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brachiosaurus-on · 3 years ago

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Brachio, friend! Hello! How are you?

I know you are reading the High Republic books, and I have to wonder, has any of it given you the impression the Jedi of that time have a significantly different experience from the Jedi of the late Republic? I hear a lot of people implying that lately, but I don't quite buy it, and so I figured I would consult you.

Mon, friend! Hello! I'm well, thanks! How are you? I hope you don’t mind that I turned this answer into a bit of a rambling meta.

So, the short answer is no. Their experiences are a little bit different due to the circumstances outside of the Order being different, but I wouldn’t say that their experiences are significantly different until the Clone Wars start. The philosophy and culture within the Order is the same, and I can easily see the characters trading places or recognizing each other as Jedi. The biggest difference is the fashion.

I think that this perception may come from big differences in how they are presented.

The scope of the story is different. High Republic gives us a broad scope through several points of view; the Prequel Trilogy gives us a narrow scope through only a few points of view. The Prequel Trilogy only includes what’s relevant to either the fall of the Republic or Anakin’s fall (which eventually become intertwined themselves), and has a small cast of characters. High Republic has many concurrent and overlapping plots and subplots with twice as many main characters. The scope and focus of the stories are very, very different. You may have heard that High Republic suffers from having too many characters, which is valid, but the upside is that we get a very full picture of what’s going on around the galaxy.

The audience’s perspective is different. High Republic is told from the perspectives of Jedi who love the Order and enjoy the lifestyle. The Prequel Trilogy is told largely from the point of view of Anakin, who does not find the lifestyle fulfilling.

The structure of the story is different. The prequels are very plot driven and most of the story happens during important events; we see limited exposition, resolution, and downtime between major events. High Republic spends a lot of time in characters’ heads before, between, during, and after important events. There’s a much fuller picture of what these characters are going through and how they’re reacting to it.

The explanations of Jedi philosophy and internal workings of the Order are different. High Republic is very direct about explaining Jedi philosophy and internal workings, taking time to elaborate for the audience. The films primarily use Yoda to explain Jedi philosophy; Yoda does not elaborate and is intentionally indirect to encourage the audience to think for themselves. The films show some internal workings but are rarely explicit.

It’s also worth mentioning that the trilogies show us more ideal Jedi because they’re establishing & introducing the audience to what the Jedi actually are and using narrative foils for Anakin’s story. Because High Republic doesn’t have this burden, they have more freedom to write more relatable characters (slutty Elzar rights) with more common flaws.

Scope

In High Republic, the story is about the Jedi working with the Republic, all of the Republic. We spend time with everyone, and I mean everyone: not just the main characters, but the side characters, and the background characters too; the worldbuilding is very detailed. We see plenty of Jedi with differing skillsets, opinions, experiences, and the story gives the audience breathing room to get to know them. They have many moments that are irrelevant to the plot, but tell us more about the characters themselves. We bounce between several Jedi Masters, who each play a different role in the Order, several knights who each have a different experience, and several padawans who are at different stages in their training. We have a broad view of the Order. We also get into the heads of the Chancellor, the Nihil, different politicians, diplomats, civilians, scientists, business people, reporters, an event coordinator, I could go on; aside from the Nihil, characters outside the Order are working with the Jedi and operating in good faith. We also know that the heroes are in a game that they can win, we know that both the Order and the Republic survive this era.

The Prequel Trilogy gave us the same huge galaxy and world building, but we saw most of it in the background. It’s extremely focused on the plot and Anakin’s character; if it’s not relevant to the fall of the Republic or Anakin’s fall, it’s not included. Even some things that were very relevant to the fall of the Republic were cut in favor of things more relevant to Anakin. Because it’s mostly about him and we don’t get the perspectives of other Jedi very often, we have a narrow view of the Order. We only spend time with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Mace, and Yoda even though there are plenty of diverse Jedi in the background that we never meet. We see diversity within the Order, we know other Jedi are doing other things in other places, but we don’t interact with them until Order 66, when they become relevant to the story. We rarely meet other characters outside of their interactions with the main characters. The outside perspectives we see are Sith Lords, Padmé, other politicians, the Naboo, the Kaminoans, bounty hunters, crime lords, and a few civilians. Most of the characters outside the Order are working against the Jedi or operating in bad faith. We also know that the heroes are playing an unwinnable game, the Order and the Republic will not survive this story.

Perspective

In High Republic the audience is spending a lot of time with the Order and mostly seeing things from the Order’s point of view; we bounce between several different Jedi who all find the lifestyle fulfilling in different ways and the story is about all of them. The primary viewpoint characters have a broad, positive, perspective of the Order. When we’re reading from Elzar’s point of view we see his satisfaction when he uses the Force, how much he cares about others, how much he gets wrapped up in his own issues; when we’re reading from Stellan’s point of view, we see how much he loves teaching, how much he relaxes when he gets a chance to teach, how much he loves Elzar, how much he cares about the Order, how he wants to help; with Bell, we see how much he loves his master, we see him grieving, we see him reach these milestones where he figures out what it means to be a Jedi and how it frees him from his pain. The main characters actively participate in the Order’s community. Even when the characters are frustrated or upset with the Order or other Jedi, we know that they still love them because we’re in their heads and we get the characters’ full train of thought.

In the Late Republic, the story is told mostly from Anakin’s point of view. We see his frustration with the Order, his longing to be with Padmé, his desire for more power, his love overshadowed by his attachment. We see Anakin’s respect for the Order clouded by his disillusion (spurred on by a Sith Lord) and we don’t see him look outside his own perspective. We see him finding the lifestyle unfulfilling and not committing to it. The primary viewpoint character has a narrow, negative perspective of the Order. Another big thing is that Anakin is a Jedi who didn’t grow up in the Order and doesn’t have that inherent trust in the community, so we the audience don’t have complete trust in the Order. We see more of Anakin’s point of view than we do of Obi-Wan and Yoda who do reflect a positive experience. In the films, we’re in the room with the characters, not in their heads. We have to deduce what they’re thinking and how they’re feeling; we do not have the characters’ full train of thought.

Structure

The High Republic books have much more spread out pacing. There’s more exposition and we’re already familiar with the characters before they’re thrown through the narrative and then we spend more time with them afterwards. We get their reactions to major events and we see them struggle through recovery. The Jedi in High Republic have time to catch their breath, they are not moving from crisis to crisis the way the Order is in the Late Republic, and we are shown the time in between crises.

The prequel trilogy jumps right into the plot. We’re introduced to the characters briefly and we get to know them as they move through the plot. We don’t see much aftermath of major events, and we don’t see the process they go through to recover. They move from crisis to crisis and we do not see the time in between.

Here’s a summary of the different structures: High Republic shows us Reath, Bell, and Stellan all grieve in different ways and come to terms with their grief, but the prequel trilogy shows us neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin coming to terms with their grief over similar losses.

Explanation

The High Republic authors explain the philosophy of the Jedi more explicitly within their stories; they’re very direct. They also elaborate on what they’re saying for the benefit of the audience. I speculate that they do this to clear up some misunderstandings...

In the films, George Lucas prioritized concision and used Yoda to inform the audience; Yoda speaks in riddles to encourage the audience to think about what he’s saying. He speaks indirectly and without elaboration.

If you don’t have a background knowledge of Buddhism (or at least mindfulness), it’s not terribly difficult to misinterpret the prequel trilogy because there’s so little explanation. It’s also a little difficult to balance that within a film and there’s more room to do it in the novels.

Internal Differences within the Order

The most significant internal difference is the fashion: High Republic Jedi have fancy formal robes in addition to their day to day robes. My personal headcanon for why this is different is that as time went on and the golden age faded, the Jedi became busier, and didn’t have as much time for the fashion anymore (which is tragic, I love the concept art for their fancy robes) and by the time of the prequels we see it only in the Temple Guards, or the Order decided to dress less extravagantly to show greater humility.

We get descriptions of different career paths within the Order. This is probably where it seems most different from the Jedi in the Late Republic, but I don’t see any incompatibility. There’s nothing in the prequel trilogy or TCW to contradict the existence of these career paths, and in fact I’d say there’s evidence to support their existence. I’ll write a separate post about these because it’ll make more sense with examples and this is already quite long.

There are some other things that are different, but based on external factors. There’s one line about how Jedi don’t get killed in the field often, masters aren’t killed leaving a padawan behind, that it’s just not something that happens. I think it’s supposed to tell us about the time period, but then it happens at least 3 times, so I personally take it with a grain of salt. There’s one bit about how lightsaber dueling is primarily exercise because no one else carries a lightsaber and no Jedi would ever fight another (apparently Anakin missed that memo) but this is consistent with the culture shown in the prequel trilogy when they’re blindsided by Dooku’s betrayal.

#sorry i was not terribly concise #but i wanted to give you a full answer #the only difference I see between high republic and the prequels is the republic itself #also the sith that's a biggie #can you tell that i'm a feral jedi gremlin #meta #brachio's meta #high republic #prequels #jedi order #jedi #prequel trilogy #star wars #novels #brachio answers

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starryyyjoon · 3 years ago

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I, you | Kim Namjoon One Shot

word count: 8.2k

pairing: idol!namjoon x fem reader

summary: namjoon meets you again and he can't help but want you to look at him the same way he has all these years.

disclaimer: it's sort of written from y/n pov. kind of smut included, not too much but still. other then that, i don't think there's anything. it was written a long time ago so i don't clearly remember, sorry!

Namjoon walked in, followed by a few staff members and they occupied the empty chairs on the conference table and I smiled at him and the others. He looked great like always, he was in a navy blue hoodie and a khaki colored trouser, with his hair pushed backwards exposing his forehead.

There was something and nothing between me and him and it was too tiring to play pretend. "You look good", he remarked and I smiled at him. He's always being too kind, I looked like absolute shit, I hadn't slept in three days and my clothes were whatever was in my reach that I'd put on after showering and I rushed here.

I had met him before this level of success but I was merely an assistant director myself and we'd talked about Monet and his work together, he'd similar interests to mine but both of us didn't really get anywhere because of our timing and I believed it was for the good. He'd always expressed how he liked my vision and wants to work with me on something and I didn't believe my vision because what even was my vision that he could see and not me and after being this big I didn't really thought he'll even remember me until he hit my phone one day and here I was, at the label's office to discuss the details of his mixtape's music video.

"So, do you've something in mind?", I asked him and he pressed his back on the chair letting out a yawn, he seemed tired.

"Not really! I want it simplistic and not too hard to understand. I haven't thought about it or anything so I don't know, I would await what you propose", he softly said.

"I haven't heard the track because of--", he intervened, "--ah you haven't? You should hear it first", he said and I nodded.

"I would need to hear it", I told him, thinking about the lengthy talks with the illustrator already.

The staff then pin pointed about the budget, the do nots and other details and two of my team members who were seated beside me talked thoroughly in detail about the technicalities. Namjoon looked bored with all the talk that didn't interest him. He wasn't much different from before slightly bigger.

All of us stood up coming to an agreement when Namjoon asked me to walk up to his studio to hear the track and I asked my team members to go ahead first. I walked through the dark corridor behind him while he talked to someone on the phone, all the way to his studio. I didn't really hear what he was talking because I was invested in staring around the place like I hadn't seen a building before.

The walls were all dark and a comforting shade since I didn't like the sun anyway. It seemed like a night mode in real life.

His studio was the corner most, he typed the passcode in and stood aside gesturing for me to walk in, followed by him. He hung up the phone call and put his phone aside, switching the AC on. He sat behind the monitor while he switched it on and I went through my inbox.

"So, how have you been?", his deep tone, made me look up and I fidgeted to put my eyes on something other then him while he turned his chair around to face me.

"I have been okay-ish, like the projects I'm doing I'm satisfied with them so I guess it's kinda okay", I said and regretted it immediately, I don't even talk like this and he knows it.

"Not the work c'mon, you, your boyfriend, family, other things?", a lose smile hung on his lips and I looked at him. How can someone look like that?

"No boyfriend because you know no one can put up with this profession. I haven't slept in three days so I'm fucking annoyed and the work is too much that I don't have time for other things", I shrugged and he chuckled. I didn't want to think about guys, I barely had time for myself. Filmmaking was a time bound profession.

"I relate, trust me I do", he turned his chair back around, his eyes on the computer screen and I looked at him. I could see why he could relate, I mean of course he didn't had time either. I knew idol schedules enough to know how these things go. "Why didn't you come that day?", he asked me and my insides twisted.

"I was hoping you don't bring it up", I said in a small voice.

"Why not? I waited for you", he said without looking at me and I threw my head back on the couch thinking of the time when he'd asked me out officially and I didn't make it. "At least I deserve to know what was more important that you didn't make it", he looked at me and I closed my eyes shut.

"I had a flight, I got an exclusive food show travel experience with discovery and it was too good for an opportunity to miss", I let it out and took a breath in. I knew I could never leave work for a guy, any guy, or anyone as a matter of fact and as much as I'd thought about it on the plane...it all seemed for the better. He wasn't the kind of guy I could've had my regular thing with and I was too young to be serious.

"It was a good show", he told me. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn't flinch. I didn't regret it but his words made me feel guilty. My head was on the headrest of the sofa I sat on and my eyes were closed. My subconscious could feel his curious gaze on me.

"Look away Namjoon", I said and I could feel his gaze was still on me.

"Why didn't you call me when you got back?", he asked me and I looked at him.

"I didn't because our cultures differ, everything is poles apart--what's the point of discussing it now?", I asked him, slightly annoyed. He and I separately needed to focus on our careers and he knew it too damn well.

"Okay", he turned around again as his monitor showed a circle indicating that the programme he'd launched was loading. "It does makes me feel better that my better position in life doesn't changes your opinion on me. Quiet comforting", he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice but I chose to ignore it. The last thing I'd be doing is fueling this feeling in him by discussing this useless thing which wouldn't make any difference whatsoever.

"Is this the reason you wanted me to do this project with you?", I asked him and he swiftly turned his chair around.

"No, I don't take all this for granted. I love the stuff you do. I'm pretty updated thanks to how active you're on your social media", he smiled and I couldn't shook the thought of seeing my psychotic episodes on my Instagram, Twitter...everywhere. I'm pretty weird out there.

"I love it, the stories", he flased his dimple smile before turning his chair around again and I felt his warmth, like he meant what he said.

For a second I was taken aback with how tall he was from me and how good he looked, he'd always looked good but he was more mature now and much more reserved. "I'll be calling you often because I won't send it for pre-production without your say on the concept", I told him.

"I'll look forward to a lot of calls", he said. "I'm sorry this is taking a while", he added quickly and for some reason I couldn't look away from him, whose back was visible to me.

"No, take your time", I said, crossing my arms against my chest. I really wished he was a regular guy just making music but then I didn't. I wouldn't want someone to wish that for me. He'd earned all of it and I knew it.

"Look away ___", he said slowly. I could feel his grin through his words and I looked away shaking my head right and left softly. "It's, yeah it's playing", he turned around as the music filled in the empty atmosphere.

It was a slow song with a really fast rap. It was how Namjoon was, he contradicted himself too much. I instantly knew it was his writing from the way the words went and the wordplay came into role. I couldn't help but analyze the song because I was supposed to shoot and sketch a music video for it and at times like this I didn't really get to enjoy the art for the art and I hated it.

"How was it?", he asked me, his eyes fixated on me as the music faded. I wanted it to last.

"The only problem with it is that it ends", I flashed a smlie at him and he shook his head throwing it back.

"That's too corny even for you", Namjoon rolled his eyes but I was being serious. "You know I appreciate heavy critics", he said.

"I didn't find anything to criticize, the writing is great, the composition fits and it has a catchy vibe to it. I think I would listen a song like that on a drive or something? In your case a bicycle but yeah! It's a good song", I summarized my opinion. "Do you like want a trendy video?", I asked him.

"Anything that you want to do with it", he said and I gently nodded. Since it was given to me, I couldn't stop thinking about what to do with it.

"Can you stop thinking about it while you're with me ___?", he chuckled and I looked at him taken aback for a second and then nodded with a soft smile pasted on my lips.

"Your fashion sense has improved", I remarked.

"You look casual", he teased me.

"I, I've no fashion sense. I just wear whatever is there", I told him.

"I don't think so, your Instagram says different", he said.

"It's for the show Namjoon", I said.

"You're really not the type to do that, please don't deceive me", he beamed before he turned his chair around again to minimize the current tabs on the computer.

"You're the last person I'd be deceiving--", my words were cut from an incoming call from one of the producers of one of the shows I was working on. "I need to take this", I told him and answered the call while he just gave me a gentle nod in response.

The producer had informed me about the issues related to casting and the final draft of the script and I knew I had to go.

"Guess I'll see you later, bye", Namjoon said warmly as he smiled at me. The thing was he just knew and that always stuck somewhere.

"Bye", I left.

________________

"I, for one, disagree. C'mon how do you even call it an end?", I threw my hands in the air as we discussed it for the millionth time. I liked Su-ho but his thoughts on GOT made me want to kill him. He is the only person I knew who was satisfied with how it ended.

"I think it was okay, c'mon, you have to consider that the novels didn't end and as compared to that I think it was pretty good", Su-ho claimed while he sat on the bean bag in front of me, pushing it comfortably.

"Don't even start with the novels--", my words were interrupted with the sound of the doorbell, "--they didn't even do a good job interpreting it and I am offended by that. Look there novels", I pointed at my bookshelf, showing him my GOT collection which he knew as I opened the door and my head bumped against Namjoon's chest as he took a step in.

He chuckled as he held the back of my head with one hand and pressed my forehead with the other and rubbed it gently to ease the pain.

"What's uh, what's that? Is it iron", I mocked, pointing at his chest while he let me go from his grip and took his shoes off.

"It can be", he said. "But why were you jumping around so enthusiastically?", he asked me as he seated on the couch in front of Su-ho, as he greeted him and Su-ho greeted him back.

"Game of Thrones heavy discussions", I sighed. "This is Su-ho who's illustrating the storyboard", I told Namjoon.

Su-ho was starstruck and it seemed like it'd take him a good minute to recover and Namjoon was obviously used to it. I didn't call him at the office because a lot of people would want to see him then and it could be exhausting plus he'd a time limit on his hands.

"You know him, ___?", Su-ho widened his eyes at me and I nodded, suppressing my laughter seeing his chaotic ass behave like this.

"A little", I said and I could feel Namjoon's gaze on me. "Maybe a lot", I rephrased. I could see by the way Su-ho looked at me that he needed answers. "Coffee?", I asked Namjoon.

"Oh yeah", he replied and I stood up. "I've thought of two concepts, Su-ho please brief him on it and if you want anything differently Namjoon, you can tell him", I told him as I marched towards the kitchen.

Should I use the regular coffee mugs or should I use the better ones? I mean it doesn't matter anyway but still, it kind of does? I don't know. It just comes to me, the over thinking.

Ah.

I could hear him and Su-ho talking about the concepts faintly and I was low-key proud because I did work hard on them. I opened the cabinet to take out the better coffee mugs.

This is what happens when you stop drinking milk and stop growing up. I rested my hands on the kitchen pavement thinking about how many shoes with heels I'd because of my height.

I wasn't very short but I wasn't my desired height too. It was sad. I was the right person to sell the tonics concerning height because my insecurity would make me buy it. I exhaled heavily and turned around to find Namjoon behind me.

"Let me", my hips pressed against the marble pavement while his body gently pressed against my front, I could spot the mole on his neck while he calmly took the box of mugs out. "Okay?", he whispered softly and I looked on without responding.

"Thanks", I told him, hoping he'd get away from me because this had me feeling some type of way. I won't admit what type of way. That makes it worse.

"Anytime", he clicked his lips, taking a few steps back as I stirred the coffee and poured it in three cups. Should've used regular ones.

"I like the quotes on that wall", he said as I handed him his cup, taking the other two. A wall of my house was covered in post-it notes and other stuff. Some print outs of Van Gogh and Frida's works alongside other things.

"Yeah that? Thanks", I said, as I gave the cup to Su-ho. "Did you decide on something?", I asked, as I sat down and Namjoon just beside me.

"Yeah, the first one. It was kind of okay, he made some alterations so I would send it to you by...maximum tomorrow", Su-ho told me. "But why did you call him here for just this?", he asked me.

"You seem so concerned about his whereabouts", I glared Su-ho . "I told him I could just email him but he insisted on doing it in person", I looked at Namjoon who took a long sip from his coffee.

"Yeah I did, don't worry I was absolutely free", Namjoon smiled at Su-ho and I could see Su-ho fanboy-ing.

"You're so in line today", I pressed my words.

"Shut up", Su-ho eyed me. I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug feeling its warmth.

After I talked to Namjoon for a while about the shoot and he explained to me about their company procedure and how they usually did things. I didn't like doing music videos or commercials, there's a lot of time you're bound by what the music video demands and you've to stick with that so that was that. I usually preferred either cinema like movies or dramas, I hadn't done much but I had done a few and travel shows were my preference.

"I'll see you next time then", Su-ho politely remarked looking at Namjoon and he smiled and gently bowed his head. I walked with him up-to the door. "I didn't, what the hell, you could've given me a heads up?", Su-ho whispered slowly to me as I leaned against the door.

"I didn't knew you were a fan", I said and he playfully hit me on my arm.

"I still can't believe it, you've to answer my hot questions next time", he said and I nodded.

"Okay okay", I closed the door shut behind me, taking a seat on the far side of the sofa me and Namjoon were seated on. He was scanning my bookshelf and I was looking at him.

"Literally 70% of it is fiction", he said. I read a lot of fiction and he read a lot of nonfiction.

"You should read fiction", I said and he looked at me slightly pissed.

"I do read fiction just not thar much", he pointed at my bookshelf. "If you've to recommend one, shoot", he said.

"Recommend, uh, the secrets of happiness", I said randomly and his face sunk in annoyance. "It's not a book talking about literal secrets of happiness, it has a story", I told him.

"Ah okay...I will try reading that. Let me take your copy", he said.

"No", I said back in a split second.

"I won't lose it, c'mon, ___", he said. I couldn't believe his testimony on not losing it.

"Fine, but it's annotated. You'll owe me big time if you lose it", I said and he nodded vigorously.

"Your place is great", he said looking around the house and I couldn't see why, I mean yeah maybe but not that I find it great if I think from his point of view.

"I'm barely here anyway. I pay rent for no reason", I kept the empty mug in my hand on the glass table in front of us.

"That was your friend though, Su-ho?", Namjoon asked as he kept his cup, followed by me.

"Oh yeah! I met him for work but then it's been a while since I know him, it's been years actually and he's a friend now", I said thinking about Su-ho. I don't know why I bothered explaining. It's been a good five years since Namjoon and I hadn't been in touch and there was a little catching up to do.

"You've always had a lot of friends, don't you", he sighed as he sat cross legged on the sofa facing me. I do have plenty friends honestly.

"Kind of", I shrugged. His gaze on me made me sit back in a more cautious way as I fixed my posture. "Namjoon...", I called out his name when the doorbell rung and I was irritated. "Give me a second", I stood up and walked up-to the main door.

It was my neighbor who's mother had left their house keys with me and he was here to take it back. He thanked me for keeping it and walked up to his own flat which was in front of mine.

I closed the door shut and Namjoon was standing by the balcony seeing a cactus I had grown since I couldn't grow any other plant because I was never home to take care of them in case.

"It's cute", he said as he picked the potted plant and stared at it for a little while and I stood behind him and watched him see it.

"You know your pupils dilate when you see plants", I said and he smiled to himself. He kept the cactus back in its resting place and stared at me. "What?", I asked him.

"You were going to say something", he said, his voice sounded deeper then usual for a second and I licked my bottom lip in haste.

"Oh that, you know the alterations you made? I will directly mail it to the staff and maybe cc you because it won't need a second check anyway. I've to get this done a little early since I've--", he turned towards me and I took a step back but there was barely any space and my back was pressed against the wall, "--what is it?", I asked but it came out as a whisper.

"Here", he dragged his index finger across my bottom lip and there was something on my lip. I didn't really see what was on there because of his presence so close to me. My heartbeat had fastened and I could feel it. Something I didn't want to feel.

"Thanks, I guess", I said slowly and he flashed his dimple smile at me and in that moment he seemed the opposite of the dominant he was a few seconds ago.

"Do you know you look really good?", he said, as his fingers ran across my ear touching the piercings one by one. I regretted having three all of a sudden. "And I didn't intended to do this but ___ I uh", he bent over a little, his lips a few inches away from my ear and his breath was falling on my neck.

"Namjoon", I said, trying to not look at him. I knew damn well I couldn't be able to control myself.

"Hmm", his voice was so small and I could feel goosebumps all over my neck. His gaze on me was strong and I had jitters in my stomach.

"I, uh--let's not okay", I put my hands on his shoulder as he pulled me more closer with a jolt and I gasped.

"Do you really not want to?", he asked me. It was a while since I was in this close proximity of someone like this but my subconscious kept telling me not to. "I don't understand what you find so undesirable about me", he took a few steps back and looked away.

What?

"Do you think I find you undesirable?", I asked him, pressing my lips suppressing my smile. I couldn't get how could he change roles in a span of few seconds.

"Yeah, it's pretty evident really", he sighed, looking at the the far side of the sky at the horizon and I saw him sulking.

"It's not that, are you fucking dumb? It's just you know you shouldn't start things you can't take care of", I said. For some reason I've always felt a little hesitant with him. "But you're desirable enough", I added.

"Sudden validation from you, ah", he clicked his lips in mockery and I felt bad. The last thing I wanted was to look like I was playing hard to get. I didn't feel competent enough in my heart. "Let me kiss you", he said, taking a few steps closer breaking the chain of my thoughts and I hated being so much in control and feeling a little out of place.

I was back to where I was a few seconds ago, me cornered and he put his lips on mine and my body automatically responded. He took over me in a second. My hands rested on his back and clutched the fabric. His hands travelled below my hips as he pulled me upwards and my legs wrapped around his waist. He didn't stop kissing me for one second and I didn't want him to, as he pressed his mouth harder on mine and I bit back a moan. I could feel the heat in my body and every vein seemed to electrify. He walked me up-to my bedroom like he knew which suddenly felt foreign to me as he laid me on the bed, breaking the kiss and I was breathless, panting for air.

I didn't had any resort in me to stop. I didn't want him to stop. I couldn't care more about whatever that had me concerned for a while. He watched me look at him and his lips curved in a smirk. "Should I stop?", he teased me taking a seat on the edge of the bed and I looked away from him to the right side, scoffing.

I pushed myself up, my hands at the hem of the lose white t-shirt I'd on and for a second I hesitated at the fact that he must've seen better flesh than mine but I pulled it upwards exposing myself in front of him as his eyes went everywhere. "Do you want to stop?", I asked him, as I crawled over to him. He didn't object as I sat on his lap and took his face in my hands. I looked in his eyes. He looked beautiful. I traced the outline of his skull, his jaw as I pushed his hair locks that were on his forehead behind. "Do you want to stop Namjoon?", I asked him again as he held me tight, giving me my answer.

He tugged at my neck with his mouth leaving a trail of gentle kisses down and I could feel my nipples startlingly prominent beneath the black lightweight bra I had on. I clutched his hair as he bit my neck suddenly and I gasped.

He pushed me on to him, nearer but there was barely any space for me to come close and I could feel him all over. He messily kissed me before groping my bottom and I-I cut a breath in. He would take turns and be gentler a second and rough the another. "Namjoon", I called out gasping which fueled him even more. He looked at me and smiled proudly at how he had me without doing much.

He flicked the straps of my bra shoving it down exposing my breasts and I could feel my nipples harden to the point it was painful. I wanted him. I wanted him to touch me, more. The way my body responded to his touch was almost funny, how quick, how wet.

I patiently unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off of him while he looked at me with a gaze I couldn't quite make anything of, he just looked at me while he let me work on him. My hands touched his chest and my eyes examined his torso, his skin was warm and his gaze on me gave me confidence like he wanted me back as much I wanted him.

I was forgetting my own desperation for his touch as my hand traveled behind his back, trailing down to his spine and he looked at me as he cut a sharp breath in and I felt good seeing him giving in to me. His arms surrounded mine unclasping my bra in a second and he threw it off on the floor.

I half expected him to grab me and grope my breast but he swept me in his arms as his vaguely pink mouth pressed against mine and instead of hastily grabbing me, his mouth simply rested against mine and it was worse, much more intoxicating. I, on instinct coiled my arms against his neck.

As my tongue demanded entrance and he smiled before letting me, and in a second, roles were reversed, the romantic was gone. He took control and pressed his mouth harder on me with his thumb and finger pressing my nipple and my nails dug deeper in his neck. "Joon...", I on instinct called out, as I gasped for breath but he didn't let me.

He was hard against me and I grinded next to him which seemed to please him while he left my mouth, burning with a wanting for more while my sex clenched as he took control of my body putting his arms around my back and they were free to go anywhere. I wouldn't dare stop him.

A second later, he laid me on the bed and hovered over me before taking my shorts off in a whirl and pushed my underwear off me that it didn't seem reusable. I anticipated his actions but he pushed a thumb into my bottom without no warning and I clutched the sheets, a yell escaping my mouth. My fingers curled meanwhile his other arm grabbed my breast cupping it and a second later his forefinger and middle finger slipped inside of me and my grip on the sheets tightened.

"Shh", he hissed in my ear and I hadn't realized a moan had escaped my mouth. My whole body rocked in less then a minute and I couldn't control my voice, I gasped for breath and I moaned even louder then before. "I didn't take you for a screamer ___", Namjoon seemed amused while embarrassment washed over me as I laid exposed in front of him.

"Let me go down on you", I told him and he looked taken aback as I pushed myself up.

"Do you really want to?", he asked and I shifted closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I would love to", I told him. "Do you want me to?", I asked him.

"Yeah, I mean yeah", he said when his phone rang echoing in the room and his face flushed into irritation as he looked at me and I nodded gesturing him to take it. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. With every word he spoke, his irritation grew. He hung up the phone call. "Where's the wardrobe?", he asked me and my eyes pointed behind him.

Namjoon opened my wardrobe and took out a very lose t-shirt of his choice from my stack of comfortable clothes. He held my arms and slipped the t-shirt on me, pulling me close. He stroked my face and he smiled in my face which forced me to smile as well.

"Am I suppose to expect something from you or should I forget this?", I asked him as his fingers tucked the few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"You're supposed to expect everything, don't dare forget it", he whispered in my ear, nibbling on it and I couldn't help but giggle. "I want to talk to you but I've to go now and I hate it", he smiled at me.

"Okay, go", I told him and he chuckled before letting me off him and he wore his shirt back on.

After seeing him off and taking a shower, I laid back on the couch in the living room thinking about everything that had happened. I didn't regret it, I wasn't thinking much about it anyway.

The guys I'd sex with or made out with, I disliked them because of their narcissism. I appreciated my ability to find guys that were a-grade assholes. I've always had this feeling that I am lacking in some sense with other people. I look normal, like I should but I get this insecurity when taking my clothes off.

I didn't knew what Namjoon thought about it and asking him would be weird. No one who knows me like him would think I am this insecure or anxious about this stuff but then a major part of it has to do with my aura, I guess?

________________

I took a bite of the sandwich that I held in my hand as I walked around the second set just nearby to the first one. I stood afar, taking a good look, even though the storyboard fits the sights I still need to frame out a rough sketch work in my head.

I took another bite staring at the beach and the path to it and then back to the set that we'd build up by man power. It was pretty accurate in my eyes but I wanted to hear from my assistant director.

I took the walkie talkie out from the pocket of my denim and pressed the centre button, "Jae-chan, where are you?"

In a second he reverted, "Ah sunbae I am near the gripper".

"Come to the road that leads to the beach", I said, before shoving the walkie talkie down in my pocket.

The sea met the sky at the far point of the horizon and how the world is full of these illusions which are not real we know but we still believe. After all there's beauty in things that you don't get. Vastness maybe?

Sea and sky — the two melancholic blues.

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan broke the chain of my thoughts and I glanced at him before looking at the sea. His breath was heavy, I could tell he ran here.

"You could have walked, Chan-ah", I said, smiling. He was really young and passionate about filmmaking but also a little silly. He's cute.

"Ah it's okay. Did you need something?", he asked politely and I shook my head. I liked the input of many people on the same thing, it showed the number of opinions that could centre around one thing that you make in a different context which is then perceived in another.

"Do you think this is accurate in terms of the story board?", I asked him and he seemed lost in thought.

"I would say slightly better because the storyboard is still animation and this is real so I would say better. I'm pretty sure it'll be good sunbae", he told me and I could feel a smile flush on my lips. "You are nervous, aren't you?", he asked me.

"Yeah", I wrinkled my nose, turning around to walk off. I patted Jae Chan's back and he started walking with me.

"You don't have to be, and oh, he's here", he said assuring me and I knew who he meant by he.

My mind automatically went to the day in my apartment. Namjoon had messaged me after but he got busier with his work and I am not a text-er plus I'd a lot of things to do before I left Korea. It was, I didn't knew anything and I didn't want to think about it. I hoped he'd pretend nothing happened, please. But I knew he won't.

I sighed and as I entered the main set, around the vanity and food truck, the manager and Namjoon's staff members greeted me. After that, I mean impractically I wanted earth to open and swallow me. Living is hard anyway.

I'd a flight on the weekend, I'd to pack and I'd to get new boots but I'm just dumb because I'm trying to think of other things. I need a new nail paint, do I? I looked at my nails which were painted black. Maybe grey?

"Sunbae?", Jae Chan shook me and I looked at him. He gestured me to look up front and Namjoon was right there looking like Namjoon.

"Hi", I awkwardly waved at him.

"Hi", he flashed his dimple smile at me. His dimple smile hits me.

"You can get the makeup and hair done, I've a few things to recheck", I excused myself. This is awkward. This is so awkward. I hate it.

Even though I had that awkwardness lingering around but we were nearing to the end of the shoot which went really good because everyone worked so hard. It was mostly one-takes and the lighting supported the whole setting making it so easier for us to finish.

Moreover, it was a while since I had done a music video so it felt good being back on a set like this. Namjoon looked really good with the styling and although I knew the outfits pre-shoot, he still looked better then I'd imagined him to look which enhanced the whole vibe of the music video. He owned earthly tones.

That's why casting and styling is so important. Very much. Makes a gigantic difference.

"What's wrong with you?", I didn't notice he was standing next to me with a small fan in his hands while we prepped for the last shot.

"What's wrong with me?", I asked him, as I adjusted the frame in the main camera. I didn't want this conversation especially right now, especially here.

"I mean...you knowww?", I could feel his stare while I shifted the camera, something is wrong with this.

"I don't know", I said, without looking at him. I was unintentionally making him mad and nothing else.

"I was really scared that you'd say this and see, I mean, why can't you behave normal when I mention anything about us?", he hissed near me and I looked around. Luckily there was no one in our proximity to hear this conversation.

"I-I, Namjoon", I exclaimed, vaguely pointing at the setting hoping we could do this later and I could explain that I would love us but he needs to understand that I won't even be in Korea as much as he thinks I would be and that's why it won't work out.

"I don't care", he eyed me.

"I do. I care, okay? There's no us to begin with and I know I was stupid enough to ask you what I should expect out of, what would you call it, we made out. That's that", I tried being really slow and I could feel annoyance in his sight.

"Made out! Okay, okay fine. I can't believe I deal with you. You're the one who doesn't text or call or even respond to it and that's bare minimum ___", he pondered and I internally rolled my eyes.

I was leaving on the weekend. I was always leaving. That's it. "I don't have to and I have a life Namjoon. I've been working non stop all this time. I don't expect you to understand", I said, standing up from my seat while I called for the head DOP from the walkie talkie.

"You don't want to be understood ___", Namjoon said, grabbing me from my arm and stopping me. He wasn't wrong. A few eyes snapped and I forced a smile immediately. "I like you, I like you a lot. Deal with it", he walked past me.

Deal with it.

As if.

Very abruptly, the last shot rolled in and it was over. The music video was done in a day. It was originally a two day sketch but we had to narrow it down to one day because of Namjoon's schedule and it was worrisome because it did seem impossible but things went smoothly and it was successfully over.

I told Jae Chan to wrap the filming site, though most of it was done while I was present. I picked my bag from a table to leave, kept right ahead from the vanity. Namjoon had left, I guess. I wasn't sure because after the last shot he was angry. He had his jaw clenched all that time, he barely managed to keep it out on the music video.

He was like this, his anger was pretty evident and that hadn't changed.

I like you. I like you a lot.

I couldn't wrap my head around that thought. Did he like me all this time? It sounded pretty crazy to me. I had never thought about anything with Namjoon. He was a friend I could like but I didn't, I had never expected anything out of my acquaintance with him anyway.

"You ate?", his deep voice made me look at him who stood at the steps of the vanity. He hadn't left yet.

"No", I said. He had changed into his normal clothes, the makeup was gone but he still looked great. His natural complexion was shining as the set lights fell onto his face. It made me surer how Namjoon needed someone who could be there rather then somebody who's never there.

"Come eat something", he said calmly. He looked much composed then before.

"I am not hungry", I stated just when he darted towards me. He held me by my forearm, dragging me into the vanity which was empty except for us. A few dishes were laid out on the table in front of the small couch.

"Eat and leave", he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs in front of the mirrors fidgeting with his phone while I quietly sat on the couch. I just wanted it to be over but I'd no appetite so I kept staring at the couple of Italian dishes which were pasta, carbonara I guess, rissoto and also jjangmyeong. "Just eat anything ___", he said, without bothering to look at me.

"I don't really have an appetite", I said, throwing my head back and looking at the ceiling of the vanity.

"What you've is a habit of skipping meals", he eyed me.

I looked at him. "Do you remember everything? Like literally everything?", I asked him as curiosity brimmed in my eyes.

"You don't?", he asked me back. "Well, for me, yeah I do. I did remember every thing but I should probably forget now. I didn't really asked to work with you because I wanted something but I can't say I didn't hope", he locked his phone and kept it on the space in front him. "I mean, we did had something. We did have something a few days ago. You can't exactly call me a friend and I've never seen you as one. The moment you walked in trying to fix the mess on the set since then till now I can't say I didn't hope you'd look at me the same way", he said, bringing all the memories back alive, but it was true, I never looked at him the way he'd wanted me to, hell, I couldn't believe it one bit. "It's true", he said, as if he just read my mind.

It was, it didn't made sense to me. How could he? Why would he? I uh, I think shit's wrong with me because even now I can't seem to focus on someone who confessed their feelings and that someone being Namjoon from all people.

I remember when I was one of the assistant directors under the director for one of the most low-key and low budget project. They didn't had many resources and our firm wasn't doing well either. We always had to come up with hacks, unknown locations for shooting...it was always so hard. We didn't had any respect in the industry.

It was two companies in one boat at the end of bankruptcy and we were so young and such good friends. I knew the rest of the members too but I kind of had a certain vibe with Namjoon. He could get me without having to speak.

I locked at him, his face was fixated on me and I could like him, in fact I did love him not romantically, I just did. I had a lot of love for him. He was caring for the people around him and I loved talking to him. He never once made anyone feel like he was a celebrity back then and a global celebrity now well yeah. He did deserve someone who could be here for him.

He stood up and walked towards me and my eyes followed him. He took a seat next to me and I could see he picked a bowl up but I didn't see which one because I couldn't stop looking at him. Namjoon took a significant amount and extended it to me and I looked at the noodles for a second and then at him. He just nodded and I ate it.

It was good.

"Thanks", I said, wiping the corners of my mouth with my fingers.

"Do you want me to feed you all the way or can you eat your own?", he asked me.

"I will eat", I told him and he gave me the bowl so I could eat on my own. "You ate?", I asked him and he instantly nodded.

"You're going somewhere, aren't you?", he asked me and I felt as if I've just been struck with something.

"Hmm", I said, my mouth almost filled. "And, I...I want to tell you something like adults and clear it. Namjoon you know my work and I am always not here, never. It's useless. Trust me on this, it's not like that but you know you'll need someone beside you and I can't be the one", I told him, calmly, before gulping water down.

"I know that but I'm okay with it. In fact, we would go hand in hand better because I can't take you out on exotic dates as well. This is what you get", he vaguely gestured at the vanity and I chuckled and he warmly smiled at me.

After a second, I spoke much seriously then before, "It will be hard and you know that. It'll be frustrating. You could hate me".

"If you've tired it with someone before, I am not exactly happy knowing this, but you shouldn't compare me with some random dude with a peculiar taste in leather clothing", he rolled his eyes, shifting his back comfortably.

"Hey! Don't be mean just because you see stuff on my Instagram", I scoffed and he maintained his long face.

"No really, what do you take me for? You think you won't have time for me? I won't have time for you", he went on.

"Namjoon", I dragged his name. His tendency to be sarcastic at odd moments is unmatched.

"Don't call my name like that", he stared at my eyes.

"Like what?", I asked him.

"Like you can love me", he said.

"I...you don't have to be like this", I said, keeping the empty bowl on the table.

"Give me a chance then, try it out. I would wait for you I promise", Namjoon took my hand in his and covered it with his warmth.

"Will I be able to...wait?", I looked away from him, thinking about it so hard.

"___ don't think too much. I promise, we'll be fine", he said, his hands travelling to my waist and before he could grab it. I screeched closer to him. I cupped his face and attached my lips to his, while his hands held on my body.

________________

My relationship with Namjoon was better then I imagined it. I tried my best to be there for him and he was surprisingly almost there for me but it wasn't exactly easy.

It was months and months of hardships and Namjoon was more needy then I thought him to be, he needed a lot of assurance. I don't understand the notion that he holds of everyone wanting me so he needs to be extra careful. I still don't get that his insecure ass doesn't trusts his own members, he won't let me meet them at all.

He was really different. He shifted from dominant to romantic in one second. I loved that. I kind of missed it so much.

He held my hand I could feel it by the way his skin felt against mine, he whirled me around and in a second his hand rested on my waist as he urged me to walk next to him. He was in a perfect disguise and I looked at him. I could tell he was smiling beneath his black mask.

"See, this is why I don't trust other guys! How could you let someone do this to you in the midst of the road in a foreign country?", he asked me.

"No stranger would confidently do this to anyone in a foreign country", I playfully hit him on his leg and he stopped, pretending to be gravely hurt. "I can't believe you", I looked at him as I went with his act. I supported him in standing completely. In a second, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I missed you", he softly whispered in my ear.

"I missed you too", I whispered back, softly. I pulled him in an empty alley and pulled his mask down. "I need you to do something", I told him, nibbling on his ear and I could feel my skin feel the heat that it yearned for since a couple of months before him going on tour.

"Right now?", he asked surprised.

"Yeah, right now", I said and I could feel him harden against my pelvis.

"You are...so, not right now. Let's go to your hotel room. I'm still famous", he pulled me closer and I chuckled. He turned me around, pulling his mask down, he kissed me hard. His mouth pressed against mine. I held him tightly and he gasped. "I love you", he softly said before pulling his mask up.

"I, you", I held his hand again.

#bts #bts fanfic #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic

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wisteria-lodge · 3 years ago

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snake primary (lion model?) + snake secondary (rapid fire bird model)

I am pretty sure I am a snake/snake sorting, with my primary (burned snake) as a rock solid certainty. I am not doing so well on figuring out how models work, and if I have them. It makes me doubt my secondary sometimes. Let me give you a few examples:

Last autumn, I was making a lot of soup from scratch. I started with recipes, but pretty soon I was just throwing things together.

Definitely sounds like an improvisational secondary.

(I'm a Badger secondary, and my baker friends make fun of me, because I treat recipes like spells I follow them so exactly. I only recently learned that the reason you put put in salt in water is to make it boil faster. I'd been doing it, but I might as well have been putting it in there to banish the bad spirits.)

But I always made sure I had some kind of home-made broth to hand, and some kind of soup magic stuff (heavy cream, milk, cream cheese, etc.)

This could be rapid-fire bird (or a rapid-fire bird model.) You feel comfortable improvising, but only because you already know a lot about soup.

I only went back to recipes when I wanted something new or specific. Then I went and posted a kind of improv instruction for soup making (take some meat, any meat, sear it and and pair with some veggies, any veggies, etc.).

So far, I'm agreeing with you. Improvisational secondary, maybe some kind of bird model to give extra structure and support.

I train new colleagues. When I start with a new group, I like to have all the prep-work done so I can concentrate on the social aspects and not get bogged down finding the right worksheets, or shit like that. I plan my first few words, and if there is no better opening, I use them and go from there. I have a general structure of what I want to teach them, what methods to use and in what order. It is adapted from experience, and the more rigid guidelines we are given by our client. I am constantly tweaking it when I'm not training. If I feel my group needs something different, I will abandon the plan, let them guide me on a detour, and bring them back when it feels right. Somehow, it still works out 95% of the time, especially now that I have found my confidence and know it works^^

This sounds exactly like how I teach. And for me, what is going on is the bird model prepwork making me comfortable enough to just vanish into my Courtier Badger. I've only recently been learning that I can... relax on the prep, a little. That sometimes too much prep gets me in my head, and sabotages me a little. Like I can just trust myself in the moment, and things work out just fine.

I have found the shc system a week ago, and I have been obsessed ever since. I got curious because a friend mentioned it. They were really into it, and I like sorting people if the system makes sense. I dug in, got hooked, and finally found words to describe everything I had figured out so painfully about myself in the last few years. Especially my snake primary was such a surprise and relief, let me tell you.

It's a good system. And it's... uniquely able to talk about certain kinds of things.

I am thinking there is at least some sort of bird model here, giving my improv some structure?

Took the words out of my mouth.

I was flirting with rapid fire bird as a secondary, but now I have put it into words, not a chance. I like my (contained) chaos too much^^

So far, I don't have too much to add. It's all very well laid out, and well understood. I do like the dramatic structure that happens when someone writes in convinced their a Lion and I start going into why they're actually a Snake but hey. This is nice. This is mellow.

Let's talk about badger secondary model instead. Just to get the elephant out of the room: I hate hard work, it feels slow, dull, and like there should be a better method somewhere. But I know that sometimes, you just have to do it if you want to build a reputation, or you know you need to rely on the goodwill of your community in the future.

This is so like... Rapid-fire bird processing Badger. Just the grudging respect of SURE badger secondary can be a useful tool I GUESS.

I feel awkward keeping shallow contact with my colleagues, I forget if they have kids, and I have been experimenting with discreetly taking notes on what they value.

This is so Bird.

It's not very successful because I can never remember them when it's necessary, so I nod and figure it out by asking "knowing seeming" questions, anyway.

This is so Snake.

What does resonate with me is the part of "becoming what they need" making myself into the tool I need, making myself seem reliable by being relatable. I mostly start a one-on-one conversation by mirroring the other person's mood.

Courtier Badger and Snake secondary can look very, very similar - especially from the outside. This right here could be a description of either.

It is only recently, and only with people I know well, that I have found the seductive power of railroading them instead. I can now cut short a friends whining by summarising what they're saying in a blunt and charming manner, and make them smile instead. Not always, but now I know it works, I use it more and more often.

... but this could only be Snake. Doing this sort of thing consciously and on purpose is so huge and so key. Courtier Badgers do have to believe it, and so they have a way of vanishing that Snake secondaries don't.

And I think I am exaggerating my "go and figure shc out, and be loud and open about it on tumblr" part, because it's what feels right at the moment, but also because the friend who got me into it is a burned lion secondary. They like me charging in, taking it for myself, and they admire anyone who can be honest and vulnerable in public.

Very Double Snake. Using a specific approach, specifically for your friend. Also you say your primary is burned... but I'm not getting burned primary from you. But you're also not really writing about your primary, so.

I guess I am making myself appealing, not just relatable like before.

What a perfect way of describing the difference between Snake and Badger secondaries.

Huh. Fading badger performance as snake gets confident? With another badger performance for work that I do grudgingly.

Performance is right. Just a shallow thing you wear over the top, that barely seems there anymore. You work like Bird, not a Badger.

Now lion. Well, lion is... difficult and easy at the same time? I have to take charge, be the boss, and make split-second, straightforward right-and-wrong decisions when I am leading my group: Call out anyone who doesn't play by the rules (though I usually don't care much if it is not annoying). Decide on, and hand out, the appropriate punishment for someone being late, again. Deal with brewing conflict in a head-on manner. But that is something I am still learning, and I am not very good at it.

Some of this is primary stuff - WHAT you do "be the boss, hand out punishments" versus HOW you do it. It's sounds to me like you're building a Lion primary model over your Snake primary, which is normal. Snakes with safe people almost always model something else. (And I already know you've got a friend that's a Lion primary... Snakes do like to match their People.)

It's possible that you're also building a Lion secondary model, or that one of your Snake secondary masks looks a little like a typical lion secondary, but my take is that most of this is coming from a primary model.

I tend to let conflicts slide, trusting they will work it out among themselves.

I feel that this speaks to the water-like nature of the Snake secondary, and a desire to always go around the problem.

or at least be professional about it and not bring it into the training. Definitely a lion performance here, and one I get frustrated with fast because I am not very good at it.

I have my lion moments, like I described with my way of being open and vulnerable about shc here on tumblr. But I wouldn't do it if it didn't feel right, or more specifically like something I need to heal and get better. I know I need to be vulnerable to heal, and it's relatively safe here, in the anonymity of my internet persona.

Hmm. Interesting. I'm not getting Lion from you... if this is a healing exercise, maybe you're practicing existing in your Neutral state?

I have to write it all out, and some of it just happen to come out as advice for other people's asks. It would be nice if I get some recognition for it in the community, and I love the fact that my friends reads it and tells me they like it.

My take on that sort of thing is going to be annoyingly Badger, so I apologize in advance. For me it's all about consistency. Lay a foundation and then build, one brick at a time.

Now that I have written it all out, I think it's probably the most snake way of arguing myself out of any secondary model I could come up with^^ I guess I don't have one, or if I do, I am dismantling it because I need things to be simple for a while. I am tempted to post this on my own blog, but I know it will get a bigger audience with you.

Yeah, no Lion secondary here.

and maybe help someone in a similar situation. So I will be patient, and I thank you for inviting us all to use you as a sounding board for our own shc issues. I have to stop going through your likes, I'm ruining my obsessive fangirl/shc vibes tumblr with beautiful rl-things and creative human interactions^^

I do what I can. I hope I help. :)

Thankyou, @sevilemar for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #double snake #snakepri #snakesec #rapid fire bird #lion primary model

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ask-spider-man-61610 · 3 years ago

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The Infiltration: Part One of Three

To say that two shapeshifters stood in the basement laboratory of a government building wouldn't be quite accurate. One shapeshifter stood in the basement laboratory. The other could more honestly be described as meticulously sculpted into shape. The particles that made up his body were arranged into the shape of a standing man, held in place by static cling, but that wasn't really standing. It was a rough approximation of standing, just like everything about Flint Marko was a rough approximation of a human being. He'd long since gotten used to the fact, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.

The other shapeshifter, Reed Richards, leaned against a table that was great for projecting holograms but terrible for holding papers or drinks. Fancy and impractical equipment like this was one of the Cape Code Authority's most well-known features.

A third man stood in this laboratory too, off to one side. He was, in a way, the exact opposite of a shapeshifter. More on him later.

"I've taken some time to look into your request," Richards said as he tapped a few icons on the tabletop. "Here's the basics of my thoughts so far. A shell to house your nervous system and respond to electrical signals."

There was a sound like sand sliding down a dune before Flint began to speak. It had taken him a long time to relearn how to talk after becoming the Sandman; even now, it took effort to hold the shape of those granular vocal cords as he spoke in a deep and raspy voice. "Yeah. Y'said that last time, Doc. What's changed?"

Richards, in response, pinched an image on the tabletop and widened it out, his fingers stretching like rubber bands to expand the picture further. He raised his arm--he seemed to ignore his joints, the entire limb bending like a garden hose--and flicked one finger up, and a hologram rose out of the table's display to cast a soft white glow over the room. The hologram looked like eggshells glued to an Erector set, arranged into the shape of a bipedal form that lay on the table as if it were a stretcher. "What's changed is that I've done some research into actually making that shell. Take a look, I've drafted up a basic schematic for what it'd look like."

"And you decided it'd look like a Phantom?"

Richards snorted, but ignored the question. "The outermost shell is solid-light holography," he continued, making a vague swiping gesture through the air above the image. The eggshell faded out, revealing the bare animatronic beneath, which (judging by the sculpted face made of sand) Flint found even less impressive. Frowning, Richards looked down at the hologram again and added, "We could, given some finagling, calibrate it to resemble an actual human. But generating these 3D models is a pain, so I didn't bother."

Perhaps a more critical mind would have asked why, if 3D models were such a pain, they bothered to use holograms at all instead of pen and paper. But Flint's mind had never been an especially critical one; he was in no way stupid, but for all his life had tended to take things as they came. Instead he asked, "Is that why it looks like a Phantom? 'Cuz you're just recycling a picture you already had?"

"Not letting that go, eh?" Richards replied, the ghost of a smirk on his face as he glanced up at the Sandman again. He waved his hand again, and the computer misinterpreted his gesture and deactivated the projection of the suit. Rolling his eyes, Richards reactivated the hologram and said, "No. Well, partially. It looks like a Phantom because that technology is what a lot of my idea is based on. You see, what you're asking for is very similar to how the technology works anyway--an artificial support structure for a unique nervous system. The only difference is that your nervous system is two gallons of granulated silica, whereas the Phantoms are currently working with--"

And here he stopped, falling silent and stoic. His eyes, suddenly devoid of their smiling crow's feet, glanced Flint's way before his disgusting elastic fingers returned to typing on the touchscreen between them. The pile of sand, insomuch as it could, looked confused.

"What?" he said, in a voice like a seashell crushed underfoot on a beach. "What're the Phantoms workin' with? I thought they were just robots."

This was a common misconception, and Richards, like most of the Cape Code Authority, had a vested interest in upholding it. "Phantoms" were the colloquial name for Perpetual Holographic Avatar/Nano-Tech Offensive Monsters. Bipedal, autonomous drones with light weaponry, they were the foot soldiers of the CCA, the beat cops, the cavalry when an agent wanted reinforcement. They had been in development since the War of the Worlds had brought the Chitauri and all their technology to Earth six years ago, and some of the core technology of the drones was better kept unknown. What Richards had said threatened to jeopardise that secrecy.

The third man in the room chose then to speak. Stepping forward, his black cloak obscuring the entirety of his six-foot-plus form, he spoke with a voice that was digitally altered to be an octave deeper. "They are robots," he said, his white face mask moving like genuine flesh. "Their processors have a unique method of operation, though. They have some of the most sophisticated A.I. in the world, and their microprocessors are similar enough to a human's that it won't require too much tinkering to render it compatible with your...situation."

This was Scrier--or rather, a Scrier; one of many--and he was a champion liar. Nobody quite knew when he had joined the CCA or what level he occupied, but the executives of the organization seemed to treat him as a special case. He never answered distress calls, except to break up protests and strikes. He had no patrol routes, no assigned partners, and the only training courses he attended were the ones he taught--the ones about corporate rights and the agency's responsibility to them. Agents weren't allowed to try and investigate Scrier's identity. For all they knew, he was an undercover boss trying to hear his subordinates' opinions on him.

This was true, but it was a little more specific than that.

"Yes!" Richards said, gesturing towards the man gratefully. "Thank you, Scrier. I didn't know how exactly to put that. Yes, Phantoms run on a very human-like system. In theory, adapting it to suit your nervous system should be far easier than trying to create something out of whole cloth."

"I thought you were like a super genius," Flint said, sounding a bit annoyed. "You've invented flying cars and indestructible fabrics that let you go to space. You have yer own interdimensional portal. Why is this taking so much thought? Why does this need to be made out of other stuff and spit and prayers?"

Richards gave him a blank glare for a few seconds before sighing. "Okay," he said, leaning on the table. "First of all, I am a genius. I'm one of the smartest people to ever live, but that doesn't mean I know everything. I have to research and experiment. Any innovation, even one from me, takes time." He waved his hand again and the hologram vanished. "Second of all, remember: I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart."

"You're doing this because that was my condition!" Flint shot back, and the pile of sand swelled slightly and grew almost half a foot. He raised his arms; granules fell from the sculptures and scattered across the floor. "That's what I said when I joined this stupid super-cop thing! I hate being the Sandman, Doc! You guys offered to give me this--this job of disrupting protests and taking down unregistered super-guys because your bosses told me you could make me...not."

He glanced down at his hands. And indeed hands they were; years of practice had let him sculpt the sand at the end of his arms into an incredibly realistic form, with perfectly jointed fingers. You could almost see what must have once been his fingerprints. But as he looked at them a small stream of sand fell from them to the ground.

"I'm not expectin' you to make me human again," he said. "But just...something that'll make me feel more human. Something that feels like a body." His features hardened again, sand dunes into sandstone. "If you're just half-assing that--if you're just giving me something that-that makes people treat me like a Phantom and that'll break in like a week--"

And here he stopped. There was more than just a salary that kept agents of the Cape Code Authority in line. You had a lot of wiggle room as a superhero registered under them: you could slack off on the job, you could issue arrests for what you were pretty sure was a crime, you could stop and frisk anyone you liked, you could be sure that the beatings you gave to unarmed suspects were graciously forgiven by your superiors. But one thing you couldn't do was leave. Quitting the CCA was a surefire way to bring the coworkers you had once trusted down on your head; no longer registered, you had no more immunity than a child experimenting with the most basic powers did. Nobody wanted to find themselves imprisoned in Complex 42--stranded inescapably in the Negative Zone, tortured by armed guards and experimented on to replicate your powers, only protected from the hostile, annihilating environment outside the prison by a few wafer-thin force fields. But that was exactly where Flint's line of thinking threatened to take him.

"...Forget it," he mumbled, defeated, and as he slumped down slightly his face and body lost much of its detail.

Richards stared across the table with an uncomfortable air. Glancing down at the table, he tapped a few keys on it and the hologram vanished. With one hand he pushed his glasses up, and then his arm stretched the five feet across the table and patted Flint's semblance of a shoulder.

"Look," he said. "I can't make any promises. You're...unprecedented, Marko. The only shapeshifter of your kind. I'm doing the best I can to help you. But if I can use technology we already have to do it, then I'm going to. You're not my only job in the CCA. But I'm working on it." He took his hand back, and then needed a second to brush off the sand that had come with it. "...It's getting late. We ought to call it a day, I need to head home."

"Have to convince Susan not to walk out on you again?" Scrier suggested, already heading for the door.

Reed just dragged his hand down his face, his features stretching in his grip, and didn't answer. His eyes were bagged and his posture tired. Instead he began to trudge towards the door, each leg bending like it was made of plasticine, and followed by an animate pile of sand.

The light of streetlights and storefront signs shone through the windows as the three of them stepped out of the laboratory. About ten feet away, a custodian looked up from the floor he was mopping and gave the trio a quizzical expression, but the only one who paid him any mind was Scrier, whose expression was hard to parse through the prosthetic mask. Richards and Flint just began to head the opposite direction down the hall.

"Hey! Scrier! Don't you have some skulking to do somewhere else?!" Flint called back.

As the door to the lab swung closed, the janitor adjusted his grip on the mop and looked back down at his work. Scrier, after a second more of staring, turned away and began to saunter off.

It was a long hallway. They kept walking for a good long while before they turned and were out of sight. And for all that time the janitor continued to mop and silently sweated, waiting for them to notice that the security cameras weren't moving like they usually did. Even when the three Cape Code Authority agents were gone, the custodian continued to work. He worked until the vibrations of their footsteps through the floor had faded into the background tremors of the environment. And even longer than that, until the buzz of spider-sense in the back of his mind had subsided slightly, no longer quite so focused on them.

#Spider-Man #Spider-Man AU #Peter Parker #Earth-61610 #Cape Code Authority #Reed Richards | Mister Fantastic #Flint Marko | Sandman #Scrier #story #long #Odyssey Prelude

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unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe In Another Life...

Summary: JJ is jealous of Andrew Mendoza because he has Emily and she doesn’t. Loosely from 15x07 "Rusty". Major spoilers if you haven’t seen it yet.

Jemily fic, but it’s a little bit of a sad one. I apologize in advance for breaking any hearts :(

Also big thanks to @bridget19 for beta-reading this!!

Read on AO3

Emily walked into her office and saw a bouquet of flowers on her desk. She saw a little red card in the bouquet and looked at the writing on it.

Thinking of you. - Andrew

Reaching for her phone in her bag, she saw her boyfriend’s name on the screen. Of course. She contemplated answering after four rings and sighed before tapping on the red circle to reject his call.

Emily didn’t know exactly where her relationship with Andrew Mendoza stood. This was a whole new experience for her because, sure, he’s a good guy, but is he really the one for her? She never did well in long-term relationships because of her trust and commitment issues. Emily always felt like someone could never love her enough to stay with her in the long run.

She sat down in her chair and heard a light knock at her office door. It was JJ giving her a bright smile and walking towards her desk.

“Morning,” the blonde greeted. “Another day, another dollar,” she sat on the armrest of the chair in front of it.

“Yep. Good old fashioned government dollar,” Emily joked.

“I can see Garcia hit up her favorite coffee truck on her way to work.”

“I had to cut her off,” Emily said. Garcia was more energetic than usual talking about the show they both watched, something about a blonde agent getting injured and professing her undying love to her female boss.

JJ smiled and nodded. “Wait, don’t you have a budget meeting this morning?”

Emily checked her watch. “Uh, yes, I do.”

JJ nodded again and drawled out, “Emily…”

The unit chief looked up and raised her eyebrows, “Yeah?”

“You buried the lead. Flowers?”

Emily hesitantly nodded.

“That Andrew Mendoza’s a keeper…” JJ teased.

“Mhmm,” Emily forced out a response as she stood from her chair, grabbing her black binder and phone for the FBI budget meeting.

“Can’t be late for that meeting,” she told the blonde as she made her way out of her office, tapping her shoulder with the binder.

“Mhmm,” JJ responded with a closed-mouth smile, watching Emily leave. She looked back at the flowers Andrew sent to Emily and her smile quickly faded away. JJ observed them with narrowed eyes, gripping the back of the chair a little tighter and harder than normal.

For a group of profilers, rarely anyone noticed JJ’s jealousy towards Andrew. When it came to the team’s love lives, she’d always smirked because it was just too fun to tease them about.

She reminded herself on many occasions that she had Will and her boys. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her family and has always made them one of her biggest priorities in life. But JJ also knew she would be a lot happier, if she shared her life with Emily Prentiss.

God, to be married to Emily Prentiss.

JJ smiled wistfully at the thought of being married to her. She would be so good with her sons. JJ knew Emily wanted to provide the maternal care she never had growing up, and imagined her giving that to Henry and Michael. Emily was also very loving and always listened to JJ’s problems, every rant and issue she had.

JJ knew Mendoza was a good guy. He’s good for Emily. The blonde bit her lip and stood from the armrest she was sitting on. She looked at the flowers again when she neared the door and took a slow deep breath, sighing. After a few more seconds, JJ left Emily’s office in sadness.

----------------------

The next day, the team was on the jet, going over the case with Garcia on video chat. The BAU had been called on another case and they had an unsub decapitating male victims and collecting their heads. They looked through their file folders for more details on their unsub’s victims, and all of a sudden, the tech analyst chimed in with a comment.

“Shut the front door. Andrew Mendoza signed this report.” Everyone’s heads shot up at her remark. “Andrew Mendoza is Prentiss’s boyfriend. He’s the head of the Denver field office?”

“Uh, yes,” Emily reluctantly replied. “He has been for the past, uh, two months. Um, his daughter and ex-wife moved to Colorado a year ago, and he'd been waiting for a transfer so he could be closer to Keely. She starts high school soon, so…”

Emily felt like she had just divulged a little too much to the team, and kept her mouth shut after receiving the awkward silence from them. She knew the case was in Denver, which was where Andrew was, but she wanted to keep her personal and work lives separate.

“But you guys are, um, you’re good?” Luke’s voice broke through.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s all good,” Emily nodded. Well, it was a half-lie because she didn't know.

Spencer looked at JJ, then Emily, then back to JJ. He studied her facial expression go from surprise, jealousy, amusement, to heartbreak. He didn’t know if the others noticed, but he trained his eyes on her when Penelope had mentioned Andrew.

JJ had been shot by Everett Lynch’s daughter, Grace, about a month ago. While in the hospital, she had told Spencer the truth about her confession she made to the unsub who made her play truth or dare the week before: that she was really in love with Emily. JJ thought if she was about to die in that situation, she had already trusted Spencer enough to keep that secret. The younger co-worker figured it wasn’t meant for him once he saw how she kept glancing over at Emily at Rossi's wedding, especially when JJ paid extra attention to her during the twin flames speech.

JJ had her head down as she quietly scanned through the file again the entire time. She frowned and her eyes were filled with sadness and a hint of regret, Spencer noted. Practically rolling her eyes, JJ didn't bother listening to the team talking about Mendoza.

“JJ, Reid, check out the latest crime scene. Tara, Luke, go to the M.E.’s office,” Emily ordered.

JJ nodded her head towards Spencer, who nodded back. He noticed she masked her pain behind her eyes with a smile when she did. Maybe they’ll talk about it later.

----------------------

JJ and Spencer had just investigated the unsub’s latest victim’s house before concluding that they needed more evidence from eyewitnesses for information on his behavior. After asking a few people, the two drove their way back to the field office.

JJ was focused on the road in front of her and Spencer examined her body language. His friend was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles had turned white. She bit the inside of her cheek, and her eyes narrowed while her brows furrowed.

“JJ,” Spencer broke the silence.

She turned her head to glance at him, “What?”

“Your grip on the steering wheel is tighter than normal and the tone of your voice sounded controlled when you answered me, like you were holding back on something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Does this have to do with Emily and Mendoza?”

JJ rolled her eyes, still focused on the road. “If Emily’s with him, then good for her.”

“What about when Garcia brought him up when we were on the jet?”

The blonde agent had enough. She took a turn to the nearest vacant spot and parked the SUV near the curb. She turned the engine off and faced the younger man. JJ quickly clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Stop it, j- just stop. Please just… stop talking about Andrew, ok? I don’t want to talk about his relationship with Emily. I have to keep telling myself she’s happy with him and I have a life of my own now. So, I am begging you to stop,” JJ vented out to him. She felt tears pricking at her eyes towards the end of her rant.

“I was worried about you, JJ. I don’t like seeing my best friend hurt like this,” Spencer frowned as his eyes softened.

JJ shook her head to stop her tears from falling, but felt one single tear trail down. She bit her bottom lip, so she would not start sobbing.

“I- look, I’m sorry for snapping at you, Spence,” JJ sincerely apologized, rubbing her fingers in an attempt to soothe her worries. She knew he meant well and that he hates seeing her in pain, especially if it’s over the woman she loves. “It’s just that-”

JJ exhaled out another deep breath to compose herself. “There were flowers Andrew sent Emily, and I had to bring them over to her desk before she came in her office.”

The delivery man had arrived at the FBI building, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked around to see if there was anyone expecting them. He saw a blonde woman pass by and quickly caught her attention.

“Excuse me. Are you Emily Prentiss?” He read his clipboard to check the name.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry, I’m not her,” JJ shook her head and smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I got flowers for her from someone named Andrew Mendoza,” he gestured to the bouquet.

JJ froze for a second and she heard her heart shatter before responding with a polite smile, the one she used in her past liaison days. “I can leave them in her office, if that’s ok.”

“Thank you. Can you sign this for her?”

“Of course.”

After signing the clipboard and thanking the delivery man for Emily’s flowers, JJ took them and walked up to the brunette’s office. She held the flowers in her hands and frowned deeply. 'Things must be getting serious, then?' JJ wished she was the one bringing her flowers and not… him. She set the bouquet down on Emily's desk before leaving her office.

“What am I going to do?” JJ rested her forehead on the steering wheel, still gripping it. “Things seem to be going well with him and I don't think I'll ever make her that happy, not the way Andrew does. I really lost my chance with her 12 years ago,” she sighed in defeat.

“13 years, 1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, and 6 seconds, to be exact,” Spencer corrected her.

“Was I really that obvious?” JJ chuckled.

The doctor shrugged, “I’ve noticed you subconsciously having similar habits to Emily, like playing with your fingers and biting your lip when you’re nervous, or even dressing up similarly to her. You stare at her whenever she's not looking, for approximately 4.78 seconds. Your body seems less tense when you hear her voice, almost as if that’s the only thing that calms you down. Your pupils dilate and your cheeks turn red every time she gives you a compliment and-”

JJ cut him off with a laugh, "Ok, I think I get it."

"Oh," he quickly shut his mouth, not realizing he was rambling again.

“Spence?”

He looked at her.

“Thank you. For keeping this secret between us,” JJ said.

“It’s no problem. You are my best friend,” Spencer gave a small awkward nod.

JJ gratefully smiled at him and patted his shoulder before turning the engine on again to drive back to the field office.

----------------------

“Coffee?” JJ announced her and Spencer’s presence, holding cups for Luke and Tara. They gathered evidence that the unsub was dealing with alternate realities, and found themselves getting a little closer to finding him and what his motives are.

“Look, guys, we are banging our heads against a wall here,” Tara said. “I mean, Denver is littered with colleges, and we’ve already worked our way through most of the academics and scientists.”

“Well, you know what? We just need to take a step back and look at things differently,” JJ said. “The Mandela effect is a unique psychological construct, right? I mean, there’s got to be a good reason why he latched onto it in particular.”

“Well, creation of dissociative realities can often be a crutch for people who’ve suffered extreme trauma,” Spencer started with a fact that may be a clue to the unsub’s motive.

After a beat, Tara nodded and considered his statement, “Ok, let’s run with that. We’re looking for a loss triggered by an event likely caused by the unsub himself, and then this inability to accept this reality would be a defense mechanism for a mind racked with guilt.”

“So, unable to face reality, our unsub has created his own,” Luke connected.

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s killing fathers, though,” Spencer said after taking a sip of his coffee.

Luke shook his head and elaborated on the theory, “Unless it does. Say his own guilt is a major factor in a break like this. That would mean that he's picking out dads out of some kind of self-loathing.”

“This isn’t hatred towards his own dad,” JJ realized. “These men are surrogates for him. He’s angry at himself. Our unsub’s the father here.”

JJ recalled her colleagues’ words. She thought about the idea of parallel universes in that moment. Was she relating to the unsub? Had she subconsciously made an alternate reality where she and Emily were together because of her own guilt? It wasn’t the appropriate time to dwell on that thought, then again, when has she ever found the right time?

----------------------

The team had just finished solving the case, and were heading back to the hotel they were staying at. It was almost midnight and most of them were already in their hotel rooms. Emily had come back from visiting Mendoza and his daughter, Keely. JJ was in the hallway grabbing a small pack of Cheetos from a vending machine near her room.

Emily shook her head and smirked, Some things never change.

JJ was walking back to her room and smiled when she saw Emily, waving a hand at her. The younger woman decided it was the perfect time to talk to her since she wasn’t with Andrew.

She jogged up to the unit chief, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Uh, listen. I know it’s late right now, but… do you maybe wanna hang out for a bit? Just you and me,” the blonde quietly offered, placing her free hand into her pocket.

Emily nodded, “I’d like that.”

JJ gave a soft nervous chuckle before the two women walked to the younger agent’s room. JJ opened the door and held it open for Emily to step inside.

She lightly scratched her head and pointed at a plastic bag on the table near the TV, “Um… the team went out for dinner and I might’ve saved you some food, since you weren’t there.”

“Heh, thanks,” Emily said, acknowledging JJ’s considerate action and sitting on her bed..

The younger woman sat next to her. It was an openly awkward silence between the two agents, which was rare because they usually found ways to entertain one another. After a little while, JJ broke the silence.

“So, parallel universes, huh?”

“Yep,” Emily chuckled.

“Do you believe in all that?”

“Hmm?”

JJ grew quiet, “That there are multiple universes that have several possibilities we don’t really think about often?”

The unit chief looked at her hands for a moment before responding, “Sometimes, yeah. Do you?”

JJ slowly nodded in agreement, “Sometimes.” She was wringing her hands, something she did when she was nervous and didn’t know how to put things into words. “You know when my mom came to town, she told me about imagined futures and projecting yourself in them. Like a movie about how your life would play out, if you had things your way and it got me thinking.”

“About?”

She contemplated on her next words and squinted her eyes at the floor, recalling a memory a little while back. “Emily, do you remember when you said something about twin flames at Krystall and Dave’s wedding? That sometimes, it takes a parallel universe for them to be together again?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you even remembered that,” Emily said.

JJ silently nodded and gently took Emily’s hand in hers, rubbing small circles with her thumb. The unit chief looked down at their hands and furrowed her brows in confusion.

JJ slowly licked her lips before making eye contact with her. It’s now or never. “Do you think maybe in another lifetime… you’d ever give us a shot? You know… together?”

Emily’s eyes widened, registering what she just heard, “JJ-“

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry I told you this, Emily,” JJ regretted and tried to stand up, but was stopped by a hand gently pulling her wrist.

“No, it’s not that. It’s-“ Emily gestured for her to sit down. “I just didn’t know you felt that way about me."

JJ shook her head, “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know how to tell you this and I know it’s already too late.” She couldn’t stop the tears that were falling and she felt soft hands cup her face to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok,” the brunette soothed her nerves. “It’s ok, I got you.”

JJ leaned into Emily’s gentle caring touch. She raised her hands up to where Emily’s rested, and held onto them. “I- I talked to Spence the time I was shot and told him I was in love with you. I told him if things were different, I would have a chance with you. I sometimes think about how life would be if… we were together. I would’ve shared the boys with you, Emily. They love you and you love them. I would’ve loved being called your wife.”

JJ took a sharp intake of breath before letting out a bitter laugh and shaking her head, “You helped me through so much and came every time I needed you. You know, there were so many moments I kept wishing for something more, and it confused me because I didn’t realize how much happier I felt with you around.” She felt a salty tear trickle down her lips and sniffled, “I love you, Emily. And I’m sorry it took me years to say it out loud because I’m a coward.”

Emily listened to her and processed everything she just said. JJ really was in love with her all these years. It wasn’t just in her head. She was still silent and it made JJ want to run away in shame and guilt.

JJ’s eyes widened in fear as she rapidly blinked. She shook her head, mouth opening and closing as she tried to explain herself, “Emily, I- I-”

“Hey, breathe. Just breathe, ok, JJ?” Emily softened. She pressed their foreheads together to calm JJ’s nerves. “Just listen to my voice and look at me, ok? I’m here.”

JJ took deep breaths and listened to Emily while making eye contact with her through her eyelashes. The older woman wrapped an arm around JJ’s shoulders and pulled her close. “How about we lay down? Is that ok?” Emily suggested and JJ nodded.

The two scooted up to the pillows and Emily still held the younger woman close to her body. JJ felt herself relax in her warm and comforting embrace, eyes fluttering closed to take all of this in. Emily slowly rubbed big circles on JJ’s back and kissed her soft blonde hair.

After about two minutes, JJ lifted her head and blue eyes scanned Emily’s features. She raised her left hand to brush brown bangs away from her forehead. JJ silently asked Emily if it’s ok, and the unit chief nodded, knowing what her question was. The two always were best at silent communication with each other.

So, the blonde leaned closer and they both closed her eyes, listening to their nervous yet steady breaths. JJ closed the gap between them and their lips connected perfectly, like they were each other’s missing puzzle pieces the entire time. Emily tucked in a piece of hair behind JJ’s ear and brushed a thumb against her cheek.

Holding the back of her neck, JJ adjusted her body to straddle the brunette’s hips. Emily carefully sat up and cupped each side of her face. Both women thought the amount of passion in their kiss would make up for the time they’ve lost together. Tonight was the only time they really had the chance to be together, with no worry in the world. There was no Andrew, no Will, none of the members of the team or their troubled pasts. It was just JJ and Emily as lovers for tonight.

Emily reluctantly pulled away to rest their foreheads together, while JJ’s eyes were still closed and blindly chasing after her lips. The younger woman’s hand was still buried in dark hair as she slowly opened her eyes, licking her lips. She saw Emily’s pupils dilated from the almost heated kiss and chest heaving to regulate her breathing back to normal. Emily gave JJ a short and sweet kiss before JJ laid back down beside her.

“You know, I was kinda wishing we’d done more than just that,” Emily admitted quietly.

JJ nodded against her shoulder, “Me too. But we can’t.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” JJ said, her head now in the crook of Emily’s neck and sighing. “I wish I’d said something before.”

Emily bit her bottom lip and looked at the ceiling, “I wish I’d said something, too.”

“Maybe in another life…”

“Yeah," Emily softly said. She didn't need to hear the rest because she thought the same thing. Her hand made its way down to connect with JJ’s, squeezing it lightly to know that everything is going to be ok.

JJ glanced down at their joined hands and raised them up to her lips to kiss the older woman’s knuckles. “You know, I remember joking around with Spence one time that it was his and Penelope’s job to get Henry into Yale. I didn’t even realize you went to Yale. I guess I really was thinking about you the entire time, huh? I think I wanted Henry to follow in your footsteps.”

Emily raised her eyebrows in amusement, “Wow.” She blushed and looked down at their hands, hiding a small grin, “You really wanted Henry to be like me?”

“In a way, yeah,” the blonde agent nodded, running her thumb over Emily’s. “Well, maybe without the goth phase in high school…”

Emily playfully shoved her and JJ laughed. She cringed at that goddamn awful photo Garcia had pulled up once and teased her about, “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

JJ shook her head, smiling, and Emily groaned.

“To be honest, I’ve always imagined us living in Charlottesville, for some reason,” JJ stared at the ceiling, getting lost in her thoughts. “Maybe when we retire, we’d find a nice, stable home for us and the kids, you know? I think I want a place to finally settle down and not worry so much about what we deal with on a daily basis. Maybe we’d actually see our kids grow up and not miss out on that. There’s some wineries and vineyards we could go to… and this really good restaurant I could show you sometime, if we ever have a day off. Some places we could hike, you know if you’re up for it…” she winked at her.

Emily nodded, “That sounds nice. As for the hiking, that’s a definite no.”

JJ softly laughed and kissed her cheek, sighing contentedly, “What about you? What’s your alternate reality?”

Emily smiled, “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather’s home in the French Alps? I always thought that once we retire from the BAU, we’d go up there after our kids graduate high school. I kinda thought about taking his place up there after he died. You know, just to get away from things. Maybe you could ski with the kids and I’d be inside making us some tea and hot chocolate. We’d gather around a little fire and, I don’t know, make some crafty things.”

JJ nodded and lifted her head to look at her, “You still haven’t answered my question earlier. Would you have considered it?”

Emily let out a chuckle and pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, “I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

“I love you, Emily. I want you to know that,” JJ whispered, leaning back up to kiss her again.

Emily smiled sadly as she responded with, “Always, blackbird. I will always love you, too.”

Tonight was just them, JJ and Emily, no one else. They can worry about the rest tomorrow. For now, this was their chance to be together. A thought crossed Emily’s mind as she remembered her own speech about twin flames:

Twin flames. Two souls that are always meant to be together. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something. But the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart. They are a magic unto themselves, and together, they light the way for all of us.

Now looking back at it, she remembered how her eyes kept darting back to JJ’s at the wedding. The way the ghost of a frown was on JJ’s face as she squeezed Will’s hand in reassurance, or how JJ snuck a little smile at Emily when she stood in between her husband and her long-lost lover. The following events when JJ was shot, Emily remembered how her heart rate increased on the monitor once she entered the hospital room to check up on her.

Was Emily so blind to realize that JJ loved her back? She had missed all those signs JJ had displayed over the years. They could have been together, if only both of them said something sooner.

This was their time, their time alone. This universe gave them this night together. Only in another life, would they be together for certain.

#jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years ago

Note

This might be a bit of ramble that’s looking far too deep into something that might actually be quite small… but;

One of my favorite parts of this last chapter was Corin’s line about Din being ‘a bit of a control freak.’ While, in the moment, it comes off as a sort of throw away comment, this line feels like a visualization of a topic that runs far deeper - like a tree with an incredible root system hidden far beneath the surface.

This line is definitely important for a multitude reasons; it represents a certain amount of growth and progression in Corin that’s been building and continues to build throughout the story - he now feels comfortable enough to tease and joke about Din without fear of rebuttal or insult, signifying a feeling that he’s now coming to terms with: Din is in this for real and isn’t going to just throw Corin away for some small reason.

However, more so than just an illustration of growth on Corin’s part, I feel like this line represents a facet of the story that hasn’t ever been said out loud, at least so succinctly, until now - Din’s issues concerning control or a lack there of.

On the surface, this seems fairly obvious - Din has been shown time and time again to take control when situations become chaotic or dire; issuing commands, piloting the ship, stepping up to the plate when others hesitate, etc.

But I think a deeper part of this issue of control is connected to emotions and mentality, and Din’s fear regarding this;

Din, while not quick to anger, is nye uncontrollable once he does and this obviously bothers him. As someone who feels the need to be in control in order to feel safe and know that those he cares about are safe, the knowledge that he himself cannot control his anger and his actions when he is angry is terrifying and humiliating. He carries a lot of regret regarding his actions towards Paz on multiple occasions and has admitted openly to his problems of becoming angry when he is frightened or frustrated.

He’s had so little control throughout his life, between the loss of his parents and village, being forced into an adoption by Mandalorians who just didn’t fit, and losing his teacher and father figure without being able to do anything about it. It is only once Din is older that he is able to gain some semblance of control over his own life, striking out on his own and taking over the role of Beroya, and then more so after finding the Child and becoming a father. He can control his ship and the bounties he takes and the choices he makes outside the Covert, so the lifestyle is appealing, albeit lonely and alienating. As a father, his ability to maintain control over his credits, his life, and his wellbeing translates to a safer life for his child, so that control becomes even more important.

It’s why, when the Child becomes less and less able to control his abilities, Din is terrified and even considers (if just for a moment) giving the Child to Skywalker, if only to help the kid learn control.

This is then contrasted by Din’s willingness to give up control when it comes to more positive feelings and relationship; namely with Corin.

I think it says a lot about their relationship that Din is willing to relinquish control for Corin’s sake - not when it comes to protecting him and thus commanding him to stay out of battle and such, but more in terms of Corin’s wants/needs and happiness. He defers to Corin when it comes to personal choices, such as progressing their relationship, initiating intimacy, and matters regarding Corin’s past and family.

We know it’s painful for Din not to have control and not to move forward with the relationship when he so desperately wants to, but it speaks to his own resolve to change and grow as a person that he gives the reigns to Corin and allows him to lead.

(This is illustrated even more… ‘graphically,’ if you will, in Touch and Taste, where Din is shown time and time again to relish in a lack of control when in comes to being intimate with Corin; ie, wanting to be held down/manhandled/etc. I think is says a lot that something that is normally so painful for Din can become something that brings him so much pleasure when framed in a more positive light.)

This, of course, is all placed so nicely into one little line, which comes on the tail end of Din’s most extreme experience in lack of control: being frozen in carbonate and literally stripped of all sovereignty.

...anyways... sorry, that was... a lot...

- Ort

Forgive me, dearest Ort, but I have been hoarding this for a little while because I loved having it pop up to greet me in my inbox. Would it be possible for me to move into that brilliant brain of yours? You see things so clearly and put it into words with an eloquence and clearness that leaves me in awe.

While blood-loss and a severe concussion is leaving Corin's brain more than a little scrambled and his inhibitions lowered, it is absolutely true that he would never have dared to joke like that (no matter how disoriented he was) unless he believed that Din wouldn't punish him for it.

And you are so 110% spot on with your analysis of Din that I've tried to conjure up something as a response but there is honestly nothing I could add that would improve anything because you nailed it PERFECTLY! *flails* His control issue, the roots of it due to his past, his shame of failing to control his anger (especially the incident with Paz) and how he has struggled to deal with this and having a family... Again, you sum it up and explain it so well it gives me goosebumps.

And I have to really underline what you also pointed out; how Din actually does hand over control to Corin when it comes to personal things. Because, yes, while Corin has had a lot of personal growth during the series, Din has too. He has gone from an angry, solitary creature to being a friend, a more stable brother, a caring boyfriend and deeply devoted father. The fact that Din is not only able to hand over control to Corin during their Touch and Taste moments but actually enjoy it? Like, a lot? It screams how much Din trusts him. He 'is' a control freak, which is exhausting, so him being able to voluntarily relinquish control to a partner that is definitely something he's never experienced before.

It certainly underlines the horror he felt during his helplessness in this last chapter, yes...!

Every time I read your gorgeous analysis, I want to write a huge essay because I'm so happy that what I tried to get across has come across so well, but my words fade compare to yours. You are a linguistic genius as well as an amazing art creator! And forgive me for hoarding your words, but I loved them soooo much <3 <3 <3

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aliendes · 4 years ago

Text

Natural Borns - Chapter Four

Banner made by @thebannershop

Series info/genre: Angst, fluff, (possible) smut NSFW due to darker themes

Pairings: ot7 x fem reader (eventual)

Warnings: mentions of sadness, indecent thoughts? maybe, if you squint. it gets a little steamy, I suppose, but mostly just fluffy sadness, if that’s a thing. This series will have different trigger warnings listed for each chapter (if there are any), but as a whole, this series will include violence, mentions of depression & other mental illnesses, cursing, abuse, drugs/alcohol, some shitty medical descriptions because i am NOT a doctor, self-esteem issues, fluff, and possible smut in future chapters (but that’s undecided). i will add more warnings/tags in the future if there are any.

Description: In the year 2613, over half of the world’s population are what scientists consider ‘designer babies’. YN is a small town girl who is a true natural born, someone born naturally without he help of a lab or gene splicing. Her DNA is greatly sought after, but what is she willing to do to protect it?

Word count: 8k~ (whoops so sorry. if you like longer chapters like this, let me know!)

A/N: *deep breath* ok here is chapter 4. things are starting to heat up, but i cut this chapter in two because it was like over 12k long.... i go back to work tomorrow, so updates may start slowing down, but i’m hoping to post updates every Sunday night. i was feeling a little bit bogged down last week, not seeing as much influx with chapter three than i have with the other chapters. if you enjoy reading, please reblog so others can see it, too. thank you, as always. xx - Des

Updated: 8/9/2020

But the second he took one look at you, standing outside, wet and bloody, saw the look in your big beautiful eyes as he so heartlessly demanded things from you, he knew he stood no chance.

Yoongi sat in his makeshift office on an old torn recliner they found in the warehouse. Surprisingly, the warehouse had been decently furnished when they found it. Granted, it was all old, worn furniture, but furniture nonetheless. The building was incredibly old, but it was also very large and had a lot of empty rooms on two levels. The entire place was made out of concrete, meaning it hasn’t seen much weathering over the years. It was a place they could call home for now.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and stared at his beloved laptop in front of him. He wasn’t trying to think about you, no, in fact, he wanted nothing more than to erase the memory of you. Try all he might, his thoughts kept wandering back to the scared, small girl he saw earlier tonight. He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, letting his head loll back.

The blonde man was snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps outside his door. He picked his head up and spun around in his seat right as Hoseok came through the doorway.

“Hey,” Hoseok said, leaning against the doorframe, “I heard they found her.” His tone was indifferent, not happy, nor sad. Hoseok didn’t really have an opinion on you yet, voicing to Namjoon he didn’t really mind either way if they found you or not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Yoongi asked the red head knowing he hadn’t, as his demeanor would’ve changed the moment he did.

Hoseok shook his head, confirming Yoongi’s suspicions. “Good,” was all Yoongi said in response.

Hoseok gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. A bright grin started to take over his face as he took in the disgruntled look on Yoongi’s. “Are you letting her get under your skin that quickly, Yoongs?” He asked the older man in a teasing voice. “Is that why you’re hiding away while they fix her up?”

Yoongi’s blonde head snapped up at Hoseok’s words. “What do you mean ‘fix her up’?”

Hoseok’s smile started to slowly fade from his face, leaving a knowing smirk in its place. “She was pretty banged up from what Jungkook said. Poor boy was distraught when he came running into my room earlier.” Hoseok watched Yoongi’s face closely as his lips pursed into a thin line and he tried to act as if he didn’t care about you. Hoseok could see right through him.

Yoongi tried to keep his breathing steady and stared Hoseok right in the eye. “Who cares,” he shrugged as he turned back around in his chair and started typing away at his laptop.

“Who cares?” Hoseok asked rhetorically, “I think you do.” The red head walked over to Yoongi’s chair and put his hands on the back of it, pulling it down a bit so he could look into Yoongi’s eyes. He raised a questioning brow at the hacker, waiting for some kind of response.

“I don’t care about her,” he scoffed, “I don’t even know her.” Yoongi looked away from Hoseok as he spoke, knowing his closest friends would be able to see his lie. He didn’t want it to be a lie, what he was saying he wanted wholeheartedly to be true, but he knew it wasn’t. Why did he care about you? He really didn’t know you. But as Hoseok chuckled and walked away from the chair with a breathy ‘yeah right’, Yoongi’s thoughts just drifted to you.

“Please stay still,” Jin pleaded with you for the third time. You were currently laying on what you assumed was his bed while he took a look at all your wounds. He was looking at your bruised, and possibly fractured, according to him, ribs. It was painful and you weren’t sure how he expected you to stay completely still.

You had been laying here for the last twenty minutes, staring up at the ceiling, going over your conversation with Namjoon prior to letting Jin take a look at your wounds. You had learned that the five of them had been staying here for the last three weeks. They stumbled upon the place when exploring the surrounding forest. It was devoid of life, but a lot of furniture and supplies had been left from workers or from kids who threw parties here in the past. They made it into a base of sorts, where they could live and work. Work, you learned, was mostly Yoongi trying to hack into Big Hit’s, and other companies, systems, while Namjoon dealt with contacting people and said companies to get more information. Apparently, they had found out about you through Jimin, who had overheard some of the lab techs talking about a female natural born living on the outskirts of Seoul. You still weren’t certain what exactly made you all ‘special’, but Namjoon had said it had something to do with the markers in your DNA that made you desirable to these designer baby companies.

Namjoon had also told you that they were planning on going to Big Hit soon, in hopes of getting Jimin and Taehyung out. As they helped you limp to Jin’s room, he told you that he and Jungkook were going to help Yoongi and Hoseok with the planning tonight, and told you to get some rest.

When you first got to Jin’s room, you were pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of it. For an old warehouse, they really tried to make it feel homey. Seokjin’s room was small and looked like it used to be some kind of office or file room. There was a small double mattress in the corner, which you were currently laying on, a small desk on the opposite side of the room, a small wooden end table, and a couple of backpacks and duffle bags laying about. While everything in the room looked old and worn down, it still smelled nice. It smelled like Jin, like pine and soap. Speaking of soap…

“Hey - how do you guys have lights and running water here?” You were curious, previous experiences made you think this place was totally abandoned.

Jin looked up from poking at your ribs, “Oh - Yoongi. He was able to get the electric and water companies to turn stuff on under a fake name,” he trailed off after noticing the apprehensive look on your face, “I know it’s not the most ethical way to go about things, but we don’t really have much of a choice right now.” The solemn look on his face told you that he regretted their actions, but truly had no other choice.

You nodded at his answer and jumped a bit when he went back to putting cream on your ribcage. “Please - stay still YN.”

“Sorry, sorry. It just hurts,” you groaned out and he finished his work. Jin let out a short sigh before pulling your shirt back down your torso. He picked up one of your hands and started to unravel the bandages to clean and rebandage it.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quick,” he gave you a quick smile and gently ran the back of his knuckles along your bicep. You tried to ignore the way his action made you feel, he was just trying to comfort you, right? He was a caring person, and he probably just felt bad seeing you in pain. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You went back to staring at the ceiling, biting the inside of your cheek and Jin disinfected your cuts and scrapes. The feeling of his hands on you leaving you confused.

Once Seokjin had finished tending to your wounds, he gave you an old t-shirt and some sweatpants to change into before giving you a little privacy. After you had changed, you hobbled back over to the mattress and sat down. You stared around his room for a moment, finally letting the events of the day sink in.

You inhaled a deep breath as you thought back to everything that had happened. In just a few short hours, you had met these strange men who took you out to a forest and made you question your entire existence, witnessed your father make some kind of deal or exchange with a man who was likely trying to take you away, and ran away from your life, your family, and your friends. You didn’t even know who you could trust anymore, aside from probably Mina and Woo, but who knew when, or if, you would ever see them again. The thought alone made tears prick at the back of your eyes. You looked up to the ceiling to try and stop the hot tears from falling, to no avail. What were you getting yourself into?

As you felt a tear roll down your cheek, you heard a knock at the heavy door of Jin’s room. Quickly, you wiped the back of your hand at your face with a sniffle, before telling whoever was knocking to come in.

To your surprise, it was Jungkook who walked through the door, not Jin or Namjoon like you had expected. You blinked owlishly up at him for a moment as he shut the door and ventured into the room. He took a few steps in your direction, hands behind his back, and looked even more shy than you had seen him earlier.

“H-hey, noona?” He timidly asked, eyes locked on the floor.

Your eyes softened at his hesitancy. You made a sound of affirmation, urging him to continue speaking. Slowly he brought his hands from behind him back and extended them in your direction. He was holding a water bottle and a container of what looked like pain relievers. “Jin-hyung wanted me to tell you to take two of these,” he started, walking towards you with his hands outstretched like he was feeding a tiger, “and to drink the whole bottle.”

You gave Jungkook a small smile as you took his offering. He seemed so sweet in that moment, you couldn’t stop yourself, “Jungkook?” Your voice made the poor boy jump a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw your smile. His big doe eyes somehow got slightly bigger as he nodded his head at you. “How old are you?” You asked him, head cocked to the side.

“Twenty two,” he said easily. He’s only a year younger than you, it was odd to you he was so timid, almost childlike at times. You hummed in approval. You truly did want to get to know these men, and Jungkook seemed like such a sweet guy. He was shy, but you could tell he had a kind soul. You wondered what had happened to him to make him so quiet. You hoped you would find out with time. You had a sort of affinity toward him. Maybe it was because he had literally carried you through a forest without so much as a complaint. You weren’t entirely sure.

The boy hesitated for a moment before turning around to walk out of the room. Just as he was about to reach the doorknob, he stopped and turned around to face you. “Noona?” His voice was so small, you almost asked him to repeat himself. Instead, you made a noncommittal noise, urging him to continue. “How old are you?” You wanted to coo at how cute Jungkook looked right now. Cheeks rosy, head slightly cocked to the side, eyes wide with mirth, almost like he was thankful for a reason to speak to you.

You gave the boy a bright smile before answering, “Twenty three.”

Jungkook stared at you for just a second longer, before nodding once and leaving the room.

“Who the fuck is Pearl?”

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up from the game he was playing on his phone.

“Are you even listening to me Hobi?” Yoongi was aggravated, to say the least. Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jungkook brought you to their base last night and he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep. Namjoon brought him your phone, asking him to remove data from it so it couldn’t be tracked. He did so immediately, but the damn thing was burning a whole in the back of his head while he tried to sleep on the old, black leather couch in his room. Eventually, he got up from tossing and turning, and decided - against his better judgement - to look through the device. He knew it was wrong, knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he didn’t particularly care for you. Besides, he was curious, who could blame him?

The red head, currently sitting upside down on Yoongi’s couch, just huffed in response. Yoongi just rolled his eyes and spun around in the old, squeaky rolling chair. He had your phone open on his desk. It was early in the morning now, he figured you and the rest of the boys, aside from Hoseok, were probably still asleep. Hoseok tended to be an extremely early riser, yet still went to bed late at night. Yoongi never understood how he had so much energy with so little sleep.

Yoongi had already looked through your apps and photos. You didn’t have any social media that he could tell. Your apps were incredibly boring, just a few games and a notepad app that he found some of your notes on. Mostly things like grocery lists and dreams that you had. Nothing too interesting. Your photos weren’t very exciting either, mostly pictures of trees and fruit. You had some photos of your mom and dad and a couple of animals he assumed were yours. You seemed to live a pretty boring life, based on what was on your phone. The cynical side of him wanted to tell himself this meant you were a boring person, but he knew that was an unfair assumption.

The last thing Yoongi decided to snoop through, were your text messages. While he hadn’t found much there, aside from conversations with your mom, dad, and a group chat with someone named “Mina” and “Woo”, he did notice how everyone seemed to refer to you as ‘Pearl’. Aside from when your mother called you by your name yesterday, you were almost always referred to as Pearl. This piqued Yoongi’s interest, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe this was evidence as to why the others shouldn’t trust you? It’s a simple nickname, but Yoongi was suspicious of you from the beginning. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew he was looking for reasons to hate you, to make the others hate you.

Yoongi nearly jumped straight out of his skin when the door to his room was swung open with such ferocity it slammed into the wall. Hoseok jumped straight up from the couch and Yoongi nearly fell out of his chair at the noise. “Jesus kid!” Yoongi yelled as he righted himself.

Jungkook had the graciousness to look ashamed as he entered the elder’s room. “Sorry hyung, I- I didn’t mean to,” he murmured without meeting the eyes of his older friends.

Hoseok sighed and relaxed a bit before pushing a hand through his bright locks and announcing he was going to ‘find something better to do’. Jungkook nodded at him as he left and took Hoseok’s previous spot on the couch. Yoongi surveyed Jungkook as he sat down. He looked tired, like really tired. He could see the small bags forming under the youngest’s eyes, a purple tint to his nearly perfect skin. Yoongi also noticed how skinny the kid was looking these days. He narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You doing ok, kid?”

Jungkook lowered his head into his hands and rested them on his knees, shaking his head back and forth slightly, “No hyung. I- I miss them,” Yoongi could hear the tears that were threatening to fall. He always did have a soft spot for Jungkook. He rose from his seat and sat down gingerly next to Kook on the couch, making the leather creaked beneath him, and slung his arm around the dark haired boy.

“I know, I miss them too. We all do,” he bagan, running a soothing hand up and down Jungkook’s upper arm, “we will get them back, Jungkook. I promise.” Jungkook lifted his head and looked at his hyung, eyes glazed over. He believed him, he really did, he just missed his best friends.

Jungkook nodded his head as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Yoongi thumbed at the younger’s lip sweetly, prompting him to release it. He knew Jungkook’s stress, he understood it. He missed the twins too, and he was working his hardest to get them back. Soon. He could feel it.

Last night had gone about as well as you thought it would. After Jungkook left you alone, Jin never returned to his room. You took the painkillers they offered you, but you thought for sure someone would be back to check on you, and you didn’t feel comfortable enough to wander around the place. You also felt a little bad for taking Jin’s bed when he had been so gracious to you. So after a while of waiting - and mentally hoping - for someone to walk in, you tried your hardest to fall asleep, to no avail. You tossed and turned in Jin’s small bed for what felt like hours, but you didn’t really know how long it had been. There was no clock in the room, you didn’t have your phone, and there were no windows. You guessed you finally fell asleep sometime in the early morning and had a very short, fitful rest before Jin was coming in to wake you.

“YN?” You heard Seokjin’s soft voice from the doorway. You blearily blinked away sleep as you tried to fully regain consciousness. As you rolled over in bed to face the door, you saw Jin standing there with a plate of something that smelled absolutely delicious. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were, but your stomach was beginning to rumble at the sight of food. You remembered the last time you ate anything was yesterday morning at breakfast.

Jin walked a little further into the room and sat down at the edge of the bed. He wanted to laugh at how entranced you were by the food in his hands, and at the erratic way your hair was sticking up. “Hungry?” He asked, arm outstretched towards you with the plate. You let out a small yawn and reached your arms above your head with a small pout. The large t-shirt you were wearing - Jin’s t-shirt - rode up slightly as you stretched and Jin thought you had to be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. As you finished your much needed stretch, you nodded your head with one eye open, taking the plate.

“Thank you, I’m so hungry,” you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep. Jin’s plump lips upturned into a bright smile as you started to eat a piece of toast from the plate. “You’re able to cook here?”

“There’s a small kitchen,” Jin nodded as he spoke, “it looks like it was an old staff lounge or something? We aren’t entirely sure what this building used to be, but it seemed like some people used to live here. There were beds, couches, even an old television when we got here.”

Now, feeling a little more awake, you nodded along with Jin, “Where do you get the food?”

Seokjin didn’t even miss a beat before answering, happy you were coming out of your shell a bit, “I go to the market at least once a week,” he smiled, “I take Jungkook with me sometimes…” he started to trail off a bit, looking away from your eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “That’s actually how we found you.”

You stopped chewing, mid-bite of scrambled egg, “Found me?” You mumbled, mouth full.

Jin nodded, looking bashful, “Jimin told us he overheard people at the lab talking about a girl, a natural born living in this town. We honestly didn’t think we would find you here,” Seokijn rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, still avoiding your gaze, “We came out here and found this warehouse, it ended up being perfect for us to stay in,” as he continued his eyes finally met yours, he mentally noted how cute you looked, cheeks puffed out with food staring at him, “we needed food, so me and Jungkook went to the market. When I saw you, I knew.”

Your stomach was doing flips at Seokjin’s admission, and you weren’t entirely sure why. They were harmless words, maybe even a little reassuring. They weren’t stalking you, they happened to stumble upon you. So you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so shy. His words almost sounded like a love confession you would hear in a blockbuster movie about soulmates. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly as you finally swallowed the eggs. “What do you mean, you knew? I don’t remember seeing you, or talking to you,” you prodded for some more information.

For a moment, Jin just stared into your eyes, and you thought he wasn’t going to answer you. Then, his plush lips parted as he quietly murmured, “Well, YN, you’re breathtakingly beautiful. I hope you know that,” he never broke eye contact as he uttered his next words, “and now that I’ve gotten to know you more, I can say you have a beautiful soul, too.” You were reeling. Were you the female lead of this made for TV movie your head conjured up?

You stared back at Seokjin with wide, glazed eyes, lips slightly parted in shock. No one has ever said anything like that to you, aside from Mina telling you how beautiful you were and how jealous she was of your skin. Jin was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the world, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel incredible. You were high on his attention, you loved the way your stomach was erupting with butterflies.

You were still seated on his bed, legs crossed and hands sitting in your lap, food forgotten next to you. Seokjin was still staring intently into your eyes, with an intensity you’ve never felt before. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his hand and went to lightly brush his knuckles against your cheek bone. The action made you flush, eyes closing at the soft feeling of his hand. Just as you were leaning into his touch, a soft smile on his lips, the door to his room opened, causing both of you to jump backwards, eyes shooting towards the person intruding on such an intimate moment.

“Jin,” Namjoon looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks pink realizing what he walked into, “we need you in Yoongi’s room.” He bowed his head once at you both before turning on his heels and walking away.

Seokjin cleared his throat and you found it endearing how his neck and ears were turning a beet red. “S-sorry,” he sputtered out, “I - I’ll be back in a little bit?” He sounded unsure as he scrubbed a hand down his face. You gave him a small smile and nodded, a little sad at the loss of companionship you were just starting to get used to. You couldn’t quite place the emotion you were feeling, but you knew it was nothing like the platonic friendship you felt for Woo or Mina. Jin stood up from his bed, making his way towards, before giving you some parting words, “I’ll have Jungkook come show you where the showers are.”

After your encounter with Jin this morning, you were reeling from the onslaught of emotions you were feeling. You weren’t given much time to think too much about it though, because once you finished your breakfast, Jungkook came to give you a short, and rather quiet, tour of the building.

Like Seokjim promised, Jungkook showed you where the one bathroom was located, which looked more like a gym locker room than a bathroom. There were shower stalls, benches, and a couple of toilets and sinks along with a wall of lockers. It looked to be a changing room for employees of the mill. Jungkook had brought with him your black linen pants, washed by Jin according to him, and another large t-shirt. He didn’t want to admit it was his this time, and blushed fiercely as he handed them over to you, along with a clean towel.

Jungkook kindly showed you how to work the showers, helping you turn one on because of your hands. He also sweetly helped unwrap your hands and feet so you could properly shower and clean the cuts and scrapes. After he was done, he turned away, telling you he would wait on the benches for you to finish. As he was retreating, you reached out your hand to grab his forearm, “Wait - I- I can’t really lift my arms up,” you mumbled, warily looking up into his wide deer-in-headlights eyes, “can- can you help me?” You’ve never been shy about your body or nudity, but something about Jungkook seeing you nearly naked, made you feel like a shy teenager again.

You thought Jungkook was about to spontaneously combust the way he was staring at you. His shoulders were squared and nearly meeting his ears, lips pursed into a tight line, and eyes the size of dinner plates. You almost laughed at his expression, but then remembered how awkward this situation was for the both of you.

“I- I - ye- yes,” Jungkook was a stuttering mess, but wanted to offer you his help regardless. He felt like he was on fire with the way his cheeks and neck were heating. Slowly, you retracted your hand from his forearm when you felt like he wasn’t about to bolt out of the room. Jungkook carefully reached for the hem and your shirt and you turned around so your back was facing him to make this all less embarrassing. The boy audibly gulped as he slowly pulled your shirt upwards removing it from your head first, pushing it towards your front. He stepped closer to you so there was barely an inch of space between your now bare back and his front. Reaching his arms around you, he gripped the shirt and slid it down your arms, removing it from you completely. His fingers ever so slightly brushed the skin on your arms and made a shiver run up your spine. Jungkook didn’t miss the way you let out a strangled breath, almost inaudible.

He needed to cool off, quickly.

You quietly thanked him, quickly covering your breasts with your arms, as he turned away still holding Jin’s shirt and made his way out of the bathroom without another word.

After your much needed shower you struggled to dress yourself, but you would rather cut off your own arm than go through the embarrassment of finding Jungkook to help you again. Once you were finally decent, you found Jungkook sitting on the benches outside of the shower room, just like he said he would be. He has visibly calmed down, now wearing a calm expression. When he noticed you walk into the room, he gave you a small smile. “Feel better?”

You nodded enthusiastically, happy to feel clean again.

Next, Jungkook showed you the small kitchen that Jin spoke of earlier. It was more like a kitchenette, almost like an employee break room. It had a tiny refrigerator, cabinets that were filled with dry goods, a sink, and one electric burner. The building was so old, you were shocked to see the kitchen in such great condition. At the shocked look on your face, Jungkook told you that Jin really loved to cook and worked really hard to clean it up and keep it that way. Your face flushed at the reminder of the older man who was making your heart feel things just this morning. The thought of him caring so much about his kitchen, moving about in here cooking the delicious food you ate for breakfast, made your stomach twist in a pleasant way.

The last place Jungkook showed you was a mostly empty room on the second floor of the building. He told you that they didn’t use the second story much, considering the state of disrepair of the place, they didn’t want to risk getting hurt up here. But this room, Jungkook told you, was his favorite place to hang out. It was a rectangular concrete room that had a large expanse of windows on the far wall. Some of the windows were broken, allowing the breeze from outside to enter. In front of the windows sat a small tan sofa that looked like it had seen better days. Jungkook led you over to the windows, and you quickly realized why he liked this room so much.

You could see the entire quarry from up here. It was beautiful. At the bottom of the quarry was water that took on an incredible aquamarine color, turning almost green in the sunlight. The water was completely still, no disruptions on the surface, making it look serene. Along the bank of water, there were lush, green bushes and trees swaying slightly in the wind. On the other side of the quarry, you could see a small patch of yellow and purple flowering plants. Along the steep sides of the cliffs, you could see the smooth surface of exposed marble. Over the years, the marble has become weathered and looked smooth to the touch. The late morning sun, high in the sky, was reflecting off of the stone in a way that made it sparkle. It was an incredible sight, and you were surprised you’d never seen it like this before, having been out here in the past.

As you stood there, taking in the breathtaking scenery, Jungkook was taking in you. You had a look of mirth in your eyes, and he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing you up here. He took in your side profile, admiring your sharp features that looked as if they were carved from the very marble you were currently staring at. He loved the way your soft lips were forming a small pout, eyes focused on the sight in front of you. He didn’t realize he was grinning at you, until you turned around with a look of shock on your face.

A grin spread across your face as you saw Jungkook’s smile for the first time. It reminded you of a bunny, large front teeth on display for you to admire. You stood there for a moment, smiling at each other before you both started giggling. “Thank you for showing me this, Jungkook,” you crooned once the laughter had subsided. He just smiled at you in return before looking back out towards the quarry. You stayed in a comfortable silence after that, before Jungkook deemed it time to head back downstairs.

Downstairs, Jungkook led you to a room that was right in the middle of the long hallway that contained all the other rooms. “This is Yoongi-hyung’s room,” he cautioned, hand on the door, “don’t worry, Joon-hyung told him to be nice,” he rushed out, seeing the fearful look on your pretty features.

You were still uncertain, but nodded at Jungkook anyways, prompting him to open the door. Jungkook waited patiently for you to enter the room on your own with no pressure from him. You peeked around the corner to find the occupants of the room all staring right at you. You purse your lips into a tight line and avert your gaze to your newfound safe harbor, Seokjin, who was sitting on a black leather couch. His eyes softened at your uncomfortable look before scooting over to make room for you on the couch, patting the seat next to him, inviting you over. You hesitantly walked over and plopped down on the soft cushion.

Jin rubbed a large hand on your shoulder briefly to calm you down before placing both hands in his lap. As you felt yourself relax a bit, you took in your surroundings. Jungkook was still standing near the door, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looked oddly stoic, shedding the shy persona he usually wore. The room was fairly large, or at least, larger than the rest of the rooms you’ve been in. Against the right wall was the black leather couch you and Jin were currently sat on, and to your right against the far wall were two arm chairs, one of which was occupied by Namjoon. Sat in a desk chair in front of what looked like an old corporate desk, was Yoongi, with multiple laptops and devices sprawled out in front of him. Leaning against the wall behind Yoongi was another man, one you didn’t recognize, but you assumed was Hoseok. He was staring intently at you. His expression was unreadable, not cold, but not welcoming either. He looked intense with bright red hair, a sharp jawline that looked like it could cut diamonds, dressed in all black. He was a little intimidating and not at all like the golden retriever type boy Namjoon had described to you last night.

As you took in the men around the room, you hadn’t noticed Yoongi and Namjoon discussing a possible plan to break the twins out of Big Hit. “Jimin said there might be a window of time where no one is around,” Yoongi scoffed, “but you remember what happened last time he said that.”

Namjoon nodded his head. Now you were listening intently to their conversation, as were the other men in the room. “We need to trust Jimin, Yoongs. He’s the one inside there, he sees what’s going on, we don’t,” Namjoon sighed, running his hands over his knees, apparently a self-soothing mechanism, “if you think you can get in and knock out the cameras, we might as well give it a shot. We will make sure we’re better prepared this time.” Namjoon seemed defeated. You weren’t sure what happened ‘last time’, but it didn’t sound good.

“It doesn’t matter how prepared we are, he was wrong about the window last time. By two hours. If he’s wrong again we could get caught, or killed,” Yoongi snapped, anger apparent in his eyes, “I’m not willing to risk you guys again.”

“What about her?” This time, it was the redhead who spoke. You hadn’t noticed his eyes on you throughout the entire conversation, assessing you.

“No!” Both Jin and Jungkook barked at the same time, making you jump in your seat. Jin set a soothing hand on your shoulder as you looked at him, and then at Hoseok with wide eyes. Jin shook his head aggressively before looking at Yoongi and Hoseok, “No way. She’s never been there, she would have no idea what to do. You’re not willing to risk one of us, but willing to risk her?” He snarled, you haven’t seen him angry before, and you were positive you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.

Over by the door, Jungkook had uncrossed his arms and was walking towards Yoongi’s desk. “You can’t send her in there, hyung,” he started, placing both hands palm down on the desk, “please.”

Yoongi looked up at the maknae with soft eyes before pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Behind him, Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion,” he sighed out passively, “we’ve all lived there at some point or another, they would recognize us immediately, just like last time.”

“They know her too. Hyunwoo has been scouting her for months, according to Jimin. We can’t let her go in there.” It was Namjoon who was being the voice of reason this time, causing both Jin and Jungkook to let out a collective sigh of relief. The five men continued to argue while you got lost in your thoughts. Hoseok wanted you to navigate Big Hit? Alone? You mulled it over in your head for a minute, remembering Yoongi’s words. If he was able to hack the cameras, they wouldn’t be able to see you, right? You felt so grateful towards Jin and Namjoon, and even Jungkook, for helping you, you wanted to contribute in some way. You wanted to help them, ease their pain at the loss of their friends.

With this thought in mind, you spoke up, “I could do it…” you trailed off, voice quiet. All five of the men’s heads snapped towards you, most with looks of disbelief on their faces. Even Hoseok hadn’t expected you to agree, he was testing you, to see how you would react. Yoongi looked at you curiously, waiting for your next words. He couldn’t deny the clench in his heart at Seokjin’s words. No, he wasn’t willing to risk you, but if you were offering... “I mean.. I want to help,” you hesitated, looking between Jin and Jungkook who were now looking angrily at you. You shrunk in on yourself a bit, awaiting their response.

“Then it’s settled,” Yoongi remarked. He was trying hard to contain the fear he felt at allowing you to enter Big Hit alone. He knew it was dangerous, and he really wanted to not care about your well-being, but try as he might, he was terrified of allowing you to do this. He assumed he hid it well though, because everyone bar Hoseok was looking at him with incredulousness.

“No way,” Seokjin spoke first, his tone leaving nothing up for discussion, “this conversation is over.” Jin stood up abruptly, looking directly at Namjoon, “You aren’t ok with this, are you?” The look in his eye was intense, and Namjoon could feel it. He could feel the emotions Jin felt towards you, that he was going to do whatever it took to protect you. Namjoon would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way.

Namjoon let out a short sigh and closed his eyes before setting his gaze on Yoongi, “We can figure this out without involving YN.”

“You heard her,” Yoongi growled, “she’s willing to risk her life. Who am I to tell her no?”

From there, the argument got even more heated, Jungkook even getting involved at one point. You were starting to feel uncomfortably hot in this cramped space. You understood both sides. You wanted to help, but you also knew that whatever you were volunteering yourself to do was dangerous. You needed air.

Suddenly, you stood up from the sofa announcing to the others that you ‘needed space’ and bolted out the door. Jungkook turned to run after you, but Hoseok, who was now standing next to the youngest, put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let me go Hobi-hyung, I need to make sure YN is ok,” Jungkook rushed out, turning to the elder.

“Let her go, Kookie. This is probably a lot for her,” Hoseok told the boy, who looked like his heart was breaking at his words, “She’ll be ok, give her time.”

In your haste to remove yourself from the situation, you missed the look of absolute devastation on Jin’s face. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything to repay them. He didn’t want you to feel like you owed them. He couldn’t believe how strongly he felt for you after only one day, longing for your presence next to him, now that it was suddenly gone. He could see that Jungkook - and to some extent, Namjoon - felt similarly.

Namjoon’s heavy sigh could be heard by everyone in the room, even over the loud chatter between the boys, as he slowly rose from his seat. As he made his way over to the door, he looked over his shoulder at the hacker. “Fix this.” His words held a finality that made Yoongi gulp. The blonde had a stoic outer shell that was hard to crack, but no one in this building could deny Namjoon was the one in charge, the one they wouldn’t defy. Yoongi nodded, biting the inside his cheek to hold back his retorts as Namjoon left the room.

After you burst out of Yoongi’s room earlier, you ran towards the big metal door that led outside the warehouse. You didn’t really want to go home, you were way too scared of what might be waiting for you there, but you did need some fresh air and some time to process everything that has happened to you since yesterday.

You made your way down the long winding path that led back to the fork in the path at the edge of the forest. You were thankful Jungkook had found you a pair of slippers earlier and you were no longer barefoot. You passed the broken fence blocking the dirt road down to the quarry and carefully hiked down until you were at the embankment and sat on the edge of the water. It really was beautiful and now that you were up close, you could see how clear the water was. It looked like liquid gemstones, barely rippling in the slight breeze. The marble looked so pretty up close, nearly snow white with swirls and lines of grey. It was calming out here. You took a few deep breaths, inhaling the scent of the water and the trees.

You have never done well with crowds of people. Not that five men were a crowd by any means, but you weren’t used to being around more than a couple of people at a time. Growing up, you had severe anxiety, especially while at school, and it carried over to adulthood. You also haven’t had many chances to socialize as an adult, outside of Mina and Woo. Being thrown into a situation with five men, two of whom you don’t think even want you around, is a lot. It’s only been twenty four hours and you’re already starting to regret leaving your home. You thought about your mom, and the huge breakfasts and dinners she would make for you and your father. Your father, who you didn’t know if you could even trust anymore. You’ve lived your whole life putting all your trust in your parents, as one should. But now you were questioning everything. Were they aware of your genetic rarity? Did they know about Big Hit all along? You had so many unanswered questions that you would probably never have answers to unless you went home.

Your mind wandered to Mina and Woo. How you weren’t sure if you would ever get to see them again. You were worried about them, worried that they would look for you and find themselves in some kind of trouble. They were your only friends growing up, and you didn’t even get to properly say goodbye to them. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt something wet and warm drop into your lap. You were wearing the pants that you got dressed in yesterday morning before what could’ve been your last breakfast with your family. At that thought, the dam within you broke and the tears started flowing.

While staring at your damaged hands, you were reminded of Seokjin, and his caring nature. The tall, broad shouldered man who has shown you nothing but kindness. He was so gentle with you, like no one ever has been before. He made your heart flutter and your mind blank when he spoke to you. You thought back to how angry he had been with his own friends, over you, a girl he just met. He was defending you, and it made you feel like you were tearing a family apart. You didn’t want to bring him, or anyone else for that matter, any pain or harm. But then you thought back to how nice his large hand had felt against the delicate skin of your face this morning, and how his words had made you blush with fondness. You’ve never loved someone outside of your family, never even had a crush before. You weren’t sure how to define what you felt for Seokjin, but it felt good.

Then you thought about Namjoon, the well spoken and intelligent man who was the reason you were brought in with welcoming arms. From what you’ve gathered, he was the one who pushed to find you, to make sure they did something to stop Big Hit from getting to you. You were thankful for him, and you didn’t want to put him in a position where he had to choose you or his brothers. He cared for them deeply, you could see that clearly.

Jungkook was mysterious to you. He seemed so shy and timid, yet he was so angry with Yoongi earlier in defense of you. He had shown you one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever witnessed before, and given you one of the most precious smiles you’ve ever seen. You wanted to learn more about him, get to know him, be his friend. You felt drawn to the boy and wanted to protect him. It was odd, you’ve never felt an instinct to take care of someone else before, aside from maybe your cat. You wondered if that was how Seokjin felt towards the rest of them, the thought causing your heart to clench, emphatic towards him.

The red haired man, Hoseok, was the one you knew the least about. It felt like he didn’t really like you, but he was so hard to read. You remembered what Namjoon said about him being excitable and friendly, but you had yet to experience it yourself. As much as you felt unwelcomed by him and Yoongi, you still felt inclined to get to know him better, a pull to him, much like the others. You couldn’t explain these feelings, and they were confusing you.

The last man of the group, the blonde. Yoongi. He definitely didn’t want you here, and definitely made you feel unwelcome. But could you blame him? You weren’t mad at him. No. You understood completely how he felt. You were a stranger, disposable, and you weren’t his friend. He had no reason to care about you. None of them did. You mentally berated yourself for allowing your mind to conjure up the idea that they owe you anything, that you deserved their care and affection.

As you sat and cried silently to yourself, you let the dark thoughts take over your mind. Were you some kind of charity case to Namjoon? Like he felt the need to save someone who was like him and that’s all you meant to them? Maybe they felt sorry for you, and that’s why they were treating you so kindly. Seokjin acted caring towards everyone, why were you anything special? You were acting crazy, it’s only been a day with these men and you’re already feeling such a strong pull to them. You need to get a hold of yourself. You continued to sit there, on the edge of the water, shoulders hunched as you cried silently. As the day went on, and the sun started to set beyond the hills, your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all a horrible, horrible idea.

To be continued….

A/N: if you made it this far, first of all, THANK YOU! If you want to be added to the taglist, make sure you’re following me and send me an ask. if you enjoy the series consider reblogging so it can reach more readers. i’m feeling a little down about writing right now, so i’m trying to make sure to update next sunday. we will be meeting the twins in the next couple chapters, depending on how long they get, and you will be getting some steamy scenes between YN and (a) boy shortly. much love

xx Des

taglist: @minifruity @mrcleanheichou @arantxaglz @chim-possible

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fic-art-blurbs · 4 years ago

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How “Lost In Thoughts All Alone” Connects To Each Route Of Three Houses

OKAY. SO RIGHT OUT THE GATE. I KNOW THIS SOUNDS MONUMENTALLY STUPID BUT HEAR ME OUT. I KNOW THERE IS 0% CHANCE OF THIS BEING INTENDED BECAUSE INTSYS IS INTSYS AND ALSO THESE ARE TWO ENTIRELY DIFFERENT WORLDS BUT THESE VERSES ACTUALLY FIT SOMEWHAT AND IMMA TRY TO BREAK IT DOWN. FAIR WARNING THERE’S GONNA BE SO MUCH STRETCHING THAT YOU’RE GONNA THINK YOU’RE IN A YOGA CLASS.

You can listen to the song itself in its entirety here, I’ll be going by verses and talking about the routes/characters I think each fits. And I’ll be putting this under a read more because I know this is going to be long also @iturbide here’s the essay

Also spoilers

First Verse/Opening Verse - Byleth/Sothis

You are the ocean's gray waves, destined to seek Life beyond the shore just out of reach Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time The path is yours to climb

This one isn’t too difficult to talk about. This is the opening verse of the song, and the first verse Azura sings in Fates. This verse also plays in between almost all of the verses in the song - note I said almost. It also plays at the end of the song. This fits Byleth, and by extension Sothis rather well. Byleth is the driving force behind how each route, behind each character’s growth. They manipulate time, constantly going back in time over and over again, whether it’s to take another path, or to try and save a life. Byleth is the one with the power here, and no matter how many times they go back, no matter how they make time bend to their will, it always flows back - the “Golden Route” so many desire is always out of reach, no matter how many routes they play.

And yet no matter what, you keep going back. Byleth, though I guess at this point I’m talking about the player, is destined to continue trying to reach that happy ending, they’re destined to keep searching for a way to make that happy ending a reality.

The path is yours to climb indeed - as many choose to try and make one, unaware that the path they create is one treaded many times over.

Birthright’s Verse - Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd (Azure Moon)

In the white light, a hand reaches through A double-edged blade cuts your heart in two Waking dreams fade away, Embrace the brand-new day Sing with me a song of birthrights and love The light scatters to the sky above Dawn breaks through the gloom, white as a bone Lost in thoughts all alone

I imagine the white light being referred to here being the reunion scene, and the hand as being Byleth’s. Remember how Azure Moon’s reunion scene left Dimitri shrouded in the darkness, and Byleth in the light? The double-edged blade here could refer to Edelgard herself - he may have been happy to reunite with his step-sister, but it was the reveal of her being the Flame Emperor that “cut his heart in two”, breaking his heart and making him fall victim to his rage. His “waking dreams fading away” to “embrace the brand new day” may refer to his ghosts, how they grow quieter (not quite disappearing entirely, but fading away for now) in the wake of Rodrigue’s death and Byleth’s words finally reaching through to him.

“Sing me a song of birthrights and love” I think could refer to Dimitri’s mindset. He feels bound by his birthright as the future king of Faerghus, and the love he feels for both his family and his country. When Edelgard’s deception is revealed, a good chunk of the reason his breakdown is so bad is due to the fact she seemingly betrayed that love, betrayed the love that was shown to her by his father and her mother. He views it as her willingly betraying them and directly causing their deaths along with Glenn’s and the genocide of an entire country. He feels it is his birthright not only to right the wrongs committed by his country, but to avenge what happened to his loved ones.

The next two lines I think reflect his finally quelling his rage, no longer letting it consume him. That “white as a bone” line I can imagine talking about his path - his intentions may have been honorable at the beginning, but his path is no less gory than the one he wanted the head of.

And the final line? It describes Dimitri for a good portion of Azure Moon. He’s lost in his thoughts, all alone, pushing away his support because he believes himself unworthy.

Conquest’s Verse - Edelgard von Hresvelg (Crimson Flower)

Embrace the dark you call a home, Gaze upon an empty, white throne A legacy of lies, A familiar disguise Sing with me a song of conquest and fate The black pillar cracks beneath its weight Night breaks through the day, hard as a stone Lost in thoughts all alone

No I did NOT just pick this verse for Edelgard because of the conquest thing I PROMISE. I SWEAR THERE’S MORE TO THIS THAN JUST THE CONQUEST LINE I PROMISE

ANYWAY I imagined that first line referring to Edelgard marching home and assuming the throne. The Empire is far from a bright place, and she’s embracing it as she declares herself emperor in order to declare war on the church. The “empty white throne” line? It could mean one of two things, if not both. The first thing could be telling her to gaze upon Faerghus’s empty throne, the throne she made empty by killing her step-brother - even if she didn’t remember him being her brother. The second thing could be referring to Sothis’s empty throne, as she’s unknowingly following in the footsteps of Nemesis by killing the Goddess and her followers - first with the death of Seiros, and then the dissolution of Sothis’s crest stone (even if she didn’t directly play a part in the latter, Edelgard’s route is the only route where the crest stone disappears for good). If you stretch, you could also make it so that this refers to if you kill Claude, but the throne of Almyra wouldn’t be empty - it would just be angry and ready for war.

The next two lines could refer to the Agarthans. “A legacy of lies, a familiar disguise” could refer to Patricia and Arundel respectively. Edelgard’s mother was revealed by Cornelia to maybe having a hand in the Tragedy of Duscur and making that image of Patricia as a kind woman a lie - though this is in the Azure Moon route, so this could be handwaved. This line could instead refer to how Edelgard views Rhea and the church - they’ve passed on a “legacy of lies”, hiding the horrific truth behind the Relics and the Crests, claiming them to be gifts from the Goddess. The latter line, “a familiar disguise”, could be about Arundel. It’s revealed that Arundel is actually Thales in disguise, and Arundel is Edelgard’s uncle - someone she undoubtedly would’ve been familiar with.

“The black pillar cracks beneath its weight” could be talking about the weight of Edelgard’s war. Even if the game states that Crimson Flower had no consequences in the end, there are undoubtedly consequences scattered across the land. The newly “unified” Fodlan would be cracking under that weight, with new cracks appearing with every new rebellion, every new attack. Every instance that could tell Edelgard that perhaps declaring war so hastily might have been a mistake.

“Night breaks through the day” can very easily be equated to Edelgard’s war in conquering all of Fodlan. “Hard as a stone” would be her resolve - no matter what route you choose, Edelgard is steadfast in her belief that she is in the right. She never falters, never once wonders if she was wrong. Her only regret when you kill her in Azure Moon is wishing Byleth walked at her side - not regretting her war, regretting that Byleth was not on her side.

And of course, the final line. Edelgard is alone in her thoughts, even with Hubert seemingly knowing everything. She’s lost in her thoughts of conquest, and similar to Dimitri, vengeance. She may not be haunted by ghosts like he is, but she’s certainly haunted by her ticking clock and the deaths of her siblings as they fell in the experiments, one by one, until she stood alone. It could also refer to the ending of Crimson Flower - now that she’s won her war, what now? Stability would not come right away, and the increasing attacks and rebellions depending on certain choices could have Edelgard lost in her thoughts, perhaps wondering for the first time if she should have chosen differently.

((Fair warning, this is where most of the stretching begins - Revelations is strange in that it actually has 2 verses of its own - it has an opening to replace the “You are the ocean’s grey waves” verse, and a verse more similar to the other two routes.))

Revelation’s Verses - Claude von Riegan & Rhea/Seiros (Verdant Wind/Silver Snow)

The path you walk on belongs to destiny, just let it flow All of your joy and your pain will fall like the tide, let it flow Life is not just filled with happiness, or sorrow Even the thorn in your heart, in time it may become a rose

A burdened heart sinks into the ground A veil falls away without a sound Not day nor night, wrong nor right For truth and peace you fight Sing with me a song of silence and blood The rain falls, but can't wash away the mud Within my ancient heart dwells madness and pride Can no one hear my cry?

Again, there’s gonna be a LOT of stretching. I think that first verse might not actually be for Claude or Rhea exactly - that verse sounds a lot more like it’s meant for Byleth. Telling them to accept that they’ll not have their golden route, accept that life isn’t just happiness - but it isn’t just sorrow either. And yet Byleth persists.

The second verse though - the first half I think fits Claude more, and the second half fits Rhea more. Though you could argue those last two lines also fit Nemesis emerging from Shambala in Verdant Wind - I don’t think so, but it’s there.

Claude’s definitely got a burdened heart - he’s got so many trust issues that if you could build with them, you’d have a skyscraper. But it’s through his interactions with the Deer, and by extension Byleth, that the walls he put up to protect himself slowly fall away. The mask he put on of a carefree individual silently gets dropped, and by post timeskip, you can see that Claude trusts his Deer - and Byleth, if this is Verdant Wind - with everything. He’s the neutral route in this, he doesn’t choose to fight for either side, his fight isn’t for either side. He’s fighting to destroy the borders between lands, fighting for the truth (in that his route is the one where you learn everything), and for peace, equality. He may be the funny upside down meme to most, but he’s the only one of the three to actually fight for truth and peace, the real versions of both - you don’t get to learn the truth in Azure Moon, and in you only get to see what Edelgard believes is the truth in Crimson Flower.

Rhea’s the one who knows everything. She knows the truth behind the Relics, the Crest Stones, Crests, everything - and yet she stays silent. She stays silent, afraid that more would follow in the footsteps of Nemesis and bring more bloodshed - hence the “sing me a song of silence and blood”. The next line could refer to how no matter what she does, the darker parts of history wouldn’t be scrubbed away. Even if she did succeed in her attempts to bring back Sothis, in an attempt to wash away the dirt from their past, what then? Did she really think Sothis would welcome her back with open arms, with what she’d done to achieve her goal? And the last two lines...those are rather self-explanatory. Say what you will, for a time, Rhea did indeed go mad. She believed herself to be in the right, much like Edelgard did, and became furious when anyone said otherwise. That’s shown in her ruthless execution of those who opposed her, and her downward spiral in Crimson Flower. The final line, “can no one hear my cry?” may refer to how, even if one of her brothers and her niece were there by her side, neither knew what she had become. Neither ever knew what lengths she went to, nor did they know how much pain she was in to have driven her to madness, driven her to the belief that creating and killing at least twelve vessels in an attempt to create the perfect one for Sothis was right. Perhaps if someone had heard her cry, things would have been much different.

Interestingly, this is the only verse to not end with “lost in thoughts all alone”. If you think about it in the terms of Claude and Rhea, this may be for different reasons. Claude is remarkably well-adjusted for someone thrown into war - he gives a “power of friendship” speech during the final fight for crying out loud, if anything, he’s actually grown for the better. He’s not lost in thoughts all alone because he’s learned to actually lean on others for support. In Rhea’s case, her not being lost in her thoughts all alone would be for an entirely different reason - she isn’t lost in her thoughts. She’s not thinking clearly, but she isn’t lost like Dimitri or Edelgard. She isn’t so lost that she can’t command troops outside of “KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM”, nor does she question if she was in the wrong like Edelgard might’ve had the latter won her war at the cost of stability. To the very end, she doesn’t regret her decisions - she may not have made them with a clear mind, but she knows what she did, and she isn’t lost thinking of what might have been.

((TECHNICALLY there is one more verse, sung by Shigure in the Heirs of Fate DLC. The reason it’s not brought up? That one is much more context sensitive - the only line I can really think of fitting anywhere is “Endless dawn came but not without a price” possibly referring to the end of the war in every route, with “dawn” here referring to peace, and the price being the countless lives lost in the war. Then again, each route’s definition of “peace” is rather shaky, some more so than others, so it could refer to each individual leader’s goals being reached in their routes at the cost of a war.))

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queerlymasculine · 3 years ago

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note to subs with ptsd and other struggles related to childhood trauma:

I've had a bit of an Emotional Journey over the week or so, and I want to impart a few lessons. I can only speak for myself and my own experiences, so ymmv, but hopefully this will be helpful in some way.

(obviously, this will have non-specific, general references to childhood trauma. no details are given. this discusses expecting other people to act like one's abuser(s) did/does. but there are no details.)

disclaimer: everything I say here assumes a relationship with a dom who is acting in good faith. also, my dom and I don't play with rules or punishments, so when I say something like I felt like I had done something wrong, I mean it in a regular, everyday, interpersonal relationship way. this post is only talking about kink dynamics that are ongoing relationships. finally, kink is not a substitute for therapy with a licensed and competent professional nor for medical treatment if appropriate. go to therapy.

disclaimer over.

self-awareness is one of the most important skills you need to build in order to practice kink safely and responsibly. sometimes the way we react to things does not seem logical from the outside, so we need to understand why we react certain ways and be able to clearly communicate that. this does not just apply to reactions that may occur during a scene. in fact, I think it's even more important for reactions outside of a scene.

for example, recently, I realized I have not been as supportive to my dom as I would like. it's been a tough month for me for a variety of reasons -- not enough work, pandemic, ongoing health issues, etc -- and although it's understandable to be at limited capacity, I want to be a more positive, supportive person in general, at least towards the people I like. so I had this realization, and it's always uncomfortable to realize you haven't been acting in a manner consistent with your values, but because you're an adult, you tolerate that discomfort, recognize the behaviors you want to change, apologize, and move on.

except...... I wasn't feeling just that healthy discomfort. it was also something else. and what made it worse was that my dom didn't think I had done anything wrong, and at first, I thought I was fine. I assumed it was just the healthy discomfort, so I waited for it to fade on its own over time.

slowly, the situation changed from "I would like to be more supportive" to "I have been so selfish and I've been constantly asking for support and I'm a terrible person and ze must be angry with me for not being as supportive as I think I should be."

and then it became "ze is angry with me but won't tell me and I don't know how to make this better."

so that was when I realized I might be a little off base because that is not what ze is like lol and we had played recently and ze had been as just as amazing as always, everything has been wonderful, nothing had felt different. so something was off.

I decided to broach the topic again, and as I was communicating all of this, I realized:

lmao oh shit I feel like I'm walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop and expecting to be punished (like, in a bad way, not a fun consensual way because punishment play could never be fun for me and I will never consent to it) by this person who I love and am close to and wishing for some kind of punishment just so I won't be waiting constantly for it. that's ✨trauma✨. that's not how things have ever worked in this relationship I am having at 29. that's how things worked when I lived with and talked to my family.

it made me doubly grateful that I had been so careful and discerning when deciding to be with my dom. when I have that walking on eggshells feeling, I can't guarantee I wouldn't do something I was uncomfortable with, just to make things right. but that's not something I have to worry about because ze doesn't give orders and would never ask me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with.

power exchange is risky, no matter what role you choose to play. when you have experienced childhood trauma, the risk increases exponentially. power exchange changes a relationship. even when we're not playing and we're just people, I am incredibly sensitive to my dom's behavior towards me. I wouldn't be this sensitive if we didn't practice kink because I wouldn't be as vulnerable.

and if my dom was truly angry with me, if I felt like I was no longer in hir good graces, if I felt like ze no longer wanted me? that would fucking hurt in a way I don't think many people would understand. because it wouldn't just be an argument or something. I consistently bear my soul to this person. I have never trusted another human being like this. I have given myself to hir.

I always say kink is play and that people need to stop taking it so seriously. and this remains true. it doesn't have to be a whole thing with all the bells and whistles. protocols are unnecessary unless you want to play with them. doms have no inherent right to my respect whatsoever.

but just because it's play doesn't mean it doesn't matter. yes, it's play, it's make believe, my partner doesn't actually own me because you can't own people, and it's just stuff we do for fun when we feel like it.

but the emotional stakes are real. the potential for harm is very real. if you have lived through childhood trauma and you want to do kink on the sub side of things, you need to know yourself well enough to be able to communicate your needs to your partner. you need to be able to communicate when shit like this happens.

awareness and communication is how you avoid sabotaging your relationships because you're trying to keep yourself safe. you keep yourself safe by knowing when it's trauma talking and not your realistic view of the situation at hand. you keep yourself safe by telling your partner what you're feeling and giving them the necessary context. you don't have to give details, but you do need to give context because that helps them understand and it gives them the tools they need to take better care of you and keep you safe.

it's not easy, but it's necessary if you want to be able to engage in kink in an ethical way. your dom can't take care of you if you don't tell them what they need to know. your dom can't give you what you need if you don't tell them. unexpected things happen, of course, and people make mistakes along the way and that's normal and fine, and your needs can change over time, and you learn more about yourself as time goes on because that's part of being a person.

but as a rule, you have to know yourself and you have to know what you need, and you have to give this information to your partner. you have to be willing to address issues as soon as they come up. issues might seem small at first, but it's better to have a conversation now rather than later. if you wait or don't fully air everything out, resentment can build.

again, this isn't always easy, and it's okay if it feels hard. but you still have to do it.

it might feel like a lot of work at first, but doing that work now when everything is fresh is better than watching your dynamic fall apart. it's work worth doing if you're in a dynamic you want to stay in. and part of being a human is learning to give other people chances to surprise you. I'm not talking about letting toxic people back into your life. I'm talking about giving partners a chance to give you what you need, and they can only do that if you tell them what you need and how to give it to you.

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poetryofyouth · 4 years ago

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I did it, I finally quit psychiatry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

psychiatrist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years ago

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Arthur Fleck is like super super handsome so I really need a rough, spicy and sweet smut. Reader walks around the house in a long shirt and panties cus it's super comfortable and Arthur keeps imagining this possibly uh ahem touching himself, but yeah smut it's hot and reader is preferably chubby

OMG I do this all the time in the summer so this is a mood. This one is a female reader smut piece but I do have some male!reader x Arthur smut in my inbox too, so keep an eye out for that. I’ll also do some gender neutral smut for our boi too, so there’s hopefully something for everyone.

NSFW. Hidden from those in Safe Mode. Don’t read unless you’re over 18.

Features: protected sex, oral sex (female reader receiving), lots of fluff, aftercare. Some angst sorry I can’t help myself lmao I love angst/smut/fluff all put together.

Contains swearing and mentions of smoking.

This literally took me three hours to write. I started at 7 AM this morning after that smutty dream and now it’s 10:06 AM and I’ve just stopped so please let me know what you think!

Word count: 3, 608 (my longest one yet)

Oh, help you, it was so hot.

The air conditioning in the apartment building hadn’t worked for more than a decade, and those who were responsible for maintaining the building hadn’t so much as glanced at it for just as long. Why would they care? They had new cars every six months and didn’t even live in the fucking city in the first place. The stench of rubbish that littered the overcrowded streets filtered in through the dirty windows of the apartment you shared with Arthur; you had moved in with him some months ago when you realised that your two incomes could be better used split between just one home. Yours. With any luck, you would get out of Gotham quicker that way, with both of you sharing the bills (though you always paid a larger portion without saying anything to Arthur; you both knew you did it, but out of embarrassment did he stay silent. He paid you back in other ways, anyway) and doing half of everything else together.

With no air conditioning and no breeze to aid you in any way, you had had to resort to desperate measures. With an equally suffering Arthur already at work, you had stayed home in one of his long sleeved t-shirts. It came down to your mid-thigh and just covered your bum. You wore underwear, too, and that was it. Nothing else. You were still too hot, but with the windows open you didn’t want to inadvertently flash any pedestrian who happened to glance upwards as they walked past the neglected apartment building. You would have to deal with it the best you could. Thoughts of Arthur always made you feel warm from the inside, so with him in your head it wasn’t too hard to grin and bear even the worst of circumstances.

All day did you stay home, letting your body run on auto pilot while you cleaned the apartment. You hadn’t needed to clean the apartment, you and Arthur did incredibly well keeping it clean given your economical situations, but you also needed something to do; anything to distract you from the way that Arthur’s shirt, baggy on you, was clinging to your damp skin. While you worked, not moving so fast that you made yourself even hotter, you found yourself thinking of Arthur. His intense green eyes hidden underneath those thick, dark eyebrows. The way his eyes glittered with innocent mischief when he told you his newest jokes. The way his hands dangled a cigarette elegantly between them. The way he looked when he danced; his lithe form easily moving to a beat that only he could hear. The way he danced with you with no music playing. The way he kissed you the way a drowning person would hold onto their last breath; desperately and with a sense of urgency which only increased. The way he used his entire hand to trace parts of your body, his fingers gripping at your thighs…

You spent the entire day growing increasingly hot and bothered, flustered by all the memories of things that Arthur had done to you, and even things that you had done together. You so loved loving him. You loved the way he moaned, the way he gasped, the way he murmured his love for you against your skin like a prayer. You loved the way he shifted closer to you in his sleep; even if you went to sleep on separate sides of the bed, you would wake up and he would be clinging to you like a koala; his legs wrapped around you and his nose breathing you in. Arthur loved with his whole being, and you wanted to protect him, love him and keep him safe for the rest of your lives together.

So lost were you in your arousal, which stayed pooled in your panties because despite being an adult, you had no real idea about how to adequately take care of yourself when tensions within you grew high, that you didn’t notice Arthur come home. You didn’t notice the way he dropped his bag in shock at the sight of you laying on the sofa, one leg dangling off the side, the other crooked at an angle and resting against the back of the sofa. Your hair dropped over the edge of the sofa, too, such was the angle of your head… your legs were parted, your eyes were closed and all Arthur could think about was fucking you into the worn springs of that old sofa.

His throat was as dry as the day outside, and he couldn’t help the way he just had to palm himself through his trousers. His resounding guttural groan wrenched you out of your thoughts, and you shot upright, standing up so fast you felt dizzy.

“A-Arthur! Hi!” You walked to his still frozen form to give him a hug, and he melted into your touch, his hands staying high on your back. He kept his hips away from you. It wasn’t your fault that he was aroused, and he wouldn’t force you into anything. Really, the issue wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch you, but rather he inherently felt that he shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve such a gorgeous woman to be waiting for him at home, he didn’t deserve to be able to show you how much he loved you.

Now that he was home with you did you become aware of just how aroused you truly were. You could feel it sticking to your inner thighs and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, you would spend the rest of the afternoon suffering. Would Arthur want to? Truly, he was keeping his eyes firmly planted on your face, his hands high on your body and he kept his lower half angled away from you. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he just wasn’t sexually attracted to you. But you did know better. You felt the way his fingers were tightly gripping you as he kept himself in place, kept himself from touching you. You could see the dilation of his pupils, blown wide. You could see Arthur just as you always had, and you couldn’t help the smirk that formed on your face as you moved to nibble upon his neck.

“How was your day, honey?”

Despite the innocence of your words, what you were doing to the column of his neck with your lips and tongue was positively sinful and Arthur found himself having to make a concerted effort to keep himself still.

“I-it was g-good, it was, uhh, so good,” His words faded into a moan as he tipped his head back, allowing you full access to his throat. His Adam’s apple was exposed and you kissed it, sucking gently as your hand came up to thread your fingers through his dark hair, tugging gently at the tangled strands. Arthur whimpered as his hands slid down your body to grip your hips. “Y-Y/N, p-please - “

“It’s okay,” You smiled as you let him go, pressing your lips against his. You kissed him sweetly, letting him feel how much you loved him. You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and Arthur copied you. He was a fast learner, and what he lacked in experience he more than made up for in how passionate his every encounter with you was. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

“No,” Arthur’s voice was so soft you had to strain your ears above the pounding of your heart just to hear him, “If I start I don’t know i-if I’ll be able to - “

“Then don’t,” You cupped his face in your hands and looked him full in the face. You made no attempt to hide anything; your lust, your love, your adoration, your trust and your want. You showed him everything. Eye contact was so important to Arthur because he could read you like a book, and he liked to see you. So many people saw through you, but Arthur could almost gaze into your soul when he looked at you, and you treasured him above all else for it. “Don’t think about it. Don’t worry about anything. Just feel.” To emphasis your point, one of your hands slid down his back to cup his bum, and you squeezed, pushing yourself into him at the same time.

Arthur groaned, as did you, and his head dropped forward to rest in the space between your neck and shoulder. His lips moved to explore your neck, a shaking hand moving the collar of his shirt out of his way so he could better reach the exposed flesh. You shivered, but not because you were cold. No, your every nerve was on fire, and Arthur’s touch left goosebumps in his wake as you desperately sought more contact.

You pulled Arthur’s head up from your neck and pressed your lips to his, kissing him with as much desire as you felt swirling through your heated veins, your blood singing as it pulsed through your body. You walked backwards with him, relying solely on muscle memory to safely get you to the sofa, and you fell backwards, taking Arthur with you. He landed on you easily but you barely felt it; too lost in your arousal to notice the way his sharp pelvic bones were digging into you, the way his elbows were digging into your ribs. You parted your legs and immediately did Arthur make himself at home, a delicious blush on his face. His hair was hanging about his face, some curls sticking to his forehead. It was hot outside. It was one of the hottest days on record and you weren’t helping yourselves, but you didn’t care. You wanted each other, and you wanted it now.

You cupped his face in your hands once more, using your fingers to brush his hair away where it clung to him. Arthur leaned into your touch, looking at you like you were an actual angel. He looked at you the way you felt when you had that first cup of coffee in the morning, and it was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“I love you so fucking much.” You whispered, your voice hushed with awe at the celestial being hovering above you.

It only served to deepen Arthur’s blush and he leant down to kiss you sweetly. “I love you too. You have no idea how much.”

Your lips twitched mischievously and Arthur’s eyes followed the movement. “Show me, then.”

Immediately did his eyes darken and you shivered once more, suddenly aware again of the fact that something was changing in him. You couldn’t deny that you liked the change that you glimpsed in him sometimes, though. He was confident in those moments and aware of what he did to you with a mere look. It was maddening and sometimes did you wish to tap into that new part of him, to see it in all its glory. You had no way of knowing that you wouldn’t have to wait too long at all… all it would take was one bad day for your sweet Arthur to snap and succumb to all that he had spent his life fighting against. You would stay, though, no matter what - you felt an inexplicable connection to Arthur Fleck and all that he was. You had sworn yourself to him. You couldn’t have known how much this promise would be tested and run through the mill just as much as Arthur had, in the future.

“You might regret saying that.” His voice was soft but raspy now.

You shrugged, still smirking. “Is that a promise?” It was a challenge and you both knew it. If anything, it only fuelled the rising flames within your bodies; the room temperature was now as hot as you were both feeling, and it would only be relieved by each other; acting on your lust and love, desire and passions would douse the tensions that were coiled within yourselves.

Arthur dipped his head down towards you once more, lavishing kisses upon your neck. “Off.” He tugged at the shirt you were wearing with a short, sharp tug and you arched your back on purpose, pressing yourself against him as you shed yourself of his shirt.

You felt a single second of insecurity - you had never been fully confident with your soft curves - and Arthur saw it. He had kept his eyes on yours this entire time, and he saw it all.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.” Arthur shuffled down your body to press kisses all over your stomach. He traced your stretch marks with a single finger and you put your hands over your face to hide the tears. How was this man real? He was the personification of all that was pure and good in this world, and you loved him so much it felt like your heart would burst.

A hand tugged at your wrist and you pulled your hands away from your face. It was a silent, gentle admonishment and you wisely took it for what it was. Arthur was quite sensitive on your behalf and the last time you had ranted to him about the way you felt about your body, he had grown angry on your behalf and had spent the rest of the night showing you how much he loved you; holding you so gently that it had made you cry. Arthur smiled as your eyes were revealed to him, and he saw the tears. He let your wrist go once you lowered your hands. He saw your embarrassment but he also saw your trust, and his smile for once met his eyes as he ducked his head back down to carry on with his actions.

That same finger which had traced your stretch marks reverently was now hooking into the waistband of your panties, which he slid slowly down your legs. You hissed as you were exposed fully to the room - Arthur was fully dressed still and it was unfair - and helped him to shed your underwear from you. They landed somewhere on the floor but neither of you cared where. You had no doubt that you would find them tomorrow in an obscure place, somehow still standing on shaky legs.

You thought you heard Arthur murmur something that sounded like, “I’m so hungry” before he ducked his head down between your legs. His nose was buried against your folds as he lapped at you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. He really went to town on you, and you couldn’t help your hand sliding down your body, your fingers grabbing a handful of his curly hair, your body writhing against him. You made some noises but you weren’t entirely sure, so lost in the feeling of what he was doing to you. Arthur moaned against you. If there was one thing you hadn’t expected from Arthur, it was that he derived just as much pleasure from going down on you, if not more, than you did. He truly enjoyed the feeling of his tongue inside you, of the taste of you. It was enough to drive him crazy in the best way. He would never get enough of you.

You felt that coil of tension in your stomach wind even tighter, and hurriedly did you use your grip on Arthur’s hair to pull him up to face you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. "Please fuck me. Please.” You sat up to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. It only made you feel even more turned on than you already were. This was the most delicious torture you could think of, pulling him up to sitting with you as you desperately tried to undress him, your hands pawing at his clothes. Arthur huffed a laugh as he stood, undressing quicker than you had ever see him do before; your caring hands steadied him when he almost fell when removing his underwear, doing a funny one legged dance which could have caused him to hit his head on the living room table. Nothing would ruin the mood quite like a concussion.

Arthur laughed again, the sound quick and joyful as he swiftly rolled a condom onto his length and came back down onto the sofa, your legs parting without you even thinking about it. You could feel him lying hot and hard against your inner thigh. Both of you were panting, both of you were sweating both from how hot it was but also from your love, and you took a moment to just look at Arthur. His dark curls, his green eyes… that smile which was currently in the corner of his mouth. His eyebrows seemed to soften as he looked at you, and his eyes were roaming all over your face as he, too, took a moment to just look. You were so in love with each other that it hurt sometimes. But not in a bad way; you knew how lucky you were to be able to feel such a love, never mind actually receiving it in return. If you were less of a cynic, you would even call yourselves soulmates.

“I love you.”

Arthur shifted so that he was pressing against you. He sunk into you so easily, so wet were you, and you groaned together; you kept your eyes on Arthur. He kept looking at you, using his flattened palms to trace your body as he moved within you slowly, galaxies in his eyes and all the love in the world on his face.

“I love you so much,” He panted, leaning down to press kisses to your face, your neck, your chest… anywhere and everywhere did he rain attention down on you.

You hooked your legs around his hips, wanting to drive him even deeper into you, and you played with the curls at the nape of his neck, kissing his neck and shoulders. Sometimes would you gently bite, wanting a taste of that darker part of him that you saw sometimes, and you would soothe the area with your tongue. You found a rhythm that worked for you both pretty easily; you were Arthur’s whole experience and he was a fast learner. He knew your body better than you did, and often just as something occurred to you, would he already be doing it. You were perfect together and unstoppable as a result.

The music that resided within both of your souls quickly reached its crescendo, and with a shuddering moan did the coil within you snap. The feeling of your tight walls clenching around Arthur as you came drove him to his climax, too, and it was with heavy breathing and a feeling of dizziness that you rode out your highs. Arthur pulled out of you slowly and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his heart and eyes full of soft love. He stood carefully, and went quickly to the bathroom, grabbing some flannels to clean you up with.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You smiled. You took one of the flannels from him and washed him over. He had already taken care of the condom, so it was easy for you to look after him as he stood naked before you. He wasn’t just physically naked, but also mentally, too, and it was this vulnerability that you were most interested in protecting. A fragile soul was he.

“No. You were perfect. Are you okay?”

Arthur nodded. “More than.” He smiled a real, genuine smile that spread across his face, taking years of hardship off his face. Your breath caught in your throat and you took the flannel from him, kissing the palm of his hand as you walked to the kitchen to dispose of the evidence of your coupling.

When all was cleaned and you were feeling a little less… ravenous, did you redress and make something light to eat; you had no appetite when it was hot outside, but it was important to refuel your bodies. Arthur smoked, you both ate, and together did you talk the remainder of the evening away, safe in the knowledge that to love and to be loved was one of the greatest treasures on this earth. How lucky you were to find each other.

You made a mental note to wear his shirts more often - if that was his reaction, then it was something you would do every day. You hoped that never would he tire of you, of your body, of what you had together. That darkness in him that was quickly rising could only come to the forefront of his mind one day, and you could only hope that he would still long for you in those unknown future days as he had since the day you had first met when it had been pouring down with rain and you were lost with no idea of where to go to find shelter. He had helped you then, and in return you had been the only light in his dark, cold world. He was your entire world and you would spend the rest of your life proving it to him, over and again, never faltering and never allowing him to doubt how very special he was to you.

To say that you and Arthur Fleck were in love was an understatement. It didn’t matter, though. As long as you both knew the other’s soul was tied to yours, the rest of the world ceased to matter.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky @the-pandorabox @mardema @jibanyyan @honeyflvredcoughdrop @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk @epidendroideae @chuuntas @stillmabel @pumpkinpeyes@onehystericalqueenposts @the-jokers-wolf @nalsswa @justahyena @arianatheangelworld @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester @twentyonestarrynights @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman @joker-is-my-hero @lazyloosah @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna

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