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ot3 · 3 years

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Sorry to bother - feel free to ignore. I’m trying to write an orv fic bc. I like them. And I’m having trouble understanding why with the regression depression it’s the happy memories that get yjh the most. Best I can figure it’s bc he can use the bad memories to propel him forward - like he’s doing this to avenge them. But the good memories force him to realize these people are gone and he’ll never see them again. Do you have any thoughts? Thanks!

i think that's definitely more or less accurate! i think the 'those people are gone and he'll never see them again' bit you've pointed out is the critical piece here. ill stick my further thoughts below the cut. this is really long because i've pulled a LOT of long chunks of text from the novel to shore up this point. i just got home from work so my thoughts are gonna be a little bit incoherent here. skip to the end if you're not interested in reading all the segments i pulled from the text. spoilers all the way up through chapter 508

first things first, let's just go back to the novel and look at all the bits where YJH's depression gets brought up

“Maybe Yoo Jonghyuk-nim has already repeated a few lives. You have fought against terrible enemies and struggled against the beings of this world to save people. Enduring alone, lonely memories… We respect your sublime spirit.”

This jerk, such skillful flattery. Yoo Jonghyuk would be moved to tears if he heard. Later when he was depressed, I would have to tell him these words.

“But Yoo Jonghyuk-nim should’ve realized it from your past regressions. Even if you have an outstanding miracle, you alone can’t fight against the disasters that will come.”

Plus, he was right.

- from ch 48

「 Everything is twisted because of this person. 」

「 It is different from what I know in the earlier regressions. The amount of information available is too limited. I can’t save the world like this. 」

What was this?

「 The reason I was hurt by the Salvation Church was because we spent too much time in the last round. It was a mistake to train for 100 years then. My mind was permanently damaged. 」

「 Maybe it was a mistake not to get the Absolute Throne. 」

「 I will start from the beginning again… 」

Dammit, the regressor’s depression had begun. Was it due to the mental attack? I cried out in fear of what he would decide. “I’m hurt you jerk!”

- from ch 140

「 Those people can’t save the world, even with 100 trucks. 」

「 Once again, the answer is regression… 」

“Now now, our Supreme King isn’t in a good mood right now so back off. Do you want to die?” I personally stepped forward to get rid of any causes of depression.

- later on in ch140 as well

This jerk, he was always so impatient. He had been given time to rest but he was still busy thinking. Regardless of his depressed state, Yoo Jonghyuk was Yoo Jonghyuk.

“Before that, let’s take a moment to breath. The view is great.” I said while sitting on the roof railing.

Yoo Jonghyuk asked me, “What are you up to?”

“I’m just looking at the world. Isn’t it beautiful?” The city of Seoul was destroyed by the monsters. I quickly added, “It was originally a beautiful place.”

“I don’t like landscapes.”

“Why?”

“They are things that will disappear someday.”

I thought I had a bit more understanding of the third regression Yoo Jonghyuk after fighting against Shin Yoosung. I wanted to believe he was a person who could love this world without giving up or feeling despair.

I told him, “However, we need to protect these things.”

“Kim Dokja, you don’t know.”

This might be my misunderstanding. Yoo Jonghyuk could give up at any time because he was still in the midst of his regressions.

In the end, Yoo Jonghyuk’s purpose was to prevent the ‘destruction of this world.’ Paradoxically, he could give up on this world at any time. His essence was regression and this fact would never change.

“No, I know,” I replied.

“What?”

“The fact that you can regress at any time means that death is meaningless.”

I looked down at Lee Seolhwa caring for the injured. Lee Seolhwa was feeding her boiled soup to an unknown person. Despite her efforts, there was a high probability that the character would die. Even if they lied now, they would die tomorrow. If they miraculously survived tomorrow, they would die the day after tomorrow.

It was the same in the fourth regression and the fifth regression. There would always be ‘death’ in the world of Yoo Jonghyuk, even after passing the 100th regression.

“If there is no sense of death then the value of life also disappears.”

- ch141

There was the vague belief that he could do better in the next round with more information. It was easy for him to give up on this regression if something went wrong.

This was the precursor symptom of ‘regression depression.’ Some of the contents of Ways of Survival passed through my head.

It was around the 48th regression. Yoo Jonghyuk had consulted with an incarnation of the constellation ‘Discoverer of the Subconscious’ on the ‘regression depression.’ At the time, he seemed to be speaking like I was now.

I continued speaking, “Yes. It might be as you say. If you repeat it 10 or 20 times then it will surely get better. You’ll be exposed to more scenarios and see more of the future. The real problem is when you someday save the world in this manner.”

“What does this mean?”

“At that time, do you really think you saved this world?”

“…”

“Do you think you will be able to keep the same mindset after repeating it 100 or 200 times?”

“I won’t regress that many times.”

I silently stared at Yoo Jonghyuk.

「 …Don’t tell me? 」 Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes slowly widened.

I kept speaking, “Are you having nightmares these days?”

“…”

“You won’t be saved, even if you save the world. The moment you save the world, the worlds you have forsaken will come to you. Despite saving one world, all the other worlds you abandoned will drag you to hell.”

- from further down in ch141

「 Yoo Jonghyuk felt lonely as he saw these watches. They got their time back but he still wasn’t

living in this time. Yoo Jonghyuk suddenly thought. If so, where do I live in those countless hours? 」

It was the monologue of Yoo Jonghyuk, who once saved the Demon World. It was also one of my favourite scenes from Ways of Survival.

I suddenly seemed to understand a bit of his mind. To the regressor Yoo Jonghyuk, the time in these worlds didn’t belong to him. In a life that could go back over and over again, the present time was meaningless.

Once this was over, I would ask Aileen to make me a watch. If he had something like this, he might become more attached to this world. Maybe the regression depression would get better…

- ch 207

A person who regressed more than a thousand times. A spirit that had become insensitive from the hundreds of suicides and tragedies that an individual could suffer. The extremely widespread regression depression…

「 Yoo Jonghyuk of the 1863rd round is the despair of the world itself. 」

- ch 285

Abnormal condition? There was no way. Who was the 1863rd regression Yoo Jonghyuk? This was Yoo Jonghyuk who was the Ruler of the East Hell and killed the Devil of Principles. There was no one among the constellations who could place an abnormal condition on the present Yoo Jonghyuk.

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes were blank.

I felt uncomfortable like something was stuck in my throat. No, there was. There was only one person who could cause an abnormal status in Yoo Jonghyuk.

* The target is suffering from ‘regression depression’ due to an unknown cause.

It was Yoo Jonghyuk himself.

Regression depression. The spirit of the man who had been broken over 1863 lives made the regression depression almost a passive, low level skill. Once he fell into the depression, his consciousness was caught in the weight of his memories and he couldn’t wake up.

[Kill him! He isn’t invincible!]

The ruthless strikes caused Yoo Jonghyuk’s body to bleed little by little. It was strange. Originally, the regression depression shouldn’t occur in this situation. In the 1863rd round, Yoo Jonghyuk had learnt how to manage this disease.

- ch 286

then this REALLY LONG BIT from 287. it has stopped letting me indent for some reason so i guess ill bold this.

I knew how to wake up Yoo Jonghyuk from his regression depression. In other words, it meant I also knew how to sink him deeper into that melancholy.

I saw Yoo Jonghyuk’s fingertips moving and opened my mouth. “Do you remember? The 33rd round. You cleared the 40th scenario and Lee Jihye said this.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s eyes dimmed and his moving fingertips stopped.

「 “It would be nice if Master didn’t have to go to the next round.” 」

“Think about it. You weren’t always unhappy. Right? In all the rounds, there were moments when you were happy.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s expression was becoming stiffer.

“The 173rd round. You protected Earth for quite some time. You also saw Lee Jihye receiving her high school diploma and Lee Seolhwa smiling at someone’s child.”

「 “Jonghyuk-ssi, are you happy that you’re alive?” 」

Every time I spoke, Yoo Jonghyuk’s expression collapsed. It wasn’t despair that broke down Yoo Jonghyuk.

“The 383rd round. You finally cleared the 75th scenario. Fortunately, nobody died in that round. That was the first time. Then Lee Hyunsung told you.”

「 “Jonghyuk-ssi, I won’t forget today until I die.” 」

The feather-like memories sank into his head.

“Then the 498th round…”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s palms moved to cover his ears. The usual Yoo Jonghyuk wouldn’t have fallen from this much. Now it was different. I held his hands and kept talking. “That happened 10 times.”

A human sank deeper into the water just because of the weight of these feathers.

“Twenty times.”

My breath clogged up and my lungs tightened. I could feel what Yoo Jonghyuk was going through. Only I could feel it. The most primitive darkness at the bottom of one person was swallowing his ego greedily.

“100 times. It repeated over 1,000 times.”

All those words were destroyed. All the happy memories flowed back to a time they could never return to. Through the countless regressions, the meaning of happiness faded. All the values he preserved became pieces of torn paper.

“Yoo Jonghyuk.”

Yoo Jonghyuk’s self was sinking into the deep sea. It was to a place that he could never come up from without someone’s help.

“Have you protected all the things you wanted to keep?”

I looked at Yoo Jonghyuk’s miserable face and thought: Don’t worry Yoo Jonghyuk. I’ll do the rest. You stop and rest.

[Your understanding of the character ‘Yoo Jonghyuk’ is increasing explosively.]

Yoo Jonghyuk’s empty eyes were showing memories of losing his master. I didn’t use Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint but it wasn’t hard to read.

「 I want to die. 」

「 I want to finish all of this. 」

「 If only I can never wake up. 」

A few drops of rain fell from the sky. It was black rain made from the blood of the demon kings and constellations. Liquid also flowed onto Yoo Jonghyuk’s face. Yoo Jonghyuk’s gaze lowered and finally fell on me.

I was looking at the moment a human’s spirit collapsed. There was a broken voice. Like a creaking machine, Yoo Jonghyuk stammered, “Wh,at… should, I, d…o?”

i think this one is obviously very important.

then, the 'have you protected all you wanted to protect' stuff obviously reaches its culmination in the finale

⸢The regression depression.⸥

That was the only weakness of Yu Jung-Hyeok, who had repeatedly regressed for a very long time.

[In the 173rd turn. You managed to protect Earth for a pretty long time. You got to see Yi Ji-Hye receive her high school diploma, and you even got to see Yi Seol-Hwa smile with another’s child in her arms.]

The light in Yu Jung-Hyeok’s eyes was wavering.

⸢It wasn’t despair that could defeat Yu Jung-Hyeok.⸥

⸢Small feather-like memories settled down inside his head one by one.⸥

The ‘Dokkaebi King’ was using the exact same method I relied on back then.

⸢The breathing got harder, and the lungs were getting tighter.⸥

⸢A man drowning in water would sink even deeper under the surface from the weight of a mere feather.⸥

I couldn’t afford to idly watch on anymore. I shouted at Yu Jung-Hyeok, telling him to wake up, and not to fall for such an illusion.

However, my voice couldn’t reach them as if a non-conductive barrier was set up between us. And the ‘Dokkaebi King’ was smiling away, perhaps to mock this entire story.

[Yu Jung-Hyeok, have you protected all that you wanted to protect?]

Slowly, Yu Jung-Hyeok’s knees sank down.

I roused the Status of Fables. I needed to undo that ⸢Stage Transformation⸥ right now, But, how should I…

Grab.

There was a hand still tightly clutching mine. It was Han Su-Yeong.

“That’s not a battle you can interfere in.”

“But, if he’s left alone….!”

“….Even a star that can’t be seen still emits light. You said that, right?”

….A star that can’t be seen?

Her words made me look back at Yu Jung-Hyeok once more.

His gaze being lowered had come to a stop. Blinding sparks were completely enveloping him.

Tsu-chuchuchuchu….

Something was waking up his fading consciousness.

[Great Fable, ‘Ones that Remember the Apocalypse’, has begun its storytelling!]

That was a Fable I wasn’t aware of.

As the sparks lessened gradually, several silhouettes revealed themselves. Now that I took a closer look, Yu Jung-Hyeok wasn’t alone. No, four others were standing beside him.

A tall man, a young man with blonde hair, a girl with a ponytail, and finally…

[[He couldn’t protect anyone. That’s why he now stands in this place.]]

….An Archangel with blindingly-pure wings.

Astonishment quickly dyed the Dokkaebi King’s expression.

The Fable from the destroyed 999th turn was now burning brightly like the conflagration of end times on the edges of the Archangel’s blade.

[[Because he believes there are still things left to protect.]]

- from ch 508

Now here's a couple of tidbits about depression when it comes up for Other entities:

The fastest thing to get shaved away after becoming a Constellation was their own ‘Fable’. The more a Constellation depleted its story, the weaker its power would get. They would grow bored, disinterested, fall into depression, or lose themselves in tedium.

Constellations would desperately seek out other Fables in order to escape from such a quagmire. In other words, they would search for a new tragedy to escape from this horrible eternal cycle, even if it was only for a brief moment.

- ch 498

⸢[Constellation, ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’s’ ■■ is ‘Something that can’t be found’.]⸥

I had read what his ■■ was from the original novel. His description showed up when he became Yu Jung-Hyeok’s ally for a little while during the 1863rd turn.

⸢The evil dragon suffering from the worst possible depression in this <Star Stream>.⸥

The reason why the ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ believed his age to be 15 was simply that he’d not be able to continue on if he didn’t.

A life stretching for thousands, no, tens of thousands of years, made an originally solitary dragon into such a creature.

In order to stop itself from decaying, he chose not to age. He chose not to lose his curiosity of the world. He chose to torment Incarnations or play bizarre pranks. And for his final prank, he even chose to betray the ‘Absolute Evil’, too. He stood on Yu Jung-Hyeok’s side and while mocking the <Star Stream>, breathed his last.

- ch 503

okay so

i think there are a couple of different ways to look at the regression depression in line with each of orv's 'themes'. of course despair at losing his comrades is the main primary emotion here, but there's subtler stuff going on here too.

for starters, the foundational components of any creature within the star stream is its stories. the more your stories are known and shared the more powerful they are, etc, etc. time and time again their shared stories are the thing to save them and ground them. but as we see with the hellscape of eternity, yjh begins to become isolated from the interpersonal aspect of the story as he loses the people he originally formed these stories with. the stories are how people communicate. as YJH progresses through his regressions he is unable to relate to the 'story' in the way you are supposed to, and this essentially causes a complete ego death. life no longer has any meaning for him, because he is fundamentally incapable of connecting with people. the [impossible communication] of a life and a burden that can't be shared.

then there's the [samsara] aspect - being worn down by the endless repetition of fate. everything is the same, over and over again, and yet we still delve into it hoping to get something new out of it. maybe the story will be different this time. ABFD was able to stave off depression by keeping himself in a state of permanent novelty - there was still something left to discover - but as YJH progresses through the regressions and falls deeper and deeper into repeating the same pattern, the tedium becomes too much. he has nothing new to experience. he has repeated everything this reality has to offer - or so he thinks - and it shows no sign of ever changing. if it's the same every time, why stick around? why not go again? it doesn't matter. none of it matters. you are just part of the wheel.

and if we think of it in terms of [good and evil] we see yjh slowly become something that almost any human being would call a monster. as kdj says in that conversation with anna croft near the end, "can you really call someone a human if you have to look so hard to find their humanity?" as far as it goes. yjh commits some atrocities! Because of said aforementioned removal from reality and ego death, he is able to fully justify any action it takes no matter how horrendous. and yet his noble goal never changes. undeniably, what he is by the end is some sort of monster. but still, of course, just a man. and he knows this. he feels himself slipping a little bit more, every regression. he knows its coming. and he doesn't want it. he wants to maintain his humanity.

but really i think we can almost best think of yjh's regression depression as almost his equivalent to the [fourth wall]. whereas the 4th wall is a unique passive skill that protects kim dokja by preventing him from fully conceptualizing what's happening to him as 'reality', the regression depression harms yjh by preventing him from conceptualizing what's happening to him as 'reality'. in a sense, his friends and loved ones have almost become 'characters' to him as well, as he already knows the way this story happens. he is an outsider, observing these beings interact with each other but not quite the same as them. he is an anachronism. this isn't his present. this is a present, one he can take or leave at any time. the thing yjh does in his later regressions - using people as tools - is something kdj does in the beginning of his journey. because, well, it doesnt matter if this isn't the 'real world'! they mirror each other.

that ended up being so much longer than i thought it would im sorry. i hope this was even like 10% helpful.

#orv #orv spoilers #yjh

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s8ncake · 3 years

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Originally I wasn’t planning on posting this here, but a friend of mine convinced me. You can also check it out on ao3!

🔞The following fic is nsfw. Minors dni.🔞

Sacrilege

Summary: Simeon has fallen, but he doesn’t view himself as such. No, given the feelings he has towards you, this could only be an ascension; one beyond anything he had in the Celestial Realm, and anything the Devildom could offer. Now he serves no one, only you. His one and only god.

word count: ~5700

⚠️c/w: gore and blood (but Simeon and the reader are fine), yandere!Simeon, sacrilegious themes, blasphemy

Additional note: the reader is gender neutral, and the reader’s genitalia isn’t specified

In ao3, I tagged this with Dead Dove: Do not eat. That still applies here. Make sure you’ve read over the content warnings before proceeding / interacting.

🔞And once again, minors dni.🔞

Falling’s a strange thing, a concept that Simeon never quite understood. It happened to angels who were wicked, those who sought to undo his father’s plan. So they were cut off. From the heavenly host. From their powers. Their wings turned black, and their light faded. Until the only thing left was a darkness, one that sought to consume everything that they once were. They either died or transformed, becoming monsters. Beasts. Demons.

Simeon is none of those things. He didn’t fall to oppose his father, nor did he seek to undo any sort of plan. He’s an author after all, and authors create.

And what could his muse be, other than you?

Your soul is brilliant, a beacon of light amongst everything else in this miserable realm. It took him far too long to see that. But thankfully, his eyes have been opened. And never again shall they shut. In the long span of his existence, he’s seen everything that the universe could offer. Stars. Galaxies. The rise and fall of human civilization itself. Existence itself is always in a state of flux, constantly shifting and warping as things are created and then destroyed.

But you… You exist beyond that.

Your soul never tarnishes, nor does it fade when things get rough. Instead, it fights. Nails. Fists. Some would say that it’s barbaric, but Simeon had always found it to be beautiful. It’s a philosophy that he’s tried to emulate. Words are meaningless, unless they are used to praise you. So now he resorts to action. And well, the saying is true. So perhaps it’s only natural that he uses it to replace his books, that the tales he creates are no longer works of fiction. No, fantasy has lost all meaning now.

There’s only you.

You have always inspired him. Even now, Simeon can’t help but write poetry about you as he moves. The world that he’s in is dark. Depressing. Very little of it is worthy of being compared to someone as brilliant as you. But that doesn’t prevent him from trying.

Today, he starts with a crumbling city. It’s silence echoes throughout the land, and you are the slight breeze that rushes past his ear. The moon, although unlike its cratered surface, you have no imperfections. No, the dips and grooves along your skin are beautiful. Like the glinting of a knife, the way the metal slices through the air. You have pierced his heart just as easily. But that’s okay, it’s yours after all.

It’s a shame that he can’t carve out his own and give it to you. That despite everything, he is still limited by this corporeal form. But if he were to be anything else, then you wouldn’t be able to look at him. And that would get in the way of his worship. A god must be able to view their subjects after all.

Besides, this new form is perfect for him. It’s yet another form of his art, a piece that was made specifically for you. His horns. His tail. His cock… He considered it all. Like a good follower should.

No one else would be able to do that. They are limited by their pathetic mortal frame. Rats. Parasites. They’re unfit to even look upon you. But with another flicker of his knife, they are handled. And he will morph them until something better. Something more suited for you.

The process of creation is a never ending one, especially given the thousands of pieces that he’s working on. Some of them are grand, and others are small. But all of them are for you. How else would he pay tribute?

There’s a gust of wind. Your arrival is soon. He can sense it. It comes with everything that is right. The sun peaking over the clouds. Starlight reflecting off of a lake. The rippling of water as it reveals the creatures that lurk within its depths. The sound of laughter, followed by the blessed silence that he’s come to adore. That is who you are. An omen of things to come. The others say you are bad, but Simeon knows better. It is impossible for you to be anything other than good.

For you are greater than the heavens, and the earth itself. His father was nothing, but you—

There’s a scream as Simeon feels blunt nails dig into his arm. It’s followed by a shove, and footsteps frantically scrambling away from him. ...How annoying.

His latest sacrifice had just ruined his internal monologue. And it was going to be such a good one too. What a shame. If only he had a pen and paper nearby…

They don’t travel far. There’s another sound, although this one is a plea. Simeon silences it with a crunch, and tsks when he looks at his hands. That was messier than he had intended, but it looks like no longer needs any ink. An amused chuckle falls from his lips. Would you like that? Poetry written in the blood of your enemies, the very nonbelievers who seek to destroy the world that the two of you are trying to create?

...Perhaps that’s something to try next time. Right now, he has something more important to focus on. He’s still in the process of creation after all, and he’s not finished decorating. Thankfully this… creature (it can’t be a human, for nothing could compare to you) should provide him with the rest of the materials that he needs. So Simeon gets to work.

This too is a form of art, and one he would never have considered before. But he has expanded beyond quills and parchment. Now he builds sculptures out of the very people who would defy you. Those who are unworthy of being graced with your presence. They are broken down, and fashioned into a suitable idol.

Another splash of crimson. The breaking of bones. Wire. Nails. And then it’s done. Your new altar is complete. Simeon takes a step back, appraises his work, and grins. It’s perfect.

Fresh blood drips off of it, reminding him of rain, the way it softly drizzles and brings life to those around it. This is a form of life as well, one that does nothing but speak of your greatness. The various limbs that have been tacked and strung above it make a rainbow, an icon of the color you have given this dull and drab world. Maybe one day you’ll be able to color it all. But the best part about it is when you stand away, when you view his masterpiece from a distance. It takes the shape of a heart, one that resembles his own. And it exists entirely for you.

The wind picks up, howling in his ears, and he knows that you are here. Once you enter the room, Simeon falls to his knees. He doesn’t have to stay there for long; it’s simply a gesture of formality, one that reminds you of how important you truly are.

“You may rise.”

He follows the command without hesitation. Your voice is a melody. A soothing tone that seeps into his bones and leaves him feeling lighter. It truly is an act of kindness that you’ve allowed him to stand as your equal, if only for a brief moment. But he will be on his knees again soon enough.

He can’t wait.

A sigh falls from your lips once you notice the various remains that litter the floor. “Those were supposed to be the new recruits. I guess none of them were willing?”

Simeon nods. “They were all unworthy of you.”

“A shame.” Your eyes then roam over his altar. He awaits your response with trepidation. ...Do you like it?

But as always, there’s no need for him to voice his question. Like the god you are, you already answer it with a grin. Your power, your majesty, truly knows no bounds. “You’ve found a better use for them though. I’m pleased.”

A shiver runs down Simeon’s spine. Your approval means everything. It is the air that fills up his lungs and allows him to breath. He feels incredibly lucky, to be blessed with such a thing.

It only inspires him to work even harder for what comes next. There is no church here, nor is there a temple. But those measly little things are unneeded. Your body outshines it all. And that is what he shall worship.

A strike of a bell, and then Simeon kneels before you once as you sit upon your handmade throne. It begins now. Sacrament. He licks his lips in anticipation.

You are an image, perched atop yet another one of his creations. Although this one is his favorite. There’s no flesh or bone, only gold. Treasure that he had stolen from the Celestial Realm and the Devildom alike. Melting it was difficult, but the result was definitely worth it. For now you have a throne, one that suits your majesty.

It makes him feel small, as it should. Your presence is grand, a shining iridescent star amongst the blank canvas that he’s created. And it’s reflected in his eyes once you beckon him forward.

He delicately peels each and every garment off of you, savoring the sight of your body as it’s slowly revealed to him. He’s seen it before, yet you never fail to take his breath away. Every hair, every scar, all of the dips and grooves that make up who you are; Simeon loves it all. How could he not?

Beauty takes the form of your legs, the way they spread open before him. Magnificent is the sight that greets him, your most intimate parts bare now before his gaze. Adoration is what he feels when you whisper his name and guide his head forward. And divinity, well... that is what you taste like.

He dives in with enthusiasm. You immediately grab onto his horns, and pull him in closer. Simeon groans. They’re handles after all, ones that he made specifically for you. To tug. To control. He is but a follower, and you are a god. One that will never fail to help him find the right path.

And everything about this, the taste of your essence on his tongue, is right.

Every noise that you make spurs him on. This is what you deserve. The pleasure that courses through your veins. The moans that fall from your lips. It’s a shame that he can’t give you more, not yet at least. One day the world will be yours, but until then… an orgasm will have to do.

You cum with a cry, one that could shake the very heavens itself. A part of him hopes that they've heard you, but the other knows that they are unworthy of such a thing. He laps up each and every drop. It would be a sin to allow any of it to spill. Nothing you create should ever go to waste. Especially when it’s this good.

Once your orgasm ends, he pulls away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It’s a shame that he cannot taste you forever; that like all good things, it must come to an end. But his worship of you is far from over. No, the two of you have only just begun.

Your eyes meet, and Simeon’s tongue lolls out, wiping away the spare traces of your cum. A chuckle, then you gently pat his head. “Such a good boy Simeon. You’ve improved.”

Pleasure shoots down his spine the moment you praise him. This is what he’s after. This is the reason he exists. To serve you. To please you. Your fingers begin to run through his hair, and a moan falls from his lips as he leans into your touch.

“You remember what comes next, don’t you?”

Of course. His worship of you is a form of art, one that he has practiced over and over again. Simeon nods, and then finally removes the last of his clothing.

His cock springs free. It’s hard. Leaking. He wants you, as always. But how could he not? Your visage is the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. Your voice rolls through his mind like honey. He loves you.

It’s normal of course, for a follower to love their god. Yet even the word itself feels unsatisfactory. One day he’ll have to create a new one. But until then, love will have to suffice. Besides, he has better ways to show his devotion. Actions speak louder than words after all. So despite the desire that courses through him, he doesn’t even make an attempt to touch himself. His own pleasure is unimportant. The only thing that matters is you.

So instead he stays on his knees. Where he belongs. He starts with your ankle, placing feather light kisses along each one as his mouth slowly works his way up to your calf. You gasp once he reaches your thighs, and then the next part of sacrament begins: creation.

In the past he created galaxies. Stars. Nebulas. Simeon had the luxury of forming several of them before that task was given to someone else. But thanks to you, he can perform it once more. Only this time the materials are different. Instead of creating constellations in the sky, he makes them on your body.

Today he starts with the Big Dipper. He lightly suckles on your thighs, mapping out each and every star, and once that constellation is done, he moves onto another. Caenis Major. Orion. Cygnus. Your body looks even more breathtaking like this, so he adds a few more. These ones are new, ones that he just made up. They have yet to have a name, but for now… Consecratio will have to do. Perhaps he’ll be able to come up with a more official title for them later.

Your name falls from his lips, along with a moan, and something inside of him slips. He falls even further into your depths. Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. His name never sounded so pretty; but everytime you say it, he can feel his cock begin to swell. He is the one you want. The only being that makes you feel like this, and the only one that ever will.

You are his god.

Blood rushes through him, staining his cheeks, hardening his cock even further. In the haze of his own mind, his mouth parts from your skin, and his fingers enter you instead.

You mewl at the intrusion. This isn’t how things are supposed to go. This step comes later on, yet Simeon can’t wait. He wants to see you cum once more. To hear your praise as he pleasures you beyond your own comprehension.

Perfect. Stunning. Simeon adds another finger, his gaze fixed on your expression and nothing else. Finding that spot within you is easy. He had memorized its location long ago as proof of his devotion. Each and every part of your body has been mapped out, a never ending piece of parchment that he keeps in his head. In truth, Simeon has never been much of a navigator. But your body is the only thing that he needs to know.

You moan once again. You’re close, Simeon can feel it. Although he’s neglected to take his own pleasure into account. He’s close as well.

Simeon hasn’t even laid a hand on himself, yet his own noises grow louder. Every gasp. Every groan. Knowing that he’s able to do this to you spurs him on, his cock aching from how much it desires you. Yet your image drowns all of that out.

His peak arrives, but he never gets to fully reach it. Instead, your hand clenches around the base of his cock, preventing him from cumming.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. Recite your scripture as punishment.”

His labored breathing echoes across the room, and Simeon’s eyes widen once he realizes his mistake. He was being selfish, allowing his own pleasure to get in the way of yours. Lust is a vise that he should have had better control of. He was a fool to let it get in the way of his love, so he accepts your punishment with grace.

Magic soon replaces your hand, creating a cockring that now leaves your fingers free to move up and down along his shaft. His breathing stutters, but he’s thankful for the intervention. More of your magic curls around his body, brushing up against his skin. It’s a sign of what’s to come, yet he shoves that excitement aside, or tries to at least.

Simeon frowns. The cockring was sorely needed. It makes sure that he doesn’t forget about what’s truly important. No matter what, he isn’t allowed to cum before you. The only sin that exists is putting his pleasure before your own. Yes, he deserves to be punished for this. His devotion towards you never should have wavered.

So he opens his mouth, and speaks; his voice not faltering despite the way your hand moves across his shaft. “The steadfast love of you, my god, never ceases. Your mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning.”

You press one of your fingers against his slit, smearing some of his precum along the head of his cock. A shudder runs down Simeon’s spine. Your touch is a blessing, one that he can never get enough of. But he cannot focus on it. No. The pleasure is unimportant. You must be worshipped.

“There’s no greater love other than this: to lay down my life for you.”

He focuses on the words instead, and on everything that they entail. He would gladly die for you. In both this timeline, and any of the other ones that follow. The universe is full of constants: gravity, matter, humanity itself, and the devotion that he feels towards you. Those are all things that shall exist in every universe.

No matter what, Simeon loves you. And he will die and fall as many times as he needs in order to prove it. Although he’s never met any of his alternate selves, he already knows that it’s true. His love cannot be contained in any vessel. It flows throughout time and space, and every spec of it is dedicated towards you and you alone.

Your hand leaves his cock. Simeon feels it twitch under the absence of your touch. A part of him wants to whine, but he holds that in. He refuses to sin once more, to tarnish his reputation as your most devout follower. So he simply continues reciting the words that he’s come to know by heart.

Indeed, you’re no longer stroking him. But that’s only because your hands have wondered elsewhere. A finger traces the rim of his ass, and it doesn’t take Simeon long to put two and two together. Ah. He had never—

You enter him. Slowly but surely, although there’s no resistance. Another one quickly joins it. Your fingers are slick from his precum and some of your own spit, not to mention your magic… It widens him, making lube unnecessary. Not that he would ask for any. No, he’s being punished right now. This is simply another example of your benevolence.

The feeling is strange, but he continues. “I give thanks to you, for everything about you is good. Our love endures forever.”

Your fingers haven’t stopped moving. They’re searching around for something, although Simeon doesn’t know what you're looking for. There’s nothing left of him to find. You have seen it all.

“And I know that in all things, you do good for those who love you, who have been called according to your purpose.”

And then you brush up against a spot inside of him, one that has him seeing stars. He’s unable to stop the surprised “Oh!” that falls from his mouth, or the way he tries to fuck himself on your hand. Thankfully that was the last verse, so there’s no harm in letting another mewl spill from his throat.

You laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, one that Simeon is blessed to hear. “What a good little follower. If you beg for me, I’ll let you cum.”

He wants to. To immediately get on his knees and beg for you to fuck him, as you take away the last shred of innocence that he has. Ah, but take isn’t the right word. Give. He would give it all to you. That purity is nothing more than a cocoon, one he’s been working on shedding himself of. It only gets in the way of loving you. Besides, how could he perform his tasks if he was worried about heaven’s definition of sin? No, there’s too much work to be done. And what he’s doing is okay. You’ve told him so.

Submitting to the desire that's coursing through him would be easy, but this is a test. One that he refuses to fail. Worshiping you takes precedence. It always does. “No. I wish to pick up where we left off. My only desire is to pleasure you.”

You flash him a smile, one more brilliant than the sun. “Your devotion truly is admirable. We’ll begin our worship again shortly. But first, I’m going to fuck you like this, okay? Remember the feeling of my fingers Simeon. Because next time, you’re going to cum around them and nothing else. Do you understand?”

Next time. He’ll be ready then. And you will finally own all of him. He can’t wait. “Yes, my beloved. I’ll do as you ask.”

You hum in approval, and then your fingers start moving once more. Pleasure courses through him, and he bites his lip as he smothers his gasp. You are everything. This is everything.

“I don’t want you to hold back Simeon. Let me hear you.”

Of course. This is a form of devotion too. How could he have forgotten that? A high pitched moan immediately falls from his lips. Words are hard, but Simeon still manages to speak. You wanted to hear his voice after all.

“G—Good. So good.”

Another finger gets added. Somehow the pleasure increases. His cock aches. It’s hard and weeping, yet he doesn’t care. The pleasure that you have shown him outshines it all. And he never wants this moment to end.

His mind is slowly becoming blank, the fog of lust threatening to consume his every thought. But Simeon shoves it all aside. Vocal. He has to focus on being vocal.

You briefly pull out. A fourth finger teases at his entrance, and your voice coos into his ear, “Can you handle more?”

More. The possibility excites him. He had no idea that it was an option. But he will do it. Of course he will. As your follower, it’s his duty to handle every inch of you. That’s why he created this vessel in the first place. And Simeon leaps at each and every opportunity to put it to the test.

He has to think, to piece the fragile bits of his mind together in order to form a response. But as soon as he comes close to making one, the magical ring around his cock vibrates. It’s slow, a low thrum that’s incredibly unsatisfying, yet it leaves him shivering all the same.

It’s a warning. He still can’t cum after all, and unless he performs well… he may never be able to. A response. You need one now. “Fuck. Y-Yes I can handle more.”

And like the benevolent god you are, you give him exactly that. Yes, you’re so wide inside of him. He didn’t even know that it was possible to feel this full. That his body could accommodate this much. And the fact that one of your limbs is inside of him... Simeon keens.

Truly, he’s unworthy of such a thing. Your fingers, your hand, should be elsewhere. That you would even consider touching him there is already enough to make him cum. Thankfully the cockring is still in place, so the pleasure never has to end.

He focuses on the shape of your hand, the dip and groove of each finger; the way it scrapes against his walls as you slam into him. Your pace is rough. Brutal. Heavenly. His mind goes hazy underneath it all. No. He can’t let this consume him. This is only a preview of what’s to come, and you are gracious enough to give it to him.

It’s another test. But this one… Oh, this one is his favorite.

Another wave of pleasure. He’s a shivering mess, one that can do nothing more than scream for you. Time itself has no meaning. There’s only this; the fullness that you provide, and the love behind each and every gesture that you make. He mewls out your name once more, and then it’s over.

He’s repented for his mistakes.

Your fingers… no it was your fist, pulls out of him. Simeon briefly whines at the loss. He falls to the floor, and then you place that very same hand in front of his lips. He lavishes it with kisses, and groans. More. He needs more.

And he knows that there will be more to come. It’s all a part of his worship after all. The taste of your inevitable union will be even stronger, richer. This is but a treat, a kind dessert that you have gifted him. The real meal comes later on. But Simeon is willing to wait. Once he’s finished lapping at your hands, he moves to your altar and lays himself upon it.

This is his final offering. His body is yours to use as you see fit.

You get up. Although Simeon cannot see it, he hears your bare feet walking across the abandoned chapel’s floor. There is no choir, but the ex-angel wants to sing when you impale yourself upon him.

A purr leaves your throat. “You feel perfect.”

He’s glad. Like his horns, his cock is made for you. Every ridge, every bump, was created to maximize your pleasure. No toy will ever compare. Simeon made sure of that.

You begin to move. He allows you to set the pace as his nails dig into your thigh. Perfect. You fit perfectly around him. He feels an incredible amount of pride as you gasp and moan with the rise and fall of your hips. Out of all of the offerings that he’s made, his mortal form is definitely the best. The flush of your cheeks proves it.

The magic around his cock finally loosens, and you clench around him. Simeon’s climax quickly follows your own. The tangling of tongues. The squirting of cum. He finished inside of you, but you don’t remain on his softening cock for long. No, you pull yourself off of him, and Simeon watches as his cum flows out of you.

He licks his lips. This is it. The moment that he’s been waiting for. His favorite part of worship.

Your voice is a command, one that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. “Clean up.”

He immediately begins lapping at your dripping hole. The taste of your cum has melded into his own. Your union has created this, the most delicious thing that Simeon has ever consumed. The essence of a god flows into his mouth, along with the proof that he was the one who had pleasured you. And now it is inside of him. A bond that cannot be broken. He hungers for more.

Simeon lewdly moans as his tongue reaches deeper and deeper into you, searching for every bit of his cum that he can find. Noises fall from your mouth, but like always, he drowns them out with his own. This is a feast, one that the Celestial Realm could never recreate. Their food pales in comparison. Simeon doesn’t understand how he was able to stomach it before.

Another orgasm ripples through you, and he keens as he consumes each and every drop. Were he in a more poetic mood, he would compare it to ambrosia, but he can write verses about you another time. Instead, he focuses on completing this final act. It doesn’t take long. Once he’s thoroughly licked every trace of cum off your body, he pulls away with a grin. You pat his head, and Simeon hums as he leans into your touch.

“I love you.”

The words sound beautiful coming from your mouth. It’s something that you’ve said before. A sentence that led to this exact moment, and many others like it. Yet he’ll never tire of hearing it, of knowing that he has earned those very words time and time again.

“I love you as well. My god. My beloved. And one day, the world will love you too.”

The two of you embrace. And in your arms, Simeon comes up with ideas for his next altar. It’s sure to take everyone’s breath away. It’ll be bigger than the last one. More limbs. More blood. Wires. Nails— Ah, he’s already getting excited.

It’s amazing; how quickly you inspire him, and all it takes is a hug. You truly are an excellent muse, one that he hopes to be completely worthy of someday. But until then, he is simply an author. An artist. One that exists to worship you.

Eventually you take your leave. There’s work to be done after all, especially for a god such as yourself. And although Simeon longs for your embrace… that just makes it more precious when it actually occurs. Besides, he wants his creations to be a surprise, and it’s impossible for that to happen if you’re looking over his shoulder. So the two of you part. And like the quiet whisper of the wind, you’re gone.

The silence doesn’t last long. It’s interrupted by the ringing of his phone. A number shows up on his screen, one that he hadn’t seen in an incredibly long time. He had tried to block it ages ago, but eventually gave up. Technology still confuses him. ...Some things never quite change.

He accepts the call, and Lucifer’s voice greets him. “Simeon.”

He hadn’t heard it in awhile. The man’s tone sounds deeper than he remembered, and it’s entirely different from your own. The contrast throws him for a loop, if only briefly. Simeon clears his throat. For some reason he doesn’t hang up.

“Yes?”

“This has to stop. The two of you are upsetting the balance. If this continues, then Lord Diavolo will intervene.”

A threat. Of course that would be why he called. But Simeon doesn’t care. No one can stop either of you, including the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Your love transcends beyond that. ...It’s a shame that Lucifer still is unable to comprehend what the two of you are trying to achieve.

A part of Simeon can’t help but feel disappointed at the reminder. “Perhaps he’ll join us. You’re welcome to as well, of course.”

“No. What your doing is wrong. You know that, don’t you?”

“I’m simply serving my god.”

“They are just a human, Simeon. And can easily be replaced. There are billions—“

Anger rushes through him; the intensity of it causing him to crack his phone’s screen. His grip loosens, but the rage still festers within him. How dare he.

“Watch your tongue, lest I rip it out of you next time we meet.”

A pause. The silence seems awkward, sad almost. Lucifer eventually breaks it. “...I see I am too late. The others are right. You have fallen. And unlike me, you’ve had no family to help put you back together again.”

“I don’t need one. I have my god, and they have been by my side through thick and thin. What have you done for me, Lucifer?”

Silence. No other answer is needed.

After a minute or two Lucifer sighs. “I must report my failure to Lord Diavolo. You have exactly 48 hours before he arrives. Use them wisely.”

There’s a click, and then the number vanishes from his screen. Lucifer must have hung up. Yet his words echo around in Simeon’s head.

You have fallen. It makes him want to laugh. There is nothing wrong about this. The love that he feels towards you cannot be tainted, nor will it ever waver. For you have given him something that he’s never had before: Freedom. From the Celestial Realm, from his boring day to day life. Simeon had not truly lived until he abandoned it all in favor of following you. No, this was an ascension. One that everyone is too foolish to understand. And Diavolo seeks to destroy everything that you’ve built. But that’s okay, Simeon has a plan.

A few magic circles… some stolen holy relics… and even the future Demon King can be captured. So when he comes, Simeon will be ready, and the foolish prince will walk right into a trap.

A manic giggle bursts from his mouth. This is perfect.

Diavolo will be made to see, like so many others before him. It’s impossible not to after all, given how grand you are. Ah, but Simeon will deny him the privilege of serving you. No matter what, you will only ever have one follower. Diavolo can beg and plead as much as he likes, but he will never get to feel your touch. He hasn’t earned the right, and he never will. Once he has served his purpose, he will be disposed of, just like the rest.

Simeon grins. In truth, The world doesn’t even need to have people in it. A god does not require subjects in order to be considered such. So why bother expanding your little cult, when no one else will ever be able to serve you like him?

You are his. His human. His god. His everything. And no one is going to get in the way of that. This realm will be made into something that is worthy of you, even if he has empty it himself. But once every single creature is gone, and he is the only being left... Then the world truly will love you, won’t it?

#obey me #omnsfw #minors dni #obey me simeon #fallen!Simeon #simeon x mc #simeon x reader #the reader is gender neutral #my writing!#sacrilege

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 6

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - The Truth Behind the Scenes

Yue Wuhuan thought that his eyes would be gouged out by Xianzun soon, and he was shaking from fear.

After Song Qingshi checked him over, he was puzzled: "Are you cold?"

Yue Wuhuan shook his head stiffly.

"If your eyes are not uncomfortable, we can treat them later." Song Qingshi judged the injuries according to its severity. He returned to the table and took off his gloves, picked up the spirit bead, and walked back over. "I found a white powdery medicine around the edges of your nails. After a preliminary inspection, I determined that it contained Deer Spring Grass and Confusion Scented Flowers, which have a strong aphrodisiac effect. In addition, I also found plant ingredients in the incense on your clothes and feather skirt attracts cats. This is the reason why the demon tiger attacked you at the banquet."

He found out. . .

Yue Wuhuan thought in despair.

This was the loophole that he had found when searching for the edge of the Acacia Seal's control. Slaves can't kill themselves, slaves must obey their master's every command. But it was also the master that was happy to see the slave perform an unbearable performance, and was also happy to see the slave played with until death.

All he was able to get were aphrodisiacs that he extracted from psychedelic ingredients. He refined it greatly to make it more likely for animals to lose their sanity.

Therefore, he calculated the time and wrapped the medicine in wax pills to delay the onset of the drugs in the demon tiger's body, and then prepared the smell on his body to attract the monsters. After the atmosphere on the court reached its peak, the demon tiger rushed out under the stimulation of the drugs. He was definitely going to be chosen as its prey. He pretended to be absent after taking the aphrodisiac and took the initiative to step forward. The guests thought it was a show arranged by Jin FeiRen and applauded.

Jin FeiRen was far too proud to do anything and had already found a new favourite anyways. He would never interfere with the entertainment of his guests. Even a little hesitation could mean the demon tiger would completely lose control and tear the guests to pieces.

Yue Wuhuan carried out this plan with the determination to die, and never thought that the truth revealed because he survived.

In Golden Phoenix Manor, if a slave was found to show signs of disobedience, he would be severely punished. What's more, what he did was calculated something behind his master's back, which was absolutely against the rules. . . But what about this?

Yue Wuhuan’s flustered heart gradually calmed down and he recalled that when he first became a slave, because he was unwilling to yield and his wood-type spiritual root was suitable for a speedy recovery, he suffered all the humiliation that the world could inflict under the control of Acacia Seal. He was forced to endure all kinds of unbearable postures, forced to admit that he was more lecherous than the most lecherous flower girl in the brothel; because the beasts thought that he never reacted sufficiently during sex, they used countless kinds of drugs to transform him into having a very sensitive physique until even the friction of ordinary cloth will make him extremely uncomfortable.

Every time he thought that he reached the limit of this hell, he would always see that hell went so much deeper. Finally, after realizing that his despair and resistance would only make those people happier, he gave up these meaningless struggles as well of the idea of getting rid of the Acacia Seal.

His body was so dirty that he just wanted to destroy it. . .

God knows that when the demon tiger rushed forward to tear his body apart, he didn't feel any pain, only utter bliss.

Whether it's plucking out his eyes or cutting off his limbs to make him into medicine, whether it's being thrown into a brothel and toyed with by thousands of people, or thrown to a beast for fun. There wouldn't be any punishment in this world that would make him feel pain.

Yue Wuhuan narrowed his smile and stopped pretending. He looked at the spirit bead coldly and provoked disrespectfully, "Now that you know, what are you going to do?"

Song Qingshi declared with certainty: "Someone wanted to harm you!"

Yue Wuhuan failed in his provocation, and almost missed a breath, thinking that he had misheard: "What?"

Song Qingshi felt that his reasoning was sound. Although he didn't read novels very much, his senior sisters said that the protagonists were good people since the bad guys acting as the protagonist couldn't pass domestic publication censorship. The system's introduction mentioned that the protagonist suffered a miserable fate. These injuries now must also be related to the original plot.

Based on the social news he had read, 80% of the people in Golden Phoenix Manor were jealous of the protagonist's beauty and favour, and want to destroy him. They must have used medicine on his body and nails! So after careful consideration, Song 'Holmes' Qingshi concluded: "I suspect that it must have been the person who dressed you that day. I will find the murderer later and give you justice."

"No." Yue Wuhuan felt that the corners of his mouth were twitching. He didn't believe that the great Xianzun could be so stupid, but the other party seemed to be very serious about making him believe that he was stupid. He didn't know what expression to put on. Finally, he answered stiffly, "There's no need. . ."

When Song Qingshi saw this kindness, he was more sure about his guess of the protagonist. He put the spirit bead into Yue Wuhuan's hands: "This thing belongs to you, so you can put it away."

Yue Wuhuan realized that the spirit bead had not been marked with new spiritual thoughts, and he was dumbfounded.

"I studied this stuff," Song Qingshi explained, "The Acacia Seal involves a spell which is decently complicated. Medicine King's Valley has no way to solve the curse. I have asked the valley servant to go to the Night Rain Pavillion to offer a reward. The master of Night Rain Pavillion said that, although the method of explaining spells is not expensive, it's rare, and it will take some time to hear back."

Yue Wuhuan was stunned for a long time after listening, and asked in a quiet voice: "What price do I need to pay?"

Song Qingshi had been helped by many people, and no one has ever asked him for something in return. He has also helped many people and has never asked for repayment.

In his eyes, the Acacia Seal is a sin against basic human rights. It was the source of the protagonist's suffering is, like the shackles on the feet of a bird. After saving the bird, it is a matter of course to untie the shackles, and it was not worth mentioning.

So he replied casually: "You can focus on recovering and just get well with peace of mind."

The valley servant came to report that the medicine boiling in the yard was almost ready.

Song Qingshi hurriedly went out to check, lest the effect of the medicine would not achieve its desired effect.

Yue Wuhuan looked in disbelief at the spirit bead in his hand, and his noisy thoughts became more confused.

In the world he knew, things that don’t cost anything were the most expensive. . .

Medicine Master Xianzun was even more well-known in the cultivation world for being cold-blooded and cruel. He never knew the meaning of the word 'mercy'. What did he want from him? His body? His life? Or what about his soul? Yue Wuhuan thought for a long time, and couldn't help but chuckle. He tightly grasped the spirit bead in his hand, determined to make a desperate move. If it meant he could get rid of the shackles, he would do anything, even if he had to sell his soul to the devil. . .

When Yue Wuhuan saw Song Qingshi bringing the medicine in, he pondered for a moment about Song Qingshi's impression of him and what he wanted from him. His expression quickly switched to a well-behaved and weak look. He carefully raised his eyes and glanced at him secretly, showing just the right amount of gratitude, leaving himself at the mercy of Song Qingshi's treatment.

This patient was super obedient! He did whatever the doctor told him to do. No matter how disgusting the medicine tasted, he would drink it in one sip. No matter how painful or irritating the needle was, he wouldn't make a sound! He would also thank the doctor in a gentle voice. Song Qingshi took care of him with a sense of accomplishment. He hoped all the patients in the world could be as well behaved as him.

The physical regenerative skills of the wood spirit root were amazing, and the wound on the shoulder of Wuhuan would scab over in five days.

After Song Qingshi checked him over, he was allowed to get out of bed. He was ordered to spend more time in the sun and Song Qingshi proceeded to prepare for the next treatment.

The Medicine Master, whether it was the original body or the current Song Qingshi, does not care much about what he wore. Therefore, the Medicine Master rarely had shark silk or ice silk. The hospital gowns prepared by the valley servants were made of ordinary cotton, which was comfortable for ordinary people, but Yue Wuhuan felt uncomfortable with the friction of the fabric, so he dared not stray too far from the palace. He only took a few steps then stopped.

At night, Song Qingshi noticed that he was walking strangely, so he went to check on him. He didn't expect the slight touch to his collarbone. He hadn't gone down yet and he was still making a fool of himself.

Yue Wuhuan looked at Song Qingshi's stunned expression and those clear eyes that held no evil intentions. The shame that hadn't appeared for a long time came out. He couldn't help avoiding those gentle hands and curled up into the dark corner.

The contrast between purity and sex, clean and dirty, brought out the unbearable reality.

Yue Wuhuan repeated the truths he learned a long time ago in his heart over and over again.

Even if the Acacia Seal was lifted, he couldn't erase the past. . .

Song Qingshi pulled his hand back in embarrassment. He looked at the person hiding in the dark, opening his mouth, not knowing what to say.

Yue Wuhuan quickly realized that what he did was wrong. The other party had long known that he was not a clean person, and it would only be more embarrassing to try and cover it up. He quickly collected himself, and his figure slowly unfolded from the dark depths.

When he smiled and raised his eyes to look at Song Qingshi, there was a thick lust in his eyes. He licked his lips, put his hand on his belt, and said the shameful words that he was used to: "It's so hot, Xianzun wants to see look at this slave's body?"

Rather than letting someone discover he was embarrassed by his body, he would rather take the initiative to show the embarrassment. No matter what kind of contempt and humiliation he endured, as long as he convinced himself that he was a shameless bastard, his heart wouldn't be sad.

Song Qingshi woke up to what was happening before he started to strip off his clothes. He rapidly lowered all the curtains to block the spring scenery in the room.

Yue Wuhuan's ambiguous voice stopped abruptly.

Song Qingshi calmly said: "It's too late, the patient needs to rest."

Yue Wuhuan sat blankly on the bed, watching the faint figure outside the bed's canopy putting out the luminous beads, and then lighting the incense burner. The faint medicinal scent mixed with the smell of agarwood swept over, letting his feverish body gradually cool down. He slowly lay down, curling up again in the lonely darkness.

He suddenly realized that no one would be ravishing him tonight. There was no need to speak disgusting words, let alone force himself to flatter. There was no messy smell in the air, only the unspeakable clean air, which made his always vigilant mind begin to grow dizzy. His eyelids could not stay open, and he dragged into his dreamland.

There was no hell in this dream, only the fragrance of the magnolia tree outside his childhood bedroom window. . .

His body gradually relaxed and he immersed himself in this sweet dream that he hadn't experience for such a long time.

. . .

Song Qingshi stood silently outside the door for a long time, lost in his thought.

Once he was sure that Peaceful Soul Fragrance had played its role, he went back in. Holding the luminous beads, he gently opened the curtain, sat on the side of the bed, and looked at the various problems hidden in this scarred body again with his spiritual thoughts.

After a while, he withdrew his thoughts and quietly looked at Yue Wuhuan’s face. His eyes were clenched shut, and the completely relaxed youth's charming attitude had faded away. He was like a sleeping wild cat with his claws sheathed. Letting his vigilance fade away, as if forgetting the pain he had suffered and showing his true colours.

Freedom, pride, stubbornness. . .

His life should never have been what it was now.

Song Qingshi gently pulled the blanket around him. He brushed his tousled long hair carefully behind his ears, and promised in a low voice:

"I will heal you."

#mistakenly saving the villain #mistakenly saving the villain translation #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #yaoi novel #song qingshi #yue wuhuan

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narutos-fat-meat · 4 years

Text

**After All This Time**

TAGS: Cheating, ANGST

*LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT TO TAG ANYTHING*

******

He tried calling you, tens, hundreds, maybe thousands of times, at first, but your phone had gone straight to voicemail almost every time. Sometimes if he was lucky, it would ring. Once. Maybe twice. It would fill his heart with hope. Hope he knew was futile. Yet he couldn’t help it. He knew that no matter how many times he tried, you wouldn’t pick up.

Maybe if he left a message? Would you even listen? Would you hear his desperate pleas of ‘I love you’ and come back? Would you give him another chance? Would you let him prove his love for you?

Of course not.

So why?

Was it weak to let someone consume him the way he had allowed you to? Of course, it was, but he would do anything to feel your arms around his waist again. Feel your warm embrace once more. Be consumed by the scent of your coconut shampoo just one more time.

Most of all, though, he longed to hear your voice. Even if all you did was scream at him. Even if all you did was tell him how much you hated him. Even if all you did was let him know how you wished him dead. Even if it was just for a second.

Sometimes he imagined what it would be like if you picked up the phone. What would he say? Would he selfishly beg you to come back? Would he go off listing the reasons why he loved you? Or would he just not say anything at all? Too shell shocked to even speak.

What would he do?

What would you do?

He never let himself linger on that thought for too long, though, because it was useless. You weren’t ever going to pick up his calls. He’d given up that privilege the second he had decided to cheat.

So why did he keep trying?

The first month after you left, he’d dialed your number so many times that the sound of your voice repeating The phrase ‘You’ve reached y/n I’m not here right now but leave a message, and I’ll call you back’ will forever be ingrained in his memory.

He sought you out. Called your friends. Called your family. But none of them would admit to having seen you or even having talked to you. Ushijima knew they were Lying straight through their teeth.

At first, it had enraged him. How could they hide you from him? Hide you from your Boyf-oh. That’s right; he’s nothing. He’s the man who broke your heart. The man who threw your love away for a cheap fuck.

He didn’t deserve to know how you were doing. He didn’t deserve to think about you. He didn’t deserve to love you or to have been loved by you.

He tried his best to move on, he did, but every time he did, he remembered the way you sat at the dining room table all those months ago. Remembers how your face had scrunched up in indescribable pain.

He tried his best to have meaningless sex, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch a body that wasn’t yours.

It felt wrong.

Nobody’s skin felt quite as supple and smooth under the harshness of his calloused fingertips. Nobody’s skin felt quite as warm. Nobody’s body succeeded in lighting his skin aflame like yours did.

Nobody could even come close to comparing to you.

How he wishes he had realized it before he lost you.

Your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed by the Alder’s, either. While Ushijima was usually stoic and silent, he was never distracted. Never off his game. Never less than perfect.

The difference was palpable. He had permanent dark rings around his eyes, and he was missing spikes left and right. Nobody on the team had ever seen him look as bad as he did. None of them dared to mention it. No one wanted to touch on the subject, so they let him be.

Watched as he got worse.

Watched him drown in his grief.

He’s not himself. He can’t be. Everything reminds him of you. He’s yet to throw out any of the things you left behind, hoping that one day you’ll come back to claim them, even when it doesn’t make sense. What kind of sane person would claim expired lotion or near-empty tubes of deodorant?

Yet there they still sit.

Months pass, and his grief has yet to lessen. He still feels hollow. He still feels empty.

He still misses you, except he’s much better at hiding it from his team. He can’t let his feelings get in the way of his career. If he didn’t have you, his only consolation was volleyball. He threw himself into it. Harder than he ever had before. Training until odd hours of the night and forfeiting team outings.

He was ‘dedicated.’

His ‘dedication’ pays off in the long run. He’s stood clad in red with the rest of his team, ready to face off against the rest of the world.

He should be over the moon, and yet, his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

He gets to face off against Oikawa once more. Defeat his rival on a much larger scale than he did before.

Before that would have filled him with adrenaline. Set his skin ablaze with the need to destroy, to conquer.

Yet. All he can think of is you.

He plays a beautiful game. He’s in top shape. Slamming down ball after ball after ball. Fills Argentina’s team with fear. He’s larger than life, and yet it isn’t enough. His team still loses.

It’s a punch to the gut to see Argentina celebrate.

To see Oikawa celebrate.

He supposes they were the better team: Oikawa, the better player.

He sets off to congratulate Oikawa, be the bigger person until he sees it.

His blood runs cold, and he stops dead in his tracks.

It’s you.

You’re running onto the court, one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen donning your face.

For a second, he thinks it’s directed at him until he sees your line of sight.

Oh. You’re running towards Oikawa.

You jump into his embrace, and you look...healthier.

Happier.

His heart seizes with hurt in his chest, and for the second time that evening, he feels the crushing weight of defeat because, after all this time, it’s still you.

part 1!! : part 2!!

A/N: AH THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON PARTS 1 AND 2 OF THIS SERIES!

I had originally intended for this to be a 3 part story but, I like to make Ushijima suffer.

LET ME KNOW IF YA’LL WANT PART 4:)

As always I ALWAYS enjoy feedback so please if you have any drop it in my ask box:)

Likes and Reblogs are very greatly appreciated!

VERY SPECIAL THANK YOU AGAIN TO @astrablossom AND @kzumeskenma FOR PROOFREADING!! (I Love You)

pspspspsps @roronoa-imagines ; @kenji-futakoochi ; @comically-sleep-deprived ; @janin1ushijima come get your food:)

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu angst #ushiwaka #ushiwaka x reader #ushijima #haikyuu x y/n #hq sour hour

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years

Text

@loymain When Jesse Moynihan pitched this episode, it had not been long since he’d gone through a breakup of his own. He had a very pained outlook on relationships and the desperation of love at the time, and you can tell, because this episode is a solid deconstruction on true love. He had actually tried to pitch several episodes before dealing with breakups, but he was finally able to get his big shot with this one, and IMO it’s his best attempt before season 6′s “Breezy” (maybe better - “Breezy” was so personal and beautiful but left a bad taste for a number of reasons).

Braco has convinced himself he is in love with Bubblegum, but he hasn’t even met her. He and the other suitors have wasted their entire lives waiting in line at a shot of love, not thinking about the world they’re missing out on.

Bubblegum immediately tells Braco that his perspective on love is meaningless, he is projecting onto her. She claims to feel for him the undifferentiated love she feels for all candy people. She says the pain he is feeling is due to infatuation and his overvaluing of imaginary ideals. So she decides to research him. This already says a lot about Bubblegum’s value on relationships.

Everyone who knows Bubblegum also knows she won’t date people. The candy people, Finn, they say “the princess doesn’t date”, “that road you’re on leads to nowhere”. But Braco thinks that if he continues to be persistent, he will eventually win her heart. There is a solid theme of heteronormativity in here too - The Gumball Guardians and Peppermint Butler think that they can have a guy “fix” Bonnie by dating her. That if she lets a suitor into her life it will make her better and stop locking herself up all the time. The persistent Braco puts himself through all sorts of physical pain with absolutely no regard to himself, and absolutely no respect for the feelings of the princess, all to try and win her heart, a task which if he were mature he would accept were futile. If he truly loved her, he would understand how she feels.

Then comes the rather tragic end. Braco permanently disfigures himself in an attempt to make a love spell, to remove PB’s consent about whether she will fall for him. Peebles will NEVER date him, no matter if she falls in love with him, but she does not want one of her candy people to suffer, even over something as misguided as infatuation. So she uses her robot she spent 9 weeks destroying herself over to fulfil Braco’s ideal love, a hollow “fixed” echo of herself that can be what he wants her to be, but not truly herself.

So, as Braco runs off with Pbot, the audience is left to think. Braco never loved Bubblegum, he only loved an imaginary version of her that does not exist. Bubblegum gives him that imaginary version and he loses interest in the real her immediately. This is a solid deconstruction to how people see female leads, for example Bubblegum herself, and wanted her to be Finn’s romantic partner without absolutely any regard for how she felt about him.

And because everybody was so hyperfocused on getting her a suitor, they forgot what the original issue was. Bubblegum at this point works too hard. She doesn’t focus on herself. She was becoming increasingly isolated, to the extent her own candy people were worried about her. But they didn’t know how to help her, and just made things worse with the power of heteronormativity. Like you said, Hindsight 2020 does a good job at explaining her mindset to the relationships. Bonnie had loved before, but it had ended in disaster. And that breakup interacted heavily with her pre-existing trust issues and decline. “Responsibility demands sacrifice”. “You don’t leave your heart exposed”. “I thought if I just shut everything out, then it would all be okay.” Back in the past, Marceline didn’t understand what Bonnie was going through. Marcy didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to help out. She just kind of wanted escapism. And Bonnie must’ve felt pretty betrayed, because her best friend - the only friend she was able to maintain - just ditched her and shat on her for doing what she thought was right. She coped with this by deciding that relationships simply didn’t matter and were a waste of time.

You can tell she has a lot of beef about it because she turned that shirt into a fucking bomb???? While Bonnie berates Braco for chasing feelings of infatuation, she also has a heavy value in relationships that she’s in denial about. You get that feeling in Burning Low (the best way to interpret the ending scene is her being envious Finn was able to make his relationship work with his responsibility), Sky Witch (obviously). Even at the end of The Suitor, she may have wanted to be free like Pbot, to escape like her and Braco. But she traps herself anyway.

So when the girls reconcile in Varmints, and Bonnie just... explains to Marceline, for the first time, what it was she thinks, what it was that cause her to push people away, and Marceline understands, a massive burden off her shoulders. Bubblegum reconsiders whether she was a bit too hasty to have shut love out of her life, and their interactions become much warmer, with them processing their relationship further in Stakes and deciding to take a risk.

Anyway this show is excellently written.

#adventure time #the suitor #long post

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permian-tropos · 3 years

Text

“Seismic” -- Daniil Dankovsky/Artemy Burakh fic that I just spat out

CW: angst, suicidality

I will post this on AO3 maybe like a normal person but it’s late and I’m lazy

Edit: the AO3 link if you want it there

...

Two dogs barked in warning — they knew, as they so often did, of the oncoming quake.

The plague itself was growling in the air, unyielding in its final hours, and the black soot flakes soared on suddenly stirred air currents, all aflutter with anticipation.

On the eastern side of the Guzzle crossing came running the man who could always smell blood before it was spilled, because it was by rights his to harvest.

On the south side of town the cannons on the railroad were turning and aiming, ready to belch fire.

The yargachin stood on the bridge looking into the Stone Yard, where the spear would finally be ripped from the heart of the world. There it was; that glittering silhouette in the hazy air, that crystalized twister touching down by the bend in the river.

The Polyhedron’s manic angles had never seemed so alive. She was baring herself to the world, a witch upon the pyre screaming her last wild curse, and in that moment she and the Earth were not enemies but one being, united in defiance against their coming death.

As the ground beneath his boot soles shivered, the Haruspex at last knew what the odonghs meant when they said they could sense the weight of every pair of feet on the streets of the town.

Because he felt footsteps that should not be there, crossing the Bridge Square.

Walking west, to where the sun set, the steps spoke their own rhythmic language, tolling like a warning bell: I am going to see this to the end.

The butcher’s heart gasped like it too had been pierced through. Artemy heaved in a lungful of acrid infected air and sprinted through the Atrium, past the befuddled soldiers. His bad leg hobbled and nearly sent him down to one knee, but he turned a corner and beheld:

The fog in the square cut by the silhouette of a long leather coat — and he’d even brought his trademark bag; it swung at his side.

The Bachelor looked like a man upon the lip of a train platform, impatiently clasping his luggage, awaiting his chance to travel far away —truly far — the next time an engine thundered through the station.

His upturned head spelled out plainly that his eyes were only on the tower. Transfixed upon his beloved.

Artemy staggered across the paved stones, past the row of bodies left behind by the Inquisition, and caught Daniil Dankovsky by his arm.

And swung him around with one sharp pull. The man’s eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and out from them cracked all those furrows of stress that had been pressed into the man’s face over two weeks of squinting, straining, grimacing, scowling, and perhaps, by the looks of it, weeping.

“No,” was all Artemy could gasp with the last air in his lungs, and then he had to pant and recover.

“Don’t you dare stop me!” Dankovsky cried out, thrashing and fighting the grip on his arm.

Artemy clung to the snakeskin on his sleeve with all the strength he had left. He shook the man just as vigorously as the man was struggling, until his efforts stilled. “You’re not going up there.”

“You should have killed me in the Shelter. But you didn’t, so I’m going inside one last time. Maybe, just maybe, there’ll be one more dream left, and it won’t die alone.”

“The cannons!” Artemy choked out. “I delivered the orders! They’re taking aim!”

“I know,” said the Bachelor, tongue heavy, like he wanted the words carved on his grave. His lips shuddered, and then he twisted his arm, wildness flashing in his eyes.

Artemy grabbed his shoulders before he could wrench himself free. And stared at him, trying to vivisect him with a glare. By the way the man was trembling, the Haruspex was indeed cutting deep, through his medrel, his nerves.

Dankovsky was lost to his grief, seduced at his lowest moment by the Pied Piper herself, the temptress who had spirited away the children of the Town.

And now it wanted him to lie down with it in its grave, as its eternal lover. It had called him here with the siren song, there is nothing else but me, without me you are nothing, and I need you.

“What does a man do without a dream? What does mankind do?” Dankovsky dropped his bag and clutched the front of Artemy’s smock, and from the way his fingers clawed and twitched, he was coming close to reaching up and trying to squeeze his throat. But he did not do that. He just clung.

Artemy struggled for words. “We don’t do. We just are. And that’s enough.”

Dankovsky's breath caught on a wet clog in his throat. “I can’t live like this,” he rasped. “I’ll never be free again. I never was. Now let me go. I didn’t think you’d have to see this—”

“I’d see it when they found your body in the wreck. Is that how you want to be remembered, mangled and broken?” His jaw was tight as a bear trap, ready to snap. “Is that what you want to leave behind for someone you called a friend?”

The Bachelor’s cheeks were turning ashen. “Someone I called an idiot. Get out of here, Burakh, before you’re crushed by a chunk of debris. Any moment now, they’ll fire.”

“Then move, you bastard!” Artemy yanked on his arm to pull him away, yet still he fought.

A razor-sharp Line was wound all around Dankovsky’s body, biting through his clothes into his flesh like a garrote, and it was screeching the same discordant tune as the wicked metal frame balanced precariously in the Earth’s flesh.

“It’s alive,” Dankovsky croaked. “In a way unlike anything in the universe. It’s so alive it makes the noon sun look like a shadow on the wall of a cave.”

Artemy wanted to sob, the way he had when a being shaped like his favorite childhood toy had tottered up to him on tiny hooves and plaintively asked, could it not live too? Was there not a world where it, strange form of life that it was, could be loved?

“I understand,” he said, and he did. “... I refuse to make another sacrifice. Especially not one as meaningless as this.”

“Not everything is about sacrifice!” the Bachelor spat. “My story is, quite simply, over.”

“You love that that tower so much you’d die with it? After two weeks? Barely any time!”

“Enough time to destroy a town and end thousands of lives.” A cruel grimace briefly flashed Dankovsky’s teeth, though it was covering up a flush of mortification. “You’ve known me for those same two weeks, but you’re out here in the open, waiting to be skewered on shrapnel, all over this poor waste of skin. Could it be that you’re—” he clutched a mocking hand to his breast, over his heart — “oh! just as suicidally devoted, my dearest Haruspex—!”

His words had such venom that he must have thought they would shame Artemy into letting go. A blow to his masculinity, or some such stupidity like that.

Artemy’s blood boiled, and then surged without thought. He seized Dankovsky in his arms and bent him over backwards and kissed him.

He tasted the pulse of both of their hearts as a tickle against his lips. Dankovsky flailed and helplessly threw his arms around Artemy’s shoulders, to catch his balance.

And as he did, his body shivered and his back arched into a yearning, yielding shape in Artemy’s tight grasp. Artemy’s own spine tingled from tip to tail, more urgently with every moment that Dankovsky did not pull away.

Artemy’s emboldened hand found the man’s free leg and clutched his thigh, while Dankovsky gasped through his nose and wriggled in embarrassment at the touch, but kept his mouth firmly sealed against Artemy’s.

The Cathedral bore witness; Artemy could feel it rapturously exhale a great gust of seconds into the world. The Crucible’s stately wings shivered and held their breath, scandalized. And the Polyhedron’s needle, jammed into the agonized Earth, vibrated with outrage.

He is mine, the edifice howled.

Not anymore, rumbled the Haruspex’s decree, and he planted his feet and refused to budge. His sympathy for the tower, miracle that it was, had dried up. For this eternal moment, he was the wedge forcing its way down upon those sharp threads tightly binding Daniil Dankovsky to the Polyhedron.

A great crack of gunfire split the sky and rocked the earth.

The scents of metal and blood were indistinguishable from one another, as both exploded into the air as a ruddy mist.

The seismic shudder sent Artemy down to his knees, but he didn’t let Dankovsky go; they sank together, dropping to the flagstones and unsticking their lips as their ears rang from the cacophony.

Artemy unclenched his eyelids. His heart jumped; they were both still alive, and Dankovsky had his gloved — and still very bloodstained — hand clutched over his mouth. But aside from that old gore, there was a faint spray of pink mist on the side of him that faced the river.

Fingers shaking, realizing he was staring at the cure for the Sand Pest splattered against the Bachelor’s pale skin, Artemy traced the droplets across the man’s temple. Magnificent, miraculous, chimeric blood.

“Don’t look so shocked,” he gruffly forced out, as his own mortification got the better of him. “Like I just took your innocence.” The Bachelor slowly lowered his hand from his mouth, and his dark brows dropped low and miserable, as he turned his head towards the river of blood and the jagged bones of the specular tower. “That’s exactly what you’ve done,” he whispered.

Artemy let go of Dankovsky slowly; his joints felt stuck. “Then I will bear the weight of that evil, and you will live to hold it against me.” He rose on trembling feet and pointed. “It’s over. That’s our cure, doctor.”

Dankovsky remained half-sprawled on the ground, lips forming silent words that could have been numb denials.

“It’s,” he finally said. “It’s… over.”

Artemy swallowed and took a rotten, sin-soaked step towards that beautiful red pool. He understood the hollow tones in Dankovsky’s voice. What even were they now, without the frantic running through the streets, without the smoke from signal fires stinging their eyes, without creeping to avoid the pools of light from streetlamps with a half-shattered blade in hand, without obsessive hoards of trinkets and trash filling their pockets?

The Earth’s thrashing and bellowing in pain underneath him was growing stiller, colder, fainter.

“No more of your self-pity,” Artemy finally forced out. “We have work to do. One more task. I need you, oynon.”

Behind him, by the sound of it, Dankovsky was picking himself up off the smooth stones. “You don’t need me,” he said dully. “I barely helped.”

“Spare me that bullshit. What’s left of the town is alive because of you.”

“Then. Everyone who died.”

“Stop it,” said Artemy. He didn’t turn around. “Don’t goad me right now. I won’t kiss you again, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

For an aching moment, the words caused a ripple, like a stone thrown in a pond.

“Then let’s work,” said Dankovsky, and he was quiet and bitter and resigned, but he was still there. To live in the throes of despair took courage, warm courage borne from warm blood, that still assiduously pumped inside his chest. His unthinking blood cherished the brain that struggled to love itself, and that would do for now.

#pathologic #daniil dankovsky #artemy burakh #burakhovsky #my fic #I just haven't written like an impulse fic in a while you know I just kinda had to

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tigerseye46 · 3 years

Note

The Discord server came up with angst and now I crave for more! How about some FreeNoodles with 31? (You can do regular or your au, up to you)

MWAHAHA! Ask and you shall receive. Needed an excuse to write more of this au, lol.

Manipulation, Possession

31. “Just follow my lead. You trust me, don’t you?”

———————

Pigsy, well “Pigsy” stirs a pot of noodles, a creepy grin on his face, his eyes never blinking as he did so. Tang was too immersed in his bowl of noodles to notice that, although he could tell something was a little off about the way the pig had been acting. Aside from his eyes which was just probably the lighting, he had been making weird comments lately, including giving Tang as many bowls as he wants, he’s never done that before! The only time the pig had ever given him free noodles was on a rare occasion, he wonders what put him in such a good but at the same time, he got free noodles so he wasn’t going to question it much.

He flips to a page in his book as he pushes his now empty bowl away. “Pigsy, can I have another one?”

Pigsy turns to him and passes another bowl to him. “Of course ya can, Tang!”

“Thanks. You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I have?”

“Yea, you’ve been in a good mood lately. I’ve been seeing you smile a lot more. What’s up?”

“Pigsy” opens his mouth to speak while the real Pigsy tries to use all his willpower to scream to Tang that that isn’t him but he can’t. Instead the chef comments, “Well I have ya and the kids, how can I not smile?” He purrs and lifts Tang’s chin up, Tang blushes.

“O- oh. Charm- charming…”

“Thanks, gorgeous. I try.”

“Gor- gorgeous?!”

“I’m not wrong, aren’t I?” He smirks and leans into Tang, extremely close to his lips, inside his mind he fights the urge to kiss Tang.

“I- I guess not…” He pushes the pig away slightly and nervously laughs. “Jeez, you’re really weird lately. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

“How can I be when I have ya right at my side? I’ll take ya away from that monkey and you’ll only be mine,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothin’. Ignore me and go back to what you were doin’.”

“Okay?” He eats the soup reluctantly, eyeing Pigsy who takes the time to smile and wave at him, muttering some intimate comments under his breath and it makes Tang shiver and blush slightly, he’s never known the pig to be open with his feelings, does he like him? Tang shakes that thought off, Pigsy is just being Pigsy right now, it doesn’t mean anything.

Their kid comes in shortly afterwards, wielding his staff and whistling. “Hey bába, hey papa!”

“Hey MK!” Tang says as he waves at him.

Pigsy spots their kid and rushes over to him, he gives him a big hug. “KID!”

MK giggles. “Hey papa!”

The pig nuzzles his child. “Did that stupid monkey train ya too hard?” He growls at the thought of Sun Wukong.

“No, I’m fine!”

“Good!” He continues to nuzzle his kid with Xiaotian secretly sending Tang a raised eyebrow, Tang shrugs.

The scholar gets off his stool and goes over to them. “You’re going to crush him, Pigsy,” he jokes.

“But look at him, Tang. Don’t you just want to keep him away from that stupid Monkey King?”

“What?” The two both question.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ you two need to know at the moment.” The two look at each other and decide to shrug it off. Mei comes in after that, waving her arms. “MEI!” The chef hugs her.

“Hi Piggy! Guys, there’s another demon attack! Sandy is there right now!”

MK twirls his staff. “Alright! We’re on it!”

Tang nods and Pigsy scowls. “Stupid monkey is makin’ ya handle all his dirty work, ya sure you want to do this, kid?”

MK cocks an eyebrow. “Yea… I’m sure.”

“Pigsy, MK can handle himself. Now let’s handle this demon.”

The pig scoffs. “Of course, love. I won’t let anyone touch our kids.”

“L-love?” Tang doesn’t have time to question it further as he gets dragged out.

The pig gives a scream in his mind as they go to face the demon, nothing comes out of his actual lips. The White Bone Spirit is smirking at him as she always does, she enjoys his futile resistance. He narrows his eyes and attempts to kick her but she’s too far away from him to actually do so, she giggles at his meaningless attempt.

“So much resistance, Zhu Bajie, haven’t we already decided you can’t escape me?”

“Shaddup” is his only response.

“Awwww, such a talker,” she teases. “You made it so easy to possess you. In fact, I hardly have to lift a finger.”

“I’m not doin’ any of this! This is your fault!”

“Is it? Is it really? I just pumped up your already bad qualities and you have so many.” She chuckles. “Now that I look back at it, you haven’t changed at all, so greedy, so selfish.”

He struggles against the chains. “Shaddup! You don’t know anythin’ about me!”

“I know plenty, remember? I remember how you flirted with me when I showed up, how jealous you were of the monkey.” She closes her eyes only to open one. “I also remember that monk, how foolish he was to believe you of all people.”

Pigsy growls, “Don’t you dare talk about him!” He struggles against the chains again.

The White Bone Spirit smirks and seemingly vanishes, the pig looks around and gasps as he feels a kick to his back. “You know another thing I noticed is even though you flirted with me, your eyes seemed to be on that monk. Poor you, all you wanted was his attention but how could he love you? A selfish pig, his eyes were always focused on that monkey and that’s why you did what you did.” Bajie stays silent. “No words? Pathetic.” She shapeshifts into Tripitaka and he holds back in his tears, she falls in his arms. “All you wanted to do was hold him, make him yours but he loved that monkey and who could blame him? After all, he was a much better option.”

Bajie closes his eyes and tries to block out the image. “SHUT UP! YOU AREN’T HIM! I KNOW YOU AREN’T!”

She lifts his chin up. “Bajie,” she says in a voice just like Tripitaka’s.

He opens his eyes rapidly, he knows this isn’t the real Tripitaka but he can’t help himself from falling again. “Mas- master?”

“Yes, Bajie. It is me. What are you doing, my Bajie?”

“I- I don’t know…”

“You should just give in.”

“But- but- I can’t!”

“Why not? Don’t you see how lonely I am without you? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You’re lonely without me?”

“Yes I am. All I wanted to do was for you to take me and never let me go. Why didn’t you?”

“Because I thought you loved Wukong!”

“No, how could I love him? He was the one who kept us apart from each other. He made sure we were never a couple, maybe I should have used the circlet on his head so we could run away together.” He smooches the pig’s cheek, the demon lets out a purr.

“Ya want to run away with me?”

“Of course I do. Now I am in Heaven without you, you left me.”

“I- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to,” he stutters.

“But you did. Now think about it, you could use all this power you got to rescue me.”

“Rescue you?”

“Yes, rescue me.” He smooches Bajie’s cheek again and tickles his chin. “I am trapped in stupid Heaven, I need you to rescue me then we can get married and live with your kids happy and safe, away from Wukong.”

“Our kids,” he replies. “They would be our kids. Ya really want to marry me?”

“Yes, our kids. Of course I do. We would do all sorts of fun things together. We could even bring that scholar you like so much.”

“Ummm… ummm…”

“Don’t worry. You could have us both.”

“H-huh?”

An image of Tang appears and he approaches them both. “He’s right, you know.”

“Tang?!”

“Tang” runs a hand over Pigsy’s face. “You could have us both,” he repeats.

Pigsy swallows and nods. “I could have ya both.”

The two seem satisfied and kiss him. Tripitaka states, “All you have to do is use your new power to get rid of Wukong and grab our kids then we can be happy.”

“Okay,” he says simply. “I’ll- I’ll handle him.”

Tang cheered, “See, that wasn’t so hard now.”

“Uh huh... Gods, you’re both so beautiful.” They smile and give him the affection he so desperately craves, he doesn’t notice how the chains on his wrist get tighter as he gives into his desire, happy tears roll down his face.

He opens his eyes and blinks out of haze. He stares at the direction in front of him, it shows the battle the kids are currently in, it’s like he’s looking at it through a tv. He sees Tang in the battle with the kids, but isn’t Tang with him? Then it hits him, this isn’t real and he’s been tricked yet again.

He lets out a wail then the fake Tang disappears. He stomps his feet, rage burning in him. He narrows his eyes at “Tripitaka” and the White Bone Spirit goes back to her original form. She smirks at him. “You are really easy to manipulate. Aren’t you, darling?”

He screeches, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”

“No, I don’t think I will.” She cackles and vanishes.

He turns his attention back to the battle. He pulls at the chains, he bites them, he does anything he thinks that can get him free. He screeches, he howls, he’s desperate but nothing works and he watches as his possessed body watches gleefully on the sidelines. He can do nothing to help his kids.

In the real world, Tang tries to help his kids and Sandy fight off the demon but they are struggling. He glances at Pigsy who is smirking for some reason, the pig hasn’t been doing much to help. As Xiaotian hits the demon, Tang rushes over to Pigsy.

“Pigsy! We could use your help!”

“Why, Tang?”

“Because we’re kinda getting destroyed out there!”

“But ya look so gorgeous fightin’ like that.”

“What? Are you joking? This is serious!”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’m just lettin’ the kids have some fun first.” He shuts his eyes. “Now.” He opens them and his currently icy blue eyes glow along with his body. “This should be easy.”

Tang takes a step back. “What are you doing?”

“Just follow my lead. You trust me, don’t you?”

For some reason, Tang’s gut instinct makes him want to say no but why would he say no? This is Pigsy, he might have been acting weird but Tang has no reason to distrust him. Pigsy is their protector and whatever plan he has has got to work. “Yes, I trust you.”

Pigsy smiles and it sends shivers up the Buddhist’s spine. “Kids!” He calls. The kids look at him. “Stay back and let your father handle this. Stay behind Tang and Sandy.” The kids nod and get behind Tang, Sandy going next to them to protect them. The pig stomps to the large demon.

Tang reaches a hand out to him to stop him. “What- what are you doing?”

The pig sends him a reassuring look. The large demon they’ve been facing laughs at him. “What are you going to do, little pig?” They continue laughing.

Pigsy smirks. “Oh I’ll show you.” He puts his hand up and ice shoots out from his fingertips, he freezes the demon’s feet first, the demon tries to break free but Pigsy freezes the rest of them, a gleeful look on his face. He turns back to the group who have their eyes widened. “There, all taken care of.”

Tang goes “How- how did you do that?”

“Oh Y’know magic and such.”

Xiaotian approaches his papa, his eyes now sparkling. “Wow, papa! I’ve never seen you do that before! Can you teach me to do that?!”

Xiajiao asks, “Me too, please!”

Sandy keeps his mouth shut, a billion questions racing through his mind. The pig simply laughs. “Sorry, kids. It’s a special power only I can master.” The kids whine in disappointment. “Don’t worry. Ya two are plenty strong already. Now let’s go back to the shop.”

The scholar raises an eyebrow. “How come this is the first time we’re seeing it? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

The pig lifts his chin up. “Because doll, it was meant to be a secret but you’re so cute that I had to show ya. Did I impress ya?” He winks.

The scholar mutters, “Oh you definitely did something alright.”

Pigsy beams and plants a kiss on his cheek. “Now come on, let’s go home.” The kids nod and he walks to the shop, the two following behind him.

Only Sandy and Tang are left. Sandy mumbles, “In all the years that I’ve known him, he’s never done that.”

“Really? He’s never done that?”

Sandy shakes his head. “No, never.”

“That’s- that’s weird.”

“Yea… I feel like something is up with him lately.”

“Me too. Maybe we should keep an eye on him.” Sandy nods.

Pigsy shouts to them. “Hey, you two! Come on!”

They nod and walk with the rest of the group, Pigsy wraps an arm around Tang’s waist, the scholar blushes at the contact but eyes him suspiciously as they make their way to the shop. He has no idea why the pig is acting so weird but he should be mostly fine, right? Tang prays there is no reason to worry.

Meanwhile, the real Pigsy continues to try and break the chains, rage boiling and he screams but no one can hear him.

31 notes · View notes

thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

✿ masterlist ✿

(updated 7/31/21)

all previously answered prompt requests for both Steve or Robin can be found here!

series/multipart

Kill the Lights (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Lab Survivor!OC (Violet)

Summary: After Violet- formally 003, a telekinetic, electrokinetic, and clairvoyant 19 year old- loses her first family, her first love, nothing is the same. She finds herself taken in by Hopper and El, struggling to find her footing and meaning to keep fighting. The Party, especially Steve Harrington, try to show her where her strengths have been hiding all alone, and that no one has to fight their battles alone. Sometimes you don’t need to be rescued, but someone’s love and support while you rescue yourself sure doesn’t hurt.

Hard to Kill (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Assassin!OC (Sofia)

Summary: Two years have passed since the battle of Starcourt, and Steve’s paranoia is destroying him. Turns out, he was right to anticipate someone was still after him, but he never anticipated an unlikely bond to appear between him and the Russian assassin out for his blood. Typical enemies to lovers.

Sweet Spot - 1, 2 & 3

Steve Harrington x Cam Girl!OC (Lex)

Summary: modern AU where Robin tells Steve about cam girls, and he falls hard for a stranger on the internet. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve written yet, sorry, not sorry. Smut, obviously. But it’s cute, too.

Feral Love (completed!)

Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You come from a long line of witches in dark magic. You’ve never felt like you belonged, always feeling like you’d rather do good than evil with your magic. Another escape attempt leads your life’s path overlapping with Steve Harrington’s life, and things take a turn darker than you’d ever imagine.

Within the FL universe:

You Are Where I Belong

Steve Harrington x Witch!Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: A little glimpse into the life you’ve built in Hawkins, side by side with your soulmate, Steve, as the two of you get ready to celebrate Halloween. (Continuation of Feral Love, it’ll make more sense if you’ve read the series, however it should be fine to read on its own!)

Friday, I’m in Love - 1, 2, 3 (completed!)

Robin Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: Finally nearing the end of your eventful lives, you and Robin meet, whether by fate or coincidence, and the rest is virtual history. A San Junipero AU!

Beautiful Stranger / Cosmic Love / Gonna Keep This Love

(completed!)

Robin Buckley x Witch!OC (Olive Lane)

Summary: Olive Lane, a witch in training, leaves home and relocates to an unfamiliar town, a tradition among witches her age to start fresh. Blissfully unaware of the bizarre and gruesome history Hawkins, Indiana holds, she settles on the small town, and seemingly blends in to her surroundings to its citizens. Everyone, except Robin, who is highly bothered and paranoid by the new, mysterious stranger, and needs to know who and what this girl is all about.

—————————

one shots

Like Vines, We Intertwined

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: It started with an exchange of friendship bracelets, meant to last as long as the bond between you two: forever. Life has a finicky way of defining “forever”, though.

So, You Like Movies?

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You’re a horror movie buff with a love for special effects makeup, and Steve is deep in a crush over you, despite him disliking horror movies. Maybe something can work out.

Taking My Time, Let The World Turn

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve never expected to survive past 1985, yet life continued to surprise him, and for the better. Dad!Steve !!!

Wild Thing

Steve Harrington x OC (Rosie)

Summary: A meet ugly “I broke your nose in a mosh pit” AU

Take Care Of Yourself

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: you’ve been through enough shit to believe self care is building your walls high and keeping everyone out. The Universe has no problem challenging that, though. (The flower shop/soulmate AU nobody asked for.)

They/Them/Theirs

Steve Harrington x Non-Binary!Reader

Summary: Reader knows there’s something different with them, just can’t put a word on it. That’s not the only secret floating between them and Steve, though. Best friend to lovers nonsense (with NB representation!!)

All of You

Steve Harrington x Non-binary!Reader

Summary: just some cute comforting fluff about reader wanting to explore their gender expression and Steve being a supportive partner!! (follow up to they/them/theirs!)

Nowhere Feels Like Somewhere When I’m In Your Arms

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: The fluffy naptime comfort fic that nobody asked for and then evolved into a long, emotional fic with a self indulgent ending. Oops.

Bad Behavior

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The air conditioner finally breaks in the apartment you and Steve share, and it’s not just toying with the temperature. (AKA: “oH My GoD tHey WeRe RoOmMaTes !!!!11” nonsense and a whole lotta smut. Don’t like it, don’t read thx.)

Check Me-owt

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: you work at the new cafe in town, and Steve’s dying to talk to you, but there’s one thing holding him back from that: it’s a cat cafe, and he’s a nervous mess around cats. (AKA: the modern day coffee shop AU that nobody asked for)

Playin’ Hide and Seek With the Light

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You’re coping with your demons in dangerous ways, but you’re coping. It’s something. You believed no one noticed until Steve confronts you. (AKA: another comfort fic nobody asked for)

Smarter Than You Think

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Since the battle of Starcourt, Steve hasn’t been sleeping well, and when he does sleep, it’s just reoccuring nightmares of the traumatic night. Until one night, it changes completely, and suddenly he’s not reliving his personal hell, he’s reliving someone else’s. (AKA: another darker twist on a soulmate AU that nobody asked for)

Made To Brave The Pain

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: The monsters in your life have been human, forcing you into a quiet, isolated world, disconnected from reality to keep yourself safe. What happens when you discover not all monsters are human, though? What do you do when the path of your trauma crosses paths with someone else’s? (AKA: a super trauma comfort fic, bc I’m working out my own shit through writing lol.)

I Wanna Get Better

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: your mental and physical health issues are a struggle enough the way it is, and you never imagined locking down for safety in your own apartment would make it all worse. thankfully, your’re not in quarantine alone, and ride it out with your roommate/best friend, Steve Harrington. (AKA: self indulgent quarantine comfort fic that absolutely nobody asked for. modern!AU, obviously.)

Lonely For Her

Robin Buckley x Female Henderson!OC (Jade Henderson)

Summary: Robin and Jade hate each other, and can’t put aside their differences, even during the events at Starcourt while their lives are on the line. Murray is sick of their shit, and finally calls them out. Enemies to lovers nonsense

Flowers in the Concrete

Robin Buckley x Female Reader

Summary: feelings are stupid, quitting smoking is stupid, put the two into the same room, and you’ve got emotion overload, baby!! (Or: reader is hopelessly head over heels for her best friend, and can’t find a way to go about it gracefully.) Best friends to lovers nonsense.

Happy Little Accidents

Robin Buckley x Hazel (OC) x Steve Harrington

Summary: Hazel’s got it bad for not one best friend, but both of them. Avoiding both Steve and Robin until it goes away should work, right? … Right?? (the weird, emotional, fluffy poly one nobody asked for (strictly platonic between Steve & Robin, ofc.))

—————————————

+18 AO3 links

The Detour

Kurt Kunkle (Spree) x AFAB Reader

Summary: After meeting Kurt just days before he kicks off “The Lesson”, you run into him again, and try distracting him from the original plan.

Warnings/Tags: abduction, knife play, breath play, anal play, dirty talk, humiliation, light bondage, oral sex, teasing, spanking, mentions of murder, movie spoilers

The Brat

Sub!Steve x Dom(me)!Reader

Summary: You give Steve orders not to touch himself for a week, but what fun would that even be without disobeying you?

Warnings/Tags: PWP, Brat!Steve, Sub!Steve, Dom(me)!Reader, BDSM, bondage and discipline, femdom, oral sex, anal play, teasing, humiliation, dirty talk, spanking, vaginal sex, anal sex, aftercare

The Bitter and the Sweet

Vampire!Steve x Reader

Summary: Going home with someone after parties isn’t foreign to you, but going home with an attractive vampire sure is.

Warnings/Tags: PWP, porn with feelings, BDSM, dom/sub, bondage and discipline, rough sex, oral sex, wax play, spanking, sex toys, pain play, dirty talk, biting, vampires, vampire sex, vampire!Steve, aftercare, modern AU

After Hours

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: The truth between you and Steve finally comes out, about your feelings for one another... and the way he likes being called ‘daddy’.

Warnings/Tags: PWP, dirty talk, daddy kink, friends to lovers, vaginal fingering, gratuitous use of ‘baby girl’, cunnilingus

Sugary Sweet

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: Steve reminisces on his horrid Scoops Ahoy! uniform, no matter how much you insist it was cute on him. To convince him, you follow through on a dirty, filthy thought.

Warnings/Tags: latex fetish, daddy kink, spit kink, food play, heavy petting, dirty talk, light dom/sub, punishment, wet & messy

Sudden Desire

Steve Harrington x AFAB Reader

Summary: You’re convinced sex is meaningless when every partner you’ve been with can never make you finish. Your best friend, Steve Harrington, is up to the challenge of changing that.

Warnings/Tags: fluff and smut, friends to lovers, best friends, friends with benefits, bff banter throughout, gratuitous use of sweetheart, vaginal sex, oral sex, no use of y/n, light dirty talk

#my fics #am i missing any i dont think so?#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x oc #stranger things x oc #stranger things x reader #idk what else to tag this with???? OH #masterlist #duh lmfao okay i hope the links work this time good GOD #updated 7/15!!

327 notes · View notes

greekbros · 3 years

Text

"greek-Bros: What likely should have happened"

*literally seconds before the gods declare war on humanity*

Zeus: THE MORTALS ARE TESTING MY PATIENCE!

Apollo: Please father don't do anything, mortals aren't very smart to begin and you DID create them.

Zeus: IT DOES NOT MATTER! THEYVE INSULTED ME THUS THE REST OF OLYMPUS!

Athena: We can reach out to them and resolve this civilly. We have no reason to destroy them....at least not now.

Ares: *with a leg of mutton in mouth* I say fuck up dad. Mortals suck anyway.

Apollo: Ares what did Hera tell you about food in your mouth?

Ares: *mouth full* ....chew several times before swallowing?

Apollo: *face palms*

Hermes: Now now, it's not that bad dad, so what the mortals are questioning our methods, I think we should take it as "constructive criticism".

Persephone: Yes, we should be kind and understanding to them. Surly you have to find in your heart to forgive them of their meaningless discretions.

*in Argos, some mad-lass named Queen Cassiopeia decided to open her gob*

Cassiopeia: MY daughter is the fairest in the whole world! She's the most beautiful girl in the land and-

Andromeda: Mother please don't.

Cassiopeia: SHES PRETTIER THAN APHRODITE.

*back on olympus*

Aphrodite: *her thot senses are tingling* excuse me for one second. (◕ᴗ◕✿) *poofs into a puff of pink and bubbles*

Apollo: *older brother senses are tingling* oh no.

*Argos*

Andromeda: *has her face in hands* mother oh my gods why would you say that, it's embarrassing and untrue.

Cassiopeia: Oh honey please, it's not like as if Aphrodite is going to come here and do anything about that.

Aphrodite: *pops into thin air* Hello, are you Cassiopeia?

Cassiopeia: *shocked and horrified*...yes.

Aphrodite: Oh goodie! *takes Cassiopeia by the collar and repeatedly pimp slaps Cassiopeia* YOU *slap* SHOULD *slap* HAVE *slap* TAKEN *slaps* YOUR *slaps* DAUGHTER'S *slaps* ADVISE! *slaps and puts her down on the floor* *fixes her hair* Now then... I'm going to leave, let's all get over what has just happened....so....Goodbye everyone and remember....I'm watching you ALL. (ʘᴗʘ✿) *Poofs out*

Andromeda:.....*walks up to Cassiopeia* ....mother are you ok?

Cassiopeia: *still shaken up by the fact she was just assulted by a goddesses in a rather mondaine manner*

*back in olympus*

Aphrodite: Okie dokie, I resolved everything (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

Zeus: ? You did?

Aphrodite: Yes, I guaranteed they're going to be worshiping you a lot more now.

Apollo: ..... APHRODITE.... What did you do?

Aphrodite: *goes to apollo's mouth to shush him* ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh not another word ~

Apollo: .....

Ares: *leans forward to aphrodite* ..........can I get the shush treatment babe?

Aphrodite: *does the same thing to Ares but with a little kiss on his cheek*

Ares: yey.

Apollo: *muffled by her finger* idiot.

Zeus: ....I'm getting too damn old for this shit.

#greek bros #greek gods #greek myth memes #greek mythology #Zeus #aphrodite #ares #apollo #clash of the titans #blood of zeus #hellenistic

24 notes · View notes

lukneetoonz · 4 years

Text

Ghost of You Part II

——————————————————————————-

Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, angst, violence, and just very sad.

Word Count: 2,518

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for this, tbh didn’t mean for another cliffhanger but it was too good! Thank you anon for the inspiration for this one. Def will have a part three and I’m hoping that will be the end.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

——————————————————————

Running. That’s all you remember doing and that’s all you were doing currently. Panting, you focused on the world in front of you as tears poured down your cheeks. Out of all places he could be, Bakugou Katsuki was where you went so you could forget about him. Not to mention he was looking like you were the one who broke his heart, not the other way around. You wanted forever, he wanted a fling. He took your heart and tossed it in the trash, yet the first thing you wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was gonna be okay.

“Y/N!! Please!” Katsuki’s raspy voice called out and you could hear his footsteps get closer to you, making you only run faster as you tried to make as much distance between the two of you that you could, if you got near him you knew you wouldn’t have much self control… no matter how much hurt he caused. Even if he stomped on your heart, he still had it. He still had your love, and that’s why you were still in pain.

“Princess! Please! Give me just 5 minutes! That’s all I need to explain!” Explain? That one word made you stop as you went tense and turned around, body shaking as you stared the blonde down. “Explain? How could you possibly ‘explain’ anything? It’s what it is K- Bakugou!” The fact that you weren’t even saying his name hurt, it was like a knife driven through his heart as he finally slowed down to be in front of you, only to have you back away like he had a disease.

“That’s not- please… I fucked up okay? But I love you! Only you! It was a mistake, and- without you I’m nothing.” His voice was weak as he gulped, clenching his fist and looking at you, trying to see how you reacted but couldn’t tell. Your own body shook with heartbreaking sobs as you looked away, lip trembling. “Love me… that word means something! You can’t throw it around when you want because you’re a douchebag! If you love someone, you wouldn’t have cheated on me, with camie out of all people!!”

Your words made him flinch as you cried out, each word hitting at a different level. Katsuki bowed his head in shame, suddenly feeling very aware of where you both were and the circumstances of you meeting again were. Groaning, he looked up at you with pain filled eyes as he tried to reach out to you, but you were quick to rip away from his touch, the touch that used to bring you comfort. “Y/N… please. Please” Dropping to his knees, the man that was supposed to be one of the strongest hero’s latched onto your bottom half like a child clinging to his mother.

His tears soaked through the fabric on your stomach, the whimpers leaving his mouth made you cry harder. “Please give me another chance. I know I don’t deserve you, but please- fuck… I- I can’t live without you. It hurts to even breathe without you.” Every word he said was the truth as he pleaded to you in the middle of a sidewalk in the night, the only thing illuminating you was the street lights. As you clasped your hand over your mouth, you gasped for air. “I-I can’t… it hurt so much… you hurt me so much.” Your broken words made Bakugou tense as he sucked in breath, nuzzling his head into your stomach more.

“Please… please. I love you so much… please. I’ll do anything Y/N. Anything at all. Please just take me back.” As much as you wanted to, as much as his words cut you to the core, you pried his arms off you and backed away. Shaking your head, you whimpered and took in his state, this could be the last time you ever saw him. Just the thought killed you, turning away you walked off and didn’t stop until you reached your place, without anyone to go home to, it felt so empty. As soon as you entered the door you fell down to your knees and completely broke down, tears not stopping until you fell asleep.

*•*

2 weeks. 14 days. Yet, you still couldn’t get the image of the love of your life and your best friend getting down and dirty, out of your head. How could either of them do that to you? Bakugou was supposed to be your forever, Camie knew how much you loved him and yet she still wrapped herself around him like she was the one who had been with him for so long. If you knew she liked him, you would never have dated him! You would have stepped away and let her have him, saved your heart this pain. Why did she wait to do this to you? You couldn’t remember even doing something bad to her so she’d want to get revenge.

“Y/N! Let’s go apartment hunting today okay? You deserve to go out and get fresh air…” Uraraka came and rubbed your back as you sniffled, you turned to face her and your lip trembled. “Why did they do it? I thought he loved me..” Uraraka frowned sadly, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t know… you don’t deserve this pain Y/N… I think apartment hunting can help take your mind off of this, and then we can go out to eat.” You nodded and got up, hugging Uraraka back before getting changed. Looking into the mirror, you saw how puffy your eyes were, cheeks and nose red. Shivering, you frowned at your appearance and groaned, “Let’s go before I regret going out”

Uraraka nodded and quickly pulled you out, and you guys started walking to the apartments you saw for rent. The weather was beautiful, the sun shining down on you as the breeze was gentle. It was like a reminder that there are still beautiful things out in the world, and you started to believe it. After the third apartment, you and Uraraka decided to go get some food since your stomachs begged for it. Walking down the golden lot sidewalk, you laughed at Uraraka dancing weirdly before a hand was placed on your shoulder timidly, making you turn around.

“Y/N… can we please talk?” Emotions crashed through you as you stared at Camie, she looked just as bad as you. Her eyes met the ground as she started to cry again, hands playing with each other as she sniffled, “I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t have an excuse or explanation, but I just- please can we talk?” It was something about how she said she didn’t have an excuse or explanation, that’s what caught your attention. Nodding silently, you gave Uraraka a reassuring look before leading Camie to a bench and sitting down.

“Go ahead Camie… talk.” Quickly she nodded and sat by you, but not too close as she gulped, “I’m a bitch okay? I don’t deserve your friendship and- I just… l was alone, and it didn’t help that I liked him when we were younger… I know I never told you, but I fell head over heels for him- so one night at the office, we were working late and I don’t even know who thought of the idea to open up some alcohol and then, I came onto him-” you interrupted her rambling as you stared ahead blankly, “How long?”

The simple question sent shivers down the girls spine as she looked away, even parler than before, “2 months…” Did it hurt more knowing? Or less? You couldn’t tell, but all you knew was the tears were building up and you could barely do anything to stop them. “For 2 months You fucked my boyfriend and pretended that everything was okay? You listened to me say how I thought he was pulling away, you listened to my relationship troubles. Yet you still spread your legs for him like the whore you are!” By the time you ended, you stood up screaming.

Red in the face, with hot, angry tears running down your face you stared at the ashamed girl. “Was It worth it Camie? Getting dick, but you ruin a relationship and your own damn friendship?! Was it worth destroying me?!” Your voice strained in frustration as she cried and shook her head, “No! Y/N! I was stupid! And selfish! I wasn’t thinking and- god I thought If it kept going it would've been better than a meaningless one night stand-” once again you had fury in your eyes “DID YOU FALL FOR HIM AGAIN?”

Camie looked away embarrassed as she clenched her jaw, “I- I want to say no… I want to say I didn't so badly… but I can’t.” You nodded and looked away, wiping your eyes, at least appreciating her honesty. “Did he- return the feelings?” Automatically her eyes widened in horror and she shook her head, “No! God no… I- it was always me texting and calling first… the day you- well you know, I saw an engagement ring in his desk drawer, that’s why I was in there.” It’s like your heart stopped working altogether as you tried gathering your breath, eyeing the girl down.

“Y-you tried stopping it?” Camie nodded with a sigh as she rubbed her face, “I’m sorry Y/N…. I really am.” Sniffling you started walking back to Uraraka, “Yeah… I am too. But hey, you got what you wanted right? He’s all yours”

*•*

You didn’t think seeing Katsuki would hurt so much, it’s like breaking up all over again. Of course it didn’t help that he tried contacting you through your mutual friends, but that only resulted in multiple people being threatened with a block. When you moved into your new apartment, you gathered everyone and made it very clear that Katsuki and Camie should never know where you live, no matter what. You weren’t going to chance one of them showing up at your apartment one day to try and say one of their half assed apologies… not again.

You transferred jobs, banks, everything. You practically started a new life, because the scar of your past one was too big. The news that was filled with the pictures of the beautiful ash blonde made you believe he had moved on, made you think he was okay. But you were wrong, and oh how you wish you didn’t assume things so silly. Katsuki was fighting crime like he was born to do, and from the news he was doing better than he has ever before.

But oh how little did you know. Katsuki was only working so hard because he wanted to get you out of his head, maybe if he worked hard enough you’ll even see he’s changed. That he’s better. Sadly for him he couldn’t get you out of his head, but luckily he’s only had to deal with easy villains so nothing he’s had to do than blink an eye. Until today. Katsuki had barely gotten any sleep since he last saw you, but he still worked, hell he worked double the amount of hours even if his body was screaming for rest. It took such a toll on him, even his friends started to notice.

“Bakugou… are you sure you should be working? You look like- well you look like shit bro.” Kirishima scratched the back of his neck only to sigh when he saw the glare directed at him, “It’s not your problem shitty hair. So what if I’m taking extra hours? I just want to group up my vacation days together.” Katsuki grunted out a lie that not even Kirishima believed, but the redhead knew he had to go along with it so he nodded. “Okay… but I'm here for you, that’s what friends are for.”

Katsuki couldn’t even reply before there was a loud explosion and screaming that followed, the heroes running onto the scene. Kirishima paled before activating his quirk when he noticed this was your new place of work. A group of villains spread out, two had taken hostages inside the building that was in flames, one of the villains seemed to have a quirk where his tattoos came to life, another looked like a feral child, one seemed to be breathing green like poison that was covering the streets and making civilians pass out, one of the ones in the building could make anything out of any non living object he wanted, like it was Plato so he had weapons, and the female had a the mutation quirk to make her look somewhat of a spider.

Fuck fuck fuck, they were outnumbered and these quirks- they were pretty fucking good. Katsuki snarled and started fighting, trying to keep them busy as they waited for backup. Kirishima fought alongside Katsuki, knowing you were here but he didn’t know what to say, how could he say something!? If he did, surely his best friend would do something stupid and reckless… that’s the last thing he wanted, because if Katsuki got hurt then you’d probably get hurt too.

Inside you stayed calm as the female crawled around you and your colleagues, her sadistic smile stayed as she wrapped another person In her webbing, “Awh c'mon my little babies, don’t be sad! I’ll be nice if you tell me where the hard drive is. The heroes trust you, so we know you have their personal information, if you give us their hard drive, then it will be fine.” You tensed at their words before standing up with shaky legs, “I can do you one better- I’m the girlfriend Of ground zero. A-and I’m best friends with all of his friends like red riot, pinky, uravity, chargebolt, you name it… but If you take me then you’ll get the heroes.”

Your words made the girl look at the man almost like they were sharing thoughts, before the girl smirked and in seconds she was by your side, biting your shoulder and you could feel poison being released into your shoulder. Crying out in pain, you fell to your knees as they mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear as you fell to the ground, whimpering at the pain in your shoulder that spread through your entire body. The last thing you remember before your world faded into total darkness was your name being called and a familiar silhouette running towards you.

*****************************************************

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu

#mha fanfiction #mha imagines #katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #bakugouimaginedarlingely #shonan bakusozoku #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou fluff #bakugou icons

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morsking · 4 years

Text

i need to........ think about how gilgamesh and goetia had two different views and motivations regarding their plan to destroy humanity since while they may seem identical and almost cliché there is enough nuance to distinguish how they felt about what they were doing and about how they justified it.

gilgamesh believed that humanity had stagnated to an unforgivable degree and therefore could leave nothing of worth behind so it needed to be rolled back into a point where every action a person would take would be a decision done in the name of survival and contributing to the rebuilding of the human race so nothing you could do would be pointless and if it was then you would simply perish proving yourself unworthy of participating in the growth of civilization. to gilgamesh being pushed to the utmost limit and achieving something out of that struggle is how a “treasure” is created which means gilgamesh sees himself not only owning unique objects but also owning people and their dreams and it’s that ownership of things that are so incomparably precious to even one another that places him as the king among all kings judging and overseeing the actions and the path humanity takes to contribute to its growth.

it doesn’t matter to gilgamesh whether that growth is beautiful or wretched so long as it means something and it’s a finality that came about people struggling to the bitter end. it’s not about a result being good or bad, it’s about whether or not a result can be given value meaning (echoing romani’s words). it can be a glorious or tragic, inspiring or grotesque, it can even be a pointless hilarious mockery of a farce done in terrible taste so long as it can provide closure and justification for all the suffering accumulated throughout the journey. gilgamesh accepts an end will come to all things which is why he’s not bothered by the idea of mankind going extinct in its weakness because that is meaningful in the sense only he can witness the complete, greater-scope picture of humanity and place it within his treasury as a story incapable of being replicated or understood by anything except him. it’s an incredibly twisted and cruel selfishness but it’s one that exists with the sole purpose of wanting to appreciate the toil of creation and its destruction. that mirrors the way gilgamesh was only able to appreciate mortality after having witnessed enkidu’s death and having the herb of immortality stolen right from under him. the end isn’t something to stave off in desperation, it’s something to be accepted and anticipated so something can be left behind to justify the brevity of all things. it’s in that sense that gilgamesh is the king of heroes, he left behind so many things that could be traced back to him to the point where his presence echoes in every action of growth and evolution throughout history because those things are proof he succeeded in propagating his rule and his philosophy. his philosophy can be challenged and even rejected and discarded, but there’s no denying that it was acknowledged and it contributed to humanity moving forward by deciding to NOT follow in the footsteps of his cruelty and tyranny.

you contrast that with goetia who watched people struggle and could not understand what could possibly come about all that death and misery and therefore regarded a pitiful mankind as a worthless and violent existence that could not be saved and therefore needed to be replaced with an ideal version of it that doesn’t fight, struggle, or suffer. so long as it could live peacefully it didn’t matter whether it was meaningless to never grow or change because goetia as an inhuman creature could not understand things “meaning” something. gilgamesh notes that with this method nothing is saved because you’re rejecting history and the struggles of everyone who was denied growth rather than redeeming that suffering by helping mankind as it exists now learn and choose a better path.

goetia is a permanent, reforming entity that can only “be” by imitating others and therefore never learned the joy of being an individual person connecting to the greater humanity and leaving a piece of himself behind until the events of solomon where he had humanity beaten into him. there were no more demon god pillars, no more powerful magic, not even immortality to save him. all he had was himself and the dream he had worked so hard to achieve for 2000 years and the conviction to see it through no matter what because it’s what he believed in no matter how wrong and naive he was because his conception of humanity’s happiness mattered to him.

he became the king of men not because he was a pinnacle of human achievement but because he embodied that all too human quality of wanting to assert the proof of your existence and the existence of others regardless of how ephemeral and tenuous it is and enjoy doing it. goetia was having fun fighting you because it was him giving it his all to keep his pride and have you witness his fight even if it meant losing because (and this is a very big important fatecore message going back to ubw) there is no shame in losing at the very end of things! losing in itself is a valid, meaningful conclusion to a struggle because something can and will come out of it. what came out of losing was goetia finally understanding what it is to keep fighting for your existence until nothing else is left of you to give to that fight. because all that fighting is how you can become your best self and if you lose someone will take that tragedy loss and turn it into further strength to keep on going and make sure it’s remembered and blessed by the hard work to keep growing and changing and improving the world at large. it’s what everyone owes to the losers of human history and everyone else. that moment where you and mash can see the blue sky above chaldea could only be reached because of all the things that happened throughout part 1, and it’s that bright, intimate, happy moment belonging only to you and her (much like heaven’s feel’s true ending!) that makes all that struggle worth it.

#long post #early fgo interludes can be short but they can still be really good #homecooked meta

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germanreich · 3 years

Text

Guren guren guren

Title: In the Absence of the Demon

Disclaimer: This is a fan-made translation from Chinese translations! Please go easy and enlighten us on any mistakes or deviations from the original light novel. All credit goes to the original author and illustrators. - Hyaka and Kuro Shion

——————————————————————————————

‘This is Ichinose Guren-sama.’

This was heard in one of the classroom of First Shibuya High School.

Until recently, everyone here should have been an enemy.

What greeted them originally was only scolding, ignoring and a cola bottle thrown from goodness knows where –

Opening the classroom door, there were a few students whispering in the corridor.

‘I heard he was selected as Kureto-sama’s direct subordinate.’

‘They say he was hiding his real strength, but was found out by Kureto-sama.’

‘He’s on good terms with Shinya-sama too, and his strength has even been acknowledged by those two from the Mito family and Goshi family.’

‘So which idiot said he was a rat from a bad family?!’

‘You said it yourself.’

‘No way! Stop joking!’

Guren himself, however, was ignoring those upsetting conversations. He sat at his desk, supporting his face with his hand and daydreaming. Evidently, he was lacking in sleep.

Overnight, he had been in the backseat of a car on the Tomei Expressway, bound for Tokyo via Aichi at 150 km per hour. During that time, his mind was fixated on what might happen in the future, and so he was unable to have a good sleep.

‘……’

Guren squinted his eyes, half-asleep, and gazed out the window.

Although it could not be felt in this classroom with its excellent air-conditioning, outside it was so hot that the scenery seemed to be enveloped in a heat haze.

Today was the 20th of August.

For normal schools, it would be summer vacation, but in this school there were no such holidays.

According to the news, the temperature these few days had set a new high. Why was it so hot? If the heat persisted, it might lead to stored food going bad, but since the world was going to end this Christmas anyway, to worry about food going bad would be utterly meaningless.

‘…… Guren. Guren!’

Someone called his name.

But Guren did not notice and continued to look out the window.

The owner of the voice grew angry and forcefully rapped the table.

‘Hey, Ichinose Guren! Why are you ignoring my questions?’

Impatiently, Guren glanced towards the source of the noise. There stood a girl from his class.

Her most noticeable characteristics were her bright red hair, strong gaze and pale white skin.

This was the daughter of the prestigious Jujo family – Jujo Mito.

She continued to speak.

‘Every day, you don’t train and you always have this dazed, dumb attitude…… has the fame from being noticed by Kureto-sama made you so arrogant?’

‘…… Who’s arrogant?’

Guren countered, and Mito angrily replied.

‘I’m talking about you! Ichinose Guren. In class you act as there is no one around you, during physical education and spells class you don’t use your true strength. What on earth do you want!?’

Faced with these questions, Guren was troubled over how to answer. In the first place, the content covered in class here were already below his intellectual level. There was simply nothing worth learning.

However, everyone here was his enemy, so there was no need to let all his enemies see his true strength.

And so, every day, Guren acted lazy and pretended to be a half wit – but even if he explained all this she would definitely still not understand.

In the Hiiragi family, to have value or to be famous – in the eyes of the people here, this was something to be celebrated.

Hence, for Guren to become arrogant or proud was not surprising, for this was something that was worth feeling proud over.

So was it better to act out that happiness? However, be it his terrible attitude or hidden true strength, both had already been seen through by Kureto, so was it still necessary to hide everything to such a degree?

In the midst of pondering all these, unexpectedly –

‘……Uwah~’

A yawn leaked out of his mouth.

This angered Mito even more.

‘What kind of attitude is that?’

‘Your yelling is making my ears hurt.’

‘First of all, just now during physical training, I saw that you lost to a classmate in an instant…… How can this be? Your strength shouldn’t be so low!’

Guren shrugged.

‘No, I really do only have that much strength.’

She grew even more furious.

‘And that is exactly the kind of attitude that gives others a headache!’

‘Headache? Why? You have no reason to have a headache.’

Mito spoke intensely.

‘Of course I do! If you laze about, those from prestigious families who hang out with you will also be laughed at and shamed, haven’t you noticed?’

No wonder she was so angry.

In other words, being Kureto’s subordinate, Guren was now grouped with Jujo and Goshi, so if his bad attitude were to be seen, he would also drag down the reputations of the others.

Guren smiled and said.

‘Why do I have to be concerned about your reputation too?’

‘That is because…… We are all Kureto-sama’s subordinates, in future we will also be companions working together, so……’

However, Guren was no longer listening.

Companions.

They were companions?

Kureto-sama’s subordinates, companions?

This was certainly fortunate, to be personally chosen by Kureto-sama to be one of his underlings.

This thought surfaced in his mind.

‘…… Haha.’

Guren laughed in a self-depreciating way, before yawning and continuing to support his head with his hand.

‘Hey Guren!’

Mito called.

The male sitting nearby began to laugh.

Hiiragi Shinya.

‘Come on, Mito-chan, don’t bug him anymore. It’s not like his laziness and disappointing attitude is anything new.’

Mito showed a respectful face to those of the Hiiragi family.

‘Ah, Shinya-sama. However……’

‘Anyway, to someone of his caliber, the curriculum taught at this school must be pointless. Right? Guren? Don’t you agree?’

‘……’

When Guren ignored Shinya, Mito grew angry again.

‘Hey, you! How dare you ignore Shinya-sama’s words!’

Hearing this furious shout, the people outside started to whisper again.

‘Hey, looks like that rumor was true. He really is on good terms with Shinya-sama and that girl from the Jujo family.’

‘So, does that mean that rebellious Ichinose branch family has sworn allegiance to the Hiiragi family… to Kureto –sama?’

Hearing that voice,

‘……’

Guren once more stared out the window and gently bit his lip.

In the past, the Ichinose family had been the most loyal to the Hiiragi family, and among the branch families had been the most prestigious and powerful.

But 500 years ago – they split with the Hiiragi family, and set up the religious sect ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

With regard to the situation then, there were no exact reports, but the reason for this was something everyone knew well.

The lone reason, was simple a love story.

A heart-rending love story.

There had once been a beautiful Ichinose girl, the Hiiragi’s eldest and second sons both vied for her favor.

After a series of complicated events, the girl’s affection was successfully gained by the second son.

According to legend, the eldest son was unable to accept this reality.

Thus one night, the eldest son raped the girl, impregnated her and had the second son castrated.

After that, the eldest son had his own son, the girl and the second son cast out of the family.

The exiled second sun, together with the Ichinose girl, then set up the new religious sect ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

However, their defeat was still apparent.

After all, when all was said and done, the eldest son was still heir to the Hiiragi family.

The one leading ‘Mikado no Oni’, was the heir to the Hiiragi family.

However, the eldest son did not destroy the organization set up by the second son and the Ichinose girl.

The reason for this, was to humiliate them.

So that the Ichinose girl who had not chosen him, and the younger brother who had betrayed him, would be laughed at and scorned for eternity.

He allowed them to live to suffer humiliation.

To allow their descendants to always bear the scorn of others.

Of course, the castrated second sun could not produce children with the girl.

Hence, the child born of the rape by the eldest son – the Hiiragi boy became the adopted son and heir of ‘Mikado no Tsuki’.

The second son was always scorned.

The girl was always scorned.

The two of them continued to deeply love the other. Yet everything other than this was taken away.

Everyone in the families scorned them.

Humiliated them.

This was the price of betrayal.

The price of betraying the Hiiragi family.

And so, everyone in the families became used to scorning the Ichinose family.

That was why the Ichinose were always rats.

From the moment they were born, they were dirty, smelly rats.

Only, after a long time, all this simply became urban legend.

To the new generation’s Guren and those of the Hiiragi family, this was no longer a topic of importance.

That was why Kureto could calmly issue orders to Guren. The eldest son of the Hiiragi family, had forgiven the Ichinose family.

While this could be seen as violating tradition, it was still a reasonable thing to do. Anyway, things like the ancestors’ love stories, no one really cared about.

Being the loner among the ten families comprising the Ichinose, Nii, Sanguu, Shijin, Goshi, Rikudou, Shichikai, Hakke, Kuki and Jujo, the Ichinose should be the strongest.

If that family would follow Kureto-sama today – this was important enough to be a significant topic of discussion.

It could also be due to his controlling nature that Kureto-sama took Guren under his wing.

Recess was coming to an end, class would resume soon.

Hence, Mito huffily returned to her seat.

As she did so, she was also teased by Goshi.

‘You really don’t learn, huh. Why bother with Guren? Or do you like him……’

‘Shut up!’

Goshi had only said halfway before he was slapped.

Goshi laughed.

However, the rest of the class dared not to laugh. They were afraid of the revenge that came from laughing at a member of the elite families.

And so, everyone could only show kind, sincere smiles.

In the end, whether it was Jujo or Goshi, they were both venerated by the others.

The teacher was already standing on the teacher’s platform. The fourth period of the day began.

This class was on the ways to counter and deal with Western magic, a topic in which Guren had little interest.

Shinya, sitting next to him, lightly tapped his shoulder.

‘Hey Guren.’

‘……’

‘Hey.’

‘So noisy.’

‘Well, this is class. So try to speak softer, okay?’

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’

But Shinya pulled his chair closer, leaned on Guren and whispered in his ear.

‘…… If I’m speaking so softly, will I anger the teacher?’

Guren turned with a face full of irritation.

Shinya was still smiling widely. In this school, there were no teachers who dared show wrath towards those who bore the Hiiragi name, Shinya was only saying this for fun.

Guren did not say a word. Shinya annoying him was also perfectly normal, there was no need to respond.

Yet Shinya did not seem to care and continued to whisper in his ear.

‘Tonight, <Hyakuya Sect> will come. So where shall we meet up?’

In this instant, Guren could not help the widening of his eyes.

His gaze locked onto Shinya.

This was not something that should be said in a school run by ‘Mikado no Oni’.

If they were to be overheard, they would immediately be arrested and tortured.

However, Shinya was still wearing his usual smile. Evidently, before saying these words he had already made untold preparations.

If so,

‘……Don’t scare me like that.’ Said Guren. Shinya grinned again.

‘That’s because it’s not good for you to always ignore people and even make Mito-chan angry.’

‘Stop joking around. I’m not interested in playing around with you.’

Guren said, directing a stern gaze at Shinya.

‘I’m not joking. I’m also not interesting in silly games.’

Guren stared at Shinya.

Shinya merely smiled and let Guren stare.

Guren had no inclination to trust Shinya.

Shinya had given him the piece of the chimaera called <Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse> that Mahiru had left behind, so to some extent he could be trusted, but if he let down his guard, he might be taken advantage of.

Therefore, it was necessary to act cautiously.

‘……’

Guren did not reply.

Taking the initiative, Shinya placed a piece of paper on the table. On it was written the address for rendezvous that night.

Shinya had left his fingerprints on this paper. If Guren gave it to Kureto, the place where they were to meet the <Hyakuya Sect> would be ambushed by the Hiiragi family, and Shinya would also be killed that day.

In other words, Shinya had exposed his weakness to his opponent.

With a shocked expression, Guren asked.

‘…… Why do you trust me?’

Shinya smiled.

‘Why don’t you instead say that you’re amazed at my alertness.’

‘Because your face annoys me.’

‘Ahaha. Even though I look so friendly?’

‘Shut up.’

‘….. Anyway, you may know nothing about me, but I’ve always heard about you.’

‘……’

‘Ever since I was young. From the time I first met Mahiru… Because, she always talks about you.’

Shinya said thus.

Guren smiled coldly.

‘Then, did you go mad with jealously? You really like Mahiru, right?’

In response, Shinya smiled lightly.

‘To be accurate, I have good feelings towards Hiiragi, but I don’t like her to that extent.’

‘……Humph.’

‘But, I really am jealous of you.’

‘Huh? Why?’

‘I’ve always been imagining what you were like. I wondered about if you were to appear before me, which of us would be stronger, and what you looked like, etcetera.’

This made Guren remember.

When he first entered the school, Shinya launched a surprise attack on him.

Of course, even now he could not ascertain the truth of his words, but maybe to some extend he was trustworthy.

Even so.

Guren picked up the paper Shinya left on his table and slipped it into his pocket, taking care to preserve Shinya’s fingerprints on its surface.

This action that purposely preserved the fingerprints was noticed by Shinya, who smiled.

‘How prudent.’

‘To avoid the fate of the trash that is not street-smart and is disposed of.’

Hearing him say this, Shinya was a little upset, and said.

‘…… That self-pitying talk…… If it were Mahiru she would definitely put on an annoyed expression, why on earth does she like you?’

‘Maybe my face looks friendlier?’

When Guren said this, Shinya looked at him in apparent surprise.

‘…… Ha, hahaha.’

He laughed.

Guren cast his gaze outside the window.

The schoolyard, as expected, was filled with dry heat.

It was summer.

Summer.

If this world were to end on Christmas day, this would be the last summer ever.

———————————————————

After class and club activities were over, the phone rang.

The caller ID read <Hiragi Kureto>.

The main candidate to be the Hiiragi heir, the student council president that no one in school could disobey.

After pressing the ‘Answer’ button, he heard the other’s voice.

‘What?’

‘No. Is there anything you need of me, Kureto-sama – that is how you should say it.’

‘Do you like oppressing your subordinates that much?’

‘Nah, just joking.’

‘Your jokes aren’t funny at all. Have you been spoilt so much by the higher-ups that your brain has also spoilt? (TN: Hurhur, pun intended)

‘Hahaha, do you want to die?’

‘I dare you to try. Do you think it’s such an easy feat?’

‘……No. But, you know, I really like that attitude of yours.’

‘Sigh~ What attitude do you like?’

‘Although your way of speaking is very sharp, when you cannot win against me you clearly recognize your own status; this attitude.’

‘……’

Guren did not respond. Because this was a fact. Right now, he could not afford to be surrounded by enemies.

‘Mikado no Tsuki’ could not afford ‘Mikado no Oni’ as an enemy.

This was not a simple child’s fight. Even if he attained victory with his sword, it would be meaningless.

If the people he respected and treasured were labelled as criminals, even the pregnant would not be spared.

Just like 500 years ago.

The situation had not changed at all.

Mito and Goshi, who had finished packing and were ready to go home, walked over.

Goshi saw Guren and snickered.

‘Making a call right after school ends, could it be your girlfriend.’

Mito overheard this, and –

‘……What!?’

For some reason she stared at Guren.

Guren ignored her and continued to talk on his phone.

‘Anyway, what do you want?’

‘During lunch break tomorrow, come to the student council room.’

‘No.’

‘Haha, you don’t have the right to refuse. See you tomorrow.’

‘Bleh.’

Before hearing the sound of Guren sticking out his tongue, Kureto ended the call.

Shinya, who was sitting beside him, lifted his head to ask.

‘Kureto-nii?’

‘My girlfriend.’

Hearing this, Mito rushed over.

‘…… Wait, wait a minute! You’re still in training, how could you engage in such leisure activities as dating?’

What on earth was this girl saying.

Guren stared at her with an irritated expression, before sighing and ignoring her. Mito was immediately angered and glared at him forcefully. Seeing this, Goshi burst out laughing for some reason.

Guren did not take notice and instead scooped up his bag and left his seat.

Behind him, Mito muttered angrily.

‘Why is he rushing off just because a girl called him? What rubbish.’

Hiding a smile, Shinya told Mito.

‘That call just now was from Kureto-nii.’

‘Eh? What, really?’

Shinya had overheard.

‘Are you going to the student council room now?’

Guren shook his head.

‘No, tomorrow, during lunch break.’

But hearing him say this, Mito was even more unsettled.

‘Wait, wait, you really talked to Kureto-sama like that? That question just now……’

‘How annoying.’

‘What annoying! Wait……’

To the sounds of Mito raging, Guren left the classroom. It seemed that Mito was not yet done ranting, so Guren bluntly closed the door.

In the corridor, Sayuri and Shigure were already waiting for him. They were now in the class just next dor.

‘Ah, ah, Guren-sama. We have been waiting for you!’

Shigure then spoke coldly.

‘Did those disreputable people from the Hiiragi family do anything to you today?’

Behind him was Mito who was complaining ‘Those who are disrespectful to Kureto-sama will blah blah blah’, now, in front of him was his aide who was calling the Hiiragi family disreputable.

Half wanting to burst out laughing, Guren resisted and replied.

‘Nothing at all. Just as usual.’

Sayuri still showed a worried expression.

‘What do you mean, as usual? Did someone throw a cola bottle at you?’

Shigure’s face immediately went cold.

‘If so, we must kill everyone in the Hiiragi family.’

From her uniform skirt, she pulled out a knife. She was serious.

But Sayuri did not notice this and spoke cheerfully as usual.

‘Oh yeah, Guren-sama! What do you want to eat? Whatever Guren-sama wants to eat, I can make it……’

‘Curry.’

‘Eh, again~?’

At this moment, the classroom door opened. Mito walked out and noticed Shigure’s cold glare.

‘Ah, Yukimi-san…… Such a scary expression, has something happened?’

‘No, nothing at all.’

‘Even so, it is better to speak of happy things here. As such, there are some things Yukimi-san should also tell Guren. With the disrespectful manner in which he treats Kureto-sama, right now Guren’s position is not very good.’

However, Shigure directed her cold glare at Mito and answered.

‘Guren-sama did not do anything wrong.’

‘Being his aide you always cover up for him……’

‘Outsiders have no right to criticize the master of my house. Your voice is very piercing, can you keep it down a little?’

‘……Uh.’

And so Mito embarrassedly silenced herself, casting a silent plea for help towards Guren.

‘Why’re you looking at me?’

Guren said, which made her blush for no reason.

‘…… I, I only, I was only thinking for your sake……’

‘Don’t pry into others’ matters.’

Goshi walked out from behind Mito.

‘Alright, stop teasing Mito-chan. Today’s that day right? The day that everyone plays nice and goes to Guren’s house to play, right? So let’s all get along.’

But this was the first time Guren had heard of such a thing.

‘Huh? What’s up with that?’

Guren burst out. Grinning, Goshi explained.

‘Well~ you see, we’re all united as Kureto-sama’s subordinates, so sometimes we should get closer right?’

‘No, never heard of that.’

‘Yes. Okay. Since I have just come up with such a brilliant idea, let’s all go to Guren’s place.’

‘Stop kidding. That would obviously never happen.’

Unfortunately, yet another nuisance emerged from the classroom, this time it was Shinya who walked out.

‘What, what? Such an interesting idea. I also want to go~’

His expression filled with annoyance, Guren whipped around to leave.

‘What idiots. Let’s go.’

And so he left, which Shigure and Sayuri following.

However, Sayuri occasionally glanced back over her shoulder.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Guren asked.

‘……Are those three following?’

‘Yes.’

‘…… Haa, those idiots really took it seriously.’

Shigure lifted her head to ask.

‘Should I destroy them?’

‘If you can even shake off Mito, that would be not bad already.’

‘…… That is true…… Uuu…… I am not strong enough, I am very sorry……’

‘No, forget it, I’m not angry or anything.’

Guren gently petted Shigure’s head, causing her to look at him in surprise. On her usually emotionless face, a dazed expression seemed to emerge.

Compared to this, the reaction from the side was much bigger. Sayuri’s face was filled with panic.

‘Ah! Ah! What was that just now! Shigure is so sneaky. Me too! I also want to be petted by Guren-sama!’

But Shigure grabbed and restrained Sayuri’s hand, saying.

‘…… No. Last time Sayuri confessed to Guren-sama and was petted, this time it’s my turn.’

‘Eh~ Yuki-chan is so sneaky. I also want to be petted.’

‘No.’

‘But, but.’

They argued so, but the two aides were already showing expressions of understanding.

When petting Shigure’s head earlier, Guren had slipped the paper Shinya had given him behind Shigure’s ear. On it was written the time and location of the meeting.

2am.

Hikarigaoka Park.

In front of the tennis practice courts.

This was the meeting with the <Hyakuya Sect>. Naturally, the name <Hyakuya Sect> was not written on this paper, but there would definitely be preparations to be made. Weapons had to be readied. Or perhaps they would have to move stealthily and not let anyone notice.

Shigure spoke.

‘Putting the jokes aside, today I need to take in the laundry, so I shall head back first. What about you, Sayuri?’

‘I need to go the supermarket. Today, everyone……’

She glanced back. Guren confirmed it.

‘Probably so. That bunch is very annoying, we can’t shake them off.’

‘I see. Then just to be on the safe side, I will prepare their shares too.’

As Sayuri said this, Goshi snuck over.

‘Ah, to be able to eat Sayuri-chan’s homemade cooking? I’m really looked forward to it.’

Sayuri answered his smile with a cold aura, before saying.

‘Then I shall prepare curry, Guren-sama.’

With this parting statement, she turned and quickly walked away with Shigure.

Seeing them leave, Goshi sped up to walk side by side with Guren.

‘…… Guren you really are sneaky~ to have two such cute girls serve as your aides.’

Shinya also walked side by side with Guren.

‘You could just ask your family for the same.’

‘Ah, Shinya-sama… Nah, I’m not as good as my younger brother. Actually, they don’t really think much of me……’

‘But now you are Kureto-nii’s subordinate.’

‘Oh yeah, that’s true. After that all my attendants’ attitudes towards me changed, but that immediate change is what’s repulsive…… It feels like my brother is also more nervous……’

The two people by Guren’s side chatted as they walked.

‘You’ve really made up your mind to come to my house?’

As Guren asked this, Goshi nodded.

‘Yeah. Can we?’

Shinya then smiled.

‘Ah, is it that? You’ve hidden many R-rated books in your house, so us visiting is a problem for you?

Actually, it was not because of hidden porn magazines that he felt trapped. Even if it were people from the Hiiragi family who came to check, they would still not find anything of significance.

Why did Goshi suddenly want to visit Guren’s home? Shinya had also taken notice of this issue.

No matter how you put it, today was the day that they might meet the <Hyakuya Sect>.

Was it possible that Kureto had found out about this –

That the meeting tomorrow afternoon in the student council room was just a cover, and that he actually knew that they were meeting the <Hyakuya Sect> today.

Guren directly interrogated Goshi.

‘…… Were you ordered by Kureto to keep surveillance on me?’

Shinya looked over at Guren and Goshi. Evidently, he had also been thinking about this.

Goshi shrugged.

‘Nope. I haven’t gotten any instructions from Kureto-sama.’

‘Then why do you suddenly want to come to my house?’

‘Because we are companions.’

‘Huh?’

‘We are also classmates, if this were a normal school, it would be the summer holidays now.’

‘So?’

‘It’s the time for everyone to play together. Right?’

However, Guren wore an expression of complete befuddlement and shook his head.

‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’

Goshi laughed.

‘Really? Okay, the truth is that~ I got scolded by my parents yesterday.’

‘Parents? What did they say, that you have to gain as much of Kureto’s favor as the Ichinose?’

Goshi shook his head.

‘No, no, the opposite actually. They said that the Ichinose trash are still traitors and will soon be shunned again, so I should not associate with them so much.’

His parents certainly had foresight, thought Guren in his heart. However, it seemed that Goshi intended to ignore his parents’ criticism.

‘You should listen to your parents, or you’ll become bad.’

‘So what if I’m bad.’

‘You rebellious rascal.’

‘Haha, just like those who steal motorcycles for a joy ride? That also seems like a great activity for summer~’

‘Go die.’

‘Hahaha’

Goshi laughed.

From the side, Shinya asked.

‘Does Goshi have a motorcycle licence?’

‘Ah, no. What about Shinya-sama?’

‘Me neither. But I can ride one during training.’

‘Ah, me too~ but it’s more fun to take the public’s possessions? I also want to ride a motorcycle bike.

Even as they conversed, they continued to follow Guren. Obviously, they planned to follow him home.

In the middle of Shinya and Goshi’s discussion of motorcycles, Mito spoke.

‘…… Can I, um, ask you something?’

It seemed that she also intended to follow Guren home.

‘…… Um, just now, you petted Yukimi-san’s head.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ah, that…… that……’

‘What about it?’

Mito was having trouble forcing the words out.

‘…… The two of you, uh, are going out?’

‘Ah?’

‘Uh, or is that even if you are not officially dating you would touch your subordinates so tenderly? Or unless, unless, even at night……’

‘What are you saying?’

‘To lay a hand on your subordinates who cannot disobey you, what kind of person are you……’

‘You’re really noisy.’

Guren let out a sigh and stopped listening.

This group of rascals, what were they up to since just now? Their inane chatter was just like that of normal school students. In the first place, to play with friends, this idea was something Guren could not understand. To gather at his house, what did they want?

Was it to play poker?

‘……Good grief.’

They walked out of school.

The weather was the usual oppressive heat.

There were still students training in school. This was the type of school it was. Even if the <Hyakuya Sect> attacked and decreased the school population, no one would stop to rest.

The order to lockdown all information had yet to be rescinded. Only the few in the higher ranks knew about their state of war with the <Hyakuya Sect>.

Even so, small conflicts were taking place unceasingly. Not just in Japan, but even in the branch organizations all over the world, fights were starting to take place.

Hence, to say that the headquarters of ‘Mikado no Oni’ in Shibuya was the most peaceful place left on earth might not be a lie.

Even the <Hyakuya Sect> could not easily lay siege to Shibuya.

However, this school with its concealed traitors was a different story.

As Guren looked around the school, he thought of all the things Mahiru had done.

About dyeing this school crimson with the blood of students, and the things he had done in his youth.

Mito noticed his distant gaze.

‘……Time passes really quickly, huh.’

Was Mito also comparing the schoolyard before her eyes to the scenes of that day?

The scenes of blood and corpses everywhere.

‘Yeah. That’s true.’

It seemed like he had made no progress forward at all, but time was already slipping away.

Mito spoke.

‘In this short time, I’ve already been saved by you twice.’

‘It was just luck.’

She laughed bitterly and lifted her head to gaze at Guren.

‘…… You said it was by luck, but wasn’t it because of it that you ended up grievously injured and comatose for a month?’

‘I was just careless. Furthermore, sleeping is my hobby.’

‘You’re always cracking jokes to change the subject…… But, Guren.’

Saying this, she gripped a small piece of the back of Guren’s shirt.

‘……I really want to show my gratefulness. So, I want to repay you.

‘Repayment, huh. Like how?’

‘…… Like, until the day Kureto-sama officially acknowledges you, and gives you the position of honor you deserve in ‘Mikado no Oni’, I will always support you.’

Nosing into affairs that were not hers – this is what Guren thought, but did not say aloud.

‘…… Furthermore, the current Guren, father would never accept……’

‘Huh?’

‘Nothing, just talking to myself.’

For some reason she stepped back shyly.

Guren really couldn’t understand her feelings.

He could not understand Goshi’s feelings either.

Why care about the Ichinose trash? Why support him? In Aiichi, the research on Kiju, that if discovered by the Hiiragi family would be severely punished, had already begun.

Yet this bunch of people trusted him so easily.

Companions? Friends? To gain position under Kureto? These kinds of words were too foolish.

It was just as Goshi’s parents had said, the traitorous Ichinose family that was rotten to the core, was too dangerous to get close to.

But even so they said they wanted to be friends. They said that they wanted to deepen their friendship as fellow subordinates of Kureto. It seemed that they did not suspect him as all, and were still innocent and happy in their roles as the young mistress and master that were coveted by their families.

‘……’

Could he kill these two with his own hands?

Guren mulled over this in his head.

Because they were enemies, enemies of the Ichinose family, there would come a day when it had to end. When that time came, could he do it with his own two hands?

In Ueno he had not killed them. That should have been the time to do it, yet he could not. Whether or not this was the right thing to do, he had no idea. It was not a matter of principle. The point was that he should have acted, but he could not.

– I couldn’t do it.

‘……’

This sentence reverberated in his head.

Once again he recalled Kureto’s words to him.

‘Although your way of speaking is very sharp, when you cannot win against me you clearly recognize your own position.’

Kureto had said this before.

But was it the truth?

His ambition was ultimately just empty talk, if Shigure and Sayuri were to be captured and held as hostages, would his ambition be so easy dispelled?

Or was it that he still held such an innocent way of thinking that he could not even kill Mito and Goshi?

If so, he should just discard his ambition. For he had already dragged in his comrades in the Ichinose.

The war had already begun.

It had already begun long ago.

Despite all this, Goshi exhibited no anxiety at all, and asked with a face filled with expectation.

‘Hey, is your place far away?’

‘If I say it’s far will you go home?’

‘No way.’

Guren sighed.

‘It’s not that far…….’ He replied tiredly.

Translator’s comments

Hyaka: The history of the Ichinose and Hiiragi is so dark. Guren can also be very dark. Also, why is Guren so popular? First Mahiru, then Shinya, then Mito, not to mention Yuu-kun, Shigure and Sayuri…

K. Shion: Cos he is Guren that’s why. .__.

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straycat-writes · 4 years

Text

fuubutsushi // 風物詩 (oda sakunosuke)

fuubutsushi // 風物詩 (japanese, n.) - the feelings, scents, or images that evoke memories or anticipation of a particular season.

requested by: anonymous

It was spring the first time he saw her, the mild early April air carrying with it the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. She was curled up with a book in a quiet corner of the quaint little café he used to frequent, completely lost as the words on the pages painted a picture in front of her.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and Oda must have stood there for a full five minute, wondering whether or not he should approach her and strike up a conversation. With mellow sunlight streaming in through the window beside her and a steaming cup of coffee on the table, she seemed almost too serene, too…picturesque for him to disturb her.

But humans have an innate instinct, a tendency to notice when they’re being looked at. She looked up from her book, slowly taking in her surroundings before her eyes finally landed on him. Oda would have liked to look away, should have looked away but he couldn’t bring himself to. When he blinked slowly, she gave him a dazzling smile, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

He approached her, a charming smile gracing his handsome face, “Is this spot taken, ma’am?”

“Not at all.” She smiled, gesturing in front of her, “You’re very welcome to stay.”

He sat down, looking at the blue and gold cover of the book still glued to her hand. On France and Poetry. He raised a curious eyebrow, “Baudelaire?”

“Among others.” She nodded, rather wistfully, “Baudelaire was insanely talented, but it’s a shame he has become so synonymous with French poetry that people barely pay any attention to others.”

“And who do you think deserves more attention?”

“Well, many others.” She said, then smiled sheepishly, “Although I have an affinity for Paul Verlaine.”

Oda laughed, “Ah, one of the romantics*. I must admit they do have a dreamy quality to their musings.”

Her eyes lit up at that, “Right? I understand the appeal of realism and all, but nothing compares to this particular form of expression, and Verlaine definitely did it better than anyone else.”

“That might have had something to do with his muse.” Oda reflected, “They do say he was on love with Rimbaud.”

“He shot Rimbaud.” she laughed, “Twice.”

Oda grinned coyly, “We all have our love languages.”

They sat there and talked for hours, about anything and everything, and each time she laughed at something he said, Oda swore he heard windchimes somewhere in the distance. It was almost evening by the time they realized that they couldn’t stay there forever, curled up in a world of their own that started and ended in a cozy little café. When she left, all Oda was left with was a messily scribbled phone number and beautiful name to go with it. He smiled.

It was summer the first time the thought crossed his mind that he might be falling for her. They had been going out for a few weeks now. It was a stiflingly warm night, and the smell of freshly mowed grass mingled with that of the salty sea breeze as they walked back after having dinner together, his hand intertwined with hers. They had stopped at the docks to admire the nighttime sea for a moment, when he finally plucked together the courage to tell her what he did for a living, telling her that it was fine if she wanted leave after this.

She cried. Each tear felt like a rip in Oda’s heart and he desperately wanted to console her, but he wasn’t sure if she would like being touched by him now. Then she got angry.

“You told me you wanted to be a writer.” She said through gritted teeth, “Tell me, then. Have you ever taken a life?”

The question took Oda by surprise. It took him a while, but he answered nonetheless, “…Never.”

“Why?”

“Because…” he began, then frowned, looking down at his feet, “Because then I wouldn’t have the right to be a writer anymore.”

More tears spilled down her cheeks, “Then why do you consider me shallow enough to leave you now? Do you really think that low of me?”

Oda was dumbstruck, unable to articulate even the simplest of thoughts. He had been ready for anything she might have had to say, but not this. Even after he told her everything…she still refuses to leave?

“Say something.” She frowned, lightly putting a hand on his chest, “You cannot hope to be a very good writer if you cannot even find the words to articulate –“

Oda couldn’t stop himself. He kissed her. The kiss was soft and true, tasting of subtle longing and slightly of the saltiness of her tears. And something else he couldn’t put his finger on, something far sweeter and much more delicate. They were both out of breath by the time he let go, and as he looked at the small smile fighting its way to her lips, at her rosy cheeks and shining eyes, Oda was sure he was in love.

It was autumn the first time he told her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. It was once again a lazy afternoon, and they were lying on the bed in his small but airy two room flat, limbs tangled with each other’s and a thin cotton sheet the only thing covering their naked bodies. She traced little circles on his chest with her finger.

“Sakura really looks up to you, you know?” he said out of the blue.

She smiled, “Yeah? Well, she’s a good kid. So are the others. You’re doing a great job, Odasaku.”

“You think so?” he murmured, turning on his side to face her, “I just…I don’t want to make any mistakes when it comes to them.”

“And you won’t.” she said, lightly cupping his cheek. His crystal blue eyes looked even more breathtaking when the golden autumn sunlight hit them like that. “You know why? Because you’re a good man. And because I would never leave you to do this on your own.”

Oda’s eyes widened, a strange kind of warmth spreading throughout his chest. “Do you really mean that?”

“Every last bit.”

For a brief moment, he thought he saw every beautiful version of future flash before his eyes. A beautiful sea-side cabin, where the salty breeze accompanies him as he writes everything he has ever wanted to put down on paper. Stories of people and lives and love and beauty. Stories about the kids, about her and about himself being forever locked in her embrace. It was a beautiful version of reality, one he wasn’t sure he deserved but one he wanted nonetheless.

And here she was, telling him she wanted the same thing.

He sighed, dipping slightly forward to rest his forehead on hers, “Sweetheart…whatever will I do without you?”

“That’s irrelevant.” She murmured, place a small kiss just at the edge of his lips, “Because you won’t ever have to find out.”

It was winter the first time he realized just how out of reach that beautiful reality really was. The world had never been fair. Bad things happened to good people everyday and the pursuit of happiness was utterly meaningless. Everything was meaningless. God didn’t exist, and if he did, he wasn’t worthy of being called one. What kind of cruel, sadistic God allowed innocent children to die at the hands of mercenaries?

Oda Sakunosuke had nothing left to live for anymore.

Or so he thought. If he had put aside the sheer rage coursing through his veins and clouding his eyes for one moment, he would have realized that he had one last solace left in the world. One last chance at salvation, waiting for him to crawl back home to her and into her welcoming embrace. She would weep with him, weep for him and soothe him as he screamed his throat raw and let out every last bit of pain and ache the world had shoved into him. And regardless of the amount of blood on his hands, she would gather him up and piece him back together again.

But rage and hopelessness and sheer, white hot fury had blinded Oda, and he could no longer see anything but red. Gide wanted a reckoning and Oda would give it to him, even if it ended up destroying him in the process. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

There were a few thoughts that crossed Oda’s mind as he lied there in Dazai’s arms, his heartbeat slowly failing him.

One of them was that he wanted a cigarette, which is an odd thing to think as you’re dying, but he allowed himself the liberty. The second was that he would never be a writer now. But that hardly mattered at this point. The third was that Dazai was crying. Oda had never seen him cry before, but he figured it was good for him, because underneath that fragile façade of the horrific ‘demonic prodigy’, Oda knew he was just a scared, broken little boy who just wanted to feel something other than empty for once. If his death was what pushed Dazai out of the darkness, then Oda wouldn’t consider it to be completely in vain.

The last thing he thought, as his vision began to grow darker and darker, was that there was a girl still waiting for him at home. They had had a fight before he left, and he had left her crying on the doorway in the biting evening air that chilled everything to the bone. He had left without telling her where he was going. He wished to God he could turn back time, even for a little bit, and say all the right things to her, or at least a proper goodbye. But it was too late for that now.

She would probably get the news from Dazai. He wondered briefly how she would take it. Would she cry? Would she get angry at his foolishness? Would she despise him for leaving her? If she did, he thought, he wouldn’t blame her.

Gide was dead. Oda had had his revenge, his hollow moment of triumph. But he didn’t feel any better. All he felt was this all-pervading sense of cold emptiness, knowing that his momentary victory came at the price of leaving two people behind to pick up their broken pieces. To clean up the mess he created.

He was very cold now, and too drained to open his eyes anymore. As the last of his strength left him, he only wished…something good comes of his death.

*romantics here refers to being part of the early 19th century literary movement, Romanticism, and has no relation to the present day connotations of the word.

#took me long enough xD but im quite happy with this one #oda sakunosuke #odasaku x reader #bsd x reader #one shot #sceanrio #angst #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #imagines #straycat's 1k follower celebration

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marril96 · 4 years

Text

Rowena Said

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena says a lot of things. Not all of them are true.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

Rowena once told you she couldn't love. Pride tinged her face as she said it, as if it were an accomplishment, a feat she'd worked hard to archive. It was never a secret, her disdain for emotions, her complete and utter indifference to them. As if they were beneath her, filth under bear the soles of her high heels. Too lowly. Too human for a witch of her caliber — a witch she'd fought tooth and nail to become.

She told you she didn't cook or clean. That was what the maids were for, she reasoned. She was a lady, a missus, a queen in everything but title; housework was as beneath her as emotions.

She said she hated modern music, and proclaimed — loudly, without a shred of hesitation — her disdain for contemporary art, finding it stale, tasteless. Lacking everything that made it mean something, that made it burrow itself into people's hearts like a benevolent ghost. Nothing could compare to the good old times, she said. The muses must have abandoned humanity long ago.

She said she was the best, and the Grand Coven was beneath her. That they only bound her magic because they were frightened of her greatness for they knew they could never reach their own. That they were persecuting her — hunting her — because she was everything they wanted to be and never could. Because she was born with power, and they were born with nothing. Because she wouldn't let them control her, reign her in and tame her like an animal. Because she was better.

Rowena said she was a horrible mother, and openly expressed her disdain for children. It wasn't that she wanted to hate her son; that was just the way she was, as inborn as the red of her hair and the green of her eyes.

She claimed to hate people, humans and monsters alike. Said she felt no remorse at taking a life, innocent or not. Nobody was innocent, she mused. They'd all done something; they'd all caused pain and ruin. Had to have for, at their core, they were living beings. Their hearts beat and blood pumped in their veins. They were capable of bad as well as good, and they had to have given in, at least once. Innocence was a myth sold to the masses to manipulate them, to make them feel guilty. Rowena was long past that.

She said she trusted no one, and advised you to do the same. People would only hurt you, she told you. They would rip your heart out when you least expected it, and stomp on it until it was in ruins. Until you were in ruins. They didn't care about you, so why should you extend that courtesy to them? You owed them nothing, and they had no right to expect otherwise. Sweet words and hugs were meaningless. Too risky in such a cruel, cruel world.

She told you Lucifer was safe. She didn't trust him — she simply relied on him. He was her (and, by extension, your) way to the greatness she deserved, that she was owed. She assured you it would be okay.

When it turned out to not be okay, and you were bawling your eyes out, thinking her dead, she told you she'd been stupid. It was the first time you'd heard her speak negatively about herself. Rowena MacLeod had the/an ego the size of the entire world; she didn't bring herself down. Not ever.

That was when things started to change.

She spoke of revenge, of everything bad she wanted to do to the Devil and knew she couldn't for he was an archangel and she was a witch whose magic had been bound.

She convinced you to give Amara a try, and then that the Winchesters and Crowley were a safer bet. They could take care of Lucifer, she said, and the two of you wouldn't have to live in hiding anymore. You could be free again.

As the world started going to hell, she proposed a spell of going back in time. You could live out your lives in the middle ages, and, as per the witch Clea's suggestion, in Ancient Greece. It would be fun, she said. You weren't too happy about the idea, but you agreed. You would do anything for her, anything she asked. Anything to be with her, even if it meant living in times that scared you, that weirded you out with their difference to what you were used to.

To your relief, when Sam Winchester came with a proposal of partnership, Rowena agreed. She told you Lucifer couldn't hurt you. She promised she would make sure of it.

Upon noticing your discomfort, she said her flirtation with God meant nothing. She was just having some fun, she said. Nothing serious. Nothing worth getting upset over.

And later, in the Bunker's kitchen, when you were sobbing about the world's inevitable end, and admitting your feelings out loud — for what did it matter anymore? You were going to Hell anyway. There was no point in pretending you saw her as just a friend — she took your hands, said she liked you, as well, and kissed you for the very first time, and it was everything you dreamed of and more. So much more that you no longer feared Hell for you'd finally gotten a taste of Heaven.

She told you you were beautiful. She called you her wee lass, and you, in turn, proclaimed her your girl.

She called you darling, dear, love. Made you hers in actions as well as words.

She held you. Cherished you. Kissed you over and over like an addict, always craving more, and you were more than willing to give it.

She told you she loved you, out of the blue, completely unexpected. An unusual proclamation for, as loving as she was, she preferred to show it in actions rather than words. Your startled look frightened her, made her flinch, and you could tell she was flashing back to her last love, the one who'd promised her the world and had abandoned her helf dead, her thighs slick with blood, a screaming infant in her arms.

It was over in an instant for your smile, big and bright as summer skies, elicited one of her own, and before she could utter another word, your arms were thrown around her and you were holding her tight and promising it was forever. Promising you were forever, if she wanted you.

She told you she did. More than anything, ever.

She called you silly names — Scottish, and you always demanded an explanation. When Rowena was feeling petty, you had to resort to Google — and chastised you when you messed the simplest things up. Half-heartedly, of course, for it seemed she was incapable of getting angry at you. True anger, the kind where her magic flared and sparked and destroyed everything in its path. That was reserved for enemies. For hunters, demons, and unfriendly witches. The worst your arguments elicited were eye-rolls and doors slamming shut as she walked away, stomping like a pissed off rabbit — an adorable, pouty pissed off rabbit.

After her last horrid death at the Devil's hands, Rowena told you she was scared. She tried to keep it to herself, but it was hard to hide the nightmares that drenched her in sweat, and screams and flashbacks in the middle of the day. She told you she was terrified. Called herself pathetic, a weakling. You were quick to assure her she was not. She was just in pain. PTSD was tough on a person.

She tried to deny she had it, but eventually had to look the facts in the face. The symptoms were there, painted in her every move, every twitch. She had post-traumatic stress disorder. And she was terrified of it.

She said she missed her son, and expressed regret you'd never before seen on her face, especially about her treatment of him. She'd been a horrible mother to him. She'd hurt him. Abused him. Abandoned him like he was trash she couldn't wait to get rid of. He'd been the one person who'd loved her unconditionally, who'd depended on her, and she'd let him down. She'd put him through hell. And when she'd found him again all these centuries later, she'd proceeded to do the same.

She told you she let down everyone in her life. Fergus. Oskar. Herself. And, eventually, she would let you down as well. You took her hand and told her — promised her, swore it on your life — that would never happen. She was a different person now. She'd changed.

She thought herself unworthy of redemption, only to be assured by you, and later by the Winchesters, that there was a chance for her. She could redeem herself. She could become a good person. In your eyes, she already had.

She talked sweet to you when you were sick. Made you potions and let you rest on her chest. Rocked you like a child in need of comfort.

She expressed her distaste at the amount of sugar in your tea and coffee, but still made them for you every single morning — exactly the way you liked them, sugar galore. She cooked your favorite foods to surprise you, and made you that cake you liked but couldn't seem to get the recipe to work. She made it work.

She took you out to shop, and complimented every outfit, even those you felt insecure wearing. Especially those. She made you feel comfortable wearing clothes you didn't think flattered you. "What is a body but a canvas?," she would say. "What is fabric but a brush and paint?" She thought you beautiful, and, by doing so, made you feel beautiful. Made you feel like a queen walking by her, an actual queen in everything but title.

She praised any work you did. Encouraged your hobbies, however strange she might have found them. Taught you the most difficult spells, and ensured her it was okay if you couldn't cast them perfectly right away. Some things took more practice than others. There was potential in you; you just had to work hard for a little bit longer.

She was right, every single time.

She learned from you what love was. That it wasn't a weakness. That it shouldn't hurt. She wasn't afraid of it anymore; she loved you openly, without fear, without shame. Without even a sliver of a doubt about your feelings.

You told her she looked happy. She said that she was. Had never been happier, and she had you to thank for it.

Rowena said a lot of things. Some of them were lies, and others the utmost truth. Some were insecurities baring their pointed teeth. Desperation and fear, thick as the blood in her veins. Pain. Sorrow. Helplessness she would never admit to out loud. Then there was confidence, loud as her voice, never wavering. Never backing down. Inner strength that rivaled her magic.

She was a complicated creature. One of a kind. An acquired taste.

You regretted not a single thing.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @evil-regal-vampiress @hellbentredhead @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 @theeasterbilby @midnight-lestrange @oster-hagen @impala-1979

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #fanfiction #fanfic #my fics #rowena x reader

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