ultimate expression of the despair of maria’s existence. to be born from a wish is a terrible fate. maria was only ever meant to be something to fulfill james’ wish and embody his guilt, and that’s what she’s stuck doing despite having her own existence and agency. a tragic fate.

...but this song has a context, and that too works for maria. she is a bit of a rose bride figure, after all! she exists to embody the male gaze and is an idealized form of male sexual desires. her purpose is not her own, but tied to james. she is repeatedly brutalized for the sake of the male figure and exists only to bear his suffering and cause more. i’m not sure how much more rose bride-y you can get without getting impaled by a few hundred swords, but maria’s been imapled like 4 times so she’s getting there

xii. love psalm - silent hill 2 OST

[instrumental]

i wanted to end with something a little less, uh, existentially horrifying. it was only appropriate to use love psalm, which plays on the credits of born from a wish. more than anything, this is maria’s song, and it felt like ending it with someone that was uniquely hers would be nice. i consdered using the version of this from book of memories with lyrics, since some of them fit. check it:

“To be forced to feel the hearts break / How much of this torture can I take? [...] If you could rewrite our life any way that you please / Would you tear out the pages of our memories? / Would you take back the pain and all the hurt we create? / Or could you be satisfied with the love that you've made with me?”

...but i felt the original instrumental version, the one actually from born from a wish, was more appropriate an ending. so there you go.

extra: in addition to the substitutions from bands used i considered listed above, i also considered “careful you” by tv on the radio. i felt the sound of the song didn’t quite gel with the rest of the mix.

#long post cw #ask to tag #silent hill #i should make a tag for maria

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